This entry will not make the world a better place. It will not inspire change in the world, advance feminism, or save an orphan. I am going to bitch about something stupid and meaningless and you know what, I'M NOT FUCKING SORRY ABOUT IT. Maybe it'll take your mind off your own shit for a few minutes. Or maybe you can mock my petty problems. Either way, read it and love it, or hate it and suck it.
I've learned recently that I have to be a little more subtle with my code names for people when I write about them. Because it turns out that every dude I have ever had a conversation with and definitely every dude that would be on my call list if I found out I had herpes, reads this god damn blog. It's my own fault. I did put it up on my dating profile and shit got pretty crazy after that. Like the dudes who only wanted to meet up so I would write about them. Eat a dick. You're not interesting enough to write about. Also I don't need you throwing a drink at me or pulling out your dick at a bar to make a good story. I have enough problems in my life without drinks and dicks flopping around in my face. You know what, fuck it. I've had too much booze and I just took an Ambien and a muscle relaxer so there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to think up new nicknames for people and keep them straight. If I wake up to angry texts tomorrow, so be it. But don't send them too early you fuckers, I got a wedding to get blacked out at tomorrow. I need my rest.
Previously I mentioned a dude we call "The Actor", who I met on the internet. After weeks of flirt texting and blackout texting and lots of eggplant emojis being sent back and forth, we went on a date. I thought as far as first dates go, it was pretty fucking decent. We both knocked over drinks at the first bar. Super classy. Had a brief make out session in a parking structure. Even got a phone call from the dude making sure my slightly drunk ass got home safely. Then the son of a bitch phantomed. I was pretty pissed but decided that he was probably a baby rapist and I had dodged a bullet of being known as the girl with the boyfriend who was a baby rapist. I mean, that's something you don't come back from.
After I posted that blog, I got a random text from him thanking me for the shoutout. I was on my way to be penetrated by a beard so I was only irritated by his sudden appearance. But whatever, I said something noncommittal and that was the end of that.
Despite being super annoyed by his little bitchness, I guess in the back of my mind it's bothered me why he disappeared, reappeared, then disappeared again. Like, what the fuck? I'm pretty sure dudes can see by the resting bitch face I have when I'm on a date if I'm not into it. Also, I'll send a text saying "I'm not into it." But I definitely don't make out with a dude, check on his safety post-date and then disappear. I can be a fucking asshole, but that's on a whole new level man.
So even though in my real life I didn't give a fuck about this dude, in my drunk life I still had rage blackouts about it. After shit with the beard went sideways I'll admit it, but I'm blaming my uterus, I looked up The Actor on OkCupid to see if he still had an account. I couldn't find him, so I came to terms that he must've met someone. I wished him the best. And by the best, I mean I hoped she would cheat on him with all 6 of his roommates and steal his flatscreen television and leave him with period stained underwear and at least 76 STD's. I'm totally a good person. I truly put him out of my mind completely.
But because my life is fucking stupid, his face popped up on my potential matches page the other day. Sidenote: allegedly we're a 92% match. Yeah, I know. This is the shit that the internet tells us and therefore FUCKING RUINS OUR SOULS. I literally felt sick to my stomach. No longer can I pretend he's recovering somewhere in an adult diaper while the sores on his penis ooze. If anything he probably got into an accident that made his dick bigger. FUUUUUUUUUUUCK. The worst part is that he's kinda the cutest. Ugh. I hate him. I hate men. I hate my pets right now because they are simultaneously licking their penises. I just feel so attacked right now in my own home.
It's dumb that this bothers me. It's dumb that it's plagued me all day. It's pathetic that every time I get a notification I want it to be from him. The rational part of my brain accepts that I'm not his jam. But the irrational part of my brain thinks I could ply him over here with booze and boobs and I could lock this shit down. But to get phantomed on twice? I don't think I have the emotional strength to survive that. I'm already on rocky ground these days. Every time I see a puppy meme I lose my fucking shit and sob until I need an ambulance.
I know what I have to do. I have to drink one more glass of wine. And then I have to message him. Something casual, no big deal. Something like: "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME YOU FUCKING FUCKING BASTARD.?? I'M A GOOD COOK. I'M DOWN FOR THE SEXY TIMES ALL DAY EVERYDAY. I WILL SKIP MEALS FOR SEX. THAT IS A TRUTH. ALSO I HAVE AWESOME TATOOS THAT GIVE YOU FUN THINGS TO LOOK AT DURING NAKED TIMES AND MY DOWNSTAIRS IS LIKE ABABY'S VAGINA. AND ASSHOLE! Please love me.
That message seems like a winner right? Like we'll be planning our wedding next year. Popping out so many french bulldog baby puppies.
These meds are kicking in and I feel ready to make some bad choices. I'm gonna message him. I'm gonna play it cool. I'm gonna take a lot of the stuff out of the first message out. But I'm definitely leaving in the stuff about my hairless kitty and asshole. Wish me luck guys.
Mama's gonna go get herself a hot date! I'll probably bring diapers just in case.
Cheers!! I'm so fucked up right now. I love you all. And FYI blogging naked is EVERYTHING .
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