<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542</id><updated>2012-01-28T10:29:54.767-08:00</updated><category term='racism'/><category term='women'/><category term='Valentines Day'/><category term='Dating'/><category term='Honesty'/><category term='talking'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Best Spring Break Ever'/><category term='side chick'/><category term='courage'/><category term='stereotype'/><category term='edotdizzy'/><category term='skype'/><category term='Sexcapade'/><category term='communication'/><category term='friend zone'/><category term='Enough is Enough'/><category term='angry'/><category term='life'/><category term='Ugly Ducklings'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='Reality check'/><category term='Love Hater'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='twitter'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Im just not that into us'/><category term='Light Skin vs Dark Skin'/><category term='Health'/><category term='Facebook'/><category term='angry black person'/><category term='heart break'/><category term='Titles'/><title type='text'>@ThaFamousNobody</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>90</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5966325920912650256</id><published>2011-04-13T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T07:21:03.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Next Victim..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%"&gt;Dear next female I deal with.. I’ll bull shit with you for a couple weeks like the rest. Tell you lies and get u liking me. Lead u on knowing damn well I don’t want anything serious. By then you will be too into me to leave me alone and I’ll have you hooked for at least 6 months to a year. You’ll keep trying and trying thinking you can change my mind because your ego and self-pride won’t let you look like you failed but you won’t and that’s actually a part of my plan. The reason I’m a do this is because when I want something and say I want a relationship, women run from it but stay around a guy who don’t want shit. I’m all fucked up this morning. Excuse me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5966325920912650256?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5966325920912650256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5966325920912650256' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5966325920912650256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5966325920912650256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/04/dear-next-victim.html' title='Dear Next Victim..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-6480255719326935054</id><published>2011-03-31T05:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T09:25:56.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reality check'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Fall of Superman</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: &amp;quot;Tahoma&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Sometimes I need a break, a break from my routine life. I get tired of being this super human person. Sometimes I need a break from being the shoulder everyone leans on. At times I need a shoulder to lean on but I have to suck up how I feel about any and everything because I fear that if someone catches wind that I actually don’t have it all figured out, I’d appear weak. I’m not weak, I just need a break. Not a long break, just a break that lasts forever. At times I feel like superman, cape and all. I have gotten so used to not opening up and talking to people that I fear that I might have forgotten how to let someone be there for me but that's all I really want. Someone to be there for, me.  It seems as if everyone has a hidden agenda these days. Like no one is as dependable as you need them to be. Feels like everything I say is written down and saved to be used against me and you can’t really enjoy the company of another person when you feel like that. I want to let my guard down though, I miss how much I use to smile before I had to be strong for everyone. I am sorry. I have to start living for me now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-6480255719326935054?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/6480255719326935054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=6480255719326935054' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6480255719326935054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6480255719326935054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/03/fall-of-superman.html' title='The Fall of Superman'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-337562107003648874</id><published>2011-03-18T04:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T04:27:57.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying Colours</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5HsNpBKnZA/TYNBfkrGXxI/AAAAAAAAAZg/etZ9Ae5e1eI/s1600/Resized.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5HsNpBKnZA/TYNBfkrGXxI/AAAAAAAAAZg/etZ9Ae5e1eI/s320/Resized.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585379973545746194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I dropped a new mixtape and its called&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Flying Colours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. One of my best projects! I'm still getting better. Before I wasn't so sure how to express how I really felt through song. I would never make a song about sleeping on someones couch or being secretly in love with a person I had no business loving. I would have never made songs where I'm slightly questioning if God is real. Never. But as I get older I am becoming more open. As I find myself I make better music. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;Flying Colours was inspired by the story of the phoenix. Going from being homeless a couple months ago to working and smiling every day, I can relate a lot to it. This tape is very sexy. I did all the production other than the bonus tracks. I'm very in tune with my sexuality and with that being said I love women. I go from telling a female she is the most beautiful woman in the world to cheating on her and all the in between. I'm human, and I know I’m not perfect. I've made mistakes in life and with women and this is me sharing it all. I tried to make this tape as far left field as possible. I tried to be honest as possible with how I feel about life and love. I want people to know I'm a dreamer and a lover who just trying to enjoy life as I figure it all out. If this if your first time hearing me I welcome you to my world and how I see it. I hope you see the beautiful monster we call life as I do once it's all said and done. I hope you all enjoy this tape as much as I do. Thanks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://edotdizzy.bandcamp.com"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;DOWNLOAD HERE!!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-337562107003648874?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/337562107003648874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=337562107003648874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/337562107003648874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/337562107003648874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/03/flying-colours.html' title='Flying Colours'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5HsNpBKnZA/TYNBfkrGXxI/AAAAAAAAAZg/etZ9Ae5e1eI/s72-c/Resized.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2752247131537631947</id><published>2011-03-10T08:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T08:40:22.531-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart break'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>When it all falls down..</title><content type='html'>The thing is you know you should have been walked away. You ignored the signs and got comfortable. Every time you got that gut feeling to walk away you ignored it thinking this time would be different from the last.  You fed into the lies, the countless nights you lay in bed alone wondering why you are alone; you wake up wishing it was all a dream. You hung on to the good days as you cried wondering how someone could not love you as much as you loved them.  The time passed so fast, 1 week turned to 2 months which turned into years. Now you feel you have come too far to start all over with someone else. You have invested too much time, too many tears, too much money to just walk away. When you close your eyes you see you and this person together, happy, smiling, and in love. You did all that you could to make this work. If you walk away now, what would that say about you? You love this person, are you giving up too soon? How soon is too soon? Is it worth starting all over? Will you be alone? Question is why do you feel alone while you’re with someone? Question is, how many excuses have you made for this person? You could see other people but then you a just get mad at yourself and the other person like, why can’t you give me the kind of attention this new person is giving me. You know me better this stranger and yet you treat what we have like it’s nothing. You treat me like I’m nothing. You know about my ex’s and why it didn’t work with them and yet you turned around and did the same thing. But.. Who can you be mad at? You can’t be mad at the person you dealing with because you could have been walked away. You could have been ended all the madness, all the uncertainty, all the questions, all of the let downs, and all of the bullshit. But, you didn’t. So you can only be mad at yourself when it all falls down. This person has been the same since you met them. You just built this person up in your head to be everything you ever wanted in a lover and as the time passed; you realize that it’s all false.  That you set yourself up to be let down. -Dizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2752247131537631947?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2752247131537631947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2752247131537631947' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2752247131537631947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2752247131537631947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/03/when-it-all-falls-down.html' title='When it all falls down..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2535001859335776012</id><published>2011-03-07T07:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T07:07:21.784-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>How long can you actually "talk" to someone?</title><content type='html'>After talking to a few females, they all disagree with me but I know why they’re disagreeing with me. How long can you “talk” to someone? Realistically, how long can you just “talk” to someone before you realize that you two are just fuck buddies who can’t let go or move forward? In my opinion after three months of talking to someone with no title or word on what’s going on, you two are just fuck buddies. I just don’t believe that two adults can just be casually spending time together and fucking for a long period of time. Fool, this isn’t college. When will one of you decide to be together and make a future? The woman is the one who usually plays backseat in this situation waiting on the guy. At what point does somebody stop and say this has to change? I believe people get comfortable. &lt;br /&gt;Too many people getting their emotions wrapped up in casual sex friends and become hurt if it doesn’t have the cliché Disney happy ending. You can’t date someone forever.  It’s like counting months. Your baby can’t be 234 months old. At one point it has to stop. Why do we date? To get to know someone, enjoy ones company and feel them out; right? If that’s so, if it takes you more than 6 months to feel someone out and make a decision on if you want to be with them you might want to hang it up.  That person isn’t for you. If it takes someone longer than 6 months to commit then that’s also a problem. These days though, you don’t even have to commit. &lt;br /&gt;You can get whatever you want from a casual friend if you’re a guy such as sex, gifts, company, etc. So, is it a point in getting a title? What can you do differently if we add this title? You already give me the world without me saying I’m yours. You giving me your all while I’m still on the market. You are giving me the world while I’m still community property! Ladies you need to stop being dumb in the name of love and faith. Having faith that even though you do any and everything for someone who isn’t yours that they’ll come around and will be yours. The shit doesn’t always have a perfect ending if ever and when you do that you come out the victim with yourself to blame. But can someone tell me, how long can you just “talk” to someone or “date”. Be realistic with me now. -Dizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2535001859335776012?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2535001859335776012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2535001859335776012' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2535001859335776012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2535001859335776012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/03/how-long-can-you-actually-talk-to.html' title='How long can you actually &quot;talk&quot; to someone?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1673143000587113690</id><published>2011-03-02T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T07:54:58.691-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Women are crazy. Yeah. I said it.</title><content type='html'>To every female who think a man is just supposed to know how to please you and how to make you happy… Die. That’s just dumb to me. I have realized that women really do expect men to read minds and just know everything. How are we supposed to just know these things? How to please you in bed, how you feel, what you want to eat, if you really meant not to get you anything for your birthday, etc. That’s just funny. I’m really convinced that some of you are crazy! I don’t even know where to go with this post. I just think it’s crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men we are just fucked. We can’t say we don’t like anything. We have to like everything because if we don’t its trouble. Disagree? Tell a woman you have been dealing with for more than a couple months or so that you want her to suck your dick differently. She will first take it personally. Then she will wonder why you all of a sudden want it better so now you cheating. It will fuck with her confidence because all women think they’re perfect right out the box. &lt;-- That is true; no woman will admit it though. Tell a woman you don’t like something she cooked. That’s beef! “Oh, so you don’t like my cooking now???” It could be that she added too much of something or didn’t add enough of something. She will take it to the extreme and probably won’t cook for you for a couple weeks. I know because I’ve had it happen to me, TWICE! &lt;br /&gt;So women want men to read minds and men can’t tell the truth about anything pertaining to a woman and her performances. It’s kind of funny because we always wonder why shit don’t work out when we date but have yet to realize that the problem is right in our face. YOU! -Dizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1673143000587113690?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1673143000587113690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1673143000587113690' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1673143000587113690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1673143000587113690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/03/women-are-crazy-yeah-i-said-it.html' title='Women are crazy. Yeah. I said it.'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5123704488085636000</id><published>2011-03-02T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T07:01:32.808-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Expectations</title><content type='html'>I don’t like how black men put so much pressure on black women nor do I like all the expectations black women have for black men.  Nothing is keeping relationships from working other than both black men and women knowing what it is to be committed.  Knowing what it is to actually love themselves as well as someone else unconditionally. The Game came on last night and Melanie wanted to spice up the marriage by having a threesome. After the show went off you could tell that some women felt some kind of way about that. Ladies you not knowing how to keep or not being able to keep a man around has absolutely nothing to with threesomes. Most men fantasize about a threesome but men know the difference between fantasy and real life. Trust, no man would leave a good woman because she don’t want to have a threesome. &lt;br /&gt;First, the shit was just a t.v. show. Stop reading into it too much. Women like finding anything to fill in gaps with their love life or the lack thereof. A woman with an idle mind and a lot of questions will probably be the reason the world ends. True indeed what you don’t do or not willing to do another woman will but that’s refers to head, anal, sex in public places, etc. &lt;br /&gt;Both sexes tend to hold the other to high ass expectations. We expect more from our lover then we expect from ourselves which is not fair. We both have this made up person in our head that is in fact perfect and compare people we date to this person. A perfect person does not exist and if they did what makes you think they would want your ass? With doing this we fuck up a lot of good things by always thinking that something better is out there. We might take these movie and t.v. relationships a little too serious. Nothing stays perfect forever; you will have problems out of any and everything. You just have to learn how to fix problems. Once we both get it in our head that nothing is perfect and you might actually have to fight for love and to keep a relationship healthy it will always fail. -Dizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5123704488085636000?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5123704488085636000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5123704488085636000' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5123704488085636000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5123704488085636000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/03/expectations.html' title='Expectations'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-6580047883687506495</id><published>2011-02-16T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T12:30:11.202-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Honesty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>To be honest or not to be honest.. That is the question</title><content type='html'>A lot of people use the line “I’m not looking for anything serious.” But what I have found out that 7 times out of 10 they are looking for something serious, what their looking for just isn’t in you. I honestly think no one wants to be the person to say “yeah I’m looking to fall in love by spring. I want something serious!” You run the risk of running the person away and appearing to be desperate, thirsty and crazy. There really isn’t a win with this. You have to stay cool even if you develop feelings.  No one is really honest about what they want until it’s too late. I have heard “I’m not looking for anything serious” then the same girl turned around and said “I love you” a couple weeks later. Fail. Boom! In the game where EVERYONE wants EVERYONE to be honest, NO ONE is completely honest. Pride, past pains, and uncertainty makes that honest shit hard to do. So what is the answer? There isn’t one. Just know when you’re not 100 from jump, you can’t be mad at the other party when you don’t see eye to eye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-6580047883687506495?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/6580047883687506495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=6580047883687506495' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6580047883687506495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6580047883687506495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/to-be-honest-or-not-to-be-honest-that.html' title='To be honest or not to be honest.. That is the question'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1043247573023655940</id><published>2011-02-16T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T07:50:45.300-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>"Im busy, Dizzy"...</title><content type='html'>I have a reoccurring problem. Every female I meet within hours of talking hit me with the “I’m a busy woman” line. This is not a problem.  By all means handle your business baby girl. But if you’re using the busy line as a code for something else then you’re failing. If you’ve been hurt and trying to pace how close we get or how much I learn about you then say that from the start. If you talking to and or fucking someone else then let me know so I won’t look like a dumb ass trying to link up with you. I’m sending you sweet text messages for no reason as you getting piped down by some other guy. If you just not interested then just say that. I’m no stranger to rejection so I won’t be mad if you be upfront. I will however be upset if you waste my time and or I look like a dumb ass at the end of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens is, down the line I get use to you being busy. I get use to not spending time with you and you brushing me off. So if one day you just so happen to get lonely enough to hang out with me and we end up hitting it off and have sex I’m a still treat you like you’re busy. I will not start sending text messages more frequently; I will not try and court you again. I know my dick is good but I know it isn’t that damn good it clear schedules. Or maybe it is. (Insert cheese grin here!) Either way, you will think I’m on some other shit and you will tell your friends how much of a dog you think I am because all I wanted to do was have sex. Wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you busy, then be busy. If you’re cautious or dealing with someone else just say that therefor we can have a crystal clear understanding from jump. I know how to better deal with you with a clear understanding.  We all know people make time for what they want to especially sex or love. You hitting me with that line makes me think you think I’m some dumb, thirsty ass dude with no clue how the game goes. Do NOT use the busy line as a form of hard to get, it will backfire most of the time. You started off by playing games but get mad and tell me you need a man who is mature and not on games. Now if that isn’t ass backwards.  But I will end this post here before I seem like I’m angry. I’m not. It’s just annoying. -E&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1043247573023655940?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1043247573023655940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1043247573023655940' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1043247573023655940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1043247573023655940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-busy-dizzy.html' title='&quot;Im busy, Dizzy&quot;...'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-6556798226718816237</id><published>2011-02-16T06:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T06:23:38.564-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friend zone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart break'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>You have been put in... THE FRIEND ZONE!!</title><content type='html'>You did everything right this time. You waited to have sex. You let your guard down and opened up to this person and they did the same. You went on several dates before you actually seen one another house.  In the couple weeks that you two have been kicking it, neither one of you crossed the line. It’s been the best experience you have had in a long ass time. One day you go to the person and tell them how you feel. How you really like them and hope that what you guys have can escalate to something more, something special, something serious. As soon as you let your guard all the way down and as soon as the butterflies in your stomach became a familiar feeling when around this person... BOOM! They put you in the friend zone. Tell you that you are more like a brother or sister to them and they wouldn’t want to mess up a good friendship.  Instantly the butterflies in your stomach drop to the bottom like stones into an ocean.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if you weren’t so into this person. It wouldn’t be half bad if you didn’t sit and daydream about future days spent together. Now you’re mad as hell but have to remain cool as if you completely understand where they coming from but.. you don’t. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The thoughts that run through your mind instantly after are almost crippling. Did I try to hard? Did I not try hard enough? Am I ugly? What did I do wrong? What makes it even worse is a couple weeks later this person hits you up telling you about trouble their having with someone new. As if you care to hear about that shit. In your mind you thinking “if you were with me you wouldn’t even have to deal with this shit, dummy!”  But what can you do? You don’t even know where you went wrong to correct it in the future and if it has happened to you once, then it has happened to you twice. As the years go by it becomes a familiar feeling and as sad as it may seem you get use to it. You get use to everyone wanting to be best friends with you. You grow accustomed to having the feeling that you’re not good enough. Fuck respecting me! You don’t want to mess up a good friendship? Fuck this friendship! I’ll be your enemy if that’s what it takes to get closer to you.  Who invented this friend zone shit? Who was the first person put in the friend zone? How did they react to this shit? Did it eat away at their confidence and self-esteem after a while? I’m not losing my cool but hell, how cool can you be sitting in the friend zone with the dunce cap on? If you ever been put in the friend zone, drop a comment. -E&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-6556798226718816237?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/6556798226718816237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=6556798226718816237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6556798226718816237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6556798226718816237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-have-been-put-in-friend-zone.html' title='You have been put in... THE FRIEND ZONE!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2138735053118992821</id><published>2011-02-11T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T12:33:09.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes Love Ain't Enough.</title><content type='html'>Love isn’t enough to keep a person around. This is a PSA for the world. Just because you love me unconditionally does NOT mean that I should stick around and deal with.. Well.. You. If I have to TRY and make something work then I might wake up and forget to try and we fail. My ideals towards relationships are twisted, yes I know. If you know you got a few pounds on you that you can get off, then get it off. If you refuse to then don’t get mad when I look at the slim thang with the booty sticking out when she walk by. Love does not make you look better and love does not make me ignore the petty attitude you tend to have. This kind of attitude might be why I haven’t been in a relationship in 4 years but oh well. I like things that look nice, people included.  If you don’t like working out to get YOU to look better and be healthy then why would I believe you will put in extra work into making me happy from time to time? I mean, I’m willing to do it and stay eye candy for you throughout the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;Some people have to stop thinking that just because you work hard and have certain things people are supposed to want to be with you. I hear females complain all the time “I got my own house, car, job and I’m about my business. Why can’t these men act right?” Nowhere in that did you say “I’m a great lover and a great friend.”  A lot of women of my generation accomplish so much but forget how to be a woman with a man. It’s great that you are powerful alone but how useful are you on a team, on my team? So worried about everything except how to make us work but complain so much that we don’t work. It’s not all women; it’s some good ones out there.  I’ve ran across a few. Hello to y’all. Before you decide to go gay because men aren’t acting right, turn around and look at yourself. Figure out if you are doing everything you can to be the best woman for a man. Meaning, be his lover, his friend, and his rock. Don’t be just someone he can have great sex with. Be a best friend. Know your man. KNOW HIM inside and out. I know this post is all over the place but it’s a much needed post. Stop thinking being about business and your looks is the end all be all. Know how to be a woman with a man before you say there aren’t any real men out there. Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2138735053118992821?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2138735053118992821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2138735053118992821' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2138735053118992821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2138735053118992821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/sometimes-love-aint-enough.html' title='Sometimes Love Ain&apos;t Enough.'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7873344342599474051</id><published>2011-02-11T06:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T06:15:54.077-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skype'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='communication'/><title type='text'>Social Net-working?</title><content type='html'>I honestly think I’m burned out by social networks. For something that keeps the world connected I honestly feel like it is separating us and making most of us forget how to be personable with one another. Our generation has this weird obsession to voice everything we feel via blog and status updates. Like you are that important that you have to tell the world “I’m in a shitty mood right now!” Who in the fuck cares? Are you really that lonely that you couldn’t keep that to yourself? I feel as if most people just want to be heard or seen. Spent their whole life wanting to be heard and now they can finally talk and someone can see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also don’t like how people rely on the internet to keep up communication. People spend over $300 for a phone but only use it as a social network checker, texting device and a GPS. Try calling somebody in your phone and I bet 7 times out of 10 they will ignore the call and text you. No one likes talking on the phone anymore BUT they will call your ass on skype in a heartbeat. People don’t even know how to flirt or start conversations anymore because of this. If someone likes you, they won’t tell you when they see you but they will poke the fuck out of you on facebook and confess their love via twitter DM or facebook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are social networks really working in reverse? Instead of keeping us connected I feel its breaking up real friendships and relationships and allowing us to hide behind profile pictures and 140 character text conversations. It has gotten to the point that it is not used for social networking because if someone sends you a link to anything you report them as spam. People build these fake personalities when they get behind a keyboard. They develop this internet confidence and get a high off how many RT’s they can get or how many likes they can get on a status and or picture. I know a lot of low confidence women who seem like divas on these social networks. I know lame ass guys who get on twitter, become an asshole and all of a sudden are cool. I don’t see it getting better, only worse. These are just my thoughts though. Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7873344342599474051?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7873344342599474051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7873344342599474051' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7873344342599474051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7873344342599474051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/social-net-working.html' title='Social Net-working?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3752984197292094738</id><published>2011-02-09T06:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T06:36:03.649-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry black person'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edotdizzy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stereotype'/><title type='text'>Message To The Angry Black People</title><content type='html'>Dear angry black person. I find it that its people like you that keep our race from moving forward. Black people still complain about slavery and want to be treated special but want to also be treated equal. Certain people complain all the time on how we as black people are perceived in the media and I for one don’t understand how. Black people never know how stupid they look doing something until a white person do it to make fun of them. For example, we get mad when we see a commercial of a white person wearing big dumb ass baggy clothes with du rags on (with the flap out word to @Dormtainment), big dumb ass chains and platinum teeth. If we don’t like the way the media portray us then maybe we should stop acting like that. Just a thought. Stop saying ignorant shit like “it’s a part of our culture.” Why that got to be a part of our culture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black women, if you hate that the media portray you as loud, angry, bitter and money hungry then maybe most of you should stop being loud, angry, bitter, and money hungry. We have to stop thinking the media sets the tone for how we act and maybe they are just showing us what they see. Black women always feel objectified by the videos with the half-naked women in them. I think because they think black rap artists are the only one who has sexy women in their videos. Country artists do it as well. They have like 100 blond women in bikinis jumping in pools and showing boobs.&lt;br /&gt;How did we get mad at John Singleton for Boys in The Hood and Menace to Society? Its black people who really live like that and that movie connected with them and told their story. If something doesn’t connect to you it doesn’t mean it’s wrong or objectifying us as a whole. We have to do better as a whole and stop playing victim. We still are asking for 40 acres and a mule. The fuck would most of you do with a mule let alone 40 acres? Nothing at all. Stop feeling like the world owes us something because they not giving us shit if you haven’t noticed. But if some of you want to continue to play victim and seem weak amongst the other races then that’s fine, just do that crying and shit on your own time. Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3752984197292094738?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3752984197292094738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3752984197292094738' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3752984197292094738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3752984197292094738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/message-to-angry-black-people.html' title='Message To The Angry Black People'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-704564118748912609</id><published>2011-02-03T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T07:10:25.957-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Titles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='side chick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>Letter to the side chick</title><content type='html'>Hey, how you doing? I take it you have been talking to this guy for a couple months. You guys go on dates and everything is looking up, right? Right. So you have met the family and you feel slightly important. He even lets you keep a toothbrush over at the house and a couple of outfits! YAY! Well if its that deep, why hasn't he made you the girl friend? Why hasn't he made it official? I'm sure you 100% with being a couple. You want to change your facebook statuses and what not because you know a relationship isn't real until it's posted on the net, right? Riiight. So really, what's the hold up? Let me guess, you have no idea and every time you bring it up to him he changes the subject. This might come as a surprise but you're the side chick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know a guy that waits forever to make a girl his girl, unless he just a whore. Either he likes you or he doesn't. It's not rocket science. Unless he had a girlfriend for years before you and she cheated on him then killed his dog, broke his playstation 3, and slapped his mom he will not be that hurt that he can't commit. Even though you running around and telling people you in a relationship, you're not. Even though you frown your face up at girls being the side chick, you are a side chick until given the title. Stop being scared. Demand something or part ways. Better that then "talking" to someone for a couple months only to find out you two aren't going to be a couple. I personally think once you over the age of 21, saying I'm "talking" to someone already lets me know ain't shit popping off. Either we together or we not. Think about that, especially if you been talking to someone for longer then a couple weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-704564118748912609?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/704564118748912609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=704564118748912609' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/704564118748912609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/704564118748912609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/02/letter-to-side-chick.html' title='Letter to the side chick'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-549510392892495298</id><published>2011-01-26T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T15:58:37.447-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Sex.. Great for your health?</title><content type='html'>I made a comment on twitter (follow me right now, @thafamousnobody) a few weeks back about people basically killing themselves being celibate for so long and people went crazy. Mostly women who already mad they can't get good sex on a daily sent me crazy replies. A lot of other women hit me with that classic line "your a man and you a think of anything to get sex." I decided to do some research and provide actual facts on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Sex Relieves Stress &amp;amp; Eases Depression- The health benefits of having sex to relieve stress and to ease depression have been proven. For men, their release calms them and sends happy chemicals to their brain. For women, absorbing semen works as a natural antidepressant and helps get rid of stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Relieving pain- An orgasm releases natural chemicals like endorphins in the body, both before and during climax. These endorphins have a similar chemical structure to morphine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Weight Loss &amp;amp; Boosting Cardiovascular Health- Sex can burn off as much as 700 calories while less vigorous love making burns at least 200 calories. Sex also lowers blood pressure, boosting cardio health, and reduces his risk of heart attack. Lovemaking improves strength, flexibility, and muscle tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Organic Orgasm = 10 All Natural “Medicine Cabinet Cures -Get busy getting frisky since the big O is the all-natural medicine cabinet. If you have a headache, then bonk your way to temporary headache relief. Forget Tylenol, having a headache is an excuse to have sex right away to cure you. It’s practically the cure for the common cold. Having sex stimulates those wonderful pleasure endorphins as well as antibodies to protect you from getting the flu or a cold. Once-a-week sex produces 30% higher levels of immunoglobulin A, boosting the immune system and fighting off disease. Sex can relieve a stuffy nose; it’s is a natural antihistamine. It can even help combat hay fever and asthma. After frolicking under the sheets, your hormone prolactin surges and fires new neurons in the brain’s olfactory bulb. This means after doing the horizontal hustle, you have a heightened sense of smell. In fact, after sex all your sensitivities are heightened, including activating your taste buds. Sex can also help protect those pearly whites, so you have better teeth. And it doesn’t get much more all-natural in ingredients than the minerals in semen, such as zinc and calcium, that have been proven to slow tooth decay. Selenium, an ingredient found in semen, might also serve in protection against cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Sex Reduces Prostate Cancer Risk-Men in their 20s can cut their chance of getting prostate cancer by 1/3 by ejaculating more than five times a week. But older men also benefit from frequent sex, as 21 or more orgasms a month are linked to a much lower prostate cancer risk. The more he climaxes, the less likely he is to develop prostate cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Cuts Risk Of Breast Cancer &amp;amp; Gives Better Bladder Control- Sex can help reduce the risk of breast cancer for women who have never given birth. A study showed that if a female increases the frequency of sex, she decreases the risks of breast cancer. Sex strengthens the pelvic floor muscles that control the flow of urine. Kegel exercises occur naturally during sex, giving women better bladder control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Sex Boosts Confidence- When things are great in bed, your confidence will increase. Sex therapist Sandor Gardos says, “When things go well in bed, you feel more confident and powerful in other parts of your life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Sex Boosts Energy &amp;amp; Helps You Sleep Better- For women, the testosterone absorbed from semen can boost her energy. For men, the more sex he has, the more testosterone he produces which is the driving factor responsible for his sexual desire. Both parties get an energy boost from sex.  However, sex also helps you sleep better. The oxytocin released during big O also promotes sleep. Insomniacs, regular romps are the all-natural and most assuredly the best way to help you catch that needed shuteye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all that said, the next time you think sex is just something to do, consider the health facts. It's meant for us to have great sex! Its meant for us to make out! Stop thinking so hard and bust a nut. It a literally kill you faster holding out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;facts from http://webecoist.com/ &amp;amp; http://health.msn.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-549510392892495298?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/549510392892495298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=549510392892495298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/549510392892495298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/549510392892495298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/01/sex-great-for-your-health.html' title='Sex.. Great for your health?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5086549018238542400</id><published>2011-01-26T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T14:28:55.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is sex really a bad base for a relationship?</title><content type='html'>I've ran into a lot of females who think that sex would be a horrible base to build a relationship around. I disagree. Some might say you should base a relationship on trust and or communication. I can see where they are coming from but in my opinion why does it matter as long as its a strong base? You can talk to someone for months without sex (communication) but then have sex and can no longer be interested in them. You can trust someone all you want but not be physically attracted to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I know a few women who have guys they can go to and trust and also have great conversations time and time but would never date them. That natural feeling you get called being horny is undeniable so why you can't you build a relationship off of something you feel naturally? What's so wrong with that? Nothing is wrong with that, that question is rhetorical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Now in no way am I saying that you should just purposely go out and sleep with someone then try to build something around it. I'm simply saying don't be appalled at a relationship forming around being sexually attracted to someone. You have to start somewhere right? In my head I think people think too hard about it, just let it be. If you make a base just make sure the base is strong enough to withstand anything so if you gone base it around sex you better be porn star status when them lights go off. If you want to build a relationship on trust and communication that's great too, just don't object a relationship because you were sexually attracted to the person from jump.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5086549018238542400?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5086549018238542400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5086549018238542400' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5086549018238542400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5086549018238542400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/01/is-sex-really-bad-base-for-relationship.html' title='Is sex really a bad base for a relationship?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7753871729236160031</id><published>2011-01-24T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T18:01:16.361-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='courage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Beautiful black woman... Grow some balls</title><content type='html'>African American women have to grow some balls. They seem to only speak exactly how they feel once everything is over. They allow themselves to be second or third to a man. They allow themselves to be just the fuck buddy or just the home girl, never demanding anything more. Step back ladies and ask yourself, what the fuck am I doing here. Look at the guy you dealing with and ask “what the fuck are we doing here?” A lot of women are scared to ask this question because they don’t want to scare the guy off but fuck that. It is better he leave now because he scared then to drag it out any further.  Once you are an adult you have to handle every situation like an adult including relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want women to stop thinking that God will bring them a good man just cause. I know women that are 50+ and have no one. How do you explain that theory to them? God plays favoritism? You simply can’t play hard to get, have a list of preposterous requirements, listen to your single girl friends telling you “girl fuck men, we got each other”, and then say God is going to bring you someone at the end of the day. I don’t think it works like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some African American women believe that a guy has to be perfect for them right off the back. He shouldn't need any molding, training, guidance, or anything and if he does then they ready to be on to the next. Well got damn, really? Let me ask you something, how long have these methods worked? Can’t be 21+ still believing the same shit you believed at 15 or 16. Something has to change. The common denominator in every failed relationship you have been in is, you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think a lot of women want the love they see in the movies but that shit is fake and written by someone. I think a lot of women look at movies and believe it is suppose to happen exactly like that or it’s not real. Sometimes it takes sacrifice and change and unless you are willing to change and make sacrifices then you are playing to lose. Stop allowing men to do whatever whenever. Make these cowards man the fuck up. If you don’t then you can’t cry when they don’t.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7753871729236160031?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7753871729236160031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7753871729236160031' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7753871729236160031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7753871729236160031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/01/beautiful-black-woman-grow-some-balls.html' title='Beautiful black woman... Grow some balls'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3084048923002566680</id><published>2011-01-24T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T17:57:20.633-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Women and Love</title><content type='html'>I know a lot of women and all of them have the same problem, MEN. Women love ass holes and hoes. Well most of them anyway. Women seem to be so intrigued by guys who don't give a shit about them and even more intrigued by guys who fuck a lot of women. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women often want to see what the big fuss is all about with a hoe so they have lunch with the guy or even fuck the him. Other women want to change the guy into a house wife from a hoe. It's like a challenge. "Girl my pussy so good he will stop having sex with them other bitches and fuck  with me only!" I know females who haven't actually said that line out loud but have thought it. Well then they can't turn the guy into a housewife  and get heart broken and say all men ain't shit. Be mad for a couple weeks, claim they bout to start "doing them", meet another hoe and do it all over again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women don't date new guys. They date the same exact men with different faces. Women are so smart when it comes to other things like school, and their career but are the dumbest creatures when it comes to protecting their hearts and falling in love. Every woman has a sweet guy in their phone that wants to take them out and treat them nice but they will never notice him because their too busy chasing someone who doesn't want them. The classic game of cat and mouse that can't seem to be put to rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like that nice guys actually finish last Aka lose but they do. I don't know how to change this or if it will ever change. Ladies just be sure your not looking for a challenge when looking for love cause like challenges, you can't win them all. You fall victim in believing that love happens like it does in the movies. Well it don't and you will become bitter towards love from thinking that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3084048923002566680?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3084048923002566680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3084048923002566680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3084048923002566680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3084048923002566680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2011/01/women-and-love.html' title='Women and Love'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-640718478403311314</id><published>2010-10-19T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T11:58:19.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate relationships..</title><content type='html'>I hate dealing with someones emotions. I hate returning phone calls. I hate meeting parents. I hate opening up and starting over. I hate cooking for two. I hate sharing my bed. I hate paying for two at the movies. I hate hearing about friends and how they always let you down. I hate that I have to stop flirting. I hate the way you get real bitchy one week a month. I hate that you go through my phone. I hate being asked where im at, who im with and what I'm doing. I hate giving up my freedom. I hate all of that shit! But.. I love how you make me forget that I hate all that shit. I love how none of that matters when I'm with you. I love how everything I hate became everything I loved when dealing with you. -thafamousnobody &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-640718478403311314?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/640718478403311314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=640718478403311314' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/640718478403311314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/640718478403311314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-hate-relationships.html' title='I hate relationships..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1673074333296960515</id><published>2010-07-23T16:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T16:34:49.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So.. You Celibate?</title><content type='html'>I meet a lot of females that are celibate these days. I ask them why and the give me 1 of 2 reasons. A, they holding out until they get into a real relationship or B they doing it to be more spiritual. To get more in tuned with themselves because sex was a big distraction. Now the first reason, waiting on finding a partner I can understand and respect. Anything other then that reason is just silly to me. If you can't have sex because it  distracts you from life then my friend you have a problem. If you just decide to not have sex I can respect that but don't make up a crazy ass reasons that make you look like you can't control the little man eater between your legs. I know that secretly some women don't have sex because they enjoy it way too much and want it more then they would like to admit. I don't want to offend the celibate females that read my rants because that's all they are. I know a female that said she was being celibate so she can be closer to God. If the guy dick was that good that it made you lose sight of God, maybe you should keep him around. I know if I had a girl who made me get out of touch with what I believe I am going to marry her. That's some powerful pussy. If sex distracts you from being you then what you gone do when you get married? Stop having sex for two months so you can regroup then pick it back up? Can a celibate female please tell me what's this all about. Please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1673074333296960515?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1673074333296960515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1673074333296960515' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1673074333296960515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1673074333296960515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2010/07/so-you-celibate.html' title='So.. You Celibate?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-9106970057717901610</id><published>2010-06-02T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T10:47:01.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiss... and tell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/TAa2e9TqNgI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Vf9yl3Wxfc4/s1600/Art+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478266639712138754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/TAa2e9TqNgI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Vf9yl3Wxfc4/s320/Art+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I never was the one to kiss and tell. I just thought it was tacky as hell. My ex kissed me and told everybody that wanted to listen. She had a group of friends she was once cool with and told them everything. They would always look me up and down when they seen me and smile. On some petty shit. Me and her broke up about a year ago, I thought that was the end of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I seen her friend Tasha at wal-mart, one of the friends that use to look me up and down. I instantly thought she was gone be on some bull shit because of the break up but she wasn't. "Hey boy, long time no see!" She reached for a hug and everything. I replied with I'm good and gave her a hug. She started walking with me and talking. We never had a conversation before so this was kind of weird but it was coming natural. She was cute and very funny. Finding a funny female these days was like finding a pot of gold! So we walking down the cereal aisle and she insisted we exchanged numbers. She pulled out her phone, I pulled out mine, we hugged again and parted ways. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A week went by before she actually hit me up. "Damn, was it something I said? Why haven't you hit me yet?" I read the text and instantly laughed. I could picture her saying it. We started texting back and forth till she insisted that I come over for tacos. I love tacos so I went. She stayed close, real close. I get there and she opens the door with a hug and a smile. She was so damn loving. I don't remember her being this way. Shit, if I remember correctly, she was the bitchy one. The apartment was really nice and smelled good. She had the stuff for the tacos all on the table with soft and hard shells. I loved it. We started eating while listening to oldies. A little bit of Marvin, little bit of Al Green, little bit Earth Wind and Fire.. I love a woman with good music taste. I ate about 6 Tacos, I didn't mean to eat that much but I was hungry. So we just sitting at the table talking and she brought up my ex. "When the last time you talked to ___?" I hate talking about my ex cause she gets on my nerves. "Shit, about 10 months. I don't talk to her at all." She nodded and asked me did I want some more Vodka and juice, I nodded yes. So a couple hours fly by and we just talking. She start talking about how she always thought I was cute and was always bitchy with me cause she was mad my ex wasn't keeping me happy like she was supposed to. Said the ex told her all about my dick game and it had her curious.. Then it started.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She got up and sat on my lap.. Then kissed me. I kissed her back because her lips was soft as hell PLUS... Who am I to turn her down? Kissing leads to touching, touching leads to grabbing. The shirts come off. I pick her up and take her to the couch where she took her pants off and unbuttoned mines. She looked good as hell in her vickies. She had the pink lace shit on which made me go crazy. I was also mad because all I had on was some gray hanes lol. So she started kissing on me and seeing how women rarely do this these days I fell in love with her instantly. I pushed her back and kissed all over her body. Taking my time because I wanted to admire her body low key. I took her bra off and panties. She was sexy as hell. I took my hanes off and she grabbed me and asked me for it. I pulled a condom out my pants pocket and gave it to her. It was sooooooooo good. I was deeper then I was supposed to because at first she was pushing me back then she got use to it and asked for it deeper. She got on top of me and started riding me and kissing me. That intimate shit. I'm not really a fan of it but again, I couldn't and didn't want to turn her down. I liked it. A lot. We had to be going for at least a hour. Just kissing on one another and fucking. It was the best I had had in a long ass time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id20"&gt;I woke up (mind you I don't remember falling asleep) and it smelled like food. I got up to find her cooking breakfast in the pink get up with her hair wrapped. She smiled "You were slobbing in your sleep. I didn't want to wake you."  I hate slobbing in front of company! I laughed and kissed her on the cheek. It was just silent until she brought my plate out to the table. "___ was right, you are the best that I have had in a long time." I looked at her and she busted out laughing while walking back into the kitchen. I already knew my ex talked about me to her friends so this is not surprising just can't believe it would benefit me at the end lol. I didn't care, I finished eating and turned to iCarly, DIZZY! -@ThaFamousNobody (twitter)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-9106970057717901610?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/9106970057717901610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=9106970057717901610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/9106970057717901610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/9106970057717901610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2010/06/kiss-and-tell.html' title='Kiss... and tell.'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/TAa2e9TqNgI/AAAAAAAAAXo/Vf9yl3Wxfc4/s72-c/Art+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1183541631602921560</id><published>2010-04-18T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T10:12:29.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My dating requirements</title><content type='html'>So my home girl was telling me what she wanted in a man and the shit was just too fucking funny but she was SERIOUS. She had a real list of things that a dude HAD to have in order for her to talk to him. I thought to myself that maybe I was being foolish on just wanting a connection and to be attracted. So.. Here is my list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) She has to weigh 155.5 pounds. I don't want her no smaller or bigger. &lt;br /&gt;2.) has to be able to cook in 6 inch heels. (fantasy reasons)&lt;br /&gt;3.) Her car and house MUST remain spotless at all times.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Her voice has to be soft and angle like.. Like Fergie and Jesus combined. &lt;br /&gt;5.) Her booty can't be too big and not too small. Don't want to draw attention.&lt;br /&gt;6.) Has to have hair EXACTLY 2 inches past her ear.&lt;br /&gt;7.) When she fart it has to smell like taco bell and pot roast with cinnamon. &lt;br /&gt;8.) Has have been in a shoot out in broad day light. *IMPORTANT* &lt;br /&gt;9.) she has to be able to roll a blunt and change a babies diaper at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;10.) Has to recite the words to WHOOP THERE IT IS before we have sex. &lt;br /&gt;11.) Can't have ANY PARENTS! Not trying to deal with bitchy mom or mean dad.&lt;br /&gt;12.) Has to have a tattoo of thug life somewhere on her body.&lt;br /&gt;12.) Her titties cant be sagged out. They have to be sitting up and paying attention.&lt;br /&gt;13.) Have to know the words to FANCY and PROTOTYPE. If you don't know those songs...&lt;br /&gt;14.) You have to be able to type and text at least 50 words a minute. late night texting reasons.&lt;br /&gt;15.) Have to be able to run from police and jump high fences.. (Don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;16.) Have to be able to recite the words to ATL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's all I want for right now. Lol. The shit don't make no kind of sense. Not one of those talk about connection, trust, anything! Hers didn't either so I guess I'm on the right track!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1183541631602921560?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1183541631602921560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1183541631602921560' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1183541631602921560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1183541631602921560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-dating-requirements.html' title='My dating requirements'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8727951934125009023</id><published>2010-03-25T22:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T23:04:33.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets talk about.. White girls</title><content type='html'>So I'm out with a friend of mine. Me and him just strolling round the city of Atlanta soaking up the sun. We stopped in this store and the lady was cute as hell. I liked her style. Her hair was in a sloppy pony tail but it was cute. Arms all tatted up. But.. She was white. I wanted to holla at her but I didn't know how. Why you ask? You holla at a white girl just like a black girl you say.. Wrong. Why is it different? Well all my life my mom has been saying "if she can't use a comb.. DON'T bring her home." I never knew what the hell that meant but basically she was saying don't bring a white girl home. So I just had to get it out my head on dating them. Now that I'm grown and don't give a shit, I want to holla! But it takes some time to get use to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I don't believe that you talk to them the same way is because the same shit aint important to them. I'm talking real white girls by the way, not the ones who "act black." Like do I be extra polite, do I speak like I got a education? I be watching the movies and they always say "you want to grab some coffee?" First of all, I don't do coffee so I aint grabbing any but we can grab some apple juice and sit on the steps and just chat it up. Like, you have to find a nice ice breaker and a common ground and since I don't have any white home girls, I don't know what they like. I haven't been around them to learn them. Hell what if I try and talk to one and she a low key racist? Maybe I'm thinking about it too hard. I just feel weird when I come at em that way, like I'm not suppose to. Then if we do date, every time we go out all the black girls gone mean mug her and shit. Like they wanted my ass anyway. Disregard that last line. That was a angry line from deep down in the inside. The lady at the store said don't be afraid to talk to white girls. They don't bite. Am I the only one who feel a lil funny talking outside their race? I mean folks who are on the west coast don't answer. If you in NY don't answer. I'm talking about the midwest area and down south. Reason I say West coast is because.. Yall so diverse. and NY. Do black females feel funny talking to white guys? Maybe it is just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure a white guy would feel intimidated talking to a black girl for the first time. All the negative shit they see on tv about black women. He probably a be scared as hell. I also don't want to have the women in my family feel like they have failed with me because I dated outside the race. I honestly don't see a color, the world make me see a color. I think about too much stuff when I see an attractive white woman and it keeps me from approaching her. What should I do? Go up to her and be like "Ay, my name is Eric, whats yours? I aint ever did this but wanted to tell you I think you cute and would love to just have a conversation with you." She be like NIGGA PLEASE!!! hahaha aw man. Naw, fa real. Yall think I got problems? Let me know. @ThaFamousNobody&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8727951934125009023?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8727951934125009023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8727951934125009023' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8727951934125009023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8727951934125009023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2010/03/lets-talk-about-white-girls.html' title='Lets talk about.. White girls'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8565447794203763032</id><published>2009-12-27T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T11:52:09.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So wrong.. So Good..</title><content type='html'>Over my moms house straight from work, she lives close to my job so I come over at least once a week and eat all her cereal and watch a movie. Just to relax, see her and fill my Fruity Pebbles fix. I was watching Seinfeld and eating my cereal when my mom walked into the living to get on the computer. My mom is a very loud person when she on the phone with her home girls. VERY LOUD! So I'm watching t.v and trying to ignore her, but, it wasn't working. "Yeah girl, my son gone house sit for us this weekend while me and my hubby go on our get away trip." I turned around and looked and she started smiling and continued to talk on the phone. First off, I didn't know she was going out of town. Second, I never agreed to house sit. But, I mean how do I tell her no? She will bring up EVERYTHING she has ever done for me. "Boy I gave birth to you and you mean to tell me you can't house sit for me for 2 days? That's fucked up!" I caved in. The good thing is, they had all the movie channels which I couldn't afford and a fridge full of food. I'm there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go home and pack a little bag of clothes, grab my iPod, laptop and I'm out the door. When I get back to mommas house, they were already gone. I used my key to get in, make myself at home and take a shower. Watching t.v. and on twitter while listening to my Phoenix play list on Pandora.. Nigga.. I'M CHILLIN *Kanye Voice*! Couple hours later I hear a knock at the door. I take my time to get up because UPS be delivering wigs for my mom. They knock once and leave the box at your door. I open the door and look down for a box and seen legs, sexy legs. I knew those legs, those was Ms. Tracy's legs. I looked up and spoke. "Hey Ms. Tracy, my mom gone for the weekend. Want me to tell her you stopped by?" I knew she knew that momma was gone because she was the person on the phone when my momma asked me to house sit. "Oh I know baby, I came to get my jacket your mom left in her room for me." I moved out the way and let her walk in to get the jacket. Ms. Tracy was like fam.. Almost.. Aside from me having a crush on her since I was like 16. Beautiful divorced woman in her late 30's. She never and will never know that though because I tell NO ONE! She gets her jacket and walks back through the living room and ask me "Baby what the hell is twitter? Am I too old to know what twitter is?" I laughed and told her naw. "Show me what its all about, I need to stay in tune with whats going on in the world. I aint that old am I?" I liked her because she had a strange sense of humor and is always speaking her mind. "Sure, take off ya jacket and put that jacket down and I'll show you right quick. I aint doing nothing." She does so and sits on the couch. Takes off her heels and gets comfortable. She seen my empty bowl on the floor and asked "So you not gone offer me a bowl of cereal? Boy you got NO manners, I'm a guest. I GUESS you not use to having a woman around you huh, I gotta teach you a few things." I didn't know what to say, so.. I didn't say nothing and got her a bowl of cereal. Give it to her and show her how to use twitter while the music is still playing. We just vibing out, laughing and joking. I seen a side of her that I never seen and never expected to see. You never know a woman till you see her with her "hair down". Couple hours passed and she got up to leave. Walked her to the door, she kissed me on the cheek and left. I shut everything off and down and went to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up and went to the gym. Came back, showered, cooked breakfast, got dressed and went to the mall. I came back and took a nap. Woke up to someone knocking on the door. I opened the door and looked down again because I wasn't expecting anyone to be stopping by.. I seen legs.. Again. "Boy you need to learn how to keep your head up when answering the door. You got down syndrome when answering doors?" Ms. Tracy ass wait.. Ms. Tracy smart mouth ass! We both laughed. She had on this long ass rain coat. Maybe it started raining when I was sleep so I invited her in. "What's up, you forget something yesterday?" "Yes, actually I did. I hope I didn't interrupt you or anything. Were you sleep? That's a trick question because your breath smells like it even if you weren't." I loved her since of humor. "You stupid, you know that right? But.. Naw, I wasn't doing nothing. You not interrupting." "Good, now take my jacket. We have to work on your manners boy." She turned around so I could take her jacket and as I take off the jacket I see no shirt but a bra strap.. Then.. Matching underwear. Black EVERYTHING.. Bra, panties, and heels. I got nervous. VERY NERVOUS! "Don't stand there with ya mouth open, that's my job. Take me." I grabbed her hand and headed to my mothers room. This was soo wrong. But.. I wanted it. I swear I started walking in slow motion. Every step I thought how good it would be but what is going to come of it after it was done. I wasn't nervous about fucking, pussy is pussy. You treat it the same way, how good it is a different story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit speeds up and she throws me on the bed and climbs on top of me. We take off my shirt and shorts as we kiss on one another. Her lips were soft as hell and the way she worked her tongue was amazing. She definitely knew what she was doing.She grabs my dick and kisses it as if she loved it. Sucked it and I swear to you. My toes curled and I was grabbing for shit that wasn't even there. I think I even started rapping a Tupac verse.. I DON'T EVEN LIKE TUPAC! I had to make her stop or I would have nutted and fell asleep. NO BUENO! I threw her on her back and kissed her all over her body. She was beautiful. Toes, legs, thighs, pussy.. Pussy.. Pussy. PUSSY! I stayed there extra long. "Fuck me." I don't know where a condom came from but it magically appeared on the night stand so I used it. I can't really describe what the sex was like. Just know.. It was magical! Not regular magic like making a quarter disappear. I'm talking about Harry Potter magic. Black magic! It was passionate, nasty, hot and sticky. Now that I think about it. I should have got it on cam cause the shit was epic. From hitting it from the back, riding me, riding my face, fucking standing up, in the shower.. I fell in love some where in there. No. I'm serious. So after we get out the shower. I lotion her up and rub her feet. "You are pretty good. I didn't expect you to keep up with me. I couldn't resist it. After chilling with you yesterday, I felt closer to you. I haven't been that comfortable in years." I just nodded and kept rubbing her feet. I didn't talk, just in case I was dreaming. I didn't want to talk and then wake up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So now what" I asked as she was leaving. "We a figure something out baby. You grown aint you? We can do whatever we want." I loved that answer, kissed her and watched her walk to her car and drive off. Got back in the house, showered again, cleaned up, sprayed, and tried to wrap my head on what just happened. Couple hours later my mom called. "What you doing? You haven't burned my house down have you?" I told her know and that I was watching tv. "We a be home in the morning, just wanted to call in advance to let you know. Get them stanky booty hoes out my house if any in there." OooO.. Only if she knew.. It was sooo good.. But.. So wrong.. Damn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8565447794203763032?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8565447794203763032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8565447794203763032' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8565447794203763032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8565447794203763032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-wrong-so-good.html' title='So wrong.. So Good..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5447002126091699105</id><published>2009-12-24T22:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T23:31:36.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So.. Your gay?</title><content type='html'>Let me start by saying I am not a homophobe. I don't have many if any gay friends. But I don't have a problem with them. This post is not to the gay men, yall do yall thing and sword fight all yall want. ON GUARD! It's to the girls who date studs. I was in walmart and seen this cute ass girl near the ketchup. She sized me up, I sized her down. She smiled, I smiled. I grabbed the ketchup for my burgers and went to get my cereal. Well I bumped into her again in the milk aisle but this time she was with a stud. The stud started mugging me. Now if anyone mug me I feel like something has to be said but the stud is still a female and no matter what I would be wrong if I hit her in the head with my Fruity Pebbles. Then I started wondering why females date studs. They look like guys.. They dress like guys.. They use dildo's and fuck you like a guy. So.. Why date the stud? I get it that some women aren't attracted to men so they date women. That's cool and I understand. I don't understand girls who date fake guys though. I know you don't get a sense of security with the fake guy. Can someone please break that down for me? I'm not trying to be an ass, I just don't understand that concept. Like, if you like girls looking like a guy, then just be with a guy. You get the same thing right? But the real thing. I hope I made sense and didn't come off like a complete ass. I am a complete ass but I know how some folks are about that topic. Sensitive! Help me out so I can know. Thanks. Peaace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5447002126091699105?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5447002126091699105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5447002126091699105' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5447002126091699105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5447002126091699105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-your-gay.html' title='So.. Your gay?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1600285767347237729</id><published>2009-12-14T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T17:31:52.989-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to fall in love...</title><content type='html'>Shit came to me in a dream I swear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever started liking someone you weren't suppose to be feeling? Like a friend of the family, someone over the net or something? You know you started liking someone and you KNEW you wasn't suppose to, I know I ain't the only one. Anyway, you wondered how you started liking them so much? I figured that shit out! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we know somone like us or we like someone, some of us tend to start playing mental games. It may sometimes happen subconciously. I know some girls who play the "I don't want to seem too available or desperate so I won't text back right away or not answer his calls." I don't know what guys do because I don't date them so females when you comment list some shit dudes do when they "play games." We all have screenings for our potential lovers. For some of us its looks, for some of us its money, status, all the other silly shit that sometimes don't matter but hey, we do it. That inhabits us on finding someone we really "connect" with. You need a connection. You need to be able to lay the friendship foundation down first. If you meet someone and instantly like them, the friendship foundation won't be laid down. Why? Because you front for the person you trying to impress. You never let them see you with your guard down. You with hold information thinking they will judge you and look at you different. BUT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you can just be YOU, you let your guard down and things flow how they should. You are honest and open because you don't care what this person thinks of you in that department. Sex isn't pressed because y'all just friends and probebly fucking someone else. Ya mind is clear in the sex department. Girls let guys they aren't interested in see them with their house clothes on and shit. Hair all wrapped, cut up shirt, no make up, holy socks and shit. We don't let stupid shit get in the way like dates. You don't have to go on a date, don't have to do the movies and dinners. Y'all just friends so y'all kick it at the house and watch bootleggs or Fresh Prince and talk. Y'all eat home made dinners or peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches. Y'all talk about past relationships and share honest sex stories. You aren't afraid to show emotional scars because you aren't trying to impress this person. You two talk about the people you are actually dating and low key size them up. After awhile you start thinking, man I can be with this person. I love them. They make me happy all the time. That's how it happens isn't it? Did I leave anything out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we like people I think we get into the dating hype. Following rules and guidelines and have no idea why and it fucks us up. Now a days I feel like people are dating strangers. You don't really know the person you kissing and spending all your time with. You are infact in love with their representative. Its a side of them you haven't seen because they know it a probably drive you away. How do we fix this? I don't think we can because the dating game is stuck in our brain. The ability to just keep it funky with someone you want to be with is scary to most of us. We have a fear of rejection so some of us naturally do these things to keep from being rejected. Hide some things about our past, hide some flaws, always try to be attractive to the person rather it be always wearing ya cute clothes and make up. Its a bunch of silly shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn to control it and I bet you find a better lover. I'm almost sure of it. What you think? Peaaace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1600285767347237729?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1600285767347237729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1600285767347237729' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1600285767347237729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1600285767347237729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/12/how-to-fall-in-love.html' title='How to fall in love...'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2480805243812390425</id><published>2009-12-09T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T16:45:31.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh So You Mad? pt. 1</title><content type='html'>Wrote a note about women who can't cook. A lot missed the key point I was trying to make in the second paragraph and If you missed it, go back and read. It's not just about cooking. Fuck the cooking, a lot of men can cook these days so we don't need you to cook anything. I tried to take it deeper then just the cooking. But since we have SO many women objecting to it and saying things like "&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;" class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;My mom tried to teach me, I just didn't care to learn. Does that make me less of a woman? No! I want a man's finances &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;together because mine will be on point.&lt;/span&gt;" "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm personally disagree that an ideal women would revolve around cooking&lt;/span&gt;." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;I didn't say that in the post but if that's what she got, okay. And this, my favorite "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;" class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;u said ideally men handle finances &amp;amp; women handle cooking. WELL now its a LOT OF WOMEN who handle the finance so roles r CHANGING. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;jus sayin back then women had nothing BUT TIME 2learn how 2cook now women r in school, working &amp;amp; all that so yall need 2b PATIENT.&lt;/span&gt;" Well its funny you guys said that, and I will address all of this. One thing you have to remember is that I am speaking from a mans point of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one that stuck out to me was the last text in bold.The one about a lot of women have their own finances and don't have time to learn and all that. I understand what you saying but it don't make any kind of sense. When you are a child, you learn to wash clothes, clean your room, guys learn to shave, women learn how to handle being on their period, so on and so on. I'm not saying you should learn how to cook NOW, of course you don't have time. You are out partying and going to college, getting in unsuccessful relationships and can't figure out why shit just aint working out. I'm saying you should have learned to cook back when you was in grade, middle and high school, right when you was learning to do laundry. To prepare you for YOUR future. So YOU can feed YOURSELF. It has nothing to do with cooking for a man. So lets talk about the patience part which I found tickling. You want me to be patient so you can learn how to cook when you could have learned how to cook long time ago? I mean you have to eat to live right? You eat everyday. It hasn't dawned on you that you can't cook every time your stomach growl? So instead of learning how to cook which saves you money in the long run you just eat out, buy hot pockets, pizzas, all that. If you got a foreman grill, kudos to you, that's a start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why do I have to be patient for you to catch up on something you could have learned growing up? Are you going to be patient with me until I get my funds up? Are you going to be patient with me while I learn how to fuck? Are you going to be patient with me as I learn how to comfort you and make you feel like a lady? Hell naw, you gone leave and be with someone who has all their shit together. Why? Because in your mind you feel like a man should have all that together before you meet him. I personally feel like if you didn't take the time to learn something stuff growing up you wont ever take the time to learn it. Rather it be making friends with people, dating and what it takes to make something work, being social, all that. You just don't learn math, english, science, and social studies in school. You learn how to deal with people, how to problem solve, you learn about yourself, who to associate with and who not to associate with. ALL THAT. I mean, at least I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep hearing "roles are changing." Okay lets dissect that shall we? I understand that women have since evolved since the 60's and 70's. Women want to have their own money, they want to be more established, okay. I understand and RESPECT that. I want all women to have money and power, that shit turn me on. A chick in a nice car with her own shit.. They get the grade A penis from Dizzy! Don't say roles are changing though because even with that said you still want a man to be just that, a man. Females roles are changing. So what exactly is it that you want from a man? Can any female answer that. What is it that you want from a man? If you bring home your own bacon, if you got your own shit, what is it that you need a man to do these days. I'm not being sexist, I'm saying women should stay at home, I'm simply asking. What do you want the relationship to be like? What is it you want the man to do? I'm asking so I can know for myself for when I decide to get in a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are only going to think about yourself then that's cool. If you are going to date and be with someone then you have to change your thought process and include making someone else happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;end of part 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2480805243812390425?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2480805243812390425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2480805243812390425' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2480805243812390425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2480805243812390425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-so-you-mad-pt-1.html' title='Oh So You Mad? pt. 1'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1618435703392840955</id><published>2009-12-09T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T10:35:00.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So you can't cook??</title><content type='html'>To all the women who can't cook.. HOW DARE YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every female that I seem to run across can't cook but they hit me with this line "I'm learning though." That's like me saying, "naw, I don't know how to fuck but I'm learning though." Wouldn't that make you frown ya face up? Back in the day, waaaay back waaaaay back, women took care of the home and the man took care of the finances. This is what I heard anyway. Today's woman still want a man to have finances but they don't know how to take care of the home. I just don't understand how a woman can still ask for a man to be a ideal man if they can't be the ideal woman. Sure you can dress and look good, sure you can club and get in for free, sure you can take cute pictures for myspace and twitter but what else can you do? Can you do any tricks? How can you say you looking for a "real man" when you not even a "real woman." It's not just about the cooking so let me back up and clear things up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a man is teaching a man how to be a man, its the conversation that a man has with the boy that teaches him. As he cut the grass for money, he schools him the importance working for money is. When he is fixing the car in the garage, he tells him how important it is you learn how to fix things on your own instead of waiting around for someone else. When the mom cleans the house and cook dinner, the dad secretly tells the boy to tell his mom how good the food is and say thank you for everything. It's things like that that a man teaches a boy through conversation as they are growing up. With a woman, if you don't know how to cook, it means certain conversations didn't take place. The things women talk about in the kitchen when men aren't present is very important and you didn't have that. You probably didn't notice your mom cleaning up around the house or how she comforted your dad after a long day at work. Now I might be looking tooo deep into this. I know but I can only go by the things I have witnessed. The girls that do know how to cook often know how to keep a man happy just a little bit more then the ones who can't cook. I know I'm probably pissing a lot of females off right now but I just couldn't take it anymore. You get a man with your looks but you need to learn how to KEEP the man. Same thing goes with a man. We get the woman with looking like we about something. Shooting a little game at her.. But after that, we have to learn how to KEEP the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know some are thinking, why don't you just learn how to cook so that won't be a problem. Well I do know how to cook so that aint the issue. What man wants to play the role of the woman all the time? What woman will be fine with a man cooking and cleaning in the relationship? What will you do then? Other then have sex that is.. These are real questions! I blame the new generation. Single parents are fucking up the way the world turns. Single parents raises kids who will be single forever! O well. I'm a go cook me some lunch right now and say fuck it. Peaaaaaaaace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1618435703392840955?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1618435703392840955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1618435703392840955' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1618435703392840955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1618435703392840955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-you-cant-cook.html' title='So you can&apos;t cook??'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5638102436327213758</id><published>2009-12-04T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T23:23:59.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fucking vs Making Love vs Quickie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sexual intercourse&lt;/span&gt; -&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;heterosexual intercourse involving penetration of the vagina by the penis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking, Making love and quickie are not defined in the dictionary so I figured id try and break it down so that it will forever be broke! All the shit the same, there is no difference. It is something that we made up to feel special when we are having sex with someone. Can you make love with someone for 5 minutes or is that a quickie? Can you fuck to slow music, candles and light 4 play? Can you think its making love but the partner think yall just fucking? What kind of connection do you have to have? It's all the same, penetration. I mean don't get me wrong, I know there are differences but why is what I'm asking. I know girls who prefer to be fucked but how do you make 'fucking' feel special? Like if you want it to be right.. Do you light candles, play some sade, get the strawberries and then fuck? Do you make love to cut buddies? {random but a good question}.. WAIT!! Shit just hit me.. When you 'make love' to a woman, is that where she gets her feelings from? Because yall "made" the love? Random, don't mind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't care what I call it. If Keri Hilson came to me and said "I want a quickie" I'm a make love to that tall heffa for 5 mins. If I don't have shit to do and can have sex, I might go for 30 mins or so.. Play some R-Kelly and light candles so I can see and take my time. Kiss and lick her all over because she looked tasty in her outfit that day and she might label it making love because I took my time.. But.. Does it count that I only took my time because I had nothing else to do? If this girl hit me up that be avoiding me and we have sex.. I might 'Fuck' her for a long ass time.. Change the position about 5 different ones.. Pound her shit out, deep stroke, short stroke, eat the chocha, smack her ass, choke her, etc.. But I'm doing these things with intentions of hurting her because she been avoiding me. That to me is fucking but she might tell her girl friends that we made love because of the shit I did. Idk. I mean, it's all just words to me. It's all sex to me at the end of the day. I feel you should always take yo time and just go all out. Why? Because if you something goes wrong and a baby pops up.. Now you gotta spend 18 plus years raising something that took 3 minutes to make. I feel like some one was getting the short end of sex and started making up terms to justify as to why they were getting what they was getting. Its all a mental thing, just like everything else people gas up. O well.. What you think? Peaaaaace! @EDotDizzy {twitter flow}&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5638102436327213758?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5638102436327213758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5638102436327213758' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5638102436327213758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5638102436327213758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/12/fucking-vs-making-love-vs-quickie.html' title='Fucking vs Making Love vs Quickie'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-6659199678954397926</id><published>2009-11-26T14:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T16:14:50.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crash site.. Ground zero</title><content type='html'>Have you ever rode past a crash site on the highway? You try to slow down just a little so you can see if anyone was killed or how bad the cars look. You know that someone is hurt but you don't know how hurt and hope they are alright. You cringe as you pass by it just hoping things are okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting a woman who is still recovering from a broken heart feels the same way to me. I walk on egg shells around them because no matter what you say it might remind them of the crash. They often think back on the heartache and just seem so out of it. I have talked to a few females who were heartbroken and still dealing and its not easy hearing them talk about it. I mean, its just like a crash. You don't know what happen, you don't know who fault it is, all you know is that someone is still hurt from it. Specially if you are trying to get at them and didn't know about the crash, its all bad. They ask you about your ex's and you tell them. You ask them about their ex's and they spill their guts on how hurt they really are. No matter how hard they try to mask their emotions, they deal with them everyday. Just like a broken arm, burns, bruises a heart takes time to heal. A heart don't have bandages though, it don't have cream you can put  on it and you can't pop any pills to make the pain go away.. The only that can heal it is time. I know a lot of people who have been heartbroken and they act and talk just like someone who was in a real crash. "It was just fine then all of a sudden, it was over" I know this is a unexpected comparison but it makes sense to me. Its just sad because the damage is done and someone is hurt. The crash plays over and over in their head and it sucks. I don't have a moral to this or anything. I was just talking to someone who heart was broken and this crossed my mind. So.. Yeah.. Peaceee! @EDotDizzy (hit me on dat twitter)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-6659199678954397926?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/6659199678954397926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=6659199678954397926' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6659199678954397926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6659199678954397926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/crash-site-ground-zero.html' title='Crash site.. Ground zero'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1081976509237452897</id><published>2009-11-20T00:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T02:09:37.159-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you let a man know he aint pleasing you? -J.Lavii</title><content type='html'>So my homie J Lavii asked me how do you tell a man that he isn't pleasing you. How do you tell him without hurting his feelings..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it might be more simple then you thought. A lot of people in general know how to please maybe two or three people. You develop a routine, even if you don't realize it. So it's not that he bad in bed, he just use to pleasing someone else and needs to break out of his routine. This is of course only matters if he has a "package." Meaning if he not pleasing you because his dick too small you might have a problem houston. If that isn't the case then you good money and the problem can be fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once dealt with a female who gave horrible head. Like she was doing it all wrong, too much teeth, not enough spit, grabbing it too hard, everything you can think of was wrong. I wanted to just stop dealing with her all together but I figured if I taught her how to do it properly it will stick with her forever. It took all of three times and a few pornos and we were rocking like cut off stockings. I just lied and said she was good but if she did it like this she would be that much better. I don't know how she took it but she listened and it was nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a girl friend that I will never forget. Right out of high school I dated a girl who was like 3 or 4 years older then me. I didn't know much about fucking and giving head, I mean I wasn't fucking like that in school. Well this was right when Trey Songz first cd just came out. One day I went down on her and came back up and she was like "What was that boy?" She told me that I was doing it all wrong and needed to learn quickly! I wasn't hurt, my ego wasn't crushed because deep down inside I knew I didn't have that much experience in it. So from "Just gotta make it" to the "Just gotta make it remix" which is the last song, my head was between her legs. She was a great coach. My facial hair was soaked, my wife beater smelled of her and my bed was soaking wet but I learned a lot. I don't fuck with her no more but I still have the skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to you, the best way you can do it without him even noticing is to watch porn with him. All guys watch porn so if he hit you with that line "Naw, I don't watch that shit", he lying. Watch it and ask him, why don't you try that on me or why haven't we did that. Get him in the mode of learning new shit, and this is when you slip in how he can please you. Stroke his ego while teaching him some new tricks. Guys all think they are the best in the bedroom so try not to step on his pride while trying to catch a nut. Sex is easy, sticking the pee pee in the coo coo. Simple. But Good sex requires skill, practice and patience. You have to have all of that with him as you teach him your temple. How to please you. If you try that, if you try and teach him new tricks and he still don't get it right.. You might have to be like "nigga you aint fucking me right and you better get with it before I fuck your home boy who been low key trying to fuck since you introduced us!" Hahaha, that might work! Hope this helps though homie. Peaaaaaace!! Hit me on twitter, @EDotDizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1081976509237452897?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1081976509237452897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1081976509237452897' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1081976509237452897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1081976509237452897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-do-you-let-man-know-he-aint.html' title='How do you let a man know he aint pleasing you? -J.Lavii'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3936749741986685664</id><published>2009-11-16T12:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T13:47:25.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I shallow DizZ? Dating people with kids..</title><content type='html'>Am I shallow for not wanting to date a guy with kids? -Ash.P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm a catch hell for writing this but, O well. No your not shallow at all. My mom was a single parent and her having a boyfriend always fucked with me. Mainly because they would break up and he would disappear and her mood would change. I got attached to one of her boyfriends. He was cool as shit but they didn't mesh to well. Probably cause he was a kid in a grown up body now that I think about it. I always promised myself that I would stray away from dating a woman with kids because of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Ash.P told me her situation and I don't blame her for asking the question cause it is a good one. Can you really find happiness in someone who you have to share? Think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would get mad if you had to share me with another female. So why can't I feel the same about your kid? The kid will always come before me, the kid will always be there. Your schedule is based on the child and all of your decisions will be based on the child. Who am I to ask you to change that? I HAVE to share you! I have to share your time and your love. You can never give me 100% of you and if you ever gave me 100% of yourself to me I wouldn't like you anymore because your kid is more important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the person with the kids don't understand the thought process of folks who don't want to be with them because of the kid. They might think you are shallow. They might tell you their kid wont matter. That might be true to them but it matters to you and will always matter to you. I have to like you, and the kid. I don't really like kids that much so I doubt I will like yours and then tolerate the stuff kids do. Its just messy and I don't want mess nor do I want you to lose respect for me because I feel this way. Its a hard thing to just come out and say. Yes we connect in every way and I like you but.. I can't be with you because of this. It's the hardest thing to say because you feel as if they will look at you different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just know how I get when I date and I'm too selfish to share you with someone who has no choice but to be there. I have friends with kids and they always have baby daddy drama. I honestly hate all drama and drama that might not ever go away is horrible. My mom told me not to have kids so I can have my freedom to move freely. I tried my hardest not to have a kid so dating someone with a kid seems to be ending up in the same place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, are you shallow for not wanting to date a guy with kids, no. Not to me you don't because I understand exactly why you don't want to. You love attention, you want that person to yourself, you don't want anyone else to intervene in your happiness. Will that person understand you, probably not. What do you do? I have the slightest idea. To tell or not to tell is the question. But I don't think your shallow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3936749741986685664?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3936749741986685664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3936749741986685664' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3936749741986685664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3936749741986685664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/am-i-shallow-dizz-dating-people-with.html' title='Am I shallow DizZ? Dating people with kids..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-145350047507115894</id><published>2009-11-16T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T12:10:09.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of Stalker</title><content type='html'>I don't know you personally. I know that I am not your type so I don't even waste your time by introducing myself to you. You stay upstairs from me but it feels as if we are worlds apart. We live in a small town so I see you often. Rather it be at the library, wal-mart, the club, the lounge, any other place the stars align us to be at the same time. You have stayed upstairs from me for like a year or so, so I have seen the guys you brought in and out. I've heard the arguments you've had with them as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard you laugh and I've heard you cry. I mean, I know you think that when you close your door and go to your room your alone but your not. These walls are thin. I've seen you come in wasted and screaming into your phone to ya home girls that you don't know how you made it home driving. I often wish that we bumped into one another at the mail box but even if we did, I would not know what to say. I get nervous around beautiful women even though you sometimes feel insecure about your looks. I don't think I'm a stalker. I mean, I don't want to harm you or nothing. I don't want to have sex with you. I do often find myself stare at you though. When I seen you at wal-mart getting fruit and whine I had to snap out of it. I was staring at you like you was a unicorn or something. You didn't notice me and I'm glad cause if you seen me, I'm sure you would have called the police! Your beautiful though, and you are alone. You don't have to be alone.. Nor do you have to feel like your alone cause I'm here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, I don't know much about you but from what I've picked up... I like you. Your a special individual. Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-145350047507115894?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/145350047507115894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=145350047507115894' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/145350047507115894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/145350047507115894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/confessions-of-stalker.html' title='Confessions of Stalker'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2037510145121123772</id><published>2009-11-14T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T20:14:47.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck Thanksgiving but pass the stuffing.. and the weed</title><content type='html'>Okay so I'm blazing with my bro (kids just say no to drugs) and realize something.. America is kinda fucked up. I'm watching something on television about astronauts and space travel. The weed had me thinking, why in the hell are they looking for life on other planets? Why are they looking for alien life form on other planets? As those thoughts ran through my head I started thinking about the pilgrims and Indians. How the Indians came to America to discover it and took this shit over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We celebrate Thanksgiving when a bunch of white men came over here, ate their food, said thanks for giving us your land and killed them off. Built McDonalds and Old Navys and called everyone else who came to this land for a better future immigrants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm thinking, are they trying to do the same thing with planets? To see if they can find life form on another planet so they can take that bitch over, stick an american flag up, kill the life form and call the day it took place Thanksgiving? Y'all better be cool. If you think we the only life form with weapons in this big ass galaxy, you a damn fool! I just want to know what they looking for and why they looking! This was one of those high thoughts. Don't mind me I'm buggin out hahaha. Follow me on twitter though @EDotDizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2037510145121123772?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2037510145121123772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2037510145121123772' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2037510145121123772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2037510145121123772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/fuck-thanksgiving-but-pass-stuffing-and.html' title='Fuck Thanksgiving but pass the stuffing.. and the weed'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7217696101212487933</id><published>2009-11-07T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T13:07:03.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best spring break ever pt.1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvWyG31mlKI/AAAAAAAAAUs/wflfV1O4LMg/s1600-h/disco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401419159238513826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvWyG31mlKI/AAAAAAAAAUs/wflfV1O4LMg/s320/disco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvWx-3oE2AI/AAAAAAAAAUk/x9cG3U1PKao/s1600-h/rocks.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring break in college this year will be boring seeing how I was too broke to go to Cancun with the cool folks. I could have went home for break but I decided to stay in my dorm and chill. All my roommates were gone, and I could finally relax and CLEAN!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Third day into the break and I've cleaned everything. Get on facebook and posted "Decided to stay in dorm for spring break. Cleaned up, about to cook and nap. Holla at me!" I Didn't know folks was still in the dorm so when I got a knock on the door, it caught me off guard. "Who is it?" Some light, raspy voice replied back and said "Me." I don't know who me is. I opened the door and to my surprise it was a girl I called "Pretty Eyes." I don't think I know her real name. I see her on campus all the time and we had English 102 together. Whenever I wasn't sleep in class I would flirt with her. Nothing too much cause I see how she get attacked by all the thirsty niggas around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had on my Jordan shorts, flip flops no socks. She had on a wife beater, pink sweat pants from Victoria secrets and thong sandals. She looked me up and down and I looked her up and down! She seen my body art, my abs and all that, yeah ya boy be working out! She was cute as hell in her dorm wear. Both seeing one another in a way we've never seen each other was weird but I invited her in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to cook dinner, for one of course but I cooked more for her. We have never kicked it before. I was kinda confused, so I asked "Girl u know u don't fuck with me, to what do I owe this visit?" "Boy you know you my boo" and then she laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chopping it up, and hours are flying by. We eat, clean then clean the kitchen. Now sitting in the living room watching Everybody Hates Chris. She get up to use the bathroom, which is in my room. I got nervous.. I hope it ain't condom wrappers in the trash.. I don't know what made her come to kick it with me and I don't want to ruin my chances of advancing in this "friendship". Maybe she just bored and just wanted to pass the time. POSSIBLY! Maybe she been checking me out and finally wanted to kick it. Yeah the fuck right! That a be the day... She taking for ever to come back out so I go to my room only to find her laying in my bed watching Everybody hates Chris... Do I make a fine ass woman get out of my bed and come back to the living room? UMMM, NOO! I giggle and sit on the edge of the bed. She kicks and signals me to come lay next to her, so I do. Sex has not crossed my mind one time. As we watching tv, we both fall asleep..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7217696101212487933?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7217696101212487933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7217696101212487933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7217696101212487933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7217696101212487933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/best-spring-break-ever-pt1.html' title='Best spring break ever pt.1'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvWyG31mlKI/AAAAAAAAAUs/wflfV1O4LMg/s72-c/disco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-4430530443713070123</id><published>2009-11-07T09:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T13:06:29.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best spring break ever pt. 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvW0KHWbUAI/AAAAAAAAAU8/YdYAzmfAxNw/s1600-h/disco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401421413965582338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvW0KHWbUAI/AAAAAAAAAU8/YdYAzmfAxNw/s320/disco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wake up only to find her not next to me. First I think that she just wanted a cuddle buddy, on some silly shit. I admit, I got mad. Every time I get my hopes up on finding a chick I can just be myself around, they be on some other shit. Just when I get up to take my morning piss, the front door close. I look in the kitchen and pretty eyes had a bag of food, pancake mix, eggs, bacon, and juice. She changed her clothes, she now had her hair wrapped, another wife beater on and some purple pink sweats from Victorias. I smile at her while she on the phone and cooking then take a shower. While I'm washing my body she opens the door and asks me do I like cheese eggs. I say yes and she closes the door. I get out the shower, dry off, get dressed and go to the kitchen. She was just finishing up the breakfast. I feel like I'm dreaming. Only because this is the girl that EVERY guy on campus has tried to get at and she is in here cooking me cheese eggs. Her name is Tiffani. I remember it from facebook. She finally spoke and said "I don't even be busting out my cooking skills for dudes so you better enjoy it. Even if you don't lie to me and say that you do lol!" I nodded as I ate it fast as hell. So we talking and eating and it feels so.. Natural. Like I'm not trying to make her smile or make her feel comfortable. I'm just being me and she seems to be enjoying my company. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She tells me about her family and what brought her to Atlanta for school. She tells me how she been single for about two years and celibate for nine months. I tell her how I been single for three years and celibate for a few days, don't judge me!! She laughs and finally tells me why she came over. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I notice how you be on your solo shit DizZ. To be honest, when you didn't harass me for my number like everyone else, I started respecting you more. I know what these guys want, they want my goodies! I ain't fucking with these losers like that, I don't need dick. I got a few toys in my room that keeps me satisfied. I peep your crazy ass statuses out and I read your blogs, you different from the rest of these guys. When I seen you was still in your room for break I decided to see what you was about. I honestly thought you was gone prove me wrong by trying me but you didn't try me and that made me like you even more. All the shit I heard about you was completely wrong. I know you like daaaamn, what the hell Tiffany doing here lol. Its all good DizZ, I'm feeling you. Don't fuck it up though, most guys fuck it up. I got faith in you though!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not even gone lie, I got butterflies after she said all that. I haven't had those in a very long time! I can't stop smiling.. I tell her to move out the way so I can clean the kitchen. She pokes me in my side and tell me don't be rude, asses get kicked for less. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we clean the kitchen and crack jokes on one another we go to my room. I let her hear my music and she has this puzzled look on her face after a few songs. "Is that you?" I don't know why I get that question all the time. I reply back "yes, why would I lie lol?" She tells me to play them over again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I get done letting her hear some of my music, she comes over to my computer and scrolled through my iTunes play list and plays some Isley Brothers. "Lets Dance. I haven't slow danced in a long time. Do you mind?" Who am I to tell her no? I pull her close to me and danced to the longest song ever. I didn't mind though, I mean, it was pretty eyes from English! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She puts her head on my chest and thanks me. Said she hasn't felt this comfortable her entire time here for school, which has been like 2 years. I mean, I didn't feel right saying thank you because I was just doing me. "I wonder how everyone will react seeing us together once spring break is over." When she said that my heart started jumping. Her saying that let me know she wanted this to last longer then a few days. "I don't care what people think girl, haven't you realized that by now." This song was only five minutes but it feels like we have been slow dancing for five hours. We didn't even talk, just danced and vibed out. I admit, I kinda like where this is going. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-4430530443713070123?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/4430530443713070123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=4430530443713070123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4430530443713070123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4430530443713070123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/best-spring-break-ever-pt-2.html' title='Best spring break ever pt. 2'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvW0KHWbUAI/AAAAAAAAAU8/YdYAzmfAxNw/s72-c/disco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8436787533642424547</id><published>2009-11-06T19:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T13:05:23.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best spring break ever pt.3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvXCYdKr64I/AAAAAAAAAVM/2prmsupilUE/s1600-h/disco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401437053502876546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvXCYdKr64I/AAAAAAAAAVM/2prmsupilUE/s320/disco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its now Saturday and people are starting to come back to the dorms. We have been kicking it real tight for the past couple of days. I kind of forgot the rest of the world existed to be honest. We stay up all night talking and joking and spend all day hitting the city. Atlanta can be a very romantic city, if you know where to go and what to do. I kinda don't want folks to know about us. When people find out, that's when it usually falls apart. I'm not gone lie, I started to develop strong feelings for her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We chilling in my bed watching tv and she says, "I been looking for a guy like you for a very long time. Literally praying and looking for a guy like you. I guess my prayers BEEN answered since English class." Usually its me telling a female how I like her so much but this time its the other way around. I have had a lot of false alarms with females, A LOT! Something about this though seemed to be real, very real. Thing is, we haven't even kissed yet. I haven't tried to have sex with her or make a move, we just kicking it. Haven't done this, EVER. We not worried about tittles or nothing. Nothing came in the way of us getting to know one another. True its only been a couple days but I like it and I'm a run with it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told her my roomates will be back in a hour and don't want them to see her leaving my room as if we just had sex. She agreed and said she needs to go back to her room and greet her roomates as if she been missing them. I walk her to the door and give her a hug. She started to walk out the door then came back and gave me a kiss. This was one of those movie kisses! She grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer, slid tounge in and everything. She was a good fucking kisser!! I swear it went in slow motion and I was enjoying every last bit of it. She stood back and smiled then walked away. My heart was jumping and butterflies was flying all around my gut.. I was confused though on what we was. We never established what direction we was going in. All I know is that she had horrible experiences with guys and I couldn't fuck it up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get on facebook to change my status and on the home page it read, "Tiffany P. Just spent the best 4 days of her life with my new boy friend." That let me know exactly what I needed to know. I got me a Ms. DizZy! I change my status to "Just spent the best 4 days of my life with my new girl friend." Of COURSE people are going to be nosey and put two and two together but.. I don't care, hell I just spent the best 4 days of my life with my new girl friend! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;@EDotDizzy follow me on twitter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8436787533642424547?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8436787533642424547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8436787533642424547' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8436787533642424547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8436787533642424547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/11/best-spring-break-ever-pt3_06.html' title='Best spring break ever pt.3'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SvXCYdKr64I/AAAAAAAAAVM/2prmsupilUE/s72-c/disco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-4370432907696259354</id><published>2009-09-23T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T10:12:12.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calling an Apple an Orange..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SrpGRkq_0mI/AAAAAAAAAUM/GaU_3yTlIHo/s1600-h/TotalRedApple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384693572190589538" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SrpGRkq_0mI/AAAAAAAAAUM/GaU_3yTlIHo/s320/TotalRedApple.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of you would look at me funny and call me crazy if I looked at this picture and called it an orange right? If I stood there in your face and argued to you that it was an orange you would question if I had some type of mental problem. If I told you that if you took the seeds out of this apple and it would grow an orange tree, how would you look at me? If I told you that I wanted to take this apple and make six cups of orange juice, you would stop being my friend wouldn’t you in fear that I have completely lost my mind and lost my hold on reality, right? You would, don’t lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well when you tell me about your relationship, the same thoughts run through my head. I mean, you clearly have an apple but treating it like an orange. He doesn’t really talk to you but you swear you guys have great communication and he is just going through something right now. You save yourself for him while he out doing whatever with whoever but you is so sure that he will make you his girl one day.  He is a part time lover getting full time lover benefits. When you talk to your girls and describe what you have, they look at you like you’re crazy but you reply with “Yall just don’t understand what we have.” Well that’s because you don’t even understand what you two have. You have an apple treating it like an orange. In turn you look crazy and it appears that you have lost your grip on reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you lay yourself to sleep at night, you tell yourself that everything will be okay and that tomorrow might be the day the apple actually turns into an orange. You are not a magician and the chances of you being the one turning an apple to an orange is slim to none. It usually takes heartache for one to realize that the apple is in fact an apple and not an orange. It’s like you fall, hit your head and it knocks some sense in your head but you have a scar on your heart instead of your head. Sit back and evaluate what you actually have and not what you wish you had. You will save time and heartache. Peace and love. Dizzy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-4370432907696259354?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/4370432907696259354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=4370432907696259354' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4370432907696259354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4370432907696259354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/09/calling-apple-orange.html' title='Calling an Apple an Orange..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SrpGRkq_0mI/AAAAAAAAAUM/GaU_3yTlIHo/s72-c/TotalRedApple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2387726397014493427</id><published>2009-09-16T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T01:51:20.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth... or Dare.. or Threesome?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SrCQHGb7_nI/AAAAAAAAAUE/yMio7TNFUfY/s1600-h/threesome-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SrCQHGb7_nI/AAAAAAAAAUE/yMio7TNFUfY/s320/threesome-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381960006369017458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was us 4, the gang. We get up all the time and just hang out since we were the only 4 out of the friends who was still single for some reason. We have movie nights then do some opposite sex bashing after wards. Me, Mike, Kim and Syd, the 4 musketeers. So we watched the movie then as we started opposite sex bashing, Mike pulled out 2 blunts and sparked up.. Shit.. We all hit that shit. Syd got up and got some goose.. 4 shot glasses.. We all hit that shit. We don't usually get this threw back but I guess the stars and the moon were aligned perfectly that night. We sat up laughing and shit, cracking jokes on one another about our bad relationships. Mike just got out of a relationship like 2 weeks ago, that bitch is crazy low key. Kim and Syd, 2 black semi bitter black women let his ass have it cause his ex is white. Ironically shortly after we was blazing and drinking he said he had to go home, "he had to work in the morning." This negro phone was going off like hell, his ex was on em hard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leave, the blunts are finished, the goose is put up, nothing to do so I decide we should play truth or dare. Now looking back, it had to be the liquor to make them agree but they were down and so was I! I let Kim go first cause she seemed to be DUPER eager to play. "Diz, truth or dare?" I say dare, I AINT NO BITCH lol. "I dare you to kiss Syd!" Syd is pretty as hell so I was down off top, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Naw, that aint no damn kiss. Don't be no bitch dizzy and kiss her!!" So I licked my lips and got em juicy and kissed her. How dare she try to put me on blast like that. So it was Syd turn and she instantly looked at me.. "I dare you to lick Kim neck! LOL!!" I didn't see what was soo funny and was starting to think they was trying to turn this into a blue ball game. I leaned over and licked her neck as instructed. I didn't want to be the one to not follow rules in such a great game! So its my turn, I turned the tables. "I dare you (Kim) to kiss her." I'm thinking she gone back out but she giggled then leaned over and kissed her.. Now this is when things got interesting because they were kissing for longer then they were suppose to. Kim then grabbed the back of her neck.. I started to get turned on.. Then that's when it got kinda crazy. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fast forward because they was kissing for a minute.. I was just watching. Kim bagged back and Syd went to cut the lights off. I didn't know if they have ever done this before but I'm sure glad they doing it now! So as Syd comes back to the bed she taking off her clothes.. First goes the shirt, then the pants then the socks.. I look over to Kim and she has already taken off her clothes. I all of a sudden felt, "over dressed" for the festivities but didn't want to include myself in their little love affair so I played it cool like a fly on the wall. I was sitting with a stiff dick confused not knowing what to do. So Kim and Syd start going at it, all kissing and foreplay. Nobody took it to that next level.. Not until Syd spoke finally "So you got the dick we want and you still over there stuck on stupid mode." I swear its like all my clothes were break away cause it seem like I just pulled EVERYTHING off. Shirt, pants, socks, shoes bitch WIPE ME DOWN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never done this before, take two girls at the same time. I didn't know if my mini me was up for it and didn't want to put too much pressure on him. Ha! Like I can take down 1 girl no problem but 2? I'm nervous at first till Kim take my dick out and just starts sucking it like she has been wanting it forever. Mind you I have never came at them like this, seen them naked, nothing.. I mean we flirt but, hell who don't? So she sucking me and it gotta be the best head I've ever had. Syd starts kissing on Kim then get behind her and start eating her out. By this time we all naked and its a beautiful site. It was like I was looking down on the whole thing, sexy! So Kim is sucking me and Kim is eating her, then they switch. Syd was better then Kim. Kim was prissy with it but it was good. Syd however was nasty. She started spitting and using both hands. I had to think about Final Exams and the last season of The Game to keep from nutting all over the place. I pushed her off me, get my composure together cause I wanted to show them both, I was the shit. Syd started talking shit "So is this too much for you huh? Give it to me, where the fuck you going?" That low key turned me on. Kim started laughing, a little too hard for comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I turn Syd around, grab a condom off the dresser and slid in. I felt I had something to prove now. I start and at first I'm going slow then I started going ham! I was pulling her hair and choking her at the same time. She was in heaven! She started creaming instantly! Kim sat in front of Syd and was playing with her titties. Syd was loving what I was doing, even if SHE tried to front, her pussy was letting me know I was doing a good job. Kim got bored, "Um bitch, you had enough. Its my turn now!" We all laughed as I pulled out. Syd got up and went to the kitchen. That's when I attacked Kim ass. Kim and Syd had two different body types. Syd was slimmer then Kim. I loved Kim's hips. I put her on her side, hiked one leg up and slid in. Now normally that's all I do, but I had to get deeper, and I did.. Once I got deep I slowly started stroking her like a porn star. She didn't speak or anything.. Her facial expressions spoke volumes though. I started to go harder and harder and harder till I felt like I was gone break her in half. Her body tensed up and she started moaning and.. her pussy started squirting.. Like.. I was stroking and water (or whatever it was) was splashing all over me but I wasn't gone stop.  She was shaking and biting her lip and I lost it. I busted a scary movie nut!!! Syd came in and got mad! "So I get some juice and this bitch get juice all over my bed?! I hate both of yall.. Get off my shit." She wasn't really mad, she just got a bitchy sense of humor.. I couldn't get up.. And didn't.. We all slept in the same bed that night.. I felt lucky as shit! "So who turn is it on truth or dare" Kim asked as she slid on her panties and got into bed. We all laughed. I don't think I'll tell Mike the next day.. I'm sure he wouldn't have believed me or would have gotten pissed! O wEll!! Peaaaaaaaaaace!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twitter flow @EDotDizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2387726397014493427?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2387726397014493427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2387726397014493427' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2387726397014493427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2387726397014493427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/09/truth-or-dare-or-threesome.html' title='Truth... or Dare.. or Threesome?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SrCQHGb7_nI/AAAAAAAAAUE/yMio7TNFUfY/s72-c/threesome-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8196906407795880318</id><published>2009-09-13T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T21:31:21.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kanye West, the outspoken hero</title><content type='html'>So the talk of the night is how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt; is such an ass for taking the spotlight from Taylor Swift at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;VMA's&lt;/span&gt;, which by the way was boring as hell. Granted he did take her spotlight, but he didn't disrespect her at all I don't feel. When he grabbed the mic he said "congrats Taylor, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; happy for you. I really am." So it's not like he said bitch you whack and you don't deserve this award.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets look at the facts. Taylor Swift was in the promo commercials for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;VMA's&lt;/span&gt; and the promo for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Rhapsody&lt;/span&gt;. No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;kawinkdy&lt;/span&gt; dink that she won the only award she was nominated for. All the videos she was up against was last summer SMASHES! Lady Gaga with poker face, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt; with Single Ladies, Pink and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Katty&lt;/span&gt; Perry. All those songs came out LAST summer and Taylor Swift shit came out a few months ago. How did she win against all those smashes? Cause its POLITICS! You be in our commercials and we will give you an award. She wasn't suppose to win that, it just isn't possible. It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; like viewers voted, its all politics. So him snatching the mic was much more then Taylor Swift, it was speaking up on the politics &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; apart of music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got a network that is called Music Television that shows NO VIDEOS all day.. Well, they do show them at 4am. No more Diary, no more making the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;vidoe&lt;/span&gt;, no more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;TRL&lt;/span&gt;... Nothing. So you cut down the music videos and snatch it away from the public then snatch awards from people who should be winning them such as Lady Gaga and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt;. A lot of you "rappers" and "singers" need to stop thinking its about talent.. POLITICS! Politics as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt; took the spotlight from a little innocent 19 year old country singer by the name of Taylor Swift but he spoke out against the bullshit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;MTv&lt;/span&gt; and BET be on when it comes to music artists. If they don't want you successful you won't be, period. Why you think Young &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Jeezy&lt;/span&gt; hasn't won ANY major awards? Did he not have the summer on smash in 2005? He didn't win shit from BET, MTV, Grammy, Viewers Choice.. Why? Cause he talking about trapping and all that other shit. I don't condone it but if you smash like that you HAVE to win something. Best new artist, a sticker, a gift bag or something. They picking and choosing who they want to win and be in the spotlight and for ANY up and coming artist that should make you furious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt; speaking on how Taylor Swift is only 19 and innocent and should not have had that happen to her, what about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Soulja&lt;/span&gt; Boy? He only 18 or 19 and having fun with music but EVERYONE blames the death of hip hop on him. Rappers, actors, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; personalities are all bashing him for having fun entertaining. No one said, aw man they should stop talking about him like that, he is just a kid. FUCK &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;YALL&lt;/span&gt;, selective sensitivity is what I call it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Soulja&lt;/span&gt; Boy had the biggest single with superman and didn't win ANY awards.. BUT the hoe Jennifer Hudson didn't drop a damn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;cd&lt;/span&gt; yet and won best new artist over Lupe Fiasco at the grammy's.. How was she even in the running? So we picking folks out of movies to be winners now? POLITICS! Lighten the hell up. I commend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt;, speaking up on the music networks for cutting back on videos and artists. Fuck off and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;wisen&lt;/span&gt; up. Hit me up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;dat&lt;/span&gt; twitter @&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;EDotDizzy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Peaaaaaaaaaaaaace&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8196906407795880318?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8196906407795880318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8196906407795880318' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8196906407795880318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8196906407795880318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/09/kanye-west-outspoken-hero.html' title='Kanye West, the outspoken hero'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5820212541700196546</id><published>2009-09-04T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T09:44:22.036-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ugly Ducklings'/><title type='text'>Why Men Date Ugly Ducklings.... (classic repost)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SaOctza1xnI/AAAAAAAAAJM/nHOCbw7LBdc/s1600-h/universe-ugly-duckling-large-500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SaOctza1xnI/AAAAAAAAAJM/nHOCbw7LBdc/s400/universe-ugly-duckling-large-500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306257096683406962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So my home girl asked me one night, "why do men date ugly ass females?" I felt like she was coming at my head, like the girls I kick it with ugly as hell or something. She continued to ask,  "why is it that sexy women with shit going for themselves have to be on the hunt extra hard when the ugly duckling got the good man?" Great question Alexis, I'm a tell you exactly why, from my stand point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply put, beautiful women need toooo much!! Too much attention and too much pampering. SOME beautiful women are use to getting whatever they want with a flick of the hair and the little baby voice. Their use to guys taking them out to the high end restaurants, trips to the mall, and gifts for no reason. Why? Because they are simply beautiful. Its not all, but its most of them. They also lack conversation. They're soo dense, shallow, ditzy, conceited, dumb, or too damn spaced out to hold a decent conversation about anything. The only way you might get them to talk is if they talk about: What they want to buy, going to the club, what they should wear to the club, their ex, what they want you to buy, or even worse, WHAT YOU AINT GOT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she is pretty, can hold a conversation and isnt shallow. SHE MIGHT BE FUCKING CRAZY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to women that are well "established," you get it bad too because you feel like you don't need a guy for ANYTHING. When a guy tries to do something for you, you're too quick to say "I got it." You're too independent. Yeah I know its a new millenium and being independent is in but, yet and still you want a man to love you and make love to you. You want a man to make you feel like your the only thing that matters, a man to share your deepest thoughts with, blaaaaah. You're so independent, do it yourself! A man needs to feel needed for something. If we feel useless, then its no point to even try. What you need me for when you do everything on your own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ugly duckling however.. She doesn't expect ANYTHING! She appreciates EVERYTHING a guy does for her. If she say she hungry, and he picks her up a McChicken and or a double cheese burger, she will eat that shit as if it was steak and wont complain that it wasn't Wendy's. If you buy her a gift for no reason, she is soo appreciative. She loves the fact you thought about her while yall werent together. I guess it's the fact that ugly ducklings have lower expectations.  And for the record, the sex is fucking 10's better. She licks and suck everything, take it in any position and likes it anywhere. Pretty girls, they don't like nut on em, they don't give head and if they do, they just suck the top and jack a nigga off. Pretty girls tap out.. SOME PRETTY GIRLS, not all but MOST! Ugly ducklings treat a guy like he is needed. She has pride but it don't get in the way of her telling him she misses him. It don't get in the way if he don't have a job at the moment and she has to pay for all the outings because he down and out. She got her man, she got his back. Pretty girls, if a nigga don't pay.. She a call someone else and all of a sudden become busy. Like I said, it aint all but its most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I talked to an ugly duckling? Hell yeah, a few of em. Have I tried to talk to the pretty girls? Hell yeah! Did I have the patience for them? Nope! They expect too much, and DizZy don't deal with the stank attitudes, I also don't chase shit but money. When I talked to a pretty girl, I always felt like I was being talked down upon. I always felt I didn't meet certain requirements for them. When I tried to initiate the conversation, they were soo fucking short and "uninterested," even if they werent, it seemed like it so I gave up. I'm not a quitter, well I guess I am when it comes to that. Sorry!! :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope this answers your question Lex, I'm sleepy as hell so I might have left some things out but I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. This is the EXACT same reason why girls date ugly guys. Just flip it around. What you think? Guys am I wrong? Females, do you fall in the categories?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5820212541700196546?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5820212541700196546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5820212541700196546' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5820212541700196546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5820212541700196546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-men-date-ugly-ducklings.html' title='Why Men Date Ugly Ducklings.... (classic repost)'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SaOctza1xnI/AAAAAAAAAJM/nHOCbw7LBdc/s72-c/universe-ugly-duckling-large-500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8944657017671192602</id><published>2009-08-30T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T21:35:39.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Single.. and.. Loving it? Riiight....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Spruny-S7zI/AAAAAAAAAT0/uw1KvFp9hyU/s1600-h/single.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Spruny-S7zI/AAAAAAAAAT0/uw1KvFp9hyU/s400/single.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375871472685477682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I questioned a lot of women and asked them did they enjoy being single and ALL of them responded "I'm single and enjoying it." All except one and her words were "bullshit!!! Only real women are honest to say when the weekend comes around being single is a pain in the ass, girls night gets old after a month. It was fun for a month or two after that its hell. Specially when u stay by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;urself&lt;/span&gt;!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm curious to know what does it mean to be single and "loving it". All the girls that I meet that are single and loving it say they love it because they don't have to answer to anyone, no drama and don't have to deal with the bullshit that comes along with dating. I can understand that. So I ask them, who do you have sex with because we all want to bust a nut every now and then and masturbation can only go so far. You got a cut buddy or buddies? How many dates do you go on till you get tired of not having just someone to do everything with and call your own? I mean, the party life is great at the start but for how long can you go to the same clubs seeing the same damn faces. Meeting the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;saaame&lt;/span&gt; damn people over and over with different faces has to take its toll after a certain point of time. Right? So how long do you stay single and loving it before you start dating again.. Like.. What clicks in your head that you want someone to call your own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're single you are subject to just as much drama if not MORE drama then you would with someone. Its more people to deal with in all honesty. That is just my opinion though, don't hold me to that. But seriously how long do you stay single and loving it before you no longer love it. You go home alone every night and even if you go home with someone different every once in awhile you still feel alone cause its nothing there. Being alone starts to sink in after a certain point in time when you have no one to talk to. Yeah you avoid the drama and answering to someone but after awhile you want to answer to someone. You want someone to ask you, where you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;finna&lt;/span&gt; go.. When you coming home? What you want for dinner? Want me to rub ya feet? How was your day? Things of that nature..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So are you really single and loving it or is it something you say to just date around? You date around and love it only to realize that it gets boring after a certain point of time? What are you actually loving is what I want to know. When do you stop loving it and start dating? Or is that something you to tell yourself every night when you wish you had someone to call your own? Just my thoughts.. I'm out.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Peaaaaaaaaaaceee&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8944657017671192602?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8944657017671192602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8944657017671192602' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8944657017671192602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8944657017671192602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/08/single-and-loving-it-riiight.html' title='Single.. and.. Loving it? Riiight....'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Spruny-S7zI/AAAAAAAAAT0/uw1KvFp9hyU/s72-c/single.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5133260610233841417</id><published>2009-08-11T04:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T04:27:14.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things women say to get out of having sex....</title><content type='html'>After my case study, a fun and interesting case study.. These are the things women tell guys to get out of having sex. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm on my period" &lt;----- CLASSIC&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sleepy"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm trying to be celibate"&lt;br /&gt;"My stomach hurt"&lt;br /&gt;"Gotta go to church in the morning" &lt;---- Just wrong, using the church tho? hahaha&lt;br /&gt;"Not a good week"&lt;br /&gt;"I got diarrhea" &lt;----- @GL0 said that crazy shit&lt;br /&gt;"I have a yeast infection" &lt;----- @BeeMichelle said that lol&lt;br /&gt;"Just got my hair done"&lt;br /&gt;"Is that all we about" &lt;----- CLASSIC!!&lt;br /&gt;"Get off me" &lt;----- @SINAFOLD is fucking rude but lol, thats the homie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these are things niggas with BAD dick hear..  That's what they said lol. So guys if you hear any of these, step ya dick game up. BOW BOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5133260610233841417?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5133260610233841417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5133260610233841417' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5133260610233841417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5133260610233841417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/08/things-women-say-to-get-out-of-having.html' title='Things women say to get out of having sex....'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-4946149175534433076</id><published>2009-07-29T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T00:21:30.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Honey Moon Stage... BLAAAH</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SnErb09PzlI/AAAAAAAAASM/AuJOuEhVkQA/s1600-h/Moon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SnErb09PzlI/AAAAAAAAASM/AuJOuEhVkQA/s320/Moon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364116388246965842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When you first get with someone you have this floating feeling that you finally found someone that can tolerate you. That makes you happy, makes you get butterflies. Y'all spend everyday together, y'all text one another all day talking about the last time y'all was together and the next time y'all gone be together. Y'all sit and talk about the future and kiss and all that shit. I believe that 90% of the people who feel like this at first are in a "Honey Moon Stage". A stage where you and your partner are in complete bliss. Certain shit NEVER come up when you're "getting to know someone." I put that in quotations because when you get to know someone, you really just figure out if their crazy and if y'all have a few things in common. Its never in depth. Well, almost never. The honey moon stage can last anywhere from a day to 3 or 4 months, maybe even longer. We be sooooooo caught up in the fact we finally got someone that we do nothing but try to please that person, to the MAX!! You avoid ANY arguments, any conversation that might end sour you avoid.. You don't hang with ya friends as much if at all anymore. Ya whole world stops.... and revolves around this person.. ... .... ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it goes away for one of the partners. They start getting more distant, seem less interested, start getting an attitude for no reason. The honey moon stage is now over and this person now feels suffocated and don't care to be around you as much lol. Now this is when y'all really get to know one another. This is when the HONEST truth comes out. Ya ll have start having REAL conversations about certain shit including life, kids, religion, beliefs, future, expectations. If y'all last after this, y'all will be together for a long time.. If not.. Kiss the relationship goodbye. You start thinking "ew, what the fuck was I thinking" or "You gotta be the dumbest fucker I've ever met" or they seem less attractive..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to the conclusion that I won't date a female during the whole honey moon stage. Just "deal" with them while we are in the honey moon stage. A lot of people don't share my views on life and all that. I'm usually looked at with a raised eyebrow when I speak my mind on certain shit. Often called an ass when I give my honest opinion. So its like I wait for them to finally see me for me. Then I wanna see if I still find them attractive. A lot of the time females I talk to get very funny looking after a certain period of time. My sister told me they've always looked funny, and that I just be over looking it. Then after I spend like a week or two with a female I start seeing EXACTLY who she is. You never know someone till you live with them, my mom told me that. She was correct.. Soon as we have our first argument, that's when I know its over and that's when it gets real. Might seem crazy and dumb but its weeded A LOT of females out. Try it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are dating someone, you can't add the honey moon stage into the time y'all have been together. When someone asks how long y'all been together, subtract that honey moon stage. Or if someone ask how long was ya longest relationship, subtract the honey moon stage and subtract the time you was actually thinking about breaking up with the person. You probably left with like a week or two.  I mean, these are just my thoughts but I bet you start realizing some shit. lol. Stop being so damn thirsty and actually get to know someone.. IN DEPTH.. Stop this spot dating. If you get a boyfriend or girlfriend before you have sex, and you have a lot of boy friends and girlfriends over a short period of time.. You are not better then everyone else. It's still premarital sex. That was random but.. VERY important. Peaacee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER BITCHES!!! WWW.EDOTDIZZY.BLOGSPOT.COM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-4946149175534433076?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/4946149175534433076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=4946149175534433076' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4946149175534433076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4946149175534433076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/honey-moon-stage-blaaah.html' title='The Honey Moon Stage... BLAAAH'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SnErb09PzlI/AAAAAAAAASM/AuJOuEhVkQA/s72-c/Moon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2095699861135658437</id><published>2009-07-27T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T22:24:02.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My love.. Beautiful strong women..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sm5-M4195yI/AAAAAAAAASE/T3g7KROqNbc/s1600-h/Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 376px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sm5-M4195yI/AAAAAAAAASE/T3g7KROqNbc/s400/Love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363362966127109922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know that it may seem like I just bash women on here but that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; true. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yall&lt;/span&gt; feed off drama so that's what I feed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt;. On the up and up I decided to express what kind of women I like.. Strong, beautiful, intelligent women. I love them with a passion. None of my girl friends have been over the top beautiful. None have had fat asses or big titties. I go off her mental. I can't go off beauty because my attitude won't allow me. Pretty girls sometimes have a lot of baggage, low self esteem, high ass standards, and attitudes that I can't deal with. Weak minded females always follow drama, easily persuaded, fall victim to distorted love over and over again. OVERLY independent women &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;irk&lt;/span&gt; my fucking nerves. Look, I commend a woman on her shit, jobs, school, whatever else  she may have going on but you will NEVER be fully independent. Why I say that? Because you will always need a man to be there and love you like a man should. None of that shit can hold you at night, love you, dick you down, take care of you.. A man can. As long as you want and or need something, you can't and will not be independent. I also have little shit I don't like such as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;whinning&lt;/span&gt;, dirty, out of tune with fashion,  bad in bed, amongst other things, that keep me from really dating. I won't call it settling down, those who "settle" are never happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really attracts me is a strong woman. A determined woman that is going after what she believes is hers. A woman who is strong mentally will always surpass a woman with beauty. I like "bitches" as well. I like a woman who is sweet AND can stand her ground with my crazy ass mouth. I throw a jab, I want you to combo my ass back. If you don't, I just lose interest over time. Reason I like strong women is because of my mom. She had me at 14. She was a damn baby when she had me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Sooo&lt;/span&gt; young that we was playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Nintendo&lt;/span&gt; together. But she had to make shit happen to take care of me and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sibblings&lt;/span&gt;. All my life, I've only seen her cry like twice. It wasn't over some dumb ass &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;nigga&lt;/span&gt; breaking her heart or nothing like that. It was life that made her cry.. She kept 3 kids fed, clothed and at least halfway happy.. She did what she could. I seen that all my life so how could I go for something less? I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; really interested from jumps by looks. I mean, she can't be just mongoose looking but I am more attracted to the conversation and connection. A girl keeps me by her attitude and if she is strong enough. Life is a bitch and a weak woman is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; unattractive. I have liked a woman I didn't really know before because I just got that vibe from her. Hearing her speak about certain shit, how she handles business and carry herself had me on her nuts! The world is HARD on women, specially black women and with fighting trying to keep their ground, they might lose sight on what's really important. Love and Happiness. Yeah, I'm on my Al Green shit. Yeah I'm impressed you got degrees and jobs and all that shit but can you make and keep a man happy? Can you take care of and mentally support a family with those degrees and jobs? A strong woman is worth gold to me. Hard to find. A lot of imitations, not the real thing tho. I might sound crazy but.. It's all good. You like what you like, I like what I like.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Peaaaace&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2095699861135658437?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2095699861135658437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2095699861135658437' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2095699861135658437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2095699861135658437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-love-beautiful-strong-women.html' title='My love.. Beautiful strong women..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sm5-M4195yI/AAAAAAAAASE/T3g7KROqNbc/s72-c/Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7781865108774897463</id><published>2009-07-26T01:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T15:00:49.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing to lose</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmwUEYWgDQI/AAAAAAAAAR8/d0QDXKph7IQ/s1600-h/Game.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 390px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmwUEYWgDQI/AAAAAAAAAR8/d0QDXKph7IQ/s400/Game.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362683321780276482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was laying back, thinking about gold diggers. Gold digging is looked down upon in the world but no one realizes that its done more then we like to admit. Of course you got the women like Kelis, lol, who have kids just to get a 55,000 check every month. But I've noticed that a lot of women, I'm not gone say all, but most women date and fall in love with a status. Men, when and if a guy falls in love, he falls in love with her personality and looks, not what job she has and car she drives. I never had a guy friend say "I can't fuck with her, she broke bro." I never heard that. I have heard a female say this though "I like him but I can't be with him, he don't have a car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a woman sees a man, some women anyway, she notices his attire first. Check his shoes, see if their clean, see if his tee clean, if he got a hair cut, etc. When women step out the house looking "rough" they think men are being thirsty when they try to holla. Naw, we just don't care about that other shit yall seem to care about. Why do some men lie about the shit they got when they meet women? DUH, cause if he told you the truth you probably wouldn't want to deal with him. If he told you he was broke, no car, and jobless but liked you, you proabably wouldn't take him serious. I know because I've heard females talk about broke niggas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's much easier for women to make a come up in the world these days. A guy can't go find a woman with money and just get her pregnant.. Why? Cause a woman wants a man with a status, and or money and even if she slipped up and got pregnant she can just get rid of the guy and just take care of the baby on her own. Yeah, I've thought about doing that, lol, so what! A guy will date a broke female and marry her and all that, No problem. They do it all the time. I just know certain niggas would not be getting play if they didn't appear to have something to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know females who have fucked a guy JUST because he had money or something. He could be ugly as hell but she ignored all that just to get a piece of him. She could hate his personality but ignore that just to get close to him. To see what it feels like to fuck a man with a status. Idk about all but like I said, I've been around and interacted with A LOT of women and this seems to be the case. This is why they are paying to lose. Men sometimes go after women with looks, some titties, a fat ass and in turn they are playing to lose. Both of which seem to be the ones with the most issues, attitudes problems etc. You can never rely on something you can buy or lose to make you happy. You can buy a woman titties, and an ass now.. A nigga can lose his money and status. Lets change that people. I based this blog on women because guys don't follow me lol. It would be like talkin to a brick wall. If YOU don't date and fuck statuses I'm sure you know somoene who does. I'm not just making this shit up, like most of yall think when it relates to you sooo much.. Peaaace..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WWW.TWITTER.COM/EDOTDIZZY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7781865108774897463?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7781865108774897463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7781865108774897463' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7781865108774897463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7781865108774897463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/playing-to-lose.html' title='Playing to lose'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmwUEYWgDQI/AAAAAAAAAR8/d0QDXKph7IQ/s72-c/Game.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1127714632631557474</id><published>2009-07-21T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T10:39:55.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women and Porn..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmXyb3yftqI/AAAAAAAAARs/gmgsZBWPab4/s1600-h/Porn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmXyb3yftqI/AAAAAAAAARs/gmgsZBWPab4/s320/Porn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360957492100576930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was talking to a female and she joked and said I watch too much porn. I asked her did she watch porn at all and she shunned the idea of watching porn. Said it wasn't needed and she thinks people who watch it have some kinda issues. I wanted to throw a tomato at her goofy ass. Honestly I don't watch a lot of porn. I watched a lot of porn when I was younger and stumbled across the tapes in my moms closet, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shhhhh&lt;/span&gt;. The more and more women I asked about porn, the more and more I started to get concerned. A lot of women look down on porn and those who watch it. Word of advice, that's how you learn new tricks. I say about 80% of the women who give head don't know what they doing and the same goes men who eat pussy. How will you learn if you don't ask, read or watch porn? People are too embarrassed to ask for advice on how to make their sex better. They think they shit already so asking is out of the questions. You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;niggas&lt;/span&gt; don't read unless its gossip, or a text message so reading is out of the question. PORN IT IS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless if people want to admit it or not, sex is a HUGE factor in a relationship. If you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ain't&lt;/span&gt; better then the next you gone be by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;yourself&lt;/span&gt; or be the "best friend". Whack shit. Same goes for women who don't masturbate. THEIR NOT TO BE TRUSTED! A woman that is not fully happy with their body and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ain't&lt;/span&gt; doing shit about it like working out, eating better, etc is whack. Men know when a woman isn't fully comfortable in her own skin and we don't like it. A girl who puts a man dick in her mouth should at least know what she doing. A woman should know how to use her pussy to the MAX. A man should know how to use his dick and keep his woman on her toes. It just feels better when you know what you doing. Trust..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porn isn't nasty. Specially if all they doing is fucking. 2 girls and a cup isn't porn. That's just trifling as hell. However, watching 2, 3, 4, 5 people have sex isn't nasty. They even have plots and shit for you movie lovers! Women, pop a porn in with ya dude or a dude you like and see how excited he get. See if ya sex don't start improving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;DRASTICALLY&lt;/span&gt;. Guys if a girl don't watch porn or masturbate.. There is a BIG chance her sex is dull and boring. Ladies, if a guy lie and say he don't watch porn, don't fuck with em because its a big chance he don't know what he doing. He just sticking it in and hoping to hit something. Or licking the hell out of you and annoying you. Not saying Porn is the tell all be all with sex and making ya shit better.. Just saying it would help those who need help. Women stop being so shy and self &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;conscious&lt;/span&gt; and just enjoy it for what it is. Stop neglecting ya pussy when you don't have someone to have sex with. You better rub and love that kitty! You'll feel better and ya guy a like having sex with you. I can almost &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;guarantee&lt;/span&gt; it. Then again, what do I know, I'm just a guy who talks to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;alll&lt;/span&gt; my guy friends about what they like and don't like then tell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt;. GET ON IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't watch porn or masturbate.. Why? What keeps you from rubbing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;yaself&lt;/span&gt; when you feel the urge to bust one? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; really curious.  Comment, PLEASE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1127714632631557474?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1127714632631557474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1127714632631557474' title='40 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1127714632631557474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1127714632631557474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/women-and-porn.html' title='Women and Porn..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmXyb3yftqI/AAAAAAAAARs/gmgsZBWPab4/s72-c/Porn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>40</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7997031884216904941</id><published>2009-07-20T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T18:25:38.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Social Net-not-Working</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmT3nKusL1I/AAAAAAAAARk/HqlAb4eAfbc/s1600-h/Skeleton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmT3nKusL1I/AAAAAAAAARk/HqlAb4eAfbc/s320/Skeleton.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360681708744879954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was giving my lil brother advice on some shit and instructed him to NEVER get comfortable with social networks. I blame social networks such as myspace, facebook, twitter, tagged, etc for most of our social problems we have today. I know its a bit drastic but hey, I feel like its true. Problem number 1 is the lack of confidence people have today I blame on the internet. A guy might not ever speak to a female EVER and he see her everyday but send her a message on facebook confessing his dying love to her. The computer gives people a sense of security and they get too comfortable and it disables them socially. You got grown ass men confessing love over the web like their in high school writing love notes. The pics that people take got them feeling like a model and myspace got EVERY nigga with a mic and a computer feeling like the next Lil Wayne. Back when social networks wasn't so popular, when it was only myspace and blackplanet, you could still bump into someone and have a great conversation. You could call somoene and they answered, not hit ignore and text you right back saying "wassup, you called?" People use to love talking on the phone for hours now you can't stay on the phone for 15 mins with somebody with out something magically popping up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the years go by, I believe that more and more people will get acoustomed to sending messages and not actually talking. The last few females I've talked to I NEVER talked to them on the phone. It was weird as hell talking to them on the phone and hearing their voice cause I was so use to texting them. In turn, didn't work. I'm not anti social networks because I still have my myspace, facebook, and twitter I just don't talk to people seriously on them. I told a girl NOT to talk to me on twitter and to text or call me. Thing is... I sent her a text saying that and she replied to me on twitter. *SLAPS FOREHEAD* thats over with. I'm trying my hardest to break away from the social networking and texting. Well not that drastic, just someone that I would want to potentially be serious with. I don't know how yall feel about it but I know that I  blame social networking for the lack of communication verbally between people these days. Just my thoughts though. Try NOT texting for a week or deactivating your facebook for a couple weeks. See what happens. Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.twitter.com/edotdizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7997031884216904941?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7997031884216904941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7997031884216904941' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7997031884216904941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7997031884216904941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/social-net-not-working.html' title='Social Net-not-Working'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SmT3nKusL1I/AAAAAAAAARk/HqlAb4eAfbc/s72-c/Skeleton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-983765547642260917</id><published>2009-07-13T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:13:13.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart left at the scene of the crime...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SltQmdLrucI/AAAAAAAAAQY/7p6cYra9mVg/s1600-h/policetapeweb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SltQmdLrucI/AAAAAAAAAQY/7p6cYra9mVg/s320/policetapeweb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357964803286219202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;I never thought that she would cheat on me but then again, you can never put anything past anyone. We was dating for like 8 months and I thought we was good till I walked in on her having sex with some dude in MY bed.. On some Dru Hill shit. She thought I was out of town doing a show but I came back early only to find her not missing me like she said in the text 30 mins ago.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;After we fought and I kicked her out, we started talking again and I ended up forgiving her. So I thought.. We didn't start dating again but we was picking up all the pieces. That was two years ago. I thought we was good because I finally decided we could be together again. Not smart.. I know. The thought of how we USE to be and how things USE to be made me want to give it another try. We haven't had sex in my house since before it went down. It was always at her place.. Not on purpose it just ended up like that. She said she wanted to do something sexy for me so I gave her the keys to my spot while I went out of town for a studio session. I didn't know what she had in mind but I said fuck it and gave it a shot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;So I walk in and she got some candles and shit lit. I walk up stairs to find her in the bed with the music and shit playing. Some sexy red shit on, she knew I liked. She was laying on top of the covers just waiting for me. I got instantly horny, just because I know how good she can be when she wants to be. I took my clothes off and got into bed. I laid on my back cause I guess she wanted to be in charge. She started kissing me and rubbing all on me. I don't know if it was the weed I smoked on the way home but when I looked at the doorway I seen ME. Like, I seen me the day I caught her cheating. I closed my eyes, shook my head and the image was gone. So she pulled my dick out and started goin haaaam! I loved it.. Stick with me because this where the weed had me tripping. It turned to an outer body experience and I was standing at the door way and I was watching her do things she does with me to the guy she was fucking when I caught her cheating. All the shit I thought she did only with me, I was watching her do with this other guy she barely knew. I don't know how well she knew him so I take that back. I was watching her have sex with this guy and she did nothing differently with him that she did with me. Sucked his dick the same, scratched his back the same.. Moaned the exact same.. She even called this nigga &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;daddy the same way.. I got&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;soooo fucking mad and this actually hurt more then walking in on her.. I got up and had her leave. I couldn't do it no more. I suppressed this for 2 years and it finally hit me while in the act. She didn't know what the hell was going on but.. I did.. YA GOTTA GO.. I gotta move on.. PEAAACE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;FOLLOW ME.. WWW.TWITTER.COM/EDOTDIZZ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-983765547642260917?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/983765547642260917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=983765547642260917' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/983765547642260917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/983765547642260917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/heart-left-at-scene-of-crime.html' title='Heart left at the scene of the crime...'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SltQmdLrucI/AAAAAAAAAQY/7p6cYra9mVg/s72-c/policetapeweb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3728260874921115918</id><published>2009-07-10T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T13:33:46.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fucking on the job..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SlelXj5Pf5I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/J-MNNHBl0MM/s1600-h/Sex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SlelXj5Pf5I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/J-MNNHBl0MM/s320/Sex.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356932105971400594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;We always flirt, ALWAYS..  Since I started working here a year ago, we been flirting. She a say lil slick shit but I never paid it any attention. Since she broke up with her boyfriend two months ago she been a lil more affectionate, if you wanna call grabbing my ass that.. We never exchanged numbers, never talked about meeting up outside of work to kick it, none of that. I mean I just respected the fact she had a man but I gues since they broke up, it was fair game. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Both working over night and it was dead as fuck! It was 4 people here including us. Since we both been working here for a minute, we knew where all the blind spots on the floor was, where people never went after a certain time, basically how to get away when on the clock. Whenever we worked together we use to spend our breaks together in the blindspot just talking about whatever. Today I felt was kinda different, she had been flirting with me super hard today and kept giving me that eye. I never actually had sex at my place of work before but I def wasn't scared though, just didn't have the opportunity. Our break was gone be very interesting. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat down in the aisle across from one another eating our 5 dollar foot longs we bought before Subway closed. 5 dolla! 5 dolla! 5 dolla foot lonnnng! My bad.. But she was telling me how she hasn't fucked in so long and it was starting to give her headaches. Me being a slick mouth bastard I replied "I got aspirin if you can swallow", after I said I laughed it off but she looked at me like nigga gimmie some. She wrapped her sub up and sat next to me and at this time I kinda wished I didn't say nothing cause if she touch me the right and wrong way, I'm a have to take her down in the cleaning aisle. She sat next to me and started telling me she started playing and whispering fuck me. It seems cheesy but she was fine as hell.. Anyway I took the magnum out my wallet and she unbuttoned her Dickie's. She unbuttoned mine.. WHY!? Well, I'm glad I didn't call in like I planned on doing.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after we looked around and giggled for the first two minutes.. We started.. I pulled her pants down and off one leg and I did the same for mine and bent her over the febreeze row. I slid inside and she instantly got super wet. I was soo fucking nervous that someone would come in and buy some fucking gilet candles at 3am. I started stroking and digging deep like we was in the comfort of our own home. She was moaning and shit, saying my name. She moaned deeper and harder after I thought I was already going in deep.. I started going ham as "quietly" as possible, seeing how we was still at work. I guess hit the spot cause she started knocking down candles and febreeze bottles. We couldn't help but to giggle and keep going. Fuck trying to speed it up, she was so fucking goooooood. She looked back with the sexy eye and bit her lip. That fucked me up cause I nutted like.. 30 seconds after that.  I started to go slower and she started to grind on it more. I hated that we had to stop. We was fucking for what seemed to be forever but was only for like 8 minutes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took the condom off and put it in some subway napkins. She pulled up her pants and started singing 5 dolla! 5 dolla! 5 dolla foot lonnnnng! We both laughed it off and put all the candles and frebreeze bottles back on the counter.. I sprayed one though cause it smelt like Badussy! Good badussy though.. I told her we had to finish it and she said yeah I know. "Your coming home with me once we clock out so don't be holla'n you tired." I instantly woke up! Threw the condom away, clocked back in and acted like nothing happen when the manager asked "Where the hell you been? Tuck ya damn shirt in!" I complied and went bout my way, anticipating getting off work.. BOW!! I love it!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Follow me, WWW.TWITTER.COM/EDOTDIZZY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yall better comment too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3728260874921115918?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3728260874921115918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3728260874921115918' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3728260874921115918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3728260874921115918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/07/fucking-on-job.html' title='Fucking on the job..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SlelXj5Pf5I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/J-MNNHBl0MM/s72-c/Sex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-9136762385819835780</id><published>2009-06-23T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T14:52:20.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuckery.. Confused women at its best!</title><content type='html'>A big ass question mark sits on top of my head when talking to some women. Today someone said that women are smarter then men for the simple fact they stay two steps ahead of them. Yet women always seem to be getting played and hurt and all this. If you was two steps ahead of the game you would have left or shitted on him before he had the chance. I guess women are two steps ahead of men only when emotions aren't involved. That makes me soo mad because it seem like women get "stupid" once love gets involved or they link love is involved. You got the girl who fall in love and then allow her bf to hit her or verbally abuse her but accepts it because "he loves her". Allows herself to get lied to, cheated on, etc because "he loves her".  Not all women do that because not all guys are like that. That makes me upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've ran into a lot of women who say "I'm a start fucking with females because niggas aint shit." That's the dumbest shit i've ever heard. What happens if you date a female and she cheats on you and shit just like a man does? Fyi, women are scandolous as well. If you think every female is single because of lying and cheating men then you're wrong. It's some dog dirty women out there. I've ran into them! I've never heard a guy say "man these bitches keep using me for my money and playing with my emotions so I'm a start fucking with niggas." That just aint right. In my mind something clicks that screams warning. You want attention soo bad you would date the same sex? Is it that bad? Really? I didn't know the dating scene was like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is news for women. A lil scret from DizZy.. A nigga only act stupid when you let him, a nigga only treat you like shit when allow him to treat you like shit. Women are soo tough when we meet them. They act all hard and all aware of what they think we want. Dick em down a few good times, look in their eyes all passionately and that shit go completely out the window. I don't know if its in all women but some of the women I've met do that. Its like women do anything for love. ANYTHING.. Lower their standards, get cheated on, get beat on and now DATE WOMEN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men lie yes.. but PEOPLE lie as a whole. It's not just a trait that only men have. I don't know why women think that. Its some dirt ball women out there, a lot of em. Idk. I just get mad when women make it seem like their the only ones that get hurt in this dating "game". Everyone gets hurt and thats why it sucks. Thats why it feels sooo good when you find someone who finally get you and respect you. If everyone was just so honest and open we would all be dating and all be happy and married but it don't work out that way! Some of you need to learn how to be happy alone before you try and get with a guy. He can't know and love you if you don't know and love yourself. If you haven't always been gay, don't start being gay to find love. Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-9136762385819835780?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/9136762385819835780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=9136762385819835780' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/9136762385819835780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/9136762385819835780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/06/fuckery-confused-women-at-its-best.html' title='Fuckery.. Confused women at its best!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3021717434278700456</id><published>2009-06-16T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T22:54:26.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuk this dating game bs</title><content type='html'>Heads up, I'm the jerk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop with this whole dating game bullshit! If you like someone, tell them and if someone tells you they like you tell them the truth! Its on them to accept it or not. We waste soo much time wondering if this person likes us, cutting off everyone else who really does like you. Speak your damn mind!  Being timid and shy gets you over looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If their is no connection, move the fuck on! No matter how many times you have sex with someone, the connection will not just appear.  Stop wishful dating. Stop wishing that somethin will spark and make the sparks yaself.  Back in the day we had the notes. Do you like me, circle yes or no. No maybes, idk, were too good of friends. None of that bull. Yes or no ma fucka, answer it so I can act accordingly. Do I stick around or get the hell on! If someone don't know if they wanna be with u or not... Move the fuck on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't put your heart at risk over someone elses confusion. Dating isn't a video game. Just be honest people and accept shit for what they are and not what you want them to be. Damn! Now let's lower the divorce rate! haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shouts to Emcee for making me write this. haha &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WWW.TWITTER.COM\EDOTDIZZY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3021717434278700456?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3021717434278700456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3021717434278700456' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3021717434278700456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3021717434278700456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/06/fuk-this-dating-game-bs.html' title='Fuk this dating game bs'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1507741766576447880</id><published>2009-06-15T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T09:17:37.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Myspace? wow!</title><content type='html'>So I'm looking at folks pages and I'm really impressed at how bad people try to appear as if their famous! I figured it out.. If a female has over 3,000 friends she think she a celeb and wants to be a model. With that said, she goes in the bathroom and take 100 pictures of her good side cause lord knows she doesn't have two good sides. Don't forget that the pics are from the neck up cause lowkey her body blaaah. Yall know what I'm talking about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you got the dudes with half naked pics squinting his eyes... Got the 3rd person bio on his page when we all know his goofy as wrote it himself. Come on, fa real though? Or the myspace thugs who make videos holding guns and flashing money... Real G's don't do that bruh, word of advice. Yall be the first to claim someone snitching wheb clearly you're broadcasting yall nickles and dimes on cam... Dumb ass!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, specially black women.. Their is no such thing as a rich model with a big ass and big titties. Victoria Secret has yet signed a thick model.. That's a one way streak to videos, bet movies and porn. Not being rude, just saying. That's why men look at yall the way they do because its like you're doing it just to entertain and tease them. Take the twerk team on youtube. They aint that good looking and when I see em I just wanna fuck. I don't want nothing else. Thick ass half naked chicks on myspace, I just want to fuck. nothing else. Women, ur doing the shit to yourself. Yeah guys only want to fuck because your always half dressed. It aint pocket science people!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every guy with a myspace music page will not be signed or even noticed. It takes more then a myspace page to get "on". Let's go people! Just cause you have 30,000 friends on myspace.. You're not cool in real life! I know I was being a jerk but its true. I love all my myspace friends even if they hate me haha!! Let's go people!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.twitter.com\edotdizzy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1507741766576447880?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1507741766576447880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1507741766576447880' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1507741766576447880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1507741766576447880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/06/myspace-wow.html' title='Myspace? wow!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2722515485586361264</id><published>2009-05-23T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T09:25:04.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is "Good Parenting"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;I've always wondered what certain parents do and certain don't do to have their kids turn out "bad." I'm scared of that the most with having kids, being a bad parent. I just know some people who kids are HORRIBLE! I hate the fact that as soon as people have kids they get stupid. Letting their kids curse, talk back, fight all that other shit... With no ass beating! I feel personally that if you make mistakes in life growing up and allow your kids to make the same mistakes then you fucked up as a parent. I know some folks who have dropped out of school and lived life struggling and then allowed their kids to drop out of high school and go through the same exact struggle. What is the sense of being a parent? When you raise your kids, what is your mission? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;Some parents say "I love my kids soo much. They mean the world to me" but don't take the proper steps in making sure they have a good future. Not warning them about the hardships, informing them on their options as far as college and all that.. Idk, I just hear parents saying they don't know how to talk to their kids about sex, drugs and other things but if you don't talk about it.. THEY WILL FIND OUT ABOUT IT! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;Apples don't fall to far from the tree but what if the tree rotten? I know some kids who are mirror images of their parents or one of their parents. Then I know kids who are exact opposites. Some kids look at their parents and say I don't want to be that and some kids look at their parents and see that as they only way they can be. Some kids are not informed about options and even if they are some kids don't care because they never see it. Kind of hard to tell a kid that the world can be yours when his or her whole family live check to check and never actually see someone successful. That's just my opinion. Question of the day is what are you going to do different with raising YOUR kids? I can't speak to much on this because I don't want any angry comments lol. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2722515485586361264?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2722515485586361264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2722515485586361264' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2722515485586361264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2722515485586361264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-is-good-parenting.html' title='What is &quot;Good Parenting&quot;'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1288664810269842201</id><published>2009-05-20T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T15:55:58.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is a fucking Recession?</title><content type='html'>I know I'm late fuck it, o well. The word recession means a period of reduced economic activity. That's what it says in webster. Well I was watching South Park and the shit made soo much sense but kinda pissed me off. I don't like to read about shit in the government because its always from someone elses point of view, never what it really is. This is my take on the whole recession situation. BULLSHIT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically people are scared to spend money because they don't know if they will get more of it. Jobs are firing people because people aren't spending money like they use to. So basically if people spend money, the jobs will hire people again and the recession will be over some what. I thought that the recession was something more but it really aint. I know a few folks who were fired from their jobs and I thought it was because of the recession. One got fired from walmart, not because of the recession but because he was late all the fucking time. One got fired from sprint because the person was always into it with the manager. One got fired because they failed a background check.. My uncle was fired from GM though. That was pretty fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends who have always been broke.. Are still broke. The folks I know that has always had a job.. Still have that job. They been making the same amount of money for a minute but all of a sudden they say their broke because its a recession. I think that we need to get out of that "its hard out here" mentality because the change always start with US. Shit will only get better if we make it better. Obama can't fix attitudes from the white house..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all from my point of view though. Don't want angry comments saying its more to it then what I explained. You know how yall do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1288664810269842201?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1288664810269842201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1288664810269842201' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1288664810269842201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1288664810269842201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-is-fucking-recession.html' title='What is a fucking Recession?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7277753321168913085</id><published>2009-05-18T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T08:21:16.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weed vS Alcohol.. Winner is.. WEED!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;So I was up at like 4 a.m. and knew I should have went to sleep instead of flipping through the channels because it always bug me out. You got the infomercials selling knives, the billion church joints.. Sidebar, what the hell is up with that white man as the preacher with the whole damn stadium full of people? Do they pass around the collection plate even when its thousands of people in attendance? Anyway.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;I see the new commercial where they in the taxis singing biz markie just a friend.. Drink responsibly is the slogan.. They don't mention how many accidents people die in because of drunk drivers naw, they singing in the car, having fun being drunk. Then I see the commercial where the kid is at a party and walks to the back room and his conscious talks to him about the good and bad about smoking weed. His dad on one shoulder saying is it worth making mom cry, basketball team saying is it worth it, a pizza guy saying it didn't effect me and so on.. Then I got mad because.. YES, I SMOKE WEED.. Well from time to time.. The most weed has ever done is made me hella hungry and hella sleepy which isn't bad. It didn't effect me graduating high school or college, my mom still loves me, and a pizza guy during this fucking recession would be a blessing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;Alcohol is waaay worse in soo many ways. I don't need to elaborate how I think drinking is worse then smoking weed. I just like how the government portrays it as "the gateway drug." My aunt has been smoking for like 25 years and didn't get into anything else. My Grandfather was drinking for 25+ years and died from cancer in his liver. I understand that they aren't making money from weed but please don't portray Alcohol as the accepted substance abuse. Get drunk, that's cool just get a tax and you'll be fine.. If you get high, you will drop out of high school, become a pizza guy and never amount to anything.. WTF? The way the world works is fucking amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;If they legalized weed do you think the commercials would change? Hell yeah lol! I'm not saying everyone should just smoke weed.. Just don't believe the hype with these commercials..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7277753321168913085?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7277753321168913085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7277753321168913085' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7277753321168913085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7277753321168913085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/05/weed-vs-alcohol-winner-is-weed.html' title='Weed vS Alcohol.. Winner is.. WEED!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5592312389814695875</id><published>2009-05-12T00:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T00:05:05.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing My Virginity.. (Not a poem, just written funny)</title><content type='html'>A lot of folks ask for was certain stories true so I decided to tell &lt;br&gt;about losing my virginity...&lt;p&gt;So I&amp;#39;m in California for the summer with my dad. He stayed on a military &lt;br&gt;base which was a new environment for me but I took it in and loved it. &lt;br&gt;My dad and step mom worked during the day and to prevent me from being &lt;br&gt;bored they told me I should hang out at the Youth Center (YMCA). Once &lt;br&gt;there, I finally get accepted into the in crowd. The new kid always gets &lt;br&gt;attention at first and I caught the attention of Myca (my-ka). She &lt;br&gt;wasn&amp;#39;t the cutest thing in the crowd but she was one of the coolest &lt;br&gt;females I&amp;#39;ve ever met.&lt;p&gt;Like 2 weeks passed and it was filled with kicking it with military &lt;br&gt;brats and enjoying the weather. One day they YC (youth center) had a &lt;br&gt;party. Everyone was there including Myca.. She was looking cuter then &lt;br&gt;she usually do so I gravitated towards her for some odd reason. I went &lt;br&gt;to use the bathroom and seen her kinda sad. I asked what was wrong and &lt;br&gt;she said her ex was there with his new girl. So I talked to her and &lt;br&gt;lifted her spirits and she then wanted to leave.. So I walked her home. &lt;br&gt;We walk to a house and I thought it was hers. She opened the door and &lt;br&gt;hugged me good night. She then raised her skirt and asked me did I like &lt;br&gt;her new panties. They were playboy bunny panties.. A thong. I said yeah! &lt;br&gt;The way she looked at me screamed FUCK ME! So I kissed her neck and she &lt;br&gt;pulled me closer and I started fingering her... It was on and cracking!&lt;p&gt;We went inside the house because me fingering her on the porch wasn&amp;#39;t &lt;br&gt;the smartest thing considering were on a military base with nosey &lt;br&gt;neighbors. So she throws me on the love seat and starts dancing for me. &lt;br&gt;LOVED IT! I take out the trojan that I stole from my dads bathroom &lt;br&gt;droor. She pulled my pants down and put my dik in her mouth. Mind you, &lt;br&gt;im basically a virgin lol. She was sucking my dik like a pro and I loved &lt;br&gt;it. She made me cum, swallowed it, and kept going. I was still taken &lt;br&gt;back by this and excited so keeping me hard wasn&amp;#39;t a issue. She put the &lt;br&gt;stolen Trojan on and sat on it. She was riding me and it was lovely! She &lt;br&gt;got up and laid on the floor and I got on top of her and went to stroke &lt;br&gt;town..  I came, I saw and I caame!&lt;p&gt;I get up, go to the bathroom and all that. Come out and see a pic of 2 &lt;br&gt;white people and ask her who they were. Come to find out it wasn&amp;#39;t her &lt;br&gt;house, she lived a couple houses down. She was dog sitting while they &lt;br&gt;were out of town which blew me cause she laughed after she said it. &lt;br&gt;Ironically she lived right up the street. Right next door to my dads &lt;br&gt;best friend.. So I walk in the house smelling like Badussy.. Guess who &lt;br&gt;sitting on the steps. MY DAD.. He asked me where I been and all that &lt;br&gt;shit and why was I smiling so hard. I told em out stealing from stores &lt;br&gt;or some slick shit. I ran up the steps but I know he smelled sex on me. &lt;br&gt;Once I got upstairs I realized that she was on some expert type shit. I &lt;br&gt;was only going to be a freshman and she was going to be a sophomore.. &lt;br&gt;She was experienced..  If you like that, wait till I post about our last &lt;br&gt;time before I left home. Owwwwwww&lt;br&gt;*DizZy*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5592312389814695875?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5592312389814695875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5592312389814695875' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5592312389814695875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5592312389814695875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/05/losing-my-virginity-not-poem-just.html' title='Losing My Virginity.. (Not a poem, just written funny)'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-4427450857093335960</id><published>2009-05-06T14:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T14:30:52.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Married? I think not. Fuck was you thinking?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All this is from my point of view and I really want to know women.. If you don't: Like having sex, enjoy giving head, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hold good conversations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, know how to cook, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;know how to be supportive&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.. How do you plan on getting married and KEEPING your man happy? This is a real question that I want answers too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Seems like a lot of women fell off on their wife game for my generation at least. This is coming from a man who wants to be married and have kids. I'm not just being a jerk right now. Ill save that for a later post. But I'm serious. When a man cheats its usually because he isn't getting what he wants out of the relationship. Save all the marriage isnt based off that comments because its bullshit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If a woman likes a man but he can't fuck and or his dick is small she won't fall in love with him. If he can't hold a good conversation then you shouldn't fall in love with him and if he don't support you with what you doing then why you love him? Stop thinking with your hearts for a second and think with ya brain. Would you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who couldn't fuck you like you want, support you like he should, or make you feel all googly inside? Lets be honest! FEEDBACK PLEASE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;p.s. peep the new blog. &lt;a href="http://www.frustrationsofanartist.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.frustrationsofanartist.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/edotdizzy"&gt;www.twitter.com/edotdizzy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-4427450857093335960?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/4427450857093335960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=4427450857093335960' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4427450857093335960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4427450857093335960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/05/married-i-think-not-fuck-was-you.html' title='Married? I think not. Fuck was you thinking?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1474292907864906930</id><published>2009-05-05T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T19:22:42.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Funny.. You Made it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;So I was talking to a female friend of mine like a week ago or so. I wanted to kick it with her and just chill. I don't know where her mind was but thats neither here or there. She came at me sideways and was like "I don't wanna kick it because I don't want to be the subject of one of your freaky blogs." It was funny because she was dead ass serious. I thought to myself, what in the hell makes you think your sex would be good enough to post about? I don't even post sex shit no more nor do I exploit women, wtf? I didn't even want to have sex, that's the funny part! Well congrats hun, you have been deleted out the phone and you made the blog.  Congratulations!!! Stupid ass..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1474292907864906930?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1474292907864906930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1474292907864906930' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1474292907864906930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1474292907864906930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/05/funny-funny-you-made-it.html' title='Funny Funny.. You Made it'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8060266112790368371</id><published>2009-04-30T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T08:54:49.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting the hint.. Need opinions.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Never been a big fan of "dating" for the simple fact it requires you to make yourself vulnerable to another person. Putting my heart in someone else hands never really sat well with me. Seems like the person you want to be with the most is the person giving you the most bullshit. I just have trust issues. People lie or they withhold information from you which is a form of lying in my opinion. If you aren't honest 100% then you really can't expect someone to be 100% with you. Just is what it is. I haven't dated in a long time so maybe I just expect shit to be easier then it really is. So can someone tell me who dates when do you decide if your wasting your time or not? When do you finally say, wait, I'm making a fool out of myself? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One thing that I see happening is that people EXPECT the other person to just know how they feel but they never say it. For example, 2 people been kicking it for a minute and the girl wants things to go to the next level but never says anything. Never voices her feelings to the guy so she in turn thinks the guy is bullshitting when he doesn't make it official. We not talking about that. We're talking about someone clearly voicing their feelings to the other person and getting no kind of response. It sucks from a guys stand point because when a guy likes a woman, he likes her. He stops talking to other females like that. Which is the hardest part of it all. Leaving behind other females for another female.. Trust me I know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On the outside looking in, you can always tell if someone else is being played or strung along but from the inside looking out, it ain't that clear. I'm starting to think that the whole putting your trust into someone shit is over rated. Why can't people be honest and why can't people accept the truth? Just tell the person if you don't fuck with em like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My question still remains, when do you finally get the hint that you should just move the hell on? Comment and let me know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8060266112790368371?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8060266112790368371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8060266112790368371' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8060266112790368371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8060266112790368371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/getting-hint-need-opinions.html' title='Getting the hint.. Need opinions.'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1345572375995921286</id><published>2009-04-22T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T18:18:49.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Venting.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;I normally try to keep my personal life to myself. I don't like venting because it seems like no one has answers but I'm a just post some of my thoughts and see what y'all think. Idk. If you relate.. Comment...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;Sometimes I wake up feeling okay then sometimes I wake up like what the fuck is the plan today? Filling out billions of applications and submitting this saaame fucking resume only to hear "we will be in touch." No the fuck you won't, who you think you fooling with that line? Then I got my music and I know I'm hot and I know I have what it takes to "make it" but in the back of my mind I know that shit ain't promised. So many fucking folks who produce, rap, sing, blah blah blah.. When do I stop "dreaming" and face reality that it just might not happen. Every time I put my head down in my hands from frustration, I see the stop sign on my forearm that reads "Never Stop Dreamin." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;When I was growing up, I always wanted to be a grown up. I wish my mom slapped me every time I said that. No one told me that life was fucked up lol. No one warned me of all the problems and worries that comes along with being an "adult." Shit slowly but surely caught up to my ass and hit me like a fucking freight train and I was looking around like daaamn, why wasn't I warned about this? I seen my mom stressed and depressed at times growing up but she never told me what was wrong.. She made things work for the better and that's what lets me know that I'll be aight if I just work hard at it but.. Damn, I would have liked a warning that life is a bitch! I heard that growing up but shit, I didn't give a fuck cause I ain't know what they meant. The only time life was a bitch for me growing up was when I couldn't go outside and play with my friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;Life always throw certain shit at you just to see how you handle it and if it breaks you, it breaks you.. If it makes you stronger then you get stronger.. My only problem is, I always think about why shit happened the way it did rather I'm stronger or weaker. That's one of my faults but no matter how much i try to change it.. I think about it. I want nothing but to live comfortably with a woman who can keep me smiling. I want to write and make music that uplift spirits and to let them know simply, you aren't alone. I don't need the gliss and glamour, I never been a show off mainly because I never had shit so I know how to appreciate shit that I do get. I learned that some moves I make will not be liked by certain people and that's only acceptable because, hell, that's life. People won't always like the things you do but if it makes sense at the end of the day, they will respect you for it. If not you can't do nothing but keep it moving. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;I'm not going crazy, my mind just racing. Its more venting just didn't want yall to think I'm on some other shit. But yall feel where I'm coming from though? Aw fuck it. Niggas never want to admit that life ain't going the way they want.. I've realized that haha. O wells. I'm alone with this one. Peaace!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1345572375995921286?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1345572375995921286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1345572375995921286' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1345572375995921286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1345572375995921286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/venting.html' title='Venting.'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-8689228093138982811</id><published>2009-04-15T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T17:20:53.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Time.. Sucks soo good</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SeZ5QxoI2XI/AAAAAAAAAMM/RP8BrHI0laU/s1600-h/lost_love.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325076938518747506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SeZ5QxoI2XI/AAAAAAAAAMM/RP8BrHI0laU/s320/lost_love.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;Walking to the mailbox at 8:49 p.m. Just got off work and kinda tired but gotta stay up and promote online. In walks "her".. My ex, we dated a lil while ago. What's crazy is, I just was thinking about her at work today. We been split up for a little over a year now. Haven't seen her in forever and she was looking good as hell! She looked up as she walked in and caught me staring and she smiled "Hey DizZy".. I almost melted but I had to keep it cool, "Wassup lil lady". Gave her a hug and she smelled exactly the same. All the memories came rushing back to me almost instantly. She hugged me and grabbed me a lil tighter then she use to and I grabbed her tight as well. So as we sized one another up since we haven't seen one another in soo long, I seen that she had a ring on her finger. My fucking heart sunk to my stomach. I asked her was she married now and she grabbed her hand and was like "Um, not yet".. She had this look she gave me when she was "hungry" and she just gave it to me. I had to be cool because I didn't know if she still moved the same. Asked her what she was doing in my neck of the woods seeing how she lives about 45 mins west of here. "I'm here to see my girl friend, she just moved upstairs a month ago and she wanted me to come see her spot.. So.. Here I am. What you doing though Mr. Dizzy, what you cook cause I'm hungry?" She then grabbed my keys and started walking to my apartment. I was a little lost so I watched her walk to my door, and walk in. Her ass has gotten soooo fat! But I gotta keep it cool. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;I walk in and she in my kitchen heating up some left overs. I was kinda mad because I had my mind set on eating that! "So how you been E? Seem like you kinda forgot about me. You never hit me up with a text, myspace message, facebook message or nothing. That's kinda fucked up.." She was smashing my food sitting on the counter looking up at me as if she wanted me to speak. Truth be told, I didn't have anything to say. She was right! We got into a heated argument and once she said we needed space, I went and got my space. "You never hit me up either so don't point fingers if you don't want any pointed at you. We aint perfect so don't talk like you perfect!" She replied "Fuck you DizZy, give me some juice before I die on this dry ass chicken you made." I smiled because I missed her fussing at me. I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle water and gave it to her. When she grabbed for it, I no longer seen her ring. I didn't question it at all, nor did I question when she was going to leave, I'm kinda glad she "popped up."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;She gets done and sit on the couch and turn on the tv. I stink from being at work all day so I tell her make herself at home, as if she already hasn't and I'll be in the shower. Back when we was dating, she would occasionally wait like 5 mins and jump in the shower with me. I was hoping shit didn't change so I left the door unlocked and waited.. I had to have waited like 10 mins before I got it in my mind she wasn't coming. I started to wash my face when she enters the shower with this expression on her face like "I missed you." So I looked her in her eyes and told her I missed you too.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;She grabbed my dick and looked at it for a second.. Turned my back to the shower head so she wouldn't get drenched, got down on her knees and sucked me slow. She then got super aggressive and sucked it harder and nastier then she has ever before. Caught me off guard but I loved it. I didn't want to nut so I forced her to get up and put on leg on the tub edge and I got down and ate dinner! She grabbed my head and moaned as I licked her pearl, sucked her pearl and stuck my tongue inside her. She started to shake just like old times and that's when I knew I was doing it right. She kept my head down there so I kept my face between her legs. She tasted so sweet.. As I tasted her, all the memories of us came rushing back and I started to feel stupid as fuck for ever letting her go. I got up and turned the water off. She stumbled into my bed room wearing a dry towel.. I walked in right behind her and she was laying on my bed, waiting. I climbed on top of her, kissed her then slid in. She grabbed my back with them damn nails but it felt so good. She gasped as if she has been holding her breath for minutes.. I took my time because I didn't know if I would have another chance with her again. It seem like we was going in slow motion and I was loving every bit of it. She pushed me off of her, turned over on all fours and I slid in again and banged it out! Grabbed her hair and smacked her ass just like she liked it. How do I know she liked it? BECAUSE SHE TOLD ME! I then turned her on her side and put it on her. She was making all types of faces and making all types of noises. I was just focusing on not nutting, it was too damn good. She screamed "I'm cumming daddy" and that's when I lost it.. I came too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I laid on my back, condom still on and everything. She laid on my chest and I dozed off. When I woke up she was in the bathroom fixing herself. I walked in the door way as she just stared herself in the mirror fixing lip gloss and all that good stuff. I looked at her hand and the ring was back on her finger. She looked at me with a look of, sadness. Its like we said soo much just then but no one said anything. I knew that she was getting married, I'm no dummy. Well I am for letting her go because I know she probably waited for me to come around after we had our space and I didn't come back. Some guy came along and filled my space and didn't waste time on making her his. "Dizzy, this was fun. I missed you, I hate you yet I love you more then anything. You just never came back and I had to move on." Kissed me on the cheek, told me she loved me and left. I didn't chase after her because I knew I was too late. My heart sunk to my stomach again because it hurt. So much that I damn ner cried... I guess from here on out, if I have something worth keeping.. KEEP IT! Damn.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?m1mnojhzohd"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Download DizZyaNa!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-8689228093138982811?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/8689228093138982811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=8689228093138982811' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8689228093138982811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/8689228093138982811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-time-sucks-soo-good.html' title='Last Time.. Sucks soo good'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SeZ5QxoI2XI/AAAAAAAAAMM/RP8BrHI0laU/s72-c/lost_love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3825308106210654730</id><published>2009-04-14T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T22:18:16.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a little fyi</title><content type='html'>These blogs are something I decided to do to connect to more people. I didn't know that soo many people would be drawn to my blog and literally begging me to write daily for their "fix"! I'm writing this to say thank you for reading!! Thank you for telling all of your friends about it. It means a lot to me and I don't take any of it to the head! Whenever someone hit me up and say they like my blog it makes my day. My only thing is, if I make music, its just the music version of my blog. A lot of the folks who read my blog haven't downloaded the mixtape and -I'm curious to know why. Leave a comment and tell me why because I'm curious.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um. Also, I'm working on DizZyaNa pt. 2 right now and this one will have hooks on it and I will release it once I get to 600 downloads and I need about 80 more downloads. This mixtape means a lot to me that's why im pushing it so hard. I appreciate all the folks who reviewed the mixtape on their blog, that shit helped a lot!! I love it!!! I need the same love for the second one! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work my ass off! I grind hard with this blog, music, networking, all dat good shit. I'm not a Hollywood kat, I don't take shit to the head. Seem like after awhile folks stopped commenting the blogs, hitting me up on aim and myspace. Lol, is it because I don't write about sex anymore? Daaaamn lol! That's fucked up haha!! Continue showing me love, I need that. I also know that some folks don't comment because they feel I get enough comments already... WHACK! Everyone says that and it leaves me with no comments or messages! I write for YOU so if YOU don't let me know you reading, I feel like YOU aren't reading but hey, its all good. I love the love you guys show me! I'm a keep doing what I'm doing! Show ya boy some love. -dizzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s. I wrote this from my sidekick so it might be all jumbled up and all over the place!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3825308106210654730?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3825308106210654730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3825308106210654730' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3825308106210654730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3825308106210654730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-little-fyi.html' title='Just a little fyi'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3549344047237089990</id><published>2009-04-13T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T18:38:57.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitter Sweet Memory..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;So we stopped talking, BEEEN stopped talking, maybe 2 years ago.. We haven't even spoke to one another. We both stubborn so when we fell apart I knew it was over even though I never wanted it to be fully over. We didn't even date, it was more like a silent agreement that I was yo nigga and you was my lil lady. I don't even know what happened but we gradually stopped talking. Well I deleted you from everything just so I wouldn't be tempted to hit you up or see you posting new pics on facebook with ya new boy friend. I didn't want to miss you basically..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Here we are two years later.. Haven't heard from you, haven't seen pics of you but sometimes thought about what if. What if we never stopped talking? Well I remember you use to come over with no pj's and when I wasn't looking, you would take a pair of my boxers and put them on and bundle under the covers so I wouldn't notice. Petty but cute, I always thought it was funny. After awhile, you wore the same ones over and over. After we stopped talking, subconsciously, I never wore them. They became the "laundry boxers". The ones I wore when I didn't have any more. One day, my new girl came over and ended up staying late. She didn't have any pj's so while I was in the kitchen cooking, she took a pair of my boxers, got in the shower, got out and got bundled up under the covers. I told her the food was done and she popped from under the covers wearing the same ones you use to wear... Right then I started missing you like fucking crazy and I just smiled. It was just random and odd to me that out of all the boxers, she picked yours and did the same thing you did. I guess I can't forget about you no matter what.. It's all good, I needed that smile. -DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?m1mnojhzohd"&gt;DOWNLOAD DIZZYANA NOW!!!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3549344047237089990?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3549344047237089990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3549344047237089990' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3549344047237089990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3549344047237089990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/bitter-sweet-memory.html' title='Bitter Sweet Memory..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1081010942846209466</id><published>2009-04-11T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T19:21:44.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Catch.. Dumb ass!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;I just got in a heated argument just now with a friend over some bs! She was telling me I was scared of commitment because my longest relationship wasn't actually long at all it was 3 or 4 months, I think. I don't really remember. I haven't been in a relationship in almost three years. Damn, that's long! Her longest relationship was 4 or 5 years and she loovvvvved this guy to death. She thought they would be together for ever, hell I did too low key. Well long story short, they broke up and she is single again. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;This is where the argument starts! She saying that I'm scared of commitment which is not the case because I commit to a lot of stuff. I can't think of any right now but, I do! LMAO!! I just have a low tolerance for bullshit, very low tolerance. Her and her ex has been dating for bout five years but was more off then on for the last two years of the relationship. She has come to me for more advice then I feel one should and still consider the relationship to be "healthy". So in the past 5 years I have dated maybe 5 girls to her 1 guy but at the end of it all.. WE BOTH STILL SINGLE!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;People, stop holding onto your past relationships as a trophy or something because you only look foolish. Yeah you have had a long relationship but your still single at the end of the day. If it appears that I'm scared of commitment, I look at it as your scared of being alone. Take it how you want haha but that's how I feel. How you like them apples!! What yall think though?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?m1mnojhzohd"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Download DizZyaNa Now!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1081010942846209466?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1081010942846209466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1081010942846209466' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1081010942846209466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1081010942846209466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/catch-dumb-ass.html' title='The Catch.. Dumb ass!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-6390255627456235324</id><published>2009-04-11T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T16:32:28.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Many fucking options!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;I just realized that most of my friends are single and HATE it! But I also realized that people are single because they have too many options! Bare with me now, don't get mad. If a girl has guys coming at her allllll day every day, she loves being single because she knows that at any point she can get almost any man she want. If she don't have options though, she hates being single. Guys with options I don't really know. I think a guy with NO options stay single because they feel like one day they will have options and don't want to fuck it up. A guy with a slew of women seem to be wifed up and it only draws him more attention from women. Its funny to me how it works but it just seem to be like that. Where do you fit? Why is everyone single though? I find it hard to believe that everyone on some other shit. Who knowz!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?m1mnojhzohd"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Download DizZyana Now!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-6390255627456235324?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/6390255627456235324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=6390255627456235324' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6390255627456235324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6390255627456235324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/too-many-fucking-options.html' title='Too Many fucking options!?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1456646887543676534</id><published>2009-04-09T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T14:00:44.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Her addiction... The Socialite</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;I didn't realize she was this addicted to it when we first met. I mean, I knew that she liked to do it but never knew it would interfere with our friendship/relationship. Every time I would try to set up a date or something she couldn't fall through with it because she had "prior engagements". I always knew what that meant, she was getting high. Almost every night she was high! I didn't know people got high on Mondays and Tuesdays. I finally confronted her about it and she brushed me off as if i was blowing it out of proportion. She always hit me with the, "I'm young, i have my whole life ahead of me, stop acting as if your my dad." I never understood how she became like this. She use to be such a sweet girl until she was exposed to her new found addiction. Her favorite drug dealers is Onyx, Velvet Room, Platinum 21, Studio 72, Dreamz, and The Compound! She is addicted to the club life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;She club hops nightly, her and her fellow addicts. She was the silent type in school, real pretty but very seclusive but get a few shots in her and play "She Got A Donk", she all on the bar poppin her ass! Never was the fighting type, you cut her in line at the bank, she don't mind.. You cut her in line at the velvet room and she ready to knock ya head off. I asked her why she go out so much, she shrugged and said "I do it because it I kinda get a rush." I then replied and asked her do she ever get bored drinking the same drink, listening to the same songs and seeing the same faces.. She looked at me puzzled and said "um, no. Well sometimes but what else is it for me to do?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;She is down on life because every man she dates is a jerk and she can't meet nothing else but jerks because every man she meet is always in the clubs. The guys she do meet who aren't party animals and socialites, she doesn't pursue them because they seem to be "lame". School is fucked up because she doesn't know where she will get the money from for her last 3 semesters. Her boss is a bitch because he cut down her hours and the only thing that gets her feeling like everything is okay is going to the club, taking a few shots and forgetting all about it.. Until 4:00 a.m. The club closes at 3 am, she lingers around the parking lot with her other fellow addicts until they rally up more addicts and go to waffle house. Everyone eats and as she leaves and drives up 20, she realizes her life is still FUCKED! Better The Velvet Room then Crack or alcohol huh? Depends on who you ask. -DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?m1mnojhzohd"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;Download DizZyana Now!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;------------ Click to download&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1456646887543676534?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1456646887543676534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1456646887543676534' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1456646887543676534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1456646887543676534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/her-addiction.html' title='Her addiction... The Socialite'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3540616428128426096</id><published>2009-04-07T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T12:32:09.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Social Network? Fuk all of em!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SdupWF4WVkI/AAAAAAAAAME/P7jWgagHzbk/s1600-h/social-networks-list.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 282px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SdupWF4WVkI/AAAAAAAAAME/P7jWgagHzbk/s320/social-networks-list.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322033581669111362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;Over the past 8 years, social networks has taken over peoples lives, literally. I took the time to break down each of them and why people seem to be so attached to them.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BlackPlanet..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt; First social network I ever joined was blackplanet. A simple page to let the world know who you are. Blackplanet was easy, simple and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;trashy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;! If you met anyone from blackplanet it was on some sex shit! I feel like the soul purpose of this network was to meet folks online and fuck but that's just me. I didn't have a digital cam to take pics and didn't know how to do html so my page was on some whack shit, I got no play.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;NO PIC NO RESPONSE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt; haha!! I met a bunch of yahoo messenger buddies from BP though, I enjoyed it for what it was and what i got out of it. Nothing to major..&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myspace..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; became rappers because of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt; Myspace was the next social network I joined. It was an upgrade from Black Planet. I don't feel it was trashy like bp. I finally got a digi cam so I had pics and what not. It's too easy to find people on here! Folks I haven't seen in years and didn't want to see found me on myspace.  I liked the fact that it was more business handled on here. If you had a company or was trying to network and get people to know about what it is you do, you could do it on myspace and that was cool up until the influx of fucking RAPPERS! Toooo many ma fuckasmyspace. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;IF YOU NEVER RECORDED A SONG BEFORE MYSPACE POPPED UP OR YOU BECAME A RAPPER IN 2004-05, AND YOUR OVER THE AGE OF 23, YOUR A FUCKING JOKE! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; why I signed up for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;It was too easy for someone to just record a song, post it on myspace, take a few pictures and be a rapper. Bitch you ain't a rapper and that'sFacebook. So I don't have to deal with all the rappers, the snooping around, the drama. Myspace became about musicians, old friends popping up, and who has the most friends..&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facebook..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt; When facebook came around, it was exclusive. You had to approve someone for them to see all your info and what not. That was cool. It was more laid back and more casual then myspace and BP. It was less drama and bullshit.. Until everyone got on there and they changed the layout. Now its just too much!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;If you don't want everyone in your buisness, DON'T GET FACEBOOK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;. I don't sit on there and snoop around on pics, wall posts, status updates, that's just not me but.. I've seen many people just sit on there and click pictures, see who tagged in the pic, add the person tagged in the picture, write on their wall and befriend someone on the strength of being nosey. If that wasn't enough, you get an influx of messages from, not rappers, but party and club promoters. I don't know how the fuck they send me messages, I don't know how to stop them from coming. I'm tired of the drama that comes with facebook. All the nosey ma fuckas who get a kick out of snooping around, I let them have it. I no longer upload pics, add females that I date, write on peoples wall. I just use it to showcase my music and blog.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twitter..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt; Twitter is bullshit. It's an instant messenger that isn't so instant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;The site always fucking up and its becoming a competition on who can have the most followers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; It's status updates only. No pics, and you can't send long messages. Bullshit. "Let me tell people what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;I'm doing at all times" is what I think the site is about. I only like it because I can tell people when I drop new music and a new blog. Other then that, I prefer instant messaging then to tell people what I'm doing at all times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;I have only signed up for these four social networks. I signed up for them for promo use for music and blogs. I don't care to keep up with people and what their doing because I'm just not that kind of person. I'm not knocking anyone who love these networks, do ya thang. I sometimes hate the fact that people have relied on the Internet to meet friends and lovers. Some people can't even talk to you in person but if you get online, they can talk yo ears off. The Internet has killed public speaking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;It gives people a false security and allow them to just talk and not worry about being rejected in person. Some people are totally different online then they are in person and look totally different online then they do in person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" &gt;We gotta stop relying on these mediums to meet people and to have a social life. Just cause you have 20,000 friends on myspace don't mean you have 20,000 friends in the real world.. We are still living in the real world right? -DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3540616428128426096?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3540616428128426096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3540616428128426096' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3540616428128426096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3540616428128426096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/04/social-network-fuk-all-of-em.html' title='Social Network? Fuk all of em!!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SdupWF4WVkI/AAAAAAAAAME/P7jWgagHzbk/s72-c/social-networks-list.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7356155724480906170</id><published>2009-03-28T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T10:15:57.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think like a nigga so you wont get played like a bitch? Really?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;So I was talking to someone and she said "I think like a nigga so I don't get played like a bitch." That has to be the DUMBEST thing I have ever heard in my damn life! For all the women that think like this, KILL YA SELF!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;First, how do men think? You mean to tell me you have evaluated every man in the world and think like us? I know some guys and I be like, "what the fuck were you thinking." Not all men think alike. Also, if you think like a man, you wont get played like a bitch because NO MAN LIKES A WOMAN TO THINK LIKE A MAN, that's GAY! I personally don't want a woman who thinks like a man cause a lot of men don't be thinking about shit. I always looked at women to be smarter then men in every aspect except love. Even the smartest women appear to be the dumbest person in the world when it comes to dealing with men. I don't think you have to think like a man, just think period!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;Some women get some good dick and a mediocre conversation and their intelligence flies out the window. They become a whole nother person for the most part. I don't know why that is but I sure wish it wasn't like that. But thinking like a man isn't how you fix that problem. The world would end if all women thought like men. Ugh, that a be horrible. Who ever thought of that quote was dumb as fuck. Why would you stoop down to think like a man to keep from getting hurt? Not saying us men are stupid, not at all, but when you say that that's the impression I get. Women, just be more careful who you talk to and lay with. Just think period, not like man. Peace. -DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7356155724480906170?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7356155724480906170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7356155724480906170' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7356155724480906170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7356155724480906170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/think-like-nigga-so-you-wont-get-played.html' title='Think like a nigga so you wont get played like a bitch? Really?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5231785437816274217</id><published>2009-03-25T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T17:00:19.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The dumb shit that comes along with.. dating?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;You like this girl but she not into you %100 because she like this guy, who in turn doesn’t like her because he like some other girl who don’t like him because she is stuck up under some other guy. It’s like an endless cycle of heartbreaks. No one wants to give their all because they don’t want to be the first person that slips and fall into this dark place often called love. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no love hater but love always seems like a dark and cold place when you’re the first person to fall. Even though you fell in love with a person, you still feel alone, foolish, hopeful and regretful. You two aren’t together but you would like to be. Even though nothing is official, you’re in love. Not knowing what the other person is doing or feeling because no matter what they tell you, you still feel like they are leaving something out or lying. You don’t want to appear to be the fool that falls for the person who doesn’t feel the same way about you. You wish you can control your feelings but you can’t. You find yourself thinking about this person at odd times and making future plans when you don’t even know what the future beholds with that person. It’s like your living in a fantasy world dating this person in your head thinking that the person is going to just wake up one day and say, “I want to be with you.” That’s probably not going to happen but who are you to say fuck it only to talk to someone else and go through the exact same shit? You always seem to find the person who doesn’t want to date, who is living life, or talking to someone else. Fucking sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you to do? I mean, if you say fuck it, you will be alone… AGAIN! Stuck questioning yourself like, “what the fuck is wrong with me” when there isn’t really anything wrong with you. You seem to always come across the scum bags. Your pride won’t allow you to settle for less then what you deserve so you pass up all the small fries that try to approach you. Days turn to months, months turn to years then you realize that you are and have been single for what seems like fucking forever! And don’t get me wrong, its folks in relationships who still feel like they are single. The communication died months ago, the sex isn’t as good as it use to be, the future plans you planned seem fuzzy on certain days but you stay in the relationship because you are comfortable. What do I suggest we do about this? Hell, I don’t know. *Shrugs*.. I’m about to sleep on this shit. Peace.. -Dizzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5231785437816274217?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5231785437816274217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5231785437816274217' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5231785437816274217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5231785437816274217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/dumb-shit-that-comes-along-with-dating.html' title='The dumb shit that comes along with.. dating?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2873939022129471722</id><published>2009-03-20T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T15:49:50.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Break Hotel...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScP7p6nU9hI/AAAAAAAAALM/A5kgpHbruRA/s1600-h/artwork_images_220_124806_raymond-leech.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315368682754733586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScP7p6nU9hI/AAAAAAAAALM/A5kgpHbruRA/s320/artwork_images_220_124806_raymond-leech.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScP4po4dYmI/AAAAAAAAALE/QVchBTFGUmQ/s1600-h/HeartBreakHotel.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;"&gt;I mean, I always knew we weren’t official but sometimes it felt like it. We weren’t anything now that I think about it. We didn’t talk that much, if we did it was small talk. You came over every once in awhile and we a kick it. Watch a movie, talk, have sex, nothing too special but to me, it was special. You told me about your ex and how you didn’t want to get back with him and how he was a whack ass nigga, blah blah blah. I really wasn’t trying to hear about him, shit wasn’t any of my concern. He was in the past and you was here with me now.&lt;br /&gt;We never set a ground from jump like most people do. You know how a guy say, “naw I don’t want a girlfriend” or how a female say “I’m enjoying the single life so I’m not looking for anything serious” yeah all that bullshit folks say to fuck up the other persons mind frame; we skipped all that. So we were kicking it and I guess I caught feelings. Didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to. No disclaimer not to. We were good, I thought.&lt;br /&gt;In my mind, we were good.  It’s been like six months and we been kicking it good. I didn’t think I was doing a bad job of keeping her occupied till I seen her and her ex at the mall all cuddled up and shit. I seen em and walked past the both of em. I suddenly got sick to my stomach and got agitated because I feel like I have been lied to and manipulated for the past couple months. I felt stupid for believing that I could actually try and date again or at least be serious about someone. As I walked through the mall I suddenly lost the urge to buy whatever I came here to buy. I thought about all the times she laid on my chest looking up smiling and kissing me. All the shit I thought was leading to something, which wasn’t shit. Silly me, guess I have to charge it to the game. Skuze me madam, can I get a room in this heartbreak hotel? I’ll only be staying for two nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2873939022129471722?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2873939022129471722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2873939022129471722' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2873939022129471722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2873939022129471722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/heart-break-hotel.html' title='Heart Break Hotel...'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScP7p6nU9hI/AAAAAAAAALM/A5kgpHbruRA/s72-c/artwork_images_220_124806_raymond-leech.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-4558303690638999142</id><published>2009-03-18T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T11:41:49.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-Untittled- the confession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScEpAkdU-pI/AAAAAAAAAK8/8aQvQthv0gk/s1600-h/rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314574125037320850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScEpAkdU-pI/AAAAAAAAAK8/8aQvQthv0gk/s320/rose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; I never meant things to end up like this. I mean, I love you. We are a couple.. Maybe we just a couple of kids who was tired of being single and wanted someone there for a change. Maybe we are a couple of kids who are really meant to be. Who knows?? Well I have a confession, I cheated. But let me explain please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first got together I seen a common goal, I seen the big picture. It was me and you and I seen where we was going. We had a common ground. It was soo refreshing to have you by my side and there for me. We use to do everything together. The connection was just better. Then one day the beautiful image I had of us got fuzzy. It’s almost like watching a rose die. I know that the rose use to be a beautiful flower and as it dies, I have the pedals on the floor but the memory of it being beautiful still lives in my head. So when I hinted to you that things were changing, you brushed me off as if I was making it up so my efforts to bring the connection back were going unnoticed because you had it in your head that we were fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of feel like once you got me you slowly started to fall back. You got comfortable basically. So when I met “the other woman” she did things that you use to do but stopped. It was honestly nothing at first till we started talking all the time. We laughed at shit me and you use to laugh at. We talked about things you and I use to talk about and it was refreshing. I would never just cheat to sleep with someone, it wasn’t about that. When I meet women in my mind I always see us, what we planned, and the big picture but when I met her and tried to picture us, it was fuzzy. It was unclear. That picture always kept me from doing anything but now that the picture is fuzzy, I have no block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I reminded me so much of us and I couldn’t resist it. It’s like the rose was coming back to life in a way. She kissed me with the same passion you use to kiss me with. She took control just like you use to do when we first made love. When I slid inside her she gasped just like you use to do. She scratched my back and moaned my name just like you did. She sucked my dick and loved it just like you use to do. I tasted her forbidden fruit and she grabbed my head and moaned just like you use to do. After we did what we did I went into the bathroom to get myself together. I looked into the mirror and tried to see the picture of us and I still seen a fuzzy picture. I wanted us back and I couldn’t seem to reach out to you to get you to understand. Is what I did wrong, yeah but do I feel guilty, no. I tried to get back what we had, I attempted to and you were absent. I didn’t “cheat” you did. You got me then fell back and comfortable it seems like, that’s not playing fair. I don’t know if you will forgive me and right now I don’t know if I want you to… Ttyl. Peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-4558303690638999142?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/4558303690638999142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=4558303690638999142' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4558303690638999142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4558303690638999142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/untittled.html' title='-Untittled- the confession'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/ScEpAkdU-pI/AAAAAAAAAK8/8aQvQthv0gk/s72-c/rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3772047619753859622</id><published>2009-03-17T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T17:31:22.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirsty! On the quest for the G!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sbb9fDyaSNI/AAAAAAAAAKk/XLkR5BD6hOI/s1600-h/GatoradeA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311711520564594898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sbb9fDyaSNI/AAAAAAAAAKk/XLkR5BD6hOI/s320/GatoradeA.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had this friend back when I first started college. He was a cool cat, we just so happen to be from the same place which is weird because I don’t meet a lot of folks from Indiana in Atlanta and here he is, my roommate in college. Everything was cool until we started going out, that’s when I seen the real side of this nigga. And don’t be looking at me weird cause I called him a nigga, HE WAS! Anyway, the dude had to holla at every girl that we seen. Everything he did was for a female. EVERYTHING! And that was a problem for me because I was with him and they probably thought I was just as thirsty as he was but that was definitely not the case. When we got ready to go out, he would get dressed like a woman. Try on a billion shirts and check his self out in the mirror. Rotate his hat on his head to get it jussssst right. One day we was walking around the complex we stayed in and he tried to get at this one female, I admit, she was fine as hell. He spoke to her “Wassup shawty, what’s good with you?” That was definitely not the correct way to approach this one, as soon as he said that she screwed her face up as if he spit in her kool aid. She brushed him off and kept walking, he got mad and yelled out “fuck you den bitch, you aint that fine anyway!” That nigga lying, she was fine as hell. Just at that moment I realized that he was no longer thirsty, this nigga was on the quest for the G!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got this female friend who appears to be this hard working woman who is sooo caught up in school and work that she can’t have a relationship. Well that’s the impression she gave off when I first met her. I was wrong; she lives for attention from a guy. She goes to the clubs and if a guy shows a hint of interest, she devotes all her time to him and forgets that she came to the club with her home girls as a girls night out. I knew she was thirsty when she started getting dumb about the guys she dated and the things she did. She was just trying to find love too much instead of enjoying things like a normal person. She thought every guy she ran into was prince charming and that was not the case. It’s like, she is the smartest person I know, if not the smartest person I know but when it comes to guys, she is just… Stupid. You would think that a person like her wouldn’t chase guys or be so naïve about certain shit because of her brains and from past guys fucking up. But it’s like the person who surfs and gets bit by a shark and instead of surfing in a different spot or being more careful, they heal and go right back to the same exact spot and surf. She in my books is dehydrated and on the quest for the G!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure all of you have a friend or know someone that is just super dehydrated and needs to get on the quest for some G! HAHA! That’s Gatorade for the slow folks. Everything in life shouldn’t revolve around the opposite sex in my opinion. It should revolve around you! Maybe they had some issues growing up, wasn’t getting enough love or something. If that’s the case or not, they still a tad bit thirsty. Try and guide these people. Let them know, especially the thirsty fellahs, you make females not want to come out the house no more!! They walk around with their phone up to their ear as if they are holding a conversation with someone but in actuality they not. They just trying to ignore all the thirsty ass niggas they attracting. Guys grab ass, call names, grab arms, stalk, all types of crazy shit to get a woman’s attention. That’s another note in itself. Everyone do me a favor, STOP BEING SO DAMN THIRSTY!!! I’m gone, peace. -DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3772047619753859622?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3772047619753859622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3772047619753859622' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3772047619753859622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3772047619753859622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/thirsty-on-quest-for-g.html' title='Thirsty! On the quest for the G!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sbb9fDyaSNI/AAAAAAAAAKk/XLkR5BD6hOI/s72-c/GatoradeA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3919403347719618887</id><published>2009-03-15T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T01:11:56.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When He Comes Back...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sb4JsUwvZMI/AAAAAAAAAK0/bM_Vc-IcnZE/s1600-h/Hands.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313695267435799746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sb4JsUwvZMI/AAAAAAAAAK0/bM_Vc-IcnZE/s320/Hands.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never knew what girls were talking about when they say that their ex’s always come back. I never had a girl friend to go back to, well there is YOU. So here is my explanation on why I came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I never went anywhere. When we met, I thought I knew what I wanted and you were that. It’s just that I wasn’t really ready for the commitment. All my previous relationships were whack. Things never worked out how I thought they were but we worked out and I honestly felt like it was too good to be true. So I fumbled and I apologize. It was the perfect situation just the timing was horrible. I was young. I told you that I wasn’t ready for a relationship at the time and I meant that. Here it is I haven’t had a girl in almost 3 years. Since you.. You swore that I was going to be in a relationship before you but that was false because you’re in a relationship and have been for a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never intended to make it seem as if I wanted you to drop everything and be with me. I just told you that when I was ready, I was gone let you know, and I did. I apologize if the timing was bad on my part but I’ve always loved you and still miss the small things about you. Like your smile, the way you say my name, holding your hand and the way you hug me. I wanted that back. It’s not like I was dating a girl and it didn’t work out and I want you back. Umm.. No! I haven’t dated or gotten remotely close to a female since us. I haven’t tried because I kept that promise to you that when I was ready; I was going to come back to you. I came back, and you weren’t able to completely come back to me. It’s cool. No love lost. I just know that the next time I fall, I’ll be sure to make sure I keep it no matter what. I love you, and I apologize for making it hard on you. Wish you and him the best. -DizZy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3919403347719618887?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3919403347719618887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3919403347719618887' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3919403347719618887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3919403347719618887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-he-comes-back.html' title='When He Comes Back...'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sb4JsUwvZMI/AAAAAAAAAK0/bM_Vc-IcnZE/s72-c/Hands.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2272184265328105925</id><published>2009-03-10T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T14:29:25.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#1 Rule When it comes to dating</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sbb67zBhvfI/AAAAAAAAAKc/_HGx-uJi2Ac/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311708715745918450" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 289px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sbb67zBhvfI/AAAAAAAAAKc/_HGx-uJi2Ac/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The #1 rule in dating is, don’t follow any fucking rules!! There are no rules; there is no dating regiment that was made hundreds of years ago. Everything you think is right about dating came from someone else who tried it and it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole females not calling rule or the three day rule. Bullshit. Waiting to have sex with someone, Bullshit. Now don’t raise your eyebrow about that. If you’re going to have sex with someone, ladies especially, if he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t interested in having a relationship with you or taking it to the next level but wants to have sex with you, he will fake being interested long enough to have sex with you and then fall back. So actually, waiting to have sex is a dumb idea because you’re only getting more interested in this guy and involving more emotions when he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t. If you would have had sex with him the first week and he fell back then at least you spared your emotions. Not saying you should just fuck every guy you meet, oh no! Just saying waiting to have sex &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t always end on a good note. The whole asking your girl friend for advice ladies is also the dumbest thing you can do. Unless your girl friend has been married twenty years and have a good dating rap sheet, if she does, then ask away. Chances are she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t so you’re taking advice on how to be happy with a guy from a female who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t have a guy to be happy with. The whole rule that the guy has to pay for the dates is just stupid to me. If you want to go out, then go out even if you have to pay for it. When you see how much “dating” cost you realize how much he put out just to make YOU happy. Trust, some guys prefer home cooked meals over going out. It’s cheaper and more intimate. Some guys prefer a Blockbuster night over going to the movies. It’s cheaper and more intimate, and you can TALK and get cozy with the shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guys, you’re not exempt from the rule shit either. Some guys believe that if a female sleeps with you the first night, she is a hoe. Dude, YOU’RE A HOE TOO; you slept with her as well so kill that. Stop with the insecurity, if she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t like you she just don’t like you. If she is going to cheat, she is going to cheat no matter how much you play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;robo&lt;/span&gt; cop. Checking her phone is not cool; kill that parole officer mind state. Talk more; tell a female EXACTLY how you feel even if it’s kind of bad. Communication is important to a lot of females. Stop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; and emailing them when you can call, I fall victim to that some times. Stop thinking that if you get with a female, that you’re going to miss out on the other billion women in the world. News flash, they don’t want you. Yeah you will be missing out on having sex with other women but that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; shit. You can always teach dog new tricks, always. They have enough toys, positions, places to fuck, and lube to make sex great. So if you find a girl who you connect with and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t mind being with, see how much fun you guys can have by trying some new shit. The other billion women in the world will not put up with your shit so if you find love. KEEP IT! That shit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t come around often. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There are no rules to dating. Just be smart about some things. Don’t be naive and dumb founded at the fact he or she MIGHT be the one. Have fun, dating is supposed to be fun and exciting. Whenever dating becomes about headaches and stress, LEAVE IT. I’m out. -&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2272184265328105925?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2272184265328105925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2272184265328105925' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2272184265328105925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2272184265328105925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/1-rule-when-it-comes-to-dating.html' title='#1 Rule When it comes to dating'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sbb67zBhvfI/AAAAAAAAAKc/_HGx-uJi2Ac/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-4028740965234909465</id><published>2009-03-10T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T14:36:06.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When keeping it real goes wrong….</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SbbcT10_sRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/biffVkxm634/s1600-h/truth_000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311675043955061010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SbbcT10_sRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/biffVkxm634/s400/truth_000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We always think that we want to hear the honest truth from day one. So, for males and females… How does this sound?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hey how you doing? My name is _______. I’m 21 and a college student. I would like to get your number and text you instead of actually talking, therefore I can text multiple women at the same time and still handle my daily business. I will lie to you and tell you that I’m busy when I’m really not, I just don’t want to show you too much attention just yet because I’m still fucking my ex and talking to another female as well. Matter of fact, we probably won’t ever be together no matter what you do because I am not completely over my ex and I think that if we date, I’ll be missing out on all the other women in the world. If we do start kicking it hard, you probably will get on my nerves and I’ll back off and blame school work and life for me being so distant. Instead of telling you that we will never be together, ill lead you on to think that maybe one day we will so we can continue to have sex. To be completely honest, I’m not attracted to YOU per say, just your beauty. The conversations we have had thus far haven’t been that interesting but I would love to have sex with you. So umm, what do you say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey, how you doing? My name is _________. I’m 22 and a college student. I really don’t want to give you my number because I know you’re going to text me all the damn time talking about nothing. I’m not really interested in you to be honest. I have a guy I’m sort of keeping around for my entertainment and his sex is great so, there are no openings. You’re going to ask me when can we kick it but I’ll lie to you and say that I’m busy when I be at home just watching TV and studying or better yet, fucking the guy I keep around for entertainment. You will text me but it will be times when I don’t respond to you because you’re not talking about shit but I’ll tell you that my phone was fucked up or something. You’ll believe me because you’re stupid and thirsty, just like most guys. If I do come to you and fuck, it will be because my entertainment is getting on my nerves or he is busy and I need to get a nut off. If I spend the night, it’s only because I don’t feel like driving back home. No you can’t come over my house. I don’t want you knowing where I live just in case I drop your ass cold turkey. Don’t want you in my bushes. We probably won’t ever be together because I’m not completely over my ex and I honestly just aint feeling you like that. So yeah, you can have my number if you want. :D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yup, that’s about right. Peace. -DizZy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-4028740965234909465?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/4028740965234909465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=4028740965234909465' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4028740965234909465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/4028740965234909465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-keeping-it-real-goes-wrong.html' title='When keeping it real goes wrong….'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SbbcT10_sRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/biffVkxm634/s72-c/truth_000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2493810751538789460</id><published>2009-03-06T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T18:23:54.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty Pleasure...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SbHHHXRhjHI/AAAAAAAAAKM/gZ9Xrq9v0IY/s1600-h/Guilty+Pleasure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 466px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SbHHHXRhjHI/AAAAAAAAAKM/gZ9Xrq9v0IY/s400/Guilty+Pleasure.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310244364967054450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and you met through a close friend of mines. I'm sure you two had plans on getting closer and dating and I was all for that until we started talking. With you and him "dating" it left room for us to just talk with no worries of one another judging. We kicked it and had fun, like friends do. It just seemed like the more and more we talked and kicked it the more and more we became interested in one another. When he fucked up, you came to me and told me how much you hated talking to guys because you was always left hurt. A month of you two talking seemed like 3 months of talking for me and you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you two stopped talking, the more and more we began to kick it. Still no sex, still no kissing. Just great conversations and kicking it. So we plan to go to the movies, its not a date, just a movie. We go out to eat, no date, just dinner. You spend the night, no cuddling, you just didn't feel like driving home afterward. So we laying in the bed and were talking and laughing, joking, not caring about a thing. What we have is, in my mind, genuine. I love it. So we go out to eat more often, no dates, just dinner. Go to the movies, no date, just a movie until we go to the park and hold hands. Then, things switched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kissed and started being more affectionate. Started going about things as if we were a couple. Were not suppose to be doing this is whats going on in the back of my mind but its been so long that I had something like this and I don't want it to end. It's been so long since Ive had something this real and this exciting.  REFRESHING.. But we don't take it there because you feel as if you will be looked at a certain way. You don't want to cross that line because its "wrong". You two talked all of 2 months. Me and you have been kicking it for about a year and crossed the line six months ago. But hey, I'm not here to make you make a choice. Just saying it was fun while it lasted but I can't kick it with you no more without looking at you as my guilty pleasure. I want to be with you, but we can't. Thanks for letting me know that I can feel again, that I can love again. Peace out my guilty pleasure..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2493810751538789460?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2493810751538789460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2493810751538789460' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2493810751538789460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2493810751538789460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/03/guilty-pleasure.html' title='Guilty Pleasure...'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SbHHHXRhjHI/AAAAAAAAAKM/gZ9Xrq9v0IY/s72-c/Guilty+Pleasure.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1425459587373235959</id><published>2009-02-27T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T02:07:13.796-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Best Spring Break Ever'/><title type='text'>Da Best Spring Break Ever!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SakMg7rFJ7I/AAAAAAAAAJc/fqcv11O0h5o/s1600-h/3244382467_3d9345158c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SakMg7rFJ7I/AAAAAAAAAJc/fqcv11O0h5o/s400/3244382467_3d9345158c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307787395746572210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always hated coming home for breaks!! I don't know how my family expected me to be amped about leaving Atlanta to come to Indianapolis for vacations, that's kinda ass backwards!! My aunt finally convinced me to come home for spring break after weeks of emails and phone calls saying she miss her "Poo Bear".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving through the neighborhoods in which I use to play hide and seek always made me sad because they haven't changed, AT ALL!! My old buddies still stay on the same block,  in the same house. Sad.. Pull up to my aunts house, hop out the car, drop my things off and go straight to the candy store across the street. $2 dollars worth of penny candy, some flamin hot fries, quarter water juice, and peach rings.. I missed the hood candy stores but didn't want to be home, UGH!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen some of my friends in years, not since I graduated. I always wondered how some of them were doing, ESPECIALLY big head Tasha. I haven't seen her in like 3 years. We was close but wasn't that close. She was the annoying little girl from next door, well not technically, she stayed about seven houses down but we went to grade, middle, and high school together. Just wanted to see what she looked like and how she was doing. She wasn't ever ugly, just soo into school that she didn't seem to care about boys. But oh well, I'll see her if I see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Steve from three blocks over was having this big ass BBQ in his parents back yard. He went to school in NC and NEVER came home, so this BBQ was a big deal. It was UUUUBBBBER FAAT!! Everybody was there. Niggas I ain't seen in ages was there. No beefing, no arguing, every body was just having a good time just happy to be home and around familiar faces.  Thats when I noticed Tasha big head ass sitting around the pool with some old friends. Damn, she got her shit together to say the least. She seemed to have matured soo much, and was soo damn cute. I had to keep my cool though. I made my way over there and pushed her in the back of the head, "Hey big head." "Poooooooooo Beaaaaaaaaaaaar!! Hey stanky, when did you get home?" So we talked for a little bit, trying not to seem too interested in one another. We exchanged numbers and went our separate ways. I get a text at 3:30am that morning from Tasha, "You up? I know you up, so tell me why I haven't heard from you all this time?" That's a good question, I don't know why I didn't but I kept it cool and slick and replied with, "The same reason why I didn't hear from you." She didn't reply, figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, after my aunt had me wash the dishes and vacuum, its only so long the welcome home last before your back to the old routines. Tasha mom heard I was in town and invited me for a late breakfast and my greedy ass was on it! So I get there and Ms. Williams rushed me with hugs and kisses. I haven't seen her in sooooooooooo long. I didn't mind though. She was dressed in her pj's still with her hair wrapped and the house shoes that made the "tapping" noise when she walked. It smelled so good! I haven't smelled good home cooked food in a minute, college had me on some pizza, noodles and McDonald's type shit most of the time. As we ate, she asks me all types of questions, the typical shit. All this time Tasha seems to have an attitude with me. She not talking to me, looking at me, NOTHING. We finish eating, and I go up to Tasha room to ask her whats her problem. Ms. Williams didn't care about me going up there, she figured I was a good enough kid and a good enough catch that if we was just talking or fucking, it didn't matter. Get upstairs and she laying on her bead listening to her ipod. I jump on top of her, snatch the ear plugs out and ask her why she mad, she must have been waiting on that cause she went off on my ass! "I've been crushing yo stanking, big head ass for 6 years. I have had a crush on you for the longest and you haven't paid me any attention. What? Am I not your type or something? Am I not "thick" enough for you DizZy. And get off of me, you never wanted to be on top of me before." So.. I got up. Looked in her eyes, apologized and walked out. She grabbed me, told me it was ok and kissed me. It wasn't one of those middle school pecks, it was on some juicy, lust full, lets have great sex type shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the short ass week for spring break was up. After seeing all my family, catching up on sleep and doing these papers for class, my week was finally up and I was back off to school. Spent all day packing and kicking it with my lil cousins, they only 4 and 5. These lil bad fuckers love me to death. After the little ones left and we ate dinner, it was bout 10 pm. I washed my clothes and watched some old episodes of Fresh Prince. Tasha called me and asked me to come say bye to her. I throw on my nike shorts and hoody and run down to her house. The door was open so I walked in, locked it and headed up stairs. Ms. Williams was at her boyfriend spot so Tasha was there by herself. Walked in her room and it was candles on her dresser and she had the ipod hooked up to her boom box bumping some slow shit. FINNA GO DOWN!! She wasn't in the room though, I stepped through the door and she walked up behind me and grabbed me. She low key scared my ass but I'm a G! She turns me around, kiss me and grab the back of my neck. She was so passionate with kissing me, its like she has been waiting on this forever. She lifts my hoody over my head, then my shirt, then my wife beater. I honestly gotta stop wearing so many articles of clothing. She already in nothing but boy shorts and a red laced bra to match. LOVELY! She pushes me on the bed and climbs on top of me. She showers me with kisses from my ear to my stomach. She takes my dick out but I stopped her, or tried to before she whispers "stop fucking up my moment." So I let her do her thang, who am I to fuck up her moment! She then stops, grabs a condom, takes it out the wrapper, put it on me, then starts to ride me. This bitch was bad!! When she sat on it, she made this face and moaned like I have never heard before. She started getting into it, and I must admit, this shit was fye! I grabbed and pulled her close to me and started "working the middle" as some call it. Threw her on her back and climbed in deep as she moaned my name louder and louder with each stroke. Her nails was soooo fucking deep in my back but I kinda liked it! Turned her over and went haaaam on her ass. Pulling her hair, smacking her ass, grabbing her neck, all this shit had her going bananas!! After we both busted the Scary Movie nuts, we fell asleep for like 2 hours then woke up. "What time you leaving Poo Bear?" "O, my plane leave at 2." "Okay." We dozed back off to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up at 9:30 am, run back to my aunts house, shower, get dressed, fold my clothes that I washed and put my bags in the car. "Where was you at last night Mr. Big Shot?" My aunt always asked me questions that she had no business asking. "I was selling drugs with the friends you tried to keep me away from growing up." "SMART ASS, get ya shit ready before I make you walk to the air port." I always found this woman funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving to the air port was always bitter sweet because I want to leave but I don't want to leave my friends family. I get a text from Tasha asking what school did I go to now. I told her The Art Institute of Atlanta. I asked her and she said "Spelman", I stay maybe 15 Min's away from there. I call her instantly, "When did you start going to Spelman?" "I transferred this semester from Purdue, I hated being in Indiana. Looks like were going to be seeing a lot more of each other huh? But bye boy, you wasting my day time minutes, have a safe flight haha!" Big head Tasha?? Who would have known.. O shit!! I can't wait to get back to Atl!! Owwwwwwww Splaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaashh!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The pic doesn't have anything to do with the post, just thought it was funky as hell. Fat shout out to my girl Ana. Isn't she great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1425459587373235959?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1425459587373235959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1425459587373235959' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1425459587373235959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1425459587373235959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/da-best-spring-break-ever.html' title='Da Best Spring Break Ever!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SakMg7rFJ7I/AAAAAAAAAJc/fqcv11O0h5o/s72-c/3244382467_3d9345158c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3057255754142137959</id><published>2009-02-27T01:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T02:36:56.146-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Light Skin vs Dark Skin'/><title type='text'>Light Skin Vs Dark Skin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sae10UwFCPI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Dlg1ipdkjSM/s1600-h/Light+Skinned+Vs+Dark+Skinned.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 379px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sae10UwFCPI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Dlg1ipdkjSM/s400/Light+Skinned+Vs+Dark+Skinned.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307410596407609586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I don't know if you guys know about William Lynch and the letter he wrote in 1712 to keep African American slaves down but.. If you haven't read it. This is a direct quote from the letter. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;small&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You must use the dark     skinned slaves vs the light skinned slaves, and the light skinned slaves vs. the dark     skinned slaves. You must use the female vs. the male, and the male vs. the female&lt;/span&gt;." So for those thinking I'm just pulling this theory out my ass, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I'm from, light skinned females always had to prove their "toughness" to other females but was always liked by all the guys. Dark skinned females weren't considered pretty, they were "cute to be dark skinned". The reason I'm sticking on females is because I see it more with women then men. Some light skinned females have the ugliest attitude, like their better then everyone. Its only some though who in turn fuck it up for the cool ones. Dark skinned females are often insecure because they aren't considered beautiful or attractive so that causes problems between the two. In school it was always light skinned vs dark skinned. ALWAYS! If it wasn't light skinned vs dark skin it was two light skinned females fighting for no damn reason, just to see who's tougher. Light skinned girls in one click, dark skinned girls in the other click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know of females who have complained that they were discriminated because of their skin tone. I can't even front, light skinned girls are considered a hot commodity by most guys. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Idk&lt;/span&gt; why, just is. All women are sexy to me though, shit =D!!! Any who.. We racially profile our self  and I just wanted to post about it because a lot of females are in denial. Its usually the light skinned females who don't see it. Why? Because they reap all the benefits of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are getting a lot better then what they were. Hell, maybe they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;aren't&lt;/span&gt;. What do you think about it though? Do you think its getting better or staying the same?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3057255754142137959?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3057255754142137959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3057255754142137959' title='33 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3057255754142137959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3057255754142137959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/light-skin-vs-dark-skin.html' title='Light Skin Vs Dark Skin'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/Sae10UwFCPI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Dlg1ipdkjSM/s72-c/Light+Skinned+Vs+Dark+Skinned.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>33</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2720243988153173508</id><published>2009-02-21T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T01:28:29.315-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Im just not that into us'/><title type='text'>Im.. Just not that into.. Us?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SaCF7t4kSfI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Y5I8YEcNXlU/s1600-h/hes-just-not-that-into-you-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: left; display: block; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SaCF7t4kSfI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Y5I8YEcNXlU/s400/hes-just-not-that-into-you-.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305387622018075122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;A female friend asked me about females and what not and figured id just make a post about it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much you care for me, how much money you spend on me, how much you see us together in your head, how much you text me and try to get to know me,  no matter how many times we have sex, no matter how many dates we go on, no matter how many times we lay up and watch a movie in my room, I just won't be that into you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See dating to me is more serious now that we not in middle/high school. I only make things official if I can see us together for a long period of time. Just because you see us together don't mean we seem the same thing. I know its wrong for me to entertain the idea of us. I'm sorry. But if I tell you that I no longer want to do these things, your going to make up some reason as to why we should keep "this" going. You claim that your not getting emotionally attached but I see it in your eyes when I tell you we can't hang because I got a session or something. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;So, were going to keep this going until you get mad that my feelings didn't change over time as you had planned. You tell all of your friends how much of a jerk and asshole I am and have them screw they faces at me, thats cool. I know what comes along with it, just telling you now that.. I'm just not that into.. Us. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2720243988153173508?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2720243988153173508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2720243988153173508' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2720243988153173508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2720243988153173508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-just-not-that-into-us.html' title='Im.. Just not that into.. Us?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SaCF7t4kSfI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Y5I8YEcNXlU/s72-c/hes-just-not-that-into-you-.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-7719710236548484897</id><published>2009-02-17T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T01:29:00.492-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enough is Enough'/><title type='text'>When is enough.. enough?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZtX7A-YsnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/GDyojOm8cBE/s1600-h/love_letter_writting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZtX7A-YsnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/GDyojOm8cBE/s400/love_letter_writting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303929657544454770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You love me, I like you. You admire me, I admire you. You believe in me, I believe in you. You trust me, I trust... I trusted you. But, you love me, I like you.. Why is it that the love and like part stick out so much more then everything else? You want to be with me, okay, I understand that. I'm flattered you want to be with me so soon. But, I don't want to be with you, not right now. See, you look in the mirror and see a beautiful person who is complete and damn there perfect. I look at the same reflection and see a person who is emotionally incomplete. A person who needs to love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thyself&lt;/span&gt; and be happy with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thyself&lt;/span&gt; before I can come along and be with you. I see a broken smile and a semi patched heart. I see insecurities.. Not making you out to be a bad person because that is not the case but, I can't be with a person like that. I mean, here it is, you don't know anything about me.. You know how I know you don't know anything about me? Because I haven't told you anything about me!!! So here it is, 4 months of knowing one another and you want to be together.. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You love me. YOU LOVE ME.. I don't and can't love that easily but... I had to be doing something right for you to love me correct? I had to do something right for you to trust me correct? For you to smile when you hear my name right? So why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; what we have enough? Why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; it enough &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt; i finally let you get to know me? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Until&lt;/span&gt; I can smile when i hear your name or when i fully trust you? Why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; what we have good enough for you? I mean, who's to say the way you view me, is the way I view you? I mean, I only will make you my girl friend when I feel like i can be with your forever. But you can't wait for me? How selfish is that of you? That you want what YOU want when YOU want it when it comes to US. That don't make sense to me. So sense &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not ready to date you, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; the bad guy? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; why I wrote you this love letter.. Saying bye. Your giving me an ultimatum of making you my girl or lose you and I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; selfish and true colors was shown. I'm just not ready. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. Have you felt like this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-7719710236548484897?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/7719710236548484897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=7719710236548484897' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7719710236548484897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/7719710236548484897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-is-enough-enough.html' title='When is enough.. enough?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZtX7A-YsnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/GDyojOm8cBE/s72-c/love_letter_writting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5813343924172378390</id><published>2009-02-14T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T01:29:35.657-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentines Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Hater'/><title type='text'>The Love Hater..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZbhNZt7cWI/AAAAAAAAAHE/UX2dqNuwfXQ/s1600-h/Valentines_day_sucks1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 377px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZbhNZt7cWI/AAAAAAAAAHE/UX2dqNuwfXQ/s400/Valentines_day_sucks1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302673231633412450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I haven't had a Valentines since like 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt; grade.. When my mom bought me two tickets to the valentines day dance and Monique turned me down the last minute, literally. I bought roses and candy with my money I saved up.. She bailed on me so I gave the roses to my mom and let my sis Tee eat the candy. I was fucking pissed. I know I was young but I swore I wouldn't put my all into valentines day again. I slipped up in 05 when I bought a big ass bear, flowers and tons of fucking candy for India and she seemed the least interested that I wanted to see her on valentines day. Mind you, she was my girl friend. So I said fuck it, called up my best female friend, went to eat and gave it to her. It seems like when I give my all, I get a foot in the ass for it. Now.. I'm like fuck it all together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Now I look at it as a day for the world to look down on the people who find peace at being single. Here you have one day out the whole year where everyone is all lovey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dubby&lt;/span&gt; and shit. Its cute.. I admire those who give their all and get at least 90% back and sorry to all the females who give me 90 and I give them 50% back. Blame my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt;. I have been scorned!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;But if your in a relationship, I figure you buy ya counter part cards, candy, flowers, make hotel reservations, cook breakfast and dinner, have great sex, tell them you love them all fucking day but... Why not do that everyday? Like.. why not be spontaneous and do it everyday oppose to the one time your suppose to do it? If we stayed happy about being in a relationship all year long, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;unfulfilled&lt;/span&gt; relationships we have today. You buy your counterpart that shit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;July&lt;/span&gt; 1st and they think you cheating or have something your trying to hide. I think its funny but I am not trying to hate or rain on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;any ones&lt;/span&gt; parade. Not at all. Just speaking my mind. So as the world sees &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;X's&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;O's&lt;/span&gt; today.. I'm a be on some other shit, writing music and chilling and waiting for the female that will allow me to make everyday Feb 14&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt;.. Happy Valentines Day. -Eric&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5813343924172378390?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5813343924172378390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5813343924172378390' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5813343924172378390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5813343924172378390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-hater.html' title='The Love Hater..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZbhNZt7cWI/AAAAAAAAAHE/UX2dqNuwfXQ/s72-c/Valentines_day_sucks1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3002543355130468596</id><published>2009-02-11T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T01:29:51.039-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sexcapade'/><title type='text'>Sexcapade!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZN30Ccfj8I/AAAAAAAAAG0/wh23Fta3zMw/s1600-h/Sexcapade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZN30Ccfj8I/AAAAAAAAAG0/wh23Fta3zMw/s400/Sexcapade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301712922238488514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Flipped the sidekick open at 2:34 a.m, to a text I haven't seen in a few weeks, "you up"? I already knew what it meant, already knew what she wanted but I was bored so I replied back with "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yeAzir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;". I mean, I wasn't doing nothing but watching Fresh Prince, like I do every night. "Can I come over", I dwell on it all of 2 seconds before I replied back with "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yeAzir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"! She a inconvenience to me so she don't get the clean room tonight.. I'm not even getting freshened up. Fuck that!! Last time she came over she didn't do shit but tease me the whole night before I said fuck it and went to sleep. BLUE BALL NATION!!! Not tonight, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;She call me and tell me she at the door.. I walk to the living room in basketball shorts and socks.. She had on number 6 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Jordans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;, Pink sweat pants, and a white tee. Though she was dressed down, she looked good as hell as usual. She one of the "busy" type.. Never answer texts or call back.. Always make plans but back out for some odd reason. I suspected she had a boyfriend and didn't care to tell me.. Either way she in my house at 3 a.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;So we get in my room and I instantly jump back in my spot before she fuck it up, its already warm! "Dang boy, wasn't nobody &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;finna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; get in yo spot"! She took her shoes off and climbed next to me and ask me what I was doing as if she didn't ask me that via text 20 minutes ago.. I cut to the chase and asked why she come over so late. "Oh so you don't want me over here"? I then ignored her. Lord knows I wanted her ass next to me but not if she was gone tease me. So I told her yeah and watched &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I felt myself dozing off. Yeah, she still next to me but fuck it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; sleepy and last time we was in this situation she ended the night teasing. I leaned over, gave her a kiss on her forehead and laid back down. "Aw that was so cute, do it again &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;DizZ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;", here she go, teasing and paying already. So I leaned over again and she grabbed me by my wife beater on top of her. In my mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; thinking she teasing and won't shit come from it, WRONG. So she kiss me and even though I got some big ass lips and enjoy kissing, I don't just kiss every female but... I kissed her. She was a little more into it this time so I ran with it. She reached in, grabbed my dick and said "I want it", so... I gave it. Flipped over to my back and put her on top of me, I did this just to see if she was serious. She took my wife beater and I took off her white tee... Then her sweat pants.. She had on some cute pink &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;panties&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; with matching bra. I love it!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;So she starts kissing on me which rarely happens these days, chicks are lazy as hell in bed so I've kinda gotten use to doing all the work. But she was kissing and licking, catching me off guard and I loved it! She started going down my chest, pulled my shorts down and put it in her mouth. She was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; nasty with it, spitting on it, licking it, making all types of noises and moaning.. I was more entertained then turned on by it. She was going ham till I told her to stop.. I wanted to get some strokes in. I made her stop, lay on her side as I slide in. DEEP! I can tell this was her first time for that cause she started doing some crazy shit with her eyes and making strange moaning sounds. This was all to funny for me! She then pushed me off turned over and moaned "fuck me".. But when she turned over, that kitty was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; damn pretty, I put my face in it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;LMAO&lt;/span&gt; why not?? Her knees buckled a little bit but I grabbed her by her waist and stuck my tongue in then played with it.. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Soo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; fun! Then I slid in from the back. She was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;suuuuper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; wet, I felt like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;scuba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Steve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; for a second, BIG DADDY! She was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;lowkey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; running from it so I put her against the wall and she couldn't take it. She was creaming, fucking up my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;sheets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;!! I had to get a nut off though so.. I did and slid back out... I'm not ever over dramatic with a nuts less its from some bomb ass head..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I got up and went to the bathroom to wash myself off.. Threw the condom inside the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Kroger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; bag behind the door. I heard her phone ring and knew it was someone "serious" cause official girl was the ring tone.. She answered and I heard her  say "I told you I was staying with my moms tonight, why you tripping boy?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;, as I look into the mirror and seen a slight grin on the man looking back at me. This shit gotta stop.. But, not tonight!! Round 2?? DIZZY!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;P.S. Don't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; judge me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3002543355130468596?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3002543355130468596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3002543355130468596' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3002543355130468596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3002543355130468596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/sexcapade.html' title='Sexcapade!!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SZN30Ccfj8I/AAAAAAAAAG0/wh23Fta3zMw/s72-c/Sexcapade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-2054912430397630193</id><published>2009-02-04T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T18:10:53.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to you..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I don't know why you don't like me. I mean it aint like you know me. Before I was born, you probably had it out for me huh? Yup! Growing up, I never seen you, you never showed your face. Were you ashamed of me? I understand you and Tonya had beef but that didn't have anything to do with me. You let the beef between you and her stop us from having a any type of relationship. With all that said, I didn't let 18 years of turmoil stop me from picking up the phone and calling you trying to patch shit up. But when I talked to you, I heard how un fucking interested you was about me going to college. How un fucking interested you was about me doing music and following my dream. How un fucking interested you was that I was okay and I'm doing my thang... That shit hurt me. It only hurt because they only person I want to acknowledge my accomplishments don't. They only person I want to have a solid relationship, don't want to have one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt; You wasn't there to teach me to shave, talk to girls, catch a ball, ride a bike, drive a car, fight, NOTHING! But hey, I got pretty damn good at it. You can't take pride in nothing when it comes to me. You waited too fucking long to man up. But what makes it soo bad.. I aint talking to a friend or a ex girl friend. Im talking about you Dad. It wouldnt be so bad if you didn't have a wife and two other kids who you spoil to death. Who you watch grow up. Who you cherish like their your pride and joy when I came 11 or 12 years before them both. Everything I wanted to do with you, you do with them. Thats what makes it so bad to me. But its cool. You a regret the lack of communication before I do. -Eric&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. This is for anyone who feels like they dont have the relationship they would like to have with any of their parents. Even if you was raised with your dad or mom, they could have been absent in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.p.s. So fucking what I let my personal life leak over into my blog. I know tons of motha fuckas who can relate. Gotta problem, fuk you and 13 motha fucks who resemble you even a little bit haha!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-2054912430397630193?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/2054912430397630193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=2054912430397630193' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2054912430397630193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/2054912430397630193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/letter-to-you.html' title='Letter to you..'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-1603518971978796095</id><published>2009-02-02T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T16:18:57.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Stranger?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYeLrPUlWXI/AAAAAAAAAGk/ED6A7OErsjE/s1600-h/Computer+Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 351px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYeLrPUlWXI/AAAAAAAAAGk/ED6A7OErsjE/s400/Computer+Love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298357061588179314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I get out of talking to you? I mean, I don't know you personally and yet, I can tell you all my personal shit. The most I know about you is a profile pic you took in your bathroom and a few other pictures you took with some friends. Your first name and your screen name. Where you from and.. That's about it. Why do I trust you? Why when I feel like I can't talk to anybody, I can log on yahoo, aim or any other medium online and release whatever is on my mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first started talking, I admit I didn't think shit would come of it. I had one of my moments where I was mad at the world and you just so happen to be the victim  online to hear about it. You don't know me and yet you seemed so interested in my problems and concerned. We typed back and forth for what seemed like 30 mins but was actually a few hours. I don't remember where I got your screen name from. Had to be facebook or myspace cause I don't fuck with blackplanet or twitter. Even thouh we talk on aim/yahoo all the time, neither one of us dare ask for each others number. Ohhhh noo!! You might be some crazy as killer haha, as ironic as that sounds, its the truth! Here it is, we talk everyday sometimes all day about personal shit, shit we wouldn't tell anyone else and we won't exchange numbers or meet up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To take take place of meeting up we exchange pics. Not regular pics of course but nasty ones. I show u mine, you show me yours. Occasional web cam sessions, you know how that go. But whatever it is we have, it fills a void that no one can seem to fill in person. When I need to vent, you're there. When comcast was fucking up after that storm and I had no Internet for a couple days, I damn ner lost my mind. You have to be somewhat of a close friend to me, you have to be. But all of this happened over a computer? Why? How? I talk about people like me! When someone say they met someone online and shit, I laugh at them but here I am.. Chatting my ass off to you. I guess I understand now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know someone has met someone online at least once and they hit it off. Seemed to be the perfect stranger.. Don't make me seem like I'm crazy.. O well, fuck it. It aint the first time I have been called that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I have no perfect strangers at the moment but I have. Just had to put a disclaimer since folks think I spread my buisness all on the web lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-DizZy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-1603518971978796095?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/1603518971978796095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=1603518971978796095' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1603518971978796095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/1603518971978796095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/perfect-stranger.html' title='Perfect Stranger?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYeLrPUlWXI/AAAAAAAAAGk/ED6A7OErsjE/s72-c/Computer+Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-5109697155564474522</id><published>2009-02-01T15:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T16:28:28.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your opinions....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYYxnnQoILI/AAAAAAAAAGc/QdphdJGftSI/s1600-h/middle-finger-umbrella.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYYxnnQoILI/AAAAAAAAAGc/QdphdJGftSI/s400/middle-finger-umbrella.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297976568271347890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck every ones opinion lol!!. It is a lot of talking going on these days and a lot of questions being asked and its kind of pissing me off. Not a lot but a tad. Since when did YOUR  opinion matter? Who cares what you think about anything? The shit you are suppose to care about, you don't such as, life insurance, why your counterpart is fucking your neighbor, your grades and what you are going to do after you graduate. Stuff like that I can see if folks talked about that but not, Kanye West at fashion week, why T-pain keep using auto tune, about lil wayne and his street credibility, Rick Ross being a cop and all the other little hollywood/hollyhood shit yall seem to blog about all the fucking time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read, or skim I should say, alot of these blogs and they all be about the same thing. All voicing their opinion about something that don't even matter. Its a few of you who are now telling sex stories and crazy shit. I started a trend.. To bad your word play isnt as good as mine haha. Maybe its just my attitude but I don't give a fuck what you folks think. I only write on blogspot to tell my stories, I don't analyze videos, pictures, situations or anything. Its not my place to voice my opinion aout shit that don't matter. I'm not bashing the folks who sit up and voice their opinion on stuff, just asking when did that become cool? Fuck that and your opinions. -dizZy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Don't catch feelings bloggers. Just thought I had to throw that out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-5109697155564474522?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/5109697155564474522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=5109697155564474522' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5109697155564474522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/5109697155564474522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/02/your-opinions.html' title='Your opinions....'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYYxnnQoILI/AAAAAAAAAGc/QdphdJGftSI/s72-c/middle-finger-umbrella.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-6514493670203463230</id><published>2009-01-29T01:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T01:58:51.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When shit hit the fan....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYF41H8tlQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-13-ImBtS88/s1600-h/Broken+Heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYF41H8tlQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-13-ImBtS88/s400/Broken+Heart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296647490826507522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She been talking to him for a good year but he hasn't been talking to her for that long, no where near that long. In fact I'm sure if you asked him (Steve) when they first met he a draw a blank. But she (Jaz) knows everything. First kiss, first time they had sex and the first time SHE made love because to him, they was just fucking. The same way he fucked the other "hers". He made her feel as if she was the only one that matters.. In the back of her mind, she knew he was fucking with other females but she didn't care. How could she care is what she asked herself. "We aint together, he aint my man, I can't complain", she says that to herself every night to make her sleep better..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She (Tisha) hates his guts. She been knowing him since she was in 9th grade, been in love with him since junior year and still is. Only reason she hates him is because she will do anything for him (Steve) and he knows it. She bends over backwards for him only to get nothing in return. Three abortions, and she only got them cause he somehow convinced her "its not the right time"... She still cries about it nightly. They still somewhat together.. Well.. Depends on who u ask... NIGGAS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve on some creep shit.. As usual. He fucking bout 10 different women.. No remorse for any of em. If he wasn't  treating all 10 like they was his main girl, I would feel a little better about the situation but.. He "loves" all of them. He wishes he could be with all of them but he "out handling business", same line he tell nine other women nightly while he sleep with which ever one that aint getting on his nerves at the time. Ol reckless ass, dumb ass, trifling ass nigga. He occasionally fucks with out protection with 10 different women. Whispering bull shit in they ear and what they do, believe that shit. They all want to be the one that "changes Steve".. My cousin, a close cousin is one of the 10. Who the fuck am I to try and convince her that he aint shit? Who am I to tell her that all niggas be on some dumb, fuck shit and depend on who u ask and when you ask them, I might be one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get a phone call, "I need u to take care of something for me. ASAP! This nigga gave me an STD!!! Don't worry I'm fine. I got a shot and some pills. Ill be fine in less then a week but I need you to take care of him.." I couldn't even speak, she knew it.. That's why she didn't wait for me to respond. My lil cousin only 19!! What if it was aids? What if she won't be able to have kids cause of this nigga? I'm pissed, I sent out mass text to 20 of my folks.. 15 showed up at the spot in less then 30 mins dressed in black on some funeral type shit. haha. We fly over to his spot blowing trees and weaving through traffic.. Pull up to his lil janky ass spot he call a home.  He was walking to his car... We hoped out 3 cars deep.. Caught his goofy ass slippin. Someone was listening to Gucci Mane, the nigga got his ass stomped to "Bricks" and half of "Rich Nigga Shit"!!! We beat his motha fucking ass to the UMP degree!  We didn't rob em.. Naw, just beat his ass. Only 6 of us really did something. Wasn't any room for 15 niggas to just smash on em. We whipped his ass and dipped to ihop and laughed about it.. Left his clown ass in the middle of the street.. I felt bad for him at ihop though. One of my niggas like 230, 6'5! Kicked em in his stomach right before we smashed out. Well I take that back, fuck that clown. That was the high light of the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fa real, how many females you know like this? Slap they ass and tell em come back to reality.. This shit is real. Folks falling in love with the thought of being in love with someone who don't love them or care for them. Its all fun and games till 9 of them women realize they all the chick on the side  when visiting his stupid ass in the hospital. Fellas, lets grow up and man up to our selfish ways. Lets stop playing and get on our shit. To you triflin ass dudes, "YOU BETTA BE ON YO BEST MOTHA FUCKIN BEHAVOIR!!!!!! -DizZy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. BRICKS!!! UH!! ALL WHITE BRICKS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                           *Hey &lt;a href="http://www.diamondsdunkzdrinkz.blogspot.com"&gt;DuNkZ&lt;/a&gt;!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#888888;"&gt; *DizZy*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-6514493670203463230?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/6514493670203463230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=6514493670203463230' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6514493670203463230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/6514493670203463230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-shit-hit-fan.html' title='When shit hit the fan....'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SYF41H8tlQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-13-ImBtS88/s72-c/Broken+Heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-3536446345679004569</id><published>2009-01-27T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T16:48:18.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong fuking number!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SX-laDiqZwI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ertGwPUYmzA/s1600-h/Wrong+Number.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SX-laDiqZwI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ertGwPUYmzA/s400/Wrong+Number.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296133553856866050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Who the fuck is this calling me at 5:43 a.m.!! I was drooling and everything. PERFECT FUKIN SLEEP!! No name in my phone so its prolly some ol skeezer I deleted out of my phone on some "u sleep?" type shit. Half sleep, I reached for my sidekick and before I could say hello, all I hear is crying on the other end. Like balling... I WAS mad but me asking who the fuck is this would prolly send me to hell instantly.. That a be too mean even for me to do so I just said "hello", shit, what else im pose to do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;"This is Vanessa I know this is kinda rude. I know its hella late but... I have a situation and I don't know what to do! I'm pregnant and I don't know if I should keep it or tell my boy friends its his and just keep it a secret. I cheated on him about 6 weeks ago when he was out of town. I was lonely, had a few drinks and it just happened. I regret it everyday but I did."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; Fyi, I don't know any chick named Vanessa. I had a friend named Vanessa in like 4th grade but.. Um, yeaah. And she keeps calling me Jay.. Back to the story...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;"On top of that, my mom is fucking dying from cancer and my little sister is a hot ass and with all that going on.. No one is concerned about meee! I wonder if I died right now, who would give a fuck! Hold on I gotta blow my nose..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; While she blowing her nose, I'm done sleeping. I'm wide the fuck awake by now. I'm literally on the edge of my bed. And the whole time she sobbing, gasping for air and shit.. I really feel awkward cause she thinks I'm "Jay" and I'm clearly not. I guess I sound like Jay cause when she said Jay you there, I replied back yeah. I mean WTF was I suppose to do? She already told me soo much.. What more can she possibly tell me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;"I'm really sorry to be calling so late Jay but you always seem to know what to say... Jay, I really can't continue living like this. I mean, I don't have to live perfect just better then this. I'm 22 fucking years old with no job and I stay with my home girl Trish.. I'm 6 weeks late and I keep getting sick to my stomach. Throwing up every morning, ugh, IM SICK OF THIS SHIT!! I slit my wrist 2 weeks ago, I was high off some shit. The paramedics saved me from my own pool of blood. All my "family" came to the hospital to see me and shit but 2 weeks been passed and aint nobody called to speak or anything, how the fuck this come out of the prom queen? How the fuck did I end up here is a question I find my self asking waaay to often. You shy now Jay? Why you aint talking? I know I sound crazy but I had to get this off my chest."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; Maan, now I feel bad. I know all this womans business and I don't even know who she is. FUCK! Um...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; "I don't really know how to put this but my name is DizZ. Please don't spaz, get all mad and start blaming me. You crying, me half sleep... It caught off guard.. I'm sorry.. It got me all teary eyed, I wish I could be there to hold you.. Wait, don't speak. You dialed the wrong number, obviously but I ain't on some immature shit I promise that.. But fuck everybody, u only need you, cause you won't lie, deceive, or mislead yaself. Ya boyfriend must be whack cause he aint there for you right now like he should be. I don't know what you gone do about the baby but..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt; "Well damn Dizz!! I'm saying, its fucking hard out here! Even worse this fucking baby. I'm sorry but this shit is driving me fucking crazy, I'm all emo right now! EVERY body looks down on me cause my old mistakes. I'm a better person I swear, I changed Dizz, I SWEAR! And I don't know if I'm happy or sad its you I'm connecting with but this shit is crazy.. I wish we could kick it and finish this. My address is 1243 North WalkWitMe Dr. if you care.. Have you ever felt like you have no one to talk to, like your all alone? Billions of people on this globe and you feel like you all alone? So called friends and you feel, ALL FUCKING ALONE!! Been feeling like this for some time...  I called your the wrong number on purpose.. I had no one else to talk to... Might as well just talk to a straner, someone I know won't judge me.. You just so happened to be the first number I dialed.. See you if you later if you decide to come.. Thanks, I needed to vent. Bye?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Um.. Yeah.. I'm just as lost as yall.. I don't know what to do or what to say to that. I kinda feel obligated to go and talk to her now....... The fucking wrong number....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;P.S. Don't ask what happens.. Just think about what she said towards the end..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-3536446345679004569?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/3536446345679004569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=3536446345679004569' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3536446345679004569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/3536446345679004569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/01/wrong-fuking-number.html' title='Wrong fuking number!!!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SX-laDiqZwI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ertGwPUYmzA/s72-c/Wrong+Number.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-315467974281335379</id><published>2009-01-26T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T09:00:10.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fukin Waffles!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SX3TM9xt_4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/IVrgFy5bK24/s1600-h/Sexy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SX3TM9xt_4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/IVrgFy5bK24/s400/Sexy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295620956552560514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Me and my broz come to this waffle house off Howell Mill all the time and order the same shit. All Star with orange juice extra cheese eggs. We always get the ugly ass dude with the dusty ass black FILAs on as our waiter or the country ass chick with the different color weave and kangaroo patch on her stomach.. I guess losing weight wasn't one of her  new years resolution, even if it was she probably stopped shooting for it jan 7th. ITS JUNE!! One time we was up there on some tired of being in the studio type shit and was just grubbing and as we was leaving a light skin chick was coming in. I knew she wasnt from ATL cause she had some crazy ass accent when she said thanks for holding the door open. Of course we all stared at her and didnt say shit. She had a shit load of tats. Three stars on her kneck, some flowers and what not on her arm. Some shit on her wrists.. I was in love... But fuck it, I won't see her again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;One of the "hers" insisted we go to waffle house. She had the taste for some bacon and a waffle. I was down, hell, im ALWAYS down for free food! Me and "her" aint talking like that, though she always forget and ask me who i'm texting on my sidekick or hit me with the infamous lines when she call and I finally decide to answer "where you at, who you with..." So we pull up, get out, walk in, sit down, and pick up the slightly sticky menu. Just like all the other times, nothing different untill the NEW waitress walks up...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Hey, my name is Tiffany, I'll be ya waitress this evening. Can I get your drinks?" I look up and behold the sexy ass tatted chick me and the broz seen a couple weeks ago. Maaan was she fine!! She was killlling "her". It wasnt even a fair fight for my attention. Ali versus Paris Hilton, and the winner is!!! "DizZy be cool" is what my concious kept telling me. So im a chill shawty.. Thats the best advice that I can take!! HAHA! So I say cool then a bitch, "Yeah, lemme get a Orange juice please", you know I had to keep it cool. She took our order just like she was supposed to and that was that. No harm in that.. Right? Yeah thats what i thought. So "she" is talking and its about nothing of course. About how her home girl did this, how school getting on her nerves, how she just bought some article of clothing out of Urban Outfitters.. Yeah. So I'm thinking that Tiffany aint paying me no mind till I catch her looking at me from the register.. I brush it off, she was just looking to see if we needed anything. That didn't mean nothing, I'm sure of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Here you go", she sat the plates down and stood back up right and asked were we good. We both replied yea but i was lying. Um, SEX PLEASE. Extra everything but hold the commitment. HAHA!!!! I wish I had said that, but, I didn't. So She leave and we eat. I'm smashing, shit so good. I look up to get some more OJ and guess who staring me down but chill with it.. She starts smiling and come get the cup so she can fill me. I was trying to keep cool, I'm bad. If provoked, i'd take her down in the bathroom, NO PROB!! She was just too fine to care about anything. And she knew it!! She walking slow as hell, at this point I realized that I made her walk in slow motion just like in the movies. Hair blowing, she got a damn glow and everything. I wonder what the hell "she" was doing through all this. She got knocked out first round by Ali. I havent been paying attention to her the whole time. TIffany finally gets to me and says "Orange Juice.. Right?" She knew what I was drinking so I reply back smooooth den a bitch "Yeazir". She grabbed the cup out my hand and her hand touched mine. I swear on errrr thang it felt like a fuckin ZOOM ZOOM commercial where they touch the car and vision themself driving it.. Yup.. FUCK!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Bathroom up against the stall.. Pulling her hair as she grabs my shirt to pull me closer. Kissing her neck and rubbing where ever my little ol hands end up. There was NO TALKING, just all action. She slid one leg out of her black kahkis and pink laced panties.. I pulled down the levii pants and boxers... Grabbed the gold card out the wallet and went scooba diving. She standing over the sink eyes closed as I grab her hair, stroke and kiss her neck. Kissing all on her stars, lifting her shirt to see the rose that takes up her whole left side.. Damn I know this is wrong but it "feeeel sooo goood" with my tpain voice! I started going hard.. She started biting her lip hard as hell and breathing like she was in desprate need of oxygen!! I just wanted to get a few more strokes in but she gasped and started twitching a little too much for me to keep my composer.. She came first I came last... She pulling her pants up giggling, im admiring her body still.. Damn!! She looked at me wink and walked out. I pulled my pants up, looked in the mirror and shook my head.. I GOTTA STOP DOING THIS!!! ZOOM ZOOM MOTHA FUCKA!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Orange Juice, right?" I reply back smoooth then a bitch like "Yeazir". Man I had to have blacked out for what seem like 15 minutes but it was only about 5 seconds. "She" was eating and still talking as I subconciously was replying back with, "Yeah, yup, i fucks with that", typical guy shit. O well...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;We eat, talk a lil more and get up to leave. I'm still floating from the damn day dream I had. I go to the register to pay. "She" walks out to the door, Tiffany looks at me and smile. "Don't be staring at me while you and ya girl friend have lunch. Thats not cool boy." I don't know why I like when girls call me boy, shit so sexy. But I had to correct her, "Chilll, that aint my girl friend. We just friends." She frowned and scribbled on my receipt.. "Call me then, I get off at 9. Dizzy right?" "Riiiiiight, im a call you at 9:01!!!!" I don't know if she was as into me as much as I was into her buuuut.. GOT HER, SWEEEET!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;p.s. My imagination is fucking ridiculous. I can't help it. She was too fine. I don't normally lose it like that but that day something came over me. I have a strong liking for women into fashion and like ink... Damn!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-315467974281335379?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/315467974281335379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=315467974281335379' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/315467974281335379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/315467974281335379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/01/fukin-waffles.html' title='Fukin Waffles!!!'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SX3TM9xt_4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/IVrgFy5bK24/s72-c/Sexy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575324557633251542.post-251292252280926348</id><published>2009-01-24T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T23:47:11.178-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Piece of.. DizZy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SXwBMBDOzgI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-ohZLwgNY0E/s1600-h/sexy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SXwBMBDOzgI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-ohZLwgNY0E/s320/sexy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295108567832907266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;How did I end up here instead of sleeping or watching ATL for the 100th time like I had planned? Ohhh yeah, she called and asked "What you doing DizZ".. I'm asked that question all the time, its how she paused after I told her nothing as if she wanted me to ask did she want to come over and "watch a movie". I kinda felt obligated to ask her if she wanted to chill. "Hell, I aint on nothing, finna chill and watch a movie, want to come over?" She JUMPED to the idea of watching a movie with me. Of course she had no plans at 12:43 a.m on Tuesday.. OF COURRSE she was free. HaHa. "I'll be there in about 30 minutes".. Just fucking great, I was really in the mood to be by myself and watch ATL.. Welp.. Time for some action..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;So as I get up and clean my room.. Put all my creative recs and nikes in the closet. Hang up my TKM hoody and LRG track jacket.. Dump my trash in the bathroom with condom wrappers in it.. Spray the indian air freshner you get in the hood and.. Finish.. 46 mins later sidekick buzzin.. "Hey, I'm here.." Go to the door and there she stands as if she was going to the club.... Heels, skinnies, tight yellow shirt with her hiar up.. She must have remembered that I like heels, how she looks in skinnies, and girls with they hair pinned up. Think she slick!! I feel under dressed in my basketball shorts and wife beater.. Flip flops no socks on her ass!! Flexing with the pretty feet. haha!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Walking to my room, as she leads the way I put the kick on silent.. I know what she here for.. She knows what she here for but for some odd reason she felt as if she couldn't call and say "DizZy I wanna fuck, you busy?" Ugh, the mind reading that I have to do. Any who. Its been a long day, I'm low key tired but I know if I fall asleep she gone be pissed so I pop ATL in and recite all the words in my head and admire the beauty of the twins.. GOT DAMN THEY FINE!! She gets comfortable and take her heels off. HmM.!? I get prepared at this point "Can I get under the covers, I'm a little cold." "Suuuure" I reply nonchalantly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Fast forward me getting under the covers as well and playing in her hair.. She grabs the Mohawk, I grab her neck, she grabs my dick.. Blah blah blah..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;So the music is playing loud to drown out all the noises we MIGHT make.. Depends on how into it I get. I put a condom on, slide inside and she bites her bottom lip and dig deep into my back with her nails she just got done 2 days prior.. How I know? Cause when she told me she was at the nail shop via text, this scene popped into my head. As I stroke, she gets louder and louder as if I'm killing her. I am careful on how I stroke this one because this is the first time and I don't want a future headache. She opens her eyes and the look of "LoVe" is in her eyes. Ugh.. So I slide out and start kissing on her neck and then her chest.. Then her stomach.. Then her thighs.. As I get lower and lower, in my head I'm contemplating if I want to taste her forbidden fruit. I know if I do it, then she might go crazy and if I don't she might later ask me down the line "Why you rap about eating pussy and what not in &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/edotdizzy"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Sex Appeal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; but didn't do it to me, am i not good enough?" UGHHH.. Me and my big mouth.. So I lick and taste her. As I do so, she grabs the bed, the sheets are pulled to the head of the bead. I know what I'm doing.. Yeah, one nut.. Okay.. 2 nuts.. Okay, 3 nuts, I think.. How i know? The pool gets wetter and her lower body shakes when its right.. I'm kinda ready for this to be over but she grabs me and initiates that she wants me to get on my back. So.. I get on my back..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;She kisses my neck, then go down on my chest, stomach.. She takes the Magnum off.. Grabs it.. Puts her mouth on it. YeaaaaZiR!!! I knew she sucked dick!! I KNEW IT!! Goody to shoe is a dick fiend! So as she down there, I get a lil sidetracked like always. "I wonder if I'm a finish that song tomorrow.. Damn I didn't call moms back.. I wonder what the broz doing.. " Just random shit was floating through my head. Its good, aint great but its good. So she starts going hard at it but I make her stop. Why? Cause I don't know if she swallow or not. If she don't then I risk getting shit on my comforter and I'm not ready to be done if she does swallow.. So I reach and get another gold card, make her lay on her stomach and I slide in. This is when I go hard. She low key screams as if she wants the neighbors to question our actions. I then do every position I can that wont put us face to face. If I look into her eyes, I might send mixed signals and I don't know whats going through her head. I don't know if she faking the funk. If she is, o well cause I'm getting mine. But no more of the I'm falling in love with yo dick look from her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Sometimes when I have sex, I start viewing shit in slow motion like the matrix. I then start to think, why am I having sex with her? I was hitting her up to actually get to know her. I now know that every time we chill its a 89% chance it leads to sex. Maybe ever higher.. We will only be about sex. Hell we only talk so often. I know this is probably all she wants. I look down as I fuck slow motion from the back. She is breathing like she has asthma and grabbing the wall. Ugh. I like fucking but I hate feeling like a piece of meat. So I snap out of it, I go hard and deep. Bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam!!! "DizZy!!!!!!" She quenches and that's my que to cum as well.. Not as dramatic but. It a do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Get up as she rolls over to the wall and dozeee.. Get in the bathroom, take the magnum off.. Put it in the kroger bag behind the door.. Get my wash rag, run the hot water then wash myself off. Look into the mirror and see a blank expression. A feeling of emptiness. It will all pass once I sleep.. Go back into the room and turn the music off. Sit on the edge of the bed and put my boxers on. She turns over and whispers "DizZy DizZy DizZy uHhH, that was sooo good." I reply back cool then a bitch like "Really? I was just giving you what you wanted..." Boxers on in the bed staring at the ceiling as she has dozed the hell off. I really need to stop doing this. Having sex and being the one least pleased at the end of it. Its getting boring and starting to become routine. No feelings, no emotions behind this. Who the fuck am I kidding, if she call tomorrow I'm a do the same thing. This isn't good, specially not for the boyfriend who been calling her phone for an hour straight. Hey.. Don't judge me.. Its all "Her" and the other "Hers" who only come to fuck and get away from his whack ass.. Ugh, I didn't even get to finish my fucking movie. Who told this girl she could spend the night? Ughhhh!! O well. I hope she can cook or buy me breakfast!! -DizZy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.. Damn how the bitch seem, she a dick fiend. Although I wont elaborate, I say she lick things.. -T.I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575324557633251542-251292252280926348?l=edotdizzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/feeds/251292252280926348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2575324557633251542&amp;postID=251292252280926348' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/251292252280926348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575324557633251542/posts/default/251292252280926348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edotdizzy.blogspot.com/2009/01/piece-of-dizzy.html' title='Piece of.. DizZy?'/><author><name>E Dot DizZy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06935036620077839431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UAWU5zEDTP8/TX-Sit9Hi7I/AAAAAAAAAY4/xWIvlS_gVtY/s220/Flying%2BColours%2BAlbum%2BArt.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4R7BxKIE9Y/SXwBMBDOzgI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-ohZLwgNY0E/s72-c/sexy2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry></feed>
