There is this wimminz who shall be nameless, her name and identity aren’t relevant, what is relevant is the fact that all it took was the passage of time for her to progress from being someone that many could claim was a possible NAWALT, into someone who is undeniably AWALT.
You know, they talk about men being shit at seeking medical help, but the wimminz I know, and this one is one of them, are worse than shit, unless it is some bullshit make believe “illness”.
To me, it is literally beyond belief that you can have symptoms so severe you are seeing the doctor two or three times a week, and you are dosed up to the eyeballs and largely non-functional seven days a week, and you can let weeks and weeks and weeks go by, and still not even have a fucking diagnosis.
Well it could be this, or that, or the other, so we will change this drug for that drug, come back and see me in a week and we will see if there is any change.
It’s like going to a garage because your car is playing up, badly, and the mechanic is suggesting you wash it, maybe try some redex in the fuel, how about opening the windows, hmm, did you try keeping the interior lights on when you drive, come back and see me next week and we will see if their is any change.
She communicates with me the same way she communicates with the other guys she is randomly fucking, but thinks saying (to each of us) “*they* are just friends” is some magic elixir, oh, gee, yeah, I’ll buy that for a dollar.
The goldfish orbital period (a goldfish allegedly having a memory that only lasts six seconds) for this one is apparently six months, because an increasing number of things are coming out of her mouth that are in direct contradiction to previous statements, when I pointed this out to her today, with a smirk, she said that things with her and me, relationshit wise, were complex, I said no, you’re just a lying cunt, and I can’t trust a single thing you tell me, that’s the only real impediment to a relationshit between us, and it is all down to you.
It didn’t go down well… lol
So here I sit, not responsible for her, her health, her welfare, her well-being, her happiness, or her kids, and what was in it for me.
Admittedly, very good sex, but, no sex is *that* good, and that is the conundrum… for wimminz at least.
Meanwhile this other married skank ho that is sniffing around says something equally dumb, she asks if I am spoiled for choice, she guesses so, from my attitude, and I am certainly in her queue of men.
Listen bitch, you are either available to me when I feel like it, or you aren’t, I got no interest at all in who else takes turns fucking you, including your husband, I got no connection to any of them, but hear me well on this, any cunt that thinks they can put me in a fucking queue or on hold while the deal with some other asshole can go and fuck themselves, because my dealings with them just ended.
So she is either going to switch from one fake personailty to another and tell me I am obviously a real man and when do I want her, or she isn’t, and I will cease to exist to her.
My money is on the former, as I am seeing a trend where the same wimminz will openly have two or three different profiles on one fucking site, asking for different things on each… hello bitch, we can all fucking read…. you’re just drawing attention to the fact that you are a duplicitous fake bitch… WTF…
Or it could just be that in the validation cup cake shop nobody is buying the bitches the 10 dollar cakes any more, so they set up ten profiles and hope to get 10 x 1 dollar slices of said cake… I dunno.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a downer on da wimminz, they keep me in work….
In my day job today imagine a client that runs a garage, all that garage does is supply and sell and service one make and model of car, and todays problem was to sort out problems that did not exist.
Car A drove perfectly, but it only had a downtown parking permit, and it did not open the door to Mr Smith’s garage.
Car B drove perfectly, but it only had an uptown parking permit, and it did not open the door to Mr Jones garage.
Turns out, the wimminz manager, when Mr Harris brought his car in saying it wasn’t working, gave Mr Harris the car belonging to Mr Jones, and Mr Jones the car belonging to Mr Smith, and Mr Smith eventually the car belonging to Mr Harris, what’s the fucking problem, they all look the same, and they all work, right…
Except OnStar noted that Mr Jones’s and Mr Smith’s cars were not where they were supposed to me, so a 4 hour fix SLA was invoked, twice, for me to go out and find these cars and fix them and so on.
4 hour fix SLA’s aren’t cheap, they are fucking expensive, and typically you buy them in a bunch, rather like coupons or cheques in a chequebook, and when you use them up, it costs another large wad of cash to buy the next batch.
So people get pissed when wimminz managers try to fix problems themselves, and end up creating far more expensive ones.
I shit you not, last year one time I drove 110 miles each way on a 4 hour fix SLA, when I got there I opened the carton, unpacked the USB keyboard, and fitted it to the PC by placing it on the desk and plugging in the USB lead, to replace the one with the missing left shift key, on the wimminz pooter…. the keyboard was worth maybe 12 bucks… maybe…