This Relationship Will Self-Destruct in 21 Days

There's something so refreshing and freeing about finite relationships. No, really.

Just think of it: no worrying about "where this is going" or if this person is "the one." All you have to do, for three weeks, is just sit back and enjoy the ride. Be wined and dined, complimented, entertained, distracted and kissed just right and right when and where you need it.


Then after the three weeks are up, you gracefully bow out, say "Thanks for the memories" and keep it moving.


Readers, I am at the beginning of one such arrangement, and I have to say the excitement of it all is exhilarating. Now don't worry about me- I'll be careful. I always am.


This new "business partner," we'll call him The Dominican Promoter, was introduced to me through a mutual friend, who knew exactly what I was looking for while my girls are gone and I have some free time on my hands.


He's laid back and relaxed, isn't looking for anything serious, and understands that we have a pre-arranged expiration date. What could be better than that?

I can tell he's dying to know why I'm only giving him three weeks, and probably thinks I will get sprung and start calling him during week four to get my fix.

Silly boy! Have you not seen the size of my Pride? or Ego? Lady Estrogen would never allow that in a million years. And that bitch don't play.

Besides, as Jack so elequently put it, I got the bulk of our combined 200-point IQ; he's definitely NOT a keeper.


But don't be surprised if in the coming weeks you see me with a huge Cheshire cat grin on my face. It's just a reaction to the summer "heat."

*smooches...finding new uses for men every day*
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I can't help who I'm is
when they play my shhh
I just love to dance
every time the beat drop
I love to wild out
damn right
shake it all night
Ay that's my jam
every time the beat drop