fuckboy tales: turdy lamebert, act 1 (the crappening)
let me tell you about this absolute dumpster fire that was turdy lamebert. picture this: ya girl (that’s meeee!) minding her business in boston, probably leveling up my orc rogue in wow, when this creepsicle slides into my dms like he's entering a slippery when wet competition (whatever that is). he was probably hoping for some pixel pussy, the dickhole, heh.
the only time i ever believed this joik was when he first confessed his supposed "crush." i was like, "aww, crushes are fast and they fade so i get it. sure, we can be friends" because i discovered he played wow too, and finding fellow peeps in the gaming realm isn't always easy. but i wasn't looking for love, and said so. just someone to run dungeons with and exchange decent banter.
but this sauce boss of manipulation went from zero to soulmate faster than porphyria attacks my blood factory. "you're my soulmate of the dark," he'd declare, as if that line deserved anything other than a big ole superfingy. like dude, we've exchanged maybe 20 messages—none of which indicated i wanted to bear your children or plan retirement together. thoughts and prayers, asshole.
then poof! ghosted faster than a spirit at exorcism practice. no gaming at all, total blueborlz. classic turdy move #1: the disappearing douchenozzle act. he probably just went off to stunt the wizard hat somewhere else.
the silence was actually a blessing. my sacred place certainly wasn't tingling for this weenis (def not pictured), and i had plenty of grinding to do (in wow, you pervs, not the crotchular kind). boston kept me busy, and honestly, i forgot about him faster than that time i dated the guy whose religion didn’t let him have phones in the house.
had this been the last of lamebert, i’d never be writing this bullshit story.
little did i know this was just the appetizer in the five-course meal of wierd lamebert was preparing to serve. huzzah for foreshadowing, am i right? 💜
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