GOOGLE IT

GOOGLE IT

"I'll cum fassss, Because I won't drink this time. I pinky swear. So when are we going to do it again?"  I heard my older sister whispering into the phone.  I was shocked, because one: I didn't know she was sexually active, not that she couldn't have an orgasm from other types of stimulation, two: She is only 17, three: She doesn't have a boyfriend, four: I didn't know she drank and five: our dad would kill her and him. 

I've been wondering how an orgasm feels and now that I know she's had at least one, I want to ask her.  My BFF told me she felt like she had died and gone to heaven when she had one in the tub. I'm still trying to figure out how that is possible. 

I am 16 years old and shouldn't be thinking about orgasms, but what in the heck do you expect. Music videos with grown women spread eagle and sliding down polls upside down, rap lyrics, campaigns that sell sex in commercials to sell burgers and my big brother, who is 18, having regular muffled sex while our parents are at work. It always sounds like her head is covered by a pillow, I hope he doesn't suffocate her. 

There is only so much a 16 year old can take, before we fall in line with the rest of this seemingly horny, kinky society. 

I'll tell you what, I get tired of the mixed signals and double standards from people, mainly adults. Example: I have a teacher that wears low cut T'S and has at least a D cup. She puts those D's in Justin's face, every morning, when she leans down, in front of his desk, to talk to him. That is not necessary, Especially, since he's only 16. If she keeps that up, I know where it will lead and that's to her face being plastered on every news channel, like all these other perverted teachers. 

Since I see what she does and how open minded she appears, I thought she would not mind me using sexposition (GOOGLE IT) to liven up a boring report I was presenting in front of the class.  Well, I was dead wrong, that almost got me expelled from school. 

I could not believe, Miss D,  was so offended. This is the same teacher that puts her breast in a 16 year old boys face daily and the one whose camera phone I found which had pictures of her with her face between another woman's butt cheeks. Now that is disgusting. Not because I'm 16, but because it is. Maybe, that's why her breath smells like Uuk, in the morning, Justin must have Anosmia (GOOGLE IT). 

 

Even though I think about orgasms often, I keep my feelings suppressed. I don't even touch myself except to wash, wipe and change my pads.  I won't even use tampons, because, I may enjoy the feeling and want the real thing. My sister said that was silly, I guess she should know. 

 I plan on attending Dartmouth College, in two years. I refuse to allow anything to thwart that plan. I've seen what happens to good smart girls, like me, that become sexually active. Their once sharp minds become foggy. 

So, untill I'm married or at least have graduated from Dartmouth, I will not be having sex of any kind. I must keep my mind clear and remain focused. 

I'm Justine Amy Walsh, I have great BIG plans for my future, but like my orgasm thoughts I'm keeping quiet. Sometimes, you share your dreams with people and they wish you everything but good. 

Write down my name and please spell it correctly, Justine Amy Walsh.  In eight years, GOOGLE IT

YDC, 07/30/12, 0045 Hours

SEASONS

"Is there a reason you came and changed my life, cause it won't change back..." I sang with all my heart and soul and at the top of my lungs in alto, so you know the top was crackled with more emphasis than a high pitched even tone.  I'm sure if Chante Moore could hear my rendition her ears would ring, but she would be happy, sensing that I was singing from a place of knowing.

As I belted out, "I'm trying to forget, but I can't act as if we never met..." I heard my evil ass neighbor hitting her ceiling with that dang on broom stick. JEALOUS HATEFUL WENCH, is what I screamed under my breath. I would never say that aloud, because I was taught to respect my elders, but oooo did she make me mad. Her season had come and gone with no man, no marriage and no child, so I kinda understood her bitterness.

I'm one that believes in seasons. There is a season for living, dying, loving, exploring, welcoming new friends and even for birthing babies.

The Bible even says, "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1

So why wasn't there a season associated with him. Or maybe there was, I just choose not to recognize it because it was much too short. It lasted 6 (grammarbook.com says the number 6 should be spelled out in a sentence, but I'm not following all the rules, this season) as I was saying, it lasted 6 wonderful weeks. The most amazing weeks I'd had in that particular life time. I say that, because, it feels as though I've had several life times.  Each is distinct in the way it smells, sounds, looks, tastes and most definitely feels. Which to me means I'm living a full life.

In my mind and what I'm telling ya'll is no one in the world, but a sociopath comes into your life, sweeps you off your feet, shows you places, just around the corner and down the street you've never seen, completely blows your mind, than without warning EVERYTHING abruptly comes to a screeching halt so fast that you get whip lash! Then arbitrarily walks away without uttering an "I'm sorry," "You were seasons past," NOTHING!!  He owed me that, or at least I thought he did. You even tell a dog why it's being punished. And I felt I was being punished.

Since 7 (that single number rule again) signifies completeness, out of respect for me and for what turned out to be our season he could have prolonged the end for another week. Wouldn't you agree or am I being over dramatic as I'm sometimes known to be.   

Two words in Ecclesiastes 3:1, SEASON and TIME implies duration and a point in time, therefore; nothing on earth lasts forever. So as to not cause further agony to myself, today, I'll recognize God is omnipresent and know that he determines the time and the duration of everything.

As the story goes everything has a beginning and an ending, his and mine lasted only 6 weeks, but my neighbor who was again hitting her ceiling with the broom handle, well our season was now, "Fa so la ti doooooo!" HA!

Seasons, seasons, seasons

LUTHER

She missed his deep set eyes, his piercing stare, his taste, his masculine voice that originated in his belly, his heavy breathing while passionately tongue kissing her and pulling her short permed to an inch of its life red hair, his business advice, their rendezvous, his skin the color of midnight, his breath that smelled of cigars and Glenlivet 18, his laughter, his walk, his calling instead of texting... She missssed him, her secret, his secret...

"Anyone who had a heart would take me in his arms and love me too..." That song she could not get out of her head, as hard as she had tried. 

She didn't miss his secretiveness, his woman(s), his mystique, his unwillingness to commit to only her (well, that was impossible, because of his other situation/s), his paranoia of who may know about them, the them he once said, "Doesn't exist," his being cold and hot, how he toyed with her emotions, saying, "I'm figuring things out" then days later, "I'd like to touch you." 

"Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby, you said you'd be coming back this way again baby..." She quietly sang before screaming out, "I'm tired!" over and over again.

She knew what she had to do, run for refuge to the place that held all her secrets, brought her great peace and provided her answers. There she would cast her unrequited love for him in the ocean to be swept away for ever. 

It was 1145 Pm, 15 minutes before a new day, when she got out of her car and began walking bare foot in the sand, under the moon light listening to the roar of the ocean and watching the waves as they washed ashore. She hoped somehow her deep feelings for him would recede like a tsunami, but never return.  

As if being gently guided, She stopped and walked to the mouth of the ocean.  Her cleansing ritual began, as it always did, with her facing south. She closed her eyes and allowed the cool water to caress her feet.  With her arms stretched out and her palms facing the heavens, She exhaled deeply and prayed that god would separate their intertwined spirits so she could move on.  As tears flowed uncontrollably and with out inhibition, she felt a gradual release and for the first time in months she felt free. As she slowly opened her eyes, she saw what looked like a black ball  being taken under the waves and far out to sea, she smiled, dried her eyes and walked back to her car with a new sense of self and inner peace.

Seated in her car, she noticed it was 12:06 AM, the day after.  She looked at herself in the rear view mirror, said I love you into her eyes,  put on some lip gloss and started her engine. She began laughing out loud when, "Roll back the rug everybody, move all the tables and chairs, we're gonna have us a good time tonight..." Roared from her speakers. 

She was glad Luther had been with her through this journey. She sang along and drove off knowing that a new day had finally arrived.

**Readers, this is a tale of healing from a LoveHanger or HeartAche.  If you have no beach in your town, find a peaceful place where you can go to cast all your problems and fears**  Trust me, it works.     

Ruby Woo

As he stood in line at the corner liquor store orderIng his hog head cheese and asking that it be sliced thin, she stood behind him and said whenever she saw him, she felt like wrapping her Ruby Woo painted lips that resembled those of the ancestors around, over and down that Nigga's swollen manhood, until he told her he loved her over and over again. I laughed out loud, cause Alize Hennesy Monroe didn't like men, cause of some shit she said  happened to her when she was a kid. The crazy thang is that she said she ain't neva go get no help, cause she wanted to let dead dogs lie (Ladies and Men too, if someone fucked with y'all as a kid, tell someone and get help)!

Of course she would never put her big ass lips on his dick, cause she had never approached a man in her 33.5 years of livn', but they approached her. See Alize was one of them pretty lipstick lesbians. You know the type that wore 6" heels and Ruby Woo lipstick, even in the summer time. Her mama said only fassss ass women wore blood stained lips, especially when it was hot outside. 

Now, we ainte go talk about Alize's mama, but for a minute. Ms. Monroe called herself CREAM, cause cash ruled everythang around her.  Miss Cream, The one who always seemed to be wearing lingerie, who sat in her 2nd floor picture window pantyless with her legs spread apart, like it was the natural thing to do. The one who always had a Newport between shiny ample lips and who always held a glass of Smirnoff poured over ice in her well manicured  hands, was a very interesting woman.

I personally learned a lot from Miss Cream by just watching and listening to her.   She the one who told us, as girls, that our pussy's should be free of hair, that our legs, elbows and lips should always be greased up.  She knew a lot for a woman that did nothing, but mostly sit 1/2 assed naked in her window, drink vodka and smoke cigarettes.  My mama didn't tell me the things Miss Cream did.  Some of the shit she told us girls I can't even say here, but I can tell you I found it to be very useful when I was grown. 

Miss Cream was something else, the ladies at the church whispered. I think they was jealous and probably wished they could sit in they windows showing they pussy's to the world or either they thought Miss Cream had popped her thang on one of they men. She probably did.  When Ms. Cream got liquored up, which was every day, all you could hear her saying was, "All you ladies pop yo pussy like this..." or "Niggas ainte shit, but hoes and tricks."
Well, from the number of men she had creepn' out her crib at odd hours of the night, I'm sure Miss Cream could pop that pussy, and from the absolute lack of  men you saw during the day, I'm sure she thought they wasn't shit. (If you're reading this and you're a hoe, regardless of what you've heard or been told, you can change and actually become a housewife. I've seen it). I am not saying Ms. Monroe was a hoe,I'm just saying if you have hoe-ish ways, like they say Miss Monroe has, don't be discouraged). nbsp; 

Alize didn't give a damn if her mama was a hoe or drank Smirnoff from dusk to dawn, she always said, "That's my mama and I love her." (That's what kids are supposed to do, love they mamas. Daddy's was a different story though). 

As day turned to night, Alize told me what she would do if she saw him again, the one that had too many tattoos to count, who wore his NY Yankees cap turned to the side, his jeans real low showing his Calvin Klein briefs and his Air Forces white as snow. I listened like a good friend does before cutting her off saying, "You ainte go bust a grape," while sipping on some overly sweet ass Moscato.  Moscato is definitely not my drink of choice, because the shit is too damn sweet, but since it was free, I drank up.  (As a matter of my opinion, people especially blacks shouldn't drink Moscato.  It's one of the reasons they have problems with they sugar, drinking Moscato is like drinking sugar water).

It wasn't long before I saw him walking toward us, effortlessly looked kinda like the Nigga was gliding on air. He had more swag than our fine ass president. I know Michelle had to be poppin that pussy on him every night. That's why we ainte never heard about no damn intern slobbin on his dick and him spillin his presidential juices on nobodies dress or nothing else. I love my president and the fact he got him a Sista and a dark one at that. As he got closer, I could see why Zay wanted to put her mouth on him and I was go encourage her cause that's what friends do. He was a sexy blue black mutha fucka. "Zay!" I yelled in a 1/2 tipsy and 1/3 too loud to be safisticated voice, "There that Nigga is, what you go do!" egging her on. Alize Hennesy Monroe looked me dead in my eyes and said, pass me the Ruby Woo...

Love Em, But Leave Em

This is a cautionary post for all my ladies over 40...

Ladies, Men that are in their late 20's and 30's are not to be considered for a serious relationship.  They are for: Looking at with lustful eyes sometimes, fantasizing about while pleasuring yourself, updating your iPod with all the latest rap for your gym workouts, for telling you they'd drink your urine (true story), and for sexing sometimes. 

Do NOT and I Repeat Do NOT confuse multiple orgasms, for loving him And, by all means Do NOT look into his eyes, if you do, you are a goner.  They have some kinda hypnotic power!  (My friend, in my head, Wendy Williams agrees, well truth be told she warned us, the 40 sumthins, on her show about this). Look at Demi Moore, she has completely lost her mind.  What a shame, she didn't recognize what it really was.

These relationships don't work as long term anyway for several reasons.  The most important reason is a woman in her 40's eggs are probably all dried up.  And you know he'll eventually want a child.  Most 40 sumthins don't want any more children even if the seed finds an unsuspecting viable egg to penetrate,  because they probably have grown kids and grands too. 

So, my 40 and up sistas recognize what it is and LOVE EM, BUT LEAVE EM...  05/19/12, 2200

Shake ya ass, watch ya self

Umbilical cords are still attached to grown ass kids and their parents. Yea, some daddies have them attached to them as well.

"UmbiliKids" is what I call them. These adult kids range in age from 18 - 38, some older, both male and female and there is no specific race. They still depend on mom or dad for 1 or all of the following: food, shelter, clothing, cigarettes, money or contributions to their fabulous life styles.

While they are reaping all the benefits they: Talk shit, make their own house rules, have attitudes and sum Otha dumb shit. 

One day as I sat in my office  my phone rang, "Riiiing!" "Hello" I said. "My son (who is 28) will be late for his interview, because he overslept," the caller said. Me 0_0 staring at the phone and thinking, "No, his mama, just did not call me!" "Thanks for calling," was my response. When UmbiliKid arrived, he was promptly thanked and excused.
Come on Son, the least you could have done was to call yourself!

UmbiliKids usually have a parent or parents that make a reasonable living and have overindulged the Umbili's as they were growing up. And, as adults the parents have looked for jobs for them, typed resumes, completed apps, bent rules and allowed them to talk shit without repercussion and consequence. And, most have the God awful "Right of entitlement" attitude.

UmbiliKids, work and with their money they: shop, wet their whistles with too much alcohol, smoke weed, snort cocaine indulge in designer drugs (WTF is that you ask: Ecstasy seems to be a very popular one). Most couldn't pass a poly or drug test to save their own Umbili neck!" 

They live the life of Riley: They sleep late, take trips, half do chores (if they do any at all),  "Shake ya ass watch ya self" in clubs wearing the finest clothes and shoes, before exiting to retrieve their rides from valet to go salivate over lobster pizza at Berri's.

Some UmbiliKids don't even contribute to the house by buying toilet paper to wipe their precious asses or a loaf of bread for their favorite sandwich, which they can count on making with meat their parents have purchased for the Umbili's consumption. 

It's not Umbili's fault they act this way, it's the parents fault. 

UmbiliKids are not dumb, a lot are educated and degreed up (by either the streets, books or both). My co-workers son has 2 masters degrees and working on a 3rd. He refuses to work, lives in her home off money left by his dad (which she said is almost gone) and plays video games all day. He's 30 something. Oh yea, she said he doesn't even clean up after himself or make his bed and that she does it after her 10 hour work day... GTFOH! The kicker is  he brings strange hot girls into her home at night to screw... Uhhh huh 

If you are an UmbiliKid and you are reading this and you live at your parent's home, because the economy is bad and you can't find a job to sustain an apartment and everything that comes with being on your own or you just prefer having all your hard earned money to yourself, my advise to you is to: SHUT THE F*#K UP, be nice, kind, smile often, speak in soft tones, buy some toilet paper, pay a light bill and be productive in your parent's home! 

Parents, time for reprogramming and cutting the umbilical cord, because we have real.com messes on our hands! 

I shake, shiver and convulse  thinking UmbiliKids are our future...

"Shake ya ass, watch ya self..." 

06/22/11, 0622hrs

Lick This

People please STOP putting ya'lls mouths on everything you think is: cute/fine, smells good, has a good job, drives a nice car, has a nice crib, dresses well, degreed up (has 1 or more college degrees), speaks well, bodied up (baad meaning good body), blah, blah, blah

Especially y'all men, because y'all are the first ones that wanna lick and taste something! A male friend called and told me the honey he thought tasted like mangos and sum otha exotic fruits (well, not his words, exactly, my line from my blog "Excuse Me Ms") finally allowed him to taste the fruit and what he received in return was  Herpes, yep, that for which there is no cure.

I just read an article on www.ashastd.org that stated Nearly 1 in 2 African American adults have genital Herpes, but 90% don't know it.  WTF!! That sure is high! So, that means every other black person has Herpes??? Awww, hell to the no, that study can't be right! Can it?? If so, that's scary!

Hmm, reading those stats had me thinking about the "Tuskegee syphilis experiment" (with a twist) which was conducted btw 1932-1972 in Alabama on black men (if you are not familiar with this, slap ya self then Google it).

In another article, same site, it was stated: Experimental trial Herpes vaccine doesn't work for women. Well double damn! Eve really F*#%*d things up, when she had Adam bite that apple: Periods, labor pain, too damn emotional and now a Herpes vaccine that doesn't work for women... 4Realz??? What part of the game is that!

Ok, back to my friend, he said he ONLY sucked her Ussy once and hasn't been with anyone, besides his right hand, in a minute. A week after the sampling and savoring, he said he got a strange cluster of bumps and to his dismay was diagnosed with Herpes. Now, his ass is all mad. "Damn, she didn't look like she had nothing," Is what he said. I stared at the phone, and said, "4realz, Son!"

Now for my PSA (Public Service Announcement): If you are really into oral satisfaction, giving or receiving, consider using a dental dam.  www.sgfelken.com has pictures and explains it's use during oral activity. I'm pretty sure the feeling won't be as intense, but you will avoid the clusters my boy has, is all...

Reciprocity

**Before reading this, please read RECEIVERS and THE MIKE TYSON SYNDROME (MTS)***

Men, when you sleep with a woman it is very important to call and say hi, what's up or how are ya, the next day, even if you don't plan on ever seeing her again.

Most women would like to think giving themselves to you meant a lil somethin (especially if you've hung out a few times).

Fella's expect a bit of emotion, on the receivers part, to come with the receipt of your joy stick; Rather you like it (No, not the sex, the emotion) or not. Even a text (So Los Angeles) is better than nada.

When that very small token of appreciation is not extended unnecessary hurt feelings are created and depending on the woman's experiences and emotional luggage, something far more serious could be born: Stalker Or MTS.

Doesn't matter if you just wanted to hit and run, don't make the woman feel like you only wanted the Ussy, even if it's the truth.)You never know, when you'll have a dry spell, so like my mama says, "Don't burn no bridges"). Hey, Hi, What's up, how are you... #isall

I'm just saying be appreciative and show some reciprocity.

Excuse me Ms

"Bonita Applebum you gotta put me on..." Is what played in my head when I saw Her.

And, Her smile...It was so, so E LEC TRI FYING...

Mmmmmm, she smelled so nice was it Jo Malone, Marc Jacobs  or Balenciaga...

The mere touch of her skin ignited something animalistic inside me...

The sweet melodic sound of Her voice as she said, "Hello," sent chills of joy throughout my  EN TIRE EX IS TANCE...

I bet she tastes like mangos and sum otha exotic fruits. I can tell.

She enticed all 5 of my senses and by looking into Her big brown eyes I umm, I, I knew we'd need some prophylactics.

"Excuse me Ms," is what this brutha is going to say, next time I see her. Excuse me Mssssss...

Hello and welcome to BEAUTIFUL MIND, BODY, SOUL and SPIRIT.  I wrote this in the voice of a man.  Clever, huh.  This is what I think men think when they see beautiful women.  This particular peice took place in a grocery store in my mind.  The MIND is a BEAUTIFUL thing, Don't you agree.   

Make Love To My Body, Not My Mind

Ladies, a Nu man that makes love to your mind is more addicting and  intoxicating than one that makes love to your body.

Mind love is much more sensual, intimate and orgasmic.

Foreplay for a man that makes love to your mind is: Gently and methodically caressing your thoughts, Staring so deeply into your soul you shiver and sometimes you even speak in tongues, Making you laugh till you cry, Penetrating your being so deeply you think of him even when you sleep, Communicating to you with only his eyes and lips and the ability to make your Beautiful Mind Body Soul and Spirit come alive and feel brand Nu, all without physical love making of any kind.

If I had to choose between a man making passionate love to my mind or to my body, I'd choose the latter. I've experienced mind love and I'll just say that, for me, physical love making is easier to shake and control. Yes, really. Lol! Is all.

Mind vs Body which will you choose...

Happy Monday!

Wolves in Sheeps clothes

My mother always told me to beware of wolves in sheeps clothes. Well, ladies, I'm passing that advice on to you.

The wolves I'm speaking of, today, are the married ones.

Ladies, Let's be honest, you know 98% of the time when a man is married even when he doesn't have on a band.

If you're a little slow, these are the clues:

A - You've never been to his crib. B - You only have his cell. C - You've only met one of his boys (they always tell one). D - You haven't seen his baby daughter since she started talking  E - You only see him the day before a holiday: Thanksgiving eve, or the Day after: February 15th.  F - He always gets up in the middle of the night to leave. G - He never takes you out in public, but he brings you take out from Maestro's, (come on, who does that). H - You've been taken to the hospital, but he can't come because it's 6 and that's when he sits down with his family for dinner.

The other 2% of the time there is some real trickeration in motion. What a wolf in sheeps clothing does is: Have his very own love nest AKA Lair (resting place for wild animals). And of course the wife doesn't know about it. You even spend the night and park in his space. When you're sneaking peeks, in cabinets, there are no signs of a woman (No tampons or nail polish). He takes you to nice public places (Wife, her friends or her fam never go to that side of town). He intro's you to his friends and a few of his relatives. He does everything a single man, your man, would do.

Once your body and mind begins to crave him, the truth somehow reveals itself (of course he doesn't tell you). Maybe a "friend" or relative, who thought you knew, lets his status "slip." You're devastated, because you thought he was the ONE! You ask him why he hadn't told you and he says, "Because I knew you wouldn't F%#k with me."

Wolves, that's a low down dirty shame!

Ladies, you've invested all your time, emotions (ya'll know how emotional we can be) and energy on a wolf. It hurts, I know from my own experience with a wolf back in my formative years.

What do you do, now... You step, no matter how difficult. You MUST walk away. Your dream has turned into a nightmare and your reality has been turned upside down.

I normally have suggestions or answers, but Unfortunately, I have no answer to detect the wolf, because they live 2 full and complete lives.

Wolves in sheeps clothes, are real. *Howlingggg*

Don't Stay

Don't Stay

Funny how decisions we MUST make to be fully happy, sometimes hurt someone/others.

Life is so short and unpredictable. YOU should NOT  stay in a situation to make someone/others happy while you are miserable (miserable meaning you have not been happy w/that person for a long time. Not that they've just pissed you off).

Life is for living and at times tough decisions MUST be made to live an abundant life!

DON'T stay for the children, Continue to take care of them in a happy environment. DON'T stay because of the beautiful home, Move into an apartment and be HAPPY. DON'T stay because you fill obligated because they helped you through school and was with you when you were broke, Apologize and give them a very generous departure gift. DON'T stay because you think you can't find anyone as pretty/handsome or with a 6 pack or brown round, Just walk 3 blocks and turn left, Damn, there another one is! DON'T stay because they buy you expensive gifts, You have enough to last a life time. DON'T stay because they threaten to kill themselves, Pray for them and keep moving your boxes.

STAY only if you want to  further stifle your growth and prolong that unhappy feeling.

Everyone is in charge of their own happiness... DON'T be a casualty.

Run Jane Run

Years ago, I walked into Compton Courts District attorneys office and was alarmed by what I saw. It was a wall with pictures of hundreds of women, from varying states, that had been murdered by their significant others. The ages ranged from 13 to 82.

Domestic violence has no color line or socioeconomic status.

Years later, I walked into a murder suicide scene that clearly remains in my mind. When she could no longer tolerate his controlling ways and grew tired of the beatings, she left. After months of building a Nu and happy life in a different city, she agreed to meet him at a public place, deadly mistake... Women, DO NOT do that. No good can come of it.

As we all know, abuse comes in different forms: Verbal, physical, sexual and psychological. And, the perpetrator is 27% times a woman and 73% times a man.

Besides the obvious hitting, if YOU are being told you're ugly, fat, no one else would want YOU, being forced to have sex, being isolated from your family and friends, and the perpetrator governing every single aspect of your life, that IS abuse.

As the book, "Dick and Jane" (A book used in schools in the 70's to teach children to read) said, "Run Jane Run," gurl YOU need to leave. YOU deserve better and YOU are worth so much more than his crash test dummy doll.

I understand it may be difficult financially, for some and YOU may be afraid, because of threats, "If you leave me, I'll kill you," (Which he/she is already doing in a spiritual sense), but develop a plan and get ghost.

Shelters are available, if YOU don't have a friend or relative willing to take YOU in.

Unless YOU know a "Pookie and nem" get a restraining order they help, sometimes. If cops are called regarding a domestic violence matter, they can issue  a Temporary restraining order (TRO), which takes effect that very moment, but YOU MUST go to court on the specified date to have it solidified.

NEVER agree to meet him after the fact even if YOU share children. Some are so sick they'll take YOU and the children out. Former NY Nicks, center, Eddie Curry's, girlfriend, a 24 year old woman from Chicago and their 9 month old daughter was murdered in "09" by her ex boyfriend an attorney.

She met the 37 year old attorney when he defended her in a case against Curry for their first child, a 3 year old boy. The young woman and her baby were both shot numerous times after she allowed her ex who she previously had a restraining order against, but had it dropped, into her condo. Her 3 year old son was the witness (Google the story).

Ladies, please don't allow yourself to fall victim to DV, the signs are normally blaring and plainly written: Jealously, possessiveness, name calling, pulling on YOU, "Gurl, I'm jus playn." uh uh, S I G N S

If you find yourself in an abusive situation, Please do yourself a favor and, "Run Jane Run."

The Mike Tyson Syndrome (MTS)

Ladies, if you are a consenting adult and have a consensual intimate encounter with a man,  it is NOT rape if: He does not walk you to the door afterwards, call you the next day, ignore your texts, decline an invite or doesn't leave home.  Women, I'm not discounting your hurt feelings, but it is NOT rape.

Within the past 24 hours 2 rape allegations have been brought forward.  After being interviewed, the women cited one of the above...

If there is any doubt you may not be able to handle the mind/behavior of the detached male, after the pleasure principle, (You know yourself better than anyone) DO NOT and I repeat DO NOT proceed. (Refer to my BLOG "RECEIVERS").

Bringing a false rape allegation against a man is horribly wrong in every sense.

Ladies, Play fair and if you can't, do what my mom always told me to do, "Keep ya drawers up and your dress down."

Hello and welcome to: Beautiful Mind, Body, Soul and Spirit

F me pumps

"When you walk in the bar and you're dressed like a star Rockn' your F me pumps and the man notices you with your Gucci bag crew. Can't tell who he's looking to.

Cuzz y'all all look the same everyone knows your name and that's your whole claim to fame...Never miss a night, cuzz your dream in life is to be a footballers wife.

You're more then a fan, looking for a man, but you end up with one night stands, he could be your whole life if you got past one night, but that part never goes right..."

One of my favorite AMY WINEHOUSE songs, "F ME PUMPS"

Ladies, if this sounds like you, time to change what you do: 1 - Stop sleeping with men you just meet. Give it some time, cultivate a friendship, find out the N*#%#s last name. 2 - If looking for a man with some money, STOP going to the Dynasty, the Cork, Frieda's and the Savoy. Change it up and start going to upscale hotel bars, you'll definitely find men of substance and dollars there (not that there aren't any at the aforementioned bars). Beverly Hills has plenty. 3 - Pick up a new hobby.  Golf would be an excellent choice. Get some cheap clubs from Big 5, Ninety-nine dollars and take a few lessons. 4 - Start smoking cigars and begin
frequenting cigar lounges. Cigar lounges are cool and the men are laid back, gentlemanly and most importantly you have choices (for etiquette in cigar lounges, please read my blog  HUMP). Cigars are Also welcome, poolside, at hotel lounges. 5 - Look Good, "Hair done nails done everything did." Just don't over do it. DO NOT have chipped nails or fake designer bags AND PLEASE DO NOT HAVE THE PLASTIC PIECE OF YOUR PUMP MISSING where you're walking on the metal. NOT a good look or sound "Clank clank."  6 - Brush up on newsworthy events and politics.

7 - Buy a bottle of Jo Malone and Balenciaga. (Men are really attracted to expensive smells). Spray it starting at the top of your head, yes hair too (You may be talking to a very tall man. Why not allow him the pleasure of being intoxicated by "Jo or B"). Not necessary to use much, because these fragrances are expensive and go along way.  Periodically,  freshen up your fragrance, with a squirt, when you go to the ladies room to powder your nose (An oily face is a no no). 8 - Smile and flirt with your eyes subtly. AVOID HAVING THAT HUNGRY look, that scares men. 9 - DO NOT take your posse. NO need giving a man too many choices. You want to be the belle of the ball.

"You did too much E, you met somebody and spent the night getting caned.." 10 - Ladies leave the drugs alone and DO NOT drink too much. The only thing that can come of this is you sitting on his D#*k in your car in the parking lot. If that happens you've set a bad precedent and you will be "Dusting off your F me pumps" and getting busy in your car in a parking lot the entire relationship.  11 - When wearing a dress, legs MUST be shaved to a smooth finish and topped off with something that will make them shiny (Vaseline works).  12- Men are really turned on by "F me pumps," so wear them. 

Lastly, ladies, ALWAYS act like a lady, keep it slightly sexy and have your own money.

"You don't like players, that's what you said, but you really wouldn't mind a millionaire, you don't like ballers, they don't do nothing for you, but you'd like a rich man 6 foot 2 or taller..."

Enjoy, your "F me pumps" responsibly

Practice what you preach

She screamed it from the mountain top, "No Glove, No Love, cause you never know what these N*%#*'s got!"

She had it all and lived the American dream, but what she didn't have was a man with the 3 6's: A 6 pack, a 6 figure salary and a 6" d*%k.

When she found him and opened the handsomely wrapped package, she was presented with a gift that she'd have for the rest of her life AIDS. She did not practice what she preached...

Thirty years ago, last week, the 1st 2 people in the United States died of Pneumonia that was attributed to Aids. During that time, it was known as a disease only homosexual men got. When Magic Johnson was diagnosed, it became an epidemic.

My friend works in a clinic in Los Angeles. Over the past 3 years, she said, the face of AIDS is women over 50 years old. These women had been married for a significant part of their lives and   have found themselves single, because of divorce or death. They contracted the virus through a dating relationship.

A sure way to avoid HIV/AIDS is to be tested together. But, since we live in an, "I want it now society," please use condoms.

Remember to, "Wrap It Up."

The darker the berry

I think dark sista's are some of the most beautiful women on earth. My mom is a chocolate sista and I can remember growing up staring at her in total aw and amazement as she applied her rouge and put on her panty hose and beautiful clothes (she taught me to be the fashionista I am). 

Her skin was and still is so smooth, kinda like Hershey's dark chocolate. She exuded the confidence of a regal queen. In my eyes and that of some of my friends, she was the most beautiful of them all. 

I didn't know until much later that some of the dark sista's I thought were so beautiful, had a complex about the hue of their skin. Sad thing is the insecurity was created not only by taunts from the school yard, but by family members, that were suppose to love and protect them. Who would say to a teenager, "Don't believe the hype, cause your dark berry juice ainte sweet at all?" but an ignorant fool! 

I recently spoke to a friend who confided that she's still struggling with that and she's in her 40's. When a fine man tries to talk to her, she questions his motives, because "Why would
he be interested in me, as dark as I am?" 

Another said she loves black men, but had her babies with a man of another race so they
wouldn't suffer as she had. A sad shame...

Chocolate sista's, that don't already know, y'all are beautiful! Embrace, except and love the skin you are in. Who Eva doesn't like it, "F#*%k em and feed em beans," in the words of my beautiful deep chocolate mama!

Peace, I'm out

Ussy

Track 6 is what was playing on her iPod. "Maybach music, You think you using me like this game's new to me..." In her birthday suit sitting on the edge of unadulterated pleasure and her porcelain tub she spread her legs and with her rhinestone hand held mirror looked at her Ussy.

Admiring her she Whispered, mirror mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all. The mirror revealed her beautiful image...

Ladies, do you really understand how much power you have? Ussy, has brought down empires and has made the most powerful man fall from grace.

"But you ainte using me, you just want jewelry..." Ladies stop giving yours away so free willy style. You have bargaining power. I don't care if the man is a preacher or a prominent figure at the end of the day, they all want Ussy.

Lighting up her Gurkha Majesty Reserve she smiled and sang, "We'll be cool as long as you just play your part..."

Ussy, is sometimes better than gold, use yours wisely...

Morning! I told y'all I was gonna hit y'all with something a lil light today, after yesterday's, "IT HURTS SO BAD."  Booooo yow!

Peace until tomorrow, "I ainte stoppn' you and you ainte stoppn' me..."

It hurts so bad

Her hand written letter said, "I cannot take the pain anymore. The pain of my heart is worst then labor pains and it doesn't subside. Every moment my mind is filled with thoughts of him. I can't continue on like this. I'm sorry, I love you, but the pain is unbearable." 

So, dressed in a pretty laced night gown, with a fist full of pills, a glass of carbonated liquid and a plastic grocery bag, she ended the pain for ever... 

Good morning, this blog is of unbearable heartache. Who hasn't had their heart broken at sometime. I know I have. Once in a past life time, it seems, I was broken hearted for almost a year. No one could tell, because I looked beautiful on the outside, never missed work and kept that fake happy smile plastered on my face, but the exuberance of the butterfly was gone. 

Some days the pain was intense. And, on those days, I surrounded myself by my 2 girl friends who gave me love and literally fed me chicken soup, while wiping my eyes and blowing my nose (Thanks T & D I'll never forget that). I also prayed, got out the house and placed huge red check marks on my calendar which marked how long it had been since I dialed his number or paged him (yes paged).

One day, I woke up to HEAR birds singing, was again able to SMELL the flowers, FEEL the sun on my skin, SEE with both eyes open the beauty that surrounded me and TASTED life! "Oh Happy Day!" My beautiful mind, body, soul and spirit sang out! The Butterfly again had her wings. 

Fella's pain of the heart is not gender specific. I once nursed a brotha/friend through his. No, he wasn't a weak man, just one that had fallen in love and had been hurt. His sands called him, "Lova Lova," because women were drawn to him like bees to honey. His eyes were hypnotic, body resembled the Discobolus of Myron and he put the S' in strong and sexy. (ok, I've digressed). 

Pain of the heart has to run it's course, unfortunately, you can't rush it. Stay busy, surrounded by love and definitely prayful and this too shall pass. If you allow it to consume you, you'll end up like her; eyes closed hands folded lying under beautiful flowers and the moon. 

I'm out y'all, I'll come back tomorrow with something a bit lighter. Ha!

Craving

I woke up to the sun beaming brightly through my window. It  was beckoning me to do something Nu and exciting. 

My soul and spirit have been craving something Nu. The craving is so intense, it's gnawing at every part of my being. I  yearn and require Nu experiences, sounds, tastes, food and people, every so often. When that craving is not satisfied, there's an empty, unfulfilled and suffocating feeling. 

I've found the older I get the more curious I've become about life and exploration. I'm always seeking things that are Nu.

Today, instead of rereading what I've already written, I will flip the page and write something on a blank sheet of paper that's Nu...

Good morning world and welcome to my blog.