I’m Not the Only One

I’m sitting here on a warm, bipolar night (mother nature is in one of her moods) wearing a collegiate hoodie, loose men size pajama pants, and wiggling my toes in a pair of very comfortable footies (the ones where the BIG toe peeps through the hole like a … I was truly going to be a pervert). Haha!

So, I do my usual before drifting off into the dreamland of single female “losers and rejects” … Listen to a stream of mellow tunes (Ed Sheeran, Adele, Anthony Hamilton, John Legend, Sam Smith … just to name a few) scroll down my 7,000 (yeah, I need to do a massive purge) emails, or lay in bed in the dark hoping the man in my head would touch me or just breathe on me. Hell, I would be happy with a tap on the shoulder. Where’s Casper (the friendly ghost) when you need him? I digress … 👻

So, as I open my email from Groupon and look around at their “I can’t believe this shit” deals, I discover an advert for vibrators. Not just the 3 inch “teasers,” but the “I’m going to get you sucka” waterproof panel controlled pleasure seeker. And, to my surprise they were all SOLD OUT with more than 10,000 sold to some very sexually deprived women (or men) or the experimental few. 🔋🍆💦

These same women (or men) obviously aren’t being properly pleasured by their husbands, fiancés, boyfriends, side pieces, or friend(s) with benefits. And, many could be single. Ha! I’m not alone! I’m not the only one! I’m literally doing the happy dance right now.

Thank you Universe for showing me that I don’t have to walk this path all by my lonesome. There are more than 10,000+ women (or men) out there who feel the same as I do… Sexless and Single. Raise your vibrators ladies (and lads), we rule the mofo world. Make sure you have them turned off before pointing them to the heavens. God doesn’t like ugly.

*I am in no way affiliated with the said vibrator or Groupon. Hell, I’m mad because I’m not one of the 10,000.

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Happy 1 Month Bloggerversay to Me!

IMG_1449.JPGI accomplished a goal this year … I wrote it down and made it happen. Regardless of where I may stand in the blogging world (being that I am new and an unknown blogger), I am ecstatic and full of joy. During my “one woman show” here on WordPress, I unearthed a stream of wisdom (experiences from past relationships and encounters) and created a few real-life sagas (displaying a slight comedic flair). I am most proud of one of my biggest accomplishments … Blogging from the heart.

You can do anything you desire to do! You can fly with the eagles … You can travel around the globe … You can love without fear! Carpe Diem!

I would like to sincerely thank those who have taken time out of their lives to visit my little community. It is still a work in progress. It’s a sense of relief for me … it’s like therapy.

Exciting things to come for 2015! I shall take this divine gift to unknown heights. This is only the beginning with no room for the end. Feel free to join the Dateless in Carolina family!  Like! Follow! Subscribe! Comment! Send a Sista on a Blind Date!

 

Yes My Dear, Women Fart Too

You may want to wear a gas mask while reading this post. I’m sure near the end you will smell a rather peculiar scent. Have you ever wondered how the hell a human can release such lethal toxins (into the air) from that miniscule hole between the cheeks of the buttock? I mean, that force of funk causes vibrations, sharp pains, burning sensations, unbecoming tunes, strange facial expressions, and smells that would clear a few rooms. Contrary to popular belief, the human fart is the best defense mechanism (against bratty children, obnoxious in-laws, nosey co-workers, and frenemies).

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A female fart is like no other bodily function. It’s like a “rumble in the Bronx” … It’s like a roar from a cowardly lion. Some men think women don’t “toot the horn” or “blast butt music.” Fellas, we can’t hold it in … we would explode only to be broken down into little women (with silent and deadly butt bombs).

Some women are too embarrassed or too ashamed to “let the gas out” … especially in the presence of their significant other. Honey, you better “rip the runway!” He’ll probably love you more … then again, he may leave your “stank” ass. Ha! Ha! Ladies, it’s natural and it’s okay to “poot.” It becomes a problem when you don’t. I mean the stench could exude through your pores (who wants to walk around smelling like day old gym socks or a loaded burrito that’s been sitting in your stomach for weeks). That daring and brave (I might add) “poot” could sneak out and leave a lingering odor (all eyes would be on you).

Yes my dear … Women fart too. Who are you going to call? Fart Busters? Let Go and Let Flow!

 

 

Dateless in Carolina: Bloggerivews Page NOW OPEN

Bloggerviews: Where I conduct interviews with men and women to discuss their experiences with past/present/future relationships, their dating adventures, their sex or sexless life, etc. Get ready for candid conversations and much-needed life lessons.

Click the Dateless in Carolina: Bloggerview page tab. Read and Scroll. Read and Scroll some more. Delve into the minds of other singles and couples. You may be rewarded with words of wisdom. Knowledge derives from the many formalites of life.

Make yourself at home. Put on a comfortable pair of pajamas, Play a little jazz to set the mood, Grab a glass (a bottle is recommended) of your favorite wine, Sit back, and Relax.

I Love You Jordan Knight

This morning I had the pleasure of revisiting my childhood crush through music. It’s true, music can send trembles through your body and cause a reminiscent rush of adolescent hormones. I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard his voice call me (well, not exactly) … his voice touched me though … it felt like a personal serenade. I literally hopped out of bed, grabbed the nearest hair brush, stood in front of my elongated mirror, and proceeded to sing a duet with Jordan Knight to one of the hottest songs of the late 80’s …. “I’ll Be Loving You Forever” by one of the most successful boy bands of all time … New Kids on the Mother Freaking Block. Ok, I can’t contain myself now, my inner preteen has been channeled …. SCREAMING!!! I must take you down memory lane.

 

I was 12 years old when I had my first ever boy band crush. I remember like it was yesterday (more like, last night in my dreams). I turned on my 13 inch color tube TV (had to use an antenna with foil on the ends) and there he was … the boy of my every daydream. The band of all boy bands had hit the scene all crispy and clean … New Kids on the Block and I was in love with Jordan Knight. I knew he was the one the moment I laid eyes on him. I wanted to marry him and be his Chewy Caramel Creme Sundae (without the nuts). We were going to live in Boston, MA with Joey McIntyre and my cousin Tiffany. We were going to have 10 kids … Jordan Jr., Jordan III, Jordan IV, Jordan V, Jorden, Jordache, Jordania, Jordana, Jordena, and Jorgena. And, live in a mansion with 2 dogs, a parrot, and a pet monkey. I had already picked out my wedding dress, our first song, and had the venue on speed dial.

I had all of the New Kids on the Block paraphernalia (posters, pins, stickers, a sleeping bag, phone, dolls, bags, books, cups, t-shirts, etc) including all of the teeny bopper magazines where they graced the cover. I even used to kiss Jordan’s poster (had him plastered on the wall in the center above my head board) at night before bed (and there were times he slept beside me). Can you say, OBSESSED CHOCOLATE GIRL?!?

When I saw this video for the first time, I almost passed out in the middle of the living room. I was officially a crazed and kooky fan. He was the first guy to ever (and still is …well, besides Adam Levine, Channing Tatum, and Morris Chestnut who are my present day heart-throbs ) to make me go ape shit every time I heard his voice or saw his face on the television screen. I STILL LOVE YOU JORDAN!! SCREAMS!!

I remember going to one of their concerts in Greenville, SC with my dad. We sat thousands of yards away, but when Jordan waved at the crowd on the left I knew it was meant for only me. Sigh … my 30 something year old self returns.

He’s still my future husband even as I continue to age oh so gracefully … I’m legal now Jordan, call me (803) HOT-FORU.

Say What Now

“Wait, run that by me again … you’ve never had an orgasm?” It is definitely a fact. Many women over the age of thirty never experienced the “orgasmic flow” … the “va-jay-jay that runneth over” … the “climactic rush” … the “pressure releaser” … the “spew of sweet nectar” … the “tears of the womb.”

Sorry fellas, some women have been faking the Big “O” (for quite some time) with eyes rolls (and you thought it was because you caused an orgasmic exorcism), with spasmodic –like episodes (and you thought you laid “it” down), and with a loud obnoxious moan (almost deafening). It was all just a show … a-not-so celebratory experience for her, but more of an explosion for him. Faking the Big “O” can be exhausting especially if the woman is not emotionally or mentally connected to her partner. For a small majority of women, an “orgasmic eruption” comes quite natural during intercourse or any other sexually generated act (damn, she was blessed with a golden glitter box).

Faking an orgasm comes natural for the other half of the female population. It’s like auditioning to play the role of the leading lady in a short film (“He Always Get His And I Never Get Mine”). Lights, Camera, Action! You lay there, he pulls it out … he climbs on top of you (wearing nothing but white socks) … he puts it in the wrong hole … you give him the “I know the hell you didn’t just try that shit” look … he struggles for a moment then finds the right hole … you moan and you groan … he huffs and he puffs … he whispers, “Do you like it?” … you lie, “Yes, now give it to me big daddy” … he goes faster, you scream his name (shouting every syllable) … he starts to perspire like he’s an olympian about to reach the finish line … you roll your eyes (hoping this shit is about to end) … he growls, he moans … he shakes, he rattles, and then he rolls over … you look at the clock hoping your telekinetic sense will move time backwards (you want ten minutes of your life back) … the END.

It is very pertinent that a woman knows her body, loves her body, and embraces the body she owns. Men must learn every inch of a woman’s body (Anatomy 101 is a great start). Know her turn-ons … her turn-offs (not just in a sexual sense). Mentally stimulate her with words of affection and declaration … more like a mental massage (could easily make her feen for your loving).

The Big “O” will be an even greater experience if both participants learn each other (e.g. his/her touch, his/her smell, his/her walk, and his/her vocal range during certain activities). It’s ok to think outside the bedroom … try something new, try something bold … be a rebel without a cause (just don’t get your ass arrested). Most importantly, experience the wild and crazy things  shit together.

Before I sound off, fellas, make her give dap (a fist pump) to the Lord himself (feed her mind, body, and soul). She will thank you and thank the Lord for blessing her with a modern-day superman (a man with telepathic and super-orgasmic powers).

Let’s Free the Flow!

Know Your Worth

There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t hear a woman complaining about her non-committal situation with a man (and sometimes with another woman). I’ve been there and often traveled down that non-committal road of temporary sexual satisfaction (mostly from him), frustration (not knowing where the “situationship” was going), anger (mostly because he didn’t text or call like he said he would), confusion (a part of me wanted to end it, but I didn’t want to be alone), trust issues (questioning his every move), blindness (purposefully ignoring the red flags or jumping over the roadblocks), and looking for love (looking for what I didn’t propose to myself).

I’m not feeding you any bull shit or trying to come off as a wailing bitch because “one man hurt me.” I speak from experience. I still don’t know it all, but my life experiences have taught me to be more on guard. I can honestly say, I stand as a woman who loves and appreciates herself.

If that complementary man was to fall from the sky and land on my doorstep (wishful thinking), I would be willing to share that love with him (never giving all of me … saving just enough for myself).

We often place ourselves in situations then blame the disastrous outcome on the other party. It’s not just the men … ladies, you play a major role in every sequel. Knowing your worth as a woman will open doors (not bedroom doors, but car doors, restaurant doors, museum doors … you get the picture). A woman’s worth is like a rare pearl just extracted from the shell of a mollusk … it is invaluable … it’s indissoluble … it’s the closest thing to the soul of a woman. A woman’s worth combined with a man’s courage may cause an out of body (or out of reality) experience.

Be a woman of stature! Know your worth!