Don't Buss Yo Pussy Open for Niggas That Run In the Same Circle-- A Club Story

Hey Muffins!

Hope all is well with everyone out there in Blogland. As things are winding down to my departure date from NY, I've been going out in hopes of having fun.

*rolls eyes*

Can somebody please tell me where the eff is all the fun to be had in this city that is NY?? Very rarely have I gone out and had fun (unless I was shitfaced drunk).

K dragged me out to Quo (formerly Prime, formerly whatever else, cause these mafuckas switch up names so much I can't even keep count) again this week in hopes to find her ex-jump off to make him jealous. We saw him there last week and he dissed her.

*Monie sighs, lights up a cigarette, and puts her feet up on the Ottoman*

Let me just say this. Ladies, if your pop off plays you; just take it in stride and keep it moving. Don't get it in your mind that you are his woman and try making him jealous. He gives not a fuck, and neither should you.

We'll press on this topic later though.

*raised eyebrows*

I digress...

Sooo, for one, last night was damned brisk. And it was raining. I didn't anticipate standing on line since we went with the promoters, but apparently, promoters truly ain't shit anymore because even they can't get anyone in the club. We got there 10-ish (which as most of you know is mad early for NY nightlife) so we were able to beat the $30 club charge. Since when did women have to pay over $20 anywhere??

That recession is still rockin out hard, huh?

So. Me and K are there along with some other Chucky Cheese hos

the promoters brought along with them. Like, no lie. They were 20 and 21. The 20 year old had to pay the bouncer to let her in. Now, ain't nothing wrong with young hos; cause afterall, once upon a time I was a young ho.

However...these dudes are like 25 and up. Why the hell they rocking out with babies, I don't know. And they weren't even cute babies. :(

One of them seriously needed to be swaddled in a fleece blanket and taken back to her crib.

The child had on a pleather jacket that criscrossed so her entire chest was out, some tight black sweater dress and kitten heels. Her hair was a hot atrocity both before the rain and after. This bitch had no umbrella, no hood, not even a plastic shower cap. We stood on that line for about half hour. By the time we got in she was soaked. K felt so bad for her she bought her a shot of Patron to warm her up. Lawd, I pray she don't catch pneumonia.

Now, I call myself not drinking anymore, but I needed to warm up too, so I had 2 shots of Patron. Which did absolutely nothing. Not even a buzz. :(

Anywho, the Romper Room hos go off and do their thing, and we go meet up with the promoters after we leave the bar. These wack ass niggas are all sitting around in the VIP section, on their Blackberries, doing and saying absolutely nothing.

So I whipped out my Blackberry and headed over to that nice, warm place that always makes me feel so...fuzzy inside. Yup:

*rolls eyes*

Mannnnn....when you have to be on Facebook in the clubhouse you know it's bad!

So, I'm on there; K's dancing around on the prowl for ex jumpsy, but spots this other dude she thought was cute.

Now, I will admit I thought he was cute... til she pointed out he had gold toofisis.

*pause for the mafuckin' cause*

Why is a grown ass man (30 years old!) rocking gold toofisis?? Can somebody explain this to me. I've always thought the shits were plain nasty, but come on! After that, I was and still am against him. :(

So when he goes off she gives me the run down on him. He's 30; friends with the promoters (they --along with the ex-jumpsy mind you--all grew up in the same neighborhood, but he recently moved); he's a C.O.


And then she's like how she's "going to have him wrapped around her finger"; how "she's gonna lock him down cause he has benefits"

*Monie pauses, lights another cigarette, and accidentally sets the end of her lacefront wig on fire.She stops. Drops. And rolls.*



I can't... bitch done made me mess up my good wig out'chea!!

I love my girl. Truly. We go all the way back to My Little Pony and Skip It days, but she is damn oblivious when it comes to men.



For one; please don't think you're doing a good thing trying to lock some man down because he has benefits. The only way this benefits you is if he puts a ring on it. Only then are you entitled to half of anything. If you do get pregnant, trust and believe there still ain't much "benefits" when you try to stick child support on that ass. The court ain't all that nice. They too realize you ain't the wife.

You
WON'T
get
half.

(I'm putting that on a tshirt)

So anyway.

Nothing exciting really happened in the club. Around 2 am the Promotion Team finally bought a mafuckin bottle of Goose, and while I don't really care for Goosey anymore, I figured that a lil bit would help me loosen up and not give a fuck that the DJ couldn't play worth a damn. I had a glass straight, and while I felt that woozy-pussy-popping feeling I used to live for when I drank...nothing. I finally just sat my ass down and got on Facebook til the night was over. At 4:30 am. So that means we spent approximately 6 hours in the club. *smdh*

Of course while we're in the car K is going on and on about the new nigga. Let's just name him. We'll call him Goldie Redbone , or "Goldie Red" for short since that describes him to a Tee.

I can already sense this may get messy:

See, K used to mess with J; the boy she was crazy about last January (Go'n and click that there); and J's roomate H (one of the promoters) hangs out with Goldie Red. Now, H used to be over there all the time when K and J were slaying it out, and probably knows K buss her pussy open for J on the first night she met him after the club. Now H., Goldie Redbone, and the rest of the promoters drove in the same car. Anddd as I mentioned before; they all know Ex Popoff.

I wouldn't be surprised if H told Goldie Red about K and J because on the ride home Goldie Red calls up and K and says he wants to see her later on that night. Hmph.

Monday afternoon this crazy girl BBMs me talking about he came by her job, and how he's really sexy (I still beg to differ, but if she like it, i LOVE it) and he has these piercing eyes, and it's going to be so hard to resist him.

*Blank damn stare*

I laid it on her straight and told her she better not hit that til March because niggas talk more than bitches *shrug* and somebody probably told him in that car that you ain't hard to smash out. So she's like, "True. I know. I'm going to wait. I don't know if I can though"
I told her try a new thing, and get new results.

So we shall see.


Don't get me wrong; I ain't judging her. None of this is anything I haven't said to her face. And besides, who am I to even judge; looking at my own track record with niggas. Ha! The good thing is, I've done most of my (not much) dirt abroad so I don't have to worry about this ex running into that one :)


And that's all for right now. I'm about to go wash my own hair with my broke ass, cause I'm flying out to DC this evening. Aowzah!!

Why I Declare! I Regret You, but I Don't Regret the Orgasms and Other Cynacisms

So as I sat flipping through the man-o-log of my life, having silent conversation with myself (as i usually do); i thought about the men I've smashed, and realized that I regret all of them.

*Monie lights Marlboro Light, puffs, and exhales*

(I have switched brands...I've also quit, but in my mind, I'll always be a smoker--hehe)


So yeah, every last one. Except for the orgasms.

The orgasms were quite magical and I 'preciates 'em, as it can be quite hard for a female to achieve one, much less several as I have been lucky enough to gain.

I have given up on finding "that perfect love" that I so wanted earlier this year. Fuck love. I'd take a cheeseburger (preferably flame broiled) and some good cock over love any day.


I will settle dammit. I will settle for good, consistent dick, that is. Because these
"relationships" are nothing but a headache. Sex cures a headache, by the way. It's scientifically proven! Go'n and click dis here.

Should I ever settle down, I want a husband who is always away on travel. Except for the weekend. Weekends were made not only for Michelob,


but for hours of hardcore frolickin'.

I mean, I could always hold out for a good man, but by that time, I may be old, he more than likely will be ugly, and to be quite frank...a bitch aint got time for that.

And that is all for today.

xoxom0nie

Lights, Camera, Action... Blackberry Porn

Blog Muffins! How art thou?

So...when last I wrote, I was contemplating on whether I should become a Blackberry porn star. Well... lights, camera, action, move aside Miss Jackson, dammit, there's a new starlett in town. *Cacklin*


We shot a lil scene Friday evening. I thought I'd be shy, but oddly enough, I'm not.

Maybe I'm just that comfortable with #4? It could have to do with the fact that I know he's not tech savvy and there's no way he could take it from my phone and put it on to his, or worse, upload it to gatdamn Youtube.

*cue in scary movie music*

But yeah, I'm quite comfortable being filmed. It may have to do with the fact that I think I'm cute and know my skills *shrug*

Few things I noticed were:

- I really am that damn good. Not to toot my own horn or anything *beep beep* but my performance was flawless. Like, some of these porn hos could learn a thang or two from the old gal Simone.

- I see why porn stars rock weaves. *sigh*
I was all set, yall! I had my hair all did up, put the front part up in a lil Chrisette Michele type pompadour,


but unfortantely #4 cant control his fuckin hands, and messed my shit up. Had the sides of my hair looking like Lovelace from mafuckin Happy Feet.


Not. cute. at. all.

-That Blackberry video camera light is brighter than African sunshine on an Albino's backside.


Like, I word up wanted to hit pause, throw on some Ray Charles type shades, some mafuckin sunblock and then continue handlin' my bidness.




Wtf? Damn, somebody couldn't warn a bitch?!

- Must find a way to get my nails done, or at least make sure my nails are painted at all times. I knew I had man hands, but gaaahdamn! Not attractive!!

- My eyes really are big. Now, this is a fact I've always been aware of, so for this reason I made sure to keep my eyes down for most of the mini flick. But even when they're closed...they're huge! Maybe next time I'll put some eyeshadow on 'em. Play it up a bit.

- Poor #4... got some nappy ass pubic hairs. Like, they need a cholesterol treatment, a hot oil treatment...or something.


They are in fact so nappy, that i was handling down there the other day and thought he had a bump or something. Of course I started freaking out, and he unraveled the pube like it was nothing. *blank muthafuckin stare*

I mean damn, they always felt nappy, but seeing them higlighted by Blackberry's lovely flash... makes them appear even worse. I can't...


So with that said, this lil broadcast needs a do-over. I shall try again this evening. Or something. I mean, I got free time on my hands and shit. *shrug* :D

In other events, I'm still here chillin. Me and #4 still fighting like cats and dogs. He ride my fuckin nerves I tell you. I like him best at night when he thinks I'm asleep. for one, he aint talking shit, and two, he hugs me and kisses my forehead and whispers sweet stuff. But when we're both up and alert... heaven help me talk to strangers!! I can't take him. He still makes me laugh, and he's still adorable though. What can I say? I'm a sucker.

That's all for now, folks.
Later gators!!

monie00x0x

Random Shit & Possible Youtube Shame

Ay dere muffins!!

I swear... my stomach always wants to act up when I'm out and about. I was just at my own spot, and now that I'm in the internet cafe... here comes the doo-doo monster doing the walk it out in my intestines. :(




#4 and i were "frolicking" (my new name for head-acrobatics, lol) and in the midst of me doing my thing he asks me, "Do you ever get tired?" I thanked him for his concern; told him that, yes, I do, but I am determined to be the best at everything I do (damn perfectionism). I then asked him to be quiet, and bust a nut so I can feel like I accomplished something today. *blank damn stare*

After mission got accomplished he tells me that I get better and better every time and then says "I wanna record you on my phone"

Ermmm.... Now, I'm all for freaky shit, I really am (so long as it doesn't involve my asshole or any baby batter in my mouth), but I've always been iffy about being recorded.

What happens if/when I become famous??

(Yeah, I know, its a bit far fetched, but for some reason I see red carpet in my future)

I don't wanna be a victim of youtube!

But dammit, I got caught up and agreed to it...after I did my hair...because it's been looking like hot shit due to the fact I had a lil cold and couldn't wash it.

So I guess if I'm ever shamed via youtube, at least I can say my hair looked nice that and healthy that evening due to this ApHogee protein treatment I'm about to put in it. *cacklin'*


I will also be a wee-bit proud of myself, because I have skills to rival Superhead. *shrug*

Anywho, I'm on an internet limit, so that's all for now. Perhaps tommorow?

Later Gators!

xoxomOnie
(always talking shit)

Livin' the Dry Life

Bloggymuffins! How art thou?!

First, I'd like to thank all of you who have been following, both new and old, leaving comments and all of that. I read each and every one, but I'm barely able to respond these days. After I finish a day's work on the computer I can't even bear to look at Blogger or any other site. Ok, I lie. I lay in bed and facebook it up. It's pretty much the only contact I have w/my old friends back in MD and other parts of NY. Good news though. My Blackberry Tour comes today, so I'll be on here more. Yay!

But yeah, it means a lot to me to know that ya'll get a tickle and a tee-hee out of my wierd-ness. Also, I'm going to see if I can archive my entries as someone asked. Thx for all your comments girlie! :)

On the personal side:
DRIER THAN GUCCI MANE'S LIPS ON A COLD, ALASKAN DAY.

Brrrr!

I wish this mafucka would find a cocobutter cure, or something.


Yea.. not much going on over here. Now that K is trying to launch her business into a full service salon, we don't get into too much fuckery these days. Plus, now that I don't drink I find myself questioning the types of live fuckery before my eyes in the clubhouse.

Like-- I went on Sunday with my sister and her friend to this joint in Brooklyn:


*breathing in, i am breathing in...*

Now, I hadn't been to Caribbean City in like, over 5 years. All's I knew was that Bobby Konders & Jabba still played there on a Sunday. Bobby & Jabba usually do their thing so I reasoned with myself that although this was not Manhattan, and many of the mafuckas up in there were bound to be sub par... I'mma go head and go. Just for the sake of my sister; since she hasn't been out much since she had the baby.

We leave out after midnight and I arrive at Caribbean City around 2. The line is short, which is good, as it was colder than a prostitute's titty in the winter time.

The security search is borderline molestation, and something comparable to airport search. Yes. The make you put your purse in a basket; they go through it thoroughly and then hand it back for you to put everything back in order.

So...I'm getting ready to make my way inside when the coat check nigga demands I take off my cute little faux-leather jacket.
Nawwww, nigga, fuck you.

I ain't putting my batwings on display for nobody!

So yeah, I told him I didn't think so, made a motion of hands over my body and told him it was part of my outfit. He backed off and let me go inside...

and inside looked like...like.... Shanquantifon's basement bash.
Wtf. I had heard there were renovations in there, and it looked 10x shittier than it did before.

Disastrous, ya'll hear me??!! And the people in there knew nothing about clothes and matching them for the seasons.

• I saw hos in flip flops
• Hos in sling back sandals
• One bitch had on her Club Socks... you know, the chicks that are like "I have these corns and know I have no damn bid'ness wearing these pumps, so I'mma just take 'em off, hold 'em in my hand, and lounge in my barely there dress and some ankle socks"
• One bitch had on some lumberjack arm warmers and knee high houndstooth socks.

and the #1 sin for the night: big woman, like atleast a size 24 wearing a halter top and skirt, NO BRA, tittyballs just'a hanging down low like whoa. TWO DIFFERENT COLOR(blonde and black) AND DIFFERENT TEXTURE WEAVE... and dudes were putting it on her like she was hotness.

*breathing out, i am breathing out...*

I have sworn off clubs (again). I would love to have like, weekly game nights, but some of the folks I know here in NY-- I wonder if they really even know how to read. I damn near need the Rosetta Stone just to decipher their text messages/fb statuses.

Seriously. I went to school with some real Leap Frog Learn To Read type bitches.


For instance, I saw the following status update from a high school chum:

hey fb, i'm so board the hubby wen t to play basketball and the little one is gone for the hole week my aunt wanted to spend some time wit her but i miss her already smh...


No, no, bitch, I am shaking my head.

Yeah... I'm supposed to play Scrabble and Tabu, etc, with folks like that?? I don't think so. I have a better chance playing a game of Spades with my 2 year old nephew, my cat Dinka and my imaginary baby chicken, Byron. I think not.

What else, what else...

Oh yeah. Sex life is sketchy too.

D/m is actually pretty busy and I understand why now. Like I said, I have been trying my best to have actual conversations with him. He's working on getting a degree in Occupational Therapy, not a Masters in Finance like I thought. So he's got to study like crazy. He started explaining to me what he was actually studying for, but that damn logorrhea problem he has became so overwhelming I just asked to see one of his textbooks.

I was impressed. He basically has to learn a whole bunch of doctor-type stuff without having a background in science, so he's got to work double hard.

So between both of us working on bettering ourselves education-wise... there's not much time for relations the way we like to have relations. The last time I got the business from him, we went in for two rounds and I didn't get in until after 4 am. The next day I received all types of hate texts from him complaining about being tired at work. I figure we were even since I had to get up and perform Dr. Miracle type wonders on my hair to head into Manhattan.

*shrug*


So yeah, as you guys can see...life's good, cause I'm alive..but it is, as my Cali folks would say, "hella" boring.
And that's all... Lator Gators!

"Good Hair"-- Fuck a Drawstring Ponytail-- the shit Chris Rock Forgot to Include

So I know some of you were moved by the fact that sodium hydroxide (hair relaxer) can melt a can of soda.

Some of you probably cringed in your chair, and swore off perms for life.

*snorts*

I watched that scene, shrugged, helped myself to some more popcorn and told myself that as long as this Mizani perm continues to make me feel sexier than Prince, I'mma fuck wit it.

Til my proverbial wheels roll down to the hub caps.

Because in my opinion "Good Hair" is whatever makes you feel and look good.

Your hair should not define who you are as a person.


Now, Chris Rock, one of my best and dearest friends (in my head) left out one important part in this documentary. But never fear. As always, I'mma bring you the forgotten culprit on why some hos out here are running around here bald.



Naw, it ain't no damn alopecia I'm talking about. I'm talking about the

(wait for it...wait for it.....)

The Draw String Ponytail

Mutha FUCK a sodium hydroxide, the draw string ponytail/pin-up bun is one of the worst things you could ever do to your hair and scalp.

Take it from me.

Once upon a time, in what seems like a faraway land (DC metro area!) I put my trust in a drawstring ponytail due partly to the fact that i couldn't find a consistent hairdresser.

The other reason: back then I would rather spend my money on bottles of Patron, Vodka, and Chipotle. Needless to say, there just wasn't much money to stretch on the necessities (hair, juice -yes, I never bought juice, but I'd fill up at friends' houses:)--, groceries, things like that).

I digress.

So let me tell ya'll--- I loved those draw string ponytails!
I'd rock it down low; I'd rock it up high, to the side, in the middle, with a pompadour; you couldn't tell me shit.
It was like miracle hair in a plastic bag for 8 bucks!

Now as with anything in life, the drawstring ponytail had it's pros, and dammit, it had its cons.

Me and the ponytail would always have a problem when it came to sex and alcohol.

After a night of drinking it always ended up in the strangest of places; like behind my computer desk, in the back of someone's car (and I'd have to call the whole crew to ask had they seen my ponytail-- and this is a question that is ALWAYS met by laughter), my drinking glass cabinet, and one time that bitch even made an appearance at work ... in the sleeve of my cardigan.

The drawstring ponytail aint sex-friendly neither. Missionary is not an option- you will end up with a mean headache and cuts in your scalp. Backshots are not an option either- because men get carried away and wanna grab shit and there goes your ponytail along with a good amount of your own hair on the ground, and that's you in the spotlight looking like a baldheaded donkey.
* Enter imaginary donkey*
*Imaginary donkey brays 'heehaw heehaw*

Also, there is nothing sexy about pulling off your hair and quickly trying to put it in your purse while your gentleman friend is off in the bathroom or something. There's no way you can finagle this into something sensual. Plus, its not like you can just place the muthafucka on a nightstand or dresser. Men who aren't your boyfriend get scared by shit like that.

So anyway, after months of rocking this draw string ponytail, my hair started breaking at the roots because two little combs that practically dig into your scalp hold the drawstring ponytail in place. And that my friends, is one of the main reasons I stand before you today rocking my new short and fabulous cut.

My hair now, is good hair. It makes me feel good, and it looks good when it's done.

When it ain't... well, that's a whole nother story. I don't drink anymore (yes, it's true, folks pick up your jaws) or dance like I'm trying out for Save the Last Dance anymore, so the sweat factor isn't really an issue.

Is it relations friendly? Nope. But that's the beauty of not having a boyfriend.
You can schedule dick prior to when you're going to the hair salon.

*Turns 'Single Ladies' on full blast and does a tranny dance*

*Exit stage*

bwwahahaahahahaa!!

Later Gators!

Jamaica--Scandalocity, Trollopcy, Pussy Stop Signs and Sociopaths

Muffins... I am dead ass tired, but after tomorrow, life is back to a halt thanks to school. The syllabi is threatening to cause nervous breakdown, heart disease, kidney failure, cancer, and just straight up... DEATH. So I regret to inform you... my antics will be a bit scarce til after Thanksgiving.
Let's recap, shall we?

*Monie props her legs up on the coffee table, picks her nose, looks at it...shrugs... and flicks it across the living room*

:)p

Let's talk about #4 and his madness.
*sigh*

I don't think I have ever argued with someone this much in my entire life. usually when i get into a cuss-out with a person, i'm in beef mode for like weeks, but #4 has a knack for making me laugh in the midst of what could be intense anger for me. Very much like in that Notorious movie where Big had Faith laughing by singing her some silly song.

And I don't like that shit. Don't rob me of my anger, dammit!

It would take too long to give the full story on all of #4's madness, but here's a un-ordered list of his fuckery

• #4 feels that it's ok to take the very last condom we have (that I brought) and keep it in his pocket.. "just because, no reason." this story will be explained later, as it makes no sense right now. carry on.
• #4 also believes that it is ok to take a girl to a bar "to have a nice evening out".
• #4 lied about his age. It turns out that he is not turning 28, but is in fact 24 going on 25. I saw his birth certificate.

now i interrupt this list to give you the story behind the condom. I shall call it:

I'm Walking Around With This Condom In My Pocket... Just Because- a short story.


So...the second week I was there, I went to visit my sister in Montego Bay for the weekend. Left Saturday, came back Monday. Left #4 with the key to my suite so he could come and go as he pleased. Even though I was on my own trifling bullshit (we'll talk about that later) I see that #4 is in fact up to some bullshit of his own.

That Friday before I left #4 and I had some of our usual mindblowing sex, and that left us with one condom. Jill Scott said it best, "one is the magic number."
Anywho, I made sure I put that one condom where I could see it in the nightstand.

Cause life is always about tests. Pass, Fail bitches.

So you can imagine my disbelief when I came back to the suite and saw NO CONDOM and some weed in the nightstand. I called my cousin and K (who happened to be in Jamaica--she was in Kingston though) screaming and packing up his shit.

Me: So I come back and WHY is the last condom we had missing? What the fuck? I know he doesn't have the nerve to fuck some next bitch w/ the condoms I done bought with my money. And I swear he better not have fucked her in my room.
*packing his clothes and setting them on the chair with two lada (plastic) bags on top for anything he may not be able to fit in the two bags he had. that's me, always being thoughtful :D*
K: that's crazy.... *launches into her own issues w/ her pop-off/boo in NY named Ty* Me: I got to go.
(Precisely why I have a therapist. Anytime I need to talk, people wanna launch into their own shit. Spare me)

So I call my lil cousin and tell her.

Little Cousin: Well you can't really be mad anyway, you had sex w/ someone else.
Me: Yeah, but still. Whatever. Whatever! I'm glad i did it. The shit was good too. Either this nigga produce this condom, which I doubt he will or he get the fuck out.
Little Cousin: We'll see.
So in strolls #4 around 11pm after work that night. I'm so mad I'm smoking cigarettes in my non-smoking room, and can hardly even speak to him.

So he goes on the veranda, smokes his weed, comes back in and says:

Him: So what's the matter now? Me: I'm not quite ready to talk about it.
So he starts guessing.

The second guess he hits it on the head.

Him: You don't see the condom in the drawer? Me: Yeah, where is it? Him: I just took stuff out the draw and put it in my pocket out of habit. Me: Yeah, but why would you take the condom? Who else are you fucking. Him: No one Me: Apparently someone. What made you take it w/ you?
to make a long story short we get to arguing and then he goes into his book bag and pulls out the condom and throws it on the bed.
Him: There it is. Me: So why are you carrying it around with you anyway?? Him: Why does it matter. It's right there. You just like to argue.

And on and on we go for about an hour why he can't just tell me why he took it with him in the first place. Never did get an answer. Don't really care. All I know is he be on his shit, and I be on mine. We agree to disagree.

*shrug*

The End


Aside from this we had several other arguments. Last Saturday he was supposed to take me on a Glass Bottom boat, and it didn't work for whatever reason. So of course I'm disappointed because he's been promising to take me since April. Even though the whole boat thing fell through, one would think that he'd find something else for us to do, but no, instead he's chopping it up w/ his friends. So I tell him I'm going across the street to the beach and he's asking me why I have an attitude. This turns into a disagreement that almost gets out of hand right there on the Negril 7 mile strip with both of us cussing each other out. There were even tears afterwards (shed by me out of anger, cause I wanted to rip his head off).

I think that was probably the last blow out we had, and everything was ok from then on. I don't want to fall for #4 and the up and down dysfunction and madness, but i have a little soft spot for his crazy ass. We agree that we do not understand each other much, but our spirits take to one another.
*rolls eyes*

Now lets talk about Sugar... the other 24 year old that popped off with.

This happened the same weekend of the above condom incident.

*raised eyebrows*

Now before I even got down to Mo Bay, her neighbor/ homeboy was checking for me. Apparently he saw me when I first arrived in Jamaica and stopped by my sister's house and proclaimed "it was love at first sight."

*Monie casts one of her infamous "nigga please" looks*

So, i wasn't even trying to hear his lameness... until I actually met him and saw what he looked like.

*Monie crosses and uncrosses her legs as she rocks back and forth*

Lawdy jeezus lawdy jeezus! The boy was damn...FINE. Ya'll hear me?

• Had the face--caramel complexion, chinky bedroom eyes, GAWGEOUS lips, nice nose, pretty teeth)
  
• Had the body---he must be drinking some extra fortified milk because he was thick to DEATH, but lean at the same time, nice pecs, legs, and an ass to rival Asafa Powell's.
• And he knew it, and thus, had that cockiness about him that I adore in a man. LOL
  

So I met him that Sunday. He came over to help out with cooking for the party. I'm inside the living room eyeing him, and he's eying me from the backyard, but I'm the type of girl who rarely puts herself out there.

I let them come hither.

Not cause I think I'm just the baddest bitch...but because I'm somewhat shy :)

So I go outside to get a paper towel close to where he is...cause I was sweating, plus I wanted to get a closer look. He's all smiling at me, and I smile back and go inside. Still no words exchanged. Next thing I know there's a huge downpour of rain and everyone runs inside the house. My sister brings him into her room to me and tells us to start talking.

So we're there making conversation. He's got me all nervous because he's staring at me and killing me with compliments. I didn't know what to do with myself.
As always, there's some shit to stink things up:

• He has a girlfriend
• He's 24
• He lives with his girlfriend
  

You know... same way it always goes for me. Someone play the violins, please.

Anyway, we start talking about physical attraction and sex, and here he goes telling me that even though he loves his girlfriend and he's happy with her, he would like the chance to be with me because he thinks we'd be good together. And even though he's young, he knows how to please a woman and how to make her comfortable

*crickets*

Boy puh-lease!!

But of course me being me, I'm always curious. So I entertain this madness and start asking questions. Next thing I know, he's lifting me up and bouncing me around like I weigh practically nothing. Now my curiosity is at its peak.

We both decide that we should fuck each other the following day.

So that next day is Monday and I'm going back and forth between should I do it/ should I not.

I reflect on the prior afternoon's Ving Rhames bounce-around and decide that I should.


It was rather good... but recalling it all now... not as good as #4. Additionally, his dick ain't as big as #4's. Overall, I'd give the pipe-game a 7.5. Also, might I add.. he gots to be one of the sweatiest mafuckas i ever smashed. I understand it's JA and the house had no AC but damn!

Word to the wise- several positions are great, however, don't switch things up too quickly.

But of course, as it always goes w/the Monie...this nigga tried to violate.

He tried to stick me without a condom.

Ya'll know I'm not in for that. I had to pull out the Pussy Stop Sign real quick.


Nigga, Halt!!!

See, we started off using the condom, and all was well. Halfway through, he decides he needs a break and takes it off, knowing we only had one. So I ease back from him and I'm chillin, however he's got other ideas in mind.

He was trying to convince me to just go for it, how he gets tested, and he never has sex with anyone but his girl.

Um, how bout no.

Nigga, you here creeping with me, but you don't have sex with anyone else???
You trifling.
So am I... but we talking about his ass right now.

Anywho. So he keeps trying to convince me, then tried to throw raw shaft on your girl. I promptly got up and started putting on clothes. After that he gave up and he went home to go shower.

I have not heard from his since. Nor do I care.

*shrug*

So, yes, that was those were the scandalous parts of my vacay. Aside from all that, I did a great deal of partying and chillin w/ my little cousin. Also getting to understand why it is #4 is the way he is. Not that I should care, but I'm curious about human behavior.

And his leads me to believe he's a socio-path. Go'n and click that there... you might have a sociopath in your cipher too. Those are the signs.

Sociopath and all, I have a little soft spot in my heart for #4-- which is not good. If you read that shit right there you will see that I need to leave him alone posthaste. We'll see how it all plays out. I'm trying to head back to the JA in December for a month. If I stay with him I can save a great deal of money and be okay to move into my DC apartment.

Yes, I know. Stupidity aflame, but hey... we all have our moments :D
I promise to do better...next year. LOL

Later Gators!

xomonie!

Stay tuned for the updates

Hey Blogbabies!

I know, I have been scarce. So much to tell you all about. Limited internet access because I have moved in #4's place the last week I'm here to save money. Unfortunately I will be bringing my trip to an end this Wednesday, but on the upside...scandalocity to come.

I done got some insurance dick from... let's call him Sugar. Cause that's what he likes to call himself for some strange reason I don't know. And wooo chile... Sugar slings the D like whoa. Details to come of how he picked me up and bounced me around like Ving Rhames did Mama in Babyboy

Additional fights between #4 and I... and how I felt myself gearing up to slap him with a piece of fruit.

And other tidbits from my vacay.

I know I have some folks to follow... I didn't forget ya'll ! and thanks for following me! I appreciate it.

monie

Summer's Eve Is For Your Vagina...and Other Realizations

things that this vacay has taught me about myself thus far:

i ain't meant for relationships/roomates. i know i always hem and haw about wanting one... but i'm selfish about certain shit. for one:

- i don't like anyone smoking up my cigarettes, leaving my ciggy case with like 3 ciggs in there.

sure, share the cancer and all that, but dammit, if you're not chipping in, go find your own, per Napoleon Dynamite.


It never fails! Every time I put my cigarette case down, #4 swipes more than half. What the fuck? Have some consideration!

and for two:

-don't use my Summer's Eve thinking its Body Wash. It's not. That shit is strictly for my vagina hole.

Lemme explain. I have a process for washing my vag.
Go'n and click that there. If you wash like this I PROMISE you, you're coochie will never smell off. You could be out all day and it will smell perfect. Unless you got some kinda infection, and in that case, I can't help you there. Planned Parenthood is where you should take your stankin coochie.

Anywho, Summer's Eve usually lasts me like 2 months.

I'm in the shower this morning, done washed the outer part of my coochie, and reach for the Summer's Eve and it feels awfully light. So I'm cracking up laughing and partially pissed because this could only mean #4 been bathing with my Summer's Eve.

Today we went to the Supermarket and I bought some more because I can't live without it. And of course they ain't got the Berry Bliss one for sensitive skin.

To top all this madness off they keep things like this behind a counter with a clerk so I have to ask if they sell Summer's Eve. Wtf????? But I had to buy it cause my vagina's PH would probably go haywire without it.

When we come back to the suite and we're unpacking groceries, I go to the bathroom to get my almost-empty bottle of Summer's Eve Berry wash.
Cause it's obvious I gots to school this nigga.

Clearly the Summer's Eve commercials don't come on in the JA cause he would have known.

*Monie holds up the bottle of Summer's Eve*
Have you been bathing with this?

*#4 looks at me like I'm stupid*
Yeah.

Me: It's for your vagina
*insert hysterical laughter*

#4...he's an adamant mafucka...

#4: No it's not! The one you bought is not the same. It doesn't say that on the bottle.

Me (still laughing): it's the same. this one is for normal skin. but summer's eve is for vagina. use the Avon body wash please. Thanks.

Other shit I realize:

-I hate food shopping with men. They always wanna buy the entire store and cook like they're cooking for 7-10 people and not 2.

- What is the point in being bunned up if dude aint gonna tell you how fly you look whenever you go out?

- Even though I have Jamaican background there's clearly some shit that doesn't transfer over the culture barriers.

Story time!

The other day I get a call in the room and its the chef here asking for #4. So I tell him he's at work. So while I got him on the phone I ask him if he has a trash bag and he says yeah, come for it. When I get there he starts talking about #4 saying that's his friend and whatever.

So somehow we got on the topic of cooking and I was telling him that i was making dinner and he asks if he can taste my hand (can he taste the food). No big deal; I run him up a plate and go get on the internet.

So I mention it to #4 later that night and he got PISSED. Like, I have never seen him this pissed. He's like how anyone could tell me anything and he don't know the guy like that and I know all his friends and how my head is light (basically saying I'm an airhead). So I tell him he's making a big deal of nothing, and go to the bathroom. He comes into the bathroom after me and says:

"I'm checking to make sure you're not in here cutting your wrists. Cause I know you're crazy."

Yup. Pause and light a cigarette.

So I say to him:

"You better get the fuck away from me before I cut you."

Him (mad): What??

Me: You heard me. Why would you even say that shit to me? Where am i supposed to get a knife from anyway

Him: Cut me? I will shoot you.

He starts going off about how too many of his friends have died at the hands of a woman. I'm not surprised. If they were anything like him...mhn

Me: Do it then.

So we get into arguing again and I'm telling him he's basically mad at me for something I did that I didn't even know was wrong. We both go to bed. I wake up; I'm over it, but he's not. He's ignoring me the whole day.

So I wrote him a letter since he refused to talk.

Him: What is this?

Me: A letter.

#4 proceeded to set my letter on fire and throw it in the sink.

Yup... pause and drink some water.

So by now I'm upset to the point of tears cause I'm angry. So he comes to me and says "If you want to talk, talk"

So I'm basically telling him that I thought dude was his people cause he called the room. Why would he give out the room number if it was some random person. He calms down a bit after that and says:

"The guy saw me go to work today. Called to me and everything. So he must have other reasons why he's calling up there"

I'm like , hell how would I know all that. So after we clear that up he tells me he just needs some time and space. Cool, whatever. The next day he comes home from work and he's telling me how much he cares about me this that and the third. Bla bla blaaaah

Whatever.

That happened Tuesday, and things have been cool since. He took me to Margaritaville and a few other clubs since then so we're alright now.

Boy this shit I put up with for the love of nightlife and multiple orgasms...

Other than that... I guess I'm alright. We went out last night and had a good time after his weed fit. He has a serious weed problem. I lost his weed and he was acting like a fucking head case. I asked him if he was going through withdrawal. He got mad and took a shower in the dark.

Probably with Summer's Eve. Lmao

This afternoon we had a ball talking about music and I realized why I liked him in the first place. Cause the past few days I had forgotten.

So yeah...shit like this is why I can't be in a relationship. I know ya'll are like, duh Monie, clearly he aint relationship material. Yup, I totally understand that. But it's just a lesson that you have to accept people for their quirks and strange behaviors along with the good parts.

I can't do it.

I just can't...

later blog babies. i got some subscribin' to do! :)

hey blogbabies!!!

i've been scarce. here enjoying Jamaica for the third time around this year. partying, minimal drinking, a smattering of mosquito bites... and #4 is back up in the mix.

*blank damn stare*

yeah, i know.. but a chick got needs. also, i have to give credit where its due.. he's been coming out the pockets for me since i got here. i guess he learned his cheap ass lesson. ya'll remember the cheap shit he pulled (go'n and click that there). however, #4 has quite a few aliases...and shit like that gets me to wondering. keep reading, i'll get to that later.

I flew in Wednesday, and Thursday my favorite cousin came to stay with me. we haven't seen each other in 5 years (she's been in England), but it was just like old times.

On Friday #4 took us out to the go-go/dancehall club (Scrub-a-dubs) and we had the best time and lots of laughs and jokes. We ended up sleeping over his house because he cussed out the security guard lady and then she cussed us all out and told me i couldn't have my guests stay because i have a single occupancy room. so now thanks to him anytime i have an overnight guests, i can't just be cool w/ security, i gotta pay $15 for every over night stay.
ugh.
that shit is gonna add up. so im lightweight torn between staying and finding somewhere else to stay. i will make up my mind on thursday though. i think what i'll do is just get a double occupancy room once my week is up.

oh yeah. lemme tell ya'll about #4's aliases. So, Saturday after him, my cousin, and I came from his house, we're catching a taxi and he's talking on the phone. My cousin hears him tell the person "It's Ryan."

Hmm.

So he gets off the phone and cuz is like "Your name is Ryan?" and he's like "My friends call me Ryan." And then he gets kinda quiet. Now, he aint never told me about no other name so i'm like, interesting.

today he left his i.d. in my room and what i believed to be his first name AINT EVEN HIS FIRST NAME! wtf?

now, i'm not tripping too hard because when i first started talking to him he did tell me that this name was his middle name. either way... some mafuckin lying is going on .

and i don't too tough like that shit.

i feel like i'm gonna find out a lot in these 3 weeks...
Carmen Sandiego is on the bloodclaat case. Whaaaaa? Shutuppppp. :/

however... he's still beating it up. i know, i'm a Slore, sue me.

He laid me the fuck OUT on the kitchen floor of my hotel room thursday night... and lets not even talk about last night... or this afternoon.
*in my New Orleans drawl*
Baby....


all i can say is he slang dick like he was born to do it. i'm convinced there's a scientific link between canibus and dickey rides.

*wipes brow*

Well, I'mma run along and get in the shower. We're supposed to go to this bar. No doubt I'll be washing my hair tommorow...cause he sho nuff gon' mess it up tonight. LOL.

To my new followers, thank you! And I can't believe I'm at 204 followers! Ya'll make a gal's day :D

besos!

Recappin' & Recoverin' from D'Piglett (D'Swine Flu's Baby Cousin).. sex and girdles and whatnot

So I came in from the JA last Tuesday sick as a dog, ya'll. I started feeling sick after that Thursday night in Jungle , but it wasn't so bad until Monday morning. I blame #4. Afterall, he was complaining of a sore throat, kissing me all up in my mouth. And I let him.

Hee haw, hee haw - Simone is a donkey. I know.

In other events--- #4 is thisclose from being kicked out the door. Lemme tell ya'll what he done did.

So, the last evening I was there I took my sister and him out to dinner since it was her birthday. After we finished eating, my other sister came up there w/her homeboy. Let's call the homeboy Sprite.

Because he's a thirsty ass mafucka. And I do not like the Sprite in him. :(
(Details to come later)

Anywho...so everything is cool, I walk off to the side to chitchat w/my crazy ass sisters, and Sprite stays at the table w/ #4. Both of them are on their phones, so I aint paying it no mind.

Eventually the waitress comes w/ the check, and I'm short the cash and they don't take debit card. So I asked #4 if he had the money , $740 Jamaican; which is probably about $5 US. He tells me he didn't have it, and what irked the shit out of me is that I knew he did because he was paying for the taxi to take us back to the hotel and to take him home. It wasn't even that serious, cause I would've given it back to his cheap ass. So Sprite takes out $1000 and gives it to me. Needless to say I was EMBARASSED. So everyone leaves and #4's cheap ass and I stay there since it was on the beach. I would've left his black ass there too, but the craving for dick was too strong.

I know, I'm a bitch in heat. Sue me.

Anywho, we gets it poppin' on the beach. This I did not plan for. Let me tell ya'll what I had on and you will understand why:

• A fitted tshirt


• some jeans


• my vintage Valentines Day Uptowns


• and under this lowkey get up, my Flexees girdle.
  

We'll call this segment of the blog:
Monie Gets Caught Out There Again- Reasons to Add More Situps to the Workout- A Short Story

My tummy is not flat.

*lone tear roll down Monie's left cheek*

It is the hardest place for me to lose weight, probably due to Cortisol and me being a stressbandit. In the meantime as I'm on this weight loss journey to go from a size 10 to a slender size 6 I opt to wear weight control "intimate apparel".

I'm talking girdles, ya'll. And Spanx too!

I have an assortment of these intimate apparel, and I hold them dear to my heart. My favorites are the Flexees because they reach all the way up to your bra strap so there's no backfat hanging out. I love my Spanx second best. I like to call myself a master of the girdle. I even know how to pee without taking 'em off! However, I haven't mastered fucking with them on. And here lies the problem.

Now, the Flexees girdle looks something like this, without the leg part.


Sometimes I even put something like this over the girdle or my spanx:

Why?
Because I'm a sucker for looking neat in my clothes. I don't like seeing bulges and rolls here and there. It's not cute. Yup. I said it.

"Pop off!!"
(Lls-- gotta love that Tanisha)

Anywhosit...usually if spontaneous trolloping should ensue, I'm somewhere with a bathroom so I can slip in there, take off Fantasia and Alexandria (my girdles) in private; give Pocahontas a bit of a wash, and get my P-poppin on. There's nothing sexy about undressing and taking off a girdle in front of a man. Plus men are sensitive and can't really handle that. They will have all kinds of questions, and you know I'm not in for the talking when it's time to get it crackin'. So for the sake of everyone involved, I de-girdalize in private.

Now while we were on the beach I was able to finagle the sitchy-ashun by standing behind the chair we bought out to the water. I just pulled my jeans and girdle down with one firm grip. That part wasn't so bad. The hard part came in trying to make sure I didn't put it on backwards. Luckily this did not happen.

Usually I have some kind of how-to for ya'll regarding donkey situations like this, but I haven't come up with a skill set to finesse taking off a girdle in front of a man. If any of ya'll know how, please share.

The End.

So anyway.... let's fastforward to the ride to the airport.

My sister and Sprite came to take Sissy Dear and myself back to the airport, and on the way to the airport Sprite starts telling us all how while he was on his phone #4 was on his phone talking to some chick, calling her "baby" and when the girl asked where he was, he said he was at work. I
*gasface*
I'm not even really pissed off at the fact that #4 is talking to other chicks; this is something I would have to be a dumb ass not to know, but for him to do it infront of other people.
More embarassment on top of the cheap stunt he pulled.
Needless to say, I wasn't feeling this situation. I was so sick from D'Piglett after flying and all that, that when he called me I didn't have the energy to ask him about it so I told him to make sure he called me the next day so I could ask him something.

He calls me the next day and I asked him about it ever so casually, like I didnt have a care in the world. He gets quite vexed saying how the girl he was on the phone with was one of his co-workers, and everyone calls everyone babes in JA, and that he never told the girl he was at work and it sounds like my sister and Sprite just want me to be with someone else, possibly Sprite.

I didn't even push it, but he starts acting funny style to me like I did something to him.

*enter my imaginary drag queen Trannyque; she got somethin' to say about this*

No, no, no bitch, that is not the way it goes. Monie ain't in for all that!

*snap, snap, neck roll and exit Trannyque*

So yeah. for the rest of the week he was being quite short with me. One time he even came out his face and told me he didn't really have anything to say to me and that I should go to sleep or do homework because he's about to go do some "man stuff". I was so in shock that I couldn't cuss him out properly.

So I read his trifling ass via text; something along the lines of I'm not feeling his fucking attitude and that I am not the one to chase after no nigga, so if he doesn't want to be bothered, cool. He called me that night and I didn't answer. I had my sister call him back, pretending she didn't know his number and to tell him that I was out at the club, which he hates. Now he's all apologies and niceness. Whatever. He can go blow in the wind. We live too far from each other for him to be a thorn in my side. I need this nigga to understand he is vacation dick. ugh.

And I don't even know who/what to believe because Sprite been calling my phone trying to holla at me AND CALLING MY SISTER TRYING TO HOLLA AT HER as well! And I found out that nigga is married. Needless to say, I throw him to voicemail.


Homewrecker, I am not.

Homewrecker is she though...

Hehehe, I know.. I'm a bitch.

So that's what it is for now. I'm gonna be really scarce for weeks to come. Coursework is a beast!

xoxoxmonie!

Vacay Trollopfication and Bust It Baby Bags

JA trip is going good so far. Lots of rain so not as much beach time. Still have yet to do my jet skiing though :(

And sooo...

Thursday we hit this club called Jungle, Boyfriend #4 and I. We had much fun, like we usually do when we go anywhere. After the club, we went to the spot.

Ya'll know we got it in. We went back to the same mosquito factory we went to the first time we got it in because this other cutesy spot we wanted to go to had no rooms. :(

Maybe tonight if I'm lucky?
Hehehe

Anywho, we get up in there, and Boyfriend #4 does some shit I absolutely hate.

He turns on the tv.

Ughhhh!!!

One of my biggest pet peeves is when you know you're about to fuck, and a dude either starts with the incessant talking or they turn on the tv. Now Boyfriend #4 knows I hate this, so he calls himself compromising by throwing a sheet over the tv.

Um, no.

Mind you, since not too many channels worked on the bullshit satellite tv, it was set to Chinese news in English.

That shit ain't sexy!!

I really wasn't in the mood for arguing, so I went into the bathroom, undressed and came back to the bed.

We gets to laying it down, kissing and all that, and then something really stupid was uttered by Boyfriend #4 about him wanting to "breed me" and when were we going to have a baby.

Where my imaginary pet donkey at?

*Pet Donkey steps out into the light and brays*

Hee haw, hee haw, nigga, hell naw!

Me: I don't think so.

Him: Why?

Me: I can give you a million reasons. One, I need to get my career in order, my schooling finished, and a whole lot of other shit. And you need to get yourself in order too. PUT ON THAT CONDOM.

I'm glad he took heed and didn't push.

I am also glad to inform you I bought my own Magnums with me, and I am glad I did, because you know why?

*Audience chimes in:*

Why Monie??

Monie pulls out a box of Durex condoms and stomps the dogshit out of the box

Audience gasps in horror

Monie: Because Boyfriend #4 is yet another big dick nigga using Durex condoms.

*Audience boos*

Exactly. We got into a mini-bickering about it, and in the end we were both happy because my 3 Magnums were used, along with his 2 Durex (sue me, I got desperate) and Boyfriend #4 put in some work that made me wanna pull a Beyonce and buy a nigga a shorts set.

If Pochahontas could smile, I think that bitch would be grinning... even right now.

Later down in that morning all we wanted to do was stay in bed, chill, and commence to some more serious fuckin'. We didn't have anymore condoms, so he got up and got us breakfast, some weed for himself, and some condoms, and something that made me like him a little bit more.

He bought me a comb, ya'll.

*swoons*

LOL

Now granted it was a comb I aint seen since my little girl days at Grandma's house back in '91...



But I'm a sucker for thoughtful shit, even if it doesn't necessarily much.

Unfortunately, I got caught out there without my Buss It Baby bag. Let me explain the Buss It Baby Bag to ya'll.

Ladies pull up a chair, and listen keenly:

Sometimes we get caught out there, wanting to have spontaneous sexual relations and we end up at the spot, coming home after day breaks looking like a hot shitastrophic mess, all because we didn't have our Bust It Baby Bag. This used to happen to me all the time when I lived in DC after taking on Iberian Lynx, and coming home looking like I did infact escape from the Jungle. You know what I'm talkin' bout-- having to go home in day old clothes , and having to rock one of his hats that didn't match what I wore, consequently making me look real bamma-like. Took me a while to catch on, but eventually I did.

I digress... so yes... the Bust It Baby bag doesn't have to be big. You can fit the essentials in a small cosmetic purse that can be squeezed into your club bag. If you have a nice sized purse, this works out even better, because you can put together a Bust It Baby Bag Plus and fit a tshirt or wife B in there.

Bust it Baby bag should have:

travel sized toothbrush and tooth paste

1 panty

comb and ponytail holder

Always Wipes

Condoms (he love you cause you got your own)

your MAC finishing powder

plastic shower cap

1 ziplock bag to put the night before's panties inside

Bust It Baby Bag Plus should include all of the above and:

a pair of flats/flip flops (depending on the season)

spandex

t shirt/ wife b

plastic bag for your dirty clothes

and anything else you think you might need that you can squeeze in there. Now you know. If this is ever a topic on Family Fued, you got this, son!


Ps- Bust It Baby Bag Plus is also for the big gals or the gals like myself obsessed w/ having all her fat lay down flat that rock girdles. Speaking of girldles , Sometimes them hos are not a friend. I will blog about this later though.

I digress.

So...the other morning I was kicking myself for not having my Buss It Baby Essentials. I had my wipes and condoms, but no comb, no clean drawls.

I felt quite skeevy after showering and having to put back on my club clothes which were a damn mess. I wore a white top that night and my makeup transferred all on the collar. I had to put back on my 5 inch heels and spandex. Now picture me trying to get back to my hotel at 3 in the afternoon. And yes, the hotel guards mistook me for a prostitute because they couldn't see my ID band under my bracelets. I practically ran to my room for another shower, and to brush my teeth, wash my hair and get clean.

Ugh.

See, how there's always some shit that pops off when I'm tryna be a trollop? I am convinced, I am not supposed to be having sex. I wish I didn't enjoy it so much.

Alright Kiddos, bout to run off to dinner. I'll be back w/ more updates!

xoxomonie!

Dick Stress, Dick Retirement

Hey Blog Muffins!

I know; I've been scarce. Between school work, stressing, prepping for JA vacay Part II, and other little stuff....life's been busy.

My Gripe:

So when we last left off in this soap opera that is my life (aka The Young & the Reckless, lol), I was supposed to go to Planned Parenthood to get my exam and STI panel.

*sigh*

Can we just say that I do not appreciate Planned Parenthood playing with my vagina? They called me like the day before to tell me they had to reschedule me because the doc/nurse practicioner wouldn't be in that day. It kind of worked out to my benefit though, because I found a gynecologist that lives practically around the corner.

All week I stressed myself out wondering if I had this or that STI. I spent majority of my free time watching The Golden Girls, eating ice cream cups, drinking glass fulls of Very Vanilla Silk Soymilk ( trying to combat the fat with Alli Pills) and googling STI's and their symptoms.

Why?

Because I am a hypochondriac.

Between all the stress and sweets I wound up with this big ass zit on my forehead. I just can't wait for tommorow to get my exam. I'm still praying everything is okay. I haven't spoken to D/m either. I don't think I'll ever have relations with him again. He turned me ALL the way off with those cheap, triffling ass Durex condoms.

....buuuuut then again, I've sworn up, down, and sideways that I'd never smash that again...now here I am... worried about my health and my vagina. I could beat my self.

On another note...

I'm already considering hagning up my pimp jersey. Even though I've barely gotten started.

Matter fact, I'm gonna just retire from dick (after my vacay, lls)

There should be like, an AFLAC for dick retirement.

Call that joint Dflac. You should be able to receive:

• monthly/ bi-monthly checks (depending on how dick-deprived one is) to be used on toys, antidepressant co-pays, and food
• stuffed duck keychain
• some type of membership award club card for not getting dicked down.

Duck, duck, goose, bitch :D

Folks, we need to see about making this official.

I'm just gonna put Pocahontas on lock, maintain this pace I have going with my school work, party, and enjoy my summer, dick-free.

I cannot handle having two sexual relationships.

I ain't built for this shit.

It's too stressful.

I think a big part of me went through with slaying D/m because I felt like I needed insurance dick or possibly, get-back dick.
Let's define 'em:

What's insurance dick?

Insurance dick is like get back dick, only it happens ahead of time, before a dumb ass gets to hurt your feelings, break your heart, cheat on you first; you know, stuff like that.

Get back dick is when ole boy fucks up and you feel the need to be vengeful. So you ride the next dick in hopes to feel better.

It works.

Sometimes.

Anywho, I never used to invest in insurance dick, but after being hurt time and again, there have been two times I just had to take it there. I'm a Leo; we like revenge...what can I say. This is something I've been working on.

Dear God,

I'm trying. You know I am. Help me to be better. Amen.

I digress-- so yeah. When I saw that B/f #4 was getting his little email mack on, I was quite vexed. Consequently, this did play a role in me smashing D/m... so much to the point that while I was enjoying the artform that is cunnilingus, I was simultaneously reveling on the fact that I was getting mine, and b/f #4 was now on the decietful end of the stick.

Even though I put myself in fool situations sometimes, I hate being played for the fool. Quite oxymoronic, I know.

Maybe I'll continue to juggle and not have sex w/ any of them? I'll sort this out at therapy this week.

Decisions..decisions...

If only I could meet one normal, sane man that actually likes me. That would cut out 1/3 of my drama! Maybe one day I will be so lucky.

*shrug*

Anyway, I'm gonna go get some rest. Tommorow's my big day :D

xoxomonie!!!