Take advice from fuckups.they're the only ones that can tell you about the bottom & how to avoid it


Friday, February 19, 2010

The Social Nightmare

I went out with my boyfriend to a tittie bar for my friend's birthday last weekend. I usually love me a good dose of tit-viewing, but the night didn't go as well as expected. As soon as I met my friends, I felt like they were all acting weird...one of them was being oddly too nice and complimentary, one seemed totally distracted, like a kid with severe ADD, and another seemed so uncomfortable and bored that she barely spoke to anyone. Mind you, before my boyfriend and I left out, we put down an entire fifth of rum, and I am known to go nutty when I drink clear liquor. We felt the need to drink heavily to "catch up" with the rest of the group that were obviously fucked up already, judging by the odd way they were all speaking on the phone.
After I go to the club, I became increasingly self-concious about my appearance. All of the strippers working that night were very thin, plus, it was a Friday night, so the place was pretty full, which means an overabundance of total DOUCHES were all around...It wasn't long before I started hating my boyfriend just for being there and having a penis. As the night drug on, my friends seemed to become increasingly distant toward me, so I started going up to the bar to purchase my drinks. I didn't want my boyfriend to give the half retarded waitress anymore money. I'd sooner fetch my own drinks...then...on the way to the bar I heard the statement that changed the course of the night, and the rest of the week...
I overheard a guy ask another guy "who was over in the booths", to which the other replied, "nobody important, a bunch of dogs and their boyfriends..." Instantly, after hearing this, my heart sank. I didn't even know if he was talking about us, but I wanted to turn around and break my fucking beer against one of these guys' heads...I was already feeling fat, useless, and ignored, and that was the straw that broke my back.
I went back to our section, and tried to sit down and drink my beer, but the sheer discomfort of everything was overwhelming me. The shitty music, my friends being shady, the population of dickhole heterosexual males, and, the crowd of naked stupid women with bad taste had taken its toll on my psyche, not to mention how fucking terribly depressed I already had been for the past couple of weeks. I felt the tears coming. I tried to fight them. I looked at my boyfriend, tearful, and said, "I wanna die. I wanna go home." He didn't understand what was coming, so him, being a fucking guy surrounded by tits, of course threw out the first thing he could think of to stall me. "Aren't you gonna tell your friends bye?" UGH. I was trying not to cry and make everyone awkward, thus ruining the night more than I felt I already had by my sheer drunken, stumbling presence. I tried to tell them bye the best I could, but I had to give up, I then just ran out of the place. I literally ran out. I didn't give a fuck if he followed me or not.
I started in on him as soon as he got into the truck, blubbering, screaming, crying. "YOU THINK I'M FAT!" "NO ONE WOULD TALK TO ME UNLESS WE WERE IN THE BATHROOM!!!" "I HATE MYSELF!" "I HATE MEN, I KNOW YOU AREN'T ATTRACTED TO ME, WHY DON'T YOU JUST DUMP ME?" "YOU'RE ONLY WITH ME COS I'LL FUCK YOU, YOU DON'T LOVE ME, YOU'RE JUST DESPERATE!" He had to literally shout at me to get me to shut the fuck up. We stopped and got some food, but i couldn't stop crying long enough to eat it. After we got inside at home, I ran to the bed, crying all the way there, and crying myself to sleep. I woke up at some point and went back into the living room and curled up next to him. Around 6am, we both woke up and went back to the bed only to discover that the sheets were wet..."Did you pee the bed?" "I don't think so..." I bent down and placed my face upon the wet spot. I sniffed it. I couldn't smell anything. I know I had a glass of tea in the bed with me earlier, but the glass was no where to be found. I really don't know if it was pee or not...and we just laid in it, anyway. After being awakened, I couldn't go back to sleep. I ended up getting up, totally suicidal, and with a ball of bitterness toward my friends in my gut. I got online, wrote a quick suicidal blog, and stumbled back to bed.


  1. Fuck those asshole dick-bag men. I hope they all wind up bald and fat. Bunch of douches.
    Consider the source, and try not to let it get you down. Substance is more important than cosmetic beauty anyway. You obviously have lots of substance and intelligence.

    Sending love, SB.