Happy Birthday, Kissez!!

Today marks a whole year since I started French Kiszing y’all! I can’t even believe it’s been that long!! I really feel like you’ve been going through this dating roller coaster with me all of this time. I can’t even begin to express what I feel when I read the comments, emails, facebook notes, and tweets letting me know you’re reading!

Before I started blogging, I thought I was doing something incorrectly with this dating thing. But I’m learning that so many of us, men and women, have the same fears when it comes to interacting with each other. We share similar experiences and most of us are just trying to get through it. I don’t know about y’all but some days I want to throw up my hands and be over it. Luckily (I think), my desire to eventually be with (not necessarily “find”) Mr. Right overpowers that urge. I don’t know what I’m going to write about when he finally comes along though! 😉

Anyway, THANK YOU to the blog that got me writing and sharing — CocktailOur.com (go check out those crazy chicks CocktailJay and CocktailKay). Thank you to everyone who is reading this. I’m so glad I’m not talking to a dark, empty room. Thanks to my friends who read my posts before I put them up to critique and edit for me. All of you are awesome.

I have so many ideas and things to come soon. Just stick with me, please!

MUAH! :-*



It’s Just Sex. . . What’s the Big Deal?

Have you ever just been a straight sucka for some good Lovin’??

Let’s be honest, it wasn’t really love. Purely physical, nothing emotional about it.

I never understood why it’s considered taboo for women to simply want to experience the act of sex without further involvement?

Men do it and they’re considered to be “acting like a man”.  However a woman who acts in the same manner is considered less than desired.

I say you should do what you need to in order to be happy (without hurting someone else). I’ve been guilty of the “crime” of finding pleasure in being pleasured 😉 There have been one or two gentlemen that I’ve dated and decided I no longer had any mental interest in but the sex was good so I kept them around for my in-between-time. One guy in particular knew all the right spots and I got off every time… he made sure of it. But once we left the bedroom our time was just filled with awkward conversation of no real value. We came to the agreement that we both know what we enjoy doing together, so why try to make it more than that? Let’s just keep this thing up (pun definitely intended) until we can no longer milk the cow!

It is much easier to be honest with someone (and yourself) than try to force a meaningful relationship out of the act of good sex. You’re just going to find that it’s everything but meaningful when the lights come back on (or maybe you’re the type to keep the room lit… whatever you prefer).

Anyway, I like this arrangement and in the meantime I’m keeping my options open. Since my “little girl” is already being taken care of, I can focus on finding someone who stimulates the other aspects of my life. And when I find him, I’ll say good bye to my gentlemen friend. Until then… he keeps me satisfied!

Boy You So Nasty! (not in the good way)

Anyone who knows me, knows I have serious and strange idiosyncrasies about the bathroom… even if you read CocktailOur (if you knew who was writing what), you know how crazy I am about them.


Dirty bathrooms are my BIGGEST pet peeve! If I go to a man’s place and have to use the bathroom you better believe while I’m in there I’m checkin’ the ring around the toilet and the ring around the tub!


It REALLY pisses me off when I go into a grown man’s house (roommate or not) and his tub is varying shades of gray and brown! What the hell!? Do you not see the change in color? Was your tub not white when you moved in? Oh and please don’t get me started on the toilet. . . okay I’m started! If I can tell how bad your aim is as soon as I walk in your bathroom, it’s definitely a deal breaker (if you can’t aim for the toilet, I’m not letting you practice your aim on me! lmao). Whatever happened to flushing for good measure? You knew I was coming over, why didn’t you get rid of those traces of last night’s dinner floating around in there?? Too much?? Okay, I apologize. I just needed to get the point across. I digress.


Anyway, all you not-so-gentle-men, please don’t wonder why I left and didn’t call you the next day. Just check your outhouse for the answer. CLEAN UP!! Your momma would be ashamed!

Good Guy vs Bad Guy

– Written by A MAN and A WOMAN

The scenario: Here are two different guys that are talking to the same girl & these are their unedited thoughts.


Good Guys finish last…

Damn, this isn’t the first time this actually happened to me. I mean I sweet-talked her, I bought her candy & flowers & yet she still acts like I don’t exist. I showed her love & affection I comfort her soul, her problems became mine, on my shoulder she cried & the sex was passionate. I combed my fingers through her hair, whispered that I loved her while I nibbled her ear. I gave her my all. I was there for her through thick & thin, supported her habits & I bought her all the material things she desired. But it was hard for us to spend some quality time because she was either with a “friend” or had some shit on her mind. It took hours just for her to return my calls and then she said “I simply think I need a break from this all.” So I thought was it something I said or better yet, was there something that I’ve could’ve done better? But “NO”, she replied. She said that she needs her space but her friend already told me she’s been out on dates. Ahhh, fuck it! Once again my heart crushed like glass. Why does this always happen to me? I guess its true what they say nice guys always finish last.


Say “hello” to the Bad Guy…

Its so true what they say nice guys always finish last, that’s why I treat girls the way I treat em’ and act the way I act. She be blowing up my phone just to see where I’m at, but I tell her that I’m busy and I’ll call her right back. I don’t sweet talk I simply tell her what it is, I hardly ever take her out and never bought her a gift. And the sex be rough ~ hair pulling and dirty talking, we don’t cuddle I be smacking her ass to keep her going and she loves my style she be digging the kidd, told her girls about the way I be hitting her shit. Now her friend looking at me like they want to get with it, so I told her on the low baby girl you can get it. And my girl heard rumors bout me getting it in, and she cries “baby I don’t want to lose you” to me all the time. At the end this is simply how its meant to be, and I know because this isn’t the first time that its happened to me. Say hello to the bad guy.





. . .And these are her thoughts


Good Guys Finish Last. . .

because they want to. You rely on the label “good guy” as a pass… to be passive. Being a good dude doesn’t mean you don’t have to make any moves. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have to be willing to chase me just for a bit. I like the excitement. And it doesn’t mean that I’m going to be automatically attracted to you because you treat me well. There’s more to it than that. It’s all well and good if you stroke my hair and whisper in my ear, but what if you don’t stimulate my mind (Or anything else)? I’m sorry but you just don’t excite me. And I’m grateful and thankful that you bought me those things. . . but that’s really all they were: things. I never accepted them with an agreement that they were promises of my undying affection, or even my devotion. They were nice… just like you. You are nice. And I won’t take that from you, but I need more. So with that said, yes, I know you found out I’ve been going on dates. I’m exploring my other options.

I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings. Better luck next time!


Hello Mr. Bad Guy. . .

I can’t help but be drawn to you. Even though dealing with you the last time resulted in heartbreak, I’m doing it again because I know you can change. I’m calling your phone, but you won’t pick up! I’ll just try again later… in 5 minutes. Where are you? You said you’d be home. I bet you’re with that chick my girl saw you with in the mall. I do so much for you, drop anything I’m doing, buy you what you want, sex on call. I even let you pull my hair and you know I hate that shit! I’m hearing all kinds of dirt around town about you. Bitches giving me strange looks, but I’m just paranoid right? I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t know what else I can do. I guess this will be over soon. . . we’ve already reached the end.

This may be just what I get for stepping all over a good dude.


-Frenchie (A Woman)

We Used to Have Sex



We Used to Have Sex. . .






He comes up behind me in the club, and I smell him before I see him.

His scent is oh so familiar.

Thought I smelled him last week, felt my heart skip a beat like “oh shit!” but when I turned around it wasn’t him. “whew! dodged that one” I thought.

This time there was no mistaking him as he eased up behind me and slightly grazed his hand against my behind as he bends down to say hello in my ear. It’s loud in here.

“Hey” I say and try to smile.

Damn, did he have to do that? Why does the sight of him always remind me of last summer? Last summer. . . yeah, good times.

And now it’s almost summer again, but we haven’t done those summertime things in a while. Not since the last time it was hot outside.

When he’s near, my mind always floods with memories of looking up at the mirrors as we lay, thinking “so that’s what this looks like…” His reflection was hot to say the least. Laying there contemplating “How do I get him. . . to do more than just this?”

We used to have sex and that’s all it was. Understood by both of us. I don’t think I ever wanted more from him other than in just those times when I lay there in his bed after we were both spent.

And so here we are in the same spot, standing side by side.

Accidentally brushing against each other as he talks to his homeboys and I dance with my girls… We don’t really talk, but every now and then our eyes make contact and I know that he remembers too.

Then it’s me, him and his homeboy outside. We’re talking about nothing, just shooting the breeze and getting some air.

Enjoying his presence, kinda of wondering what he’s doing when he gets out of here.

Contemplating recycling our summertime fling.

But only for a second, because then he ruins it. I’m brought back to reality and reminded why it never went any further than it did. And our only escapades were soley in the bedroom.

I think he was trying to pay a compliment to me, but his words only show how little he actually knows about me beyond those sweaty sheets and king sized mirrors…

He says to his friend “yeah she got that exotic pussy”.

And it all comes crashing down… the fantasy, respect and anything else I may have romanticized about him beyond just a good lay.

I can’t get with that. It’s not me.

And this is why we USED TO have sex. . . that’s the only me he knew. The one that I created for him. The exotic chick I used to play for him 😉

What Happens in Your Stall Stays in Your Stall

. . . bathroom etiquette 

Everyone who knows me also knows that I HATE public bathrooms! I will leave work to go home an pee. Most days I just refuse to use a public bathroom. . . I even moved off campus my freshman year out of bathroom frustration! LoL I could go on and on, but the point is; shared fecal facilities and I do NOT get along!

So here are some tips for you people who are unaware of how to conduct yourselves acceptably when you enter into the private and shared domain of the toilet room

1. Don’t start a conversation with someone you didn’t bring in there with you!

This can lead to misconceptions about the nature of your banter. Haven’t we learned anything from these politicians who’ve gotten arrested in the bathroom for doing exactly that?

I hate bathroom conversation! This is one reasons why I don’t use public restrooms. . . always an uncomfortable situation!

I walk into the bathroom at work. The female security guard comes in directly after me. Then she looks in the first stall & says

“Oh my! Ms. Peggy got her some crabs!”

I say: “Excuse me?!”

She: :Ms. Peggy got crabs! From Raphael, you know him?”

Me: “No. . .”

She: “He gave her some crabs”

then I realize…she was talking about lunch! I shake my head and walk out as she finds a stall suitable to pee in. I held it until she left.

2. There are EIGHT stalls in here. . . why are you right next to me?

Lady. . . I don’t want to hear all the baby farts, and grunting noises as you relieve yourself. . . I’m not interested. Thanks. Then I gotta act like I didn’t hear or smell anything when I wash my hands. Come on! Let’s just avoid an uncomfortable situation.

3. Make sure there’s toilet paper in your stall!

Please ma’am, I’m not trying to pass you any paper under the wall that separates us! Where do you think we are? And I’m not fully clear on what those bathroom language signs are. . . I don’t know what kind of kinky weirdo act passing you toilet paper might signify. . . I’m not into arranged marriages.

4. PLEASE wash your hands!

I don’t need or want what you had for brunch this afternoon to be on any door handle or other surface I may have to touch after you. It’s common courtesy and just plain nasty! And in light of this recent outbreak of Swine Flu… I’m wearing rubber gloves all day just because some people don’t wash their hands! LoL

No Backsies!

They always come back. . .


Why is it that men always want to return to the scene of the crime?

We build a bond and try our hardest to keep him happy, thinking both parties involved are on the same page. Then something happens. They tear our heart into little pieces, and scatter those little shreds along the ground we thought was the foundation of our relationship, and simply walk away.


So of course we cry a little bit, and and maybe mope around for a while. We take our time to search for that strong independent woman we used to be before we pushed her aside to focus on this man. Dig in our back pocket for that bright confidence and womanly strut we own. Remember them? We stuck them in there for safe keeping when we paused to waste some time with Mister. And now we are ready to resume our journey to that Man who is deserving of us.


And just as we are one step into moving on . . . here comes Mister! Why? Why now? That’s always the question we ask ourselves when he arrives again, with the lame “I’m sorry, I was wrong” speech, and the oh-so-sincere look in his eyes (I’m sure he practiced it in the mirror). We sit and listen to his story about how he thought he needed to be free to get with homegirl (and her homegirl). He tells us that at the time he didn’t realize how much he was hurting us and now he knows that we’re worth “so much more”. ( we’ve all been there before).


And for just one minute we want to believe he’s changed. That he learned some kind of lesson while he was out there in the world, doing the tango with that chick we used to call “friend”, oh and that chick he knows we can’t stand, the one he told us was just his friend.


Then we remember that conversation we had that night when told us it’s “just not working out”. We were confused because we thought what he said just that morning was that he loved us.


And now here he comes 6 months later, just when we’re starting to really open up to the new man who’s been making us smile. The one we can’t quite let inside yet, because those old scars haven’t healed completely.


He’s trying to get back to the front of the line that is our life. Trying to take back those words he said when he was trying to explain why we just weren’t “doing it” for him anymore. . . He’s trying to make us give him back our hearts. . . Give him back the trust we put in him when he wasn’t trustworthy. . . Give him back his girl. . .

but we’re no longer that girl.

Now we’ve grown into a woman who knows her true worth.

Remember that childhood phrase though,

I’m sorry but, “No backsies”

You can’t have me back.