Mama Don't Mess with Me

Rhonda clocked me a good one on my cheek, this time cause I dissed her shitty personality.  I wisely resisted punching her out.  She was a mixed martial arts expert and I knew she could kill me with a well-placed hand breaking my larynx.

Fortunately, she felt she’d made her point, raped me, took forty bucks from my wallet and left. That’s my ex-girlfriend.  Bitch, beautiful but deadly, and I’d had enough.  Specially mad that she did the nasty and that I got it up in spite of myself.  She’s one foxy home girl, but that don’t give her call to break a rib like she did a month ago.


This was the third time the psycho had beat on me so I went to the cops.  “I want a restraining order.  Get a judge or something to tell that bitch to stay away from me.”


The cop looked cockeyed.  “Your girlfriend beat you up?”  Another cop goes ha-ha.  “Women don’t beat up men,” the booking guy said.  “It’s the other way around, brother.”

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)