The Women Of Instagram


And welcome to 2018.

This post is going to just be me writing down some thoughts based on observation.

I’ve been noticing a lot lately that either I am doing really well in weeding out people that are unsavory from social media OR the unsavory and the perverted have all gone over to Instagram.

Over the past several months, almost the last year, I found myself jumping into the muck and the mire of “following” people that I really had no business following.

I did it though. Sad but true.

Now in my case, my profile/account/whatever is somewhat restricted. I am unable to post any photos. But I am capable of clicking that little heart icon and I can leave a comment to someone else’s photo that has been posted.

Lately though, I’ve been wanting to toss my cookies at the amount of comments that are being posted to women’s photos on Instagram.

Personally I found myself following international women. Women who do not speak English as their first language. Plenty of them have modeling as either their career or serious hobby.

Russia, Eastern Europe, Brazil, and every place in between.

Over and over and over again, its the same old bullshit in the comment section. And these comments are in English. Some of them broken English.

If I had $100 for every comment that I have read along the lines of “marry me!”, I would be absolutely rich!! And I have no choice but to laugh at the broken English proposals of “merry me.”

I may find a photo here and there appealing or attractive. But as I have been saying for years now, that by the time I can come up with a suitable compliment for the photo, the comment section is full of trashy remarks that are repeated up to 20 times PER PHOTO!!

I feel that these are the ones that make MY social/dating life difficult. These women hear/read these trashy comments so many freaking times that by the time I say something NICE, it gets lost.

Being that at the time I am writing this blog post and it being New Years Day 2018, plenty of these women over the past couple of weeks have been posting photos that have been holiday themed. And over the past 2-3 days, more photos have been more personal to everyone because the women have posted photos of themselves with their families.

And by “families,” I mean their husbands/boyfriends/significant others AND/OR their children.

And these perverts who have been following these women for who knows how long, either don’t know how to use the Internet to get a loose translation of the photo caption or are just not paying a lot of attention.

I had stopped counting after finding sixteen different comments to five different women’s photos who had posted an image of them with their other half and finding the comments to be people who were in shock, asking if they were married, or if that was their husband/boyfriend/whatever.

I’ve come up with a theory.

The signs were there all along. I think.

These perverts are just there to look at “hot women” and then vomit their sexual arousal all over the place.

In particular, those who are models are constantly posting new content several times a day. Anything from a photo session or a mirror selfie.

My theory is that if someone has posted photos and it does not appear to be a selfie, then obviously someone else is behind the camera. If the person is not really close up in the photo then someone else is helping out with the photography.

If its not a professional photographer… who else could it be???

It would make sense to deduce that there’s a possibility of a significant other involved.

Therefore there should be absolutely NO SHOCK involved when women post photos of family, particularly during the holiday season.


The Crap Cycle Of Dating To Non-Dating


And I’m back!

I wanted to talk about this cycle I found myself in and get some things off of my chest.

I decided a long time ago that I wanted to try dating again. Even if my mind wasn’t in this whole “idea” of it “being a date” outside of the standard definition.

At the time, I found myself surrounded by female colleagues that I know from one person or another. I would always see them whenever I made the decision by myself to go out to enjoy live music. But it was the ONLY TIME that I would see these women.

The thought had come to me that even if these people said that I was their friend, then why aren’t they acting like it? Male and female.

I have always gotten along better with women than men. It is just the way I’ve always been.

I asked myself over and over again: If we’re friends, then why aren’t we acting like it?

I set out so long ago to try to meet with one person for dinner. Even though she said “yes” over a year ago. Then she said “yes” again, but nothing ever came of it. Only that she would not be able to go out until a certain date had come. That certain date has come and been gone for over a month now!

When I apologized for the second time of bombing, her response was “I just figured you forgot or that something came up.” And at first it seemed as if she was being very forgiving of the repeated mistake. But after a while I started to think “I don’t think it matters too much to her because if it did, wouldn’t she have prodded me for some kind of answer as to why nothing has happened?”

I moved on to the next person in those circles. I said “We hardly see each other because we do not go to the same shows. How about getting tacos sometime?”. To which I received another “yes” but again…. nothing further.

To be fair, “contestant #2” (as it were) as far as I can tell is in a relationship. And I am not out to destroy that.

And I have most recently been told by yet TWO MORE women “We should hang out at a show together!” Over and over again.

My problems are not being turned down. My problem is the follow through. The planning, the scheduling. None of that happens!

My word of warning to anyone who is reading this, is to ALWAYS have a plan to follow through and make sure that it gets planned and actually put down on the calendar.

And even though I may be choosing the WRONG women to “date” I should still be following through with the original plans of hanging out.

I am hoping that in the very near future, I will change all of this. I just hope that if you are reading this and you are stuck as I am, that you take these words to heart and don’t just ask someone out… actually TAKE them out. No matter what it is that you are doing. JUST DO IT.



Misanthropic Mama



I took a little adventure to the south part of town to go to a party. Hoping and praying that a number of particular people would be in attendance. I got squat.

Well, I probably should not say “squat” as there were some there but I could count them all on one hand and still have fingers left uncounted.

The party was awesome. Great music!! I won’t complain about that. my expectations (yet again) were too high and when certain people didn’t show up… that’s when it went to pot.

Five bands that night would rock the night away. And then during the second band, there she was walking in the front door!

Misanthropic Mama (MM).

I met just a few short years ago at a music festival. Each day of the festival she was there and as long as I didn’t go any place else, I would be able to talk to her, get to know her, and hang out with her.

But the problem was the discrepancy of her being any where other than that festival. Two years in a row going to the festival, she was there with the exception of this year, which was disappointing. Yet I survived.

Then she showed up at the party and I was beside myself.

The moment she saw me, she smiled very big and stood there frozen as if she could not believe that she had run into me there.

She and I embraced for what seemed like hours. The one thing that I can always remember about her is that her hugs linger and linger and linger.

But from my elevation, I just cannot hold on to people for forever like that. And most women (people in general) are bending over just to hug me, and eventually their back will tell them to stop.

MM made the attempt to ask questions of me to catch up on how I have been doing and all of that.

I was in disbelief as her hair had grown so much in length since I had seen her last. It was thick and grown past her ass.

She offered to buy me a drink and then we stood there in the back of the club listening to the band that was on stage at that time. I tried not to stare and there were a few times that we caught one another looking at each other but there was no awkwardness to it or anything. A good thing!!

MM and I would move up closer to the stage to have a better view. And she still stood at my side. It is only worth mentioning because that rarely happens.

But it would not last long. Another colleague showed up. Then I was book-ended by women. MM would leave and go somewhere else in the club, if not to the bar. That whole scene is a story for another time.

Towards the end of the night, she told me that she was going outside to smoke some pot. So I told her that I did not, but I would go with her to wherever she needed or wanted to go.

We walked quite a distance away from the club and away from other people until we reached the end of a building and hid behind it in the dark. As she walked in front of me, I just could not believe how long her hair and grown since I had seen her last.

I was close by to her side as she did her business. I found myself running my fingers through her hair, playing with it and complimenting her about it.

Eventually I put my arms around her and she smiled. I told her as I looked into her eyes that she was incredibly beautiful and she bashfully giggled and said thank you.

I pulled her closer and she put her arms around my neck. As her body bent, I leaned in and at the last moment turned my face towards hers. There I was kissing her softly but passionately.

I was successful in this display of deep affection for the first time in my adult life. Being nervous that she would retreat and pull away, but that never happened. There was no apologies, no excuses, no awkwardness of any kind.

As my hands drew up and down her back to her ass and then all the way up to the back of her head and repeating the process, I could taste what was left of the marijuana lingering on her lips.

There we were up against the wall kissing in the darkness until finally she softly pushed her hands against my shoulders to pull away.

I placed my hand on her chest in between her breasts and stomach and told her that I adored her. My hand drew down her torso to her waist and with one finger I searched for her zipper

And right at that moment when things were moving smoothly, some random person came around the corner talking loudly on their cell phone. She backed off real fast and pulled up on her zipper to make sure it was up.

Before anyone could say “Anbesol” she threw her things back into her purse and said “Let’s go back inside.”

It was another hour before she said she was going to go home and she also said that we would meet again soon. But I have doubts.

With her not ever coming out of her home except to go to work, I have no idea when that will be.

Calling Out Long Term Bullshit


For those of you who know me personally, you know that I do my very best to be one of the most respectful men on the planet when it comes to dealing with females. But sometimes there will come a time where I will just lose my cool and all the uncouth things spill forward.

With that, I shall say: Bitches ain’t shit.

And now the explanation.

I am sure that most of you have seen that quotation or meme that rhetorically questions the fact that the people that mean the most in your life are the ones that live so far away. There are some people in my own personal and social life who are the same way.

In my short tenure of socializing via the Internet, I’ve gathered a small collective of people that I would love to meet in person. I’ve had my circles of women that I would totally go for in a more physical manner. But I also know my boundaries, as well as theirs.

So then there’s been one that go back and forth constantly over the last near decade of what she’s willing to do and what she is not willing to do. In other words her boundaries keep shifting.

Now again, I can be respectful of a person’s boundaries. But when they have constantly shifted over the years, its rather difficult to keep up.

Which leads to today’s frustration.

After a very long time of developing what I had been considering a respectful, loving, personal relationship with a woman who many boundaries, and never crossing those lines over time, in addition having that similar ole conversation that we all have with that certain someone at one time or another about the desire and the ability of meeting them one day in person.

Years and years and years of daydreaming and wishing and wanting that to happen. And being so close at times for it to be a reality, I finally came up with a SOLID solution to the situation. One that could definitely bring me face to face with her finally, after nearly a decade of knowing her.

But the shit got way too real for her. I mean… REALLY REALLY REAL!!!

After explanation the idea, the excitement escaped her. And at the end of the night the usual banter back and forth of “I love you.” and “I love you too.” was gone. It became one sided. Suddenly, it was “Good night, my friend.” and nothing more or less.

My problem is that when I realized what she had done, I allowed it to get to me. So now here I am.

It is not cool to lead people on when you are being drawn by your own imagination. People like that need a reality check, in my opinion. And not at the expense of hurting other people’s feelings.

It has been suggested that I cut this woman loose for good, and let her go. What do you think??


The Buyer


Hello dear fiends. Its been too long.

I’ve been doing…. something. But I cannot say what at this time.

But I noticed something really fucked up the other day while jumping back on to all forms of social media for the first time in a long time.

Mutual female friends were being seduced. Many of them, all at once.

One particular male was buying roses for a lot of women that he and I both mutually knew. And not just a few or one dozen. When I say “a lot” I mean A LOT!!!!!!!!!

I will be the first to admit that some of the women who were lavished were ones that I would not mind going after, and I thought to myself that this guy for whatever reason was really on top of things. Even though deep down inside I did not like his idea, he did it and it worked. So I started to let go and accept my defeat and wanted to give him props for what he had done.

Until one of them contacted me privately. I asked how she was enjoying her roses. And she began to break down. She felt used; violated. Not to mention humiliated.

When I asked her why. She said that this guy who had bought the roses wanted something in return. And we all know what that was!!

She gave it to him. And now she’s full of regret.

There wasn’t much that I could say or do. What was done, was done. But she knew better for next time.

I went nuts. I was about to go after him when I saw that his particular numbers in how many people are following him on social media were surprisingly low. This guy appears to be one lonely motherfucker. But a motherfucker with money.

And he has been buying his way into other women’s beds and bodies.

I’m not okay with it. Just because he his lonely, doesn’t give him any fucking right to do what he has done. Lucky for him, SHE proved that she learned her lesson, and asked that I not do anything to him about it.

If I hear that this guy poisons the well again with his antics, I’m definitely coming for him!!!!


Let’s hope the next time I sign on to here, it will be with better salutations.

Rock and Roll Tramp: Game Over

A little more than a year ago, I wrote about a girl that I called “Rock and Roll Tramp” for non-specific purposes. Needless to say that in those long, long months I’ve had the opportunity to know her a little better.

Sad to say that as far as seeing her in person, it is a very safe bet that I have not seen her sober at all. Not once. Every time I have been near or around her, two things are constant: We are at a venue watching live music. And she’s drunk as hell.

After a few times seeing her out in about, I was noticing patterns. She was only there when certain bands or certain people were on stage. Then the truth came full circle in the most ugly of ways.

“Tramp” was always seen with a bass guitar player. Showed up with him, left with him. The very telling moment was when I saw the bass player shove her into the men’s room at a bar once and neither of them emerged for at least a good fifteen to twenty minutes later.

It was at that point I felt that it was over. At least for me.

The odd part of the transition was the next time that I saw her after she had been fucked in the men’s room, I referred to the guy as her “boyfriend” and she flipped her lid. In the most defiant of manner she vehemently denied that’s who he was.

I was not convinced of it.

Over the next year I grew to accept the defeat. I grew to realize that I had in fact asked her out and she accepted the offer but I never followed through on that. And I also grew to accept that even if I had followed through (at that time) she was still with him and therefore I would have considered the event one thing, and she would have considered it something else which is a recipe for disaster. Nothing would ever become of it.

And then a month ago, the incredibly impossible happened. The bass player boyfriend reached out to me one-to-one to discuss his feelings and situations with “Tramp” and I was (but not really) shocked to learn that they were having problems in the relationship. It was four consecutive late night talks about the relationship, including intimate details that I never knew, nor would I have guessed.

She had decided to take a break from their relationship, and he was missing her. I think that they spend nearly 24 hours around each other. And if that is close to being correct, then I’d agree…. it is a messy situation because that is way too much.

Four days later, they were back together at another show. And apparently happily ever after according to the bass player. I’ve never approached her side of things as he probably would be embarrassed to admit that he talked about such things that were private to me.

So a year has gone by, and all hopes of wrestling down the “Tramp” are dead and gone. Nothing will ever come from the two of us. And after all this time I realize…. that’s a good thing!! It is amazing what a person can learn if they just take some time to evaluate.

I am still amicable with both of them. But with her- the way that I relate with her as changed drastically and more safely.

But for the Rock and Roll Tramp? Game over.

Brace Face


It has been quite some time. I have been totally away from the blogsphere.

Lately though, I had been so sick that I was in the hospital and away from home for nearly a couple of weeks.

I’m feeling better. SOOOOOOOO much better. That this tale must be told for the sake of the purpose to this particular corner of the world wide web.

Even being ill, I was able to pull enough strength last night to go out and enjoy some live music with a band that I follow closely nowadays.

The band was fine. Getting better in my opinion. But the highlight of the night was to find a gorgeous young woman with a LBD. So hot!!

She kept her mouth closed most of the time. Like she was feeling insecure about something.

I went on a mission to get this woman to smile. It didn’t take much. I’m pretty good at least getting a woman to smile at least, even if I cannot seal the deal.

She grinned. Then I kept going. Then she smiled brightly. She opened her mouth. And what did I behold but her teeth with braces on them. It had seemed that she was insecure about her looks with the braces on her teeth.

Trust me, there was nothing wrong with the looks of this woman. And the braces didn’t take anything away from her. In fact it ADDED to the sex appeal and attraction that I zeroed in on.

I told her several times in her ear that I thought she was gorgeous. I told her that she had nothing to fear with her appearance. And even if someone did not like it- they could go to Hell.

I could feel the confidence within her grow as she relaxed. I put my arm around her and she quickly snuggled in. With my arm around her waist, I gently placed my hand upon her ass… expecting her to move from it and keep out of my arm’s reach. But she never budged.

I sat there with my arm around this beautiful woman and acted as if her ass belonged solely to me.

There was not a lot of talk from that point on from her or I.

At the very end of the night, just prior to being kicked out of the venue… I asked if I could follow her to her car, to make sure she was safe. She agreed but I could sense some uncertainty.

We walked underneath the interstate and into the parking lot where her vehicle was.

Then she offered to give me a ride home… no matter the distance. I accepted.

But she stored the wheelchair in the front passenger’s seat and opened the door to the back seat just behind the driver.

I was confused but I climbed into the car. Then she followed right behind me.

After some cuddling and some light conversation which was heavy with flirtation, her hand traveled quickly along the inside of my left thigh and into my crotch.

I swiftly leaned into her and started kissing wherever I could land my mouth before it reached her own. Her hand squeezing so hard to my junk.

Several minutes passed by and she whimpered that “she wanted it.” Then her hand really put a death grip on my dick. And I leaned back and she made her way to her desired destination with her mouth all over me… her body leaning into my lap.


All I could think of was the scene from The Sopranos when the dancer/stripper/hooker had gotten braces on her teeth and she was wanting in on a sex party and the guy that was about to get a blowjob said “Easy with those braces.”

But I never said a word. This girl knew what she was doing. It didn’t take long before she climbed on to my lap and slid my throbbing shaft up inside of her and she began to ride me like no tomorrow.

In all my life, believing that getting to this point would take weeks, months… took under an hour in HER own vehicle.

My mind was gone. The only real thing that I could think of was all the traffic up above that was passing by while I was getting laid.

After it was all over, she suggested that I slide into the passenger seat as she went to put the wheelchair in her trunk.

Then she kept her word and gave me a ride home. But I kept a finger up inside of her slit the entire time. If we had to stop at a red light.. I would vigorously shake my finger and make her quiver until the light turned green. I felt it was my duty to keep her hot and turned on and wanting more as we drove the miles to my place.

It worked. Sitting there in the parking lot, she threw back her seat belt and leaned into my lap, going down on me some more.

All in all, everything went as men would dream. And yes, I wished it would happen again. but I have no idea how to find her. I have no name, no address, nothing. I’m going to have to hope and cross my fingers that she attends another show soon.

There was nothing wrong with “Brace Face”… I’d search for her again if I could.

Be Careful What You Wish For


It has been almost ten years since I tried my hand at an international relationship. And by international I mean that the woman was living here locally, but she was not from the United States of America. She was originally on a green card from El Salvador. So she was in fact here legally.

It (the relationship) lasted much longer than I had expected. Six months. All of this considering that my Spanish was horrible and she spoke NO English. I took one hell of a crash course in Spanish speaking.

But as I said it only lasted six months. And she was not a citizen of this country and her green card was soon to expire. She had found herself at a crossroads. Especially with the thought of whether or not to stay in the country and continue to do what she was doing, which was something I disagreed with.

But I sure wasn’t complaining about the relationship aspect of things for sure!

I have no idea where she went. One evening we had an awkward telephone conversation and she asked me if I loved her. I hesitated and she picked up on it. I was confused because I was getting information from other people about her TRUE nature and I didn’t know how to confront her about all of it.

She used to work as a personal attendant for a neighbor of mine. When her work day was through, that’s when she was spend time with me and then go home. But after that weird conversation, I never saw her again. My neighbor never saw her again, never heard from her again. Nobody knows if she stayed in the country or moved on.

But it was a very powerful lesson in dealing with a foreign language and learning how to communicate with someone who doesn’t know how to speak in English while they are in this country.

Which brings me finally to the point of this blog post.

Years after being in a relationship with the El Salvadorian, I attempted to keep up with the Spanish speaking skills because let’s face it ….. you need it around here.

Enter a brand new attendant for a different neighbor around sometime last month.

Trust me when I tell you that I have NO CLUE what is going on and I probably never will when it comes to women and what they do when they do it. I am the worst person to recognize signals too.

I haven’t even been able to figure out what this young woman’s first name is. She’s not shown any signs that she speaks English either, other than “thank you” and that is about it.

Every morning she and the neighbor comes in and gathers around a table and socializes with other Spanish speaking neighbors. But each and every time I look up, the young woman is looking in my direction. Or directly at me.

I have no idea what is going on. I was given a theory that she’s just trying to figure out who I am because I appear to be around the same age as her, and not like the other neighbors who are elderly.

For weeks now it has seemed like I can only get her to say “Hello. How are you?” to me but in Spanish.

I remember about a week and a half ago, I complained about how I did not know her name. And I couldn’t get anything out of her other than saying hello.

I should have been careful for what I was wanting or wishing for.

Today, I got the looks and the stares again. I was sitting on the other side of the room from the table in which she sat with the neighbor. The neighbor however got up and slowly made her way over to get herself more coffee. I sensed something and so I looked up and the young woman was staring right at me and biting on her lower lip softly.

What the hell? That’s a flirtation- right??

The neighbor brought back to the table her cup of coffee but did not sit down, instead she walked out of the room and entered the rest room. It was an action I didn’t detect because before I even knew it, I was being tapped very rapidly and very roughly and the young woman was standing just inches away from me.

I sat back in my wheelchair and I said “What’s up?”… Que pasa?

Before I knew it, she answered me and totally left me in the dust at the rate in which she was speaking. I still do not have any idea what the hell she said to me.

I asked her if everything was okay. All I could tell by her body language and the expression on her face that the answer was obviously no. My mind still spinning from her blindsiding me with her rate of speech. There was no way I was going to get any of that.

I just simply looked at her face and there was no smile. So I did not smile back and I just nodded very slowly. I always find myself doing that if I do not understand what was said to me.

Then she turned to look behind her. The neighbor for which she works for had not come out of the rest room at this point and then she whispered to see my hands.

I lifted them up and she took a hold of my right hand with both of hers and I flinched when she inconspicuously slipped my hand between her thighs. The warmth of her body seemed to be missing as she was standing there still with a heavy jacket on her body even though she had been indoors for at least the past hour and a half.

Then I heard her whisper once more a phrase which translated loosely into English. Basically she said she had no underwear on.

Umm… I could tell.

Then she and I both heard the rest room door begin to open and she fled away from me and went back to her chair at the table where she grabbed her cell phone and started texting someone.

The rest of the time, I didn’t even bother to think about where my hand was but rather it was attempting to focus on what the hell it was that she said to me in Spanish.

I told you I don’t get signals. Even if that was a signal of some kind. I don’t know.

The rest of the time that she was there she roamed around the room some more and each and every time I would look up she was still gazing in my direction. I never said anything about the “thigh action” though to nobody. But she was daring as there was at least a half a dozen other people in there that may or may not have seen it.

I heard her talking later on and I looked up and she was being expressive with her hands. Her right hand having a simple band on it. Now I must figure out if Mexico or at least the other Latin American countries are like Germany and other countries in Europe where they wear their wedding rings on their right hand rather than their left as they do here in the United States of America.

Hell, I don’t even know at this point what I would do with her if anything at all if I was to find out more information about her and that it all would lean towards my favor.

I almost …. ALMOST paid a very heavy price with the woman from El Salvador. I don’t need to be put into the ground by a different Latina.

But I will say this, I can still feel the sensation of warmth on my fingertips.

Night Club Lessons


A few nights ago, I braved the much colder weather to watch a band play live just once more before the end of the year.

The band that I went to go see has their certain circle of people, friends and fans alike. One of them being someone that I got used to seeing every time I went out to see this band. She however was in a mini skirt and thigh high boots which many refer to as “hooker boots.”

She brought some guy with her, calling him “MY guy.” so I started to recognize that as a boundary. But then I get told by one of the band members… that the “MY guy” is not a boyfriend, but rather a boy toy.

I should have been all systems go. But before I could do anything the very band member that told me that this guy was a boy toy, had stepped in and was all over her like white on rice.

She apparently is a smoker, smoking cigarettes like a chimney. So with her going out into the cold to smoke… well, the guy had his hands all over her ass. And I literally sat there thinking to myself “Why couldn’t that be me and my hands all over her ass? I’m not a stranger to her- she knows who I am. Why can’t that be me?”

The answer was not so obvious. In fact the idea just raised more questions than it did answers. What would happen between us from that point on? Would she ignore me because it was not something she wanted or liked? What if we slept together? And then every other question which comes after the possibility of having sex with one another.

But really now … why can’t this be me? Why is it so unattainable that I can do things like that with women.. as long as they are okay with it??

When I left the venue, I waved at her and she realized that I was leaving for the rest of the night. She plunged herself against my chest with an embrace to boot and just laying across my chest until her body couldn’t take the awkward position it was in any more. All of THAT happened in front of the boy toy.

I guess I need to take a class on these situations. I’m never good at taking clues or hints. I wonder if there’s a course to take to be a pimp??

The search begins because I don’t see any reason why I could not have been all over this mini-skirted lady that whole night.

Ugh. Fucking frustrating.

Gone Too Far


So I’ve not spent a lot of time here because the simple fact is that there’s nothing really to write about since nothing is really going on in this part of my dark world.

Until today. And boy did it come with flying colors and almost a parade and a bang.

I saw this redhead on Facebook and decided to “Follow” her. And then I almost immediately felt shame and regret for doing so, based on the fact that once I started to “follow” her I realized that she was a 16 year old model from far away. Ukraine, I believe.


Her notoriety comes from the fact that she supposedly has the looks of a “living, breathing Barbie doll” at the age of sixteen.

My dilemma was the question of morality. Should I stay or should I go? I decided to stay. But I also decided not to make any sudden movements and call any negative attention towards myself. And as a matter of fact, within a day or two she was forgotten unless she posts something.


It was the comment section of Facebook posts that spun my head so hard with a morality question that it landed me to write on here once again.

As most models do… she posted some photographs on her Facebook page and as it always has been and always will be- there were comments left by people who are “following” her just as I am.

And here’s where everything comes into place, knowing what very little we know about the model and her young age and everything.

A man who appears to be at least twice her age left a comment: “You are sexy.”

The whole Internet just about blew up. What is right and what is wrong and most importantly how does a person define sexy?

Is it wrong to say to this teen model that she looks sexy? Is it okay to say that??


The fact of the matter is that sexy goes along side the word beauty or beautiful. Its all within the eye of the beholder. How one person defines as sexy is not going to be the same for another person. Just as the word morality. What is moral for one person might not be moral for another. And so the subject has reached a middle ground where nobody is able to agree upon.

What IS for sure is that the man who left the comment has been harassed by others who felt it wrong.

But it all boils down to this: As I stated, the model is from Russia or the Ukraine or somewhere. Chances are that she does not understand English very well and will not know the dilemma that is spilling all over her Fan Page.