You Make Me Want to Be A Bigger Bitch

17 Sep

Ah, the sweet sweet joys of womanhood.  There are far too many to count: we have jubblies, we can grow other human beings inside our own bodies, we can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, we can even be nominees for the Vice President of the United States.  Then there’s the shitty shit part: the monthly cycle.  I’ve written in the past about the horrors of PMS, and last monthI mentioned that I was going to try something new to curb the horrocious (that would be horrible and atrocious) symptoms of PMS: Premcal.

I’m happy to report that I managed to make it through the past few days without eating the world, suffering from exhausting, or being too bloated to fit into my own clothes.  Now, if only we could take care of the whole “being a huge bitch thing.”  So far, Premcal has done squat to fix that.

Kids, refill your drinks before you keep going.  This is a long, juicy story.  One that will explain all about the truth behind the Peen Counter on the top right hand corner of this blog AND includes previously untold stories of 3D.

Ready?  Here we go…

I’ve been keeping something from you.  A big juicy secret.  I’ve been knocking boots with 3D for the past few weeks.  I know, I know, I’m a fat whore.  What can I say?

Long story short: a friend of mine passed away about a month ago.  The day I went to the funeral, I got a little needy.  I made a bad decision (which I knew at the time), and told 3D that he could take me out as long as he did not mention a single word about feelings.  The plan was that we’d meet out for drink and a movie.  I even drove separately because I knew if I met him at his house, then I’d end up on my back.  5 minutes into the evening, I knew I was going home with him.

The shenanigans continued for a few weeks.  I’d mount see him once or twice a week, we’d email, and possibly exchange a few phone calls.  He thought this was all going to lead to us getting back together, even though I had made it clear that we were not.

Fast forward to last Friday.  We were on the phone talking and suddenly he blurted out, “Do you like me?”  The PMS got a hold of him and I yelled at him and told him he was needy and insecure and he didn’t listen and I was hanging up and I would let him know when I was ready to have sex talk with him.  Click.  I hung up.  10 minutes later, the phone rang.  His highness, King Let’s Work This Out was on the phone and wanted to talk it out.  I told him no, that he was clearly disrespecting that I had told him I didn’t want to talk, and he wasn’t listening.  “Yeah, but…” he said.  Yeah, but nothing.  He wasn’t listening.  I told him I’d call him when I wasn’t mad at him, and then I hung up the phone.

Over the next few days, he called me several times-I didn’t answer, and he sent me text messages-which went ignored. 

Then it all came to a head on Monday.  Monday morning he sent me an email telling me that he didn’t know why I was mad at him and could we just work it out and get past it because he didn’t want to talk about feelings anymore.  Well, my PMS bitchy self grew her 2 horns and a tail and fired back the following response:

You have got to be kidding me. Really. It absolutely infuriates me that you keep doing this. I told you that I didn’t want to talk to you, and for some reason, you think that several text messages, phone calls, and an email would be okay. You don’t listen, and you’re disrespectful of what I’ve told you I wanted.

I don’t freaking want to talk. Please don’t email me, text me or call me. I told you that I will let you know when I’m ready to talk to you.

Shockingly, he hasn’t called, emailed, or text messaged me since I sent the email.  Effective?  Yes.  Bitchy?  Hells yes.  The message seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.  Now that I reread it, I feel like the bitchiest bitch in the world.  I now imagine him rocking himself in his cubicle as the tears stream down his cheeks.  Hopefully, he managed to stop his crying and grow a freaking pair.

After all, at some point, I’m gonna have to reset that peen counter.

Perhaps next month my inner bitch won’t be quite as bitchy.  Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens…

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12 Responses to “You Make Me Want to Be A Bigger Bitch”

  1. Amadeo September 17, 2008 at 8:57 pm #

    Effective is a good thing. If you feel bad about saying it…should I feel bad about laughing at it.

    No, no, you have no reason to feel bad.

    Instead, laugh at this: about 15 seconds after I posted, he saw me on gmail and started IMing me. Wants to know if I want to get together. Seriously? -CS

  2. Bob Dobalina September 17, 2008 at 11:18 pm #

    Really, it’s the only way he was going to get the message. You could have been a lot more harsh.

    What’s also funny? I ALSO saw you on Gmail for a minute, so now I feel all creepy that I was seeing you when he was stalking you. Yikes. I thought he was doing good by restraining himself.. but guess not. Oy. I don’t understand people like that. Don’t they have that little neurotic voice in their head telling them “don’t do that,, she said she doesn’t want to talk to you, quit embarrassing yourself”?

    I’m curious though.. did you respond to his IM with more harsh or did you just ignore it?

    You see, but you could have IMed me and it wouldn’t have been stalking. We could have had a perfectly delightful conversation. He, on the otherhand, doesn’t know when to call it quits.

    I did not respond. Surprisingly, he emailed me today asking if we could talk yet. -CS

  3. Mike September 18, 2008 at 10:38 am #

    That’s one way to end a relationship.

    Technically, it was already over. -CS

  4. Desiree September 18, 2008 at 11:34 am #

    Dude, is he a chick or what?!

    Well, he doesn’t have girl parts. That the hell’s for sure. -CS

  5. Cinnkitty September 18, 2008 at 11:49 am #

    Wow, 3D really is one of those “Sensitive” guys, huh? the problem is, there’s a fine line between a guy being sensitive and a guy being a fucking woman! Sounds like 3D is hitting “feminine” proportions, whereas you are being my like a guy.

    It’s kind of funny, in a “thank god, i’m not going through that” kind of way. 🙂

    It’s traumatizing. I might have nightmares from the whole thing. -CS

  6. Mrs. Flabby and Unfabulous September 18, 2008 at 2:33 pm #

    maybe you should stop rubbing jubblies with him to prevent any confusion that you actually like him?

    just a thought.

    Or keep rubbing jubblies and know that he will take that as a sign that you are somehow into him.

    *shrug*
    *hugs*

    I can’t understand what you say when you mumble like that.

    Besides, I just want him to show me a sign that he’s into me. Literally, not figuratively. -CS

  7. red September 18, 2008 at 6:55 pm #

    I left a comment yesterday, and it disappeared. I referenced The Pretenders and everything! But basically, I was just expressing support that you’ll get this figured out.

    Are you sure you left it?? I would never delete one of your comments!! -CS

  8. Jenna September 19, 2008 at 9:37 am #

    I’m very much a fan of the knocking of boots, but I can’t say that this amount of drama is worth it. Lord almighty, what a needy twit. He’d drive me straight out of my mind. Good luck!

    If only he had a tragic body and was a terrible lay, it would all be so much easier! -CS

  9. pistols at dawn September 19, 2008 at 1:40 pm #

    The only reason to stop effing people is that all the other crap isn’t worth it. Cost/friends with benefits analysis time, my dear: I think you’ll see the scale tipping inevitably toward cost. It’s not just sex if he’s wanting something more. Since he can’t do that, neither of you’s really getting what you want if you continue.

    He’s wanting to steal my soul and will to live. The only f’ing that will occur from here on out is him f’ing himself. -CS

  10. Red September 19, 2008 at 1:56 pm #

    I know you wouldn’t. I meant it disappeared due to some malfunction my computer suffered in the posting process.

    Aha! Now I understand everything. -CS

  11. kristina September 23, 2008 at 3:30 pm #

    Just to refer back to the beginning of your post – pregnancy is also a cure for PMS…

    Yeah, but that may be worse. I’ve seen how horribly sick some people get. -CS

  12. cocktailsattiffanys November 15, 2010 at 2:26 pm #

    Haha wow I love your response e-mail. You gotta do what you gotta do!

    -L

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