This Can’t Be Happening!

This just in. . . . OM loves blow jobs.  But………… Yes, my god there’s a fucking but……… damn shame.  Blow jobs are in his “no sex” clause.   Evidently, I can suck and lick on his balls, but placing that nice fucking cock in my mouth is a no go.  

Oh holy fuck.  Ya know, that kind of pisses me off, especially since I was just getting back into wanting to give head….And w/out receiving anything for my attentions.  

I was actually starting to daydream.  Inviting him over.  Getting him thru the door, then either a.) dragging him into my bedroom, get him comfy on the bed, then strip him from the waist down, and go to down on his dick; or b.) tear his pants off at the door and get on my knees and lick, suck till my heart’s content or till he explodes in my mouth. 

But NO…. Fuck NO it ain’t going to happen.   My only hope is that I wear him down.  But there’s no fucking way of that.  Oh it’s just so fucking aggravating. 

No Sex for Me

I’ll get back to personality after this:

I moved this past weekend, with the help of a male friend from work, who I’ll call A,  my dad, mom, & brother.   (I thought my brother would be working, come to find out he quit or got fired – which is why I asked A.)  Anyways, the moving day did not start off well.  First, I had to go to work.  Second, on the way home to move A decided he wasn’t actually going to pay full attention to how he was driving, and plowed into my back-end.  The sound it made was horrendous.  But little damage was done, just some chipped paint.  Either way, I was okay w/ my baby being hit, and I made A aware of this.  Told him not to dwell on it.  Well, he did, and probably still is 5 days later.

Anyways, A decided to start tearing down my water-bed frame while we waited on my dad to get ready.  In the process of doing this, I told him that the headboard needed to come down first since it is heavy.  He didn’t listen.  Instead, he took off the one side, took off the bottom, and took off the other side.  The headboard comes crashing down.  Well, ok, I caught one side of it, but still, the other side *crashed* down!   That actually pissed me off.  And so I started moving things and got away from him. 

See, A has issues.  He’s taking medication for them.  But I found out he took himself off of his medication for the past week.  Which is not good.  He’s a little anxious.  He dwells, etc.   So, he’s constantly go, go, go.  This part of his personality bothers me.  I can’t handle it.  It’s annoying and just overall frustrating.  Ok, more annoying than anything.

Anyways, my point in this is somewhere.  Somewhere being, I could never, in a million years be in a relationship w/ a man like this.  If I say something, I want to be heard.  I don’t want to have to worry about his mental welfare. I don’t want to have to worry about my physical possessions.   Listen to me!!!

Another point.  All my friends seem to think A and I would be perfect together.  Since, mostly, we already have that  Been-Married-For-50-Years friendship.  We fight, we laugh, we talk, we don’t.  Like we’ve been married for 50 years.   But there’s a reason, maybe two, why we haven’t given an actual boyfriend/girlfriend relationship a chance.  His: because he doesn’t want to ruin another friendship. Mine: he doesn’t have sex.

Yes, he doesn’t have sex.  He is a born again christian, which goes against everything I believe in.  I believe I should be able to try the milk before I buy the cow.  I believe if the sex isn’t good, the relationship won’t last.  I believe if my needs can’t be met experimentally, at least, there’s no chance.  

I know this guy, I feel it deep down in my bones, he would never go for what I have in mind.  He would never tie me up. He would never spank me like he means it.  He would never wrap his hand around my throat.  He would never bite me.  He would never pull my hair.  He would never paddle me.  He would just never take charge.  I can only see him doing it missionary.  Possibly even doggy style.  And of course, every mans’ dream: girl on top.  But not how I want it.  Not what will turn me and turn me loose. 

Nobody . . . .well, nobody that actually knows me, thinks he’ll just turn his nose up at my suggestions.  They all think that given half the chance, I could probably get him to have sex before getting married. That I could get him to do kinky, freaky things w/ me.   But I know A, I know him so well, it’s not going to happen. 

This is why I can not be w/ him.  It’s actually first and foremost.  Way beyong his mental instability. Way beyond his need to do everything for everybody.  (He’s not needy tho, do not confuse or blur that line.)   But at the same time, I don’t want to have to deal w/ the way he is on a daily basis.  During work is enough for me.

But yet, nobody seems to understand.

What Goes Around . . .

I met a 19 year old 2 years ago.  On the internet.  It was around 11pm when we first started chatting.  And around midnight I finally gave in to him coming over for some fun.  He was so persistent.  Something I almost like about men.  I kind of like having the decision making taken away from me.  And he did, because I know if I would have said no, which I actually did, he would have kept asking and telling me to let him come over. 

Yes, I do realized I could have just logged off to end the harassing.  But I wanted to be persuaded.  And well, I was sort of in a needy mood.    So he came over.  (After he got lost for a good 20 minutes.)

We had idle chitchat for about 10 minutes, then we moved it to my bedroom.  He stripped me down bare.  He kept his t-shirt on.  He kissed me.  He couldn’t kiss that well.  I should have known from there it wasn’t going to be all that good.  He proceeded to shove 2 fingers inside me and roughly jerk me off.   I repeatedly told him over and over, “Not so hard.”  I even grabbed his wrist to stop him from trying to touch my lungs w/ his fingers.   It was so rough, within 10 minutes I was swollen inside.  I was so uncomfortable.  But at the same time, I was kind of turned on.

Finally he stopped abusing my pussy, and stuck his dick inside me, which was nicely shaped and of a tad bit over average size.  The sex lasted all of 5 minutes.    So not only was I extremely sore, I didn’t get off.    Inconsiderate lover?  Definitely.  After we got dressed, he needed a cigarette.  So did I, just to get him out of my place.  We smoked.  He left.

The following days, he called me.  And called me.  And called me.  And called me.  Etc. Etc.  One day, in a span of 45 minutes he had called  me a total of 12 times.  And it was kind of embarrassing for me since I was at a drug store refilling a prescription.  And my phone kept ringing.   I know, I should have turned it off, but I wanted to see just how many times in a row he’d call me.  Just so I could get a sense of what exactly I was dealing w/.   Or yeah, I could have answered it.  But talking to him, or rather, him talking to me, just wasn’t all that interesting.

He tried and tried and tried to talk to me.  I finally gave in around January 5th because it was his birthday and he was spending it at home, w/ his dad.  I felt bad for him.  So, he turned 20 in my bed.  He wasn’t so rough, and the sex was a smidge better.  Still no orgasm f0r me.  And he talked.  Nonstop for about an hour.  I could not get a word in edgewise.  (This is why him talking to me just isn’t all that interesting.)   Then I kicked him out.  Oh, after he bummed a cig from me. 

Broke bastards who still live w/ their parents should not be smoking if they can’t afford it.  Supporting my habit is hard enough.   Ok, so ya paid attention there right……… lives w/ his parents.   This is going to come into play.  Soon.

I dodge him for awhile after the “birthday present.” I didn’t answer my phone when he called, and I think I even blocked him from messaging me.  And then I got careless and unblocked him and low and behold, he shows up.   He says he wants to see me again.  He says he wants me.  He says all that shit that men think women want to hear so they can get in their pants. . . . and then I told him, “NO!”   All of a sudden I’m fat.  And I should be ashamed of where I live.  And my place probably shakes when I walk in it.  Yadda Yadda Yadda, Blah Blah Blick!  

This is what I expected from a 20 year old.  This is why I never, ever, ever stooped so low as to “date” a youngbuck.  They’re just not agreeable w/ me.   So, after that, that was that.   I pretty much wrote him off.  I thought,  “Good, this kid is going to go smoke up in his car listening to Lynryd Skynyrd, and work at the construction retail rodeo.  I can breathe easy now.”    Um.   No.

Couple months later, “Can I see you again?  I miss you.  You’re so beautiful.”   Last time I checked I was fat.  As in he said it like it was a bad thing.   Anyways, I pointed this out to him.  And I told him, of course, “I forgive you for what you said, but it is NOT forgotten.   You fucked up, you pay for your fuck up.   Sorry, I’m not going to lower myself to your level, because, truthfully, I can do better than a pot smoking just out of diapers wannabe hippy.”  Oh, and I didn’t even mention that he lives w/ his parents whereas I am, of course, Independent!  (This is where he lives w/ his parents comes into play. {Yes, I have issues w/ people who are of age who live w/ their parents and … don’t have a full time job, or have afull time job but would still rather mooch, it is, in a word, pathetically-sad.})

That wasn’t the only time I’ve heard from him.  And I’m quite sure I will hear from him again.  He just has that personality: WEAK!

Controlled, But Too Much. Part II

 . . . continued . . .

I don’t really know how to write the 2nd part of this.  It feels kind of weird.   He was so damn controlling, and I let him control me because, and I’m reiterating this: I thought I deserved it.    If I didn’t think I deserved all the things he did to me, I wouldn’t have went along w/ it.  And nowadays if someone even remotely suggests telling me what to do, I tend to go off on them.  Or just completely cut them out of my life.  I have no time in my life for someone who wants to change me to fit their mold.   Accept me for who I am.

So not only was he controlling my emotional well being and my financial stability, he was controlling my sexuality.  He made me do some things that I wouldn’t have thought of ever really doing just because I would have been too shy to ask.  And he made me do some things, looking back, it kind of grosses me out. 

But I guess that’s okay since I disgusted and repulsed him w/ my past sexual experiences that he made me tell him about.  Enough so that he took to calling me a slut and a whore, because well —- when I’ve been w/ more men than he’s been w/ women, what else am I suppose to be but a slut and a whore?  (I am being facetious and rhetorical there!)

One of the things I liked sexually that he made me do was lick his asshole.  I was embarrassed by it at first.  I thought it was something that shouldn’t be done.  I thought it was just wrong.  Why would you want to stick your tongue where someone shits?   Ah, this is where taking a shower before comes in handy.  And it’s appreciated.  (Boy is it appreciated!)  The first time I did that to him, I was inanimate.  I just used my tongue.  That’s it.  I didn’t really like it because he was straddling my chest.  And it still felt wrong. 

But he made me do it again.  And this time he was laying down on his belly.  And he told me to do it and have fun doing it.  Well, I got animated this time.  Licking, kissing, using my hands, rubbing my breasts across his ass, up and down his back.  I ran my hands up and down his legs, fondled his balls.  Licked them, too!!   I actually had fun!  And I completely enjoyed it if the wetness of my pussy was any indication.

Altho, what happened after I had my fun, was of no fun to me.  He decided that he wasn’t going to fuck me.  At least not w/ his dick.  He was going to fuck me w/ his big toe, on his right foot.  (It’s amazing what I remember.)  He made me lick and suck on his toe like it was his cock.  And then he made me part my nether lips so he could insert his toe.  I felt humiliated.  I felt embarrassed.  I felt dirty.  All I kept thinking was, “Please take your toe out of me.  This is so wrong.  Please stop!”  But I didn’t say anything to him, because I knew he would just stop giving me anything altogether. 

I took what he wanted to give to me.  And like I think I’ve said before.  It wasn’t all that much.  All he would ever do was kiss me, lick/suck on my nipples, and fuck me.  My ass or my pussy.  He would never go down on me.  He wouldn’t bother to think about licking my asshole!  Or kissing my toes.

But I had to suck his dick at least twice a day.  Oh . . . no, I mean I had to let him skull fuck me.  In essence that’s exactly what it was.  He was in control, he was the one holding my head and moving his hips.   He just told me to stay put and place my hand on his dick where he wanted it to stop so I wouldn’t gag.  (Sorry, no deep throating for me, but I make up for it in enthusiasm.)   The thing is when a dick gets nice and lubed up from spit, a hand will not be a deterrent from keeping part of it out.  So in reality, I didn’t have any control over how much of his dick I sucked.  But gee, I thank him for letting me think that.   

This right there, was what made me lose my love of sucking cock.  Doing it and getting nothing in return.  His pleasure was not enough for me.  So . . . he is the reason other guys have not gotten the opportunity and experience of having my lips around their dick.   And having to give nothing in return.

***

My whole outlook on life, or relationships, has changed since him.   I will never again be in that kind of controlling relationship.  I would like a relationship that is 50/50.   If you won’t give it, you won’t receive it! 

The one and only good thing that came out of this is I found that licking a man’s asshole is a huge turn on for me.  And, I guess I can grudgingly give him the controlling aspect of sex.  Altho, the way I see it and want it: It’s got to be non-humiliating for me.  And I have to be able to do to you what you do to me.  

50/50.

Controlled, But Too Much

A few years back I had this X. He was short (5’7″.)  He was mainly Italian.  He was older, but not by much.  His age was not something to joke about.   He lived w/ his mom, dad, and sister.  His hair was thinning.  He had issues w/ his eyebrows.   He lived 2 hours away from me.  Yes . . .  I met him on the internet, in a chatroom.  He was the one who started our conversing. He was the one who picked me.

Our relationship started sometime in the beginning March.  He had me professing love by the middle of the month.  Altho at the time, I only “liked him more than I should have.”  But he wanted to hear those 3 words.  So I told him.  It wasn’t that hard.  It was pretty easily done. And even w/out him saying it back.   And me not totally meaning it, at all.

We were talking on the phone.  Constantly.  I don’t remember a minute we weren’t on the phone if I wasn’t w/ him or at work.  And even then I was using work’s dime to phone him for an hour here and there.  Which, I do feel bad about.  I thought I had a good long distance phone plan.  5 cents a minute.  Not shabby.  (Not what I ended up thinking in the end. Er, middle.)   Sometimes while we were talking he’d have to go to the bathroom or get a drink.  Instead of hanging up, cuz I thought it wouldn’t take more than 5 minutes, he’d set the phone down and do his thing.  This one time.  Oh, this one time, he left me sitting on the phone for 30 minutes waiting for him.  He said he got to talking w/ his sister.  Hmmm, must have forgotten about me.  I did mention, this was on my phone plan.  MY. PHONE. PLAN.  Not his.  If he called me, it was to tell me to call him back.  Because he was jobless at the moment and couldn’t afford to pay for LD.

I got directions to his house. Sorry, his parents’ house.  Which I wasn’t allowed to go to if his family was there.  I did say he lived 2 hours from me, right?  I only was there twice.  Met his mom, once . . . by accident, for a passing minute.   All the other times I was w/ him, it was at a hotel.  For the weekend.  Sometimes long weekends, if he made the request of me.  Or maybe I should demand of me.  And I paid for it.  It had to have a frig in it.  And it had to be an end unit.  I had to pay for it!  Oh . . . and I had to pay for the food. That we got delivered, twice a day.  And I had to buy him a carton of cigarettes.  Each Time!

You are noticing how much money I’m shelling out, right? And you are realizing, it’s not because I wanted to, but because HE. MADE. ME. DO. IT.  

This was his way of making sure I was his.  This was what he needed to make me know I was his.  There was no ignoring it, I was his.  As long as he told me what to do, when to do, and who to do it w/.

Oh, did I mention I had to change my email account.  Not just change it, but cancel it and start another one.  To his specifications.  And I had to change my phone number.  And the only person who was allowed to have it was him.  And he grudgingly let me give it to my family.

Did I mention . . . . I went along w/ all of this?

Yes, I did.  And I did it, because I thought I deserved it.  I went nights months w/out sleep.  I stopped paying my bills.  I started smoking 2 packs a day.  I drove to him.  I listened to what he had to say about his ex . . .

His ex was perfect.  And from Colorado, or somewhere out midwest.  She had the most perfect boobs.  They were big, but there was no sag. They were perky.

I have a friend who has a nice, BIG dick.   Bigger than his.  And I told him that.  Because he asked.  We broke up.   For about 2 hours.  We got back together because I cried and begged.   (My friend still has the bigger dick! So pppfffffttttt!)

I didn’t mention it, but he wouldn’t come visit me.  In the beginning it was because he would never lower himself to be seen where I live.  Then it was because he didn’t have a car, because he had some mad-mom-in-a-minivan hit him.  (He got put on Oxycodone.   He loved them. I didn’t.  Worse woozy feeling ever, but w/ a dull pain behind it.  No thanks.)

This is just the icing.  This is what I didn’t like about him.  This is the controlling part I abhor when I look back on it.   I ran up a $3000+ phone bill on him for 6 months.  I bought him a $250 air conditioner.  Plus some football paraphernalia.  I paid for motel rooms at $60 a night, I bought food at $25-30 a meal. I bought him $25 cartons of cigs.  I paid gas money, tolls, oil changes, etc.  I even got cable TV so we could watch shows together.  All in all, I wish I never got w/ him, he wasn’t worth the monetary value.

. . . to be continued . . .

Not Doing Anything Will Get You Nothing

My fucktoy, the occassional one, he seems to think if he comes over to my place and proceeds to make sexual comments here and there that I’ll want to rip off his clothes and get busy w/ him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen you naked.” “You flashed me that time I was here when I had a girlfriend.”  “I like what we did.”   “You seem to like when we had sex all the other times.”  “You liked having your tongue in my ass.” 

This is all being said while I’m seated on the couch by him flipping thru songs on my CD player out of sheer boredom from listening to him trying to get laid.  He said he came over w/ no naughty intentions, yet every other word out of his mouth is sex related.   I sat there laughing inside.  I knew what he was trying to do.  And yet, him taking off his shirt and showing me his hairy chest, it did nothing for me.  

If he was smart he would have thought back to some of our conversations.  He would have realized I like a man in charge.  He would have known that if he were tearing off my clothes instead of his own, he could have fucked me.  I wasn’t going to remind him, tho. 

It was kinda funny to watch him leave at 10pm when my show, Shark, came on.  I pretty much made him leave.  He thought it was because my show came on.  Once again, if he wanted laid, he should have done something about it, but he didn’t.   I would have given him the chance.

Since that night I haven’t had one phone call from him on a Saturday.  It’s been quite quiet.  Gee, I wonder exactly why it is I haven’t received a call?   Could it be because he didn’t get what he thought he’d get w/ his oh so obviousness?  He didn’t get laid!  Awwww.  

Now that I think about it, I should have put on my black satin robe and greeted him like that, then just see what he would have done.  

People Wonder Why I Am the Way I Am

Responsibility, people! It’s a huge word w/ a huge meaning. It’s one worth taking the time to look up, if the definition eludes you.  I’ll even be nice & define it for you, per Merriam-Webster:

     1.  the quality or state of being responsible:

                                     a.  moral, legal, or mental accountability

                                     b.  reliability, trustworthiness

                           2.  something for which one is responsible:  Burden.

Consideration.  It’s another some thing that has become lost in the world today. Not just w/ youths.  Some elderly have given up being considerate & replaced it w/ entitlement.  Or at least that’s what I’ve noticed.  But I’m not here to talk about the “Entitled Ederly.” 

I was at friend’s Halloween Party.  I rarely go out to begin w/ so this was an occassion.   I even dressed up for it.  But that’s neither here nor there.  At the end of the night, I saw something.  Something that shouldn’t have happened.  Something that was avoided last year at the same friend’s party (I was made aware of the happening the following Monday,)  yet it wasn’t avoided this year, because, well, nobody gave two shits about it.   What happened will always happen. 

What makes me say: responsibility and consideration – well, that’s a matter for the Monday after.   What I saw was called into question by my friend.  I told her exactly what I saw.  I was the only one there Stone. Cold. Sober.    And my eyesight, it did not fail me!  I said my piece and that was that.   About an hour later, I got a nasty-gram from the guilty party.

Seeing as how I work w/ some of the people at the party and it was an after work affair, what occurred should not have been brought into the workplace.  

Ok, I’m not able to put this into words w/out rambling, so I’m just going to out and out type it.   

I got accused of being a rumor monger.  Gossipmonger.  Whatever.   This person that accused me, is the guilty party.  And the reason the  guilty party targeted me is because of those I choose to surround myself w/.   The company I keep is very up-to-date on all the goings-on of those in a position of authority and those not.  I usually listen to all the gossip w/ half an ear, because personally……. I. Don’t. Care.   I’m a very apathetic person.   I don’t give a shit.

Anyways, this nasty-gram pissed me off because I didn’t say a damn thing, except for when my friend asked me about it, and nobody was around.  I didn’t deserve a single word that was typed to me.

In conclusion: do not put yourself in a position you’ll have to defend if you don’t want to defend yourself.  Also, take responsibility for your actions, even if they are/were wrong.  And, be considerate of those you think are going to fuck you over, cuz they just may, and it’ll be because of you.

Annoyance Keep Coming Back

I’ve had numerous men in my life that seem to come and go.   And come and go.  And they all want one thing.   To start off where they left me.  More than anything I hate that, w/ the exception of one.   *ONE*   All the others, they can go to hell.  This includes and is not limited to: the X, the fuck buddy, Eagles, and Doug.

If any of these guys had the balls I thought they had, they would never have bothered to start talking to me in the first place.   But they had some balls.  And now they think they’ve grown bigger balls.

My X called me tonight, after I foolishly gave him my phone number.  And I knew what it would lead to.  I even said no, a few times, until I gave in.  And he said he couldn’t promise to behave, which I totally believe him, because every time he couldn’t control himself around me.  Sick and tired of being someone’s fucktoy when I don’t admire, trust, or respect them.

The fuck buddy is still going strong on the phone calls.   Every Saturday night around 9pm.  Yep, I know it’s coming. And yep, I ignore him. 

Eagles is a whole other matter. And manner.  He’s one I’ve never even came in physical contact w/ because he was too busy spouting off senseless shit and toying w/ me. Plus, he said he has manned up since then.  So I guess that makes him manless when we talked earlier?  Back when I first started talking to him, I liked him well enough.  Well enough to send him some videos (not necessarily of me being bad, but of me saying bad things,) and well enough to make a promise to him.  As far as I’m concerned, that promise became null and void when he became a total pussy.    And I told him about it.  And he said he changed.  He started dating someone else. And that someone else he met, just like he met me.  He gave her a chance…..What the hell was so different about me?  I’m not the one harrassing him now that he’s broken it off w/ me.  I’m not the one trying to make his life a hell.   Hmmmm, maybe he should have thought things thru a little more thoroughly?  Either way, I’ve told him it can’t be the way it was, not after he lied so blatantly.  (This was the first time he came back into my life.)  Now, I’ve got him blocked because the 2nd time he came back, he now thinks that since I’ve seen a picture of him, that I’ll desire him more.  Not so.  He may like my body type, but I don’t like his face.  And if I don’t like a persons face, you can pretty much forget it.  He’s not my type.   Plus, he thinks that since I’ve seen his face that he’ll be getting more pictures from me, more videos.  With him only giving pics in return.   I don’t see how this is fair.  I believe in fairness.   It is NOT fair.

Now Doug.  I’ve met him, he’s lied to me also.  And now he wants to come over and show me his tattoo.  One I’ve already seen.  One that hasn’t changed since I’ve seen him.  And it’s been 2 years.  Not much to seduce me into giving him another BJ for his short fucking dick!   Maybe if he had one of size, I’d have considered checking out his tattoo again, but I don’t think so.   And then he disappeared after I said no.  Imagine that.

Out of these 4 guys, 3 of them have lied to me.  Yet that doesn’t deterred them from trying to start something I will no way in hell let them finish.  But it gives me joy in toying w/ them.   It gives me great joy to see how far I can make them go to get what they want, so I can tell them, to their face, “You’re not man enough for me!”

When Taking Charge Sucks

My past and recent fuck buddy is lame.  That’s putting it politely, and I hate to be polite about things like that.  He’s so … boring. So dull.  So every word in the thesaurus for yawn.   He’s a flash in the pan.  He’s a minute man.  A 3 pump chump.  If I’m that lucky.  And he tries to give me such flattery: “Your pussy just feels so good.”  Um, more like he just can’t control himself.  

I’ve learned the only way he can even last 5 minutes is if I take charge.   I hate taking charge.  Sometimes.  Ok, most times.  I like being able to be passive-aggressive *and* in charge w/ one person.  I like having the best of both worlds.  But I never get best of both worlds.   Not recently.   It’s been so humdrum for me, I’ve given up sex. 

Altho, it hasn’t stopped me from wishing for it.   I definitely can’t count on the 3 pump chump.  Even tho I’ve had a talk w/ him.  I told him I can’t stand that I have to wear only a black satin robe, undress him as soon as he walks in the door, and pretty much direct him from there.   And what sucks is, he’s almost strictly a missionary guy.  Even tho I’ve told him about that, too. 

Even tho he’s a minute man, I still wouldn’t have minded sex w/ him as long as it was frequent.  But we’d be sporatic, once every few months.   And it depended on him, because he’d be either too busy w/ his stupid friends or have a week/month long girlfriend.   And it was never during the week because he was too busy being a workaholic.   Honestly, how can a person have good sex if it’s not often? If it’s not longer than a minute?   I don’t know!

Now, during the past month, every Saturday night between 9:30 & 11:00pm, he’s called me.  I haven’t bothered to answer my phone.  I don’t know why he’s calling so much.  This isn’t like him; totally out of character.   Kinda makes me feel like he wants me … for something. 

He’s actually got me trained like Pavlov’s dog.  Every time he calls, I know it’s for sex.  It’s never for just regular friendly chit-chat, the way it use to be when we first started talking.   And I told him about that too.  And he says he’s trying to be gentlemanly and not be sexual.  But in the next breath, “Are you feeling naughty?”    Argh!!! 

Maybe I’d actually think about picking up the phone if he was adventurous. 

Stuck Between A Rock

And another rock…. And out of 9 hours of my life, I have…. HAVE …..to put up with it.  I’ve thought about trying to get out of it, but I have too many variables against me…. Mainly another she-devil-bitch who’s way too diagonal for my liking.

 Ok, so I did try to get out of it.  Didn’t happen.  I got laughed at.  Ok, well maybe smirked, but I don’t think she knows how to smirk properly.   But I sure as shit know someone else knows how to smirk, make snide remarks, and just be an overall bitch on baby wheels.   Ok, and so does the other rock.   But still.