Tag Archive: girls

Female post

This is a female post.

Post for women.

So I would reccomend to all the guys just to leave and not bother with it.

The Almighty knows that I don`t fall for brands. I`m just not touched by all this grand names.

I know that lots of woman save, starve and doing whatever they can, just to get that dark piece of signatured desire. Because they want it. They want it bad. I presume that then, that fabulous piece, represents the compensation for something far more expensive, like selfconfidence or sometimes even love. Just to get that feeling…

But, how it usually goes, when you are not sighing and trembeling about something, that something simply walks into your life. Without any stress. And so, day before yesterday, a red Dior bag walked into my life. A very beautiful red Dior bag. It was given to me, I said thank you, took it and left.  When we were left alone, the bag and me, I looked at it more carefully. A very simple design, the way I like it, but fantasticly red. And it`s mine.

Considering that at the moment I really didn`t have a clue where am I going to take it, I`ve just  drop it on the dresser. And then we looked at each other for a while. The bag and me…

She, so joyful and playful, tipically French, with that joie the vivre sparkling from her, just stands there observing me with glee, asking „where will we go, the two of us?“ with the inevitable giggling. I am sitting on the armchair, returing her the look and smiling gracefully, just how you should with fine ladies, and answering her that I don`t know. Because I really don`t. Don`t have a clue.

And then I discovered something else – that I feel like a highlander in her presence.As a lumberjack, to be more precised. I do because, in the past few months, I have totally neglected my female appearing dimension.

The external, easy fixing, high heel-make-uping, shining, colorful, sexy, seducing dimension. The one with mandatory dressing up from at least half an hour of carefuly picking clothes, make up and shoes. I have replaced it with I`m-in-a-hurry-give-something-practical-and-comfortable dimension.

How it happened? You know, first I`ve decided not to buy any new clothes for a while because my closets are already bursting from it, then I got so many engagements for which that dressed up look it`s just not practical, so I`ve just pushed the fine pieces at the back and placed the comfortable clothes at the front. Easy peasy.

So I`ve post-poned the good looks for some other times. Left my feminality in post tense.

And I must say that I did almost fanatically. Because it is really not important that I look good when I have so many things to do! OK, I don`t wear flanel without the bra and I don`t wear sweat pants but I definitively don`t look raveshing.

But it is important. For a woman. To feel sexy. To dress up, look herself in the mirror and loves what she sees. To feel like a fine expensive artwork.

And now I know why that wonderful red thing came  into my life – to wake me up. With that shiny red colour. On it`s gentle non-verbal way, it touched that unfailing point of femininity. And brought a sanguinel playful breath of personal pampering and caring.

Love. The word is love.

Because I`m here. In all dimensions.

Also as a fine dressed up babe who looks herself pleased in the mirror.

Because I deserve it, vol.3.

We sung last night, Iggy and I…. No fun to be alone… And somehow we synced. With the rythm and general condition. Without the applause of the crowd went wild. Just the two of us.

Then I replaced the heartbreaking atmosphere with a social glass of wine, offered by a friend. Logical as he is, he didn`t saw any downers, just a win-win situation. Fuck it, wrong audience!

Somehow we started talking about a guy we both know. They call him The Magician.

He replaced the cylinder hat with black Doc Martens and the rabbits with pure sex. Must emphasize that the guy is far from the general apprehension of attractiveness or hotness but he scores. Oh, he scores bigtime! And the ones he scores ARE pretty and really hot!

He`s not tall, acually he is quite short, not goodlooking, not rich. But his score is just fantastic. Sweet young peaches, older broads, married ones, ordinary ones, truely and really hot ones – all his.

The question is how?

Why him, howcome not somebody else, someone far more hotter, gets his piece of action so much sparsely?

Then I had an an epiphany – go with the flow. That`s it!

The thing is… he`s got an excellent style. And a very refreshing one. You just don`t feel any burden with him. He is always sunny, on a silent and gentle way. He doesn`t have any, so commonly met, peacock excesses, when a guy boasts and shows of. Men, when they try to impress a woman, so often exaggerate with wittiness, narcissistic performances, their importance in this world, their relevance at work, among his friends… You always get a „look at me!“ modus operandi.

But not with the Magician. With him, you can expect just absolute cosiness. He doesn`t harass you or disturb you, his compliments are always friendly never ambiguous…He always glides by the woman, following her rythm and needs.

No always means no.

He is patient and tactful, always pleasant, never ever agressive. He doesn`t protrudes, preaches, moans, complains, he always gives a feeling to the woman that it is all about her. On his calm and smiling way.

That`s it. No mince, no Oscar nomination, just slow and easy sliding.

And damn, he`s good at it!

Got a call last night. On the other side of the line was a familar and dear female creature with a lot of excitment in her voice, saying: „Wooooooooooooow honey, I met a Lovely! It was… unreal. You have to see him… I`ve almost died, he`s…. Ah! Soooooooo  hot!!!“.

The classical definition of a Lovely is: a man, late 30s or early 40s, charming, well preserved, with magnetic attraction, painfully hot, has all hair which is greyish on the sides.

So she asked if I`m online and if I could Google him. (A classical stalker approach.) She said his name and Google revealed a well known intelectual. Just as an info, her last One was an old, chubby, cranky, boldy…something so now I expected something really good.

Her next line was: „Find his photo! There must be a photo!“.

So I did, sincerly hoping to see this:

In stead of it I got…  Noooooooo…. Can`t be…. This just can`t be it…..Is this a joke?….Damn!!!

Jesus Mary and… ! And again, damn woman!!! What the….?!?

The guy is over 50, maybe even older. In stead of the hair, he`s got few white….fluffy… bushes which are struting on his shiny bald spots, to be precise – every 15 inches you find a grmičak followed by an airport run… And his face, pure pedophile. You know, chubby and wrinkled, with a pretty disturbing smile. Short, chubby, all lard and swing.

And again, damn!

Then she asked: „Isn`t he georgious????“ – and I… I couldn`t speak.

I couldn`t because THAT was one of the ugliest creatures I ever saw! 100% sleezy.

So I kept my mouth shot in disbelief, trying to recuperate, while she was sighing. And smiling. And giggling. And sighing again.

And I finally said…. `Cause….This is… This…is… I mean was….Well…

Woman, are you feeling alright? That fever that you`re mentioning, have you been eating something strange today? Or perhaps you started to use some drugs? Helooooooo? Anyone?

Like first, he`s surely more than 20 years older from you! Probably more. Secondly, if you like older men, at least choose something really sexy and attractive! You call this hot?!? THIS couldn`t be loved not even by his own mother!

There are some really hot examples of the Lovely but this… He looks like someone`s horny uncle!

And why you need older men anyway? What`s wrong with your father? Why do you need two?!? And for crying out loud, why, oh why they have to be so ugly??? You`re young, attractive, educated and funny, you can choose amongst an army of goodlooking guys!

And no, here you can`t use the phrase „Beauty is a realtive thing“. This is not relative, this is completly and totally old, ugly and sleezy.

When they say Oldie and goldie, they don`t reffer to that.

There must be a fault in the evolutional code. Some nasty mistake which pushes the Beauties towards the arms of geriatric Beasts. So that they could push them back (or their wheels) towards infinity.

And I must say, I understand the Oldies, we all like the spring,  but what`s with the Spring roses? Were their fathers so cold and distant that they keep searching for that love forever?

And what when Spring roses get older, then what? How to teach them to give themselves all the love they missed?

Surely not through some dry wrinkled hands.