Me, on a rant to a female friend: "I'd be much better off mentally if it wasn't for the dirty, disgusting, trash-bag hos I've dated in my life..."
Friend, with wide eyes, amazed: "...So what does that make you?!?"
That was last Saturday. I'm still trying to answer the question.
In a related story, "Shelley" keeps calling and trying to be friends, and I'm sick of ignoring her calls. I shouldn't be afraid to tell her that I don't want to be her friend because she pretended to be interested in me in order to get my money and that's not my definition of "friend." But I am afraid. I guess it proves that you can shit on me and use me all you want, but I still can't call you on it and push you out of my life because I'm so lonely. Maybe I like seeing Shelley's number come up on my caller ID. Maybe I like pretending that a woman is calling me because she would like to speak to me and socialize with me, even though I know that would never happen. I'm glad I start my new job Monday for no other reason than I won't have so much time to sit and ponder what a fucking loser I am.