Women turn Men into Bastards.

Am I rite or am I rite?
Tonight I was a total bastard to someone because of a woman.

A woman who (referencing another thread I just saw) has dressed provocatively lately… Intoxicating in appearance and perfume (to me anyway). I could not help but stare longingly at her when she was not looking… and enjoy every nano-second she stood a little too close to me.

Oh folks I’m in deep.

Her dress was black skin tight pants, black blazer, pale ‘thing’ under the blazer which displayed the perfect amount of cleavage. In the six months I’ve known her I have never seen a more incredible sight.

How did the woman force you to be a bastard.

Men are already bastards, women just bring it out!

(I kid, I kid… just trying to humor the guy)

She set me up to pretend to send a text message to the wrong person. The text message indicated my dislike for said person.

She wrote the message on my phone… but handed it to me to correct some random mistake… only rather than correct the mistake I sent the message

So wait…

Were you supposed to send the message or not? She wanted to pretend that she was writing someone a text on your phone saying that they didn’t like the recipient? But for whose benefit? I don’t really understand the situation. But anyway, she sounds hot… You should hit that.

Did you ever see the movie “Vanilla Sky” with Tom Cruise and Penelope Cruz? Your “Gal-wimmon love of this decade” may be a “Pleasure Delayer” like in the movie.

(I am a speller delayer f-upper) (If you only knew how many times I had to delete and re-write this, courtesy of Robert Mondavi) (hic)

But Lobsang, I’ve read most of your posts in the last 3 months, please do the “GO FOR THE LIFETIME DO OR DIE THING ALREADY”.

please don’t be anti-climactic, not to put any pressure on ya dude

Chaldean? Maronite? Gothic? Roman? Greek?

A little help, here. Give us a clue which rite you are supposed to be (or not be).

I don’t know about “bastards”, but after extensive research, I’ve finally established what makes men mean: The letter ‘a’

Scottish. He’s going around wearing a fez and making balloon animals for kids in line at Sizzler.
(Is Sizzler still in business?)

She wrote a message on my phone because she wanted to do the wording… the idea was that it would be a message I wrote to send to some random person. And that I would pretend to have sent it to the wrong person, the person I dislike.

But then she handed it back to me unsent because she made an error and didn’t know how to fix it.

In the prosess of triyng to fix it I clicked ‘send’ by mistake. So the pretend message-to-the-wrong-person which I did not intend to actually send got accidentally sent.
And then I went and told him what I and everyone thinks of him. In person.

I broke the guy’s heart. He’s here now.

Yeah, but they don’t have to work very hard at it.

Sorry, I don’t see how it’s anyone’s responsibility but your own that you were a bastard.

Mate, I’ll assume you are being slightly tongue in cheek about this, but really. take responsibility for your own actions (even, yes even if they have been led my your mini-me).

No. If I understand this story, and I’m not sure I do, she didn’t make you a bastard. You can’t blame her for bad decisions you made.

And this is your excuse?

I speak for the women of the world when I say - sorry, but there’s not a chance in hell we’re taking responsibility for that. :stuck_out_tongue:

Ok, so how did the text message make you do that?

Because I needed a way to make him find out I don’t like him.
He thought I was a mate. I got carried away and drawn into a shouting match in which I told him what his problems were and what everyone thought of him.


Now if you had instead posted that strong drink makes men *and * women bastards, then you’d have something there… Of course, a lot of us wouldn’t get nookie without it, so there’s that, too.

It is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma inside a burrito.

Alcohol: Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.

She’s been texting me all day about it. Reassuring me. Telling me It all needed to be said.

I am intrigued by this ‘pleasure delayer’ theory of which someone spoke.

P.s. in my paranoid state I am now of the opinion she has designs on the boss.

p.s. I think I went some way towards making amends with the guy. I still dislike him but I thought about it the night before … and realized he’s only a total ass when he’s with her (the woman of the picture) when he’s on his own (which is rare) he’s tolerable.

He’s in the same boat as me… granted he and I could not be more different… He’s not someone I want to be sat alone in a small boat with… but he’s a human being… and outside the influence of females I can tolerate pretty much anything… or at least have enough strenght of mind to keep my trap shut about what pisses me off.