Seems like famous last blog words but really, who do we have here: KFR, Gwazdor, myfriendh, I think occasionally my former closet-mate from work may check what's happening, and sometimes Nick in Afghanistan (Nick, I'm reading a book about Vietnam I might send you if you would ever possibly want to read a book about Vietnam while you're in Afghanistan... anyway, I am reading it specifically with the intention of understanding what it might be like to be there, because the style of it - memoir- is probably better for me than other styles.)
So anyway, just you five at best. Some other people at work must know the name of the blog from seeing me look at it... but I really don't think they read it or care.
-redacted-
Here's an important part of the post though: Most Men are Fucking Retards who should suck on something til they choke. You know that dude I keep trying to end it with the one who is enirely inapporpriate for every reason there is a person can be inappropropriate. Well, he sucks. Now it's just ugly. (saw all this coming which is why I'm not morally reprehensible by the way!!!! Never forget that!!!!) Despite how I saw all this coming and that being the reason that I'm not morally reprehensible, you might be interested in the details somewhat -- in the grotesquenss? He won't leave me alone. I have laid it all down so many times it's quite annoying now. I told him I don't want texts; I want nothing. I like him but we're nothing to eachtoher, not really, and please leave me alone unless you have soemthing to say besides how am I doing becasue I have no reason to worry if he knows how I'm doing. I said no coming to my house and I take my clothes of for free. I told him that in some religions that is your reward in heaven - I just have told him so many times that the only thing that would be acceptable to me would be if he somehow planned something for us to do, told me the date in advance and we actually did that thing together and enjoyed having the experience together (getting a beer would count here too for what it's worth) but instead what we have happening is a whole whole lot of texts that say "how are you" and "what's happening" and "so what do you think". So I re-stated my fucking case. I said, listen, I already have a lot of friends I love and don't get to see most of the time. This is retarded. "How am I? If I'm fine, so what? If I'm not, so what? Don't call me if it's not to do somthing together... oh and again that thing can't be have sex at my house" He says he understands. He says, okay, we agree. Then at the end of the day he texts "Is it taboo to ask how your trip to the museum was?" YES! YES IT FUCKING IS. So, he's really direct about how he's just trying to keep his hand in in case somehow he can maybe get to have sex... I don't even know. It's sad. I'm such a sucker for funny directness that I still do like him... I mean I have an antipathy and I wouldn't want to not have it. But the directness is getting demeaning and depressing now. I told him no more again so I guess that's all done but maybe he's a personality disorder type to add to my list of lovers with personalisty disorders and will be texting to ask how I am tomorrow. What a jerk. These bare minimum people are upsetting. Oh p.s. He asked what it would cost! I said a lot. Then I said a thousand dollars. That story cracked Christine up. What a loser. When he texted abotu the museum last night I texted back "Long story You'll have to get me a drink and I'll tell you" and he wrote back "Get me bring me take me." So you see how ugly now? As if I'm somehow gold digging, when I've never been brought, given, or taken anything. Apparently not wanting to be hounded constantly by texts about how you're doing makes you a golddigger now. Some men are really really really self-centered.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO please write me an email if you are bored today my sweetest dearest
Alexis
