“Why you always gotta act crazy?”
“My last ex was whoo! That bih was crazy!”
“They say crazy chicks have the best p***y, but y’all asses be tripping!”
I hope my readers could visualize my eyeroll as I typed that BS. It’s been my intent to address this topic for a while, but I’ve had a terrible case of writer’s block. I’ve been dealing with some things professionally, financially, nigga-ly. My ass has been walking around with hearts for eyes and under a dick spell, and my motivation to write has been missing. I’m feeling at my mightiest today, though. My “Don’t Give A Fuck” has finally stopped malfunctioning.
Crazy. Motherfuckers love throwing that word around. Anytime a woman reacts to their BS, they want to label you as such. If you’re going to call me crazy when I curse you out and block you, I might as well set your house on fire, too.
Women aren’t crazy. We’re intolerant. We’re not putting up with your shit. You know what happens when you don’t show up to work every day? Your ass gets fired. Please understand that you must report everyday to date me. If you want a work-from-home job, put a ring on my finger. Otherwise, handle your responsibilities. Pay your bills. Report to work. Pay and Report to me.
My “crazy” reaction is just my responding to the dumb shit you’ve done. Men want to go through life doing whatever they desire and not suffering the consequences. Baby, you made me your consequence. I’ll send you a text message longer than War and Peace. I’ll knock on your front door. I’ll change the password to your Cloud. Your PS3 will go missing, and I’ll have your car towed. Your actions determine which one of me you receive.
Calling a woman crazy is just lazy anyway. It takes less work to blame a mental illness in her than a maturity deficiency in yourself. What sends women over the edge isn’t your actions. That just makes us angry. What pisses us off is the failure to take accountability for your actions. Own and apologize for what you said, did, lied about, your attempts to deceive. Explain why your phone was off, why is that hoe “loving” your pictures, why is your baby mama calling at 2 in the morning.
What is so hard about doing what you are supposed to do? I’m upfront with MFs. I come with Terms & Conditions. My pussy has a contract. If you fail to comply, I will terminate. But you still going to collections. You don’t get to just enjoy this and walk away. No, no, no, no, no… Ima put your Jordans in the oven.
And for you women out there who are so quick to say “I’m not like that” when a new bae asks if you’re crazy, you’re about as annoying as when my pubic hairs start growing back. Stop selling your fellow women out. If a man has to ask you if you’re crazy, he’s already letting you know he’s full of shit. But your hopeful ass wants to believe you’re better than his exes. They thought that, too, until they got to know that ass.
Create an environment that women can prosper in. Flowers can’t bloom in soil that isn’t fertilized and healthy.
And I can’t be nice to MFs with a midget penis. I can’t fill your world with peace and head if you’re filling my world with cow manure.
You can wake up to Satan or you could wake up with your dick in my mouth. That choice is yours.