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Bottom-Dog Blues: B.Diehl’s Unedited Ramblings for the Alienated, Awkward, Broken, & Bored (ENTRY #10: WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DATE ME)

B. Diehl




Hi, friends. First off…sorry there was no entry last week. I got busy with life or something. But guess what?! I am chlamydia free now! Aw hell yeah. No more pissing lava. No more having to get fondled by a creepy doctor.

Even though I’ve been busy, nothing significant has happened. And other than the fact that I’m broke as shit and struggling to find a day job I can tolerate, I don’t have anything in particular I feel like complaining about.

After my last entry, I received a lot of positive feedback. A lot of people reached out to me and said things like, “You’re really ballsy for posting so much personal information online.” That was kinda nice –– and since people apparently like my transparency, I’m going to keep it going. With that last entry, I’ve pretty much ruined my chances of having sex with anyone who read it (which was honestly the point), so let me follow up now with a list of reasons why you should never date me, either! Yeah! Transparency!


For real. Being broke as balls means this: my version of “going on a date” is basically just hanging out in my bedroom with my cats and some books –– usually with a really bad Netflix movie playing for some background noise. Oh, and wandering around my town. (Like I’ve already mentioned in previous writings, I live in Phillipsburg, which isn’t exactly the romance capital of the world because it smells like literal shit.) Right now, the small amount of money I make from writing all goes to bills, gas, and cigarettes. And I do mean all of it. I can write you a mediocre love poem and attempt to “swoon” you with my bad jokes, but I definitely can’t afford to buy you a unicorn. If you’re a “gold-digger,” look elsewhere. My pockets are empty.


I may come off as a total misanthrope, but once I’m dating someone and giving them a chance, they pretty much become my top priority and main focus. If you don’t talk to me for a day, I’ll get all depressed and feel alienated.  I’ll feel distant from you. More than likely, this will cause you to feel guilty/stressed even though I want you to be happy. The fact that I’m making you guilty/stressed will then make me more upset, and once I’m more upset, I’ll become unreasonably paranoid that the relationship is falling apart. Once I’m paranoid, I’ll start acting insane and irrational. Starting arguments. Getting overly offended at little things. I’ll start scrambling around to fix something that was never broken in the first place. This will push you away a little (or a lot), which will make me act even more clingy and paranoid. If you don’t text me for 5 hours, I’ll assume you’re mad at me and I’ll start blowing up your phone. This will most likely continue until I’ve pushed you completely out of my life.

The fact that I’m an emotionally fucked Pisces doesn’t help. One of my biggest problems is that I want a fairytale romance. I want to do everything together. I want to stargaze and make love in the rain and do all kinds of crazy shit like that. If you’re an independent person and need a lot of personal space, I’m not the guy for you.


A big part of wanting a fairytale romance is…well…wanting to romanticize everything. 99% of the time, when you ask me to join you and some friends for a “hangout session” or whatever, I’ll be reluctant because I’m antisocial. In a perfect world, it would just be you and I against the world all the time because that is the most beautiful and poetic thing I can think of. A crowded room with 10 people talking at the same time is definitely not my setting. There is no intimacy or meaning in that. To me, that’s just a way of passing time –– and doing something for no other reason than to pass time just seems pointless and depressing. We probably won’t agree on this, and your friends will think I’m weird. Your friends will wonder why I never seem to be interested in anything they have to say. Well, here’s the answer: small talk bores me to death. I don’t really want to hear about your friend Jimmy’s promotion at work or your friend Jaquish’s latest bowel movement. I don’t want to talk about the weather. I want to talk about art and books and existentialism and the human condition and the philosophy of dying alone. Your friends won’t understand me. Once they start looking at me weird, I’ll go on the defensive and silently insult their intelligence.


I will drive you insane with this. Every person I’ve ever dated has said I’m “the most affectionate person they’ve ever met.” If I love you, or even just like you a lot, that means I want to kiss you every 5 seconds. This will be extra awful for you if you have a problem with public affection…because I do this everywhere. Have you ever seen two people passionately kissing in the checkout lane at Wal-Mart? One of those people was probably me. And you probably laughed or cringed. And I probably didn’t give a fuck because I was blissfully lost in my Pisces dreamland.

Oh, it gets worse, too: I may have said goodbye to loveless sex, but one thing that won’t change anytime soon is that once I’m in a relationship, my self-control is nonexistent. I have a higher-than-average sex drive. I am going to jump on you at random times. You’re going to receive mildly perverted text messages from me at 2:00 in the morning. (No unsolicited pictures of my penis, though. That’s where I draw the line.)

Don’t let my quietness fool you. I may not talk a lot, but the quiet ones are usually the most obnoxious and freakiest in bed. This is a real thing. Look it up. (Fuck beds, though. I don’t need a bed. I will fuck you against a tree in broad daylight because why not?) It’s totally cool if your sex drive isn’t overactive like mine, but if you tell me you aren’t in the mood, I’ll probably still hump your leg at least once because I’m immature and I think that’s funny.

Bottom line: I am absolutely out of my mind. If you’re interested in me, do yourself a favor and continue admiring me from afar. Don’t engage. We both know it will probably just end with me becoming your “crazy ex-boyfriend.”

B. Diehl co-authored of the poetry chapbook Temporary Obscurity (Indigent Press, 2015) with Charles Joseph. He is also the sole writer of the full-length poetry collection Zeller’s Alley (White Gorilla Press, 2016). When he is not writing, you can usually find him at home, hanging out with his cats and/or feeding his social media addiction. He still lives with his parents.

You can find him on the web at www.mynameisb.net.