comment no more

Fruit Stripes Gum! You fools are out of control. No wait, just out. There will be no more personality tests on this site. I expell you. Shit's re-fucking-dick-you-lass. I hate. Comments bigger than blog? More brutal? That's the last thing I want. I get the last word in. I'll walk away from this, so help me God, if you keep frightening the others. There are better things to write about. Other places. I know it.

But for now...

Girl troubles continue in carsonation. I wish I was Jay-Z. I wish that a bitch wasn't one of my 99 problems. But I'm going to have to go ahead and say that what keeps me up at night, the last two anyway is two particular bitches. And since they probably don't read this, I'll write about them.

Thought I found a cute one. Maybe not the One. But an one. OK. So I met her at a party. She reminded me of that. Funny thing about memory. I remember her by her tatoo. And maybe I've told you this before, when I saw it, our conversation came back to me. So we meet again. And again. It's our third date and we're in my bed. She says she wants to be honest. I remind her that in bed we are supposed to lie. She tells the truth anyway.

There's another guy, she says. He knows about you and doesn't have a problem with it.

If there was ever a mood killer, a turn off, a time when I wish she'd keep comments like that to herself, it was then. I couldn't go forth. And called it a night. She wanted more. Wanted to me to say that nothing changes. Can't, I say, not my way. I don't play that game. And suddenly I'm synical. So be it.

I must have failed sharing in kindercare.

Same night, I shit you not, I get a call that I shouldn't have answered. At 2:15 in the morning with a former showing herself on caller ID, it's best not to answer. Little lesson for the kids there.

Surprise, she's dunk.

I'm not going to share all the details. It wouldn't be right. You wouldn't get it, anyway. But, I'll tell you one thing said. One thing that kept me in bed the next two hours without a wink of sleep. One thing that got me to work on time but with heavy eyes. And it was this:

You hate me because I don't love you.

When I get mad -- and I don't hate -- I just turn sad.

4 comments :

TradingCourses said...

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One of my bosses took me on an emotional roller-coaster the other day. "You know, Jay, I've been reading that blog you write for." "Um... great.
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Crazy sheep running said...

My apoligies for disapppointing. Will try not to cross the line again. No promises if provoked.

Bad night. Sounds like you need a fresh start. Since moving probably isn't in the cards, maybe a rap career would help. Worked for Eminem, why not you?

Jed said...

I would like to respectfully request that from this day forward we refer to these problem girls not as bitches, hoes, sluts, or any other derrogitory name, but rather use specific adjectives like "deceitful", "lying" or "conniving." The flip side is also true..."caring, sharing and communicative," are all acceptable terms. I just got out of a presentation to a bunch of high school students on intimate partner violence and how it is perpetuated by these derrogitory words. On the spectrum of violence, while name calling ranks low and is seemingly harmless, it escalates to more serious problems. Also not acceptable: construction workers whistling at women in short skirts, beefcakes plying young women with alcohol, and wrestling coaches calling their athletes "pussies" to motivate them. None of us are above this so let's not sink down to that level.

That said, I will now post my final comments to the Crazy Sheep, who unfairly attacked me in the last post: You were not provoked, for it was you who first called me a "trekkie." Admittedly, we are both responsible for the escalation thereafter.

You seem to know more about me than I thought. Congratulations. Where you came across some of this knowledge, I can only guess, and honestly have no clue, especially since you refuse to reveal your true identity. Anonymity has no honor in this forum. My advice to you is to be careful not to betray the confidence in which that information was entrusted to you. I may have attended a less than elite university in a part of the country that values fundamentalist Christianity over logic and constitutionality, one that relies on agriculture rather than technology, and one that is as sophisticated as you might expect from a county fair. So be it. We all choose our paths. The line between what you think you know and reality is perhaps thicker than you think, however. And by the way, in my opinion, a walrus be the next step up the evolutionary chain, rather than the moose.

And with that, Carson, you may boot me, or you may quit posting, I would prefer neither. Carry on.

Crazy sheep running said...

Jed - Don't confuse knowledge with a lucky guess or two. You ever see a palm reader or some huckster who claims to speak to the dead? Notice how if they talk enough that they get a tiny fact right and because the person they are talking to is listening for that tiny fact because they want to believe that it is related to something bigger? The huckster never knew anything about the person, they just talked alot. Same thing here. The sheep knows nothing about you, you just gave the sheep enough details to work with

My apologies for offending or hitting a nerve.