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Don’t call me baby.

December 22nd, 2014 6 comments

Do you remember this post I wrote back in May 2013? I won’t blame you if you don’t. There are so freakin many posts with similar points floating around the sex blogosphere that even as I wrote it, I felt like one person in the middle of Times Square at the stroke of New Year’s trying to make sure my Auld Lang Syne was heard over everyone else’s.

Plus, that was almost two years ago. So, you know, I’ll pretend my feelings aren’t hurt. ~dramatic sniffle~

So I wrote it for a couple reasons (mentioned in the post), but the straw that broke the camel’s back was a flirty dirty old man from UniteBlue who kept hitting on me despite my polite attempts to shoot him down and constant reminders that I was happily, monogamously married. After I wrote the post, and tweeted it 903489825287234857 times in a passive-aggressive attempt to get the point across without dealing with a response a la #ByeFelipe, he stopped. I didn’t know if he realized he was the straw that broke the camel’s back, or if he just realized I wasn’t into what he was doing, and I didn’t care. He stopped. Hallelujah.

We still chatted from time to time in @s on Twitter. Usually about M’s back, or the no longer flirty man’s health conditions, or his girlfriend. And then, one day, early this year, he disappeared. Read more…