It's Pronounced Du-mass
So this Saturday should alternatively be titled "How much can straight men piss of Bunni in one day?" I was already fairly pissy about not having costume parties to go to despite having an AMAZINGLY great costume, when I got a voicemail from this guy I met once to come and talk to King Lear.

So I went. Like a schmuck.

I'm not going to go into details, but I'm going to say this much-any man who on our second encounter is already complaining about how cold I am-whining little bitch who doesn't deserve my attention. I'm distant for a VERY good reason-which is you have to EARN my affection it is not an on demand deal. I am not cable. You do not order me, nor do you try to emotional blackmail me into being a "nice person" by saying things like "Ya, this side of you is really not attractive."

As we used to say in voice class, "How dare you" show up late and start telling me that I'm unattractive. Oh and then drop that you've done research about me online with lines like "You don't know what you're students say about you." Not to mention that if you REALLY did research you would know that I was using you to put the married man in his proper place in the spectrum.

And, incidentally, My students TOLD ME about the Rate my Professor tab they started about me. They also told me about the Facebook page they started in my honor. And it's fairly insulting to think I wouldn't google myself ona regular basis to see what people are saying about me.

So after an hour and a half of this moron not being able to follow simple directives like "Leave me alone" I did what I have never EVER done before. Not even to the guy who asked me to dress up like a thirteen year old girl and pretend to be raped by him.

I walked out.

And then the married guy who panhandled for an invite to the E XXX orcist premiere party called me a half an hour before we were supposed to meet to cancel. So I decided not to go to the party.

Thankfully later that night my friend Notorious BIG asked me out to dinner. He's old skool and so it's a proper dinner out with wine and good conversation. The conversation ranges from Pompeii to disabled children to a thoughtful analysis to Eric Larsen's A Nation Gone Blind. So of course I would met the perfect man and he would be old enough to be my father. And he would have issues with how young I am. I don't have issues with ages. I don't have issues like that. It's so rare I met someone who just lights me up like that I wouldn't let age bother me. Can you believe it young beautiful WILLING girl-and the older man he just won't bite.

But if anything in my life were easy. Well, it wouldn't be MY life then would it?

Well, I would go on, but Prufrock is here. He is the one who not only saved my computer meltdown and got my wireless fixed, but also explained the origin of the word "internets" and informed that Bush recently referred to using "the google."

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