Close encounters of the fuckwit kind.

* This post contains what some may find explicit language. Do discontinue reading if you feel that you may be offended, or if you are not 18+ years of age. If you are in my life right now, then this post is not about you. This post also applies to men, do exchange the "he/she" etc where required.

Feeling vulnerable and alone, through the midst of the gloomy fog strides a man, a gentleman, or so it seems. His exterior oozes charm, and captivating wit, his body bares the most fantastic of spoons to sink into.

All of a sudden I am elevated from the fog into the clouds, the cloud of 9. I am ecstatic, and proudly rocking out my shiniest pair of rose coloured glasses.

As the fog settles, a godly type voice bellows in my ear “He is in fact a FUCKWIT”, my mind disregards godly bellows and carries on with said gentleman. His charming exterior, like the fog, fades to highlight an arsehole inner self. Promptly, I push away and run at full throttle. Feeling my push and the thrill of his chase enhances his extreme charms.  In my vulnerability his force pulls me back. He has me captivated for a moment, until he falls to his face once more. Although it was his fall, I feel humiliated. I continue to run, as I should.

 So it appears, my godly voice is always right. He was in fact a fuckwit! I violently rip off my rose coloured glasses and I stomp the crap out of them. I can see clearly now.

Moral to this story:

“Once a fuckwit, is always a fuckwit”... in most cases. If your inner “godly” voice is telling you as such, then it is always right! You are not deserving of a fuckwit, unless you are one. You shall receive what you expect, life is magic like that! But, it’s your life.

Do as I do, and “Say no to fuckwits!”