You're Blessed, Not Better
I was recently having a conversation with a young woman I met at Wayne State. I won’t try to act like I wasn’t all on her at first; as she’s very attractive, along with independent. As I started to listen to her though, I realized she was self-inflated to the point that she because ugly. I actually like conceited women and I love a woman who think she’s the shit, so it’s not that I had a problem with her confidence. It was more so the fact of why she thought she was better than “most” women…
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Do People Really Care Who You Used To F**k?
Who used to bend Beyonce over before Jay-Z? Who was making love to Gabrielle Union back in highschool? Who was eating Nikki Minaj’s box before she signed to Young Money? You probably don’t know and don’t care. I can’t blame you, as all that seems to matter now is who you’re currently sleeping with. Some men, including myself, have been known to glorify sexual accomplishments. “I fucked her, her, her, her, and her,” we’d say, mostly to each other as we lamely look for props or praise from those around us (personally, I don’t tell anyone about who I have sex with except Poitree and Ohio). I recently took a look at an old black book sheet from 2007 and I read the names and descriptions from women in my past, I wondered to myself, “yea I fucked her, and?”…
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My Favorite Hood Chick: Snoop
As I stated on facebook, I’d been a full 36 hours without sex. I refused to have sex again until it was with a woman with her own EVERYTHING and it had to happen at her house. I wasn’t in a rush for the sex part, I was just noticing that I was hitting way too many women in my backseat because they didn’t have their own place. After a few candidates failed the interview, I finally found the right one.
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5 Types Of Women I've Never Met, WHERE ARE YALL?
While there is no shortage of single, educated, working women in Michigan; certain types of women continue to elude me. It’s rather annoying to be honest, but as I look in the mirror, I’m sure that there are plenty of women wondering why they can’t find men of a much larger category. I’m not being picky here, or even suggesting that I’m looking for these things, I’m just curious if these women even exist. So if you’re out there, hit me up….
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I Wish Them All The Best
“I had a class with your ex. She’s married now, I saw her little pictures of whatever. I don’t know how you do it. I’d be mad if my ex got married. I don’t know how I’d feel about that,” she said sympathetically. That literally came out of nowhere, as I was laying down over one of my female associates apartments. She’s the second woman this week to wonder why I was so unmoved by the fact that all of my ex’s and most of my old mains are either married or engaged now. The answer: it was bound to happen. When you pick quality women, you know if you don’t marry them, eventually, the next man will. So I wish them all the best…
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The Punany Poets Pt. 2
We’re back in the room. I’m in the bathroom with a magazine, trying to drop a pound or two. She’s laying on the bed, half naked, listening to her ipod. I come out, wash my hands, and lay on the bed for a while to let everything settle. I cut off the tv, all but one light, and give her a look that let’s her know it’s time to exchange fuck faces. GREEN LIGHT.
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The Punany Poets Pt. 1
I got a call from Lala, the girl from “The Enterprise Mission” blog, telling me about the Punany Poets coming to Michigan. I’d seen them before on HBO and I’m into mature events like that, so I told her to pick up a ticket for me when she went to get hers and I’d give her the money back. “Excuse me?,” she responded, as if I’d just asked her to give me head on a public bus. I thought I was the clear the first time, but I repeated myself anyway. “No,” she said. “There’s no point in us going together if we’re paying for our tickets separately”. “That’s not a date, we’re not going as a couple, we might as well sit on different sides of the room.” What the fuck? As Freckles would say, that’s petty. I would have liked to go with her, but that immature foolishness led to my typical response, “no problem.” I’ll just go with someone else.
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