A.B.M.

I like the new Facebook reactions but I think they missed the boat by not finally adding a dislike button or reaction.  I think they need to add a hard dick reaction so chicks definitively know why I’m liking their pictures. I don’t want there to be any room for doubt but I feel without a hard dick reaction there could be. I won’t hold my breath though.

I’ve had Coco Nina for a little over a month now and I think I’ve finally calmed down a bit. I was so paranoid about something, anything happening to her that I really didn’t enjoy her for the first week or two. I’d be looking out the window at various times like that iconic picture of Malcolm X anytime someone even looked like they wanted to park their raggedy ass car next to my baby.  I still get nervous when I see a raggedy car or some random nigglets loitering around her but it’s gotten better.

The turn around time between prepping and moving new people in is ridiculous. I’m just glad I’m not smelling paint fumes and hearing them stretching the carpet. Between the smell and the obnoxious thumping and banging I was about to go out of my mind. Anyway, new neighbors moved in on the first of the month. I still can’t say for sure who moved in because outside of moving day I haven’t seen anyone enter or leave next door. I do hear them though, slamming doors and it sounds like they’re running sprints up and down the stairs. I don’t think they’ll make it past December without an eviction notice on the door. Doesn’t look like I’ll be moving this year.  I’m a little bummed out over that.

So dating has pretty much stalled out. I’m not sure if it’s me, them, or a combination that’s at fault but since it’s generally more satisfying to blame others I’ll put it on them. So I matched up with a chick and we chatted briefly. In fact she contacted me almost immediately which was a little awkward because my plan was originally to just check out some profiles and then catch up on my DVR. She was kind of pushy wanting to meet up that day. Mind you this early into the conversation, I don’t even know her name and she doesn’t know mine. Hell, at this point I can’t even confirm that she doesn’t have a dick but she wants to come over and watch some movies. *sigh* 

It seems like they always want to throw their numbers at me and have me call them right away or they want to meet up now. All I know is I liked some pictures. We haven’t even chatted long enough for me to decide if I want to risk being held hostage on the phone with you. The chat was kind of boring and the last thing I want is to be stuck with some dry, boring bitch on the phone or at my place. I’m guessing she was probably down to fuck since she was pestering me to come over so badly but I’d rather be myself that day then risk being bored with her and having to figure out a nice way to get rid of her. So what’s a dry, boring chick to me? If I can talk to you for any significant length of time without my dick twitching or thinking about sex than she’s a dry, boring chick.

Compared to Detroit, Raleigh is so spread out. I guess I still haven’t shed my Detroit mentality. Here someone will say something is only about 75 or 90 minutes away like it’s nothing. I hear it’s far and what kind of lube do I want to use when the gas pump bends me over and violates me since Coco Nina drinks gas I like I drink pop. In Detroit, anything over about a half hour away is geographically undesirable unless it’s a special occasion. Meeting some random strange with untested, unproven pussy doesn’t qualify as a special occasion but apparently the boundaries for being declared geographically undesirable are much broader here. I’m still getting used to that.

I’ve been trying to work on some things with me lately. It seems like nowadays I have even less patience than the little that I normally have. I started noticing that I was losing my battle with anger more often than I’d like. The problem is that what I’ve been doing doesn’t really satisfy my need or desire to explode or actually calms me (thus preventing it). Meditation has always been kind of hit or miss me, especially when my anger is simmering. I’ve tried telling people that made me angry instead of bottling up and waiting for it to explode but that doesn’t really take the edge off. I think I need to find something to hit or destroy. Sometimes I just want to scream, grunt, growl, cuss, and howl at the moon while breaking something until I physically can’t break anything else. There’s something about the physical release that calms me down for lack of a better explanation. Maybe I can get something similar printing out some head shots, going to the gun range, and seeing how recognizable the pictures are when the magazine is empty. I like the gun range. I think fucking might work too. Pussy might not be the answer but it should always be thoroughly investigated before it can be ruled out.

Author: Freaky Deaky I'm a horny, opinionated, smart-ass, antisocial, introverted, misanthropic, agnostic, nonconformist, free thinking, hedonistic, highly intelligent, and arrogant black man with a dirty mind.