Evening of 8-14-7

I used to think I was a bit of a whore, or at the very least, easy. Having since met more females over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that I just happened to click with a couple of females on a timely basis. As in, I’ve met more females that I, in fact, am not particularly attracted to.

Of course, the very basis of the initial judgement is flawed. I’m not sure why I felt such guilt as a result of being physical with females. I’m trying to think of the instances, and they just aren’t lining up. That was probably back when I had expectations of “how long” it takes to be physical. Ah. Now I remember. After being heartbroken over Angel, I thought it was because I was so physical with her.

Right, that was the initial seed.

I’m still single. I’m always single. I joke with Cliff that I’m kind of glad, because most of the relationships I see have way too much bullshit in them.

I recall Jennie saying to me recently that she can’t see dating me. But she can see being married to me. What is it I said years ago, “I’m not the kind of guy you date, I’m the kind of guy you marry.” I can’t say I’m the guy who goes out of his way to impress girls. Fuck no. I’ll let some other guy dangle their carrot in front of girls to see if they’ll chase. (Pardon the expression.) I haven’t the patience for the kind of bullshit most people do.

That’s why I respect Tara. She told me, to my face, that she was getting a boyfriend. Which meant we’d have to, well, not be anything. I told her I appreciated her honesty, and that she had a nice hairy nutsac. What is that phrase I like so much? The truth will set you free. Sure, I was disappointed for a little bit, because she was cute and she was fun to make out with, but I got over it.

I count girls by kisses. Because I never want to forget the names of the females I’ve kissed. I’m weird like that. The joke with myself is that Tara was the tenth, so the next one will be on my feet, SO I’LL HAVE TO STOMP HER OUT HEART.

(My goal is to entertain only one person: Me. Ha ha.)

(I’ve told this to people, but they didn’t get it. I count girls on my fingers. I have ten fingers. Eleventh girl will have to be counted on my toes. Get it? Got it? Good. (Michelangelo still doesn’t get it.))

I’m rather worn out. I’m not sure how I’m going to work, school, and lift. If I start getting run down next month, I’ll just ask to work only Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.

Cliff lent me the GameCube that Anthony gave him. And the only game worth playing is Smash Bros Melee. How sad.

I’ve had this text in notepad for over an hour now. I think I’ll go pee and sleep now or something.