Hello friends and thank you for reading the blog. Brad has yet to find a woman to share his magnificent life and home with yet, but it has to happen soon for him.. right?
So I guess my game must have been running a little bit without me noticing for some odd reason. Odd things keep happening.-.-
Oh well, it’s fitting for the nature of the challenge I guess lol.
This resulted in Brad failing to take care of himself. Like.. all he did was get up in the morning after I put him to bed last night. He just needed to do his mourning routine before work on his own.
Apparently that’s too much to ask of an adult Sim.
Brad: I gotta pee.
No time to pee.
Really Brad?? You didn’t eat, shower or pee? I don’t feel sorry for you ONE bit.
So off he went to work. I was hoping to get a promotion because we could need some extra $$$. I really fear the bills when they come but oh well. Nothing I can do about that part.
Brad: I stink.
Mhm. In more ways than one. You went to work an entire day and made less than $200. That’s sad. And you PEED yourself.
I honestly thought they always use the bathroom and fill up that need at work at least?
Guess not, hmph.
However, being stinky and gross doesn’t stop Brad from wanting to get with someone. So far it’s just someone random without a name.
I kinda decided that whenever he has a wish to do something with a specific Sims, that’s the one we’ll go for as far as marriage and all that jazz are concerned.
In the middle of taking a shower.. The she-devil called again.
And why I let her come over, I don’t know. I guess I am a glutton for punishment, and I take a sadistic thrill in seeing Brad miserable LOL
Brad: Not funny.
Actually, it kinda is.
Until I spot her stomping down the street. Looks like a terrific beginning.
Brad gets out of the shower without even finishing it.
Brad: I don’t want her to leaaave!
I doubt she will.. she’s pushy. And bossy. And clingy.
Brad: You look nice. So.. uhm. How are you?
Antonia: Oh don’t you play innocent with me, Brad! I know what you did last night. Mhm. I heard all about it.
Brad: What do you mean?
Heh.. guess she means Cake girl at the library. Antonia must have spies out there. Doesn’t surprise me at all!
Just slightly clingy.
^ Totally Antonia. I keep typing Antonio ;D
So Brad does something really random. I guess he had enough of her shit? Instead of trying to explain the whole situation (although he did get awfully cozy with Cake girl) he gets in the shower and pretty much leaves Antonia on her own.
Then he proceeds with cleaning up last night’s dinner.. aka salad lol..
And still ignores Antonia it seems. Good boy.
But that doesn’t slow her down any.
Antonia: Hmm. Let’s see if there’s someone else’s fingerprints on this book.
Again, lets hide the knives!
Brad grabs some cereal and sits down and Antonia is not slow to hover over him.
Antonia: I’m going to leave if you don’t pay attention to me.
Brad: I was just hungry. Want some cereal?
Antonia: NO! You need to take me out to eat because you are being a shitty boyfriend.
He is not your boyfriend, freak.
Antonia: STFU. Didn’t ask you.
But Brad is being a doormat and takes her out anyway.
Antonia: Damn right he is.
And apparently that made her happy, sigh. There really should be a ‘high maintenance’ trait. It would suit her perfectly.
It changed as soon as she stepped foot inside the lounge. Seriously THE moment. Gone is the horrible attitude and she is happy as a clam now.
Bartender: You look like a nice couple. Any kids?
Antonia: Not yet.
Brad is quiet and just drinks. Probably for the best.
Antonia: So this is really nice. You should take me out more. Like every day.
Brad: Uhm. Okay.
No. Not okay dammit.
Oh look. Friendly girls. They’re locals too.
Antonia: Don’t look at them, Brad.
Don’t be a rude ass. Say hi.
Antonia: Fine. Bye. Your loss.
BYE! Not hurting my feelings. Keep on walking.
Looking back after her quick exit, Brad fails to get himself to the bathroom again. We are not losing more points!
So off he goes after being monitored since he’s like a two year old that’s still being potty trained.
Ohhh. Look who’s here. It’s under-wear girl.
Ayla: I actually have a name, you know. It’s Ayla. The cool chick.
Well.. can’t say she’s not a looker at least. Let’s find Brad!
Come dance with her, Brad.
Brad: Uh okay…
Dance with her usually doesn’t mean from the other side of the room. Just sayin’
Brad: But Antonia.. she could come back.
Who the hell cares? She’s not the boss of you.
I don’t know why it sometimes clips their heads.. Oh well.
Ayla: It’s fine.. I can come to him. I’m not shy. ;]
That works for me.
Brad: But Antonia will get mad…
Who the fricken frack cares???
Ayla: Come here pussycat. I can show you a good time, if you know what I’m saying.
We do! Let’s do it. She’s cute and BAM insta-babies. Mwahaha.
Brad: Okay! Let’s do it.
Yay for flirty trait ;D
We invited Ayla home.
Brad: I invited her, you mean?
No, WE invited her.
Brad: Actually, I’m kinda tired.
Then wake the hell up. You got business to do.
Ayla: I’ll wake him up, no problem. Mmmmmm.
Brad: Okay. Suddenly not tired anymore.
Ayla: So wanna go to the bedroom, handsome?
Brad: Sure. I’m kinda tired still. Now that you’re mentioning it.
Ayla: Oh my god!! I am not attractive enough for you?? Is that why you keep wanting to fall asleep on me.
Brad: Wait, what?
You really are clueless aren’t you, huh? Just do me a favor and don’t write ‘Relationships 101’ as an author -.-
Speaking of author.. we should probably write a book soon lol. But we’ll worry about that later.
Ayla: No one has turned me down before! This is so embarrasing.
Brad: No, no. I am not turning you down. I can sleep, later. After.. you know.
You mean sex. After sex.
Brad: Yeah.. that.
For a flirty dude, you kinda suck at this.
Ayla: Ohhhh okay. Sounds good.
Brad: So.. where were we?
Groping I think. Pretty sure.
Ayla: Hold on. Just got to do some sit ups so that I can look good for the audience.
Ayla: Never mind.
Meanwhile Brad got tired.. More tired.
Brad: Zzz z *zombiewalks to bed*
Awww c’mon Brad :[ But nope. I couldn’t stop him from being tired.
Points: -5 Because he had to pee himself. Dumbass.