Booty S.O.S. and Intervention Requests

My name is MiniMee-MistyMarie, Sole Monarch of the Imperial Kingdom of Mistyland, Compton, California, Some Country, on Some Continent, on God's Green Earth. And I'm a dickaholic. In case you didn't know, I been on the wagon now since October. I said I was gonna make a change, for once in my life. It was gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference, I was gonna make it right. Okay, maybe not with all the extras. Basically I've been dick free for about 3 months and some change. The quest had gotten considerably easier due to a few new variables. However, due to the major catastrophe that befell Her Imperial Majesty on January 30, 2005 *sniff* I'm sorry *sniff*... I still ain't over it... I need a minute... okay, yeah, the quest has resumed it's status as the Infinitely Long And Torturous Road to Hell. I'm hallucinating now. I'm crazy and delusional. Every man within a mile of me is somehow looking good. I'm making exceptions to rules (like, say, unforgivably nappy happy crop top's) and thinking, "man, maybe I can work with that. I ain't really got to look at his head. He can hit it from the back." What's bad is niggas are picking up on this. I'm sending out some kinda signal and they're responding. I'm getting visits from said nappy men. I'm getting leered at in a different perved out way. And I'm flirting back, which is SO out of character for me. This is so un-good. I need intervention, DAMMIT! Help me before I screw up again (literally)! Please! Why are you laughing? So you don't think I really have a problem? You don't want to help me? Look, I ain't crazy. I got proof this shit is real. This is how I know I'm emitting these Subliminal Booty S.O.S. signals: The return of the Belizean. Now depending on how long you've known me, you may have heard me refer to "that damn Belizean". See, here's the deal with him. He's fine as all kinds of fuck. He is the original (and I do mean the very first) Stalkalistic Playa. This nigga wrote the book, taught the class, and holds workshops on effectively stalking yours truly. I've known him since 1996. As a matter of fact he was my boyfriend for a gang of years because I could never break up with him. He'd always leave the damn country or state. One minute he'd be here, next minute he'd be gone. When I finally got to break up with him, he convinced me FOUR TIMES to get back with him. What can I say, he was fine. And he played basketball, so he had a nice body from working out. He had an accent, and he had the most beautiful lips in the world. His skin was beautiful. He made me the lip freak I am today. He is the only man standing to this damn day that can say, "I've always loved you, Misty" and make me start trembling. I'll damn near believe him when he says that. I hear that bullshit a lot. All the time, especially with Valentines Day (187 bitch ass holiday) creeping up. But its something about how he says it. And he's back with a vengeance. I swear, that nigga can feel me from Belize, from Chicago, from Arizona, from Chile, from wherever his black ass decides to go. Suddenly, he'll come home. And he'll come for me. Do I love this Stalkalistic OG? Hell naw. I so do NOT love him. But I am not immune to him either. And I know when things are getting super rough for me, because this nigga appears outta thin air. He is my kryptonite. His curly hair and his accent do me in every single time. He only appears when I'm struggling yet holding it down ONLY due to hating my options for dick. I guess I've reached rock bottom. I am afraid. We got into a fight in 2003 (or 2002, I can't remember) because he is a spoiled brat. He pissed me off, so I threw his shit on his mommas front porch and told him not to call me again. That was the last time I saw him. He's waited it out. And he called yesterday. And as soon as I heard his voice, I felt the shakes. He wants to see me this weekend. I will probably see him because I'm bored with the niggas that are currently giving me hell. Now do you see why I need intervention? Will you help me now??? I hereby appoint someone to call me all damn day on Saturday starting around...uh... like 3:00 pm PST. Because I'll see him somewhere around then. I'm not even gonna say I wont see him, because I will. So I'll just be lying to myself if I say I ain't gonna see him. If you've got a DC, then thats even better. Get at me. I can't enlist my family on my cause because they hate him (you had to see that coming) and Junior has been waiting for him to come back since 2003 because of the fight. So in their eyes, I'd better not even go over there. But he's calling me, maaan. I'm Pookie offa New Jack City when it comes to him. *sniff* I ain't gonna make it. I been trying too, y'all. I've done so good, I got 3 gold stars already and I was gonna get four. BOOO. Shit damn. All the cuss words I can think of. They're all applicable to this situation right now this very second. So help me. Now. I demand it. Thats the mandate for today. DO IT! That is all.