It's Not YOU, It's ME...

Mr. Hobbyist:

I like you. I really do. Which is why it pains me to see the look of disappointment on your face after I decline a non-bcd meeting. I hope that it's some consolation when I tell you that it's not you; It's me.

I do not ever, allow me to reiterate, EVER, want to be with you without compensation. Not because you're difficult to be around, but because it's hard for me to keep up the act without getting paid for my efforts. "Why?" you ask? Because I'm a typical American early 20's girl...except I constantly have a wad of cash in my Chanel purse and hell of a lot of free time on my IWC.

I love what I do, but once I am done, I want you gone. Why? So I can:

1) let loose the fart I've been holding between my buttcheeks for the past ninety minutes
2) crank up my stereo with Britney Spears or Rihanna. Are you shocked? You probably are. I pretend to like the bland, boring adult contemporary hits you do and I have a playlist specifically for you. You, the John Denver, Stevie Nicks guy, or YOU: the Waylon Tisdale/Norman Brown guy, etc. I pretend to disdain pop and rap music, but honey, that's a damn lie. The lil raisin-looking dude who's got tattoes all over his face and body...his name is Lil Wayne and I LOVE his music. I act like I don't know who or what is popular right now, but I do. I sooo do.
3) Hop on Facebook while simultaneoulsy watching reality TV and talking on the phone to my best friend about where we're going clubbing and what we plan on wearing that night.

The point of this is not to admonish you, Mr. Hobbyist, or highlight the differences between us. I just want to gently, with a dash of hilarity, remind you that you are not paying me to like you...you're paying me to pretend to be someone you would like. The reason you so desperately want to hang out with me is because I am not being the real me. The real me is a gassy, obnoxious, alcoholic, shallow, and self-absorbed little cunt. You know, the average 22 yr old American woman. Please, allow me to be that way and refrain from asking for my time without paying for it.

Being with you is not a chore, but being the girl you think I am is. Please don't ask for time off the clock.

Ms Provider,

I fully understand! I've always known it wasn't me, and that it was you! In your early 20's you might think your quit the actress but Meryl Streep your not! Your about as transparent as those jello shots your gulping down with your fellow tattooed, knock off purse toting friends. I've always known you love rap and Britney. Truth is I don't care. The main thing is I not subjected to your crazy taste in music! I don't fault you for the farting. Us hobbyist do the same thing while were sitting around talking about what dip shits you and your friends really are while were having a beer! And your certainly right about John Denver and Stevie Nicks, but don't forget Niel Diamond, The Eagles and many more true artists that we listening to even before your mom got knocked up while having an affair with the plumber. We will always let you be you. So long as we 40-70 year old grand fathers can pound the shit out of you for a few bucks, we would like things to stay just the way they are. I'll let you in on a little secret... we really don't pay to be with you we pay to have you LEAVE! And down the road when gravity takes it toll, you'll still just be another little whore were no longer interested in! Best of luck with the fellow Lil Wayne male fans, I'm sure they will take good care of you later on in life! If not you can work for minimum wage for one of many businesses our kids inherited while they went to college and learned to treat people with respect. We wouldn't think of spending time with you for free, you might really want to be you! We couldn't stomach that!

Welcome back Isis! --or perhaps her twin sister ...


Get over yourself lol

OMG!

As a man who values the unvarnished truth over a pretty lie any day of the week, I was surprised once by a girl who rebuked me once during one of our intense conversation by saying that there was such a thing as too much truth after something I said to her.

I could not believe that such a thing existed at the time and thought maybe she just had a much lower tolerance for the truth than I did.

However, now after reading the lead post on this thread and the equally harsh response, I do believe that there can indeed be too much truth in a conversation.

A provider wishing that her customer can leave so that she can let loose a fart she is holding back is not really something that we need to hear.

. . . There are some things in life that a wise man does not wish to know or even need to know.

As a man who values the unvarnished truth over a pretty lie any day of the week, I was surprised once by a girl who rebuked me once during one of our intense conversation by saying that there was such a thing as too much truth after something I said to her.

I could not believe that such a thing existed at the time and thought maybe she just had a much lower tolerance for the truth than I did.

However, now after reading the lead post on this thread and the equally harsh response, I do believe that there can indeed be too much truth in a conversation.

A provider wishing that her customer can leave so that she can let loose a fart she is holding back is not really something that we need to hear.

. . . There are some things in life that a wise man does not wish to know or even need to know.

Originally Posted by Fast Gunn

I agree! The Cooking Your Testicles thread you started had me running for the hills! LOL

ChampagneSuperNova,

I do hope you come back here and join the discussion, but SL is completely correct in this case--though I may have found different words to say it. I have met quite a lot of ladies and it is quite easy to tell who is and is not interested in OTC time. I do not imply any lady owes us a single minute of such, and I fully understand a lady may be open to OTC time with one man but not another, it's completely her choice. All I'm saying is very, VERY few ladies are good enough actresses to disguise it either way.

I agree. Were just having fun anyway!

Chica... is this super-thread worthy

Mr. Hobbyist:

I like you. I really do. Which is why it pains me to see the look of disappointment on your face after I decline a non-bcd meeting. I hope that it's some consolation when I tell you that it's not you; It's me.

I do not ever, allow me to reiterate, EVER, want to be with you without compensation. Not because you're difficult to be around, but because it's hard for me to keep up the act without getting paid for my efforts. "Why?" you ask? Because I'm a typical American early 20's girl...except I constantly have a wad of cash in my Chanel purse and hell of a lot of free time on my IWC.

I love what I do, but once I am done, I want you gone. Why? So I can:

1) let loose the fart I've been holding between my buttcheeks for the past ninety minutes
2) crank up my stereo with Britney Spears or Rihanna. Are you shocked? You probably are. I pretend to like the bland, boring adult contemporary hits you do and I have a playlist specifically for you. You, the John Denver, Stevie Nicks guy, or YOU: the Waylon Tisdale/Norman Brown guy, etc. I pretend to disdain pop and rap music, but honey, that's a damn lie. The lil raisin-looking dude who's got tattoes all over his face and body...his name is Lil Wayne and I LOVE his music. I act like I don't know who or what is popular right now, but I do. I sooo do.
3) Hop on Facebook while simultaneoulsy watching reality TV and talking on the phone to my best friend about where we're going clubbing and what we plan on wearing that night.

The point of this is not to admonish you, Mr. Hobbyist, or highlight the differences between us. I just want to gently, with a dash of hilarity, remind you that you are not paying me to like you...you're paying me to pretend to be someone you would like. The reason you so desperately want to hang out with me is because I am not being the real me. The real me is a gassy, obnoxious, alcoholic, shallow, and self-absorbed little cunt. You know, the average 22 yr old American woman. Please, allow me to be that way and refrain from asking for my time without paying for it.

Being with you is not a chore, but being the girl you think I am is. Please don't ask for time off the clock. Originally Posted by ChampagneSuperNova

GREAT post!!!! It does work both ways once we all "know our role" lol!

Chica... is this super-thread worthy Originally Posted by Eccie Addict

Yep, another one of those subjects, although this OP is a particularly good start

1) let loose the fart I've been holding between my buttcheeks for the past ninety minutes Originally Posted by ChampagneSuperNova

Wow, you allow Greek for 90 minutes?

A provider wishing that her customer can leave so that she can let loose a fart she is holding back is not really something that we need to hear.

. . . There are some things in life that a wise man does not wish to know or even need to know.
Originally Posted by Fast Gunn

I don't think my last boyfriend ever once saw/heard me burp, fart, or poop. Those don't happen until after maybe 18 moths of marriage, right? ^_^

lilred....F*ck that!!!!! Let it rip baby!~!!!!!!!!!

The richest fantasies are laced with, or propped up by, some semblances of reality.

The time I spend my companions of choice is made possible by illusion ... the illusion that she wants to be with me as much as she wants those bills on the table .. the illusion that I could truly handle the consequences of my indiscretion ... etc.

I don't expect, need or want us to have the same interests, background or social circle. But a little truth, some trivial truth, for spice, is sexy. Like knowing your real middle name (not your first).

Good chemistry, in this situation, is a product of two people who may have hardly a thing in common but come together, temporarily, with an eagerness to make some chemistry & have a little fun.

Just lie here with me for two minutes after the fireworks. Tell me what song is playing through your head or I'll tell you what's playing in mine, it's OK if the other person has never heard of that pop artist.

Let that fart go. We'll laugh about it, share one more illusionary kiss, then you can see this OLD fart to the door...