Single and Happy???


… it possible?

I didn’t think I would be doing another post this soon…yes, yes, yes, I know I promised y’all a couple of stories but a girl can only do so much! Well, the truth is, work has not been so bad this week. Very few clients. Which, honestly, I’m not complaining about! ūüôā I like having a reprieve in the middle of the work day to take a nap or catch up with my reading or something. Maybe listen to my favorite music. I have been neglecting my playlists of late… Not cool. Also, the boss has been away so I’ve kinda been the Acting Boss and probably will be for the next couple of weeks… Maaaaan, I love being the boss!! I can just sit at my machine and churn out a post and I look like I’m doing some serious work! Plus, oh, what a joy delegation is!! The person who invented delegation should be crowned king of the world. Must’ve been on cleverly lazy bastard…. I wanna be a boss forever and ever. (As long as there is a similar reflection in my pay slip, of course.)

Anyway, I was talking to a friend recently and I found out she has a new boyfriend. We’ve been single for a while now, me and her. Of course I was ecstatic for her. She’s the sort of person who is uncomfortable with the whole being single thing. So I congratulate her and I’m all happy for her and she tells me “Just hang in there love, you’ll get one too….” O____o Now, if you have read any of my other posts, you know that I’m a single, twenty-something year old working girl and truthfully, I have been single for a very long time… Longer than I even care to admit to some people because some of them tend to give you the stinky eye like ‘Is something wrong with you? Why have you been single for that long???’ Sigh. My issues with relationships are many and varied…. the most obvious being the usual ‘Once bitten, twice shy’ shtick. Oh, that alone would make up a blog by itself. I probably will talk about them one day. Or not. Maybe. I don’t know… ūüôā My issue right now is these people who think a woman cannot be single and happy. Yes, a woman. Y’all know a woman is judged more harshly than a man…. A man under the same circumstances would be considered a baller. A player. A lucky bastard.. He’d get pats on his back and women would continously throw their knickers at him. He’d be the envy of his friends… It’s almost like it’s a misnomer…. Single and happy??? The two of them apparently cancel each other out. Why does a girl being single cancel out all her other accomplishments? Why is being a single woman a taboo? My friend went on ahead to tell me, ‘Aki usijali, utapata tu…’ (Loosely translated to mean “Don‚Äôt worry, you’ll find one eventually”!!! (I shot her several times, and in slow-motion too, in my head, just so you know. And I’m not even ashamed to admit it out loud)

If you were to ask me about myself, I‚Äôd say I am a (mostly) confident woman who has a pretty good life, full of meaningful work, a good support network of wonderful friends, and a loving family. My career is going well, I got a promotion, I’m making good money…… basically, I like where I am right now and I wouldn’t really want to change much in my life… OK, so I could stand to lose a few pounds…. Of course, so yeah, I would probably rub that magic lamp hard to change that. But since things don’t work that way, I’m eating much healthier nowadays and hitting the gym in between and I’m fairly certain that I will shed those stupid pounds, if I am patient enough. And patient I am… See, I grew up in a large family….almost the size of a football team really, so patience was not a virtue rather, pretty much a necessity. Unlike my mum who doesn’t seem to understand that the damn weight does not melt away overnight! She’s on my case like a thong up a big ass! MY big ass. :-/ I understand her concern, I really do, I just wish she could go about it in a less obnoxious way. I get weary sometimes just thinking about it. Bah!

So, to sum it up, I am a single woman approaching her thirty’s with no kids. I am just going to pause for a second to let that sink in, and to let you think about the images and feelings that spring to mind when you hear that phrase. I bet a number of you think I am either:

  • Standing in a crotch-grazing leopard-print dress, in high heels (they HAVE to be high heels. I always wear high heels.) at a bar yelling extremely loudly, with a slightly-to-very-crazy look in my eyes, ‚ÄúI LOVE being single! I never want a relationship! Relationships are for the weak! Look at HOW MUCH FUN I AM HAVING!!‚ÄĚ OR
  • Sitting in my pajamas, inhaling a tub of ice cream while watching When Harry Met Sally and sobbing about how lonely and empty my life is. (Ok, so I do eat ice cream on occasion. Chocolate too, though not much of late…but I categorically deny ever watching that movie and I never sob while eating ice cream. We all know there’s love to be found at the bottom of the tub, right? Right? Come ooooon…right?)

You couldn’t be further from the truth if that is the imagery you had. Most of the time, I am perfectly happy with the way things are. I love my work (on most days when my good ‘ol boss is not being an ass a beast of burden) and I love my family. I like taking care of my nieces and nephews and quite frankly, it works out very well for me. I get to have the healing company of children and best of all, I get to return them to their owners at the end of the day… That is a win-win situation right there, if you ask me! But nobody is asking me, I guess. Sigh. Sadly, society seems too intent upon reminding me that my life is not complete until I make a walk down the aisle and/or/then have babies. One of the hardest thing nowadays about being single at this age is not actually being single, it is having to put up with the constant bombardment of comments and pressure to ‚Äúfind someone‚ÄĚ and ‚Äúbe happy‚ÄĚ (with the inference that if you are single, you must be very miserable). And what’s worse is, most of these comments come from women themselves! Like if you are married and have children, it suddenly makes you exponentially superior to my single self! It’s almost like being single is analogous to some sort of flesh-eating disease that, if unchecked, will eventually consume you in some god-awful way. Oh, and the absolute worst are the ones who think they magically have the right to tell you it’s your fault you’re single because they are partnered. Things like “You don’t put yourself out there…. You need to get out more…. You need to stop being so career-minded… You need to lower your standards a little bit…” Lady, if I put myself out there any further, I’ll fall off the damn ledge!!

So what compels people to make such hurtful or patronizing remarks to single women? Is it because they really think they‚Äôre doing us a service? Do they really believe my life is empty? Or are they trying to justify their own life choices? There‚Äôs probably more than one answer to that question, but with the divorce rate at about 50 percent, what is it about marriage that still compels people, especially women, to feel that it is the end-all-be-all of happiness and success? And why is it these partnered people have the right to comment on my single status yet I, on the other hand, am not allowed to comment on the absolutely appaling state of some of their relationships? I have a friend who’s engaged yet she (Yes, she. Pick your jaw from the floor) cheats on the hapless dude left, right and center. With exes, with younger men, with work colleagues, with the one who got away (but somehow managed to come back now that she’s engaged to be hitched), damn, just about everything in trousers! Yet I am not allowed to comment on that! Why should it be acceptable for me to be asked “Why are you still single?”, yet it isn’t okay for me to ask “Why have you settled for him? Why are you stuck with her? Were you so afraid of being alone?” What is with the double standards people? Are we so besotted by the idea of being partnered that we believe any relationship or marriage, no matter how dysfunctional, is better than being single? Also, why should the fact that I am single overshadow my accomplishments. Why should it eclipse the fact that I work hard, I have bought my own car or my own piece of land or that I’m constructing a commercial building that is likely gonna get me a good and stable income? Why should the fact that my vagina has not squeezed out any life form eclipse the fact that I am helping to educate my siblings? Why should the fact that my uterus has not housed any life be a reason for someone, anyone to pity me or worse, feel superior to me?? Do not get me wrong, I am not anti-love or anti-marriage or anti-babies. I believe in love. I believe in its power and its healing. And I absolutely adore babies… I am not saying that being single is THE BEST THING EVER!!…. No! Being single has it’s challenges. Yes, we do get sad and lonely days…and there are probably things like businesses or investments that would be so much easier done as a couple than as a single person…. There is the companionship. Someone to sit, and hold hands with, in the dark with when KPLC are misbehaving… And the sex… Oh, dear God, THE SEX!! I miss the sex… That’s probably the single biggest thing I hate about being not being in a relationship. I love sex but I am not into casual sex. Or one-night stands or friends-with-benefits type of situations. I believe that sex is an intimate thing that should be shared by two (or more, depending on how freaky y’all are! hihihi.) people in a commitment of some sort. Of course, on one of those really bad nights being driven by the dry spell, I have considered changing my mind about it…but I haven’t so far…. But I do not feel the need to rush into a relationship right now. I do not feel the need to have children right now. And, if I can be brutally honest, I am quite, very certain that I probably won’t have children. My biological clock seems to have either stopped or malfunctioned. Maybe I never had one to begin with, it was probably assigned to someone else….whatever the reason, I do not feel the need to terrorize my genitals just to prove something to anyone. I have never been a woman who dreams of the white dress or a big wedding and honestly, the idea of marriage scares the holy bejezuz out of me! I know I am not ready for that kind of commitment right now. I want to live alone for now….travel the world. Explore. Not have to explain myself or my actions to anyone. Or be responsible for anyone’s well-being. Or anyone’s feelings… I am probably not emotionally mature for it either…. One friend told me that I was being selfish for thinking that way. She said a woman’s duty (DUTY??? WTH??) is to settle down and raise a family. When I told her I didn’t think I would ever want or have children, she practically got the vapors and fainted! We had to get the find the smelling salts to revive her.

IMG_1771-500x500I find that I have learnt to thrive in, and enjoy, the alone-ness. (Not loneliness! That would just be anti-social) and I am quite content and fulfilled whether a relationship ever happens or not. Of course I would love to be in a relationship one day (once I get over my phobias) and I would love to give my all to my partner in an extraordinary way…but I am not going to let the fact that I am not in one right now dictate how I live the rest of my life…. If it happens, it happens. If not, *shrugs* I would be glad for the day when I can talk about the challenges of being a single person without being judged as miserable or bitter, or to be able to talk about and share my happiness and accomplishments without someone thinking (or saying) ‚ÄúYes, but you don‚Äôt have a man.‚ÄĚ I am not making some kind of feminist statement or something here, though it probably wouldn’t matter if I was anyway…

I would like people to please stop trying to live my life for me. Stop projecting their expectations of life on me. I do not want to have a boyfriend or a husband simply as an accessory….because it is expected of me. I want to have the right person, at the right time. And right now is not the right time for me. There may never be a right time or that right person and if that’s the case, I will deal with it then. I wish we could all remember that life isn’t a competitive sport and happiness CAN be found in many places, not just in relationships and marriages and motherhood. I can be single AND happy…. Please let me be.


I would like to bury my head in the sand and act like this piece is going to go down well with everyone. The truth is, I am likely going to be labeled as a bitter single woman who’s unable to find love and is therefore lashing out at all the not-single people. Knowing that I am anything but bitter or miserable yet will likely be labeled so makes me extremely sad but hey, opinions are like a**holes, everyone has one. And they have the right to have one too, no matter how asinine. I hope y’all have a wonderful weekend.



The elusive Benjamins...

The elusive Benjamins…

Ok. So it’s been a while since I did a post. Ya’ll are gonna have to forgive me because work has been crazy busy. Anyway, so the new year started off well. My family was around for the holidays and I had the absolute best time with nieces and nephews and the rest of the family. And then they left and we got down to work and other things sort of took a a backseat. Anyway, I hang out a lot on the social networks during my free time, most times just watching what people are up to and often times, getting amused by them. I noticed a trend, especially on Twitter, where everyone is all about lanes. Everyone is all, “Stay your lane booboo.” “Swerve.” I’ve noted other more colourful things being said but let’s not get into that. I’ve¬†realized¬†that it all comes down to money. As a working woman, I have learnt to appreciate my money. I work very hard for it and play hard too, whenever I please, however I please, because, hey, it’s my money. I have never had the luxury of sitting back and having everything taken care for me. I practically put myself through university. My mother always hammered it into my head that I should not even think about thinking of getting married before getting myself a job. She said a man will be happy to take care of you while he’s courting you but once that deal is sealed and you’re in the box, that changes. Something about having no respect for the woman who sits back and waits to be taken care of. Apparently a man will respect you more if you show you can pull your weight a bit and earn a little bit of your own cash. Even if it’s just a¬†meager¬†amount compared to what he makes.¬†That way he can trust that in case something ever happens to him, his family will be well taken care of by said woman. ¬†I don’t know, maybe I am over-simplifying or I’m over-generalizing, maybe you lads out there can enlighten me…. all I know is what my Mama taught me. And she speaks from experience. Whatever the case, I was brought up to be self-sufficient. Everything I have, I got through my own sweat. And the truth is, there is a sort of primal satisfaction knowing that you worked for what you have. Of course being a self-sufficient a.k.a independent woman comes with it’s own challenges, what with men running away from you like their tails are on fire getting cold feet around you, but then, that’s another story for another day… The tribulations of an independent ¬†modern woman…

This, of course, brings up the huge issue of women and money. LOL. I was chatting with a friend the other day and he says he’s basically disillusioned with¬†relationships because it seems to him that all women are out for in a relationship is money! The gold diggers. And for the longest of time I have despised such women. They have an easy life while the rest of us have to break our backs to scrape up a living. Another friend said we shouldn’t be too hard on them because they work hard too and I was all like Pffffft! Work hard my big ass! big toe!¬†All they do is lie there, let the man do all the work, then they get showered with all sorts of gifts. That is not hard work by my definition. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I still haven’t decided which, I’ve had my mind-set altered just a wee bit recently. I met this really, really loaded guy… (and I don’t mean loaded in the pants. Though, in all honesty, I have no idea if he was loaded in the pants, I never really got to find that out…) When I first met him, the dude had a poor first impression. He’s one of those really rich people with an extremely unfortunate taste in styling. Oh, who am I kidding, he had no style whatsoever. He’d worn one of those stiff blue Savco jeans, a T-Shirt and sports shoes with a sports jacket that had seen better days and one of those dirty-green/brown God papa hats. Now, admittedly, I am just a wee bit of a snob ( ._.) … so when this guy approached me as I was sitting minding my own business, listening to my music, I was just a teensy bit miffed. Anyway, never one to forget the manners my mother (Bless her) so diligently hammered into me, I smiled, welcomed him to the seat across me and proceeded to give him a listening ear. Anyway, long, long story short, the dude was veeeery persistent and pushy and I agreed to have a drink with him. So imagine my surprise when he invited me for said drinks at the Serena hotel. I was like, hold on, HUH??? Oooooook. Alright. No biggie. I meet him on a Friday evening and in the process find out the nigga be rich! Like ridiculously so. He was talking in terms of hundreds of millions and billions! FUCK! And here I was feeling so uppish over my ka-quarter a million salary! Talk about L.A.N.E.S! I was officially put in my place. (Of course the first thing I wondered was, eeeerrr, you have all that money and you choose to dress like that?? Really guys, he was in another pair of ¬†stiff blue jeans, sports shoes, T-shirt and a baseball cap! Again. It’s like it’s a uniform he has to were everyday. I guess it’s all well because then people tend to underestimate him like I did… Still though… *Shaking my head*) Anyway, as the date progressed, I¬†realized¬†this is a man who is used to taking care of his women. At some point he mentions this lady he dated at some point who conned him out of a 100K by lying to him that her dad was dead and they needed to make funeral¬†arrangement¬†bla bla bla… turns out she just wanted some cash to go for a holiday with her other boyfriend in Mombasa! I can’t remember how he found out but then again, that is not the point here… Anyway, this man proceeded to just give me cash! Like, he had this whole bundle of a thousand shilling notes in his pocket and he just whipped it out and started peeling some of those notes for me. He looked at my nails and told me I needed to get a pedicure (My nails are pretty but fragile. Any time I apply nail polish, they start peeling off. It’s like they’re allergic to nail polish or something…. Maybe someone needs to come up with some organic nail polish or herbal nail polish or something… hhhmmm, now there is a business idea. Anyway so because of that, I rarely paint my nails.) then he looked at my¬†hair¬†and said I should probably get my hair done too. At some point I told him I needed to head on home sort out dinner for my siblings and he proceeded to peel off more of those notes for me. He asked the concierge to go deposit the cash in his M-Pesa account then I’d send it to my siblings…that way, I’d stay with him a little longer!! Anyway, the guy literally threw money at me. At some point he offered to buy me a Mercedes C-class! He said he wanted his woman well taken care of. I declined the offer. Told him I am not ready to own a Mercedes just yet so he asks what car I’d want!!! (shaking my head) He proceeded to tell me all about his businesses and basically hinted at his net worth. And I could see from the way he was talking, he wasn’t being all Jang’o about it…you know, bragging nshit…. he was just talking and the¬†details¬†just sorta kept slipping into the conversation. (Or he was bragging but being really, really clever about it and I fell for the shtick… oh, well.) And then just like that, it hit me! Some women are after the money because men make it so bloody easy for them!! I mean, the man was literally cramming money down my throat and I hadn’t even asked for it! (Don’t get me wrong, I love money and frankly I’d rather be crying while rich than laughing while struggling financially. Life has so many problems that I’d rather money not be one of them.)And I kept on wondering why men are always complaining that women are out for money when some of them are so willingly flinging it in our faces? I am not rich, but I’m comfortable. I do not struggle much and I don’t live paycheck to paycheck. I could stand to do a little more proper investments but that neither here nor there. The issue is, not everyone is at the point where I am financially so I understand that another, not so financially stable, woman might have jumped on that bandwagon so fast and milked him dry for as long as it lasted. Or a lazy chic not willing to get off her butt and work might have gone at it hard… I don’t know.

It’s all about the money…. Is it really?

All I know is, men keep whinning about money-minded women when they are the ones who make it soooo easy at times. For me, he was basically proposing an exchange of money for sex. In an exclusive relationship, yes, but still an exchange nonetheless. Oh wait, let’s not forget that this is a married man with children and a damn pretty wife to boot. I’m not ugly but I’m not what would be considered smoking hot either. I’d probably pass for cute… so for a minute there I did wonder what exactly about me was attracting this man when he had such a pretty wife waiting for him at home. It could have been my ass though. I guess. It’s huge. You slap it on Christmas day and it won’t stop shaking until after New Years day… sigh. I have a love-hate relationship with this bottom. It has almost stopped traffic and I have been dumped because of it…. Anyway, I digress.¬†I won’t lie that I didn’t get tempted to just give in and let him do as he wanted. Oh, but I did. In the worst way!! The man drives a Range Rover Evoque for heaven’s sake!! (My poor sedan probably developed low self esteem after being parked next to it!!) and he was literally throwing high-end cars at me and offering to pay my rent nshit… OF COURSE I got tempted! EISH! You’d have to be inhuman not to get tempted. Or filthy rich yourself. Both of which I’m not. For a second there, I had this epiphany. Why not just get with him and get all the money I could from him while it laasted (probably pick up a few contacts from him too) and once I’d had enough, leave him. Shiet, I could probably use some of the money to pay for a first class therapist to help me forget what I did to get that money!! (Or get some high grade weed or something, light it up and forget!) Thank God sanity prevailed.

Anyway, bottom line of all this ranting?

1. Men, stop bitching about women who’re out for money. Some of you literally paint the X on your asses then you start crying foul when some unscrupulous person zooms in on it. Grow up, accept the consequences of your actions like the man you are. Now, this don’t mean that now you become stingy S.O.Bs….. no! Stingy men are a no-no with women, as around. Like this guy I once dated…. SMH, never mind, I’ll tell you that story another time. Just don’t brandish your money about as a weapon to attract a woman then cry about it when she bites.

2. Also, Men, not all women are out to gold-dig. Some of us make our own money and we are proud to carry our own weight and yours too, if need be.

Gimme that.

Gimme that.

3. Good God, I have a new-found respect for women who sleep with men for money. That shit is tough! This man barely touched my thigh and I cringed. Like, visibly cringed enough that he noticed and took away his hand. How do you silence that inner voice of disgust enough to not only allow him to run his hands all over you but to poke your honey pot with his dong, repeatedly, without being high on something?? As it is, I was so¬†embarrassed¬†at the whole situation, I ended up paying the bill for the drinks. Which I could see took him aback for a second…

4. Women, making your own money, no matter how little, will wonderfully boost your self-esteem and self-respect and sense of self-worth which no one can take away from you. Try it and see.

5. If any of y’all ladies want the guy’s number, holla at me! ūüôā You gots ta have a big-ass bottom though…. he seemed really enthralled by that!

The gold-digger's poem..

The gold-digger’s poem..

Do Not Try This…. 7 (damn-near) Impossible Sex Positions.

Y’all know the unwritten rule of the land…. When you ain’t ¬†having something, or even worse, when you are not supposed to have something, you tend to constantly think and¬†obsess¬†about it. And this is exactly why diets do not work for me and most of the women out here. Because I think of that carrot cake I am NOT supposed to have and suddenly I feel like I will die if I do not have a bite of the damn cake. Heck, forget about the cake, even a simple mint sweet seems like manna from heaven when you are on a diet. So I simply do not tell myself I’m on a diet lest weird cravings kick in!¬†Anyway, not to digress. I’ve been on an impossibly dry, dry-spell.¬†(sigh)¬†so the truth is, I’ve pretty had the bumping uglies on my mind like 85% of the time. Yes, dear men, women can day-dream about sex too. Which can really be a pain in the ass when you’re in a meeting and random parts of you starts perking up and other literally get their pom poms and start cheering in the presence of random dudes!¬†FTS

The grumpy cat

The grumpy pussy (sic)

Anyhoodles, long-suffering sigh¬†on one of those boring afternoons at work, I am just trolling the ‘net as usual, I came across the Kama Sutra and I was bored (or bold) enough to flip through it while at work. (P.s; You do NOT want to know the look on one of my¬†colleagues’ face when she walked into my office and discovered what I was up to!!! Lol. Most comical look EVER.) So, I’m browsing and browsing¬†through¬†and drooling just a teensy weensy bit at the very buff, muscular species of the male variety depicting all manner of sensual, carnal pleasure that has been denied to me all these past many, many, many months.¬†I remember thinking to myself that all folks engaged in coitus (I just had to use that word. I’m an adult but I burst out into helpless giggles every time I hear it. Hehehe.) should be rounded up and shot and just leave the rest of us in miserable peace. And now for some reason, I can’t stop picturing some grumpy cat I keep on seeing on¬†Twitter¬†feeling¬†very happy about the shooting of the sexed up bastards¬†people. Forgive me, I am taking you everywhere today. I am ever so slightly high on some Codeine-laced medication I have taken for a migraine. I keep giggling randomly. I do that when I am high. Tihihihihi.

Anway, without further distraction, here are the top seven, damn near-impossible to achieve, positions (in no particular order) that I thought you shouldn’t try at home…..or anywhere for that matter!

1. The Headspinner:


The headspinner

How it works: He stands (or is it spins?) on his head with his legs in the splits while you wrap yourself around his torso, scissor between his legs and balance in his armpit.

My take: Where do I even start? Look Ma, no hands!!! Or NOT. Now, now,¬†you may be dating a professional break dancer, (or a contortionist, I don’t know what kinda freaky situations you are into!) and he may be able to do some electric bugaloo shit, but can he balance hands-free on his head AND pump his upside-down dong in you while you’re balancing in his armpit? There’s this thing, you see, it’s called gravity. So,¬†I‚Äôm going to go ahead and endorse this one. Go for it. Go wild.¬†And quite frankly if you and anyone you know are stupid enough to attempt this, regardless of how co-ordinated, strong, flexible or agile you are, you deserve everything you get.¬†Just don‚Äôt forget to set up a camera. Oh, and set up the feed to automatically send to …… ¬†Y‚Äôknow, just in case you‚Äôre unable to move for some reason or another‚Ķ ūüėČ

2. The Pair Of Tongs:

The Pair Of Tongs

How it works: In this position, you hang off the bed sideways, supporting most of your weight on one arm. The man holds your waist, straddles your lower leg while holding your upper leg and inserts the D in the P.

My Take:¬†I looked at the picture of this one and just laughed. Talk about superhuman strength! Who makes this stuff up?¬†If you’re not a master at side plank, or don’t have the upper body strength of Madonna, your arms are going to collapse or you are going to fall on your head the minute he starts pumping. Let’s be honest, he’s going to forget that you are in a precarious position the minute dong hits your honeypot and sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but side entry is NOT always pleasurable. Plus, it’s gotta be a schlong, not a schlort, if you expect to achieve any sort of penetration…

3. The Wanton Wheelbarrow:


The wanton wheelbarrow

How it works: You do a hand stand while he stands and grips your waist, entering your honeypot from behind.

My Take: Sigh. Seriously, who comes up with these things?¬†Surely there are easier, less awkward, more fun AND flattering ways for a woman to demonstrate her upper body strength. Not all of us are Olympic standard gymnasts! The truth is, your elbows are going to give out in like 30 seconds and things are not going to end very well for the man brave enough (or is it foolish enough?) to try this. It doesn’t work out well for the lady either! Especially if he has poor hygiene and you have to smell his socks. (Why is he wearing socks???? Ugh.)

4. The Back Breaker: (huh???)


The back breaker

How it works: You starting by standing on your bed, he levitates in mid-air while you sit on his dong with your legs hooked around his neck. After you assume this position, you fall backwards in unison. Can be repeated as often as you want. Why would you want want to repeat such a ridiculous thing??? 

My Take: WHAT THE FUCK?? Do I even need to go into why a position called ‘Back Breaker’ should not find it’s way into your sex talk, let alone your bedroom? It’s called Back Breaker for heaven’s sake! Also, nobody can levitate and manage to move his pelvis in any way that is pleasurable! No, not even your awesome-ass boyfriend. OK, maybe Idris Elba….. *Sigh* That man can gerrit. He can fetch it, he can obtain it, he can bend it like¬†Beckham¬†if he so wishes and he can keep it too!¬†Wishful¬†sigh. As one of my pals keeps telling me, some people are really created in the image of the almighty being…. *Sigh*

5. The London Bridge:


The London Bridge

How it works:¬†To start this position, the man must get on all fours, facing upward. (hahaahaahaha!!¬†If you’ve gotten this far, as a couple, congratulations to the man for being a double jointed freak of nature) You, the woman, then (somehow!!) straddles the man without knocking out his legs from under him and the riding begins.

My Take:¬†These joint positions are completely unnatural for human beings. (Unless you are a contortionist or you have some weird disease like Marfan’s Syndrome…) That, and I’d really love to know the person who can hold a bridge with another human being sitting on their pelvis humping away…¬†And I can’t even figure out how the D and P would line up for any penetration decent enough to achieve the big O. Any insertion would be impossible, as the man’s middle region will naturally want to bend inward, towards the ground…¬†SMH. Also, if the ‘bridge’ falls down,¬†the woman’s center of gravity would be sitting at a shock point to the man’s spinal cord with the¬†possibility¬†of intense back injuries, minor pelvic injuries, and a really hurty butt for both parties! Frankly, I wouldn’t try this one. Unless I really, really don’t want to look at the guy’s face. Maybe he’s ugly. Like really ugly. Like warthog ugly. Or, like the-walrus-that-ate-the-wathog ugly. Maybe then. And even then, and let’s be honest here, unless it’s like the post-apocalypse era or something, I wouldn’t be caught alive with someone THAT ugly. *Chills* Bloody bollocks! One last thing, why ‘The London Bridge’? Why not The San¬†Francisco¬†Bridge? Or The Nairobi River Bridge?

6. The Backdoor Cartwheel:


The backdoor cartwheel

How it works: Uuhhmmm, honestly, I have not been able to figure out how this one works. I guess someone gets in a cartwheel position and somehow D and P manage to find each other and you cartwheel around together. I guess. *Scratches head*

My Take: Where do I even start with this one? First of all,¬†the ‚Äúbackdoor‚ÄĚ reference in the name of this position is raising all sorts or red and blue and green and whatever other colour of flags…. Where is his dong going??? In the sausage wallet (the P) or the butt a.k.a backdoor??? DO NOT attempt this!!! Seriously though, what could be so horribly broken about your relationship that either one or both of you feel the need to over-compensate in this way??? Holy Crap, this¬†position scares the bejezzuz outta me!! However,¬†if you and your partner are able to carry this out (and I shall require both photographic evidence for this…), then I shall crown you Master and Mistress of All Things Sexual. ūüėÄ *Hands you¬†sceptre¬†and crowns*

7. The Pogo Stick:


The Pogo Stick

How it works: Basically, the guy crouches down, lifts you up before standing back up and pulling you down. He somehow manages to hold you on his dong, in mid-air, facing forward, AND simultaneously alternating crouching and standing repeatedly.  OK.

My Take:¬†Do you have the abdominal strength to hold yourself in that position? Unless you are an have Gwen Stefani kind of rock-hard abs, NO. And even if you do, does he have the arm strength to keep you from falling backwards and cracking your head open?¬†One slip, and you‚Äôre likely to hear a sharp snapping sound and the sound of a man crying……¬†There are just too many moving parts here for this to end in anything but an¬†embarrassing¬†hospital visit with a variety of injuries ranging from skull fractures to penis fractures to spinal injuries. (and let’s not forget, a whole lot of crying.) Unless this position is the very last thing left on your bucket list, please steer clear…

Now that Valentine’s Day is around the corner, I implore you to please, take a long hard look at your relationship. Have a frank discussion about your feelings and find other pleasant, more pleasurable and far LESS dangerous to explore and show your feelings and for heaven’s sake, leave this madness behind!! ūüėČ Just because it CAN be done, does not mean it SHOULD be done…. heeeheeehee. If you need a diagram (or an illustration/demonstration) to figure out what to put where and how to do it, should you even be¬†attempting¬†it??? But who am I to say they are impossible? Maybe if I got out and actually tried them out instead of reading about them and looking at drawings, I might actually do the impossible! Lol. Just kidding. I am never, never, ever even thinking of trying to attempt any of them! I like my bones just the way they are. Intact. So I shall stick to my single, kamasutra-browsing lane for now.

Now you crazy kids, get out there and have fun. And don’t forget to be safe. AIDS is real y’all….