Cutting fruit

This just needs to be here. I'll edit eventually.

Run from weird people with knives, ok?!

I don't know what just put this in my head--ok, I do, I was cutting an apple...I just don't know why this popped into my head with this apple and not the others previous to it--but I was just remembering a weirdo that hit on me in the grocery store a few years ago.
He initially tried to pick me up near the potatoes and chattered his way behind me for  every move I made from there to the apples. He had a weird grin that bothered me. and he kept warning me of the dangers of various fruits and vegetables. He didn't hit his full glory until the apples though. At that point, he whipped out a pocketknife with a fuckking blade big enough to draw the envy of any slasher movie star and cautioned me against the pile of wax I'd be ingesting if I bought those apples before he picked an apple and used that knife (thinking about it now, he probably named that thing something like the Disemboweler) to skin the wax from the apple skin.
His grin never left his face. His grin bothered me.
In retrospect, wtf was wrong with me? It was the grin that bothered me. Not the knife that he proudly presented to a complete stranger to demonstrate it's impressive abilities...seriously...Ginzu knife step aside...I was bothered by the grin.
Better still, why did it take me 3 or 4 years to figure out that I should have immediately let loose a blood curdling scream the second he pulled it out?
Am I just finally growing wiser? Or am I just THAT slow on the uptake?

I Are Smart

For weeks, as I leave Ligonier, I drive down a street where someone painted pallets and set them along trees so that it looks as if they're meant to be read left to right as we tend to do here in the US.

The pallets read S M A R.

The first week, I thought they hadn't yet finished the T and wondered what the hell SMART was supposed to mean.

The second week, there was still no T and I made fun of them for being S T U P I. I also swore I was going to ask a manager what that was about the following week. And I've continued to forget.

And I'm quite grateful for that now as I've learned today that that is the home of the Ligonier Valley R A M S.

Rams.

I'll be over here in the corner, reading shit backwards and being super smar. 😏

Pic that Keeps on Giving

If you know me at all, you know dick pics find their way to me with a regularity that would confound even the greatest minds of the last few centuries.

I've reached a point that I just expect that if a man starts sending me messages, I no longer expect to be asked out...I simply expect that within a few days I will receive a picture of his junk puddle sometimes accompanied by an invitation to fuck, sometimes not. 

What I haven't grown accustomed to yet, is the number of men who will keep coming back even after I'm particularly rude to them in response to their dreams of having the one wanker that will turn all women into a puddle of need-you-now mush. 

Even though I'm still getting used to that, I'm noticing a strong connection between the quickness in which a guy will send a dick pic and his understanding of the English language. It seems to be that if the picture is sent quickly, he knows fewer "big" words. 

I've been putting that idea to the test. Take for example, well...his name doesn't much matter...they all become the dick pic guy once I see their nuts before I know *anything* else, he sent me his sorry lump well over a year ago and though I rudely told him I wasn't impressed, he insists on sending texts every month or so to see if I've had a change of heart. 

Here's the photo from a year ago. You might notice I amused myself back then by responding with a banana slicer. That made me happy.

Here is the majority of our conversation from this past weekend. If I'm reading his response correctly, it took him a full 10 minutes to look up a word to understand that maybe I just insulted him. 

I will call this a social experiment and report on future findings with pictures and big words. :)