Social Commentary: Love in the club syndrome

There comes a time when being a player is just well...played. Eventually, you start to look like some hot foolery.

I wanted to write this just for men, but I see it applies to my women folk as well. Let's start with the menzes. I have a guy friend who refuses to retire from the club....and the random coochie. I feel for him because it's becoming embarrassing. He's still attractive but I've noticed he's getting that "old face" steeze...like he's being road hard and hung up wet. He also tries to dress younger. Like an old R&B crooner gone rogue.

Think Five Heartbeats...remixed! He thinks monogamy is for suckers, never met a happy hour or a cup of yak he didn't like. If he were on his last breath he would be rollin' that ventilator in line with him trying to get up in the club. Hospital ID bracelet and all! By 10 o'clock, you can find sweatin' and freakin' every PYT as if he's about to go to prison fo life! I've seen a lot of men hangin' out, big bellies in tow, tryin' rock a throwback. I love a good party like the rest of us, but there is a time when we have to move it from the club to a lounge or house party. Ladies, your turn.

There's nothing more depressing then seeing a woman past her prime trying to compete will the "new new". Varicose veins, droopy tittay tats, and that "been there, done everyone" FDS-needing, "wipe er down" look. I think I'm a certified banger, but I know better than to try to go up against some young chippie with perky ta tas, ripe for the pickin'. It's apples and oranges (pun intended). Am I off base? Discuss....