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Roses

Over the course of every relationship, there are a bunch of different levels you reach. There’s the first kiss, the first time you see each other naked, the first time you meet the parents, etc. Relationships are one big ass video game where you keep trying to beat levels to get the ultimate prize.

I’m not actually sure what the ultimate prize is but we’re all socialized to believe that there is one after you get married so let’s just assume that actually happens. Mmkay?

Mmkay.

Now most of those levels are attained together and even without a verbal confirmation, both parties generally understand that you’ve just beat the last villain and have moved up a difficulty.

However, there is one level that isn’t achieved together in a traditional sense. It’s one that calls into question exactly how two individuals might view one another.

It’s all about that real (hip-hop).

Follow me now.

Say the two of you (man and woman) are sitting on the couch watching television. You’re playing those funny little cutesy games where you pretend you’re wrestling for wrestling sake but its really all just foreplay. You both are drinking beers and eating chips and watching Ocean’s 13 when she looks right into your eyes, then looks at the television, lifts her left leg and poots like its nobody’s business. In fact, forget the euphemistic term “poot”…she straight up farts. Loudy. Manly.

And it ain’t a silent-but-deadly here. Nope. This one packs a punch.

People, the dog leaves the room.

As a human, we all understand that men and women both get a little gassy and have to release the hounds on occasion. But honestly, some men just aren’t ready to handle it. And similarly, some women are never ready to let a man know they actually renegade the twalet.

Most women want men to think that they sh*t flowers and poot daffodils and have cutesy, tiny burps. And most men are happy with women letting them think this. There are those women who come at you off top with this whole, “I’m a real person” mantra who will burp in front of you and pass BP and stuff. Thing is, I know some guys who “appreciate” that…to a certain point. At the point where you’re having impromptu undesired competitive burping contests, it might start to get a little annoying.

This is that interesting level where things get sticky. Men, we like to think of our women’s icky bathroom activities kind of like graffiti-esque stretchmarks and Monica Lewinsky’s dirty dress – we know it exists, but we’d just prefer to never see it and pretend it didn’t. At the point where you introduce the funk to the P, I have to determine just how comfortable I am with my “lady” being less “ladylike”. For me, it’s not that big a deal, but then again, I’ve never actually dated a chick who’d try to pull a Dutch Oven on me. And really, I’m not sure how I’d handle it. But I do know some dudes who would let a chick go who was too free with herself and her not-solid-not-liquid emissions.

I did date one chick who let one rip so effervescently that I still remember it to this day. And she was sleep and it kcuffed up my WHOLE day. I just wasn’t ready. We got over it…mostly because it woke her up out of her sleep and she had to leave the room too. She was embarrassed and I couldn’t stop talking about it. Just a bad combination.

But still, I remember it to this day.

So anyway, falks, at what point do you women feel its okay to just be free like Deniece Williams? To my brohams, do you prefer a woman who seems too dainty and sh*t to let it rip? Or do you want “such a f*cking lady?” who’s motto is “better out than in!”

Inquiring minds would like to know.

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