I reread the ad, make sure it conveys exactly what I want, need, it to say, then press the PUBLISH tab. “There,” I say aloud, glancing around my bedroom, then looking down at my left hand. “Let’s see how many responses I get, this time.”

Ummm, wait…before I say anything else. I already know some of you uptight bitches are shaking your heads and rolling your eyes. What I’m about to tell ya’ll is going to make some of you disgusted, and that’s fine by me. It is what it is. There’s also going to be a bunch of you closeted, freaky bitches who are going to turn your noses up and twist up your lips, but secretly race to get home ’cause you’re as nasty as I am. Hell, some of you are probably down on your knees as I speak, or maybe finishing up pulling a dick from out of your throat, or removing strands of pubic hair from in between your teeth. And that’s fine by me as well. Do you, boo. But, let me say this: Don’t any of you self-righteous hoes judge me.

So here goes. See. I have a man—dark chocolate, dreamy-eyed, sculpted and every woman’s dream—who’s been incarcerated for four years, and he’s releasing from prison in less than nine months. And, yes, I’m excited and nervous and almost scared to death—you’ll realize why in a minute. Annnywaaaay, not only is he a sexy-ass motherfucker, he knows how to grind, and stack paper. And he is a splendid lover. My God! His dick and tongue game can make a woman forget her name. And all the chicks who know him either want him, or want him back. And they’ll do anything they can to try to disrupt my flow. Hating-ass hoes!

Nevertheless, he’s coming home to me. The collect calls, the long drives, the endless nights of sexless sleep have taken a toll on me, and will all be over very soon.