Illustration by Kalah Allen

Dear Portland women: Fuck you. Every one of you. You're all looking for "chemistry," and I've finally figured out what that means. You use that word as an excuse to date someone who doesn't like you very much. You want a man who's mysterious and hard to reach—which is another way of saying you would rather date someone who doesn't actually like you that much. I'll develop more of a strategy next time—I won't spend the night after fucking you, I'll flake out on you the next time we plan on hanging out, and maybe when you do manage to get a hold of me, I'll get incomprehensibly stoned before we actually go out—which, by the way, will be a full three hours after we planned. You know why I'm going to do that shit? Because that's what you want. You want to date an asshole. And the first step toward becoming an asshole is learning to hate every fucking one of you bitches. So, one more time, with feeling: Fuck you. I'm not going to treat you well, and you're going to like it.—Anonymous