MaliBoooooooooooo Ken

Yup your read that right.

I should have known that I had a Malibu’s Most Wanted on my hands when he started to recite UGK lyrics on our first text chat. But I just chucked it up to a person with a diverse playlist that thinks a great way to engage a black girl is to recite rap lyrics :/

I met Ken on Tinder, from what I heard is now hook up at. But less be real, I was looking for just a hook up because……………………………..lack of sex.

Ken was cute, enjoyed photography and had an amazing house in Malibu that overlooked the ocean. Ken would take me to some really nice restaurants in Los Angeles and spend tons of money on meals. Ken also would devour me in the bedroom. Can I just tell you after not being desired in the bedroom for a long time, MANNNNNNNNNNNNN did it feel great. I mean the man liked to eat, if you know what I am saying *wink.

So all of this, what would could be the problem?

Ken was the damn problem. Ken was a privileged white men who was born with a silver spoon that like black culture and therefore felt he had the right to speak about …………………………………………………………… culture. I would give the guys some credit if he did any work within the black community, but homie was too scared to even park is car near a Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles. I spent most of our dates drunk by the time dinner came because I couldn’t stand to hear someone speak about issues they have never lived or met someone who lived but read somewhere. It was draining. I couldn’t go more into detail on what our conversations were like, but it would have to be a whole new blog titled; How Not To Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Moscow Mule in Malibu; Boyz in Malibu That Listen to Music from the Hood; What your Fox News Facts has to do with it. <- if you do not get any of these references, you need to get a black friend.

This courtship only lasted 3 months. On our last encounter, I may have stopped him in the middle of talking and said, “I can’t continue”, Grabbed my wine and walked outside to call a uber. ( FYI I was at a restaurant and wine was not on the to go list)

I actually feel bad I even compared him to Malibu Most Wanted. At least he was culturally sensitive.


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Anxiety, it’s me and you bitch!

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Hi my name is Krystal and I suffer from anxiety and panic disorder.  Doesn’t that roll off the tongue nicely.  Many people wouldn’t know this but I have suffered from this exciting disorder for over 15 years. Yes, some days I may be smiling and laughing but I am actually dying inside trying my hardest to hold it To Fucking-Gether <- totally not a word 

What does my everyday look like, well:
7:30 am – anxious                                                                                                                                   8:00 am – anxious                                                                                                                           10:00 am – anxious                                                                                                                                 12:00 pm – anxious                                                                                                                                 1:00 pm – napping                                                                                                                            3:00 pm – anxious                                                                                                                               5:30 pm – anxious                                                                                                                                 7:00 pm – proud that I made it through the day without a panic attack                                            11:00 pm – bed time, anxious for the next day

Why have you not known this about me before, because I was heavily medicated for about 10 years. My anxiety and panic disorder got so bad that it crippled my every day life, ruined relationships and ruined jobs. It was just plan ruining my life. So I gave into that magic pill that blocks everything. I say block, because you are not actually dealing with anxiety itself or panic itself, you are just trying to shut it the fuck up so you can live your life.

Today I am proud to say, I AM NOT anxiety free or panic free. Ha!

Since being only semi medicated I thank anxiety because I feel like I am alive. While I was on medication I didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t cry and at times I couldn’t even cum.  My feelings were completely muted. That is no way to live.

I am writing about this because so many people I know suffer the same as I do. I wish when these feelings first started to happen, I knew someone who was dealing with or has dealt with what I was going through. Instead I felt alone and defective.

I am also writing about it because I have spent half my life running away from it and being scared of it. Now I am facing this bitch head on. I am embracing it and saying, it is OK for me to feel this way.  ( also therapy helped too)
End of story is, don’t become anxiety’s bitch.  Grab a handful of baby powder and be prepared to slap that bitch back.


Disclaimers: – I am in no way your therapist or a Dr. so go find one.                                                                   I also do not condone bitch slapping unless her name is anxiety.                                              But if anxiety has a social and birth certificate, do not slap her! 


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Fa la la la la, I got some dick! 


Yes you read that right! I have created a new holiday, well new for me. It is called Dicksmas. Just like Christmas you wait all year being such a good little boy or girl for that big ass dude to come and deliver you presents making you the happiest person in the world. This my friends was me and my present was getting some! Man do I feel more relaxed and calm.

Some things that guys do not know about women is that some of us get into our sexual prime in our 30’s and me being thirty-something, well………  I am at the peak of the mountain yelling really obscene things while doing pelvic thrust. Just call me that perv on the mountain top.

So go out and celebrate this glorious holiday called Dickmas, because I sure will. I hope I can celebrate more than once a year like our Jewish friends.

Change every Christmas Song to Dicksmas and enjoy 🙂

Future of this blog

So I was thinking about the future of the blog……………………. Yes, I still plan to write about my love life (or lack of)  but I may start adding more personal entries about myself. Heath, beauty life, wealth, fashion (I know nothing about) but you get the gist. I always have a lot to say about things and just don’t say it. I want to use this blog to just put it all out there.

I plan to eventually start selling vintage clothes that I have been hoarding for years to sell.  I have created an Etsy: imprettyright and an Instagram: Imprettyrightdotcom


As you can see I haven’t really started the process of doing all that I want to do, but soon.



I’m Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack

Hi All! It has been a while since I have blogged. Let’s see, my last blog was in 2015 and it looks like I was still lost in trying to find love. Well guess what happened, I did (so I thought) and then I lost it. Yes, since 2015 I was booed up with who I thought was my future, my savior, the love of my life. I was caught up in a world wind of words which I now see were never followed up by actions.  Long story short, I was holding onto words and promises with no follow through.

Do I regret the two years, no not at all. But I do regret trying to make something work that wasn’t there. I could see after 1 year we were becoming friends more than lovers. I would do my best to change that but it was only a once sided effort.

The one thing that is stuck in my head is a phrase that was constantly told to me during our relationship, “I want to make stories together” I think they wanted to make stories but not with me. Long story short, don’t wait for someone to help you write those stories, go out and make them yourself. If you wait, you may be waiting for a while , on a couch, looking at others live their lives (like on house hunters international).

Till next blog entry.


My charm bracelet turned my wrist green

So Mr. Seems wonderful did not work out. How do I know, he never contacted me again. The only sign mother nature was sending was there will be an after shock from this earthquake, hold you glass of wine.

I seem to get that a lot. I go on these dates or meet these men that seem really interested and then don’t bother to follow through.

I really don’t understand. If it all a man wants is sex, then they need to say that. Some women would prefer to just be told straight out that I just want to sleep with you. Don’t wine us and dine us and ask us about ourselves when you really don’t give a shit.

Just be straight forward, “I am sexual attracted to you, do you have any std’s?.” Boom that simple.

To be honest, I made no effort to contact him after the date because I felt that if he was really interested he could contact me. Is this a stupid mindset, maybe. Did it work for me. No.


Our Exit Interview


I feel that people are put into your life for a reason. The heavens put us at the same place at the same time when things are questionable in our lives. I was there to help you live and you were there to help me love. I will never question the heavens but I will just thank them. Without their guidance, I think we would both be in different situations.
I heard a song today that reminded me of you, so here is our exit interview………..


I Hope You Dance
Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’,
Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone.)
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
Dance….I hope you dance.

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Bonjou Pierre


It was bound to happen. When you meet someone who looks NOTHING like their internet persona.


First of all, let me just say, looks are not everything to me. However, if you post a picture of yourself looking like Richard Gere from Pretty Women then show up looking like Mr. Bean then we have a major problem! Pierre is name (because he was french).

His online personality was very attractive. Older gentleman with a little salt and pepper in his hair, very active and HELLO french. He had all the right internet moves. I would copy and paste his smooth pick up lines but I had to block is ass from OK Cupid. After several failed attempts to meet, I finally gave in and we made a date for an early dinner.

Now, Pierre asked me to pick a restaurant in an area he was familiar with. The area he seemed to be familiar with is West Hollywood, Now if you are reading this and are not from California, West Hollywood, or as the cool kids call it Weho, is the gay area of town. I mean this area has the gay flag flying everywhere. There is no way you can not miss that this area is very gay friendly. I choose a restaurant in West Hollywood called Bossa Nova. It is directly across from a very fab and popular gay club called The Abby.

I arrived on time which is rare for me and grabbed a seat and a something alcoholic to drink. I needed something to calm my nerves. Meeting people to see if you are a match to mate or date is a very stressful thing for me, so I need all the alcohol I can get. As I was sitting on the patio, I see this very handsome man park his car. I got very excited because he was older and kinda looked like Pierre from the pictures. I then proceed to see another very handsome man greet him with a kiss so I know that wasn’t Pierre.

15 min later Pierre finally shows up…………………

This man DID NOT look anything like his pictures. His pictures were obviously taken 15 years ago. As I greeted him, I bit my cheek and told myself, “I am going to need a lot more drinks for this one.” When he sat across from me, be began to complain about the parking and other things. Honestly, I stopped listening because all I could stare at was his teeth. “Are they rotting?'” is what I was thinking as he was talking. After her stopped complaining about parking we ordered and started to play the get to know you game.

The whole time he was talking this smell kept coming from somewhere. I SWEAR it was from his mouth. His teeth were rotting and the smell was ruining my appetite. I think at this point I was on drink number 3. I just HAD to get out of there fast. He began to continue complaining. This time it was about their being a club across the street. He seemed to loathe the concept of gay people, “Oh no, I would never be caught dead in there!” He would say. DUDE you picked the area you wanted to eat in. You apparently used to live in this area, did you not notice it was gay friendly. I couldn’t take anymore of the gay bashing. Each person is entitled to their opinion, but my brother/best friend is gay and I ain’t haven that.

When the tab came out, I usually try to offer to pay at least half of the bill. This time I sat back and ordered a shot to be added to the check and didn’t even reach for my wallet. Mr. Homophobic, you will be paying for this whole dinner and all of my drinks.

He offered to walk me to my car and I insisted no, yet he still did. When we got to my car, this fool had the nerve to try to lean in for a kiss. That rotten teeth smell hit me hard. I leaned back and told him no, I am not that kind of girl. (Well not for Mr. Gingivitis). When I got home I immediately blocked him from OK Cupid. I then sent him a text saying his views on gays bother me and I can no longer speak to him. I then blocked him from my cell phone.

Au revoir Pierre.

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Sorry not sorry

kk cry


My sincere apologies for not updating this wonderful blog on my dating life. It seems that it was just too hard to juggle friends, work, roller derby and dating in one. I didn’t know how overwhelming dating can be.

As my career as a roller derby gal blossoms, I will try my hardest to put myself out there, go on more dates and also to update this blog.

I still owe you guys 3 more dates on top of the one I had tonight. 🙂

Stay tuned!


3rds A Charmbraclet?

Currently Listening to: Jodeci – Come and talk to me.


So far 2 dates in and they have been ok. No sparks have flown, but I will say, I have gotten a decent mimosa and a nice pizza.

So is the 3rd date a charm?

Our online banter was getting good. Little jabs at one another, with cute compliments. It was about time I meet this person one on one. So I asked him out on a date. Yes, that is right, I asked if he would like to meet.

He was surprised that I was asking since I guess it is not common for women to make the first move, but I am not trying to build a 1990’s AOL chat relationship. (You got mail reference)

We met at a very cute little restaurant on Melrose. You know, one of those that seats 15, cost $100 and there is only valet parking like all of LA.

As I walked in, I honestly didn’t know who or what I was looking for. I mean, it was a little dim and some of these online guys don’t look quite like their pictures. The hostess asked who was I meeting, I replied, “I have no idea.” I begin to completely express how this was some sort of online date which is kind of a blind date which could be the Craigslist killer.  To sum it up, the hostess thought I was crazy.

I found a table with a gentleman sitting by himself so I proceeded to him. He stood up, “Hi I am _______, nice to meet you.” My mind replied, “Hi I am Krystal, can we make babies.”  This man was HANDSOME! He was tall and good-looking. Had that older but not too old Sears catalog look.

He was a handsome jewelry maker, a decent one at that, who loved animals, like wine and like to curse, my kinda guy.

We discussed usual date things, such as why we were single, why we were looking and why are we are”ready” to settle down.

He was just saying everything I wanted to hear and he didn’t call me out when I ordered glass #3 of wine. As we continued to admire one another over the dim shitty candle on the table, I began to feel a little unstable, like some sort of vertigo.  Was I already drunk, Shit SHIT SHIT Krystal get it together!.

Well good news, I was not drunk already!!!! Odd news, there was an earthquake, well 2 earthquakes.

For those of you who do not live in a city with active fault lines, let me tell you, earthquakes are shitty. They are shittier when you are buzzed.

After all of the fuss over the earthquakes, we closed the tab and I drove him to his car (he was smart enough not to valet). As we set in my car, you can tell, there was some sort of chemistry there. I haven’t felt this kind of chemistry since_____________. We leaned in slowly and begin kissing. You know that other chemistry ladies? OH YOU KNOW! Well that was there too, I mean HOT DAMN this was getting good. After we cooled down a sec from acting like some teenagers we said good night and parted ways.

Now that was a good date.
Stay tuned.