Sex As A Weapon

“He asked me if he could ‘loosen my tongue with some of that demon liquor.’”
“Well, that’s certainly going on the blog.”

Resolution 2011 was to not drunkenly hook up with people I shouldn’t, but I failed at that by kissing someone at Midnight that I shouldn’t have. Not to mention subsequent hook ups with various others throughout the night. So for the sake of this blog post, let’s just say that my new resolution is to actually keep up with the things I started.

I’m back, bitches.

Continuing with the theme of boys on tour…

Sometimes it’s really funny to watch the dynamic of an entire band shift when they’re all suddenly aware that there are 3 of them and a few of you and they all think they actually have a shot at getting laid.

They tend to pull out all the stops at this point, getting as cheesy as humanly possible, trying to get you to kiss their cheeks hoping to turn their heads quickly enough. Mostly they’re so focused on trying to one up one another that they don’t even realize the completely inane bullshit coming out of their mouths.

Some gems used on some friends and I from the previous evening:

“Your hair…it’s beautiful. It’s like Judy Garland’s hair. You have beautiful Judy Garland-like hair.”

“You’re gorgeous, you know that? I mean…wow, y’know? Your eyes and your eyebrows and your hair all just, compliment each other so well. Their colours are all really…complimentary and great.”

The guy who actually ended up getting some action didn’t use any pick up lines. Take note, folks.

sofararoundthebend:

I went to a party this evening. A fairly attractive guy is there. I converse with him a couple of times. He hugs me. He is drunk. We are standing there and he starts making this chopping motion in the air with one of his arms. I ask him what he is doing. He says, ‘I am picturing myself hacking pieces of your body off.’

The fucking end.

Coming over to apologize will not get you any closer to getting into my pants after you spent the last 5 minutes creepily following me down the street holding your beer bottle and stumbling along while yelling at me to “shake it like I mean it”.

Also: Yelling the words to Eminem’s Shake That Ass For Me is not doing you any favours. How is that even still relevant in 2010?

And more importantly, why do I keep attracting Eminem fans?

As you can see from this blog, there is a very distinct trend concerning the people who hit on me. They have terrible pick up lines.

However, there is another group who consistently hits on me. This group of people tend to almost always be exactly my type in every way - musicians, tall, skinny, sarcastic, witty, attractive, etc.

It isn’t what they say, how they say it, or what they do that is making me want to write this entry, because more often than not I am totally into it. Until I find out the bad news which ruins everything. They have girlfriends.

Example one:

Hot guy that I’ve been flirting with all night and partying with and totally into. The end of the night rolls around and everyone ends up crashing at my house.

“Well, it looks like most spots are taken, so you’ll probably have to sleep on the floor…”
“I’d rather sleep in your bed.”

Waking up wondering why this didn’t happen was confusing. Waiting another 3 days until I’m sitting in your lap and we’re both talking about how we’re really into each other until I ask you who the girl in your band is and you let out a sigh and get uncomfortable and mumble that it’s your girlfriend is a shitty move.

Example two:

At the bar: