Apres July da 5h

Well, guess what happened. NIENTE!

Well, what should I expect? My friends are assmonkeys who don't give a fuck if they fucking hurt my feelings by not being there for me.

Now, I know this is 2 weeks later, but this really brings the point home. I go out with Amber tonight and what happens? From 11:30 on all I hear is bitching about how hot it is, how tired she is, how she has diarrhea (and who is the whore that ate Taco Bell earlier today?). I was looking to have a good time tonight and all I got was a fucking WHINE SESSION!

I bring her home at 1AM and I get a "I'm sorry if I made you mad..." speech. I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING HEAR IT!!! You know what kind of fag bitch-whore I am and you do shit that you know will piss me off. DUH!

Anyone who finds out i'm going out with friends, remind me of tonight and make sure I STAY FUCKING HOME!!!

July da 5h

Ok, so this is a day early, but I have every intention of going out tomorrow and see what kind of crazy I can get in to. I've invited several people, all of whom won't show up, but who cares! On a holiday like this one, I plan on seeing Slut, er, Scott, and maybe even Keith. AND, if I bump into Ryan, well then wouldn't I be so fucking lucky!

Of course, by bump into I mean meet. I'm not THAT big ho that I want to bump into him. Yet...

So, any of you sleazers that are out there and wish to join me for a night of wicked debauchery (full clothed) meet me at 11ish at the bar Someplace Else. Or is it Somewhere Else? Shiz, I can't remember. Anyway, I'll be the cute one at the bar looking all miserable and depressed to be surrounded by happy people and me being all by myself.

UNLESS, of course, jell-o shot boy wishes to take advantage of me, then I'll be in the bathroom...

Here's to seeing me around. Cheers!

OH, almost forgot, my hero blogger (sorry Dude, couldna resist) The Ever so AMAZING Chad Fox has returned to blogging. I had almost given up on him when I decided to cruise thru da hood one more time and BOOM, there he is. Welcome back, Chad, happy blogging!

Go AWAY

Gods, don't you just hate it when people can't take a hint? J, from the previous post, is STILL calling me. Hello, your friends ruined this for you and you didn't seem to care what they did. NO, you get on me for sending a "rude" email. All of a sudden it's my fault that I didn't take the time to figure out why your number was no longer in service when I called.

Gah! I know at times I'm rather dense and slow, but even I know when to just stop and let it go. Like now...

So, anyway, as some of you may very well know, I do not believe in fate or destiny. I make my life happen, not some unseen force pulling the strings. So, to move things along, I re-contacted this cute guy I talked to about six months ago. I did this because I saw him on 2 different sites back to back in the same night. One of the guys I work with said it's fate and to "GO GO GO for him". LOL, if this works out, then maybe I'll start believing in fate after all.

Anyway, dude is sweet and kind and we have a few things in common. Not a lot, mind you, but enough that we can at least begin building something. Well, if he agrees to start building something and decides that he just doesn't want a quickie this weekend. Altho, I'm up for that, too.

Hrm, change of subject...

Well, nevermind, there's no new subject to change to. Just wanted to update before I forget and go off and do something stupid.

Licks to all, ragazzi!

Off to Hell I Go

Yay me! Once again I've managed to screw up yet ANOTHER relationship for just being who and what I am. While I hate to divulge the details of why, I'm going to anyway just because it's the only way I can make sense of what has happened. And, who knows, maybe you, the psychotic nut-job reading this, will be able to provide insight on what the hell I did wrong.

Disclaimer: I'm not going to use full names, just first initials. Also, I have no intention of toning down the language. So, off to see the wizard...

First off, I'm not good enough for J (the ex) according to J's friends. I'm too ugly to be with someone who has such a perfect smile and body (their words, not mine), I'm too stupid to be with someone of his towering intellect (again, their words), and, oh, by the way, I'M TOO FUCKING POOR! Because I do not have a six-figure income, it is intolerable that I should be seen with J. Only one of the friends, A, has shown even the modicum of compassion by saying, "Hand tight, dude!" The rest of them just insult me and put me down because I choose to work a blue collar job.

Then there's R, the lover/partner/friend who died in a car accident 7 years ago. I know I'll never replace R in his heart, and I'm never going to try to. I can't fight the dead. Yet I also do not expect to be compared to him all the time, too. One of the first things J told me was that I remind him of R. OK, moving on then. Now I find out that R was soft-spoken, he didn't speak to anyone rudely, even his friends liked him.

Which brings me to me. I'm not soft-spoken. I'm blunt, to the point, and very often rude. I have to be. I've been ramrodded enough in my life to know that if I don't stand up for my self, no one else will and I'll always be the asshole that gets the shaft, and not in a fun way, either.

Then there's all the decisions I've made in my life that have led me up to this point in my life. I don't consider them bad decisions (he does) but they were decisions I probably wouldn't choose again. However, that's hindsight and the past and it cannot be changed. I look at what I did as life experiences to be learned from. J asked me, "Do you think you'll ever get yourself turned around and make something of yourself?"

Yeah, so now I have to change and be a "better" man for him. Not only in personality but also in life choices and career.

Then, get this, his ex-boyfriend M has suddenly come back into his life. Now I get to hear all about M and how great M is and how wonderful it was to be with M and how he still loves M and that "M will always have a chance with me". What the mother fucking hell! Basically, it sounds as if J wants me, but only if I fundamentally change who and what I am and ONLY if M doesn't make a better offer.

Boy and girls, can we say, "BULLSHIT!"

Then there's the whole religion thing. We're two separate religions, we believe differently. He tells me that my religion is wrong, the way others act is wrong, we shouldn't talk badly about any other religion, and blah blah blah. You know, he's right. However, J, you should practice what you preach. If it's wrong for the others of my faith to do that, then shouldn't it be wrong for you also? All you have done is malign the members of my religion to me and talk bad about them and say that our faith is wrong.

Fine, we're wrong. However, not once did I talk bad about your faith or say that your belief systems were wrong. The first, only, and last discussion we had about religion went to hell in a hand basket so fast that I didn't want a repeat. I said that I didn't agree with that and all you did was try to ram down my throat how right you were and how wrong I was.

So, finally, after all the hoopla, I sent him this text message: "Your friends are correct. I'm just a white trash loser who has no right to be with you. Go and be with the perfect man for you, because with all my flaws, I'll never be what you want or need. I don't know why you thought you wanted to be with me and I should have known better and never started thinking it might work out. Amazing! I've now broken up with three guys in a row using text. I'm so FUCKING PATHETIC. Your friends will love this!"

Granted, you're only seeing one side of the whole story. We did have some great quality time together. He is a really nice guy and we probably could have had a great relationship together. However, I will NOT change FOR him. I'll change BECAUSE of him. He was attracted to me, with all my flaws, I was not initially attracted to him.

Enough, though. The past is done and I'm moving on. To save myself the heartache and to give him the out he was looking for (didn't know he was seeking), I became the lesser man. I could see the fiery, faggoty-orange writing on the wall. I've been through all this before. He hasn't.

So, guess what happens. He calls later. He didn't get my message. So I have to go through about 4 hours of bullshit until he convinces me that he is "better" than all the other guys I have dated before. HE would never treat me like they did. Against my better judgment I say, OK, prove to me you are different. We make up and I agree to call him today.

Guess what. I called that lame-assed skankoid whore 6 times in the space of 4 hours. "We're sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please check your number and dial again."

WHAT THE MOTHER FUCKING HELL!

Actually, I'm relieved. He proved to me that I was right about him. Since I can't call him and tell him off, I sent him an email:

What the hell is wrong with you? You spent all this morning convincing me you were not like the others I have dated, that you were better than they are. Fine, I decided to allow you to convince me of that for real. Call me, you say. Fine... I called 5 damn times today only to get that annoying message stating that your number has been disconnected or is no longer in service.

WTF! What kind of bullshit games are you playing? Are you getting off on inflicting this kind of emotional turmoil and torture or people? Don't tell me to call you and then make sure your line is turned off.

Your right in one way, you are NOT like the others I have dated, you are worse. None of them ever led me on in such a manner. You have proved to me that I was right about this pending relationship. I knew it wasn't going to work and now you have justified the feelings I have had the past week.

Maybe it wasn't you and it was your friends playing "games". Actually it doesn't matter. Even if it was your so-called friends, then you have more problems than you know about. How dare they play around with your life in such a manner. If this was all them trying to keep me from contacting you, then THEY have cost you this relationship.

Now, go back to your friends, go back to M, go back to your life. Just do not EVER contact me again.

If you breeders have to go through all this bullshit just to get a relationship, it's a wonder the human race hasn't already become extinct! GAH, it can NOT be this hard, can it?

Thus ends another boring as fuck chapter in the life of the Bagelbuoy! Au revoir, mes ami!

The Roads to Hell and to Heaven

You know what, I think I must be the biggest bitch in the world. Either that or I expect to much from my friends. Where to start, where to start?

Let's just say that, once again, I've forgiven those that have done wrong by me, only to be fucking kicked in the gut by these same people. Why do I even bother?

On flip side, I heard from that assmonkey fucker Travis. He "misses" me. BITCH, you're the one that ruined the whole damned relationship by making assumptions.

Now I've had to go and delete more people from lists that I thought were stable. Guess that's what I get for thinking.

As for the title of this blog... The road to hell is paved with good intentions. So also is the road to heaven. If our intentions are always good, how the fuck are we to know where we are going?

Update

I finally read the text messages. HE had no clue about the money. She said she had it ready for me. Explained to HIM what the money was to be used for 2 weeks ago. Explained to HER that since no one else wanted to go out with me, maybe they'd want to go out with my money. After all, it's the money that buys the booze, not me.

The Final Conclusion

Okay, after the last posting and now, it' been just less than two weeks. In that amount of time I've come to the conclusion that friends are just NOT worth the flesh they're made of. To hammer that point home to those idiots that just don't seem to understand that shit stinks, I've gone through all the sites I inhabit and deleted the majority of the people that were old friends, new friends, "other" friends, and anything else you'd have listed. Out of the over 150 people i've talk to, emailed, or whatever over the past 1 1/2 years, only 3 of the bastards even realized that they were missing from my profile.

Of course they want re-added and of course, me being the high strung drama queen everyone expects me to be, told them fuck no. So then begins the "Why'd you delete me? Why'd you delete me? Why'd you delete me? Why'd you delete me?" To help them understand, I explain to them why I deleted people. On some sites, ALL people. "But why'd you delete ME?" BITCH, can any of you tell me my middle name? Do any of you KNOW my true age? What I'm looking for? What I'm attracted to? What motivates half the shit I do?

Case in point. A little bit ago I loaned the "Will & Grace" in my life some money for gas on the understanding that they would pay me back. I didn't go after the money, nor expect it back in a timely manner. I figure when I got it back, it would be whenever they were ready and could afford to pay me. A few weeks pass and I ask HIM to go out with me and have fun. Um, that would've been about 2 weeks ago. He whines about not having any money, so I say, "Well, SHE owes me that money, so we can use that money for you." He's like all YAY!, then I never heard back from him. Hence part of the debacle 2 weeks ago.

So, as I rage and write off the losers in my life, I sent them a message stating that I would gift them the money. "Friends are just fucking amazing, aren't they?" Me at my sarcastic best. So now, all of a sudden, I have text messages on my phone from them. It's either going to be, "Oh, thank you" or "You said HE could use it" or "HUH?" Neither one of them get the idea that I'm writing them out of my life for good.

To be fair, I haven't read the messages, and they be all polite and contrite and oh so very FUCKING SORRY. You know, friendship is a two way street. I've always been there for them, going out of my way to help when I didn't feel like I had an obligation to. Where were they when I needed them? I need to get out, be with friends I can understand and who can relate to me. Why couldn't ANY of them, not just HIM and HER, be there for me?

It's quite simple why. There are people in society who like to help, like to give of themselves for those around them, until it destroys them. The rest of society is just there to use and abuse the first group because they just do not have the compassion and decency to do the right thing. Not necessarily the safe thing, but the right thing.

Well, enough of this. I don't feel sorry about what I'm doing. All through my life I've reached a certain amount bullshit from people then I cut my losses and move on. I never EVER look back with regret on any of my actions. My philosophy will now be: If my friends can not take the time to be with me when I need them, then I don't need them, and they will never be my friends.

Call me an asshole, a high-strung drama queen, a fucking bitch on a tirade. You know what, I've been called worse by my friends, there's nothing my enemies or strangers can do to make me feel worse.

Gypsies, Tramps, & Thieves: FUCKING NOT

Can ya tell I'm pissed? Over a week of planning and not one of them bastards had the fucking courtesy to tell me, "Sorry, can't make it." No, it's just complete fucking silence and lies. The silence I can understand. After all, I'm the biggest bitch you'll ever know when you just fucking bail on me. IT'S THE LIES!

Did you assholes really think I was so dumb that I wouldn't find out? Well, obviously, I see how you all really think about me. Guess what. Yeah, fucking guess.

As for the rest of the night, it sucked. There were only two high points:

1) I met up with Jodie at the new Outland. Well, maybe not new, but certainly gothy and fun. Something about the mind-numbing music that just makes everything OK. Well, that and Jodie. She's such a sweet person!

2) I met Keith. On that, I say nothing else. I guess if you want or really think you need to know, I'll send you an email. Otherwise, he remains the 1 thing about that night I keep for myself.

Drag Queens, Lesbians, Straight Boys and Me II

Sorry it's been so long. I know I've been remiss in finishing this lovely story and now it's been two weeks since the fun and everything is getting hazy. On the flip side, tho, I'm taking a large group out tonight. I'll call the next one "Gypsies, Tramps, & Thieves". Simply put, it's gays, lesbos, and str8ies. LOL.

Anyway, on with the show, after an intermission for my caffeine fix:

So where did I leave off. Oh yeah, the "I'm straight!"

Of course, you shoulda seen the look on my face. So I turn and look and there is this guy sitting over there, glasses, beard, decent clothes. But very str8. Of course, here I go. I start working on him, giving him the "I know you say you're str8, but you're in gay bar and I'll convert you" routine. Yes, I know you all know what that is. Hell, I'm sure you've all worked it a few times yourself. If you haven't, you should. It's a MIND SCRAMBLE.

So I find out that he's there with this group of people. The lesbian I told the tale to, two str8 girls, and a gay man. The str8 man is the gay man's employee. They had all been at the same drag show we had.

I tease and torture him about wanting to try the dark side (for him) so he could see what it's like and all. He denies it, of course. So my final parting shot is, "You know, you should just go ahead and do your underling here. No one will ever have to know and it will be your little secret."

Then I turn to the gay man and say, "Then, whenever you want a raise, you can just go to him." Ah, double entendres, my specialty. No one got the dual meaning except the str8 man. OMG! It makes me wonder just how str8 str8ie is...

At this point they go back inside and it's all over and done with.

Amber then asks, "Are those two over there really lesbians?" I look and say, "Um, yeah. The one on the right is. The one on the left is working to become a man." That's all I'm going to say on that. I made a major faux pas and I'm not going embarrass myself further by repeating it.

As we are leaving the patio, I see the guy I sorta kinda went out with several weeks ago (see "A Friday with Bagelbuoy" at http://bagelbuoy.blogspot.com. I tell him what Amber said and I once again reiterate, "Other than the one fluke, there are no str8 men here!"

"I'm straight!"

AAARRRGGGHHH. What is this, a conspiracy to make me look stupid???

So I turn my body and... OMG, this guy is HOT, with a double capital HOT. Dark hair and eyes, pale skin, fucking nice body (dude has to work out a LOT). Tasty! I really don't remember all that I said after that. I mean, c'mon, 4 rum and cokes and 5 jell-o shots later I'm looking at the most delicious specimen of maleness I have ever seen (sorry guys).

I'll give a synopsis of what I said. I did the whole str8 guy gay bar routine. Of course he laughs (lemme melt). I finally said, "Look, just give me 5 minutes in some dark corner. After that, you can go back to your girlfriend (who is nearby, lucky dog that she is). BUT, once you have good dick, you'll never go back to chick."

"But I've already got myself a good dick," he replies in that mind-fuckingly sultry bedroom voice of his, as he looks at my crotch then his.

"Really? If it's all that good, let me have a ride on it and I'll tell ya."

LOL, dude's face went completely blank. Then there was a smile, almost like he was thinking OK, then a twinkle in his eyes, and a full belly roaring laugh. "OMG," he says. "I knew you were thinking that, but I didn't think you had the balls to say it out loud!"

Shortly after this, when it's obvious that he isn't going to do anything with this "girlfriend" around, we say goodbye. He turns back to his friends and Amber and I leave the patio. Before I do, however, I just can't help with one last parting repartee. A physical one. I place my hand on the right butt cheek, move it across to the left butt cheek, and give it a nice, firm, squeeze. He turns and looks at me with a look like, "Who the FUCK is touching me", but he smiles real broad when he sees me and it's all OK.

After we're inside and Amber and I are getting all school girlish about the hottie, she's like, "Look." I look around but don't see anything. "OMG, look at that." I look around, but still it's niente. "Over there! BUTT CHEEKS!!!" So I finally see what's she's getting all googly about. There's a dude, wearing chaps and a thong, butt cheeks flapping in the wind.

"So? You see that all the time in here!" OMG, str8 girls are sooo fun.

Anyway, I get another drink (note: now 5 rum and cokes and 5 jell-o shots and I'm still coherent!) and head to the smaller bar that I like to call the make-out spot. We sit and talk about a variety of subjects totally unrelated to the topic of the story, when she says, "There's your new boyfriend." I look where she's pointing and there he is, 2d str8ie from the smoking patio. So, we sit there, talking. Well, she's talking, I'm making grunting noises as I watch that stud and imagine all the wickedly wild things I want to do to him.

As I'm watching, tho, I see that's he's talking to a guy I know. Well, sorta kinda know. Let's just say that I've seen him around, I've seen him almost naked (fucking nice chest), but have never "known" him. He's talking to Hottie. As I'm watching, Nice Chest leans forward, Hottie leans forward, and it looks like they kiss. OH NO HE DIDN'T! As Mr. Nice Chest leaves, I race down the steps and say, "What the hell was that?" At this point, my inner diva comes out and I start playing the jealous little queen.

"Uh..."

"You're 'not' gay and you give a kiss to the biggest manwhore in the bar? Dude!"

"I didn't kiss him."

"I was up there, I saw the whole thing!!!" I point toward Amber and she waves with that cheesy smile of hers.

"We didn't kiss. Honestly!!!"

"Uh huh!" I've got one hand on my hips and I'm waving one finger in his face. You ALL know what that is like. "You just stay right here. I'm going to keep an eye on you." I give him the once over (twice), "Two eyes, actually!"

The whole time I'm doing this he's laughing with me. He's not taking me serious and I'm not being serious. I go back up to where Amber is and sit a flounce. Then I get all schoolgirlish with her. HOWEVER, Hottie doesn't move from that position for the rest of the night. Also, somehow, he managed to keep that body of his in unrestricted view, until his girlfriend comes back.

In time, Amber is ready to leave. The big hookup is about to begin, and I try to tell her that we want to stay to see who is going home with whom, but she just doesn't care. As we are leaving, I stop and make one last play for Hottie. "How about this. You, me and girlfriend in a threesome. She can get her thing on with you, I can get my thang on with you, and you can decide which you like better. Then, you can do her up the hoohoo and I'll do you up the woowoo and everyone will be satisfied."

For a second, just a second, I see the temptation in his eyes. But then skank hugs him and starts rubbing his chest with one hand and the temptation is gone. Bitch just wouldn't play the game! Unless, of course, she knew he would like it too much...

Anyway, I say, "Fine, you can go home with her and get your groove on. But I gotta go home with this so she can get her groove on with her husband. What do I get, Mr. Left Hand?"

"Aww, I'm sorry. I'll give you a hug."

Exsqueezeme? "You so kind." He gives me a nice, long, manly man type of hug. I was SOOO tempted to start nibbling on his neck, but I was in control (barely). After about 10 seconds or so, I step back. Not him, me. I tell him how sweet and hot he is and give him a little blessing. Like I had the energy to spare for a blessing, but he was worth it.

Thus it ends. Another adventure over and recorded for posterity. I just wish I had his posterior. LOL.

A domani, when I'll have another adventure to write!

Drag Queens, Lesbians, Straight Boys and Me

Picture it, Sicily, 1908, lonely woman boards a ship bound for the US. Fast forward to 100 years later. Lonely house wife/fag hag calls her favourite homo. "Dude, Justin is going out with the boys. Let's do something. I WANNA SEE A DRAG QUEEN SHOW!" So, trusty mo gets on the net and voila! A show is found.

We get to Someplace Else (actual name of the bar) and it's dead. I mean DEAD! Where the fuck are the cute boys??? I see lesbians, older mos, a few twinks from the bad end of the gene pool, and a couple of guys who, at the best of times, might be called bar trolls, but are way past their prime. So we get few drinks (not good drinks, either) and grab a table.

Ooops, we arrived to early. Boredom. Look at the lebsian, look at the trolls, watch a couple of guys come in. The place is filling up. Oh, look, jell-o shots! Awesome!!!

Lil note on jell-o shot boy. He's twink, he's got spikey blonde hair, penciled eyebrows, tall. Totally enjoyable. On the second go around, I flirt with him a bit. I luvs to flirt! As jell-o shot boy is leaving he gives me the once over with his eyes. Once down then back up. As he meets my eyes he smiles. Niiiice.

Amber and I giggle a bit, get 3 more shots from the boy, and the show BEGINS! Wooot. It's a typical drag queen show. Men in flambouyant dresses and over done make-up. Bad lip-syncing and what you might call dancing if you were drunk and had a concussion. After a few acts, we leave.

Amber is like, "Dude, why did they put the best on first?" Sweetie, it's like this. It's a GAY BAR. You're there to drink, get drunk, and hook up. The show is a way to sweeten the mood. They put the best on first simply because by the end, you're so drunk you don't realize how bad the last one is.

So, off we go to TradeWinds. Yes, boys and girls, the hookup center of Columbus. We get there, get a drink, then I show her around. Ooops, bathroom break. Ooops, two guys by a urinal. One pissing the other helping him piss, hand on his penis and all. OK, I'm using the stall, I don't need help.

I go out, but Amber had to get a key. DUH. So as she goes in, I watch a shirtless man (thin, but defined) making out with his boyfriend. HEY, stop moving down there. That's THEM, not ME!

Amber comes out, I show her the toy/leather shop (there are a couple of items I WANT, but not that I NEED. Yet. They're sold out of the vibrating rubber penis', so I guess I'll have to wait until next time.

We go out to the smoking patio. As we sit there, I start talking to the lesbian across from me. At some point I say, "My friend and I figured out how lesbian's came into being." The blank look on her face says I've got her hooked. I move to sit next to her and say, "Here's how it goes. Back in the day, when humans where hunter gatherers, men would go out on their own. Of course, sex would happen. Men who liked to fuck men probably screwed the more manly women (can we say, bisexual) and, after a bit, the gene was there and homosexuals were created. After a bit, the ice age cometh. Then the bane of all men happened: SHRINKAGE! The cold was so intense that some men's penis' pulled back so far that they re-entered the body and became vaginas and the testicles pull and became ovaries. A few chemical alterations happened and voila: lesbians!

Then Amber says, "These men can't be gay." Uh, hello, GAY BAR. So I say, after a bit of explanation, that there aren't any str8 guys around.

"I'm straight!" WTF!

(To be continued...)