Featured Blogs That Get More Views Than Mine: Life and Dreams of an Unchained Heart

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About a week ago my phone buzzed erratically at 3:30 am. I’d been having trouble sleeping the past couple weeks anyways, due to the slaughter-fest of people getting laid off at my job. I assumed it was L, a girl I’ve been seeing (who is normally awesome but is cruising for a muff punch lately) but to my surprise it was a notification of someone liking my post. Before I could put it back down, the phone vibrated¬† again and again.

This went on for a half hour straight. Rather than learn how to turn off the notifications on my iPhone, something that should be easy for an Engineer, I decided peek over at her site. It’s the least I could do. Not only did she read every post, but she left a few comments. Kudos. I’m sure she’s aware, this is how Darbis E Cashed likes to give back to the WordPress community. So without further ado.

The first thing I did was read over the comments she left. I was completely dumbfounded! This girl CAN FUCKING WRITE! Holy shit! I think I might be in love. For someone who spent the better part of last Sunday night getting verbally ass raped at a writers critique, it was definitely raised a tired eyebrow. I get excited for these kind of descriptions.

I suppose telling her that you jacked off while waiting for her response probably wouldn’t have gone well, but a pile of cum on the floor is essentially what this woman turned out to be.

Yikes! Harsh. I’m 5’6″ with giant balls and a Napoleon complex to match. I live among Texas amazon women who literally rock a one step per sidewalk square stride. To some of them I physically don’t enter their mind space, probably similar to how the Giant felt about Jack before the whole bean stock incident. I get ignored a lot both online and in person, but yet have never referred to any women as a pile of cum. I don’t know, I guess I’m old fashioned that way.

Clicking over to the About page I learned a lot. She’s a New Yorker (had a hunch from the comment), a total plus in my book. I love east coast people, most honest motherfuckers you’ll ever come across. I’d rather have that than this fake southern hospitality bull shit I’m surrounded by.

To me this girl is living the dream. Has a part time gig. Gets to write all day. Doesn’t have to deal with questions around the coffee pot like “How was your weekend?” when you know Frank from accounting just wants to tell you about his Daughter’s 3rd grade play. The mother fucking dream! But reading further things get interesting.

She’s bipolar and navigating her way through the online dating scene.

…….And now you have all my attention.

I dated a girl who was bi-polar once. At least I think she was, she might of just been crazy. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. But it was a wild ride to say the least. One moment she would be tearing my clothes off, trying to snap my cock with her pelvis. And a few hours later, she’d be leaving sobbing voice mails about how she had no one in her life and “really needed me to pick up the phone or else I’D COME OVER THERE AND BURN YOUR FUCKING PLACE DOWN!” Naturally I had to let that one go. It was just a bit too much for me. But I will say she was hot. They always are. And I’m willing to bet Ms. Shattered Wishes is not too bad on the eyes either.

In all seriousness, I know how hard dating can be. Shit I’m just starting to get to the big 3-0 and feel like I still have a lot to learn. I’ve dated in damn near 20 of the 50 States from all types of girls on the socioeconomic spectrum, with all types of backgrounds and as anyone can tell, I have a pretty hard time with it. And, well fuck, I’m just polar. I can’t imagine what adding another level of difficultly that on top of that could do.

So I truly mean it when I say, good luck out there Missy. I tip my hat to you. But honestly, I think I’m going to need more of that luck than you do. Your posts read like you have a pretty good head on your shoulders, probably better than mine. If you ever find yourself in Texas let me know, we’ll go on a random online 4 way date and make it really awkward for the other two people.

Thanks for reading my dumb little blog about jerking off to tinder pictures.

Overall: 9/10 Would read again

 

 

 

 

 

You’ve Got Mail

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When Dan got home he checked his mailbox again. No black dot. He let out a sign of relief and locked his 2016 Eclipse. A nice mid range sports car he’d given himself for turning 54.

It was quiet, like it always was. The way he preferred it. He walked inside, placed his shoes in the spotless shoe cubbie he cleaned twice a week and switched on the lights.

“Dooo Dumb Dumb,” He sang. “Dee Dee Dee Dum.”

He tapped the warn out preheat oven to 350 and dug through the freezer. “There it is!” He yelled. The ice made a scrapping noise as he grabbed the Stoufer’s Lasagna. Spinach and whole grains. A smile came across his face, he was finally entering the healthy lifestyle.

He floated over to his computer chair and shook the mouse. The screen popped up the exact same place he left off before work. It was a forum called “Suspicious minds, Now Awake.” A few clicks and he began typing away.

“I didn’t see one yet today. A total of 67 days straight. Looks like nobody is on to us Comrades!”

He pushed over the half empty bottle of Jergens and grabbed the fully packed bowl. As he took a rip, the oven began to beep. “Time to make the doughnuts!” He said to himself. He got up and attended to the needs of the Lasagna.

On his way back,¬† the computer flashed. “NEW REPLY!” It was Abbie-HoffMAN3620 a favorite poster of his. “Me either comrade. I’m glad to see it! You never know what the damn Roth Childs are going to come after us!”

Dan took another rip of the bowl. “Your damn right Abbie. Can’t be too careful,” he Thought as he began to scroll through more threads.

*****

“Dude stop being a Bitch!” Steve said.

“I’m not man. It’s just you know him. He talked to me for 2 hours today about this shit. Like I couldn’t even think about what I was doing.” Brad answered. Clucking the door handle.

He continued, “I mean you’ve met the guy. He’s definitely a little off.”

“Yea but he’s also a DICK BOSS! Remember how he MADE YOU go into work for your Mom’s Operations? Like What the fuck?” Said Steve.

“Yea your right. Fuck it. Let’s get this bitch!” Brad said.

The rusted camry’s door creaked as it opened. Brad shook the Sharpie a few times as jumped out of the car.

********

The next day Brad walked into work and Tom was stocking the beer cooler. Always a funny sight to see a short 63 year old on a step stool. But Tom was a funny guy. Plus, every time you saw him a bonus was near.

“Strange to see you here this early boss. Leading another managers meeting today?” Brad asked.

“Hey! There he is! Nah brotha, no meeting. But I need to give you a heads up.” He climbed down the latter in a serious face.

“Dan never showed up this morning. I went by his place and it was a mess!”

“A mess? That doesn’t sound like him.” Brad said.

“I know the whole thing is really weird. I mean no warning. No notice. Shit the son of a bitch took off so fast he didn’t even close his mailbox! Haha you believe that?”

Brad gulped.

 

The Long Walk Over

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Thump, thump.

Fuck. There’s that familiar feeling that takes over. All it takes is a quick glance at an hour glass figure welded to a cute face. Next thing I know, my mind takes off like the Indy 500.

Mind: She thinks I’m too short. I’m not dressed well enough. Her elbows are too pointy. She knows I went to the emergency room once because I jammed a bead in my nose. She’s probably a bitch or has huge salami nipples that are bigger than my face. Like I’ll probably put in all this work to find out that one of her boobs is lopsided. I’ll take off her shirt to find out that she saved up for this boob job only to have complications during the second implant. Her doctor felt so bad that he helped her with a nice stuffing cover up to make her less insecure about not being a full figured woman. Hence why she’s wearing a sweater. Real crafty Biggy Smalls, but I’m on to you. So don’t bother because this is how it will play out: I go over there spark her interest, we chat for a while only to find out she’s really interesting. We have a connection about how Joe Strummer was our hero back in high school. We go back to my place to listen to the Clash records and I find out her dirty little secret. Be Honest, do I really want to put myself though that?

I get up and start walking over. My mind picks up the pace.

Mind: What the fuck Darby, do you not know how to listen? So you’re really gonna go over there, what are you gonna say? Are you going to go with the typical, “Hi I’m Darby.” That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard. She gets that all the fucking time by richer guys with a Maserati. Not an ’05 Honda civic that doesn’t even have automatic windows. Like she probably doesn’t even know how to work a window crank. She’s gonna get in on the first date and be all like, “I’m hot. Get me out of here! I need a REAL man that can afford REAL windows.” So lets just save the trouble huh? Just turn around now. Alright fuck it! I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but she’s got a boyfriend. That’s why she’s buying two cups of coffee. It’s the only logical reason because there’s no way she can consume that much coffee on her own. Darby turn the fuck around now! You’re just going to look stupid front of all these people. You come in here all the time, they’re all going to see you look stupid and call everyone they know. From there everyone in the entire Dallas area will know that you’re a fucking loser. You’ll get laughed at when you walk down the street and into Target. They’ll be like “There goes my name is Darby guy. You gonna ask for my number too faggot.”

I stop in front of her.

Mind: Bro pretend that you were gonna get something. It’s not worth it. There are million girls out there. For all you know she’s got a dick. Probably bigger than yours, not like it’s hard, micro penis boy. You know you’re packing a mini Tootsie Roll down there. Just TURN THE FUCK AROUND NOW!!! IT”S NOT FUCKING WORTH IT! YOU’RE JUST GOING TO GET REJECTED! She knows that you’ve jerked off into tube socks. Or that you’ve watched a live show of a women fucking a horse and became strangely aroused. SHE’S NOT LOOKING FOR ANY OF THIS SHIT! YOU BETTER NOT SAY A FUCKING WORD!

“Hey, how’s it going. I’m Darby.”

We chit chat for a while about how we both have just moved here and exchange numbers. I walk out of the coffee shop.

Mind: See, I told you she’d like you.