Status: What a weekend

What a weekend. Friday at work was spent with my supervisor trying to set me up with a co-worker. One whom I have no interest in what so ever. He's a nice guy but just not my type. Worse part was that he got in on the fixings and ended up getting his feelings hurt repeatily. Poor thing. I'm just not interested. To my surprise, 8 hours later, he still ask me out. And I declined. Great guy. Good friend. Excellent conversator. Just not my type.

Saturday. Awwww. Cashmir came to see me. I've explained to you guys in a previous Urban Writing blog who he is. Man-o-man. I tell ya. That man's essence needs to be bottled up and sold to every man wanting to know how to make a women float. I have known him for over 10 years, and it amazes how well his energy has remained within him just like the first day we met. I admire him so much and wish that more black men were like him. Mentally, he is perfect, he pays attention, tells me things about my self that I didn't know he was paying attention to. Physically, ladies, ladies, ladies... Not one flaw. Perfect skin. Beautiful eyes. Straight white teeth. Nice smile. Clean fingernails. Now you guys know how I feel about David Oliver. But sorry D, Cashmir! Ha! Can't touch him. We were sitting on the bench and I was telling him how I've wrote about him. He laughed y'all. Ha ha ha. Yeah ok. The funny thing about us is that after 10+ years, we have never crossed
the line that takes us from true friends to anything else. Never. Brothas def need to take notes from this man. And ladies.... Naw, nevermind, y'all can't handle my boy.