First Rounds Mine.

Why texting should be used simply for informational purposes, and not conversations. This could not be any more accurate.

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Only Girl in the World – TBT 04.19.11

You’re glowing.

It’s because he told you he’s so glad he’s out with you tonight. Otherwise, someone else would snatch you up for sure. The two of you are in the middle of a deep conversation about the playoffs when out of nowhere he interrupts himself and reminds the both of you of how pretty you are. You crack a joke about how he’s acting like a scrub on 5th and Market but believe him when he says you’re so fun to hang out with, because well, it’s true.

It’s a nice night in the city. You’re walking through the Tenderloin now and he’s holding your hand every step and catcall of the way – how romantical. You’re working the Ru-Paul outta those four-inch stilettos and even the ladies notice, “Ooh girl those are cute where’d you get ‘em?” The dudes notice something else, “Yeah, I’d keep her close too if I were you.” Regardless of who the two of you walk by though, they all agree on one thing, “Aw you two look beautiful together.” And you believe them, because well, it’s true.

It’s a little past 11 now and after walking through the ghetto you’re finally at the club and he holds your hand as he leads the way towards the bar. The bartender winks at you and you order two drinks. You see your friends and take pictures as they initiate your date and take turns giving the both of you goofy, lapdances in the VIP area. He has no idea what to do, so he grabs you the next chance he gets and kisses you. The rest of the night consists of more of that along with talking, hugging, laughing, drinking, and dancing. As he’s carrying you to the parking lot (because those four-inch stilettos ain’t no joke!) he stops to kiss you (again), and says, “Damn, I had too much fun with you tonight.” And of course you believe him, because duh, it’s true.

You’re yawning.

It’s nearly 3am and you have no recollection of the ride back home but are just glad you’re home with him. You’re sharing the same set of pajamas, cute. And in this case, forking lead to spooning. You roll over onto your back and he’s caressing your cheek. Hard to imagine how the same hands that just pulled your hair and slapped your ass can me so gentle while touching your face. He just just snuck his chin over your shoulder, and it’s like a puzzle piece. You swear the two of you fit together perfectly. So perfectly you swear his chin was made JUST for your shoulder. And nobody else’s. As if you were the only girl in the world.

But you’re not. And that’s true too.

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Werrrk.

She managed to make Frozen sound sexy as fuck. 

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Condoms Shmondoms.

Growing up, there were a few things that stuck out during every sex lecture I heard: 1) Don’t have it, 2) Don’t listen to boys 3) Don’t be a ho 4) If you’re going to be a ho – USE A CONDOM. 

Two out of four ain’t so bad right? Truth be told, I didn’t use a condom responsibly until my late twenties. Not that it’s a valid excuse, but I didn’t start having casual sex then. Prior to that, I always had a boyfriend or was in an exclusive relationship. 

Remember Thor? He was the first guy I fucked with a condom. We hadn’t discussed exclusivity yet, so I was glad he put one on. Thankfully, the sex was still amazing (yes, even the first time!) but after a month or so of dating/fucking and knowing that I only wanted to date him, it was I who suggested we go raw.

“Can we try it without the condom just once? I just want to feel it. We don’t have to continue after” I asked. God I’m such a ho. Needless to say, that was the last time we used a condom together. I have a secret to tell you, women don’t like using condoms just as much – if not even more than you guys. Let me tell you why.

1) It tastes gross. If you know me, you know I love to suck dick (shit ho’s say, I swear). And it’s not uncommon for me to go from intercourse to fellatio to intercourse to fellatio. This just isn’t something you can smoothly do whilst wearing a condom. Not only does it ruin the feng shui of it all, but it tastes disgusting. 

  • Side story: A guy I was seeing asked me to suck him off, but I complained that it would taste gross. He grabbed the glass of water sitting on his end table to which I replied, “WTF are you going to do, stick your dick in it?” Instead he poured water on his dick and got the bed wet(ter). He proceeded to wash his dick with soap and water in the sink, and I sucked his dick shortly after. I rather taste soap than rubber. Plus, he put in the effort.

2) We like it when you cum on us. *Uh-huh honey* So much, that I got a lady boner just typing that. We like feeling your warmth on our skin, and like rubbing you all over our ass or stomach or breast. Again, this is hard to do if you have to take off a condom beforehand. 

3) It just feels better. I mean, DUH. It’s a lame excuse to get the other person to agree to not using a condom, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You feel closer physically when it’s skin in/on skin, and for some, it can seem like you’re closer spiritually/emotionally too. 

So yes, having sex without a condom feels fucking amazing but I’m not condoning unprotected sex in any way, so don’t be an idiot about it. Because the only thing that feels better than going raw, is knowing you don’t have ghonorrea. 

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she said she can’t feel her face.

“You and I we’re made of glass, we’d never last
Meant to die, we moved fast and then we crashed”

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Fire.

I wasn’t always like this you know.
I used to actually love like myself.
I mean. I never thought I was perfect, but I never apologized for my imperfections either.
And there were worlds full of girls prettier than me, but the boys still gravitated to my petite hands, and I always pulled ‘em.
Because I was smart. Because I was talented. Because I was witty. Because I was chill. Because I was thoughtful. Because I liked sports and drank beer, played video games, and loved beautiful women. Because I was a funny motherfucker.
Most of all, because I believed I could.
I swear, I used to think I was awesome. Never cocky, barely even confident. But OK with myself, and OK was all it used to take.
I used to think I was a catch, and that any man would be nothing less than lucky to have me as their Queen.
And then something happened.
My crown.
It didn’t melt. That would indicate some sort of gradual regression.
But my crown. It hurt to wear before it disappeared, making sure to leave painful imprints as a reminder of the woman I used to be.
Of the woman I feel like I will never be again.
Somewhere down the line, I punished myself for being me.
I no longer thought I was awesome. Or a catch.
Instead, I convinced myself that I was worthless, and not good enough.
Someone told me I didn’t have a spark, and I believed it.
I believe it.
The girl whose verbal tongue lashings could make your mind squirm.
The girl who will drive a stick like she drives you crazy.
The girl who jumps in the ocean without knowing how to swim, and peers over cliffs with broken wings.
He said I didn’t have a spark.
He’s right.
I GOT THAT FIRE.
I need to remind myself that some people prefer the cold, and that’s OK.
They couldn’t handle the heat anyway.

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Ain’t No Fun – FBF 1/24/12

The first time I heard about Molly, she went on an all girls trip with the Wolf Pack in Vegas about two years ago. I didn’t quite understand where she came from, or who she was exactly. I just knew she was a good time. More recently she made an appearance at Wonderful at The Mezzanine, but I spent most of the night hanging out with my girl Mary-Jane nd missed her. My friends on the other hand partied with her ALL NIGHT.

Since then, I kept hearing more and more about her and couldn’t help but feel curious. Why haven’t we met yet? We rolled in the same crowds, and truth be told she got around. But I’ve been feeling emo, and anti-social so the last thing I wanted to do was make a new friend. Alas New Years Eve came along and she was all everyone could talk about. I was starting to feel jealous.

I remember it quite vividly actually. It was 11:00 o’clock PM December 31st. I was with Scrubs and Crystal said we had until 11:30 to figure out if we wanted to meet her or not. 11:24 came, and Crystal wouldn’t take no for an answer. We met by the bar. Molly’s introduction was brief, but her presence was felt throughout the night and into the wee hours of the morning.

As me and my girls made our way through the crowded dance floor in time for the countdown, I could tell Molly had been there as well. Everywhere you looked people were smiling harder, laughing bigger, and dancing with their eyes closed as if they were in a room by themselves. That bitch was good. She was everyone’s date that night. What a ho.

Still, we saw each other twice more after that. The last time at Immortal. Her, me, and Crystal had a threesome. And let me tell you, it was the best date EVER. I thought I saw a man’s aura on stage. It was blue by the way. We had an amazing time, but once again, just like before – Molly was gone before sunrise. That’s when I realized I couldn’t take the bitch seriously. She was only there for me during the good times and you know what they say, “If you can’t handle me at my worst. Then you don’t deserve me at my best.”

See, Molly is the perfect booty call. She cartwheels into your life, then tippy-toes into the morning light without so much as a bobby-pin, or earring, or trace of perfume left behind. She doesn’t care who else you see, she’s not needy, never wants to talk, and doesn’t care if you don’t ever want to date her. So you don’t wife a chick like her. Which is completely fine by me, ‘cuz I ain’t lesbian anyway.

Editors note: I am in no way condoning or encouraging any of anything lol.

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