Monday, 21 December 2015
Sunday, 19 July 2015
How Bill Cosby used fame and drugs to sleep with vulnerable women and hush money so his wife wouldn't find out
In a never-before-seen deposition from 2005, disgraced comedian Bill Cosby explains in his own words how he used his fame, fortune and powerful sedatives to prey on vulnerable women - and then paid them off to keep his wife from finding out.
Interviewed in a Philadelphia hotel over four days by a lawyer acting on behalf of a 30-year-old Temple University employee Andrea Constand, Cosby admitted to engaging Constand in a conversation about her father's cancer with the sole aim of then having sex with her.
The deposition was thought to have been confidential as part of the lawsuit settlement, but the New York Times obtained the documents through a court-reporting service, where it was publicly available.
Primarily he spoke of Constand, but also of other victims, including a 19-year-old model who sent him a poem and ended up on his couch where she pleasured him with lotion.
After describing a sexual act he had with Constand, Cosby explained why he believed it to be consensual.
'I walk her out. She does not look angry. She does not say to me, don't ever do that again,' he said. 'She doesn't walk out with an attitude of a huff, because I think that I'm a pretty decent reader of people and their emotions in these romantic sexual things, whatever you want to call them.'
Constand's lawyer, Dolores M. Troiani, accused Cosby of 'making light of a very serious situation'.
'That may very well be,' Cosby responded.
Cosby has repeatedly denied all alleged sexual assault, though dozens of women have accused him of such acts.
And although he's had the support of several public figures throughout the allegations, this 1,000-page deposition could change people's views.
During the deposition, he described frustration with Constand after she failed to follow his advice of pursuing sports broadcasting.
'Here's a mentor, Bill Cosby, who is in the business, Bill Cosby, who happens to know something about what to do and Andrea is not picking up on it,' he said.
Cosby also described an early moment in their courtship, when he arranged an intimate meal at his Pennsylvania home and they were out of sight from his chef.
'I take her hair and I pull it back and I have her face like this,' he said. 'And I'm talking to her... And I talked to her about relaxing, being strong. And I said to her, come in, meaning her body.'
Cosby said he refrained from intercourse because he didn't want women to fall in love with him. He said it 'is something that I feel the woman will succumb to more of a romance and more of a feeling, not love, but it's deeper than a playful situation.'
He added that he was not in love with Constand.
After their association carried on for a few years, the incident in which he said he gave her half a tablet of Benadryl occurred.
Cosby said it was to relieve stress, and they kissed and had sexual contact. Her lawyer said what he had given her was more powerful than Benadryl.
Some time later, Constand moved to Canada and Cosby spoke with Constand's mother on the phone.
Cosby said in the deposition that he was worried that Constand's mother thought of him as a 'dirty old man'.
During the call, once he was speaking to Constand, he told her to tell her mother 'about the orgasm' so that she would realize their sexual contact was consensual.
In the deposition, Cosby went on to explain the extraneous lengths he would go through to keep his wife, Camille, from finding out about his extramarital affairs.
He explained blocking a magazine article to avoid publicity and passing money through a private account with his agent to one woman so 'Mrs Cosby' wouldn't find out about their relations.
In the lawsuit, it's said that Contstand never sought funds, but Cosby thought his wife would have known he was helping her with education funds.
'My wife would not know it was because Andrea and I had had sex and that Andrea was now very, very upset and that she decided that she would like to go to school,' he said.
Cosby also insisted that the only drug he gave Constand was Benadryl, but was open about his use of quaaludes, a sedative and popular party drug, in the 1970s.
He said he obtained seven prescriptions for the drug from a Los Angeles doctor over the course of two or three years. He claimed it was for a sore back, but actually gave the drug to women.
He said he gave women the drug at that time 'the same as a person would say have a drink', but without them knowing.
He insisted the drug-taking and the sex were consensual.
When he was asked about giving quaaludes to Therese Serignese, a woman he met in Las Vegas in 1976, he said: 'I don't know'.
Joseph Cammarata, a lawyer for Serignese and two other women suing Cosby for defamation said of the deposition: 'This information is important because it sheds light on the private practices of a man who holds himself out as a public moralist.'
Also in the deposition, Cosby explained a relationship with a woman named Beth Ferrier in the 1980s, where he recalled asking her about her career and her father, who had died of cancer.
'Did you ask her those questions because you wanted to have sexual contact with her?' Troiani asked.
'Yes,' Cosby responded.
Cosby continued, however, to view himself as a standup man and said he was private about his relationships.
'I am a man, the only way you will hear about who I had sex with is from the person I had it with,' he said.
When Constand cried during her own deposition, Cosby appeared to be unfazed.
'I think Andrea is a liar and I know she's a liar because I was there. I was there,' he said when Troiani asked him about the incident.
Cosby also described sexual 'rendezvous' with at least five women in Denver, Las Vegas, New York and Pennsylvania.
Thirteen women had come forward with anonymous sworn statements to support Constand's 2005 lawsuit, but their claims were never pursued because six months after questioning, Cosby settled the case with Constand on undisclosed terms.
The release of the deposition came as a former Playboy model claimed Cosby had plied her with drugs to make her 'feel better' after the death of her son, then raped her.
Victoria Valentino, now 72, says Cosby drugged her and a friend during dinner after he bumped into them at Cafe Figaro in Hollywood in February 1970, and she had told him about the death of her six-year-old son, Tony, who had drowned in the swimming pool at her home.
Ms Valentino said Cosby had taken her, and her friend Meg, to dinner at a steak restaurant called Sneaky Pete's, where he had placed two tablets on the table in front of the women.
'He said they’d make us all feel better. I’d take anything that would make me feel better as I was hurting so much,' she said
'Then he popped another one in my mouth. I started to spin. I couldn’t hold my head up, I couldn’t speak. I managed to say I wanted to go home and he said his driver would take me.'
According to Ms Valentino, he then drove them to his luxury office in the Hollywood Hills where he raped her as her friend lay unconscious.
She says she had pulled Cosby away from her pal, provoking the entertainer to launch an attack on her instead.
She said: 'It was so frightening, so awful. I felt I was the sacrificial lamb for my friend. Then he had sex with me twice, standing up while he was doing it.'
Ms Valentino, who lives in Pasadena, California, said the revelations revealed in the deposition had not surprised her, but they had forced her to relive painful memories from her past.
Ms Valentino, who had been Playboy magazine's Playmate of the Month for its September 1963 issue, said she never came forward because she felt she had no credibility, and only decided to tell her story in November last year, when she became the 16th woman to accuse Cosby of sexual assault.
Tuesday, 14 July 2015
The African Rain.
"We are like the rain- an equal opportunity element. The dew fall on the head it sees!"
Son! I love rainy-days! I love the impressionable fact- that the Big Man Upstairs frequently plants his feet apart on a hard ground, loosens His huge belt, and let loose His huge bladder to water His earthly gardens. It's a moment of freedom to take open shower by playful kids- as if that frivolity was some kind of physical ablution-such only dedicated to the cleansing of the body, but not touching the Soul. It feeds the joys of the green earth as it release its poisonous stress into the atmosphere after absorbing much needed natural fluids to nourish itself. It helps the replenishment of the natural aquifers- and its many profligate river-beds. It's the humidity-slayer; for muggy days of unabated sun-rays directed upon our tender skins are washed away in just a day or night of a lengthy downpour.
Animals and mankind alike sleep stuporously through a rainy night as if the world was collectively anesthetized- all to wake up the next morning entirely rejuvenated- as if the world just a day before was a total drag. It makes the African wet season-its boisterous downpours particularly, somewhat of an ultimate hypnotic agent. The African rainy days- make lovers yearn to want to be home, but nowhere else- exlusively next to their love interests- cuddling, touching and impulsively making love to a steady music of drops of heavenly juice bouncing off corrugated roofing sheets. The African rainy nights instinctively weakens the defenses of hard-headed wives- those stubborn women whose weapon of choice to punish an errant hubby is the withholding of conjugal benefits- their own way of reminding the men they rule everywhere else-including the bedroom! It's as if these women were born with no souls- their collective sense of empathy accidentally or deliberately detached with the expendable placenta at birth! Of the most innocuous things to punish a man with- that shouldn't even factor within the heart of a woman- the universe's most dominant emblem of kindness; after all, the "milk of it, supposedly flow through them!"
Rainy nights does many things in such instance. One is that the keys to the crotch area suddenly goes missing- the usually "locked" legs suddenly opens at the man's slightest, but mischievous touch. The labia-the twin doors to paradise part away hydraulically- like the magical door of the mythical Ali Baba cave. The only difference, would be that- a smart man would sneak up on it without a whisper of "Open-Sesame", or the slightest disturbance of its peace. If the rain is heavy outside, well...the "doors of Paradise" could grant you entry into its inner-recess with hints of wetness too. It's a great possibility. Don't take my word for it! The African rain softens the hardest heart of a woman- just as it notoriously softens drylands suffering from extended periods of drought. It in turns fill the head of the man with luscious visions, to the point of helping to harden his own major member. It fills the woman's soul with indecisions- should I allow him in, or should I keep the fool out? It fills the man's soul with the gentle resolution- to forgo his manly pride and take what he's been consistently denied, but considers to be his very own! Sad that some.sex-starved husbands oftentimes don't make it past the tenth shaft strokes or less than those ridiculous fake pumps before ejaculating- thus flooding the sweet hole with his own milky-rain. It's the physiology of an hungry man at a Buffet table. His first plate, if he's not careful could be his last plate before his carefully nurtured hunger entirely dissipates. Shame that oftentimes the African rain- like its attending flood sweep in things wanted, and, or unwanted. Some babies have been documented to be byproducts of such rampaging flood too. One can see the African rain as God's own bedroom peacemaker.
And to you naughty kids- the African-rain makes corporal punishments harder to take- but easier to metabolize. So I advise that if you must take your lashes during a downpour, please take them stoically. Allow them count toward future good behavior boys and girls- for the sleep that follows an episode of an African ass-whooping was usually the best- quite unforgettable, and please correct me if I am wrong here. It's the classic analogy of dying and going before God. He throws open the secret doors of His secret chambers just for only you to take all in. He allows you play with all the wonderful kiddie toys in Heaven. He allows you the exclusive permission to pet the fiery horses that drew Elijah's Chariots of Fire without ever feeling their residual heat or getting burnt. He allows you view your emblazoned future in a close and quick-sweep- how glorious it could turn if you stay on course-on the narrow path of obedience and how awry it could abruptly end if you dance crazily to the beat of your own foolish drums. And through this heavenly odyssey- your ears are given inner strength to hear your own hefty, sleepy sighs- as loud and as clear as you've heard, many times- the intruding, scratchy noises of the pesky mouse running rampant in the food cupboard at the foot of your parents bed- the only furniture in a one-bedroom apartment hardly holding an infantry of five souls. Your chest pumps hard-up and down in mostly three quick flats- and not more than the fifth pump! That's the moment you are good to resume your ass-whooping-induced-dosage of a good night sleep. That's equal to the nanoseconds it'll take you to descend down to earth from your "heavenly" elevator.
By the early morning, all would have been forgiven- almost forgotten- till the transient pain from the welts on the fleshy backsides, quickly reminds of a previous night entirely gone sour. And till you step into the heavy muddy ground. If you happens to be deposited where good drainages are lacking- you are left to waddle like a duckling through clusters of puddles or high-racing flood water. It's nothing too difficult to navigate through- it's the African-Rain- we are used to it!
Odolaye Aremu
"We are like the rain- an equal opportunity element. The dew fall on the head it sees!"
Son! I love rainy-days! I love the impressionable fact- that the Big Man Upstairs frequently plants his feet apart on a hard ground, loosens His huge belt, and let loose His huge bladder to water His earthly gardens. It's a moment of freedom to take open shower by playful kids- as if that frivolity was some kind of physical ablution-such only dedicated to the cleansing of the body, but not touching the Soul. It feeds the joys of the green earth as it release its poisonous stress into the atmosphere after absorbing much needed natural fluids to nourish itself. It helps the replenishment of the natural aquifers- and its many profligate river-beds. It's the humidity-slayer; for muggy days of unabated sun-rays directed upon our tender skins are washed away in just a day or night of a lengthy downpour.
Animals and mankind alike sleep stuporously through a rainy night as if the world was collectively anesthetized- all to wake up the next morning entirely rejuvenated- as if the world just a day before was a total drag. It makes the African wet season-its boisterous downpours particularly, somewhat of an ultimate hypnotic agent. The African rainy days- make lovers yearn to want to be home, but nowhere else- exlusively next to their love interests- cuddling, touching and impulsively making love to a steady music of drops of heavenly juice bouncing off corrugated roofing sheets. The African rainy nights instinctively weakens the defenses of hard-headed wives- those stubborn women whose weapon of choice to punish an errant hubby is the withholding of conjugal benefits- their own way of reminding the men they rule everywhere else-including the bedroom! It's as if these women were born with no souls- their collective sense of empathy accidentally or deliberately detached with the expendable placenta at birth! Of the most innocuous things to punish a man with- that shouldn't even factor within the heart of a woman- the universe's most dominant emblem of kindness; after all, the "milk of it, supposedly flow through them!"
Rainy nights does many things in such instance. One is that the keys to the crotch area suddenly goes missing- the usually "locked" legs suddenly opens at the man's slightest, but mischievous touch. The labia-the twin doors to paradise part away hydraulically- like the magical door of the mythical Ali Baba cave. The only difference, would be that- a smart man would sneak up on it without a whisper of "Open-Sesame", or the slightest disturbance of its peace. If the rain is heavy outside, well...the "doors of Paradise" could grant you entry into its inner-recess with hints of wetness too. It's a great possibility. Don't take my word for it! The African rain softens the hardest heart of a woman- just as it notoriously softens drylands suffering from extended periods of drought. It in turns fill the head of the man with luscious visions, to the point of helping to harden his own major member. It fills the woman's soul with indecisions- should I allow him in, or should I keep the fool out? It fills the man's soul with the gentle resolution- to forgo his manly pride and take what he's been consistently denied, but considers to be his very own! Sad that some.sex-starved husbands oftentimes don't make it past the tenth shaft strokes or less than those ridiculous fake pumps before ejaculating- thus flooding the sweet hole with his own milky-rain. It's the physiology of an hungry man at a Buffet table. His first plate, if he's not careful could be his last plate before his carefully nurtured hunger entirely dissipates. Shame that oftentimes the African rain- like its attending flood sweep in things wanted, and, or unwanted. Some babies have been documented to be byproducts of such rampaging flood too. One can see the African rain as God's own bedroom peacemaker.
And to you naughty kids- the African-rain makes corporal punishments harder to take- but easier to metabolize. So I advise that if you must take your lashes during a downpour, please take them stoically. Allow them count toward future good behavior boys and girls- for the sleep that follows an episode of an African ass-whooping was usually the best- quite unforgettable, and please correct me if I am wrong here. It's the classic analogy of dying and going before God. He throws open the secret doors of His secret chambers just for only you to take all in. He allows you play with all the wonderful kiddie toys in Heaven. He allows you the exclusive permission to pet the fiery horses that drew Elijah's Chariots of Fire without ever feeling their residual heat or getting burnt. He allows you view your emblazoned future in a close and quick-sweep- how glorious it could turn if you stay on course-on the narrow path of obedience and how awry it could abruptly end if you dance crazily to the beat of your own foolish drums. And through this heavenly odyssey- your ears are given inner strength to hear your own hefty, sleepy sighs- as loud and as clear as you've heard, many times- the intruding, scratchy noises of the pesky mouse running rampant in the food cupboard at the foot of your parents bed- the only furniture in a one-bedroom apartment hardly holding an infantry of five souls. Your chest pumps hard-up and down in mostly three quick flats- and not more than the fifth pump! That's the moment you are good to resume your ass-whooping-induced-dosage of a good night sleep. That's equal to the nanoseconds it'll take you to descend down to earth from your "heavenly" elevator.
By the early morning, all would have been forgiven- almost forgotten- till the transient pain from the welts on the fleshy backsides, quickly reminds of a previous night entirely gone sour. And till you step into the heavy muddy ground. If you happens to be deposited where good drainages are lacking- you are left to waddle like a duckling through clusters of puddles or high-racing flood water. It's nothing too difficult to navigate through- it's the African-Rain- we are used to it!
Odolaye Aremu
Wednesday, 1 July 2015
Happy New Month
As you go through life and witness seconds evolve into years there comes a time when you finally realise that it is your responsibility to fix your life. Blaming your parents, teachers or governments will never solve the problem. Yes, I know you’ve suffered abuse, hatred and rejection; who has not suffered rejection? The world and its systems still reject God today. They reject you not because something is wrong with you but because they don’t have the capacity for you, they simply cannot contain you; the destiny you carry is too much for them. Talking trash about you testifies to the fact that they are blind to true greatness.
If you don’t like where you are today, you are one decision from where you want to be. Remember wherever your head turns, that’s where your focus is. Your feet can never take you where your mind has never been. You can never go up without elevating your thinking. Every single day you talk to yourself through thinking and meditation. What are you saying to yourself? Are you listening to your Maker or the media?
Philippians 4:8 The Message (MSG)....Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.
It is the dawn of a new month and a brand new opportunity to change your life. I decree and declare a new season. I see your sun rising from obscurity and I see God Himself going ahead of you to make this your best month ever. Glory be to God.
As you go through life and witness seconds evolve into years there comes a time when you finally realise that it is your responsibility to fix your life. Blaming your parents, teachers or governments will never solve the problem. Yes, I know you’ve suffered abuse, hatred and rejection; who has not suffered rejection? The world and its systems still reject God today. They reject you not because something is wrong with you but because they don’t have the capacity for you, they simply cannot contain you; the destiny you carry is too much for them. Talking trash about you testifies to the fact that they are blind to true greatness.
If you don’t like where you are today, you are one decision from where you want to be. Remember wherever your head turns, that’s where your focus is. Your feet can never take you where your mind has never been. You can never go up without elevating your thinking. Every single day you talk to yourself through thinking and meditation. What are you saying to yourself? Are you listening to your Maker or the media?
Philippians 4:8 The Message (MSG)....Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.
It is the dawn of a new month and a brand new opportunity to change your life. I decree and declare a new season. I see your sun rising from obscurity and I see God Himself going ahead of you to make this your best month ever. Glory be to God.
Sunday, 7 June 2015
God's Anonymity
Mo yika Otun, Mo yika Osi: The Godly Medley
(Roll way Right, Roll way Left.)
...of all of His Supernatural qualities, it's the magnificent aura of His anonymity that gets to me the most. I mean...the ability to put being 'definite' to shame is simply thrilling. The different illustrations of billions, to fruitfully capture or articulate the attributes of just an entity is awesome. It's the "neither-here-nor there factor." We've probably seen him 10,000 times in all the faces, cosmic flares, the constellation flairs, particles and vegetations we see in just a day; yet cannot suggest a color, hue, structure or features to adequately capture, define or describe Him. Any female type would be glad to feel she's the only one who knows Him best or sees Him the most. Certain men would want to be seen to be His truest buddy, they'll shamelessly drop His name all around in the bid to be tagged as the "Friends Of The Big Man". They want to be the middle men, by which messages back and forth; to and fro, to the Big Man flows like a rushing River.
Anonymity in itself is strength. It nullifies bragging. It beget depth with no end. A huge One-way mirror which bares all to one person only, and it keeps that One's truest form totally shaded from all. He knows himself/herself best, but sees all you ever thought to want to hide from all. He's stubborn to make sure "what you'll ever see is all you'll ever get!"
EDUMARE, IN HIS ANONYMITY IS AWESOME!
Odolaye Aremu
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