Mourning the Booty Call….

For the love of God, it’s like men can’t get out of their own way.  I’m a tad pissed off.

I thought I had struck a perfectly good arrangement re booty calls with Mr. Stole the Book.  Apparently that is not 100% the case.  I am either too stupid to be interacting with men, or he is just stunned.

I called a couple of nights this week, around the midnight hour, looking for a booty call.  I’m pretty sure that’s kind of the hour you would be looking for it????  He got completely cranky with me for the late hour and waking him up.  (Or so he said, pure speculation on my part as to what he was actually doing).

So, Mr. Stole the Book comes over for supper tonight.  He’s on his way to Toronto to hang out with his brother and niece so he can think about things.  He loves me, but he’s confused.  I seriously cannot stand this type of drama and it makes my vagina shrivel up.  I told him that we were done.  I’m actually too smart of a person to be wrapped up in his dramatic world.  He is so stunned it’s actually quite remarkable. KMS, you are so right that I can do better than this.  Anyone must be better than this intellectually.

I’m really, really happy the last time we had sex was so amazing, but holy shit I cannot be involved in this type of crap.

So, good-bye Mr. Stole the Book, and thanks for all the great sex.  I will miss you, but quickly replace you.

Love,

You will never, ever have another woman as exciting as me

xoxoxo

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