Exasperation Exist at the End of EXIF Extraction
Five days ago I realized (thank you EXIF metadata) the portraiture she gave me at 26th June when she tried to cheer me up (due to morale erm… devaluation) was taken with [his] new Finnish toy (Nokia N76) during their 4th year anniversary on 21st June.
And she was wearing the fucking hot, red hot (that hot) Hard Rock Cafe Edinburgh top I bought for her last birthday! Now I feel piss-off — for the lack of a better word, on the account of some nonsensical personal resentment.
The fact that that picture was taken during their get together (a 4th year anniversary no less) wasn’t meant for me, it’s meant for [his] keeping. Those smile wasn’t for me to cheer me up the last six night.
Fuck polyamory relationship.
The only answer you reply to my question “where it was taken” was “after you did your hair”. Yet that under a hundred quid worth of hair dressing was week earlier before you met [him]. Indeed the time line of ‘after’ is ambiguous but why can’t you just say it’s during THAT date?
I’m not going to get mad. Just piss-off :)
After watching Jarhead (2005) last night, I concluded it’s solely responsible for the visceral outburst of this carnal dissatisfaction. On the movie notes, it’s more like Full Metal Jacket (1987) in Iraq instead of Vietnam. The scene where protagonist Swofford came back to watch the home-made pornography in the TV room after the commotion that the video is actually made by one of the marine’s wife as an act of vendetta. The video being played and given to the now broken-hearted marine as a movie video from home, only it was cut into the raunchy doggie-style with his neighbour friend.
Troy: What are you doing?
Swofford: I’m waiting for you to leave so I can watch it again.
Troy: Why do you want to watch it again?
Swofford: I want to watch it again.
Swofford: I want to see what it’s like to watch somebody else fuck your girlfriend.
Troy: [Sighing] Come on. Get your shit. Come on, we’re going back.
Swofford here have the immature insecurities of her girlfriend, Jody fucking her new-found friend, Tony at the hotel she works at. His own litany of ennui, emasculates him to the perfection of masturbation handiness.
Swofford: Suggested techniques for the marine to use in the avoidance of boredom and loneliness: Masturbation. Rereading of letters from unfaithful wives and girlfriends. Cleaning your rifle. Further masturbation. Rewiring Walkman. Arguing about religion and meaning of life. Discussing in detail, every woman the marine has ever fucked. Debating differences, such as Cuban versus Mexican, Harleys versus Hondas, left- vs. right-handed masturbation. Further cleaning of rifle. Studying of Filipino mail-order bride catalogue. Further masturbation. Planning of marine’s first meal on return home. Imagining what a marine’s girlfriend and her man Jody are doing in the hey, or in the alley, or in a hotel bed.
Tony did Jody; just as I did her in a sense, and to [his] knowledge (after a few month later).
So why I’m the one who’s getting this insecurity when she hardly have the guilty trip spending time with two guys who acknowledge and spiteful at each other?
I want to see what it’s like to watch somebody else fuck your girlfriend.
I don’t have to, when I’m that “somebody else”.
I thought she’s kidding me for getting that haircut. The result is quite tantalising at [his] own expense. I called it Harajuku’s lolita and [he] called it anime-like. We’re almost at the same wave-length except he needs to cut down those narutard and bleach-detergent anime consumption. It’s bad when people asked for “real-world outlook” you come out with otaku references.
I’m japanophile too, but with less anime-complex like [him].
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