Written by Marvelous Mo for Blogxilla.com

F*ck forgiveness!  That bish f*cked my MAN!

Whoa!  That was an Angry Black Woman spazz out on my end, my bad!  Every now and then, ya girl wakes up in a cold sweat holding an imaginary butcher knife with fresh blood on it thinking I killed the whore who screwed the love of my life (at that point of my life).  I’ve since moved on emotionally from this guy and a few relationships later, I still have flash backs of the anger I felt when my closest friend from school did the ultimate taboo: f*cked my boyfriend.

You see, back when I was in school I had no clue what the hell I was getting into with certain things and certain people.  The magnitude of a person’s words and actions weren’t apparent and obvious at the time and I sure as hell wasn’t smart enough to suspect anything.  I took people for who they SAID they were, not by what they have proven themselves to be.  So, my situation was with a friend who SAID she would never betray me and a boyfriend who SAID he never lie to me, and in most cases try to make me look like I was the idiot for noticing his bull shit.  I was head over heels for this guy and was deeply in love with him.  It was a major thing for me.

To make a long story shot, I had to snoop in peoples email addresses to figure out why my man and my best friend were acting so different around me, walking away when I entered a room, stopped looking me in my eye,  and the whole bit.  Point blank, it was my fault why these two people ended up fucking each other.  Their sexcapade is the product of what happens when you’re 19-20 years old, naive and in a serious relationship with someone.  I allowed them to get too close thinking that they both loved me enough to not even think about going there.  And even though I exclude my family from my personal life, my own Mom picked up on that odd paring and warned me to keep my man and my friends separated.  I rolled my eyes thinking she was being nosey, but damn it if mothers aren’t the smartest people you could ever know sometimes!

Written by Marvelous Mo for Blogxilla.com

What’s up world?  My Blogxilla.com family?!  Ya girl Marvelous Mo got a conundrum on her hands and I need your help…no, seriously!

Last Wednesday one of my good friends had a listening session for a project he did paying homage to Michael Jackson.  Now, before you start to roll your eyes about that, he was working on this project months before MJ’s passing.  Well, we were all there in support of our friend and his amazing accomplishment [check it out for yourself here] when this fine piece of man specimen walked in the vicinity. I mean, I was literally creating a Twitter message saying “As usual, there is no eye candy here” when he walked in.  Hypnotized, mesmerized, taken by his appearance, I was eye fucking him like crazy.  I didn’t even realize it.

Let’s call this guy “Andy.”  Andy is at least 6′ 2″ and very muscular.  Not like body builder muscular, but muscular enough. I hate to take it there, but for the sake of the visual he’s light skinned (rolls eyes @ saying that).  He’s bald and handsome as hell to the point where I was convinced this guy models for a living.  I’m not joking, either.

Andy peeped me checking him out and he liked what he saw too *pops collar* so he sat right next to me.  I sparked a conversation with this nice young man and found out he’s NOT a model.  He’s an accountant who has lived in New York for two years and is currently studying for his exams to get into grad school.  I had to ask my boy if this was true because there was no way someone THAT FINE can be some damn accountant.

Anywho, what disappointed me were those great qualities about the guy.  His day consists of WORK-GYM-STUDY-WORK-GYM-STUDY.  In fact, his down time is gym time (surprised?).  He unwinds at the gym.  He has fun at the gym.  He spends his off time at the gym, then comes home to study.  Look, I am all for this guy being so straight and narrow, but he just looked like a bowl of 2 day old plain oatmeal at that point.

With all that sexiness, how can he be so….boring?  I mean, I told him that he should try to do different things and he responded, “Maybe I need someone to show me these things.”  Now I can be great company, but there’s only one thing on my mind when I look at him….sex!   Well, not the only thing, but he is a sexy mother fucker.  He’s Hoe Card worthy, but I want to get to know him and see where it may take me.

Here’s my thing.  Ladies, you know the said rule about very muscular men is that their wangs are hella small.  I’m looking at him with that side eye knowing this rule of thumb.  For his sake of livelihood, I hope he does have a nice size wang [and knows how to use it] because for a person who is so straight and narrow, you better have a mean stroke game to keep a chick around (it’s similar to guys whose stroke game is weak, but can eat the shit out of your coochie).  Because let’s face it, as fine as he is you know he’s pulling chicks left and right, but most times sex seals the deal or breaks it.  Boisterous men sometimes fail in the sex department when the laid back humble type of guys usually surprise the shit out of you.  One of those “Lady in the streets but a freak in the bed” type of folks.

So, Xilla family…LET’S FIGURE THIS OUT TOGETHER!  Fellas, I know y’all read Xilla’s blog because I’ve discovered many of copy and pasted stories from here in an email chain.  SO STOP FRONTING!  Ladies, you know I need you to give me the run down on this!

• Do muscular guys have a weak sex game or do they have a surprisingly good sex game?
• Are their wangs usually small if they are more muscular than the average guy who works out?
• Is all that gym time a psychological way of compensating for a lack of endowment?
• Have you dated someone fine and muscular?  What has your discovery about them been?

and FYI:  I’m a still talk to this guy because he’s nice.  We don’t have to get physical if things seem a little “small” though. lol

THERE WERE NO SHOTS FIRED IN THE MAKING OF THIS POST.

model: Otisquest Jackson

I’m baaaaaaaack! Muhahahahaha! Whether you missed me or not, I’m here until Xilla kicks me out! Check this out! Yesterday my handsome friend tweeted some realness that made me hate you dysfunctional baby mamas…again:

“My 2 yr old god daughter just called her dad another mans name when she came from her moms house.. Smh Damn man.. Chicks r the worse” “@_______ yo my brother is besides himself fam.. he don’t know what to do.. she gon’ say ‘sorry you had to find out this way.’ REALLY????”

Poor guy concluded his rant thanking the lawd jeezus that he doesn’t have any kids with a crazy baby mama. Look what you hoes done did now. Scared the handsome friend that I have into ziplocking his sperm from a crazy chick. On one of my favorite blogs YouKnowYouDeadAzzWrong, DurtyMo constantly posts pictures of baby mamas doing hoe poses in pumps and lingerie while their son/daughter looks at them in utter amazement. In one of the pics I showed Xilla, her daughter was trying to do the pose WITH HER. You know, like mother like daughter. Any woman with the nut sacks to do some shit like that should have their kids taken away. AND I MEAN IT! It’s like a gateway to more hoe shit, including this problem my boy was upset about.

 Why bring your children around your hoe shit? Introducing your kids to your fling and finding it acceptable to have them fuck up the respect level needed to maintain a fairly balanced cordiality between you and your baby father that NEED to last for as long as your kid is alive and walking this planet? I really don’t understand that. I’m a need all of my grown ass adults with children to do better…for real, b. I’m a tell you right now that IT IS NOT OK TO INVOLVE YOUR KIDS IN YOUR HOE SHIT AND IN YOUR PROBLEMS WITH YOUR MEN! And I KNOW there is someone reading this here post that is guilty of doing this at least once. I know three times as many, maybe more, are guilty of having that cross your mind because dude pissed you off so bad one time that the thought of revenge made you happy. I need you to dig deep into that mind of yours and talk to me….

1. What makes you use your kids as a messenger to address adult situations
2. What happened to the respect level between you and your child’s father?
3. Is it that bad to the point you result in pulling that card with his kid?
4. What does it do for you as a woman when you take it there?

Talk to me, whether through personal experiences or speaking about your unethical friend/family member…. I WANT TO UNDERSTAND YOU HOES. -Marvelous Mo

Written by Marvelous Mo for Blogxilla.com

What up Xilla Heads?  My bad for not stopping by the comment section last week. Ya girl was preparing for her first trip to L.A. for the BET Awards [BIG SHOUT OUT TO XILLA!]. If you’re anything like me, then you leave packing ‘til the night before and buying toothpaste, toothbrushes and other stuff a few hours before your flight. Here in NYC, working as a writer and blogging on the side is a hustle like no other. I love writing, so that’s not the issue. It’s the politicking and staying professional that is a kicker. If you haven’t noticed within these past few weeks, I’m a hot mess.

I thought flying out to L.A. and keeping that same professional ethic would be a breeze, but boy was I wrong. While some of my home girls were encountering some of the corny dusty ass guys the West Coast could offer, I saw some fine ass guys left and right! I felt like I was in a dream with all these sexy men around me. Being that I’m a NYC girl, they were digging me, too. If you’re curious about some professional actors (obviously not on some Tom Hanks level) and musicians being a part of that collective, then yes (um, no name dropping. Fuck I look like, Super Head?).  I praised the Lawd Jeeezus that I was on the menstrual because being that I was out of town, I was ready to pull out my Hoe Card.

Hoe Cards are like eggs in a woman’s ovaries, you’re born with it.  This Hoe Card us women have is something we “pull out” when we are ready to do some hoe shit: one night stands, threesomes, fucking friend’s boyfriends, etc. and charge our actions to the game. You know, like a time card. Some of you slores discovered your Hoe Card when you were teens. Some women are such prudes, they don’t use it until they are in their 50s or Cougar/M.I.L.F. status. I never used my hoe card because I’m a freakin’ prude with freaky thoughts, but this weekend I instinctively reached for it to clock in on my Hoe’n time. By all means, having a Hoe Card isn’t a bad thing. While you’re single, you’re supposed to be clocking in your hours before you settle down. I’m kinda pissed I haven’t used mine yet, but that’s because I’m hella picky about my men (next week’s topic!).

I know for sure that if I weren’t on that cycle, I would have accrued some hours on my hoe card and left my secrets in L.A. for nobody to know…the way I like my B.I. to be handled!

Questions:

• How many of y’all discovered your Hoe Cards?
• What age have you discovered yours?
• How many hours do you honestly think you got on that card of yours?
• When do you think Hoe Cards should be revoked?
• Do you have a fond moment when you had your Hoe’n experience?

Disclaimer: Usually I trash you hoes who abuse your Hoe Card privileges, but today is your day to get down and share your stories. You know I’m bi-polar.  One week I hate you, the other week I love you.   LMAO!  Nah, seriously, though.   Share your stories if you feel what I’m saying!

Written by Marvelous Mo for Blogxilla.com
So it was my sophomore (or junior) year in high school when the notice got out that an all boys private high school in Harlem was throwing a dance and they extended their invitation to our school.  Being in an all girl Catholic high school was a BITCH, so any type of testosterone involved I tried to be around it.  At the dance, which happened to be during the height of the Coogi phenomenon, I spotted this guy [Let's call him JEFF] who was checking me out.  We danced, exchanged  numbers and I left smiling on cloud nine.  It wasn’t long when he asked me on a date and introduced me to his funny friends.  We talked and hung out more, but my mom grew concerned at how much time I was hanging with this guy on my weekends.  Mom proposed that she speak with his mom just so she can figure out what type of person I’m hanging out with.  While I’m on AOL chatting in a chatroom and doing homework (by the way, AIM-ing casually & doing homework isn’t even possible to do), my Mom calls me in the kitchen while she’s wiping a tear from her eyes from all the laughter she experienced in her phone call. With hardly any self composer, she attempts to tell me, “Hun, I don’t know how to tell you this but… ::blurted giggle:: JEFF is your cousin! ::roaring laugh on both ends of the phone::

Somehow, our parents found it funny, but I was left with a dilemma.  I kind of liked this guy but he’s my cousin.  We already kissed and he implied that he wanted to do some other things to me by trying to tell me through 112’s song “Peaches & Cream” (that I totally didn’t get until he just bluntly said it), but now I’m finding out he’s my cousin. Hmm …. although he wasn’t really blood related, just through marriage, it was still a creepy ass situation to the point of me breaking it off.  Til this day, I am SO thankful that I was young, a prude, a virgin & totally disconnected from the world of sex because you know I would have took that peen down.  He had a huge one…it was thick.  I nearly fainted when I felt it. smh…

Today, not much has changed with me besides having experienced a few men in my life (a story & question I’ll share with you perhaps next week) including my stance on this type of situation.  However, in the moment of need and desire, your brain and body tends to blend the code of ethics that normally would be fair and stern during any time of a normal circumstance.  It’s hard to fathom incest or to even try and understand the justification behind a person sexing their cousin or step relative, but it happens more often than you think.  The all mighty Morgan Freeman has had some trouble in paradise where it was recently discovered that he took down his step granddaughter’s putang .  If  I’m not mistaken, he’s been hitting that since she was 17 years old.  As a woman who loves her father, the thought of taking down a step relative makes me want to jump  into a cage of lions.  I even thought about circumstances where nobody would EVER find out about us and still, I prefer to circumcise my clit off my body…

But I do live for a freak tale.    The platform is all yours!

QUESTIONS:

• Have you ever thought about having intercourse with your relative?
• Have you had sex with a step cousin, distant cousin, step sibling, step parent…?  If so,  was it only a one time thing, or was this a continuous relationship?
• If you currently have a relative who is fuckable, under what circumstances would you be in inorder for you to have a fling with them?
• What are your personal views on taking down a socially forbidden person?

Disclaimer: In no shape or form will I judge you if you have or have not crossed the line to bite into the forbidden fruit.

Written by Marvelous Mo for BlogXilla.com

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH Na na na na!” When I wake up in the morning and I’m feeling extra happy and I feel that I have no limits to my life, I automatically sing that in my head. What are some things that make me feel good about life? Conducting interviews and pieces people really enjoy, hearing great words from my colleagues, good penis, delicious left overs…you get my point. One thing that is definitely not appreciated on a daily basis that we are all guilty of is love from a parent/relative. Specifically, my father. The man has been with me since I took my first breath on this planet & is still supporting my dreams and encouraging my ambitions. So, I guess to add to that list of “things that make Mo feel good” is being loved by my father. This Sunday is a day for all fathers and father figures in your life, hopefully they are alive and well to share it with. If not, well, this world is about to get nuked by North Korea anyway so it looks like he’s in a better place after all.

Sorry, ladies. I’m totally not on your side this go round on Blogxilla.com. I want to acknowledge all the fly papas/suave papis/sexy daddies/single fathers out there who is about to get some major pussy in the coming days. I tweeted on Twitter a few days ago: “next sunday will expose all the chicks who have daddy issues. Guys, gear up. she might let you smash because she’s an empty soul.” For father’s day, take some desperate, depressed, low self esteem pussy down after you drop your kids off at their mother’s house. Matter fact, if that chick is your baby’s mother, tell your mother to watch the kids. Let’s face it: some of you hoes have daddy issues. We spoke about this, so I won’t beat a dead horse this go-round. Needless to say, Father’s Day will make you chicks feel:

• -sad/angry
• -unwanted
• -in need of attention
• -empty
• -depressed
• -useless
• -like a failure
• -numb

…do i need to continue? Fellas, isn’t that the PERFECT time to dip your stick in a chick? She’s vurnable & angry needing a quick fix or a hug saying, “Can you make me feel good?” Don’t be a noble stand up guy and say, “Sorry, you’re drunk/not in the right mind state. It wouldn’t be right to have sex with you at your weakest time.” No! You don’t say a fucking word. You just take that snatch down like your fucking for your freedom.

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Model Karen Morgan

Dear Blogxilla.com Readers:

I quit! My ignorance has finally shown its ugly face and you guys held the flashlight…well, some of you. Now I won’t apologize for JACK SHIT.

A bitch got nice hair, end of story. That’s not the point, though. Lots of you got myyyy-teeee offended for personal reasons, some of you are just angry kneegrows and get mad when another kneegrow isn’t repping hardbody for nappy roots (no fish scales) and reparations. Some of you saw my point (shout out to you guys *smile*), but then there is a loyal reader named Sunny who sonned the kid (as we say in New York). Sunny is the way you make a person feel STUPID and still keep your respect intact. I took notes and perhaps you people should too: READ HER COMMENT HERE! Trust me, as arrogant, ignorant, racist and honest as I am people like myself enjoy a good lyrical ass whoopin. I encourage that and TRUST it gets recognized. On that note, ixxnay that part two that I mentioned. I will definitely mention complexion issues at some point, but under no circumstances do I want it linked to our banter about Indian hair.

NOW… Let’s talk business…

Living in New York all of my life has its blessings and disadvantages. The upside about living in NYC is being around a mix of people. It’s amazing to see fine men of so many races and complexions with different accents or backgrounds. With my already mixed background, I’m used to the mixing of cultures and it’s definitely a shock when I visit predominantly black areas outside of NYC. I could NEVER live in Atlanta. That’s like eating fried shrimp every day for dinner. Can a chick have some variety (and I don’t mean DL men variety either!). Back in NYC, I see a few handsome men of all races and as I’m getting older I’m starting to get curious. I break my neck if I see a cute white boy or Greek man or Italian man… even Blasian (black & Asian mix). When I see a couple that is consisted of black & white, I watch them & how they deal with the attenion they cause. I mean let’s face it– people are still calling that taboo. It wasn’t even a year ago to this day when the thought of me dating someone not Hispanic or West Indian was taboo. My how times have changed my ways.

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Written By Marvelous Mo For BlogXilla.com

Last week I wanted to switch it up and talk about head boppin/crotch diving/ shaft licking… you know, giving head. Nothing repulsive or anything. Unfortunately, most birds in the comment section focused on two words out of the entire blog post: INDIAN HAIR. I tried and tried to steer back on the topic of head wondering why these commenters focused solely on my self description, but nothing worked. So once again I will describe myself to you…. I’m 5’ 8” 132-135 lbs, brown skinned with INDIAN HAIR.

Wonder why I chose “Indian”? It’s because my grandparents who aren’t from Puerto Rico are from India. The fucktards in the comment section demanded that I try to rock my hair in its natural state, like letting it air dry or something. Now why in the HELL would I do that? That’s what salons are there for: wash and roller set with the occasional hair coloring. I started to take this issue a little TOO personal, but then I realized that I don’t have the problem, YOU DO.

Most of my life I’ve been told I’m “too dark” by kneegrow women who realized my skin was beautiful, even and clear. I’ve been told I “wear weaves” or “that shit ain‘t her hair” by kneegrow women who WISHED they had hair like mine and who felt it was thoroughly impossible to be my complexion and have nice hair like that. I’ve been told that my overbite sticks out when I laugh. Now that may be true, but your man loves my laugh and also finds me quite funny. You mad? Ladies, put down the knives and guns. Is it THAT serious to put down a chick if she is prettier than you or have features you WISH you had? Do you know why most of my friends coming up weren’t black? Because of this stupid shit right here; I befriended first generation chicks from Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Spain, Virgin Islands…the heritages I felt I most related to. I never had to hear anything negative from them or their families.

You know what I do when I see a pretty female who’s rocking a fly pair of shoes, a fly outfit or perhaps nice hair? I tap her on the shoulder and let her know what I think. “Hey, I noticed your shoes and I think they are dope. Great taste!” and then I walk away. Women with confidence and security in themselves are able to do that without an underline motive. I bet most of you on the keyboard right now couldn’t do that at all.

Ladies, talk to me. What do YOU do when you notice another female rocking fly accessories or have a nice hair do? What’s up with you? What’s up with kneegrow chicks, too? Why the hate? Why is there a lack of camaraderie with young ethnic women? Why are most of you so confident on the keyboard? I bet some of you were sending “A/S/L” IMs in AOL chatrooms and sending twat pics to men because you’re wack in person.

And yeah, I called some of you “kneegrows” just now. Part two of this blog post next week will touch on complexion issues.

Sexy Luscious

Written by Marvelous Mo for BlogXilla.com 

I love mouthing off. I’m a sassy 5′ 8″ 135 lbs Scorpion brown skinned long (natural) Indian hair lady who loooooooooves mouthing off. Oh no, nothing negative. Nothing sassing another person. I’m talking about “mouthing” off. You see, if it weren’t for my TMJ disorder, I’d be like an algae fish on my lover’s crotch. True story.

Nothing turns me on more than pleasing my man. When I make fun of you birds and specifically talk about “shaft licking” or “ball sucking” I am definitely thinking about the times I pleased my partner. Now, the difference between me and you birds is that my loving is Fort Knox worthy. So stingy with the punany. My love life literally has an on and off switch. If I’m not dating someone, then I’m not sexing. If I am steadily dating someone, then you know what’s up.

When I’m in a relationship with someone, all I want to do is please them. Literally all day I’m thinking about them. I think the best part about sex is the thought about having it again, especially when you relive the last sex session and wondering how great it would feel at that present moment. The exact moment when you have a crazy deadline or when someone is in the next room, pure excitement. You zone out. You feel/see your body parts react as you reminisce to the walk down Fuck Me Lane. It can work me up like a pressure cooker. Every minute or moment I don’t get it, the pressure builds and my patience runs out. Everything around me becomes irrelevant and words become muffled and washed away from the moaning and grunting my partner is making in my mind. The idea of sex is just as good as sex. If you ask me, that’s JUST as good as the real thing. Crazy, isn’t it? Well, let’s bring out the realness. First off, sex is mostly MENTAL stimulation.

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Written by Marvelous Mo for BlogXilla.com

In the last post, I touched on disgruntled baby mothers and how they end up raising kids with daddy issues. As expected, a number of you in the comment section suggested I take out my bat and verbally beat the daylights out of the absent men who refuse to be in the picture. Look, for the most part we are all adults here. Do you really need another published content dissing dead beat fathers? How many times do you need “Don’t abandon your kids. They need you, you selfish bastard.” written when we all know that shit is dead wrong? Guess what? Even HE knows…he’s just fronting! It’s beating a dead horse. We know, we know, we know! If you got major issues with me doing this, direct your frustrations off the keyboard and start cold calling names out the phonebook and let the man know he’s worth less than a rusty nail.

Nevertheless, all the “He ain’t worth a damn! I hate my father/ baby father!” won’t excuse the fact that you mamas/baby mamas once thought highly of the man. For the most part, most of you happily parted your legs and let him splash off into your vajajay. Now, this is where the details get sketchy: somewhere down the line, someone dropped the ball. *gasp* Could it have been you? Either way, what you and him did created a child and since he isn’t around (or just not around enough) to tell the other side of the story as to why he isn’t there, you’re left to do the dirty work. You’re forced to look your kid in the eye and answer the questions that breaks your heart to answer. Of course, when man/woman tells the story of history, they tell HIS-story not the truth.

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