so remember this guy?
well he’s apparently f*ing CRAZY.
seriously folks. first of all the dude randomly decides that he doesn’t ever want to talk to me again, and sends me a pansy five-part text message to let me know this. his reason? the ever-clever, “it’s not you, it’s me.”
I moved on. dated (read: made out with) other boys. lived my D*MN LIFE. realized, he wasn’t that cute to begin with, so there was no real harm done. and i swear to you people i did not contact him after that. not once. ok once. but only the day after the five-part text. and then i swear, NOTHING.
however, being the awesome person that I am. he apparently can’t get me out of his d*mn mind. so he decided to comment on my blog. (see here). when i saw the comment i was a bit disgusted that he had the nerve to read my blog. but then I thought, whatever. i’ll sell my soul for another click on this thing, so more power to him.
yes, i noticed that he not only told me he was on nutra system, he also suggested i try it. but whatever. he’s an idiot. who cares.
but THEN. oh. f*ing snap. I’m not sure if he got off his meds, or start taking some that he didn’t need or if he’s just naturally f*ed up, but he sent me another comment. only this one was a crazy rant about all the things he had decided he didn’t like about me on those ever-informative three and a half dates we had.
THREE AND A HALF DATES! and he didn’t even make it to second-base, so I’m not sure where he came out with all these opinions on ME!
Also, I’m not really sure if he understands how blogs work. see, I approve all the comments. That’s right. when you see that your comment is awaiting moderation, that means I am reviewing it to decide if I want to post it.
because his crazy rant is pretty freaking vicious, i’ve decided instead to pull snippets for your viewing pleasure: a. because I know you’re curious, and b. because i want to make fun of him.
“If someone has a neat gadget, maybe try keeping the compliments to yourself, or at least don’t mention how much it impresses you that I had a gps in my car. The people who have these things, don’t think it’s a big deal that they have them. It all went downhill from there.”
that is a direct quote people. DIRECT. apparently, when i told him I liked that stupid gps thing in his stupid car because I was trying to be nice, i somehow screwed everything up. that was our first date, so I’m not exactly sure why he even bothered to call after that, seeing as how i throw around the compliments all the time.
(after a LONG explanation of how I’m crazy for carbs and don’t eat well): “That might mean that “blog night” turns into “jog night”. Try it, I have. I feel like im 21 again and I’ve only been doing it for a week and a half.”
So you’ve been working out for a week and a half. WOW! that’s like what? 10 days. go you. j*ck*ss. also, did you think you were being clever with that rhyme? oh. you did? well, you weren’t.
“[Sh*t], I wish you ate healthy on your own. I didn’t want to be in charge of that task for the rest of my life.”
stupididiot say what? for the rest of your life? who the heck was talking about the rest of anybody’s life?
There were a lot of other VERY mean things in this rant that I’d just as soon forget, so I won’t re-post anymore. but i just wanted to tell you guys this story as a warning: NEVER let a boy you met on match.com see where you live. ever. because they might turn out to be CRAZY like this one. and for that matter, be careful about who you give your blog address to.
don’t worry. I have since flagged his IP address as SPAM through my filter, so even if he tries to comment again, it will just go into a magical file somewhere and I’ll never even see it.
there. now I can officially move one with my D*mn life.