Why The F*ck Am I Single?

If I knew why I was single, I wouldn't have this blog, I'd be having hot nasty sex with my boyfriend.

After 10 Years, Here's Why I’m Over Online Dating

This is more like 20 years for me. Add in the fact that I’m black and yeah, I’m single af. I had better chances in Europe, which is why I plan on moving there this year 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

Because I Don’t Like the Smell Of Dirty Diapers

This woman is engaged to a lovely and loyal man. Why is this important? Because homegirl likes to smell and CHEW ON dirty diapers. What👏🏾the👏🏾fuck👏🏾 I guess I’ve been doing it wrong. In order to keep a man, I’m going to have to start liking the smell and taste of dirty diapers.

Because I don't believe in timing

One of my best friends believed that George Clooney was gay because at the time, he was just running through women. I told her that he hasn’t found the right one. Years later, Clooney got married, and she said it was timing, because he was ready to settle down. I responded by saying that his wife is a hot, intelligent lawyer with her own money so of course he would want to claim that. But then she brought up the fact that most of my past relationships ended with the guy breaking up with me, insisting that it was timing. I said no, they were assholes, and this article reiterates my theory.

There was a silence between them for a moment, and she wondered if all women, when in love, were torn between two impulses, a longing to throw modesty and reserve to the winds and confess everything, and an equal determination to conceal the love forever, to be cool, aloof, utterly detatched, to die rather than admit a thing so personal, so intimate.
— Daphne DuMaurier (via sleepybutterflies)

(via durgapolashi)

Since I’m off from work because of the insane amount of snow today, I’m going to hunker down and binge watch Making a Murderer while eating leftover Chinese food and two Peter Pan donuts…you know, like normal people do during a blizzard....

Since I’m off from work because of the insane amount of snow today, I’m going to hunker down and binge watch Making a Murderer while eating leftover Chinese food and two Peter Pan donuts…you know, like normal people do during a blizzard. #snowpocalypse #2016 #jonas #likenormalpeople #snowday #netflix #binge

New York is definitely haunted. Old lovers, ex bfs, anyone you have unresolved issues with, you are bound to run into again and again until you resolve them.
— Carrie Bradshaw from “Sex and the City”
Happy National Doughnut Day!

Happy National Doughnut Day!

fette:
“Fette Sans, Untitled, 2015.
–
Symptoms of love: firstly, the catastrophic inability to distinguish between love and lust, between observation and omen, between necessity and contingency. Later, the sense that it is provocative for the beloved...

fette:

Fette Sans, Untitled, 2015.

Symptoms of love: firstly, the catastrophic inability to distinguish between love and lust, between observation and omen, between necessity and contingency. Later, the sense that it is provocative for the beloved to walk down the street, in the aura of his beauty; anything could happen in this dangerous situation. Feelings of disorientation. Feeling the duty to invent a new language in which to describe the beloved, inevitably getting stuck in the customary language, the conjunction of the worn-out old language and the unformed but necessary new language producing hideous mutations, purple prose. Wetness, slipperiness, not just in the anatomically predictable places but in the edges between one thing and another thing, this new edgeless conception of things making the vowels looser, the joints looser, loosening also any vestigial respect for “private property.” Leaving shops with your pockets full of free jewelry, with which to decorate yourself for the beloved. Or, under duress and for similar reasons, buying new clothes.

Hannah Black, from K in Love, for the New Inquiry, February 2013.

Yes…

Because I have a dirty mind

  • Him: You could come by my place. I have doughnuts from Dunwell.
  • Me: Doughnuts and dick...tempting.
  • Him: I could even put the doughnuts directly on my dick.
  • Me: Oooh! Wait, are they glazed doughnuts? Never mind, you can glaze them for me.
Sex is kicking death in the ass while singing.
— Charles Bukowski