Princess RiRi Ain't Got Shit On These Guys

I wasn’t even going to write tonight but then I remembered all the dumbass shit that has happened thus far, and its only fucking Tuesday. I’m a woman of simple pleasures. I’m looking for a guy that enjoys hanging out, joking around, getting drunk, and having sex. It seems like the guys that come into my life don’t have those priorities in line at all. They’re all nothing but a bunch of fucking princesses with the biggest pussy napkin agenda conceivable. And I’m so beyond over it.

I’d like to take this time to point out that I don’t mean gay men when I talk about princesses. There are some straight guys out there that are way bigger butt pirates than any gay man I’ve ever met. All I mean is that God gave you a penis. So fucking use that shit. If you’re dick isn’t one of your top 3 priorities on a day to day basis then I should hope you’re either going in for reassignment surgery or don’t have one. But I also don’t mean that you’re cool if you’re a fucking douchebag because you have a huge cock. Bids eventually grow up and realize that huge cocks and douchebags don’t have anything else going on and it’s really hard to be someone’s Tuesday girl after you see his Friday girl, especially when you’re not even his Tuesday girl; you’re his girlfriend. This here isn’t a conversation about personality flaws, more so just a what-the-fuck-runs-through-your-head type of post because I’ve been running into serious biddie swag lately from my gentleman callers.

I gave my number to this bartender I met last week when I was out at the New Found Glory show. He seemed super cool, had like a Duck Dynasty thing going on, so fuck it, why not? He wanted me to come out to watch the Pats game last night. I won’t mention the bar because I’m likely to get Hep C and hit on by a Level 3 Sex Offender just by getting out of my car at this place. And to be totally fucking honest, I didn’t really give a shit about the Pats game. I understand that’s anti-American, but seriously, win or lose, I still have to fucking work the next day. Plus it was super shitty and rainy. I just didn’t want to go out. So I lied because I didn’t want him to feel bad, and just said by roommate needed a jump because her car died. He came back with this fucking attitude text (insert OMGZZZ IS THIS AVICII VOICE) “Ok. That’s going to take all night…?”. I don’t know why, but I fucking lost it. A simple “Good luck, no big deal, we’ll hang out this week” would have sufficed. Like fucking seriously bro, you really needed to show me off to your friends at the bar that badly that you copped a fit and haven’t talked to me since? WE HAVEN’T EVEN HUNG OUT ONCE YET. I’m sorry, but you told me earlier that you rented out the bar to watch this game, a game I’d know nothing about because I live under a big female period vagina rock so you spent 10 minutes explaining it to me, but heaven fucking forbid I dip out on you. Complete night ruiner. I ruined this fucktards night even though the Pats won and he was out with a large group of his friends. Makes complete sense. No big deal. So much for thinking we could have a couple beers and get it in a couple times so I could then proceed to tuck you into The Mystery Files of Shelby Woo and Guys I’m Over filing cabinet.

I have a super big problem with internet creeps too. Facebook, twatter, instagram, whatever. You can like, comment, retweet on any of my shit you want because I put it on there PUBLICLY. But there are two things that really irk me. First being, that if you like all of my shit, it’s pretty evident that you want my dick, but either do not hit me up to hang out, or are banking that I take that shit as a compliment. If you want to get in my pants, drive over here and give it a shot, STOP LIKING MY SHIT LIKE AN INTERNET CREEP AND BE A REAL PERSON. I do not take it as a compliment. I run my mouth on the internet to make people laugh. I don’t have an instagram because I’m not photogenic so I don’t understand why me talking about raunchy ass shit and dicks and sex is a turn on for you. You can’t beat your dick to my mouth because it wouldn’t get hard out of pure disgust. Thing number two that bothers me – people that use the internet as the basis of our relationship. I like human contact. I don’t really care for cybering. If you want to hang out, let’s fucking do it. Last time I checked, your facebook comments and instagram likes, aren’t hard, long, or vibrate so frankly, I don’t see what they’re going to do for me. Oh? They’re sweet you say? “U r so beautiful” likelikelikelikefapfapfapfap. Excuse me while I go change my panties; they’ve been soaked out of pure, adorable, ecstasy. I found my Prince Charming. A dream is a wish his drunk ass made at 3AM.

And then of course it boils down to who the fuck these guys end up with. I’ve been told I’m trashy, gross, obnoxious, the whole 9 yards and then the rest of the field. I’ve heard it all. So it seriously amazes me when I see or hear about guys who just found me to be too much that they’re now dating or banging someone else. It’s not even a jealousy thing. It just strikes me that you really thought you picked a winner with this one? I’m talking girls who puke on themselves in nightclubs, girls with baby daddy drama, girls who are straight up crazy ass psycho stalkers. Like biddie-dom in all of its glory. Am I like a 15 in all aspects of life? No, but I’m fucking awesome for the most part. But these dudes chose their own personal dumb ass broad special olympics winners for one reason only. They’re princesses. I don’t hide the fact that I will reference a dick I don’t have metaphorically in regular conversation. I don’t hide the fact that I enjoy having sex. I don’t hide the fact that I eat food. I don’t hide the fact that I probably know more about cars, music, and what would get your ex-girlfriend off. And that crumbles all princess castles. So these guys run the fuck off and try and find the most stereotypical girl – THAT girl. Just to make sure that the girl they’re humping isn’t more of a princess than they are. But you know what? I fucking love it. Because at the end of the day, I have the vagina. I make the rules. I don’t give a shit if you don’t like it or not.

Most girls are looking for this “perfect” guy, like the kind of guy on those stupid shared pictures on facebook with Drake in the background and stupid romantic quotes. HE DOESN’T EXIST. Now that we’ve cleared that topic, guys…please stop trying to pretend to be that guy. It’s not sexy. It’s not helping your case. Instead of making me feel special, I just feel annoyed, creeped out, or a little weirded out that a guy I potentially wanted to hook up with plucks his eye brows more than I do. Just be you. I can make my own money, cook my own dinner, and sleep without you laying on top of me and saying “are you comfortable baby?” every 30 seconds. (And no, baby, I would be more comfortable sleeping on a pile of rusty nails in Vietnam while a wild tiger tenderizes my leg with his vicious jaws). However, even though I can fuck myself and make myself laugh, sometimes I like someone else to do that for me. And that’s really all I’m looking for at the end of the day.

*8/10 guys don’t actually do these things because they believe girls appreciate them. They actually just enjoy doing this shit because they’re actually raging rainbow lickers and think they’re cute.