as were most of us that grew up with that fuck'n hypnotize'n tigers roar in the 80's...turns out though that they weren't all that fuck'n grrrrreat after all...since i ended up gett'n 8 damn cavities from o.d'n on em and fall'n into a confectionery coma once a week durin' my tenderly traumatic teen years...you'd think i'da learn my lesson
when it comes to date'n a potential failure...that could very well turn into yer future failure...cuz let's be real here...you only really got'em on loan...since
well death is inevitable...so there's not really an effective how to handbook
on how to keep them in yer clutches ferever...doesn't matter whether yer...
some back comb'n...booze guzzle'n breeder...in daisy dukes too sizes too small...puff'n a 2 pack of Marlboro golds on a daily basis...shoot'n out bastard children in the trailer park like a lawn sprinkler...
or some highly pitched bitch that squeals like some blow monkey on meth...think'n they're the crem de'la'fem of the crop tops...but look more like a bloated blood sausage burst'n in their BVD's...constantly consume'n the spotlight on themselves...either case...we all have our rules when hunt'n fer that special fucktard to call our very own
i used to find that when i was search'n fer a potentially interested failure...
i preferred someone closer to the top of the food chain...that would to jump off a cliff...while chant'n my name when they would see me...
though personally...i find just simply wait'n fer 3 simple dates before we're both make monkey love like greased up yorkshire pigs at the county fair...much more sufficient these days...keep in mind though...this doesn't mean i wanna move in or get married by date #4 or anything like that...
i mean seriously kittens...i don't have a lifetime membership discount card to any local hardware store nor do i own any stock options at any move'n company...
i'll just leave that to the professionals
of course fer the purpose of this melodrama...most of my love life has been played out like any of Avril Levigne big hits...and eventually...unfortunately
just like the album...it's completely over...mind you though...just like anyone else's regrets...you just have'ta pick yerself back up and eventually move on to the next one without any regrets to start...or at least i do anyways...
i have never felt the need to rent a room in desperadoville...
nor did i ever practice my baton twirl'n in some pathetic pity parade charade just cuz society deems you used up and worn out at a certain age...nor do i subscribe to that tired "oh you'll find someone out there someday"
yes i agree when it's good...it's good...but let's get real here kittens...
it's way more fun to spend yer hard earned benjamins on the one person you know that'll really appreciate you fer you...and that is YOU!...without have'n to get permission from yer annoy'n pathetick half...half the time...and especially when you add other expensive shit buckets into the equation that have ruined yer waistline beyond belief and milk'd yer piggy bank dry just about every other week
i've done my fair share of charitable acts thru-out my love life...date'n from
thee socially retarded in my middle 30's...also known as my mister fister sister
and thee chemically dependent in my early 40's...also known as my manipulative methhead
after 3 decades of this...i didn't need to date any more judgemnental judy's
and decided it was time to rethink about me fer a change and dip back into the insane single lane...oh don't take that the wrong way...each and everyone of those frosted flakes of failure from my past...did mean somethin' to me at some point obviously since they were with me...and i'll admit...i do...albeit...hold a very small portion to the demise of it all
but just like a carton of eggs...they all had their expiration date once i was fried on them
so i figer'd it was time to save money on therapy and decided to pack up
those things that many refer to as "feelings" to the back of my limbic system of my cranium...hit the road and just pump and dump fer a while...safely...when needed of course
it would take me 2 years later before i decided it was time to clean my...
everyone knows when they think there's a possibility with a person of interest...you pull out yer rule book and just go from there...and this one seemed to fit my profile...he had the looks....charm...that wrinkled twinkle
in his eyes that made me wanna know more...i am a sucker fer a set of iris's (to keep his anonymity safe...i'll just use what he said what he was compared to before as a visual...and i'll say it's pretty close)...anyways...where was i?...oh yea...the only thing miss'n from him was the back handed sammich compliments or glassy eyes that i seem to mentally get attracted to...he was just way too nice...and dare i say "normal"...this was all new unfamiliar territory fer me...so we continued to have non verbal chatter via text fer a week or so til we would have an ACTUAL conversation...somethin' that most millennials can't comprehend
date #1 was at my palace...since he said he didn't have a tv yet at home...
so we watched one of my all time fav movies "MURIEL'S WEDDING" since he had never seen it before...and i could basically recite it word fer word at this point...but trust me Muriel..."i was not terrible"...i pondered whether or not to have this be the 1st movie since some might interpret it as a "sign" of panic or desperation...but 2 tears in the bucket...mutha fuck-it!
the alternative i'da rather watched was "TEXAS CHAINSAW: THE BEGINNING"...then i remembered 1st dates are all about give'n memorable impressions...and i didn't want him think'n i was some ax wield'n homocidal maniac wish'n he'd packed his can of mace...(well not yet anyways) or wish'n he'd gone with what was behind door number 2 instead
there was alot of saliva swapp'n and heavy pett'n at the conclusion of the
movie i can confirm...but no dignity was lost nor were any pearl necklaces made
by date #2...i was summoned to his palace...which luckily...was within my
drive'n radius...walk'n up to his perfectly sculptured yard...we talked more about this and that...that really was just the typical filler conversation on a 2nd date...and he was the perfect hostess too...he served me brown rice and tofu on a bed of lightly sea salted kale an exotic beer...and we talked alot more...and as the modular furniture faded into the nite sky...he started kiss'n me...like i hadn't been kissed in years (it's in my rules book under the chapter "slipp'n down the saliva slide too soon") then all of a sudden...off slid our dignity and i was oddly summoned by the faint sounds of Miss Bernhard...chant'n in the back of my head...while in his bed
"stop! do you have any rubbers? while yer at it...could you make it 2?...and i would feel just a little bit better if you would apply some spermicidal jams and jellies to the area"...i will not confirm or deny if any sorta broken rules of fornication that may or may not have happened at this point that nite...you just go ahead and fill in the blanks with yer own dirty lil thoughts
finally date #3 had finally arrived as planned...and he planned fer us to see
"FINDING DORY"...seriously "FINDING DORY"?...how about "find'n the closest porn shop or the closest treatment center"...cuz this is what i was used to with my past endeavors...though i can say with all honesty...i melted...but at the same time i'll be honest...a bit of an odd choice fer us at the tender and almost crusted old age of 45 without a whiny illegal lemonade worker molest'n our change purses dry...but then i remembered he was a full 24 hours older than me...so it was appropriate i suppose...
his hands were all over me like an octopus outta water the whole time...which i guess meant he was sorta into me...unless it was due to some sorta nervous tick disorder...either way...i'll admit it was nice...but again...this "NICE" thing...a lil outta my comfort zone
once the movie was over...it was back to his palace to walk his dogs...and as i felt more comfortable with him...i unfolded more parts of my past...but i noticed an instant change in his demeanor when i spoke briefly of my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe career...an all to familiar feel'n that flows like a flood of apparent flaws thru me...now mind you...as much as i was try'n on these new flirty slacks that i haven't put on fer some time...i was in NO WAY ready to call it quits with my single life or memorize the lyrics to "i do i do i do" by ABBA (even though i've practiced plenty of times durin' one of my many highway car concerts) but i just knew the storm was about to hit
once the dogs were back home...the nite was ended with that uncomfortable kiss you would give an elderly incontinent relative you haven't seen in ages...who fergot to put their choppers back in their mouth
well...at this point...i figer'd i had no need to spend my benjamins call'n...
Miss Cleo fer any future advice...the write'n was on the wall...and by late nite the follow'n day...i would receive that "it's not you...it's me" text...somethin' a spineless jelly fish would send...cuz you know...person to person is outta the ?...pretty much say'n nothin' i haven't heard before...which is why it didn't shock me much at all...plus i'm not gonna waste my time try'n to decipher whether he may or may not have meant somethin' else via his text...
so to save face of course...i would respond with the stale mate refried crap on toast response "yea...friends are fine" text...which is what i thought that's all we were to begin with anyways...though realistically we both know it'll never come to that in the end
i seriously hold no ill will towards him at all...cuz he really is a sweet guy
and as per Avril...he to would make it into a sweet song...but sweets cause cavities...and who needs another mental dental bill?...i could say i certainly hope he finds what he's look'n for...but why?
i have absolutely no regrets with anyone i've ever fancied thus far in my life
i'll just file this whole experience under "don't distress"...
just get off my dress!
