The following has been plucked from my extensive dating files, which I will be plundering for the foreseeable future...

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Last night a friend of mine came over and we watched ‘The Mist’ together onDemand. She’s a friend whom I occasionally have carnal knowledge of, that is - if the state of affairs in both our lives happen to lead us to that particular door. I hardly ever see her, but we keep in touch through e-mail. She’s a Lilliputian Asian princess from Lyons, France. She’s currently sporting these severe bangs, and resembles Bail Ling, if Bail Ling had an accent like Charles Boyer - I tell you, hearing that voice coming out of that face is a trip.

We didn’t do anything last night besides watch that movie – which by the way you must avoid at all costs.

She’s currently dating a longshoreman with a heart of gold whom she’s bored to tears by. The guy adores her, dotes on her, buys her expensive Union fortified presents of the jeweled variety, and still she’s sneaking around on him. She wanted to have sex, but I didn’t feel like it. More to the point, I didn’t feel RIGHT about it. I think it was best said in the bible - ‘spareth your rod in another man’s spoils…’.

Check it out for yourselves, it’s in the rods section..

She’s irritating, I must say. If I was going to be totally honest with myself, I’ve never really liked her all that much. Self-involved to a clinical extent, entitled, judgemental, and vain, she’s a major drag – and I have no qualms about saying this here in public, ‘cause she doesn’t know I blog - she really cares less about what goes on in my life, unless it pertains to her directly.

After she left, it made me think, just how many women whom I’ve been involved with have I actually LIKED?

I’d have to say the number is pretty small. That leads to the question, ‘Why the hell would I ever be with women I didn’t like?’

The answer? Fucked if I know.

I lived with someone for 3 years whom I not only didn’t really like – I didn’t even really KNOW her. I always felt as if I was living with a shadow. Our interaction was mundane, minimal and unmemorable, and yet I was with her for 6 years. Why?

How important is it to like someone in a relationship?

I think I’d go one further, I’ve had very few FRIENDS that I‘ve actually liked.. Sure, we would hang out, and converse. Usually it would be in a group, and we would all feel some kind of collective something or other, but could I say I genuinely liked them? Ok. There were a few when I was kid that I really liked, but that was more of an adolescent male bonding thing. Later in life, I’ve realized just how isolated I am from the world around me. Have I just lost patience? Maybe it’s just depression. Who knows.

After she left I jerked off to some YouPorn.. It’s free.