Bro’s before Ho’s goes both ways. I never choose a man over my lady friends.
Not intentionally anyway.
I’ve had several friends who didn’t feel the same way I do about the whole thing. Shopping amongst my prospective conquests does one thing.
Pisses me the fuck off.
I could go off right now. On a big old long tangent about girls who think it’s exciting to see if they can infiltrate the process and fuck the guy their friend likes.
HUGE rant, and rightfully so.
Instead, I hold tightly to my core value that absolutely no man is worth the trouble of making things messy with your girls. Even when it hurts your feelings and even when your ego is screaming at you.
If he’s willing to get in the middle of that? Get in where he should not be wandering and cause trouble purely for the entertainment of it? He’s not the man you thought he was. He’s a perch, and I only love Sharks.
Because a Shark sets his sights on something and wont deal with riff-raff. A Shark causes enough trouble behind closed doors. He owns his shit, and well enough to not insert himself in any available opportunity. He knows enough to not shake the hive.
Perch? Perch fuck anything with a vagina and a heartbeat. They’re lacking a man-compass. They proposition you AND your friends. Sometimes at the same time. They generally can’t deal with one woman because they lack the confidence.
It takes a Shark. I swear on a stack of bibles, if you test my theory you will love me forever.
If he’s lethal, sexy, confident and can kiss you blind? Shark!
If he’s pathetic, whiny, scared of your sexuality and hits on your friends? Perch.
If your friend is willing to fuck the guy you like? That makes her a perch as well.
Come on ladies, really. Are you kidding me? Take a stand and own your vagina. Be a woman, not a child. Letting a man make a joke out of you isn’t funny. It’s pathetic.
When you stand behind your mistake and don’t accept the fact that you’ve been a shitty friend?
You slide to the bottom of my list, and I’m ridiculously cruel when I want to be.
I take being passive aggressive to an art form. You’ll realize I’m making everything you hate for dinner. Your clothes shrunk in the dryer. Your wingchick? M.I.A.
You’ll find yourself, by yourself, cause Jenni don’t play that game.
If he’s willing and so is my girlfriend, more power to them. I am only too happy to bow out gracefully.
But it’ll cost them.