the art of telling a fine man to f*@k off!

                 can't say that i'd be able to say it to this one... but i'd try really hard. really... really... hard. heehee. | image: wikicommons

                 can't say that i'd be able to say it to this one... but i'd try really hard. really... really... hard. heehee. | image: wikicommons

how to tell a fine man* to fuck off... step one: mean it. step two: say it. the end. seriously. that's it. forgive me if you were expecting more, say, like a comprehensive treatise on exactly what to say. how to say it. and what he might say. but. this is all i've got. it's what i did. and it works!

which is something that i've only recently had the pleasure of learning/experiencing. because for much of my life, i tended to be that chick. you know, the one accepting breadcrumbs and bullshit, calling it cake from a slew of fine ass men. i swear, all he had to do is give me that ryan gosling 'hey girl' look and i'd buy his ass the shoes to wear and walk (comfortably) all over me. yeah. that chick.

fortunately for me (less so for all you fine motherfuckers out there), i've discovered something that we'll call uhh... "self-worth." and in doing so, babygirl is standing up for herself. willing to walk the fuck away from anyone who ain't coming correctly. so, when these clowns (fine ass clowns, lawdhamercy) show up trying to serve anything less than what i know i'm worth, i have no problem telling them to fuck off.

and i must be handling my biz, as the universe has been testing me left and right these days... sending all kinds of fine ass pop quizzes my way. i'm proud to report that i've had no problem letting these mofos go as soon as i see what they're about. or aren't. on some wax on/wax off type ish. because for real, many of these fine fuckers are nothing but eye candy. ain't shit behind those pretty ass eyes but a soulless abyss. am i generalizing? stereotyping? you bet your ass i am. and speaking from experience: several decades of dealing with pretty motherfuckers who ain't about shit. (more on this topic coming soon.)

so imagine my surprise when my most recent fine man showed up. chile... lemme tell you! this mofo had all the bells and whistles of the man i might have called my half of two. you do the math. yeah. he was like that. and i may be dead wrong for this, but i can admit that he initially caught my eye because he happens to possess one of the hottest surfer bodies i've ever had the pleasure of viewing. i know... i know, i said no more surfers! but dang. something about that neck/shoulder line... gawd!

his fine ass seemed to be different. you see, he possessed this energy that i found myself unavoidably and immediately drawn to. so much more than his appearance. moth. to. muh'fuggin. flame. for reals. on top of that, this dude is intelligent. well-spoken. traveled. accomplished. communicative. spiritual. health-conscious. athletic. even expressed his availability... yes, this man exists!

and. we connected. on a soul level. within moments of meeting. oh so much in common. no awkward pauses - even while discussing deeply intimate details of our lives. being in his presence felt like fresh picked mint. natural. refreshing. and when i say we connected... we! which is why i was all kinds of ready to forget all that i'd said about surfers.

luckily, something in my spirit told me to be cool with this dude. to do things differently. take it slow. so i did... chose not to spend the night with him, despite him leaving the next day without a known return. communicated my ass off with him. spoke my needs and wants clearly, without fear that he would run off somewhere - unlike most fine mofos i'd come across in the past.

and ya know... he stood up and owned his shit. expressed what he wanted from me and what he was willing to give. every. fucking. time. responded so eloquently (did i mention that he's a journalist?! oh. yeah. that too), with so much humility, so much reverence... he had me open. i mean o.p.e.n. like a 7-11 in vegas!

but then. there is this thing called truth... which bubbled to the surface as we got to know one another better. somewhere in there, we began discussing sex. tantra, specifically. of course, he's into it. of course he is!!! which, i'm not gonna lie was intriguing. and i do believe that having healthy conversations about sex is an important aspect of relationship building. and... the man can touch his nose with his tongue. no bullshit.

but then... sex became all he wanted to talk about. and because we live in different countries, without knowing when we'd see each other again (and experience said sex), i acquiesced. for a hot minute... but that shit got boring - fast. and in the spirit of open communication, i told him so.

could this fine motherfucker back his shit up to that first night we met and connect with me on the spiritual level that gave us both reason to pause? or that he said he wanted? nope. that one-trick pony appeared to have nothing more to offer than penis. (and that tongue...) which made me reflect on past experiences, when i'd felt that sex was all i had... oof. (more on this topic soon.) i digress.

all the bullshit he spoke in the beginning, was apparently just that: bullshit. talked a good game, but then bam! penis! all day. every day. as if i don't get offered that shit enough. as if half the fucking population ain't also walking around with one. as if that's enough on which to build a new relationship. from a distance, no doubt!

nah brah. it's not. you see, this woman knows her worth. this woman ain't that chick. this woman ain't interested in someone who feels the need to feign interest in a relationship in order to score, no matter how fucking good he looks. or how long his tongue is, fwiw. this woman ain't about the bullshit, which is why when i told his sexy ass to kick rocks barefoot (in so many words), i fucking meant it. 

and for reals. if he would have come at me in pure honesty from the very beginning and revealed what he really wanted from me, we may have been able to connect on a purely physical level - safely, of course... i do consider myself a woman in full control of my sexuality, choosing not to conform to societal norms of when, how, and with whom i connect. so i'm not above sharing a beautiful sexual experience(s) with another soul and then moving right along...

but that must be communicated off the break. truth be told. let me decide whether to proceed from a fully informed position. or prepare to fuck off, you fine motherfucker, you.

fine man not required. this will work on most anyone. male. female. fine. not fine... anyone in need of a proper 'fuck off!'