October 29, 2003
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currently playing: ben harper mix by hdl
in my opinion, the fonts with exotic names ought to look more, well, exotic.
when I was 21, I dated my first hipster… bonafide. he rode a vespa, shot iv drugs (he was diabetic, so the needle thing was fairly moot). he had that flop over the eyes haircut, short in the back, round glasses. he and his housemate (who I dated later) had the social scene in a stranglehold…it wasn’t a scene till they arrived. I didn’t know this when I started seeing him.
I thought it was fun. I’ve always just “been myself” and this was no exception. I was SO surprised when he dumped me after only two weeks of hot sex. I’ve probably mentioned the conversation…actually I’ve mentioned it a lot, because I think it’s hilarious. he said, “it’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just don’t like you as a person.”
what?
then he CONTINUED, “well you know, it’s just that when I met you, you seemed so mysterious, then I got to know you and it turns out that you’re not.”
WHAT??
a few weeks later, I hung out with him for a while, nursing him through the aftermath of a diabetic coma that came of too much meth and not enough food. a few months later, I ended up with his roommate who was better looking and better sex. yeah. that one didn’t end well either.
we were out dancing. I’d met him at the club, drove my truck. girl clothes don’t have good pockets so I put my keys in the pocket of his motorcycle jacket. later, I found he’d ditched me, taking my keys with him. I walked the five miles to his house, knocked on the backdoor, got no response, walked in. he was rolling around on the floor having sex with some girl…and I must point out that this was a guy whose black jeans were so pegged that he couldn’t actually get them OFF during sex…
I said, “where are my fucking keys?” looked around, and murmered “yeah, whatever…” and left. I ended up walking ANOTHER five miles to my house and crawling in the bathroom window.
I remember one night sitting in his lap in a big stuffed chair… he said, “you love me, don’t you?” I kind of shrugged the affirmative, and he said, “why?”
good question that.
and that is the ballad of scott and barry. they are now licensed psychologists. watch out.
Comments (41)
Yeah, this font isnt so exotic.
LOL.. Oh man, highschool/college days.. ROFL. Didnt they suck at times? Then there are those times you remember and think.. Damn, that was fun.
Psychologists? A friend, who is one, said… PSychologists are just fucked up people trying to figure out why they are so fucked up through others. If they happen to help people along the way, then Bravo!
LOL. Yeah, he isnt one I would go see if in trouble.
it’s true, though…it’s like do it yourself therapy, get a degree while you therapize yourself. you get free sessions as a psych major, too. I was an anthro major before I swerved into psych (and yes, I’m no exception to the wonky wanker rule), and I have to say, I should’ve stayed where I was.
Satori? You majored in Psych? Well howdy do!! I did not know this. Do you do anything in that field now?
LOL! what the HELL!
Oh well…
I can’t wait till I’m old enough (I’M NOT IMPLYING THAT YOUR OLD!) to tell stories and them be FUNNY and not SHITTY.
oh Fally, I AM old! it’s okay to say so! for me, being young wasn’t as good as being old has been.
yeah…I never got the degree because of stats! I’ll be finishing it in social work, which is more applicable for me. if I’d not had kids, I’d go back into anthro…that’s my true love.
Oh awesome Satori! I was going to go back to school this year, but decided against it. (financial reasons..LOL) But, I also decided that what would suit me best is something creative and owned by me. I just have to find my niche is all.
Good Luck.
yeah, actually, mine has been pushed back due to funds, or the lack thereof. it’s just not time, anyway.
Now licensed psychologists?? I’m gonna give that a big EEEEEEEEK!
Of course, it does afford you the opportunity to barge into their respective waiting-rooms at some point and deliver yourself of a hearty “Psychologist, heal thyself!” or two.
“hello Mr O? I need to make an appointment to discuss the deep scarring I acquired when a man in my past told me….” *snort*
ah jeebus. that’s scary. (the fact that they’re now licensed psychologists, at least.)
people place too much value on being mysterious. I mean, it’s fun for a while, but for an entire lifetime? I think not… but two weeks is a tad short for figuring someone out. punk.
A fitting end for the dynamic dickhead duo. Now they’re getting paid to screw people over. And you? *smile* I hope you’ve learned something valuable from all this. I can’t imagine what it would be.
it is: Never have sex with someone who can’t get their own pants off.
my desire for company occasionally trumps my disgust of the human race, yep, that’s what it is.
I’m glad you’re more self-protective than I was. of course, I’ve seen 6 week old kittens more self-protective than I was.
just because humans disgust me most of the time, doesn’t mean I’m tough… I think if I was tougher I wouldn’t be so irritated at them.
and I sure wasn’t self-protective. self-destructive. still have those tendancies, too.
when my parents told me something was too hot, and I shouldn’t touch it, I always touched it. empirical evidence. know what I’m sayin’?
I have an ex story like that.. ask me about G sometime
hahaha ‘pegged’ jeans….
I have known that type of person firsthand, I so can relate to easily to that one. We were so cool in the 80′s. HA!
Imagine someone that wanted to get to know you because you were mysterious because they didn’t know you and once they got to know you then you weren’t so mysterious because they knew you. Hilarious!
How you managed to make such a funny story out of such an experience is beyond me.
And the punch is divine.
i used to be late to gym class on a regular basis, becuase it took so long to unpeg my pants.
…you don’t think i’m mysterious anymore, do you.
that is one freakASS looking tiger in your banner. maybe you could have it eat that freakASS looking rabbit in kitty’s profile. shiver.
Haha, whoa! I wasn’t expecting that last line. I was expecting something more along the lines of Yooo, I sweeear, the baaaand’s gonna make it, maaan.
I never understood the point of decaf coffee.
I’m guessing they’re both Freudians…
“Oh mother…”
-M
BTW-Anthro-Cultural or Physical????
I was going for Cultural, but I decided I’d rather just take classes and learn what I want to learn (besides, I’m such a math retard when it comes to anything more difficult than simple algebra)
-M
*snork* ok I just have to laugh at the image of the pegged pants…
Never have sex with someone who can’t get their own pants off.
Wiser words were never spoken.
Is it just me or is he vaguely remnicent of Austen Powers?
how very astute of you, Mr. Legend… hmmmm…
Psychologists? That’s just wrong on so many levels. Any make who EVER wore pegged jeans has NO business telling anyone else how to get right in the head.
Oops. Should read ‘Any MALE’….
mandrake: cultural…although I ‘spec I would have gone native.
rache: that’s not a tiger, it’s a BANTH (and I’ll always think you’re mysterious flutter::)
quirk: the TIP OF THE ICEBURG baby…I am a FREAK magnet.
but “make” is so mysterious!
bahahaha, here and see? i was expecting that link to go to some Important Literary Work That I’ve Never Read, and then i was gonna feel all stupid and shit. but now? i don’t. hahahaha.
…one of these days i will read something. i swear i will.
Funny, this font looked exotic on my work computer. The Scott and Barry story made me laugh, especially the end. I just dumped a guy who was Scott & Barry put together… and he will be a license psychologist in just two years!
rache, watching porn with subtitles doesn’t count as reading.
no, you’re kidding, right?? I suppose masturbation doesn’t count as exercise either?! ::runs away::
is this a competition between you and me?
what competition? the dumber than a box of hair competition? I think I have that one sewn up.
That’s better than fiction!
ignore that bitch sealkitty; she’s just trying to drag us down into her private hell of books and gym memberships.
…oh wait. shit.