This post could be robust with gratitude for the blessings I've encountered, but you've heard the lists and I'm sure have drafted one of your own. This is supposed to be a dating blog stuffed with humor and adventure, complimented by jaw-gaping reactions. So, for once, I'll give the people what they want.....Baha had to say that aloud. One thing I'm ever so thankful for is every day that passes without receiving an unsolicited dick pic. If you've been following DatesandCakes for awhile, you may recall the series on dick pics where I polled other women about their encounter with this sick fad and their reaction to them. My "favorite" (if you can select the best of the worst) dick pic (because I'm still in awe of his.... umm, creativity?) was the guy that decorated his dick with the drawing feature on snapchat and turned it into a turkey. You heard me--- err read me. Here's the story for extra laughs. This was Thanksgiving 2017, yet in 2019 I'm still dealing with the same issue, different volume. ;) This guy, Mr. South D, was nice and not too cute, so I thought I was safe. Safe from threats of getting hurt since he lived in another state, safe since he was a sports coach for adolescents, and safe since I have this facade that guys that don't look like Channing Tatum, nor are they striving to be of such man-candy stature, aren't going to be "skum between my toes." My reality OVER My expectationsWe My best friend has pointed out to me tirelessly that although she gets hurt too, at least the guys she dates "are more attractive. Steph, if the inevitable is heartbreak, at least it can be with a hottie that made you drool a little."
Well... can't quit cold turkey, but hopefully I won't have another Mr. South D. This guy seemed sweet, with a sprinkle of selfishness. We had a notorious Snapchat streak of pictures back and forth with silly pics for at least 40 consecutive days. Nothing sexual, nothing too boring-- just two flirty singles living day to day as 8 second pen-pals with 18 character messages. So, it was no stirring love story but, I didn't think it would end in an unsolicited dick video. Live and in action and something I thought this "sweet guy" wouldn't have just sprung on me OUT OF NO WHERE. My favorite part is that when I gave it to him (don't get excited, I mean screamed via text about what warranted that and how other recipients may have liked it, but I felt it was disrespectful) and he never denied sending it to other girls. THEN, to add to it, he BLOCKED ME. So, to exemplify my surprise, here's your surprise pieWith all that candy, it seems sweet, but the flavors may just be a little too much. INGREDIENTS
INSTRUCTIONS
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So, I don't have any dates .....to report since I've genuinely been dating myself (music festivals, craft beer, diy fashion, beignets.... there's no cap to the sweetness), but I have some pretty entertaining conversations to share over the next couple posts..... Of course this boy met the first requirement of having blazing blue eyes. He kicked things off in a flirty manner, with sexual undertones, naturally. He was quite beautiful, yet quite aware of that surface beauty. He sent me 14 pictures, all selfies of himself in different poses and shirtless. Sure, to many, this may be a dream but all I could think was.... gosh I hope he's not on some strict diet, burgers and fries are a delicacy for me.
The more words that were exchanged, the less interested I became. This boy was dense as a sack of bricks. My vocabulary is not complex, yet he kept questioning words I was asking. He needed clarification for practically everything! I felt like I was tutoring again. Then, he sent me a picture that wasn't in the Inbox, so it was a live one that you had to click out of to make it disappear. Instantly, the anticipation of a dreaded dick pic consumed me. For hours, I never opened it. Turned out, it was just another harmless selfie..... It was quite liberating for me to walk away from a guy with washboard abs. This total babe was built like a brick house with a box of matches and armful of candles for electricity; at first thought, that seems romantic, but the wick will burn out. I walked away because I wasn't interested, not because he thought I wasn't enough physically or quite literally too much physically since he had polished six pack. But, he was less than suave and then unfriended me! Sometimes what I find myself telling guys is something I needed to hear myself.So, you've heard about endless dick pics and possibly read about them on my blog several times before. .... but you haven't heard my approach to reduce this kind of unwanted assault to my eyes: Okay here's why I'm weird about pictures. Because I'm more than just a tight ass and a beaming pair of green eyes. Like I understand looks are important to you but at the end of the day, once I relinquish pictures of my body or engage in stuff with my body and the person is not the least bit interested in me as a person, then it's meaningless and makes me feel really empty. So, I refuse to stop making myself feel that way. There are like 4 billion dudes in this world, so... no need to be anything but who I am to impress just one. Odds are, other(s) will react differently. Or insightful; stay thirsty my friends.Firework state of mindThe lengths these guys will go to to get some! Think 'm exaggerating? Take a stroll from South Carolina to Cali to Oklahoma. Meanwhile, there's one presently texting me from Texas to come over since he called in sick for work tomorrow..... Mr. Hoping for a touchdownMr. Off his wooden horseMr. Needs JesusThis guy was as predictable as a carousel. Bright lights and painted horses, with music any girl would be privileged to hear all overcompensating for an inflated Pride and a feeble personality. Boasting and posting as a noble Steed, he was merely a barnyard pet. Straight from a dating site, he texted this juvenile narrative, which in this message, he cast me as the lucky female role. Although I could have made this up, my story would have been much more elaborate and convincing... Here are his words. I want to be sitting on your porch when you come in from work tonight. I'm sure you'll be tired and maybe even a little grumpy but I'd just give you a really long, tight, warm hug. I'd glide my fingers down the back of your arm and lace my fingers inbetween yours holding your hand and with my other hand I'll gently place it on your neck and just give you the most passionate kiss ever. I'd just wrap my hands around your hips and pull you really close to me I'd just look into your eyes and give you a cute nose kiss and then tell you to go grab a change of clothes. I'd sit on your porch until you came back out. And I'd just embrace you with another hug and whisper in your ear. I'd hold your hand and we'd walk to my car so I could drive you back to my place. we'd go into my room and I'd just collapse on that bed pulling you on top of me. I'd wrap my arms around you and just adore that gorgeous smile of yours. I'd begin to make out with you for a few minutes doing nothing more than resting my hands on your hips and gently feeling your ass. I'd stand back up and I'd tell you to get comfortable so I could give you a massage. I'd step out of the room to grab some lotion or something and come back in to find you in nothing but your bra and panties. (I'd loose my mind 😍) Although his imagery was quite colorful, I'm not the slight bit interested in his copy and paste, pick animals with white sprinkles carousel.He only supplies the animal crackers (in my soup), so you'll have to create your own happy ending for this one.....
https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchen/frosted-animal-cracker-carousel-cake-5238246.amp No longer in the shadows.....When did intimacy become casual? Or better yet, when did it become an expectation?I felt a bit hesitant about posting the imagery leading up to denied intimacy in last night's post, "Mr. Blade." Overall, I feel like it was a good read and decent writing BUT, I feared readers would slap a label on me like a can of soup. Chicken Prudle Soup. "Why didn't you just sleep with him? It isn't a big deal..." But maybe that was my point. Why isn't it a big deal whom I decide to let in, more than just physically? When did it stop becoming one? He didn't even call me beautiful or anything other than sexy. Every person is beautiful (yes, you reading this). I just want to know when sex became as casual as day drinking. Has it become a 2019 standard to reward a mediocre dinner and a few over-priced cocktails for sex? While what-- I twirl my balayage hair, holding $23 of product and most of my self-esteem? And then what? I'm left with unraveling attachment, an additional "notch in my lipstick case," and underground worth. All while he thinks about.... I don't know-- ANYTHING ELSE. Even if the guy in no form or fashion was prince charming, thoughts of "why was I not enough to stay" suffocate me. It's a form of rejection I can't combat. The standard deviation is the perception of the interactions with these intimacies. This blog is a platform for scrutiny in its purest form. It is a tightrope between Slut Shaming or Prude Patronizing, either way, you fall flat on your face. So, you keep your little black book in your dresser or turn it into a blog. Guess I took the road less traveled and yet I still hesitate. I hold back details that could reveal the identity of the "misters" that have made their debut. I insinuate very little about the physical course of every interaction to allow an element of mystery and one of imagination for the reader. With imagination comes great responsibility and... apparently judgement.One of my "fans" left a comment branding me as a "slut" and this blog being "proof." Ahh! There's the slut shaming you were talking about, Stephanie. What's humorous to me is the vast assumption made that I sleep with all these misters. Not to mention, the reinforcement of that "standard" that if a guy buys you craft beers at a Minneapolis brewery, brings you flowers before taking you to the Charleston Ballet, or even takes you to Disney World for a first date, you're obligated to sleep with him. Well, spoiler alert: of those three lavish, but real dates I went on, I didn't sleep with any of them.
Now wait a minute.... He took you Disney and you didn't get intimate with him? How was that not a home-run? And THAT'S the prude patronizing I'm talking about. Either way, I'M WRONG. I've lived my whole life not wanting to cause any trouble or be in it. I've been driven by guilt, far-fetched promises, one-sided relationships, and acceptance. I've apologized for things I didn't do and problems I couldn't have begun to ignite. I've been a doormat in floods and used up like a marker; even the brightest marker in the box runs out of ink. So, I guess mostly for myself, but also for the "misters" mentioned here and soon to come (I have at least 8 stories itching to be revealed from the last couple weeks ;) I'm not sorry that I didn't sleep with you even if you expected it or felt like you deserved it. Such a crazy thing for me to type... but, I think I mean it. Yeah, I do :)) Standard recipe? Bring your own icing and write your sweet ending.Depths of blue eyes, I breathed. Haven’t I been here before, I thought to myself. Yes, but not with this particular pair. Not like this. He was a roommate of an ex (ages ago) that I never really thought twice about. Married and grinding away at this thing called life in the state I left behind, he only crossed my mind when he crossed my Snapchat. Mr. Blade, we’ll call him, because he had the potential to cut right through me, was always the flirty type. He began with jovial jousting of words and smiles were exchanged, along with quick-witted responses. A common love of traveling was revealed and then a suggestion of visiting each other’s town: mine, a quiet beach town with a twang and his, a Hispanic city of significance with culture to match. “Yeah, you and your wife are welcome to crash on the futon,” I typed. “Oh Steph, we’ve been divorced for 2 years now,” he typed back. In a mischievous manner, I was relieved, but shared a response of empathy, to which he dispelled immediately. “Shit happens.” Not the sharing or feeling type… I have been here before. The walkway to his apartment was lit with string lights over artificial grass. He guided me through the countless gates of security and illuminated the elevator button for second floor from the top. His front door too was opened with an electric chip. Guiding me through his modern palace, I felt his cold eyes on my skin, as my eyes wandered the different rooms and patches of decor. As we drifted into the kitchen, he breathed something coy and as I fired back, he lifted me onto the granite island. “Time to address this tension,” he smirked. Completely unaware that there was enough tension to address, I cackled as he brushed my unruly bangs out of my emerald eyes. His lips pressed hard against mine and he gripped the back of my curly head. Hard-pressed to reject an invitation for adventure, I kissed back. The fingers to my left hand lightly massaged the back of his blonde hair, while my right hand clutched his bicep. Breathing heavily after several, several moments, he inquired of my appetite for something other than him. Chuckling, I put my freckled hand in his as we strolled alongside the river to a fabulous Mexican restaurant. The date was everything a date should be: great ambiance, warm company, and chivalry galore. From pulling out my chair upon arriving at our teal table and crimson chairs, to planning a drive-by-viewing of a plate I thought looked dreamy, to paying, he was a gentleman. He even entertained my request for photography reinforcements. Instead of exploring the city, as expected, he lead me back to his security-clearance apartment. It's as if we picked up where we left off on the granite counter top, but this setting was a bit more comfortable. While kissing on his Tempur-Pedic bed, he kept moving my "wispy" hair in-between nips at my fair neck. Uttering the words I loathe, I closed my eyes so he couldn't see them roll. "I want you so bad" ricocheted off the walls of my cranium. Again, again, again, I thought. But then his blue eyes broke my train of thought. His kissing slowed and his gaze lengthened. He looked at me-- really saw me and I sighed. I felt like we stayed in that moment. It was our moment and I was captivated. Almost paralyzed with lust, I almost buckled, like my knees would have if we were standing. He's everything. This is right. Maybe if I just..... but my self-discipline hijacked the whimsical soundtrack. You know how this ends; you have been here before with these blue-eyed beauties. I pulled away in more ways than one and partook in another form. After recovery, he caressed me and slept skin-to-skin. Sweating from the blue-eyed furnace against me, I smiled even in my absence of sleep. The next morning, he surprised me with kisses throughout the day between flashes of his baby blues. When the chance to venture into the city presented itself, he caressed me and were back into a spiral of seduction. Passionate, but patient, we kissed with intent. Tugging at my high-waisted shorts, I sheepishly revealed the presence of "mother nature." Displeased, he suggested a towel. I scoffed, "this is like our first time hanging out- hanging out." "We've known each other for years..." "Yeah, but even if I wasn't on my period, I still probably wouldn't." I knew that was possibly a declaration of war, but I was tired of being the casualty of every "connection" I misread for something more. Naturally, he played it cool and offered a shower option. I considered it, but again, the emotions taunted me. I couldn't afford to relinquish that kind of control when I was still rebuilding. I caught glimpse of those eyes and his smile coaxed continuation of kisses. They weren't soft, but steamy. They beckoned more as his body tensed beneath me. I complied as whispers of my name filled the air. I longed for that feeling, but swallowed it. We laid there staring at the ceiling as I hinted at his earlier proposal of the shower. "I could be up for that," he uttered, motionless. He laid there while my patience and ability to hold my tongue dissipated. My next hint was as subtle as Christmas lights in January, yet his only advancement was towards his phone. WOW. I laid there fuming. Thank God I was on my period. Thank God I didn't allow his blue eyes to cut right through me.... completely. Knowing this wasn't a trip to earn a boyfriend, it also wasn't a trip I thought I'd be in his bed. My naive heart read more of a friendly vibe that maybe would turn into a drunken make-out but not this. Not a selfish repeat of a previous encounter(s). I grabbed my phone to pacify my climbing rage. He made attempts at conversation while I offered a cold, freckled shoulder. Precise responses sprinkled with a pleasant front, were served to him luke-warm before inquiring about dinner plans. He suggested a burger place and a genuine smile returned to my face. As I rode shotgun like a dog in a country song, my restraint to hold my tongue disappeared. "You know, I thought you were different, but you turned out to be like everybody else. I'm so much more than a good lay... it's so exhausting." Yup. I actually told the man driving me around and sharing his bed with me that he was like everybody else. Like Gretchen Weiners, I had cracked. Practically speechless, Mr. Blade sputtered, "more than a good lay?" Laughing in my head that those words left my lips, I shrugged my shoulders and nodded with a smirk the size of the state of Texas. After what I'd been through in Pensacola, I vowed to no longer tolerate belittling and manipulation. If things aren't in my best interest, I'm probably going to take "two steps to the left and then take it back now y'all. Chacha real smooth..." Needless to say, the blue-eyed Mr. Blade bid his time. We made conversation like strangers at a bar while stuffing branded burgers into our mouths. When we returned to the near penthouse apartment, I voiced frustration with his failure to follow through with his suggestion for shower play, because at this point, I was in competition mode. This attempt again supported my claim that he was like everybody else. I felt like an unattended Halloween bowl of candy with a sign reading, "please take only two." EMPTY. Many of the guys I've talked to belong in the sea because they are Sel-fish. When you have to take care of yourself anyways, it makes even the brightest of blues seem dim. Sigh. So I bought myself a drink at a bar on the river, had a ball fighting Tropical Depression Imelda back to his gated, guarded, locked-down apartment... much like something else alluded to here... After ringing myself out, I offered to sleep on the couch and Mr. Blade declined. So, alas, another sleepless night with a blue-eyed furnace spooning me. This night, I knew I was nothing more than a space-holder. Although he probably thinks he's cutting me out of his life, I've been on a bit a purge lately so.... Like Bonquiqui, boy, "I will cutttttt you."Mr. Blade's dessert would be fudge, since that's his favorite verb. Melt a bag of chocolate chips, like you normally would with blazing blue eyes. Then drizzle condensed milk over the melted madness. Stir with uneven expectations and then make it cold, like you both are after it's all said and not "done."Bras strung like Christmas lights beaming proudly weeks into the new year, country twang in the air, and the sound of beer bottles being poured and sloshed became our immediate future.. This was our introductory to the notorious Flora-Bama Bar. The blonde best friend and I were at it again as we explored our new watering hole. It had the atmosphere of a larger "Billy Bob's" with an Alabama attitude. I was designated driver and.... you guessed it, she was designated drunk. After getting her numerous Jack and Cokes, we made our way to the main stage where of course, we stumbled upon an attractive, well-dressed man. Would it really be blog-worthy if there wasn't a story to tell ? A strawberry blonde-haired man made a comment in our direction when someone stumbled by, baptizing the three of us in a sticky red liquid. The conversation ignited and the flirting and competition commenced. It was hard to read which of which one of us he was in to. Not just initially, but the entirety of the night. His parents were close by and the man later identified as his stepfather, made a winced kind of face while scanning my blonde best friend's cleavage and short shorts. Her and I both read the look like chapter 1 of a World Lit. class. The man in pursuit introduced both of us to his parents. He kept making jokes that well, "y'all have already met my parents..." like it was a unit kind of thing. Then, he made a comment that we were both gorgeous and naturally, I deflected it (just the compliment towards me. The blonde bestie is hella gorgeous). He went out of his way to reinforce his compliment. To which I retracted again, because that's just who I am. Not a compliment fisher... I have very little patience for fishing even though I've dated enough fisherman to feed the crowd of 500 where Jesus performed the miracle of 5 leaves and 2 fish. God knows I need a miracle-- but don't we all? He seemed genuine and offered to buy us drinks. When I informed him of my appointed position of responsibility for the night, he respected it, but his smile faded ever so slightly. During one of my blonde best friend's potty breaks, Mr. High Maintenance Insurance (good name right? Just wait for it...) gazed at the stage while a likely intoxicated blonde in a black dress did a seductive dance. Before being escorted off the stage by security, she slipped off her bra and hung it among the other hundreds on one of the ropes overhead. Turning to me, Mr. High Maintenance said, "now THAT girl is high-maintenance." Smiling, since I am textbook, ink-line, and sinker the opposite of that, I nodded. His blue eyes would have made my bra fall off if my best friend wouldn't have returned a moment later. [I will not lose all control when peering into blue eyes. I will not.... oh gosh!! *knees buckle*] As the night progressed with two country-fied girls, a cute 32-year-old, and his parents, the music became more and more appetizing to a dancers heart. As my hips continued to sway, my innate two-stepping skills (that were practically branded in me from my 16 years calling Texas my home) took precedence in the moment. Watching this closely, Mr. High Maintenance Insurance grabbed my hand with a flick as I spun into laughter and eventually his arms. We danced for 3 or 4 songs. And then, like a buttermilk pancake, he flipped me. My face definitely said it all. My mouth agape, I gasped for air. "Oh, was that okay?" He smirked. The blonde best friend joined us on the dance floor as we returned to standing position. He took this opportunity to request both of our phone numbers. As the band continued to play, she revealed to me that his mom ran into her in the bathroom and informed my bestie that she had the best boobs she had ever seen. What? While I was still processing the information, he tugged on her arm lightly and they made their way to the bar. Damn. This all happened so fast, and the guy goes to..... the girl with mom-approved boobs. Oh, and in case you haven't had the privilege of reading up on the blonde bestie, there is a link below. Some of you may even have encountered her, or girls like her. Don't get me wrong-- she is one of a kind, but she requires a lot of attention. A LOT. She admits it. But... definitely is classified by guys and herself as HIGH MAINTENANCE. Yet he told her he was into her, even though he told me that the girl that hopped on the stage and threw her bra up on the rope was high maintenance. Am I missing something? And I know insurance.... I SELL IT FOR A LIVINGI was at a loss for words and the affection or chance with this man, I consulted a couple of my guy friends about the situation and the jury is out: It was a form of manipulation-- insurance if you will in case things with the bestie didn't work. It was explained to me like this: Steph, that's like a guy telling an obvious intellect that "dumb girls are not his type" and then going for an airhead. If the airhead would've have gone for him, he already laid the groundwork for the intellect. Insurable GlazeFor the man full of hot water, he is simply a sugary glaze on a strawberry scone. Mix one part hot water with four parts powdered sugar. It drizzles well on low and high-maintenance scones of all kinds.
Since my life has not been flavorful enough, and I struck out with so many military guys in a row, 7 or so, as if I were counting... I plunged into a more devious dating pool. In the 370+ blog posts of Dates and Cakes history, I've certainly met my fair share of physically-driven men that, to put it bluntly, only care about one thing. My intelligence of course LOL ...not likely. So, I decided to change my mind-frame for a little and entertained the world of shallow pursuit. I was exhausted from hoping a guy would live up to his intentions, and was ready for something a little more black and white. You are who you say you are. You're just in it for sex? Awesome. At least it's in the open. Please don't make me a part of any more games;
Which may be worse.... because we know all too well I typically don't give out my heart- that's child's play. I downloaded a sugar daddy app. GASP! I've read other blogs and heard tales of girls that match with older men just wanting a companion. Someone to take to dinner, someone to talk to. I could talk to a wall. Actually I may or may not have had a pretty in-depth conversation about the Russian War with a wall once. Any who... I uploaded a few pictures and words about myself, like any other dating app and watched the colorful requests file in. I knew it wasn't for me like escargot, but you have to just try it once, right? It was time to embark on this different app, since none of my prior guy interactions have really gone off without a "hinge." The very first guy I began conversing with was older, experienced in years, divorced with a couple of kids, and of course (when trying to entice a girl like me) a world traveler. He was a blue-eyed middle-aged gentleman I'll refer to as Mr. Submarine. No. He was not into The Beatles.The very first guy actually older than he posted, but wasn't in the slightest bit creepy. He was genuinely impressed of the depth of our conversation. We dined at a prestigious place on the water, on the edge of downtown called Atlas. A title most suiting for a traveler such as myself. My palate for whiskey seemed to impress him as the conversation carried over quiet roar of the slinging of bottles and clattering of plates. It was if it were any ole date; we laughed, we flirted, and we drank. He had gauged a level of trust in our meeting in he revealed his true intentions..... can you guess by his name? Mr. Sub He was seeking a loyal sub, to enlighten their world. I kindly declined and tried with all my might to play it off, when internally I was sweating, struggling, and stressing beyond that of a student prepping for the lsats. I survived the remaining minutes of the date, hugged him goodbye, and retreated to the side of my blonde best friend. Nothing like Elle Woods, but like any true friend, found humor in my flavor of the week. How my Catholic-school-reared rear thought I could possibly dabble in this world is Greek to me! The dessert most suiting for my only sugar daddy date is: ypovrichio or “submarine sweets.”Ipovrichio – Submarine
Vanilla flavor: 480gr granulated sugar 250gr water 1Tbsp corn syrup 1Tbsp lemon juice vanilla flavoring Combine the sugar, syrup, and water in a medium saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon until the sugar dissolves, and cover the pan for 5 minutes to allow the sugar to wash down the sides. Uncover the pan, add lemon juice and vanilla to taste, and clip a candy thermometer to the inside of the pan (being certain that the tip of the thermometer doesn’t touch the bottom of the pan ); cook the mixture to 115 C degrees. Total cooking time for the batch falls between 20 and 25 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and pour the contents into a heat proof bowl. Let fondant cool down at room temperature to 40C. Then place the fondant mixture in a bowl and work with a wooden spatula until it becomes opaque, or place the fondant mixture in your mixer bowl and, with the hook attachment, let it mix until opaque. You can store it in a glass or plastic storage container at room temperature for six to eight months. Serve a teaspoonful of ''submarine'' in a glass full of ice cold water. http://cookmegreek.blogspot.com/2013/06/fondant-la-grec-delicious-sugar.html?m=1 Tangelo (n): hybrid between a romantic and a rat. Every word he or she composes is zested flavor, but upon delivery beyond a screen, they fall short. Their intentions are truly rotten and remains lurk near sewers. No subtly in this post. This man must have set a record with how quickly he made me bitter. I know, I know. A guy starts spitting perfectly arranged words at you behind a screen on a tired dating app, should hold very little relevance. But call me vulnerable. Call me naive. The first is probably more true. But, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I believed him. This guy was super cute and seemed genuine. Or maybe I just wanted him to be. He opened with a warm compliment about my smile, in which I jokingly replied was only appealing because of the many toothless smiles in this area. He cracked up, but reassured me. Great sense of humor too, check. It was as if he was playing a game of Dance Dance Revolution. Synchronizing arrows to the illuminated foot square. He couldn't wait to meet me he couldn't stop complimenting me, he was sweet, and he was interested. I knew deep down that he could very well be spitting the same things to other girls, but I didn't think it would text so close to home, again. Should I continue the story or do you already know where this is going? He had also been spitting almost identical messages of affection and longing to my blonde, bff roommate. I felt like I was in a 2008 R&B song.....She said they had talked while I was in Spain and he stopped talking to her because he got a girlfriend. He found her again on the site the day after we realized he was a word Romeo, and began zesting the conversation with hopeful compliments. Immediately, she addressed the situation and he said he missed her and made amistake makingthe other girl his girlfriend. Meanwhile, back at the office, I was slammed with work and didn't check his snap message until later. When I did, it was erased. I guess I'll never know what it said (more fragrant fluff, lacking genuine girth). I inquired, but he refused. He didn't inform me of the happenings, my bff did. So... when I was filled in on the details, she said they had a date established. I'm sorry.... what? Why was her appeal to someone whom was quick to dress up a stranger in messages, but hoped to undress a girl he "should've picked" the first time? In conclusion, he did just that. At dawn before their date, she asked honestly what his intentions were. She specifically prefaced that if it were for sex, she wouldn't be mad, but would just would like to know. She didn't have to squeeze him for information... he pealed the romantic facade right off. "Just sex." "You asshole!" *block* All that was left was his pulp.... Since this is the most unappetizing flavor of the week, the dessert should illustrate that.....I could NOT think of a better dessert. Each ingredient is another line that "sounded good" for him to throw at some innocent girl.
Okay, okay.... I know neither my roommate or myself fall in the innocent girl category, but hey! This still doesn't warrant Mr. Tangelo's actions.
When playing with Shoots and Ladders, I should have exercised caution....Before starting the finale of Mr. Shoots and Ladders, I must highlight that I did NOT know the end of this fling upon choosing his name. Dare I say, this pretense is foreshadowing for how this unfolded. I climbed the ladder of date number two to his home in a small town, 35 minutes away. He introduced me to the interesting world of disc golf, in which I found out I’m not as atrocious as I thought.... Every sport I’ve ever played, I’ve won most spirited (dad was NOT proud); this game however, I had a decent overhead toss. I threw it with such fury that actually went places. Built up anguish? Nah. It didn’t hurt that he encouraged me with kisses along with the way of the course. We returned to his house where he made queso mac and cheese and something else I can’t remember. He cooked like a high schooler when his parents were out of town and they forgot to leave pizza money. I guess I didn’t mind the change of pace. He put on a movie, which seemed to be our MO but the slow, intentional kissing was an enjoyable sequel. It was the kind of kissing where your lips linger and the moment matters; it drew us from his couch to his bedroom. I ended up spending the night in his campfire-of-a-room so, I grabbed my handy dandy revolving fan that just so happen to be in my backseat. Why such a random hidden gem? Cuz I'm that cool, okay? We had pillow talk about exes and seemed to be starting something. Yet, I knew the shoot was just around the corner. Because I'm a female and I certainly have a crazy factor to me, a little bit of Facebook creeping revealed his mysterious ex shared the same name as me and attended the same University. A little bit too much of a coincidence for me... But I pushed the eerie fact aside. Upon discussing our next meeting, he revealed that it would again have to be at his house since his car was disabled as part of his legal agreement for his recent DUI. Damn Steph, again? Did you not learn from the guy that begged you to drink 3 glasses of water at a bar so he could pass his breathalyzer? What about the one that was day-drinking since 10 am and refused to take an Uber over driving his truck across three bridges with 17-inch tires? "Shoot," some girls don't learn their lessons.... Exercising forgiveness, I didn’t write him off. Then, he revealed he’s much more of a pot smoker, but since he’s in the military, he goes for things that don’t show up on a drug test. Ignorant when it comes to drugs and their chemical affect and ability to trace on a drug test, I inquired which drugs could he possibly pass a drug test with. "Shrooms and acid," he responded plainly. "I just like to sometimes unwind and not feel something." I have no clue why I didn't "feel something" about that red siren of a statement, but I proceeded with this fling that was guaranteed, in my mind, to be only that. Directly leading up to date number three, we exchanged some flirty texts at work. I'll be candid and reveal that I was the one that rolled the dice and "started it." After all, I like playing the game.... Okay, okay.... when I say flirty, I mean steamy, in the back of a parked car, with Rose’s hand marking through the condensation on the window. Woops? Hey, it made a Monday feel like a Friday in a blink and a wink... or 3. Date three was composed of Buffalo chicken dip with tortilla chips (another crafted after school special) and time enjoying my fan in the heat of the moments. The clock was the only "shoot," because I had to be up at 4 am to leave for my 4th of July trip. In the morning, he gave me a compliment and a coffee to-go. During my trip, he kept his distance aside from leaving a comment on my selfie for my night-out in West Virginia. A simple, "look at you." I didn't really know how to respond, so I sent an emoji. Then, days later after returning and a little radio silence, I landed on the ultimate "shoot." My response was totallyyyyyyyy falsified. Upon reading this, I was hurt, vulnerable, and at a self-esteem All Time Low (no relation to the fabulous punk band). My best friend swooped in and saved the day with advice for my response. Refusing him anymore power, she encouraged me to lie through my teeth and make it seem that not only was I not feeling this interaction either, but I was going to have the decency to end the fling in person. What hurt the most was the fact that a guy with fresh DUI and an avid acid dropper dumped ME! A girl with a great head on her shoulders, a brighter future, mastery cooking skills, treasure chest of jokes, and a heart of the rarest gold couldn't keep a guy like that. But then, it fazed me... What kind of self-deprecating train am I riding that would make me want a guy that admittedly wanted to feel numbness and would go to such great lengths to achieve it? Even though he's the one trippin' acid.... I certainly did my share of trippin' ;) To add insult to injury, he dropped my fan at my front door before I got off work. Now that's something I'm not a fan of... Mr. Shoots and Ladder's dessert is.....Because I'm still a little salty and it can only go up from here....
Remember my emphasis on how small of a town Pensacola is? Remember Mr. Roadtrip Rascal? Well, he's back. In Black and sloshed. While enjoying the tipsy 2 o'clock hour, at Seville, the only club in the whole panhandle (okay, I'm slightly exaggerating) someone lanky and completely out of control of their muscular system came into my view. Oh. My. Gosh. It's the dude I went to New Orleans with, Mr. Roadtrip Rascal himself. I don't know what was the most entertaining about this encounter:
"Roadtrip Rascal," I called. "Oh, hey," as he imposed the most uncomfortable hug of my life. "You ignored my wave." Again, ignoring me, he walked away. He not only responded to my text from a week ago, but he had the audacity to drunk dial me. CURVE. curve No dessert necessary.In continuation of the boy's view... I had to set the soundtrack to the tune of this peanut butter and JAM from back in the day! #youtubeitnowThis project with polling friends, strangers, crushes, ex-flings, ex-wanna-be-flings, guys I've never met, and people I've only met once and there was a high probability we were intoxicated has really opened up the avenue for expression. Some of these responses were 10X longer than the quote submitted.Some responses were "off the record" while others lasted deep into the night. The benefit from the raw responses is obscene, for me at least. I hope you've found some sort of enjoyment in them--- maybe even a tilt in perception?"Girls like excitement and different things excite them at different phases of their life. At some point for some people its hittin the club or jumpin on and off a jet. If they see someone that can facilitate what excites them it attracts them. Nice guys are mostly shy and respectful. Most of their moves are calculated and I'm assuming they're also focused on a goal or something passion related. This is not always exciting because it might mean not going out all the time, telling the girl at the bar you think she's gorgeous, or doing other whimsical things." "Maybe just cuz the girls are dumb 😂" "I started to portray bad guy tendencies because I was always the good guy. I think there is a balance. Just have to figure out what works." "Two possibilities spring to mind here. The first is that the women in question are just incredibly immature to the point that they still crave excitement over stability. The other option is that there is an inherent desire to build something with your partner. If the guy you’re dating doesn’t own anything other than the motorcycle he picks you up on and the clothes on his back you’ve got a blank slate if the guy you’re dating owns a house has a good full-time job and a great credit score you have to make your life fit into his." "Simple. Bad is fun, or it seems that way. The highs seem higher because the lows are so much lower... who doesn’t love adrenaline?" "Most girls tend to date assholes bc they want that tough guy. If a guy is too nice, they think, he's not tough- he can't protect me." "because bad boys trigger attraction in a woman subconsciously. they display certain qualities or the illusion of. a “good” guy doesn’t trigger attraction; things like being a leader of men, protector of loved ones,they also give masculine energy and embody it. Whereas, a good guy in this day and age is more in tune with feminine energy in a world where men are raised by women, it's not really shocking. A bad boy will take a pic of girl in lingerie. A good boy will ask before taking the pic. By asking, the women lose attraction immediately on such a deeper subconscious level." "I don't know, Steph. I asked myself that question all the time." "One thought is that original sin came from Eve...so naturally women gravitate toward the “badder” of the bad guys. But that would be only if I wanted to start an argument. 🤣" "I've tried to get girls to drop the bad boy type a few times." "So, for 6 years, I was the bad guy to a beautiful soul. It wasn’t so much that I was a “bad guy”, i just grew up super rough and it made me appreciate the fine things in life. Yeah, I was wild and crazy, but I loved that girl with everything that I had, and did everything I could to keep her happy. I was her first boyfriend, first kiss, first everything, and we worked. Not only would I have given up anything for her, I think the excitement of new things for her was an attraction. Our families never really got along, her family hated me for “ruining” their daughter, no matter how much we loved each other. It got to be way too stressful, so like an idiot, i broke things off." "I would have been considered a "bad guy" when i was a youngster. 19-24ish. Trying to speak in code here...i was living a fast paced life style with money and access to things. The allure of the unknown is what i would say is so intriguing to young people men and woman alike. Now that i am older the bad guy thing has an entirely diff meaning." "A beta male is insecure. He is always going to text you, going to tell you he loves you and are pretty with lines. An alpha male has a foundation and is always going to be there for you but not always remember to tell you he loves you. A bad boy is more like a betta that has no concern for anyone but himself. He doesn't care about your emotions or tailoring things to you and part of that is how are you were raised specifically in relation to your father's role. He'll only give you attention when he wants to, kind of like a cat. When the cat gives you attention, you're like oh my gosh this is so great let me pet you! But when you want to pet the cat, it's nowhere to be seen." “I’m guessing here... dating a ‘bad’ guy may represent higher social currency as bad guys are usually troubled or emotionally unavailable. Another theory may suggest people like projects and the idea of changing or helping a bad dude improve seems interesting." "Girls like a guy with an edge. "Bad" guys will get girls over a guy who is perceived as boring every time. Then girls wanna complain why they cant get a "good" guy." " I think women love the chase. I think everyone loves the chase. We all want what we can have. I think it starts off as maybe enjoying being around each other. I think also a lot of guys have got hurt and dont wanna deal with it again and they wont try. But they also wont communicate with you about it. We also live in a society where more is better. So why be monogamous when you can have a ton of bitches! Hahah. But those are my thoughts. Everyone is different and depends on the person." "Because people are inherently stupid?" "I'm gonna cop out and say I think it depends on the woman. The only "real" answer is that it gives them something they want. Maybe she's lonely, or doesn't like to be lonely so she just grabs the first guy who pays her real attention. Which is usually some "bad guy" who just wants to get laid steady. Or for the night lol. Sometimes they see "good guys" as boring and they want some excitement in their lives. The list is very very long because each woman is looking for a different thing, wether they realize it or not. I don't think a woman says "you know what, Melvin the Engineer is a boring guy, I'm going to go down to the club and find a jerk because at least there will be something of note in my life," but subconsciously they make decisions based on what benefits them/gives them whatever it is they're looking for." "Haha I am an ex-bad boy, I hung up my badness in 2013 I believe. I'm just old now haha. Most of the girls that dated me then was because i was unpredictable, adventurous, never dull and for a select few it was to piss off their parents basically. But those relationships are always short lived or they could be hardly classified as relationships. Mainly just summer flings. And most bad boys end up like me living a mundane existence and single lol unless they settle down early or continue to be fuckboys well into their 40s I'm that kinda middle ground I guess? " "That kinda brings up another topic. You can't control who you're attracted to, but you CAN control who you dwell on or invest time in. At what point does the "badness" outweigh that attractionIt could also be statistics, too. It sounds like there are a lot more bad boys out there than good guys, maybe the good/bad part is irrelevant and it's something unrelated that attracts someone. But since there are statistically more bad boys, there is a better chance of finding someone you're attracted to who happens to be a bad boy." "My theory is as follows: women are nurturers and have been since the beginning of time. When a "good girl" sees a "bad guy" they are attracted to them because it's not what they are used to...it's "exciting" I suppose. So as nurturers the "good girl" wants to tame the wild beast 😂 She wants to make him change his ways and show all the other females that she was the one to conquer the untamable. But the funny thing is people don't change unless they want to. So it usually ends up a big heartbreaky mess. So the moral of the story is you have to love someone for who they are, not what you want them to be." The sweet side of bad boys can be illustrated by a Snickers Drama Cheesecake. It will dance on your tatsebuds, never last as long as you want, and caters to your nutty side...A girl that can see what she's getting into and still indulge, truly is a degree of nuts (guilty as this chocolate covered sin). For the crust::
For the cheesecake filling::
For the topping::
For the filling:
For the topping:
https://www.handletheheat.com/snickers-cheesecake/ A continuation of why girls, the really great girls, fall for bad boys....Are we imprisoned by their edgy look and questionable ambition.... or is it something deeper?"Bad boys are genetically more fun. Who wants to follow the rules? There's just something so much more appealing to me. They dress better, they have a sleeve of tattoos, and if you're lucky, a motorcycle. My mom and sister said they too would love states for my current bad boy. Bad boys are naturally players and of your psyche, your ID is narcissistic, so these boys feed that sense of self. If you get the bad boy, you feel like the girl next door. " "I was heartbroken and he gave me enough attention and kind of made me feel like I was needed. Even though on you, deep down. It wouldn't go anywhere. I was in a place where he fit the bill. The one time I didn't want something long-term." Your standards aren't even there and you were needing somebody and they were there." " I was much younger than I am now and much less experience than I am now when these bad boys made their way into my life. I was such a good girl and a good girl wants a bad boy. I was 16 and he was a bad boy and all his friends were and I just felt safe and secure around him. They are kind of a forbidden fruit that you have to have. He was such a douche and I never really got it got what I wanted, but I kept going after it anyway. He was a nice guy but his lifestyle made him bad." I LOVED how genuine these responses were from the dozens of girls I polled. Some of their perspectives really hit me in the gut. It made me realize... there's another vantage point completely neglected....It's a man's world (still...don't get me started. I'll sit down...for now), so let's get a man's perspective on why the grandest of girls go for the baddest of boys."Honestly I think because they don’t know what it’s like to be treated by a guy that has good intentions." "Either she really really cares and loves him no matter or doesn't believe anyone that he is a bad guy at all.... and I couldn't tell you why girls like that stuff. " "Bc good guys are boring and having something to fix is easy to confuse with someone to build." "Girls like danger. A guy with an edge to him will always get the girl over a guy who is perceived to be boring." "I would say it stems from insecurities." "It’s an ego thing, people want what they can’t have. They try and Change people. I feel like a lot has to deal with perception and how we were raised.Love languages are important and I feel like personality traits play a part also." "Usually it's because at first they make them feel secure and loved and over time the guy tends to forget that he still needs to show love and stops and sees the girl is still with him even though he's a dick . He gets a taste of that and has no reason to change . The girl stays with him because she thinks deep down inside he will change." "Good guys are boring." "Eventually yes, they go for the “bad” guy. Whether that means he’s a jerk or just a style or how he treats her or just not Mr. RightIn my personal experiences no one is ever really ready to find what they are actually looking forSo when they do they sabotage it and more often then not rebound or run back to what’s comfortable or safe, and even though on paper the nice guy seems like the safe choice relative to the bad boy, the nice guy is actually far more scary because he’s something to lose, he can hurt the girl worse than any bad boy ever couldI spent the last 2 years in an on and off relationship with my absolute soul mate. Over the course of the 2 years she ran 3 times. The first time she told me she loved me. When we started living together. And after she asked me to go ring shopping and we picked out a ring and put money down on it.Each time lead to a panic attack, freak out, anxiety whateverShe’ll always come back to me cuz she knows I’m the guy for her, but when she gets everything she’s ever wanted she loses control, has something to lose, is vulnerableSo more often then not in our swipe first, fuck second, feelings later society when people find the right one (guys or girls) they find a way to sabotage itAnd then it compounds because everyone gets sick of being the one getting hurt. I went and did the rebound thing after the last time we split up and I’m sure I hurt some feelings in the process (even though I was 100% transparent).A nice guy isn’t gonna give you a reason to leave, he’s gonna treat you right and what if you get scared? What if you’re not ready for forever? Then what?" "In my opinion I’d have to say it’s some sort of thrill. Possibly connected to some sort of childhood trauma if you will. But if someone believes that all of their partners are bad then they will constantly seek out bad partners to justify their thinking." "Well first off im 1 of the good ones 😂 but always wondered the same thing and why its always the really really good looking girls that seem to have it all that go for that type of guy. The girl i am currently seeing almost 2 months now yaaay go me 😂 u do chat about past relationships and things and she had been with ex's in the past shall we say none of them good... and she knew that going into those relationships and i asked why would any girl do that to herself if she knows the guy is no good will cheat, use, or abuse or whatever... she said she thinks girls like that that go for guys like that want that kind of a 'project' challenge whatever u wanna call it and be the girl to make that guy change for her... make of that what u may 🤔🤔🤔🙄🙄🙄 its a mystery that may never be solved... bad boys will always be popular and not going out of fashion anytime soon 😂" "I believe girls tend to fall for bad guys because they might feel like they have an exclusive ticket to being a part of the “bad guy’s” emotional and loving side. Everyone loves having access to something that is rare and I feel like it’s the same deal with girls and “bad guys”, they get to see their emotional side." "It goes back to prehistoric times then women choose on how big and strong as well as how many wives and children he has as the bigger the family the better the chance ofsuccess when hunting for food this attraction is still in women's DNA." " I guess it’s exciting maybe?" "Personally I think woman get bored; they want excitement. They always think of what could be more and never wanna settle for good. Good isn’t good enough they need change something different something dangerous something to excite them." "It's actually kind of simple; they think the good guys are boring. I mean if a good guy gets up goes to work at a good job where he can sustain a future he doesnt have time to devote every waking moment to someone and bad guys have made women so insecure and other women and their hoeish tendencies help create more insecurities that if he is 10 mins later than normal coming in from work because he stayed later she is going to wonder what he is doing or who he is with. Plus a bad guys will give a false sense of security every woman wants to feel safe and a good guy doesn't give them that because it goes back to they feel they are boring because they don't push the envelope or have friends they shouldn't hangout with because they know they can get in trouble and potentially mess up their career and goals. Good guys do end up getting a good girl in the end because a real woman falls for a good man while girls fall for the bad boy." There's a handful of lovely quotes still to be shared... catch ya on the flip side #sunnyside^So, I've reached the point in my dating where I've said goodbye to WAY TOO MANY good guys. Guys most girls would kill for! Guys practically made for Disney princesses.... but.... I find excuses and exit clauses and I break it off, much faster than a kitkat (no, I didn't give them a break). Sure, I've got my sights on things much more significant for my future than a guy right now, sure I've said I haven't wanted to be tied down to anyone right now, but then BAM! I find myself chasing after guys with caution tape ALL over them:
Why great, established women indulge in relations with bad boysNice guys really finish last and I have proof. I polled 25 successful, beautiful, and charming women that, in my opinion HAVE IT ALL. The question: "Why did you give a bad guy the time of day when you know DAMN-WELL he's no good for you?""You want what you can't have. You know it's never gonna happen and it's satisfying." "Good at sex 10000% main reason" "I don't think I've dated bad guys. All the guys I can think of were pretty nice and good and I’m on good terms with a good chunk of them" "So the first time we ever hung out we drank a whole water bottle of tequila that he stole from his parents, all while we were driving around in a golf cart. We actually ended up dating for two-and-a-half years. He was hott, he was a grade above me, but there were so many red flags! At the time, I just thought it was a great freaking idea." "I was fresh out of a breakup and I met this guy at the State Fair. After clicking, he revealed that he had just been arrested and was on probation. I still pursued dating him. He had a nice car (even though he had no license), he was older, from out of town, and my favorite, was he was unlike anyone I've ever been attracted to. Then, after we broke up, I dated his friend. He was even older. Super cute, a firefighter in training, and was very hard to get. That was intriguing. I almost became obsessed with him even though I knew he would never be in a relationship with me." "This guy had his own apartment downtown and we only dated three weeks.... But three weeks was something. He took me to a movie that was about how to make a porno. It was really weird that he would do that with me being 16! I knew he was all wrong but, he was mysterious. He was outside of my school, so no one knew him. Part of me wanted to go through a bad phase. I liked him because he was different. Any bad boy I have encountered was because he was different." "Several bad boys! They weren't good people and didn't treat me well. Then again, they're not like me. You want them to be different and I was looking for different in the wrong places." "Well thats a loaded question. I think many girls want to push boundaries and get the rush that 'bad boys' give you. Those type of boys make you feel alive and you can be someone your not in all other aspects of your life. If all of your life has been safe it's fun to be with someone that's not 'safe.' It's kind of like knowing storms are dangerous, but you still like storms and even want to go out and play." "Wilson in high school was my irresistible bad boy, because he was so edgy and different and I wanted to shock my friends with an older man who went awol from the marines." "I think I always thought he would get better, like he would say sweet things and that meant he was capable of doing sweet things deep down. BOY WAS I WRONG." "I was into a guy that was arrested for drunk driving a car that didn't necessarily belong to him. But, I'd been single a long time and well... Needed to get laid. I feel like that's what bad boys come down to sometimes." "Bad guys play games. Like you really have to chase them. It's kind of like a competition with yourself if you can get him." "Hahha probably not a bad boy cause that's not my type but defffff someone who wasn't good for me. Ugh wanted it to work so bad even though I knew it was a bad idea" "I don't know how to answer. It just is an attraction..." "Bad boys were always interesting to girls who grew up with restricted households. We want that thrill and feel of "danger". But in the end, the quintessential "bad boy" was unreliable, most likey unemployed or constantly in between jobs, or had a disgusting living situation. After a while, they lose their wow factor and we move on. Or some of us don't because we think we can change them for the better." "This guy was homeless, lots of baggage, and had NO interest in any kind of a relationship. He stood me up at least once, yet was the best sex I've ever had and was soooo hott. I'm sure he still is hott..." "It just.... kinda happens." "Because you know it won’t last long term....So you let yourself indulge and get to experience it while you can. No one actually wants to settle down with the bad guy. They know he won’t last." "Ahh, that bad boy! They're aloof; they don't care about anything. His mom was having a party and said he guessed he could take me there at the spur of the moment. When they see you, they want you right there. No date, just instant." 4 more said they don't go for bad guys.... mhmm ;)) lol jk I've accounted for their absence of bad boys. So, I'd like to say that girls are completely innocent in bad boy rendezvous... but, we knew what we were getting into.Tip to 5***** Guys: |
AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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