and yet again

OK so due to finals I have no kept up with my blogging as I should. So to catch all three of my readers up thus far I have spoken at length to the whiny guy from the Bronx who thinks his two inch penis is somehow going to pummel the dainty damsel that is me. Hey mister ur creepy and you need to go lay down and think about sending ur tiny meat (shmeat) pics around, ur gross and i don't wanna!
Then we have the real date with a sweatshirt wearing know it all. I met him at a Starbucks on a chilly November eve. He was pretentious and I kinda liked it. Unfortunately we apparently agreed on to much or something so he had to never speak to me again. Oh well so be it. He is here because I feel that I need to be bluntly honest about when I am not somebody's cup of double shot, half caf, mocha, whip, supreme, extra Cinnamon, hold the coffee.
So then we move onto senior Suffern. So my policy on sex is that there isn't any until I have ur fully certified pedigree papers saying you will not be leaving more than what is expected. So senior Suffern knew this going in and after many lengthy and I mean lengthy emails. Dude was an aspiring writer, so he practiced in his email, citing that he is very particular about how his writing looks hence why her refuses to text. Cuz instant communication should have grammar check or something.
So senior Suffern calls a few times and we talk at length about everything from political views to messy houses to bed bugs and how skeevy they are. After our bed bug convo we have decided that those who skeev together should at least do lunch. So we plan to meet a week and a half later and I was told to expect a phone call that weekend. The phone call never came so I did the gentlemanly thing and sent a one line e-mail making sure my aspiring scribe was alive. He was, apparently he had done some thinking and decided that the distance was too far to be traversed without the guarantee of nooky. And for all of you who may be reading this nooky is code for sex or as my vernacularly enhanced friend put it "romantic compatibility". He meant sex, shagging, boning, riding the one eyed monster, you get the idea. Fine deal, go touch urself, trust me nobody's looking.
So then I started talking to this other guy. He was sweet, kind understanding, well educated, kinda cute, goal oriented I mean he was almost to good to be true. We talked every night for two weeks for hours at a time. We had a great time talking so the next step is to meet. So I, like every predator fearing single sexy ass female (lol) leave his information for my sister this way should I turn up dead they know who to arrest. So while I am out on my date she googles him. She finds everything that he told me was true he was a god fearing christian. A good man, and in a relationship, thank you Facebook!
Yup my chocolate knight in shining tin foil melted into the icy chill of the night. He denied it and denied it but fortunately I got home before him and did a little sniffing, and boy oh boy did he stink. Turns out that wasn't chocolate at all but a big old pile of s**t.
Alas I am off to troll some more swearing there has to be a least one good chubby chaser left in the world. And if not well at least I wasn't deterred.
Oh P.S. my chocolate Knight just texted me to tell me what a wonderful time he had and he wished me a good night, I wished him and his chick a good life lmao. I just hope she knows what she has on her hands, cuz it ain't chocolate.