The Venerable, Vivavious, Vexing, and Voluptuous
January 4, 2014 § 14 Comments
“Let’s see. It tastes like a freshly-baked cake. The sweet scent permeates everything in the room. It tastes quite like honey, too! It never smells. It’s almost always moist and wet. It always fits and clamps around you like a screwdriver gripping a nail. Nothing, and I do mean nothing compares to it! Nothing!!”
Have I ever told you I can be really mean? I paused after intently stressing that last “nothing.” I then cooly sunk backwards into the wall. She stopped and almost froze in place. Her shoulders slowly fell as the paddle slowly slip from her grip. Her head hung low just as her back slouched into one of those depressing-looking gaunt and anaemic pictures of starving refugees. I’d never seen her so quiet. Her legs still rested on those metal anchors on the crow-pot. For a few seconds, I wondered if she’d forget I was there and lift up her cloth to compare hers to what I had just said. It was not easy to watch.
Here’s a bit of advice to anyone whose self-esteem and sense of self-worth aren’t exactly on solid ground: never ask your jokester friend a question you aren’t sure if its answer is something you want to know!
“No! There is no difference between a white girl’s vagina and yours!,” I shouted out!
I calmed her down without further pickaxing away at her obviously fragile self esteem.You can’t fault her. I’m very honest and easy to talk to about virtually everything.
So, I lied. There ARE differences besides color. No, I won’t tell you what they are…pervs! ;P
But this essay isn’t going to be about that. In my 30+ months in Ghana, I’ve been unwittingly entreated to some very perplexing, intriguing, and often times bemusing attitudes about sex- or more specifically about the vagina.
At first, I thought my experiences were largely attributed to these jonny-come-lately from the hinterland and their rather bonobo monkey-like attitudes about sex. But then I noticed that the coiffed, pius, phony and pretentious DBs were just as, if not more nuts about sex.
And me, you wonder? All I’ll say is this:
…Ha! Did you really think I’d be confessing on wordpress how big a horny toad I am? Lmao. Dream on!
I don’t imagine I’ll get any feedback, so I’m simply using today as a white wall. But what’s the obsession? I’ve seen everyone and their mother sell it. I’ve known mother and daughter doing pastor…who often preaches violently against fornication. I even know public/social personalities who sell theirs. They may not call it selling, but it definitey fits the definition. It’s been virtually reduced to a battering commodity. Earn this much; pay this much, buy this item, provide this service; present this (valued) look… and you can get me. I recently got this used Audi A4- “executive” car, someone called. Do you know how much tail I’ve been indirectly offered just because of that car?! Some women are unabashed about how frank they are in how they see their vag- or more profoundly, how they view it in terms of its cash value. Got money? I can show you a woman in your “class” ready to sell her goodies.
But let’s take a few steps back from this vagina-for-sale tangent before I lose track of what got me writing. Actually, I’ll try something here, but bear with me.
to be cont… 😛