Posts Tagged With: sex

The Reality of Responsibility

*disclaimer – Skrap is not a father though he is open to the idea of having a rugrat of his own one day. Perhaps because of this fact he is not the best possible author for this subject but, as you see, it didn’t stop him from writing on it anyway. Go ahead, start reading.


Hey all, first of all I want to apologize for the extended delay between blogs here. Between the last blog and this one I was lucky enough to get a contract gig in the field that I love (marketing) and I’ve been busy trying to impress so that this short term contract turns into something a little more permanent. Hopefully you’ll accept my apology, if not, then just blah to you and yours.

Obviously, last weekend was Father’s Day. For me, and many others, Father’s Day allows the opportunity to show love and appreciation to the patriarchs in our lives, those that have made a positive impact on not only their children, but also to the entire family unit. Families across the nation gather and shower the man of the house with ties, socks, cologne and of course the two largest pieces of chicken all in a show of love to that man that has unselfishly given so much of himself to make sure that his family doesn’t have to go without.

Obviously and regrettably in our society, however, not everyone was as lucky to have a loving and worry filled father like I and many others have. There are many men that have chosen to walk away from the children that they had a hand in making. Perhaps they think themselves above having to deal with a child and the demands they would make on their lives. Maybe they felt that their plans were too important to give up for something unforeseen like an unplanned child. Some men just choose to bounce leaving a large amount of women high and dry with a child to raise armed with barbs about “deadbeat dads” and “no good brothas”. A number of these women spent a good amount of time on Father’s Day shouting themselves out, saying that most men didn’t deserve any respect or “props” on Father’s Day because they have left a large number of single mothers doing the job themselves; and saying that men within “The Community” have little to no sense of responsibility.

Hmmm…speaking of responsibility.

Whenever I hear of an absentee father my first emotion is sadness. Fathers offer so much in the lives of their children that they miss out on when there is a strong male figure in the house on a daily basis. It’s not the fault of the child that the father decided not to stay, but I’ll tell you something else, that mother – that  woman that you’re listening to that goes on and on about everything that is wrong with the father of that child – has more than her fair share of fault on her hands too.

Now, this is not at all an effort to excuse men that skip out on their responsibility to the child they make as there are no excuses for that. What it is, however, is me flashing the “C’mon Son” sign at these women that conveniently forget that the baby didn’t get there without a little input (pun intended) of their own. With some of the carrying on my only visual is that in that bedroom, or hotel room, or park bench, or wherever they were that day/evening/night there were two lawyers, one for the young lady and another for the young man. Before anyone in this scenario got naked or the least bit horizontal there were negotiations and stipulations and detailed information shared between the two parties explaining what could happen as a result of the bumping and grinding that was about to take place. After the information was shared, both parties signed off on a 3 page contract stating they understood said risks and promised to handle any situation that arose as a result of said sexual activity. After that, one of the lawyers lit some candles, the other one hit play on the Ipod playlist entitled “My ‘Get Some’ Music” and they left the room where you were then free to sex to your heart’s content knowing that everything would be okay should any surprises pop up.

But that’s not the way it happens is it?

No one has a lawyer on retainer. No one talked you through the risks. No one gave you any papers to sign, right? It was just sex…and since there aren’t any Lifetime movies written and directed in your honor I’m gonna go ahead and guess that it was sex that you consented to, perhaps more than once. Sex you probably liked a lot with a dude that you thought was fine, or cute, or who had – ugh! – swagger. In short, you are where you are because you contributed to it.

I commented on this fact on my Facebook page and I was equal parts applauded and skewered because of it. While the proper response to this situation is not to point fingers back at the accusers and say, “You did it too!” like a 5-year-old, it is important to remind those that like to sit back and talk about how their “baby daddy ain’t shit” that the baby daddy in question got permission from you to engage in the process that created that life. So while you cry about a “Deadbeat Dad” it could be equally said that a woman is engaging in Irresponsible Vaginal Ownership. It’s unlikely that one of these exists without the other.

I refuse to make an excuse for a man that bolts on his responsibilities to his child; likewise, I choose not to listen to the rants and outbursts from a woman that forgets that she was open (pun completely intended) to the idea that created the life that binds both of you knuckleheads now. But if you have a female friend that just has to complain, if she simply can’t see that she had a role, can you at least tell her to clam up about it on Father’s Day because that’s not the day to fume about those fathers that won’t or didn’t…it about those that will and do.

~thanks for reading, say ouch if you have to.

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Categories: Attempts at Seriousness, Family, Relationships, So Incredibly Random | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

The Jillian Problem

Hey all. I’m a huge fan of the show Family Guy. A few seasons ago one of the characters, Brian, was in a relationship with a young lady named Jillian, a beautiful blonde with a nicely drawn body who was also about as dumb as a box of rocks. The back and forth between Brian, an intellectual, and Jillian, a half wit, was oft times hilarious and perfectly illustrated the lengths that some of us guys will go to just to have a beautiful woman on our arm…but is that illustration realistic or just for kicks and giggles by Seth MacFarlane and his crew of writers? According to a few friends of mine that situation is not too far from fiction.

I wrote a blog a few days ago that told of a roundtable with some of my friends, during that conversation there was a consensus that when we’re talking about the ideal woman we would much rather have a woman with intelligence. What I didn’t expect from sharing that was that a couple of my friends remarked that men wanting a intelligent woman wasn’t realistic, rather, men wanting a less than bright bulb as a mate has made some women act a little dumber than they are for the sake of getting attention from a man. In the case of Brian from the aforementioned Family Guy he knew going in that Jillian was a few doughnuts short of a dozen but he remained in the relationship because of her good looks and what I’m guessing might have been some great animated sex. Jillian wasn’t acting the part or dumbing herself down in order to gain the affections of a man, it’s simply who she was; but apparently something, likely desperation, is causing this to happen in real women in these times. I found that hard to believe but I’m told that this actually happens and I have no reason to think that my people would lie to me.

I won’t count myself as the smartest man on the planet, mySATscores didn’t blow any schools on my list away and my high school and collegiate GPA left a but to be desired but my subjects and verbs agree 97% of the time and I’ve read more than 17 books so I think that makes me a little intelligent. Even in my “tad bit intelligence” I can honestly say that I’ve never wanted a dumb girl, and more than that, I wouldn’t want an intelligent girl that was acting dumb just to get my affections. That seems incredibly, well, unintelligent. I asked around and the reasoning that I got was that men are intimidated by a woman that can hold her own mentally so women have to pump the brakes on their mental acumen in order to not chase guys away because Lord knows said woman will end up alone if she lets on that she’s interested in more than the color of her next pair of shoes. While there may be a little truth to the intimidation factor in some cases (I’ll go ahead and just speak for me here, I won’t assume other guys feel this way) I’ve still never wanted a dimwit, that’s just no fun, it’s like playing Madden against the kid down the street that was born with no thumbs, sure you win by a large margin but you know that your opponent was overmatched.

I’m guessing that some dudes would want a dull knife for obvious reasons (easier to coerce into horizontal dealings) but I would still like to think that guys are not at all the dinosaurs that we’re suggested to be. More than that, I would love to think that women aren’t falling victim to the fallacy that men aren’t willing to deal with a woman that actually chooses to use and take advantage of her brain so she chooses to play dumb just because. Is this true? Men, do you like an intelligent woman or do you chase after the lesser thans because they are an easier target? Women, are you true to yourself or are you “playing Jillian” and holding back who you truly are in order to keep your man options high? It seems odd to even have to ask this but since it was brought up to me I figured I might as well put it out there and see what sticks. Let me know what you think.

~thanks for reading

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Categories: Attempts at Seriousness, Relationships, So Incredibly Random | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

No Sympathy For Your Drought, Ladies…

Hey all! While perusing the internet thingamajig as I typically do on a daily basis I happened upon a message board that I like to read every now and again to pass the time. It’s quite the social place; I wonder how any of these people are able to keep their jobs what with the amount of posting that they do on this website. Anyway, I was cruising through thread after thread of conversations when I saw a group of women standing around the virtual water cooler discussing, no, lamenting the fact that they hadn’t had any, ummm, horizontal mambo time in some time. One young lady admitted to a 3 month stint, another whined about a 8 month stretch and yet another said that she had just crossed over a year, the poor thing. So obviously I stretched out my typing fingers and typed two words to the lot of them – “Your Fault!” I don’t want to hear it, ladies, and I’ll tell you why.

I typed here in this very blog a few months ago about how women, through the power of the still undefeated, untied, and undisputed Champion of the universe located just south of the female waist, hold every last one of the keys to just about anything but especially sex. Especially sex! Because of this fact, I find it hard to feel sorry for a young lady’s dry spell (oh Lawd, please pardon that pun) because truthfully it’s a self inflicted wound. I’m not advising any woman to just go out and do this willy nilly but should a woman get a wild hair all she has to do is say to herself, “Self, I do believe we are gonna go get us some today!” and then go about making up, dressing up, then either finding a victim or going through her stable of stand-bys (because everyone has one) and cashing in a favor. Women have that ability to just decide to ‘service the vehicle” on demand because they can, they have the keys. Additionally save me the spiel about “We might be able to get some but it ain’t guaranteed to be the good stuff.” That’s true, but at this stage of life there’s a chance that you have developed a back and forth with at least one dude or two dudes that you know can get down sufficiently, right? And we’re men, we’re EASY, especially when you do that thing you do when you make us think that we’re getting over on you, right? I’m a dude. I’ve been had once or twice.

And on the man side of things, of course we may have a stable or a gaggle of go-to girls or perhaps even an old faithful that answers on the first ring but even then you hold the keys. We’re at your mercy until you give the go ahead. We have to bypass all the conversational gatekeepers – asking how your day was, whatever happened to that silly disagreement at work, is your car still making that noise, how’s your mother doing, et al – we listen to all the answers and rants that come with each of those inquiries in hopes of softening you enough that we can get to the “We haven’t hung out in a while, what are you doing tonight?’ inquiry because, of course, we have to mask our intentions in the guise of something else altogether in hopes of getting you to share space. All of this we have to do and, sure, sometimes we can just luck up sometimes and say, “Look, you with it or not?” and get a positive response but you can’t always play that card because that can get you blacklisted, especially if you’re dealing with the non-hoodrat variety. All of this has to be taken into consideration, every word, every move, every action, because if there’s even a hair out of place we’re done and our drought continues because women, all of you, hold the keys to just about everything.

Especially sex.

Because you hold those keys, ladies, I don’t feel for you and your 8 month droughts; that’s like owning a Ferrari and leaving it in the garage because you don’t feel like hearing the engine rev. If you’re a woman that actually wants to get down with the sideways salsa like these women were and you haven’t done so in a stretch of time then quite frankly you’ve got no one to blame but yourself, it’s sloth at its best. Of course, I guess it’s a good thing that the “keys” were handed to the gender with the most restraint because Lord knows if we had them the universe would implode upon itself out of sheer hedonistic overload. There’s something to be thankful for.

All of this to say, ladies, cry me a river. You’re making it hard on yourself instead of hard for yourself by simply not starting the ignition on your little pink corvettes. You’ve got the keys, you’ve always had them, go ahead, take it for a spin, but don’t expect sympathy, least of all from me, because unlike you there’s hard work involved in ending our droughts…hard, laborious, conversation filled work. 🙂

~thanks for reading and have a great weekend!!!

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Categories: Humor, Relationships, So Incredibly Random | Tags: , , , , | 5 Comments

Intimacy in Reverse…

Kiss. It’s more than a 70’s glam rock band or a funky little ditty by Prince but it’s the most recognizable show of affection in the world. There are several firsts in all of our lives but there are few that stick with us like our first kiss, not the playful peck on the lips that we get when we’re on the playground in the 5th grade, or in my case the 2nd, but that serious first kiss; that eyes closed, head tilted, tight embrace, tongue dancing kiss that leaves us breathless at its conclusion.

I know where mine was.

I thought I’d been kissed until Cheryl, a piano playing performing arts student at my high school, really let me have it in the Avondale Mall arcade next to the Pop-A-Shot machine. I think I legitimately heard angels singing while Cupid beat-boxed a smooth groove in my ear as she taught me the way of the grown up kiss that afternoon after school. For the entirety of our torrid 5 week 10th grade love affair we spent a lot of time repeating that feat until we did what most high school sophomores who think they are in love do, we broke up. But the kisses didn’t stop, they continued with the next girlfriend, and the one after that; and it got to the point that kisses really weren’t all that big a deal. In fact, a girl didn’t even have to be a girlfriend anymore as kissing was no longer a girlfriend thing, it had degenerated to a simple mark maker; to send her back into her parents’ house just before her curfew thinking, “Damn, he was a really good kisser” and be anxious to go out with me again sometime soon. The kiss, which had started as something shared with that one special girl, had become nothing more than a high school aged calling card that said, “If you want some more of this lip action, baby, you know exactly where to find me…but don’t call after11pm because my parents don’t like that.” I’m guessing that it’s very much the same now.

Intimacy is a lost art probably because most people don’t know what it really is. Things have graduated to the point now that if you asked a random teenager on the street what intimacy is, the chances are likely that he or she would immediately equate it to sex. Even among adults there seems to be a disconnect with how to show affection to someone of the opposite sex without knowing the locatation of their birthmark and where all their moles are. And while there are several ways to show affection to your love, significant other, girlfriend, boyfriend, boo, shawty, or sweetheart there is only one that openly denotes to the outside world that this person that you see me with is mine.

And that’s holding hands.

No matter how much a woman thinks her man is the sh*t and no matter how good he lays it to you when you need it laid down that dude ain’t really feeling you if he’s not willing to get you by the hand and walk at least a city block holding onto you, and not that BS locking pinkies mess either where we can immediately disengage if one of our boys should pop up further down the block. The same thing works in reverse, if a dude is on some real Ralph Tresvant “Sensitivity” type stuff and is reaching for a lady’s hand while out and about and she steady reaching in her purse for something instead of grabbing back then it’s likely dude is nothing more than a jump off that is simply blessed to spend the afternoon with her in public for a change. Back to the original point though, when we have you by the hand that’s a declaration to whomever, our boys, our ex that we run into downtown, and whoever else we come across that this one right here is the one that we’re ridin’ with. Anything less than that and you’re just some chick that we’re walking next to that we can quickly label a friend if a cutie in a form fitting sundress walks by.

My most recent girl would often check me, “Lock my fingers!”, she would say as we walked down the street or in the mall or in the park and I would, not because she was crazy and I was afraid of her – much – but because she was mine and I wanted to because she was my chick, inside and out, vertically and horizontally. Most dudes are too cool to put themselves out there like that but it’s amazing what we’re willing to do for the right woman.

This is just my opinion though, strangely enough, a number of this new breed of woman out here really doesn’t check for that type of connection anymore long as you get her a new bag or feed her shoe habit a little bit, so your results with your lady may vary. Just know that kissing is passé, and sex while entertaining and fabulous exercise isn’t the intimate act that it once was; if you’re looking for a way to know if someone is really checking for you, ask them to hold your hand in public, they get extra points if they do it at the beach or the mall or anyplace that would damage their chances to hook up elsewhere.

To the group, what are your thoughts? What’s intimacy to you and your mate and how do you show it? Is it a spiritual connection? A physical one? Is it even important to you in the first place if someone shows in a public way that they belong to you and you them? Share and share alike and have a great weekend.

~thanks for reading

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Categories: Decatur Stories, Humor, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

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