She may be bitchy.
And she may check my fingers-
Slam her hard metal pole down on them-
Each time we practice lacrosse.
And she may roll her eyes
But I don't hate her.
I feel sorry for her.
Because I think I'm the only one
Who pays attention
Through the laughter and fun
He touches her.
And she makes a joke out of it
So her minions snap out of their dazed state and
Chuckle a little bit.
But his crawling fingers are greedy
And her words are scarce.
All of the brain-dead minions
Laugh when she jokingly screams,
Let's face it,
Don't call this racist,
Cause that's not the case, Bitch.
There's a cultural Basis.
'Basic White Bitches'
Of any Race
you can find
(which, by the way
Is every single race).
Everyone who's not a basic white bitch
can spot a basic white bitch,
Caucasian or not, it's
based on Identity
not Color or Shade.
You're not an Oasis
of cultural expectations,
and you have no idea
how your Entitlement
but it's okay,
Cuz you see, Babe,
The rest of us still need to
The Culture that made you.
And as bad as this may
Make you feel, I'll just say
there's a good chance that this
is the only form of 'Hate'
I've heard once,
some words coming out
your sexy mouth,
you were telling me,
and all the others,
how I've been everything to you.
So tell me now,
when you don't have me
does that mean:
We've heard of a woman's grace,
And romantic fables of her charm.
But delve beneath the surface,
And stir waters outwardly calm.
A woman, if pleased is divine
And will do plenty to prove her grace.
when angry she'll turn serpentine
And descend like a meteor from space.
She’ll be sarcasm personified,
Every sentence riddled with a taunt.
You’ll be slandered and vilified,
And derided as shabby & gaunt.
When pleased she’ll be friendly and chatty
And lure you to reveal your fears.
But soon she’ll turn vile and catty,
And delight in your failures.
She won't leave a chance to ridicule
And bring up things you’d rather forget.
She will attack with every feminine tool,
And force you to mull and regret.
And when you've had enough of her satire
And try to give her a piece of your mind,
She will breathe out tons of fire,
And to crisp she'll burn your behind.
So don't prod a woman to show
Her bitchy and vindictive side
Be a gentleman if you don't want to know
That Far from being Jekyll, she's Mr. Hyde
I have skin allergies.
I had to give up inter-racial sex because it was too itchy ~
not to mention Latino women were too moody and bitchy.
Next time I want to get on an emotional roller-coaster
I'll go to Six Flags.
I need to see more, love more, hate more, be broken more, have my soul ripped out, and then ripped from wherever it was tossed to, I need to mourn, and become tired, I need to shine and outshine until the light is blinding, I need to explore and feel and think and breathe just a little deeper a little more effortlessly a little more passion driven and full blooded, I need to be more head strong and bitchy, I need to be old and young and all the in between, I need to live and die and be reborn, and read, read everything front to back and cover to cover, in every language. In every color, I need to listen and absorb, until life and death are all in one, until my ears bleed and my bones are brittle, until my cunt is worn and my heart torn and sewn so many times it’s a solid rock of scars, I need to be everything good bad beautiful devilish and pure…so I can be a better writer.