Fuckboys Everywhere

Is anyone else being overrun with fuckboys? I think we need a vaccination or some sort of “Fuckboy Off” spray to get rid of them. If it’s not one fuckboy, it’s twenty. They’re like roaches, once one finds you, THEY ALL COME RUNNING.

I don’t like roaches and I don’t like fuckboys.

In fact, they’re driving me fucking nuts.

“I wait see pic of you not on facebook.” –Ok, wait? What? Fuck off, fuckboy. You aren’t getting nudes from me today or ever. Bye.

“What kinda food you like?” –not your dick, if that’s what you wanna know.

“I’m a nerd with a massive cock who likes Pokemon.” –haha ok, go poke-ye-man somewhere else, fuckboy. It’s probably not even 2 inches hard. Puh-leaze.

“Do you cuddle in your free time?” –Not with you. Bye.

“Lemme see you shower.” –Perv. Bye.

“What does that mouth do?” –bites your dick. Wanna see? I like to make it bleed.

These are just a few of my most recent encounters. What the fuck is going on? Why are they so desperate lately? Good grief. I’m about to release maniac Felicity on them all.

And she ain’t a nice bitch.

Feelings and shit.

I haven’t blogged other than my Shit Men Say series in quite some time. I’ve been busy and shit, but I’m not giving excuses. I know everyone missed me and I apologize for it.

Anywho, I wanted to talk about something semi-serious. I know, I’m fucking shocked, too, but here it goes.

What emotion or desire fuels you? 

Weird question, right? Here’s some backstory. I was listening to my friend freak out about this guy she was seeing. He was looking for a wife, she was looking for a relationship, but not necessarily ready to think far enough ahead to wifey status. I told her it was because she was fueled by ambition, her career is much more important to her than a marriage, and he was fueled by love, he wanted the white picket fence and shit. They would NEVER work out their issues, IMHO, because they clearly wanted different things out of life. She’s on the fast track to being an executive in her 30s and he’s content with not being as successful.

They’re fueled by different emotions.

She’ll never understand how he can’t have the same ambitions. He’ll never understand how she can’t want love as badly as he does. After listening to her talk for an hour, it was obvious they both felt very strongly about their respective emotions and change wasn’t going to happen.

I proposed my assessment of the situation and she was shocked. She hadn’t thought of it the way I did. But you know what? It made sense.

So I want to know, do you think people with two completely different emotions fueling them can be together? Or do they need to have some degree of commonness in order to live in harmony?

What fuels you?

Date Night, Fright Night 2/26/16

Well, it’s Friday night and that generally means date night. I’ll admit I do have an okcupid dating profile. I’ve had the paid ones in the past, but I figure, why pay for more creepy messages than not? I’ll probably have the same luck on both, so here we are.

At 6 p.m., I met my date at Blackburn park. We decided to meet there and then he drive us to the destination, that I still didn’t know of at this time, and around for the date. Have I mentioned I hate driving in Atlanta? I purposely got my apartment close to everything necessary for my survival so I wouldn’t have to drive much.

I seriously hate it.

Forty minutes after leaving and cussing at 1/3 of the town, I arrived and got out to wait for…we’ll call him Jim. To wait for Jim. He’d told me his car was black, so I kept my eye out for a black vehicle entering. The guy is supposed to be a 37 year old accountant, so I admit I was looking for a nicer looking car.

Boy, was I wrong. Or he lied. Probably both.

A beat up Chevy pulled in with the bumpers hanging on with duct tape.

You read that right, duct tape.

Now, I get it. It’s the south and he’s a man. Duct tape fixes everything, but I don’t feel comfortable getting in a car held together by duct tape. He parked beside me and I saw the windshield wipers also had a little tape at the ends. What else had he taped together?

“Felicity?” the man asked. He closed the door, revealing himself. He looked old, people. Older than 37.

“Jim?” I replied back as my mind raced. How could I get out of this? He was at least 60, not even joking.

“You. Are. Beautiful.” When he grinned I felt a chill run down my spine.

“And you look a little different than your pics, Jim.”

He smirked and glanced around. “Yeah, that was nephew.”

“Ah.” I pursed my lips and nodded. I was angry. I hate being lied to. “Well, I think this is over.”

“What, no! You’re so beautiful. I’d love to show you how good of a time an old man like me could be.”

I held my hand out to stop his approach. In my purse, my hand grabbed the mace I had handy in case things had gone south. “Yeah, that’s gonna be a no. You’re old enough to be my father and it’s too creepy for me. I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

His expression turned sour. “All you bitches run away when you see me! I’m only 68! A man still needs loving.”

I backed away to my door, then hopped in and locked the doors. Thank God for all the lights in this parking lot. I sped off, but I saw him in the rearview mirror shaking his fists and screaming in my direction.

And that’s why I’m home at 9:30 on a Friday night. Did you have a good night?