So it’s a cloudy, rainy day in the DMV, I woke up this morning wanting a yummy breakfast snack, some hot tea and maybe a shower…… maybe (depending on how strong my lazy game is, something about a rainy Sunday makes a clean body seem unncessary…) So anyhoo, I’m minding my bitness, as usual, and I wake up to 3 text messages from 3 different fellas…. all wanting to know what I’m doing today. Translation: “hey girl, it’s raining, can I come over and hit it?” Come on man!!  I often wonder if even men get tired of their own b.s. but I’m guessing no. Yes it’s a rainy Sunday, the conditions are perfect for a day of snacks and humping but for some odd reason the thought of some random, horny (and likely hungry cat expecting me to cook for him) is the last thing I wanna entertain.

I wanna lay in my bed, watch ‘Lifetime’ or the ‘Girlfriends’ marathon on Centric, maybe wash some clothes, maybe wash my ass, eat some snacks and fiddle around on facebook all day. See how none of that included a peen??? Sirs keep your sometimesy peen and your ill intentions and gift that ish to some other broad who may be interested. 

BUZZ OFF!!!!!

So I thought I’d take some time to discuss the ‘one and done’ dater, ya know, the dude that takes you out to someplace fairly fancy, ya’ll have a good time and all that successful first date stuff and you kinda look forward to seeing ole boy again, and it just so happens that ole boy can’t wait to see you as well, well he can’t wait to see your vagicat that is. See the ‘one and done’ dater is just that, a one and doner, this bamma ain’t looking forward to date #2, he done spent all the money he’s gonna spend on your bugee arse (hee hee!) In his mind he already paid for the vagi-cookie so the next time he sees you he fully expects you to be face down, ass up, why? cause that’s the way he likes to f*ck! Today I got a text from a ‘one and doner’ that went something like this:

One and Doner: “hey, good morning”

Pipes: “mornin!” 

One and Doner: “Had a great time last Saturday, what’s up this Sat? are you free?”

Pipes: “Yeah, Sat should be fine, are we going back to the place with the yummy martini’s? ”

One and Doner: *insert 2 hours before replying* ”Maybe”

Pipes: *insert no response at all*

One and Doner: “hello, you there? ok yeah we can go back there”

So I suspect One and Doner picked up on the fact that I required more dating before any vagicat viewing goes down so he changed his response, too late, I’m already turned off because he didn’t have the decency to fake it a little longer. “Maybe” meant “nah son, I took you out already, you buggin!” I’ve come across many many many one and doners in my lifetime, I know how they roll. Here’s the thing, I know most men wanna party in the pannies, on the first night preferably if they had a say but sir surely you don’t believe that a delicious sushi snack and a few drinks should afford you an invitation inside me??? Oh well Mr. One and Doner, perhaps we’ll meet agian, until then, lose my #!

Shame too, it’s not like I play hard to get or anything, in fact I’m pretty easy to get, but I don’t play when it comes to outtings and the purchase of snacks and spirits, I give good love *miss you Whitney * it’s the least a bamma can do……

So….. I wonder about this as I always hear women say stuff like “I don’t care nuffin about height as long as a guy is nice to me” blah blah blah but funny thing is, I hardly ever see tall women linked up with shorties, I see it sometimes sure, but it is definitely rare. Today a really handsome gent starting flirting with me as we waited side by side for a traffic light to change and huntee let me tell you….. HE WAS PHIZZINE!!!! You know all seated in his vehicle, tucked in his seat, responsibly secured by his seat belt, I mean skrait fine! I think I even felt a lil tingle in my sessy place if you get my drift. So suffice it to say I did not hesitate when he licked his lips and mouthed “pull over”….. sheeiiiitttt, you ain’t gotta tell Pipes twice!

So I pull over, he pulls behind me and I wait and watch as he gets out of his vehicle and instantly my lady peen goes flaccid……. I was devastated, sure his face was a work of art but where was the rest of him? Who stole the rest of his legs??? Why does God hate me so much??? These are the questions that went swirling through my head in the seconds it took for him to get out of his car and walk over to mine. I hid my disappointment and went through the exchanging #’s process without a hitch but as I pulled off I knew I was no longer interested in lil man. Then I started cursing myself out….. “that’s why you single now you loser”, “bishes like you are never gonna get a dude, now you need a man who doesn’t have to climb you? when will the stupid requirements end?”.… I really asked myself these questions. I mean, he could be my guy right? For clarity let me say I’m not talking about a few inches here, I’m 5’7 and shorty doo wop was like 4’11 or some shit, that is a clinical midget no???

I mean I have been in a relationship or two or 45 in the past where my man possessed a deficit in height (or his legs stopped growing) pick whatever you want, and I guess after a while I stopped caring but it does always make me feel like security detail when I have to bend my knees to smooch my boo or whisper something in his ear, that doesn’t exactly make me feel moist in the vagicat area, ya know what I mean?

*Sigh* so do I need to get over it? I mean as the people say “we all the same height in the bed”…… right?????

*Sigh* ok so we all have an online alias, I get that, back in my blackplanet.com days mine was ‘honeysuckle’ just honeysuckle, not ‘honeysuckle_69′, not honeysuckle_putitinmybuttallday’, just ‘honeysuckle’. I was always both proud of that and slightly embarassed. Embarassed because it meant I was probably one of the first 10 people to set up a profile on that joint. Blackplanet was a source of a lot of misery and relationship woe, good lawd it was horrific, but that is for another post (though I did almost shed a tear the day I deleted honeysuckle). This post is about all online names that contain any version of the word ‘thick’ in its handle….. I HATE IT!!! HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE IT!

Here’s why, most of the ladies who use the word ‘thick’ in their online handle are well, not so much thick but closer to the ‘fat’ end of the scale. Now don’t get me wrong, being fluffly is fine but I just don’t understand the desire to make sure we hone in on your thick by clarifying this in your alias, won’t we be able to see it in your pics? As I get older I just seek understanding, so this message goes out to all of the following interweb thickies and what not:

Thick_ecstacy

Thickandtasty

Thickathanasnicka

Thickthanamafugga

Thicknjuicyshrimpngrits

I’mthickisyou?

Thicktothecore

Thickninjaturtle

Thickmafia

ThickhousewifeofBuffalo

Thickmeat

Thick_thunder

Thickasallgetout

Thicknwetpannies

We get it, YOU ARE THICK! You is also kind, you is smart and you is important… do any of your other attributes matter? 

*Sigh* I have come to realize that really really really bad things happen with some men when they come into a lil wealth. I have known a certain man for many years, he’s always been fun, respectful and just overall a really swell dude. We didn’t end up a couple but that’s ok, you don’t always have to be in the love zone to enjoy having someone in your life. We have shared a ‘grown up’ activity here and there, some fun, some food (cause Pipes don’t play that) and some major laughs. So the other night I’m driving home from work and I get a texas message:

Dude X: Hey girl, what chu doing? meet me at so n so bar, let’s do some drinks

Pipes: cool! see you in a little while 

So I gets there, all cute n sessified and smelling yummy like spanish whore like I do and he hugs me and greets me like a normal human being, orders me my fav drink (a french martini) and then things take a turn towards horror. He leans in and whispers “yeah finish that drink so I can fug the chit outta you” SIR EXCUSE ME???” oK now I guess I should note that I’m not a shy, clutch my pearls kinda chick, not even close, but even a loosey goosey chick like me has lines. 

So ok, I usually allow everyone one infraction, he coulda been confused by my beauty or some shit right? Hey I can understand that….. well big mistake, he then leans in again and says “open your legs” (I had on a skirt) *another blank stare*. He had me straight trippin boo! and not in a Steve Martin/King Latifah kinda way, but more in a “is this ninja finna fingerpop me at the bar??….. while I’m acutally sitting at the bar?????” …… yeeeeaaaaa, I think that was def the plan.

But here’s the really disheartening thing, years ago when I first met him he was just the sweetest, most considerate, most kind man ever. Over the years he’s acquired some things, moved up in his career, makes goobs and gobs of money and loves to tell anyone who will listen that he’s rich. Money has ruined this once awesome guy, he is now 100% USDA Asshole, I doubt the old him will ever return. When he was making average money he was the best but now his climb up the tax bracket ladder has completely turned him into the most unsavory character.

So needless to say after I rejected his demand to be fingerpopped at the bar he proceeded to go on a tirade about how all the bishes in the bar wanna get at him and I’m crazy to not have my ass bent over giving him the public bitness blah blah blah. So I knew I had to leave…… but not before I fiinished my drink and ordered me some food to go, Piper’s mama is a fool but she ain’t raise one, sheeeiiitttt

Then I get a another texas message while I’m driving home:

Dude X: I’m sorry, I think I might have gone too far, I miss you….

HA!!! Son?! you think???? 

I mean SERIOUSLY?

ExRated, a new website that allows people to review their exes, aspires to be a Yelp for former flames.

Users can both vet their prospects and vent about old lovers: see what past partners have to say about your upcoming date by searching for his or her name on the site, or leave a rating of your ex, along with any tips for the next guy or gal.

“You wouldn’t go to a restaurant that hasn’t been reviewed. Especially in the era of Internet dating, why would you go on a date with a person who hasn’t been reviewed?” said ExRated founder Tom Padazana, who said the site’s motto is “forewarned is forearmed.” “I hope this will be a research tool to help people make more educated decisions in dating,” he added. “And as the site grows, I think hopefully it will make people better dates because the possibility of being reviewed is out there.”Source

Ok first of all, no asshole worth his asshole salt, would give 2 shits about being ‘rated negatively’.  If they cared about that, wouldn’t old fashioned “word of mouth” keep them in check? And if it’s criminal behavior you’re concerned with, do a background check on bama. Or watch how his own mother tucks her purse away in the cupboard when you guys come over for Sunday Dinner at Big Momma’s house.

Secondly, what woman do YOU know, when presented with a list of shady details a MILE long: “Girllll, I caught him in my closet,  mastering his own domain, while wearing a Cat Woman outfit. And if that’s not the worst of it, you know he ‘cleaned himself up’ with my GOOD TOWEL?!”  You KNOW how I feel abouts my good towels! Would say “You’re right, Rah Digga!  I’mma stop dating him!”  Yea that’s not going to happen. Women always think two things: 1) I’m different 2) He can change. Let them broads replenish their good towels on their own.

Thirdly…if the review is A Glowing recommendation, what asswipe would be giving out kudo sammitches to someone who likely dumped THEM?

Fourthly (I’m on a roll here just go with it), isn’t the horrific joy of dating finding out exactly what kind of troll is hiding under that ‘great guy’ exterior? Maybe just maybe the troll of your dreams. Why must the interweb ruin, EVERYTHING?

Ok so here’s the thing, anyone who truly knows me knows the keys to my heart, #1 some super premium exotical hair cut from the head of a woman of latin descent and #2 a good ass, quality piece of steak. I’m not hard to please as you can see. But recently a gentlemen who is anti- meat has been sniffing around me hardcore. Like he wants me bad! Ok cool, not a problem, or maybe there is a problem. I lubs my meats and well he has a problem with that. I refuse to listen to lectures and commentary about the evils of my meat eating ways and how steak is infused with demons and poison…. whatever sir! So I’m not gonna bend and clearly neither is my Broccoli Bob so I guess I wonder if we should just quit while we’re ahead??

He already uses the fact that he is a vegan as a reason to not go out on dining dates and um NO SIR!! who dates without dining???? And apparently if we do go anywhere that involves a meal he has to do extensive research to ensure there is absolutely no animal usage…… tag me out! Still, he insists that we can make this work, however I strongly disagree, who’s right?

There are a billion lady vegan warriors out there that I’m sure would be a way better match for this lad, me thinks he should find one……..

So I had a great weekend, went to my hometown of Puerto Rico (The Bronx) and kicked it with my best buds and what not. Saturday night found me at a function in which I witnessed men that I know personally work the room in hopes of finding ladyfolk to hump on. Some of these men are not necessarily single but still on a ferocious prowl for punanny. Now I get that men are supposed to be dogs blah blah blah (not on the bitter train so I don’t believe this applies to all men at all)  but what I don’t get, seriously don’t get, is committing to a woman and then using your time away from said woman to hunt other women like it’s a sport. We all have free will, no one had to commit to another human being, there are no guns to anyone’s head. I am not confused about the whys of this kind of thing nor am I asking the long standing question “Why do men cheat?”, that question and the answers that usually follow bore the absolute hell outta me. I guess I just wanna understand why we commit to people and things knowing we really aren’t going to honor that commitment at all. 

There will always be a woman with a fatter ass, nicer teeth, a flatter stomach, the list can go on and on so I guess I just wanna know why a man can’t simply just acknowledge the beauty of a another woman and leave it there?? like seriously, why come? Like why does a man’s down time have to be spent drawing up a “Imma cheat on my lady blueprint”, I just don’t get it, at all. What is so difficult about remaining single until you can do the one lady thang? I won’t even get into the fact that most of these men are as undesirable as undesirable gets…. about 10 good, strong teeth (because apparently teeth are optional), “Rocko Paco” CVS brand cologne, confusing fashion choices. I guess men that you would look at and think they are probably happy to have found love, no such luck! 

Observations like these pretty much solidify that I will remain single for a good while longer, seems absolutely no one is ever satisfied with what THEY chose. Always looking for more or something better, and since I’m not in the business of policing a man when he walks out the door, why torture myself wondering if he’s still looking to upgrade me? nah I’m good………… 

*Sigh*

So after a pretty quiet weekend, one in which I felt like just checking out completely (minus a quick trip up the road to dine with my lil sister for her birthday) I find myself in heavy thought about a convo I overheard in the grocery store this evening. As I’m strolling down the ice cream aisle,not minding my business as always and having those internal convos with myself “you don’t need no ice cream thickums”, “ah damn but they got the pistachio”, “yeah chunks just keep it moving”…. ya know, those kinda convos, I overhear a woman in the same aisle with me on her cell phone say to the party on the other end “I mean yeah, she looked ok, definitely not skinny, she’s picked up some weight but she looked ok I guess”…….. OH HAILS NO!!!! Ok now I know what you’re thinking, you might be thinking that hearing this made me change my mind about the ice cream (it did not, I’m eating it now ) but what it did do was make me kinda disgusted for the young lady they were talking about. First, I’ve always been realistic about ‘girlfriend’ relationships, it might be a woman thing maybe but it’s a simple fact of life that girls that are part of a crew, in general talk smack about one another. Not hateful things, just general chit talking about who and why one friend is dating this one, or why one friend wore this, or why one friend wears this weave or that wig….. you get the point, it’s unrealistic to think that just cause someone is your friend they won’t talk about you, cause it happens all the time and it’s never not gonna happen. That being said, I don’t waste time sitting around thinking about what my friends say about me behind my back, mostly because I’m at a point in my life where I am very clear on who I am, this is it, you like it, you love it or you take a hike! 

Still, can’t quite shake the slight feeling of disgust upon overhearing this conversation ………… ” I mean she looked ok but definitely not skinny”, that might be what’s tying my thong in a knot, the “definitely not skinny” part. When did ‘skinny’ become the marker for how good or bad a person looks??? Maybe it offended me cause I’m not skinny but I look pretty damn good, I do many things that a lot of skinny women I know refuse to do, I pay attention to what I put inside my body and yet still, I am not skinny. But here’s the really interesting thing, I have no desire to be, like ever but overhearing this girlfriend chit talking made me wonder if that is a convo my girls are having about me behind my back. Like are they like ” Whoo wee, did you see Piper’s ass the other night, when do you think she’s gonna get that thing down to a manageable size?” ………. I don’t know, and like I said, can’t waste too much time caring cause I don’t believe this kinda thing means your girls aren’t your girls, but it definitely warrants a most serious side eye…..

So when you get to be my age and still single people love to say chit like “hmmm, something must be wrong with you” or “you must be crazy” cause well you know, I’m so pretty hot and tempting that they simply can’t fathom why I would be single.  So I’d be lying if I said this chitter chatter about the state of my spinsterhood didn’t sometimes get me down…… it most definitely gets me to thinking.

Am I the reason why I’m single? Am I overlooking really great dudes for silly reasons like preferring a man with one stomach (doesn’t have to be a flat stomach but I would like it if it were just one), could it be that I kinda like a dude with ‘edge’, the kinda man that will be like “baby your weave is twisted son, fix that chit!” then throw me up against a wall and do me good! Could the fact that I don’t do well with constant sucky face and a consistent tongue shoved down my throat be the reason why I’m single? I mean I do love kissing and being affectionate but not all the damn time, geesh, all that touchy feely stuff gets to be too much, can’t even tell the difference between my farts and yours after a while you so far up my arse. Geesh! So yeah, I basically start to wonder if I’m crappin on the nice guy for the not so nice one and if I am then my trifling ass deserves to be single right?

Ok so with that philosophy in mind I say “ok ok, let’s see what’s up with the funny looking dude” the one that’s not necessarily ugly, just funny looking, a little tart in the grill if you will, the reliable dude, the one you can count on, the one that will bring you lunch to your job when you have a serious craving for some general tso’s chicken (Two soo’s as it was pronounced on a recent date, ugh!) but only have happy meal funds, the one that can fix chit in your condo and does so with a coke and a smile, the one that dresses a lil funny, you know wears mom jeans n chit, the swagless dude (although swag is not top on my list since I’m pretty corny myself). So you go “eff it!” because really where is Mr. Swag when you truly need him? I”ll tell you where, somewhere spittin top notch holla game at skrippas as they finish their shifts. The bottom line is Mr. Swag is not checking for you the way Mr. Unswag is so you clearly start to see the choice as a no brainer, Mr. Unswag wins!

So after several months of dating Mr. Unswag you start to notice that he’s not calling like he used to, he’s not catering to your every whim anymore, your calls actually go to voicemail and are no longer being answered on the first ring…… WTF IS HAPPENING!!!  I’ll tell you what’s happening, the corny dude, the one who was wearing ‘soccer mom’ jeans when ya’ll first met, this same dude has gone off and  acquired some muthajumpin swag along the way while you were sittin pretty thinking “yeah I got this one the bag” HA!!! jokes on you Paco! Now it seems some other honey a little less chubby than your swole ass is now giving him fever and BAM! guess what?? You are not the apple of his eye anymore, you are now just another chick in Mr. Unswag’s rotation.

So the moral of the story you ask??? Don’t settle, hold out for the man/woman you really want cause compromising will find you right back at square one wondering how the tables have turned on you that you are now sweating a super wack, super swagless man with 5 stomachs, 2 chins and 40DDD breasts……..

“So, do you have a Facebook account?” Says the guy who a month before contacted me on Facebook to get my new cellphone number. 

When I pause, confused, he says “No… no.. I mean are we friends on Facebook?” Am I supposed to believe that he did not remember sending me a friend request…and after I accepted he did not troll through my photos before deciding to make this 5 year since the last time I saw you booty call?  “Yea, you should come visit me.  Do you have a man?”

“Yes…Yes. I TOTALLY have a man!”  I respond, hoping that wraps this awkward odd, 5 years too damn late, conversation up…nope.

“You should sneak down here and visit me.”

” I don’t lie and I don’t sneak.”

Ignoring my pesky ethics. “Yea ,yea…I’ll send you a ticket. We’re Facebook Friends right?  Let me check out your recent pics.”

So, let me get this shit straight.  Not only are you willing to send me a ticket (you possibly cannot think that I’m visiting you on my dime) for a trip that I have said I DO NOT WANT  but you want me to really  believe you haven’t already scoped that I have not had some disfiguring accident before you made said offer?  Are men really THAT HORNY?!? 

 And let’s say just for one second that you did NOT scope me out prior to making this call.  Am I supposed to be flattered that you were driving along (likely with a semi stiffie) thinking… ‘you know who gave good poont FIVE YEARS AGO?? Yea… I’mma call her up… I wonder if we’re Facebook friends.”

I hate you and you’re stupid. FML.

So I like to consider myself a “lady of the night” (no , not that kinda lady) but literally a lady that likes to go out at night. So with that being said I don’t shy away from the innawebs when it comes to meeting a new gentleman caller if you will. After several weeks of conversing with this fella we finally decided we would take our thing to the next level and meet in person. We chose a Friday night and decided we would make our meeting place convenient for both parties. As Friday got closer we decided via text message that we would meet at the nearest Border’s bookstore and he says “oh great, that’s a great idea! I love Border’s!” Uh ok dude, calm down, are you gonna hump the books??? Right here I shoulda known things were gonna go downhill fast.

So we meet, he’s aight looking, didn’t give my vaginal regions a new heartbeat or anything but I can stomach an evening with him, no problem! So we get to gabbin and after 2 mins I realize this fool ain’t taumbout nothin but he keeps trying to find cozy corners for us to chat in. It then begins to come clear to me that this is it, this is our date. Now I should say that I thought Border’s was our meeting spot and then we would be going on a real date, ya know to someplace with a table, a menu and someone very interested in bringing food items to our table. Well he musta been reading my mind cause he says “hey you ready to go, let’s find someplace to continue this” Now I finally start to feel heartbeats down below, food always makes my heart beat down there…..

Well not so fast…….. he tells me to get in my car and follow him, I’m already ordering my medium-well steak and french martini in my head, then things go from worse to worsererererer…….. he pulls over in front of an electronic store in the mall, parks and starts to get out. “Maybe he needs to adjust his man parts”I’m thinking in my head, were not really stopping here are we? I see no place to eat here? Maybe were walking to the restaurant doing a “pre meal calorie burn”. Then he starts motioning for me to turn my car off and get out. My vaginal regions are now flat lining, they’re on life support, this fool wants to have an enchanted evening in the parking lot!!!!

I quit that bitch, got in my car and texased a chubby fella I know who’s always down for a Friday night snack…….