Why Dating Me Could Suck
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Quite obviously, I am the bees knees. I’m very important and I have many leather bound books and my apartment reeks of fresh mahogany. And ladies, when I get married, it’s going to be on top of a mountain, and there’s going to be flutes playing and trombones and flowers and garlands of fresh herbs. And there will be dancing till the sun rises. And then my children will form a family band. And we will tour the countryside.
You won’t be invited.
I’m all that. Silverfish handcatch swag.
Yet, I realize that there are things about myself that could drive any woman to drink. I know that we spend a lot of time in this corner of the internets explaining why we’re all perfect beings who listen to classical music and sh*t fairy dust couplets of Shakespearean sonnet, but alas…we’re not all without flaw. Personally, I’m just an ordinary people. I don’t know which way to go. My iPhone tells me one thing but my heart tells me something else.
All yokes aside (*rimshot*, no Rusty Trombone), we all love to explain why we’re great dating partners and why everybody else is the problem. Well, today I decided to let you in on the unawesomeness that can be PJ3. Basically, the things about dating me that just might suck. Or at least could drive you absolutely batsh*t. And by you, I mean women in general. Keep in mind, I don’t think that I suck, just that I understand why some things about me could suck to other people who indubitably suck for not being as fawesome as I am. Just like that, I undid all the goodwill.
Allons-y!
1. I get absolutely booooooooooored with politics and deep discourse as a rule
I have a friend who likes to be apart of nothing but deep conversations. Can’t knock her hustle but I’m so not that dude. In fact, I often bore of depth and purposeful rigamaroll. I’ll write about it on occasion and spend time really digging, but at the end of the day, I’d rather talk about why it’s impossible to move as much weight as so-and-so claims. Or pop culture. I love waxing philosophical about pop culture and the characters involved. Basically, while I can speak about things that require reading, I’d rather spend my afternoon talking about ninjadom.You can keep your C-SPAN dreams. I will talk about why we won’t make it as a people though. Ad nauseum.
2. I’m insanely insensitive at times, especially when it comes to race matters
Sometimes I even surprise myself with the sh*t I say outloud. People tend to find it endearing, until they hate me. You think I just write like this? Naw son, I talk like this normally. It’s not a game. Ask all the El Salvadorans I keep calling Mexican. Point is, I’m going to say something insensitive…often. Sensitive ninjas need not apply even though sensitive people love putting in applications for stuff that will burn them. What’s in your wallet?
3. I can seriously eat at the same places every.single.day.
That drives folks crazy. One thing I hate f*cking around with is my food. I do not like ordering sh*t I don’t understand and then not liking the sh*t I didn’t understand in the first place. Basically, I’m a foodie’s worst nightmare. Of course, I’ll try anything once. But its hard for me to appreciate your $35 presentation of sorbet…which I really think you should call sherbert and come in rainbow colors.
4. Speaking of food…I’m always ordering chicken fingers
Put that in your pipe and smoke it, beyotch.
5. I really could do a movie night 7 nights a week
Now I wouldn’t actually force that upon anybody. And also, my movie night isn’t codeword for bone. My Netflix queue is gangbusters, my dealer. I have every bad black movie flagged and I really want to watch them. It’s perfect bonding time because Bad Black Movie Watching is a communal activity and contact sport. Add some liquor to the mix and it’s all good like a Sunday in Baltimore. And just to prove to you that I’m not just trying to swagsurf you out, I may put you out afterwards. Point is, I can see why this could get old for anybody real quick.
6. I hate doing cultural sh*t just for the sake of doing it (same with going out out)
I’ve learned that a lot of people, especially in DC, like to do sh*t just to say they did it because it exists. Can’t knock the hustle, Jay, but eees no me. If I said it, I meant it, bite my tongue for no one. Call me evil? I’m unbelievable. You want to go see that exhibit of the first insecticide repellant plant in African-American history (what?). Naw duke, I’m trying to go get my “Rack City b*tch…rack, rack city b*tch on…”
That’ll do pig.
Well there you go. I put some of my non-sense on blast. Won’t you be my neighbor? What about you might drive other folks crazy?