dazed and confused.

May 24, 2010

This weekend went far too fast in a drunken sleep deprived haze.  I had a few too many beers and a few too many snoring boys in my bed (more on this later).  But all in all, I would call it a success.

I have decided that I may need to find a new “home base” bar.  Or at least lay low for a while.  It’s not so fun when the bartenders question and judge your dates (“Really, THAT guy?”) or attempt to step in while a cute guy is chatting you up (“You ok? this guy bother you?”).

Im FINE. Really.

But now, even worse, the middle age owner has gotten my telephone number and is very very very creepy.  I don’t know what I would expect the owner of a bar such as the one I frequent to be like.  But I don’t think I would expect him to text me at 9:00 in the morning about how he was going to do some, ahem, “things” while thinking of me.

How is one supposed to respond to that?

Um… Thanks?

A friend of mine wrote a pretty great article about women and sex that I just absolutely love.  Right on, sister friend!

Some things I just don’t need to know,

Q

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