Big Mama and dem

I thought I was really ready to make that final step.  I thought that I was really about to cross the line, that point of no return.  I ordered the damn papers for crying out loud.  I mean, I spent $50 damn dollars for the do-it-yourself divorce kit.

The package comes, everything I neeed plus 91 days is at my finger tips and the thought of filling out the papers makes me want to throw up.  I open the package and read the stuff, it’s not foreign to me, I’ve been here before.  But this time I can’t do it.  The thought of thinking about it, putting it in black and white and really making it final.   No longer talking shit about it, but backing my shit up!!!  I CAN’T FUCKING DO IT.

This would be marriage number two down the fucking drain.  And I don’t want to follow in my mama’s foot steps.  Whom by the way is total in support and on board for helping me fill out the papers, because she is a VET at the shit.  On divorce number four and not afraid to give it another go round if the idiotic fella steps up to the plate!

I don’t want to have another divorce.  So I’m perplexed on what I’m doing here.  We have some serious issues, and we are miles apart.  So how and the hell can we do this with out getting a divorce.

One thing that HE says is what’s my rush?  My rush is that I hate for shit to be in  limbo.  In my mind, I think I’d rather it be over now, and then if we can come together later, work on us and figure some stuff out, the we can get back together later.  But that’s not gonna happen.  His culture is very different than mine.  He comes from if you’re done, you’re done.  No part two, no to be continued, NADA… You end it, that’s it. 

When I’m mad, I could care less about his damn culture, but I really do care about the fucker!  I’m trying to figure out how and why Big Mama and dem handle marriage and commitment.  Granted a lot of them didn’t work and have their own, and depended on the worthless as men we know as grandfathers for survival.  But regardless, how bad granddaddy was, grandma was ridin’ for her dude. 

My aunties told me stories of my grandma packing up the kids and going to stake out granddaddy at his play things house.  I am like for real.  Women was hoo-ridin’ back then? 

But every damn Sunday they went to church as a family.  He might have creeped and drank up the whole damn liquor bar, but he held it down.  And Grandma knew what was up, but she held it down.

And truth be told.  Grandma did a little creepin on her own too.  Don’t be no fool.  But which way is right?

Get divorced and divorced until you pick the right one.  Or you be a ride or die chic, know he’s a scum bag, and have your own dirt on the side?

I’m confused. 

The other thing I’ve seen and had expressed to me, is that All things are Possible with Christ Jesus.  He can change both of us so that we can come together, how we did at that alter and took those vows. 

I’m like hmmmm…. Damn Big Mama and dem…  I gotta shake this cat.  Truly sad I don’t have what they had, but I’ll be damned if I take this shit!  Somethings gotta give!!!

Naughty and Torn

Last night I went to the strip club.  Now I’m a porn watcher and have been known to be curious about what goes down in a strip club.  So I went to one for the first time last night.  Now, I’ve had a stripper at my bachelorette party, but being surrounded by men and women strippers is just something else.  It just doesn’t come close to a personal stripper in the privacy in ones home.

So I am there.  Completely over dressed, in my brown slacks and a bell sleeved blouse.  And I feel completely out of place.  But after three hours of drinking rum, chased with beer, I got over that shyt.  I’m sitting and observing, sometimes dancing, but mostly observing and I’m stunned by a couple things.  First, we were trying to figure out if the couple in the back in the corner were two lesbians or a dude and his girl.  Then, we were trying to figure out why dudes would accompany their ladies to the “male” strip club.  Third, I was trying to figure out why this dude allowed his girl, to come out to the club in a ultra mini, with her ass cheeks hanging out.  And then, why she was on the dance floor, pulling up her skirt and showing her pink lace thongs all night.

Then, the strippers come out.  (this is why there were men there!) The first chic stripper was a woman.  She was too damn skinny, and in desperate need of a two piece and a biscuit.  She was tall and pretty and had nice long legs, but if I was a dude,  I wouldn’t spend a damn dime on her.  She didn’t take anything off, so I was ok with her performance. 

Then this dude came out.  Miami something or anything.  he was cute.  Came out in his egypt mask and costume, and he did his thing.  Worked the pole and everything.  What I did not realize was that these men, grab a lady from the audience, or in some cases, a lady volunteers herself, and the man mimicks all kinds of sexual madness with them.  From eating their couchies, to tossing and turning them into every which position, to pretending like they are going to put their dicks in their mouth!  I’m like SSSSSSSShhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeettttttt!!!!!

So there’s a brief pause and then the lap dances begin.  The chics that I was with paid and persuaded the dude to come over to me and dance for me.  Taken all off guard, and not wanting to be a prude, I lost my mind for a brief moment.  I touched and rubbed on his chest and the lower regions, and was completely in the moment, and then I snapped out of it and checked myself.

Then the next stripper came out.  It was another woman.  One of the women, who’d been sitting in the audience w/another woman, as if she was a patron.  NOT A STRIPPER.  And apparently, the woman she was sitting with must of been her lady, cause she was a total different person when her “homegirl” was on stage.    But anyway, this stripper was ok.  She was thicker than the first chic.  And she got naked!  So of course her tips were bigger and better.  Dudes and females were all over this chic.  Even the DJ’s were making it rain???  Oh Lawd!

So the last stripper dude comes out.  And he’s tall, and hung like no other.  This mickey fickey had it going on.  And he got pretty much naked.  I never thought that jibby slings existed, but they do… This dude had one on that made it appear he didn’t have one on.  I couldn’t believe it.  But at this point it’s like 2:30 in the morning, and I’m ready to go home and play with myself and take my ass to sleep.

But not before, my girls at the table inform me that one of my girls just got her va-jay-jay eaten out, by home dude that was with the girl with the ultra mini on.  Que???  Que???  I’m stunned.  THEN, they tell me that there’s a dude behind the curtain, sitting next to the people who are getting it on, beating his meat!!!!  Que???  For serious????

Ok, so I’ve heard it, but now I need to see it.  So sure nuff, as I’m walking out, there’s two people on this couch behind the curtain, doing “stuff” and there’s a white dude with his jibby in his hand, dazed and confused…

Oh Lawd!

I’m torn because I was so turned on by some stuff.  And totally embarassed by some other stuff.  Like is this what is going on in the streets.  This is exactly why God gave me the body that he did.  And the reason why I stay broke, have two kids that I’m solely responsible for, and have lived in the slowest state for all kinds of industries. 

I am glad that this was my first experience.  But I feel like such a hypocrite.  One minute I’m appalled by women who act an azz and do rediculous things for people like plies, flavor flav and the cute ass white boy, Bret Michaels.

I’m torn because even though, I don’t carry myself like this, I am condoning the mess and contributing to it.  Oh well, what’s done is done, and I had a fucking blast but I really need to check myself and my thoughts. 

Bottom line, It was  a great night out.  Much needed stress reliever.  And great footage for my masterbating moments!  What?  E’ry body cums shyt!  And…

I Made My Decision

After 8 months of being separated.  3 month of being on again and off again, I’ve decided that I’m going to get a divorce.  We recently had one last talk about our expectations and it just didn’t go well, to say the least.

I don’t know why it took me this long to get fed up.  To realize that I don’t deserve to be talked to like a child.  Or how I don’t deserve to come last after all his family and friends.  Or how there was never any love there.

Love takes work, but should it really take that much work?  There were times that I was happy, but over all the last four years have been really hectic for me. 

So I’m slowly working on me.  I’m really trying to get to a point where all of my surroundings are positive and complementing me. 

It was hard for me to make that final decision though.  Even though things were messed up, I still know this person intimately.  I’ve dealt with and known nothing else for almost five years.  I realized awhile ago that even though we didn’t agree on a lot of things, he was my comfort zone and I didn’t want to give that up.

I was so hopeful.  I thought that circumstances would change, once he got a job, once he had his money, once he got out of the house and got some friends and started doing things instead of sitting in the house and being bored and depressed.  But this new circumstance, brought about different circumstances.  Like contribution to family bills or the lack thereof, and contribution to the kids, to the romance and intimate department and so on and so forth.

I know this is the case for most women, we have faith.  We hold onto something for so long because we are hopeful that they are going to change.  We place the ball in their court and hope that they will make the right decision.  When in turn we are the ones who need to make the decisions.  We have a say in our destiny.

Someone shared something in a book and mentioned something about the need to be right.  I think that I’ve given up that need to be right.  The need to point out all that I feel he’s done wrong and I’ve just plum given up.

 Trust and communication is so key.  And if you don’t have that, on top of romance and money, MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnn, you all kind of fucked up…

So I decided that I give up.  I’m truly tired of being tired.  Truly deserve better.  In 91 days, I will be living single…