Monday, December 26, 2011

....and they taste like wet toilet paper.

Jacob and I are official. As in, we actually do stuff in the daytime now. It's one thing to have a boyfriend, it's quite another to have somebody that wants to see your shit in the daytime, on the street, in a mall. He would do annnnything for me when he's drunk as fuck, but does he feel the same way sober? The girl with the Bartender sucking her boobs.

However, the world is my oyster, or more precisely the world is a cornucopia filled with aphrodisiac/sexxxytime magical vegetarian oysters that never expire because I am 21 and everybody loves 21yo girls.

Sooooooooo should I feel bad about that time I slept with the gm of xxxxxxxxxx, where by the WAY my fav female chef in all of vancouver is situated, in whistler, for no better reason than I was MODERATELY MOTHAFUCKING DRUNK. This was not even me making shitfaced decisions, I was simply in an emotional upheaval over world and personal events that are so far beyond my control. Whew.

It was amazing by the way.

I don't think I like having sexxxytime with Jacob anymore, maybe I am secretly still in that non slutty phase I was discussing earlier. Maybe his smell repulses me.

Perhaps I AM a hoe-bag and need to come to terms with this verifiable truth before the corrosive consequences of such a state of existing dissolves every good part of my life...

Who knows? Muahahahahah!

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

At Lolita's by Myself Eating the Fruits of my Sangria

Do I have a gem for you. Two pearls of wisdom gleaned from two wizened and pearly tooth gents at work: Stay meano to keep em keen, and someone always wears the pants, Love is not equal. So I would like to believe that with Jacob I wear the pants in regards to my affinity for the enigmatic and his curiously persistent nature. I don't want to be a dominant figure with Jacob though! he is so perfect and sweet that I would do anytimg for him to be so exquisitely infatuated with life forever. Which is clearly a submissite ideology right? But that makes me want to barf normally? Egads. But yea, no pants for me. I an emotionally incapacitated and clearly suck at debison making. So much so that I have already ripped these gosh forlorn metaphorical dry clean only trousers off, bareing my soul. leaving us to stare at each other awkwardly, both of our privates exposed to the elemental desires of the other. Christian tells me no love is equal though. which is obvious as Jacob's privates are ginormous, and at best I am a half hearted b cup. So what is actually happening between us?

The undisputed cockfaced douchiness of kids with beards and receding hairlines.

Have you ever hated someone before? I have a red hot poker hate on for someone at the moment. Usually, when I've been wronged I zen out and find understanding within myself and generally try and waste as little energy as possible on the offending individual. This time, shit is different. No zen, just rage. You see, tony has really outdone himself this time. He has proven that he is undoubtedly the most disgustingly old and decrepit human being in the entire land, inside and out. He live tweeted that I was defecating in his washroom. Paraphrasing here, but this is what I read as I awoke nonchalently , groggily in his bed, attempting to rouse myself with an invigorating perusal of the ol news feed. Nothing like hearing the girl you just humped taking a dump in your washroom. Jeeesusssss. 2hours ago. For fuck sakes at this point I was stiiiiil under his motherfucking sheets. He is laying, supposedly sleeeeping right beside me. He is absolutely dead meat. I would say my ability to withhold explosives that morning, such as diarreaha, rage, explosive blind rage violence, explosive swearing and cussing out, was a true testament to my innate nature as a cool cucumber. Because in that moment, I did not freak. I lounged, completely at my leisure. Got dressed, made tea, watched robo cop and 30 rock with him. I pretended to be just a rolling heap of good spirits, chuckling at liz lemon and her comparitively maneagble love entanglemnts. I took my time. And then the time came, I put on my jacket, gathered my belongings, carefully tousling my hair in one of his thousands of mirrors. I walk back to the bed, leering over him smiling the most hateful smile I have ever felt sprawled acrossbmy face. I gave his tummy a little tickle and he grinned, and wiggled a hit like a little puppy dog, eyes half closed. In his little boy bliss. And then I punched him in the stomach. I generally do not like hurting people, and the sound of pain he made as I made impact normally would have made me sick. Whimpering and rolling over,alone, in between his sheets he asks why I did that. I zip up my jacket and simply say your fucking facebook. In my usual sing song voice , I call goodbye to him from the front hall and let myself out. Now let us try and understand the actions of this erextile dysfuntion prone, senile old monkeys buttfaced man. ......... ..... Nope. He is an insecure, conniving, passive agreesive sack of damaged goods that needs to alienate himself from every girl he fucks because he is a misogynist fuck that has mummy issues. Back to me. The status was so woefully painful for two reasons. 1) I didn't even poo! I promise! In order to doooo that I need a calm and peaceful environment. Such as MY OWN BATHROOM. 2) annnnnd yes. Facebook. Can facebook be a shit free zone? Pleasaaase. And also old people. Why do I put myself through this, hairy wrinkly old person bodies with mean spirited one dimensional personalities. Barf.