You might want to read my disclaimer


This blog is my haven. I rant, I vent and I talk kak. If you don’t like cussing, stay away. If you can’t deal with writing on sex, stay far, far, far away. If you’re a guy, you could do with reading some of my stuff; it might just change your opinion on things. Though, truthfully, most men might not be comfortable with my very frank utterings. Be warned, also: since I am almost in a relationship, I might become boring, and write about cats, instead of hot, passionate sexual explorings. It’s possible, but not likely. 😉

Because I am South African, I write from a South African standpoint. This includes the use of some Afrikaans every so often. But not much, I promise.
I do not attempt to be an intellectual; I reserve that for the men/man I shag. That is not to say that I am not an intellectual in my own right. My writing is not amazing, please do not expect too much. I am Afrikaans. And coloured. And a girl. And a heathen. So prepare yourself for a heathen’s feminist perspective on love, race, religion, sex and language. It could get slightly messy… And damn it, there’s nothing wrong with being a feminist!

If you’re Victor, do not read this blog, it will fuck with your mind.


3 Responses to “You might want to read my disclaimer”

  1. Regarding your statement about fucking with somebody’s mind… You can only fuck with that which one has. It’s terribly difficult to find a person who actually knows how to use theirs.

    Remember that.

  2. callith Says:

    Um, Victor is my Significant Other. If he reads this blog, he’ll probably stop seeing me.

    Not that I see him very often, but that’s besides the point.

  3. Mu Says:

    Hi Youmeher, let me introduce myself. I don’t know who or what I am, or what I am not, so you will probably classify me as confused. Today I wear the body of an impotent old white man, so I am fully qualified to give advice to a young hot black woman. I have no advice for you, just a story. The last time I wore a body such as yours and had sex, I still did not know anything. I did not know if I was white or black, man or woman, alive or dead, orgasmic or not. I didn’t know whether the man was inside me or I was inside the man. I didn’t know anything at all. I just felt what I felt and responded how I responded. I still don’t know how long it lasted or even whether it has stopped at this moment, or even whether it occurred at all. Afterwards though, the man fell asleep. Good night now! Oh wait, I do have some advice for you: read what you write. Now I will test whether the return key ends this note.

    Oh, paragraphs *are* allowed. Wonderful.

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