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I feel like there’s someone out at the end of the universe who thought, “Hmm. That ‘Celibacy’ post worked out pretty well. Maybe the kid deserves another shot.” Then that night, “Wait, he did what? I give him another chance and this shithead did what?”

Let me set the mood for you a little: Fresh off a victorious post, it’s Saturday night and I’m at a friend’s apartment for a celebration. I’ve come prepared with my game face: there are three women I’m attracted to—two redheads and a blonde—and I promptly make moves on none of them. I move like a flower to a bee; rumor is, according to my Mom, I’m pretty awesome, so I’ll let them come to me.

Long story short, one of the redheads and I are flirting with a green pen much later that night. That is, we’re drawing on each other. All of a sudden she goes all out dotting my arms and my face. I finally reclaim the pen and attempt to get her back. I realize if I use my he-man-woman-hater-strength to write on her face, I’ll probably end up poking her in the eye.

I tell her that she wins and that I’ve got to wash my face. She says she’ll wash up, too. I go into the bathroom and pretend block her entrance. She uses her she-woman-man-hater-strength to enter. I wash and she blocks the exit. This is the kind of fantasy I’ve had since I discovered fantasies and what do I do? I stand there for somewhere between three and five seconds and quite literally think “I know what I’m supposed to do” and then don’t do it. I just walked out.

And now every night I can’t sleep; my brain delights in torturing me with all of the things I could and should have done. All I can say is, never again. Never again.

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One Comment

  1. Happens to the best of us.


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