Thursday, October 27, 2011

It don't make any difference to me - Kevin Michael (ft. Wycleff)

This a statement that will make a lot of people angry, and when I say a lot of people, I mean black women. I am a black male and I'm proud to be one, I am also what is referred to as a "vanilla killer" because I like white women. WOAH!!! Before you tar and feather me, throw me to the wolves and put my head on a pike, let me get my point across then maybe you can castrate me at the end.




I like women, I like all types of women and I definitely don't discriminate between the different types of women that ( I wouldn't say date because I don't do that) I engage with emotionally and physically and also the ones that I fuck and those that fuck me. It's just that every race has it's pros and cons, please forgive me if I generalize here but I feel it is necessary to get the point across.





(I apologize for the sexist ads, I couldn't resist) Alright, lets start with the process even before the coitus occurs, the flirting stages. Now neither of these flirting methods are incorrect, in the least, it's a matter of personal preference. Also, to be more PC as we know everyone loves to be PC, I will be referring to Black people as Chocolate, white people as Vanilla and those inbetween as Caramel. To every other race, I shall refer to you as the pastry.



When it comes to Chocolate ladies, it is rather easy to tell if they like you, most likely because they are either grinding the shit out of your skinny jeans or probably because they've told you. I mean it's a beautiful thing, Chocolate lovers are upfront about what they want and they are not afraid to go for it. Caramel ladies have got it down though, they throw you a hint here and there, lick their lips at the precise moment their lips need licking, dance close enough so you can make a move and give you just enough resitance so you can push back and not fall on your ass, unless it's that ghetto Caramel - then it will cut a bitch. Ah, now the Vanilla, they somehow know how to get you interested and when you are they act like they're not but somehow they keep you around. It's like a game of cat and mouse but you're constantly exchanging roles, or so you would think because the Vanilla is always in charge. She knows what she wants and thus she knows what do to do to make what she wants want her right back. With pastries, flip a three-sided coin and hope one of these approaches works - if you want to play it safe, go for the Caramel approach.



Now, the above types of flirting can be applied to anything involving these type of women and men. When kissing, when dating, when in bed, Chocolate knows what she wants and will get her way (though one would be surprised as to how conservative certain choclate vixens can be under the sack), Caramel is always teasing and surprising you, getting the timimng right of basically everything, and if she ghetto, you lucky she aint cut ya yet, then the Vanilla, who makes you feel like you're getting what you want when it's actually what she wants, when you think you're about to leave - she makes you stay and you never can get into her head. Then, the pastries, I love you guys, you're cool too... Never know what to expect from these freaks, just keep your guard up.



So, you see ladies, it's not that I prefer one race over another. It just depends on the mood and most times I'm looking to get mindfucked. It's like mushrooms, the most beautiful and colourful are always the most posoinous. Also, I would love to have little caramel babies one day, running around with their puffy afros and green little eyes, with their big ass... lips and eloquent speech. Shit, they're gonna take over the world, I mean it's only evolution.

But on the real though, Stereotypes aren't cool - everyone is an individual and you should only ever use stereotypes on the internet or in a bar (See, I'm not a total Douche). As always, home with you.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

One year and a day ago.

Alot has happened in one year and a day.

I've grown a little, I've discovered youth and fear. I've lost friends, I've gained memories. I figured out what women want but I've forgotten what exactly that was so I'm back at square one. Apparently I became a man though I'm not quite sure what that entails except for the loss of my foreskin (More on that in a later blog), I've fallen for a girl again then I fell out of my falling for her and I am currently in the process of finding a new lady to fall for. My writings and scribblings put some money in my pocket for the first time though that money dissappeared all too quickly. I've made mistakes but I'm not quite sure what I learnt from them. I swam naked in the ocean and danced to "Gravity" whilst wearing a suit with a lovely lady close to my body, I've learnt that people are waiting for a slow song all their lives so they can have a reason to touch. I've learnt how to touch, with purpose. I've learnt how to dance with meaning and how to love without feeling. I discovered poetry, again.

I can't tell if it's been a successful year. What makes a successful year? Is it if the successes outweigh the failures, or is it if you have one splendid, grand moment of success or is just making it through the year alive? Is being alive a success or are there certain things that need to be accomplished whilst alive to make it a success? Does a conglomeration of successful years bring about a successful life. Do I ask too many questions?

I think i definitely ask too many questions but that is because I think too much and don't write enough. So here it is, after this year away from Home with you I have learnt that I don't write enough. So I am making a pact with the internet (because the internet and I are tight like that), we shall consider a blood pact and these words shall act as the spilled blood.

I, Xabiso Vili, vow to write on this blog at least once a week and if I violate this contract by not writing I shall lose my sanity. I give you my word.

So to those who care and to those who don't, to those reading this and to those that are not (I think this incorporates the entirety of humanity) on this day, I, Xabiso Vili, took a pact of blood words.

Word!
Til next time,
Thanks for coming folks
and remember:
"Bitch, we keep it cut throat"