Thursday, October 14, 2010

The Ex - Part II: Tales of a She-male Porn Loving DJ and His Pro-Bowling Aspirations

After my college boyfriend, I decided I needed a new scene.  A whole new type of dude.  I stumbled upon a radio dj.
We only dated for a few months before everything went kaput - and for good reason.


He was from a wealthy family from St. Louis.  One weekend, while he was off being a Citizen Solider, I decided to be extra awesome and clean his apartment.


That's when I found a giant stack of burned cds in the closet that weren't in sleeves or cases.  *STOP*  I know every jealous girlfriend, wife, fiancé,  whatever has said "I wasn't snooping," when in fact, she was snooping - but I really wasn't snooping! I was simply putting away the folded blankets in the bottom of the closet when I knocked over this stack of loose cds that I didn't even know was there. I picked them up and noticed that they were labeled with my initials "S.M" and after my initials, each was numbered 1 - 16 respectively.  Yes, 16. Remember that number. It's horrifying.


Interesting, I thought.  Since he worked at the radio station, I assumed (and you know what they say about assumptions - so true) that these were discs he'd made with my favorite music on them.  Awesome! Something to rock out to while I clean! 


WRONG. Oh, I was so wrong. 


Since he was a dj - he was poor. He didn't have an actual cd player so we used his dvd player for our musical needs, too. I popped one of the suckers into the disc tray excited about the music that was about to fill the room.  I was curious to see what songs he had put the discs. Since I have musical ADD and feel the need to listen to the first 15-20 seconds of each song on a new cd, I got comfy on the floor in front of the tv preparing myself for the inevitable amount of awesome that was about to be played at a  high volume.


And then, the tv screen came to life.  Which is odd, I thought since music cds didn't do that.


Oh. My. God.


Oh. My God.


The tv flickered. 


Whoa. Wait. Did I just see boobs...?....is that a ....? Wait... wha-?  What?  WHAT!? That's a chick....No... no... that's NOT a chick....definatley NOT a chick....


And then, it hit me like a Mack truck.


S.M.


Yes, those were my initials - but these cds were clearly NOT for me.


And you remember that little number behind each set of "my initials?"  Oh yes. There were 16 of them. One six. Sixteen. Six plus ten.  Eight times two.  SIXTEEN porn videos that starred chicks with di--  err... male anatomy.


Needless to say, we broke up shortly thereafter. A while after our break-up, he announced on his myspace that he was now pursuing his dream of becoming a professional bowler (it's important to note here, that we never ever went bowling or even entertained the thought of going bowling the entire time we dated) and how he was "putting all of his eggs into that basket."


I guess bowling suits him well.  He gets to handle great big heavy balls all the time.


3 comments:

Aleah said...

I truly don't know what's funnier - picturing you sitting on his floor, hair in pigtails, thinking "Oh boy oh boy oh boy; he is soooooo into meee!" or the fact that you dated two dudes in a row who were into weiner!!

Stacey said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

I know, right?!

Lauren said...

so THAT is what happened to him.... wow.....