Twatter & Millionaire Shitmaker

I have a twitter now – add me assholes.

I’ve been debating on whether or not to get a twatter because 1. I already have a non-anonymous one that I spew word vomit on and 2. I’d basically be twatting to myself (not that it matters to me, I think I’m fucking high-larious).

But recently, my friends have asked me to stop talking excessively about “periods and touching myself”. And since the people that actually read the shit I write about on this blog are just as depraved and fucked up as me (aka have a goddamn great sense of humor), I thought I’d share my best little gems with you. (Aw, we’re besties now. You should name your first born after me or make me a godparent or some shit.)

In other news, I was watching Millionaire Matchmaker this morning (stop judging me) and on this particular episode there was a Millionairess that couldn’t get peen because she’s too “masculine”. One of the examples of how she was masculine gave me a laughy-laugh.

So, this rich bitch went on an outing with another millionaire. (Not a date, but a “Hey, I’m fucking loaded and can’t get someone to love me, too; Let’s chat.”) Their vices: She was masculine and he had some ADHD-holy-shit-I-talk-really-fucking-fast-I’m-a-cracked-out-pomeranian issue. Anyways, they meet up and are being leered at by some body language bitch. (She was supposed to be incognito, but when some fucker is straight staring at me and writing in a notebook, I generally take notice.) So, body language bitch was judging the shit out of their interaction in order to critique them later.

They meet. Everything is hunky doory. And the dude orders a beer with some concoction that’s holding it. He has no fucking clue how to remove it. (Neither would I. I generally just pop the tab and BAM instant gratification.) He’s turning this sucker around, gazing at it, and the girl laughs and shows him how to remove it.

Later on when they meet up with Patti’s loud, obnoxious ass, she reprimands the rich chick for helping dumbass drink his beer. It’s apparently masculine to explain how to get your glass removed from this wooden fucking block so you can get your drink on. Who knew?

It irked the fuck out of me. 

It irked me because I think it would have been more masculine (and what I would have done in that situation) to sit there and make fun of him mercilessly as he tried to drink with a wooden block around his beer. Is that not what guys do?

The show rubs my nipples wrong because of the way this Patti chick tries to shape men and women into stereotypical masculine and feminine roles. I won’t get really deep on you fuckers, but I will say that in a relationship I will be feminine for a dude; I’ll wear lingerie, bake shit, etc. but I’ll also curse like a sailor and use sarcasm fluently. It’ll be a balance between feminine and masculine. I’m not gong to trick some poor fucker into thinking I’m sweet and well-mannered, and then BAM all of a sudden I have the demeanor of Britney Spears post-Y2K. I want to be upfront; you’re dating a chick with a dick (or a dude with a vagine, whatever makes you more comfortable). What I’m trying to say is: I’ll fucking laugh my ass off at you when you act retarded. 

18 Cats and Counting Cont.

Where we were we? Ah, yes, I was sweating like a whore in church, and just met up with the second guy.

As I was walking towards him I apologized for being a dumbass, which he laughed about and lead me towards the proper caffeine establishment. He scored a table by the window while I got something cold to choke down in hopes that it would help hinder my skin from crying. I'm all nerves at this point because I'm socially retarded. So, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and then freak out while I'm in there. Here's the commentary that was going through my head while in the restroom.

Pull it together, pussy. And for god's sake stop sweating all over the place. That's right, fix the hair. Ok, you don't look that bad. All we have to do is trick him into thinking you're normal for a little over an hour and then you can go back home and watch Shark Week. 

The guy was hilarious, and after a few awkward minutes I started to calm the 12-year-old girl down inside of me and could carry on a conversation. Our conversations ranged from "what do you do with your free time?" to discussions about pegging. Yeah, again, I'm a catch. 

At one point he looked over and noticed a brick laying on top of a stack of newspapers. He mentioned offhandedly that he wanted to take it home. I told him he should, and fucked with him a little by saying, "When little Lola, that's what I envisioned our first offspring's name to be, asks us how we met, you can bring the brick out as memorabilia of our first date." He quickly followed with, "Yeah, I'll show little Lola that this is the brick I hit your mother over the head with to knock her unconscious and rape her." I swooned. I know, I'm going to marry a serial killer. I quickly followed with remarks about how we were too poor to abort little Lola and how my friends did not possess a steady hand in regards to maneuvering a wire hanger. He laughed and said, "So, Lola, you're a miracle baby!" 

We joked like that for over an hour. At one point we were people watching from the window and I noticed a group of kids playing outside. All of a sudden I watched a little blonde headed boy twirl around, lose his balance, and then smack into the window right in front of us. I died. I couldn't stop laughing. In all seriousness, I hope that child is ok, because he hit the window at such an alarming speed and at such an intensity he's probably slightly brain damaged, or cockeyed. 

We wrapped things up at the coffee joint and he walked me to my car. At one point he said, "Let's prom date it" and extended his arm out for me to take. I did so and he smiled and said, "Now let's skip!" So we skipped to the end of the block. I started feeling like an ass so I pulled my arm out from his and he goes, "Oh, do you see someone you know? Oh shit" and then proceeds to run 20 to 30 feet away from me. I couldn't stop laughing. 

When we got to my car I hugged him goodbye and when we pulled apart he said, "Well that was an awkward first kiss." I laughed and joked by saying, "What kind of girl do you take me for? I don't kiss until the 7th date, gosh!" 

He's a funny guy. I'm not sure if I see anything besides friendship, but I'll keep an open mind about it. He contacted me about hanging out this past thursday, but I was busy looking at mack truck etched tombstones. I sent him a text yesterday letting him know I was back in town. The ball is in his court. 

18 Cats and Counting

I joined a dating site a few months ago because I'm desperate. Super fucking desperate. Like please-love-me, I-hate-cats-but-I'm thinking-about-purchasing-one,  my-wrist-hurts-so-bad desperate. On top of this blatant desperation: I'm awkward. I'm a catch. 

I've been on two meetings so far. I call them meetings because I've had to pay for my own coffee and I don't consider that a date by any means. And just a disclaimer, I really fucking hate coffee shops. Why in the hell do people pay $5 for a cup of coffee? Whoa, they add whipped cream and a random shot of expresso! I'll just throw coffee grounds in my homemade cup of joe and call it a day. Shit. Anyhow. Both meetings went well. 

The first guy it was a complete friend vibe for me. He was sweet and interested in the stupid shit spewing from my mouth, but I was unbelievably bored. He had a very dry personality. Where I have a very crude, laugh-at-me-because-I'm-fucking-funny-and-narcissistic personality. We talked about seeing Inception together, but I ended up getting this gnarly ass flu that left me feeling like a silverback gorilla clubbed me to an inch of my existence. So, I never got back to him about the movie.

The second guy I embarrassed myself rather splendidly in front of. First, I went to the wrong coffee joint because there's about 82 different coffee places downtown. This one in particular that I erroneously went to was closed. So, I immediately thought fucking great, an asshole that is teaching me lesson. I had blown this guy off not once, but twice. The first time was for the Jersey Shore premiere. I'm not messing around with that shit, a date can happen anytime, but the Jersey Shore Season 2 premiere is a once in a lifetime experience. The second time he invited me to a party that was happening at my apartment complex (he didn't know I lived there) and I just wasn't feeling it, so I said nay. Anyways, if this was a lesson, I sure as hell didn't want to let him know that I was being schooled, so I started to walk. Where exactly I was going, I had not a clue, but I did know that if he was anywhere around the coffee joint, and he saw me pulling on the doors like I was jonesing for a mocha frappuccino, I wanted to distance myself from there pronto. I walked a few blocks and ended up in front of a community college. I sat on a bench and wondered if this is what my life had come to, having lessons inflicted on me by strange internet folks. I decided to head back to my car because I felt like a total loser. Then he texted me.

"Are you on your way?"

Ah… I went to the wrong place. At this point I was thinking should I even bother meeting this guy? I was already sweaty because I was all nerves and it was hotter than Satan's vagina outside. But, I knew my roommates would give me straight shit if I skipped out on this dude so I sucked it up and texted him. I ended up walking 4 blocks to find him and when I saw him I thought not too shabby.

This is what I looked like when I met the second guy. Mallet and all. 

image via

to be continued...