i like a man with subordinates. students, employees, fans, listeners, admirers, constituents, etc. but i don’t want to be treated like a subordinate, or be led like one. maybe that’s not true. let me rephrase: i like to have a say, i think i have great taste but im willing to be wrong. we can split having the final say. i want to be your respite. keeper of secrets and grievances. secretary almost. i can book the hotels. the spa treatments. i like clerical tasks. but if you wants to do it that’s ok too. i don’t mind. i would let you [REDACTED] from my [REDACTED]. i’d call you my [TERM OF ENDEARMENT THAT HAS BEEN REDACTED]. but you kind of have to have subordinates for that to work for me. i can’t get hard if you don’t. im sorry. and its not like you have to be famous or anything, im not a starfucker. just turned on by power and influence, like everyone else. though it is super convenient when a guy has a wiki page because im bad at remembering birthdays. probably has to be a writer in some way. not like books. i mean, it can be books. but there are many ways you can be a writer. you can write plenty of things. put it this way, i’ve never dated a not writer. and i’ve dated a doctor, a comedy writer, and a professor. the last one was the worst but we can disparage our exes together some night under the moonlight or in bed at a boutique hotel and never speak of it again. you must have a way with words. ok id prefer you’re not like, a popular twitter account though, because that’s my thing. well at least not a RW twitter account, the ones i’ve met are all such losers. no offense. except one. i won’t tell you which one. don’t want to date someone who can never submit to me in a gentle way. i would never deny [REDACTED]. i have an outrageously high [REDACTED]. but never be cruel to me. no name calling or hard spanking and choking. that’s how you end up on dateline. would rather not end up on dateline. i’d like it if you wanted to be called [REDACTED]. but keep me pampered and spoiled like an exotic gorgeous house pet. i welcome a golden cage. i have a pretty high standard for comfort. ok, like really high standard for comfort. you should too. you should appreciate a good sweater, nice hotels, massages, sensible shoes, supima cotton, i don’t know. you should enjoy michelin restaurants but enjoy going to a shitty dive with me just as much. also you should give me your credit card, or at least add me as an authorized user. what are you hiding it for? you have to give me your credit card. cmon. cmonnnnn. you also adore me and brush my hair and stroke my arm lightly. oh, and you have to be into [REDACTED]. i [REDACTED] my [REDACTED] to keep it as [REDACTED] as i can. because i want it [REDACTED] with [REDACTED AND REDACTED]! NO DIETARY RESTRICTIONS FOR CHRIST SAKE. eat the meat the dairy the oysters the squid and drink the booze with me. circling back to the wordsmith requirement: i expect a constant flow of compliments and praises and odes to my beauty. you have to be funny. but not funnier than me. that shouldn’t be hard, i’m really funny.

who you should be:

you should be anywhere from 5’10 to 6’3. if that upsets you i’m sorry that you couldn’t be 5’10 to 6’3. no one gets an award for lowering their standards, im afraid. fortune favors the bold anyway. you should have brown hair of any shade but very dark hair is preferable. you should wear your hair kind of long. exceptions can be made for blondes but you have to look like dave foley. kidding but not really. redheads need not inquire. eyes can be any color. you should have a neotenous face. that’s important. crucial. you should be anywhere from 35-44. you can be a little older or younger than that. you can be divorced. i’d be a little worried if you were over 38 and hadn’t been married before. but would really prefer if you didn’t have children. if you do i’d prefer those children to be at least college aged. under high school is tough. no tots. you should like animals. you should have experience dating latinas. or at least an interest in latin culture. if you have an asian fetish, that is a very hard no for me. if any woman has ever had your abortion we’re gonna have to have a really serious talk about that upfront. you dont snore. listen to me, you do not snore. don’t be mentally ill. it’s fun for a while but ultimately i can’t do it. plus im mentally ill and our children have to have a fighting chance. you’re politically much further left than me, but you don’t mind that. i have a bad temper. i’d prefer if you didn’t provoke it very often. sometimes it’s ok. screaming matches are an aphrodisiac. but id like if you diffused escalations more often than not. its not hard, dont take what i say too seriously. one day ill wake up having dreamt you cheated on me and text you that im going to pay the cartel 15000 pesos to skin you alive and turn you into fruit leather. to this you say, oh my love, what an imagination you have. i would never cheat on you and im sure the cartel would charge much less. id laugh and we’d make love. simple. i’d like if you had long slim legs. i like long slim legs. i have a thing. you have your thing too, im sure. i dont mind indulging your thing. you should dress simply. kind of academic. i’d like if you didn’t work a traditional 9-5. but no starving artists, though i think they weeded themselves out long ago. you should be american. bonus if you grew up in a large urban city. so did i. you can be not american, within reason. you should have an appreciation for urbanism. i do. you should be really smart, but i already know you are. a lot of the questions i ask and demands i make are to filter for things without outright saying it. aren’t i so wily? id appreciate if you were as well spoken and diplomatic as me. propose to me in 3 years tops. 2 is ideal. i enjoy a pear cut diamond.

ok. any questions? oh, you want to know about me? well, shouldn’t you already know about me? you follow me, don’t you? okay well… i didn’t expect to get put on the spot like this. i mean this is a date me manifesto, not a what i have to offer you manifesto, right? right?

no i’m kidding. see, that’s that world class humor i was talking about earlier. you should already know a good amount about me, though. i’m expecting this to reach my followers and perhaps slightly beyond. i’m definitely not expecting some twitterbuxxcel to get his grubby little hands on this and dunk on me and get a million views. oh and another thing, i have thick skin. you should too. i hate wilting lilies. i will call you a pansy and you won’t like it.

i’m not perfect, but im willing to change for you. :-) is that good? good enough? ok. inquire within. you know where to find me. dm is fine. let me know and make sure i know what you look like.

if you do happen to be a dead ringer for young dave foley, peruvian journalist jaime baley from ages 26-42, young louis theroux, jason bateman, or will arnett, you can disregard this entire thing and let me know where to find you as soon as possible.

and if you’re [redacted] from [redacted] i’ll purchase the pear ring for you. seriously.

there are very few topics i feel ready to debate. the best 4am bars in chicago, which era of SNL is the funniest, and why 1977 was the best year there’s ever been for both film and music.

oh, and the state of sex online from my perspective as an elder zoomer.

which is why i’m so excited to share with you all that on september 16th, i will be part of a debate presented by substack on that very topic!

please come join me, , , and friends in chicago at teatro zinzanni on september 16th at 7pm for a soapbox showdown. tickets are free, but first come first serve.

you don’t want to miss it. see you there!

tickets 🎫

Read more

where i go over my recent tweets, and explain what compelled me to write them. this is less funny and less “blassie” and more conversational. like we’re hanging out in a conversation pit in a large house

Read more

but i want to be on my phone less and in the world more. i want to want to go to the mall. they’re just not making it easier for me. at the mall you’re lucky to find something you sort of want. has it always been this way? there’s this tiktok that posts old videos of people shopping at Woodfield mall in Schaumburg, Illinois, 50 minutes outside of chicago. this is old footage from the 90s. in one of the clips someone asks a group of girls what they are shopping for and they giggle and say they’re on the hunt to find boys. that’s another thing you don’t have to go out for anymore. you can filter so many things on the apps now too, age, race, height, education. you can find exactly what you want. a lot of perverted and cursed pairings are born from these measures. they’ll say it’s so minority groups get to match with other from the same group. they’ll say it’s so people can choose to only be shown profiles within their age range. sure, they have to say that. but it’s so that guys in their late 30s can effectively doordash barely legal girls with pill problems to their apartment who don’t know any better. i am not referring to myself or any experience i’ve ever had. i’m just saying that’s what happens.

exactly what you want can’t be good for you. you should get sort of what you want and find out a way to be happy with it. sometimes when i watch porn i will attempt an exercise where i pick something from the home page. no searching, scrolling, sifting, nothing of the sort. like a bank heist, in and out in 15 minutes. to get around this sometimes i will exit incognito mode and go back to my regular browser because the home page will be full of what i watch anyway, since the algorithm has learned me. i know that defeats the purpose but i find a way to rationalize it in my head. what’s great about the mall is auntie anne’s. i really love that place. but the drinks are too sugary for my sensitive teeth. they’re too sugary for anyone’s oral health. i’ve been telling myself i’m going to go to the store to get sensodyne. i don’t do it. i’m really afraid of going outside.

my sinuses are clogged. i’m on my period and i'm free bleeding into a towel. i don't subscribe to Big Tampon. Big Q-Tip on the other hand has its claws in me. i went too deep again. i asked my mom to hide the q-tips from me. i can't control myself. i have a fever and it is 4am and for this reason i can’t sleep. my entire body is hot like a furnace. the last time i had a fever was in january, i was deathly ill. i searched on google 

“is it normal to be more horny when you’re sick”

“is it normal to be more horny when you have a fever reddit”

a few people said they have. some guy said he puked on his wife. in one deleted post this girl talks about how her boyfriend gets excited when she gets a fever because it feels “best”. she doesn't elaborate on what makes it "best". sounds like my kind of guy. the comments do not agree. they say that he gives them the creeps. what do they know about anything. others say they also get horny while hungover, which is a bit too much for me. recently my hangovers have been getting bad, although it's mostly mental, and i'm aroused by the thought of death by carbon monoxide poisoning and nothing else. apparently, fever sex was mentioned in the book lolita, but i wouldn't know because the copy i own is merely for decoration. humbert humbert had a french word for it, of course he did. non reddit articles advise against it, citing that you're probably in far too weak of a state, and over exerting yourself could only lead to further dehydration and illness. hadn't thought of that. i was actually too weak to hold a spoon to my mouth. i was also alone.

but persistent nonetheless. i tried to find some fever themed erotica, preferably written by some fat bitch in nebraska that crotchets and owns too many cats so i could be sure i was getting some quality prose, but i couldn't find it. maybe i didn't look hard enough, but even my initial search yielded only a few results, by the 5th or 6th link things were already getting irrelevant. the combination of the words sick and horny summoned a post titled IM SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF BEING HORNY from r/teenagers. you can imagine the rest. 

either i am really bad at working search engines or platitudes about how you are not alone do not apply to me. the latter being something i already strongly suspect. but the former being probably true also. 

today i rode in silence half an hour each way with my disgruntled father to the only open aldi for their store brand spinach dip. i was bedrotmaxxing for a few days and i decided to go out yesterday. sometimes i’m on my phone so long it hurts my brain and body. so me and my best friend went to division fest to have a meal and sat down when what's your fantasy by ludacris started to play. i told her a story about when a remix of the song was trending on tiktok and me and my ex boyfriend were having dinner outdoors on division, sort of like we were doing now, at sea and olive, a MID mediterranean restaurant that no longer exists and has now been replaced with another med place named elia. it doesn’t look any more promising. i played the remix from my phone that i had saved on soundcloud, often the only place you will find the catchy ear worms tiktok pushes to you. he said blassie this song has been around since you were born. and i went sure but it’s the first time i’m enjoying it and it’s remixed. 

he went this is what i used to hear at the club. back when i was your age. why don’t you hang out with your friends and go to the club. 

which is something he’d often tell me. i'd go because i’m with you. why isn't that enough. and also i’m not 21 yet. he was mean. he was in a bad mood because they told us they would not be able to seat us at homestead on the roof even though we had a reservation, so we had to stand at the bar with all of the people told the same thing. does it smell like a school gymnasium in here. why bother making a reservation. 

why bother at all. my attempts at light hearted humor were all for naught. so they tore sea and olive down. my depressing memories had no such luck. 

cici and i were having the dan dan noodles from lao peng you, one of our favorite dishes when hungover. i  thought this place was a hole in the wall when we first went because of their bare bones decor but should have known something was up when all of their cashiers looked like models. they have a very popular instagram page, followed by friends of your friends and the other cool restaurants you follow. but the noodles at the fest disappointed. too chewy. too dry. have them at the restaurant, you won’t regret it. the people operating the lao peng you stand were playing the ludacris song. they also played so anxious by ginuwine. another one with a memory attached but i’ll spare you the details of that one. they were dancing and taking shots. i remarked to cici what do they think this is the fucking bear. we both laughed. i like the tough guy, food snob, ironic tattoo, “the only thing darker than my coffee is my sense of humor” vibe of restaurant staff that the cool places in every major city have. it’s like they hate their customers even though their clientele is the most over apologetic, anxious middle class WFH fair tipping believe the science ass liberal people to exist. you bully them not the other way around. the “karen” is a psychosexual fantasy that a lot of people have but seldom do they encounter. the servers of a chilis in midlothodian, illinois have the right to complain. you guys don't. you guys have it good. 

i went to cici’s apartment and got a really bad allergic reaction to her cat. i’m allergic to cats. this isn’t like, news to me. i’m very allergic to cats. but i figured once we got out into the fresh air it’d go away, my itchy eyes would know peace and i’d stop snotting like a kindergartener too anxious to ask for tissue paper. i say that as if that’s not who i was and am. i hate asking for tissue. i’ll drip onto the sleeve of my shirt until it can no longer fit any more liquid.  

sometimes i ask myself “blassie why do you make it so easy for people to make fun of you, you rile them up and show them where they can twist the knife” 

and the answer is i don’t know. 

and lately it does feel like people are laughing at me instead of with me. when people have recognized me from the internet the past few times they have struggled to find their words 

Read more

don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous to think people want to read your thoughts any more than they already have to?

i agree. i’m sorry i’m always on your timeline. but i can always say “well, no one has to read this if they don’t want to.” it’s true, they certainly don’t. 

what about the 5 dollar paywall? 

that only exists so that i can write what i want without fear of someone accidentally stumbling upon it. if you want to pay that’s your own journey. but this post is free.

that’s a good answer. but it’s not what you really want to say, is it? 

it’s not. i think you should read what i write and pay for it because i’m very special and gifted. 

is that really how you feel? 

yes.

interesting. where are you currently?

alone in the apartment.

is it true that when you’re in your ex’s apartment and you’re eating popcorn, you sometimes get grossed out when a piece of it falls onto the couch because all you can think about is how it could be coming into contact with the sexual secretions of other women he’s invited over from tinder and fucked on that same couch? 

yeah. he’s a philanderer. i throw away the popcorn. 

gross to eat on the couch anyway. but as far you know, only your stuff is on that couch. you have reason to suspect otherwise, but no solid evidence. 

right. it’s like a cat with a laser pointer. never caught him, i just kept pawing at the carpet and getting no relief

he wasn’t particularly good at hiding his cheating. you’re just very gullible. and slow.

that’s part of it

it’s been over for more than a year. why are we still talking about this?

i dunno. i’m over him but getting cheated on broke my brain. i can’t trust anyone. when the cat realizes he is impotent in the face of the laser, it drives him insane. cats can get OCD that way, seriously.

no more cat stuff

okay

despite how much you bad mouth him you still live at his apartment. 

only when he’s out of town. it’s a great location, close to my friends-

you only have 1 friend. 

okay. close to my friend. and it’s a beautiful space, the train and several buses only steps away-

are you trying to sell me this apartment? 

stop interrupting. and it’s not like you can afford it. 

i’ll make the jokes here. are you going to tell us about how you’re only staying there because you’re blackmailing him?

it’s not blackmail

yes it is. you can go on and on about walkability scores and being surrounded by good restaurants but the biggest appeal of it is being away from your mom, isn’t it? 

yeah. 

why do you hate her so much? 

i didn’t say that. she’s just very smothering, extremely neurotic, i’m trying to cut off the umbilical cord, it gets overwhelming to be around her.

sounds like someone i know. 

apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

no kidding. care to keep piling on your poor mother?

only behind a paywall. 

coward. do you think talking about your ex boyfriend is a substitute for a personality? 

no. 

it isn’t. and making a clown of yourself to thousands of people on the internet is not a substitute for a career, either 

sometimes hundreds of thousands. it pays the bills. 

bills? 

it’s just an expression. 

it sates your need for attention? 

that’s what i meant.

but no amount of attention, good or bad, has really helped. if anything, it leaves you contorting yourself for more when the steady stream of hate begins to run dry. only saying more bizarre things and alienating people who used to like you. 

yes. i’m trying to be better. 

you’re banned on twitter right now for how many more days? 

4 days, 18 hours. 

that’s why you’re writing this? 

it seems like it. 

who is calling your phone right now? 

it’s my ex. i called him 10 times to tell him about how when i was using the faucet this morning there was a flash of muddy water running, before the water got clear again. it scared me. 

he’s paying how much for this place? why didn’t he pick up the first 10 times? 

he said he was in shul. and he wasn’t using his phone because it’s shabbat. 

do you believe him? 

not for a second. 

all of a sudden he’s religious. well he’s in miami, and why else would he be in miami? 

whores and drugs. 

i didn’t want to be the one to tell you. 

trust me, i know. 

do you think writing this and posting it is ruining all potential romantic prospects, something you say you so desperately crave? 

yeah but they were already pretty ruined. 

i know. trick question 

gosh

your followers don’t believe that you’re really lonely. 

i know. they have no idea what i feel 

what are you listening to? 

atomic by blondie. 

you first heard that song in los angeles, really showing your age. how was that trip? 

it was fun. 

remember when someone on twitter anonymously called you a SoCal 5? 

only everyday. 

they’re right, you know.

i know 

it looked fun. you don’t deserve to have that much fun. you’re not thinking of moving there, are you? 

i don’t think you have to suffer in order to deserve enjoying yourself

yes you do. you have literally always thought this

it’s true i have

if people don’t like you in chicago why would they like you in LA, or new york, or anywhere else?

no idea. they might not. 

they don’t. 

ok. 

do people like you in chicago?

i find it incredibly difficult to speak to others and i feel like this stops me from forming real friendships. also i’m really dumb and a bad conversationalist

what do you have to say to people who are inevitably going to say you’re trying to be delicious tacos?

i’d say that you only say that because of the subject of my writing and there are far worse things you can be. i really enjoy his writing and sometimes i write in short direct sentences because i’m afraid if i go on too long i’ll get too flowery and poetic and it’ll start to sound like i’m trying too-

got it. is it true that you dropped out of community college? 

i thought i said no more interruptions 

you were going on too long and i feared you’d get too flowery

fine. yes i did 

i know you did but i wanted to remind you. are you craving something right now? 

yes. ice cream. 

why?

i’ve cut down on my ativan a lot. and i quit vaping. as a result i’ve been eating a lot of sugar. i don’t have much of a sweet tooth either, but it’s how i’ve been coping 

would you say you have an addictive personality?

most ardently 

i like when you’re addicted to something that makes you lose weight instead of gaining it. like vaping. 

me too. but it was really bad and making my throat and lungs hurt

how much weight have you gained in the past two weeks? 

i’m not sure. haven’t been home to step on a scale

you were home for a day

yeah but i only like to weigh myself in the morning. before i’ve eaten. after i’ve peed. and if i ate too late the previous day i don’t like to weigh myself at all. 

neurotic 

i’m interviewing myself so that kind of goes without saying

can you trust yourself not to eat half the pint in one 

unfortunately not 

how long has this taken you to write? 

honestly over an hour. 

and it’s still no good? 

it’s no portnoy’s complaint but i think it’s fine

you’re too broke for psychoanalysis 

are you getting back at me for saying you’re too broke for this apartment earlier? 

yes. also you literally did not pay your psychoanalyst last year 

it was a few sessions. did you see his home office? he’ll be fine. he has a shiba inu

he heavily discounted his hour rate because he knew you when we were a medicaid teenager and felt bad for you. 

i know.

did you think he’d finally sleep with you this time? 

i had a very male reaction to psychoanalysis, i no longer wanted to sleep with him and instead felt disgust and anger towards him 

that is very male. are you trans? 

no just high testosterone i think 

is that why you’re so aggressive? please don’t say it’s because you’re latina. that shtick got so old two years ago 

well 

is that what you were going to say? 

i think that it’s part of it 

you’re not even a real latina. you’ve never been back to mexico. your spanish is awful. your interests and fashion more closely resemble those of any NPR lib in the neighborhood you’re in right now

i think i’m going to get that ice cream now 

where? 

foxtrot 

proving my point. first time leaving the apartment today? 

no my dad stopped by to drop off some stuff earlier 

oh that’s right. and you yelled at him, right? 

i was frustrated because my mom always ends up packing way too much stuff and it takes up too much space even though i tell her to not and it’s a whole thing 

it’s because she loves you. what’d you say to him?

i know. i screamed “i don’t need all this shit! i have this! and i have this too!” throwing a pair of contacts and contact solution bottle to the backseat of the car. he asked me if i needed a ride somewhere and i said “where the fuck would i need a ride to?!” 

and you said your spanish was bad? 

i’m fluent in screaming 

you did this while people could hear you, right? 

sometimes my anger gives me tunnel vision and i forget i’m around people 

what’d he say? 

he laughed. sometimes people think it’s cute when i get riled up. and then i laugh too. 

do you have anger issues? 

fucking obviously

no need to get aggressive. i’m just doing my job. can i say one thing without you getting upset? 

sure

you don’t belong in a middle class neighborhood. your bank account was over drafted this morning and you behave like a wild animal. the hood always suited you 

yeah but i’m trying to leave

they’ll know you’re a ghetto lunatic 

i’m really gonna get that pint now 

on your credit card? 

obviously 

you’re back. how was it?

i got a holiday pint cuz it was 25 percent off 

how’s that working out for you?

there’s a reason it was on clearance

there always is. can i ask you a question people actually want to know now instead of this weird masturbatory thing you’ve been doing 

sure

when are you going to do porn?

never

think you’re too good for it? 

no but the answer is still no

people are tired of you baring your soul. they just want to see your boobs

don’t hold your breath

you like writing? 

i do 

you have bad grammar

i barely finished high school 

what are you fearful of right now?

that this is too long. or too short. or bad. and people maybe read part of it but stopped. 

i think everyone dropped off at this point. 

yeah. i think we’re alone now

it’s the next morning, how did you sleep? 

pretty poorly. towards the end i had a dream i was pregnant and couldn’t find a public restroom. and it was raining. and my ex died. his mom was there. 

remember when you made his mom cry? 

yeah. i didn’t mean to. i feel really bad about that. 

but not about making him cry everyday? 

no, him and my mother cry everyday. so when i make them cry i figure they would’ve found a reason to do that anyway. they used to text a lot, they were actually friends. crybabies. it was weird.

unfortunately you find that they have more in common than you’re comfortable admitting. you always look for your mother in a boyfriend. do you cry a lot?

not necessarily. she just has great qualities, she is nurturing, doting, fiercely loyal, has disposed of dead bodies for me and would do it again. i don’t cry as much as they do. i just take a picture of it every time and post it to twitter so it seems like i do. i cry a lot when im heartbroken. or frustrated. 

you should note that the dead bodies are pet corpses, and that they died of natural causes. 

if i saw a sick cat in my backyard i would beg my parents to let me take it in. and i was on the wrong end of a craigslist scam. i bought a sick kitty in a walgreens parking lot. i couldn’t stand to look at them, stiff and lifeless. my mom dutifully took care of it and never told me the details. she’s a pro. 

she’s incredible. do you fear that if you talk too much about how you have low self esteem people will start to view you similar to how you view yourself? 

i feel like i have to issue a disclaimer after most everything i say. yes im writing, but don’t think i think it’s any good, etc. once i issue the disclaimer we can move on. i just have so many disclaimers.

masturbatory 

you can’t even pronounce that word

did you just get dumped recently?

yes. this guy i’d been going on dates with. fun dates great banter and also such a great face. crowded lower teeth, i find that really attractive. looked like young matthew broderick and michael j fox mixed together. and i had a really intense crush on him but it faded immediately when i got back from my trip. 

why?

i don’t want to say. 

you realized you could do better? 

i’m trying to remember that i have my whole life ahead of me and i’ve yet to experience so much of the world. and that i’m a kind, charming, good looking young woman.

do you believe that at all?

no. 

but as long as other people sort of believe it, it doesn’t really matter if you do, right?

the world is my oyster

you’re going to end up alone. also, you think you can do better than a lawyer that looks like matthew broderick and michael j fox’s love child?

i’ll live. also he forgot to make reservations once and we almost didn’t get a table. i got a blowout to see him! 

your mother would never. 

it’s just like… i’m asking you to make a reservation, not build a house with your bare hands. standing in front of the host stand like an idiot, i imagined what life would be like together. i’m holding a crying baby and he FORGOT to stop to get diapers. he FORGOT to pick us up from the doctors office. he FORGOT our baby is allergic to tree nuts. and he FORGOT the epipen. baby’s throat closes up. baby dies. baby died before baby was born. i already resent him, like a sitcom wife. 

you hadn’t even asked him to dispose of a kitten corpse yet

schopenhauer says conception begins when the parents start to love each other. 

doomed from the start. but don’t you think your standards are pretty high for a girl with fat arms?

yeah. i hate my arms, i can feel them right now. just being like, enormous. doubling in size

ice cream won’t help. also, just work out. it’s that simple. this is getting long 

yeah but only because it’s like, dialogue 

are we calling it that? 

what else would it be called!? 

do you have dissociative identity disorder? 

i was alone a lot as a child. making up stories for my dolls was my favorite thing to do. aside from playing monopoly by myself. once i was in a marshall’s that caught fire and my dad rushed me out, i remember seeing the flames. there was a garage sale down the road and they bought me the biggest dollhouse i would ever own. i would find new details in it every now and then, like a painting on the miniature walls that i hadn’t noticed before. i’m not sure but i think there’s something to that. we’d go to garage sales a lot. once i bought fairy wings and wore them home, and didn’t take them off for days. my mom also had trouble getting me into regular clothes. i liked being in my underwear a lot even when it wasn’t appropriate. we still have this argument now. i hated the way clothes felt against my skin. to this day my favorite thing to do is pretend. i asked my friend if she’d get on all fours and pretend to be a dog with me and i don’t think she wanted to. i’m watching the people in the building across from me from the window

are you a voyeur?

not in a sexual way. isn’t it funny that there is a voyeur category of porn? as if regular porn isn’t already that. if you watch porn that is voyeurism.

you didn’t answer either of those questions lol

let’s wrap up soon. what else have you got for me? 

did i ask if you’d do porn? 

the answer is still no 

even after sleeping on it? 

yes. i enjoy sex, food, sleep, and going to the park. to make any of them work would vacuum out the fun from it. i’m going out to the balcony, it’s nice out

are you going to give your neighbors a day off from seeing you in your underwear?

yeah, i just put on pants

your ex is fucking women way hotter than you right now

naturally, it’s miami. 

he lied and said he wasn’t fucking at all. 

so pious all of a sudden. 

what do you care if he’s fucking other women? 

i don’t. 

sure. that’s why we’re talking about it. are you sleepy? 

i think i’m just jealous that women don’t like me. i think i’m gonna take a nap on the couch. let’s actually wrap this up. 

okay. are you in a bad mood now?

no, just tired. 

what do you call it when 3 of your ex’s and your best friends ex are visiting the same city all at once? 

blonde bermuda triangle. 

that’s not even funny and it still made you smile to type it. 

it did. 

i knew i could cheer you up. did you want to make one last disclaimer? 

oh yeah. i used to have that app where people sent you anonymous questions and people were like “you’re totally sending these to yourself.” cause they were so doting. i fear that posting this and showing how skilled i am at inventing dialogue between two people when really it’s just me will confirm their suspicions. what happened is the majority of those messages were sent by the same 2 people, i later found out. 

you didn’t have to say that. 

but i wanted to. 

what did you want to say to people who will say that this incredibly long, boring, and self indulgent piece full of grammatical errors is an offense to writers, readers, and all people who are not blind? 

i’m thinking about publishing it in braille. 

Subscribe now