Yo P-Funk…P-LicHer here! Will you marry me?
If so, it would be the first marriage made in heaven.
We could work at home, vacation when/where we want, travel when/where we want & raise a family. No joke 
http://www.c4vct.com/kym/humor/marriage.htm
Blog: Insane In The Mom-Brain
Source: Inside The Mind of a Ghetto Genius
Facebook: Insane In The Mom-Brain
If there’s one thing we all know about guys it’s this: They masturbate. A lot. And you know what else they do? They admit it. And they don’t get embarrassed about it either. They just totally own it. And I think that’s completely awesome. Because – let’s face it – it’s something that we all do. Let me repeat that. IT’S SOMETHING THAT WE ALL DO. Basically it’s like breathing. And much like if you were to deny that you breathed, nobody will ever, ever, EVER believe you if you deny masturbating.
The strange thing is that most women have a problem with it. They have problems with their men doing it, and problems admitting that they do it too. Why the hell wouldn’t a chick want her man to masturbate? Is it because you think that he’s thinking about other girls when he’s doing it? Well I have news for you. He probably is. Wait. Scratch that. He definitely is. At least some of the time. And guess what? If he’s spanking it to thoughts of fucking Kate Beckinsale, he’s not actually fucking Kate Beckinsale. It’s called IMAGINATION, you guys. And imagination is a pretty important skill to have when you’re planning to fuck only one person for possibly the rest of your goddamn life.
Women masturbate. They pretend they don’t. But they do. Why do they pretend they don’t? Since I am not a woman who pretends, I can’t really answer that. But If I had to guess, I would say it’s because they think they are supposed to. Ya know, so they look all prim and proper and wifey and motherly and shit. But let’s face it. That’s really a 1950′s way of doing things. We masturbate. I mean, I prefer to call it “rubbing one out”, but no matter what you call it, you know you do it. And if you honestly, really, truly don’t? Well, if that’s the case, then you’re totally missing out.
I was probably about 11 or 12 when I discovered the sheer joy of “rubbing one out”. That discovery totally coincided with my desire to take long baths. Up until that point, I used to fight with my parents about baths. And once forced into the bathroom under threats of losing my tv privileges on “Facts of Life” night, I would unwillingly go into the bathroom, shut the door, make splashing sounds with my hands and wet feet marks on the rug, and pretend I had taken the damn bath. Would it have been easier to have actually just taken the fucking bath? Yes. But I didn’t care. And once I discovered my own little wonderland, I made up for all those fake baths by taking such insanely long baths that I would willingly miss “Facts of Life” night altogether. I’d be in there so long, that my mom would threaten to pick the lock. But that was my only place to get my groove on with my bad self. And at that time in my life, I was really into me. We had something special. And primetime tv be damned! We were gonna have our date nights if it killed me. Even if it meant not knowing what Jo and Blair were up to that week. My love for myself was just that strong.
Fast forward to my teens. If being an expert masturbator in your teen years does anything for you, it’s this: It lets you know when a boy has no fucking idea what the hell he’s doing between your legs. If you have practiced that shit and perfected the holy hell out it, then you damn well know what’s what. And believe me, if you know what’s what, then you don’t waste your precious teen-dating years messing around with some jackass who rubs your pussy like he’s scratching off an instant win lottery card. I remember dating one poor idiot who was rubbing the living hell out of the wrong spot. He was so way off the mark that I had to hold myself back from laughing my ass off. But thankfully, I had practiced enough that when these things happened I could say, “Let me show you what I like.” And that right there is a gentle way of saying, “You couldn’t find your way around a pussy with a map, you moron.” And sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, I was sweet like that.
Fast forword again to the present. I’m married. I’m a mom. I have a very healthy libido, but I’m not always in the mood for sex. Well, I’m always in the mood for sex with myself, but I’m not always in the mood for sex with my husband. Why? It’s nothing against him, it’s just that sometimes I’m tired or busy or just don’t want the whole process of it all. Yeah, sometimes I will just say, “Can we have a wham bam thank you ma’am? And you don’t even have to say thank you, cuz (a) I’m not a sensitive bitch, and (b) The thank you is sorta implied when I have an orgasm.” And believe me, I do often say that. And we do often do that. But there are also plenty of times when I just don’t want the hassle when I know that I can do it myself at any time during the day that I feel the need, and always walk away feeling totally satisfied. Listen, I’ve been dating myself for a long time, and I know how to get the job done. Without any drama, and without any time consuming snuggling afterwards, when what I really wanna do is just watch tv or get on Facebook. And there are also times that “rubbing one out” during the day gets me even hornier and more in the mood to have sex with my husband at night.
I wham bam thank you ma’am myself all the time. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. It relieves stress. It makes me feel good. And to be totally honest, it makes me feel even more horny as well as incredibly sexy. And I think most men would agree that a woman who talks openly about pleasuring herself is sexy as hell. And even better than that, a woman who talks openly about masturbating, is probably more likely to do it in front of her man. And believe me, any man you do it in front of will thank you. Big time.
Contributor: P-Funk