Thirsty Chronicles - The Pursuit of Head

These were dark, and shady, shady times.

I was 15. Young. And Thirrrrrstaaaaaaay.

I had been fantasizing about getting head since I heard of it, and now -I wanted nothing else. I began asking random boys, "What's your take on the subject of Cunningulus"I got different responses. Most were no. The boy who's smile was the loveliest and eyes shone the brightest and was definitely the tallest and the bestest basketball player who was too cool for me, even though I was popular as fuck, looked into my eyes and said "when and where" ... I shied away. I wasn't ready for him. I wanted to marry him. But not like "this".

At the time, I had found myself involved with a boy who I had no interest in. I was with him circumstantially. It's a long story. I came out looking quite similar, if not identical, to a heaux. And since the law of teenage hood deemed me to ostracism, I stayed with the reason I was banished from the crowds.


You might be wondering, why would you do heaux-shit and risk ostracism for a dude you didn't even give a fuck about?

Simple. Revenge.

Anyway, moving on. I was obsessed with the Pursuit of head. I thought, well since everyone is minding my business now, how about I get it from my boyfriend? Whom I was not even remotely attracted to. He couldn't kiss worth a dog's damn. His fingering skills were *SO* atrocious. But since I can't tell people when their sex game is lacking, I decided to encourage him. Maybe his sloppy kisses would make amazing sloppy head? We HAD to get to third base.

But Ladies and Gentlemen, the boy was not going. I didn't know how much longer I could endure this bad foreplay in the name of waiting for head ... so what did I do?
for Valentines Day, 2002 - I sent a boy a cake.

A cake that stated the following; EAT ME.

Well. He ate, alright. The Cake, that is. And ... AND ... I never got ANYTHING for Valentines day. Not Head, not a card, not a bloody chocolate bar. Which is kind of major for Malawians. We go hard in the paint for our lovers on lovers day.

Had he known, that the effect of his cause would be so bloody Epic - he would have crawled to me on his hands and knees. Remember that lovely boy at the beginning of our story? Yes him. During our spring break, he was at a house party I was at. Him and my boyfriend were super buddies. They hung out together. Same crew. When "Get Busy - Sean Paul" came on? I pushed this lovely smiled, lovely eyed, lovely boy up against the wall and did everything a little teenage girl can think to do with her cutey booty. Soon, we were making out like showing out on the side of the road outside ... which became the back seat of someone's car ... which became his face ... in the kitty parlor. Justice Prevailed. And, all of my boyfriends friends stood by and watched it all happen. I remember their dagger eyes. lol. How do I sleep at night? With a bottle of cold water by my bed. Thanks for asking.

I immediately dumped my boyfriend the next day. (With his extra Extra lame ass. No Barbeque sauce.) and carried on my reign of the undying pursuit of: Good. Head.

The rest is history. What did I learn from this experience?

Whatever ONE man is unwilling to do, there are pleeeeeeeenty more - more than willing. to do it.

And just to think, somewhere on this planet - this boy is someone's love of their life. One girls treasure? Another Girl's TRASH.

Thank you, and Happy Valentines Day 2011.