Laters, Babe

I never thought I would actually come through and write every day on this blog (well, give or take some days).
We all know I strongly believe that everything happens for a reason. Just as much as I don't believe that if you do good same will be done to you, or something like that. The more I barge into this world of writing, reading, and whatnot, the more sarcasm I grasp, the view gets different, and I feel like I am a male journalist from the 1950's. Why that age? Well, it has something to do with all in black and white, suits, and astonishingly beautiful women fucking up every man's life. To think things have changed. So, I have been reading 50 Shades of Grey. More and more each day. Yes, the book gets me to I point where I can actually feel Mr. Grey pull my hair and ask me to beg for him. wouldn't you think it is kind of crazy that the man I spend most time writing about on this blog is a more appropriate version of Christian himself? Oh, the irony is there, no doubt about it.
The balls are still in his court, and I am just waiting for the game to start (as if it ever ended, ha). I meant that in the best way possible, and not in the one you imagine as you read this. Let me tell you something, as much as I am complicated and confusing to everyone I know, that is exactly hoe much more men manage to phase me in the same way. You have learned to deal with my random train of thoughts so I hope you didn't get lost in the middle of the post. I am still here, as lucid as ever, managing to comply love into everything.
As I always share with you what I learn from my male-inflicted experience, let me show you around something that pisses me off. So, we are friends, right? It was made as clear as the Mediterranean Sea. And I have told you I hate talking on the phone, what do you do? You do not call me on my phone ever again, unless I suddenly change my mind (good luck with that).  As well as that, why do I give off the idea of being mad over texts? Excuse my lack of emotion as I send you a text saying ok lol. It's tragic, really, more than anything. I usually honestly do not mind phone calls if done with the right person, but damn straight you won't call me if I tell you no. It' such a simple response but funny how people can't accept it.
As I officially turned a randomly fucked up post into a rant about men who will never have a romantic chance with me, I see it is time for me to stop typing and go back to reading, because Grey' s body isn't going to touch itself.