Bleu Balls

This is the most difficult part of my new life is lack of "hits". "Buns", "skins", "tail", or as my blog title suggests "clams", were a pretty regular part of my daily routine. I don't know one broad in this city. The ones I meet are directly linked back to my job, which is a bad thing if you didn't know.

The crazy thing about the clams I left is that I get inundated with e-mails daily talking about how much they miss me. Miss me? Really? When I told y'all I was leaving, you acted like you had forever to hook up with me. No sense of urgency whatsoever. Now, were both assed out. Oh well.

I had a "special friend" come see me this weekend. This friend (I'll call her Dee), who I've hooked up with a million times before, has a new cat in her life. I knew this and wanted her to come anyway. Why in the hell did I want her to come? Because I wanted some good company and the possibility(the very likely probability) to spread some alfredo on the clam.

Maaaaaaaan, can I tell you that nothing jumped off. Not a damn thing. No hand, no mouth, nothing. She was sooooo caught up with this new cat that I barely got a hug. WTF? I remained a gentleman throughout. I didn't pout or act out despite a serious case of the bleus. Dee, how in the hell are you going to walk around a red blooded man with tight shirts on showing off the most beautiful set of kegs in America and expect him to be cool? You know my access is limited out here in the hinterland. You could have just stayed in the big city with that new cat if you weren't going to hook me up!!!

The most effed up thing about this whole situation is that I'm at the mercy of these bumpkin-assed broads from the boonies. Understand me, I don't want pity, I just want you to relate to the story. You can only do so much for yourself (feel me?). The Club here is not the Club in the big city. No casual hook ups because everybody knows everybody, especially in the incredibly small black community.

Every woman I know from Detroit that reads this should understand this statement: If you come to my house to spend the weekend, expect to get boned. The longer I stay here, the less patience I have with female "friends". And mind you, it's only been a month and a half, so take heed.

Still Tru Bleu,
KZ