Ex's for Sexes...ish.

So I had planned my Friday out to a tee. (what the hell is a tee when planning?). Yes, I ordered Pizza Luce and resigned myself to my beer and the Nanny*. As I was sipping my beer and smoking my p-funk, I get a phone call from my ex-boyfriend that recently moved to NY. See, we are friends now, ever since he dated my roomie and basically moved in. Not basically, he really did move in, just didn't pay rent. However, he made scrambled eggs and woke me up with breakfast in bed many times. (Doesn't excuse the free rent).



Anyhow, he calls me, wasted...to say hi from Brooklyn. I thought that was a nice thing to do, and so my night continued with a smile and played out sitcoms and pizza...until...



THE OTHER EX! duh duh dunnnnn...



Apparently he is wasted as well. (how exactly do my ex's get such a social life you ask? I gave it to them, and they stole it) Here goes the convo:


him: "Jussss one kestin."


me: "what?"



him:"Did you ever think I was sessually attractive?"


me:"No, I was in it for the money."


him:"Serrrrioussssly."


me:"Duh, I was."


him:"K. I juss had bad week and need some reassssssurance."


me:"why the bad week?"


him:"I don wanna tak bout it."


me:"Right, that's why you called me."



Thus began the hour conversation that went no where. Eventually he started to cry and asked me to come over to "snuggle". What the hell is that? Snuggle. Huh. Bullshit. So after accusing me of about 45672645348957 different things that never happened, he finally settled for dinner on Sunday and probably won't actually show up (thank God). Then he passed out. He's so lonely and only has me as a friend... Boo fucking Hoo. Should've made your bed instead of sleeping w/ multiple girls in it and maybe we would be friends. So anyhow...that was my Friday.


My left shoulder hurts. My work shoe is still broken. It's a lovely day, which means that I will have approximately 32 smoke breaks at work and debate escaping in such a way only those that have seen The Stand could understand.



Oh...I forgot the best part. On my way home from work, my old friend/crush (not the floppy haired one, the one with muscles and lung capacity to ride a bike) called me to see if I wanted to hang out after we get off work today. I said yes. Duh. He is super cute and, well, actually a nice guy. Haven't had that in a while. I suppose my standards have gotten a little low:

1. Breathing
2. Not killer/rapist
3. Has legs (negotiable)
4. Tells me I'm cute

This one has a job! Hooray!

I'm pretty excited, and this is why:

Straw orgie: more action than I've seen in a while.

I'll prolly post again, since I'm super bored at work and have no life. Wait, I might be getting one soon. Stand by.

*Yes, the Nanny. I'm getting old.