Girl, She Means Nothing To MeCommentary • ISSUE 38•10 • Mar 20, 2002 By Smoove B, Love Man Aw, girl. You know I would never hurt you for all the gold and diamonds on Earth. You know I am your Smoove Man. And that is why I am begging you to look into your heart and forgive me for the wrong which I have done. Baby, she means nothing to me. I am so sorry I sexed her wild that night when I should have been sexing you. I am so serious about being sorry that I am prepared to do anything to win back your love. Do you wish for a fine Godiva chocolate, my nubian princess? If so, I will journey the world, visiting such countries as Malaysia, New Zealand, and France in a search for the very finest Godiva store on the planet. Smoove will personally screen each store for cleanliness, quality of product, and how dedicated each employee is to pleasing the most beautiful woman who ever lived. Then, I will tally all three columns of numbers into a master score for each location. This will determine which is the very finest Godiva store on Earth. And then, I will purchase the very finest piece of chocolate available at that store, maxing out my Discover card if necessary. The chocolate will contain a sumptuous almond. There will also be caramel. Once I possess the piece of chocolate, I will carry it back to your apartment on foot, not stopping even when my leg muscles scream in indescribable pain. On and on will I walk until I have brought this magnificent morsel of candy to your bedside. I will then put it inside the mouth of my queen using a pair of specially constructed solid-gold chocolate-feeding tongs. That other woman? You must believe me when I say that I would not walk down to the Mobil station to get her a Clark bar. This is only one respect in which I love you far more than that other girl. There are many others, as well. Baby, even when you are mad at me, you make me love you so much. Right now, I want to take you in my arms and shower sweet kisses on your forehead and neck. I want to feel you unbuttoning my purple satin shirt and then sliding that shirt off one shoulder at a time, revealing me in my tank-top undershirt and golden cross pendant. At that point, I want to pick you up in my arms and carry you through my living room, past the kitchenette, and into the bedroom, where I will show you the true meaning of my love. So please, girl, give me a chance to make it up to you. Let me show you that you are my universal everything and that, in comparison, that other woman is not even a whisper from a grain of sand on the world's smallest beach. Let me make reservations at the finest restaurant in all of downtown, where we will dine on the finest steak and lobster, as well as many fine vegetables, including corn and green beans. And dessert, if you have room afterwards. The waiters will bow and scrape and tend to your every wish, for I will have pre-arranged this level of service with the manager. A delicious mint will also arrive with the check. After this meal, I will rent a fine hansom cab to convey us all around the downtown area, where we will see many fine hotels, in addition to the outskirts of the park. The driver will let us out only three blocks from my apartment building, and I will tip him generously. We will then walk past the envious eyes of the city to my crib, where we will get down all night long as the music of Freddie Jackson fills my bedroom. It is here that I will hit that ass doggystyle. I will leave you breathless. If you only let me, I will fill you up with Smoove. We will freak nasty until the break of dawn. Girl, I do not even remember her name. Pamela or something. It is irrelevant for our purposes.