knowing is half the battle…

in our continuous quest to quench your insatiable thirst for manformation, we’ve once again pointed that new knowledge firehose in your direction…we’ve devised today’s post to let you know exactly where you stand on this totem pole of love…er lust…er male-female interaction…the worst thing that can happen is that you misunderstand your location and start acting as if you have girl scout badges that you have yet to ascertain…so here is a cheat sheet to help you figure out how we probably should be interacting and whether or not you should be waiting for something more…

the jump off – this first phase is one that we actually suggest you skip if you have any desire to ever reach real relationship status…it will probably be fun for both parties…and by both parties i mean me and my desire to have unattached cinemax sessions…

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homies > homiettes

You already knew this so it isn’t breaking news but homies are greater than homiettes. It is simple math. You didn’t even have to cheat your way through calculus to understand this.

(Note: Not to confuse anyone. I’m not saying there are more potential homies than homiettes out there. There aren’t as I looked once.)

Assuming you are still reading, you are most likely asking yourself “why is this?” So I’m here with my top ten reasons why a homie > homiette.

Well first let’s clarify what a homiette actually is. A homiette (also referred to as a homie in some cases) is a homie minus the penis plus breasts (usually small – don’t ask why as I didn’t make up the rules). A homiette is not wifey, girlfriend, jump-off, friend with benefits, or any other name you give that friend you speak to with your best body language horizontally between Egypt’s finest 1000 counts.

Now on to the list: Read more of this post

mama let me upgrade you…

yeah, so we’ve been talking for some weeks…months…let’s just say some time…and now you’re trying to figure out where this is going…we seem to “click” but for some reason, you haven’t been able to transition from “this chick i’m kinda talking to” to the “one”…when asked about it, i garrulously plead the fifth (i say a bunch of ish that doesn’t really make sense which essentially equates to saying nothing at all)…which leaves you diagnosing me with the apt but oft overused commitment phobic condition…but my fear of commitment is only partially to blame…i’m actually not afraid of commitment at all…i’m afraid to commit to you…and i have a bigger fear of telling you the truth…the whole truth…because, quite frankly, i don’t think you can handle it…but if i didn’t, this post would only contain this paragraph and my agent told me that wasn’t good enough so…

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