WARNING: SUPER LONG BLOG, BUT HONEST & INSIGHTFUL!!!!
Ignorance is bliss. It is also the gateway for you to get Punk’d. For Ashton, prior to allegations of his cheating on Demi, and his entire camera crew to walk right into your relationship and rob you of any stability that you once thought you had. Except for this time, Ashton is dressed in 4 inch heels, rocking a Prada dress so short she could catch pneumonia in her good-goods, while sexting the person you said “I love you” to 5 minutes ago or “I do” to 24 hours ago…and her name is Ashley, or Kendra, or Stephony, Latrell, Keisha, Tanisha, Tabitha, a low-life hoe named Angel, Bootasia…..etc. You catch my drift. For this blog, the aforementioned home wreckers shall be called OWs (Other Women). All OWs are assumed innocent until proven hoochies.
The odds of your man cheating on you are about as high of a possibility as him enjoying himself as he “exfoiliates” his genital region in the shower each morning. With such a high possibility, the probability of this happening lowers by the set of morals that your man has, how many fugly women are in your community, and how ugly your man is to the beautiful women in the community. The stakes are raised,however, by the number of desperate women there are, your man’s income (despite how unattractive he is), and any rumors that may be in circulation about his sexual accomplishments. Since the latter scenario is higher than the prior…toss in a bitter black woman &, honey….. your man might cheat.
But what is cheating to you? To the insecure broad, cheating could be him turning his head in the direction of a beautiful woman as she sashays by her man in the mall. To the “I don’t need a man, but be happy that I chose you” woman, cheating may be him assisting a woman with her grocery bags to the car…I mean after all, his hands were free since his woman chose to do it all herself. To the average woman, cheating could be him sharing himself emotionally with another female, showing a side of himself that he has never shown to her. But to every woman….cheating also means any form of sexual contact or interaction with a woman other than the one who claims you ( on or off the record). Wow…. each scenario is like Melanie’s & Derwin’s entire relationship on The Game.
Note to the fellas: If we slept together…. we go together!
My advice to all of the above are as follows:
Dear Insecure Broad, what the hell is wrong with you? She is beautiful, yes. But the turning of your man’s head does NOT, I repeat to the self-esteem challenged, does NOT equate to infidelity. It lets you know that all of your man’s man parts are working. And if you thought she was cute, and he thought she was cute too, then damn… y’all agree on something. Which means, if you think that you are cute + she was cute + he thought she was cute then that may = him thinking that you are cute too. Instead of jumping on the dude and starting to count his condoms ( please tell me you use condoms!!!) take this as an opportunity to eavesdrop on what it is that catches your man’s attention. But do NOT take this as an opportunity to alter your physical or personal style to match, just take inventory, and store it for that special moment; almost like a treat. Of course, there is an exception, if your guy turns his head and forgets to turn it back in your direction… then you have reason to think that he is disrespectful, but until then… chill like Jada does when Will checks out beautiful women. She’s not trippin…because he isn’t going ANYWHERE!
Dear Next Millenium Bionic Woman, why are you even with a man if there is nothing that he can do for you? There is a thin line in being independent and competent and being borderline butch. Unless your name is Craig and his is Earl, there is only ONE penis in this relationship…allow his to hang, have some breathing room to sway, and do what it is that he was designed to do. Yes, men should love strong women…I get that, but if you are too strong they may be tempted to check for an Adam’s apple or flee. Just chill….you and I both know that women can do any and everything that we want to do, the catch is to not let HIM know that, or remind him all the damn time. This will definitely turn a seemingly innocent act of chivalry ( assisting with groceries) into a weekly rendezvous in the produce aisle. Your man assisting another woman should get you hot… not hot-headed but…turned on, just because you know that every woman wants a man like yours. Dont be so strong that you assist in giving him a hand in jumping over the fence to greener pastures, nor get so laid-back that you turn in to chick from #1. Think…. Charlize Theron in Hancock!
Dear Average Woman, Men are not emotional creatures…….to us. They cry in the dark and throw their feelings into the very same closets that R Kelly hides his midget porn. Get over it. They still have feelings, and just be thankful that he has found a healthy person to share his emotions with. Trust me, I know that it hurts like hell because you want to be there to share everything with him… but as long as she only gives him a shoulder to lean on to express himself, then baby..yeh I’ll say it again….get over it. It doesn’t mean that he is cheating, it just means that you have YET to learn this side of him. There are things you tell your girlfriends that you don’t tell him…. TRUST ME. I know for a fact that you didn’t tell your man your thoughts about the size of the strippers’ worthy of mentioning unmentionables from Asia’s bachelorette party. So, as long as he is still communicating with you, just let that be his safe haven until he is on his death-bed and reveals that he absolutely hates your cooking but loves you for the attempt. You mustn’t also forget the billions of times he tried to tell you the truth, you didn’t listen and swore he was lying anyway…. that, too, may be the reason he doesn’t tell you -ish.Just saying…. don’t shoot the OW, learn how to listen.
Girl…. WHat?! That N!&&@ did what?!!!!Cheated with an OW?!*sharpens Cutco, puts on Vaseline, *Hair in pony tail. Puts on CSI crime scene, able to catch my DNA, approved vest and grabs Lorraina Bobbet Emergency Kit. Next.
I know for a fact that there are several more scenarios, but I havent gotten to that portion of my therapy sessions yet, so these will have to do. And I know you are wondering how do I know these things… well… I was once …well… the enemy. Yes, I was once an OW. Much to my defense, not that I need any because I know how to fight… & WELL…. ask about me. Dang, where was I? Oh, yeh…. much to my defense, I didn’t even know that I was the OW ( The Fantasia Defense). So I learned several tricks of the trade from being on the other side of the fence. If nothing more I learned:
UNLESS THE OW IS A FAMILY MEMBER< BEST FRIEND<THIRD COUSIN TWICE REMOVED BY MARRIAGE ON YOUR PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER’S SIDE……. DONT YOU EVER TAKE YOUR DRAMA TO THE DOORSTEP OF THE OW!!!!!!
Unless she comes to your doorstep bringing the pain…. you keep within restraining order distance away from her. There are several reasons:
1. You are NOT sleeping with the OW. She didn’t break your heart, break any vows, or directly give you an STD. She may not have even known you existed.
2. Fussing with the OW gets your man off the hook. He learns NOTHING. Actually, he is banking on telling you that she has lost her mind and is just a groupie, and that he told her several times to stop calling him. STOP… wait a minute… how did she even get his number? And “I DONT KNOW” does not suffice as an answer. (Exception to the rule: There are some crazy females out there.. trust in your man , your relationship, and your inner female intuition to see if this number actually applies to you. If by chance she is crazy, collect $200 for bail money, go past GO & I give you permission to whoop that trick!)
3. Fighting with her makes you come up out the pocket and let both her and him know that you are now hurt. This is war woman, you don’t let the enemy know you are coming. SHUT UP AND PLAY THE WAY BIG MAMA TAUGHT YOU HOW TO PLAY; tight thighs , and even tighter lips with clenched fists.
4. You need to be a big girl and face what is really going on. Beating up some random chick Jerry Springer style will only make you feel better momentarily.
All of this to say…. you have to think like us. And as a smart OW…I held on to evidence from 2004! Real talk, I have Yahoo! Messenger conversations still on floppy disk….lmbo!!!! There’s nothing like a swift Facebook note containing evidence of something he once said in a playerlistic manner to ruin his whole damn day! lol. Sorry, that got funny as I had a flash back. Keep us close, meaning us OWs. It’s when you can’t see us that we are able to do the most damage. I can say this now as a looooooooong ago reformed OW. It is never my intent to be an OW, but should the situation arise… you respect me and I shall respect you. Hell… I’ll even help you torch the cheating son of biscuit eating bulldog. But it is when you disrespect me ( assuming that I’ve been respectful) that your cards will come crashing down faster than you can get the panties off of Montana Fishburne, My cousin, and Paris Hilton in a panty dropping contest. Believe me, my cousin is FAST, my money is on her! Again, you ladies would NOT believe the things that your guy tells us, in efforts to make us think that he is single, the marriage isn’t working, you’ve changed, and the list goes on. For example (actual messages below from a guy not too long after he got married. The identity of the stupid has been changed to protect the innocent):
4:16:29 PMStupid Dude###336: i had just looked at your profile before i went to sleep (why is this guy who is married stalking my profile before he went to sleep?)
4:24:13 PMStupid Dude###336: i know I am married and I have a good woman by my side… 4:24:55 PMStupid Dude###336: but I had a great woman when I was with you and I miss my great woman
4:27:25 PMStupid Dude###336: i’m happy with what I have here but I always will wonder what if (then if you are happy…. why are you always trying to get me into romantic conversations? I’m not falling for it playa! My game is stronger than yours, besides… I’ve moved on & let you go a long time ago)
4:29:06 PMStupid Dude###336: i understand that you let go 4:29:16 PMStupid Dude###336: but dammit it’s not easy to let go 4:29:27 PMStupid Dude###336: i try and try but i can’t (well try a little harder buddy…b/c it ant happening here!)
Yadda yadda yadda. We discuss how he has a history of not really being faithful. How he treats women, and I congratulate him on finally settling down & getting married. The conversation then goes:
4:30:17 PMMe: but I applaud [her] for being that woman who finally got you to do it 4:30:35 PMStupid Dude###336: she didn’t get me to do it 4:30:51 PMMe: no, meaning that she loved you to a point where you felt the need to do it 4:31:13 PMStupid Dude###336: lol…you don’t understand
4:31:33 PMStupid Dude###336: i felt that I would never get you back… and I…..SETTLED
Yes, you read correctly. The negro said he settled with his wife. But nothing beats my favorite! My friend told me that a guy once told her that the only reason he married his wife was because he “ran out of rope”! lmao!He was an older gentleman and didn’t want to waste two more years getting into another relationship and he didn’t want to be an old father, so he married his current girlfriend even though he didn’t love her. But I digress. I continue to go on to say how foul he is, this isn’t right, she doesn’t deserve this, the nerve of this nigga [pardon my Ebonics]!!!!! etc. I mean, did he really think that saying this about his NEW wife was going to make me drop all common sense and take him back? I mean really, if you would say this about your wife….what they hell do you say behind my back about me? But as I said, you would be amazed at what they tell us….continue….
4:36:05 PMStupid Dude###336: So in saying that ,I am glad I settled because it took for me to settle to realize what a good woman I have…
4:37:19 PMStupid Dude###336: I don’t treat her like i used to, i try to do everything [in] my power to show her on a daily basis that I love her, but in the back of my mind I always wonder what if
So you see, from what I posted, and from what I REFUSE to post…. we hear it all. And this is the PG stuff that I can post. I never wanted him back after seeing how he still treated women, but that didn’t keep him from trying to turn me into an OW. Even if I didn’t know that the other girl existed… I highly doubt that I would have dated this person again. Just something about him rings “lie”. OWs become the other person because the guy feels that he is missing out on something. He gets greedy, or gets scared of commitment and he freaks out and goes in search of an OW. He said everything above, I don’t have the power in me as an OW to make him say this…..much like you don’t have the power to keep him around if he doesn’t want to stay. You have to look out for you…because that is EXACTLY what an OW and your man are doing. Why should you be the only one not being taken care of? But I digress…back to the advice.
Outside of the obvious, don’t tell your woes to an OW. A reformed OW will tell you to think it out on your own, dig inside your heart and think about what is best for you and your future…. a triffling OW will prompt you to unlock the door so she can help you pack your ish as she cases out how her earring collection will look beautiful on the bedroom dresser. To be honest, I wouldn’t even tell my friends how bad my relationship had gotten unless my husband was OJ, Manson, or George W Bush. There are some things, ladies, that you need to learn to keep to yourself. Because you never know who you could be helping to creep all up and through your situation. An OW doesnt need any additional help, because he’s quick to tell us what it is that you don’t do:
5:08:20 PMStupid Dude###336: i actually sat there last nite and tried to find [what i liked in you ,in her] but y’all are 2 totally different people 5:08:42 PMMe: you can go play basketball with her, watch sports, go to the club, crack jokes, make nicknames…I don’t do anything special 5:09:28 PMStupid Dude###336: she doesn’t play basketball, she doesn’t club, and she doesn’t watch sports for real 5:10:38 PMMe: I don’t play basketball..I don’t club, and I dont watch sports for real.. you see how much in common we have 5:11:04 PMStupid Dude###336: we did all of that…lol 5:11:30 PMMe: hahahaha… I dont have any basketball skills…lol. that was pretend 5:11:35 PMMe: I am sure she can do better than me 5:12:02 PMStupid Dude###336: that’s not the point…you got out there and you played ball with me
And even faster at telling us how much he dreams about us:
5:25:19 PMStupid Dude###336: we started kissing and you were unbuttoning my shirt and a nigga woke up 5:25:38 PMMe: lol 5:25:48 PMStupid Dude###336: I remember all that cause [wife’s name] said I was moaning in my sleep 5:25:57 PMMe: wow!!!!! 5:26:12 PMMe: now watch me get blamed for that mess
And even when the OW stays in her place, reminds him of what they really are and that nothing more can happen… the man will try reverse psychology:
6:27:24 PMMe: any time , friend 6:27:37 PMStupid Dude###336: i don’t even want that title 6:27:46 PMMe: why, friend? 6:27:55 PMStupid Dude###336: i come at you like you are doing wrong but you aren’t 6:28:19 PMStupid Dude###336: i try to make it seem like all i want is a friend when i know that all I want is you 6:28:24 PMStupid Dude###336: by my side 6:28:31 PMStupid Dude###336: i’m sorry 6:28:34 PMMe: friend, I can stand beside you 6:28:43 PMStupid Dude###336: stop calling me that 6:28:49 PMMe: and apology accepted for your confusing yourself 6:29:12 PMMe: and I will think about [if I will] stop calling you my friend 6:29:32 PMMe: but i have to say it so I can stay in my place, to stay where I need to be 6:29:55 PMStupid Dude###336: well maybe that’s not where you need to be 6:29:56 PMMe: to remain safe in these dangerous conversations that we keep having, which is so not fair to anyone involved 6:30:07 PMStupid Dude###336: true
And when he saw that I wasnt budging…. he went back in for the kill. The ” I will tell you how horrible my situation is, even if it really isnt, just so that you can change your mind and do what I want you to do” move. Yes… I call this the “Extra Desperate To Think I’m This Dumb” Tactic:
6:45:59 PM Stupid Dude###336: you have accomplishments…i have a marriage license that don’t mean shit
6:46:08 PM Me: why doesnt it mean shit
6:46:14 PM Me: it is a marriage license.
6:46:37 PM Stupid Dude###336: because the marriage isn’t shit…we don’t do shit for real
6:46:46 PM Stupid Dude###336: you have accomplishments i don’t
6:47:04 PM Me: I have accomplishments because I refuse to SETTLE!!!!!
6:47:08 PM Stupid Dude###336: I won’t be able to have a family
6:47:17 PM Stupid Dude###336: just a wife
6:48:03 PM Stupid Dude###336: you will have your accomplishments, your husband, and a family…
6:48:13 PM Stupid Dude###336: you say you won’t but i believe you will
Zinger……3 hours later….he just nailed his own coffin….all in hopes of having an OW by his side. He could be lying through his teeth, and very well may have been…..but either way, his words have consequences. I consider this desperate. I know he doesn’t respect his wife…..and he damn sure doesn’t respect me. But this is nothing unusual in the life of an OW. They will stop at NOTHING to try to get us. Some fall for this, the rest of us…. we don’t. But the smart ones keep the evidence for sour, bitter days like today. When you get tired of holding on to someone else’s dirty laundry and you finally decide for them to wash their own emotional shit!
And I am not innocent in all of this. I said some things here or there that I probably shouldn’t have. But before every conversation was concluded, like this excerpt from another conversation, I let him know how cool I really was with his wife and why nothing could ever go down. Yes,I’m cool with the wife…..dont ask, long story, out of the ordinary, but the girl is mad cool. So I once said to him, (and this is speaking from truth)
5:11:21 PM Me: You would flinch if you knew the number of times that I have plotted to get you away from [wife] and then had to pray for forgiveness because it was only out of jealousy to the fact that she had something that I didnt
5:11:34 PM Me: dude… you better be Glad the Lord is always talking to me
5:11:35 PM Me: lol
5:12:05 PM Stupid Dude###336: You would flinch if you knew the number of times that I have wanted you to get you away from [wife]
5:12:30 PM Me: you wanted me to get away from [wife], or you to get away from [wife]?
5:12:52 PM Stupid Dude###336: i wanted you
5:13:26 PM Me: nah, I wouldn’t flinch… you said it.. the truth of the matter is I didnt believe it because you werent bold nor stupid enough to take measures to follow through with it
5:13:39 PM Me: and the funny thing is.. I am too cool with [wife] to even let you do it.
5:13:47 PM Stupid Dude###336: i hear ya….
5:14:34 PM Me: I dont think that she talks about me behind my back, but I wouldnt be surprised because she has every reason to do so… I’m your ex….but I still will never do anything from my side to give her [reason] to
5:53:17 PM Stupid Dude###336: i mean when you say that you wish you never married me then how do you expect that i would feel?
5:53:36 PM Me: ouch
5:53:42 PM Me: that is between you… and her
5:54:18 PM Me: I want to steer as far away from that conversation as humanly possible.. for soooooo many reasons
5:55:26 PM Me: bathroom break..brb
5:56:12 PM Stupid Dude###336: if u get mad at me for talking fly to other females but then you talking waaay more fly to other guys and even after we got married then what….
5:58:47 PM Me: again
5:58:56 PM Me: I am staying faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar away from that conversation
5:59:03 PM Stupid Dude###336: lol…my bad
5:59:29 PM Me: I am not touching that one with a ten foot pole…… just not gonna do it
As you can see, my advice comes from a collage of personal experiences from different relationships and from watching other friends become OWs knowingly or unknowingly. Either way, I sympathize with any woman in a relationship. There is a lure about an OW that keeps the man interested, that keeps his inner hunter wondering if he can capture a woman, and the thrill of the chase and not getting caught. Oddly enough, it doesn’t mean that he loves you any less, it just means that he doesn’t love himself enough to know that working with one great woman is better than having two who hate you. I didn’t invent the game, but several years ago I learned how to play it, and got out before I got burned. I was the main woman trying to keep all of the OWs away and failed miserably, and then he turned around and tried to make me the OW. I wouldn’t let it happen, kept him in the friend zone. But other guys have made me the OW by omitting that they are already in relationships and then me finding out from Myspace, Facebook, or email, or the good old fashion female calling my house cussing me out. So I thought that I would share this with women who are in relationships…..you have to think like your enemy…..that is the only way you will ever win. Pride aside, the best woman doesn’t always win. Sometimes, losing, as in losing your relationship… could be the best thing to ever happen to you, and you will have an OW to thank.
My intention is not to shock, hurt, damage or destroy any relationship. This is my blog and I write what I want to write as a part of my therapy… and this just happened to be the topic of the day. So don’t blame me if any of these issues show up in your current situation… I AM NOT THE OW. My suggestion is that,since it is my right to write about my life, if you don’t want to show up in a blog…I suggest you don’t do me dirty…lol. You may not like what I have written, why I chose to write this, or the fact that I even wrote it… but you have to respect the fact that I told the truth. Come hell or high water, I wish someone would have explained OWs to me before my life got snatched from under me. This is like the Confessions of the OW….lol. Men, I swear… can’t live with them, and get 20 years to life without parole if you try to live without them. lmbo!
This has been Advice from the Other Woman…..comments are welcome.
For ages our mothers have taught us to always be a lady in the street, while magazines tell us to be freaks in the sheets….just to have a book tell us that the male ego can’t stomach the idea of his woman having had practice sexually before meeting him, thus making you undateable. I say….MAN THE HELL UP! But those words wont get you into a meaningful relationship. So, I say….think like a hoe, but act like a lady.
Popular belief would mix and match that very theory…. and I am highly aware that I did not just reinvent the atom here, but work with a sister will you. The reason women don’t really get along with one another is because of two very simple reasons:
1. She was once naive and some more experienced girl came along and blew her dreams out of the water and now she is weary of every female; Good Girl Gone Bad Syndrome
2. She was the loose girl in the group who would do what the others wouldnt but always couldn’t get the guy or the relationships that the others could; Hoe Gone Remorseful Syndrome.
The reason why I don’t leave a female, even a friend, around my good man is because…”if the woman thought anything like I had to in order to get him…” , I’d have to kill her. Women are ruthless. They say that men are hunters by nature. Cute. We sent you all out into the woods while we hunted out which route we would take to capture you. We are architects of manipulation, sorry…but we are. Why do you think it takes us so long to get dressed? Even our outfits are battle gear preparing us to go out on the battlefield and attack the enemy in order for us to win the war. Make-up;war paint. Heels; couture army boots. Girdles, push-up bras, and spanks; camoflauge! lmao!!!!! Women, since the beginning of time, have been the baited traps that the guys fall for, and yet somewhere they thought that they were catching us when we were catching them….if I ruined anyone’s idea of this set up….my bad, your fault (stole that from my brother…lol. Thanks, Dre)
Yes, Biblically speaking you are supposed to wait to be found…..but it is where you place yourself and how you behave that will get you found. CHURCH IS NOT THE PLACE TO BE FOUND!!!! Girl, people are supposed to be finding Jesus and not your cooking skills at the annual bake sale for choir robes. Clubs are not the place to be found. Between the Ciroc and dim lights, you have to wonder if his judgment is just in picking you. You can still follow the old adage of being found, but having control in how you are found. Notice I said how… not when… don’t hit me up complaining that you havent been found yet. That’s a personal problem.
Athletic and Celebrity groupies have the right idea, but wrong execution. They hang out after all events, creep up to the hotel rooms, and try to get pregnant just to stake claim to the fortune of a celebrity. Some are successful but even then many never make it past the baby mama and jump off stage. Then you have the ladies who dress appropriately but shut out every single guy who doesn’t fit her criteria…..wrong idea, semi right execution. I say wrong idea is because you are supposed to experiment, find out what it is that you really like, plus experience REALISTICALLY what the world is willing to give back to you. The semi-right execution is in being honest with what you will and wont take and moving on to the next one if it doesn’t work out. So what would happen if we mixed the two? Maybe then we would get the girl who would place herself in intellectual settings, dressed appropriate, not allowing herself to be objectified while still maintaining her game face. Thinking like a hoe , but acting like a lady.
I could be wrong, I doubt it…and again I know that I am not saying anything new. But honestly…. this technique needs to be used. Have that “larger than life” appeal about you that the groupies have, but then execute your approach like a deaconess and watch the guys become baffled over the fact that they cant figure out how to get you. They say they don’t like game… BULL….because as soon as you admit how you really feel they think that the chase is over and they retreat like soldiers on the outside of the Trojan horse. I think that I can appropriately call this the Lysistrata Movement. Or as Medea would say it, “Clink, Clink”. lol.
As women, we have the urge to be sensual and sexual, men are not the only ones, but we must learn how to control that urge and remain ladies in trying to reach that ultimate relationship with a guy. Protecting his frail ego and our reputation go hand in hand…and once you forget one you lose the other as well. It is a balancing act that we must always keep in our heads. It must whisper to you like your bladder right before you get on a roller coaster.
But then again….I’m single….so I may not know what I am talking about… but all of my friends’ boyfriends love the way that I calm down their women and get the ladies to see things from his perspective. So, there is that to think about too…..it is always the single woman who gets the man…hint hint. So maybe it wouldn’t hurt to listen to one in order to keep him. Just a thought. *Wink*
Algebra Blessett singing so soulful in my headphones, professing that she “thinks” she loves someone….it makes me think of him. Yes, him… the very him that has had my heart since the day that I met him; Mr. GI3. Him… the him who was a Tuskegee University engineering student who had this masculine presence with a quiet force about him, the same man who has managed to tame the shrew and heal the wounded bird in me. And I think saying it out loud will solidify it for me…. maybe then I can move on.
We’ve been friends for quite some time And now I see you differently
There’s a cloudy picture that’s becoming clearer to me
I hesitate to tell you how I feel cuz I Don’t want you to be afraid And I dont want to make a mistake being too shy to say
I think I love you and I dont ever wanna let you go I think I need you in ways that I am unable to show
I think I love you and I want everybody that we know to know
Just how you make me feel….. just how you make me feel
You make it so frustrating cuz you’re so spoiled like me
Then it drives me insane when we agree to disagree
When my words don’t come together to make much sense You recite the perfect sentence to put my mind at ease, you see
I think I love you and I dont ever wanna let you go I think I need you in ways that I am unable to show I think I love you and I want everybody that we know to know
Just how you make me feel ……just how you make me feel
Time and time again I’m trying to convince
To myself that what I’m feeling it does make sense to me
Sometimes it’s difficult for me….(difficulty)
Like when days are here to stay and you bringing me my smile
But tomorrow comes around and some how you let me down Its confusing…. (its confusing) baby you’re driving me crazy
I think I love you and I don’t ever wanna let you go
I think I need you in ways that I am unable to show
I think I love you and I want everybody that we know to know How you make me feel…… just how you make me feel
I think…I think I love you I think …i think I need you
This is how you make me feel
~*Algebra Blessett
There is no “thinking” of whether or not I love him; I do. I do love. I do love ……him. He is in so many ways everything that I “think” I want in a man. He makes me laugh, he listens when I cry, he calls me on my BS and he is the only man who can put me in check without getting cussed out. lol. That is so sexy…lol. He is witty, he is highly intelligent, he is giving, he is caring, he is genuine, he can calm me down with just a few words and can make me see things clearly with just a few more words. And yes, the body captivates both my eyes & other anatomical parts (BACK UP LADIES>>> I WILL CUT FOR THIS ONE!!!!) and his voice makes Barry White sound like a soprano…..but nothing grabs my attention more than the tiny glimpses of himself that he allows me to be a part of. I cherish those moments.
He is a very private individual…and strangely, I know very little about him. Well, I know not too much more about him now than I did 6 years ago. That could be a plus or a minus, but I take it at face value…..it adds to the mystery of him and though I try to tell myself, “Girl, he just isn’t that into you” , I can’t break myself from how he directly or indirectly makes me feel.
No matter how upset with him I get ( like not talking to him for 2 years) I still feel connected to him, still feel wrapped up in my thoughts of him….and I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t even think that there is anything that I could do about it. Like how he says things when he thinks I am not listening, or says them swiftly and moves on to the next topic….. I just want to say “Negro, I heard you. ” But I don’t say a word. I think he knows that I heard him and that was the only way that he could tell me. (Yes, I know I sound psycho or as if I am making excuses… but try living it.. its even more confusing.) And though I know that his bad out numbers the good at times, the good outweighs and overpowers the bad….I have NO clue how that works, but it does. Or at least it makes sense to me. He’s not perfect by any stretch of imagination, but from what I know and a perception of what I dont….he is amazingly great. Even the memories of him are great.
Like, how I went to Minnesota one summer and the devil rose up and caused some situations to cause me to almost be homeless over 1,000 miles away from Alabama…..he managed to be there for me. Well, I opened up an email once I was safe and there he was telling me to give him a call immediately. So I did. He was concerned. He was more concerned than my family had been….at least he was looking for me. And much to my surprise, he was in Minnesota too!!! We met up at his apartment and that was when I introduced him to the Tyler Perry stage plays as we sat back, laughed and watched the movies…and I just felt like he cared. Or what about the time I got mad at him and stopped talking to him for MONTHS and he still managed to show up for my graduation from undergrad saying, “he wouldn’t miss it for the world.” That made me feel like such a princess…..and he was my prince. And Lord knows that I simply miss the kisses on the forehead that he use to give me when I would visit him on his campus. Great times…..*sigh*
I know most of you are not used to me being this mushy… because I don’t do mushy…but I don’t do love poems because I can’t have him.
I had hoped that maybe one day over the past few years something would have made both sides emotionally mutual…but I don’t think that is the case. I asked him a question and received a very honest answer. It wasnt bad by any stretch of the imagination…it was genuine and I loved that about him. But at the same time it was a bitter-sweet feeling. I would have to only be his friend from here unto eternity in order to spare my heart.
It hurts genuinely loving someone and not hearing it back. To feel as if you are possibly fantasizing something that may not even exist. It hurts to think that the other person may not trust you with their heart enough…when the only thing you want to do is to guard and protect it. It hurts to know that no amount of professing your love will ever change this person’s mind….that the stubbornness that you find so attractive is the very stubbornness that would provoke you to move on.
My aunt once told me that the worse thing a woman could do is to sit around waiting for a man to make up his mind about her. I’m soooo guilty of this, to a certain extent. But dang it…. he is the exception to all of my rules. I don’t know why, but he just is. He’s the ONLY guy who I truly accept both his good and his bad, the times he ticks me off to no end, and anything that comes with him. But I understand that I have to go live my life… I love him just that much that I can let him go. Weird, right?
I want him to be able to go about his own pace, to find whomever he feels would make him happy. That doesn’t hurt to even say that….it would taint how I really feel if I were to ever be jealous. But then again… I’m speaking as if I ever had him….lol. But you catch my drift. This guy is genuinely special and just as special to me. So, yeh… there is no thinking…. I really Love him. And I thank him for allowing me to be comfortable enough to express that love to him. I will take those lessons as I move forward in life and I wont let fear hold me back from loving someone else any more.
Now that I have your attention… welcome. The taboo sentiments that circle around the topic of homosexuality are enough to make me torch the nearest discriminating heterosexual with rainbow gasoline. Seriously, no matter what you think of the topic ,no one civil right should be trumped by one’s disapproval of another’s civil rights. Point, Blank, Period!
The title, obvious. I pulled a Katy Perry once in undergrad; I kissed a girl…and I liked it. One time, end of story. Nothing dramatic, nothing scandalous, just truth. What?!!! I went to a majority white college… girl on girl kissing is required in the student constitution to get your diploma…lol. So, should I be persecuted for a seemingly innocent homosexual act? Should I be banned from heaven because, in all actuality, I find the feminine form more attractive than that of a male’s but prefer the male’s over a woman’s? Or do I get a pass, the left blinded eye of justice, because I am a “redeemed” homosexual and I didn’t even send in $10.99 for a free healing prayer cloth? News flash, it is not the act that makes a person homosexual.
I’ve never had sex with a woman, I just can’t picture myself ever taking it that far….so I’m a lesbian on paper…lol. I send in my dues every month at a gay pride rally but that is about it. But if you ask me how do I identify myself….you’ll never hear me say heterosexual. For that matter, you’ll never hear me say I’m homosexual. I just am. I stand in the middle, torn by what a part of me once experienced and what the rest of the world says is appropriate, all the while thinking that they could both exist harmoniously.
Ignorance about homosexuality makes me cringe. I actually have a co-worker who once, while proclaiming his frustration over his son’s flying to New York from Florida to see his long distance girlfriend, said, “Well, it could be worse. He could be gay.” He said it as if being a serial killer, an international terrorist, or satan himself were all better than if his son were a homosexual with perfect credit and a clean criminal record with the cure to all currently incurable diseases stuffed in his left jean pant pocket. But this of course is coming from the same “Christian” coworker who posted this above his desk:
I rest my case……….Shame how people can hate but can’t even copy/paste scripture properly…lol
I have homosexual friends that I have invited to my church over, and over, and over again. I hate having to preface with “the speaker may hit an anti-homosexual rant, but listen to the voice of God between it all.” I want to stand up and shout during service…. “MUCH LIKE THE MILITARY, THE MORE PEOPLE WE HAVE SPREADING GOD’S MESSAGE, THE BETTER OFF WE ARE IN THIS WAR AGAINST EVIL!” But I don’t. I let the masses in the pews clap and cheer and Amen the minister of the day. Deep down I just want to fix it all, help bring a different approach. Telling me that I am wrong will not make me listen to you, but showing me another way for something to be done may get me to see your side. Shouting to the hills that homosexuality is wrong keeps so many lost souls from hearing God’s message. It’s almost as if they don’t think that bringing them into His house, teaching the rest of his teachings, will be enough ground work for God to magically work in their lives the way that He sees fit. It’s almost as if they are shouting that you can’t be Christian if you are a homosexual or don’t disapprove of homosexuals. When in fact they could try the Pythagorean-ish theorem. If a=God, and b=His mercy, then c=His love for you. One may conclude after hearing those lessons repeatedly that God would work inside of the person. You can’t cut out what you THINK is cancer without first taking tests, blood work ( pardon the religious pun), X-rays, and even the initial incision on the surgery table. Baby steps, not attack. And I am not saying here that it should even be changed…but if you think that homosexuals should be changed…think of a different approach.
I also don’t think that religiously suppressing homosexuals is a healthy method of spiritually reforming people for the heterosexual partners that they may find themselves with. As a female who would one day like to be married to a male, I have fears of being in a relationship with a male who loves another male but because his church tells him he should be with a female he picks one as a front for the public and then begins down low activities…been there, done that… tested negative. That is a touchy subject for me. If you told me that my “now” husband was once with a man… I would always wonder if he still had those same feelings and I would want him to go be with whomever made him happy rather than stick around in a marriage with me simply because I was female. Only God can change an urge. My urge to stop having sex, though, doesn’t make me a virgin again, just like making someone stop engaging in homosexual activities will not make a homosexual a heterosexual. So am I wrong for letting God work his magic on the things that would cause me to hate? Am I wrong for having faith that God will work things out and as long as I continue to love everyone around me, respect them as humans and preach the word of God to get people into His house, no matter their sexual preference, God will be proud of me? Or am I wrong for thinking that it is ridiculous to lose a person over one Biblical scripture rather than gain them through a thousand others?
I highly doubt that when it is all said and done that I will get to the pearly gates and Peter is gonna chuck up the Dueces with Jesus on speaker phone as they both tell me that I must spend eternity in hell because I didn’t choose to persecute the gays. People use the Bible at their convenience to promote their cause. I say, if you don’t use it all exactly the way that it was written….dont come hollering that nonsense in my ear all out of context. I’ve even heard ministers say that “this is a new time but the messages still apply”. Well, when your wife can’t have a baby you better not turn to invetro, you better sleep with your house servant. When Michael Jackson died he should have risen like Lazarus. I’m just saying… do you see the disconnect here? Why is it that other things can be forgotten, modernized, and substituted, but the principle of homosexuality and adamant hatred associated with it managed to last throughout the ages? Maybe, now, God needs this individual, who happens to be a homosexual, to know the love that God has for all human beings. Maybe this individual needed to hear how Job waited on the Lord, or how Joseph, David, and others over came trials. Maybe they need for you to practice the agape that you preach. Just maybe.
I know several homosexuals that walk the halls of my church without them ever having to say a word but I have proof….their secret will be safe with me even after I die ( and I love them for EXACTLY who they are). I have several friends who are openly homosexual and I preach the word of God to them. I even have one requesting that I explain to her what “touch and agree” means because I say it around her so much. And I have a homosexual friend who revealed to me their HIV status…I didn’t shy away from them, I didnt think…”that’s what you get”, no… I loved them even more. And I laugh, joke, and talk about God with them whenever I can. I actually have some deep conversations about God with this individual. So yeh… the gays know the Holy Trinity as well… they just don’t always feel accepted by those claiming to be “His” people. You see, I don’t think that its my place to cast the first stone, but it is my place to say, come into God’s house, listen to his word and He will work on you in His time. I love all of my brothers and sisters, straight, not so straight, and flat out crooked. I think that is what I am supposed to do.
A homosexual engaging in homosexual acts may not directly or indirectly kill me. But a straight man who came to church to hear a word about how God will make a way out of no way but instead hears about the persecution of the gays who then leaves and holds my bank hostage while i’m trying to pull out rent money….just might. No one sin is greater than another. Shouting “no homo” is not only stupid, but saying that you are not the same…when in fact you are. You too are human, you too are a sinner looking to be saved, and you too are praying that one day you will get into heaven despite your faults. So much like weight, who a homosexual loves just happens to be a visual habit that many feel they can pick on while keeping their own personal habits in the closet.
This is not a rant to say that “Christians” are wrong and homosexuals are right. Just like I am entitled to my opinion, you are more than welcome to be bigoted by yours. *smirk* I just know that I can wake up with my conscience free every morning knowing that I am not hating someone or a sect of persons just because someone standing before me says that I should. God hasn’t spoken that chapter of the Bible to me yet.
All jokes aside, I don’t believe everything that I read because many a man has had their say so in what I read before my eyes ever set sail across the page. But I do believe that God exists and my relationship with him is one of understanding and love. I am comfortable in that and will not let anyone else’s interpretation of how my Father and I behave taint my relationship with Him or how He chooses to shine through me. Again, you “christian” your way and I will “christian” my way..yes, I made it a verb. lol. It shouldn’t be that way, but as it stands….this is peaceful. Now…back to the gays…..
Being a homosexual, to me, isn’t a crime……hate my theory all you want, I will not change. I say this… premarital sex isn’t favored upon….lets hold everyone to that standard no matter what your preference. Because I would hate for someone to not get saved and know God like I am still getting to know him just because they chose to love differently than myself. I have faith that God can work miracles and if GOD chooses to keep them homosexual…then that is between God and that person. I must uphold the love, grace, and mercy that has been shown to me and display it to others who come in my presence. I’m not a homosexual, nor am I heterosexual,;I am the understanding. I understand what it feels like to want someone to hear you out. I also know what it feels like to hear God telling me what to do, not tainted in my mission and do it in spite of. I also know that God would want me to love far more than he would ever want me to hate. And if I am wrong in that assumption, He’ll deal with me on my Judgement Day. Until then… all humans are alright with me. None of us are 100 % right nor know all of the answers, but I will definitely love you until we find a conclusion or one of us dies. And if these men don’t start acting right I just might cash in my lesbian on paper membership to a full fledge flag waving VIP member… DON’T PUSH ME!!! No hetero.
P.S. If you like this topic, check out my other topic: 200 Men Said…. “Same”phobic Homosapiens <~Click Here
From the worst of America’s landfills to the Valentines Day Massacre, when walking into a women’s public restroom….you NEVER know what you will find next. I promise you that nothing ceases to amaze me at just how nasty these women can be.
Yes, we have couches, full length mirrors, hand lotions, and the like…but I think that I’ve discovered their intended uses. The couch is to catch you when you faint from the multitude of stenches that emanate from under the stall doors and pimp slap your nostrils and destroy your comprehension of feminine. The full length mirrors are for the culprits to get a full scan of themselves before leaving the restroom and entering back into the population so that they may blend in effortlessly. And the lotion is for decoration. It just baffles me at what occurs in female restrooms.
Guys, we ladies go to the restroom in groups for several reasons. We may need someone to hold the door in place because the lock doesn’t work and we don’t want our goods and the use of our goods on display to anyone who walks into the restroom. You may need someone to run and get tissue from the stall next to you because your stall is ill stocked. We need a double set of eyes to help view us before entering the public once more because of the sea of debauchery we have just encountered. And lastly, misery loves company.
I work in a government office and when I tell you all the things that go on in here ….*inahle…exhale*….it makes you wonder how in the world could they run the country if they can’t even properly run water over their hands to wash them completely. There are SES, colonels, majors, and highly paid government officials that visit this restroom on the floor in my building and you would think that I was in a high school bathroom rather than a federally secure building. The paper seat covers are there intentionally and for some reason these women think that the covers are optional. They walk right past them and plop their happy behinds directly on the seats that hundreds of other women before then have used. This makes me want to gag at the fact that even they don’t think that their Va-jay-jays hold much value. SMH.
I’ve walked into a stall after someone else and almost had a heart attack. Once the floor was wet as if a 5-year-old boy was learning to aim and failed miserably, rather than the 40-year-old woman who just exited. I was tempted to do an Adam’s apple check but didn’t want to mess with anyone’s civil rights. And need I mention the several times these nasty females refuse…I mean BLATANTLY refuse…. to flush the toilet after using it. As if it is going to flush itself. I don’t need to know what you ate for lunch or that you need more water in your diet. WOMAN, THAT IS JUST NASTY!!! The seats never get wiped off for the woman who chose to forgo the aforementioned seat covers and squat over the seat, aiming horribly and spraying the entire seat and refusing to wipe it upon leaving. And the greatest offender is the woman who chooses to do #2 in the FIRST STALL!!! That goes against all rules known to man. You are never supposed to get that comfortable in the first stall… you do that in the last stall furthest from the door so no one is subjected to the inner workings of your colon! I need to write a book on this.. because these women kill me.
But nothing kills me more than the continuous culprits who refuse to wash their hands. I once went to the restroom at a restaurant and a waitress came in after me, walks into a stall, doesn’t use it, comes out to fix her hair in the mirror, and leaves back out. I guess the look on my face attacked her conscience because she waited for me outside of the door to plead her case. She says, “I know you didn’t see me wash my hands, but I didn’t use the bathroom I was just changing my shirt (because they can’t have writing on their shirts).” I proceeded to tell her that she still went into the restroom where germs live and she should wash her hands regardless. She returned and washed her hands, rather too swiftly for me ,and says in passing, “You’re right, I did it.” There was also the woman who use to work in my office who once, when there were three females from my office in the restroom with her , chose to do #2, didn’t flush, and walked right out of the bathroom. We almost got sick together. She was the office baker, she loved to bake for people’s birthdays, etc. After that day, I promise you, we never ate a single thing she ever brought into this office unless it was store-bought and one of us opened it before her. Yet nothing will ever top the other woman in the office next to me who times her peeing perfectly to flush before you and damn near runs out of the bathroom so you can’t see that it was her who didnt wash her hands. And should you come out the same time as her…she literally turns the water on, counts to two, waves one hand under the water without soap, turns it off, grabs a towel to dry the one hand, and walks out of the door as if she successfully washed the bacteria off of her hands. What gets me is that these women who dodge you from catching them being nasty in fact KNOW they are being nasty and yet still go about with the same trifling behaviors. Why?!!!!!
I speak with the cleaning ladies who have to clean up after these women daily and I feel so sad from them. If I were in fact that nasty at home, I would be too ashamed to do it in public. I would be on my best behaviors for the 8 hours I was at work and then save it for when I went home. I would even take into consideration the people who would have to clean up after me and decide to clean up after myself. But then again…. this is me.
So fellas, before your girlfriend walks back to the table and feeds you food with her hands or puts her finger in your mouth flirtaciously…. check her hand to see if it smells like girly soap. Seriously!!! She could be telling you to kiss her ass via her hand. lmbo! And this is even at home after she comes back from the bathroom in the morning. You all could be harboring nasty women and not even know it because they look so dainty in front of you. I know because these nasty women in my office are married!!!! Those of us who wash our hands always apply lotion so that our hands wont get dry or appear ashy. SO smell her hand for soap or flowery fragrances. Hell.. even feel her hands because freshly wet hands are softer due to them having just absorbed moisture. I AM SO SERIOUS!!! Tell her that you think the smell of soap or lotion is mega sexy.. maybe this will prompt the nasty trick into washing her hands because she’ll never know when the next impromptu hand check will occur.
And no apologies if you just read this and found it gross… this topic must be spoken about. Do you know that if I posted anything on the walls of our restrooms begging women to have better hygiene I could be fired for inappropriate/aggressive behavior, but these nasty women have the right to pass germs around the office, on elevator buttons, and door handles!!!!! That’s just wrong. So until I get more rights to protect my immune system, I’ll just continue to fake like I am on my cell phone talking to a friend as I LOUDLY complain about how nasty these trifling women are while standing next to a culprit at the bathroom sink. lol. Wash your hands tricks!!!
I’ll never forget the day that I was watching Blue Print on BET, Nelly was on the couch looking as delicious as always, but it would be what he said next that would wake up my understanding of “it takes a village.” When asked how does Nelly feel about the backlash he receives from the Tip Drill video since he is supposed to be a role model, Nelly replied [paraphrased]:
“My children have never seen, nor heard Tip Drill in my house, or at all…and I made the video/song. What that tells me is that you are unable to filter what your children watch and listen to and point the blame at me when they are subjected to such material. It starts at home first.”
Bam! There it was, a slap in the face to all parents for sucking at Millenium Parenting 101. A celebrity basically told you that somewhere in his busy schedule of not always being in the same household, yet alone the same country, as his children he has managed to still find time to parent them “correctly”. So what is your excuse? So what if you have 3 jobs and sleep while your kids do homework. So what if you see your kids only on the weekend. So what if your baby’s daddy/mama is bugging this week. A celebrity is telling you that YOU were not the proper role model in your household so your children turned to him, and that is NOT his fault because the only children he is concerned about is his own when it comes to setting the proper example…well not exactly, but you catch my drift.
Picture this, teens and parents alike are idolizing the images that they see these celebrities, particularly rappers, portray on their televisions daily without ever taking into consideration that these are false replicas of their home lives. Snoop raps about sleeping with several women, crip walking, always high, etc. When in reality, his own kids are in extra curricular activities. He makes sure that they have positive outlets to keep them out of the same negative influences that he had growing up. OutKast makes jokes about getting married and remembering what “a pimp taught you”, while Big Boi has a lovely home life that he keeps very much to himself so that the outside world can’t taint it. David Banner has a DOCTORATE degree that will never find its way up into his music because it doesn’t sell records, and Diddy probably will never rap about how he keeps making millions without a single consecutive album on the charts. This is a clear disconnect in the village’s line of communication.
Let me use Nelly’s daughter as an example ( and I do so with the utmost respect and purely for demonstration purposes). Let’s say Nelly protects only his daughter from Tip Drill, but here is this other child at home watching Tip Drill because it was made available to him since his parents aren’t as strict as Nelly. As time passes, both children will grow up and , for the sake of this demonstration, will meet and fall in love. This young gentleman is a fan of Nelly’s and wishes to impress him whenever in his presence, but behind closed doors he believes in the Tip Drill theory and has enough influence over his daughter to make her the next Tip Drill Vixen, because Daddy isn’t her main focus any more. Can anyone say Montana Fishburne? Or what about the kids who were featured on T.I’s television show? He told these kids that he was a changed man, there was a better way of handling things…and then turns around and gets arrested on some drug charges (allegedly…*side eye*). To a kid who looks up to him that sends a mixed message, but should he look up to T.I.? Or should he look up to the single mother at home struggling to keep up with her other 3 children while this teen is refusing to follow house rules? This same teen could one day grow up to be the thug that he thinks T.I. to be ( since T.I. doesn’t always stick to his word…allegedly) and be the very thug that robs T.I.’s son of a chain, or start a fight in a club deja vu style….catch my drift?
The theory of “It Takes a Village to Raise a Child” still stands true, but the meaning has somewhat gotten lost in its translation from an African Proverb to an Urban Legend. Parents, becoming an active part of the village shields your child in the future. You will have had a hand in raising the child next door, possibly preventing them from obtaining psycho killer habits because they knew that someone was there to care for them. Grandmothers down the street with readily available switches will remind them that their best behavior is to be expected at all times. Strangers pinching will be the extra pair of eyes in the back of your head for the mannish male attempting to sneak a peek or a feel at your daughter’s rear end. The theory is rather narcissistic, actually. It is all about gaining control of the elements around you to better protect you and your family. You can’t be in fighting stance and expect to win if you don’t know that your opponent is already suited up and standing outside your door. Now that I think about it…. it takes a Village to keep you from getting your ass whooped…lol. But I digress. Speaking up to tell the kids on metro platforms to behave, if only temporary, will indirectly cut down on the metro cops profiling you when having innocent fun with your friends after a night on the town. It is all rather cyclical…..
I’ve been and continue to be a spoke on this village’s wheel. In true Forrest Gump Fashion, ” if you lean on my back and I lean on your back, that way we wont have to sleep in the mud.” Drop your pride, MOTHERS, no one is saying that you are a bad mother and that you don’t know how to raise your kids….unless they truly are saying you’re a bad mother and don’t know how to raise your kids…lol. But accept the extra set of healthy eyes, the extra set of helping hands…..it will all work out fine in the morning. Maybe we can return to the days when we slept with doors unlocked because we know that out neighbors are watching out for us just as we are watching out for them. Maybe we will feel safer to send our children down the street because every door step will view and guide the path of our child while in our absence….maybe, just maybe…… a Villager can dream, cant I?
Ummmmm…. there was really no fan fare and out right debauchery that I have become accustomed to seeing when I turned on the awards. It didn’t really feel like an award show because Beyonce didn’t win a single “lady’s” award. And Lady Gaga was too PMS emotional for me to stomach all in one swallow. But it was what it was and that is why we are here.
First, WHAT THE FUDGE WERE THEY THINKING WHEN CHOSING CHELSEA HANDLER AS THE HOST? I’ve seen her show, I don’t think they’ve seen her show, have you seen her show…okay, then you know. So, outside of the borderline KKK comedy that came from her mouth, everything was relatively PG-13. I think I could have counted the amount of censored bleeps they used on her with one hand. LAME. That makes for no fun. I could have done better. The jokes were predictable, I wish her drunk ass would have stood in one place because her walking back and forth for no damn reason was giving me a headache. I think she only had 2 costume changes which makes her not that important. Hell, Kathy Griffin would have gotten more changes than that and she is on the D List. But I digress….
I’m suing MTV for negligent advertising through the obsessed use of Cover Girl’s Taylor Swift rants. I swear… I was prepared to go Tonya Harding on that tazz if I heard Taylor Swift’s name one more ‘gin. For all of the Taylor Swift fans, that is ebonics for once more. We get it, Kanye’s speaking the truth last year at the wrong damn time was the big black elephant in the room…that should have squashed both Chelsea and Taylor. But the both of them continuously acknowledging it just gave Kanye more power. He was able to weasel his way into the host’s material as well as Taylor’s. The best way to deal with Kanye, like us black people do at times, is to ignore him. He made you relevant this year. He made them call you back to perform this year to have your spotlight. He is the reason Cover Girl blasted your name in ads every 15 minutes and never once did that for Rhianna or Beyonce who have waaaaaaaaay more nominations and awards than you. So, secretly, say thank you and get on with it. Yes, he was wrong. But it made you go down in history. We’ll always remember the innocent girl who had her moment stolen by Kanye and restored by both Beyonce and MTV 2 years in a row. your music is lovely and I will never take that away from you……but if I hear your name again, I swear I will Kanye everything you do….try me!
Will I Am [Nuts] straight up confused me with that ensemble. I was concerned. I wasnt sure if he needed psychiatric attention or was acting out because people no longer thought he was black. I am still at a lost for words.
Drake!!! Love it, Love it!, Love it!…..but why did he look like a high yellow Fred Astaire gliding across the stage as the missing Rat Pack member? A Rapper in a suit is classic….but I had a disconnect with the stage performance. I finally figured out what Swizz was saying… it is Concealer…like how you conceal an affair from your wife.. but I digress again. Mary J Blige in a hat took me back to classic MJB. Something about a hat makes her soul come out. Made me want to cut a hole in the top of a baseball cap and jam out to the performance. But she stole the show.
In failing news, I voted for Nicki Hoenaj as the New Artist of the Year award just because Beiber was getting too much hype. Call me a hater, but I regret it because my vote was in vain, Beiber won. I mean really.. here we are worried about the Mexican border while the Canadians are taking over. First Shania Twain, then Drake, and now Beiber…..wow. Canadians are like the new Asians, they can dance and out sing us. Fascinating. But much love and congrats goes out to Usher’s protegé. Parents, dont go naming your kids Justin just because it made Beiber & Timberlake cross over ready. Stick to Paul and John, and Ringo…it worked for the Beatles.
Lady Gaga turned into Beyonce for the night swiping every award category she was in… amazing. But the highlight of my night was when she both hugged and gave a shout out to Lori Ann Gibson for her amazing work. Goo Goo Gaga aside, Lori works her ass off and she deserved every bit of that shout out. I think more choreographers should get shout outs at video awards. I think there should be a choreographer category. Yep, you heard it here first. Best Choreographed Video should be announced. We do the dances, and majority of the times that is what keeps the song relevant. So Props to Lori Ann and all of the other amazing and wonderful choreographers!!! I am also on standby for “PETA ATTACKS LADY GAGA WITH A1 SAUCE” headlines.
Back to Hoenaj, fairly quickly, what was that boring ensemble she had on? Did she just not give a fudge about the MTV Awards? Even I expect more than that from the woman. Ok…on to the next one.
Cher took me back to her Mermaid days. I felt so old for even remembering where I was when she wore the original outfit, and felt even worse about my low self esteem that a woman 30 years my senior could wear the same outfit she use to wear when I was 6…the universe is soooo not fair. Forget SLim Fast, I need the Cher diet. And since my mind is twisted….she had to get waxed to get into that costume… does her cha cha turn into dust with each wax? I don’t see how she is preserved so well. I think her and Dick Clark drank from the same friggin well. Just saying… it’s a Conspiracy… C-O-N-spiracy!
I forgot what rock band went up there towards the end…ok Linkin Park, but they made me miss Creed. Why cant bands stay together….the good bands at least? Sigh… memories. But that was a great performance and I loved it. Yes, the black girl jams out to Rock & Roll…not all, but the songs that speak to my heart. I think you are an amazing musician if you can penetrate the heart and soul of a predominately saturated genre that is opposite from your own. And Yes… they did a great job.
Bruno Mars looked like a latin Fonz from happy Days, or a lost Menudo brother…which ever will make you laugh first.
Rhi Rhi’s outfit looked as if she and Chris had a reunion in the limo before she hit the stage, pardon the pun. I was conflicted with her conflicted look. And that song still confuses me; Eminem sounds remorseful for knocking the spit of of his woman while Rhi sounds like she’s saying.. : “Oh No baby, keep hitting me. I love it when you lie, it hurts so good!”. Yeeeeeeeh……ummmm.. okay. I say stay away from that if you like Freedom , fellas. Also, it was funny when Rhi Rhi tried to be cute during Drake’s performance. The camera zoomed in on her and Katy Perry as Rhi Rhi flashed rings and “i’m too cute” faces at Katy….and Katy Igged her. She didn’t even look in Rhi Rhi’s way. Rhi Rhi went from “Oh, you Fancy, Huh “to “Oh You got Igged, Huh?” all is on swift swoop.lol. I suggest that celebs coordinate trendy moves with the person sitting next to them as not to look egg faced. lol. Because, you guessed it, butt munches like myself NOTICED IT!
Wow… I feel so Perez Hilton-ish after that last remark, but I think it was done with a touch of Love B. Scott class, minus the love muffins.
And last, but not least….they put Kanye LAST! Nobody puts Baby in the corner!!! But Dear Mr. West… I didn’t get it. I mean I got it , but wondered why. I think you should have exercised “all that power” and pulled out a show stopper that we’re accustomed to you having. That was pretty much like the anticipation and final delivery of Lauryn Hill at Rock the Bells in Maryland/DC. We expected so much and we walked away with… umm.. yeh. But you still have my vote dude. You say what most of us are thinking but fail to say…even when it shouldnt be said. But I respect you just the same.
Well… that is all I can recap in my head. All the show was missing was Willow whipping her hair back and forth, a perfectly timed released nipple on a censor delay, a few bitches, and an unexpected fall. No one even kissed on this episode, where they trying to control Hollywood’s inbreeding this year? So, until next time…. I’ll be just as uncensored.
So a sexual “pro”, some male celebrities and HOPEFULLY some condoms walk into a hotel room…… LMAO! What follows after that will depend on if you are a smart “pro” or an ignant “pro”. And yes, I said ignant…the kind of person who has yet to earn the missing vowel/consonant. Daily there are business women sleeping their way to the top, street walkers patrolling 18th & K Streets NW better than the Metropolitan Police , and the average ignant female who receives nothing for what she is giving. Who should get more respect?
Disclaimer: I don’t condone ANY of the activities mentioned above, but of course we know that sex sales in this world. Everyone wasnt raised in the church, everyone doesn’t use common sense, and not everyone has the appropriate level of self-pride ( whether too little or bona-fide hubris). This also isn’t as judgmental of a piece as it may appear….but it will state my side very strongly. lol. You may continue….
Saying that one type of pro is smarter than another would have to be broken down via common sense versus book sense. Common sense would tell you to not engage in the acts that objectify yourself, but many don’t see it as such. Book sense would, AT THE VERY LEAST, tell you to make sure that you are getting paid for inviting others, and sometimes, the world into your physical temple. I can respect a girl who is doing something that I may not agree with if she were in fact doing it for a legit cause and were at least sustaining her life by it. I know the church is gonna scream now… but I could understand a woman feeling at her wits ends and stripping on a pole to put food on her table for her kids or to make it through law school on the right side of justice. I say if the church doesn’t like it, get like a Jehovah’s Witness and beat the streets to get God’s message out to the people. A girl can’t make it to the pole if she’s ducking behind the couch in her living room because a Jehovah’s Witness is peeking through her living room’s bay window intercepting her escape route. What I DONT get is the pro that does this mess for -ish and giggles and/or a Gucci purse. Come on!!! You mean to tell me that you think you are only worth a knock off or $1,000?!!!!! Or free pictures for a portfolio that is being seen only by local dudes claiming to be professionals. Or studio time? It both pains and kills me to see girls plastered half-naked to fully naked on the internet knowing damn well they didn’t get paid for it, their kid’s have unmet medical needs, and they are still living at home with their mother. If you are going to do it…. by all means woman… get paid for it.
Disclaimer #2: I would prefer you not do it at all, but for the sake of this blog….continue….
Super Head was the talk of the town before main stream even knew who she was. She had dirt, had secrets, but she hoarded them all until she found the right medium to profit from her indiscretions. She was a Smart Pro. She knew that people were using her for their own personal gains so why not use herself to rise above it, create a source of income that would allow her to be in charge of her own life. Much like the models who have portfolios filled with naked pictures considered to be high fashion, she didn’t reveal what she had to everyone…her body ….maybe, but definitely not without getting paid. She didn’t reveal her most prized assets to anyone who asked her to do so, she smiled for the camera, she danced to the fronts of scenes…but she made a name for herself in her own right.
Melissa Ford is another smart chick… I don’t use pro, because I don’t know what she did behind closed doors…but people took her to be such. But this woman is BRILLIANT! Have you ever spoken to her on twitter? I promise you that your mouth will fall open. She used one avenue to get into the spotlight and then got out because she didn’t need to stay there. She too may have shown some goods every now and again, but I guarantee you that her self-worth made someone’s pockets hurt. I can respect her. Idolize her? NEVER…. but I do respect her hustle.
Then you flip the rock over… and you find the gutter bugs; the leeches; the Patricks to the Spongebobs of the world; The Below- Average Heads….sorry I couldn’t keep that one in….lmbo! You have the Montana Fishburnes & Kat Stacks of the Dumb Chicks R Us sorority that make you do the Scoobie Doo; ” Rue ,Rue Shaggy?” People who see the end results but never processed the struggle that these women above had to go through. These nuts glorify the world, think it is the rite of passage into whatever fantasy they have, but they failed to plan appropriately. Kat Stacks makes me itch. If I were her, THANK THE LORD THIS IS JUST A SCENARIO…lol…but if I were, I would have saved all of the footage, all of the information and gotten paid to release it. But no, the low-budget minded female reveals it shortly after it occurs. This is what I find disturbing. This is pure business law right here, you supply as long as there is a demand and you never bite the hand that feeds you until you are full and can feed yourself after the bite.
All jokes aside, I am not a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I just want to take every female who feels she has to show her body off in such negative lights and wrap her in my arms and tell her that she’s beautiful. People don’t say it to one another enough….but I want to run up to little girls in the street and hug them ( hell I just might start) and tell them I love them and they are beautiful..just random teens and let them hear it at least once from someone. I want them to see beyond the present moment; it’s not art, it can keep you from getting jobs, it can keep you from friendships, it can hinder you from meaningful relationships, and it could put you in danger from the sickos of the world. I would prefer that I never saw another woman posting barely-there pics at all on the net… but if you’re going to do it… at least get paid for it UP FRONT. Dont post it in hopes of being discovered….because people will discover that you are just another female who didn’t have the wherewithal to demand your worth up front. And I know that somewhere deep down you have GOT to think better of yourself than what these pics , poses, and actions portray. I’m starting at home, from my baby cousin, who at the age of 17 keeps posting pics of her with poses from behind and her booty poking out. Every Facebook & Twitter pic gets viewed by me….she is worth MORE than that and she is beautiful and intelligent and I told her to stop making people think that SHE thinks her butt is the best she has to offer. I will fight this cause until she stops or I die… which ever comes first. I can be very annoying. She’s young enough to where she doesnt take offense to me saying it, but rather thinks I am stunting her innocent fun. She can think what she wants…..I will continue to bug every pic she posts.
WARNING:This is a very graphic and tough topic. Personal experiences and sexual references are made andPARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Somewhere, in some part of the world, there is a little girl snuggled in her bed pressed against a wall, head under her pillow with just enough space to inhale for the breath holding ahead and to peek towards the door knob awaiting the return of her personal boogie man. Monsters Inc prepares children for the monsters who reside under your bed and in your closets, but what about the monsters who pin you down to the bed and force you and this secret into the closet….what then?
I was one of those children, and I don’t know if I have ever stopped being one of those children. To this day, I sleep with my bedroom door locked, a privilege that was not granted to me living under his roof. I have escape routes out of windows in my house just in case an intruder were to ever invade my safe haven. Windows covered in complete darkness resemble the rooms I had growing up because our neighbor’s house was so close and he lived by the rule of thumb that “what happens in this house stays in this house.” Who was I to judge his authority?
(Screaming!) He molested me! *exhales* There, I said it…outloud. Who is this “he”, you ask?
He was my father, Charles S Carter Jr, and he was the man who molested me from before I could remember until the courts took us away from him when I was 12 years old. People say that I look like him, but I still need a DNA test to even begin that process. He was an electrical engineer with several degrees who spoke several languages, and a normal relationship was as foreign to us as him speaking Korean to me in moments of battle. I was his daughter. His first-born, born from the love that he had once married to my mother, but I would come to learn that although I was not his favorite I would turn out to be Daddy’s Girl. Late night parent daughter talks, asthmatic lungs inhaling the stench of Newports from his chest as the weight of a grown man crushed my prepubescent body into a mattress for no other reason than I was female, easily accessible, and he had a disease that yearned to be fed. Daughter perched on daddy’s lap became a moment to talk about whatever popped up, as eyes were turned to the roaming hands of a step brother who idolized him and my flat chest at the same time. This is where I lived and died daily. I lived with a military man who swore to protect his country but protected the secret of his personal habit even harder. Just ask my crushed toes underneath the Army boots that were now stepping on my feet for not wearing socks or houseshoes…as if being his daughter wasnt punishment enough.
I remember being punished just for breathing too loudly; popped in the mouth for the escape of a smack reaching his eardrum. A simple tug of his beard meant I was in trouble. One time, he hit me so hard in my tailbone that I lost control of my legs and urinated on myself all in one swift swoop, just to turn around and get a whooping for messing up the floor. A call from the teacher meant that I would have to strip in front of my father and walk the house butt naked and if he saw me ,and felt like it, then I would get a whooping right then and there. I became a master at silently turning door knobs better than he could and dodging in and out of bedrooms and hallway closets just to go to and from the bathroom in peace. Doing number two (pardon the graphics) was the only time I could be in the bathroom in peace without anyone entering. Fingers entering openings to ensure “cleaning” because I was filthy, followed by my father laying me on the bed to towel dry me off and rub me from head to toe with baby oil. Slow grinding on me was common place. Adolescent hips popping out of socket under the weight of his grinding, hurting, caused me to try to push him off because talking would make him lose his concentration and bring whoopings. He never listened to my cries and held my hands down. There I was, learning the best lessons of male and female relationships from my father. How lucky was I to learn about the birds and bees from my own father? Every girl needs a father in the house, right?
One day in church I just didn’t want to go back to his house. My aunt couldn’t make me if God told me to go back himself. I’d had enough. Sitting in the police station with male police officers giving me different toys to describe my fathers penis proved unfruitful; I didn’t trust males. They had no choice but to send me back. I got a whooping until I blacked out. My father took me to a therapist to save face…maybe she could figure out where I was “making these stories up”.
Off of Carmichael Road in Montgomery, Alabama sat my therapist’s office. A soft-spoken caucasian woman who listened intently as my father sat on the other side of the door. That is until the day she asked me to re-enact with Barbie and Ken what I told the police happened….so, I showed her. She opened the door and invited my father into the room so he could see too. I never spoke of anything again. And yes, you guessed it….I got a whooping until I had an asthma attack and he had to take me to Maxwell Air Force Base to the ER. This time my Aunt believed me and she fought for custody…but she still allowed him visitations until she passed away when I was 15. He came to her house for her funeral and sat in the kitchen and told ever male there not to be trusted around me because I would lie on them like I had lied on him. And he vanished into street legend. I never saw him, or the therapist ever again.
My father followed me, in theory. I heard stories of him doing crack from friends in high school, but he had taught me the best lesson ever; Never let anyone make you feel like less of a person. I walked those halls of my high school as a virgin…because I was. Guys from all around wanted to be with the virgin and every single one failed. I wouldn’t willingly give myself to someone until I was in college. You see….I was molested, but he didn’t take my virginity.
Every guy is not my father, nor am I searching for him in every guy that I date….but through all that I wrote above and more that I didn’t write….I was still a human. A demon like him couldn’t touch the best parts of me. He couldn’t reach them with all of his might because his intentions were wrong. My virginity had nothing to do with sex…my virginity was me, my mind, my free spirit, my determination to rise above where people keep putting me, and the favor that was placed over me even though I was entangled in a generational curse. He tried, but I walked out of his house and his presence with the hymen of my integrity and the mission over my life in tack.
Today, he lives in Baltimore. He’s never been prosecuted, never been made to suffer for what he put me and others through. One day, and maybe soon… I will walk to where they say that he works and tell him that he couldn’t break me. He couldn’t make me feel less than a princess even though my father wasnt a king.
This is a part of what I went through, but it is NOT who I am. It helped me make decisions about not showing my body to just any guy. You’ll never hear tales of me sleeping with different guys all in the name of love without being in love. You’ll never see pics of me plastered on the internet that show more of my assets than I am showing I am worth. And you will never hear that I’ve stopped breaking the silence. I was molested but I was never a victim. My virginity never has to be born again because it never died. I found strength through this. Dont get me wrong, I’d never go back a second time…. but I made it out, and THAT is something to be proud of. Where I came from does NOT determine where I will go.
So, to anyone who has been through similar stories….today is not too late to realize that they had the problem and not you. We are of a sisterhood that many will never understand. I salute you and all of your wonderful glory. I stopped holding my father accountable for what he did to me and the effects it had on my life the day I last saw him….that is not my battle. It weighs you down, trust me. I try to find love as much as often in my daily activities…..today.. I love you. One day you will gain the strength to no longer be ashamed of your story…until then I will speak for you, I dont mind. What are sisters for, right?
My prayer is that, just this once ,you listen to my father: What happened in your house, stays in your house…..including the pain and the shame. We’ve got other little girls to protect. No time for living in the past. Here, take my hand…..I’m with you as we walk out of our molester’s house. God bless!
Sincerely,
~*My Mother’s Daughter*~
This is the house where majority of it happened. On Pinebrook Dr in Montgomery,AL
NOTICE:If you read this.. LEAVE A NOTE DANGIT!!! W/ your rude behind!
Yes….another blog entry about weight… get over it.
So, one of my personal assistants, Andrew, and I have had long and drawn out text messages over the issue of weight. I hate to admit it…. but he brings forth some very good points….at very few times (lol). Yet, on some of his other points I need to know why he thinks that way because its hard for me to see a guy with amazing abs and body (did I mention his eyes?) hold a legit, equally balanced, and unbiased conversation about a person’s plight for being overweight. lol. [Wait, I hope that doesn’t constitute as sexual harassment since he is technically my employee…lol. Oh, hell, he’ll get over it. lol. ]Maybe that is a bias that I need to change within myself; the fact that you don’t have to be overweight to know where we’re coming from. Well, long story longer than the shorter version but shorter than the longest version….in response to my blog “Yes, I’m Fat… Thanks for Noticing” he made a good point that reminded me of an idea that I’ve had for years; Why are plus size people looked at as weak? Shouldnt we be viewed as the stronger persons in society for walking daily with our issues on our shoulders? Shouldnt we be the sought after ones for surviving through all of the ridicule?
If you havent read the other blog entry… CLICK HERE and read it to catch up, you slacker.
In the aforementioned blog I made the mention of how other people can hide their weaknesses and personal habits but that plus size people wear their issues on the exterior. We may eat in secret, or swallow pain and resentment covered in mango curry sauce…but everyone can still visually see our issues. Shouldnt the outward appearance of our issues be enough to say, “Here I am world. You know my problems now what are yours?” It would be like Intervention’s version of “You show me yours & I’ll show you mine.” Fear Factor for the dysfunctionally senile in denial! Those who are willing to walk to the closet of their issues and drape them with a beautiful umpire waisted belt and walk into the world the very same way that we do every day. See, walking to the closet every day , for the plus size woman who has accepted her plight and is not in denial, is more like preparing for a final exam or your thesis statement (just got another blog idea). What will this outfit say about me as it wraps itself around my already pronounced issues? I mean, there are tons of things that go through our mind as we get dressed, but in the end we walk out of the house with our heads raised high….some of us… and we face the world.
How ironic is it that the world would make the people who carry the most weight the physically weakest? Shouldnt my carrying these extra 70 pounds make me stronger? Well, yes, technically it does…just not in the same physical manner as the gym buffs without necks. We become emotionally stronger and self-sufficient in our lives. Many of us have the very things wrapped up in our post-Christmas dinner wrappings that several other people look for but aren’t willing to unwrap.
Picture this: (And this is not Skinny Chick Bashing but this is blunt Anti-Skinny Chick…lol.. I use to be one, so I can speak on it) A guy sees a fine, thin woman from across the room. He loves the way her curves appear, her assets are ripe for the picking and her womb is playing peek-a-boo behind a nicely Golds Gym ripped set of abs. This is what he loves. Now, as soon as she gets a little thicker, the birthing hips have now given birth to stretch marks and indent lines from the too tight panties she has suction cupped to her butt in hopes that this physical change will soon go away, he (not all but some) will no longer find her attractive. Phrases like, “Baby you’ve changed”, “You’re not the same woman I met” or “You’ve let yourself go” find their way into their relationship. Was he there for the woman’s personality or was he there for her looks? Because a woman will stay there when she is in love and watch his waist grown and learn to love that there is more of him.
Picture this #2: You have the hoodrat with the big booty, 2.5 kids or 5 abortions deep…which ever will make this more disgusting for you, living at home with her mama striving to be a model who SOMEHOW manages to get the business man who one would THINK had enough common sense to know that he needs a woman who is more on his level. Standing from my previous skinny chick position, even I would say that he was in it for the booty and he’d never marry her in his right mind. Some would say why would any woman want him in the first place? It is not necessarily that we would want him… we want his eyes to be opened to what he could have and is missing out on all for the love of booty. (Sounds like another VH1 Reality Show, right?) You have beautiful plus size women who would make sure that the home was taken care of, the man was head of household, a companion in both business and personal decisions who are intelligent beyond their years being passed up on a daily basis just because a guy can’t see himself with a full-figured woman. He is passing up the very qualities that a man is supposed to findth in a wife….not wifey…but a wife. See, something is not right with either of these pictures….. these scenarios are in need of a new photographer.
I say this, fellas…. in a plus size woman, if you look at the qualities that she has: is she intelligent, is she mentally stable, she doesn’t have 7 different baby daddies, does she have goals in life, etc…then you will begin to see what we see. Instead of worrying what your size 4 girlfriend is going to look like in 7 years…you’ll already know what we look like when we gain weight…lol. The surprise will be what will we look like should we ever decide to lose the weight for ourselves, but the surprise will never be that you have possibly gained a beautiful woman who is created from your dreams and crafted to suit your needs as she conquers her own world as well.
I understand that everyone has a preference that they are entitled to pursue, if you truly arent attracted, then you are exempt. I’m here to speak to the brothers that creep behind closed doors with the plus size sisters but wont take her out in public for one reason or another (all of the reasons may not be weight….but I see y’all taking the crazy as hell skinny chicks out in public while she shows out). You like who you like, and you don’t like who you don’t like, but I want guys to stop treating plus size women like the white girlfriend cooking bacon for a black muslim; a taboo. We exists, we are sexy, and we go through a lot just to fight to be treated less than equal. We run businesses, we dress to the nines, and we love life just like any other person because we are human as well……we just want to be treated as humans. We can put it on our husbands, whip up a meal and push out some gorgeous children too…all while being the true trophy on your arm. People will see our size, but they will also see the courage that it took for you to tell them all to fall face forward with their mouth opened wide on to the lap of the status quo and commence to Super Heading.
Super Heading-(verb) created by 2Deep on Sept 7th. Intended to suggest the actions perfected by Karrin Stefans aka Super Head. Filacio.
Fellas, can you imagine being a trendsetter?! Joining the brotherhood of the thousands of men who stopped being so friggin self-centered and shallow and finally found a woman who would have his back… who also happened to be plus size? Every size woman has her issues….but you’ll never know until you try. Stop asking if there are any real good women out there if you are only looking at 12 percent of the female population, whether it be size, skin tone, creed, or length of weave. There are some very attractive women out there who could be exactly what you are looking for…..the problem is that you’re not looking in her direction. She wears majority of her issues on her exterior…so if for no other reason to date her…. you know what you are getting into. You know that she managed to walk through the day exposed and may need a hug from you. But deep down she is still strong, not a victim, and not to be judged…she is human. At least treat her as such, and if all you see is a plus size woman who is unattractive,lazy, and not worth your time because she’s let herself go…think this….”at least she’s skinny standing next to your mama!” LMBO!!! (Thanks KaNikki!)
Now that I have your attention… welcome. The taboo sentiments that circle around the topic of homosexuality are enough to make me torch the nearest discriminating heterosexual with rainbow gasoline. Seriously, no matter what you think of the topic ,no one civil right should be trumped by one’s disapproval of another’s civil rights. Point, Blank, Period!
From the worst of America’s landfills to the Valentines Day Massacre, when walking into a women’s public restroom….you NEVER know what you will find next. I promise you that nothing ceases to amaze me at just how nasty these women can be.
VS. 
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NOTICE: If you read this.. LEAVE A NOTE DANGIT!!! W/ your rude behind!
~*2Deep*~ Uncensored! 