Dear ____,

I understand you enjoy the throws of sex. I mean, who doesn’t? However, I’ve known you since we were in the 7th grade. I’ve witnessed you make the same mistake time and time again.. for the last 13 years. THIRTEEN YEARS.

If you could maybe, I don’t know, change your mannerisms just a smidgen you might find some new results. I mean, if you wanna do the deed with eryone you happen to think is gorgeous, that’s totally acceptable. It’s your life, not mine. But complaining about it? Saying that negros think pussy is free? That you’re 26 now and want a relationship? That your fuck buddy is happy with the way things are ’cause he doesn’t want anything to change? Because you gave up the poontang already?

Well, grab a damn clue. If you’re givin’ it up like it’s candy on Halloween, then people are going to assume it IS free. Oh, and shut the fuck up.

K? Thanx.

I mean, they do say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Just sayin’.

In kind regard,
Deutlich

I just finished watching the last episode of The Wire.

My jaw?

Is permanently stuck on the floor.

Because, woah.

Anybody else watch that show?

Ever have one of those days where everything irritates the piss out of you? So much so, that the wind could blow the wrong way, causing you to want to sucker punch the nearest person in the left eyeball with a fist covered in several over-sized rings?

No?

Maybe it’s just me.

Apparently I am a magnet for odd conversation. Then again, “odd” is really just a matter of perception. You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to.

Anyhow, I like talking about sex. It’s a topic that everyone’s got an opinion on and I love it’s ability to make some folks uncomfortable. I especially enjoy the fit of giggles I get because in all reality? I’m immature and find the stupidest things hilarious.

I was at a friend’s house-warming party last night where the liquor was plentiful and the food equally so. I, of course, enjoyed my fair share of quality tequila… because that’s how I roll. At one point, Candy and I were discussing the pitfalls that go along with squeezing a human being the size of a watermelon out of our much smaller vah-jay-jays. You know, there’s cutting involved and a slew of other ridiculously painful things which had me feeling empathy pains. As usual, when any part of my body is protesting in agony, I talk to it. For example, if my uterus has decided to make me whimper, I will look in its general direction and say, “honey, I love you. But if you don’t stop causing my insides to flare up I’m going to personally remove you with a kitchen knife. Please cease and desist all cramping. Forever. Kthanx.”

Last night’s conversation with my kooter was a little different since the issue was not the same. Candy mentioned the cutting and I, in turn, apologized to my vag for having to hear such insensitive things. I also promised I’d hold off as long as I could before making her go through any of that.

It was at this time that S stepped into the conversation with the most curious of looks. “Are you…talking to your vagina?”

“Why, yes. Yes I am. Poor thing has to endure some trauma down the line.”

“Oh. Can I talk to it too?”

“Sure! What the hell.”

The look on his face? Priceless. He was like a kid in a candy store.

Cut to a few minutes later when the conversation changed and S is all, “I just want to talk to your vagina again.” That time I laughed it off. Because it was really all sorts of funny. Or maybe you just had to be there?

A little while after and several more drinks in, we somehow came upon the discussion of shaving the genital area. Some dude had announced, loudly, that he’s gotta make sure his jingleberries were presentable. If he wants a girl to go downtown, she shouldn’t have to choke on his pubes.

He made quite a valid point and I certainly agree. I shave everything too, including the asshole. And of course, I had to share this wealth of information.

It’s at this point that S’ eyes got huge as saucers and I had a feeling I knew where his train of thought was leading to.

“NO! Nothing goes up my ass, I just think it should be presentable. If I’m getting it from behind, no one should have to endure unsightly hairs. It’s just not an attractive feature.”

Apparently I’d popped his little balloon of hope because his face fell. Hard.

“But.. you.. but.. not even.. you know.. anything?”

“No, nothing. My poop shoot gets no love. Dammit.”

“But..but.. not even tongue?!”

“No! Ew! No!”

“But… but.. it’s amazing! Like marshmallows! It’s like marshmallows and cotton!”

Thanks. Now I’m not sure I can look at marshmallows the same again. And I doubt I will understand the correlation. Ever.

A couple days before Valentine’s Day marked my 5th year anniversary of singledom.

That’s right, kiddies, I’ve been without a “significant other” since 2003.

Some of you, I’m sure, are scratching your heads in bewilderment while others don’t give two shits. By the way, hi! I like you folks. It’s the ones that are staring in befuddlement that kinda grate my nerves. Don’t get me wrong, we’re all allowed our opinions, but I don’t take too kindly to being typecast over my relationship status, or lack thereof.

See, I’ve never really been the dating kind, just like I was never the party kid. While everyone else was in relationships throughout high school & college, I sort’ve sat on the sidelines and watched the craziness unfold. Y’see, from the outside looking in all I really found was cheaters, liars, immaturity, fighting and trash talking. None of the aforementioned things sit well with me. Not at all. I bruise pretty easily, whether I’d like to admit to it or not. It also doesn’t help that I was hung up and madly in love with someone who didn’t deserve it. For a fuckin’ decade. By the way, him cheating on most of his girlfriends with me? That only cemented my point.

What it boils down to is simple: independence. I firmly believe in the give & take that comes along with being in a relationship. However, I’m even more firmly rooted in thinking that women should not be so utterly dependent on their men (or women) or their relationship status. I’m not looking for “my other half” I’m looking for a strong-willed and good-natured equal partner. Period. Finding that? Is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

I feel I should note that I am by no means an ugly duckling. On top of that, I have a lot to offer in a relationship – my last ex will attest to that. Oh, and I think it’s idiotic to assume only “pretty people” get dates because that’s total bullshit. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and eventually we all get wrinkly. I just think some folks may have come to a certain conclusion about my appearance and I felt the need to squash that notion.

Anyway, I watched my parents go through a tumultuous marriage for most of my life which finally ended in divorce last year. I’ve seen women allow themselves to be mistreated and it pisses me the fuck off. I’ve even read blogs where they’ve admitted to the douche-baggery they are exposed to and I just can’t see why they bother staying with them. Sometimes, I just want to shake them and yell, “DON’T LET ANY FOOL MISTREAT YOU! EVER!”

And then I wonder, is being single really that scary?

I don’t think it is. Yeah, there are times where I really wish I had someone to snuggle with whenever I want. Regular sex would be pretty fucking nice, but I don’t need to be in a relationship to bump uglies. And despite being a total prude due to my EXTREME fear of catching a STI, I’ve fucked plenty of folks over the years. And sure, I miss some of the better times I had with my ex. I just wish they’d happened with a more qualified suitor.

Really, I’m just looking for a person who is smart and witty and charming and kind and thoughtful and intelligent and funny and vulgar and appreciative and kind-hearted and everything in between. I refuse to settle. Re-fucking-fuse.

I have really high standards. They’re not unattainable, they’re just up there. I’m okay with this. I’m okay with waiting for what I really want because I have patience. I don’t feel the need to jump from one relationship to the other because there’s just too much stress involved in all that. I like to sit back and really get to learn what a person is like, assess how they treat other people, figure out how they are with their mother (because THAT is key) and go from there.

I’ll find someone eventually. I have no doubt in that.