Posted by: anniewilson | January 8, 2009

Good morning!

First of all, my dog is driving me nuts. Ever since I got back from the hospital, he has been needier than any two premenstrual women whom I have ever met. He is next to me constantly. He’s always liked me but this is insane. I don’t know how to deal with it and nothing I do will stop it. He is constantly knocking my arms with his head and putting it in my lap or trying to climb into a chair next to me. That would be OK if he were a poodle but he weighs more than I do and the recliner is a one seater. I can’t believe that HE doesn’t get sick of this. It’s literally every waking moment of the day. He starts the day by climbing off the bed and sitting on the floor on my side of the bed, quietly whining until I wake up and whine back at him. Then, he annoys the hell out of me until bedtime when I climb into bed and he jumps up on the bed and lays over my legs in an apparent effort to keep me pinned. I’ve NEVER had this problem before and I don’t know what to do, any ideas? I don’t want to put him in the crate if I can avoid it but he’s gonna trip me one day and I won’t be able to talk my way out of the hospital next time. It’s literally a safety hazard.

OK, I also have another problem which is much nicer to contemplate. It’s a problem that I’ve had for my entire dating life…men younger than I am are about the only nibbles I seem to get. There’s occasionally a guy my own age, and once in a while there’s even a old, old dude. But for the most part, all of the guys who ask me out are at the very least, 10 years my junior. I don’t advertise my age, so they have no clue how old I am and it wouldn’t be a problem except for one thing…if a 37 year old wanted to, they could easily get a chick in her 20’s. I do NOT feel like dealing with that in the least. I know I won’t ever marry one of these guys, but if I don’t go out with them, I don’t go out.

A mid 30’s guy (the age that I seem to attract the most) wants to take me a comedy club this weekend. I’d love to go out to a comedy club and I don’t even know who’s appearing yet. I’m sure that we would have a great time and ordinarily I would leave it at that but this is getting ridiculous. The last guy I dated who was even NEAR my age was the Confusing Dude and I’ve known him for years. Even my fuckbuddy is in his 30’s but that’s OK, who would want an old fuckbuddy? That would be like hiring Nancy Grace to poll dance. It’d just be stupid. But in the meantime, I have to deal with all of these youngsters. It isn’t too bad until I put it in perspective. My son is 31 and these guys aren’t much older than he is at all. I could have been their mother if I had been a 12 year old slut…but when I was 12 I was still playing with Barbie Dolls.

It’s not like I go hang out at 30 Something Dudes-R-Us…I don’t. They come at me from every direction. I can’t seem to avoid them. Of course I’ve never really tried, as I said, they come at me from everywhere so I wouldn’t even know how to avoid them. And seriously, I don’t want to. I suppose the only solution to that problem is to say “Cheers!” and be on my merry way to that comedy club but every time another guy that age asks me out I just wonder again.

I immediately think that there’s no future in this and I’m a chick. We think about future’s and stuff like that early on. And then I ask myself, “Do I really want to ride that particular horse if I know it’ll break stride somewhere before it crosses the finish line?” Then I usually think, “Oh, what the hell, it’ll be fun.” So off I go on another one of my escapades. If nothing else, they could be good for a post or two.

That, of course, is another problem…even if a relationship DOES begin, sooner or later this blog will pop up in conversation and then the guys can go back and read everything that I said about them. That’s never good, no matter what I’ve said. I don’t keep this thing specifically to keep the men away, but it does work really well. If you wanted to get rid of a guy, copy January of 2005 from the archives and paste it into a blog of your own and tell him that’s what you did when your hubby cheated on you. That’ll get him to run swiftly away. You have my permission to do that.

OK…OK…OK. I just called an audible. Beware of quiet guys. Sometimes they’re mysterious but more often than not they’re complete morons. This is one date that will never come to fruition because that guy just called me and he is one stupid mother fucker. I knew that he lived in Macon because I remember that from when I met him. I noticed the thick southern drawl at that time but one of those could actually be endearing. That is if you aren’t out with Jethro Bodine.

I learned a long time ago that good ol‘ boys were just that, good ‘ol boys. I enjoy them. But they aren’t all idiots. Andthey all had vehicles…they may have been big up trucks with a confederate flag on them, but they always seemed to work. Good ‘ol boys work on their own rides.

Shortly after I realized that I had made a hideous error in judgement, and halfway through a conversation that was going nowhere (and he didn’t seem to mind which concerned me in itself), I tried to hurry things up.

ME: So, you wanted to go out this weekend?
HE: Yeah, I just need to figure out how to come and get you.
ME: Well, what are your options?
HE: Huh?
ME: Do you have a car?
HE: Nope. I have a scooter.
ME: That wouldn’t be good to ride all the way to Macon on…would it?
HE: Naw…it wouldn’t.
That’s about when I finessed my way off of the phone and laughed and laughed and laughed. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. I laughed all of my mascara off. I pictured the headline, “50 year old woman injured in scooter accident on Interstate 75 between Atlanta and Macon while on date with much younger man.” Yeah, at my age it’s best to avoid doing things that you wouldn’t want to drop dead doing. I last felt like that on Christmas Eve when I was in that Alabama Casino. That’s not so long ago so I best not take any chances again this soon.

 

OK…so enough of that. I had this post planned out just perfectly but that phone call knocked me off track. I planned a segue into the story about a doctor who’s tramp of a wife screwed her physical therapist AFTER he gave her a kidney. Now he wants it back. He’ll take 1.5 million for it if she wants to keep it. I believe he could just go get it himself if he wanted to, after all, he is a surgeon. I think that’s the one thing that would be worse than what my shady ex did. I have to say, my hat is off to Dr. Richard Batista. He is one victim extrordinaire.

Dawnell Batista, Long Island’s most short sighted and selfish wife, like other evil, evil women, is doing her best to simply avoid the situation which means she won’t even let him see his kids according to Dr. Batista who also says, “I saved her life and then to be betrayed like this is unfathomable. It’s incomprehensible.”

Yep. It’s all that and a bag of chips, dude.

Just remember that donor kidneys don’t last very long so maybe you can have it back when she croaks. Rest assured that a man who would screw a married woman will definitely not stick around for 3 dialysis treatments a week. I have no idea when karma will grant me the retribution that I seek, I just know that it will. You know that you’re yucks will most likely come in YOUR lifetime. Heck, you may end up raising your kids before it’s all said and done. Imagine what that knowledge is doing to her? I’d say you should sit back and let her implode upon herself. That type always does.

Well, now I’m all a dither after my close encounter with an indigenous Georgian. I must be going now so that I can laugh some more.

Ciao.

OK, I had to come back and tell you that the Indigenous Georgian has already called me back after a half an hour. I don’t know what the hell he wanted but apparently he’ll call me back at 12 and when he gets home from work. I had a bad feeling when the phone rang, but I thought it was just a bill collector. If I had known how bad it would be, I never would have answered that damn phone. I have to get a phone with Caller ID…SOON.

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Responses

  1. Believe it or not, our cats act the same way as your dog when we get back from vacation. They’re definitely smarter than we give them credit for.

  2. Really? Go Figure. How long will it go on? A cat is one thing, a 110 pound dog is another pain in the ass all together!


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