First it is too god damned early. Thirdly, I am prepared to stab myself in the earholes if i have to sit through another syrupy sweet love song on the fucking radio. We get it. Alright? We fucking get it. She walked in and the room lit up and everyone fucking stopped moving as you made eye contact across the smoky bar. Hoo fucking Rah. Is it the death of songwriting as an art form? Most of the fucking country is trying figure out dick and profile pics, not listen to you pour your vapid soul out on the airwaves. Eat a bag of dicks Bruno Mars, you three foot tall Hawaiian elf.

 

And Hawaiian is an ugly, vowel mottled word. It does not even look like a real word. More like proof aliens came long ago and enjoyed papayas and pineapples 2017 years ago when the flat earth was formed lovingly.

 

Anyway.

 

So I tried to sleep last night. I did. I am so fucking tired all the time. As I drifted off the phone buzzed and of course, it was work. After that I was wide awake and wired. So I picked up my phone and saw messages. Why not check.

 

Famous last words.

 

This time it was different. This time it was a guy.

 

Well then.

 

This should be interesting. He came in with a pick up line. I deflected. He came back again. I thanked him for the interest. He thanked me for being cute. Oh flattery you fickle little bitch. I asked if he saw the part of my profile that said straight looking for woman. He said straight is just an option. I agreed but carefully stressed it was the option I chose.

 

Then came the dick pic.

 

Ummm. Framing and exposure was well done. This guy was talented. I considered asking what he could do for my game. I did not though. I thanked him again and said no thank you. The onslaught of dick pics and sexual images became dizzying. He peppered in that I was homophobic. Or that if I came out he would show me a whole new level of pleasure. I blocked him.

 

No means no. Not the Canadian punk band. I understood what women go through. In a way. Don’t take that to think i understand what the average woman goes through on a daily basis. I do not. I saw a sliver. I got catcalled from the construction site one time. But that sure did feel uncomfortable.

 

But he knew how to take a photo. We will always have that. And in the end, that is important.

 

Fuck you Bruno Mars. With that guy’s penis.