Saturday, February 24, 2007

Myspace Whore

It's really lame but I get such a lil rush from random people I don't know IMing me or myspacing me or facebooking me with an appraising comment. When I get a random message that says something like, "you look really hot in your pic" or even "we should meet up some time, you look really sexy..." it's obviously going to make me feel like the shit. Don't pretend you're creeped out when that happens. (BTW my myspace doesn't have those skanked out airbushed obviousy posed pictures that these 16 year old girls took of each other at sleepovers, just drunk, broke-down, dirty hair, goofy pictures).

The internet's great, it's like when we would walk along the side of the road after school and boys in trucks would honk at us. My friends would turn around and flip them off but I'm not gonna lie, I love attention. I'd give the guys in cars a little nod, smile, practicing the slut face I use at parties when I'm trying to get with someone. I'd do the same shit if someone said something to me at the mall, on the street. They're all talk so I think it's fun to call them on it.

And when random people IM me, maybe I'm supposed to be like, I don't know you, don't talk to me! But I'll talk and be friendly and cute and flirt a little. This guy's been talking to me and he claims to not know where he got my screenname. Please. Here's how I have his screenname- someone IMed me freshman year and said, "So your facebook says you're looking for random play. How about right now? Guess not. (signed off)" I don't know who he is, I don't know if he knows who I am but it's a fun idea right? He keeps saying we should hang out and drink, and I'm like, "yeah let's do that! let me know. yeah whiskey's great. I have a single." Cause come on we're not gonna hang out. I enjoy calling people out on that shit.

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1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

At the mall when I was 14, swishy black pants, tight low-V shirt and a black trench coat:
Random guy, bouncing to the music playing from a nearby Journey's: Ooh, I like yo Outfit!
Me, smoothly: You wanna help me take it off. . . ?
Guy: DAMN, baby! (He did nothing more, I walked away.)

You're right, you have to call them out.

12:18 AM  

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