Stupid Is As Stupid Does: 15 Years Of Abject Stupidity And How I’m Overcoming It

stupid-is-as-stupid-does

On the May 25, 1998 episode of WWF Monday Night Raw, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, during a segment that featured the arrest of WWF chairman Vince McMahon, began his promo with one of my favorite lines of all time from a wrestling program:

“I hope you’re proud of yourself, because what you’ve done is prove, without a shadow of a doubt, you are the world’s dumbest son of a bitch…”

While that tickled me to no end 21 years ago, it now hits a little too close to home because, since the summer of 2005, I have lived the description to the fullest.

Honestly, I don’t know how I am still alive today, other than abject stupidity isn’t fatal in it’s simplest form. It can easily lead to death, but on it’s own, it’s mostly harmless. I haven’t been stupid enough to walk in front of a moving train or jump down an elevator shaft from the 17th story of a large building or set myself on fire or anything.

But my involvement, with every woman I have met from June 2005 to July 2019, represents a level of utter stupidity I never thought I would ever come close to reaching. And in most of those cases, the clues were all there that a bad ending would eventually work its way into the story, yet I continued to get involved in situations I shouldn’t have.

From the borderline-retarded moron that lived three hours away from me (2005) to the morbidly obese older woman (2006-09) to the verified prostitute (2010-17) to the girl who ghosted me (2018) to the 6’2”, 330 pound female mountain (2019) to the woman with the mustache (2019) it’s just been one horrible experience after another.

And the worst part is, I want to lash out, but what does that accomplish? I’m the God damn, blithering idiot here. I’m the one that allowed these things to happen.

Two of these cretins stole from me, the first was the legit moron in 2005 who lived in the most inbred hick town in West Virginia that looked like something right out of Deliverance. She didn’t take me for money, but took a large collection of vintage Ghostbusters toys I had collected in my youth because her bastard kid wanted them. So she took them.

The second, the buck-toothed prostitute I got involved with from 2010-17, stole thousands of dollars from me, including openly admitting to about $1,700 from my bank account. I had given her my debit card to pay for her heating oil and rather than, you know, paying for her heating oil, she blew through the $1,700 and was broke when the heating oil arrived. Her reason? It was my fault. I shouldn’t have trusted her with my money.

Or my sperm, but that’s a story for another day, I’m annoyed enough and I don’t want to get into my desire to see anyone with their skull crushed by a very large rock.

Because, again, every bad thing that has ever happened to me is my own fault.

Part of this is because I have no self control whatsoever and I get myself into situations I can’t get out of because I can’t say “no.” Let’s look at February 2019, for instance.

I went out with a woman who dwarfed me. And I’m not small guy; I’m 5’10” and about 240 pounds. This woman was at least four inches taller than me and easily 80 to 100 pounds bigger. I can’t tell you how disinterested I was in her. Yet before she left, there we were in my Jeep, kissing and groping. When she left, I sat there for about 15 minutes wondering what was wrong with me and why I had no common sense whatsoever.

The last woman I was “Facebook Official” with, in October 2018, was one of the smaller mistakes I made but it still shows my lack of basic common sense. She was a bum, had no desire to work and wanted a man to support her and her two kids after she got divorced. It was obvious. Yet I still walked into that situation in spite of everything and it’s not like I was madly in love with this woman. To be honest, I still don’t know her middle name.

Luckily, I walked away from that and never looked back in spite of four months of her begging to reconcile. My answer was “no” the first time and “no” the 500th time.

So why couldn’t I be like that all the time?

The last woman I talked to “romantically,” (the mustached one) I was involved with off and on for roughly four months. Within a week of our talking, one of my closest confidants (herself one of my previous mistakes in 2018) told me to tell the girl to fuck off. And boy, do I wish I had. It was just another colossal failure in a large number of colossal failures.

But luckily, the times may be a’changin’.

I’ve started making smart decisions, for the first time in 15 years. I began by unfriending most every woman on my Facebook and Instagram friends list who were even remotely potential relationships. Blocked a good many of them. I have walled myself in, surrounded with people I trust and that I don’t have to worry about in the future.

All of these women who were mistakes in the past have been cast off and blocked, with the exception of the one who has had those sins expunged and is now one of my closest confidants and most trustworthy friends. I may have made those mistakes before, but with my new blocking plan, I won’t be making those mistakes again.

Because two days ago, I almost did. Which is what brought me to this point.

I readded three women on Facebook I have had bad experiences with. One is a very unattractive woman who thinks because she is well-endowed (that means she has large breasts, for the uninitiated who may read this) that she is every man’s fantasy. She’s not. She’s hard to look at, unless she is flashing some cleavage and you don’t look at her actual face. The second was the mustached individual mentioned earlier, whom I wish I had never met but again, I can’t vouch for myself and my decisions. The third is a two-time divorcee and apparently rabid Liberal that everyone warned me not to get involved with.

I had unfriended all three of these creatures over the past 12 months, and in one day, for some reason, I sent all three friend requests and all three were accepted. I went to bed that night thinking I was doing something noble. I didn’t sleep and got up the next morning in a near panic attack wondering what in the blue hell I had been thinking last night.

I rectified those mistakes and am back in my “safe” zone, with these idiots outside the bounds of communication. And I have felt better ever since I made that choice.

This is why I will never, under any circumstances, get involved in a relationship again. If I’m in it, that means it’s awful and it’s going to end badly, but only after I have either lost tears or blood or money or my life. And no relationship is worth any of that.

The prostitute I was with for seven years even tried to get me arrested on a trumped-up charge that the sheriff’s office saw through pretty quickly. I have subsequently learned she still tries to use that as a basis for attention on Facebook without giving out any details. Of all these idiots I have dealt with, she is the one whose grave I will piss on one day. I wouldn’t lift a finger to hurt that worthless piece of garbage, but if she were on fire and I was holding an extinguisher, I’d throw it away and sit down and watch, with pleasure.

Since 2005, I have been involved in one way or another with 20 women, from going on dates to “talking” to full blown relationships to a ridiculous engagement that was just about as legitimate as her bastard kid she herself referred to as a “mistake.” And all 20 were absolute, complete and total mistakes. I would undo every single one of them if I could.

That is a horrible record for a guy who has no business getting involved again.

It’s gotten so bad I’m starting to get migraine headaches again. I thought I had ended that when I got away from the prostitute but now I think my hair is falling out again and I can’t sleep, and this time I have no one to blame but myself, and maybe I’ve never had anyone to blame but myself. My agreeing to get involved is what put me on this course.

As Forrest Gump said, “stupid is as stupid does,” and even though that was in 1994 he was clearly talking about me and clearly referring to my life from 2005-19.

But from here on out, that will change. And in 15 years I’ll look back and see how much enjoyment I’ve had and realize I could have had it all along, if I just had sense.

Thank you for reading, and God bless.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s