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In total, I’ve dated six to seven guys over the past five years, only one of which I actually liked. In the last year and a half, I’ve pretty much just become generally asexual, losing what little faith in the Y chromosome I had left.
So, imagine my shock when suddenly I turn batshit coocoo over some lame ass kid who wouldn’t know a good sense of style if it did a roundhouse kick right to his dangly bits.
Up until this point in my life, I had the utmost respect for women and the double x chromosome. Now I realise that feminism is bullshit and we’ll bow to any man that makes our chest ache. I literally try and smell him whenever he leans back in his seat, which is not only distressful for him if he ever found out, but very fucking stressful for me. Meg Nogay does not faun or sniff men and she most certainly does not flirt. Yet here I am, fingering my hair and talking dumb. (That’s an entire other contention; Why do women feel that acting dumb will somehow garner men’s attraction? It’s obviously biological, because I can’t fucking stop it. I’ve never giggled so much in my life and it’s very fucking disturbing.)
This is the reason I don’t drink; When I drink and get totally fucked, my brain splits into two different systems. The front of my mind, the part that controls what I do and say, is completely drunk, horny, and having the best time of her life. The back part of my mind, the conscious one, is yelling and screaming, trying to slap the front mind into submission and wincing in horror as she doesn’t listen, sticking her hands down that one guy’s pants for no fucking reason before throwing herself to the concrete ground and waving her arms because it feels nice.
That’s how I feel right now. The front mind is drooling and gagging over this worthless piece of male, searching her closet for the tightest clothes she has, and the back mind is screaming, waving red flags and sobbing, wondering when her self-respect jumped out the fucking window and where the hell she can find some more before she ends up killing herself.
This is the worst point in my life to have quit smoking.
[Pointless blog has a point: ↓]
La Roux, which I totally thought was a one-girl get up, is actually a duo. An awesome duo. From England. Apparently they are influenced by Depeche Mode, but it doesn’t shine through in their music, otherwise I wouldn’t like it.
Here, have a video:
La Roux – Bulletproof
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La Roux – In For the Kill
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La Roux – Tigerlilly
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Meg grew up on an Amish farm in Iowa. She raised cows and horses and chickens until one day during Rumschpringe she discovered the internet. Now she spends most of her time wasting away on the web. Her favourite element is Bismuth, because its half-life is six times longer than the estimated age of the universe and it's pretty.