Shit.

Do you ever have those "special" moments in the day where you just want to say "What...The...Shit just happened?!" I'm not exactly sure whether this is normal or not, but I experience this ALL the time... Like on a daily basis sort of ALL the time, so I figured I would share with you. 

My life is a four letter word. 

This blog is a series of my many mistakes -- mostly involving men, or being asked out in the strangest/stupidest/crudest/rudest ways possibly, been told fucked up stories, met random strangers, and much more that make me say... Oh God. My friends laugh at my general misfortune or ridiculous experiences that could not be made up. Even if I tried. 

To ensure no one is mortified by these accounts, all names will be changed.

Shit.

Shit is a four letter word that pops in to my head quite often... "Holy shit!", "What the Shit?!", "Oh Shit!", or just plain old "Shit." is a preference to say after some joke life has played on me. It was exclamatory when I realized I needed to start writing some of this shit down...

Like this one time (no... Not at band-camp... Rude), I was at a bar watching the final game for the Stanley Cup playoffs, and I happened to be texting (a boy... Obviously), when I get a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and this 50+ Iranian man goes, "I just had to tell you, you are the fastest texter I have ever seen... I want to enter you in to a texting contest..." uhhhmmmmmm whhhaaaaaatttt?! I say to myself... "Who IS this guy?!" as it continues to get worse. He's blabbing away when he goes, "and not that I'm reading your message or anything..." okay, obviously you were because you just said that. Ew. "... But you didn't even make one mistake! I am going to enter you in to a texting contest!!!!!" Bingo!... and Shit. Ok, so a) he was watching me text, b) he's reading my messages (can anyone say AWK!) c) he wants to enter me in a texting contest... Holy shit! Who DOES that!? So then this lovely specimen of a man asks what I do, because obviously (his words:) I must be smart because of how well I can text without making mistakes... I mean, I guess that must make me smart, EXCEPT A 5 YEAR OLD CAN DO IT!!! So I go on and tell him blah blah blah (booooooooorrrrinnnnggggggg), and he tells me he is a web designer. Great. Then he exclaims: "Ah! Because you are so smart you should look at my new website I am in the process of reconstructing. I would looooove to hear from you and tell me what you think!" and proceeds to hand me his business card. Ok, he wants ot hear from me again. Gross. Let me tell you that I am in my twenties and he is ooohhhhhh OVER 50. Ugh. 

So old man leaves and I'm left to enjoy the rest of the period of hockey... Which is like one minute because he talked for so dang long... And I hand his business card to my friend M who is a web genius. Later that night I get an email with a link from M telling me to check out webby's website... Lets just say this guy should quit his day job, and maybe start thinking about talking to girls his own age. Shit.