Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I’m Pretty Sure She F*cked Me

I bet he's going to tell his boys that he beat it up.
Most men like to think they were the ones to lay the pipe on the chick, sorry to report, but that’s just not always the case. I can still remember sitting in my living room, my roommate entering the apartment and asking me why I was sitting there in gym shorts, staring at the wall, without the TV on. I couldn’t give him a response, but I just got up and took what would end up being one of the longest showers of my life. I scrubbed myself of the impurities that I had just encountered a few hours before. If I leave you with one thing today, be careful about asking women to take initiative, take it from me, you may unleash a beast of which cannot be tamed. Now if that’s your thing then cool, I’ll be honest with you, I’ve met women who are into being slapped around as they try and get away before you finally take them over, tie them up and give it to them hard. Personally, and I have a twinkle in my eye so call this the bitch in me, I’m not into play-rape games. Although I do sometimes want to freelance as a TSA airport security agent, gate rape is no joke. But I digress.

So how do you know if you just got f*cked, I can break this down like this;

He's the one who said he was a gigolo.
You’re a jumpoff and you just don’t know it.

One day my boy was telling me how everybody got a win last night. I wasn’t invited so my response was, “F*ck you, can’t call nobody.” He said it all happened kind of a sudden, some chick called him up and was like, “some of my homegirls are in town tonight and we trying to have fun, what’s good?” After they exchanged ideas about the night she was like, “You got some friends?” And that all led to a bunch of debauchery in his living room with him and these girls, again I wasn’t invited. I busted out laughing so hard it was almost insulting. I told him, “Do you realize that you are a jumpoff? They called you on the same bullshit we call these hoes on. ‘Yo, what’s good I got some boys in town we about to go out, you got some friends?’”

She tells you when y’all are going to meet up.

I humbly ask that you not admit me into “you are a bitch” status for what I’m about to tell you, but I think most of us have tried to make plans with a girl that we REALLY wanted to hang out with and she said, “Cool well I’ll let you know.” We took that ish and ran with it to mean, “Yes, I’d like to hang out with you and I’ll let you know when I’m free tonight.” We sat in our houses twiddling our thumbs until it got late and we send a text and she replies, “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.” Well, a lot of men done been put in this situation before and some of them even stay in that situation. They never get to dictate the pace, they always are at her beck and call. You know what, she’s f*cking you. She’s coming through when she wants to get what she wants whenever she wants it.

I guess I should talk about some more light hearted material…

If this ain't the jackpot, I don't know what is.
Jackpot Sex.

You ever been headed to the crib or to a hotel room with a chick that’s way out of your league. Like on any normal night that you go out, this girl would never in a million years choose you, but tonight! Tonight! She chose you and you’re not wasting anytime rushing into the end zone. Let me tell you something buddy, you are not Jon Blaze. Happens to men all the time, you get a little tipsy and then that 5 starts looking like a 10, and you just want to get a nut, so you went with it. That’s basically what happened to you on that night, you just happened to be in the right place and the right time. Yes, you got used.

Jay-Z ain't going to like this, but Terrence is #3.
Dirty Dancers.

You ever been in the middle of something with a chick and then she does something a little outside of your comfort zone, but you just go with it anyway. This can happen in many forms, sometimes a girl might pinch your nipples, but it’s not like sexual it’s more like she’s turning an old school television channel. You’re writhing in pain, but you look up at her and it kind of turns you on. This is almost like when a chick kisses you on the dance floor. You don’t really want everyone up in your business, and post-25, it’s really not the move to be tongue kissing in the club, but you know, shit happens. This chick is the one who breaks the rules and dares you to call shenanigans. She knows you won’t.

Maneaters.

This is the sigh of all sighs. Men have this ability to ignore all the signs of what a woman tells them. A woman can tell you on the third date, “If we have sex tonight, then I’m probably going to lose interest shortly thereafter.” Do men listen to this? Hell f*cking no. We go for it anyway, in our minds, “No sir! Not me! I’m double platinum just like my Ferrari!” After you do the deed and try to hit her up a few days later, she won’t return your texts … you go the EXTRA mile and actually call, but get voicemail. A few weeks later you see her out in the club and she’s with another dude. It’s at this point that you realize that this girl, “hit it and quit it.” This is why I always tell dudes to drink red bull before they have sex, you never know, a chick might break you off and cut you off.


Jesus...

She-Wolf.

Shakira and Adina Howard have taught us that you might bump into a woman who just wants it all the time, over and over again. Let me be honest with you, every now and then a man can go forever and ever, but I’ll be damned, some women have the sex drive of a rabbit. They have you pulling on your shorts like you have just played five back-to-back pickup basketball games, but your manhood won’t let you just own up to it and tap out. She’s the type who tackles you upon entering the house. She comes over your house to watch a “movie.” If you’re a real G, you just wacked off in the bathroom before she got there so you don’t have one in the chamber, but she showed up in a trenchcoat ready to WORK. She’s the type that you wake up in the middle of the night and she’s laying on top of you asshole naked. She’s the type to make you crash your car on I-95 because she goes after your junk for a rolling O while you’re driving. (It gets real funny when she rips open your jeans because they are button fly.) I joke about this all the time, but if there’s anything more powerful that hard d*ck, it’s wet p*ssy, ain’t no telling what can happen.

This has nothing to do with this, but it's a damn good picture.
Quick story and then I’ll leave you alone. Vegas is some shit. Some of the stuff that goes down in Vegas shouldn’t be discussed but I’ll tell you a quick story. So after a long night of partying, which began at the pool at about 10AM. Me and my boys we drank all day, there’s only but so much drinking one can do. We got the bright idea to go to Tao, but that wasn’t enough either, so we grab a limo and go to Spearmint Rhino, it’s about 6AM in the morning as we walk through the casino floor of our hotel we see some chicks taking shots at the bar. I’m thinking, “bitch it’s breakfast time,” but there is no time in Vegas. We went to the bar and tried to have some shots, but in the continuation of embarrassing moments, I was so throwed that my body rejected a shot of Patron and I just spit it out all over the place. These girls were bad, and when I say bad, I had this theory in my head that they had to be strippers or hookers, but they weren’t. In a drunken stupor, (as I plead the fifth and create a fictional part of the story to remove myself from it), I wander over to a slot machine (not a female) and I pass out. I wake up the next morning and I go back to our room. The place looks an absolute mess. One of my boys is sitting on the toilet, top down, with his pants around his ankles and his chin on his chest. And in what I never want to remember again, my boy is laying on the bed Amber Rose naked. There are no chicks in this room at this point. I wake up everyone and ask them to put some clothes on. “What happened last night?” I asked. And they told me a story that shall stay amongst us fellas, but it was one of legendary proportion. My response, “Damn we got to get up with those chicks again today, pool party or something, they were tough.” Suddenly, a sigh falls over the room and a voice says,

“One problem … we don’t know their names, we don’t have their number or any idea where they are actually staying.”

I’m pretty sure those chicks f*cked them.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Women Have To Learn to Lower Their Standards

Have you noticed that white girl has only dated a successful Black
executive and Mayor of Atlanta?  See what I mean about standards. 
Brian Palmer: We're Black, single, professional men. We, gentlemen, are the cream of the crop.
Terry White: No, let me break it down for you, man.
[points to Jackson and Derrick]
Terry White: *We* are the cream of the crop. *You* are the black, sticky shit on the bottom of the barrel!
(Source: The Brothers)

Over the weekend a friend of mine says, “That’s cause white girls are easy.”  And I look at her and I say, you have no basis to say that.  First of all, that’s racist as hell.  Second of all, no offense (and you know something offensive is coming), but have you ever heard Black women talk about the men they date?  It’s not anything to bash Black women, I kind of feel bad, but it just seems like Black women sometimes have to adopt an “Anything I Can Get” mentality.  I went on to say that in the last few weeks, I’ve known Black women who have dated; ex-convicts, men with no jobs, or less than adequate jobs, men with multiple children with different women, head cases on head cases, and even on the bus last night, a woman says, “When I met him at McDonald’s I thought he was the type of man I could talk to.”  And it dawned on me, that I’ve never heard white women talk like this about the men they date.  I can tell you right now, I know some white women who dated ex-convicts, men with no jobs and even a headcase.  And yes, you guessed it, all those men were Black.  And judging from the fact that Black women are the least likely to date outside their race, that should tell you something.

Do I think Black women have lower standards than other races?  Let me be clear, I don’t think that is the case.  I think that it comes down to the fact that women have to realistically align their expectations all the time.  Does this mean that they get desperate?  That’s a harsh way of putting it, but it’s just a numbers game.  I have a friend who refused to date a man with a kid.  At 21, that was okay, she found several men to date, but no ring.  At 25, she was viewed as being closed minded, but that was okay, she still found a good amount of men to date, but no ring.  Then at 30, she is viewed as being delusional and she can rarely find quality men to date who want to pursue a meaningful relationship with her.  The main guy she’s seeing right now has two daughters.  Two.  There goes that plan of refusal; her plan is now chilling with Elvis.

She needs to write a book, actually i'm going blog on this.
I always think there are multiple paths to the same goals.  For some people they marry for love and companionship.  If we could all be so lucky…  Other people want to marry for family, or they just want to be married.  It’s almost like people who follow their passion in life, versus those people who make the right decisions in order to be successful in life.  Think about it this way, a kid applies to Harvard and doesn’t get in, does he reapply next year, or does he just accept the offer for admission from Hobart and move on with his life?  Well, you probably never thought about relationships and especially marriage like that.  I’m sure that as little girls all these women had an idea of what their Prince Charming would look like.  However, as they got older, that began to change.  They should have known it was inevitable because once she stopped thinking that he had to be a Prince, it was all downhill from there.  Although, I will say this, Kate Middleton told herself that she would marry a prince and she held out for long enough to actually find one.  But for the rest of us outside of fairy tale land, we need to get on with life and that means, realigning our expectations. 

I hate to admit it, but look at how
they turned out. Persia can still get
it. Twice on Sunday, in the choir loft during
10:45 service too!
When she was 18 or 21, her Prince Charming was tall, dark, handsome, well educated, a God-fearing man, with a great job in finance, who had no kids or existing criminal record.  There’s actually nothing wrong with that set of expectations, she’s not being too selfish or gaudy with her demands.  But then life happens…  If I had a $1 for every time a girl said, “Yes, I PREFER a man over six feet tall, but if he’s not then that’s fine,” I’d be rich as Richie Porter.  I really don’t even have a good idea what expectations or preferences are when it comes to Black women anymore.  It’s like they have this list of things they would like to have, but in reality they end up having to accept less all the time.  The expectations are realigned with reality.  At 30, her husband is average height, light, racially ambiguously awkwardly looking, went to trade school and he works in plumbing which means he has not been to church in over 12 years – she love him though…

Becky (the stereotypical name for all white women, even though most of the Becky’s I know are Black) turns her nose up when a man doesn’t meet her expectations.  Ain’t nothing like the look on a white girl and her family when they find out the man they’re dating is an ignorant Black fool who has been lying about his life.  “Oh my god, he used to sell DRUGS?!”  Black women on the other hand, have you seen this dating pool they have to deal with?  Shits ridiculous, b.  Keisha (the stereotypical name for 95% of all Black women, even though Keisha is a popular stripper name for white women) met a guy in McDonald’s the other day, he had just gotten out of jail, had no money to get on the train, but he had ambition in his eyes and looked like he was ready to turn things around.

Keisha is going out with that guy later this week, she thought, “Why the hell not?!”  He’s taking her on a real date, although they will split everything down the middle at Chipotle and Cold Stone.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Kat Stacks and Her Amazing VJJ




Kat Stacks embodies everything we hate about women and everything we love about women at the same time. It’s a sign of indecision that a woman who has seized power in sleeping with men, rather than being deducted as the overpowered. So why do women hate this woman who doesn’t hate herself? There’s a short answer and there’s a long answer. The short answer is that deep down inside everyone wants to be Kat Stacks, since they can’t then… ooh she nasty.

For those of you who haven’t heard Kat Stacks is a Venezuelan chick who has made it big by confessing or claiming to have slept with several celebrities, mainly Young Money. In which she smashed the whole crew and Lil’ Wayne gave her $1200. She also hit off Nelly. But he called her up on the radio and had her stuttering like Usher. My my my… You should check out her blog, it’s really hilarious. Or stop being lazy and just google her.

Despite the fact that she uses the N word a little too much for my liking, I’m not able to hate on her as much as some of the public hates on her. I think something struck a chord with me, “A lot of you girls give it up for free, at least I get paid.” I’m so perplexed by this statement because a lot of girls do just give up the goods for free. We used to play that game in grade school where we would ask, “Would you sleep with X for $500, Would you sleep with X for $1 million, so how much would you sleep with X for?” And when the person replied, “Nothing” we would fall out laughing. But that’s really what goes on in this world these days. Women give it up for nothing, and then want to know why men don’t value it. But Kat’s on to something here…

Why were so many people up in arms about Kat Stacks smashing the homies, when Kat Stacks didn’t deny it, or feel bad about it? This is what I’m still waiting on an answer about. Is it that women don’t like when women promote loose behavior because it makes them all look bad? You know what looks bad? The fact that Kat Stacks got paid for smashing the homies, and you effed Ray-Ray’s broke a*s for free. I know it’s a couple people under the sight of this post who would smash Trey Songz and Chris Brown if they could. They would even do it in one fell swoop. And they would do it for free, but Kat Stacks did get a little money out of it. She also “allegedly” got a book deal and gets paid appearances at clubs now too.

Then I sat down and it got a little clearer, a lot of women let a boy beat for less, but not free. Women let a dude beat for a pair of shoes, an outfit, a drink, admission into the club, a ride to the club, a meal, or even just for association. I mean after all, at some point in your life you have to rationalize why you slept with old homeboy. They tell us dudes, “You paid for the p*ssy some way, somehow, but no p*ssy is free.” I didn’t believe that, but it’s true.

You know what else is true? It is a testament of our generation that someone such as Kat Stacks can be famous, or have some notoriety for her presence. Let’s keep in mind people that Kat Stacks only has one claim to fame, her vagina. A lot of women have been trying to make it in America off brains, wit, looks, or whatever is new this week and this girl made it off of vagina. I’m reminded of something a wise man once said to me, “Women don’t receive any credit for going to school or excelling in their career, it’s not required. A man’s plight in life is to provide for his family. So if she wants to do all that it’s cool, but it’s not required and thus I don’t applaud it. A man is going to take care of all that himself.”

My question to you is three-fold. Is a woman’s vagina that golden that she can use it to make it in this world? Should anyone be mad at Kat Stacks if Kat Stacks isn’t mad at herself? As the great Fatman Sccop asked you a few years ago, “Who f*cking tonight!?"

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Morning Mail - 6.22.11

Adam: [Calling Emma] You can't just suddenly call me and say you miss me!
Emma: I know...
Adam: No, do not call me to say you miss me. Do not text me, do not e-mail me... do not write it on my wall! If you really miss me, come here and tell me that!
(Source: No Strings Attached)

Do you ever think about the people who are coming out of long relationships and the effect it has on their lives? They say it takes about half of the time you were in a relationship to actually get over the relationship. I think about routine. For me, because we all define it differently, I would consider anything over six months to be a long relationship. The reason why I’ve defined it that way is because I think that after the third month of a relationship and your first big disagreement. A disagreement does not necessarily mean an argument, it could very well just be a line drawn in the sand. A disagreement does not even mean that both parties have actually came out and declared, “this was a disagreement.” But anyway, after about six months your relationships become “long.” The biggest flaw of a long relationship is the routine.

And that’s what I mean by the effect on someone’s life. You wake up one day and you are not in that relationship anymore. For some of us, we began our mornings with a phone call or a text to say good morning. For others, it was a kiss, a morning ritual of brushing our teeth, she ironed clothes and he put on a pot of coffee. He zipped her up and she straightened his tie. And then one day all that comes to an end and when you wake up you think to yourself, well what do I do. I thought about my recent dislocation of my finger, my left finger. One thing many people who don’t know me personally don’t know is that I have excellent hand and eye coordination. You know that scene in The Matrix where the cup of coffee falls off the table and he catches it. I’ve done that before in a meeting. In mid-conversation, a cup of coffee was knocked off the table and I caught it before it hit the ground. Much to the amazement of most people in the room, one of my closer work friends said, ”That’s because you used to play baseball.” And he was right.

When I dislocated my finger though, that quick reaction to use my left hand to do something was at first a painful experience. There were a few dropped items that cause me a great deal of pain because I had gotten so used to just catching things right away once they fell. I had to learn that I didn’t have the luxury of that hand anymore, or wouldn’t for a while. I had to train my reflex system to react differently. This is much like after a break up. Now you have to put on that cup of coffee and iron your own shirt by yourself. It’s rough, and daunting. And sometimes, we’d chose to be with someone in an unhealthy situation rather than having to completely start our lives over from scratch. The one thing I think people miss the most often is the companionship; the closeness of being with someone that you can talk to all the time. Enjoying their thoughts, and they enjoying yours. Nobody makes it too far in a relationship without communication. Do you know how hard it is to find someone that you can communicate with, and actually want to communicate with regularly? Almost impossible. Personally, after a breakup I kind of miss the “Fairy Godmother” the most. The fact that there’s someone who knows exactly how you like something and even if you’re not there, they can ensure that things are carried out exactly how you want them.

I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I thought about these things. I thought about some of my friends who have recently gone through breakups and how they’ve had to change their routine. They sometimes tell me about their mornings, and I’m amazed at how much detail they put into it, but I remember, “They’re just learning to take new steps.” I had a conversation with a old friend and she was telling me all of these things about the person she was becoming. It was so detailed; she wanted no drama and so she’s been reading a book on a drama-free life, and how she’s been hitting the gym and she’d like to get into training, so she’s going to go back to school for exercise science, and she joined this club, and she doesn’t go to these types of places, and prefers these types of places, and she just went on and on. I thought to myself, “Why is she telling me all of this?” Then it struck me, she had recently gotten out of a relationship at age 25 that she had been in since freshman year of college. My friend was having to rebuild the very essence of herself, something that had never been done before since she was tied down at such a young age. I thought about this as we talked, and then I did what any other man would do with a woman. Start at the beginning and ask for details. “What book is that? And who is the author? I may have read it.”

Until tomorrow.

Life is good. God is good.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

25 Random Questions with @MiaIneedher

Keeping my inappropriate comment to myself to keep from getting hit.
I'm younger than Mia, but I met her in the summer of 02.  Right from jump, I was like, "yo this girl is something else."  I prayed to God for a few nights too about her, but this ain't bout that right now.  When you look back and you realize you known someone for nine years and you still bang with them, 100, you know that's a person worth keeping in your life.  Everything about her is boss.  We got battle wounds together from f*cked up circumstance in NYC nightspots, and we been there to witness some crazy ish between women, and she probably remembers more than I do, because I was more than likely sleep in the club, or sleepwalking in the club.  Anyway, this is my homegirl Mia, the latest and my comments are as always in italics.

1. Tell me about yourself.

I go by Mia Anita. I’ll be 27 on the 27th of this month with a basic chart of Rising= Scorpio, Sun=Cancer, Moon = Gemini. I’m an only child. Born and raised in Los Angeles. I’m an astrology buff. I love to write. I’m in my 2nd year of grad school. I was raised by my great-grandmother, then grandparents. I’m determined, passionate and resilient. I’ve been told I come across intimidating but I say I just have a good radar for people. I’ve been extremely blessed in life. I’m an old soul who’s really been here before. I love New York, D.C., Paris and wonder women from Wet Willies. I’m a rational, mastermind. I’m fun-loving. And I’m on a quest to learn and experience all life has to offer.

2. What’s your favorite movie?

Clueless – Renaissance Man – Brown Sugar – Jackson 5 – Elizabeth 1 – Napoleon Dynamite – Sister Act 2 – Crash – Forest Gump – The Nutcracker –Contact - Sandlot and ANYTHING with Larry David.

3. As a child, what was your favorite thing to do during recess?

Elementary = play on the swings, double dutch and flip on the bars (with the jacket around the bar so you could flip forwards and backwards non-stop);
Middle School= sit far far away from everybody else (I HATED middle school, omg);
High School = Play swoop and tag with friends, and chill on the stage;
College= Sleep.

FYI - Recess doesn’t officially stop until you have to be at work all day to make the dividends.

4. Have you ever second guessed yourself?

Tell me about it. Indeed!!.Recently I decided to start my own business. I had an opportunity to pursue a dream and still manage to survive financially. Thing is, I’ve never seen entrepreneurship first-hand so I resisted for about a week or so. Filled with doubt, questions and fear, however the universe put absolute strangers in my life to push me towards where I needed to be. I’ll be launching in a week and I’m thankful because of it. I’m now facing another decision of whether or not I should invest in something and because I’ve never seen it done before quite like this, I’m questioning myself every day of whether I should take this risk and spend more money on something with potential or play it safe and not. I still haven’t made a decision, but I’m hoping whatever decision I make it will all work out in the end.

5. Peanut Butter. Chunky or Creamy?

Peter Pan Extrafied Chunky (I’m nervous about the comment to follow).  (#speechless)

6. Middle of the night or Morning sex?

5 o’clock in the mownin’ where you gonna be?

7. When you hold hands with a guy do you lock fingers?

Of course, otherwise it’s just a low-five. (This might be the best answer i've ever heard.)

8. Do you prefer to wear heels or sneakers?

Flip Flops and sandals. I’m from L.A. however my closet houses 80% of elevated footwear. I’ve never owned a pair of Jordans and I floss my L.A. Gears every chance I get.

9. Will you watch baseball, and iron out a quickie during the seventh inning stretch?

That’s 1 sport you really won’t find me watching… soooooooooooo……

10. Do you ever feel like you want to move to get away from family, or are you a family person to the heart?

Hek Yes! I’m trying to move come first of 2012… family is only a phone call or plane ride away, but I’ve never stayed in 1 spot too long anyway so a different location doesn’t phase me. I love the “idea” of family but my life has proven that family doesn’t necessarily mean blood, so for me family means people who show love and care and with that, my family spans from West Los Angeles to East New York.  (You always have to be careful when someone from LA says the word, Blood, you're just never sure what she means exactly.)

11. What’s the most uncomfortable thing you’ve ever had to tell a man?

1, 2, 3, 4, FIF. That one was really bad, I’m actually still uncomfortable about it to this day. Memories can be a bear mountain!

12. Are you a dark or light liquor girl?

The Real World with the help of my bro and bottles of Eastside Juice (E&J) have made me Dark. Pre-2006, it was patron, everclear, devil’s springs and ciroc ALL DAY ERRRR DAY.  (Damn yo, we used to get it in back in the day, just remembered all that light, now i'm dark too.  BUT White Remy coming out in two WEEKS!)

13. If you hadn’t voted for Obama, who would you have voted for?

Myself and VP- Charlie Wilson. No other candidates seemed more worthy. (Now i'm mad you didn't run.)

14. What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

God’s love shown through individuals in the Earth realm like my great-grandmother Irma L. Cooper and R.N.W.

15. You’re tired after a long day but your man is horny. The cooch or the smooch?

Every day is diff-er-ent.

16. Best gift you’ve ever received? Given?

Received – Life;
Given – I honestly can’t say, I have no idea. I spent a lot of time and energy creating a bday gift for someone but I think I was more pumped about it than they were. WOMP!

17. Hair pulled or ass smacked?

Hair. Smacking is for gum and baby food.

18. What’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever done in bed?

Probably pee’ed in it when I was little… (I hollered.)

19. Big, small or not at all wedding?

Literally, up until 3 weeks ago, it was str8 to the courthouse for me but I’m now leaning towards a very small, intimate ceremony with no more than 40 guests, IF THAT, in the backyard of our new house! POW!

20. How do you feel about Kobe Bryant?

I don’t, he’s weak sauce. I respect his game but that’s it. Now his wife Vanessa… WTH, who told her wearing tutu’s to games was the l-i-q?

Kobe messed her up though.
21. If paid, would you strip in a rich man's living room for a living?

Rich is not exciting. But I’d do a full on 8 count of choreography in the den of a wealthy man’s mansion for some change. I’m just sayin’…

22. In high school, where did you see yourself in life?

Happy and without a care in the world besides winning games, goin’ to Roscoes and then getting into a college far away from L.A. In high school, I was actually very arrogant, cocky and described by folks I had never met as a “Bitch.” And looking back I low key was. I really did NOT care about anything or anybody except my friends. I was free and did what I wanted to do. I handled my grades and balanced sports and academics so I was straight. I saw myself as someone who went with the flow, offered a lot and lived life one day at a time. The only thing I planned were my outfits for the next day with my best friends. High school for me really levels off with college in terms of great times had in my life.

23. What’s your favorite thing to do for your man?

Pamper him and specifically cook, because I know that means a lot to him.

24. Where do you see yourself in five years?

HAPPY! Living in my house with my husband, dogs and rabbit; running my/our businesses; donating to non-profs. who work to end homelessness in Los Angeles; getting ready for kids; playing how I want to play and NOT living in California.  (Now when you say, Rabbit, aw nevermind.)

25. What are your words to live by?

1. Do first and apologize later.
2. Nothing is possible without faith, love and action and nothing is impossible when done through GOD.

Thanks J!

Let’s get social…
Twitter - @MiaIneedher
Facebook – MiaAnita27
Business: http://www.closetcollectionintl.com/ 
Photographer: http://miaanita.com/
Blogs – http://www.thestyledit.com/ and http://hello--foto.blogspot.com/

Monday, June 20, 2011

Morning Mail - 6.20.11 (HBO vs. Showtime)

Dexter Morgan: I love Halloween. The one time of year when everyone wears a mask... not just me. People think it's fun to pretend you're a monster. Me, I spend my life pretending I'm not. Brother, friend, boyfriend - All part of my costume collection. Some people might call me a fraud. Let's see if it will fit. I prefer to think of myself as a master of disguise.
(Source: Dexter)

Showtime is better than HBO. It just is. I’ll put it to you like this; one time me and my friend were talking about Penelope Cruz’s best movies and she said, Volver. And I replied, it’s actually, Non Ti Muovere. She had this screwed up look on her face and I said, well I know why you said Volver, it’s the one movie she’s done that had the most critical acclaim and you probably were able to see that movie around the time of the Academy Awards. But, Non Ti Muovere, meaning, Don’t Move was her best movie. Her acting was superb, the plot was out of this world and the writing was much better. But you know what the point was? She had never seen it, so she went with the more popular movie.

Now, here’s something worth noting, these are the five reasons why people think HBO is better than Showtime, or at least these are five observations about those people:

1) They don’t have Showtime – This is usually why people don’t think Showtime is nice. But that’s like those people who never listened to a “down south” rapper and they kept calling Lil’ Wayne trash. Listen to me right now, most people still wrote him off when he dropped Tha Carter II, they never listened to an album, they were like, “down south rap is trash.” Then he had one hot verse on Touch It or Not and people went back and actually listened to his music and they were like, “Oh shit, this dude is nice. He gonna challenge Jay one day.”

2) They are mainstream heads – Most HBO shows appeal to mainstream America, and people sleep on the fact that HBO has a bigger budget than Showtime. They can’t see that though. The Marketing budget at HBO is probably bigger than the GDP of most small countries, but nobody sees that.

3) They like what everyone else likes – If everyone is tweeting about True Blood, then naturally you don’t want to be left out, so you take a look yourself. I did myself and I was like, “has anybody noticed how much this show sucks ass?” The plot is predictable, it’s homoerotica at it’s best, the acting sucks, the hands down worst southern accents I’ve ever heard in my life, trust me on that, man let me stop because I know some people like True Blood like Twilight.

4) They don’t pay attention to detail – If you pay close attention to detail, you will be able to watch a show and see the script. Do you know why Entourage is such a good show? Has nothing to do with the writing or quality of the show. It’s because everybody wants to live that life. But pay close attention to the plot of Entourage and you can pretty much predict the entire season from the time you get to Episode 3. And not for nothing, but in the last two seasons the story has just been blah. Meanwhile, you can’t name a bad season of Dexter, you just can’t. Every show on HBO has a season or two that you’re just like, man… this was wack.

5) Hype Williams fans – You know Hype Williams is a great music video director, but you know what makes Hype Williams so great. His appreciation for the visuals. Think about it, Belly was a dumb as shit, but because some shit was glowing in the dark and on fire, people loved the shit out of it. You know why? Because they like fire and explosions, and if it’s got a lot of it, you can cover up a plot with it. It’s called, Bells and Whistles.

I did a quick search and man I found some shows that used to come on Showtime and/or still do and I was like, those shows are GREAT, HBO has some good shows, not trying to say they suck, but the quality is not GREAT. Check this out:

Red Shoe Diaries – Can you imagine what a sleepover would have been like in your youth if cats didn’t have this show?
Big Brother After Dark – Because you always was like, I bet they be f*cking when the cameras not on. Well they turned them back on.
The L Word – Mad men I know wanted to bang Shane one time, mention this show to anyone and they will immediately have to bow down.
Nurse Jackie – This is a crazy ass show that only works because it’s great writing.
Californication – Hands down the best show on premium television, if you don’t watch, start now.
Weeds – Might be the third best show on premium television.
Shameless – This was a very good show, great acting in its first year and great writing, check it out. Very realistic representation of an alcoholic in urban America.
DEXTER – Bitches love Dexter.
The AVN Awards – Shut all the way up.
Dead Like Me – Great.
The Tudors – Great.
Secret Diary – Great. If you’re not watching this show, then you’re missing out.
Queer as Folk – Need I say it again?

If I get a television show, which is a dream of mine, but I need to move my ass to California and work on my script writing instead of bullshitting around on the East Coast beating my meat to soft porn called the Fortune 500, um… yeah, it will be on Showtime.

And I’ve just won the award for longest run-on sentence in a Comedy/Drama series on the Internet.

#endrant

Friday, June 17, 2011

Those Girls Wasn't Working Out for Me

This shit is just hilarious to me. Found it after the post was wrote.
There was this time in my life when things just started making sense for me. I wasn’t that old, the epiphany came in maybe the 6th or 7th grade, and of course a change of scenery helped to smooth over the transition. It was the moment that I realized that it probably wasn’t going to work out for me if I didn’t start exploring some other options in the dating world. You see, I’ve got this theory about dating. It’s held true up until this point, but here’s the theory: your environment combined with your level of insanity determines who you date. I know y’all don’t understand what I’m saying so let me break it down, in fact, I don’t have to do that, I’ll put it to you like this. Most Black women like Black men right? Now, most Black people roll together in the same circles, so their dating pool is typically Black men, but you have to ask, “How long do you stick it out with Black men before you look elsewhere?”

#MILK
The first person that comes to mind is Halle Berry. She dated a Black dude, he hit her with a baseball bat. She dated another Black dude, he hit her so hard she went deaf. She dated ANOTHER Black dude, he hit everything but her. She told us like George Bush told me, “f*ck you n*ggas I’m outta here” and went and got a white dude and she been shining ever since. However, we all know that Halle is a crazy bitch. And that’s why she put up with all those Black men in Hollywood for so long. She was doing Black movies and the people she dated were popular Black celebrities, but once all that craziness ran out and she was ready for a family she let that shit go and found a white man.

I got a point I’m trying to make.

A few things happened to me along the way that made me sure that I wasn’t supposed to only date Black women:

1. They used to terrorize me as a child – As a child, as a young boy, women grow faster than boys, yeah, okay I get that. But when I think about all the bullies in my neighborhood from when I was growing up, they were Black girls. I won’t holler their names individually because they might be reading, but there was one named Cassandra. She lived across the street. This girl would come all the way to play with us, just to push me around. Another named Krystal, she was just mean and bossy for no reason. She was like the rang leader, the Angelica of the bunch, but she always chose me to pick on.

2. I was short and skinny – Nobody likes short and skinny. Maybe some dudes are into that. I know mad dudes who are into petite women. But from the age of birth until my growth spurt, that shit was not in. It was the fat kid at dodge ball out. It happened early and there was no stopping it. I have been cute my whole life, and it bugged the hell out of me because cute ain’t hot shit in real life. And so yeah, for most of my developmental years, I was told by most Black women, that they weren’t into short and skinny. (I got that 6 inch growth spurt tho…)

3. I was outspoken – I never been the type to hold my tongue, and as I progressed into my older years, I found that by arguing a lot with women you will always find yourself out of favor. I have always had strong opinions and I’ve never been able to hold my tongue. I compared most women to the women I knew. And the thing is I grew up around a bunch of phenomenal women, so I thought that most women wasn’t shit because compared to them, they wasn’t shit.

4. I didn’t want to talk to them – I remember when this happened too. It was around the time when girls started developing and personalities came into play. There was the basketball court, and like I told my boy the other day, “I never took to basketball because it was always a lot of yelling and arguing.” Then there were the girls who were watching the game and they seemed to be just as loud as the basketball game. I decided to take my ass over to the soccer field and play that. Less arguing, and no intentional fouling because I was smaller than everyone else. But then I noticed that girls used to sit out on the field during recess, in circles, just enjoying the weather and talking about nothing. You know it wasn’t no Black girls in the sun, Black women and shade are #LIKETHISSON! But anyway, I just never wanted to talk to those girls because they were so loud and seemed like they had an attitude problem. (This was a sample, not saying all Black girls were like this.)

5. They made it clear that they didn’t want to be with me – I was 11 years old the first time someone said to me, “You look like you date white girls.” I was sure that Waiting to Exhale had something to do with that shit. By the time I was 13, my girlfriend was Bolivian. When we broke up, I had a crush on a Black girl, and her hair was pink … I don’t know what I was thinking either. She finally settled down, with a guy whose name was not Jackson. By the time I got out of college it was no surprise when I tried to get in a conversation with a group of Black women about interracial dating and they said, “Whatever n*gga, you don’t date Black girls.” Point of information, my girlfriend at the time was Black. She might have been two shades lighter than off white, but she was Black. But anyway, I guess word got out that I didn’t like Black women, and they all stopped talking to me. They made no attempts to see me romantically and this purgatory lasted for about “long enough for me to move the f*ck on.”

6. Everything else just fell into place – I have never had problems dating people. I’m actually very good at it. Never, not once, did I have a problem, but it seemed like when I was dating outside of my race, it just fell into place. I didn’t have anyone taking out their anger on me. I didn’t have to deal with constant complaining. By the time I realized I had been dating interracially, I had already done it for maybe 8 years. Put it like this, I had no clue how big interracial dating was and these are the races of my first eight girlfriends that I can remember: Bolivian, Guatemalan, Black, Liberian, Guatemalan (yeah, she was pesky, I’ll come back to this), Dominican, Guatemalan, Dominican. It don’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that maybe I got a type.

If you dating outside your race, always make
sure that your shoes are always untied.
7. I never felt bad about it – You know how when a guy is walking down the street with a woman outside his race and he sees other women of his race, he does something to distance himself from the woman he’s with. Yeah, I never did that. In my mind, here was my logic; date women who are so beautiful that no matter who sees you with them, they think she’s a very beautiful girl. Sorry if I was na├»ve for thinking that, I’ve noticed some wincing in the past, but that’s just how I roll. Some guys sit and think if they are doing something wrong by dating outside their race, and I tell all those guys, if you’re having that conversation then you probably shouldn’t be doing it.

8. My momma said the shit was okay – My first crush in first grade was this Columbian girl at my elementary school, my mother sighed, but she knew what was up. It was an all Black school, like I said, she knew what was up. So at a young age my mother had to make some choices, she could either tell me why I should choose a Black girl instead of that girl, or she could say, “Who you love is who you love, just make sure they not wack.” I made up the last part, but still she told me that it didn’t matter who I dated as long as I was happy. I was 6 at the time.

9. My daddy said the shit was okay – My dad asked me one time why I never brought any Black girls over to the house and I said, “I don’t know I been focused on other things.” Yeah, I was in a two year relationship at the time. He asked me that when I had just started bringing girls around the house, period. What was I supposed to say? Oh yeah, let me start bringing some Black girls around the house just for you Dad. Thing is though, he asked me that once. Of course later, I would bring several Black girls around and so he began to learn that I ain’t have a complex or nothing, but then one day on a fishing trip we got to talking about life and shit. I shared with him my frustrations with dating, mainly how you shouldn’t chase after women who aren’t chasing after you, and why I choose to date women who are arguing with me all the time and know how to sit still and stop talking. He responded, “I can see why you date who you date now, and that’s alright man, just make sure they not wack.”

10. I tried, and I failed countless times – I swear to you, I’ve never approached dating like it was the grocery store. I didn’t go to the white section and pick out a bag of women, or head to the Black section and get a few sisters. I took the game as it came to me. And when everybody told me they didn’t think the chick was a good fit for me, I gave it a valiant try. I tried and it just never worked out. Either it was bad timing, or I liked someone else better, or it was clashing personalities, or I liked someone else better, or they got married because I was bullshitting around, or I liked someone else better. One time, I thought she was going to get pregnant and my mother was going to kill me, which put me in a place where I had to start making decisions about who was going to live and die. Needless to say, I tried, didn’t work out, not banging my head against the wall, I’d rather continue to take the game as it comes to me.

Go ahead, you can still this. It's probably
the hottest and most realest thing i've seen this year.
(I just left that incorrect spelling in there to
 prove a point, Mika know what's up tho.)
Didn’t think I’d have ten reasons why I chose to not only date Black women. But pay close attention to my wording. I said, not only. I never said, I don’t date Black women. There’s guys who date only Black women, and then there’s guys who don’t date them at all. Point of clarification: They might f*ck Black women, but they don’t date them. Lot of people get that mixed up. Same actually goes for a lot of Black men who f*ck white women, but they don’t date them. But somewhere in the middle are the guys who think to themselves, “I’m not going to stress myself out over the color of her skin.” I’m going to raise my kids this way too. They probably gonna be mixed and I ain’t got nothing to do with that, but I never agreed with telling your kids what to do or not do, I only do like my daddy told me, “use good judgment.” And this is my judgment, the ass in me says (pause), “back then didn’t want me, now I’m hot they all on me,” the more mature in me says, “I think everybody should do what works best for them.”

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

The Last 30 Minutes of Work – 6.15.11

Do you remember back in grade school when you first started being able to talk on the phone at night? Do you remember how you had multiple people you would be talking to at one time? I still think back to those times when it could be about 12 or 13 of us on the phone. How many times did you have to say, “I already used my three-way to call you”? And remember your friend who didn’t have three-way or call waiting? Why would someone do that to their child? That was just mean. Anyway, in grade school that was basically our happy hour. Before our parents got home or after we got done with homework, the first thing we wanted to do was socialize.

Put a pin in that for a second.

In my days in school we had one way of getting in contact with people, AIM. If it wasn’t word of mouth then it was at home at your computer on AOL Instant Messenger. (It was always funny because there was always one or two fights because someone wouldn’t turn their sound off on their AIM chat and somebody was trying to sleep.) Some people spent all their time on AIM to the point that it distracted them from their studies. But possibly the most efficient use of AIM, “hollering at hoes.” You could have so many different chat conversations going at the same time. How many times can I say, “sup?” tonight and get away with it? Probably at least 24 times. The plan was, work your AIM game all week long and then after the party on Friday, head back to your room and then AIM chat a few chicks and see if they wanted to chill. (This was a sign that the phone was going out the window soon, but we never saw it that way.) But, what happened when you asked to go over seven girls place, and two said, “yes.”

Stop chatting, and the next morning say, “My bad I fell asleep.”

Put a pin in that for a second.

The kids nowadays have text messages to do basically the same thing we did with AIM. They have it easy, they can do that same mass messaging to people at the same time the party ends. But essentially everyone does this now, because I know that we do it in the club, so I’m pretty sure from club to prom people are using text messaging to set up plans for later.

Why was I thinking about all of this today? Oh because it’s simple. Most people in college and high school, don’t use gchat as much as working professional. And you know what we use gchat to do that’s related to this? Set up happy hour plans. How many times have you spent an afternoon chatting as many people as possible to secure happy hour plans? Yeah, that’s crazy right, you can practically hit up everyone you know in your are for happy in one window and at the same time.

Men and women do this very differently though. Men pretty much all they want is to go somewhere where they can get a few drinks and be in the company of fine women. They’ll pretty much go anywhere if you can meet their requirements list. And for men it’s about securing a plan, and once they do, they take it. Women though? Nope, I’m on to their game. They basically sit there all day and take offers for happy hour. They take application after application, they pick through them, screening each to see what’s the best one for them on that particular day. They’ve taken the whole system of AIM, text messaging and gchat and they’ve made a system out of it. You can talk to her through planning a whole plan out for happy hour and then you know what she says,

“OK, well I’ll let you know what I end up getting into.”

And now you’re in limbo for hours wondering if you actually have plans or not. Sigh, not me, no sir, I’m on to the shenanigans! I didn’t actually pick up on this about happy hour. I sat there and watched some of my female friends evaluate their options for going out one night. I was looking at the television, perfectly content in a night of Rock Band and I listened to how these girls weighed their options over this place and that place.

“Well, he said he can get us in for free right now.”
“Well, ask him if he has a table.”
“What if we go here first, and then hit them up.”
“Stop replying to him, when we get to the first place, then tell him, we’re just getting dressed.”

This is also the first time I learned that it really doesn’t take women four hours to have dinner. It takes about two and a half, it just takes them four hours to figure out what their plans are for tonight. Sigh, I digress.

I guess the point I am trying to make is, to the guys; when you have a plan, just go with it. Plan your night out for yourself and how you can have the most fun. If you have to deal with this crap, you’ll always end up losing and trying to figure out how your night could have been better. Here’s what I do, don’t plan your night around women. There’s always going to be women out and about at any place you go to. You’re actually going to have more fun if you don’t have to stick with one group of girls for the whole night.

To the women, we’re onto your scent and closing in, hide ya lace fronts!

Monday, June 13, 2011

Cause It's Summertime! 7 Things I Love About Summer

Whenever this song would play an older guy
would insist on playing, Summer Madness.
People gathered by the fire hydrant on the corner as we waited for the fireman to open the hydrant so we could get some relief from the heat. Where I’m from kids had to play, we didn’t have the option to sit in the house during the summer. As soon as breakfast was over, somebody knocked on the door and said, “Can Jackson come out and play?” Man, remember when we used to play? Not play video games, but just genuine playing. I think back to what it meant to play group hide and go seek, or ride bikes. But on this day, the temperature was reaching 100 degrees quick, we had our super soakers ready and we were going to make the best of this hot day. Keep in mind this might be the only time you see 5 or 6 boys sitting next to each other eating on Big Icees, those were what life was about on a hot summer day. We were having the time of our lives.

Every summer there was a new song that came out and we held onto it until the end of the summer. We spent the time we had to eat dinner in the crib recording the same songs on cassette tapes, the more times you had the same song on a tape made it easier to remember the music. The year 1994, and you had to know all the words to the music:

Them calls me the funkdafied, funkalistic, vocalistic
with the real shit, we got the shit you can't funk wit
(Why?!) Because we so funkdafied
(Why?!) We make you move from side to side
Well, it's da G H da E T T O, [remember when songs had a random sound byte like a ding dong?]
Brat and J.D. comin' like that big baby
So lay back and listen as I catch up on my pimpin'
And freak this dust just like Ashford and Simpson
(Source: Da Brat - Funkdafied) 

4th of July weekend was about fireworks, but it was also time for everyone to catch the new Blockbuster. We begged for money, or scraped up whatever money we could find and then we would catch the metro over to the mall. For those of us in DC, that place was Beltway Plaza, unless I was hanging out with my cousins and in that case we went to Iverson Mall. The mall was like the club for kids. We couldn’t do much of anything else, but at the mall we could congregate. Playing games like little boys to see who could get the most numbers before we went into the movies. Just so everybody know, at this point and time, there was no stadium seating at the theater and the matinee ticket cost $3.50 at AMC.

Captain Steven Hiller: [talking to the unconscious alien he's dragging] Y'know, this was supposed to be my weekend off, but noooo. You got me out here draggin' your heavy ass through the burnin' desert with your dreadlocks stickin' out the back of my parachute. You gotta come down here with an attitude, actin' all big and bad...
Captain Steven Hiller: and what the hell is that smell? [starts kicking the alien, yelling]
Captain Steven Hiller: I could've been at a barbecue! [kicks the alien one last time and calms down]
Captain Steven Hiller: But I ain't mad.
(Source: Independence Day)

Still remember the day my mother came home and found me in the laundry room with a pair of scissors, some rubber bands and some bleach. I had decided to take my jeans and make shorts. But I also wanted them to have a bleach stain to them and have holes everywhere. My mother was so upset, she had paid good money for those jeans. I’ll tell you right now, it probably wouldn’t have been such a problem, but Iceberg Jeans was pretty expensive back in the day. But anyway there was always something special about the way people dressed in the summer. My particular favorite back in the day was a shorty in some Capri pants and some sandals with the straps going all the way up her ankle to the shin. Looking back I have no clue what they hell I found attractive about that.

You know I don't need a reason to put a NuNu pic.
My grandmother used to joke with me that I didn’t tan, I windburned because the first sight of a strong wind and some sun and I was Blacker than Chris Rock in CB4. But that just came on account of how much time we spent outside during the summer in the blazing heat with no sunblock on. I don’t even think I found out what sunblock was until I met some white people. I just didn’t ever interact with that shit growing up. You know what we called sunblock back in the day? The pool. We spent hours upon hours at the pool. Cannonballs and can openers, just trying to learn to dive. Remember the first time you tried to do a somersault and busted your ass?

Rashad: [chuckling] New New.
New New: What's so funny?
Rashad: What kind of name is New New, anyway?
New New: I'm New New cause I always rock the new, new shit. Thank you.
Rashad: Well, I heard you and you homegirls don't buy none of that new, new shit.
New New: Whatever.
(Source: ATL)

It's Electric!
Can’t forget about the block party. Whatever you do, do not forget about the block party. Wasn’t nothing like a good old fashioned block party. Kids racing bikes up and down the street. One time we were racing bikes and I got cut off by a friend and leaned into a neighbors car door with my bike. My mother wanted to whip my ass because she had to pay for that. At the block party was where most kids learned how to electric slide. No matter what you were doing, you stopped it and got involved. I remember every guy had a little improvisation when he stepped back doing the electric slide. My best friend’s dad would always cook a pig. A whole pig, and while that sounded disgusting, with the amount of beer and vinegar that was in that pig, kids were a little tipsy but we couldn’t stop eating it all day long.

No swimming trunks, and I still got my draws on, what!
Now looking back at those times, I realize that life was simple. Things have gotten considerably different for all of us. We don’t see each other as often, even though, we’re all still in DC, our lives just take us different ways. Still when I go back to visit my grandmother and I see one of my childhood friends either washing their car, or just hanging on the block, we stop and chill for a second. My boys’ favorite thing to do is to ask me, “Young, why you sound like you from New York now?” I quickly fix it up and go back to my DC accent. As we get ready for summer, take time to think back to your childhood and the memories that you had.

Life is good. God is good.

I’m about to go jump in the pool!

Friday, June 10, 2011

Why You So Mad Though?


I guess some of the material that I populate the internet with could be construed as inciting riots or just a bunch of women who want to burn shit. Sigh… that’s probably fairly accurate for the most part. I prefer to call it Ratchet Music. It’s pretty obvious that I don’t hate women because if I did hate women, why would I love them so. But anyway, here’s what I really think; I think that’s it’s confusing that my articles can cause someone so much anger or move people the way they do. (You can never tell someone they’re mad, they’ll argue to the death, “I’m not mad” “I’m not upset” “I’m not disappointed” … I usually just say “Well, you feel a certain way dammit, five minutes ago you were happy and now you’re not, so call it what you want.”) I actually think I have a good idea why they get like this too.

People view it as an attack

There are some people who just disagree for the cause. Have you ever had a friend who fought with you even though they weren’t actually in the situation? That’s how some women are, they are intending on fighting all battles against women. Men do this too, I don’t always write about women, contrary to belief. I just don’t get the need to so defensive all the time. At the end of the day, most of my conversations end like this, “Would you agree that although you and all your friends don’t do this, it is actually a real issue that is happening?” You’d be surprised, that’s usually when I can tell that someone is full of shit, because they’ll try and tell me that they’ve never witnessed any ratchet behavior. “All the Black women I know don’t do that Dr. J!” Yes, then I remember that this is the internet and most people who read blogs don’t actually interact with people outside of the internet, so all the Black people they know is a loaded statement.

People see a part of themselves, but don’t relate to any other parts of the article

Now who said that my articles were all encompassing? Have you ever thought that maybe the article was written in a way to reach several people instead of just one? What an idea!!! I usually make about 6-7 points in each article I post. Now if 2 of 6 pertain to you and the other 4 do not, I don’t care about an argument about how you can’t relate to the post or how you vehemently disagree. In my head, I’m thinking, “the only reason this makes you mad is because something rubbed you the wrong way.” But peep, I didn’t say, “all” of it rubbed you the wrong way.

People don’t see anything in themselves from the article and get upset that the spotlight is not on them

I’m going to trick you with what I’m about to say but people have this weird reaction to the spotlight not being on them. They don’t want you to think they are completely obsessed with themselves, and they aren’t. But they just get tired of either the upper echlon or the lower echelon being the one to get the spotlight. Really? I just wrote a post about basic broads and people got upset. Really? I wrote a post about ugly chicks who think they’re bad and people got upset. I even wrote a post about pretty women who have the best shot at getting married. The thing is people just want someone to say, “here’s a post about all the regular people … those people who go to work and do their job and never complain about shit.”

People see that the article is about them 100%

If I get one more email that says, “What’s wrong with a girl with a kid?” Listen, there’s nothing wrong with a woman with a kid, there’s something wrong with bad mothers and bad fathers. And even if there’s nothing wrong with the woman with a kid, it’s definitely something that you have to think about. But nevertheless, people see that the article is about them and then they see the recommendation or the fact that they’re being talked about and they say, “Shit I ain’t trying to have to do all that.” Yeah, because nobody wants to do the work to fix their problems or issues. They want to be left alone in whatever place they live.

Point is, that’s the reason why people get so upset. There is discourse, and discourse is encouraged. But when people are “moved” I am left wondering, “Why you so mad though?” And “mad” is disguised in many forms and fashions. Sometimes people act like they aren’t paying you any mind, but we know, we ALL know, that you mad. Your temperature is rising, and while you won’t speak in all CAPS, it has moved you. I am not a misogynist, neither do I hate women or Black people, I just try and write real shit to real readers, and I expect that people respect that.

"I spit real shit, so I must be an asshole." - Childish Gambino

Thursday, June 9, 2011

I Feel Sorry For Women


She didn't even suck her teeth, she took to the ground and gave herself a hug.
I had this conversation with this guy one time and I told him, “Have normal sex, dude.  You don’t want to be like one of these old ass politicians who they find cheating on his wife with some dominatrix, meanwhile this man has an apple in his mouth and a diaper on.  Because he just had to keep pushing the limit.”  But that got me to thinking about some other things.  Like real talk, I feel sorry for women and their sex lives.  Personal story, one time I took my mirror off my wall, and put it on the ground then I got in the pushup position and looked at the mirror.  (That sentence had the potential to go TWSS quick.)  Anyway, I looked into the mirror and I said to myself, “So that’s what you look like.  Damn I’m good looking.”  Almost immediately after that, I started to think of all the women who had to break their man, or a man, off a piece and looked up and really didn’t like what they saw.  Like either he was ugly, or fat, or sweating, any of that shit, I ain’t really trying to get my visual of that, but you get the picture.  It can be rough for a woman in the streets.

As a man though, you’ll never have to worry about doing something that causes you question your morals.  I think one time in my life did I have to question my morals and that was because this chick came over to my house and took out a belt.  As I’m thinking, does she want me to whip her ass with this shit, she said, “Now choke me.”  I had this vision of her dying and me trying to explain how that shit happened and I looked at her and said, “F*ck no.”  And that was about the closest I’ve ever came to losing my morals.  Wait, that same chick asked me to slap her across the face … and after I did it, she said, “Harder, stop being a p*ssy!”  (Side note, remember when BIG said, “So after I shits on the bitch”?)  What it really comes down to is this, in order to please a woman you might have pull something, smack something, call her a few names or stick a thumb in the outhole.  That’s about as far as it goes!  But if you’re a woman, you better prepare yourself for the worst.

Thought for sure the Asian girl would be a freak.
I found out that this is actually myth.
In this world, I don’t make the rules but I will tell you this, there are some sick f*cks out there called men.  I think I told you guys about this before but I’m at happy hour with a friend and she tells me that her ex-boyfriend was a little too much into anal play.  Whoa buddy, what?  Yeah, you read that correctly.  I just can’t imagine how that goes down either like, seriously, is she down there giving him a tutorial when he goes, “can you slip your finger in my ass?”  Does he whisper it?  Does he yell it?  And most importantly, when does it he say this?  Does he tell you beforehand or right before he is about to blow a load?  That’s a real key question in all of this.  Forget about him for a second, but imagine that you’re a woman and your man just said this … the first thing on your mind is, “This fool is gay as shit.”  But you can’t say that, you can think it, but you can't say it.  (And don’t get offended because I said “gay.” I didn’t mean that to offend anyone, I meant that as in a man who has sex with other men, inside or outside of a jail.  If you’re in jail and you’re having sex with men, your ass is gay.)  Anyway, that can be really tragic for a woman to deal with, but you know what, she got to take her finger, lick it and stick it in his ass like it was macaroni.  The whole time she’s thinking, “Good job, Jenn you really know how to pick them.”

Still scared of this b*tch.
Talked about this earlier, but just to go back to it, there are men who are into role playing.  My favorite game of role play is “bag the bad bitch.”   And yes, that is probably offensive, but that’s the name of my favorite role playing game, so I can’t call it what I want.  Basically, this is how it go, you let your lady dress up so hot it’s like the summer quit on her she was so hot, she goes out before you, then after getting attention from a few guys, you show up and bag her and take her home.  That’s my role playing game though.  It’s guys out there taking it way too far.  I seen an episode of Secret Diary of a Call Girl, (don’t judge me assholes, that’s a show with great writing), and this one guy demands to be treated like a baby.  Like he put on a diaper, broke out a pacifier and demanded to be treated like a baby.  I’m thinking to myself, now at least this is a prostitute, but there are some pathetic women somewhere in the UK or US whose husband is actually into this shit.  And that’s giving new meaning to the phrase, “my baby.”  You think that’s extreme don’t you?  Yeah, you ain’t heard of nothing yet.  I was watching Californication a few seasons ago and this chick punched Hank in the face as she was about to come.  I told my boy about that and he was like, “Yo.. dead ass try that, it’s a good look.”  I looked at this sick f*ck like, “Get the f*ck out my house.”  But think about that, you’re riding your man and he goes, punch me in the face as hard as you can.  CLOSED FIST.  Once again, the woman is thinking to herself, “You sure do know how to pick them.”

And not for nothing let’s list all the things that women have to do that kind of is messed up:

He done put her fine ass thru so much
she wearing tutus to games. Her kids
gotta ask, "Mommy, where the f*ck you think
you going dressed like that?"
Swallow or spit.  Spitters is for quitters, but the point is, that’s some crazy shit.  You wouldn’t let someone pee in your mouth, but you’ll let a man come in your mouth.  But you know what, the shit is like flowers.  Personally, I don’t care for flowers, but I know that other men have started giving flowers, so I got to do the shit too.  That’s what it’s like for women and swallowing.  I know you probably don’t like it, but it’s the industry standard.

Backdoor Policies.  If you want to get a good laugh, even if you’re not serious about it, jokingly say to your lady, “hey we should try anal.”  You have to sell it though, so wait until it’s a nice romantic evening or something.  When she starts giving you a list of rules, bust out laughing because you know that she done had to come up with some rules because some shit went down the wrong way the last time she let a dude back there.  Kobe!

No call and no come.  Men are some funny individuals, but perhaps the most effed up thing in the world that women have to put up with is when a man gets his and she doesn’t get hers.  How many women are having sex with their husbands tonight and he will bust a nut and she will just have some sex?  That shit don’t make no sense to me.  That’s like people who say, “I don’t care about winning or losing, I just like to play the game.”  Eff. That.  The goal is the nut, it’s actually not only the goal, it’s the instigator, motivation and the reward of sex.  The simple fact that women have gotten used to not coming is just pathetic.  You have to say stupid shit to yourself like, “I just don’t come from sex.”  That’s a freaking lie, I won’t call her out, but a girl told me that one time, I told her to go find a man to f*ck her like a virgin ... she came fo’ times.  But the point is, I feel sorry that so many women lay down for sex and get up with no reward.

You see?  It’s all messed up in the game.  I can’t call it.  I feel sorry for women because they have to put up with that crap.  It’s like you found a man who loves you, and will take care of you, won’t cheat on you all that much, comes home with his paycheck and whatnot and then what happens?  He goes, “baby have you ever tried a strap-on?”  Now you shaking your head at your man like, “Great job Jenn, you sure do know how to pick them.”  Shiiiit, and people say you shouldn’t talk about sex on the first date; read this article a few more times today and I bet you’ll have a bunch of questions to ask the next time you go out with a guy.