I know a few men who will see me on Facebook offhandedly saying I don’t understand something and then JUMP to explain it to me in my DMs, 1) as if I don’t have Google, and 2) as if I care.
I don’t need to understand everything, especially sports. I do not care how the Eagles won the game last night. And no one is rewarding me with orgasms or snacks for pretending I care, soooo I’m not gonna. Run along.
My therapist compared letting assholes get to me with the cops greasing the light poles in Philly after the Eagles won the Super Bowl so dipshits couldn’t climb them: “How do we make it so assholes’ comments slide off you a little easier?”
I tried to convince her that’s what I’m doing with all the mozzarella sticks and stromboli — greasing my psyche — but I don’t think she bought it.
I MAY have been OkCupid ghosted because I told the guy I didn’t watch the Eagles playoff game last weekend.
Which, you know…that’s fine. Enjoy waiting for the Eagles to wet your dick.
Email from Male BFF:
“I work in the Pope Zone and the office will be closed Friday. But they’re sealing the mailbox in the building TODAY. If something happens to me, make sure the world knows I loved my family, the Eagles, and ass play.”
Smug Singleton 