Why Michael Phelps Would Be The Worst Boyfriend Ever [PHOTOS]
There are five main reasons that confirm with 100% certainty why I think Michael Phelps would make the absolute worst possible boyfriend choice for me. However, there’s one simple rebuttal that would make me endure a toxic relationship together.
Here’s why he’d be the worst boyfriend ever-
Reason #5: He is impossible to buy Christmas and birthday gifts for.
Seriously, like he needs any more jewelry?! And forget about buying him clothes! Do they even sell size 14 shoes at Nordstrom?
Reason #4: He could be flakey.
Michael Phelps used to endorse flakes. If there’s one pet peeve I have about dating, it’s flakey guys. Flakiness is an awful foundation for a relationship. I expect full commitment from a boyfriend; I would tolerate none of this wishy-washy, back and forth behavior Phelps.
Reason #3: I am allergic to fish.
Even looking at fish, smelling fish, and talking about fish makes me break out in hives. So, simple physical contact like holding hands with my boyfriend Phelps could send me into anaphylactic shock and have me hospitalized with a life-threatening allergic reaction.
Reason #2: He would make me morbidly obese.
Okay, so maybe the 12,000 calorie-a-day diet is a myth, but we still know that this dude eats more than one human should and somehow maintains a six-pack. Wtf. We would have to go on two dinner dates a night to satisfy his dietary needs, and as a result I’d get diabetes before our one-month anniversary.
Reason #1: He always finishes first.
Rude. Why the hurry? I have needs too. I appreciate it when my boyfriends slow it down and take their time once in a while.
And here’s why I don’t care-
Finally, the top reason I would still date Michael Phelps tomorrow even if he flaked on every date, sent me to the hospital with an allergic reaction, and gave me diabetes is…
Go ahead- you all can try to argue my logic, judge my rational, and question my sanity. BUT, you will never be able to deny my proof, because it is as solid as Michael Phelps’s abs.
So Phelpsy, take a minute between winning gold medals and eating footlongs to let me know if you’re ready for a woman to treat you like the perfectly sculpted trophy that you are: https://twitter.com/ChristinaJonesy. Just think about all the humble sacrifices I would make for you. Boy, if that’s not real love, I don’t know what is. Best of luck in London.