Dear Ladies, I want you to ask yourself a question I often times ask myself on the shameful walk through an apartment which I hardly recognize on a hung over morning. The man at hand’s name is still new to me and I’ve left him snoring in his sheets. His roommates are awake and have no fucking clue who I am, so I wave awkwardly and put my boots on as quickly as possibly. I tell them to have a nice day and I just know, as I stumble down the building’s steps, one of them is asking the other:

“Wasn’t that their first date?”, chuckle, chuckle, chuckle.

So the question of doom is this, ladies:

Are you really a lady?

I’ll be the first one to rub hot wing sauce on my jeans. I can be as tomboy as they come… can’t break a nail cause I don’t have any to break…so I know that I’m not a stereotypical “lady”. But when it comes down to sex, I’m starting to see that the “Anything Goes” handbook I’ve been using for dating might not exactly be relevant anymore. Read More »