O Romeo, O Romeo, where for art thou?

So its Friday, and I am feeling quite melancholy. Why do most [young] people look forward to the weekend as the time to go out and have fun? I haven’t experienced that feeling in a long time. I mean, all I have to look forward to is another job to work, no possible social prospects or hook-ups. Great life huh? I mean, really am I THAT grotesque that hot people are not knocking down my door trying to rip off [my rather large] genitalia, just so that they can have some sort of keepsake in my own memory? You know what though? I have been told that I am very flakey, and that I bring all of this on myself. Yes, I do have prospects – wait scratch that – used to have prospects, but I have this horrible knack of finding almost EVERYONE so lame. Except for said Ex. With that said, I start to not return calls, or find some reason why I cant be in relationship. I then try to establish a sexual relationship, NSA, but by then its usually too late. By the time I realize that I am not interested, they have realized that they are and its all or nothing. So contrary to popular belief, dudes can be promiscuous. But at the end of the day all they want is some good ol’ fashion lovin. I mean, I have had hotties that would make you want to slap your mother, millionaires, people who can be your best friend AND your best friends best friends. But all of them are such lames, except for the best friends best friends. We still talk, but not attractive enough. Really I don’t have high standards, I really just want to chill with someone my age, cool, got something going for them, attractive with sex appeal. Is that REALLY so hard to find? I really don’t think I am looking for something out of my league, simply because I am not looking for that much.

So with that said, quite melancholy again…

I'm bringing sexy back?

So its been quite a while since I have given you guys an entry. Frankly, I am bored with your despondent asses. No one cares that I work my ass off just to get attention from you guys. But alas, no comments, not you are a crazy mother fucker, no hello, how are the kids? Or, I think you should seek psychiatric help. No anything. I even have an entry about suicide thinking that eventually someone will respond/help. NO! So what do I do. I abandon you. I run away to become an aspiring stripper. No really, I have been thinking about it. I visited my friend recently in Rhode Island, and we put on a strip show Its so much fun…. no really. I feel like you can be anything that you want to be as a stripper. Its great! You can pretend like you are the sexiest mutha fucker in the universe. Everyone watches you pump and gyrate, and it’s the best. Its like look at me as I “back that thing up.” Does that make me a slut? Maybe. Do I enjoy? Hell yeah! Am I embarrassed about it? Not so much. I think everyone has a secret hidden stripper fantasy, back in the recesses of their brain….. Like deep deep recesses, but its there. And I am here to help you bring it out. Come with me child. See the light and come. Um, so yea. I have this problem of feeling like I am devoid of the grown and sexy. So I pursue stripping to try to recapture that….wait not recapture, because I never had it….but I do like to try to persue it. What the fuck can I do to be sexy? I mean, can you share some sexiness with me too? You know how like, Kate Moss n Tyson Beckford just ooze sexiness. I mean, they are just like photographed, yet you can smell the sex on their breath. I want to do that….thus, I over compensate in bedroom. yea, I said it. I am a nasty fuck in the bed. I am grinding, stripping, wine-ing, gyrating, flipping, pumping, straddling…sorry to be so graphic…but I am like, I gotta make up for not being a sexy mutha fucker… you kno. I kno u understand, its not like I am just making out, im like making out……. so yea, help please with my affliction?