Silly boys, it’s called “Sass” not “Ass,” and I’ve got both!

Hello dear friends, and other people who read this blog! Some of you have been asking where Miss Sassy has gone, and let me tell you she’s been around. She’s on her game, or rather, I’M on my game, and just so busy being sassy that I don’t even have time to tell you about it. JP. But seriously, lack of inspiration, “busyness” at work, PMS (rawr), gyming, laziness, ridiculous laundry, and etc. are the reasons I have not reported since last week. But do not fret, we’re back. We = me and my pants, apparently.

Here’s the topic for today: boys are trife (surprise). Ok fine, most boys are trife, as some of you are actually quite normal and able to communicate effectively and not be triflin skeez balls.  In general I think it’s annoying when boys aren’t straighforward or capable of communicating with me. And if you are a boy who does not like straightforward gals, then move on, because I am not the girl for you.  If you are confused by this statement, here’s an example text convo which might help clarify:
Him: come over [time: 2:47am after a Friday night out…need I say more]
Me: I’m already home, sorry
Him: come play guitar hero with me, you owe me [! I owe nothing.]
Me: Like I said, already home. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to just play guitar hero, in which case I’m def not coming over.
Him: geez, no need to be so straightforward.

Really? Because I prefer it.  Don’t even get me started on this “you owe me” business. And I really have no interest in playing guitar hero at 3am.  Not a good way to woo me, if that is your intention. Also I’m not a skank, since anyone who was born at least 2 days ago knows that wasn’t really an invite to test my guitar or singing skills. Skeez.  It’s like he’s offended by my straightforwardness. As if we’re in the 15th century when ladies didn’t make eye contact and never spoke to men. Quite a few things have happened to advance woman’s position in society in the last few centuries, in case anyone skipped every history class since Kindergarten. Just saying. If a boy** who’s not even on this continent can be more straightforward with me than a boy living in the same city as me who I see a few times a week, that should tell you something. [**This boy is not a boy really, he’s a man, and maybe that’s the difference.] If you’re ego isn’t big enough to take a hit, tread lightly. Rejection builds character, right? Because yes, I will call you out when I deem necessary, especially if your head is a little swelled and I feel you need a reality check. And yes I’ll tell you if I like you or not to your face.  I might flirt and be mysterious and not give you straight answers all the time, but in the end you’ll get the cold hard truth, or the warm and fuzzy truth. I realize that boldness isn’t for everyone, and if you’re not into it, it’s not my problem and I take zero offense.  We can be friends, really. OR you can grow some cajones and take it like a man. And hey, if you wanted to be straightforward, honest, and up-front with me right from the start, you might even score. My number that is. Because I’m still not a skank, even if you are Mr. Bold and Beautiful.

PS: It’s my last weekend in the ex-capital of the Confederacy, let’s see what kind of trouble we can dig up…full reports next week. Happy hunting, boys and girls!

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