How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count the Ways...Wait, I Don't Really Like You in the First Place

I've always thought that being single sucks. However, after much thinking on the subject, I may have found out why I have carried such a status for quite some time now. I think I may be too picky. There are some things that I just cannot accept in my man. Some things I just cannot get over. Just in case you have ever thought of dating me, thought of setting me up with a friend, or just are bored and want something to read, here are my requirements for a mate:

• We all want someone tall, dark, and handsome. I've decided that I'll settle with someone who is taller than me, has skin that isn't transparent, and is at least kinda cute.
• If he throws a softball/baseball/football like a girl, he's gone.
• If I start to talk about KG or Torii Hunter and he looks at me like I'm speaking a foreign language, there will be serious problems.
• He ABSOLUTELY must not have any of the following bumper stickers on his car: Vote for Bush, anything involving Nascar, the Packers, or the Yankees, "Gas, Grass, or Ass...no one rides for free", "Keep Honking, I'm Reloading", and/or Calvin peeing on something
• His screen name may not include any of the following words, numbers, or symbols: pimp, playa, 69, 420, and letters that alternate between capital and lowercase
• He must know the difference between their, there, and they're, and your and you're. I cannot stress this one enough.
• He cannot ever weigh less than I do.
• I'd appreciate it if he weren't cross-eyed and still had all of his teeth.
• If he drives any of the following cars, we might have issues: Volkswagon Jetta, Golf, or Bug, any pickup truck, El Camino, any minivan, a garbage truck, a golf cart, Pontiac Aztec, PT Cruiser, or a Chevy Astrovan
• He should at least have attempted to go to college, unless he was offered a pro contract right out of high school in which I can make an exception.
• If he says words like "bone" or "come" and laughs every time he says it, I'm going to have to cut him off.
• He absolutely cannot slobber when he kisses me and must have some sense of personal hygiene. I can excuse forgetting to shave every once in a while, but if this becomes a problem, he will be out the door.
• He must know how to correctly run a washing machine and a dishwasher.
• And most importantly, his vocabulary must consist of more than just the following words: f*ck, dude, like, so, whoa, ass, gimme, nekkid, and pussy. I hate that last word.

After sharing all of this, I'd like to think that there may be at least one guy out there that still can maneuver around all of my qualifications. If you know of one, let me know. He may just be the one to change my future uncool sounding name: Dr. Storrs.