Holiday Madness

I hate the holidays. It's been well-established so no need to beat a dead horse on this one. Everything about this time of year turns my stomach and that's good enough.

But fucking (Butt-fucking is more like it) Zhombie once again proves to be a fucking idiot and embarassment when in public. This time, I went to my supervisor's house for X-Mas dinner celebration.

Miss Stephanie, as you know, is awesome to work for - but the sad news is that she's leaving our office for another job across base as the Base Career Advisor, leaving me in the hell hole known as Occupational Health. So far I've managed to get our compliance rates up to 99.1% despite having worked there for less than a month. It's required alot of overtime and as a result has taken alot out of me - hence my lack of blogging.

Anycase, since the Z is a bigger loser than I am, I figured he should come along and get a home cooked meal for a change. Figure that interacting with more people would do him good. Right?

Wrong.

Said fuck-face makes a complete ass of himself amidst my co-workers by doing shitty BORAT imitations and making fun of the Jews. He whines about work and acts like a complete fucking moron with my cell phone the moment I put it down. If it weren't for the fact we did time together in Korea, I'd ditch his stupid fucking ass in a heart-beat. But never again will I invite him to a quasi-office function where people that don't know him so well won't be looking at me like "what the fuck were you thinking by bringing HIM to this event?". I need to make some new friends or something.

Anycase, Friday I spent a better part of the day in the Emergency Room at Landstuhl from suffering a minor concussion. Like a dumb-ass I hit my head on the over-hanging bookshelf my desk has when I wasn't paying attention, although normally I shake it off and press on. Not this time.

This time I had difficulty with my vision, I felt slightly disoriented, and couldn't perform fine motor functions like placing paperwork in document protectors. I went down the hall to Flight Medicine and asked if one of my friends could do a quick neuro check on me, only he declined due to "legal" reasons. Instead he said that he would make sure I'm aqueezed in to see a doc since there were absolutely NO patients booked and they had an open schedule.

I go up to the front desk and tell them I needed to get seen, and that I had already recieved permission from their NCOIC. Some fat ugly A1C bull-dyke lesbian starts to pipe up and tells me that because I'm not empaneled there for health care, that I can't be seen. I politely tell her that it's been taken care of, and again I get a bunch of bureaucratic horse-shit. Instead of furthering the conversation, I grab her boss whom I had spoken with 2 seconds earlier, and he told her to get me in.

A quick set of vitals, and 40 minutes later, I finally get evaluated by miss bitchy-cunt-pussy-twat flight surgeon. This chick is an Academy grad and thinks that she's hot shit because she's a doctor as well. And she has one of those goddamned annoying pony tails that she never outgrew from college either. Eh whatever. I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth (especially since I used to work Flight Medicine before I was forced out by this bullshit merger) but calmly explained to her my symptoms. She orders a CT scan on me and tells me to go to Landstuhl E.R. to get followed up with. All she had to do was put the order in the computer.

And then she decided to add insult to injury.

Out of the blue, she lectures me on how they're doing me the "favor" by seeing me instead of my normal doctor, and how "unprofessional" I was to the airman when she was giving me a load of shit. She hadn't been anywhere near the conversation nor had she seen previous experiences I've had with Airman Twat over disagreements - she blindly shoved her foot up my ass by verbally chastising me. Instead of arguing back or behaving like some fucking douche-back, I respectfully answered "yes ma'am" and let her speak her bit. I wanted to tell her how I had been working that careerfield for the better part of 13 years and while she was squeezing zits in high school and fidgeting with her training bra, I was in shit-holes like Saudi Arabia and Korea - repeatedly. What the fuck does some Academy grad know about being enlisted?

Anycase the rest of the day was spent in a haze, going from one exam room to the next. I had a co-worker drive me home and then Dave come pick me up the next day so I could get my car. Zhombie, as usual, failed to come through. Well not entirely perhaps - he did come through once, but that was because he was already on his way to work when I called and needed a jump for my car.

This New Year's Eve I plan on spending AWAY from Zhombie, AWAY from this neck of the woods, and with Julie, who is just as fucked up and an over-all pain-in-the-ass to deal with. But at least she has girlfriends who are receptive to my advances, and on occasion has served as a friends-with-benefits buddy too. All I ask is that any friends I make from here on out get me the hook-up with the girls they know, if they themselves aren't gonna give it up (that last portion applies to females specifically). I'm tired of this whole celibacy crap.

Heh.

Attack of the Rabid Poodle

Poodles are supposed to be cute. They're supposed to be great lap-dogs too. Not Tiffanie. Jeezus Fucking Goddamned Christ - I think I'm starting to get something I didn't bargain for with this girl. It really isn't worth blogging about but what the hell - I figure it's gonna keep the 5 people who read this blog entertained, so here goes. I'm at the BX PowerZone today asking the zit-faced cashier about the Godfather movies - see Dave, my co-worker, compares me to The Godfather since I get results at work, and how I've never seen them, I'm curious as to how I compare to the character. As I'm talking to said testosterone boy, I feel someone come up from behind me and knock my knee out in a playful fashion. I turn around and see Tiffanie the Rabid Poodle run off in the other direction. I finish my conversation and when I turn around to see what the fuck it is that she's doing, she's practically at the other end of the store. Fuck it, forget it. I'm not about to deal with this fucking creature. I was telling Zhombie about this tonight when he comes over to my place. As it turns out, Tiffanie's reputation preceeds her in the Med Group - everyone knows what a fucking nut-job she is - even Zhombie, who is like the pot calling the kettle black. Funny how it is that often times I'm the last person to find out about this shit - had I known I would've never asked her out to dinner last week. I just hope she fucking forgets about me and finds some other dude to stalk. Still, for a 21 year old hottie, that pussy has got to be aching sooner or later. Chances are I could fucking rock her world and then some, only to get the Basic Instinct ice pick in my back. Heh.

Over-worked and Under-sexed

Heh. This whole week has been nothing but one knock-down, drag-out bitch slap at work. Like I mentioned previously, I have been fucking elevating our Occupational rates so my commander can get her pussy waxed next year when we get the bullshit dog-and-pony award for being best office in Europe. "Results, not excuses" has been my motto for the longest time and she damn well knows this, which is why I'm kinda pissed that she put me into a work section where everything is fucked up and needs fixing. Eh. Whatever. Anycase the stress-related dreams are coming back again - the other night I dreamt I had to take a serious dump, and every brown trout I was releasing from captivity contained hornets that were flying around once I pinched a loaf off. Most people see corn in their turds, I see yellow jackets. It didn't hurt either but the crazy part was when I had to push out a turd like there was no tomorrow, I thought I had shit out the entire hive. I blame it on switching to Bumblebee Tuna brand instead of sticking with the Starkist brand Tuna I usually eat. Another fucking weird dream I had last night was I dreamt I was back home in California, and my parents had somehow taken all my belongings here in Germany, and decided to destroy them on the spot. How or why they chose to do this, or how or why they got everything there I dunno, but it really pissed me the fuck off. Everything - clothing, music, video games, books - all destroyed and going to be burned. I was pissed off and left the area. Gathered what few items I had left and walked away. The only thing that I can say is that because I'm not getting laid on a recurring basis, the stress plus the blue-balls is starting to warp my subconscious even more. Before you know it, my skin will be turning blue from the dreaded S.B.D. and I'll end up shaving my head and drooling all the time. I plan on doing something about that tonight, by going out possibly. Perhaps if I'm lucky I can find some drunk slut to bang at the E-Club. She's gonna need a neck-brace and a wheelchair once I'm done with her. Only then will the fucked up dreams go away, only then will the stress subside, and only then I'll be able to get back on path. It's kinda fucking sad that despite the great achievements humanity is capable of accomplishing, if you don't take care of your basic needs, everything else just falls apart. Heh.

More Drama

Fucking Tiffanie. Jeezus Fucking Christ goddammit. This chick is over the edge. Today I recieve from her one of those stupid "Get to know your friends" e-mail that circulate ad nauseum, just outta the blue. Okay. Whatever. Compared to last week's scared-little-girl somantics that she pulled, perhaps she's ready to talk with me again, right? WRONG. Fucking Psycho-Tits just goes from dumb to dumber. Watch: Machine: Thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore. Glad to see otherwise! Anycase, my answers are in red below. Heh. Tiffanie: First off…I never said that. second off, you caught me on a busy day and I had a lot of work to catch up to Tiffanie (again): Third off, I am not interested in a relationship; a friendship is different. Where the fuck does this shit come from? Just outta the blue, I'm getting fucking scalding hot water thrown in my face for no reason. This fucking rabid chihuahua goes for my throat the moment I throw her a fucking bone and try to be somewhat humorous. Fuck me running. So what do I do? Do I throw this immature shit back in her face? Tell her she's damaged goods? Tell her to fucking grow up and act like she's got a pair of tits? Or do I take the high road instead, and play things cool? Show her that I'm not about to wince at her fucking Tourette's outbursts the way most people do. Ah yes. This shit is one giant chess game, NOT checkers. So being the gentleman that I am (bwa ha ha), I throw this shit at her: Machine: My perception was that you didn't want to hear what I had to say, so I decided to politely excuse myself and let you contact me when you felt it was appropriate. I will never cause a scene, only because 99% of the time it's uncalled for. There is a difference between friendship and relationship yes, but they are both built on a foundation of mutual respect and tolerance. I have learned the importance of giving people their space and respect when they tell me specifically the way you did. If I am wrong or said anything inappropriate then I apologize. Silence. Not a reply. All day there was nothing. How do you respond to some shit like that? If you're some Angry Inch looking to become the next Gloria Steinem or Rosie O'Donnell, how do you retaliate over some shit like that? She can't take my ass to MEO since through all my e-mails I've remained a gentleman and haven't said anything inappropriate. I haven't harassed her and have essentially dropped her like a hot potato since a week ago last Thursday. I figure that reply is blowing her fucking mind since she's never had anyone treat her with an ounce of decency before. Yes I know, you fucking cunts don't know how to react. I'm not someone's emotional dumping ground. I'm not your fucking spiritual janitor, here to clean up whatever messes you get yourself into. The way I see it, I have PLENTY of female friends - one female friend in my opinion is more than plenty, and if it's not going to be a Friends with Benefit thing then hook me up with one of your hottie friends instead. I mean that's just common courtesy if I'm gonna have to listen to you cry on my fucking shoulder for an hour or longer and get no pussy in return (Melanie Milhorn, *ahem*). You'd be surprised of what kinda shit goes through a dude's head and how it fucks with him when he's gotta put up with the shit but ain't getting nothing for it. No wonder Zhombie is a whiny bitch. As far as I am concerned, I'm avoiding this girl like the fucking plague from here on out. Even if she has a complete change of heart and is willing to let me fuck her 9 ways from Sunday, I will be hard-pressed to carry through with it. Either way the choice I would make would be the wrong choice and would hate myself even more so than I do now for getting involved with her. I can only hope that from here on out whatever damage control I do works to my benefit and said crazy-twat's actions humiliate herself without help from any outside influence. I love it when people are their own worst enemy. Heh.

Tool in Mannheim

Okay.

I get my car from the dealership in Landstuhl and the fucking bill comes out to 256 Euro - which is roughly $330 by my estimates just for some smelly kraut named Hans or Sigi to change a few engine wires and fix the air intake flow meter or whatever. Fucking goddamned Germans will rob you blind for this shit. Assholes.

Anycase, after much deliberating and what not, I decide to go to the TOOL concert with Zhombie and his band of Merry Fuck-tards up in Mannheim, but there's a catch - I'm taking my newly repaired BROKESWAGON and will follow them so I can leave early from the concert. I have a meeting with all the fucking asshole colonels and it's going to be my first "face time" with these silly fuck-nuts, and I don't wanna look like death warmed-over from lack of sleep. So I follow He-Bitch on the A6, and during the hour it took us to travel, said dumb-ass almost got rear-ended twice by some kraut doing 150+ kph (roughly 95 mph) in the fast lane because he didn't check his mirror before changing lanes. Good thing I wasn't riding inside.

Once we get to the concert, the Germans are waiting outside the concert arena. It resembles more of some shitty warehouse or your high school auditorium than it does a real concert hall but the acoustics are pretty good. No sooner do we get through security does MASTODON start playing. Holy shit! Mastodon! I made fun of their Blood Mountain CD earlier but had no idea they'd be opening up for Tool! They put on a pretty good show too, all things considered.

The real fun happened when Tool started playing. Sorry guys - no photos - the German security guards were royal fucking assholes and would go so far as to shine a huge flash light on your ass if they suspected anyone of taking pics illegally, and even crowd-dived to get to a few would-be law breakers. Besides I'm not one to take valuables to these events anyways since inevitably some asshole is going to shove his way around and ruin your spot. It happened with some moaning fag and his girlfriend last night. I wanted to cold cock the fucker with my elbow in his temple, only he started dancing like some hippy freak and nobody else seemed to give a shit.

Fucking Tool. James Maynard Keenan or whatever the fuck his name is, comes out on stage wearing a GAS MASK with the microphone some how connected to it so he can sing and be heard. He's running around shirtless with what appears to be IPod armband cases on each arm, and a shitty mohawk haircut to boot. All throughout the concert he's dancing around like said moaning fag and keeping his back to the audience. Behind him are 3 large screens showing their videos and all sortsa weird psychedlic shit. Everything was cool until they started showing fucking UFO pictures and shit, turning it into some New-Age Star Trek gathering. I lost all respect for him at that point.

Despite the Klingons from Uranus videos, the music kicked ass. I had to leave early, like I said, since I had to wake up early for some fucking dumb-ass meeting that didn't make a fucking difference after all. Had I known I would've stayed until the end and walked in looking like shit. Nobody would've noticed. So fucking help me, Ram-Shaft is going to beat me like a circus chimp and fuck me like whore before all is said and done. All for a goddamned fraction of a percent. You military types know exactly what I'm talking about.

I bought two of their CDs today at the BX but won't run out any time soon to buy a t-shirt or whatever. They sound great live, and figure as a joke I'll form a tribute band that I'll call LOOT (get it?), and I'll do all the artsy-fucked up shit that James guy does. Zhombie thinks the reason why he was wearing a gas mask was because he wants to remain anonymous and hates being a celebrity and all. I said it was because he was protesting the military and their presence in Iraq. Who knows. Chances are the lead guitarist ate Messican food before the concert and has chronic Irritable Bowel Syndrome as a result.

Yep, I would wear a gas mask too.


Heh.

False Alarm?

So. It looks like my computer didn't do a fucking nose-dive off the Information Super-Highway like I initiallly thought. False alarm perhaps? It seems to be working fine today but I suppose the real test will come through repeated use. If this blog stops abruptly then you will know the reason why. Too bad I can't say the same about my car. I took that high-maintenance piece of shit in today to the local dealership, and once again, they have to keep it overnight. Because I save all my reciepts as a track record of what work has been done on the car, the Germans were able to get a better idea of what it might be. I explained to them in Deutsch all the problems I've been having with it so far, and they will let me know what they find tomorrow at 3pm. So I had Dave take me home in the Spring Chicken tonight and he will gimme a ride to work tomorrow too. What a guy. Zhombie is convinced I need to go to the TOOL concert with him tomorrow night. When I told him it's on a work night and my car takes priority, he damn near threw a hissy-fit tantrum like some goddamned 2 year old child. I've never seen him behave like that before. Fuck me running. Shit. I really don't care for Tool, yet I like A PERFECT CIRCLE - ironic, I know. Eh. Whatever. I'll go along since it means so much to the bald-headed cry-baby but I'm more concerned about picking up some concert trim than I am jamming out to Maynard James Keenan or whatever the fuck his name is. Zhombie's gonna drive us up to Mannheim tomorrow after work with a bunch of us other losers in his car, and then drive back around 11pm or so. I plan on sleeping in the car on the way back. Okay. So you guys know about Tiffanie and what a flake she turned out to be. And I've been working on Amanda aka MANWICH for the past 2 weeks with no dice. Why some really slutty chicks don't wanna fuck me I dunno, but goddammit I'm at my wits end here! Yah offer a starving man a slice of bread and he's gonna take it - at least I am - yet they don't wanna give any up. And this is even with the whole big dick rumor floating around too. Tubby Penguin even gave me shit today about it, telling me that people think SHE started the whole thing. Well shit, her mind is always in the gutter (whereas mine is just in the toilet as previously mentioned) so she shouldn't be surprised. I told her that Manwich doesn't wanna fuck and acts all retarded around me and won't even say 'hi'. Fucking weird. Okay - so this is where you bitches get to help me out for a change. This is where those of you who know me in person (actually this would apply to Ruckus only) can tell me what it is or why it is I'm sprayed with Fuck Repellenant. Fucking lemme have it too. I mean I'm being nice, I'm being a dick, I'm being smooth, I'm even being abrasive - typical guy shit. WTF. So I'm all ears. Lemme know whatchoo think either here or via private e-mail if you don't feel comfortable posting the shit. Chances are I won't be able to read it until Wednesday when I get home from work. So think long and hard about it. Heh.

Double Bitch-Slap

Dude. I got double bitch-slapped today. First my fucking hard drive crashes on my laptop, and then the fucking Check Engine light in my car comes on as I'm driving. If I don't post for a while it's because this piece of shit Sony has seen better days and I don't have the fucking cash to get it fixed/buy a new computer because I'll be taking my BROKESWAGON into the shop for repairs. Jeezus Fucking Goddamned Motherfucking Christ, it's always something with that piece of shit car. Ever since I've been here, once a quarter I'm taking it into the shop for repairs. At this rate I'm gonna trade it in for a fucking 10 Speed bicycle. At least if that breaks down I can always carry it over my shoulder until I get to work. So bear with me on this one, folks. Heh.

Perhaps

I think I might know who has been spreading the word around that I have a big dick. I was talking to Zhombie last night, giving him shit about being pathetic with his women (total pot calling the kettle black I know), when I remembered there's some psycho chick who knows me from Misawa - her name is Tricia. Turns out Tricia is a fucking stalker of sorts - I might have mentioned her here previously - I'd have to go back and check - but she knows all sortsa shit about me that I've never told her. It happened about a month and a half ago when I was doing some bullshit volunteer work for some function they had here on base - she makes direct eye contact with me, tells me my first and last name and what not which makes me take a fucking quick-turn exit away from her. It's also the same night I met Tiffanie who was being very flirtatious despite our just meeting. Anycase, this Tricia chick ain't half-bad looking, only she's married to some asshole who works OSI. I remember the guy from one of my college classes since he sat next to me, but didn't put two and two together until I saw them both one day at the food court and then that's when I remembered her. What I'm thinking is that since I was banging the hell outta some chick named Debbie at the time, word of mouth traveled. I know you bitches love to brag about dick size and what not to your girlfriends, but I just keep it at "I'm big enough". I don't brag about what I've got and would appreciate the same. It's not like I'm bragging to Zhombie or to coworkers how I make some chick orgasm 5 times in one night when I eat her out. Please. Let's show some decency people! Debbie was some smelly wanna-be goth/pagan chick who broke up with me because I didn't trust the birth control patch she was using (not her) and wanted to switch to condoms. She gets pissed, breaks up with me (really fucking stupid shit I know), and 3 weeks later she comes back to me, saying HOW SHE MISSES 'IT'. What? The relationship? NO. 'IT'. Yes. That collapsable flap of skin. The extra appendage. My third fucking arm. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. Jeezus Fucking Christ people. I was insulted then, and I'm insulted now. Why? Because I'm not getting any now for one thing, but because any hopes of having a real relationship with a woman gets nixed the moment I fuck them. Then it's all about sex. The way I see it, Deb blabbed to all her girlfriends about my "talent" and word got to Tricia, who was stalking me then like a fucking puma. She finds out I'm here, gets all panties-drenched and shit remembering what she heard about me from Japan, and starts rumors and shit as to my endowments. I figure I'll find out whether or not she's the one who started the shit - next time I see her I'll ask her if she knew Deb when she was in Japan. If she says "yes" or knew someone from her circle of friends, then I will have my answer. And then I will want to know WHY it is she's telling people this shit if none of these hotties are gonna let me hit it. At least lemme brush the dust off or something. Heh.

And Speaking of Dicks...

Turns out my supervisor pulls me aside today to let me know there is a "rumor" flying around about me. Miss Stephanie, as I will refer to her as, is a strong black woman with a very beautiful face and a radiant personality - she is in my opinion what every black woman should be like - strong but gentle with an overall charismatic approach to people. She's awesome. Anycase, Miss Stephanie pulls me aside and says that she's heard THAT I HAVE A BIG DICK. I shit you not. "Who the fuck is going around and telling people this?" I inquire. She starts laughing and tells me that she doesn't know who started it but she heard through friends that I've got an enormous cock. What the fuck. Ladies listen - I haven't fucked any of the bitches in my work as of yet. None of them have seen my junk, nor have they touched it or groped it or felt it or whatever. I call bullshit on her, saying she's the one making it up, while Miss Stephanie continues to tell me that she views me like a brother. She says she swears up and down she's not making it up, but won't tell me who she heard it from. Really kids - this shit is juvenile. Childish. If you're going to spread rumors like this, then 1. Tell me who it is, and 2. Come prove that rumor either true or false. I asked Dawn the Tubby Penguin if she started this shit since her mind is always in the gutter (whereas mine is only in the toilet) and after she finished laughing, denied its knowledge. She figures it was one of her slutty friends who she's been trying to hook me up with, only her slutty friend denies spreading such information too. (Rest assured, I'm chatting up slutty friend as well to see where it leads. Her earned name is "Manwich".) Heh. So. I'm known as the guy with the big dick now. Funny. It ain't tiny that's for certain.

Yes I Do, But Not With You

Heh. Check this bullshit out I recieved today from Tiffanie: From: Tiffanie To: Machine Subject: RE: thank you!! Hmmm… sounds cool…. About last night… did you think that was a date or just hanging out? From: Machine To: Tiffanie Subject: RE: thank you!! Date :-) From: Tiffanie To: Machine Subject: RE: thank you!! Well, I do not mean to bust your bubble, but I did not think that it was going to be a date. I though that it was just hanging out… I am not interested in dating right now… you just have to understand what I have been going through with Josh and guys in the past year…. I have really been through a lot, and it is time to sail solo for a while. I hope you understand that… I did not mean to lead you on. You just have to understand that I am really in need of good friends. I just want to hang out. I am not interested in any kissing, or sexual temptations. I am truly into the abstinence thing right now… I will not be interested into committing into anything for a long time… I truly need a break to find myself… I have lost respect for myself and I need to find a way to regain it. I hope that you understand. Okay - the bitch is crazy and she threw a curveball at me - I definitely wasn't expecting this but then again, dealing with Melanie in Korea, and some other psycho named Danni from a long time ago, it doesn't surprise me one bit. Women in general no longer surprise me with whatever bullshit excuses they come up with when they meet someone genuine that scares the shit outta them. So I played it cool. One thing I've learned is that no two women are ever alike, and after they've met me, they are definitely never the same again. Act like a complete dick back in return, and you're only shooting yourself in the foot. Word travels quicker than the speed of light when some little hottie feels like you've been out of control for "no reason". I've had some of you crazy bitches cry fucking rivers of tears down your face not because I was being some royal fucking asshole to you, but because I treated you with kindness and an ounce of dignity. The same sitch is happening here too, only just without the medicated somantics that only come with a refill prescription. The crux of the message is that she's seen more dicks than the men's bathroom at LAX, and as a result, has more baggage than all of the flights at LAX combined. Jeezus Fucking Christ - WHAT A FUCKING PSYCHO. BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA ~ ! While she's willing to fuck any Harry, Dicked, Tom out there, when it comes to someone with depth to their persona she gets a fucking guilt trip, freaks out and fucking acts like a scared little girl. So me being a man of action, I try to go talk to her face to face - she sees me coming and decides to hide behind some office furniture but then I call her out and tell her to knock the shit off - looking at her desk she has a DOZEN RED ROSES sitting on a corner. Heh. The bitch didn't wanna come off as being a two-timer or a royal slut. Frankly I don't care either way - I just don't want her wasting my fucking time since it's limited and irreplaceable. I don't mind being just another dick in the hole since in the end everybody fucks everybody in one way, shape or form. I've come to accept that as a fact of life (Just be consenting and infection free, that's all I ask). Anycase, she takes her little plant on her desk to give it some water in the next room over when I try talking with her about what she had written. In the calmest, most gentle of voices, I tell her that it's cool and that there were no hard feelings. Silence. She then decides to comment about her plant while ignoring what I had just said. Or at least pretending it went unnoticed. She then hurried back to her desk and decided to call out to co-worker in the hallway as a safety shield. I decide at that time to head on out. "Be seeing yah, kiddo" I casually respond. "What, you're leaving already?" "Yeah it's starting to rain and I wanna get going" I wasn't about to waste anymore fucking time than what was necessary with her. I don't have time for drama and silly kid games bullshit, people. I don't. Either shit or get off the pot with me. Don't fucking throw yourself all over me with heavy flirting and getting all in my personal space if you ain't gonna accept there are consequences that come along with it. I figure the ball is in her court, and in some ways I'm relieved that this piece of psychotic snatch spared me the expense of public humilation or countless dollars spent trying to get down her panties. Still, the shit doesn't add up. No chick eats out of the palm of your hand one night, and then goes fucking frigidbitch on you the next day. Still I suppose she was considerate in the fact she was up front and didn't wait a fucking month or two to drop the "F" bomb on me. Heh. Good luck with that one whoever's fucking her now or next in line. You're doing me the favor of having to put up with her shit. In the meantime Tiffanie, you're now joining the soon-to-be-select of my WALL OF SHAME board here. You've earned this one.

Round 1: Machine's Favor

So. Tonight I take Tiffanie out for dinner. Turns out she's had a shitty day and wants to take it out on the world. Good thing for me I picked up some flowers for her before showing up at her doorstep. Turns out she's one of these artsy-kinda chicks that's into expressing herself visually and what not. Took her to Chili's. I hate that fucking place. It's trendy as fuck and all the assholes want to eat there - but I know the "behind the scenes" details there and know they're a safe place to eat at. Tiffanie gets some alcohol in her to take the edge off and I see her going from angry hottie bitch to purring kitten ready to eat out of the palm of my hand. All night she's thanking me for taking her out and showing her a good time. Score one point in my favor. She wasn't ready to fuck yet but I know that if I continue to play my cards right, her panties will be coming down quicker than the Twin Towers on 9/11 (sorry bad joke I know - but I can't think of anything else to compare it with) - but rest assured kids, THE MACHINE don't do date rape. No means no. Heh.

Much Thanks

Hey assholes - much thanks for signing on to this blog - because of some bullshit Air Force policies that are coming down, I've had to take the high road with this blog, out of fear of reprimand - you'd be surprised how two certain government agencies check this blog on a frequent basis, naturally putting me on guard. WHY they've been checking my shit? I dunno - unless it's a matter of national security to track stories of shit demons and how pathetic my sex life is, I'd like to think they have more important things to do like chase these asshole terrorists who are running around and wreaking havoc. But enough of that. I can say with complete confidence that the Black Rusted Van is back, firing on all four cylinders once again. Your intelligence will be insulted on a daily basis, but yet you still read this despite knowing better. Anycase, tonight I have a dinner date with this little hottie I know - she's been warming up to me for quite some time now too - she's 21 years old and from what I gather, is into older dudes who listen to Death Metal and video games. While I've kept my nerd quotient low, I figure that tonight's the night we'll see where things go - I'm either gonna be banging her 9 ways from Sunday soon, or grabbing the old sock and spanking it to German porn once again. Que sera sera. She doesn't know about this blog either so it's all the more fun! I'll keep you retards posted. Heh.