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|Do black women realize when white people are in charge of finding black people, its usually an oddity?|
Don't get me wrong, some of their choices are fine, but what I've noticed is they always try to find the one thing that separates US from them the most in an attempt to say "this is black beauty" I'll give a few examples.
Alek Wek -One of the darkest type of African in Africa. This is not a stab at black beauty, but they also did the same thing with Grace Jones a decade before.
(Alek Wek) farm5.static.flickr.com/4063/4232…
(Grace Jones) farm3.static.flickr.com/2731/4232…
Saarjite Baartman, a young Khosian woman from Southern Africa whose body was the main attraction at public spectacles in both England and France for over five years, is perhaps the most infamous case of a Khosian body on display. Baartman, who became known as the Hottentot Venus, was brought to Europe from Cape Town in 1810 by an English ship’s surgeon who wished to publicly exhibit the woman’s steatopygia, her enlarged buttocks. Her physique, particularly her steatopygic appendage, became the object of popular fascination when Baartman was exhibited naked in a cage at Piccadilly, England. When abolitionists mobilized to put an end Baartman’s public display, she informed them that she participated in the spectacles of her own volition. She even shared in profits with her exhibitor. The spectacle of Baartman’s body, however, continued even after her death at the age of twenty-six. Pseudo-scientists interested in investigating “primitive sexuality” dissected and cast her genitals in wax. Baartman, as far as we know, was the first person of Khosian-descent to be dismembered and displayed in this manner
Current Times - Even with Lebron James
|Wow, Sarah Baartman, the "Hottentot Venus". Haven't seen anybody talk about her in this section since smart people used to frequent here.|
You raise some interesting points. As for Alek Wek, I think she represents the image of "pure blackness" in the eyes of many people these days, even though she comes from a specific tribe in Africa (North Africa no less), that has a very unique look. It comes from the idea that black Africa is a monolithic entity that must be embodied by one defining "look". The Dinka tribe has very striking features that stand out, so somehow they must be the definitive "unmixed" black people. The entire thought process isn't very logical, but that's what stereotyping is all about.
White people do it to themselves too though, to a degree. Look at how they place blond hair and blue eyes on a pedestal amongst themselves, even though a very small percentage of them have those features. Natural blonds are vastly outnumbered by "bottle blonds" because of this.
|Do you think Rap is a depiction of blacks at there worse?|
My friend said since they use n&^#a freely it makes people think that it is fine to look at blacks like that. She also said that since females dance half naked on the TV screen it makes people think it is okay to call us as black women, bitches and hoes. I told her that there are a lot of positive raps, some videos have no females dancing, and a lot of the video girls are not even black anymore. I told her rap that is popular does happen to show blacks a little bad. But I said not everyone looks at it how she does. I then remind her of some of the older rap not as bad as todays, she went on to say todays rap is bad. I told her I would ask you guy about it. What do you think?
|Does your friend have a nice butt? What does she look like? Hook it up|
|My newest poem, for people who enjoy beat poetry and long poems with no real structure.?|
I had to put that little warning above, sorry! If you don't like this poem, (and it is a poem), then please say so respectfully. Thank you! Peace!
I am no longer proud of what mankind produces
Which is greed
And other capitalistic ideals.
I am not trying to sound so proud,
I am only trying to express a certain stream of consciousness
And is that so wrong?
I’ll admit, while I profess to be a back-beat laid back cat
I am obviously not.
The true cats are the ones who swing through the barren night
With bloody eyes fixed
On the hole in the wall
Playing Be-Bop in a 21st-century Volkswagen
And drinking thriving on the dying coastal scene
Because these beings are not of their time
Only young hipsters and long hairs
Living times long gone
And strangely, revitalized.
And I have seen the man who reads poetry written by Bukowski,
In the Golden Gates of the Park
Nearby the hip corner that has been established as “hip”
By decades of fascination and indifference,
With the wind whipping away the narcotics of his youth,
Which he left behind once he turned eighteen
And is now glared and disliked as an adult
By the privileged few.
And I have witnessed political beatings,
They say it’s a moment for the history books,
But I know it’s a flawed kind of history
Written down by historians with the private agenda,
Which is handed down to them from the wispy black haze
That currently permeates Capitol Hill
With tanks and other armoured machines lining the cracking boulevards,
With scared and hungry skeleton thin waifs,
Who moan and scream out against this addictive warfare
On the poverty class of the current decade
Which has been a sorry decade to date,
With another Reichstag fire on our soil
And whipped up soiled religious posers
Who cloud the common man’s thought with lies and rules as to how they should ****.
It’s really no business of mine,
That’s what I have been told,
But everyone else seems to be unaware of the naked families
Living the back streets and black rooted ghetto,
For there is where high brotherhood has stood the test of time,
To pull back the narcotic crazy raving madmen
Who sit in rooms of silver,
And sing softly of better things,
While innocent men are being beaten and stripped for show
In the haunted hellish bay of the Governmental Unknown.
But I have travelled to New Mexico,
Where shamans in blue topaz and emerald foreheads
Salute the people Karma blesses with long life and fewer headaches,
And in the other rooms,
Are the peyote kings of the desert scene,
Who rave and cry out in their dreams induced by the smoke
That has permeated the room in an opium drenched haze
That leaves even the most resistant man
Twitching in spasms while tripping wistfully with his buddies
Benny and Mop,
Who are understanding mad cats indeed.
And when their thought provoking senses begin to burn low,
The shaman simply lights the night away,
In a way even coastal cats can’t comprehend.
And I have journeyed to the barrios in Mexico City,
And met many fine women in their golden rooms of seduction,
Whilst meeting heavily jaded men in suits and ties
Who fan themselves while waiting in line,
Casually glancing at their watches,
While their hearts are racing
Knowing full well they’ve got a nice wife at home.
And poor bearded fools who drive wildly,
Screaming Spanish at passer-by’s, and the high-heeled chica
Who has run away from an abusive home
Heavily painting her face,
To hide from the rest of the world.
Where have you gone America?
I challenge you to insight!
Where are your guyren?
They are typing and clicking away,
In this post-tech boom world.
And I am one of them.
|misuse of the word ideals, still reading.|
I challenge you to insight? That's like saying "I challenge you to idea." Which, actually sounds good because idea reads more like a verb, and is common enough not to be mistaken as misuse, or misspelling.
"The true cats are the ones who swing through the barren night
With bloody eyes fixed
On the hole in the wall
Playing Be-Bop in a 21st-century Volkswagen
And drinking thriving on the dying coastal scene"
This was the exchange I liked the best. I didn't like most of it, but this got me thinking. I would have thrown out "true". It reads better if you say "the cats". We know they're the "true" cats because you just said who was fake.
To me, not that I matter, the "I did this" "but then I did that" makes you sound a little preachy or kinda gives me the impression that you like telling me all the crap you've done. Kinda like Steve Martin in Baby Mama. "I've toasted pine nuts over an active volcano."
If I had written what you did, I'd cut all that out. I'd just say, "In New Mexico" because then the readers mind goes to New Mexico, not to the question of some guy's travel habits.
"the peyote kings of the desert scene"
heh .. sounds like a band Name. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you! ... The Peote Kings of the Desert Scene!"
|Help! Do you think this Libra got issues!!! I need your help (warning: this story is long)?|
Im a libra
and I have hard times finding a faithful man, ssssssssoooo Idk
Im a attractive women and I have all the libra characters...so, I feel like finding a match shouldn't be a problem. I dated a pisces who I love in highschool, we didnt have sex for 2 years because we was trying to do the right thing (Christian), but he never confirmed me as his girlfriend in public. Coming to find out, he wasnt too sure about his sexuality (if he was gay or not and i found out through my mother). Then I dated this jamaican aries man...I was nineteen and he was 9 years older than me. ;/ anyways, I dated him and he pressure me to have sex with him and I eventually did!!! Then once we were done, he got out the bed and took a shower. I was piss and didnt call him no more. Then about a year later, I dated a gemini...and boy was that a bad idea. I tried so hard to stay in a relationship because he was a cry baby and a drama king. WE were both christians and was trying to do the right thing but we end up having sex and oral. Then, he piss me off because he told me I was easy, and he didnt want us to pray anymore and work things out. Then a year later, I found a taurus man. This time, I came up to him because he was HOOOOTTT!!! I left a myspace message and was like " hey there when I first saw u I was like ddddddddddddaaammmnn!! " He laugh and was like ok, and he text me the next day!!! I was excited because I thought he was ssssssssooo fine!!! when we talk on the phone, I was like wanting to see wat I got on? I was nnnnnnnnnnooo cus Im I got to get to no u better( but it was so hard for me to say nooooo, cus I really like him physically) I hang up and was so horny in my bed. Then, we dated but I feel bad to this day because we had sex on the first day!!! I told myself, "ok, this is not going to go any futher because I had sex on the first day." two days later after our date, he calls me. I was suprise because I was expecting to not call anymore since I probally seem like a ho. so, I told myself that I will just be his **** buddy. So, we did this for about 2 in a halve months, but the problem was that he was wanting to see me every week or two and I was meeting his friends and his brothers and sister. Not only just that, he wanted me to go home with him and chill with family? ;/ Of coarse I fell for him because it seem like he liked me!!! but I asked him what we was doing because I got confuse by him telling me to his friends and brothers and meeting family, thinking that he like me. but he said that Im a cute girl and sweet but he dont want a relationship right now. So im like ok....eventually i kept askin him because I got sick of tired of feeling like Im just some girl on the side. well, he was like Im just friends with benefits. I stop callin him for a month but he saw me dancing with a guy and he call me like 8 times that night. I finally answer and gave back in. But he was saying the same crap, but told me that I am not women enough for him physically (which I dont have a big butt like other black girls) and he told me them lies just to have sex with me. I was piss.....then, we did a video on his phone together and I had pictures of him too but I erase it and he erase the video on his phone but save the video on his sprint account and show the video to his friends.... which his friends lives around the corner from me!!! I hate him for that!!! but eventually, I found figure out his phone account password and other passwords and erase the pictures and videos...which he had about 150 to 200 pictures and videos of naked women!!!
Then I dated this capricorn guy who was a stripper. we dated in january and he stop calling me then we talk again in april because he was about to go move back down south and was sayin that he really care for me and wanted to see me again. I was like no no no....then he called me like 10 times and then I gave in. eventually we had sex but he didnt call me again.....i went crazy on him and then he called me crazy cus I left threats on his voicemail. He save the messages because he said that if I call him again that he will send the messages to my grandmother and that im crazy and I need help!!! Im just so tired of men now but I really do want love.
I no this is long story but do u think I should give up on love. Do u think this Libra should just take a year or two break or do u think its ok for me to date....I only had 4 sexual partners now sooo, some say thats alot and some say that, thats nothing!!! lol
what should I do!!! What do you guys think is my issue!!!
|You are asking people if you should give up on love or if you should continue dating? That decision should be yours and only yours.|
Excuse me, don't you have a mind of your own?
Since you are directly asking strangers if you have issues, I would say yes, you do have issues. It seems like you are not levelheaded because you are looking for love, YET you act like someone who just looks for casual relationships. It appears like you don't act serious and act rather immature. I would say, change your behavior, because you are not going to attract a guy that will take you serious.
Also, why are you comparing yourself to other people in terms of how many sexual partners you have had? That is guyish.
|Please read: Would you wanna continue reading on if this were a book...??? This is unedited too?|
It was Friday night and Jaya and her homeboy Silk were going to hit up Candies. Candies was a local strip joint that doubled as a club in their town. It would be 19-year-old Jaya’s first time ever going to a strip club. Jaya knew that if she was going to be in a club of mostly half-naked women, she would really have to be on point. So she put on her favorite dark skinny jeans, the ones that made her butt look nice and plump like an apple. They also benefitted her by showing the big butterfly she had recently gotten tattooed on her lower back. Then she looked in her closet for a cute top exclaiming, “Damn! I knew I shoulda went to the mall and got me a fit! Can’t walk in there half-steppin!” Then she remembered the top she had bought a week earlier. It was purple and gold, and cut so she could show off her dangling butterfly navel ring. She put it on and looked her outfit over in the mirror stating her approval by saying, “Get ‘em! Get ‘em!”
At that moment her cell phone rung. The phone read Silk. She answered, “Hello?” A low tenor replied, “I’m outside. Hope you got on something sexy!”
“Now you of all people know I keep it sexy.” She laughed a little too hard. She then strapped on her gold stiletto pumps, grabbed her gold clutch and walked out of her room.
Her mother and lil brother, B.J were in the living room watching something on TV. She walked over to her little brother asking, “Can I get your house key?” Since she had just recently moved back into her grandmother’s house she still hadn’t had a key made. In the back of her mind, she didn’t have any intentions of getting one made either because she didn’t plan to be living there long. B.J came back with the key and handed it to her. She then walked into her grandmother’s room and wished her goodnight saying, “See ya in the morning grama, I’m goin out”. Even though her grandmother was ill she always had something to say that would put a smile on your face. Big Lady, as her family called her, exclaimed, “aawwww hooochiie cooochiiie”. Big Lady would always state this remark if you were wearing something very revealing or tight. Jaya smiled it off because she knew her grandmothers thoughts. Jaya made her way out the front door and sashayed up to Silk’s silver Dodge Intrepid.
As soon as Jaya opened the door, Silk expressed his approval, “Wooeeeyyy! I’ma have to fight to keep them ****** off you tonight!” Jaya responded, “What-eva!”
They both laughed as Silk backed out of her driveway. Jaya then got serious and asked, “Do I look okay?” She knew she liked her ensemble but needed the approval of a male, like she did most her young life. Silk then looked her over and said, “You know you sexy. Don’t take this the wrong way but you fine enough to work in the club we about to go in”. Jaya just blushed, but somewhere in her insecure mind she wanted to believe it was true.
When Jaya and Silk pulled up to Candies the line was out the door. She immediately became self-conscious. Jaya had come a long way since her guyhood days of low self-esteem and various insecurities but still her mind always found a way to detract from her true beauty.
They got out the car and walked up to end of the line. Though the line was long security had the line moving fast. When they got to the entrance, Silk paid for Jaya and himself.
Walking into the club Jaya was taken aback. At first glance in the strip club she saw a light-skinned chick with Indian long black hair, standing 5’4 in some stiletto heels. She was donned in a black criss-cross top that barely had enough fabric to cover her size D cup rack. Leaving little to the imagination she had on a pair of T-backs that her big rump-shaker seemed to swallow. The club goers knew her as Stallion . She lived up to her name too. She was swaying in tune to the slow rhythmic beat of T-Pain’s “Can’t Believe It”. She had the anxious young dude in front of her in awe. He sat flashing a big stack of 20s while licking his lips staring hard at her as she teased him by playing with….
|First of all you're presenting this genre of work to the wrong forum of people. They read what they know.|
I don't particularly choose urban fiction but I do read what my daughter brings home. Some of it is very 'adult' for a fifteen year old but then again at fifteen I was heavily into Jackie Collins. We also don't live in 'da hood' so I know she is limited in some ways and that these books give her a glimpse into what other people of color lives are like. The choices they make, the options they have etc. I've grown to appreciate not only the writing style but the authors who bring there life experiences to light. Sometimes I feel as though the people who have made the other comments live a sheltered life and choose to believe that the news and rap music are the only places where they can see 'black' people. They don't choose to read the writing because they've never lived the experiences and therefore have no desire to hear it.
I've never lived it either (in a real life for death type of way) but I see your character. I see Jaya doing the getting hoochified. I remember at that age wanting to squeeze into tight jeans a baby tee's and go out to get the attention of grown men even if I didn't know what to do with it. I wanted to be in those places where all the action was going to be. I remember standing on those long lines, not sure if my outfit was good enough to get all of my crew in. I'd be freezing my *** off in practically nothing just so they could see my body.
I am interest enough to continue reading, I want to know 'how Stallion got her name' stallions gallop not sway. Why is Jaya at a strip club? How old is Silk and why hasn't he made a physical move on her? Why isn't her grandmother more concerned about her going out that way? Does her insecurites come from the lack of attention shown by her family? Does Jaya have education going for her? Are they living in the hood or somewhere on the fringes? You mention her mother sitting there with her little brother how come she doesn't comment? Does Jaya want to be at the club or was she 'expected to go'? Is she lesbian or just curious or what?
Despite what the other comments say, I would read off if for no other reason than because you have given and interesting start to several questions that now I want answered. An opening that has enough answers and questions is ideal in keeping the flow moving. Next you should begin answering the questions asked about Jaya and perhaps pepper it with some serious hood action.
And remember if you want constructive critiques find a forum more geared toward your style of writing.
|What do you think? I have come to the conclusion that women do not have the same level of...?|
...freedom which men have.
For instance, I asked if anyone knew of an equivalent word for "skank" and "slut" which referred to a man with loose morals and, of course, there is none. I was just watching Dancing With the Stars. One of the male dancers had his shirt torn off by his female partner. There he stood half naked on t.v. Remember Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction?" Wow! What controversy. There was talk of fining the network and punishing both Jackson and Timberlake. So where's the justice here?
Even in the presidential race, Clinton was barraged with insults which no male candidate especially no black male candidate has ever had to endure.
Is there no political correctness when it concerns a woman or women in general?
|Is there a double standard? You bet your sweet bippy there is. Name the occupation, except for nurses, teachers, homemakers, etc., men lead the pack. Your question is right on target. I think men created these gender slurs, like slut, to put themselves above women. Why are men allowed to take off their shirts while women who nurse their babies are not allowed to show even a little bit of cleavage? Don’t men realize that putting a blanket over the baby's head causes them to overheat?|
I watched Dancing with the Stars and was a little shocked when I saw the shirt torn off. I am willing to bet that there was not one word of protest about this action. I would also bet the most people didn’t save this dance on their Tivo’s to watch over and over again.
As for Hillary Clinton, my e-mail is bombarded with slander against this woman, the first strong women candidate for the presidency of the United States. All of these e-mails come from men who were my friends. What are they afraid of? That a woman might be actually able to do a great job of leadership to run the country? That a woman can actually leave the kitchen and cookie baking to walk and talk with kings (and Queens) about something more important than sex? Some men think that women cannot be as smart or intelligent as men. Some men think that to apologize is a sign of weakness.
I believe you are right. There is no male equivalent language for the slurs that seem to only apply to women. If there are, I don't know of any, and really, I don't want to know of any.
As for justice, I feel that unless we all stop judging one another, there will never be justice. We must learn not to fear the other sex, for fear is the only roadblock to love. And it is only true love that will heal this tired old world.
I wish you well, my friend.
|What do you think of this writing?|
Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. A short answer is good as well. Sorry about the length, and I know it's extremely cliche -_- I'm just trying to get myself to write since I seem to keep giving myself the "I don't have time" excuse. :P
A small, thin woman stood at the entrance of the hut, her dry black hair whipping across her face in the wind. She clutched in her bony arms a bundle of green cloth, hugging it fiercely to her as if the wind might snatch it away at any moment.
“Imelda,” the woman cried, shivering in the frigid air of the yet dark morning. “Imelda, please, hear me –”
Another woman appeared at the entrance, short but big-boned. Her eyes, black and harsh, regarded the newcomer for a moment, and then stepped aside to let her in. The woman hurried forward, shaking the bundle, and it let out a high cry.
“I will light the fire.” Briskly, the woman - Imelda – strode across to the other side of the small room and knelt at the hearth.
“It is the babe,” the other woman said breathlessly, setting the bundle on a wooden bench by the hearth. “I fear – that it is like you said…”
“Be calm, Reya. Is it the mark?” Imelda spoke without looking up as she prodded the fire into being.
“Yes. Sometimes it – glows – just as you said, and the babe, it begins to cry, as if it is in pain…”
Imelda stood and brushed off the front of her skirt. “But the babe is not pale? Its skin is not ashen, it breathes freely?”
Seized with sudden doubt, Reya turned to the babe, lifting the bundle to peer at its face. “No – no… I don’t think so – here, you look.” She thrust the bundle into the shorter woman’s arms.
Imelda unwound the dark green cloth until the babe’s shoulders were naked against the crisp air, and as the old woman turned the babe around in her arms, Reya held her breath.
A strange black mark on its shoulder shone in the firelight, a dark blemish against the babe’s pale, smooth skin. The mark resembled three short, sharp lines, almost as if it had been raked by a set of claws.
“Is it – will the babe –”
“The babe is fine,” the old woman said, wrapping the cloth back around the babe’s shoulder and head. “It will live. The mark has not spread.” She held the babe at arm’s length, examining it with a critical eye. “A strong one, this is, to have made it…”
“What do you mean?” Reya reached out for her babe. “To have made it? You thought – that the babe would – die?”
“It’s not important,” Imelda said, her tone dismissive. She looked away. “Just do not show the mark to anyone else. Never let the babe have its shoulder be uncovered. It is a girl, is it not?”
“Yes, Imelda –”
“Then all is good, no one will suspect anything amiss. The babe will live. But bring her back to me when she is older, when she is around fifteen summers of age. Then I will tell her about her –” Imelda paused, her brows drawing together for a moment. “…her blemish… the birthmark.”
“That is what you will tell her.”
“But what if I am no longer here? What if something happens to me?”
The old woman hesitated again, casting the babe a contemplative gaze. “Very well,” she said, and reaching into the pockets of her skirt, she withdrew a small crimson bead. “Give this to the girl to wear around her neck,” she said. “All the elders of the village will know it is mine.”
“Thank you,” Reya breathed, accepting the bead. “But you said you would tell her about the mark… does that mean you haven’t told me something?”
“No – now is not the time. Go, before the day sets in and people wonder why you have come to this crazy old hag’s home.”
“I thank you again, Imelda…”
“Go. Make haste.”
Reya departed, pressing the babe tightly against her chest as she went. Her babe was alive, everything would be all right.
But if only the old woman would tell her what the mark meant…
|It's good, though a little long. The dialogue sounds a bit too stiff and formal for what I presume are meant to be simple folk. The modern meaning of "babe" interferes with my picture of the guy as a genderless bundle of cloth.|
Does the bead have to be worn in any particular way? Does it need to be mounted, or is it OK to pierce it and thread it on a cord? If the village elders will know who the bead has come from, why does the old woman tell Reya to go before people wonder why she's come there? Or does "people" not include the elders?
|Why has the government released misleading statements regarding the Bin Laden Operation?|
Usually when governments use misinformation, they use it to make themselves look good. The Obama Administration gets points for originality, insofar as it’s been using disinformation and misinformation to make itself look arbitrary, unlawful, helpless and stupid. Here’s jj’s great summary:
Okay, what do we have here:
1) There was a firefight.
2) There was no firefight.
3) Bin Laden was “resisting.”
4) Bin Laden wasn’t armed. (Makes the concept of “resisting” interesting.)
[4.a) And the newest one: the SEALS thought bin Laden was reaching for a weapon.]
5) He used his wife as a shield.
6) His wife was killed too.
7) He didn’t use his wife as a shield. She ran at a SEAL who shot her in the leg, but she’s fine.
8 ) Some other woman — the maid? — was used as a shield. By somebody. Downstairs.
9) That other woman — downstairs — was killed.
10) Maybe not. She was killed unless she wasn’t — and who was she, anyway?
11) Bin Laden’s son was killed.
12) Unless it was some other guy.
13) Bin Laden’s daughter saw him get killed. She’s undoubtedly traumatized, poor dear.
14) They were going to capture Bin Laden until the problem with the helicopter, which was:
A) It had mechanical trouble
B) It did a hard landing
C) It crashed
D) It clipped a wall with a tail rotor, effectively a crash
15.) They were never going to try to capture him; it was always a kill mission.
16.) No, it wasn’t.
17) The chopper blew up.
18) The SEALs blew it up.
19.) Panetta said yesterday the world needed proof and the photo would be released.
20.) Obama said today in an interview he taped with Steve Kroft for “60 Minutes” to be broadcast Sunday that it won’t be released. It’s too gruesome, would offend Muslim sensibilities (something he worries about a lot — I personally do not give a warm fart on a wet Wednesday about Muslim sensibilities), and how would Americans feel if Muslims released pictures of dead Americans?
21.) Kroft — who’s not a total idiot — pointed out that ever since “Black Hawk Down” days, Muslims have been doing precisely that, filming American bodies being dragged through the streets, filming Daniel Pearl’s head being cut off, filming any and everything.
22) Obama gets pissed at CBS, the tape gets cleaned up, that question disappears. (Inside info.)
23.) We got a “treasure trove” of stuff from hard drives, etc.
24.) There were no phone lines, and no internet access at the “mansion,” they didn’t even have TV — what “treasure trove?”
25.) There is obviously in the pictures of the place a large satellite dish. I guess they used it for making salads.
26.) And now, just today: apparently the idea was to capture him, but only if he was naked. There was a suspicion he might be wearing a suicide bomber type explosive vest, or belt. So if he’s not naked and you can’t see if he has a vest on or not – shoot him.
The idiot Carney — they actually managed to find someone who makes Gibbs look good — is currently twisting himself into knots trying to explain why the photograph that the whole world was expecting isn’t going to be released. (Obviously the thing to do is get Trump on the case, he’ll force Obama to release it.)
The military did great, the administration — or whatever that bunch is, kind of like “The Little Rascals” — have managed to turn it into spaghetti. The story has changed so many times in the course of a mere three days it’s a joke — the world would be better off if Panetta had left the little shitwit on the golf course.
|Do you think these jokes are funny?|
Sally goes to work one morning crying her eyes out. Her boss, concerned his employee, walks over to her and asks sympathetically, "What's the matter?" The blonde replies, "Early this morning I got a phone call that my mother had passed away."
The boss, feeling very sorry at this point suggests to the young girl, "Why don't you go home for the day...we aren't terribly busy. Just take
the day off and go relax."
Sally very calmly states, "No I'd be better off here. I need to keep my mind busy and I have the best chance of doing that here."
The boss agrees and allows her to work as usual. "If you need anything just let me know" says the boss.
A few hours pass and the boss decides to check on Sally. He looks out his office and sees her crying hysterically.
He rushes over an asks, "What's the matter now? Are you going to be ok?"
Sally breaks down in tears. "I just received a horrible call from my sister. She said that her mom died too!!"
<<<<<This blonde decides one day that she is sick and tired of all
these blonde jokes and how all blondes are perceived as stupid,
so she decides to show her husband that blondes really are
smart. While her husband is off at work, she decides that she is
going to paint a couple of rooms in the house.
The next day, right after her husband leaves for work, she gets
down to the task at hand. Her husband arrives home at 5:30 and
smells the distinctive smell of paint. He walks into the living
room and finds his wife lying on the floor in a pool of sweat.
He notices that she is wearing a ski jacket and a fur coat at
the same time.
He goes over and asks her if she is OK. She replies yes. He asks
what she is doing. She replies that she wanted to prove to him
that not all blonde women are dumb and she wanted to do it by
painting the house. He then asks her why she has a ski jacket
over her fur coat. She replies that she was reading the
directions on the paint can and they said....
FOR BEST RESULTS, PUT ON TWO COATS.
<<<<A blonde guy gets home early from work and hears strange noises coming from the bedroom. He rushes upstairs to find his wife naked on the bed,sweating and panting. "What's up?" he says. "I'm having a heart attack," cries the woman.
He rushes downstairs to grab the phone, but just as he's dialing, his 4-year-old son comes up and says,"Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Ted's hiding in your closet and he's got no clothes on!"
The guy slams the phone down and storms upstairs into the bedroom, past his screaming wife, and rips open the wardrobe door.
Sure enough, there is his brother, totally naked, cowering on the closetfloor.
You rotten bastard, "says the husband,"my wife's having a heart attack and you're running around naked scaring the guys!!!
<<<<A blonde bought two horses, and could never remember which horse was which.
A neighbor suggested that she cut the tail of one horse and that worked great until the other horse got his tail caught in a bush. It tore just right and looked exactly like the other horse's tail and our friend was stuck again.
The neighbor suggested she notch the ear
off one horse. That worked fine until the other horse caught his ear on a barbed wire fence. Once again our friend couldn't tell them apart.
The neighbor suggested she measure the horses for height. When she did, she was very pleased to find that the white horse was 2 inches taller than the black horse.
<<<< One day a Blonde walked into the doctors office with 2 red ears.
The doctor asked what happened. She said "I was ironing and the
phone rang and I picked up the iron by mistake. "What happened
to the other ear?" the doctor asked. "They called back."
Two blondes thought they would save money by re-siding their house themselves. After assembling all the necessary materials, the 1st blond put on a nail bag and started pounding in nails.
As the 2nd blonde brought over another piece of siding, she watched the 1st blonde take out a nail, look at it, and then throw it over her shoulder. The next nail she pounded in, after looking at it first. The 2nd blonde watched this routine for sometime, and finally asked the 1st blonde why she was throwing some of nails over her shoulder.
The 1st blonde said that when she pulled out a nail from the bag & looked at it, if the point of the nail was facing her, the nail had to be defective!
The 2nd blonde said "Those nails are not defective.
They're for the other side of the house!
|haha omg sooo funny! ur getting a star.|
|Does anyone stretch their nipples, or do nipple pumps? NOT breasts but Nipples-?|
I'm male age 24 w/ petite body; 104# @ 5'2". I keep my body shaved in the spring & summer, except I trim the light brown hairs on my arms to 1/8" length & bleach them blonde. The hair on my arms are very fine, & I grease them up w/ oil & blow dry them so they stick straight up & out. They are more noticable this way; if anyone is paying attention. I like that! Also, I trim the hairs under my arms to 1/8" length. After this, I use 1/4" narrow masking tape to place over the center of hairs & shave all these hairs around off. I get a very nice, [I think] "landing strip" under my arms. This way, when I raise my arms the hairs are short, pronounced & noticeable, ; & discreat; it shows they've been manicured. I also do the same thing w/ my belly hairs, 1/8" wide, "landing strip" ; but only 2" above my belly hole & only to the top of pubic area. All other body hairs are shaved completely off.; IE BALD. I love how it feels & looks. I've been told by men & women that I have a sexy feminine looking body. BUT by others, I've been threatened. I don't like that S_it! I like to wear micro mini shorts & micro mini skirts & go barefooted, showing off my sexy, [I think] ankle tatto & ankle bracelets. I have been stretching my nipples now, [Not breasts] for quite some time. I made my own nipple stretchers. If anyone wants to know how to make their own, & customize them it works very well; get ahold of me. It'll cost you about $5.00 max. Also, no pain w/ these, unles you want it. I just measured my nipples w/ caliper & they are 8.87mm across & 7.04mm long. I love how they look & feel! Also, I have small rubber gaskets you can get at a hardware store to keep them perky & hard; & OH so sensietive & & aroused! I have since put feminine delicate jewelry onto these nipple rings. I do know they feel Hot & I like how they look in the mirror; & w/ no piercings! I can leave them on all day w/ no problems. They can come off atnight or leave them on all night. Also have done , [made] belly button jewelry [goes inside belly button & stays] w/ out piercing for $1.00 & looks hot! I like to wear it also in public. I get turned on, people looking at my naked shaved body. BUT, I don't like the threats some have given me! I don't want to be naked in public, but like to have the "least" clothing on as possible. I like to be barefooted as well. One guy told me that I would make a fantastic shemale. I'm definately thinking about it- seriously. I'd appreciate your input on this. In my last question- one gal asked "what kind of micro mini shorts do I wear". They are solid black, hemmed shorter than factory [ customized -as I am short] , black, & show about 1/2" to 1" of my shaved buttcheeks. If I pull them up I like it this way; about 1 1/2" of my buttcheecks show. I always either tan in the sun w/ as little on as possible, [legally] & put glittery self tanning lotion on my arms & legs. Its important for me to look sexy! I just am hot, when I see the gals this way; shorts, barefooted w/ ankle tattos or ankle bracelets on!! Yes, I Love the ladies!! I also am "curious" about being w/ a "nice" guy, that would appreciate me, my thoughts, mind and Last- my body. Its always been my fantasy to service a guys Big shaved "unit". My anus is a true virgin, from a guys penis. I've only been able to get a "beginners" dildo in my anus. It is, & was a lot of work, but finally got it all the way in. Afterwards w/ a lot of work, I liked it. It felt good to have my most private part invaded. I fantasize about someone putting a speculum up my anus & looking around inside of my body. If you wish, leave your email & we can talk. Thanx for your help, if you do. ALSO, what can I do about the threats from guys that don't like how I dress. This scares me! PLEASE ANSWER THIS QUESTION! Thanx~