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...