Never date a corporate lawyer. Here's how it goes. You match him on Tinder and give him a chance even though he ghosted you after one date. You never get an explanation for this beyond "I was looking for something specific," which sounds like another lawyer or some Woody Allenesque waif-bot, but most Brooklyn dudes want that, so fuck it. He has nice hair. He apologizes, claims to hate True Detective, and laughs at all your jokes.
He's kind. Not like other corporate lawyers, you tell your friends, who smile painfully. He wants to leave Wappen & Kladden! He's sensitive! I feel understood when we kiss! You've never been happier, and he says he's never been happier, and for the first time, you know you're in love.
You spend a fortune on dates and don't care. He makes three times as much as you, but you want to prove you're not after his money.
One night you watch a movie about the futility of monogamy, and he freaks out. He's scared of commitment. The guy who committed to 80-hour work weeks for nebulous reasons is scared of commitment. The guy who asked to meet your family after you said it would be okay to wait, because commitment can be scary, is now scared of commitment. You imagine your brother and dad, who only met one other boyfriend and hated him, discussing this the way people discuss natural disasters. "A damn shame. Now a whole different penis will have to enter her."
But you know something has changed. Lately he seems less cute and more boring. You remember that you're not Gal Gadot and that people are as interesting as you let them be. You say, "I'm sorry if sometimes I look at you blankly instead of listening." He says, "Sometimes I want to leave." How did he pass the LSATs? You tell him it's okay to be human.
You go upstate with a bunch of his friends. They're all more successful than you. You try to be social, but your confidence is shot. This is when he decides you're incompatible.
He comes over in a panic. He's sad because "we used to be so happy." He sees you "in a negative way" now. He sometimes even doubts you're attractive. Because lawyers think it's important to present all sides of reality. To acknowledge how illusory everything is, even human connection. A corporate lawyer can predict the future from a mile up his own asshole.
He clearly wants to break up, but makes you do it. It's the day after your birthday. A few days later, this Vitamix arrives at your door. Either he wants you back, or he does not understand the human species.
He does not understand the human species. Who buys someone they're dumping a Vitamix? He wants to be the hero of this story: "I got this girl an epic birthday gift and then we broke up." He wants me to remember him fondly. I can't abide it. I had fleeting Hollywood fantasies about smashing it in the street, but that's for waif-bots. I'm not gonna ruin a perfectly good blender. Yet, sitting on my microwave, it looks exactly like the Wappen & Kladden building. I am afraid of it. Please help me.
It's a certified reconditioned 5200 series. It comes in the box with a 5-year warranty and a recipe book. I am also available for dates.
via Craigslist http://ift.tt/2a4kdyC
Friday, July 22, 2016
Your dick pic cured my breast cancer - w4m
I met you in the cafeteria about a week ago at the University of Chicago Medical Center.
We struck up a conversation about chemotherapy and insurance premiums. You spoke of your ailment of having crohn's disease and I spoke of my battle with breast cancer. You were slightly taller than me and had a sleeve arm tattoo which I admitted liking...
While we were talking, I began to tear up while informing you that my prognosis was elevated to stage 3 and that stage 4 means terminal. You were very attentive and held my hand as I explained my fears about it. As the conversation moved towards the weather and where we each respectively parked, you advised me to park in a different garage, one that I wasn't aware of and that was closer.
'Here, give me your number,' you said me. 'I'll text you with what it looks like.'
Without hesitation I did and really only with the expectation that I wouldn't have to walk so far (It's not good to be on chemo and walking in the hot weather).
As we parted ways and left for the day, I got home and assumed you forgot to text me. However as I set my phone down on my counter, suddenly it vibrated to an unknown number's text. When I opened up the text in my in my condo which had dim lighting at the time, I saw a beautiful rod appear on my phone's screen. The glow shined on my face and penetrated my spirit. I really felt it change me. Even though you had not shared your name previously, I knew the dong I was viewing had belonged to you because I had recognized your hand holding up the miniature coke cola bottle next to your penis.
Stripping down from my clothes, I was elated to see 4 more pictures arrive as I began to do what any woman would do and self enjoy them. Following the pictures, you also texted me the following lines over the duration of the next hour but I was busy in the bathtub violently masturbating....
"Hey"
"You there?"
"Yo what up?"
"Did you like?"
"Hey"
"Want more?"
"Hey it's me, how r u"
After finishing up my gratuitous session of various climaxes to the sounds of a saxophone in the background, I decided to light a cigarette and write about the occurrence in my diary while contemplating how I would respond to your communique....
Admittedly, I had also taken a deluxe-gigantic-shit, known in medicine as a 'dgs' while I was writing and my phone fell into the toilet. The next day I took it to apple and they refused to touch it and said it was impossible to access your number.
And unfortunately by the time I got a new phone with my same number, your texts had stopped :(
I was preparing to get over you. It was just yesterday that I came in to the hospital for another round of chemo, still very sad our saga had come to an end because of my phone falling into the toilet bowl filled with my poop and pee. That's when my doctor came in shortly after drawing up my blood and feeling my tiddays, catching me completely by surprise by with what he told me next....
"You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are cured. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
Grabbing his arm as he began to walk out the room, I just had to be sure... "What did you say?"
"Your breast cancer is totally cured. Judging by the tests we have done with our fancy medical equipment and group of Asian people in the labs who were looking at tubes and stuff, we can find no more blast cells in your boobies. You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are now perfectly healthy."
"That's impossible, I was stage 3 last week," I told him. "The only thing that changed was that a man sent me a series of dick pics to my phone...."
It was here my doctor put his hand on my shoulder and gave it to me straight. "That was not a man. That was an angel, my lady. And often times God sends angels to do that because he knows what makes us happy."
At this very moment another doctor chimed in from the back ground.
"Hi. I'm a professional doctor of cancer too and he is right. You see your phone gives off a tiny amount of radiation. When you glanced at those pictures, they in a sense delivered a lethal dose of it to your cancer and killed it completely. Forever. The pictures of a penis provide the exact amount of radiation needed due to the peach hue emitted by the phone's screen. What's more, since we at the hospital note that we can't take credit for curing you, we are destroying all of your existing medical debt. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
As I left the hospital and cried tears of joy all the way to my car, abruptly those tears became tears of sorrow and loss when I reached the parking garage because it reminded me of you. Plus I forgot to see Shelia at the desk who apparently was able to validate my parking.
I still have not heard from you and I do hope you get my message because I owe you my life.
Please write me here or text me if you still have my number.
You are my hero and guardian angel.
I love you.
Sincerely,
Diane
via Craigslist http://ift.tt/2agWU7V
We struck up a conversation about chemotherapy and insurance premiums. You spoke of your ailment of having crohn's disease and I spoke of my battle with breast cancer. You were slightly taller than me and had a sleeve arm tattoo which I admitted liking...
While we were talking, I began to tear up while informing you that my prognosis was elevated to stage 3 and that stage 4 means terminal. You were very attentive and held my hand as I explained my fears about it. As the conversation moved towards the weather and where we each respectively parked, you advised me to park in a different garage, one that I wasn't aware of and that was closer.
'Here, give me your number,' you said me. 'I'll text you with what it looks like.'
Without hesitation I did and really only with the expectation that I wouldn't have to walk so far (It's not good to be on chemo and walking in the hot weather).
As we parted ways and left for the day, I got home and assumed you forgot to text me. However as I set my phone down on my counter, suddenly it vibrated to an unknown number's text. When I opened up the text in my in my condo which had dim lighting at the time, I saw a beautiful rod appear on my phone's screen. The glow shined on my face and penetrated my spirit. I really felt it change me. Even though you had not shared your name previously, I knew the dong I was viewing had belonged to you because I had recognized your hand holding up the miniature coke cola bottle next to your penis.
Stripping down from my clothes, I was elated to see 4 more pictures arrive as I began to do what any woman would do and self enjoy them. Following the pictures, you also texted me the following lines over the duration of the next hour but I was busy in the bathtub violently masturbating....
"Hey"
"You there?"
"Yo what up?"
"Did you like?"
"Hey"
"Want more?"
"Hey it's me, how r u"
After finishing up my gratuitous session of various climaxes to the sounds of a saxophone in the background, I decided to light a cigarette and write about the occurrence in my diary while contemplating how I would respond to your communique....
Admittedly, I had also taken a deluxe-gigantic-shit, known in medicine as a 'dgs' while I was writing and my phone fell into the toilet. The next day I took it to apple and they refused to touch it and said it was impossible to access your number.
And unfortunately by the time I got a new phone with my same number, your texts had stopped :(
I was preparing to get over you. It was just yesterday that I came in to the hospital for another round of chemo, still very sad our saga had come to an end because of my phone falling into the toilet bowl filled with my poop and pee. That's when my doctor came in shortly after drawing up my blood and feeling my tiddays, catching me completely by surprise by with what he told me next....
"You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are cured. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
Grabbing his arm as he began to walk out the room, I just had to be sure... "What did you say?"
"Your breast cancer is totally cured. Judging by the tests we have done with our fancy medical equipment and group of Asian people in the labs who were looking at tubes and stuff, we can find no more blast cells in your boobies. You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are now perfectly healthy."
"That's impossible, I was stage 3 last week," I told him. "The only thing that changed was that a man sent me a series of dick pics to my phone...."
It was here my doctor put his hand on my shoulder and gave it to me straight. "That was not a man. That was an angel, my lady. And often times God sends angels to do that because he knows what makes us happy."
At this very moment another doctor chimed in from the back ground.
"Hi. I'm a professional doctor of cancer too and he is right. You see your phone gives off a tiny amount of radiation. When you glanced at those pictures, they in a sense delivered a lethal dose of it to your cancer and killed it completely. Forever. The pictures of a penis provide the exact amount of radiation needed due to the peach hue emitted by the phone's screen. What's more, since we at the hospital note that we can't take credit for curing you, we are destroying all of your existing medical debt. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
As I left the hospital and cried tears of joy all the way to my car, abruptly those tears became tears of sorrow and loss when I reached the parking garage because it reminded me of you. Plus I forgot to see Shelia at the desk who apparently was able to validate my parking.
I still have not heard from you and I do hope you get my message because I owe you my life.
Please write me here or text me if you still have my number.
You are my hero and guardian angel.
I love you.
Sincerely,
Diane
via Craigslist http://ift.tt/2agWU7V
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