Girls don't flirt with me in real life. Not like this one was. It was super cute and actually going somewhere, but before it actually could... The universe stepped in and made sure it could never be.
I hired a 19-year-old young woman to come model nude so that I could body paint her. Just to be safe I asked for her ID, and quickly found myself in a mad world of denial.
I live in Utah, land of the self-declared morally righteous. And this is my rant to those who want to come into my house, expecting me to live life by their standards.
Apparently there's a big movement trying to prove that people who use periods in their text messages are assholes. Well, this blogger ain't buying.
Beautiful woman. Check. Invitation up to her apartment. Check. Me making it awkward because of a weird underwear situation... Check.
I got drunk. And depressed. I wrote a blog post while in the thick of it. Well, I think I better write this as a follow-up before the world thinks I'm stuck in some eternal depressive hell.
Winter is fucking coming. I can feel it. Sure, the temperature dropped today, and sure, that should be my first big clue. But... Oh. Shit. Spoiler alert. I'm drunk. And I have ADD.
I've got a stage-four clinger in my life, and I'm not so sure how I should handle it, since I can't just breakup or move on like I usually would.
Life is good. Things are positive. Everything is going in the best direction. Things couldn't be better. But FUCK, that shit gets exhausting. Allow me to get balanced here...
This post started with me letting you in on a little secret. It ended with a long-overdue rant about the ways women in the dating world go out of their way to make me feel *so* special.
I just published a blog post about loving Valentines Day. Yes, I'm still single. And this is the real reason why, along with a couple responses to the icky trolls.
It's done. I survived. And now I will write to make myself feel better about the monstrosity that threatened my manhood, inside and out.
A special hell is coming my way, and there's not a thing I can do to avoid it. I don't apologize in advance for making you picture any of this. If I have to... You have to.
There's the more factual details I shared over on my other blog about my recent battle with kidney stones... Then there was all this shit from while I was high on pain meds...
Now, I don't wanna sound like a douche here, but it's probably inevitable. I do wanna be real about some things, though...
There was a lot of mystery surrounding the guy living in the apartment above me. But now I can say, with near certainty, that the dude has a firehose hanging between his legs.
I had a real-life nemesis, and he died. Just like that, he doesn't exist anymore. I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. I only know what I know about him.
I think there are a lot of people who love the idea of online fame. The thought of constantly showing up in people's feeds must be a good one because I have some Facebook friends who still post no fewer than three posts every single day. I have it. I don't actually like it...
I say "fuck." I say it a lot. I'm an avid poker player, and I'm surrounded by real life dastardly degenerates more often than I care to admit. Of course I'm going to...