Looks like Deskie might be in love!
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About a week ago my Homegirl North Shore went down a rabbit hole of ratchet in Revere. It seemed like she picked at a herpe scab, starting with an ugly fight between junkie lesbians, that just wouldn’t stop bleeding. It even resulted in our first Turtleboy LIVE call in with Medford Pete.
One the ratchets that came out of the woodwork was Randy Hurley. He was a former addict who was friend-zoned by some skank named Sabrina.
Well, seems Randy was trying so hard to defend her honor he resorted to lying to North Shore about his connections with some big political figures. She got pretty tired of it quick and send him to everyone’s favorite ginger.
Deskie initially missed the message between dumping and trips to the gyno, but as soon as she saw her new friend in the inbox, she was smitten. Randy, by all accounts, is a nice guy. Creepy, not all there, but seems pretty sincere.
The thing with Deskie is that we have treated her so lousy that if anyone is nice to her, even a little, she clings on to them like a Garfield doll on a station wagon window. The abuse we give her makes her really good at her job. It also makes her kind of odd to deal with.
So, when Randy messaged her, asking for her by name, it was a match made in weirdo heaven.
He’s not thrown off by her brain injury or her weird description of her pussy orbs of fury! He actually giggles at them! WTAF?!
Lurid? More like putrid. I know you guys probably don’t remember the blog we wrote about Abi but she was straddling that poor dog and it looked like Scooby when he sees a ghost.
But while most people who encounter Desk Girl don’t know what to do/think… Randy was fascinated.
He actually wanted to know about the pustules. I also don’t think that Randy was hated enough for anyone to tell him to kill himself. He was just a dude trying to defend his friend.
Now, the weird thing with Randy’s screenshots of his threats… is that it’s a new message. It seems he wrote them himself. I’m kind of happy about that because I didn’t think that our Turtleriders would go full tilt on this dude.
Dude, you’re in love! Get her name right!
Only Deskie would be fucking weird enough to ask if someone’s late father was as delicious as her current man snack. What the frig Abi? Who DOES THAT?
And here is where I lost it. Finally, Abi has shared one of the pictures from the infamous lost blog about her. She edited it so you can’t see the dog suffocating on her Fupa, but here she is. In the flesh! Lazy eye and all!
And here is one of the greatest Freudian slips I’ve ever seen in my entire life…
There ya have it folks. The only person on the entire planet that has heard of the vaginal disorder that Abi claims to have. The one where lack of a good stuffing causes the polyps on her Sarlacc.
She’s so comfortable that she starts talking about the guy she’s been chasing for a decade. I’ve seen Cletus. He looks like Sloth from the Goonies. I’ve had nightmares thinking about what they would like if they procreated.
I have to say that this is the best filled out form I’ve ever seen. Around this time Abi had an IBS attack (which I think is just because she eats so much Taco Bell) and announced to the office that she had found the man of her dreams before running to the bathroom. North Shore and I exchanged a maniacal glare and ran over to the computer to see what happened. We couldn’t stop laughing and played a quick game of Rock Paper Scissors to see who was going to jump in. North Shore beat me.
While Abi was dumping, North Shore and I teamed up and switched around the inbox, placing the message Deskie was frantically looking for in the “done” folder.
We blocked Randy from her Facebook and email.
Abi came out of the office bathroom thirty minutes later fluttering around like a cracked-out butterfly, sat at her desk, and began to flip out. The message from her Randy was gone. She went from top of the world back to having to tickle her tuna sandwich over Cletus.
I know, I know! You guys think we are evil but if she falls in love and leaves us then we will have to answer all the messages from the ratchets on our own. We can’t have that happen. I just hope she doesn’t see this blog because we may get capped at work.