Friday, November 01, 2013

Halloweenie Surprise

I am starting to believe that God or the universe or maybe even the Flying Spaghetti Monster has put me in my new employer for a specific purpose. To listen to and give advice on the relationships of all the twenty and thirty somethings I work with. They all tell me their problems and usually I have something to say on that particular subject.

It's puzzling to me why so many great young ladies are putting up with scads of bad behavior in relationships. Has the world changed so much that immature and dysfunction is the new norm?

It all started with the little twerking girl when she started talking about how her steady guy kept forgetting his wallet every time they went to eat or to the movies. She would end up paying and he never paid her back. Top that off with him constantly texting on his cell during their dates and it was pretty clear this guy was a creeper, not a keeper.

Janey and I have given out hours of advice to Twerker, telling her she should drop him like the user and loser he was. Twerker did and I had to laugh when I saw how she did it, via a text message. Ha. This modern world we live in.

Yeah, yeah, so I know none of this is professional appropriate business behavior but if you're stuck in a stuffy office for hours on end endlessly auditing medical paperwork you have to entertain yourself somehow.

We've talked to her about respecting herself, not sleeping with every idiot at AA that possesses a penis, not responding to every guy that flirts with her, but I'm not sure it's not falling on deaf ears. This week's crisis was her rushing in asking for a tutorial on how to give a blow job. I had to ask the why of course, she said she'd met this guy that looked like Ryan Gosling and she had to make him fall in love with her this weekend and since her period would not end she was going to have to give him blow jobs till he fell in love with her.

Why this weekend? Apparently his baby momma is moving to town next week and Twerky wants him to be hers, all hers, with nothing to do with his offspring and baby momma. I sighed, slapped myself in the forehead and started to tell her why he wasn't worth having in the first place and that magical blow jobs don't always make a man fall in love with you. He's not special enough for special favors and it's way too quick to be handing out sexual favors. Respect yourself and make him work to get you, not the other way around.

She still wanted to know the goods on blow jobs and frankly, I was sort of shocked that she'd admitting to sleeping with over 500 guys and no oral sex was involved. This isn't the fifties.

My advice: "Your mouth is there, his junk is there, there's no really right or wrong way to do it."
Janey: "Don't bite his penis"

Speaking of biting something yesterday I bit the pavement. Tripped on the broken asphalt in the employee parking lot and ended up with a broken wrist, the other wrist sprained along with an elbow and assorted bruised, scraped, bleeding and hurting parts. I missed my beloved Trick or Treat and spent the evening in the hospital ER. At least I got good drugs out of it. Gonna need them to hear the latest romance problems of the young and foolish.

Next week my task is to work more on Twerky and pals, but particularly Twerky, to realize you don't have to shell out sex to guys you just meet. Specially if you're looking for the long term.

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