Dear Hoes


Dear Hoes,

First of all, forgive me for being so blunt in the title I gave you. I won’t sugar coat it by calling you a Jezebel, a floosy, tramp, trollip, or any other colorful name used to politely describe you sexual vehicles with various drivers and excessive miles . Let’s keep it real. You’re a hoe, but I’m not judging you. If anything, I like it. You suppress your daddy issues and deeply rooted desire to be loved so far down your subconscious that they manifest themselves into an insurmountable and insatiable sexual appetite. I dig it.

I would like to take this opportunity to extend to you, my sincerest thanks. You’re misunderstood and in many ways looked down upon, but I admire you. Thanks for being easy because I don’t always feel like buying drinks or putting in the work to pretend to get to know you. Let me explain.

Your heavily glossed lips that whisper, “come hither” leave me defenseless against your “charms”. You don’t care about my character or my plans for the future. All you need to know is, “your place or mine” and I appreciate that.

Your scantily clad club attire and fruit scented body sprays allure me in ways you could never imagine. Your heavily glossed lips and inappropriate body piercings intrigue me to the very core of my being. You grind in the most dangerous of discotechs against the coolest of crotches  like you’re doing it for money and you know what, I ain’t mad at cha.

Like many men, I work very hard. I work hard at advancing my career and I work hard at maintaining a presentable and desirable physique, so sometimes I appreciate something that takes little effort. That’s your cue.

On some level, you are powerful. There’s something admirable about someone who knows what they want, goes for it, and gives no regard to the onlookers or their comments. Again, not mad at cha. You wear your sexuality on your sleeve like the heart that has probably been broken years ago.

You show up in church in your holiest ensemble (which is still inappropriate by church standards) and plead the blood of Christ to forgive for the sins you committed just hours earlier. You send lust through the loins of deacons and ushers and you can see envy elevating in the eyes of the first lady. But me, I appreciate you. You’re important.

Nothing can exist without its opposite. The rain serves a purpose and no one would appreciate the sun without it. The sophisticated, classy, respectable women of the world would be nothing without you. Without you, they’d all be NON MUTHA F-CKIN FACTORS! If anything, they should thank you. Sure, you probably won’t meet my mother, but if you do what you do well enough, you’ll hear from me again. I mean, until I’m ready to settle down. Until then, stay on stand by.

Thanks for everything

-UrbanRoxtar

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