Thursday, July 12, 2012

We'd rather have dysfunction...

Excuse my absence for any of these three reasons:

1. I'm taking care of my sick grandmother. Literally. (I know it sounds cliche, but...)
2. I'm STRONGLY considering a Vlog.

Ugh. Where do I even begin?

My last post, Kane Rider, was brief as hell because I had to post it on some 007, incognito stuff, on one of the Campus computers. I posted that one a few days ago, on July 9th.

On July 4th, when I should've been getting my life down at the beach with the rest of the sexy mofoz, I spent my evening watching CSI episodes, cuz their top notch forensics always reminds me I can't get away with murder. Unfortunately. -_-

Earlier that day, Rob had just got back in town from a two week trip to Paramus, NJ for some Black Entrepreneurial Summit/Convention/Orientation crap. And of course I was missing my baby, so I HAD to kick it with him. I picked him up from the airport and he was hungry, so we stopped by Olive Garden.

Mind you, for a nigga who owns a Bar, Rob is a LIGHTWEIGHT drinker. Two half-assed glasses of dinner wine, and he's like 70% faded. Not only that, but he's one of those confrontational drunks. His mouth gets slick as hell and he can say some mean SHIT when he wants to...

I kinda knew what I was in for, so I said to myself I was gonna just play it cool, and expect a teensy lil bit of bullshit.

Fast-Forward to his place, after the "good to see my baby again" sex.

Not to blow my own horn, but I give some bomb head.

Before I could say the Serenity Prayer, Rob was out like a light.

I was like "????? naw, nigga, naw! You was talking all that game on Skype about wearing me out, and I'm up for the challenge"...

This nigga rolls over. Opens the top drawer of the nightstand, and tossed his fleshlight on the bed.

Bitch. Ass. Nigga. I was pissed. -_- Smh. No longer in the mood, I got my laptop out and started doing homework. His ass was snoring so loud, I could hear him through my headphones. So I go to the kitchen table and finish living my life.

I was Skyping with some of the people in my group, for this project.
I look up and Rob walks past the camera in nothing but his dress socks.

Immediatly, my Spidey-Senses kicked in and as a reflex, my "whole lot of inappropriate, questionable, ASS was just shown to my classmates" button went off, and as a first reaction, I slam my laptop closed.

Rob: who tf was that?
Me: does it matter? You knew I was doing stuff for class. You gotta be THAT damn aunry?"

(insert "I'm not cheating, you're just jealous and don't trust me" dialogue here).

When he wants to piss me off in a nanosecond, he calls me a bitch ass nigga.
When I want to piss him off, I say "just cuz you're old enough to be my dad, doesn't mean you ARE my dad."

We exchange insults as I'm re-logging back onto my computer. I planned on ignoring his drunk ass, cuz I know he can't stand it.

There I am, typing in my password, and tuning him out, when all I hear is:

" fucking quick to close ya laptop, I'll close it for ya'..."

And he did.

He slammed my laptop closed so hard, it cracked my screen down the middle.

I was too disgusted to speak. I was livid. I was seeing red. I was seething with anger.

And to top it all off, he tried to give me some "look what you made me do" excuse.

...fuck I look like?

Nigga wanted to FUCK UP a staple of my life? Cool. 2 can play that game.

As I stormed out the door, I decided to have the Queen-est, Gayest, moment of my life--

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive

a 2007 Dodge Magnum, to be exact. Next to his bar and his dick, that pretty thang in his driveway is what makes him get up in the morning.

So fuck him. Fuck him, that car, that laptop...

Fuck what we had.

The G in me can't continue being disrespected like that.

We hadn't talked since then. No calls. No texts. No nothing. Until earlier today.

I called him cuz I was outside of his door and I needed to get in and grab some of my things. He could keep the rest.

As he was unlocking the door, I noticed he had the key-scratches buffed out on his car. Why can't love be that easy?

He opens the door and what do I see siting on the coffee table?

A box. Not just any box. A box with an apple on it. This nigga "thought I needed to upgrade anyway", so he bought me a MacBook.

I don't even fucks with Apple products. But here I am. Writing this post. At his kitchen table. Like I was a few days ago.

Crazy as it sounds, it's like we'd rather have dysfunction than nothing at all.

You know the rest.

(Enjoy the pics. There's nothing like some good old fashioned smut to calm the nerves).



  1. Wow, relationships can be something else can't they?

    Rob was wrong as shit. I'm on your side. But he made it up to you in a big way. That was sweet.

    But try to stop pushing each other's buttons. And Cogito keying somebody's car? What the fuck? Dude be the bigger man.

    Take care of yourself. We have never met but you know I love you man! You have given me some great words of wisdom on my journey and always been supportive.

    Take care man!

    P.S. That photo of that hairy ass -- that asshole is calling me! LOL

  2. @Immanuel--

    Yeah, it was a weak moment on my part. I didn't have to key his car. I feel bad about it, in retrospect. But still...

    Sho nuff tho, the love is reciprocated and yes, that is one beautiful backside, huh?



  3. I'm going through your blog backwards, and I'm loving each entry by the second... You and Rob are really something else, kinda reminds me of my ex n I (we actually having a more passionate relation now since the breakup - go figure!)

    Anyway, thanks again. To me you are the bigger person, I smashed his car windows in, but I found him in bed with my former dumb-ass assistant!

    Much love.