I should spell check more when I'm angry

I'm still not going to fix that last post. You see it ate half my blog when I tried to do a spell check at the end. So I guess I'm going to have to just leave the shitty typing in from now on.

I know I've been gone forever. So much has happened I can't even begin to write it all down. I guess I'll just hit you with my highlights.

I'm a Fucker. Yep. That was what one of my best budds called me the other night at 2:00 AM on my machine. I was a little offened by it until I came to terms that he might be right. Flash back to two weeks prior. My friend N-Word (nothing to do with race, get off my back) and I were at a little party together. We both met a girl there within seconds of me breaking the ice with her.

All my friends suck at talking to girls. Admittedly they are all better looking then me. For some reason unless they're drunk they can't approach a girl. I'm the opposite. I figure since I have nothing to offer I obviously have nothing to lose. It all makes sence to me. So my job is allways to go in make some chit chat then jump out of the way or dive on the hand grenade of the other group. It's a role I do duitifully. If the girl is hot and my buddy has a chance there is no standard too low for me to stoop to in Wing Man world.

We had a great night both talking with her. Now here is where things get akward. She got both out numbers before we left. On the ride home N-Word tells me that he thinks he really likes this girl. I don't have a problem with this because she is 1. Hot and 2. Paid attention to him this evening.

After about a week thinks get down right gross. It seems she actually wants to get to know people. She isn't too impressed with N-Words love at first site, I'm the best man in the universe, puppy dog act. Infact she tells me that she has a hard time even talking to him because everything is either about him wanting her or how every girl should want him. I guess this is as good a time as any to mention that she has been calling me often and we stay on the phone for hours. We find eachother very easy to talk too. Now I'm not saying I'm interested. After all we should all be able to agree that I'm mostly dead inside. However I'm not, not interested. I'm also not, not, not admitting to any of this.

This epic story climaxes one night after we all go out drinking. As I'm the best drunk driver it was my job%2

Fuckoing bull shit mother fucking site!!! Well it fucked off with the rest of my post and I don't fell like tying again for hours so this is all you get. If you wanted more tell blogger to stop being a fucking fuck fucktard.