It’s often said that “nice guys finish last” and that women prefer “bad boys” to nice ones. I'm sad to say that it's true, most of the time. Even women I love and respect like Brooke and Tits seem to prefer the rogues.

Not me. I buck the trend. In fact, bad boys and I understand each other – which is why we utterly and completely despise one another.

But the bad boys get enough press. I want to talk about the nice guys, the shy guys, and the overlooked guys. Not the anti-social, lost in his own world, animal-torturing weirdoes who belongs in an asylum of some sort, but the sweet, affable, enthusiastic guys who either don’t have the sinister cunning to be a user, or, better yet, choose against it.

These kinds of guys usually have a passion of some sort that makes them irresistible to me. I don’t care if its sports, movies, music, art, politics … if it gets them all excited to talk about it, it gets me excited to hear about it. And ladies, whether you want to believe it or not, if the guy is passionate about one thing, he’s passionate about others – like women, of course.

In bed, they aren’t just focused on the quick and selfish result. They like to experiment, learn, explore. Out of bed, they want to know all about you. Not just what suits their selfish purposes, but every last component of makes you, you. I can’t fathom why anyone would want a swaggering know-it-all who likes to hear his own voice and demands to be adored at all times.

To me, it’s the bad boy who’s weak, insecure, lacking in imagination and, frankly, boring. The nice guy dares to have principles in a world that often doesn’t reward principled behavior. He is secure enough to focus on loving instead of being loved. He is full of fun and life and focus. I love those guys. You can keep the philanderers, egotists and immature thrill-seekers. They’re not worth shaving your legs for.