I am afraid of women.
For those of you who are my mates and are obviously not
women(if you have evolved and are producing more oestrogen than testosterone or
are proudly not camouflaging the set of
2 fatty non-milk producing tissue on your thorax, no you don’t count), will
know this fact about me.
I would only proudly say I have had a female companion at
various phases of my life and when the next growth spurt occurred, I left them
behind. But like ghosts they stay with me, haunting my conscience with
nostalgia and longing (that is too many big words). Sometimes, I miss them and
would love to call them but…they are women. Do I buy her chocolate to apologise
about how long it’s been since we spoke? Stalk her on Facebook and like her
pictures to get an ‘in’ before calling. Would she be a different person or she
will be my same friend from yesteryear. I can’t ask the guys because all they
would say is just call her. Dude, it is complicated. I didn’t break up with
them but leaving it hanging for more than a couple of months is bad and she is
a girl, meyne. No offense but Adam was snoring his bollocks off when God was
working on the details so y’all can’t help me.
Sound track for more than a couple of Homo sapiens vaginus walking in heels anywhere should be Move
B***th by Ludacris. It is a formidable sight and every one automatically moves out of the way like a scene from Mean Girls. Speaking to
them for the first time, listening to details about sanything and generally girly stuff is just
too hard. I just got into lipstick and blush so i have conversation starters :D.
Or lawd see how I rant on and on about women; complicated
beautiful beings. Without whom y’all won’t survive no matter how much you work
on shipping us to Barsum and enjoying the sad freedom on this ever dying Earth
You know what I will just call her, all die be die