The Dick Daddy Chronicles

Vol. 1: Why I decided to take this hoe show on the road

We’re going to ease some of the new readers in and take it all the way back. The year was 2016, and I was freshly divorced. Just got a new job, finally making some money again, and Las Vegas was my oyster, or that’s what I thought at least. But even at 32, after an almost decade long relationship, I still wasn’t the casual dating kind. I still hoped I’d find someone to have a meaningful relationship with: a best friend, a confidant, a partner.

LMFAOooooooo.

If you’re at all interested in how that went, I suggest you familiarize yourself with the dating section of this blog. The gist of it goes like this: I dated an asshole who tormented me for years; I lost a few more years on a drunk felon who lived with his mom; I went out with a series of complete dipshits (NDA guy and Dr. Dickskin); then I wasted the rest of my time on a fake and a poser; finish that off with two years of complete solitude, and you’re all caught on my dating chronology.

I knew a long time ago that Las Vegas had nothing left for me in that aspect and so a huge factor in my decision to leave was motivated by my desire to see what else was out there and answer the age old question: are all men trash or is this a big city conundrum? I’d never dated people from anywhere else, coming to Vegas at the naive age of 18 and quickly falling into my niche of blue collar workers with felonies and alcohol abuse problems. So I wondered if it was, in fact, the city that breeds this fast and loose behavior where no one has feelings, nothing matters, and no one’s accountable to anyone else, most times even themselves. So I thought, maybe, just maybe, this is not a “man” problem. Maybe it is a location problem and changing my geography would change my luck.

So I’ve decided the only way for me to know is to go out and date. Not in every new city, but a girl can dream. Make the effort, play the game, and put myself back out into the world to find out what the geographical differences are between men in Las Vegas, men in the southwest, men in Alaska, men in Antarctica, etc. At first I was desperate for a new life and new opportunities, but now I realize I’m also desperate for some new dick. Yes, I’d still love to find love (again?) but years of disappointment have made me a realist, and I’d say me falling in love is about as likely as someone proving the world is flat. So if I’m going to be single, and if I’m going to get out there and be disappointed again, I’d much rather it be by a cowboy with a big dick in the Dakotas or some macho military fuck in Missoula. And let’s be honest: I know you guys want to know too.

So as I begin this process of right swiping my way through my roadtrip, I will detail every bit and report back to you guys in something I’d like to call the Dick Daddy Chronicles. I’m just trying it on for now, wearing it around to see how I like it. Got a better name for it? Any ideas or suggestions? Shoot me a message! Or if you have something snarky to say, save me the trouble and just go fuck yourself <3

xoxo, The Bitter Bitch