One Night with Paris

28 Jun

Yesterday, I hung out with Dweeb, the man formerly known to be the top of my pyramid of male hatred.  And although he isn’t so sweet or sugary, he is kind of fat and a little bit oily… so he fits up there.   And even if Oprah thinks she can change around the food pyramid, Dweeb will still stay at the top.  He’s king of the pyramid and nobody can take that from him.  Slow clap for Dweeb everybody, slow clap. 

As a reminder of my overall hatred of him, I’d like to cite the post from 4/18:  “In another example, I really liked Dweeb but he didn’t like me as much I liked him.   But, I mean, come on Dweeb, really?  You can’t be unattractive and mean.”

Yes, I’m a total sellout.  After five enjoyable days of vacationing back where I grew up, I had to come back and remind myself to be miserable.  And Rodney Dweeberoni was my best bet.

You think when he dropped me off in a snow bank back in February during the blizzard of 2011, right after telling me that he’d never date me that I would have taken the clue then and deleted his number.  Or maybe I would have woken up from my brain slumber after he made me cry so hard that I gave my Blackberry water damage.  I had to get a new phone because I actually gave my Blackberry water damage.  From tears. 

But NO.  NO NO NO.  Four months later, I am allowing him to message me at all hours of the night and then I spend an entire Sunday with him.  Romantically, I have a very slow learning curve.  I’m like a cat – I could claw at the same damn toy for three years straight and I still won’t have found anything better to do. 

And boy, I haven’t found anything better to do.  Dasani is busy in Ireland contaminating my Facebook wall, Hunter is at home putting on lip gloss and flexing his muscles in a mirror and I am unimpressed.

So welcome back, Dweebly.   Even though nobody believes you when you say you’re related to Paris Hilton, I am once again amused.  But if you think you’re going to drop me off in another snow bank, I will sock you in the face so hard that you’ll be swallowing all of the fake teeth in your grill for dinner.


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