There are boys…and then there are men. The problem (of our generation is finding a good way to spend iiiit :D) more often than not, is sorting the chaff from the gems. (that actually kinda rhymes. Kinda. Camaaaan.)

I have something against the male species who originate/reside in a specific sub-location in this our Nairobi (which will from now on be referred to as MORDOR). Back when I was young and innocent, and a little further stil, I had several dealings with these species from MORDOR, and I finally gathered sufficient data to conclude the following, characteristics which are applicable to a majority but not necessarily all of the species:

1. The male species from MORDOR should more likely be referred to as boys.
2. The boys of MORDOR are incapable of efficient decision-making, which often leads to girls being led on and long, drawn-out annoying pre-date conversation.
3. The boys of MORDOR also appear to be generally incapable of expressing themselves where females are concerned, as well as having clean dealings with said females (as they nearly always involve more females in what was not supposed to be a menage-a-quatre)

So, I stopped my association with MORDOR and moved on to greener plains, after forming a dating rule: MORDOR? No more. (Yes. Yes, it rhymes.)(Disclaimer: Rules are made to be broken. Or windows, if he behaves in such a manner that deserves such)

I met an ex yesterday (although, I use this term loosely, as we were never official, mostly because I think he was a pansy who just wanted my goodies. He claims differently, but I have watched too many he’s-just-not-that-into-you movies to let his ‘heartfelt speech’ penetrate. Not much else penetrated either. Also, the theory that will soon be explained may also be the reason we were never official). And, as I hear this rarely, if ever, happens, I thanked the Ye Olde Clothing gods for allowing me to look fabulous. (This also takes me back to when we had just decided to part ways, seeing as we could not break up because there was nothing to break up, and I met him at the movies with a friend of mine who didn’t know HE was the one I had been dasting coz they had never met… #awkward…what is it with my friends and my exes? I don’t actually mind, it’s just…can I get a lil warning? Can it please not be so freakin soon after we split? CAMAAAAAAAAAN. Anyhue. He was on a date with her, and I was on a date with my soon-to-be, which made it better. On this particular day, the soon-to-be was a was, which also made it better as I waved happily. Lol. It’s the small things. But really. Don’t you LOVE it when you look so good after it’s over? Which girl doesn’t fervently wish that he still misses you, especially with that particular bra on? Ah, the sweet wallowing of a vengeful soul. wallows deeper)

Anyhue, this particular not-ex resides in MORDOR, and predictably, acted the douche. You know why stereotypes exist? Because they have truth in them. I would probably stop thinking dimunitive thoughts about MORDORians if I could meet more than the paltry few who are sensible.

I leave it to you to figure out where MORDOR is. It shouldn’t be too hard; they’re a special breed.

tSN

p.s. Shout out to Fi and D. :o)