The Over-Educated Nympho

Between the pool party yesterday and spending an hour and a half moonlighting at the pool just now, I have met a ton of new neighbors. Here is a quick run-down of all the new neighbors, some candidates (ie evaluated for fuckability), some just plain cool.

Mr. Fucking Fabulous
Fabulously gay. LOVE HIM. My new BFF. The social butterfly of the apartment complex. He was the second person I met here, and a week before I moved in. It was meant to be.

Big Dude
The guy who lives next to Sweet Cheeks. Very funny, very smart, very loud, and very big. He moved in during the week I was staying with Sweet Cheeks between the break-up and my move-in day. We peeked in his window when he was gone and the only things we could see inside were a single chair, a huge tv, and a bong.

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While checking my web stats I came across this:

Overeducated and Unhappy

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck me. Three degrees and I suspect I’m not done–

I’ve done this. Many of us when we were adorable twelve-year olds have done this, passed along such a note to a beloved crush during math class:

Do you like me? Check one:
____yes!!!
____no

I wish it were still acceptable to do this in adulthood, because it would make things so much easier.

Actually, no, theoretically it would make things easier but in reality you would have to question and analyze to figure out if the note-receiver were lying or telling the truth. Did he say yes just to get in my pants, or did he say yes because he means yes, or did he say no just to make me try harder, or did he say no and mean no, the bastard?

And that’s why we need more boxes.

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