“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ’cause you’re not. Baby when I know you’re only sorry you got caught.”- Rihanna, Take A Bow.
This next guy I can thank for his contributions to my Dumb Shit Guys Say post (#1 and #3). Our relationship started out like most of my relationships: I was hooking up with a few of his friends and he wanted a piece of my sweet cherry pie.
The only thing that kept us \wedged/ apart was his girlfriend who hated me, (but I’m like 90% she reads my blog, so I win!). Tara and I had the same
taste in men frat boys’ fluids on our breath. I knew how territorial she was about guys- since in the past we had shared so many others.
They were always together (vomm) like white undies and a skidmark. But in the brief moments she would excuse herself to tinkle, or perhaps bend down to tie her shoes- Blake squeezed in opportunities to
flirt with me eye-fuck the shit out of me.
Anywho, I should have etched Blake off my “call him when he’s vulnerable after the break-up” list with his shady flirting. But I didn’t, because I have 6 cells in my brain, and he had a 6-pack of beautiful abs. Oh Lowdy!
So when Tara went
abroad on summer vacation, (I think they broke-up, but now I’m not even sure) Blake saw his Chapman window of opportunity and pounced. Guys don’t waste anytime, they may be on-again-off-again with you. But they’re always ‘on’ somebody else.
Blake and I had a really great time: jacuzzi, wine, Nickelodeon, bar hopping, and the occasional convo about how psycho Tara is.
When Tara came back, he told me how hard it is avoid her, Ella she’s so psycho. Ella she only thinks she’s my girlfriend. Ella I wish she was more like you …yada yada yada.
But of course, they were together, or at least hooking up. She took him to her formal, and he was in her profile pic. I mean nothing says serious like a prof pic. And that’s all it took. I stopped
talking to playing doctor with him: my parting words were “I have eyes and ears everywhere,” because I effing do.
It always amazes me how guys think they can keep their secrets, shenanigans, and charades up. And they will deny, deny, deny til they die.
I mean, you can’t even remember my birthday, the most glorious of days. How do you really expect to keep all your lies aligned and all your hookers apart? If that CIA director dude can get caught, so will you.
I suppose there are four morals to this story:
- 1. Behind every batshitcrazy, psycho girlfriend is a man that made her that way.
- 2. If you think he’s cheating, he probably is. And if you wait long enough, maybe his mistress will post a blog to confirm your concerns.
- 3. Seriously I have eyes and ears everywhere, people!
- 4. The truth always comes out. Why? Re-read number three.