You know what-is-what… what the… FUCK?

Some male on this earth please explain to me the thought process behind text messaging somebody you met… A YEAR LATER. I received an anonymous message after 10 last night that said You want to get together sometime?

After poking-and-prodding the sender to figure out who the fuck doesn’t have his head screwed on straight, “Rob” from said (albeit, drunkly) he met me last year at Liquid and we werf svpose to go ovt and never did. (And apparently it took him 12 months to grow a pair to finally ask me out). Of course, I replied Are you drunk? Who is this? (again, asking who-the-fuck in the nicest way possible). Says drunkie: Not drunk i talked to you but we nevr went out i run trafic for cleveland hope that helps7. At this point, I don’t know if he DIRECTS traffic or RUNS Traffic, the bar — either way, again, I’m not interested and he’s not getting it.

This ass, not getting my texted display of disinterest, then exclaimed Flannery’s Monday night after work, to which I (again) stated No thanks. I’ve been dating someone for 7 months. Please lose this number, to which he — finally getting the hint — typed Gone.

Again. W.T.F., Cleveland Dating Pool?

But then to end all confusion on single men, I went and read about THIS guy. Dave Salmoni, RAWR! And here and here… and here. Did I mention RAWR? Hello, he hugs LIONS.

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