Ignoring A Problem...

...will not make it go away. Let me tell you what I did.

I had 2 credit cards that I just ignored. Completely ignored them. I did so because I forgot to pay them and was hit with late payment penalties. I called both of them and asked to have the charges removed since it was my first time and they both declined to do so. So I said "fuck it, i'm not paying them" Little did I think about the fact that they ALWAYS win. Over the course of the last 4 months, I was constantly called by the card companies and just didn't answer the calls. Even when the statements came, I just put them through the shredder. Why I did this, I do not know. I paid the other ones on time and was paying more than the minimum.

Well, as you can guess, they hit me with late and overlimit fees each month. In 4 months, my balances had double, but I still wasn't paying them. That was until I got 2 letters from collection agencies. You can best believe that my eyes popped wide open when I read both of those. I did like one of those white women reading a bad letter. I actually leaned against and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. I hadn't thought about my credit report or credit score up until that point, but I did at that moment. I won't reveal my credit score, but I will tell you that it dropped from the high 600s to the very low 600s in those 4 months.

I immediately called the collection agency to set up payment plans over the next 6 months to get them paid off. I then called all of my other credit card companies and set up payment plans with them also to get them paid off over the next year.

It's going to be tough because I set all of them up to pay more than the minimum due, but it will be worth it to be out of credit card debt in a year. Luckily, I am moving into a 3 bedroom, 3 bath apartment with 2 of my friends. That will reduce my monthly housing expenses by $550. After my last roommate experience, you would think that I wouldn't ever want another one. But these 2 are people whom I have know for quite a while who have steady jobs and are doing quite well. So this time, things should be better.

In closing, a word of advice to all is to never ignore a bill no matter if you can pay it or not. Just call the company you owe and let them know your situation.

Going Against My Convictions

I decided to do something that I haven't done in 10 years and said that I would never do again! You know i'm not with that suspense ish, so i'll tell you what it is. I'm going to church!

My last time going to church was back in the summer of 1998 in Tuscaloosa, AL. I don't remember the name of the church, but I can remember what happened. I went with this guy named Charles who was one of those church kids. He LIVED for church and was there when the doors opened. He loved everything about going to church. I actually saw him once right a check to the church for his tithes and offerering for $100 amid tears of joy and "love for the Lord". The check bounced.

Getting back to the story, I remember wondering what the sermon would be about that day. As soon as the preacher opened his mouth and said "I want to talk about a sensitive subject today", I knew what it would be about, homosexuals going to hell. And I was right. During the sermon, I kept looking over at Charles who was shaking his head in the affirmative with everything that the preacher said. This was the same Charles who had just told us the night before that he enjoyed sucking dicks when they were soft and feeling them get hard in his mouth. I also looked around at all of the dudes in the church whom I knew were gay. All of them just staring at the preacher as though he was a stripper in a club. They were soaking it up. I was sitting there thinking that these are the same guys that are going home to a boyfriend or meeting a dude for sex later in the day.

I realized that I had sat through this shit for years growing up when I didn't have a choice whether or not I wanted to go to church. But at this point, I was grown and I wasn't going to deal with this bullshit anymore. It seemed that everytime I went to church, I was being told a different reason why I was going to burn in hell for eternity unless I did this or did that. I never left the sanctuary feeling good about what I had heard. I always felt like I was living my life wrong and just couldn't be right.

After thinking for a few minutes, I stood up in the middle of the sermon. Charles asked me if I was going to the bathroom and I said to him "i'm getting the fuck out of here because i'm sick of this shit". The lady next to me almost fainted and of course everyone looked at me when I stood up. But I didn't care. I just had to get the hell out of there. I've only been to 2 churches since then, and they were both for funerals.

When I got home, I called my mother and talked to her about how I felt. She spoke some words that I remember from childhood. She said "man doesn't have a heaven or hell to put you in, so you don't answer to him". After I got off the phone, I thought about what she had said and it clicked in my head that church and religion were manmade and they weren't doing me any good. I said I would never go to church again, but that I would continue my relationship with God on my terms. Not on the terms of what others said.

But for some reason last Sunday, something told me to try church again. So this Sunday *why I chose Easter, I don't know* i'm going to attend church with one of my friends. I've decided that I'm going in with no expectations or resentment. My assessment of how I feel when I leave will determine my next course of action as to whether or not I want to open myself back up to Christianity or not. Probably not, but going can't hurt, hopefully.

But, then again, I may not go at all.

*I decided to wait until the next Sunday to attend. Easter Sunday just isn't ideal*

Repost: I Love Dick. What Does That Make Me? 6/6/06

I Re-read this and just felt the need to repost it! Enjoy

WARNING: This post is about gay sexual positions. It is a very open and upfront post. You may actually learn something. Read at your own risk.

In the gay world, when it comes to sex, you must be put into a category. If not, then you confuse the hell out of people. I've heard stories that back in the day (i.e. anytime before the 90s), you either took dick or you gave it. There was no inbetween. You either took dick in the ass (bottom) or you gave dick to the ass (top). Then around the 90s, gay men realized that you didn't have to be relegated to one position or the other. Thus came the role of versatile. A versatile man was neither a top or bottom. He gladly gave and received dick. Then there was the man that was a top, but would give up a little ass every now and then. He was called a verstile/top. And the man that was a bottom that gave up some dick every now and then was called a versatile/bottom. Finally, there was the man that didn't have anal sex at all, but he would suck a mean dick. He was called oral and was largely disregarded as selfish with his dick or ass.

On some occasions when a man first has sex with another man, he does not know his sexual position. He may have no clue. But on other occasions, he may know that he only wants to penetrate someome or have someone penetrate him. There are also some people who start out their sex lives in one position and switch to another. Sexual desires are fluid like that.

When it comes to myself, I have hit just about every point on the sexual position map. It all seemed to depend on who I was having sex with. There have been some men who wanted me to be their top, some who wanted me to be thier bottom, and some who wanted some versatility. I USE to be happy as long as I was getting me some tongue, dick, or ass. I don't use any of the labels mentioned earlier. I like to call myself adaptable. I can be whatever my partner wants me to be. But if forced (as if that would ever happen) to choose one, I would have to say that I was a versatile/bottom.

Most guys would never admit to being any kind of bottom even if they are. They still think in that old mentality that bottom equals feminine or weak. Well, I can tell you that it means neither. The only thing that it means is that you like to be penetrated. That's it. Nothing else to explain. Admitting that I like dick is nothing to me. Having had my share of versatility, I know that I like dick more than I like ass. When I was younger, it didn't matter, but as I got older learned that I liked and wanted one more than the other.

To be honest, when I penetrated a guy, he got a lot more out of it than I did. To me, the only good part of doing it was the end result. The orgasm. That was it. All of that work and the whole time I was doing it, I felt virtually nothing until the end. Well sometimes. A few dudes had that ass that put a grip on my dick and made my eyes go white. But on the other hand, when I am being penetrated, it feels good from start to finish. A lot of times, I can feel it all over my body. Read this post to understand that.

I think that it's because I am better at being a bottom than I am at being a top. I know what to do and how to do it to make sure that I get the feeling that I want and the same for my partner. I find that making sure that I am having a good time will ensure that he is too. I know how to arch my back according to his height. I know to squeeze when he pulls out and to relax when he goes back in. I know how to hold my legs a certain way for each position. I know to not rest on his legs when I am riding so that he can have some control. I know that when he gets his rhythm going, I have to match it with mine. And #1, I know to have a clean ass! I am better at being a bottom because I know what to do.

When I am penetrating someone, the only thing that I do it pile drive that ass. I don't know all of the different methods and all of that shit and have never wanted to learn. But all the guys that I have done seemed to enjoy it. One guy that I was dating started out penetrating me, but I did him the first time and never got any dick from him again. In fact, no one has since then.

Now as far as having a husband, I would like a guy who is a versatile/top. I may only want some booty 3 or 4 times a year, but I want him to enjoy giving me that booty. When I was with Dreads, he would do it, but he hated it. Seeing him ACT like he was dying was such a turn off. I guess he thought that if he acted like it was killing him, I would have sympathy and not want to do it again. But I would do him because he had a good, plump, tight booty. He would just have to suffer through it and I wouldn't look at his face. But I want a dude that is gonna WANT to be penetrated every so often. I like being penertrated, but my dick is not retired!

So all in all, I like dick. Does that make me a bottom? Maybe in your book, but to me it just means that I like dick!

Sh*t Or Get Off The Pot!!

I'm sure that most of you have heard about this story if you watch any kind of news, but I had to post it.

WICHITA, Kan. — Deputies say a woman in western Kansas became stuck on her boyfriend's toilet after sitting on it for two years.

Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple said it appeared the 35-year-old Ness City woman's skin had grown around the seat. She initially refused emergency medical services but was finally convinced by responders and her boyfriend that she needed to be checked out at a hospital.

"We pried the toilet seat off with a pry bar and the seat went with her to the hospital," Whipple said. "The hospital removed it."

Whipple said investigators planned to present their report Wednesday to the county attorney, who will determine whether any charges should be filed against the woman's 36-year-old boyfriend.

"She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body," Whipple said.

"It is hard to imagine. ... I still have a hard time imagining it myself."

He told investigators he brought his girlfriend food and water, and asked her every day to come out of the bathroom.

"And her reply would be, `Maybe tomorrow,"' Whipple said. "According to him, she did not want to leave the bathroom."


The boyfriend called police on Feb. 27 to report that "there was something wrong with his girlfriend," Whipple said, adding that he never explained why it took him two years to call.
Police found the clothed woman sitting on the toilet, her sweat pants down to her mid-thigh.

She was "somewhat disoriented," and her legs looked like they had atrophied, Whipple said.

"She said that she didn't need any help, that she was OK and did not want to leave," he said.
She was taken to a hospital in Wichita, about 150 miles southeast of Ness City. Whipple said she has refused to cooperate with medical providers or law enforcement investigators.

Authorities said they did not know if she was mentally or physically disabled.

Police have declined to release the couple's names, but the house where authorities say the incident happened is listed in public records as the residence of Kory McFarren. No one answered his home phone number.

The case has been the buzz Ness City, said James Ellis, a neighbor.

"I don't think anybody can make any sense out of it," he said.

Ellis said he had known the woman since she was a child but that he had not seen her for at least six years.

He said she had a tough childhood after her mother died at a young age and apparently was usually kept inside the house as she grew up. At one time the woman worked for a long-term care facility, he said, but he did not know what kind of work she did there.

"It really doesn't surprise me," Ellis said of the bathroom incident. "What surprises me is somebody wasn't called in a bit earlier."

Now I have a few questions?

Where the hell did the boyfriend use the bathroom? Maybe he had a slop jar!

Did she really sit on this toilet for 2 continuous years? I'm sure she had to have gotten up at some point.

Why the hell didn't he call a psych ward after the first day? Sit on my toilet for more than 20 minutes and i'm going to think something is wrong.

Did she ever take a shit? I mean really!!

Wasn't Mr. Whipple the name of the man on the Charmin commercial? Yes! Yes it was!!

Happy Birthday To Me

Yes, I have finally hit the Big 3-0 and I couldn't be happier. I'm not celebrating with any big plans. I'm just taking it easy today and resting. I partied and hung out with friends enough this past weekend, so that was enough for me.

Now i'm ready for 40!!!!!!!!!

My Breakdown

For the last few weeks, I have been in the best of moods. I have been able to smile genuinly. I have taken time to enjoy myself. I have been seeing my friends and letting them know that I love and appreciate them. I have talked to my family. I told all of my issues and problems to go to hell. I wasn't concerning myself with bills, loneliness, self-esteem, control, dating, or anything. I just resolved to be happy and understand that shit happens and you handle it when it happens.

But Saturday, those issues all came out in the form of a breakdown in the parking deck of the Metropolis condo building in Midtown Atlanta. It was about 3:15 am when my crew and I left Bulldogs *my favorite club/bar in Atlanta* and headed to the car. We had enjoyed the club and had a good time socializing and decided to head to KJ's house to cook breakfast and feed our alcohol filled stomachs. We piled into my and KJ's cars still laughing and acting a fool. I put the key in the ignition and it wouldn't crank. All I heard was a distinct clicking soung emanating from under the hood of my car. My first thought was that the battery was dead even though I hadn't left lights or anything on in the car. At 3am, this is just not something that you want to happen.

At first, I was cool. I called 21st Century Insurance Roadside Assistance. The young lady was very helpful and I was impressed that she asked the right questions as to how to find me. She even asked what the clearance to the parking deck was to be sure that the assistance truck would fit. After we got off the phone, I put it down and just sighed. My friends were a little bummed that this was happening as I was, but they were cool. But then, I did something that I never do. I asked out loud "why did this have to happen".

The next thing I remember I was throwing my cell phone and car keys onto the floor of the car and screaming over and over "why did this have to happen". I couldn't control myself and my friends must have thought that I had snapped, which I had. They tried to console me, but I just kept crying and screaming. I honestly wanted to die at that moment. They kept telling my that it was just a car and that it would be fixed. But what they didn't understand is that it wasn't about the car. It was about life in general and it was just time for my frustrations to come out. I hadn't cried since my mother died 6.5 years ago.

I jumped out of the car and just walked away screaming and crying like a damn fool. I kept asking God "why do things never go right for me" and "what did I do to bring this on me". I sat down on the curb and put my head in my hands and just cried. My friends were still talking to me, but I really couldn't hear anything that they were saying. It wasn't until one of them walked me away from the car and told me "we are here for you and we will help you through whatever it is you are going through" that I partially calmed down.

We tried to jumpstart my car using KJ's car, but he has a Mercedes-Benz and we couldn't get to the battery. I almost went back into my fit, but I just had to hold it in. Luckily someone called another friend who lived in the building and he was just getting in from a party. He hooked his car up to mine and mine started right up. I was still a little too distraught to drive, so someone else drove.

I wanted to go to home, but I was persuaded to continue with the original plan of going to cook breakfast. We also decided that we woudl just stay the night at KJ's house instead of any of us being alone. I got my car checked out and it was just a dead battery that only cost me $65 to replace.

I think the reason that I snapped was that it seems like everytime I decide to be happy and enjoy my life, something happens that sets me back. Back in 2004, I got laid off from my job. In 2002, my one true relationship ended after a physical fight. In 2001, my mother died. Years 2006 and 2007 saw me in financial difficulty. At that moment when I turned the key and my car wouldn't start all of the things from the past few years just decided to burst forward and manifest themselves. My worries about life issues: being single, money, self-image, and all the rest just decided that they wouldn't be held in anymore. I screamed, yelled, and cried and was not the least bit ashamed or embarrased about it.

I'm always the one who's calm, cool, and collected. Never panicking. Always there for friends. Handles any situation. Can take control and get things done. But at that moment, I just needed to be vulnerable and have someone take care of me. Thankfully, I had 6 people there who did just that. And I thank God for them.