Trouble in Paradise

So I decided to write another blog with an imaginary boyfriend. I’ve always wondered what kinds of arguments I might have with a bf, considering what a passive guy I am. Here’s how it turned out:

Walter: “Let’s go out tonight.”

Tim: “But my Ugly Betty torrent just finished downloading.”

Walter: “You can watch that later, let’s hit up the clubs.”

Tim: “You just want to show me off.”

<Walter can’t help but roll his eyes>

Walter: “You’re right, my friends really want to see you.”

Tim: “The loud ones? Yuck.”

Walter: “Tim! We never do anything! We’ve turned into one of those boring couples!”

Tim: “Turned into?”

Walter: “You know what I mean!”

Tim: “Didn’t we just go out like, that time we went out not too long ago?”

Walter: “If you’re talking about the time we met, the answer is no, you made me drive over to your place, where you analyzed me in the lobby for an hour before letting me in. That hardly constitutes as ‘going out.’”

Tim: “That makes no sense. How would I know your friends are annoying if I never actually went outside with you?”

Walter: “You never met them! You just automatically assumed they were annoying.”

Tim: “Well, are they?”

Walter: “Yea, sort of, but come on Tim, let’s do it. Let’s hit up Splash.”

Tim: “That cheese dump?”

Walter: “Or Therapy! Wherever you want!”

Tim: “That place is so damn loud. They should call it ‘Not Therapy.’ Haha.”

Walter: “Good one. Alright, what about Posh?”

Tim: “Nah, I’ve been there with Jonathan. Too many memories.”

Walter: “Who’s Jonathan?”

Tim: “Some guy who’s nothin’ like you. He was this really hot Puerto Rican – Italian mix. Hey, maybe you could get a tan.”

Walter: “I told you, my skin turns red.”

Tim: “Are you albino?”

Walter: “For the fifth time today, no I am not an albino.”

Tim: “Hey, wanna have sex?”

Walter: “Don’t play with me like that.”

Tim: “Haha, I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Walter: “Speaking of which, what do I have to do to make you put out this Saturday?”

Tim: “You could do my laundry again.”

Walter: “Fine. Anything else?”

Tim: “Ooohhh I get more??”

Walter: “Well the last time I did your goddamn laundry you cut the intimacy short by yellin’ ‘Adam!’”

Tim: “Yea, he was another hot Latin dude. You’d think that after a half a year I’d get over them already.”

Walter: “You’d think.”

Tim: “There was a third guy too, named Dave.”

Walter: “Didn’t you disguise his name as ‘Danny’?”

Tim: “Yea, he was soooo hot. I can’t decide who’s hotter, Dave, Adam, or Jonathan. I mean they really made up for my not getting any at all during 2008. 2009 was a real win win win. 2010 so far looks pale in comparison.”

Walter: “That’s it. There’s only so much abuse I can take.”

Tim: “What? Oh, no, I didn’t mean you! I meant it like a metaphor. I guess I can see how it can apply to your situation though.”

Walter: “Enough! I’m outta here. My therapist told me dating you was a bad idea, no matter how sort of attractive you are compared to me at least.”

Tim: “Hey, I have feelings.”

Walter: “Yea, well so do I! And it’d be nice if we could be intimate once in a while without me having to ‘Promise to take out your garbage for a month’ or ‘Pick up Boston Market on Wednesdays.’”

Tim: “And Sundays.”

Walter: “And Sundays.”

Tim: “It’s like a little pick-me-up right before a Monday.”

Walter: “Right, and by the way, I think Boston Market’s disgusting.”

Tim: “What is wrong with you?”

Walter: “We’re just completely incompatible in every way possible, especially with the sex, if I can call it that.”

Tim: “I just don’t think the scenario of licking your crooked cock’s mushroom tip poses as a viable option of ‘a good time’”

Walter: “When have I ever asked you to do that? And it’s not crooked you jerk.”

Tim: “Bent. Whatever.”

Walter: “It’s not bent either! You’d know if you ever saw it!”

Tim: “Didn’t I give you a hand tuggy once?”

Walter: “No, it was someone-“

Tim: “Someone else, yea, I just remembered.”

Walter: “I thought you said you didn’t date anyone right before me.”

Tim: “I didn’t.”

Walter: “You mean… you did that with someone, DURING me??”

Tim: “No, I was lying from the get go, I never gave anyone a hand tuggy.”

Walter: “I have your word? You really didn’t cheat?”

Tim: “Walter. Would I ever go out of my way to engage in any sort of physical intimacy willingly?

Walter: “Point taken.”

Tim: “Anyway, so you were saying?”

Walter: “Yea so I’m breaking up with you.”

Tim: “Umm, that’s so sad. I hope we can stay friends. Hey, can you press play on the computer for me before you go? And then bring me the mouse? It’s cordless.”

Walter: “Fuck you.”

Tim: “Aww, tear.”

Walter: “That’s not funny.”

Tim: “Come on, you’re closer.”

Walter: “Don’t write this on your blog.”

Tim: “I won’t, promise.”

<Walter presses play and then leaves. The bastard forgot to bring me the mouse though. The end. Good riddance.>

Any similarities or likeness between this blog and my threesome blog are not intentional and are purely coincidental. Or maybe I should’ve just named him Gene again.

The Fruits of Being Single

People always ask me, “Tim, why do you pick on orphans?” to which I respond: “Not ‘why,’ but ‘how.’”

Anywho, there are many ways a person can screw up a date. My last date messed up horribly when he decided to order a vegetarian meal. Now I don’t like to judge people, but vegetarians are extremely insecure people. They always feel the need to hide behind their ethics instead of improving on their personality. They don’t choose something relevant to care about, like Oprah’s show ending in 2011, but choose to devote their moral values towards “animals” and their “lives.”

Take for instance, the date in reference:

Nate: “I’m going to order the nut sandwich.”

Me: “I’m gonna get the sausage pie.”

Nate: “Wow, there must be a lot of calories in that. But you look like you can take it.”

Me: “Are you making a pass at me?”

Nate: “No, not at all. I just mean you’re thin and probably have a fast metabolism.”

Me: “A fast what? Speak English, this isn’t Egypt.”

Nate: “Um, I’m not Egyptian.”

Me: “Then why the hell are you eating carrots all day?”

Nate: “Is that even an Egyptian thing?”

Me: “Listen, I don’t think we’re very compatible.”

Nate: “Obviously, since you’re fucking crazy.”

Me: “Please, language, there are children about.”

<Nate looks around>

Nate: “No there aren’t!”

Me: “See that woman down there?”

Nate: “Yea…”

Me: “Is she fat, or is she pregnant?”

Nate: “She’s pregnant, what are you getting at?”

Me: “She’s pregnant, you confirm this.”

Nate: “Yea. She’s pregnant. So what?”

Me: “Do you think her fetus is developing without ears?”

Nate: “Look you psycho, a fetus can’t hear me cuss.”

Me: “Haven’t you read any studies? Or do you not believe in science?”

Nate: “Of course I believe in science, but it’s not like her fetus can even hear me from so far away.”

Me: “It’s only 20 meters.”

Nate: “No it’s not, it’s 20 feet.”

Me: “Are you bashing me for using the metric system?”

Nate: “No, I’m not, okay, it’s like 7 meters then.”

Me: “You’re just against my heritage.”

Nate: “No way! I respect all cultures!”

Me: “Please don’t use this tone around children.”

Nate: “Lunatic! There are no kids around!”

Me: <across the room> “Ma’am. Ma’am! I’m sorry that my ‘date’ here is saying ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ all the goddamn time. His mother didn’t teach him manners. I hope you won’t be stupid enough to mess up your child.”

Nate: “Alright you loon, I’m leaving.”

Me: “What? Why?”

Nate: “Uh, take a guess.”

Me: “Damn it, why does this always happen?”

Nate: “Jesus. Someone should tape record you and show you what you’re like.”

Me: “I’m not making a sex tape with you.”

Nate: “God, you really don’t get anything, do you?”

Me: “Look, you’re sweet and all, but, you’re not really my type.”

Nate: “Why am I still here? I’m going! Goodbye!”

Me: “Ok, but uh, what’s the point of coming to dinner if you don’t even eat anything? What, you got morals against eating lettuce now too?”

Nate: “As a matter of fact, I’m starting a new group that doesn’t kill vegetables in a cruel way.”

Me: “…Really?”

Nate: “Yea. You’re probably not interested. But so far, there are 14 of us who are going to protest the way Whole Foods kills their potatoes.”

Me: “…What’s wrong with their method?”

Nate: “We find the way they have the potatoes simply pulled out of the ground very sadistic.”

Me: “Is that a fact.”

Nate: “Yea, here’s a pamphlet.”

<Nate hands Tim a pamphlet>

Nate: “It talks about how cauliflower is preferred over broccoli due to systematic vegetable color racism.”

Me: “I personally like cauliflower’s texture better.”

Nate: “Well you’re a vegetable racist.”

Me: “It says here that ‘Bringing your children apple-picking will send your little ones straight to the fiery pits of hell, burning neck deep in charcoal,’ and that it will be followed by ‘A ritual where kids faces will be kicked in by the hoof of the devil.’

Nate: “We have a bible that clearly states ‘Thou shalt not pick the fruits of Mother Earth, lest you desire wrath by thee form of rains of grape be fallen upon thy home.’”

Me: “You mean it’ll rain grapes if you eat fruit?”

Nate: “Not in so many words, but yes.”

Me: “You. Are. Insane.”

Nate: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Uh, dude, I gotta go.”

Nate: “I thought I enlightened you.”

Me: “I thought it was some sort of joke.”

Nate: “You will feel the wrath soon for your blasphemy.”

Me: “Yea, I’m real scared it’s about to rain grapes. I hope it’s not the seedless ones.”

Nate: “Then continue living your life as a homicidal celery murderer.”

Me: “I hope you don’t choke on an artichoke.”

Nate: “Good one.”

Me: “Don’t get squashed by a squash.”

Nate: “Keep ‘em coming.”

Me: “Have fun coming out, to a brussel sprout.”

Nate: “Funny.”

Me: “Go eat beans with Mr. Bean.”

Nate: “The coming out one was better.”

Me: “I know. Bye.”

<I stand up and make my way out.>

Nate: “Enjoy being a vegetable, Tim Timato.”

<I stop and turn around>

Me: “Actually-“

<And pause for dramatic effect>

Me: “Tomatoes are fruits.”

Finally, I put on my sunglasses and made my way out into the night. This is why I don’t date vegetarians, they’re all mental. Well, after that, I hit up a club and danced to She Wolf at some point. I realized I’d rather be single like Shakira than spend my life with a vegetarian/cult member. There’s a she wolf in her closet. In her closet, indeed.

20 Things I Would Do If I Had Muscles:

1. Push my baby brother on the swing for longer than 5 minutes.

2. Put on a gun show for the troops.

3. Stop having nightmares of Wendy Williams attacking me (sexually).

4. Appear less desperate at a club, begin setting standards.

5. Sell a product that doesn’t work.

6. Wear shorts outside.

7. Be in a fitness magazine not as a before photo.

8. Drink protein shakes in public.

9. Randomly tell strangers how to lose weight.

10. End poverty in Africa or at least learn to break dance.

11. Be more confident, high-five a gypsy.

12. Talk to kids about drugs and getting high.

13. Tell a homeless person: “I don’t want to give you money.”

14. Do a real squat.

15. At the gym, intimidate little guys to get off the equipment I want to use.

16. Touch my muscles around other people and not notice I am doing it.

17. Bench press a skinny person or dumbbell fly 2 midgets.

18. Develop an incessant need to use the term “bro.”

19. Masturbate without having to switch hands.

20. Not be afraid of dogs anymore.

Did I Just Get Dumped?

Whenever I ask my sister if I got dumped, she always says “Tim, you can’t be dumped if you were never with anyone in the first place.” But then I remember she’s a woman and her opinions are about as experienced as the slave trade. And I don’t even know what that means.

So here’s what happened. I met a super hot guy who was like, totally into me. How did I know this? Bc:

1. He gave me the time of day.
2. We spoke on the phone twice.
3. When we met he recognized me.
4. He had an erection until I took off my shirt.
5. He sent me a text 8 hours after I sent him one.

I can go on and on.

But then yesterday, I sent him a text in the morning right, and he never responded. Then I sent him a downelink message and he didn’t respond to that either.

Ok, I know damn well that my happiness shouldn’t depend on whether or not a guy calls me. I should be happy on my own and all that bullshit. But hell. People who know me know that I am never excited about anything in my life. Is it so bad that I get excited by this dude? Of course not. The next logical step was of course for me to call him.

So I did.

And then guess what happened??

No one picked up. I was ready to leave a witty message, too. Some people say “Tim, you’ll get more guys if you pack on 40 pounds of muscle” but I say “Screw that, I’m going to be funny – like the Octomom.”

So yea the phone rang for an extremely long time and it eventually said the person was not available and there was no option to leave a voicemail. I was shit out of luck at this point.

Well now I’m thinking, what did I do wrong? Why doesn’t this guy like me? And then I remembered:

1. He modeled for Wilhelmina for 3 years.
2. He’s an international club designer.
3. He’s under 45.
4. He has a tattoo.
5. He explicitly said he just wanted to be friends.

Oh yea, I forgot he had a tattoo. Guy with tats are all that and a bag of chips. I can’t compete with that.

Anyway, Tim Timato’s blog wouldn’t really be Tim Timato’s blog without some good ol’ fashioned dialogue:

Let’s call him “Danny.”

—–

Danny: “So Tim, what do you do?”

Tim: “What?”

Danny: “Like, career wise, what do you do?”

Tim: “Huh?”

Danny: “Do you have a job?”

Tim: “I’m sorry, all I can see is your face… like, your square jaw… beautiful eyes… sultry lips… They’re moving and there’s sound, but-

Danny: “I said what do you do career wise for a job?”

Tim: “Oh, I do whatever you want me to do, baby.”

Danny: “I just want to have a real conversation.”

Tim: “What?”

Danny: “Nevermind.”

Tim: “Huh?”

—–

Yea I don’t know what his problem was either. Some guys are just totally superficial and won’t give you a chance.

I bet you thought getting dumped in 2 days must have been a world record. Well now I got dumped in a few hours, so ya’ll thought wrong suckas!!

Hypothetical Threesome

The title says it all, this is a blog about a threesome, should I ever participate in one. You’ll have to suspend your disbelief a little, because I am writing in a new character who will be my boyfriend. Now I know I’ve said that I’m saving myself for James Guardino, but since that isn’t going to happen in any of our lifetimes combined (counting animals and single celled organisms), let’s be more realistic and pretend that I got hitched with some guy named “Gene.” And the guy we invited can be named “Donald.”

Gene: “So Tim, are you ready for some hot sex?”

Tim: “Is this going to require me to put down my sandwich?”

Gene: “No, go ahead and finish it. Me and Donald will start first, ok?”

Tim: “Donald and I*.”

Gene: “Right. Oh… Donald, you’re so hot.”

Donald: “You too, studmuffin.”

Tim: “Eh, you’re both average.”

Gene: “Tim, just finish your sandwich.”

<Donald and Gene start to kiss>

Tim: “Excuse you! Get the hell off mah man!”

Donald: “Um, I’m sorry.”

Tim: “Yea, and I see you EYEING him too.”

Gene: “Tim, you said you’d be okay with all this.”

Tim: “I know baby, I just don’t want you to leave me.”

Gene: “You don’t?”

Tim: “Of course not. Hey can you pass me the mayo?”

Gene: “Sure. Here.”

Donald: “I can close my eyes.”

Tim: “Wow, you’re so talented.”

<Donald closes his eyes and licks Gene’s body>

Gene: “Oh, man, that’s hot.”

Tim: “All that tongue action is making me thirsty.”

<Tim opens up a can of coke.>

Gene: “Hey baby, wanna participate?”

Tim: “Aww, you’re always thinking of me.”

<Tim gives Gene a peck on his cheek>

Gene: “I was thinking more along the lines of… you know… you can suck on my penis… maybe just a little?”

Tim: “Ew.”

Donald: “Mind if I do it?”

Tim: “Knock yourself out.”

<Donald goes down on Gene>

Gene: “Mmm, that feels good.”

Tim: “I can’t do that now anyway, we ran out of Doritos. You know I need to grind it up into dust and pepper it on your thing before I’ll even come close to it.”

Gene: “Yea, you keep making me buy chips for this but you finish the whole bag before we ever have sex.”

Tim: “We just had sex two weeks ago.”

Gene: “That was when we first met.”

Tim: “Well, I was there.”

Gene: “I can hardly count me giving myself a hand tuggy as ‘sex’ anyway.”

Tim: “Hey, I let you watch me watch you do it.”

Gene: “You didn’t watch, you fell asleep.”

Tim: “Baby, I was tired from work.”

Gene: “It was a Saturday and all you did was photoshop what you’d look like after plastic surgery.”

Tim: “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

Gene: “Right. And by the way Tim, there’s no such thing as ‘shoulder implants’.”

Donald: “Dudes, I’m trying to suck dick here.”

Gene: “Sorry! Go ahead.”

<Donald continues vigorously>

Gene: “Mmm… ohhh…”

Tim: “Wow, look at him go.”

Gene: “That’s so hot. Yea, keep doing it.”

Tim: “You know what, this isn’t so bad at all.”

Gene: “It’s totally hot… Babe, wanna make out?”

Tim: “Umm, you’re my ‘settle for now’ boyfriend. I don’t like you in that way, remember? But I don’t want to grow up old and alone either.”

Gene: “Damn it Tim, not in front of our guest.”

Donald: “Should I still continue?”

Gene: “Yea, please. Oh, mm, ohhh, that’s so hot, yea.”

Tim: “You should really pay him for that, he’s doing such a good job.”

Gene: “I can do it for you too if you’d like.”

Tim: “You know I only like getting it from guys with nice traps. Otherwise the view is just boring.”

Gene: “Damn it Tim, guest.”

Tim: “Oh please, he can’t hear us.”

Donald: “Um, I can, and at this rate, I wouldn’t mind getting paid.”

Tim: “Ew.”

Donald: “You two obviously have problems in the bedroom, and I don’t think I want to be a part of this anymore.”

Tim: “If you finish him off, I’ll let you give me a massage.”

Donald: “Ok!”

<Donald goes down on Gene yet again>

Gene: “How did you do that?”

Tim: “My momma always said, if you find someone that ugly, he’ll do anything.”

Gene: “Pretend you didn’t hear that! Ohh, ohh, that’s good, mmm…”

Tim: “Hey, mind if I turn on the tv?”

Donald: “ ‘Knock yourself out.’ “

<Tim turns on the tv>

Tim: “Yes! Frasier is on.”

Gene: “Yea, ohhh, almost there.”

Tim: “Shhh, I can’t hear Roz.”

Gene: (whispering) “You’ve seen this episode a million times! Oh… yea… almost.”

Tim: “Did you hear that? Did you hear what she said to Niles?”

Gene: “OOOOHHH YEEEEAAA!!!”

Tim: “That Maris is such a hoot.”

Gene: “Oh, that was so good. Shit, that was good. I haven’t felt like this in months.”

Tim: “Babe, you missed the whole episode.”

Donald: “Okay, can somebody fuck me now?”

<Gene looks at Tim.>

<Tim turns off the tv>

Tim: “BEND OVER BITCH!”

-The end

M. Night Shyamalan’s got nothing on me.

Love Wasn’t In the Air

So I had a date with Kris Lasso and it was all swell and stuff for the most part, but at this point, I realized that there wasn’t too much chemistry. Here’s how it all went down.

Me: “So what do you want to order?”

Kris: “I think I’ll hear the specials.”

Me: “I want a divorce.”

Kris: “What?”

Me: “It’s not you, it’s me.”

Kris: “Oh, you mean you want to stop dating?”

Me: “Yes, that.”

Kris: “Ok, that’s cool, you wanna be friends at least?”

Me: “I know you must be devastated, but just take it one day at a time.”

Kris: “Sure, but you still wanna see the movie later or what? Like as casual friends or something.”

Me: “Of course, of course, anything you want to make the hurt a little easier.”

Kris: “Tim, it was our third date, I’ll get over it, hahaha.”

Me: “That’s good Kris, it’s good to laugh, ha-ha-ha, indeed.”

Kris: “Uh, yea. Anyway, so what are you having?”

Me: “It’s just that, you know, I like you and all, but I just didn’t really feel the chemistry.”

Kris: “Yea, neither did I.”

Me: “And I do think you’re an attractive guy, don’t get me wrong, but somehow I just didn’t- wait what?”

Kris: “Umm… I didn’t feel the chemistry either.”

Me: “Wait a second, are you serious? Oh wait, hahahaha, it’s a joke, I get it, good one.”

Kris: “Oh, yea, it’s a joke. Um… Sure. Let’s just order.”

Me: “Because I’m cuter than you, so it doesn’t make any sense for you to say that there wasn’t any chemistry.”

Kris: “Aww man, uh, yes, you’re right…?”

Me: “That doesn’t sound sincere at all.”

Kris: “Tim, you’re a cool guy, and I’m sure you’ll find your match one day.”

Me: “Well, you should feel like you really let ‘the one’ get away and have a few regrets or something.”

Kris: “I sure have a few regrets right now.”

Me: “Good, so you can finally move on to the healing phase.”

Kris: “Um, yea, thanks for helping me along.”

Me: “Alright.”

Kris: “Ok.”

<pause>

Me: “Oh GOD! Whyyy!?!?! Whyyyy God?!!? I thought you liked me!! Even the guys I dump have no interest in me!! Why doesn’t anyone looove me?!?!?”

Kris: “Oh shit! Umm, I’m sure in certain cultures, your look is appreciated.”

Me: “Don’t you patronize me! I dumped you! Ok? Got it? If any of our mutual friends ask-

Kris: “We don’t have any mutual friends.”

Me: “Well if ANYone asks, I dumped YOU, and you let me win this one.”

Kris: “Um, that’s fine. Ok. Let’s just eat or something.”

Me: “I got it! Waitress! Waitress, over here!”

Waitress: “Ready to order?”

Me: “Yea in a minute. Hey, which one of us do you think is cuter?”

Waitress: “…Umm, what?”

Me: “Like, if you had to date us, who would you choose?”

Waitress: “Is this going to affect my tip at all?”

Me: “Oh don’t worry, you’ll still get your 10%.”

Waitress: “Great… umm, it’s hard for me to decide.”

Me: “Well just think of what you initially thought when you came over here.”

Waitress: “I think I probably thought you were both the same.”

Me: “No, no no no no, you can be honest. Like, when you saw us from afar, didn’t you think, wow, what is this cute guy doing with this nobody?”

Waitress: “Actually, I’m beginning to find you less attractive.”

Me: “Oh, then pretend I didn’t talk.”

Waitress: “I guess I’ll have to go with your friend.”

Kris: “Aww shucks.”

Me: “Why are you lying?”

Waitress: “Sorry, but your words really left an impression.”

Kris: “Come on, let’s just order.”

Me: “Fine.”

Waitress: “To be perfectly honest, neither of you are really my type.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Kris: “That’s perfectly natural, not everyone’s a good mix.”

Me: “I lost my appetite.”

Kris: “Oh, ok then, I can order something.”

Me: “No, let’s just go. The atmosphere here is abhorable and overweight.”

Waitress: “Excuse me?”

Me: “All I’m trying to say is that if a certain waitress was an actress who’s just waiting tables on the side, she should stick to her day job, because she’s about 50 pounds too heavy for the silver-“

Kris: “OK! Let’s get out of here!”

~And they lived happily ever after. (Separately). The end.

Top Or Bottom?

So I was talking to a guy the other day and the subject came up. Again. I’m 26 btw. I’ve had this discussion at least a thousand times.

Justin: “Are you a top or bottom?”

Me: “I’m not sure.”

Justin: “Well most Asians are bottoms.”

Me: “Is that a fact?”

Justin: “Bottoming feels so good. You can get a better orgasm once your prostate is massaged.”

Me: “So you like it?”

Justin: “Oh hell no! I hate it! I can’t stand it, I tried it before and it felt awful.”

Me: “But you expect me to like it?”

Justin: “Well, I’m a top.”

Me: “I’ve been fingered before. I found it excruciating and painful.”

Justin: “You didn’t give it a chance, it takes some getting used to.”

Me: “I’m sure it does.”

Justin: “Yea, you just have to try it first.”

Me: “How long did you try it for before you realized you didn’t like it?”

Justin: “Like five seconds.”

Me: “So, if we ever became intimate, I would spend the time and effort to learn to bottom for you, but… you wouldn’t do that for me?”

Justin: “Well, I’m a top.”

Me: “Isn’t that just another way of saying that you’re selfish?”

Justin: “Where are you getting that from??”

Me: “What if I want to do both? I’ll bottom for you so you can get off, but I also want to top.”

Justin: “Obviously this isn’t going to work out.”

Me: “I guess not.”

Justin: “You’re the selfish one.”

Me: “What??”

Justin: “You want it all, top and bottom. Why don’t you just pick one?”

Me: “Alright, fine. I pick top.”

Justin: “This has been a complete waste of time.”

Me: “I’ll say.”

Justin: “You’re retarded.”

Me: “Fuck you.”

Justin: “You wish.”

Me: “Ugh, you wish too!”

Justin: “Yea, well when I do, I’ll wish for a bigger butt.”

Me: “Yea and when I do I’ll wish for a guy that didn’t remind me of a Spastic Cerebral Palsy victim.”

Justin: “Oh, real mature, making fun of my looks.”

Me: “Yea, I’m so bad.”

Justin: “You are.”

Me: “Are you crazy? You started first.”

Justin: “Whatever.”

Me: “Good luck finding a bottom you sissy.”

Justin: “Yea, good luck finding a top you dumbass.”

Me: “You mean bottom.”

Justin: “Whatever.”

Me: “Try paying attention.”

Justin: “Try sucking my dick.”

Me: “Try a penis pump.”

Justin: “I can’t use those, I’m uncut.”

Me: “Then try something else.”

Justin: “Screw you.”

Me: “Like you can.”

Justin: “If I did, I’d think of someone with a bigger butt.”

Me: “You said that already.”

Justin: “What are you talking about?”

Me: “Nevermind, retard.”

Justin: “Yea, make fun of the autistics, you immature bastard.”

Me: “Go suck a dick.”

Justin: “You go.”

Me: “Good one.”

Justin: “Shut up.”

Me: “See ya you mental patient.”

Justin: “Talk to you later, NOT.”

Me: “Yea, work on those knock knock jokes too while you’re at it.”

Justin: “What? You don’t make sense.”

Me: “Nevermind.”

Justin: “Imbecile.”

Me: “I know you are, but what am I?”

Justin: “Yea, that’s real mature.”

Me: “NOT.”

Ok, so the top/bottom discussions don’t ALWAYS go like this. Usually, there’s a lot more cussing.

The end.

Dumped in Two Days

I think the title pretty much speaks for itself. But I guess I should elaborate.

Before I do, let’s have an update with Jonathan Lil Nastie, the feature of my last blog. Ooobviously I stretched the truth a lot in that one. I even talked about it with him.

Jonathan: “Your blog was funny by the way.”

Tim: “If memory serves me right, I think I brought up the subject first, to see if you even read it.”

Jonathan: “Yea, but you sound way cooler if I brought it up first, that way it’s like people actually read this crap.”

Tim: “Exactly. Ok, go on.”

Jonathan: “So yea, it was SO funny, my god, you should be a comedy writer on a hit show, like According to Jim.”

Tim: “You like that show, don’t you?”

Jonathan: “Yes, but my favorite has to be 2 And A Half Men.”

Tim: “That’s your general taste in television, right?”

Jonathan: “Yes. By the way Tim, thanks for making me sound like such a douchebag.”

Tim: “Well, you did dump me.”

Jonathan: “Technically, I didn’t dump you. I just never responded to your inane text messages or your essay length facebook letters.”

Tim: “So it’s only right that I now deem you a fan of Jim and Charlie Sheen.”

Jonathan: “Jim might be poetic justice, but Charlie Sheen is just cruel and unusual punishment.”

Tim: “Hey, at least the guy abused Denise Richards.”

Jonathan: “Only verbally.”

Tim: “See all this rapport? Why didn’t you like it? Why didn’t you like us?”

Jonathan: “Well, Tim, first of all, this rapport is in your head. This conversation never actually happened.”

Tim: “It’s just so us to have these cute little arguments.”

Jonathan: “I don’t remember ever arguing with you.”

Tim: “Just go with it.”

Jonathan: “Tim, stick to your original point.”

Tim: “Oh yea, so you said you liked the blog, and then I said, ‘You know it didn’t actually happen like that, right?’”

Jonathan: “And then I said, ‘I know, I was there.’”

Tim: “Good, so this way it can confirm for everyone that I’m not actually the nutjob I described in my blog.”

Jonathan: “But you’re still sort of a nutjob.”

Tim: “What? You can’t say that to me! I will edit you out of this blog so fast-”

Jonathan: “But you already have a page typed. This is great material you got here. That douchebag remark will go down in time as a classic.”

Tim: “But I didn’t say that, you did…”

Jonathan: “I know.”

Tim: “I hope you never find love, you bastard.”

Jonathan: “Hey, want me to paste those facebook messages you sent to me for everyone to see?”

Tim: “No no no nonononono I take it back I take it back, find love, find love, I hope you do, good luck!”

Well it took me about a month to get over Jonny and now we can talk about the second guy who dumped me this summer, in record speed.

I remember calling Red on Wednesday:

“The date is going so well! I like him so much!”

And Red saying: “Call me when I’m in class again only if you’re dying.”

And then on Thursday I said:

“Don’t bring up the date when you get home. I got dumped.”

And Red said: “Already?”

Oh, his name is, well, I’ll disguise it a little, “Adam Macho.” He was really nice, fun, and extremely hot. You know, he and Jonathan should get together. Maybe I could do what Miss Match did, in that Alicia Silverstone show that flopped. I never saw an episode of it, but I knew the concept. Basically, I can go out with guys, get dumped by them, and be a perfect matchmaker by putting them together. The only problem I can see is that by the time I’ve been dumped 6 more times I’ll probably jump out my window. But it wouldn’t kill me since jumping out of a trailer can’t do much damage.

Adam and I had a fun time, well, in my POV. Obviously, he must have been miserable the whole time since he left me to die old and alone. But that’s besides the point.

I crack myself up.

Anyway, so we met on this site called plentyoffish.com. It’s a piece of shit, because in order to use themes, you have to have 5000 points, and you get like, 100 a day or something, right. So at the time I met Adam, I had 4700 points. I almost made it to get the blue beach theme I wanted soooo bad. Of course after he dumped me, I had to get rid of everything that reminded me of him, including plentyoffish. I think the real tragedy here is that I never got my theme. Fucking men. They take everything from you. Your youth, your faith. Your beach theme. But I’m not mad at him. I still really like him, hahaha. If he called me up right now and said:

Adam: “Tim, I made a really big mistake. I need you back.”

Tim: “But what about your ex? Aren’t you trying to get back with him?”

Adam: “Well, yea, but, I still need you too.”

Tim: “You expect me to be with you while you’re in love with another man?”

Adam: “…Yeah.”

Tim: “Okay!”

Adam: “Great, so let’s get together tomorrow.”

Tim: “We can go see that new movie.”

Adam: “Oh, no, I’m watching the movie with my ex. I just need you to drive us there.”

Tim: “Oh… alright. I guess.”

Adam: “You can do something else in the area while we watch the movie.”

Tim: “Yea, umm, I’ve been meaning to write my novel. I guess I could bring a notepad with me and get started on that.”

Adam: “You can pretty much do anything besides have sex, because I know you’re no good at it.”

Tim: “Shhhhh don’t TELL everyone!”

Adam: “Oh whoops. I can see how that could be embarrassing. Hey, at least you were lucky enough to get to sleep with me.”

Tim: “I feel lucky.”

Adam: “Remember when I told you you should see a therapist?”

Tim: “Like it was yesterday.”

Adam: “It was yesterday.”

Tim: “So pick you up at 8?”

Adam: “That’ll be great, see you tomorrow.”

And that is exactly how it would play out. But joking aside, Adam was a really great guy. And like all great guys, they want nothing to do with me after fulfilling a quota of approximately 14 hours in my presence.

Tim: “You know what I hate the most?”

Adam: “Make it quick, I’m a sexy guy.”

Tim: “I hate that I still have a ton of food that we bought together. And it’s going to take me a while to finish it all. And every time I eat some of it, I think of you.”

Adam: “You know what I hate? Parking tickets. Fucking PoPos.”

Tim: “I also hate that I wish you really did call me, and that I’ll remember you forever, and you’ll forget me.”

Adam: “If I were you, you know what I’d hate most? That I told you to ‘take care’ in response to that long good bye letter you sent after I dumped you.”

Tim: “Yes, that was also quite dreadful. But I’ll always remember the good things, like when you held my hand for the first time at the space show. Did you like that too?”

Adam: “It was to die for. Sure.”

Tim: You know, maybe I’m not really ready to make light out of this yet.”

Adam: “Yea, I’ll bet you’re sitting in your room right now, playing that song that you played while we were in your car, on a continuous loop, reminiscing about me.”

Tim: “Hey, stay in character, we’re supposed to be together right now, chatting.”

Adam: “Everyone knows you’re just talking to yourself. All alone.”

Tim: “I should throw a pity party for myself.”

Adam: “You know what one good thing about that would be?”

Tim: “What?”

Adam: “At least you’ll already have food for the event.”

You know, whoever said “It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have been loved at all” must have been the one who blew off a lot of lovers. I bet he wasn’t on the receiving end of the rejection. If he were, the quote might have been something more like: “It’s better to have never been born than to be aborted at all.”

Or something like that.

And another one bites the dust.

Jonathan Lil Nastie

So lately, I went on a date with a new guy, Jonathan Lil Nastie. Here’s how it pretty much went down:

Tim: “So, we’re pretty much like boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?”

Jonathan: “Um, Tim, this is our first date.”

Tim: “Oh, so, we’re not?”

Jonathan: “It’s only been ten minutes.”

Tim: “Yea I guess we should look at the menu first.”

Jonathan: “That’s a good idea.”

<Tim looks at the menu momentarily.>

Tim: “So how do we know when we’re going to be boyfriends?”

Jonathan: “I don’t know for sure.”

Tim: “Guesstimate.”

Jonathan: “I don’t know, maybe in like 10 or 20 dates?”

Tim: “Let’s say 10.”

Jonathan: “That sounds fine. I think I’m gonna go with the ravioli.”

Tim: “So basically if we go out every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, plus weekends, we’d be boyfriends in less than 2 weeks, right?”

Jonathan: “Well, you can’t really put a schedule on love.”

Tim: “You’re right, it can happen even faster. I mean, Jack and Rose fell in love in three days flat. Let’s see, it’s Friday tonight, so by Sunday we can start saying ‘I’ll never let go.’ I’ll never let go Jonny.”

Jonathan: “Do you talk about this kind of stuff on all your first dates?”

Tim: “Usually I gloss over it on the phone before I meet up with a guy.”

Jonathan: “And you said you don’t date much, right?”

Tim: “Yea, a lot of guys’ grandmothers usually die right before I get to meet up with them, so it’s always been a case of bad timing.”

Jonathan: “I bet.”

Tim: “Wait, don’t get the ravioli. Let’s get the spaghetti and share it and do the Lady and the Tramp thing.”

Jonathan: “Uh, we’re not doing that…”

—

Don’t you wish there was a little more dialogue? There would have been, but to my utter surprise, Jonathan received a message that his grandmother died and had to leave shortly after my spaghetti idea. I think he knows some form of telepathy or has some kind of psychic connection to his kin, because his phone didn’t actually ring when he received the message, he kind of just muttered something and stood up from his chair and left really, really abruptly. Weird, right?? I wonder how people can go into a date with such an odd agenda.

Lol in all seriousness, Jonathan would totally do the Lady and the Tramp thing, it would be ME who would probably say no bc I don’t want to get marinara sauce all over my chin.

So yea, I’m writing a new blog bc a guy actually decided to go on a date with me. I told myself, Tim, you are not writing anything until you have a new experience, because all your blogs have been the same. It’s always “Tim stayed home all weekend. Tim didn’t get laid. Tim is a loser.” I mean, this Tim Timato character was just getting repetitive and boring… lol, “character.”

Yea… Because I’m not like that at all in real life…

—

Let’s move fast forward to a nice scene from the bedroom:

—

<Jonathan and Tim stare at each other in bed for a while.>

Jonathan: “I think you’re cute.”

Tim: “I guess that’s my cue, to uh, maybe kiss you now?”

Jonathan: “Yea.”

<They make out for a bit>

Tim: “Does that mean that from now on, I can kiss you whenever I feel like it?”

Jonathan: “Uh, I guess so.”

Tim: “What if you’re like, busy making stool, and I really feel like making out with you.”

Jonathan: “Umm, you’ll probably have to wait until after.”

Tim: “We can chalk that up to a rare case of inappropriate timing.”

Jonathan: “Yea. Hey I think we’re losing our moment here.”

Tim: “Oh yea, whoops. Uh, shall we resume?”

Jonathan: “Let’s try to get in the mood naturally.”

Tim: “Okay.”

<There is a pause>

Tim: “Should I set a timer on my phone?”

Jonathan: “No, just wait for it to happen.”

Tim: “I actually think it’ll be kind of fun. Like, I’ll input a bunch of random alarms into my phone, and every time it rings, we have to start making out.”

Jonathan: “I guess we could do that later, but let’s focus on right now.”

Tim: “I’m glad you find me attractive btw.”

Jonathan: “No problem.”

—

Ok, now for more fun. Let’s rewind time a bit to BEFORE the date.

—

<At the club>

Tim: “Hey, I’m Tim.”

Jonathan: “I’m Jonathan, nice to meet you.”

Tim: “Are you Jewish?”

Jonathan: “Umm, no…”

Tim: “Oh, wanna exchange phone numbers?”

Jonathan: “I don’t have a phone.”

Tim: “That square imprint in your pocket isn’t a phone?”

Jonathan: “Oh! Uh, yea, that is my phone. I thought I forgot it at home.”

Tim: “You’d forget your head if it weren’t attached, silly.”

Jonathan: (under his breath) “Aww man, do I really have to do this?”

Tim: “What was that?”

Jonathan: “I said cool man, let’s do this.”

Tim: “Ok, so tell me your number and I’ll give you a call.”

<He does>

<12 hours later>

<Jonathan picks up his phone>

Tim: “Hey Jonathan.”

Jonathan: “Hi Tim.”

Tim: “We met last night, remember?”

Jonathan: “Yea, I remember.”

Tim: “What took you so long to pick up?”

Jonathan: “Well after 17 missed calls I figured I had no other choice.”

Tim: “Hahaha, was it really 17? That’s kind of bordering harassment, right?”

Jonathan: “Bordering. Yea.”

Tim: “So wanna go out tonight?”

Jonathan: “I might have dance rehearsal tonight.”

Tim: “That’s cool, I could meet you there and see your friends too.”

Jonathan: “NO! I mean, uh, that’s not a good idea, because, uh, the building doesn’t allow visitors, I think I’ll just meet you instead.”

Tim: “What are you going to wear?”

Jonathan: “Umm, I don’t know, a T shirt and shorts.”

Tim: “Let’s coordinate our outfits to look the same.”

Jonathan: “Uh, I don’t think that’s a really good idea.”

Tim: “It’ll be fun. Then everyone will know we’re friends.”

Jonathan: “Umm, I’m actually at my cousin’s house now, so I only have one extra outfit with me in my bag, and I don’t think it’s a common style.”

Tim: “It’s ok, I’ll just buy something like it at the store.”

Jonathan: “I don’t think the store I got it from is available… in America.”

Tim: “Really?? What’s the store called.”

Jonathan: “Umm… It’s called… Uhh… Brazilian Hot Topic.”

Tim: “Darn. I guess we’ll just have to find some other way to look cool.”

Jonathan: “Yea, I’m bummed out too. Ok, I’ll see you tonight.”

—

And you already know how the rest of it played out. So yea, now you’re completely caught up with my life. Anyway, leave some comments on this one, including something about the new direction I am taking the “Tim” character (even more socially maladjusted/severely mentally disabled).

*After proofreading this, I actually DON’T like the direction and will revert back to the less annoying version, hahaha.

There’s Something About Willy

*I decided to delete my post about Mark until I improve it. For now, enjoy this post as its replacement:

Ok this isn’t a story about the Will from last time. At some point in my life, I had hooked up with this guy named Willy. Sort of. Actually, he just looks like this other guy who I had met, named Willy, so I will use it to disguise his true identity. Anyway.

[Somehow, we start making out at his place.]

Me: “Umm, I actually can’t make out with you.”

Willy: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, you have a boyfriend.”

Willy: “Ok.”

Me: “I just don’t want 2 people’s spit in my mouth.”

Willy: “Ok…”

[Willy proceeds to use his tongue on my body. As always, I try to fall asleep.]

Willy: “Now do some dirty talk.

[I wake up immediately.]

Me: “Come again?”

Willy: “Yea, just like that, keep going.”

Me: “No, I mean, uhh, what?”

Willy: “Dirty talk. Do some dirty talk.”

Me: “Oh. Ok. Umm… That’s a nice thing you’re doing there.”

Willy: “Come on, dirtier.”

[Willy proceeds to go down]

Me: “Oh, that is really not bad.”

Willy: “You like the way I suck your cock.”

Me: “Yes. It is truly an experience.”

Willy: “Want me to play with your balls.”

Me: “It’s up to you really.”

Willy: “Dirty. Make it dirty.”

Me: “Balls are dirty.”

Willy: “Right, keep going.”

Me: “Oh, yes, keep licking my private area.”

Willy: “How does it feel?”

Me: “It feels sort of invasive and awkward.”

Willy: “You’ve never talked dirty before, have you?”

Me: “I thought we agreed we were just going to cuddle.”

Willy: “Nevermind. Keep trying.”

Me: “Umm… so…”

Willy: “Ok now you do me.”

[Willy shows Tim his Willy]

Me: “Oh it’s okay, I already had a big dinner.”

Willy: “I’m not asking you to eat my cock. Just suck it.”

[Tim tries the virgin card]

Me: “Well, you know, since I’m only 19, I’ve never actually done this before, and it is just too much for me right now.”

Willy: “It’s not even that big, come on.”

Tim: “It’s almost average sized, don’t sell yourself short.”

Willy: “Thanks. Just lick it then.”

Tim: “Uhhh… I guess… I have to…”

[Tim closes his eyes and sticks out his tongue. He gives the penis a tiny lick and then backs off, repulsed, as if a puppy took a lick of another dog’s shit by accident.]

Willy: “Mmm, keep going at it baby.”

[Tim notices that Willy closed his eyes. Tim uses his hand and yanks on Willy’s thing for a bit, instead of using his mouth. Tim thinks he’s slick.]

Willy: “Come on, suck it.”

[Tim wants to go home and watch Avatar]

Willy: “Come on, talk dirty.”

Tim: “How am I supposed to suck your dick and talk at the same time?”

Willy: “Well you’re not exactly sucking anything. Even though I did you.”

Tim: “Hey, you did that on your own free will, Willy. Freee Wiiilly!”

Willy: “Right. Ok I’ll just do you again.”

Tim: “No, don’t, you don’t have to.”

Willy: “I want to. Just talk dirty to me.”

Tim: “Ok sure.”

Willy: “You have a nice big cock.”

Tim: “Why thank you. You know, it’s really just average sized, but I’m lucky so many men out there aren’t even average so mine just seems big.”

Willy: “Yea, keep talking about your cock.”

Tim: “That’s pretty much all there is to say about it.”

Willy: “Say something dirty.”

Tim: “Something dirty. Ha.”

Willy: “You’re not really good at this, are you?”

Tim: “What? The dirty talk?”

Willy: “No, all of it.”

Tim: “Ok, this is going in my blog.”

Willy: “What?”

Tim: “Nevermind. What do you mean, I’m not good at it? I totally did some good dirty talk back there.”

Willy: “No you didn’t. Anyway, keep trying.”

Tim: “Oh, I thought we already finished.”

Willy: “What are you talking about?”

Tim: “Well, I already came.”

Willy: “What? No you didn’t.”

Tim: “Oh, when I come, it’s like, no actual cum comes out because, well, my doctor said that my testicles do not produce semen, so when I come, it’s like nothing even comes out, but I’ve came anyway.”

Willy: “Are you serious? You didn’t even make a noise.”

Tim: “Yea, since there is no semen or anything, there’s no need for me to get theatrical about it.”

Willy: “Well I didn’t come yet.”

Tim: “I thought you did.”

Willy: “Nope.”

Tim: “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought you came like me or something.”

Willy: “I don’t know anyone who comes like you.”

Tim: “I find that my way is the most sanitary way to do it.”

Willy: “You’re a real character. Anyway keep talking dirty to me so I can cum.”

Tim: “Really? You want me to talk more?”

Willy: “You need the practice. Go on.”

Tim: “Ok. Umm. Jerk that meat. One two three! Gooo meat!!”

Willy: “Damn Tim you don’t have to be a cheerleader about it.”

Tim: “I’m trying to figure out a good angle to approach this.”

Willy: “Stop thinking so much. Don’t you watch porn?”

Tim: “Yea. Ok I got a good one. Ok. Here I go. Oh uhh, baby, keep tugging that thing of yours and climax at some point.”

Willy: “That was your good one?”

Tim: “More dirty, right? Ok. Let me see. Oh, baby, when you jerk off, I don’t feel bored at all. Instead, I feel like I am watching a movie with no real plot or-“

Willy: “Tim! Come on!”

Tim: “Ok! Umm, uhh, oh, Willy, what you are doing is so hot.”

Willy: “That’s better. Keep going.”

Tim: “It’s so hot, it almost makes me forget how cold it will be when I make my way home later. It’s a good thing I bought those gloves-

[Finally, Willy cums all over himself. Tim is relieved.]

Willy: “Whew, that was good.”

Tim: “Really? You thought that was good?”

Willy: “My coming was good. Your dirty talk still needs some work.”

Tim: “Ha, that’s an understatement.”

Willy: “I don’t want to discourage you from trying.”

Tim: “You’re a real nice guy.”

Willy: “You’ll get it down some day.”

Tim: “I think all that ejaculating has made you delirious.”

Willy: “Why don’t you focus all your energy on kidding around into something sexual.”

Tim: “Hey, so you think my jokes are any good?”

Willy: “Did I laugh once?”

Tim: “No, not really.”

Willy: “Well, there you go, haha.”

Tim: “Dick!”

Willy: “I’m just kidding, no, your jokes were good. Kind of inappropriate for what we were doing, but it’s not bad.”

Tim: “Maybe I should start up a comedy routine every time I hook up with a guy.”

Willy: “No, I don’t think so.”

Tim: “It’s so much easier than talking dirty though.”

Willy: “You just need more practice. Keep going out, keep meeting people.”

Tim: “Well, I am going to Chuck E. Cheese tomorrow.”

Willy: “Uh, I didn’t mean there.”

Tim: “Ha. Anyway, I’m gonna go out and find a cab.”

Willy: “I’ll take you.”

And Willy came out and helped me find a cab a few blocks away.

And they lived happily ever after.