Quotable Pooh

Another reason why Pooh is the best



Pretty brown eyes

I’m trying to remember the first time someone ever told my I had pretty eyes (the person then later played this song for me). I think it was maybe my sophomore or junior year in high school. After I spent almost my entire freshmen year, proving to a  guy (who happened to like my older sister, and for some reason thought arguing with me was gonna help his cause… eventually it did) who thought I was lying and faking my eye color. Nope. My eyes I get from my daddy’s side of the family. They are all mine, and yes they are a brown-green kinda hazel color.

What brought up this memory… well, I was on a date recently and he mentioned that he liked my eyes and thought they were pretty. I hadn’t heard that in a little while. Thanks.


I wonder about young women sometimes. Not that I’m old (I certainly don’t look old, if I can say), but WTF. Do they really not know that it’s not the best of ideas to walk into a corporate office wearing a skirt so short that it shows off their baby passage, and maybe just maybe that shirt you wore to the club on Saturday night that has a deep-V down to your belly button, might not be the most appropriate thing to wear to the office either.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not a prude and I’m not body shaming, just asking that I not be subjected to seeing someone else’s baby passage while at work.



Out of my messages

Oh yasss lawd - squirrel

I have to start with a rewind. I took a trip a few months ago, to visit with some friends, but mainly for a speaking engagement. During this outing, I had the chance (or maybe misfortune) to sit next to a man, a man I did not know. During my entire 50 hour stay on this trip, I said maybe all of 10 words to him. The night before I left to return home, he sends me a friend request on Facebook (and that’s how you know sh*ts about to go wrong), and I accept. Hey, it’s no  big deal we know lots of people in common, what could possibly go wrong? I turn down his Facebook message to attend a closing party at his house that most in our group were attending – which might have been a wise decision.

I returned home and almost from the day I accepted his friend request, he sends me messages, long messages, really long messages and wants to converse. I mildly oblige. He seems nice, and even funny at times. Yet, he isn’t my type. And when I say he isn’t my type, let me list a few reasons:

1. He’s short.
2. He’s umm a little, umm what’s the word – portly
3. He doesn’t make me wanna jump his bones
4. He’s been married twice… Yes, I said twice and the last time lasted not quite 2 years or something
5. He has 4/5 or maybe 6 kids.. I really don’t know.
6. I think he might be a conservative… that alone would make me suffocate him in his sleep or just stab him
7. His voice bothers me
8. His style, that he thinks he has is not good, at least to me
9. He’s corny – even for me
10. He lives in another state – that has like 10 black people (and I need diversity, and good food)
11. If we got into a fight with folks on the street, I feel like I’d be the tough guy between us
12. He listens to Justin Bieber (again this alone is a no)

Anyway, fast forward to Christmas, and he is still texting me on the daily and calling (I never answer). I seldom respond. He seems nice and harmless, but his texts are getting a little crazy. I don’t really know you dude and you probably shouldn’t be telling me that I’m the woman of your dreams after a few weeks of texting and saying that I brought life and purpose into your life – I don’t respond to you, and I don’t show interest, so I’m probably not the love of your life you’ve been waiting for.

Fast fast forward, past some unwanted gifts, and past more ignoring of phone calls and texts, he sends me an email that he doesn’t think this is working out. D’uh! There is no this, so stop calling and texting, and yaaasss he’s out of my texts, messages and life.

Thank you for finally catching on.

All in a dream

It was near 1am, and I was tired. So tired that I peeled myself off the couch after dozing off earlier, turned off the lights in the living room and went upstairs to bed. As I entered my room, I thought to myself, I can’t be this lazy my hair is too cute to sleep with it out so I took the time to wrap it. After the amazingly long 2 minutes it took to wrap my hair, I finally made my way to my room. I’m not sure why I was so tired, but I was. I stood there and as I was getting out of my clothes I thought to myself, you know what, I’m sleeping in my panties and not putting anything else on. And so I climbed into bed, with my hair carefully wrapped with nothing but my panties on.

The blanket I laid under felt so good. I think I feel asleep within 45 seconds.

Sometime during the night, I started dreaming. Most nights I don’t remember my dreams, but last night I saw this dream very vividly. Depending on your point of view, here’s where things either go so wrong or so very right.

I remember laying in bed and suddenly there were other people, yes people in the plural sense, in the bed with me and my panties. At this point, I have to note that we were laying in bed head to feet (as illustrated below), with the exception of one person who was laying directly behind me.

Style: "A"
How the “people” were laying

As I realized there was another person directly behind me, all of the other people seemed to disappear, or maybe I just didn’t care that they were there. I knew the person behind me. He was familiar. He was comforting, and he was there – with me. I could feel his breath gently on the back of my neck. I could feel myself starting to smile, I think I was physically smiling in real life as I was dreaming. I didn’t want to disturb this moment but I wanted to make sure that he was there. So I reached behind me to feel him, and I did indeed feel him.

I had accidentally reached behind me and felt his, umm, yeah his penis and it was glorious. For some reason, I started to massage his penis and felt it go hard in my hand.

It was at that point that I woke up… and the dream was gone, although the memories of laying next to someone familiar and comforting remained.

Either I’ve had some really great, ahem, sessions in the past or the 300 and some odd days of not having sex are starting to get to me.