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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.

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.

*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.

So I’m sort of talking to someone in emails who lives across the country. Ugh I hate this. I can’t really talk about it because… he reads my blog too. I can’t really put my feelings down the way I used to because Tim Timato isn’t anonymous anymore. I mean what if I write stuff like “Oh well I feel like this guy could be it, but I also feel kind of inferior to him, like, once he sees through the smoke and mirrors, he’s going to leave me when he realizes he can do better.” I mean, I don’t want him to know my insecurities and shit.

I am going to be 26 this year, and I still didn’t have anything that even resembled a High School relationship. I used to think I should start lying about my age or something, but I hate lying! Not because I am morally against it, but I am just a shitty liar. And besides, I can always tell when people lie about their damn age. Just this weekend, I got friended by some guy who is supposedly “28.” I call bullshit. If anything, he looks AT LEAST 10 years older. Hell, I’d believe him if he were 15 years older than his listed age. I kind of feel bad if he’s actually 28 though and he just looks old.

I tried to lie about my age once to get out of sex. Yea, you know how most people do it to have sex? I do for the opposite reason. I figure if I scale myself down low enough, the guy might feel guilty for wanting to have sex with me because he’s way older. Obviously, the whole lying about my age to make myself younger had more of an opposite effect. Guys get even more excited when I tell them I’m 19. But like I said, I’m a terrible liar.

Guy: “So do you have any siblings?”

Me: “Yea, I have a younger sister.”

Guy: “How old is she?”

Me: “She’s 22.”

Guy: “What? You must be lying about your own age.”

Me: “No, I’m 19.”

Guy: “But your sister is 22.”

Me: “No, I said she’s 32.”

Guy: “I’m pretty sure I heard you say 22.”

Me: “Really? Are you sure?”

Guy: “Anyway, you said she’s your younger sister. And she’s 32?”

Me: “No, I said she’s my older sister.”

Guy: “I’m sure you said younger.”

Me: “I’m sure I said older. Hey, should we start undressing?”

Guy: “Oh yea, of course.”

Me: “Works every time.”

Guy: “What?”

Me: “What?”

Guy: “Did you just say ‘works every time’?”

Me: “No, I said I have to go to work every time, like, every time it’s time for work.”

Guy: “What does that have anything to do with what we’re doing?”

Me: “What are we doing? We’re just going to sleep, right? No funny business.”

Guy: “Wait, you don’t want to have sex?”

Me: “Well, I’m a virgin. I know I’m a bit old to be a virgin-“

Guy: “How old exactly?”

Me: “19. I mean, most of my friends have been having sex since they were 9.”

Guy: “What??”

Me: “I mean 12.”

Guy: “You know Kevin, you’re a terrible liar.”

Me: “Who?”

Guy: “What?”

Me: “Oh yea, I gave you my joke name, ha. Um, I’m just kidding.”

Guy: “What are you talking about? A joke name?”

Me: “It’s nothing.”

Guy: “Let me see your ID.”

Me: “What? Let me see yours!”

Guy: “Fine.”

[Tim/Kevin takes the ID]

Me: “Wow, you really are 34.”

Guy: “Yea. So?”

Me: “I thought you were older.”

Guy: “Thanks.”

Me: “Ha, aren’t you going to tell me to get out?”

Guy: “No, I like you.”

Me: “Really? Even after all these sort of lies?”

Guy: “Well I knew you were lying, so I don’t mind.”

Me: “How did you know??”

Guy: “It’s really obvious.”

Me: “So you knew I was lying when I told you your shirt looked nice?”

Guy: “Actually, I thought you were telling the truth then…”

Me: “Oh, I was.”

Guy: “No you weren’t.”

Me: “In my own funny way, aren’t I kind of abusive?”

Guy: “Yea, but it’s not really funny.”

Me: “But you’re still putting up with it. Gee, I wonder why.”

Guy: “What? It’s not a bad thing that I like you.”

Me: “I think we should start off as friends first.”

Guy: “Sure.”

[guy starts touching me]

Me: “I am going to be totally honest. I think we should know each other first before we, you know, do stuff.”

Guy: “Ok.”

[guy lays next to Tim for a while]

Me: “You never saw my ID.”

Guy: “Oh let me see it.”

Me: “I don’t have one.”

[guy just lays there for a while. Guy starts molesting Tim]

Me: …

[Tim pretends to be asleep] [Not much happens] [Next day]

Me: “Hey good morning, I have to get up really early and do something today.”

Guy: “It’s 2 in the afternoon.”

Me: “Uh, yea, you know what I meant.”

Guy: “You wanna see a movie sometime?”

Me: “Yea, some time.”

And then I go home.

I know that dialogue doesn’t really paint a good picture of me, so let me reaffirm that most of the stuff that’s said in my blog is fictional. Yea… that dialogue wasn’t me at all… haha.

Uninspired

So Peter told me on Friday that my blog sucks lately and he didn’t even read the last one. I have to admit, my last couple of blogs  were rejected ideas I had in the past, before my Sebastian blog. My writing teacher always told me that I had to write even when I wasn’t inspired. So I put up those uninspired posts anyway. What did he know! Now my readership dropped below 50% and it’s slowly getting lower! I guess I believe anyone hot. That’s right, I had a crush on my writing teacher, Mr. Jason Lucero.

Since I remembered his name, I figured I’d see if he has a facebook. He does!! But his pic isn’t on it, damn it. I know he has a wife and all but come on, at least put your picture up so your former uh, male students can lust for you.

Well, I was trying to write a blog last night that turned out pretty bad. I was toying around with the idea of hot guys talking to each other. Downelinkers know how hot guys talk. They always say something real short like “thx.” So I wondered what it would be like if two hot guys spoke to each other and where the “conversation” could possibly go (remember when reading that this blog SUCKS):

Hot guy 1: “Hey bro u hot.”

Hot guy 2: “thx”

Hot guy 1: “I can totally tell ur hotta than me bro.”

Hot guy 2: “dude thx”

Hot guy 1: “U no how I no?”

Hot guy 2: “?”

Hot guy 1: “I still capitalize the first word in my sentences, generally spell betta, and use punctuation in the end.”

Hot guy 2: “Wait a sec, are you that Tim dude?”

Hot guy 1/Tim: “Yea. I was just trying to get your attention.”

Hot guy 2: “What did you do with your pic? Use photoshop or something?”

Tim: “I put my head over Jean Claude Van Damn’s body.”

Hot guy 2: “It’s Damme*.”

Tim: “Sorry.”

Hot guy 2: “Okay, well, we have to stop talking now. I spend a lot of time and effort coming off nonchalant so please don’t do this again.”

Tim: “Could you give me some advice on how to be more like you?”

Hot guy 2: “Just don’t spell anything write and when you’re asked questions, pretend you didn’t see them and generally respond with half assed/semi-retarded remarks.”

Tim: “Semi-retarded, that should be easy for me. Ha.”

Hot guy 2: “Yea, no, that Tim Timato stuff doesn’t work on ripped guys like me.”

Tim: “Dam it.”

Hot guy 2: “Damn* and Tim, word of advice.”

Tim: “Yea?”

Hot guy 2: “You never go full retard.”

Tim: “Hahaha, you know, you have a great sense of humor.”

Hot guy 2: “I know. I also went to Yale, make six figures, and my pics pretty much speak for themselves.”

Tim: “Will I ever hear from you again?”

Hot guy 2: “Give me a buzz when you get Jean Claude’s body.”

Tim: “But that will never happen!”

Hot guy 2: “Then uh, I guess you’ll never hear from me again. Talk about answering your own question. Ha.”

Tim: “Hey, do you actually read my blog?”

Hot guy 2: “No, your story is inconsistent. Peace out bro.”

Ok, I know this blog is as dismal as the punchline to Anne Frank’s diary, but here’s what: I’ve covered everything from midgets to scat, and I have to keep coming up with more shit. It’s not easy, ok? I just want all my fans to hang in there and be a little more dedicated. Be a little more Jimmy and a little less Peter.

So this weekend I did absolutely nothing but stay home and sleep because I think I’m not feeling well. Since I have no real story to report on, I decided to make one up with myself. I started remembering the time I went swimming a few weeks back when I saw like, one of the hottest guys ever. Hell he was fuckin’ fiiiine. Everything- his body, his face, his shorts, everything. I mean, I would do anything for this dude. Literally. Just how far would I go?

“Go animal crazy licking his hot bod?”

Fuck yea!

“Massage the hell out of those biceps, chest and ass + other less important muscles like calves and triceps?”

Fuck yea!

“Make out with him for friggin’ 2-3 hours or whenever our salivating glands give out?”

Fuck yea!

“Blow the hell out of him like sucking nails off a goddamn board?”

Fuck yea!

“Let him fuck the hell out of you all night long at the 100% risk of incurring some serious injury?”

Fuck yea!

“Let him pee on you?”

Ok!

“You pee on him?”

Fuck yea!

“Toss his salad even having zero experience doing it but will do so regardless with more enthusiasm than a 6-year-old boy has during his first time at Disneyworld?”

Fuck yea!

“Scat?”

Fuck-…

“Scat?”

…Umm…

“Scat, Tim. Will you do scat?”

Uh… I don’t know about that one.

“Let’s put it this way, if you don’t do scat with this dude, you don’t get to do all the other stuff either.”

But like, besides the poor taste, what if I get like worms or something?

“It’s going to taste like shit Tim. But I’m sure the doctor can prescribe you some antibiotics for the bacteria. So how about it?”

I know he’s hot, but… Are we talking just like a nibble of it or like a pebble full?

“I’m talking a ‘two girls one cup’ kind of size.”

Oh hell nooo! Oh hell!! Fuck no, man, fuck fucking nooo.

“Ok, ok, I’m flexible. What if I give you a cup of his crap, and right next to it, are like these magic pills that will instantly take away the bad aftertaste and whatever diseases the poop might have in it. Then would you do it?”

Umm… I mean, if they’re instant… I don’t know… Maybe I could pretend it’s chocolate ice cream, no, what am I talking about, I can’t do it!”

“Come on, just think about how hot he is. I mean, all you gotta do to score this hottie is just, uh, eat shit.”

You know what, I’m going to have to go with no.

“How about he marries you afterward?”

Ok.

“Ok what?”

Ok I’ll eat the shit.

“Really? Just like that?”

Yea, I mean come on, tons of people do scat for nothin’. I’m getting a marriage out of this. That means no more lame dates, no more bad sex, no more of that clubbing bull.

“So you’d eat shit to get married?”

Magic. Pills.

“What about the principle of it all?”

Unless you’re already hot yourself, I bet anyone would do it.

“I made the deal a little too lucrative, didn’t I?”

Hell fucking yea man. Hell, I’d eat five cups of shit to get married. With the magic pills, of course.

“What about without?”

I’d have to think about it.

“What if you have to eat his crap for the rest of your life because that’s what he’s into?”

Why are you changing the rules so much? Now you know I’ll say no.

“Come on, after a few times I’m sure you would have like an acquired taste for it.”

No hottie is worth acquiring the taste of shit, sorry.

“You’ll practically have immunity after the first dozen times.”

I said no already, jeez. The cons outweigh the pros, bro.

“Those two girls sure enjoyed it in that video.”

Let them marry him then. He’s a sick fuckin’ guy is what he is.

“Ok Tim, it’s time to stop talking to yourself.”

Ok, ttyl.

“One last thing, seriously though, for all of your too-curious-readers, would you really do one cup of scat to get married?”

No.

“What if it’s James Guardino?”

I’d have to think about it.

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