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Posts Tagged ‘first dates’

"The Divas" Mixed Media on paper. Copyright 2011 Totsymae

Publicly reveal that she can’t control her bladder after having six children. The mother of the Kardashians did it. Now, all I can think of is that she’s bigger than most women down there and I kinda wonder how’s the sex been in the bedroom for her and Bruce, which makes me a little embarrassed for him (and by the way, doesn’t he look really plastic?)

Publicly scratch herself below the waistline. Yeah, I know men folk do it but it’s more acceptable for them to not give a shit. If a woman does it, she immediately becomes the poster child for being a stank-nasty bitch, starting to border something like a slut and looks as if she’s got a nest of crabs in her underwear but it’s totally okay if a guy is approaching her and she doesn’t wanna be bothered with him. Such defense mechanisms can be useful to ward off bootleg men.

Wear thongs if she’s overweight AND bends over in public for all the world to see. I’m not discriminating on larger sized women but honestly, if a woman absolutely feels as if she needs something like a rope or string to cut her ass in half, it looks much better on a smaller woman. I’m average in size myself and wouldn’t risk my reputation in this manner. Remember, should you option to do this regardless of my good and  practical advice, bad news travels fast. If I happen to be the one, unfortunately, privy to seeing the crack of your ass and I’m feeling a little wicked, I wouldn’t give a second thought to painting you up and exposing you here on this blog.

Pass gas in front of her date or even look as if she’s got an upset stomach within six months of getting to know him. I totally understand that farting and shitting is a natural bodily function but women, in most cases, date for a committed relationship. She simply won’t land this new fella if she starts giving in to Mother Nature. That’s why it’s not a good idea to spend overnight weekends with a guy early on in the relationship. I promise, should you decide you want to go on this romantic get-away of camping in the woods, you will have to shit out the food you’ve been eating at some point. You don’t want to put yourself in the position of being absent too long in the “ladies’ room” or have your eyeballs look as if they’re damn near popping outta their sockets from holding back all of what you’ve digested. Trust me, if after that trip you no longer are hearing from this guy you’ve broken yourself off to, it wasn’t ’cause you weren’t fantastic in bed. Absolutely, you were! Men folk are shallow when it comes to this kinda thing. He simply couldn’t get over that as beautiful as you are, something so foul would come from your body. I know you didn’t think it smelled that awful but believe me, it did!

Act like you’re suddenly watching your weight and not eat all of your food when you’re at a restaurant, knowing you’re tilting the scales already. Acting fake ain’t gonna cut it. The evidence is too visible to start making like you and Jenny Craig are best friends and all. Plus, inflation is dipping into everybody’s pockets. You don’t want to look ungrateful AND  fake. He may think you don’t know the value of a dollar.

Eat chicken, especially barbeque, on the first couple of dates. It ain’t gonna matter how cute you try to look, it just won’t go over well. You’ll fight the urge to go to licking your fingers and Lord help your poor soul should you slip up and stick one in your mouth like you’ve forgotten you’re on a date and start acting like you’re in the comfort of your own kitchen. Now, we both know you were raised better than that but that fella you’re dating ain’t got a clue. Should you make this fatal error, you’ll need to quickly get that hump outta your back and remove the chicken bone outta your mouth. Once he drops you off at the doorstep of your home, you’ll need to walk swiftly into the darkness of your closet, repent and pray to God that you even get the invite for a camping trip.

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Illustration and cover design by Totsymae. Copyright 2011

That saying of everything coming up roses rang true  for Desperita. She thought about Bootleg Man without trying. Like, when she woke up, he was there. When she was in faculty meetings, he was there. When she cooked dinner, he was there. Even when she sat on the toilet to shit her dinner out, he was there. By the end of the week, she was prettying herself up with designer whatnots she’d bought from some high end store to let him know she was all that and then some.

“Why don’t you talk to this man and get to know him better before going out? There’s no hurry, Dee,” her mother told her over the phone. She was so damn tired of singing this tune to her daughter, it didn’t even come out with a sense of urgency the way it used to. She fucked up real good on raising this one when it came to men folk.

“Wait for how long, Mom? Do you realize I’ll be forty before the year is out?” Desperita checked out how fine she looked in her bedroom’s full-length mirror that showed every curve she had in that fire red dress she had no panties underneath. “My clock is ticking. Can you hear it?”

“I hear something all right but it sounds more like the ticking of a suicide bomb to me.”

Desperita rushed that old heifer off the phone after that. She wasn’t in the mood to hear shit more she had to say. By the time she finished lining her lips with color and puckering up and shit, Bootleg Man sent her a text, letting her know he was in the driveway and he would be at the door faster than she could say Big Daddy. Ooh, that sent chills all over her horny ass and she was too giddy she’d decided to go pantyless. She felt a bit of heat rising between her thighs at the ringing of her doorbell singing Hot in Here.

“Hey, you.” Bootleg Man grabbed her real gently and shit. He was already standing at attention below his beltline and wanted so bad to tell her to meet him at the car but he wanted to get a quick peek inside the crib he was gonna be moving into. And he wasn’t disappointed one bit either.

His baby, which he called her now ’cause he couldn’t remember how to say her name half the time, had a nice ass crib. He could see himself laid up in there and her swinging that big ass around in the kitchen, cooking for him and shit. Damn, if he hadn’t run up on a pot of gold in meeting what’s her face. He just hugged her and she was loving the feel of a man’s arms all over her. She sunk into him and pushed her front all up on the man like a damn retired whore who’d been scraping by and now had somebody hard to grab on to.

Naturally, he got to grinding against her but uh uh. He stopped himself ’cause this shit could happen right there in the foyer and they hadn’t even closed the front door. Plus, he had a rental car he needed to get back before midnight. He’d be pressed to do dinner and fuck her. His boy wasn’t able to hook him up with a free ride and since he was paying out all this damn money on a bitch that had some, he wanted to get the car back before 12:01 to avoid the fees. See, he’d gone to some jacked up rental lot ’cause his credit reflected he wasn’t trustworthy of shit.

But damn, if his boy had been able to hook him up, he was willing to bet if he’d licked her in all the right spots, he could load up a U-Haul to be moving in by the end of next week.

“Come on, Babe,” he told her. “I got us set up at Emeril’s in Buckhead. Nothing but the best for my baby,” he said, guiding her to the door with one of her pones in the palm of his hand. He took one last glance at all the expensive shit in Deperita’s house and got nervous that $100 might not be enough spending money on the prepaid AMEX card he’d bought from Wal Mart. Backstory on that was, he owed a few banks overdraft fees and banked at the Wherever Corner Check Cashing, that was usually anchored in some raggedy ass parking lot. The Wherever part coming from it being a mobile service that parked itself where the hell ever it could to charge twenty cents to every dollar from folk who, on looks, didn’t appear to have any ties to knowing much of shit about balancing a dollar.

“You’re spoiling me already,” she giggled, as his hand spread like a fan from one no-panty butt cheek to the other.

“Eating at Emeril’s not spoiling you, girl,” he pulled her around to face him, removing all intentions of eating from a plate in a restaurant to enjoying the main dish wrapped in his arms.

“You have something else in mind, I see,” said her too easy ass, and going into another of her giggling frenzies.

“Umm hmm.”

He got to licking his tongue at her like a damn snake, as he kicked the door closed, thinking he’d at least be able to save on gas by not going across town and could still get the car back in time to catch the late bus back to his place. Now that he thought about it, she wouldn’t see what kinda car he was driving either. This would fix the dilemma of explaining why he was always driving different cars, like he was rolling in dough, which he was so far away from having. He just had to make sure he left her house when she was on the heavy side of sleep after he tore that ass up with all the good loving he was about to whip on her.

Copyright 2011 Totsymae

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