I hate cowardly men. I can't stand it when a guy likes you, but is too scared to say anything about it. He hides behind anonymous flowers and cards in an ill attempt to woo me from afar. That pisses me off to no end. Just fucking tell me you've got the hots for me. I'll probably just shoot you down, but at least we'll both know where the hell we stand.I've received flowers three times in the past week. They were left on my doorstep with a note and everything. At first, I thought they were from Dick and was going to just toss them in the trash, but curiosity got the better of me and I read the notes.
The first note said "These are not from Dick. I hope you have a wonderful day." The second note said "I cannot stop thinking about you." And the third read "I know what you are going through, but just know that I am here."
What the fuck? Some stranger leaves me flowers to wish me a wonderful day and to let me know he's here for me? Um, I don't think so. I don't even know who the fuck it is, so how is he here for me? This has to be the most cowardly attempt to pick a chick up that I've ever seen (either that or Dick is playing more games).
I've since posted a note on my door that has already received a few chuckles from the postman and UPS delivery guy. It reads: To the sorry son of a bitch that has been cowardly leaving flowers on my doorstep without letting me know who you are, fuck off. I have no desire to meet a man with such little backbone. I have a thought, why don't you take those flowers, shove them up your ass, and come back when you've grown some balls.
I hate guessing games and yes, I'm a bitch. Have a wonderful day.
6 comments:
* that is "verve," not nerve. :)
Miss Suzie,
I am not Dick.
I am not the sorry son of a bitch that has been cowardly leaving flowers on you doorstep.
I will not f*** off.
I like your spunk. I enjoy your posts and wish you all the best.
On the other hand, if I weren't married, maybe I would be that guy. You really have a lot of verve.
Have a great day.
@Dennis: I have a lot of something, but not sure I'd call it nerve. I'm beginning to think I would benefit from a few therapy sessions. :)
It's not my fault! You never answer the door. Kidding of course, if they were flowers from your own yard maybe.
You need to set up a camera, catch that way you can catch all of the repairmen, and everything.
Punk ass pansy? When I first logged on your site just now, my mind read: Pink ass pansy! - and just as my imagination started to reel, I realized it was the word "punk".
Oh, my. Freud would have a fun day.
Deliver flowers? I have never "had delivered" anything. To anyone. If such occurred to me, it probably would have been a pizza. Probably "plain cheese" without knowing their taste or anything. Anyway, I thought such was only done in movies by Rock Hudson to Dorris Day.
If I was going to make a hit on a lady, I would wear a fedora, make sure I had a Ronson cigarette lighter and Camel cigarettes (no filters), and I would casually light 2 fags at once, then take one, while exhaling smoke into her face with the other, pass it to her, and say: "Here, Doll."
Now THAT took balls!
At fourteen I started practicing this move after seeing Humphrey Bogart do it repeatedly in his movies. It had much sexier appeal than riding a stick horse and pretending I was Roy Rogers - which I did up to age 10.
Never really got the move down, but I still dream of it.
@Derek: I like the camera idea. I may just have to do that. Maybe even post a video or two on my blog.
@Ralph: I can see you doing that with two cigs. Of course, I would gladly accept one and ride off into the sunset on your stick horse. :)
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