What Happened to Bad Boys? (by Moon)

Girls,

Remember when we used to watch Guns n' Roses music video or listen to Aerosmith shouting "I GO CRAAAAZY, CRAAAZY --- BABE, I GO CRAAAAZY!" ?? My point exactly: What happened to those kinda guys? The ones that stole you a kiss, not really caring if you would slap him across the face or not. Those guys who, as soon as they realized there was someone else around you, would IMMEDIATELY mark their territory? Where are the guys that called you, wooed you, fucked you ALL NIGHT LONG? (don't make that face, you know you like that!)

I believe this thing about eating organic foods messed up men testosterone somehow. I don't know about you girls, but I've been dealing with some men who will even hesitate to hold my hand! The kind of guy who takes 5 hours to reply your text, who take you out to show off his new Porsche AND has football game on the radio - yup! he even celebrates a touchdown! (God know the ONLY touchdown I'm hoping for has nothing to do with football!)

Well, this same dude saw me wearing a tight tank top and jeans and had the nerve to say "Gosh, you're half naked!" Hold on: This is still California!!! Since when a nice flat stomach and sexy tattoo is outrageous?!

After the conservative, non-sense comment, I decided to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. So after our "lunch" (Nutella Sandwich), the guy drops me off. And takes off. What was that all about? Oh yeah, maybe he can't wait to get back to his garage and stick his "pipì" into his new Porsche fuel hole..

But you know, I'm a girl. I'm impulsive.. and a little crazy, so I immediately call him : "Hey youuuu... come back, I forgot to give you something!" By the time I hung up the phone, I was already sweating all over and thinking "This can't be good, you're crazyyyy crazyyyy, babe, YOU ARE CRAAAZY" So he makes a U turn, stops in front of my building. So I walk over to his car, open the door, throw my purse on the floor, grab him by his shirt and make out. FULL ON MAKING OUT. Then I look at him, take my purse, say "byebye" and slam his stupid Porsche's door really hard.

Question:

Do you think he got off the car singing some Aerosmith song? Or ran after me, pulled me by the hair and threw on top of his sports car ripping off my clothes? NOPE.

Darling, this loser and a half took off. At 35 miles per hour - afterall, that IS the speed limit.