Boo hiss

So a friend of mine starts tryna play matchmaker and tells me I should try Getting to know a guy friend of hers. Im hesitant but open to seeing what might could possibly happen seeing as how my feminine wiles are nonexistent * moment of silence for my game that never was*

Then she sends me a picture of dude.
*insert screeching halt* Im no longer sure if i should call this bum my friend any longer.

Man is 5'5" if that, balding, and just...no *side eye + grimace*

I call this 'friend' like
Heifa do you even know me?
Her response: I know you're fucking single!

Ha. Touché
Well played


Well played



I swear I'm not picky
However, I've got standards dammit



I'd like to have someone reasonable actually enter my vagina before I turn 30

I'd like to get those fluttering butterfly shits that y'all people claim y'all get
(except I wantem to be pterodactyls cause they're badass)

It's cold and snowing outside and I wanna burrow beneath bountiful man bosom er uh
Whatever
You know what I mean

*goes to see if Rick Ross is currently occupied*

High top fade or nah?

Big chopped...again. Lol
This is the result of being Bored and looking at pictures of fabulous twa's.
Head feels so much damn lighter.
Thinking about experimenting with color
Maybe burgundy. Yo no se.
Yes yes that is the ubiquitous side eye and yes I do take entirely too many damn pictures of my damn self.

Nigga please

Had conversations with two friends this week who enlightened me on their first impressions of me and...im not amused. Lol. I am not a bitch. Im just socially awkward as fuck (uh lets just say developing socialization skills are hard when you're busy getting your ass kicked. Dont ask. Actually. Ask and ill tell you all about it) and That face i make, yoo it's just my face. I wake up looking like that. I'm not a big smiler. Habit I picked up after years of wearing braces, but I laugh with ridiculous abandon. I swear I'm not an asshole...all the time. Even when I am, it's fake assholery (yes. It's a word 'cause I say so) sprinkled with fairy dust and unicorn piss. So if you see me in the corner grimacing while everyone about me is laughing n shit, remember that that is my normal face and if you wanna say hi, do it and save me from my awkward black girl syndrome. remember I'm more afraid of you than you are of me.

Status I posted on Facebook the other day.


But then someone had to show their ass in my comments


Arthur:
"Well, I've noticed how women and some men will say "I'm not this or I'm not that" and most of the time their friends will ALWAYS agree...For instance, I'm a good person and yet you've quarentined me for NO reason whatsoever when unlike most men who see you as just a sex object, I've always attempted to get to know you...So, my impression of you based on how you treat my attempts at simple conversation is not good....As I said, your "friends" will mostlikely co-sign most of your self assessments because they're your friends...A last example is this...I'm a very social person who engages with anyone on a casual level if they are not crazy and are respectful...Ppl who ONLY interact with already established friends are not neccessarily social; not all the time...I'm not shitting on you persay, but I'm just like "okay, I'm not made of money but I'm attractive, intelligent, conversationalist, respectful and yet she doesn't even engage with me whatsoever" its
sad really...We never had to "date" but we could atleast chat on a friendly level and who knows, maybe you'd end up liking me...So, amidst your friends posting that you're not a "bitch/difficult" or what have you...I'm here to just give a neutral impression of you



Me:
There goes the neighborhood. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Negro, How you finna take what's supposed to be my attempt at vying for friendship and make it about you? Lol. In the vain of assholery sprinkled with fairy dust and unicorn piss, here goes. When I first met you at that fraternity party you spoke maybe three sentences to me the whole night. What you did do was spend hours talking to Adream. Understandably, I was a little weirded out when you asked for my number at the end of the night. Even more so when I found out you had spent a substantial part of that conversation extolling the virtues of my female form. ( how ironic. You definitely would never see me as just a sex object tho and lets be clear, you wish i only came across as that one dimensional. Im a sex object with a fabulous personality. Dont play me) but you know what, you seemed a nice enough guy, even if a little er um different. You asked me out after we spoke on the phone a few times.
Asked me what I wanted to do and I made it painfully easy. Movies and McDonalds. Yes. No 200 dollar dates here. That fucking easy. Movies and McDonalds. You later informed me that you had just done groceries n that wasn't doable (even though you had purchased a game system a few days prior). You suggested a walk along the South Street Seaport. Romantic sure, if I knew who you were, liked you already, and didn't mind strolling past restaurants in full view of heifas who could actually get a man to purchase them a meal, on the first date. I may be crazy here but that didn't sound too appealing. But my lonely, bored ass ( despite being lonely and bored) knew not to head 45 minutes out of my way to subject myself to that. I did not feign any manner of injury. Simply suggested we meet up at Target and chat because I still had hope that personality would trump all. You were a nice enough guy I guess (homophobic rant, bad mouthing ex-girlfriends, pointing out
the plethora of females who found you attractive and bland conversation aside) I left Target that evening confident in the fact that we wouldn't be dating and probably wouldn't be friends either. ( my friends know better than to hang around when I'm on an empty stomache ). This is not to say that you're not a decent guy and it's definitely not to say that I'm not an asshole. I'm adept at that shit. It's just to say that that's life. Let me let you in on a secret. This year I tried to get to know three guys romantically. They all looked me up and down, said No Thank You and moseyed on down Never Ever Gonna Get It Lane. I moved on. Okay maybe I went home, drunkenly applied lipstick, put on my highest heels, made soda can hair rollers and belted out Beyonce's Why Don't You Love Me but that's beside the point. I couldn't make them see me as I saw me. I think what you need is closure, so here it is. I release you. Go find her. That someone who finds you as
attractive, funny, intelligent, charismatic and as compassionate as you seem to think you are. I will try to find the man who finds me sexier than Halle Berry. I think we're both gonna need luck on our journeys.

Arthur:
"As stated...friends will more often than no ALWAYS co-sign for there friends with only a few exceptions...I'm not saying you're a bad person OR a good person, I personally don't know either way, but it sucks that I wasn't givin the chance to know either way...Usually posts like these are all about self reassurance "I'm not this particular way, I'm a nice person" and ofcourse ppl will say "yes you are a good person" I'm used to ppl who keep it real regardless of the friendship...perhaps you have a few of those friends, perhaps not, I don't know....Its like you showcase your body a lot on here and wherever else so MOST men are gonna be like "she fine" "I wanna hit that" etc etc all the while you try to showcase this air of intelligence lol!! Well, to someone who would like to know what's behind the ass, thighs, tits you give no chance so its not a good look... "


Me:
Arthur, my friends are assholes who could care less about Cosigning and find a way to take me down a peg every chance they get.Wouldn't have it any other way. This Madonna/whore confusion you got going on is treatable. I can infact showcase breasts, hips, ass and manage to walk upright, string two sentences together and read and write. Astonishing I know.

Arthur: "Well well well...I asked for your number. Because I felt that you and I could talk...My apologies for meeting you when my circumstances were not up to par but I still tried...Now you mentioned "Homophobic conversation" lmfao!! A phobia is a fear of something...I don't fear gay ppl...I don't agree with that lifestyle choice as I know its a chemical imbalance scientifically speaking...But each to there own...As for my "ex-girlfriend" talk? Well, YOU did ask me the question and I answered...simple as that, maybe I shouldve lied and told you rosy stories; sorry :( then the arrogance part where I SUPPOSEDLY spoke highly of myself?? Well, forgive me for being confident in my looks, it wasn't always like that as I was once VERY shy...all in all, my character depth as a person throws you off because while you may be intelligent in your own right I can match and depending on the topic; exceed your level so that didn't appeal to you much...We didn't have to "date" persay as I knew my situation was not fit for that kind of arrangement
BUT, I can be an amazing friend that has insight into many things and my "situation" is only temporary...But, regardless of the fact, you and I couldve atleast been cool...Hell, even times when I randomly saw you in the street you acted as tho I done wrong to you...sighs...females...."

Me: Look. Bands don't make me dance. (Unless they're weddings bands from Tiffany's ) I obviously still tried to get to know you even after it became apparent that it wasn't a dream date. There was nothing there. I'm not obligated to be your friend or anything else.you coulda took me on a 200 dollar date, looked like Will Smith and laid down ur coat over a puddle for me to walk over and I'd still be under no obligation to be your friend. That is how this life works. Just wasn't that into you. You will find that that can infact happen. Trust me. I've been there *shimmies away*

Arthur:
"You tried to get to know me?? Hmm okay...and I am fully aware that nobody is "oblidged" to do anything but I'd figure (my fault) that a woman like yourself would appreciate knowing someone that is intelligent and ambitious, nothing serious, just friendship...Obviously, I was wrong..."


Me: We sat and spoke for a few hours and we'd had a few conversations prior to that. I figure that's enough to know if we'd be friends or anything else. Lest I be a bitch, You did seem like a decent enough guy. (no serial killer tendencies) Our personalities did not sync up at all. I do know quite a few ambitious and intelligent folk. Doesn't scare me. I wish you nothing but the best man



Why are folk trying me?

Truth be told, It took all i had not to get in his ass...the way i wanted to

His essay had nothing to do with me really. It was entirely about his ego. This "date" took place a year and a half ago. Seen this negro in the streets three times since then. Every time he found a way to whine about why we weren't together. I honestly wish i was that fucking fabulous yall. I really do but I'm not.


Maybe tomorrow ill tell you about midget Republican


or ugly African Phd


son. there's ugly, then theres so ugly that you wish a nigga wouldnt smile 'cause all it does is make him look worse and leave you wondering how God could be so cruel



til next time

Baby gate

I'm not Tryna say that you hired a surrogate and that that's a throw pillow under your shirt. I'm just saying that that looks suspiciously like a throw pillow under your shirt and maybe an investigation might need to be underway to put the public's mind at ease.

Left: "real" pregnant lady in her third trimester. Whatever you say Krishna.

Right: me with my thirty minute old food baby.


A Heifa has questions
Like:
why is it that your own son didn't believe you were pregnant until your third trimester?
Why would you ask for a size medium (how u finna fit that over a baby belly?) shirt to wear to your magical baby shower?
And why in the hell is my 30min gestated mutant food baby bigger than your "real" one?


tell your friend Beyonce that I said y'all ain't slick.

Still expect to see you at the gun range next weekend

Because you leave me no choice

Think I met the love of my life last night. Sure he was a 5'5", gay, Asian dude, but I swear the stars aligned when we danced


A friend once described my dancing as watching soul train, a raunchy music video and stomp the yard all in one
I'll take it

I like to dance
Correction
I love to dance

I dance because music leaves me no other choice

It is rarely pretty
Often scary
Veers to the ridiculous more times than I can count
But
My soul
It Smiles, when I move to the music

so yeah
expanding on date night
I had met him at some lounge the previous week. We exchanged numbers. I called him because im a modern woman and all that jazz (insert side eye)
look. I was bored

 i informed him when he came to pick me up that I had sent his number and likeness to atleast 2 people and had also sent a pic of his license plate number because "if you finna kill me tonight, you might wanna reconsider"
I was only half joking

 I did send the number and license number tho

I watch 20/20 bitch

besides he's from the bronx (yes. that was indeed shade)

I had a fun night. Not sure if there was any real chemistry but that's alright too
needed to get my crotch uh i mean feet
needed to get my feet wet

Conversation was interesting enough. No earth shattering revelations. No deep dark secrets were spilled.
Drinks, however ...(but ill get to that later)
I tend to overshare because i may have psychological issues
okay my therapist said i do have psychological issues

scene 1: we're at the bar. he's ordering drinks. Hands me mine and says "don't worry i didn't slip you a rufie", which gets me thinking on rufies and 20/20 (yes i have a problem)
So i do three seconds of maniacal laughter followed by an abrupt stop and penetrating glare. He looked as uncomfortable as i had felt the moment before so ...
all was well with the world (i did mention that i'm an ass right)

scene 2: We're dancing, talking, somehow we get to the subject of working out. He tells me he benches and squats (insert magic number intended to impress)
Then proceeds to try and pick me up dirty dancing style and succeeds in only getting me three inches off the ground
Fuck his masculinity and shit
Negro you aint gon have me feeling like i weigh a thousand lbs bitch
step them weights up



scene 3: I go to get my jacket from coat check and as im walking away, i slip and spend four uncomfortably long seconds trying to catch my balance
went something like this:
Im not gonna fall
Im not gonna fall
Houston we have a problem!
mayday!!!
mayday!!!
and then i landed on my ass

ofcourse my damn companion for the night was not there to catch me
I mean he was six feet away but hows that supposed to help me?
So when he mad his way over and offered me a hand I brushed it away, stood up and said
"Why weren't you here?!?! Why didn't you save me?!?!"
We both burst out laughing



Scene 4: We head to a diner to grab some breakfast cause a bitch has dietary needs.
We're chatting it up, laughing. Talking about our lives
I mention the virgin thing and negro gets this deer caught in headlights look in his eyes like i just said
" let's go to the courthouse and commence to making babies"
chill man
chill

So...went on my first date in (insert embarrassingly long period of time here)
* met him when I had my flats on. Forgot that until we met up and I was rocking six Inch heels (cue fear of looking transvestitish) ugh. Very happy the midget negro could dance. I hate when men cant fucking dance. Just something about a man who can move well that triggers the most delicious of lustful thoughts (that of course My punk ass didn't act on) He tried to lean in for one of those bootleg movie kisses but I just pretended I ain't see shit. Ten minutes later he went in for a second attempt. I just leaned in seductively,rubbed his head and whispered in his ear "nice try bruh" I'm an ass
I was not Provided the book on game nor did I purchase the damn pamphlet. I was my fucking everyday self (which is probably why I can't get a man. Lol)
So let's see. I let loose one of the most Unsexy belches at dinner (yes belching can be sexy), I challenged him to a dance battle where I proceeded to look possessed as possessed can be ( eyes rolled into the back of my head for most of that time), apparently matching him drink for drink was a sign that I was an alcoholic, and I tripped and did the most awkward slow fall you ever did see in your life. I'll expand later