LWC or the Little White Cock

I have a theory. Trump and all his supporters are CLEARLY, IRREFUTABLY insane. No question about it, period, the end. Their insanity is accepted as the norm and the media and society as a whole dismisses, ignores, rationalizes and debates their talking points as if they have actual validity, as if they are worthy of consideration as valid. What if . . . their mental instability is a result of them all being deficient anatomically, or more accurately, they are mentally ill because they have anger, frustration, jealousy and envy for anyone who threatens their perceived manhood and power because they measure less than average below the belt. 

Wait, follow me here. Let's suppose that the individuals who are the most virulent racists, the ones who feel the most emasculated by powerful women, the ones who are so desperate to go back to the good old days when niggers knew their place and women stayed at home are the ones who are the most frustrated by their lack of manhood. I think it's very reasonable to assume that because they feel so lacking in the genital department their psyches have compensated with their rampant xenophobia, racism, bigotry, and sexism that has gone unchecked in this country for centuries.

It makes sense if you think about it. Society equates manhood with dick size. The smaller their junk, the more power hungry they are in an effort to compensate for how inadequate they feel as "real men". The more delusional they are, the more limp their equipment is. The individuals who have made policy in this country since its inception are the one who have had the least impressive Popsicle sticks. The women who support Trump are the women who have been left frustrated by their spouses inferior equipment. If they've never had a thorough sexing in their lives, if the most they've ever had is a woefully inadequate 30 second hump, that would make any woman crazy. Certifiably so.

My theory might seem fringe to a sexually repressed society but let's take a look at the men who are conducting the Republican crazy train. Trump, Guliani, David Duke . . . does anyone believe for a fraction of a second that they have more than three or four inches below the belt? It's not that much of a leap to think that the individuals who support Trump are similarly handicapped. They hate Obama because they think he has a big black dick. They hate Hillary because they think she is trying to cut their nuts off. And the rest of sane society is left to integrate their insanity into our lives as the norm.

Just think about it.

Yes, You Do Have a Right to . . .

(Young, twenty and thirty something women won’t read this, they will reject it immediately.  It is my prayer that mothers and fathers of young girls and boys will read this.  It is my hope that parents of young girls and boys will grasp my intent and teach their children about the consent and rape from a more enlightened perspective.)

As a car owner, you have a right to leave your car running with the keys in the ignition, the doors unlocked and wide open, in the middle of a huge mall parking lot while you run in to grab a few items.  It’s your right.  It’s your car.  You bought it and paid for it and it’s yours to do with what you want.  You worked hard for that car and if you feel like you don’t want to have to turn the ignition off and on, and if you feel like you should be able to leave the keys in the ignition and unlocked simply because your name is on the title and it belongs to you, yes, you have that right.    If you did that, you would be clowned as the biggest, most delusional idiot to walk the face of the earth though.  The story of your stupidity would go viral around the world and you would break the internet.    Twitter would create a hashtag just for you. 

When you go on vacation, you have a right to leave the door of your house or apartment wide open, with all the lights on, with the mail and the newspapers piling up letting everyone know that you are out of town.  You certainly have that right to leave your TV, furniture, electronics, jewelry, and clothes in plain view of everyone to see while you enjoy yourself without a care in the world.  It’s your right.  You own that home.  You shouldn’t have to have a security system, you shouldn’t have to lock your doors if you don’t want to.  Everyone should know that it’s your home, your sanctuary, and that they should respect your rights and not violate them.  The police might even be able to muster up the pretense that you aren’t the biggest moron on the planet . . . for a few minutes when they arrive at the scene when you return home to find that every single thing that you own has been moved out and there is nothing left in your house but the nails in the wall where your once beautiful artwork used to hang.  

There can be no question or debate about whether or not you have the right to go to a coffee shop and do your personal banking on an open, unsecure WIFI account and leave your screen open, with your financial information in plain sight while you decide to go buy a double vanilla soy latte half caff with an extra espresso shot and foam, without having your identity stolen and every penny you own being embezzled.  Forget the designer drink and obscene stupidity of that scenario.  If you are in a free WIFI hotspot, you have the right to ask a total stranger to watch your laptop while you go to the bathroom.  I’ve done it.  You’ve done it.  We’ll all done it at one point.  If we’re lucky, the person will be honest and when we return from the rest room our things will still be there and we will not have been violated.

You have a right to have unprotected sex, you have a right to get drunk every night of the week, and you have a right to leave a loaded gun with the safety off in your home with children.  You have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, don’t you?  You can do whatever floats your little boat as long as it doesn’t violate another person’s rights.  There shouldn’t be any consequences to your actions, right?  You should be able to do anything you want and people have to respect that you have a right to do it.  It’s in the Constitution, isn’t it?  And while we would like to think that the person sitting next to us in Starbucks is honest and will not steal our stuff, that’s just wishful thinking because we know that in our society, people steal.  They lie.  They cheat.  They often times take what doesn’t belong to them. 

Just as all these examples of legitimate rights that people have are valid, they have committed no crimes, they have not broken any laws, there is NOTHING in the world that prevents anyone from doing each and every one of these things, there are foreseeable outcomes to each and every situation where a criminal will disregard a person’s right to be stupid and will violate them.  It’s like, for example, a young lady has a right to go to a fraternity party, dressed in what amounts to denim panties and a tube top, get drunk off her ass, and play strip poker while drinking out of strange cups.  She has a right to expect not to be raped, right?  But is that a smart thing to do?  Oh dear Goddess in heaven, if I suggest that it’s misguided for a young woman to do that, I’m slut shaming.  It’s respectability politics.  “How dare you!  Take two seats.  Shut the fuck up you ankh nigga bitch!” 

We as a society would make an artform of clowning, degrading, humiliating, and ridiculing anyone who could think that they had a right to leave their personal property readily available to criminals to steal but if I suggest that women should apply common sense measures to protect their bodies from being raped, I’m oppressing women’s rights.  Check it.  A gazelle has a right to wander freely throughout the savannah, enjoying the sun and the birds and all the pretty flowers.  That does not mean that a lion is not going to make dinner out of it, though. 

There is this pervasive, widespread, and delusional notion that women do not have to use common sense in order to protect themselves from being raped.  Is your need to get drunk and pass out so great that you cannot comprehend that you are putting yourself in harm’s way if you do it around men who will not respect your rights?  No one deserves to be raped.  Let me say that again.  NO ONE DESERVES TO BE RAPED.  But that is not to suggest that there aren’t some basic, common sense measures that young women can take to prevent being raped.  No one should be shamed for their sexuality.  But that’s not at all the same thing as suggesting that you should go out and play chicken at high speeds on a curvy road at midnight when you are under the influence of alcohol and that you can’t expect there to be fatal consequences either. 

We live in a society of rape culture.  Men see women as objects.  Men see women as things to be used, slapped, choked, beaten, ejaculated on, and thrown away like trash.  We don’t teach our boys to understand that no means no, we don’t teach them about consent.  Males are socialized to view sex as power and that taking it, stabbing it, killing it, and that every other violent metaphor for sex makes them “real men”.  So, the solution can’t be to tell women that they have a right to wear clothing that has no other objective than to arouse lust in men, and then feign outrage and disgust when a man wants to violate them.  You lock your car.  You lock your house.  You don’t give your laptop to the homeless person on the street to watch while you go to the bathroom.  But you’ll scream at the top of your lungs that you have a right to be naked and walk down the street and no one should say anything to you.  It’s deluded logic. 

I get that the right to party and get drunk is an inalienable right.  If men do it, women should be able to also.  I get that if you wear more than a bikini, you are going to suffer the consequences of spontaneous combustion and be consumed with flames because anything that covers more than you labia and areola is simply too uncomfortable to wear.  I get that you can’t possibly wear modest clothing because that is somehow infringing on your sexuality and you have a right to be sexual without being shamed.  I get it!  You have a right to cover your naked body in honey and chain yourself to a tree in the woods too, but you better expect to be eaten up by insects or worse. 

It’s tragic that we aren’t teaching our sons not to rape.  It’s reprehensible.  But it’s equally as tragic, no more or less so, that we aren’t teaching our daughters to pair up, protect one another, to have a safety net when they meet with a man for the first time, or the second or third time for that matter.  We should be teaching our girls that they shouldn’t be alone with a guy until they know him well enough to know that he is not going to violate them.  Of course, some men will earn a woman’s trust and violate her any way.  It’s going to happen for sure because we live in a society where sociopaths and sexual predators abound.  But let’s not give an engraved invitation for men to violate us and then call it empowering or our right either.  Young girls should be saying to men, “I have texted my whereabouts to my network of girlfriends.  They know where I am and who I’m with and you should know that I’m committed to protecting my safety at all costs.”  

Just as we should be teaching our boys from before the onset of puberty that they should not be violating girls, in school, at home, and in the media, we should be teaching young girls that if they are going to a party, that the D.C.B., the designated cock blocker has to stay sober, someone has to make sure that in a drunken state that the other girls won’t go off and make unsafe choices, or to call the police immediately if they see some creep trying to violate a woman, and they should have a rotation so that everyone has to be said cock blocker when it is their turn.   We need to start teaching our girls that they don’t have to be hot and sexy all the time, that they have more value than showing off every possible inch of skin, that conforming to sexist definitions of womanhood is NOT empowering.  In my dream world, we teach young women that their intellect, their integrity, and their activism are their most attractive traits and that they can be as sexual as they want to be with individuals who have EARNED the right to their intimacy and that their value is not in the size of their ass. 

Young girls are convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that if they aren’t being sexy and attractive 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, that they are somehow being confined in an oppressive prison that tells that they have to be asexual and virgin in order to have value as women.  I’m not saying that.  I’m saying that your sexuality shouldn’t be defined by how much skin you expose to men who aren’t going to value you as a person any god damn way.   

The women who have responded in outrage to this posting, the ones who are sending messages to their friends to read this and unfollow me, didn’t read past the word “raped.”  This youthful arrogance that has been promoted, this denial of logic, reason, and common sense, has been perpetuated for so long and is so wide spread that it passes as sanity.  But I’m telling you from what I know because I have been raped.  I’ve been raped more than once.  Once, by a friend in college.  Once, by an acquaintance because I rejected his romantic advances and he thought he would pay me back by raping me.  The first two instances were completely beyond my control.  I could have done nothing to stop them.  The third time, I  was raped by a young man who saw me as sexual prey and stalked me until he could get the opportunity to be alone with me.  I let him into my apartment.  I felt uncomfortable with him being there because I wasn’t attracted to him and I knew he had a crush on me.  I shouldn’t have let him in my home.  I should have trusted my gut that his intentions weren’t pure.  What I did or didn’t do does not mean that I deserved to be raped.  It means my judgement was off.  It means I didn’t value myself enough, that being polite to him should not have been as important as my personal safety.  I’m not saying that any of my rapes were more valid or that my victimization was better or worse than the young woman who gets drunk at a party.  I can’t say it enough, no person, woman or man, deserves to be raped.  I am suggesting that as long as we hold on to this delusional notion that young women can do and wear anything they want, and that they can willfully put themselves in harm’s way and that there aren’t “supposed” to be consequences because in Utopialand, women can do and wear what they want, we are teaching young women to play Russian roulette with their safety and possibly their lives. 

Copyright 2016 AfroerotiK All Rights Reserved

My Man

I recently communicated with my ex-husband with whom I've not spoken in 22 years.  I've had a lot of time to heal from his betrayal and lies but while he moved on, well, he married his mistress, I've not found true and abiding love in the subsequent decades.  I have to confess, that physically, my ex-husband is my ideal.  I was as physical attracted to him the day we broke up as the day we met.  I find it ironic that several of my current requirements he had when we were married but I found them offensive or not assets at the time.  My tastes and standards have evolved tremendously as well as my knowledge of self.  I get that one can never find perfection, and I’m not seeking perfection but merely someone perfect for ME.  I am utilizing all of the law of attraction methods I know to manifest a man who matches my needs.  I would like to be partnered.  I would like to find a mate with whom I can share my time and space and energy, whom I can love and be loved by.  We all have our preferences and tastes but I think that with the closure I had with my ex-husband that the Universe might just see fit to bring me someone incredibly close to what and who I am looking for. 

It seems that any time I write about my preferences in a mate people get their panties in a bunch, because apparently, nothing offends people more than me stating what I want in my partner.   I always seem to get the most vitriolic and hateful responses from people who feel that my standards are too high or they don't like my criteria because they don’t meet them or they don’t want the same thing I want in a partner. I’ve been told more times than I can count that I should lower my standards and be satisfied with the superficial criteria they use in choosing a partner or that my criteria is impossible to find and I’m being unrealistic.  My response to my detractors is this:  1. I’m not average.  I’m not looking for someone average.  I am not asking for anything that I don’t bring to the table.  If I exist, then certainly there is someone out there who matches my energy.  2. I don’t really care if you are offended by my list.  If you don’t meet my criteria or you want something different in a partner, that’s fine by me.  

Finally, I'm always willing to compromise on the things I want but I'm not willing to settle on what will make me happy.   I know the elements that are essential for me to be happy in a relationship and I know the things that are niceties that are the icing on the cake.  I would never overlook a man who brings all the essential components I require to the table just because he’s not the right height or he doesn’t have every single thing I am asking for.  More importantly, it’s not anyone’s business to tell me what I should or shouldn’t compromise on.   

Shall we begin?  OK. 

It goes without saying that he must be a Black man.  I'm outrageously turned on by someone the same skin tone as me as I adore making love and seeing our limbs intertwined and not knowing where I end and he begins.  Again, it’s my preference, but I'm putting it out there what I want.  I’m attracted to a man’s essence, his character, his intellect, his integrity, and his gigantic heart so he can be any shade under the sun from blue black to ultra light.  His consciousness must, however, be that of a Black man.  I don’t want an assimilated, acculturated man who wants to be white or thinks that we should all be colorless.  I want a Black man, inside and out. 

I'm attracted to men who are 6'3" or 6'4".  I'm 5'10", I love to wear heels, and that height just fits me perfectly.  I'm much more apt to date someone shorter rather than taller because, oddly enough men who are 6'5" or taller just "don't fit".  5'11" is the absolute shortest I'd want to go but my dream man is 6'3" tall.  I’ve found that physical attraction is a key component in the integrity of my relationships.  I was not physically attracted to my last partner and I convinced myself that I was attracted to him physically because I was so attracted to his intellect.  Looking back, I remember times being in the grocery store and holding hands with him and feeling uncomfortable because in the back of my mind I didn’t find him attractive.  I didn’t consciously acknowledge it but I knew it was always going to be there from the minute I laid eyes on him.  I love a man who is 6’3” because it makes me feel warm and tingly when I stand on my toes to kiss.  I love the sensation of having a man be taller than me when I’m dressed up and we go out.  I love the way I can find my exact spot in his arms when we are snuggled in bed, they way my body conforms to his.  I love the look of a man in a suit when it falls just right  . . . it just gives me chills.   

It's hypocritical of me to suggest I want a man whose body is tone when I know good and god damn well that I'm currently 20 pounds over my ideal weight.   I would like to think that there is a man who is active and trim, not a gym rat, not a hard body, who doesn’t mind a woman with some mature curves.  I don't at all intend to stay the weight that I am currently but I also don't think I have to be perfect before I find the man who is perfect for me either.  If I meet a man and he’s got a few extra pounds, we can work it off together.  I’m cool with that.  I’ve dated men who were big and handsome and, again, it’s about maintaining that physical attraction.  I don’t want to have to manufacture attraction to my mate.  I want it to be organic and real. 

I'm not a size queen.  I don't want a guy with a gigantic dick.  Ouch!  I much prefer average to slightly above average.  Seven inches would be perfect for me.  And while we are talking about sex, I’d like him to be sensual, romantic, and erotic.  They are all different things and I’d like him to be versed in all of them.  His sexual skill has to have evolved past hitting it, stabbing it, and killing it.  If he’s willing to take his time and pleasure me, I’m going to put it on him like he stole something.  He MUST understand the art of being verbal during sex but it can’t be based on calling me a slut or a whore.  His skill must have evolved past what he learned when he was 16.   I love exploring fantasies with my partner but he must be evolved enough to understand that everything I think about are not things I always want to do.  Sometimes, I just enjoy talking about taboo, kinky things.  I’m addicted to intimacy so it’s about sharing and being transparent and being completely open, it’s not about going out and doing everything that crosses my mind.  Finding a man who gets that is essential. 

I actually prefer a hairless man.  I modicum of body hair is not at all a turn off but very hairy men don't do it for me.  Smooth, baby soft skin?  I’m drooling.  Oh, and I have a thing for hands.  I’m not even sure I know what it is but something about a man’s hands and fingers captivate me.  It’s not a fetish or anything and I don’t even know what sort of hands I like, I just know that I like nice hands. 

I will not date a Christian man.  Never again.  I would prefer he not be atheist because atheists tend not to acknowledge the wonder of the universe and how Divinely ordered we all are collectively.  Any and all organized religion is off the table with the exception that I will consider dating a man who is Buddhist.  My preference is someone who is spiritual, not religious, and who has a holistic, integrated view of science and consciousness interconnecting.  What?  It's my dream man.  I can ask for whatever I want.  Meditation, yoga, some centering/grounding practice is a must. 

I will never ever again in life date a man who identifies as heterosexual.  He must be OPENLY bisexual.  He has to be comfortable with his identity as a versatile, bisexual, Black man.  He has to be anally aroused and have toys to satisfy his needs when he is without a partner because he is discerning.  I will not tolerate someone who goes out and hooks up with strangers and sucks men off in glory holes to satisfy his cravings for sex with another man.  He must have loved another man, been in a relationship with another man.  He will be comfortable with his identity as bisexual, just as I am, and he will not be obsessed with unsafe and dangerous behaviors because he's tormented by not being straight.  This is an absolute, no compromising. 

He must be monogamous!  I'm bisexual and monogamous so I expect that from my partner.  Once I find my ideal partner, I want to focus all my time and energy on loving him.  I want him to do the same for me.  I get that it's unpopular to identify as monogamous these days but there are so many unhealthy, dysfunctional people in the world that when I find the man created for me, I don't want to bring another person's energy into our relationship.  I will work like a Hebrew slave to make sure that we stay happy, that we communicate our needs, desires, fears, and concerns with one another.  That takes commitment.  Having other people in and out of our bed will only serve to be a distraction and potentially infect our relationship with their negative or unhealthy energy. 

If he is a kinkster, meaning he is in the BDSM world, I would prefer that his role be that of a Dom to white men exclusively.  Black doms who dominate white women?  No thanks.  I want nothing to do with men who think it's a turn on to be a BBC nigger buck/bull.  If fucking white women is a turn on for you, I'm not the woman for you.  I will not even entertain the idea of a man who dominates Black women. You are degrading your mother, your sister, your daughter.   I want our relationship to be one of equals, partners, who love each other passionately, not a power play.  I am not submissive, I will not ever be submissive.  I do not desire to dominate my partner.  I am not attracted to men who want to be submissive to me.  He doesn't have to be a kinkster but if he is, I would like him to enjoy dominating white men with me.  (We can discuss and negotiate if we will do it together as a couple and how we will deal with the sexual element).  I'm perfectly fine if he's not in the life as well but I'm hoping that he will be understanding of the fact that a significant portion of my sexual arousal comes from divesting white men of the fallacy of white supremacy. 

If I'm creating the perfect partner and the ideal life together, I would like to us to share the perfect submissive together.  I would like it if we could find one white man who would belong to us, whose energies matches our own.  I don’t want a full time/live in sub, just one who could play when the need strikes us.  Since I’m using up all this manifesting energy, I should probably take the time to make out my own little list of all the things I’m looking for in an ideal submissive.  Finding my lover is the most important thing.  If he has no interest in dominating white men, I never have to dominate another white man as long as I live. 

Culturally he has to be super Black, Black-Black-blackety-black.  I don't care if he is as light skinned as Walter White (don’t ask, look him up), I need him to make Jesse Williams look like an arm chair activist.  He has to be committed to the liberation of Black minds.  My greatest fear is that I will find a man who is all the things I’m looking for and he won’t meet this one criteria.  I want him to love black art, and be knowledgeable about black history, and listen to jazz and love Alvin Ailey as much as I do but something in my gut tells me that the man who is created for me won’t be willing to confront racism with as much unapologetic fervor as I do.  I don’t want that to be an issue of contention for us.  It’s all speculation and conjecture because obviously I haven’t found anyone even close to meeting my standards yet but something tells me, I have a very strong FEELING, that this is the one thing that will challenge us most.

Politically, he has to be as left-leaning as one can get before falling off the scale and landing in Guantanamo.  I need a socialist who believes in helping the poor and the under-educated become self-sufficient.  Moderates are offensive to me.  Conservatives are repulsive and repugnant.  He has to see himself mirrored in people of all nationalities and colors around the world as well as fight for our unity, not our division. 

While he does not have to be as intellectual as I am, he must be well-read, he must be entertained by music and art and literature that is far beyond what the masses consume.  I want him to love to dance, and if he can salsa that would be a huge plus.  He not only has to read, he has to be captivated by my writing and want to devour everything I've ever written.  I want him to love the theater, and not those crappy Madea plays.  I want him to enjoy neo soul and rare grooves and world music and straight ahead jazz.  If he is well-versed in many topics and can speak about them articulately at dinner parties, I don’t need him to understand the fundamentals of quantum physics or explain the axiological parameters of indigenous consciousness.  I can discuss those things with academic colleagues. 

My man is creative/artistic.  I want him to be able to express himself with music or art or painting or sculpture or acting, hell, it can be jewelry making.  I can’t stand men whose only interests are sports and video games.  They bore me.  I want someone who is passionate about creating art.  My art is my writing.  I want to create art together.  I want to write songs together or a play or create some lasting and profound body of work that is our creative baby. 

Actually, I should re-order my list to make his emotional traits first.  To say that I want a man who is emotionally mature is an understatement.  He MUST be emotionally mature, first and foremost, not compromise.  He has to apologize when he’s wrong, he has to be able to communicate his concerns without projecting and deflecting blame or guilt.  He can’t be self-centered.  He has to know his issues and his triggers and be constantly working on them. He must be driven to evolve constantly.  His commitment to honesty and integrity is imperative.  I need an excellent, effective communicator.  He has to prioritize our relationship and understand that the minute he isn’t happy, he has to tell me so that we can decide if it’s time to move on or we need to change the dynamics of our relationship.  I am not tolerating a sexist, patriarchal, misogynist man.  He’s not like that at all.  I know him.  I feel him. 

Weed, or natural botanicals are the only drugs I’m comfortable with him doing.  We both drink alcohol in moderation.  I’m lacto-ovo pescatarian but I don’t mind a carnivore at all.  His food tastes have to be advanced beyond fried chicken wings from the Chinese spot, or the same boring foods that he eats over and over however.  A bit of a foodie would be awesome.  An organic foodie would be preferable.  My man has a unique sense of style.  He can wear a tuxedo and look damn good and wear jeans without looking like a 20-something rapper. 

One of the most essential traits for my man is that he can’t be intimidated by me.  He can’t be intimidated by my intellect, my activism, or by letting my star shine.  He has to be completely comfortable with the enigmatic being that I am and still see all the facets of me, even the fragile, insecure, damaged parts.  He has to be supportive and nurturing and be my biggest cheerleader. 

Notice I didn’t include car or job or income or wealth or house or any of those things.  Those things don’t matter to me.  Those things are truly superficial.  I would like a man whose aesthetic tastes are complimentary to my own so that one day, when we build a house together and furnish it, that it can be filled with the art and furnishings that we both love.  I would love our garden to feed all our friends and family and neighbors.  I would love to make love to him every single solitary day until we are old and ready to transition.  That’s my dream. 

Well, there you have it Universe.  I’ve put it out there.  If I can see it, I can achieve it.  Bring forth the manifestations of my desires to me now.  And so it is!