Have you ever had one of those days when nothing really seems to go as it should, when everyone and everything is getting on your nerves and, no matter what you do, the smallest problem can suddenly rear up and become a monster? Perhaps I’m lucky in that I haven’t had too many but, glancing through the mails and messages I get now and then, especially those on Facebook, I can imagine myself in a completely different role at times.
It seems that no matter what you do, there is always someone out there who just isn’t in the picture. Perhaps they can’t read, or perhaps they’re simply not capable of getting the smallest thought through their head or, and I suspect this is more likely, they honestly believe that calling someone Babe or similar is going to make women go weak at the knees and fall at their feet begging for their undivided attentions.
It certainly doesn’t work for me, whether it is a man or a woman, and no matter how good they may look in a profile picture, I’m not any one’s Babe nor am I a Baby in any way, shape or form.
Once again I am being asked whether I am interested in giving up my Lesbianism for just a few minutes of pleasure with one or another man who, as far as I can see, has been unable to score with anything in real life. Is there really a point to someone in Indonesia, India or even Pakistan telling me that they really want to get to know me, really want to show me a good time – whatever that may be? How do they plan on doing it? Telepathy? Or perhaps they honestly believe that their mail will convince me:
hey gir how r u anw i need 2 get 2 know better and i like ur pic u r so cute and lovely and sexyu girl and i would like 2 see u honey reply tc mwhhh
especially when it is so full of abbreviations that, firstly, I can hardly make sense of it and, secondly, it gives me the feeling that they don’t have enough time to write properly. If they haven’t got time to write, how are they going to make enough time to either get to know me or to do more than just that?
This applies to both men and women, there is sometimes little difference between the two. Sometimes I have to try and figure out which gender they are too, and that makes the whole even more of a time-wasting activity.
Fortunately, no matter how many times I just feel like drawing back and slamming right into their self-satisfied grin, the delete button is right at my fingertips and, sadly, it gets used more often than I would have wished.
Love & Kisses, Viki.