Former Loves Before Fucktard

I am alone and Fucktard is not here.  I mentioned writing about the other men in my life.  There were lots of them, and I immensely enjoyed my college days because of so many of them -- who took away my lonesomeness after I broke off with my very first boyfriend of two years...

This list is not in the order these guys came into my life:

There was D, of course, the object of my refreshing dream  -- and whose profile I recently saw on Facebook.

And there was F, who is now a high-ranking politician in this province up North. This guy is another great guy, and one great guy he will be, until the end.  We didn't become lovers, but we often dated.  Just like that.  He played the drums, and he liked jazz, we had so many things in common, and music was one thing that linked us together.  Unfortunately that time, we both didn't want to be involved with anyone just yet. We liked each other very much, but for some reason, the "mutual" relationship, whatever or however one could term it, died a natural death.  This guy is also in, -- you guessed it right, -- Facebook.

J belonged to a then-popular dance group composed of 3 guys, and we also dated, but he is practically in show business, and I didn't like the idea of exposing and sharing my love life with the public.  So we remained friends, and eventually, he disappeared just like that.

I went out with boys but managed to preserve myself until I married Fucktard.  Looking back, I should have played along, and strung out these guys like pearls.  Just like what most of my girl friends did in college.

I drove my own car and didn't ride with my dates.  How prudish I was, you see!  I think I managed to ride with D when we dated.  But that was it, and all I could remember. Or my parents had a driver drive for me, and a nanny who went along with me even at school...

To this day, my high school buddies and I often meet every month or so, just to eat, chat, and be merry.  We often end up talking about old or lost loves, or how our choices in the past could have altered the present...

There was another J whom I dated, and he too was in show business.  But the guy was torn between me and a former love, so I junked him.  It wouldn't be so if his former didn't pester me on the phone, crying that she needed him.  I hate soap operas. (And just like the soap opera that he starred in, he lived a life like so.)

T was a spinner and disc jockey, and I resented the fact that I was much taller than he was.  He was a  super slob too and wanted to get in my pants after only a few weeks of getting to know each other.  This animal masturbated right in front of me when I refused to go to bed with him.  What a major ass this guy was.  Looking back, I'm just thankful he did just that than force himself on me.  What he did in front of me instantly devirginized my eyes, and earned him the title of royal slob.  What a major creep.  Saw him in ubiquitous FB, and he looks like a loser now.  Poor guy.  But what he lacked in height, he makes up for penis circumference and all, hahahah!  I remember how he jacked off in front of me -- he looked silly, and I felt like I wanted to puke while I watched.  I think T should earn himself a separate entry in this blog.

R had the deepest, soothing voice ever.  I believe I played around with this poor guy's heart.  I found him boring as ever, and I hated the way he dressed up like an office worker when we went out.  I thought he could fit in my type, but I was wrong.  There wasn't anything we could talk about, and my interests were not his interests.  He could not supply anything about the books I read, or the dogs I loved, and I think he did not even read the articles that I wrote in the magazine I was working for.

A was Chinese, (a bit like me) -- but also a lot older than I was.  I thought we'd end up together, but just the same, I grew tired of him.  HE HAD HAS A SMALL TINY PENIS.  I just know.  Okay, so who wants to have a boy toy with an itty-bitty penis?

More random posts next time...

Random Thoughts

When I started exchanging letters with D, I kept a copy of what I sent to the US, and of course, kept what he wrote back to me too. 

Once again I regret that I had to throw all those letters when I was about to be wed to Fucktard.  Damn it!!!  Those letters would have come in handy during times like these -- that I feel so ugh!

When I wrote that post about D a few weeks ago, I was thinking, he should not read what I wrote (or intend to write).  But to hell, I now do not care at all even if he reads this entire blog.  Or anyone for that matter.  As long as I remain faceless, then that would suffice.

I like that I can write anything that comes up in my brain, whether senseless things outpour, and my entries deviate from what is supposed to be written -- like how I hate to be jailed in this fucking relationship...

I am one smart ass, and I end up, with this freak of a husband.  He is soooo insensitive, I tell ya.  Imagine, I worked hard to get fabulous grades in college, became quite a popular figure in campus while writing articles for a teen magazine, was given a column of my own, wrote for other magazines after that, even wrote for the University paper, graduated cum laude, took up master's, taught in the academe, and all I get is this SHIT!

Okay, I ended up marrying a guy who comes from a family of educators, and culinary enthusiasts.  But to me, they are all brainless shits because they don't even get it that they are such a wise-crack family, and I wanna get the hell out of their family tree.

This entry is so wayward, my mind is racing from all angles, and I just could not get what I truly want to write about.  I just want to write.

Oh please, world, talk to me.  Where are the ladies who wrote me a few months or weeks ago, telling me about how shitty their husbands are too???  Email back, girls!

I feel like I want to join the lonely hearts club.

In Facebook, I want to kill all those wives who whore their husbands in their accounts.

I hate it when people post stuff like, "Coffee with my sweetest hubby!"

Or, "Happy Anniversary, Honey!  I thank the heavens for you!" 

Ermagherd, if "Like" buttons could only be bomb buttons, I would gladly push them in one entire day.