I have a tendency to get over obsessive over some things, namely tomboys. I skip the dentist’s appointment ogling at them. Heck, I might even lose my job really soon.
Not even a 5000 words long ass post can describe my love for these bad ass sisters. They are kissable, pretty, smart, witty, lovable, and kissable (I know I had said that earlier).
A tomboy look is not something you can just pull. It is as confusing as helping a primary school kid solve his math homework. It has to be present during and after delivery. Tomboys will whine and cry and shove when their moms dress them like girls, they know they aren’t like the other girls, they are special.
You will see her walking down the streets, hands in her pocket. She knows she is the shizzle. She knows she is breaking innocent girls’ hearts, even the boys adores the ground she walks on.
Just the simple fact that I am writing this at my work place is reason enough for you to believe that my lady boner goes berserk for these little humanoids. I am in awe of how much confidence they exude. My dad would erase his last name on my ID if I walked out of the house dressed anything not close to girlish 🙂
I know femmes have all these myths and things to say about tomboys, they are players, they will suck your wallet dry blah blaaah blah. I get that, but unlike y’all and my body fat percentage, I choose to ignore the lies. I love me some tomboy smile.
They make me weep. So either I am hormonally imbalanced or there wasn’t enough tomboys when I was growing up. But if tomboys don’t reduce you quivering to a jellyfish of tears, you girl, are made of stone and I completely wash my hands off you!
They are pretty many, in Nairobi especially. It’s like they compete on who will make us fall the hardest while we are trying so damn hard to walk in our heels.
So without further ado, I present to you tomboy porn. You are welcome.
The way you look at me…
Hold me in your arms like that guitar
And that is why I don’t get anything accomplished.
Black Tomboy- Facebook