Silly, Silly Games

My readers are already aware that all wimminz lie, all the time. Even so, I find it funny to note the depths to which they commonly stoop, in a desperate bid for attention.

Meet “Sally,” a cute but dramatic redhead, who had few talents so prounounced as the ability to make public scenes. This was a briefer than usual pairing (we went out a grand total of two times), and the brevity was largely caused by the incredible energy drain of just being around her. This morning, she decided she wants some more of Boxer’s life.

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I’m honestly unclear about the best way to give the brush to someone. She’s not worth talking to, but she’s also not worth cursing out. She was more annoying than the typical wimminz, but it was never personal.

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No doubt she wants to tell me about how her cat died, or how she got fucked and chucked by five guys (at once) on Tinder, or how she just got arrested for robbing the liquor store. The problem is, I don’t care.


Author: Boxer

Sinister All-Male Dancer. Secret King of all Gamma Males. Member of Frankfurt School. Your Fave Contrarian!