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Posts Tagged ‘divorce’

Young Lady with Henna.  This young lady’s brother was married and her hand was designed with henna. It’s customary for the bride to have this after marriage too. Copyright 2012 Totsymae.

Recently, I heard an interesting story about this Sudanese couple’s marriage. Just so you know, they’re Muslim too and speak Arabic. Two of the Arabic women have been here two years and there’s one who’s also a U.S. citizen now, though she’s very much Muslim. Understand, too, it’s not typical for Muslim women folk to marry nonMuslims. It’s, however, more acceptable for a nonMuslim woman to marry a Muslim man ’cause it’s believed he’ll influence her to convert to his faith, him being the man and all.

Now, the one Sudanese woman who’s also American is divorced. She was married to a  Sudanese Muslim. The interesting part about these marriages is they’re somewhat arranged. Same goes for Saudis too. The mother of the Saudi family will get to looking at her son and see that he’s ready for him a woman. She gets to scoping out young women folk from families she knows. It may even be a cousin she picks down the line somewhere. I don’t know how their babies turn out, so don’t ask, okay? I do know that when a young lady’s got something not considered normal with her, it’s kept on the hush ’cause it’s hard to get her married off. Though, back to the Sudanese marriage story.

Well, this Sudanese young lady was telling me why her friend divorced. Poor man had so much working against him. The friend didn’t like that her husband dipped his biscuit in his tea. That wet bread floating around in his tea, which is nasty to me  too, was a worriation to her. He also slurped when he drank hot liquids. Another strike he had against him was when they had guests, he’d eat most of the food. However, the absolute worst part of the union was when they had “relations,” he’d hop outta bed right in the middle of “it” and run to the bathroom. Don’t ask me what took place in that bathroom, okay? I didn’t wanna know, so I didn’t ask.

The same young lady who related this story was telling me how this prospect she’s looking at is “wanting” her real bad. I told her he was horny, which I had to explain the meaning. He’s 30 and virginal. They both are but his jones is down on him real hard. Just to hear her on the phone makes him wanna do it. She ain’t with that, okay? She wants somebody who can talk to her, make her laugh and all that good stuff. She’s like, “Totsy, what should I do?” in this little squealy voice.  I gave her my thoughts but in the end, I told her it looks no easier for Muslim folk than it does for us nonMuslims.

It’s either drinking the milk before buying the cow or getting buttermilk down the road. What do you think?

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"Portrait of Harmony" Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2012 Totsymae

Despite the bitter ending of her third marriage, she cared. Yet, so full up to her neck with anger over this last year with Richard, the fart that pushed out of her ass sounded like a slamming door.

Richard finished off his meal of oats and juice she’d prepared, grabbed the fly swatter and rushed his ass to the living room. So ready, he was, to take his bitching to the streets for spectators’ pleasure.

“Goddamn! You, shitter woman!”

Her deaf ear toward him and immune to her own rottenness, she turned with a smile. “Did you take your vitamins?”

© 2012 Totsymae

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"Flirt" Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2012 Totsymae

“Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.”

Voltaire

Dear Denny,

See, I feel like I can address you as such since I’ve been pining over you since A Soldier’s Story. I know, I resoluted to not do that this year, being that you’re STILL married and don’t seem to be going nowhere. What’s wrong with you? Everybody else in Hollywood’s “going” elsewhere. Not that I would’ve respected or wanted you all that much if you’d done something like what Kim Kardashian did to Chris but…Shit, I would’ve gotten over it after I saw Training Day, actually but since it never happened…

Speaking of going places, why you never swung by the house when you went to visit your son at Morehouse College? I know you didn’t know where I lived, let alone that I even existed, but I was expecting you to utilize telepathy or whatever you do to get in character the way you did in Hurricane and swing my way. I don’t understand. After so many years since seeing A Soldier’s Story, my patience is wearing real thin, Denny. Since you haven’t managed to find a psychic out there in Hollywood (’cause I know you can afford the best) who can put a finger on my address through her crystal ball, I’m gonna make my way out there come this time next week so I can see if you’re really serious about staying with Priscilla or whatever her name is. I mean, I know sometimes folk don’t always match up right even after 20-some odd years but know that you can be straight up about the direction I want us to go in, face-to-kissy-face. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this, Boo. Alright?

Now, just so you know, I don’t stalk anybody. You are my first. Please, don’t have one of those type fences that’ll electrocute me like the one Herman Cain was boasting about to zillions of folk across the globe and had everybody’s eyebrow raised high at his ass. I’d hope you wouldn’t be so cruel underneath all that sexiness. Besides, electric wouldn’t look good on me. Though chances are, with me being 5’4″ and all, I may get stuck somewhere around the top part of the gate, where those steel bars stick out real sharp-like, which, at that point, I’m gonna need you to buzz a sistah in real quick, okay?

Love,

Me (Use your powers, damn!)

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"To the Market" Acrylic on Paper. Copyright 2012 Totsymae

I was reading a blog post that Michael Jordan’s gonna be tying up a knot with his lady friend and I’m real glad I came across that. Now, the article suggested a prenup to Michael, if he had to go this kinda distance with her. Being that Ex-Wife made off pretty good, I suppose Michael would wanna keep whatever he’s got coming in to himself, should things go haywire. I suspect him to be a sharp man since he ain’t broke like a lot of athletes that end up with overdraft fees on their checking accounts.

From where I’m sitting, it can be a real awkward moment should, say, I was marrying up with some rich man and he handed me the pen to sign some papers that say I can’t have none of his shit no more should we part ways. Even more awkward should I try to negotiate, “Well, can I at least have the Porsche and the paid-out beach-front property and…?” It’s strange, ain’t it? I guess folk who date folk like that expect a prenup to be part of the package.

Then I got to thinking about my own shit. You know, this fella I dated from way back, maybe a couple of years or so after my own marriage went further south, been trying to pop his head back in mine but I ain’t stuttin’ him, y’all. I mean, he’s a right nice fella but that’s about all I can say on that. Don’t go thinking I’m being mean-hearted on account of me blogging about not wanting him. I can say what I want and don’t want on my blog, can’t I? After all, I did attach niceness to his personality and I can also say he’s a good conversationalist but.

Let me put it to you this way, folks. I’m getting sorted over here to fly out and I ain’t trying to make no deals like if-you-get-back-and-you-ain’t-married-and-I-ain’t-married-we-gonna-get-married. Can’t remember the last time I even saw him and he’s coming at me with some lazy ass deal over the phone. What kinda shit is that? That’s like telling me if we ain’t found who we really want, we gonna settle for each other. Maybe it’s just me though ’cause I think very thoroughly about matters most of the time and I don’t think myself to be a stupid person. I mean, I’ve done some stupid shit from time to time but believe you me, folks, I try to put a period on that. Okay? I ain’t trying to trip on no I dos with him. Shiiiiit. I ain’t that hard up.

Plus, I have to consider what I need to protect on my end over here. Hell, talking about Michael needing a prenup, I got my own ass and sets of things I need to scribble down on a piece of paper too. I’ve got a good running washer and dryer. All these books gotta be worth something with the buy-back program on Amazon. I ain’t even mentioned the ceiling fans that’ll blow the devil himself up outta  here to yonder, as though God Himself was on his heels.  I ain’t playin’. And I’ve got a spinning spice rack. I don’t need nobody trying to make off with my shit. Hell. He better take that deal to the next contestant ’cause he had to be puffing on some good ass weed when he fixed his mouth to say that to me.

Hmph…Got me on this blog talking to y’all about dumb shit.

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