Monthly archives "March 2015"

Does a penis have medicinal properties?

Portrait of young woman squeezing orange

I once had a lover named Mike and he was exquisite at love making so much so that he phone rang of the hook. Having sex with Mike felt as if he was giving my vagina a massage. During those moments I felt complete bliss and utter satisfaction. However, 2 to 3 days after having sex with Mike, I would begin to feel an overwhelming sadness that would make me weep for days. Each time we had sex, the same phenomena would happen and it became a cycle and a pattern.

I began to talk to my girlfriends about the situation and we all agreed Mike was depositing his negative emotions inside of me. Let’s face it Mike had Good Dick but his emotions and energy were so negatively charged I could not stand to be around him after 2 days, so I would cause a fight and he would get upset and I would be free of him for a while until I would grow weak and he would chase me down and I would go get my fix.

I was young and although, I did not fully understand what was happening to me when I was with Mike, I was certain I did not like the way it made me feel and eventually I broke up with him. This experience with Mike and some other variations of unnerving experiences is why I would remain celibate for years but that to was no healthier than the eerie deposits that led to feeling off-balanced and crazy.

And so as promised I have found Dr. Fix My Horny, he comes with nontraditional methods in his bag of medicinal tools.  He clearly articulates in this interview what I have been feeling for years. The Magic Power of the Penis!

Double Negatives?

There is a saying that comes from the prisons in Cali, “it’s your story-you tell it!” This phrase has double meaning and even has sarcasm, that being said, I refuse to allow anyone else to speak for me and or to define who I am because more times than not other people may not have my best interest in mind.

It’s your story- you tell it!


The apataki of Esu comes to life!


I’m not on social media and with the exception of the few reality shows I watch and veg out on-I do not watch a lot of T.V. and I definitely do not view the news or as I like to call it, ” the creep show” , with this in mind I may be late when it comes to trending phenomenons. I vaguely heard something about, ” the dress”, however, I did not give it too much thought and what do you know as soon as I had reached out to my sister in spirit FK in Nigeria, Esu sent me a message compliments of The Ellen Show.

Now, I will say this til I’m blue in the face, you got to watch out for them bate and switch games. Again, they tell you, your stuff has no value, it’s bad and then they turn around and steal your shit. Fuck that -even your hot stinky-shit is valuable, shit get too hard, you can build a house with your own shit!!!!! Literally.

They call it science…..I know all about them binary codes….you betta ask somebody!

So I say Module Baba Esu for giving me a clear sign! Ase

Erasing the shame of pioneers

Young woman wearing head tie with finger on lips


There are days when my life is filled with grief and disconnect. There are days when I feel completely insane from isolation because I have no one to talk to about the past. Having a memory like an elephant has not served me well, it has caused me so much suffering because I can remember all the things the adults want to forget.

How could something that means so much to me that has shaped my life, my mind, my spirit be so bad. It has been less than easy walking around Los Angeles with tribal marks on my face and while I often feel like some kind of museum piece, my insecurities don’t necessarily come from having them but from the shame I feel from stories of the past.

I have seen and experienced so many supernatural things in my life that I used to question if they had ever happened and the most heart breaking truth is that when I reconnect with my peer group from Oyotunji, there is a sigh of relief from the burdens we carry from our parents and the lies we all weaved to feel safe and accepted.

It is amazing when you start to hear the lies as children we all came up with to both connect and disconnect from our experiences. I told people my tribal marks were a birthmark because I figure out early on Black Folks never questioned God and although people knew I was lying, it created a respectful boundary, a kind of don’t tell don’t ask clause. It was easier to lie because the truth seemed like a lie and once you started to tell the truth it just seemed unreal, so lying seemed more convenient.

So many black folks believe that once we hit these shores our culture was lost. I am living proof that although folks may not have understood why or what they were doing but because they listened to the spirits, things emerged in ways words have no description, those old ancient spirits were too strong to be denied and for that and to them I am eternally grateful.

As I write this, I envision the entrance to a nail shop, there seems to be one on every corner and as black folks enter and see food and drink placed on the ground at the entrance sometimes around Buddha sometimes not they never question, who they are honoring and or feeding. Their hoodoo seems to go unnoticed. So not only are folks willing to cross and enter the threshold where people honor and feed their ancestors on a daily, they are also willing to help these people pay their mortgages, bills and put these people’s children through college.

And as I sit here my grief begins to dissipate because the people from my village invented with one of a fellow cousins from Nigeria the West African Taco and we sold many in our restaurant called Fon and I am reminded as to how I become an expert in hospitality and today I gave thanks and honor to Chief Ajamu, his spirit is whispering that he wants his story our story to be told.


How to self soothe without self medicating?



The Gods love to play practical jokes, just when you think, you have everything mapped out and planned they pull a fast one on you. I am grappling with a frustrating situation and or as they say in West Africa ” a peculiar mess” that being said I am in severe need to soothe myself with male energy.

So, I send my friend Reggie a text saying,  ” Is school getting better for you? I was sitting here thinking about who has the better juiciest sexy lips-you or Derek Luke and or what bowl of soup I would prefer to be if I were to be blown on by either of you. Please forgive me in advance, I’m having a moment!”

I love a beautiful pair of lips….” Soup Coolers” are their affectionate name. Reggie has a pair of juicy billowy lips, plump and ripe-just the right size of bigness. We have been friends since we were kids and it took him until we were grown grown to make a move on me….. that kiss caused an eruption as if we were a Lakers game……. those lips not only look and taste like the outside of the chocolate on one of those Hagen Daaz ice cream bars….. his lips are as soft and sweet as the Vanilla Ice Cream inside.

I take a deep sigh, close my eyes, and think about all the men I know or don’t know personally who have sensual lips….. the kind….. where you just want to suck the bottom of their lips and feel pure satisfaction. I’m too old to suck a bottle but not a bottom lip….. to all the mothers of the world who have created and given birth to men with lips to heal and soothe…….I thank you……..Mo dupe!

How to stand out in a crowd!



Portrait of Woman

I was forced to like myself by my nurturing tyrant of a father, I could only assume he had be a general or a warrior in his past life because living with him was like boot camp. I often thought my Baba was crazy, he was really an intuitive, he could foresee things that were going to happen to me before I could.

Like the time he came to me and taught me how to fight, for days he showed be how to , throw punches, I never told him that I was being picked on at school and that- hoards of girls were threatening to fight me and that everyday I was doing my best to avoid them, so how he knew I needed those lessons I would never know.

My Baba has given me and taught me so many things so that when the time came I would be prepared….. he would always say, “You gotta watch who you call your friends, cuz you don’t know who your friends are until, the shit go down!” This saying never made any sense to me and as usual, I would think he was crazy until as they say the rubber meets the road and  as he said, ” the shit went down!”

I can never repay my Baba for all his lessons, he always prepared me for things to come and so all those girls who would say, ” She Thank She Cute!”, didn’t know that I was not edified on my looks that when ever I was feeling myself or for one minute, ” thought I was cute”, he would extinguish my esteem like a mad dragon and say, ” That cute shit gon play out and every girl got a pussy!” I hated my father, he seemed like a dream killer but he wasn’t.

My father wanted to me to rely on my brains and not my looks, he esteemed me on my capabilities-when I made mistakes, he would often make me sit with my hands in my lap and sit quietly so that I would think about the choices I made, he made me learn how to critically think.

Hell, I didn’t even think I was pretty until my son was looking at a picture he thought was my daughter and when I looked at the photo I realized it was me- not my daughter…. my daughter is pretty, she looks just like me, yet better! I appreciate my father so much….. he has been so hard on me and so for all the girls who thought or think that I thank i’m cute, you stand corrected…..I am smart, competent and sexy!

She Thank She Cute


If I had a dollar for every time I heard, ” She Thank She Cute!”, I would be rich. What the hell is that supposed to mean? As Kathy’s body hung over the rail, Mr. Kearney begged me to put her down and let her go-but I refused. I was enraged, I had been suspended from school too many times for fighting already and enough was enough…. as I held Kathy by her shirt, I began to say to her….. What did I ever do to you, what! I thank I’m Cute! What the hell Am I Supposed to think, you picked a fight with me over what -I have never even had a conversation with you let alone an argument!”

Once I released Kathy she stared at me in horror, the group of girls who stood by watching looked even more horrified when I began to approach them all. I told them, ” I am tired of this shit, line up and I will fight each one of you stupid bitches one by one because this is the last time I’m going to be out of school over some dumb shit, you want to fight me because I thank I’m cute well you should think something of your dam self, don’t come to school fucking wit me cause yo mama and daddy don’t edify you!”

They all stood with their mouths open, ” Let’s go Mr. Kearney so we can get this over with!” I got suspended again. Was that my last fight , I wish I could say, it was. I didn’t have another fight with anyone at my school but I did continue to have to fight because, ” She Thank She Cute!”

I couldn’t understand why girls were so mean and competitive…..I was the only girl, I didn’t have sisters growing up so I never had to compete with anyone else and although I used to cry when I was little because I wanted a sister -eventually I got over not having one because not only was I the only girl-I was the first born which made me even more special-so I learned how to carry myself as the first and only and I annihilated that feeling that made me cry because I did not have a sister-I killed that I’m missing something spirit!