Monster

I think I have a little problem. 

I have no self control.

Last night I stop by the bar to hang out and watch the female bartenders.  I watch so I can get some tips on how to do my Coyote Ugly bartending thang.  They dress sooo sexy but I think I might be too old to be wearing booty shorts like they do.  I need a push up or water bra in the worst way though.  My boobs are looking more like Josephine Baker's every day and I am not digging that one bit.

When I go to these bars I usually go by myself, and after some time someone will end up talking to me.  Male or female.  Not like I stand there waiting for someone to talk to me, but they just do.

So I talked to one guy for a little while.  Then the bartender asks him if he wanted a drink and he said yes.  But did he ask me if I wanted one?  No!  So that convo that had been going on for about 15 minutes was over.  Totally lost interest in what he was saying and he could see that.  "Oh let me see where my friends are at." 

"Yeah you do that." 

Lame.  Next.

Then I move away from the bar and just stand near the dance floor to try to look at what kind of fellas are in there.  Lots of suits.  Lots of collared shirts!  Dudes look they have jobs - and nice jobs at that.  The crowd was grooving.  The music was humming.  One guy says something and then another.  I start talking to one of them.  We dance.  He catches sight of my sexy pantyhose.  He dances closer to me.  He presses himself against me.  I can feel it.  He walks me to the subway.  Then...

I think I have a problem.  Not sure how to bring it up to the therapist.  I don't even remember his name.

Now I am wondering if I should go to this masquerade party alone.  I called Mr. Porno and told him that I need some rebound sex to forget about the guy I was digging.  Of course he will oblige me he says.

Maybe I have a problem.  Maybe I don't.  Hell I'm single with no real man so what's wrong here?

I say nothing.

It's Halloween and I don't need a costume. 

Why? 

Because I feel a monster growing inside of me.

Day #387: It's Over

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Day #382: I DO NOT WHIP MY HAIR

Random thoughts.  I was sitting here thinking that I need to get a fresh wig this weekend.

Then I realized something...

I will show a dude the hair on my coochie before I show him the real hair on my damn head! 

He can get all close up and personal down there but when it comes to my head --- ain't no way he gonna see my real damn hair until I get to know him first. 

Dude:  "Why you always wearing that scarf? Let me see your real hair."

Me:  "Nuh uh.  You don't EVEN know me like that and we ain't even serious!  Who do YOU think you are asking me that?  You gettin' way too personal."

But we both laying on the bed naked.

LOL.  Ain't that a trip?

Even if my coochie hair needs a little trimming, I still won't hide it.  If he wanna look; I'll let him look.  Put yo' face right there, baby.

But let my scarf start to come off during sex and everything stops.  I start pulling, yanking, and adjusting like a crazy woman.  "Wait, wait!  Let me fix my scarf!"

WTF.  My belief is that we gotta build sumthin for MONTHS before I let you see the hair on my head --- but not for my coochie? 

I'm not bald or anything so what's my problem? My hair comes to below my ears when I press it out, but on a regular day I'm really an Undercover Celie with those little cornrows and/or braids all around.  And on top of that it's frizzy cuz I don't have a perm.  I call it an AF-RAID sometimes.  It becomes an afro and braid combo if I let it go too long without rebraiding it. 

Shyt, I don't even like looking at it my damn self sometimes.  I just sit that wig on it and I'm out.  LOL.

Jheri Curl in the movie Hollywood Shuffle

Yeah Jheri Curl, I know EXACTLY how you feel.  If my wig or scarf ever came off during sex this is EXACTLY the expression that I would have on my face.  And my hand would be scretched out like that too.  "I'm still the same girl baby!  You still like me right?  Don't leave me! Don't leave meeeeeee!"

"Gurl....

(talkin' to myself)

"That's a hell of a complex you got there." 
 
Wooooow.  But dudes don't even care though most times.  They don't press you about seeing your real hair.  Fake hair is just accepted nowadays.

Right?

I gotta think on this some more and come back to it. 

I AM NOT MY HAIR.  OR AM I? 

AND SORRY MEADOW, WILLOW, SASSAFRASS OR WHATEVER YO' NAME IS...I DO NOT WHIP MY 'REAL' HAIR FOR DAMN NOBODY OUT OF THE GATE.  Cuz please believe if I do for a man, we betta be in some heavy rotation on the relationship front.  Word up.

I Almost Did It...

His d*ck was right there in my face.  But I didn't do it although I was tempted.  Real tempted.  My hand was on it.  I was stroking it.  Looking at it.  Imagining it.

But I told him to get off me.

Then he asked me, "Who you trying to be all nice girl for now?"

Mister.

I'm being good for Mister.

But Mister is too f*ckin' busy.  I posted that I wasn't sure about his azz when he told me he worked a few jobs.  That was a red flag that I was hoping would not be a problem but it has been a REALLY BIG PROBLEM and now I'm getting annoyed.  So when this throwback d*ck showed up at my place I was contemplating getting some of it to break this spell Mister has over me.

Then I thought.  I could jinx myself.  I could jinx us.  If I f*ck him then I'll put that negative shyt in the universe and then maybe me and Mister will be doomed.

So I decided to pass on it.  I got me a new purse though cuz when he came over he brought me a gift.  So it wasn't a total loss.  LOL. 

There was also something else too.  The throwback d*ck didn't look that good to me for some reason.  I wasn't excited about it and it didn't look as thick and juicy as it used to look back in our kickin' it days.  Did it get smaller?  Does that happen to dudes as they get older?  I gotta check into that.  I thank the lawd though because if it was looking nice no tellin' what I would have done.

As for Mister though...he is walking on thin ice.  He's just too busy.  Weekends.  Weekdays.  He's gonna lose me if he doesn't show and prove.  I went on another date just to keep my options open.  He seemed nice but his hair was bothering me.  Who the f*ck still wears cornrows after age 35?  And his feet looked so tiny in those Tims he had on. Sigh.    He saw me bartending and I had these licorice-looking leggings on and he was getting all hot and bothered (according to his texts to me), so I think I got him where I want him.  If we go out again I'll try to touch it to see wassup.  I'll take him to the mall and wait until I pick something out and then do it.  Maybe I'll get some free shyt. 

HAHA!

Is Your D*ck *THAT* Big????

From my phone:

9:35pm.  Sitting on bus. Heading home from the city after just having the BEST KISSING session with my new sweetie.  Back against the wall.  Kissing under the umbrella in the rain as the rest of NYC passed us by.  Whew.  I had no panties on with a dress so I had to stand up on the subway to the bus station cuz...uh, the kitty was a bit moist.  :) I'm telling you, the shyt was that hot.

I'm fanning myself just thinking about it! 

Ahem.  Ok, um back to the bus ride.

So I get on bus and there is one last seat next to a brutha; a rare sight on my bus route back to Ecuador/my town. 

"Excuse me." 

First I had to ask him to move his damn bag so I could sit down.  That's a bad sign right there cuz the bus was crowded and no one asked him to move his stuff.  This was the last seat.

Hmmm.

Now I have been sitting here all of about three minutes, and lawd I feel that I am about to lose it in about 30 seconds with this fool. 

Why?  Because I totally hate when guys sit with their legs wide open like their d@ck is so muthafuckin big that they can't close their legs! I hate that shyt for real.  Here I am sitting with his thigh touching mine, his foot touching mine, and his arm touching mine.  And he is just busy pounding away on his Iphone playing some damn game.  YOU'RE. TOUCHING. ME!!!!  Every second I'm hating you more with your big Charlie Brown headed self.  I wanna smack you. 

Grrrrrr....

I swear...I'm like 15 seconds from telling him about his azz. He is just all up in my personal space and ruining my high from lip locking.

Damn you arrogant bastard!!!

15.

14.

13.

12.

11. 

10 seconds.

Good.  Someone just got up so I'm moving.  Consider yourself lucky muthafucca.  I hope u lose that f*ckin game you playin'.

Day #359: Still Farting

A few weeks ago I blogged that my co-worker comes to my desk to tell me these random stories and then farts and leaves.

He just did it again.  Just now.  This time he was asking me some crazy shyt about Deniece Williams and Diana Ross, then right before he ends the story he farts.  And walks away.

I noticed that now he brings up Black movies and entertainers to me because once he asked me about a movie and I asked,

"Was there any Black people in it?"

"No."

"Well I didn't see it then."

That was the end of the conversation.
I thought that would get him to stop bringing his azz to my desk, but nope.  I guess he thought about it and since then he tries to tailor his stories to his audience (me) and only talks about shows and music with Black people in it.  Unbelievable.

(in my fake British accent)

"He's quite odd.  Quite odd I tell you."

I know in the last blog I said that I was gonna tell him about his farting, but I found out that he's getting fired in the next week or so.  Yeah, he weirded everyone out and he's getting the ax.  Maybe he messed up and farted in the wrong cube.  LOL.

So now that I know this, I can't get myself to tell him about this farting shyt.  I guess I feel sorry for him????

DAMMIT!  DAMMIT!  DAMMIT!

I shoulda did it before I found this out. 

Well I guess the good thing is that I don't have to deal with the farting and him digging in his nose for too much longer.

That's a crazy thing that this is something to be looking forward to ---- your co-worker getting fired so he can stop farting at your desk.

Wow.  That's some wild shyt right thurr.

Seven Pairs of Shoes...

...and I still got this dude on my mind.  Every pair I tried on I imagined him looking at them with me.  So much for that strategy.


I used my tip money from the hell hole open bar that I worked last Saturday to buy those shoes, so before someone says "I thought you went bankrupt", that's what I did with half of my tips.  I save half and I spend half.  I'll probably take some back though.  I do that a lot; buy shyt then return it after I bring all my things back to the Honeycomb Hideout.  I tell myself I need a damn house and put it all back in the bags.
Well I put some of it back in the bags.  :)

The purpose of the shoes was to distract me from him but I still thought of his azz when I tried them all on?  So much for that.
.............................................>
He came by here yesterday.  When I met him on the street and I saw him from a distance, it was like the world had disappeared. 

It was just me and him there.  No sound.  No people.  Just him smiling at me.  AT ME!

But on the real though....

I never manage to keep the dudes I really like.  I worked tonight bartending and this customer told me she worked hard to keep her man. 

I had to ask myself...now how do you do that?  How do you work hard to keep someone around?  To make them love you?  Does that even work? 

I'll make confession at 2:49am in the morning.  I'm so tired but my feet are throbbing from being on them all night bartending so I can't sleep right now.  So why not blog and make a confession really quick while I wait for this Advil to kick in. 

My confession is this:

I don't know how to love anybody.

I repeat.  I don't know how to love anybody. 

I still take numbers and flirt, especially now since I'm bartending and I'm trying to get my tips.  I still go out with guys and even screw them sometimes when I am supposed to be liking ONE person.  At least that's what I have done in the past (not since I met this guy I haven't considered anyone else yet).  I'm not big on that one man thing I guess.  I don't have a lot of discipline it seems.  But I do like this guy.  If he knew me, he would know that to keep me he betta be in my face a lot otherwise....I dunno.  :(

So there.

I said it.

I don't know how to love anybody....at least not the right way.

That's my confession.  So now what?

(tapping fingers quickly on the desk)

I'll be positive.  I guess the person that I really doubt is myself? 
At least in this case.  And I don't write that for sympathy or to be criticized!  I write that because I THINK that is what I believe is the truth right now. 

Time will tell though.



Teach me how to love

Show me the way to surrender my heart, boy I'm so lost
Teach me how to love
How I can get my emotions involved
Teach me, show me how to love
Show me the way to surrender my heart, boy I'm lost

Teach me how to love

How I can get my emotions involved
Teach me, how to love