R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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I dedicate this to all of the little douche bags that hate my face. Without you, well, there wouldn’t be anything to write about.
Lately, things have been a bit of a hate fest. The Animator is talking to me after weeks of silence. Still not sure what I did to piss him off. He has a few excuses, but long story short; I obviously did something I’m not aware of. Oh well, not my issue. Love his face, but I can’t fix what he won’t explain.
Now to the fun drama times that are my life. NYU finally read my blogs about him. Actually, I think he only read the one with his name as the title; one of my personal favorites. To be honest I wasn’t going to write about this until I found out he was bad mouthing me. Call me a douche, see what happens. Love you, but never talk to someone’s friend about them. 
So, NYU was upset that I posted he pestered me to have sex and then when I was bored I told him to finish himself because I was done. What’s so wrong with that? Yes, he has a big penis, but if I’m bored, what’s the point of sitting on it? I mean, really? I found out he was upset when he sent me an instant message on Facebook, of all places.
It was probably a ten-minute conversation. I did save it for posting, but it’s easier to sum up than to force you to read through the entire thing. NYU felt I should have talked to him if I had an issue. I didn’t think there was anything to talk about.  Plus, he isn’t my boyfriend. However, he thought me posting it for the world to read was an invasion of privacy. This blog is just my life. It’s personal narration, nothing more. If you don’t like it, don’t read the shit. It’s as simple as that. There is a reason I use nicknames, so why the hell does he care?
Blah, blah, he thought I should have talked to him and he was disappointed. He thought I was a nice person. My response, everyone should note this, I’m not a nice human being. I have never once claimed to be nice. Candy Mountain can back me up when I say that I walk around telling people I’m a nasty little cunt. If I’m nice to you, it’s because you’re my friend or I’m being paid to. Otherwise, you can really just fuck off. I’m not trying to make friends, I have enough as it is. 
Poor little NYU thinks that I’m a douchee Mr. Hyde. His mistake was assuming he knew me. All guys think they know me, not sure why. The smartest thing would be to listen to the words that come out of my mouth. When I say I’m a bitch, believe it. When I laugh because you fell and hurt yourself, ask yourself why. Would a nice person laugh at you? Probably not, but that’s funny shit. Just sayin’.