Wednesday, December 29, 2010


It was a six month relationship consisting mainly of sex...amazing sex. There were some dates here and there but they both preferred ordering takeout and ‘Blockbuster’ nights followed by passionate lovemaking sessions. It was clear their mutual attraction was mainly physical...they couldn’t seem to get on the same page about much of anything else. As with all relationships founded on sex, it started to fade when both realized they needed more than physical satisfaction and began to look in other places to meet their spiritual and emotional needs. The conversations became fewer and the ‘dates’ far and between. A month had passed since the last time they saw each other, both had moved on and were exploring new relationships. Out of sight, out of mind is true, especially when someone else is occupying the time they once shared together.

Coincidentally they separately decided to attend a casual ‘day party’ in the city one Sunday afternoon. She was there talking with a group of friends when he walked in. Her back was turned but her girlfriend immediately noticed him, noticing her. As he passed her girlfriend leaned and whispered to her that he had arrived. It’s always uncomfortable running into ‘the ex’ for the first time after the split, she hoped she could maintain her composure.

For the remainder of the event he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, she pretended not to see him looking as she nonchalantly glided past him without looking in his direction or speaking. Sometimes you do not have to say a word or even make eye contact to identify a connection... there was no denying that their magnetic attraction between them was still there.

Later that evening she was still thinking about him. She decided to send him a simple message, “it was good to see you, hope you are well.” He quickly replied, “you too”. Although she was hoping for a warmer response to her contact she reminded herself that he was no longer in her life for a reason and it is for the best that she make no further attempts to contact him. That situation did not need to be resurrected. Let it die, she told herself.

Late the next evening he called, he hasn’t been able to get her off his mind and he wanted to see her. She felt the same so she consented to him coming last time won’t hurt. As he was driving to her house he called...she answered quickly thinking he may have gotten lost, what he said caught her totally off guard. He has a new woman who lives with him and she is ‘expecting’.....but he still wants to come over. She experienced a sudden and extreme range of emotions...from angry, to hurt, to betrayed, to disappointed. He continued on his path there and insisted that he must see her one last time. Reluctantly she agreed.

When she opened the door he was already staring into her eyes. Without saying a word he followed her up to the bedroom. He sat next to her...she looked at him and started to cry. Even she was unsure of the source of her tears. She could accept that he moved on, but a baby? How long had this been going on? How did this happen so fast? So many questions swirled thought her mind. She was upset that he had obviously been lying to her about being involved with other women and she began to lash out at him. He grabbed her and started to kiss her tears. Overwhelmed with emotions she did not object to his advances...she wanted to be comforted. One kiss led to another, it was intense and passionate. She felt guilty for being with him while he had a woman at home but she believed that he was hers first and she deserved this closure. He got dressed and she walked him to the door. They shared a long hug and wished each other well. It was absolutely the last time and they both knew it. She went upstairs, deleted his number and went to sleep.

Three weeks later her period was late. The pregnancy test was positive and there was no doubt in her mind that it was his. She couldn’t call him so she sent him an email saying that they needed to talk. He responded “I’m married.”

"Women might be able to fake an orgasm but men can fake a whole relationship" - Sharon Stone

Monday, December 27, 2010


Today broke my #1 dating rule....

I would call myself a ‘go getter’...especially in my career. I pride myself in having the ability to walk up to a complete stranger who I want to network with, introduce myself and turn that connection into a meaningful relationship. My ‘elevator speech’ is pretty impressive, not to mention I am charming, witty and confident. Professional peers have called me abrasive, dominating, cold...I am a dog in the “boardroom” I will attack and devour. I get what I want. There is no place for emotions or hesitation when it comes to business. Its survival of the fittest and I’m completing triathlons. If only I could carry that confidence over into my personal life when it comes to men.

Believe it or not....I AM SHY. I have never had the courage to approach a man or make an advance at a man I thought was attractive. I’m so picky, I rarely see anyone I am attracted to and when I do I don’t say anything, I will just let them pass me. My friends often tease me because I’m old fashioned. I believe a man should choose. If I learned nothing else from my experience with men I learned this.... they go for what they want...and they will go HARD. I never made the first move because I don’t want to appear desperate or easy. My logic is “If I see him then he must see me and if he doesn’t express interest then he must not be interested.”

Today that “logic” I’ve been carrying around for 31 years went out the door. It started with a picture on Facebook. YES FACEBOOK. He was tagged on a photo with one of my friends. I clicked on his name and started to scroll down his wall but I didn’t want to be a stalker so I closed the page and resumed reading my book. No matter how hard I tried to occupy my mind I could not stop wondering about him. I was curious so I logged back on and started looking through his pictures. He intrigued me. I liked how he held his body, I liked his smile and how he was interacting with his friends on the photos. Stalker shit, I know. Then I looked at his information to check his relationship status...he didn’t have one. This could mean one of two things: 1) He is in a relationship and doesn’t want to put it on the table or 2) he is single but doesn’t want to attract too much attention. I had to find out so I decided to send him a message.

As much as I complain about how annoyed I get when men send me “eHarmony-type” messages I was about to commit the #1 Facebook sin...sending a complete stranger a non business related message with the intention of ‘hollering’. So many questions ran though my mind....what should I say?? What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks I’m a stalker? Men always approach me so I didn’t have any pickup lines or witty word play. I realized I was totally over thinking the situation so I sent him a message titled “Marry Me” I figured if that doesn’t scare him off then he has a sense of humor and he doesn’t take things too seriously. I don’t know how it will turn out...I hope to at least get to know him a little. All I know is I chose him and when a woman chooses she chooses.


When I meet a new man of interest I proceed with caution...I view the potential relationship with optimism but reluctance...don’t want to move too fast, get too comfortable, or stake my claim because there are so many things that could go wrong to affect the outcome and as soon as I let my guard down that is when I am most vulnerable and easily hurt...and I don’t want that.

In 2008 I treated the Presidential election similar to the way I approach a potential courtship...I maintained a safe distance...I wouldn’t wear a shirt, post a bumper sticker, or even make a campaign donation...I would not get involved, I tried my best to play it cool...

My reason is not because I did not believe in OBAMA and have a real desire to see change in our fact I wanted it so badly that fear of being let down, my fear of him losing would not allow me to embrace the idea, the joy, the excitement, the COURTSHIP of the campaign. I would not allow myself to enjoy the mere possibility of his win and not focus on the possibility that things would not go the way I wanted them to. And like I perceive the dating game, the anticipation of the election was too much, the lack of control too great, the uncertainty of the outcome not even worth the effort to get involved.

I fought hard not to get too attached to the idea of finally having a Black President of the United States....I watched as my friends, family, colleagues and the majority of my country rallied behind this man...but I could not move, my heart could not take a monumental let down. I mean what if I REALLY got attached to the idea that Barack would be president....what would I do with all those t-shirts, bumper stickers if he lost? I even told myself that ‘they’ would not let it happen and not to let ‘them’ string me along again. ‘They’ won’t get me all pumped up and dangle a Black President in my face just to steal the election from him at the last minute...the same way ‘they’ did the last candidate I put my faith in.

And like many who secretly view the MySpace or Facebook pages of our person of interest to try to figure out which one of their ‘friends’ they are involved with based on the comments I did the same on CNN...I stayed glued to the channel every night following my candidate of interest trying to figure out what states he would win, how many electoral votes he would get and what the likelihood of him winning this historic election based on what the ‘polls’ are saying. And like MySpace...where the people doing the most posting are typically NOT people they even regularly communicate with...the people taking these telephone polls were typically NOT the constituency that I identified with because in this mobile millennium many of us don’t have home telephones for us to be polled.

Despite my reluctance, I most certainly would not forfeit my right to vote and to cast it in the state of Ohio – one of the most important states in determining who will win the I voted absentee. I sent off for my ballot, I mailed it in two weeks early. I didn’t stand in line to vote early like many others did...but I would have. Years of sexism, racism, disenfranchisement, and cheating had me skeptical...thinking “they are going to magically lose my ballot” and “they are not going to count all of those early votes because they know majority are for OBAMA”...why let us vote early now? I know they can throw them all away. My lack of faith in our voting system is not unwarranted...I mean we can bank electronically, trust ATMs to manage our money, send text messages and transmit information over the ‘World Wide Web’ but we cannot seem to put a reliable voting system in place to manage our democracy.

On the night of November 3, 2008 I could not sleep. My eyeballs burned but they were glued to CNN. At midnight when the first polls opened in Dixville Notch, New Hampshire...I was watching, and I watched as the majority cast their ballots for Barack Obama 15-6...a town that had not voted for a Democratic candidate since 1968...could this be an indicator the change we were all hoping for?

I watched CNN as they had their cameras on Chicago Midway airport waiting for OBAMA to land...I kept thinking ‘they are going to try to do something to his plane’ – I had to watch it until he touched down. I had to know that he was safe. I watched the polls all day as states one by one declared an OBAMA win. That evening I went to Justin’s Restaurant in Atlanta to watch the election reports come in among friends. The landslide victory came waiting all night into the morning for ballots to be counted, no doubt of who won. I was shocked, I was happy, I was embarrassed and ashamed that I did not do anything directly to contribute to this historic win. As Young Jeezy’s anthem “My President is Black” blared over the speakers I cried...I cried tears of sadness because I refused to open up and allowed myself to miss the courtship so many enjoyed. Most of all I cried tears of joy because I was witnessing history. I thought about my grandmother Natalie who passed away in September 2007 – she had witnessed so much in her 92 years on earth...I know she would not have been able to fathom a Black President of the United States in even her great-great-grandchildren’s lifetime.

My mother always tells me about what she was doing in 1968 when Martin Luther King, Jr. was devastated the country it seemed as if the last great leader was gone...our only hope for true equality. But now, 40 years later I have witnessed what some people never thought would happen, especially the people who lived in the era where Blacks were sprayed with hoses and beat and hung...this was not that long ago. I was overwhelmed. Barack had already made a change before he has even been sworn into office. He had changed me...he restored my hope in the possibility of possibilities....and my heart and mind is now open.

Sam Cooke echoes in the background of my mind... “it’s been a long time comin...but I know a change gon come”’s here and I believe.

*I wrote this the day after Barack Obama was elected, found it in my archives and decided to share

Sunday, December 26, 2010

In the modern age of dating people often “Google” someone to see what the internet has to say about them. Years ago I was talking to a man long distance for a few months and I was starting to consider being more serious with him and possibly taking things to the next level. He was an athlete but kept a pretty low public I thought. One day I was online bored and decided to ‘Google’ him just to see what pops up. The first page of results just showed information about his college and professional big deal...but it was the second page that told the story. Unbeknownst to me there are several online forums where ‘groupies’ and bitter ex girlfriends go to vent about athletes and celebrities. His name appeared on a thread in a forum of one of those websites. Before I clicked the link I asked myself if I really wanted to know what they had to say about him. Maybe I should find out the kind of man he is myself and not concern myself with his ‘reputation’. Curiosity killed me.

With one click of my mouse there was no turning back....on the forum I read story after story about how ‘well endowed’ he was and his wonderful performance in the bedroom. NOT ONE woman complained. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy that he is not a ‘little man’ or disappointed because he appeared to be a ‘man whore.’ From the women of his past, and present I learned that he was a ‘ladies man’...he had a big penis that women loved and he knew it. His charm, good looks and millions were just added value. I decided not to move forward with my pending persuit of him...I just couldn’t take KNOWING I was a notch on his belt and I could not be confident with him in public knowing his reputation. He never knew why I pulled back and I wasn’t woman enough to admit that I had ‘Google’d” him and had been totally turned off by what I found.

In another instance I met a guy and went to “Google” him and found nothing. No Facebook, no Linked In, no social network presence and no mention of him online anywhere. It was as if he did not exist. I was not sure how to feel about that. Does that mean that he isn’t doing anything that is worthy of mention or maybe he is very private and keeps his life offline somehow. I should have been happy that his name and penis size wasn’t all over the internet, but then I doubted his credibility because he was such a mystery.

Before the internet we did not have the option of taking an uninvited glimpse into people’s lives...we only knew about them what they decided to share with us. The rest was to be found out when the time was right, and in some cases never at all. I understand “Googling” someone to confirm they aren’t a sex offender or a murder but are we going too far by entering into their previous dating experiences? How much information is simply ‘too much’? I do not make it a practice of using “Google” to get information about someone when I meet them. Despite all of the accessible tools of investigation I try to keep my relationships with people organic and let them grow without the influence of Google and social networks. In a time when everything is so accessible I do appreciate leaving things to the imagination and taking my time....but sometimes I still wonder what Google would have to say...

His wife is professional woman, a ‘good girl’. She was raised by a strong Christian woman to have all of the values and morals of a ‘good wife’....she cooks, cleans, she’s stunningly beautiful and she stays in shape, even after two children. He loves her and he is happy with her...but sometimes he needs more.

His heart beats faster as he turns the corner from Main Street onto Bulen Avenue. He checks his rear view and his side mirrors to be aware of his surroundings, its 7 p.m. and the sun is starting to set...he knows not to be in this neighborhood after dark. His speed reduces to a slow creep as he slowly stops a few yards from where she is standing. She walks towards him he admires the way her body moves...smooth, catlike. He notices the way her calves flex with each step in the black patent leather stilettos. The cut off jean mini skirt shows her toned thighs, her belly buttons peaks from under her white tank top, he can feel the blood flowing and he begins to rise.

She approaches the white BMW 745i and leans into the passenger side window, her breasts spilling from the top of her leopard print bra, her jet black curls frame her face and hang past shoulders. She parts her blood red lips “Hey Daddy, you looking for a good time?” He reaches over and opens the passenger side door and asks “What’s your name?” She climbed into the passenger seat. The tan leather seat clings to her thighs causing her dress to ride up...he turns and immediately notices that she isn’t wearing any panties..."Jada” she says with a smile.

She closes the door shut and he puts the car in drive...turning back onto the main road. Without a word she leans over the armrest, loosens his belt, unzips the Ralph Lauren Gabardine pants his wife had laid out for him that morning, and went to work. He continues to drive and struggles to maintain his composure as he pulls into the grocery store parking lot. He puts the car in park, leans back and closes his eyes. He could do nothing but grab her head as not to yell out in pleasure. She climbs into the driver’s seat and straddles him as she pushes the power seat button to recline...she is taking control of him. She is wild, she is uninhibited, and she doesn’t give a fuck who can see her. HE LOVES IT...but this is something his wife would never do.

After he is satisfied she climbs back to the passenger side, he quickly fixes his clothes and zips his pants. He readjusts his seat and turns the key in the ignition. He feels great, after a long day that is exactly what he needed, he leans in towards her kissing her affectionately on the lips to express his appreciation. He clicks on the radio and heads home in time for dinner. In his peripheral he watches his wife in passenger seat removing her wig, ruffling her short pixie and wiping the bright red lipstick from her lips....she gazes back at him and smiles. Jada was gone...but would return again soon....

Adopting an alter ego personality can allow a woman to let go of her inhibitions and insecurities. She can be the woman she’s always wondered about, do things she has always thought about but did not act on those thoughts in fear of being “inappropriate”. Men want a virgin and a whore. Role play is a healthy and fun way to spice up a relationship and allow your man to ‘be with another woman’ while still being with you. You can dress up and show out and then go back to your normal self when you are ready.

My name is LOLA...who are YOU going to be tonight?

Dawn from Dirty Money with her then boyfriend "Q" of Day 26 in their alter ego shoot

Thursday, December 23, 2010


The fragrance of fresh cilantro and lime fills the kitchen. A gold rimmed plate of beautifully garnished broiled honey glazed cilantro-lime salmon with jasmine rice and asparagus sits on the black granite counter. A wine glass and chilled distilled cucumber water have been placed on the table. She sways and sings along to Sade playing on the Bose system as she sets the table, " give me the sweetest taboo, that’s why I’m in love with you...” She is preparing dinner for someone very special so everything must be perfect. The soft flicker of candles lights the room leaving the scent of caramel cheesecake behind its flames. The ambiance has been set. She places the food on the table and smiles. “What a beautiful meal” she says to herself. She folds her hands to pray and bless the food she has prepared. She picks up the fork to take the first bite and smiles. The meal is perfect. Today is a celebration of herself, for herself, by herself. A PRIVATE PARTY.

She has spent most of her life in preparation for this day...the day when she could look in the mirror and appreciate and LOVE what she saw staring back at her. Self love can be the most difficult love to embrace but it is completely necessary in order to look within ourselves and see past our flaws, mistakes, failures and shortcomings to appreciate our strengths, accomplishments, blessings and the things that make us who we are.

SHE IS ME. Like most people I have always been my biggest critic, nothing I have ever done was good enough....for ME. For the greater part of my life I measured success and happiness against the ideas and lives of others. Based on THEM I always thought I could do more, know more, work harder, be smarter, have more money, be happier, prettier, thinner, more toned, live like the “Real Housewives” of whatever city....because obviously I felt that being Dawn Dickson was not good enough. I didn’t love who I was and my career, health and relationships with others were suffering because of it. The negativity I felt towards myself was radiating from my body and the energy I was putting out was attracting even more negativity. I was miserable.

I dug deep to identify the root of my dissatisfaction with myself and my inability to accept me for who I am. If I can’t love myself then how can I love anyone else? If I am unhappy inside how can I be positive? I had to teach myself how to love others through acts of love towards myself. I began to spend more time with myself, thinking, reading, meditating, practicing yoga, hosting private parties for myself...all to help me learn to love myself unconditionally. So far it has been an amazing journey...I am still on the path and I have a lot more growing to do but each day I celebrate the woman I am...and for first time in my life I love her and I believe she is good enough.

I’m having a private party...learning how to love me...celebrating the woman I’ve become” – India.Arie

Tuesday, December 21, 2010


He didn’t answer the door so she kicked his mutherfucking window in...with heels on, like Bruce mutherfucking Lee. She swift kicked it for a clean break. She didn’t even feel the glass cut her leg, or even notice the blood dripping down. She wasn’t even cold in a skirt, bare legged in 40 degree weather. She didn’t even care that it was 5 a.m. and her judgment was poor after consuming four glasses of Moscato and a few Patron shots. All that mattered to her was that HE was in there and HE was not answering and SHE WILL NOT BE IGNORED.

The BCBG heel shattered the glass and it flew inside the window on top of the bed where her boyfriend of 13 months was sleeping with another woman. “BITCH GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE” she screamed through the broken glass. “Nigga I know you heard me knocking..” As the woman screamed and reached for her clothes he yelled back “Are you crazy?! I'm calling the police!” He grabbed his phone to dial and she hollered “CALL THE MUTHAFUCKIN POLICE NIGGA BECAUSE THERE’S ABOUT TO BE A 1-8-7 UP IN HERE!”

It’s Sunday morning in March. The attractive blonde woman to my left got caught shoplifting at Walmart and is rambling about how she is going to post bond. The sobbing college student to my right partied too hard and got a DUI and she doesn’t want to call her parents. The woman across the room looks homeless...and she smells...and then there’s me...sitting here with blood crusted on my leg and ankle, a broken heel and one phone call....

There’s always that one person in our lives that will push us to our limits emotionally, mentally, and morally. A toxic blend of love, lust and hate combined to form a relationship that is meant to be destroyed. A person that takes you to the darkest place of your being, where you can’t even recognize yourself. We have all been there, but not all of us get to experience the rush of kicking out a house window. Was it worth the embarrassment of calling my friends to bail me out of jail or the one year probation the judge so "kindly" handed me over a prison stay? Maybe not. But it WAS worth the priceless look on his face when the glass fell on top of him, the only thing I regret is not wearing pants.

The MONEY, the HOUSE, and the KEYS to the RANGE

As the silver Range Rover made its way down I-95 we were silent. The tension in the car gave new meaning to the phrase ‘air so thick you could cut it with a knife’...we would need a chainsaw for this. The rain pounded against the windshield and the wipers moved fast and hard as the airport got closer by the second. He stared blankly at the road ahead of him paying no attention to me in the passenger seat. It was setting in that he was really sending me home and tears began to stream down my face....I sniffed loud enough for him to hear in hopes that he would notice my tears and feel a little sympathy. He wasn’t moved...he clicked the CD changer on and blasted a song by R&B group Jagged Edge...”you changed, you aren’t the girl that used to do things, the way I like it it’s a damn were on your way to the money, the house, the keys to the Range.....” ROVER that the one I was riding in. The ride from Boca Raton to West Palm Beach airport seemed to take forever....when we pulled up to the airport he got out of the car, sat my bags on the curb and pulled off. I had just tbeen dumped.


He greeted me at the airport with hugs and kisses, it had been a few weeks since we spent time together and we were both looking forward to this weekend. He complimented me on what I was wearing...a coral colored ruffled blouse with snug jeans that fit in all the right places. Nails and toes French manicured, hair flowing, smelling good, all for him. We smiled and held hands on the drive to the condo to get changed for dinner. He invited one of his best friends (“Ben”) to join us and we rode together. As we arrived in the valet of Ruth Chris Steakhouse his phone rang and he quickly was obviously another woman on the line (you can always tell by the tone of voice). ‘SHE’ obviously asked him what he was doing and he replied “Ben and I are pulling up to dinner....” I didn’t hear anything else after that. ALL I heard is that he completely omitted me from the dinner party. I instantly got a warm feeling all over, my stomach was in a knot and my throat was dry. I turned to look at him as he continued to chat and I said in a matter-of-fact tone loud enough for HER to hear...”you don’t see me sitting here?” He turned to me in shock. He was pissed. I didn’t care. How could he have the nerve to not only talk to another woman in my presence and explain his whereabouts to her...but he LEFT ME OUT as if I wasn’t there. NO SIR! He ended his conversation turned to me and coolly remarked “I can’t believe you did that” and got out of the car. He didn’t bother to explain or apologize. He thought I was wrong.

I sat through dinner as he and “Ben” talked and laughed. He never addressed me. He didn’t look in my direction once. He didn’t speak to me on the ride home, didn’t utter a word when it was time for bed, slept as far away as possible from me in bed that night, and got up and carried on with his day in the morning as if I wasn’t there. At least 8 hours passed without a word from him. Finally, at 11 a.m. I got a dry “are you hungry” and a sharp “I’m taking you to the airport”. I was scheduled to stay for a few more days...but I didn’t protest. I packed my bags and sat them by the door. When it was time to go he walked past my bags...not even attempting to carry them to the car. I grabbed by bags, loaded them into the truck and I slid into the passenger side. No turning back.

When my plane landed home in Atlanta I thought I would have a voicemail from him apologizing...telling me he made a mistake. Nothing. After a week and I didn’t hear from him I decided to send him a message. Back then we had ‘2-way pagers’ so I sent him a ‘page’ that read “Are you going to be mad at me forever? We can’t just stop speaking when we have a disagreement.” That was my attempt to reconcile. I was giving him a chance to apologize and try to get me back. Before I could dive too deep into my fantasy of how he would make it up to me he quickly responded “I’m not’s a wrap.” And like that, it was over. He was sending me a message with the song he played in the car during our long ride to the airport: I could have had it all...the money, the house, the keys to the Range, the WIFE STATUS as long as I stayed in my place (which sometimes meant dealing with disrespect and mistreatment). And from that moment on I was determined to get my own money, house, and as for the Range......I never liked it anyway!

Monday, December 20, 2010


I wanted to tell him how much I care about him...that I would miss him when he was gone. I wanted to tell him that I can feel the vibes he is sending my way and I’m digging it all...but my fear would not allow me...I'm way too cool for 'feelings'. Instead of expressing the way I felt and enjoying our last day together I was overcome with sadness...sadness because I didn’t want him to leave and sadness because I don’t know how to tell him how I feel about him without losing "control". “The one that remains in control wins...”right? “The person who shows the least emotion controls the relationship” right? That’s what I was told and it seems as though every time I don’t follow that formula I get hurt so I decided to stay in the ‘safe zone’ aka ‘the friend zone’....the area that is less threatening and can cause me the least pain...or does it??

This strategy may have caused me more harm than good. My nonchalant demeanor has kept me from a meaningful cautiousness, my reluctance to open up, to show men my ‘submissive’ side feels like I have been running into a brick wall over and over again. I act so ‘one of the guys’....but I fear I have lost, and will continue to lose potentially good men. This time I am determined not to let my fear get the best of “Previous Cats” by Musiq SoulChild plays in the back of my mind I realize I’ve hit my head against the wall so much I think it’s time for a break through...I will start by telling him that I miss him and take it from there...

Tuesday, December 14, 2010


Someone called ME a hoe...can you believe it?! ME. "Why?" you ask??? I'll tell you why...because I was "dealing" with someone under the age of 20. So I guess I am a 'hoe' because I've realized him and his '30's' generation aren't as youthful, have less baggage, are much more attentive and just so HAPPEN to be in their sexual prime (like me). I'd call myself a genius before I call myself a 'hoe' but hey...that's life...people will say what they will. Which brings me to another subject = COUGARS. Who in the hell invented that term? I don't know who said it first in that context but it has spread like wildfire and it's hilarious to me! A fucking riot! I was watching television the other night and I came across a commercial for "" -- its where 'Cougars' go to meet 'Cubs'...

From age 30-40, women are at peak of their seem to always be at their 'peak' but it is between 18-22 that they LEARN about how to please a woman. Society has recognized how these two groups gravitate towards one another so they added an official term to the 'behavior' and now are trying to capitalize off it with this website.

According to '' Cougars are: Women in their PRIME: independent, sexy and wildly successful. They enjoy men that are youthful, fit with the same zest for life. Cougars are classy, confident women that already possess many of the finer things in life — but now want the young, hot guy to go with it."

And get this...a "Cub" is the term for the younger men that entertain "Cougars", they are addressed as follows "To snare a true Cougar a man needs to be youthful, fit, unintimidated and of course sexually driven! These men can range from athletes to intellectuals, and from technologists to entrepreneurs and all points in between; they can come in all shapes and sizes, but one thing they have in common is the desire to possess a sexually charged older woman."

They chose the right KEYWORDS: "Possess; Sexually Charged; Older Woman"

What man doesn't want to possess anything considered to be "sexually charged"?!? Men spend their entire lives hunting for a 'charge' doesn't have to be a woman..but that sure helps! is FULL of women who created a profile to pull younger men, Demi Moore, Eva Longoria and Mariah Carey are ALL between 7 -15 years OLDER their than husbands. BUT I AM A HOE...Ummmm. Yea. OK.

But honestly, its not JUST the sex, and youthful appearance that makes younger men appealing to 'Cougars'. They are more attentive -- they work harder because they are essentially trying to entertain a woman that is ""out of their league"; They have less baggage -- they don't typically have a "baby mama", bad credit, and aren't carrying around bitterness that was left by other women; They are enthusiastic and optimistic, they feel like they have their whole lives ahead of them...they aren't beat down by working a job they hate and they don't have the 'beer belly' accessory most older men tote.

My 'cub' made me feel like I was queen of the world when I needed it most. When I was going through challenges in my life and I just wanted someone to ask how my day was. He sent me 'good morning' texts every morning and made 'good night' calls every night. He definitely made ALL of my peers look pathetic. So if that makes me a hoe...SO BE IT and if you want to give me a label then call me a THUNDERCAT and I'll yell 'HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'

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