Wednesday, September 2, 2009

When Pills Aren't Enough Sessions...#1

here is the first entry on my blog from a fellow blogger who shall remain nameless and needs to vent a bit. more to come, I'm sure ;)
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Nothing but a Hound-Dog

...or make that horn-dog.

So, about a month ago my somewhat-of-a-boyfriend dumped me. Actually, it went something like this:

Him: I'm confused.

Me: Then we should probably not see or talk to each other for a while until you have time to think about it.

Him: Hmmm.

That week I get an email: "..I've been thinking about you a lot and would like to see you. I hope you feel the same."

"Ok", says I. Did I mention I am really dumb?

So we meet for a 'talk', and although I knew what to expect, there was NO WAY IN HELL I was going to let him get off that easy without first taking me to IKEA and then spending three hours putting the crap together for me. I mean, he's the one with the car...and the issues - but that's for another post. One with rum.

At step 35 of the 46-step process, we start the "talk".

Him: So, where so you think we are right now?

Me: Well, I think we broke up the last time we talked, but then you asked to meet me, so now I'm confused again.

Him: Well, you are right. We did break up. But more specifically, I broke up with you.

Blink.

Blink blink.

OH NO HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT, especially since I was the one who told him to STOP CALLING ME AND THINK ABOUT WHAT HE WANTED.

Dumbass.

After doing the only mature thing I could think of (considering he was in the middle of my last IKEA thingy) and throwing his toothbrush in the toilet, he finished putting the furniture together and we said our goodbyes. A solid, mature goodbye. And I haven't seen him since.

Except, now I am horny. VERY, VERY HORNY. Did I mention I am horny?

Everywhere I turn sex is staring me in the face. In books. On the TV. In movies. At the bus stop (seriously dudes, get a room). And now, I am THIS CLOSE to making a booty call. And I know that if my sister EVER found out that she would tear so many strips off me I would look like some sort of walking piece of bacon. I love bacon, by the way. Peameal bacon, specifically. Yum yum.

Sorry, tangent. But mama needs some lovin'. Sex. GOOD SEX. SEX, SEX, SEX. And he was SO good in bed. Did I mention I am horny?

I mean, I've taking up knitting for goodness sakes. KNITTING! To try and get my mind off sex! WTF?

Unfortunately there is no pill for this. Until there is, I'll continue trying to make the fucking disaster of a scarf (or maybe it's a lens cleaner), and watching episodes of True Blood...because vampires seem to have an incredible sex life.

Le sigh.

8 comments:

irreverent momma said...

oh girl, knitting?

Holly said...

Knitting does NOT replace the peen. Get yourself to a shop and buy a new 'friend'. Then find yourself a new guy to make happy time with.

Guys are so dumb. Good call on making him finish the Ikea assembly. That was totally worth the pain-in-the-ass of his presence.

Jenny Grace said...

I'm seriously lacking in the sex department. LIKE DESPERATELY SERIOUSLY LACKING.

Anonymous said...

Please "buy" a friend......if anything knitting will make you think of all the tanlged LOVE knots you can get yourself into...

Anonymous said...

Screw knitting! Take up a hobby called 'Going out drinking with friends, looking hot, and FLIRTING' :) Guarantee it will be much more satisfying. :)

Chibi said...

I vote for combining the two: buy yourself a BOB (battery-operated boyfriend), and then knit him little vibe cozies. Well, if you can put him down long enough... *evil grin*

Anonymous said...

You really need a new hobby and a new 'friend' too. Failing that choc and running (at different times) may help.

Unknown said...

I'm with Mox. Can I PLEASE know who you are? kay(at)chainsofyesterday(dot)com
And I'm sorry, but every female over the age of 18 should own a BOB, regardless of whether they're single or with someone.
The added bonus to that is that when you're done, BOB goes back in the drawer until you take him out again :)