This is my journal entry from December 27, 2025 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
Y'all aren't gonna believe this shit, but I had a fucking date today with a girl off Hinge. You're like, hold the fuck on, Jerry. You literally had no matches last night. What happened? Well, I woke up to a new match and a message this morning. Like, you fucking shitting me? Like, I changed my profile to be toxic as fuck to just fuck off and make jokes and seriously? That worked? Absolutely it did. This Muslim girl in Tampa matched me when I told her that I sent her some toxic comment about her profile saying that I don't know if she really wants honesty or not. It was criticism. Constructive feedback. At 3 in the morning, she matches me and sends me a message. I wake up at 7. I'm like, I don't even know what this notification is. Like, this is a match on Hinge? I think I had one, and I respond to it with a long-ass paragraph because she had these short-ass answers on her profile, and she wanted honesty, but I'm like, you can't handle the truth. So I give her most of the truth. But this girl doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't do drugs or cannabis, which I'm like, awesome. And she wants kids. She's 38. I'm like, let's go. But she's a Muslim. So she's got the traditional outfit on. I can't fucking see anything except her face. Can't get any idea of what her body's like. And then I'm messaging her and she wants to meet up like today. I'm like, God damn. All right. Well, fuck. I'm not doing anything this afternoon. Let's go.
But let me slow down just a little bit. My ex-wife and the kids were out of town this morning, so I went down to check on the dogs. And then I got ready to take all my shit to my gym. I actually slept in a little bit today to like 8, maybe 7.30. Ah, fuck it. I got up at 7, but I turned the alarm off, still got up at 7. I was messaging and looking on the dating apps. I can't believe this shit actually worked. It's so ridiculous. You need to provoke an emotional reaction out of a woman. My new dating book will be coming out with this advice in it. I'm looking forward to having lots more evidence that it works. I guess I need to screenshot some of this shit too so I can remember it.
Anyway, I go to my gym today and bring my table there like 15 minutes late. There's a nice spot right by the door. So people have to see my fucking shitty books. And I sit down, throw all my books across the table, get on my laptop and start editing. Then like nothing happens for the first hour, but I'm editing this shit out of my sixth diary book, which I still don't have a name for. This motherfucker is going to be 150,000 words. So giddy up. I'm about 30,000 words into it by the time I finish at the gym.
Meanwhile, another girl matches with me on Bumble this time after I edited my profile. Like I explained yesterday, I'm like, are you fucking serious? Like I can't, you can't just be a straight up regular nice person who lays things out logically. You got to talk shit and provoke an emotional reaction out of a woman. And this girl within like an hour or two of matching me, we have a date set up for tomorrow at 12.30 at a sushi place. I'm like, God damn, this girl's an attractive woman who has kids and is not sure if she wants more kids. So basically if she likes me, maybe we can have some kids. That's how it'll go.
I sell two people my books. I update my signs. Before, I had all the books I was giving away for free, then I was just selling the books two for 20. I'm like, fuck it, let's put it together. So I got first book free, and then below that it says two for 20. One woman comes up who's attractive, and she has teenage kids. She's probably like 10 years older than me. And I'm like, this bitch is hot. She actually buys two books and then does something I didn't think of. She takes the third one also. I was kind of thinking if you got the first one free, maybe you'd pay two for 20, but she's like, nope, getting my money's worth on this. She sends me $20 over Venmo and leaves with three of my books. She takes Author in St. Petersburg, The Kind Divorce, and I Was Famous on the Internet. I'm like, let's fucking go. Thanks a lot. Great job. You just made my day. Handing someone my books and watching it make their day reminds me why I do this, and if my work speaks to you, I'd love for you to join the Jerry Banfield Family.
I end up hanging out at my fucking desk for a while longer and editing. And a guy comes up this time and he buys two books on a credit card. And I convince him to take a third one because the woman before took two. So he can fucking take, you know, his two plus another one. He tries to pay, but I'm like, fuck it. He takes Officer Banfield in addition to Author in St. Petersburg, and The Unpolished Truth, Living Alone Again. It's so interesting to see which books people take. I try and tell him that Living Alone Again skips ahead of Author in St. Petersburg, but he's not interested. He just wants to get straight to the living alone. And I'm so grateful. That's four books I sold, $40 I made today, six books, plus I give a couple others out for free, like eight books that go out. The $40 actually makes me a profit or breaks even on all the books I gave out. And those books all have letters in them promoting my other books and my book writing services. Plus, I did a shitload of editing, got to look at a ton of hot girls, exchanged smiles with some of them. And then I packed my shit up a little after one o'clock, put it all back in the car, drove it home, then went back to my gym and did a little high intensity training workout on my own. Some of the same stuff I did in the class.
At this point, I reflect how one of the girls yesterday, I messaged like five or six girls to go out yesterday. None of them responded except one by the end of the day. And the one who responded actually shows up at the gym. And I tell her that I messaged like five girls and she was the only one that said yes and had the decency to respond, and she can't wait to get away from my table as soon as possible. Then this other girl fucking leaves a like. I said, hey, it was nice seeing you, blah, blah, blah, the other night. I enjoyed the few times we talked and would like to get to know you better. Would you like to go for a walk on Crescent Lake Park sometime this week? This girl in the middle of the night leaves a fucking like on my message. I'm like, what am I supposed to do with that shit? All right. What am I supposed to do with that? Does that mean I should take it that, yes, you do want to go for a walk? I'm like, no, you know what? I'm not going to fucking follow up. All you can do is drop a goddamn like? At least she acknowledged it and didn't fucking shit on it or say no. But I'm like, you know what? That's actually kind of clever. But yeah, I ain't inviting you for a walk acting like that. Fuck it.
I also book a tour at a co-working space downtown, as I'm looking to have a venue where I can schedule my little event that, of course, nobody bought a ticket to today because I just put it up and didn't promote it at all. After that, I then pile in the car and get ready to head over to a mall in Tampa. When this Muslim girl on Hinge asked me to meet her in person, I told her, I'm like, shit, why don't you come to Crescent Lake Park at 2 p.m. for a walk? She said she didn't initially know what to do with that, but I told her, look, women always are saying on these profiles that they want clarity, although sometimes what people ask for and what they actually fucking want are two different things. So I told her, like, I just give her specific plans. Like, I thought, what would be convenient for me? I'm like, if she'd come to Crescent Lake Park, she can do all the driving, take a walk, that'll be fine with me. Apparently, she's working, so she asked if we can meet at the mall later.
And it's funny, because later she tells me she fucking showered and washed her hair. But she's wearing one of those traditional Muslim outfits, which maybe is called a burqa. I don't know what the fuck it's called. But where everything but her face and her hands are covered. I'm literally checking out her hands and her face. Like, I wonder what the rest of her is like. I'm like, this shit's actually kind of intriguing, because you really want to explore what's under there, because it's hidden. It's kind of the opposite of that lustful energy when a girl walks into the gym in a sports bra and a pair of underwear on, where you can see everything, and it ironically promotes less of a desire to really get to know anything else about her.
Dude, I'm like the hot girls can get away with so much shit. It's disgusting. And these hot girls are going around getting away with crazy amounts of shit. And I think the best way to get a hot girl is to be the kind of guy that doesn't let them get away with shit, because that's what they really want. I mean, a lot of these hot girls just are desperate to find a guy that doesn't let them just get away with everything because they're attractive. I'm like, okay, great, you're attractive. And I'm fucking smart as hell. But because I'm smart as hell doesn't mean I can just do whatever the fuck I want. And just because you're hot doesn't mean you can do whatever the fuck you want either.
So I meet this girl up at the mall. I suggested meeting in front of a store because it's right next to the food court. It's central in the mall. And for some reason, I'm paranoid about this, because she was so enthusiastic to meet me. Like, seriously, you literally matched me at three in the morning and within 12 hours, you're fucking meeting me in person. Is this normal? Like, is this what y'all are doing today? Because back in the day, we used to take like a week or two to fucking exchange messages before we meet up. But I guess, shit. She's ready to go right now. She's 38. She didn't have any time to fuck around. She's ready to have some kids. Let's get at it.
So she meets me up by the food court. I actually fucking walked by her because she's in a burqa, and like in this full, you know, apparently the dress is traditional in Christianity as well. Like this is what Mary would have actually worn back in the day that all this shit's written about in Christianity, which I know a little about, she later told me. But I literally walked right by her because she wasn't standing directly in front of the store, which is where the fuck I told her to meet. She texts me like five times saying I walked past her. So I turn around, and I'm like, okay, she's actually a little cute. And she seemed nice. But I'm like, good, there's promise here. And fuck me, it was awkward. Like when I met up with her.
It was so awkward. Just finding a place to sit. She wanted to get something to drink. I'm not getting shit to drink because I'm not having some sugar drink. That's like smoking five cigarettes or something like that for the insides of my body. Like, I don't need a cigarette drink. I'm good. So she gets a juice. And, you know, boy, I'm not paying for shit because I'm not fucking having anything. But she pays for a drink. You know, I'm watching what she's going to tip, too. She tipped 0%. I'm like, come on. Really? I mean, maybe they didn't have tips in the country she came from, because she's legitimately from a Middle Eastern country. Like, she lived there for most of her life. She's only been over here a little while. She tips nothing. I'm like, that's not a good first look. Let me tell you that shit. The drink was like $5. You can't add a fucking dollar? I would have put at least a $2 tip on a fucking $5 drink because look at these people working there. It's just fucking cheap not to. I mean, Christ, if you're pinching pennies that bad, you're poor in the first place and you shouldn't be buying a goddamn drink at the fucking mall with somebody. I digress. This girl is really nice too.
We sit down and she's like mumbling, whispering, like wringing her hands. It's funny because she's like nervous and I'm like not nervous at all. Like this bitch is making me nervous because I'm empathic. I'm not nervous at all because I'm figuring like there's 0% chance. There's 0% chance that I'm going to be like into her, into a literal Muslim girl who covered her fucking body up. Like there's literally no chance I'm going to be into her. But the nice thing is I'm figuring this is just practice. Like your boy needs to practice going out on dates. And it's easier to take practice swings when, you know, it's easier to practice your free throws and your three-pointers when you're not playing a fucking game. So I'm totally looking at this date as practice. Like, I'm just going to practice this date and practice being the kind of man I want to be on the date. And I want to definitely lead more on a future date because she was, like, pointing out tables and shit. And she looks all over for fucking tables, and I'm looking. She sits down at this table. And there's like all these tables of two lined up for more space. So you're like sitting right next to other people, but there was a space or two between us. I've started treating the hard moments as practice at becoming the man I want to be, and if you're growing in that same direction, come grow with us in the Family.
So she gets into some small talk and shit first, like where she's from. I tell her I write books. She's like, am I going to be in a book? I'm like, well, maybe if you make some interesting material, you'll be in a fucking book. So congrats, your girl's in the book. But at this point, everybody's in my fucking books that I come across. So I don't know if it's anything to be special. But yeah, if you go out with me, you're going to be in a book. I won't mention your name. Unless, you know, you're going to be like a part of my life or something. And it's not going to make you look too bad. But yeah, you're in the book.
So then I'm like, all right, this time to test out what I've been meaning to test out. Because on the last date I went on with a woman I went out with, who, by the way, didn't text me back, which totally makes sense, it makes things easier, I realized I should have been honest and direct about what I was really looking for so much earlier in the date instead of dancing around it. So I'm like, all right, I'm just dying with curiosity. Like how are Muslim girls with courtship and all that? Cause I don't know shit about that. So I asked her about it at this table, you know, as polite as I can.
But you're probably listening to this in your home. God forbid this is being played in like a fucking football stadium or something and everybody's listening to this and worshiping me 2,000 years later and celebrating my goddamn birthday six months after I was fucking born for no good reason because I've been dead for 2,000 years. Nobody should give a shit about me anymore unless somebody made a fucking story up about how great I was and then convinced a bunch of people to believe that you should worship some guy that's been dead since before you were born. Seriously? All right. It's definitely a nice little side tangent. I can see all the Christian girls on the apps saying you must love Jesus fucking putting my book in a fire right now and burning that shit like it's fucking Germany in 1939. I mean, maybe 35, 36. They did a lot of book burnings. I don't know if they're still burning books in 39, but you know, they burned a lot of books there.
So this girl's awkward as hell. And these other two sit down to like not right next to us, but the seat next to us. So they're close. And meanwhile, I just asked this girl to tell me about how Muslims court. And she wants to talk privately, but she don't want to talk here. So she gets up with her drink, which she manages to spill some through the top. Somehow it fucking leaked. And then we walk around kind of aimlessly over to a luxury store. I'm like, don't be getting any ideas. I'm like, shit, we just stand here and talk right next to this column. She's like, next to the trash can? I'm like, I don't give a fuck. I'm not swearing much because it seems like she doesn't swear much either. And I can really adapt my language to any situation. It's just a processing filter. But to me, what feels most raw and authentic is how I'm fucking talking right now. So there it is. We walk back over to the food court and she picks a different spot to sit down. Plus she's talking so quietly. I have to like lean in close and ask her what she said several times. She doesn't understand my white-looking Black self either very clearly. So we have a hard time communicating for the beginning of it.
But then thankfully after talking for like 20 minutes, she gulped down the rest of this drink she got that she didn't tip for, so then we walk outside, I'm like, let's go outside, and I spot a couch over by this outdoor furniture store, like, this is perfect, I'll actually be able to hear her, we can have a real conversation, and things go well. So I point over to the couch, she's resistant, I tell her, let's go sit there, she has no better idea, so she concedes and goes to sit there. I'm like, I cannot date this girl. She is way too independently minded. I want a woman that'll follow some goddamn instructions, not debate every fucking thing. So we sit on the couch and the chemistry gets a lot better. She starts talking to me about Muslim dating because I'm like, all right, look, here's how the dating flow goes, at least with most of the people I've been out with. It's like, okay, first or second date, you talk to each other, physical contact, maybe make out by the second date. You get to know each other, you build physical and emotional connection over a few dates, and if we like it, maybe we'll move in, get married, have kids. Like, to me, that's the basic workflow. But ideally, you should at least meet somebody a couple of times before you get physical, because maybe they're just having a good day the first time. And I asked, you know, how's it go for Muslims or for you? Like, tell me about that.
So her idea is, you know, she wants to wait to get physical until she's definitely really attracted to the person. Like, that makes sense. She says she has an ex-husband already, so clearly she's done some of that already. And I ask her more questions. I'm like, okay, I got to ask this too. And I feel really proud that I did this today because this was, I'm like, this is what you need to practice. You need to practice asking what the fuck you really want to ask and not just being there and asking superficial shit, but asking the questions you want to ask. So her idea makes sense, but how physical are we talking? Like holding hands and making out, or where are we going with this? And I told her, I'm like, I'm not talking about when you're first dating or any of that shit. I'm talking about like being married, like a decade down the road. And she's like, well, my general outlook is that my husband, if he's going to be loyal to me and commit to me, which I would expect, then I would be there for him. She's like, now, you know, if I was tired or something, maybe I might say no here and there, but I generally would, you know, be available for him. And honestly, that moved me. That idea of mutual devotion and commitment was the most attractive thing she said. Hearing what real mutual devotion sounds like genuinely moved me, and if you're trying to figure out what you actually want in a relationship, I'd be glad to talk it through on a private Zoom call.
I really got her activated emotionally when she asked me what I believed in, because it was obvious she was fucking Muslim. And it was not obvious about what was happening with me. So I told her that I'm God. Like there's no separation between me and the creator. Like I am literally God and so is everybody else. This is my fucking reality. This is my reality. I'm creating it. I even create the idea of God. Like that's who I am. I don't need a God to explain shit. I'm creating this literally right now. And I told her I remembered choosing my parents. I remembered not having one of these bodies and deciding to come here. And she starts to fucking, I can see neurons blowing out in her brain and stuff, like the processor overclocking. And she begins to wind up. So she gets going. She tells me all about what it means to be Muslim, and she talks a lot about Christianity and Jesus, too. She said Jesus is mentioned more in the Quran than Muhammad is, which I'm like, let me look that shit up, because I feel like Muhammad's a pretty big deal in Islam, so I'm kind of confused as to why Jesus would be getting more press time in the Quran than Muhammad, but she tells me about stories from her life and experiences from the Quran that helped her, and she starts getting emotional, too. I'm like, check. All right, we've done well here. On a date with a woman, to me, the basic barometer is can you get her to tap into her emotion and to feel something? Because if so, then you're going to connect.
Well, I'm totally going in on my idea that I'm God, and I absolutely am completely unswayed and unmoved by any of her shit about the Quran or Islam, being Muslim, and I totally, you know, rip apart every argument she puts out and just like, it's nothing to me. Like I've already thought of all this shit. She's like, talks about the past and infinite regressions and shit. I'm like, all there is, is now. The past is an idea, and I am literally creating this right fucking now. And I'm not this body. I'm not this mind. She's like, well, you're going to die one day. I'm like, no, I'm not. This fucking body will die, but I am immortal. I am God. I don't die. I mean, I experience the death of this body and that body and this creation and that star and this galaxy and this virus, whatever I'm inhabiting, but I don't die. I said, the only thing that's real is that which never changes. And I am that which never changes. And all these other things are forms. She's like, no, you are, you know, she starts getting into it. I'm like, whatever.
I changed the subject at one point. She literally takes a break to go pray. I'm like, at least she actually does the fucking prayers and has alarms on her phone for them. Respect, respect. Like if I'm going to be out with a woman dressed like this, you should be praying too. I'm like, you pray towards Mecca, right? And she's like, yeah, she seems a little impressed that I know that much because I don't know shit else about being Muslim. Although I did read the Quran a little bit like a decade ago, but not that I remember much out of it.
What's funny though, this Black woman and this white dude are sitting together looking like they're like snuggling over at this like table bench next to us. But, you know, significantly like 10, 15 feet away. The Muslim girl gets up and walks off to go pray. The Black woman looks over at me and she gives me a knowing smile. Like, I see you over here, this white-looking guy over here with this full dress Muslim girl. She gives me a like respectful, I see you smile. And I smile back like, hey, thanks for noticing. I see you over there, this white dude, much love. You know, it was really nice. Like it was one of the best parts of the day. Just that moment of like, I see you and you see me and it's cool. It was cool.
So she prays and she's gone like 10 minutes praying, and I'm like, respect. I avoid looking on my phone to try and swipe girls on Hinge or Bumble because I figure that's disrespectful, so I just sit there and look around. She comes back, and I'm like, let's switch sides of the couch. You get on the other side. She sits all the fuck away from me, but she's actually into me. I can tell getting her all emotional, talking about God and shit, this was the key to her heart. I'm in a deep-ass conversation with her, and time is slipping away. It goes past 5.30 like it's nothing.
And I'm surprised that the conversation has taken this far of a turn. She mentions she works in medicine. She talks about some, like, symptoms and medication. I'm like, yep. Definitely not interested in fixing that shit up. You can imagine she'd be pretty uninterested in my definitions of health. But at the same time, I've come to believe I'm the one who's been fucking healthy for years and who hasn't had any significant kind of sickness for years. So maybe I know a thing or two about health. And it started, she asked if I want to sip out of her drink. Like I could get my own. I'm like, in my experience I don't believe in germ theory. But at the same time, I don't need to be slurping sugary drinks either. So thanks for the offer. Now this is a doctor having me tell her I don't believe in germ theory. So we had a nice ass discussion.
But I start to think like, all right, the kids are going to be home. I'm going to go to this AA meeting later. And I'm going to need some time to like drive home from fucking Tampa and then see the kids for like an hour beforehand. I tell her, like, I need to go at 6. And she walks me out to her car, literally to give me a fucking Quran. Okay? I'm like, respect for this girl being such a devoted Muslim. Like, I've never seen a Christian this devoted before that I could talk to for more than a few minutes. And respect for this girl for being able to talk to me. I'm like, how much of an adventure is this? Like, how cool is it to be out with a girl that might want to marry me and have kids with me? Like, it's just really cool. I never thought I'd get to do this again over most of the last decade. And it's like, this is cool. This is a new fun experience I can write about. So we walk all the way back to her car. She has a little trouble finding it, even though she took pictures of literally everything she needed to. She gives me, like, a package. I'm like, does she have this for me? Or does she just roll around the trunk with, you know, an introduction to Islam in her fucking trunk all wrapped up nicely in a package that looks like she gets like 10 of them at a time in the mail and has them ready to go for infidels?
I'm like, is this girl trying to marry me and have kids with me, or is she trying to convert me to Islam? I'm not sure, but the conversion to Islam shit's definitely not happening. So she seems open to a hug, so I give her a hug, and then she's kind of lingering, it seems like she wants something else. I totally would make out with her, but at the same time I know this is not a girl that I want to keep seeing, so I don't want to like increase the heat and the tension by making out with this girl right now because it doesn't seem right. Like, I don't want to convince myself that I do want to be with her when I know this has been fun talking to her, but I do not want to marry this girl, that's for sure. She's great, and I hope somebody marries her and takes good care of her, and you know, he provides for her and is a great husband or whatever.
But I walk back to my car feeling pretty good. I'm like, you know, that was fun. But at the same time, I'm glad to be walking around the mall by myself. Am I self-conscious of walking around with a girl dressed in full Muslim gear in the mall? I am, yes. There was a funny part, too, where I saw there was another girl dressed up in whatever the fuck you call it. And I thought for a minute this girl had changed her outfit. Then I realized, no, that's a different girl. There's more than one Muslim woman at this mall right now, bro. It's like it's crowded. I literally went to the mall and didn't spend a fucking dollar either. I feel good about that.
So I walk all the way across the mall. She parked on the opposite side. And I'm like, this is a sign to me. Like she parked on the opposite side of the mall from me. Literally like the exact fucking other end. So I walk all the way over to my end and it's cool. It's like, all right, I'm glad I'm thinking clearly. I definitely don't need to go out with this girl again. I've checked my interest and verified it's not there. But at the same time, it was great practice because I want to be ready when I meet a fucking banger to act the way I acted on this date today. Except, you know, I was thinking I could hold this girl's hand, but I'm like, you know, I don't need to be amping this up right now just to see if I can. I'm good. Like, if anything, I want to be calming this shit down right now.
So I drive home. I just got distracted because I texted a woman I'd been talking to that I canceled my membership at a local spiritual community because I'm tired of these fucking light-based hippies, you know, that can't handle darkness and handle the negative. The negative is so powerful. You should learn to use the dark and the light. Don't just stick to one. Use both of them. So I texted her, I canceled my membership. Hanging out with you at the Halloween party was my second best memory from all the events I went to. I mean, you know I intentionally was fucking with her to try and send some message like that. She says, oh, Jerry, you'll be missed at the events. I hope you still come to the events sometimes. What was the first best memory? Bitch, wouldn't you like to know? No, seriously, the first place memory was talking to a woman I'd been interested in. I had an even better conversation with her. They're both fun, but that conversation got so deep. That shit was so hot. I'm like, all right, I'm glad I can just send these messages out and they work. I'm not responding at fucking 12 a.m. though. I'm going to bed. What the fuck am I doing up at 12.14 a.m. anyway? This is as late as I've been up in a while. But I'm going to wrap it up because I got tennis tomorrow at nine and then I got a date at the sushi place.
But all right, so I call my sponsor on the way home and talk to him. He's proud of me for taking so much action. Same time, I was a little rough on him because he's like, you know, I might need your advice on online dating. I'm like, all right, first of all, I take care of myself and I look good, which is very attractive. And I don't give a shit if you're in your 70s, you can change your eating and take better care of yourself. And then you'd have more success with women. But it's hard when you're, you know, not feeling very confident in yourself. Women pick up on that. So I told him, like, a nicer, gentler version of that. And, you know, I felt like he said I shamed him. I'm like, well, you can't handle the truth. I'm like, if you want to do better with online dating, then you need to take better care of yourself first and foremost. And then from there, you can do better. All right? So I talked to him on my way home. I like it, though. He can really take, you know, my honest feedback, which is nice. I've told him shit before, too, but he doesn't listen. Or he listens, but he didn't do anything about it. So that's fine. That's on him. I respect that a woman I'd been talking to actually texted me back too. And I'm working on leveling up my text game. Giving and taking honest feedback is something I value deeply, so if you want personal, straight feedback on something you're working through, I'd be glad to talk one-on-one on a private Zoom call.
35 fucking minutes I've been dictating this. All right, it's time to wrap up. I get home, hang out with the kids. My son, I tell my son, always stay playful, son. Always be playful. Keep being playful. Keep that energy your whole life. And he plays with me like crazy. Fucking gets this berry popsicle all over me. Like, I wore this, you know, pink shirt. I was going to say nice, but it's fucking cheap. My ex-wife got it for me, you know, to not look like a bag of assholes on one of our pictures a few years ago. And my son, it's just a plain ass pink, you know, regular ass collared shirt, 100% cotton. And my son smears this popsicle all over every direction of it. My ex-wife sprays it off and throws it in the washer. I have a full dinner at my ex-wife's house off of these whole fruit popsicles she makes. And then I come home, I drive to the AA meeting.
And there's a lot of people I know there tonight. Fortunately, I'm not fantasizing, but I see so many people I know, I end up just talking to people I know. I meet one girl, she's got, like, some gray hair. I think she sat in front of me last week. If she wanted kids, I'd probably go out with her. But I've figured out today my hard line filter is they've got to want kids. That is my barometer. I will put up with some other shit out of you if you want kids. But if you don't want kids, don't call me. Stop calling. All right. And I drive home from the AA meeting. It was a nice meeting. Good speakers.
And then I go over to my mom's house. My mom's fucking toxic about: last night, I said something blunt about a family member, that physically she's got a lot of work to do on her health. She's like, don't ever say that again. I really like her. I'm like, look, can we stop fucking lying, all right? Can we just be honest? Because my whole point is I'd rather tell somebody the hard truth than feed them a comfortable lie, because this is why people are so fucked up. It's because nobody comes up to you and is honest about where you're really at. And I hold myself to the same exact standard. I told my mom, like, I was a fixer-upper too. When I met my ex-wife, I was a fixer-upper, and I had a ton of work to do on myself. I don't think it's kind to pretend somebody's in great shape when they're not. I think it's kinder to be honest so they can actually do something about it. But this is just honest. Like, this is what people are thinking. Most people don't have the balls to fucking say it and be honest about it. And I appreciate that I ruthlessly don't give my mom a fucking inch on this, because to me honesty is the loving thing, even when it's uncomfortable. I didn't get up and leave, and when my mom gave me some shit, not only can I take it, but I'm going to push back. My mom tries to say that our marriage was a failure because we got divorced. I'm like, listen. Every marriage ends, whether it's divorce or death, it doesn't matter that much how it happens. I didn't make any vows to stay together in sickness or health or forever. Marriage is not forever to me. That might be forever to her. She's like, it's successful because your dad and I, he died and I'm a widow. She's like, that's the only successful way to have a marriage. I'm like, that's fucking stupid. Like, seriously? So you can be miserable as fuck and dad dies and you think that's successful? Like, no, I think me getting divorced, dating other women, having another family and everybody's happy, that's more successful than you and dad. That's my opinion. And that's great. I already am familiar with your opinion because I've thought that way before. I'm really happy with my opinion, and I think it's really successful that my ex-wife and I got divorced the way we did, especially if you read Author in St. Petersburg. I think you'll agree. All right, it is 12.23. It is time to turn this off.
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