Batter dipping the corn-dog

While I acknowledge and admit that - that title is a horribly poor euphemism for fucking,

It was either that of "mix my milk with your cocopops" and God forbid someone searched out coco pops on google and my blog came up with that filth.

As always this is an excerpt from a conversation I had last night.

* back ground of random bants*

Him: How the hell did you get me from trying to fuck you to wanting to just chill with you?

Me: You are going to have to ask the other nigga's before you. I have no idea how they handle it.

Him: *blank stare*

Two things, I am a horrible misyarner. Not out of spite but just because I say the randomest things and  everybody who doesn't know me some people find it offensive. And I truly apologize but its not malice driven.

I happened to attend an abuja wedding over the weekend. and can I just say that even though I am not attempting to start anything or keep score

Lagos weddings -1000
Abuja weddings - Negative 500.

Infact Lagos for the WINNNNNNNN.

I miss Lagos so much.

You know what I also miss- Handling an actual red wine glass.

Stroking the stem and sipping my red moscato.

Not the actual taste of alcohol but all the little acts that make up the total sum of actually drinking.

The argument of  who handle's the cock screw. the inane giggling after three glasses, the random swerve in conversations after three bottles.

And the eventual debauchery that stems from always drinking more than one should.( as evidenced by wretched videos and photos- which I hope won't surface when I plan to run for office).

That is what I hate about not drinking. The fact that I'm missing out on all these emotions and motions.

Self discipline for the almost win.

But for everyday I win the inward battle of not tasting alcohol and indulging myself in that particular whim- I feel like I have won, Just a little.

And as the days pass- that feeling grows, and I love that more than I miss handling a glass stem so I guess I'm not slitting my wrists yet- anytime soon.

I find that people are slightly amused when I tell them I don't drink alcohol- then actually alarmed when they find I am serious- because you know, everyone should.

People, learn to respect other people's choices.

You do not see me asking you stupid questions like why are you sagging your fucking pants- so do not be asking me rubbish questions like why do you not drink.

( I'm really not mad, it just gets tiring having to repeat over and over - MYOB)

Also during conversation with my guest last night turns out I am very guarded- I feel like I over shareeeeee.

Apparently not.

Just reading my blog and I find that I am an oversharer of fluff.

I also think I should pay more attention to my star sign- some people devote their lives to that shit, and me I don't even know much about mine except I'm supposed to be a bad bitch- which I figure I would be even if I was born in June. ( No offence to June babies).

But because I do nothing in halves, I am hesitant to get involved in that horoscope shit.

So good week everyone.

PS- I currently have a red weave- AND I AM KILLING THE SHIT OUT OF IT.

For real. I leave a trail of drops of blood in my walk.

This weave is SLAYING!!!