i prefer not intelligent women

March 31, 2009 at 2:19 pm | Posted in life | 3 Comments

serve me rather with a woman fascinated by intelligence.

and this does not fall under the following reason: nowadays, every puppy, sick with love keep branding their intimate-other, ‘intelligent‘.

“Oh my boyfie this, oh my jamaa that…(insert that squeaky irritating voice some squeezes squeal out.) ”  yippie yap yap, the  hippie puppies rap on and i yawn like am nursing yam and sugarless strong tea hang over (nduma na strungi..).

Noo…noo.. (picture Khalalwe, the fighter Bull tingishaing the Kidole to Baba Poi aka Kimunya)…nooo, i tend to diss this lover’s conspiracy.

See, me i, me i..am just attracted to the slightly above the odd and ordinary rap in life and those who stick to anything close to basically ordinary mentality are hanging about a time bomb..tick tick…i’ll be ticked off!

it doesn’t matter, you weren’t created to please me, by PUH- LEASE, lease me a substantial definition on this:

INTELLIGENT, uhm, inevitably, here comes: Intelligence.

What is intelligence?

Alfred-Mutua-Who-so-reminds-me-of-Sadam-Hussein’s-spokesman ‘warning’ about Mungiki attacks describing it as an ‘government intelligent‘ report?

YET, the previous day leaflets flew all over from the sect declaring the same???

Ok. Not out of topic.

Or is it the fella who churns out witty facebook state-ass messages?

I may not be intelligent, in your definition, i guess, but i won’t fall out and i am tempted to classify this under the file of ‘overly-rated words’…but ridiculous Luda-crisis comes kicking with a live line like live~wire and lends me a life line~~

~~Who said sex is overrated? They just aint doing it right!~~

So, not that am doing it or nime-chill, but the same can be said about the so-called intelligence.

On the other hand,  i agree, some women i’ve met could be and thus follows some characteristics; they’re slippery like seals, texts in T9, they good at changing topics when a ‘corner’ looms by, sending mixed signals, swinging the killer line when you think the prize is all yours…leaving you hung dry like a used sheath.

but the game is soon reversed, tail bites head and if you not getting head, nigga, ya need to sharpen your claws and invest in a fishing hook and the sucker may bite the bait.

but mostly, us men prefer women served best…not chilled out, but yeah: S-chew-pid.

Preferably, me too. That is, for running out off ‘fortune’.

Because…most are!

Not all…but there is a damn tendency for this breed of turning out the same: same chameleons…different colors, hehe.

Different strokes for different folks, i agree, but my strokes?  I catch them with Viola, when she aint violent, she is as violet as a lily, perfect and in-tely-gent ( loves telly) lies perfect and listens to my babble like a cat about to be spayed; hair pulled back like a pony’s tail and her full fly face shines off her water-mellonish head (those round, not red heads, lol)…face, smooth, not mosquito-bite riddled and the rest of the beauty, this beast will boast about it when we float on the isle, wrapped up in a sonnet, the day the pastor will weld us together.

OH.

And she is not intelligent.

She resembles any other girl out there many curtsys to Rambo tank tops, Wonderbra (bra-huh?), penicillin (oops pencil) jeans which sadly reminds me of some packed meat, no, parked pork..on yeah: Smokies!

They’re not as oily and edible though.

Advertisements

3 Comments »

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

  1. The older I get the more the theory of the Female Chameleon Constant seems to make sense.

    cosigned, boyfulani

  2. What are you on dude? Viola messing with your head?

    and crack

  3. you will pay one day for prefering them over us 😉

    maybe, but meanwhile…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: