Growing up, I’ve read numerous articles about men having a higher libido than women. When you listen to rap music, watch certain movies and think about all the men that have cheated on good women just to fuck a “bad one,” it seems to ring true. But as I sit here post self induced orgasm, I’m beginning to feel like I’ve been lied to all my life.

I definitely want/need/enjoy sex more than the men I’ve been seeing.

One of the biggest problems  I’ve been having in regards to casual sex is consistency. What’s the use of having a booty call when they aren’t readily available to fuck? Isn’t that the point? Am I doing it wrong? Why is it so hard for me to find someone to fuck at least three times a week? Shit, I’ll even take two times a week!

Another problem I’ve ran into is frequency. I’m all for marathon sex, but it’s hard for me to show interest once I cum. By then, I just want to go to drink some coconut water and go to sleep. Personally, I prefer sessions throughout the night. I may not want to keep having sex right now, but I guarantee in about 10 minutes, and when I wake up in the middle of the night … and in the morning, I will! I want to be able to roll over, rub the guys dick and him just KNOW – without me feeling like I’m being an inconvenience.

Lastly, I’m pretty sure I masturbate as much if not more than some men I know. I masturbate at least once a day. If not, I tend to make up for it by masturbating three times in one day. Matter fact, I am probably the most horny I’ve been in life right now. Sex comprises 60% of my daily thoughts. What gives?!

Compared to others out there, I’m still probably on the “conservative” side when it comes to sex (stop giving me the “Yeah right bitch” face). However, compared to the men I’ve banged lately, I either suck in the sack or really do have a higher libido than them. Combined. In no way am I a sex addict, but I definitely need some sort of help. Preferably in the shape of a penis.


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Beat LA.

Second game of the season, with plenty more to come. Just a few pics from last week’s offsite. I basically drank from 12pm to 12am, and woke up with no hangover! My mom would be so proud. Beer, baseball, sheboygan’s and co-workers I can also call friends. We may not have beat L.A. that day (we still took the series sonnnn), but we were definitely still winning.

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I See It Now.

I see you. The vulnerable side you easily mask. The side you’d prefer your boys not see. The facet of you that hasn’t shined in forever. I see the softness through the roughness of your skin. And feel the longing through your curt good-byes.

I see that you’re hurt. And don’t want to go there again. Or even take a step in that direction. I see you doing fine all by yourself, without a care in the world. No one to check in with, or get permission from. I see that you don’t need me in your life.

I see your flaws. The things you do that would’ve annoyed me a few years ago. The things you don’t do that would’ve bothered me a few years ago. I see your imperfections, and accept the things others would try to change.

I see your beauty. I see your beast. I see all the things that make you amazing, and all the things that rip you apart. And I want them all.

I see compromise and trust. Mistakes, and growth. Loyalty, and love. Lust, and laughter. I see happiness. Effortlessness. I see it all.

I just wish you could see it too.

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It’s Complex.

I remember having a conversation with a good friend of mine a few years ago. She was falling in love with a man who was not her “usual” type. Naturally, she ended up marrying him. At the time we poked fun at the way he dressed and I told her that my deal breaker would be a man that wore Toms. Still, I said “He treats you good. You can change the way a person dresses, but not their personality“. Then, she explained that when you care about someone that much, you won’t even care about trivial things like the way they dress. You won’t even want to care. I didn’t want to believe her, but I knew there was truth to it. I’m still burning them Toms though.

Fast forward to the other day when my homie sent me this Complex list of “Unstylish Clothing Items Every Guy Needs To Burn Right Now”. I cringed as I went through the list, taking screen shots and mass texting them all while face palming to each item. I realized that the man I was in like with WAS the list.

I then realized that I didn’t care. 

The same girl that once said, “What am I supposed to do? I can’t NOT have swag” didn’t give a flying fuck. The rumors were true. When you’re genuinely into someone beyond physicalities, everything else seems petty. Ya’ll don’t understand. I am the queen of petty. But when you appreciate or at least accept someone for who they are, you don’t care about the shoes they wear. How ill fitting their pants are, or outdated their shirt is. Nothing on the outside seems important.

As for the mess on the inside? That, unfortunately is way more complex.


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it’s not a bad thing.

Matter fact, it may be the BEST thing you could do.

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“‘cuz when i be out with other chicks, i be thinking about you/and when you be out on dates you be texting me too …”

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Rap On Broadway.

You dirty, bitch ass bitch lmao. I can’t. I love Jimmy Fallon three much. Anne Hatheway ain’t too bad either. Click here to see Ariana Grande’s skit.

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