*audibly moans in her office*

Reblogged from sex is not the enemy

#quivering

Reblogged from La Bella Vita

Esquire named Rihanna the sexiest woman alive

I'm flip-flopping between wanting to RAVISH her and wanting to BE her, but either way this picture screams sex and all I can say is DAYUM.

 

Something E and I [and evidently my friend M] agree upon

Reblogged from On the Bright Side

Like, for real though. When I'm cruising along on that dating site I still haven't gotten any actual dates from [whatever, I know I'm fabulous] and I see a guy whose Favorite Books section includes legitimate LITERATURE instead of just graphic novels and Harry Potter (or worse: "I don't read much"), major cool points are added.

I'm exhausted but cannot go to sleep without talking about:

Erykah Badu's voice!

So small confession time: I wasn't the hugest fan of Erykah Badu when I somewhat nonchalantly suggested that K and I go see her when she came to Atlantic City. I was still excited when he wanted to turn my suggestion into a reality, and planned to bone up on my Badu-knowledge before the show, but with all the craziness of my past week that just didn't happen. So I was expecting to know the hits, be generally pleased by the rest even if I couldn't sing along, and enjoy myself for the most part. 

I love those experiences where reality exceeds your expectations. Blown away can't even begin to cover it.

HER VOICE. I CANNOT BELIEVE HER VOICE. 
30 seconds into the show she had me and K both going "MMMMM!" and it got better from there. Her voice made me wanna touch myself, in both senses of the phrase. Every time she showcased those chords of hers by doing a fancy trill or hitting an impossibly high note, I had to clap my hands or snap my fingers or stomp my feet to help all that energy pass through me cleanly. I found myself grabbing at my thighs, my neck, digging my fingernails into my collarbone, out of a need to both hold myself together and a desire to rip myself apart and let all that spirit into me. (I wonder if that's how people feel when they "catch the Holy Ghost" at church. Hmm...) I mean, I've always loved her sound, but hearing the raw talent and beauty amplified over a small dark grown-folks space (and being one of the grown-folks there!)...it was all I could do not to sink to the floor and revel in it sometimes. Never have I been in awe of a performer like this. I almost want to say that her CDs don't do her justice. She is a performer, not a recording artist. I wish I could bottle the energy she had tonight and the beauty and the talent and the attitude and the ass (to quote K: Erykah Badu has ass for days. DAYS.) and just carry it around in my back pocket every time I need to be reminded of love and magic and truth and beauty and the knee-weakening power of peace. Maybe I'm just particularly susceptible to beautiful things right now, but tonight I feel like I witnessed greatness. She is so...herself and like no one else. It's inspiring. She may not want to be a role model, according to a little song she sang to introduce herself, but dammit I will see her as an inspiration. The strength of her soul pours out of every pore. I want to be radiantly me in the same way. I don't feel particularly chained, but she makes me want to seek liberation. She makes me want to be...greater than everything I am, but also makes me feel like the only thing I need to do to be greater is to BE thoroughly who I am. I hope that makes some kind of sense. I'm rambling. It's 3 am. Something wonderful happened here. I will post videographic evidence once I get home tomorrow to my own computer to upload the files.     

I always chuckle slightly to myself when I put a mug or a glass down after taking a sip of my drink, and see the perfect imprint of my lower lip marking the rim of the glass in some shade of red or brown lipstick. I like the way seeing that makes me feel. I can't really explain it, but it makes me feel...adult somehow. "Strange/ like I [am] a woman or sumthin". Kind of sexy, too, even though those fancy (read: expensive) lipsticks that don't rub off are supposed to be sexier now. I can understand that, but I like the idea of leaving a little piece of me behind on my mug, or on that spot where a guy's neck becomes his collarbone [my favorite spot to kiss]. A lip-print I might be identified by. A reminder that I am a woman who takes the time to look "put together", and I was here.

As I passed the strip club today,

I saw that they've started advertising for their Thanksgiving special. It involves wrestling in a giant pumpkin pie. Maybe Quad has ruined me forever, having introduced me to food fights on a whole new level (chocolate pudding fight as part of Willy Wonka-themed initiations. Ask, if you'd like. I'll tell.), but the first thing I thought when I saw that was DAMN THAT SOUNDS LIKE FUN. 

Feel free to judge me, lmao. 

I /shouldn't/ put this on Facebook, but it NEEDS to be shared...

I <3 college?