“Blog it all bytch. Be my voice.”
I was dying laughing and Sasha was fuming mad about her newest flavor. She was on the other end of the phone chronicling the tale as if it were happening all over again. With the same emotion, surprise and what I would gather to be regret mixed in with it all but still too early to tell.
I was sitting in my bed in front of a laptop staring at one sentence. The one sentence that should have been at least four paragraphs sitting in my agent’s inbox ready to read. Nada was coming out of my noodle no matter how hard I tried. I was blocked like a cheese lover and had deadlines sitting on my shoulder laughing at me like every word is a game.
“Awe man,” I said. That was really all I could say with the exception of a few outbursts of “What the phuk?” after young ears had left the room. We were discussing her lady let down. So the story goes…she met a guy, she liked him. He likes her; they’re all caught up in the new. It’s been a month or so, she stays over at the crib. They fool around, she pulls it out…and his male parts come in infant size. He did not experience Sasha heaven that night.
WHAT?! Right. Lol. The fact that he had a small peep wasn’t too much the issue. In fact, one of my other home girls decided to give up the peep standard when she started kickin with her friend. He didn’t have the best skill or tools but he was fine and treated her right! I’m sorry; I’m just not there on that yet. I need all or none.
So we’re discussing the matter because, ok, this is not the end all be all. We may be able to work something out but the guy just goes and messes everything up by acting like a pure dank and showing his hiney like he’s on his period in the days following. Like…he knew he had been found out and he was a cranky camper because of it. What? How in the heyaaaal are you going to be lacking in that area, know it and still not try to make up for it and on top of that be a bitching mad jerk about it? That doesn’t make sense and the two of us couldn’t figure it out.
Sasha wasn’t trying to hear any of my analytical commentary on the matter anyway. Her last take on it all was, “Shiiiit. His head game better be right.”
-black girl.
