When Crazy Goes Right...Then Left

Follow me on a journey of love…or something kinda similar to the idea of love.

In a world long ago in a galaxy close, close by…

I had a girlfriend. She was crazy. I mean, certifiable. The type of chick that threatened to cut my penis off if she even smelt another females scent on me…then showed me the knife she would do it with. But, I loved this girl. Something about the crazy ones makes for a great time. It also makes for a passionate time which then makes for a fiery blast of a time that eventually ends in a nuclear reaction of break ups. And so it came to pass that my relationship ended in a blaze of fire and glory and confusion similar to the Rodney King riots.

But alas, if there is one thing I really miss about this girl it is…the sex. And so I thought about getting back with my crazy ass ex simply for the sex.

If you ain’t never had sex with someone you were seconds away from killing, you are missing out. Sex so good make you want to wear church shoes with jeans. Sex so good you travel across the country. That kind of sex.

But with her, words could not describe the passion between us. It was like two stars fighting for control of the galaxy and each eventually gives way to the other creating something more beautiful than either one could have imagined. With her, it wasn’t sex it was love and we didn’t make it…we became it.

We would lose ourselves in each other’s caress. Lose words to heavy breathing, lose thought to feeling. Lose control to chaos and let lust reign over us.

And even though after that night, I had to call the cops on her to get her out of my house, it was the best sex I ever had. 

And now that I am single I’m thinking…maybe we should give it another try?

Maybe we should’ve never broken up?

Maybe we should’ve seen the Avengers together?

Maybe we should ride a tandem bicycle to the beach for ice cream?

Maybe this is all we need to rediscover our love?

Or maybe I’m crazy?

Possibly.

Oh To Be Young And In Like

So, I was on my way to work today and instead of doing what i usually do (trying to guess which person on the train may be a sociopathic murderer), I instead found myself a captive audience to a sickening display of young "love".

Anyway, as I sat there trying to not watch the Wendy's girl paw all over Patty Mayonnaise's (definitely EX after she reads this) boyfriend, my mind drifted back to a purer time. The days when I was a young boy/man, fueled by hormones, sugary drinks, and unsurmountable horniness. Actually, now that I think about it, those times weren't really purer at all.

So as I stood there trying to look around the two 9th graders fucking each other with their clothes on, I feel a look of utter disgust beginning to wash over me. I thought to myself, "Surely there's no way I was this horny back then." But then, the more I thought of it, the more I realized how much that was pure bullshit. As I stood there flashing back to EPICLY getting to 3rd base on the morning school bus commute, I remembered that I was exactly that horny back then. 


In fact, there was even a specific code I abided by back then to "almost" safely navigate said horniness. The basic rules of engagement pretty much amounted to performing two simple actions:

1. Avoid doing anything around parents.

2. Avoid cock-blocking adults.

3. Do whatever you can get away with while staying aware of rules 2 and 3.


(Ok, I know that was three, but it just sounded so much easier if I said that there were only two things that you needed to do. Oh well, on with the show.)
Anyway, those were some crazy days. I mean, that shit was like the wild west of dick grinding, absolutely out of control. Which reminds of a story.

You see, once upon a time, a younger far less experienced me had THEE biggest crush on a girl named Tameka Mack. I mean this girl was a COLD TONI. And,  maybe she liked me back, I don't know. But what I do know is that I used to suck on her massive titty-balls just about every day behind the bleachers in 10th grade weight training. Every now and then it would go a little further and there would be some intense dick/pussy rubbing and maybe a little kissing. I say maybe because Tameka used to really be on some "Are you gonna suck'em or not?" type action in those days and as soon as we got in the back she was smothering me with areolas and grinding against my left thigh. Which, of course, I was completely ok with. Matter of fact, I was practically overjoyed with it. 


Isn't that crazy? I mean if a lady did something like that to me in the now-time, I. Would. Be. PISSED. Absolutely, FURIOUS. But back then... Hey, anything was plenty man, and was better than nan or nothing at all. (Book of Devin: Chapter 3 verse 7)

Well, weight training came and went. And me and Tameka soon found ourselves in other romantic situations around our sprawling high school campus. 


*sigh* 


She was a great girl.


And just like that I was no longer in a flashback scene. I was back on the train surrounded by jerks and people who look like jerks. I then paused to look down at these two young souls boldly embarking onto their journey of sexual discoveries and social embarrassment (in front of more than 150 people engaged in NYC public transportation), smiled to myself and thought, "enjoy it while it lasts you crazy kids..."

Then I looked down again and they were still going at it. My look of disgust and judgement immediately returned as I was like, "Really yall? Do I have to really to listen to yall swap spit and smeared lip gloss RIGHT next to me and my laptop case?" That's when I shiveringly remembered those (apparently still) long honored rules of engagement I told you guys about earlier, hurriedly grabbed my stuff and found my way to the opposite side of train.

SmH

Fucking teenagers.

The Duality of Hip Hop Wisdom

So, there you stand, beautiful human being that you are, living in a world where you are constantly showered by the affections of a certain lady. Let's call her lady A.

Lady A is phenomenal, she's cooler than anyone you've ever known, gets all your jokes, and fucks you like a sexy demon. Now, while she's doing all this, somehow -- you begin to gain the affections of another lady. We'll call her Lady J.

Lady J is alright, she doesn't get all your jokes, but she does make them. And the ones she does make aren't that bad. You've actually never met a woman with an engaging sense of humor before (not one that you actually appreciated anyway) so you find each witty response from her somehow more entertaining than the last. And just like that you've suddenly become surrounded by two fascinating women, and both of them want YOU. Why? Well that's easy, I told you at the beginning of the story, you're a beautiful human being. 

Well, Lady J is starting to get particularly aggressive these days, and honestly it's really not that hard to see  why. Clearly she wants... 


THE DICK. 


Which is, of course, awesome. But that's when you start to wonder what... 


"Wait a second.

Hey! what happened to Lady A?" 


Oh... You mean Lady A who leaves loving voicemails singing "your" song. Lady A, whose head fits perfectly within your lover's embrace? Lady A who threw you the most perfect surprise birthday party ever, even though you hate birthdays, and surprises? That Lady J?


Well... It goes like this.

New. Pussy. Happened.

And new pussy might not have a "song" with you. It probably doesn't watch movies with you curled up into an angelic coil of love and consideration. And it certainly won't understand why you like to eat grape jelly with your scrambled eggs. (SO GOOOOOOD)

But the thing is, none of those things matter when new pussy shows up. New pussy is the perfect storm of extenuating circumstances. It's like the full house of romantic opportunities, almost impossible to beat and shamelessly lusted after. 


And that's when it happens...

*doorbell ringing sound of your choosing*

Who should be standing there in the rain, eyes shining brightly into your world, shabbily shielded from the torrential elements by her blue and white umbrella? You already knew who it was, you two were texting before the storm began to get intense. She "just so happened" to be in your neighborhood and was wondering if you could do something to help her out. She was soaking wet. 

That's when you open your door and say, "Heyyy new pussy Lady J! What possibly brings you to this neighborhood? And so late, too? Don't you know that this is when the dangerous men come out?"

To which she not-so-subtly responds, "maybe I'm looking for a dangerous man."



*Blows whistle and runs onto field to throw penalty flag*


*Proceeds to read from the book of Devin, chapter 2 verse 13*


"When you fucking over your fasho pussy trying to get some mo pussy, you'll end up with no pussy... No pussy."


*Picks up flag and walks back off field*

That's when she looks at you and says, "So... do you mind if I hang out over here for a little while?"

And what do YOU do? 

Well, that's easy. You open the door and proceed to fuck that woman like an uncaged beast. 

I know what you're thinking, you're all, "but Mr. Et Cetera, what about that passage from the book of Devin? Why would he still do that?"

Well... I'm glad you asked that. See, as much wisdom as can be found in the words of Devin (so much wisdom), they usually just glance right over those good sunday passages and skip straight to the book of Nas, specifically chapter 5 verse 7... 

Which just so happens to read as follows...

*AHEM*

"Aint no pussy like new pussy thats how a nigga feel"

Welp... there's only one thing you can say to that.

Amen.

GYHAOM

As i sit here sweating profusely into my black socks and leather desk chair ( don't ask... Let's just say my furniture is less than "summer friendly" in fact, it's actually mostly "summer hot-as-fuck-ALL-THE-TIME" which was quite popular before I moved into this apartment for some reason back in DECEMBER! Here is the part where you imagine me kicking myself furiously, And. Scene) I say to myself, "Self, what will the topic be today?" Well, after receiving no reply or justification for referring to myself in the third person. I am left with the most current thought that springs to mind.

G. Y. H. A. O. M.

This one is going to be short and sweet dope fiends. The concept is not to hard to grasp, yet incredibly foreign to some of you lady types. So we will make it simple.

1. Contrary to some ill-gotten idea you dreamed up, I am not sweating underneath you because of anxiety or physical exhaustion. Listen we aren't doing anything but laying around watching tv. Sexual relations were exed out of the equation as soon as I walked into this tropical rain forest you call an apartment. So, please realize that I am only sweating because the sun has turned your apartment into a 2010 EasyBake Oven. Ma'am seriously, GET. YOUR. HOT. ASS. OFF. ME.

your apartment

2. It is 11pm and its 97 degrees outside, and 98.6 degrees IN YOUR MOUTH! Why are you all up in my face right now?

3. That fan AINT. DOING. SHIT. Seriously.

4. Did you really just get under some covers? (Sigh and a half) Maam, it is Blazing Hip Hop and R&B in here (shout out to @kamarichelsea TPG up!) you might have to let go of that "Are you afraid of the dark" sensation, and come out those covers. Unless you want to find out how it feels to have a heat stroke.

5. Is there a reason why you use your air conditioner like it's the last wish in the lamp? I'm pretty sure turning that thing on for a couple hours will not send you to the poor house. Besides it feels like Satan is tap dancing on the door knob in here.

6. I was serious about that fan (sigh).... see number 3.

And trust me, I like to snuggle up as much as the next non-snugglephobe... but this summer heat wave has quickly given me a change of heart. And, until the Fire Nation stops attacking my bedroom, you guys might as well consider me the Grinch Who Stole Snuggling. That's all I got.


Also, Airbender sucked.

-Peace