You can't be neutral on a moving train.

""It's that all talk, no listen" Policy. It's cool though, the next flight to Hiroshima is at dawn." -- APGB, March 14, 1.02am

Some ground rules. How do you know if you're a booty call, and not the main squeeze? Well.

1. You're never texted, or updated on this persons life. Never called just to talk, never told you're missed in any context other than the one listed below.

2. If you are contacted, it's probably after sunset, and it's not to meet in any public area... it's to expect some company for the evening.

3. If you are the booty call. Just know it's not a bad position to be in. All's is required is that you be aware of the fact that you're NOT the main squeeze because you're either not physically attractive, or you're mentally incompetent. OR. You got off on the wrong foot. That being said, if you are the booty call... Say as LITTLE as possible. You're not there to talk.

Read Below.

SHORT STORY: I decided not to inform him of my new homes location. So as to let things die naturally. When I had discussed this decision with a previous lover of mine, he had warned me that if he still knew anything about me, that my body would bring me down to my knees. He was right. I concluded that I couldn't let my body suffer for intellectual shortcomings, I asked him to come over. Him being overly eager to come over, happily obliged. I saw multiple orgasms in my horizon - under the sole condition he acts like he knows he's The Booty Call and Does Not Speak. Of course, history told me that he has no knowledge of this Job Description, because The Boy could not Shut The Fuck Up.

The Fates had spoken: This relation would die an unnatural death, HIROSHIMA.

PAUSE. (Commentary) - HIROSHIMA - The mental place where I move all fruitless projects to and drop a bomb on it. Nuclear.

He came to me, complaining of my less than good direction giving. Strike One.

PAUSE. (Commentary) - if you're here for sex, don't say anything negative. Walk in, be charming, be silent, and be seductive.

Due to that, the vibe was jeopardized. We had us some drinks. Apparently, this was the perfect time for him to talk more (Rolling Eyes)... eventually leading to a place of talking about Marriage. Him not accepting the marriage cycle of a hypothetical situation, a cultural mixation of American and African. Me not caring about his opinion. Him asking if his American Ideals have had no effect on my African Ideals. Me saying only the effects I've always wanted it to have have taken their rightful place, the rest I threw in the trash. Him not accepting these answers, undermining my take on his ideals. Me, anxious for dawn, when the next flight to Hiroshima takes off. Him, giving me another hypothetical situation. A choice, between a hard working man who fails at all things, or a rich man who's successful at all things but without the effort. Me choosing the logical option, Mr.Big. Him so rattled and upset by this choice, wrangles me for an explanation. Me explaining that I like Winners. That like the Lioness, if two males were to physically fight over me, I'd choose the victor, and never look back. Him being SO bothered by this, tells ME that I'M not who he thought I was (look who's talking, booty call) and decides to sleep on the couch. Me, unphazed. Nonchalantly retire to sleep and immediately erase all his contacts.

He arises in the morning and asks me what I'm doing in the afternoon. I wonder why he tries so hard to apply for the Main Squeeze position, when he couldn't even cut it for the Booty Call? I made something up and closed the door.

Hiroshima flight takes off.

ALL THE REASONS WHY HE CANNOT BE MAIN SQUEEZE:
- Physically ideal, Facially unattractive
- Mentally incompetent (all this fighting with the course of nature HAD to stop. It's not that he's unintelligent. He just doesn't get it because he refuses to broaden his perspective away from his own)
- Refuses to read and learn his Job Description.


CONCLUSION: As so eloquently put by my fellow Ninja
I think some people look for relationships in the wrong places and get confused when the result isn't what they were hoping. You don't aspire to date a guy/girl who's coochie/penis you happened to fall on at midnight after the club or on a drunken night.

Until proven otherwise you are to assume you are a one night fuck buddy

Then you're Booty Call buddies if you get a second phone call.

But That's It

I rest my case.

APG's Manifesto

A Pretty Girl might never be married. She has too many Options. Too many ways to not be where she is. The Pretty Girl knows that most things she wants are hers for the taking. That with a certain amount of charm, any harm done to her choice of lovers can be easily undone. A Pretty Girl doesn't want to endure, suffer, compensate, or persevere for love. She is under the impression that love is the honeymoon particle of all relationships. Little does she know of the lessons her ever elusive opposite can teach her. For instance, an Ugly Girl knows what it is to work for a relationship. Which is mostly to endure, suffer, compensate, and persevere. It's the only way "relationships" can survive. The only reason Ugly Girls are talented at this is because they lack the one essential component A Pretty Girl defines herself on: OPTIONS. Lessons Pretty Girls should learn;

Its easy to be faithful (when nobody's trying to fuck you)
It's easy to be satisfied with little (when you had nothing to begin with)

A Pretty Girl = Wild Animal.

A Wild Animal roams on its plains moving here and there. When drought hits the premesis, it relocates. If it's too cold, it relocates. If it's too anything, it moves. Never second guessing the fact that somehow, somewhere, there are greener pastures awaiting! Pretty Girls are the same. Try to put one of these creatures in a zoo, and you will witness the biggest struggle you might have ever seen. The absence of a limitation on your Options makes all the difference in your beliefs and actions.

Like a captured Tiger in a zoo, she will circle her cage for all eternity. Pondering methods of escape. Dreaming of the Jungle.
To bring A Pretty Girl to her knees is to tame a wild animal. Impossible.

The delusion of never ending OPTIONS lasts until A Pretty Girl's last breath... She who lives Pretty, dies Pretty.