Thought Catalog

Here’s The Real Reason You’re Good Enough

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 07:00 PM PST

Liat A

As human beings, we have a tendency to look at ourselves through the wrong kind of lens. We create perceptions of who we are, and what we have to offer, based on a vision of ourselves that is often centered around our faults.

Far too often I hear someone refer to themselves as not being "good enough" for another human being. This always confuses, and deeply saddens me, because I unconditionally believe that we are all good enough for one another, and there is only one reason why.

You are good enough because you house within yourself a heart that beats deeply and feels without question. You are good enough because that beating heart gives you the ability to love someone in the most profound way. That is all that matters. Your past does not matter, your faults do not matter – the only thing that matters is that you have a heart.

The next time you allow for your mistakes to govern how purposeful you feel, remember – the right people, the genuine people, the ones who aren't merely social acquaintances or convenient friends in life, the ones who will inspire you and challenge you and uplift you, those people will never see you through the lens of your mistakes. You are the only person who will do that.

The person who admires you will love you for you who are, blunders included, because burdens and baggage and insecurity – none of that phases the heart. It only phases the mind.

The person you think you "aren't good enough" for will believe in your heart and nothing else, for that is what defines you in their eyes. You are good enough to them because you have within you this radiant ability to care. You are good enough to them because you have within you this overwhelming ability to feel. Stop using your mind to convince yourself otherwise, and give all of that burden, all of that doubt, all of that judgment to your heart, for it is the strongest thing you have within yourself.

Your heart is stronger than your past. Your heart is stronger than your doubt. Your heart can carry your baggage on its back and will still run circles around the freckles in the eyes of the person you admire. Your heart is stronger than your mistakes, and it is stronger than your negativity. Your heart is strong. It is resilient. It will never, ever change, or spoil, or lose its ability to give all of itself to someone. It is capable of love, no matter what, and that is all that someone will see within you – that is all that someone will fall in love in.

Give it freely, for it is good enough. TC mark

Read more of Bianca Sparacino’s writing in her new book Seeds Planted in Concrete here.


33 Men Compare Sex With A Condom To Sex Without One: ‘Like Showering In A Plastic Jumpsuit’

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 06:00 PM PST

via Shutterstock
via Shutterstock


Kiss your hand.
Now place a plastic grocery bag over your hand.
Now kiss your hand.

It sucks.


Imagine showering in a plastic jumpsuit. You can feel the pressure from the water, but can you feel the water? No.


Sex with a condom is like picking up dog poo with a bag, you know you have shit in your hand, but you don’t freak out – Daniel Tosh


Girl here with a steady partner. I can feel condoms too. Not a fan and neither is he, though they are a must when sleeping with people casually, or starting something up with a new person.

I have talked to guys (well okay a guy) who says he doesn't mind and has always used them. I guess it's what you're used to right?


I’m female. I hate condoms. It feels like fucking a dildo, the friction is weird and without the liberal addition of lube it leaves me rubbed raw.

That said, I will still gladly use one with any new untested partner.


With a Condom feels like a warm plastic bag. Lack of any ‘true’ feeling. Without a condom feels like warm wet velvet. I also find that you are able to feel the woman’s vagina muscles rolling with her Orgasm.


I’m probably in the minority here but I don’t mind condoms.


Depends on what condoms you get and which are right for you. I’ve gone through so many brands, and some really suck. I been buying Crown condoms in bulk lately and they’re amazing.


Think fit is key, normal condom chokes my erection and is really hard to get on, once i found the slightly larger one it was great, with and without feels different but they both feel good.


Sex with a condom feels 100% more pleasurable than the anxiety of possibly being pregnant or genital wart removal.


It definitely feels better without a condom and I like to go without every now and then, but it’s still really good with one on. I’m ok with sacrificing a bit of sensitivity to know I’m definitely not getting my girlfriend pregnant (she’s on the pill as well).


In our country people say that fucking with condom is like showering with anorak or eating ice cream with bag on it. Anyway still better to have sex with condom than don’t have sex at all.


I cannot cum with a condom.


Honestly, I prefer sex with a (thin) condom.

It does feel different without, but I am uncircumcised and the tip of my penis is very sensitive, with a fragile frenulum. So a condom helps take the potential “pain” of friction away, and makes sex more pleasurable.

But the difference between a featherlite condom and no condom at all really isn’t massive – certainly no barrier to outstanding sex.


I often find wearing a condom constricts blood flow a little, meaning if I’ve been drinking or am on medication (which I am now), it can make it that much easier to lose my erection during. I was in a stable relationship where I got out of the habit of wearing one (long term monogamous, she on birth control, I pulled out) and I WAY prefer that. If there was another way to have sex with people and (almost) guarantee I won’t get her pregnant/get an STI, I’d take it.


Bareback sex is fricking awesome. There’s no denying it. We’d all love to go around fucking as many people as we can. That too can be awesome. Mother Nature did a real fine job making bareback sex awesome.. and addictive. It’s why there are 7 billion of us on the planet.

But. Ah, always a but. But she also invented STDs, and babies. Both suck.

So.. sometimes, a condom is a necessity. You can make condoms suck less by choosing the right size, and doing the lube trick. But condoms will never, ever, ever.. be as good as bareback sex.


Two different kinds of guys. Guys that get off from constriction, and guys that get off from friction. Friction guys hate condoms (see the many “you can’t feel anything!” comments), constriction guys, don’t really care either way. So, depends which kind of guy you’ve got…


I actually don’t hate condoms, but I must say that unprotected sex feels lot better! It also adds a level of intimacy being unprotected. once my girlfriend went on birth control, we have unprotected sex every time. Its amazing. Plus, cumming inside her is incredibly sexy.


I prefer a condom for several reasons. 1) less stress about STI’s 2) less stress about pregnancy “The ultimate STI in my opinion. 3) I feel like I am taking responsibility for my half of the equation, too often is it left completely to the female partner in a hetero relationship to protect both of you from pregnancy. 4) Lasting longer, it changes 30 mins into an hour which can be a lot more fun. I dislike it when people complain about condoms for the simple reason that it’s a part of being a responsible partner and life is a whole lot better that we have access to them. It’s like complaining about cars because there is traffic.


Honestly, the comfort in knowing I had added protection was equally as fun as the thought of cumming inside of my gf (now wife).

I liked both just as much. Sex is fucking fun…what can I say?


Sex has been shown to feel much better not only for men but for women without condoms. The direct contact makes for a better feeling for many and more so at the end semen causes a chemical reaction in women that tends to cause a more satisfying or even elevated experience. In many years I know I have had less sensation or even failure to climax while using one. I’ve heard many women also assert that they prefer it without, something I learned long ago with a girl I was once dating. She had gotten sick and the medication she was put on nullified her birth control. We we’re very active but given the problem at hand we used protection, which I wasn’t thrilled with the idea but even less with the thought of the possible consequences.

After the first time using she didn’t tell me that she wasn’t very happy with it, until the second time. She told me at first she thought maybe it was the medication or her illness that caused her not feeling the usual satisfaction, but that after the second time she wanted me to know that she wasn’t enjoying it nearly as much and she had a guess as to why, the condom. That went on for about a month, because of the meds and the wait to get back on birth control. That fist night back to sex without one set that idea in concrete. Everything that she seemed to have pent up for that month was released, so much so, she didn’t ask, but demanded more. I was in full agreement, that was a long, long, night. 7 times over and watched the sun rise. I am a firm believer that it’s just that much better, and have stuck with that since then.


I can’t tell you how much better this makes me feel. My husband and I have been using condoms for a while and the last couple of times I just haven’t enjoyed it, and I could tell he wasn’t really either. Those were months ago, before he had a vasectomy, and we haven’t had PIV since while we wait for his test to come back all clear.

But I’ve been trying to figure out why it didn’t feel very good, and I’ve been debating discussing it with him. I’m worried that because I haven’t had good sex in so long (probably 6 months?) I’ve somehow trained myself not to expect it or enjoy it. I’m worried that when we start doing it again I’ll have to retrain my body to love it as much as I used to.

I’m really, REALLY hoping that I experience something like your girlfriend did, because this has really been weighing on me. I am so incredibly sexually frustrated that I barely even want to look at my husband right now because I know I’m not going to get any, but at the same time I’m scared that even if I did I wouldn’t enjoy it.


There is a feeling loss that can happen for both sides. More so is the chemical reaction for women. Where men are more of the feeling that occurs, women miss out more on a chemical release in their bodies. Sperm has been shown to cause a release of chemical such as endorphins, estrone, prolactin, oxytocin, thyrotropin-releasing hormone, and serotonin, which can cause higher senses of pleasure and also connectivity with your partner. In a certain sense, if it’s something your used to (sex without a condom) and then begin using condoms, it can trigger withdraw like symptoms in your brain. The lack of the chemicals being released can make your brain associate a loss of pleasure, as well as it can affect your sex drive and even cause depression, same as quitting most drugs or chemicals would do to you.

I’m not a doctor or specialist in these things, but I have done a lot of research and experiments into this over the years. The facts are there, you can look it up much of for yourself, as well as personal experience and discussion with others on it, is how I’m best able to state these things. Though everyone is different and can react to things differently, it’s best to know in your situation, that your not alone out there. Plenty of people do feel this way. When you have the opportunity to test it though, then you will better know how accurate these things pertain to you.


P in the V without the C is da best.


That is the best part of having been with the same woman for 16 years. I don’t remember what sex with a condom feels like.


So much so that at least half the time, I can’t finish with one on.

Still, that’s OK — I have fun anyway, I do my best so that my partner has fun as well, and I’d rather be briefly frustrated than have to figure out how the hell I’m gonna take care of a dependent for the next twenty-odd years.


It’s like giving a hug in a giant winter parka vs giving naked hugs. One is wonderful and the other….


Wearing a condom is like getting a great back rub while you are wearing a scuba diving suit.

It makes sex much more mental since the physical part is wrapped in a fucking balloon.


It sucks. Take away the warm, sticky wetness and a 10 vagina goes to a 2. Cumming with a condom on always makes me think “this is kind of what shitting your pants must feel like.”

Still got to wrap it up though. Don’t trust somebody else with not ruining your life and don’t EVER stick your dick in crazy.


If you try different kinds you may find one that actually works pretty well for you. Unfortunately until you do find the one that works you ain’t gonna feel shit. Still, there is no comparison between with and without.


It’s such a difference I would rather jerk it than have sex with a condom on…


I won’t do a long term relationship with a condom. Straight up dealbreaker status, that’s how different it feels to me.


Sex with a condom isn’t sex it’s tupperware. TC mark

12 Former Porn Addicts Describe The Pitfalls Of A Serious Online Sex Habit

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 05:00 PM PST



"Though I had periods of promiscuity throughout my twenties, my biggest issue has always been with what I do alone….There's something so sad and humiliating in imagining a person locked away in a dark room, hot laptop balanced on chest, turning the volume down low, scrolling, scrolling, choosing, watching, escaping, cumming. And then realizing that person is me."



"Within a fairly short period of time, I found myself watching up to eight hours of pornography a day, every day.…It wasn't unusual for me to be on a business trip and stay up until 3 or 4AM watching porn, knowing full well that I had an 8AM meeting the next morning where I was making a presentation to sell multi-million dollar software to corporate directors.…I was thinking seriously about walking over to the Wal-Mart not too far from where I lived, buying a gun, sticking it in my mouth and pulling the trigger. It was when I started thinking about writing a suicide note to my boys—that, thank God, is when I woke up. I decided that it wasn't the legacy I was going to leave to my kids: the father who killed himself because of an addiction to porn."



"Since age 19, I’ve been completely unable to control my use of pornography on the Internet, my compulsive masturbation, my driving need to seduce women, and in recent years my nasty habit of spending hundreds of dollars a night in strip clubs, not so much making it rain as shamefully shoveling a wad of 20s at a stripper before scuttling away….My therapist said the fact I was aroused by shit and animal porn meant I had brain damage, simple as that. His conclusion took a couple of days to sink in. Essentially, the part of my mind responsible for rational decision-making has been overridden by a huge desire for more pleasure chemicals, and I do stupid, dangerous things to get those chemicals no matter the consequences. That’s addiction."



"I am a recovering porn addict. I am also a 25-year-old woman.…I watched and masturbated to movies in the “Girlvert” and “Meatholes” series, where the obvious goal was to humiliate and degrade the women involved. The disturbing thing was that I had been performing in porn for a few years myself by then, and I knew exactly the sort of cruelty, abuse and exploitation that went on behind the scenes. Yet I still watched and got off to these horribly violent and misogynist forms of pornography."



"It was starting to take up large chunks of my time; I was lying to people about what I was doing in my spare time. I’d stay up viewing all night and go to work on an hour’s sleep; it was affecting my productivity, my health, my relationships and friendships. There were times I didn’t turn up to people’s parties or I wouldn’t go out, because I’d been viewing all day, or I’d think, I’ll just view one more thing before I leave. It’s a bit like when someone goes into a casino and they lose track of time and then they realize they’ve been in there for a day."


7. Shooting up on porn allowed me to savor female energies without all the emotions

"Like millions of other well-functioning married men with issues, I turned to pornography. For several years I wanked myself stupid. Time and space was filled with horniness beyond my wildest dreams. Time that might otherwise have been used to be creative, productive, or even just plain bored got devoured by lust. In any moment where there was a desire for some escape from life I scored some porn….I hated porn. I couldn't sniff her, worship her or probe the beauty of her being. I couldn't feel her essence bathing my wounded masculinity to wholeness….But for me, porn somehow replaced the real thing. It was just, well, easier. Neurosis-free women.…Shooting up on porn allowed me to savor female energies without all the emotions. Small men everywhere, who would rather not deal with the truth that women have for them, can go get a fill of female energy, have a beer, then get on with their day. Men, what is happening to us?"



"I would sneak downstairs to the family computer once the house was dark. As I would settle into the polyester-cotton seat of the swivel chair and open a browser, my heart would thump with a mix of thrill and shame, my ears perked for any reason to abort my mission—zip, pull and dart with an excuse ready about checking the weather for tomorrow….It was an addict's high, a high-stakes heist for sexual pleasure—an association that would not soon recede in my primal brain.…I found myself rapidly desensitized to online images. If a threesome was kinky last week, then I'd need something wilder this week. To reach climax, I had to find that same toxic mix of shame and lust….It was a dissociative, alienating, almost inhuman task to close my eyes while having sex with someone I really cared about and imagine having sex with someone else or recall a deviant video from the archives of my youth that I was ashamed of even then."



"One day I was watching pornography in my car, when I realized that I was late for my test. I closed my laptop and ran off. When I came back I found my car broken into, and my laptop gone. That evening my friend and I went to a strip club to help me feel better. My friend soon got tired and wanted to go home, but I couldn't get myself to walk away. Observing the consequences of my actions and my inability to walk away forced me to suspect that may be there was something was wrong with me after all."



"I was 15 when I started watching porn after my parents bought me a laptop. I did what pretty much any teenage boy does and look up porn websites. It became an everyday thing very quickly. I was watching porn for two hours a day….I found a website dedicated to porn addiction and I felt like I had an epiphany. I felt like I wasn’t alone any more. I did 100 days of porn abstinence and masturbation abstinence. It’s exactly like going cold turkey. The first two weeks were pretty awful with lots of mood swings. It was rough, it was really rough. There were sleepless nights. There were nights where I’d wake up in cold sweats. I’ve been able to get back to my routines and I’ve been OK but it has affected my erections. When I’m with a woman I’ve noticed it’s softer down there and I’m not as excited….I couldn’t get erections anymore with real women when I tried because I’d watched so much porn."



"I was 15 when I first masturbated to online porn. The high I got was immense, and it lasted about 30 minutes. At that point in my life I’d been feeling really low, and had been for about seven years. But, for the first time, I didn’t feel depressed at all—everything lifted. It made me want to do it again, and again—so I did, until I was watching online porn every day.…Eventually, I became desensitized to ‘vanilla’ guy-on-girl porn—it simply didn’t turn me on—so I sought out more extreme porn to shock my system into being aroused again. For the same reason, sex with real women was pretty much impossible. I didn’t link it to my porn addiction—because I didn’t know I had one. I just thought there was something inherently wrong with me, which made me feel more low.…I went cold turkey on porn. I had terrible withdrawals. My hands shook and I had awful mood swings, vivid nightmares and hot and cold sweats."



"You name a genre, and I was probably into it at some point. Things that would have disgusted me one month I relied on the next to get me excited. …The process I've described above is well-known to addiction psychologists and therapists and is called desensitization.…Excessive abuse over extended periods of time can lead to decreased libido, erectile dysfunction and impotence. In my case, the warning signs were there. I felt terrible after a session browsing the dark side of the net—a mixture of shame, disgust, dissatisfaction, depression. I realized I could bring myself literally to the brink of orgasm solely with visual stimulation—without using my hands at all. The encounters I had with women felt somehow disappointing. Sexually I felt a bit dead, occasionally I failed to maintain an erection. Desensitization is an apt word, because years of beating my meat to porn left my penis less sensitive to touch. I blamed it on condoms, on performance anxiety, on alcohol, on being out of shape, but finally, I realized the truth: porn." TC mark

16 Women Reveal Their Go-To Moves For Getting Their Boyfriend To Orgasm When They’re Ready To Wrap Things Up In Bed

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 04:00 PM PST

Shutterstock / Aleshun_Andrei
Shutterstock / Aleshun_Andrei


"If I touch his nipples it speeds things up so fast due to the extra stimulation, I have to time it carefully though because if I touch them and play too quickly after starting then I am the one wishing he lasted longer! It is like my secret panic button."




"Hi thought u might like to try a hot cup of tea or coffee, lol..take a big mouthful, hold it in your mouth for about 30 seconds until your mouth is red-hot, and slowly take his cock in your mouth…it may not work but it’s fun…lol…and guys love it…If not at least you can have a tea break…lol."




"Try tensing up ‘down there’ if you can. It creates a wave-like motion that drives many guys crazy."




"Ride on top! Works like a charm for my man :)"




"Try doggy style. I feel like most guys tend to orgasm quicker this way. I’ve gotten pregnant twice this way."




"Maybe what you need to do is have your way with him. Make him agree to submit to your desires ONE TIME. Tell him you won’t hurt him in any way. Set up a “safe word” like something he would never say…like…”butterfinger.” Then tie him up, blindfold him, and do whatever it is you please. If he says the safe word, then you stop whatever you’re doing, that instant, no questions asked…but he has to agree not to use the safe word unless it is ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY NECESSARY."




"A man’s prostate is located on the front side of the rectum. You’ll need to use plenty of lube and go slowly into the anus using just a little pressure at a time. Your other hand can be stroking his erect penis. You may want to wear a latex or vinyl glove. To give him the most pleasure reach in as far as you can and press with a bit of firmness toward the front….His anus will tighten around your finger. While he cums, keep your finger on his prostate and press into his perineum with the rest of your hand. For him the sensation will be like ecstasy."




"I once put a man on all fours and performed oral sex on him while I stimulated his g-spot at the same time. And I have yet to meet a man who does not enjoy having his g-spot hit. You don't have to perform oral sex when you go for it, but if you want to enhance his orgasm, then your best bet would be to manipulate his g-spot and his penis simultaneously."




"Simply insert a finger up the back passage and gently stroke. Works every time!"

meandering couple



"You can talk to him very dirty like telling him by saying things like, ‘YES BABY!! I want you to cum in me and fill me up and make me feel sweet’ or ‘Baby I want you to cum all over my body…’ During sex, tell him what you want in a dirty way and show him how bad you want it…It works for me every time…I hope it works for you too….Good Luck!!!! Have Fun!!!!"




"Grind against his pelvic area or have him lift one or both of your legs over his shoulders. It feels better for him because it gets tighter and it’s up in the air. I always get a better response out of him when that happens or when I squeeze my muscles."




"When my BF is having one of those nights where we’ve been at it for hours, and it seems like it just won’t end, I tell him I want him to fuck my face. I allow him to handcuff my hands behind my back and treat my mouth as my pussy. He loves it and so do I. It works every time, and I get a good night’s sleep."




"Sometimes mine takes forever….and I’ve already cum twice and get bored (and a little sore/raw) so slowly one by one, over time, I would start moaning, complimenting a move of his, or (depending on what sex we were having that day) beg/ask/demand he do something to/for me. And it worked like a charm every time."




"My suggestion is to have him think about the best sex he has EVER had and go with that and encourage him to finish. This is most likely a short-term result, but it might jump-start him to finish quicker when it starts to hurt you."




"Lick his balls, and instead of just sucking, lick his penis up and down and lick around the tip of the penis and stroke from his anus up to the base of his balls."




"Tell him his cock tastes great and is making you wet. Suck his cock as far down your throat as you can and when it’s all the way in hum a little. Drool all over his cock. The wetter, the better. Let your drool drip down the sides of his cock. A great suck should be nice and messy. Get a finger wet and play around his bum. If he moves for it then slide it in. When he does cum, make sure he knows how much you enjoy it. Kiss him with some cum still in your mouth. They all want us to be great wives but they want slutty whores in bed so let him know you are one."

stiff_nipples TC mark

100 Obscure And Archaic Sexual Slang Terms That Need To Immediately Become Popular

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 03:00 PM PST

Shutterstock / Filippova Olga
Shutterstock / Filippova Olga

1. AARDVARKING…fucking an ex-lover due to boredom or lack of other opportunities

2. ABSPRITZEN…to ejaculate (German)

3. AGONY…sexual bliss (Jamaican)

4. APPLE DUMPLIN' SHOP…boobs (archaic English)

5. ARBOR VITAE…penis (archaic English)

6. BAGPIPING…fucking a man in the armpit (19th-Century British)

7. BAWBELS…testicles (archaic English)

8. BEAR CLAW…gigantic pussy lips

9. BEARD SPLITTER…stud (archaic English)

10. BEAT DAT FACE…to fuck and/or receive oral sex (Jamaican)

11. BESCHNITTEN…circumcised (German)

12. BIT OF RASPBERRY…sexy woman (British)

13. BLANKET HORNPIPE…sexual intercourse (archaic English)

14. BLOW THE GROUNSILS…sexual intercourse (archaic English)

15. BOB TAIL…slutty woman or impotent man (archaic English)

16. BOG QUEEN…gay man who cruises public toilets for sex

17. BONE SMUGGLER…gay man

18. BRONCO…male youth who is extremely vigorous during sex

19. BUMBO…vagina (archaic black British)

20. BUSHEL BUBBY…big-breasted woman (archaic English)

21. BUTTERED BUN…having sex with a woman who has just had sex with another man gives you a "buttered bun" (archaic English)

22. CASABAS…breasts

23. CAPTAIN IS AT HOME, THE…I'm menstruating

24. CAR WASH…blowjob (Canadian)


26. CHICK-A-BIDDY…young slut (archaic English)

27. CUNNY-HAUNTED…pussy hound (archaic English)

28. COCK WAGON…a car designed to impress women

29. CLEANING UP THE KITCHEN…licking an anus before fucking it

30. CLEANING ONE'S RIFLE….male masturbation

31. CRINKUMS…gonorrhea (archaic English)

32. CULO…ass (Spanish)

33. DAISY CHAIN…three or more people simultaneously connected by oral sex

34. DEALYBOB…clitoris

35. DILLY-BOY…male prostitute (British, 1930s)

36. DOCK…to fuck

37. DOLLYMOPPER…stud (British, 1800s)

38. DOODLE SACK…vagina (archaic English)

39. DUNG-PUNCHER…gay man (Australian 1960s)

40. DUTCH BOY…a gay man who hangs out with lesbians

41. EINSTEIN…pubic hair

42. ETCH-A-SKETCH…playing with a woman's nipples

43. FLIT…gay man

44. FLYCATCHER…vagina

45. FONDLING THE FIG…female masturbation

46. FRENCHIFIED…infected with an STD (archaic English)

47. FROGSKIN…condom (1920s Australia)

48. FUSTY LUGGS…a disgusting slut (archaic English)

49. FUZZ BUMPER…lesbian

50. GLAMITY…vagina (Jamaican)


52. GRINDSMAN…stud (Jamaican)

53. GUBB…semen

54. GUNCH…to fellate

55. GWARRY…vagina (South African)

56. HASBIAN…ex-lesbian

57. HEDGE WHORE…a prostitute who will fuck you anywhere (archaic English)

58. HOUSE OF COMMONS…prostitute's vagina

59. HYMIE…anus

61. JAGS…horny (South African)

62. KAZOO…ass

63. KNISH…vagina (Yiddish)

64. LACE CURTAINS…foreskin


66. LESBRO…a male who hangs out with lesbians

67. LOOP-DE-LOOP…simultaneous mutual oral sex; 69

68. MANTHRAX…semen

69. MEAT AND POTATOES…penis and testicles

70. MR. MENTION…stud (Jamaican)

71. NARROW AT THE EQUATOR…has a tiny penis

72. NASH…vagina (Jamaican)

73. NULL THE VOID…masturbate

74. NUTMEGS…testicles

75. PEBBLES…a sexually active underaged female

76. PEPPERED…infected with STDs (archaic English)

77. PINEAPPLE…a male's package

78. PLAYING CANASTA…eyeballing the crotches of passersby

79. PROUD…horny (archaic English)

80. PUMPKIN EATER…pedophile

81. PUM-PUM…vagina (Jamaican)

82. PUNTERS…porn addicts; johns (British)

83. ROLFING THE PIGLET…male masturbation

84. SCHMECKEL…penis (Yiddish)

85. SCROGGING…fucking (archaic English)


87. SHEMPING THE HOG…male masturbation

88. SLAUGHTERHOUSE…a singles bar that reeks of desperation

89. STRAW…a woman skilled at sex; a female who's good “in the straw” (archaic English)

90. STROKE THE BLOKE…masturbate

91. TATERS…breasts

92. TOPCOAT…condom

93. TUNTI…vagina (Jamaican)

94. VAGITARIAN…lesbian

95. WAGTAIL…a slut (archaic English)


97. WESTERN PATIO…flat ass

98. WHORE PIPE…penis

99. WICKET…vagina (medieval English)

100. WINKTEPI…male butt-sex (Lakota Indian) TC mark

What It’s Like To Learn To Love Your Hair When You’ve Been Taught To Hate It

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 02:00 PM PST

via twenty20/vincentlaflame
via twenty20/vincentlaflame

I love my hair. I hate my hair.
I love my hair. I hate my hair.
I love my hair. I hate my hair.

I tell myself this on a regular basis. And it's always like this. Affection and disgust. One after another. Day in and day out.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

When I was younger my mother would braid my hair, not like two little French braids like most kids get, instead my mom would create a masterpiece out of my hair. The braids would take on their own path: sometimes it was a labyrinth or braids and other times it was a diagonal maze, crisscrossing from left to right. When my hair wasn't braided it was pressed. Getting my hair pressed was a weekly ritual. My little sister and I would go to our grandmother's with freshly washed hair. She would sit one of us down in the kitchen, while a gold plated comb burned against the stovetop. She would then use this comb on our hair to make it straight and pretty. Sometimes she got to close to our scalp and sometimes we didn't hold our ear down enough and we would get burned. We were never supposed to jump or move an inch after this happened. If we did we would just get burned that much more. Being burned by a overheated metal instrument is not something anyone should experience but something that happened to me on a weekly basis. I've never been able to explain the feeling of burning skin. But the smell would sicken me. Everything about it smelled wrong. The skin would sizzle and then curl up leaving a black or brown scab. It was like getting branded. And the smell would be a combination of pain and beauty: because even if my grandmother burned us, we still had to continue on. Beauty is pain. It always has been and it always will be.

My sisters and I were never allowed to just wear our hair natural. We were told that it was ugly or nappy or just unappealing. But I can't just blame it on them. They weren't the only cause. Having little white boys and girls poke and pull at my hair when it was curly was humiliating and painful. So by the time we were old enough, we were given perms or relaxers. A perm is a white chemical mixture that basically burns your hair into straightness or curliness depending on your natural hair, it's also know in the black community as creamy crack. I hated getting perms. The beautician or my mother would cover our heads with this white mixture and we had to leave it on for twenty minutes or longer (for me I would normally have to do forty-five minutes.) While sitting there we could feel our scalp dying. We would smell the burning skin, hair, and the rancid smell of rotten eggs while trying to keep our tears in. Then someone would wash our hair and we would cry and cry as the hot water sealed the burns. These burns were little scabs that covered our scalp. Just the thought of combing or brushing our hair made us cringe. But that's what we had to do every six weeks (or four weeks for me and my disgustingly thick hair, because thick hair was the hardest to perm.) The first time I experienced the creamy crack, I was starting middle school and my hair burned off and I was left with less than three inches of my original hair growth. Think pixie cut gone wrong. I cried and cried and my mother and father just told me it looked pretty because it was finally straight. Because having curly hair is a sin for a black girl in America.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

Around that time, my older sister Vickie told us she was getting dreads. My mother spent hours telling my two other sisters and I how disgusting and ugly her dreads were. Vickie had to deal with the ridicule for years. And we just joined in. Sometimes it was my mom, sometimes it was all of us, and sometimes it was just the comments people said about dreadlocks in general. We told her they were nasty and unclean. And we believed it. Even though we watched her wash her hair more often than us. Even though she re-twisted them on a regular basis. Even though her hair looked longer and healthy than ours. Even though we knew it was beautiful and not ugly we believed it was. Because who would have taught us anything different? Every beautiful black woman had straight hair. Right? So while she kept her dreads we silently suffered through the peeling skin of our scalps and the burning of hair. The branding those European standards had given us. And we acted like we didn't mind it because our hair was finally straight and pretty. As if being straight was the only way for it to be pretty.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

Throughout my junior and senior year of high school, I curled my hair almost every day. To be perfectly honest I think I just got tired of straightening my hair every morning because it took too long. If I curled my hair then it would be like that for a week or two before I would have to redo it. But eventually, I actually loved my curls. They were tight and bouncy and everyone told me they looked beautiful. Everyone except my mother and father, they questioned why I didn't just keep my hair straight. Because in curling my hair so often, I would avoid perms for months. I would just keep washing my hair and curling it until my mother would force me to put the devilish cream on my head. Every time I would try to wait it out longer and longer and every time it just made the perm burn so much worse. I went from having one or two scabs to being covered in them. But my mother would tell me it's fine because it finally looks pretty.

Around this same time my older sister decided to chop off her dreads. She went from having hair practically down her back to having an Afro. I hated it. I'm not sure if it was because I was jealous that I couldn't just wake up and have my hair look good or because I was conditioned to think of it as nappy and unappealing. In reality, her hair was beautiful. My hair had never looked so healthy and soft. Vickie would let me play with her hair and feel the softness but I had to deny liking it in front of my mother. Black girls aren't supposed to like their natural hair. They are supposed to be disgusted by it. Society told us it was ugly. Whites told us it was ugly. My family told us it was ugly. But Vickie's hair was beautiful. She looked like her real self. I had never felt so jealous of her. At first I couldn't explain why I was so jealous. I didn't consciously admit her hair was beautiful. I had internalized the self-hatred of my hair too much. It wasn't until I was older that I was able to see that she was able to be herself and be naturally her and I was stuck putting on the creamy crack and crying when I touched my head.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

My mother told me that if I didn't start doing my hair (straightening it and perming it) that I might as well go natural. So I did. It was hard. It is hard. I spent hours watching YouTube videos, researching my hair and how it works, finding the right products, and crying because my mom told me that my hair would be ugly.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

When my mother was a child she had beautiful blonde/brown hair that wasn't necessarily an afro but it looked curly and soft. I loved looking at her pictures and how her hair was so pretty. Yet, my mom told me her hair was disgusting. Because the world told her it was. She was ashamed of her hair, so she made us be ashamed too. She said that her hair was something to be ashamed of until she got a perm. So we thought she was right. She's our mom. Why wouldn't we believe her?

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

Surprisingly, my father was the worst when it came to our hair. Almost every time I came home my first year of college, my father begged me to get a perm even though I decided to never get one again. I was constantly told that my hair was ugly. That it was too wild. That every part of it was repulsive. He would pretend to run his fingers through my hair and then pull his hand away yelling about how he thought his hand was going to be stuck there forever. Even my brother-in-law would make comments. Not necessarily towards me but towards my sister and her beautiful natural hair. He would tell her that her hair looked prettiest when she straightened it and would get upset when it was curly. The black men in my life hated my hair and hated how it looked even though we shared the same hair. Their hair was okay, but our hair wasn't. I hated how much they hated it. If black men couldn't find my hair beautiful how could anyone else? The first time a white man told me my hair was beautiful I didn't believe him.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

My parents only tell me my hair was okay. Every once in a while I would get a small comment about how it looked cute. But it isn't often. I'm not mad at them though. They just learned from their parents who learned from their parents who learned from their parents who learned from European slave owners. Can I really fault my parents for the overarching view of beauty by European standards? They try. And that's all I can really ask for.

I love my hair. I hate my hair.

Transitioning is hard. That's the process of going natural. But it's not just the process of getting one's hair to look like it was meant to. It was a process of learning to accept one's natural self. It's the process of unlearning everything the world taught me about beauty for a black woman. While my sister had years to really grow into herself, away from home and my parents, I didn't get that opportunity. My mother begged me to get a perm on a daily basis. My father told me I looked crazy and wild. I had to transition from hating my hair into loving it and myself. I have had have had to convince myself that my hair isn't wasn't isn't wasn't a sin. But I pushed through. Every day I try to ignore the self-hatred my parents (and majority of society) had conditioned me to listen to. While my parents sometimes tell us our hair was ugly, I tell my sisters how much I loved their hair, regardless on if it was long/short or curly/straight. Sometimes they don't believe me. Sometimes they go through my monologue. But sometimes, they only stick with the first half: I love my hair. TC mark

Why Living For The Moment Could Ruin Your Whole Life

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 01:00 PM PST

Twenty 20 / kirstylee152
Twenty20 / kirstylee152

One of billionaire Peter Thiel's secrets to success is asking himself the contrarian question: What important truth do very few people agree with you on?

In similar fashion, but nearly a century earlier, Mark Twain said, "Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."

When you hear or read something — even this very article — it's good practice to consider the opposite of what is being said. In many — even most — cases, you'll be safer zigging while the masses zag.

The Sexiest Lie Of 2015

Most lifestyle "gurus" have sold us on the idea of living for the moment — that right now is all that exists — and that we should only do that which makes us feel good. Although this advice is alluring and justifying, it often fails to produce desirable results in the real world. Actually, in many cases, it ruins people's lives.

Living for the moment is the reason people leave marriages, lose control over their health, and why America is trillions of dollars in debt. Instead of living for the moment, it is better to live for the past — as you'd prefer to remember that moment, and your life in general. Indeed, time is fleeting. The present moment barely exists. The moment you become conscious of it, it's over.

If you find yourself defending your past, this article is probably for you. Although our distant past may not be pretty, our recent past is a clear indicator of our present circumstances.

How have your last 2 years been?

How have your last 2 months been?

How have your last 2 days been?

Today is tomorrow's yesterday. Are you living today to give your tomorrow-self something to build off? Will you have momentum tomorrow based on your choices today? Or are you just putting off needed change until some future day?

Living for the past is really living in the present. It's realizing that — as a forward thinking person — you're living in the past right now. What you do right now determines the future you hope to create.

Here's why:

Living For The Past Informs How You Live In The Present

When you live solely for the moment, you act on impulse. Your behavior is the product of circumstance rather than conscious choice. As a result, you often make regretful decisions.

You'll choose to fight for what you believe in. You'll choose to do hard things because they are the right thing to do.

Conversely, when you live for the past — for your memories — you consider how you want to remember the experience you're having. As a result, you live intentionally in the present. As strange as it may sound, our memories of our experiences are more important than the experiences themselves. For instance, as I write this, I am currently on a family vacation at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. It's amazing to watch our three foster kids excitedly meet all the fun characters and ride the rides.

But do these moments last forever? Before we all know it, the day is over. The vacation is over. The year is over. Our kids are grown. But we have pictures and memories of these moments that last a life-time and forge our relationships. And these memories are actually the reason we have experiences in the first place.

How do you want to look back on today?

How do you want to look back on this year?

How do you want to look back on your entire life?

These questions are better at informing your present decisions than acting based on impulse, circumstance, or your current emotional state.

In a very real way, our lives are the story we ourselves are writing. The present moment is simply the pen on the pad, leaving an inky trail. And one thing is for certain, you can't stop the pen from writing. So why not consciously decide the story you want to be written?

It's baffling how often we make choices without considering how they will be remembered. We often act as if the past doesn't exist at all. All the while, our memories are the very fabric of our identity.

How You Feel About Your Past Determines Your Confidence In The Present

If you've had an incredible morning, you'll likely continue succeeding the rest of the day. Conversely, if you hit the snooze button a dozen times, and wastefully drag through your morning, you'll likely justify mediocrity the rest of the day.

How we feel about our past in large measure determines our confidence in the present moment. Thus, living every moment in a way you're proud of cyclically improves your confidence to continue succeeding in the future.Humans are momentum-based beings.

Living For The Past Allows You To Design Your Ideal Future

One of Stephen R. Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People is to begin with the end clearly in mind. In order to do so, Covey invites you to consider your 80th birthday party. The purpose of the party is for your loved ones to honor you, to express their feelings, and to toast a life well-spent.

Imagine you are the person being honored. What would you like your loved ones to say about you, and your life? What would you like them to say about your character and contributions? What achievements would you want them to remember? What impact would you have liked to make in their lives?

Covey argues we should start living today with that vision of our own 80th birthday party clearly in mind. Thus, even when considering the end of our lives, it is framed by how we will remember — how we will look back on — our lives. Indeed, living purely for the moment fails to comprehend the holistic nature of time. The past, present, and future are not distinct and separate entities. When you live for your past, you consciously design your ideal future and simultaneously live intentionally in the present. You fail at one and all are impacted — each are mutually dependent.

You can have any future you want. More importantly, you can have any past you want. And your past is what dictates your present. You can be a person you're proud to be.

Living For The Past Empowers You To Make Harder And Better Choices

It's so easy to justify poor decisions in the moment. It's easy to break our personal commitments. Sometimes we can't control our anger and we yell at our kids. Sometimes the cookies look too good and we just can't say no.Sometimes we'd rather veg than work toward our goals. Sometimes we'd rather sleep-in than go to the gym.

If we do this long enough, our whole life — our past — will not be what we intended it to be. As J.M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan, has said, "The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it."

However, when you live for your past, you will consistently make better, often harder, decisions. You'll choose to be happy even if you don't feel like it. You'll choose to get up rather than sleep-in. You'll choose to work while others play.

You'll choose to save rather than spend. You'll choose to stick-it-out rather than quit, over and over again. You'll choose to fight for what you believe in. You'll choose to do hard things because they are the right thing to do.

You'll choose the road less traveled. And yes, it will make all the difference. TC mark

18 Signs You’re An Apple That Fell Pretty Far From The Tree

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 12:00 PM PST

VSCO Cam-1-2

1. Your family members attempt to feign enthusiasm over your job/interest/hobbies. In reality, there's a rather unspoken agreement that nobody understands why you enjoy what you enjoy.

2. You've been involved in several discussions and informal interventions to try to "fix" you.

3. You're immune to comments such as "why can't you be more like _______?" Playing the role of the family's token black sheep requires you to have thick skin and a self-love attitude.

4. You've grown to love being different from the rest of your family. Sometimes you'll just find a way to have opposing opinions from everyone else just to further establish how different you are.

5. But sometimes you feel like an outsider. It makes coming home for holidays somewhat of a drag because you have to reconfigure your place in the household hierarchy again.

6. When you visit home, you tend to feel like you're back in high school because of how much you seem to be pissing everyone off with your incongruent opinions and behavior.

7. You feel like the rebel child, minus the leather jacket.

8. If you're both the oldest child and the black sheep, your parents are openly relieved at how easy parenting is for your younger siblings.

9. Your parents use you as the cautionary tale.

10. You're very weary and bitter about how much your siblings get away with things you were never ever, ever, ever allowed to do. Their curfews are later, their chores are less enforced, they get to use the car more—*side eye.*

11. As a result, you’re aggressively independent. You don't hold back on pursuing activities or careers that you are interested in, despite the fact that your parents may not be accepting of them.

12. You hate asking for help when you're struggling––especially from your family. You would love it if everything worked out flawlessly and you could show off how effortless and carefree it is to follow your own dreams rather than your parents', but alas, that is almost never the case.

13. You are the center of every argument and bad mood your parents' may be experiencing. Even if you're not under the same roof as them, sometimes you'll get texts from your siblings asking "What did you do? Dad is pissed."

14. You crossed state lines (or even went across the country) to go to college.

15. And once you left home, you completely deviated from the person you were raised to be.

16. Anytime you return from the sanctity of long distance and come back home, you're forced to answer a bajillion questions about your personal life.

17. None of your friends have met your family members.

18. It never fails to baffle you when you talk to people who say they never fight with their family. Meanwhile, you're 21 and got into a physical altercation with your teenage sister when you were home for four days over Thanksgiving break. TC mark

Everything Wrong With America In One Image

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 11:11 AM PST

As of today, Thursday, December 3rd, there have been at least 352 mass shootings in America. There are only 365 days in a year and just a few more days left in 2015. I don’t understand why every time we have a mass shooting in this country, nearly once a day, politicians, TV presenters and gun enthusiasts send out “prayers” to the families of the victims. We don’t need anymore goddamn prayers. Will you ask for prayers when your friends or family are next?

Though I’m not religious I do believe in God, in something, but I was always taught that prayer is only the first step. Pray on it, sure, but you also have to help yourself, too. Praying without taking measured action is so lazy, a bandaid, and it doesn’t directly address the source of the problem.

    New York Daily News
    New York Daily News

Today the New York Daily News, known for its sensational headlines and love of puns, dropped a ballsy headline that actually addresses the real issue about gun control. The cover publishes the Twitter feeds of Republican politicians Paul Ryan, Ted Cruz, Rand Paul, and Lindsey Graham, who all asked for “prayers” in the wake of the San Bernardino shooting. “God Isn’t Fixing This,” the headline screams, putting Republican politicians who continuously block gun control legistalation on blast. Paul Ryan, et al., consider your wig completely and utterly snatched.

Read: God Isn’t Fixing This

In April 2015 I spent a week at Southern Illinois University Carbondale and was floored to see signage on the doors to buildings prohibiting guns on campus. I’d never seen anything like it. You need a sign to tell you not to bring guns on campus? This August 2016 Texas will launch it’s new “Campus Carry” law which will allow individuals who have a concealed handgun license to carry their weapons on campus.

The (idiotic) main idea behind the law is that more guns on campus will mean fewer campus shootings because somewhere there will be someone who can take down an active shooter. Okay, fine. Having a license to shoot is one thing, but it’s an entirely different matter to shoot when under the stress and anxiety of a terrorist attack. Does the new law take this into account?

This Republican-driven law will be optional for private colleges and universities, with Rice, Texas Christian, and Southern Methodist immediately opting out of the law out of concerns over safety. Daniel Hamermesh, a professor emeritus of Economics at UT Austin, has withdrawn from the University over the law and wrote an open letter to the University president explaining that the policy will make it even more difficult to attract top rate faculty.

Why on earth does anyone need to carry a gun on a college campus, in a dorm, in a lecture hall? Recently the American Studies Association, along with 28 other learned societies, has condemned Campus Carry legislation over the very real threat of danger it poses to students, faculty and staff in the campus community.

Praying without taking measured action is so lazy, a bandaid, and it doesn’t directly address the source of the problem.

I can’t speak for everyone, obviously, but as a visibly black, queer and frequently gender non-conforming male I would feel completely unsafe on a college campus, or in a college town, where I knew it was legal for people to carry weapons. Would I get shot if I held my boyfriend’s hand or kissed him between classes? Would shots be fired at a Black Lives Matter protest? Not only would I feel like a moving target — imagine what could happen at a queer demonstration or kiss-in, or any sort of liberal campus protest — but I would be terrified to go college in a space where it’s now legal for the straight white male next to me in seminar to be a terrorist with a gun. TC mark

Coming To Terms With Being A Serial Monogamist

Posted: 03 Dec 2015 11:00 AM PST

Twenty20 / zolusiowo
Twenty20 / zolusiowo

Serial Monogamist (noun): One who spends as little time as possible being single, moving from the end of one relationship to the beginning of a new relationship as quickly as possible.

Thanks to this concise definition by Urban Dictionary, I have instantly been transported back in time to my teenage years. In retrospect, it’s strange that I wasn’t aware of how much time my friends and colleagues spent being single. I honestly wish someone would have taken me aside and pointed this out to me.

Maybe that’s what this article can do for you. I haven’t broken it down to a science, so all I have are my personal experiences. But maybe there’s something you can identify with.

At the time, I was partly shooting from one relationship to the other because I was obsessed with this notion of Love. Thanks to 90s sitcoms and romantic ballads, I had fallen in love with that ideal of love. Unfortunately, that ideal only exists in the span of the first several weeks, or months of a relationship. The elusive “Honeymoon period,” or as my buddy AJ describes it, “The Cupcake Phase.”

Looking back, I think one of the most embarrassing outcomes of being a serial monogamist, was that I found myself looking for second-string replacements anytime my relationship became frustrated. Once that ideal, cupcake phase starts to rupture, you lift your head up and start looking around. Maybe the next girl/guy around the corner can have a perfect relationship with you. And you get the ball rolling even before the previous one is over.

It was almost like I could not even move on from the current failing relationship I was in, unless there was another’s arms that I could fall into. As a result, people around school started thinking that I was some kind of wannabe player. Like I was trying to see how many girls I could get with, but I barely slept with any of them (mostly because I had an irrational fear of AIDS because those bastards scared us senseless as kids in the 90s).

Another outcome of this tendency towards serial monogamy was that I found myself in a lot of on-again-off-again type relationships. It was always one of those situations where things weren’t working out great so we called it off. But days, weeks or months would pass and somehow I would convince myself that I had made a mistake. Rinse and repeat. It wasn’t ever going to get better after breaking up, I was just afraid of being alone.

The final tell of serial monogamy was that zero-to-sixty acceleration from being acquaintances, to being “in love.” Somehow I would fall deeply, passionately in love with a girl in embarrassingly small spaces of time. I would convince myself that this was the one within days.

Finally, one day I met a girl who was as much of a miserable serial monogamist as I was. I didn’t know it at the time, but all of the typical tells and patters were becoming clearer to me because I was seeing in her everything that I had done:

She had mirrored my irrationally fast inclination to be “in love.”

She had a string of ex-boyfriends who she could summon at the drop of a hat to take my place.

She broke up with me and regretted it, and got back together with me only to break up again.

This unhealthy cycle went on until finally one day I couldn’t take it anymore. I had never been on the receiving end of this negative tendency until now. And it hurt to know that I wasn’t someone who she actually cared deeply about, but was rather a blip on the screen of something much bigger than me in her eyes. Like a stepping stone in an endless staircase.

After that things got kind of weird for me and I stopped dating for a year or two, just spending time on myself and developing some hobbies that I let fall to the wayside while making room for ‘All of the Love!’

After that I met a great girl whom I am still with. I don’t think we would be in such a great relationship if I had never realized the problem I had with serial monogamy. If you’re in this boat, then wake up and take a step back from relationships for a while. It will be hard, but it’s the only way to grow. TC mark