Stupidity and Other Things

Hey I found my way back!

I even managed to find a window to type in that is bigger (not by a lot) so I can see more of what I’ve typed… progress?  I’ll hold judgement on that one because I hate to be optimistic…. why?  Every time I am… I get shot down, so I tend to keep my head down these days… the old axiom I guess… if you expect the best of people, when they let you down… you’re disappointed, but if you expect the worst and get it… you’re not surprised, and if you get better than the worst? … you’re delightfully surprised.

I’ll stick with that for now… it’s not nearly as depressing as reality has proven to be.

I’ve been dealing with cheap-ass stupid people for two days.  I’ve got to find me another job.

Don’t get me wrong.  I like this job… except for the stupid people.

The only depressing thing used to be watching all the happy people walking by two by two because they only served to remind me that I don’t have anyone.  I didn’t (and still don’t) see a difference between them and me.  I see some ugly, fat, obnoxious woman with kids and husband in tow and wonder what the Hell was the attraction, and why can’t I find some guy who thinks I’m worth knowing?

It’s not like I have a neon sign over my head that says “Enter at your own risk.”

I know you find that hard to believe after some of what I’ve written, but here I’m being ME, not sugar-coating my thoughts… not being “politically correct,” or painting on a smile to make others at ease… I’m just being me and if you don’t like it…. don’t fucking read what I type!

I see gorgeous people walking by too, and that doesn’t upset me nearly as much because I can see that they’re two shallow people only interested in how good they look together…. that I get… and I fear for the world when I think about it too much.

I see a gorgeous guy with a plain woman and wonder the same thing. I see a gorgeous woman with a plain guy and think he must be great in bed or rich or something.

I mean, these are the types of people who others try to emulate… like young girls becoming anorexic or bulemic because if you’re not a size 2 you’re fat and unpopular… like indoctrinating young girls subconsciously into believing Cinderella stories and knights in shining armour and shit like that… only it’s far more pervasive than that… it’s become the standard, and it’s detrimental in the long run — to the young girls, and to our culture.

Sometimes I feel as though I’m the only real person on the planet.  I’m surrounded by shallow people who ask, “How’re you today?”  They don’t want the truth…. they want to hear, “Great, and you?”  Even when things aren’t great…. and if you try to say how rotten you are?  They make excuses and walk away because they don’t want to deal with anything emotionally uncomfortable.

I don’t know about you, but I have ONE friend, and many, many acquaintances…. my definitions are probably way different than yours though.  To me a friend is someone you can be yourself with… someone with whom you don’t have to paint on the smile if you don’t feel a smile… someone you can go to and vent if you need to vent. Someone you don’t have to be on guard around all the time… for fear you’ll say or do something that will be taken the wrong way.

An aquaintance is someone who’s name you know. Someone with whom you might spend a few minutes making meaningless chit chat with because it’s in your best interest… co-workers, clients, that sort of person.

I have one friend, and a couple of people who claim to be my friend, but who really don’t know me, and don’t get me, even though I’ve tried to be honest with…

For instance, my landlady, who is always willing to listen, only she really doesn’t. She used to ask me about things, and at one point I was honest with her… telling her about dating problems I had (and other things), and she seemed to listen…. note the “seemed” in that sentence. She tried to be helpful, suggesting that maybe I should change… lose weight… change my hair colour/style, wear cosmetics, etc…. the problem with that is the person the advice was coming from. She’s even bigger than I used to be…. weighs in at nearly 300 pounds, wears filthy, torn, smelly clothes. She’s always late, NEVER has her act together in any way.. forgetting her phone, her car keys, her wallet.

She does have one thing I don’t have, and that’s M cup size tits.


She also has not one, not two, but three boyfriends.

Has to be the tits.

Now, I keep reminding myself that I’ve met them all… even had sex with one of them, and flirted regularly with another — unsuccessfully.

The one I had sex with I wouldn’t repeat the act with. He’s nice enough in a strange way, but there are things I just can’t wrap my brain around. For instance, he’s a tree-hugging, vegan, bike-riding, luddite who’s always going off on the state of the planet… reducing your carbon footprint…. connecting with people in person…. that sort of thing. There’s nothing wrong with that really, except for the fact that he’s a hypocrite because he is a computer IT specialist. He makes databases and websites and such for people he mocks and judges…. In my book, that makes him a hypocrite… Also, in my humble opinion, most vegas are hypocrites anyway… I mean, you don’t eat meat, but you eat food that resembles meat… sort of tastes like meat… Do you want meat or not? Make a choice already put your money where your mouth is…. and he wasn’t all that great in bed either. He said he liked sex in all sorts of positions. I didn’t realise that he meant virtually simultaneously. I mean, he’d get going, and 10 strokes into the act, he’d flip me over, turn me around, lay me down or some other thing…. no sooner would I start to respond, then we’d be back to square one. I like sex in all sorts of positions, but pick one and stick with it.. we’ll do another one next time. Next time might be 10 minutes later, or 10 days later… but finish what you start ok?

The second guy… is even bigger than her, and she’s told me that because of the size of the two of them, they cannot physically connect in any traditional manner. They make due with oral sex or mutal masterbation… not my cup of tea either.

The third guy? The one I used to flirt with? Well, it turns out he’s really fucked up (if you ask me … and I know you didn’t). His idea of fulfilling sex is making the woman crawl on the floor, licking his boots and begging for attention.


So, like I said, she has three guys…. and while I’m better-looking, better-dressing, better smelling, consistant and won’t make you crazy waiting for me to get my shit together … I have nobody.

I had another acquaintance who was rapidly moving towards the “Friend” category, but that led nowhere… admittedly because of me.

She didn’t have a guy. Didn’t want a guy. Wasn’t looking for a guy, and understood why I did and honestly sympathized. So what went wrong?

A guy walked into her life and now she doesn’t have time to talk to me because she’s very, very happy.

Thanks God. I appreciate that one. There’s justice for you. She didn’t want one, but she got one. She was happy without one, but she got one. She wasn’t looking for one, but she got one. Way to go.

I’m not stupid. I know that this is MY problem, not hers. I don’t begrudge her happiness… I’m envious of it, and pissed off because of the injustice it illustrates. Hard work pays off? Couldn’t prove it by me. Go ask whats-her-face… she won the lottery without even buying a ticket.

My friend, whom we’ll call Dick (for reasons that amuse me), tried to support me and sympathize by telling me that it’s all random. It doesn’t matter if I wear the pretty green dress, or gungy blue jeans….. when the right guy walks by it’ll happen ………

Too late really.

As I told another aquaintance (1/2 of a married couple acquaintance to be exact), who was trying to be supportive (keep your spirits up…. keep trying and it’ll happen) that a gorgeous hunk of male could see me walking down the street, jump out of his Ferarri wearing an Armani suit and a Rolex, drop to his knees before me begging me to allow him the privelege of taking such a divine creature as myself out to dinner, and I’d walk away without a word.


Because he’s an asshole. That’s all I attract, so that’s what he must be. I just haven’t discovered HOW he’s an asshole yet, and no longer have a desire to discover his paricular assholeness. The head space I’m in right now tells me that. The males I’ve encountered lately have convinced me that they’re all assholes.

Women don’t appeal to me, so don’t suggest I try them either (and it HAS been suggested).

I’m 100% heterosexual.

Shooting myself in the foot with that attitude?

No doubt I am, but I’m also saving myself a ton of grief. Dick says that I’m in survival mode… protecting myself from being hurt again, and I need to stop thinking that way.

Probably true, but let’s just explore a few of the assholes shall we?

Top of the list… (all names have been changed to protect me from accusation of libel stemming from calling a spade a spade)…. We start with Ken. Ken had some idiosyncracies I was willing to overlook because we think a lot alike in many ways… come from the same part of the country originally.. nearly the same age… lived through much the same difficulties… all good starts in a relationship. Ken had some quirks as I said. He likes to shave off all of his body hair, and wear women’s clothes (but he swore he was heterosexual… not a “closet fag”). But Ken has a sexual fetish I can’t live with. He also likes to wear diapers. We discussed it, and he swore up and down that it wasn’t a fetish… it was just a fondness.

A sexual fetish by definition is something that HAS to be present in order to achieve sexual fulfillment.

A fondness is something you like, but can live without if needs be.

Well, turns out that he likes to have a woman sit on his lap while he sucks her tits and cums in his diaper. Actually using his penis for the purpose to which nature intended it to be used is impossible for him. Impossible? Yes, impossible. He gets all erect and everything without his diaper, but goes limp as a wet noodle when it gets near a vagina, and he isn’t even willing to do anything to help the woman. The one time we were in bed (after he’d made me all worked up and crazy) and he found he couldn’t finish, he suggested that I get out my sex toys (after all a single woman has to have sex toys right)… so I did, and I handed them to him thinking that he might like to finish what he started. He refused…. said he wanted to watch me do myself. This is a problem for me.

IF I’M GOING TO MASTURBATE, then what the Hell do I need you there for?

Am I the only one who understands this statement, or am I being unreasonable or unrealistic?

We move on to Louis. Louis negelected to tell me he’d had back surgery and was incapbable of sitting on a sofa to snuggle for more than 10 minutes… or sleeping in a bed (he slept in a chair for an hour or two.. then on the floor, then back to the chair)… or having sex unless he could do it in under 5 minutes.


We have James. James bitched at me for being where I was supposed to be, when I was supposed to be there. Nope, that’s not a typo. Worse yet, he bitched for two days. We’d agreed to meet at the entrance of a local park… a park that has a fountain at the entrance. I was there at 10 am as agreed, and stood there for half an hour waiting for him. He doesn’t have a cell phone, so I couldn’t call to find out if he was ok, or if the plan had changed or anything. I waited and waited in the rain, getting soaking wet and finally went home after leaving a message on his home voicemail (when he didn’t answer I figured he was hung up in traffic or something). He called me hours later to ask why I didn’t meet him. I explained that I was there, where was he? He said that because it was raining, he was waiting in a coffeshop around the corner.

And I’m supposed to psychically know this?

I mean, this was our second date. While I might have known my ex-husband well enough to know that he’d be in the comic book shop across the street and gone to meet him there instead… I don’t know this James guy well enough to know that he couldn’t stand in the rain for a few minutes waiting for me to arrive (assuming he got there first). Then he bitched at me for two days because I was where I was supposed to be… when I was supposed to be there? Imagine what I’d have to deal with if I wasn’t somewhere I was supposed to be.

So sorry, good luck finding a chick who’ll put up with that shit.

Now we have Bob. Bob was great in a whole lotta ways, but not in one that really matters to me…. honesty. We went out five or six times, and had gotten to the point where sex was on the table… Like Ken, he had assured me that it wasn’t a problem, and he was willing to wait until the time was right. Only thing is, when it finally got to that point he admitted that he suffered from ED (erectile dysfunction), and because of a quadruple bypass Viagra was not an option, and I’d have to learn to go without…


I’ve been a sex-based lifeform all my life. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t horny.

Hell, when I was 9 I tried to kill myself because I couldn’t get laid…. NINE.

The only thing that saved me (and laugh if you will.. looking back it IS kinda funny) was the fact that you can’t die from eating a whole bottle of St. Joseph’s aspirin for children. The part that isn’t funny is that a nine-year old was in such pain that she wanted to die.

So there went Bob.

Then there’s another Bob, and we exchanged emails back and forth for some time, discussing all sorts of things (including sex) and he kept hounding me for my phone number. I wouldn’t give it to him because I hadn’t met him… I’d learned that one by then…

SIDE NOTE: If a guy hounds you for your phone number… odds are he only wants it so you’ll have phone sex with him, or so I’ve learned the hard way.

Anyway, he seemed ok, friendly, convivial and such, and we agreed to meet for a “walk on the beach to chat in person.” He got there, but I didn’t recognize him because he’d neglected to tell me he was deaf and confined to a wheelchair…. so much for a walk on the beach with pleasant conversation. I mean, how can you have a conversation whilst walking when you have to be facing the person so he can read your lips? The reason he wanted my phone number was so that he could text me at all hours instead of waiting until he could get to his computer to answer an email.

So much for him…. and when I explained to a client of mine (who happened to cross my path at a moment when I was NOT in a mood to be social) why I was so out-of-sorts, her response was to say to me, “poor man, think how horrible it is for him.”

He’d have better fucking luck if he was HONEST with a person. I mean, if he had told me about his physical condition, I would have considered it carefully and proceeded knowing that he was handicapped, or not, but he took the choice out of my hands by lying to me.



Darryl. Darryl and I got along great for a couple of months. We didn’t see each other much because he lives about 70 miles away, so that was a bummer, but something I was willing to put up with. Then my mother took ill and I had to make an emergency trip to be with her last year and I was so flustered that I forgot to tell Darryl. He sent me an email, asking if I was ok because he hadn’t heard from me… I’d been gone about 2 weeks at this point… and I sent him a sincere apology, explaining what had happened, and his response was, “I’m glad to hear you’re ok, I thought you’d found out about my wife and kids and was upset about it.”


What is with these guys?

I was told I was “too fat to fuck.”

I was told, “I saw your profile on a dating site, and thought you sounded interesting, but you were way too big. I see you’ve lost a bunch of weight. Call me when you’ve lost 50 more pounds.”

I’ve been stood up more times than I can count.

This one guy said he wanted to take me on a trip to Vegas, then got mad when I didn’t jump into his bed as a way of saying thank you before we got there.

There was the guy who seemed nice enough, and he claimed that he was a good cook and wanted me to come to his place so he could make me a nice dinner. I figured that proved he wasn’t married anyway, so why not at least check him out? I got there and he gave me the grand tour. I saw nothing to indicate that there was a woman in residence (but out of town visiting her mother or something), but I also saw that there was nothing cooking (or even evidence of cooking preparations) in the kitchen, and mentioned it to him. He said that he thought we’d order in after. After what I asked innocently. His response was to push me down over the dinner table and lift up the back of my dress. I left him craddeling a broken knee.


Married guys are easy to spot mostly because they want you to host.

Bums are easy to spot because they have a million excuses why you can’t come to their place.

I wasn’t going to put up with this continued bullshit, but didn’t want to give up either, so we move on to Joseph — who stood me up ONCE, and I was in such a mood that I wrote him a long, vile email calling him an asshole and calling him on his bullshit. He swore he wasn’t what I called him and begged me to give him another chance by letting him take me out to lunch at the finest restaurant in town …. I did.


But I made him jump through some serious hoops.

1. You will meet me where I say, when I say (and the place I picked was not a 5-star restaurant, but a 4-star restaurant five minutes from my home).
2. You will, when you get there, take a photo of yourself standing in front of the place and email it to me, so I KNOW that you’re there… when I get the email, I will leave my home and meet you there.
3. DO NOT expect sex on the first date…. I want to make that clear right now.

Well, he jumped through those hoops, and in all honesty, I was thinking positively about this, I was sitting at my computer, dressed all nicely, waiting for the email… hoping that he wouldn’t let me down… he didn’t as I said, so I left and he’d only been waiting 10 minutes. We had a nice lunch, after which, he pushed and pushed and pushed, suggesting that since I’d gotten there so fast I must live close by and why don’t we go back to my place for some afternoon nookie? I repeated the fact that I wasn’t going to jump into bed with him on the first date, and he wanted to know if I was hungry and could he take me out to dinner… would that be a second date?


Intellectually, I know they’re just assholes… it’s not me, but there’s way too many of them, so there has to be something about me that attracts them, and I haven’t the first clue.

So going back to what I told the acquaintance…. the guy in the Ferrari? If he wants to go out with me….. he has to be an asshole.

I also understand that this means I’ll never have another date.

I also understand that this means I’m saving myself from assholes!

I can’t take the rejection and disapointment anymore.

Each one got worse and worse, and I honestly fear for my continued sanity if I run into one more.

I see happy people and I want to kill them just to show them that life sucks.

I don’t listen to music anymore because some lyric or other will trigger some fucked up thing in my head and make me so depressed I can’t work, and I start to drink, or toke myself into brain damage to get the internal dialogue to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I vent frequently by calling my own voicemail and ranting at it. I guess it makes me feel more sane to be talking to voicemail than just ranting out loud to nobody on the street like your stereotypical crazy person.

I carry a journal for when I can’t do that and have to get it out of my system before I implode.

I stand in front of a mirror and wonder what guys see that I’m not seeing.

I have horrible nightmares unless I drink/drug myself into a stupor.

I hate stupid, and although I’m technically a fucking genius (depending on which meter you use), I feel incredibly stupid because I can’t get a handle on these problems. Nowadays, I try to keep under the radar. I don’t go out unless I have to. I don’t listen to music, or watch a movie I haven’t already seen for fear that there’ll be something in it that triggers me negatively. There’s a lot I don’t do anymore because I’m near the end of my rope.

So Dick tells me to think positively and keep trying and be myself and trust that everything will turn out alright in the end.

He’s an asshole too…. for lots and lots of reasons that I’m sure I’ll vent about at some time or another, but for now, you’ll just have to take my word for it.


About justmenobodyreally

I'm a bitter, lonely woman.. read on and you'll discover why.
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One Response to Stupidity and Other Things

  1. Nancy says:

    Ah, you have done it again. What a bunch of nerds have been drawn to you. Wonder why?

    Perspective is fascinating. To you these guys are assholes and from your perspective I can easily see why. From my perspective I can see them in some way crippled and just slogging along through life the best they can.

    From each of these experiences, please remember it was NOT you. These guys are damaged goods.

    Now where all the intact guys? That’s the question. Remember you need to be where they are. Or how else will they find you.

    Chapter 3?

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