Thursday, November 29, 2007

Calgon take me away

I just saw this photo of a woman with her head in her hands staring rather stoically at the camera. She said that she doesn't smile in photos because she's Eastern European and a former matter of fact she was. That's me tonight. This week. Fuck....Calgon take me a away.  Right now I should be thrilled that I pretty much hugged in a super flirty way two way hot chicks. Like all of a sudden my office is filled with smokin' hot amazons. One is my usual green eyed blonde leggy human computer smart deliciousness. The other is like a flan. The richest her skin will get is like a carmelized sugar brown. At its palest it's an eggy brown. Ol' girl is like 6' of easy breezy cover girl, but she wasn't born with is in fact Maybelline. She reveals nothing. It's sick. I love it. Needless to say, I barely remember hugging the other chick.

We had this really insane fight today about all manner of shit that I could give a flying fuck about. Well some of it was important, but the content of the devolving conversation was weighted like a motherfucker. I liked that we got into it. I hate it that I seized up like a fucking maniac, but I saw something other than the usual bullshit.

You would think that I'd be loving life right now. I just got a sweet raise. I made some more inroads with Kennedy. Me and Katie talk almost everyday. I'm happy. I don't know what else to say. Shit's good.

But this chick. She brings out the chase in me. As much as I love that sensation, I hate it twice as much if the chase comes out, but there's nothing to show for it. Katie says it'll happen. We'll see. I mean if I had to do a tally thus far of precisely what has gone down she is definately not indifferent to me. On the other hand, we've been shitfaced during each encounter. Wednesday night was an anomaly. An anomaly that we just plain haven't talked about. I fucking hate that shit.

I don't need to be in the office past 2pm. Period.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Christ on the cross

Jesus Herbert fucking Christ! This strumpet is completely insane. Which strumpet, the internet inquires.....the Side Show Bob strumpet that's who! Two nights ago we got drunk and she ate apple bits off of my tits in front of our goddamn coworkers. Let's see what else...she sucked on my fingers and vice versa. All very hot, all very much a strange twist of events considering the post it and the ensuing email where she called me perpetually immature and passive aggressive. As is her wont the next day she called blaming the whole thing on the pitchers of sangria. Fucking spare me! Don't blame the booze for sucking on my fucking tit, you stupid drunk slut of a human being. Alcohol might be a dissociative drug, but that does not excuse her behaviour. If you're not interested fucking behave responsibly. Ofcourse I'm still hot for her. Why even ask? Needless to say, next week when I go back to work I'm going to have to pretend like she's office furniture. That's annoying. It's annoying because I thought something had changed. Oh, how wrong I was. More on this later. Dinner beckons.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Broken Hearts Are For Assholes

Oh good Christ!

So guess who got a fucking post it note rejection sticky? That's right. Yours truly. Am I upset at being shot down. Sure. Am I livid at the post it note method. Um...oh my my oh hell yes! And frankly, Side Show Bob had ample opportunity to say "You're very sweet. I don't want you to get the wrong idea. " Long before Tuesday morning. LOooooooong before. I've sat here all day seething, knowing that any response would and will come off as bitter and emotional. I gotta tell ya...lesbos suck. I suck for trying to get my honey where I get my money, she sucks coz' she's spineless.

I'm never gonna be cool NYC lesbo, and you know what...I don't want to be one. Fuck these hags.

Well until next time atleast.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

The Party Went Well

It's true the party did go really well. It wasn't like my normal ragers, but awesome none the less. A little bit more grown up even. The one I'm currently hot for showed up with her little fucking watchdog that I invited! Oh the horror. I thought that chick was cool, but she's lame the way all POC scensters are lame.
 Everything is a fucking judgemental therapy session. So what happend last weekend? 
Me and my friends got shitfaced, traded fistacuffs, and generally owned the night. Last night was no different, just a better vibe....that I created. I am the black gold of the sun. That is what I should have told that hag when the first question out of her mouth was "What happend last weekend?" Not...oh nice place....or thanks for having me....but What happend last weekend? Girl, I don't have to explain shit to you. Argh...Enough. I want to get back to the other one that is rather slippery. Our chemistry seriously reminds me of Kennedy and me 8 years ago. I feel heat more than most. Me and this other one are simmering. I fucking hate simmering. And coolness makes me even crazier.

I suck at being cool. All I wanted to do was talk to her. Take her in. Impossible when you the hostess and equally impossible when she insists on surrounding herself with others wiht me always on the periphery. It's like that how she asserts herself. Jesus, that's a thought.  She is just as aware of me as I am of her. Why isnt' that enough to just cut to the chase? Dude...the exact same lame shit with Kennedy. She and I are not indifferent to one another.

Bah! I'm gonna go finish cleaning club casa.

Oh quickly a note about dinner with said hot one. It was awesome. I mean really. We actually have quite a bit in common. And it's at that dinner that I really sensed something was a foot.
She likes me. I saw it on her lovely grill walking up to my party. God...I just wanted to talk to her and my pride wouldn't let me. Fuck.