Fresh Horses

If at first you don’t succeed …


… try, try again.

A few guys on plurk were suggesting the male bashing is unwarranted. Any casual reader of my lil blog will notice my bashing is well-earned. And that I’m constantly hopping back in the saddle. What was that about the definition of stupidity? Well, yeah, I’ve had bad luck. I get over it. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I decided I needed a new dress. While there, innocently scoping out the options, I happened to notice someone. Bald. Tough. Thick. Bad boy. That always leaves me weak-kneed and blurting out things like, “ohai, can I has friendship, ignore the man-hating profile, I’m single, mmmmm bald, I’m really nice, are you single, oooo strong thighs, I’m usually not so forward, you know, men never IM me, oooohhhhh bald, I can build you a house, call me?”

I don’t hate men. I’m a daddy’s girl to the core. Mine would clean shotguns when boys came to pick me up. Wouldn’t let me go to the door if my date honked from the driveway. He set the bar high and raised me to believe I was worthy of someone decent, someone who would treat me right.

My male bashing is a way to laugh about unfortunate situations. I get disappointed. I’m quick to mock men who forget that even in our virtual world manners and honesty top the list of turn ons. And I’m just as quick to give a chance to someone new. No, I don’t have a date with Mr. DayumYouSo CanHaveMe. I really am shy. A little geeky. Rarely approached. And in the moment content with hope.


Credits: Truth Samantha, Belleza Jesse Deep Tan, Miamai Melody dress, Maitreya shoes, EarthStones Mara hoops, Candy Nails, Poetic eyes, LAP Jazz Hands pose.


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