Why is everyone getting married?
Are we old enough for that now? I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I’m the last one on the married bus. Actually I’m not even on the bus, it’s more like I’m that weird kid who missed the bus and is frantically running after it but it’s not stopping.
I hate it. Everyone… stop getting married. We’re all still children.
And the bus is gross.
On the list of things in my life that can fuck off…
Men are at the top.
No good. Cheating. Lying. Fucking men.
All of ‘em.
Ya’ll suck.
Your moms suck too.
What if I took off MY clothes in my pictures?
What kind of messages would I get if I was ACTUALLY trying to be a giant whore? I already get messages like, “Hey, wanna hook up?” or “Damn fine.” or my personal favorite, “What size boobs are those?” My pictures don’t scream sex pot. I don’t really think I have come-fuck-me eyes, and the pictures don’t show the come-fuck-me heels I typically adorn so that can’t be it. My profile is upbeat and happy… I talk about ponies and shit and I talk about how much I love sunshine.
So what if I did have some picture of my boobs hanging out, licking my lips, putting out my best come-hither stare? What the hell kind of messages would I get then? I’m almost curious enough to try it and see what happens.
Almost. I’m not that self-destructive.
And then there’s these guys with their shirts off in all their pictures, standing in the mirror like a fucking idiot holding an iPhone and attempting to flex so much they look constipated. Does that work for them? Do girls message THEM saying “Hey wanna hook up?” or “Wow, nice guns, BABY.” If they do, we have a much bigger problem on our hands than douchey guys on the internet. The bigger problem would be all the douchey girls on the internet.
I should just move back home and date that nice boy from high school.
THINGS YOU DON’T DO PART 2.
Invite me over, have no plan, pound a bunch of rum, drive me to a bar, drink more beers, fail to ask me a single question about me (like… “What do you do? Do you like Denver? What’s your favorite FUCKING COLOR?”), talk about how many millions your father has, be 23 and drive a Jaguar, duck out on the tab, get a bloody nose (fine, shit could happen to anyone) but not notice because you’re too drunk, blow up my phone after I leave asking “What you did wrong,” and not take “I just didn’t think we had any chemistry, nothing you did!” as a satisfactory answer and continuing to blow up my phone with phone calls/text messages.
Is this real life?
Things you DON’T do.
You don’t invite a girl over when she’s first moved to a new city, tell her how awesome she is, get her to stay over, mess around, be disappointed when she won’t fuck you, shoo her out of your house in the morning, never text her again, and then 9 months later find her on POF and shoot her a friendly “Long time no talk.”
FUCK YOU.
POF = POS
I had to disable my POF account. It was getting too depressing.
Does anyone actually have luck with that site? Seriously. Not just as a booty call. Appalling.
Here on business?
“Hey I’m here on business for another week so if you want to get a drink shoot me a text at XXX-XXX-XXXX.”
Read:
“Hey, wanna fuck and then forget about each other?”
FML.
ME: “It’s like all I have to say is, “I’m a marketing coordinator.” And boys just run away.
E: “You should probably start telling them you’re unemployed and need a man to make you happy.
Q&A
imchrisstuart: is this your main blog?▼Nah I have another one but I rarely update it. Actually I rarely update this one if we’re going by evidence, but I’m getting better about it.