RANT: ASSHOLE BOYFRIENDS

. . return to rants menu . . . . .

--- rant editing began at 5:21pm on 2007.10.26

This will also apply to asshole fiancees and husbands.  More and more lately I am running into these great women who have fucking prick boyfriends or husbands or whatever. This girl at work has a really good voice.  I asked her if she wanted to come audition to sing for our musical project.  She said, and I quote "my fiancee wouldn't like that very much."  I let it go there.  Later I told her that I have a girlfriend and it wasn't a pickup line, I seriously am looking for a vocalist.  Female or Male, even.  But if she has a good voice and a desire to make music, why not?  And she proceeded to tell me that he doesn't even like it when she visits FRIENDS from childhood.  FEMALE FRIENDS.  And she married him a few months after that conversation. 

That's the same story over and over.  One girl sent me an audio file of her singing and I told her she sounded great.  I asked if she wanted to come see if she could sing in person in front of me and beth and she told me her boyfriend didn't want her to.  I asked why and she said she didn't know, just that he said he didn't want her to sing on anything i was doing and that he would rather if she DIDN'T TALK TO US ANYMORE.  And, as you might guess, she actually quit talking to myself or beth.  It was pretty fucking irritating.

Why do you ladies put up with these pieces of shit?  You know what Beth would do if I told her she couldn't do totally innocent shit like that?   Much less much else?  I mean jesus.  It would be over in a big hurry.  Why?  Because she understands how it should work.  You make someone your fucking slave and you might as well kill yourself.

I hate to say it, but I guess if they're stupid enough to let themselves be in a situation like that they deserve to be miserable.  Yeah, he may have his good moments and may make you happy at times.  Whatever.  Your fucking lives.

--- rant editing ended at 5:38pm on 2007.10.26

. . return to rants menu . . . . .