Yeah yeah yeah, I know you’re glad I’m back.
I had to lay low for a while after my appearance on Dateline, but I am happy to announce that the city of Long Beach has dropped all charges against me! Lesson learned!
(If by “lesson learned” you mean “don’t pick up 15 year olds on the internet unless you know they’re real 15 year olds.”)
Anyway, I was going through his computer looking for his social security number when I realized dipshit left himself logged in to his blog, so rather than have him bore you to death with some jackass “comedy” story, I figured ol’ Chad would grace your pathetic lives with an update.
Basically, my life is shit. Why? Because my bitch girlfriend, Kelsey, is going through menopause.
I mean, what the fuck, right?
The best part is she keeps lying about it and telling me that 23 year olds can’t go through menopause. Probably cuz she thinks I’ll leave her ass if it’s true.
Yeah, just as soon as menopause causes your huge inheritance to dry up.
Speaking of dry, that’s what first tipped me off.
Sometimes when I’m banging her, it’s like jammin’ my wang into a glove made out of sandpaper.
She claims it’s because my verbal and emotional abuse doesn’t get her in the mood, but I doubt that. Chicks love that shit, trust me.
Plus, I’m drunk and I just got done cheating on her, I’m not gonna be all looking to make out and do sweet talk and whatever the hell it is you do when you’re not Chad Robuckle and you want to have sex.
So that was strike one. I mean, I watch TV, I know what they say in those commercials. Which leads me to my second sign that she’s got menopause: irritability.
The other night, I told her to go to Subway and get me a footlong and she started whining about how it was 3 am and she was tired and blah blah blah.
Look, I’m not saying I would have done it for her. Recently, she’s put on some weight and frankly doesn’t need to be stuffing her face late at night. But c’mon, it’s not a big deal to go get me a sandwich. The Subway down the street is open 24 hours a day. The one by the bus station where that girl got murdered by those transients late at night.
I started poking her and turning the lights on and off, but she wouldn’t budge.
Then, not only did she not get me my meatball sub, she wanted to talk about how I don’t respect her or something. If I didn’t respect her, would I have put a pillow over my head and gone back to sleep? I didn’t make you get the goddam sandwich, so shut the hell up already.
A relationship is based on being partners and stuff, it’s not based on being a bitch.
So this brings me to my third clue.
If you’ve watched those ads where some old broad with grey hair starts whining about her hot flashes, you have a window into my world, lately.
Kelly will not shut up about how hot she is every night.
Jesus Christ, I’m sorry I’m not a bizallionaire like your douchebag dad. Not everybody can afford to have air conditioning in their bedroom closets.
It’s plenty cool in bed, so maybe if she would get over her menopause, I’d let her sleep there with me, but since she won’t shut up about how hot it is, I’m not about to let her out and have her ruin my night too.
So that, in a nutshell, is my life.
Just my luck, eh? I manage to pick the one 23 year old super rich hotel heiress with menopause. Nothing ever goes right for me.
Alright fruits, I’m out of here. I’m gonna go hit up some terrorism chat rooms using dickwad’s login name and then call the feds on him. That’ll be hilarious!