Bitches Be Crazy.
AKA be careful what you wish for.
Let me preface what's about to happen by saying (something I've said before), just because I know you, have spoken to you, have looked at you, have heard about you- doesn't mean I am going to blog about you.
So this dude I don't know, but by the grace of Facebook have spoken to a handful of times...he may have been trying to charm me as well, in any case he texts me out of the blue and says he's 'chillin' on me because he doesn't want to become fodder for my blog'.
This presumptuous fuckshit assumed I would write about him?
First, I have to give a fuck. Second, boo boo, I don't KNOW you. Thirdly, you have been more annoying than blog worthy.
It's been a clusterfuck of nothingness, superficial technological bullshit and high school antics like when he asked if I was thinking about him? This person I have NEVER met asks if I am thinking about him.
Let's see...when I am thinking about zombies, shoes, books, hot dudes who aren't crazy, the Knicks, baked goods, my family, my friends, jeans, rap lyrics, etc.- I am supposed to interrupt ALL OF THAT to think about some dude I have never met- okay, who ISN'T Idris Elba or Jon Hamm. I am suddenly OBSESSED with Jon Hamm. He is just...so manly.
Anyways, I let him know that I had not been thinking about him.
Now you're slowing your roll...he who initiates/d everything because you're afraid I'm going to write about you- well, 2013 is about making dreams come true.
Here's me writing about your wack ass.
Now after that last stroke n' grunt, clean yourself off and bask in the afterglow of me blogging about you.
It will be the first and last time I think about you.
One may say I have my panties in a bunch, but I am just sick to death of dudes assuming that just because they have a penis I am going to get all bent out of shape. Also, one of my gel manicured nails is chipped! It's only been one week! I blame the gym.
Let me preface what's about to happen by saying (something I've said before), just because I know you, have spoken to you, have looked at you, have heard about you- doesn't mean I am going to blog about you.
So this dude I don't know, but by the grace of Facebook have spoken to a handful of times...he may have been trying to charm me as well, in any case he texts me out of the blue and says he's 'chillin' on me because he doesn't want to become fodder for my blog'.
This presumptuous fuckshit assumed I would write about him?
First, I have to give a fuck. Second, boo boo, I don't KNOW you. Thirdly, you have been more annoying than blog worthy.
It's been a clusterfuck of nothingness, superficial technological bullshit and high school antics like when he asked if I was thinking about him? This person I have NEVER met asks if I am thinking about him.
Let's see...when I am thinking about zombies, shoes, books, hot dudes who aren't crazy, the Knicks, baked goods, my family, my friends, jeans, rap lyrics, etc.- I am supposed to interrupt ALL OF THAT to think about some dude I have never met- okay, who ISN'T Idris Elba or Jon Hamm. I am suddenly OBSESSED with Jon Hamm. He is just...so manly.
Anyways, I let him know that I had not been thinking about him.
Now you're slowing your roll...he who initiates/d everything because you're afraid I'm going to write about you- well, 2013 is about making dreams come true.
Here's me writing about your wack ass.
Now after that last stroke n' grunt, clean yourself off and bask in the afterglow of me blogging about you.
It will be the first and last time I think about you.
One may say I have my panties in a bunch, but I am just sick to death of dudes assuming that just because they have a penis I am going to get all bent out of shape. Also, one of my gel manicured nails is chipped! It's only been one week! I blame the gym.
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