the farewell post

Hi Readers,

So, yeah. You heard correctly - this is my last post on this blog. Although I love it and have had a good time writing it and talking about it, like all hilarious things it must come to an end.

You know why?
It's just not funny anymore.

Although I pride myself on my ability to find humour in every situation, even the strongest boxer will get knocked out if he's punched in the face repeatedly, right? And I feel like I'm somehow endorsing this behaviour by turning it into humour.

So here's a PSA to the men who read this blog: it's not cute. Cut it out.

Thanks to those of you who read it, laughed at it, and asked me to post more.

Oh wait, before we say goodbye forever, here's a post I wrote but never published giving you updates on some of our favourite characters...enjoy:

Updates
So a few weeks back I went to a party to celebrate a little phenomenon I like to call "another one bites the dust". The party was largely a snooze schmooze-fest, but was brightened slightly by the appearance of not one but two former post subjects.

Sidebar: there was also another one who was never written about but should have been for asking for my number, stroking my vajinga in public to seal the deal, and then never calling me.

The first you may remember as the incognegro non-email responder. I bump into this one regularly so it was no biggie but he did manage to IRK me by gleefully introducing me to his girlfriend and managing to refer to said girlfriend as his girlfriend twice in three seconds. Impressive. However did I let this gem slip away?

Anyway, the real story of the evening was the appearance of the one I never wanted to write about. When last we saw this jackass, he was promising to call me on Friday. Three years passed and I'm still waiting on that call. And what's surprising is that I haven't even bumped into him in all this time, despite the fact that we live in the same city, are from the same city, and have tons of mutual acquaintances. It's quite odd, now that I think about it. Friends have been married, had children, had birthdays, and yet I've never seen him. Kinda makes me think he's been avoiding me.

Sidebar #2: Now that I think about it, I did once drive by him as he was riding his bike on College and I was driving home from a pole-dancing class. I remember being really, really tempted to hit him with my car. But I didn't.

Anyway, this jackass showed up wearing shiny highwater pants, white socks, black pointy loafers, and carrying a murse. (I tell you, I've picked some real winners in my time). I spotted him not long after he got there and immediately dragged Mansa and Sharon over to see him. "He better not twist his mouth to speak to me" I growled mutinously.check the shoe/sock/pant combo if you don't believe me.

About an hour went by and no mouth twisting was occurring. And I was starting to get even more irked because was this guy really trying to NOT speak to me? But of course eventually he slithered up to me like the shiny snake he is.

I can't recall the conversation exactly but I know it started like this:

Him: staring at me giving me his puppy-dog-I'm-sorry eyes
Me: "oh don't start with the fucking puppy-dog eyes!"
Him: continuing to stare with the puppy-dog eyes
Me: "Are you going to speak?"
Him: a full minute of puppy-dog staring
Me: "Ok you let me know when you actually have something to say"

Eventually he said he was sorry. Then immediately asked if I forgave him. I said "um, excuse me it took you three years to apologize - could I maybe have three minutes before you force me to accept?". He asked if he could hug me. I grudgingly let him. He explained that he was a coward and afraid of confrontations. I gently suggested that he not do fucked-up things to people and then they would probably not want to confront him.

We continued to chitchat for a few minutes until what I can only assume was his next victim came to collect him. We said our goodbyes and then I said "Don't be a stranger".
"I won't" he promised.
"You know where to find me," I said with a classic Max-smirk.
"I will" he said.

and then

and THEN
and then...you know the rest.

Thanks all.

xoxo
max

the litmus test

here's an observation:

every man who has ever expressed dismay about the possibility of being written about in my blog....has gone on to do something blog-worthy.

isn't that interesting?

Random Funny Story

So this one doesn't really involve a man not calling me but it's still funny as hell.

To  me, anyway.

Many, many years ago I had a little on again, off again thing with this guy. He was a rapper of moderate fame in Canada and when things first began with him his star was on the rise so he was pretty busy. Hence the transient nature of our...affair?

Anyway. Whatever you want to call it, it went on for months and it involved secks. A fair amount of it. And fainting. I once fainted during secksy time with this guy; which I believe he took as a testament to his manhood but in actuality was probably because all my fake ardor caused me to start hyperventilating. But whatevs. 

Where was I? So it went on for a few months and then died out because I moved back home to London. When I moved back I was busy not being called by various other riff raff so I really wasn't thinking about him at all.  But then one day I bumped into him at Fluid.  He was with some friends of his who were also friends of mine so by the end of the night our two groups had converged into one happy family. 

Now he has this one pervy friend who had taken a shine to my sister. So at the end of the night while she was being molested by dancing with him, Mr Rapper Man and I found ourselves standing relatively close to one another watching them. We hadn't spoken all night so I decided to be a big girl and go talk to him. So I went over, we started chatting. It soon became very apparent that had been brushed with the drunken stick. I persevered - what else did I have to do? And I guess in his extremely inebriated state he mistook my dogged friendliness for...interest?  Because he said to me "...if you're wondering what it would be like to be with me we could make that happen..."

Um, excuse me?

First of all, who SAYS that? And secondly, in the immortal words of Darius Lovehall: "we've already done it! I mean, repeatedly!"

And that's all there is to say about that isn't there?

why i don't date white guys

Years ago when I was in school I had these two friends Adam and Cory. They were the kind of white guys I hate now...loved hip hop and thought that made them "down", called each other "bro", you know the type. I really only tolerated them because Adam was a) biracial and b) cute.

Anyway, these dudes were responsible for the only two experiences I’ve ever had with white guys - which is amazing if you consider that I grew up in London Ontario. One was the fabulous Bobby who kissed me for the first time in his parents' bathroom next to the Elvis clock and with whom I got down 'n dirty in his jeep on the grounds of Brescia College - where the nuns live in London.
I know - I was scandalous.

Anyway, the other we'll call JP. And JP was, well, straight up whiter than the whitest white man. Let’s take a look:

He was from PEI
He played hockey
He had some kind of mullet

But ole JP had two things going for him: he was adorable and he was riding my jock hard. So yeah I let him take me out a couple of times and yes I went home with him one night.

We lay on his bed and it was lovely. Oh, so lovely. Until JP had um, an equipment malfunction?
"Poor thing" I thought. Because as embarrassed as I was, I knew he had to be absolutely mortified.
"I’m sorry!" he nearly sobbed. "I’m so sorry!"
"It’s okay" I murmured encouragingly. I really felt bad for him

Until this:
"I’m so upset! I waited my whole life to be with a black girl and here you are and look!"

(gesturing southward)

Um, yeah. so not only have you wasted my time, and left me with blue "balls", but you thought it was a good idea to tell me I’m the living manifestation of some massa-mammy fantasy you've been harbouring?!?

I was not impressed. But not wanting to kick a "man" when he's down (literally), I calmly got up and left, not letting on just how much I wanted to smack his pasty face.
but then
but THEN
but then he never called me!

the question of the day

hi all,

i'm switching it up today - instead of a story i'm giving you a question to ponder:

"i don't want a relationship"

just chatting with one of my girls who has been given this speech more times than she can count. and i know my toronto ladies must wish they had a dollar for every time they heard that. 

but what does it really mean?

if you live with a man, wash his dirty drawers, cook his food, meet his mother, and know his online banking password, can you say you're not in a relationship?

what about if you talk to him every day, think of him as soon as you wake up and last thing before you go to bed, sleep hugged up with him - satin scarf and all - and get up and make him breakfast day after day? are you really not in a relationship?

is "i don't want a relationship" just a euphemism for "i don't want monogamy"?
"i don't want drama"?

"i don't want to have to be considerate of you if it's inconvenient for me"?

i know i have told men in the past that i don't want a relationship. but was that what i really meant? i know what i don't want  - i don't want shared addresses, co-parenting of pets, other-girl-drama, and fighting that you have to endure because it's less complicated than ending it and most of all i don't want to get punched in the face - neither literally nor figuratively...but i don't like sharing and i want to know that he'll still be there tomorrow. so does that mean i want a relationship? 

and really when you think about it, isn't everything a relationship?

drop your thoughts in the comment box.

(don't worry - i'll be back soon with more misadventures)

I'm baaaaaaaack!

Hi all!
I'm terribly sorry that I haven't updated in a very.long.while.
I didn't really think anyone read this blog (and it kind of puts a damper on your love life when you have a dating blog) but thanks to Sharon, Kim, and Sandra (and Mansa for introducing me to all of them) I now know that I do have readers. 

Those of you who know me know that I took a good long break from the dating tings. And I've only just begun to dip my toe back into the water. It's been...interesting but unfortunately this new breed of men does call. It's just what they say afterward that's sometimes a problem :|

So the good news is, there will be more posts. The bad news is they won't all be about men not calling me. But they will be funny. And true.

Stay tuned ladies....and men, be warned. 

A moral dilemma

Hai ladies!
So - question for you. What do you do if you get a DIRTY punkoff from a dude but he specifically asks you not to blog about it? Does the unofficial moral code of blogging that you don't write about people who don't want to be written about stand? Or does the fact that you're still picking your face up off the floor from his HARD kick cancel any obligation you might have had to him?

Good question. Post me a comment and let me know what you think. Most popular opinion wins...

The Little Engine that Could

This is an oldie but goodie.


So...many years ago I went on a date with this guy. The date was so unspectacular that I literally cannot remember anything about it – I don’t know where we went, what I wore, what he said, nothing at all except that I parked my car in a green P lot near Yonge & College. Actually – that’s one thing I remember – he didn’t drive. And y’all know how I feel about that right??

I wasn’t feeling this guy at all. He was a singer and male singers tend to annoy me. They just think they’re so NICE. Even when they look like the bottom of my shoe. This guy wasn’t that horrid but he definitely thought he was destined for superstardom and that I should count myself lucky that I was given an audience with him.

Sidebar: A few years after our date this guy ended up as a finalist on Canadian Idol (and no, Mansa it’s not Gary Beals!). So I'm sure his swagger has multiplied exponentially since then. Let’s hope some other things have as well, but we’ll get to that later.

Anyway. Like I said, I wasn’t feeling this guy. And in my younger years I had this tactic that worked like a charm to get rid of guys: just fuck them. Literally, not figuratively. If you go on one date with a guy and you never want to see him again, sleep with him and chances are he’ll disappear from the face of the earth. Also, that way you get sex. And you know what they say right? Sex is like pizza – even when it’s bad it’s still pretty good. I don’t do this anymore because it’s kinda nasty but back then I had slightly looser morals.

So I brought him home with me. (He was younger and lived at home in some G-d forsaken place like Ajax or something). The foreplay must have been weak sauce because I don’t remember it at all. What I do remember is the histrionics that ensued. Once I ascertained that he was inside me (and trust me I had to do an extremity-count because I couldn’t feel much) I was absolutely astounded by the caterwauling that went on. He was bucking and weaving, moaning and panting and sweating. And sweating. There was so much sweat I have to say it twice. This dude sweated out alllllll my edges. It was about 10,000,000 kilowatts of energy to light a 40-watt bulb. You know what I'm saying? I was completely flabbergasted. And thank G-d for that because if not I would have fallen asleep, it was that bad. I just laid there, watching this bead of sweat collecting at the tip of his chin and thinking “yes work that little dick boy”. And if you know me at all you know I don’t talk like that ever so trust me when I tell you it was so crazy it gave me multiple personalities.

Anyway, to add insult to injury the shit didn’t go on very long either. No length, no girth, no stamina. Poor child. I feel sorry for his wife. It was over, he was wack, I was sleepy (and obviously needed a shower). He left, promising to call me the next day.

You know the rest right?
And then…and THEN…
And then he never called me!

p.s. I saw him a few months later and some party or another. He made the mistake of trying to speak to me. I gazed at him coolly over the tip of my cigarette and said “anything you have to say to me you should have said when you called me the day after you fucked me. Oh – wait, you didn’t. So please don’t speak to me.”

Was that rude??

The most celibate person you know

The text of this post has been removed thanks to Mansa, who reminded me that people do actually read this blog.

Forget what I said 'kay ladies? I have a whole lotta sex. Like, all the time. I'm having some right now. Oooh oooh yeah.

a banner week

Well my friends I have a great one for you today.

So it was my birthday about a month ago and I celebrated by tagging on to my friend Neddy's birthday party in Yorkville. I spent most of the night on the smoking patio where I met this boy named Leslie (not his real name). he was....alright. alright looking, alright personality, but he had two major things going for him: he smokes and he wore Gucci shoes. he asked me for my number even though I told him I had a boyfriend, which should have been my first clue but since I don't really have a boyfriend I didn't want to be a stickler :) he called the next day (second clue) and we had a conversation that can only be described as...unspectacular and kind of annoying - ladies you know the type, doesn't identify himself, keeps talking to other people in the room, calling me baby and sweetie and all this shit. anyway, when I got off the phone with him after about an hour or so I was really not impressed but decided not to close the door on him because I had another positive to add to the smoking and Gucci shoes: he reads books.

anyway, long story short, we talked on the phone a few more times over the next few weeks and then last Saturday he asked if I wanted to do something. I was crusty but horny so I said yes (not that I was planning on sleeping with him but I thought at least I could get felt up or something). so we made plans to meet at this little lounge downtown at 10:30. When I hadn't left my house by 10:20, I sent him a text letting him know I was running late and would be there by 11 o'clock. no response. ok whatever. so I get there just before 11:00 and he's not there.

so I wait.
and wait.
and wait.

and by 1 o'clock when I left he still hadn't showed

(why did I wait so long for a guy I didn't even like? read on).

it's been eight days and the motherfucker still hasn't called.

he'd better be dead, that's all I have to say.

Anyway, the good news is that while I was waiting for this fucker to show up last Saturday, a certain boy that I've been crushing on for some time came to chat with me. oh we had a lovely time, talked a bit, he bought me a drink (practically unheard of in this city), and I think may have even flirted a bit. so I went home and sent him an email, to which he responded within 12 hours. impressive.

in his response he asked me if I wanted to grab a bite with him that week. so I said "sounds good. let me know when". So he suggests Tuesday. I say okay, what time?
and wait.
and wait.
and wait for a response.

Tuesday morning I get an email saying he's not feeling well and can we do it Wednesday instead? I say okay, what time?

and wait.
and wait.
and wait for a response,

which doesn't come until FRIDAY. yes, that's right I said Friday. He emailed me Friday morning apologizing for "being incognegro" because he was sick. He suggests we do it on Monday instead (that would be tomorrow). he tells me he needs my number. so I reply and send my number.

and wait.
and wait.
and wait for a call.

that was Friday. it's Sunday. tomorrow is Monday.
have I heard from him? that would be a hell's fuckin' no

this story hasn't ended yet, but I think we all know where it's going....

say it with me folks!
and then.
and THEN

AND THEN HE NEVER CALLED ME!

the one i never wanted to write

it is with great sadness that i tell today's tale. it is a tale of hopes dashed, expectations sorely unmet, pedestals crashing, and - to put it bluntly - it's a tale of another so-called man of principle biting the fucking dust.
on with it then:

so i have a friend, let's call him Neil (anyone who can tell me why i'm choosing Neil of all names will win a prize). I've been friends with Neil for a really long time and i think i've been kind of sweet on him for most of the time i've known him, although i never really admitted it to myself because i saw it as completely hopeless. so time goes by and i'm dating one ignorant asshole after another (see previous posts) while Neil has a series of long relationships with girls that i could never quite bring myself to like for some strange reason...

anyway, although at one time neil and i were like batty and bench, spending an obscene amount of time together being "pretend girlfriend-boyfriend" and talking on the phone for hours, once we both moved to Toronto things kind of fell off and we spent less time together; but whenever we hung out it was as if no time at all had passed. so i still considered him a good friend, even though we didn't see each other so often anymore.

so out of the blue one day about a month or so ago, neil and i decided to meet up at this place on college street. we had a lovely time catching up and talking, and spent a really long time talking about my current unrelationship and how miserable it was and how it was beating the life out of me. neil gave me his little puppy dog "why do you allow yourself to be treated like this?" look which always makes me wish i could find a man as nice as him.

HA.

so two weeks ago a mutual friend of ours got married in london and neil was in the wedding party. he looked good in his tux, it pains me to admit. but i was looking quite fetching myself in my Marciano gold studded halter dress (love that dress!). anyway at the reception neil is being very flirty with me; adjusting my stick-on bra and rubbing my back under my shawl, shit like that. and i was enjoying it, don't get me wrong. so when the stars aligned in such a way so as to lead neil and me to a deserted hallway, i went willingly.

so, being neil, he did not use the obvious combo of private hallway and romantic setting to have his way with me, no sir. instead he used the time to talk about how he'd planned to have his way with me.

which lead to a big discussion about whether it was a good idea for us to "get it on".

all i wanted to know was whether we were talking about just getting it on or if it was "getting it on and more. like, with feelings". he said "more...like with feelings".

so the discussion went on so long that the reception ended and my sister was waiting in the car calling me every five minutes before we could decide anything, but we did kiss as we were walking back (who kissed whom is still up for debate, or would be if i ever wanted to speak to this guy again, so i'll leave it at "we kissed") and he told me he would call me the next day at my parents' house. by the time i left to go back to toronto i hadn't heard from him, so i decided to be a big girl and send him an email a few days later. he wrote me back and apologized for not calling and said "I started thinking that I was one of those "...and then he never called me again" stories".

we made plans to get together on wednesday night, so i lied to the unboyfriend and off i went for more discussion about whether we should get it on. i offered the suggestion that we just get it on and clean up the messes afterward but that was a no go.

anyway, after much talking i decided i was cool to give it a try, but my boy neil wasn't quite there yet. in fact he had gone in the complete opposite direction but couldn't come out and say it so i got to be the one to say to him, "i think you don't want to do this and you just don't want to say it", at which point he finally admitted that no, he didn't want a relationship.

i was livid.

who fucking pulls this shit on their friend? why the hell are you sniffing around acting like you want to get with me when you know you don't want a relationship? that type of behaviour is despicable when you do it to some skank you met in a club but when you do it to a friend. sooo unacceptable! so i expressed some, but not all, of my displeasure and he assured me that he still wanted to be friends....

i swear, if men knew how fucking un-original they are
they would be so ashamed

he told me he would call me on Friday.
and then
and THEN
AND THEN HE NEVER CALLED ME

Update: it's been almost two years. And he STILL hasn't called me.

cheap bastard

another one of my favourites.
so one day i was put on the spot by this guy i knew who asked me on a date. i sooo did not want to go out with this guy for the following reasons:
1. he was short
2. he had a rat face
3. i kinda thought he was a girl when i first met him
4. he had glasses (i have nothing against glasses really, i wear them myself. but they were not a good look for this guy, trust me)
5. he had kind of a weird name that i would sooo love to post on here but i guess i can't
6. he had no car

anyway like i said he put me on the spot so i had no choice but to say yes. so he calls me up one evening and asks me if i want to go out. so i say yes, grudgingly. then he asks me if i can pick him up. now there are big huge alarm bells going off in my head saying DANGER! DANGER! but oh well, i don't want to discriminate against this guy just because he has no car so okay i say i'll pick him up.

so when i get to his work to pick him up and he gets in the car, he has no idea where he wants to go.
this is UNACCEPTABLE to me.
first of all, didn't you have plenty of time to think about it while your pedestrian ass was sitting here waiting for me to pick you up? secondly, why the fuck did you ask me out if there's nothing you want to do with me? i am sooo not feeling this guy at all but i already got up, got dressed, and burned off my gas to get here so i guess i might as well go along with it.

so at some point during my silent tirade, buddy comes up with the brilliant idea that we should go down to the lakeshore. keep in mind folks that it's around 7 o'clock in the evening in July. do you know what that means?? it means fucking mosquitoes. but i guess it also means "cheap date" to this guy's broke ass, because if you think this guy at least took (and i use the term loosely because with no car this guy isn't really taking me anywhere) me to a restaurant or even an ice cream truck down there? hell no! this guys takes me to sit on a bench. nice.

so here's a snippet of the scintillating conversation:

Buddy: "So do you like basketball?"
Me: "No i don't really like sports" (this isn't true by the way but i was just so HATING this guy at this point)
Buddy: "So do you like football?"
Me: "No i don't really like sports"
Buddy: "So do you like volleyball?"
Me: "No i don't really like sports"

okay. you get the picture.

So after what feels like ten hundred hours of this, i tell buddy that i want to go to tim horton's (i love me some tim horton's!) so we get in the car and drive to tim's. we get in line and when we get to the counter, i order a large tea (which at that time cost $1 plus GST - cheap date huh?) and this guy orders an extra large hot chocolate. So i take out my wallet to pay for my tea and not only does this asshole not stop me, he makes no move to pay for his expensive ass beverage.

now let me just interject to say that i have no problem paying my own way on a date. hey if i can't afford a tea at tim's i need to stay my ass home. but since i had to drive and pick this guy up, i feel like i've already spent enough on this date that i didn't even want to go on, so

maybe you could kick something in besides your scintillating conversation?

guess not.

so we're walking away from the counter and all of a sudden buddy turns to me and says "i never pay to get into clubs. i have never paid to get into a club in my life. i can't understand people who pay to get into clubs"okay first of all, what the hell are you talking about? how did we get from volleyball to this? secondly, being too cheap to pay $10 to get into a party that cost a promoter $5000 to put on does not make you cool. it makes you pathetic. and thirdly, since you're saving so much goddamn money by not paying to get into clubs, do you think maybe you could hit me off with a little gas money or at least pay for your own goddamn hot chocolate?!?

anyway.

so he asks me to drop him off at the subway station. which i do. he gets out of the car with neither a good bye nor a thank you and...
and...
AND THEN HE NEVER CALLED ME AGAIN!!!!!!!

hit me with some hallway love

so i went on a date once with this guy i met in the footlocker in eaton centre.

can't remember his name, so for this post we'll call him "hallway".

you'll see why in a second...

so the guy comes to pick me up to take me out and when i go to get in the front seat of the car, there's a little boy sitting there. nobody knows who this boy is (or why at approximately five years of age he is sitting in the front seat of the car) because hallway doesn't say a word to me about it and i'm too stunned to ask.

so i climb in the back seat and hallway starts driving. we drive for about a half hour or so during which time neither hallway nor what i can only assume is hallway junior says a word to me. finally we arrive at a house and hallway and hallway the remix get out of the car and go inside...still no one is saying anything to me. so i stay where i am in the back seat until hallway returns about 20 minutes later. he looks over his shoulder at me and says "why don't you get in the front?"

okay then.

so i get in the front and we go on our date which i cannot remember anything about. he drives me home (i got to sit in the front the whole way!!) and then walks me to my door.

so we're standing in the hallway outside of my apartment and he kisses mei wish i could tell you it was a good kiss but i don't remember it at all...so we're kissing for a bit and then i say i have to go inside and i turn around to put my key in the door. next thing i know this guy is all pressed up against my back and i can feel a bit of pressure in my down there area so i turn around to see what's happening and here is this guy standing there with a pleading look in his eyes and a one eyed snake poking out of the fly of his jeans trying to fuck me in my hallway!

is this guy for real???

why am i gonna fuck you in my hallway? am i a hooker?

so anyway i'm like yeah this is so not happening so you can just put that away and try not to cut yourself on your zipper on its way back in.

i went inside and told my sister the story of my disastrous date and resolved never to go out with this asshole again. but apparently the decision was made for me because the guy NEVER CALLED ME AGAIN!

welcome (original post Monday, July 24, 2006)

hello everyone and welcome to my blog!
for years now many people have encouraged me to share my story with the masses and at long last i have taken the plunge.

this is the official "and then he never called me" blog.

i have a million stories of dates, relationships, romantic encounters, extremely hot flirtation sessions, and one-night stands that all have the same ending: and then he never called me again...(well for the one night stands i guess that's acceptable but the rest of these guys are fucking assholes).some of them are funny, some of them are tragic, and some you will think cannot possibly be true...

unfortunately they are true and here's hoping they make you feel better about your own dating stories. they can't be any worse than mine.thanks for visiting...

Does recycling a blog count as living green?

So I've been on a hiatus from men. If you read this blog in its previous incarnation you can understand why. But I've been dipping my toe in the dating pool lately and of course it has resulted in more stories for your reading enjoyment. So welcome me back to the dating blogosphere and enjoy the misery.