Fucking Irony

After my last relationship ended, I decided that I should stop undervaluing myself. I should aim higher. I mean, not to brag, but I'm fucking awesome. Half of the people who know me would agree. 

Anyway, in this quest to aim higher, I still realize the bar is rather low. I have these ground rules which shouldn't ever have to be spoken. 

1. Must have a job

2. That job must not be a part-time stint mowing lawns for your friends. 

3. Must have a penis. 

See, really not hard to meet those standards, but those are set in stone. I have other suggested tips that I'm a little more flexible on, apparently. 

1. Knowing how to use said penis is a plus. 

2. A job with a 401k would be nice. 

3. Knowing what a 401k is would be even nicer. 

In the end, men can usually spot a single and in need of loving chick from a mile away. They are vulnerable. They are horny. And they are usually rather easy. That is the trifecta of a good time. Or bad. Depending on her level of inebriation. 

Since I have become single, meeting men hasn't been a problem. And they've all had jobs. So I'm on a fucking roll. Kinda. Sorta. Omg this has turned into a nightmare. 

I have been talking (or whatever the new slang for that is) to this guy that I met. I don't really have a title for him because, well let's just say that timing is an issue. I just call him my LC, living chocolate, I crave to talk to him and maybe bite him because I'm a bitch like that. And everyone that knows me knows how special chocolate is to me.  Anyway, he also has a job. So far so good. 

However, in this weird twist of irony, I also have what I would have originally called an admirer. On paper, this guy is great: well educated, certificates, career, etc. He is also very nice and seems to be genuine. But... And there is a huge fucking BUT...

He doesn't fucking get it. I'm not interested in him. I've said as much. A lot. At first I tried to let him down gently, then I had to become more direct, now I'm just pissed. I thought at first that he was sensitive and needed gentle. Now he is writing me letters and sending me incessant texts. 

He moved from like to love in a month. And he doesn't even know me. I'd crush his soul without even batting an eye. But now, with his stalkerish ways, I'm wanting to crush his face. 

Last night, I went out with friends to enjoy dinner before we watched a movie. He showed up right after we ordered. At a table directly in front of Butch's line of view. We couldn't hide. I tried. I've been practicing the art of invisibility, but I'm not far enough in training to pull that shit off. 

After he came over and spoke, we finished up and left. Then the texts started. And they have continued. I have ignored. I will keep ignoring. Until I have to go to work tomorrow. Because I'm HIS FUCKING SUPERVISOR. For now. 

Anyway, the point of this is what my friend, J, pointed out. The time when I decide to increase my standards, when I try to value myself more, is when a seemingly nice guy turns into a creeper. Just my fucking luck. 

For now, I will just confide in my friends, keep telling LC about the weird goings on, and I will hope that the creepiness ends soon. 

This town is too small...

Forever you Cat Lady, maybe,

Meg

Now Hiring: Chemist with a Sick Sense of Humor

When my two best friends and I were bored, we would always come up with ways to entertain ourselves. Usually it was in the form of Spades, but sometimes we stooped to doing stupid things. 

We were notorious for changing the words of songs into something inappropriate. My fave was to the tune of "American Pie" by Don McLean and went something like this...

My my, G looks like a guy

I drove my Chevy through her legs

She had some hairy thighs...

Others were more amusing and talked of dingleberries among other disgusting things. However, the most creative idea I had from those days is something I can't develop on my own. I will need someone that understands chemistry and is willing to get a niche in this huge market. 

I want to create some kind of medicine or something that will make a man's semen taste like chocolate. Women love chocolate. Semen, not so much. If it has the flavor of chocolate, it would be like sucking hot fudge trough a straw. And we would be more apt to go down on a man. 

It is ingenious. It would make the men and women of the world much happier. It wouldn't be just wasted calories. It wouldn't be so laborious anymore. We would get a reward at the end. A bonus. Fellatio would then be something we would be willing to do a little more often. 

This is where you come in. Find me a chemist. Find me someone willing to help create this. Also, come up with a name because I'm at a loss. 

No More Bad Head

Meg