I feel as though you and I, dear reader, are beyond polite conversation. That’s why I say I probably will not have a sustained meaningful or sexual relationship with the guy who sent me an email to say hello and that he was surprised he could read the email I sent him through a dating service because said service has been acting up and he can’t read it on the site but the email came through to his real email account so he was able to read it. Then, he signed his name. I tend to attract the socially awkward or the pathologically damaged ones and am beginning to realize that these sorts are not to be fucked. I’m just saying. (Note: I ain’t no ho, I’m just saying.)

Which suddenly reminds me of the guy who stuck his dead fish tongue down my throat. I just don’t recommend doing that on a first date or ever. I was so shocked I didn’t beat him with my purse but I vow to lay the smack down on anybody else that does that. World, consider yourself duly warned.

I don’t like leprechaun hands either. If a man’s hands are smaller than mine, it will never work. I’m sorry. I ain’t trying to hate.

Okay, now that I’ve got my ghettospeak done with, I wish you peeps a good day.