Birthday Fit for a King

Today is a GREAT day. A Monumental Occasion. At 6:07 am 2 years ago today, My body began the eviction process for my uterus's Tenant later to be Known as Kingston M.E.

What a Fun day that was......


I called king's dad and said i'm having some contractions so i'm sure hell be here sometime next week so just be available.
He said I'm coming over, I said don't bother this is just the practice run.
Called my Doctor
Hey Doc, having some contractions, I remember you said don't come unless I'm having contractions every 4 minutes for at least an hour. When I called They were 11 minutes apart, now they're 3 minutes apart....Oh I should come RIGHT NOW? umm ok.


got to the hospital 7.5 cm dialated, tried to push while my doctor ate a bagel w/ cream cheese
failed
had to get drugged up and cut open
eviction suceeded
he debuted at 3:30 pm 73107




He slept



I fed and burped him

(that's when my hair was natural...)

I enjoyed my post baby figure




Dressed him as a Worm


Dressed him as Santa


Had him dedicated


Gave him an Apple






He drank from a Cup



Took his braids out



Let him Pose on his Bike Thingy



Let him Ride his bike Thingy




Watched him Cry




Caught him Eating Chocolate Cupcakes in the morning


All in all It's been Great. I've had my tired moments


But he's worth it





Happy Birthday Munchkin







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1 Corinthians 13:11

A while back I read this post from the Soul of it all appropriately called Be a Man or Be a Punk. As the name suggests, he was in an incident where he was challenged by a group of men while in front of his girlfriend. They (he and the guys in the car) ended up fighting. His girlfriend was upset because she felt he should have just left it alone. He ended the post with the following question:

“Should I have kept quiet and risk being a punk or maned up and risk being jumped?”




I had a fight at the age of 16 where the girl’s mother thought about pressing charges. Had she not been my 4th grade teacher, I’m quite certain she would have. That was the turning moment in my life. I thought about what could have happened if I had gotten arrested for something as petty as fighting the girl who claimed I should have been president of the forehead club. From that day, I knew I wouldn’t allow my pride to stop me from attaining the things I dreamed for. I remember walking with my then boyfriend and some young skeezer made a comment about how weird we looked together because of the great difference in height. I felt slighted, especially after she included something about him being better off with her. Another incident he and I were play arguing on the train but to the Jamaican women across from us it looked real and she commented in her thick patois accent that a man like him would be more appreciated by a woman like her and that these American girls don’t know how to make a man feel appreciated.

In both instances I felt aggrieved. First I felt they were somehow challenging me, emphatically stating that I was not woman enough to be with this particular man. Secondly, they did so in front of him and I felt like I needed to save face, yet each time I resisted the urge to allow my inner Joe Frazier to come out and play. Though it was hard on my pride for that second it was a relatively easy decision for me. Somehow this is THE hardest thing for a MAN to do.

Once while walking with my then boyfriend, a ran into a guy who said some pretty awful things about me during that camp incident. He said hi to me, I ignored him, he pressed the issue, still I ignored him. When we finally walked past him, my boyfriend asked me who he was and I explained the situation, he was livid. Ready to fight. I grabbed his arm and said it isn’t worth it. You couldn’t tell him that.

A friend of mine recently went through something with an in-law. She wanted to tell her husband but knew that he’d be very angry – to the point of wanting to kill the inlaw. So she stayed quiet. I felt bad that she felt she couldn’t turn to her husband about the situation because of what his reaction would have been.

Manning up isn’t all about pumping up your chest or showcasing your fighting abilities. Sometimes, Manning up is putting one foot in front of the other and walking away. When you win the fight you haven’t proved that you are more man than the loser, you simply showed that physically you were the fittest. This showing of testosterone would be great if we were still uncivilized savages, choosing our mates based on rituals of strength and bravado. We are not those creatures anymore and should act accordingly. Perhaps as a woman, I will never understand this from a man’s point of view. Perhaps there our history prevents me from understanding the psychological issues faced by men of color when dealing with issues challenging their manhood or ability to protect a loved one. One thing I do know is while fighting may make the winner/protector feel like job well done, the original issue still exists (if not compounded by the consequences of the fight)

"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

Like Rafiki said to Simba:
"It is Time"



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Thou Shalt Not Covet.....

Unless it's these shoes



Python Sandal with Bells from Azzedine Alaia
1943< not the year...The price
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I'm telling you, Cheaters NEVER prosper

"Queens woman pours boiling water on cheating husband's crotch"






Her: A 67 year old nurse
Him: A 67 year old nurse
Stable family, or so one would assume. She apparently grew tired of his infidelity. He says he had recently been faithful. One late night too many set off that spark and she burned him. Literally.
I want to laugh, I just can't. I know that shit hurt.

"I didn't know what had happened. By the time I woke up, the skin was falling off," Ojofeitimi said

"It sounded like a woman screaming," a neighbor said

Story here




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Seduction of the Grey Matter

Mentally fucking me with his words
sprung from his prose
Multiple orgasms caused by his diction
Vaginal clenchings from each stroke
His bic longer than his dic
hitting spots his organ couldn't fathom,
Loving,
touching,
caressing my cerebellum,

Spewing inspiratory ink
Fertilizing the eggs implanted in the tissues of creativity
Flacidity never an issue, his pen remains tall,
Erecting my mind to sears tower heights
offering me his essence
Disrobing, revealing and exposing the splendid curves near his crown

Syllable by syllable he takes me on a ride
Acension
Hanging on for dear life,
quivering at each plateau
Straddling his punctuantion
Panting
Struggling to breathe through this orgasmic wave of words
Asthmatic
The air heavy with lust,
Wet with passion
He guides me on this ride
From conception to birth
Without his fingers grazing my moistened skin
His words kneaded my soul
And I came


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Talk about our Love.....Tag

I had a few topics to cover but I was getting my daily blog readage and came upon this at Gem's place
And it turns out I was tagged anyway so here it Goes


Instructions: Using only song titles from ONE ARTIST OR BAND, answer these questions. Pass it on to 12 people and include me. You can't use the artist or band I used. Do not repeat a song title. Repost as "My Life According to (ARTIST OR BAND NAME)"




Pick Your Artist: Brandy (sure you saw that coming)

Are you a male or female?: Who I am

Describe yourself: Angel in Disguise

How do you feel: Wow

Describe where you currently live: Right Here

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: 1st and Love, Top of the World

Your favorite form of transportation: Sirens

Your best friend is: Human

Your favorite color is: Camouflage

What's the weather like: Warm it Up

Favorite time of the day: Tomorrow

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Learn the Hard Way

What is life to you: Necessary

Your relationships: Torn Down

Your fear: Fall

What is the best advice you have to give: Say you will

If you could change your name, you would change it to: Afrodisiac

Thought for the Day: Almost Doesn’t Count

How I would like to die: Die without you

My soul's present condition: True

My Motto: Come As You Are

I'm tagging
Mr. Socialight (even thuogh you did one very simliar to this)
Muze
Queen Bee
Insatiable One (Do yours in the comment section
12 Kyle
DeLacool
Super Dave
reedwrites
Kelly, Nina Kiyyah
The Soul of it All
Epitome
and whomever happens upon this page and decides to do it..

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Ummm.... Something don't smell right

I pride myself with being real. I have that you like it or hate it personality. There is no in between.
For the most part you ask me a question and I'll give you my advice and it will be honest-sometimes brutally honest.
But
here's
where
I
falter.......

How do you tell someone (that you care about) their cooter stinks?



I have a problem broaching topics of hygiene--intimate hygiene with close friends, female friends. Key word is broaching b/c if you ask me I have to be honest. I'm like Pinocchio that way.

I had a friend (we're no longer friends) who had an odor...down there. There would be times when she was entertaining company and you could smell her down the hallway. You wouldn't even need that white sock on teh door b/c your nose warned you. I'm not sure if the other people on the floor realized it was her but I damn sure knew it, and NEVER told her... She never asked. She once said to me this guy didn't go down on her and I just stayed quiet and allowed her to list the reasons it may be that he wouldn't do it. I suppose that would have been an excellent time to suggest she see a doctor or at least wash a bit more thoroughly. I just couldn't.

I also should probably have told another woman that I can smell her period. Sounds weird and disgusting and well it is but it's true. She has THAT odor when she gets her period and its noticable.

I supposed we all have had the moment when we've walked into the bathroom after someone and it smelled rank and they only peed. Actually I get busted on this one depending on how fast I enter the bathroom after them b/c my face CAN NOT tell a lie. Not even a tiny ol white lie. My nose scrunches up and my lips turn and my eyes squint. Only thing I can manage to say on this one is: You should drink More water"

I think I chalk it up to the fact that you should know if you're smelling less than fresh. I know when I work out I smell like sweat and since I don't smell that way all the time it's very distinct. I don't know.

How do you tell someone they are a bit musky?





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Lights, Camera, Action

So I live in New York. Apparently its the place to be since its home to a lot of celebrities. For the most part I am not star struck. I've run into (literally), sat next to, dined across from many celebrites, no not look alikes but celebrities and while I know who they are I don't go running after them for an autograph nor do I make it apparent that they are who they are. To me they're just regular people and I respect their privacy. Again there are some people that would probably have to get a restraining order against me (namely Will Smith and Ray Allen) but for the most part you're free to roam around the NY streets without being disturbed by me.

I literally sat across from Ethan Hawke on the train and we stared at each other. He'd look down, I'd continue typing on my blackberry, look up and we'd lock eyes again. - swore he was doing sometype of sociological experiment as this went on until he got off on the train. I could have said hey Ethan, loved you in Training Day. I find that to be rude, here he is riding the subwayn clearly being ethan hawke. Why bother him. He's entitled to a life right. I left him alone, it was a black guy who outed him by saying KING KONG aint got nothing on me (I swear that's the only line black men know from that movie) to which the white girl next to him went up in flames bc she was sitting next to him the entire time and was too superficial to look at this shabby looking guy.

My sister and I sat on the bus with Joan Allen. I whispered Ke, that's Joan Allen. She's like who? I say john travolta's wife in face off. You know what my dumb ass sister does next? She says OHHHHHH, then runs her hands down my face like they did in the movie. Then says "face.....off". Joan Allen sat on the bus cracking up at my sister. We got off and wished her a good day.

While rushing to pick up my son from the babysitter one day, my sister and I saw the colonel from a different world. We had no clue what his real name but we saw him and as we were trying to figure it out he helped us.

On 42nd street I bumped someone dropping their umbrella. I pick it up and apologize and it was Tamara Tunie (the ME from SVU)

I saw Kerry Washington years ago when walking home from 125th. Funny thing is, I noticed her because of her boyfriend.

I was going to express and they had nothing I wanted so I was about to walk out the store until I saw the incredible ms. Lynn Whitfield. (Ok groupie status) I did approach her and told her I admired her work, was a great fan and enjoyed Sophie and the moonhanger. She smiled, grabber her daughter and left.

I was driving in Soho and watched Common and his (I assume it was his) daughter cross the street in front of the car (he had to speak to/acknowledge us b/c we gave him the go ahead when he was clearly in the wrong. tsk tsk tsk, I hate when parents and care givers do that)

With all this name dropping I feel like another blogger and I could go on and on with my celebrity encounters but I tell all these to introduce my latest run in. I was on 23rd street, on my way back from Burlington Coat Factory when I spotted Jerry Stiller. Now King of Queens is on repeat in my house and I am thee biggest fan of Zoolander and it not like you can not notice Jerry Stiller. Now we're walking towards him, I said to my sister rather excitedly "it's Jerry Stiller". Do you know what this asshole does. He looks at us dead in the eye and turns his back to us and looks in the window and waits for us to pass him. Pissed me off for several reasons. First of all I saw you. Did you think if I were some type of crazed fan that you simply turning your back would prohibit me from making contact with you?

Secondly, you're Jerry Stiller. I'm of a certain age that I should not know who you are as your hay day was far prior to my birth year. You're work with your son introduced me to you and while I'm a fan of your work I'm really not a big fan of you, the person. Sure you're funny but you're no Will Smith. Don't flatter yourself.
Lastly, don't be so presumptious. I had no intention of approaching you. What so ever. Reminds me of the scene when zoolander went up to accept the male model of the year award when it Hansel actually won it. What an ass.


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Randomousity meets Current Events

So not everything is black card pullable.
Enter Henry Louis Gates Jr.


If you're in a posh neigborhood and your neighbors see a man trying to force himself in your front door, chances are they will call the cops. When the cops ask you to identify yourself and you refuse, you will be arrested. It has nothing to do with your skin color. You were given the opportunity to explain, You declined ergo your subsequential arrest. Nothing Racist about that (does your neighbor not know you're black?)
It seemed to have taken a twist when Gates allegedly began shouting the officer was racist and disrupting the peace. (this is a quaint community so yes he was disrupting the peace) So now everyone is up in arms saying "if he had been a White professor this would not have happened." They're right. The white professor would have complied with the officer and showed his ID, proving he was indeed the owner of that residence and the incident would have ended.
Here is the Police report. It makes for an interesting read. I especially like the part where this Harvard Scholar allegedly said "i'll meet yo mama on outside"

Here is Gate's Statement through his attorney:

"Professor Gates then asked the police officer if he would give him his name and his badge number. He made this request several times. The officer did not produce any identification nor did he respond to Professor Gates’s request for this information. After an additional request by Professor Gates for the officer’s name and badge number, the officer then turned and left the kitchen of Professor Gates’s home without ever acknowledging who he was or if there were charges against Professor Gates. As Professor Gates followed the officer to his own front door, he was astonished to see several police officers gathered on his front porch. Professor Gates asked the officer’s colleagues for his name and badge number. As Professor Gates stepped onto his front porch, the officer who had been inside and who had examined his identification, said to him, “Thank you for accommodating my earlier request,” and then placed Professor Gates under arrest. He was handcuffed on his own front porch."

E.R Doctors warn there will be more accidents as people are more glued to their blackberry screens than the world around them.



Girl falls in Manhole wnats to sue. Sorry chick, you were negligent, had you not been texting at the time of fall, you may have had a case.
Get a Clue and P.S.
LOOK UP


I got All A's in my english Classes...
This was my Professor


and I had a front row seat for the Pec Showe... Monday, Wednesday and Friday 8:10-9am.

I'm in love with this shoe/boot




I think This commerical is HILARIOUS





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Let's get the rhythm of the head... ding, dong

There comes a time in everyone’s life when they realize they were perhaps a bit inappropriate as an adolescent. The time has come for me. I was sitting on the train watching these kids nasty grind and thinking boy I would beat the mess out of my son if he had some girl sitting on his lap with his tongue stuck down her throat like that. Then it dawned on me.
I’m sure his/her parents have said the same thing and children of course operate by the what your parents don’t know won’t hurt them right?

This led to me thinking about things I did in my youth, mainly the games I’d play that would have surely guaranteed an immediate ASS WHOOPING followed by my enrollment in some convent.

Here are some games I played:

7/11- it’s like tag but if you get caught, you get 7 kisses and 11 humps (the most disturbing part about this is that I remember playing this game in grades 4-6)

Truth or dare: No good ever comes of this game.

7 minutes in heaven/in the closet

Strip (I declare war, spit, pretty much any card game)

Suck and Blow

Are you Nervous: if your were a boy, a girl would put her hand on your stomach and ask you are you nervous, if you answer no, she’d inch her way down until you were. The boy would go up the girl’s shirt until she got nervous. If he reached he bra without inspiring anxiety, he’d go under her bra and cup her breast. If this still didn’t make the slut young lady nervous then he began going down her pants.

Of course you can’t leave out a classic like “House”

Then I got to thinking about the way we females chose “it” during the clean games of tag. Everyone put your foot in the circle Sure you all remember the nice kid friendly “bubblegum bubblegum in a dish how many pieces do you wish” But don’t forget this “Dig Dig Dog Shit you are not IT.” <----remember that if you think your 10 year old doesn’t curse.

Well I know I’m not the only one to partake in such activities… Which ones did you play?




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Let's Talk About Sex

3 letters makes it one tiny word. I said it is one of the most complicated words. I was wrong. It isn't. Sex is simple. You take 2 people, some penetration (or not) and boom. There you have it. Sex. You blink and you may have missed it.

Sex gets the reputation of being complex from those involved. Sex CHANGES NOTHING.
The person you are when you laid down to have sex is the person you are when you've finished (minus a few calories if you're doing it right). It is an act. It means nothing and yet somehow people think it means everything.
Sex is purely biological. It is instinctive
Sex does not confer relationship rights or status. Sex does not boost your self esteem. Sex does not create emotional feelings. Sex satisfies our most carnal desires.
Sex is a verb. A word. Too often women mistake sex for love or like.
Let me say this. A man does not need to LOVE you to have sex with you. He doesn't even need to like you. He just needs to be turned on (I was going to say physically attracted to you but that's not even the case). He just needs to have an erection. When your sex organs meet he is not now your boyfriend. He does not have to call you, he does not have to ask you how your day is when you come home from work, he does not have to spend time with you when he's free.
You of course had sex with him thinking that somehow even though he has shown you no attention that your vagina can do something your personality can not. News flash, if he does call back, he's only staying on good terms with the owner of his dick satisfier. He's only going to put in a minimal effort in order to have continued access to your female sex organ, not you, your vagina, NOT you, your VAGINA.

Have sex. Have lots of it, have some for me while you're at it, but DO not have sex thinking sex means more than it is. When two people who love each other have sex, is it not the same act when 2 strangers have sex. It only means more to the couple in love because prior to the act itself they have expressed a mutual love of each other which is reflected in the intimacy shared during their sexual act. Sex = Sex. Sex does not complicate things, miscommunication, and denial complicates things.


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"Free to Go"

She planted both hands on each side of the tub and pulled herself out the water. She knew she shouldn't have taken a bath, the doctors told her she could get an infection but she didn't care. She wanted to drown the pain, the memories, the empty smiles and broken promises. She stepped out the rose colored water onto the bare floor and stared at herself in the mirror. Is this is it? She said aloud, to noone in particular but to everyone present in the room, herself, her thoughts, her dead fetus and God. Just a few weeks ago, she was planning her future as a mother.
She could hear the laughter, the baby talk, the tears but most of all she could hear her new name "mommy". She was esctatic. All that changed when she told him the good news. "I thought you kept us protected" he lamented. How could you betray me? He said. What? Did you think I would seriously want someone Like YOU to have my first born? She didn't care, she was going to have this baby. She thought finally he's come around when he came over that day, brought her food, kissed her feet and apologized. "Here baby, you have to take your vitamins, you should have started weeks ago when you first realized. We don't want the baby to miss any crucial developments."
She vomited at the remembrance of that day.
A few hours later he produced another vitamin, telling her it must have stayed in his pocket when he took out the others. She was more than happy to swallow them for their baby. She began spilling her guts about future plans for the baby's room and names she picked out. If it were a boy he'd be a junior. Just like his daddy. If it were a girl, well she didn't really want a girl, she wanted to bear him his first son.
As she stood in the mirror, she grimaced at remembering all the signs. He kept looking at his watch, finally he said I have to go. Her stomach started hurting, she thought this was a normal part of pregnancy. She felt a little nauseaus but mostly she felt like she had to shit. She went to the bathroom and just sat on the toilet. She didn't want to strain herself so she just sat patiently until she heard the first plop. And then the second, but it didn't seem right, it wasn't coming out the right end. She grabbed an handful of tissue praying it wasn't what she thought and wiped herself. The tisse was soaked in blood. Her heart dropped. Frantically she turned around to the toilet and saw two massive clots of blood and tissue in the toilet. She screamed in horror, ran to her room to call him but his phone went straight to voicemail. "I think I'm having a misccarriage, please call me, I think I need to go to a hospital". Again she tried calling him and again her call went straight to voicemail. She hung up and called 911. All she could manage to say before she passed out was that she was bleeding heavily and she was pregnant.

She woke up in a hospital bed with tubes and needles going in and out her arm. She turned her head to see her mother, grandmother and brother sleeping on the couches around the bed. Her father walked back in with coffee. They locked eyes as he ran to her side, waking the others. They were so happy to see her awake. Her mother kissed her on the cheek and stepped away. You're lucky babysis, her brother had said. If you hadn't managed to get to the phone you may not have made it.

Her doctor walked in. Good morning maam. How are we? Still in shock at waking up in this strange place, she asked what happened and is the baby ok. Everyone around her looked at her is dismay. "You know very well that baby is dead" her grandmother said before she was ushered out the room. Her eyes went big, "what does she mean?" she asked between sobs. The doctor turned to her and said, you were brought in to the hospital yesterday afternoon. The dosage of RU-486 you ingested was too high. You lost a lot of blood. What the hell was RU-486? she thought. The doctor, registering her confusion continued, your doctor should have explained to you the procedure as well as the risks involved in taking the abortion pill. "Abortion, no I wanted this baby, what do you mean abortion pill" and then she remembered him coming over. Overtaken with grief and betrayal she just layed her head back on her pillow and cried. Her brother ran to her. They were always so close. "You didn't do this to yourself?" He asked with quiet rage in his eyes. She shook her head no. He left the room with the doctor. Her parents were staring in disbelief. The doctor came back.
Maam, your were approximately 11 weeks pregnant. You were not a good candidate for the RU-486 pill. We had to perform a D & C to remove the rest of the fetus from your uterus. We've contacted your doctor to ask your medical history and to verify that you received the pills from him, he told us you had only receieved your prenatal pills. It looks like you were planning on keeping this baby. Someone wasn't. We've contacted the authorities but there isn't much that will be done in the way of prosecuting the person responsible. I'm really sorry maam. We'd like to keep you one more day to make sure you're okay, after that, you're free to go.



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Getting to Know You

So I pretty much was just sitting here, looking at my computer screen at all the avatars and monikers and well I just pretty much want to know why you all chose the names, pictures, blog titles that you chose.

I'll start, i think most of mine are pretty obvious.

My name is Kingsmomma (@kingsmomma for all you folk who speak twitterese).
I chose that name because my son's name is Kingston and well I'm his momma. I thought Momma was funny. I don't know why but I just did. I'm quriky like that.

I chose the Fabulous Matriarch does Life because I most certainly think I'm fabulous but I wanted to emphasis my role as a mother because that is my number one role in life. It is the most important thing to me and has effected me on numerous levels and has changed who I am as a person. Each day as I navigate through life I am faced with choices and my decisions are largely a result of motherhood.

my avatar (and i suppose its time for a change
is the crying avatar, I posted about it here
but I chose that particular picture b/c
first: I wanted to remain anonymous (lmao @ that right)
secondly: I was in pain but could no longer cry tears. My pic cried for me.

So there you have it. That's me.

Who and why are you?


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Still Grinds My Gears

1. Unless your name is Mr. Ed or you have no hands there is no reason you ought to yawn without covering your mouth. Your neighbors shouldn't be held hostage to your carbon dioxide emissions simply because you're lazy or have no damn manners. Cover that shit yo.

2. "Ooh your breath stinks, smelling like some thunder, what you looking at ion't want yo phone number"
When people pull the you aint shit after they broke up with you or got shot down by you. Put an s on your chest and handle that shit. We're too old. My squats are doing me justice, don't pull the "well you got a flat ass anyway" boo you're just bitter and we know what chante moore said about that.

3. "The I know I'm fat and I know you see I'm fat but if I bring it up first it makes it less obvious" statements. It doesn't make it less obvious, in fact it calls attention to your least flattering traits. If we're standing together, clearly my eyes can see your physical make up, I've already noted that and am now paying closer attention to what you have to say. You're ruining your own personailty. Where I amy have once saw a confident person, I now see an insecure being who wants to be coddled. My facial expressions are too honest. Couple those statements with the need to say things like "I should be working out" (yes you should) "I hate shopping they never have anything in my size, I wish I could go down 2 sizes" (and you could spare to go down 2 sizes) "I need to lose some weight" (and you should but u won't).

4."Nice tat. Did it hurt?"
"I felt it"
What the fuck does that mean? I never get this answer from women, its only men who take it upon themselves to edit the question so they may give their own answer. I didn't ask if you cried,I simply ask did it hurt. Is it unmanly to feel pain? Telling me you felt something means absolutely nothing.
Take the following sentence: I felt a bug crawling on my leg. That in no way connotates any level of pain or discomfort. I am simply relaying to the listener that my senses alerted me to the intrusion of a bug on my person. It does not mean it hurt, it does not mean it tickled, it simply means I was aware of the bug's presence on my leg. Now when I got my tattoo I felt it AND it hurt.

5. Name tattoos
When you exited the confines of the womb, you were no longer baby girl/boy____, you now had a name. The nurses came in said, ohh what's the baby's name. Your mom answered. She repeated this ritual millions of times. You grow up, you know your name, you get involved your boyfriend knows your name, you know his name. At this point you decide to tattoo your name on your arm/neck/leg/thigh/wrist. Why? I just explained you know your own name as I'm sure everyone around you does. Perhaps you think you have early onset althimezers? Even worse is a male who tattoos his name or his son's name on his body. Either we're going to assume its your name and call you that or we will assume it your partner's name. (Ok so its not a name tattoo but it also really irks me when women tattoo their bicep area. You ARE going to gain weight in that area at some point. That is thee most disgusting tattoo ever. The sad thing is I said you will gain weight in that area, I've NEVER seen a slim person with that tattoo. Tattoo artists should be fined for issuing those.)

6. Stall conversation
I know women go to bathroom in groups but that doesn't mean we talk. We don't...At least I don't. My urine is shy and therefore doesn't allow me to converse with you as it is exiting my urethra. So don't try. There really isnt anything that pressing that needs to be discussed at that point in time either.

7. Weebly wobblys
Women who wear heels that they can not walk in. I know that not all women know how to walk in heels, hell I had been there. Here's the problem, don't use my morning commute to practice. You're teetering down the steps one agonizing footstep at a time and I'm stuck behind you and therefore miss my train bc you're too damn slow. Put some flats on and practice in your house, office or lunch break. Yes a woman in heels is sexy, but a staggering, ooch ouch my foot hurts woman in stilettos is

8. Gladiator sandals. Its not that I don't think they look bad on every foot, its just that I've seen wayyyy more bad than good and add an ill fitting sandal to a rough looking foot and the mere mention of that shit would grind your gears too.

9.Appointments
An appointment is defined as:
1. a fixed mutual agreement for a meeting; engagement: 2. a meeting set for a specific time or place.
The key words in the definition are "fixed" and "specific"
I have hair, doctors, and dentist appointments. I've shown up at the suggested time, they're never ready. The most messed up part is the fact that most doctors offices have adapted the 15 minute tardiness rule meaning if you're more than 15 minutes late, your appointment iis cancelled and if the appointment is cancelled you're seen as a no show which equates in a no show fee. That would be great if the doctors were on time. I get there on time, do I now get to assess you a waiting fee?

10. Arm fur : get that shit waxed or something. I hate standing in an elevator or on a train and I get bumped by the teen wolf. It itches me and it looks nasty. Take care of that.


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Incomplete Overdose

Opened the cap and spilled its contents into my hand
Wiped my tears, inhaled my fears and swallowed the pills
Each capsule, one by one, tickling my esophogas
The case dissolving away exposing the true culprits, betrayal, pain, resentment
Shoved the next batch in my mouth but my throat betrays my desires,
Turning to Jack, the only man I trust these days,
Swig after swig, I can finally swallow the lonliness and despair
Did I mention I really love jack?
So much so that I yearn for his reintroduction, and my stomach agrees, forcing me to come face to face with Jack but he's not alone
He is the intervention coordinator, forcing me to grieve.
Lonliness and pain shake my hand and despair pats my back telling me its irie. Resentment wipes my tears and betrayal, the boldest one just stares.
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Playing in WHOSE hair?

"Just call Atisha your beautician
I promise it will be just fine
In two or three or hours
You’ll be smilin’
She gon’ get that hair bone straight
And even though I got it all tangled
I know you like the love we make"


I know everyone was excited when this song came out. Women were saying yeah boo you can play in my hair as long as you pay to get it done again.
Not I.
It's not about the money. Dream said in 2-3 hours you'll be smiling. I'm not exactly sure who his muse was but one thing's for certain, I've never been in and out a hair salon in 3 hours. I have yet to experience that earth shattering deek that allows me to forget the 6 hours I just spent getting my hair done.
So no sir you can not sweat it out any ole day. Your limited to the 4 days before my next appointment.

Or if I get caught in the rain.


Oh yeah, Mr. Teruis Nash,
I know you write a lot for females so you may just get confused from time to time but men wear chains, women wear necklaces.


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"America reigns without a rival"

While you're stuffing your face, sitting under the stars and watching/taking part in celebrations that commemorate the day our forefathers declared their Independence (and Bill Pullman gave his moving speech to motivate the soldiers to defeat the aliens who wanted to annihilate Earth), Do NOT forget the words of Frederick Douglas



“What, to the American slave, is your Fourth of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass-fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy-a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States at this very hour.

Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms- of the Old World, travel through South America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival.”


The rest of the Speech is here


Let Freedom Ring

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CFM

As she laid her outfit on the bed, she looked toward her shoe closet. "All those shoes, how the hell am I going to pick out the perfect ones for tonight?"
Then it hit her, she'd wear the black pumps with the steel heel. Simple, understated yet naughty she thought with a smirk as she sashayed toward the closet. Her shoulders glistened with each sway from the light reflecting off the beads of water still pooling from her shower earlier.


She stood on her tippy toes and reached for the shoe box. Her hand extended into the air, she pulled back, hit with a wave of nostalgia, she retreated to the chaise lounge chair in the middle of the room. She unfastened her silk kimono bathrobe exposing her oiled caramel skin and sat, legs folded under her, alone with her memories. She allowed her fingertips to graze her inner thighs as she remembered the last time she'd she chose those shoes.

She wore them to meet him. They went to the opera that night and as they walked home from the theatre, it began pouring. There was no rain in the forecast so neither was prepared for the sudden downpour of torrential rain. Her long athletic stride matched his, step for step, they were gracefully in unison as though they had practiced this dance before.
As they got closer to his building, he stopped, she turned back: "babe, did you forget something?" She asked as the rain continued to soak her shoulder length curls. He stood there, just watching her, the dress clinging to her breast, so skillfully draped across her hips. There is no better tailor than Mother Nature he thought as he eyed her lustfully. He walked towards her, taking her hand into his and wrapping his arm around her waist. Slow, quick, quick slow he thought to himself as he rehashed his newly acquired dance moves in his mind. She moved in closer to him. "My God I love this man" she whispered to herself and laid her head on his wet chest and matched his rhythm. "I could stand here with you forever" he said in her ear before he began showering her earlobe and neck with kisses. He ran his left hand down her back to her butt where he allowed his hand to rest and draped his other arm around her shoulders, leading her into the building lobby.

They stood together waiting on the elevator, 4, 3,2, L. he stepped into the elevator first, back against the wall, she followed, pressing 3 before she stood in front of him with her butt brushing on the crotch of his pants. She knew he liked when she teased him. He reached down and kissed her neck. One quick peck. Then a slow tongue kiss ending with him biting down on her neck sending pulses throughout her body. She squeezed her legs together to allow the moment to linger before the elevator door opened for them. She stepped off first knowing he had full view of her she strode confidently down the long corridor, stopping midway. She knew he was watching her so she swayed to the left. Her hands now tracing the form he was so entranced with earlier. She caressed her hips as she moved both hands to her right side, unzipping her zipper and began walking forward. With every footstep she took, she could hear his footsteps. She stopped, turned towards him and began walking backwards, slowly brushing her hands on her neck, cupping her bosom still prisoner to her dress, all the while locking eyes with him. Her skin was burning and she needed his touch to extinguish the flames.

She stopped at his door, still caressing her body. He seemed to sense her urgency and began to slow down. Teasing her with his eyes, licking his lips, exposing his intentions. He shoved his left hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. Finally, he’s standing in front of her. His forearm brushes her stomach and she moans. He pulls back and repeats this motion. He’s teasing her and yet he’s teasing himself. As he reaches to put the key in the door, she grabs his hand and guides the key to its proper place, turning the key, unlocking the door and her passion. Click. She moves his hand to the hem of her dress about 3 inches above her knee. Following her lead, he pulls the dress up and massages her through her stocking and underwear. He can feel her vagina pulsating. He picks her up and walks through the door, dropping his keys on the floor and kicking his shoes off with each step.

Eight steps later he is standing to the right of the breakfast bar where he sits her. He pulls her dress off and throws it behind him. He squats down to her shoes, caresses the top part of her foot while holding the bottom of her shoe in his hand. Gently, he slides the shoe off and kisses the top of her soaked stockinged foot. He repeats this ritual for the other foot. With one hand on her ankle, he runs his hand up the inside of her leg pushing them further apart all the while relishing in her audible sounds of content. He reaches up to the top of her stocking, one hand bracing her back and pulls her stockings down. She squirms around to assist him. He stands up in front of her and she wraps her legs around his waist and fiddles with his belt buckle. He kisses her on the forehead, cheek and neck and reaches around to unclasp her bra. Her full D cups spring forward from their confined spaces.

She finally manages to concentrate on his belt long enough to unbuckle it. She uses her feet to push his pants down while using her hands to expose his muscular chest and those sprinkles of chest hairs she finds so irresistible.
She uses her legs to pull him closer to her and she can feel his manhood through his boxer briefs. “Oh Now that’s a Keeper” she whispers to him as she fondles his penis. She pulls his rock hard member out of his cage and begins stroking it, up and down slowly but firmly, concentrating her energy around the crown.

Never one to be outdone, he slides her thong aside and looks her in the eye. “That’s what you do to me” she said in response to the look of surprise at finding her sopping wet. He plunges his middle finger in her love box and lets out a moan. “You’re so soft and warm” he says as he now adds another finger to the action and grabbing her butt to keep her from moving away.

She stops him, pulls his hands from between her legs and begin to suck his fingers while looking into his eyes. She can tell he’s excited. “Take off your wedding ring” she commands, and he obliges after ripping her thong off. He pulls her closer to the edge of the bar and begins sucking her nipples and rubbing her clit. She throws her head back and moans loudly. He begins moving his kisses south, kissing her navel, her pelvis and finally her thighs and knees. He begins to ascend towards her vagina showing love to each part of her inner thigh as he moves. He pushes her legs open further and sucks on her clitoris. Immediately, her legs clench shut and he opens her legs again, then stands up and whispers in her ear “if you can’t keep them open, I’ll have to tie them that way”. Not even waiting on a response he lowers himself and begins to work his magic. He put his full lips on top of her and began to suck hard while tonguing her little boat.

As she tries to slid away, his hand is there to keep pushing her into the action. She is overcome with pleasure and allows herself to succumb to the feeling. Licking her lips, she opens her eyes to see his hand in the air with his index finger pointed signaling “1”.


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