On what planet is “Come over. And bring a condom.” an acceptable thing to say to someone you AREN’T currently fucking?

Or anyone at all even, if it isn’t a joke.  That was this guy’s fourth attempt, and fourth failed attempt, at making me a booty call.

The little shit upstairs won’t stop screaming.

Share your fucking toys you bitch.

Why would you go eight months avoiding your ex-girlfriend because you don’t want to face what you did

And then when she messages you giving a suggestion for a Christmas present for a mutual friend, reply and address a serious situation completely unrelated to the original post, then when she replies back don’t respond at all?

”___ has to ____ ____ from ____ in ____ after ____ every night and he ____ a ____. It’s a decent suggestion for a Christmas present since ____. Just letting you know.”

That’s all I said.  Nothing else.  Well I mean the blanks were filled in but that’s because the person the present is for is on tumblr.

“Thank you, I…don’t really know what to say other than thank you. How is it that you manage to still try and talk to me? Methinks I would have given up if I were in your shoes. Please don’t take that the wrong way; I simply find it strange that you would still even want to talk to me after everything I did to you.”

I replied telling him why (pretty much that I still care about him and all this other stuff).  Three days ago.  Eight months went by without contact (minus me messaging him about various matters, as we were a broken up couple and had things to take care of which he also avoided) and suddenly he says that.  And then when I answer his questions he decides he’s going to go back to avoiding me?  What the shit.  Now I’m just really antsy waiting for his reply, if he plans on sending one.

No homo.

>Coworker comes into fitting room to try on lingerie
>Accustomed to seeing people in lingerie
>Ask if she’s going to show it off
>Momentarily confused when she’s like, “WHAT NO”
>Assure her of expertise on lingerie
>Realize how awkward exchange is
>Feel like a creep the rest of the night

Here’s lookin’ at you, douche.

I’m tired of douche bags doing douche bag things because they feel inclined to be douche bags during the hour of the day that it’s the most douche baggy to be a douche bag.

For the sake of being a douche bag.

There was a puddle at my feet in my car today when I got in to go to work.

My car’s cloth top is leaking.  Washington’s wet season is shitty for people who own ‘98 sebring convertibles.  TOO MUCH RAIN.

^My car

So this girl at my work said she was going to a Christian concert and that if I don’t go I’m not actually a Christian.

Here’s how it went down.

I was taking over for her in the fitting room.  She said something about being really excited for a concert.  I asked her who it was for.

She was like, “Oh it’s a Christian singer, you probably wouldn’t know him.  His name is Steven Curtis Chapman”

I told her, “I know who that is… I’m a Christian.”

She said, “Then why aren’t you going?”

“I think I work… or no, I have Rocky.”

Then she went, “Yeah.  Christian.”  And she was actually seriously judging me based on my lack of attendance to this concert.

I hate people who try to make you feel guilty for worrying about your own problems when there are serious things you have no personal investment in.

I told this to a friend of mine because someone ELSE was talking about how people are concerned with small things when there are big serious problems in the world.  And the friend SERIOUSLY accused me of having no value of human life because I’m not spending every second of my time being concerned about the guy on death row in Georgia when THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.

Then when I said that if I had to choose one, and couldn’t have neither, I would rather an innocent person be executed than have a hundred serial killers go free and execute HUNDREDS of innocent persons, he freaked out and said that I wouldn’t say that if it was me being executed.  I told him I would probably still be saying it, but that I’m never going to be put in a situation where someone tells me that either I have to die for a crime I didn’t commit or a hundred Ted Bundys and Gary Ridgeways would go free.  He was extremely rude about it.

Lesson one: People are inherently selfish and their problems are more important to them than others because it’s a survival tactic.

Lesson two: Not being actively guilted by genocide or a controversial political issue doesn’t make you a bad person.  You can acknowledge it’s happening and take a second to feel horrible about it, not make tasteless jokes about it, but that’s really all you can do as a single civilian.  There’s no point in wasting away over something you realy have no control over that isn’t even a personal problem.  Do we get upset with other countries when they aren’t plastered to their tv’s wanting to find out who the new president of the United States is going to be?

Lesson three: Having no regard for life and being pro-life seem like opposing ideas.  Just because I have different political views than you pertaining to the death penalty does not give you the right to insult me like that and think you’re funny for it.  That’s just you being an asshole, it doesn’t make your views more ‘right’ than mine.  I could say the very same about you.  I just don’t because I’m not an asshole.  Asshole.

To the douche-bags who return jeans to the fitting room inside-out.

So remember that cute douche-bag I talked about before?

We’ll call him N.  So the other day we were supposed to hang out.  That morning I texted him and was like, “So fyi nothing significantly physical is gonna happen yet.”

He didn’t text back for the entire day.  I didn’t actually care all that much.

While I was at work I texted a lady friend of mine who works with the guy at jamba juice, saying I was gonna come visit her later.  When I got there she was all, “Lolololol I told N you were coming to visit once you got off work at seven-thirty and he was all, ‘I’m leaving early.’”  I haven’t heard from him since.

I think he’s avoiding me.

I think I upset him.

I lol’d.