It’s been a goddamn busy week for me and it has been so fucking stressful, that I haven’t had time to write anything (for myself). Apparently, I’m too selfless (fuck you! I am!) for my own good, and I should put my fucking blog first.
Am I the only one who thinks there are too many expletives in that paragraph?
Let’s try something shall we? No curse words in this post, except for the ones that have already been dropped of course.
Good! Just sweet loving and pounded yam lingo.
Note: The words “Bitch” and “Nigga” are not curse words! I make the rules here. Check the Terms and Conditions page.
Note to self: Make a Terms and Conditions page.
As we enter the season of valentine and all that time-wasting gay stuff, I won’t begin to bore anyone with any of the tips on how to shenk your girlfriend. (Check our sisteh blog TSC for tips on those). Nah…none o’ dat. I read a post today by some Psycho chick that truly inspired me. The said post was teaching babes how to detect how your man is cheating by getting your Nancy-Drew meets Girl-Fawkes mode on, and going all retro-magnifier on his ass.
Girl, please! Real niggas are like a cross breed between Unicorns and Phoenixes. Ever caught one? No!
This is not to say you will begin to rest on your oars because you’re the Invisible Man when a search is being held, dear real nigga. Be careful! Female Dogs are air hostesses. Bitches be tripping. One slip-up, and you’re done. Women are a lot smarter than we think they are. If you ever woke up in the middle of the night to catch her staring at you, you better clear your browser history.
[“Bitches” there was not a curse word. It was a term to describe females. Cos I don’t know all your names. You know…as a collective noun]
Now this post isn’t for the real niggas. We got all that stuff covered. This here is for the bitch niggas that can’t seem to cover up their tracks like a wolf with no tail.
Listen close bitch nigga. I won’t say this stuff twice.
When your girl comes into your crib to investigate, she is going to come unexpectedly. (What you think?). She’s going to walk straight to your bedroom.
Apparently, (according to the post), if your room is unnecessarily tidy, you, bitch nigga, have been cheating.
Now we know this is true. (._. )
Don’t worry, I’ve come up with a worthy excuse for this. When accosted, you sober the heck up, and say the following words; verbatim:
“Today is my grandmother’s death anniversary. She always made me tidy up my room whenever she was around and I did it to remember her”.
Get your act right, and you just might get laid.
Now, she finds hair on your bed; Too long to be yours, and too red to be hers (nobody told you to bring home the 800 pound “Rihanna-look-alike” from the club that night. You brought this on yourself!), and she starts throwing a tantrum.
Response: I don’t even know what you talmbout. Tula be bringing these chicks up in the crib and what not…imagine, I slept in the toilet yesterday.
Her: Oh, you know Tula?
Response: Yeah. He hangs out here all the time.
Her: Will you get an autograph for me next time y’all meet?
Response: Yeah sure. Pshhh, girl you tripping. Now come gimme some sugar.
If she still doesn’t believe you cos your lying ass ain’t a convincing homo erectus, she will be heading to your bathroom for further Sherlock Holmes activity. The last girl left her lady shampoo and feminine body lotion in there, and she comes out holding them with a “What the heck is this?” look on her face.
Well, damn nigga, you done messed up.
Sorry bro, can’t help you. You ain’t even a bitch nigga, you just a faggot.
I get the lotion, but Side-chick-shampoo at yo place?
Can’t. Help. You.
Oh yeah, another fad I read on is the case of these insecure bitches waiting till you fall asleep, then taking out your memory card from your phone so they can go through your stuff.
At this point, it’s needless to say that app-lock will not save your ass.
But super glue will. (‾⌣‾)♉
You super glue that memory card to your phone, and never let it out of your sight. You hear me bitch nigga?
Again, you’re welcome.
I’m done saving your ass. I’ll be reporting again next week. Hopefully. I should have a pre-valentine post up. Maybe a gay story on the origin of valentine. Who knows?
See you next week, Mortals.
And Larry Sushey.
Moral Of The Story:
Terdoh cannot write a post without curse words.