Saturday, April 21, 2012

My Barber (and the reason I can't wear sweatpants on Wednesdays)

I'm absolutely convinced that my barber puts his dick on my shoulder.

On purpose.

If you go to the barbershop for those weekly fresh-cuts, then you know that awkward moment when you have to get THE MOST IMPORTANT STEP IN A (BLACK) MAN'S HAIRCUT-- the hair line.

The barber has to stand in front of your face in order to maximize the precision.

And if you're lucky, your barber has a preeettyyyy nice package to keep you entertained.

I'm one of those lucky ones.

*sighs*

Plus he's fine as fuck. We used to work together waaaayyyy back in like, 9th grade and I didn't really pay him much attention. But now that we're older, time has BLESSED this nigga with good looks and from what I'm guessing (hoping), some great dick.

It's time like these when I'm like "damn... the ONE time I'm in a serious ass relationship..."

-_-

I get my hair cut twice a week. On Saturday mornings I go and get my high-top shaped up. On Wednesdays, before bible study, I go to get my hair lined up. Today, I thought it would be a good idea to throw on some sweatpants and just tell the world how much I don't give a fuck about what I'm wearing.

I quickly regretted this decision when it came time for me to stand up and pay for my hair cut.

I had been fantasizing about his dick all through my hair cut (as usual) and had grown quite the woody (as usual).

I know how to "talk my dick down" when in public. A skill that any man with a pulse knows how to do.

But when he took the barber-cape from around my neck, reality hit me like a ton of bricks.

"aw hell, with these damn sweatpants, if I stand up, I'm gonna put somebody's eye out"...

So I had to play my emergency "go over my hairline with a razor" card. That way, I'd be nice and flaccid by the time he was done.

Crisis averted.

My final cut came out nice though. The sun was shining through my blinds just right so I decided to take this dramatic ass pic below.
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Azealia Banks -- 212 I just found this song/vid tonight and I'm in LOVE. Hopefully you'll be as well. <3

(excuse any typos, I'm feeling lazy today)

-_Cogito




















Wednesday, April 11, 2012

We Need A Resolution...

Two weeks ago, one of my old old old friends from waaaayyyy back in 9th grade, tracked me down on Facebook. His name is... We'll call him... "Ty". For now.

Ty is gayer than a glittery-rainbow butt sex orgy in San Francisco (his words, not mine) and he's damn proud of it. We used to kick it all the time back in the day (no funny business though, we were just friends I SWEAR). 

He hit me up in my inbox. We exchanged numbers and have been chatting ever since. 

After the small talk, he cuts straight to the "so who are you dating" questions. 

I tell him about Rob. Coming out to Ty was a no-brainer. He's mad cool and, if I had a pair of balls back then, I would've told him a long time ago. 

It was refreshing to share that side of me with someone...

Ty's gonna be in town next month and we made plans on some "We GOTTA do something when you get here" stuff. 
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Needless to say, all of this has pissed Rob off to the Nth Degree. 
He's so fucking jealous it almost makes me lose my appetite. Almost. 

I mean damn. I could see if I was acting all shifty or gave him some reason to believe I was unfaithful. But shit, the way he's acting, I could accuse him of the same thing...

he went through my phone and demanded my grown ass to explain Ty. When I did, he went out to his truck and sat there. I look up 20 minutes later and realize this nigga still hasn't come in the house, so I go outside. 

After 10,000 years of begging him to let me in the truck, he let me in. 

Long story short: we got into it about me "not letting him know about Ty" and "if it's not a big deal, then why didn't I speak up sooner" and blah blah blah. 

I forget where, but at some point, talking turned into yelling. 

Me: YOU GOTTA X-OUT ALL THAT JEALOUSY SHIT!

Rob: JEALOUS? JEALOUS? [insert angry black man face here]. 

Me: I don't EVER say shit when that one bartender bitch is all up in your face. You think I don't know she's attracted to you? She'd be sucking your dick right NOW if it was up to her.

(and you know what this bastard had the nerve to tell me??) 

Rob: *scoffs*Naw... That's YOUR job. 

Me: [gasps] you motherfucker...

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I ran back in, grabbed my car keys and left his dumb ass at his house. 
That was three hours ago. 
17 text messages, 11 missed calls and one contemplation of a break up later-- I'm back here at Rob's house typing this very post. 
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I'm not gonna play the victim. I COULD have told Rob about Ty. Just to keep the peace. I do know how he gets about shit like this. But at the same time, I'm not responsible for his temper either. 

It IS his place, as my boyfriend, to give me boundaries (and vice versa), but I'm not going to drop a friend of mine just because he doesn't like them or feels threatened. If that's the case, half of the Security Staff at his club would be fired by now...
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I'm just tired of always feeling like the villain is all...

Which is why Aaliyah's "We Need A Resolution" is on REPEAT all day today. Click Here to listen to it.

-_Cogito