Brand New Second Hand

This blog is going to be a stream-of consciousness vibe simply because I can't be bothered to plan the course of these thoughts which have been clouding my mind as of late. Plus time is against me. So where shall I begin? to tell a story of how great a love can be... see... my mind already gone on a trip. Anyhoo, where was I? stream of consciousness. right. So Monday night/ Tuesday morning as I drove home from the club under the watchful light of my moon, I thought of a blog I wanted to do. It touched on a lot of the emotions and concerns I had been experiencing over the past few days like sex, celibacy, health, intimacy et cetera but by the time I got home I was too tired to sit around the computer and knock out a blog. I just couldn't. and no I wasn't drunk either. I have actually been "sober" for approximately 3 weeks now and I am feeling quite proud of myself.

I'm not sure I mentioned it on here before but I got the results of my physical 3 weeks ago and ...needless to say... everything was not alright. Since it was all in Japanese I had to get it translated by my Japanese teacher and then a friend of mine but basically the bottom line was that my liver enzymes levels were too high and they recommended that I redo the blood test. Actually the Office Manager, after giving me the test results, asked me if I had drank (drunken?) any alcohol before I took the test. I don't recall doing so, but I suppose if I was drunk I wouldn't have remembered would I? I mean, I don't consider myself an alcoholic but this whole no-drinking-sick-liver-unhealthy-lifestyle has been quite a feat for me.

Which is what I suppose prompted the title as well as the need for me to do this blog. My lifestyle. It needs to change. I am no longer a carefree teenager. I am an adult (private chuckle) and I have responsibilities and obligations now. When I think back to how hard I used to party/ drink/ sex I am slightly ashamed. Yeh. I kinda sorta am. I mean there are quite a few memories that I'd like to erase, more than enough things that I wish I didn't do. But experience teaches wisdom or something like that and all those things that I did in my past have helped to make me into the person I am right now. But still I was pretty wild back then. It's only since coming to Japan and living a pretty mellow life in the country side that I realise just how wild I really was.

And not even just in the promiscuous sense. But in the unhealthy sense, in the not taking care of myself sense: spritually, mentally, emotionally and physically.

This whole sick liver situation has really been an eye opener I tell you. I've really been slacking where it comes to my livelihood. I mean our body is truly our temple. How could I have been so reckless and careless? Although compared to some of the mattresses I've been reading about in Jamaica I coulda enter a convent!!! wooooiiiii!!! But that is another blog for another day.

Anyhoo back to my point. On Monday I began my 8 week Liver Cleansing diet. Which basically means no alcohol, no sugars, no greasy food, no soda, no anything that would give my liver too much work. Plus I'm taking liver detoxifying supplements. I mean when you think about it. My liver has been working overtime for the past 24 years. It's never gotten a chance to properly rest. It's best if I do this now before I get afflicted with ailments like high-blood pressure, diabetes and worse... the big C... and no I don't mean Celibacy even though....speaking of celibacy... I'm at a crossroads. Do I have sex? or do I wait for something more meaningful than just the bang bang bang??? Since I've decided to take on this holistic approach to my well-being I think I've become immune (for want of a better word) to casual sex. I mean ofcourse it feels good in the moment. But what about the after? when you're cuddling someone but thinking about another? It just doesn't cut it for me any more. So I suppose as I seek to clean up my liver, I should possibly be cleaning up my heart and my morals/ standards as well.

Yesterday, I was accused of putting sex too high on my list of priorities and that kinda took me aback.... I mean what's more important than sex in a relationship anyways??? (and please don't give me that whole trust and loyalty diatribe...I've heard it all before). I suppose this line of thinking is why I am now caught in between a rock (hard cock) and a hard place (the shell encasing my heart).

To wit or to woo I really don't know but I think I'm gunna follow my PICs advice and just let it flow.

iNi

need a brand new start with a brand new second hand heart...

NadYa Dee

Man Cabinet

I need a man who can cook and clean and take care of the kids, a man who knows how to be a good father. A man who knows how to garden as well as how to maintain a household, how to fix machinery, build things and repair pipes. A man who also know his way around a car, who isn't afraid to get greasy and dirty when necessary. I need a man who is physically fit and mentally strong. A man who can carry me for hours without complaining, a man who can lift me over a puddle when it's raining. But he also needs to know when to let me walk on my own. A man who can read my moods, who knows when I need to be held and when I need to be left alone. I need a man who knows me, understands me and accepts me exactly as I am but also understands that there are still things about me I need to change and improve and he knows how to offer just enough encouragement to motivate me without pushing too hard and pissing me off. A man who can see the beauty within me even if I'm unable to see it myself. A man who can release all my tension with the touch of his hands. I want a man who reads my blog and my stories and is my biggest fan. A man who writes poetry himself and recites them to me while feeding me chocolate covered strawberries in bed. A man who knows how to use his head, to make me feel like the only woman in his world. A man who also knows how to use his tool to rule me, in the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, on the floor or up against the door. I need a man who knows how to pamper me, who knows that tough love won't necessarily work with me because sometimes I just need to feel protected. A man who is a leader and knows that as a strong woman I need a strong man beside me. I need a man willing to risk his life for me and his family, a man who won't hesitate to fight for me, but would never dare to raise his hand to strike me. I need a man with ambition, who never stops dreaming, and never stops trying to be a better man, for me. I need a man who can make me laugh til I cry when I don't even feel like smiling. A man who consistently surprises and entertains me. I need a man who has it all and is willing to give it all to me.

I know. I am a needy bitch. I am so needy that I've come to the realization that if I am to be truly happy I will need more than one man. Obviously. One man alone cannot satisfy me. I need different men to fulfil various needs and desires.

Today, as I was having a conversation with a sistren of mine, I came to the conclusion that what I really need is a MAN CABINET. It's perfect. And by cabinet of course I mean the piece of furniture in which I'd keep them all as well as the 'council' in which they'd be able to get together and brainstorm all the ways in which to keep Nadya happy.

Of course this is all wishful thinking. But what if? just what if I was able to keep all my men... without having to choose one???

iNi

would be happy beyond my wildest dreams...with my Cabinet of Men

NadYa Dee

The Penis Prayer

Today, I pray, for a penis of my own, to have and to hold, til death do we part.

I pray for a penis that will be mine for all time.

Today, I make an appeal to the god of phallus, 'send a penis to me'.

A penis that knows how to tease me and please me.

A penis who knows my needs and my desires.

A penis that knows just what to do to bring me to ecstasy.

And I promise that I'll never let it go. I'll never hurt it nor mistreat it, I'll protect it with my life. When it's feeling soft and weak, I'll make it hard and strong. I'll do it no wrong.

This is not penis envy, to be a man is not my dream.

This is greed.

For I am a selfish woman and I know that if I ever do find that one penis that satisfies me in every way conceivable, I'd want to keep it to myself. I'd want to lock it in a cage and hide the key in my most secret place.

I'd never part with it, not for love nor money.

You see, I know the value of a good penis and I know the lengths women will go through to procure one. So while I pray for this penis, a penis made just for me, I also pray that no bitch will ever try to contest. Cause I WILL cut her!

So as I embark on another unpeenified day I pray that the god who rules over this magnificent specimen will grant me this one wish.

A big, thick, beautiful peen

(with my full name [in all CAPS, bold and double spaced] tattooed on the shaft)

just for me

NadYa Dee

SELAH.

More Than Enuf

A little over a month ago I went to Tokyo to help a friend out with an event she was doing called 'More Than Enuf' [See flyer above]. (Shouts to Monique and M & U Promotions!!!) Somehow due to the misunderstandings that usually come with the preparation for such events, I ended up participating in the show as Lady in Yellow (See pics below) instead of MC-ing.

'More Than Enuf', which was basically a remake of the stageplay, 'For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When The Rainbow is Enuf' by Ntozake Shange featured poems from the original play as well as original pieces from select performers.

The overall experience was uplifting. It was great to see strong, black women coming together to express themselves through poetry and music and I am blessed and grateful to have been a part of it.

Lady in Yellow (& pink) More Than EnuF

With that being said, the reason I am doing this post is because a friend of mine, affectionately called Pernalise, played a pivotal role in the play as Lady in Red and performed some of the most poignant poetry I have heard/ read in a while. Words that shook me to the core, conveying feelings that I myself have always wanted to say but have never been able to. So after much waiting she finally sent me the poems and gave me permission to post them on my blog.

Trust me the poem them shot!!!

Here they are:

Still

Rationalise as I may,

The part of me that’s telling me that when it comes to you I deserve better

Is the part of me that’s not making me feel any better.

And what hurts most and has me feeling almost bitter,

Is that I can’t even cause any break-up drama!

I can’t even end it, ‘cause I guess we were never really together to begin with.

So what’s a girl to do with all of these feelings I still have left for you?

I still wake up in the middle of the night wanting to hate you,

But wishing that you were here so I could wrap my legs around you and curl into you.

Yet, knowing that in the same breath,

I’d probably just wrap my fingers around your neck and try to choke out of you

whatever secrets you hold about how you keep me coming back for more

when all you’re giving me is nothing.

Nothing less nothing more than nothing.

You treat me like I’m nothing more than a friend worth seeing every now and again,

and then another two weeks, another two months of nothing.

And you don’t even have to say a thing!

I know what this is.

Just like I know that I deserve better than this.

But the part of me that’s telling me that I deserve better than what you’re giving,

The part of me that’s fierce and proud, that’s sensible and rational-thinking,

The part of me that keeps asking me, “What did you ever see in him?”

The part of me that keeps telling me, “You know, your family never would have liked him.”

The part of me that keeps reminding me that with you, the sex was just really boring!

The part of me that keeps saying, “Don’t worry, one day you’ll find better than him.”

The part of me that keeps doing this everlasting thinking and self-critiquing,

This nonstop talking and analysing and rationalising and this on-and-on-and-on-ing

Is the part of me that I want to tell to shut the fuck up!

Because the part of me that’s still hurting and torn up

Is still not ready to give you up.

Still.

Pernais Morrison ©

AND

Woman Enuf

I’m looking for the kind of guy I’d find if I weren’t looking,

The kind that would stretch my sanity thin, keeping me suspended in mid-air, somewhere between reality and the imaginary.

The kind that would be my everything,

My ecstasy, my speed, my morphine, my heroine,

And my rehab when I finally realise I’m addicted to him.

The kind that would make me fall in love with him, grow to hate him, then grow to love him more than I did before I knew that I loved him, all in the same day that I meet him.

The kind that would make me smile in my sleep, and laugh till I weep

But, keep me crying my eyes out because he’s hurting me so bad, yet loving me so good, that I hate loving him more than I love hating him.

The kind that would have me wanting to meet his parents and have his babies,

Yet wanting to give him back his ring before he even proposes.

And still, I’d keep my naked fingers crossed, waiting for the day that he does.

I’m looking for the kind of guy I’d find if I weren’t looking,

The kind that would be man enuf to tell me that I won’t find him

Because he’s either married, determined to play the field till the day he dies, or just too damn busy looking for his own guy!

Or maybe the problem is that I’m actually looking for this guy.

So, if you see him, tell him I’m just looking to break up with him before I even meet him,

So that we could skip the whole dating thing and just get to know each other,

Grow to love the little things we hate about each other,

Be happy together, mad at each other, or madly in love with one another,

For a few days, a few months, a few years, a lifetime, or just seconds at a time.

But with all the time that I spend searching for someone else to make me happy,

waiting for someone to come along and rescue me from me,

and all the while,

forgetting to nurture the beautiful, sensitive creature that is the queen inside me,

even if God does decide to send me this king I’ve been seeking

if I can’t love me enuf for me,

if I’m not enuf for me,

will I ever be enuf for him?

Pernais Morrison ©

You can find more of her poems here: pernaisism.blogspot.com

Lady in Yellow and Lady in Red, More Than EnuF, Tokyo 2009

I want to dedicate these poems to all my girl friends out there who have gone through these same feelings before. To the girls who I've sit with having cocktails at 12 (Big up to my PIC Nats) or in Negril, drunk, frass and chatting wi business so loud dat Buju coulda hear everyting weh wi did a seh (lol). But mostly to the girls who've been hurt by men and are still searching for "the one".

These poems are for you.

iNi

am more than enuF

NadYa Dee

Our Heroes

When I think hero, I think of the people before me who fought for the freedoms and privileges that I often take for granted today. When I think hero, I think of people who, despite the odds, at the risk of death and persecution, fought for the rights of their fellow man and woman. When I think hero, I think of leaders past who stood up for the rights of all mankind.

So today, Monday 19th October, (for the first time on this blog) I have decided to honour our National Heroes: Marcus Mosiah Garvey, Samuel Sharpe, Sir Alexander Bustamante, Norman Washington Manley, Paul Bogle, George William Gordon and last but certainly not least, Nanny of the Maroons a woman who repelled bullet with the muscles of her buttocks and serves as inspiration to all Jamaican women that we are powerful beyond our expectations.

On this day I implore you all my fellow Jamaicans to reflect upon the sacrifices made by these great people and stand proud in the fact that without them, we would be in worse problems than we are today.

I often think to myself, in this day and age it seems as if the fire and determination that drove our heroes have burnt out of us. As if the young men and women of today are more concerned with money, the dancehall or bunning weed than with effecting changes which will benefit our country as a whole.

I think of our ancestors and wonder if they are proud of what they see, a country that now seems consumed with greed. The few good being outweighed and outshadowed by the plethora of bad and/or indifferent.

It seems as if we as the future of Jamaica have become complacent with our "emancipation" and "independence", as if the struggles of our forefathers (and mothers) meant nothing; as if slavery was nothing but a dream.

There are many who argue that Bob Marley should be made a National Hero. That it is his face that should be on the new $5000 bill. I don't like to get involved in debates of that nature because as far as I am concerned, Bob Marley, as great a musician as he was, didn't risk his life, and didn't die for the liberty and freedom of the Jamaican people. So how then can one compare him to those who did and even more so, want to place him in the same class as them?

Sure, he sang of love, peace and emancipation but what did he DO? Did he effect any changes within Jamaican society that we can look back on and say, "Wow, Bob Marley was a patriot and he died in defence of our rights"? (And yes I am well aware of the One Love Peace Concert where he joined the hands of Manley and Seaga. I am also aware of his exodus following said concert).

I know there are many who will not agree with my opinion and that is your right. But today, whether or not he is a hero is of little if no consequence. What is important today is that we honour the memory of those before us who stood up (and died) for their beliefs.

I hope that one day I can have even an ounce of the conviction that propelled these great people. As a "Jamaican ambassador" in Japan I spend day after day teaching, clarifying and edifying aspects of Jamaica and our culture to anyone who asks. As I'm sure the other ALTs in Japan do as well. It is with this consistent patriotism that chose to I write this blog today.

So often we forget the lessons learnt in Prep and Primary Schools about our 7 National Heroes (some children nowadays probably don't even know that we have 7). I am sure the children in Jamaica can quote a Vybz Kartel lyric off the top of their head but no one remembers poor Marcus Garvey.

Let me not get started on the education system in Jamaica right now because this post is already too long. But I will leave you with this. Those of you who have children (of your own or young siblings) what will you teach them, in the future, about Jamaica? Will you remember to speak of the sacrifices of our ancestors? Will you teach them to walk in pride? to be proud of their roots and their heritage???

Jamaicans (yard and abroad) need to start sowing the seeds of patriotism within the minds of our youth. When I look at certain aspects of Japanese society I can see why crime is so low here and so high in Jamaica. When will we start garnering pride in our nation and stop perpetrating indignation and indecency?

I am not professing to have any answers, Jamaica's problems are an enigma of catastrophic proportions, but there's one thing I know. For as long as I live on this earth, I will never forget Our Heroes.

iNi

proud to be Jamaican

NadYaDee

俳人外人：Haijin Gaijin

Since coming to Japan 2 years ago I am proud to say that my Japanese ability has increased to the level where I am capable of holding conversations in basic Japanese as well as expressing my thoughts, ask questions, answer basic questions. i.e. overall function. (Plus if all else fails I know how to say 'I don't understand what the fuck you're talking about') Which is a lot more than I can say for when I just came. Unfortunately it seems as if my English has been suffering as a result of this increase in Japanese grammar and vocabulary. My conversations are now peppered with occasional English and Japanese and a whole lot of Japanese 'word sounds' For eg. eeto, nandake, nandarou, nandeshou, doushiyou, sounanda... to name a few.

In any case, this summer instead of going to Fukuoka for an intensive Japanese course, like I did last year, I decided to stay in good ole Kagoshima in an effort to save some money. (I didn't actually end up saving that much money in the long run since I bought Starbucks every morning and went shopping every evening after class btw Summer Sales ROCK!) So, I found Yuurinkan, a Japanese school in the shi (city) where I could do a 3 week long intensive course for just 4 man. [40,000 yen] (trust me that's cheap).

Initially I thought it would be a class of around 5-6 people of (hopefully) the same Japanese level but apparently most foreigners in Kago opted for the "get the fuck out of here for Summer" option so it ended up being me and this Bolivian nun for the first week then this annoying French dude (have you ever heard a french person say 大丈夫？「daijoubu?」 *runs away screaming*) for the last 2 weeks. Which is pretty good value for money considering my "class" basically turned into Japanese tutoring. There, I did 「書道」Shodou (Japanese calligraphy) and wrote「俳句」 Haiku for the first time.

With that being said let me get to the title of this blog. Roughly translated 'Haijin Gaijin' means Foreigner who writes Haiku. What? you don't know what haiku is? OMG. lol. Well a Haiku is "a Japanese lyric verse form having three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables, traditionally invoking an aspect of nature or the seasons."

Lucky for me, the owner of the school loved Haiku. he helped me to understand the structure and the meaning behind it. By the end of the course I had written 6 haiku about my own experiences since coming to Japan, which he then decided to publish in his monthly haiku book. So yes! I am a bonafide Japanese Poet! Published and all these great things. [See book cover at the top]

To the left you'll see a photo from the actual page that my haiku were on but it's a bit hard to read so I've taken the liberty of typing out all six haiku as well as the translations below:

かき氷(ごおり)イチゴ(いちご)の味(あじ)と赤(あか)い口(くち)

Shaved Ice, taste of strawberry, red mouth

花火(はなび)見て(みて)金魚(きんぎょ)をもらう(う)祭(まつり)の日(ひ)

Watching Fireworks, Getting Goldfish, Festival Day

西瓜(すいか)割り(わ)子供(こども)の遊び(あそび)もったいない

Breaking Watermelons, Child's Play, How wasteful

虫(むし)の声(こえ)夜(よる)に響いて(ひびいて)寝られない(ねられない)

The sound of insects Echoing through the night I can't sleep

梨(なし)の汁(しる)口(くち)にながれて甘い(あまい)かな

Pear juice, dripping from my mouth, Isn't it sweet!

新米(しんまい)を食べられないで(たべられないで)待って(まって)いる

New Rice, Can't eat yet, So I wait.

Aren't you proud of me??? I sure am proud of myself!

iNi

bilingual poet

NadYaDee

Oyin Handmade

A few months ago I heard about Oyin Handmade products from a few friends of mine over here in Japan. They gave the products rave reviews: they were all natural, smelled good, healthy and environmentally friendly. Plus (and here's the clincher) they shipped to JAPAN!

So I figured "What the Hey?" They used cocoa butter and honey, two ingredients that I also use in my daily moisturising regime so I figured it wouldn't be too much of a change for me. Not to mention they also use Shea Butter amongst other all natural ingredients.

So on September 10th (my mumzy's bday) I visited the website [www.oyinhandmade.com] perused their products for a while and decided on: 1 Honeysticks delicious lipbalm (which I have yet to try), 1 After Bath Coco Mango blended body oil, 1 Funk Butter (Coco Mango) natural Cream Deoderant, 1 Chocolate Body Butter 'Candy' Bar and a 4 piece Hair Care Sampler.

This is the 4 piece Hair Care Sampler.

I had already heard prior to ordering that it would take around 2 weeks for them to MAKE the products not to mention the time it would take for it to be shipped all the way over here, so I placed my order and basically forgot about it until I received an e-mail from Oyin informing me that my package was shipped via USPS International Priority Mail on Tuesday 29th September.

Then on early Sunday morning (11th October) Mr. Postman came with my box from Oyin! Ureshikatta!!! (I was so happy). Over all it took one month to order, prepare and ship my products. Which was just about how long I was expecting it to take. So yattaaa!

The first thing I tried (after showering) was the Chocolate Body Butter Bar (seen on the right) on the areas that need chocolate loving the most and it smelled divine! I know a lot of people have problems with the smell of cocoa butter and while the Body Butter still has the undertone of cocoa butter it really does smell like a candy bar and it leaves you smelling like one too. Which comes in might handy for times when you want to be ...uhm...devoured ;o)

I applied the Coco Mango After Bath Body Oil (Seen on the right) and while I don't entirely like the feel of oil in my hands I love how it makes my skin feel soft and I absolutely love smelling like coconut and mango. :o)

That's all I've actually tried for now (excepting the whipped pudding on my face in the mornings to keep it from drying out in the day...trust me it works!) But I suppose even without testing all the products you could call me a SATISFIED customer.

Thanks Oyin.

iNi

smells yummy

NadYaDee

One Night Stand: The Matey Chronicles continue...

Things of this nature can't be planned; they just happen. One minute you're having drinks at a random bar by yourself and the next you're stumbling back to your hotel room with a strange man in tow.

Maybe it was the three blowjobs* or the subsequent double shot of Patron but somehow she ended up in an elevator heading to the "Naughty Virgin", a nightclub on the top floor of the highest building in the cities 'Red Light District'. She felt the alcohol rush through the channels in her brain as the elevator soared pass the 7th floor. Intoxication.

Ding.

They all tumbled through the door onto the plush carpet of a small circular lobby. The cashier sat in a booth straight ahead, to their left (or was it their right) there stood a big burly man with long blond hair guarding a ceiling high wooden door. On the door was a cool logo depicting a 'virgin' in a lewd sexual position. She considered taking a picture of it but was too drunk to fumble through her bag and locate her camera, much less aim and press a button simultaneously. But she promised herself that before leaving she'd definitely take the photo.

In that moment of picture-taking contemplation the owner of the bar she was previously patronising, had approached the bouncer and whispered something in his ear. Soon after she saw him open the door and felt the beat of the music take hold of her body and in one fluid motion she felt herself being swept into the crowded club behind the bar owner along with two bartenders and another patron she made friends with sometime after the second blowjob.

As the door locked them into the hedonistic abyss of sweating bodies gyrating on a packed dance floor, strobe lights streaking across her face, occasionally highlighting her protruding bosoms she shouted "Pordeeeeeeee".

And party she did. After two more complimentary shots at the bar, she and her new crew made their way onto the dance floor; slinking through the crowd like an erotic snake in search of it's next prey. The music reverberated through her body, causing an exhilaration comparable to the thrill of orgasm. There they were, bumping and grinding with each other, total strangers united in the communion of tequila and deep bass. The gyrating mass of bodies eventually carried her to the bottom of a staircase. A staircase which led to a landing about 6 feet off the floor and overlooking the entire dance floor. Suddenly she felt someone grab her hand leading her up those same stairs. She neither recognised the face nor the voice but the seductive animal within her wanted to display it's prowess. So she made her way, unsteadily, up the stairs.

Up there, the air was more dilute of cigarette smoke and the musk of pheromones, sweat and cologne. She was in her element. As the Ying-Yang Twins' 'Get Low' played she felt her hips rocking to and fro, then she began shaking it like a salt shaker. She dropped it like it was hot, shook that ass real fast then stopped, then she worked her way to the top. She flashed her finger and spun her head. All eyes were on her. Now she understood what an 'exotic dancer' felt like, and she LOVED it!

By now everyone on the dance floor was cheering her on. Then while T-Pain's 'Apple-Bottom Jeans' started she turned around and gave her big booty a slap. The whole crowd went wild! She was a star! She continued to bump and grind giving the crowd exactly what they wanted. She hit the floor and the next thing you know she got low, bounced her booty then slowly made her way back up, staring at her ass the entire time. It was not until she glanced back into the crowd that she saw him. He was leaning against the bar, glass in hand, drinking her in with his eyes.

Sweat dripped through her cleavage, down her stomach and into her thong, she was hot. Needing a break, she left the rest of her new friends on the landing and made her way down the stairs. As she dodged her way through the crowd she could feel strangers grinding on her while random men offered her drinks and random women looked at her in awe and envy.

Exhausted, she finally made it to the bar and settled herself onto a bar stool about 2 feet away from her admirer. He sidled up to her, his eyes fixated, until she could almost taste his breath on her lips; he was drinking Hennessey.

He offered to buy her a drink and they engaged in small conversation, she may or may not have given him her right name. But that was okay because she didn't remember his. None of these formality even mattered as before she was even halfway through her drink his tongue was half-way down her throat and his hands were groping her robust bosoms. They continued in this passionate embrace for a minute or an hour (she couldn't remember) until her favourite song began to play. She quickly chugged the rest of her drink, grabbed his hand and led him out onto the dance floor.

He held her as if he'd never let her go, whispering sweet nothings in her ear while gently grazing her neck with his lips. She felt a tingle down her spine as he carefully caressed the curve right above her buttocks. They swayed and gyrated to the music until it seemed as if everyone and everything dissipated. Until there they were, alone, floating on a steamy cloud of suppressed passion on the verge of eruption.

Then he whispered, "You wanna get out of here?"

And before he could finish his statement, they were in the elevator zooming to the ground floor. Her libido was in hyper-drive by now and all she could think of was finding the quickest place let her beast run free.

Gathering her bearings, she suddenly realised why and how she ended up at this random bar in the first place. It was the closest bar to her hotel. Or so the guidebook claimed. And if memory served her correctly her hotel was merely one block away. It was called the 'Summer's Inn' and was a fairly good deal for a traveller on a budget. So they set off, stumbling through the barren street, stopping at random intervals to grope each other.

By the time she finally managed to get the electronic card key into door correctly (the metallic strip facing right), he was already shirtless, with the body of an Adonis, and his hands were already up her dress tugging at her thong. He threw her onto the bed, positioned her on all fours, slipped on a Trojan and proceeded to enter her from behind. She was already soaking wet from her stripper performance in the club so the entry was smooth.

Taking long slow strokes at first he gradually began pummelling her from behind. With every drill she felt as if her world was shifting, spinning out of control. She was on the verge of orgasm when he suddenly pulled out of her, spun her around and kissed her passionately, working his lips down to her nipples, flicking his tongue slowly across them then sucking them as if in need of nutrition; massaging them tenderly as if kneading bread.

She moaned and purred, writhing in his strong embrace. Then he plunged into her again. Diving deeper and deeper into her core until she could have sworn she felt him in her soul. She threw her head back and braced for the rush of orgasm that was now overcoming her entire being. As she came her legs trembled and her walls contracted on his manlihood she felt him intensify then release. They both collapsed onto the bed, which had now shifted away from the wall, each taking deep breaths as their chests rose and fell in unison.

She was awoken by the sound of running water and glimpsed through the corner of her eye, a pair of jeans crumpled at the foot of the bed. She reached for it and in the process of transferring it to the chair heard a tiny cling as if a coin or something metallic had fallen out of one of his pockets. She stuck her head under the bed only to see a circular object resting in the far corner. Quickly she recovered the item, hoping to return it to it's rightful position without being detected.

She sat up on the bed and sighed deeply holding the 24 karat white gold ring in her hand. In her still wobbly hungover state she puzzled why a man would have a ring in his pocket?

Then it finally dawned on her. She had done it again. In her drunken state. Another Married Man. In that moment she contemplated keeping the ring as a memento (or punishment) but decided that it was best if he never knew that she knew. It was not as if they'd ever see each other again. So she placed the ring back into his pocket, replaced the crumpled jeans at the foot of the bed and pretended to go back to sleep.

She was still awake when he got out of the bathroom, put on his clothes and checked his cell phone, and she felt his soft lips on her forehead as he leaned over to kiss her goodbye. Then the door opened and closed behind him. He was gone. And she went back to sleep. After all it was just a One Night Stand.

*a blowjob is a shot which consists of Kahlua, Bailey's and Whipped Cream. Oh and your supposed to drink it using your mouth only. (you figure it out)

iNi

got inspired ;o)

Your Mate is back!

NadYa Dee

They want to bomb my hooooomb!!!

Asccording to twitter, the idiots at NASA are planning to bomb the moon with some device called the LCROSS in search of water ice. Like seriously?? I think some one has been listening to too much Celine Dion. For real. [BTW I heart that song!!! See video below]

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy would anyone think that bombing the moon was a good idea? Do they not know about the phases and cycles of the moon? Why would they want to fuck with that???

Nothing good can come of this. There's only one thing left to do...

Let us Pray:

Dear Holy Creator,

Armageddon is upon us. Fuckery has commenced! You know what I'm talking about. But if this is your will.

I just have one favour to ask before life as we know it ceases to exist.

Pleaaaase pretty pleeeaase, can I have sex before I die?

yoroshiku onegaishimasu

iNi

NadYa Dee

Chakras: Nadya's Introduction

This is the first part of an on-going series on Chakras that I just decided to do today because an overwhelming feeling of hate took hold of me and I had to do an emergency chakra cleanse. It was during the cleanse that I decided to do this post.

I've been cleansing my chakras on and off for about 2 months now with the aid of Doreen Virtue's Chakra Cleansing Book and CD and while her voice is pretty creepy it has helped me get in touch with my inner self (minds out of the gutter!)

I know what you're thinking. What the hell is a chakra (no it is not one of Elephant man's dances) and why would I spend good money on a book and CD when the internet is swimming with free information??

Believe me when I tell you that I'm a born sceptic but the thing is, I've been cultivating an interest in chakras for a good while now. I've done the internet research, I read the oppositions as well as the praise and one day I just decided that the only way to truly check if it works is to try it out. I bought the CD and book because I wanted to have the information handy whenever and wherever I needed it.

That being said, what I'm going to do here is kind of walk you through the steps that I took to get me to this point.

First off, What the hell is a chakra?

Chakra is a Sanskrit word which means circle of energy, wheel of energy, spinning vortex of energy or energetic centre. [See symbol above]

Chakras are spinning wheels of electric energy of different colors that perform many functions connecting our energy fields, bodies and the broader Cosmic Energy Field. Chakras are directly connected to and govern the endocrine system that in turn regulates the aging process.

The chakras are linking mechanisms between the auric field and the meridian system within the physical body and different levels of the auric fields and cosmic forces. They affect the flow of energy into the physical body. They absorb primary energy from the atmosphere (called chi, prana, orgone) and send it along energy channels. Chakras are energy transformers.

Our bodies contain seven major chakras or energy centers and 122 minor chakras. The major chakras are located at the base of the spine (Root Chakra), at the navel (Sacral Chakra), in the solar plexus (Solar Plexus Chakra), within your heart (Heart Chakra), within the throat (Throat Chakra), at the center of your forehead (Brow or Third Eye Chakra), and at the top of your head (Crown Chakra). These chakras are linked together.

[This definition was taken from www.mkprojects.com]

Our Seven Chakras

The video below gives a concise explanation of the colours and the main functions of our chakras.

After understanding what chakras were all about I then decided to do a Chakra Test to see if my chakras needed balancing. [Click Here to do your own Chakra Test]. Of course, as suspected my sacral and throat chakras were large and my root and heart chakras were shrunken. (keep all comments to yourself :oP). That's when I decided on some DIY Chakra meditation @ home.

Stay tuned for my next posts where I give detailed information on each chakra, some DIY chakra balancing meditation as well as the progress of my chakra cleansing.

I hope this information was as useful to you as it is to me.

iNi

cleaning up my heart in order to attain enlightenment.

SELAH

NadYa Dee