Moans from Morocco

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Categories: Travel and Social

Moans from Morocco

So randomly I decided that I deserved a short break and booked myself a holiday in Marrakech. The longest part of this decision was deciding where to go as I needed to get more tier points AND sun without wasting a day travelling. I know, I’m a slave to reward schemes.

Anyhoo after disregarding Malaga, Malta and Nice (apparently there was snow on the beach so I was thankful) I opted for one of those flight + hotel deals. Note to self: I’m waaay too fussy for this way of living. Next time I’ll just do flights.

I get there after a snowy delay at Gatwick and you have to then run the taxi gauntlet which is basically them trying to rip you off by telling you there’s 50% more now. I was made to stand and wait for 25 minutes with a black guy so I’m guessing that’s black man’s corner?

After a harrowing taxi I get to my hotel and it’s fine. I can’t complain. But then, there’s always something so here are my tips for surviving Marrakech

Take your own loo roll. Their 5 star hotel one ply is not the one.

Book a shuttle taxi with the hotel and be greeted by a banner with your name. Nobody needs that level of aggro after a 5 hour sit down on the plane (3.5 hour flight but with Gatwick delays)

At the airport they will try to tell you to take out £300. Don’t. Unless you like overpriced rugs and haggling with professional liars. £150 is enough for 3 days.

They’re not ready for gluten free living. Their ‘bread’ was more hard biscuits scone-ish and inedible. Just go for a tagine with rice instead of couscous and hope for the best.  And pack gluten free biscuits.

Ask for a room with a  sun facing balcony. And not on the ground floor. Lots of wanderers apparently walking into the wrong rooms

Marrakech has caught on and is not overpriced. Book everything through the hotel such as taxis and try not to be resentful at the stench of cat pissed streets.

The guys are aggressive but as a black woman not so much with me. I think this was partly to do with their love or western money. Great for a solo pool getaway though.

Would I go back? Nope! But I’m glad I’ve ticked it off the bucket list




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Categories: BLOG

#RandomThought   Me If I was a famous man I would just put my hands up and say I’ve been a dick before all of the women I’ve ever met start telling truths about me. I would write an apology outlining how I didn’t know about equality and not abusing my position of penis and why I only know now that I have a daughter, loving partner and brand I want to protect stroke I don’t want to ruin. I would state that yes, indeed since 2017 or the birth of my recognition that women ain’t taking that shit anymore have changed into someone who will be about to keep my dick and hands to myself.

Whilst I will struggle with this daily I will probably just groom the more vulnerable of women who aren’t likely to get a backbone thereby being an even bigger dick but my contribution to a charity or event will mean the public think otherwise. I would PR the hell out of this and resign / retire from whatever it is I do because I know my brothers in perv have me covered. My money will not suffer.

This all assumes I’m a heterosexual dick however. If I’m gay I’m not saying shit until I’m called out. You lot are going to have to call me out! I’m hoping at that point I will be able to use the internal angst of my sexuality battle and coming out as an excuse. I will misalign all of the then young men as money grabbing opportunists who want to use me to get work done now that they are old.

I will claim that my presence in a gay bar / club was merely research for a song / role. I will vilify the media for persecuting me as a gay man. I will probably get married to a man to prove that those heady days of grabbing by the penis are over and I am reformed. I will donate to gay charities and throw lavish fund raising events.

These both assume that I’m white. If I’m not white then I will say nothing. I will claim that the women (because I can’t be very black and gay really? Well not a lot) or men are trying to bring our people down with their malicious lies. They’re doing drugs.  I will claim they don’t understand the business and that this is why they aren’t successful. My boys will say they didn’t see anything as I pay their wages.

I will claim she liked being passed around the group and this was not videod They didn’t have the right work ethic or attitude to make it. I will call them out for not being attractive and being ghetto even if they are from the suburbs and aren’t attractive. I will make sure that my army of twitter trolls pours venom on them all the time, every day until they have to delete their account. I will continue doing what the fuck I like with other people’s bodies because I am a hero in my community and you all belong to me.

I will Bill Cosby/ R Kelly / Tyrese the hell out of this and attack the victims at every turn. . I will not lose any of my power or status. Unless it’s with a white woman then I’m kinda fucked. B*cky power means they have not only cornered the market in being harassed but they have commandeered #MeToo and white power will protect them from the savage African penis which….well you know the deal. Penis envy. size matters blah blah blah

Eish……Sorry Seal. Anyone know where Tiger is?…


archive revisted winter warmer blues

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Categories: BLOG, Misadventures

Now as we all now summer is the ultimate in finding the WW. Yes my precious the Winter Warmer. The guy we don’t mind sharing the duvet with because we know that a) body warmth in the UK means cheaper fuel bills and b) chances are he will be gone as soon as the snow drops and daffodils start to blossom. The perfect solution to a seasonal need.


So this was the summer in which I surely couldn’t go wrong. World cup years means men from all over the world joined in holy drinking, analysis and flat screen TVs in pubs. If ever I was going to score it was going to be 2010.


So where to start? Mr Bromley, left over from last winter was an obvious choice and as if the universe agreed I bumped into him. We set a date then he ruined it by saying he had forgotten howto get to my flat. Yes to be fair the thought of yours truly travelling to Bromley didn’t appeal but what made him think he could pick up where he left off 6 months back without so much as a Nandos first? A hearty meal is an essential winter warmer’s responsibility!


Then there was my perfect on paper Mr Banker Winker. That’s not a typo. He winked at me for days online. He owns his own house, spoke 3 languages, worked out every day and declared himself ready for a temporary to permanent arrangement. I was almost sold. We then spoke on the phone and one of his first questions was “So……are you adventurous?” I started telling him about the time me and my friends broke into the men’s toilets in a church hall when I was in the Brownies. I don’t think these were the sorts of adventures he was referring to. He ended the call with a fantasy he had for me where I would get a massage from his hot Brazilian friend (his words not mine) as foreplay. Something tells me he and the Brazilian may have ended up neglected my needs for their own pleasures. Call me old fashioned precious but it’s best to wait until we’ve met before introducing other people into the mix. Then again maybe Winker is a typo.


Oh there were others, so many others. One I am sad to say didn’t make the cut as he vehemently hated Take That or any pop band since 1982 which is more than 35% of my iTunes library. Replacing boy bands for one man who doesn’t appreciate the happy of pop? NEXT!!

So as we fall out of Autumn into Winter I find myself stocking up for hibernation. Electric blanket, thermals, PJ jumpsuit – check! At this rate any man I meet this winter may have to battle his way through 3 layers of sleepwear. But like all badly wrapped pressies, it’s well worth tearing open the wrapping on Christmas morning.

Happy hunting!


©Chelsea Black

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