Actual conversations...

[QUOTE=Mr. Brown;1071681]Fist of all,, you got bitch moves covered for all of us. Second, it was started to see if people felt the same way. Point made with that thread. Thank you, move on now.[/QUOTE]It was a bitch move and you're too ashamed to admit it! Haha! Bitch move Baris, that's gonna be your nickname from now-on!

[QUOTE=corellion;1071700]It was a bitch move and you're too ashamed to admit it! Haha! Bitch move Baris, that's gonna be your nickname from now-on![/QUOTE]

Oh god. You got stamina kid.

Quit bringing it up and let it go. It's a bitch move to comment on other people's arguments, I'd say. You're not involved; it's too easy.

.

[QUOTE=xec8;1071710]Quit bringing it up and let it go. It's a bitch move to comment on other people's arguments, I'd say. You're not involved; it's too easy.[/QUOTE]
You're not involved. This is about Brown and the rat.
[QUOTE=Mr. Brown;1071707]Oh god. You got stamina kid.[/QUOTE]
I got stamina, and you got the moves of a bitch. Please just PM me who this rat is and I'll be good as fucking gold, polite as platinum, silent as silver, whatever you want.

Me: There's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.
Wife: Yeah, I know. Do you see any?
Me: Not yet. I keep having to jerk my head around looking for them. The porch light puts these glares on the rim of my glasses and it looks for a split second like a meteor out of the corner of my eye but then I turn and look and it's not there.
Wife: Sweetheart?
Me: Yeah?
Wife: You don't have your glasses on.

Hahahaha your cornea is detatching and you're going blind lol!

edit: hope thats not achully hapning.

[QUOTE=corellion;1071719]You're not involved. This is about Brown and the rat.

I got stamina, and you got the moves of a bitch. Please just PM me who this rat is and I'll be good as fucking gold, polite as platinum, silent as silver, whatever you want.[/QUOTE]

No and let's move on.

[QUOTE=xec8;1070816]It's a much healthier and faster way of dealing with trifles.[/QUOTE]
no its not its passive aggressive, totally sick behavior.

[QUOTE=morey;1071732]no its not its passive aggressive, totally sick behavior.[/QUOTE]
Well, I can assure you that when I'm in a better mood than I've been these past few days, I can be as blunt as confrontational as you could wish. Unfortunately, the last thing I've been needing lately is arguments on the internet as well as real life, so you'll have to forgive my slightly passive-aggressive one-liners.

As for any trouble with Anna that JT fabulated, there is none. She's fantastic and with some luck this time I'll be in an actual, respectful relationship instead of all this childish sleeping around with people. I know you guys were just fucking around but I thought I'd clear that up as well. I'm very tired.

i don't know about any one liners, and blunt and confrontational are not the answer to that passive aggressive shit, you're pretty fucked up but then you're a teenager so that goes with the territory.

[QUOTE=morey;1071843]i don't know about any one liners, and blunt and confrontational are not the answer to that passive aggressive shit, you're pretty fucked up but then you're a teenager so that goes with the territory.[/QUOTE]
If you say so, man. But don't patronize me just yet.

Second grade computer class today:

Me: Okay everybody take-

Class: BlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

Me: You're supposed to-

Class: BlahBLAHBlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHMrGINeedHelpBlahBLAH
MrGINeedHelpBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

Me: One at a time. Everybody...

Class: BlahBLAHBlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHMrGINeedHelpBlahBLAH
MrGINeedHelpBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

Me: QUIET!!! (ringing off the walls)

(five blissful seconds of silence.)

Me: One at a time. If you need help, quietly raise you hand, and I'll--

Class: BlahBLAHBlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHMrGINeedHelpBlahBLAH
MrGINeedHelpBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

[QUOTE=xec8;1071846]If you say so, man. But don't patronize me just yet.[/QUOTE]I love you.....Phil!!!!!!!

[QUOTE=morey;1071866]I love you.....Phil!!!!!!![/QUOTE]
And in some odd, best-left-undiscovered way, I like you too, sometimes.

Josh: You wanna slap box.
Me: Um, no.
Josh: *Punches me in the temple*

Overheard by my friend Susan at the Bowery Ballroom in New York:

Girl one- Shit, you know he's good to you, buying you things. You need a man like that.

Girl two- Girl, there's just two things I've never seen. A UFO and a nigga I need.

Work-

HotGirl: Sorry... (in my way)

*two minutes later, she's in my way again*

HotGirl: Sorry... (in my way again)
Fiend: It's no problem.

*five minutes later*

HotGirl: Sorry... (I didn't even see her in my way this time)
Fiend: Stop apologizing to me.
HotGirl: Ummm... (scared)
Fiend: Look, I'm actually a careless guy.

I can't tell why she's so intimidated by me. I want to grab her by the arm and say, Hey, I'm just a fat kid, you know?

Later-

Workdude: I think you could kick my ass.
Fiend: I think I could kick anyone's ass.
Workdude: I think you could, too.

Nightrious. I'd take you. Just for the fun of it.

[QUOTE=monkeywright;1071849]Second grade computer class today:

Me: Okay everybody take-

Class: BlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

Me: You're supposed to-

Class: BlahBLAHBlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHMrGINeedHelpBlahBLAH
MrGINeedHelpBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

Me: One at a time. Everybody...

Class: BlahBLAHBlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHMrGINeedHelpBlahBLAH
MrGINeedHelpBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH

Me: QUIET!!! (ringing off the walls)

(five blissful seconds of silence.)

Me: One at a time. If you need help, quietly raise you hand, and I'll--

Class: BlahBLAHBlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHMrGINeedHelpBlahBLAH
MrGINeedHelpBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH
BlahMrGINeedHelpBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAHBlahBLAH[/QUOTE]

This still kills me.

[QUOTE=corellion;1087181]Nightrious. I'd take you. Just for the fun of it.[/QUOTE]

To what, dinner?

Forgot about this thread...

Dirty old man, ex-marine who I work with tonight he tells me...

Him: Whoa! Check this out, two little cuties.
Me: They look 16.
Him: Yeah well...
Me: What?
Him: You know what would happen if I ever fucked a 16yr old, with a member my size? I would pull out and all there would be is blood and meat.
Me: JESUS CHRIST! *puts head down*

Oh man Maso, that is great!

This girl would not stop bothering me while I was working. It was an early shift, 8am, and I was in a surprisingly good mood despite having only a few hours sleep, beginning a four day fast, and having the flu.

Wild eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about her, two very bright, almost clear blue eyes floating, smiling, asking me about Green Swiss Chard. She was shopping with her grandfather. I was quite charmed by her and acted accordingly. I was worried about her age. She looked very young, like she could have been younger than one would expect and by far, but then she looked me directly in the eye and spoke with confidence, and had a kind of vampire charm to her, like maybe she was actually one-hundred and something. Long brown hair. I remember thinking that she looked eighteen, but could have been fifteen or even twenty four.

She asked me to help her find, ummm, sandwiches. Then I saw her smiling at me getting mushrooms, then a cucumber, and then she asked me to help her find balsamic vinegar, and then some strange type of cheese. After the vinegar, I knew she was into me and if I had of been the slightest bit prepared, I would have asked her for her number but I didn't expect her to come back to the department.

I had just finished Vonnegut's [I]Jailbird[/I] and I got thinking about the short story that Kilgore Trout wrote about Einstein getting into heaven and finding out all of the missed opportunities in the world. How just about any man had the chance to be a millionaire or to fall in love, but they missed it by a breath. I thought: If this girl comes near me again, I'm asking her.

Then, I turned the corner and there she was, wild eye smiling with her little index finger in front of her face, calling me over. I thought: You have no idea what you're getting into. And I went over, and she played her game where she asked for help to find something and I told her to follow me, I would help her find some strange type of cheese that I had no clue where to look for, and I said something and she mentioned being in court all morning and I asked why and she said she assaulted somebody, and I said for what? and she said for sleeping with her boyfriend. She said she was pregnant with his kid at the time and that she had a miscarriage, and that the other girl was also pregnant and she had a miscarriage. How did she say all of that on the way to the cheese, and why? Is that even possible.

It was the perfect opportunity to set up the question, though:

Fiend: So you're not still with him, then?
Wild Eyes: Noooo...
Fiend: Can I get your number, then?

How handy was it that she was holding a grocery list and a pen. I was convinced at this point that the girl who looked eighteen could no longer possibly be 15, and I figured she must be closer to my age (21). I didn't call her the next day because I was sick and didn't feel up to doing anything anyway, and then the next day I did call her, but it turns out she lives in a town twenty minutes away and I only remember pieces of our conversation:

Wild Eyes: How old are you?
Fiend: 21. You?
Wild Eyes: 18.

-

Wild Eyes: Do you have a car?
Fiend: No. I don't drive. Do you have a car?
Wild Eyes: No. You should get a car.
Fiend: I don't drive. I hate cars. I hate everything about cars.
Wild Eyes: haha, why?
Fiend: Because they kill the environment and...
Wild Eyes: Are you one of those environmentalist guys!?
Fiend: Yes. Yes, I am.
Wild Eyes: OMG. If you saw all the shit I littered today. We threw all of our Mcdonalds garbage out, (she goes on to name all of the containers. She must eat a lot).
Fiend: My friends litter excessively just to piss me off. I'm more worried that you eat at Mcdonalds?
Wild Eyes: I LOVE Mc'Donalds!
Fiend: You're a fiend.
Wild Eyes: What?
Fiend: I hate McDonalds.
Wild Eyes: What? Why?
Fiend: Because it's not food.
Wild Eyes: I eat McDonalds like every day.
Fiend: UGGGH. The last time I was at Mcdonalds was when I went with a friend. We got our food to the table, I looked at it, felt nauseous, felt like I was about to throw up, and then I left.
Wild Eyes: OMG! Are you one of those health freak guys.
Fiend: Pretty much. All I eat is cereal, eggs, and tuna.

-

Wild Eyes: Do you know Laura from where you work?
Fiend: I don't know. No.
Wild Eyes: She's in the meat department. Freckles, and...
Fiend: Yeah, I've seen her.
Wild Eyes: Have you talked to her?
Fiend: No.
Wild Eyes: What about the fat guy?
Fiend: The one you were talking to?
Wild Eyes: Yeah. My uncle. Do you know him?
Fiend: No.
Wild Eyes: You're a dork.
Fiend: Did you just call me a dork?
Wild Eyes: I'm just joking!

-

Wild Eyes: blablablabla
Fiend: Do you read?
Wild Eyes: Umm, you mean like, books?
Fiend: Ugh. Yes. Books.
Wild Eyes: If you give me a book, I'll read it.

-

The rhythm of the conversation ended up being pretty mellow. We concluded that we had nothing at all in common and were in fact complete opposites, she said I was cute, and I interrupted her a lot to ask her questions. I told her I'm determined to find some common ground.

-

Wild Eyes: Blablabla
Fiend: What's your favorite movie?
Wild Eyes: Ummm, I don't know. I like horror movies..comedies.
Fiend: Have you seen Pulp Fiction?
Wild Eyes: No.
Fiend: Fight Club?
Wild Eyes: No.
Fiend: You don't have a favorite movie?
Wild Eyes: Ummm, Slevin.
Fiend: Lucky Number Slevin?
Wild Eyes: Yeah.
Fiend: I hated that movie.
Fiend: Oh well, at least you didn't say The Notebook.
Wild Eyes: The Notebook was good! It made me cry.
Fiend: I haven't seen it.

She then told me a story about seeing The Notebook in a classroom and leaving because it made her cry.

-

She talked a lot. About how her tummy looks bigger at night (she's really skinny). About the six towns she's lived in. Her dad in AA. Her grandparents and how annoying they are to live with. Her miscarriage, doctors touching her. McDonalds. How her friend saw a fat gas station guy's penis. How she got kicked out of school and now goes to alternative school. About how she gets drunk every night.

-

Wild Eyes: Why are you so healthy!?
Fiend: I want to live to be 120.
Wild Eyes: I don't. I want to die before I'm fifty.
Fiend: Why?
Wild Eyes: If you're 120, your wife will die when she's 80 and you'll be alone.
Fiend: I'll get another wife. I'll have a forty year marriage left in me.
Wild Eyes: That's so mean-
Fiend: No it isn't.

-

Wild Eyes: Why are you so healthy!? (she said this at least three times)
Fiend: I want to live to be 120.
Wild Eyes: Do you smoke weed, at least?
Fiend: Every night.
Wild Eyes: I love you.
Fiend: .....

-

She asked me when I knew I was going to ask for her number. I told her the same thing I told you guys, minus the bit about Vonnegut. She confessed that she made up sandwiches on the spot. She did not end up buying a sandwich. She confessed that she didn't need mushrooms and already had cucumber, and that she knew where the vinegar was. But the cheese, she really did need. I was going to tell her that I made two copies of her phone number and put each copy in a different pocket because I was so scared of losing it. But I didn't. That's sweet as hell so I'm saving it for when we meet, which will be Monday.

[I]Cassandra.[/I]

[QUOTE=Smartazboy;1087419]To what, dinner?[/QUOTE]

Seems I've been beaten in the attempt!

[QUOTE=Nightrious;1101197]This girl would not stop bothering me while I was working. It was an early shift, 8am, and I was in a surprisingly good mood despite having only a few hours sleep, beginning a four day fast, and having the flu.

Wild eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about her, two very bright, almost clear blue eyes floating, smiling, asking me about Green Swiss Chard. She was shopping with her grandfather. I was quite charmed by her and acted accordingly. I was worried about her age. She looked very young, like she could have been younger than one would expect and by far, but then she looked me directly in the eye and spoke with confidence, and had a kind of vampire charm to her, like maybe she was actually one-hundred and something. Long brown hair. I remember thinking that she looked eighteen, but could have been fifteen or even twenty four.

She asked me to help her find, ummm, sandwiches. Then I saw her smiling at me getting mushrooms, then a cucumber, and then she asked me to help her find balsamic vinegar, and then some strange type of cheese. After the vinegar, I knew she was into me and if I had of been the slightest bit prepared, I would have asked her for her number but I didn't expect her to come back to the department.

I had just finished Vonnegut's [I]Jailbird[/I] and I got thinking about the short story that Kilgore Trout wrote about Einstein getting into heaven and finding out all of the missed opportunities in the world. How just about any man had the chance to be a millionaire or to fall in love, but they missed it by a breath. I thought: If this girl comes near me again, I'm asking her.

Then, I turned the corner and there she was, wild eye smiling with her little index finger in front of her face, calling me over. I thought: You have no idea what you're getting into. And I went over, and she played her game where she asked for help to find something and I told her to follow me, I would help her find some strange type of cheese that I had no clue where to look for, and I said something and she mentioned being in court all morning and I asked why and she said she assaulted somebody, and I said for what? and she said for sleeping with her boyfriend. She said she was pregnant with his kid at the time and that she had a miscarriage, and that the other girl was also pregnant and she had a miscarriage. How did she say all of that on the way to the cheese, and why? Is that even possible.

It was the perfect opportunity to set up the question, though:

Fiend: So you're not still with him, then?
Wild Eyes: Noooo...
Fiend: Can I get your number, then?

How handy was it that she was holding a grocery list and a pen. I was convinced at this point that the girl who looked eighteen could no longer possibly be 15, and I figured she must be closer to my age (21). I didn't call her the next day because I was sick and didn't feel up to doing anything anyway, and then the next day I did call her, but it turns out she lives in a town twenty minutes away and I only remember pieces of our conversation:

Wild Eyes: How old are you?
Fiend: 21. You?
Wild Eyes: 18.

-

Wild Eyes: Do you have a car?
Fiend: No. I don't drive. Do you have a car?
Wild Eyes: No. You should get a car.
Fiend: I don't drive. I hate cars. I hate everything about cars.
Wild Eyes: haha, why?
Fiend: Because they kill the environment and...
Wild Eyes: Are you one of those environmentalist guys!?
Fiend: Yes. Yes, I am.
Wild Eyes: OMG. If you saw all the shit I littered today. We threw all of our Mcdonalds garbage out, (she goes on to name all of the containers. She must eat a lot).
Fiend: My friends litter excessively just to piss me off. I'm more worried that you eat at Mcdonalds?
Wild Eyes: I LOVE Mc'Donalds!
Fiend: You're a fiend.
Wild Eyes: What?
Fiend: I hate McDonalds.
Wild Eyes: What? Why?
Fiend: Because it's not food.
Wild Eyes: I eat McDonalds like every day.
Fiend: UGGGH. The last time I was at Mcdonalds was when I went with a friend. We got our food to the table, I looked at it, felt nauseous, felt like I was about to throw up, and then I left.
Wild Eyes: OMG! Are you one of those health freak guys.
Fiend: Pretty much. All I eat is cereal, eggs, and tuna.

-

Wild Eyes: Do you know Laura from where you work?
Fiend: I don't know. No.
Wild Eyes: She's in the meat department. Freckles, and...
Fiend: Yeah, I've seen her.
Wild Eyes: Have you talked to her?
Fiend: No.
Wild Eyes: What about the fat guy?
Fiend: The one you were talking to?
Wild Eyes: Yeah. My uncle. Do you know him?
Fiend: No.
Wild Eyes: You're a dork.
Fiend: Did you just call me a dork?
Wild Eyes: I'm just joking!

-

Wild Eyes: blablablabla
Fiend: Do you read?
Wild Eyes: Umm, you mean like, books?
Fiend: Ugh. Yes. Books.
Wild Eyes: If you give me a book, I'll read it.

-

The rhythm of the conversation ended up being pretty mellow. We concluded that we had nothing at all in common and were in fact complete opposites, she said I was cute, and I interrupted her a lot to ask her questions. I told her I'm determined to find some common ground.

-

Wild Eyes: Blablabla
Fiend: What's your favorite movie?
Wild Eyes: Ummm, I don't know. I like horror movies..comedies.
Fiend: Have you seen Pulp Fiction?
Wild Eyes: No.
Fiend: Fight Club?
Wild Eyes: No.
Fiend: You don't have a favorite movie?
Wild Eyes: Ummm, Slevin.
Fiend: Lucky Number Slevin?
Wild Eyes: Yeah.
Fiend: I hated that movie.
Fiend: Oh well, at least you didn't say The Notebook.
Wild Eyes: The Notebook was good! It made me cry.
Fiend: I haven't seen it.

She then told me a story about seeing The Notebook in a classroom and leaving because it made her cry.

-

She talked a lot. About how her tummy looks bigger at night (she's really skinny). About the six towns she's lived in. Her dad in AA. Her grandparents and how annoying they are to live with. Her miscarriage, doctors touching her. McDonalds. How her friend saw a fat gas station guy's penis. How she got kicked out of school and now goes to alternative school. About how she gets drunk every night.

-

Wild Eyes: Why are you so healthy!?
Fiend: I want to live to be 120.
Wild Eyes: I don't. I want to die before I'm fifty.
Fiend: Why?
Wild Eyes: If you're 120, your wife will die when she's 80 and you'll be alone.
Fiend: I'll get another wife. I'll have a forty year marriage left in me.
Wild Eyes: That's so mean-
Fiend: No it isn't.

-

Wild Eyes: Why are you so healthy!? (she said this at least three times)
Fiend: I want to live to be 120.
Wild Eyes: Do you smoke weed, at least?
Fiend: Every night.
Wild Eyes: I love you.
Fiend: .....

-

She asked me when I knew I was going to ask for her number. I told her the same thing I told you guys, minus the bit about Vonnegut. She confessed that she made up sandwiches on the spot. She did not end up buying a sandwich. She confessed that she didn't need mushrooms and already had cucumber, and that she knew where the vinegar was. But the cheese, she really did need. I was going to tell her that I made two copies of her phone number and put each copy in a different pocket because I was so scared of losing it. But I didn't. That's sweet as hell so I'm saving it for when we meet, which will be Monday.

[I]Cassandra.[/I][/QUOTE]

Quoted so it can't be deleted. Dan, I had a dream about you. Also, I'm worried this girl's going to break your heart. Use her. Your post was way too long. The dream I'll post here.

I can't remember how it started, though I do remember it relating to people from school. I was walking through the gates at the train station and I threw an orange at the dinner ladies who were checking our tickets. It really hurt her. Outside there was a guy from school advertising his website which had some stupid url like hahaha.something something, it was abbreviations and missing letters. There was another guy's name at the end.
From here something went weird until I was smoking weed, but it was this really luminescent green stuff that was more fibres than it was buds or leaf. Well I needed rolling papers and knew from looking at it that what I held was pretty toxic stuff, and I found my way up some stairs from an old house we used to live in and pay rent for and you were asleep in my old bedroom, and I was rooting through your parephenalia and this girl came up behind me, and I was being rude to her and there was a smile slowly creeping across your sleeping face, and I called her a fiend but you turned over and said it was a cheap shot. I brushed this off, and you didn't press further and instead offered your tools, but none of us had any tobacco, but you had a bong and we put this stuff in the bong pure and when we were walking out some older shady characters were stood around, one of whom was black, and I attempted to be cool saying, "Shit, if you boys want some, come - but unless you're smoking rocks everyminute of the day you better stay away." <--- not actual words, but when I said the smoking rocks bit the black guy seemed very enthusiastic like he wanted everyone to think he smoked rocks, he looked like a guy I know but it wasn't him, any way after that I think you quickly departed.

wow. ok,

1. nightrious, you are a genius - you know this, right?
2. she is trouble. absolute trouble.

Dude.

jane, exactly. TROUBLE.

I ain't sayin' she a gold digger Nightrious. But beware.

You're all too worried. He knows what he's getting into.

Nightrious, I say he has fun with her. I mean you're an intellegent 21 year old dude. You'll have your way with her for a bit, smoke some chron with her, finally get bored and move on. There's nothing wrong with it.

Frank, he just rattled on about the bitch for like eight novels-worth. He's already made sacrifices for her. Dude, she's going to break his heart, then he'll just be this sad dude playing blues.

[QUOTE=corellion;1101302]Frank, he just rattled on about the bitch for like eight novels-worth. He's already made sacrifices for her. Dude, she's going to break his heart, then he'll just be this sad dude playing blues.[/QUOTE]

Then like this heartbroke (me) mofo, he'll grow from it.

[QUOTE=corellion;1101202]
Quoted so it can't be deleted. Dan, I had a dream about you. Also, I'm worried this girl's going to break your heart. Use her. Your post was way too long. The dream I'll post here.

I can't remember how it started, though I do remember it relating to people from school. I was walking through the gates at the train station and I threw an orange at the dinner ladies who were checking our tickets. It really hurt her. Outside there was a guy from school advertising his website which had some stupid url like hahaha.something something, it was abbreviations and missing letters. There was another guy's name at the end.
From here something went weird until I was smoking weed, but it was this really luminescent green stuff that was more fibres than it was buds or leaf. Well I needed rolling papers and knew from looking at it that what I held was pretty toxic stuff, and I found my way up some stairs from an old house we used to live in and pay rent for and you were asleep in my old bedroom, and I was rooting through your parephenalia and this girl came up behind me, and I was being rude to her and there was a smile slowly creeping across your sleeping face, and I called her a fiend but you turned over and said it was a cheap shot. I brushed this off, and you didn't press further and instead offered your tools, but none of us had any tobacco, but you had a bong and we put this stuff in the bong pure and when we were walking out some older shady characters were stood around, one of whom was black, and I attempted to be cool saying, "Shit, if you boys want some, come - but unless you're smoking rocks everyminute of the day you better stay away." <--- not actual words, but when I said the smoking rocks bit the black guy seemed very enthusiastic like he wanted everyone to think he smoked rocks, he looked like a guy I know but it wasn't him, any way after that I think you quickly departed.[/QUOTE]
Why would I delete it? I don't think she's going to break my heart. I hope she does. What I'm afraid of the most is her falling in love with me.

[QUOTE=Thag;1101218]wow. ok,

1. nightrious, you are a genius - you know this, right?
2. she is trouble. absolute trouble.[/QUOTE]

1. Am I? Why?
2. She looks like a lot of fun.

[QUOTE=jane s.;1101219]Dude.[/QUOTE]

That's what I said. In my head.

[QUOTE=Smartazboy;1101246]You're all too worried. He knows what he's getting into.

Nightrious, I say he has fun with her. I mean you're an intellegent 21 year old dude. You'll have your way with her for a bit, smoke some chron with her, finally get bored and move on. There's nothing wrong with it.[/QUOTE]

Thank you, Frank.

[QUOTE=corellion;1101302]Frank, he just rattled on about the bitch for like eight novels-worth. He's already made sacrifices for her. Dude, she's going to break his heart, then he'll just be this sad dude playing blues.[/QUOTE]

You guys crack me up.

He defended himself! Nightrious is in love!

Ugh, gross.

1. i don't know. i like your writing. it's a cut above. maybe it's just that you are like me.
2. yeah, probably. i mean, have fun for sure. i'm just sayin.

I'm not trying to keep you all in suspense (if you're even interested) but rather, this thing has not quite developed. I might have missed out on telling you a very important aspect of all this: She lives twenty five minutes away and neither of us drive.

On Sunday, I was supposed to call her, and we were supposed to set up a date for monday when her grandfather was coming into town to get his blood checked, or something. He ended up not coming to town. On Sunday, I called her, and she didn't answer. I was pretty pissed off. She knew that I would call and she decided not to sit around the house all day waiting for me to call. Perhaps that shouldn't have pissed me off. It did.

I decided to be done with her. Why? I don't know. I assure you I had sufficient reason but Monday was forever ago. Monday, when I thought she was still coming into town, was the day we were supposed to go on a date. I wanted to take her to dinner. I was looking forward to it quite a bit and decided, on Monday, not to call her.

Some other interesting things happened on Monday. It was probably the worst day I've had all year. I'm not going to explain it. You all have jobs, you know how work can suck. Work sucked for me that day. Hard. And I fell down the stairs carrying a glass of orange juice as soon as I got home.

What troubled me throughout the day was that I wasn't calling Cassandra. I wanted to call her. Knowing her, having a relationship in development, these things put some optimism inside me. I like girls. I want to be a boyfriend, it's a part I've never gotten to play and I feel I would be good at it.

Not only did I not call her on Monday, I spent the entire day not calling her. I didn't call her in the living room, sitting there ripping up a piece of paper and throwing around crumpled balls. I didn't call her lying in bed, and I didn't call her at night, stoned, sitting in the weight room/weed room.

I was returned to the state of gloomy Nightricity that I have been enveloped in for years. I was simply Nightrious, once more, and I felt like a marlin that might rise above the water and see things so bright and warm and pleasant, only to sink again.

There may be an actual conversation in here somewhere.

That night, she called my brother's cell phone. He didn't answer because he didn't know the number. I haven't told him or anyone but you about Cassandra, because I'm a fiend like that. She knew my brother's phone number even though I didn't give it to her. It's a number I called her from. My brother will get his cell phone bill and see that somebody talked to somebody long distance for over an hour. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

And so it was the marlin inside me rose above the surface again, and this time I told myself: I'm not going back under. This was a lie. I belong down there.

After Monday, I was content to post in this thread a conclusion to all of this nonsense. I would say how she didn't answer on Sunday and how I don't think this girl is interested in me for anything other than sex and a good time. She all but invited herself to spend the night with me at my place the first time I talked to her. She talked about sex constantly, and about how she used to have sex with her boyfriend three times a day without a condom and didn't get pregnant, and then after they broke up they had sex once and she got pregnant. She had a miscarriage afterward.

Anyway.

I was content with the conclusion that what has happened here is this: My hotness has grown to a point where I'm going to have to learn some sort of slut-defense. I imagine guys like Phil and Bigshrimpn have learned their slut-defense years ago.

I wanted to post the above conclusion Monday morning, the day I spent not calling her. It would have ended with, "And so it was that I survived Hurricane Cassandra," or, "A girl that easy to get over can't be worth going after."

But then I got thinking about something Vidalia once said which I thought was wrong and was unable to argue with and came to accept, "What makes a girl a slut?"

The statement supposed that one's perception labels a girl a slut, which is true. Who is to say who or what a slut is? Is a slut confined to being only a slut? And can a girl or guy even possibly be a slut? A whore, yes. A slut? What makes a girl a slut? I still don't know. So how can I say Cassandra is one? And besides, I like her.

But "I'm pregnant" are the two scariest words I could ever possibly hear. I would never have sex without a condom. If she's pregnant and I'm the father, that's more responsibility than I can shuffle while remaining Nightrious. I stay committed while these mother fuckers babysitted. I'm not the smartest guy on the planet, but I'm dedicated. Sometimes I worry that's all I got. I don't put my dreams on the line for nobody.

(Vonnegut: You know why I don't have aids? Because I don't fuck around.)

So I called her again, anyway. We didn't talk long, which was good. I enjoyed talking to her. Optimism returned to me. I fantasized about us being together, about corny things. And then I started to fall a bit in love with the image of the single Nightrious. Should I really fall for the first good looking girl who hits on me?

I considered the situation logically. What do I like about this girl?

Her eyes, her hair. Her face

(Vonnegut: All writer's girlfriends have pretty faces. Somebody should look into that.)

The way she asks questions that are none of her business. The way she's completely open. The way her every motive is immediate fun and she ignores the future. I really like her laugh. I like her small tits. I like that she wants to fuck me.

Of course, these things I like are all connected in that one way: They are feminine traits. I couldn't argue with the logic once the facts were in front of me. The reason I like this girl is because she is a girl.

There is really nothing that makes me think this girl is specifically good for me, other than her being very good looking and young. And the reason I'm still talking and thinking about her is because I know I could fuck her and of course I want to, but this will all end badly. Smartazboy overestimates me. I want to be loved and if she fell in love with me, it would be hard to get out of that. If she got pregnant, my plans would be thwarted TO THE MAX, and at the very least I'm going to end up with herpes and I'm going to be distracted from my work and meanwhile, a girl that I actually have something in common with might come along and we'll miss out on each other. Besides, I'm fucking moving to a different city in January.

I worry that anything is possible at this point, but I don't think I'll see her again.

Don't worry so much Night, let it flow a bit more, seriously.

(I gotta go maybe PM?)

At a urinal yesterday

Weird kid:"Yo nick, how was Dr. Shu's class today?"
Me: "You're not seriously talking are you?"
WK: "No...I forgot the rule."

Damn right he forgot the rule. You don't talk to random people while at a urinal. Seriously, you guys know not to do this right?

[QUOTE=Mricpx;1105873]At a urinal yesterday

Weird kid:"Yo nick, how was Dr. Shu's class today?"
Me: "You're not seriously talking are you?"
WK: "No...I forgot the rule."

Damn right he forgot the rule. You don't talk to random people while at a urinal. Seriously, you guys know not to do this right?[/QUOTE]

I don't like it when people talk to me either, but from what I've heard the general rule is that you can only talk to another guy in the men's room if they are doing the same thing you are. So if you are on the shitter, you can't talk to someone washing their hands or using the urinal. But if you are both pissing, then it's supposedly okay.

But personally, I can't stand people who talk in the men's room. It fucking echoes. There's one guy who whistles while pissing like some people who sing in the shower. Now that's freakin' creepy.

The other night whilst at work, I overheard the slightest bit of a conversation between a middle-aged woman and what sounded like a man:
"You just sit there, trying to hook up with other people's children! You disgust me!"

[QUOTE=Nightrious;1105818] I'm not trying to keep you all in suspense (if you're even interested) but rather, this thing has not quite developed. I might have missed out on telling you a very important aspect of all this: She lives twenty five minutes away and neither of us drive.

On Sunday, I was supposed to call her, and we were supposed to set up a date for monday when her grandfather was coming into town to get his blood checked, or something. He ended up not coming to town. On Sunday, I called her, and she didn't answer. I was pretty pissed off. She knew that I would call and she decided not to sit around the house all day waiting for me to call. Perhaps that shouldn't have pissed me off. It did.

I decided to be done with her. Why? I don't know. I assure you I had sufficient reason but Monday was forever ago. Monday, when I thought she was still coming into town, was the day we were supposed to go on a date. I wanted to take her to dinner. I was looking forward to it quite a bit and decided, on Monday, not to call her.

Some other interesting things happened on Monday. It was probably the worst day I've had all year. I'm not going to explain it. You all have jobs, you know how work can suck. Work sucked for me that day. Hard. And I fell down the stairs carrying a glass of orange juice as soon as I got home.

What troubled me throughout the day was that I wasn't calling Cassandra. I wanted to call her. Knowing her, having a relationship in development, these things put some optimism inside me. I like girls. I want to be a boyfriend, it's a part I've never gotten to play and I feel I would be good at it.

Not only did I not call her on Monday, I spent the entire day not calling her. I didn't call her in the living room, sitting there ripping up a piece of paper and throwing around crumpled balls. I didn't call her lying in bed, and I didn't call her at night, stoned, sitting in the weight room/weed room.

I was returned to the state of gloomy Nightricity that I have been enveloped in for years. I was simply Nightrious, once more, and I felt like a marlin that might rise above the water and see things so bright and warm and pleasant, only to sink again.

There may be an actual conversation in here somewhere.

That night, she called my brother's cell phone. He didn't answer because he didn't know the number. I haven't told him or anyone but you about Cassandra, because I'm a fiend like that. She knew my brother's phone number even though I didn't give it to her. It's a number I called her from. My brother will get his cell phone bill and see that somebody talked to somebody long distance for over an hour. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

And so it was the marlin inside me rose above the surface again, and this time I told myself: I'm not going back under. This was a lie. I belong down there.

After Monday, I was content to post in this thread a conclusion to all of this nonsense. I would say how she didn't answer on Sunday and how I don't think this girl is interested in me for anything other than sex and a good time. She all but invited herself to spend the night with me at my place the first time I talked to her. She talked about sex constantly, and about how she used to have sex with her boyfriend three times a day without a condom and didn't get pregnant, and then after they broke up they had sex once and she got pregnant. She had a miscarriage afterward.

Anyway.

I was content with the conclusion that what has happened here is this: My hotness has grown to a point where I'm going to have to learn some sort of slut-defense. I imagine guys like Phil and Bigshrimpn have learned their slut-defense years ago.

I wanted to post the above conclusion Monday morning, the day I spent not calling her. It would have ended with, "And so it was that I survived Hurricane Cassandra," or, "A girl that easy to get over can't be worth going after."

But then I got thinking about something Vidalia once said which I thought was wrong and was unable to argue with and came to accept, "What makes a girl a slut?"

The statement supposed that one's perception labels a girl a slut, which is true. Who is to say who or what a slut is? Is a slut confined to being only a slut? And can a girl or guy even possibly be a slut? A whore, yes. A slut? What makes a girl a slut? I still don't know. So how can I say Cassandra is one? And besides, I like her.

But "I'm pregnant" are the two scariest words I could ever possibly hear. I would never have sex without a condom. If she's pregnant and I'm the father, that's more responsibility than I can shuffle while remaining Nightrious. I stay committed while these mother fuckers babysitted. I'm not the smartest guy on the planet, but I'm dedicated. Sometimes I worry that's all I got. I don't put my dreams on the line for nobody.

(Vonnegut: You know why I don't have aids? Because I don't fuck around.)

So I called her again, anyway. We didn't talk long, which was good. I enjoyed talking to her. Optimism returned to me. I fantasized about us being together, about corny things. And then I started to fall a bit in love with the image of the single Nightrious. Should I really fall for the first good looking girl who hits on me?

I considered the situation logically. What do I like about this girl?

Her eyes, her hair. Her face

(Vonnegut: All writer's girlfriends have pretty faces. Somebody should look into that.)

The way she asks questions that are none of her business. The way she's completely open. The way her every motive is immediate fun and she ignores the future. I really like her laugh. I like her small tits. I like that she wants to fuck me.

Of course, these things I like are all connected in that one way: They are feminine traits. I couldn't argue with the logic once the facts were in front of me. The reason I like this girl is because she is a girl.

There is really nothing that makes me think this girl is specifically good for me, other than her being very good looking and young. And the reason I'm still talking and thinking about her is because I know I could fuck her and of course I want to, but this will all end badly. Smartazboy overestimates me. I want to be loved and if she fell in love with me, it would be hard to get out of that. If she got pregnant, my plans would be thwarted TO THE MAX, and at the very least I'm going to end up with herpes and I'm going to be distracted from my work and meanwhile, a girl that I actually have something in common with might come along and we'll miss out on each other. Besides, I'm fucking moving to a different city in January.

I worry that anything is possible at this point, but I don't think I'll see her again.[/QUOTE]

Well, shit man, I didn't know you were looking for more than just a good time. I never took you for a "romantic" for a lack of a better word. I guess I didn't really get how into her you were, but I guess I should have known by you just posting this much about her, huh? I think you are overthinking things.

I won't tell you that if you don't try, nothing will happen, because you know that. Yeah, you might miss out on a girl that you have something in common with, but you can't wait for her to come along. Not too long anyways. The longer you wait, the less time you have to experience what it is to be in a relationship. Fantasizing about the future is natural, conry or not. That's what happens when you feel the way you do about this chick. Are you still talking to her?

Who?

[QUOTE=corellion;1101302]Frank, he just rattled on about the bitch for like eight novels-worth. [/QUOTE]

Where were you when I wrote three paragraphs about a guy I saw in a restaurant who was really good at eating spaghetti?

Where in the hell do you work? This is hysterical. I might just have to use it...in something.

Unfortunately, I have no actual conversations to post. I can't deal with the menial bullshit that other people talk about, so I plug in the ol' iPod and forget that I am surrounded by lice.

[QUOTE=Nightrious;1109234]Who?[/QUOTE]

That's the spirit.

[QUOTE=Nightrious;1109235]Where were you when I wrote three paragraphs about a guy I saw in a restaurant who was really good at eating spaghetti?[/QUOTE]

Fret none, Corr think he knows everything. Till it happens to him.

I just got out of the shower, hank comes runnin in:

h: mommy what you doin, take a shower

me: yup, all done, all clean

h: I can see your belly and your boobs

me: yup I'm naked

h: I don't like your crotch!

me: well don't look at me then! I didn't invite you in here!

h: I don't wanna see your crotch!

me: don't look!

h: I'm crazy, I'm sayin bad words

hank runs off squealin

"I'm crazy, I'm sayin bad words"

Haha!

My friend yelling from the bathroom: Get OUT of me!
Me from the other room: What? Are you talking to...
Friend: (Sound of vomiting ensues)
Me: ...oh.