She is a beautiful Hispanic girl most likely from Puerto Rico, She is sexy and beautiful, she is better than everyone else and they know it, she is funny, cool, and a great person to be around, she is the girl that everyone should befriend because your life will change in a much better way with her, she's very intelligent, she's not someone who you want to become an enemy of because she will make you feel completely worthless with her words, she can be very sweet if you're nice to her, or she can be very spiteful and that's something you don't ever want. She's not a girl to mess with EVER
The sexiest woman you will ever meet in your entire life. Until you saw her, Idelisse was the girl that only existed in your dreams. She is smarter than you - which makes her even sexier. Usually from a small tropical island, she lives on salsa and sweet nectar.
The baddest female. She's probably from the Caribbean, has a bangin' bod and knows how to work it. She may seem quiet and beautiful, but oh boy is she deadly. Be weary for she is cold-hearted, and not many can tame her. Not to mention, her love affair with anything with a motor, makes all the men purr. Very intellectual, but keeps it on the dl. "It's easier to fight a battle when your enemy expects hand grenades, and you give them nuclear bombs."
Guy 1: Dude! I asked Ibelise out yesterday but she gave me some shit about studying Guy 2: Yo man, she ain't lyin' I saw her down at the campus laundrymat folding clothes and reading some quantum physics shit! She don't play!
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. PenguinBooks,1992. p. 38)