Thursday, March 11, 2010

Ass From the Past.

Tim called me about a week ago, out of the clear blue sky. Infact, I actually didn't even have his number programmed in my phone anymore, nor did I recognize it when it popped up on the screen. I suppose that's a good thing, considering I knew that number so well I could call him even if I was in a coma. He was just calling to say, Hi, and wanted to know how I was doing and blah blah blah. He's doing fine and he and his Unit are getting sent to _____ in a few weeks and he doesn't know how long he'll be there and yes he is one of those people that just goes on and on and the only way to demonstrate such a fine character trait is to write it as a run-on sentence and he'd really like to see me before he goes away because he really really misses me and like he said before he doesn't know how --------.

DUDE, JUST SAY IT.

You want to get laid. Fine. Whatever. I'm game. To his credit I will say he is an amazing fuck. Two-thumbs way, way up.

But don't feed me some bullshit about how you actually care about me and miss me and all that other shit that you don't really mean. I'm not about to remove you from my major asshole shelf and put you back onto my well maybe he's not such a bad guy shelf. He was on my I want to marry this guy shelf, but lost that spot when he called me a fat whore and told me that he didn't want to date me anymore because he didn't want to date anyone and then proceeded to have five girlfriends right after. Oh, but he made room to fuck me in between each girlfriend, so I suppose I shouldn't feel to unwanted.

Will I meet up with him? Like I said before, fine. I'm game. I haven't gotten laid, if you don't count my glow in the dark vibrator, in about 2 months. And seeing as how he'll be leaving shortly, there's no real danger of me starting to fall for him again.

And that's all I have to say about that.

No comments:

Post a Comment