Tag Archives: satire

Worst date ever doesn’t begin to describe it.

25 May

I do not recommend meeting people online.  You can go back and read some of my older posts about the freaks I’ve talked to, but the experience I am about to share with you now, is by far the worst.

A guy messaged me and his picture was quite impressive.  He looked like Tim Tebow, so we shall call him Tim.  I was intrigued.  We had the normal starter conversation and decided to meet at TGI Fridays parking lot because its a public place and convenient for both of us.

As I’m finishing getting dressed Tim texts me and asks if I’m actually as pretty as my pictures.  I replied “what are you going to do if I’m not?”.   He answered that he would simply say nothing and just walk away.  Wow. I’m already turned off, but at this point I am hungry and dressed to go.

I pull into the parking lot and I see him sitting on the tailgate of his blue truck.  It was nothing special but still a decent vehicle. I get out of my car. I’m pretty nervous and Tim walks up to me and introduces himself.  I guess I do look like my pictures.  He also looks like his pictures, and is well dressed and nicely groomed. We plan on going to a nice outdoor mall to do some window shopping and grab some dinner.  I ask him if he wants to drive and he says his truck isn’t running properly. He thinks he ran through a really deep puddle?  I ask him how he got he got here. He points to the apartments just behind the parking lot and says he lives there.  Whatever. I’m more comfortable being behind the wheel anyway.

We get into my car and he tells me I look innocent.

Weird.

He says “oh, I brought you something” and proceeds to pull candy out of his back pocket. Not just any candy.  Can you guess what kind of candy? No, you can’t.  Because you would probably never fucking guess that it was Fun Dip. Yes, FUN DIP, PEOPLE!

fundip

Because that’s just what I want, candy that he SAT ON.  Plus, I am a fucking adult.  I do not eat packets of sugar with a fucking stick that you suck. I don’t eat candy that turns my mouth all different colors of the rainbow.  I don’t want to suck on a sugar stick that was broken by the weight of his ass.

But, I am a polite person, so I say thank you and toss it in the backseat. We are on the road now.  Tim begins telling me how he used to sing country.  He searches his myspace page on his phone and makes me listen to multiple songs. I’m thinking, great, he is one of those.  I am not impressed and kind of annoyed.  He is no Johnny Cash. I ask him if he has facebook. He says he doesn’t because it was too much drama. That’s not strange at all.

We finally arrive and decide to go eat first.  We agreed on Buffalo Wild Wings.  We both order beers. We get on the subject of jobs.  He reveals that he is no longer employed because he crashed the company car.  He laughs about it.  So as of right now, he is a candy sitting-failed musician-broken truck having-unemployed-but good looking guy.  This is not what I had in mind.  The waitress asks me if I would like another beer.  I say “you know, I think we’re going to need a pitcher.”  Little did I know, things were going to get worse.

The subject of his living arrangements came up again.  He shares that he has a female room mate.  She is morbidly obese and in love with him. He also doesn’t have his own room.  He sleeps in the living room on the couch. Because he is couch surfing. Tim is basically homeless.  I am on a date with a homeless man.

We finish dinner and I pick up the check, because, well, I have a home.

I try to tune out his words and focus on his beauty. Despite all of his strike outs, he was very nice. But nice isn’t cutting it. Because things are still going to get worse.

We are driving home and he is talking about how psycho his “room mate” is.  Okay, dude, she isn’t your room mate. You don’t pay rent. She is letting you stay there out of crazy lust. She obviously has just as many issues as you do. Let’s call it what it is, you are having a slumber party with your stalker.

I am curious as to why he doesn’t try to stay with a family member.  He claims that his Mom doesn’t have room in her house because his sisters children live there.  They get wild and he can’t handle it.  Why isn’t his sister taking care of the children, you ask? Well, it’s because she is a crack head. And the multiple children are also crack babies. HIS WORDS. This is his flesh and blood that he is calling crack babies. I don’t know the medical term for it but I’m sure there is one, and it has to be a lot less derogatory.  I know Doctors aren’t delivering newborns saying “Congratulations! You’re a proud mother of a sick crack baby!”

This just is not normal.

And I want to remind you, that this is the same guy who said he would walk away from me if I was not up to his physical standards.

The worst is yet to come.

I’m dropping him back off in front of his apartment where he says “I’d invite you in, but my room mate gets really jealous.”  Then he asks me if I kiss on the first date. I say no and he replies “I knew you were the innocent type.”

Gross.

I go home and my mind is reeling from the craziness.  For whatever reason, I have the urge to look him up on facebook, undeterred by the fact that he said he did not have one.

Lo and behold, his face comes up.  I’m thinking, that’s a weird picture. Oh, right, because it is a fucking mugshot.  It is his mugshot as the profile picture, on a HATE PAGE on facebook. What I see blows my mind. It must be some ex that really hates him and is trying to ruin his life. Although, his life is already in shambles.

I search for his public records and to my disbelif, it is true. He was fucking arrested for a sex offense with a victim between the ages of 12 and 15. Holy shit. I messaged the facebook page asking for more information and they replied almost immediately saying multiple girls had come forward between the ages of 11 and 14.  The case is ongoing.

Even if he is somehow innocent, there was enough evidence to bring him into custody!  Innocent until proven guilty, I know. But any way you look at it, he was doing something he shouldn’t have.  I begin having mental flashbacks of the comments on how innocent I seem and the kids candy.  I am nauseous.

He messages me the following day asking when we can hang out again.  I could only think of one thing to say.

“I saw your mugshot.  I wish you were here. Just so you could watch me walk away.”

He messages me close to a year later.  He says his charges were dropped and was hoping to have a second chance with me.

No.

It looks like his charges were dropped from sex offender to felony battery.

I would rather die alone.

 

 

 

 

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Chocolates go on Sale tomorrow!!

14 Feb

Happy Valentines Day!

Love,  the bitchy truth

I am my own Bitch. Game on.

10 Feb

Have you ever gotten too close to a person too quickly, only to realize that they are a psycho, boy-crazed, desperate for attention, bring-you-down coffin of depression? I have. The question for me is, am I ready to call her a deleted scene? I am not sure I am ready to call it quits after all the time I’ve spent training her (that’s another entry). After all, every educated bitch knows to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But even I have my limits. She has the incredible ability to suck the life right out of you while still portraying the victim. Its uncanny, and I always give credit where credit is due. She absolutely deserves an award for the ability to stick her head so far up her inflated ass that she actually believes her own misconstrued bullshit.

I may be a bitch but I still consider myself a rational person. So, is it possible the problem is that she is better at being a bitch than I am? Has she discovered an entire new dimension of bitch?

No, it can’t be. She’s not that smart.

I think her problem is that she’s evil. Just like there is white magic and black magic; the good bitch and the evil bitch also exist. Like white magic, I only use my gift of bitchiness for good. My sarcasm is like a ray of light shining through a dark cloud. It was even rumored that it had the ability to make a tree smile. It’s common sense that when I tell a friend her gown reminds me of the one my grandma had to wear in the hospital, it’s not because I want to hurt her feelings. It’s because I take the red carpet everywhere I go and I can’t afford to be seen with someone who raided Helen Keller’s closet. I have her best interest at heart.

The evil bitch, on the other hand, is manipulative, unrelenting, and morose. You won’t realize it at first. Even good bitches get duped on occasion. Sooner than later though, you will realize the evil bitch’s goal in life is to make you as miserable and alone as she is. And be forewarned, being the good bitch that you are, you will have the instinctual urge to help this wretched broad. But let it be known, they can not be helped. The evil bitch’s determination to bring you down can’t be destroyed.

And I for one have put up with it for too long. I guess I answered my question… but we will see when I decide to pull the trigger. Maybe she can come back for a guest appearance. But for now, I’d say her goose is cooked. and loose. Because that girl couldn’t keep her legs closed if you broke them and tied them together.

Since I once considered this hot mess a friend, I’m going to do my best to let her down easy. Which shouldn’t be an issue because I’ve heard she goes down easy.

I feel like I’ve put forth as much effort as I can to make this relationship work. It’s like a long break up. Where we are constantly on and off again. That’s not the kind of relationship I’m looking for. We should have just stayed broken up the first time. I wanted it to work. I really did. But sometimes it’s just not meant to be.

Translation:

I’m done being your bitch in this relationship. It’s reminds me of an ugly divorce. You are constantly whining and I am tired of you bringing me down. I deserve better than that. You were always a mistake. I wanted it to work. I really did. But then I realized you’re an evil bitch.

Or maybe I should make things interesting?

The evil bitch made it a competition.

I’m going to make it a good one.

Get on the Bitch Train.

9 Feb

image

I’ve never been fond of introductions. It must be the awkward handshake soon followed by forced conversation. Honestly, I just met you and unless you hold future boyfriend potential, I won’t waste much of my time getting to know you. Some may call it shallow, but I prefer to think of it as good time management.

But everyone needs friends, right? Life without friends is like life without sarcasm. Why bother? But, as it says in the name I’m here to tell the truth even if it makes me a bitch. There are times when I just can’t seem to handle all of my friends pulling me in every different direction. Even after moving to a new place I already feel as though I am at friend capacity. So when some unintelligent life form tries to befriend me, you can bet I try to cut right to the chase. I won’t be flat out mean to the little freak, but it won’t take a genius to realize they bombed their first audition so badly that if my life were a movie I wouldn’t even hire them as a background actor.

Every once in awhile I come across a trouble making douche that somehow managed to fool me into thinking they earned a role in my life. However, it’s not long before that gravy train comes to a screeching halt. They are what I like to refer to as a deleted scene. And as soon as they commit whatever heinous act that reveals their true colors, I’ve got 10 more understudies just waiting for their chance at stardom. That’s where I like to utilize my Friend Wait List. The wait list consists of people I want to socialize with but simply don’t have the time for due to my friend capacity. You’re probably thinking that I am completely immoral and have total disregard for peoples feelings. Yeah, I get it. They are humans with real emotions! Let’s get one thing clear, I treat my friends with the utmost respect and devotion. That is why I had to develop such a unique system. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to use it. I doubt you ever reach friend capacity, anyway.

And, of course, we can’t forget my costars. These are the friends that have been around the longest and are basically royalty in my book. They’re the ones almost as bitchy as me and always have my back. Sequels will flop without their characters.

So, for those of you looking to reach friend capacity, I’ve found that the best way to make new friends is to get a hobby. I chose drinking. I can assure you I have done plenty of research. Some of my costars can all be traced back to our first drunk encounter. Although, after boarding the crazy train with a nonstop ticket to Drunky Town, I found myself somewhat embarrassed in the morning. I didn’t want my new friend to know I was that much of a train wreck so soon. But no worries! Time and time again, they keep coming back for more. There is just something about peeing in a parking lot together that really creates a bonding experience.

So, drink up bitches! I have a feeling we are going to be great friends.