Graveyard Sweatpants

I was complaining about not getting any, and now that it is staring me in the face I don't want it.

The guy from the graveyard recently contacted me again via another dating website. We were chatting and neither of us realized who the other was, until I pieced the whole thing together and nearly ran away from my computer yelling over my bad luck.

So I gave him my phone number. Obviously.

I figured, yes he is 13 years my senior (which does kind of feel like a lot), and yes he most likely works with my dad, and yes his voice is intolerable....I really need to get laid. REALLY. I NEED TO GET FUCKED. And I felt like he was sort of familiar.

He is like the sweat pants of sex. Ugly but comfortable.

The problem is: Ever since I gave him my number he has been texting me crap like "Hugs!" and "Smooches!". I guess he is trying to get my attention. What is really happening is that I am being revolted.

The thing is: I still really do need to get fucked.

So I was really close to going to his place tonight even though he texted me about 20 times, but my neighbor (sketchy drug guy) was over for beers. And I told Graveyard Guy. It only seemed to fuel him more.

It is now 2:30am and I am still getting texts, an email, and a message from the dating website saying that Graveyard Guy added me to his list of "favourite people".

In reality I am going to have sex with him. It is inevitable. It will probably happen tomorrow. It may even happen tonight...

Hot Dead Guys

As you may know, I have a thing for old guys and graveyards.  This post potentially has something to do with both of those things, which is why I am so excited about it.

Let's talk about hot dead guys!

Now, don't fret just yet.  I'm not talking about going all necrophiliac-y all over the place.  I am talking about guys in history who happened to be hot and now happen to be dead.  I am appreciating the hottness that existed when they did happen to be alive... Got it?  Good.  Moving on.

Sadakichi Hartmann

(November 8, 1867 - November 22, 1944)

Poet and a critic.

The dude went by the title King of the Bohemians.

Need I say more?  No.  Obviously.

Ernst Haeckel

(Hottie on the left)

(February 16, 1834 – August 9, 1919)

Biologist, naturalist, philosopher, physician, professor, and artist.

Not only was this stud a genius, he also had mad skills when it came to shit like painting.

Please admire the following image and note that he and I are practically the same person because I totally just painted some mushrooms to hang in my kitchen.

Talk about soul mates.

Rupert Brooke

 

(3 August 1887 – 23 April 1915)

English poet.

He was hot and then he died in Greece from an infected mosquito bite.

Lame.

But still hot.

Ivor Novello

 

(15 January 1893 – 6 March 1951)

Welsh composer, singer, and actor.

Can we just pause to imagine crying out the name "IVOR!!!" in bed.

It's all magic my friends.

I hope you enjoyed my short foray into the past.  For more reading on hot dead guys please refer to Bangable Dudes in History.  They are a much better read and will probably make you swoon with their pie charts...