Fucks, Shits, Tits and Assholes

Okay, so this is long overdue and I hadn't had much time or motivation to edit the pile of shit below. To be honest, I still don't so if it sucks, sorry. I promise to try harder next time.
Maybe
Sorta
Kinda
Fuck! Who am I kidding, probably not

The below was supposed to be sort of a response to Mr. T and the post I made last week that I titled 'Shitty Pickles' in which I attempted to blog rape what I thought to be an epic online dating douchebag. Not sure if it makes sense but regardless please know that this is a direct result of mixing THC, NyQuil, Gravol, Tylenol 3 and the occasional Clorazepam.

I felt a little tinge of guilt when I talked to the BFF the other night. She read my blog post to Mr. T and seemed pretty charged as a result. Comments like “OMG, he better have good medical insurance to cover the intense therapy and high dosages of Paxil and Ativan” and “Hope he doesn’t have access to rope and rafters” flew from her mouth. On first impression one might get the sense that I’m a tad cruel but if given the chance and if the reader pushes on, I’m hoping he/she realizes that behind all the fucks, shits, tits and assholes, I actually do give a shit. You are right Mr. T, I was defending my BFF. I found myself going back to that charming email of yours which she forwarded to me, and getting all the more fucking pissed after each reading. Thing is, I was under extreme duress from lack of sleep and several bouts of emotional volatility since I was nearing the tail end of a merciless PMS cycle. Although my initial intent was to defend my awesome friends awesomeness and beat the bad dude down for shoving this exceptional woman into the proverbial pile of negative icky picky, rode hard and put away wet, hopeless gals, my own agenda kinda sorta ummm crept in. Not how you might think though, the brutal truth is that I just needed something to write about! I hadn’t come across anything that got my blood flowing and then she forwarded that email and WHAMMO BLAMO I found myself writing. So do y’all feel dirty and used now? No need to thank me all you closet masochists, this one is a freebie.
And now I’m sitting here staring at my Macbook, brutally aware of the difficulty I’m having describing my thoughts of the comments made here over the last couple days. I’ve always found it easy to fly off on my fucking tirades and although I’ve had my spells of ‘block’, I have never had difficulty expressing myself when the urge arose, until now. So Mr. T, consider this one of those rare occasions of almost miracle proportions and fucking milk this shit for everything it’s worth because ya kinda earned it ;). Among the occasional written blooper I am painfully aware of one obvious mistake I had made and that is, I underestimated you. Pretty bad fuck up considering I thrashed you for doing exactly that; making assumptions and not giving the TBOTD. I can honestly say that I in no way expected the response you put here and I was pleasantly surprised. This online thing is a real fucker ain’t it? I’ve sat here over the years and battled the ‘social network’ life and bared the constant conflict within me and the impact this technological social forum had on all of us. I fucking love the WWW, I really do! So many possibilities at my disposal just waiting for my fingers to hit the right keys, read the right articles, connect with the right guy, friends and facebook, online dating, news, ideas, creative outlets galore were all so easily attained. Almost instantly you could be transported to the street view of that ex boyfriends house and wondering who owned that silver Honda Accord in his driveway or Photoshop tweaking that one photo from the office Christmas party two years ago because that’s when I looked the thinnest. Thing is, then why am I so starved for REAL social interactions? Well, because this online stuff has gotten tired, that’s why. Laziness and choosing the easier path has made us all into self absorbed pussies who just don’t feel the need to invest or try and I fucking HATE THAT! I’m starving because I’m not fucking trying! I whine about not being swept off my feet but I know damn well why that’s not happening in the first place. The brutal truth, I won’t get that awesome life altering payout if I don’t put myself on the line. I suppose none of us really appreciate stuff if it comes too easy. The dating scene, people, the other half, are they really so different from me? They must want what I want! They must crave that emotional connection, they MUST! How fucking seriously egotistical for me to think I’m an exception. This goes beyond getting ones rocks off. We all can get our fuck on if we really wanted. Yeah, yeah guys, I know you’re shouting at the screen now saying “Maybe it's easy for chicks, but not guys.!” But if that urge rears it’s naughty little head and you need that release, a rub and tug or a drive downtown on those special streets can stir up someone to scratch that itch. “I don’t do that shit” you say? Okay, but at least you know it is an option and that provides some comfort right? Yikes, STOP FUCKING YELLING ALREADY SHEESH!!! I’m sensing a few ‘yeah buts’ bouncing around in your head? I dunno, pffffttt just a hunch. The fact remains, if we want to get our fuck on, we could make it happen. It might not be with Megan Fox and you’ll have to settle for a bootie call with the ex and her stalking you for the next 3 months afterwards before she finally got the hint, but it’s a fucking nonetheless. It’s that meaningful connection that’s much more difficult to come by and something I think we all crave.

And lately it seems more likely that I discover Sasquatch and we’d hang in his stud cave eating toasted bunny and communicating by grunts and hand signals. There I go whining again, it’s terribly unattractive isn’t it!
I’m really not pleased with myself at the moment knowing that just a little while ago my train of thought was that I was an exception and I was not a sheep, yet now I feel like constantly baaing and have a serious hankering for alfalfa (Is baaing a word? Pffft). If you could see the look on my face at this very moment, you’d see a squinty gal with unbrushed hair and a ‘I just ran over a raccoon’ vacant expression. At the risk of sounding AFTERSCHOOLSPECIALLY, I guess we all learned something here and that’s that we’re not so different after all. We just get tired of fighting the good fight and that sourness, jaded, bitter, whatever you want to call it negative cloud starts hovering over our heads and bringing with it a darkness that turns all the shit around us icky shades of grey, we all just need to look up and decide on a direction to make that leap of faith and try landing onto a brighter spot of happy happy and I’m okayness. I need to keep fucking jumping and not stay under this shitty cloud too long or I risk vitamin D deficiency and I just won’t bother looking up anymore. Fucking clouds! Fucking Radiohead soundtracked clouds! Start fucken leap’n people. Leap like your life depends on it. And if you get tired or need a minute to catch your breath, just let me know and I’ll do my best to send good karma bionics your way or just thrash you till you get pissed and fight back. Either way the result is the same, I would just enjoy the latter a heck of a lot more.
Holy fuckamoley, that was the most sappy piece of shit I have ever written I think I broke something in my brain or maybe I have a fever? I bet it’s a fever! Nothing the magic pipe can’t handle so don’t you worry your handsome big heads :P So when did I turn into this huge pile of sentimental gloopy mush? The tail end of PMS is fucking pathetic and I nauseate myself in spite of it. I’m so going to regret this later when I’m my good ole BitchMuthaFuckrStupidPeopleHate’nOpinionatedFortySomethingCynicalCougar self. I suddenly have the urge to kick puppies or something. Quick!!!! SOMEONE BRING ME A GODDAMN PUPPY!

Insert adorable puppy picture right here.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww eh? Shaddup ya sap! I’m kicking him right this second so THERE! Teeheehee, the thought of someone getting all bent that I enjoy kicking puppies in my spare time still makes me smile but the smile is much more solid now that I have confirmation of the existence of some seriously special cool peeps out there in WWW land that know otherwise and that they don’t think twice when giving me TBOTD.