- Joined
- Nov 14, 2017
- Messages
- 305
Havenʼt posted one of these in ages. Partly because I havenʼt been doing as much game, but also because if Iʼm pretty clear on what I think happened, Iʼm less inclined to blow the time. (I always take some kind of internal records, but turning that into a polished post is a lot of effort.) But I ran into a doozie the other day, so here goes!
I. Before The Approach
Itʼs Friday. Iʼm wandering my nearest megamall looking for girls to talk to. Been there since just after 10 a.m. Itʼs at this point mid‑afternoon. After bitching out on a number of girls, Iʼd finally approached one shopping in the attached big box store just under three hours earlier, and then taken a food break (only allowed once Iʼve approached). That chick only gave me her Instagram, as discussed here.
The mallʼs fairly busy for a mid‑afternoon, and would get even busier into evening — but in spite of this, Iʼm only about to make four more approaches before leaving around 9:30 p.m. with only the big box store still open. And five is a record for me. Approach anxiety sucks. So does living in this country when only black girls will do. But here I am today, so letʼs do it.
Iʼve actually got a fairly rare thing in my phone — a Bumble match. My first Bumble black girl has yet to open me. I need to extend the match a half hour before the mall closes. However, Iʼm eventually going to forget and lose the match. But fuck Bumble. This mall has actually given me sex. Bumble hasnʼt given me shit.
Iʼm cruising the mall corridors and ahead of me I spot a pair I might be interested in. Woman pushing a baby carriage. Someone else is with her. Someone at least 5ʼ11“ or 180 cm. Maybe taller. A good 8 cm or 3” taller than me. I catch a glimpse, and the taller one has this, for lack of a better explanation, mean look on the face. But neither saw me. The tall oneʼs default facial expression is so hard that I initially think this is a man. But then I catch a better glimpse and realize itʼs a woman. I find myself strangely attracted to her.
She looks Somalian. Not surprising, as a fairly sizable chunk of our African immigrant population is from Somalia. Sheʼs of a skin tone somewhere between caramel and milk chocolate — “Horners” tend to be a bit lighter than other sub‑Saharan Africans. Well, Iʼm a huge fan of dark, but this is still ok. Somali girls have a distinct look that, while not my favorite, I do find quite cute. This isnʼt the cutest Somali girl Iʼve ever seen, but I love tall chicks — especially tall African chicks sporting their natural hair, which this one is.
Well, ok, itʼs dyed dirty blonde towards the top, but itʼs all hers and in its natural texture. She has it tied up at the crown, such that it is slicked along most of her head, its tendency to curl creating cute ripples and the odd escaped strand in the otherwise straight convergence, then exploding at the top into a fluffy mass of small curls.
I donʼt quite find the balls to stop her in the corridor, so before she notices me, I fall back a fair ways behind them. They go into a store that is a cross between a chemistʼs/pharmacy, a beauty shoppe, and a convenience store.
This store has two entrances, so I circle over to the other entrance — I like to seemingly just be in a store, rather than follow a girl in. At this particular moment, I am in luck, because I spot the woman with the carriage in one aisle, and her tall friend is not with her. Meaning the one I want is right now in another aisle, alone. Iʼve sometimes approached pairs, but itʼs a lot more intimidating. I think the realization that this is my perfect chance helps me overcome approach anxiety. I waste no time in finding the other girl.
I wander into her aisle. She is pulling bottles of scented oils off the shelf one by one, opening each to sniff its contents. Her mannerisms convey a sense of, “I donʼt care what anyone thinks of me. Iʼm going to do whatever I want. Oh, and Iʼm hot.”
Fuck, her attitude is sexy.
Another thing that is sexy? She doesnʼt have on much if any makeup or anything. Some girls donʼt wear makeup out of laziness. Or modesty. Or self‑acceptance. But there is a certain kind of girl that doesnʼt wear makeup out of cockiness. Theyʼre rare, but so sexy. And Iʼm standing beside one.
II. The Approach
Iʼm a couple feet or so away, and in front of me are bottles of moisturizing cream.
Courage, please find me. I grab one and tap the girl with it. Phew — thank you courage! Miss Cocky looks over with sort of a silent “yeah, what is it?” expression — a sort of cool, measured impatience, like a billionaire telling someone coming to him with an idea, “ok, say your piece, but donʼt waste my time.”
“Think this could soften Donald Trump?”
A very pretty smile darts over her exotic features just momentarily as she lets out an emphatic yet half-laughed, “NO!” that Iʼm sure the entire store can hear.
I donʼt know why I always seem to have to follow this sort of thing up with a logical answer. “Me neither,” I say. It would far later occur to me that agreeing with her was a terrible mistake, and that instead I ought to have said, “Yeah, it could. You just have to drown him in it!”
Each time she gives me any attention, itʼs only in a little slice, after which she unceremoniously returns to her oils.
“I love the Afro puff.”
She makes me repeat. I probably could have been more forceful, but part of me was a bit intimidated, I suspect. Well, some guy in Scotland is getting thrown in jail for telling random women theyʼre pretty and making them feel “uncomfortable” — what do you want from me? XD
She thanks me, very minimally.
“Tell me your name.”
She says nothing. She continues her assessments of the products in front of her as though she had not even heard. But I strongly suspect she had.
This does not feel great. Iʼm now rather self‑conscious, but I try not to show it, instead wandering away a couple feet and feigning interest in something on the shelf.
With most women, Iʼd have just thrown in the towel at this point. Well, most women donʼt pull this kind of shit on me, but most who do, arenʼt worth doubling down on my social risk over.
But something inside me wanted this woman a good bit more than Iʼd want most. So, I wander back over. Sheʼs still opening and smelling the oils with that same sexy air of impudence.
I ask her which one was the best.
“NONE OF THEM!”
She exclaims this with such sharp sarcastic rebuke as to almost suggest that the mere thought that anything or anyone in this store is worthy of her is utterly laughable.
Had this been one of those dark, dark, cherub-faced South Sudanese chicks but completely identical in every other respect, my brain would have been entirely overcome by the thought, “Must impregnate this woman right now at all costs!!”
I momentarily grab her arm through her coat and tease, “Youʼre hard to please!”
“Very!”, she emphatically snaps.
“Whatʼs your name?”, I query while poking her arm lightly. I donʼt normally ask this way, preferring to phrase it as an instruction — but that hadnʼt worked.
She says nothing.
I canʼt deal with this any more. I wander off, and soon the both of us leave the aisle in opposite directions. I enter the next aisle over.
“Security, please scan all sections,” the P.A. blurts out.
Now, which shelf are those bandages on, again?
III. Immediate Thoughts
It didnʼt take long after the approach before I came to an important realization.
A beginner would probably see this as a simple case of, girl not interested, nothing I couldʼve done about it. But Iʼve approached enough girls to know how they act when they just want me to go away, and thatʼs not how she was acting. The way she was acting was more like, “Bitch, please.”
I felt like she was tossing me around like a rag doll and furthermore that she was doing it on purpose because she figured she could.
Minutes after the approach, with it very fresh in my mind, I very much felt like the whole snappiness bit was one big giant shit test... like she was challenging me to dominate the fuck out of her.
I also remember something that Chase has said, that horny girls may seem short‑tempered.
I started thinking that just maybe, I ought to have put my hand around her arm, kept it there until she actually looked at me, and then said firmly and confidently while looking straight at her, “Tell me your name.” Instinctively I think sheʼd have reacted much better. But running shit that way in one of the worldʼs feminazi capitals is a terrifying proposition. The fear that I might get kicked out of the mall or worse is, in the #metoo age, not entirely irrational.
I actually think thatʼs yet another reason to move to Africa. In the West, Iʼm scared shitless to be a man.
Speaking of Africa, as much as I hate to stereotype, it doesnʼt even remotely surprise me that a girl acting like this was Somalian. Iʼve hit on a few Somali girls before, and in my experience so far, theyʼve pretty much always been difficult. Well, not so much snappy or super‑cocky like this one, but still difficult. Iʼve actually found it a quite noticeable contrast from other African girls, who have very often been really sweet and open.
The only other nationality of girl Iʼve found consistently difficult are Nigerians. Even Jamaicans, who Iʼd expect to be difficult, are not so consistently difficult. (The first girl I seduced was Jamaican.)
To me, thereʼs just something really tricky about Somali girls specifically. I just went over notes from an approach almost two years ago on a tall Somali girl, and there were similarities. Out of a few others, I canʼt think of a single one that actually went well. And one time I had a Somali girl who was shopping in a clothing store actually give me a compliment out of nowhere, and even then I couldnʼt close the girl. SMDH.
(Iʼd almost have thought to ask my friend from Ethiopia (west of Somalia) about this, but heʼd probably be useless. I recently made an offhand mention about my hitting on a Somali girl, and he responded, mystified as though I had just told him something patently senseless, “Why would you hit on a Somali girl? What is wrong with you?! Theyʼre ugly!” He went on to say some remarkably offensive things about Somalians, and among other things attacked their psychological disposition. I found the extent of his prejudice rather shocking.)
IV. Religion and Culture
In my city, demographics seem to be such that:
black + Muslim = probably Somali.
Iʼm thinking that, as such, my specifically going for black girls may mean that peculiarities that *I* have attributed to Somali girls, are in fact actually peculiarities of Muslim girls. (Or girls from Muslim countries. Somalia is a Muslim country.) This would explain why Somali girls in particular have struck me as way different to hit on than other African girls.
Some would call this a matter of incompatible faith. As a straight up white guy in the West, itʼs going to be assumed Iʼm not Muslim, and Iʼm not.
But these Somali girls Iʼve hit on really donʼt strike me as having been the religious type. I basically have yet to hit on a girl who even wears hijab. Iʼm certainly not against it, especially after @Sandman has reported that itʼs most often just cultural and usually doesnʼt mean theyʼre religiously strict. Itʼs just never happened yet. (Actually, it very nearly happened a few months ago. Really cute, tall Somali girl in hijab I was checking on in a department store. But an older lady, her mom I think, was hovering nearby, yapping on her phone in an Eastern tongue, and I was hoping the girl would tear off long enough to approach, but she didnʼt.)
I really donʼt think itʼs an “I canʼt date him because heʼs not Muslim” thing. I think itʼs an entirely different aspect.
Not to be politically incorrect, but the Qurʼan strongly suggests that women are subordinate to men. Well, Christianity is not exactly feminist, either, but Christianity has been diluted to Hell and back. (I was once a dinner guest at a Muslim friendʼs home, and somehow religion came up in conversation. I mentioned that the Qurʼan explicitly states that men are designed to excel beyond women. The husband quickly denied this emphatically, only to have his wife counter, “actually, yes, it does say that.” LMAO.)
Now, I donʼt think this discrepancy Iʼve seen between Somali women and non‑Muslim women is directly religious. But I suspect the religion has produced a culture where men are basically expected to be more dominant with women.
Try hitting on a woman coming from a country where thatʼs normalcy by treating her exactly the way Western women expect to be treated, and sheʼs probably going to look at you as a weak pussy.
Well, at least thatʼs what my experience and insight here seem to be leaning towards.
V. Other Notes
Another point of self-feedback is that, especially given this being a cocky chick, I may have harmed myself by watching her reaction after delivering the opener. It seems kind of approval-seeking. Maybe I ought to have looked away or something.
I also at some point copied her by sniffing from one of the bottles in front of me. Well, it was just moisturizer, so this was slightly silly. Iʼm not sure if I was in my right mind to copy a girl — somewhat of a rapport-seeking behaviour, I reckon — who was clearly exuding superiority.
The approach also reminded me of just how much I love cocky chicks. Well, physically, Iʼm far and away most attracted to South Sudanese chicks. But the brief, mostly remote glimpses Iʼve had donʼt paint most of them as cocky, so I kinda halfway forgot about just what a cocky chick does to me.
Sweetheart girls can attract me physically, but this particular sort of halfways rude, self-centered, uber‑confident cocky chick is SUPER attractive to me on a psychological level. Had a huge crush on one a few years ago.. tall Afro/Indo-Caribbean mix. She was so full of herself it twisted my brain into thinking she was a lot prettier than I figure I might have found her otherwise. (To this day I find Indian girls a little prettier than I did before I met her.) If cockiness can do that to even a male brain, I canʼt even imagine what it must do to a female brain!
VI. Going Forward
Just as an experiment, Iʼm going to at least try to be much more bold and dominant when Iʼm hitting on a Somali girl. (As much as dominant unfortunately does not come naturally to me.) Absolutely not out of any sort of prejudice or racism, but simply because I honestly am starting to think thatʼs what they expect and that theyʼre going to just keep walking me in the park if I donʼt.
So, if you find out that I was thrown in jail, it was probably a Somali girl. XD
Iʼd laugh if as a result of this test, all of a sudden, I find Iʼm fucking Somali girls left and right and meanwhile not having as much luck with the other girls. That would certainly tell me Iʼve been way too deferent with women in general!
I. Before The Approach
Itʼs Friday. Iʼm wandering my nearest megamall looking for girls to talk to. Been there since just after 10 a.m. Itʼs at this point mid‑afternoon. After bitching out on a number of girls, Iʼd finally approached one shopping in the attached big box store just under three hours earlier, and then taken a food break (only allowed once Iʼve approached). That chick only gave me her Instagram, as discussed here.
The mallʼs fairly busy for a mid‑afternoon, and would get even busier into evening — but in spite of this, Iʼm only about to make four more approaches before leaving around 9:30 p.m. with only the big box store still open. And five is a record for me. Approach anxiety sucks. So does living in this country when only black girls will do. But here I am today, so letʼs do it.
Iʼve actually got a fairly rare thing in my phone — a Bumble match. My first Bumble black girl has yet to open me. I need to extend the match a half hour before the mall closes. However, Iʼm eventually going to forget and lose the match. But fuck Bumble. This mall has actually given me sex. Bumble hasnʼt given me shit.
Iʼm cruising the mall corridors and ahead of me I spot a pair I might be interested in. Woman pushing a baby carriage. Someone else is with her. Someone at least 5ʼ11“ or 180 cm. Maybe taller. A good 8 cm or 3” taller than me. I catch a glimpse, and the taller one has this, for lack of a better explanation, mean look on the face. But neither saw me. The tall oneʼs default facial expression is so hard that I initially think this is a man. But then I catch a better glimpse and realize itʼs a woman. I find myself strangely attracted to her.
She looks Somalian. Not surprising, as a fairly sizable chunk of our African immigrant population is from Somalia. Sheʼs of a skin tone somewhere between caramel and milk chocolate — “Horners” tend to be a bit lighter than other sub‑Saharan Africans. Well, Iʼm a huge fan of dark, but this is still ok. Somali girls have a distinct look that, while not my favorite, I do find quite cute. This isnʼt the cutest Somali girl Iʼve ever seen, but I love tall chicks — especially tall African chicks sporting their natural hair, which this one is.
Well, ok, itʼs dyed dirty blonde towards the top, but itʼs all hers and in its natural texture. She has it tied up at the crown, such that it is slicked along most of her head, its tendency to curl creating cute ripples and the odd escaped strand in the otherwise straight convergence, then exploding at the top into a fluffy mass of small curls.
I donʼt quite find the balls to stop her in the corridor, so before she notices me, I fall back a fair ways behind them. They go into a store that is a cross between a chemistʼs/pharmacy, a beauty shoppe, and a convenience store.
This store has two entrances, so I circle over to the other entrance — I like to seemingly just be in a store, rather than follow a girl in. At this particular moment, I am in luck, because I spot the woman with the carriage in one aisle, and her tall friend is not with her. Meaning the one I want is right now in another aisle, alone. Iʼve sometimes approached pairs, but itʼs a lot more intimidating. I think the realization that this is my perfect chance helps me overcome approach anxiety. I waste no time in finding the other girl.
I wander into her aisle. She is pulling bottles of scented oils off the shelf one by one, opening each to sniff its contents. Her mannerisms convey a sense of, “I donʼt care what anyone thinks of me. Iʼm going to do whatever I want. Oh, and Iʼm hot.”
Fuck, her attitude is sexy.
Another thing that is sexy? She doesnʼt have on much if any makeup or anything. Some girls donʼt wear makeup out of laziness. Or modesty. Or self‑acceptance. But there is a certain kind of girl that doesnʼt wear makeup out of cockiness. Theyʼre rare, but so sexy. And Iʼm standing beside one.
II. The Approach
Iʼm a couple feet or so away, and in front of me are bottles of moisturizing cream.
Courage, please find me. I grab one and tap the girl with it. Phew — thank you courage! Miss Cocky looks over with sort of a silent “yeah, what is it?” expression — a sort of cool, measured impatience, like a billionaire telling someone coming to him with an idea, “ok, say your piece, but donʼt waste my time.”
“Think this could soften Donald Trump?”
A very pretty smile darts over her exotic features just momentarily as she lets out an emphatic yet half-laughed, “NO!” that Iʼm sure the entire store can hear.
I donʼt know why I always seem to have to follow this sort of thing up with a logical answer. “Me neither,” I say. It would far later occur to me that agreeing with her was a terrible mistake, and that instead I ought to have said, “Yeah, it could. You just have to drown him in it!”
Each time she gives me any attention, itʼs only in a little slice, after which she unceremoniously returns to her oils.
“I love the Afro puff.”
She makes me repeat. I probably could have been more forceful, but part of me was a bit intimidated, I suspect. Well, some guy in Scotland is getting thrown in jail for telling random women theyʼre pretty and making them feel “uncomfortable” — what do you want from me? XD
She thanks me, very minimally.
“Tell me your name.”
She says nothing. She continues her assessments of the products in front of her as though she had not even heard. But I strongly suspect she had.
This does not feel great. Iʼm now rather self‑conscious, but I try not to show it, instead wandering away a couple feet and feigning interest in something on the shelf.
With most women, Iʼd have just thrown in the towel at this point. Well, most women donʼt pull this kind of shit on me, but most who do, arenʼt worth doubling down on my social risk over.
But something inside me wanted this woman a good bit more than Iʼd want most. So, I wander back over. Sheʼs still opening and smelling the oils with that same sexy air of impudence.
I ask her which one was the best.
“NONE OF THEM!”
She exclaims this with such sharp sarcastic rebuke as to almost suggest that the mere thought that anything or anyone in this store is worthy of her is utterly laughable.
Had this been one of those dark, dark, cherub-faced South Sudanese chicks but completely identical in every other respect, my brain would have been entirely overcome by the thought, “Must impregnate this woman right now at all costs!!”
I momentarily grab her arm through her coat and tease, “Youʼre hard to please!”
“Very!”, she emphatically snaps.
“Whatʼs your name?”, I query while poking her arm lightly. I donʼt normally ask this way, preferring to phrase it as an instruction — but that hadnʼt worked.
She says nothing.
I canʼt deal with this any more. I wander off, and soon the both of us leave the aisle in opposite directions. I enter the next aisle over.
“Security, please scan all sections,” the P.A. blurts out.
Now, which shelf are those bandages on, again?
III. Immediate Thoughts
It didnʼt take long after the approach before I came to an important realization.
A beginner would probably see this as a simple case of, girl not interested, nothing I couldʼve done about it. But Iʼve approached enough girls to know how they act when they just want me to go away, and thatʼs not how she was acting. The way she was acting was more like, “Bitch, please.”
I felt like she was tossing me around like a rag doll and furthermore that she was doing it on purpose because she figured she could.
Minutes after the approach, with it very fresh in my mind, I very much felt like the whole snappiness bit was one big giant shit test... like she was challenging me to dominate the fuck out of her.
I also remember something that Chase has said, that horny girls may seem short‑tempered.
I started thinking that just maybe, I ought to have put my hand around her arm, kept it there until she actually looked at me, and then said firmly and confidently while looking straight at her, “Tell me your name.” Instinctively I think sheʼd have reacted much better. But running shit that way in one of the worldʼs feminazi capitals is a terrifying proposition. The fear that I might get kicked out of the mall or worse is, in the #metoo age, not entirely irrational.
I actually think thatʼs yet another reason to move to Africa. In the West, Iʼm scared shitless to be a man.
Speaking of Africa, as much as I hate to stereotype, it doesnʼt even remotely surprise me that a girl acting like this was Somalian. Iʼve hit on a few Somali girls before, and in my experience so far, theyʼve pretty much always been difficult. Well, not so much snappy or super‑cocky like this one, but still difficult. Iʼve actually found it a quite noticeable contrast from other African girls, who have very often been really sweet and open.
The only other nationality of girl Iʼve found consistently difficult are Nigerians. Even Jamaicans, who Iʼd expect to be difficult, are not so consistently difficult. (The first girl I seduced was Jamaican.)
To me, thereʼs just something really tricky about Somali girls specifically. I just went over notes from an approach almost two years ago on a tall Somali girl, and there were similarities. Out of a few others, I canʼt think of a single one that actually went well. And one time I had a Somali girl who was shopping in a clothing store actually give me a compliment out of nowhere, and even then I couldnʼt close the girl. SMDH.
(Iʼd almost have thought to ask my friend from Ethiopia (west of Somalia) about this, but heʼd probably be useless. I recently made an offhand mention about my hitting on a Somali girl, and he responded, mystified as though I had just told him something patently senseless, “Why would you hit on a Somali girl? What is wrong with you?! Theyʼre ugly!” He went on to say some remarkably offensive things about Somalians, and among other things attacked their psychological disposition. I found the extent of his prejudice rather shocking.)
IV. Religion and Culture
In my city, demographics seem to be such that:
black + Muslim = probably Somali.
Iʼm thinking that, as such, my specifically going for black girls may mean that peculiarities that *I* have attributed to Somali girls, are in fact actually peculiarities of Muslim girls. (Or girls from Muslim countries. Somalia is a Muslim country.) This would explain why Somali girls in particular have struck me as way different to hit on than other African girls.
Some would call this a matter of incompatible faith. As a straight up white guy in the West, itʼs going to be assumed Iʼm not Muslim, and Iʼm not.
But these Somali girls Iʼve hit on really donʼt strike me as having been the religious type. I basically have yet to hit on a girl who even wears hijab. Iʼm certainly not against it, especially after @Sandman has reported that itʼs most often just cultural and usually doesnʼt mean theyʼre religiously strict. Itʼs just never happened yet. (Actually, it very nearly happened a few months ago. Really cute, tall Somali girl in hijab I was checking on in a department store. But an older lady, her mom I think, was hovering nearby, yapping on her phone in an Eastern tongue, and I was hoping the girl would tear off long enough to approach, but she didnʼt.)
I really donʼt think itʼs an “I canʼt date him because heʼs not Muslim” thing. I think itʼs an entirely different aspect.
Not to be politically incorrect, but the Qurʼan strongly suggests that women are subordinate to men. Well, Christianity is not exactly feminist, either, but Christianity has been diluted to Hell and back. (I was once a dinner guest at a Muslim friendʼs home, and somehow religion came up in conversation. I mentioned that the Qurʼan explicitly states that men are designed to excel beyond women. The husband quickly denied this emphatically, only to have his wife counter, “actually, yes, it does say that.” LMAO.)
Now, I donʼt think this discrepancy Iʼve seen between Somali women and non‑Muslim women is directly religious. But I suspect the religion has produced a culture where men are basically expected to be more dominant with women.
Try hitting on a woman coming from a country where thatʼs normalcy by treating her exactly the way Western women expect to be treated, and sheʼs probably going to look at you as a weak pussy.
Well, at least thatʼs what my experience and insight here seem to be leaning towards.
V. Other Notes
Another point of self-feedback is that, especially given this being a cocky chick, I may have harmed myself by watching her reaction after delivering the opener. It seems kind of approval-seeking. Maybe I ought to have looked away or something.
I also at some point copied her by sniffing from one of the bottles in front of me. Well, it was just moisturizer, so this was slightly silly. Iʼm not sure if I was in my right mind to copy a girl — somewhat of a rapport-seeking behaviour, I reckon — who was clearly exuding superiority.
The approach also reminded me of just how much I love cocky chicks. Well, physically, Iʼm far and away most attracted to South Sudanese chicks. But the brief, mostly remote glimpses Iʼve had donʼt paint most of them as cocky, so I kinda halfway forgot about just what a cocky chick does to me.
Sweetheart girls can attract me physically, but this particular sort of halfways rude, self-centered, uber‑confident cocky chick is SUPER attractive to me on a psychological level. Had a huge crush on one a few years ago.. tall Afro/Indo-Caribbean mix. She was so full of herself it twisted my brain into thinking she was a lot prettier than I figure I might have found her otherwise. (To this day I find Indian girls a little prettier than I did before I met her.) If cockiness can do that to even a male brain, I canʼt even imagine what it must do to a female brain!
VI. Going Forward
Just as an experiment, Iʼm going to at least try to be much more bold and dominant when Iʼm hitting on a Somali girl. (As much as dominant unfortunately does not come naturally to me.) Absolutely not out of any sort of prejudice or racism, but simply because I honestly am starting to think thatʼs what they expect and that theyʼre going to just keep walking me in the park if I donʼt.
So, if you find out that I was thrown in jail, it was probably a Somali girl. XD
Iʼd laugh if as a result of this test, all of a sudden, I find Iʼm fucking Somali girls left and right and meanwhile not having as much luck with the other girls. That would certainly tell me Iʼve been way too deferent with women in general!
