Joy’s Rant List, Volume 49: Sex Packets, Part 4-A: Sex, Lies & Videotape

In case you forgot… Yadda yadda yadda – None of this is me. Yadda yadda yadda – Remember “a hit dog hollers”.  This time, names from the ghetto-classic movie “Baby Boy” will be used because this is some stupid ish they would do.  LOL!  

SEX

“And so Jerry said they argued all the way to the hospital! He was driving slower than normal so he could keep laughing at them!“  Taraji continued to regale Tyrese with the crazy ambulance adventures of her cousin Jerry.

“And you’re saying this guy got beads stuck up his behind and he didn’t know?” Tyrese was cracking up laughing, any pity long gone.

“Yes! And then he got mad at his wife for putting them in there! Apparently she made them herself. Do-it-yourself anal beads?  Who does that?” Taraji finished pouring the wine and moved to join Tyrese on the couch.  “But his partner tried to post the whole thing on WorldStar.com and got fired.  Idiot.”

“Yeah, that was dumb.” Tyrese positioned himself to allow Taraji to cuddle into his side.  He grabbed the remote and started the movie.  This was a monthly ritual for them – wine, popcorn, chocolate and a vintage adult movie.  Tonight, it was Debbie Does Dallas. “You know, this was the first porno I ever saw,” Tyrese told her. “I was twelve years old, and I snuck it out of my dad’s stash.  He beat me good when he found out.” He said.

“Really? Well then, this is like a reunion of sorts for you.” Taraji said.  “And twelve? Wow, you’ve been nasty for a long time!”  She giggled and snuggled closer to him.

“Yeah, but you like it.” He pulled her legs onto his lap and began caressing her calves while the movie played. One thing led to another and they finished the night with another monthly ritual – sex throughout the house. As Taraji went to clean up, Tyrese decided it was the right time to test out his new idea. When she returned to the couch, he cleared his throat. “You know, babe, this is one of my favorite things that we do.  Something about watching the movie and then getting with you just takes it to another level.”

“I feel the same.” Taraji said. “At first this used to feel so taboo, but now I like it.  See, you turned me out, you nasty boy.” She playfully swatted him on the butt.

“You know what would take this to an even higher level?” Taraji looked confused, but Tyrese continued, “If we could watch ourselves on movie night.” He paused to let the implications sink in with her.

“What do you mean watch our- OH! You, uh, you want to make a movie?” There was incredulity and a little fear in her voice.

“Think about it, T. What could be better than watching your gorgeous body while I’m inside your gorgeous body?” Tyrese reinforced his words with a soft squeeze to her hips and a gentle kiss that soon turned heated.

Taraji gave in to the kiss for a minute, but then shoved at his chest. “Wait – We need to talk about this! You can’t just say ‘Let’s make a movie’ and then not elaborate! I’m not sure I’m down with this Tyrese.”  Taraji moved to a sitting position and straightened her clothes again.  “I’m fine with all the other kinky stuff we do, but movies are permanent.  What happens if we get divorced? Who gets the movie?  What happens if there’s a break-in?  What if the thieves sell it on eBay?” She gasped “What if we end up on WorldStar?!?!?!”  She started to hyperventilate just a bit.

The discussion went on well to the break of dawn. Taraji had decided to craft an agreement of sorts with Tyrese for how the filming would be handled. At that point, Tyrese was willing to agree to anything so she would shut up and he could just go to sleep.

“Okay, so here are the rules.” By 4:00 AM, Taraji was in full lawyer mode. “One – No sharing of this video. Ever.  Not with anyone but me.  Two – Nobody else knows we did this. Ever.  Three – If I don’t like the way I look, we have to erase it.  Four – This is the only movie we will ever make – You ain’t turning me into an amateur porn star.  Five – No third parties!”  Taraji looked down her nose at him with her best serious face.  “And I mean that, Tyrese.”

“Okay, okay – That’s all fine with me.” He sighed. “Anything else?”

“I have a list of songs we can use for background music.”

* Top of the World – Menace II Society Soundtrack; Lick – Triple X Soundtrack; Perfect Match – School Daze Soundtrack; Crown Royal – Jill Scott

(*These actually would make a good soundtrack for a movie or a ‘dance’.  Check them out if you’re interested.)

“Okay, great, we can put those on repeat while we are filming. Cool?”  Tyrese was beginning to think he didn’t even want to do this anymore, because she was taking all the fun out of his idea.

“And I need a month to get ready.” Taraji said.

“A month!?! What the hell for?” Tyrese was flabbergasted. “It’s just a video, and nobody is gonna see it but us.  What do you need to do to get ready for that?”

“I need to get my hair done – you know she stays booked up. And I need a manicure.  And pedicure…” Taraji droned on and on until Tyrese was just staring off into space.

“– And you need to hit the gym.” She finished.

“Wait – what? Why?” Tyrese was confused – and a little hurt.  Did she think he was getting fat?  He thought he looked fine.  All his clothes fit.  What was the issue?  “What’s wrong with me that I gotta go to the gym?”

“I’m just sayin’, boo. We both need to get a little tighter.  The camera adds 10 lbs, you know.  I’m telling you the truth because I love you.”  She said.  She blew him a kiss and jumped up from the couch.  “I’m gonna go download our playlist.  Oh!  And one more question?  Can I just keep my normal close fade or do I have to get a Brazilian?  Are we doing vintage or new age?”

Tyrese hesitated. “Uh… Well would you mind doing new age? I just think you will like it better on screen.” He gave her his best charming smile, hoping she would just go with it.

Taraji stabbed him with a piercing look. “Okay fine.  But if I’m gonna do it, then you’re gonna do it too.  I’d like to see you get YOUR pubic hairs ripped from the root ‘for the look’.”

“Baby, I’m a man. Real men don’t get Brazilians.”  Tyrese smiled smugly at her.

“Maybe not, but porn stars do. And that’s what you want to be, right? Long Dong Silver? Big Rock Obama?”  She kept staring at him until he reluctantly agreed.

“I’ll shave, but I ain’t getting no damn Brazillian.” Tyrese said – which was all Taraji wanted to achieve.

LIES

The next Saturday, Taraji met her best friend Monique at the spa. They were there to get mani-pedis… and one Brazilian. “Girl, I just don’t understand why you doin’ this. Are you nuts?  You ‘bout to be scratching for days.” Monique cast a sympathetic glance at Taraji from over the nail table.  “What’s the big deal anyway?  Is it his birthday or something?”

“Something like that.” Taraji hedged. She averted her eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Okay, just tell me what the hell is going on. You’ve been acting crazy since we got here.  And you’ve NEVER done this before.  It’s not his birthday, not an anniversary… What IS it?” Monique said.

“You promise not to tell?” Taraji eyed her nervously. “We both promised not to tell anyone so you can’t ever let him know that I told you!”

“Yes! I swear on a stack of bibles – now spill it.” Monique leaned in to hear the news. “….Tyrese wants to make a sex tape.” Taraji rushed it out in one breath.

There was a full beat of stunned silence before Monique burst out laughing. “Ooh, child!  That is too much!  Who are you, Kim Kardashian?  You betta tell Ray J to find another fool!”  By this time Monique was yelling and people were beginning to stare.  Taraji grabbed her friend and pulled her into the hallway to finish explaining.  When she did, all Monique had to say was: “See, that’s why you’re married and I’m not.  But, er, uh… when you make your debut on Worldstar, ‘Paris Hilton’, I will be sure to tell everyone I knew you before you blew up!  So, you ‘bout to get stripped clean for some amateur hour, huh?” Monique continued to giggle.

They finished their their spa treatments, and then the big moment arrived. “Stay with me, Mo’. I’m scared.” Taraji reached for Monique’s arm and walked towards the waxing room.

Monique snatched her arm back. “Uh – hell no! We’ve been friends for a long-ass time but what AIN’T about to happen is me getting up close and personal with your coochie.  That’s an extra hell naw! I’ll see you on the other side, R Kelly!”

Meanwhile… At the gym…

“Man, this is the fourth week straight you been in here lifting like a maniac. You gettin’ all cut up.  What you doing, dude?  You on that Herba-Life or something?”  Omar asked, while spotting Tyrese.

“Nah man, just trying to get tightened up for something soon.” Tyrese went into his fourth set of bench presses.

“For what? It’s a nekkid beach party going on that I don’t know about?” said Omar.

“Something like that.” Tyrese fell into silent reps while Omar stood over him.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Omar broke down. “Okay for real, tho.  You in here every damn day for a month, looking like you fresh out the joint, talking about some nekkid party that I’M not invited to.  How you gon’ do me like that, son?  You out getting your freak on and you ain’t sharing?” Omar set the bar back into the cradle and picked up some free weights.  “I mean, I’m pumped.  I’m getting cut.  I got money.  Why you holding out?”  He continued to complain through his set.

“Nah, it’s not like that at all. I got something going with the wife. You know I don’t cheat.” Tyrese moved over to the leg press.

“Ohhh… Y’all making a sex tape?”

Tyrese missed his rhythm and let the weights slam back down into place. “How the hell do you know about that??!?!” he sputtered.

“I didn’t. Ha!  You just told me!”  Omar gloated at his cleverness.  “Man, every time somebody gets the bright idea to do a sex tape, the first thing they do is run up in the gym trying to get cut.  Plus, you been scratching your nuts like crazy. Either you got an STD or razor bumps.  Ha-ha!  She made you shave!  Am I right?” Omar laughed at the face Tyrese made.  “But how in the hell did you get Taraji to agree to that?  She lose a bet or something?”

“No, it was – look, don’t tell her that you know about this okay? Nobody is supposed to know.  I swore I wouldn’t tell.”  Tyrese gave his mouthy friend a killing glare.

“Technically, you didn’t tell me. I’m smart.  I figured it out.” Omar countered.  “Do you even know what you’re doing?  You got enough lighting?  Most rooms are too dark to film a movie.  You need a white background.  What about the camera?  YO! Can I work the camera?!?!  C’mon dawg!”

“Aw hell naw. You trippin’!  Ain’t no way I’d let you or anybody else up in that room.  With my wife?!  You high or something?  Don’t make me beat your ass, O.”  Tyrese finished his set and gathered his things to leave.  “And you better NEVER say anything about this to ANYONE.  Keep.  Your mouth.  SHUT.” And with that, he walked off… only to return a few moments later.  “Uh, what do you mean about the lighting?”

VIDEOTAPE (Or DVD/BLUE RAY for the youngsters)

The following weekend, it was time to film. Tyrese had been doing extra crunches and pushups all week. Taraji hadn’t eaten in 38 hours and had gotten her hair done that morning.  They were filming in the bedroom, which now looked like some Arabian Nights fantasy.  Billowy white sheets had been hung on all the walls so that it could have a more fantasy-like feel.  Tyrese had also brought in all the lamps from the guest room and took the shades off, to brighten up the scene. No grainy film on this shoot! He thought.

“Okay! You ready?” Taraji came into the room in a red satin robe that she’d bought just for this occasion.

“Oh yeah, baby. Let’s do this.”  And with that, Tyrese picked up the camera and turned on the iPod to play their “video mix”.  The bass line for Top of the World came on.  Taraji approached the bed slowly. “Do a little strip tease for me. Touch yourself.”  Tyrese immediately got into the role of director.  Taraji paused and gave him a confused look.  “Come on baby,” he said.  “Do it for the vine!”

She laughed and started to give him a little dance, undressing in her best sex kitten fashion. Soon things were getting heated.  Taraji came toward him and started to play with his package.  As she got down to business, she looked up to see him playing with the buttons on the camera.  Even worse – he wasn’t getting hard.  “Uh, ‘Reese?  What the hell, man?”  She backed up to look at him quizzically.

“My bad baby – I’m too focused on getting this camera to work. Start again.  But look at the camera the whole time, like they do in the movies.”  She began again, giving him what he asked for.  This time he responded.  After a few minutes of fellatio, he had more directions for her. “Okay. Now lay back and pull up your legs.”  As she did as asked, he tried to enter her, guiding himself with one hand while trying to get the camera angled correctly with the other.

All of a sudden a hand came across the screen out of nowhere.  He looked up to see Taraji glaring at him. “Hey punk! Quid pro quo, you know the drill. How you gon’ try to bang when I’m not even ready yet?”

“Oh! Sorry baby.  I’ve got my hands full with the camera.  But check this out.  I bought you a Rabbit, so you could do yourself.  That way, you can enjoy yourself and I can film it and get in good and close!”  Tyrese leaned over into the nightstand and pulled out a dildo with a quivering attachment.

“I’ve never used that.” She started to sit up.  He stopped her with a plea in his eyes. “Oh come on, T! Just a few shots to get the view I want, and then I promise I will never bring it up again!”  He gave her his best puppy dog eyes.  “Pleeeeeeezzee!!!”

She reluctantly agreed and grabbed the Rabbit.  She fumbled with it and gave an exasperated sigh.  “How do you do this?”  She handed it back to him to turn on, and then accepted the twitchy quivering machine from him.  She paused again.  “Are you sure?” She asked.  She wasn’t, but she was going to trust him on this.  At his nod, She leaned back and started playing with it.  And whaddya know?  It wasn’t half bad.   It wasn’t long before she was wet.

“Okay, slide it in, baby. Good.  Just like that.  Turn the vibrator part off.”  Tyrese was working with the zoom function, and not noticing the look of defiance on Taraji’s face.  She pretended to ignore him and left it on, continuing her newfound rhythm. “Okay.  Keep going.  Push it all the way – yeah like that.  Now flip over and use it doggie style.  Yeah.  Wait that buzz sound is going to be on film.   Just turn the vibrator part off.”  He insisted again.

“I can’t,” Taraji panted. “I don’t know how…You just hurry up and film what you want.”  She continued to use both parts of the toy.

Tyrese returned to director mode. “Okay now lay back and open your legs. Right.  That’s perfect!  Keep stroking like that.  Okay now – wait don’t close your legs.  Spread them again. …Stop clenching!  T spread your –”

“Aaaahhaaaahahhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuhhhhuuuhhhh…” Taraji came harder than she had in a decade, and promptly passed out.

 

STAY TUNED FOR THE CONCLUSION NEXT FRIDAY! I know, I left you (and Tyrese) hanging, but this was too long for one post.  I promise to wrap this up next week!!  Muah!! And I’m out! 

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Joy’s Rant List: Volume 48: Sex Packets, Part 3: Birthday Sex

A reminder before we begin…

Okay, I will tell you that I totally made this one up.  So if a piece of it sounds familiar then you REALLY need to be quiet because you absolutely don’t want people to think that “a hit dog hollers” applies to you!!!  Character names from “Brown Sugar” will be used because I am digging my own trend here. 

 

BIRTHDAY SEX!!!

 

MOTIVATED MONDAY:

“I mean, c’mon, Dad!  How am I supposed to get over this?!  It was in my PHONE!!!” Trey’s voice was high-pitched and traumatized – because he was.  Andre had to try to help his ex-wife do some damage control here.

“Well, son, your mother is a grown woman, and you can’t fault her for trying to find a little happiness here and there.  Was it a dumb thing to do? Yes.  But you can’t continue to hold this against her.  It’s been a few weeks now, and she is so worried about you.  Cut her some slack.” Inside, he was still dying laughing over what had happened. Apparently, his ex-wife had done some ‘sexting’ and gotten caught by their son.  “It’s not like you and I haven’t done similar things.  Tell me you’ve never sent a dick shot to your girl.”

“That’s different!  Mom is… She’s… She’s OLD!!  And, she’s MY MOM!!!”  Trey continued to defend his outrage.

“Not hardly old, and you gotta admit… Your moms keeps it tight.  It ain’t like she’s hard to look at.” If there was one thing Andre would never deny about his ex-wife, it was that she was fine as hell.  Crazy! But fine.  “Hey, why don’t you show me those pics so I can see how bad it is for myself!” Andre burst out laughing.

“Not cool Dad.” Trey heaved another long-suffering sigh into the phone, the one that only angst-ridden teens can pull off.  “I guess I’ll call her –  later. Bye Dad.”  *click*  The call ended.

While Andre was musing over the antics of his ex-wife, his new wife was listening at the door to the bedroom.  Sidney wasn’t happy to hear that her husband still thought his ex “kept it tight.”  Why was he even thinking about her!?!  And then, to ask to see the pictures!  What!?!  She’d sent him pictures of herself just last month.  Was he starting to miss his ex?  Calm down, Syd, she warned herself.  You are overthinking it.  But still…

Sidney hurriedly found something else to be doing as Andre exited the bedroom.  “Oh hey, honey.  Is Trey alright?” She gave him her best ‘concerned step mom’ face. 

“Oh.  Yeah.  He’ll be fine.  He’s just been playing the victim for too long.” He stretched, cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders – all signs of tension.

Syd moved behind him to rub his shoulders.  “You need to relax a little, Dre.  Why all the stress?” She continued to work out kinks in his neck.  He moaned in appreciation.

“It’s just a lot of stuff at work. You know.  The usual.   I really don’t need this nonsense with Nia and Trey right now.  Oh and hey, the guys are taking me out for my birthday on Friday.  So I’ll be home late.  I’m telling you now so you can’t get mad.”  Syd was crazy too, but at least it was a crazy he could deal with. 

“Sure.  Have a good time out.  And when you get home, I’ll have my own little surprise for you!” Sidney let her voice drop to a sultry whisper. 

“Oh really?” Andre turned around and pulled her into a quick kiss. “Well then I’ll be sure to be home in time to enjoy that!”  And with that, he turned to leave for the gym. 

Great…  So now Syd had to figure out exactly what she was going to do for him on Friday.  She was really just talking junk when she’d said it.  And considering that she had already sent him sexy pictures, AND that his EX was doing stuff like that now, she had to step up her game.  What could she do? Obviously he wanted some kind of mind-blowing birthday sex.  What to do, what to do… “To the internet!” She proclaimed, in her best batman voice.

After dozens of failed searches that all ended back at some website called “Pornhub”, Sidney finally found what she was looking for – an article titled “10 Daring Sex Moves to Surprise Your Man!”  This sounded promising. 

“Hmm.  Analingus… Hell no… Handcuffs… Did that… Pole Dancing… Too regular… Threesome… Hell no…” Sidney went down the list rejecting the suggestions one by one.  Finally, she got to one she thought had promise.  “Anal beads?  Maybe… “  She clicked on the link.

Lo and behold, there was an entire Wikipedia page dedicated to anal beads.  Sidney got all the information she needed.  The web entry detailed the differences in sizes, shapes, uses, care and maintenance.  Everything all in one spot.  Thanks Wikipedia!!  There was even information on how to make them.  Great!  A quick stop at Michaels craft store, and she would be set. 

 

FREAKY FRIDAY:

“Man, I gots ta go!” Andre tried to leave for the second time.  His friends had stopped buying him drinks an hour ago, and he was getting tired.  Not that he was getting old or anything; this was only his 39th birthday.  He wasn’t the dreaded 4-0 yet.  “The wifey is waiting on me at home. And I love you guys, but I ain’t missing out on none of that for none of y’all!  Peace!”  And with that, Andre left his friends at the bar and headed to the crib. 

Upon entering the house he found soft music, dim lights, and candles all around. “Hello… Sidney?  Where you at baby?”  He called out to her.

“Right here, love.”   Sidney came out in a silk kimono-style robe.  She slid up behind him and helped him take his coat off.  “Did you have fun with the boys?”

“Yeah – but not as much fun as I’m about to have.  Come here, girl!” He grabbed her around the waist and started kissing her.  She kissed him back and things started getting heavy quickly.  Syd broke the kiss.

“Wait, baby, I’ve got something special planned for you.”  She gave him her best come-hither look and walked towards the bedroom.

“Aww yeah!” Andre started stripping in the hallway.  Shirt off, pants around his ankles, he shuffled up behind her to let his hands roam over her body.  She turned into his arms and started kissing down his chest, following the trail of sparse hairs to his waist.  Yes!! Do it! That was all he could think.  He noticed her hands behind her back and started to ask her about it, but then…  She did that thing with her tongue and “Oh yeah, baby.  I love it when you do that!”  He bent over to reach down and caress her breasts.  She reached around and gripped his hips, setting the rhythm she wanted.  Birthday blow job!  Yes!  He couldn’t be happier!  He loved it when she did this.  He would gladly turn 40 tomorrow if he got this again!  He reached back down to run his hands over her curves.  She was soooo good.  “Baby, I’m about to come.” He felt the orgasm reaching for him, and then –

Pop!

“What the fuck?!?!?!” He just felt something… come OUT… of his ass. 

Andre jerked straight up and tried to feel behind him.  “What the hell was that?!?!” Sidney kept slapping his hands away.

“They’re anal beads.  Stop trying to pull them out – you’re going to hurt yourself.  Just relax and enjoy it, baby.”  Sidney was still on her knees in front of him, giving his shaft gentle licks.  “Trust me.”

How could he do anything but trust her at this point?  “When did you even put them in there?”  How in the hell had he not felt her putting beads in his butt?!? 

“The last time you bent over, I just slipped them in.” She gave his dick a long drawn out pull.  “Now just relax (lick) and let me do my thing (lick).”  She went back to the task at hand.  Andre tried to relax, but his muscles kept clinching.  Not too much later, though, her magic tongue had him back at the point of orgasm.  His legs started shaking… almost there…

Pop!

Another bead came out!  And his orgasm was gone again?  How was she doing that?  Wait… so when he got ready to come, she pulled out a bead, and he could keep getting head? “Okay!  I see where this is going!  Do your thing, girl!” He relaxed a little more.  And sure enough a few minutes later, he started to tremble.  This time he was with it.  “Get ready to pull… oh… oh…”

Pop!

And he was back in the zone.  Hot damn! As long as her jaw didn’t get tired, he was going to let her do this for as long as she wanted.  It was the blow job of a lifetime! He was loving it!  Sidney was working him out and getting him back to the point of orgasm for the fourth time.  Wow!  This was great! “Get ready to pull, baby…”  His orgasm built, but this time, she didn’t pull out a bead.  Her jaw must have been getting tired after all.  But still – “Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”  He came so hard his legs almost gave out on him, but somehow Syd kept him standing up.

“I’m sorry baby.  I tried to warn you.  You good?” He was more than good but the look on her face said something was wrong.  “What’s wrong, baby?”  He reached out to caress the frown from her forehead.

“Umm… Turn around…” Sidney gently turned him and started to probe his backside.  He was done with the ass play for now so he hustled back around to face her.

“What’s wrong? Tell me now.” Something had her worried.

“Well… um…”  She held up the string of anal beads.  There were three beads on a long length of thread.

“Those were the beads?” he asked.

“…Some of them.”  She gave him a sheepish look and dangled the long empty end of the string.  “I think the other four are still in there.”

WHAT?!?!” Andre chased his tail in a circle, like a puppy, trying to see into his own ass.  “Well get them OUT!”  He started to hyperventilate.

“What do you think I was doing?!” Sidney sounded anguished.  “I guess the knot I tied in the end came loose.”

“The knot you… you MADE these? With what?”  Andre was about to pass out from fright.

“I found instructions online and made them with plastic beads and thread I got from Michaels the other day. I tested them twice, and they didn’t come apart.  I followed the instructions perfectly.  You just kept clinching up.  I told you to relax.”  An accusatory note had snuck into Sidney’s tone.

“Call 911.  Get. These. Out!” Andre was furious!  All he had wanted was a little head and maybe some sex for his birthday, but instead he had four – FOUR – plastic beads up his behind.  Worst. Birthday. Ever.

“I’m not calling 911.  Let’s just think this through.  You can probably pass them pretty easily.  I mean they are right there at the end.”  Sidney’s analytical mind was coming to the forefront.  “Maybe I can run to the store and get you a laxative.”

“That will take hours.  I want these out right now.  I could be getting trauma to my rectum or something.  You and your crazy notions.”  Andre reached down into his pants and got out his cell, dialing 911 immediately. “Hello!  I have an emergency.  I need an ambulance…  Yes, I can hold.”…

30 MINUTES LATER

The two ambulance techs entered the house.

“What exactly seems to be the problem ma’am.” Asked the first EMT guy.

“My husband has anal—“

“I’ve had a trauma situation happen to me.” Andre looked the EMT straight in his eyes.  “I need to go to the hospital and have… surgery.”

“Sir, you don’t seem to be in any imminent danger, so I need to know what has happened here” the EMT replied.  Andre stared at him in stone-faced silence. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Dre!  They are professionals!  I’m sure they’ve had someone else get anal beads stuck before.”

The silence was deafening as the EMTs looked at Andre, and Andre just looked straight ahead at the wall. The first EMT broke the awkward silence.

“Sir, an ambulance ride is expensive. If that’s all, you could just drive to the hospital or try to take a laxative – “

“That’s what I told him!” interjected Sidney.

“You shut up!” Andre pointed a threatening finger at Sidney.  Then he turned it on the first tech. “And you.  Take me to the hospital.  NOW.”   Andre started waddling towards the door.  The second EMT blocked his path.  “Move!” Andre hissed back at him.

“Sir, if you want us to take you, you have to ride on the stretcher.  That’s the rule” said the second EMT.  Andre stopped and tried to stare him down.  The EMT waited with a blank facial expression. 

Then, with as much dignity as a man with beads stuck in his anus could muster, he stretched out face down on the stretcher.  “Let’s go, and you better put on lights and sirens to get me there IMMEDIATELY!” 

Flashing red lights and a stretcher cause a commotion in any neighborhood, and all of their neighbors had come out to see what happened. 

“Is he alright?”

“What happened?”

“Did he have a heart attack?”

“Why is he face-down?”

Sidney ignored all the questions and entered the back of the vehicle with the second EMT while the first one drove off.  She placed her hand on Andre’s shoulders.  “It will be alright, baby –“

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Andre turned his head away from her and the EMT.  “All of this is your fault.”

“Well if you had quit choking up and just relaxed like I told you –“

“If YOU had just let me get some regular head and bust one out, I would have been perfectly happy! But no!  Now I have homemade beads up my ass!  And now I have to go to the hospital!”  Andre fumed.

“You didn’t have to go to the hospital!” reasoned Sidney. “We could have gotten those beads out with an enema or something –“

“NO!  I need surgery!”  Andre had passed over from rational land to crazy town.

They argued all the way to the hospital.

“You were loving it until the end!” screamed Sidney

“I never asked you to put anything in my butt, woman!” Andre yelled back as the stretcher was unloaded. “We will NEVER speak of this.  Do you hear me?  NEVER!”  Andre continued to rant and rave at Sidney as the stretcher was pushed into the hospital by the first EMT…

 

 

…The second EMT reached for the camera phone he had quietly positioned in back of the ambulance and directed it to himself.  He yelled out “WORLD STAR!!!”  before pushing the send button…

 

Stay tuned for Part 4: Sex, Lies and Videotape.

 

 

Joy’s Rant List, Volume 47: Sex Packets Part 2: “Sex Selfies”

You know, I’m really starting to feel this whole ‘short story’ angle.  Maybe I’ll make these into a book, finally…

A reminder before we begin…

All of these events happened, to SOMEBODY, and NOT ME.  So, if a piece of it sounds familiar, “a hit dog hollers” – remember that.  This time, celebrity names from Love Jones will be used to protect the stupid innocent.

Sex Selfies

“So there I was, on the curb, no panties on, waiting on the damn Uber car to show up, people all looking out the windows.  I felt like such a whore!!”  Monica wailed in her sister’s ear.  (Read part 1 for the full story)

That’s because you were being a whore, stupid… Nia made a face at the phone, thinking that her baby sister was never going to grow up.  Who tries a one-night stand in their mid-thirties?!  It seemed like every couple of months, Monica, who was 8 years her junior, was into something else regrettable.  One week it was some new church cult.  Next week, it was pole dancing for “exercise”, and now it’s being a freak in the club?  And she didn’t even get any?  Stoo-pid!!!

At 44, with a kid in college, Nia had long since learned her lesson about these types of antics.  She was so over the club scene and would never even think of going home with a stranger.  She had no pity for her sister, who clearly knew better.  They were raised in the same house.  And although Nia was now divorced, and they were both in the same ‘single’ boat again, there were just some lines you didn’t cross.  “You could have been murdered, fool!”

“I know!” cried Monica. “What if I see some of those people again?  How am I supposed to walk around town, knowing what people think of me?”

“The same way the other whores walk around town…”  This cracked Nia up and she started a deep belly laugh and had to put the phone down.  When she picked it up, it was to hear stony silence on the other end.  “Hello? Monica?”

“I hate you.” And then the line went dead.  Sigh.  Whatever.  Nia had better things to do than to heal her crazy sister’s damaged psyche.  Still, it was her baby sister.  She felt bad and started to call her back – but then came a text:

WHAT ARE YOU DOING, BEAUTIFUL?

Nia’s heart skipped a beat.  It was Darius – the tall, dark and mysterious dude from BlackFolksTalk.com!  She got a little excited.  He was reaching out to her again!!

NOT MUCH.  YOU?

She didn’t want to seem overeager.  But she was so glad he’d contacted her!  After going through the steps on the matching website, they’d had a couple of good conversations.  Then all of a sudden, she didn’t hear from Darius for 6 days.  Not that she was counting or anything…

SITTING HERE THINKING ABOUT YOU.  I MISS TALKING TO YOU.

She smiled secretly to herself.  He was such a sweet man.

REALLY? YOU ARE SO SWEET!

NOT AS SWEET AS YOU.

Oh, this man was definitely a charmer.  She was crafting a flirty text back when the phone rang.  It was Monica again.

“Hello.”  She sooooo did not want to engage Monica right now.

“How come you didn’t call me back!?” Monica sounded both victimized and confused.  See, this was the problem with passive aggressive behavior.  Both people had to participate for it to work.  And as of this moment, Nia wasn’t having it anymore.

“Girl, I had another call come in.  Do you still want to talk or what?”

“I just don’t know what to do! What if I go out and I see Morris there again?!” Monica was starting to freak out.  Her voice had gone up an octave.

“You will probably never see him again.  Just don’t go to that club.”  Nia tried to be the voice of reason.

HELLO?  ARE YOU STILL THERE?

Darius was texting again!

YES – JUST GOT A QUICK PHONE CALL.

Wait – that might make him think she was busy and he might go away.  She quickly typed:

BUT I’M DONE NOW.  I’M ALL YOURS.

That was a little flirty.  Yes!  Perfect!  Not too aggressive, but definitely showing interest.

OH REALLY?

“—even know whose penis that was!  How am I supposed to face myself in the mirror—“ Monica was still yammering on about her own stupidity.

“Mmmhmm.  I feel you girl…” Monica did the standard responses, while focusing on her text conversation.

WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?

What was she wearing?  Oh, he wanted to play a little bit!  Well – it was kind of a shock but she was definitely not a prude.  And it wasn’t like she was about to have a threesome like her stupid sister.  But honestly, she was wearing old sweatpants and an over-sized t-shirt that said “My son is a freshman at Hillman College”.  Not exactly sexy…

BOY SHORTS AND A T-SHIRT

That sounded believable right?  Without being too nasty?  That could be sexy and innocent, yeah?

SOUNDS SEXY.  (Yes!)

SEND ME A PIC?

A picture?  He wanted a picture?!  Shit!  She didn’t even really own any boy shorts.  What to do?

ACTUALLY, I LIED.  I DON’T HAVE ON BOY SHORTS

OH YEAH? SO JUST A T-SHIRT THEN?

…Who was she to disabuse his notions?

YES. A LITTLE INDECENT.  CAN’T SEND PICTURES.  Her good girl was coming to the forefront.  She wasn’t the type to send pictures anyway.

TAKE A PIC FOR ME.  I WANT TO SEE YOU.

Well… seems like everyone else in the world was doing it.  What could it hurt?  She would just snap a quick picture, not showing anything.

HANG ON…

She went to the bathroom, slapped on a little lipstick and shook out her hair, and then pulled off the sweatpants, leaving just the t-shirt.  She took the pic and hit “Send”. Then she waited…

WOW. YOU LOOK GREAT.  I LIKE A WOMAN THAT IS COMFORTABLE IN HER OWN SKIN.

Well that was nice of him.

THANK YOU. 

SO WHAT’S UNDER THE SHIRT?  SHOW ME.

NO!  Okay, he was going too far.  No way was she taking a naked picture of herself and sending it to him.

WHY NOT?  I WANT TO SEE YOU.  WE LIVE IN DIFFERENT CITIES. IF I CAN’T TOUCH YOU, AT LEAST LET ME SEE YOU.

I’VE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE.  I DON’T FEEL COMFORTABLE

YOU CAN TRUST ME.  I WOULD NEVER DISRESPECT YOU.  I PROMISE

Yeah right.  Thirty minutes and she would be the latest feature on HotGhettoMess.com

I DON’T THINK SO.

PLEASE?

NO.

WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?

I’M AFRAID THAT I WILL END UP ALL OVER THE INTERNET.  NOT GOING THERE, DARIUS.

TELL YOU WHAT – JUST SEND ME NECK DOWN.  THAT WAY EVEN IF I WAS SOME KIND OF PERVERT, NO ONE COULD PROVE IT WAS YOU.

LOL! NICE TRY!  I DON’T THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA, THOUGH.

There was a long silence from his end.  Did he decide to stop texting her?  Well hell, if that’s all he was interested in, then good riddance!  She didn’t need a man that bad anyway to be sending nekkid body shots through the internet and –

WHAT DO YOU THINK?  I WENT FIRST.

There was an attachment in the text.  Nia opened it and –gasp! – He had sent her a picture of himself from the neck down.  Totally. NAKED.  Wow.  He had a great body!  Ev-er-y-where!!  Caramel brown and flawless!  Now she was a little self-conscious about her own figure.

WOW.  YOU ARE GORGEOUS.  NOW I DON’T THINK I CAN COMPETE! LOL! 

She tried to laugh it off, hoping he would let it go.

OH NO.  I DID THAT JUST SO YOU WOULD KNOW THAT I WAS SERIOUS.  AND NOW YOU HAVE LEVERAGE OVER ME.  SO GO AHEAD.  SHOW ME.

Could she?  It was crazy!  She had just talked about her sister like a dog for crazy behavior.  But, you only live once, right?  Before she could think too much about it, Nia hiked up her t-shirt and took a quick picture of herself in the mirror.  Oh God!  Did she really just do that?  “Send”.

WOW, YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL BODY.  I BET YOU TASTE LIKE BROWN SUGAR.

Okay, this man was too much!

UMM, THANKS?

WHY THE PANTIES?  YOU’RE CHEATING.  QUID PRO QUO, NIA.

Aw hell.  He wanted totally naked? She wasn’t ready for that.  She hadn’t shaved in months! (Why bother? Who’s looking?)  She looked back at his picture.  Did he shave?  Dammit, he did!

GIVE ME A MINUTE…

She ran into the bathroom and did a quick grooming job.  Quick shave and … missed a spot and… damn missed another spot… Wow, how freaking long HAD it been?!  Finally, she was smooth enough to take the picture (from a distance, anyway).  Then she jumped back into the mirror and snapped it, being careful to keep her face out of the picture.  No HotGhettoMess.com for her!!

The phone rang.  It was Monica again.  Dammit!  “Ignore”

YOU LOOK AMAZING! THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOURSELF WITH ME.  I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU.

ME TOO.  WHEN ARE YOU COMING THIS WAY?

I SHOULD BE HEADED TO PHILLY AT THE END OF –

The phone rang again.  It was Monica – again.  “Ignore”

-MAY. 

WONDERFUL.  I CAN’T WAIT! MY SON DOESN’T COME BACK FROM SCHOOL UNTIL JUNE. WE COULD SPEND SOME QUALITY TIME.

DEFINITELY.  I’M REALLY EXCITED ABOUT SEEING YOU!  GOTTA GO NOW – GOTTA PICK UP THE DAUGHTER FROM PRACTICE.  TALK TO YOU TONIGHT?

SURE. CALL ME.

Yeah – she’d played it cool.  And he was excited to see her!  Yes!  She might finally get herself some good good –

The phone rang again.  This time she picked up.  “WHAT, Monica?!  What do you want now!?”

Silence.

Then… “I just wanted to tell you that I know what you’ve been doing while you’ve ignored my calls.”

“I told you I had another call coming in –“

“Remember when you went to Germany last year, and you set up your phone to automatically upload all your pictures to the cloud so I could see them?  You never changed that…  Whore.” The level of smugness in Monica’s voice was unparalleled.

Nia stood frozen in silence.  What!?!  What had Monica seen?  “What are you talking about?” she asked, with fear in her voice.

“Umm, all those naked shots you just took?  Yeah, they’re in the cloud.  Some things you can’t un-see.  And if you had answered the damn phone, I would have told you sooner. What the hell are you doing?”

Nia hung up on Monica and quickly went through and deleted all of the bad pictures from her phone.  Then she called back. “Can you still see them now?”

“Let me see…yep.  Still there.”  She could hear the laughter bubbling up from her sister. Karma was, indeed, a bitch.

“How do I get these off the cloud?”

“I don’t know.  Why don’t you ask – gasp! – Trey!  Oh my God, Nia – Trey’s phone is on the cloud too!”

Shock spread through Nia’s body like lightning.  The thought that her SON may have seen those pictures!?!… Complete and utter disaster.  How could a young man recover from that?  Would she have ruined his image of all women – warped his young mind and poisoned all his future dealings with women?  If your own mother is taking sex selfies, then what does that say for all women?  But she was overreacting.  Maybe it wasn’t too late.  “Girl, bye!  I gotta do damage control!!”  She hung up on her sister’s snickering and called her son.

“….Hello.”

“Hey baby, it’s your mother.”

“Hey.”  He didn’t sound traumatized.  But he didn’t sound happy to hear from her either.

“I just wanted to tell you”  — THINK Nia — “That your aunt Monica called and said our cloud account got hacked, and that I need to go fix it.”

“Uh huh.” He sounded skeptical.  Oh no! What if he had seen the pictures??? Stick to the story…

“So, yeah, we got hacked.  And I need to get some crazy pictures or something off our cloud account…  How do I do that?”

“You can’t.  I’ll fix it when I come home next weekend.” Trey sounded irritated.  “I gotta go mom.”

“Okay darling.  I just wanted to make sure you didn’t think it was your aunt.”  She hated to throw her baby sister under the bus, but whatever.

“Yeah.  Seeing as those pictures are from your bathroom…”

Silence……….

“Look, Trey, I don’t know what you think you saw because I haven’t seen them yet but I –“

Mom.” He expelled a world-weary sigh. “I gotta go mom.  I’ll see you next weekend.” He hung up.

“Oh. My. God.”

 

Rant #47 done – Stay Tuned for Part 3: Birthday Sex!!

Joy’s Rant List, Volume 46: Sex Packets, Part 1 – “Throw’d Off Threesome”

A note before we begin…

1.       Hey folks!  It’s been a LONG time since I wrote anything on this blog, and here’s why:  I was tired…  Tired of fighting the good fight…  Tired of trying to combat irrationality with logic…  Tired of trying to put out an opinion and get an open dialogue…  I’ve actually written three different entries that will probably never see the light of day. Why? Because they are either too polarizing which changes nothing (i.e. wasted effort), or they are something everyone agrees, on so why just repeat popular opinion (i.e. waste of YOUR time).  I wrote something about Trayvon Martin.  I wrote something about race relations in America.  I even wrote something about sexism in corporate America, and then I realized that none of it would matter because we are in the new dark ages…  Everyone is too stupid for decent discourse, and all of my die hard supporters are just as tired of these go-nowhere conversations as I am.  So, I’m going back to my roots – Things that make you laugh at work and get you fired!

2.       EDITOR’s COMMENT:  ALL I do is edit!!  I ain’t ask for this porn to come across my desk.  However, I’ve learned to just trust Joy’s writing instincts.  Still…  Don’t read this at work!!!  Now excuse me while I go repent for Joy’s writing sins…  SMH…

And, now…  On to the fun!!!

This first installment is the story of a ‘good girl’ who tried to walk on the other side of the line.  (Almost) All of these events happened although I have taken some creative ‘mash-up’ license.  Just because it happened to someone doesn’t mean it happened to me.  LET ME SPELL IT OUT…  This is NOT ME.  As a matter of fact, it might be YOU, at which point you should really shut up.  A hit dog hollers!  Remember that, okay?  Lastly, celebrity names from “The Best Man” movie will be used, to protect the stupid innocent.

“Throw’d Off Threesome”

Monica was having the time of her life!  She was in a city where she didn’t know anyone, and she was single and ready to mingle.  At 36, she had decided it was time to start getting some of that “good good” she had only heard about or seen on HBO.  For years, she had been a ‘good girl’.  Church every Sunday…  No sex without a commitment, and then only in missionary position because her mother always said that “Doggie style is for dogs”.   Well, after years of being good and still being single, she decided to set out on a quest to answer one question:   “Was she too old to start hoeing?”

12 AM she was at the club…

There she is, out at the edge of the dance floor, looking like a soccer mom, trying too hard to blend in with the other girls.  They are twerking it for all they are worth (about $2.11) and dropping it to the floor like every man in there needed change.  Monica took in the booty gyrations and tried to imitate what she thought was happening.  Of course, having never done it before, she ended up doing something closer to the squats she had planned to do earlier at the gym.  However, she managed not to spill the Moscato in her ringless left hand – which was all Morris needed to see…

1 AM he was checking her out…

Monica searched the crowd to find a new dance move to copy and locked eyes with a FINE chocolate brother coming towards her!  All smiles, pretty white teeth, and the eyes of a wolf on the prowl.  Aha!  Just what she dreamed of catching…  Tonight she was going to find a ‘playa who knew how to play’! He stepped up behind her and leaned into her body…

“You are driving me crazy wit yo’ fine self and I just had to come over here and get close enough to touch you.  What’s your name?” He whispered to her with his lips close enough for her to feel his heat.  Her heart fluttered and she almost fell forward, but his grip on her hips stopped her before she embarrassed herself.  “Uhh…  Muh-Muh-Monica.  My name is Monica.”  She pulled herself together and attempted a flirty look over her shoulder.  “Nice to meet you” as she batted her eyes up at him.

“You too, gorgeous.” Morris began to undulate against her in time with the music.  He leaned down into her neck and inhaled. “Mmmm – Damn you smell good.  Who you here with, bae?”

“Nobody.  I mean –” She squared her shoulders and gathered her confidence.  “I’m grown.  I came here alone…”  Okay, here was the moment of truth! “…But I don’t plan to leave alone.”

OMG!  Did she just say that?  Was she insane? Who knew what type of crazy person he really was?!?  But he was OH SO fine, and she was determined to be a freak, just once in her life.  She followed up her bold statement by turning into him and grinding on his thigh.  Except she really looked crazy because she wasn’t touching him anywhere else.  Her hands were by her sides so her pelvis looked like it had been possessed by Miley Cyrus. (Poor little tink tink)…  Then again – Do you remember how you used to try to make Barbie and Ken hump when you were little, but they were too stiff to do it right?  So, you ended up just bending them forwards and backwards at the waist?  That’s what she really looked like she was doing.

Now Morris was that dude who could spot easy prey from a block away.  He’d seen her come in looking like Bambi on ice over an hour ago.  He’d spent his time wisely, checking her out to see how best to get her home with him.  He decided to go for the direct approach and see how far he could push it before he got slapped.  He started with a caress to the backside… which earned him a smile.  How about a brush against her breast?  She backed off, but then came back in and moved his hand across her breast and down to the small of her back…  Apparently, little honey had something to prove!  Perfect!  Morris went in for the kill.  He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, bent her over and banged his hips into her, nearly knocking her off balance.  Now, any woman who put up with that blatant disrespect on the dance floor clearly was looking to get ‘got’.  What would Monica do?  He backed up a couple of paces just, in case she turned around swinging.  But she didn’t!  She just stood there waiting for him.  Damn – innocent AND obedient?  This was going to be a good night!

After another 20 minutes of awkward dancing and over-the-top suggestive pelvic thrusting, Morris decided to close the deal.  He led her to the bar to buy her another Moscato before whispering seductively in her ear, “Come home with me.  You’re too sexy not to be made love to until your toes curl, gurl.” He stepped into her space, dominating her with his presence.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked hungrily into his eyes. He gave her the soulful sleepy eyes that got ‘em every time.  “Monica, I gotta have you.”  She hesitated for a minute and then nodded…

2 AM they were at his house…

Monica couldn’t believe this was happening. He was so perfect! And man, could he kiss!  His hands were everywhere and before she knew what was happening, her bra was on the floor.  Wait? How did he get her top off?  When did that happen?  Where did her skirt go? Morris walked her backwards until she bumped against the bed.  She fell onto it, and he fell on top of her.  He continued kissing and rubbing her in all the right places.  Then he started licking a trail from her breast to her navel and lower…and lower… Oh Lord!  No!  No!  She hadn’t had a shower!  And she’d been dancing all night!  No, he couldn’t – but he did!!  A gasp of terror and delight left her lips, and he used her distraction to wrap his arms around her thighs and settle in for a late night snack.  By this time, her eyes were closed, and she was thrashing back and forth in his bed. She could feel his tongue doing sinful things down there to her.  His hands were kneading her behind, and his teeth were teasing her nipple… Wait a minute.  Tongue down there… Teeth… up here…

WHAT THE FUCK?!?

3 AM he was freaking her out…

Monica opened her eyes to see another man standing over her, sucking her nipple and stroking himself.  Who the hell was he!?!  She started screaming!

Morris jumped up and covered her mouth.  “Shh.  Shh, it’s okay bae.  This is Terrence, and he just wants to make you feel good too.  Right, T?”  He turned to give his buddy a lascivious grin.

“Oh yeah, two heads are better than one, baby girl.” Terrence stepped closer to her and attempted to grab her breast.  She slapped his hand away.

“Get the fuck away from me!  I don’t even know you!”  Monica tried to muster up some righteous indignation, while sitting on this stranger’s bed butt nekkid.

Morris moved his hand between her legs and began stroking her clit again. “T’s cool.  It’s all cool girl.  You said you wanted to be crazy for one night. Well, why not go all the way?” It felt too good to stop him.  “Why have a regular one night stand when you can have a one night threesome? It will blow your mind.  Are you sure you want to stop?”  Morris kept up the assault on her senses.  He started kissing her again and pressed her back into the bed.  Terrence was standing there, watching.  Monica had a moment of indecision…  Should she just ‘roll with it’? Is this what everybody was doing?  Terrence approached the bed, and then the sensation of having both of her nipples sucked at the same time was more than she could resist.  Maybe this is what they were talking about in that Fifty Shades book.  She closed her eyes and let it happen.  A palm cupping her behind…  A tongue licking her navel…  Teeth grazing her hip…  Gentle suction on her clit…

A penis poking at her mouth…

“Uh-uh. Hell no!”  Monica started wind milling her arms and flailing her legs in an effort to beat both men back away from her.  “I’m out of here!!!” She jumped up and grabbed her skirt and heels.  She could hear Morris calling “Monica, wait!”  Where was her bra?  To hell with it!  She grabbed her top and purse, and sprinted for the front door.  She slammed it shut just as Morris and Terrence caught up to her.

4 AM she was outta the house…

She tried to dress while searching for the way back to the elevator.  Morris came into the hallway and tried to coax her back inside his apartment.  “Come back bae.  Let’s finish what we started.”  She’d made it to the elevator and franticaly pushed the button.  As she buttoned up her top, she turned to yell at him, “I don’t even know whose penis that was!”  The elevator doors started to close as she backed into it – only an arm came out of nowhere to hold them open.  It was then that she realized that an older couple was waiting to get past her so they could get out.  The wife gave her a disparaging look as she passed.  She heard the holier-than-thou “hmph” from her as she passed.  The same sound she used to make as she passed judgment on other hussies.  She slumped down against the wall in shame…

Standing outside of his building and looking up at his floor while waiting for a cab, she thought she saw a couple of shadows behind the curtains from other apartments.  She could only imagine what they were thinking.  Apparently, her commotion had awakened half of his floor.  They were probably laughing at her and saying “Look at THAT HOE OVER THERE (THOT) that Morris had tonight!”   Great, just what Monica needed – to be labeled a whore with nothing to show for her whoring efforts.  She hobbled down the street to a corner and prayed the Uber guy really was only 2 minutes away!

Question answered:  YES.  Yes, you are too old to start hoeing.

Joy’s Rant Volume 46 done, and I’m out!

Stay Tuned for Sex Packets, Part 2: Sex Selfies

Joy’s Rant List Volume 45: I Do What I Want!!

Honestly, I originally wrote this blog for my company, for the Women’s Interactive Network. But seeing as how all of 11 people read it, I felt like I could repost it here and actually reach MORE people. I wrote it for women, but in this “remix” I am addressing everyone. You know why? Because I have heard about too many people dropping like flies before the age of 40. And since most of my friends are hovering near 40, this seemed … timely.  And of course, the pictures were not in the original… LOL

I Do What I Want!

cartman

That is my stress-relieving mantra. There are times when we as working adults become so overwhelmed in doing for others – kids, spouse, friends, family, not to mention our jobs! – that we forget to take care of ourselves. And sometimes, even in taking care of ourselves, we stress ourselves out. We know that we need to eat better, exercise more, take real vacation days, etc. But we seldom enjoy it. Have you ever come back off vacation, and NEEDED a vacation? It isn’t really a vacation if you have to work through it or be responsible for 2 to 5 other people. Sometimes, to really de-stress, you need to Do What You Want!

We all know that stress is the silent killer. It exacerbates other health issues, like diabetes and high blood pressure. Here are some statistics for you*:

• Stroke is the No. 3 cause of death in the U.S., behind heart disease (with which it is closely linked) and cancer.

• People with uncontrolled high blood pressure are seven times more likely to have a stroke than people with controlled high blood pressure.

• Women account for approximately 43 percent of strokes that occur each year, but they account for 61 percent of stroke deaths.

• Brain aneurysms can occur in people of all ages, but are most commonly detected in those ages 35 – 60.

• Women are more likely to get a brain aneurysm than men, with a ratio of 3:2.

I’m sure there are stats for men and minorities, but I’m not doing additional research.

Stress word cloud

Suffice it to say: stress = stroke.

I had an epiphany about 10 years ago when I decided that I wasn’t going to drop dead in the living room from stress, trying to be what everyone wanted me to be. I was trying to be Wonder Woman (minus the outfit) and satisfy everyone’s needs. I was even taking days off for myself that were ultimately spent running errands, doing favors and cleaning the house…. I hate cleaning the house.    I decided that I would do something just for me, that I loved, that made me happy. I scheduled a day off, left my cell phone at home and went to Universal Studios by myself and rode all the roller-coasters. Multiple times. I then treated myself to dinner and a movie, and went to bed early. The next day, I felt like I had come back from an extended weekend! I try to do something like this at least every few months now.

Everyone can afford to self-indulge from time to time. This does NOT mean you can just walk out in the middle of dinner with your family. It does not mean that you lose it in the middle of a meeting:

This meeting is now over!

This meeting is now over!

But how about starting a ‘Me Day’ Fund, and put $50 a month into it? Every quarter, you could afford to do something nice for yourself – something YOU want. This could be simply paying the baby-sitter to watch your kids, and getting a hotel room for the night, just so you can take an uninterrupted hot bath. And don’t take your husband – let him find his own stress relief! Besides – couples who take breaks from each other stay together longer.  So be selfish! Go get a massage – Massage Envy is a great club to join (but Robert is mine – *see previous rant). Take Friday off, and go to the mall alone. Men – lock yourself in your room and play Xbox for a designated “don’t come in here” amount of time.  Madden Therapy is real.  If you like the outdoors, go fishing, go hunting, or just go to the garage and pretend to work on stuff.  These are all things my dad used to do.  And by the way, my parents stayed married til death.  And my dad died at 76 and he looked damned good to the very end.  Try reading a book – and not a work-related, motivational or personal growth book either. Read a trashy romance novel, or a murder mystery, or the last Harry Potter book. Escape is the name of the game. So go have a pina colada and get caught in the rain. Eat, drink and be merry! You’ll live longer.

Rant 45 done, and I’m out.  Hey, there were no curse words in this one.  I think that’s a first.  LOL

*statistics found at http://www.theuniversityhospital.com/stroke/stats.htm

Joy’s Rant List Volume 44: Fifty Shades of Joy

For my male friends, you may want to skip this one, although I will say that it’s worth reading to the end.

For my female friends – you’re welcome.  🙂

(No pictures, this time!!!  LOL!)

It’s late afternoon.  Nobody knows where I am right now.  The room is dark, with the scent of lavender on the air.  Some kind of low music is playing in the front room.  I hear him walk in.  I’m already laying there, waiting.  Jeans and t-shirt in a ball on the floor.  He comes towards me.  He’s built like a linebacker, with long locks down his back.  Caramel skin, green eyes.  So sexy!  He speaks to me in that deep baritone voice…

“Are you ready?”
“Yes” I reply.  I look at his hands – big, strong, huge, even.  And I can tell this is going to hurt just a little bit.  But it will be worth it.
He comes towards me and begins to rub my back in small circles, relaxing me.  I close my eyes.  “Mmmm, that feels good.”

He doesn’t respond.  At this point, I’m not sure what he is going to do next.  I’m focused on the warm strength of his hands, traveling from my neck to the small of my back, over my hips.  I hear him adjusting his position.  Then that pressure, that delicious weight, begins.
He slides his hand up the back of my thigh, and it tickles a little bit.  I giggle.  He pauses and asks me “Is this too much for you?”
No.”  God, no! I’m loving every minute so far.  He continues the rhythm of his hands, running them up and down my thigh.  He grips my hips and I shudder.  He starts to push down.  He speaks again and it sounds like his voice is reverberating through my chest.

“Let me know if this hurts you, okay?”
“Okay”, I say, now feeling a bit shy.  I’m completely at his mercy, and I know I can trust him – I have before – but today he wanted to try something new and now…  I’m not so sure.  But I’m willing.

He arches over me.  My ankle is on his shoulder and his huge warm palm is wrapped around my knee.  He stares into my eyes.  Maybe he is not so sure about this either.

“Take a deep breath for me.” He commands.

I obey and immediately things change.  He begins to push and the pressure is more than I thought it would be.  I start to resist, but instead I bite my lip and turn my head.  He pushes more, his grip on me getting harder.  “C’mon.  It’ll be okay.  Just a little more?”  He seeks my permission to continue.  The pain and the pleasure are so intertwined that all I can do is nod my head in acquiescence.  I start to pant.  He makes a quick grunt in the back of his throat.  “Wow, you are really tight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”  I smile at him and he smiles back.  We laugh a bit, to shake off the awkwardness.  But still, that lovely pain-pleasure-pressure continues.  I grip the sheets and struggle not to cry out.  A moan escapes me.  He pries one hand loose from the sheets and laces his fingers through mine.
“Just hold on for me.”  I hear him draw and release his own deep breath.  And then he puts his head down and really starts to work me out.

I’m about to lose it.  I’m not sure how much longer he will go on.  It seems like it’s been hours already.  He doesn’t stop, doesn’t take a break.  Just changes positions and begins his attack on my body with endless stamina.  He slides his palm up the small of my back and cups my neck.  His other hand is holding me still while he pushes again and again.  And again.  He hits that tender spot.

“Ooh.  Yeah, right there, right there, right there.”  I chant it over and over again.  The feeling is indescribable.  Hot, heavy, hard, unrelenting, deep, riding that thin line between “stop” and “don’t stop”.
Finally, with my leg caught between us, we both feel the tension build and build and then –
“Ahh…”
“Hmmm…”

He looks at me and draws away.  “How do you feel?”
“Amazing,” I say, immediately.  “Thank you so much!”
“I’ll let you get dressed.  Be back in a bit.”
I humbly reach for my clothes and throw them on.  I turn and head for the door, walking significantly different than I was when I entered.  As I try to leave, he’s there, smiling at me.
“I brought you some water.”
“Thanks…”
“Be sure to stay hydrated.  And go ahead and make your next appointment for no more than two weeks out.  I think we are making great progress on that knee.”

I wink at him.  “Oh, I will definitely be back!”

O_o (What the Huck?…)

This was my experience with Robert at Massage Envy in Pearland, TX.  I know what some of you thought was going on.  And let me say – this is as close as I have gotten in longer than I care to admit.  And I take FULL advantage of it every chance I get!  He is the bomb!!  But I am sure that he has no idea what this experience is like for me.  Every time I go there, he treats me very professionally.  I’m sure his version of our “interlude” would go something more like this…….

Saturday, 1:30 PM.  Andrea Stephens.  Advanced degenerative arthritis in the left knee.  Deep tissue massage.

Here she comes.  She always smiles at me like I gave her a present or something.  She’s weird.  Good tipper, but weird.  Oh, well.  I’ll step out and let her get undressed.  I come back in.

“Are you ready?”  I ask.  She says yes.  Good.  Don’t want to walk in on her early – you get fired for that.  Okay, let’s get this party started.  Begin with the back rub.

“Mmm, that feels good” she says.  Great!  I hope that she refers other people to me; I need to build up my business.  Time to move to the hamstrings.  Heavy pressure, and… why is she giggling?  Is she okay? Let me check…

“Is this too much for you?”  Maybe I’m hurting her.  No?  She says she’s good.  “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”  Okay, let’s do this.  “Take a deep breath for me.”  Don’t want her to freak out about this new technique.

And…apply pressure to adjust the hips…  Deep knee massage…check range of motion…  Work on quadriceps… “Wow, you’re really tight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”  She’s laughing like that’s funny.  But she needs to stretch more at home.  Then she wouldn’t have these knots in her quads.  Okay…work on the hip flexors…  Heavy on the calves… Time to go deep on the scar tissue in this knee… Uh-oh… She’s starting to reach her limit.  I’m almost done though.  Let me get her through this part.  I’ll grab her hand to give her somewhere to focus, cuz this is going to hurt. “Just hold on for me.”

Got to get through this last tense piece of knee fascia…and…snap!

“Ahhh…”

“Hmmm!”  Got it!  That should give her knee more motion until the next session.  Let her get dressed, bring her some water.  Remind her about the next appointment.

“Oh, I will definitely be back.”  She winked at me.  What was that about?  Whatever.  Time for my 3:00 PM appointment.

SO WHAT if it is all in my mind?!?!  It still relieves my stress!!

Rant 44 done, and I’m headed BACK for another massage.  DON’T JUDGE ME!!

Joy’s Rant List Volume 43: The Revelation of Joy: The Final Chapter

Chapter 3 – Hell is Waiting in Line

So, if you have been with me throughout this cliffhanger of a story, you know that I’m now in Purgatory and have been kicked out of VIP by Michael the Archangel (who, I swear, kicked some dirt on me before he closed the door.  Michael is kind of a jerk.)  So I am back in line to get into the club.  A little disheveled, but still cute.  The next time I make it to the front, I see Gabriel again. I haven’t forgotten how me mushed me in the face, and from the smirk he gives me, he hasn’t either.  He looks at me for what seems like forever, and then he says “Truth.”

“What?” I say to him, utterly confused.

“Truth.  That is the cost of entry.  You’ve been here before.  Jesus has asked you to account for your actions.  What is your truth?”  Gabriel looks at me like he knows I’m going to get it wrong.  I start trying to formulate a response in my mind –

I suddenly hear Jesus in my head again: “See, and that’s your problem.  You keep trying to ‘formulate an answer’.  Just tell the truth!” And I am immediately thrust into the back of the line.  With the garbage.  Again.  GOT-…to be more careful.  (wink)

I get up, and go through the motions again.  I am starting to recognize some of the faces in the line.  All of us are starting to look a little stale.  Folks are hungry.  It is hot as hell out here and there is no water (duh!) and we’ve been in line so long, that we have lost track of time completely.  You wait, you get to the front, you fail, and you start over.  Apparently, Hell is waiting in line for eternity We see Satan from time to time.  He comes rolling through in an air-conditioned black Escalade, picking up folks who are tired of waiting, or tired of trying.  They always ride off bumping bass music.  Yeah, I ain’t falling for that.  Ride out, Satan.

Do you wanna ride... in the backseat of a Caddy...

Do you wanna ride… in the backseat of a Caddy…

After 7 times 7 tries of getting back into the club, my clothes are starting to show wear and tear.  I’ve lost one of my heels.  Might as well go barefoot.  My jeans are no longer fitting right.  My hair and makeup is a mess.  Some people in line still try to put on a good face.  But I’ve lost all sense of pride in my appearance.  I only have one thought in my mind: I need to be inside.  I’ll give anything to be back in front of Jesus.  I’ve wasted so many chances, trying to be cute, trying to be funny, trying to be charming, trying any way I can think of to get back in.  Now, I’m just back at the front of the line.  Waiting my turn.  I know what I am going to say to Jesus, if I can just get the chance to see him again.

Real demons wear pink.

Real demons wear pink.

At this point, Satan rolls up again, in a stretch hummer, bumping 2Chainz.  And who is that with him?  Is that Kanye?  Why am I not surprised?  Apparently, Kanye has graduated from the Illuminati and is now an arch demon for Satan.  (Duh)

And you know what’s funny?  My first thought is that Jay-Z must have made it in to heaven.  Because if he was down here, I’m sure Satan would not be wasting time with Kanye.  Jay-Z would clearly be a bigger pull.  But now I am pissed.  How did J-Hova make it into heaven and not me?!?!  WTF?  I don’t know, maybe God granted Beyonce a favor…

Satan is still trolling the line, looking for suckers to trick into going with him.  Kanye calls out the passenger-side window, like Satan’s scrub-ass homie: “Hey girl, you look tired.  Come have a glass of Nuvo with me…”  He wiggles the bottle out of the window.

I turn to face Kanye:  “Oh please!  I never liked you in real life, so I damn sure ain’t going riding with you and Satan!  Are you crazy?  Get thee behind me, Kanye!”

Kanye is on fire!...Forever...

Kanye is on fire!…Forever…

I mean really, as many times as I have tried to get back into the club, why in the hell would I leave now?!?

It’s finally my turn back up front.  I’ve had I-don’t-know-how-long to think about my actions.  About what Jesus is really asking me to say.  The truth about that first lie…  What is truth?  That I was just a little kid and didn’t know better?  Yes I did.  That I shouldn’t be held accountable?  Wrong.  That I already got spanked for that so it should be in the past?  Wrong again.  As I walk up to Gabriel, Raphael stage whispers to him “$50 bucks says she makes it this time.” Gabriel sneers and says, “You’re on.”  Hmm, so archangels can make bets?  Whatever.  That doesn’t concern me.  I’m not one of them.  I can only be concerned about me and my truth.

Gabriel looks at me.  “Truth.”  He then folds his massive steroid arms across his chest and waits.  I take a deep breath:

“When I was two years old, I told my first lie.  My dad had put a vase back together with super glue and told me not to touch it.  As soon as he left the room, I pressed it and it all fell apart.  When he came back, he asked me if I touched it and I said ‘No’.  I knew it was wrong to tell a lie. I felt it in my soul when I did it.  I said it to avoid getting in trouble, and I thought to myself that my father was not smart enough to know that what I was saying was a lie.  I assumed I could get away with it.  I was wrong.  And I dishonored my father by my actions and my attitude.”

The entire time I am speaking, I am looking down at my bare feet.  That’s all I have to say.  There is nothing more that I can think of but the brutal honest truth.

“Just let me in, man.  That’s all I need.”  I keep my eyes on my dusty toes.  I am feeling the crushing weight of knowing that if I do get back in front of Jesus, I will have to give this kind of truth about every single lie, every uncharitable feeling, every hateful thought, every feeling of selfishness, lust, greed. Damn, but that book was thick.  But whatever!  I am going to put my big-girl panties on and woman up to this challenge.  (Actually, I already had my big girl panties on because I hadn’t expected to be showing them to anyone, you know how it is.)  But now I realize – this is the way.  This is the key.  To gain true forgiveness, I have to own up to the fact that I need to be forgiven.  No excuses!

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and realize that the air is cooler.  I open my eyes and I am back in the VIP.  I am still looking ratchet, but that doesn’t matter.  Jesus is here!!!  And he is smiling at me.  “Took you long enough.”  He winks at me and hugs me.  He then is standing behind the same podium from before.  “Shall we begin anew?”

And we do.

Volume 42 done, and I’m out.  Seeing as I’m all cool with heaven and everything, I figure the best thing I can tell you is… “Now go forth and sin no more.”