Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.Nine Numbers
Posted on January 05, 2012Nine phone numbers. They are:
323 829 6396
415 816 8728
520 260 8787
949 939 1676
213 321 9920
949 521 4014
310 920 2793
520 260 4080
949 842 5324
On New Year’s Day I received a text wishing me a “Happy New Year.” What I knew was hat I hadn’t had any contact with anyone on the list except for one person with whom I’d gone to law school. I responded with, “It’s been a while. I guess my number was still in your phone.” I thought it was sufficiently neutral when I really wanted to text, “We haven’t spoken since 2007. Why fucking bother to wish me a happy anything? You were one of the many friends I lost when I really, really needed friends. Fuck you very much.”
Apparently this former friend knew how I felt despite my intended neutrality because she responded that I seemed “bitter,” “snippy,” and “mad.” At one time she knew me quite well but it’s true that we’ve not communicated with each other in any way whatsoever since 2007, or possibly early 2008.
I fucking hate mass text messages because they are all complete bullshit. Back on Thanksgiving I got a text message from my high school girlfriend and I responded that I had no interest in silly contrived mass messages. She assured me she had meant to message me and then was nice enough to attempt a “conversation” that I know was nothing more than a way to assuage her guilt.
So I struck up a conversation with Happy New Year, thinking that maybe she just didn’t have an excuse to contact me in the four years of birthdays, Christmases, Thanksgivings, and fucking Arbor Days since we last spoke. When we last spoke she did offer to “be a friend” if I wanted to talk, but I was in the midst of a depression that was so incredibly fucking boring that I didn’t want to subject any friends to it, so I didn’t. I suppose it was my place to let her know that I was no longer depressed, but by that time it had been so long since we’d spoken that I didn’t bother.
One of the things that made it easy for me not to bother was that chances were decent that Happy New Year and my ex-husband were still friends. Even though she went to law school with me, they got along quite well and he even had a crush on her. I have no interest in knowing anything about him or him knowing anything about me, which has been easy since we no longer have any mutual friends.
Despite my misgivings, I assured Happy New Year that I wasn’t at all mad and asked how she was. We had had two text exchanges within 15 minutes so I expected a relatively quick reply letting me know how she was. I didn’t expect anything deep, just a, “Been good. Have new job/kid/man, etc. How’re you?” I got nothing. For three days.
Maybe I should have given her more time to respond, but I don’t have any reason or inclination to keep in touch with people just for the sake of keeping in touch with them. That could be why I have very few friends I’ve known for very long. I’m still in contact with the aforementioned high school girlfriend, and still in contact with a good friend I had when I lived in southern California, and talk to a few friends from law school, and am still close with my old secretary from my first job as a lawyer, but no one I can say is my best friend or for whom I’d “do anything.” And that’s fine. I understand that I may be a difficult person.
I responded, “I guess you don’t care to tell me. Don’t ‘communicate’ w/me unless you actually want to, you know, communicate w/me.” I don’t imagine I’ll ever get a response to that.
I swear. True story.
Dumped
Posted on December 12, 2011It never feels good to be dumped. Never. Even if it’s expected. Even if one isn’t strictly single. Even if there’s someone at home who will comfort through the pain.
What I never needed, even when I was depressed due to a number of circumstances (2007 and 2008 really sucked), were complete strangers sympathizing with me. Hell, I didn’t even want to talk to my friends because I knew my whining was boring as shit. I didn’t want to hear myself so I couldn’t imagine that anyone else would want to hear me.
Along those same lines, I have never solicited sympathy from Twitter. The few times I’ve posted something like, “I’m having a really shitty day,” I usually followed it up with, “And I have no interest in being cheered up.” (Or something like that; I’ve not searched my Twitter stream for accuracy.) Or, if I did get a, “Buck up, camper,” text, I’d respond with, “That’s how life goes.” Bitching about what amounts to a pretty good life should not be encouraged.
So getting tweets from the Viking’s girlfriends purporting to feel sorry for my predicament was not welcomed – at all. I didn’t ask to follow them, nor for them to follow me – the reason we happened to be following each other had to do mostly with my curiosity. Periodically I’d look at Twitter and I’d see that the Viking had “mentioned” me, and I’d want to know the context of such mentioning. It came down to the Viking saying really nice things about me and me wanting to know to whom he’d said such things. Ended up it was to a few chicks he’d had on the line to fuck – a group I’d known about but which I didn’t want to know.
***
Skinny Jeans and I had an appointment. We had a date and time he was to come over to my place, chit-chat for a bit, and then retire to guest room where we’d have some fun sex. Our relationship, such as it was, had developed naturally and easily. We had good conversations, good food, good drinks, and, when it happened, good sex.
We had set the date a couple of weeks prior so the day before I texted him just to confirm. Since the Viking and I try to be considerate of each other, I wanted to make sure there was a reason for him to be out of the house; if I didn’t have a date he could just stay home.
When I woke up the morning of the planned date I had a message, “I can’t come over today. I’m seeing someone new and it needs to be exclusive right now. I definitely always have fun w/you and enjoy yr company. We should stay in touch, and you shld always feel free to call me to hang out. xoxo” No matter how nicely he phrased it, I was still dumped.
Not only were we not going to fuck that day, we weren’t going to fuck ever. Dammit. I liked his cock, which was uncircumcised and a good size. It was fun to suck.
He seemed to have a good time as well and was even nice enough to say he liked my body. He didn’t freak out when he saw that I had sex toys, which is more than I can say about the Attorney. I haven’t heard from the Attorney since our night at my place when he couldn’t get it up (but he could come), probably because he was intimidated by the size of my dildos. Dude didn’t realize that large dildos take the pressure off the guy – he didn’t need to have a big cock because I already had a big dildo.
I decided to stay in bed to wallow in my self pity. Of course I still had the Viking and if it was just a matter of wanting to get fucked that day, he would have been glad to accommodate me. But I’m not nonmonogamous because I don’t get enough sex. It’s more about the variety and having something that’s mine. Basically, I’m nonmonogamous because I’m selfish.
So I tweeted that getting dumped is heartbreaking and the Viking’s gaggle of girlfriends responded to me. Just because they’re fucking the Viking or want to fuck the Viking does not mean they need to know me in any capacity. The Viking and I have found that it’s actually easier if we don’t know the people the other one is fucking. Neither one of us likes people very much so if we had a policy wherein the other person had veto power over our sex partners, we’d probably be monogamous.
For example, the Viking probably wouldn’t think much of Skinny Jeans who, yes, wears skinny jeans. And rides a bike. And lives in Logan Square. And is in a band. And has the sideburns and hairstyle reminiscent of a guy who wears skinny jeans while riding a bike through Logan Square to band practice. But that’s fine, because I like Skinny Jeans.
It’s really sad that I won’t have the opportunity to have more fun with that cock. The cock that turned out just as good as I had imagined it would be.
I swear. True story.
The Stories Aren’t True
Posted on December 05, 2011The stories are always about the dramatic breakup but they’re not true; what happens is that inertia takes over. People get married because that’s what’s been planned and they don’t want to disappoint anyone. What really happens is that the wedding happens and then the people realize they’re miserable; I was miserable for eight years after I married but I have a friend who was only miserable for nine months. I was depressed for an additional period of over two years but my friend got with her guy and married him right away. I assume they’re somewhat happy since they’re still together four years later.
Life isn’t nearly as dramatic as it’s made out to be on dramas. Yes, I do see the irony.
I swear. True story.
Photo Lotto 14
Posted on November 05, 2011
I know the Viking would think this woman was too thin. I would agree with him. But there is something about this photo that I really like.
I have a thing for argyle, though I don’t know if I think it’s sexy. I think naturally pale skin should be celebrated, though I assume the color tones in this photo have been manipulated in some manner.
A couple of things about this photo I find independently sexy: unknown model, knee socks, sliver of black panties that can be seen. Wouldn’t it be fun to sneak up behind her, move those panties aside, and bury your face in her pussy? Maybe for some dirty fun you’d like to lick her ass too ….
The colors of the shitty couch and her clothes are probably what do it for me, and get me past that damn bony ass. Does this photo make fuckers want to pound her from behind?
I swear. True story.
Still Alive
Posted on November 04, 2011I haven’t died. I haven’t decided to stop posting. I haven’t blog-faded. What I have been is busy.
But Shazam, you don’t have a job, how can you possibly be busy? Well, asshats, working for the man isn’t the only thing that can fill one’s time. Do any of you really just work? No, you do other shit too, and so do I.
I will explain to y’all some of the “other shit” I do, something I didn’t bother to do for the Jazz Man. I had met the Jazz Man through OkCupid and knew I probably wouldn’t be having sex with him. I’m not sure if all people do the attraction math, but I do.
Attraction math works something like this: within the first five seconds or so of meeting someone I decide if, knowing nothing else about the person, I’d fuck him or her. From that point, various things will make me more or less likely to fuck the person. Or, looked at it another way, the person’s grooming, accent, teeth, attitude, for example, can add too or subtract from the original “score.”
Jazz Man’s hair was long and kind of gross – minus. Jazz Man explained to me, in a very condescending way, what “ovo-lacto vegetarian” meant – minus. I told him I was from California. Jazz Man then tried to explain to me, after many assertions on my part that I was not smart enough to get it, how into he was into some sort of perfect number or something – minus. He was a math professor who apparently hadn’t spoken to anyone not in his department for a while.
I told him I wasn’t looking to fuck, but to be friends. He was kind of offended but tried to play it off. We were trying to schedule another get-together but our schedules weren’t meshing; he went to France for a while, I had various things going on.
He showed his true colors when he said that I couldn’t possibly be busy since I don’t have a job. Maybe I’m defensive. I’m probably defensive. But not working does not mean not doing anything. I’ve been enjoying my art classes. I started yoga and I really am going to go more than once a week. I walk Isis. I just had a visit from my dad. I enjoy cooking and procuring things to cook. I volunteer. Archery. Kayaking. Sex. Film class. Book club. I do shit, dammit.
Well, Jazz Man didn’t think so. He thought I should be free whenever he was free since he had a job and I did not.
So I’ve been slacking here on Random Rim Jobs. It’s been nearly two weeks since I posted. While I don’t have a good excuse or reason, I’d been thinking for some time of cutting back from daily to five days a week, but that’s lame. Five days a week mimics the typical work week, something that I don’t have.
I’ve decided to post when I want to post. That way I don’t feel obligated to put out posts just for the sake of it. So maybe there’ll be a couple of posts a day. Or not. I sincerely hope not to have an absence of nearly two weeks. I’d be happy to post more things written by y’all. (ShazamChi@yahoo.com for submissions, which can be attributed anonymously or pseudonymously.)
I’m still alive. I’m living quite well in Chicago with the Viking and the animals. Winter’s coming.
I swear. True story.
Winning Opening Lines (These Worked)
Posted on October 18, 2011I get the idea from feedback that the barrage of what amounts to “look how dumb men are” posts is getting old. I’m sorry.
Not all the men with whom I deal are dummies. Some of them are not. Some of them I’ve fucked. The ones I fuck have passed several levels of scrutiny by the time their penises go inside me. The first level is, of course the opening line.
For every ten shitty opening lines I get one decent one. Each one of those doesn’t result in a fucking, but it results in more than my ridicule.
Hi, I like your profile and think you are absolutely gorgeous. And (from what I can read) I think we are looking for the same thing. I’m not into games, but require discretion–hence why i don’t have a profile picture–but if you provide me with an email then i’ll send some pictures so that you can have a look and see if i’m your type. In short, i’m a young, but mature, sporty guy who is (and looks) scandinavian. Hope to hear from you, and explore the prospect of having mutually beneficial fun together. take care, Mark.
Unfortunately, Mark’s profile lacked content. It said nothing and had no photos; there was nothing that would allow me to determine if I wanted to meet the guy. I don’t have the time, energy, or motivation to do the work necessary to get the information that would have been included in a good profile.
LOVE your profile. I really appreciate it when people state exactly what they want on here and I appreciate it even more when people are very upfront and blunt about it. I have little patience for the games people play on here myself…
At any rate, I enjoyed reading your profile and I suspect we might get along pretty well.
Cheers
Cameron
I not only responded to this guy but we scheduled a time to meet in person. I went to his neighborhood, which was a hefty bus ride away, and we had a nice conversation over a couple of drinks. Then we went back to his place that was unfortunately occupied by a roommate he hated and her dreadlocked boyfriend; we left. We had a pleasant time but nothing earth-shattering. I don’t think he was any more surprised that I didn’t contact him than I was that he didn’t contact me.
I’ve never come across a profile as direct as yours, I like it! What are you doing this weekend?
Michael
This guy and I set up a meeting as well, though it wasn’t for a weekend, when I spend my time with the Viking. We exchanged numbers and texted to coordinate schedules. First, we were going to meet on a Friday at a place of his choosing. Then, he had alternative plan and asked that we reschedule, which we did, to a place of my choosing. Five hours before we were to meet, he confirmed; all was on. Finally, a mere 13 minutes before we were to meet, he texted that he couldn’t make it. I consider that flaking and I let him know. He no longer has an OkCupid profile.
Hi…you keep coming up in my quiver so I thought I’d take a look….you’re absolutely GORGEOUS. We seem to have quite a bit in common, especially when it comes to sex. I’m very glad to see you’re honest about being here for sex and I’m excited you’d even consider performing anilingus on a partner….that is just incredibly hot….so hi. I’m Steve. Do you really swallow?
I know this would seem like it might be too forward for me to respond, but there must have been something about this guy – probably that he was nice enough to call me gorgeous – and his profile that caused me to respond. We were both busy for a while so we had to schedule well ahead. We had settled on a date, time, and place when I got this message:
Sounds excellent. Do you generally like to fuck on a first meeting if all goes well? If so, do you have condoms and lube and all that fun stuff or should I come equipped?
I appreciated that he asked – rather than assumed – about the fucking on the first meeting so I told him as much. I also answered his question – we wouldn’t be fucking right away. He didn’t indicate that if we weren’t going to fuck that our meeting was off so I went ahead and showed up on time.
He did not. I let him know that there’d be no other chance with me. He no longer has an OkCupid profile.
I had been flaked on twice in less than 18 hours, and those were the guys who’d had good opening lines.
I swear. True story.
The One Where I Reply to Criticism
Posted on October 17, 2011
anoncoward
anoncoward@mailinator.com
50.74.36.86
These types of posts can be funny, although too much can be wearing to read through. The question that it prompts for me however, is whether you are being fair in mocking some of the approaches you are apparently getting.
I mean your OkCupid profile says that you are interested in meeting in person versus chatting online or talking on the phone, but then you ding guys for suggesting a meeting too quickly.
Your profile also mentions that you are interested in casual sex, but you subsequently put down guys who simply follow up on that by suggesting casual sex.
More to the point however, is that I get the impression that you might not be clear on what you are really looking for. I mean, if all you are really interested in is having a good sexual experience, then why should a person’s casualness when it comes to written expression make any difference?
Given your earlier dating habits I can’t imagine that you are as discriminating in person as you tend to be when interacting with people online, or else your attitude has changed recently and you have decided to be more selective about your sexual partners.
Obviously you can do anything you want, and as I said I enjoy reading these sorts of posts. However, I thought you might want to know the impression that it creates in the minds of some readers.
Yeah, they can be wearing to read, which is the fucking point. I want to illustrate the bullshit I go through (completely by choice, I admit) reading things that are sent my way. I’m probably not fair, but I doubt anyone can be completely impartial as everyone comes with baggage.
I take issue with your use of “apparently.” There is nothing apparently about the messages I receive. I have repeatedly made clear that I don’t lie, that I don’t have the memory required for lying (without being a complete ‘tard), and that I lack imagination. I didn’t make any of this shit up, and if I could I would write more than phony OkCupid come-on lines. I hope.
I am interested in meeting in person. I don’t ding anyone for wanting to meet “too” quickly, but I do need to plan ahead. Sometimes I’m already booked two or more weeks out; I’m willing to schedule and chat/message/text in the mean time. I take issue with the guys who want to meet and fuck on the initial meeting. I take issue with guys who think that because we’re meeting we’re fucking. One of the major reasons I want to meet in person rather than chat is because I’ve had plenty of experiences where the guy and I got along online or on the phone (“Seattle Guy“) very well, but then when we met in person it was clear there was no chemistry. That means we’ll only fuck on the first date if things go very well.
Yeah, I’m interested in casual sex, as in I want to fuck guys without being their girlfriend or burdened by any other form of commitment. That does not mean I will fuck anyone who is willing to fuck me. “Casual sex” does not mean “indiscriminate.” I need to meet the guys in order to figure out if I want to have casual sex with them. I have a problem with the guys who think because I’m interested in casual sex at all that I must be interested in casual sex with anyone.
I don’t deny that my “standards,” such as they are, seem arbitrary. From one day to the next what I want may change based on my mood, my whims, the level of idiocy of the messages I get, etc. Not my hormones, as those don’t fluctuate all that much. So it is possible that I may not be clear on what it is I’m looking for, other than guys with whom I get along and whom I want to fuck. It’s both that simple and that complicated.
What is also both simple and complicated is the manner in which I weed guys out. As a woman willing to have casual sex, I receive a lot of messages from people, mostly men. I need easy ways to thin the herd. It could be that they must be at least a certain height. Or that they have a certain eye color. I choose that they must use proper grammar and spelling and they can’t have stupid user names, among others.
I would say I’m only pickier insofar as I don’t want to put up with the bullshit I put up with when I wasn’t so picky. I let some very questionable people into my home, something I’m not willing to do now that I live with someone. Rest assured, however, that my standards were the same then as now, but then I was more willing to compromise. I now live with a great guy who will fuck me any time I want so there’s no need for compromise.
Isn’t the Internet nice in that we no longer think we’re the only one to experience anything?
I swear. True story.
