My friends and mostly co-workers tease me about my constant search for a cute man pet to hang out with, but my immediate boredom & inability to deal with any sort of bullshit for more than five minutes prevent me from dating any of them for more than a few weeks and then instantaneous return to falling in pretend love with every other bartender or drummer I meet. Because they do the things they are good at: drinking, music and uh, other things and DON'T HAVE TIME TO DO THINGS THEY FAIL AT, like, relationships....perfect match.
According to Marky Mark, this is my theme song.
But then I try again. Maybe an older man will work this time I say. He has money and knows how to function as a real human being I say. He invites me to a "Burning Man Pink Pussy Cat Party," and I run away. There was also a scary text message involving a radiator and another involving death (in a non-threatening way, I'm being vague on purpose!), so yeah, I ran the FUCK away. I mean, it's not like I actually saw him since we met months ago, so I'm sure his feelings weren't hurt too much.
Ew, and he was old. Remember that FACTOID!?
Try one more time. Hang out with the cute boy you met at the bar a year ago, it will be fun you think! It was fun the last time and it was this time too! Wow, weird! Meeting a nice boy at a bar! He says nice things and for once you actually think they are nice and don't tell him to choke on his own dick, like most conversations in your world usually end up. But then you run into him a few weeks later after many, many failed attempts to hang out and he ignores you. Your tattoos don't make you cute enough to ignore me, dick!
OR what about the cute boys that invite you and Princess LoLo to come watch the Giants game?! SO adorable. Get good reviews from your trusted pal. But then one shows up wearing ...wait for it...
WHITE ED HARDY SWEAT PANTS.
ED HARDY SWEAT PANTS WITH "ED HARDY" ACROSS THE ASS.
But anyway, yes, I realize I am incapable of putting in any sort of effort into maintaining a normal relationship primarily because I am lazy and self involved and apparently am actually kinda scary (see: "choke on your own dick" comment), but it is reasons like ^all^of^the^above^ that I am the waaaaay I are...I'm just a 90's BITCH and you all bore me.
HOLD UP. Then you hang the fuck out at a magical bar, where all of the wonderful Jewish boys of NYC with black cards and perfect teeth congregate. That restores your faith in humanity for a few cigarettes.
Thank you, Kaballah Monster.
XXO.
BIIIIIIIII!
No comments:
Post a Comment