Hello World,

There are times when I have found myself in a bit of a pickle. Haha, Old school idioms. Love THEM!!!! I mean when you find yourself in a fucked up situation. One of the situation I promised to explain in my first blog ever, I believe the title is, Well, This is Awkward. The situations that led me to create a blog in the first place were the random situations in which I find myself in. One such situation was an incidence at a party in August of 2010, I believe…..

A weird family friend, (Why weird, you ask?  He’s not really a family friend as much as a fairly young guy that my family know for awhile, but believe me, he’s….ewww. He chases every skirt in seeing range, including but not limited to me and my sisters, one after the other. The fact that he is somewhat successful in his gross endeavors only enrages further, but that if for another time…) was moving out of his old apartment and into his new house, thus he was having a house-closing party at his old apartment. In attendance at said party was just about every young african person in the city.

The party was jumping, drinks were served, pictures taken, groups talking and laughing, Lesbians frolicking on the floor, Pe–WHAT??

So here I was, minding my own business….Haha, in all fairness I probably provoked the fight. I just cant remember it…well.

I do remember talking to my cousin/protege and he expressed dismay at the noxious scene before us.

Slightly inebriated, I may or may not have went up to them to ask them to stop so that people can dance. Something rude and offending may or may not have been said to me. I may or may not have slapped a hoe.

Next thing you know, I was being attacked by a gaggle, Is gaggle the right word? Hmm, how bout pride? No, thats for lions. School ? No that for fish. Murder? No thats for crows. Coven? No thats for witches. I suppose gaggle will have to do. Yes, yes, next thing you know I was being attacked by a gaggle of lesbians.

Distantly, I here my little sister go “OH HELL NAW!!!”, meaning she promptly joined the fight. Meanwhile I was pushed into a nearby closet and being attacked I suppose the only way lesbian know how to attack, with their mouths.

Aaaaarrrggghh, whats that sharp piercing pain on my right breast. Crimney! It a set of teeth viciously clamping down on my voluptuous member. It seemed no matter how many times I punched her in the head or kneed her in the stomach, she refused to let go.

It took a band, is band the right word? Sigh, not this again. Band will have to do. A band of guys to pry her off my delectable flesh and separating all the females.

Apparently my older sister had joined in on the quarrel and had soundly punched one feral lesbian in the face. Though terribly injured, not terribly as in badly but terribly as in the scandalousness of the location, I wasn’t too far distracted to be glad that at least the numbers were even. Three of us against three rabid lesbians. It seemed however I got the burnt of the altercation.

Admittedly I really suck as a fighter. It’s not that I cant but I’m too busy protecting my face. I’m not even a lover either, except of one for life. Touchy feely is not my thing. The phrase, “I’m a lover, not a fighter is quite bias, what about the many people who are just watchers. People who do neither, just watch as life goes on, living vicariously through others. From hence forth, I’m not a lover, fighter, or a watcher. I’m a baker.


So what’s the morale of this story: Stay away from LESBIANS!!!!!

Well that’s not true, I’ve met some really nice lesbians…..the morale of the story is, Stay away from African LESBIANS!!!!!

Well that’s not true either, Hmmm…I guess the morale of the story is, Always fight with something heavy in your hand.

Oh and sisters are AWESOME.