schadenfreude

So I am getting the most excellent, old-school traditional Libertarian-inspired tattoo Friday, I am most excited, photos to follow.

The new guy..... odd..... has not tried to get in my pants in the least. He's quiet. Hard to read. I'm not sure about this. I like loud, vulgar people, and he's kind of (OK extremely) the opposite. Super nice, super smart, but I'm really eh about the whole thing. He's fresh off a large breakup and tends to reference that whole thing disproportionately frequently so I'm wondering if perhaps he's just still hung up on that shit, which would be fine with me, then why is he pretending otherwise. Holy run-on sentence Batman.

Ah well. Doesn't matter anyway. The main thing is that the now ex-b.f.'s umbilical cord has been snipped. Bless his heart. There's still a ton of his shit at my house. I had a dream last night where four of his front teeth fell out and I was freaking out and insisting he go to the dentist immediately and he was like, eh, no big deal, I'll go later -- which really sums up the major issues in the relationship beautifully. Bizarre.

Bingo tonight. I'd like to win tattoo cash.