Choir Boy Needs A Confession

To start off this blogging adventure, I thought I would share a story about a guy that I met through the choir I was involved with in college. Whoever said choir boys are holier than thou was wrong.

The summer before my final year in college, I was placed in a group message with around 40 people who were all in this choir I was about to join. Something you should know about me: I HATE GROUP MESSAGES. Actually, who likes them at all? If you do, please comment below. I need some answers.

Anyway, a girl in the choir asked us to send a picture and a little basic info for everyone to get to know each other before school started. In true Kasey fashion, when I got this message was out on Dickson Street having drinks. I ended up being the first person to respond to the message in the group and snapped a picture of myself doing the classic “duck face”. I know, I’m cringing too but it was a cute picture tbh. The same girl mentioned above proceeded to tell everyone (AKA ME) to make sure that they “stay safe” and “be careful” tonight if you’re out…

Listen. We get it. You’re talking to me. It’s pretty fucking obvious considering I’m literally the only one that has responded to the group message so far. But whatever, go ahead and tell me to be safe if it makes you look like you actually give a shit about others. Needless to say, things started off rocky for me and said girl. Silver Lining: we are friends now.

Sorry for the tangent…here we go.

In the group message above, I scouted out all the hot guys (don’t act like you don’t do this). There was likeee one guy with remotely maybe possibly enough potential for me to ever so slightly be interested in… so I creeped. I stalked him a little on Facebook and found out he was from Texas and even more so, lived close to my family’s ranch. I started small talk and proceeded to invite him out to our ranch for a 4th of July party we were hosting. He gladly accepted and brought a friend along with him.

*Side Note: My family is notorious for throwing parties and hosting gatherings so don’t think it’s weird that I invited this guy I don’t know to my home…it’s a thing we do. If you think it’s weird, get over yourself.

He gets to the party and immediately questions where all the people “our age” are. Mind you, I told him this was a family-oriented shindig. My family likes to party but this is nowhere near the frat party I’m sure he was expecting. Like, I’m so sorry but we are not going to do body shots or keg stands with children around. Okay actually in the right setting, keg stands could be a possibility knowing my crazy ass family. I digress.

He shows up to the house and I get them settled into their bedroom. As soon as we walk in, he and his friend pull out handles of whiskey and just start chugging. Good start to the afternoon.

The afternoon progresses and he continues drinking. We did all the July 4th things; my dad even put on a fireworks show. We eventually finish the night and all go to bed. Well, at least I thought everyone went to sleep. I woke up the next morning to my mom and dad telling me that choir boy told my dad to FUCK OFF.

I’m actually laughing as I type this because who the hell does this guy think he is but telling my father, in his own home, to fuck off? LOL. For anyone that knows my dad, he is a terrifying human. Love him to death, he is intimidating. Anyway, choir boy got figgity figgity fucked up and doesn’t remember a thing…Imagine that! Cherry on top, I found out later that also he told my aunt to fuck off.

Ahhh…I really know how to pick ‘em. Needless to say, he has not been and never will be allowed back at the ranch but who didn’t see that coming.






This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. I went back home to Texas last weekend due to the fact that my parents, very suddenly, decided that I needed to visit. This isn’t abnormal — they have randomly flown me home for the weekend because they missed me. I was looking forward to a weekend of yummy food, quality time, and not having to pay for a single thing. And thennnnn shit hit the fan right as I landed. I found out that their reasoning for flying me down was none other than to squeeze in as many therapy sessions as possible. I’m sorry, what? Yah, you heard right. They flew me down…for therapy simply because I launched this blog.

Let me preface this by saying that my parents have the best intentions. However, their execution in giving me their (many) opinions and advice is not always best. My parents freaked out when they found out about the blog. My mother said that I was going through emotional trauma…thought I was on drugs…the whole nine yards. For those wondering, I’m not doing any of the drugs. Bottom line is they thought that this blog was an “out lash for all the pent-up anger I have towards men” (straight quote from mama). When in reality, I have nothing against them. Men are great. I’m just writing about funny stories that happen when dating them.

Important note: I am a huge advocate for therapy. I have my own therapist in Fayetteville and swear by it. I think it is mostly just because I have an hour each week that someone is sitting down and forced to listen to me talk. She may be getting paid to do so but listening nonetheless. I appreciate my parents’ sentiment in wanting to help me..GOOD LORD.

All this to say, I had to clear the air up with my family as to my reasoning why I wanted to write this blog. Obviously, I was not super clear in my first post so here are two things I want to emphasize.

  1. What exactly is a fuck boy?

This is the main issue my parents had with the blog…the title. Whether it is the generation gap or ignorance of the actual word, they did not understand the meaning of a fuck boy. According to urban dictionary, a fuck boy is “a manipulating man who does whatever it takes to benefit him, regardless of who he screws over. They will screw over anyone and everyone as long they get what they want”. I have included the definition of a fuck boy on the right-hand side of my page so you can reference it at any time. My parents and several other people thought a fuck boy was someone I slept with…not the case whatsoever. Which leads me to my next point…

  1. I will not be writing about my sex life, or anyone else’s for that matter.

Sorry friends. That’s something that I intend to keep personal. Whether or not I am having sex is not something I want to put on the internet for friends, family, and even random people to read.

Now that that is settled, I can finally get into why I created this blog to begin with. Thanks for sticking with me for this fun ride.

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Seatbelts, Everyone!

Throughout my time as a young adult, I have encountered some strange men in my life. I have always gone straight to my mom and best friends to tell these crazy stories but I have wanted to publicly share them for quite a while now. I wrestled back and forth on how to properly address these encounters. I thought about writing a book, creating a podcast but writing a blog seemed to be the best way to share these stories.

To start off, the purpose of this blog is to write about the crazy, absurd, funny, and sexy stories of my love life. Ultimately, I hope to open up the breadth of this blog to include other women’s stories on here to make y’all laugh in hopes of being able to relate to the stories shared.

Some people might ask, why in the world are you opening up your life so publicly for anyone and everyone to read? Well…because I think I’m hilarious. That may sound conceited but y’all will either love me or hate me; it’s better to figure that out sooner rather than later for your sake.

One thing I will ask is that to keep the vibes positive on this blog. If you have any complaints, obviously feel free to let me know and contact me directly. Also, you have to remember that these are REAL things that have happened in my life. While I am talking about these men in an open forum, just remember that their names and some information of these men will be changed to protect their privacy.

In the end, my goal is to share really hilarious stories. So stay tuned for my first story on the blog. Until then, click the follow button the right side to subscribe and follow my blog so y’all will know when a new post is up.

Don’t forget, grown men can still be fuck boys.