EAST COAST CRITICS ARE BIASED: A THOROUGH TAKE ON HIP-HOP, POLITICS, AND POPULAR CULTURE
Monday, April 06, 2009
Under The Right Circumstances, A Successful Black Man Will Always Cheat On A Black Woman. (Part 1)
Black men probably won't be too thrilled with this one.
It won't even matter that what I am about to divulge, over this post and the next one, while seemingly breaking the code of silence, is actually meant to finally start a conversation between "successful" Black men and women, that, in my hopes, will go a long way in terms of relieving a lot of the tension that currently exists between the two.
This divulsion will in no way "enlighten" Black women as to what's going on inside the mind of every successful Black man - well, I take that back, because in some naive Black women, it actually might. I simply hesitate to say that all, or even most Black women will be enlightened by what I have to say, because the only way in which one can ever be enlightened by a revelation, is to have failed to recognize its existence in the first place.
Put otherwise, this divulsion is meant for no other reason than to take Black women out of the nonsensical matrix that they currently choose to live in, only to get "angry" when the truth of the world slaps them right in their fucking face, time and time again. "The truth" being in reference to the moment that they find out that their man has fucked (or is currently fucking) another woman.
So that to Black men's understandable dismay, this post and the next one will divulge to Black women the reasons as to why he fucked her, and, all the more importantly, as to why he'd do it again if he was certain that he wouldn't get caught. Moreover, this two-part series of posts will collaterally address the fact that when it comes to the issue of successful Black men and the concept of fidelity, Black women have shied away from the concept of “reality” in favor of this insanely optimistic, shit-filled, axiomatic "belief": "That, somewhere out there, there is a successful Black man who is ready for a full-on committed relationship, who will under no circumstances ever cheat on me."
The fact that 95% of Black women believe that stupid shit has worked to cause a lot of the tension that currently exists between successful Black men and women. Where I will not argue with the fact that there are successful Black men out there who are ready for a one-on-one relationship (in that they do not desire to have three wives), for a Black woman (and, Black women en masse) to take the extra step and whole-heartedly believe that there is a successful Black man out there who will, under no circumstances, ever step outside of his relationship with her - that, is categorically retarded. Because as anyone who seriously reads this two-part series of posts will be able to tell you, the truth of the world is that: under the right circumstances, a successful Black man will always step outside of his relationship to have sex with another woman, if he deems the other woman to be “worth it,” and, most importantly, if he is certain that he will not be caught.
Before we delve into my discussion, however, I need to set out the controlling factors so as to prevent Black women from bombarding my AOL account (yet again) with what they believe to be "exceptions" to the irrefutable rule that I am about to provide.
This two-part series of posts applies only to "successful" Black men.
Therefore, a definition of "successful" will be helpful. In the Black community, at least, "successful" has come to be defined as, "athlete," "actor," "singer," "rapper," "doctor," "lawyer," "journalist," "engineer," "financial something or other" (yes, even in this economy), "grad student," "college student with realistic aspirations that he is currently working towards," and "Barack Obama." I'm sure that I left some out, but, for what it's worth, and, as you'll see later on in this post, all of the "successful" positions within the Black community can be grouped and ranked into about five categories or so. But we'll deal with that then.
This two-part series of posts applies only to "attractive" successful Black men.
Black women, after you've read these posts, please spare me with the, "But my parents have been married for 34 years, and I know that my father has never cheated on my mother." Because should you write me some stupid shit like that, I won't even respond, due to the fact that:
(1) You can never know what another human being is capable of. As so masterfully displayed in "The Good Son," a human being can do whatever the hell it is that he or she wants to do. Now, it's understandable that you may hope another human being refrains from engaging in certain activities, but, once that human being makes up his or her mind to do something, what the fuck can you do about it? Nothing.
(2) If your father is/was attractive (and successful), then, 9.9 times out of 10, he cheated on your mother at some point. Hence, the reason that I decided to write this post. However, with respect to the .1% chance that your attractive, successful father did not cheat on your mother, this two-part series of posts will provide an explanation or two as to why he did not. And typically, any explanation as to why .1% of attractive, successful Black men do not cheat, will focus more so on their lack of the opportunityto do so rather than on any lack of a desire to have sex with another woman in the first place.
For example, if, for argument’s sake, your father never cheated on your mother, it’s not because he never desired to have sex with another woman, it’s because more likely than not, he simply lacked the confidence within himself to do so. Some examples being:
Maybe he has an embarrassingly small penis.
Maybe he suffers from a tortuous inability to “get it up.”
Maybe he can never go more than three pumps before ejaculating all over himself.
So that although your father wanted to have sex with other women, and would have if he knew that gossipy Black women around town wouldn’t be “putting his business out there like that,” he purposely avoided any and all situations with women that could have escalated into opportunities for sex - no different than that of the character that Steve Carrell played in “The Forty-Year-Old Virgin.”
(3) If your father was not attractive, then, common-sensically, very few people aside from your mother were trying to fuck him anyway.
Therefore, it follows that scenarios (2) and (3) fail to undercut my argument in any significant way, because my argument is that if an attractive, successful Black man has the opportunity to cheat, with a woman who he deems to be “worth it,” and he is certain that he will not get caught, then, he will cheat. Period.
This two-part series of posts assumes that successful Black men who cheat on their partners are in no way unhappy with any aspect of their relationship.
Whenever (“scandalous”) Black women fuck around with a married man, or, a man who is involved in a relationship, the first thing that they run back and tell their girlfriends is that, "His girl clearly must not be doing something for him, because otherwise, he wouldn't be fucking with me!"
Wrong.
That he's fucking with her may have to do with the fact that she's licking his ass and his wife isn't, but, that's not the argument that I'm making here. The argument that I am making, and, what every attractive, successful Black man will agree to, is that even in the perfect relationship, where an attractive, successful Black man’s woman is unquestionably pleasing him in every conceivable way - both physically and emotionally - he will still cheat on her so long as the woman who he is cheating with is "worth it" and he is certain that he will not be caught.
So, without further adieu, the rest of this post, and all of the next one, will explain to you why I am undeniably right.
It must first be accepted that Black men's intellectual shortcomings have left Black women feeling as though they're smarter than they actually are.
"All these niggas are either gay, in prison, or not doing shit." - Black women
Well, not all of us, but, sadly, a hefty proportion of us are. However, let me make this clear one more time - that proportion of Black men is not the proportion of Black men that I am dealing with in this two-part series of posts. To say it for the last time, I am dealing with the proportion of Black men who have been coined "successful." Nevertheless, because successful Black men are in such short supply in our community, for a whole host of reasons that I’m not going to readdress in these posts, Black women admittedly have to "settle" in relationships at about ten times the rate of successful Black men. In fact, I take that back. Successful Black men don't ever have to "settle." The numbers are simply on their (our) side - as I will explain later.
Anyway, the point that I'm attempting to make, is that often times, when Black women actually have the opportunity to deal with a man who is on, or - as I have been to Black women in many of my prior relationships - above their heightened intellectual level, it's hard for them to deal with that intellectual equality because they have grown so accustomed to always being the smartest one in their relationships. And all of that stems from the fact that over the course of their lives, Black women have become accustomed to being the only Black person (of either gender) in their all-white upper level or AP classes, their all-white academically-centered extracurricular activities, and their all-white offices (be it as an intern or as an actual employee). Therefore, what happens, is that Black women, through no fault of their own, internalize the "fact" that they are smarter than any Black man who they come into contact with, and, even more foolishly, that in the realm of any disagreement that they have with a Black man, that their beliefs must be "right" as compared to his.
But you know, having done this law school thing for the last few years, I have become a firm believer in the fact that you can never have the "right" answer until someone else - with the credibility to do so - tells you that you're "wrong." Only then do you have the opportunity to strengthen and sharpen your convictions as to why you are right. And, if after you have tried your damndest to bring the "wrong" person over to your side, it's at those times that you will every now and again, come to find that it was YOU who was wrong in the first place.
But don't take my word for it. You can see this theory in action when you look at Obama. Unlike Bush, who insulated himself within a bubble of fucking idiots who refused to ever challenge him, Obama - particularly seen with his pick of Biden - has placed people around him who will actually tell him he's wrong when they think his ass is wrong. And only at that point, can Obama critically evaluate his initial convictions in order to see if they were right or not.
Well, analogously, with respect to Black women's dealings with today's Black men - the majority of whom "aren't doing shit" as they like to say - Black women have insulated themselves within a Bush bubble. Because with their generally higher intellectual capacities, they have grown accustomed to insecure, intellectually ill-prepared Black men failing to ever credibly challenge their problematic conclusions and beliefs.
Because Black women are unequivocally convinced that they are smarter than Black men, they will refuse to credit one Black man's inner-knowledge about another, if that knowledge conflicts with something that they believe (or hope) to be to the contrary.
Which, is even more retarded than their illusory belief in the attractive, successful, non-cheating Black man who is currently "out there” somewhere.
You see, whenever I ask a Black woman for advice on how to handle a situation with another Black woman, without fail, I will always take her word as bond. And why wouldn't I? Certainly a Black woman is in the best position to know what another Black woman is thinking. So that to tell her that she's wrong, or that she doesn't know what she's talking about when it comes to the thoughts of other Black women, would be tantamount to telling a drop of rain that it doesn't know shit about the clouds.
Nevertheless, whenever I try to let a Black woman know exactly what it is that Black men are thinking, should that insight be contrary to whatever she has erroneously preconceived in her own mind about Black men, then, she’ll discredit my insight without a second thought. Because in her (“intellectually superior”) mind, whatever it is that I’ve divulged about Black men applies only to me. And even at that, I'm either "wrong," "too young," "not ready for a real relationship," or "too pessimistic" for my insight to ever be correct. Illogically, to her, my 26 years of living on Earth as a Black male means nothing! My inner-understanding of the Black man's mind, and, most importantly, its approach to Black women, means nothing. My two college degrees - one of which is in Sociology for God's sake! - mean nothing. The law degree that I'll have next month means nothing. To sum it up, if Black women don't want to believe it, then, it’s wrong. Period.
This idiotic phenomenon, however, is critical to answering the question of why it is that Black men lie to Black women so often (e.g., Black Woman: "If you’re cheating on me, just tell me; it will be okay." Inside The Black Man’s Mind At This Very Point: "Bitch, whatever. You ain’t gonna fool me into getting the house and the kids off my confession. You better come at me with something a little more conclusive."). Because as successful Black men are fond of saying in our clandestine conversations, "A Black woman ain't tryna hear the truth. She tryna hear what she tryna hear."
So, for all of those Black women who are content with “hearing what they want to hear,” and living within their own personal Matrix, then, it’s probably best to stop reading now. Yet, for all of those Black women who are ready to take the red pill and who are truly ready for the truth of what is inside the Black man’s mind when it comes to infidelity, then, please, continue on…
As an initial premise, it must be understood that, yes, “it does all feel the same.”
"Only thing better than some pussy, is some new pussy." - Quentin in "The Best Man"
Be that as it may, the question that Black women need to start asking themselves, is why? Why is new pussy so good? Understandably, Black women's approach to this question is at a distinct disadvantage, because even Snoop from "The Wire" could never know what the inside of a vagina feels like to a penis. In the past, in fact, women have even asked me, "What does it feel like in there?" And in my head, I always answer, "It feels the same as it did with the woman who I was with with before you."
Because unlike women's experiences with the variety of penises out there, I pretty much know what to expect as a thong slides down a set of thighs; and if what I see looks or smells any different from that of what I'm used to, then, I can guarantee you that I don't want it. Bluntly put, when it comes to vaginas, the fact that your vagina looks like the vagina on the woman who I was with before you, is actually a good thing. So that when girls hypothesize to themselves, "Doesn't it all feel the same?," the answer is yes.
However, the fact that all vaginas feel the same in no way implies that every woman’s sex is the same.
For example, I recognize that some vaginas are wetter than others. However, I take women at their word when they say that the level of liquidity is a direct reflection of who is fucking them, and, more importantly, how they are being fucked. So that some vaginas may be wetter than others is irrelevant to this discussion, because a successful Black man who knows how to properly fuck a Black woman will come to assume that all vaginas are dripping wet, and vice versa for the Black man who doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing when he slides into some p-u-s-s-y. Either which way, both the successful Black man who knows how to fuck, and the one who does not, will still cheat; and that is the only point that I am making in this two-part series of posts.
Furthermore, I also recognize that some women can use their vaginas better than others (in other words, some of y’all can fuck, and a bunch of you can’t). So as an aside Black women, please stop fooling yourselves, because although our society places so much (in fact, all of the) pressure on the man when it comes to the issue of “performance,” trust me, there’s a bunch of you out there who can’t fuck to save your life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you can open your legs, or bend over, but for many of you, that’s about the peak of your skills.
For instance, most of you can’t suck a dick to save your life. I mean, you can put your mouth around it, but can a hefty percentage of you honestly say that you know what the area between your man’s asshole and the back of his balls tastes like?
In addition to that, many of you can’t ride a dick like you’re supposed to. Sure, you can sit on it and move your hips around, but you can’t ride that shit in a manner that will keep your man from trying to find the bitch who makes him fear that his dick will break off while she’s on top of him.
And finally, even though a good many of you Black women reading this have a fat ass, do you seriously believe that letting your man “hit it from the back” means just bending over? If so, your man is definitely out there looking for another fat ass to slide into. Because for a Black man, “hitting it from the back” means so much more. First, it means that you are going to do your part to hold your ass up in the air, because nothing makes a Black man want to cheat more than when his woman gets lazy and can’t hold her ass up in the air. A Black woman laying on her stomach is not a Black man “hitting it from the back.” That’s a Black man fighting gravity while trying to bust a nut. Moreover, “hitting it from the back” does not mean that you are just sitting there with your ass up in the air. It means that you are occasionally “bringing it back” on your man, and letting him know that you are into it. Because if he feels that you’re not, then, he could have just put on some Pinky, grabbed a bottle of Lubriderm, and fucked his hand - without all of the hassle that comes from worrying about pleasing you.
So that in sum, if a Black woman isn’t sucking her man’s dick like she’s supposed to, isn’t riding her man’s dick like she’s supposed to, isn’t bringing it back on her man like she’s supposed to, isn’t being as nasty as she’s supposed to (is her man busting a nut on her breasts while her tongue is in his ass???), and isn’t giving her man the sexual experience that Pinky gave Justin Slayer (***don't click on this if you are at work***), then, yes, without a doubt, her successful Black man will be out there trying to find another woman (be she Black, Brown, White, or Yellow) who will.
HOWEVER, that fact is irrelevant to the ultimate point that I am making. Because my point is that even if a Black woman is giving her successful Black man the best sexual experience that he could ever desire, he will still cheat on her. Regardless of how happy - both physically and emotionally - he is in the relationship with his partner.
For successful Black men, after a certain point, sex isn't about "sex" anymore. It's about...
Ego!
For men, and, in particular, successful Black men, sex is about ego, and nothing more. Understandably though, this “revelation” may be difficult for some Black women to put their heads around, simply because Black women and successful Black men came up in contrasting circumstances.
As Chris Rock so eloquently put in “Bigger and Blacker,” for women, from about the age of 13, every man who they’ve ever met has been trying to fuck them. Therefore, that giddy feeling that teenaged girls used to get when boys were drooling all over them at North Dekalb Mall wore off a long time ago. Black women have simply grown accustomed to the fact that on any given day, at any given time, they can get fucked by a man if they want to. Inherently, it follows that Black women don’t measure their ego by the amount of men who they can convince to fuck them - because given the opportunity, they could fuck the entire male population of Earth if they so chose.
Black men didn’t come up like that though, and, for what it’s worth, regardless of what I wrote in “Before Successful Black Men Became Gods,” successful Black men still don’t have it like Black women. Even a Black man of Kobe Bryant’s status will run into a woman here and there who doesn’t want to fuck him (cough, cough). So that in short (because I will explain it in depth in the next post), everytime a successful Black man slides into a Black woman and he hears that initial “moan,” he gets the same giddy feeling that teenaged girls used to get in North Dekalb Mall after 46 boys had begged them for their number. In fact, at the point of that initial “moan,” the successful Black man’s ego reaches a point of fulfillment that will remain unmatched until he hears another woman sigh that initial moan; hence, “the only thing better than some pussy, is some new pussy.” But again, hold tight, because I’ll discuss this concept in greater detail in the next post.
Unlike successful Black men, Black women measure their egos by comparing themselves to other Black women, which, in turn, makes it very difficult (in fact, next to impossible) for the egotistical Black man to remain faithful in a relationship.
"A man can stop chasing pussy, but, even that requires some counseling. When pussy chases a man, he simply can't run that fast." - Paraphrasing Chris Rock from "Bigger and Blacker"
Fact: A Black woman gets "dressed up" when she heads out to “the spot” in order to attract successful Black men. However, we all know that that is not her sole focus, because it is a categorical fact that men (of any race) could give a shit less about what a woman wears. So long as she smells nice, looks clean, and has a natural beauty to herself, then, she can get fucked - period. Nevertheless, a nice dress that accentuates certain aspects of her body can definitely help her to stand out in a crowd, which would thereby help her to attract even MORE successful Black men. And her attracting a greater number of successful Black men - even though in theory, she only needs one good one - serves to drive other Black women crazy with envy. And Black women, from what quite a few of your counterparts have divulged to me, the envy that one Black woman feels from another (or from a bunch of others) is a feeling that can only be eclipsed by an orgasm.
And y’all know I’m not lying.
Black women - egotistical as they are (for all of the reasons discussed previously in this post) - hate to see a successful Black man who they are attracted to out with another beautiful Black woman. Because from what my Black women sources have divulged to me, such a scene arouses the Black woman’s ever-present insecurities, which never fail to bring about the common and recurring two questions: (1) “How did she get him?,” and (2) "What does she have that I don't have?”
And at that very point, generally speaking, successful Black men who are in relationships start to get tested by other women who are trying to figure out “what’s so great” about their girlfriend/fiancée/wife. For instance, everytime that Cute Face and I go out, in between every guy in “the spot” burning a hole through her with their eyes, every chance that they get, it never fails that at some point throughout that night, a Black woman will try me. Be it a couple of innocuous occurrences of the “stare game,” which, is what happens most often, to flirting with me while I stand in line to go to the bathroom or at some other point when I’m not in Cute Face’s presence, all the way up to the more serious violation of mouthing shit to me from a distance everytime that Cute Face looks away - as she sits there right next to me! Contrast that to those “guys night out” kind of nights, when you don’t show up to “the spot” with a beautiful woman on your arm; you almost have to hit these bitches upside the head with a bottle of Hennessy just to get them to step out of your path, because the phrase “excuse me” coming out of a single man’s mouth will trigger nothing but attitude from a Black woman.
That to say, that without question, every successful Black man walking this planet will tell you that “new pussy” flies at him a lot faster when he’s in a relationship than compared to when he’s single and jerking off every other night. He’ll also tell you that the harder he tries to duck and dodge “new pussy,” the faster that it flies at him. Because like I said earlier, from about the age of 13, Black women have grown accustomed to being able to fuck whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted, if they wanted to. But that when you fast forward to this day and age, where there are only so many attractive, successful Black men to go around, many of those former 13-year-olds are finding that “real-world” relationships with a man who meets their qualifications (e.g., attractive, successful, Black), are not as easy to come by as they used to be.
So that when a Black woman at the age of 28 meets a successful Black man at her job who she really, truly likes, the fact that he’s in a relationship means shit to her. If anything, the fact that he’s in a relationship actually makes him more attractive, because now it provides an opportunity for her to measure her ego up against his girlfriend/fiancée/wife. Because if this man were single, then, she’d simply wait around for him to just start flirting with her, for her ego would be telling her from day one, “he wants this ass; just wait.” But the fact that his relationship with another Black woman prevents him from coming at her like that - especially if she has looked on his desk and noticed that his girlfriend/fiancée/wife is gorgeous - then, she knows that it will be up to her to make the “first move.” So she starts flirting with him.
If he breaks easy, and she can see from the beginning that she could fuck him whenever she wants, then, she’ll cease the flirting and wait for him to fully come at her, which, at that point, will hopefully involve him having broke up with his girlfriend. If, however, he remains strong, then, speaking from a man who’s been in the position, she’s going to throw the book (i.e., the pussy) at his ass. She will do everything in her power to try and get him to forget about his girlfriend/fiancée/wife, up to and including bringing him “leftovers” to work, flirting with him in a very inappropriate manner all day everyday, and/or fucking him - all so that she can feel better about herself, stemming from the fact that she wanted something, e.g., an attractive, successful Black man (which, again, isn’t that easy to find), who some other Black woman got to first. And since every Black woman feels that she can do anything another Black woman can do, and better, attractive, successful Black men who are in relationships are constantly being “tried” by Black women who can’t find a man to save their life.
As I mentioned earlier though, and as I will delve into greater detail in the next post, the successful Black man’s ego makes it next to impossible for him to reject each and every one of these tests. At some point, as Chris Rock said, he’s just not going to be able to “run that fast.”
The numbers game makes it even harder for attractive, successful Black men who are in relationships to run from all of the women who try them.
Earlier in this post, I defined what it means to be "successful" in the Black community. But let me break it down a little further for you.
In my first year of law school, I was the only Black person - male, or female - in my first year section. There were 22 White/Jewish males, and then me. This is typically the experience of all of my friends who are currently in graduate school, or who are already working in the corporate sector. That at most, there will never be more than three or four Black males in a graduate school course, or in any division of a corporate entity.
In "Before Successful Black Men Became Gods...," I explained that this phenomenon often leads to what one of my best friends (a Black woman who is currently attending medical school in Virginia) has coined, "the God syndrome." In that even though Black men in grad school may not be on Barack's level, the fact of the matter is, they get about the same level of (intellectual) groupies chasing after them, simply because there are so few of them to go around. And this becomes starkly apparent when you contrast the situation of Black males in grad school to the situation of their White male colleagues.
For starters, a White man in graduate school is nothing special to a White woman who is in graduate school; in her mind, he’s simply a White man who is in graduate school. So that unless she really likes him, she’s not going to treat him like he’s Brad Pitt simply because he’s in graduate school. Or, better put, her level of attraction to him will not rise simply because he’s in graduate school. That's because in grad school, as well as in the corporate world, successful White men come a dime a dozen. A White woman is not going to put a White male colleague of hers on a pedestal simply because he is on her level; in her mind, that’s where he’s supposed to be…
However, in our community, successful Black men are put on such a pedestal. So much so that after a few weeks of meticulous pondering, I've actually managed to come up with an ordered system that effectively ranks the particular levels of success that are often recognized by the Black community:
1. Barack Obama (in a league of his own) 2. Kobe Bryant (athletes) 3. Jay-Z/Usher/Jamie Foxx (entertainers) 4. Harold Ford/Tavis Smiley/Hill Harper (politicians, doctors, lawyers, journalists, writers, engineers, grad students, etc.) 5. Holder of a college degree (small business owners, those working towards a degree, etc.) 6. Non-successful Black men (Black men who "ain't doing shit")
Now, contrast that ranking table with what it means to be successful in the White community. I mean, just ask yourself, in the White community, is a lawyer anything special? Maybe. If he's a senior-level partner at Cravath. But is a junior associate at a mid-sized law firm anywhere near being in the Top 4 of his race? No! There are 8 gazillion White lawyers in this country, so a White junior-level associate better have some game to go along with his six-figure salary if he's trying to get laid.
With Black men, however, being a lawyer is enough. It doesn't even matter what kind of lawyer! As a Black attorney, your job could be proofreading personal injury briefs at Jacoby & Meyers, and you will still have the same amount of pussy chasing you that Eric Holder is about to have as the nation's top attorney! And that’s because there’s only one Eric Holder, as there are only so many Kobe Bryant’s, as there are only so many Usher’s. And with there being such a short supply of successful Black men in our community, a Black med student who isn’t even in the top 75% of his class finds himself being only two success levels down from Kobe Bryant! The fact of that goes a long way towards explaining why (1) successful Black women often have to settle with “less successful” Black men, and (2) why it is next to impossible for attractive, successful (and, remember, egotistical) Black men who are in relationships to not cheat...
What to expect in (Part 2).
I will explain why and how the successful Black man’s ego often works to his (and Black women’s) ultimate demise, and why there is little that he can do to stop it.
I will explain what exactly makes another woman “worth it.”
Even though everyone eventually “gets caught,” I will explain the factors that lead to a successful Black man feeling as though he won’t get caught up in his bullshit.
I will explain why I believe successful Black men to be full of shit. Surprise, surprise! However, it has little to do with the fact that they desire to, and do fuck other women outside of their relationships (because as I’ve discussed, that’s just the reality of the world); it has more to do with the fact that they apply a double standard when it comes to their partners doing the same.
I will provide Black women with a list of options that will hopefully work to alleviate a lot of the tension.
As a bonus, I will also provide a partial review of an album that speaks directly to the divulsion that I have made to Black women today, and that I will further prove in the upcoming post.
Finally, I will address any common theme(s) that I pick out from the comments left on this post.
Look for Part 2 within the next month or so, but, with finals and graduation looming, I can’t make any promises. One...
Although it's 15 days too late, just wanted to say that I hope everybody had a happy new year. Been out here West Coastin' it with Cute Face, and enjoying the start of a year that is already shaping up to be more than amazing. Also, just wanted to put everybody on notice to expect A LOT more posts this year as compared to last. Without saying, 2008 tried to beat theshit out of me, and although it failed, goddamn if I didn't have the energy to sleep, let alone write. But that's in the past. 2009 is not simply a new year, it's looking to be the start of a new chapter in my life. So I'm going to finish off this trip, recharged and all, take it back to NYC, and happily get back into the grind of things - including on this blog. One...
Big Shot Rob. Hall of Famer? Shiiiit, he's got my vote.
Next week marks the second to last set of exams that I'll ever have to take in my life. Needing to get away from the loud Puerto Ricans who live below me (to Puerto Ricans' credit, they could be Dominicans), I decided to head to the surrounding forests of Atlanta in order to study in peace and quiet. After getting off of the plane yesterday, I rode the tram through the various gates of Hartsfield-Jackson Airport before ultimately ending up on the escalator that takes you up to baggage claim. Who do I see standing two people in front of me? Robert Horry. That's right; Big Shot Rob, the man who has more championship rings than Michael Jordan himself.
Once I got off the escalator, I walked up to "the killa" and did what any fan from Detroit, Orlando, Philadelphia, Sacramento, Portland, Phoenix, and/or Denver would do. I told him that he broke my heart. As for my specific situation, I'm referring to this:
Sidenote: Rasheed fucking Wallace.
You know, years before I even knew what AAU stood for, coaches were telling me to always guard the guy inbounding the ball. They would say that because as you see from the video, it's so easy for the inbounder to sneak back in and set up behind the three point line. For some reason though, Rasheed didn't get (or, more than likely, didn't give a fuck) about that rule. That's because Rasheed plays by his ego. In fact, if you've ever seen Rasheed play up close, you'll notice that he's no different than the guy on the playground who will "let you have that" because he "knows" that you're not going to make the shot. A foolish fucking premise when you're dealing with the man who has been putting exorbitant egos in check since '95. I give you exhibits A through G:
May 22, 1995, Western Conference Finals Game 1, Houston Rockets at San Antonio Spurs: Horry nailed a jumper with 6.5 seconds left to give Houston a 94–93 win over San Antonio in front of over 35,000 at the Alamadome.
June 11, 1995, NBA Finals Game 3, Orlando Magic at Houston Rockets: With Houston up by one with 14 seconds left and the shot clock winding down, Hakeem Olajuwon kicked a pass out to Horry, who launched a three over Orlando's Horace Grant, propelling the Rockets to a 106–103 victory and a 3–0 series lead on the way to a sweep and back-to-back NBA titles.
June 10, 2001, NBA Finals Game 3, Los Angeles Lakers at Philadelphia 76'ers: With the series tied at 1–1, the Sixers were within one point with under a minute to play and with Shaquille O'Neal on the bench having fouled out for the Lakers. Brian Shaw found Horry in the corner and he drilled the three with 47.1 seconds left to give the Lakers what proved to be an insurmountable four-point lead. The Sixers never recovered.
April 28, 2002, Western Conference First Round Game 3, Los Angeles Lakers at Portland Trailblazers: Down by two with 10.2 seconds left, Kobe Bryant drove on Ruben Patterson, aka, "The Kobe Stopper," who, by the way, allowed Kobe to drive right by him forcing Horry's man to double down on Kobe. With Horry wide open, Kobe actually passed the ball, and Horry hit the game winning three to end the series.
May 26, 2002, Western Conference Finals Game 4, Sacramento Kings at Los Angeles Lakers:
June 19, 2005, NBA Finals Game 5, the game that broke my heart: Horry inbounded the ball to Manu Ginobli who was cornered by two Pistons defenders (it should have only been one, but again, Rasheed's dumb ass...). Ginobili returned the ball to Horry on the left wing, who then hit a three-pointer with 5.9 seconds left to give the San Antonio Spurs a 96–95 victory and a 3–2 series lead heading into Game 6. Horry scored 21 points in the fourth quarter and overtime to carry the struggling Spurs.
April 30, 2007, Western Conference First Round Game 4, San Antonio Spurs at Denver Nuggets: The Spurs led by one with 30 seconds left when Horry hit a game-securing three-point shot, handing the Spurs their fifth straight playoff victory in Denver.
Now I'm not saying that Rasheed Wallace is a fucking moron, but I'm just saying... And what kills me the most, is that as much as Rasheed always has to make his motherfucking point (usually costing his team one point in the process), he sure as hell didn't slap the shit out of himself or yell at himself after that play.
Simply put, you don't leave Robert Horry alone. He's that good. Period. But is he Hall of Fame good? That's usually where the argument in any given barbershop begins.
The people who argue against Horry being a Hall of Famer say that all of his fortune came from playing behind surefire Hall of Famers. Olajuwon. Shaq (and Kobe). Duncan. Their logic being that Horry's man (Horry being 6'10) always had to double down on Olajuwon, Shaq, or Duncan, thereby leaving Horry wide open. To which I concede. I counter, however, by arguing (1) So what, should Scottie Pippen renounce his induction into the Hall of Fame?, and (2) "Being open" has nothing to do with "making the shot." See: Peja Stojakovic, overtime in Game 7 of the 2002 Western Conference Finals.
The fact is, aside from Michael Jordan, Reggie Miller, and Kobe Bryant, nobody has ever showed more poise in the clutch than Robert Horry. And to date, Robert Horry has seven more rings than Reggie Miller (a surefire Hall of Famer), four more rings than Kobe Bryant (a surefire Hall of Famer), and one more ring than Michael Jordan (the best player to ever lay hands on a Spalding, and that's coming from someone who is still quite livid about Isiah's snub from the Dream Team; I mean seriously, Chris Mullin made it?).
Simply put, you just don't get seven rings. You can get one or two, see: Brian Scalabrine, Randy Brown, Antoine "shimmy" Walker, but you damn sure as hell aren't getting seven rings unless you are good. What seven rings says to me, is that championship caliber teams are seeing your talent and are bringing you in to be one of the key pieces. And not only are they "bringing you in" (see: 2007-08 Sam Cassell), you are delivering; time and time again.
In my eyes, Big Shot Rob is the best non-superstar to ever play the game. Shaq always says that he'll make a free-throw "when it counts." Well, "when it counted," no one came up bigger than Horry (well, MJ did, but again, Horry has one more ring than MJ; that has to count for something). And it wasn't just about points or game-winners with Horry. He would give you that timely rebound. He would give you that timely block. He would give you that strategic hard foul when you needed it (see: Steve Nash flying into the third row of the stands). Simply put, Horry was that dude. And frankly, if Adrian Dantley's ringless ass can make it into the Hall of Fame (thank God that we got rid of him and brought in Mark Aguire), then Big Shot Rob should at least have a (credible, not formalistic) shot of being mentioned in Springfield.
Hell, he sealed up my vote yesterday, because when I walked up to him and asked him, "What the fuck was Rasheed thinking?," he looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, put his headphones back in, and walked off like the G that he is. Having said that, big ups to Big Shot Rob and to all of the LONG summers that he has provided for A LOT of people. Peace...
A Picture That's Worth A Thousand Words And Some Change.
I tell you right now, this is one day that I will never forget. Thank you George W. Bush. Thank you so much. And to think, I had the nerve to be so unforgivably indignant with you about that whole Katrina thing. Man, water under the levee on that one you fuckup. Oh, and to all of you red state assholes who were rubbing the outcome of the 2004 election in my face, enjoy that new Black family in the White House (no worries, it's on me) in addition to the sleep that you'll be losing out on for the foreseeable future (I didn't sleep for at least a month back in November of 2004). I mean, surely you didn't think that we were going to let you off that easy, now did you? My advice to you would be to take your "faith-based" ass the fuck on somewhere and pray to get another job that you probably lost in trying to keep gays from getting married back in 2004 (How did that constitutional amendment defining marriage as between one man and one woman ever work out for you anyway? Is it in the ratification process yet?). In short, fuck you and everybody who thinks like you. Bow down to your new Muslim terrorist president.
Also, rest in peace Aunt Sister; I'm sorry that you had to miss this one by a week. To think, Big Ma moved you from deep down in Dublin, GA to Detroit, MI back in the 40's to get you away from some shit that had to have left you hard-pressed to believe that I (let alone you) would ever see the day where there would be a Black man in this country holding the title of "President-Elect." Barack, I thank you for allowing all of us to believe, and with that said, I'll say again that for the first time in my life, I am extremely proud of my country (well, the 60 million people who think like me; the rest of you can go to hell).
Finally, thank you to everyone who shared in this day with me. From my family, to my "vote friend," to my "lifers," to my fellow bloggers, and to every Black person who sent me the "did u vote" text, the day wouldn't have been the same without you. And what an amazing day it's been! Peace...
PS. It's really nice to be back in a blue state again, bet on that.
A couple of days ago, P forwarded an email to me highlighting some of the things that Black people should refrain from doing in the office next Wednesday (assuming a Barack win). Things such as coming to work playing "Ain't No Stopping Us Now" or "I Believe I Can Fly," to shouting "Thank You Lord!" after stepping off the elevator. From joyfully breaking down into tears at the copier, to performing any other type of celebratory act that will only work to piss a lot of White people off. All good advice too, because whereas Barack may bethe president come next Wednesday morning, it must be remembered that White people still overwhelmingly control the processing of performance evaluations. Better put, there's no reason for your children to be hungry simply because you needed "to make your damn point."
Sound logic...
Unfortunately, however, what most Black people are failing to realize at this point is that such logic actually cuts both ways. Meaning to say - and I dare say it - what do we do in the event that Barack loses? Surprisingly, this is the one (and highly plausible) scenario that Black people aren't doing a whole lot of talking about these days; and in so (not) doing, I believe that we are neglecting to properly prepare ourselves for the doomsday scenario. I mean, has it really come to the point where we as Black people are putting as much stock into pre-election polls as your slutty cousin puts into your aunt's fish dream? Shiiiiit. I know that I'm not! Not saying that I'm "anti-America" or anything, but come the fuck on, I've lived in this country long enough to know what's really good. "Bradley Effect" my ass, it doesn't take much reflecting to realize that the only Black person who has ever reached a level even close to what Barack is about to accomplish in this country is OJ, and you see that they managed to get that one back.
So, for real Black people, what's up? In the event that Barack loses, what the hell are we going to do? Aside from advising against any sort of Nat Turner-esque behavior, have we as a people really sat down and considered how we will handle ourselves in the office next Wednesday should President McCain reign victorious? In understanding the importance of a J-O-B, I've put together a short list of actions that we should probably refrain from:
1. Needing "a moment" every fifteen minutes.
2. Excessively sighing and/or mouthing "this some mothafuckin' bullshit" everytime that you make eye contact with a Black coworker.
3. Anxiously waiting for one of your White coworkers to "say something" so that you can snuff them.
4. Changing your voicemail to: "Look, you've reached the desk of (X). I might get back to you today, but in all honesty, I probably won't. If it's an emergency, please call . . . you know what, fuck it, just deal with that shit. Life isn't fair anyway."
5. Talking to the entire office through the (loud) conversation that you're having with one of your Black coworkers: "Girl, fuck these racist ass mothafuckas! You know what I'm saying?"
6. Taking a three hour lunch break because you know that your boss is too apprehensive to say anything to your (noticeably) hostile black ass.
7. "Giving up on this bullshit." Thereafter looking up how to kill yourself by letting the engine run because you don't want to jeopardize an open casket.
8. Watching Murder in Mississippi in the breakroom while letting all of your Black coworkers know that "ain't nothing changed, they just more slick with the shit now."
9. Answering your business line in the following manner: "Yeah?"
10. Listening to Tom Joyner or Michael Baisden at full blast in your cubicle while emphatically shouting "Amen" or "I heard that" to every other angry Black caller.
On the serious tip though; Black people, whichever scenario we find ourselves having to deal with on Wednesday morning, you know that we'll be "aight." In keeping the glass half-full, let's remember, we never expected to seeanything like this in our lifetime anyway! So that if he wins, he wins. And if he loses, he loses. Regardless of what happens, nothing will be able to take away from everything that this man has accomplished, and that's real. So in any event, good luck on Tuesday Barack; I tell you no lie when I say that it's been one hell of a ride. Peace...
My third (and final) year of law school started on August 26. Aside from a 6-credit internship, I'm only registered for two classes. I attend the internship without issue, but of the eight or so weeks that school has been in session, I have been to the other two classes only twice. Why? Because of my obsession with Barack Obama's presidential campaign.
As of late, my entire life is spent flipping between CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News....
9am:Morning Joe.
10am to 4pm: In between reading every article in the New York Times that mentions Obama, I'm flipping between all three channels trying to see what channel has the most recent poll numbers, if there have been any gaffes on the campaign trail, and what Sarah Palin is doing. I also use this time to call and text friends who are seeking real time updates.
4pm: The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer.
5pm:Hardball with Chris Matthews.
6pm:Race For The White House with David Gregory.
6:30pm: Nightly News with Brian Williams. However, I only watch the segments covering the election, then right back to Race For The White House.
7pm: I eat dinner, shower, and bring Cute Face up to speed on all of the information that I've taken in all day while she was wasting time at work.
8pm:Keith Olbermann. During commercial breaks though, I'll switch over to O'Reilly to hear some stupid shit along the lines of, "In my opinion, Obama's camp has some nerve to take issue with Palin enthusiasts calling for Obama's death when Obama won't even stop the enthusiasts at his rallies from booing McCain."
9pm: Thank God for Rachel Maddow. During commercial breaks, however, I'll switch over to Hannity and Colmes. Hannity's confusion behind a terrorist nigger with a nigger reverend being up 14 points in the polls is as amusing to me as the jobless white trash who called Obama an "Arab" at a McCain rally last week.
10pm:Anderson Cooper. But I'm sure that you already knew that. Anderson's been my man dating back to his Hurricane Katrina coverage.
11pm:The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.
11:15pm: I'll usually go pee because I haven't done so since sometime in the early afternoon.
Midnight: I flip around all of the channels to make sure that there is no breaking news, and then I go to sleep.
Simply put, I don't want to go to school (or anywhere) because God forbid that I leave the house, come back home, and find that the entire electoral map has changed to red due to ACORN or some shit. Even when I (reluctantly) drove to DC this past weekend, Cute Face knew to press refresh on her Blackberry every two to five minutes so that I wouldn't throw her ass out the car in an attempt to get back to NYC in time to catch Meet The Press.
Now, admittedly, this full-fledged addiction of mine is extremely unhealthy, but, whatever, I can't help it! I mean, it really looks like Obama's going to win! To the point where everyday as I sit here in a puddle of my own filth, I gain a greater appreciation for George W. Bush, because without him, none of this would be possible. It truly took a fuckup like George W. Bush for (unemployed) people to finally say to themselves, "You know what, a nigger might not be that bad..."
The fact that Barack Obama (a salty name for an open wound) might actually serve as our revenge for the bullshit that these red-state assholes have put us through by electing an idiot who they saw in themselves is simply too much for me to fathom at times, which is exactly why I stay at home all of the time trying to make sure that this isn't a dream. Hell, I'm looking forward to November 4th more so than either candidate, simply for the fact that I want my life back. I mean sometimes, as I watch Obama out on the campaign trail, I get jealous of him for no other reason than he found a way to get out of the house that day. And frankly, this shit has got to stop...
But in the mean time, I'm enjoying every minute of this election, because we all know that without a second-coming of Bush, there will never be another (half) Black man to make it this far again; this is a once-in-a-lifetime blip of unparalleled proportions. So that when my kids ask me about this election one day, the fact that my life at this point revolves around pundits, campaign advisers, and lead-ups to debates, I will definitely be able to give them the business about the 2008 Presidential Campaign.
This entire post to ask though, is it just me with this dangerously unhealthy obsession? If not, I invite any of the other borderline-stalkish Obama supporters out there to e-mail me at any point throughout the day, as I cannot get enough of talking about this shit. Anyway people, peace, I gotta go...
***UPDATE***
On post-debate nights such as tonight, I will be up until at least 2am. Now, immediately following the debate, I'll turn to CNN because they have the most politically diverse panel. But once they start asking that focus group of undecided voters a bunch of questions, I'll turn to MSNBC to get my partisan fill of Chris Matthews and Keith Olbermann.
But back to that focus group. My question is, how the fuck can anyone be undecided at this point? Some "undecided" Black dude had the nerve to be up in that focus group tonight. Talking (in a subdued East Cleveland accent) about how Barack's ACORN affiliation still "troubles him." Nigga, shut up. We all know who your "undecided" Black ass early-voted for last week.
And also, was it just me, or did you want Barack to come back a little harder when McCain was getting onto him about wanting an apology for John Lewis' comments? Personally, I was looking for something along the lines of, "John, fuck you." I don't know, I just thought that Barack went a little soft there. In fact, I thought that he was a little soft the entire debate, but, it's whatever. He didn't fuck it up, so I'm good. But anyway, like I said earlier, I gotta go!
I figured that there may be some people out there who could appreciate the sheer comedy that I experienced up in the D.C. Superior Courthouse today. In having arrived a little early for a status hearing, I had to sit through the testimony of a robbery victim from another case:
U.S. Attorney: So while you were walking south along South Capitol Street, you say that the vehicle that was driving north quickly made a left turn and cut off your path?
Victim: Yes.
U.S. Attorney: What happened at that point?
Victim: Well, the one with the dreads jumped out of the car.
U.S. Attorney: Upon jumping out of the car, what did he do?
Victim: He pointed a gun at my head and said “Nigga you know what time it is.”
Now, when I tell you that upon hearing that foolishness, me and three other Black people had to run up out of that courtroom because we could not stop laughing, please believe that I tell you no lie. I mean seriously, in 2008, are niggas still making “robbery announcements?” What made the situation even crazier is that the co-defendant who the victim was talking about actually looked like a nigga who would say some stupid shit like that.
So that on that note, over the next few weeks, be on the lookout for a post that will detail why you don’t want to have a felony on your record. Whereas such a post may seem self-evident, trust me, when I see these young Black men in court dealing with the aftermath of their dumb ass mistakes, day, after day, after day, after day; I figure that it could never hurt to simply put the disclaimer out there. But until then my people, peace…
So I’m here in D.C. working for the summer. And not just working, but working with some of the coolest people that I have ever met in my life. Last night, we decided to put on one of the biggest Spades tournaments that Chocolate City has ever seen. Yet, somewhere in the middle of one teammate cussing out another for throwing a King when the Ace of that set hadn’t been thrown yet, we all got onto a topic that I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about lately - and not coincidentally, it’s a topic that relates to the “Lack of Eligible Black Men” post. Simply put, the discussion revolved around how in high school and college, we as (pre-successful) Black men were forever “chasing” ass, but how now, and by default at that (read “Lack of Eligible Black Men” to understand what I mean by “default”), ass somehow or another is chasing us!
This is especially true in D.C., because whereas professional Black women in every city are having to be a little bit more aggressive these days in order to find themselves a successful Black man, or, even a quasi-successful Black man, Black women from D.C. have never had any issues with aggressively going after whatever it is that they want. And when you think about it, what else would you expect of them? The Black women here aren’t just secretaries, they’re congressional aides. The Black women here aren’t just running human resources, they’re running national bureaucracies. The Black women here aren’t just trying to be up in videos, they’re trying to be up in someone’s embassy. And to top it all off, word on the street is that the Black women janitors who clean the building that I work in will all be receiving federal pensions upon retirement. So that naturally, once you understand what’s really good here, it’s not that difficult to understand why, and how, Black women from D.C. will boss the fuck up whenever they see something that they want
No lie; last month, D.C. Black women randomly approached me (five times) to ask me if I was married. Not my name. Not my age. Not how my day was going. Not even if I had a girlfriend. All that mattered was whether I was married or not, because these Black women from D.C. are not about the typical bullshit of (1) let’s flirt, (2) let’s go to lunch, (3) let’s get a drink, (4) let’s fuck, (5) “Why didn’t he tell me that he was married? Now I have to go fuck up his wife’s car.” In addition to that, on a couple of occasions - while minding my own business mind you - these bold ass women have stepped to me and stuck notes in my pocket (I’ll let you speculate as to the content of the notes, granting you that whatever you guess, it’s probably not that far off). That’s not all though. A few weeks back, I was almost attacked by this woman while standing outside of a pizza joint; and I quote her talking to her girls, “Damn girl, I thought that I wanted some pizza, but actually, I want him.” At other times, I have been eye raped to the point where I think that finally - after all of this time - I am going to stop looking at certain Black women with that “Why are you walking around with all of that ass unless you want to get fucked” look. And don’t even try to play the “stare game” down here, because wherein most cities, when you catch a Black woman’s eye, she may smile and quickly look away; here, once a Black woman catches your eye, it will eventually get to the point where you as a dude feel uncomfortable, ultimately turning your head away like a little bitch. And these stories that I write of aren’t SHIT as compared to what the other dudes (mostly attorneys) up in the Spades tournament were talking about.
All of that to say that successful Black men who (1) don’t speak with a hyper-white voice, (2) are attractive, and (3) are not one of those nerdy successful Black men who will let a Black woman run all over them (which, according to most of the Black women that I know, is not that attractive) have somehow or another become “prized commodities.” And again, this is all by default, because young White men who are on my level - not Donald Trump’s level, but, a level where you can comfortably do your thing - are not experiencing this phenomenon (because shit, White men on my level come a dime a dozen).
Now, as for putting a label on this phenomenon, a couple of years back, one of my best friends (Mia!) coined this experience as the “God Syndrome.” In that while there are a plethora of Black men who ultimately do make it to the graduate or uber-successful post-undergraduate levels, there simply aren’t a lot of (1) cool Black men (i.e. "regular ass niggas") or (2) attractive Black men at this level. So that when there is a Black guy at this level who possesses both (1) and (2), for all intents and purposes, he turns into a “God” amongst the many beautiful Black women who ultimately make it to this level.
So, now that you understand the background behind our discussion last night, I can get you more into the specifics of what we were all talking about. In that basically, the discussion reached a point where we were all reminiscing on what life was like for Black men BEFORE the “God Syndrome.” Specifically, we were discussing all of the games that Black men used to have to play in order to cop some ass - again, before ass started flying at us from all directions in speeds upwards of 500 miles per hour. Honest and truly, I probably haven’t laughed as hard as I did last night - reminiscing on those games - since I can’t even remember when. That said, I figured that I had no choice but to let all of you in on the reminiscing as well - reminiscing back to the days when getting into some “draws” wasn’t easy, but ever dependent upon the right “strategy.” So, without further adieu, here’s the complete list of foolproof strategies that we came up with (young Black guys, take note):
1. “Let’s rent a movie tonight!” Ahhhh, the “movie night” strategy. A timeless classic. Speaking for myself, from the time that the FBI warning popped up on the screen, I’m already kissing on the back of your neck, my hands are rubbing up and down some thighs, something in my lap is pressed up against that ass, and I’m just waiting for you to turn over, at which point, the movie is watching us. By far, this one is the best trick in the book because (1) you ALREADY have her at the house, and (2) she’s not trying to watch that movie either, which is exactly why she agreed to rent it! Oh, and as a bonus, you’re not spending more than ten dollars on this night; compare that to the price of ONE movie ticket.
2. “You want a massage?” Every Black guy between the ages of 16 and 24 is a licensed massage therapist. In ’99, I was giving massages better than the professionals who work on athletes. I knew how to adjust to the girls who liked a lot of pressure, to those who simply liked for you to softly rub your hands up and down their back so as to get a tickling sensation. But of course, no matter what type of massage you enjoyed, eventually, you were going to get the instruction: “Look, I’m going to have to undo this bra because it’s getting in the way. Also, I’m going to have to pull your underwear down a little so that I can get to your lower back.” At that point, you’re in there! But again, it’s safe to say that you already were - that’s why she agreed to “the massage.”
3. “She’ll have a Long Island; I’ll have a water with lemon.” Ahhhh, the classic get-her-drunk-while-keeping-your-sobriety strategy. Because frankly, there is nothing worse than if you get too drunk and say some stupid shit like, “My girl would kill me if she knew that I was out with you.” But even that blunder pails in comparison to you getting so drunk that certain portions of your anatomy don’t work, which defeats the entire purpose of getting HER drunk.
4. “We should take a vacation!” This is basically a euphemistic phrase for “We should fuck!” There is no way that she is going on a three-day cruise with you (the college equivalent of the French Riviera) without fucking you. If for some reason that you didn't get some ass, it was for two reasons: (1) you got too drunk at the bar by the pool and said some stupid shit (see strategy number 3), or (2) you're gay and you simply took her on the cruise to quell your parents’ ever present suspicions.
5. “Girl, it’s not about the sex; I’m just really feeling who you are as a person.” Young Black guys, utter the above phrase (verbatim), and, within half an hour, there should be an ass in your face, and a pillow in hers. You see, for whatever reason, girls back then must have gotten off on hearing guys say that, because from about the age of 15, any intelligent girl should know that when it comes to guys, it’s ALWAYS about sex – never you. “I want to get to know you” is Black guy talk for “I hope that you will give me the opportunity to figure out how to fuck you.” Only after the first condom is flushed does the “getting to know the girl as a person” actually begin. If she’s cool, she’s a keeper! If not, don’t spend more than a year trying to get her to break up with you.
6. “Yo, we should try to get up and study this weekend.” My worst grades usually came after “studying” with a girl. Knowing that when you said “study,” you meant “fuck,” she wears booty shorts, a tank top, lip gloss, and earrings to the study session. So that when she opens the door to let you in, your dumb ass is shocked because you didn’t think that she could actually see through your bullshit. And that even though you would ultimately fail the test, at least you always had your boys to help you comb through the cost-benefit analysis. E.g., “Yeah, you got a 58 on the test, but all you have to do is get a 100 on the next four tests in order to pass. Just be grateful that you hit that shit - because she wasn’t giving that up to anybody!!!”
7. “Girl, you don’t need to be lifting all of that shit. I’ll help you move this weekend!” Now, whenever guys need their boys to help them move, something is always going on that weekend. E.g., “Now look, you know you my nigga right? And you know that I would help you move. But I could have swore that I told you a few days ago that I was taking Neisha to Madagascar for the weekend?” Yet, let a girl ask one of your homeboys to help her move. Your homeboy could be on Workmen’s Comp, knowing that his Black ass is under surveillance by the insurance company’s fraud squad, and he will STILL help that bitch move. Why? Because it’s usually a good way to get into some “draws.”
8. “Do you smoke?” If she says yes, then you need to proceed to the next step, which is for you to say, “We should have a session sometime.” If she says yes, it’s because she’s 80/20 that she’s going to fuck you. How do I know this? Well, trust me, no one is going to have “a session” with someone that they couldn’t see themselves possibly fucking; (good) weed, unlike liquor, provides too profound of an experience to share with just any ugmo (so I hear). Therefore, the onus is on the guy to (1) not say anything stupid, (2) to be man enough to take advantage of the situation that she wants you to take advantage of, and (3) to make sure that you have purchased good weed. Any of that Bama shit will have her walking out of your door - leaving you to your own frustrations, your own bottle of Lubriderm, and your own right hand.
9. “Just let me go down on you – that’s all I want to do.” You had to be careful with this one, because frankly, she might just take you up on your offer. To illustrate this point, guys, just think back to high school, to the days where although we were selective about who could hold our hand in front of our locker, anyone could suck our dick - and I mean anyone. You could be as ugly as that woman from Mo’ Money, yet, so long as you gave good head, you at least had a ride home. Now, don’t get me wrong. So long as you put in work on that clit (and hear me, I'm talking about setting off an earthquake in her legs), you were usually in there; that’s why I listed this as a strategy. The thing is, I put this disclaimer out there to warn all of the ugly guys... In that I don’t want you to assume that just because she heard through the grapevine that you’re running off four orgasms in a row, that the fact of that then translates into her wanting to see your monkey-looking face three inches above hers, sweating all over her and shit.
And, that about does it. Fellas, if I missed any good ones, feel free to call me on it. Oh, and ladies, if I missed any good ones, feel free to call me on it. Yet, whatever is added to the list, I want everyone who reads this post to keep one thing in mind: every strategy listed in this post - that manages to work - only works because the woman wanted to fuck you anyway. So for all my ugly dudes, don't get dissappointed when you offer to take a woman on a vacation, she accepts, but you don't see her again until you're checking in for your flight back to the States.
Real talk, reminiscing on this crazy ass list is the only thing that got me past the fact that I lost forty dollars last night. Why in the hell did I play that King? Anyway people, until the next post, peace…
Name: Phil Hamilton E-Mail: Philh826@aol.com Location: New York, New York About Me: My roots in Detroit, MI, I possess a dual degree in Criminal Justice/Sociology from Georgia State University in Atlanta, and will be adding a law degree to those credentials this upcoming May in an attempt to help our young brothers and sisters who continue to get caught up in the bullshit of our criminal justice system. I just so happen to detest 99% of all New York Hip-Hop critics; you know, the ones who start shit by generalizing YOUR particular cultural situation knowing good and damn well that most of these fools haven't set foot in all five boroughs, let alone your locality. Nevertheless, through their ethnocentrism, they somehow corral the arrogance to tell you why their lives, regional culture, and musical tastes are superior to yours. Shiiiit. Born in L.A., I've lived in Detroit, ATL, NYC, (a temporary stint) in DC, and have managed to step foot on four continents. There is no way in hell that I could take one more "intellectual" NYC Hip-Hop critic trying to stunt on me with their baseless "sophisticated and cosmopolitan" views. In recognition of my irritations, I bestowed upon the world this blog. Peace...
