Guardian Angel Complex vs. Rough Tough Bitches

 

Ladies, either you are a rough tough bitch, a sap who watches too many romance movies who wants to “fix” your man or wait for the perfect one to magically drop in your lap, or you’re both. Notice there is no perfect option here. If you’re just a rough tough bitch, men don’t want to keep you for too long but see you as a challenge and cry in the corners when they are alone in fear of what you’ll do next. If you are a guardian angel, the shit from many mens’ boot heals is hanging from your eyebrows. If you’re both, men and/or women haven’t the slightest idea of what the hell to do with you.
I, unfortunately, am both. I have journals and photo albums as thick as tree trunks to prove the past mayhem I have put myself through over the years (its not pretty). And yes, I say “I put myself through” for a reason. You are not victims. You are not shiny diamonds waiting to be extracted from your rock. You are not perfect creatures with dreamcicles hanging from your fucking rosy cheeks. We are just as ugly and complicated as men. Through and through. And if you’re both, you’re probably more complicated but would rather throw a bus at yourself before admitting it.
Right now, in this very moment, I am sitting in a low profile bar by myself (by choice), enjoying a beer and minding my own business writing in my blog. For some odd reason, my burlesque T-shirt, hard washed back jeans, fedora hat wearing, tattooed freak gypsy ass seems to be quite interesting to the boring, well pressed couple next to me. They’ve spent the last hour talking over each other, reminding each other not to interrupt, working their asses off to regain motivation to go back to the original interesting subject and attempt not to debate about everything. Then they stop in the middle of conversation to ask me what I am drinking (dirty pear…get one), if this is an iPad and if I am a writer since I have been typing for a while. Hmmm… what about me exactly says “ask me anything you want… I am bored and just WAITING for the opportunity to speak with you”. They are now 3 down on the dirty pear cliff and interrupting each other more, peeking at my iPad every 2 seconds and saying “whatever” a lot to each other. As for myself, I’m 4 down the dirty pear cliff so I could care less. However, the observation still stands. Well pressed girl meets well pressed boy and are more interested in the weirdo next to them than each other. SIDE FACT: Weirdos are the fucking shit. Stay well pressed and look for well pressed and you’ll be miserable unless your sensory gland was removed at birth. There is a reason you like crazy. We all do. It comes with a lot of stinky dung but its a hell of a lot more fun of a ride than floating on a stale briefcase.
Ok back to subject. My point being is we can all smell each other. I can read a man or woman within the first 3 minutes of meeting them. Sounds like I’m bragging but it’s really a curse. You smell danger, dipshit, waste of time, kinda cool cat, princess and darklord from a mile away. By having this gift, those of us who have it make much more spontaneous decisions. We live faster which can also be a curse from hell. Your head spins quite fast and no one can keep up. Its a very lonely world. Hence, we are NO good at relationships. Although we are very keen on keeping people’s interest, its very hard to keep ours.
The average man, down deep, wants the passive Guardian Angel that will be just as simple to please as he is…. yet before he goes to sleep in his cotton sheets, he dreams of the dark temptress rough bitch. This is common ladies… in all men (except for maybe 97 year old retired lawyers/military who have never seen the light of day OR a porno). In the end, there is no formula or success to relationship. Men fuck up… women fuck up… desire overpowers strategic thought. The only thing you can do is this:
ROUGH TOUGH BITCHES: Raise hell and cheers. You’re going to die of a stroke soon. Live fast.
GUARDIAN ANGEL SAPS: Grow a backbone or shut the fuck up and don’t complain.
BOTH: Good luck. I salute your courage and modesty. Just don’t be surprised if no one gets you.
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