Even the Socially Inept Have Found Love…



The title is kinder than what I really wanted to say. What I really wanted to say was that even moronic, dimwitted, provincial, vinegary beasts have found love. But obviously that would have been too long.

Maybe that’s a harsh thing to say but let’s be completely honest here. You have at one time or another, thought the very same thing when looking at a couple walking down the street. You might even think, why the hell are they with that person. Or you might see on Facebook that that guy who everyone wanted to punch in the balls has in fact gone and found a girl. And what’s more is that he’s gone and proposed! I know you are thinking WTF?! How the hell did that happen? How did that idiot bag himself someone? Someone who doesn’t seem to be held under duress, no glaze forming over her eyeballs with the use of drugs, no nothing. In fact they are smiling in every photo. Now, how in God’s good graces did he let this inept human being be happy and you are sitting at home on a Friday night drinking a whole bottle of wine to yourself while going over your whole character and eventually coming to the conclusion that the world has officially gone to shit or worse that you must be one ugly fat mother fucker. Now you know how I got down on my Friday night.

For the life of me, I can not understand it. And fucking Facebook has once again thrown this knowledge at me smacking me in my face every time I log on. I am constantly bombarded with relationship statuses. By the way, who still does that?! Yet another little addition on your news feed to make you even more aware that everyone else is doing swimmingly while you are sinking on a dingy somewhere out near the isles of loner-ville and suicide cove. I am bombarded with photos of weddings, of ‘life events’ which of course include proposals and showing off “The Ring”.

Now don’t get me wrong. I get the need to feel like you have to show people that you are doing great. I get the need that the nerd back in high school is not the nerd any more and wants to say a big fat fuck you to the assholes who made fun of him. That I understand. And in that respect Facebook can boost you up a little; making you feel like you have a platform. Because at the end of the day, people just want to be liked. But to torture an already tortured soul with idiots who actually made you want to create a voo doo doll of them and poke pins in it,  who are now being allowed to Facebook punch you is not ok. I wish Mark Zuckermuncher would create filters on Facebook. Ones where there are options like, Do you want to block all proposals? Yes. Do you want to block all relationship statuses? Yes. Do you want personalised affirmations? Oh that’s sweet Mark, why yes I do. And for the days you feel a little down and out… Do you want to see other fatties that have become even chunkier? YES MARK! Yes I do want a pick me up like that. Oh, hush! As if you really saw a person in a size 0000 with a cheese burger in her hand and thought oh what a lucky girl. No! You are think what a whore bag. What a skinny whore bag flaunting the fact that she can eat what she wants while the likes of me just have to look at food and a roll of fat forms around my waist.

I don’t understand why we constantly need to feel wanted, accepted and liked by the people out in cyber-land. I even catch myself sometimes thinking, well shit, that was a pretty decent selfie of me, so why did I get 3 likes? Out of 400+ friends, those numbers are bullshit. And then you start over thinking and over analysing. I am done I tell you. Done. I am truly considering packing my bags, breaking all my techie shit and moving to the Caribbean, on a secluded beach somewhere. Because the constant taste of vomit in my mouth from all these idiots online is getting old real quick. I really want to know how these assholes find love? Can someone help me out with trying to understand this! I mean, come on!

Have you ever starred at yourself in the mirror and thought well what the hell is wrong with me? I know I might need some make-up to fix my plain face, I know I’m a chubba-chubb, I may not like sharing my food, I am obsessed with having my own space, I get pissy when things I’ve placed in a certain way gets moved and I sometimes have to check my bag 5 times before I leave the house. I am starting to see some OCD tendencies with that one. But dang, I am fucking funny! It might the clumsy  and making an ass out of yourself funny. But it’s something. So that’s gotta give me some points right? And I know I can keep a conversation going.

What I’m trying to say is even those dry inept toasty bastards out there found their other halves. So how is it so hard for me to find someone? I am not even talking about a lifetime partner. I am just talking about some guy who can keep me company from time to time, have sex and then he can fuck off. Did I mention that I need to have space? So all I need is a frank fuck and frolic. That’s it and realistically that’s not asking for the heavens to be moved. I even tell guys I’m not looking for something serious. Let’s do casual. But still, I get nothing. So I am now convinced without a shadow of doubt that I must have been a delusional troll all along.

Ahh, who the fuck knows any more.


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