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Dear Remington,

You suck.

Sincerely,

Gizah

——-

Seriously though.  This has been today’s conversation:

Remington: Good morning.
Me: Good morning.
(10 hrs later)
Me: Good evening.
Remington: Hello.
Remington: Would you still like to meet me Saturday?
(I was working.  I was texting/talking with multiple people regarding work stuff.  40 minutes later.)
Remington: I guess not.
Me: Don’t get your panties in a wad.  I’m a social worker.  I don’t have set hrs.  You know what though, I don’t really think I want to meet.  Your demanding attitude is already wearing on me.  I’m sorry.  :-/
Remington: Go fuck yourself!
Remington: You fucking texted me good evening. Maybe if you felt that I was too demanding you shouldn’t have texted me.  All you bitches on dating sites want to play fucking games.  I’m sick of it.  Lose my number.

Really?  No problem yo.

(Dun, dun, dun.  Another one bites the dust!)

Go me.

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