Where Have All The Good Men Gone?

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I personally don't think they have gone anywhere as in--runaway to a private island and hidden from neurotic women--more so they are just gone. As in. Do. Not. Exist.

Wait. There are two. My little brother who is kind, helpful and caring. Doing such things as helping me fill up my perpetually soft tires. The other one is The Perfect Boyfriend Of Twiglet. Both completely unavailable and, in essence, non-existent.

Starbucks Boy, I thought, was decent, if not good. But alas! Once more in life I was sadly deluded. I am back to being jaded and thinking all men are assholes waiting to rip you apart at a moments notice. Sadly, when I exist in this state I tend to be funnier and pursued by more silly boys. But I also tend to sit glowering at my desk writing long missives about the patheticness of men and life in general.

This month looks like it will be bright for all the people I work with. At least when I started selling cars I was going through a relatively optimistic/nice streak. Now, even that is gone and I am all out competitive bitch.

In short, I have concluded if there are any good men left, they will most certainly come to the rescue of my coworkers who will be soon stripped of any illusions that I was once a nice person. I would, at least, occasionally pretend that I could be sweet, innocent and charming. But, as unfair as it may seem to these poor mortals, all my bitterness at life in general will be channeled into neatly kicking their asses verbally, mentally and in car sold counts.

Wheeling and dealing men of the car business who think they have pulled a fast one on a nice girl, I have news for you:

Watch your back.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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