Tag Archives: assholes

Enough is enough

I finally did it.  At approximately 1:45am on Saturday night I blocked Snoop-Linus from facebook.  I know, I know… it’s facebook who gives a fuck, right?  Well this is big and it’s also the only thing that will get through to him that he needs to just leave me alone forever.  What finally pushed me to do the unthinkable?  We’ll have to step back a few months to fully grasp the situation.

All summer I have been getting random phone calls and texts from Snoop-Linus, most of them say he misses me and he loves me yada yada, there’s been a few curve balls in there where he fights with himself over the voicemail and a few I haven’t been able to understand.  98% of the calls are when he’s drunk, half of the texts are from the following days apologizing for the calls, some of the other texts are him asking for his 2 t-shirts that I still have of his back.  Some of them are him asking how I’m doing and all that jazz.

Occasionally when I’m in a deep enough sleep and I don’t look at who is calling I answer the 4am drunk dials.   Which happened when Lucky got stuck in Texas for her flight.  I heard the phone ringing, thought it was her, so I picked up.  Little did I know it was Snoop-Linus calling to tell me he loves me or something.

Anyway, to catch everyone up to speed, last week I finally asked him to stop contacting me.  And gave the whole, “You cheated on me, this will NEVER happen, we will NEVER be together again, because of YOU.  I said I would mail you your shirts, there is nothing else that needs to be said. The end.”

After I sent that text I surprisingly didn’t get a response, and haven’t heard from him since.  Problem solved right? I still haven’t mailed his shirts, and now he’s never getting them back.  They are my payoff for ending it over a year ago and still have to deal with him doing everything he can to get a reaction out of me.

So Saturday rolls around, I had plans to meet up with my friend Jess and go to the beach (stories to come Wednesday) we’re on our way there when she’s telling me that she texted Snoop-Linus because he had told her that him and her ex-boyfriend were going to the beach that day as well.  So she texted him to find out where they would be so we were sure not to be there.  He said he hadn’t talked to her ex since Thursday but said he was still going to the beach.  She asked who with and he replied with some shady answer that didn’t really answer the question and she didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day.

We never saw him, so…good.  Saturday night approaches and Jess says we should go to her friends apartment party.  So we do.  Everyone there was young, extremely drunk, and lame.  Maybe I was the lame one, but I wasn’t drunk, so whatever.  More stories on that Wednesday too, but just know, I was sober and annoyed.  So we go out to the bars.

When we get to the bar I order water because I’m so fucking annoyed/pissed that I’m out with these night ruiners (or so I think).  So I’m sitting there, slurping down my water, looking on facebook when I see it.  A picture of Snoop-Linus and whore #2 posted less than an hour earlier, standing in front of the baseball stadium with the caption, “Happy Birthday!!!”  I was sitting in the bar across the street from the baseball stadium when I saw this picture.  Like literally, looked up from where I was sitting and saw the exact background of the picture that was just taken moments earlier.

I had to sit there and think for a while.  I knew this was coming eventually, I called it.  I told everyone this would happen, not with some girl, but with THIS girl.  Because he’s too big of an asshole and too bad of a person to not hurt me as much as he can.  He has to feel like he’s won.  He has to know he beat me down as much as any one person can beat another person down emotionally.  He has to feel like he’s ruined love for me forever.  And he has to know he made me cry again after I told him I would never cry over him again, so he posted the picture.  Since the invention of facebook and “mobile uploads” Snoop-Linus has uploaded 10 pictures.  1 of them is of his old dog, and 9 of them are from sporting events or skylines.  Not one of them is of a person or people, not once throughout the course of our 2 year relationship did he take a picture of us, let alone take a picture of us and upload it to facebook that very minute.  He knows that this girl is the one person I hate on Earth more than him, he knows that if he puts a picture on facebook of them I’ll see it and I’ll know he brought her to the city, MY CITY, where I live, NOT him, NOT her, ME, for her birthday and that they’re exclusive enough that he took her out to do something special for her birthday.  Not only did he bring her to the city in which I live and work, he brought her to my neighborhood.  The neighborhood that I live in, and the neighborhood and bars that he knows I go out to.  He did this to get to me.

I was pretty overwhelmed with emotions at first.   I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, scream, drink, throw my phone through the window, hook up with the  first guy I saw, do nothing, or go hunt him down and saw off his penis with a butter knife.

I decided all of the above weren’t good options, except the last one, but lets be real.  I asked Jess to come to the bathroom with me, told her what I saw and said I didn’t feel like staying out and I was going home.  #1 Because I did need to cry, and now that I’m on the down slope to 30 I can’t be seen crying in a bar #2 I didn’t want to see them out, chances are if I would’ve stayed out, I would have.  

Jess said she would come back with me so we hailed a cab and the whole time she’s sitting there asking if I know that I’m better than him? Of course I know I’m better than him.  I’m not a cheater, liar, and I don’t use drugs.  I’d say I’m worlds better, but the fact of the matter is… he posted the picture to hurt me.  And it did.  So I blocked his lying, cheating, scumbag ass and didn’t say a fucking word. Post another picture, asshole.  I won’t see it.

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He’s a little…out of your league.

Well I just finished day 2 of boot camp, literally 10 minutes ago.  I could puke.  Day 1 wasn’t so bad, everyone takes their “Before”pictures and gets measurements taken and all that jazz.  So after day 1 I treated myself to a bacon egg and cheese biscuit  from McDonalds, it will be the last time we touch lips for some time.  Anyway, Anth didn’t go to the first day because he was out of town and by the looks of the instructors and the rest of the people in the class I knew it wouldn’t be his cup of tea.  He’s really in shape and thinks the amount he can bench press should impress girls and told me first hand he wants nothing to do with “downward facing dog.”

When day 2 rolled around this morning we pulled up about 4 minutes till 5 and the instructor (we’ll call her Nazi-Whore) walks outside and starts clapping her hands at us, “Come on! You’re late, last one in the building runs an extra mile.” Excusie? We are not late.  YOU were 10 minutes late the first day so shut your Nazi-Whore hole.  Neither Anth nor myself enjoys people who think they can boss us around so we both may have trouble with the Nazi-Whore because she was like that the entire fricking time.  The first exercise? Downward facing dog.  Bahaha!  Which by the way was perfect for someone like me who hates to work out and rarely does so.  I think in the end it will give me the results I’m looking for (a toned non-muscular beach bod.)  Anth thought it was “gay” but agreed to keep going because “it will get him in even better shape,” tool.  He totes loved it.  The only thing he complained about was stretching his ass infront of all the people that were walking in for the 6am class.  Mwhahaha.

Anyway, summer is vastly approaching and that means… summer looooove!!  Since I am officially revirginized I have to pick someone to give up my 3rd virginity to.  Yes, this over 1 year since any woopie has happened once before, in college.  My sorority sisters had a ceremony for my “pure soul” and I had to give a speech (it was good, it included bible versus by candlelight and will be posted in due time), then we all went out and got pants shitting drunk to try and get me some sex.  Which didn’t happen for another 4 or 5 months, so I still have a few months before I break my record.

But, yesterday I thought I had potentially locked down a doctor at lunch.  I sat at the “singles” bar where all of the people who don’t have any friends to eat with sit and stare at the wall.  I sat down next to a woman doctor and a few minutes later a hot young surgeon sat down next to me.  Well, hello hellooooo.  I was reading Lucky’s post for yesterday while I ate my burger when the Doctor says, “Whatcha reading there? A blog? What’s it about? It’s so hard to find interesting blogs.”  I quickly closed out the browser and said, “Yeah… the site I’m reading is pretty meh, I think I’ll look for something more compelling.” Totes not trying to knock our blog but I cannot have people at my workplace reading this.  #1 I would abso get fired for talking so much shit #2 What if this doctor would’ve asked me out right after I told him I have this blog where me and my best friend rant about all of our sexual escapades and relationship failures? The stuff on the blog is like 1 year anniversary material.  So anyway, I don’t know if he saw the name or the web address, we could potentially have a new reader… Ellooo doctor! Or maybe he was just trying to make small talk so he could ask me out and then changed his mind because I’m such a spaz.   Who knows.

After it seemed as though my ultimate plan of finding a doctor to love me was taking a turn for the better I came home and started telling Anth about it, he could’ve cared less.  Then Lucky starts telling me about how she is going to see the Hangover 2 this weekend and I’m all, “Anth! The Hangover 2 comes out this weekend, we gotta go see it next week!” And he’s all, “No, we have to go see Thor, my friend who is in it is coming to visit in a few weeks and how big of assholes will we be if none of us have seen it?” Hold the bus, “Your friend was in THOR, THE MAJOR MOTION PICTURE!!!??? How many lines does he have?” “Ummm he was like one of the main characters?” This sparked an idear in my head, “Do you think he’ll want to be my boyfriend?” Anth cracked up and was all, “Maaaaaybbeeee… but he’s a little…out of your league.  I mean, he’s a movie star.”  Well asshole, obviously I was kidding but now I am going to make it my life goal to lose my 3rd virginity to Anth’s friend in Thor.  I started boot camp for Pete’s sake, in 2 weeks I am going to look DAMN GOOD! I mean for real, I have to set some goals for myself or I won’t keep going to boot camp.  So, thanks Anth… you just motivated me to lose 5 pounds.  Dick.

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Homeless Harriet

I hate everyone.  Like seriously.  I thought my life was starting to semi-get in order. I’ve been reading literary masterpieces so that I have intellectual things to talk about with Dr. Love, my car situation is finally under control, Lucky booked a flight to come here over her birthday/the fourth of July, I’m about to move into a room with not only 4 walls and a door, but a walk in closet with places to hang my clothes, AND a bathroom; life was good.  Then I get thrown under the bus like I’m invisible, yet again.  Right before the end of my work day yesterday I get this email from Anth:

To: Gizzy, Doogie

Subject: roommate

How do you guys feel about Tim moving in? He’s either moving in, getting a single, or getting a double with me he says.  I don’t see myself moving out so the last one probably can get tossed from the list.  He would pay the $900 for the bigger room and parking for sure.  Plus, he doesn’t do blow anymore.  So, score.  He’s probably going to come over Monday or Tuesday, whenever the next game is on to talk about it.

I was instantly fuming, texted Lucky that I would be calling her in 5 to vent, and got the hell out of work.  If you all remember when I moved up here I explained that I live in the den in the basement aka the dungeon, where it is cold, dark, and loud.  My bed is literally 2 feet from the furnace, air conditioning, the front door, and the garage door.  Not to mention anytime anyone makes any kind of noise in the living room or kitchen the noise in amplified in my room times 100.  So, when JM informed us he would be moving out memorial day weekend I was more than ecstatic to take over his room. Even if it did mean almost tripling what I pay now in rent.

Anth never really took my vow to move upstairs seriously, and asked me every other day if I was going to take over JM’s room when he moved out.  The answer was always a yes, without hesitation.  So it was quite a surprise to get this email 2 weeks before JM moves out, especially when we just talked the other day about how JM would forfeit his security deposit over to me so that he didn’t have to notify the landlord that he was moving out and have him come in and do an inspection and all that goodness.  Everything was all set, until this.  

Lucky and I kind of came to the conclusion that maybe he was trying to lock in a more permanent roommate since I had clearly stated from the beginning to them that if Lucky moves here, I am outro and living with her.  But, since that wouldn’t be for at least another 4 or 5 months I didn’t think looking for a replacement roommate was that big of an issue yet.  We had also decided that I shouldn’t reply to the email and I should confront him face to face when I got home, clearly this talk with Tim has been going on for a while and this was just the first I was hearing about it, Anth was obviously trying to be passive aggressive so he didn’t have to tell me I am getting the boot to my face.  While we’re on the phone Doogie replies to the email:

Yes. That’s awesome.  I see myself rocking out waaaaaaaay more hahahahaha

Really? I thought if anyone was going to have my back it would be Doogie since he is the most level headed one out of the bunch.  Clearly not.  So I get home from work, all fired up, stomp up the stairs in my stilettos and pencil skirt ready to go hammer on Anth, and of course this is THE ONE DAY he isn’t home when I get home.  And he doesn’t show up until 8pm at night, clearly to ensure everyone else is already home knowing I don’t want to be a drama queen and go off on him in front of everyone, I’m sure.

Anyway, when I saw he wasn’t home I decided I had no choice but to reply to the email because I couldn’t hold in my anger any longer:

So I don’t deserve 4 walls and a door anymore, asshole? I don’t even know who the fuck Tim is.

No reply.  Pretty typical, now he was scared.  Hence the not coming home until 8pm.  He walked in, we had a living room full of people and I immediately gave him the death glare.  He was able to put the subject off for a good 10-15 minutes until Doogie brought it up.  Anth looked at me and says, “Yeah, you don’t have to get so defensive, obviously the room is yours if you want it, I was just explaining all our options.”  Everyone stared at me for a response so I just repeated what the email said when Doogie’s girlfriend Patty chimed in, “Clearly Gizzy has paid her dues and deserves the room, YOU DICK!”  Thank you, Patty! Anth defends himself, “Well I just wanted to give you the choice since it’s a lot more expensive.” I just turned my head away to watch tv.  Bastard.

After I retreated to the dungeon for the night to go to bed I hear Doogie ask Anth, “So what’s the deal with Tim moving in?” to which Anth replied, “Well obviously if Gizzy wants the room it’s hers.  Tim could live downstairs but I really don’t think he’d be up for that.  So if he moved into JM’s room it would be cheaper for everyone.”

Well heres some news assholes, if Tim moves into JM’s room – Gizzy moves out! Ooohhh, now it’s more expensive for everyone and there will be no one around to buy things like dishsoap, papertowels, toilet paper, and trashbags, or to clean up after you filthy animals.  How ’bout them apples?  Assholes.

PLUS! And I quote, “He doesn’t do blow anymore.  So, score.”  Ummmmm… have fun tracking down your new 60 inch flat screen when that crack head sells it for drug money.  Idiots.  They’ll be sorry.

Reason # 17,834 why I HATE men.

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The bed wetter

Hopefully I can ward off my hangover long enough to pull this post together.  Yesterday my Dad and Step-Mom threw a wedding reception for themselves.  Knowing the kind of friends my dad has, the people they work with, and my family I knew this party was going to be no funzo for me.  So I helped out as much as I could stayed for 5 hours and then told my dad I started my period and needed to leave.  Like any man would do in that situation he got freaked out and shooed me out the door.  So away I went to my olllll alma mater.

I called up Gigi and Mercedes so we threw back some shots and away we went.  I had secret hopes of seeing HOTTIE out but of course never saw him or any of his peoples.  And like clockwork I got drunk and sent him a text at 2:30 in the morning asking if he was around.  No response.  Typs.  I think I’ll let him go.

Anyway, we’re leaving our first bar when I run into someone I met my sophomore year of college.  We’ll call him MP.  Now MP and I met sophomore year at my apartment.  I was out fratting it up and decided to have a little after partaaay with my friend Betty.  So Betty and I call up our friend Ryan, Ryan says he’ll bring his friend MP over so it’s even.  So we took a lot of shots, and by a lot I mean like finished a half gallon of vodka.  Betty and Ryan sat down in the living room to watch Napoleon Dynamite (that’s how long ago this roots back) so I go back to my room to go to bed and MP follows me.  Drunk as skunks we start to make out and crawl into bed.  Nothing else happened though because I think we both passed out.  So I wake up like 20 minutes later, come to my senses and get the eff out of there.  I grabbed a blanket and my pillow and went to the living room to finish watching Napoleon with Betty and Ryan and pass out on the living room floor.

I wake up in the morning to Ryan and MP shuffling around to gather their things.  I didn’t want it to be awkward so I just pretended I was still asleep until they left.  Well first I open up the fridge and see that they stole ALL of my capri-suns.  W.T.F.  So gay.  Then I head back to my room.  I scream and Betty and my roommates all come running.  “THAT MOTHER FUCKER WET MY BED!!!!!!!!” Huuuuge wet spot right in the center of my bed.  I call up Ryan and tell him and he busts out laughing, tells MP what I said and MP lies about it obvi and says it was me.  Then I get super pissed, “Um NO! I slept in the living room ass wipe!” This argument of who wet the bed went on for a good hour with more evidence of it being him than me.  So we hang up and what do I do? I create a facebook group and invite all his friends, “MP wet my bed and lied about it.”

Well time passed and eventually the attention to the story fizzled out.  About 2 years ago MP and I ran into each other in a bar, hashed it out, he admitted to wetting my bed so I said we could be friends.  I figured anyone who wanted to be friends with me after I made a facebook group about them announcing to a campus of 40,000 people that they are a bed wetter deserves a second chance.

So last night I run into MP, we’re all “Oooohhhhh how have you been, what are you up to, yada yada yada.”  I’m drunk enough to pull the ole, “Lemmeeee see if I still have yourrr numba!” (Exactly like that because I was hammered.) I didn’t so we exchanged numbers and as soon as I left he was texting me, take note of the time sequence:

1:23 am MP: What bar did you want to meet at?

G: Bar 4

1:25 am MP: Sounds good, lets meet there in a bit.

G: We’ll probably be there around 2

1:27 am MP: k wanna meet up later?

G: Ya sounds good, text me when you head to Bar 4.

1:29 am MP: Stop.  You wanna talk now?

G: Lol  talk about what? We’re at snakes drinking vodka tonics.

1:32 am MP: I guess I just wanna make out.  Is that bad?

*At this point I was cackling my little black stilettos off telling every one in the bar the bed wetting story, so I rolled with it to see what was going to happen.*

G: Haha not bad.

1:34 am MP: Come back to Henry’s real quick.

G: Ok we’ll come back in a minute when we finish our drinks. (not!)

1:36 am MP: K I’m here.

1:41 am MP: Where you wanna meet?

G: We’re finishing our drinks then coming to Henry’s.

1:45 am MP:  Sounds good

1:57 am MP: Where you at?

2:06 am MP: Yo wake up

G: Sorry finishing up now about to come there. (Not!)

2:07 am MP: K hurry!!!

2:10 am MP: Where you at?

2:15 am MP: Nlothin (Nothin)

2:15 am MP: Huh

2:21 am MP: Come on hun

*Text HOTTIE for a last chance at love, “Heyy are you around?”*

G: Sorry sorry just looked at my phone, we’re at Bar 4.

2:26 am MP: You wanna meet up?

2:26 am MP: Come to Henry’s silly

G: My friends want to stay here.

2:28 am MP: Come on just me and you

2:49 am G: I’m staying at my friends she wants to be here

2:51 am MP: Ok just wanted to say hi that’s all, no worries. (Uh huh)

G: Why didn’t you just come to Bar 4 then?

2:53 am MP: Haha your girl is here you need better excuses

G: I don’t think sooo they’re both with me

2:58 am MP: Where you at I will come to Bar 4.

G: Yeah come here (At this point I was already sitting in Mercedes car at the Mcdonalds drive-thru)

3:01 am MP: The bars are closed

3:02 am MP: Should I wait for you outside?

G: Ya

3:04 am MP: K to the right

3:23 am MP: Should I leave?

3:44 am MP: You in bed for the night?

*Next day*

11:51 am MP: You wanna get breakfast?

12:01 pm MP: come on, I wanna see you!

Is that someone desperate to get laid or is that someone desperate to get laid? Get home get on facebook, girlfriend.  RE-SHUNNED! Asshole.



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Bi-polar ex

I went out to get pants shitting drunk. Again.  And all hell broke loose.  Again. My phone has never blown up so much in my life.  People don’t call me to wish me a happy birthday, but if they get word that I’m getting drunk it’s, OH the entertainment has arrived.

Monday night I get a text from Merdie telling me to come over and drink tequila with him and his roomies, I say that I can tomorrow night, so it’s a plan we’re blacking out on Tuesday.

Tuesday comes and I get a text from Texas asking if I want to go out. Well of course, come one come all.  If I’m gonna pimp myself out I better do it right.  Then, my friend Chuck (who is a girl) tells me she is coming up and acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam and her other friend Barbie are going to join in on the festivities.  ALRIGHT! Now we have a fucking party.

So Chuck, Barbie, Adam and I are at my place taking shooters like it’s our job, waiting for Merdie to get off work and give us the green light to come over, which never happened (bast!),  when Texas texts me and says to come over and take shots with them.  So we do.  It’s all kind of a blur but since my mouth tasted like someone pooped in it this morning, I can imagine we were combining all sorts of alcoholic treats.

About 11:15 we all stumble out of Texas’ place and into our favorite drinking establishment, Snakes, when Chuck pulls me into a booth and says “GIZ!!! LOOK WHO IT IS!!”

I look up and see none other than bi-polar ex.  Oh this night just got interesting.  Some background info on bi-polar ex:

He has the name, bi-polar ex, because he is for reals bi-polar.  At least that’s what the word on the street is.  He never told me anything about it, but I have heard from more than one source if he doesn’t take his meds it is bad news bears and things will get broken. Icaramba.

Chuck and Gigi had a 4 bedroom apartment a few years ago with only the two of them living in it.  They put an ad on Craigs list looking for 2 female roomies, so Mercedes and I moved in, and when we moved in bi-polar ex was subleasing Chuck’s room for the summer. So there, that’s the story of how I met Chuck, Gigi, and bi-polar ex and a slew of other characters who I’m sure will come out of the woodwork in due time.  If I had known the injuries, broken hearts, and shattered dreams that would occur because I lived in that apartment, I still would’ve fucking done it.  Best year of my life.

I have no bad blood with bi-polar ex, he’s actually one of the more decent guys that I dated.  We were never officially together so when I got word of him making out with some fat troll at a party there wasn’t much I could say; other than to say nothing at all, and quit talking to him, which is exactly what I did. And for the past year and a half he has badgered every single one of my friends, probing them for info on what’s up with me, all while he has had a serious girlfriend, Katie.

So here we are shooting the shit with bi-polar ex and his bff, texas and his bff, and my gay but says he’s straight friend, waiting to meet up with snoops friends, if HOTTIE would have walked in the door I think I may have had a heart attack.  There was way too much sexual tension in the room for one girl to handle.

So Texas tells me he’s too fucked up and has to go home, thank the jesus lord because bi-polar ex is getting drunker by the minute and is starting to drop bombs like, “I really fucked up with you,” and “You’re the only girl that’s ever given me a thrill.” To which I respond, “I don’t think your girlfriend would like you saying those things.”  Then he reveals that things aren’t going so hot with his girlfriend and he doesn’t think it’ll last much longer.  Ya ya ya…. that’s what the guy ALWAYS tells the stripper he’s about to fuck at his bachelor party.  Come on.

Fast forward to the end of the night, I look around and no one is left from our group except yours truly and bi-polar ex.  I’m close to blackout status once again because he keeps buying us mind erasers, and I know it’s only going to worse from here on out. And it does.

“You know, I  knew you were the girl I was supposed to marry the first time I hung out with you.”

Actually I do know you feel that way because you told all my friends and they told me, mind you the first time we hung out was nearly 2 years ago when I was 23 and a raging drunk (not much has changed), and I was throwing a broken tv off of my balcony, just to hear it shatter. But I remind him of the awful things I used to do to him when he would fall asleep, I’m worse than a frat brother, not to mention at one point in the evening I walked out of the bathroom and my dress was totally tucked into the back of my underwear.  No one told me, I figured it out when I started wondering why I could feel the leather from the stool on my bare ass when I knew my dress nearly drug the ground.

Yes, those are temporary tattoos.  I am too fucking lazy to cut them apart.  A funny story about these temporary tattoos.   You can see there are google eyes in there.  Well, Mercedes was dating this scrubby guy at the same time who would always ask her to have sex doggy style.  Which she is strictly a starfish kind of girl, so I talked her into letting me put google eyed temporary tattoos on her ass so when he pressured her to do it doggy style she could say OK then just before he stuck it in he would see some creepy eyeballs looking back at him.  It was a smash hit, for us anyway.  The scrub hated it but I laughed my ass off when I heard him scream “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?” and bolted out of our apartment.

Not only would I, his psuedo girlfriend, do things like this to him every single time he passed out on me.  I would also let my friends partake and spread the wealth.

After the marriage line and reminding him how many times he threatened to pee all over my apartment after the pranks I pulled on him, I look over and he is down on the ground on one knee saying he’s serious and asking if I will marry him. I can’t make this shit up people, my jaw dropped and I said, “Fuck!!! Get off the fucking floor you fool, you’re gonna get gangrene on your knee!” He gets up and tells me he is dead serious and if I would even CONSIDER giving him a second chance he would dump Katie and never speak her name again; and if I don’t then I’ll always be the girl that got away.

He rambled on for a good hour about how sorry he is for making out with the fat troll at that party, how he was so immature and partied too much back then and didn’t realize what he had until it was gone.  He took the time to list everything he loves about me, bashed on himself and snoop-linus for fucking up the best thing that ever happened to them.  But, that’s what they all say, right? Katie is kind of trollish herself, but from reading what she posts on his wall she seems like she has a mediocre personality. My guess is that it’s not going well because he cheated on her, he wouldn’t give me any deets, but I know these assholes like the back of my hand. OR maybe it’s not going well because every time he sees one of his ex’s he pulls this shit, I mean he was hugging me and kissing my forehead the entire night.  I told him it was inappropriate and he’d be in deep doo-doo if any of his gf’s friends saw, but he didn’t care.  He even tried to hold my hand.  How romantic.  Gag.

Chuck started texting me saying she was done shoveling pizza into her face and she would ride this bike she found with 2 flat tires around my parking lot while she waited on me to get home.  My friends are the most special people.  She wrecked it of course, so I had to book it home to doctor up, Chuck “Bloody Knees” Smith.

Bi-polar ex offered to walk me home, so off we went.  We got about halfway back to my apartment when he stops me in the middle of the street and says he can’t go any further because he’ll want to come in.  I mean, last I heard don’t I have to invite him in? That never happened, so I don’t know why he was getting so debbie fucking downer about it because I wasn’t about to let anything happen, but I just rolled with it and said ok.  Then came the water works.  I don’t know if he was actually that upset that he lost me or if he is just that desperate to get laid, but I mean I’m 25.  I’ve seen it all.

I couldn’t even get in the door before he was calling asking to come over, I told him no and that he should see where things go with his girlfriend, if it didn’t work out then he could call me but I didn’t want to be a factor in them breaking up.  I’m not a home wrecker.  Plus his parents are polish and his mom scares the bejeezies out of me.  If she likes this girl and he dumps her for me I will be scared she’ll pound me with her iron fist or try to scratch me up with her mustache.  He went around and around for another 20 minutes feeding me the same bullshit he had been all night and sending me texts that say, “I miss you.”

The liquor was starting to set in on me, I don’t remember replying but it was in my sent box so I guess I said, “I’m not saying I don’t miss you or that I do, but boundaries.” This text makes sense, kind of.  When I dated bi-polar ex I notoriously would send him super weird creepy texts when I was blacked out, so I guess he is probably used to it, but the kid brings out a different side of me.  The best one ever being, “You’re missing out on an upstairs romp session where they paint their necks with the bowl-skier.” Whatever in the hell that means.  If I have a moment where I start thinking I am too cool for school or any of these faggots I read that text message to bring myself back to reality.

He replied about how even before all of this he knew I was the girl with a hook and that the selfishness in him wants to be with me.  I think I should seriously consider touring the United States talking to high school girls about lines that guys will try to pull to get you to sleep with them, AND if they’re desperate enough they’ll poke holes in the condoms so they can get you forever.

I woke up this morning to find that I had posted this on his facebook wall:

Apparently, to me, an overweight monkey wearing a jean jacket is just HIL-ARIOUS at 4 o’clock in the morning.  I’m really working on the monkey issue but unfortunately there isn’t psychotherapy offered yet for a monkey addiction.  And if I drink? Well, you see what I do.

All in all, the stuff was really nice and made me feel good. And if I hadn’t been shit on by every single guy I’ve ever dated I probably would’ve bought it and woken up with him in my bed.  What’s really good to know is that even when I am bordering a blackout I still have my wits and can smell bullshit from a mile away.  He has been texting me all day trying to take me on a date, to get margaritas and tacos.  The kid knows me too well to know that I will never turn down an alcoholic beverage, especially if it is paired with a tiny corn envelope!

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