She wakes up feeling fucked. Fucked equals a feeling of intense migraine and vertigo and anterograde amnesia. Like most Sunday mornings, she tries her possible best to sit up but her limbs don't allow her to. They seem to have assumed a life of their own- a rather lifeless and surprisingly dormant life that's very much unlike her. Her vision gradually focuses and blurs, then focuses again. She stares at the fan dangling dangerously from the ceiling and wonders why there's a fan in her room. The last time she checked, her tips couldn't buy one. The migraine kicks in again. For one thing she realizes she's completely naked in a stranger's bed.
''But whose?'' her battered brain quizzes.Her mind desperately tries to replay the incidents of the previous night to no avail. ''Oh shi...'' the words feebly escape her lips. Her throat hurts.
Slowly, she turns her head and stares at the unshaven Caribbean male lying next to her. She wonders who this stranger might be. She takes in his handsome old face-the texture of his ebony skin and the arch of his brows. Clearly he's much better, in more ways than looks, than the Asian she woke up with the previous week. Her crotch hurts. Her brain seemingly begins to function again. She vaguely remembers entering Verbs with someone...someone tall with a scarf for a belt and a faded pink tweed jacket. Kofi! That asshole. She wonders how much he made this time. Two? Maybe three hundred. The last time he said he got only a hundred dollars from 'selling' her off to a Mongolian bussiness man who was passing through the country for the weekend. That was a lie of course. She had later found a check for two hundred in his trouser pocket.
''That asshole'', she mumbles under her breath,''He pimped me again!''
The man stirs in his sleep. He yawns and farts and slowly opens his eyes. He looks at her as though she were a little girl lost in time. She stares back. He closes his eyes and opens them again. She's still staring. There's something oddly enticing about the way he looks at her; as though his mechanical stares caress every inch of her body.
''Stop it'', she thinks, ''He's nothing but a client.'' Like all the others she'd had, the conversation with this new client went in similar fashion.
''Ou yuh are dis mawnin? he asks. She barely understands what he's saying so she remains quiet.
''Yuh nuh understand mi? he tries again
''Yes I don't understand you'', she replies and looks away from him to avoid his pungent morning breath.
''Fi mi bad. Lass night was gud doh''
''Okay. Are you going to tip me now?''. She was getting impatient of his small-talk. He wasn't her lover for Christ-sake; just a client. Just that.
''Yes, but mi want one mo ting. Mi want ah quickie.'' he says and gives another mechanical stare.
In her mind she knew she needed to be out of the room. She knew her three-year old boy needed her back at her grandma's. She knew her grandma was counting on her to bring back the money. Their rent was long overdue and they had finished up the last tuber of yam. Amidst her thoughts, he asks again,
''Do yuh want ah quickie or nah?'' She looks intently at this stranger for a moment, and then climbs atop him. He puts his hand behind her head and whispers into her left ear,
''Yuh are di man dem sugar.''
"We live in a world where losing your phone is more dramatic than losing your virginity."
-Megan Fox
If you happen to have read Tyler Perry's ''Don't Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings'', you should have a fair understanding of my post title. Granted it was published in 2007, the book still remains a delightful source of insight to the world of love and life. In a chapter of the book, Tyler Perry talks about ''holding the Frisbee'' and I find the phrase quite an inspiration for today's post. And by the way, by ''Frisbee'' he meant vagina. That's right! Clasp your hands over your cookie-jars ladies!
Virginity; now that's a very controversial topic. Honestly I find it as dicey as my first post on sex. I also find it amusing how the word 'virginity' has been misinterpreted to suite what people find comfortable. Objectively speaking, there's nothing entirely comfortable about virginity. Most people will cringe when asked about it. Look around and you'll find a lot of virgins living everyday with so much confusion in their heads. It's sad. There's so much ignorance in the system to clear up; so let's begin.
Growing up, I always knew what virginity was in the simplest of terms: NO SEX TILL YOU'RE MARRIED. That's what my mama always screamed. But is it all about desisting from only sex? A lot of people take advantage of this loophole-ridden rendition of what virginity is and engage in alternate forms of sex (talk about anal and oral) and sex-related activities. I think that's plain hypocritical. So to all those sanctimonious Christians who believe in the sanctity of staying a virgin and still go about sucking dick and Frisbees, I say, set your mind straight. I sorry I'm being blunt, but I just have to say it as it is- no sugar-coating this one.
I happen to believe in the sanctity of virgin-hood. I believe everyone should, if it suites them, stay a virgin for the right reasons. A lot of times I hear a lot girls say they want to see an ugly pool of blood on their weeding night. Some girls are just plain scared of sex and that's their reason for wanting to remain virgins. Some guys( not that I've heard any) want to stay virgins because they think they're members are too small. The point I'm trying to make here is, for whatever reason you want to remain a virgin, regardless of how silly or quaint it might sound, let that be your right reason. There's nothing like a wrong reason for staying a virgin.
Madea says every woman should learn to hold the Frisbee. Unless you're some weird nymphomaniac, you should seriously consider closing your thighs. Being able to hold the Frisbee gives you power. It puts you in control of your own life for once. There are so many perks of being able to hold the Frisbee. I leave you with ''8 reasons to remain a virgin for as long as you can'' posted in Allwomenstalk's blog. Enjoy!
“Men are emotional creatures. We like to cry, we
like to bond with our mates, we enjoy physical tactility. So all these
hyper-macho tropes are highly unnatural; it’s the ‘beta’ male that’s
the true version of masculinity.”
-Professor Eric Anderson
It's quite stereotypical how society crudely categorizes males into two very distinct groups; Alpha males and Beta males; with the Alphas supposedly at the top of the food chain, so to speak. The Alpha male represents the portion of male populace who posses more authority, power and financial means to accentuate them to the top of society's pecking order. Often, Alpha males tend to dominate and intimidate and are typically called 'real men'. The Betas on the other hand are the more submissive and often lowly males who aren't especially attractive to people, particularly those of the feminine variety. Beta males are seen as ever-ready to succumb to domination, even when the domineering entity is a female. Clearly, this crude classification of men puts the Beta male in a tight spot. The real question however, is if the Beta male deserves all this bogus ridicule being thrown at him. Frankly, he doesn't.
The Alpha male ideology basically stems from the animal kingdom. Man over the years has learned through observation, to inculcate into his lifestyle the intimidating and dominating behaviors of male animals that aid in mate-acquisition as well as securing power and control over subordinates. Many view this 'trait' as desirable and attractive but in retrospect, the Alpha male ideology has created a very bland view on what defines male machismo and what women truly find attractive in a man.The Beta male is usually viewed as emotional and sensitive. Thus, the Beta male is seen as conciliatory and synergistic-as opposed to the Alpha male's independence. But can we say that being collaborative is undesirable? Or that the openness and sensitivity of the Beta male is unattractive? That's food for thought.
What then do women find attractive in a man? Is it the bossy nature of a man that portrays him as being in control? Is it how well he exhibits social communication skills? Is it in how competitive he is at sports or how tall and well cut his muscles are? Could it be a man's sensitivity to a woman's needs? Is it how nurturing and attentive he is to her every desire? Or can it be the poetry and lyrics that he recites to her passionately? In my opinion, I say women find traits of the Beta male more attractive in the long run than those of the Alpha male. Here is my reasoning...
Having a man who is well-built, dominating and financially stable may seem like quite the catch to a girl but not to a woman. A woman is matured enough to realize that she needs a lot more than the superficial qualities of a man she views as a potential mate. She realizes that she needs emotional security and deserves a man who is psychologically in sync with her ideals. Thus she will opt for a Beta male because Betas are the Alphas of today. Betas, with all their sensuality and sensitivity clearly are the embodiment of the ideal man every woman would want to settle down with. this is because the Beta male is idealistic. He's content with who he truly is and as such he won't strive to 'prove his worth' through trivial means such as wanting everyone to know the number of zeros in his account or start a steroid diet, I'm
just saying.
The Beta male lets everyone see him for who he is; the kind, nurturing and emotionally reliable mate. I'm not saying money or being physically fit isn't good. I'm just saying the Beta male doesn't 'price' himself by profit or stature. To the Beta, its all about what's inside and women love what's inside.
It's been over two years but somehow the memory of you seems like it
was only yesterday's. I'm wondering where you might be and what you'd
probably be doing. I am sitting behind my laptop making my second blog
entry and I'm hoping you'd stumble across
this post- though I seriously doubt you would. I'm also not surprised
you never replied my messages on Facebook. I probably deserve it. I'm an
ass.
If someone had told me earlier that I have a thing for
plus-sized women, I'd probably have dismissed
such a comment and called the commenter an irritable fool. But you! You revolutionized my cravings and feelings. It seemed pretty fucked-up
back then, but in retrospect, fucked-up was so damn good.
So good that I still crave for women of your
stature. Sadly none seem capable of being you Constantine. I still
crave you.
Our infatuation although short-lived, seemed like a millennium's romance in this little pouch of dirt they call my heart.
Technically we were never a couple. But who had to follow
technicalities when all that mattered to us was the oneness of our
hearts and the euphoria in our minds. I could almost swear I 'almost'
loved you. Not because of your looks; because your looks according to my colleagues, were nothing to fancy; but because
I felt connected to you in ways more psychic than physical. Its just
sad dysphoria had to set in.
Sometimes I wonder if you had that
Bipolar thing going on. I mean some days you'd pamper me as though I was a
new-born and before I could say 'fuck', you'd
treat my sluggard ass like some ex-convict. It's sad just thinking about
it. I'm not laying all the blame on you though. Like I stated earlier,
I'm an ass. I think my ego got the best of me. I think.
People
say love goes where love is. I say love goes
where hate is. We had a love-hate thing going on. It's so crazy how
often we had issues. Damn girl you were so complicated I needed a manual
to be able to link-up your thoughts and properly discern them! It was
almost as if you had your period every fucking
day for every day we were 'together'. Now that's fucked up and
fucked-up was so damn good at the time. For the record, I pretty much
called you a bitch most times. You were my fat bitch and I was so into
you, I almost loved you.
Remember how your brothers
never liked me? Well I didn't like them either; not even the straight
one. But I liked you Constantine. I really did and I still do- I
like-hate you. Its a pity things had to end the way they did. Sometimes I
just wish I could go back in time just to see the
look on your face the very first time we met in person.That was some
Marilyn Monroe sexy-ass look you gave me. But the past is past. We're
both living out the present, with you probably more into future. I'm
just glad a psycho like you was a part of my life,
though I can't say you probably feel the same way about me. Hopefully
fate will pull us farther apart.
Yours truly,
Me.
What
is sex? It is crazy how a simple three-letter word like 'sex' can cause
so much controversy whenever it is mentioned. I quite remember
the very first time my little sister asked me what it was.
Yup. In my head i was thinking WT*! I wondered what would prompt a little seven-year old
to want to know what sex was. I probably almost yelled 'It's none of your business!'
Somehow
I felt I wasn't the right person to give her the
right answers. I mean I wasn't her mum and I definitely didn't do the
'in and out' thing (or sideways and diagonal things people do nowadays)
that produced her. So I simply told her I didn't know what sex was and
bolted. I cannot say I'm proud of how I handled the situation but I
was quite ignorant about sex myself. I knew what sex was of course. I
just didn't know how to answer her question.
Back then, sex was too dicey a topic to talk about. Fortunately times
have changed and the issue of sex is now less controversial in our
Ghanaian society. So let's talk sex!
What exactly is sex? It is a little difficult to say
what it is exactly considering all the new variances of sex which seem
to be springing up out of nowhere- nowhere being the western world. You could talk about oral or anal or outer-course
and it would all be branded as the same thing-SEX. The proper question
to ask therefore is ''What counts as sex?" To the best of my knowledge
sex involves two people (or 3 or 4...
)
giving each other sexual pleasure resulting in one or both partners
experiencing an orgasm. Since sex is such an intimate act, it is usually
(and should be) practiced between two consenting individuals [of sound
mind]. You really
don't want to wake up and find yourself in bed with a psychopath who
wants to eat you for breakfast! That's some Black Widow shit.
Sex
is everywhere. In the air, on land, underwater, maybe in space I think
(I'm wondering if there were any women aboard the Apollo 11 with Neil).
People have sex basically everywhere they can; movies, prisons,
elevators, in the Accra Mall washrooms and parking lots, swimming pools,
boats-everywhere they can! I remember asking my Life-skills (In Ghana we
do Life-skills not Sex Ed.) teacher why people had
sex. All she told was that sex was for procreation. But that's not the
only reason why people bang. When two people love each other, they have
sex (or made love) to express how they feel about each other. Although
both reasons are true, they aren't exactly the
most potent of reasons. Trust me I learned the 'sweet' way.
The
real reason why there is so much fuckery going on is because sex is the
greatest feeling
that simultaneously stimulates your senses in the most pleasurable
ways. I'm not saying 'Hey y'all, get up and start fucking each other 'cos
sex is the bomb.' I'm just saying what sex is. And besides, sex entails
more than physical contact and insertion
of a penis into a vagina. It involves a whole lot; the feeling of
oneness with your partner as well as the emotional and psychological
connection with him or her.
Talking
about the various controversies surrounding sex, a lot of people
associate their problems to it; granted they may be having
too little or too much sex. I know sex to be a lot of things but
definitely not the problem. Sex isn't keeping you from scoring an 'A' in
Maths or getting you late to work in the morning- It may seem like it's
because of sex but it really isn't. Sex doesn't
make your cooking taste like a mixture of cheese and ketchup or make
you smell like crap. Sex didn't give you a flat tire (or did it?
)
or a computer
virus ( porn probably did). Most problems you face, you face because of
your own actions. You probably wouldn't have had that flat tire if you
hadn't banged your 180kg partner in your car, right? Sex didn't cause
the flat tire, your decision to bang her (or
him) in your car instead of a bed caused it. I'm just saying.
Sex is great. Sex feels good when done at the right time. It pays to wait. But if you can't, ah well...Just
remember sex is a big
deal and you wouldn't want to rush into it if you aren't ready for it.
So evaluate yourself and organize your priorities. Does sex fall into
your short term goals? Or you'd rather wait and enjoy it at a time when
you're physically, emotionally and psychologically
mature to indulge in it? The ball is in your court. Choose wisely!
Sexfordatta (Facebook Page)
