Clue-by-Four: Ramblings of a Jock Dork

Passion Backfires: How to Get Your Very Own Stalker

Posted in Misadventures in Dating by Wingnut on April 13, 2010

“There is a fine line between serendipity and stalking.”

–David Coleman

Upon consulting the five love languages, I was not at all shocked that my two primary languages are “Physical Touch” and “Words of Affirmation.” I’m sure you can already tell that I am one verbose MF. 1 What you probably don’t know is that I put the same care and dedication into passionate endeavors. The dedication to my words is the same dedication I use in the touch and pleasuring of a woman. [Whether it works or not if for the woman to decide]2

"EEEEH What's up psycho hosebeast?"

Now, I suppose there is a boat load of ways to gain a stalker or two, but I’ve noticed that my particular “Love Language” seems to lend itself an unhealthy obsession from some women, especially those used to” Mr. You Can Get Yours Watching the Food Network When We Are Done”. Over the unabashed asshole years3, more than one woman that I fucked over kept coming back for the sex. A few became a little more avid with their affections [We are talking borderline boiling rabbit in a pot obsessed].

Take “The 11-Year Itch” [EYI}, the quintessential example of what I’m talking about. My interactions with EYI can be summed up by the following pattern: Call her up for a date; pick her up; drive her to a parking spot in a dark place; spend the next two hours passionately seducing her and pleasing her to the brink of what she could handle [This is all self-serving because I enjoy doing it]; drive her back home; call her again in a few weeks or even, in some cases, months. I never once bought her as much as a Slurpee on any of our “dates.”4 [According to DB Monthly (not a real magazine), you actually need to purchase a Slurpee and an ice-cream sandwich for it to be considered a date]

Eventually, I had gotten into enough trouble with girlfriends I was cheating on that I stopped calling her [I make no qualms about being an absolute dousche at various periods of my life, see footnote 3]. Flash forward eleven years. I was married at this point and visitewd the local coffeehouse to socialize and play games with some friends. One night, I sat next to a friend of mine, UCV [“Under Control” V], and looked up to see EYI sitting there. Her eyes grew wide when she saw me. The words “OH” and “SHIT” come to mind.

She started asking all sorts of questions about my personal life, probing to see if my ex-wife and I had broken up yet. The “Crazy Train” here goes without saying [But notice, I’m shamelessly plugging a previous blog].

Interestingly enough, she had a boyfriend, not that you would notice of course. He was invisible. No, not imaginary [Though, in her case, I wouldn’t have been shocked]. But, when she saw me, the whole world absolutely vanished and her focus was on me. It was comical really. In her eyes, he no longer existed. She even asked, “Could you get my phone out of the car. I don’t remember it and I want to give it to him.” [Now, before you feel sorry for this guy, you should know that, as of this blog, he has been in jail at least seven separate times].

I didn’t call her, but temptation was there. No, not to sleep with her [Infidelity was my ex-wife’s department]. I was tempted to walk up to him and say, “You know, I could take her home and fuck her right now and your sorry ass would have to walk home.” Largely because I didn’t like him and, well, mostly because I could. 5

Of course, I never called her.

But they both have fur...right! RIGHT?!?

Two years pass and guess who popped up on MySpace looking for a friend. Well, she was looking for more than a friend. Turns out, things were horrible with her boyfriend and she wanted to know, if she broke up with him, if we could be together and she missed me so much. According to her, I was the best thing that ever happened to her and she was a fool to let me go [Revisionist history anyone?]. I tried a different approach this time and tried to scare her away by saying I was into some crazy, kinky shit. She was undeterred by this [actually she ignored it all together]. “We have so much in common,” she wrote. “We both have kids, we both like sex.” [Wow, if that were all it took, e-harmony wouldn’t have any business].6

I’m sure if I had said, “I think you are a psychotic hosebeast,” she would have probably called it a cute nickname.

All of this could have been prevented if I had been 5-minute, all about me guy in the front seat [I only take classy girls to the backseat]7. I mean seriously, what woman stalks that guy? What woman remembers him even a year later?

Last I heard, she is finally getting married to her boyfriend [he’s actually been out of jail for more than two months now] and is pregnant [The baby is destined to have the IQ of a brick]. Maybe she’s finally given up…though, somehow, I doubt it.

Footnotes:

  1. Seriously, I just won’t shut up.
  2. I’ve heard rumors to the effect that most men don’t take care of a woman’s needs and even more rumor that I may not be one of them.
  3. The exact years of this time period vary from the day I was born to present day [depending on who you ask].
  4. I did at least opt against the Tom Likus approach, which is make her buy me a Slurpee. Hey, at least I some sense of ethics.
  5. Can anyone say, “I’m a giant whale penis?”
  6. Some things we also had in common: breathing; hair; dreams [the ability to, not hopes and goals]; a name that starts with a consonant; the letter ‘I’ .
  7. That is clearly a lie.

PS: Clutter Singularity Part will be published in the next 24-48 hours

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3 Responses

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  1. Joan said, on April 14, 2010 at 4:48 am

    The difficult thing for me to digest about this one is a few-fold.

    First, you claimed to “spend the next two hours passionately seducing her and pleasing her to the brink of what she could handle [This is all self-serving because I enjoy doing it].” So while you clearly enjoy pleasing women (though clearly you enjoy stroking your own ego a bit more), at this(these) stage(s) of your life, you clearly didn’t(don’t) enjoy respecting women. Am I reading that right?

    Second, if the classy women make it to the backseat, who are the women you’re actually taking to bed?! The mere mention of sex in a car (which you’ve done at least one time prior) both insinuates a level of class of your own and the level of confidence/respect those women had in/for themselves…so it begs the question, which came first, the chicken or the egg?

    Three…that’s “tres” in Spanish (copyrightJJS).

    Fourth, in blogging about levels of junk and your dealings with your own junk, you appear to have learned nothing from those blogs. I know this is for show, pomp-and-circumstance, ego-stroke-ability….however, you have to practice what you’re preaching…

    • theteacher174 said, on April 14, 2010 at 7:17 pm

      1. I think I’ve been pretty clear about that. Last I checked, that’s what unabashed asshole meant.

      2. Clear hyperbole.

      4. This blog has really nothing to do with anything I’ve learned. There are other women who read this and maybe showing them just what the “guy with the penis” is thinking might prove instructional.

  2. Shannon H. said, on April 14, 2010 at 6:15 am

    You know, it’s sad really… and I am sorry you are dealing with such loosers but your particular brand of sarcasem (I know I can’t spell, so drop it) always makes me laugh 😉 sorry your having such a hard time with dating though… I’m so glad I’m out of that particular game. 🙂


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