A tale of fresh bangs, chicken wings and ass…
So here’s a little story all about how I was a sassy little bish who thought she was fly and ended up having to eat ass.
Not your conventional starter for 10 I know, but it’s Sunday, I’m overly tired, pretty hungover, and also half a bottle of vin rouge down.
So it started with a poncho and some freshly cut bangs. The setting was a Mexican themed surprise party – a small gathering but one that harboured two previous flings of mine. One since long retired (but that’s a story for another time) and one that ended around 5 months previously. Suffice to say I had to look pretty damn succulent at this gathering – or else so help me Lord.
By some grace of the divine I did actually look hella fly – I was wearing a form-enhancing black jumpsuit and I’d got some new bangs. For those of you who aren’t yet au fait with the americanisms that are so mercilessly seeping their way into the Queens – bangs means fringe. So basically I got a fringe cut, and the D came a knocking.
Some background intel – this most recent fling of mine is somewhat of an Adonis, but also a notoriously elusive character with a revolving door of girls, with or without bangs, that frequent his sleeping quarters (ok let’s not get carried away, he lives in a two bed semi on the outskirts of town). During our extremely brief and ill-fated tryst earlier in the year, there were next to zero comms after each rendezvous, and a lot of despacito actions on my side.
Anyway by this point I’d regrouped and re configured, this Adonis was just a douche who’d actually lucked out by bedding me and just didn’t know what to do with it. That’s the official party line and we’re sticking to it, just ask ma gals.
So as the night unfurled it appeared that I actually held some sway in the arena – the bangs had stirred some forgotten pleasures and I was firmly back on the map. And this is where the games began.
I played it as cool as the coolest cucumbre and pretended like I hadn’t already known I was going to turn up and ruin lives that night. I gave that boy no second glances, I purposefully swerved direct conversation, avoided the frisson of accidental contact and conditioned my mind to not look for him in every corner of the room. It worked. I’d captured my very own little pet for the night; he gave me every second, third and fourth glance he had. He searched for my response in group conversations, positioned himself next to me at every turn, and dutifully lingered wherever I was.
You see the thing about boys is, no matter what the age, if you ignore them – they fucking love you. I’ve never been good at this, but my new bangs gave me some extra special powers that night and I thought I was winning at every turn. Non too surprisingly I decided that I’d ride out being a hard to get chica for a while and then I’d willingly go home and get some carpet burns and a possible urinary tract infection – I am only a mere human after all and he did buy my 2am salt and pepper chicken wings.
Ok so I didn’t ruin lives. But I did get a tongue in my ass, which is all anyone can really hope for in 2017. On the not-so-flip-side I had to put my tongue is his ass. But again, this is 2017, so you take the wins with the losses. I mention this because it still baffles me how someone so outwardly LADDISH can so desperately beg for a tongue in the rectum – and yet pretend like he’s never seen my sweet innocent face before at the next social occasion. Which is exactly what happened.
I mean someone call Kris Jenner, because this really is a case for the FBI.
And herein lies the crux of the piece – I officially know only three facts about men;
- The more you treat them like a piece of shit the more they want you.
- They all want something in their ass.
- No matter how good your bangs look, they still don’t want you to try and chat to them on Snapchat the next day.
This will come as a surprise to absolutely zero people reading this piece, but I wish I hadn’t wasted my good bangs on this disrespectful buffoon with great hair but zero prospects – financially and morally. And I didn’t even eat the damn chicken wings.
*this is terrible advice – be smarter than me and only do the first part.
*#bangsgetbanged
