She texted back horseshit about wanting to see me after flaking five times. And I’d had this epiphany. I saw a baby on Twitter. The baby laughed seeing a waterfall for the first time. The next woman I date should be the mother of my children.
Sadie’s not the mother of my children. Let’s put it that way. The nice way. This retarded flakey cunt’s not the mother of my children. (REDACTED) face and talks like a Mexican despite being Chinese. I guess better than talking like the Chinese.
If I text her back I’m unmanning myself. Back in a trap where I ask her out again. And she says yes. And I look forward. And she flakes. We know this. She gets off on it somehow. People say I’m debasing myself. They’re correct. But it’s like prison now. The convict fucking the librarian- the one female in the building- feels like a king. Even if she’s a goblin. Pussy’s like money. One dollar bill’s no worse than another.
I want the story. She married a man she met at 16, when he was 38. He was her boss at her summer job at her high school. There’s a part of True Love where the things girls tell me go in a narrative. It fits there. I want to understand women. Look into the place I dare not look.
What would I have to do. Call her. Tell her- I mean fuck. Pretend to like her. Pretend to not resent her, not be angry at her. For making me feel worthless, stupid, weak and ugly. All my own baggage but I blame her anyway. So desperate I let it happen. But I got six posts out of it. Not all great but not fake either. I didn’t do it for the posts. There it is, right? Don’t be fake for a book called True Love. You want the love but don’t forget the true.
But I want it.
Let it go one more day. Maybe I’ll meet a better looking woman who also dated the IT guy at her high school. Do I want the story or am I rationalizing wanting to text her back. She made me sit in the car to the forest 8 hours alone. Don’t text her. It’s so much harder not to do something stupid than to do something stupid.
Look she either won’t tell me or she’ll do a shitty job. No way the truth’s not interesting but she’ll fuck it up somehow. I don’t need it today. Not tomorrow. I can text her in a month and say let’s be friends and get it. You have to keep not doing stupid things forever.
Fuck her. I prayed. God told me nothing. Which means it doesn’t matter. True love’s not an autistic ricedick perving out on his teen underling. It’s the baby. Her laugh seeing the waterfall.
delicioustacos 
Nothing you have ever written says you want to know women. Not even a single woman. I suspect that even as you were learning, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from picking everything apart. Because that’s who you are. Everyone owes you something, and that makes you so angry with yourself because you should be above it all. Ted Bundy was a pussy because even though he was a great murderer, he still probably forced himself to pretend to care about people. Gross.
Do you do that stuff to yourself? I mean, clearly you do because you can’t stop yourself from writing those self-hatey bits. And this is the one place where you can feel appreciated for who you are so of course you can do it here. But maybe you should just stop doing it for everyone else. I can’t imagine that you talk to any women the way you write about them, or maybe you do and it’s no wonder they flake on you. So let’s say you don’t. Is this future wife you’ve been lying to yourself about for years, is she ever going to make it past your need to word vomit everything to the random on the internet? It seems like your real love is your blog responses. Im just saying, it’s going to be super weird when you announce your proposal to the woman you told everyone has a crusty pussy and the boys already says you should go be the tall white guy in some poor Asian country. I mean, you never would.
And then you’ll say but she’s perfect I don’t know why boohoo
You don’t like feeling like shit. You like feeling validated for being single. If you keep focusing on people who are too busy for you or don’t find you all that interesting, well the blog says you’re interesting so that must mean all women are liars. And of course you have to set up every situation for failure to make sure either no woman likes you or you don’t like them, so you can carry on this cute little blog because you don’t want to be married. You want to feel a part of something, and this blog and it’s pathetic people make you feel a part of something, as all negative as it is.
You’re all cowards. I mean that in a nice way. You don’t have to be brave. No one has to be anything. You made a choice a long time ago to accept your fear and make a whole life on that. And that’s ok. Choosing happiness is so bougie. Not everyone was raised to be resilient and to value others. And that’s ok.
Sadie?
Shut da fuk up.
Improv psychology is not your forte. Spitting skoal juice in a Fairlife premium milk jug, I throw back my greasy mane, close my eyes, and from my bearded maw the howl is Choose Happiness Roastieee!
Poor Sadie. How many pretend-angry rants are there about her on here? I can only assume she didn’t like poor daddy. It’s okay though, the boys got yer back! That’s who you’re always going to be able to rely on, right? When your at home alone, preparing that famous chicken of yours, wishing you’d spent more time developing relationships with the bois. They would appreciate you. They always have. It was they who were your truest loves all along. I mean, you all suck each others dicks regularly enough, why not?
You poor harridans with your double digit IQs, small tits, and fat gunts. That was amusing; get another tat.
Accepting (or even discussing) a man’s “fear” or “insecurity” at face value makes you a mark.
Certain men prefer younger women precisely because they don’t understand things like this.
A mark? Is this 2002? Do you still peacock? Is it like a tophat and feather boa? No wonder you all keep coming back to this guy. I thought it was just a bunch of his personal friends falsely inflating his ego.
Peacock is due for a comeback. I’m pretty sure.
Reading between the lines, it’s pretty obvious that Sadie is ugly and low class.
What the hell is the matter with you, settling for trash like that? There are so many better women out there.
I’m excited for you because you sound serious about wanting a child. There’s really nothing more in life for the vast majority of us. Shoot for at least two (with the same woman of course). Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy reading your rants, but it would be good to see you happy even if it ruins your writing.
Clockwork Orange
This was good, brought me back. I did almost 5 years federal and holy was it funny. My good friend, Italian, 71 years old, internationally renowned, caught a short bit while I was in. Told me how in the 90s he used to hang his dick out the mail slot at the back of the range for this one guard. I still laugh, said she looked like canned ham what are you gonna do but you should of seen the beast he made melonhead Tony go down and fuck in the school room for smokes. I’m dying.
As you well know, there’s better stories from trashier broads but I understand the sentiment all too well. Put her out with the trash anyway.
pls tacos…no bully…i arready hab small 6″ penor. no need to say ricedick. it hurts. i thought you were trying to avoid mean remarks.
First off, I am amazed by your talent. Truly. This writing got to me.
If I understand correctly, Sadie, who thinks she is better than you, is clearly not. You debase yourself by sticking around anyway, waiting for a text, because she’s the only game in town. You don’t respect yourself enough to end it. That prison analogy hit me hard. You described it exactly how it is.
Angela is, in your mind, actually better than you. You are not surprised that she doesn’t want you. You treat her like a semi-divine figure and you text her prayers, which she condescends to answer. Any woman you find will be second to Angela.
All of this is useless anyway compared to that baby’s face. That’s the real thing, but you continue to chase the desires of your lymbic system (a problem we all have to one extent or another).
God doesn’t answer because it doesn’t matter. That bit hit me hard as well.
I pray that God guides you to a peaceful mind and a good woman you can trust. I pray that God helps you to let go of this Angela worship, which doesn’t do much to further your cause. Finally, that Mexican taco lady is also a child of God and she has to work in a taco stand, so maybe cut her some slack. You get to drive AWAY from the taco stand. She lives there.
Good luck.
that baby-reacting-to-waterfall is only cute because she’s got good genes. also, her mother appears to have a kosher last name. not that there’s anything wrong with that of course. praise israel.