So hear me out. If I'm getting ready for a night out and I've actually taken the time to shave and wear a somewhat flattering top that shows off my nonexistent cleavage, chances are I'm tryna tango later on, jah feel?
BUT since I'm a fucking human being with free will and agency, it would be fucking rad if I could CHOOSE who to frick frack with.
Yeah, I wore my booty shorts and heels to make my legs look fine af, but not for any rando 70 year old hippy man at Frog & Peach that tries to drag me to the dance floor to listen to shitty reggae.
Yeah, I wore a skin tight skirt that highlights my great ass that I've toned by eating bacon on the reg, but not to have any sad excuse for the male species grab me like it's some sort of compliment/archaic mating ritual that signals he's down to frick frack and I better be too.
Yeah, I wore a skin tight skirt that highlights my great ass that I've toned by eating bacon on the reg, but not to have any sad excuse for the male species grab me like it's some sort of compliment/archaic mating ritual that signals he's down to frick frack and I better be too.
Yeah, I wore my tiny black dress to look like a seductress of the night in hopes that someone that I find attractive, interesting, and respectful will rip it off me in a frenzy of sexual passion...
but NOT as an invitation for any grimy, reeks-of-stale-beer, self entitled prick to ASSUME that my scantly clad body is public property or that I do not have a preference over who I do or do not let lay hands on my body.
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