Tag Archives: sex

18 – No Car

27 Jun

I was lured back onto Match.com after a succession of sleepless nights, sexless days, and a yearning to never end up like the spinster who teaches in the room next door to mine.  I set up a new profile with new and improved pictures.  I found a discount code online (because I refused to pay full-price) and gave myself one month.

Within the first couple of days, I received an email from an adorable, late twenties-something young man.  He started off his communication by telling me how gorgeous I am (compliments will get him everywhere) and then by telling me how he has a job, but no car. Immediately, I placed him in the “Good Time Charlie” (read: SEX) box.  My philosophy is that if I can go out into the world and provide, for myself, all of the material things I need to make life work…then why shouldn’t I expect the same from my partner?

So “Good Time Charlie” it is for Mr. No Car!

We made it through all of the emails, and eventually graduated to texts and phone calls.  After corresponding with him enough times, I realized that he is an intelligent guy.  I wanted to meet him…and I hinted at it…then blatantly asked him out.  Although I would have had to pick him up, it didn’t bother me.  Well…he didn’t seem enthused with the prospect of leaving his apartment.

The way we finally met face-to-face was all my doing…I asked him if it would okay if I stopped by his place and said hello.  I told him that I didn’t want to come inside his apartment, and that he could just come down to my car and we could talk outside.  He was cool with that.

What I saw was a super-skinny guy who smelled of a cigarette/marijuana mix, couldn’t be bothered to lotion his ashy-ass skin, and had neighbors with way too many children and vicious Pit Bulls.

Ummm…NEXT!

16 – Allow Me to Dig Deep within my Bag O’ Bullshit…

18 Oct

BS bag

Today’s bag o’ bullshit is filled with the degrading tales men tell!

It’s degrading to perpetually text a man, asking him to come over and have sex, and he makes excuses like “I’m at the recording studio”[1] or “I’m just getting your text.  I was sleeping.  On my way to work now.”[2] And it’s even more disconcerting when you confront said fucktard by telling him that you “get it,” and you can see he was only in it for a one-timer…and he replies with “That’s not it at all!  I never got your texts because I was sleeping.”  WTF?  Why can’t men just be honest when you bring the honesty to them first?  FUCKIN A!

It’s degrading for an old time flame of nine years ago, to find you on Facbook, call you and say “We should get together for drinks sometime!”  Then, he calls…two weeks later…on a Friday night…at 6:30pm.  After-thought much?  Yeah…I didn’t answer that.  I texted him today (Sunday) with something light like “That’s what’s wrong with people today!  They call and don’t leave messages!  LOL!”  He responds with, “I figured if you wanted to talk to me you would.”  I told him that I was out when he called.  He said, “I just wanted to see if you wanted to have a drink that day…you know I will keep showing you love.”  UGH!  Annoying!  Annoying for these reasons (1) I am not important enough to PLAN an outing with, (2) He didn’t leave a fucking message, (3) He could have made plans with me when I texted him today…I am an obvious after-thought.  Why bother?!  Newsflash buddy…you’re not cute enough to do shit like that AND you’re dick ain’t big enough for you to call spur of the moment! …I know it didn’t grow any bigger over the past eight years!!!!

It’s also degrading to have your lover/FWB of three years ask you to (1) drive him to the airport so he can go on a cruise with another woman, (2) allow him to leave his work car at your place while he’s away on said cruise, (3) go to his place and check on his two cats because they get lonely, (4) to text you that he’s back in town but not come collect all the shit he’s left at your place because some woman has driven back with him from Miami and he doesn’t want the two of you to meet,[3] and (5) him giving you a “Thank you” card for “being such a great FRIEND!”  LOL!  So, I guess the writing is on the wall…and in the card…whatever we were, ain’t no more!

Okay…I’m done for now; Too much bullshit for one sitting.  All this talk of degradation has depressed me!  I need to shop.


[1] LOL! Dude…you’re not Jay-Z! Or anyone else who’s remotely famous!

[2] Knowing he probably didn’t have to work at all that day.

[3] I’m speculating on this last one…but I’m probably correct.

15 – A Woman Doesn’t Have to Beg

16 Oct

I’m tired of men telling me A Woman Doesn’t Have to Beg.[1] That’s BULLSHIT!  I’ve been looking and I’ve been begging…and I’ve been dickless!  I’m just as equally tired of men telling me that the woman has control over when sex is had.  I believe that theory to hold partial truth…then the rest of it is just unadulterated BULLSHIT!  Here’s the way I live it…men wait for us to allow them to have sex with us the FIRST time around, and then after that…you’re a begging fool!

Women may decide when the initial occurrence of sex transpires, but men are in control of how often she gets it and IF a relationship develops.

I know that many people will disagree with me, but I am only speaking from my reality and the reality of my friends.  Some of you may even go as far to say…if all of your friends are like the one described in Don’t Go Home With a Black Girl, then no wonder.  Sure…some of you may say that…but it’s really not that simple.

I have attempted the male/female situation from all angles.  I have been the one he really wants but can’t have, the one who really wants him but can’t have him, the savior, the saved, the faithful girlfriend, the abused girlfriend, the kinky girlfriend, the compliant girlfriend, the defiant girlfriend, the one who walked in on him while he was cheating…I’ve been it all.  Now, I’m tired.  Now, all I want is a little affection from time to time…no strings attached.  I have high blood pressure…I can’t deal with the stress that the strings attached part brings.

Many of my girlfriends are confused about what it is I say I want from a man, or they just don’t believe me.  First of all, if I am going to truly consider him as a keeper…as my equal…then he’s got to have the following:

v  A career (i.e. salaried, medical, 401K, etc.)

v  Minimum of a Bachelors degree (I have a Masters and will soon have a PhD)

v  His own transportation (i.e. working vehicle)

v  His own place to live

v  Proper money management skills

v  Personal goals

v  Professional goals

v  SINGLE!!!

I have listed things that I have.  I am not expecting him to do or be anyone that I am not already.  Believe it or not, all that I’ve listed above is difficult to find in ONE man.  And I have no problem keeping it real…I am a woman with physical needs.  So, if I encounter a man who has one or two of those things…or NONE of those things…I weigh HOW he can be used.  It’s kinda like how you cut off the moldy part of the bread and throw it out, instead of throwing out the entire loaf!  LOL!  If I see that he may be utilized in the “physical pleasures” department, then I throw him in that box…but he NEVER comes out of that box…EVER!  It’s like feeding a Gizmo after midnight…bad…very bad!

And now these Gizmo ass n*&&#s are acting a fool!  Making me beg?  Making me go through hoops?  The temerity!  What is this world coming to?  I want to know why a woman, who isn’t asking for commitment, still has to beg!


[1] And I’m talking about sex…just in case you were confused!  I’m a one-track-mind! LOL!

11 – More Match Madness…But Nothin’ a Little Shag Can’t Cure!

7 Jul

shag notice

So, after my “eventful” date with Mr. MBA…I decide to venture off on a night of tried-and-true fun.  I called Kenneth and asked him if he had already seen Transformers.  Seeing as how it was only released twelve hours before I asked him, I figured that some other bimbo had not beaten me to the punch.  So my Thursday evening was spent in high contrast to my Wednesday evening…laughing, joking, eating, drinking, shagging.[1]

In fact, that was the night of MJ’s death, and Kenneth and I had a talk about loneliness and how much it sucks.  He even mentioned being ready to “settle down” soon.  I found that statement hilarious…seeing as how he was sitting there, with me…and not with whomever he deems “settling down” material.  Although, knowing him, she’s somewhere close by.  See, Kenneth and I have been doing this “thing” for about three years now.  Last October, his “roommate” (read: GIRLFRIEND of twelve years) died suddenly[2], and I was momentarily rendered retarded by the event.  He leaned on me for emotional consolation[3], and I thought, for the blink of an eye…that he would choose me.

I’m over that now.  I know better.[4]

So, I was recovering from my Match Madness and beginning to embark upon another journey…down the road to perdition!  LOL!  A new guy contacted me.  He looked mama’s boy/latent gay/church boy on his profile.  I thought that that could be what I needed…someone to anchor my free-spirited waywardness.  The Latent Gay called me every day, and sometimes even TWICE a day.  He often texted me while he was at work.  We shared our hopes and dreams, while eagerly anticipating the climactic moment of our physical meeting.

I was nervous because Latent gay had not posted any full body shots of himself…nor did he offer.  I did not have any full body shots of myself, however, I did ask Latent Gay if he wanted me to email a full body to him.  He said that he didn’t care about all of that.  He said the most important thing was our ability to communicate.  I was beginning to like him more each day.

So…”D-Day,” we met at a central place in the city.  He had to drive an hour and a half to reach the city, but he said he didn’t mind.  He said he was always in the city.  He even hinted at picking me up, but I told him that coming to my place would add another thirty minutes to his drive.[5] He put the activities of the evening in my hands, and I chose a place where several events were occurring at one time.  There is a bowling alley/lounge, movie theater, restaurant/sports bar, and several places to eat in this one location.  I told him that we could meet and then decide what to do.  He was adamant about pinpointing a time and a “thing” to do, so he called me back and said The Hangover was playing at 6:30pm.

So that’s what we did.  We saw a movie.  With the warmth of a cactus, he gave me a hug…told me how GREAT it was to finally meet me…and that he would call once he made it home.  Well, he did call, but he was not at home.  I heard loud voices and music in the background.  He said he made it home and had a wonderful evening.

I never heard from him again.

I went salsa dancing.


[1] In no particular order…but the shagging part was my absolute fav! J

[2] No, he did not kill her!  It was a blood clot in the lung.  She was only twenty-nine.  Very sad.

[3] In fact, called me the day she died and had me sit with him until his parents could make it to his apartment.  It was a six hour wait.

[4] But it still feels like a gigantic cleaver in the heart, regardless!

[5] Okay…so I exaggerated!  I didn’t know him, and I don’t allow strangers access to the location of my home.

8 – CockGobblers and BoogerWolves: An Open Letter

23 May

bitch please

Dear Andrew,

While I enjoyed our first promenade down memory lane, I do not wish to rehash any of the following PAST occurrences every time we talk:

v  Having sex on the side of the road in the woods

v  Me becoming completely nude in your truck[1] while you leisurely drove about town

v  Having sex in your driveway while MANY cars drove along the busy street you lived on

v  How nice/corruptible/virginal/naive I used to be[2]

v  How shy I used to be

v  How innocent I seemed until the proverbial door to the bedroom closed

v  How well (and often) I sucked your dick[3]

In case you have not realized, I have grown over the past ten years.  I now have a career[4], a car of my own, bills, a puppy, a Master’s degree, an acceptance to receive my Ph.D., and a dwindling set of dependable friends.  I do not want to talk about the past.  I want to talk about the present and the future.  I want to be proactive.  I do not find it attractive that, at thirty-eight years of age, you:

v  Don’t know the name of your daughter’s high school

v  Live at home with your mother…in HER house…

v  Have no job

v  Still drive around town while smoking weed

v  Smoke weed

v  Smoke Black-N-Milds

v  Can’t afford to buy your own plane ticket to come visit me[5]

There are so many things I find pathetic about you, on so many levels.  You are exactly what I am NOT looking for.  I am not one of your cockgobbling boogerwolves who would jump at the chance to do your laundry, pay your bills, and support your sorry ass.  You have not changed, at all, from the Andrew I used to know!  Also, if memory serves me correctly…you don’t exactly “SIZE UP” to my present level of man slaying expectations.  So, I definitely am not going to expend my valuable time, energy, and money on a thirty-eight-year-old, wee-dick wonder, who is still unable to figure out what he wants to be when he grows up.

So…it was lovely reconnecting…now I’ve gotta run and go do some grown-up stuff.  Call me once you’ve graduated from pull-ups to big boy pants.

Your Good Thing Got Up and Went,

1 Bad Girl 🙂


[1] Thank God for tinted windows!

[2] Read: Nothing like the chronic booger-wolf cock-gobblers you were accustomed to in your small town

[3] You never seem to want to talk about how infrequently you returned the favor

[4] That I fucking hate…but a career none-the-less!  In this economy, beggars can’t be choosers.

[5] And then had the audacity to ask me to buy the damn ticket!  HA!

6 – That’s Mister Detective Handcuffs to You: A Dating Odyssey in Two Parts

20 May

Neimans handcuffs

Saturday night was prom (yes, I teach high school…and if any of you are considering it, DON’T DO IT!) and I ended up there because I was hoping to seduce the hot Science teacher whose room is next to mine.  Also, I went because my spur-of-the-moment invite to the beach (by FWB Kenneth) flopped like an elderly man’s flaccid penis (and you know how I detest *old*).

Part One

My Chimerical Trip to the Beach: Thursday night Kenneth called me and asked me if I wanted to go to the beach with him that weekend.  And when I say Thursday night, I mean 9:00 pm –ish…so I say, “Sure.  Are we going in the convertible?”  Cause the drive is four to five hours, and I know he can’t think that I’m going to drive.  He hesitates.  “Well, you know the other car won’t make it, but the convertible is a gas guzzler.”  I don’t say anything.  I am thinking I know this dickweed can’t think I’m driving, because this last minute trip was not my idea!  I drive an SUV!  That’s a fucking gas guzzler, too! “I’ll have to work all that out.  I will give you more details about the trip tomorrow.”  So I remind him that I do have a dog, and I will need enough time to make arrangements for her.

Next day…

FWB calls me at 6:45pm, smack dab in the middle of me trying to pay attention to Jen Lancaster’s book talk!  I, obviously, did not answer the phone.  So I return his call around 8:00pm.  He explains that his parents will be at said destination, and that all accommodations are paid for…we just need to get there.  Okay, so I’m in!  My heart starts to race.  I begin to think that he *finally* wants to introduce me to his parents as his girlfriend (you are allowed to start laughing now, really, it’s okay) seeing as how we’ve been fucking around for the past three years…never mind the fact that he had a live-in girlfriend for 2.5 of those years (it’s all so convoluted…because the only reason they are no longer together is because she died due to sudden illness six months ago…and…well…FWB guy will have to be a separate post)!

Anywho…I begin to scramble around and attempt to pull this spur-of-the-moment trip off.  I also do my best job to ignore the nagging little voice in my head saying, “You shouldn’t go.  If he REALLY wanted to go with YOU then he would have given you a few days more of a notice.”  But I kicked that annoying little nagging bitch in the mouth and kept it moving!  I cleaned, washed, packed, shaved, plucked, and primped…all the while singing “He wants me to meet his family” ( Oh, God, if only I had said “No”).  I had even found a place, other than her normal boarding place, for my baby girl to stay for the weekend.  I was trying to find peace with the fact that she was late on her shots and would have to stay in a bootleg boarding place (for bootleg owners) while I paid THREE TIMES the amount I normally paid…just to pull this thing off!

I’m getting to the handcuffs part…really! J

It was 2:00 am before I went to bed.  I was supposed to drop my little lady off at Boot Leg Kennel, Inc, and then drive to Kenneth’s apartment by 7:30/8:00 am.  I don’t really know how it happened, but I totally overslept…to the tune of 9:15am.  I woke up feeling rested and completely ignorant of the fact that I was supposed to be on the road that very minute.  It hit me like lightening and I called.  An extremely pissy Kenneth answered the phone.

Me: I’m so sorry!  I overslept!  I slept right through my alarm, and I never heard your call!  I can be over there ASAP.  I’m already packed and everything.

Kenneth: How do you know I haven’t already left?

Me: Have you?

K: No…but now it’s too late.

M: No it’s not.  I can be over there in no time.  I’m already packed.  I’ve just got to drop the dog off.

K: Well…if you can be here in 45 minutes then we can go, but if it’s any later than that then I’m just going to make other plans to do something else.

Now, this is where I want to wedge my foot deeply into his ass while screeching my champion battle cry of “Fuck you!”  Is he fucking kidding?  I have 45 minutes to get there?  HA!

M (as nicely as possible because I have an explosive temper once ignited): No…don’t do it like that…I already have to take the dog to a bootleg kennel and pay three times the amount I normally would, due to the short notice.  I don’t want to drive all the way to your house, after doing that, and have you tell me that you don’t feel like going anymore!

K: Okay, then…I don’t think we should go.

M: You sure?

K: Yep.  I’ll talk to you later.

WOW!  Talk about let down…I got in the shower, sent FWB a text asking him (once more…making an idiot out of myself) if he was sure. He didn’t respond.  I called his phone, and he didn’t answer.  I called again (no…I don’t usually call a man back-to-back…extenuating circumstances) and this time he had turned the phone off.

…Bitch made ass n*&%a!

It was then that I realized (after at least four total hours of talk time between my mother and a good-advice-giving-girlfriend) that Mother Nature had done me a favor by not allowing me to wake up.  I didn’t need to go anywhere with him because I’m better than that shit (the real test will be when he calls again…I’m supposed to ignore the call a few times).

…So I guess I am going to prom…

Part Two

Detective Handcuffs was the lighthouse beacon that reeled me in as soon as I entered the threshold of the hotel.  I thought he was hotel staff, and I needed to know what floor the prom was on and how I could get there without stepping foot inside an elevator (Read claustrophobic control freak).  Dec. Handcuffs was more than willing to guide me to the lower-level of the hotel.  He told me that he was not hotel staff; however he was working the prom as security.

He told me that he remembered seeing me at work (stalker).  I remembered, too (after he jostled my memory by retelling the conversation I had with another co-worker while he was in the room).  And let me tell you, this man is handsome…handsome…handsome…Large shoulders and arms, 6’3”, smooth walnut brown skin, shaved head, well-spoken, in shape…ummm…and he had a loaded gun…and a pair of shiny silver handcuffs.  I caught sight of them and my mind spiraled into all sorts of sex fantasies involving HIM chained to a bed (lol) and me…well…you get the picture! J

Det. Handcuffs: So what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here without a date?

Me: Long story (sigh)…

D: Ya man ain’t treatin you right?

M: Something like that.

D: See, these young guys don’t know how to treat a woman.

M: (Laughing) Young!  You can’t be more than 35 or 37 yourself!

D: (REALLY laughing) Baby, I will be 47 on Monday.

GASP!  Old School Sexy Alert!  I think I’m rolling in my pre-dug grave!  I’m enchanted by an O.S.S.?  Damn!  There really is a first for everything!

M: You don’t look a day over 35!

D: Well how about we meet up on the third floor after this thing is over?

GULP!  I don’t do one-night stands (anymore).

M: Well, I guess I better go inside the banquet room and find my seat.

D: So you scared?

Then his hands came out of his pockets…oh no…married!  BOO!  I fled the scene with a sly laugh…hoping he got the message.  But, apparently, he did not because I spent the rest of the night “running” from him.  He sat at my table, coincidentally ended up in the picture line right behind me, and called his phone from my cell phone when all of us teachers left the table to do the Electric Slide with the students (damn Electric Slide).

He called me three times between 9:00pm – 11:00pm, leaving the same fucktarded message, “Hello.  This is Detective Handcuffs.  Someone called me from this number, and I am returning the call.” UGH!  I think that it is needless for me to say that I completely ignored him!  Dating a married man is a forbidden zone in my book.

The thing I learned from all of this is to never say never!  There really are some old school sexy men out there that I may, one day, consider…unmarried, preferably!  I feel sorry for Det. Handcuffs’ wife…he sucks as a husband.

5 – 2 Bare Breasts and 1 Margarita

18 May

pomegranate-margarita-sl-1672950-x

So, my birthday was last week…and I’m sure you’re wondering if I got any bday sex.  Yes!  I did…but I will say that it came in an unforeseen fashion (lol).  Kenneth made a date with me for the Friday night after my birthday.  I made sure to look as sexy as possible because he told me, before his arrival, that his time frame for MY birthday dinner with him could only last between 8:00-10:30 pm. I believe that it is pointless to say that I was *miffed* by the idea of him taking me out, booking me up, and not sealing the deal (once again…back to my grandmother’s wise advice about having a spare).  I do not have a spare.  I have am currently taking applications for one, however, I have yet to find something to my liking.

Okay…so back to the sexiness…I purchased the perfect “little black dress.”  I looked as though I had been molded inside this dress!  Spaghetti straps…knee length…oh, and the bodice of the dress buttoned-up, so I made sure that I left the top button undone (and I am VERY top heavy).  My mission was to lead him astray and commandeer his body, thereby keeping him in my bed all night long and away from whatever plans he made on MY bday dinner night.

I had one Pomegranate Margarita and I was completely loopy.  So loopy that while on the way back to my apartment, I began to reach my hands up into the sky once he dropped the top of his convertible…I arched my back and allowed the ripples of wind to whip through my fingers.  I felt so free, but yet trapped at the same time.  I wanted to do something that would REALLY conjoin me with the bond of nature, so I began to unbutton my dress.

Kenneth glanced over at me while I unbuttoned myself, and practically swerved off the road.  His hands were confused! One strove to cup my breast while the other steered the car along the sinewy road.  “What are you doing, girl?” he asked as he leered longingly at the cleavage peeping through the folds of my dress.  I smiled wickedly and then completely exposed myself (yes, it was dark…and yes, it was not a well lit road).  Kenneth seemed incredulous at how brazen I had become.  He looked at me as though he did not know me…and the truth is, he doesn’t.

When I was in undergrad, I did stuff like that all the time (without the influence of ANY drugs)…I did it because I felt like it, and because whomever I was with was very accepting of me…my TRUE (uninhibited) self.  Not many men are capable of handling that.  After that moment, I really did feel free…I realized that what I had done was more for me than for him, when initially, I thought I was doing it only to capture his attention.

When Kenneth dropped me off that night, he came in for a while…but still no bday sex. The next day, however, he did call and stop by to deliver a quickie.  I think the image of the dress combined with my bare breasts blowing in the wind was too much for him to say no to.