Well, well, well, we meet again. Here I write, single as I am every so often, and ready to mingle.
It’s the Love Day and I thought it only appropriate I relaunch my little raunchy sexy dating blog and regale you all with the comedy that is my dating life.
Where have I been? I’ll discuss that in the coming weeks because I got STORIES ON STORIES ON STORIES to type out (I’ll just say this: Never date a nigga who mama was a crackhead – that shit is apparently genetic)
This year I wanna come wild and free (you catch that? hehe ;)) and go a little more crazy and in depth with my post. My ability to give a fuck is broken after two years in quarantine and I live to entertain.
But I thought I’d start today easy with a little dating life update with a story of how I got my current lil’ friend.
Yes, my lil Friend. I don’t know how else to classify him, so I had to hop back ol’ skool with it.
He ain’t my boyfriend, he’s out dating as he pleases as far as I know
He’s not my FWB because I actually give a fuck about him as more than just a casual friend
Nor is he my Sneaky Link, because who sneaking – I’m writing a whole ass article bout the ninja.
He’s just a man that went from a random stranger in my inbox offering to sit in my driveway to help protect me from a crazy motherfucker to me calling him MASTER in bed. We ain’t dating but we mating lol.
Let me set the scene on how it all began:
Essentially it was like dis
My ex boyfriend (we’ll get to that traumatic experience soon) was stalking me. I guess I put the full power of the peach muffin on him and next thing you know I’m out here with restraining orders and shit because a dude couldn’t let me go. Here he come kindly offering to sit outside and bang on my behalf if he came around again. And if you know me there are two things I like – a man that’s good with his hands and a shoota.
This motherfucker is both. Waterslidessssss.
So, we start vibin’. Now we exchanging memes and I’m telling business that ain’t his business all fucking DAY. We both Pisces and his birthday a lil after mine so at this point its a competition to out Pisces each other. He probably gon’ read this shit and swear he got me, but to be clear I macked the fuck out of him.
And he fell right into the trap.
As soon as he uttered the words “You funny asf” Ding Ding Ding! You fucked up because now I got you. I flirt by being a got damn nut. Laugh at my jokes and I’m gonna be scrambling to choke on your….
Anyways, I invite him over for dinner to feel him out. I think I made gumbo. To preface this, I go for personality over anything and I had never even bothered to look at his profile to see if he was cute or not. Yes, that’s why so many of my exes look like Quasimodo. I also know, men take pictures with a hand only slightly steadier than a person with Parkinson’s and I couldn’t trust a blurry 10 year old selfie anyway.
My, my, my was I pleasantly surprised he was tall, deep voiced and childish as fuck.
I was like yep, Imma get him.
Now to put the plan into action.
So I evaluated what I knew about him thus far. He liked football, def liked fat bitches and was a goofball. Ok, I can work with this. I only watch the Chiefs play and we were in the thick of playoffs so why not invite ol’ boy over for a drink and a sneak – erm, I mean, watch the GAME. So I bought some Tito’s and wore the Shorts.
You know, the pair of shorts every woman has with just that slight bit of booty poking out from the bottom?
Yeah, I was applying pressure.
Soon as he got to my house I was a little buzzed and feeling a confidence well above my cuteness grade. Face on 6, confidence I could get him on 10. Once I get a little vodka, this bitch become a slick talka, OKAY.
I felt the eyes zoom in on the cheek meat and found an excuse to get up every 4.5 seconds just to fuck with him. Gotta applaud him on his restraint, he did not say anything inappropriate or try and touch me. This made the game a little bit more fun. I’ve now set the scene I’m interested and let’s see what the response will be to see if I nailed it…
To be continued…