Scribbles On: Relationships Vol. 2

Relationships in the boy-girl fashion are a peculiar animal. They are, hard work, they are complex, but, unfortunately for many facebook users, they are never "complicated". You're either in one, or you're not.
A committed relationship is pretty well defined. It doesn't require hours of explanation or qualification. Its very simple, so simple in fact that there are only three criteria the couple is required to meet. In meeting all three, the couple, no matter how casual they try to act, is in a serious relationship. In failing to meet, any one of these, however, no matter how many "I love you"s are uttered, these two are still, in a sense, seeing how it goes.
Up until these terms are met, either party is at liberty to end the arrangement without explanation or prior warning.

The talk: Without the talk, in a sense, making it official, you have nothing solid. Man and woman, or boy and girl need to sit down and have a serious discussion about what the situation means to them and how much each person is willing to commit to the other person. In business terms, this is referred to as a verbal contract, in the absence of which neither party can be held liable for the dissolution of the arrangement. It goes without saying that both parties must be on the same page and whatever agreement is reached must be acceptable and of value to them both.

Exclusivity: There is no such thing as an open relationship. Once again I apologize for bursting the facebook bubble. A couple that defines themselves as being in an "open relationship" are simply fuck-buddies. Sometimes they are really tight fuck-buddies, but fuck-buddies all the same and the one who believes that they are more than that is guaranteed to get hurt. It is completely and utterly impossible to be committed to one person at the same time that you're blowing someone else's back out (sounds absurd when I put it that way doesn't it?) Contrary to what most people want to believe, there is no such thing as no strings sex; just that sometimes the strings are not as taut. We leave a little piece of us with each person that we sleep with, and that's a piece of us that we cannot share with the person we're supposedly committed to. Not to mention the risk that one person will start to catch feelings with some other person thats making them come harder than you.


The fight: The true test of the resilience and sustainability of a relationship is the first major blowup. I read somewhere that you never really know a person until you have a disagreement. I'm going to take that one step further and say you're never really invested in someone until you're with them besides their differences. Through the expression of emotion, our true nature, and especially, our faults are revealed; even moreso the expression of the extremely volatile emotion that is anger. Raised voices, bulging veins, surging adrenaline and a reduced ability to control words and actions: this is where the true animal is unleashed, hurtful things are said, feelings are disregarded and trampled on...It is the couple's ability to rise above and pull through this that solidifies their relationship. I believe you never really have a person till they feel sufficiently comfortable with you to show you their weaknesses and the fight is the perfect avenue.

Committed relationships are serious business. There is a level of surrender involved that is not to be taken lightheartedly and as such they are not meant to be entered into until both parties are doubly certain that they are ready to bear that responsibility.

That's my take. What's yours?

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Scribbles On: Women don't fart...EVER!!!

Or so I was told. To which I smiled and dubiously nodded my acknowledgement. But, come on ladies, we all know its LIESSSSS!!!!

And guys, if you didn't know, let me tell you. Your girl's ass is just as nasty as yours. Probably nastier even, from holding the farts in for so damn long. I have a sister, and many female cousins, and I can tell you this is fact. Not theory, not a hypothesis but a proven, observed fact!

Women fart. Period. Actually I'd like to think especially then..hehe..but I could be wrong.

Anyway, you might ask what provoked this sudden attack on women's stank asses. (Sorry ladies, I know your asses aint stank.) Well let me tell you.

Sunday evening, getting some of that sunday evening "good good". She's on top, holding on to me tight as our bodies spasm in sync. She goes to get off and... **frappp**. Silence. I arch my eyebrow.

"That wasn't a fart", she says

"Ok", my mouth says. "Riiiiiiight", my eyes say.

"It wasn't!!!"

"Ok!" I paused. "Although, if it was a fart it's not a big deal. Farting is natural"

At this point she starts to get indignant.

"I DIDN'T FART!!"

So I decided to have some fun.

"What's the problem? Everyone farts, embrace the fart. In fact, *sniff* it doesn't even stink so you have nothing to be embarrassed about"

She punches me in the shoulder "That's cause I didn't fart!!"

I can see the desperation in her eyes for me to believe her, but I was having way too much fun. She was so flustered by the thought that I could believe that she was capable of letting one rip.

Baffling really.

To tell the truth, she probably didn't fart. It was probably the sound of the vahjayjay suctioning off the condom. But I was just incredulous at her total and utter chagrin at the thought of committing such a totally natural act.

Why do some women submit themselves so willingly to the slavery of this inability to express themselves? I have a friend who swears she never farts, except when she's in fits of laughter..sometimes. That may be true. But the question I have is why.

Actually, I have a theory:

Guys, you know those days when you're with your perfect little lady, who never, ever farts and you let one rip. It's cool cause you're a man and a man's gotta be a man, right down to his smelly farts. Until you realise, it's not cool. The stink hits you so hard you get whiplash, and you're like "where the hell did that come from? That couldn't have been my ass!!"
Well, it wasn't. It was that lovely little Stepford-ian minx you have by your side. She took the opportunity of the cover of your willy-nilly fart to plant her stored up, 3 week old monster, framing you.

Poor, unsuspecting, you.

And now you feel like you have to apologize to her for the stink that you believe emanated from your ass. She covers her nose, punches you in the arm and gives you that disgusted "why do you do these things?" look.

Ingenious, really.

There's a time to cry...

Inspired by Titilope Sonuga's Truth

Tears run down my cheeks
Body heaves in submission
To emotion
Soft sobs escape my lips
Interrupted by ear-shattering screams
In random intervals
No warning
Blow my nose, tissue box near empty now
But I make no attempt to stem the tears
No endeavour to quiet the screams
I wail, in total surrender
I cry, with utter abandon
I cry till there are no more tears
And then I cry some more
Not because I'm sad, or unhappy
Not because I have lost, or suffered defeat
Not because I am ashamed, or embarrassed
Hurt, or in pain
And these are definitely not tears of joy

These
Are tears of openness
Tears of release, of sincerity
I reclaim my innocence by
The melting of icicles formed around my heart
Over the decades of my human existence
And the purging of that poison
Begins with one tear shed
And then another, and, yet another
The tears come rapidly now
Free-flowing, cleansing, purging
And by the virtue of these salty tears
I am made free
Free in a manner, of which men are unaccustomed
Free of the shackles of machismo, of my gender defined composure
My heart made lighter with each tear that falls
Shedding burdens as teardrops
I...bawl
I...blubber and sigh
I...cry
Cry till I am made strong
Cry till I am made whole
Cry...till I am free
When was the last time you had a good cry?


Love (I think I have a man-crush)

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.



So, lately I've been looking into well known contemporary poets. I recently happened on Pablo Neruda and I'm hooked. Especially his love poems, the way he uses metaphor to describe so vividly his emotion. I feel like nothing I've ever written is worth anything. And he wrote it in Spanish!!

Anyway, ahem, my birthday's coming up...and I'm not one to ask for presents usually but the person that gets me Mr Neruda's Twenty Poems of Love and One of Desperation will forever have my love.

While we're on the topic of gifted poets, if you're in the Edmonton, AB area (Canada), check out slam poet Titilope Sonuga. I am truly honored to know this girl.

Nursery Rhymes

There once was a man named Sheamis
Who couldn't control his Penis
He let it go play
From Venice to Bombay
I tell you, this Sheamis was shameless

Then one day he went to pee
And it burned and stung like a bee
You see along the way
And, it's sad to say
Sheamis picked up an STD

Use a condom folks

Breathe

I have her in the palm of my hand
Clasped firmly but gently between forefinger and thumb
Stroking slowly, fluidly massaging as I whisper
Breathe
Her eyes close, her body relaxes, she breathes slow, deep
I immerse myself in my task
Fingers feeling, exploring, caressing
And I feel her body begin to tense
So I whisper
Breathe
And she relaxes that little bit
As middle finger joins forefinger and stroke speeds up
Rubbing against that spot, front wall, two inches in, you know the spot
Her breath quickens, her eyes roll back,
Fingers gripping the sheets
And I whisper my gentle command
Breathe
She whimpers
She doesn't hear me, her hips buck, her legs kick out at me
I dodge and deflect the blows, fingers still buried deep within her
And now she's lost control, tossing, turning
Popping, locking
She should be a break dancer the way she's throwing them shapes
Lurching forward, falling backward
Grabbing on to me as if for dear life
Trying to find a comfortable position
Trying to get away
Verging on pleasure insanity, she begs
"Please, stop"
I push her hair off her face, look her dead in the eye
"I will stop if that's what you really want"
At the same time, thumb lightly flicks her clit
The shudders tell, me its not
So I tell her to
Breathe
She collapses
In a heap of sighs, moans, gasps, little cries
Resigned to the fact that there will be no comfort
Only pleasure, at its most unbearable,
Legs jerking, back spasming, gushing deliciously around my finger
And I tell her to
Breathe
She screams

So, how was your friday night?

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Who was I kidding?

In an otherwise drab, meaningless existence. writing is one of the very few things that bring me joy. I can have the absolute worst day, but then the moment I put words down, my mood is lifted, my spirit lighter.

That said, I need a new spot (to chill, to meet people etc) and new acquaintances.

It occured to me over the weekend that my societal life, as it stands, revolves solely around three avenues;

Work, Blogging and Church (which the bloggers express disbelief at). YES I GO TO CHURCH!!!

i'm not a heathen :p

And then there's my (new) home which doesn't really count as societal living since I'm living by myself (woohoo!)

So where does this leave me when it comes to meeting new people?

Work: Can't really meet/date anyone at work. Can't let life interfere with my paycheck.

Blogging: I have met people of blogger, some hot ones too, but I'm a little skeptical about dating anyone that knows that much about me. If they'd even have me.

Church: And this seems to be where all the action happens. There's

-Daytona, the girl that had me in knots earlier in the year, looking like a romance about to be rekindled, but I'm not sure what to do here because I threw myself at it hard last time aroun, hit a brick wall and was broken. I don't want that to happen again. I just wish she'd stop looking at me with those piercing unreadable eyes.

- Frisco, who I'm cool with now, but dont know how long we'll be cool if I start dating someone else in the church.

-then there's young, always perfectly put together hottie Tamia, whose consistent flirtatious smiles and lingering hugs tell me something's afoot. Ok, it was actually a mutual friend that told me somethings afoot, but the other stuff backed it up. Helps that I've always had a thing for her, but my cousin (who is also her friend) warned me under penalty of something hideous to leave it alone. Especially with the earlier Frisco constraint.

So that's it. Those are my social spheres. Where will I meet women? I've lost the drive or will to go out of my way to meet anyone. Especially without a wingman.

Well, I guess there's the gym. Hmm, right, the gym! Where the women are trim, and fit and can *ahem* keep up. They even have poledancing classes at mine :)

Now I just gotta weed through the butterfaces.

Sony..saw the ad (going political)

I really shouldn't be putting up two posts in one day, but I saw the ad and just couldn't contain myself.

Seriously? Really? I am flabbergasted. I mean...are you for real??? You took offence at THAT?!?! I got to the end of the ad still waiting for the bit where Sony insulted my home country.

People are acting like Sony purposely made that ad in order to insult Nigeria. They are a sales company. They are selling products. And Nigerians....GET OVER YOUR DAMN SELVES!!!

I don't understand the self-importance many Nigerians have assumed. That whole "emi ke" attitude is terribly misplaced, I'm afraid.

The FACT is Nigeria is a corrupt, mismanaged republic. This mischief is instigated and propagated (kai, big big grammar) by the uppermost governments, piped through subsidiaries and filtered down to the majority of the constituents.

The FACT is there is a Nigerian man/woman/boy/girl sitting in a cybercafe at this very moment perpetrating identity fraud.

The FACT is that my spam filter is loaded with emails from "Nigerian Princes" on a daily basis.

The FACT is that many people in the Western world (let's not comment on their intellect) have been harmed by these scams.

The FACT is that our artists put out music like "Maga don pay", "I go chop your dollar"...."Yahooze"...yes, you know the dance to that one; and we happily accept them glorifying what is wrong with our country.

But let a people who have actually been adversely affected by the maleficence prevalent in our country comment...it's outrage. GET OVER YOUR DAMN SELVES!

-We laughed when they made fun of the Chinese for pirate DVDs

-We laughed when they made fun of Americans for being fat

-We laughed at the people that voted for Sarah Palin

-We laugh when they make fun of rednecks and hillbillies

But let them make fun of us? Outrage!!!

Are we really that proud a people? If so, and I ask this in all sincerity  because I may not be fully informed, what have we to be proud of? I would really appreciate an answer if anyone sees it fit.

------------------------------------------------------

A Proud Nigerian who isn't proud of Nigeria

Making Amends

So I've been thinking about my sinking ships. The friend-ships and relation-ships. I've been thinking about my attitude toward them and I think it's necessary to make amends in some cases. You know, plug some holes.

Let me explain. I come with a disclaimer.

"Don't get your emotions involved with me because I am emotionally unavailable and since I have let you know this upfront, I remain blameless if you refuse to heed this advice".

I have lived by this. And I have hurt people with my "you do you, let me do me- you don't own me" attitude.

Case-in-point: Frisco.

My B-U-D-D-Y. SHE set the tone of the engagement "I'm not looking for anything serious". I concurred. A little further down the line, she wanted to be exclusive. I (grudgingly) agreed. And then, after a particularly busy week for me where I hadn't been in touch for a while, this conversation occured on facebook.

Hi, how are you doing?

I'm good, you?

Good, what have you been up to?

Work and other stuff. Been swamped this week.

Ok (long pause) I think we should take a break, for a while.

Umm..Ok, mind if I ask why?

...(pause..no reply)

Ok, if that's what you wanna do.

(long pause) I'm really sorry to be doing this on facebook. Hope we're cool

It's cool. We're good.

And that was that, I would miss the sex, but she would have her reasons I thought. Then a few days later on facebook.

Hey

Hey

I'm really sorry about the way I ended things. I hate people that do things like that on facebook. I didn't mean to do it like that

It's ok

It was just a spur of the moment thing.

lol..really, it's ok

(pause) so i take it you're not really bothered then

(at this point i'm thinking "hmmm, i have to be careful how I respond to this")

I'm sure you had your reasons, I'm choosing to respect them.

A couple of weeks pass, then I get this text.

"I miss you, but I'm not really comfortable to going back to the way things were. If you don't want anything 'official' it's cool, we can just be friends'

I'd had a bad day so I may have been a bit hasty when I replied;
"I don't think I'm in a place where I can commit right now, I want us to be friends tho"

So here's the thing. One could argue (and I have) that I did nothing wrong. But I know, if I really think about it, that I was wrong a lot of times. I was an asshole because I knew there were feelings, and I ignored them. Played the "you were warned" card.

I do similar things in my friendships. While I don't actively hurt people, I hurt them with my inaction and my total lack of emotional investment.

So, I have a few amends to make.

My Jay-Z style retirement...(A "once great Nation")

I've come out of retirement to say a few words on a topic that Toluwa discussed in her last post and further a comment Tairebabs made.

I should start off by saying (so I'm not crucified) that I'm proud to be Nigerian...wrote this if u doubt it.

Nigeria is getting a lot of bad publicity lately, true.

Nigeria is undeserving of such riducule, false.

If you ask me, what you see is what you get with our "once great nation". Nigeria is a country that has been constantly sliding down the slippery slope of corruption, greed and duplicity since the time she was made a republic.

At least she's consistent.

The reality is, our country has very little left to be proud of. I for one am simply proud because I was created in God's image, Nigerian, therefore, there must be good in us.

My low opinion of our motherland has absolutely no bearing, however, on Nigerians. Some Nigerians.

There are many upstanding Nigerian citizens and those are the people I respect and am proud of. You will never see those people covered in the news though. Those people will never get the publicity that our most degenerate get.

Why?

Because, in the words of Chris Rock, "that's what you're supposed to do".

Just like ducks on a lake aren't newsworthy, honest, law-abiding citizens aren't exactly "Breaking News".

I'm yet to see this Sony ad that seems to have everyone up in arms. But I doubt I'll be perturbed by it. If the things it highlights are true, who am I to be insulted by truth?

So I will continue to be proud of my upstanding brothers and sisters and MYSELF for being the best Nigerians we can be and showing the world the good our people are capable of. But as far as my country Nigeria is concerned... I have only indifference.

She don't want me, she's so sexy

I'm taking a break from women.

Yes, you heard me. I'm taking a break from women. What you didn't hear me say is that I'm taking a break from sex. I no crase.

What to write, what to write...

Dear Friends,

It would seem I have run out of stuff to write. Not stuff to write about, no, I have plenty of those. Its the actual words that elude me.

So, without much ado, (barring any sudden bouts of inspiration) I will be retiring my pen/keyboard. Thank you all for reading while it lasted. We had a good run.

Fare well my friends.

Scribbles

Friends & Lovers contd

this post continues from here

By the time they walked through the front door of her apartment, she had said possibly 10 words to him. She tried to scold herself.

*Come on Uche, you've wanted him here for months. And now he's here. Flirt with him a bit. What's wrong with you*

She had her back to him, still too nervous to meet his eyes. Then there was a hand on her shoulder. He turned her around, lifted her face gently and brought her lips to meet his.

She froze for a second. Then she melted into his lips.

He kissed her, soft and light, brushing against her lips with a calm intensity, making her lips quiver with desire, her body trembled with delight. He pulled away.

She opened her eyes a couple of seconds later to find herself staring into his. In them she saw an intensity and a fierceness that frightened her a bit.

He placed his hand gently, but firmly on her neck and pushed her into the wall. And then he attacked her. Soft lips kissed her roughly as his tongue probed deep inside her mouth. She countered, wildly assaulting his tongue with hers.

His rough hands caressed her body with savage lust, grabbing roughly at her breasts, pinching her nipples. The sharp pain made her gasp and she felt a trickle run down her leg as he ripped open her blouse. Her buttons clattered to the floor and her blouse fell apart to reveal her magnificent, firm, supple breasts, black lace Victoria Secrets barely covering her nipples.

At this point she knew she had to regain control of the situation; if he touched her breasts, she would no longer have the power, will or the composure to stop him. She bit his lip and turned him around, pressing into him as she pressed him into the wall. She raised his Tshirt over his head as her hungry lips roamed his strong chest, his chiselled abs...made her drool, at both ends. She dropped to her knees and undid his belt in one swift motion. His boxers came off as well and she took him in her hand, stroking up and down the shaft. And then she licked the tip and ran her tongue all the way to the base, sucking on his balls as she stroked him. She came back up and plunged his stiffness deep inside her mouth, to the back of her throat. She teased him mercilessly with her tongue and lips until he slowly began to lose control, fucking her mouth until he came. Hard. And now, it was his turn.

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her again. He picked her up and set her on her dining table. A bowl of pot pourri went clattering to the ground. He pulled her skirt off and was delighted to see she wasn't wearing any panties. He pulled her back up to him and met her lips one more time, expertly flicking thumb and forefinger to undo the clasp of her bra. The danced free and he took a moment to appreciate them with his eyes. Then he cupped them in his hands as he kissed her neck, his lips and tongue tracing elegant lines from her collarbone to her breastplate. He kissed her breasts, lips playing joyfully over her bountiful bosom; taking her nipples in his mouth one at a time, biting them gently. She moaned deeply, eyes closed, her hands on his head, guiding him lower.

He kissed her stomach for what seemed to her like centuries, but must have only been a few seconds. He sucked on her inner thigh, breathing softly over her clit. He parted her lips with his fingers and gave her one long lick. She gasped as his tongue went to work. A whirlwind of activity, plunging deeper within her with each stroke, forcing her back to spasm and her lips to to quiver with the obscenities they expelled.

Her legs shook uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure coursed from his lips into her and vibrated to her extremities. She shook with an intensely violent orgasm as he slammed his dick into her the first time, taking it out slowly, gently, he stroked the tip along her slit, making her quiver. And then he plunged hard, deep inside her again, repeating the same manouver, over and over, until she pulled him close and whispered in his ear.

"Fuck me; hard".

They fucked with such intensity, such fervor, they hardly noticed when the table came crashing down. He picked her up and they fucked against the wall, on the kitchen counter; she rode him on every sofa in her living room; he ravaged her doggy style with her elbows on the coffee table and her legs crossed behind him.

They came together on the floor, in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, their sweat and other bodily fluids streaked accross the apartment, telling the story of their union.

She gazed out at the debris, the destruction they’d left in their wake. Mouth agape; she was still in shock.

Her mind was a jumble of bright lights and crashing waters and she was still struggling to collect her thoughts when he pulled her hair back and whispered in her ear.

“Hi”

She reluctantly came back to here, to now; on the floor her head on his chest, his arms around her, his fingers in her hair.

“Hey”, she smiled. “That. Was. Amazing. But I think you’re going to have to buy me new furniture”.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Yup!

I just scrolled back through my blog feeds on blogger dashboard and, yup, the last post I read was over a week ago. I must apologize.

I look at your blog posts and go, "Oh that looks interesting" and then I close the page. Dont worry tho, summer will soon be over and this lethargy that has consumed my will to read will dissipate. Till then, hasta luego amigos y amigas

Friends and Lovers

It had started off innocently enough. Friends in high school until they went to college in different cities. They had kept in touch though, finding as they matured that they shared a lot of the same unorthodox opinions about life.
They became best friends, or as much best friends as a thousand miles of separation would allow. They talked about their lives and their loves, their hurts and their regrets. They shared almost everything.
Then the pressures of life began to take their toll and, inevitably, they drifted apart.
They had only got back in touch recently. She just over a bad break-up and him being the wet shoulder.
And once again, they talked about their lives and their loves and their hurts and their disappointments. And sex.

It started innocently enough. Light flirting interspersed with cleverly placed innuendo. Gradually progressing until one day, she found herself getting wet to the sound of his voice. She thought about him that night and fell asleep with her fingers in her panties.
The next day he announced that he would be in her city on business and that it would be nice to catch up.
This was conflicting news for her. On the one hand, she would get to see her long-time friend again for the first time in nearly a decade. On the other, seeing him might ruin the perfect fantasy she had dreamt up about him. And of even more concern, he might blow it out of the water and blow her mind. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
After his announcement, they had descended to levels of verbal titillation that would make a phone sex operator blush. Their conversations always ended with one or both of them irresistibly turned on and the anticipation grew within them like a swelling wave waiting to crash with the force of their simultaneous orgasm.
And now the time had finally come. He was on a plane headed in her direction. He would be touching down any minute now and she crossed her legs to contain the longing welling up between her thighs. Any second now, he would walk through the glass doors to the left of where she sat. Any second now.

*********
He walked along the moving walkway deep in thought. He would be spending a few weeks in this city. Away from work for most of it and he planned to make the best possible use of the time. He planned to have fun. So he had planned and plotted and charted the perfect holiday. And now he mulled over the details as he walked. So engrossed in his plan was he that as he walked through the glass doors and into the lobby, he nearly missed her.
He saw her smile out of the corner of his eye, he turned to look and there she was. A vision in a low cut blouse. 36DDs staring out at him, he smiled back at her.
"Hello Uche."
"Hello Akin."

He hugged her, and didn't let go for what must have been at least 5 minutes. She smelled like vanilla and he began to feel himself stir. He let her go.
She wouldn't meet his eye the entire drive back to her apartment. She kept her eyes on the road even though he knew she knew he couldn't take his eyes off her. He had expected this though and he let her be for the time being. He closed his eyes, reclined his chair and took a nap. He would need his energy for what was coming.

TBC..

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Got the (creative) juices flowing again

(This is a preview)

She gazed out at the debris, the destruction they'd left in their wake. Mouth agape; she was still in shock.

Her mind was a jumble of bright lights and crashing waters and she was still struggling to collect her thoughts when he pulled her hair back and whispered in her ear.

"Hi"

She reluctantly came back to here, to now; on the floor her head on his chest, his arms around her, his fingers in her hair.

"Hey", she smiled. "That. Was. Amazing. But I think you're going to have to buy me new furniture"

'Round the world in 8 women (Options contd)

Hong Kong is a smoking hottie. I had a slight crush on her last year while at uni, but it was complicated. Her (crazy) friend seemed obsessed with me. Nightly 4am calls because she "just wants to talk to me", but she had nothing to say... yea I wasn't trying to date a 13 year old. Plus I wasn't interested in her. I was even less interested in carrying a conversation i hadn't initiated at 4am. But I digress.

Hong Kong, on the other had was the good kind of crazy, the fun kind of crazy. The kind of crazy that causes her to get a few of her girls together to jump me and put hoop earrings through my (no longer used but still open) earlobe piercings. She was fun, she was intelligent, and she had a killer bod which she LOVED to show off; very low cut tops that stopped short of her navel, shorts, minidresses and the like. But she still looked stunning in a t-shirt and sweats. So yes, I was crushing a little, but my aversion to drama dictated that I let it go.

Bucharest cancelled a date last monday and I called Hong Kong, we chilled. She's put on a couple of pounds, but still looks fantastic. According to her, she had fun and we should do it again, soon, and often. She's also no longer friends with crazy juvie chick. So... We'll see.

Shanghai is a complicated one as well. For a couple of reasons. One is that she is friends with Hong Kong. I don't think they're that close, but they would at least make small talk at a gathering. I actually debated putting her in here because when I wrote the first part of Options, Shanghai was definitely in the running; she was actually half the reason I started writing it. Now, however, not so much. A few reasons:


  • She is trying to be a devout muslim. Now you all know how I feel about religious women.

  • She is a virgin. Made that mistake once before. Never again.

  • This is going to sound kinda mean. I met up with her last week (I had missed her). When I left, she texted me


"You make me feel weird. When I don't see you I'm fine. But when I do see you, I want to see more of you"

That was great, except that the more I saw of her, the less I wanted to see. This isn't due to a dislike of her by any means. There is a chemistry, an undercurrent that runs between us. When I'm around her, I want to touch her, hold her, kiss her. But every logical bone in my body screams against it, leading to a lot of frustration. So I think it's better to close the chapter, compartmentalize the emotion. Determine in my head that it's never going to happen. So, I guess, we wont see.

You already know of the hotness that is Sin(yes, its a city, fictional or no). Long toned legs, soft chocolate skin, firm DDs and an ass that was created on an OCD day. Yes, I think I may have mentioned the hotness. Sin is newly single. We have a history, we have chemistry and she keeps asking for another "massage". She's a little joker, that one. Again, she's out-city, which dampens my motivation a bit. But ...We'll see

And then there was Frisco. Frisco is my current squeeze and, to be honest, is head and shoulders ahead of the rest. Quite literally. She's nearly 5ft10. She's this chick. But we sorted that. Legs that literally go on forever, like f'real they never end, miniscule waist and the cutest little booty. She's totes hotness. (Ignore that last sentence if you're not Lowlah). She's one of the very few women who haven't begun to piss me off immediately after we've had relations. She lets me be me, all the while not forgetting to be her. The exclusive B.U.D.D.Y thing isn't so bad. Although it wasn't so easy when she was away for 3 weeks, but I get where she's coming from. Oh and did I mention, el sexo es incredíble. So... We're seeing.

Options

If you were to ask me today what the predominant reason for my singledom is, my reply would be "Options, and the anticipation thereof".

Some people might suggest that it's simply down to a fear of committment. But I argue that its a more deep seated fear of settling. And as long as I have my options, it remains easy to avoid that which I fear. Some of you(Lowlah) have been privy to my weekend options/"dilemmas".  I'm going to give you all a more cursory overview. (Some names are changed in the interests of privacy and uniformity. I will be naming them after cities (not necessarily the ones that they're in)).

And we'll start with Dublin: eyes, legs and a perfectly round booty of toned muscle. Thick, soft, luscious lips always glossed.Met her at a friend's event, we talked for a bit, but she's out-city so she's sort of a minor right now. She's promised to come visit though, so how it's gonna go... We'll see

Another out-city one is Brooklyn...I first met Brooklyn a couple years ago on a bus. Her cousin was actually the one to approach me. I hardly noticed Brooklyn at the time. She was shy, young looking and honestly quite plain. I ran into Brooklyn again last month. My lord, she's grown! A knowing, confident smile, a walk that's mean like Simon Cowell, and a body that looks like she walked out of a Ludacris video. She called me a week ago out of the blue.

Hey, I'm going to be in london soon, we should hook up

Definitely. When?

Not sure, I'll let you know (yada yada yada, small talk, light flirting)

So how's the boyfriend?

Oh, he''s somewhere

*Antennae perk up* What do u mean? You haven't heard from him?

Well he's in Jamaica, I think he's coming back next weekend or something. I don't know. To be honest I don't really feel like I have a boyfriend. I feel like I'm borrowing him.

*Smile*In that case, maybe I can borrow you from him.

She laughed. We flirted a little more. I told her I wanted to show her what I use the entire wall of mirrors in my bedroom for. We'll see.

Bucharest is another one that's been in a relationship the whole time I've known her. Until now. Sexy little Romanian thing with a ghetto booty and killer legs. She gets *side-eye* from a LOT of black girls when she walks down the street. And she's a fiend for black men, preferably West African. We'll see.

Then there's Vegas. Fun, witty, confident, highly sexual, untamed. Smile like summer, legs to the high heavens, a fashionista, she is definitely eye-candy. She is also very aware of how hot she is and as such she freely exercises her right to be chased. The challenge. Shore salivates at the prospect of her. D gets weary. Met her a week ago at the clothing store where she's a sales assistant. We've been on one drinks date. Where it goes from here? We'll see.

Phew! And I'm only halfway through. Be back with the rest

Soundtrack to this is "Where I wanna be" - Donnell Jones

I usually make a point of not promoting peoples events...

but the cerberus es mis hermanos estimados so...

**************************************************************************
THE EVENT
****************
Okay, you have been on the grind all week...
You've had your ass whupped and kicked...
All because you are a working man...
It's Sunday and tomorrow it starts all over again...
You need a BREAK!!!!
YOU NEED TO CHILL AND RELAX
You need to be treated to AN EVENING OF POETRY, SPOKEN WORD, COMEDY & GOOD MOOD MUSIC before you run-off to restart the cycle which is your week.

****************************************************************************
THE VENUE:
*****************
Bambuddha Restaurant & Lounge aims to set a new standard in fine dining as befits the setting. The fresh modern and stylish design combined with a rich ambiance that envelopes guests upon entering.

****************************************************************************************
THE MENU:
***************
The menu has been created by Executive Head Chef, Mr Paul Fitchet balancing exquisite presentation of “Mediterranean” cuisine with South American influences, with reasonable prices. He has created a truly delicious menu, which accompanied by a unique wine list and well conceived cocktails can be savored in our glamorously designed space.

Your Ticket gives you access to an offering of:
*Satay Peri Peri Chicken Wings
*Assorted springrolls
*Teriyaki Pork Ribs
* Jacket in Prawns

and the options of:
*Soft drinks
*Chilled Juices
*House white
*House red

THE FULL BAMBUDDHA MENU IS AVAILABLE ON REQUEST.

******************************************************************************************
TICKETS AND RESERVATIONS:
****************************************
To maintain the ambiance and aesthetics, Chill and relax has limited reservations.

To make your reservations, call 07029344882 or send your e-mail to chilletrelax@gmail.com with the subject : Chill and Relax Booking.

Alter Ego

Meet Shore.

Well actually, you already met Shore. If you've read any of posts about sex or seduction, you've met Shore.

I've had an alter ego since the time when people generally develop alter egos. Puberty.

Back then, as you all know, I was a shy kid, quiet, wishing I was one of the cool kids. Seemed they had so much more fun. They talked to the girls. They weren't invisible.

So I invented Seyi, my twin brother, class clown, cheeky, confident. Everything I wanted to be (fake it till u make it eh?). Seyi wasn't invisible. He was anything but. He was deadly on the basketball court, and a hit with the ladies.

But he was still fake, so in intimate situations, ones that required emotive involvement, he was nowhere to be found. As a result, it was easy to get a girlfriend, but then I hadn't the slightest clue what to do with her. So it was safe to say Seyi was of no real use to me at that point, but he was there, watching, observing, learning.

Fast forward a few years. I started watching Boston Legal and Seyi finally found someone he could really learn from. Alan Shore became our mentor. He was everything we both wanted to be sans the aetheism, the fat and the mild psychosis (we had our own psychoses(sp?) to deal with). He was smooth, passionate in his beliefs, ruthless, a humanitarian, and loyal to his friends. He was also a sexual deviant. He was perfect.

Over a five season gestation period, Seyi was reformed, recalibrated and eventually reborn as Shore. Smooth, passionate, ruthless, sexually depraved Shore. I, D,adopted the humanitarian edge and the loyalty. The whole essence of the Bachelor's Conundrum is the struggle between my two egos. I'll let them introduce themselves.

D

I'm the poet, enamored by women, nothing but respect for them, putting them on a pedestal even. I am the hopeless romantic, the dreamer, the "together forever" guy. When I talk to a woman I look into her eyes; trying to find her soul. I work everyday to be a better man. A man who will continue to strive to be worthy of my woman's love till the day I die. This said, I am also aware of my worth and will not settle for anything less than that woman's best. I love God and thank Him everyday for grace, because I know I'm going to need it with Shore. I'm embarrassed to say I still get tongue tied around beautiful women sometimes, so I need Shore.

Shore

I study the Kama Sutra, D might refer to me as sex obsessed but I prefer to think of myself as more of a sex  and seduction scholar, constantly working on improving my technique. I sometimes talk to women with a glint in my eye and a cheeky smile. You could say I'm obsessed with long legs and skinny waists and will literally stop midsentence and do an about face if a cute set walked past me.

We have the same objective in mind. To find the perfect woman. Here's a classic conversation between D and Shore.

D: I need a woman who is smart, creative, funny, open-minded, effortlessly hot (but not averse to putting in a little effort every now and then),  pretty eyes, smile like a thousand lightbulbs, and a hot body.

Shore: yea and she better fuck like a pornstar.

It's an unusual but comfortable alliance, the two of us. We complement each other.

D is here to remind Shore to always treat women with respect even when he's behind her with her face in the pillow. Shore is here to ensure we get behind her with her face in the pillow :p.

And there you have it. These are the personalities that co-exist (peacefully for now) within my head. A few other tidbits of information regarding the twins.

-Shore, whilst being continually open to new experiences, can be quite methodical sometimes. He requires a clear head to ensure optimum use of his analytical mind. So he only drinks Coke and Rum. He finds that this drink loosens him up a little but does not impair his ability to think and act. Every now and then, someone comes along with a few cocktails, Shore retreats and D makes an ass of himself. Always within reason, as Shore pulls him back if he's about to do anything REALLY dumb.

-Shore doesn't do much writing in the summer... too many fine women about. D is more the introspective one. Don't expect too many steamy posts this summer.

...If somewhere within this post you managed to find the point of it, please let me know

Reverse Beer Goggle Retina Replacements

...For the woman who just isn't taking any chances.

So you just got married, or you just got into a serious relationship. He's smart, funny, good looking, successful, loves you completely and he's a s faithful as he can be. And you love him more than you thought you could ever love a human being. He's "The One".

But he's still a man. And as long as there are pretty girls out there, you cannot be a 100% sure he won't wander. The XY chromosome in him has programmed his eyes to follow every long legged, smooth skinned, large breasted, badoonk-bearing woman they rest on and then it becomes a battle between his love for you and that thing that dangles between his legs. And let's face it, these days, your odds aren't great.

That's where we come in.

The Reverse beer goggle retina implants are engineered to make every woman that isn't you appear remarkably less attractive than she really is. Very much the opposite of the effect beer/beer goggles have.

Just think. When your man says "You're the most beautiful woman in the world", he will actually mean it. And not that rubbish cliché "mean it because I love you so much" but he'll mean it because its the only truth he knows.

So get him in today. It just might be the best decision you ever make.

Side Effects include:

-Him wondering why your daughter is so damn butt ugly

-A change in his perception of beauty if he's susceptible to pop culture

-Oily discharge (ok we're kidding about that one)

-Blindness

Available now.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Since no1 got the symbolism...

Synopsis

Starring...

Richard 'Dick' Dangles aka Penis
Tasha 'Puss' Yoordekvolov pronounced Touch her puss your dick fall off

A story about STD's. No, there is no point to the story. Its not a true story, just something my imagination cooked up in bed.

More clues and Atypical Fridays

I'm actually quite surprised noone got the hidden meaning behind my Bedtime story. It was actually meant to end there, but I'm going to add a little bit to it. Look for the further hidden clues.

Dangles stared at her, not sure how to proceed. On the one hand, he was very interested in the high she offered.  On the other, he knew the risks of indulging her.

She sensed his hesitation. She leaned over and held out her hand.

Tasha. Tasha Yöordekvolov.

Ah, he thought, the Slovenian. He'd heard about her. 'Round these parts she was known simply as 'Puss'

His first impression of her had been accurate. And his resolve was made firm by this revelation.

He took her hand.

Thanks Tasha, but no thanks.

***

Surely you get it now...

In other news, I had the time of my life this friday night. I love london.

So I'm walking through Bank station, making my way home and there's a busker (musicians play at various stations around london). A guitarist, he plies his trade well, plucking out notes and tunes that are literally, music to the ear.

But he wasn't the one that caught my attention. There was this beautiful black girl sitting on his amp belting out some Ray Charles. Her voice, powerfully gorgeous, her eyes closed, mouth open, elegantly stunning. I couldnt help but stop and stare.

I watched them for a couple of minutes. Then she noticed me watching.

Look we have a fan! she giggled. Come, come! her accent was sexy.

I obliged.

You're going to sing with us *huh?* Yes, yes you will sing.

And thus began the best hour of music I've ever had, we went from blues to soul to neo-soul, she  even did a freestlye de la francais.

Unfortunately, it had to end. But not before she gave me her number.

That was my random act of the week. What was yours?

A man died

Earlier this evening I heard the news that's likely to be on the front page of the Metro tomorrow morning. "Michael Jackson dies from cardiac arrest". Within 5 minutes of hearing this news, I heard things that made me mad.

"Who cares about Michael Jackson man?" and the one that took the cake; "Really? That's great news"

I was in shock. People a man just died. I mean I've never really been a Jacko fan. But... A MAN DIED. A man like any other man. A man with a family, friends, people that loved him, people that he loved. And all you can offer is a "who cares"?

Legend or not, paedophile or no, his was a life still precious. As precious as any one of ours. His was a life.

And for someone to just dismiss, and even rejoice in his death. That's just foul.

A man is dead. Show some respect.

On the flip side, a man died. Life goes on. Why are people going crazy.

The only certain thing in life is death. Yet everyone is so surprised when it happens.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Bedtime Stories (Pilot Episode)

So I'm trying something new. I've said I wouldn't be able to blog as often because I have to work. Well, I'm trying a work around to that.

From tonight onwards, for as long as I'm moved to do it and on nights when I'm not too tired to, I bring you Bedtime Stories by me, Scribbles

Brought to you by my Blackberry.

Basically, this will consist of me getting into bed every night and typing up a story, by the light of my Bold.

I will then post these (whatever it is unedited and uncensored). If the story isn't completed, I will pick up where I left off the next night. Comprende amigos? Si? Muy bien!

Disclaimer: these stories are written lying on my back, tired out of my mind and sometimes, inevitably drunk. As a result, I take no responsibility for them being inarticulate, incomplete or inconsistent.

Otherwise, enjoy.

...

Richard Dangles had seen a lot of things in his time. He had been in and out of a lot of messy situations, some might argue he had his part in creating the mess, but through it all he had remained upright. He had remained firm.

He once famously declared that all he had were his principles, his principles and his balls. And he would be damned if he let anyone compromise them.

That was until (and of course its always until a woman) she walked into his bar that cold and rainy Sunday afternoon. He knew she was trouble the instant he laid his eyes on her.

Yet he was drawn to her. He found himself channelling Bogart "of all the bars ...".

But he could tell she wasn't right. He knew she had been around the wrong crowd, he could smell them on her, they had soiled her, corrupted her with their generosity.

And she had graciously accepted their gifts, willingly bought into their corruption and when they knew that she was completely theirs, she became their dealer.

She strode determinedly in Dangles' direction and sat on the stool next to him. She lit a cigarette and turned to face him. In the dim light, she looked even more alluring up close.

She looked straight into his eyes and smiled. "Wanna have some fun tonight?"

*************************************************************

The sharp and carnally minded among should have noticed something by now. 10 gbosas for the first person that tells me what this story is really about (not you Miss Lowlah)

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Holy Crap! I'm a man!!

I know, I know. Mr Dangles B M* Legs should have clued me to that fact a couple of decades ago.

But that's not what I mean. All my life I've prided myself on being a man working with a woman's mind chilling in a mans body.

Ok, that might need a quick explanation.

Growing up with 4 girls plus my grandma (making 5 females) and having the ever inquisitive and observant mind that I have, I learned to understand women, I learned to think like they think and I learned to understand their hidden meanings.

But most importantly, since I still remained unequivocally male, I learned to see both sides of the coin. Male issues from a female perspective, female issues from a male perspective and so on.

Most relevant to today, I prided myself on not being a subscriber to the double standard. Logic precludes it. And I am nothing if not conclusively logical. Until now.

It's LOML. Logic throws itself out the window when LOML walks in the room. Everything is different with her.

I find myself saying things I would never say, doing things I would never do, thinking things I would never think...feeling things I've never felt.

And now, as stupid as this may sound, I find myself starting to understanding the double standard where a man feels like he can do whatever he wants, but his woman needs to remain "pure".

Don't get me wrong. I don't think that way, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when she told me this morning (about midnight in her time zone) that she had a male visitor over.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for any amount of time will know that LOML also reads this blog, and thus, knows all about my numerous...ahem. I can hear the ladies asking now "Ehen?! How do you think she feels reading the stuff u write about?"

Maybe you're right. Or maybe men are just made extra insecure. Or maybe..

Or maybe something needs to be done...forget all this "when the fates align" nonsense. Truth is, I love this woman.  I really do. Maybe I need to make a move, take a stand, make a decision.

Or maybe I'm just being a man...

*B M = Between My



Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

double entendre

ebony beauty...lips pure..spread chocolate kisses
her soothing voice would cure this affliction
this love, this addiction, in addition
her skin, dark, clear, soft, firm, giving off
the aroma of passion, purely aphrodisiac
aphroditie, sovereign beauty, treat me, heal me
take me, feel me,
lift me, body soul and spirit, take me to cloud nine
using only ur lips, grace me with their supple kindness
engage me with intimate secrets, come into this secret place
i seek ur face, i want ur presence, in need of ur essence
possess me, let me possess you, undress you, let me bless you
lets take it slow, lets make it go all nite
let me show u me, show me you, tonite
let me show u how, letz do this now
letz share this elevation
letz have.... a conversation

Something's happened...Something bad

I don't know how or when it happened. I don't know why or what caused it.

All I see is the effects. All I see is the results of this thing that happened.

Some of you may have noticed. A few of you might already know.

If you have, can you tell me why? Or what?

No, I haven't lost my mojo...or have I?

I haven't lost my ability to turn a phrase... or have I?

Is it writer's block when you have a topic, a theme, content, a plot, a sequence (a few of them too)...but no words?

Is it writer's block when you find yourself leaving inarticulate, unintelligent comments on other blogs?

Or just skipping the commenting altogether to avoid sounding like a total twat...

There isn't much I outrightly fear...but I fear this... God, I fear this (forgive me Lord)

I value my intelligence, my creativity, my wordsmanship...above any of my other qualities

And to lose that...my fingers tremble over the keyboard at the thought

Trepidation intensified by the fact that after years of soul-searching, I finally defined myself as a writer.

What is a writer who cannot write?

A/An 'r'?... I joke, but there is nothing funny here. This here be gallows humor.

This is not bloggaria. This is something worse. This is death

For if I cannot write, I cannot live.

I breathe through the words that leave my fingertips.

My heart palpates to the rhythm of metaphors (further problem; I had to look up the spelling of "rhythm"...wasn't sure)

Similes flow unobstructed through my veins

Familiar to white blood vessels, this is their home

So when they are gone, I starve for them

My heartrate slows without a rhythm to follow

My blood pressure drops... how else would you explain the ache in my fingers

Blood starvation, word starvation

I NEED TO WRITE!!!!

Five drafts, started...abruptly paused mid first paragraph, no further words come. FIVE!

Missing persons

Missing

Afro (Jun 1..15 days)

Confessions (May 18...29 days) <Nurse, dont u know that swine flu is going around...now is NOT the time to be disappearing>

Lady Koko (Jun 1...15 days) <you popped in for a  second and then disappeared again...sup with that?>

Miss Definitely Maybe (May 16...31 days)

Miss Love aka LovePaprika (April 9...68 days)

Padosh aka Phoenix (May 18...29 days)

Bond Girl (April 29...48 days)

Shona (Jun3...13 days)

Smaragd(May 9...38 days)

TDVA(May 27...18 days)

Wordmerchant(Jun 2...14 days)<You better go see a doctor about that foolish bloggaria>

If found, please return to blogsville asap. Reward: Riveting reading.

OMG I love you!

I have a surprise for you, close your eyes I'd said.

Ok.

I moved from my position, lips between her thighs, over to the bedside table.

She was already dripping..my face was covered in her juices.

I picked up the little pouch and opened it. I pushed the button.

Bzzzzzzzzz

OMG I love you!

Rewind..

1 week previous, in the afterglow.

Just so you know, I'm not looking for anything serious. Unprompted

Ok then, so just a bit of fun? My response.

Yea I guess.

Left it at that.

Fast forward to friday night..

I come home and she's asleep in my bed. Blue patterned chemise, red lace panties. I "wake her up" with my lips between her thighs, till she's dripping wet.

I have a surprise for you, close your eyes

I moved from my position over to the bedside table

I picked up the little pouch and opened it. I pushed the button.

Bzzzzzzzzz

OMG I love you!

I ignored it at the time and carried on; tongue, fingers...bzzzz. Her legs shook...her body arched...her vulva convulsed... but I digress.

I have a question to pose to the ladies. This is a casual thing, a B.U.D.D.Y as Mocha, and previously Musiq put it.

Should I be worried?

I'm going to talk to her later today..just make sure we're on the same page. I'm open to things developing, but if there's something behind that statement, things may be developing much too quickly. I'm not sure I can keep up.

Another question.

Should B.U.D.D.I.E.S be exclusive? Does exclusivity make it more than an arrangement? Is exclusivity the required criterion for graduation from "arrangement" to "situation"?

She's a great girl. On the surface of things, not nearly as crazy as previous engagements. And there's definitely the possibility. But not quite yet.

So I ask again.

Should I be worried?

Massaging Yoni

I'm having trouble adding pictures to posts so I'm going to have to hold off on the Bunny Boiler story for now. In its wake, and as a peace offering, I'm going to put up the details of some of the techniques involved in S.O.M.E.

The Yoni Massage is something I learned and picked up fairly recently and have decided to make an integral part of getting  S.O.M.E; at no extra cost of course.

Please note that this makes up only a part(optional at that) and not all of the S.O.M.E, but can be conducted on it's own.

Yoni Massage


The girl should lie on her back with pillows under her head so she can look down at her genitals and up at her partner. Legs should be spread, with knees slightly bent and vahjayjay fully exposed (this is an extremely vulnerable position for the woman. The partner should be sensitive to this)

Begin with deep, relaxing breathing. It might help to have some soothing music playing in the background. Deep breathing and relaxation is paramount.

Pour a small quantity of oil on the mound;  just enough that it drips down the outer lips. Begin gently massaging the mound and outer lips. Spend time here and do not rush. Relax and enjoy giving the massage.



Gently squeeze the outer lip between the thumb and index finger, and slide up and down the entire length of each lip. Do the same to the inner lips. Take your time.

Stroke the clitoris with clockwise and counter-clockwise circles. Gently squeeze it between thumb and index fingers. Do this as a massage and not to get the her off. The woman will undoubtedly become very aroused but continue to encourage her to relax and breathe.

Slowly and with great care, insert the middle finger of your right hand into the vagina. Very gently explore and massage the inside of the  vagina with this finger. Take your time, be gentle, and feel up, down and sideways. Vary the depth, speed and pressure. It is important to remember that this is a massage in which you are nurturing and relaxing her. With your palm facing up, and the middle finger inside the Yoni, move the middle finger in a "come here" gesture or crook back towards the palm to hit the Gräfenberg. Once again, vary the pressure, speed and pattern of movement. You can move side to side, back and forth, or in circles with your middle finger. If you feel it necessary, insert another finger. Resist the urge to finger-fuck her. Remember, this is a massage; take your time and be very gentle


You can use your left hand to massage her breasts, abdomen, or clitoris. If you massage the clitoris it's usually best to use the thumb in an up down motion, with the rest of the hand resting on, and massaging the mound. The dual stimulation of right and left hands will provide much pleasure for the receiver. Continue massaging, using varying speed, pressure and motion, all the while continuing to breathe deeply.


If she has an orgasm, keep her breathing, and continue massaging if she wants. More orgasms may occur, each gaining in intensity. In Tantra this is called "riding the wave."



In ending the massage, slowly, gently, and with respect, remove your hands. Allow her to relax and enjoy the afterglow of the Yoni massage. Cuddling or holding is very soothing as well.

This massage can be given in conjunction to, or as a substitute to cunnilingus (yes, it's that good), so for you ladies who  (God knows why) are still suffering a dude that doesn't give head, make him learn how to do this. If he does it well, you won't be able to tell the difference between his fingers and his tongue.

Enjoy

sWeET DREAMS

Meet the Hunters(V)

continued from here

He had married the perfect woman. He was eternally grateful for her and he only hoped he was worthy of her. Everything he did, everyday he lived was for her, and the kids -of course he couldn't forget the twins. He had no idea what he had done to deserve her, but he knew he could never do anything to hurt her. He could never lose her.

These are the thoughts that made their way through Dwayne's brain as he looked down at his wife, on her knees in front of him. This woman, still stunning after two of his big headed children, pulling her hair back with one hand as the other pushed at him, guiding him towards the bed. There was no life without her. She truly was the flesh of his flesh, the bone of his bone...

He chuckled at the irony of that last thought.

"What's funny", she hummed

"Don't talk with your mouth full", he playfully commanded

She looked up at him, a sly defiant smile in her eyes, and pushed him back onto the bed. He was flat on his back now. She climbed onto the bed and took him in her mouth again, her ears primed, waiting for his reaction to her anniversary present.

She looked at him. His eyes were closed. "Damn". She would have to get him to open them. Good thing she knew exactly how to work his joystick.

She did the "thing".

Fuck *gasp* Cy? Shit, I'm cumming, Cy?

"M hmm." No way she was letting go now. His seed was hers!

He filled her mouth. She swallowed gleefully, not letting any of it get away. She could feel him trembling under her now. He was clutching the sheets, his legs tense, stretched out, his toes were curling. She had her payback.

She crawled up into his arms and waited for him to catch his breath.

"Cy"

"Yes baby?"

"When did we put a mirror on the ceiling?"

She smiled. "Happy Anniversary darling"

Things that have me peeved (and other things)

Here's a list of things that have peeved me off this week:


  • London travel

  • Furthermore, the tube strike

  • Having to work at 7am tomorrow

  • Having to work till 7pm on friday

  • Having 3 conflicting (and impossible to co-ordinate) engagements this weekend. Some people are going a have to be disappointed

  • Continuing to find stunning studios that I want when my lease isn't up for 3 months (you'd think I'd just stop looking right?)

  • Writer's block

  • Reader's block

  • Mr Halitosis on the DLR

  • Facebook releasing yet another Blackberry app without Facebook chat (really shouldn't be so eager, i already have MSN, Yahoo, Google and Blackberry messengers distracting me at work...not to talk of email, blogger, Twitterberry and text messaging)


...

Woosah...

...

In
other news, plenty rumu rumu this weekend. Unfortunately, you guys
won't be getting that gist. At least not yet (you know I don't blog
rumu rumu as it happens now) I'll say this though; kini yen gbono gan,
es muy calienté.

More news, I met this girl the other
day. Her vibe is one of a girl who is exceedingly aware of her hotness
and the power she wields over men. I won't lie, me sef I shook small.
But I had to check myself. After all, I'm ScribbleMeFree, Master of the
Game (ees a lie o! I'm just a student lol).

But I gotta try
though. This girl, the way that she smiles that makes me want to hand
over my wallet. If na jazz, e no go work. I'm not averse, however, to
some non verbal negotiation. Ahem.

Anyway, I know I
owe you lovely people a bunny boiler story. Don't worry, its coming.
Abeg una no vex. You still love me abi? Yes, its by force.

sWeET DREAMS blogville

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

On living next door to a brothel

I suspected it for the longest time. The random "bang bang bang"s, the constant music. Like they were trying to drown out something. Like they were trying to cover up something.

It occurred to me the night I heard a crash, and then frightened voices and whispering outside my window at 3am one night (don't ask why I was up). I looked out the window and saw 2 tiny Chinese girls standing in the street. They looked scared. A second later something spooked them because they Bolted down the street (doubt Usain would have been able to keep up even). I contemplated calling 999 but didn't (I know, I know). Someone did though, because there was a ECILOP(See Roc) car outside in minutes.

After that night there were no incidents for a while, but I noticed that several cameras had been installed over their front door giving them a view of the entire street. I shrugged it off.

And then the floodgates opened. I figure they opened fully for business within the last couple of months. Either that or I just wasn't paying attention before. These days its a swarm of guy after guy after guy going in there.

To be honest, I thought for a while they were drug dealers (I heard about a Chinese "family" that rented out a house and turned it into a "greenhouse", if you know what I mean). I'm still not convinced they're not drug dealers. I think they're diversified. But I digress.

The clincher, for me, occurred one fateful spring night. Any hint of shyness they might have previously had was/is gone. The girls were performers. The guys were dirty, nasty pervs.

I was in bed, reading, as I do to wind down after a long day. I hear giggles. Then. Bang Bang Bang. Squeak Squeak. Bang Bang Bang. "Oh Mr Andrews you so biiig".

I almost died with laughter.

The thing about this place is that you hardly ever actually see the girls. They come out like once a month or something (prompting me to think they're in some kinda bondage).

So, yes, since that night, everytime I look out the window and see a flashy car pull up, and a paedophilic guy gets out and walks toward the house, I make sure he sees me give him the most disapproving stare like "mhmm, I know what you're here for"

My flatmate even joked about us going over there and getting the BBBJTCWS*. I'm not down with that. Not for any reason other than that I refuse to pay for sex of any sort.

So I told him to find out if they offer any introductory freebies. I'll let you know how it goes. Hehe.

* Bare Back Blow Job To Completion With Swallow

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

In true Roc form...

So, I haven't posted in a while, as some bloggers have not hesitated to point out. For that, I apologize.

It's not out of lack of stuff to say, but more out of lack of motivation to say it. I decided to take a little time to focus on work because, to be honest, blogging had become a full time distraction for me.

In my abscence I have conceived, (but not written) a few topics for posts, and I want you guys to choose which one goes up first and I'll do my best to make it happen this weekend. There's going to be a "Scribbles On:" series

-On living next door to a brothel...(BBBJTCWS..I'll explain in the post)

-On bank holiday weekend shenanigans...(mostly drunken shenanigans)

-On office affairs and wedding rings...(a.k.a. Sexy is her first nature)

-On bunny boilers and baby makers...(you guys get to meet my "kid")

Also the conclusion to Meet the Hunters is still in the works.

So, yes, now I leave it to you.

Furthermore, I don't think I will be able to "blog daily" anymore. I need my job, so I need to do my job. Unless you guys are willing to pay me to blog. My rates are £150/day; any takers? No? That hurts, and to think I thought you loved me.

Anyway, I might not have time to sit down and pour out an epistle on a daily basis anymore, but I can still take 30 seconds here and there to jot down my thoughts. So I tweet/twitter/twitt? dunno which is the correct expression. I prefer "Twibble".

So, if you're interested in my 3 or 4 times daily micro-rants, my twibbles are in the sidebar, or you can follow me @scribblemefree.

as always, sWeET DREAMS blogsville

Scribbles

Morning After

He wont be back

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gpf0aO30ecE&feature=related[/youtube]

The Game according to Scribbles (KYA)

Know Your Audience


I hated studying French in primary school. I've never been a fan of the French. Or their language.

Still, I had to study it for 7 odd years. The moment I didn't have to anymore, I stopped. I've never fancied myself a speaker. Heck, I'm surprised when I hear some French and I can understand it, somewhat.

I surprised myself last night.

Two girls got on the train last night. One black, one Caucasian. The black girl was decent looking; tall, long legs, pretty eyes.

I sat and observed them for a minute, they were speaking French.

There is something remarkably sexy about French women. They seriously excite me. I don't speak French, but I thot I would go make an ass of myself in front of them.

I was a little surprised at how much I actually remembered.

Excusé moi, I'm sorry, je ne parle pas francais, but I had to come talk to you. Tu es tres belle. I smiled, I probably just murdered your language there, I'm sorry( I didn't say I was fluent)

She smiled.

I'm being rude. I didn't even introduce myself. Je mappelle Scribbles, comment t'appelle tu?

Vivienne, and you're not doing too badly she took my outstretched hand.

Enchanté. I kissed her hand

Life is a big stage and we're all playing parts. The key to success in many arenas is to know your audience. There are a few "gurus" out there who will say that a man should approach a woman within 3 seconds of seeing and being attracted to her. While I respect their reasons for that approach, I subscribe to a different theory.

A panther/lion/tiger or any other predator doesn't just bumble carelessly into a pack of gazelles. It will most likely go hungry using that approach. Instead the predator stalks its prey, watching, observing, looking for weaknesses within the group.

I follow the same principle. Watch a woman, observe the way she talks, carries herself; looking for my "in". And then, armed with a smile, charm, blackberry (she had one too) and that knowledge, I move in for the "kill".

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Meet the Hunters (IV)

**Shout out to Sexkitten, she provided the inspiration for this installment.**

continued from here

He got to the top of the stairs. The bedroom door was open. He could smell her perfume in the air. Eau de Cartier. She wasn't playing games tonight.

He could barely contain himself as he rounded the corner into the bedroom. There she was, in the bathroom doorway, her back to him, bent over the sink, one leg on the bidet. Her body glistened with droplets of water and she was oiling up.

He quietly unzipped his pants and approached her. She liked it when he "surprised" her.

She turned around, she had heard him come in. She had known he was behind her. She knew his intentions.

She placed her hand on his chest to stop him, looked down, a big grin spread across her face. She dropped to her knees and as her hands worked his belt, her tongue worked the tip of his cock. He shuddered when she took him whole in her mouth.

His was the only dick that had ever been in her mouth, she had hated it the first time and told him she was never doing it again. He hadn't pushed her. She was still a virgin, innocent, fragile. He went down on her frequently though, extracting powerful, violent orgasms. Whrenching them from her body with careless abandon.

One day, after a particularly intense, loud climax, -his parents were away for the weekend and his little brother was at a friends house across town- she lay in the afterglow, his hard cock in her hand, stroking it as he kissed her, feeding her her own nectar. She wanted to make him feel as good as he just made her feel.

She kissed his neck, his shoulders, bit down on his nipples; he loved it when she did that. She slowly made her way lower, lower and then she swallowed him. She would never forget the look on his face that day; surprise, puzzlement, pleasure; as his eyes rolled back in his head. She hadn't really known what she was doing, but she let his responses guide her.

The way he squirmed and thrashed about, turned her on. She was wetter than she had ever been. And when he came, harder than he ever had, she couldn't contain herself anymore, her cunt was throbbing.

"I'm ready, Dw"

"What, ready for what?" he was still delirious with pleasure.

"I want you inside me"

"Are..are you sure?"

"Yes"

They made love for the first time that day, he had been careful, he had tried not to hurt her, and when he saw the pain spread across her face, his heart almost broke. He had held her when she cried afterward, and had been ready when, 10 minutes later, she wanted to go again. He didn't know it then, but he had just unleashed her inner nymph.

In the weeks to follow, they had their first real scare. She was late, a week to be precise. She was convinced she was pregnant and certain her mother would kill her. Dwayne had stood by her side. It turned out to be a false alarm, but they were careful from then on. Dwayne carried a packet of condoms everywhere with him, because he never knew when or where she would decide to pull out his cock

She had become addicted to sucking his cock. She was giving her man more pleasure than he could bear, and she loved it. She loved the power. One day, she swallowed. It was an accident, he told her he was coming, but she had been so engrossed in what she was doing she hadn't heard him. She hadn't realised till it hit the back of her throat. She had no choice but to swallow then.

It wasn't half bad. She had looked up at him and seen the look of delight on his face. Then she'd gone back to work. His knees buckled. Since that day, she always swallowed.

And she would swallow tonight. She loosened his belt and let his pants drop to the floor; and with her hands on his thighs and his dick in her mouth, she guided him to the bed, thankful they had chosen to go for plush carpeting.

I KNEW YOU WAS A SNAKE!!

His favorite "bootah call". This dude is funny as hell, dude didn't even seem sorry, or afraid, just confused. Like "there is someone talking, it sounds like my wife" LMAO!!

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfRjsMlwjJw[/youtube]

...apparently, Indian women don't use "the mouth"...anyone wanna assert or depose that statement?

Reunited and it feels so good (yea yea it's cliché..wanna fight about it?)

So I got my BB back, sans all my contacts. So for those of you who were on my BBM list, please submit your PINs to scribbles@scribblemefree.com, or better still add me - PIN:2561A775.

Feel free to add me if you weren't a previous contact; I'm always open to making new friends :P

The Curious Case of the Doubling Fat

So, I have this scale (Tanita, I think), measures weight, body fat %, muscle mass, body water % etc. The last time I checked (3wks or so ago), I was 68kg(150lbs), 17.8%, 52.3, 50.4% respectively, and, while happy enough with that, I've been trying to gain a little weight (get up to 75ish(165lbs)) and at the same time cut down body fat % to high single figures.

To that end, I've been working hard in the gym, eating right, going on morning runs (ok, maybe not as often as I should but at least I went).

So tell me why, when I checked again Saturday morning I had lost weight (63Kg(140lbs)), my body fat % had DOUBLED (31.8%) and I had lost 10kg (20lbs) of muscle mass i.e. 41.3. I was aghast. My body was still throbbing from the gym sessions. I came to the conclusion it was one of two things:


  1. Friday evening, I had baked a batch of brownies and when they were done, I decided to have a taste. 10 minutes later, I had eaten the entire batch. I was being punished

  2. (And I think this is more likely) The scale is malfunctioning. I mean the fact that I can't actually see the fat anywhere tells me Tanita is taking the piss. :) Good thing it's still under warranty.


That's that about that. :)

Showcasing a few other Def Poets

Heading to bed in a minute, but since you guys liked Staceyann Chin so much I thought I'd share a few more of my favorites with  you.

Shannelle Gabriel

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjNRr9-tgtw[/youtube]

Steve Connell and Sekou

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRzoAYpYcOc[/youtube]

Shihan

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ik7GFLB_CII[/youtube]

Our very own Bassey Ikpi

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTcOWR3uc0E&feature=PlayList&p=6C755BB0C54EED2B&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=31[/youtube]

...seriously if you don't know...get to knowing!

Today I want to talk about LOML

I promise I'll continue the Hunter story soon...Maybe today (I have the story in my head, just a matter of putting it on paper)

LOML is in Nig at the moment. I haven't seen her in over a year now and I miss her. I really hope her bid to do her Masters in London works out. But that's not the crux of the gist.

Popsie will be on his way to Nig this weekend...but let's start at the beginning. (This is why I don't write about LOML often, it tends to be disjointed and random - we have so much history...but I will try and make this as coherent as possible).

I think I mentioned in an earlier post that LOML and I are (and have been for a long time) family friends. There is a mutual trust/respect/affection that exists between our parents. Also, her parents love me, my parents love her... you can see where this is going.

Usually, I'm not into girls that my parents want me to be into (but you know this already), however, it's very different with LOML. I've known her since I was about 8, didn't actually speak to her till I was about 16 (for some reason all this time I thought she was dating my oldest friend Kay...but apparently I thought wrong :) - ok I've gone off on a tangent again)

Anyway, LOML and I didn't start really getting close until we were about 18ish. I was in MA (I know I said Michigan before...my weak attempt at misdirection), she was in...(I don't know if I have permission to disclose that info...but she was far away sha).

I remember vividly the first time I thought about her in a non-platonic sense. I had actually been telling her (get this) about a girl I was crushing on..I think I may have written something (a poem) and after she read it/or after I was done telling her, and she was done encouraging me to "go for it", she said "I think I could see myself falling for you".

Now, I had always had a mild crush on LOML but had always ignored it (like I said, I thought she and Kay had a thing). When she said that though, I thought about it for a second, then dismissed it.

Not too long after that, the term LOML came about. I don't know who coined it or which one of us used it first, but it was there. It was mainly a friendship term at the time. We remained platonic. Over time, however, it started to develop into something deeper. We were friends, with the benefit of knowing that we would always have each other. She slowly became the most important person in my life.

When I inevitably moved to England, we stayed in touch, and when my parents found out, they couldn't conceal their elation. We maintained we were just friends. The fact that she came to England a couple of years ago for a few days (under a week) that happened to include my birthday more than raised a few eyebrows.

Last summer, this happened and caused me to realise the depth of my feelings for her, and I have wanted her close since. We speak a lot more often, and I have since told her that I love her. Before you all get over-excited, we will not be engaging in the futile practice of an LDR.

I've talked about how my parents keep pestering me about the "girlfriend". "Where is she, who is she? blah blah blah". Well, now they append the question "or is it LOML?" with a wink and a twinkle.

So now, LOML is in Nig and Popsie will be in Nig by the weekend. Last week we were talking and he said (I still hope he was joking) he will interrogate her when he sees her. I begged him not to embarass the poor girl. And then, on the weekend, he told me he had spoken to her parents. Her dad had said  "LOML always knows what's going on in your family, I wonder why that is" and her mom had remarked something to the tune of "Don't you know she's already part of the Scribbles family?"

I couldn't contain my laughter. Now, the old man has a renewed resolve to interrogate her. Well, he has 1 day to do it in. She leaves the day after he arrives. I wish him luck! (not necessarily the good kind)

I hope this post wasn't too spasmodic. But as a random "finally", anyone that knows me knows I LOVE watches. I'm a watch connoisseur, if you will. I remarked to a friend that "Shoes are to most girls as watches are to Scribbles" (not that I have that many watches anyway). But I say that to say this. Look at the watch LOML got me for graduation last year!

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="377" caption="My fave watch!"]My fave watch![/caption]

I bet you love her too now dontcha?

A partial unveiling...a def poet

So I dont know what prompted this, but I suddenly got the urge to give u guysies a glimpse of Scribbles. So here goes:

shady

So, there I am. Well, if I were to be perfectly honest, that's from 5 years ago. But it does the job.

It is my pleasure and a great honour to introduce those of you who dont know to Def Poet Stacey Chin:

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfoQOenh9Cw[/youtube]

I LOVE  this piece. I also, for some reason find her really attractive :-P Enjoy.

Meet the Hunters(III)


*Ring Ring*

"Hello"

"Mom, would you mind taking the twins tonight?"

" I'd love to. How about they spend the weekend?"

"Oh, that would be great! Thanks mom! Should I bring them..."

"I'm already having your dad pick them up from school"

"Oh"*giggles*"you know me too well mama"

"It's your anniversary baby, have fun"

Cyan smiled. Her mother knew her well. Maybe too well, she worried. But she could worry later. She didnt have time to worry now. She had one thing on her mind.

That Hunter dude was going to pay. She still shuddered when she thought about that afternoon. She had had to leave the office early. There was work to be done, but they would understand. It was her anniversary.

Besides, she couldnt do any work. Not in her current state. She was mentally and physically frazzled. All she could think about was tearing Dwayne apart tonight. In the end she had spent 15 minutes planning it, made a few calls, grabbed her keys, told Charles to take her messages and gone home.

She pulled into the driveway and popped the trunk. She surveyed its contents and pleased she had everything she needed she hurried inside and locked the door. She had about an hour before Dwayne came home.

She needed to set the stage. She carefully placed the first item, hanging from the banister and made her way up the stairs.

Forty-five minutes later she was done. As she stood back to admire her work, she heard his car pull into the driveway. He was early. She smiled, he must have cut his meeting short. The text message she sent him a few minutes ago must have had an effect.

She gave her efforts of the last forty-five minutes a final once-over and hopped in the shower.

*



Dwayne walked in the house, phone to his ear, conducting his meeting via the phone. He should still be in a room with 10 other men, in pin-stripe Italian suits and silk ties. They were in the middle of arranging the takeover a few small firms in Tokyo.

He was in the middle of a speech when his phone had gone off. Text message from Cyan.
I'm home, waiting on you. Follow the drip trail...

"Family emergency, boys. I gotta run, but I leave you all in Gus's capable hands. I'll be on my cell".

His vice-chairman and best friend took over, giving him a knowing smile. Gus knew how much Dwayne loved the company and he knew there was only one person he would cut out of a meeting for. He also knew it was their anniversary. Hell, he'd been best man at the wedding. He had been completely prepared to fill in for Dwayne, surprised he made it to the meeting in the first place.

He saw it the moment he walked into the house, hanging from the banister. "Guys, I'm going to have to leave you now. Have a good evening" He hung up and picked it up. It was the thong she'd worn that morning when she left the house. It was soaked. He sniffed it...how he loved her scent.

He could hear the shower running. He started up the stairs and stopped. Her Vicky Secrets bra was strewn accross the third step, carefully placed to look like it had just happened to fall there. He smiled and began to stir in anticipation of the night.

About a Nubian Queen (audio post)

Written Aug2005, recorded Mar2007

Uploaded by www.cellspin.net



Forgive me, this recording is kinda rough around the edges. I did it in my bedroom.

Here are the words:

Godess, deep, dark chocolate being
Let me tell you about this Nubian Queen
Sweetness, rich, smooth like Godiva
Adam would give his whole left side to get beside her
she is desire personified
damned if I dont tell you about her smile
drive a grown man wild
wrapped up in lips incredible, almost edible man, style
so sweet you could almost eat...lips ample
like supple pillows to rest my lips on
her vibe is mellow
casually i approach her
naturally putting me on an unnatural high
how do i survive the temptation, the fascination
the infatuation with this ebony vixen
would you please listen as i tell you about this Nubian Queen
have you ever seen a beauty so pure, so sure in her confidence
consequently
making me sweat from the fire of desire
making me ache for the pain of summer rain
making me lick my lips as i tell you about this Nubian Queen

Like a pair of Louboutins...every woman's gotta have me

...So my facebook status read a couple of weekends ago. *This is going to be a random post*

So, yesterday, a line from a song popped into my head ¶"When I fall in love, it will be forever..or I'll never fall in love"¶-Nat King Cole

I think it also features in Disney's Sleeping Beauty...not sure if that's the one. But this simple line made me come to a realisation about myself : I'm not a player, I'm just a seriously hopeless romantic... I keep my heart from love because if I'm going to give my heart to anyone, it's gunna be a forever situation... all or nothing at all, if you will. I just did a search on google for a quote describing the troubles a poet faces in finding love. I didn't find one. So I'm creating my own.

"It is easier for the village Idiot from Texas to become President of a world power than it is for a poet to find love."

Ok, don't quote me on that..that was rubbish. But you get my point. Poets, writers, artists, spend their time dissecting love, romanticizing it, putting love on a pedestal, making it an ideal, unattainable. Our imaginations run wild with impossible descriptions of women/men likening them to gods/goddesses and other lofty ideals. The fact that people tend not to measure up to these romanticisms causes us to turn cynic.

I was  on Dee Brighton's blog and a couple of things she said in her last post struck me. Like the paucity of good music these days. She's actually good, she goes searching. I don't remember the last time I uploaded my ipod with music, and I'm pretty sure when I did, I was adding classics like Teddy Pendi et al.

I also, by her inspiration decided to put my touch on shuffle and just listen (I've never done that before, I have moods, and certain music that matches the moods) it's proving to be quite a joy. One of the tracks I've listened to so far is something Your's Truly recorded a few years back. I might put it up soon, in all it's amateur goodness.

Zoe Saldana...hottie. I saw Star Trek over the weekend and I just couln't get over how hot she is (is it weird that I found the green girl in that hot too?) Zoe is the newest addition to my Celebogle list, joining the calibre of Megan Fox, the two Jessicas (Biel and Alba), and knocking Meagan Good off the list (sorry Meag, you're extremely hot, but this is just reflecting my tastes at the moment..you just might be back--yes, I assume she reads my blog).

I need new female friends. The past two weeks have proven to be massive disappointments. Following the sausage fest that was my friends bbq two weeks ago, I have to say I still was in no way prepared for what occured last friday night.

So a colleague of mine had a housewarming party. Cute little chinese girl with, presumably, cute little chinese friends. I arrived and saw...guys. Penises all around me. About 13 of them.  And chick was the ONLY girl. ALL NIGHT! I was severely disappointed, but I decided to make do. The chick was wearing this see through piece that i can only describe as a negligeé, white bra, black tights. I had been considering getting jiggy with her. This was the night.  This was also the night when I figured out that IT geeks who aren't getting any can be HUGE cockblockers. The boys were having none of it. She would come sit by me and we'd be talking and someone would come, holding their drink and stand over us. She kept dropping hints like "It's getting late..you guys are gna miss ur train"..and then she'd turn to me and say "the bus from here to your house is 24 hours right?"

But the boys were having none of it. Apparently, they had all been eyeing the prize themselves and they'd be damned if they let this black boy steal it from under their noses. Ah well, and I was looking forward to practicing my Mandarin as well.

Right. I'm going to stop there. Audio post should be up tonight.

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