Fern came back looking like a cross between a chola and a hipster. Talk about an identity crisis we made her take off the disgustingly thick drawn on eyebrows. Supposedly she will be blonde again by summer time. Fingers crossed.

Meet Nicole

She works in the medical field. Her gym schedule has little pattern to it, but we end up always seeing each other. She’s either stalking me or its just coincidence. Whatever the case may be, I’ve known of her for quite some time now.

No one talks to her at the gym. Dudes are scared and at a loss for words.

This generation of men are paralyzed by women. They want to fuck women under their breath but at the same time they get nervous. We don’t want to “offend” and say the wrong thing. We intend to prove we’re different than other men; so we basically end up not bothering them as a way to not cause them any discomfort and even go to great lengths to avoid them under this pathetic, convoluted line of thinking. In the process we end up being “nice guys” who appear nice at first. From there we either get into the nice guy shuffle where no one notices us, or if we get further we ultimately end up dissatisfied as a man and disgruntled towards women, which starts to show in our interactions with them via spurts of passive anger. Women just don’t see you as somebody they want more from if you’re a nice guy.

^That right there is totally not me! It’s probably you, but not me. The point was that this is how guy/chick milieu is structured in 2014, meaning I got this Nicole chick in the bag if I want it because nobody has the initiative to assert their desire.

I’ve already had brief exchanges of words with her, but not anything in-depth or of real value. My ex is honestly holding me back. A part of me needs her back. Before I can go all-in strong with Nicole and risk the rejection of my life, I need closure with my ex. But if or when that time cums, this Nicole broad is the one without doubt. Not only does she have a great ass, but her personality vibrates this gentle, sweet glow.

The first time she spoke to me six months ago she asked if I was using a machine that was 10 FEET AWAY. This time it’s not a question whether I’m paranoid she likes me or not. It’s crystal clear. Today I was in the back doing light deadlifts trying to lift the remaining flu out of my system. 2 minutes after I get over there it’s like she honed in on me with a new year urgency. She charged up in my space. We wave hi to one another. I tell her if I’m in your way doing deadlifts, maybe a little too close to you let me know. She was like “oh no no no you are fine.” In hindsight I realized I was being overly nice, which is exactly the recipe for sabotage. Nonetheless I just didnt have the “daniel bryant” spirit in me today. I still miss my kid’s mom. However, hypothetically if I didn’t, then this Nicole girl is THE GIRL. If I went at her now, it’ll take off but she’ll end up being that rebound girl. It’s a losing situation for me right now.

Don’t get me wrong, it felt quite validating she charged on over here squatting right in front of my face. I can imagine her sitting raw on my organic face for an uninterrupted hour one day, just gazing at the stars. It’s a shame. She must really think something’s wrong with me for not engaging her strongly. She use to follow me around a lot more but she gave up trying so hard after she’s seen me come in with both exes at one time or another. Though I think she thinks I’m single again because I come in alone and give off a depressing vibe.

I’m really on the verge of pursuing her, but not quite yet. If I did it now it would be halfhearted and it would take off under false pretenses. It’s not like I haven’t been at this crossroads before. Not much to think about here. Do I open up the can of unknown worms with Nicole and risk major disappointment/rejection or do I give the ex a longer benefit of the doubt out of sheer love? Truth is you can’t juggle both and come off genuine and true in your behaviors/outward demeanor. You sacrifice your performance with the extra juggling, quite possibly losing both women and maybe even a little of yourself in the process.

There’s nothing wrong with putting me on a lower rung, except that you’re doing it to the devil

Is my child’s mother a whore?

These last couple days I’ve been trying to get her to hang out with me for New Years Eve. Apparently she made nerdball plans with her friend weeks ago and is unwilling to change them.

Sucks to be that second fiddle. Outright infuriating. Fact is she’s still resentful that I had a relationship and impregnated this other woman. She hasn’t moved past that. Honestly, I understand where she’s coming from. Cautious now.

But I made it clear where I stood and have been coming at her receptively. However today I finally snapped at the lack of progression in our scenario. So what I did was call progressive insurance and drop her from my policy LOL. It’s a big deal in her particular case because we’re in a state in which she needs an FR-44, a form from an insurance company stating you have full coverage and have paid the premium six months in advance. She needs that in order to drive because she was convicted of a DUI. My current policy already has the conditions for the FR-44 satisfied, and all I did was include her vehicle, which is like $76 extra a month.

Dig my logic- would I pay my ex-wife’s monthly insurance? Would i pay a future dental bill for that girl I just tossed out of my house? Would I send $5000 to c0dex so she doesn’t go starving for the month? Fuck no I wouldn’t! That’s Oatis’ job.

Point is if this ex-bitch of mine truly doesn’t want anything to do with me and is truly unwilling to see if there’s still a chance, then I figure she needs to be treated as such.

She flips. I explain the logic. She flips, “you know I can’t pay for the FR-44 right now. You’re evil.” An hour later I so eloquently state, “I need a blow job.” She responds, “well I need insurance.” I say, “then give me the blow job.”

The compromise ends up being a blow job AFTER the insurance activation. I actually do it when she’s en route to my house. Anyways I go with her to the store to run some errands, just for the hell of it. Bitch smokes cigs again, in the car with the baby or even while holding him outside the car. She knows its a problem. No need to rub it in. Regardless I like her way better than the “just too perfect” girl I broke up with.

Anyways, we get back to my pad. She verifies with progressive I activated her insurance. My kid’s winding down and crying like a baby. She wants to suck my dick in the living room. I know she’s playing a whore right now but no need to play a cheap one. So I tell her to put him to bed first.

We end up in the bedroom, on the bed, my cock dancing in her mouth. She’s sucking my dick with more passion and enthusiasm than an actual whore, which is a good thing for my sake. But what this ultimately came down to was me wanting to fuck her nicotine-permeated brain. She refused under the guise of “I don’t know what you got stds. I can’t trust you anymore. I know you didn’t where a condom with that other girl that’s why she’s pregnant.” The nerve this ex-bitch of mine to still be resentful after she had sexual orgies off match.com.

We argue some more. The baby wakes up. Wah wah.

Somehow we end up making out while holding each other rather heavily. I suck on her tit despite the pregnancy juicing it into a mere sag. Still delicious nonetheless. I try to take off her pants again and that’s where she drew the line.

I couldn’t believe it. This whore must be getting ready to date someone else. I tell her wow you can fuck strangers off the internet but not your own kids dad. She sucks my dick some more trying really hard to blow my load, but my heart just isn’t there.

Is it wrong for me to want to fuck the smoke right out of her brain? I want to fuck her. I’m a dude. Nothing wrong with that desire.

Finally she feels the pressure and will do it ONLY with a condom. Thing is

1. I’m not going to the store right now. I want to fuck you right now.

2. Condoms ruin the fun and the joy of me fucking your little pussy.

3. I’m going to pull out ten seconds early anyways. I learned my fucking lesson after knocking up the 2 most craziest bitches on gods green earth.

4. I don’t fuck random nasty bitches anymore. The last 3 years I stick with one bitch and one bitch only.

I made it clear to her there is no way I am ever having sex with a condom on again. If I wanted to have lame condom sex ill visit the local bar and get any bitch I wanted there. And that’s not even an ego talking.

So she gets ready to leave, trying to call my bluff telling me to accept just the blow job. She goes out the back sliding door, I in turn do the same then yell, “get the fuck back in here and finish the job.” I explain if you want to be treated as a whore I will treat you as such, which means I will honor this blow job arrangement at the expense of everything else in which you will be treated as such.

And so she starts sucking real hard. My dick is thrusting further into her throat. We turn to our side. This is when my cock latches organically into her blond mouth. She’s takes it without much oxygen. She takes it like a fucking champ in which I nut in and around her mouth, feelings of satisfaction. I lay back and tell her you’re free to go.

Now I don’t know if she really likes me again or if she’s trying to make herself feel less of a whore. Truth is I’ve been with plenty whores, plenty girls who feel like whores, and plenty girls who actually like me. They all, including right now, cuddled up with me afterwards. Not only did she cuddle-hug me but she made out with me, then asked, “did you miss me?” Even though I was pressured to say yes, I really did miss her.

An hour goes by. I txt her asking if she wants to hang out New Years Eve; maybe dinner, no drinking if you want. Nothing has changed here. She doesn’t want to. Either something’s going on I don’t know about or I have been downgraded to a lower rung in her life. There’s nothing wrong with being on a lower rung, except she shouldn’t be doing it to the devil. Maybe a normal person will get the message and sacrifice his fucking integrity to be on this lower rung, because I get you can’t control other people, but who says letting go of control or that person entirely has ever helped anyone? You become that lower rung and get stepped on constantly with things never changing. Fact is you control and shape what you can, and the devil can control/shape more because the devil has a wider window of leverage.

I’m straight up sabotaging her by not picking up my kid Monday. She’ll be stuck babysitting while I’m out replacing her pussy. I’m not saying I’m going to actively find new pussy, because my heart wouldn’t be congruent to that behavior, hence the last breakup, but if I get pushed that far and if the opportunities fall my way, my niggur the devil has my back enough to make me forget about any incongruency.

Scrooged It All Up

There’s too many fucking people in the world. Everywhere I walk, an idiot here, a moron there.

Parked the car. Stereotypic poor black guy asking for change. “NO.” I proceed into Walgreens, hit up the cold medicine isle. *May I help you find something, sir?* “NO.”

Do I want your fucking help. Did I ask for it? Do you think I can’t learn to figure shit out on my own? For christs sake there’s labels and information on the boxes for a reason. You and your fucking bullshit job “contributing” to society with your fake hospitality. How bout I snap your fucking neck. May I help you with that, sir?

That’s how my tone sounds like when I NO.

Anyways, I’m in my flannel peejays because I been in bed all day dealing with a fever. To avoid further social interaction, I leap-step toward the cashier. *Hi, do you have a cash rewards card with us?* “NO.” *Would you like one?* “NO!” After I laid it down like that, the robotic bitch didnt say another word; not even happy holidays.

Then I grab my receipt and gravitate towards my car, taking a path that goes around the black guy on the bench.

I didn’t get this way because I have a measly fever. Though, this month has intensified me “being this way.”

I rather not go down memory lane, that’s what therapy’s for. If I wanted “help” and to get “better” I would pursue therapy. Truth is I WANT TO GET WORSE. The last thing I want is to be a better person using talk therapy to shape my thoughts into a positive neural framework. Who gives a flying fuck. We live and then we die.

8 billion fucking people in the world. So what if god’s not real? So what if he is and has a galactical cock with seasonal bells hanging from it? It’s really irrelevant when you put it into perspective- This planet is overpopulated by 8 billion. I care not if they’re all good or all bad and shitty or all delusional, new age, unique snowflake, fairy fucks. There’s just too many people and that pisses me off each time I journey out into society; it’s even a hassle just to get my mail from my own mailbox sometimes.

So the fuck what, you ask? Nothing the fuck what. I’m not here to brainstorm solutions. This is merely a TKO bag, courtesy of Oatisb1.

Anyways, yeah, “being this way” is my authentic truth. My whole life I was bullshitting myself, expected to adapt and mend to the myth of our dear society. It was only last month when I snapped back into hard, earthly reality.

Since then I broke up with the nicest, most perfect, pregnant girlfriend for no reason whatsoever, other than I bullshitted myself into thinking that if I just gave it more time maybe we’ll establish some semblance of a connection. Fact is I just didnt like her. Another fact is just this last weekend I got carried away with the “I just didnt like her” thought. I put her stuff outside Saturday and told her to kick rocks by the next morning. The next morning I let her wait under the canopy out back while she waited for her brothers to bring the uhaul. My last words before I shut and locked the sliding door were, “I pray to Satan every night you miscarry.” I didn’t mean it, of course, but I’m a product of what I’m pushed to. My anger is impulsive; other useless people attempt to escalate it to no avail. I don’t care if its sad and selfish, nor do I think it’s cool or empowering being this way. When a bitch gives you a redeemable-only-to-her coupon for a pair of running shoes on your birthday, you follow through on your promise, BITCH. I am what I am and I intend to embrace my truth.

The other ex-girlfriend with whom I have a child with went on match.com and fucked two dudes, trying to convince herself she’s moving beyond me. Sex driven by spite means you’re a _ _ u _.

However, last month she text me in the middle of the night “I miss you.” Then a week later “I broke up with the guy I was seeing.” This week I make myself vulnerable and, what do ya know, she isn’t receptive to my advances, at least not directly. She’s throwing the typical teeny bopper victimhood shenanigans at me, “how can I trust you again,” “you broke my heart.” “I will not do this to myself again.”

Personally, I refuse to go through this bullshit “half in half out prove it to me” process again. It’s tedious and stupid. You’re either with me or against me; and, if you’re neither and prefer to straddle the fence, then I prefer to jerk my dick to a photochopped playboy cover of a nude Santa Clause sticking number 2 pencils up an elf’s asshole.

Let’s recap:

1. There’s way too many fucking people in the world. Most should just die, including me.

2. I’m not going through that bullshit process, nor should anybody, in which bitch led you on, then denied you when you were purely receptive to her.

3. Merry fucking Christmas. I feel sorry for any of you miserable lowlifes if you read this entire thing.