Well, I Guess It's Suicide For Me

I think of a lot of stuff to write whenever I'm home, but with the computer in the frigid basement, I usually just opt to sit and stare at the furniture in the living room.

Break has been ok. The first two days I spent playing God of War, which I beat on Saturday in under nine hours. Sunday and Monday I just sat on my ass, and it was beautiful.

But by Tuesday, God decided that I was in too good a mood, and everything has gone downhill since.

Tuesday I had an internship with News 12, which didn't go so well. I thought it was going to be the usual interview, but instead it was with another applicant. By coincidence, the person I was interviewed with not only happened to be from Oneonta, but someone I have had a lot of classes with. So me and her go in, the lady asks us, "Why do you want to intern at News 12?" That was the only question. The rest of it was her telling us about the place. They only take 30 people a summer, and I heard the secretary telling her, "How many more today?" So I figure a lot of people applied, and the interview didn't give me a good feeling when it was over. So that ruined my day.

(As a sidebar, I hung out with Joe Gibbs last night, and we played God of War from 10pm to 4am.)

So today, fucking fantastic. I got up at 10:30 this morning, cleaned, vacuumed, and washed my car for the first time in almost a year. Took a shower, got in the car to go to Kristin's, and get a phone call from Silva.

"Yo Dave: bad news, man. I got an IM from Miller, said for me to tell you that the MIC said they don't want anything to do with us anymore and we can't use their equipment for WONYpalooza. Gotta go."

Now Silva is infamous for having poor skills at ending a conversation on the phone, but I don't know if it was because he knew I would freak out, because why didn't Miller just tell me herself? I get the feeling no one likes to give me bad news. Regardless, I spent the rest of the day screaming at Kristin and giving myself high blood pressure trying to figure out what to do. And remembering that I have two quizzes, a speech, and two tests within a week of getting back. So the rest of my break will be spent doing homework and trying to figure out what the fuck I'm going to do about getting equipment for the show.

Great relaxing fucking week.

Oh, and I found out where my brother is living in Arizona next year. Keep in mind, my dad recently told me that I would have to pay for my own food next year, because we have no money:

The Village on University

So my brother gets to live in a fucking palace and go to "school", while I get ulcers and scrimp so I can eat. That's fair.


OH SOMEBODY KILL ME PLEASE/SOMEBODY KILL ME PLEASE/I'M ON MY KNEES/PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE/KILL ME

I Have Been Busy

I'll write about what's been going on the past few days tonight, I promise. In the meantime, here's this:

You Want Fingers With That?

Honestly, how the hell does this happen? This is the sort of thing that people just say about fast-food to make it sound gross to people who don't care. But really, there's a line that was crossed with this one. I'm going to make sure I watch out for any follow-up story when they find out how it got there, because I'm racking my brain, and I can't think of any logical reason.

OH FUCK

Fucking insane.

Poor Man's Spring Break

Since I'm too poor to afford any trips for next week's break, I guess this weekend was the universe's way to even things out. Kind of. Even though it was fun, it still doesn't compare to going on a trip to a tropical beach.

St. Patty's Day was pretty fun, even though I didn't drink. I headed down to Kodi's about five to hang out for an hour before my radio show which Silva so cowardly weaseled out of. All week he doesn't say a word to me about not doing the show on St. Pat's, then waits until I put up an away message on Thursday afternoon to leave an IM saying something along the lines of:

"dude dont know if im going to make the show tonight ill cover a show of yours whenever you want i swear"

I unexpectedly drop by the house, Silva's already half in the bag, and I fuck with him a little bit by turning the tables and asking him if he minds doing the show alone because I want to party. He made this classic face of awkwardness, shrugged, and said "Uhhhhhhhhhhh........I was.........kinda hopin'..........you'd do it."

I told him I would but called him a coward for bailing at the last second, he laughed and said he was scared to confront me, like I'm his dad and he's telling me he got a girl pregnant. But I was given mad props for calling him all on it, and it made me feel happy inside. I love mad props.

Kodi was a complete mess, running around in some 1978 track uniform. Luckily I showed up when he had clothes on, because he not only ran down Church St. nude, but also told me later how he pulled out his dick playing beer pong, and since it was flaccid, he was pulling on it like Silly Putty to try and stretch it out. Kodi is seriously one of a kind.

After I left, people hung out, Bill got electrocuted and had to go to the hospital, blah blah blah, just your usual St. Patty's Day stuff.

Friday and Saturday were also spent at the house just hanging out, nothing too crazy, but just fun.

Oh fuck. Except that Kodi was smashed on Saturday night and started eating weeks old tomatoes whole for no reason. Everyone convened in the kitchen to watch him down three moldy tomatoes. Everyone laughed. Then trying to keep the fun going, we took down a bottle of vinegar off the fridge. This kid fucking starts to chug vinegar. Just watching it made literally everyone gag. Then he squeezes maple syrup into his mouth. Then starts taking swigs of soy sauce.

Then throws up half-digested tomatoes all over the kitchen floor.

He later told me that it was the soy sauce that threw him over the edge. I would have thought soy sauce would have been easier going down than distilled vinegar, but live and learn.

We headed down to the OST afterwards. Me, Silva, Dustin, and Lisa K. sat around a table and watch some fat girl in tight ass clothes make out with six different guys, as well as make an attempt to dance, which just resulted in witnessing cellulite ripple like a stone thrown into a pond. It disgusted us so much we started to freestyle rap about how gross it was. True, we are just two white dorks and an Asian dude, but we spit mad shit.

Which brought an end to my poor man's spring break. Sure, it didn't involve a sunny beach or a foam party, but I bet you never get to see a kid drink vinegar in Cabo.



Mmmmmm......basic.

I Got A Blarney Stone You Can Kiss RIGHT HERE!

Kent Brockman: Top o' the morning to ye on this gray, drizzly afternoon. Kent O'Brockman live on Main Street, where today everyone is a little Irish, except, of course, for the gays, and the Italians.

Ah, yes, St. Patrick's Day. The day that grips Oneonta by the throat and strangles the town until it is a lifeless mass covered in its own vomit and urine.

This town takes its Patty's Day celebrations seriously; not only do most people wake up earlier than they do on any other day, and not only do they not go to any classes, but this past week I've seen kids getting genuinely PISSED at their teachers for scheduling anything either on, or the day after St. Patrick's Day. In my Composition class, the kids weaseled the teacher into pushing paper a paper's due date, and in the class I TA for, some girls were really, really pissed that a test was being given tomorrow, the day after.

So basicially students think St. Patty's Day is a four day weekend.

I am not partaking in the festivities this year, as I have a big speech I have to give tomorrow at 9am, and don't feel like fucking it up.

The only thing that makes me a little unhappy about not taking part in the festivities is around 5:30 this afternoon, when the majority of the revelers are out of their minds drunk and having a fantastic time, and I'm hunched over a textbook studying. This is the hardest part of the day; I begin to question whether it's right to put my schoolwork before fun. But then tomorrow when I'm doing my speech and not bloated, purple, and dead on a toilet, it'll seem worth it.

I can hold off until next year: not only will it be senior year and most of my friends will be 21 by then, but St. Patty's Day is also on a Friday. Just imagine the possibilities.

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone. Hopefully your liver will forgive you.


Liver of a SUNY Oneonta student after 4 St. Patick's Days.

"Dave's Blog Is Fantastic Fun!" - Raves InStyle Magazine

We have made another fan of this site out of the Captain, who I'm assuming stumbled across the link for the site during an 'Away Message Check' at work.

Mabbes22 (1:52:23 PM): i have wasted 2/3 of my work shift reading your blog
Mabbes22 (1:53:10 PM): i could be doing something like looking for internships or playing bmx backflips
Mabbes22 (1:53:15 PM): you are my hero Abrams

Hecubus330 (1:49:20 PM): captian is loving your blog
Hecubus330 (1:49:40 PM): Mabbes22 (1:49:25 PM): this kid needs to write a book
Mabbes22 (1:49:28 PM): hes the maddox of Oneonta

After a short screentest to assess my reading abilities, I am now officially the Sports anchor for Venue on Wednesdays. Which means for the zero people who watch Channel 78 on campus or channel 23 in Oneonta, they will get to see my ugly mug talk for a few minutes on a TV set reminsicent of someone's basement setup for a cable access show during the '70s.

Me and Gish traded stories about how many times we have run from the police and not gotten caught. He had one, I had two. I win because of my extensive training in Metal Gear Solid.

Has anyone seen this Kotex tampon ad describing all the roles a woman has to play in one day? It says how women have such a fucking burden on their shoulders, they have so be so many things to so many people everyday:

"Every woman needs to be a girlfriend, a tomboy, a vixen, a maverick, and a genius....all in one day!"

Get real. It's called living a life. See, its things like this that make girls unpleasable. If they get this notion in their heads that they are such dynamic and incredible people just for not being robots and doing one activity all day long, they are bound to demand of their significant others everything they think they deserve, because they are worth it.

You don't see commercials for guys saying:

"Since you have to be a provider, a protector, a Herculean god, a tender romantic, a Victorian gentlemen, and a daredevil all in one day, Oberto's Beef Jerky is the jerky for you."

For some inexplicable and unnerving reason, they have a forum on the Kotex Pantyliners website; what they expect people to be talking about is beyond me. However, someone has touched on this subject.

But I'm over it until the next time I see it.

As a parting gift, here is the answer that has plagued those who play pool at the OST for centuries.

Talk About Confidence

Yeah, this makes me feel very good about next year, sounds like people really believe in me:

silvamania: thats what everyone was sayin
silvamania: your like rob
silvamania: your merely a shadow of him

Rob Ax 660: no I was the Neo of Wony, you are just one of the people who gopt killed in the first one
Fantom05 : I was that little mouser kid
Rob Ax 660: exactly
Rob Ax 660: you managed to get out of the matrix, but when you did, you were just useless

Thanks a bunch, fuckers.

This Thought Popped Into My Head During Fundamentals of Management Class

Has anyone ever seen pictures or videos of little kids who are bodybuilders? Like they're 7 years old, and they're rippling with muscle?

It is so fucking weird.

Busted like Lisa Kingsbury's Face

My Bachelor Night was a complete bust. I was down at the OST until about 6:30 tonight handing out WONY T-shirts and hanging out with Silva, Meg, and Miller shooting the breeze.

I tried to catch the bus after I left, but since OPT makes up the bus schedule day-by-day, I ended up sitting at the stop at the parking garage for a while freezing in the snow.

I had to walk up to Silva's apartment and sit there for a while since I didn't know when the bus was coming. We ended up watching the 'Newman-ium' episode of Seinfeld, then some Tech TV, with one attempt at sprinting towards the bus stop mixed in, only with it screetching away in my face.

I finally got home at like 8:30, and surprise surprise Gish is here. If you refer to my Bachelor Day guide, it is required for you to be alone. So out of all the days that he is not in the room, tonight has to be the one he chooses to spend hanging around and sleeping here. And of course my gay ass fucking RA roommate has to be Mr. Everything Needs to be Super Loud, and left his speakers on full blast, so all of this shit that happened tonight has had the fucking creaking and slamming of doors from Instant Messenger blaring through my wall.

So as I write this I am in kind of a bad mood. And I have to spend the entire day tomorrow doing work. Fuck-a-doodle-doo.

But on the plus side you can look at this comic strip I made:

Stupid Comic I Made

I have a feeling I might make a lot more of those.

Kings of All Media....In a 3-Mile Radius

Awesome radio show tonight. Silva and I brought a copy of Cosmo down and deconstructed it piece by piece, pointing out how it warps girl's mind into not being happy and content with relationships, and how it makes them think they are "worth it," when in reality they should just be happy with what they have.

It went on for literally 35 minutes, with plenty of calls and IMs. After we finished and played music for the last 20 min. of our show, we actually got a lot of calls from people telling us how funny they thought it was. Some girl said she was about to take a shower, but had to sit and listen to it because she liked it so much. Hooray for us.

Looking forward to the weekend, I'm not going to go out Friday, rather use the free time for a Bachelor Night. I'm so excited about it.

That's it. Have a quiz tomorrow in crazy teacher's class, yadda yadda yadda.

But before I go, does anyone else think that the phrase "Hilarity ensues" should NEVER be used in an article describing someone's death?

No More Pencils, No More Books, No More Management Teacher's Dirty Looks

So I'm taking this class where the teacher really sucks: she comes in and just reads off the PowerPoints that she got right from the textbook CD, breezes through things, saying only, "Eh, read it in the book," and seems just very unenthused at the whole situation.

But when we have a quiz or test, she turns into fucking Big Brother. In this tiny little classroom in the corner of IRC, she makes us moves all the desks around so that no one is sitting next to someone else, makes everyone put their bags and coats in the front of the class, has eleven different versions of the test, and scans the room while everyone is taking it like she is standing in a lookout tower in Attica with a semi-automatic in her hand.

Last Friday we took our first test, and surprise surprise, it was one of the hardest tests I've taken in a long time. Why is it that all the teachers who act like they don't give a fuck always have the hardest tests? Anyway, so the test was much harder than she said it would be, blah blah blah. We come in Monday, and she goes into this tirade about how everyone did very poorly, and how we all need to study more than the night before, and how she refuses to 'dumb' the class down just so people will do good.

This made me snap. She asked the class before we were done for the day if anyone had any suggestions on how the class could be improved to e-mail her. During the whole class period, I was hatching a plan to deal with this lady, because I was sick of her thinking she was some superstar educator when in reality her role was to read us lecture notes.

I went back to my room, made up a fake e-mail address on Yahoo!, and launched into what ended up to be a two page stanza on what was actually going on in the class. I kept it civil, but I called her out on not making up the PowerPoint or test questions on her own and just taking them from the book publisher, on the fact she just reads the notes to us without really giving us anything to supplement it, and how she acted like she didn't even care when she was in class. It was anonymous for the fact that I don't think a teacher can stay objective towards a student when a student has voiced such opinions. I don't feel like having this lady be on my ass for the next two months. I hesitated to send it, but then finally built up the courage and clicked the Send button.

Today was the first day of class since I sent it in.

She came in, thanked everyone for sending in suggestions, and then talked about how she got an anonymous e-mail.

"In twenty-three years of teaching, I have never had anything like this happen before. It really creeped me out. "

But you know what? Right after she got done talking about it, she announced she was going to restructure how our tests were given (now we're having a "test/quiz" every few chapters instead of some gargantuan test every month), and also went through the notes today a lot less rushed, explaining the theories and concepts fully.

I guess it pays to have a big mouth every once in a while.



Go over the notes? Nah, I don't feel like it, just read your textbook.
I'm going to talk about the piece of apple skin caught in my teeth instead.
Now, it was a Thursday, and I was eating a Granny Smith...

Missing like Everything But the Girl

It's been almost two weeks since I've posted anything worth mentioning. But I had one of those 'Back From Break' weeks. The kind where the teacher is trying to get everyone back into the swing of things by having a big test or something due when you get back from a break.

Unfortunately, all of my techers took this mentality, so I've been swamped; two tests, reading, speeches, etc.

But since I got over the hump of all that, I'll be able to post more regularly again.

Not that I've had much to talk about anyway. Unless you find studying Herzberg's 2 Factor Theory or learning about the North and South Bridges of a computer's chip set interesting.

So until next time.

Here is the manliest video of all time to occupy you until then.

Apache Gattling Gun

If we have shit like this, and are still not beating the shit out of Iraqi insurgents, something is wrong in the world.

Busy As a Bee, Lazy As a Fuck

Updates soon. Give me a break.

Conquering the Black Panther

WARNING: The following my bore you. It is about reading books.

In my senior year of high school, I began reading for pleasure again. I did when I was younger; I used to be obsessed with the Goosebumps books by R.L. Stine. But then reading became 'really gay', and I had more important things to do, like play Sega Genesis.

But because of a video game, and because of sheer boredom in my senior year English class run by the infamous Mr. Cannon, I started reading again. 1984 was the first book I picked up from that room on the 3rd floor of Harborfields, since I had heard a lot about it and knew the term 'Big Brother' came from it, I thought I'd give it a go.

Over the past 4 years, reading has become quite a pastime for me; if I don't have a book I'm reading at any particular point, I feel like I'm missing out on something. I found the Modern Library's Top 100 list of the 20th century that senior year, deciding since I knew nothing about 'great' literature, this was as good a place to start as any. But there was a monster on that list, #1 on the list: Ulysses.

Everything I read about the book summed it up as this gargantuan undertaking of literature; most agreeing it was more or less unreadable, but all saying it was a fantastic feat in literature. In fact, most of the people who compiled the Top 100 list who voted it to the top had never actually read the book cover to cover.

But as of today, Thursday, February 18 of 2005, I can say that I have read Ulysses in its entirety.

I was originally going to read this book first, but after reading such reviews as this and this, I put it off. I got 36 of the other books on the list under my belt before I decided I was ready to take on the monster. Kristin was taking a Joyce class in which they were going to read it, and they were having public sessions with the teacher (who is a Joycean scholar, yes, such a thing exists), so I thought I'd take the advantage of having a professional walk me through it so I could understand it as much as possible.

I only made it to a few of the meetings, and had only read about 1/3 of the book by the time the semester was through. But I wasn't going to stop; I had committed too much time, and I want to read every book on the list.

Now that I am done, I agree with those other Net reviews--kind of. The book is so fucking hard. You can't even imagine. I don't see anyone ever reading it all they way through just for the pure enjoyment of it. Parts of it get so tedious that I really wanted to stop, and I did for a long time, only reading about four or five pages a week. But I AM GOING TO FINISH THAT FUCKING LIST. In the past month, I put some major speed into it, and read about half the book since late December.

I never had a book consume my life like this; it was like a tumor, always following me around. Hell, I've been reading it since September, and I only finished today.

If you want a VERY brief and inaccurate synopsis, click here. That's the bare bones skeleton of the story. But there is SO MUCH symbolism, metaphors, and whatnot in this book, that although it might be difficult, it is quite an amazing, interesting read. I still can't believe how many layers there are to this book.

I know not many of you care, so I'll finish this up. I literally just finished it 20 min. ago and needed to vent somewhere.

I know most of the people that read this site don't read for leisure. Scratch that, I know you don't read period. And no, reading The DaVinci Code doesn't count as "I read sometimes." Which is fine, I'm not judging. But if anyone out there reads, and likes to read the classics, honestly.......I don't know if you could do it. I'm not saying I'm some superhuman literary master--far from it--but I had not only a teacher who had read the book ten times to consult on certain parts, but I also had the determination to finish it to cross it off my list.

I don't care what the other people said, this was a fantastic book. But you almost have to live it to really get something out of it. If you're cocky like those guys in those reviews and tried to read it without any assistance, then you have to get over yourself--you are not smart enough to read this book without any help. The ideas and things Joyce came up with are just amazing. But how smart can he really be if he wrote a book so inaccessible to everyone? That's not smart, because no matter how good a book is, if no one wants to read it, you've failed.

Whatever. Maybe I'm a nerd. I don't care. All I know is I conquered the 800-lb. gorilla of English literature, and I understood it. I'm proud of myself.


Throwaway...

Oneonta: God's Weather Test Lab

Oneonta has, without question, the most bizarre weather patterns on the planet Earth. In the past 72 hours, it has been 60 degrees, then snowed 2 inches, then 50 degrees, then snow melted in 34 degree rain. This morning it was 50 when I woke up, mostly cloudy. I went to a class with no windows. I come out 50 min.. later, and it is pouring rain; harder than I've seen it rain in a long time. I check the school's real-time weather, the temperature had dropped to 38 in, no joke, 15 minutes. As I write this, it is snowing and 34, and the sun is coming out. It's supposed to continue to snow until Saturday, with daytime highs in the teens. Then get warm again. Then a volcano is going to erupt on Main Street. Then we're going to get a torrent of blue ice, then a desert is going to consume the town. But don't worry, a glacier is predicted to be moving in next Monday.

No wonder everyone is sick. I was regaled with a story about how my Management teacher threw up on the side of the road the other day. My Public Speaking teacher had the shits, my roommate is on the verge of death, and Silva is having mouth infections.

Going home this Friday for our first week long break of the semester, but it won't be too relaxing, because not only do I have tests galore when we come back, but I also have an appointment to get my wisdom teeth pulled next Monday. I'm not too concerned about it right now, but I know the day before, it will finally hit me how much it is going to suck, and I'll hate life for a few days. People always say, "Who cares, dude? You get a ton of drugsssssssss.." Shut up. I don't care. I'd trade in being in a medicated stupor for days to be able to snap my fingers and have them out any day. I'm sick of feeling like a teething baby.

Whatever. I have to go write a paper on a "place" for advanced composition. Thanks for not being ambiguous, jerk.

Obligatory Social Commentary on Valentine's Day

It seems like you have to hate this holiday. Maybe not have to, but its cool to. It gets so tiresome to hear people ramble on about how it was just created by card companies to boost sales, like Secretary's Day and Christmas.

Walking around campus today, I was hearing people talking about it. Surprisingly, a lot of girls were saying how they don't 'celebrate' the holiday.

Yet is it coincidence that most of these same girls don't have boyfriends? Come on. You know if they had a boyfriend and he didn't get her anything, these same chicks would be bawling their eyes out. Don't pretend you don't want flowers and dinner and all that shit, because no one believes you. I bet you don't even believe yourself. It's almost like its a second birthday for women. Why would you give up a second birthday? You wouldn't, you liar.

Now for a guy, its a little more understandable: most guys do all the buying and paying on Valentine's Day. And I'm sure you know one of these guys who says things like, "Fuck that shit. Even if I had a girlfriend I wouldn't get her nothin'." But I would put money down that if these guys had some girl they knew that if they could take her out on Feb. 14th, wine and dine her, then take her home for a little of the old in-out-in-out, that they would jump at the chance. A guy doesn't mind shelling out cash as long as it leads to pussy. Any guy reading this: you know that if it was guaranteed that some hot chick you know would bone you, and all you had to do was buy a fucking bear and some candy, you would be all over it. Yes you would.

So to sum this all up, I dislike hearing people bitch about Valentine's Day. Just accept it. Yes, it is ridiculous that we are held at gunpoint by tradition to follow go out and buy candy and cards and flowers. But how is it any different from a birthday, if you think about it? A birthday really doesn't mean a thing. But we have to do it because its tradition. So the way I look at it, go out, spend $150 on shit that will be thrown away in a week, go eat some food by candlelight, stick the pee-pee in the hole, and accept it.


This guy believes in a thing called love.
Just listen to the rhythmofhisheart.

Bachelor Day

So yesterday I woke up at like 9, got up took a shower, etc. I went with Kristin, her roommate and their friend to breakfast at the Neptune. They all had some things they were doing together; going to see their friend play basketball, get some haircuts, go to a movie, change their tampons, you know, usual girl stuff.

This left me with a rare Saturday with really nothing to do. I got some work done early, but other than that, nothing was of terrible importance that needed to be done right away. It was going to be a Bachelor Day.

A Bachelor Day can happen with anyone, significant other or otherwise. All it really entails is being a complete lazy slob and doing nothing that could even be remotely construed as productive.

I knew this was also going to be a Bachelor Day for some others. I had to go down to Silva's house to retrieve my iPod from his house, where it was left for safe keeping instead of carrying it around in my pocket when I'm drunk, almost ensuring it would be lost. Anyway, so I go to his house. Everyone had left for the weekend, so he had the entire place to himself (which is an important element in a B.D.--total isolation).

I head in, and Silva looks as if he hadn't slept for three weeks, got hit by a train, and didn't bathe afterward. Grizzled face, wrinkled, stained, damp undershirt, worn and faded flannel pajama pants. His room had no lights on and had minimal light coming in from the cloudy, snowy day outside, there were clothes and papers everywhere, and sitting on his desk was the crust of a sandwich that had probably been eaten days ago. He was staring at his computer screen with a sniper's attention, playing Counter-Strike. This was the epitome of a B.D. if I had ever seen it.

I must have been subconsciously inspired, because I had a similar experience later in the day. I sat and listened to music while I browsed the Internet. Then I put in an old Western movie, got hungry, didn't fee like turning the movie off, so I ate cold soup straight out of the can. I ended up with soup all over front of my shirt, as well as the sleeves. When the movie was done, instead of turning it off, I just jumped on top of my bed with my sneakers on, folded my comforter in half and covered myself, and took a nap with the static DVD menu providing the only light.

I later ordered a pizza and watched another movie. Then I masturbated. Then I played video games.

The only way a day like this could be topped is if I won the lottery.

What the Fuck is Going On?

It's almost 4am, and for some unknown and eerily bizarre reason, I am looking at pictures of people with progeria online.

What the fuck?

STOP PLAYING GAMES

I swear that girls are born masochists. They love being upset and sad. Every one of them. For example, I read a profile with this quote in it:

Sometimes people put up a walls not to keep people out, but to see

who cares enough to break them down...

Now this isn't the first time I've read this before; I've seen a few girls either have it in profiles, or away messages, or some other nonsense.

This is usually written when a girl feels like someone, could be either a guy or one of their girlfriends but is usually a guy, is not making the effort to accommodate to their every whim.

For the record, I would like to say that anyone who subscribes to this or believes this is a valid way to live life should be poisoned. It is a perfect example of how girl's just thrive on playing little fucking baby games in relationships.

More or less what this implies is that the Girl was been acting like an asshole, being very snotty and evasive. Say the Guy asked the Girl if something was wrong. "No. Nothing. I'm fine," is the icy response Guy gets. At this point, Guy has two choices to make. He can either keep asking Girl to tell him what's bothering her, which is what Girl wants, or he can just say "Fuck it." and let Girl not get any satisfaction from sending him into this inane guessing game. It takes a man with strong nerve to take Option 2 right away. Most guys at least give Option 1 a try.

Now, it doesn't matter how much Guy persists in Option 1, Girl will swear up and down nothing is wrong, when something obviously is. This is the essence of what is wrong with Girl. Why would she do this to Guy? What is she trying to do? The answer is obvious, yet so amazingly frustrating I'm surprised men haven't killed all the women in the world as retaliation. She wants everyone she knows to pour all their attention on her; she needs to feel like people care about her. Fact is, there are so many other, more rational ways to go about this. But no, ALL girls will do this. There must be instructions on how this is done in the handbook given to every woman when she has her first menstrual cycle.

Anyway, Guy gets fed up with constantly asking and pining away to solve Girl's problems. Guy thinks "Fuck this. I'm not putting up with this shit anymore. Let her go be miserable." When Guy is finally pushed to this, that is when Girl puts up a quotation like the one above. She has isolated herself because no one wants to take her shit anymore. This makes her very upset, and claims she was just doing it to see who cared enough to try and make her feel better.

Well, you deserve to be miserable if you pull this. Now, any girls who are reading this, if you are honest with yourself, you have done this. No, don't shake your head. Don't tell yourself, "I'm not like that." You are like that. Trust me. You have done this. You might have done it and not even known it. But you probably did. You are all very methodical. But let me just inform you on something about men.

Men hate this more than anything. ANYTHING. If you ask a guy would he rather get kicked in the balls once a day, or have a girlfriend who plays little fucking games, he will say, "Kick me in the nuts everyday. It's less painful." It is. You all don't know how crazy this makes us.

Or you do. That's the problem. You know what makes us insane. And if you do this, knowingly plot this out and execute it, you are one of the worst creatures on earth.

But this post isn't even meant to just rip into you. I want to help you. Cause I know when a girl executes this, she ends up believing it and truly getting upset. So a word of advice that will save you heartache for the rest of your life: Never, ever, ever, play games in a relationship. If you are upset, say so.

If you do this, things will be worked out and better so much faster, and with so much less aggravation and stress, you won't believe it. Try it out. Next time you feel like being coy to your boyfriend, just tell him what you're thinking. You may surprise yourself at how well it works.

I told my boyfriend I wasn't upset, but I was!Why isn't he killing himself to make mefeel better?!?!?!

Post Over the Phone When You Have Nothing to Say