The other week I was sat in a small office talking to my psychiatrist. This
shrink is not to be confused with my sleep therapist, that is a totally
different person altogether. Yes, I've obviously lost the plot on so many
levels that one institution just isn't enough.
"Mark," she said, for people don't call me Shavixmir in daily life, "one of
your problems is your excessive sexual behaviour."
"Are you calling me a slut?" I asked.
"Well....yes...." She replied.
Now, it's not quite fair to say that my sexual behaviour is excessive,
because most of my behaviour is. Boundaries and borders are seemingly not my cup of tea, and if they were, then it would be two buckets of tea and not just a cup.
So Friday evening I get an e-mail from one of my lovers. It read: "Of course I'm not ignoring you. It's just...I'm in love."
Well. My first reaction was: "See, she wasn't ignoring me, because she loves me." I mean...how can someone not love me?
It wasn't until I'd been to do poo poo's that I analysed the situation. This was her first mail to me in 2 weeks...she had been ignoring me. It dawned on me that she was obviously in love with someone else.
It hurts to be dumped. It hurts even more when you are obviously being
dumped for some lesser mortal. But in the wise words of Eeor the donkey: "Oh well..."
So Saturday I get an e-mail from another lover. She is by far the prettiest looking lover I've ever had. Young, fit, good looking and... well,
physically perfect.
Not only that, but she loves the same films as I, loves the same music, has the same favourite book as me, the same sense of humour and she loves Seinfeld.
She, to be quite blunt, is the perfect female version of me.
The e-mail read: "Mark, I'm stopping our relationship because we're too much alike. It could never work."
What's with all this dumping per e-mail nowadays? Why don't people meet up with you and just tell you to your face that it's over. Cowardice! That's what it is.
I've been dumped in all sorts of fashions:
One time, when I was a young unemployed writer, my girlfriend moved to the South of France for a summer job.
“Mark…” she begged me, “Mark…please come down and visit me.”
“But,” I would reply over the phone, “I’m unemployed, the South of France is hellishly far and Dante-ishly expensive!”
“Please…” she would sob, “Come down and visit me…”
Eventually my spine snapped and I took a train down to Montpellier, then a bus to God-knows-where and then I had to walk a little and thumb a little.
At one point I stopped at a motorway hotel and got myself a nice cold beer. It was as I was leaving the hotel grounds that I noticed the dog. The large dog, to be more precise. It was massive, it was growling, it was on its hind legs and the only thing restraining it was a rope tied to a metal fence. I distinctly remember thinking: “God…if that rope comes loose, I’ve had it.”
Fate was to bugger me more than once that week and sure as an attack on Iran is inevitable, the rope came loose and the dog chased, drooling and barking, after me.
A pick-up truck slowed down on the motorway so I could jump in. He probably realised that a fat bald person running along the motorway in 35 degrees heat with a full back-pack and the hell hound itself chasing him, was in need of help…
At the campsite where said lover was residing I was dumped on the second day, I was going to leave on the fourth day and I walked into her tent on the third and found her shagging some other guy.
One day another lover sat me on her bed and said: “You know I love you Mark, but you just don’t fit.” She ran off and joined a cult. Since then I’ve had a distinct dislike for all thing Steiner.
Another lover’s granddad found me stood on a bridge in Pforzheim in Germany, wiggling my penis at the passing cars (that’s Absinthe for you). She felt forced to dump me as well. Although, arguably, this could be considered my own fault…
So, Sunday I'm lying in bed with my married lover. She is a story upon
herself, but to cut things short, she's married, but fancies my pants off.
After our first afternoon of passion she phoned me to tell me that she'd
told her husband.
"What?" I sputtered, "What's happened to tradition? You're supposed to do these things behind your husband's back!"
There is no morality left on this planet!
It gets worse though. She invited me to go to the gay parade in Amsterdam with her and her husband.
I ended up declining. I just didn’t know what I was going to say to her husband.
“Hi…yeah…she grinds quite nicely, don’t you think?” I don’t think so.
So, I'm lying in bed with her and I’m complaining about all the women who have been dumping me that weekend.
"WHAT?" She screams. "YOU HAVE OTHER LOVERS!"
"You're married." I wittily reply.
"YOU HAVE OTHER LOVERS!"
"I use condoms." I lied.
What on earth is it with all this hypocrisy nowadays?
"YOU HAVE OTHER LOVERS???? GET OUT. GET OUT MY BED. GET OUT! GET OUT!"
"But darling," I replied, "It's my house and my bed...."
"GET OUT!"
I decided that it was probably best for both our healths if I did get out,
so I left my bedroom. But, I did stick my head back through the door:
"So...there's no chance of a shag then?"
I cannot write what her answer was.
Originally posted by CoconutI know, but now it's an abbreviated version for otherwise the tale would be too long for the average concentration upon this fair site...
You already posted one of those.
Edit: Althought it was better told that time. I, as your resident bookkeeper, will go dig it up
Originally posted by shavixmirslut 😛
The other week I was sat in a small office talking to my psychiatrist. This
shrink is not to be confused with my sleep therapist, that is a totally
different person altogether. Yes, I've obviously lost the plot on so many
levels that one institution just isn't enough.
"Mark," she said, for people don't call me Shavixmir in daily life, "one o ...[text shortened]... h the door:
"So...there's no chance of a shag then?"
I cannot write what her answer was.
The penis wiggling incident bothers me, as it happened kinda near me... *sigh* just promise me you won't go around masturbating at old ladies sitting in cafes when you come visit me, ok?
But I just loved the married one's reaction... that had me laughing my head off. But I have to say it again... slut.
And now, stop posting all these funny things. It's sad, really... I'm 3 days into school, it's 9:30 pm, I have homework and already I can't be bothered to fo it. But don't blame me, I got out of school at 5 pm today and we had PE and afterwards I went bowling... so really, I just haven't found the time. Honestly. I mean, obviously, playing chess against a friend in my free period is more important than german homework... don't you agree?
*Sigh* I'd better get going now though... no moves for tonight 🙁