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Tall, Dark And Handful: Who Even Is the Perfect Man?   

From thirty feet away he looked like the perfect man, BUT...

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From thirty feet away, he looked like the perfect man,

From ten feet away, he looked like something made up to be seen from thirty feet away.

-Inspired from Raymond Chandler's The Highway Window.

Ladies, you're in luck. The smell of freshly-brewed counsel is wafting through the colourful alleys of Twitter's mood streets and there is NO stone that's being left unturned as far as your dating life is concerned. “He's not your man, ” the tweets are claiming in unison IF he behaves in a certain number of ways that prop up a big, red flag immediately.

From thirty feet away he looked like the perfect man, BUT...
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Not replying to your texts, taking you for granted, not laughing at your flattest punchlines, or not supporting your decisions, among other things, are a CLEAR indicator:

He is not your man, he is just a big blob of furniture, placed decorously around you! Just kidding- what Twitter users are trying to tell you this- Time to cleanse your dating palate, swish a (preferably) Beyonce-print cape in his face and walk out in style. Because, ladies, it is time you chose right.

We’ve had enough of dapper men, dressed in ‘woke’ bodysuits, walking on life’s ‘dangerous, mysterious and cool’ parapets.
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Maybe it is time to go for the 'nice boys' ? Before you go nuclear on me, hear me out!

We don’t get to tell each other what to do and what not to- but we can, with modest tact, employ a ‘trial and error’ method to carve out (or tweet out? ) THE man?

From all the tweets doing the rounds, here's what I have gathered: You talk of the three or four things that DON'T make him “your man” and when you are clear about the negations, you have a grasp on everything he is NOT and, then, transfer the epithets to a more befitting person/character/thing.

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For example:

If he:

-Just lounges in bed all day.

-Grumbles a lot.

-Keeps nagging, despite you calling him out....

He is not your man. He is an alarm clock.

Which you already own. And there are some really good alarm clocks in the market right now. So, why does he deserve an added emotional investment from your end?

(P.S: There are no good men left, only good alarm-clock deals, I am starting to believe.)
Again, i am just kidding!

OR

If he:

-Is just stressing you out.

-Doesn't back off ever.

-Brings out your worst side...

He is not your man. He is the flu.

From thirty feet away he looked like the perfect man, BUT...
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If you are not careful, you might be stuck with him for life! You get the drift right?

We're putting our foot down and burping out cackles in the face of aphorisms that ask us to “love a man endlessly to make him perfect” and so on and so forth.

We’d rather invest such love and care in our own sense of self-fulfillment and emerge victorious, proud and tweet-worthy!
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Here are a couple of examples from Twitter to groove you in:

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I mean, it is only fair, right? Think of how some of our ‘woke’ men have described their “perfect women”. They haven't really been very considerate.

Mr Miller wanted Siri, not a woman. (From the looks of it, he demanded everything of her, even the “impossible”.)

You are the only woman who has a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance — no more, you seem to urge me to betray you... I am going to demand everything of you — even the impossible, because you encourage it. You are really strong. I even like your deceit, your treachery. It seems aristocratic to me.
-Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin Henry Miller, 1932-1953
From thirty feet away he looked like the perfect man, BUT...
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Mr McCarthy wanted a vacuum-cleaner, not a woman. He simply wanted to get the job done.

A goodlookin horse is like a goodlookin woman, he said. They’re always more trouble than what they’re worth. What a man needs is just one that will get the job done.
-Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
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When Jack Kerouac wanted a sexy cactus, and not a woman...

Her breasts stuck out straight and true; her little flanks looked delicious. 
-Kerouac, On the Road: The Original Scroll

Now tell me ladies,  do we want to be described along the lines of “she breasted boobiliy to the stairs, and titted downwards” or do we allow ourselves to upgrade our desires and attach some good old non-sexist expectations to them?

(At The Quint, we are answerable only to our audience. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member. Because the truth is worth it.)

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