Please raise your hand if you think I'm in New York City to hoe-it-out for a while. Go ahead, I won't judge you—as long as you don't judge me.

Truth is… I realized I have wayyy too much self-respect for myself. Wayyy toooo much. No joke. I'm over here thinking I'm some kind of prize, something to be won. There is no luck involved with getting my panties, its work. But I like to think I'm worth it.

I'm still trying to convince myself otherwise, cause well—WHY NOT? Why shouldn't I be (safely) promiscuous and have casual sex constantly?

BECAUSE… Because… because…

I'M DOPE AS FUCK.

I think I'm that cool. I won't tell you that I have such high-regard for myself, cause that's just narcissistic.

I'm just saying…

I'm not that girl.

I'm the type to make you chicken sopas when you're dying from the flu. I'm the type who you take to a ball game and yells at the ump louder than you. I'm the type "you dream about and wanna wake up with." I'm the type you take home to mom, and the rest of your family.

So excuse me if I feel as though Mr. Random will have no chance of putting his "P" in my "V." He doesn't realize I'm a chick w/ an immature sense of humor, a love for peanut butter and chocolate and a good girl all around.