Whiney Little Freshmeat

I apologize to my readers who don't get a good laugh out of my single girl adventures. I have self respect, but sometimes ladies is pimps too. And by that I mean everyone has to have some fun.

While staying in the loop with the whole "mating" disasters, today is really no different.

Make sure to link up with some gal pals and I on thursday to tell us about your terribly horrid online dating disaster!

Meet guy. We shall call him Freshmeat Freddy. 

Background story on FF: Met him at school. Fell in love with him because he was one hundred and sixty two percent my type. What could be freakin better? I should have stopped myself from ruining my dreams right there. Granted he was a little smaller (height/weight wise...jeez get your mind out of the gutter) than I wanted but you can't get all your qualifications met. We talked, he was awkward. OH BOY EVEN MORE MY TYPE. We exchanged numbers, went to a club meeting together (woah romantic right?), texted here and there to meet up but never happened. 

Finally one night, Freshmeat Freddy and I were free at the same time. We hung out, obvi. I learned more about who he was. And what was that, you may ask? Gosh darn annoying and immature, hence freshmeat. Aka he's younger than me. I left not really wanting to ever talk to him again besides if I want something from him. Ya know... My apologies. 

It's my blog so I guess it would make sense for you to leave if you are unhappy with my life choice or want to send me hatemail. Otherwise, proceed. 

He texted me the night after our hangout (which ended terribly. He was throwing a tantrum like a child #lame) asking if I wanted to hang out again. I just played too cool to care and said that I was with friends. Blew him off, buh bye!

A few weeks have gone by and I decided I wanted to see what he was up to. Here is exactly how it went (after I said hey first):

Alright so no. I will not give you a pitty party, or rub your head or stay by your bedside and bring you soup and be your mommy and make you feel better. Like, why cant you just not freaking answer me. I probably would have appreciated that MUCH more.

Things I'd rather be doing than care about your headache:

1. Scrub off dead skin from my body

2. Blog about it (oh wait...thanks dude!)

3. Drink and proceed to tell you off about how immature you are

4. Driving into a random state filled with farm land, amish people, and trailer parks with no cell phone reception.

5. Tumblr my pathetic teenage life away

6. Take up a new sport. Maybe like crew or something? Ya know got all dat upper body strength going for me.

7. Learn the lyrics to every TuPac song. I mean that would be pretty cool...

8. Sit on tinder and find boys that would rather tell me that they think I'm pretty (oh gosh wow thanks rando) who WOULDN'T text me to complain about their headache because lets be real almost every guy on tinder is on there for the same reasons. Shout out to the dude's who actually are normal.

9.Work on my two presentations that are due next week. Which says a lot....

10. Read conversations from my ex which makes me miss him hide in a pop out cake and end up at the wrong party.

Bottom line: You are a potential hook up. Not boyfriend. Therefore, I could care less about your whiney little brain with a headache on the side.

And I'm sure we all know how my relationship with Freshmeat Freddy stands.

Granted, he's a nice guy but #OnToTheNextOne

Make sure to link up!

Alright future boyfriend, you can come save me now.