People might be under the impression that I've been having lots of luck with women the last few weeks because I've gone on a lot of dates and had several girls over to my house. But if I kind of tally things up, it forms a rather bleak picture. Here's what's happened since I broke up with my ex (or she broke up with me):
Chunky Lesbian: I met this chunky lesbian when I had some people over for an after hours party. For some reason I was instantly attracted to her. I think it was because she looked kind of intelligent, yet depressed. I have a thing for intelligent, depressed women. Or is it low self-esteem? But anyway, we went out and got drunk and then had sex. She was really pretty chunky. Chunky might be putting it nicely. But she had this really wonderful long hair that went down to her lower back. Her hair wasn't chunky
This fling had a really weird ending. She called me really late one night and asked if we could get together. It was like three in the morning and i had to work in four hours, so I said only if she came over to my place. She agreed. Then she called a few minutes later and asked if she could bring a girlfriend over. Sure, I said. So it was going to be a threesome. It started out okay, but then the chunky lesbian started blathering about how she really wanted this guy Wesley.
"Well, go fuck Wesley!" I said. "No one's keeping you here." In the mean time I did it with her friend. But the chunky lesbian coudln't shut up about this guy Wesley. Then she started insulting me.
"You're really weird," she said. Then she started to give me a hand job an almost pulled my dick off.
"Look, I think you better go," I said. The chunky Lesbian said she was going to go, but then she kept dilly-dallying around my house and talking about this guy Wesley and telling me how weird I was. Finally, I started screaming at her, "YOU NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW!!!" Finally, the chunky lesbian left with her friend.
The next day she called and apologized. She said something about having a bad week and having bloody bowel movements and going to the emergency room.
"I'm sorry to hear about that," I said. And that's the last I've talked to the chunky lesbian.
(When I say she was a lesbian, she was really a lesbian. She had just gotten out of an 8 year relationship with a woman and she's only 25).
Turnip Farmer Lady: I've always had a thing for this one turnip farmer lady. Actually, she's a former turnip farmer lady. Turnip farms only last about a year around this town, and that's if some rich husband is willing to support the place while its obviously losing money for six months. Anyway, I've always had a thing for this one turnip farmer lady. She is rail thin with no tits at all, but a beautiful face and long dark hair. Somehow we caught each other's eye a few weeks ago at this warehouse party. Before you know it we were making out like highschool kids in front of everyone. I asked her if she wanted to go back to my place and she said yes. I was pretty drunk and I coudn't find my car and when I did find it, someone was parked behind me, blocking me in. I had to get on the microphone and cajole the owner of the white acura to please move so I could take this turnip farmer lady back to my house. Anyway, we finally got back to my house and started making out on my bed. She let me take her shirt off, but like I said, there was really nothing there. Just turnips on a rib cage. But when I tried to take her purple panties off she would just say, "no-no!" I tried twelve different times but she alway just said "no-no!" (It was only weeks later when Farmer Brown came back into town that I realized I was his ride to that warehouse party. He said he had to walk ten blocks in the dead of night through a bad neighborhood because of my horneyness.)
First Internet Date: My first internet date turned out to be a nice surprise. She looked really hot and we seemed to have a pretty easy time talking to each other. She even had an interesting sounding job: fashion merchandiser or some such thing. At first I was kind of pleased at how much she liked to drink. She just sucked down the beers as fast as I did. We went from Tampa to St. Pete and had a few more beers. Then she seemed like she was getting too drunk. We went back to my place and kissed and fooled around. When I got her in the bedroom she said,"you can do whatever you want to me, but I'm not going to be into it. I'm too fucked up." Well, forget that. I'm not going to have sex with a corpse.
The next date the internet girl didn't look so great. She wore this dumb, eighties looking orange shirt, and with her hair pulled back her face looked really fat, and it seemed like she was always slurring her words. We tried to have sex this night, but the fireplace went out of control and choked us with black smoke. My third date with her the internet girl looked good again, but she got so drunk that she passed out half way through the evening.
We went on a fourth date and the internet girl didn't get drunk, but she told me straight up that she didn't want to have sex with me. She said it didn't seem right since I was so much more experienced and intellectual or some such thing. She said I had so much to offer her, but she didn't know what she could offer me. (Sex, maybe?)
"I thought maybe I should have told you that before you bought this wine and food and the movie, but I just didn't."
"Oh well. No big deal," I said.
2nd Internet date: I went on a second internet date with a girl from Sarasota. I drove forty-five minutes down to a Don Pablos to meet this girl. As soon I as I saw her my hopes were dashed. She was fat. Not ridiculously fat. But there was just nothing sexy or intriguing about her. I had this very strained conversation with her about some very generic topics.
"No I haven't seen that movie either, but it sounds cool." etc, etc, etc.
graduation girl: I met this girl after doing a tree trimming job for her grandmother. Her grandmother wanted me to get with her so urgently that she could have been her pimp. Anyway, my instincts about the girl were pretty much accurate. She was kind of nervous and prude, which made me kind of nervous and prude. We spent most of steak dinner talking about how she grows cell samples for sick kids to see what kind of disease they have. She said the kids with Down's Sydrome are kind of lucky. Compared to the kids that are complete vegetables, that is.
After dinner, when we were in the car alone together I said, "would it freak you out if I tried to kiss you now?"
"Yes, it definitely would," she said.
I knew that wasn't going to work. But I just kind of threw it out there to satisfy some kind of curiousity.
9:19:06 PM 
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They laughed at me back at the academy. They said it couldn't be done. They said I was mad!
Well, we'll see who laughs last. We'll see who is mad and who isn't mad. (I'm implying by that, that I am not mad, and I will be laughing at the people back at the academy).
AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!
I've recruited this trio of slightly soiled stuffed animals (pictured right) to participate in another great Duh! undertaking.
saturday, December 20th
One of my regular weekend practices is to not bother to comb my hair until I feel like I've officially woken up or started my day. This can sometimes last until two or three in the afternoon depending on how lethargic or disoriented I am. And it almost always involves a public appearance at Starbucks or one of our local, tasty breakfast places.
When I'm in my scruffy head mode, it's like I'm saying, "yes, I'm here with you people standing in line at Starbucks, but I consider myself to still be in my kitchen or my living room in my pajamas." 