Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I am driving the truck. I am driving an 18 year old girl home from work. We are talking. We talk about how I need to get the truck washed.
"A bird took a crap on my window." I tell her. Then I point to the bird crap. I point to the white stains on my driver's side window.
There is a slight pause in the conversation. Like some one is taking time to think. The 18 year old offers up a proposal. "I'll wash your car for 20 dollars."
I have no idea why this 18 year old thinks I want her to wash my car for 20 dollars. I can wash the car at the automatic car washer for 5 dollars. They even throw in a free vacuum. I just bought a new towel to dry the truck off after it gets washed.
The automatic car washer does a good job with everything except drying. It does not dry the truck completely. That's why I bought the car drying towel. Plus that and it was on clearance at work. I paid 2 dollars for it. The towel is is blue and sticky. It is made out of some kind of strange material from the future. The girl had to move the towel out of the way to sit in the passenger seat. That in and of itself should have been enough of a warning not to suggest such an outrageous fee for washing my car. Clearly I am the kind of guy who can do a bit of manual labor.
"Who would pay 20 bucks to have some kid wash the truck for them?"
"The only way I am going to pay 20 dollars for a car wash is if I get two girls in bikinis to wash the car."
Another pause. Another proposal.
"I could get candy to wash the car with kimmie."
Those are fake names. Those names are so fake that I am sure they have destroyed whatever ability you previously had to suspend disbelief in this story. I want you to know that I know that. That I know how terrible those fake names are. I want apologize for the fake names, for such bad and terrible fake names. I am sorry that I couldn't even think of anything remotely believable.
I tell the 18 year old that she should get the two girls from work that are pregnant to wash the truck. That would be hot. Preggo Car Washers. They should start a business.
"Oh no...my water just broke!" The 18 year old makes a joke.
"They could wash the car with that." I tell the 18 year old.
"You shouldn't say that." The 18 year old says. She objects to my joke. She thinks you should just keep that thought to yourself. "You can't say that out-loud." She chastises me. She knows it is natural to have the thought. She says that she thought the same thing, she just thinks you can't say that kind of thing out loud.
"Oh, no." I tell her. "You have to say that kind of thing out loud."
BACK TO THE STORY
Instead of posting the personal ad, I sent the e-mail to an online profile I picked at random. Again. Just to gauge things. Just to see if it was funny. If it was interesting. If it was good.
What am I doing? I feel guilty. I shouldn't have sent the e-mail.
I have no idea if I should feel guilty. Me and the internet girlfriend are not "going out." We are not in a relationship. I mean sure. I did buy her a diamond ring. A huge diamond ring. Maybe 100 carrots. And we will get married one day. Assuming she is foolish enough to say yes. Foolish enough to move to Arizona.
The message I sent was not really the personal ad that I was going to write. I ended up sending some (sorta) funny thing that was ignored by the recipient.
The original piece was really more like a blog post. I had it all planned out, but I had to go to work. So I lost it. It was good too. One of the best things I have ever written. As funny as anything on Craigslist that gets posted over at Fark.com. It was so damn good it might have gotten me laid.
I do remember at one point near the end I go into some tangential point about how I am sick of the "weariness" of women on craigslist.
All the women on Craigslist are weary. They are tired. They are looking for something that they can never get. A good man.
I remember thinking that I should write a "weary" post too. I am so tired of hearing how weary you are that I would prefer to have a man with the Ebola virus vomit all over me. In the post I was to write I make a descriptive comment about his yellow teeth. I have fucked up the remembrance of this thought.
It was shocking and came out of nowhere. Just this vile description of the Ebola virus. How the weariness of craigslist women bothers me like the infection from an ingrown toe nail. Yellow and full of puss. Trickles of blood.
The man's face is melting. He is puking in my lap. I see his yellow teeth. I see the steaming hot puke pile on my lap. It collects in my trousers. It soaks through to my skin. I feel wet. I am bathed in the virus. I am drenched in puke.
The lesson here for women on Craigslist is that they need not be weary.
The other lesson is that puke is not much of a turn on.
The final lesson is that some people may insist that your efforts to find new readers by posting blogs faking as personal ads seem to them like a breach of trust. Even if it is not.
Monday, January 26, 2009
All that is going to change soon. So is the focus of this blog and TKMB. I am going to post random stuff on this blog. I am going to post links and stories, and I am going to write some kind of memoiry blog novella here--in between all the other crap.
The Karl Marx blog is going to get a face lift. I am going to get more superficial and less stuffy on it.
I hope you enjoy the changes and I hope it makes you decide to come back to this blog and read it again.
If not then nothing has really changed anyway.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The girl is pretty hot. She plays guitar. I think I my have to see if I can bring her over to the United States. Any donations to this site that can get me to the Philippines, or my new Asian girlfriend over to America will be appreciated!
Monday, January 05, 2009
Here are a few articles uncovering the scam that is Bob Larson. I am headed over to his church on Tuesday. I assume it will HELLA fun. Who knows? I hope I don't have to pay to get in. I hope Bob will be giving a sermon or something, maybe even a few EXORSICMS. Though I think you have to pay to get that shit. Nothing is free. Not even God's love.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
I don't date a lot of SHE-males, but I do date regular girls every once and while. And most of those girls are the kinda girls who seem to date guys who are into SHE-males and those girls always seem to call me up and share with me their new boyfriends "fixation" with SHE-Males.
I don't have any good advice for these girls and I get the feeling they are just trying to get information from me about my habits when it comes to SHE-males and if I like them or think they are sexy or look just like real girls.
The truth is that most of the women I date are lesbians, because lesbians are ugly and as we all know the ugly are super horny and super horny (fat) lesbian chicks are the only chicks with enough balls to ask a dude out and spread it right away.
I have no idea if the Lesbians I date are turning the men they meet gay or just by the fact that if you date enough BETA-males like me you are bound to find one that takes his BETANESS too far and into the territory of getting all hot and spicy for SHE-males.
I assume the latter, but really, what the fuck do I know? The only thing I know for sure is that the majority of men who get turned on by SHEmales imagining their cocks in those big breasts, the golden flecks of bleached hair and imagine fucking man pussy are the kinda guys who want the nastiest of stereo typed beauty. The big fake tits. The bleach blond hair. The flat ass. The Cosmo girl.
Only these guys know they have no chance in the real world f0r a chick that fits their dreams. They are too disgusting to pull real pussy. They know instead if they are ever to get any thing like the hot chicks on TV that the girl has to come attached with a dick. The fantasy of fucking a She male is really the fantasy of a man who knows he can't get real pussy and the only pussy he will ever get is man-pussy.
The really sad thing is that these SHEmale bitches are super diva and really think that they are women and so unless you send away for a mail order (male-order haha, fuck you Maddox) she male they will never get the quality of she male that might be able to pass at a quick glance as a woman. Instead they will have to take a man dressed as a woman to the high school reunion and not a damn person will be impressed because people don't want to give a shit about your openness and inclusiveness when your openness and inclusiveness means your just fucking some dude in a dress.
I hate to be the guy that tells you that, but if you are talking to my exgf she ain't telling you much different.