and another thing..
Really.
Really?!
Let me make this clear. I do not care about your dick. I don’t want to you message me every time you are horny. I don’t care if you are watching porn. I don’t want to know that you woke up hard. I don’t really care. At all. So no, I won’t call and let you talk dirty to me. And the fact that once I said no you quit talking completely just means you are nothing but a prick.
So go fuck yourself.
Ok? Ok.
Seeking Intelligent Life
Dear Boys,
Do me a favor, hm? If you want to contact me, PLEASE read my profile before you ask stupid questions. Case in point, the actual messaged conversation that happened moments ago:
Him: I am drank. Do you go out?
Me: Yes. Might later.
Him: I meet you there! Where?
Me: You’re in Anchorage. That’d be one hella commute.
Him: Yes?
Me: That’s three hours away.
Him: You can drive.
Me: No, I can’t.
Him: oh. R U Single?
Me: DID YOU EVEN READ MY PROFILE? Yes. Widow. Single.
Him: Yes.
Really? REALLY? First, you are DRUNK. not drank. And just assuming I’m going to drive three hours on winter roads through the mountains just to “go out” when it’s already 8pm, is just ridiculous. So here’s a hint: Read the profile. There it says where I live, and if you don’t recognize it, look it up. JFGI man. Google is your friend. It also says that I am single. It also mentions kids and rules.
Now, I know it’s a lot of words – but prove to me you are intelligent enough to read, ok? Ok.
Sincerely,
Me.
I think…
…that once in a while, everyone should park and make out in the car like teenagers until the cops arrive.
It’s good for the soul.
*snicker*
The best thing…
…that came from my oh so brief dating of douchecanoe? He convinced me to get these…
…while random online shopping. I love them in all their warm stripey goodness! These socks, and their brother n sister pairs that arrived in the same box, make me smile. And also keep my feets warm. SO WARM.
[I’ve yet to try the adhesive stuff to make thigh high stockings stay where they belong, but if that works too? TOTAL WIN. Well done, douchecanoe, well done.]
[even better? He never got to see them. They came in the mail the day he decided girls have cooties. Hehehe.]
And another thing…
Just because we’ve known each other a while, and now I’m available to date, does not mean that all the sudden all I want to talk about is sex – let alone sex with you. ESPECIALLY if you haven’t bothered to say hello in some time, or tried to have an actual conversation. You remember conversations right? If not – Try things like – how’s the family? The kids? Mom and dad? Or I dunno, asking about me… for gods sake, talk about something something that lets me know I’m more than just a vagina that’s recently hung an ‘open for business’ sign.
Seriously.
Common sense, guys.
[Is not common – I know.]
In case this isn’t clear enough – here are some things recently said to me that will GUARANTEE that you will not get to see if there is, indeed, an ‘open for business’ type sign on the vajayjay.
“Would you try to suffocate me?” – only with a pillow. and not MY pillows, freak.
“I just want to coat you with oil and play slip and slide…”
“You make me so horny.” …I haven’t even said hello. Nice.
“I dreamt about you last night…”
“I had to wack off three times before I could sleep thanks to you..”
“I wanna make you scream..” …mission accomplished, though not as you thought. G’way now.
And so on. And so forth. So yeah. Try getting to know me, first. I want more than just SEX people – because clearly? I can get that ANYWHERE. Heh.
