Virulent Vagina

Freakables & Geekables,


How goes it? Staying in touch with the freak in you I hope!... and the geek too 8-)


I am aware that the production of this blog may be regarded as a self defeating/destructive entity for couple  reasons:


     1.  Future employment - a blog about sex and getting freaky isn't necessarily a resume builder, especially when the sex industry is not on the horizon.

And sometimes even more daunting than that is:

     2.  The possibility of a significant/insignificant other/s discovering this blog on the top sites of my Mac and going apeshit upon recognizing the body parts in the banner, then escalating to ballistic when he figures out which story is about him.

But I have to say that I need to do this. Sex is an important part of life.... My life, any way. It's not the most important, but in a "romantic" relationship it is important. Whether or not you are "doing it" (it being the whole or the individual parts of sex) or not is important because your reasons/desires/motivations for doing or not doing so are sometimes simple, but more often than not are complex, layered, and mired with emotion.

So anyways, recently I had to take to twitter to ask a question. A question that could only come to mind after personally swimming in Lake Experience, located in WhereIam, USA. The question:

This is a very serious question.

Men call it blue balls - an annoying feeling, a pressure. A major discomfort for many who, when aroused to the point of erection with no where to release, may feel like their testicles will explode if they do not ejaculate somewhere. 

Well, this isn't so hard to understand once you learn that ejaculate can exit the man's body at an AVERAGE speed of 45 km/h (27.96 mi/h).  Average... meaning that the possibility remains his ejaculate could exit with Evil Knievel/ ambitions in "mind". Physics was never my forte, but it is for Dr John Marshall, Ph.D. Sexual Physics. 

So if my memory serves me correctly (and it may not), potential like that could lead to immense build up a.k.a pressure & that ball busting feeling.

But... what about women. Our potential children do not exit from our vaginas doing tricks and acrobatics. There is that phenom of squirting, but that has nothing on the speed and force of male ejaculate nor its likeness to the blade of Zorro's sword.

I speak to & from my own experience when I say that the female equivalent to blue balls is the virulent vagina. A vagina full of malice. A vagina that, angered enough, will kick you out of the house but ass naked and later send your clothes by snail mail. Ok maybe that's an exaggeration, but life has taught me that if I can think it, it has already happened.


Seriously, has no one else experienced the reverberating uterine angst of a disappointed vagina? A feeling like an olympic gold medalist miscalculated a shotput throw and the damn thing landed smack dab in the middle of your pelvic area? And once it landed proceeded to burrow its way into your uterus, daring you to not find a way to expel it? . . . No one?... Well ME NEITHER! psssht. 


 --   --
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That is what Virulent Vagina feels like... to me anyway. I imagine that if my vagina could speak during a gut wrenching episode, it would simply lament, "WHHHHYYYYYYYYY??" Virulent vagina is experienced if, like men, we are aroused to THE point... and then... left hanging... like christmas decorations all. year. round.


Any sexual partner that will leave you assed out (literally) in this sexual paint with no guilt, remorse, or empathy for your situation should be dropped. You be Diddy, let him/her be the band & send that ass to brooklyn for some cheesecake and tell em stay... amongst other things! Once is ok. Twice alright. Everybody can't be at optimum performance all the time. 


If you are in a serious relationship this shouldn't apply to you. If it does, you need to reevaluate. If you are in a casual relationship then rest assured there's another fish in the sea that gives a damn as to whether or not you are satisfied.


Because this is where the virulence comes in... the thought that a person could be so inhumane as to leave you stranded with merely a life vest in shark infested waters; to make you a part of the cast of LOST without your knowledge!


Some people will say I am giving too much weight to sex in a relationship, but ultimately the sexual stratosphere is but a reflection and projection of the character of a person. So if they are selfish in sex, chances are they are selfish in other aspects outside the >insert wherever you like to have sex here<.


In his/her defense, said person may be unaware of how their actions come off or affect partners so it would be beneficial for both parties involved to have this discussion. If he/she is aware however... GET YOUR ASS UP & OUT OF THEIR SELFSERVING PAINT!

Boy Please! I'd Buy you for a Penny

What up Freakz & Geekz?

I hope you all have been keeping it freaky while I've been away! I'll do a separate post on why I've been away later, but THIS I felt compelled to write about.


Not too long ago I was having a discussion with a friend that somehow led to me asking whether or not he had ever been "in love," to which he responded that the only relationship he could possibly say he was in love was one that took place between a 15 year old him, and a 23 year old woman. I won't allow you anytime to react here, because I think upon hearing that I reacted amply for you and I, and any other person who has wandered upon this blog in all its undiscovered glory.


He went on to mention that of course the relationship was sexual in nature, and while that is not where he learned everything, she did teach him alot.


Did I mention how disturbed I was by his story? Actually I surprised myself how upset I was about it. I surprised myself because this motherly protective part of me came out. I surprised myself because as the emotion was boiling in my blood it felt like something only a mother should feel or understand.


I was also surprised because I reacted like a prude? (that question mark was not a typo... read on before you judge) I did not react like someone, who at the age of 14, was involved with a man 6 years her senior. A man who I was in love with, care about to this day, and in many ways is for me the one who may have got away. 


Before you have a misguided AHA moment as to why I enjoy and like to talk about sex so much, please put down the Oprah. Let me be clear (<--Obama voice) that I did not have sexual relations with this man (<--- Clinton voice) until I felt comfortable. There was no pressure! And since there could be a serious level  of pathetic in me saying that it's up there as one of the healthier, more nurturing relationships I've ever been in... I just won't say that.


But back to my buddy old pal, who has a pre-teen son and an almost teen daughter. Ohh wait... there's a knock at my door... Guess, who just showed up? This uninvited bitch ass... Mr. Double Standard! Can you see how the convo went down hill after this sucker showed up? Sigh... let's just say when He showed up I went and got my big girl gloves to knock his ass out. And I also made sure to prepare a glass of adult tea so that at the appropriate moment I'd take a sip with my pinky in the air when my friend and I could agree to disagree. 


So... when I asked him about the 15 yr old/23 yr old situation playing out with his daughter and some 23 yr old dude, he almost went ape sh!t about snatching his daughter and ending up in jail over what he would do to the dude. Awww... daddy's little girl. I respect that. It wouldn't hurt if more fathers would show up for the job like he does.


But when I asked him about the 15/23 situation playing out with his son, Double Standard hijacked the convo... and can I just say that Mr. Double Standard is like that weeble toy... or better yet a crackhead... Yes, Mr. DS is a crackhead! No matter how you try you can never knock his ass out... He wobbles, but the son of a bitch just won't fall down. 


So friend's first response is that first he'd be happy to find out that his son is not gay.  --_-- . Secondly, what can he say? He's 15, and it's probably better that he's sexually active with a 23 year old who is more likely to be responsible than "these [fresh] little girls" running around sexing everything and everyone. "These kids are having sex anyway."


Guys.... Can we even begin to address the plentiful issues in the above paragraph? Well let me narrow your focus. We aren't going to address the homophobia (today), you and I believe what we believe, and so does he. I'm pro-gay rights, he's not. It's like a tea partier and a liberal in a room (bad joke waiting to happen)... We can all get along, can't we?


[Deep Breath] He sparked me with the homosexual remark and then doused me in gasoline with the rest of his commentary. So much so that I took to my BB messenger list to conduct an impromptu survey of the men on my list. And while some surprised me by not falling victim to the jerk Mr. DS, others still caused me to question:

• Why is it that in the 21st Century, we cannot discern that perpetuating stereotypes of sexually aggressive men onto our boys contribute to the destruction of their innocence? As a black woman, I could argue that slavery and the consequent disadvantage being "black" has placed on us has done this. This being the inability to separate sexual power and prowess from the black man's ability to identify/define himself as a man. But then... isn't that all men? That would be a cop out, wouldn't it? Because double standards exist, their existence does not mean that we are obligated to honor them. 
• Why is the innocence of a boy valued less than that of the girl when it comes to sex? Or is it not a matter of valuing a boy's innocence less, but a matter of a girl's sexuality not being her own, and being somehow wrapped up in a father's identity as a man/protector? 
• Why is it that this situation with a 15 year old girl is quickly identified as rape but celebrated as an accomplishment for a 15 year old boy? Regardless of sex, race, class or creed a 15 year old is a CHILD, no? There is a certain level of helplessness that goes along with being a child. Why does that not apply to our boys? It's an issue I would not hesitate to drop in the box where Jim Crow and Apartheid now reside.
• I am not naive, I know that children are having sex. I also know that hormone raging teenagers can act most salaciously when/if left to their own devices. I am not a parent so I can only imagine the cold sweats and palpitations that the mere thought of having the sex talk with one's child induces. And because I am not a parent I guess I cannot determine where I draw the line and place all the responsibility on my non existent boy child (I know it's redundant but it's the bajan in me that says boy child rolls off the ears more smoothly) to determine himself a man by the sexual solicitation of a grown woman, cosigned by the men in his life who he regards as role models. But as a 24 year old woman, I cannot see how at my age, with what I have and have not accomplished, learned or matured into, finding myself involved with a 15/16 year old boy. Hell, it's hard enough for me to see myself with men my age. How do you justify that relationship as an adult?
• With the recent light being shone so brightly on sexual abuse in this country and elsewhere, the situation also makes me wonder how this dynamic between us as a community and our boys actually provide a safe haven for boys being abused to come forward? How do you approach the man you emulate and idolize about something that may not feel right to you, but is not condemned or is encouraged by him?
• How/What about the power struggle of the cultural psyche - to have a man be a victim at the hands of a woman sexually? 
• Is fifteen that critical age? Just before 16... the cusp of the cusp of cusp of manhood? Is that the age where parents give their boys condoms along with the talk?

I understand that some of these questions do apply to my situation, and by implicating my friend's lover, I am implicating mine. Quite honestly, the discussion gave me a whole new perspective on my situation - what it must have been like for my lover. It forced me to look at my Caribbean culture as a perpetuator of this ignorance by sitting in silence as an entity, and as individuals. 


I'm not judging my friend as a parent, as a father. He loves his children. But it did get me to thinking about parenthood and how far outside ourselves it forces us to reach - that even though this is what, and sometimes all, we know, there must be better, and better is what we [should] desire for our children.


Double standards are yet to adequately protect lives. I don't care what you argue. The greatest crimes and atrocities ever committed were due to double standards which, let's not be shy about it, are the offspring of superiority complexes and hate.


So to my non-existent children, half of each of you in my testy & dramatic ovaries, the other half of you roaming around in some worthy man's nut sac, I just want you to know that I value you. Your innocence and humanity is worth more to me than a penny. I will protect you and empower you with knowledge so that when that bastard DS comes knocking you won't have to fight him, he'll look at you and already know that he has no business where you are. And if by chance push comes to shove you still know how to knock his ass out. I will teach you, so that your power is always yours - not to be wielded against another but to uplift.


*Get Geeked*


P.S. This is not the usual F&G post but it is something that I believe needs to be thought about. I'm not a parent, maybe you are... or you aren't. What do you think? Leave your feedback.

Date Chronicles: Disaster Young'n

Disclaimer: The Date Chronicles Series is inspired by real events experienced by the author or someone else. Names have been changed to protect the identities of the parties involved. 

Enter: Disaster Young'n

The youngster (early 20's) artistic, ambitious, and FLYer than <<<<<

Sigh. Besides all his tuba blowing (as opposed to horn tooting) he held no doors, pulled no chairs, was significantly involved with his IPhone4 and reflective surfaces, and somehow couldn't get the convo past "Oh my God you are so gorgeous."

I'm not complaining, and I know some of you think that's something you want to hear all night on a first date but it's actually kind of annoying. Especially when efforts to take conversation beyond ego strokes and name dropping some how end up back at square 1.

Actually... the date didn't go all that bad. After dinner he surprised me with a kiss preceded by "I've been wanting to do this all night."... Anyways... horrible timing... I had just freshened up with an HD pink lip gloss that had lots of grown up glitter in it... the really small kind that is only visible when light hits it. Ladies know what I mean. (hehehehehehe) This is definitely where things got obviously hilarious. Once I let him know that he had some gloss on him that was going nowhere, this is where the EGO reared its ugly head and introduced itself to me, like an alternate personality, with the infamous Self absorbed freakout. What is the Self absorbed freakout? Well grandma would call it a clear indication of someone who is "sweet on himself." And Young'n did not disappoint!!!


His SAF looked like this: a frantic race from reflective surface to reflective surface, (car windows, store front displays, restaurant windows, and of course the snazzy IPhone4) frenzied wiping with a napkin that appeared from nowhere, and repeated probing, "Is it gone yet? I'm a dude... I can't walk around with this shit on my face! Is it gone?" 

If the hysterical laughter that my inside voice was engaging in at that moment could have been heard by the world, it would resemble something that only a hybrid specimen of Steve Harvey, Dane Cook, Katt Williams, Richard Pryor, Kevin Hart and Rob Stapleton could instigate. Who does this? For 3 long NYC blocks this is what you're gonna do? SO I laughed... but enough to keep his fragile and still developing male ego in "light and love". 

We then ended up under a bridge connecting Brooklyn to NY. Where the trains raced by over head but somehow did not take away from the romantic quotient of the little nook of peace in a bustling city. It was beautiful. A clear night sky, great weather, water breaking on the shore, citylights reflecting off the water... I was impressed! And somehow I forgot the glitter fiasco. That was until the convo led to past relationships and eventually sex...


Then he said, "You know, I don't mean to brag, but I'm really good in bed" (x_x) and took my hand, placed it on his crotch, and said "see, that's at least 9 inches of good luvin. I'm telling you, I'm hung. Feel it!" 


On the one hand the freak in me respected his directness, but also prevented me from believing any more of the tuba blowing. On the other hand the geek in me was quite disturbed and gave him the wtf-are-u-doing-right-now?" look.


I didn't run though. I went on with the date and we spontaneously ended up at a performance of Jojo Mayer (awesome music btw).


We rode the train home. And it didn't take me the entire ride to know that he was definitely not for me.... Ginormous penis and all.