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Gud morning (read post for explanation)

Mr. 7am is history.  Today I saw the following on his Facebook.

There were FIVE women involved in this conversation. I was not one of them. I was just an observer.

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“Gud”  That’s what he always says.  Drove me fucking crazy.  How hard is it to spell out “good”?  IQ not found.

He doesn’t look at his Facebook often, obviously.  He’s absolutely as stupid as I had thought.  Why else would he friend all these women who he’s fucking and then let them freely post to his Facebook page?

I know I have good pussy.  I can find someone worthy of it.

Adios Mr. 7am and your disgusting lying cheating despicable self.

And yes, I know there are names still in there, and I DON’T CARE.

Ladies, beware.  If it seems too good to be true, it is.  If he’s pretty & dumb, stay away.  If he’s always working, but broke off his ass, beware.  BEWARE.  Don’t be a dumb pussy.  Be a smart pussy.  Kick those jackasses to the curb & move on!

Sorry.  No fucking happy humping on this post.  Hump at your own risk.

Last Friday Night

Pop-music-alcoholSome nights just aren’t meant to go as planned.

Friday night was supposed to be a fun night out with friends.  It turned into one of the worst nights I’ve had in a long time.  It’s partially my fault.  I just don’t know when to say when, and I’m not just talking about alcohol.

It started out fine.  DC and I went to another local bar where Teacher was playing.  When we arrived there was a large table full of friends having dinner.  I knew most of them.  They’re a great group of people and they invited DC and I to join them.  Not long after we sat down, more friends showed up and joined us.  There were probably twenty of us in total.  We ate, drank, laughed, and enjoyed Teacher’s music.

One of the other people that showed up was Bacchus.  He brought a date and they joined us at the big table.  He and I had talked a few nights earlier about what might happen if I went Friday night and Viking was there, then if Mr. 7am showed up, then Paul Bunyan, and of course Teacher would be there.  It could potentially be one big cluster fuck.  Then Bacchus said “and then if you left with me.”  I thought it was funny and that the cherry on top would be me going home completely alone.  Turns out I wasn’t so wrong about that part.  More on that in a minute.

A little while later Teacher’s girlfriend, who I still think is the most bland person ever, showed up with her guy friend that was with her last time we were there.  She was sitting directly behind me at one of the pub tables, our backs to each other.  We never speak or even really make eye contact which is fine with me.  They didn’t stay long.

When DC and I went out to smoke the Viking showed up.  He said hello and went on inside.  The Viking is a guy who I’ve met a few times.  He’s also a friend of Teacher’s.  I saw him at another bar a few weeks ago when I was out with Bacchus.  We talked and had a good time.  Since the Viking and I were already friends on Facebook, I sent him a message the next day.  I told him it was good to see him and that maybe we could hang out sometime.  He agreed and said he’d let me know when he got back to town.  He works out of state.  Part of the reason I went Friday night was because I knew the Viking was going to be there.  I wanted the chance to talk to him more and maybe see if he was interested in hanging out more.

I had talked to Mr. 7am again on Wednesday, and he said he wanted to hang out this weekend so I told him he could just pick me up from the bar when he got off work.  I know I said I was going to stop seeing him, but I figured I’d give him one last chance.

He text me a little after 9:00 pm and said that he had to go home after work because he was going to get up early and cut grass before going back to work the next afternoon.  I was angry and hurt and embarrassed because I had let him do that to me yet again.  I told DC and she said I probably should give up on him because something just isn’t right with him.  I know she’s right and that’s what I should do.

tumblr_m7lajcEDVo1qchllgo1_500In my anger, I decided it was time to move on, so I changed my focus toward other pursuits.  I was no longer dickmatized and since Mr. 7am was no longer coming to the bar, I decided to try to talk to the Viking a little.  A bunch of us were outside smoking and talking and Viking sat down beside me.  We talked a little, mostly joking around and enjoying the crazy conversation that his friend and an old drunk man were having.  Things didn’t really seem to be going anywhere with him, so again, I decided to move on.

I had noticed the bar manager the few times that I’ve been to that bar, and I decided maybe I should give him a shot, just for kicks.  He did remember my name, even though I couldn’t remember his, but then again, most people find it easy to remember my name.  However, I wasn’t really in the mood to put any effort into him and quickly let that one go too.

The bar was getting ready to close so after one last beer I followed Bacchus and some others back to the room that he had gotten for the night.  That’s when the party really got going.  There were people in the room, outside the room, just everywhere.  I managed to have a really good time even though I wasn’t really on the prowl anymore at that point.  I was just having fun hanging out with everyone.

It did strike me a bit odd though that the Viking hooked up with the falling-down-drunk girl from a few weeks ago.  She seems nice, but evidently her standards are pretty low, as are his.  I was glad to have dodged that bullet once I saw how disturbing the “hook-up” looks from the outside.  They got caught making out in the back of a vehicle and then shortly after they left together.

tgif8So the numbers were falling but there was still a good crowd there hanging out.  I did manage to get into a conversation with the bar manager, and he seemed nice, but he also seemed to be stuck on the tall blonde bartender.  So again, I moved on.

Finally, we were down to the basics.  Just me, Bacchus, and Mr. & Mrs. Right.  They are friends that I met through Teacher and I adore both of them.  Eventually Mrs. Right decided it was time to go to sleep so she passed out on one of the beds in the room.  I was outside the room sitting on the tailgate of Mr. Right’s truck talking to him and some old drunk guy who disappeared at some point leaving Mr. Right and me to talk.

CqFOqHDHxZ8lAs we were sitting on the tailgate talking, I noticed that the curtain in the room was open about a foot.  Then I noticed the lights lower.  See, I forgot to tell you that Bacchus’ date had also passed out, on the other bed in the room.  She had been there for a few hours and was out cold.  While I was trying to be a good friend to Mr. Right and give him some relationship advice (I know I should not be giving relationship advice, so no comments on that one please) I saw something through the window that I wish I had never seen.

I was trying really hard to pay attention to Mr. Right talking to me, but it was very difficult considering I was watching Bacchus have sex with his date, with Mrs. Right asleep in the next bed less than four feet away, and I just couldn’t concentrate.  It was an odd mixture of shock, disgust, anger, and yet I couldn’t stop looking.  I was just praying that his date was actually conscious during it.  Otherwise, that would be pretty shitty of him.

So, there I was panicked and frozen sitting on the tailgate of a truck in a hotel parking lot watching my friend fuck some drunk woman (who told DC & I at dinner that she was married) while trying to give heartfelt advice to Mr. Right.  What a fucked up night it was.  It still makes my head spin just thinking about it.

To be true to the “confession” part of my blog, I have tried to be more than friends with Bacchus a couple of times, but only because he was flirting with me just as much as I was flirting with him.  He even came right out and told me one night that I’d have to make the first move.  I did and that turned out terrible.  He got scared and ran.  So that’s fine.  I think he makes a better friend anyway.

Wonderwoman_dodging_bullets_by_TopcowImage2dFI consider myself to be a good person.  Yes, I do bad things sometimes, but not terribly bad.  In general I’m a caring, compassionate, loving, smart, friendly person who tries to give people the benefit of the doubt.  So why is it that men keep choosing these skanks, plain janes, and old drunk whores over me?  Not that I really wanted any of those guys, but (and this is the narcissist in me coming out again) why would they not even try….or did they try and I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to take notice?  Either way, I’m so happy that I went home alone Friday night (the only part of the “plan” that actually went as planned).  I may not have felt that way when I first got home, but after a day or two of meditation and writing I realized where I stand with people and how many bullets I’d probably dodged.  So…yay me!

Happy humping & keep your options open, but watch out for those stray bullets!

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99 problems but a prick ain’t one

So, I had an interesting night.  It started out that I was just supposed to ride to a neighboring city to hear Teacher‘s band play.  I’m friends with a couple in the band and my friend Bacchus was nice enough to offer me a ride.  Everything was fine until I found out that TB was supposed to be going also.  TB, short for Talker Bitch, is batshit crazy and everything that comes out of her non-stop mouth reeks of bullshit.  I noticed all this when I first met her a week ago, but I was drunk and was trying to have an open mind and make some new friends.  Damn.  That was a terrible idea.

So she rides with us to the bar.  We get there and Teacher’s band hadn’t started playing yet, so he was outside smoking with all of us.  While we were there he made a snide remark about E.B. and asked what time he was coming.  I didn’t take to that very kindly and quipped back that I had a very heavy purse in my hand and his head makes for a very large bald target.  TB quickly got all hyped up and kept telling me that I shouldn’t let him talk to me like that.  First of all, it was a joke.  I knew that.  Given the opportunity and the right mood, I would probably have done the same thing.  No worries.  I was fine.

As the night progressed, and TB drank more beer, she became an attention whore to the tenth degree.  That was fine.  I was sitting at my little table drinking my Diet Coke and minding my phone.  Oh yeah, by the way, I was the designated driver, hence the “no alcohol for me” thing.  This was probably only the second time in my life that I have been assigned “Designated Driver” duties and I took it seriously…well, seriously enough.  I had one drink because someone brought it to me, but that was it.

We did listen to the band for a while once they started.  Teacher was awesome as always.  No surprise there.  Then during the break we went back outside to smoke.  Somehow during the conversation, TB came over to me, grabbed my hair, and pulled.  I almost lost it.  I said, “What the fuck! Not cool.”  Of course she and Bacchus tried to play it off.  She especially.  She said, “I didn’t pull it.  I just did like this.”  Then she proceeded to gently run her fingers though my hair.  That just made my temper flare even more.  Hasn’t this damn girl ever heard that you don’t fuck with a redhead?  She needs to be schooled.  I was tempted, but I didn’t school her.  Oh, my God, I wanted to choke the bitch.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.  I overcame.  I was proud of myself.

Then once back inside, there was this whole other drama with this meth head bitch who looked like Twiggy, if Twiggy was raised from the dead a hundred years from now.  But of course, a lot of the guys thought that she was easy prey and tried their best to get in her pants anyway.  Even though she was high as hell and crazy as hell.

Then there was the narcissistic chauvinistic fat-ass lawyer who thought he was hot shit.  He gave me the creeps big time.  I just backed away slowly and went back into the bar like a good little girl.

If all that wasn’t enough to kill my mood, then the next part completed it.

I walked inside to go to the bathroom.  The bar was closing up and Teacher was taking down the equipment.  He came up to me and said, “Would you mind driving me home?  I’d really appreciate it.”  Without thinking I said of course I would.  First, and I told him this, TB was about to give me an aneurism, and second I didn’t want him driving if he was drunk.  I do still care you know.

Well that didn’t go over too well with TB and Bacchus.  I honestly thought Bacchus would be ok to drive, but I guess I was wrong.  They got pissed.  I freaked out, but I didn’t let them know.  I said I’d see if Teacher would want to just ride with us.  So I went inside to tell him what was going on and he told me not to worry, just to take them home because I had already promised them.  FUCK.  Confession: I almost teared up when he told me to go ahead and take them home.  I’m not sure why.

I drove them back here.  I thought they were going to fuck in the backseat while I was driving the 45 minutes back, but that was mainly because that’s what happened the last time I was the “designated driver.”  I don’t think they did, and when we finally made it back I just wanted out.  We were waiting on her mom to meet us and pick her up, which was taking forever.  I was tempted to get out and just walk home from there, but I knew Bacchus wouldn’t let me do that.

Eventually, like this post, it all ended.  I got home, got some sweet tea, pulled out the laptop, and started writing this.  So there ya go.  Like the song says, ” I got 99 problems but a bitch prick ain’t one.”  She was definitely my top problem for the night.  No more TB for me.

Ahhhhhhhh.  Sweet silence.  It’s just you and me, girls & guys, just like it should be.

Happy (quiet) humping!

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P.S.  Yes, I’m actually writing a P.S.  My 40th birthday is next week.  Expect my 400th post on my 40th birthday to be one you’ll never forget.

Silly men, Craigslist is for real whores

I’m sick of not being able to write whatever I want just because I’m afraid to offend or piss people off.  I’m mostly referring to Teacher.  My last post about what has been going on with him was on April 20th.  Quite a bit has happened since then and it’s past time that I get some of this crap out of my head.  I have an unhealthy tendency to bottle my feelings up inside until I can’t hold it in any longer, then I explode.  So before I do that I’m just going to go ahead and let it all out in a healthier way.

The day after that post on April 20th I started getting weird emails on my phone.  I have an email that I had set up last year for a project that I was working on with Teacher.  So we both had the email address set up on our iPhones.  I quickly realized that the emails were being sent to that address because Teacher had mistakenly replied to Craigslist ads using that email address.

In case you're wondering, I have no problem posting this pic that one of the whore's sent because even if she's not a whore, she shouldn't be sending naked pics of herself to people because they might end up on my blog or worse.  At least I cropped out her face.

In case you’re wondering, I have no problem posting this pic that one of the whores sent because even if she’s not a whore, she shouldn’t be sending naked pics of herself to people because they might end up on my blog or worse. At least I cropped out her face.

The ads that he replied to were personal ads for whores.  The real kind, not just the slutty kind.  At first I just sat in shock reading the emails.  Then I sent my sister a text telling her what was going on and asking if I should just change the password on the email account.  She wasn’t much help.  She just shared my shock and disbelief.

As I was going through the emails that kept coming through, they suddenly disappeared from the inbox.  He had realized his mistake, well, one of them at least, and deleted them.  It was too late though because they had already downloaded into my Microsoft Outlook.

I finally sent him a text that said, “Really? You’re willing to pay for sex with a whore, but you wouldn’t fuck me for free?”  He replied back apologizing, saying that he was just curious, he never cheated on me, and he guessed he was as much of a piece of shit that I wrote about on my blog.  Then he ended it saying, “Yeah this is embarrassing and awkward.  But I guess I deserve it.”  I couldn’t even reply after that.  I never called him a piece of shit by the way.  I don’t think I even ever thought about calling him that.  A selfish immature prick maybe, but not a piece of shit.

The next day, after stewing over what had happened, I sent him a text.  I suggested that he not read my blog any more.  That was it.  I was done.

The next day he asked if we could meet for lunch and talk about all this.  I agreed to meet him.  Unfortunately I don’t think it helped much.  Right off he wanted to say that he wasn’t going to actually meet any of those women, he was only curious.  I didn’t have much to say.  It was all I could do just to sit there and drink my tea and not break down crying.  I didn’t even want to look at him.  Because no matter what he thinks, I do still love him and I would have done anything to make it all go away and just go back to us being happy in our little cottage.  I’m not delusional though.  I know that can’t happen, mainly because he doesn’t know what the hell he wants, but it sure as hell doesn’t seem to be me.

So after that awkward lunch date, I thought maybe we could at least just stay friends, even if I wasn’t able to be around him yet without feeling like my heart was being ripped out of my chest all over again.

MjAxMy02ZjFkNTU0NmNjYTg5ZWRThings seemed to be going OK for a few days.  He even let me use his van to pick up some groceries and stuff I left at the house.  Then on Saturday, a friend and I went to the local bar/restaurant to hang out, drink some beers, and listen to the music.  The problem was that Teacher and Jacket were providing the music.  I actually knew that before we went.  My friend also knew that Teacher would be there.  It was sort of part of the plan.

A friend had told me Friday night that it would probably be good for Teacher to see me out with another guy.  I guess she meant that it would prove to him that I am capable of moving on and going out and having fun.  My guy friend was really cool about the whole thing.  He knew what was going on, and he agreed that it would be for the best.  It turned out to just be stressful and awkward though.

Teacher did come say hello during his first break, and yes, it was awkward.  Then later he came back again after some other people had sat down with us.  Then after the show I was sitting with CoolGal and catching up because I hadn’t seen her in a while, and she started telling a funny story about the night her sister was obsessed with my hair and kept touching it.  Teacher had come up behind me and started demonstrating.  Once would have sufficed, but he kept doing it.  To the point that it became uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to say anything in front of everyone, plus I was so tensed up that I probably couldn’t have said anything at the time.  He finally stopped and then left not long after.  I did however send him a text later that night telling him to never touch me again.

So that’s what’s been going on in my world.  It just keeps getting crazier and more stressful.  Let’s all take a moment to pray that things start getting better.

Happy humping! (But don’t take naughty pics unless you want the world to see!)

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You know what sucks about being a whore?

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“You know what sucks about being a whore?” asked Fallen Angel.

“Having to fuck ugly men?” replied me.

“Shaving your legs five times a week and changing the sheets three times a week.  Maybe you get used to sleeping in cum, but I never have,” she explained.

That was courtesy of my sister, Fallen Angel.  Bless her heart.

Happy humping! (Another meeting of the She-Woman Man-Haters Club is adjourned.)

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