It's not surgery or employment levels of bothersome, but, after months of no activity I just had an exchange on geek2geek. A friend of a friend looked me up, liked my profile, and wanted to meet up. I checked out his profile and he's pretty clear about wanting slender women only. Eh, you want what you want, so no big. I wrote back to him pointing out that I was not only not slender, but probably a couple of dozen pounds beyond well-padded at this point, so I probably wasn't what he was looking for. No harm, no foul, thanks for writing.
His response was that he knew a lot of women who spent all their time lying around, eating food from McDonalds, and bitching about how their clothes didn't fit anymore. Not that he wanted to imply that I fit that profile. After all, I could have a thyroid problem. But his ex was a depressed fat chick, and he couldn't stand to go down that road again, as a matter of self preservation. So maybe we could meet up anyway, 'cause he's interested in being friends.
Normally I'd give my monitor the bird, hit "block member," and go on with my life. But as he's apparently friends with people I know (not that I've ever met him at their parties), I'm wondering if I should explain why I'm not interested in meeting him in this life or the next.
So, anyway, tool? Or total fuckin' tool?
Or total fuckin' tool?
Tino is a friend of a friend?
Who wants to write my self-assessment for me?
Done.
I can do it, I can run, I can hunt you down.
You can try, but you can't stop me 'cause I'm gaining ground.
I'm light on my feet and I'm quick to the punch.
I had a heavy breakfast, but a real light lunch.
I'm a raging bonfire, a cherry bomb, I'm me.
I'm rough-and-tumble, I'm the one to beat,
I'm a fresh coat of blacktop burnin' at your feet.
I've got a poisonous sting, when I rain I pour.
I'm the best of the best, I'm the soupe du jour.
I'm smooth as glass, and sharp as a tack, I'm me.
I'm the last and best stick of gum in the pack, I'm me.
I'm a strong woman, fast-talking, big-bad-dog walking,
High falutin', drum-beatin', foot stompin', corn-poppin',
Speeding locomotive that just won't stop!
I'm a hot apple pie with a cherry on top!
I'm a crowd pleasin', head spinnin',
Winnin' in the ninth inning,
Whip-lashing, record-smashin',
Black-tie party crashing!
Cyclone of fun, I'm an army of one!
I'm strawberry sprinkles on a hot cross bun!
I'm a big haymaker in a title fight.
I'm a cute black kitten with a nasty bite.
I'm an action double-feature on a Friday night!
I'm me!
Total fuckin' tool. Also, no wonder is ex was depressed.
Also, Calli, please tell me he's not someone I'm friends with.
Tino is a friend of a friend?
Yep. Apparently Tino goes to Hero Con with a book group buddy of mine.
ETA:
please tell me he's not someone I'm friends with.
Nope, totally different circles. As far as I know.
Loads of health~ma for your cousin DJ.
I hope you're okay job-wise sumi, yikes.
I'm going to vote tool.
Thanks. So far, it's just talk - and I guess we've been pretty lucky to not have this happening earlier. (Other state universities in Illinois have not been so lucky.)
This makes me smile.
And it's a beautiful day outside - I just got back from a walk and running a few errands. And I managed to not get trampled by the school group.
Tool.
Too bad he can't be hit by involuntary reductions to society. He belongs on Ex-Isle even though he's not Calli's ex. Call it a preemptive strike.
sumi, that's scary. I hope morale doesn't dip too low, and sending you some continuing to have a job~ma. Unless what you really want is perfect opportunity elsewhere~ma.
P.S. Who, exactly, decided that preemptive has no dash in it? Also, coop needs one unless one is talking of hen houses.
