Joseph

I have never been into pretty boys.  Guys who pluck their eyebrows, shave their entire bodies, get highlights, go tanning, etc etc.  I chuckle at and heckle the types with the multiple identity crisis tattoos.  The Native tribal, the Chinese/Japanese characters, the barb wire arm band, a Bible verse with a cross and their family crest in Old English Calligraphy (and their last name doesn't match the name on the crest).  They worry about their weight/physique and work out only to look good.  It's exhausting dating these high maintenance types.  But apparently I still hadn't learned my lesson and somehow Joseph found me.
I happened to be driving by his work and stopped to use the restroom, when he drove in with a mutual friend.  He was able to successfully find me on Facebook and the online stalking began.  I was still getting to know him, and to my surprise was somehow attracted to him through all of his stories about bull riding, jumping through the sunroof of one car into the other while driving down the interstate at 65 miles per hour.  It really turned me on and I knew right then and there I had to have his babies.  No other man's DNA would suffice.  I firmly believe in survival of the fittest, and if he survived jumping through those sunroofs, surely it was a sign. Then he told me about his college football days, the steroids, the 39 concussions, the fame, glory and Friday night lights.  And I knew he was the one.
He was very nice, respectful of women.  He insisted on referring to people by "ma'am" or "sir" more than a South Carolinian military officer.  He had excellent taste in jewelry.  He had coordinating gold chains for every one of his t-shirt that advertised how desperate he was.  "Looking for a serious one night relationship," or "My mom says I'm a catch," type of wardrobe.  Needless to say, he managed to pick out some great jewelry for me.
At some point I realized I need to test this boy's life skills.  He definitely had the video gaming skills mastered, and that in itself I found so astounding, I was flabbergasted at the level of prowess he possessed to making it to the ultra omega level killing aliens.  He definitely made me feel like I had nothing to worry about if the aliens every even tried to come near me.  Also he could definitely supply us with a surplus of big, fat aliens to eat, if times got rough.  Overall I just felt so safe.  I never would have guessed the novelty would begin to wear off.
The problems started happening when I would ask him to help out with the man chores around the house.  I'd be out performing brush disposal around the yard and after an hour had gone by, I'd go looking for him, only to find him in the bathroom with a mint-julep face mask on.  I asked him to cut me some fire wood, and have to give him a lesson on using a chain saw, chopping fire wood and starting a fire.  I thought this was bizarre, considering he worked as a wildland firefighter.  He made comments about how all he had eaten that day was a doughnut, and was afraid to eat anything more because he didn't want to get fat.
Long story short, our relationship came to a screeching halt when I found the skid marks on my loofa.
But at least I got to keep the 46" H 1080 HD flat screen TV.


  

Jesus

Why does dating always seem to result in an unending chain of train wrecks?  How the heck is a girl supposed to find Mr. Right Now, let alone Mr. Right, with all these maniacal, 'gina jacket wearing screwballs?  I look around and see even the mean and fugly girls from high school managed to find decent guys.  There is something to be said about the saying, "All the good ones are taken."  That something to be said is: it's TRUE.  If you are fortunate enough to have NO IDEA what I'm talking about, then hightail your happy ass elsewhere.  This blog is a tragedy, comedy and romance dedicated to the gals who know what I'm talking about. 


I met Jesus* (pronounced Gees-Us) at work.  There was something about his long curly hair, and big blue eyes....he looked just like the many paintings I saw as a child at church.  I immediately fell in love.  He had a different attitude than the other guys.  He was quiet, dutiful and wasn't caught up in fashion or superficial things (although he could pick out a good bottle of red wine.)  He worked with his hands, you know, carpentry and automotive stuff.

But Jesus also had a slight edge to his image.  A subtle roughness about him, he was not a pretty boy, and took pride in looking like he just woke up from the bench at the park.  Instead of buying a huge-ass, lifted, bright orange hummer to show how small his penis was, he felt it was far more intimidating to have some leaves in his hair.  It showed the world that he wasn't afraid to get a little dirty or worried about other vagrants molesting him.  It really was a defense mechanism, since he was so tiny and didn't stand a chance in a brawl.

I found this James Dean edginess to be quite sexy, actually.  It made me feel like a damn rockstar's girlfriend.  You know what I mean.  All these hot super models dating eccentric rockers.  Just like Carmen Electra and the many others before me, now that girl was me.  Hot woman dating cave man rocker.  I could hear the comments from the peanut gallery, "Why is she with HIM?" "She is way out of his league."  

Fast forward to our first date.  Pretty typical bar scene.  Vineyards, candle light, expensive wine, organic cheeses from all over the world.  Jesus wined and dined me, and I was totally in love.  Bottle by bottle, the rest of the details became a little fuzzy.....

I woke up at my apartment in my tiny twin sized bed, to the sound of pitter-pattering, and felt something warm. I then felt wet.  I saw Jesus' face, asleep in bed with me, and both of us covered in his urine.  I screamed, "Jesus!!! Have you pissed yourself in my bed?!!!!????" 

He awoke and realized what he had just done.  I could imagine his embarrassment. 

Until he said it was customary in his culture for men to "mark" their territory.  I slept on the couch the rest of the night.

Jesus left and I burned that mattress and bedding that morning.  I would not allow my bedding or mattress to be objectified and seen as a piece of Jesus' property.

And as for me, I continued to date Jesus for two more years.  No further pissing incidents were endured.