Ode to Richard:
"Well first off, Dick, you're a Vagina. A scared, unkempt, little pussy. You clearly changed your name from Richard to Dick just so people would find you more humorous and daring. Well, Dick, it seems that the world doesn't find you humorous OR daring, but instead just agrees with you. You're a dick, Dick. You march around on your little dick-Dick legs meeting girls and trying to impress them with your razor's-edge-wit and good graces...that is until, in this case, you got the Razor's edge. The better edge. The sharper edge. The edge that comes with me as back up. Chances are that you're still a virgin--a lonely one--and therefore lash out at the so-called sluts...the sluts that STILL won't sleep with you, or touch your dick, Dick. Putting a dick in your mouth doesn't make you a slut or take away your virginity, Dick. Dumbass dick. Maybe you should just hire one of these sluts to sit on your dick, Dick, so you aren't such a DICK. You don't recognize beauty or talent when it tap dances to Rachmaninov on your ignorant, tiny, wrinkled, little dick, Dick. Your insecurities over your failing self image have festered for so long that you have been reduced to basic, elementary attacks on those whom you find superior to you in every way. Dick. Apologies that the only woman you find attractive, Dick, is your mother; those were probably the last tits you ever touched...let's be real here shall we, dick? Dick?
So, Dick, shall we play nice from now? Try thinking about keeping your dick in your pants, Dick, and maybe one of these sluts will actually be your friend one day and not suffer from your lashing out against your mother. Let's go from there and see what happens, dick."
This past Saturday, I was at Clarendon Grill with my crew. My crew happened to be all male. Great chances for meeting men when surrounded by sausage. Luckily, three srat sisters found me. Unluckily, I was alone when I stumbled upon my toolbag Facebook stalker. To explain, I will need to back track to about a year ago:
I was in DC. I was with Julie at a bar with a group of friends we had just met through kickball. They all went to the same college, so no Techies were around to talk about the football game we had that day. All of a sudden, I see a dude in a Virginia Tech T-shirt. At this time, Julie was off flirting elsewhere. I decided to approach this Tech dude. I went up to him and asked if he saw the game. His face instantly lit up because, I guess, well, he thought I was going to bang him? Right... So he was all excited, but fortunately for me, he was in line for the toilet and it was his turn to enter the bathroom. Whew, I thought. Whew. I was going to be able to get out of this scot free. Urgently, he asked for my full name. He whipped out his BlackBerry and Facebooked me on the spot. Instant red flag.
I regretfully accepted his friend request. His name is Rich Carpenter. Over the past year, I've received no less than 340 Facebook messages from him asking me to meet up. Asking me to come over. Telling me I am sexy. He even gave me a nickname like we were best pals: Ra-Zah.
At first, I answered his inital questions of where I worked, where I hang out, etc... After the first 3 messages though, I stopped responding. He gave me his number multiple times, to which I did not reciprocate. He has "Liked" multiple pictures, statues, and wall posts, and tried (emphasis on tried, as he failed when I did not respond) Facebook chatted me numerous times. At one point, he changed his Facebook name to "Dick Gustafson". How fitting.
Sassy ended up hating Dick after Sassy left a Glo-Zell video on my wall. The douchebag commented "Is this Sassy's girlfriend?" Excuse me? Do you know Sassy? Are you on friendship terms in order to address him by name and taunt him? No sir. That is my job.
One Sunday morning, I was on Facebook. I had a notification that he "Liked" and commented on one of my pictures. This picture was of Julie and myself. Her large breasts were very cleavaged. His comment was "Boobies". At the very same moment, I received a Facebook chat from him "You are so hot" "You are so sexy". What exactly do girls say to this?
"You are so hot"
"Omg baby you too" (even though you have one picture tagged of you, it's clearly the best one you have taken in your lifetime, it's cropped and probably stretched, so I really don't know what you look like)
"Come over"
"Ok... what size are you? Magnum, super magnum, or golden penis magnum?"
"Oh baby we don't need that... I heart pulling out"
"MMMmmmk. I'll be over soon. I'm going to 7/11, do you want a toquito?"
"Yeah get me dat jalapeno and pepper jack one"
"Ok. I'm getting a slushie"
"Do they have Crystal Light?"
"I can check"
"Cool. I'll see you soon!"
"Omg yes! I can't wait to bang you. What do you look like again?"
"I have a weird smile that reminds people of a child molester"
"Great! I'll be there soon :)"
So back to the story, this past Saturday, I am at Grill. I am wandering, and I hear "Hello Sarah (lastname)". I turned and see Dick. Now, I am surprised I recognized him. I, of course, played dumb because you can't creepily say "Hello [ Insert First and Last Name]" to someone you have only met once in real life, and expect them to welcome you with open arms. I asked if I knew him. The fact that I "did not know" Dick, wounded Dick. Dick was pissed. "You can leave now" Oh no you didn't, Dick. I demanded Dick tell me how he knew me. I mean, I knew who Dick was, but I would obey his servant orders.
Dick explained to me, in a very flippant manner, that he was "the guy in the Virginia Tech shirt about a year ago who you approached". The way Dick said "who you approached" made it seem like I did indeed want to bang him. Immediately, I faked enthusiasm for seeing him again. Out of nowhere it seemed, Dick went on a tirade about how "girls your age don't know what they are looking for." Ohhhh mannnnnn. I WISHED I had Sassy with me for this conversation:
"Girls my age? What age is that?"
"21-26"
"Well what are we supposed to be looking for?"
"All girls right out of college like you, are sluts. On average, they sleep with 20-30 guys a year because they don't want anything serious."
"Excuse me? You do not know me. You cannot make a brash assumption that I am a slut because you have had bad experiences with girls. How old are you??"
"28"
"Well WHY are you talking to 22 year olds anyways?! What are you looking for when you meet a girl at a bar, a wife?!"
"No, you don't understand. You can go now."
I do not know much of what I said after this. I blew up at him, and tried to make my point. I was very, very civil considering the fact that he was ignorant. To make matters worse, the whole time, he was smiling. Dick's smile is god awful. Visualize this:
Our conversation fizzled after Dick called me a liar and whore. I am pretty sure I wished him luck in life and walked away. I saw him later on in a line for another bar. He smiled and waved condescendingly.
This was NOT the end of our quarrel. The day after, I uploaded the following picture:
"Jon hit me"
When PoPo gets drunk, he hits me. No biggie. I uploaded this evidence, and within 20 minutes, Dick commented.
"Wow PoPo got you good, but I bet you deserved it Ra-zah ;)"
What the eff.
Didn't we have an unspoken mutual agreement last night that you were never to contact me again? I THOUGHT I had blocked him from all of my Facebook at this point. I then checked his profile, and his status upped his douche-baggery by 10 points: "number of hot exs i saw in Arlington last night: three"
Now, I am neither hot, nor an ex of this microphallus, but I do know I am one of this "three" Dick speaks of.
I asked Sassy comment back to Dick. The first comment Sassy posted was something about me being a liar and that I am actually a slut that I deny myself to be (blatant sarcasm). This made it very apparent I had told Sassy about Dick and my conversation the night before. I instantly deleted it. Sassy then commented again with a brilliant line of "get some extenze, Dick, your jokes keep comin up short". I liked this, and kept it.
Dick didn't like this attack.
10 minutes later, I received a message in my inbox with a subject title of "So predictable":
August 1 at 6:22pm
nice slap tat... ironic that came moments our convo. who woulda thought? dumbass slut.
lastly, you arent very attractive and you badly need to lose weight. peace
I would like to point out Dick, that your grammar is poor. "Ironic that came moment our convo"? I do not understand you, Dick. If I were to attack me in writing, I would proofread and use proper punctuation, capitalizing the first letters of my sentences and inserting apostrophes in my conjunctions. Also, I do not know what does "nice slap tat" means. It is a slap, and it is quite nice resembling the Wilson ball from Castaway and everything, but it is not a tattoo. And please, regarding my attractiveness and weight, do not insult me by cutting to the soul of all women. I see myself in the mirror everyday, Dick. I know what I am, which is neither unattractive nor corpulent. If you really wanted to hurt me Dick, criticize my wit and humor. Call me boring. If you called me a poor writer, I would instantly take up a self destructive habit of cutting or meth. I would turn into Lindsey Lohan, getting really skinny and having people talk about how cute I was "before". Man Dick, I wish I could give you a lesson on written abuse. You could have really scarred me there, Dick. And so, to give you a lesson on a well thought out, poetic justice, Sassy has written you an example of something you could maybe use in the future to victimize women:
Ode to Richard:
Well first off, Dick, you're a Vagina. A scared, unkempt, little pussy. You clearly changed your name from Richard to Dick just so people would find you more humorous and daring. Well, Dick, it seems that the world doesn't find you humorous OR daring, but instead just agrees with you. You're a dick, Dick. You march around on your little dick-Dick legs meeting girls and trying to impress them with your razor's-edge-wit and good graces...that is until, in this case, you got the Razor's edge. The better edge. The sharper edge. The edge that comes with me as back up. Chances are that you're still a virgin--a lonely one--and therefore lash out at the so-called sluts...the sluts that STILL won't sleep with you, or touch your dick, Dick. Putting a dick in your mouth doesn't make you a slut or take away your virginity, Dick. Dumbass dick. Maybe you should just hire one of these sluts to sit on your dick, Dick, so you aren't such a DICK. You don't recognize beauty or talent when it tap dances to Rachmaninov on your ignorant, tiny, wrinkled, little dick, Dick. Your insecurities over your failing self image have festered for so long that you have been reduced to basic, elementary attacks on those whom you find superior to you in every way. Dick. Apologies that the only woman you find attractive, Dick, is your mother; those were probably the last tits you ever touched...let's be real here shall we, dick? Dick?
So, Dick, shall we play nice from now? Try thinking about keeping your dick in your pants, Dick, and maybe one of these sluts will actually be your friend one day and not suffer from your lashing out against your mother. Let's go from there and see what happens, Dick.
Live long and prosper, Dick.
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