Feeling the love ...
... or not.
I had hoped to have the opportunity to do something, but due to various circumstances, I wasn't able to do so. I know. I'm vague. However, because of said circumstances, I re-named the "Blonde Bimbo" to the "Blonde Bimbo Dink" and Coll told me he might not speak to her again if he found out. Apparently, he's none too happy about being called the Blonde Bimbo. I believe he's offended. For no reason really, but we all know what that Y chromosome does to logic! Whoa. Boxers get all bunched, making the boys uncomfortable and all, and well ... when there is a believed offense, that offense will be held onto until someone pries it from their death grip and makes them throw it away.
Once upon a time, I had a crush. It was a BIG crush. This crush almost led to my purchasing a particular tank top that this crush had worn at one point. The individual who had possession of the item even questioned my intended use of the item if he were to sell it to me. It was kind of skeevy really ... dirty as hell ... smelled of BO ... and that made me want it even more. I know, I'm SICK! It was an illness. And before you call me a pervert one more time, I was actually going to frame the shirt. AND HANG IT ABOVE MY BED. So yeah, I guess I am kind of a perv afterall. I didn't buy the shirt though. Because I was going to feel really stupid with that shirt hanging above my bed when my best friend had just started seeing my crush.
And talk about CRUSHED. There went all of my fantasies ... shot straight to hell. Well, because I couldn't really fantasize about the guy that I knew was romancing my BFF! We joked about him occasionally. When he pissed her off, she would offer him to me ... knowing damn well she didn't mean it ... AND that I just didn't think about him in that way anymore.
Anyway, for me to be crushing so hard ... you know this guy had to be pretty smoking hot, right? I don't have bad taste. It may be questionable at times, but it's not bad. People just wonder. WHY? But not this crush. My friend Eddie and I used to argue over him. Well, he was always the ace in my pocket. Eddie and I had the same type of taste in men ... we would sit in a bar and inevitably, we would both notice the same man, at the same time. Always pissed me off that he scoped the room and made sure that he had to use the facilities at the exact same time as the hot guy across the bar. He always had something flippant to say when he came out of the restroom and if there was any indication that the guy was gay ... well, that's when I pulled the ace out of my pocket.
Eddie: Girl, too bad you can't go in there. You should check his shit out!
Me: That is just so wrong ... at least you know if they are a waste of time before it gets too far!
OR
Eddie: Not worth the effort.
Me: Thanks Eddie. I was just looking ... now I don't even want to do that.
OR
Eddie: He's gay ... HALLELUJAH!
Me: Well, insert hot crush guys name sure as hell isn't!
Eddie: Biatch! Why did you have to go there.
Yeah, so ... I've lost track of where I was going.
Ahhh ... Blonde Bimbo ... smoking hot ... fantasies shot to hell and all that. Now before he goes all getting his shackles up, when I say that Coll shared things with me, she didn't share details! Now who's the perv? But Coll would share with me what she would be doing and such in the evening or on the weekend. Just generalizations. Generalizations, that at times, would make me sigh and weep and curse the internet gods, who gave me my bestest friend in the world, for dangling such a morsel in front of me only to say nanny-nanny-boo-boo! Sometimes it would be steaks on the barbie ... attending a function ... yadda, yadda, yadda.
Well, one night it was champagne and a bubble bath. And dinner. Provided to her. By his HOTNESS! Excuse me? I'm drooling, slovenly ... like I'm part Mastiff or some shit ... over the mere thought of a damn dirty tank top and he's filling a big tub with bubbles, popping a bottle of Cristal and cooking dinner. So, I kind of blurted out "that Blonde Bimbo!" He was macking on my girl. Like nobodies business. Like he had to work to get some. And no, before anyone goes there, I'm not calling Coll easy. But I would have been. Nah ... not that easy. He would have had to feed me a piece of lettuce or something first. But seriously, I was astounded at the thought and effort he was putting into this particular evening and while it was sweet, and romantic and all of that mushy stuff that makes your heart flip-flop in your chest and your stomach feel like it's on a roller-coaster, in my eyes ... SO NOT NECESSARY DUDE! Hence, the Blonde Bimbo.
I had hoped to have the opportunity to do something, but due to various circumstances, I wasn't able to do so. I know. I'm vague. However, because of said circumstances, I re-named the "Blonde Bimbo" to the "Blonde Bimbo Dink" and Coll told me he might not speak to her again if he found out. Apparently, he's none too happy about being called the Blonde Bimbo. I believe he's offended. For no reason really, but we all know what that Y chromosome does to logic! Whoa. Boxers get all bunched, making the boys uncomfortable and all, and well ... when there is a believed offense, that offense will be held onto until someone pries it from their death grip and makes them throw it away.
Once upon a time, I had a crush. It was a BIG crush. This crush almost led to my purchasing a particular tank top that this crush had worn at one point. The individual who had possession of the item even questioned my intended use of the item if he were to sell it to me. It was kind of skeevy really ... dirty as hell ... smelled of BO ... and that made me want it even more. I know, I'm SICK! It was an illness. And before you call me a pervert one more time, I was actually going to frame the shirt. AND HANG IT ABOVE MY BED. So yeah, I guess I am kind of a perv afterall. I didn't buy the shirt though. Because I was going to feel really stupid with that shirt hanging above my bed when my best friend had just started seeing my crush.
And talk about CRUSHED. There went all of my fantasies ... shot straight to hell. Well, because I couldn't really fantasize about the guy that I knew was romancing my BFF! We joked about him occasionally. When he pissed her off, she would offer him to me ... knowing damn well she didn't mean it ... AND that I just didn't think about him in that way anymore.
Anyway, for me to be crushing so hard ... you know this guy had to be pretty smoking hot, right? I don't have bad taste. It may be questionable at times, but it's not bad. People just wonder. WHY? But not this crush. My friend Eddie and I used to argue over him. Well, he was always the ace in my pocket. Eddie and I had the same type of taste in men ... we would sit in a bar and inevitably, we would both notice the same man, at the same time. Always pissed me off that he scoped the room and made sure that he had to use the facilities at the exact same time as the hot guy across the bar. He always had something flippant to say when he came out of the restroom and if there was any indication that the guy was gay ... well, that's when I pulled the ace out of my pocket.
Eddie: Girl, too bad you can't go in there. You should check his shit out!
Me: That is just so wrong ... at least you know if they are a waste of time before it gets too far!
OR
Eddie: Not worth the effort.
Me: Thanks Eddie. I was just looking ... now I don't even want to do that.
OR
Eddie: He's gay ... HALLELUJAH!
Me: Well, insert hot crush guys name sure as hell isn't!
Eddie: Biatch! Why did you have to go there.
Yeah, so ... I've lost track of where I was going.
Ahhh ... Blonde Bimbo ... smoking hot ... fantasies shot to hell and all that. Now before he goes all getting his shackles up, when I say that Coll shared things with me, she didn't share details! Now who's the perv? But Coll would share with me what she would be doing and such in the evening or on the weekend. Just generalizations. Generalizations, that at times, would make me sigh and weep and curse the internet gods, who gave me my bestest friend in the world, for dangling such a morsel in front of me only to say nanny-nanny-boo-boo! Sometimes it would be steaks on the barbie ... attending a function ... yadda, yadda, yadda.
Well, one night it was champagne and a bubble bath. And dinner. Provided to her. By his HOTNESS! Excuse me? I'm drooling, slovenly ... like I'm part Mastiff or some shit ... over the mere thought of a damn dirty tank top and he's filling a big tub with bubbles, popping a bottle of Cristal and cooking dinner. So, I kind of blurted out "that Blonde Bimbo!" He was macking on my girl. Like nobodies business. Like he had to work to get some. And no, before anyone goes there, I'm not calling Coll easy. But I would have been. Nah ... not that easy. He would have had to feed me a piece of lettuce or something first. But seriously, I was astounded at the thought and effort he was putting into this particular evening and while it was sweet, and romantic and all of that mushy stuff that makes your heart flip-flop in your chest and your stomach feel like it's on a roller-coaster, in my eyes ... SO NOT NECESSARY DUDE! Hence, the Blonde Bimbo.
posted by Tammy at 3:18 PM
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