Real girls in their own place.
Not too crazy and just a pinch of naughty...
I know this sounds shitty but, I’ve dated a lot of useless humans.
I had a boyfriend once, who technically wasn’t my boyfriend because he still introduced me as his friend to anyone and everyone, even though we’d been together for about eight months. Wasn’t I such a good FRIEND for letting him crash at my place for two months?
He was a real treat. A real pal. Such a buddy!
Let me preface this by saying that when I was dating this particular loser, I was just coming out of a very toxic relationship, so I was still a bit fucked up in the brain; I made poor, poor choices.
I’m going to bypass all the boring reasons of why he sucked (never actually took me on a date, told me I was pathetic…OK so he was a self-proclaimed recovering heroin addict who got beyond drunk every night, etc normal shithead biznass) and give you the good reasoning behind my irritation with this capital B, Bro.
I know that everyone has their ‘things’ or their ‘kinks, quirks, whatevers.’ I accept that and think it’s great when people are tapped into their own needs and desires. I am a sexual being and am perfectly okay with trying new things as long as they are presented to me in a respectful and open, communicative manner. However, if your partner is not keen on them, do not force them onto them! Be it in a joking matter or otherwise, humor is not an excuse to be a jerk!
I was not laughing the first time I took a shower with my darling ‘FRIEND’ and turned around only to find he was cackling hysterically with his shitty penis peeing on my leg.
Peeing. On me.
Without my consent or amusement.
Now, you’d think I’d cut that shit out right then and there and be like, “Hey BUDDY, you’re great but don’t ever do that to me again or this little weird arrangement we have is donezo.”
No, I just proceeded to smack his chest in that way that idiot girls (And guys? I guess? I’m sure that’s happened?) do and yowled ‘stop itttt!’
He kept laughing and I pushed him out of the shower.
Let me repeat, I was not doing well in the brain department.
Although I was really disgusted, I still decided to give him another chance and let it go. You could also read that as I was lonely and pretty much let anyone love me who said they would. Totally your call.
Fast forward a few months later in the relationship and my BFF but not BF is now living at my apartment because he got evicted and needed somewhere to stay while he was ‘apartment shopping.’
I’m really good at picking em, you guys!!!
He didn’t really have too much stuff moved into my place because we (me) were hoping that he’d find his own place soon and not have to move everything around all over again.
We’d had a really nice night. I’d made dinner, we hadn’t fought that day and we had my apartment to ourselves. I had to work early the next morning,so I decided to call it a night. I hopped into the shower, not a care or thought in my crazy brain. I had the delicious hot water running down my face, soap falling down my chest. Feeling real good. As I washed my hair, I felt someone step into the shower with me. “Aw how sweet. He wants to shower with me and appreciate my adorable self. Whatta babe.”
I heard him laughing and everything froze. It was like a horror movie. The kind where the girl closes the medicine cabinet and BAM! there’s some horrific thing behind her.
I turned around slowly and there, there it was. His nasty dick. Urinating on my lovely, once clean bottom. Everything that had been going on in this relationship up until this point all came boiling up into my brain, like an angry movie montage. I saw red; I was livid. I was done. He was so done. I would not half-heartedly kitty-scratch him or throw a tantrum or just shrug it off this time.
I dumped him. Right there in the shower. I told him to get his fucking stuff and get his shitty penis out of my house. I was going to finish my shower, he could go pee on someone else.
I was finally able to make an appointment with my waxer this morning for a bikini wax. She had been away on vacation for a couple weeks, and my patience was wearing thin, while other things were growing…OK, you get the point.
My waxer’s name is Tanya, and she is the Russian mother you never knew you wanted. I love her because she is affordable and fast. Tanya takes no hesitation to wax, strip, and rip.
A lot of places make a whole production of the thing, belaboring every single strip of wax. I think it’s because most estheticians are nice young women who are embarrassed by putting their hands all up in lady parts (not that I blame them). The end result is a painful forty minute appointment.
Not Tanya though. I am in and out in 10 minutes! AND, she plays CNN and discusses politics with you like you’re a real human. Like it’s not degrading at all to have someone say, “turn over,” so they can rip the hair out of your ass.
Anyway, I finally made the appointment because it had been a long time, and it was just my birthday so I’m still in a “treat yo’self” mindset. (Also, I may or may not be involved in a second MIMP shoot this week…)
I told Tanya that I wanted a bikini wax, but you know, the whole thing.
“Of course the whole thing,” she said.
“Does anyone just do the old fashioned bikini wax anymore?”
“No, not at all. Everything off. I have a 75 year old woman who does a full bikini and her legs,” she said matter of factly.
WHAT??? News to me! Now I’m debating if I should leave a little something, something behind…
P.S. I know guys don’t really care either way; I do it for myself, but what do you guys think? Is it better to wax or go au naturale?
(THIS IS HAPPENING NOW ON THE INSTAGRAM!)
Hey MAMO fans!
It’s Selfie Sunday over on the MIMP Instagram today! Tag your photos with #mimp #selfiesunday if you want to be featured on the Instagram or right here on the Selfie Sunday Highlights tomorrow.
If you’d rather be discrete, please email your photos to MAMOGIRLS@gmail.com. It still counts!
You can also use that email to send any MAMO pitches to the editor to be featured here on the site…
Ok, full confession: I’m not actually naked right now. But, the title got your attention, amirgiht?!
My purpose here is not to parade around in my skivvies shooting tempting glances at the photographer – the girls of MIMP have that on lock. My purpose here, whether real or imagined, is to get you to think.
As you might have imagined, I think a lot. Like, A LOT. About not-insignificant things and, I’ve learned, a desire to have deep conversations about race and gender and the intersection of all things that make humans interesting and flawed does not make you Ms. Popular.
Given my social nature, I’ve found that my desire to have friends generally trumps my interest in digging into their deepest, darkest fears and the things that I talk about are not generally based on my “naked” thoughts – the thoughts that emerge from the damp, dark recesses of my mind, but are suppressed by my years of social conditioning.
And I imagine it’s the same for you.
The things that come out of our mouths are very rarely the things that we are thinking. The conversations that we have are usually based on some derivative notions or insignificant ideas we have about how the world works or should work.
But, at any rate, they are of the things that we have been told are acceptable in civilized society. On occasion, in small groups of like-minded individuals, you can tap into the things that you’re probably too scared to admit in public, but the exhilaration of those moments is so fleeting and the oppressive sense of loss when the moment passes encourages most to stay in the comfort zone that’s been created for them.
What would MIMP be if all these lovely women just played it safe? BORING. So let’s get naked! Let’s talk about the things we never thought we’d talk about. I’ll share a story and maybe it will help you feel free to share yours. Either way – let’s start a real conversation. A naked conversation.
When I was six years old, I was riding the bus to school and talking to an older, female student who I remember being friends with – as much as anyone can be friends with a first grader. To be honest, she was probably in sixth grade, but she seemed like an adult to me. She was, however, old enough to flirt and have someone flirt back. Having no understanding of these sorts of dynamics, when some boy came over and started giving her a hard time, I felt like I needed to stick up for my friend. And I did.
And his response was that I was ugly.
I wish I could say that it didn’t have any effect, but clearly I still remember it. And it hurt. I had never thought much about the way I looked – BECAUSE I WAS SIX – but suddenly, the knowledge that my appearance had any sort of bearing on how other people perceived me was mind-blowing.
Growing up, I was always only one of the few people of color in every school that I attended and, while I never felt like that held me back, I never felt that I quite satisfied the high standard that was set by all the blonde and blue-eyed belles around me. I judged myself harshly and others even more so for failing to meet my ideals.
Of course, people do grow and change. I can honestly say that I am less concerned with what others things than I used to be. I would be lying, though, if I said that I had somehow risen above a shallow preoccupation with looks and embraced everyone’s difference. I wanted to be pretty then, and I still want to be pretty, which is not easy to admit. That is something that I don’t like about myself.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. It seems like I am constantly meeting or hearing about inspiring women who make me want to be a better person and encourage me to share some of my baggage because even if doesn’t help others, it helps me to let go of it – the first step is admitting you have a problem, after all.
So, was it good for you too?
P.S. Get excited for me to show you a little more than my mind on the MIMP App soon with a self portrait set, “A Day With Valarie.”