Creepy Married High School Swinger Guy 09/30/2009
For this particular blog post, I’m just going to let my Facebook entries and Instant Messages to my friend, D, explain it all. For the record, I went to high school with creepy married guy. My FB Status: “FB update #125 for the day...if someone has to purchase 2 plane tickets due to a large bottom, shouldn't they be allowed to drive in the carpool lane? Just wondering...” Here are the comments that followed: Creep: If a girl with big breasts works at Hooters, shouldn't someone with one leg work at I-HOP? Me: Touche! Nice comeback young grasshopper Creep: It appears that the teacher has now become the student! Me: Its ok, I just quit my job at Hooters and was looking for something to occupy my time Apparently, he didn’t catch my attempt at humor because shortly after my response I got this email from the creep: “Did you find anything interesting to take your mind off of walking around in your small Hooters shirt?” Realizing that he was an idiot, I didn’t respond. Three weeks later while IMing with my buddy, D, Mr. Creepy infiltrated my peaceful existence once more: Me: I've got some retard trying to school me in humor...he's losing poorly D: lol Me: he's a retard and the kind of funny where he actually TELLS you he's funny. Uh newsflash...you are a moron! D: HAHAHAHAAH tell it like it is girl!!! Me: you know, if you have to tell someone that you are funny..... D: then you really are not Me: Bingo! Me: and the high school NOTfunny guy is married Me: so now I have creepy science teacher guy AND creepy married guy that’s not funny trying to bother me at the same time. I’m being instant message molested by the perverts from my youth! D: oh great, why is he bugging you then? Me: OH GAWD!!! Science teacher just told me he's never had a problem getting women.... Me: DUDE!!!! He just busted out the "I'm Rich" card...wow, he really put it out there! D: of course, because all he talks about first is about how much money he's got Me: yup. see I told you! I’m a weirdo magnet D: oh man I can't wait to read THAT story Me: I seriously can't believe this is happening...oh wait, this is me...YES I CAN Me: married guy just told me my confidence is sexy...wtf??? D: creep!!!! Me: ACK! He just said he's hot and bothered! Well, go fuck your wife then! Seriously, WHAT. IS. UP??? D: yeah no shit!! Me: I'm seriously laughing in my head....see, I don't even have to do anything and the crazies seek me out Me: totally entertaining though D: hell yeah it is Me: I just told him it was a good thing he had a WIFE to help him take care of those urges D: good Me: FUCK! He just told me that they are always looking for OTHERS TO PRACTICE WITH!!!! Me: I need to log off from facebook...like yesterday! D: oh boy.. swingers...nice Me: now, creepy swinger married guy just told me "I think you're hot and I don't mind saying it. I have no shame"....nope, apparently not. Although, by the looks of the pics of his wife, I can TOTALLY see why he's hitting on me D: OMG you are a trip Me: wow, creepy swinger just threw it out there too...asked me what I thought of his pictures and if I’d be interested in meeting up with him. love the subtlety D: I can't wait to hear how you let this one down D: or tell him off Me: I think I'm gonna play with him for a while then break his ego by telling him I'm only into black guys and 10" dicks D: HAHAHAHAHAHA Me: apparently I'm just too sexy to resist now Me: I can't blame him of course D: of course Me: I’m weirded out about creepy married swinger guy. It's been my past experience that most men that brag about being "the best" in bed are usually the worst Me: I told the guy flat out that I didn't dig doing other women’s men...that I didn't need their leftovers Me: didn't stop him from trying D: of course not, because guys don't know the meaning of "NO" Me: it's the egos that get me Me: he's not exactly George Clooney and his confidence is annoying, not endearing Me: uh oh, I see the redhead is online...Gotta GO! Basically, what I ended up doing with creepy married swinger guy was telling him I wasn’t interested in playing with him or his wife. It was then that he informed me that all women should get a chance to see a perfect penis once in their lives. I told him that I had in fact seen a perfect penis and that that perfect penis lives two doors down and ISN’T MARRIED! Buh Bye! Chris Hansen...Where You At? 09/25/2009
Text to my BFF: Me (8:17pm): Yesterdays recap. Was told I make my HS science teacher inappropriately “happy” cuz I’m sexy, asked to “practice” in bed by a guy I went to school with bcuz he and his wife are swingers, rcv’d multiple texts from a pimp (another story for another day), and had my blog posted on a porn site to help with donations (Thanks, D! XOXO). I’ve only been up since 10am. Me: Oh, and I had spaghetti for dinner. BFF: I’m exhausted just listening to you! This is my motto, “Go Big or Go Home” but even I have my limitations. Yet Tuesday proved to me that it is possible to have two full moons, during the day, on Earth. Considering that I’m not working at the moment, have no specific love interest to occupy my time and have decided to lay low from the internet dating scene I still seem to have a plethora of things to keep my mind a’ buzzin. Allow me to elaborate: I’ve decided that it’s time that Facebook and I either need to sit and have it out or it’s best that we part ways. If I’m not constantly being bombarded by the 100% happy 100% of the time soccer moms then I’m being annoyed with the people that post status updates thinking they are funny when they clearly are not. Anyone that has kept up with my blog should already be aware of the feelings I have towards Facebook and my tendency to consider it a necessary evil of sorts. It allows me to cyber stalk yet still makes me feel unworthy. I didn’t think much of it when I received an email and a Friend Request from my old 8th grade science teacher saying that I was one of his favorite students. I mean really, how could I not be? I was filled with warm memories of the goofy looking, younger than most science teacher with a pregnant wife at home. He was funny and probably the only reason I know anything at all about genetics. Unfortunately, I’m sometimes horrible about returning emails so I just accepted his Friend Request and called it a day. Fast forward 20 days and me posting something about a bumblebee stalking me on my balconette (also referred to as my mini balcony) and I received yet another email from soon to be apparent Mr. Should be on “To Catch a Predator” creepy high school teacher guy. This is what I got… ”HA! Quit putting sexy pictures on your site and you won't be stalked! Although the bumblebee threw me... besides i like your pictures and comments” Ok….EEW! Ignoring my gut, I actually responded to this email. Having a tendency to over think and often times overreact, I figured that this must be one of those times. Considering all the time I’ve had on my hands lately, it is entirely plausible that I may have misinterpreted his innocent remarks as a come on. Plus, I happen to think I’m quite adorable and therefore almost expect to hear it from most people. I’m not sure if my ego is so high that I expect flattery or so low that I need it. Whatever the case, I’ve got a great rack and this is a fact. I felt my response was pretty innocuous and innocent: "Hey Mr. Smith! Or is it Steven now? Even at 31 I still feel the need to address you by Mister! How about a compramise? Mr. S? So, where are you teaching at these days? If I remember correctly, I heard a few years back that you were no longer teaching at LC. Those students are definitely missing out. The first thought that came to my mind when I got your "Friend Request" a few weeks ago was you having a discussion about Evolution v. Creation with Jane Doe. I thought that was well played, Mr. S! HA (Jane, btw, just contacted me a few months ago to get back in touch. She's now Jane Doe-Doe if you care to add her as well). Funny thing, this Facebook... Your daughters are beautiful. If I also remember correctly, wasn't your wife pregnant at the time I had you as a teacher. My father always used to warn me that the older I got the faster time would pass. I hate to admit it but he's right. Hm, mental note, tell the pops he was right. He'll love that!" The very next day I got this back: "How about Steve?!I'm not a teacher anymore. I'm in the education business now- tutoring, afterschool programs, office and school supplies, books, games, all kinds of stuff- if you're interested, go to my profile and check my profile for websites. It's weird after living month to month on a teachers check, now it's a little different. I live on 20 acres in Santa Clarita ( Sand Canyon), a house on the beach in SanDiego and a house at Lake Tahoe. I make more in a day than I did in a year of teaching. But the best thing is how precious my daughters are. They are my life. They have to be, as my wife is a raging alcoholic and we're separating-I have to keep her from my girls, who she keeps deserting. Sorry for that last paragraph, but I'm right in the middle of it right now.You seem really happy and I love reading your posts. Yes I did look at all your pics and tried to tilt the screen down...lol I'm 48, not dead! I looked up a bunch of LC kids when the fires were happening. I'm glad I did. I've gotten a lot of wonderful letters.Keep in touch." Wow! Just Wow! So I was right! He was hitting on me and he is a pervert. Was anyone else completely caught off guard when he went into the small tangent about his wife being a raging alcoholic? I also can appreciate the way he threw out that he’s now wealthy. But, I guess when you are a 48 year old, almost divorcee with an alcoholic wife, have four daughters, are short, fat and ugly you need some sort of selling point. There just seems to be something so intrinsically wrong with a teacher hitting on a student when the last time they had any contact was when the student was 13 years old. So, what did I do with that information? Well, I asked him for a fucking job. I know what you are thinking and to that I say WHAT-EVER! (Shameless plug #1…buy my shit and help a girl out). I should have known right then and there that was a mistake and honestly, I did, but if this guy has so much money and is clearly in need of an Administrative Goddess then why not share the wealth? Ok, maybe he doesn’t need a secretary but just in case he does I wanted to make sure he knew I was available. I’m working all angles and leaving no stone unturned. Instead of emailing me back, the moment I logged onto my Facebook I was accosted by Mr. High School Teaching Pervert via instant message. “hey to be clear, i haven't flirted with anyone in 17 years. I believe in honor and loyalty and that stuff, but she has deserted me and it felt good to talk to you. I hope you don't think i'm a creepy guy” This is my thinking, if somebody has to tell you they are not creepy, guess what? They ARE!!!! With that, began the downward spiral of inappropriate innuendos and propositions on the part of the teacher. I’m not particularly sure what it is about me that bring out the crazies but I need to go wash my forehead just in case I have written in permanent marker “Hey crazies, come bug me and PLEASE start telling me how hard my pictures make your cock.” Since when did phrases like “Hello” and “How are you?” take on the meaning “I want to bend over and let you take me from behind?” Just wondering…because I think that Webster needs to update his dictionary. As if it couldn’t get any worse, Creepy Science Teacher guy proceeded to tell me that he smoked pot. Like that was some badge of honor and he was trying to impress me with how “cool” he was now. I seriously felt as though I were in an “Afterschool Special” gone awry. When the conversation geared towards me making him “uh…happy” I’d had enough. Awkward! Discussing my old science teacher’s erection was definitely not on my agenda for the day. P.S. One last thing, knowing my predicament, he did offer me a “loan” with “no strings attached”… GTH: How do you know he’s not just trying to be nice? Me: Because he’s talking about his hard on at the same time... Yep. That pretty much sums it up. Stay tuned for Creepy Married Swinger High School Alumni guy… Vampire Prince 09/20/2009
When I woke up this morning I had this little nugget of goodness sitting in my inbox. Upon opening the email from the self proclaimed “Majestic Prince” I realized there was no way that I could NOT write about it. I have to say that this definitely comes across as one of the most interesting yet disturbing emails I have yet to receive. “Subject: u still fishin… Hello GorG.. Saw ur Pic & HAD to MSG. U... Look.... I'm Sorry 4 Wat I'm about 2 say.. But, Really.. If I ever meet U in Person... I'll Bite U on Yo Neck... & I'll Drink all that Lusty-Sluty Blood of Urz..... . .. ... Its Just "Coz Ur so Fukin Hawt..!!!” WOW! Although flattered at being called “Fukin Hawt” I’m not quite sure what to make of him wanting to drink my “Lusty-Sluty Blood”. Is this the new thing to do? Thanks to True Blood and Twilight I’m definitely feeling myself a little vamp lust lately but this Majestic Prince definitely isn’t giving me any warm and fuzzy feelings and despite the 90 degree heat I feel myself reaching for a turtleneck sweater. I went to check out his profile and was not the least bit surprised to find my Romeo as only 21 years of age. He claims to not want children (thank GOD) and has some university experience. Call me old fashioned and I know it’s been a few years since I’ve been in school but I honestly don’t remember the course on “how to write like a retard.” Under Profession he wrote…wait for it…wait for it…”-u$tLeR”. No fucking Lie! Waking up this morning was all worth it just so I could be accosted by this blood thirsty “-u$tLeR”. Seriously, as I even write this I’m still shaking my head and laughing at the ridiculousness of this fucktard. This whole thing is just wrong on soooo many levels. His Profile: “Title: Majestic Prince “The Shark”: Beast lookin for Beauty with Booty!!! Seperate Me From The Rest.. I Feel Like I'm The Best... When I was young I never needed anyone And making love was just for fun Those days are gone Livin' alone I think of all the friends I've known When I dial the telephone Nobody's home” More poetry I presume??? Shhhhh, is that you too I hear laughing??? P.S. I didn’t even bother hitting Spellcheck on this entry… The RedHeaded Stepchild 09/17/2009
The Redheaded Stepchild has the honor of being quite possibly the worst lay in history. At least my history. And that’s saying a lot considering I’ve been around the block a few times. I didn’t technically meet the RHSC online but I’ve decided to mention him for two reasons. First being that despite having gone to high school with him it wasn’t until we really met “met” through Facebook. So, using that logic, we did sort of meet online. Second, he was the WORST. LAY. EVER. And who can resist talking about that? Certainly, not me. It was about a year ago that I was first contacted by the redhead. He added me on Facebook and I didn’t think much of it. We weren’t friends in high school but I knew who he was. He later confessed that he didn’t quite remember me from back in the day but that he certainly liked what he saw now. I was not quite as enamored with him but thought he looked like fun. He started instant messaging me here and there insisting on meeting for cocktails and weed. I wasn’t interested in him romantically. Until he told me what he did for a living and posted a picture of the house he lived in, in the Hollywood Hills. Me? Shallow? Abso-fucking-lutely. Looking for love hasn’t been working out so well. Why not try looking for a meal ticket? Keep your judgments to yourself…unless you agree with me, of course. After a few months of playing hard to get (according to him. Really, he wasn’t high enough on my radar to play anything) we finally decided to meet up for a drink. He was about 6’ tall, chubby and in case you weren’t quite sure, a redhead. Not attracted to him physically, I was definitely attracted to him personality wise. He was a go getter and the life of the party. Anybody that can make me laugh and tell me I’m pretty has a half decent chance of getting to see me naked. We had a lot of fun that first night and I knew I’d be seeing him again. A few nights later, I went over to his place. He was a little over the top with his wanting to touch and cuddle but throw in a few cocktails and some Family Guy and the good times were beginning to roll. I stayed over that night and thanks to Kettle One I didn’t quite remember him being the atrocious lover that he would turn out to be. It was a few weeks later that we reconnected and decided to meet up again. This time at my place. Due to my timing (ahem) we weren’t able to have sex but I did get a chance to check out the non-too-impressive goods. Of course I’ve been surprised in the past by “little” men so he wasn’t out for the count by a long shot. I still loved his sense of humor and it didn’t hurt that he looked at me the same way I look at pasta. A few weeks after that he was due to come back over. As my current job situation had still not improved and my funds were a thing of the past I was definitely looking to see if a little eyelash batting could allow me to borrow enough from him to squeak by for the month. All other resources had been tapped out already and I only needed $135 to keep afloat and my roommate from strangling me in my sleep. I was also starving. 99 cent store bologna and cheese had finally done me in. I wanted some pizza and beer…BAAAAD. I would have gone down on RuPaul had he shown up with Mexican food. While he was in Drag. So, as if RHSC read my mind I got this text: “I have no $ and I already ate. I have lots of beer tho. Am I a loser?” I should have seen that coming. The law no longer belongs to Murphy. It has become mine, all mine. By the time I got his text, he was already on the way. I made myself another bologna and cheese sandwich and braced myself for a night of beer and cuddling. The thought of jumping off my balcony crossed my mind until I remembered my newly acquired law and I was not about to mangle my beautifully sculpted face because Tubs didn’t have any money for me to borrow. That night we had tragic sex. Things started out okay as I put him to work massaging me. I was still angry with him for being broke. Not his fault I realize but mad at my unfaltering bad luck. I hadn’t even asked him for money…EVER! Yet, when I needed it the most, he just happened to have switched bank accounts over a holiday weekend and hadn’t pulled out enough before getting his new ATM card. JUST. MY. LUCK. The poor guy didn’t even know that deep down I was plotting his death. In my head I’m a really evil woman. This I know and I’m able to mask it but evil none the less. I made sure he hit it from behind because a) I have a great ass for doggy style and b) I was watching TV. However, with him going semi limp it was hard to concentrate on South Park when I felt like he was stabbing my clit with a pencil. Eventually, he finished and I left him to hog the covers and pass out so I could chat it up with a hot cop I had dated a few years back online. A few hours later I came back in to find sleeping beauty taking up ¾ of my bed and not wearing any covers. I was not impressed. Not sure where I get off thinking that I’m the only one allowed to carry a few extra pounds but I do. So fuck it. Realizing what a bitch I was and still holding on to the fact that the RHSC was really a decent and fun loving guy I decided not to write him off just yet. After all, he had to have access to his funds at some point, right? After a few 3am text messages from him asking me to come over for some “fun” I only felt it right that if he was trying to intentionally bruise my pussy I was going to try and intentionally bruise his wallet. Not sure what it was that made him think I liked having sex with a limp noodle but I must have had him fooled. Sad. So, officially having entered “survivor mode” I didn’t hesitate long when I got this last 3am text message from the redhead asking me to come over. Without me saying anything he was quick to mention that he would pay for my gas money and add to my scarf fund. He told me that he could make my “money troubles a thing of the past.” I could also have “whatever was in his wallet.” At that, my ears perked up and I became wide awake. If he wanted to be my sugardaddie and all I had to do was moan for a few minutes I was all over it. Playing hooker for my old high school friend was not beneath me at this point. And as I mentioned before, despite the fact that I didn’t feel we were sexually compatible he still really was a nice and fun guy. I was definitely willing to work on making this a mutually beneficial relationship. Please remember, at this point, I still hadn’t so much as asked him for a dime. He was the one doing all the offering. I got up, got dressed and headed over to Hollywood with my own dreams. Dreams of paying my cable bill. Dreams of making this months rent. Dreams of keeping my cell phone on. Dreams of eating! I got there and I got to work. It was horrible. It was like playing “Deepthroat” with Santa Clause. I also should have known that he’d already had a few beers so him getting off was not going to be easy. And it wasn’t. He kept losing his erection. We’d get on a roll and he’d slip out. All my hard work gone to waste and we’d have to start all over. Do you know how hard it is to get a good pace going with a 4” limp dick? Let me assure you, it isn’t fun. Finally, after I was dried up and sore from the pounding he finally popped. He passed out right away and it took me hours to get to sleep. That morning I got ready to leave. He slipped some money into my purse saying he didn’t forget he had offered to pay my gas. I left, got into my car and drove away. I opened up my purse expecting to find a little dough and immediately felt as though I had been kicked in the stomach. I couldn’t help but laugh when I noticed the $20 bill sitting in my purse. So typical. I didn’t know if I should feel insulted or if he really forgot offering me financial assistance. Considering I had just put $10 into my car for gas to get there, I basically sold my ass for the other $10. Nice. I think even Hunts Point girls make more than that. Looks like I won’t be turning Pro anytime soon. It appears as though my negotiating skills leave a lot to be desired… Mike The Schoolteacher 09/07/2009
As a child my hormones kicked in at about 11 years of age. I hadn’t even so much as kissed a boy yet knew that I wanted to have sex with one. I wasn’t quite sure what sex meant but I knew it involved kissing, fondling and a bed. Preferably a very cushy bed. Of course, fast forward 7 years and me witnessing my first penis and I almost fainted. “You want me to put THAT WHERE?!?” Thus began my fascination with just about every male school teacher I had. Seeing pictures of my former teachers now, years later, I was clearly blind. But, at the time there was just something about these teachers wielding their iron rule over hundreds of students that made me want to get naked. So, when Mike the Schoolteacher emailed me through Plentyoffish.com my mind jumped back to my Lolita days and I felt the sudden urge to play The Police. Unlike my schoolgirl crushes this guy was very good looking by today’s standards. I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t have every intention of playing detention with Mr. Mike. Mike the Schoolteacher was a 34 yo, 6’1”, non-smoker looking for a long-term relationship. He never married, had no children and lived just down the street from me. Here’s what he had to say in his profile: “I'm from Indiana. And I teach (so I'm off all summer!). I've been told that I'm wine spitting funny and I'm the best boyfriend LA county! I would be interested in meeting open-minded (No prudes:), conscious and enlighten individuals who happy with who they are and may be into snowboarding, camping, dogs, working out and motorcycles. I'm looking forward too meeting new people. picky and lonely are friends and the enemy of happiness Thanks for looking.” Now, if I see one more profile that says I’m going to fall in love with you, my family would adore you or you are the best boyfriend in town, I’m going to shoot myself. If you are so fucking wonderful then why are you single and why are you online? You should have been snatched up years ago and living the life that most of us can only hope for. So please, spare me your egotistical overconfidence when you know that you are just as fucked up as the rest of us. Also, for him to write he’s interested in “meeting open-minded (No prudes please)…individuals” basically tells me he’s looking to get laid. Not that I mind that but what I find ironic is how he can state that he’s looking for long-term when he really wants to stick his dick in your mouth. How many of the men you’ve boned on a first date have taken you home to meet momma? None? My point exactly. So yes, I met him anyway. I have a tendency to over think things and am a bit cynical (oh stop it, you say) so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. We talked on the phone and our personalities seemed to mesh quite well. Of course, that’s not really saying a lot considering that I can pretty much hold a conversation with an empty chair. But, he was cute, tall and made me laugh so off to meet him I went. On a whim, we decided to meet at one of the local Starbucks. Unfortunately, the Starbucks was just closing so we ended up talking in the parking lot for about an hour. He was interesting. I almost felt like I was interrogating him with all the questions I had about school girl crushes and his experiences with them. When he started to tell me about how cute some of the girls were and how many of the male teachers at his school actually dated some of those girls my adult instincts started to kick in and I wasn’t so turned on anymore. He assured me that he wasn’t a serial killer and asked me back to his place for a beer. I obliged. Once inside he turned on the T.V. and he went to change. When he came back and gave me a kiss I didn’t think much of it. When he straddled me and tried to stick his dick in my mouth The Police soundtrack that was playing in my head came to a screeching halt. Not only was his pecker not as big as I had hoped but he was well…trying to stick his dick in my mouth. Needless to say, we haven’t gone out again… |