KISSED A FROG BEFORE?

Being single, especially after being in an exasperating, emotionally drenching, unfulfilling relationship is great; fantastic even. Up to the point where you get lonely and forget somebody’s bad qualities. You even think you miss them; get back with them and it's plain awful! A fine example of Rihanna, lovely dame, with the kind of bruised sensuous beauty that incites male aggression and the rancor of unfulfilled desires…bottom line: she can GET IT, ALL OF IT! -and she did. Unfortunately, not in the titillating BDSM way we all imagined.  By the time Chris Brown was done, her right eye was lost in the swelling flesh that had been her face and her clothes were soaked in her blood, snot and tears. Who knew Chris Brown was such a massive douche bag! Months down the line here she is, shining bright like a diamond , right next to the guy who had the cahones to tattoo her battered face on his neck, barely before his bruised knuckles had healed…like some kind of sociopathic trophy!  

The nerve!

I do not mean to reprove her actions; though I would give an arm to know what in the goddamn universe is Chris Brown giving her; citing that she is already beautiful, talented, rich and famous. We have at some point in life pulled a Rihanna, not necessarily in the extreme face battering sense. I for one am guilty of kissing the same douche-y frog twice. This week I am in the mood of exorcising those ego-bruising memories. In retrospect, I honestly doubt this woman ever gave a flying rat’s arse about me. Obviously, there were glaring warning signs, which for the life of me I don’t know why I ignored. Here goes my long-awaited bitch-fest!!

This post pubescent emotional bully would make snide comments about my body size or lack thereof. Lord knows how much that gets on my nerves. “Put down the cupcake then we can talk” (am I right??!). In what universe is this considered foreplay? Undress a woman then derisively call her pimple-chested with boy hips and expect to tap that?? (According to Wolf’s knowing hands, I am sufficiently endowed in those areas; well beyond training bras and padded underwear). If I did give a hoot about her lack of a filter, I would have kicked her in the lady balls and stomped away in a huff. But I didn’t care, and I was no more evolved than an alley cat on heat then. (*chuckle*) She was a walking contradiction especially since she would bash and make rude remarks about plus-sized women yet she wasn’t exactly a size 10. I never understood what that was about.

Another irritating behavior was constantly bringing up stale tales of exotic melon breasted women who were after her (for some reason, they sounded like they had gigantic synthetic porn star breasts!!), how many she had had carnal knowledge of and then in the same breath say I am a player, with a hint of accusation in her voice. She was mean-spirited too. One time she said my finger felt like a baby’s penis inside her. Total lady bone killer! I never made an attempt to pleasure her again after that. I was absolutely comfortable with being a pillow queen with her rather than get Carpal Tunnel Syndrome for thankless work though it was unfamiliar territory for me. I could live without the physical aspect of the relationship. It wasn’t exactly toe-curling! I don’t understand how some women do that; just lie there like a sack of potatoes and wait to spew forth cum. Don’t you get terribly bored? I will not even get into her Mercurial temperament. It would have been like living with the Hulk had I dared U-haul that one.

I finally had it to my pubes when this heifer went to the extreme of asking if she could make squelches with my younger teenage sister. The sheer nerve, regardless of whether she was joking or not (she wasn't) . I was so mad my butt twitched every time I thought of her. I suppose that would make her an ephebophile, which still sounds as rapy as pedophile.  Even Wolf‘s highly perceptive sense of people hadn't made me realize I was dating a vapid shallow black hole of a human being until then. It wasn't worth the short term happiness and superficiality I was striving for. I cut my losses and headed for the hills.

I had hardly healed when I met her couple of months later in town, uterus to her knees with child stomping around with the grace of a drunken hippo (she wasn't really that big I am just being mean; let me have it). I was more relieved than shocked. Given, I didn't even know she swung that way! The baby twinkie jab finally made sense; she could eat a bag of wieners for all I cared now! I believe I dodged a bullet with her and I was very grateful; who knows? She could have potentially risked my health by having undercover, black ops, unprotected sex with men. With all that cathartic venting aside, I wasn't the least bit deterred as I still went on to explore the deepest recesses of a few frog mouths before I finally let Wolf yank me from the cold moss covered pond and make an honest woman out of me.