Amusing Idiocy and Useless Drivel

Bennie passed out after my Xmas gathering.  He flirted too much, and it wore him out.

Sooo, I've been remiss again with December's postings.  But not for long.

I read on Yahoo news that some young asshats decided to name their new baby girl, Hashtag.  Seriously??   Hello?  Cheech and Chong called.  They want their bong back.  Someone commented that baby Hashtag's parents mother's name is probably "OMG" and the father's must be "LOL."  New levels of idiocy, folks!

Speaking of idiocy.  Cactus Man attempted contact via text last week.  Since Cactus is an idiot, I figured he was too stupid to realize that a Verizon "block" only lasts 90 days and not try to contact me ever again, so I never re-blocked him after about the 3rd time.  However, Christmas day, I woke up to the sound of my phone beeping a text at 5:00 a.m. with an 813 area code.

Obviously, it was Cactus' number, and he wrote, "I wonder if I am still blocked.  Merry Christmas."

Seriously?  As if, Cactus.  As if I want triple therapy all over again, as if I want toxic in my life again.  Really?  So I laid in bed, wondering what to text back.  Something snipish?  Something to chew his ass out?  Ignore it?  Re-block?  I fell back asleep, and when I woke up, I knew.

I went over to my netbook and brought up my Verizon account and entered his number to re-block him, but before I hit "OK," I sent him this hysterical reply:

"Merry Christmas to you, too.  Though I think you have the wrong number.  This is Morris Bad Wound, Hermosa, South Dakota.  Take care."  Then I hit send, then I hit "OK" to block any immediate replies from him.

Then I fell over on the couch laughing.  "Morris"?  And "Bad Wound"?  He'll either think, "Oh, she changed her number."  OR, he'll figure out, once he tried to reply to "Morris" and got a blocked response, that I tricked him and will be furious.  Either way, it's hysterical.  What a great "last word."

Gotta love it.  What a douchebag.

Happy New Year's!

Feminism, Right to Work, and Pass Me a Beer, Please

Wouldn't it be cool if you could wolf down a Chicago deep dish like this twice a week along with copious beers and never gain weight?

Anyway, I'm hungry, at work, and ready to go to the gym here in a minute, but I read something today that was rather shocking and fits in to my last two posts.

C.E.D.A.W.

Know what that is?  If you're an American, ironically, you do not.  It's the Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women.  Every industrialized nation in the world, EXCEPT AMERICA, has signed on.

Nice, huh?

Then I heard Michigan just became a "Right to Work" state, which I call, a "Right to Live in Poverty" state.

Furthermore, what GIVES with employees who do NOT belong to a union the right to think that they can have the same benefits and pay as the guy right next to him, who works at the SAME place and BELONGS to the union and pays his/her dues?  Hello?

On NPR, I heard people who are for this are for it because they think it brings more good paying companies/jobs to a state when they adopt this ruling.

Hello?

South Dakota is a wonderful example of a state that is a "right to work," but one of the lowest paying states in the United States compared to all the other states.  Thanks, South Dakota!  Thanks, to our wonderfully, "always thinking of the little guy" far-right conservative, good-ol'-boy back slapping backwards asshats.

Especially west river.  There are hardly ANY good paying jobs in western South Dakota.  The few ones you see are usually government jobs.

People are idiots.

Have a good day.

Are Women Ever Truly Free? And Other Misc. Observations

The beautiful prairies.  And no, I'm not telling you where this secret place is that I might have to visit this weekend.

Sigh.

I heard on NPR last week something that correlates to my last post, a fact about women that's rather unsettling.  What is it?  Here goes.

Guess which career field most American women fall in?

You're probably thinking, hmmm.  Nurses?  Nope.  Teachers?  Nope.

Secretaries. 

I gasped when I heard this statistic.  1943 called.  They want their Bake-a-Light phone back.

How can this be?  Sociologically, how is this possible when we've had the right to vote for almost 9 decades?

Those who don't find this shocking, ask yourself this, if the leading one career field for African American males in 2012 was still sharecropping, you'd be mortified.

So why are most women still secretaries or glorified secretaries (aka, "administrative assistants:)?

I blame it all on the last post.  This strangely co-dependant need to be the "other half" of a man, to be swept up in a sea of newborns.  Women obsess about being with a man, being his "better half," swept up with this, desperate to have this.  Men do NOT obsess about women.  Men do NOT obsess about being one's "other half."  They obsess about sex, themselves and their career, but NOT about women.  What gives?

I used to think it was just women's need for security.  We all want security.  We all want to be loved.  We all want and need a permanent roof over our heads, some security, etc.

So if you CAN be a woman and have security without losing yourself into a man, how come I see so few examples of this? 

So what is it?  Why are most women either in denial or stuck in this sociological rut?

And secondly, when will this ever begin to change?

Disappearing into a Man: Why Do Women Do This?

I've noticed that many women, when they start dating and find a man, disappear into that man.  They lose themselves into that man.  Their friends start to see them less and less.  The woman's old habits and routines start to disappear as his routines and life are slowly absorbed into hers.  lnadvertantly, they lose themselves entirely.

I've noticed this for years.

Sadly, I've only known three women, out of dozens and dozens who do not disappear into a man.  They are the exception to the rule. 

Consequently, this was for many years,  the chief reason I never wanted to marry.  I never wanted to become one of these women.  I find it disgusting and entirely disappointing.

Why does this happen?  What does this say about the women's movement and the progress we've made?  It kind of shoots us back to 1930, doesn't it?

Yeah, we've gotten the right to vote, serve in the military, own property, but when I see women do this, I feel sickened.  Why do women feel so desperate to find a mate, then turn around and lose themselves?

I see it over and over and over and over again.  I wish I could be proven wrong, but I see it so much, I have no other recourse but to see that most women are no where as independant as they'd like to view themselves.  This leads to the fact that when they deny they do this, they are entirely delusional.

This character flaw that women have is one reason I do not have that many women friends and have several men friends.  Because men DO NOT DISAPPEAR INTO A WOMAN.  They maintain their "self" with or without a woman.

More later.  Happy T-day, and I'll speculate more about this later.  Keep your heads up!

Done with Dating

Me, back in the day, as a college student.  What I didn't know about men back then.  Lordy.

Sorry, I've been remiss.  Just busy with work.  Dating news?  Well, here's a big update!  I'm done.  No more dating.  I took my name off every dating site that I was on back in September and have been enjoying slowly getting my piece of mind back.  Screw all that dating crap.  I'm done with it.  After The Hole, there was a freak from Colorado writing me who started claiming that he was "falling for" me.  Hello?  We were only talking on the phone two or three weeks and hadn't even met yet.  That sealed it.  Done.

In, fact, I'm seriously thinking of going back to my ex.  No, no.  Not Cactus Man.  I've not lost my mind.  But the dude I dated for 8 years.

He was a commitment-phobe and never put a ring on my finger.  In fact, that was the only time we'd ever quarrel.  His big drawing card?  He is trustworthy.  And we are good friends.

And these days, after all the damned flakes I've dated since 2004, that one quality

T.R.U.S.T.W.ORT.H.I.N.E.S.S

is beginning to mean a lot to me.  Love, schmove.

What really matters in life when it comes to people is trustworthiness.  If you don't have that, you don't have shit.

And he's still cute, too.  Why not.  No hurries.  We're just exploring our friendship.  And if you go at it that way, friendship, you can't go wrong.

Being a Fugly Magnet is Lame

 

So I'm waiting for an appointment that's late, and I hop on POF to see if Good Looking Guy has e-mailed, but of course, he hasn't.

Neither has Neat Cool Nerd Guy who likes Bill Byson.  Bummer.

Instead, three fuglies wrote me. 

It's like I'm a magnet to them, and they are just drawn to me.  What is the deal? One of them had a frightening Frankenstein-shaped head.  The other had a head shaped like a light bulb.  It was rather alarming.

Why do I attract fuglies like a moth to a porch light? 

1. I am NOT fugly.  2. Don't fuglies know they're supposed to write other Fuglies like themselves?  Does a Cyclops try to mate with a swan?  Do frogs mate with eagles?  NO.

So what's the deal-io?

Besides the three fuglies, I have an Italian-Fuglie writing me, but I don't mind so much, because he at least had the balls to write, "If you're not attracted to me, I understand, but I'd still like to make friends." 

Bravo, Fuglie.  At least he knows he's one.  And not assuming that I think he's Brad Pitt.  For that, I just might agree to go out with him.

The other three Fuglies?  Buh-bye.

New Dudes on the Horizon

Ahhh, summer.  Where's it gone?  Sigh.

Apparently this blog went "viral" a few days ago, and I got TONS of visitors in one day.  This is because my dating life, athough tragic/poetic/disappointing is at least for R.E.A.L. and I think people would rather hear more about the American version of Bridget Jones instead of the shit Hollywood passes off as "Romantic-Comedy."  Why watch some unrealistic romantic-comedy that in no way mirrors real life when you can read my blog?

So anyway, there's new dudes on the horizon, already after The Salesman hit the shitter.

And get this.  Don't spill your coffee on your keyboard but there's two who are LOCAL.

As in Rapid City. 

And neither one are so ugly that I will have to put a bag over their head in public.  One is actually hot.  What, you gasp?

However, Doooder and T. think one looks boring.  Of course, it has to be the good looking one, which already is a red flag.  As in, good looking for a man usually means "P.R.I.C.K." or player, take your pick.

But the other seems like a real sweetheart.  Well educated, socially-liberal or at least grounded in the middle, has hair, can write quite well, reads books copiously.  And loves Bill Bryson.  Hmmmm.

I MIGHT meet the good looking one for coffee Saturday, though he 1. golfs (square, I know--sorry Nicky) and 2. sails (kinda pretentious) and 3. doesn't drink (snore).

Oh, wait a minute.  I forgot another one.  Then, there's "Hare," (Harry) the "square x 5" who I've been internet buddies with forever, and he lives in Rapid.  He just texted me this morning and wants to meet up for happy hour Friday.  But Hare's a squared-supreme-deluxe, so, shrug?  Meh, might be a few laughs.  I don't consider him a true contender and have been sending him fart sound effects and bad jokes for years.  Ex.  Me: "So two pretzels walk into a bar," Hare: AND?  Me: "One of them was a-salted."  LOL.  And he has a whiney, high pitched voice and an M.B.A.  But it's good to have male buddies, even if you know they'll go nowhere.

I've got a feeling I'll probably make fun of the good looking boring guy in a future post.

But it's this first square I mentioned, the nice guy who's into Bill Bryson books that I think I might like.

Stay tuned.