Phew! A whirlwind week of dating & mating has flown by in a flash…5 men, 6 dates, 7 days: who’s complaining?
Not I. Gimme some more! Misbehaving makes me tick.
A short lived attempt at exclusivity with someone who it seems is not so special ended up boring the pants off me. Bah. In retrospect, I’m glad to say that I didn’t try to hard to behave myself. We spent last Friday night together & the conversation over dinner was pretty sickening. Said he wants to fuck off across the pond, buy himself a young middle eastern wife & have kids with her. Boom.
Misogynistic motherfucker. I have the perfect Valentine’s card for him. The front of the card reads: “you’re just my type”. The words have been typed on a page coming out of a typewriter. Inside I shall write: “NOT!” Ooooh, hell hath no fury……
When it comes to the crunch, I’ll probably cave & write something unsuitably romantic instead but, hey, it’s the thought that counts. Definitely not my type, if I had a type.
Neither was last night’s conquest my type, as it turned out. ‘Twas the occasion of our second date & he suggested we get a room. Bingo, I was absolutely up for it. So we consummated our friendship a few times over a few glasses of vino in the Hotel St. George. When morning rolled around, I simply wasn’t feeling it. Apparently neither was he. He lay beside me in the bed scratching like a monkey. Ugh. Next!
Next up is another round with the misogynistic motherfucker tomorrow night…may he redeem himself! My expectations are low so I’m not likely to be disappointed. Watch this space……
Faith In The Ripple Effect 