What it’s like to suck a dick from the back. How it feels to have two cocks in your pussy. The pros and cons of “paying for penis.” These are some of the more tepid topics that were touched on the first time I tuned into the Whoreible Decisions podcast.
The show is co-hosted by Mandii B and WeezyWTF, two longtime friends who don’t agree on much besides their love for sex and black people. The bisexual black women started the show in 2017 with an episode chronicling the time Weezy accompanied Mandii to the gyno to get a clingy condom plucked from her coochie. Since then, over the course of more than 50 episodes, the 27 year olds have covered everything from polyamory and pegging to the #MeToo movement and general sexual health. With tens of thousands of followers on social media, more than 80,000 streams a week, sold out live events, and their recent ascension to the hyped Loudspeaker Network, they’re quietly hosting one of the hottest podcasts on the internet.
The idea for Whoreible Decisions came to Weezy in 2016 when she was asked to guest star on the No Chaser podcast.
“I come into the recording session with a bag that had bondage tape, a collar, and a leash. I open it up and they’re looking at me like I’m crazy,” Weezy recalls to me inside the Downtown Manhattan studio where her and Mandii record Whoreibe Decisions. “The second we were done, they were like, ‘Yo, that was the most lit shit ever.’ When it came out, everybody loved it. They were getting crazy feedback. And I was like, I need a podcast of my own, but who else do I know? Who’s as much of a ho as me?”
“That’s what she says everytime she tells this story and I hate it,” Mandii interjects exasperated.
Their rise has certainly been fueled by their willingness to get nasty. But as salacious as the show is, it’s also lowkey radical. Representation is a crucial aspect of what they do. Though they both have one non-black parent, they staunchly identify as black women of colour in the media space.
“This is a black podcast,” Mandii says to me. “All of my friends are black. I go to black shit. I only take black dick. That’s literally all it is.”
“I’m more inclusive,” Weezy says. “But before any white boy fucks me, I have to know they’re down. I don’t play that shit on my Bumble profile. It clearly says #blacklivesmater. Swipe left if you’ve voted for Trump.”
Weezy and Mandii’s blackness is important because while cultural products like Sex and the City have allowed us to see white women who fuck as whole, unsullied people, America hasn’t granted that kind of humanity to black women. Instead, the media has long pushed a hypersexualized image of black women as a foil to the mythical purity of white ladies. To counteract these nasty stereotypes, black women have often tried to police themselves, contort themselves, and define themselves in their opposition to these racist and sexist portrayals—instead of just being themselves. Whoreible Decisions side steps that brutal binary through its intimate conversations about group sex between two attractive, smart black women who have corporate day jobs.
“You don’t have to hide who you are, who you like, what sex you like, what pleases you,” Mandii explains to me.
[However, both Weezy and Mandii do hide their identities out of fear that their explicit podcast might damage their professional careers in tech and finance, respectively. Because of this, we’re only referring to them by their aliases.]
Even the name of the show is about reframing the conversation around pleasure for women of color through reclamation. “‘Whoreible’ was not intended to talk shit about anybody," Weezy says to me. “It was just used to be ironic because Mandii and I have been called that so much.”
Of course, Whoreible Decisions isn’t the only podcast featuring black ladies talking about fucking. There’s the intersectional Inner Hoe Uprising, the humourous Sex with Strangers, the poetic The Sexually Liberated Woman, and a ton more floating around on SoundCloud, pushing sex positivity for people of color. What has helped set Whoreible Decisions apart from its peers is the contentious, yet tender friendship shared by Mandii B and WeezyWTF. Like sisters, they can be merciless towards each others—calling each other names and dragging each other for past failures. But underneath their bickering is a well of love that they’ve spent half their lives building.
Naturally, their friendship started with a fight in 2005 at a ratchet teen club in Orlando, Florida called the Roxy. Up until that scuffle, the 13 year olds hadn’t met in person because they went to different high schools. But they did talk mad shit to each other on AOL Instant Messenger and MySpace.
Their smouldering beef was sparked over a boy with a car. The 18-year-old dude in question stood over six feet, rocked braids, and talked with a New York accent, which according to them, was a hot commodity in Southern Florida back in the day. Weezy started dating the Big Apple transplant first. But then Mandii caught his attention and his affection. And so the battle lines were drawn. By the time the girls had finally run into each other at the Roxy, immersed in flashing lights and the booming sounds of crunk music, they were knucking, bucking, and ready to fight.
“Mandii likes to say she won the fight,” Weezy tells me. “But it wasn’t really a fight because security came... What happened was my ponytail got ripped out...”
“Oh yeah,” Mandii interjects, “All these years later, I do feel like I beat your ass because they was throwing your wig around the club.”
“It wasn’t a wig,” Weezy replies with a laugh. “It was a ponytail... And I got it back.”
While physical altercations are often the tale-tale sign of the end of a relationship, for Mandii and Weezy that fight was just the beginning. Eventually, Mandii reached out to Weezy by phone to apologize for the scalping, because, as she puts it, she is a “bigger person—in size and maturity.” On that fateful phone call, the fiesty girls found themselves bonding over one thing—the realization that the boy they’d both been pining for “wasn’t shit.”
Eventually, they decided to start hanging out as “young blossoming hos,” engaging in the kinds of antics and hijinks you’d expect from wayward women who are hungry for life and curious about sex. They hid their “ho clothes” until they were out of the sight of their parents. They got in the car with a “butch Asian chick who used to sell drugs” and drove for three hours to the Cheetah’s strip club in Miami, making out along the way, only to get rebuffed at the door for having fake IDs. And they kicked it with scores of boys: Jamaicans, skaters, gang bangers, athletes… Through all this running and gunning, they formed a real bond—despite the fact that they came from different sides of the tracks.
“Back in the day, Weezy thought she was New New. She had gold, Bape, and would even wear little pink and purple streaks in her hair,” Mandii reflects with a laugh.
Of course, that was a bit of a put on. Weezy grew up with money in Orlando. Her Israeli father owned a chain of camera stores and tourist shops and was heavily invested in the stock market.
When Mandi first saw Weezy’s crib, she was stunned. “It was so big! The biggest house in her neighborhood,” Mandi tells me. “She had a movie theater and a water fountain. Her stairs were like a red carpet, literally. There were mirrors all inside and her floors were marble. It was Victorian-esque—everything in the house was gold.”
Mandii, however, grew up in less opulent environs—the projects. She was raised in Oak Ridge and Pine Hills by her single, caucasian mother. “It was just a struggle,” she tells me. ”I’ve lived in a shelter. I was on food stamps, section 8. That’s how I was raised.”
With the stock market crash in the late 2000s, however, Weezy’s family’s fortunes changed. Her dad also had a stroke that made him incapable of working, forcing her and her black stay-at-home mother from Queens, New York to enter the workforce. “We lost everything,” she tells me, as if she is still stunned by it. Weezy tried her hand at community college, but eventually dropped out to focus on making money to help support her family.
Mandii also tried college. She graduated at the top of her class in high school and set out to attend Georgia St. University. But without guidance, she floundered financially. “No one in my family went to college, so I didn’t know how college was supposed to work out. I had $11,000 in financial aid and at orientation they’re like, Yeah, let us know how are you going to pay for the remaining $20,000 balance, because I was out of state. I was like, Fuck, I can’t afford that.”
As their lives were taking unexpected turns, the two young women fell out again. It happened on Weezy’s 21st birthday in 2012 at Cleo’s, a strip joint in Orlando. Social media drama between Mandii and one of Weezy’s friends led to a brawl. “To this day, I don’t know what it looked like because I was all up in this dude’s face and I was wondering why he wouldn’t even look at me. I turn around and there’s a table flying. It was fucking Mandii!” The spat put the best friends on opposite sides of a beef, causing a rift between the young women that would result in them not speaking for years.
During their time apart, both of them managed to really get their shit together. Mandii moved to New York City with $400 to her name and started working as a sports blogger, particularly focused on the debauchery of athletes. Her gossip site called Full Court Pumps started to garner notoriety for its intimate POV into the sports world and her book, called Up on Game, took it even further with stories of the “sexcapades and wild nights of… professional athletes.” She even tried her hand at podcasting, launching a short-lived program with former NFL linebacker LaMarr Woodley called LMT’s Point Taken Podcast. But the whole thing was cramping her social life. “I was in Vegas at Liquid at John Wall’s table and a girl goes to his cousin and is like, ‘That’s the blogger girl. Make sure she doesn’t take pictures.’ People didn’t trust me being around.”
She also began to realize that money in the blogging game was inconsistent. Determined not to retread to the poverty of her youth, she decided to go back to school and focus on something definitively lucrative—finance.
Even without a degree, Weezy managed to find her own professional success.
“I was working a retail job for a telecom brand in Florida, still taking care of my parents. But I climbed my way up the corporate ladder. They said, ‘We can move you to New York.’ So I left Florida in 2016. I loved it. Finally, I was making six figures.”
Though they were back in the same city, the two had yet to connect—until Mandii extended another olive branch. “Mandii sent me a message and said she was happy to see me doing well. I was like, ‘You know what why don’t we meet up and have a drink?’”
The two met at Serafina in Manhattan. And despite all the bullshit, they started back right where they had left off.
“That was the first time we had caught up in forever. She had a sugar daddy at the time. I had a sugar daddy, too. So we just talked about how we both had sugar daddies and then we realized that we both still liked sex, fun, guys... We still liked just living our lives,” Mandii says.
Three months later, the duo were recording those kinds of conversations as Whoreible Decisions. Their early recording sessions were done in a rinky dink booth on the Lower East Side that they rented for $30-an-hour. If you go back and listen to the first few episodes, you can hear them rushing to wrap up before going over their time. Mandii would edit all of the audio herself on a MacBook Pro that she got from one of her sugar daddies.
But despite the humble beginnings, it didn’t take long for them to start racking up streams on SoundCloud. In December 2017, they did their first live show at Projective Space in New York in front of a sold out 200-person audience with fans who traveled as far as London and Canada to see them in the flesh. Their recent guest appearance on Charlamagne Tha God and Andrew Schulz's Brilliant Idiots podcast in early April has racked up more than 200,000 streams already, and has introduced them to a whole new audience. And they’ve just surpassed the one million streams mark on their podcast.
In April, they also joined the Loudspeaker Network, which is the home of blockbuster podcasts like The Read and The Combat Jack Show. This transition has helped them upgrade to a new studio and given them a great deal more promotional power. The only real obstacle they have ahead of them now is getting along.
“We have different ideas of what fun is,” Mandii says. “I’m not going to a fucking warehouse party in Brooklyn with white people where there’s a sprinkle of black dudes to choose from who probably want a blond.”
“Who says I don’t like black people? … We just literally had to sign a partnership agreement at Panera bread to have someone who mediates between us when we start going off on each other like this,” says Weezy.
“Yeah, it’s cause she doesn’t know how to communicate,” interjects Mandii.
But despite their dust ups, at least they still see eye to eye on the important things—and that is what they want to share with young sexually active women.
“Own your sexuality for you—for your pleasure, for whatever you want. Self worth is a big deal,” Mandii tells me.
“That’s right. Yes, we talk about dirty things. Just hearing those things makes people think, You’re doing it because you want this man or this athlete. No! I like to fuck and other people do too. They just aint telling you.”
This story is a part of VICE's ongoing effort to highlight the contributions of black women around the globe who are making a difference. To read more stories about strong black women making history today, go here.
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This article originally appeared on VICE US.