Posts Tagged ‘dating’

Whatever happened to that girl?

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

I should probably say a few words about this post.

No, I didn’t eat her pussy, because I never met up with her, as predicted.

On the appointed day I texted her the website of the sushi/buffet along with a time to meet. I have a pay-as-you-go cell so it took forever.

Her response was: “Huh?”

So I canceled.

Hours later she texted, inviting me to go for a walk on the beach. Usually with the ladies that’s a good thing, but she wanted to go around 5 pm; she’d already told me, “If I really liked you (romantically) I would be so shy I wouldn’t be able to talk to you.”

I didn’t answer her invite. I wouldn’t put up with this shit from friends therefore I couldn’t put up with it from her.

Besides, after her reject I got stoned.  Being stoned, I wasn’t about to go to the buffet alone.

I’ve seen her since. She’s mad at me, of course. A Japanese-Irish girl.

Imagine how bad it would be if I cared.

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I’m 40, she’s 20

Saturday, 29 September 2012

Don’t know how I did it but I got the cute Japanese girl with big tits from this post to go to lunch with me this Monday.

“Platonically!” she all but yelled.

Oh, that’s how.

It’s an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet with a huge sushi zone, not that I’m being racist. No, really!—she doesn’t like pizza or wings.

I’ve been trying to lose the same 10 pounds so I’ll eat light all weekend and make my “cheat day” the day of buffet. I also plan on being slightly stoned. I expect her to be fully horrified by how much I put away. I don’t care.

Not caring is how I got her to agree to lunch. And I’m not caring in the best way: I truly don’t care. I told her three times before I got her number that it’s OK to cancel if something comes up.

“Like what would come up?”

“I don’t know, you win the lottery or something.”

She claims she is shy, and the only reason she’s able to talk to me is because she’s not interested in me ‘that way’.

“If anyone falls in love,” I warned, “it will be you with me.”

I’m using this non-date as a test, to see if I remember anything about table manners and listening skills.  

The girl is beautiful with perfect teeth, and such fierce, callow energy you have to witness to believe.

I would love to fuck her with ultimate tenderness or even just eat her pussy for an hour, but the price would be terribly high.

Whether she chickens (or sushis) out or not, I’m going to that motherfucking buffet and eating till the manager says, “YOU GO ‘WAY, WE CLOSED, ALL FOOD GONE, WE LAUNDRY NOW!”

So much more to hate about “More to Love”

Thursday, 30 July 2009

Fox’s More to Love is a train wreck featuring a fat guy looking for a “Rubenesque” wife.

Don’t know if they filmed this prior to the economy shitting the cot, but Luke (The Fatchelor?) is a ‘successful real estate investor’ who owns his own home (no small feat in Mexifornia) and at age 26 makes six figures. That alone should be enough to have the shallow whores of Santa Barbara spreading their fake-tanned legs, I don’t know why this guy wants to lose half his shit at such an early age.

Watching ‘humble’ Luke walk down the beach shirtless, I thought, ‘This fucker’s not really that fat: 330lbs on a 6’3 frame? Love handles, sure, but that’s it.’ He used to be some football behemoth, playing the position of Brick Wall, and the conspicuous absence of body hair meant we’re dealing with yet another fucking shaved dolphin. No, modest Luke’s not worried about extra flab, but body hair on a man in the 21st century? Not unless you’re Wolverine.

Poor Puke. I’ve never heard a reality show “actor” sound more scripted and wooden. “Real beauty is on the inside.” Fuck you.

The other half of this train wreck is the women and their not inconsiderable cabooses. They’re introduced to the traditional reality show colorfully lit mansion (likely owned by some porn king) via limo, but the editing makes it look like all 20 big-boned women are emerging from the same long black clown car.

If you’re a Simpsons fan you may recall the ep where Moe gets plastic surgery and becomes a soap star. Before his transformation he overhears a producer say she wants, “Mary Ann on Gilligan’s Island ugly, not Cornelius on Planet of the Apes ugly. TV-ugly, not…ugly-ugly”. Nineteen out of the 20 women weren’t fat-fat, they were “TV-fat” and gorgeous knockouts, to me and probably a lot of other dudes watching. I would be overjoyed to fuck the shit out of any one of them or all of them at the same time (I’m a hopeless romantic as well as insane).

When the broads meet Puke they are all in some kind of evening wear and gorgeous. About half of them have “sexy confidence” which may or may not be a lie. All of them, via embarassing confessionals, explain how they’ve never had boyfriends or been on dates. I wanted to feel sorry for them but I know too much. The reality is when The Gang is together or out at the club and the cunty thin bitches are being their usual impossible selves, the feral shithead men turn to (or on) the fatties to get suction. Sadly I’m sure every one of the 20 has sucked lots of crooked cock and done a whole lot more in a desperate scramble to get whatever the hell it is they want–“love” being the usual trope –but their pain seemed to run a lot deeper than that meaningless word.

During the hour (40 min. if you have the miracle of TIVO) Puke the Fatchelor is taking the “girls” off to the side one or two at a time and getting mouth kisses, which I found offensive. Kissing is an intimate act, handjobs would’ve been more apropos. The banter and confessionals of the women really hurt. Not a few of them kept crying and saying shit like, “This is my last chance!” Bitch, you’re fucking TWENTY-ONE and you met Puke not more than 20 minutes ago. Last chance? Enough.

Here’s the one Puke will probably pick. “Malissa” may or may not have the best tits in the bunch but she was the best at showing them off.

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