Friday, March 6, 2009

Mama Said it Would be Days Like This

While [on Facebook] trying to finish another midterm I saw that The Smoker was online. When I saw his name the first thing I thought was "I think I hate him..."

Then, That Boy got on. I Blackberry'd Mr. GQ and he was all for FB chatting him. Torn, I turned to the trusty radio game. I asked "Should I FB chat him?" R. Kelly's "Bump and Grind" came on.

This can't be life.

But I chatted him up. Um, he didn't respond.

For real, though, life cannot be this way.

I have got too many damn love/sex/slow jam songs on my Itunes. That must be it. Now I must go slink back over to Facebook and log off.

Update: oh, never mind. He responded and I didn't see. *oops my bad-type giggle*

Honestly. I talk shit about my friend Mr. GQ being melodramatic as all get out but truth be told I'm the one having Dramatic Cunt Fallouts at the first sign of disorder and then have to backtrack and call off the hounds later.

He's not saying much...I mean, he is but he ain't, if you know what I he's...dry...maybe he's just quiet. Oh hell I can't do quiet boys because I seem loud in comparison which I am sure is grating. Oh, no. He just wrote that he doesn't really drink. We have a man down affair.

I...don't think this is working. Maybe it's the medium but our conversation feels very forced. Or maybe someone has a slow computer connection. Facebook caking/caking in general used to be fun and now it's too much work like there's too much at stake, too much to read into.

Update: end conversation. I don't see anything becoming of this, especially if I have to keep initiating contact. At best he just doesn't like talking via Internets, at worst he's not a conversationalist/not into me at all/thinks I'm an alcoholic. He hardly asked any questions; it was like pulling teeth and I got a dual-degree in Pimpology and Hustlemonics, not Dentistry (gross. As if). Methinks I'm over it.

Can someone find me a mail-order husband?

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