Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Return of The Bean Counter: The Departure of RFKAO

Welcome back to a scathing edition of the Bean Counter.

Well Crikey!!! Can I even find the last edition's tally??? Why yes yes I can :  69

Boss doesn't seem so angry at me anymore: +10

One of my clients tells me that my home town had massive gang violence over the weekend: -20

Nurse Mom is one year from paying off the house AND the car: +15 even though it means absolutely nothing for me. I'm just happy.

RFKAO has done a complete one eighty and turned into this completely unreliable angry person: -45

RFKAO stop caring about the home we are sharing together: -35 because I still care, anything of value in this place is mine.

RFKAO morphs into a nasty five year old, quits his job and parks himself on my couch when he's got a perfectly good room to veg out in: -30

RFKAO has to leave: +50

Started writing again: +10

Thanks to me pulling from my retirement fund, the rent will be paid up to August: +50 Hey I am tired of running that risk every freaking month with no help.

The internet brings a butt load of awesome Memes to the table. But NONE of them beat POF's version of the Fail Whale. I want to wear that on a T-shirt. Gosh darnnit that's just the cutest little robot ever: +12

Chewy was almost raped on Sunday night by a randy Maltipoo. I wish my dog had some balls...: -19 Darn you Humane Society for fixing him.

Then the little creeper actually followed us home while I had to carry Chewy: -15 We were then serenaded with sad whining because I wouldn't let the mangy thing in my house.

Came to the conclusion that I might have to start going beck to AA because life is not fun anymore: +10

Submitted my resume to a place I actually WANT to work at instead of waiting for pervs to call: +11

The next dating blog I do might actually have some insight in it. I'm thinking that I'll save it for Saturday since historically I don't post much on the weekends. The topic is why women keep attracting the wrong men:  +/- 0

Power goes out in the kitchen. I fixed it with out even putting on my tool belt: +13

Of course no Bean Counter is complete with out offending some one/group. I thank Google+ for this awesome meme:

 Epic +38

Walmart once again wins the war with my wallet. Went in for trash bags, left with $139 worth of crap. Utter simple crap: -12

Under a Vampire Moon By Lynsay Sands
How ever while at Walmart (Walmart is the Devil) I found the next two books I plan to review: +14
Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter By Seth Grahame-Smith

The Plumber returned and removed of all things, a child's tooth brush from the drain in the bathroom sink. At least he knows I don't have kids: +5

The Plumber decided that the toilet pretty much needed to be rebuilt: +5 doesn't cost me anything.

That he's doing it while I sit there wiht a full bladder: -36

What's this week's tally: 115     A whopping 115, some where this is a win.

Donut forget the Friday Fictioneers coming up tomorrow.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

What am I reading?

So a while ago I had this great idea to write a review about what I'm reading. I'm not a professional reviewer and no one asked me to do it but I think I should as the Wednesday feature.

See I should structure my blog I think. Just because it needs a little organization. That and to give me a reason to update it. I mean I'm supposed to have a Bean Counter on Thursday and The Flash Fiction on Friday. Why not review a book on Wednesday?

Well Ms Townes, you don't read  a book a week do you? If I had a book to read a week I would. Besides I'm supposed to be getting into a field where my written word is going to make me famous. What better way than to start doing reviews? 

Yes that is my dog in the corner.
Somewhere in my mind this makes sense. 

So what have I read this past week? Well I've read A perfect Storm by Lori Foster. Another HQN Romance, good shit those Harlequin romances even if they stiff their authors something awful. If she ever got from under Harlequin I'd still read her work.

So anyway A Perfect Storm seems to be about two very damaged souls trying to deny their feelings. Arizona, a feisty young thing was traded for drugs at  an even younger age and was more than mistreated. While Spencer a bounty hunter, still has his heart wrapped around his long dead wife.

Wonderful set up with the strong protector and the beautiful damaged goods. I question Lori's approach to Arizona's mixed background. It just doesn't seem clear to me. This doesn't take away form the story much, but it does come into play close to the climax. Maybe Lori wanted to lean on the delicate side of things? I know it sucks that in our books we want to create a safe place from racism in our fantasies, but if you're going to make it a big deal like part of the plot, then make it a big deal.

Arizona toes the line as the typical I've been hurt so I'm going to be a bad ass we all expect from human trafficking heroine's how ever think Lori again falters at making her so young. She tries to infuse the poor child with too much wisdom at the wrong times like during her interactions with the super nosey neighbor. Then she gives her teenage girl feelings when talking to a confidant. I know the goal was vulnerable but it's not working here.

Spencer on the other hand comes off very well as McGruff the Crime Dog. He's a little possessive and he knows it but doesn't want to admit it and also has a never ending barrel of restraint. Melted my panties right off. The one thing I don't like is how many times he says the word "boner" Who says boner? Aside from him, I mean, welcome back to 1994.

Over all a great book, I love the plot twist at the end. I saw the villain coming, but was pleasantly surprised about how that was executed. Very well done on that part. The very ending was a little lame though. If you actually read this book you'll understand, check out pages 440-442, you'll see what I mean.

Hey I'm a fan first okay....

So how should I rate this? Thumbs, Stars, Scooby Snacks? You guys tell me. 

Photo Prompt for Flash Fiction

Once again Ms. Woods has found a deliciously grand picture sure to inspire all kind of great short stories. I supposed I should get cracking on mine:

Over on the Facebook page, the thread discusses where this lovely picture came from. The story is that there is a very lucky writer who passes this everyday on his way to and from work. That man is blessed, whether he wants to admit it or not. Cheers to you, Lucky Bastard. I get to stare at a base.

Join in the fun on Friday with the Friday Fictioneers or if you just want to blog hop follow us on Twitter #FridayFictioneers.

Scrutiny from the weirdest places

I can honestly say I do not like the person in this week's Flash Fiction. You know why? Because the bitch is a raging alcoholic. I can see the signs and even if it's a short story, I swear I see myself in it. I should be so lucky to have a man who would take care of me when I'm too drunk to care about myself.

I could just you know stop drinking again.

I could do the whole controlled drinking thing that is mentioned over and over in the AA book.  I wonder if I'm really doing that? Like the book says in one of the early chapters The seed is planted. This idea of controlled drinking.

You know what controlled drinking feels like to an alcoholic? Guilt, lots of it. This weird consciousness that lurks in the back of the alcoholic brain, making them wonder if they've had too much. One that hasn't hit their bottom will ponder this a lot. Since I haven't hit a bottom  with my drinking I wonder about it.

So there I was several times over the last two weeks feeling very much like the depressed angry person I was before I tried to off myself. I couldn't pin point the reason for it. Maybe it's my ever constant search for someone who isn't dependent on me to validate themselves. Maybe it's the fact that my room mate has been driving me to the point of wanting to leave everything behind. Maybe it's the fact that for the second month in a row I've haven't been paid on time thus facing a possible eviction.  Maybe it's the fact that my boss threatened to fire me for not talking to a client. I'm tired of stressing out.

The things that  seems constant in all this is the fact that there is two bottles of wine in the kitchen. Really big bottles. For a while I confidently looked at them and didn't want to suck them down cork and all. That's has not been the case these last two weeks. Yeah I think the cork is what's going to get it.

So when the photo prompt came out last week I wrote a story about addiction. I really did not mean to. The picture here, made me think of every time since I started back drinking that I had to JUST HAD TO have junk food before I went to sleep. I though I'd make a funny little story about a junk food run. Then after I posted it and began getting feed back I saw it for what it was. My character Tracey needed help.

I got great feed back from other writers on how well I wrote that shortie. I wanted to be proud I really did, but I couldn't because I saw me in her. I saw me in the other character as well. It bothered me. It bothered me a lot.

What bothers me more is that I've been ashamed to face this about myself and even if I don't hit bottom I'm heading there. Maybe I need to put the bottle down and  do some soul searching. I may not be hiding in the bottle, but I know that I'll never find the answers to my issues by dulling it with booze.

Am I stepping in the right direction? I have no idea. Is my writing telling me something? Yes, it's telling me to look at myself.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Friday Flash Fiction: Best Hubby Ever

My blog has been neglected, if not for this Flash Fiction I think I'd have given up a while ago, having caved in to the amount of stress I make for myself. That being said I figured I'd try something mundane this week for my short. I have to say though the Fictioneers who got the jump early had some pretty great stories. 

The Best Hubby Ever

"Hurry I'm starving." Was the last thing Tracey said right before she passed out. Tracey always said that right before the booze in her system shut her down. Most nights Dave could gauge it and decide whether she'd actually eat. Judging by her snores he, climbed in bed beside her.

An hour into his bed time she woke up looking for her McFlurry.  After years of being married to Tracey he was never wrong. He put on his clothes and drove to the nearest drive through.

It's closed. Moths had settled on the window. No grease was cooking, no ice cream, no french fries, no sleep. He guessed he'd go home and cook.

When he returned home he found his wife curled up on the couch, asleep, again.

Check out the link on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter, #FridayFictioneers.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Dating or more accurately not dating.

Neither RFKAO or myself are ready to date anyone. I must say though he might be closer to finding love before I do. I say this because he is at least truly open to the idea of finding someone.

But this blog is not about ability to love someone, this blog is all about ME. Yep ME ME ME ME


We remember PNNU aka Stage Five Clinger aka Mr. Unflushable? Well thanks to him and possibly the man before that. I have pretty much sworn off committment.  So going into this next encounter with a new person I gave a disclaimer: I want no sort of relationship. I want friends, people I can hang out with and add to the group. Females don't get this disclaimer because well I haven't had to need to use it on them.

Enter Sgt. Silly Pants. Came to the house on Sunday, roomy and I weren't planning on going out. We had ice cream and was really planning on watch Game of Thrones. What's one more person? Well the one more person came there was no watching of Game of Throne. There was how ever something vaguely similar to a first date where he told me about his family his first wife his two kids and some other stuff that really has no bearing on me.

RFKAO jumped on the fact that he was a straight Marine and that he liked killing zombies. (A fascination I will NEVER understand)

Came the next few days I get two things:  booty call text. Not that I'm against them, just not at 2 AM. A few days after that I get: I miss you.

Gasp!!! Do we have to go there? Yes says Sgt. Silly Pants, because he does. Ms. Townes proceeds to nip that in the bud. Well Silly Pants is not having any part of that. He not only wants a valid reason, he also demands closure.

Closure for what? A friend of mine  who give great advice, and I must say one of my best readers, got together on facebook to discuss it.

Lame Gazelles is now officially a term thanks to Sgt. Silly Pants. And honestly if I could write this crap and sell it I would.

I think I'm going to swear off dating for a while.

Of course after about two days of this I'm registering for Why do this? Well I have no idea. It is not at all like I don't have a care in the world right?

The thread shown here actually goes on for quite a bit and ends with us getting a good laugh out of it. But I've come to the conclusion that I need to change me. Otherwise I'll just keep attracting the same man.

So is this the end of Sgt. Silly Pants? Yes, unless he drunk texts me later on...

Wow I'm glad I have some kind of support network. Because I think I'd pull my hair out.

Some times I wonder if I'm ever going to find someone that can exist by themselves...

Friday, May 18, 2012

Friday Flash Fiction: A Country Walk

This week Flash Fiction brings us something straight out of a fairy tale. So of course I'm not going to write a fairy tale. Let's start with two boys walking in the woods. This should be a treat, I think, seeing as for two weeks in a row my MC's have been men. Good Luck getting through this.

Tha'ss Puurrdy

A Country Walk

Toddy was sweating. He hated sweating, and Errol refused to slow down.

"How long until we get there Errol?"  Toddy grunted, he wasn't used to long walks through the country side. "You said we were going on an adventure. This looks like a walk in the muck." 

"Muck is wet you fat wanker. Shut up you're scaring the animals with you're breathing"

"Well I can't stop my breathing can I"

"You can if you try… Whots this?" Errol stopped short. Toddy bumped into him. He stepped back and looked ahead.

"Looks like a rainbow Errol, wanna see the end of it?" Toddy found himself rather funny sometimes.

"No, you twat, what's that noise? Sounds like its right up there."

Follow the Blog Hop on Facebook, on Twitter #FridayFictioneers, or for the rules go to Madison Woods

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Friday Fiction Photo Prompt/ The Bean Counter

Here's the Prompt this week for Friday Fictioneers. Yes, yes it's Thursday and I'm sure I'm slacking this week. Work has been a beast this and RFKAO has a new job that's disturbing my routine. I've gotten so used to him being around that I'm pretty much bummed out when he's gone.

If I wasn't such a commitment phobe I think I'd go out and find a man to take up my time. Instead I'll just get used to this new thing and do what I do best. As soon as I figure out what that is...

Tha'ss puurddy...

And now on to the Bean Counter:

Last Bean Counter tally: 62 Not very promising.

That I missed a week of the Bean Counter: -20

Donna Summer dies at 63 of cancer: - 50

RFKAO has no idea who that is: -40

Adam from the Beastie Boys also passed away: -35

RFKAO once again didn't know who that was: -25

The rent got paid: +100

Chewy hates his new food so much that he's not eating it: -25

We have food we can substitute so he's not starving: +15

Unpacked the last box from two moves, Japan to states, then from tiny place to this one: +45

Met a guy named Richard on my walk the other day who has three dogs and wants to plan play dates with Chewy. Richard's Pit Bull is theee sweetest thing on four legs, as long as you let him chew on his ball: +12

RFKAO listened to me have a conversation with my brother where my Boston accent  came out so thick he almost couldn't understand it: -10

RFKAO started a game of Punch Buggy and I won by two: +21

My GI Bill paperwork was approved so I'm going to school in the fall: +41

Since the paper work is approved I have to make a trip over to the college to start my registration: -19 no no like waiting in line.

Ran out of meds again, and now I see things that aren't there: -67

I'm not freaking out over the things that aren't there, I just know that there not there: +11 hey what ever works.

We almost died on the 805 over the weekend because noon time drivers are insane: - 41 messes with my anxiety.

Sang I Will Survive at Karaoke on Sunday with a soar throat and still did a fabulous job: +50

Thanks to over paying the gas and electric bill last month the bill this month is $-1.00: +10

RFKAO randomly tells straight guys I'm single I'm not sure if that is a bad or a good thing: +/-0

Home girl in Japan not only gave birth to an unbelievably beautiful little girl, but she actually found time to buy me some Dydo Juice while she was at it. What a super mom she'll be: +35

This Bean Counter tally: 69. 69! Meh, it could be worse.

Stay tuned for the Flash Fiction shortie coming first thing in the morning. JOin in the blog hop over on the new Facebook page. Follow us on Twitter #FridayFictioneers and to get the rules check out the blog over at Madison Woods' page.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Bad subs and a boo boo buddy

This week does not bring anything new to the table. I finally managed some how to get the rent paid this month. WOOHOO we're not homeless. As for writing you can just call me looser because I haven't written anything since last week. Things like eating and keeping a roof over my head sort of do that.

Honestly I would have continued to write if I knew there was nothing I could have done. But the was and between the two of us, RFKAO and I managed to do them all.

Work though has been interesting.  I was given a client who is supposed to be a submissive. That's cool you body isn't your own, I get it. This ass clown was a disobedient sub. I hate disobedient subs. The little selfish pansies want you to give them 3000 percent while they sit there looking stupid and saying dumb shite like "I don't Know." It's like being back in the service and talking to a junior Sailor. Don't tell me you don't fucking know. Of course you fucking know, your dumb ass is just too ashamed to say it. I hate disobedient subs, just as much as Gorgeous George hates Pikeys.

Gorgeous George: It's a camp site, a pikey campsite... 
Tommy: Ten points. 
Gorgeous George: What we doing here? 
Tommy: We're buying a caravan. 
Gorgeous George: Off a pack of fuckin' pikeys? What's wrong with you? This will get messy. 
Tommy: Well not if you're here. 
Gorgeous George: Oh, you bastard! I fuckin' hate pikeys! 

I shouldn't complain right because they are the one coming out of pocket. But I will and I'm not going to waste my time on some caller who doesn't know what they want. I don't care how many times you call back. If you're a bad sub I won't like you. We don't have that kind of relationship, and I will refuse the call. I don't get paid enough to mind read how to punish you. I'm not emotionally involved with your fantasy and personally I really don't care of you even get off. It's a boost for my ego if you do but I still get paid regardless. So no I'm not going to figure out how to punish you for the next call. I just don't care. You as my client can be a good sub or you can find a new master.

I could be considered a cop out, that's fine. I'm not a Dom in real life so asking me to deal with a difficult sub is really beyond my realm. The question is, do I want to invest more time into this JOB (not a career) and not be compensated for it? Heck no.

My other new client whom I can't stand is some crusty old fart who has never been hurt in his entire life. Hence his fetish for wanting to be completely destroyed. I'd be okay with this except he calls off my schedule and can't remember shit. If this guy asks me one more time what my bra size is, is the bra made by Vanity Fair (who the heck wears Vanity Fair?) and what color is my hair one mo'gin... 

This jack tard calls more than once a day. He hogs up all my time and frankly I'd rather talk to my other clients. I've built up a good report with them and personally I think it's selfish of this guy to take up so much time when he's not going to remember any of it an hour from now.

I have a routine and these two are screwing it up. I could be writing here, or in one of the books or walking the dog, which thanks to re-re number two I wasn't able to before sunset. Because if these two I really want to find another agency. They aren't worth getting by blood pressure up for and if it weren't for my other customers I really think I would have quit by now.

I do not enjoy arguing with someone about what's the best way to break a jaw. Because in my nerd geek brain using the heel will not break it sufficiently in one blow. What the heel of a stiletto will do, is miss the hinge completely and puncture a blood vessel. No broken jaw, just a bleed out. Best use the platform portion of the ball on the shoe. But NNNOOOOOOO crazy pants insists on the heel. Crazy pants thinks he'll survive. I'm thinking a well aimed shot on either side will break open his mouth using the ball, I'm telling him what will most likely happen, and yet he still insist he's right. Crazy old fart wants me to break out all his teeth and feed him hair dye. What a freaking weirdo, and he has no memory so ten minutes after he asks me how much i weigh he's going to nag me about my bra again or start in with bleach and pyrex measuring glasses for the fifth time.

I feel like this is time wasted, and since I get paid by the minute I know it's costing them a fortune. I don't feel bad for them I feel bad for me. I really could have done something  a million times more valuable with my time. Even if I did get paid for it.

I just want to smash my soap box right now.

The Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt will be up shortly. I have one more short from last week that still needs posting and thanks to the week me and the roomy have been having I haven't done that. Bad Tia, Bad... anyway if you made it to the bottom of this entry then you deserve a hearty handshake, maybe a hug, and definitely a cookie. 

Monday, May 14, 2012

More Flash Fiction: Unofficial stuff from last week

Like I said I had three stories this weekend for Flash Fiction. We've got some returning characters. This one My roomy RFKAO says he wants to read so with out further ado, I give you, Grand Pa and "Boy."

"Boy." Grand Pa had somehow invaded my dreams.
"BOY" No, Grand Pa was in my room. He just growled.
"Took you long enough. Take off that silly pink thing. We're going." 
I took off my favorite night gown and socks reluctantly.  I then joined my very naked Grand Father out front. "It's a good night to run, boy, you won't have too many left before you have to choose a mate."
"Grand Pa if you know I'm a girl why do you call me Boy all the time?"  I popped my neck and sighed as my spine cracked.
"Because I didn't raise no sissy, and your mate will know that." He said from his crouch. 
I looked at the sky, the clouds cleared just enough to show the moon. I felt its pull, then dropped into my cougar as Grand Pa bounded into the woods.

I roared at the feeling of her shining on me. It was a good night to run.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Friday Flash Fiction: Birthing

Flash Fiction was a beast this week only because I came up with not one but three stories. So here's what I'm going to do: Birthing is the story I'll officially submit for this week. Then on Saturday I'll submit the other two stories.

You'll enjoy the others if only because I bring back characters in both of them. 

A Good Night For A Run - Grand Pa and "Boy" are back and as usual"Boy" is trying to remind Grand Pa once again she's a girl. Of course he's having no part of that.

What Are You? - Brings the return of my two jewel thieves Marta and Henry. Last Flash Fiction left off with Marta about to kill Henry. We'll find out how that worked out.

But enough of that, enjoy the story...


Clouds had rolled in along with the first contraction earlier in the afternoon. It was well past midnight when Kelvin stepped off the veranda. He lit a cheroot and paced the drive.

His wife began cursing him hours ago. He cared nothing about what she said. Each invective burst from her dry lips between gasps of pain. He could no longer watch her and do nothing.

When the clouds finally broke he lifted his tear stricken face to mother moon, begging with all his heart to keep her safe. He could care less about the child. It was her, he needed.

The midwife exited the house shortly after the moon disappeared. She nodded slowly to Kelvin then returned to the dark house. He was a mask of granite until the door closed.

He turned to the woods and never looked back.

Check out the Friday Fictioneers on Facebook or #FridayFictioneers on Twitter, also feel free to blog hop starting with Madison Woods blog.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Flash Fiction Photo Prompt

It's beautiful...

I just want to stare at it.

Am I Commitment Phobe? YES

In light of my last relationship, Mr. Unflushable (formerly PNNU), I've come to the conclusion that I might be a Commitment Phobe. To prove this and to maybe explain away my really awkward guilt for what I don't know, I decided to take a quiz.

Google that wonderful thing that now rules my life: automatically gives me FIVE. Stating with the first one over at, some uber spiritual site, that I'll not willing wander on unless I'm doing research, like now. Anyway from a score of one to one hundred on the quiz, I got a 77. By two points that makes me a commitment phobe.

Not to just accept that as writ, I looked on to the next listing., is the be all end all of all things womanly(slutty), fashion, health, beauty, entertainment, and relationships. How many people and you're allowed to not raise your hand, have turned to the frilly pages of Cosmo to spice up your diet, wardrobe, sex life, or just to change your lipstick? I have and I'll probably do it again.  According to their quiz, not only am I one when it comes to relationships, I haven't committed to anything long term that involves strong bonds. I always assumed that I just had nomadic tendencies, and I liked to wander. According to them I am neither here nor there about my job, my home, or even my friends. Eghads, heaven help me, Cosmo pretty much called me a flake. If I had any deep rooted feelings I might just be insulted.

Then I decided I should check out the next listing. a site with some crusty looking man on it named John Gray PH. D seems pretty legitimate. I gear up for another round of questions. Why am I not surprised with the findings? Well honestly I pretty much had the idea in my head for a while now that I might be a little afraid to commit. So this should not come as a surprise. The quiz on this site asked some questions that I've heard already today, but then it delves deeper and I find myself hesitant to answer further. Nevertheless, I proceed and once again come up with the same  answers. To make matters worse it also labels me a flake. It says I shouldn't even own a dog, poor Chewy.

If you think I'm going to ask Oprah what she thinks of my relationship problems think again. You should remember how I feel about her and Tyler Perry. They can stuff it. I should look up Oprah's site, I just can't bring myself to do it.

What I do do, is take a break from the quizzing and look up Wikipedia's definition of commitment phobe. There isn't much there on it, and honestly I could have gotten that out of a dictionary. I was afraid that my face wold be pictured there though...

On, I'm actually ready to settle down! They asked five simple questions. As opposed to tallying your response, it was a simple right or wrong. No subjective quiz should have answers like that but hey, it made me feel like there was a light at the end of the tunnel for me yet. Winning!

The last quiz come from A very extensive 38 question multiple choice and fill in the blank behemoth that really makes you feel like you've been probed. It was all fun and games though as I read the questions out loud to RFKAO. He already knows, based on everything we've talked about and experienced together that I do have some problems. Then again we met in rehab so that's pretty much a given. The results from that quiz are in the featured picture at the top by the way. Feel free to read through that. 

What these quizzes tell me is something I already knew, not to that extent, but I already knew. What the don't tell me is why? may have the answer to that. This article I found is on the longish side and I admit I didn't read the whole thing. Thus I can't tell you whether I agree with it completely or not. I figured since it is about one in the morning though I should mention it then think more on the topic through out the day in hopes of figuring out why I won't allow myself to be happy.  I should start a journey of self discovery or something. Or maybe I should just go to bed. 

Regardless The Photo Prompt will be up later for the Flash Fiction. That I CAN commit to, only because I can see the benefits of exercising my brain. That and there's really no effort there, you just enjoy yourself.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Versus: Team Single matches up against The UNFLUSHABLE

PNNU (Person Nick Name Unknown) is a great guy. I like him, RFKAO likes him, Chewy likes him, even a few other guys that happen to have met him like him. Everyone freaking likes him.

So what is the problem? Well I met him on a dating website Plenty of Fish. In his profile it says looking to date but nothing serious. My profile says no relationship or commitment of any kind. The problem is that everyone can see him trying to make this friendship into something deeper.

I felt myself being backed into a corner and panicked. RFKAO can see it and despite how great the guy is, he knows that this is not what I want. I love having a side kick. Purely for selfish reasons though I'm thinking RFKAO would rather me not date this guy. But he's got a good reason for it. Let me explain it so you can all agree that this person, though super duper shiny is not gold.

PNNU is still out of town. Week one goes by with out much hooplah from my end. Then the weekend arrives and I give him a courtesy call. First thing out this guy's mouth is, "Why haven't I heard from you?" Seeing as me and the roomy were both eating and playing with our phones, he got to witness my face when that question came up. I answered honestly and then got a five minute speech about how much it bothered him that I didn't call.

WWWHHHOOOOAAAAAAOOOOWWWWWWW Golly. Am I dealing with one of those people? Thanks to Woody's Single Life, people like that have a name. Introducing the Stage Five Clinger. Granted Ms. Woody was referring to women when she did her series, a good 90% of the characteristics of a Stage Five Clingers are not gender specific.

RFKAO and the rest of the crew of gay men I seems to be amassing on my speed dial, have already pictured me miserable with kids or worse, married to this looser. There's jokes and they are not funny. The little stories I make in my head, that never get on paper, all feature a woman in a cage trying desperately to break out. Yeah, I don't feel trapped at all. Nawwppp Not at All

At this point though I wasn't feeling that freaked out, until the two week mark. I get the most vile text ever. "I MISS YOU" Spent one week chilling and getting to know each other then one week away. How does someone miss a person you just met? When I asked how that was possible I got the creeper warning that, I should just accept that that is how he feels. Oh and to never mention that again. Not only did I kill the moment, but I upset him for saying such blasphemy. I'll admit that Ms. Townes was at the bar with all her guys present and she was drinking. They all read the thread. We agreed that if he ever said that in person I had every right to defend myself. I'm thinking Judo Chop, like go Bruce LeRoy Green on his azz. I AM the Last Dragon, watch me Glow.

This weekend was supposed to bring the arrival of PNNU back to San Diego. With a lot of needling on his part he actually managed to commandeer my Karaoke night so that we could spend some time together. He ended up staying out of town. All the guys were like come to Karaoke anyway. Lucky me I felt horrible, I only called PNNU to tell him I was crying off. He got mad.

Why is he mad, he's still out of town? And to make matters worse he later demanded to know why I don't return his text messages in a timely manner. I can and did explain how I'm not glued to my phone, but it wasn't enough because the next time he texted me, he fucking timed me. Seriously guy? You timed me. You fucking timed me. What kind of silly insecure bull shit is this? 

You know little things like this make me angry. In my mind if little things about me are going to irk them, then it's the end of the freaking world when something big happens. My buddy who does drag every now and then, upgraded him from five to twelve when he heard about the timing thing. Instant upgrade. I love it.

I'm past uncomfortable with this. Time to make him go away. So I tried to call him. No answer. Tried to leave a voice mail, mailbox full. The only thing left to do is send a text. I'm not a big fan of giving someone the boot via text. Smacks of my late twenty's. Once you hit thirty, in my opinion, you have to do things face to face, or if you have an unflushable like on Coupling, it's probably better to do it where you are relatively safe. You all should watch that show Coupling, it's on the BBC, despite the fashion being ten years out of date, all the relationship woes are still pretty much current.

So I devolved a little bit and had to bang out a text which I feel terribly bad about, but as PNNU's preferred form of communication seems to be texting I guess I should conform just this once and hope he doesn't put himself back on a plane right now and truly becomes unflushable. 

I could have waited until he came back to town and done this properly. I really could have. I don't see the point of that since then I'd have to deal with more of the above. I can't do it. 

For every nice thing he said there was always some caveat indicating something he'd like to change about me. If I'm so durn lovable why am I getting these little digs about my food being too spicy, my dog sleeping on my bed, the movies I watch to sleep, my time spent at volley ball, and/or everything else that I do? I'm happy with how Nurse Mom raise me. I'm going to raise the BS Flag on that PNNU and just call it like I see it. 

I think he'd rather Velcro himself to anyone (including me) than be alone. I'd rather be SINGLE then forced into a box. I guess I'll be standing by to stand by with a plunger. He's going down.