Tag Archives: ass

My First Ever Online Date

18 Aug
not her, but close

not her, but close

I was on Match. 2006. My “headline” was “You should totally go out with me.” A girl messaged me saying “my roommate should totally go out with you.” I thought it was some kind of scam but no one else on the site gave a shit that I existed, so, I heard her out. She sent pics. They were of an American Apparel ass model. I thought: OK, now I gotta know what the scam is. So I set a date near my place. I honestly thought there would be people with cameras laughing at me.

I get there and it really is an American Apparel ass model. Also a med student. Really gorgeous, really smart, everything. We drank wine and it went well and she suggested we go back to my place. We did. And I had no idea how going on a date works, so– I didn’t make a move. I didn’t even kiss her. We talked for two more hours and then I walked her out and gave her a peck on the cheek goodnight. I thought that’s what you were supposed to do, seriously. And I thought the second date should be dinner so I asked her out again and she got all hesitant and weird and eventually just flaked.

I’ve been behaving like a complete pig ever since. Chasing down the ghost of the best pussy I ever could have had.

Update

11 Dec
egret

A great egret, unruffled by nearby American coots

Monday was a bad day. Because Sunday I went out with a pretty girl. She didn’t like me. Tame date at the duck pond; I’m trying to not get girls sauced and rawdog them on our first meeting. I’m old now. I want a wife. I spread out my blanket and she sat turned slightly away from me and I knew. I learned about girls’ body language cues from PUA message boards. I used to read that stuff all the time. Had to leave because of the politics. Misogynists are wrong about everything, except women.

She didn’t like me and she took off. I spent a few minutes on Tinder desperately trying to call in the second string. I failed. When something like this happens I start to think I’m a malodorous mutant who will die alone of some crippling illness. In this case, early onset Alzheimer’s since that Julianne Moore trailer came out. That lasted 36 hours.

Tuesday was a good day. I got fired. My company merged with another company, or bought some piece of them, or they bought some piece of us. That meant they needed to cut a bunch of people. One of them was my boss. That meant another one was me. Continue reading

Protected: Coffee Shop Diary: Ass

14 Jun

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Protected: Diary: Sunday in the Park

11 Aug

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Protected: Sex Machine

4 Aug

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A Thousand Ships

26 Feb

What killed me was the way she walked.  She would pick up her feet like a cat in a litter box not wanting to step in its piss.  Like a fawn trotting.  It made her ass shake in that sheer little Wilma Flintstone dress and she knew it.  She was “bubbly.”  Friendly.  She dropped a piece of ice and the host said it’s great to watch you bend over and she giggled like it was 1962 and no one ever got sued.  She laughed in a way that let you pretend.  You know she’s fucking some yoga instructor or some Russian guy for money but you can’t remember these things like you can’t remember the alphabet backwards when a cop’s shining a klieg light in your eyes. Continue reading