Drew, part deux

Before you begin reading,nothing has happened b/w me and Drew and nothing will happen so if your not interested anymore its best to quit reading now. I refuse to besmirch the classic idea that is Carrie Bradshaw's sex column from Sex and the city, and renounce its legacy by turning it into some cheesy "single and desperate" sex blog.

Usually when I say nothing is going to happen between myself and a certain person I'm usually lying, so I'm really scaring myself. But I'm really going to stick to my guns because I would lose a lot of respect for myself if I slept with that boy. That would be seriously awkward.

I was watching Real Sex late last night and they were interviewing a porn star. One of the questions that they asked her was if she was easy. She said slutty, not easy. The difference is you have to work a little to get her into bed but she won't sleep with just anyone. God help me, I was thinking the same thing that she just said out loud. I need to just go ahead and admit that to myself and stop acting like something isn't wrong with me...taking a breath....

I'm Slutty

exhale

Lust is a very horrible yet complex thing, and it is probably the only thing that I do that gets me in trouble. Its probably the only thing that I have the balls to act on to satisfy my own morbid curiosity. Moving along. I will now field some questions from the floor.

Is Drew fine?
No, not all.

Is he at least attractive?
Sure, I guess. Definitely not ugly. I never really thought about it before.

Does he have a nice body?
nope.
In his defense, he's working on that.

Is he sexy?
nope.

Well...what exactly do you see him?
Hmm...that's a good question. Lust is blind.

I guess the factor that ropes me in is he has the ability to keep that part of his life so damn private. Men usually can't shut up about their sex lives if their getting some, and if they're not bringing it up they find some way to work it back into the conversation. I didn't even know Drew had sex until a week ago, and he does, quite a bit. That's hot.

Drew

I stumbled upon a little (by little I mean big) revelation in my further understanding of men this past weekend. I believe that this a key factor in my succession of dysfunctional relationships. I'm glad that I am exposed to this now; so that I may stop before things get out of control for a change.

STORY ALERT
STORY ALERT

So I've been friends with this guy for about 3 years. Let's call him...hmm...Drew. Drew and I seriously have been nothing more than friends, nothing even remotely close to anything affectionate has crossed my mind, ever. Just want to make that clear. Its just that type of person he is, he's not the type to make you feel like he's imagining you naked when you're around him. I have never lusted for Drew, he's always been the most perfect gentleman, very intelligent, in law school, never hesitates to give you anything you ask for. 3 years. Nothing.

There was a BBQ at my friend's house this past weekend. We were chilling and eating some chicken,turkey burgers, and having a couple of beers. So one of our other friends stops by and accompanying her is about a liter of vodka. We get this bright idea to play drinking games. Half a liter of vodka later, we are all talking about sex in very graphic detail. Basically up to this point, Drew had probably been the most asexual person I had ever met. He was going on about the things he had done to his ex-girlfriend and the girl he was currently screwing and we were all in slack-jawed shock. I'm still in shock.

He never said anything nasty to me persay, but he seems different now, weird. Did this in some sick, depraved way turn me on? If it did, it is because it has been a very long well executed effort to conceal his freaky side. He says after he sobered up; that the only reason I was in such shock is because I have never heard him talk like that. Umm, duh.... He also said that no matter whatever dude you are, its amazing how girls change their behavior towards you when they find out you're a freak.

Shit, he's right

Needless to say its been weird, at least for me. He looks at me with this look that says, "I know what you're thinking about what I said and I know you want to find out if its true." Dammit!!! he's right. The statements that he made were made with such a cavalier attitude, so calm, with such ease. I believe that's what shocked the hell out of me more than anything, he wasn't lying. Three years, I've known this boy and he might as well be gay to me. He makes one damn remark about eating pussy and I'm looking at him sideways out the corner of my eye.

I AM A DEPRAVED, SICK, DISTURBED, DEGENERATE INDIVIDUAL AND I NEED SERIOUS PHYCHOLOGICAL OBSERVATION.

I believe that the moral of the story is some men have us figured out more that what we are led to believe. There are perfectly polite, upstanding young men who do exist who you probably know and are friends with; you just don't care about them until you find out they're a freak. And, no I am not going to act on my curiosity because I still actually want to keep the actual few male friends that I have.

So if you will excuse me, Drew is walking by and I need to hurry up and hike my skirt.

Yet another self-realization post...

This bitch was 19 when she had this body. How come nobody drove my fat ass to the gym when I was 19.


I remember when I was in junior high/high school. I was never the one to care about wearing makeup, getting my hair done was a necessity more than a privledge, and the clothing items that I desired were a brand new pair of tennis shoes or a nike jogging suit from the boys' department at some store. I have always been kind of a tomboy, but I have never been a girly-girl at all. I never even carried a purse until my 20's.

My first year of college I was in for the shock of my life. Freshman girls were walking around in full faces of makeup, heels, hair done, with their cute purses, and (gulp) dressy clothes. Here I am unpacking my thousandth nike sweatshirt with matching tennis shoes, and I'm sitting here thinking I was the shit. My how times have changed; but not in the way that you think.

I still am not a big fan of dressing up, but I own more girly clothes now so that people won't think I'm a lesbian. I'm not a big shoe person, I usually rotate between three pairs of flip flops, and on the weekends, nikes. I have spent hundreds of dollars on expensive shoes that I didn't even know I still own. After many painful nights going to the club in heels, I have discovered that I hate them because I have flat long feet and heels are not exactly fun time at the park for me. I do spend a lot of money of purses though, unfortunately.

What sparks this yet another self-realization post is that I was in to the restaurant and they're were a group of young white girls. It was about 8 of them, and the only reason that you could tell them apart is their different hair lengths and heights, and I swear to god these bitches are getting smaller. All of these hoes had platinum blonde hair, cute little flirty feminine outfits, and they all look to be size 0's. I believe that a lot of young white women are natrually lower in mass anyway due to lack of ass tissue, but these bitches had eating disorders. All of them. They all had muscular legs, which usually means they run to stay skinny.

What has drastically changed about our society within the last 9-10 years that young people are encouraged to take of themselves. I wasn't. More importantly, why the hell did my parents let me go out the house looking like that? I didn't know I like shit. Nobody really even told me how bad I which means they were probably used to it. I guess I was too busy experimenting with my own fashion disasters thinking that I was being stylish or original, as opposed to trifling which is the reality of how I actually looked.

So I would like to take this opportunity to thank my mother and father for letting me go out the house looking questionable at best, because if they hadn't I would not have experienced the trials and tribualtions such as the reality that I will always have trouble finding a pair of pants that fit my waist, dresses that don't make me look like I weigh 200 pounds at the bottom, as well as the harsh reality that when you wear a size 10 shoe, finding a cute pair on sale is pretty much a lost cause.

Wackers

So I went to the club this past weekend and I wonder is there is something seriously wrong if you are there taking notes instead of dancing. I swear, I was so entertained by the amount of activity that was going on around me that I wasn't even concerned that much about dancing or drinking. I was too busy taking mental notes.

I don't know how true this is in the north, but in the south there are large subspecies of humans that I call wackers. Wackers is an anagram for "wack ass crackers". A good example, is Kevin Federline, Britney Spears current husband. He is a wacker.


Imagine a white boy with a really thick country accent, who speaks like a ghetto black male, that puts a shitload of gel in their straight hair to make it look like have waves, they have five or six earrings in on ear, and they wear baggy clothes. There are a lot of them where I live, and they all gather in the club, their natrual habitat. They are usually referred to as wiggers(does anybody say that anymore), white boys trying to act black, or ghetto ass country redneck looking motherfuckers. I usually use the ladder, but sometimes its a mouthful.

Here are some more species that I took note of my night out.
1. Supposers
The semi-opposite of wackers. Also, the black equivalent of the white term "poser." They are black males who wear urban clothing and speak urban language, but are usually accompanied by a group of wackers and chase after white girls with no booty.

2. Trippers
White girls with absolutely no ass, that get on the floor and try to pop it like a stripper. Correction, a black stripper. At one point, I saw one get on top of the bar and start doing the splits while she tried to pop her ass. The wackers were trying to put dollars her jeans. I call them trippers because if they really think they can pop it like those girls at Strokers in Atlanta, they are trippin'.

3. The Thirsties
Lord knows I understand why some people are desperate, men and women. Its hard out there. But for the life of me, I don't understand that there are some people who are destined to meet their future wife or husband at the club. On several occasions, my friend and I were stalked by some desperate ass male who beleived that if he followed us around all night that she or I would give them our phone number. The night actually ended for me with a cussout when two asshole foreign men who were pulling me by my arm out the women's restroom. If a start a conversation with you with the words, "Look, I am trying to be nice.." Just walk away, you will be unscathed.

Honorable mentions include, men who bring their girlfriends to the club (don't get it), short men (I am only 5"7 and I had on flip-flops, if you're shorter than that then don't talk to me), ghetto men who come to the club actively seek the first black girl that they see, and unattractive slash dumb men (if I can't get with you by superficiality alone, you better have a little something extra that keeps me interested.)

Laguna Beach

Its must be a sad, depressing time in my life that I am posting about Laguna Beach, but I am so bring on the zoloft.

For those of you who have a life, I'll give a brief synopsis as to what Laguna Beach is. Laguna Beach is a reality show on MTV about rich white high school kids who live in a picturesque town in Orange County. Its carries the tagline, the real Orange County. The show started as a love triangle between Stephen, Lauren-his best friend who wants him, and Kristen-the bitchy girl he's obsessed with. That was last season, this season the same storyline carries over but they have new characters. The new big story is Jessica, who is Kristen's best friend is dating Jason, the "bad boy" who could or could not be cheating on her with Alex. Alex and Jessica hate each other, and Jessica's friends keep telling her how stupid she is for being with Jason in the first place.

I hate myself a just a little more everytime I admit I watch this show.
My IQ points drop when I recite the plotlines.
I realize that I need to be committed when I admit I'm borderline obsessed.

These kids are in high school. Seniors in high school at that. That means they're 17-18. At this age, they have probably lived a life that far surpasses mine. This show also realize how much I hated high school. I mean I hated high school. If someone asked me what general time of in my life do I never talk about, I believe I would have to say high school. Its all black. Why do you ask? No one really liked me in high school. I'm suprisingly not bitter about that, its just the truth. With the exception of my best friend, moderntemptress over there, and one other girl you be hard pressed to find anyone in my graduating class who knows my name.

Before you ask, I wasn't a weirdo, at least I don't think I was; nor was I a bitch. Just quiet most of the time, and my parents were strict so I wasn't allowed to go out or date. That didn't help matters at all. In retrospect, maybe I was a little socially awkward...that and the girls at my all girls catholic school were bitches. I digress...

Like I was saying before, the main character Kristen, is a superbitch. I mean she was bitchy last season, but now she's unbearable. She's such a bitch that she only has ugly friends. You know those are the only type who can stand being around people like that. The last episode I saw, she took one of her especially unattractive friends to Dave and Buster's on the condition that she gets one guys' number. That was one of the saddest things I've ever seen on tv. You can tell that people in her that town look at her as Kristen's ugly friend. Her other friend, Jessica, the one who's dating the man whore, Jason, is not really ugly, but you can tell that when her and Kristen go out, all the cute men come up to Kristen instead of her. Been there.

STORY ALERT
STORY ALERT

The only place I really went out to in high school was the mall, and I went out with my friend Tamika. Tamika was one of those girls who always had a boyfriend. That bitch always had a boyfriend. But honestly, (Tamika, I love you girl) much like Kristen, she wasn't that cute, all the dudes just wanted her because she had really long hair and light eyes. Me at that time, with my super thick plastic glasses, unstylish and ugly boy clothes, didn't really fit me (can we say karl Kani?), my obivious overwhelming self-consciousness, no makeup skills as well as complete inability to flirt; its a wonder why they weren't lined up around the corner.

Well, how have things changed you ask?
1. I believe if I was in high school now I probably be fighting a lot.

2. Some advice for you low self-esteem girls, pulling a man has absolutely, repeat absolutely have nothing to do with looks. Once I figured that out, sex was a lot easier to get. Hell, I flipped off a "propositing gentleman caller" at the gas station this morning and I didn't even turn my head to look at him.

3. The best way to react to a bitch, is not to. Bitches are bitches because they thrive on getting a reaction out of you, and nothing pisses them off more when you're either not (a)listening to them or (b) so self-involved your damn self that you physically cannot pay attention to anyone else.

4. I get what my parents said about dating and going out being overrated its only truly fun when you're not supposed to be doing it.

and yes,

5. Me and Tamika went out again, about 2 years ago. I believe I got 4 numbers in a three hour time span as well, as one while sitting right next to her, hmm...how things change.