Thursday, March 23, 2017

Unsolicited Dood Nudz.

  Before I dive into this topic, I'd like to take a minute to apologize to my mother and anyone else who may be reading this that holds me in their mind as an innocent little butterfly.  What you are about to read may frighten you, shock you and make you throw up in your mouth a little bit. However, I cannot be held responsible for the actions of others. I would like to take this opportunity to address men on behalf of women everywhere. Here we go.

Dear Men,

  It has been brought to my attention, and unfortunately my eyeballs, that you have taken it upon yourselves to grace the presence of our phone screens with awkwardly angled photos of your Johnsons. I wanted to take this moment to address you directly and let you know how it feels to be on the receiving end of such things.
  First of all, let me tell you what immediately happens when such things are received.  A screenshot.  Yes, the dreaded screenshot.  We instantaneously screenshot that nonsense and send it in our groupchat with our girlfriends.  Then, everything about your photo is critiqued and giggled at.  Like the baby stroller in the background of the photo... why do you have that?! Or the fact that you sent it at night time but you can clearly tell it was taken in day time... do you just keep these pictures on standby for whenever you might need them?!  Also the fact that you obviously took it at such an angle to make objects appear larger than they are. NOT TO MENTION the fact that these photo's 99.9% of the time are COMPLETELY unprovoked. The only message an unprovoked d*ck pic sends is that you think we are going to sleep with you.  Which, even if we were, we sure as hell aren't now.

 Exhibit A:

 OK, dude.  What part of that conversation lead you to believe that a picture of your wien was desired?  Was it the part where you suggested hanging out and you were ignored?  You just thought to yourself, "Oh, she didn't respond.  I know what will get her to hang out with me!" ::eye roll:: Just because you love the sight of your own body part doesn't mean we will too.  Look, I'm really happy for you that you're so proud of it ... but like... NO THANK YOU.  Also, when you send something like that, are you expecting us to reciprocate and send a photo back?  Cause it's not happening, sir. 
 So, in conclusion, please refrain from sending us snapshots of your peen unless, on the VERY rare occasion, we ask to see one.  The only thing that will come from you sending something like that is either getting blocked or having a blog post written about you.  Or, in this case, both. ;)


Saturday, March 4, 2017

First Impression Friday - The One With the Crier


  First Impression Friday is a bi-weekly (or whenever I feel like it)  blog series in which I tell comical stories about ridiculous first encounters I've had with members of the opposite sex.  This will alternate with Red Flag Friday whenever I see fit (or Saturday - like today.. whatever.)  How have I not blogged in a month?! Things have been so crazy with moving and just life.  But I promise I'll be better, Girl Scouts Honor.

  The story starts like this: A few months ago I was at a bar trying to have a leisurely evening out with one of my best friends.  We ended up in the middle of a sweaty dance party which is totally not my scene but... when in Rome (or The Whiskey Republic).  I decided to leave the dance mosh pit and make my way to the bar for an adult beverage.  As I was trying to push through, a guy tapped me on the shoulder and asked where I was attempting to navigate to. I told him the bar and he literally pulled a Moses and parted the Red Sea of people for me, making a path to the bar.  Not going to lie, it was super flattering and it made me feel like a princess.  I thought that was the end of him but boy was I wrong.
  Later on that evening, my friend abandoned me on the dance floor to go to the bar.  A few minutes after I was alone, Moses returned and introduced himself.  He began drunk rambling on and on about his life and his friends and how society is crazy.  You see, I have this problem where I am way too nice and I don't know how to walk away from people and don't know how to say no or be mean.  Anyway, he must have gone on and on for at least 20 minutes. (Please keep in mind that this was all in the center of the dance floor with people bumping into us and grinding on each other.)  He dragged on and on about how I will never meet anyone else like him and how much money he makes (gag).  At one point, he was telling me about his friends and how they're into hard drugs. As he was telling me about this, I noticed that his eyes began to get really glossy.  For a minute, I just assumed he was glazed over with drunkenness.  But the more I looked at him, the more I realized it wasn't that at all... The more I looked at him, I thought "Oh no.. He's not.. Tell me he's not going to..".  Yes, ladies and gents, the boy on the dance floor started crying, right there before my eyes.  As tears streamed down his face, I couldn't think of anything else to do besides awkwardly and stiffly pat his shoulder like "there, there".  It was most definitely the most uncomfortable situation I have ever been in.  The only thing more uncomfortable than watching a man cry is watching a man who is a stranger cry.
  After what felt like an eternity, my friend finally returned.  I gave her the ole nose-brush-get-me-out-of-here motion and she pulled me away, thank god.

Only me.