Freak Number 68 – Quarantine what Quarantine Freak

You know I must be a bit slow – yes I admit it, there are times where I think to myself surely there cannot be too many freaks left in the place that I have not come across.  Yes I am slapping my face as I type this.

Take this prime example – I am still bamboozled about what planet he is on. I started talking to this guy and we were talking about how hard it is dating at the moment while we are currently in lockdown.  I mentioned that this may be a great way of getting to know someone slowly rather than rushing into something head first.  Perhaps it will give you a chance to think outside the box by doing a video chat/date sort of thing.  You know you could have a glass of wine and he could have a bong in front of a computer and have a date.  Or even throw in a dinner demonstration – I could microwave beans and he could cook a 5 course degustation platter – who knows its called looking for alternatives!  Bring out your inner Nigella, at least you can see whether he is a good cook or whatever.

Well obviously this did not fit the thought pattern of his small brain.  No he still wanted to go out and have a date.  Like where the fuck are you supposed to go?  We can’t go to the pubs – they are closed.  Oh coffee shop – um yeah for a takeaway.  Oh sorry police person – I know that you want to give me a fine for being out of the house but this is for essential duties only – you see I am on a date with this prime beefcake!  Oh you mean we have to stand 1.5 metres away – oh isn’t that part of the exemption – I mean its this guy – he is exempt from obeying the rules.  He won’t get COVID 19 – its a conspiracy theory which only affects people who hoard toilet paper and cake mixes.  Am I suppose to get out my hazmat suit to go on this date – and what happens if he says you don’t look like your picture… well I don’t normally wear a bright yellow suit – it doesn’t go with my skin tone.

Is he currently living in a remote paradise that has not had any human contact for the past year or something?  Or is he just so full of himself that he thinks that he is above the law.  He is probably one of those fuckwits that still goes to the beach and doesn’t follow the social distancing rules.  Thanks mate – you are a right fuckwit!

NEXT!!

Freak Number 67 – Mr “What do you mean that I need to make an effort” Freak

Ok I have a confession.. this one is a bit of roller coaster story, full of twists and turns.. just try to keep up.

I will start the story with there are two guys involved in this tale of woe… one I will call Mr C1 and the other Mr C2.  Mr C1 (sounds like some sort of chemical compound) and I started talking a few months ago and for whatever reason, it didn’t eventuate.  Could be for numerous reasons, but freaks start to mingle in together and I can’t remember one from the other.  I should really write a blog about them to keep track of them.. that’s the idea.

Any way, the past month I have been talking to Mr C2 – he started out sounding like a legitimate guy – I know I should slap my face just for typing that.  He told me that he makes an effort for his lady – like taking her away for the weekend, buying flowers etc – you know the soppy shit stuff.  I thought finally I am about to be wooed like a Queen.  Let me grab my tiara and let’s do this.

Now I am a bit of a chatterbox  and I like to talk – I have mentioned this in the past.  So when I am driving home, I multitask and catch up with people on the phone.  Yes I am using a handsfree device – law abiding person here (looks out the window for lightening!).  Anyhoo – I started to call him on a daily basis to catch up.  Just the normal chat – it was refreshing to hear from someone that can converse rather than grunt!

We even started to make arrangements to catch up for coffee.  The first time he cancelled on me due to a massive hangover from the night before – hey I get it – been there, done that.  Now I will come back to this bit later..

So last week – I was in a bit of a brain fog and was forgetting things – I call it menopause with a dash of insomnia.  It’s great to be a female these days.  Anyway there was one day that I was driving home and I thought time to do my catch up with Mr C2.  Needless to say, I had muddled up the two guys – yes I accidentally called Mr C1.  Lucky Mr C1 didn’t answer the phone but he sent me a message saying did I accidentally butt dial him?.  At this time, I hadn’t twigged that I had called the wrong dude – so the puzzled look on my face when I felt that I had to repeat myself again.  Now doofus here not only did it once, but continued to do it for 2 days.. yes 2 days.  I admit I am a doofus.

It didn’t click until one day Mr C1 had mentioned that he had his kids this weekend.  This was when the penny dropped – Mr C2 had no kids.  So you can imagine the text message back to Mr C1.  Oh yes I did wish the ground could open up.  Instead I played it cool and just acted like I was talking to him all along.  Sneaky I know.

So I thought I better contact Mr C2 and let him on the funny doofus moment.  Now Mr C2 took it as a bit of fun and thought it was funny.  He did mention that he was wondering why he hadn’t heard from me in a couple of days – to which I responded with “well you know my number, why didn’t you ring me!”  Yes funny that!  It seems that that concept did not compute with him.  So much for making an effort.  Oh then the red flags appeared – yes Mr C2 started to twist the responsibility away from him back to me by saying “well I wasn’t the one that called the wrong person!”  Like What The Actual Fuck!!

Now I owned up to my responsibility but it seems that this fails for some guys.  I want a partner not a one sided relationship where one person is making the effort.

So Mr C2 then asked me out for coffee the following day – which I said ok.  Well I thought lets sort this out.  Well the next day, he rings me up and tells me that he can’t make it at the time that we had arranged as he needed to fix his car.  That’s fine, these things happen – so we left it as being a catch up during the week.

So you would have thought that he would at least try and make an effort this week to contact me… um that would be a negative.  Seriously – how hard is it to make a little bit of an effort – I mean it is not like I want a statue to be carved out of stone in my honour – just a bit of effort.

Now Mr C1 is thinking that it is on like bang a gong! and keeps texting me.

Meh.. NEXT!

Freak Number 66 – I can’t string a sentence together but I can do amazing things with my tongue

Seriously…. this is my mood at the moment! CTEvoITWwAEdlyP No I don’t have a headache, although afterwards I feel like I do.  No – its the constant banging of head against the wall after trying to engage in a conversation with people.  I mean how freaking hard is it to get more than one syllable responses or the topic automatically goes to being sexual.   I think I have a better response from the toaster than talking to some of these guys.

Take the conversation today – started to chat to this guy whose profile sounded like he had a brain in his head and had more than “fill this out later” in the detail section.  He had a degree (not that it means much these days) and his profile was quite humorous.  He had a line where his profession was being a legend – okay a bit corny but I thought hey it can be a conversation starter.

This is how it goes:

B:  Wow so what sort of qualifications do you need to be a legend?  How long was the course for?

F: lol

Ok at this stage I am thinking – really just a lol for a response.. come back with some sort of witty exchange

B: Or did you have on the job training for that?

F: Just comes naturally

Wow more than one word response!  Hold me back!

B:  How’s your day going?  Has the rain died down your way yet?

F: Good

Fuck me dead – at this stage I am thinking of having a deep and meaningful with the toaster.  One more attempt.

B: So what’s the plans for valentines day?

F: Nothing – there is no bonky bonky for me 

I am thinking is this guy for real… what the actual fuck is bonky bonky?  Yes I knew what he was implying.. I am not that stupid.

B: Bonky bonky – is that some sort of foreign snack food?

F: no more like a workout lol

Insert eye roll here!

B: oh you mean like zumba?

Seriously!  I could not resist being a smart arse.

F: more like naked zumba

OMG insert more eye rolls… if I continue my eyes are going to fall out

B: Oh I don’t think I have seen any of those classes advertised

F: come over and I can teach you all weekend lol

Yeah that would be a fucking Hell NO!  And what is the lol business?  Are you 13?

B: What a shame that I already have plans this weekend

F: Oh well

F: Yeah well you are not my type anyway – good luck

Wow – like fucking wow!  Seems I was your type when you were trying to get into my knickers but all of a sudden I am not your type now.

Next!

 

 

Freak Number 65 – I’m butthurt that you turned me down

There comes a time in the life of internet dating where you have to put on your big girls pants and let someone down via message that you are not interested.  You know that time where you get a message from someone that when you look at their profile, you think “OH HELL NO!  I do not want my skin to be used for their new suit” type of deal.

Well I got one of those during the week.  Yes he took the time out of his day to message me and try to spark up a conversation (probably wanting to know what type of moisturiser that I use).  However, when I looked at his profile – there was no spark (and only one tooth in his head) and there was a few no deal relationship breakers for me (smoker!).  Now this may shock you, but I believe that if someone has taken the time out to message you, then it is only fair that you should respond back to say whether you are interested.  I know – who would have thunk it – Miss B has manners!

Its just a standard response – you know the “thank you for your message, but I don’t think that we would be compatible – good luck for your search”.  Typical unsuccessful job application spiel response – polite and to the point.  I mean I could have said “oh hell no – you look like you have a grave already dug out for me in the back yard” or the “um I prefer to date someone who has more than one tooth in their head”.  I thought that this would be a far better response than just deleting them.  Yeah no… this guy got so butthurt that he decided to unleashed the fiery avalanche of hell on me.  Yes – this guy is so special that he thought that I would change my mind if he called me “a fat c*nt who thinks her sh*t don’t smell and that he just felt sorry for me as I seemed to be desperate”. Yes charming fellow – wonder if he kisses his mother with that mouth – or maybe his mother turned him down (who knows). Oh and the other zinger – “How would you know if we are compatible after only one message”.

I think he may have already answered his question!

NEXT!

 

 

Freak Number 64 – I’m dumping you for a pathetic excuse

So you would have thought by now I would not be shocked by the strange reasons why I have been dumped, ghosted or possibly put on a mafia hit list.  Alas – this one left me somewhat bamboozled – yes I get that you may be dumped for having bad body odour or even because there is no spark or possibly because you just cannot stop yourself from calling an arsehole – an arsehole!

However, this one was just perplexing.  I started out talking to this guy – he sounded normal for once – I know shock horror!.  Ask me what my hobbies were etc – you know the hard hitting stuff.  I’m into the quirky stuff – not kinky (okay a little kink – well that’s another story!), but you know the stuff that is not the norm of long walks on the beach, drinking until you pass out and a dash of old “inhaling of exhaust fumes as I watch the cars go round and round!”.  I’m definitely not the one that gets dressed up like a knight and scream “Hazzah” in carparks while I pretend to sword fight with my sword made out of old pvc pipe.  That is just toooooooo quirky!.  But I have a bunch of friends that we live life and don’t care what others think about us – and if that means doing a nude hike for World Hiking Day – then guess I am going to do a nudey run in the forest!

So anyway I was relaying the story of how my friends last year got dressed up to go to Eurovision.  You know that show where the crazy bands come out to play from Europe – the outfits and the outlandish acts are just hilarious.  Anyhoo… as I was saying – I was saying that I could not make it this year as I was going to be away, however in the spirit of being apart of the action – I am going to be in attendance as my head on a stick!  Not the literal head – but a photo of me in my costume.

To which I got the response of – “Yeah I really hate Eurovision – in fact I want to kick the TV when it is on.  You seem like a really nice girl but I don’t think you are for me”.  Yeah – dumped over the fact that I like Eurovision.  Hey I don’t like watching Indy 500, but guess what – would I dump someone over it? Oh hell no!

I have heard it all – but Eurovision! FFS it only happens once a year!

NEXT!

 

Freak Number 63 – The Biggest Freak of them all!

Okay, so I have been holding this morsel for a while as it has set the benchmark for both myself and anyone that I come across.  This can only be described as one sick mother of a freak (probably add a few expletive words in there for a bit of flair).  This one still makes me want to scrub my skin and retreat into a world of celibacy or even turn to the other side if this is the caliber of men that is left in the world.

He started out being some what normal – we had normal banter – a few laughs and I thought well hey we have a bit in common.  I will retract that statement later.

So one day he said that he had a secret – he had a fantasy that he really enjoys with his partner.  Now I would think that this is something that maybe a bit of a kink or even something involving a bit of whips and chains and possibly a safe word thrown in.  Needless to say – how fucking wrong was I!  Yes this fantasy did not involve dressing up in furry animal suits and frolicking in the meadows.. no – it was worse.

Now one would hope that you are not eating at the moment or have a sensitive stomach… I did warn you.  If you do – please do not read any further.

Now what was this kink?  Major Freakazoid want me to shit on his chest – yes I shit you not! (pun intended!).  Yes you read right… lay one massive cable on his chest.  Now how fucked up do you need to be before you think that that is a turn on.  Did he one day decide that he was walking his dog and as he was picking up his treasures, thought that this was a turn on.  Was he locked in the cupboard as a child?

Now he did have a alternative for me if I thought that was too much.. yes he would give me a cream enema and I could ‘pretend’ to shit on his chest.  Thank goodness I am lactose intolerant as that was just a big “OH HELL FUCKING NO!” response.

He also thought that I might like to ram my fist up his arse – um again “OH HELL FUCKING NO!”

What the actual hell was he thinking?

NEXT!

Freak Number 62 – Yes I am still attracting freaks

Well I wish I could relay that I have met the man of my dreams and was whisked off into the sunset on the back of a white horse.. alas that would be ridiculous of you to think that.

No instead I have been meeting more and more freaks of the world, just to torment my soul.  One would have thought that the dudes upstairs would have called it a day and throw over a nice guy but who are you kidding – I am their source of entertainment on a dark and dreary day.

So it brings me to the tale of the Spa Tub Dude – yes these things still exist apparently.  I thought that these had gone out of fashion in the 80s with the bad hair and hairy chests – but no again I was wrong.  Mr Spa Tub – I am going to call him STD as well it is humorous and of course easier to type – seemed to be one of those impressible guys.. you know the ones – the ones that like to impress others by the fact that they have stuff.  Impressive stuff like a spa or a huge schlong.. Yes STD apparently had both.

So proud of his huge schlong and spa that he had to send me pictures of both.  Now I would be more impressed that both of the items could make me coffee, alas that was not to be.  Not only did I get pictures of his huge schlong (and no I did not ask for them) but he also decided to throw in pictures of his spa.  That was obviously to sweeten the deal – I mean who could not refuse a spa – well maybe someone who has an aversion to water or hasn’t had a bath in ages.  Now the spa had flashing lights like it was signalling the next plane into land – jeez if only the airport thought of this instead of using runway lights – I mean you had to be impressed by the lights – they were flashy!  But still no coffee – it was not that impressive.

STD not only was trying to entice me with the flashing lights of the spa but also how big his shlong is… yes did you know that he had a huge schlong.  I don’t think I have mentioned it for at least 5 seconds.  Apparently it was newsworthy – I should have notified the news stations to broadcast it – have you met STD – he has a huge schlong and yes a spa.

Needless to say – that was about all that STD had for himself – I am sure that there is plenty of people out there that would be impressed but alas I am not one of them.

 

Next !

Freak Number 61 – The Return of the Mack Daddy Freak

I am back – yes I took a sabbatical to the woes of writing about my sad existence of dating the undesirables and thought that I really needed to work on dimming the “F$ckwits apply here sign on my forehead”.  Needless to say, no amount of bleach, burning of skin, or facial transplant worked.  Instead – the gates of hell opened up and out spewed a army load of freaks encroaching into the minefield that is called Ms Belle’s love life.

I sometimes wish that these stories are actually not true and just some  vivid imagination of some Goddess but alas, they are all true (just some slight changes to protect the identification of freaks who may not actually realise that they are one).

Anyway  onto Freak Number 61 – this one I am going to call Return of the Mack Daddy Freak.  So it was one fun filled day in Ms Belle’s life where the birds were singing, the computers were making that ‘click click tap tap’ noise and only a small amount of dribble was appearing on the side of my mouth.  Yes, I was at work, watching the clock hands go backwards in time while the never ending drudgery of paperwork lurked in the background, tormenting Ms B with the taunts of “You ain’t going to have a life outside of these four walls as I am going to drown you in red tape!”.

Anyhoo, a glimmer of hope in a somewhat dark and dreary office came through like a shining pile of unicorn poop.  A random text message appeared on my phone saying “Morning Gorgeous, hope you have a lovely day!”  Well, I do declare!  Who is this person that I am receiving messages of truth from?  I looked up the phone number and did not recognise it, so what is a girl to do but play along.  After all, it is Miss B!  The convo goes a little something like this (sure that is a song):

B: Why thank you for stating the obvious, but I have no idea who is speaking of such truth

MD: Oh I am sorry, I think I have gotten the wrong number.

B: So you don’t think I am gorgeous then lol. Talk about bursting one’s bubble.  Anyway have a lovely day

MD: Lol – you too beautiful

Now this is where is starts getting interesting….

B: Beautiful?  I could be a hideous dwarf

MD: Are you?  Me too

B: OMG I thought I was the only one in existence.  We must meet, however I am afraid that I was a bit naughty and you may have to wait for a bit as I am currently in jail.

Did I mention I was at work and bored out of my head!

MD:  What are you in for?

B: Smuggling mobile phones – its a lucrative business in here.

MD: Too funny.. you crack me up

Meh. I was really bored and thought hey I may have some fun with this guy

B: Don’t talk about cracks in here.. how else do you think I get the phones in

MD:  You are funny… have a good day

B:  What no Gorgeous?  That’s it, I am going to drink the toilet wine that Bubba made last night and wallow in my self pity.

MD: Sorry Gorgeous

B: Too late, I’m in a foetal position with my goon bag.  Ok that’s enough.. hope you found the right number

MD: I think she gave me the wrong number at the pub.  Oh well, never mind – you sound more fun that she was.

And so it begins, the banter going back and forth.  It was amusing and got me through the day and I was going to leave it as it was.  So fast forward a couple of hours later and after a few more funny text messages, I actually thought I better ask for his name and life story.  As he is telling me, I am thinking – he sounds familiar.  More and more things are starting to fall into place and triggering my memories.  Yes I know this guy.. I never met him but I have already spoken to him ages ago.  There was something that did not sit well with me about him. That’s when the penny dropped.  Yep, he was one of the Freaks who sent me messages previously and turned out to be a wannabe player with ex issues.

Talk about recycling…. Next!

 

 

Freak Number 60 – Confused Dude No 2

 

Sorry sorry sorry… you can call off the search parties.  I have not been kidnapped by a freak cult and subjected to the pains of listening to them rambling on about belly button lint or possibly trying to reproduce more freaks into the world.  I have just been a bit busy and haven’t had a chance to write.  I wish I could say that I was in the arms of a stud muffin, but alas that is not quite true.  Well, that’s for another day and another blog…

Ahhh Mr CD No 2, it seems that there is a whole type of male species out there that are so confused that you have to wonder whether it has become an epidemic.  Do I need to arrange for some sort of concert to fundraise for this plight?  Help the Confused! Free their minds!  Help them figure out what they actually want!

Mr CD No 2 (I am going to call him Mr Number 2 – seems so fitting for this story!) and I met online (where else!) and it started out normal.  I did notice that he had a hobby of restoring gothic furniture; and yes some of them were made out of coffins.  I should have realised there and then that this was no normal dude.  But knowing me, I thought he may be slightly weird but handy with his tools, and what girl doesn’t like a guy who can handle his tools around her place?

Anyhoo… as we started to chat about how our weekend is going – the fun and exciting plans of being the domesticated goddess that cooks, cleans, mows lawns and cleans up after lazy cats and me who lays on the couch eating bon bons, dictating a chapter to my plebe I mean Assistant ala Barbara Cartland style.  He starts to tell me about what he got up to last night.

It started out quite normally, he met some friends for drinks, had a few laughs and then the story went on a different tangent… so different that it had a twist that even I did not see coming.  Turns out that he met up with a man and proceeded to get a hand job from him… okay…no judgement here… So I ask “Oh are you Bi?” to which he responds “Oh God no, that is disgusting!”  Um what?  Have I said the wrong word here? Yeah… like you, I ended up being the Confused one.  The convo continued like this:

B: “So let me get this straight… you are not Bi? are you Gay?”  

Mr No2: “No… I am not Gay either”

B: “Ok I am confused – you say that you got a hand job from a guy but you are not Bi or Gay and think that it is disgusting.  So did you accidently fall into this guy’s hand repeatedly while your pants fell down”

Mr No2: “Well I do like it, but it is not what you think?”

B: “Enlighten me” Meanwhile I am on Google searching for the definition of Gay and Bi, thinking am I so out of touch with the real world that they have changed the definitions and no one told me.

Mr No2: “Well I am quite well hung and I like to see other dude’s dicks – but I am not Gay!”

B: “Right.. so you like dicks but you are not Bi or Gay?  I am still confused!”

Mr No2: “Well as I said I am well hung…”  I am thinking to myself – what the fuck does that have to do with the price of fish.. am I supposed to think.. shit this dude has a huge wanger, so huge that I should be so impressed that I overlook everything else.  Perhaps this huge schlong could be the one thing that eliminates World Hunger, promotes World Peace and gives the meaning of life.  Am I missing something here?

B: “So you said…I still don’t understand”

Mr No2: “Well I like to see the looks on guy’s faces when they see my huge dick… it turns me on”

B: “Right, so it’s an ego thing rather than a sexual thing”

Mr No2: “Well I suppose you could say that”

Yep – give the Wanker of the Year Award to this guy!

NEXT!!