Racist

I was thinking today about race, and so decided to use the amazing tool given to me known as the Online Dictionary to look up the definition of racism. Here it is:

Racism:

1. the belief that races have distinctive cultural characteristics determined by hereditary factors and that this endows some races with an intrinsic superiority over others

Given that definition, I must admit that I am absolutely and unapologetically racist.

I cannot help but think of how beautiful a woman would be if she possessed all the superior qualities of every race….

She may have skin as dark as a moonless night like a Nubian Princess, or as pale as the brightest star, like a statuesque Scandanavian.

Her eyes would tell the most intimate secrets as you looked into them- maybe a bright Cerulean blue as the purest Aryan’s, perhaps delicately slanted like an Asian Empress’, possibly midnight black as a Spaniard’s.

Her lips would speak the softest words through lips as full and luscious as an African’s, and her tongue would roll the spoken consonants and gracefully as any Mexican.

Her hair could be a riotous mass of flaming curls, compliments of her Irish heritage, or perhaps ebony sleek due to her Hunan roots. It would of course be braided in the intricate and detailed micro-braids of her Liberian ancestors.

Her body! Oh, her body! Perhaps small and ethereal as those in China, perchance as tall and lean as those in Iceland. Her curves would rival any Latina’s anywhere- breasts round and plentiful with an ass to match, and she would stand proud and strong as any Amazonian chieftan. Men throughout the world would fall at her feet just to glimpse her delicately-shaped ankles.

She would possess hands stronger than any farm woman’s, a mind sharper than a Russian physicist’s, and her soul would be kinder than any found in an Amish community.

If there was such a race as this, how could we not believe we live in a beautiful world?

A Persian Youth

I was clicking through my blog today trying to figure out what to write about, when it came to my attention that I have failed to mention my almost-affair with a Persian youth. How could I have missed that?!

The story is quite humorous, really. When I was working at the department store of my choice, I befriended a sweet girl who was going to school for fashion. This greatly intrigued me, since I like fashion, and the thought of having to write a paper on the history of polka dots sounded very useful. Anyhoo, Fashion Gal and I became quick friends, and we spent our days at work exclaiming over the shiny new trends that we had to put away.

There was a boy we worked with that I shall simply call the Persian, because, well, he was Persian. He first came to my attention when a group of coworkers and I were discussing race (in a non-racist sort of way) and he came flying up out of nowhere and completely reamed one of my coworkers, accusing him of racism. Fashion Gal and I stood aside slack-jawed at his obvious over-reaction, until he didn’t stop ranting- then we began to giggle.

This was the thing about the Persian. He grew up in a city in Minnesota that is well known for being a place filled with rich folk. (His parents being a couple of them) He himself has never once experienced any racial hatred (unless you count his high-school friends calling him Alek-Malek) He dated white girls, and he was never accosted unfairly by police or other authoratative figures because of the color of his skin. While I do not disagree that racism is quite prevelant in America still, he had never experienced it, so his complete flying off the handle was highly amusing.

Moving on. It came to my attention soon after that the Persian had a thing for Fashion Gal. They were incredibly flirty with each other, and then she told me in secret that they had exchanged phone numbers and that she was greatly confused about her feelings, because she had a boyfriend. The Persian had stated his extreme Like for her, and she was distraught over what to do.

Being the matchmaker that I am, I told her to dump her dorky boyfriend and go for the Persian. (Though I had no good reason to say so) It ended up that she went back to school and ended all contact with the Persian soon after.

The Persian and I were saddened, (he because he lost his chance at great Love, and I because I lost my new Fashion Buddy) and we reminisced of our short time with her. We ended up exchanging phone numbers (I’m not exactly sure why) and things got weird from there.

We were texting back and forth one day when the subject came up of talking dirty. I may have mentioned that I don’t generally do that, but it’s highly entertaining to text dirty. So I dared him that I could text dirtier than he could. (Yes, I’m completely silly sometimes. I’m aware) Apparently, my dirty texting was too much for his young brain (I forgot to mention he was 19) and he couldn’t get enough. He was also so kind to send me a penis picture unexpectedly. (Shocking, and surprisingly young-looking. I felt like a pedaphile)

I may have mentioned that I like to send nudeys to people to brighten their days. So, since he was so… kind as to send me one, I thought it only fair that I send him one. He was not disappointed. We began chatting about hooking up, (me, because I was bored, and he because he wanted me to “learn stuff from an older woman.” What ended up happening was actually nothing, because anytime it actually would have worked out for us to get together, he would magically have an excuse why he couldn’t. (Despite the fact that he begged me to make time for him.)

Our relationship (if you could call it that) was one hell of a roller-coaster ride. I am not racist whatsoever, yet during several conversations we had at work, he accused me of being so. There were times when he took the time to teach me a few Farsi words while we were working, (I could sell you a book in Iran if I ever happened to go there) and then there were the times when he completely would deny his Muslim up-bringing (which I asked about because I am a smart woman and want to know lots of stuff about stuff). We even had some very wretched Facebook fights, (Due to the fact that he was overly obsessed about race) and there were several instances of him calling me a stupid fuck because I don’t have any Black friends and I didn’t go to college. (I have no black friends because there are no Black people around me- if there were, I’m quite certain we would be friends, but I’m not going to go out looking for an African-American just so I can say “Hey! Look at me! I have a Black friend!”- because that would just be weird.) Besides, I am obviously NOT racist, since I spoke of possibly having his Persian Man Part stuck in me.

The funny thing is, that despite the fact that he called me such horrid names and deleted me on Facebook FOUR times, he kept adding me back and asking for more nudeys. I’m not sure if he’s selling them on the Black Market (Just to be clear, that was NOT a racial slur, Persian) or if he just wants them for his own personal use, but after not hearing from him in over a year, I was surprised to find a message from him on Facebook the other day saying, “I miss you.”

 

P.S. I realized later on that I have unwittingly been slowly making my way around the world in bed. I guess I missed out on a chance to  get a little Persian in me. 😉