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Saturday, April 2, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
APGB's #FreakyFridays: Emotions For Dummies!
Welp. I've turned a new page.
Remember how I said I'm gonna be more Honest this year like Michael Scott for my resolution? Yes.
As opposed to having a bunch of jump off's or being in an exclusive relationship - I choose to indulge in Lovers.
Lover's are like a smoothie blend of Jump Off's and Exclusivity. These are title-less shindigs, where I'm physically and emotionally connected but the relation is not that deep. And nobodies taking anyone to the motherfucking bank. Casual sex, with people I like.
WHY girl? ... Whhhhhyyyyy? I hear you asking. I have a few responses:
1. I'ont like being in a relationship. I mean. It's a cute idea, and I'ont know about ya'll but a bish starts feeling really stifled after a while. I feel like someone is strangling me in my sleep sometimes. Needless to say, I have DIRE commitment issues. I feel like I'd rather pursue my career diligently than pursue love (and them) ... Diligently. Too many emotional roller-coasters involved in this.
2. Jump off's are cool, but not as cool as possible for the job. I can't fuck someone to the fullest of my fuckability unless I know them and I Like them. Don't ask me, it's just something I've learned about my body. And obviously I can't be bothered to "know" someone who's not worth knowing. So that being said, my jump off's have been known to be some definitely date-able guys. They landed as jump off's because of circumstantial issues (i/e falling under dick requirements, sexual performance requirements or geographical requirements ...)
I settle upon Lovers.
Lovers fall under this wonderful umbrella. There is NO title. Whatever goes on between us is absolutely confidential, and suffers NOTHING from "Them" "They" and "The People". I answer to no one about how my relationship is going, because it is not a "relationship". I introduce them to none of my family and friends in a serious manner and likewise. I've found that when I see dudes in this fashion, away from the speculation and the interrogation, everything is better. Maybe that is why Official Relationships stifle me ... because I have to answer to SO many people about any and everything. It's waaaaay too much pressure ... especially since I like keeping my private life private.
But More Importantly. When I like someone ... their dick swells.
Not literally. I'm just saying. I could casually see someone and not think anything of anything, but when I actually "like" someone ... this same penis that wasn't anything worth writing in the diary about all of a sudden becomes this Large, and Wholesome thing!! No Lies. I thought I was imagining this but no.
I had an ex, whom I adored, and really thought his dick was something worth choking on. After we broke up we had "for old times sake" sex and I couldn't help but laugh. Was this really the SAME EXACT cock??? ... Really? ... . . . . . the same ONE? Oh. Okay.
Anyway Doe. Lovers are JUST involved enough for me to qualify as something that I enjoy smashing regularly and am capable of being seen in public with irregularly, but at the same time - are not IN my life intricately enough to really fuck up my daily moods or even pressurize me into monogamy. It's this relaxed environment that I thrive in. No Pressure. All Love. I can discuss things and get logical responses. I can enjoy myself. I appreciate that.
Who am I to say, "No." to such perfection?
Who wouldn't enjoy a people who are there for the sole purpose of pleasing you and yet are not involved with you enough to influence your energy? I don't like the idea of "hoping" that my partner is as dedicated to peace and happiness and fulfillment as I am. And only find out that their thesis to life is in a whole 'nother book. Never mind chapter, or page. It's the perfect temperature for casual bliss. I'll think about exclusivity when I can afford it. literally. I'm talking dollars and cents. When I have a house and a car and egyptian cotton sheets, we can discuss taking relationships to the next level. Polygamy. LOL. I keeeeed I keeeeed I joke. (Laughing but very serious. Me and three husbands. The story is to be continued)
Call me x (hahahahahaha!!) <<< that is my Evil Laugh.
Remember how I said I'm gonna be more Honest this year like Michael Scott for my resolution? Yes.
As opposed to having a bunch of jump off's or being in an exclusive relationship - I choose to indulge in Lovers.
Lover's are like a smoothie blend of Jump Off's and Exclusivity. These are title-less shindigs, where I'm physically and emotionally connected but the relation is not that deep. And nobodies taking anyone to the motherfucking bank. Casual sex, with people I like.
WHY girl? ... Whhhhhyyyyy? I hear you asking. I have a few responses:
1. I'ont like being in a relationship. I mean. It's a cute idea, and I'ont know about ya'll but a bish starts feeling really stifled after a while. I feel like someone is strangling me in my sleep sometimes. Needless to say, I have DIRE commitment issues. I feel like I'd rather pursue my career diligently than pursue love (and them) ... Diligently. Too many emotional roller-coasters involved in this.
2. Jump off's are cool, but not as cool as possible for the job. I can't fuck someone to the fullest of my fuckability unless I know them and I Like them. Don't ask me, it's just something I've learned about my body. And obviously I can't be bothered to "know" someone who's not worth knowing. So that being said, my jump off's have been known to be some definitely date-able guys. They landed as jump off's because of circumstantial issues (i/e falling under dick requirements, sexual performance requirements or geographical requirements ...)
I settle upon Lovers.
Lovers fall under this wonderful umbrella. There is NO title. Whatever goes on between us is absolutely confidential, and suffers NOTHING from "Them" "They" and "The People". I answer to no one about how my relationship is going, because it is not a "relationship". I introduce them to none of my family and friends in a serious manner and likewise. I've found that when I see dudes in this fashion, away from the speculation and the interrogation, everything is better. Maybe that is why Official Relationships stifle me ... because I have to answer to SO many people about any and everything. It's waaaaay too much pressure ... especially since I like keeping my private life private.
But More Importantly. When I like someone ... their dick swells.
Not literally. I'm just saying. I could casually see someone and not think anything of anything, but when I actually "like" someone ... this same penis that wasn't anything worth writing in the diary about all of a sudden becomes this Large, and Wholesome thing!! No Lies. I thought I was imagining this but no.
I had an ex, whom I adored, and really thought his dick was something worth choking on. After we broke up we had "for old times sake" sex and I couldn't help but laugh. Was this really the SAME EXACT cock??? ... Really? ... . . . . . the same ONE? Oh. Okay.
Anyway Doe. Lovers are JUST involved enough for me to qualify as something that I enjoy smashing regularly and am capable of being seen in public with irregularly, but at the same time - are not IN my life intricately enough to really fuck up my daily moods or even pressurize me into monogamy. It's this relaxed environment that I thrive in. No Pressure. All Love. I can discuss things and get logical responses. I can enjoy myself. I appreciate that.
Who am I to say, "No." to such perfection?
Who wouldn't enjoy a people who are there for the sole purpose of pleasing you and yet are not involved with you enough to influence your energy? I don't like the idea of "hoping" that my partner is as dedicated to peace and happiness and fulfillment as I am. And only find out that their thesis to life is in a whole 'nother book. Never mind chapter, or page. It's the perfect temperature for casual bliss. I'll think about exclusivity when I can afford it. literally. I'm talking dollars and cents. When I have a house and a car and egyptian cotton sheets, we can discuss taking relationships to the next level. Polygamy. LOL. I keeeeed I keeeeed I joke. (Laughing but very serious. Me and three husbands. The story is to be continued)
Call me x (hahahahahaha!!) <<< that is my Evil Laugh.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Are Good Looking Men A Headache??
A question posted on the APGB facebook wall today:
"My cousin made the following statement '' I quit dating good looking men. All they do is mess up your life. Working on an ugly man cause he will take care of me.'' Apparently there is less talking (unfulfilled promises and the like) and more doing... What are your experiences?"
>>>>>> Welp. Hot Boys are a very delicate matter. They must be handled with care. And the thing is, they don't HAVE to be "Good Looking" ... they just have to be ATTRACTIVE.
It's like, men grow up trying to get all the pussy possible. Then all of a sudden, they figure out that when they're gentlemen, who care about their appearance, and are generally mildly good company - the pussy don't stop coming.
When you are the woman in their life - Life becomes Hard. Pun intended.
You become that boy you dated that told you "boys and girls can't be friends, so ditch your boy friends, I'm ALL the "Friend" you need"
It's hard to trust a good looking man, BECAUSE most of their friends are probably female - since other men don't trust them(around their girls). And you KNOW these women aren't really his friends. They're more like VULTURES. Circling and Waiting for a moment of weakness that they can take absolute advantage of. This is the HEADACHE us women are talking about ...
Who CAN handle being committed to a Catch? People think women are docile and that men are usually the ones chasing tail - which MIGHT be true in MOST cases, but I can guarantee you that whatever you think is happening while you're not around is exactly what's happening. Bitches be sacrificing their dignity, their pride, their Vagina's to your man, girl. Left, Right, Center, Front and Back. He couldn't be thirsty if he tried. He has to "run" away from that shit if he's serious about you.
Does this mean he doesn't give a shit about you? No
Does this mean he fucks the girls? Ey. Show me a man who can turn "offered" pussy down and I'll show you SUPERMAN. This is not saying it's IMPOSSIBLE, but I don't put anything past anyone. Many men are capable of being COMMITTED and simultaneously make you FEEL secure - but shit. Let's be serious. Have YOU met him yet?? If you did you'd probably want him for yourself and stand in line with the rest of his stans that are waiting for him to be vulnerable around them.
IN SHORT. I won't say UGLY men are easier to be with. And that they treat you better because they appreciate you - or whatever. Ugly Men can be headaches too. Because if You're fly - and you have male acquaintances, then this whole blog can relate to the way he can't handle the attention thrown at you.
I WILL SAY, though. That Good Looking Men have to grow up and LOOSE a couple of important things, for them to understand what the real issue is. You can't expect this from a young man though - he hasn't a clue about the level of damage standing in the middle of temptation can really do for you. And he's overwhelmed by the buffet style pussy overload.
But There ARE good looking men who know how to make women feel secure. They know that the constant female company is not a good look to the woman in their life, so they cut it out - or they reduce the temperature when they're in a committed relationship. They make sure they're with you most of the time, so you can see for yourself how his life runs, and to discourage you from making up stories about where he is when he's not with you. And also to show you the level of seriousness he is with you. And these are men who know how to say, "NO" to pussy offerings. In plain English. A nice, polite, and solid, "NO." Won't even be there long enough to let it be offered at all. Since he knows heaux's like the back of his hand. Won't give you room to doubt him at all. His Attention is Undivided. He doesn't even know WHERE his phone is when he's with you. That's a person who is trying to make YOU feel as SECURE as possible. Because HE KNOWS what losing your faith in him costs. In dollars and cents.
That's all I have to say.
It's very very very rare to meet a good looking man who's a "good lover".
It's HARD finding an Ugly man who is NOT insecure.
So I will definitely OVER-SELL the Average Man. Who is usually a sweetheart, who has no idea how he has you - let alone how he got your number, and is only concerned with your happiness, because your happiness IS his happiness. The Average Man has a high success rate in my book.
"My cousin made the following statement '' I quit dating good looking men. All they do is mess up your life. Working on an ugly man cause he will take care of me.'' Apparently there is less talking (unfulfilled promises and the like) and more doing... What are your experiences?"
>>>>>> Welp. Hot Boys are a very delicate matter. They must be handled with care. And the thing is, they don't HAVE to be "Good Looking" ... they just have to be ATTRACTIVE.
It's like, men grow up trying to get all the pussy possible. Then all of a sudden, they figure out that when they're gentlemen, who care about their appearance, and are generally mildly good company - the pussy don't stop coming.
When you are the woman in their life - Life becomes Hard. Pun intended.
You become that boy you dated that told you "boys and girls can't be friends, so ditch your boy friends, I'm ALL the "Friend" you need"
It's hard to trust a good looking man, BECAUSE most of their friends are probably female - since other men don't trust them(around their girls). And you KNOW these women aren't really his friends. They're more like VULTURES. Circling and Waiting for a moment of weakness that they can take absolute advantage of. This is the HEADACHE us women are talking about ...
Who CAN handle being committed to a Catch? People think women are docile and that men are usually the ones chasing tail - which MIGHT be true in MOST cases, but I can guarantee you that whatever you think is happening while you're not around is exactly what's happening. Bitches be sacrificing their dignity, their pride, their Vagina's to your man, girl. Left, Right, Center, Front and Back. He couldn't be thirsty if he tried. He has to "run" away from that shit if he's serious about you.
Does this mean he doesn't give a shit about you? No
Does this mean he fucks the girls? Ey. Show me a man who can turn "offered" pussy down and I'll show you SUPERMAN. This is not saying it's IMPOSSIBLE, but I don't put anything past anyone. Many men are capable of being COMMITTED and simultaneously make you FEEL secure - but shit. Let's be serious. Have YOU met him yet?? If you did you'd probably want him for yourself and stand in line with the rest of his stans that are waiting for him to be vulnerable around them.
IN SHORT. I won't say UGLY men are easier to be with. And that they treat you better because they appreciate you - or whatever. Ugly Men can be headaches too. Because if You're fly - and you have male acquaintances, then this whole blog can relate to the way he can't handle the attention thrown at you.
I WILL SAY, though. That Good Looking Men have to grow up and LOOSE a couple of important things, for them to understand what the real issue is. You can't expect this from a young man though - he hasn't a clue about the level of damage standing in the middle of temptation can really do for you. And he's overwhelmed by the buffet style pussy overload.
But There ARE good looking men who know how to make women feel secure. They know that the constant female company is not a good look to the woman in their life, so they cut it out - or they reduce the temperature when they're in a committed relationship. They make sure they're with you most of the time, so you can see for yourself how his life runs, and to discourage you from making up stories about where he is when he's not with you. And also to show you the level of seriousness he is with you. And these are men who know how to say, "NO" to pussy offerings. In plain English. A nice, polite, and solid, "NO." Won't even be there long enough to let it be offered at all. Since he knows heaux's like the back of his hand. Won't give you room to doubt him at all. His Attention is Undivided. He doesn't even know WHERE his phone is when he's with you. That's a person who is trying to make YOU feel as SECURE as possible. Because HE KNOWS what losing your faith in him costs. In dollars and cents.
That's all I have to say.
It's very very very rare to meet a good looking man who's a "good lover".
It's HARD finding an Ugly man who is NOT insecure.
So I will definitely OVER-SELL the Average Man. Who is usually a sweetheart, who has no idea how he has you - let alone how he got your number, and is only concerned with your happiness, because your happiness IS his happiness. The Average Man has a high success rate in my book.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Be Whole. Then Plus One.
I just saw the title of an article: Marriage was not designed to make you Happy.
Really now? Is that the thing you find out After the wedding? Is that what happens After you sail into the sunset? You find THAT out? What an unpleasant surprise. *snickers*
Us humans who don't like facing our situations for what they are will often tuck our ticks, insecurities, disatisfactions, and guilty pleasures under the rug. And when someone comes along who infatuates you, and you initially feel so damn good around them you can't imagine ever feeling not good - you just have it in your mind that all your problems dissipate in their presence. So then you want them around all the time. So then you marry them.
After the butterflies and rainbows disappear. You have the person. The Human. And you still have your bullshit. Except now there are two of you. Two Great People, with their bullshit to go with it.
I see this. I realize this. In a wild attempt to duck the bombs, I've come to the following conclusion:
Make sure that you have everything you need to be happy before getting in a relationship. Make sure that you have ALL corners covered. Money is right. Spirituality is right. Health is right. Relationships are right. So that the ONLY reason you want a partner is for Play ... and because you take such good care of yourself, you will see who brings what to the table with clear vision. You can see people CLEARLY when you take good care of yourself. You can't use anyone for anything when you supply everything for yourself. Relationships then become what they were always supposed to be - FUN. FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN.
And if you fall in love, well - what's FUNNER than that?
As for marriage, I have no advice. Never been married. Have no intentions on being married
Unless... Well .... I do want to know what it's like to be married to someone who's as dedicated to happiness and fulfillment as I am. I just wanna know what a household made of "STRIVERS" would be like. I'm pretty fierce as a one-man wolf pack. But if there were two? What exactly, are the possibilities?
Just a thought.
Anyway, here's the article ----- http://blackandmarriedwithkids.com/2011/02/18/marriage-was-not-designed-to-make-you-happy/
Really now? Is that the thing you find out After the wedding? Is that what happens After you sail into the sunset? You find THAT out? What an unpleasant surprise. *snickers*
Us humans who don't like facing our situations for what they are will often tuck our ticks, insecurities, disatisfactions, and guilty pleasures under the rug. And when someone comes along who infatuates you, and you initially feel so damn good around them you can't imagine ever feeling not good - you just have it in your mind that all your problems dissipate in their presence. So then you want them around all the time. So then you marry them.
After the butterflies and rainbows disappear. You have the person. The Human. And you still have your bullshit. Except now there are two of you. Two Great People, with their bullshit to go with it.
I see this. I realize this. In a wild attempt to duck the bombs, I've come to the following conclusion:
Make sure that you have everything you need to be happy before getting in a relationship. Make sure that you have ALL corners covered. Money is right. Spirituality is right. Health is right. Relationships are right. So that the ONLY reason you want a partner is for Play ... and because you take such good care of yourself, you will see who brings what to the table with clear vision. You can see people CLEARLY when you take good care of yourself. You can't use anyone for anything when you supply everything for yourself. Relationships then become what they were always supposed to be - FUN. FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN.
And if you fall in love, well - what's FUNNER than that?
As for marriage, I have no advice. Never been married. Have no intentions on being married
Unless... Well .... I do want to know what it's like to be married to someone who's as dedicated to happiness and fulfillment as I am. I just wanna know what a household made of "STRIVERS" would be like. I'm pretty fierce as a one-man wolf pack. But if there were two? What exactly, are the possibilities?
Just a thought.
Anyway, here's the article ----- http://blackandmarriedwithkids.com/2011/02/18/marriage-was-not-designed-to-make-you-happy/
Thursday, February 17, 2011
MAN! I just shitted on 'em!
HOOOOLLLLLLLLLLD UP!!
HOLD THEEEEE FUUUUCCCCCCK UUUUUPPPPPPPP! TIME-OUT MOTHERFUCKERS TIME-THEFUCK-OUT!!!!
*blows whistle*
Now I'm going to address this bullshit, and God Bless the individuals who still spread this stupid shit.
I commend the individual who first figured out that desperately lonely women was a potential market. My God - where they right. How did we come to this? I ask.
It all began with recognizing that humans are social and sexual creatures. We NEED relationships. And some genius took that female brain, CONVINCED it to take responsibility for EVERY gahtdamnthing men FAIL at, HUMANS fail at - and carry that shit in our purses EVERYWHERE we go.
I digress. Let's talk about Marriage, an institution with the best PR I've ever seen. You're really going to read all these books and articles to convince you that it's YOUR fault you're not married, because marriage is this amazing thing that you should dedicate your life to experience.
And then you get married.
And then you realize that marriage is a glorified relationship.
And relationships suck. Ass.
I mean, why else are you single now?
Isn't it because you paid $50 for a .50 cent item?
And you think Husbands are some Wonderful Men don't you?
No. They're not.
They are just Men.
Like every other man you fucked and loved and then realized you can't do this shit for ONE more day with and broke up.
Or whatever.
People tell you, "your boyfriends suck because you suck". Then you go to all these dumbass classes, read all these dumbass books. Indeed. Change your life! Because there is a rumor about this Dream Man - who has a salary, with benefits, little to no debt, no kids, no baggage, sexy as hell, and who is faithful. Loyal. DEDICATED.
So you become this perfect female. For this "dream man" But guess what? Dream men are in your DREAMS.
If you want to change yourself for the better, I have two suggestions for who and what to do it for.
1. YOU
2. MONEY
No man will ever be good enough, Girl. Not a single human walks this planet without faults. So why theeeeee fuck are you contributing your time, your energy, your money, to making a good wife? And listening to all these UNQUALIFIED STRANGERS tell you how to play your cards?
As if being Married is something to be proud of? EVERYONE is married. UNHAPPILY married at that. Being Married ain't shit. Being rich? THAT'S some shit. Barely anyone I know is RICH. Damn near EVERYONE I know is married. That should tell you something. Everybody knows Valuable things aren't easily achieved. If anybody can do it, it ain't worth shit. Why do you think McDonalds pays minimum wage?
Single Ladies, Just look at these titles: Why men love bitches, why men MARRY bitches, your degree's won't keep you warm at night, he's just not that into you, Why you're not married, Act like a Lady Think like a man (he sold two million copies), Stuck on stupid, Ladies! Listen Up!...
Don't those Titles INSULT you? Your intelligence?
Shiiiit if someone told me I "could" earn TWO MILLION DOLLARS from shitting on men, I'd do it too. I would go Hard in the Paint on alot of shit. Incase you don't believe me I would go IN on the following;
1. Broke ass men
2. Late ass men
3. Over-Reaching ass men
4. Low Libido ass men
5. Short ass men
6. Asshole ass men
7. Whore ass men
8. Small Dick ass men
9. Insecure ass men
10. Unhealthy ass men
11. DESERVE respect without EARNING respect ass men
12. Men with MANGINA's ass men
13. UnCLEAN ass men
14. Unambitious ass men
15. Leachy ass men
16. "no-homo" ass men
17. One Minute ass men
18. Uncircumsized ass men (No. 18 is some REAL shit to me. Fuck do we get brazilians for when we can't get a clean working area too?)
19. Rude ass men
20. Dumb ass men
Must I go on? Because I can. And if I KNEW these dudes would eat all my shit up and buy it off of amazon.com- sheeeeiiiiit, I would DO IT!!
Moral of the story is, don't listen to the propaganda. Make sure you live your life for your happiness. Fuck stressing yourself about Marriage. Fuck Advice Books from these unknowledgeable, untrained, uncultured, unqualified, imbiciles who are looking to make fast money by exploiting your naivete. Fuck all the people who try to tell you how to behave when they themselves have nothing to show for shit.
There is only one rule a smart person has: Learn from he who has that which you want.
Which means, if you're getting marriage advice, you better get it from the people who have the marriage YOU want. Not OTHER single people, or bitches that have been married THRICE and think that's some shit to be proud of. Get the Fuck outta here you feeble heaux. The vows involve FOR BETTER AND WORSE, I guess you just heard the "for better" part THREE TIMES IN A ROW huh?
So you want someone who will "love" you forever? That's not Marriage. Marriage doesn't require love. It requires signatures.
That is all!
HOLD THEEEEE FUUUUCCCCCCK UUUUUPPPPPPPP! TIME-OUT MOTHERFUCKERS TIME-THEFUCK-OUT!!!!
*blows whistle*
Now I'm going to address this bullshit, and God Bless the individuals who still spread this stupid shit.
I commend the individual who first figured out that desperately lonely women was a potential market. My God - where they right. How did we come to this? I ask.
It all began with recognizing that humans are social and sexual creatures. We NEED relationships. And some genius took that female brain, CONVINCED it to take responsibility for EVERY gahtdamnthing men FAIL at, HUMANS fail at - and carry that shit in our purses EVERYWHERE we go.
I digress. Let's talk about Marriage, an institution with the best PR I've ever seen. You're really going to read all these books and articles to convince you that it's YOUR fault you're not married, because marriage is this amazing thing that you should dedicate your life to experience.
And then you get married.
And then you realize that marriage is a glorified relationship.
And relationships suck. Ass.
I mean, why else are you single now?
Isn't it because you paid $50 for a .50 cent item?
And you think Husbands are some Wonderful Men don't you?
No. They're not.
They are just Men.
Like every other man you fucked and loved and then realized you can't do this shit for ONE more day with and broke up.
Or whatever.
People tell you, "your boyfriends suck because you suck". Then you go to all these dumbass classes, read all these dumbass books. Indeed. Change your life! Because there is a rumor about this Dream Man - who has a salary, with benefits, little to no debt, no kids, no baggage, sexy as hell, and who is faithful. Loyal. DEDICATED.
So you become this perfect female. For this "dream man" But guess what? Dream men are in your DREAMS.
If you want to change yourself for the better, I have two suggestions for who and what to do it for.
1. YOU
2. MONEY
No man will ever be good enough, Girl. Not a single human walks this planet without faults. So why theeeeee fuck are you contributing your time, your energy, your money, to making a good wife? And listening to all these UNQUALIFIED STRANGERS tell you how to play your cards?
As if being Married is something to be proud of? EVERYONE is married. UNHAPPILY married at that. Being Married ain't shit. Being rich? THAT'S some shit. Barely anyone I know is RICH. Damn near EVERYONE I know is married. That should tell you something. Everybody knows Valuable things aren't easily achieved. If anybody can do it, it ain't worth shit. Why do you think McDonalds pays minimum wage?
Single Ladies, Just look at these titles: Why men love bitches, why men MARRY bitches, your degree's won't keep you warm at night, he's just not that into you, Why you're not married, Act like a Lady Think like a man (he sold two million copies), Stuck on stupid, Ladies! Listen Up!...
Don't those Titles INSULT you? Your intelligence?
Shiiiit if someone told me I "could" earn TWO MILLION DOLLARS from shitting on men, I'd do it too. I would go Hard in the Paint on alot of shit. Incase you don't believe me I would go IN on the following;
1. Broke ass men
2. Late ass men
3. Over-Reaching ass men
4. Low Libido ass men
5. Short ass men
6. Asshole ass men
7. Whore ass men
8. Small Dick ass men
9. Insecure ass men
10. Unhealthy ass men
11. DESERVE respect without EARNING respect ass men
12. Men with MANGINA's ass men
13. UnCLEAN ass men
14. Unambitious ass men
15. Leachy ass men
16. "no-homo" ass men
17. One Minute ass men
18. Uncircumsized ass men (No. 18 is some REAL shit to me. Fuck do we get brazilians for when we can't get a clean working area too?)
19. Rude ass men
20. Dumb ass men
Must I go on? Because I can. And if I KNEW these dudes would eat all my shit up and buy it off of amazon.com- sheeeeiiiiit, I would DO IT!!
Moral of the story is, don't listen to the propaganda. Make sure you live your life for your happiness. Fuck stressing yourself about Marriage. Fuck Advice Books from these unknowledgeable, untrained, uncultured, unqualified, imbiciles who are looking to make fast money by exploiting your naivete. Fuck all the people who try to tell you how to behave when they themselves have nothing to show for shit.
There is only one rule a smart person has: Learn from he who has that which you want.
Which means, if you're getting marriage advice, you better get it from the people who have the marriage YOU want. Not OTHER single people, or bitches that have been married THRICE and think that's some shit to be proud of. Get the Fuck outta here you feeble heaux. The vows involve FOR BETTER AND WORSE, I guess you just heard the "for better" part THREE TIMES IN A ROW huh?
So you want someone who will "love" you forever? That's not Marriage. Marriage doesn't require love. It requires signatures.
That is all!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Thirsty Chronicles - Decapitation. Subject ONE.
Speaking of shit talkers, I met this boy at my girls party.
Biggest Shit-Talker of all time (dare I say the 21st century).
I'm not going to say he isn't attractive, but I knew it was doom for him from the jump because he looked too much like one of my ex's. I won't get into that though. All night, this boy was going on about how he uses women, how they pay his bills, how they stalk him at work... So I decided I'm gonna take it upon myself to out him... for the under cover sucker he is. I'm sorry, but... real recognize real... and he was looking real unfamiliar right then.
What I've learned from life is that shit talkers are too busy talking shit to get any REAL shit done. You prey on the weak and call yourself a predator huh? No hunny, you're a SCAVENGER. You eat meat that's BEEN dead. (Low self of steam for all those people who can't get past the metaphors) So let's see what you got. As a representative of the "TRY ME" female species... I HAD to do it. He was giving it away.
So. I matched his shit talking, ebonic for ebonic. But still gave more "attention" to his homie. Who is young and bright eyed. I have a thing for that 20 year old friend of his (who is just soooo adorable. I looooove adorable men and people who wear their hearts on their sleeves. Pre-shus!) The Shit-Talker ended up asking me to go outside to smoke. I said I don't smoke. He said come outside to WATCH him smoke (??). I said what the fuck do you take me for? (oh yea, this conversation was in front of everyone) He said we'll be in my car. I said I'd rather stay right here, thanks. Then later he came to hug me and asked to come home with me. I said no thanks, I'm good tonight.
Ladies and Gents... any proud man or woman would have stopped asking for alone time after I turned down 3 of his not-so subliminal messaging. But I digress.
The next time I saw him, my phone was cut off and I wasn't getting texts or calls. So I gave him my number while he demanded for it sitting next to me at another party. Knowing he wouldn't get through anyway. He apparently sent me texts telling me he's coming home with me blah blah blah. But because I never replied, and I left the party while he went to drop someone off - he called my ninja asking her the deal with me at like 8am the next morning. She hung up on him. I paid my bill two weeks later.
And Every Friday, like clockwork - he'd text me a red light special at the 11pm hour.
I would never respond.
The one night I was thirsty enough to try him out, we agreed he'd be at my house by midnight. By 12.45am, I decide to go to bed. I found out when I woke up the next day that at 4am, he was calling and texting me... incessantly... indeed - blowing up my motherfucking phone. The texts started from "I'm outside" and ended with a "You're wrong to not pick up my calls after I drove all this way. That's it. You're coming to me now." << I actually laughed a nice hearty laugh out loud, that he was mad at me, especially when he showed up 4 hours LATER than the hour discussed. Who in the hell does he think he is? As always, I didn't respond.
That day, in the preevening, I got a call from a local number I'd never seen before. I picked up. Guess who it was? He started with a shout,
"THOBE"
"Yes, motherfucker? Who is this?"
"It's _____!"
"Who's number is this _____? This is not your regular number."
"It's my work number. WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER YOUR DOOR WHEN I CAME OVER?"
I answered calmly and sternly (the only way to get through to a psycho, and or dangeroux animals) "Nicca. Did we or did we not say midnight? You come FOUR hours later and you actually think I'd be waiting... for You?
He apologized. He thought he was calling to shout at me and have me apologize?
Oh. So Young. So Damn Dumb.
That was about three months ago. He never stopped calling me or texting me, until about three weeks ago when on a Friday he sent me some of the saddest texts I've ever seen from a shit-talker .... "Can I see you? ... Please?" "Please?" << Yes. Comrades. Subject ONE had come down to his knees.
My mission was complete.
Anyone with pride will be proud to know he stopped contacting me AFTER he sent a text inviting me to his birthday party two weeks ago.
Ah. The sweet smell of ammunition.
Biggest Shit-Talker of all time (dare I say the 21st century).
I'm not going to say he isn't attractive, but I knew it was doom for him from the jump because he looked too much like one of my ex's. I won't get into that though. All night, this boy was going on about how he uses women, how they pay his bills, how they stalk him at work... So I decided I'm gonna take it upon myself to out him... for the under cover sucker he is. I'm sorry, but... real recognize real... and he was looking real unfamiliar right then.
What I've learned from life is that shit talkers are too busy talking shit to get any REAL shit done. You prey on the weak and call yourself a predator huh? No hunny, you're a SCAVENGER. You eat meat that's BEEN dead. (Low self of steam for all those people who can't get past the metaphors) So let's see what you got. As a representative of the "TRY ME" female species... I HAD to do it. He was giving it away.
So. I matched his shit talking, ebonic for ebonic. But still gave more "attention" to his homie. Who is young and bright eyed. I have a thing for that 20 year old friend of his (who is just soooo adorable. I looooove adorable men and people who wear their hearts on their sleeves. Pre-shus!) The Shit-Talker ended up asking me to go outside to smoke. I said I don't smoke. He said come outside to WATCH him smoke (??). I said what the fuck do you take me for? (oh yea, this conversation was in front of everyone) He said we'll be in my car. I said I'd rather stay right here, thanks. Then later he came to hug me and asked to come home with me. I said no thanks, I'm good tonight.
Ladies and Gents... any proud man or woman would have stopped asking for alone time after I turned down 3 of his not-so subliminal messaging. But I digress.
The next time I saw him, my phone was cut off and I wasn't getting texts or calls. So I gave him my number while he demanded for it sitting next to me at another party. Knowing he wouldn't get through anyway. He apparently sent me texts telling me he's coming home with me blah blah blah. But because I never replied, and I left the party while he went to drop someone off - he called my ninja asking her the deal with me at like 8am the next morning. She hung up on him. I paid my bill two weeks later.
And Every Friday, like clockwork - he'd text me a red light special at the 11pm hour.
I would never respond.
The one night I was thirsty enough to try him out, we agreed he'd be at my house by midnight. By 12.45am, I decide to go to bed. I found out when I woke up the next day that at 4am, he was calling and texting me... incessantly... indeed - blowing up my motherfucking phone. The texts started from "I'm outside" and ended with a "You're wrong to not pick up my calls after I drove all this way. That's it. You're coming to me now." << I actually laughed a nice hearty laugh out loud, that he was mad at me, especially when he showed up 4 hours LATER than the hour discussed. Who in the hell does he think he is? As always, I didn't respond.
That day, in the preevening, I got a call from a local number I'd never seen before. I picked up. Guess who it was? He started with a shout,
"THOBE"
"Yes, motherfucker? Who is this?"
"It's _____!"
"Who's number is this _____? This is not your regular number."
"It's my work number. WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER YOUR DOOR WHEN I CAME OVER?"
I answered calmly and sternly (the only way to get through to a psycho, and or dangeroux animals) "Nicca. Did we or did we not say midnight? You come FOUR hours later and you actually think I'd be waiting... for You?
He apologized. He thought he was calling to shout at me and have me apologize?
Oh. So Young. So Damn Dumb.
That was about three months ago. He never stopped calling me or texting me, until about three weeks ago when on a Friday he sent me some of the saddest texts I've ever seen from a shit-talker .... "Can I see you? ... Please?" "Please?" << Yes. Comrades. Subject ONE had come down to his knees.
My mission was complete.
Anyone with pride will be proud to know he stopped contacting me AFTER he sent a text inviting me to his birthday party two weeks ago.
Ah. The sweet smell of ammunition.
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