Ahhhhh Fuck...

I just wanted to show my appreciation and give a quick salute to the word FUCK. I just narrated the greatest story ever told to some friends and soon realized it wouldn't have been as well received, if it weren't for the word FUCK. It will be the only cuss word my future kids can get away with saying...can you imagine a six year telling a story using the word fuck? It would take the awesomeness of being a parent to a whole nother level.

So thank you FUCK for making my life fucking funny and dramatic!

(p.s did you know that "nother" isn't really a word unless used with the word whole? Interesting eh?)

FYI....

I was looking through a friend's vacation pics on Facebook and ran across this picture taken in a MIAMI nightclub. I'm sure this goes without saying but I'm going to do a public service announcement anyway....

For any man...who has a heart beat...this kind of FUCKERY is NEVER O-KAY...EVER.

And if you don't see the problem here, you need to be pushed in front of a bus immediately. IMMEDIATELY.

It's 1995 Bitches!!!!!!!

This post is a shout out to my childhood and the things that were dear to my heart when I was in 5th grade. I pretty much made fun of other kids that didn't have these things....I was a 9 year old bitch...what can I say! (I won't say BITCHES!!! after every item but I really want to...I'm just so excited.)

Starter Jackets

These were so popular back in the day I remember my school wanting to ban them because kids kept getting beat up for theirs. I stole my first Starter jacket (NBA Memphis Grizzlies) but claimed I found it. The teacher called my mom and I ended up having to give it back. I look back now and feel guilty cause my mom felt bad that I had to steal one to feel better about myself (that's the effing lie I told her so I wouldn't get in trouble) that she went and bought me a Chicago Bulls Starter! Having a Chicago Bulls Starter jacket in the 90's was like owning the freshest pair of Jordan's today. I went to school pointing at kids and then pointing at my jacket like "Fuck you!" "Fuck you!" "Fuck you!". Lol..it's terrible but completely true.

Mighty Morphing Power Rangers

I remember being pissed as shit riding home on the school bus because we had this handicapped kid that would ride our bus and when his chair lift got stuck some days it would cause me and my little brother to be late for Power Rangers that came on at 3:30 (that was a run on sentence but I don't care) Anyway, I really wanted to be the pink one because she was a gymnast but my brother would always say I was more like the yellow one cause I was a tomboy (I only really wanted to be the pink one cause the red and green rangers would fight over her but how do you explain that to 6 year old boy).

Five Star Trapper Keeper


Everyone at my school could tell if you were poor or not depending on if you had a Trapper Keeper. Period. (it was like a social class indicator for grade school) It cost $15 at Wal-Mart and I remember my mom having to put our school supplies on lay away in May so she could have them paid off by August, just in time for school. I didn't care though cause at the end of the day I had one.

Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Immature

If I knew what sex was at 9 I would have been out of control because these young men had my heart for real! JTT (Jonathan Taylor Thomas) was the HOT, white, sarcastic son on Home Improvement and Immature was a hip hop b0y band that were always featured in Teen Bop and Tiger Beat magazines. My best friend and I would plead, beg and cry for our parents to buy us these magazines because they had posters of these guys in them. Her and I would spend HOURS arranging and rearranging the posters on our bedroom walls.


Sega Genesis



Sonic the Hedge Hog was and still is the greatest game ever made. I'm not into all the new game systems that are out because my heart belongs to Sega. They also had this Simpson's game called Virtual Bart that was AWESOME....I found a website where you can download it for free...I've been playing it for like an hour.

http://www.gamefabrique.com/simpsons-the-virtual-bart.html

and last but not least it's....



POGS.....BITCHES!!!! (sorry)



Pogs were the most memorable thing from my childhood. I just called my brother to reminisce and we were on the phone for 40 mins, between the two of us we had 8 green tubes. No body really played the game cause you were too busy going through your friend's collection asking "You got this one foo? Aww you suck cause I do!" "I'll trade you 4 of these for that one!" But the mack daddy POG was the metal 8 ball Slammer...you couldn't tell me shit cause I had like 3 of them. Pogs ended up fizzling out cause they got banned from schools across the US and overseas. You were definitely a loser if you didn't have a Pog collection.

On the real tip...

The reason I decided to write a blog was so I could express myself 100%. I've talked about sex, men, and my laziness but this post is one where I speak from my heart and talk about my fears. My fear of life, success and failure (which I normally wouldn't confess to people).

I scared I'm going to typical. Ordinary. Conventional. That I'm gonna continue to bounce around from job to job (like I've been doing the last 4 years) because I get so bored in these 9-5 jobs that a new one seems to be a fix until it isn't anymore (if that makes any sense).

I'm an entrepreneur at heart but the businesses I've created in the past have fallen by the waste side because I didn't pursue them like I should. There are so many examples of people that have put their blood, sweat and tears into their businesses to make them successful and I'm wondering if I have what it takes to do the same.

Event production is what I love. Boutique openings, art festivals, and fashion shows are just some of the events I'm excited to do (I'm not going anywhere near club promotions or anything like that, I want to produce more intellectual events). Right now I'm in the middle of producing a photo shoot celebrating feminine women with tattoos and an Art in the Park festival but I'm having a hard time staying motivated. On the surface I'd call it laziness but these past few days I've really tried to be honest with myself and I think it's because I'm scared of success.

I try to pretend like other people's opinions don't affect me but since there are people expecting me to fail, I end up settling for the staus quo instead of working hard to prove them wrong (a quality I'm pretty ashamed of)

When I moved to Chicago, Sep 2009, I didn't have a job, an apartment or any type of family support that lived in the city...I knew no one. If I hadn't of left my hometown when I did, despite the people that told me not too, I never would have found the courage to do it later in life. Once I got to town, I lived in my car with my dog for 2 months until I saved enough money (from a waitress gig) to move in to my own flat. Then after hitting the pavement hard, I finally landed an interview with a company I'd worked for previously. It didn't go well but for some reason I didn't take it laying down (which is totally out of character for me, I usually back down after the first no) and I got old colleagues from the company to write me letters of recommendations. After locking down 5 influential letters I was hired in January 2010 and moved into my downtown loft in February 2010.

My mom says I DO have the drive and the last couple of months are prime examples of it, but to me, I had no other options. I either failed here and moved back home with my head hung low, or I succeed. It was do or die.

I've been told that the most successful people are readers, so I'm currently reading all these biographies of self made people to help me stay motivated. It's a challenge though and I'm still very such scared of my success and of my failures. However, I will continue to pray so God can give me the strength, courage and persistence I need to get to where I want to be. After all He is in the driver seat and I don't want to be anywhere He's not present.

Much love....

The only title I could think of was asian invasion...

So I'm sitting here watching Ninja Assassin and I almost hate myself writing this but why can't I ever be the cute black chick that gets saved by the handsome Asian guy? I mean seriously! What's a girl gotta do? I'll start hanging out in empty warehouses! I'll go out and buy a Honda and wear a leather jacket everywhere...I swear! Aaliyah got to do it, that chick from Rush Hour 3 got too and now this Ninja Assassin girl...why couldn't I?

Every girl wants to be rescued, which I know is our problem all together, but I just want to experience one of them Kung Fuing their way through a ninja army just to reach me on the other side and say in a low raspy voice "Let's go". Only in the moment though cause I couldn't imagine years from now my ninja lover asking me to pass the salt in the same voice. That's creepy. While I'm 25 though...that's hot. I know I probably wouldn't enjoy sleeping with them cause their dicks are too small (which I'm now starting to realize I'm a dick racist...I gotta work on that). I even realized I had these same fantasies when I was 8 years old, hence the picture of the hot Asian lieutenant from Disney's Mulan. Ahh the dreams we carry with us from childhood to adulthood.....

Okay...I take that all back...the black girl just got stabbed in the heart by the Ninja Master! Ouch...I've never seen that before. Maybe I should give this fantasy a second thought.

Oh never mind! The hot Asian lover healed her from just touching her left breast (my kind of healing) so count me back in! Bring on Ninja Assassin 2 and I'll keep my fingers crossed.....

I'm a piece of shit worker and here's why....

I lease apartments in a high raise building downtown. My job for the most part is simple. I'm supposed to follow up with client leads, mass e-mail details about the apartments and take people on a tour of the building when they get here. In addition, I'm responsible for the daily tasks needed to make the building run smoothly, work orders, resident complaints and so on. For the most part, I feel like a caged bird, except the times I get to work on what I really have a passion for. Event production via community out reach and marketing opportunities (Double fist pump)...my dream job! Plus, I get paid to gain experience and contacts so in the near future I can start doing my own events on the side...score!

As of right now though, my next 2 events are pretty such planned and I'm awaiting clearance for the next one, an Art in the Park festival that will take place in June, from corporate and they always take forever to respond. I'm like the kid in class that picks his nose and flicks it at the other kids because he gets his work done fast and has time left over to cause trouble. Basically, I'm not challenged enough (which technically is not my fault!)

I spend most of my day reading blogs, posting on my blog and looking at meaningless things on the Internet, then when I get off, I go upstairs to my apartment (yes I live in the same building I work from but I'll go into more details about that later), change into my Victoria Secret sweats and go back down to the office to do the 30 mins of work I acquired over the course of my 8 hour work day.

But what I discovered is I'm just a better employee when I wear sweats! Seriously! If I could wear sweats I would be fucking Bojangles towards our residents and clients. The best fucking employee ever! Do you know I'm 4 mins late EVERY single day (I know, I can't believe I still have this job either). I have to be to work at 9, so I wake up at 8:30 (yes 8:30), take a shower, curl my hair, and put on my make-up all with in 15 mins. The last 15 mins are spent staring at my closet trying to figure out with outfit would piss me off the least if I put it on. Now don't get me wrong, I give lots of thanks to my salary that allows me to buy fierce work clothes, but at the end of the day I'm just more comfortable in sweats.

It's not like I wear sweats from Wal-mart! My sweats cost at least $60 for the tops alone so I really don't think I'd be offending anyone if I wore them. Plus, the residents come down to talk to me in their sweats and I highly doubt they could give two shits what kind of outfit I had on when they were cussing me out.

Google allows their employees to wear sweats! I swear! They even let them bring their dogs to work and has this room in the building that has hoola hoops, slushy machines and bean bags because they found it created a more productive work environment! What the fuck! I mean I understand professionalism but that really is a state of mind and I'm shocked that this hasn't caught on yet.

Whatevs, we "apparently" only have 21 months until 2012 when the whole world is supposed to go down anyway so I guess I can ride out the hatred of business casual clothes til then.

White boys I love...

Since I have a phobia called Pink-is Dick-osis, I haven't really had the chance to date a white guy but I'd like to. While I've been told a white man wouldn't possibly be able to keep up with my sexual appetite (which is funny cause neither can black guys) I think it would be kinda cool to experience. Anyway...these are the white guys I could see myself falling for...or at least have a good time with (we'll have to work on fucking later, perhaps approach my phobia like they would someone with a fear of dogs....be in the same room as one, let it smell my hand, talk to it softly while petting it slowly on the head, etc.)

Dwight Schrute

The Office (NBC)

If you're intellectual enough to watch the office and get the dry humor,

you'll know why Dwight is on my list...he's hilarious.

Kellan Lutz

Twilight (I'm not a "twihard", I'm a Harry Potter fan...Twilight can suck it)

Kellan's Calvin Klein ad should speak for itself...plus he loves dogs.

Jeff Shroeder
Big Brother 11 (CBS)

He's the hot college frat boy kind of guy, plus his mid-west accent is so attractive.

David Beckham
Soccer player

Soccer players are hot period, but this man's fashion sense is what I look for
in the men I meet....the fact that he has tattoos doesn't hurt either (as my friend Steph would say...he makes my chick dick hard. No...you know what? Now that I've actually used that phrase, I think that'll be the last time, it's a little crude...even for me.)

Owen Hunt
Grey's Anatomy (ABC)

What girl doesn't love a man in a uniform (that's how The Joke-ster got me, damn him).

Senior Chang
Community (NBC)

He's not white but if I were to ever date an Asian it'd be him. This guy is so funny...the way he talks to his students could easily set him up to be sued but he doesn't give a shit. He's a straight douche and I love it.

Atom Da Bomb...

As you guys can see by now...I come up with nick names for past, present and future men in my life. So far I've introduced you to Dreads, PYT and The Joke-ster, but this is the first time you'll be introduced to Atom whose full name is Atom Da Bomb. Lol...loves it.

Atom is my sexual Adonis. No seriously, this man could probably get me to do anything he wanted. ANYTHING. All he has to do is text me and I'm wet and horny. Whenever I touch myself or even if I'm in the company of another man, I'm usually thinking of Atom. Would Atom touch me like this? Would my body respond to Atom like it is with this guy? It's probably an awful thought for the other guy but egh...that's life. Atom is just shy of 6ft, 205 lbs, caramel and physically built, a leisure basketball player (not sure of his position though, maybe shooting guard/power forward). I'm pushing 140 lbs, 5' 2" (my mom calls me Brick House) and he lifts me with ease....swoon. I should point out though that The Joke-ster has been the only man who's ever made me cum during sex (probably cause his dick was perfection, but his moves were mediocre, which to me is a more hurtful adjective)...Atom has yet to do that but I'm very confident it'll happen.

I think my attraction to Atom is that he handles me with confidence and he takes his time. He knows that my body responds to him quickly so he never second guesses what he says to me and the actions he uses. He never gets excited like "Yay I'm about to get laid, let me hurry before she changes her mind." stuff I've experienced with other men. Which is why, in that moment, I did change my mind (they didn't get laid...lol) I'm very much in the woman role when he's around but I also feel comfortable being sexually aggressive because I know it won't intimidate him. I love knowing the things I do to him make him go just as crazy as he makes me. He'll touch me everywhere except the place I want him to, while positioning himself unknowingly between my thighs. He'll make me beg and as soon as he touches me where I want him too, he'll also enter me with direct force. It's...(deep breath)...it's pretty amazing what he's capable of doing to me and vice versa. He likes when I talk in his ear, put his dick inside me myself, and take him off guard when I squeeze my Kegel muscles to show physical proof that he gets me to heights no one else can.

I had a dream last night of an old sexual escapade of ours and it went a like this...(I came during my dream by the way...yeah my memories of him are pretty powerful)

I was driving to Atom's house when I got a text from him. My heart kinda dropped cause I was hoping he wasn't canceling. I had already gone through all the steps a girl does to prepare for sex....shaving, trimming, lingerie and outfit coordination and choice of heels (fuck me heels to be exact, there are times when I'm not as elaborate but in my dream I was).

The text read: "Already hard and waiting...." (Another reason why sex with him is so good, we're really good about creating sexual tension prior to meeting. Most of the time its racy texts like this...simple and to the point...panty soakers. )

Because of my anxiousness I started to fumble as I half put my car in park and half opened my door. I literally could not get to this man fast enough. As I climbed the stairs I put on my cool, calm and collected swag. I knocked softly at the door and started to take deep breaths as I waited. Atom open the door in my all time favorite outfit a guy could wear....grey Nike sweats and an A-Shirt. HEAVEN.

I was about to say hey but my salutation was lost because in one fluid motion he had closed the door, pulled me to him and started to kiss me. It was forceful but direct. Leaning with his back against the door and his hand behind my neck, this man sexed my mouth DOWN. Steady, long strokes with his tongue and brief nips of his mouth with my teeth (he loves that). He's hands had found their way to the spot where my ass and waist meet. Both hands followed my curves around and cupped my ass from below. Lifting me off the ground he switched our places, with my back now against the door (my favorite location for sex) he propped his knee between my legs and against the door, creating a spot for me to sit. He held me in place with one hand while the other hand found the inside of my knee. He circled the inside of my knee and slowly traveled up the inside, making an effort to not touch my panties, while his mouth moved from mine to my neck just below my ear. At that point all I could do was moan his name and beg for him to touch me between my thighs, the only verbal communication we had exchanged since I got there.

All of a sudden he stopped and looked around, someone had come out their apartment but were taking the main stairs down and away from us. He started opening the door so we could retreat inside but I didn't want too. I looked behind him, made up my mind and led him by the hand to the back stair well. There was a large window that over looked a grassy area but no one would be walking that at night so for the most part it was a discreet location. I climbed about half way up the stairs before sitting down and pulling him on top me. I opened my legs and used my hand to show his fingers exactly where I wanted to be touched. He smiled because he knew I wasn't playing and pushed my panties aside. I brought his head down to mine as he inched two fingers inside of me. I ended up leaning my head back against the stairs because it felt so good.

Deciding I was ready for him, he retracted his fingers out of me but before he could do anything, I lifted his fingers to my mouth and licked them clean. Shocked and very turned on he stripped my panties off and stuck them in his side pocket (I don't know why but that turned me on to see my panties hanging half outside his pocket) I told him I needed him bad so he responded by telling me to turn around and stick my ass out. I lifted my dress and followed his directions, showing him all of what was his. His left hand grabbed his dick out his sweats while his right hand rubbed my ass before giving it a quick but hard smack (I LOVE getting my ass smacked). He slowly rubbed his head against my wetness asking quietly if I wanted it now? I braced my arm out against the stairs telling him yes, but he responded by saying he wasn't ready. I reached behind me to touch him but he smacked my ass again to keep me in line. I looked at him run his hands over his face, I guess he really was preparing himself. I opened my mouth to say something but before i could he entered me swiftly from behind with one nice, long, hard stroke. (The perfect moment of sex for me is the first entry. I had been waiting for that moment since we set up plans to meet. That's what I meant when I said he takes his time. The first full stroke is the ecstasy of sex. )

Anyway he took me right there on the stairs, fully clothed. We were hot, sticky and sweaty before we changed positions and finished with him settled between my legs while I kissed his neck
.
Once we were done we eventually made it back in the apartment and did it twice more...once on the couch and once while eating pizza on the kitchen counter.

--

Men some advice for you...to this very day, I still can't remember how big Atom's dick is. I mean size does matter, but if you can create an atmosphere where a girl can't even remember, much less give a shit about how big you are, then the sex is amazing. Period. I know people say great sex for women is all about emotions but if you noticed Atom and I didn't exchange not one full sentence. Words don't matter.

Okay, that was a long post and after reading it again and again looking for corrections, I'm in the mood to touch myself....lol.

Catch cha on the flip side.

This is bullshit...

Life isn't fair. I totally understand that but as I've started my pre-spring and summer work outs I've realized something. I work hard for my body and the way I present myself to others. Like hard. During the winter months, I'll let myself eat whatever but once it starts getting close to the summer months I work my ASS off to look good.

Men seem to respond to my bum A LOT, to them its shapely and has the right amount of firmness. I'm not sure what my ass to waist ratio is but what I don't like about myself I try and change naturally with work outs and a healthy diet (I'm a vegetarian).

Anyway, what I'm getting at is the fact that it's not fair that there's women out there that rely on Photoshop and cosmetic surgery to further their looks. I mean I understand it but to a girl that works hard for her body, it's considered cheating. I think I could easily sacrifice the money to get these procedures done but I'd rather be natural.

Men, it would be like you going to the gym, lifting weights, drinking those gross protein shakes and the man lifting next to you, same body build and everything, getting the same amount of attention from the ladies has calf and chest implants.

Am i really supposed to believe that all these Hispanic women who are known to have sloppy butts are now "naturally" coming out the wood works with asses like Angel Lola Luv (even her shit is amped up). And men aren't smart enough to tell the difference! I had a WHITE friend who got a Brazilian Butt Lift and the same guys we knew in college are now like "Damn she's been eating soul food and doing squats...her ass is fat...it looks like yours!" And in my head I'm thinking...that's bullshit, she FREAKING cheated!

Caught in booty shorts...fuck. (update)

So I had to go to semi-formal event for work last night so I looked really cute! Make-up was flawless, dress and heels were bangin and hair was long and flowin, I mean I even had white men breaking their neck for a peek.

Anyway, I was just coming out my door when Dreads was coming out of his to take his dog on a walk. (My stomach is starting to flip flop when I see him. NOT because I like him but because I’m still quite embarrassed) His apartment is really close to the elevators so I was hoping he’d be on one by the time I got there. I heard the elevator say “Going down.” and I thought I was in the clear.

Nope! It was actually really cute because his gorgeous white dog popped his big head around the corner to look at me like “hurry up woman....we're waiting!” When I approached the elevator the siren was going off because Dreads was blocking the door with his (fine ass) body…

Apparently he was holding it for me. (My heart did a little “ahhh...!” but I shut that shit down quick.) I said a quiet “Thanks.” and we rode the elevator together in silence like we usually do.

His nickname is now Semi Douche-Bag Magee because it was kind of sweet that he was holding it for me…it took me like 2 minutes to get there.

Whatever though.

Judgy Wudgy Was a Bear

I’m a Christian and I judge people…A LOT. It gets me through my weekdays and it makes my life a little brighter. I know what you’re thinking, Christians aren’t supposed to judge but I’ve figured out why my judgment is okay with God.

I judge people based on traits that won’t keep them out of heaven. Like this kid above. God may judge this little boy based on if he was a bully or if he killed someone by sitting upon them…I judge him based on his love for Alf, the camel toe effect of his shorts and the fact that I KNOW for damn certain, he’ll never be able to fit his whole fat, kid size lunch in that itty, bitty, ass lunch box. See! It works out! We all win!

Call me the Light Skinned Bandit...

So I had a recent conversation with this light skinned guy (we’ll call him PYT…Pretty Young Thing) I used to talked to six months ago and it went like this.

PYT: Hey I was just thinking about you!

Me: Were you?

PYT: Yeah I kinda miss you.

Me: Do you?

PYT: Yeah! I got a new phone but I did something bad.

Me: Did you?
(P.S. it is NEVER a good sign guys, when you're talking to a girl and the only way she's participating in the conversation is by asking questions. NEVER A GOOD SIGN.)

PYT: I didn’t program your number.

ME: Oh my.

PYT: I know! Can you give it to me again?

Me: What did you need it for?

PYT: So I can call you!

Me: Oh okay…If you’re going, we’ll talk about this at Nali’s art show on Friday.

PYT: Here I’ll give you my number just in case***-***-**** call me okay? I want to hear your voice.

(I didn’t respond)

Now all throughout high school it seemed athletic, light skinned guys were the finest guys in school. The guy I had a crush on my freshmen year was Trevor Oxley…cute smile…curly top fade and played power forward on the Varsity basketball team (see that’s what little I knew, no body falls in love with the power forward! It’s like falling in love with a Tim Duncan....blah…nuff said).

As I grew in to my body and got smarter about men I realized I’m IN LOVE with milk chocolate men, like my panties are always wet kind of love. I may occasionally talk to light skinned guys but the only thing they’re good for is an ego boost for me and a pink dick and THAT’S GROSS.

PYT and I used to work in a restaurant together and one time BBQ sauce got poured in my hair! He was so sweet though, he took me to the bathroom and washed my hair out for me. He was tender, never wanting to hurt me and asking if he was pulling too hard. See while that really kindhearted that’s exactly how he treated me in bed and it was boring! I’ve only had sex with two really handsome light skinned guys and I only did it once with each cause it was just awful. It was with the lights off cause I was scared they might have earth worms colored dicks between their legs (the ones that are on the sidewalk after it rains…yeah those aren’t pretty). Realizing I was balancing my checkbook in my head both times I patted these guys on the shoulder and said I wanted to stop because I was sore. We were doing it missionary style! Since that’s the least freaky position anyone can do, I felt bad for lying but I was REALLY bored.

I love sex, not the whore kind of sex though, where I can do it with anyone and still get pleasure. No I love the, everything about this man has had me wet since he picked me up and if he doesn’t touch me I’m gonna die kind of sex and I only get that way with gorgeous chocolate toned men.

Oh well, I guess I’ll keep leaving my Zorro sword mark on these light skinned guy’s hearts since they keep falling in love with me. All really is fair in love and war.

Caught in booty shorts...fuck.

Okay so….men find me attractive. In my opinion, there’s A LOT of things I’d wish to change about myself, but judging from the amount of times I get hit on, I can, with confidence, call myself an attractive woman.

Now. There’s a man who lives on my floor who is really attractive…let’s call him Dreads. He’s from the Caribbean so picture Tye Diggs (How Stella Got Her Groove Back) a little taller, honey complexion, neatly done dreads and tattoos. Yum…right!

I’m not attracted to him though.

Why am I not attracted to him?

Cause he’s a straight douche. HE REFUSES TO TALK TO ME….he doesn’t even say hi! I haven’t initiated conversation because I shouldn’t have to! I’m the girl and I’m not trying to come across bold. It’s not even the lack of conversation that makes him a douche. This one time both of us were awkwardly waiting for the elevator IN SILENCE and when the elevator arrived he let me get on by myself and opted to wait for another one because he didn’t want to ride with me! We live on the same floor! Whatevs, he looks like he may have acne scars on his face anyway so I don’t care.

Last night however, I experienced an extremely embarrassing incident involving Dreads. I had just got done washing my hair and need to take my trash out. I threw on the first two things I saw, a sky blue tank top and lime green booty shorts (keep in mind my hair is still slicked back wet)…I looked a hot mess. I did second guess my choice of outfit but I wasn’t walking that far so I went with it.
I remember dragging the trash bags behind me but one got stuck so I ended up going out my door ass first. My last thoughts were please God don’t let anyone see me, especially Douche-bag Magee. Getting ONE step out my door I soon realize there were sounds of footsteps in the hallway. Turning my head, I see that Dreads was so close to me I could see the whites in his eyes.

Okay so remember when I said this man was attractive? I take is back...he is fione! He had on grey sweat bottoms and no shirt (I'm wiping my drool) and then to top everything off he has tattoos...like 6...on his chest, his forearms(my favorite) and his shoulders. In the moment I had an orgasm and panicked at the same time.(I’m so embarrassed right now it’s hard for me to even type cause the next part is awful). I reacted by saying “Oh Fuck!” while running back in my apartment and slamming the door to hide.

(silence)

Really?!....Seriously?!.....Reacting like a 12 year old girl is so far from who I am cause I’m usually calm, cool and collected around men. There are no words left to say and I have no explanation for you. I looked a hot, tranny mess and I’m forever mortified to see Dreads again. FUCK.

Background checks made easy....

Don't Date Him Girl's title should speak for itself. It's where angry and hurt women go a post pictures of their asshole exes and get to write a bio of their experiences with the guy. Most of the posts are the same "he cheated...he's a liar...he's crazy.." but this one stuck out and I'd like to share it with you. There some areas I find disturbing...read it and let's compare our notes later....here goes.

Lance Testa "Jake, Michael, Daniel, Alexander, last name Guyear"

"I met Lance on Craigslist in August of 2009. At first, he seemed rather boring and so I didn't pay much attention to him. But as he started coming out of his shell we began talking more and more. We began dating, and I found out that he was a con man. He promised those days were behind him and like an idiot I believed him. About two months into our relationship, I found out he was schizophrenic. Three months into our relationship, he started hurting me during sex. Then, he no longer tried to mask it with rough sex and starting beating me outright. He would fly into rages, and be completely irrational until the mood passed...."

This testament goes on about all the legal battles she went through because of this guy but I find it pointless because everything I needed to know about him was told to me in the first 3 sentences.

Point #1: Craigslist...really? Because the best dating pool America has to offer is on Craigslist.
Point #2: Con Man? I...Why?...Who?...I'm speechless! Who would continue to talk to a man who comes out the Con Man closet?! Any lie he told you was totally relevant cause he told you up front who he was! You just didn't bother to listen.
Point #3: Schizophrenics are tricky. I'm not saying they don't deserve to be loved but there should've definitly been some strong apprehension to continue dating him.
Point #4: HE STARTED HURTING ME DURING SEX?! So stop seeing him!
Problem #5: Now he's beating her outright. I'm not advocating abuse but this is a very important lesson to learn....People tell you who they are and it's your job to be intuitive and listen! If they are explaining their past and say they were a professional liar then they are! They may be sincere in telling you it's over and done with but they're more than likely lying to themselves.

Anyway...Just thought I'd share. I might actually use Don't Date Him Girl as a background check for anyone I date in the future.

Pshhhhh Please....

Okay I'm done with this shit. Like for real. I find it funny when men in relationships give me advice on how to “get wifed up”. First off, that's not the greatest, most unselfish gift a man could give a woman. It's an orgasm. And no, giving them the whack ass baby mama title IS NOT the same. But honesty, if that was a life-long goal of mine,to be wifed up, I would have been married six times by now to pretty decent men. Educated. Well off. Driven. (but their swag wasn't interesting enough for me to want to check out the sex game and I will not even think about marrying you if you're not laying the pipe, so....)

No though, it’s not my tattoos, sharp tongue or frank personality that “keeps” me from being a wife, (I’ve found those attributes are well received while knocking the boots anyway) it’s the fact that I’ve chosen not to be someone's wife. Sure the man I almost married and deemed *“the one” turned out to be a fucking joke (he will always have the little red, laser dot on his forehead from my invisable S.W.A.T gun, but my faith in Jesus has prevented me from pulling the trigger...for now) but that doesn’t make me bitter or cynical about relationships, it makes me wiser and more self-aware.

To future male, self proclaimed, relationship "advisers" (who's ulterior motive seems to be getting me in bed...his wife is a LUCKY lady)I suggest giving single men the advice on how to keep a woman like me interested in even dating him, let alone marrying his ass. And like I said, regardless of the “mentoring” man’s marital status, IF I really wanted to,IF I REALLY WANTED TO, all I’d have to do is strategically bend at the waist to show my ass or blow in his ear the right way to have him forgetting he was in a relationship at all. Because as history has taught us (Tiger Woods), in the heat of the moment, who seems to carry more power, the wife or the other woman?

*You'll soon learn that I give the men in my life nick names. The last man I has feeling for is mentioned above but his nickname is The Joke-ster because I google "top 5 villians of all time" and The Joker from The Dark Knight was present in all the results. There was a quote from Alfred too that said "...some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn." and that's a perfect description of this man's actions during our 2 year, 6 month engagement. Whatever though...God and good and He brought me out of it. Now...all is well!

Whud Up Yo.....

I'm 25, a female, a Libra and I'm tired of keeping my mouth shut all the freaking time. I cuss, I'm not a hoe but I LOVE good sex, I have 12 ladylike tattoos and this is where I'm going to unleash all my thoughts, life questions and be completely me. Forewarning #1 means I'm warning you up front...I DON'T CARE if what I say offends you. If you don't like it...tuff, if I misspell a word..it might be on purpose so don't leave a snarky comment thinking you're being witty, your thoughts don't concern me unless they are agreeing with me. I use run on sentences, I like gossip magazines and I masturbate every other day. That's right! I'm sexually disciplined but I'm not a prude. My life is basically plateauing at this age anyway, losing weight has now become a science class i'm failing, my job is a basic 9-5 and it was more fun dating when I was 21. Anyway, without giving up everything in the first post....it's nice to meet you....this should be a fun ride....oh and did I mention I'm a Christian?