So you think it’s a good idea to call me at 2 something in the morning, yacking my ear off in some lame attempt to get me to like you, eh?. Good fucking job, you lunatic. I despise you greatly yet somehow think you’ll win me over by calling me at ungodly hours and irritating the snot out of me. Brilliant tactic. But this isn’t what really pisses me off about you. This is just the icing on the cake…
You started off okay. Really. You were nice, laughed at my corny jokes, big fan of The Simpsons. Good times. You were a good dude too until you found out I have a life outside of you. What’s with needing to know every single detail of my life? Must you become insanely jealous every time I even mention someone else’s name? The constant need to compare yourself to everyone I’m fond just to see how you measure up is quite unbecoming. That became rather annoying rather quickly. What’s even worse is the way you needed attention from me 23/7. I don’t have a lot of patience so I gave you the boot. But then some days later, you apologized for being an annoying little shit and everything was swell again. I even gave you a second chance, like the forgiving human being I aspire to be. What an optimist (read: idiot) I am. I agreed to go out on a date with you, and oh boy, what’d I go and do that for?
After one date, you think I’m your wife. Within three hours of leaving me at my place, you’re asking when we’re going out again. Whoa, boy, eager to see me, are we? That’s… almost cute, I suppose, but chill out. You just left me three hours ago and are already talking about seeing me the next day. I’m busy. What’s this? Well you want me to see me the day after that then. Holy blackout, kid. Relax. We’ll do something this weekend. But that eagerness to see me is okay. It’s a bit annoying, but some crazy people might even find that adorable. I, however, find the whole deal about you not letting me breathe for 3 hours a bit irritating. You’re not a complete asshole yet, though.
You really got annoying after you decided to bother me every single day. It’s not like we were having great conversation. It was more like I was having to defend myself every 3 seconds against your endless attacks. Do I not like you? Do I like so and so more than you? Bla bla bla. Look, you would have been a lot cooler had you just calmed down with all the defensive, insecure bullshit. I told you this and you kept at it. You still got all bent out of shape b/c I was apparently focusing more of my attention to some other guy than I was you. Newsflash, I’m not your girlfriend. Never was. Anyway, I’m not even interested in that guy romantically, I just get along with him really well. Yet you continyed to whine like there was no tomorrow, complaining about how much I ignored you. I swear, if I hear you say “stop ignoring me” one more time, I’m going to shoot myself in the face. Better yet, I’ll shoot you. “Please pay attention to me at all times b/c I’m spoiled little, bratty, obnoxious attention whore.” I think I heard that a good 5 trillion times out of you. Then you blabbed about how I focus too much of my time on Guy X. Well yeah, Guy X is funny. Sue me for liking people who make me laugh. Then, like an asshat you start whining about how great you are too. “But I’m also funny. That’s what all of my friends like about me. Seriously, if you’d pay more attention to me you’d realize this.” Eh? Now what kind of attention starved, melodramatic, 3rd grade bullshit is this? Give me a break, kid.
But no, it gets worse. You completely lost me when you turned into a sniveling little cunt after I cancelled our weekend get together. So very sorry, but my friends invited me out and I’d rather spend time with them. That wasn’t my wording, mind you. I was still trying to be nice at that point. I told your silly ass that some of my compadres were going to be performing in some shows and I really wanted to go. Rather than being understanding, rescheduling, then moving on with life, you proceeded to whine about how much you wanted to spend Saturday with me. T.S., kid. Your bitching isn’t going to change my mind. “But I reeeeeaaaaaaaally wanted to go out with you” is your response. So? Calm down, fuckwad. I’ll be here next weekend. But you kept whining. It never ends with you. It’s either Guy X, how little attention I pay you or my “last minute” rescheduling. The thing that kills me is the whining is non-fucking-stop. The cancelled date wasn’t last minute, by the way. I informed you on Wednesday that I wouldn’t be available for Saturday. I wanted to go out with friends, so so sorry, but you just couldn’t let it go! For about another 10 minutes, you went on and on. Good Christ, must you be such a cunt about it? NO. Absolutely not. DON’T ask again. I told you that and Oh, I know, it’s not fair that they get to see me and you don’t, but LIFE is not fair, you ass monkey! Stop pestering me.
Sure, you stopped asking, but laid on the guilt trip. You made with this big spiel about your craptacular dating life and how you’ve only been on six dates in your entire life (the word “date” being thrown around liberally here). I see. So was I supposed to pity you, oh dateless wonder, and cave? Realizing I wasn’t going to budge, you brought out the dramatics. As if I was supposed to give a lukewarm fuck, you suggested that maybe you should forget about me. I’ll bet you weren’t expecting me to shrug my shoulders and say okay, huh? Apparently not, b/c you sure did make with the frowning, telling me about how you framed your whole weekend around me. You like me a lot, bla bla bla. That’s sweet, really, but by this point, I don’t give a shit. You are seriously, the most annoying little bastard I have ever met in my entire life. I exaggerate not. The most annoying little shit ever. Was I supposed to be touched after your bit about how much you like me? After one date, telling me I’m the “most important thing” in your life isn’t touching. It’s scary. I couldn’t take you anymore. Frustrated, I told you in plain English to SHUT THE FUCK UP. I lost it. My cool was gone. You worked my damn nerves. I made it pretty damn clear that I was sick of dealing you, yet you insist on popping up again? Good Jiminy, I’ve TOLD you plain out to fuck off. No, I didn’t pussy foot around it. I told you I thought you were a bloody asshole and would appreciate it greatly if you were to enjoy a piping hot stein of shut-the-fuck-up tea. You still are trying to linger in my life?
:smack: How many different ways can I tell you to fuck off? Die! Leave me alone! You’re a psycho bastard, I hate you, die die die. No, annoying me telling me how much you want to be in my life is not going to work. Generally when someone tells you to shut the fuck up and go away, it’s a sign that you’re not liked. Say one more thing to me and I’ll cut you! You think I’m playing? Test me, you little bitch.
