I'm just about to get into bed and the phone rings. My heart jumped a little because I thought it might be a certain someone surprising me with a bedtime call.

Instead...MUTHERF*CKER. It was Mister 3.5 Inches! Yes, folks...Mister 3.5 inches, the star of such postings as When Real Life Is More Disgusting Than Fiction where I describe how he contracted a fungus on his hand and cock becaue of excessive masturbation and Things You Shouldn't Do While Driving where I describe his other degenerate behaviors.

What the F*CK???? We broke up in January of 2002 & I've never once (thankfully) seen him since. The last time I heard from him was last spring & I blogged about it here.

The following are some actual excerpts from our conversation. You can't make this stuff up!

Remember---he's a total alcoholic, so imagine a deep voice with a Queen's accent but slightly slurred...

Mr. 3.5 Inches: I wanna know, did I leave a bad taste in your mouth?
NYM: You were a total fucking asshole and I don't even have one good thing to say about you.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: Thank you very much for waking me up to the asshole that I am.
NYM: You're welcome. You treated me like shit
Mr. 3.5 Inches: I actually think the opposite. But I tried. I really tried. And I never slept with anyone else.
NYM: *Laughs maniacally* Are you serious? You're a pathological liar. It's four years later & you're STILL lying!
Mr. 3.5 Inches: I still think about you.
NYM: *Laughs maniacally, again, at the absurdity of it all* You treated me like dogshit!!
Mr. 3.5 Inches: I did not. I was hoping we could have lunch or dinner. You were a part of my life & I still care about you.
NYM: *Giggles hysterically yet again* You're a pathological liar. I never think about you and I couldn't care less whether you live or die.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: I was that bad?
NYM: You were one of the biggest assholes I've ever dated. You're a liar, a user, a cheater, and a verbal and emotional abuser.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: I don't lie. I live & die by the truth
NYM: And yet somehow you continue to breath.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: Why do you think I call you? it's because I care about people. Teach me. Teach me what I did wrong. Please tell me why I'm an asshole.
NYM: You have no feelings.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: I have a lot of feelings & one day when I blow my brains out at the top of the Empire State Building I'll think about you.
NYM: *Laughs so hard she can't even breath*
NYM: *Catches her breath finally and says* I feel like I'm demeaning myself by speaking to you.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: You really feel that way?
NYM: Yes.
Mr. 3.5 Inches: Well,I still love you kid.
NYM: Bah---& I hung up.

But the bastard will call again at some point. I guess whatever pussy he had must have recently dumped him, so he was going through his rolodex of old girlfriends. What a f*cking wanker.

I'm still feeling sort of shakey. Why can't my bastard ex-boyfriends ever just leave me alone?

Posted by NYM at 10:49 PM
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