There's Only Two Types Of Guys Out There: The Ones That Can Hang With Me, And The Ones That Are Scared

Men. Are. Idiots.

That's really all I can say.

No, actually, I can say a little more. I knew the asshat I was talking to was, well, an asshat, but I wasn't aware of the depths of the asshattery. I just got moralized and preached to for, like, the last hour about my job and how it's "taking such a mental toll on me" and was pretty much flat-out called a whore. Then, I basically told him he had no idea what he was talking about and that he was being incredibly rude and condescending. It was the nicest way I could think of to say back the fuck up.

So then, I get told I've had a shitty attitude toward him all week because of work. Uh, no. I've had a shitty attitude toward you all week because YOU GET ON MY NERVES, but I was doing my best to keep an open mind. So I stopped talking, but you know these types can never just let anything go. He starts going on and on about how he was only trying to help me because he was concerned (*vomit*) and that he was sick of women biting his hand every time he reached out.

So I went bitch on him. I was like, "Uh, I don't recall asking for your help," LOL.

Boy, that set him off. I just sat there and watched while he flipped the hell out. At that point, it was no longer insulting, but HILARIOUS. Finally, he flounced off, and Fangbunny and I got a good laugh out of his "Well, I see I'm not needed HERE, so GOOD-NIGHT!" flounce.

Thank God I had my suspicions confirmed that he was a total douche before we met and before he found out where I lived.

Ok, men. Let that be a lesson to you. When you offend a bitch, you don't keep on. You say you're sorry and back the hell off. Also, how egotistic do you have to be to blame my mood on my work rather than on yourself? "Well, it couldn't possibly be ME because I'm perfect in every way, so let's see here, what else could it be?"

Idiot. *Eyeroll*

Of course, if he couldn't handle my very cordial brush-off, he couldn't have handled me when I was really in a rage. Or even when I was just in one of those perverse moods when I can't help but poke the sleeping bear. Good to know.

He is now blocked and will trouble me no more. :D


Speaking of poking the sleeping bear...this is one of my (many) failings. But sometimes...I can't help it. I just CAN'T. It's perverse, but sometimes, I really just love pushing someone right to the edge--poke...poke...poke--then withdrawing right as they're about to lose it. Then, of course, I wait a few minutes and give them a healthy shove off the precipice because I CAN'T FUCKING HELP IT.

Sometimes, I'm a drama queen. Deal with it.

Plus, let's be real, there are some people, men usually, who are SO FUCKING SEXY when they're angry. *Fans self*

And this is why I can't have respect for someone I'm not a little afraid of.

Yes, I'm fucked up.


Onto more serious matters. Work's doing better. I went and dropped the rent check off today. Going to my parents' next weekend to get my prescriptions filled. I'm still letting the draft of the email set and trying not to think too much about it. My plan is to go back to it tomorrow night.

I had 12 glorious hours of sleep last night after taking that sleeping pill, so I'm not particularly tired right now, but I think I'm going to try to lay down, anyway, because my back and hip hurt.


Also? Anthem. :)