Smile!!!

I swear I saw this guy on the subway one time.... "smiling" at me. You've probably seen him too. "How you doin'?"

Guess who winked at me?

I know I haven't updated in a while, but I HAD to share this.

Guess who winked at me today on match.com?

How could I NOT be depressed?

Another One Bites The Dust

You ever date a guy who, by the end of the relationship, takes you back to when you were a virgin and you were deflowered by a guy who turned out to be a complete tool. And 10 years later, looking at a half eaten cheesecake, you wonder what the hell you ever saw in the guy in the first place... I mean, beyond the chiseled abs and the straight, gleaming white smile and that delicious man smell.... if you're one of the lucky ones.

I had that feeling last night. It's the revelation that I call the clearing of the fog of adoration or some call, the removal of your rose colored glasses. Then that damn hind-sight kicked in and I'm so pissed at myself. I was so cheesed that I had bothered to give that man the pleasure of knowing anything more than just my acquaintance. I think that if we were only allowed to have like 3 sexual partners in our entire lives and after the 3rd on your whole punani just folded in on itself and closed up. Then you found out that you had wasted the last one on a LOSER!!... Oh man, there would be a lot more female murders and lesbians (by choice) in the world.

Ladies, trust your instincts. I had the feeling but SOMEONE, not naming any names, (Britney!!!)told me that I shouldn't be so distrusting of men in general. While that's probably true because I am the President of the Town of Screwface and I am probably the most cynical, pessimistic, realist you will ever meet, the problem is, I always turn out to have been right.

Mr. Common-Law. Tsk, tsk, tsk.... Sigh. One problem with the man is that he was way too non-confrontational. There were decisions that needed to be made that he dodged, consistently and quite well with whispers of sweet nothings. I can't be with a man that is unable to make a stand when he is unhappy with something. Because what ends up happening, and had happened to this fellow in previous relationships, is that they find someone else who doesn't do that annoying thing that you do. Which is all well and good... except he have the cojones to face the fight that will come when he tries to finish his business with you first. This occurrence is also known as CHEEEEATING!! Oh no, what they do instead is wait for you to find out about their other "friends" (for some girls it may take more than one of these occurrences for them to get the drift) so that you'll end the relationship for them. They never have to take the plunge or choose a time and place, the disgruntled girlfriend will do it for them.

Now, Mr. Common-Law told me the biggest flaw that he found in himself was that he was selfish. I think he felt that if he warned me that he was selfish, he couldn't be held responsible for my sour feelings when he did selfish things, because he had warned me. Sorry buddy, just because you told me so doesn't mean that it's okay for you to behave in that manner. Nor does it soften the blow when you selfishness hurts my feelings. Like.... just because I tell people that I'm mercilessly rude, doesn't mean that they're any less aggravated when I tell them that I don't like their shirt.

The most depressing thing of all in this matter, is that yet another good man has fallen to PPS (Peter Pan Syndrome). This man could speak three languages, graduated from university, reads books (that don't have pictures) on a regular bases, the man was ripped (like you could scrub clothes on his abs) and, wait for it... COULD SPELL!!! Say what? That's right. He used phrases like "moot point" in a proper sentence, without effort.

moot

-adjective: open to discussion or debate, debatable, doubtful.

As I had predicted, he inherited this disease from his father, who is single. Last night, during a conversation with Mr. Common-Law, I mentioned the word "marriage" in reference to a conversation that we had on a previous day and the man looked at me like he had just thrown up in his mouth a little. Then, he actually said that he had thrown up in his mouth a little. Which leads me to question, what on earth happened in your life that gave you such a great disdain for even the mention the word? He seems to think that the "bachelor pad" the he and his dad occupy is the bees knees. But in reality his father is probably lonely and cries at night and then puts on a smile and some visine for his son in the morning.

I feel so bad for the man, that for this time and this time only, I am actually considering abandoning my normal boxing of this man. What is boxing you ask? A symptom of my need to compartmentalize. It consists of a systematic blocking out of the man in question, which includes:

• deletion/blocking from facebook


• blocking on msn (back in the day when I still used msn)


• deletion/blocking on blackberry messenger


• blocking of all email addresses associated with the dude


• I will not change my phone number for refuge from any man, I'd rather cuss him out first. I've had this number too long.


• I will not read nor will I respond to any texts

The only reason why I'm even entertaining the abandonment of a process that has worked SO well for me before is because I would love to hope that he realizes sooner than later that he's headed for a life of loneliness and embarrassment. Maybe I can even become a voice of reason.

Let's be realistic, there are a few, and I mean FEW, women in Toronto who may share his hate for the institution of marriage. You show me a girl who never wants to get married and I will show you a LIAR!! 98% of the time. But to truly find one of these girls she would have to be the first one to say it, without hearing any coercion or propositions from this man. Because otherwise, she's lying to herself and to the dude, hardcore. You know, he might be able to convince her at first because she's desperate and wearing the same rose colored glasses that I had on last week. But eventually that girl's gonna start dropping hints. If he's really good he'll be able to get her back on track again with a bit of clever talking. But you better be sure that after 10 YEARS, she gonna start dropping lyrics and ultimatums.

Love is like sunshine, you should know it as soon as you see it. The useless men out here are trying to make us believe that love is like lightning, you gotta wait for a few more flashes or hear the thunder to be REALLY sure it was actually lightning that you saw the first time. My LARGE problem with that theory is that you may not see another flash of lightning at all today. You might even have to wait for a brand new thunderstorm all together!! This could be next month in some countries or next decade in cities that suffer from severe droughts. After a year at MOST, you should know if you love someone, without thought or delay.

"It don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine." - Common

My Back-Up Plan

I watched the J. Lo movie. Seriously disappointed, but that's my fault for having hope in a J. Lo movie in the first place. I liked the storyline behind the movie though, at least the first part.

The only reason why I watched the movie in the first place is because I saw the preview and I like, "Oh my gosh, that's me! Someone stole my idea!"

I was actually planning on just giving up on finding a guy around 35 and starting without him. I had it all planned out. I would find a good looking guy that's smart with good genes and just steal his sperm. Cause you can't just go out and ask a guy or he might wanna get involved later on when he's finished with his Peter Pan Syndrome.I mean, if I wanted you to be involved in the child's life then I would have just married him and cut my losses. Either way, I steal the sperm, do the turkey baster thing and tada!!... a bun in my oven with perfect genes sans baby daddy calamity. It's a damn shame that this is my last option... Tsk tsk tsk.

I'm kind of disappointed in the J. Lo movie, it seemed like just another way that corporate America sets us up for disappointment. "Even if you do get inseminated, a nice man will find you and accept you and your strange test tube baby that's not really his. Although, right after he met you, you exploded and your stuff got all stretched out and now we have no time for ourselves. But it's all sunshine and lollipops for us. Happily ever after." Bullshit. I hate to break it to you Hollywood, there is no such man. Including the man who played that chump in the movie.

So here's my plan for this year... Save some money for my future test tube/turkey baster baby's education. I suggest that you do the same, by that I mean save for MY child's education, just in case I end up like Octomom.

Peter Pan Syndrome

I am growing very weary of this Peter Pan syndrome. The havoc that it has wreaked can be compared to that of a genocide in that it is responsible for the death of the respectable gentleman. It attacks no one else, not the child or the woman. Millions of men have fallen victim to it's persuasion and have either never found or lost the loves of their lives as a result. Left only to roam the streets and clubs in ensembles of Southpole jeans and doo-rags or backwards-turned caps and overpriced "vintage" t-shirts. It's really depressing to see them and know that once they could have been the greatest joy in some one's life, only to be relegated to being the butt of most of my jokes.

Most of us women have become all to familiar with this syndrome. Some of you poor souls are married to a man who is suffering from it right now. What is it exactly? The fear of growing up and gaining responsibilities. Here are some symptoms:

• the refusal to admit their real age (ie. they've been 29 for the last 10 years)
• trying to pickup girls who are at least 10 years their junior
• when they are lucky enough to find this poor girl, they cheat on them with some old tired hag with slack breasts, because they believe that they have game like that... still.. in their 40's
• they join blackplanet.com (although it's not popular or cool anymore) at the age of 55, claiming they are 45 and try to pick up the 22 year olds (Eww, believe me, it has happened to me many times)
• in lieu of the concerns that they should be having for a man their age (ie. saving money in RRSPs for their first home or just saving money period) they buy PS3s and the newest Blackberry and Jordans (like shoes are really a collectors item to anyone outside their group of fellow losers. You never see women trying to collect Jimmy Choos or Louboutins!! We make sure we wear them, to be seen in them!!)
• they don't leave their parent's house until they have found someone else to take care of them, normally a naive wife who believes she can "change" them
• they get very depressed when they try to do the things that they did when they were in their prime and they hear muscles groan, joints cracking and they are stiff with soreness the next day. They are realizing that, although they may tell the world (excluding the government) that they are 29, their body is actually 35. Whether they like it or not.
• they're great with kids because they share the same mentality and level of maturity
• they float from one meaningless job to another or they leave a perfectly good job to "find themselves", behind the fryer in a fast food restaurant (if you're lucky) or on your couch for a few months (if you're me) or a few years (if you're a fool/sucker)

Unfortunately for this dying breed... and I say dying breed because most of them either waited too long to have children or their children want nothing to do with them because they are ashamed.. or they think it's contagious... they realized far too late the error of their ways. When they are ready to settle down and get what some of their friends have, no respectable girl will have them. Their refusal to grow up and accept the responsibilities that come with life clouded their vision. They realize that you can't start a family with a woman their own age, a 50 year old woman. Their seed has been wasted in condoms or fooled by birth control pills, or, for most of them, spilled on their countless keyboards in the fall of their pathetic lives.

I have seen the Peter Pan syndrome ruin the best of men. It normally strikes them around 25 when they realized that they can't go for 5 rounds of sex in one night anymore. Or a younger man beats him in his best game and he can't even run long/fast enough to beat the crap out of him. Or that they are on the 9-5 grind in a job that they don't want to admit might be theirs for the rest of their life and they should have been a rapper. "But I'm only 28! There's still time for me to join the NBA!! I'm only as old as I feel."

The biggest tragedy in this whole ordeal, is that they will ruin the next generation too if their propaganda is allowed to be spewed unchecked by loving mothers who have had enough. They will poison the younger generation and say, "don't get married, it's nothing but a thankless job","Look at your mother and I. We're not happy." But he will leave out the reasons why: Because his wife got tired of his bullshit and decided she would be better on her own with a set of rechargeable AA batteries. At least the batteries are guaranteed to perform night after night without fail. She decided that she didn't want to be his common law wife anymore. Sickened at that the fact that she has only gained that title because the law says so, not because he gave her that title with a ring and professions of love. And this is why this generation, and the generation to follow, will have the largest numbers of common-law partnerships. Women will settle for it or convince themselves that this is actually what they want as well, for the sakes of their own sanity.

I actually thought that the fact that, even Jay-Z, finally got married, would actually help my cause. But I completely forgot that he's 40!! He's a old ass man with a 28 year old fine ass wife. He is actually perpetuating the disease!! He is a damning example that will elicit hopes that you can have all the hoes and bitches that you want in your youth and a young, successful vixen will still want you when you're old, fat, burdened with baby-mamas and possibly full of STDs.

I'm sorry, I'm really depressed at my prospects for my future. I might just go out and get a few cats so I can get a headstart. Start practicing my inane ramblings in the mirror. Tonight I mourn the loss of a generation of men who are afraid to grow up and hope that I find one that was able to take off his juvenile blindfold and see marriage and aging for what is really is.. an acquired taste from which you reap what you sow.

Feminism is the invention of a very smart man

I know it's been a while but what can I say, I'm busy.

Ladies, we've all been duped into thinking that feminism was the creation of several like-minded women who wanted equality for all and yada, yada, yada. Fellas, the jig is up!! If you really think about it, feminism have given women the shorter end of the stick in many situations where we used to have it nice.

For instance, we all know that chivalry is dead.. But feminism killed it!! All those stinkin overzealous women who insisted that they didn't need a man to open the door for them, who insisted on pointing out that they can open their own car door. We know all know that you can open the door! Ya didn't have to ruin it for the rest of us lazy heifers who like to have men paying the utmost attention to us.

I'm not gonna pretend that I wasn't there with Destiny's Child talkin about "All my women who independent!! Throw yo hands up at me!" back in the day. All on the I-don't-need-a-man flex. I jumped off that train when I realized that a dude was behind that song. I can picture the conversation that he had with himself after a $400 dinner:

Damn, that date was really expensive! That girl ordered all the most expensive stuff on the menu and then she left me with a kiss on the cheek! This is some bull! There's got to be a way for me to be able to spend less money but get the same caliber of date... What if I convince her that I will "respect" her more if she pays for half or whatever she eats? If I make her think that she's more of a woman because she doesn't need me to pay for her food. Then I can take her out more often but not look cheap... But I can't be the one to make the suggestion... I gotta find some half-wit celebrities and prudes to penetrate the women's fortress. He he he... penetrate. Anyways, what could I call these, hmph, revolutionary women. What sounds important but normally means that you relieved yourself of one burden and gained several others.... Huh? Oh yeah, happy 4th of July dude.. Wait, that's it! Independent women!!

That's right ladies, you've all been bamboozled by yet another snake in the grass. While you've all been out there taking care of yourselves, in more ways than one (lol), they've all been spending they're residual income, and some of yours, on PS3s, Xboxs and LCD TVs. Yup, when you're women's intuition was calling this man a LOSER for looking at the check in the restaurant and trying to figure out what he had from what you had, so that he can split the check evenly, you were thinking that you're showing him how successful you are BY YOURSELF because you can pay your own way on a date.

You also, won't take his money because you don't NEED (insert neck snap here) a man to take care of you. And while that might be true, we certainly would LIKE a man to take care of us. Am I wrong? But you know he certainly will take your money. How come your girls ain't calling him a golddigger? LOL

So that's it. I'm starting my own revolution. I am a preferentially-dependant woman. Meaning I'm dependant when I prefer to be. And! I am not paying for another date. You wanna spend time with me, you can pay for it. I have to: squeeze my toes into some uncomfortable shoes, a bra, who's straps require and instruction manual (so that you can't tell that I'm wearing a bra) and some underwear that will find themselves where no man has gone before, before the end of the night, and pay for it too? You wanna spend time with me hommie? You pay for it. Some men will say, "What makes you any different from a prostitute then?" Am I a prostitute? Well, let's look at the definition of prostitute, "One who solicits and accepts payments for sex acts." The answer is no. Because experience tells me that 90% of these men I date will not be engaging in any form of a sexual act with me if I can help it. So, I'm not paying. I'm gonna leave my purse in my car. Sounds like a plan. Although, I'm sure that with my new revolutionary status, I will have a lot more time on/with my hands. LMAO

Walk left, stand right people. It's not rocket science.

It was inevitable. After becoming a Rocket rider again this January, because I'm not crazy enough to drive downtown, I remember, more and more, why I drive. Why I pay the hugely inflated gas/insurance prices. Because:


a) If someone farts in my car I know EXACTLY who it is (not me of course, I suffer from a debilitating disease that doesn't allow me to fart outside of my own washroom. It's called Shame, maybe you've heard of it)
b) There is to be no nose picking followed by flicking in my car
c) I can turn my music up as loud as I want and you can say shit old people


This morning I was riding on the train and this old man the first TWO of the above three. He LEANED to one side before he passed some rancid gas! He leaned!!! I was sitting the corner of the two-seaters and this guy was sitting in the first seat of the three-seaters right in front of me. He was working on his little sudoku puzzle in the paper and I saw him lean. I laugh a little to myself cause I know a couple of family members who lean, just like that, before the let it rip. Mind you, they only carry-on these ways in the comforts of their own home... and sometimes mine... but that's another rant all together. I thought that there was no way this man would execute "the lean" before punishing us all for the burrito he enjoyed last night. Obviously, when the pungent odour hit my nose holes, I realized I was wrong. Then he had the nerve to look around and see if anyone noticed. I NOTICED!! For a moment I thought I was the only one. That maybe I had just created the smell in my mind because I needed another reason to hate the TTC and he had done "the lean" but he wasn't getting something from his pocket or anything. Just then, a lady got on at the next stop and went to sit in the seat next to him... if you could have seen her face turn up!!! And the scowl!! LOL She went and sat way down at the other end of the train. Ha ha ha ha. Foulness. Yea, yea, yea. He's old, maybe he can't control it. He can damn well control the nose diggin though. The man went mining for nuggets in plain sight and FLICKED.. IT! It's 7:45 in the morning buddy, there is no chance that no one saw that! People don't have shame anymore?


Please people, for the love of my nostrils. STOP FARTING ON THE RUSH HOUR TRAINS!! I don't plan enough extra time in my morning commute to allow me to get off the train and wait for another one that doesn't smell like hard-boiled egg and sour milk.


Four words: Walk left, stand right. Not sayin anymore. Google it. There's songs about it. I swear. Google it.
For the hefty rocket rider, it may need to be changed to waddle left(which you probably won't do), squeeze futher to the right. Either way, MOVE!! Take the elevator. If The Simpsons has taught me nothing else, fat people are considered handicapped after a certain weight and can order special dialing wands if they mash the keypad with their palm, now.

He he he, that's funny.

Therefore, that elevator is there for you. Get your 3 dollars worth and ride that thing till you break it, which may not take too many trips depending on the level of your handicap (how fat you are). Lol. Anyways, I digress. Nothing pisses me off more than when I'm late (which is often/always) and I get a good stride going and some girlfriend/boyfriend feels that they must hold hands, side-by-side on the escalator. 30 seconds later, at the top of the escalator, I missed the train. 5 mins later, when the next train comes, I'm 5 mins late/later for work. Why do the rest of us have to suffer because you wanna have a PDA? MOVE!! Or feel the wrath of one of the longest teeth-suckins you'll ever experience and a cut-eye that will cut you through my sunglasses... or I might just say excuse me. Results may vary depending on day of the week and time of day. OK, NOW I'm not sayin anymore.

OK, am I the only person who notices when the train driver ain't too good at breaking? Like, sometimes, when I have to stand on the Yonge train in the morning, I swear the new guy is driving/learning how to drive. You'll know what I mean if you look around when they're pulling into the station and everyone's stumbling all over the place cause he don't stop with one fluid motion. It's always like, screech...... screeeech... scr.... screeeeeeeeech........ screeceeeeeh...... and then one more right at the end when you thought he was done... screech... and that's when the fat lady falls on you cause she thought she didn't have to hold the pole. Please stop training the new guys on the rush hour trains. It's too early in the morning and there are way too many people on the train for this shit. I miss you Honda.

Excuse me Madam, is this your kerchief?

I have proposal for you ok? Have you ever seen, back in the olden days, like the 1500's, when a girl had an interest in a man, she would ever so carefully drop her handkerchief? Ya know what I'm talking about? Then the dude would pick it up and gallantly return it to her if, he too, was interested.

I think we should bring it back!! Do you understand how much simpler that would make things?

Ok, imagine this. You're at the club and you see a sexy mandingo and you like his rhythm, style, wardrobe and all that junk. Right now, the only recourse you have is pretty cryptic and hit and miss. You shoot him a few looks or you dance your way over to him and smile a lot, all the while, hoping beyond hope that he's not an idiot who can't catch a clue or not gay.

This method can be sloppy and at times you may end up catching the attention of some one's dad who snuck in the club or worse yet, the attention of his very ugly/smelly/stupid/non-rhythmic sidekick/wingman/cousin. Not the most efficient method if you don't have time to be up in the club every night.

Introducing... dum da da daaaa... The Handkerchief! LOL I know. Just go with me on this for a minute... You get your most ballerific kerchief and step out to the club. Same dude, same scenario. You drop that bad boy at his feet. Now, I am in complete understanding that this could go one of two ways:

1. He could pick up the wickedly styled kerchief and strut his way over to you, present the kerchief to your awaiting (well lotioned) hand. If he's really good, he'll kiss the hand and the two of you can dance all night long like Lionel Ritchie.


2. He could step on your fancy kerchief or kick it, depending on how far out of your league you aimed. Is it a rejection? Yes. A harsh one? Yes, but an immediate rejection. If you think about it, you were gonna get rejected anyways. This way, you didn't spend an entire night trying drop hints in a bucket with no bottom. An entire Saturday night throwing looks at a man who was dodging them like boxer dodges jabs. Or worse yet, barking up the wrong tree.

The same scenarios can apply to shopping in the mall or drinking at the bar. Not to mention the accessorizing that can be done with the kerchief. The classy girl can get some sophisticated embroidery. The ghetto girl can get some bling-bling. Whatever says the most about you in what might only be a 2 second glance. Like a business card for dating purposes only. LOL Mine would be like a nice embroidered Barbados flag, because that actually says volumes to most West-Indian people.

So, what do you think? I think it's an awesome idea. Will it catch on, probably not. But hey, at least I'm trying. I mean, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. I don't know why this ever went away... or maybe it never left... People throw their draws on stage at concerts. I guess it's a practiced that is only reserved for the baby-boomers, their parachute draws and the upper echelons of society now a days.

Just and idea. I just think I might get more out of a night at the club this way...

The Aftermath

Guess who's back? Ok, so the aftermath. I normally could call Mr. Holla-Holla-Holla's department 6 times a day a never get this guy for a month straight. Would you believe the NEXT DAY, I call and I get this moron on the phone? No matter how much I crossed my fingers and wished.

So, I tried to act all civilized and professional, as I thought was necessary. I said "Hello," and told him why I was calling. He abruptly responds, "Hold on." Then he proceeded to place me on hold for 5 minutes and transfer me to another representative!

Like, how old are you buddy?! Acting like a little baby. But not to be so easily forgotten, would you believe he turned around and tried to add me back on Facebook again 2 days later? Of course I declined him, but then when I went to go and block him, I had already been blocked. Yet again, the actions of a sulking child.

Did I mention that he's a smoker? If you smoke or date a smoker, that's great for you but I don't. I'm not trying to kiss an ashtray. Sorry, not my cup of tea.

About a week later, I'm emptying my junk-mail folder and I noticed an email from this stalker. It went something to the gist of:

I know you don't want to talk to me anymore but I don't know why. I was outside yesterday and I heard some people saying some things about you, some serious shit. Shit you wouldn't want people saying about you. I'm just letting you know because I care.

So, ummmm..... WHAT DID THEY SAY? WHO SAID IT? You think I'm some kinda second-rate idiot? You think I don't know what you're trying to do? Smooth move Ex-lax. I'm not even sure if this jackass really even heard anything but people at my work place talk about me all the time. Tell me something I don't know. In case you haven't picked up on the game, all this fool wanted me to do was rush to my phone and call him up so that he could tell me who was besmirching my good name. He could save the day and be back in my good books. Look, don't insult my intelligence with simpleton's tactics. Just plain rude.

You know he started off well-ish. Always offering to help me do things and go places with me. Now I realize that he was just being possessive and smothering me from the get go!!

"What are you doing?"
"Grocery shopping."
"Want some company?"
"No, I'm almost done."
"Did you want me to come and help you carry them up to your apartment?"
(Proper spelling/punctuation has been assumed because i can't remember exactly how he wrote it)

Just in case you still aren't convinced that I dodged the BIGGEST bullet, I found out he's a BUM!! It wasn't until I had been exposed to a mere fraction of the instability of mental health that I found out what every one really thought about him. Everyone that I talked to afterwards said that he had borrowed some amount of money from them, ranging from $20 - $600!! And they had to hassle the man to get the money back. Who would loan this dunce anything more than a $10? Me? NEVER.

Salt in the wound... he was supposedly dating another girl in his own department for the last YEAR!! Like he didn't just want to have his cake and eat it, he wanted to have ALL the cake and eat some of someone else's too!! Not too long after this revelation, I find out that there is yet another girl who has fallen for the bullshit and she's in yet another department!! You've got to be one cocky-ass bastard to believe that you could pull of dating 3 girls from 3 different departments in the same company in the same BUILDING!! As of today's posting he has lost control of all but 1 girl. The one who wasted a year with him has left his controlling behind and I say, "Good for you girl!" Man... I dodged that bullet like Neo in the Matrix. LOL

I will have you know that up to about a month ago he still tried, for the 4th time, to re-add me as a friend on FB and I was finally able to decline and BLOCK his sorry ass. Dofus has no shame.

I still get His Saltyness on the line every once in a while, which was normally followed by a FB attempt, up until the blocking.

Like I said before.. These fools is crazy!!

Can I holla at cha? Holla, holla, holla!

OK, part 2 people, as promised. It's a little late, but hey, it's here all the same.

The same Sunday that I had the baby shower that I was at, I got into an argument with a family member and chose to.... dun Dun DUN!!.... TURN OFF MY BLACKBERRY. *gasp* That goes to show how pissed off I was at the time. After about 6 hours I went to check my msn, that was in the appear offline status. Low and behold there is a message waiting for me, that was sent to me while I was offline!! "goodnight" followed by the emoticons for a moon and a hug. At about 2 AM, I start get a blackberry message, heretofore known as bbm.

Mr.HHH: You must be really upset so ill leave you alone

The next day on my day-off from work, the bbm starts again:

Mr.HHH: At least give me a sign of life to let me know that you're ok
Mr.HHH: It's not like you to behave like this

Really?!? It's not like me. And you know this after a week and a half, what I'm like and what I'm not like? You have no idea who I am buddy. I could have been out killing dudes and you would have had no idea that this is what I'm like. Some of you guys might think this is kinda cute, "Oh, he's worried about you, that's so sweet," and all that garbage. That's not sweet, he's acting like a bitch and we're not even dating. Never even kissed the guy. He acts like two completely different people from one minute to the next. One minute he wants to know who upset me so he can come downstairs and, "check their chin" or "do something to them." So, you're gonna come into my department at our place of business and beat the shit out of someone because they gave me attitude on the phone? The next minute you wanna act like a bitch. If we were getting mugged in a dark alley, do I have to spin a wheel to see which one I'm gonna get?

Anywoo, Tuesday comes around and I'm back work, so is he, but in a different building. the messages start raining down:

Mr.HHH: Why would you respond
Mr.HHH: Why are you giving me the silent treatment
Mr.HHH: What did I do?
Personal message change: from Mr.HHH to Mr.HHH(Why do I always get treated badly by life for no reason?!?)

All these messages are at about 30min intervals. If you really think that I was in a car accident or something, why do you think that YOU, of all people, would be the 1st, 2nd or 10th person on my list of important people to call. Why don't you just walk your ass down here and look? You'll see me sitting at my desk in perfect health and serenity!! Before all these messages started pouring, I had already decided that I wanted no more to do with this man-child. Everytime I thought I had calmed down enough to speak civilly with the fool, buzz, here comes another one. Eventually, I just had to let him know, "I don't think we should talk anymore." That was the nicest thing that I could muster.

Mr.HHH: I was worried about you
Jammy: You can't just bombard me with messages every time I want a moment to myself
Mr.HHH: Alright
Conversation ended.

He then deleted me from every social network/messaging system he had me on. BBM, msn, facebook, all deleted and blocked too. How do I know? Because I was going to do the same thing.

Believe it or not, there's more to follow, to be titled, "The Aftermath"

Mr. Holla-Holla-Holla

Ok, I'm sorry you guys. I know I've been gone for a hot minute but, I have two jobs now! I'm not complaining because I know there are people who haven't been blessed enough to find one job, nevermind two. Your girl is TIRED though.


Either way!! The voting has ended and apparently, you guys don't care what the hell I talk about. I can say whatever I want!!! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaa!!! Fools. I'm joking. Wait, who was the jerk who said they wanted me to stay in my misery and keep dating?? Show yourself!! How rude!! I'm not changing the name of the blog for lack of a better name, sorry, I can't be bothered.


In celebration of the change to a general blog, I will grace you with one more story of my horrid dating experiences. Oh and this. I received what will possibly be one of my last messages from POF, because I can't stand the bullshit. In my message settings I stated that the sender has to have a photo on their profile in order to send me a message. So what POF does, is it will send me their profile picture and any other amount of other photos that they choose to upload to the message. Check the photos in this upload:

Profile Pic

Message: looking great my princess. Would love to get to know you sweet pie.

Additional Pic

Anybody else see the problem that I have with that message? Those two pics are supposed to be of the same guy!!! Nevermind the "sweet pie" part. See why I'm getting tired of this garbage?

Moving on. A while back I mentioned a bad experience that I had when I attempted to hook-up with a guy from my work. Like I said before, niggas is crazy!! I'm not gonna be able to fit this all in one post, lest I fall asleep on my laptop and liquid damage it with drool.
So, the man who shall henceforth be known as.... Mr. Holla-Holla-Holla was a man that I worked with at a certain bank. For those of you who don't get the joke in the name, watch the clip below. Trust me, the story will be funnier if you get the name.

So you get it now? Right. LMAO, funny ass stuff. OK, so Mr. Holla-Holla-Holla decided to add me to Facebook a loooong time before he decided to try and chat me up. I very rarely see this guy at work, but I do have to call his department several times a day though. Before this whole debacle went down, there was not one bad thing that any of my co-workers could say about this guy. They all sang nothing but sweet songs of praise and alluring mysteriousness for this fool and all his bilingual splendor. After, about 6 months of occasional conversations here and there on FB he starts coming on strong. Eventually, I provide the man with my Blackberry PIN because I am tired of communicating on FB messages.
In the beginning, he messaged me all day, everyday. From the time he knew I was up until the time that he went to bed. It was cute... for a while. While any smart woman knows that you can't expect to judge a connection properly from text/blackberry messaging alone, people can get busy in life and it has to suffice. But this guy. His conversational skills in text were lousy at best. I would try to strike up a conversation and he would snuff it right out, by accident. LOL. And the spelling!! Geesh!! Example:
Mr.HHH: What are you watching?
Jammy: A documentary on the No Child Left Behind act.
Mr.HHH: OK
He could have asked soooo many inquisitive questions or made an intellectual observation or gave his opinion on the matter.... instead I get bupkis to work with. Example #2:
Mr.HHH: That's a horrible case of self empalment
Really?!? You couldn't even get the root of the word right, to impale. I don't even remember what we were talking about but... My God man!! If you can't spell the word, spell check that garbage OR a second option.. don't use the word!! So imbaracing.. that's how you spell it right?
You think the conversation got any better once we spoke live on the phone? Think again. For a week and a half this man messages me all day. At work, at home, while I was out with friends, ALL DAY. One Sunday night, he tells me that he'll talk to me tomorrow and I tell him I have a baby shower to go to, so I won't be able to talk.
"That's okay," he says.
"But I won't have time to respond because I'm in charge of all the games at the shower."
"I'll still message you anyways."
Alrighty then. You know, he messaged me anyways!! About foolishness!! "Work is so boring", "I want to go home", "I'm tired" etc. I would not even dignify them with a response. This was the beginning of the end with him. Believe me, it only gets worse from here. Ttyl guys. Tomorrow, part 2, I swear.

VOTE OR DIE!! or live... you know, whatever.

Am I the only one who's sick of seeing Eharmony commercials on TV? How many times can you show the same/only 5 couples that you managed to "match"? If I had actually paid money for that service I would be sooooooo upset right now. I would dare them to come up with some kind of guarantee. I can honestly say that I have had, not ONE prospect of a man on either of the two sites I've been on.


Oh, okay. So POF has a feature on their site that lets you know when a person has actually read the message that you sent them. So it will either say "Read", "Unread", "Read/Deleted" or, the dreaded, "Unread/Deleted". 99% of the notes that are still in my inbox probably say "Read" on the other person's side. Soooo, inevitably there are those who write back and question why I read their message and didn't respond. Really? Do you actually want me to respond to that? I think it's kind of stalkerish of you to question my choices. What exactly am I supposed to say?



Dear Mr.Loser/Uncultured-Barbarian/I'm-Sure-You-Have-A-Nice-Personality:

(Please note your problem(s) below, more than one may apply)

1. I didn't respond because I find you hilarious, but not in a good way seeing as you were probably trying to be very serious. As a matter of fact, the only time I didn't laugh was at parts that were followed by "lol".
2. I find your profile remarkably offensive to women in that you call us "bytchz" or "hoes" or "hefers" in more than one place.
3. The fact that your profile pic is of you and some scantily clad woman whose face has been scratched out with MS Paint or a fingernail is disturbing to me.
4. The fact that your profile pic is of you and your... cat/dog/reptile all in your face or licking your face, is also disturbing to me.
5. You mentioned that you were on house arrest in your profile... like it was everybody's business. I'm gonna go ahead and pass, but I admire you're honesty.
6. If you scanned your pic from your passport and that is the only one you can find, I'm not interested in why you couldn't find ONE friend who had a digital camera that you could borrow.
7. All of your profile pics came from a webcam that look as though they were taken in a basement. Like, you don't leave the house? You don't see daylight? You're hiding from your wife in the basement!! Yes, that's it. No thanks.
8. English is not your first language, text messaging is. Note: POF is not on your phone and this EMAIL was not a text message.
9. I can tell you stole your profile pic from a MAGAZINE!! Really? That's just sad.
10. Did you just write "Laughing Out Loud" as opposed to writing lol? Like it makes you better than the guy in #8 cause you know what it stands for. Pretentious much?

Do you feel closure/understanding/anger now? I hope so. Happy fishing!!

PS: Next time, just assume I didn't respond cause I don't like you. Don't beg. It's not sexy, no woman likes that. Don't think that maybe there was some kind of malfuction in the system and my response got lost. You can't lose what was never sent. You're coming off as desparate. It's not a good look. Stop it.

I think I'll just copy and paste that with the problem #s in the subject line. What do you think? To direct? Not enough sugar-coating?