Monday, November 10, 2008
Mud Guy
OK, settle down children, and I will now tell you a tale.A very worrying tale.
It all started a few days ago. I was in the library, when I received a text message asking who I was. Confused and worried that my identity had apparently been lost, I replied that it was a 'good question' and demanded to know who the hell this person is. In the end, he (for it was a 'he') told me who he is, but for this story he will remain anonymous and will hereby be called 'Mud Guy' for reasons that will be explained as this story progresses.
Mud Guy and I were texting each other like mad. Him being someone I have never known in my entire life, he struck me as being desperate, for he asked me things like was I single, what I look like, my interests, and if I was a virgin. Obviously I was like, 'What the hell', especially at that last one about being a virgin >.<>
Anyway, his texts became more and more intimate throughout the hour. This shows you how desperate he is. But I continued with texting him, because his pervy texts really amused me, in that strange sadistic way.
I must inform you, dear reader, that on the internet, I am a pervert-magnet. I have had too many guys asking to cyber, too many disturbing pictures, and only a few of the previous said have declared their undying love for me. I'm really quite touched [but not in that way] that so many losers over the internet have chosen me to be their cyber partner. I always find a way to let them down, of course. It's really quite a fun game.
What worries me most is how they got my contact details...
Anyway. Then there was a hiatus. I received virtually nothing the next day, only "hi babe wat u up 2" every 10 goddamn minutes or so. What, he must have one of those 'drinking birds' next to his phone... bird goes down, *SEND*, bird goes back up... aaaaaand repeat.
Now onto his nickname, Mud Guy.
Just today, he asked what I was up to (that fucking drinking bird...!!). Wednesday suggested as a reply, "I'm up to my neck in mud", so I sent that. So Mud Guy said, "why babe wats happened x I wish I cud be with u x". I found the only logical answer to be, "What, you want to be in the mud with me?" BAD mistake... "Ye babe i would love to be in the mud with you" "in what way, exactly?" "Well well well we would both be fully naked babe doin what ever you want"
I'm too... disturbed to reply, but if I was naked in the mud with him, I'd probably want to slap him, kick him in the nuts, tear off his ear (I don't know why), steal his wallet, and run away [and as MoMo says, hide in a cave and call myself Golem]!
And that is why he is called Mud Guy.
Some part of me wishes this is one big prank by a girl in our skool.
But the rest of me wants to toy with his libido for a little while longer.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Mud Guy part 2
Well well well.
I got a shock this morning.
Mud Guy sent me a picture.
Of himself.
However, it was not of his face...
...but another part of his anatomy.
I am shocked. It was bad enough getting shocked because I did not know pictures could be sent to my crappy 5-year-old phone, but THIS... It's still on my phone. I wish I had deleted it when I first saw it, but I don't want to risk looking at his thing again.
This morning, though, I am quite glad of this: I went out with Wednesday, MoMo, and Chris, so when they heard of... this picture, all sorts of comments about what I should reply with were flying about the place. So, as a summary, this is how Mud Guy and Wed, MoMo, Chris, and my conversation went. (MG=purple)
- Impressive... but mine's better
- O really Id like to see that
- Maybe when you get a pair
- Oooh that was mean so u got the pic wat did u think
- Thanks for sharing it, I think you should go to the doctor's to have that growth checked out
[...]
- u ok babe
- Yeah, just spending a night in, sewing name-tags on my bulk-buy pack of condoms.
Something tells me Mud Guy's soon to give up. Shame, really, it was getting quite fun.
But yeah back to reality, the day out was fun. The best part was when we all went to Chris' place and played PokéMon monopoly.
YAY
Friday, September 16, 2011
Where the hell did I go?
What the FUCK holy FUCK why the FUCK did I leave this blog? This blog was awesome.
I cannot summarise my life during the past two years in a couple of paragraphs. Well, I can try. I've been pretty much foreveralone at University, and due to health reasons had to quit during the second year, and I'm due to go back at the end of the month.
Actually, that was a summary, wasn't it? Boo.
Anyway, this post marks the day I managed to acquire a boyfriend. And by 'boyfriend' I don't mean by title only, an imaginary friend, mud guy, or a boy I met on the bus and decided that saying 'hello' to him warranted a full-blown relationship. No, I mean a 'proper' boyfriend. How the bloody hell did that happen? I'm not even sure. This is weird. I'm not the type who's a good girlfriend. And I'm socially awkward as fuck. As a golden example, after I french-kissed said boyfriend (I suck at frenching, by the way), I blurted out "I'M ALL WET" (meaning my lips). Of course, he has a great sense of humour, so he didn't cough and run out of the room, spraying milk out of his nose everywhere.
Aaand I think that's far too much information for one day.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
The rest of the world is starving to death while you gorge yourselves on cake. THE SHAME!!
That time of year... It's my birthday. Must remember to edit the sub-heading of this blog.
As my bday happened to land on a Sunday, that meant I had to work in the early hours, throwing newspapers at dogs. The date, "7th January" means NOTHING to these people. And then they show up at their doors, demanding to know why last week's paper had a slight rip on the back page or why it gave them a papercut.
With this done, only then could I show it was my birthday. Of course, like Christmas I didn't open the presents until much later. What reason? Well, I didn't give birth or create myself. So I believe that the parents are the ones which should get the presents. But no one else agrees with me so nevermind.
Birthdays aren't that special. But this one seemed different somehow. My siblings were working, so I felt like an only-child for a short amount of time. I was taken out several times! 1 ~ Newspapers! 2 ~ Eating, 3 ~for... lemonade (?), 4 ~ walk, 5~ Drop the christmas tree off. What I didn't like about the eating-out was the children around us, screaming because they were bored of waiting for their food, which they don't deserve, the little ratbags. There was one baby sitting (sh1tting?) near us, making strange faces and squealing when the Dad teased her. The eating-place (I don't know how to classify it...) was appropriately named, "The World's End".
Late at night, when nobody was caring anymore, we dropped a mass of candles on some form of cake with little stars on it. The 10-year-old candles were just stubs at this point, and so when they were lit, the cake melted. Now it looks like the setting of a war; muddy ground, with little twisted soldiers screaming in agony, while they wallow in the mud (the soldiers are the melted 'stars'). You can't help but feel sympathy for the poor old Tesco's quick-bought cake.
And now I'm just waiting for the rest of my presents to arrive in the mail.
With this said, I now end with a short poem my Grandad made up long ago:
It's my birthday today!
Cakes for tea,
All for me!
You can't come
Yum Yum Yum!
