This Is The Result Of Self-Imposed Celibacy

The show last night was hella-cool, y'all... check out the archived segment and make sure you're there next week, Okay, cuz we STAY having fun on BTR...

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And now the post:
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All things carnal have been on the forefront of my mind lately... I know I never talk about this shit over here but AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! A girl can only take so much before an entire F-train car of commuters are found stabbed in the throat by my wine key. I'm just sayin...

When I'm grocery shopping, doing laundry, commuting to work, reading a damn book, watching old B&W movies- all of a sudden, everything reminds me of sex.

It also doesn't help that most of the songs in my iTunes library have sexual undertones... what the FUCK, iTunes?! You know my situation... can you just CHILL with that mess already?

I almost even took it a step too far- a "dinner date" with Mr. Baseball, but thank the Lord Jesus Christ Almighty (you like how I bring out the "lord" randomly, knowing full well me n him ain't friends?) that he had a family emergency in SoCal and had to go out of town. Bullet. Dodged. Until he returns to NYC, that is.

Did I mention he plays baseball? And is damn near 40 but has a body that won't stop? Did I mention that? Even though his attitude is ten trillion times STANKER than mine and I SWORE to myself that I'd NEVER speak to him again? No? Well, I'm mentioning it now. Because D-A-M-N his body. won't. quit. And I think it was barely my birthday the last time I saw a real-live penis.

Bare with me, y'all. I think I'm having a hot flash... is it time for menopause already?

And the weather this weekend helped, too; kept my ass indoors where instead of participating in some sober, sweaty monkey sex with some random loser from Bembe, I discovered that those magic eraser sponges are the SHIZNIT!!! Yo- my cabinets have NEVER looked better.

(Ay, yo, Mari- tell Rene's woman que me mande mas de esas esponjitas... I gots LOTS more scrubbing to do!)

But honestly, with lots o' talk of STDs and HIV buzzing around me lately, coupled by the fact that I recently watched Philadelphia AND the episode of 90210 when that young woman speaks to Brenda's health class about how she got AIDS at 16 by having unprotected sex with some Law Student loser, when I even THINK of sleeping with someone, FOR REAL, all I keep thinking is: "Where are your papers? Hand them over... Matter fact, let's have our first date at the clinic, mmkay?"

Besides, call me crazy, but I don't think I want meaningless sex anymore, no more FWBs or swinger party invites or casual hook-ups; I'm just not into it anymore. Unless you're my man it AIN'T gonna happen, and funny thing? I'm not ready for a man.

See the problem here? Yeah, me, too.

So, yeah, I'll be chillin here in the cut for the time being, eating my feelings and keeping myself busy with projects and babies and books and floor scrubbing... just me and my coochie cobwebs... because we all know about idle hands and shit. That's how K got here...

*smooches...wondering if I can break my own record and make it to a year*
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would I get a prize if I go a year? 'Cause I like prizes... and can my prize be a penis?