Quote of the day

Up for discussion. About hot chicks:

"People call us sluts because, being ugly, they have no idea how difficult it is to resist fucking good-looking people."

Credit Xiaxue.

The Call That Never Comes

We've all been there. Somebody says they'll call you. They may give a specific time, or just a range of time in which to expect this call.
This call could be from anybody. It could be a boy or girl you like, it could be your heterosexual life partner, it could be person you're waiting to interview. All of these are hard to wait for, but those ones when it's a person you'd like to date, or fuck, or whatever, seem to be the hardest.
So you wait. You may keep your phone glued to your hand, afraid that leaving it for one minute could result in "1 missed call" written across your cell screen.
It's nice if you're busy and you don't have to think about the call that is not coming.
It's harder when you're not as busy and you sit there and wait. The seconds tick by. They turn in to minutes, then hours.
Sometimes the call comes. You think to yourself, "Why was I even wasting time wondering if my phone would ever ring?"
Sometimes the phone never rings. A million things might run through your head.
"Why didn't they call?"
"Is something wrong and they couldn't call me? Should I be worried?"
"Did they do this on purpose?"
"Do they know that I am waiting?!?!?!"
It never matters. We'll never know the real reasons that people choose not to call back.
It's probably not because you asked them on a date to drink water.
It's more likely that this is just a part of life. People forget to return calls.
Maybe they just forgot.
Maybe they didn't feel like talking on the phone last night.
We've all been there.

How To Get A Guy To For Sure Not Call You Back

Leave this message:

"Hi. Um, I don't normally do this, but I just really enjoyed our conversation and meeting you the other day, so I was wondering if maybe you'd ever want to go out for a drink. Or if you don't drink, for coffee or if you don't like coffee, maybe tea or water. I like water. So um, yeah, call me back, er whatever. Or not. Uh, whatever's cool. K, have a good day. Talk to you soon, maybe."


Yeah. I like water. I said it. Fucking whatever. He's the weirdo for not liking water.

I Can't Believe She Farted.

We had the drinks and the heart to heart. We laughed. Our thighs touched under the table. Our gaze went uninterrupted. I made an awkward comment about cunnilingus and it got weird for a second, but I recovered. We even had the STD inquiry. I'm horny (what's new) and I have a boner (again, nothing new.) It's 1:30 am.

We head to her friend's boyfriend's apartment.

I turn on XBox 360 and throw in "Blow." George Jung is a badass. An imprisoned badass but a badass nonetheless. I stumble back to the couch. I'm buzzed. 5 out of 10. I think about what's to come. I open another beer and picture my accomplice as a stewardess. George must have gotten hella pussy. It's 2:35 am.

We touch. I feel guilty about being on her friend's boyfriend's couch buttass naked and then I touch her boob. My worries disappear. I'm still concerned about my man-sweat (and worse) getting on her friend's boyfriend's couch, but whatever. I mean, boobs, right? It's 4:35 am.

Catch the math? We've been fooling around for 3 solid hours. I already selected "Play Movie" again. I am now hearing Johnny Depp's character deteriorate rapidly for a second time in the last 180 minutes. His life is not nearly as badass the second time around. It sounds like it sucked actually. It sounds like my night feels.

While I enjoy fooling around as much as the next guy, I don't enjoy 3 hours of it at 5:35 am. My weiner is sore. I'm tired. I'm either gonna cum or just pass out. I don't get a chance to do either.

My arms are falling asleep so I reposition myself. I know what you're thinking and yes, I'm licking her labia. I am tantalizing her taint. I am rummaging her rim. She farts. Like man farts. Like "PLOOMF" in my face.

I'm not grossed out. Not yet. No, I'm straight up offended. A fucking fart? Really? In my face?

She apologizes. She looks me in the eyes, the same eyes she just farted into and says she's sorry. This did not help.

It's too late. I think my penis has actually burrowed into my own stomach out of repulsion. It's over. The night was done.

I made a snide comment about her needing to wear more deodorant. (She actually smelled great...my feelings were hurt) I get dressed, grab my shoes and leave.

The next day her Facebook status read "Sometimes it happens." I messaged her "sometimes I masturbate while listening to Prince and I kept that from happening last night...what's your excuse?" She didn't reply.

I have a feeling things are over between us.