THE DIVA TOOL KIT
by Ellen Wanjiru
I had breakfast last weekend with my good ole buddy Erik and out of the dozens of things we talked about, "the diva tool kit" stuck the hardest.
A diva tool kit is a set of tools kept in a special bag for spontaneous "nights out."
Every woman should be prepared for a scenario where there's an unplanned chance to go home with someone "special" for the night. The last thing you need is not to be ready for this type of situation and end up missing out on a sexy night or feeling uncomfortable because your not properly equipped for the evening.
This is where the diva tool kit comes in.
Single women dating should not be caught dead without their kit.
THE DIVA TOOL KIT SHOULD CONTAIN AT LEAST THE FOLLOWING:
1. Razor - to shave underarms, private areas and legs if need be
2. Shower cap - keep the coif from getting wet
3. Brush and comb - for touching up your coif
4. Wash cloth, travel size body wash and lotion
5. A pair of panties - for before or after, your choice
6. Toothbrush - for before and after
7. Condoms - goes without saying
8. KY- just in case
*The diva tool kit can be stored in a bag in the trunk of your vehicle.
A TALL AND HANDSOME UPDATE
by Ellen Wanjiru
I wrote a rather interesting post titled 'Standards and Requirements' on January 5th, 2010 after meeting a talk, dark and handsome man. Our meeting happened quite by chance: one of those random moments where you don't expect to meet anyone let alone someone that embodies all the surface elements.
There I was sitting at our table engrossed in my blackberry when out of nowhere appeared this man dressed in a black velvet blazer with a five o'clock shadow that would put George Clooney out of business. He greeted our host (his friend), said hello to my sister and then looked at me and smiled as he extended his hand. He was introduced to me by our mutual acquaintance as David. I smiled, shook his hand, watched him for a few seconds and returned to my blackberry. Immediately my mind started racing with WTF's and OMG's. But of course a lady must always play it cool. Five minutes later he asked me if I wanted another drink. I smiled politely and nodded yes. Conversation somewhat flowed between the fours of us but for the most part I didn't say much. I indirectly observed. After dinner, we migrated to the dance floor and ended up having a swell time. We flirted a bit and exchanged numbers at the end of the night and then he walked me to my car.
That encounter along with a simple yet profound question he asked me at the end of the night inspired the original Standards and Requirements post- http://vent09.blogspot.com/2010/01/standards-requirements.html
A few people have since asked about the tall, dark and handsome stranger and what came of it. Well, I'm saddened to report that absolutely nothing came of it. After that night, we communicated via text for a while. We flirted with the possibilities and kept each other amused. I'd gotten all the green signals from him so naturally I thought we were on the same page. We even hung out once at a jazz lounge and slow danced to a live band, which was a great moment or so I thought. I remember asking a bunch of questions in an effort to get to know him and conversing about likes and dislikes. After the night was over, he walked me to the car and hugged me goodnight and then gave me a peck on the lips. What should one have taken away from that? That he's interested, right? Wrong. We continued texting one another after that night and then all of a sudden he switched lanes.
Needless to say, I was left in the woods blindfolded with only a short branch to find my way home. I wasn't sure what exactly had or hadn't happened. But he later told me that he was seeing someone and didn't want to lead me on in any way. Ok, I respect that. However, shouldn't that have been established in the beginning? Why go through the motions if the flow isn't going in the same direction? So I regretfully walked away from that situation having never known what it could've been. Now every time I see his photo (we're Facebook buddies) I am reminded of how devilishly handsome he is and what I can't have. Just my luck...I meet the one man that I'm actually interested in and he isn't available. Better luck next time I guess.
One great thing that came out of all this (besides his million dollar question) was a series of short poems inspired by my temporary muse. Titles include: Slow Dancing In a Burning Room, Liquid Courage, Bordeaux Black and One Never Knows. If you wish to read, visit: thoughtsinblu.blogspot.com and look under the January tab.
IT'S MINE
by Anonymous
A friend of mine who shall remain nameless sent this to me a few weeks ago. I promised her I wouldn't post it until she made some revisions and came up with a pen name, however, I think it needs no revision. And since I am the owner of my blog (www.vent09.blogspot.com) I chose to share this well written piece with all of you. I'm curious to hear feedback...
My first question is why do guys always want to count orgasms? Do they understand that it should be about the journey to the orgasm and not solely about seeing how fast and how many times they can make us climax?
So the two guys I am having sex with both do the same thing: count and insist on seeing how many times they can make me reach an orgasm. I explain that for me having an orgasm is easy, though that doesn't apply to all women. Many of us can reach an orgasm better or easier all by ourselves, so their accomplishment isn't really a huge feat. Men really should focus on foreplay and the climb to the orgasm to ensure the most intensity and pleasure from the orgasm itself.
So despite the pleas to "make it his" I decided to sleep with a second of the three guys I'm dating. At risk of feeling I'd be classified as a ho, I decided that men do it all the time so why not? I'm tired ofthe double standards! Anyway, glad I did. Turns out they are both very good sexual partners and I get something very different from each of them. But something similar that I get from both of them is - counting orgasms and wanting to make "it" theirs.
The first partner alluded to it our first time together and by the third time was saying things like, "I want to make this mine" and "I don't want anyone else up in this." The second partner said during our first time together, "What do I have to do to make this mine?" Well at least he asked. And since we have pretty good open & honest conversations, I asked if it was sex talk. He verified that it was but that it held some meaning. He would like to know that no one else will be having the pleasure of my company sexually. We also discussed that there is a difference between wanting the sex to be his exclusively and wanting me exclusively as in a relationship. Interesting.
This email has been sitting in my folder and just came across it last night. I was with my #2 friend last night and again got the "I want this to be mine, what do I have to do?" question. So it reminded me to send this to you.
Is it just me or do all men ask this same question during sex? Why do all men focus too much on the orgasm and/or counting them?
By the way, my responses to their questions during sex are as follows:
1. So how many times did you come? I don't count. I can make myself come as many times as I want to. I was more concerned with what you were doing before I came.
2. What do I have to do to make it mine? It's not up for sale or lease. It's all mine baby. Best you can do is be glad I'm sharing it with you and treat it like the very special gift that it is.
CONFESSIONS OF THE OTHER WOMAN
by Raymond Chepkwony
For ages, I shared my thoughts, my feelings, my ups and my downs with you on my blog… Recently, I had a chat with a friend of mine. She is a gorgeous woman and one look at her; you’ll be picking your jaw off the ground. We got talking and she sent me her story on E-mail… It is riveting stuff. I suggest you take up a comfortable position and read this. I wonder what commission I should form to look into this… www.takecareofyourman.org.
Hi. My name is Elly.
I’m a 20-something year old Nairobi girl. I work here, I play here. Just a kawaida (round the way) girl. And one of those kawaida things I did that made me very much a Nai girl was that for 4 years I was the dreaded “other woman.” We shall call him Stan.
I met Stan at a birthday party that my then boyfriend dragged me to. Let’s call him Mike. The birthday boy was his close friend and he wanted to show me off to his boys. I learned later that they had a sort of rivalry on girls they hooked up with. Ken and Mike hung out though they were not very close friends.
Stan had an affinity for yellow women so I grabbed his attention from the moment I got there. So he made his way towards me. He had a quick wit so he got my attention and we cracked jokes the whole night. He made a few remarks that could be considered flirting but I didn’t take him seriously. After all I didn’t think someone would be bold enough to hit on a chic that was with her boyfriend. By the end of the night he had asked for my number. I gave it to him but being the nice girlfriend that I was, I told Mike about it. I later found out that they had a huge row about it. And it strengthened his resolve to pursue me. But he bid his time and finally he got his opportunity a few weeks later when Mike and I broke up. He called me up seemingly randomly and asked if I wanted to have coffee. I agreed and so we started communicating regularly. He had told me about his girlfriend early on so I hadn’t really thought that he was serious. He was a great guy and we became good friends. And we managed to keep it platonic.
That was until my birthday. As I mentioned earlier, I had broken up with Mike. So I was in some state and Stan did a good job of being a shoulder to cry on. He would cheer me up and listen to my endless lamentations and sometimes even hold me when I cried. He also did a good job of building my confidence and helping me build my self-esteem. On my birthday, everybody (my friends and family) forgot about it. Except him. He asked me to go see him at his house and he had planned this whole day for me. He cooked for me and watched my favorite movies and he had a gift for me. He turned a bad day into a memorable one. That was the first time I slept with him. He still had a girlfriend.
I’ve tried to rationalize what happened but I can’t find an answer. A list of excuses like I was on the rebound, I was emotional. But I don’t have a good answer. Things just happened and once we started we couldn’t stop. We had amazing chemistry. Before that I would’ve sworn that I would never date another woman’s man. I had never cheated on any of my boyfriends, so the thought of helping a man cheat had been abhorrent. A while later, he told me he had wanted me from the time he saw me. Something just drew him to me. He said he had never cheated before but I didn’t believe him. Maybe he was looking for a quick lay. And at first I felt guilty and scolded myself for being stupid. But neither of us could predict just how important we would become to each other.
We managed to keep our affair a secret for a couple of months. For one, we didn’t want my ex to find out. And we had many mutual friends and we knew if people started talking his girl would find out. And it was exciting sneaking around. There was a time I was going to his house and ran into one of his boys. I made up some relatives who lived in the area as an excuse since I lived at the opposite side of town. His boy even invited me to Stan’s place. It was hard to keep a straight face. He was honest about his girlfriend and sometimes we talked about her. He would tell me when they were having problems and I would give him advice. But we never discussed her details, what she was like. I didn’t want to know her, didn’t want her to become a real person. She was an abstract to me. Always there but never affected me directly. I don’t know how I managed to stay so detached cuz before that I was very possessive of my men. We planned our outings around her; he would let me know when he was available but never made me feel I should be at his disposal. I was allowed to be busy. And he promised me that he would never allow a situation where I would meet her and have drama. And apart from one occasion he managed to keep his word. Granted, I was curious about her, but vaguely. Her presence never affected me and we tried to make sure mine didn’t affect her. And for 4 yrs. we somehow managed to co-exist. She eventually got to know about my presence but I became an annoying friend. But she was hostile towards me. Maybe her intuition told her there was more. But since she never met me she had no way of confirming. There was a time I called him and she picked up. She gave me some serious words so I hung up. But she never considered me a threat enough to demand he stop associating with me.
Maybe it started as a fling but slowly our relationship became more. People started to find out about us. My girls, of course, tried to talk some sense into me. I wouldn’t listen. By this time I was in too deep. I met his parents, his siblings. But somehow his girl never found out. I hung out with him and his boys. At first they treated me like a temporary fancy. But after a while they realized there was more to it. To this day I cannot define what we were. We were best friends, lovers, and confidants. We would have 3hr long conversations every day. We would text, and IM and email. We saw each other at least 2-3 times a week. We loved each other. Once in a while we had fights and didn’t talk for weeks. But we missed each other too much. I hooked up with other guys once or twice. We would stop having sex, but continued being in each other’s lives. My boyfriend’s met him as my best friend. He would be there to give me advice about other men, and when the new dude broke my heart, he was there to help me pick up the pieces. He later told me that he hated when I linked up with someone but he felt that he was in no position to tell me anything. There was a time we stayed for a year without having sex. But it never changed anything between us. Never changed how he treated me. He was still there for me, gave me the same kind of attention as before. I was very happy.
And then one day, he called me and told me we should meet later in the evening cuz he had something he wanted to talk to me about. I immediately knew it was something about his girlfriend. I thought maybe they had had a fight because things hadn’t been smooth for them for some months. So I met him ready with my shoulder in case he needed it. I should have known something was wrong because of how he talked to me. He wasn’t his usual easy-going self. He jumped from one topic to the other. “I’m getting married” He dropped the bomb. It took me a minute or two to digest it. It was the last thing I had expected. “What, when, how?” I sputtered.
It turned out that they had gotten engaged 2 months prior. He was supposed to go pay dowry that coming weekend. Turned out he didn’t tell me everything. He apologized for keeping me in the dark and said he wasn’t sure how I would react. I wasn’t sure either, so I splattered a huge smile on my face and congratulated him. What else could I have done? He was my best friend and he was getting married. The next few weeks were crazy for me. I didn’t allow myself to feel the ball of pain in the pit of my stomach. See, we had never defined our relationship. We didn’t need to. We just were and we were happy with that. So since we never made any promises I didn’t feel like I could say anything. But something changed after that. First I was upset that he hadn’t told me about such an important thing. I was his best friend, didn’t I deserve to know? He had opened a rift that day. I found myself thinking back the four years and wondering what I had gained from all this. And for the first time I questioned what I really meant to him. I started having doubts that had never occurred to me before. Questioning what he felt for me. But I never showed him this. As far as he was concerned we were good. He was also busy with wedding-plans so he didn’t notice the change.
The week before the wedding I threw him a bachelor’s bash. Yes. I organized with his boys and gave him a bachelor’s party. Even took him to a strip club. Let him to do all the things that dudes do at a bachelor’s bash. Then went home and made love to him. For the last time, though I didn’t know it at that time.
Two days later I was having lunch with my girlfriends at a popular restaurant. Halfway through lunch, my pal who was sitting opposite me suddenly said “Shit.” I looked up and saw her looking behind me. “Don’t look back but Grace- Stan’s girl- just walked in.” Of course I turned back. And I wish I hadn’t. I was looking at an obviously pregnant girl. At least 7 months pregnant. To this day I don’t know how I got out of the restaurant and got home. I thought back to the one time I got pregnant and he had asked me to get an abortion. He wasn’t ready for kids. And I felt our relationship would get messed up with all the drama. So I got rid of it. I don’t know why this hit me hard. I could forgive him for everything but not this. How could he have a baby with someone else?
I sent him a text and congratulated him on his baby. And then, I switched off my phone. When I switched it back I had several missed calls, text messages and many voicemails. I deleted them without reading. He tried to call me every day. He finally sent a long email trying to explain what happened. It cut me deep to my heart but I never responded. On the day of his wedding, I went out of town. I know I was running away but there was no way I could handle it. I knew many of our mutual friends would try to call me. So I left my phone behind. And that weekend I finally let myself weep. I wept for what we had. I wept for the stupid girl I was. I wept for the 4 yrs. of my life I will never get back. I hated him for how he handled the whole situation, for not telling me what had happened. I felt stupid for not knowing something was up. I hated him for ruining four yrs. in just 4 months. But I still loved him. I loved him for the person he helped me become.
I especially wept because I knew I will never see him again.
I’ve never saw Stan again. It’s been 2 years since and there are times and I still miss him. He left a hole in my heart that has been hard to fill. I have loved others, but there has never been another Stan. I don’t think there ever will be. And I know I should be ashamed for what I did to the other woman or regret those 4 years but I don’t. You see, all the men I have dated and loved, Stan treated me and loved me better than all of them put together. And I can’t regret that.
YES, MILEAGE DOES MATTER!
by Raymond Chepkwony
My good friend Symo has decided to sell his old jalopy. This car’s odometer has more mileage than an Eldoret Express. Furthermore he has let the delusions of love get to him and he has decided to settle down. I know I should be congratulating him, but guys, his fiancé has been around the hood. I grew up near her and I can tell you that she’s been around the block more than once… I’ve even tapped “that” from her and in my defense, she’s the one who “Chips Fungad” me…actually, she “shamba boy’d” me! The moral question I am now left to grapple with is… SHOULD I TELL HIM?
If you were buying a car, and you noticed that it had mileage like its been used in a trans Africa safari, would you still buy it for the same price or would you negotiate a cheaper deal? My guess is that you’d negotiate a better deal. What if a friend of yours had at some point test driven it for a week or two but didn’t like it because it kept breaking down, or your friend noticed that the alarm system wasn’t working right and so every time he parked it, he noticed that he’d come back to find that the mileage had gone up and your friend has a sworn affidavit that the culprit was his neighbor! Would you still buy such a car? How about this… if I, as your very good friend, allowed you to buy such a car, wouldn’t I be failing you as a friend? Shouldn’t I as your good friend tell you that the car just isn’t worth it! You are looking to buy a private vehicle and someone is selling a run down used taxi only that you can’t tell because it has recently gotten a paint job, and spinning rims and not to forget, the “surround sound!"
I have done extensive research on this subject matter and my thesis will be published in the world acclaimed journal called Mileage Monthly. For sneak peaks however, kindly visit my world acclaimed site www.1000miles.co.ke. Being true to my friends, I now hereby give you sneaks into the kind of mileage you should expect in a “vehicle”.
Self Driven Private Car
This is the type of car all men want. It is normally “dealer maintained” meaning the woman had a harsh Dad and she never got the chance to “go around much” but she’s learned how to make do with herself! From the first day you go for a drive, you can tell by the feel that the “car” you are driving is still on point. Everything is in its right place and the ride though slightly constrained, it still is divine and you can’t wait for a long weekend to take this “car” out of town for a serious spin! Guys…I hope you are getting my drift!
Company Maintained Private Car
Guys, how can you tell a company car from the word go? Well, the body work will tend to have certain dents…nothing major though. This car however, doesn’t know its way home. Meaning you don’t have to drive it home. Should you find a bed and breakfast somewhere, then it will park there. Should you feel like starting it and let things run in the parking lot, this car will not hesitate or breakdown on you. It has changed hands a number of time and so the ride tends to be rather rocky and the car takes a rather wide turn but…not all is lost. This car is still well maintained and as it has been in different hoods, it’s the kind that doesn’t discriminate. You know what I mean? Black, White, Asian,Chinese…its been all over and this car is looking to retire. The mileage count is in no way on the lower side, but it has enough on it to make you know that it will mix it up if that’s your thing. It can go rough and rugged and wild, and it can still work on the smooth roads. It will never breakdown when taken on long journeys and is just as efficient for the “quick” rides.
Stay with me guys…stay with me…I don’t want to lose you in my parables! Aaaight!
The Taxi
The first time you drive this car and it asks for money, then my friend, you’ve just driven a taxi. The taxi has mad crazy mileage and its had passengers from all walks of life. Unfortunately, the largest percentage of its visitors are drunk guys who after imbibing in cheap, dimly lit pubs, will then be pleased with the interior of this vehicle and will not notice the odometer of the vehicle and so they’ll part with money not worth the trip. This car is mainly seen at night and associates with men who are easily trapped by the fake beauty. The spinning rims, the bad paint job that looks good only under dim lights and because when drunk, a man’s mind will just want to get a ride, they’ll not feel the cranky nature of the ride. In short…if a mama will only go out with you when you have money, and she’ll only give it up to you in the cover of night, and she’ll ask for rent and things are “kinda loose”… then my friend, you have a taxi in your hands!
The Matatu
Now…people, we all know how matatus are. Its recklessly driven and can change lanes at will. Has had more dents than you care to imagine and our folks always warn us against them. For some reason, some guys still buy cars with mileage like a route 58 matatu and dents like a route 36 matatu and its hyped up like a route 23 Westlands Nissan. What am I saying?
Well, the mama is down for everything freaky and hasn’t ruled out swinging and has even encouraged a three some and she believes that abstinence and being faithful are terminologies said by church folk. This mama can give you one hell of a ride. The type that blows your mind away. However, you always know that this type of vehicle immediately gets occupants when you alight. Now, if your friend wants to buy this matatu being passed on as a private car, then it’s the solemn duty of the boys to stop this trade from taking place. Or d I lie???
The Eldoret Express/Trans Africa
These are vehicles that carry all sorts of baggage and we all know how they get packed in the festive season. The mileage in these buses is just beyond comprehension. This needs experienced drivers and only a few chosen ones can have the guts to drive buses like this.
What I am saying here is simple....if a woman is down on the first night. If she’s a groupie and she’s passed back and forth from one friend to another. If the day you get some, she gives it to you as reads the newspaper. If she’s on a first name basis with characters that go by names like “OTI PAPA” or “MAN LIKE NJORO” or she has a friend called “OTERO” who has scars and fresh cuts every time you meet him, then the mileage on her is like an Eldoret Express Bus. If a brother is settling down and buying such a car, then its your solemn duty as a brother, to tie him up on a tree and smack the living daylights out of him. He is obviously possessed by bad spirits.
Now ladies have the tendency of claiming low mileage and when you finally get some, you can feel that the “well” has been explored and mined beyond its looks. Obviously a woman will blame it on equipment but fact is, 80% of all men have similar sized equipment. So this frivolous claim should be dismissed for what it is. Besides, if a musician is invited to play music in a private showing, only to find that this private showing was held in a packed stadium, then its only normal that he feel overwhelmed by the occasion.
Guys, wish me luck as I tell my good friend that he is about to spend his life trying to drive the bus he is purchasing for the price of a private car. I hope he takes it kindly, I am just fulfilling a duty. I am being my brother’s keeper. At the end of the day, just like a car, when it comes to women, MILEAGE DOES MATTER.
FIVE FINGER FESTIVAL OF FUN
by Raymond Chepkwony
A statistic done by a very idle and rather creepy professor showed that 95% of all men have “flown solo”. The same study went on to indicate that 43% of all men are “frequent solo flyers” and are known to take to the “palm springs” once a month. The study further went on to say that 25% of all men surveyed indulged in the 4Fs (Five Finger Festival of Fun) more than once a week. Of more concern however is that 8.3% of men in the sample study engaged in “right hand manoeuvres” daily. In a survey I recently carried out, I also established that sex is the leading cause of pregnancies and STATISTICS!
Guys, we’ve all been lonely in the house, watching porn and the mama you expected to join you bounced. The weather being cold, one can sometimes be tempted to “give a handshake to the El-Presidente”! Some men are known to take things as far as inserting strange objects on their back ends to heighten the “one man show” experience! Hey… as long as you are alone… then do you what you must!
Why then, I ask, is masturbation-I finally said it- regarded as a shameful act? Lets face it…women are known to let down guys every so often and sometimes, one is forced to take matters into his own hands…LITERALLY! Not only is it known to have immense therapeutic values, but it is a well known fact that this art of self indulgence can sometimes be better than the real thing! Look at the number of toys available for men in the market. Multitudes of them are now retailing in many of our stores. From life sized Spanish dolls-which are made in china-to tiny objects of whose use I have yet to establish. Every guy goes through a “dry spell”. We all have that two weeks when all your women were either “rolling” or were out of town, or were with their husbands! To counter the possibilities of insanity, sometimes, a man does what he needs to do. Sometimes, the call of nature overwhelms you and you make a connection with the Vaseline!
As I have taken it upon myself to offer solutions to all of men’s problems, I put together a group of women to advise men on how it should be done. The full and detailed results can be found on the site www.stupidwankmachine.co.ke and some of the highlights of this report to be published in a leading journal I will detail here.
The Visual Wank Bank
Have you ever been alone and your mind strayed to a hot and stunning woman you’d had the pleasure of seeing but not greeting? That my friend, is your wank bank calling you to duty. Guys, you should take it upon yourself to always store these images for a “rainy” day. Ever wondered how it’d be to shag your neighbor’s househelp? Well… look at her as she’s all wet doing laundry and store in your most sacred place. When your dry spell hits, then my friend, kindly make a withdrawal from your visual wank bank and in a matter of minutes, you are sorted!
The No Chance In Hell Experience
Everytime she moves and sways, you know you want her. Her beauty, elegance and style all have your jaw dropping to the ground. Now, instead of making a fool of yourself by approaching this creature of greatness, with whom you stand no chance with, treasure those moments you see her for they may just soon…very soon…come in-pardon the pun-HANDy. And as the saying goes, “a bird in hand, is worth two in the bush”. So, you’ve got all you need to have lasting memories of your jaw dropping crush!
The Jug-asaurus Rex Experience
Now…it is said that some creatures called dinosaurs once roamed the face of our planet. Well…those creatures need not be long gone my friends. Have you ever seen a woman whose breasts you felt were talking to you? Ever seen a pair of twins that you just wanted to reach out and grab? Well, if you have, then you have come across a creature I call The Jug-asuarus Rex!
When in your own comfort, the pillow often gives good…GREAT company. So take the leap and talk to those bosoms. Tell them all you wanted to say and feel free to get naughty and freaky with them!
Impossible is Nothing
Its not just an add my friends. Impossible really is nothing. Guys, when in your own comforts, just put the impossible together. J-lo’s booty, Rihhana’s face,Beyonce’s body… Mariah’s twins. Yeah…who said life is harsh. Life is just that sweet people. Make it special and throw in Ciara’s moves and you’ll know what I mean.
The Cassava Effect
It is a well known fact that all cassavas have the same skin. It is also a commonly known fact that not all cassavas taste the same. Guys, we all know that girlfriends and wives don’t like “mixing things up”. When alone and in need of self gratitude, don’t pat yourself on the back. NOPE… go ahead and do what you need to do. Mix things up. Shake it up. Make it memorable and pleasant. Take senior in your hands and tell him “today, its just me and you…you are in for a ride of your life!" Mix up the art. Don’t just do it. Do it good. Don’t just get it over and done with. As itr is, the girlfriend is already getting it over and done with after which she says “nifunike ukimaliza”! surely…when you are treating yourself..make it count!
Ladies, we know that you know when a man has visited “palm springs”. Do not take offence. He is just supplementing his need with a little self drive. Its not that you aint enough for him…its just that every so often, a man needs his peace and his space. Do not think of life as black or white…think of his “handling of himself” as that grey area. As I always wisely say, “if sex is a tool of communication, then masturbation is just a way of talking to oneself”! My good and kind ladies, would you rather your man is in constant “communication” with other women or would you rather every so often, he has a conversation involving his right hand and overheard by Miss Vaseline. Well…my point is proven!
SCARED OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN
by Oyunga Pala
The average male is so afraid of making a fool of himself that he would rather bungee jump for a free beer than approach a dazzling beauty.
I am not scared of rodents especially rats. A girlfriend told me about a rat holed up in her kitchen. Her two male roommates afraid of extermination had given all sorts of excuses. One said that as long as the rat did not touch his priced liquor it could stay. The other chose the more humane route of starving the sneaky intruder as way of getting it to leave. Two weeks on, the rat had grown bolder, darting through the kitchen once in full view of guests. Rat poison was out of question because of the likely event that the cherished small housedog would end up as the unintended victim. My zeal to hunt it down was rejected after I showed up with a club, wearing the menacing grin of a bounty hunter. She was scared of the looming bloodbath. Afraid that if I let loose alone in her locked kitchen, I would be like the proverbial bull in a china shop. Finally she said, ” Thanks, but no thanks”.
She was more terrified of my final solution than she was of the rat. I did not insist any further. It is not easy to explain why one person’s fear is another’s idea of an adrenaline kick. Fear of the known and the unknown is a shared human trait. The telling difference between men and women is that guys rarely admit to being scared of anything. You know the classic line” Me! Scared?”
In a male world, stupid brave is rewarded. The sensible coward is despised. When I was younger, the only fears my ego admitted to openly were the fear of God and unforeseen acts of nature such as a tsunami and hot porridge. But now that I am older and wiser, I can frankly say that my list needs updating. With reluctance, I add the randomly occurring fear of beautiful women. It is a strange phobia because it is selective. I can control my neck itching for a second glance at the passing beauties in the streets. I always remember to keep my mouth shut when the leggy airhostess in a short skirt bends over to help the old lady in the adjacent row fasten her seatbelt. On many one-on-one occasions, I have actually passed for witty.
In my past life as a magazine editor, frequent interaction with stunning models was part of the job. After supervising numerous photo shoots, I systematically became desensitized developing the demeanor of an art critic at a gallery: silent appreciation and suitably remarking only when addressed.
But I am not immune to dumbstruck moments. Recently in a supermarket, I met an old acquaintance accompanied by her two sisters. The older sister had the familiar chubby look of your bible-thumping auntie from shags, minus the headscarf and shabby sweater. She thought my writing was chauvinistic.
I was surprised that she read my column. We enjoyed an instant rapport until the last-born sister, a statuesque woman in her twenties, showed up. She had her back to me initially as she reached for an item on the top shelf. Over six feet tall, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt that exposed her athletic toned bare arms. The kind of arms one could stroke for days. My older sister tapped her and said, “Meet the writer I was telling you about”. She spun around.
The combined effect of her utterly devastating physical package, perfectly dented dimples and her strong voice hit me blindside. Abruptly, I was lost for words. She said something as she gave me a firm handshake. I did not hear a thing. My mind was swirling. Was she smiling and talking to me at the same time? I must have gone deaf as well.
I managed to mumble something back that was not even remotely connected to her greeting. This was a live comedy skit. There I was holding a grin similar to that of a man guilty of letting out a smelly fart in a packed lift. My coherence was rapidly degenerating every time I attempted to speak. The older sister says, ” She is a student in the UK.” My response, “That means you are not from here?” (Thanks Einstein!) The three sisters exchanged glances and moved right along. The older sister perhaps sensing my brain freeze concluded, “We will be seeing you around?" For reasons that are still unclear, I blurted back “Yes! on Facebook!”
Given my established persona as a sanctioned male chauvinist, I could not help laughing at myself after the incident. I was human after all. The average male is so afraid of making a fool of himself that he would rather bungee jump, plunging 50m down the Victoria falls for a free beer than approach a dazzling beauty.
Nowadays relationship experts will be quick to reach for the rules. “Be confident. Act natural. Pay attention to what she is doing. She is only human.” It sounds good on paper. Face to face with a true beauty the rules are the last thing that jump to mind.
Therefore it is a relief to learn that sporadic fear brought about by certain beautiful women is a valid medical condition. The medical term is Caligynephobia; a fear of beautiful women that may cause some level of impairment, either physical or mental. If you have ever suffered physical disability upon the sight of flawless thighs, do not take it personally. The medics assure us that it is normal not unusual.
A few frank men in our ranks will readily admit that fear of saying something dumb, is probably the only reason that hinders many of us from dating the women we rightly deserve in life. The lame excuses are pathetic to say the least. “She may be beautiful but she is daft”. “She is not wife material”. “I cannot trust her to be faithful before I make my first million”.
So instead we settle for the bombshell’s best friend, plain Jane. It is called sours grapes. Or put another way- Caligynephobia.
THE POWER OF THE K.I.S.S.
by Ellen Wanjiru
What makes a kiss memorable? Is it the man, the chemistry, the moment, the experience of time spent leading up to "the kiss" or is it the art and skill that goes into knowing how to kiss? For me, the latter trumps the former. Kissing is an art. Much like carving the human form out of a piece of fine wood- it takes time, patience, respect for the art and the know-how to master the skill.
If I have to think really hard about how many great kisses I've had then perhaps I haven't experienced that many. Well, maybe just a few. Actually three fantastic kissers stand out in my mind. I use the word "fantastic" because whenever my mind travels back to those moments, a sexy smile comes across my face and my eyes slightly roll back in time as the memories resurface.
I adore kissing someone who truly appreciates and knows how to kiss. Someone that understands the slow and sensual pace required to move from delicate and passionate pecks to full on tongue-in-mouth action, which should come much later in the act. That time in between is THE most important aspect; it's the foreplay of kissing.
Most fools rush in where artful kissers tread and end up missing out on the magic that transpires. The magic being - soft biting and tugging of the bottom or top lip (whatever tickles your fancy), the unspoken dialect while stealing glances at each other in between kisses, the strategic placement of the hands on the back of the neck or side of the face, the head/neck movement, the pauses and pulling back just as he or she comes in for another, which in turn makes him or her chase the kiss a.k.a the thrill in which case can be extremely erotic, or better yet, the idea that nothing else exists except that moment because the kiss is that powerful and damn near orgasmic. Yeah, I said it. There is such a thing as an orgasmic kiss and it is indeed attainable. One would have to be present in the moment, present in the act and susceptible to a higher level of intimacy- a level much higher and far more powerful than sex.
Quote of the Day:
Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves- Albert Einstein
BATTLE OF THE SEXES -
S[HE] BE[LI]EV[ED]
by Ramond Chepkwony & Ellen Wanjiru
Ray-
A friend of mine recently called me for a chat. I could feel the pain in her voice so I asked her to meet up. Turns out she was distraught after finding out that her boyfriend has been having something on the side. She wondered why he lied to her and why she believed the sweet nothings time and time again! Obviously I had to tell her the “truth”-my version of it anyway- just to sooth her obviously broken heart. And yes I was looking for an angle to “hit that” because let’s face it; there’s no easier mama to shag than one who is suffering from a broken heart: the fresher, the easier and the better.
Ellen-
Wow…I’m still trying to get over “the fresher, the easier and the better” statement. Your cold and heartless ways never cease to amaze me. You’re such a man! You mean to tell me you would’ve hit that had she been willing knowing good and well that the poor girl is suffering from a full blown case of broken heart syndrome? I guess that’s the Ray Chekwony way to “sooth” a broken heart, huh? Let me tell her my version of the truth and then try to hit it for the sake of a quick nut that may not even be worth it. Good job Ray! You’re mother would be so proud. If more men knew how to be friends with women instead of having ulterior motives I think our melting pot would be a more festive soup bowl. My heart goes out to this girl because a broken heart is not exactly easy to mend. But the heart is resilient and it will get better again. P.S. – do try and stay away from Raymond.
Ray-
I had to ask myself the question, “Why do men have the urge to be unfaithful?” Even worse is that they will cheat on a drop dead gorgeous woman with some mama you’d not look at twice! The more I thought about it, the clearer the answers became! Two answers popped into my mind and yes... I had one of those “Eureka” moments only that I didn’t run across the street stark naked, but trust me, I almost did.
1- The Gene Pool Effect.
Men have it coded in their D(EOXYRIBO)N(UCLEIC) A(CID) (DNA(dē'ĕn-ā'} to cheat. Yes, some guys may claim sainthood and say they’ve been loyal to the same woman for the last thirty years, and to such claims I say “Yeah Right!” Their lying asses have just never been caught in the act. They are the smart ones: always kept their stories straight and their office network poor especially in the evenings! People, men are wired to want to fornicate with more than one woman at any given time period. Granted, we can stay faithful for say one year... after that, well...the gene pool effect swings into action! It’s our way at cursing Eve for getting us kicked out of Heaven. Our troubles can be attributed to Eve’s mischievous nature. So ladies, every time you discover your man has been with someone else, please don’t bash his head in because he is nothing more than an innocent bystander in the struggle! He is powerless against the forces of science! It’s in the DNA! I can’t emphasize that enough!
Ellen-
Hmm, now science is to blame for cheating men? I’m almost (not quite) inclined to agree. There is SOME truth to it…men ARE wired “differently”. I think men are captivated by the feel and taste of new a** and will go to great lengths to acquire something new just for the smell of it! No matter what the dude has at home or across town, the prospect of sleeping with someone new takes over both brains and liquify’s whatever’s left. Awww…you can stay faithful for one year? How lucky we are to get 12 months of honesty out of you. I’m a little impressed because that actually means you made some sort of effort. I have yet to find a man that can logically explain why men cheat when the home front is happy. I’ve seen and heard obvious reasons why men cheat: she's not giving up any at home, she’s gained some weight, not a good cook or lover, we're not getting along or whatever the case might be. What I'm trying to figure out is when things ARE good at home and men still cheat....what is the cause? How typical that you blame Eve for your troubles yet Adam had a brain of his own but decided to bite the apple against his better judgement. Therein lies the problem ladies and gentlemen…men don’t think about the repercussions; instead they act out of the need for instant gratification and satisfaction. So ladies, any time you discover your man has been with someone else, please don’t hesitate to bash his head in and rip the damn DNA out! Ok, ok, so maybe don’t bash his head in cuz I wouldn’t want to condone violence but feel free to tear him a new one as well as re-wire the DNA and never look back.
Ray-
2- The “Good Men” are hard to find effect...
FACT is that good and decent men have been hunted down to extinction. And who are the causes of this extinct species? WOMEN. You are your own worst enemies. Nowadays, when I go clubbing, I put on my wedding band and all I have to do is sit back and watch them come! The wedding band is an aphrodisiac. Forget Rhino horns and funny blends from “Mganga toka Tanzania”. Forget the magical effects of “Kamute”. The wedding band works miracles. Women are on the prowl for a good man. So much so that if the good man is already taken, you will do all you can to muscle your way in! You are willing to slug it out! In the meantime, there’s a man disproving the Swahili elders who said...“Fahali wawili wakipigana, nyasi hu-umia”. As women engage in a slugfest and compete, one guy is reaping the benefits of it all. Who said you can’t have your bread buttered on all sides!
Ellen-
So we blamed science initially and now we’re on to blaming women for the extinction of good and decent men? You’re on a roll! How about we blame it on the ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-alcohol being consumed inside the club for clouding our senses and making us do foolish things like put on wedding bands (when you’re clearly not married) and approaching married men in search of a “good” man. For starters, you’re in a club so the ideal pickings are slim and questionable. And for the record, you can’t put the chicks at the club in the same category with all women. All women don’t go after married men; just the ones who still haven’t a clue. So very sad. What’s even sadder is that you actually put on a wedding band and hit the club scene for some action. Poor guy.
Ray-
As for why men lie like they do... well, the truth is that they don’t. Men speak what their minds always tell them to speak. Ladies, if you ask a man whose just gotten laid, if he’s cheating on you... the truth is that the functional brain at that moment is not the one that thinks when he’s at work! Try thinking lower... not his tummy low-unless you found him with mama mboga-...think under the belt low! That brain is still in control and that brain dictates what he says. So the correct answer is that he’s not cheating on you. In fact he wants some right about now! That sort of rational thinking is what the world needs! The reason a man gets caught out on his lies is when his normal mind takes over and insists on overruling the previous utterances of the lower brain! That’s when he does something foolish like call you someone else’s name while in bed. The tug and tussle between the brains is one that can’t end well. Guys, when having sex... KEEP QUIET! Do no utter a word! That’s how you end up saying “Scolastica” instead of “Monica”.
Ellen-
The world needs men to think with their lower brains? That’s frightening! Men lie like they do because they’re idiots and the idea of considering someone else’s feelings is way too far fetched for them to comprehend and act accordingly. Or better yet, just don’t cheat. Have the balls to get out of the relationships and then go and bone as many chicks as you please. Why string one woman along with endless lies and empty promises? Just cut her loose!! She’ll get over it with time. Lying is so over-rated. A woman will respect you more if you man’d up and told her the truth. You never know, she may still want to stay and engage in an open relationship. My point is – give women a choice. It’s not cool to insult our intelligence with this normal and lower brain bullshit...and to be honest that is why it “never ends well”. Tell it like it is and give us the choice to stay or pack our bags. 9 out of ten, we’re packing our bags!
HOW TO EVADE MARRIAGE - A BACHELOR'S GUIDE
by Oyunga Pala
"Marriage is an act that, with the benefit of hindsight, I now consider on par with smoking. A bad habit that you either pick up when you are young and horny, or manage to avoid until you are old enough to afford expenses"-Anonymous
Marriage has this uncanny ability to sneak up on bachelors like a thief in the night. In fact the more adamant the man, the harder they fall. Without knowing how or why, we suddenly decide we are going to get married. So if you are hanging around a woman who wants to walk you down the aisle and you ignore the signs, you are going down. This does not mean that men are petrified by marriage. What actually scares the living daylights out of men is the thought of being bound by law to the wrong woman.
Is the sound of wedding bells getting too close for comfort? The writing is always on the wall.
I have attempted to put together the tell-tale signs of a woman who is making the moves on you:
SEES NO EVIL, SPEAKS NO EVIL
Your girlfriend has finally come to terms with your annoying ability to fart at the slightest provocation. She is doing your laundry including your boxers and she is rivaling your mum when it comes to preparing your favourite dish- beans and chapati. In fact she knows every thing about you: what makes you mad and what gets you excited and how many beers it takes to get you to start speaking rubbish. She will wait up for you and will not complain much. In other words, you have been embraced with all your flaws.
GETS PREGNANT
It is a strategy since the cave woman and if you ever fall for it, you can only have yourself to blame. Women just do not become pregnant, not with condoms, morning-after-pills and period cycle counting. It is always a conscious decision or there is no way you would have dragged her into bed. Times have changed. Carrying the man’s child does not guarantee marriage anymore, but for some guys, fatherly aspirations always catch up. It is straight emotional blackmail, so if you are not prepared to embark on fatherhood just yet, think before you act. Be in charge of monitoring the contraception.
MOVING IN
Women are masters of disguise. It is interesting to watch them worm themselves into a prospective mates house. It always starts with the toothbrush. Then the extra clothes. Before you can say, “ eeh!” her weekend sleepovers have extended to Tuesdays. Half your closet space is gone and you are using body lotion instead of Vaseline. Look out for that toothbrush.
"MINE" CHANGES TO "OUR"
Gradually ‘I’ also changes to ‘we’. You slowly lose your identity and priorities. That means your aspirations to get a home entertainment unit will be overtaken by the pressing need to stock up your kitchen because, “ We need a microwave and a bigger fridge?” She will want to change your furniture, get rid of the drab stuff and get something more in vogue. You have cushions everywhere. The house arrangement has changed, stuff has been turned around and there is a framed picture of both of you in the bedroom. It is not always a good idea to buy stuff together because in the event of a break up, the woman always keeps the stuff even if her only contribution was pointing out the fridge in the shop window.
MEET THE PARENTS
You suddenly have to meet her folks and some of us just do not do parents. Her mother has your cell phone number and will call you every time to tell you in this day and age of voicemail and SMS to remind her daughter to call home. If the mother lives on a farm, it is fresh produce and a limitless supply of eggs for you. Do not bond with her dad especially if he is 6” 2 and you do not plan to marry her. Some enemies are best left unknown.
WE ARE FAMILY
If she cannot get to your mother she will go for your big sister. Mothers are a particular favorite. If she manages to get cozy with your mum, you are sunk because it will be double jeopardy. When a mother starts to talk grand children, you will know its gotten bad. You will realize she has won over some vital allies, when they start going shopping together without you and laughing at private jokes. The next level becomes your family. She will insist on accompanying you to every family function and will always be the helpful, respectful girlfriend tidying up with your aunts afterwards in the kitchen. She will moan over your relatives louder than you and the female ones will be lining up like a mass choir to shout, “ We want Angela!, she is just like us”
REVERSE PSCHOLOGY
If she figures you are scared she will probably employ reverse psychology tactics and pretend that marriage is the last thing on her mind. She begins to play the free spirit role, hinting that marriage equals bondage and suggesting that her heart may be with someone else. The thought of losing the girl will make men wimpy and set them off in a mad dash for the ring! Checkmate! Next? Till death do us part. Sucker!
TRYING TOO HARD TO BE ONE OF THE BOYS
If you ever go out to a neighborhood bar and you find six guys, hanging out with one woman, that is wife material masquerading right there. She becomes so like the boys that they stop seeing her as a female. Typically, one of the boys will blurt out, “ Check out the fine lady?” and she will be first one to go, “ Where?” She will accompany you to your dingy joints, drink cheap liquor and goat soup out of a tin cup. If you are into sports, she will attend every game, including your practice sessions. When the referee makes a false she will be the one being restrained and shouting obscenities. That is all good until you are hitched. Suddenly boy stuff sucks.
ROLE COACHING
You slowly start to realize that you are being coached into the role of future husband, which means you have to accompany her for shopping, accompany her to church on Sundays, drop her at the salon and pick her up later. You will also notice that most Saturdays are spent at wedding receptions and once in a while you will be dragged to a wedding committee meeting. If she is a single mother, she stops introducing you to her child as uncle and next thing you know, the toddler is calling you daddy.
THE MUSHY STUFF
Ever watched the movie ‘The One’ starring Jet Lee? That is what happens, you become ‘the one’. She turns on the mushy channel, and strokes your ego in a way you never thought possible. You are her happiness, her knight in shining armor, the dream lover. Phone conversations start to end with “ I love you” and she is rather affectionate in public. You are involved in every major decision, down to change of nail polish. The impression created is that life would never be the same without in it. You are the One.
MEET THE PEOPLE TOUR
If there is any single important person in her life, you will meet them. That list could include her pastor and nursery school teacher. All her girlfriends know you, and you find yourself hanging out more with the girls. She will use any single opportunity to introduce you, striking up conversations with strangers in a supermarket and saying, “ My boyfriend likes Guinness too?”
One thing about marriage though. If it doesn’t break you, it will make you. It is up to you to exercise your power of choice.
WHY MEN LOVE LESBIANS
by Oyunga Pala
Find out why two women bond by erotic passion is a yummy sandwich beckoning
The unspoken rule in polite company is ‘Keep your fantasies to yourself’. But there are two fantasies that Kenyan men have no problem admitting to. The prepubescent fascination with the exploited female house help a.k.a the mboch and lesbians.
So when some of my friends reported occasional encounters involving straight girls gone wild in the club after too much tequila exchanging saliva as willing participants of a dare challenge, I did not bother to feign shock. The first guy whispered it to me over a lunch meeting. He claimed to have been approached by two women on separate incidents. They wanted him to join in as the third wheel to fulfill a bisexual fantasy. I thought, “Lucky devil!” But he pretended to sound reluctant and added something about how amoral the girls were these days. The other fellow recounted a recent incident that involved two young women heavily petting in a bar. They tried to persuade his girlfriend to join them for the night. His girlfriend reeled back in horror and he thought she overreacted.
I may not have the resources to conduct a detailed research on why guys are incredibly fascinated by lesbians, but I can tell you the obvious for free. Men adore women; particularly, women who act like they are down for anything. Access to two eager women at the same time is a common boyhood fantasy that resides in the ‘pure bliss’ realm. In fact, it is the only fantasy that we pronounce in French, ménage à trios. Sounds like something exotic served with red wine.
Ever since the porn industry realized that male viewers do not think three is a crowd, when the helping hand is a female one, lesbian scenes have become an adult entertainment staple. In real life, such an eventuality can never be broached given our established moral codes. Nonetheless, in private several men may have wished that the women in their lives were a little more open to experimentation.
Conventionally homosexuality is tolerated among women but not men. Most guys believe that all women are potentially bisexual. There is evidence tabled to confirm this: Women check each other out. They can help a friend fit on a bra without raising eyebrows. Only girls can have an ‘accidental’ kiss and blame it on alcohol. Only girls can gyrate suggestively with each other for the sole reason of leaving voyeuristic men hot and bothered. Stories are told of naughty girls in boarding school resorting to very creative means to wade off cold weather and boredom. A phase. Even women in a catfight will hold promise, after they start tearing at each other’s clothes.
Liberal single women who identify as heterosexual openly talk about lesbian fantasies like it is one of those experiences to chalk up before 30 so as not be considered prudish. US celebrity figures like Angelina Jolie and Britney Spears have also played a fair part in making bisexuality appear trendy.
Of course, what is conveniently forgotten is that a woman showing bisexual tendencies is not necessarily a lesbian. More like a straight girl merely trying to increase her chances of attracting a date on a Friday night. Lesbians are lesbians, because they only sexually respond to women. Unlike the bisexual posturing by some women, they do not need a man to finish them off. The lipstick lesbian stereotypes peddled by the porn industry and popular TV sit-coms are actually straight women putting on a show (read bad acting) for the straight male viewers. (Another reason why we must not take everything we see on TV literally).
Not all lesbians are strikingly beautiful. Neither are the women, ruled by insatiable appetites, never passing up a chance to get down. Somehow, it seems impossible to wrap our minds around the thought that a girl could live through life without succumbing to penile envy. Perhaps she had an abusive childhood or was turned off men by rape. The mainstream male view is that lesbians are only fixated on the same sex relationships because they have never had an encounter with Mandingo and do not know what they are missing. The downside of this is that it has become a justification for corrective rape and an excuse for sexual violence. True lesbians suffer the same bigoted stereotypes that afflict gay men especially when they are deemed ugly and overweight. That is why they are dismissed as dykes and end up in the ‘gross!’ trash can of homophobia.
Though there is documented evidence that sexual identity is a biological function, appropriate coupling is controlled by the prevalent culture. In a phallic dominated reality, women who identify as lesbians threaten traditional society’s family values. They are seen as a challenge to alpha-male dominance because they raid from the same pool. So they are framed as promiscuous villains who prey on innocent women even when it is mostly the lesbians fending off bi-curious women ( I am not a lesbian but my housemate is).
Despite these negative labels, lesbianism continues to hold a strong appeal among men because straight women understand the power of playing gay in public to draw attention. Bi sexuality maybe an abomination for men but amongst women it is entertainment. The prejudice is sustained by ignorance. The hypocritical reaction is classic. The thought of two men together is an unnatural and sick. However, two women bond by erotic passion is a yummy sandwich beckoning. This is why no man ever accuses his wife of sleeping around with other women. The only cause for contention in this case would be that he was not invited.
THE TRUTH THAT LIES TELL
by Elsie Wandera
Ladies, ladies, ladies.
who better than the ladies?
There is a big lie that parades, masquerading itself as truth....
The man...the victim,
Misguided by the stares we give,
With that sparkle in your eye when we declare our love,
....our undying love!
"There is no one else who makes me feel the way you do!" You say to him!
And he melts at the sound and thumps his chest saying, "Who's your daddy?"
The truth is....
Right now, I'm checking someone else out and,
I like that someone else,
I steal glances and begin to fantasize....its wild
I could swear that all this makes me hot and sweaty,
On this day,
The big day with the guy that I've been zoning off with is here.
So he says hello and you respond with a twinkle in your smile.
"Let's do drinks and catch up hey...Tonight even? Are you available? You know, just to catch up and what not...it's been a while."
For me, what all that means is...it's been a while since you know what; plastered with kisses; baked in lust; frying in my own liquid; the need to get it on!
"That sounds good...so I'll see you at 6.30pm say Blancos?" I say
Cool bananas!
and...so we meet.
I pour out my heart in a bid to get some assistance understanding "my man"
I make it know that the partner just ain't rocking my world no more.
"I need to find a spark, a new fire in our relationship, I need to connect on another level; Love is overrated; I'm so empty; This dude does not treat me right" I go on and on and on and all he is doing is wishing me away.
He wishes me naked; eyes locked on my bossom and can only imagine what he would be doing with that pair.
He wants to do me...I can see it in his eyes.
So I lean forward and tease with the twins!
So I think..."no, this ain't right"
Truth...I want him more
so our evening....bla bla bla
you know the drill - bills etc
He kisses me as we say our goodbyes
and shortly, it’s the back seat in the car...
...car all steamy and what not!
The shit is going down in that car!
I come out and make sure I am all straightened up
And I walk the runway like Tyra Banks
Feeling all good and what not!
Shit...some good shit right there!
...I make my way home with this impossible smirk on my face!
Only me and the devil know what's good tonight!
Then "my man" asks, "how was dinner with the girls"
I go....with the smirk on my face....FANTASTIC!...Did I tell you how much I love you?" and bla bla bla!
This is the truth; this is the lady in that skin that trots around with boldness telling the man that I love you...!
Truth....sigh!!!
Things Men Say
by Ellen Wanjiru
When a man tells AND shows you who he is-
Listen!
Do Not, I repeat, Do Not
switch gears into superwoman mode and take on the impossible responsibility of "changing" him. Instead, pack your belongings, bid him adieu and hit the ground running as if there were a million dollar prize waiting on the brighter side of the rainbow.
Think of all the time and energy we can save ourselves by paying attention and not being blinded by the good looks and dashing smiles. Men tell us who they are ALL the time by what they they do and say. Unbeknownst to them, they let off little warning signs here and there that can easily be overlooked.
What's unfortunate is that we seem to believe that "our" love and presence will be the saving grace. That's not always the case.
Not listening to the signs, more often that not, leaves the fairer sex feeling battered and bruised and wondering why he was such an asshole when he candidly explained on the third date that he is indeed an asshole and will never change.
To make it easier to spot the signs, I conducted a survey with a select group of women and asked their opinion on some of the things men say or show that we can ALL look out for....
Run really fast when he SHOWS
He's insensitive
Thrill seeking behavior (Dr. Ali Binazir*)
Selfish behavior
Devil-may-care attitude (Dr. Ali Binazir*)
Evasiveness (Dr. Ali Binazir*)
Lack of consideration
He isn't quick to put on a condom
Unwilling to compromise
Just a tad too smooth (Dr. Ali Binazir*)
*Read more from Dr. Ali Binazir @
Run even faster when he SAYS
I'm an asshole
It's hard to love me
I'm never going to change
My baby momma gets on my last nerve
My current situation is complicated
I don't have a good relationship with my mother
Women tend to leave after spending three days with me
I don't believe in God
I can't take care of you
You can leave if you want to
Are you expecting pillow talk too?
I love you, but I'm not in love with you
You think you can do better than me?
Go ahead, leave
I have bad credit but its not my fault
I don't believe in paying my taxes
WHAT ABOUT ME?
by Elsie Wandera
I think this is a great way of just keeping guys together and talking current...but I always ask this question, what about me?
You ask why? Does is sound vain at all?
Here is my POV...there is a breed that exists in the humankind and giving is their element and their everything. They give of their time and their being. They love you and they are constantly giving and never taking time to do a stock take of themselves. If they are not doing that, they feel lost and out of place. They will run into your kitchen and check on the preparations for a meal and if you need help. They will call you and text you to check up on you. They will encourage you when you feel you are at your worst etc...the list is endless of the things they do.
These people I have realized escape into the giving sphere subconsciously and yet do not realize that it is time for them to receive. That you should be on the seat, laying down with grapes and fruits being fed to you. You should be soaking in massage oils and getting a deep tissue rub down that would eventually make your blood circulation more vibrant.
So when do they ask about themselves? When they compare themselves to the world. They use the world as a measure to determine whether they are happy or deserving. That my friends is not a good place to be. They are very vulnerable when confronted by their own issues - fear of failure, rejection etc. Their I unit is GIVE and GIVE...receive is a foreign concept to them.
Let's take some time and recognize the people who are always in your face showing you love and without them you acknowledge the void. Let's ask them "What about you?"
HOW LONG SHOULD ONE WAIT TO HAVE SEX?
by Ellen Wanjiru
Tis' the age old question.
After reading Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man, I realized how truly important it is to wait before crossing the sex lines if you see a future with someone.
Shortly after reading the book, I started to really give some more thought to the process of meeting someone and waiting before jumping into bed.
I can’t speak for anyone else but I have been guilty of dating and then getting physical only to lose interest within a short period of time, or much worse, feel disappointed because the sex was just average or because my partner was unsure about his feelings but wanted to maintain the physical aspect of the relationship, which, IF I desired more, left me with the short end of the stick.
We're so often caught up in the heat of the moment that when it's all said and done and the challenge is no longer available, the moment no longer holds as much weight as it did before sex was involved.
But in the same breath, we're not always looking to be in long term relationships with everyone we bed, but for those that qualify, I think it's worth pursuing a new pattern to get different results.
So what is the appropriate waiting time? Well, according to Steve Harvey, it's 90 days but one could argue that all they need is a month or two tops.
In this case, three months gives us more than enough time to really get to know someone and vice versa. Time to figure out if waiting, among other valuable things, will be a rewarding investment or NOT. The same concept applies to new hires before receiving benefits. We all know that companies don't just give out benefits, we have to put in the work for a certain amount of time and prove ourselves.
It is within that 90 day grace period that we get to form solid friendships and foundations with the people in our lives and should it not work out, perhaps these same individuals can remain friends instead of distant memories or enemies.
“I NEVER MENTIONED TO YOU ABOUT CELIA...MY FIANCE"
(A story about guarding your heart)
by Elsie Wandera
It felt so warm as it slid down my cheeks
The pain that ran through every part of my body was alive
I do remember what got me here
Certainly thinking about the warmth of the moments
I felt vulnerable in your hands; your words reassured my pouncing heart
The world did not exist; it was just you and I
Your firm hands that covered my form was comforting yet exciting
If there was one time I was unable to swallow it was then
As my mind tried to construct the perfect words to describe the moment
I was frozen in that time capsule…
Everything stopped and motion ceased...all that was moving, and fast, was my heart
The pace of a jaguar on adrenaline plus was my heart literally
Your eyes delve deep into mine and the spin like the whirlwind in the desert
A journey that translates itself to more than what I’d ever known or felt
And then you said it…
“This isn’t working,”
The goose bumps rose all over my body and a chill so cold down my spine
“But what…?” I asked,
“I never mentioned to you about Celia…my fiancé,” he said while turning his face away
And then I swallowed hard…”Why didn’t you ever mention this to me?”
And the best he could do was it all happened so fast and that he did not want to lose me…six months later….come on!
And that is when I felt a tingle in my eye and then the tear just slid down my cheek and the pain was so alive mostly in my heart…I felt like I could remove it and make this feeling go away…but I couldn’t, it was with me for a long time.
Whatever brought us to this point was a lie and all lies
I cannot remember when my heart felt what I felt
The ease of letting you into my life was my biggest lesson
It is what it is…to turn back the hand of time is impossible
I want to take back all that I feel for you…but what I felt for you was real
I am a real person with real feelings
What God gave me to give can sometimes be abused
I am a wonderful person, hard to let go of and easy to fall for…
My heart though is guarded by grids of vigilance from the likes of you
I may not see what you are made of right away…but it will come to light soon
Guard your hearts people…guard it with your life.
