nerd pr0n and associated aftermath

Nerd porn or no?: a stringy blond haired woman in a thong with a sledgehammer beating the shit out of a radio, and the barstool the radio's propped up on. I say yes. And i say, get me out the guy's house that has this on his web history.

(I forgot to mention porn guy. We started hanging out in the last month or so. He's the typical Silicon Valley computer programmer, button downs and tennis shoes preppy Princeton graduate with something seriously lacking with his interpersonal skills although he begs to differ. Anyway. I found this intriguing for some asinine reason, and when we hung out one afternoon, it turned into coffee and jazz and dinner and art gallery openings and bars and innocent sleepovers and then getting wasted at an unlimited alcohol brunch event. Turns out he's a complete sex freak, and he has a girlfriend on the East Coast that he's looking to cheat on. With multiple women. I quickly removed myself from that situation, but I'm a little bitter about the whole thing and how it went down.)

So of course the one person in this HUGE city that I least wanted to see last night, showed up at the venue and found me sitting in a dark corner of the upstairs bar. Yes, I'm speaking of porn guy. Of course. And so, now I know. There is no mercy in the universe. Although I wouldn't have said no had he bought me a drink as a peace offering, but he comes up to be like we're old friends! No, buddy, that's not how it is. Get a clue. People are so odd... like nothing happened!! Ugh!!

Speaking of no mercy, the hot Aussie I met whilst trying to escape porn guy hovering around me with his friend ("hey, can we hang with you?" to which I answered, "It's a free country, dude," and he said "WHAT? FREE CONCERT? YEAH!" idiot).

Do Australians kiss on the cheek to say goodbye? Because he was a cheek kisser. And he was so damn tall that when I tried to kiss him back, I got his neck. Mmm, neck kisses. Pounding electronica.

No emails or phone calls the next day. And the Aussie on a plane back to Australia, Land Of Hot Men and Kangaroos. Typical of me to meet the "perfect" guy, who just happens to live in another hemisphere (and apparently doesn't use email like he promised). How typical. Ho hum. Back to the same old grind. I am badly in need of another girl's night out....

cheesy movies on a sunday afternoon

I've read and seen some interesting things... such as: "You had a guy talking, and you let him escape? Was it in full sentences or just grunting?"

"An emotional man who likes to talk? This is a mystical figure!"

I've also heard the worst pickup line in the world this week: "So do you think that guy over there would go home with me?" to which I asked, "Is he gay?" It was a very confusing, weird place to be in, this headspace with this possibly gay man who I think is hitting on me, or...? It was really weird. Worst pickup line ever.

how to be a shitty houseguest

Here are some basic tips: 1. Be respectful. No trying to sleep with your platonic host; men especially should abide by this rule! It's really sketch to have someone come over with only one thing in mind. Ew! Creepy!

2. Don't track mud onto new, white carpet! That's just common sense. What sort of dirty, dirty boy... ?! I nearly had a heart attach. Dirt, boys... bad for the heart!!

3. Don't jerk off in your host's shower. It's gross. Especially when they need to get you out of their house because they're late to work. When it's been 10 minutes and they start saying, "OH GOD OHGOD," it's never a good sign. It means either they've tracked mud all over the bathroom tile also, or they're splooging all over your shower curtain :/

I don't think I'll be hosting for awhile. What an awful experience. I'm still reeling.