The devil accepted my bargain when I started tearing down walls. In exchange for ridicule, I would achieve some miniscule level of stranger appreciation once my blogs went live. The habitual readers filed in just as expected, and shortly after them…the haters. If you are either of these, grab a beer, I want to thank you.

I’m new to blogging. I’m even more new to speaking to an audience. I used to write in the confines of my own Mead Composition Book: letters to people I hoped would never read it, lyrics of songs I was not even capable of putting notes to, stories about people who became far less important as the page numbers increased. But then, as my hands cramped and technology allowed me to put GIF’s to my erratic emotions, I found that blogging was a much better vehicle for me. I’ve posted five articles; one solid high five worth of topics and the backlash and praise is, to my dismay, unparalleled.

My blog is like my BMW, and all you assholes are just swinging your doors into my brand new paint job. To say that I don’t care would be a bald face lie, but to say that I do would essentially take away from the whole reason I write in the first place. I write about problems I have. These problems just so happen to be men. Why? because I, as a woman, haven’t completely given up on them…yet. The day I travel to the lighter side of lesbianism, I’ll be sure to crank out a blog about the Top Ten Reasons the Straight Pond is More Full. So for now, until the love of my life shows up on my co-ed softball team, I’m probably gonna channel my epic online disasters for blogging inspiration. And you’re probably going to call me an egotistical feminist. And I’m probably gonna think you need to shut the fuck up.

Haters are going to hate. They’re going to taunt me until they are blue in their face, coincidentally further transcending to their balls. I’ve got 99 problems and 100% of them are usually the same guys who bitch about me having problems with ‘someone they aren’t’. Really? Cause even if you were cool an hour ago, you’ve crushed any and all possibilities of me being semi-comfortable with you after calling me conceited for not wanting to date “you”. I put you in quotes because I don’t even tell these men I don’t want to date them, they psychoanalyze themselves and then take it out on me for their misinterpretations. I’ve never, in my entire adult life been rejected by a man and then called him cocky for not being interested. I don’t like bubble gum ice cream…doesn’t mean I think I’m too good for it. If I needed it to sustain life, I’d eat the crap out of that blue scoop of sugary shit. It’s just that if I have other options, I’m putting my money on Cookie’s n’ Cream.

I can deal with lots of levels of criticism. I’ve been on dates with men who flat out said “not interested” before dessert. Take it all with a grain of salt, ya know? But don’t be that person who has no basis for their remarks besides to be a stupid opinionated asshole. There are some people in this world who literally have nothing better to do. I could walk into a burning building and save a baby and there’s Negative Nicholas standing outside, shaking his head, telling me I’ve fucked with fate. While he’s reciting lines from Final Destination, I’m over here trying to SAVE A BABY FROM BURNING. Those are the types of people who reproduce like every god damn day too…because they think they know more than their own fucking reproductive system. The odd’s are never going to be in our favor. The idiot pond is a cease pool of opinions, only quieted by the sounds of themselves making more opinionated babies. I’m going to write in this blog forever, and I hope your arrogant grand children leave me comments about being less biased and speaking from both sides of the fence. Even though, that makes about as much sense to me as condoms do for you. Idiot.

Someone once told me that bad publicity is still publicity. The beauty of America is that I get to say whatever I want, and you get to respond accordingly. Although I think some people’s ‘suggestions’ for me are unhelpful and patronizing, I appreciate feed back in all forms. Seriously. If you think I’m a cunt, I’m super stoked to have evoked some kind of feelings within you to even care about my piss-poor attitude during you’re already chaotic day. With that said, keep the bullets coming as I develop a real voice within. Guest blogs are appreciated so that people don’t feel there are any gaps in the genre’s. Contact me if you think you have something to add to all the walls I’m tearing down about men and women. Or if you want to take me out for dessert, sans bubble gum ice cream.

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