Thursday, July 23, 2009

That Shit Don't Fly With Me

Two months ago PLFM started receiving a flurry of emails pointing us to a video of a recently scorned individual named "Ricky" on YouTube.

Ricky used to date a girl named Kelsi, and apparently the relationship didn't work out too well.

Needless to say, Kelsi soon returned to her ex-boyfriend, which didn't exactly sit well with Ricky. He felt Kelsi had manipulated him into believing she loved him, and then dumped his ass for an ex-boyfriend.

Like all mature adults, Ricky decided to post a video tribute to Kelsi on his Facebook page, which eventually found it's way to YouTube.

We'll let you watch the video first, and then we'll get to the rest of the story.

Now, tell me cats don't start fucking hissing the minute that guy enters a room.

Anyway, initially PLFM doubted the authenticity of this video. PLFM puts a lot of work into verifying our stories, and we didn't feel comfortable running the piece earlier because we weren't quite convinced that this wasn't just some random guy acting out a scene from a play.

Well, this week PLFM received another email from devoted PLFM reader VS informing us that Kelsi had actually posted a response to Ricky's video on YouTube, calling him a fucking psycho and congratulating him for making a complete ass out of himself in front of 33,000 people and counting.

Not only did Kelsi post her video, but Ricky's friend also stepped up to the plate and posted her own video defending Ricky.

If you'd like to watch Kelsi's video, you can click the link below.

PLFM warns you, you may start slitting your own wrists about 2 minutes into this. The first minute or so has some audio difficulties.

Kelsi's Response

If you'd like to know how this story turns out, I'm sure you can just tune in to YouTube and they'll tell you.

I promise you I won't be there.

I'm going to go take a fucking shower instead.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Anita Lopez and the Blue Cross Blue Shield Association

PLFM reader AS writes in to share a bizarre website currently making the rounds on the internet.

"John" used to work at Blue Cross Blue Shield Association with a woman named Anita Lopez. BCBSA somehow ended up firing John, and John apparently blames the loss of his job on Anita Lopez.

Since his firing John has constructed an entire website devoted to Ms. Lopez, half of which seems to demonize her for trying to take advantage of him, yet the other half very plainly professing his undying love for her.

I think PLFM reader AS puts it best:

"If Marcel Proust was a self-involved IT contractor for Blue Cross Blue Shield, this is what he would have written in the 21st century."

The website is huge; you'll find phone calls John recorded and uploaded, his complete psychological breakdown of Anita's personality, a list of restaurants they enjoyed, and several "timelines" of his relationship with her before, during and after his firing.

He also offers a recollection of his fondest moments with her which, we might note, seem to us like very normal everyday situations that John really reads too much into.

You certainly won't read the whole thing, but it's worth a look.

Anita Lopez and the Blue Cross Blue Shield Association

Fond Memories of Anita

Let us know what you guys think in the comments.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Game Night

Michelle recently accepted an invitation to join her friend and her friend's father for an evening hockey match in her hometown.

While most men might suggest women only enjoy hockey for the unruly temperment of the scarred and costumed goons blazing around the ice under the power of their rigid yet playful buttocks, Michelle rather enjoys the finer qualities of hockey.

And a fine game she witnessed; the home team scored several goals, and Michelle even caught a portion of a player's ear canal in a cup of Schlitz Malt Liquor.

Michelle's friend's father spent much of the game befriending an older gentleman in the seat next to him. Michelle, who is in her early 20s, estimates the friendy old chap was at least in his early 60's. He was a photographer, and had captured some excellent action shots of the home team scoring.

After the game the older man shared some of his handiwork with the group, and Michelle found a couple of remarkable pictures. The old man offered to send everyone in the group a few selected photos via email, so they proffered up their email addresses and everyone went about their merry way.

Michelle returned home and found an email from the gentleman in her inbox, but with no attachments. Perhaps the older gentleman was having trouble uploading the photos? Perhaps he was just letting Michelle know the pictures were on the way?

Ummm ... no.

"It is possibly the creepiest email I've gotten in my life," says Michelle. "Keep in mind while reading it that I am at least 40 years his junior and that he and I had no conversation beyond an exchange of emails and a request for photographs."

Now folks, let's pour ourselves a refreshing glass of awkward ...

Sweet Miss M,

It was indeed a pleasure meeting you tonite. It's been a very long time since I've had a one on one intelligent conversation with a lady who lives in the same universe that I do. I wanted very badly to ask you to join me next Friday nite and I don't know what stopped me. Oh,yea, you had to go powder your "nose". I just felt so very relaxed talking with you. Am I nuts?

I'd like you to know who I am. If you'd ever like to talk , I stay up until at least 12 MN everynite. I just hate going to bed. I hate hugging that long body pillow every nite. The poor thing is probably pretty doggone tired of being attacked by me, in my dreams, every nite. I get home from Church about 11:15 or so and usually spend the day staying at home. The pool in my apartment complex will be opening up soon. Yahoo!

This is hard to say. I know that I'm not supposed to like you (because of ages). It really is a miserable thing to find someone that is everything you want in a person, their personality, their career choice in a creative art area, their fantastic sense of humor, thier beauty both inward and outward, the way it feels to be with them... so relaxed like I've known her for my whole life.

And in {redacted} where I'm VERY seriously considering moving to permanently to work with a close friend of mine who is a Missionary. I was with him for two weeks a few yeas ago. It was wonderful there. And it is very common there to see men with younger wives. I think I may have my Vasectomy reversed and have a few children. On ONE FOURTH of my retirment I can live in the most luxurious townhouse or rent a house and pay all utilities, food and entertainment. To Bed and dreams.

God Bless You.



Hugh then sent a lovely and heartfelt follow-up email upselling his lifetime of panther-esque genital adventures, along with a technical description of the minutiae involved in reversing his vasectomy.

Because as we all know, nothing ignites the white-hot masturbatory fantasies of a 21 year-old woman more than an elderly individual employing the words "cauterize" and "urethra" in a single sentence whilst waxing philosopically about his own penis.

"It's probably worth noting that my friend and her father didn't get pictures from the guy," adds Michelle.

"I was the only one who heard from him at all. After sharing the email with my friend, I chose not to respond. He sent a few more emails in the same vein as this one over the course of about a week, but eventually gave up, thank god. In comparison to some of the letters on your blog, I think I got off rather lightly."

We agree with you, Michelle.

By the way, how's your "nose"?

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Fan Male

Sunny wrote in to PLFM to share with us a lovely piece of email she recently received from an avid fan of her website.

"Back before I got my own P.O. box, I shared one with my friend Nicole who used hers for business purposes. If anything came for me, she'd call me and usually I'd just get her to open whatever it was while I was on the phone with her, so I'd know if I had to drive over there (20 mins away) tomorrow or next week to pick whatever it was up.

"Nicole called me like she always did and I told her to just open it...let's just say this letter prompted me to get my own P.O. box because poor Nicole's probably scarred for life."

(Click pics for clear version.)

I apologize about the lack of posts lately guys, but as my longtime readers know, I occasionally face insurmountable deadlines at my paying job and the blogs have to take a back seat.

I hope to post to WWHM by Friday and then I'm off on vacation for a week.

We'll be back after that, and please keep sending in your emails!

(As you can see, I also accept letters in .jpeg format if you'd like to scan it.)

-The Weasel

Saturday, July 11, 2009

The Guilt Trip

Clark and Janelle met a couple years ago through an internet message board while Janelle was involved in a relationship with another man.

Clark always seemed like a really nice guy, so Janelle and Clark corresponded occasionally over the internet for the next few years. And mind you, we're not talking about foggy webcams and protein-spackled keyboards; the two were strictly friendly acquaintances.

In the meantime, Janelle's relationship at home began to disintegrate and eventually came to a close.

Janelle and Clark then started to correspond more frequently, quickly graduating from the internet to the telephone. The sparks started to fly.

After a few months, Janelle and Clark finally decided it was time for the two to meet in person. Janelle took the plunge and drove 8 hours to Clark's hometown. They immediately hit it off, and ended up spending a week together. "We had a lot of fun," says Janelle.

So much fun, in fact, that Clark and Janelle decided to begin a relationship. Janelle offered to move to Clark's hometown, but warned Clark that she was in the midst of pursuing an education. Janelle had goals in life, and their relationship would always have to take a back seat to the acquisition of her degree.

Clark agreed, so Janelle moved in with Clark. They finally had some alone time together!

Um ... except when Clark's brother was home. And Clark's brother's girlfriend. And Clark's brother's best friend. And Clarks' brother's best friend's girlfriend. They all lived together.

Now, what I'm about to tell you is probably one the most shocking revelations you've ever read on PLFM, so I encourage you to brace yourselves. Ready? Here we go:

Janelle quickly realized Clark wasn't all he claimed to be over the internet!

You mean to say someone on the internet tried to portray themselves as something they weren't?

Heavens to Betsy, say it isn't so.

As Janelle explains it, Clark apparently had a "past," along with an ongoing relationship with a few questionable substances. And when we say "questionable substances," we're not referring to Tums and Blistex.

Janelle never quite explained exactly what Clark meant when he said he had a "past," but I think we can all safely assume having a "past" never means "I was a Brownie Troop Leader." More often than not, "past" means "jail."

Because of Clark's "past" he claimed he was barely able to provide for himself, not that he really even tried; having a job seriously cut into his pot-smoking efforts. As such, Janelle immediately became the heavy-hitting breadwinner of the household.

Janelle soon realized she wasn't ready to spend the rest of her life languishing with The Partridge Family Without Instruments, so she packed up most of her things and returned home to resume her education.

Well, not surprisingly, needy little Clark didn't like the fact that Janelle had left him to pursue this silly little "education" thing. Why did Janelle need an education when she could live with Clark and six other unmotivated people in a shoebox-sized townhouse? Wasn't his companionship more important than irrelevant nuisances such as jobs, bills, and dreams? Who was going to pay for Clark's Blistex?

The minute Janelle got home, Clark voiced his frustrations with Janelle in a two hour phone call. Going back to school was a stupid decision, he told her. It wasn't fair that Clark had to share Janelle with this "school" stuff, and it wasn't fair that Clark had to move out of his brother's house and across three states if he wanted to continue dating Janelle.

"He asked me why I couldn't just be happy with companionship. I didn't think companionship and being able to pay my bills were mutually exclusive things, but to him it obviously was," says Janelle. "It became painfully obvious to me that he would be much happier if I just took a job flipping burgers and was content to live with him, his brother, his brother's girlfriend, a friend of his brother's and that guy's girlfriend for the rest of my life."

Janelle wasn't much in the mood to explain herself further to this stunted toddler of a man. She asked Clark to mail her the remainder of her things, and cut off all contact.

Well, that made Clark's pants all poopy.

Poopy enough to send this sappy, guilt-ridden ode to Janelle's selfishness.

Slather it on Clark!


What to say, where to begin. How about with the obvious. Where’s your stuff?

Well, I’m broke & have no desire to spend my money on you.

As for the fridge, dvd player, and PS2 I don’t want your possessions. In fact I don’t want anything that reminds me of the once-friend you were. You’ve been more than clear on what you want. You’ve ostracized us from one another. Yes as lovers but more importantly as friends.

You’ve laid the blame at my feet since you left [redacted]…hell, before you left. Where was the compassion, empathy, respect & love that we allegedly had for one another? IF you cared about me you surely did not love me. If so your love is shallow. Reserved for those who don’t contradict you, for those who don’t disappoint you.

I know I have my share of faults and I accept you don’t want to be my love. You put physical distance, then emotional, then a total black-out. You simply removed yourself from my life. I lost someone I dearly loved. I lost the one person I thought of as a friend. Yeah, I’m bitter. You abandoned me.

Since, in all our long and immensely satisfying conversations, the closest you’ve come to accepting any blame, any responsibility, is to apologize for hurting me. How introspective of you! How honest! How fair!

Besides you can always do what you have been since July & just ignore me. Toss this letter in the trash, never finish it, never look back. In all honesty I don’t see why you would finish it.

You’re deaf to my emotions which is all this letter is.

You are callous & indifferent. You’ve hurt me deeply. I just don’t trust you anymore. That’s part of the reason I’m not paying to ship your belongings. Once the business of your stuff is over, so are we.

God it hurts to write that. Tears are in my eyes and my heart is throbbing. But this is the path you’ve chosen. That’s what’s so shitty. You chose and orchestrated these events.

Interesting. Makes me question other things.

I reckon none of those matter.

I’ve eat enough of your shit in the past year. Your motives are far from clear to me or perhaps I turn away from understanding. Whatever the case they don’t matter anymore. It’s your actions (or extreme inaction) that I’m focused on.

You’ve lumped me in the same group as your exes. I don’t really need to say much more on that.

Enjoy your island with it’s volcano.

Enjoy your success in the rat-race of capitalism.

Sincerely I wish the best of luck. I’m angry with you & feel betrayed but it doesn’t change the fact that I care immensely for you. Perhaps when you stop filling your world with distractions you’ll comprehend & maybe fucking care.

I wish to High-Heaven you had opted for communication instead of alienation. At least the friendship would’ve survived.


And might I add: WAHHHHHHHH!

If the fact that you do drugs all day and can barely hold a minimum wage job didn't kill her libido, rest assured your impromptu guilt trip threw her libido in the desert for the vultures to scavenge through.

Here's an idea, Clark.

Stop snorting Tums and get a fucking life.

Or a job.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Prognosis: Asshole

Kathy never quite fit the profile of your stereotypical corn-fed back-country female teenager.

While her overfed and under-educated high school girlfriends expelled a nearly constant stream of undernourished infants onto the floorboards of the town welfare office, Kathy chose to focus on her classwork in hopes of escaping the fate that befell so many generations before her.

Kathy wanted to attend college, move to the big city, and live the life most people in her hometown had only dreamed of. To achieve her goal, Kathy made a promise to her older sister that she would not have sex, drink or do drugs until she graduated from high school.

Kathy succeeded in her mission, and eventually found herself accepted to a number of out-of-state universities. She chose to attend a prestigious college nearly 1000 miles from her hometown, and couldn't wait for her new life to begin.

The hardest part?

Dumping her current boyfriend. "I told Chris I would have sex with him once I graduated but when it came down to it, he wasn't the guy I wanted to lose my virginity to," explains Kathy.

Kathy revoked his HymenPass© and set off for her college dorm, where she placed it a small glass case labelled "Break For Chiseled Buns Only."

Now, Kathy admits that while she was both excited and apprehensive about finally losing her virginity, she wasn't exactly going to give herself away to the first guy she saw. She wanted the right guy.

Kathy joined a sorority at her new college, providing her with ample opportunity to meet plenty of young fraternity men. She started drinking on weekends, hooked up with a few guys, made a lot of friends, but didn't really find anyone intriguing enough to sleep with.

Two months into her first semester, however, she found Todd.

Kathy describes him as gorgeous, charming, and really funny. "When he finally asked me out on a date, I knew he was going to be the guy." (Insert your own pre-teen, mall-style girlish giggles here.)

Todd didn't have much money, so on their first date he invited Kathy over to his room. When Kathy arrived, she found candles on his coffee table and Todd working a hot plate. "He made me what he called 'Todd Ramen.' It was really good and he was being so cute about it because he kept making jokes about how broke he was. I didn't care."

After dinner, Todd and Kathy started getting all hot and heavy on the couch in a manner you might expect from a couple of hot, young, nubile college undergrads, ever anxious to explore each other's tight, beautiful, firm bodies during the prime years of their lives.*


Ultimately however, Kathy didn't close the deal that first night. During a brief intermission in Act III of Fondle Me Gently, Todd asked Kathy "why she was so nervous." Kathy reluctantly admitted she was still a virgin and she wasn't quite sure if she was ready to have sex with him just yet.

Of course Todd was very supportive and understanding, so, according to Kathy, they "watched a movie for the rest of the night."

What movie, Kathy?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Anyway, Todd and Kathy resumed their "relationship." They hung out frequently, met for lunch on campus, and often studied together. Kathy says she still wasn't quite ready to sleep with Todd just yet, but ultimately she knew she would when she felt comfortable. She really liked him. A lot.

But it sounds like Todd began losing his patience.

Todd seemed nice about it the first few times, but eventually he started getting testy when Kathy turned him down, as evidenced by this summarized chat snippet :

Kathy: (why are you) mad at me?

Todd: not mad i dont understand you

Kathy: ?

Todd: ????????

Kathy: what

Todd: why you always stop

Kathy: sorry

Todd: i still want to be with you

Kathy: (you are) with me

Todd: you know what (I) mean

Kathy was ready though, and decided the time had come for Todd to go where no man had gone before.

Todd had invited Kathy to one of their big fraternity theme date parties, and Kathy decided that would be a good night to lose her virginity to Todd. She prepared for the evening the same way every woman prepares to lose her virginity, which I imagine involves the copious application of some type of floral-scented genital powder that comes in a fancy-pants little tin with a mermaid on it.

Kathy got to the party and found Todd pretty drunk already. Kathy began drinking heavily herself, and before you knew it they were already back in Todd's room going at it hot and heavy, much to the chagrin of a certain fraternity couch.

Needless to say, the sex was absolutely amazing.*

*in the same way food poisoning is "amazing"

"It took forever and it was painful," says Kathy, adding "he was a pretty big guy."

Todd eventually got up and put his clothes back on. "Let's go back to the party," he told Kathy, and out the door he went without waiting for her.

That was it.

Kathy put her clothes back on and went back to the party. She only spoke to Todd a few more times that evening, and ended up leaving early to take a sick sorority sister home.

From that point forward, Todd began giving Kathy the cold shoulder. He rarely answered her texts, and always had excuses as to why he couldn't meet up with her. She'd drop by his fraternity and he'd say he was "busy." After a couple of weeks, Todd stopped responding to Kathy altogether. Through a sorority sister, Kathy eventually learned Todd had been pursuing another girl in a different sorority.

Kathy was devastated, and admits she might have gone a little overboard at first with the calls, emails and late-night texts to Todd. But she missed him terribly. She missed his cologne, she missed his smile, she missed her period, she missed his laugh, and she missed his .....

Whoa ... what? Rewind.

Kathy missed her period.

And a pregnancy test confirmed her worst fears.*

* "bees" fell to #2

Kathy initially tried calling Todd to tell him the news, but he wouldn't answer his phone. He wouldn't answer his texts either, so Kathy had to do it the hard way. She'd just text him the news.

"I'm pregnant," she texted.

Todd didn't reply for over an hour, when Kathy finally got this response:

"why are you telling me?"

Enraged, Kathy texted back and received no response.

Later that night, Kathy found the following email in her inbox from Todd.

Take it away, you big charmer:

When someone doesn't answer your texts and doesn't reply to your facebook emails, it means to stop texting me. Now your being plain stupid.

Even if I were to believe you were pregnant it couldnt be me (I don't believe you just so you know but I think we both know you aren't) For the sake of argument I did not come inside you. So how could I have gotten you pregnant? Maybe you should think about our history before you accuse me of getting you pregnant? Quit being so desperate

How many other guys you have slept with, maybe you should ask them Kathy? You play miss innocent virgin, but you shouldn't think I dont know you better now. Maybe I should talk to XXXXX or XXXXX at (fraternity redacted). Should I go on? Or should I embarass you more then you are already? Because I will if you want to keep sending me threats. I already showed XXXXXXX and XXXXXX your texts.

Maybe you should find something better to do with your time, accusing me of pregnancy is the dumbest thing you could have done and now you've pushed my buttons too far. If you don't get it I will gladly spell it out for you.

I didn't get you pregnant, and you might think if you keep calling me or texting me that I will meet with you again, but you are wrong.

The more you text me the more you annoy me and I think youre going to be a stalker which you already are, so if you want me to respect you, you would stop texting me.

Grow up and move on!

Quit e-mailing me and texting me or I will file harassment charges against you with [redacted]


In her letter to PLFM, Kathy responds:

"The two [fraternity redacted] guys he's referring to I didn't do anything with other than make out a little, and Todd knew that. He was the only guy I EVER slept with at that point."

So in a nutshell, Todd knew Kathy was a virgin when he slept with her. Then he accuses her of making up a pregnancy story to get his attention. But then he pulls a 180 and accuses her of getting pregnant by whoring it up like all those recently de-flowered virgin hookers do.

Anyway, Todd didn't respond to Kathy that evening, and she ended up breaking out into hysterics with a large group of her sorority sisters.

The next day, a sorority "strike force" confronted Todd on campus on behalf of Kathy. Kathy's sorority sisters helped Todd understand that, in no uncertain terms, he had impregnated Kathy. If he felt otherwise, he certainly might find his balls in a jar on a shelf somewhere in the medical lab.

Todd apparently came to his senses. Full of regret and feeling badly for the manner in which he had treated Kathy, Todd sat down and wrote a long, beautiful email, baring his soul to Kathy and waxing eloquently about his poor behavior.

Well, not quite.

This is actually what he wrote her:


Do what you have to do and I'll pay my half.

Nice, Todd. Very deep.

We're going to end our story there, folks, but we can tell you Todd fulfilled his promise and left the next semester to a different school. Kathy obviously hasn't heard from him since. Thankfully.

Now, Kathy acknowledged in her letter the tremendous stupidity of not using birth control and realizes she'll probably get bashed for it in the comments, but I'm just throwing it out there so you guys know.

Reader Update from Annie

PLFM recently received an update from "Annie," whose situation with uber-creep "Robert" we profiled in "He Just Doesn't Get It" on May 2nd.

Hey Weasel! This is "Annie" from the story of "Annie" and "Robert."

Robert has never truly ceased to stop contact with me... he still sends the occasional email that says something like "Just wanted to make sure you were alright" or will "accidently" call my phone. The other day he left me a message on the forum we are both on that said "Annie... yes that was me driving behind you this morning... next time don't be a bitch, atleast wave a little." Of course, I now live 300 miles away from him so there's no possible way I was there!

He of course reads my blog and comments on my life, and still tries to contact friends of mine to find out what I am up to on weekends. But of course, the best part and reason I had to email you, was because I just found out that Robert is getting into a new line of work... oh yes, Robert is creating his own DATING SITE! He has been asking my friends for suggestions oh what domain name he should choose for his new site, saying that he has unlocked the secret to dating success!


Thanks for the update Annie, and for all you other readers currently profiled on PLFM, please send in any pertinent updates to your stories. -The Weasel

Sunday, July 5, 2009

No, It's Because You're An Asshole

Gina recently accepted an opportunity to join in on a roundtable discussion regarding subtle racial tensions on her college campus.

Afterwards, a man named Carl approached Gina for a little one-on-one conversation.

Apparently, Carl felt the best way for different groups of people to come together was to literally have them come cum together.

"Out of pretty much no where, he came on to me in a very explicit, gross, sexist way," says Gina.

Carl began their brainstorming session on race relations with a two-part story detailing how he lost his virginity.

In the first part of his story, Carl gleefully and graphically recollected the day he lost his virginity to an "ugly girl." While Carl didn't much care for the girl, he decided to give her a "couple of pokes" anyway.

In the second part of his story ... oh, wait, there was no second part.

But thankfully, according to Carl, there was a lesson learned:

"Once you go black, you never go back."

Which proved Carl was not only comfortable in sharing his sexual exploits with complete strangers, but he was completely fucking unoriginal in every sense of the word.

Carl began pressing Gina to provide information regarding her sexual history, at which point Gina explained to Carl she was extremely uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken.

Carl understood and dropped his line of questioning, but filled the sudden lull in their conversation by describing his long-time sexual "fetish" for Jewish girls.

Yes, that's right, Carl loved Jewish women, but of course he would never go down on one.

In fact, Carl told Gina that he never goes down on women. If the two began dating sometime in the near future, Carl insisted he would not perform oral sex on Gina, but, of course, Gina would be required to perform oral sex on him.

Carl's girlfriend thankfully interrupted the conversation with a phone call, and Gina listened in as Carl lied to his girlfriend about his whereabouts. They were in the common area of her dormitory, but Carl told his girlfriend otherwise.

Gina was pretty sure she knew the type of guy she was dealing with now.

"I got nervous about kicking him out because he was being so aggressive and I didn't want to incite a confrontation since there was no one around, but after I insisted he leave, I began to get a series of emails, to which I mostly did not reply."

After receiving several graphic emails, Gina informed Carl he needed to refrain from contacting her any further. If Carl sent her one more email, she would immediately request a restraining order against him through the campus police department.

And we all know what that means here at PLFM.

It means Carl responded with the following email:


I tried to be the big person in order to bring an end to this senseless animosity. However, one individual can only do so much. I have done all that I can. But I leave you with one last thought.

Do you wonder why all of the black kids sit with each other in the cafeteria?

It’s because they are both afraid to interact with people of another race and they have had negative experiences. I tried not to be one of those stereotypical black students at [college redacted] that only talks to my on kind but time after time I see that it’s no use.

I count you in those throngs of white kids that don't understand us around campus and don't care to understand us. I just don't understand how anyone could turn away a chance to bring an end to senseless racial tension through simple interact(ion).

I won't even go into the animosity between blacks and Jews. You can ponder that yourself as you ask how many black people actually show up at XXXXX XXXXXXXXX (even during black history month).

And now I will end this.

But I hope in the future that you remember all of this next time you wonder why the black kids don't interact with you much around campus.


Hmmmm, Carl.

That's strange, because Gina actually volunteered to attend the meeting in order to discuss solutions for improving relations between different groups on campus.

Yet all you wanted to talk about was your fucking dick.

So, in turn, we hope in the near future you'll discover the reason women refuse to interact with you on campus has nothing to do with the fact that you're black.

More likely, it's because you're a whole new strain of fucking asshole.

Adds Gina: "I'm (sending this to PLFM) two years later because I no longer get shaky and nauseated just thinking about it, and it feels therapeutic."

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

One Bad Date

Today, PLFM takes a step back and lets two fighters duke it out.

Now, PLFM didn't get much backstory on today's case, but one thing is very clear:

There's some free planters sitting out on the corner somewhere in Baltimore.

Now, let's go over what we do know:

Dan and Laura recently went out on a date.

Maybe two, we're not really sure.

Initially, it sounds like Dan and Laura felt a little spark between one another.

But somehow, somewhere, the spark suddenly exploded, and both parties got burned.

And today, my friends, we sift through the ashes.

First up, we have Dan providing a little sunshine:


I'm really sorry if I did anything to upset you. I was really happy to have met someone with a very silly sense of humor, open minded, attractive and jewish. I was excited that you are going to journey out to XXXX and just (and still) wanted to be helpful.

I'm home from work and running errands in the area. If you are around I will quickly pick the planters up and be on my way.



Hmmmm, Dan's email seems a little cloudy.

Perhaps Laura can provide some cleansing rain?


You are a cool guy, but it boggles my mind that you walked up to the ticket booth and said, "1 for star trek" and then stepped aside so I could get my own ticket. Where I come from a guy pays for a woman in the beginning.

While I was shocked when you took the $ at the bar on Saturday, I recognized that I did offer.

You made me laugh so hard and I had a good time that I chose not to dwell on a petty $ issue, but then you did it again.

It's just not classy, especially when followed by a comment along the lines that you thought you'd get more, like a kiss or something when I went to say goodbye outside the theater.


I'm actually in and out all day. I can leave the boxes outside, like I mentioned, so you can pick them up. Does that work?


And now take cover my friends, because here comes Dan's big thunder!


Thank you for writing back and being honest.

Allowing you to pay for your own ticket "boggles your mind", huh?

Well, I'll tell you what boggles MY mind. For some reason you have these outrageous expectations that a man can only be classy if he gives the woman he's interested in a total free ride.

You claim to choose to not dwell on a petty money issue, but that's exactly what you are doing. You actually chose to focus your emotions on whether I was picking up your bar tab instead of allowing you to possess a modicum of self reliance.

Where *I* come from, it is 2009 and its a great place to live. This is where women aren't looked at as 'the fairer (read "weaker") sex, but seen as equals to men. Its not the 1950's which was a time of one-income households, but a time of shared burdens.

Oh sure there are plenty of sugar daddies to be found out there, but how many of them will give you the same deep belly laughs where your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard? If you hold on to those outdated beliefs of yours, then you should also be eagar to service the man that is bankrolling you too, b/c that's what is expected from that type of exchange.

When I tried kissing you in the vestibule before the movie, you muttered a remark which you did not want to repeat, but now I understand it was likely about accepting your previous offer of buying your own drink. I'd say that's painfully shallow, forgetful, and hurtful that you so easily overlooked my previous generosity.

I feel obligated to recap the charges I DID pay for since you are clearly caught up on the two that I didn't.

Starting with paying for that second slice of pizza you split with Bob the first night meeting you, there was your lunch after the park, 70% of that burger meal, buying our breakfast the morning of Lowes, getting a six pack for you & Christy, graciously supplying greeeens the whole time I was with you, and even after you went ice cold b/c I didn't pony up your movie ticket, i STILL covered the popcorn and soda even though you asked me so sourly.

Now lets talk about class and "classy". One of the reasons why I didn't pay for your movie ticket was b/c I wasn't sure what was going on in your head up to that point in the day. You had stopped being flirtatious. The whole walk to the theater you were cold to me. I was feeling rather unappreciated and also somewhat confused by how you were behaving.

I showed the quality of my character and had been a complete gentleman throughout by running out specially for drinks, running up and down the stairs for water, being genuinely concerned for your friend's well being, making your neighbor's children laugh, entertaining your friends and even helping you paint!

I'd say that's pretty high class, and had you shown me some interest and not gotten caught up in that small minded thinking I most certainly would have bought the movie ticket too. THAT is just the kind of guy that I am.

Amongst my friends and family, I'm well known as being very generous with my money and most especially generous with my time. So after the movie when I said that I thought I'd get more of a response from you, or at the very least a goodbye kiss, yeah, REALLY.

Overall, you need to re-examine the values you look for in a man. It boggles my mind that you squashed something that I thought could have been really great between us b/c your movie wasn't on my dime.

I work really hard and long hours and put up with a ton of crap for my dollars. I don't think you can say the same, yet you have an outrageous sense of self-entitlement that is pretty undeserved.

I'm bummed it didn't work out between us, but not too bad since I see you are quite superficial and not worth a quality guy like myself.

One last thing, you can keep those planters. It will almost cover the cost of the burger and movie ticket while saving me travel time and keeping my dignity.




Pretty harsh email there, Dan.

I don't know though folks, this could be a tough one.

Was Laura wrong for sparking the money issue?

Was Dan a cheap asshole? Or was he an asshole for the reason he was being cheap?

Or both? Or neither?

Either way, from now on I'm pretty sure vaginas will slam shut around Dan like his penis was selling vacuum cleaners.