HOLLER! HOLLER!! HOLLER!!!
Just another reminder to my esteem followers: Master SHANGO recently started a GoFundMe Campaign to raise funds to travel back to the States. For many months, he has received plenty of emails and corresponded with numerous white women and couples who keep demanding the same question: "When will you return?"
My dream is to make my return a reality and hopefully for my return to happen on or before this summer of 2016. Once in the States, I can as well tour the cities to spend time with everyone who's supported my trip, as well to meet new and interesting people who desire I don't leave back to Africa so suddenly anymore.
Should you wish to contact me, you can do that via EMAIL, or through other means of social media below. Find my GoFundMe link below as well. Thank you for your contribution, and hope you continue enjoying my blog.
Article: What Most Hubbies Fear
What do a lot of white hubbies fear? That really is an important question when you come to think about it, and I would say it don’t only rest with white hubbies but with just every husband out there in the world (although I wouldn’t know if such applies to Eskimos or those who inhabit the wide sparse of arid habitation called Siberia, but please accept the humour and let’s move on).
For the purpose of keeping this straight, we’re going to focus on white hubbies and their lovely wives.
Every hubby carries a weighty fear of his wife and whatever she might be indulging into behind his back. Unless of course the hubby has got his mind all focused on work and making money to care about where his other half is or has been. The white wife has been the ultimate trophy woman since time immemorial. In the U.S., no place was this more evident than in the case of the American South. We can wonder why folks like the KKK ever got the temerity to go after coloured individuals, but we can look past the skin and see what lay hidden behind the southern white man’s prejudiced mind.
This subject of keeping the white woman chaste and harboured by societal restrictions has been in vogue much through the early times of the twentieth century and well into ‘50s America. Hers was pictured into a model of a typical housewife: staying indoors mending to the kids’ welfare and meeting with her female friends to play bridge and pass along dirty gossip of whatever’s lurking deep underneath Suburbia America’s backyard. How was she ever to know that they laid cracks under the shell? That the world was changing and most especially that she too was changing?
Then came the cultural revolution of the 60s, and like the messianic words of W.B. Yeats, ‘Things had indeed fallen apart and the centre could no longer be made whole again’. The mini-skirt was invented and the Pill revolutionised what had always been lacking in a woman’s psyche. The black man’s cries were resounding in the ghettos and won’t ever be kept silent again. The white woman gradually became self-aware of what her fellow men had tried in vain to keep hidden from her eyes.
Her children too were coming alive, more militant, more out-spoken than their parents ever were. They embraced the Counter-Culture, they read pornographic or banned literature, they smoked marijuana and dabbled with psychedelic rock and roll . . . and they discovered interracial sex.
It came with a silence that most never knew existed. Marilyn Chambers showed us what lay hidden behind the ‘Green Door’, and before you knew it, this hidden lifestyle became America’s favourite kept secret. Couples got into the act too. Behind motel rooms and closed bedroom doors, husbands introduced their hungry wives to secret pleasures they never thought they would ever find elsewhere outside their homes.
The white woman became enamoured of her own sexuality, and though there still exist cracks in the system, she no longer desired to be the indoor housewife much anymore. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she still wants to be well-kept (which woman would ever want to be denied that?), but she wants the room and freedom to choose more of what she wants out of it. No longer must she be afraid of what Sex is about, not when she knows that she too is Sex.
If it talks like Sex . . .
Walks like Sex . . .
Speaks of Sex . . .
Dresses with Sex . . . then she is Sex.
Still the fight is not overly won. Around her is the weighting machine known as ‘Society’, which still seeks desperately to return her to the lifestyle her mother and grand-mother were used to back in the 1950s. society is always poking its nose into her affairs, wanting to tell her what to do with her life: what sort of company to keep, the sort of husband she ought to pick for a mate, whom and how to make love, and to sit back and watch re-runs of ‘Desperate Housewives’, when the kids aren’t giving her headaches. The same goes with her husband too, who unconsciously acts as Society’s wheel in keeping her glued to where she ought to be, to what she ought to make herself become.
The American Woman has a long fight to travel and a long journey to struggle. She is like the American black man of the 60s. Although separate by colour, creed and substance, theirs is a struggle towards the Everest of society they ought to make . . . Together!
So, what are the factors that have aided towards the spread of interracial mixing aside from the fact that the world has moved on and that the average white woman is no longer encumbered with being locked up at home and turned into a piece of trophy by her white husband? One of them is simple, so ubiquitous now and it’s one of the major apparatus that has turned the world into a shrinking village.
The net has bridged a lot of distance and mileage towards being something of just a mere click away. That as well as other apparatus that have come with modern technology that’s made communication generally more accessible to the average man. Of course, we can always thank fellows such as Jobs and Gates for that. Who would have known they’d be making things a lot easier for white women to get as well as keep in touch with brothers.
Whereas in the past, a lot of such women found themselves having no other source of happiness aside from meeting with other fellow wives at bridge clubs and chattering idle gossip, and where for most of these woman, they’re now easy access for which they can keep in touch as well as get to finding places where they can chat with black men online and off.
So now we ask the question: What are white hubbies most afraid of?
For a lot it concerns seeing their wives lost to herself when in the arms of a black man. There is something unique about this picture: about seeing a white woman give herself wholesomely to a black man. Surrendering herself to whatever outcome is bound to come forth from their meeting. So strange and intriguing and at the same time piqued by what he sees, the white hubby begs to ask himself: what is behind this attraction of white women towards black men? If she needs to be attracted towards another man, why not a white-skinned fellow just like him? Why would she have to venture out of her pristine neighbourhood to the other side of town to mingle with someone whom most hubbies wouldn’t dare wish to stroll past their streets, let alone cross their lawns to come knock at their front door?
Mind you, I’m not declaring that white bois are racists. If you’re a white hubby reading this article, taking your time to stop by this blog to see what’s stated her, then it’s obvious you aren’t (and if by chance you are, then good luck to you on that). A lot of white bois out there have simply spent a long period of their growing-up life never having befriended any black male to have a background lesson on interracial cultural mix-ups, and for such white bois out there, I can only provide you with a simple answer: get yourself as much black friends that you possibly can. It will add further nourishment than you believing that the world is all black and white with few colours in-between.
A lot of chemistry and re-written laws of physics might be available to explain what the attraction of white women towards black men is about, although I doubt if anyone out there has the answers (including myself, of course), and then again, who really needs an answer. It is what it is: opposites attract, so too does colour of skin. White women to black men, black women to white men . . . or so the case may be for some.
A larger percentage of white married husbands are the ones adverse towards such unions as the can only imagine what the state of their wife’s pussy and new mental imagery towards them might look like now she’s been exposed to something that’s eluded her for years. Her outlook of her marital existence is bound to make a change; her state of being with her hubby is hardly going to be the same again.
For those white hubbies who’ve already made their minds up regarding to their wife’s desire for want of a black man, it’s understandable enough that they too want their wives to have the best and wouldn’t want to be in the way to prevent her from future exploring her reinvigorated passion for sex. Whereas for those who seem stupyfied by the wife’s actions and demeanour towards being used by black men, it’s a beguiling mystery that they will never be able to resolve.
Once your wife has gotten a taste of what she’s been lacking, of course she’s bound to share it with other white housewives just like herself. It makes no sense her keeping such a perfect secret all to herself. The more she spreads the good news, the better for her as well as for you. For some of your hubbies, not that a black bull isn’t there to break up your home (and I’m being honest with myself here, I can’t speak for others however), rather the bull is there to further enhance as well as provide measure of excitement to your home. It’s only expectant of you as well as natural that you learn to surrender that which you hold dearly towards his disposal.
After your wife has been conquered and she’s firmly submitted herself towards her black master’s want, so too she would as well include every other woman of age who’s close to her. If she has a daughter who’s ripe of age, it’s your duty (hubby as well as hot wife) to include her into the new tree.