The Fine Print

Today was a pretty calm day. Faye and I went to the mall. We had fun bonding and supplemented our sexless lives with ice cream from Cold Stone. The advertisement was full of misrepresentations. It pictured a fulfilling " Like It" waffle cone bowl above the word FREE. But of course, the fine print read 3 ounce sample.

When the bubbly braces with purple hair handed me my sample it was like bringing a man home who spent countless conversations opening your legs with promises of massaging your clit while hooking his pointer and middle inside your vagina to stroke your G-spot. Only for him to get down there and begin knawing on your clit like he missed the memo that eating pussy doesn't mean eat, as in chew, as in pain, as in nigga get the fuck away from my clit and get the fuck out of my bed!

The thing is everyone misrepresents themselves in some fashion. I wear bras with underwire to support my double D's. Some women wear girdles to put everything in place. While some are just straight up perpetrating with fake breasts, lips, nails, and eye color.

Men do the same. If its not physical misrepresentations, its the verbal boost they give their credit score. Or the image that the soon to be repossesed BMW is actually paid for. That he's babysitting the three children trailing behind him in Publix when in actuality they are his (and each have different mothers).

Shit, we misrepresnt who we are not only to others but to ourselves. Most women are wearing the wrong bra size because they're too frightened to accept 40DD. Several men carry Magnums in their wallet knowing good well their 5 inch erect dick ain't equipped for no damn Magnum.

We all misrepresent to some point, but it becomes an issue when behind closed doors the truth resembles or is smaller than 3 ounces.

So before you snap on the dude chomping on your clit, think about all the misrepresentations you yourself have provided to lure him into your bed in the first place.