This girl started flirting with me on Twitter the other day. She was saying how much she loved my website. I thought “Sweet, a groupie. Maybe I can HAVE SEXORZ WITH HER.” So I said we should get married, and posted a cute picture of a wedding cake with the bridegroom and bride on top, the bride popping her leg.
Spread 'em!
Then she said something like “So how have you been anyway? It’s been ages since we talked.”
My mind started racing. Who was this crazy girl on Twitter who thought she knew me. Maybe it was karma from the other night when I rang that girl’s phone number in her face and she had no idea who I was.
Then I realised I’d tried to pick her up like two years ago on Myspace. Her name was Fantasia. She flaked on me and I’d gotten pissed off and told her I was going to date some girls who had integrity and morals, and weren’t total bubbleheads. Or some shit like that.
Of course, I kept trying to ring her after that every couple of months because she was superhot, and actually pretty cool when she wasn’t rejecting me repeatedly. She wouldn’t pick up my phone calls.
However, she would return them. I’d pick up the phone and say “Hello.” And she would say “Who is this???” And I would say “Kurt”. And she would hang up.
I posted the short version of this story on my Facebook status, saying that if I did nail her, I would count it as the first time I got laid purely off my site. Then I forgot about my fanciful status update, and I added her on Facebook. A notification came up on my feed saying she’d commented on my status. Oops. “Lol,” she had craftfully typed as a comment. I had to laugh.
I also realised I’d already had sex with one of her friends, who had breasts so large, when she wore a corset she could motorboat herself.
I kept asking Fantasia for her phone number, but she was like “oh I just got through a break-up and I’m so busy.” I’m like “IRRELEVANT.”
She never gave me her number. I’ll probably still have sex with her though, when I’m hanging out at the Pascoe Vale Hotel in three years time and she doesn’t recognise me. I’ll introduce myself as James Bondage. Then I’ll charm the pants off her, and put my business card in her cleavage in the morning.
Got milk?
+
My business card
=
Revenge.
That’ll learn ‘em.
Ah well. I guess the Flawless Retard Method can’t work all the time.
A system guaranteed to have girls drooling! Not with desire though! Credit: Adrian Norman
Seriously though, you’d think that if a girl was a fan of my website, she’d be able to handle my shit. I guess there’s no accounting for good taste. Sometimes when I’ve been talking to a girl for a while, like a week or so, I wonder if she could take it if she knew I write a website where I describe my adventures about having sex with women. That’s why I’m going to order myself one of these:
Consent or GTFO
That way, I can separate the girls who are too crazy to deal with me, from the ones who are crazy enough to deal with me.
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executive executive… nice