why did god make men last really short during sex while making women last really long during sex? the answer is easy sillies… man on man and woman on woman relationships were ALWAYS meant to be… man jerks off another man and they’re like this is it, it’s enough of an adventurous “sex” for AT LEAST a month…. us lads, we GET each other in EVERY way… while lesbians are out there beating each other’s meat for half an hour and they go to round 2 ten seconds later… they’re strong legends, that’s what they are… long story short, miss nature knows what’s up… so what’s up? mlm and wlw is the NATURAL way of living while a man/woman relationship is just a FORMAL communal way to help procreate gay legends
In the lead-up to the Ye release, West bungled the label’s PR at every turn by drawing the ire of myriad audiences: He tweeted a photo of himself wearing a “Make America Great Again” hat, then aligned himself with Donald Trump and his “dragon energy,” then posted screenshots of famous friends attempting to steer him away from the proverbial sunken place; he said that 400 years of slavery “sounds like a choice.” For his part, Pusha T accepted Kanye’s suggestion to use a garish, $85,000 photo of the late Whitney Houston’s drug-strewn bathroom sink as the cover of Daytona; he also reignited a longstanding feud with Drake, dominating headlines with dispatches from his sojourn into the archives of Aubrey’s alleged indiscretions.
Meanwhile, the vacuous Nasir, Nas’s first album since his 2012 post-divorce record, Life Is Good, neglected to address the fact that ex-wife, Kelis, had recounted details of Nas’s alleged abuse just weeks prior to the album’s release. Taylor’s K.T.S.E. arrived at the tail end of these missteps, after the G.O.O.D. team had cemented its reputation as a home for artists lazily labeled “problematic.” Her work, like that of countless other female artists, thus became collateral damage in the ongoing circus of masculine misdeeds.
But the record itself, a compact eight-track albumette, buzzes with promise. Taylor’s voice is alternately husky and high-pitched. She lilts over slinky production, belts over the sound of high-powered lasers. Taylor, now the 27-year-old mother of Iman Tayla Shumpert Jr., wife of Iman Shumpert Sr., and proprietor of Junie Bee nail salon, sounds far more self-assured than she has on any prior records. She delves into personal insecurities and emerges confident, allows herself to be vulnerable while remaining steadfast in who she is.
“Abusers protect abusers” … louder for the people in the back!
Protect Terry Crews
Just from this interview alone I’m starting to think it’s because of Terry why B99 got cancelled. These abusers do stick together… Friend of a friend….
Can you imagine a nigga is deep in it, raw cuz yall been fuckin for a minute, and he pulls out and throws a piece of condom on ya stomach and walks out the door!!! I still cant believe that shit happened to me!
LOL What??
The nigga i dont use condoms with basically stroked a piece of condom that got stuck from another nigga out of me!
I want to tell y’all a story about supporting and loving your partner, starring my amazing wife.
I’ve mentioned before that I had an eating disorder for many years, and though I consider myself “recovered” there are aspects of my disorder that I still struggle with today — being quite a bit heavier than my wife is one of them.
When my wife and I moved in together back when we were still girlfriends, I was at my skinniest. She used to pick me up all the time and lift me off the ground, and I’d laugh and kick out my legs ‘cause I was just delighted to have her holding me.
But I started gaining weight as I went through recovery, and where once we were pretty close in size, I began to get bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And she remained her naturally petite self. I began to almost dread when she’d try to pick me up, sure that this time she wouldn’t be able to get me off the ground.
But every time, even if I protested, she’d lift me up and say something like: “See, you’re not so big that I can’t lift you!”
And one time I just blurted out: “But someday I’m going to be so fat you won’t be able to.”
She looked me dead in the eye and said: “No you won’t. Because if that ever happens, I’ll start working out.”
It was the best possible thing she could have said to me, because she wasn’t saying I wasn’t going to get fat
—
neither of us knew that for sure. She was just saying that I was never going to be “too fat” for her.
And every time I worry about getting bigger, I remember that I’ll never be so big that she can’t lift me, because baby knows how much I love being held, and she’ll change her own habits to ensure that I never feel “too big” or “too heavy” because in her eyes I’ll never be “too” anything.
Anyway, there’s a moral to this story: Find yourself a partner who will never consider you an excess. You should never be “too much” to someone who loves you — too big, too loud, too passionate, too awkward, whatever your “too” happens to be. And even as you change and grow (in my case, literally), the right person will be there through the changes, to tell you that you’re always just right for them.
My strongwoman, the wind beneath my wings, the arms under my ass. 😍😍 😍
