Not A Hugger


My neighbor mentioned a post I wrote and Loony said, “I didn’t read it. Should I?”

And my neighbor said something along the lines of, “Don’t do it! It’s kind of like watching your wife run down the street naked.”

EXACTLY!

I pointed out that Loony has been known to walk down the street naked and he backed me up by saying, “Yeah, sometimes Blue and I go for naked walks in the middle of the night,” to which my neighbor ask why and Loony was like, “Blue always gets to go for walks naked, so why not me?”

Babe, I fucking love you.

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This is so bad that I had to use it

Tabby was a little crabby at pub night because one of the Silkie chicks died which made her extra harsh. But I like it when she verbally abuses me, probably (definitely) because I know she loves me. And her accent sounds extra derisive. So I told her that and it cheered her up.

As a result, she’s been extra mean to me lately.

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She’s like crazy jealous and super possessive!

I figure if I need to have a abusive and controlling relationship to keep me happy, it’s probably better that it be her and not Loony.

Here’s another thing about me. I’m not a hugger.

It’s true! I don’t like hugging. Well, it’s not that I don’t like it but I just don’t feel comfortable doing it … unless I am hugging a person that I know hates hugging more than I do, then I hug them extra hard and long because then it turns into an act of aggression which is much more up my alley.

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Ask any of my super good friends … they all know I don’t hug and they don’t really like to hug either. Like Sideboob, or MPT, or Tabby.

Not huggers.

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It’s a little awkward at parties because I see women greeting each other with hugs and as they come towards me I kind of tighten up. It must be super obvious because I usually get the one-armed side-hug or maybe just a pat on the shoulder.

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I want to be that person who greets everyone with big hugs but I think I might have an overdeveloped sense of personal space … which isn’t the same as personal boundaries –of which I have very few – as evidenced by this conversation I recently had with Sideboob regarding an event boasting having unicorns in attendance.

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While we are on the subject of unicorns, I discovered what I want to be!

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When I bum out about stuff, MPT will console me and make me feel better but she will. not. hug. me.

She even said, “Dude, I would totally hug you right now but, um, no.”

Which is perfect! She knows that I feel much more loved when she is yelling in my face.

Derision is my language of love. You can take that to your therapist.

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Stitch (formerly My Other Asian Daughter) thinks I could make a pretty penny being a pro-dominatrix. I mean, I definitely get how being mean can be exciting.

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I dunno, maybe if this Airbnb thing doesn’t work out.

I just had this conversation with Stitch.

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She totally gets me.

Welp, I guess I’ve exhausted all the shit I can talk about, I can’t put writing that check to the IRS off any longer.

 

 

Really? No way.

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