April 24 2024

Whose That Girl

My heart aches for who I used to be. I look at pictures and videos of my old self, my XXX awards, magazine covers and spreads, and I read through messages with old industry friends and I am reminded of who I once was. My life was a movie. A motion fucking picture for sure. Sigh…everything is different now. I look through those old pics and wonder…”Who is she?”, “Who was that woman”, and “Where the fuck did she go?” My confidence level was beyond 10 and I feared nothing. I loved my body, my soul, my heart, and everything about me that made me, Me. I was on top of my game and wanted for NOTHING. I never had to worry about anyone telling me no because I was my own provider and I did whatever the hell I wanted to do. I have always hated having to ask men for shit and I never had to when I was that girl. I was a self-made entrepreneur as my sister used to call me and I gave it all away for a grown ass man who still has nightmares. How in the fuck did I get here? My savings account is depleted, all my industry connects have moved on, side hustles are all blown, and I am living with one of the most mentally and sexually abusive men on the planet. Again, how in the fuck did I get HERE? The man who met me while I was poolside in my fave bikini and praised my sexiness and unfiltered conversations has changed into a man who wants me to dress like I am a grandmother and gives me the silent treatment anytime I say something that he doesn't like. A man or a child? My partner or my warden? My lover or, his hoe? Mistakes have been made. This is no one’s fault. I have no one to blame but myself. The flags went from yellow to red real quick and I stayed because there was no way this man who showed me the world is throwing temper tantrums because I pay too much attention to my cats…a boy. A child. This is just a rant. I miss writing and I think about it daily. My purge. My safe space. The woman who I was is forever lost. She won’t be coming back. It would take a miracle from God himself to breathe life back into her. I really don’t know who I am anymore but I do know who I don’t want to be…and it is who I am.

August 19 2021

Gaslighting

Gaslighting, by definition, means to manipulate someone into questioning their own sanity. This is a form of psychological abuse and I bullshit you not, you will drive yourself ape shit crazy questioning everything you have ever said or texted to a person who is sending you through gaslighting hell. It is the fucking worst. So there is this guy I used to fuck, let’s call him Tiny, who has texted me everything from hearts, early morning “I miss you’s”, made plans to come over and fuck me, and then resorted to calling me weird and confused when I started leaving him on Read this afternoon because he’s an asshole. He is blocked now. Another rich football player with a less than average dick who can’t fuck and isn’t worth the BV. Let me be clear, this entry is not to throw Tiny under the bus. I mean, Google does say that the average penis size is between 5.1 and 5.5 inches so maybe I should cut him a little slack. This post is more about respecting yourself enough to walk away from situations when you are the only one bringing value to them. Some of my friends and I have been talking about narcissists lately and how damaging it is to be exposed to self-obsessed people who think the world revolves around them. I don't care how much money you make or what you bring to the table, that doesn’t affect me and if your behavior is impacting my mental health in any way, I have to walk away from you. I got really upset today when Tiny called me weird and it made me pause for a second. I had to scroll through and reread our text messages to see what was it that I did or said that made me seem weird or confused. There was nothing on my end. The irony that it was in fact him who had been sending mixed signals, canceling plans that he pressed me to make, and triple texting me when I wouldn't respond. Listen…the world has been on a downward spiral since 2020 and there is nothing worth my sanity and my peace of mind at a time when ignorance is at an all time high, people are dying from this fucking disease, and everyday feels like another glitch in the Matrix. Rich dick is everywhere and so are men with big dicks who like to fuck so if you find yourself in a gaslighting nightmare, leave. Life is hard enough. Don’t be with someone who makes you feel crazy.

April 1 2021

Forbidden Fruit

There is so much irony in the fact that I decided to write this blog post today. As we all know, today is formally known as April Fool’s Day and honestly, that is exactly what I feel like for allowing myself to mentally fall in love with a man I can never call my own. I am in fact, a fool and he is my forbidden fruit. Someone that I know I can never have so I crave him more than I have craved others. The way we met is very non consequential but the connection we have and our obvious chemistry resonate with me throughout the day. No matter what I am doing or who I am with, he sneaks into my thoughts, gives me butterflies, and makes my pussy wet even when I am in the company of other men who have paid me to be there. I consider him to be a friend and I think he views me as a confidante, someone he can vent to and chat with when life gets mundane and shit gets depressing. I look forward to his text messages, words of encouragement, and the sound of his voice when he is able to sneak away and call me. No, we aren’t fucking and he is in fact, not a cheater. I am less of a secret to his wife than she will probably ever realize and I would never be a threat to her or their home. I respect him too much. We don’t flirt with each other and our conversations are usually goal oriented and work based but there is something about his voice and his swag that make me want to sit on his lap and ride him slowly with old school R&B playing in the background. I often picture us in a dimly lit room, me naked, his pants around his ankles, and me rocking back and forth on his lap while music plays and candles burn around us. I want him. Knowing him has been one of life’s greatest tricks on me and it feels like hell. If I could have chosen my soulmate, he would have been it but he belongs to someone else and he will never be mine so I digress. I would rather have him as a friend than not have him at all so his position in my life will continue to be what it is. So close but so far away. Forbidden.

March 22 2021

Airplane Mode

I can only imagine the calmness that must come with death and the added solace one might find when choosing to take his or her own life. The anxiety of waiting on the grim reaper to tap me on the shoulder is agonizing and I sometimes become enthralled with paranoia when I start thinking about when he might show up and drag me to hell. It’s stressful. I have been very busy and pensive these last few days and I find myself constantly writing down notes and lists of things I have to do. I bullshit you not there are at least one or 1000 post-its titled “Shit To Do Today” all over my house and I have become very savvy at making lists and not getting things done. Today, I took a much needed break from photo shoots, 9 to 5 work, and being a mommy to write down another list. This list has 2 columns on it and one is titled “Happy”, the other is titled “Sad”. I created this list because I have been overwhelmed lately and when I finished the list, I cried. It is so depressing. I have over 50 things that make me sad to the 7 that make me happy. Pathetic. Lately I feel tired and robotic. It is like I am in some rat race trying to get to absolutely fucking nowhere and I am over it. My phone rings all day with “friends” and “acquaintances” needing advice, attention, or support. No one ever calls just to check on me and I feel like I am drowning. I am tired. You know one of the things I love about flying is how you can put your phone into Airplane Mode. I know people like to stay connected but I like to turn my shit off. There is comfort in not being texted, DM’d, and bothered for the few hours I am thousands of miles up in sky and away from everyone’s shit. I usually log in every now and then to check on my money and talk to fans but the lack of availability is key to me. I don’t really want to be here anymore. That’s it, that’s the blog entry.

Suicide Prevention Hotline 1-800-273-8255

March 10 2021

43

I will be turning 43 in 3 days and I have never felt younger or more vibrant in my life. My body is on point, I am physically healthy and mentally unhinged, I like it that way, and my finances and faith are in order. I feel like I am finally living my truth and doing what makes me happy. The notion of practice what you preach has become a mantra as I build my personal brand and slowly release myself from the grasp of Corporate “Do what the fuck I say with a smile on your face” America. I am happy for all intents and purposes but at the same time, I am riddled with anxiety that will probably consume me for at least the next 366 days. My father died of a massive heart attack at the age of 43. He literally dropped dead and at the time, my 7 year old brain tried to reconcile how old he must’ve been because young people don’t die. My daddy had to be old to die like that. Right? Wrong. Obviously I have learned enough to know that death doesn’t come with an age. It just happens. I sit up and ponder my soon to be 43 year old self and the people in my life who love and depend on me. My mother, my sisters, my kids, family, the forbidden fruit I entangle with from time to time, and the few people I call friends. The idea of sharing the same fate of my father is crippling to me as I could not imagine the pain my small circle would endure if at the age of 43, I died too. It is a scary reality, in my opinion, to live through the death year of one of your parents. How can I live this year without thinking about how my dad spent it, not knowing it would be his last? At 43 he experienced death. Proceeding that was the last time he would see or talk to his daughters, the last time he would play with his dogs, sleep in his bed, speak to his mother, watch a football game, or have a beer. I don’t know what this year will bring and I know I am not in control of anything. My prayer, however, is that I make it to 44 and that my children never have to wonder what it would be like if I could’ve just lived a little longer. I never want them to forget the sound of my voice or the way my smile gets crooked when I laugh out loud. I just want to live.

February 23 2021

Power

My sugar daddies are falling in love with me and it seems as though everyone has forgotten the role they play in my life. It pisses me off because it is aggravating and not because I need them, but because ignorance and stupidity have always been major turn offs for me. One of them got me a hotel room during the storms last week so that I did not have to deal with the power outages and frozen pipes. While I appreciated the room, I did not ask for it and I am not sure why he thinks his minor act of chivalry should cost me some WAP. He asked me to go to breakfast this Friday morning and I reminded him where we met and why I allow him to be here, in my life. He seems puzzled which is funny because I never took him for an idiot. If he wanted some pussy for the 4 night hotel stay he should’ve taken me outside and fucked me in his car. That was a week ago and I don’t owe him shit. I haven’t heard from him since I texted him and said that the only dates I go on are transactional. I really don’t give a fuck. The other one is mad tonight because he had the bright idea that I should record myself riding his face the next time he comes over so that I can post the video to my Onlyfans. GASP!!!! Hell no!!! I told him I was not interested in filming right now and that my subscribers prefer solo content. I lied. They like watching me get piped down but trust me, they don’t want to see his Elmer Fudd ass on my NSFW timeline. The audacity of him to try to infuse himself into my freak life and live out his porn star dreams at my expense. No. HELL NO!!! What these men fail to realize is that while I appreciate their money, I have my own and the sugar daddy game is just fun for me. It is not necessary. I like the attention but I do not need it. The power in these equations, therefore, is my pussy. When you make your own money and have your own shit, you take away other people’s ability to negotiate with you and make demands for your time that they aren’t paying for. The pussy is the power. My pussy is the power.

January 31 2021

Cupid

I got bored last night around 11 and decided to jump into a Clubhouse room until I fell asleep. I don’t love the app but I have made a lot of industry connections there and for the most part, it has been a very safe space for me. I like it. Last night I came across a guy who told me that I needed balance. That my life could not possibly be fulfilling to me and that I needed a man or a partner to achieve happiness. He implied that my life was content, at best, and that I am not happy. I left the room. I refuse to argue with internet strangers who belittle people who do not share the same values as them and their 90 year old grandmas. As I fell asleep last night I started thinking about all of my past “partners” and I wondered; How is it that I am single when all of these people have come into my life through the years to make me happy? There was the one who beat me all the time and cocked guns in my mouth when he had a bad day at work. He beat me in public places and in front of our friends if he thought my clothes were too tight or my knee length dresses were too short when I sat down. How could I let him get away? Then, we have the guy who left me while I was at work one day. I came home to find that he had moved out and that he had been fucking one of his coworkers for over a year while he lived in my house rent free. They worked on skid row together. What a prize. There was even my ex girlfriend who thought I wanted to sleep with all of our male friends and who was more jealous than most men I have dated. She called me every morning at 5 am just to see if anyone else was in my bed. I left her when I realized she thought I was a hoe. A real winner. And I will never get past the trauma of my most recent ex boyfriend. He broke my heart in such a way that it will never heal and I almost killed myself from the pain of it. He is a sociopath. And surely, my life partner is not this young superstar I am fucking who busts in under 3 minutes every time we have sex and who hasn’t made me squirt yet even though I can trigger a g-spot orgasm with my pinky finger. The guy on Clubhouse last night was unhinged, clearly. I admire women who remain strong, stay in their bags, support their children and themselves, and who are able to make shit happen and maintain balance without a partner. Icons. That being said, I pray that cupid flies his fat cherub ass right over my house this year. I am just not interested anymore.

December 28 2020

Dance

I don’t believe in resolutions and I have lived long enough to know that the “New Year, New Me” bullshit that most people proclaim usually lasts for about 6 or 7 days. Good luck with that. I am no pessimist but if you enjoy eating cheeseburgers and chicken wings every day I can promise you that you are not going to miraculously wake up on January 1st wanting a kale salad and lemon water after your 5am workout. Get the fuck out of here with that. Be a realist. Know that we are all going to wake up in 2021 and COVID is still going to be a thing, we are still going to have a shitty President in office for another 25 days or so, people are still going to be unemployed and broke as the fallout from our government’s inadequacy will continue to prevail, Black Lives are probably still not going to matter to the masses and you, my dear, are still going to crave tacos on Tuesday and a good bottle of wine to celebrate every Friday for no damn reason. Calories, calories. This year has been tough for everyone I know and we are still in it. I had to stop thinking about this as a 2020 thing and look at it as an experience thing. A chapter of my life that is complicated, difficult, scary, and seemingly never ending. I pull my strength from my children, I live for them, and continue to play my role as a robot in this cross between the Twilight Zone and some Ray Bradbury-esque nightmare we all have starring roles in. Given the sheer horror of the current situation, I have strayed even further away from the idea of resolutions and instead, have made myself several promises that I am carrying with me from now on. They are very selfish and damn near narcissistic but my goal is to make myself happy and no one else matters.

• I promise to never ignore another red flag in any relationship and I don’t care if it is work related or personal. A red flag is a red flag and they cannot be ignored.

• No new friends. I am not interested in texting buddies and if it isn’t making me money, I don’t have time for it.

• Do Not Disturb. I have realized lately that I am at peace when I am not a slave to my phone and I am happy when I limit other people’s access to me. I don’t owe anybody shit and if I don’t respond to your 2am “Wyd” text messages and DM’s, please take the hint and leave me the fuck alone.

• Dance. My daughter and I had a staycation in August at The Renaissance and there was a live Dj. He started playing old school hip hop and R&B and I found myself Crip Walking to Snoop, Cha Cha sliding with strangers, and doing the Tootsie Roll on the edge of the pool when the 69 Boyz came on. It was lit. For a few hours there was no COVID, I wasn’t consumed with sadness, I didn’t miss my family, and I wasn’t yearning to be somewhere else. I was happy and the whole experience was fun. I will never pass up another opportunity to dance and that, my dear, isa promise.

December 12 2020

Read the Room

I wrote a new entry yesterday that I was going to post this morning then I realized how tone deaf it was when I started thinking about what is going on in the world today and things happening in my own life that I can not change. For the past two weeks there has been no good news and I am finally at my limit of what I can take and process. This whole fucking year has been a disaster. And please, save your…”It could be so much worse!”, and “You are better off than most people!”, comments. To me it all sounds like bullshit. I realize that it could be worse but it does not negate the fact that I feel very sad. Emotional. Depressed. My mom spent her 70th birthday alone, one of my sisters is getting a divorce, we have lost several family members this year to various causes, and I miss my son. I have not seen him in a year now and our daily FaceTime chit chats aren’t enough anymore. He is one final exam away from finishing up his first semester of law school and I am not there to celebrate with him because I have a 9 year old daughter I am trying to protect from both Covid and herself. She has been bullied a lot lately and her school alerted me that in her free time, she googles “suicide” and “ways to hurt myself” on her Chromebook. She told me she wanted people to know what it would feel like for her to be gone since they can’t be nice to her while they have her here. That broke me. I have friends who call me daily to unload all of their bullshit and transgressions on me without ever asking me how I am feeling. I don’t remember the last time someone called just to say hello and to have a normal conversation with me that wasn’t stressful and that didn’t end in me needing a blunt and a shot or two of Patron. Read the room. When you are going through something and you decide to reach out to a friend to get advice and discuss your problems, take a second to think about whether or not your burdens should become theirs. We are all going through stuff and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but there is no switch that is going to flip at midnight on New Year’s Eve and make it all go away. Do what you need to do to heal and protect yourself because you are going to wake up on January 1st and shit is going to be the same. I realize there is a complete and utter lack of positivity in this entry but I am not always in a fuck me, suck me, and put your dick down my throat mood. Lately, I am more of a “Why?”, “How did this happen?”, and “Help me please!” kinda girl. This shit sucks.

November 28 2020

The Party

I partied a lot in West Hollywood, Malibu, off of Sunset, and in Beverly Hills during my 20’s. People often assumed I had sex a lot because of the crowds I kept and how I made my money but honestly, I turned down lots of dick and pussy because for awhile, I had a man who wasn’t really into that sharing shit. He played for the Raiders and he wasn’t too happy about my lifestyle choices when he wasn’t around so I knew, once my girlfriend told me about the party, that I could not go. We had friends in the sports, music, and porn industries who were getting together to have an after party when they left Peanuts one Tuesday night and I wanted to go but it was a hard no for me. Although everyone knew me, they also knew he and I as a couple and if I was there and he wasn’t, they were going to let him know. He didn’t play that shit. My girlfriend called me around 11 that night and begged me to meet them at Peanuts. I knew I didn’t want to go to the fuck party after so I told her I couldn’t find a babysitter and that I would meet them at the party spot around 3. I lied. I wasn’t going. She didn’t know, but I knew she had herpes and she had already slept with about 5 of the dudes that were going to be there so I didn’t know if they had it or not. I couldn’t risk it. The pornstar that we knew had a dick the size of a small carrot and he was good friends with my man so that was a no for me, and my girlfriends boyfriend had already told her that he was going to fuck me that night which made me uneasy. He never asked me if it was something that I wanted to do. He told her not to get jealous, that it was fine, and that he expected her to wait in the living room while he fucked me in his master suite. I was terrified. I didn’t feel like I would have had a choice if I would’ve pulled up. Like I wouldn’t have been able to say no when he tried to fuck me. Herpes, my man’s friends, and me being the center of the sex show that night made me uneasy. I didn’t go. The next day around 4 in the afternoon she called me. She was so mad. “Where were you?”… “We waited all night!”… “It was fun but he wanted you.” She told me when they got there she got naked and made herself a drink. She opened the door naked as people arrived and within a few minutes, everybody was fucking. This would normally be my kind of party but I have an illogical fear of STD’s so I choose to be a little more selective with my pussy than most. And that’s okay. My man called me in the morning after he heard about the party and told me he loved me for not going. He said he didn’t trust the guys there and that he thought I might’ve been forced into things I did not want if I had gone. I flew up to Oakland that weekend for his game and all was well. A few weeks later, she and her man broke up. We were at her apartment one day scrolling through the messages we hacked into on his two way pager between him and his new chick and the girl was worried to death because he had open sores on his dick and she was scared they would soon be on her pussy. They all had Herpes now. My girlfriend acted like she had dodged a bullet and swore he must’ve picked up the virus from being a hoe and cheating on her. She laughed. I never looked at her the same after that because in my mind she was just nasty. Not for being infected, but for not being honest with people about it. The moral is that if it doesn’t feel right, it’s not. Stay your ass at home. Don’t let people make choices for you that can change the course of your life forever. xo

September 26 2020

Women

The best threesome I have had thus far has been with two women. It was much more intimate and fun than it had been when I was with two men or a husband and wife combo. The threesome with all women, to me, was more intimate, soft, and natural. There is something very arousing about being able to make other women experience multiple orgasms. I crave it. That night happened like any other Friday night at my place. My girls and my homeboys came over every weekend to drink and get high with me when I had my townhouse in Baldwin Hills and honestly, I didn’t even know one of the girls liked pussy. I knew my one girlfriend was bi because right before she got married, we went on a girl’s trip to Mexico and she ate my pussy on the Main Deck of the Carnival Cruise Ship we were on. We had a few of those slushy ass themed drinks and she sat me down on a bench, got on her knees, and pulled my legs over her shoulders. I will never forget the way this man sitting on the next bench looked at us but I will save that story for another entry (winks). So this Friday night, everyone had left and it was just the three of us. We hadn’t been talking about sex and the vibe was really chill so when I told them I was tired and thought we should go to the 4th floor bedroom to watch a movie, I had no clue it was about to go down. We went upstairs and got in my bed. I was on the right, my cruise ship partner, Ebony, was in the middle, and my other girl was laying on the left. I don’t remember what we were watching or how it escalated but the girl in the middle started rubbing my thigh and thumbing my clit. I tried to be still but I couldn’t and I am loud when I feel good so I started to moan. I wanted her. I wasn’t sure if my other girl was down yet so I told her we were going to sleep and that we would see her in the morning. She wasn’t even out of the bedroom yet before Ebony’s lips were on my pussy, my back was arched, and my hands were on my breasts. (I am getting wet just thinking about it). About 2 minutes later my other girlfriend came back in. She made some smart ass comment about not being a dummy, or tired and she sat on my face. The three of us made love for hours. Switching positions, taking turns with each other, moving from the bed, to the floor, to the tub, and back to the bed. No talking, just sex. The sun was up before we stopped fucking and we passed out in my bed. Together. We woke up around lunchtime and we were all naked. It was so sexy. We didn’t talk about what happened that night and the three of us never had sex, as a group, again. I have fucked both of them several times and it has always reminded me of that night. Sex with two other guys is cool and I love the variety of a man and a woman, but there is nothing like having sex with two other women at the same damn time.

August 15 2020

20’s

I had some of the best sex of my life this summer with two, young stallions who were both in their mid 20’s. It was the best dick I have had in years and I forgot what it felt like to be fucked like that. No, I did not fuck them both at the same time and as I type this I can honestly acknowledge that doing so might have taken my 42 year old ass out of here. The curved dick, the girth, and the overall stamina of the two combined is definitely enough to make any seasoned veteran tap out. They are both amazing and one was so good, I wanted to move his ass in for the summer so he could fuck me on demand and because waiting for him to get here felt like torture. I miss them both. Sex with them was way better than it is with men my age and older. Men in their 20’s seem to already be into unconventional sex. I love it. One of them liked to choke me a lot and play games with the tip of his dick. He would slide it in and out of my pussy and pretend he wasn’t going to let me have it. He is a tease. The other one…just thinking about him makes me moist…has the best stroke game in Dallas. Mind blowing. He already views sex as an art, loves to eat ass, is attracted to women who squirt, and never came before I did. A prodigy. He slid into my DM’s with a picture of his dick and a smile and the rest is history. He told me he wouldn’t disappoint me if I gave him a chance and he kept his word. The sex was refreshing. Older guys are so quick to say, “Baby get on top, ride this dick”. The youngsters, lol, they don’t say much. They take control and fuck you like they have to prove a point. They aren’t lazy. Sex with them is fun. A vibe. Obviously they were no more than sexual escapades. Trysts. I know that age does not make maturity, experience does, but eventually, we have to stop fucking and talk to one another and that is where the disconnect often lies. It’s a tragedy. These 40 year olds just aren’t fucking the way these 20 somethings are.

July 31 2020

Intimacy

I miss rubbing coconut oil on a man’s asshole, spreading his cheeks apart with my hands, and eating his ass. I miss having him roll over onto his back and hold his knees in the air so that I can suck his dick, balls, and play with his asshole at the same time. After that, I would usually sit on his face and move my hips back and forth until I cum or pee in his mouth, whatever he preferred. We would usually follow that up with passionate, missionary or side sex with one of my legs in the air, or his. A little doggy, choking, hair pulling, and tongue. Kissing was always very necessary. The sex, when I was in a relationship has always been A-1. It was always so intimate. I was talking to a girlfriend the other day about my decision to no longer entertain the idea of being in a relationship. Most people I know who are in one are divorcing, unhappy, cheating, or would rather be free. I have been played enough that as I have stated several times, I am no longer interested. When she asked me what I will miss the most about not having a partner, I realized that the absence of intimacy will haunt me forever. Fucking people with condoms, not kissing in the mouth, and not being able to explore their bodies freely is like conventional sex to me and it is boring. I sat here and pondered what it will be like to live a life full of masturbation, random sex partners when I want it, and voyeurism at its finest as I take solo trips to my fave swingers spots in Miami and LA once these Covid restrictions are lifted. It may sound fun to you but to me, it sounds like hell. I enjoy being fucked but I will want and need to make love again. I don’t remember the last time that I did and had I known it would be the last time, I would have savored it a little bit more. I would have let my tongue linger in places that taste good, swallowed more cum, moved my hips slower while I rode his face, and kissed him, or her more. I can always fuck. That is easy. I want to be intimate. I miss intimacy,

July 16 2020

Deep Throat

I have been sucking a few dicks lately, all different lengths and girths, in an effort to eliminate my gag reflex. A few weeks ago, I read Ordeal, the Autobiography of Linda Lovelace and I was mind blown when I read about her oral skills. She starred in a porno called Deep Throat back in the day that was screened in movie theaters all over the world and she became famous for her ability to swallow a dick without gagging on it, hence the name Deep Throat. The guy she was with at the time, who was an abusive asshole, taught her the same techniques that sword swallowers use to relax their throats and eliminate the need to gag and spit while swallowing. I was amazed. I want to know how to do it and I have been practicing with dicks, toothbrushes, dildos, and other long objects I have around the house. If I can use it to tickle the back of my throat, I am in here sucking on it in between work meetings and conference calls. A friend of mine came over the other night to chill and fuck. Instead, I sucked his dick, twice. He came once and the second time, I told him about Lovelace and that I wanted to practice my new skill. He said something that was very important…men like the gag reflex. They like the sound of it and the spit because it makes the head sloppy and wet. I already use coconut oil when I give head which tastes good, keeps it slippery, and makes an amazing lubricant for taking the dick straight from the mouth to the pussy or ass. But as much as I like it, I realize that it is not the same as the spit that forms at the back of your throat when you gag on a big ass dick. There is something about that sound, you know exactly what sound I am talking about, that makes the head better, wetter, and the dick harder. I want to be able to do both and pick and choose the head I am serving. I may want to gag on a dick, or I might just want to let it slide down my throat and hum on it while it goes in and out. I am a perfectionist and either way, you will cum. The second time I sucked his dick, I gave him a mixture of both and caught a good facial when he came. He loved it. Next time I see him, I am going to surprise his ass and have him in here going three for three with my perfect, head game.

July 3 2020

Comfort Zone

Every time I talk to one of my sisters or friends about my dating life they always say the same things…”You might meet someone if you date outside of your comfort zone…” or “You need someone who is tolerable but who isn’t your type, think outside of the box…” Fuck all that and that box. I am here to tell you that these statements don’t mean a fucking thing when it comes to dating and that you are just as likely to get lied to, ghosted, and cheated on by an NFL running back as you are by an older man who has one leg and is balding at the top. Trust me, I know this from personal experience and Hop-along really broke my heart because I had high expectations for him. I assumed I was out of his league and therefore, thought that he would treat me better than I had been treated before. Bullshit. I could not have been further out of my comfort zone which made him ghosting me hurt more than it usually does. When I date and fuck guys that are “my type”, I expect them to have other bitches, to entertain other hoes, and I know they all fuck other people. I am okay with that and I get it. I like to keep a solid rotation myself and I stopped believing in that soulmate shit about 5 years ago so bring the chick home and we can all have fun. This time, when I decided to put in some effort and try to make it happen with one leg Willy, he was worse than everyone else. He was a narcissist and a habitual liar and after what I went through with him, I decided that I will never date again. I do not want a relationship, I only want to fuck. Please, come over, fuck me until I can’t walk and go home. I will call you when I am ready to eat your ass or bend over and let you take this pussy. You can even shower and I might make you some tacos if I can stand up after. My body is available but my heart, mind, and soul are officially off the market. I refuse to allow myself to ever feel any pain again that is related to a man, or woman, being deceptive, covering shit up, flipping shit around, and playing the victim. A red flag is a red flag. It is not that the people in my comfort zone have issues or are a certain type, the issue is that men are full of shit and they lie a lot. You can have this pussy if you know what to do with it but the heart, it’s mine. No one will get it again and I am comfortable with that.

June 20 2020

Shit

I came so hard once that I shit on my ex boyfriends chest. We were in Miami and had been day drinking strawberry mojitos on the beach all day when we decided to go up to our room to fuck. We were so drunk. We started off having regular sex, then a little face down ass up action, he choked me, I squirted, sat on his face, and shit a little bit when I came. He never stopped eating me out. When I finished, he wiped the shit off his chest, we showered, and didn’t talk about it for at least a month. We laughed and had so many jokes when we finally addressed “shitgate”. I know, I know the shit is literally disgusting but doesn’t weird stuff always happen when you are fucking? Ladies, I bet you were shook the first time you heard your pussy fart and men, do you ever cum so hard that you fart when you bust from getting your dick sucked? If not, your girl, or guy might be doing it wrong ;) I have always romanticized sex and thought my partners and I would bust at the same time, it would be so sensual, our fuck faces would be on point, and our rhythm would never be off. Yeah, that shit is just not always realistic. That’s that MGM sex. I have tripped in the bedroom, fallen, damn near thrown up because I was gagging so hard on the monster dick in my mouth, and there was that one time I came so hard that I thought I was going to die. I prayed to sweet baby Jesus to take my soul and everything because my whole body tensed up from the nutt. My shit is more Pornhub Amateur than Hollywood studio. Listen, sex for me has never really been perfect but it has always been an adventure which to me, is exactly what sex should be. It should be fun, sexy, sweaty, dirty, wet, fast, soft, slow, and hard. I am not into anything vanilla and if you can make me cum so hard that I am unable to control my bodily functions, you may know what you’re doing in the bedroom. I know this is one of the most taboo things I have ever put out there and you might be disgusted but I am also into anal and hey, shit happens.

June 10 2020

You’re Not Doing Enough

I started because I was curious and obviously, I work really hard on my body so I like people to see it. Being naked feels more natural to me than having my clothes on. My first pictures were in bikinis and shit, or shower pics with my nipples covered with emojis over them and my fingers in my pussy. I was trying not to show a lot because I wanted people to tip me to see more. It was boring. After a few days, two of my male friends joined and they both said the same thing, “You’re not doing enough”… So, I decided to do more. I went from having my own, personal Titty Tuesday parties to posting a series of squirt videos and cum shots every morning. This has gone from nudes to soft porn in the matter of a month and I am addicted to it. Everyday, I think about what I can post next to keep my followers entertained and coming back. I love it when they message me videos and pics of their own nutt after watching me cum. I aim to please. My boy says that other girls tease too much on their pages so it has never been worth it to him. He says this is different and that he wakes up every morning with his dick in his hand, waiting to see what I posted on my page so he can jack off to me. I love it. I have done private shows for guys, girls, married couples, I play games, send random videos to followers, and Face Time, damn near on demand, if the money is right. It is a lot of work to keep it spicy but I am having so much fun. I like to post a variety of things because I hate redundancy and I am sure my followers do too. I have become my own agent, PR person, bookkeeper, saleswoman, and D list, soft porn star because I want to make sure that I am doing….enough.

June 1 2020

You See Us Now

It was hot as hell in Texas today. I checked the temperature at 4 and it was still around 91 degrees when I left to head to Dawn’s house. I thought for sure that if I went, I would pass out, but I had to go. There was going to be a protest in our city for the murder of George Floyd and I couldn’t miss it. One of my white friends asked me why I was so compelled to participate and I told her that my daughter was too young and that my son can’t protest because he is a young, black man and therefore, he is a target. My sister and I pulled up to the site where the march was going to start and I was immediately overcome with anxiety and emotion that I masked by taking selfies and videos of the crowd. I was crying on the inside. I know that black men and women have been targets for years but when Trayvon Martin got murdered in 2012, something changed in me. I started to take notice. I could not understand how he left to go to the store and didn’t make it back home because a white man was scared of him. I remember asking my son to stop wearing hoodies at the time because I was scared for his life and since then, I have become more conscious of the deaths of black people by the boys in blue and other racists. You know, I don’t handle death very well. I never have. Last week, I watched George Floyd get murdered and I have felt sick ever since. I have anxiety, fear, anger, and pain. I had to go to the protest today. I had to do something, be part of history, set an example for my children and show them that it is okay to be heard. There were over 1000 people at the march and I never knew that seeing that many people take a knee at one time could be so emotional. The organizers started playing Sam Cooke’s, A Change is Gonna Come, and I lost it. No more selfies, no random crowd videos, just tears. I put my face in my hands and cried. Soon after, we all got up, and marched back over the bridge…”No Justice No Peace”…”I Can’t Breathe”…”Black Lives Matter”…”We Fight with Ahmaud”… I know I usually write about sex and drugs, and all things taboo. Sorry if this one bores you but it was the most necessary post I have written since Elijah got killed in Jacksonville, by a white man, while he was playing video games. You see us now.

#GeorgeFloyd #AhmaudArbery #TrayvonMartin #SandraBland #BothamJean #PhilandoCastile #EricGarner #TamirRice #AtatianaJefferson #MichaelBrown #ElijahClayton #BlackLivesMatter

May 24 2020

Mushrooms

I love dick. And although I can eat pussy just as good as I give head, or maybe even better, nothing compares to having a strong, hard, penis inside of me. Lately, I have been getting a lot of dick pics from strangers in my DM’s and to be honest, most of them are ugly. As infatuated as I am with giving head and being an oral people pleaser, there are few things, in my mind, as unattractive as a dick. They look like mushrooms to me and I know that most men are infatuated with their own penises but honestly, some of them are fucking scary to look at. I think most women have these visions in our minds of what a perfect dick looks like. Some women prefer small dicks, some like them straight and narrow like pencils, I have friends who prefer them to be short and fat, and even had a girlfriend tell me once that she hated big dicks because they were too hard for her to manage. I never judged her but always wondered what she meant. How can a dick be too big? Anyway…I have my idea of a perfect dick and what it looks like. It also looks like a mushroom and when I picture it in my mind, or have a man in my bed who has one of these masterpieces, my pussy gets wet immediately and I can’t seem to keep my mouth off of him. The mushroom is the head. I love a good head because I like to spend a lot of time there during oral sex. That and the perineum are the most sensitive areas on most men and I like to end there and catch what comes out if I finish at the tip. The shaft has to be wide, not narrow, preferably with a slight curve to it. Getting fucked by something that resembles a pencil is no fun and I have felt like my pussy was getting stabbed from the inside out by a man with a thin, swordlike dick with no hip control. The perfect dick to me has a soft head, a strong shaft that I can barely wrap my hand around, is longer than 7 inches hard, and has balls that are not too big and not too small. I like to put both of them in my mouth at the same time. I don’t discriminate when it comes to men I date and it is always interesting to see the rainbow of dicks that come with men from different, ethnic backgrounds. Trust me, I can work a pale rider just as good as I can ride a trojan horse so skin color doesn’t matter. For me, I just want a hard dick, that is thick, smells good, and isn’t sticky upon arrival. We all have our preferences. These are mine.

May 12 2020

The Boat

I was talking to one of my sister’s the other day about the most hoe shit I have ever done. I started to think about it and It was harder than I thought it would be to really put my finger on it because I have done some reckless shit. For example, I was engaged to be married twice and I had an engagement party once. It was at my mom’s house. While everyone was taking shots and eating cake, I was in the front bathroom fucking one of my ex girlfriends on the counter. Nobody knew. I also fucked this music producer in Miami once. That would’ve been okay but he was dating one of my girlfriend’s at the time and she was there with us. She had one too many Call a Cab’s at Wet Willie’s so I dipped off with him down Collins and we smashed in his suite at The Loew’s. She never knew and as terrible as that was, that was not even close to being my worst. I went to Vegas once with a friend of mine. She and I did some gambling and then hit Lake Mead with her dude and his friends to jet ski and party on some houseboats. Most of the guys there had Sea-Doo’s and shit but this one guy, he had a speedboat. They were fly and at the time, we really weren’t buying boats yet. The only reason I was attracted to him was because I knew he was ballin’ so I wanted to fuck him. I had to. I didn’t even know his real name. The problem is, he was there with his girl and like 3 or 4 of her friends. She was average and there was nothing fly about her. I couldn’t figure out why he was with her but I didn’t care. She took his boat out and raced across the lake while he and I smoked some weed and eye fucked each other all day. A few hours later he asked me if I wanted to ride on his boat and obviously, I did. He took me to the middle of the lake, turned the boat off, pulled my wet suit down, and fucked me. I know his girl could tell that the engine was off and that the boat was idle. We were out there for about an hour. I kept thinking that she and her girls were going to pull up and try to beat my ass or that they would be waiting for me when we got done. They didn’t pull up and when we got back, she just ignored me for the rest of the day. My girl had a glock with her and I guess nobody wanted any smoke. I told my sister this story and she just looked at me and shook her head. No judgement. She wasn’t even shocked. I could’ve drowned on Lake Mead for some dick the size of my middle finger from a guy I can’t name. Just hoe shit.

May 5 2020

Only Fans

Come on. You knew it was only a matter of time before I made one for myself. I have worked hard on my body and I love the idea of people seeing me naked and masturbating to images and videos of me. If you have been reading this blog, you are well aware that at age 5, I aspired to be a Playboy bunny and that people with voyeuristic tendencies are intriguing to me. Hef is long gone now and I won’t be anybody’s centerfold, but the idea of being naked for strangers is sexy to me, not shameful. Reddit says to start slow. I should show familiar pics to my followers and then start exposing myself a little bit more. Everyday, a little bit more. Pictures first, then videos, then start selling the real shit in my only fans inbox. I guess I will have to play with it. I have always been more of an all or nothing woman. Why beat around the bush and show nipples and ass cheeks when you have a pretty pussy with big lips. I am not sure how long I will be in the OF world but I am excited at the thought of turning people on and am driven by that more than anything else. Come see me ;)

https://onlyfans.com/yellagirl02

April 29 2020

Scarface

I was strung out on weed, Ecstasy, and primos in my mid 20’s. We were still smoking chronic in Cali and I could not start my day without a fresh blunt dipped in hash oil or topped off with some white. During my video girl days, my friends and I met this group of guys who lived in the Hollywood Hills, above Sunset. We spent most of our time there fucking each other, or the guys, getting high, and playing with the machine guns that were scattered around the house. It was a movie. I knew about three of their names. The names of the guys I fucked, and the name of the main dude, the Kingpin. He never really spoke much but was happy when we were there. Imagine waking up in the morning, dropping your son off at school, popping a sugar booger, Ecstasy, and going to get high. Not just a little bit high either…but how in the fuck did I get here, HIGH!!! And how in the fuck am I going to get home??? I was in undergrad and one day after class, I rolled up to the hills. There was a gate that my girls and I had the code to and a long, steep driveway to get up to the house. They knew we had our own shit so we could pop up whenever we wanted. They trusted us. The swimming pool was in the front yard. That day, everyone was by the pool and 3 of my girls were there, naked. My girlfriend said that I was late and that I missed a show. So I took my clothes off and decided to put on one of my own, with her. In the pool and on the deck so everyone could see. Fucking, getting high, and being naked were so normal at the house that people either stood around and watched, joined in, or casually ignored it while they played Madden. We had our own world with them. We would be in the club, in the VIP area, and people never fucked with us. Other guys would send us bottles and cash and ask us to be sure we told the guys at the house, that they said hello. We were untouchable. I was in class one day and got a call that the main guy got locked up and that everyone was shook. He was going to be away for a very long time and our party was over. I drove up to the house and it was like someone had died. No one was fucking, the machine guns had already been dumped, and nobody was high. As crazy and dangerous as it was, I miss it, a lot. It was wild and it was fun. Shit was lit. No period in my life has been as memorable as that. Not in that way. It was a fucking movie.

April 18 2020

Men

Men are very manipulative creatures, or at least they try to be. I had one call me a broke bitch yesterday because I refused to go on a date with him, and another one tried to engage me in a legal battle tonight because I did not stop what I was doing to speak to him on the phone. It seems like no matter what my terms are, if they don’t align with theirs, I am worthy of their lies and further attempts at manipulation. Who in the fuck do men think they are? Do they find no credence in Beyonce’s Run the World? Do they not see the truth behind my resting bitch face which is; I have been content without you and I will continue to be if you would so kindly, “Leave me the fuck alone!!!” I did not send for any of you. And yes, I love talking about sex and posting provocative pictures of myself on the internet but it is my body, I have worked very hard on it, and I like to be naked. I am tired of the sexual innuendos, weak ass attempts to get my nudes into your DM’s, and the propensity of a lot of you to try to engage me in sexual conversations every time I post a bikini pic. It is not happening. Women are very empowered and most of us, don’t need men for shit. I have a sex toy that fucks me with the push of 2 buttons. I can cum simultaneously from my g-spot and my clit in about 3 minutes and roll over and go to sleep. I do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and how I want and to do it. It is going to take more than a small fee and a ride in your shiny car to get me to like you. So the next time you try to buy a woman or degrade her because she does not settle for your shit or believe your lies, make sure that you have brushed your teeth, remember that she has her own shiny car, and remember that men like you will come and go. She will still be happy, and completely unbothered.

April 14 2020

Group Sex

I love orgies and sex parties. I get turned on watching other people have sex and sometimes, joining them. I have been part of the Swingers lifestyle for about 7 years now and I never turn down an opportunity to watch people fuck. A few weeks ago, I was invited to attend a virtual, lifestyle party but I missed it. I got an email before it started saying that there was a wait list of over 1200 people and honestly, I was overwhelmed. Some men pay to see me do the things that I do to myself at those parties and I didn’t want to put on a free show. This past weekend, I was feeling a little freaky so I put my daughter to bed, grabbed my favorite toys, and logged into the Zoom meeting room on Saturday night. I was early, because my ass is always punctual, and I found myself in the room with the owner of the club, his wife, 3 Dj’s, and some people who worked at the venue. There were about 11 of us and it was awkward. I had a sheer tank top on that pushed my boobs up and out of the top of it and my hair was curly, all over my head but sexy. As more people started logging in, I noticed that the owner made me a presenter and I was no longer an outsider, I was a host. For some reason, I wasn’t nervous at all. I was aroused. Excited. I touched my hair, smiled a lot, and played with my toys. As people began to log in, they saw me. The owner and his wife began to message me in the chat box and I was happy to oblige them as a “party starter”. Soon, there were over 400 people on my computer screen and I began scrolling through all of the pages to look at the small windows into their worlds. Some people were fucking, some were masturbating, giving oral, receiving oral, or just watching. Imagine everything you search for on Pornhub being on your screen at once. Whatever you pictured, it was that, but ten times better. It was truly an experience that I will never forget and one that I will think about anytime I hear the words lockdown, quarantine, or shelter in place.

March 28 2020

Quarantine

My ex texted me today to tell me he wanted to eat my ass and that he misses the way I taste. I see some of us are handling the quarantine a little better than others. Maybe he was high or drunk, I am sure it was 5 o’clock somewhere, but the thought of his mouth anywhere on my body makes me cringe. He can not let a bout of stir-crazed hysteria give him amnesia. Surely he remembers how he treated me like dog shit while we were together and how he broke my heart. What I wanted to say was…“The last time I had sex was about a month ago and I got paid 1500. The guy lasted for about 7 minutes. Run me a band or 2 and I’ll sit on your face.” That’s actually the truth, the money part, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Being on lockdown is difficult enough and where my pussy has been is none of his business. Life is crazy right now. The days are all jumbled together. I have to look at the calendar sometimes to remember what day it is. It seems easier being at home all day but mentally, I am terrified. I get butt ass naked every time I get home from making a paper towel run and I have started unintentionally distancing myself from my almost 9 year old daughter. I leave her at home when I go out and I am not sure what I am exposed to at my neighborhood Target. I talk to my 23 year old son daily but in my heart, I know I can not convince him of how terrifying the virus is. I pray a little bit harder for him as he ignores the shelter in place orders for the city of LA and hangs out with his brothers, smoking backwoods and gettin’ bitches. None of us are immune to COVID and the truth is, we will not all make it to the other side of this pandemic. I am either calm and resolute or paranoid and bleaching the counters at 3 am. Stay home. Please, stay home. Don’t be an asshole or test your fate against something that will be in history books long after we have all died. Don’t be stupid. And do not…DO NOT…text you ex. Life is stressful enough. Don’t let cabin fever cause you to get your feelings hurt. We have enough shit to be worried about.

March 16 2020

Goals

I have wanted to be a Playboy Bunny since I was about 5 years old. I always thought they were so pretty and I wanted to get paid to be sexy, walk around naked, and be able to fuck in the grotto at the Mansion. I love to surf and I haven’t been in over a year because I have been too busy working that I have neglected my passions. I have about 4 new books in my library that I have not opened because I planned to read them this summer while traveling the Caribbean and Greece. I was talking to a girlfriend of mine in January, a few days after Kobe died, and we discussed the virus that was unfolding in China. I remember telling her that this was going to be bad, very bad, and that life as we know it was going to change. I have been thinking lately about my life experiences and what my story would be. I have spent so much time working, sleeping, and focusing on money that I have not been living. I would hate for someone to eulogize me and say, “Here lies Andrea. She worked tirelessly to make sure her bills were paid and that her kids ate but she didn’t do anything exciting before she died because all she could think about was making money, and not wasting her time on toxicity and bad sex. She leaves behind Gucci bags, Louis luggage, and a limited edition Celine lambskin but we can’t find any pictures of how she spent her final days.” Terrible. None of us know what is going to happen in the coming weeks. We do know that people will be able to wipe their asses and wash their hands until they are raw, and that toilet paper is a apparently a hot commodity when people panic. But we do not know if they will be around to shit in a month because it seems like although there is nothing but coverage about the Coronavirus, it has become increasingly difficult to discern the truth. I am going to start fucking more, eating more tacos, reading more books, and making the memories I can from the confines of my home and the bubble I have found myself in. Live your life but don’t be reckless. Although I don’t think that this virus is a death sentence for all who get it, it is impossible for me to live at a time like this and not ponder my own mortality and think about what’s important…what are my goals?

March 1 2020

Ides of March

The 15th of March has been unlucky since Caesar got killed in 44 BCE. He got stabbed 23 times but died from one, fatal entry wound to the chest, near his aorta. My birthday is on a Friday this year and the 13th is an unlucky number regardless of what month we are in. I have never been into numerology and shit like that but I do have my own, personal Ides of March every year on 3/13. It is kind of symbolic to me that Caesar died from a stab wound close to the heart because mine is always broken. I get really bad anxiety around my birthday and I don’t ever know if I want people to celebrate me or leave me the fuck alone. I am going to be 42 in 2 weeks and I feel empty. What in the fuck have I done since I got here? Am I having a midlife crisis? Am I supposed to dump my black on black AMG and go get some bright ass red vette? Do I have to give in and let some fuckboy into my life so that I don’t grow old and start collecting stray cats? I am usually so strong and independent and don’t give a fuck about anybody and I think I have become so hardened, that I don’t really care about myself at this point. I am bored. I wake up in the morning and get excited when I realize that in about 12 hours, I can go black to sleep. There are about 5 people I talk to on the phone during the week and 3 of them are related to me. I am uninterested in hearing about other people’s lives and I could care less about what happened to them on their way home from work. Something has changed in me over this past year and I don’t love it. I have become preoccupied with negativity and overtly pessimistic. A clear combination of watching the news and being fed up with everyone else’s bullshit. This is not a blog entry to me but more of a rant. People always say that God has plans for me and that I am supposed to trust Him. The thing is that I do trust Him and I am very faithful. I am just beginning to wonder if this is it? Is this what God planned? Am I waiting for something that is already happening? Because if this is it…if this is how it’s going to be…count me out. I am completely unimpressed and feeling very, very unfulfilled.

February 21 2020

Daddy’s Girl

A woman’s first love is her father. She will compare every man she meets to him so it is very important that men take care of their daughters. My advice would be to love them the way you want them to be loved because when they get older, every decision they make in regards to men and what they tolerate, will be tied to you. I was 7 when my father died and I relive the day every morning when I wake up. I even remember what I wore to school that day and how hot the asphalt was on the playground. My dad loved me and my sisters. Unconditionally, wholeheartedly, and immensely. I developed daddy and trust issues because his death was so sudden that my young mind never processed it and as a result, I always think that men will leave, that it is okay if they don’t come back, and that love is supposed to hurt. My daughter’s father and I broke up when she was not even 2 years old and she will be 9 in April. She is extremely intuitive and smart and is learning some daddy lessons of her own. Her father has a family now and I could not be happier for him. However, my heart breaks for my daughter. She used to be the center of his world and now, she is not. He is teaching her that no matter how much attention she wants from him, that she has to tolerate being number 2 and to accept other girls being around when she does not want them to be. He is teaching her that what she wants does not matter and that a man’s decision is the only decision. He is teaching her that spending some time with a man is better than not spending anytime with him at all. These lessons will hit her hard one day and she will grapple with her inability to understand why men treat her the way they do and why her heart feels broken all the time. I will hold her, encourage her not to give up on love, and abandon my own misconceptions so that she is not discouraged about finding it for herself one day. Men, don’t underestimate the importance of your roles in your daughter’s lives. There is nothing greater than a girl’s love for her dad and she is counting on you to be her example. Don’t fuck that up.

February 16 2020

Plot Twist

I am sitting here thinking about myself and why I am the way that I am. My dad died when I was 7 so I have serious abandonment issues. I was bullied when I was growing up so I am an introvert and honestly, I can not stand being around other people. I was in two, physically and mentally abusive relationships so my tolerance for men is at an all time low and I have sugar coated shit for a very long time so now, I have no filter. This guy just texted me and asked if I was sexually attracted to him and I almost threw up in my mouth. The hustler in me wants to lie and say, “Of course I am baby. I can’t wait to see you again!” He always gives me a rack when I go down on him but today, I just can’t lie. The problem is, I went to give him head once and I could smell shit in his asshole. It was obvious that even though he knew he was going to get his dick sucked that day, it hadn’t occurred to him that he should clean his ass first and I have never gotten over it. It’s a hard no for me. I know he is waiting for me to reply but I don’t have anything nice to say and I am completely unapologetic. I am thinking about saying, “I was attracted to you until I smelled shit in your ass.” I know it is brutally honest but at least we can have a serious conversation about his hygiene. Or, I can ignore him and block him, which is what I usually do when I have no interest in people anymore but I keep thinking about money and how much I love to spend everybody else’s. Sigh… Decisions. Decisions.

January 23 2020

Karma

I used to get mad as hell when people fucked me over. I would put my petty boots on and take jabs below the belt any time some asshole decided to do me wrong. It is crazy how things change overtime and how mature I have become in the past few years. When my ex hurt me, I couldn’t wait to tell everyone that I turned him out by pegging him and making him watch transexual porn. Now that I look back, I regret it. Recently, he texted me and told me he had a lover and that he felt confused. You know what I felt…sorry for him. I almost ruined that man’s life by outing him and it wasn’t very nice of me. Recently, someone who I thought was a friend did some shady shit to me. I was mad because I knew she was foul and I wanted to let her ass have it but I chilled and prayed on it. Instead of being impulsive, I decided to wait. I was having my coffee this morning and another friend of mine decided to serve me up some tea on the chick who did me wrong. I listened and shook my head. I have some information on her that could end her career, fuck up her family, and really send her life into a fucking tailspin. The old me would have contacted her job and let them know what she has going on. Why not? She fucked up one of my bags so why not take away the only one she has? But nah….I can’t do it. The new me knows that I am only happy when I give up my need to control situations. I know that karma is very real and I don’t want to fuck up mine by ruining her. I guess the point is that when things happen to you because of decisions that other people make, you have to let that shit go. Sit back and wait on that boomerang to come around and do the work for you. I have learned to chill, be patient, and grow from things that happen to me. I just ask that karma show people the same love and discernment that they have shown me ;)

#peace

January 16 2020

8 Seconds

Imagine being on the verge of having a mental breakdown and getting a call from someone you love right before the first tear rolls down your cheek. The mental pity party you were having 3 seconds ago is cut short by a familiar voice….the voice of someone you know will say exactly what you need to hear to get yourself back on track. Sounds perfect doesn’t it??? It’s all bullshit. Get over it. Good luck getting anyone to honestly care about you and your feelings these days. If you are going to need their attention for more than 8 seconds you can fucking forget about it because according to Science, we can sustain attention for 8 seconds and then our minds are gone. 8 seconds of eye contact and real human interaction followed by hours staring at iPhone screens looking at selfies, Snapchat, and tweets about flu paranoia and unnecessary wars. We have turned into soulless robots who buy ugly shit because it’s trendy, get dressed and go places just to take selfies there, and kill each other over chicken sandwiches. You know I keep seeing all this New Year, New Me shit plastered all over social media and to be honest, I am fucking over it. Stop making goals to lose weight and travel more when the people in your inner circle are dying inside but scared to say anything or say they are hurting because you are too wrapped up in your own life to give a fuck. It doesn’t matter if you hit your goal weight or save ten thousand dollars this year if you are a shitty person on the inside. I am not saying that we should allow others to fill our minds with their toxicity. God knows we all have that person in our groups who complains about EVERYTHING. Tell that mother fucker to hire a therapist or cut them off. What I am saying is that if you call someone and they say, “Hey…I am having a really bad day”, and you hear them make that sound your voice makes just before you ugly cry, don’t tell them that you don’t have time for this shit right now. Realize that it was very hard for them to say those words out loud and that they need you. You might save a life.

December 22 2019

Bush

I haven’t had sex in so long that I have managed to grow a 1970’s style bush. I keep it trimmed and neat on the sides but I haven’t had a wax in so long that it is hard to remember what my lips look like when they are bare. I keep having wet dreams and my vibrator only frustrates me now. Squirting is a chore when you don’t have someone’s face to sit on. I want a body in between my legs. I am ready to be fucked. People always make resolutions going into the New Year. Some people declare happiness, others set unrealistic weight loss goals, some people decide to build on last year’s failures and grow….I just want a man who isn’t broke and who has a big dick. Someone who makes me want to keep my bi weekly wax appointments and who makes me wet when I think about giving him head. I am happy to have been celibate all this time. I have learned a lot about myself and learned a lot about men and their priorities. Once fucking is not an option, a lot of these guys skirt off like the roadrunner and I am cool with that. I keep saying that I am not interested in catching anymore bodies so I appreciate a man who shows his true colors when the pussy is off the table. I will not fuck you for a Yamada Roll and a blunt. I want an emotional attachment, security, someone who can make me laugh, and someone with a strong stroke game. I promise I don’t bite, unless you ask me to, and I am probably a bigger freak than you could imagine. I am ready for my partner….where are you???

Signed, Bush

December 11 2019

Narcissist

My ex is a clown. I have been getting long text messages from him since Sunday and I read and delete all of them. He is begging to come and see me, apologizing for being an asshole and not loving me right, and asking me to give him another chance. Yeah so…it’s a strong No for me! I have not seen him in almost 2 years and I can honestly say that there is not a drop of love in my soul for that man. While we were together, he lied to me habitually, had me fly to New Jersey because he said his family was throwing a BBQ to meet me and broke up with me when I got there, and once told me he was on a flight to Dallas then called an hour later and said he lied, he had never gotten on the airplane. I used to think he had CTE from his years of playing in the NFL but now I think he is just crazy. A clown. Either that or I put up with too much of his shit when we were together so he thinks he can hop scotch his silly ass back into my life. It’s crazy how you can go from licking someone’s asshole and peeing on them in hotel showers to not wanting to see them at all. I thought that was going to be my last relationship but instead, he left scars on my heart that will probably never heal. It’s sad. A constant cycle of making up just to break up and quick weekend trips to fuck and smoke followed by long weeks of light conversation and lies. Now he says that he will never find a woman who loved him like me and that he can’t believe he fucked up so bad. He thinks we are still soulmates and said he will always love and miss me… Tsk Tsk Tsk… I know his ass will. He is delusional and it is a wrap. His ass was barely worth this post but I just had to get it out.

December 7 2019

Hoe

I called one of my girlfriends yesterday morning and told her I decided to become a prostitute. I was pretty sure that I was going to quit my jobs and secure my bag by becoming a hoe. She asked me if I was sure and when I said yes, told me to let her know what corner I would be on so she could bring me some hot chocolate. It was cold in Dallas yesterday. I went online and joined 2 Sugar Daddy sites because I had to start somewhere. I uploaded a few picks and had several messages from men and women within minutes and they all wanted to see my pussy, ass, and nudes. I blocked them. I read through the profiles and realized that I do not have it in me to suck and fuck strangers for 200 dollars and a chance to go to Spain in the summer if I was passport ready. I deleted the sites. I didn’t want to be a hoe yesterday. I am just very, very, very lonely and I want to be fucked. Sex is as vital to life as air and water and I don’t remember the last time I had it. I do know that when this celibacy run comes to an end, whoever I let into my bedroom will be blessed. I miss touching, tasting, licking sucking, teasing, and riding and I promise to put that ass to sleep once I get it. I am so glad I came to my senses yesterday and decided to masturbate instead of host a stranger in my house for 50 dollar head. A few hours later I realized that being a hoe was not my best idea and called my girlfriend back to let her know that I changed my mind. I worked until 5 yesterday and signed out of work.

November 24 2019

Anal

A lot of women don’t like anal sex and that is okay. I, for one, love it. The bedroom is probably the only space in my life where men are allowed to have some sort of dominance over me and I like letting someone else be in control sometimes. When I first started taking it in the ass, I used to talk to my gay bestie about it. I strive for perfection and I needed his advice on how to get past the feeling that I would shit on my partner. I would ask; “What if I shit on him?” “Will my asshole get wet by itself?” “Should I throw it back or be still?” He laughed and answered every question for me, helping me become a pro. He told me to watch what I eat that day. Although shit happens, there are ways to avoid it. They call it fudge packing for a reason and while a boyfriend or steady partner may laugh it off and shower with you, someone new will be irreversibly disgusted. I also learned, over time, that your asshole lubricates itself like a vagina does although it may not get as wet. This comes with foreplay. You can’t really go from slow kissing to, “Baby put your dick in my ass!, without some sort of build up. I like to have “regular sex” first and let my man end back there. At this point in my life, I like to throw it back a little but that is because I am used to it. If you are new to anal play it is important to take your time. Those people you see on Pornhub are not new to the game unless you like amateur videos and I can assure you that those women’s assholes have taken several dicks. Sex stores sell lube that is made specifically for anal sex and I advise you to buy yourself some and a small clit stimulator. If you lay on your stomach, tilt your ass up and masturbate while he dives into the deep unknown, you can focus on making yourself cum and it takes the edge off a bit. You may want to start adding anal play to your personal masturbation sessions. Medium sized dildos are perfect for personal exploration and give you an opportunity to find your limits. My advice is so cliche’ but hey, “Don’t knock it til you try it!” And to my two girlfriends who called me asking for advice on anal sex this week, you are welcome! xoxo

November 9 2019

Inconvenient

Dating, for me, has become inconvenient and dull. People lack the ability to hold viable conversations and I think some of you men are trying to bore me to death with your bullshit chit chat and small talk. I am also convinced that most of you are incapable of talking about social issues, sports, and politics. I am really trying to put myself out there more and date but everyone I meet is a liar, boring as fuck, 5 foot 1, or lacks conversational reciprocity. I think dating should be fun and interesting. Instead, it feels forced and inconvenient. I always find myself having to explain to people that just because I am not doing anything, does not mean I want to be doing it with them. I don’t remember the last time I met someone who made me excited to get dressed, leave my panties at home, and roll out. I would rather masturbate to thoughts of people I used to fuck than have actual sex with these dull as people in my inbox. Spice it up, damn!!! I am extremely educated and funny but you will never know if you keep sending me Wyd texts all day. Let’s talk about the solar system, religion, why all the men in those statues back in the day have such small dicks, and whether or not women pee or cum when we squirt. Don’t play yourself by asking me what I am doing all day. The answer will always be…I AM IN MY BAG!!!!! If you have my phone number, you are closer to me than most and I gave it to you because I think I like you. If you bring dry ass, fuckboy energy to my phone, your ass is getting blocked! #message

October 24 2019

New York

I remember walking into the Disney Store in Times Square with a sandwich covered in nutt inside of it. I hadn’t eaten since the day before when I landed in NY to meet my sister for the Super Bowl. I was starving. I ordered the sandwich and stopped to meet a friend of mine who played for the Bears in his hotel room. I gave him some head but was too hungover to swallow it so when he got up to grab a towel, I spit the cum into the white bag I got from the deli downstairs. I kept it because I had some salty ass potato chips inside and figured I would eat them later. I was obviously still very fucked up. I was leaving the Disney Store and a friend from Baltimore hit me up. He was still faded from the night before too. I fucked him. I had some KY warming liquid in my purse and we were covered in it. We couldn’t stop sweating and it seemed like we had sex forever. Realistically, it was about eight minutes. To this day, we still laugh about it. I did some more shopping, hit up The Dry Bar to get my hair done because I had fucked and sucked it into a frenzy, and went back to my hotel to order some room service. The chips were a no go. I was so tired. My sister and I linked back up and hit up the ESPN players party. I chatted it up with JD and his manager at the Dj booth and rocked out to Kendrick Lamar until my feet were numb. We made memories that I will spend the rest of my life trying to replicate. The whole 4 days was a movie. Life comes at you pretty fast. I didn’t have time to stop and think too much on that trip. One minute I was bent over on a Penthouse floor and the next I was sipping champagne with Gayle King and taking pics with Jesse Jackson. I did everything that I wanted to do that trip and the only regret I have is ruining my sandwich. I should’ve swallowed.

October 18 2019

Tinder

I have met some interesting people on the internet lately. There is the couple that wants me to come over and watch them fuck, the guy who wants to try on my red bottoms and strut around my walk in closet, the one who likes to send me short media clips of himself impersonating Chris Brown, and the man whose net worth is less than mine but asked me to sign an NDA so that we could go to dinner. I forwarded his paperwork to two of my attorneys for review and they both laughed. They refused to read it and told me I should be worried about someone who asks me to sign a non disclosure agreement to have some sea bass and a drink. They were right. I told him it was a hard no for me and pictured him shoving gerbils up his ass and eating with his feet in a room full of whips and chains while praising satan. I wasn’t interested. I started to wonder, “Do people go for this shit?” “Are we really asking people to sign contracts to meet us?” “Does that guy really think he sounds like Chris Brown?” “Was the couple going to fuck me too or did they really just want me to watch?” Every time I think I want to date I am reminded that there is a new normal and I am not part of it. Can’t we just go have a drink, catch a vibe, hit Top Golf, laugh a little bit and talk about football? Are there any men out there who don’t want to wear my shoes and any chicks out there who don’t want to stay up all night being toxic and talking about other bitches? If this is you, please come find me. I am really over this shit and if I go get a third cat, it’s a wrap!!! I don’t want to be the old, masturbating cat lady. I want someone I can ride every night, cook for, and rub on their private parts until I fall asleep. Where are you???

October 8 2019

Fall

There are 2 women I know who call me daily for emotional support and a shoulder to cry on because recently, their “men” broke up with them. Both of the guys are assholes and neither one of them deserved to call these women theirs. One of the chicks drove for three hours to spend the weekend with her dude at his new house. When she got there, he met her at a Starbuck’s to break up with her and she had to drive all the way home in tears. She told me she pulled over several times to cry and because she thought she was going to pass out because her heart hurt so bad. What a fucking dick! The other girl had a disagreement with her dude about flirting and what should be considered appropriate behavior when you are in a relationship. He ghosted her and 4 days later he was on Instagram with his ex bitch. Asshole! I am not surprised anymore when I hear these stories. I have more married men and women in my DM’s than I can count and they are daily reminders of why I remain single. Shit, I barely trust myself. These 2 women I know are young and both of them are in so much pain. They feel broken and it’s sad. The one who took a three hour road trip and got dumped has spent the past 72 hours in bed, about 200 dollars on self help books she ordered from Amazon, and she still gets excited when she sees notifications on her screen because she thinks he is going to call her and say he wants her back. She is delusional. I am 41 and it has taken me forever to realize that when men fuck up, it is not my fault. People always stay where they want to be and go where they want to go. Some of the baddest bitches in the world are single, have had their hearts broken by fuckboys, and are sitting at home right now while their men are out entertaining bitches and asking random chicks for nudes. It hurts to get dumped and cheated on. Breaking up is like having someone die. You go from talking to them everyday and making memories to never talking to them again. Life is crazy that way. The weather is starting to change and it’s getting cold outside. It’s time to put an extra blanket on the bed so I can keep sleeping naked. I don’t have anyone to keep me warm at night and I am okay with that. I would rather be single than crazy.

September 27 2019

Pussy

I almost caught another body this morning. I was waxed, fresh out the shower, and I know he has a big dick. I let the man make it all the way into my bedroom and take his shorts off but it was a no for me. I dropped my towel in front of him, put some boy shorts and a bra on and asked him to leave. I have so much work to do today. I have been celibate for a long time now and the longer I wait, the higher my standards are. To be honest, I would rather not fuck than give it to somebody who doesn’t deserve it. I was standing in my bedroom with my hair wet and a towel on. I looked at him and realized how excited he was. He got in my room and started to get naked right away. He was smiling and pulled some condoms out of his pocket and it just didn’t feel right. In about 2 minutes I went from wanting him inside of me to wanting him to get the fuck out of my house. I had no reason to give him some. We are not dating, I am not really attracted to him, I know he has plenty of bitches, and I am sure he only wants to fuck me because he likes my vibe and thinks I’m cute. No thank you. I know some women who like to fuck men who have status and a lot of money just to say they fucked them. I don’t care about those things because I have my own money and would never fuck somebody just to say that I did. Poor guy. I guess he doesn’t read my blog. If he did, he would’ve known that the pussy was his the moment I invited him over for breakfast and I had already decided to give him some. All he had to do was not fumble and fuck the morning up. He would also know that I used to keep hoes around me for men like him. Broke bitches who fuck for bragging rights. I called them, the help. I am still celibate.

September 20 2019

Reality

I have been engaged twice. It didn’t work the first time because I was subjected to so much mental and physical abuse that it would take 5 lifetimes to forget about and to be able to heal from it. The second time I was engaged, it was for all the wrong reasons. He proposed because we had been together for awhile so it just felt like the next step. Thankfully I got a daughter out of it so my time wasn’t completely wasted and I learned a valuable lesson. What I thought my life would be, and what it will be are very different, and that is okay. As a little girl, I just knew I would have a husband, a 2 story house, a big ass backyard, a golden retriever, a son and a babygirl, and I would be extremely domestic. I would cook dinner for my family everyday, have vanilla sex with my husband, and bake pies and shit. My reality is very different. Aside from having spawned a boy and a girl, I have 2 cats, I am single, I cook when I feel like it, and I can’t remember the last time I had sex without getting choked, spanked, my hair pulled, or had a third person in the bedroom to watch. I was at happy hour recently and I kept getting the same questions from men and women; “Why are you single?” “Where is your husband?” “You must be picky huh?” “Can I show you that we all aren’t the same?” Blah, blah, blah. The reality is that I am not pressed. Fuck the picket fence and apple pies. My married friends call me all the time to bitch and complain and to tell me how miserable they are. They have forced conversations with people that have changed and they masturbate in private because their partners can’t fuck anymore. I don’t want to grow old alone but I would rather spend my money how I want to, sleep with someone who knows my body and makes me cum a lot, and I could not imagine having to pick up dog shit everyday. I don’t trust people and I would rather be single than hurt. So many “happily engaged” men and women are in my DM’s everyday playing with their dicks and clits and at the same time, posting picks of “bae”. Fuck that! My reality works for me. I like the man I talk to on a daily without any pressure, I go to sleep without worrying about getting cheated on, and there’s not a person in this world other than my mom that could pull up and tell me what to do. Today, I am happy.

September 14 2019

Pickles

I have been craving pickles lately. I have a big ass jar in my refrigerator and I stop and buy them from random gas stations during the day. No, I am not pregnant and unless God were to pass down an 11th commandment, I never will be again. I am having cravings lately and they started after a few phone conversations and 2 FaceTime calls with this guy I met. Everything about him is sexy to me. The way he talks, his energy, the way he says my name, and his overall vibe are making me crave him. When I talk to him and hear his voice, my body reacts. My pussy gets hot and wet and my mouth waters. I can’t have him so I’ve been eating all these big ass pickles. I lick them before I put them all the way in my mouth. They are juicy and pickle juice always drips down my arm when I eat them. I sometimes lick the juice off when I catch it on my hand. I suck them to pull the juice out and onto my tongue and I play with it in my mouth before I swallow it. Sex for me hits different when the vibe with somebody is not based solely on physical attraction. A strong mental connection to somebody is a game changer when it comes to blow jobs and head. This man’s mental game is unparalleled to anyone I have met in a long time. He is funny, he listens to me, asks me about my days and nights, and he is one of the last people I talk to every morning and before I go to bed. He feels when my vibe is off and we are able to communicate things to each other without having to say them. I want him. He is making it difficult for me to maintain this celibacy pact I made with myself and I am starting to realize how much I miss having sex. I do realize that most people are full of shit and that he could be running game to fuck me but right now I really don’t care. I want to fuck him too and for the sake of my mind, body, vagina, and pickle makers everywhere, I hope he doesn’t fuck this up.

September 12 2019

Breakdown

I jumped on the treadmill this morning to start my 5 mile journey to absolutely nowhere and I almost stopped the machine twice within the first 15 seconds. My legs felt mushy, like overcooked spaghetti, and I could not get myself together. I was physically worn out but I kept going. One of the reasons I didn’t stop is because there was a cute guy in there who watched me walk in. I knew he would think there was something wrong with me if I jumped off the treadmill and walked right back out. I also kept going because I promised myself that I would treat my body better and put my health first. Late Tuesday night, I was lying in bed and I had a similar breakdown but this one was more mental. I am overwhelmed. I keep having to remind myself what I am pushing myself so hard for. Life, for me, has become more routine than fun. All I do is work and wait for Friday nights so I can put weird mud masks on my face and look forward to sleeping in on Saturday mornings. I don’t remember the last time I laughed or made a memory that is important enough for me to hold onto forever. I often cry myself to sleep at night and hate to see the sunrise. When I feel this way, I start to rationalize impulsive behaviors and questionable acts of self harm. Awareness of breakdowns in mental health cycles are important. Keep living and you will have them. Some of us have friends we reach out to when shit seems to fall apart, some of us keep it completely to ourselves, and some of us write about it. I chose to keep going Tuesday night, and I chose to keep going today. My body feels like jello after my botched run this morning and I am tired. My ass hurts but my muscles have that good burn to them and I know if I keep going, in all that I do, I will start to see the results I am working so hard for.

September 7 2019

Waterworld

I remember the first time I squirted. I was in my early 20’s and playing with my Magic Wand. I came so hard that I soaked my comforter, my thighs were wet, and my juices landed all the way on the throw blanket I had lying at the end of my bed. My heart was racing. I wondered why I had never done this before, and if I could make myself do it without the toy. I put the vibrator down and played with myself until I did it again. I threw my comforter and sheets in the trash and showered. I was so wet. People have different thoughts on what happens when women squirt. “It’s just pee.” “That shit is nasty.” “Please don’t get that on my bed.” “Can you do it again?” “Please sit on my face and do it in my mouth!” “Can I just jack off while I watch you?” I am a Pisces and truly believe that sex with Pisces women is better because of how emotional we are and how wet we get. I have slept with women and know this from experience. I prefer my fellow “waterbabies”. Sex is mental and is trash to me if it is just based on a physical connection. Don’t run around fucking people just because they are “cute”. I follow the motto, “the wetter the better” and don’t mind having to clean sheets, wipe down walls, and wash my hair after a fuck session. I don’t want that regular, clean, dry, “must add lube” type of sex. I like a little adventure and aim to please. I have peed in men’s mouths, stood over them and masturbated until I squirted on their chests, and brought tears to women’s eyes with my oral skills. If you get your hands on a squirter, keep her. Chances are she has very few limits and will try ANYTHING at least once. Embrace the fact that she will not make ugly faces every time you mention a little squirt action or anal play. Conventional sex is overrated, get your ass in there and have some fun. #management

September 5 2019

Magnum XXL

If you want to ruin your chance of EVER fucking me, tell me how much you hate having sex with condoms on while we are out on our first date. My mind will immediately run away and find itself on a tangent. While you sit there and put wasabi on your spicy tuna roll, I am thinking about your crusty ass dick, warts on your inner thigh, and how you must mistake your penis for a torch every time you piss. Look here all you Flaming Hot Cheetos, you can keep that little unwrapped sausage of yours in your pants. If you are blaming condoms on your limp dick and inability to stay hard, you have a problem. You just can’t fuck. Now don’t get it twisted, everybody likes raw sex! And yes, I am everybody. But no matter how cute, funny, or well hung you are, I don’t know where your dick has been but I can guarantee you that it won’t be going inside of me unless you put a condom on it! Raw sex is the best….my pussy gets wetter…I squirt more…I cum harder….and it is easier to switch from oral to penetration without that rubber barrier. And while I love the feel of a warm, hard, strong dick against my skin and touching my guts, I also love a rash free pussy, not having to take antibiotics everyday, and not thinking I have contracted a life threatening disease every time I cough. Save the “I prefer to have sex without condoms on” statement until you know sex is even on the table. Your dumb ass is stating the obvious and ruining your chances of fucking me because I know you turn off the lights and put that thing in every chick out here who doesn’t like condoms because they “break her out”. Keep that ignorant, dirty dick vibe away from me. I will be over here drinking water, masturbating, and waiting on a partner I can go get tested with so he can get the coconut oil treatment with my mouth, and while I am on top.

September 2 2019

Pain

I love tattoos. I am German and Black so people always say I am “lucky” because of my skin tone. They tell me it brings the ink out and the colors show better because I am light skinned. What they don’t know, is that I usually get inked when I am going through something. I depend on the pain from the needles to numb my mental strife and ease my stress. Lately, I feel like I am in a constant state of panic, fear, and anxiety. One minute I am consumed with thoughts of how strong I am to be able to balance out the facts of my life. The next minute, I feel manic and think about how I would rather not have children depending on me to provide their next meals and buy them shit. I become selfish and realize that I don’t want to spend my life being an example to people anymore and I do not want any responsibilities. There is a constant struggle in my mind between what I want for my life and what I think I should want. Sometimes, I want to praise God, cook Sunday dinners, and read to my daughter every night. Other times, I want to take road trips with strangers, smoke blunts on my couch while binge watching Sex and the City, and have threesomes and orgies with all of the lights on, in every room of my house. When I become overwhelmed, I get tatted. For the 2 to three hours I am lying there, needles piercing my skin and staining my body with ink, I am not thinking about my broken heart, bills I need to pay, responsibilities, or the old man I used to masturbate in front of for 500 dollars and a gas card. I am not thinking about growing up without a dad, not being married, or consumed with thoughts that I have failed at life. Five minutes in and I am numb to everything. I mentally shut down, blast my ear drums with Linkin Park, and forget about everything in my life that hurts. I love my ink and have a lot of people who comment on my pieces; “I love your ink!” “Who is your artist?” “That shit is fire!!!” Didn’t that hurt???” I say thank you and shrug off the pain comments. Getting tattoos has become a form of escapism for me and they don’t hurt at all. What does hurt, is the pain I am trying to avoid by getting them.

Saints and Sinners Tattoo / Dallas (Adrian)

August 27 2019

BDE

I feel sorry for men who have big dicks and have no idea how to use them. There is something about a man who has a big dick but can’t fuck that just pisses me off. There are men living their lives with dicks the size of my baby toe and there are other men running around here with gray sweat pants and dick prints that have no idea how to use what the good Lord has blessed them with. If I ask for a dick pic, which is very rare because unless we are fucking I am usually not interested in seeing your penis, I am looking for length, girth, and to see whether or not you have that V that cuts from your lower abs to your pubic area. I have to be honest…my mouth waters and I get a little wet when I see a big dick. If I decide to fuck you and you put that thing inside of me and barely move your hips and act like you are going to cum in twenty seconds, I will kindly ask you to put your clothes on and get the fuck out of my house. What is the point in having all this big dick energy if you get inside of me and lay there, barely pumping your hips and telling me how good my pussy feels. I know it feels good and did not invite your ass over here for validation…I wanted to cum to something other than Pornhub and my WeVibe! I would rather be cleaning out my DVR or watching a horror movie on Netflix than spending my time trying to bring life to a big dick that is useless. Pick me up….choke me…slap the shit out of me and fuck me against the wall. Get your nutt and let me get you hard again so we can get to rounds and 2 and 3. Please do not make me get up and put on my workout playlist so your limp dick ass can at least have a beat to try to move your hips to. If all else fails, and you have a big dick and no idea how to use it…please Google it. Talk to your friends and seek support. Ask for help if you need to. Be aware of what you have and learn how to use it. I would rather entertain a man with a semi big dick who can pick me up and make me sweat than a man with a big dick who fucks like a sloth.

August 23 2019

Sweat

I barely finished my run this morning. I adjusted my speed and incline so much that the lady running next to me paused to ask if my machine was broken. I smiled and shook my head, got in my stride, and finished my 5 miles in just under 45 minutes. Wednesdays and Fridays are always my hardest days in the gym. Wednesday is like the summit to me and if I can just get past it, Thursday is always smooth. I am not sure what happened this morning because this Friday was harder than most. My legs felt like jelly under the weight of my body. My hips, ass, thighs, shoulders, and my boobs were all sore. I knew I was trippin’ when I reached up and put my hands on my breasts to hold them from bouncing around while I was in a full sprint. Then it hit me. I had company the other night and I think that our late night activities are having a direct impact on my body. With every ache and pain, I thought about each position we hit and how much time I spent on my knees. Foreplay is a wonderful thing and I love it. However, I feel like I have been hit by a choo choo train and I am not sure if I want Mr. Taco Tuesday to come back, or if I want to rest so that I can run on Monday without a B12 shot in my ass and a coke line. The point is, my workout was weak as fuck but I got through it. I ran my miles, burned calories I have not yet consumed, and gave my glutes, quads, and calves the tender loving care they all deserve. There are no excuses. I made a commitment to myself to take better care of my body and I am not going to let a late night, mutual masturbation session keep me off my grind. I loved it and I want to have company again. I will just start wearing my Fitbit while I play with him, or whoever I invite to come over. I am sure we will both burn many, many calories in my bedroom without having to run all those damn miles. #tgif

August 21 2019

WCW

I have a crush on myself. I love my body. My legs and my arms are strong and toned and my pussy is wet and tight. My boobs are soft, yet firm, and my nipples are always slightly hard. My hair looks good curly or straight and my hip to waist ratio is perfect. I spend ten hours a week shaping my body and molding it into a work of art. It is amazing. I walk into rooms and men and women stare at me. They smile and I wink back because I like it. Hard work pays off and I have always been a whore for the attention of others. I am in love with my hustle. I have overcome a lot of shit to get to where I am now. I wake up in the morning, pray, and get to my bag. Adversity and past experiences have taught me to get money whenever I can. It is in me. My motivation and drive to be successful are unparalleled to any other emotions I feel. I would rather make money than get fucked and I know I am not a mediocre bitch. Every now and then, I sit back and watch how people around me move. They complain instead of make plans, talk shit instead of change their situations, and remain stagnant when they have opportunities to grow. When I am around these people, I realize that I am very different from them. I do not blame my hardships on others and when I am faced with adversity, it knocks me down long enough to teach me a lesson and build character, then I get up. I am in love with my mental game. The more women I meet, the more I realize how different I am. I bring a combination of street and book smarts to the table and I don’t let many people sit down. If you don’t already know me, you won’t. I have become way too selfish and enthralled with my own life and I am not interested in entertaining people who won’t level up. The only people on the planet who are capable of disappointing me are my children because I have high expectations for them but they have their own lives to live and my hopes and dreams for their futures may not be in God’s plan. No one else matters. I am in love with myself, as I should be. #wcw

August 17 2019

IT

I have come very, very, very, very, very, very, very close to having sex with a few people lately but every time, they fuck it up. These men go from sending flowers and opening car doors to sending text messages that scare the shit out of me. You never know how mentally unstable someone is until you tell them you can’t take a break from your busy work day to eat tacos and chit chat around noon on a Friday. I went from imagining what it would be like to fuck this guy to thanking the Lord himself that I had never showed him where I live. He was so close to getting some pussy then he acted like a total clown and fucked it all up. He had a complete conversation with himself in my text messages that included him going off on me, telling me he wanted to be my man, and ending it all with a simple “Fuck you” after about 9 unanswered text messages and 8 missed calls. I wasn’t ignoring him, I was with my daughter. Now, he is blocked. There are very few people in this world who are important enough to distract me from my money or my kids and if I have recently met you, you aren’t on that list. Unanswered text messages don’t mean I am not interested in you. It means that I am in my bag and you should respect it. What man doesn’t want a woman with her own shit, positive vibes, and big money energy? I have never liked clowns. They scared me as a kid and they scare me now. If I wanted to date someone with a mask on and exaggerated emotions I would DM one of my favorite Ig models and fly her out to Texas so she could ride my face. I would fly her back home in the morning and she would start posting inspirational quotes because I sent her home and stopped hitting her up. Please don’t be a clown. If I tell you I like you, I do. If I don’t respond to you right away, I am busy. If I hold your hand in public I am probably thinking about how big your dick is and if I kiss you at the end of a date, I think about having your dick in my mouth. Yes, I am that hyper sexual. The truth is, if I get dressed to go out with you, I have already to decided that I want to have sex with you. At that point, only you can fuck it up. Don’t be bi polar, act like a grown up, and take that clown shit somewhere else. Don’t be Bozo.

August 15 2019

Tiny

I gave this guy head once and his dick was the size of my thumb. The size of my thumb without acrylic tips on it. I sucked his dick because I liked him. It didn’t take him long to cum and I remember how hard it was to manipulate his 2 inch penis in my mouth, It was kind of like sucking a pacifier or one of those old school ring pops from the ice cream truck. I gave him head because I liked him and he was super sweet. I even spit on his dick like I was spitting out sunflower seeds to accommodate his size. I sucked it like the bedroom superstar I am because I didn’t want to give him a complex. Since I have been blogging, I get more men and women in my DM’s commenting on sex and being overly inquisitive about my skills. My girlfriends caution me when I meet new people because it is hard to tell if they want to date me, or get introduced to my coconut oil head game and squirting vagina. I am in no rush to fall back in love because that shit hurts. I also take my celibacy very seriously but I have sucked a few dicks and let people watch me masturbate to satisfy myself, not them. A lot of men engage me in conversations and try to compare themselves to my Cookie Dough, to my lover that made me cum so hard that I thought I was dying, and my new found friend whose dick damn near hangs to his knees. I appreciate a big dick but could entertain a small one. Tiny got his dick sucked because he was cute, honest, funny, complimented me a lot, and made me laugh so I wanted to make him happy. He was honest and wasn’t full of shit. He communicated well and when he had all of his clothes on, his presence satisfied me. We obviously never fucked and honestly, I am not sure if he was capable of having sex but I never asked. In a world full of pretty pussies and big dicks, be a Tiny. Don’t lie, don’t try to use me, don’t ever think you are going to game me for some pussy, and be proud of your dick, no matter how small it is ;)

August 13 2019

Stay Ready

I opted out of culmination activities when I earned my Master’s Degree. I hate college graduations and I was not going to put my family through another boring ass ceremony. I had the University deliver my degree through certified mail and when I opened the box, all I could think about was money. I have two degrees, several certifications, and enough credentials to offer supports and services to everyone in your family from the ages of 0 to 23. I teach people how to do their jobs and travel several times a year to Cali to sign paperwork that ensures I know how to do mine. Recently, I was offered a third position. I was eager and excited but when they called me with the financial offer and contract, I had a full fledged panic attack. I was standing at the bottom of a waterslide at Great Wolf Lodge and I lost my shit. I started shaking, pacing, questioning my ability to handle yet another full time job, and doubting myself. I accepted the offer and booked a flight to LA to sign some documents. I called one of my girlfriends and she could hear the hysteria in my voice. Ahahahahahaha…she was like; “Girl what the fuck is wrong with you? Get ahold of yourself. If I was there I would slap the shit out of you!!!” We laughed so hard and my fear was replaced with gratitude and thanks. I have ALWAYS had a propensity to get a bag and stay in it. I would rather be tired than broke and there is very little that I would not do to make sure that me and my kids eat. My girl reminded me that this is a boss move and that I am in this situation because I can handle it. We also talked about the things I have been praying for all year; more money, happiness, and a new man. I realized that yesterday, God decided to answer these prayers and He did it in a way that scared the shit out of me. She was shocked that I doubted my ability to handle 3 full time jobs, be a mommy, and entertain someone new. I am not sure why I was trippin’. I am more than capable of managing my time and I have OCD to a fault so my organizational skills and work ethic are ridiculous. The added contract will put me in a new tax bracket and I will have yet another position to add to my resume’. My kids are thriving and I enjoy the company of the man who had yellow roses delivered to my suite yesterday. Life is good and God is truly blessing me. I just didn’t think everything was going to happen at once. I am here for it, trust me. I just wasn’t ready.

August 10 2019

Dessert

I was on my way to dinner tonight and got sent an “accidental” dick pic on Snapchat. I almost crashed my Benz on the Dallas North Tollway because the dick on my screen hung halfway down this man’s leg and I am sure I could see the top of his knee cap. My mouth started watering and instead of being offended, I was happy and pleasantly surprised. Men send me dick pics ALL OF THE DAMN TIME. It makes me so mad and I have always wondered; “What makes a dude so excited that he is like…I need to show her my dick!!!” Usually when this happens, I get sent dicks that sound like Dr. Seuss is critiquing them. As a matter of fact, it is like Romper Room. I can hear the lady saying, “I see a short dick. There is a long, skinny, pencil dick. Oh look, there is a fat, stubbly dick with small balls. I see a tiny dick that must have just gotten out of the shower. I see a hard dick, I see a soft dick, I see a waste of a dick. Oh wait, here comes a huge dick, that might kill me!” Trust me, I have seen them all and it is hard to impress me with your man meat. Today, I was sent a work of art. A dick that belongs on a museum wall. I wonder if he realizes what he has in between his legs and if he has the stamina to go with the length and girth. It is a true masterpiece and his dick is equitable in size to an old school can of Arizona Iced Tea. I drove home thinking about fucking this guy because the older I get, the more I realize that good dick is hard to come by. It is very hard to find and this man is attractive, has a nice body, and is clearly well endowed. He has a dick most women would run from because they could not handle the size and all I want to do is run towards it and land on top of it in a full split. My daughter is gone for the night and I want nothing more than to invite this guy over to smoke some gas, feel his energy, and fuck him until I can’t walk. I want him for dessert. Unfortunately, I already had a small bundt cake for dessert and I have to get up early because I am having brunch in the morning with the girls. So instead, I am going to have some “me-time”, shower, smoke a blunt, and re-read his apology for accidentally sending me that picture of his dick.

August 8 2019

Missionary

I get so many people asking me about sex. “What’s your favorite position?” “What makes you cum?” “Can I watch you and your girlfriend?” “Do you like it from the back?” Personally, I think that favorite positions are for amateurs. If somebody is fucking me right, I do not want to sit, stand, or lay in one position. I want to be bent over, choked, slapped, held up against the wall, gagged, kissed, and have my hair pulled while I am on all fours. When my girls and I get together and talk about men and sex, no one ever says, “Girl his dick was so good thatI just got on my knees and took it like that for about an hour!’ No. This is not what we say. We do talk about how strong some men are. How they command our attention by not saying anything when it is time to have sex. I was smoking with a partner once and he looked over at me and said, “Take your clothes off.” This wasn’t our first time and I don’t know if it was the weed or him, but i stood up and got undressed. My juices were dripping down my leg simply because he told me to get naked. I was so wet. I like quickies, please don’t get it twisted. But if I have a good partner with a big dick, I want it to last for at least an hour and I want to feel it in every hole, in every position, and I want the sex to be messy and loud. I give more of my attention to people with stamina and muscles because I know they can pick me up and last as long as I can. I have an ex fuck buddy who used to live in the Cali. He is one of my favorite partners, EVER. We were fucking once and by this time, he had me on his shoulders, up against the wall, in doggy style, and finally in missionary. I looked up at him and felt my orgasm build up. My heart started racing and then pausing and I thought I was about to have a heart attack. I remember thinking fuck it, this man is fine as hell, I have been fucked good, and I am about to cum very hard so if I die, I die!!! At 41, sex is about the experience. The way you taste me, touch me, get inside of me, and finish are all favorites to me. So no, I don’t prefer it from the back and you can’t watch me with my girlfriend. But please, make me cum so hard that you become my favorite position.

August 4 2019

Kids

Anyone who knows me, knows how important my kids are. I love them and I thank God for them constantly. They have made me stronger and forced me to do better, helping me mature into the woman I am now. For me, one of the most important jobs I have, as their mother, is to protect my own energy and overall vibe. My mental health becomes increasingly important as I grow older because it has to. I used to be a glass is empty type of girl. Not half full, but it was fucking empty. I didn’t think the grass was greener anywhere and I blamed everyone in the world for any inconvenience or bad situation I found myself in. Recently, I really don’t give a damn about how green the grass is or whether or not the glass is empty or full. I live in the moment because the world is pretty fucked up and it is getting worse everyday. Additionally, I can not become consumed with bullshit scenarios I create about what I think my life should be as a 41 year old mother of 2. What I can consume myself with are slumber parties with Bailey on Friday nights, random FaceTime conversations with Corey, and the rare opportunities the three of us have to be together. My dad died suddenly when I was 7 and since then, I am frequently reminded of how quickly lives can end as I experience family members and friends dying from Cancer, in their sleep, and in random mass shooting incidents. I want to be happy and I want my kids to get that vibe. I do get sad a lot and I cry often but my kids rarely get that energy from me. It is important that they form their own personalities and that they are not molded from the remnants of my bullshit temper tantrums every time life throws me a perceived curveball. As a mother, their happiness is the most important thing to me and it would be so selfish to not keep them shielded from my self induced mental breakdowns and random bouts of toxicity fueled by prescription drugs, marijuana and hormones.

August 2 2019

Bad Bitch

I dressed up as princesses when I was a little girl and I believed in the horse and carriage fairytale. I wanted to be married with two kids, a dog, and have a white picket fence around my house. I believed in love and always assumed good intentions in people. In my early 20’s, I got my ass beat by one of my exes. I was shocked, scared, and so sad that it happened. I was in love with him and young. I believed him every time he apologized, enjoyed the Versace shopping sprees he took me on, and was always impressed by the gold and diamonds he would give my mom as an apology after he had beat my ass and pistol whipped me. I was terrified while I was with him, and after I left him, but I never stopped believing in love. I was still a good girl. I had another ex who beat my ass because he lost his job and was broke a lot. I was making money and holding us down but he was a bitch and his disdain for himself turned into aggression towards me. Another failed relationship fueled by disappointment and rage. At heart, I enjoy making money and being domestic. I am old fashioned in that way and I don’t think my partner should have to ask for dinner, sex, or head when he or she gets home from work. I will do anything to please my man and my past lovers always enjoyed when my girlfriend would come spend the night. I have been thinking about my personality lately. I know that I am mean to most of the people I meet and don’t care about their feelings. I would only want to fuck them and make them go home. I don’t care if I come off as blunt or shitty. I have a wall up because I don’t want to be hurt anymore. I think it is sad when I listen to my friends talk about how toxic relationships have turned them into bad bitches. None of us grew up on a mission to treat people bad. We are hurt. We have loved hard, believed lies, given our all, shed tears, and made ourselves look like assholes trying to make relationships work because we were given mixed messages and filled with lies like; “You are my only girl.” “I was with my mom.” “My battery died.” “I love you.” This is all bullshit and now, we know it. Unfortunately, I know good women who make their own money, cook like Bobby Flay, keep their homes clean, fuck like stallions, and would rather spend the weekends counting their cash while drinking champagne and splurging at Gucci all to avoid senseless encounters with men because they don’t want to get hurt. Be careful how you treat people. Don’t be the lying piece of shit that makes a good girl go bad. We have enough bad bitches out here.

July 31 2019

Chicken

You will never have to be Inspector Gadget to figure out if I like you. Sending grown ass people on Blue’s Clues missions is not nice and karma is a bitch so I don’t play games with people’s emotions. I am very straightforward and blunt to a fault. My tolerance for bullshit is minimal and I will not waste my time or yours. I have several people that hit me up during the day and I get a constant flow of DMs, text messages, and “ass dials”. I am unable to mask my dislike for people who call me with nothing to talk about, no plan, and who I have little to no interest in. I have a lot of shit on my plate and if you are a stranger, I could care less about your kids, ex wife, or what you had for dinner. Conversely, if I am feeling somebody, I reach out, say good morning, share music playlists, and send nudes. I was talking to my girlfriend about this chicken incident on Sunday. Let me just say that I love to cook but I am one of those people who hates it when the smell of food lingers in my house. My short ribs and ox tails are bomb and I could have a food truck to sell my chicken enchiladas but the smell of meat gives me a headache. I do cook it but I do not eat it so I only make it when I am asked, usually. On Sunday, I hit up someone who I met last Fall. We dated for a bit and he was super sweet, fine as hell, fucked me good, and made me laugh. I was mean and a bitch to him and I needed to apologize. When he and I met, Eli had just gotten killed and I was still healing from the break up with my closeted ex. So I texted the guy on Sunday and he said he would come over around 6:30 because he needed to bake some chicken he thawed out earlier in the day. My response; “You can cook your chicken here baby.” The point is, when I am interested in someone, I lose all sense of judgment and turn into a child. I become giddy, smile a lot, run into shit while I walk around the house, and will let you come over to bake your chicken, do your laundry, fuck me, and leave me to sleep in the wet spot. This man could’ve told me he needed me to help him kill the damn chicken, de feather it, chop it up, season it, and bake it overnight and I still would’ve wanted him in my bed. I am aroused every time I see him and when he touches me, I am always so wet that he is convinced that his conversation has made me cum. He fits me, smells good, and has great taste in music. Last night, he came over for Taco Tuesday and I am sitting here wishing that Chicken Wing Wednesday was a thing so that I could make him some drums and flats and invite him back over here to play with me.

July 29 2019

Jacksonville

I will never forget the sound of Corey’s voice on the other end of my phone. It was hot as hell in Dallas that day and I was tanning. I was covered in coconut oil watching Bailey cannonball into the pool and I did not have a care in the world. The WiFi reception in the clubhouse area was awful and I am not even sure how his call got through. He was crying and screaming at the same time and I remember freezing when I heard his voice. He was rambling and not making any sense but I knew right away that something was wrong. “My brother mom, they killed my brother. There was a dot on his chest and he won’t answer the phone. I can’t watch it again! Why won’t he answer his phone mom? Please mom, make him answer his phone.” I was confused and Corey sent me a video of the shooting. He sent me a youtube video from Twitch that showed Elijah playing Madden, smiling like he always was, and just having fun. I saw him rub his hand on his leg to wipe sweat off and then I saw a red dot on his chest. My heart stopped. I heard several shots, yelling, and then the screen went black. There was absolute chaos and then there was silence. Elijah was dead and I knew it. I called Corey and I remember how hard it was not to cry. By this time, Bailey looked confused. She was no longer jumping in and out of the water, she was standing right by me asking what was wrong. As a parent, your strength is all you have to get your children through times of confusion and uncertainty. You have got to show strength and resilience when your heart is telling you to break down. I told Bailey everything was fine and to go and play and although I knew that Eli was dead, I did everything I could to convince Corey that we had to wait. “Baby he is fine. Stop crying. God is in control. I am sure he is okay. What can I do? Do you need me to fly to Arizona? I am so sorry.” I was in shock and I know I have not processed Elijah’s death yet. I think about him everyday and it is impossible not to. I see his smile, hear his voice, and remember how gentle his soul was. He had made thousands of dollars playing Madden and lived his best life, traveling the country doing what he loved. Elijah had a humble spirit and an amazing heart. I remember people calling me after the shooting saying things like, “Be strong for your kids. Cry when you need to and let it out. He is in a better place.” It is hard for me to be convinced that he is in a better place when he was here, living a life that other people dream of, doing what he loved. I pray on this a lot because I am a God fearing woman and I know that He knows best so I make it a point not to question Him. The one year anniversary of Trueboy getting murdered is less than a month away and I woke up this morning to news of another mass shooting. It is always sad to hear when these things happen but when you have lost a family member to one, the news hits different. The pain is still unbearable and we still aren’t okay. I don’t go back to the pool I was laying at when I found out that Elijah got killed. I avoid it like the plague. No one knows how much I cried that day and how many late nights I have, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why that boy killed Eli.

Elijah “Trueboy” Clayton

6/19/1996 - 8/26/2018

July 27 2019

Cookie Dough

During my quasi madame days, I met Bj. I remember the night we first paid attention to each other. We were in a suite at the L’Hermitage in Beverly Hills with one of the hottest rappers in the game, all of his boys, and a whole bunch of groupie bitches. I saw Bj looking at me and overheard him telling one of his friends, “I like her, the thick one.” I was young at the time and remember looking down at myself in my Jordache jeans and thinking I was a fat bitch. Now I know that he liked my curves and that he wanted me. Bj and I eventually exchanged numbers and started talking to each other on our two-way pagers. He lived in New York and we didn’t see each other much but I liked him so eventually, I fucked him. I called my oldest sister after the first time I had sex with him because I had never fucked someone with such a big dick and I was shocked at his size. He had a baby arm in his pants and I started calling him Cookie Dough. Bj and I would have sex every time he hit the city at bomb ass hotels, the house in Encino, and anywhere else we could get it in. Bj has never been my man but he has always been a friend. I could go weeks, months, or years without talking to him and every time he hits my line, it is like a day has not passed. Bj and I talked this morning and he was mad at me. He told me he read my blog twice and cried at the suicide post. I cried too. We talked about life, our friendship, and the things I have been going through lately and he was disappointed that I had been wasting my energy and giving my space to people who are not worthy of it. I listened and cried again. I promised him I would call him more and he said he would always be available. I love him very much and appreciate everything about our friendship, even the fucking part. Bj said something that stuck with me this morning that I find to be vital and true. I am going to pass this little gem along in hopes that it might prevent some of you from wasting anymore of your time on people who don’t matter. “At this time in your life, everything should be a moment.” We are at an age where memories need to be made and our spaces should be filled with money moves and happiness, not fuckboys and disappointment. Happy Saturday!

July 25 2019

Gucci

Let me drop this free game for you guys who are currently dating…”People who have their own shit, are not impressed by your shit!” I hate a man who sits up and constantly brags about what he has and where he has been. Trust me, I clap for everyone who makes it but if I meet someone and all they can talk about is themself, it is a red flag. You are not sky ballin’ because you were able to build a house from the ground up in the suburbs of Texas. I would be impressed if you were on Lake Tahoe or in Zuma but Texas has become the new Rancho Cucamonga for people who are done with Cali so forgive me for not being impressed by your 3 bedroom home on Lake Lewisville. I have come to realize that many people look at me as a sex object and I understand why. I like to show my body off because I have worked extremely hard to get it and I like to have fun and post vulgar shit which unfortunately translates into me being perceived as a whore or a dummy. Let me introduce myself. I make well over six figures a year and I have 2 degrees. I have Mastered the field I work in and I know how to make just as much money in the streets as I can at a 9 to 5. My children are very humble but want for nothing. I can code switch and adapt to any situation I am in and have left dinners with billionaires to go hang on the blocc with my cousins in the hood. I talk about sex a lot because I like it and I am good at it, not because I want to entice you or because I would let you have some. Don’t ever judge a book by its cover. All of my friends are bad bitches. We make our own money, buy our own shit, and do what we want. We will not be disrespected or treated like children by men with little hands and small feet that wear flip flops on first dates.

July 24 2019

Have Vibrator, will Travel

My vibrator is one of the first things I pack when I go out of town. I like to masturbate and cum and this celibacy pact I have made with myself has made me vulnerable to fuckboys and hot girls whenever I touch down in a new city. Sex is very mental to me but I cannot lie, there is something erotic about fucking strangers that I will never have to see again. Those are the ones I like to pee on and slap the shit out of without worrying about being judged or having to deal with 2 am, WYD texts because I block their asses before they leave my hotel room. I am celibate right now because I don’t want to have sex with someone who I don’t see myself spending a substantial amount of time with and honestly, I don’t have any contenders. I usually travel a lot during the summer and to keep it 100, hotel rooms are among my favorite places to have sex. I am not sure what it is about them, but I think that sharing walls with strangers and adjoining rooms with common air vents creates a voyeuristic atmosphere that I love. I am aroused anytime I think someone is listening to me have sex so I used to moan a little louder and make my partner say my name so everyone walking down the hallway could hear us. Now, I vibrate. I would rather play with myself than let some thirsty ass guy inside of me so that he can cum and I can roll over and go to sleep disappointed. My vibrator is quiet, discreet, hot pink, reliable, and makes me squirt a lot so I always grab extra towels as soon as I check in. I hate sleeping in a wet bed and it is easier to request towels than it is to request sheet changes 2 or 3 times a day.

July 22 2019

Shitty

I love to travel. This is crazy because I used to have a fear of flying. I shoot craps and we used to fly to Vegas a lot to gamble and get fucked up but those flights were so turbulent that I would always start crying as soon as I sat on the plane. When I say crying, I mean full fledged ugly crying with snot and tears because I knew that the next 45 or 50 minutes were going to scare the shit out of me. Thinking back, it is crazy that I was never kicked off of a plane for having a nervous breakdown during the pre-boarding process. Now when I fly, I am always scared of what awaits me when I get to my final destination. I rarely visit family because I am over Cali so when I do travel, it is either to visit the girls, for a quick surf trip, or to spend time with a soon to be identified, fuckboy. I have become a serial dater in the last year, because I know that God must have created a soulmate for me and I miss having sex. Since I started on my journey, I have developed a list of non negotiable red flags that seem to follow me around like the got damn plague. I know I have male friends who read this blog so I am just going to give you some free game to help you prepare for your next, out of town guest.

• Check the toilet seat. Shit splatters are a huge red flag. After a woman has spent hours on an airplane, she will not want to place her freshly waxed vagina anywhere near your shitty toilet seat.

• Have bottled water in the house, and maybe some snacks. I personally don’t mind faucet water but that shit hits different in other cities. It is always hard to swallow things we aren’t used to having in our mouths and honestly, it’s nasty.

• Wash your ass!!! If a woman decides to sleep with you, she wants to know your penis, asshole, and the back of your thighs are clean. After seeing shit splatters on the toilet seat, the last thing she wants to do is put your nasty ass dick in her mouth or play with your balls.

• Don’t get drunk and start exposing all of your friends’ secrets. Birds of a feather flock together and if he is a fuckboy, chances are that you are too.

• Get plenty of rest. NEVER sleep in until 2 in the afternoon when you have someone visiting. When you don’t have a car because you are in the process of “moving”, make sure you have transportation for your company if you know that you are narcoleptic. Riding scooters in 120 degree weather through unknown cities is ridiculous and although we like a little adventure, a beat face can not stand up to hell type heat.

• Stay woke. A lot of women know who your friends are and know about all of the freaky shit your whole crew is into. You would hate to send rude text messages to your guest after she leaves to get a hotel room so she can eat and sit on a clean toilet and then you find your ass on the cover of UsWeekly because instead of being rational, you chose to be an asshole.

• Be nice and apologize. If you know you fucked up the trip and that you are boring, rude, lazy, and full of shit, text her and apologize. It is crazy how telling someone that you are sorry and know that you fucked up can take the edge off of a bad trip.

You are welcome!!!

July 20 2019

We Only Get Two

I got a call from my mommy this morning that put me on edge. After losing my dad when I was 7 to a massive heart attack I have been living my life thinking that my mom would always be here. Well newsflash…she won’t be, and none of us will. I have had a love/hate relationship with my mom for as long as I can remember. We either talk every other day or not at all. I am an introvert at heart and spend way too much time in my head, blaming the world for all of my perceived problems and abandonment issues. As I sit here and type this I realize that this is a pretty shitty reason to not spend more time talking to my mom. The point is that I can negotiate and control many aspects in my life and buy as many “things” as I want but when it comes to parents, I only got two. I can not bring my dad back and God knows that I would give my left arm to remember his voice, but my mom is still here. I know that we ALL have family members that we dismiss and don’t check in on and honestly, I am good with that. I know firsthand how toxic “loved ones” can be and my personal space and mental health are extremely important to me. I refuse to give my energy to anyone who showers me with fake love. When it comes to my mom, I realize how difficult it would be to navigate my life without her in it. She has taught me the fundamental rules in life that I will pass down to my daughter and that all women must know; keep your credit good, never depend on a man for anything, and have your own shit! These rules continue to keep fuckboys away and are reminders to keep my FICO over 750 at all times. I love my mom and am grateful for every sacrifice, smile, hug and tear. I need to call her more often and visit her more because she’s my parent, I only have one…

July 19 2019

His and Hers

I was talking to one of my girlfriends the other day about sex. She has known me since middle school and knows that I love to have it and that until recently, I have never had any issues with it. Since I broke up with my ex, I have had a chance to think about our bedroom life. I admit that I like to watch porn that is unconventional and he liked to watch it just as much as I did. I am not going to itemize my Pornhub search history but let me just say, I watch a lot of things that most straight, heterosexual men would frown upon and yes, transexual porn and dildos have found their way into my frequent searches. My girlfriend and I were talking about partners who have come in and out of my life, particularly the men, and discussed that there is a subculture of bi-sexual men who are swinging on both sides of the rainbow and not being honest about it. We discussed the men that I date and that, to be honest, they are usually affluent, rich, and powerful. I remember her saying something like, “You don’t sleep with regular men. The men you date are rich and famous and they get bored with conventional sex, just like you.” I agreed with her. I was running today and could not get this out of my mind! I realized that I am both bi and homophobic and it bothers me. I am upset that women can say they are bi-sexual and it is often dismissed but when men admit it, they are often shamed, ridiculed, and made fun of, sometimes being called skittles, undercover fags, and queens. With the current rise of HIV in the black community, the assumption could be that it is a result of these closeted men having sexual trysts with other men during the day and coming home to their wives and girlfriends at night. Missionary sex is replaced with anal and blowjobs are a must. My phobia comes from the idea that women are not always given a choice to make a decision as to whether or not we want to sleep with someone based on their true, sexual identity. This is due to the stigma that continues to surround sexuality and the inability to accept people for who they are in many cultures. Most women I talked to about this agreed that the sexual preferences of men are not the issue, the propensity for men to remain closeted and not be open about who they are, is.

July 18 2019

Good Luck

It is crazy to me that when kids turn 18, we cut them off and wish them luck in their adult endeavors. This is bullshit. Eighteen year olds are not generally ready to navigate the real word and a high school diploma does not make you an adult. I had my son a week after I turned 19 and I was far from being grown. When his dad and I broke up I became a single mother and for the first time in my life, I was worried about money. “Where was I going to get it?” “How fast can I get my hands on more?” “What in the hell am I going to do?” I knew that I was not going to make the money I needed working on campus or at Victoria’s Secret. I moved in with two of my girlfriends and my son. I started going to work on the sets of music videos and at BET studios doing “extra” work for cash. By then, we were hanging out with everybody who was fly at the time; Snoop, Ed Lover, Pepa, Suge Knight, chilled at the club with Jay Z, Irv Gotti, and I had Ja Rule on speed dial. One day, on the set of a video shoot, Suge’s cousin asked me if I was interested in sleeping with one of the artists for cash. I wasn’t. I have never been one to fuck the help. However, I had a girlfriend who was in the game so I decided to hit her up. When I was in high school, I was cheerleading captain, Student Body President, and a drug dealer. Purple kush had just hit Cali and I was selling gas out of a Pringle’s can to half the football team and all of their homeboys. I have always been a hustler and I knew that I could make some money off of this sexcapade so I had my girl drive to the set in Hollywood. I told him to give me the money and that I would pay her after it was done. The trailer rocked for about ten minutes and I gave her 200 dollars when she came out. I kept the other 300 in my pocket and sped down La Cienega to get my son from daycare. She never knew that she had just been pimped. I made a lot of money off of my friends and while I was counting bills, they were catching bodies. A lot of them didn’t have regular jobs and they appreciated the 2 or 3 hundred dollars they were getting every night. I kept the thousands that I was pocketing to myself and stopped worrying about making money because I had so much of it that I stuffed my pillow cases with it. They were happy to brag about smashing superstars and I was turning into a young entrepreneur. I thank God that I make good money now and don’t rely on my street smarts to keep food on the table and racks in the bank. At the end of the day, we are all one phone call away from a critical financial change and I will never hesitate to do whatever it takes to make sure that me and my babies eat.

July 17 2019

Art

After I got down to my pre baby weight, I started to feel myself a little bit. I lost the weight slowly so I did not have to contend with saggy skin on my arms, legs, or torso. I had hips and strong thighs, nice muscle definition and tone in my arms, and a little skin under my belly button I was determined to work off with crunches. The one thing I could not fix, was my boobs. I swear, they were like sandbags. They hung damn near to my belly button and I was so embarrassed by them that I would not have sex without a bra on. As a matter of fact, when I took my bra off the first time I had sex with my ex, he went to grab my boobs and rubbed on my stomach instead. I was MORTIFIED! He didn’t call me for the rest of the day. I was with my sister standing on a corner in Times Square complaining that he wasn’t texting me. She and I had been drinking and she looked at me and said, “Well maybe if you had some titties, he would be calling you back.” We both laughed and to this day, he denies that happened. After that, I spent thousands of dollars on push up bras, tape, and crotchless lingerie so that I would never have to take my bra off during sex again. In 2017, I decided to have my boobs done. A girlfriend of mine referred me to Dr. Eugene Kim, a Beverly Hills Plastic Surgeon. He changed my life. When I initially made the decision to have the surgery, I had so many people discouraging me. “You don’t need that” “You are too vain.” “Men don’t care about boobs!” “The recovery is awful.” I had very little support from the people I cared about the most and I reminded myself that I was doing this for me. It was either this breast augmentation with gummy implants under the muscle, or a lifetime of sex with bras on in the dark. When I met Dr. Kim, I knew he was going to reconstruct my body but I did not know that he would change my life. Now, I rarely wear bras as my boobs are perky, supple, and perfect. I no longer have the boobs of a 70 year old woman on my 41 year old body and I love being naked. Thank you Dr. Kim!

Beverly Hills Plastic Surgeon, Dr. Eugene Kim (310) 271-6996

July 16 2019

Company

There is something completely arousing about being around a fit, funny, attractive person. When I am attracted to someone, I feel like a child. I can’t stop laughing, I catch myself staring at them, wondering what it would feel like to have them on top of me, and I picture us fucking all over my place. For me, being both mentally and physically attracted to someone gives me butterflies in my stomach and I find it hard to maintain self control so I put limits on myself by making everything a game. “I will give you head but I won’t fuck you…” “It is one or the other…” “I can’t give you everything at once…” “If you want to fuck me, you are going to have to come back…” Trying to be celibate is hard to do, especially when you have an attractive man in your house who is strong, and who likes to grab your ass and playfully choke you as you walk around your kitchen. I start thinking about giving him head and the unopened jar of coconut oil on my nightstand and my mouth waters. Off to the bedroom we go…

When you have company, make sure they leave satisfied. Offer cold water or a cocktail, a snack, some gas ass weed, and good conversation. It is always important to laugh and flirt a little bit to show your attraction and be sure to brush against them often so you can see what they are working with. Keep your vibrator charged and ready to go so you can put your squirting skills on display, and keep towels close to the bed…coconut oil can be messy!!! Finally, if you like them, ALWAYS ask them to come back. Although time alone is very important, it is fun and very necessary to have company.

July 14 2019

Snatched

You have to move in silence when you choose to make changes in your life. I kept my weight loss journey to myself because let’s be honest, hatred and jealousy are real human traits that many people possess but few admit to having. There will always be people rooting for you and there will always be people tempting you to eat cheeseburgers and shit, waiting for you to fail and fall off the diet train. When I lost my weight, I did it the slow way. I knew that green tea pills, shakes, Herbalife, and Nutrisystem would not give me the long term results I was looking for. When I got started, I was about 225 pounds and I could barely walk for 30 minutes on the treadmill. My body ached, I was short of breath, and it was very hard for me to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, I run 5 miles a day, spend about 20 minutes on the elliptical machine, and do squats because my ass is lackluster, at best. I also made significant changes to my diet. When I was pregnant with Bailey, it would not be uncommon for me to eat the following during the course of a day; two breakfast sandwiches with hash browns, chips or donuts for a morning snack, two Filet o Fish meals with a chocolate shake and an apple pie for lunch, a steak and a baked potato for an afternoon snack, and dinner. And believe me, whatever we had for dinner, I ate two. The crazy thing is that I pretty much maintained the same diet immediately after having my daughter. Breastfeeding can help your stomach get tight but got damn was I hungry!!! My boobs were like a 38 H and heavy as fuck. I was miserable and so unhappy. I started eating a lot of hummus, fresh vegetables, fish, and salad. I slowly cut meat completely out of my diet and now, almost everything I eat is plant based. There is so much truth behind the saying; It’s a lifestyle change. I would leave events to go home and work out and I no longer became tempted by buffets, pizza, and poundcake. A lot of people asked me what snatched meant when I started thinking about what I was going to title this blog. My response is me, I am snatched, I am one of those people…32DD 24 36

July 13 2019

Pride

I lost my virginity when I was 13 to a boy and I thought I was going to die. That shit hurt!!! You Remind Me by Mary J. Blige was playing and to this day, every time I hear that song, I think about Marque grabbing the back of his headboard and slamming his dick inside of me. He clearly knew what he was doing and all I could do was lay there, tears streaming down my cheeks from the pain. We had sex several times after that and eventually, I was riding his dick like a Luke Dancer. When I was about 21, I realized how much I liked women and that I had been suppressing it for years. I would stare at them and think about what sex would be like with a femme. Going to pool parties and spending time with the girls meant changing from bikinis to club clothes and rolling blunts naked, bare breasted with g-srings on. Eventually, some of my girlfriends and I would kiss, touch each other, or give each other oral sex while getting ready for the club. We were all high off of Ecstasy at the time so we never talked about it, but we ALWAYS did it. I kept a man at all times but most of my girlfriends were bisexual and we were either having sex together or watching each other have sex with the men we chose to let inside. Not all of my family members were receptive to me being bisexual. Some of them thought it was a phase and didn’t care but others took it personally and thought they didn’t do anything to deserve me being bi-sexual, like it was a disease. I have had several girlfriends that I have kept hidden because I didn’t feel the need to have conversations about my personal life and who I decided I wanted to make love to. Now, when I am in relationships with men, they have the added benefit of me wanting to bring women into our bedroom every now and then. I like them to watch me with her and sometimes, I like to watch them. About a year ago one of my god sisters saw one of my pride posts on Instagram and she sent me a DM. “What?”, “I thought you only liked men!”, “Where did all of this come from sis?” I was proud of myself for hiding it so well for so long. Now, I choose to be full of pride.

July 11 2019

Wet

I miss having sex. I masturbate a lot but it is not the same as having a man or woman in my bed, or both. I miss touching, tasting, kissing, feeling, and listening to someone else moan in my ear. At 41, I don’t think I have “regular sex” anymore. Women reach their sexual peaks in their 40’s and now, I think of sex as an art. As a matter of fact, if you had sex with me before I turned 35, we never fucked!!! I bring new shit to the table that I didn’t have in my bag of tricks before I hit my early 30’s and sex with me is pretty damn amazing now if I do say so myself. I am not saying it was ever bad! I have wanted to be a Playboy Bunny since I was 5 years old and I was watching porn when I should’ve been watching cartoons. I view sex as a physical and emotional experience and I aim to please. I have actually heard men cry before while they were inside me about to cum and I got jealous because no one has ever made me feel as good as I was obviously making them feel. I could give Linda Lovelace a run for her money and I know that coconut oil is the key to amazing oral sex and it tastes so much better than those store bought lubes. I was at the pool today and a lesbian couple jumped in and started kissing. They were both femme and I was extremely aroused. I had seen one of them at the pool before and I honestly think they wanted me to watch them play. I was there for it too! There is something exciting about being a voyeur. I know a lot of people like vanilla sex but I am all for whips, chains, other couples joining in, swingers clubs, and being watched. When you are good at something, you want to show it off and you want people to see it and recognize you for how good you are. The girls at the pool today stimulated me enough to write this post and think about who the next man will be that I let inside. He has to be honest, trustworthy, capable of being a provider, funny, and open to trying new things in the bedroom. It was a steaming 104 degrees today in Texas and all I can think about is how I left the pool today…wet.

July 10 2019

Suicide

My oldest sister called me yesterday to say hello and I am not sure what it was about hearing her voice, but as soon as she said “hey sis”, I had am emotional breakdown. I cried about any and everything I could think of; my drama at LAX trying to get home on Sunday, the big ass wasps that I see outside every time I go to the pool, the fact that I miss my kids, our fucked up family and how we are nothing like we used to be, I cried because Grumpy Cat died in May, because I am extremely lonely and haven’t had sex in all of 2019, and because at the end of the day, I know in my heart that the world would be better off without me. My customized AMG Benz, Louis Vuitton luggage sets, Gucci shoes, 800 FICO score, my kids, my healthy lifestyle and my college degrees are not enough for me to not feel like shit and not live in a constant state of depression. Yesterday I was absolutely, 100% there and in my mind, I could end it all with some Hydrocodone, Clonazepam, a blunt, and a nice glass of Merlot. Obviously, I did not take the pills or drink the wine last night but I did think about it. What is disconcerting to me is that my sister heard me lose my shit yesterday and witnessed my unwinding but she has yet to call me to ask if I am feeling any better or if I am okay. Depression is a bitch. I hate that there is such a stigma surrounding it. If you tell someone you are sad and dealing with things that get you down, they always say, “You have so much to live for”, “Look how far you have come”, “What about your kids?” No one ever says, “What’s wrong?”, “Why are you so sad today?”, “Can I help you?”, “What can I do?”, “I am here.” When people decide to commit suicide I doubt that they are thinking about anyone but themselves. It seems to be one of the most selfish acts a human being can commit. I was talking to a guy this morning and we talked about how real mental health issues are and how important it is to seek therapy when you need it. Chances are, you are not going to call your bestie and say, “Hey girl, I am about to kill myself, wanna come through?” Typically, people commit suicide in silence. Pay attention to your circle. If they are becoming distant, shutting down, and withdrawing themselves from things they once thought to be important, they may need some help. Fortunately, I was suffering from pre-menstrual syndrome yesterday. I went to a movie by myself, masturbated, smoked a blunt, and went to sleep. Despite the hopelessness that I felt last night, I am very happy to be alive and I am just not that selfish, yet.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255

July 8 2019

Sake Bomb

Let me be the first to admit that although I am an introvert at heart, I know that I have to get out there and date every now and then if I choose to no longer be single. If sweet baby Jesus did create a soulmate for me, I can guarantee you that prince or princess charming is not going to come gallop his or her ass into my living room on a white horse. Tonight, I decided to go out for sushi with a guy who slid in my DM’s yesterday and asked me out. He was funny and could hold a conversation so why not. I was home alone and bored. I showered and put on an all black Fashion Nova fit, Gucci sneakers and bag to match. I walked downstairs to meet him and I walked up to his car. He was sitting there scrolling through his Instagram feed and chillin’. Finally, when he figured out how to unlock the doors on the rented, BMW, soccer mom SUV, I let myself in. “You don’t open doors?”, I said as I sat down and slammed the door. “Nah I don’t lol”, he said. I tilted my head and grabbed the door handle. Something told me to get out and run back to my crib but I thought fuck it, I am too hungry to not go eat and I don’t want to waste the outfit. Chivalry is clearly dead or dying but I am PMSing and needed some fresh yellowtail and salmon sashimi in my life. We were sitting in the car and he told me he had already had some Pat and Ron (Patron) and that he ate some salmon before he came to pick me up. WTF!!! Don’t offer to pick me up when you need a DD. I am not really into bumper cars and I don’t like playing Russian Roulette with my life. He lit up his blunt and sparked it. Again, I tilted my head. I don’t smoke with strangers so I declined when he offered because some people lace their shit and this was a first date. I still didn’t know if he was here to feed me or try to fuck me so I was cautious. Finally, after about 5 minutes of him taking the blunt to the neck, he drove off. One minute later, I bullshit you not, he pulled over so that he could smoke again. I am not really big on hot boxing whips because although I smoke, I don’t want the smell in my clothes and hair so I like to smoke on my deck or naked, while I shower. He smoked, went around the corner, pulled over, and blazed up for the third time. Again, I tilted my head. Ten minutes later we drove off and headed to Blue Fish. We pulled up to the restaurant and I stood out of the car for 5 minutes while he sparked his blunt AGAIN!!! I stood there thinking about my couch, my sanity, my vagina (for some reason), and my overall disdain for dating. Again, I tilted my head. By the time we were done with dinner, I learned this man has been married for years, I found out that all of his scientific beliefs stem from him from watching Jurassic Park as a child, and that in his opinion, white people are bad parents and kids who are affected by mass shootings in schools need to suck it up and grow from it. Again, I tilted my head. The ride home was no better. He asked for directions and when I told him where to turn, he told me he knew where he was going. He complained that I lived far from everything and commented on how I was being quiet and had a wall up. I wanted to say, “I don’t have a got damn wall up dummy, I don’t like your lame ass.” I got out of the car and turned around long enough to say goodnight. He asked me if he could come up and smoke and again, I tilted my head. The date was a disaster and I am not sure what aspect of my silent treatment on the way home could’ve been mistaken as an invitation to come inside. By this time it was clear that he had come to feed me and try to fuck me. I said no and walked up the stairs. I am not going to be dating for awhile. I love my couch, I know I am already half crazy but I am fine with that because it makes me awesome, my vagina is perfect and happy, and the dating scene is trash. I keep replaying the night, him needing to stop and smoke weed 4 times, him running the red light at the tollway and calling the lady who he cut off a bitch, and him telling me that I am “Cali aggressive”, whatever the hell that means. Again, I sit here and tilt my head.

July 7 2019

911

Silly me for thinking the search for the elusive WiFi password 20 minutes after getting to the cabin was a serious issue. By the time we got down the mountain we had; 2 bloody noses, 3 people with the shits, or some Ebola type virus that was spreading through the cabin like the swine flu, 2 nerve rattling earthquakes, 2 trips to the ER, 5 canceled flights from LAX to DFW, and a KKK flag sighting in the village. Trust me, I could not make this shit up if I had to. So let me recap the trip from hell…The first earthquake was about a 6.4 on the Richter scale and my panic attack then wasn’t shit compared to what happened when that 7.1 shook us up that last night. I saw my aunts wine glass slide from one side of the counter to the other and I ran in place like Scooby Doo, screaming at the top of my lungs, before I stutter stepped and ran outside crying to sweet baby Jesus, begging Him to make it stop. After what felt like an hour, but was realistically about 45 seconds, the Earth was still and I felt like a total asshole for scaring the shit out of everyone in the cabin. My nieces and nephews were more concerned about me than they were about the cabin sliding down the hill and my weed driven paranoia didn’t help. While all this was happening, my middle sister nonchalantly decided she was going to go to the ER because she had a crook in her neck. Either that or she needed some attention. Fuck the KKK, the record breaking earthquakes, and the fact that my cousin probably needed an IV and an ambulance because he was damn near dying from altitude sickness in the upstairs bedroom, her neck hurt so a solo trip to the ER was a must. This was strange to me and apparently no one else in the family gave a damn because they were all asleep when she got back around midnight. My silly ass, however, was still sitting on the couch wide awake. I was fully dressed with my Louis Vuitton luggage at my feet because I had to stay ready!!! Couldn’t let those damn earthquakes catch me slipping again. I am too stressed out to get into the details about my 5 canceled flights, the bus ride I took to the middle of the runway and back to the terminal last night, yes that happened, or the turbulent ass Southwest flight I am on right now. I am sleep deprived, cranky, and hungry. All I care about is getting home safely, seeing my cats, spending some alone time with my WeVibe, and clearing out my DVR from last week.

July 2 2019

Family

I don’t usually get the warm and fuzzies inside when I think about my family. We have seriously gone through some shit, like all families have. What little cohesion remained all loosened to abysmal nothingness when my mom and aunt sold Granny’s house after she died a few years ago. We were all so close that we could damn near finish each other’s sentences and now, I don’t even know where everyone lives anymore. We will NEVER be the same. Today, I am flying to Cali to visit and to spend the 4th of July in a huge cabin on Big Bear Lake with about 25 people who feel like strangers, but are connected to me by blood. The last time I went to Big Bear with all these people, I almost chartered a helicopter for 3 grand to fly home after the first night because it was unbearable to me. Luckily, I was able to call this guy back in the city who was trying to date me at the time and who probably would have roller skated up the mountain if he thought I would fuck him if he got my kids and I back to Calabasas safely. He drove up that afternoon, picked us up, and dropped us off at home in time to grab some Tender Greens for dinner. None of us in the family are happy that our bonds have become so loose. I miss my cousins, drinking with my aunts, and talking to my sisters about my dating life, or lack thereof. We still talk, but the laughter is missing and we don’t have anymore fun stories to share about memories made on that back porch. Sunday’s at Granny’s have been replaced with an emptiness that words can’t explain and no new Sunday activities can replicate. As I sit here and drink my coffee at Gate B6, I am thinking I should hit the bar for a quick mimosa or chilled tequila shot before I jump on this flight. Trust me, I have no fear of flying, I am legitimately anxious about this three night excursion up the mountain. Once the weed settles and the hangovers kick in, somebody is going to start acting ridiculous. Let me go grab this shot, and double check my emergency fund so I don’t have to call what’s his name if my son and I need to get the hell off of that mountain.

June 30 2019

#single

I was laying at the pool today, tanning myself to sizzling bacon crispiness, and I couldn’t help but to think about my ex. We were still together last summer and with my daughter being with her dad until August, if we were still together, we would be spending a lot of time together and taking trips while she isn’t here. I usually bury my head in a book or lose myself in my thoughts when I am at the pool. Today, I got a little sad. I don’t miss him, but I do miss having someone to talk to, someone to fuck, make love to, travel with, and give me butterflies in my stomach every time we talk or I get a notification that it is “him” (insert ridiculous emojis and nicknames for your significant other here). Let’s be clear, I meet a lot of men and women everyday. I know that I am still very damaged from that relationship. I remember being suicidal last summer. I had flown to NY to meet my ex’s family for the first time. He did not show up at the airport and I spent damn near 100 dollars to take an uber to our hotel in Jersey because he said he was in a meeting, that he loved me, and that I would see him soon. Three hours later, he got to the hotel. The sex was trash. For me, if I am not mentally feeling you, I can be as wet as a slip and slide, which I always am, but the sex will be whack. I wasn’t feeling him because I finally had to admit that he was a liar. During the course of our relationship, he lied so much that I often questioned my own sanity. He lied about creating a world famous banana pudding company, starting and funding an after school program, seeing other people, lied and said one of his friends damn near got beat to death to prevent me from visiting him one weekend, lied about loving me, and lied about his sexuality. I was very happy to see him when he did get to the room but I just wasn’t mentally there. The next day he told me that he didn’t want to be with me anymore and that he realized it as soon as he saw me the night before. Not only was I not going to meet his family but none of them knew who the fuck I was after being with him for 3 years. I know, call me stupid for holding on that long but I am a Pisces and it is very difficult for me to not romanticize about love and what it could be when I give my heart to someone. I flew home the next morning and got in bed. I spoke to my son, who was 21 at the time, and cried to him because I felt like too much of a dumbass to tell anyone else that I spent about 1500 bucks to fly to NY and get dumped. I remember thinking that I must’ve looked like ET with that blonde wig on or a hobbit when he said he didn’t want me anymore. I always thought I was a bad bitch. I make over six figures, have a Master’s Degree, am funny, can fuck like a porn star, cook like my Memphis born mother, and I am a freak in the bedroom. Who wouldn’t want me??? After experiencing that hurt and pain, I honestly felt that nothing would make it stop or go away. I was mad at myself for calling my son because a parent should NEVER put their stress on their children (we will save that story for another post). After days of crying in bed and repeatedly saying “I’m fine”, with the help of an ex, I eventually got over it. He and I talked a lot after the NY trip and even saw each other a few times. He continued to lie and I kept pretending that every girl that called him was his sister, that we were going to be together, that he wasn’t attracted to men, and that he only wanted me. Lies. The last time we spoke he was talking about driving 18 wheelers without a license and no longer being able to sleep on his mom’s couch because she was now engaged. What a fucking loser. This is why blogging is important. While writing this, I realized how sad his sorry ass is and how ridiculous I must’ve looked while fighting to make it all work. Trust me, I am not sad anymore and after dating again, I realize his dick was not much bigger than a cocktail weenie. I was not in love with his penis, I was in love with him. The whole situation was fucked up and life changing and until I meet someone else who gives me those electric butterflies in my stomach, I will continue to be #single.

June 28 2019

Sexy

Being sexy is more of a frame of mind than it is anything else. Sexy can not be defined. This is not some Pinterest quote or some shit that I googled, it is a fact. A lot of people asked me why I named the blog sexy, snatched, and single….well aside from being all three of them, I think the title is empowering. When I was a little girl, around the time my dad died, I had an uncle who would pinch my cheeks and call me fat mama every time he saw me. I had a male cousin always telling me how big my lips were, affectionately calling them soup coolers, and telling me how big my forehead was every time he saw me while slapping me across my hairline. I was so concerned about my appearance that I cut myself some bangs to cover my forehead, asked random strangers in public if they thought I was fat, and bit my bottom lip constantly because I thought that if I bent it in, no one would think my lips were big. First of all, my lips are average at best. I am sure there are very few men who look at me and think about me sucking their dicks because of my lips. They may think I am attractive and want to have sex with me period, but my lips do not scream…”Insert penis here!!!” There is not a damn thing that I can do about my forehead, which is considered a sign of beauty and had women who lived during The Renaissance plucking their own hairlines to get one, and I have had to learn that societal terms like “fat” and “skinny” have nothing to do with being sexy. The point is that sexy is, in my opinion, undefinable. Whatever you see when you look in the mirror, be happy with it. And if you aren’t happy with it, change it. Don’t keep doing the same shit you have been doing if you are unhappy with who you are. Swap the greasy food and midday naps for Cobb salads and cardio sessions if sexy to you, means being fit and losing unwanted pounds. Spoiler alert, there is no fat fairy that is going to visit you while you sleep, wave her magic wand, and glitter your cellulite away. If you want to be sexy, you make it happen.

June 25 2019

Transformation Tuesday

You ever go to the grocery story hungry? Like, on your way home from work after you have completely digested that 12:00 pm frozen burrito from lunch that reminded you of a snack you would have in college in between classes? This is one of THE WORST things you can do if you are trying to lose weight. When I go to the grocery store hungry, I am not thinking about kale and kombucha, I immediately start craving shit I don’t even eat; cheesesteaks, meat lovers pizzas, and apple pie. I walk up and down the aisles and pace back and forth trying to convince myself that I should bake a cake on a random Tuesday night because we all deserve dessert. This is bullshit. You do not need cake on a Tuesday just like you don’t need to wait until a Monday to start a diet or start working out. Stay away from people who have YOLO and Carpe Diem as their mantras while you are on your health journey. These people will have your ass at buffets and bake sales trying to convince you that you are living your best life with three plates of pizza and mojos in front of you. After I had my daughter I became very complacent. She was about 6 months old and I was still about 230 pounds. It was a random Tuesday that I decided I would eat a big ass piece of homemade, pound cake after lunch. I didn’t want it, hadn’t planned on having cake that day, and it was not my birthday. I wasn’t celebrating a damn thing. I decided to eat it because it was there. Some thankful parent decided to bake a homemade cake for our team and I decided to eat half of the damn thing right there in the office. My girlfriend Pam sauntered in while I was halfway into my “slice” and said, “Damn Andrea, are you going to eat all that cake?” I swallowed what was in my mouth and said, “I am already fat so I might as well.” Pam shook her head and said, “Well I guess if you want to stay that size, eat the cake?” I paused for a second. Like, who the hell did Pam think she was??? How dare her mention my size or weight? We were cool but she was not family and I initially thought she was dead wrong for her comment and I was pissed. She walked out and I stopped eating long enough to catch my breath and look down at the rest of my chunk of cake. I realized that Pam was right. I didn’t need the cake. Just because someone puts something in front of you doesn’t mean you have to eat it. I threw the cake in the trash and walked out of the office. My journey began. I bought a treadmill that night and had it set up in my bedroom.