Is the Barack the next President of the USA?

In a few days, Americans will go to the polls to elect a new president.  All the indicators point to a victory for Barack Obama.  He is ahead on every predictive index.  Barack has raised millions more than his rival; he has outspent him by as much as two to one; Barack is leading in all the major national polls; he is also out front in the projected electoral votes. All things being equal, on November 05, 2008, Americans will wake up to realize that they have just elected an African American, a black man to be the leader of the most powerful nation on earth.

The next president of the USA?

But, can we count on the the polls, the pundits and the predictions?  Is America ready for a black man, a black woman, a black family in charge of the White House?  Like millions around the world I await with bated breath.

Happy Independence to all Vincentians!

The people of St. Vincent and the Grenadines celebrate 29 years as a sovereign state on October 27, 2008.  These islands were under British rule since 1763.  After undergoing several forms of constitutional arrangements the country was finally granted full independence on October 27, 1979.  On that day we lowered the Union Jack, the old colonial flag, and hoisted our very own.

The First Indpendence flag, emlazoned with a breadfruit leaf in the centre on which the coat of arms was superimposed, soon gave way to the “Three Diamond Flag.  This change of flag did stir up some controversy.  I guess the thought then was that with independence, we are free to do as we choose, even change our flag from time to time.

The First Independence Flag

Since then, we have come a long way.  Indeed, the 29th year of our independence has met us grappling with several critical challenges.  Some may say that these are our worse days yet.  However, like true Caribbean people, I think that we will adapt and thrive in these extant challenging circumstances. We must!

I take this opportunity to wish the Government and People of St. Vincent and the Grenadines a happy 29th Independence Anniversary.  May we continue on a path to peace, progress and prosperity.

Vote in My Poll

Before you go, you may wish to participate in this poll.

My Last Condom

I almost bought some condoms last Saturday!  But then, reality hit me in the face like a wet towel.  Here is the true story

My Last Condom

The other day I went to a drugstore to purchase some multivitamins and a few other things.  When I approached the cashier to pay for the items, my attention was drawn to several boxes of condoms, Rough Riders to be exact, on display. They were attractively laid out on the counter.  For some strange reason, I almost said to the cashier, “Pass me a few packs of condoms please.” It seemed like the natural thing to do.  I soon realized, and quickly so, that I was about to make a fool of myself.  What on earth am I going to do with condoms?

It was then that I started to reflect on the very last condom that I ever had. It was several years ago, long before my pussy drought set in. I was handed a pack of condoms by one of my several brothers.  I could remember taking one and placing it deep into my wallet, just in case.  That condom stayed in my wallet for years!  I did not even remember that I had it.  It wasn’t until I bought a new wallet to replace the one that was now too old and worn out that it reappeared.  Upon emptying the contents, I came across the lonely condom.

It looked disgusting.  The wrapping had deteriorated; there were holes all over; the condom itself was exposed; some form of deterioration had set in.  I also noticed that “the-use-before-date” had long gone!  I soon realized that even if I had an opportunity to make use of this device, it would be no good under any circumstances whatsoever!

I simply had to get rid of that condom.  Since that time I have not carried around another condom in my pocket; I have not even used a condom; Indeed ladies and gentlemen, I have not had the opportunity to protect myself from some good pussy!

So, it was with a bit of intense nostalgia that I surveyed the beautiful packs of Rough Rider condoms on display.  I felt a tinge of sadness knowing that it would be a very long time, if at all, before I could go to a drug store and say, “Pass me a pack of Rough Riders please”.  Clearly, I have made use of my last condom. Or, have I?

Too Many F…ing Women in My Life!

I have serious problems with women!

Over the years of my existence too many of them have come to dominate my life and the consequences have been disastrous.  My earliest recollections of encounters with the female kind have been frightening.  As I grew up I have had to deal with an abusive mother;  a violent aunty; a deceitful and wicked stepmother; and more recently an adulterous wife!  As I write this, I am trying to come to grips with a loud, aggressive, and opinionated female boss.

I have also enountered numerous females, all appearing like angels but who turned out to be nothing but horny, mercenery, conniving and manipulative bitches.  They sucked everything out of me and left me high and dry. And, to make matters worse, I have been made to work with a number female bosses most of whom have been annoying and canterkerous cunts!

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I love, admire and respect women very much. I actuallly know a few good ones. In fact they are the best. I might even call a few of them friends.  However, for some strange reason or reasons, my path in life has mainly brought me into contact with some of the worse.  And right now there are too many fucking women in my life!

It’s Not Easy …But, I’m Back

Sorry guys! I had to wheel and come again with this one.  I appreciate being missed and all but I do really find it difficult to keep up.  When I started this blogging thing, I really planned to stay at it.  But if you knew me, you would know that I am the kind of person who starts a project, gets bored easily and then abandon same.  However, it is not that I find blogging boring, far from it! I just can’t find the time to dedicate to it as I would like.

I face some challenges.  I have no connectivity at home. Daddy refuses to allow his phone line to be converted.  I have to do this at work or at a cafe. It is not always easy to do so.  Apart from my limited connectivity, I am swamped with work.  My new assignment takes a great deal out of me.  I am also engaged in a number of civic projects.  Yes, among other things, I am a civic activist.

Blogging has offered me a great outlet to really raise my voice and bare my soul. As a Catholic, I understand the importance of the confession. The “blogosphere” has recently become my confessional and you my priests.  Apart from that, here is where I come to scream; here is where I come to cry; here is where I come to laugh; here is also where I come!

I wish to thank those bloggers who have been sharing those kind words with me.  You would never come to realize how much you have meant to me over the past few weeks.  Your posts, your comments, your advice, your critique, it all empowers me.

As a forty something male who is attempting to embrace celibacy, (reluctantly); struggling in a sometimes fucked up job, you people inspire me.  That is why I plan to make every effort to bare my soul and raise my voice.

In the mean time, give me some advice please on how to keep this up!

The Woman Who Will Change America

Ever since the world was introduced to the Obamas, I have been intensely fascinated by Michelle Obama.  Tonight, I looked at her deliver the key note address at the Democratic Convention.  I was almost moved to tears.

She is such a strong, intelligent, articulate, graceful and beautiful black woman.  While everyone follows BaracK, I pay close attention to Michelle. 

Above all Michelle is devoted to her family. Oh, by the way, she reminds me very much of my own wife! She actually looks like her! You better believe it!

Michelle Obama

In her own words tonight:

“I come here as a wife who loves my husband and believes he will be an extraordinary president…”

“All of us are driven by a simple belief that the world as it is just won’t do — that we have an obligation to fight for the world as it should be…”

“That is the thread that connects our hearts. That is the thread that runs through my journey and Barack’s journey and so many other improbable journeys that have brought us here tonight, where the current of history meets this new tide of hope. And you see, that is why I love this country.”

The Joys of Bachelorhood!

Sunday August 24, 2008: It is 11:27 am. I am sitting uptsairs the KFC establishment down town Kingstown at the corner of Grenville and Melville streets.  I have just had breakfast.  I had a zinger sanwich, two packs of fries and two glasses of pepsi.  Perhaps, I will come back later for dinner.  Lunch in the meantime (a late lunch) will be another soda and some sweet biscuits.

KFC Down town Kingstown, SVG

It is now 11:32 am.  I am penning these thoughts in little red notebook.  Upstairs KFC is empty except for me sitting at the window overlooking Grenville Street.  At this time on a Sunday morning, business is slow.  The KFC staff are engaged in idle chatter.  They appear to be in good spirits judging from the frequent outbursts of laughter emanating from downstairs.  I continue to write.  Perhaps I will post this on my blog later this afternoon.

Not too long ago, a typical Sunday such as this was spent at home with the family.  I would be more than likely in the kitchen preparing an elaborate Sunday meal.  Yes! That’s correct, I would be in the kitchen taking charge or simply helping out the wife.  The children would have been occupied in various ways.  The eldest (a girl) would be locked away in her room working on a school assignment or talking with her friends on the phone.  The two boys would be watching TV or playing video games.  Every now and then, the wife or I would be shouting: “Keep the noise down! Did you guys do your homework?  Come here… Do this … Do that”.  It was chaotic at times but it was beautiful.

Today, I am trying very hard to live as a bachelor or more like a quasi-bachelor.  And, as you can tell by now, it is not easy!

I have not washed a piece of my clothes in nearly six months!  Back at home there was a washing machine and the wife and kids took turns doing the laundry.  The general understanding was that I hated washing but I loved cooking and cleaning.  At Daddy’s house, there is no washing machine.  And because I hate washing, I have been wearing  shirts up to five times each in rotation before the stink forces me to put them aside. I have been buying cheap T-shirts in abundance whenever I need a clean shirt.  I have recently bought complete suits to attend some special engagements.  Meawhile the dirty clothes continue to pile up.  Frankly, I prefer to burn them before I wash them.  I just hate that fucking chore.

I love cooking; I am a good cook.  But I have not cooked in months.  Cooking is of no joy when you have to eat alone.  I enjoy cooking for people especially my family.  Cooking was always a pleasure especially on Sundays.  Unfortunately, in my new state of quasi-bachelorhood I now resort to fast food.  KFC happens to be my favourite.

It is now 11:58 am.  I thihk about how to spend the rest of the day.  When I leave this place, I plan to go to the office (my new office) and prepare for tomorrow.  I may later on take my youngest son, the 13 year old, to watch the movie  Hell Boy .  Then we may hang out at Heritage Square for a while; eat Richie’s hot wings and take in some music.  Then my son goes home to his Mommy (the wife) and I go back to Daddy’s house.

Heritage Square Kingstown SVG

Life as a quasi-bachelor (neither married nor single) is terrible.  I have already shared with you my lament on the scarcity of pussy.  But, as you can tell there is much more to it than that.

The Great Creator did not put us on this earth to live alone.  That is the essence of the fable of Adam and Eve.  Yes! Eve fucked up.  So did Adam.  But, there is no evidence that they separated.

Since I have been forced to part company with my wife, several colleagues, friends, and family members think that it is a time for me to celebrate.  “Move on!”, they say. “There are several women out there looking for a man like you…You are free…” They all give the impression that bachelorhood is a preferred state.

I must confess that there were times when I wish that I were a bachelor again.  Now that I am a quasi-bachelor, I am convinced that bachelorhood is not what it appears to be even from the vantage point of a rocky marriage- at least not for me. Bachelorhood is over-rated.

It is now 12:17 pm.  Two young men, bachelors, enter the dining area.  They get too loud for my liking.  There is now a young lady sitting a few tables away from me.  She is probably in her mid 30s.  She looks great in a thightly fitting pair of jeans accentuating the curves.  She wears a sleeveless horizontally striped pink and white blouse just as tight as the jeans. “Gorgeous”, I say to my self. “Potential pussy”, I think.  I look in her direction hoping to make eye contact.  As far as she is concerned, I am invisible.

My heart aches again for another Sunday with my family, the wife and all.  Whoever claims that bachelorhood after 40 is a great place to be, perpetrates a huge and terrible lie.

It is 15:47 pm. I am about to share these thoughts with you.

Numalali

Bloggers Beware!

Fellow Members of The Blogging Fraternity, it seems as if blogging could be a dangerous past time!  There is evidence that at least one Caibbean Blogger has suffered harrassment, indimidation and persecution stemming from his blogging activities.

Meet Allan Palmer,  a Vincentian blogger operating out of Bermuda.  Until recently, he was a member of the Bermuda Police Service.  His story should be of interest to all of us.

Ex-Police Palmer: Fired for blogging?

The Searchlight Newspaper, a weekly published in St. Vincent and the Grenadines carried an interesting yet disturbing report on Friday 15, August 2008.  According to the story Mr Allan Palmer may have been fired from the Bermuda Police Service for posting offensive material on his blog site “Crushing Fools”

Palmer is accused of breaching some police procedures with his blog posts.  Some of them are said to be laced with misrepresenations and may have been found to be offensive to the Bermuda Police Service. 

However, Palmer contends that his dismissal has been part of a plot hatched against him by George Jackson, Bermuda’s Chief of Police, Kieth Miller Commissioner of Police St.  Vincent and Ralph Gonsalves, Prime Minister of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. 

Palmer has been strident critic of the Gonsalves admininistration.  He was a regular on several call in programmes; he wrote to the press and more recently Palmer started a blog as a means of sharing his independent thoughts.  It seems as if he has lost his job as a result of these activities.

George Jackson: Chief of Police, Bermuda

As a civil servant who wishes to speak out in the same manner as Palmer did, I am very mindful of the repercussions.  I have since looked at “Crushing Fools” and I am impressed.  Unfortunately for Mr Palmer he seemed to have ignite the wrath of the Vincentian PM Gonsalves, Keith Miller, his Chief of Police and Geoge Jackson Bermuda, Chief of Police and Gonsalves’s friend.

Keith Miller: Chief of Police, St. Vincent

We bloggers must get together and show support for Palmer.  Today it may be him.  Who knows who will be attacked tomorrow.

Bloggers beware!

Numalali

 

I Just Love a Good Ass!!!

In my current sexless state, I fantasize a lot about the ass. So much so, I have become quite an expert in pointing out good asses. 

The ass is a vulgarism for the most beautiful part of the human anatomy, the buttocks, or butt for short.  Indeed, both males and females do carry beautiful asses.  However, I am deepy attracted to the female variety. 

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I have no problem with men bearing good looking asses.  It just does not excite me.  A woman’s ass is arguably the most beautiful and yet the most ambivalent part of the female anatomy.  How could such a mountain of beauty be the source of shit?  Why such a beautiful object should bear such an ugly name? It baffles me, yet I love a good ass.

Just recently I went on a cyber quest to find the best looking asses of all times (my picks).  I decided to rank them.  After weeks of sorting through the good, the bad and the stink, I have come up with the top five that I would like to share with you.

Click on the link below, view the presentation and let me know what you think.

The Top Five Best Looking Asses 

Numalali

Life Without Pussy

I have not had sex in nearly four years!

I am 46 years old.  I am living in my father’s house for just over a year now.  Certain circumstances beyond my control have forced me to repatriate to the place where I was born.

My father (Daddy) has been living alone for the past 12 years.  This is because we the children all grew up, left home and Daddy’s wife (Mammy) subsequently abandoned him and migrated to the US.  Thus, Daddy is now a born again bachelor living on his own. That is, until I came back to the family home.

My wife chased me away after 20 plus years of marriage.  So, I had no other choice but to go back and dwell with the old man.  So far so good.

Like I said, I have not made love to a woman  in nearly four years.  Long before I was forced to leave my wife (about a year ago) she was already withholding the pussy from me.  I tried to be patient and understanding.  Perhaps, I thought, she was going through a phase.  Pretty soon, the pussy would soon flow again.  Alas! It never did.

I later learned that my beloved wife was generously sharing the pussy with some one else! Naturally, I confronted her on the matter.  My wife did not deny or confirm the allegations.  She simply told me to leave.  No more pussy! Not ever!

From the time that the pussy went scarce I should have suspected that something was wrong.  However, being the loving husband that I wanted to be, I sought to exercise patience and understanding.  After all we had been married for 20 plus years.  She must have been getting tired of sex; it could have been the prelude to menopause. I could not believe that she was givng the pussy to some other bastard while I waited and waited for the “phase” to pass.

Looking back now, I think I could see the signs of “butting”, “horning”, “bunning”, “tabanca” or whatever the fuck we call infidelity.  I now rtealize that I was in a state of denial.  To cut a long story short, I had to run!

Upon his invitation, I came to live with Daddy.

Daddy is 67 years old.  He is in excellent shape.  That old man, a retired cop, still puts in a full day’s work on his farm.  And yes, he still gets his full share of pussy!  It is that fact that prompted this post.

Last night, I entered the house just before midnight after spending all day in the office.  Remember, I have to clean up the place in preparation for my new location and new assignment on Monday. Anyway, as hard as it is to believe, the old man was locked up in his room with a woman!

As I opened the front door, the sounds of fucking penetrated my consciousness.  I heard the muffled moans; I heard the grunts and groans; I heard the oohs and aahs.  I said to myself, “The old man is fucking again!”.

At 67, Daddy is getting as much pussy as he wants!  As for me, I am experiencing an extended period of pussy drought and I don’t know how to deal with it.  As much as I love pussy, the circumstances are not propitious for me to go out, seek, find and plunder pussy.  I am 46.  After 20 plus years of a monogamous relationship it is not easy or even desirable for me to look pussy.

I must confess however, that I have been easing the sexual tension by watching a whole lot of porn and “jucking”, “yanking”, “backing” or “jerking off” till kingdom come. No, till I come!  Yes my friends, masturbation is a reasonable alternative. But let it be known that nothing beats the pussy!

By the way, I still love my wife very much.  I will take her back if she ever wants me.  After all she has been much more than pussy to me!

Numalali