The ball has been placed firmly in my court now. The other party has taken on an air of injured neutrality tinged with a hint of disdain. It was my party after all. I hate when this happens because I particularly suck at basketball. My form of confrontation doesn’t lend itself to this type of “team sport”. Yeah, I kid you not, I was told that; males and their damn sports anyway. There is no I or me in team so I need to quit being selfish and think about him.

I should clarify that I’m supposed to absorb this information by osmosis. Run around with my hands in the air wicking it up with the oxygen molecules. Instead I blunder about like a chicken with its head chopped off and a tendency toward making the situation worse, i.e. did I mention I’m confrontational? Yeah, probably won’t be the last time you hear it from me either. I get beat over the head with that one a lot. I’ve even stopped flinching or throwing my arm up to ward off the blow. I finally figured out that 99% of the time I’m being poked at. Meh. I get tired of the “I shouldn’t have to tell you” mentality. Obviously, if I have had to ask then I did not wick-up the information as assumed. You know what “assumed” does.

Loverly. If only. I think this has started to go viral. I got an email from a friend and it’s the same ol’ song and dance. Oy!  There have been a few solutions but probably none 100% approved by the USDA or Dr. Ruth. Possibly some of our male friends would carry us off into the sunset, but not in a good way.


It was suggested that I talk to the vajajay; sounds better than talking to myself. Topic suggestion anyone?


7 thoughts on “Teamplayer

  1. Personally I don’t love sex, that’s why I have those unused condoms… that’s my story and I’m sticking to it 😉

    Hang in there, RES. It’s hard to be a team player when you’re a natural-born leader. 😀

  2. Pingback: The Racist Blogger

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