She doesn’t play mind games.
She doesn’t hate pets.
These days that’s quite close to as good as it gets.
She isn’t ugly.
She isn’t mean.
She’s the not-baddest person that I’ve ever seen.
She has other friends.
She gets off the couch.
Her spirit animal is not Oscar the Grouch.
She’s not into drama.
She’s not a KGB spy.
My only concern is that “she” is a guy.
The Daily Travesty 