there really is NO exit!

a trip to the suburbs to play scrabble leads invariably to the following...
1) i am called a whore.
2) i am made to feel like a freak.

let me explain:
1) i am NOT a whore. i haven't been with a lot of people. but the fact that there are a couple people i'd love to sleep with but have little desire to date makes me a whore. apparently anyone who is older than 22 who has little desire to be in a RELATIONSHIP but still would like sex is a whore. if to these girls relationships are defined as potential husbands then...FUCK THAT! seriously... the thing is is that i don't feel the 'fuck, i'm almost 25 and should be on my way to having a complete life'...if a complete life is living in a crescent in the suburbs, needing a babysitter for my dog, never going out, worrying about my car payments and making sure i have money in my rrsps then fuck complete living...i'll stick with being a whore! i like my life. i like my friends, i like what i do, i like going out and i like having sex with people for no other reason than the fact that i am attracted to them.

and in the end if there were actually people who wanted to have sex with me they might have a case for me being a whore but no one wants to fuck me anyways...

2) yes, i have tattoos. yes, i am getting a sleeve. yes, i am serious. no, i'm not going to change my mind. yes, it's expensive...but cheaper than a car. i want to get up on a table and shout:

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU BITCHES THINK YOU ARE?! IF I WANT TO BE A FREAK I'LL BE A FUCKING FREAK! WE'VE BEEN FRIENDS FOR YEARS. CAN'T YOU JUST ACCEPT ME ALREADY!?"

whatever...history keeps us together and at least i can wipe the floor with their settled-in-seemingly-adult-relationship' asses at scrabble!