[Breeder] A Fuck-You List

[TheBreeder]

To see Breeder's original blog post click here

I’ve been feeling a little scattered this last week and a half. I haven’t been able to concentrate. My libido has been zero. All I’ve really wanted to do was turn on my music and curl up with some of the books I’ve been reading, away from people, isolated. This urge to insulate myself from the world happens late in every March, and I pretend that I don’t understand it.

Then April first rolls around, and I have to confront what’s been getting me down. It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death, you see. It’s been eighteen years—Jesus. But it still creeps up on me. Every year I manage to fool myself into thinking I won’t be affected. Every year I find out that I am just kidding myself.

So if my entries haven’t been particularly sexy this last week, I’m explaining why.

My mother was a woman with a deep and perverse sense of humor, and April Fool’s day was one of her favorite holidays. Every year she used to plan her one good trick, weeks in advance; she’d conspire with me on one really good trick to play on my friends. I’m kind of convinced that during her last long illness, she held off on expiring until April first because in a very, very twisted way, she knew it’d be her last and best joke ever.

One of the things my mother used to do, particularly during my teen years, was to make what she called Fuck-You Lists. Now, I’ve known people, particularly those in recovery programs, to make lists of things for which they’re grateful, at the end of every day. These vaguely inspirational lists are always filled with things like I’m grateful for the touch of warm sunshines on my shoulders this afternoon, telling me that spring is on the way, and I’m so grateful for the love of my husband because he keeps me on my path, and other similar sentimental Hallmark sentiments.

I kid. It’s good to be grateful, and to be aware of what’s good in one’s own life. My mother’s Fuck-You Lists, though, were kind of the opposite of these; if she was having a particularly frustrating day, she’d grab a sheet paper, a pencil from one of her crossword puzzle books, and sit down at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee and a cigarette. She’d scrawl FUCK YOU at the top of the page, and then jot down the four or five frustrations uppermost at her mind. Then she’d tuck the paper in the napkin holder, or behind the telephone, or beneath a paperweight, and go about her business.

I think the reasoning behind the exercise was that her troubles and irritations didn’t seem so ponderous when they’d been reduced to writing on a coffee-stained slip of paper. She could get them out of her system, then leave them behind and head off to work or to one of her hundred political activities. I think it astonished relatives, neighbors, and my friends when they’d come over, wander into the kitchen, and see hundreds of slips of paper in my mom’s exquisite handwriting labeled FUCK YOU! at the top, but hey. It’s what made our home the popular place to be.

All this preamble is simply in order to say that in honor of my mom and her passing, I’ve decided to come up with a Fuck-You List of my own today, so I can get a few things off my chest and hopefully move on to better things in the coming week. So. Without further ado:

1. Dear Manhunt Guy who hit me up last night begging me to drop everything and drive thirty-nine miles to fuck him: I’ve got about ten public photos on Manhunt, all unlocked. Your only visible photo was a shot roughly the size of a postage stamp of your chest, in which you’ve used some kind of graphic program to scribble out your face with black pen. Given that imbalance, it’s perfectly reasonable for me to ask you if I may see your locked photo before I commit to a drive, and frankly, I was pissed off by your response of lol you haven’t earned that honor yet. I don’t have to ‘earn’ anything from you, kiddo, especially when it was you hitting on me. And thus I say, fuck you.

2. Dear BBRT Guy who unlocked his photos for me very late last night, and who then mocked my grammar when I commented on how good his photos were: Dude, really? On a sex site? I wrote in complete sentences. How often are you getting that on BBRT? And you know what? When it’s two-thirty a.m. and I’ve got insomnia, I really don’t care if I’ve used the subjunctive correctly or not. What’re you getting out of coming at me so aggressively, anyway? I think I’m heartily justified at giving you a hearty fuck you.

3. Dear woman who runs a local artist’s league where I was investigating a teaching opportunity: I should’ve known something weird was up when I mentioned my involvement with three of the biggest professional organizations for our particular craft, and you looked at me blankly and made me explain what the acronyms were. I’ve got more teaching experience than anyone else leading workshops in your podunk little guild. I’ve had more national exposure, and have a longer track record than you or your other instructors. Why you’ve ignored my several polite emails and phone calls suggesting you let me take you out to coffee so we can discuss me perhaps teaching a couple of courses for you is beyond me, but I’m not chasing you any longer. Fuck you, babe.

4. Dear reader who collected our handful of times together like some kind of prize he could brandish before his buddies: I was astonished at by how very hard you chased me, and I am astonished at how very hard you dropped me once you had what you wanted. You know, I’m not even angry about that, in particular. I’m upset because you never bothered to read the lovely entry I wrote about you—not because you were apprehensive about what I might’ve said, but because you were ‘too busy.’ I’d tell you fuck you, but I’ve already fucked you. So I’ll just say this, though I know you’re ‘too busy’ to read it: you let me down.

5. Dear other reader who devoured my blog from start to finish and initiated a real-life friendship with me on the basis of how well you thought you knew me, afterward: Your infatuation with my life was fueled mainly by the fact you read so much of my journal so quickly, in such a short period of time. I knew that when you were attempting to convince me that you could be my new best friend. I knew that your fascination would cool a little when you reached the point that you’d have to read my entries one at a time, when I wrote them. What I didn’t expect was that the start of that friendship would freeze altogether, and that you’d simply stop speaking to me altogether when you were forced to slow down to my everyday mundanity. You don’t read me any longer because of it, so you too won’t see this, but I was hurt by the way you broke stuff off by trying to make it seem like I was the one who was after something unreasonable, just because I’d say hello and ask how you were doing. It’s with regret that I never got to fuck you, but hey, that was never on the agenda anyway.

6. Dear everybody local who feels it necessary to comment about my haircut: I'd totally forgotten how much I absolutely dreaded going to school the day after I got a haircut when I was a kid, because everyone comments on it. Everyone. To the handful of people who say something like, Hey, you got your hair cut—I like it!, I am grateful. However, to everyone who phrases their surprise in a form similar to You cut your hair! It looks SO MUCH BETTER!—and that's a lot of people who simply shouldn't be opening their mouths—I offer a hearty fuck you. You don't see me walking up to you and saying "Ohmygod you look SO MUCH BETTER now that you've lost that extra five pounds you put on eating all those Girl Scout Tagalongs a few weeks back from that big lard ass!", do you? No, you don't, because it's fucking rude to tell someone they used to be ugly. Back-handed compliments aren't compliments. Learn it! I liked my hair long. I like my hair short. One way is not better than the other. They're just different. No matter how long my hair is, I still look extra-super-foxy. No matter how long your hair is, you're still an asshole.

Whew! I think that’s all the things that have been bugging me lately. Now they’re off my chest, I hope I can walk away and leave them behind for a little while, to see if it works.

Anyone else have any other Fuck You messages to add to the list? As long as they’re not to me, add ‘em in the comments below, and then we’ll tuck them behind my mom’s avocado-green Princess phone and let someone else stumble on them, down the line.

More...

[cumaddict71]

hahaha, great list!!

I would add from my own recent experience:

to the guy I chatted with for weeks to get him horned up, fix a date, send him all my details and phots without receiving much back (broken camera, lost USB stick, whatever) and who finally, once we have settled a date to meet up last week, blew it off one hour before: FUCK YOU!

[TheBreeder]

hahaha, great list!!

I would add from my own recent experience:

to the guy I chatted with for weeks to get him horned up, fix a date, send him all my details and phots without receiving much back (broken camera, lost USB stick, whatever) and who finally, once we have settled a date to meet up last week, blew it off one hour before: FUCK YOU!

I'm surprised you actually expected him to show, with that track record. I would've double- or triple-booked.

[cumaddict71]

Maybe I should have... But I am a good boy and do as told...

[breedme420]

I must say that I like the idea of the fuck you lists! LOL...im going to have to start doing something similar in my own life! Ive got too many to list here today for certain, but I think its a great idea; especially if it really works!

[evilqueerpig]

Your Mom was surely a wonderful woman and carrying on her Fuck-You List is a fitting tribute to her.

[Hotload84]

I'd add to the Fuck-You list the residents of a house on my block who park four vehicles in a driveway intended to accommodate one. The bastards' vehicles, which include two cars, a van and a huge lorry, completely block the sidewalk, forcing pedestrians like me to detour out into the street. Yes, we have spoken to the residents, but they keep up with the practice. I need to sic the cops on 'em. Fuck You residents of 12xx Cxxxxxx Street!

[Inception]

People can't help making comments about haircuts and stuff like that, and I think you are too sensitive if you are taking them as "back-handed compliments." Most people are just surprised by change and are awkwardly trying to say something. Last November/December I grew a crazy beard, when I am usually a very clean-cut looking guy, and EVERY single person I ran into either at work or in my building or out socially had to say something. I think it's just human nature to acknowledge a change and most people just speak without thinking and probably don't realize how their comments come across. Really what their comments mean is that they are interested in you as a person. If no one said anything, it would be because you hadn't registered on anyone's radar. Be happy that you make enough of an effect on these people's lives that they can't help but make some lame comment.

Kind of like this one! I don't really know you, but so many of your blogs just make me want to give you a hug.

[TheBreeder]

I think it's just human nature to acknowledge a change and most people just speak without thinking and probably don't realize how their comments come across.

Just because they speak without thinking doesn't mean I'm just as unthinking. Whether they intend it as insult or not, backhanded compliments are insulting, and thoughtless.

The volume of comments doesn't bug me so much. But there's a huge difference between "Hey, I like your new hair!" and the offensive "YOU LOOK SO MUCH BETTER."

That said, I'll always take the hug. :-)

[cumaddict71]

PLUS: You look good in any which way, TheBreeder!

[Bear4Breeding]

Me not much lately but a broad one of late is:

To all those guys who look at the profile but never say a word once they see I am a big boy. FUCK YOU ALL! Big Boys are good, we can take a dick and we know how to Get Fucked Long and Hard! You don't know what you are missing!

[TheBreeder]

Me not much lately but a broad one of late is:

To all those guys who look at the profile but never say a word once they see I am a big boy. FUCK YOU ALL! Big Boys are good, we can take a dick and we know how to Get Fucked Long and Hard! You don't know what you are missing!

Bear, I agree with you about guys who set arbitrary cut-off points when it comes to age or weight, but to be fair, I look at a lot of profiles to which I never say anything, and it's not that I'm keeping quiet because I see how much they weigh, or what color their skin is, or how old they are. There might not even be anything 'wrong' with the profile—I'm just looking at profiles, is all.

If a guy's outright rude to you, then absolutely, fuck them. I wouldn't assume anything just because they show up on your track list and don't say much, though.

[Inception]

I never hook up from online sites, but I look at all the profiles and usually never message anyone. People's profiles always make me think they probably wouldn't be into me. On most sites people can see I checked them out and I figure if they like what they see they'll say something. I never leave my face pics unlocked due to work, but I often recognize many people from their profles when I am out and about, and am often surprised how people who I never thought would be into me hit on me in person. It also often becomes clear how much of people's online ads are bs, like the stud whose manhunt ad says that he is a total top - and then he was riding any and every cock he could get in the 10 man jacuzzi - including mine.

[TheBreeder]

I never leave my face pics unlocked due to work, but I often recognize many people from their profles when I am out and about, and am often surprised how people who I never thought would be into me hit on me in person.

I leave my face pics unlocked—work or no. And I pretty regularly get approached by strangers who recognize me from my photos.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that other people's profiles are BS, though I am always mystified when an alleged top guy's profile shows nothing but seven photos of his ass. I've run across men whose profiles are complete fabrications, or whose photos are a good fifteen to twenty years out of date, but the number of guys who make a good faith effort to be real in their profiles far outweighs the bad few.

[Bear4Breeding]

Bear, I agree with you about guys who set arbitrary cut-off points when it comes to age or weight, but to be fair, I look at a lot of profiles to which I never say anything, and it's not that I'm keeping quiet because I see how much they weigh, or what color their skin is, or how old they are. There might not even be anything 'wrong' with the profile—I'm just looking at profiles, is all.

If a guy's outright rude to you, then absolutely, fuck them. I wouldn't assume anything just because they show up on your track list and don't say much, though.

Good Point Breeder. But there are some guys who appear over and over again. Not sure what there deal is though.