Day #242: Ease Ur Azzes On Down The Road

Damn those three off days for Memorial Day went by fast as hell! 

It was an interesting weekend because I burnt my face when a shell flew and hit my cheek when I was shooting my new gun at the shooting range.  Boo!  It's right under my eye and it looks really jacked up.  I mean I bought the gun to BE gangsta (if necessary), but I wasn't tryin' to LOOK gangsta.  Marking up my face at this stage in my life ain't a good look at all.

<<< Unless I looked like this chick.  Guys probably wouldn't even look at my face. 

Oh well.  :(

Good news though...

IT'S OFFICIAL.

Shrek, Fiona, and their donkeys - MOVED. 

They just bounced overnight.  I came downstairs this morning and the porter told me.  I couldn't believe it!  After four months of bump, jump, drop, and stomp - is it really finally over?

I let out a big sigh and my legs buckled underneath me and I fell onto the steps.  The porter hugged me and patted my back.  Lawd, thank you!!!

(Opens cabinet and gets out a glass, singing...)

"Can't you,
feel ah,
brand new day!
Can't you, 
feel ah,
brand new daaaaaayyyy!"

They sung that on The Wiz last night.  Yes I do feel a brand new day. Hell I might even go upstairs and do that little dance Diana and Mike did in the movie --- in front of their FORMER APARTMENT.  Mmmm hmmm.

What a ride it has been!  Since February 14th. 

I see all of their raggedy shyt piled up on the street for the garbage too.  What a lovely sight.  It was so lovely that I decided to capture the moment for nostalgia's sake:

Yep I'm wrong for taking that pic, but never in my life have I been so happy to see somebody else's garbage.  I should have took a pic of me jumping up and down on that cheap azz couch too!  Damn.  Now I think of it!

In memoriam, I took a look back at all of the posts I made about those lame muthafuccas.  They got a LOT of airplay in my little diary.

http://diaryofabrokeasswoman.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-152-im-not-feeling-honeycomb.html
http://diaryofabrokeasswoman.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-208-you-aint-special.html
http://diaryofabrokeasswoman.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-236-living-in-chuck-e-cheese-hotel.html

I know this much though, because of them I will never go see Riverdance - even if you paid me.  I will never go to Chuck-e-Cheese.  I will never move into a cheap azz apartment building either because like they always say, if it sounds to good to be true, it probably is.

So glad they finally decided to get their azzes up outta here!!  They knew they were bogus and that's why they moved out like that.  Don't nobody wanna hear that noise shyt day in and day out, and I wasn't playing.  I was calling the police, writing letters, and watching Judge Judy on the daily.  I was getting ready for war!  The court date for the eviction was at the end of June, but I guess they decided to bounce early to avoid the embarassment.

Excellent choice. 

(Takes glass and pours liquid from my Box-O-Wine, singing...)

"Ease on down, ease ur azz down the road.

Go on and, ease on down,
ease ur azz down, the ro-oh-oad.

Pack up all your shyt,
and I hope it's a heavy load.


Go on and, ease on down,
ease ur azz down,
the ro-oh-oad!"

Great songs that movie The Wiz had...

(Raises my glass to toast, then sips wine)

Buh-bye!

My Filipino friend IS trying to mack. Oh sheit.  He hugged me good night after going for a drink and it was a little 'snug.'

Hmmm.  :/

Piss N' Boots

There is nothing worse than sitting next to someone on the bus who has

shit breath,
sour breath,
garlic breath,
scallion or onion breath, 
Chinese Food breath,
Indian Curry or "whateva the f*ck they use to cook with" breath.

Geezus.  I mean I can only hold my breath for so long. 

Oh and let's not forget those who come on the bus who are a COMPLETE FUNK PACKAGE. 

This lady got on the bus and her cat must have pissed on her clothes and on them Ugg Boots she was wearing that day (by the way I totally hate Ugg boots and her pissy footed azz made me hate them even more!) 

I'll be honest - at first I thought it was me because have a cat  too.   I freaked and started to frantically sniff my own shyt to double check - my shirt, my bra, my bag.  My face had that "Where is that shyt coming from?" expression.  I think this lady sitting behind me thought it was me too because she sprayed some pocket perfume in the air.

"Hold up, it's not me!  It's her!  It's her!"  

I was guilty of funk by association.

The smell was strong too, and I couldn't move to another seat because the bus was packed.  A break came after a little while when she went to sleep and stopped moving, so it wasn't so bad.  But when that chick woke up, awww shyt!!!  She had the nerve to stretch like a cat and extend her arms making the piss smell rise to its fullest intensity.   It was like the cat himself had got on the bus.

Silent scream.  I put my hand on my forehead and prayed. 

"Jesus please.  I don't ask for much, but please send a thunderbolt of Febreeze down on this bus this morning.  Please lawd please."

Now I understand why people wear face masks on the subway sometimes.  At first I used to say to myself that it wasn't that serious when I saw people with them, but umm, now I see that it is.

They should equip the busses and subways with those oxygen masks like on airplanes.  Then when someone sits next to you with a high funk quotient you can just press the button and the mask will drop from the ceiling.  Hawt.

Day #236: I'm Losing It

Crash. Boom. Thud. Stomp. Jump. Bump. Slam. Rumble. Little feet running.

Crash. Boom. Thud. Stomp. Jump. Bump. Slam. Rumble.  Little feet running.

 Crash. Boom. Thud. Stomp. Jump. Bump. Slam. Rumble. Little feet running.

The neighbors are getting to me. 

I swear that Shrek and Fiona and their two donkeys live upstairs.  It's like living under a damn bowling alley.

Lately I have been trying to stall and come home late so that by the time I get home there will be less of it to hear. But since the days are longer they are staying up longer.  Arggghhhh!!  When the weekend comes, ooh forget about it.  All day starting at 7:30am.  I wanna buy their azzes season passes to Gymboree or Six Flags just to get them to leave for a little while.  It's nice outside and they just stay inside all damn day on the weekends it seems.  There's a park nearby but they won't go!  Give them brats some fresh air and me a break why dontcha?  I truly dread the weekends.  I try to watch something funny to take my mind off them, but I can't even watch my Jamie Foxx reruns in peace.  I just end up leaving and sitting in Starbucks or on some random bench looking homeless and shyt. 

Sometimes I sit in my apartment and just listen to them with my arms folded looking up at the ceiling.  No TV.  No radio.  Just listening to them.  Asking myself why did I move to this f*n place. 

I even sit there and scheme about how I could get to them move.  I thought about putting stink bombs outside of their door.  Or maybe I'll put a picture of a naked Latina mami with a love letter to the man so the wife would get mad and take her brats and leave.  I even thought about getting up at 3am and going outside and throwing rocks and eggs and their windows.  "If I can't rest, you can't either dammit!" 

Hmmmm.  Sometimes I think they leave the stroller outside the door.  That's what I think I hear rolling back and forth across the floor sometimes.  I think I'm gonna throw it out of the window one of these days.  Then I'll race downstairs with a bat and finish it off.  Seriously.

I called the cops to tell them to quiet the f*ck down, but I think it's hopeless.  As soon as the cops left they went right back to it.  I guess I am gonna just move, and re-pack up all that shyt that I just unpacked in February.  I mean what if another noisy posse of motherfuccas move up there right?  So fuckit.  I'm out and I'm not gonna blog it about no mo'.  The bankruptcy thing will probably make getting a new place harder.  Ouch, just thought about that.  Unless.........I'm willing to move to the hood where they don't check like that.  All my broke and no credit having friends find spots over there with no problem.  I don't think I can do that though; summer is just starting and they ackin' up already. 

In other news....

I think this Filipino dude is trying to mack?  I met him at this meetup.com event for business folk.  I had met this other dude that I was feeling and sent him an email but he didn't respond.  Instead the Filipino guy was on it.  It always goes like that doesn't it?

Anyway, he's like texting me on the daily.  I'm not sure yet if he's trying to mack though?  Maybe he just needs a hanging partner in NYC.  I could be game for that.  I need to waste time before going home anyway.  We hung out once or twice, and he took me to this NICE bar that overlooked the city.  It was pretty fly -- and pretty white except for the big Black security guard.  Good spot for creepin' too.  LOL.

Bad thing though was that I kept looking at the railing and thinking about falling over it or jumping or imagining the guy who jumped off one a few weeks ago.  I had to look away and focus on the buildings in the distance.  Not good.  Those rooftops things are fly but put thoughts in my head.  I shouldn't go to those places anymore.  I guess I should tell the therapist that, but you gotta be careful what you tell them cuz they'll send you to the hospital.  It happened to my brother once. 

Dude is nice to me.  There's just one problem though, his teeth game.  He has those Filipino teeth.  Overbite for days.

Sigh.  I complain about everybody. 

It's the DIARY OF A COMPLAINING ASS FEMALE.

Why Did I Give This Fool My Number?

So I'm walking near Times Square and I stumbled on the sidewalk.  This tall, heavy set brutha appears and was probably asking was I okay, but I couldn't hear him because I had the earphones in from my IPhone.  I'm telling you those earphones are thee bestest because when dudes try to holla I'll just point to them and mouth the words, "I can't hear you" and keep walking.  It is just like having a can of Off Mosquito Spray.  Pshhhh.  Get away you bug!  LOL.

But since I slipped though, I took one earphone out as a reflex and he stopped to talk.  Damn.  Of course it was the usual babble and bullsh*t that I always hear.  So then he asks after a minute or two, 

"Can I take you out?" 

Shudders.  Ok here we go.

While giving him the side eye I say,"Yeah okay, I bet you say that to girls all day",

"Uh, uh.  Nah, I really want take you out.  What do you like to do?"

Man, I'm not getting into this right now.  So I say, "Dude I gotta go."

"Well wait, can I get your number?  Ooh I'm so nervous.  Look at me fumbling with my phone."

SIDE NOTE:  How many times have I heard that, "I'm so nervous" line in NYC?  STFU with that tired shyt.  Why would you be nervous doing something that you clearly look comfortable doing to me?  An-e-way.

So I give him the Nuccas and Fools Business Card that I pass out with this number on it that goes straight to text.  Before he walked away he called my phone and his number showed up.  He asked me to put it in my contacts.  Yeah uh sure.  Bye!

Two days later I get a text from his number at 11:00pm at night - and guess what?  This weirdo sent four pictures of this woman sucking and f*cking a man with a d*ck the size of like three cucumbers rubber banded together!   A white man too!  Well it coulda been a light skinned brutha cuz all I saw was a man from the waist down?  I dunno.  It was just ridiculous.

The text said, "Wow, look at this shyt!"

Now ain't that some far out shyt right there?  Kinda high school if you ask me too.  So now you can't even give your number out nowadays for fear that bruthas will send you x-rated text messages?  Unbelievable!  I told my friend about it (aka Porn Master) and he said that the guy must be gay if he sent a picture of another man to a female?  Or he must be a weirdo.  The hell if I know.   I mean I have had one or two dudes that I KNEW send me pics of themselves trying to get me to bite, but never did they send me pics of another man... 

Now I was trippin and thinking, how can I fix his ass, how can I fix his ass.  Ding!  Got it.

I go to one of those shemale websites.  I found me a REALLY NASTY picture of a chick with d*ck (and a few more d*cks in the pic as a bonus) and texted him back. 

My message said..."What you saw, may not be what you thought it was."  Yeah, let him marinate on that and think he met a man that he was "so nervous around".  Bastard.

So that's that.  No more giving out that card with my number on it, and I will BE SURE to have my headphones blasting when walking past these slick talking NYC busters. 

I swear that had to be THE LAMEST thing I've ever had a guy do - and he wasn't a youngsta either.  It's almost as bad as the guy two weeks ago who said to me while I was standing waiting to cross the street,


"I need help." 
"Help with what?"  (insert side eye, still walking)

"I need some pus*y."

"Huh? Oh well there's the peep show right there. They'll be glad to give you some azz."
"Oh I don't want none of them."
"So you just walk up to women and say that?  What if I popped you in the mouth?"

"Then you just pop me in the mouth. I'm just keeping it real."

"Does it work when you say that to females?"

"Yeah sometimes."

"Well not today, shut the f*ck up and get outta my way." 
I think he was high.

And guys wonder why chicks in NYC are mean sometimes.

SMDH.

Bad Day?

From my phone:

I hate the way today is going.  It started out okay I think.  I made it out of the house just as the azzhole neighbors started their daily Riverdance rehearsals above me.  8:45am.  Saturday.

It's beautiful weather and I went to the gym.  I even wore some tight gym clothes and showed some boobage.  It didn't look too bad even though I gained about five pounds since the Operation Sexy foot surgery.  Went to a different gym; more brothers there so maybe I'll go back.  I even drove 18 miles just to get me a Chik Fil A sammich and fries too (regretted it though).  So I was doing pretty good.

So I was supposed to meet an old friend for nothing much really but to hang out and run some errands.  Listen to old songs and laugh more than likely.  We used to date, and then we became Friends With Benefits (FWB) after he started getting all jealous acting and shyt.  I don't like that AT ALL.   Lately the FWB thing was fading out (as it always does) but we were still cool.

Oh and did I mention that he is an ex-gangsta?  80s style.  Perm and all - oh excuse me, I mean texturizer.  Yep I know, what was I thinking?!!!  I call him THE OG - The Original Gangsta (not to his face though).  I have him in my cell phone like that too.  Yeah he's the type that drives those big azz Buicks or Cadillacs, and has something like The Whispers or The Stylistics blasting from his woofers on a hot summer day.  Uh huh, he's Mr. Mayor - leaning to the side and driving 5 miles an hour yelling out every two minutes, 'Hey how you doing mane!"  Honk. Honk.  "All right!  All right!"  I had to stop riding in that fool's car cuz I couldn't take it anymore! 

Soooo.....

We spoke this morning and I told him that I would call him when I was coming his way so we could take my car for a little spin.  But when I call him he says, "Oh I didn't hear from you an hour ago so I made other plans."

(Eyes widen.  Mouth drops.)

Say what nucca?

So in other words you got a better offer and decided to go out with another chick after we planned this yesterday and this morning?  Next I try to ask him what he was gonna do instead of meeting me, and he is just talking in muthafuckin circles and dancing around it.  Pissing me off even more.  The chick must have been there.  Just say it muthafucca!!!  I'm not your woman so what are you hiding for?  I should have said, "Say my name!", but my name can be for a boy or girl so that would have been useless to do.  But even still, he made plans with me and then cancels me and throws me to the side like gabbage (yes, gabbage)?  After all the shyt I helped you with?  After I gave you play knowing you were an ex con and knowing all the corrupt shyt you used to do?  (I would put up his prison pic with him in his orange jumpsuit cuz it's on the the state website, but I won't do him like that.  I do have a heart. LOL)

But wait, why am I pissed?  I'm sitting here asking myself why am I pissed?  Am I looney to be pissed about a brother who can only give me some good d*ck (sometimes), talk that nasty talk the way I like, and help me with little errands and shyt? 

Still though.  I don't like it that we made a plan and then he tried to turn it around and blame me for not calling him during a certain timeframe.  Shyt why didn't you call me?  I asked him that and he just said more babblin' mumbo jumbo that made no sense.

(That's him calling me now.  Fucca.)

He shouldn't have done that.  He should have told whoever it was that he would catch them later this evening cuz he had plans this afternoon.  I wasn't gonna hold him all day.  I mean it sounds simple enough to me.  WTF?

So I hang up the phone with him, and of course I followed up with some 'mothafucka' and "I hope the pus*y is good" texts right after.  I invited him to go to an event next Saturday and I HOPE that he calls me asking if we are still going.  Yeah I'll pick you up Mr. Mayor.  I'll even give you a time too, but on my watch it will be at exactly half past never.  I'm going by myself and plan to dance the night away!

(mind chatter)

Ok, ok! I'll confess! This touched a nerve today.  My feelings got hurt and I'm feeling a little burnt.  Yeah, burnt feelings to go along with the sunburn that I got on my back last week.  Great.  Right now I wish I could be like Beyonce and say,"I can have another you in a minute", but today I can't.  There's nobody in the dugout (well nobody that I wanna be bothered with anyway).  It's a shitty feeling. 

5:00pm.  Beautiful Saturday.  Sitting in my fancy car.

I hope the azzhole neighbors left for a while. 

I'll be glad when the sun goes down.

Day #222: Googling for Ass

I gotta tell you that having the word 'ASS' in the title of my blog has some interesting folks dropping by here.  From all over the world too!  It's kinda funny.

Somebody checked in from Riyadh by searching for "sexy tight ass".

Another cat checked in from Australia looking for "ass fuck."  (When I saw that I was like, "Damn.")

Beverly Hills, California searched for "cum ass".  Actually he came back two more times Googling the same thing?

Then Ohio checked in by searching for "woman broke her ass."

Korea said hello to my blog by seaching for "white women ass".

Then Ghana came by from searching for "Phat Booty Ass."

I see Ghana was keeping it hood!!!!  He didn't want a ol' regular booty, he wanted to see a P-H-A-T booty okay?

Oh I could go on and on.  There are many more variations of ass searches that end up this blog.  I doubt that they read the blog, as I am sure this was not quite what they were looking for.  It just goes to show you that there is a global fascination with azz; WE JUST CAN'T STOP IT.  Yo, there are nasty asses all over this world.  I bet those countries where all the ladies are covered up are full of nasty freaks! 

But what's hilarious is that out of all the ass and porn sites in the world, Google directs them here?  And now because this post has the word 'ass' in it so many times, lawd knows what the next person will Google to get here. 

Oooh, I can't wait.

*rolls eyes*

(I will insert a pic of ass when I get home from work)

Much later I'm back here checking in:

(Okay, here is that pic.  And to my funny commenter, I wish I could put a shot of my ass on this here blog, but my booty ain't that internet worthy.)

Yeah, I'll admit it.  She got a nice booty.  Damn I wish mine looked more like that! 

Ain't gonna even lie.

Somebody F*ckd Up My New Ride

The bankruptcy has been final only 30 days, and I've been getting letters from finance companies asking me already if I want to buy a new car.  They don't waste any time do they?   I bought a 2010 Camaro right before I filed and before my credit tanked so I'm good on the car thing.  Or at least I thought I was good.

I guess I forgot to factor in the HATERS in my neighborhood.

On the morning of New Year's Eve I went out to move the car for the street sweeper and saw that some azzhole or azzholes took a marker and drew all over it, rolled around on the hood, and then keyed the hood up.  I had the car for 45 days.  It had like 1200 miles on it and it was already f*ckd up before I even had the chance to dent it up my damn self.  ARGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!  And no I didn't do anything to anybody.  People always say that.  No dammit, I didn't do shyt to nobody.

It's a damn shame.  I mean why do people do this shyt is beyond me.  F*cked up a $25,000 car for what reason?  When I saw the damage I stood in the falling snow and cried and cried.  The car was my birthday present to myself.  I couldn't believe it cuz I sure did not do anything to anybody.  In fact I didn't even park it on my block because I didn't want people to know I had a new ride, but I guess I have some haters on other streets too.  People can't stand to see you with something nice - and it was somebody White or Hispanic cuz that's all I live around.  This is the second time my car has been f*cked with in a year.  Last time someone put peanuts in my gas tank and the shyt cost $700 to fix.  I couldn't put anything in the gas tank because it was clogged up with Planter's Peanuts.  Haters.  I'm glad I moved but my new place ain't no betta.  So now I have to pay $150 a month to park the damn thing in a garage so these thirsty vandals won't continue to mark up my shyt, PLUS I have to try to scrape up $2000 to get the car fixed right.  I swear other people are often the reason you stay broke in this damn world.  For real.

More shyt to talk to therapist about I  guess.

In other news...

I do need to get a new credit card to start building up my credit, but I am reading and some sites are saying that these cards are scams?  For the financially challenged like myself, I'm not trying to get scammed and get into something that will hurt me instead of help me.  I didn't hear anything really bad about Russell Simmon's Baby Phat card though.  I need something that is a credit builder, not just a card that I put my money like a debit card.  Some of these banks keep reporting me to the credit bureau so I had to write them a letter to tell them to get off my damn back.  Don't they know that Big Brother said I don't owe no mo' and it's illegal to keeping reporting me and making my credit score tank even further?

Anyway, I'm kinda cool dealing with the debit card.  I only use what I have in the bank, but I do need to get things back on track on the credit thing.  So I'm looking to see if Baby Phat is really all that.  If it ain't gonna build my credit then forget it.  If not, I gotta find something else or I'll wait to see what I get in the mail.  Gotta read that fine print though.  I hear the fees on cards issued to bankrupt folks are ridiculous and I don't want to get played - even by Russell Simmons.

Checkin' it out.....

Day #215: A Few Thangs That I've Wondered About The Fellas

I said to myself that I wouldn't make this post, cuz I didn't want to sound like a hater.  But then I said what the hell, I'm gonna go for it.  Hell it's just on this little funky blog that I have anyway so it's no biggie.  Hell if I was on mediatakeout or something I would probably get roasted for this post.

So with that being said, I shall begin...


Fourteen Things That I've Wondered About The Fellas

1. Why do you wait until we get on the date and then ask me what I want to do?
I bytched about this already on my last post so I don't need to say anymore on this one.  

2.  Why do y'all buy Magnum size condoms when you clearly ain't packing like that?
Has the average guy ever seen a magnum sized dyck before in real life?   Exactly and neither have I (in real life, lol).  So give up the dream and just get the regular sized condoms.  I mean really it's ok bruh.  I would chuckle more about the fact that you have the Magnum condoms than I would if you had the regular joints. 

 Look at the dimensions of this thing.  You wish!!!! 

3.  Why do you ask chicks for their numbers when you know you don't really wanna call them?  I asked this guy that once.  His lame azz asked me for my number once, and then a few months later saw me and didn't remember that he met me (I probably changed wigs - giggle), and asked for the number again!  So I asked him,

"Do you ask a lot of women for their numbers?"
"Yes."
"Do you really plan or want to call any of them?"
"Sometimes I do.  Sometimes I don't."
"So then why do you ask for the number then?  Is it more about stroking your own ego than the female's ego?"
He then paused and thought about it for a few seconds...
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

...and this dude was in his 40s.  He said he just couldn't help it, and it made HIM feel good.  It wasn't even about the female at all with him.  Unbelievable.

4.  Why are all the cheap azz men usually fat and outta shape?
They don't wanna spend a dime on you or themselves in some cases, but when it comes to eating the sky is the limit - and it shows.  Bellies be all heavy and drooping but ask them to go get their haircut at the barbershop and they won't do it because the $12 is too much to spend.  But ask them to buy some Popeye's chicken and they won't even blink, "Ok, do you want spicy or mild sexy lady?"

5.  Why do you all holler out of your car windows trying to mack when women walk down the street? 
Then they always seem to do it when they are in their work trucks or vans.  Every time y'all do this I think of TLC's song, "No Scrubs."  As old as that song is it still applies to this day.   Losers.

6.  Why do men try to holla when women are sitting in their cars in traffic?
Are you serious?  I mean really.  You know damn well you can't really holla at me during a red light.  It's just some mess y'all do to make you feel like you still 'got it' I guess.  More silly games y'all play.

7.  Why do y'all pull on a woman's clothes or grab her arm at the club when she walks by you?
You know the girl more than likely ain't gonna stop, but you do it anyway for sport I guess. Again losers.

8.  Why do ya'll post up against the wall at the club and look at the ladies that pass by like y'all shopping and can choose who you want? 
And what is hilarious is that y'all stand there all cocky and think you got it like that.  Puhleeze. 

Cocky bastards!!!

9.  Why do some men wear their job or their success on their sleeve like women are supposed to drool over it?
Um, are you still working for somebody else?  Then I ain't impressed - but that's just me.  Some of y'all act like you're f*ckin' P-Diddy and created some businesses and shyt.  Or you invented craigslist or the I-Phone or something.  Man whateva.  I swear so many guys are defined by their jobs that it is sickening.  Always talking about what big things they do at their job and blah, blah, blah.  So without it what would you be then?  If that job was taken away from some guys I bet they wouldn't know what to do with themselves.  I am not anti-job though, cuz I have one unfortunately.  But it's just when guys talk about it all the time like they are the shyt is when I start to lose it.  It happened to me this past weekend.

10.  Why do men act like they are so hard, but ask them to go to the doctor, take medicine, or even give blood and they get all chicken shyt about it?
I knew this ex-con that bashed a guy over his head with a bottle, robbed and stole, sniffed cocaine, and been locked up twice but when asked to give blood his p*ssy ass turned into a damn weenie.

Weenies.

11.  How is it that some of y'all can wake up at 6:00am, and be ready and walking out of the door by 6:08am? 
These are the ones that will at least wash their azz and brush their teeth, but won't iron, will use bar soap on their hair, and won't put a lick of lotion or oil on their entire body.  So you walk out of the house ashy as hell; face dry, white elbows; and hard azz facial hair that feels like porcupine spikes - and you wanna kiss me goodbye when you leave?  Shudders.  Come on man!!!  I mean do you even take any pride in your appearance AT ALL?  Sheesh.

13.  Why do some foreign born guys seem more appreciative of being with American women than our own American born men?
In my travels, this seems to be the case usually.  They don't have problems spending money on you, holding doors for you, and treating you like a lady.  The bad part about them is that they are a little clingy sometimes.  I guess you can't have it all huh!  *wink*

And my bonus question...

14.  What is the fascination with azzes?
Sometimes I laugh when a girl walks by a guy and then he turns around and look at her booty.  I think it is the funniest thing.  The man will look and then go on about his business - most times unaffected and other times their eyes widen in delight.  Do y'all have x-ray vision or something?  Is it a law that I don't know about that you MUST look at a woman's azz when she goes by?  Does she even need a face?  What if women were just made of azz, legs, breasts, and a headless torso?  Hell that's what y'all seem to look at most times anyways.

Ok guys is this what you rather have? 

No azz shot in this photo but you get my point.
(Her boots are hawt though...)

Oh I could go on but I gotta go get my azz to the gym (pun intended).  I'm sure that I could come up with a least a few more but I'll chill and let these marinate in my mind for a minute.  Posting this actually helped me make some realizations about myself though.  I don't think I'm getting picky, but I think I am becoming less tolerant of an older guy showing the traits above than a younger guy.  This past weekend I hung out with a guy nine years younger than me.  It was cool, not 100% great but it was betta time than if I was with a Fred Sanford type that's for sure. 

Anyhow, it is what it is.  Will my questions ever be answered?  Will it ever be revealed why men play these dumb games? 

Probably not...but hey, life goes on.

Mmmmm...is it wrong to get irritated when a guy asks u to go out and then asks....

"So what do u wanna do?"

Clueless. No matter how old they are. Is it too much to ask that u have a plan?

You know what. I think it is to be honest.

Sigh.