I've been shot

by the anti-cupid. Playa down!!! Yes, anti-cupid is exactly what it means. The anti-Christ of relationships just hit me with a shit arrow completley out of the blue. So, this is what Bon Jovi was singing about.

You give love a bad name.



You see there is an ex-troll, an ex-hole, and ex...something that I just can't seem to escape. The saying "don't shit where you eat" - yeah, he was somewhere in the making of that saying. He's the plague, but he's not the issue here. The problem is the former friends, now acquaintances, that feel the need to tell me when they see him at the grocery store with his new female victim or at starbucks at 8 o'clock on a Friday night. I don't need to know. No one needs to know.

It's one thing coming from the ex-hole - the random late night texts, the mass Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas tidings, the accidental "bumping" intos - that's always been part of his game, and trust me, I hate the player AND the game. It's entirely different when I have my guard down and I get struck by a wayward arrow from some random bystander who's head is so far up, they can't see the daylight. Really? What did you think I was going to do with that new nugget of info?

I got it - he's just not that into me. I read the book, I eventually applied the principals to my life, now let's just let it alone. Now is the time to let the troll crawl back under his bridge. Anti-Cupid, stop misfiring on me or I will drown your fat little punk ass in my dating pool!