Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Anytime

I am friends with all of my ex-girlfriends except for two.

There's Tiffany, who cheated on me in college with a guy in my House, got pregnant as a result, and came over one night a few years later to go down on me. I called her a Cum Dumpster during climax. She ran out crying and slept on the golf course.

And then there's Sunny. She's Thai. She's ridiculously attractive. And she's a waitress. None of these things have changed since she fucked the Receivers Coach of my high school football team while we were dating in college. She met him at a fundraiser my high school threw for the athletic program. Apparently they hit it off. Whore.

Our relationship was, by all accounts, a tumultuous one. It ran hot and cold like a Motel 6 shower. One week things could never be better. The next one of us would want to shove the other down an elevator shaft. The breaking point came--naturally for us--over something completely ridiculous.

One evening I decided to go to an A's game with my friend Will. As she recounted angrily in a voicemail message I would receive later that evening, I neither informed her of my decision nor--and this is a quote--"asked her permission." I really didn't think much of the decision to go because we didn't have any plans for that evening. Of course in her head Sunny had already planned a quiet romantic evening at her place. Operative words being: "IN HER FUCKING HEAD!"

The game was unspectacular as I remember except for the surprising and pleasant lack of cell phone calls. Not a single one. Very unlike Sunny. As it turns out, MCI Worldcom was having some service problems. This meant that calls weren't finding their destination and were being routed to voicemail. When service got restored later that evening (on BART somewhere between MacArthur and Ashby stations) any dropped calls that were routed to voicemail started to queue up in my phone. Grand total? 6. All from Sunny. SIX! I showed Will. He laughed right in my face. Dick.

Like any string of voicemail messages born out of the paranoid fantasy that you are being ignored and/or cheated on by your boyfriend, Sunny's messages got increasingly...well...violent. I was pretty toasted at this point in the evening so I found most of them hilarious. I would even re-cue them and let Will listen. Then I listened to Number 6. The MOAB.

S: Nils, I am through with you. I'm tired of you ignoring me all the time and spending time with your friends. When I hear you are out with Will or Don or Draper it makes me want to scratch your eyes out with my bare hands. Fuck you. I'm fucking Freddy B too. You know the coach guy you introduced me to at that stupid high school fundraiser you dragged me to. I fucked him at the party and I've been fucking him ever since. We're in love too so fuck you.

Ouch. I would have been really hurt by her little diatribe if I wasn't swimming in unrelenting anger instead. I let Will listen to the voicemail. He stopped laughing. When I saw Will earlier this summer in Portugal, this little incident came up and he told me what was going through his head at the time:

W: See Nils get yelled at. Laugh at Nils. See Nils get cheated on and dumped. See Nils boil with white hot rage. Stop laughing at Nils. Stop making any sudden movements. Get off train.

When I got back to Berkeley I made a beeline to Sunny's apartment. She was waiting. Eagerly. We went at it for what felt like hours but what turned out to be only 30 or 40 minutes. Of course it didn't serve any greater good or purpose to yell and scream at each other like a Sicilian family reunion. I mean, maybe it was therapeutic but I would be lying if I said I didn't want to hurt her the way she hurt me. Unfortunately, I am not a soulless cock-swallowing Southeast Asian hooker...so my words would have to do. They would have to do, that is, until my eyes fell upon something I gave her for her birthday during the honeymoon phase of our relationship.

Sunny LOVES Brian McKnight. Any and all things Brian McKnight are usually good enough to salve wounds, stem the flow of tears, and calm the screaming she-beast. Her favorite Brian McKnight song is "Anytime" so for her birthday I had a caligrapher in Chinatown paint the lyrics on a piece of really cool parchment paper. Then I had a friend of mine who worked the doors at the Paramount Theatre (where McKnight was going to play a couple weeks later) get it signed. I framed it in bamboo and no-glare glass.

Beside being a cool gift, the whole thing was actually quite beautiful...at least until the little Thai hooker cheated on me. In the middle of yelling at her for being a lecherous, disease-communicating, curry-eating cunt (Note to female readers: if you don't like the C-word I have a piece of advice for you--DONT FUCKING CHEAT!), I spotted the framed piece on the wall above her bed. I charged past her, leapt onto the bed, grabbed it off the wall and threw it against the hardwood floor.

It shattered like the hopes and dreams of an ugly girl with ovarian cancer. Cheap fucking Chinatown framejob. When she realized what I did I thought she would descend into an even deeper darker realm of insanity and attack me like a fucking puma. Instead, she crumpled onto her bed and started sobbing uncontrollably. Yeah, that's right bitch. Fuck you. I grabbed the paper off the floor and walked out.

...

Anyway, I was cleaning my room Monday night and I came across the tattered parchment in the back of one of my nightstand drawers. I had completely forgotten about the parchment and what I did to it when I got home that night. Below is a transcription of the lyrics on the parchment paper. What I did to it that night is in bold italics.

Anytime
I can't remember why we fell apart
oh wait, yes I can, you cheating slut
From something that was so meant to be
meant to be a huge pain in my fucking ass
Forever was the promise in our hearts
If by forever, you mean up until you cheat on me you prostitute
Now more and more I wonder where you are
Hopefully it's floating face down in the Sacramento Delta.
Do I ever cross your mind - anytime?
Yes you cross my mind. Now cross into oncoming traffic CUNT!
Do you ever wake up reaching out for me?
Yep, with my hands in the universal "choke the stupid bitch" position
Do I ever cross your mind - anytime?
Only when I am swept up in a wave of homicidal fantasy
I miss you
Go fuck yourself

Still have your picture in the frame
It's easier to hang on the dartboard that way
Hear your footsteps down the hall
I hope you get mugged
I swear I hear your voice driving me insane
that little nasally, whiny bitch voice would make Harvey Firestein wince
How I wish that you would call to say
you have cancer

Do I ever cross your mind - anytime?
only when I watch rape porn and snuff films
Do you ever wake up reaching out for me?
No! you manipulative conniving trollop.
Do I ever cross your mind - anytime?
I'd pick up roadkill off the highway before I helped you with anything
I miss you, I miss you
Kill yourself whore

No more loneliness and heartache
I'm going to fuck your sister
No more crying myself to sleep
fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou
No more wondering about tomorrow
nope, because I'm going to kill you in your sleep tonight slut
Won't you come back to me?
so I can fuck you in the ass and then kick you the fuck out of my house
Come back to me Oh, ho, oh
come back to me and I'll tie you up in my basement and throw dog shit at you

Do I ever cross your mind - anytime?
Anytime I need to visualize killing someone, yeah.
Do you ever wake up reaching out for me?
Reaching out to rip your heart out of your chest you soul-crushing tramp
Do I ever cross your mind - anytime?
I hope you cross in front of a moving BART train
I miss you
Die bitch
...not one of my finer moments, I'll admit. Whatever. I'm not the philandering prostitute. Yeah, so we don't get along.

27 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

awe. some.

-scientist

August 11, 2004 at 2:36 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Why did I picture the "summer love" duet scene from Grease when I read that little ditty?

August 11, 2004 at 2:47 PM  
Blogger NP said...

because I wanted to throw her off a grandstand and ditch her body in the Pacific Ocean?

August 11, 2004 at 2:49 PM  
Blogger S.L. Dixon said...

"It shattered like the hopes and dreams of an ugly girl with ovarian cancer."

The blog has been bookmarked. Cheers.

August 11, 2004 at 3:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

...throw her off a grandstand and ditch her body in the Pacific Ocean?

Haven't met your ex, and while she may be well deserving of that demise, the above is what I've always dreamed of doing to Brian McNight...

Your stories are starting to make me think that most women in the world have been smacked upside the head hard by the crazy stick...

--Nurgirl

August 11, 2004 at 3:12 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Is this all coming out of your ass as the days go by or did you have some of these written before you posted them? If the former, you are kicking ass at an unprecedented rate. No filler. Keep it up.

August 11, 2004 at 3:17 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That used to be one of my favorite songs also, until a lying, heartless, slam hound of an ex ruined it fot me as well. Thanks for bringing up the past, and making me realize again, I'm better of.

TRIXX

August 11, 2004 at 3:20 PM  
Blogger NP said...

at this point, the only thing I've posted that was already written was Las Vegas Lessons

August 11, 2004 at 3:20 PM  
Blogger dusty said...

Nils, this stuff is hilarious. I'd also totally forgotten about the Tiffany/cum dumpster story. Would you mind telling that one again? It's great.

August 11, 2004 at 3:33 PM  
Blogger SkiGuy said...

The Tiffany story, for those who liked this one and never got a chance to read it on the TMMB, was possibly one of the funniest pieces I have ever read.

Nils,
Any way we can get you to post that one?

August 11, 2004 at 3:34 PM  
Blogger NP said...

I wrote it up on the board. It's in the servers that host the site I guess because I don't have a copy of it. I didn't write it in Word. I wrote it straight into a post

August 11, 2004 at 3:36 PM  
Blogger dusty said...

Shit.

August 11, 2004 at 3:47 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Bitter much?

I don't know why but the word puma made me wet myself.

JTF

August 11, 2004 at 3:49 PM  
Blogger NP said...

I WAS bitter...back in '99 when it happenend and I wrote that on the lyrics.

And I agree whole-heartedly about puma. Puma and Beaver. I have yet to hear a joke or a line of dialogue that uses one of those words and isn't funny.

August 11, 2004 at 4:04 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you for your stories. They flow well, and the content is constantly entertaining.

Just out of curiosity, you mentioned you work on your writing a lot. Are these the types of stories you're working on? Or are you working on some larger project, such as a book, or anything else?

Also, were you the author on the old TM message boards of a story about an evening spent in a VIP room of a strip club running up the bill, and then managing to walk out on it? Sorry for the lack of detail, but that's all I can recall other than it being entertaining.

Keep up the writing.

Cheers

mrluisp

August 11, 2004 at 5:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Speaking of ex-girlfriends, I thought you were going to post this:



Humiliating
Last night Tucker blew me off. Again.

I went insane. I cut off all my hair with kitchen scissors like Frida Khalo.
Today I examined the fallout (actually quite cute and flippy. I am good at
everything). I also thought, "Bunny... there is something terribly awry. Why
are you so angry? Why have you become a bitter and horrible person since you
met Tucker?"

Today, while I'm working, Tucker is hovering over me asking me the same
question.

I have decided to make an itemized list of reasons why I might want to cut
off all my hair like a rape victim.

[Note: This is truly humiliating. If anyone were to make a medicine to cure
low self-esteem, I'd take it in spades; I'd do the 10k walk for closet
self-loathers, and wear the empty wine bottle lapel pin. I wish to God these
FACTS were fabricated or embellished, but the awful truth is that they are
not. I only hope this helps the other girls who don't like themselves].

What it is like to date Tucker Max.

-You will get fried chicken for your birthday. Later that night when you
both go to a bar, you will want a diet coke, but won't get one because that
is one less beer that he can drink.

-He will hang up on your favorite aunt, and be stunned when you get upset
that he referred to your mother as "that fucking bitch" because she called
you at a late hour.

-He will scream at you because you don't like the instant coffee he bought
you.

-He will never kiss you, and barely fuck you, even if you beg him to for
months. You are now the Virgin Mary. He will still try to coerce crazy
whores into coming to Chicago to fuck him. He will kiss them because they
are whores, and don't you know that you're only supposed to give good
passionate sex to women that you don't know or give a shit about? I didn't
know that either.

-You will beg him to take a shower, which he will not do. But he will shave
his face to have long make-out sessions with any random girl.

-You will read every piece of writing he has ever done and be supportive of
all his creative outlets. When you then ask him to read your own novel he
will drop it after chapter one because it's a waste of his time. He's not
good at editing.

-You will give him the greatest head of his life on a regular basis. He will
still suck in bed.

-He will make sure you know that you aren't very hot, only sort of cute, and
that your head is too big for the rest of your body. You also have
unattractive dark circles under your eyes and your tits are too small. He
will never compliment you.

-You will be bi-sexual and okay with him sleeping with other women, but this
will not be enough. He needs freedom.

-If he is an insensitive asshole to you, it is only because you are selfish.
You should understand that his parents sucked and now you have to pay for
this. How this is logical, I'm not really sure.

-When he has major surgery you will not leave his side. You will spend day
night waiting on him hand and foot, making sure he is comfortable and well
cared for. You will even wipe his ass when he takes a shit. Later he will
tell you that it was all unnecessary. He didn't need or want you to be
there.

-When he is supposed to pick you up and take you to a party, he will get
black-out drunk and fuck some girl instead of showing up.

-He will tell you he loves you and wants to have children with you. When you
then get pregnant, he will say that he has about two to four more years of
drinking and whoring left to do, so a baby isn't in the cards. He will
coerce you into an abortion by threatening to give away your dog if you try
to have the child. Then he will be evasive so that you will be forced to
dump him and he can get off scot-free.

-When you get upset about this, he will tell you that you are
over-emotional. When you try to explain how this hurts, he will ignore you
till you find yourself screaming and breaking things. He will explain these
outbursts to his drinking buddies as so: "Yeah she's fucking crazy. She
flips out on me like every third day."

-When you go to stay with your parents (read: bawl day and night) for two
weeks, he will fuck other women in your bed. The night you return he will
try to go out with a whore he's just met and wonder why you're upset about
that. He needs his freedom.

-When you are at your parents, he won't take your calls. Instead he will
spend his time e-mailing some whore. Later, he will not stop e-mailing this
same whore, because all whores come before your feelings even if the whores
are half as attractive and barely capable of forming cogent sentences.

-When his ex-girlfriend dies and then comes back to life, you will nurse him
through the depression. You will even be fine with her coming to stay at
your own fucking apartment so that he can decide which of you he wants. This
is so that you can be fair to both of them because you are a good person.
unlike them.

-Later on you will catch him telling this covert bitch who pretended to be
nice to you that he is only keeping you around because you are willing to
support him financially. They will laugh at you behind your back for being
"over-emotional." Oh how silly you are!

-When Tucker bounces back from his depression you will not be needed
anymore. You will just hand over the keys to his car and not say a word when
he drives it all over Chicagoland while black-out drunk.

-When girls come to the apartment, he will become "Cooooool Tucker Max." He
will dress and act differently. He will be an asshole to you. Why are you
upset? Don't you know "this is the Tucker Max show?" This pathetic statement
is his actual quote.

-And finally (though I could write pages and pages of this horrible shit):
When you've been stood up by the very first date you've planned in a year,
you will call Tucker and ask to hang out with him. He will not come pick you
up in YOUR OWN FUCKING CAR, because HE lost your license the night before
and you won't be able to get into the club he's going to. When you ask if it
's possible to go anywhere else he will refuse because there are free drinks
and whores in said club. Whores are very special. Much more special than the
woman that did all the above things out of unconditional love FOR A FUCKING
YEAR!

posted by The Bunny at 4:22 PM

August 11, 2004 at 6:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Humiliating
Last night Tucker blew me off. Again.

I went insane. I cut off all my hair with kitchen scissors like Frida Khalo. Today I examined the fallout (actually quite cute and flippy. I am good at everything). I also thought, "Bunny... there is something terribly awry. Why are you so angry? Why have you become a bitter and horrible person since you met Tucker?"

Today, while I'm working, Tucker is hovering over me asking me the same question.

I have decided to make an itemized list of reasons why I might want to cut off all my hair like a rape victim.

[Note: This is truly humiliating. If anyone were to make a medicine to cure low self-esteem, I'd take it in spades; I'd do the 10k walk for closet self-loathers, and wear the empty wine bottle lapel pin. I wish to God these FACTS were fabricated or embellished, but the awful truth is that they are not. I only hope this helps the other girls who don't like themselves].

What it is like to date Tucker Max…

-You will get fried chicken for your birthday. Later that night when you both go to a bar, you will want a diet coke, but won’t get one because that is one less beer that he can drink.

-He will hang up on your favorite aunt, and be stunned when you get upset that he referred to your mother as “that fucking bitch” because she called you at a late hour.

-He will scream at you because you don’t like the instant coffee he bought you.

-He will never kiss you, and barely fuck you, even if you beg him to for months. You are now the Virgin Mary. He will still try to coerce crazy whores into coming to Chicago to fuck him. He will kiss them because they are whores, and don’t you know that you’re only supposed to give good passionate sex to women that you don’t know or give a shit about? I didn’t know that either.

-You will beg him to take a shower, which he will not do. But he will shave his face to have long make-out sessions with any random girl.

-You will read every piece of writing he has ever done and be supportive of all his creative outlets. When you then ask him to read your own novel he will drop it after chapter one because it’s a waste of his time. He’s not good at editing.

-You will give him the greatest head of his life on a regular basis. He will still suck in bed.

-He will make sure you know that you aren’t very hot, only sort of cute, and that your head is too big for the rest of your body. You also have unattractive dark circles under your eyes and your tits are too small. He will never compliment you.

-You will be bi-sexual and okay with him sleeping with other women, but this will not be enough. He needs freedom.

-If he is an insensitive asshole to you, it is only because you are selfish. You should understand that his parents sucked and now you have to pay for this. How this is logical, I’m not really sure.

-When he has major surgery you will not leave his side. You will spend day night waiting on him hand and foot, making sure he is comfortable and well cared for. You will even wipe his ass when he takes a shit. Later he will tell you that it was all unnecessary. He didn’t need or want you to be there.

-When he is supposed to pick you up and take you to a party, he will get black-out drunk and fuck some girl instead of showing up.

-He will tell you he loves you and wants to have children with you. When you then get pregnant, he will say that he has about two to four more years of drinking and whoring left to do, so a baby isn’t in the cards. He will coerce you into an abortion by threatening to give away your dog if you try to have the child. Then he will be evasive so that you will be forced to dump him and he can get off scot-free.

-When you get upset about this, he will tell you that you are over-emotional. When you try to explain how this hurts, he will ignore you till you find yourself screaming and breaking things. He will explain these outbursts to his drinking buddies as so: “Yeah she’s fucking crazy. She flips out on me like every third day.”

-When you go to stay with your parents (read: bawl day and night) for two weeks, he will fuck other women in your bed. The night you return he will try to go out with a whore he’s just met and wonder why you’re upset about that. He needs his freedom.

-When you are at your parents, he won’t take your calls. Instead he will spend his time e-mailing some whore. Later, he will not stop e-mailing this same whore, because all whores come before your feelings even if the whores are half as attractive and barely capable of forming cogent sentences.

-When his ex-girlfriend dies and then comes back to life, you will nurse him through the depression. You will even be fine with her coming to stay at your own fucking apartment so that he can decide which of you he wants. This is so that you can be fair to both of them because you are a good person… unlike them.

-Later on you will catch him telling this covert bitch who pretended to be nice to you that he is only keeping you around because you are willing to support him financially. They will laugh at you behind your back for being “over-emotional.” Oh how silly you are!

-When Tucker bounces back from his depression you will not be needed anymore. You will just hand over the keys to his car and not say a word when he drives it all over Chicagoland while black-out drunk.

-When girls come to the apartment, he will become “Cooooool Tucker Max.” He will dress and act differently. He will be an asshole to you. Why are you upset? Don’t you know “this is the Tucker Max show?” This pathetic statement is his actual quote.

-And finally (though I could write pages and pages of this horrible shit): When you’ve been stood up by the very first date you’ve planned in a year, you will call Tucker and ask to hang out with him. He will not come pick you up in YOUR OWN FUCKING CAR, because HE lost your license the night before and you won’t be able to get into the club he's going to. When you ask if it’s possible to go anywhere else he will refuse because there are free drinks and whores in said club. Whores are very special. Much more special than the woman that did all the above things out of unconditional love FOR A FUCKING YEAR!



posted by The Bunny at 4:22 PM
3 Comments:
HeadDr said...

This post has been removed by the author.
5:12 PM
HeadDr said...

PS Bunny, tell me, if any, of the following sounds familiar:
Tucker is intriguing because he is an asshole, because he is smart, because he represents a challenge, because he represents something sexually exciting, a fantasy fulfillment where anyting goes, because he is a risk & an experience to be conquered?
Do you feel (or has he conveyed) that you are the only one that can truly reach him to understand and quell his boyish insecurities.

Is he self-motivated career wise? Does his careers success necessitate a social charisma?

Are you nurturing with him? Are you classified as cute because, in essence he could never consider his mother anything more, meaning not seductive or hot (that would fuel Freud (if you buy into that shit) more than his cocaine habit).

And quintessentially, does he exhibit a boyish intimate approach to you (again read: mommy issues). Does he exploit women that show weakness? (refer to above aside).

Kisses.
6:19 PM
boobilicious said...

Wow.

I want to hug The Bunny.

August 11, 2004 at 6:32 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

So, the one piece of vital information that you left out is what you did with the parchment? Burn it, use it as a wrapper for eggrolls, use it as TP, what?

/The Swede

August 11, 2004 at 6:35 PM  
Blogger Hoochie said...

"Your stories are starting to make me think that most women in the world have been smacked upside the head hard by the crazy stick..."

Nurgirl, I agree. My boyfriend is a saint for putting up with me.


To the fucktard who keeps posting The Bunny's list, it's already old. Get that last pre-pubescent giggles out and move on.


Drex, your journal is highly entertaining, as is the comments section.

August 11, 2004 at 7:10 PM  
Blogger The Lovely S said...

"No more loneliness and heartache
I'm going to fuck your sister
No more crying myself to sleep fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou
No more wondering about tomorrow nope,
because I'm going to kill you in your sleep tonight slut"

Eminem would be proud.

August 11, 2004 at 7:31 PM  
Blogger dusty said...

Wow.. I thought that list was gone forever.

August 11, 2004 at 8:53 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I thought Bunny specifically said she didn't want that list posted. It would be nice to respect her wishes on this.--ultrabrite99

August 12, 2004 at 6:27 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You seemed cool until I found out you had FUCKING BRIAN MCKNIGHT LYRICS FRAMED.

August 12, 2004 at 7:57 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

attention homeboys: SIX phones calls is not a lot. It's an average hour in the life my boyfriend. It is not one-side. He has called me 22 times in 30 minutes. This does not mean we are crazy or codependant...we just, um, love each other.

August 12, 2004 at 2:49 PM  
Blogger BrianH said...

"attention homeboys: SIX phones calls is not a lot. It's an average hour in the life my boyfriend. It is not one-side. He has called me 22 times in 30 minutes. This does not mean we are crazy or codependant...we just, um, love each other."

Wow, sounds like someone is trying to rationalize her wholly IRRational relationship behavior.

If that isn't codependent, what is?

August 13, 2004 at 2:07 PM  
Blogger yum cake said...

"If that isn't codependent, what is?"

It's sarcasm.

August 14, 2004 at 10:18 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

All women are crazy. The sane ones are those of us who take our meds everyday.

August 16, 2004 at 12:50 PM  

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