Really let out a Primal Scream?

I am not talking about screaming out during sex, cause you should never let out a Primal Scream during sex cause then he will lose his erection!  And not only shame on him, but shame on you too!  I am talking about a primal scream so loud, that it could only come from getting back to the basics. A scream that could be heard across rooftops and as far away as the heavens, so much so that God would turn to Archangel Michael say, “Did I order a thunder storm?”

“No, dear. It’s just Lucresia.”

Possums, it is a scream that could only come from one thing-food poisoning!

I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to take advantage of half-price appetizers at Montana’s, instead of ordering an entrée.…well mine.

But, of course!

As I sit here in my zebra African-print bathroom, usually I look at my basket of vintage magazines filled of models smiling back at me and I think of something philosophical, but Possums, I can’t concentrate! I am in too much pain!  I look at them models and I think to myself-“What in the hell do they have to smile about? Surely, they must be hungry! Hungry and yet smiling! Smiling, yet hungry! I know that if I was hungry you’d have to pay me a lot to smile! Maybe that’s where them models got us beat!

I can’t believe the amount of times I have ended up in the bathroom today alone. And to think of all the money I wasted on enemas when all I had to do was wolf down a “questionable” dinner.

Speaking of enemas, Possums, do you know that there are people who get off on going to the bathroom multiple times?  They are called Klismaphiliacs.

Klismaphilia is the term for those who get sexually aroused and pleasured, by having an enema administered, either by someone, or themselves. In the male, the anterior wall of the rectum is next to the prostate and seminal vesicles. Filling and dilating the rectum with enema solution will cause direct pressure on these structures, as well as causing stimulation of the rectal stretch receptors, hence orgasm.

Now, wasn’t that a mouthful?

But, of course!

Klismaphiliacs actually use specialty enema nozzles that are made from aluminum.

Aluminum!

Aluminum!

No aluminum one for me, Possums.

I will use plastic.

It is a recession.

I remember one time I had to go out and buy one for a good friend of mine. She had got the constipation and needed relieving pronto. But, I didn’t administer her or anything. Nothing like that! The closest I got to administering her was when I knocked, and passed the item through the door , I saw a piece of her bare back!

Klismaphiliacs like to “introduce” different types of liquids into the colon through the anus. Some liquids used include urine, as well as alcohol!

I wonder if most chose Kahlua?  Being brown and all.

Possums, care should be taken when using any liquid other than water, as they can carry infectious bacteria. Anyways, introducing alcohol into the body through an enema can be dangerous, cause it can be absorbed directly into the tissue and blood stream, and can lead a dangerous overdose. So, don’t be a dum-dum.

Since excessive usage of enemas can deplete the body of important nutrients, some enthusiasts of enemas suggest replenishing the body by eating live yogurt.

I don’t even have to tell you that fetishes such as spanking, anal play and diapers are often associated to Klismaphilia. Which I am not surprise!

It is a slippery slope!

Did you that John Harvey Kellogg (yes, the man who invented Corn Flakes with his brother) is nowadays regarded as a textbook case of Klismaphilia?

Possums, let’s just say that I will never view Corn Flakes the same again!

Did you know that this man used to disguise his sexual habits by giving and receiving enemas and inflicting them on other people? The Jigga would go and lock up boys and tape their hands to their crotch, even mutilate them! He believed that a plain and healthy diet, with only two meals a day, among other things, would reduce sexual feelings!

Mr. Flakes would write books and preach against sex and masturbation, saying that it was unnatural and unhealthy.

I couldn’t see his books reaching any bestsellers list!

Bonfire, anyone?

The fool also went as far as saying that masturbation caused cancer of the womb, urinary diseases, impotence, epilepsy, and insanity.

I should run and tell my brother and my cousins!  Maybe then I’ll see them more!

Now I know that your Momma has probably told you that all masturbating is good, cause she probably caught you and not only did not want you to feel bad about yourself, but did not want to question her motherhood. But, if you find yourself addicted to having enemas up your bottom it is okay. You can get help via Hypnosis.

If that don’t work then there is psychoanalysis.

And if that don’t work then there is cognitive therapy.

And if that don’t work then there is drug therapy.

And if that don’t work then there is behavior therapy.

And if that don’t work then all I can say is leave it in the hands of God, or else someone will!

If you are afraid of administering an enema yourself, did you know that you can pay someone to do it to you? A lot of prostitutes are offering it up as a service.

Diapering and baby powder are extra.

But, of course!

And that is the eyes of Miss Donyale Luna.

UPDATE: Possums, there is a new fabu website by Don Strachan dedicated to the late Miss Luna. The goal of his site is to bring people who knew Donyale out of the woodwork and help fill in the blanks in the story of her life.

Check it out.

http://donyaleluna.wordpress.com/

Possums, I found my dad crying with his head in his hands.

Today is my mother’s birthday.

“It’s your mother,” said my dad turning to me with tears in his eyes.

The only time I saw my dad cry was when my he lost his father, mother and his two brothers.

He still has one left.

I don’t think he will cry for this one though.

They hate each other.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?” I asked him.

“Yes. She is fine,” he replied.

“Aww…you are crying because it is her birthday?” I asked him as I balanced myself beside him on the back porch.

“No,” he answered.

“Aww…you are crying because it is her birthday and you are thinking about all the years you spent together?” I asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Aww…you are crying because it is her birthday and you don’t know what to get her?” I asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Aww…you are crying because it is her birthday and you love her?” I asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Then what is it Dad? Why are you crying?” I asked.

“Cause she made me put back the duck!” he answered as he started to cry all over again.

“What duck?” I asked him.

“The duck that I found when I went fishing!”he cried.

Possums, sometimes in life God gives you those keen moments in your journey where all you can say to yourself is “what de ass????”

“First she made me give up my dog…” he started.

“Which you found in a box when you went fishing!” I finished.

“Then the turtles…” he started.

“Which you foundoff a river bank when you went fishing!”

“Then the swan…” he started.

“Which you found on the side of the road when you went fishing!”

“And now the duck! She never let’s me do anything fun! She doesn’t like me going fishing!” he complained.

“Maybe that is why she don’t like you to go fishing! You keep bringing things home!”

Possums, it is my mother’s birthday today, the duck is back at the pond and my father is a broken man.

So, Mom-Happy Birthday, I love you!

Dad-You will never ever get to do what you want! That is what marriage is all about!

And so long Howard the duck!

And with the flick of his hands, Natalie Portman shows Clive Owens her puny.

Is it me, but doesn’t Clive Owens seem kind of dirty in this scene? Usually, I love dirty, but he seems almost grimy! I guess it goes with the ambiance. Leather chairs and vinyl walls make me sweat too!

I remember my first foray into a strip club.

Actually, it was just before my second and third foray into such a club.

You wouldn’t even call it my first time. The only reason why I had to go into the strip club was to grab my cousin and my brother. The Jiggas were supposed to meet me outside of the bowling alley. But, instead when I drove up they were nowhere to be found. Then I realized that there was a strip club beside it.

It is a funny thing about strip clubs. They are like casinos. You don’t know what time it is once you walk into the place. Anyhoo, I am not going to lie Possums, I felt real excited! I was going into the den of iniquity. And, I was going to see me some naked people!

However, den of iniquity my ass crack! Everything and everyone looked tired! From the waitresses, the customers, the manager, the man behind the bar and even the girl at the box office, looked tired! Which reminds me of the time when my brother dated a stripper. Jigga always looked tired too!

I swear even the dancers’ ugly bits looked…well, ugly! That’s why I prefer not to strip as a vocation, but in the privacy of my own home. Afterward, I can go straight to my bed! Another reason is- Possums DEM GIRLS DO NOT CLEAN UP THAT POLE BETWEEN ACTS!

Oh, hell nah!

Not for nothing, but I am a very clean person! I have been known to stop Naked Tuesdays for about an hour to scrub down my stove!

I have been known to rush Sexy Bath Time if I see scum between my tiles!

And Possums, I have been known to spread the bed because it looked real messy after having sex.

While, he was still in it!

It was dark and I just threw my giraffe-print comforter on him and my bed.

That’s the last time I date a skinny boy!

But, I digress.

I would not be a good stripper! I would definitely have to put some form of “cleansing” routine in my act. I would bend over and shake my bootay, and pull out my Clorox spray. I would pull at my garters for the customers as I sprayed it all over the pole. And as I show my tacos, I would whip out some antibacterial wipes and clean the pole up and down at the same time, pull out my duster, dust up any leftover bits, and fall into a split, flipping my hair just so.

Cause Possums, I AM that talented!

Believe it or not Possums, I CAN stretch my legs nay wide. How nay is nay? Well, depending what I am taking before I do it!

What You Need:

• A tacky pink wig-Which shouldn’t be too hard to find. All you have to do is go to the hair store and go straight to the counter and ask for one. They have plenty! I should know.

• For him-a simple vest, dress shirt and pants.
• Play money
• Sexy see-through stilettos!

• You can wear a flipper style of lingerie
  

VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: Don’t use a girdle!

Try pulling aside a girdle to show a man your puny, when he asks you to! And then have that tight panty snap right back like it ain’t nobodies business! And then not only are you wincing in pain, but then you realize that it didn’t snap back entirely! It got caught between your “servings”. So then you are there, legs wide open trying to dig and dig and dig and dig and then when you finally get it out and then you think to yourself, “Why did I have to embrace the freedom of growing a bush? I should have just waxed the thing off when I had the chance!” And while you rub your coco for its dear life, only to find that when you look up, Jigga is staring at you the whole time!

Enjoying himself!

Jigga actually thought that this was part of your “act”.

Not that this has happened to me.

It is just a for instance!

What To Do:

You can play the name game, like what they do at the police stations all over the globe-“What’s your name?”

“I don’t know? What do you want it to be?”

What I really think is that this movie is a study of intimacy. Larry wants it, but Alice knows the drill. That’s why I think that this is a fantastic role-play for flirting! Always, one up the other person. It is all in the game.

“You have the face of an angel” says Larry.

“Thank you” says Alice.

“What does your c*nt taste like?” says Larry.

“Heaven” says Alice.

Possums, mine too!

And make sure to always say “thank-you” at the end of every compliment.

To some it may seem annoying, but no one has manners anymore!

Lingerie, stripping, play money aside- it shows good breeding!

Possums, I don’t get it.

I tried.

I really did.

But, I just don’t get it.

The good folks at Glamour Magazine spoke to Miss Renn and they noted that, “She’s is NOT as skinny as she looks in those pictures.”

As for Miss Crystal, she says:

I was shocked. When I saw the pictures, I think I was silent for a good five minutes, staring with my mouth open. I don’t know what was done to those photos or who did it, but they look retouched to me. And listen, everybody retouches, but don’t make me into something I’m not…Having had an eating disorder, I know what that very thin body looks like on me, and it’s not something I find attractive. It’s not something I aspire to.

Miss Renn agreed that she looks closer to the behind-the-scenes-photo.

When photographer Nicholas Routzen was asked to comment, he said, “[The photos were] taken from a higher angle with a wider lens…I shaped her…I did nothing that I wouldn’t do to anyone. I’m paid to make women look beautiful.”

Mmmn obie-kabie!

photos via glamour magazine

Well, never again!

I was asked to watch over my niece Danique while my sister took Ava and Dante out for some gourmet ice cream.

Possums, can I just say that Danique is tres adorable!

Like me!

But, unlike me, Danique likes surprises and if you know me Possums, I hate surprises!

I remember exactly where I was when my sister told me that her daughter liked to take off her diaper when she was about to do the do. I was at my own house!

Thank Christ!

At the time we had a good laugh, as I tried to convince my sister that it was cute.

Well, as I said before I had to baby-sit. I just focused my eyesight for what seemed like a second to watch the ending of a very inspiring television show, when I turned to look at Danique.

The girl had taken off her diaper and was standing over it!

“NO!” I screamed trying to scare her out of not doing anything. “You are not suppose to do that!”

Danique looked at me frightened. I picked her up so quickly, that I didn’t realize that she was still holding the diaper in her hand. Possums, she already made a deposit in the bank!

Dung was everywhere and my sister was going to kill me!

I thought that maybe I could play the sick card and tell her that I couldn’t pick it all up, but then how would I explain the fact that I was so into watching television that I didn’t notice that she had taken off her diaper? I had to come up with a plan and come up with it real quick, cause it ain’t take that long to come back from buying ice cream at Mickie Dees!

I gave Danique a quick bath, put on a new diaper and armed myself with a diaper wipe and started to frantically look around for stuff on the floor.

Possums, let me tell you that God is so good! I only found one piece!

Danique is backed up!

She is anal retentive!

Just like her grandmother!

Then I thought to myself that if she really WAS like her grandmother, then somehow she must definitely be full of shit, so I began looking for more.

Then I saw a kettle chip on the floor.

I remembered that Dante was eating them and must have dropped one. I reached down and picked up the chip, but it wasn’t a potato chip. It ended up being a piece of do-do.

Possums, all of the sudden the thing emulsified in my hands!

In my BARE hands!

Totally liquefied!

So, Possums, when is kettle chip not a kettle chip?

Possums, it never was.

We were at the new Michael Kors store in the Toronto Eaton Centre. It is located on the fourth floor. When you come around the corner of the mall all you see is this cube of white. It is Mecca.

“Embarrass you? What? In front of the salespeople?” asked my mother.

“No. In front of the bags and shoes! This is a luxury store, and at these prices you know that the merchandise have a mind and mouth of their own!” I answered back.

Possums, I love the layout of the store! Mr. Michael even has his own runway show playing in the background on the wall.

Super-sized!

You almost feel like you are right on the runway as the model comes towards you. I was in a daze when my mother tugged at my arm.

“Why aren’t there more clothes on the racks?” she whispering loudly.

“Because Mr. Kors probably wants us to only focus on his latest collection. Why are you whispering so loud?” I asked her.

“Why? Is he gonna come out from the back room?” asked my mother.

“No, but this is a respectable establishment! People don’t pillage through the racks like it is some bargain basement! They smile at each other knowingly, as they finger the clothes appreciatively.”

“Oh,” she answered.

Possums, in most luxury stores there is not even a sale sign, but in Michael Kors, there are sale signs! I couldn’t believe it! You hear that Louis Vuitton and Tiffany’s!!

The sales girls were so nice with me, too! They didn’t even bat an eyelash when I asked what the price was, nor did I feel uncomfortable asking it either, unlike, the Louis Vuitton sales lady in Yorkdale Mall, who made a young girl cry afterwards, just because she asked the price of a bag, which she never bothered to buy for me because she just wanted to hightail it out of there, pronto!

Not that it happened to me.

It happened to Ava!

Possums, the sales lady on the phone even turn to me and asked me if I needed some help! She was so attentive! I felt so wanted.

“Where are the prices?” whispered Ava.

“I think that you are not supposed to ask for them,” I schooled her.

“Well, I can’t shop this way! I have to know how much something is before I fall in love with it! Just like I did with your father,” said my mother as she dug her fingers into a bag.  Possums, that is why my parents are so happy!

Ava does have great taste though! She liked what was to be my second favorite bag in the store. It is a tan number with a twisted braid going through it. But, I let her know that although it was her birthday next month, she was not going to get no bag.

Not before I got mine first.

Either that or when pigs fly!

I walked towards the shoe section. I caught a look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a pencil skirt, tiger print blouse that hung off my shoulder just so and sandals. I looked like a Black Catherine Deneuve in Belle of the Ball Du Jour! Mr. Kors would have been proud! As I looked in the mirror something else caught my eye. No it wasn’t my mother’s non-expression, but the people.

Black people!

Almost every customer in there was Black!

The security guard looked like his head was going to spin!

Ha!

There were so much Black people in the store that he didn’t know where to look! Eventually, Mr. Security Man gave up! The man turned around and looked straight ahead from his post.

I did notice, however, that all the white women came in and bought on their own. While, all the Black women had their men with them. Oh, Possums, you should have heard the pleading and the bargaining!

Possums, I didn’t even bother to look at the shoes. Lately, my feet keep on swelling. One day I am a size six ten and the next, an seven eleven. Anyways, it doesn’t matter. You know what they say about girls with big feet? Their large feet come in handy when her legs are over his shoulders while making love, and she is able to swat away flies!

And then it happened.

You know Possums, they say that when the air stands still an angel of the Lord is around you. I say when the air stands still you better hope that there is a mobile CPR machine available, cause I know I just lost my breath!

I was just about finished with the store when a leather apparition of such fashionistic- proportions came before me!

Possums, Mickey has done it!

This is a statement bag!

I don’t know about you, but Possums every once in awhile a designer will just hit that stride, that moment when they just get it on all levels.

Louis Vuitton has them Speedy bags.

Hermes has the Birkin and Kelly bags.

Fendi has those teeny tiny bags that keep slipping off my arms.

Michael Kors has the Hamilton Large Tote SKU #MKS10-V0GDW!

In Tan!!!

The bag comes in big and small, but as you know me so well  Possums, I preferred the larger of the two. In tan (yes, I said it twice and I will BOLD it too)!! Ava said she liked the smaller one better. I told Ava it was like choosing between a shorter-penis man and a longer-penis man. With hardly any coxing of my own, Ava realized that it was definitely a no-brainer. Thank Christ! I thought I had to pull out my notebook and draw pictures!

Possums, I needed me the bigger one!

I grabbed the bag off the rack. I know that I was probably being watched, but I don’t care. For once I didn’t feel my color. I felt like a shopper-a woman who was a lover of clothes and fine luxury items. Though, I couldn’t resist, I had to look at the price.

Then I felt Black.

Anyhoo, the price surprised me! It was reasonable, only about five hundred and change in Canadian dollars. And there are no waiting lists, either! Mr. Kors gets me. He is the white brother I never had. His clothes and bags are like a lover that is so great he makes your toes curl!

I brought the bag up closer to my eyes.

“Do you think this would fit me?” asked my mother pointing to an outfit from behind.

“No,” I answered.  Possums, my toes would curl so far back if I got this bag, that if I flung myself on the pavement in front airplanes…I could direct them in!

“And what about this?” asked my mother.

“No,” I answered. Possums, such a feat my toes would accomplish that people would think that a phenomenon had happened in the aviation industry! Maybe even garner me  a reality show!

“And this?” asked my mother.

“No,” I answered. Forget the reality show. Possums, don’t you think that we belong together?

“Do you think I could get your father to buy me this?” asked my mother.

“No,” I answered. Possums, I already made up my mind to buy a special jar and mark it with Hamilton Large Tote SKU #MKS10-V0GDW in Tan, so that I could start saving for my new purse. I think that good things come to those who pray hope and plead save, so instead of just buying it outright, I am going to be conscious and save up for it.

How recessionista of me!

I turned around with the bag in my hand, catching my mother off guard.

“What do you think about this bag?” I asked my mother.

My mother looked at it.

“You have to speak up mom. I can’t tell what you are thinking anymore!” I told her.

Possums, since my mother tattooed her eyebrows on, I can’t tell what she is thinking! She always looks surprise and in certain lights, angry! And on top of getting used to the darker brows, my mother no longer has her doe eyes. She ripped off her eyelashes! She and my sister! My mother used olive oil and water, while my sister used Vaseline and hot compresses.

No one used lash remover!

While my mother stood there trying to choose whether to cuss me out or decide over the prettiness of the bag, we both looked over to the sales lady trying to help a man along who was eyeing a watch.

“I know the watch is a little feminine, right?” the sales girl asked the man.

“Yes, but you could carry it off!” butted in my mother, looking up and down at the man’s light blue silk tight blouse and white silky pants.

An Update (The Next Morn):

“I want that bag! Please!” Ava told me pulling up a chair to the table.

I was having my morning espresso.

“Umm,” I answered.

“I heard rustling in the trees this morning when I got up!” she said.

“Chile, don’t think about trying to trick me,” I said putting my paper aside.

“That rustlin’ weren’t no pigs. It must have been a vampire!”

His sister, Baba (1912-1973), was one of his earliest and most frequent subjects. Him, being the great photographer, Sir Cecil Beaton (1904 -1980). Baba (Barbara) along with sister Nancy, would sit for Sir Beaton for hours as a willing participant.  The room and the clothes would somehow come together in order for their collaborations to come alive. Majority of their early pictures would be taken around the 1920’s and 30’s. If you look at them, they seem to shape his work of what was to come, what Sir Beaton would be famous for-the portraiture.

I remember sitting on my bed, of my yellow and white room (not my choice) reading my latest find from the library, when my sister Charro would come in and beg me to play with her and my brother. Of course there were serious negotiations, but I would follow her and my brother down to the basement.

My brother and sister would see a towel; I saw a brand new weave.

My brother and sister would see a bar stool; with just the right placement of a large blanket it was a gorgeous duplex.

My brother and sister would see a plastic telephone; I saw a way to communicate to our imaginary world outside our window.

My brother and sister would see an empty glass, but with just the right nudging begging of my sister; it would be filled with orange juice from the upstairs refrigerator, only to be downed by me.

And although, our playtime would always ended up in an argument…

“Play nice!” my mother would yell at us and then go back to her telephone conversation.

Looking back I realized that I must have added a certain je ne sais quoi to our adventures.

Similar to my misadventures, as his subject, Baba helped her brother create his own ideal world. Sir Beaton was captivated glamour. The slim of her nose, a tilt of the head and not a hair would be out of place! Baba would get a chance to be dressed in latest designs of the day, such as Sherard.  She even got the opportunity to pose for Vogue via her brother’s camera! And although, such portrait was taken in her brother’s acquaintance, Sir Henry Channon’s lavish dining room, most of their photographs had just a prop of decadent bouquet of flowers, vast mirrors, or gilded wall hangings. All still in the lavish style that was known Sir Beaton was known for.

What can we learn from Baba Beaton?

Sometimes, our siblings are used in the beginning of our creative because of one thing-THEIR FREE!! However, I think it is much more than that.  I think that siblings have a way of being our most forgiving and most encouraging audience. As the oldest there were times when I wished I had an older brother or sister to lean on and bounce ideas off of. But, as time went on, I came to realize that all I had to do is ask God for guidance. I asked Him to be my eyes where I could not see and the ears in a situation where I could not possibly hear.

Possums, it always worked.

It also freed up the time for me, my sister and brother to play.