I’m a Princess

               I can’t believe I got hurt when all I was trying to do was get a tanguera to relax. I’m an idiot, yes, I said something stupid when I first met her. Where’s my blogpost where I gave myself advice to keep my fat yapper shut!? You’re just going to have to take my word for it: long ago I wrote that the best advice for a tanguero is to keep his mouth closed. I ignored my own counsel and got burned!

               The weird thing is I feel hurt. I’m such a friggin’ princess. Dear God, make me a stone! That is the only way I’m going to survive tango in my old age.

               Here’s some more wisdom for ya, homies: never listen to a woman when she tells you what she needs, that’s the fastest way to a place called ‘Frustration Alley’! You’ve got to figure that one out on your own: that’s why you’re a guy, we’re genetically designed to know. I know, sometimes it’s hard to deduce just exactly what it is that she needs but don’t be afraid to take chances. As in tango, stick to the moves you know you can pull off.