ho, ho, ho

Posted on by
555

we sparked it yesterday…

v renee: Define ho. I’m curious to know, what you think makes someone a ho, besides the been around the block factor. If you’re single and grown, most are more than likely you have at least been to the corner or at least mailbox.

the champ: defining ho is more of an art than a science. its hard to explain…but you kind of just know one when you see one.

for the sake of the reply though, here’s my stab:

if the amount of sexual partners you’ve had in your life exceeds the amount of friends you’ve had, you were a ho

if every guy you’ve ever been with has had “magic stick” treatment (if they hit once, they can hit whenever they want) for years, then you were a ho

if the amount of people you’ve been with once quadruples the amount of people you’ve been with more than four times, then you were a ho

if your private parts look like the trashcan in a supermarket deli, you were a ho

slut.

ho.

tramp.

slore.

strumpet.

the rolling definition of what constitutes “ho” behavior has more conditions and variables than gem’s panty drawer a sidekick contract, a dynamic which creates myraid questions.

do sheer numbers carry the most weight? if so, how do age and circumstance factor when making this consideration?

what about specific acts/people? is ho-dum mostly defined by exactly what/who someone is willing to do, and how willing they are to do it/them?

where does the over-prioritization of sex factor in to all of this? is someone who’d drop their close friends and serious responsibilities quicker than a meth head’s twich just for the potential sniff of some ass in possession of more “ho-like” qualties than someone who merely just fits their indiscriminate boning into their daily schedule?

lastly, should any of this even matter? as long as consenting adults are mutually partaking in this behavior, why should anyone even care how many hundreds of thousands of consenting adults a person has practiced this behavior with?

anyway though, slattern hussies good people of vsb.com, how would you define ho-dom, what tangible signs (if any) are there that someone might have been running continual drawer-less marathons around the coitius block…and should it even matter?

—the champ

flag on the play

Posted on by
635

***flashback to fall 2006 as a younger champ is out a second date with an extremely attractive philly who also shared his affinity for “the wire” and angela nissel. basically, a potential all-star***

the champ: “…and so anyway, thats when we started calling her “bucket face”. i never looked at feathers or windex the same way again. enough about me, though. whats on your mind and sh*t”

flighty philly, after a prolonged sigh: “please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys, are you?”

a perplexed champ: “huh”

philly: “i mean, you seem great in all, but i’m a cynic. without fail, every guy i’ve ever had feelings for has cheated on me. every. single. one. they all seemed nice in the beginning, but then again, so did nicolae carpathia.”

***btw, i’m not making this up. she actually used the perfect carpathia analogy in real-time conversation. when you combine this with her close-to dimeness, it was very hard for me to make the decision i eventually made. i cried for three days afterwards***

the champ, creating a sentence that signifies his potential hurt at the lost potential while doing his damnedest to give her one last try: “seriously?”

philly: “seriously”

“ok”, the champ responds, while subtlely erasing her number from his cell phone and transferring his thoughts to cream of wheat and lightly buttered toast

ok. i can imagine the questions going through everyone’s heads: how the hell did the champ become so magnificent, and what do i need to do to get there??? what was the big deal? what caused you to go from “damn she’s bad as hell” to “virtual restraining order” in less than 15 seconds?

if you’re thinking it was about her moving too fast (ie: her using the second date to ask whether or not i’d cheat)…you’re wrong. i have a tendency to attract and be attracted to “relationship-ey” women, so this early line of questioning wasn’t a surprise. in fact, from what i knew about her, i expected it.

its not even about her admitting to being a cynic, questioning my greatness (blasphemy!!!!) and motives. initial cynicism is nothing but a bit of self-preservation, and i’d actually be turned-off by a woman completely devoid of that quality.

no, my early escape that evening and subsequent mental sprint from even entertaining the idea of a third date had everything to do with this line:

“without fail, every guy who’s ever been with me has cheated on me. every. single. one”

whats the big deal, you ask? whats so wrong with dating a woman who hasnt had the best history with men?

well, if you assume that she’s telling the truth (which i did), four things immediately came to mind:

1. she’s a terrible judge of character.

if it happens once, that sucks.

twice? damn.

three times? you must have bad luck.

with every person you’ve ever been with? the “coincedence window” closes somewhere between three and four. at this point, its safe to say that your character gauge is more f*cked up than gary payton’s suits, a fact which permeantly bars you from my circle. sorry

2. she’ll project

i’d be fighting a losing battle from day one. each day would be test, a neverending gauntlet of inane inferences and hilarious hypotheticals with her at the end of the line, waiting for me with a jousting stick.

3. she’s a reformed ho

for whatever reason, there seems to be a strong correlation between reformed ho-dom and being habitually cheated on. i have absolutely no idea why this is true…but it is true

4. wack sackiness

ok…lets say number one isn’t true. lets say she is a great judge of character…but all of these high character guys still cheat on her. hmmm. it doesn’t take a genius or a…

…champ, a gem of the ocean, or a killa k to figure out how this can possibly be.

vsb.com…what are some other subtle relationship red flags? behaviors or actions that might not seem like much on the surface, but tell a much deeper and more disturbing truth? my inquiring mind wants to know and sh*t

—the champ

***btw, we’re trying to create a virtual gallery of people rocking their vsb shirts. if you’re interested, send a pic of you wearing your shirt to us at contact@verysmartbrothas.com and we’ll incorporate you into an entry somehow***

ask the champ: movie edition

Posted on by
484

***as written in the champs new contract, from now on, at least once a month the champ will directly respond to a question that was sent to the champs email address. the champ doesn’t really enjoy doing this, but since it’s in the champs contract, the champ will continue to do this because the champ has made it known that the champ will do things that the champ doesnt really enjoy doing, as long as there’s money involved. the champ is a whore. btw, if you haven’t noticed, theres also a clause in the champs contract disallowing pronouns.***

being that you’re a movie buff, i wanted to ask you a simple question: out of all the movies that you’ve seen, champ, which one had the strangest, most inane plot? i’m not asking for the worst movie, just a premise that made you wonder “what the f*ck were they smoking…and where can i get some of that sh*t for myself??”

for me,it would have to be “underworld“. think about it: a bunch of underwear model slash werewolves and vampires running around with capes, diesel jeans, and doc martens, speaking in old english but with australian accents and shooting each other with assault rifles. just completely weird, but, for some reason, it kind of works.

be easy

–t.j.

thanks t.j.

as you know, the champ is an expert in myraid capacities. from how to achieve the perfect standing “o” to orbitofrontal cortex hypoactivation, i am the master of many domains, and one of said domains is obscure movie knowledge. if you haven’t seen it, you can bet that the champ has.

with that being said, after racking my brain and “teasing the midget” clearing my thoughts, one movie stands out more than anything else. one movie with a premise so absurd, so inane, so inconceivably inconceivable that…well…it just leaves you speechless.

this is a movie about an undead black former slave/serial killer who only attacks white women.

please re-read that last sentence three times, just so you fully grasp the levity of that statement.

go ahead. i’ll wait.

done yet? ok.

an undead black former slave/serial killer who was “murdered” 100 years ago by a swarm of bees that he still occasionally carries around in his throat. an undead black former slave/serial killer who they say will only appear if you say his name in a mirror five times, but somehow always finds a way to circumvent that little rule.

yes, faithful readers and concubines, i’m talking about the one and only…

…candyman,

seriously…just take a moment to think about this. a black former slave serial killer who only haunts snizzles???? how the hell did this movie even get made? who green-lighted this sh*t? and how many wangs did the producer have to hold in his mouth to get this sh*t through?

can you imagine a producer going to an executive meeting trying to pitch this premise?

producer: “so, yeah…at the end of the flick, they’re gonna have a giant bonfire in the middle of cabrini-green, and i’d really like the blonde protagonist to be butt naked, and to get all of her hair burned off. that would be perfect”

exec one whispering in exec two’s ear: “who the hell is this guy, how the hell did he get into our building, and why haven’t we called security yet??”

exec two, whispering back: “ummm…this is the security guard. remember we said we’d allow him to pitch a movie to us as long as he kept the “sticky stockings incident” under wraps.”

exec one: “dammit! wouldn’t it just be cheaper to have him murdered???”

exec two: “we’ve already killed two security guys this quarter. a third might get the cops suspicious. your ass just needs to leave those baby goats alone? let him make his flick. with any luck, one of the coloreds in cabrini-green will murder him while they’re filming anyway”

how come i’ve never heard of anybody picketing a showing of “candyman“? “friends” would get protests and angry emails during their run because they didn’t have enough black characters (save for b.a.a.t. ***bad ass aisha tyler***), but a movie about a crazy black ex slave haunting white women somehow slips through the cracks like a fart in a stiff fall wind?

and, to make matters worse, the movie was actually scary, lol. sh*t, i’m 29 years old with a nice 403b and i’ll be a great uncle soon (seriously), and you still wont catch my black ass saying “candyman” five times in front of no freakin mirror, lol. i’m not taking that chance, i’m sorry. call me a b*tch if you like, but i’m just not too keen on getting impaled and disembowed by some 6’10 former slave thirsty for some white “gotdamn”

anyway though, excessively “gasfermating” joyous people of vsb, how would you have answered that question? whats the weirdest, strangest, and most inane movie you’ve ever seen and am i the only one still scared to say candyman five times in the mirror?

—the champ

the joy of **insert word that starts with “m” and rhymes with “fasturation”**

Posted on by
318

i remember like it was yesterday. it was approximately 3pm on a friday, culminating my hectic first week of college, and i was sitting in my dorm, pensive and determined. i knew my roommate was leaving town for the weekend, leaving me all by my lonesome for the first time since i arrived on campus, and i knew i couldn’t take any longer to finally “christen” my room. i wouldnt feel “home” without it. slowly and and surely, i locked my door, closed my blinds, and laid on my twin bed, conjuring up thoughts of that spicy harlemite i flirted with in the cafe earlier that day while the theme song from “trouble man” played on an endless loop in my head.

i won’t go into too many details of my 240 second blissful solo sex-spree, but as you can imagine, it was a joyous occasion. one of many memorable moments with me, my lefty, and God.

an unabashed “remote control clicker“, today the champ wants to share his love of “percussionisting” with you, and, without further ado, here’s four reasons why the champ loves ***insert word that starts with “m” and rhymes with “pastor nation”***…and why he feels that you should love it too.

1. vagina vetting

no sense of humor.

warped sense of self.

smells exactly how courtney love looks.

these are just a few of the many qualities the champ would consider to be immediate red flags and/or deal breakers, yet each of these pale in comparison to the horror the champ exhibits when encountering a grown-ass woman who proudly states that she “doesn’t ***insert word that starts with “m” and rhymes with “gasmerfate“***”.

usually when making this claim, they’ll happily follow up with some variant of “i mean, why would i do something like that when i can just call someone do to it for me“, a statement which basically advertises…

“hey everyone! guess what?? i have a barren and stupid crotch, and boning me would be like watching paint f*ck, only weirder. i also wear jeans to bed occasionally and i keep a fridge full of dad’s root beer“.

there’s no boringer date and worse lay than a chick who’s scared of her own parts, and nothing says “my vagina intimidates me” more than a woman who refuses to ***insert word that starts with “m” and rhymes with “grassy fate“***. trust me. run like you sell drugs in the school zone.

2. kitten control

kittens, with their big eyes, playful dispositions, adorable whiskers, and furry feet are the bane of human existence, stealth mammal spies sent from the devil to steal all of our belts and murder dave chappelle.

i, for one, won’t stand idly by while we allow these cute-ass beasts of prey to destroy our quality of life, so, through my daily “turkey bastings”, i kill at least one kitten per day. its the least i can do.

3. yup. we’re talking about “practice”

when you buy your ak-47′s, you don’t just start immediately and indiscriminately spraying up your block and harassing co-workers do you?? no. you go to the firing range to practice first. why? because even though your own your gun, you don’t know your gun.

maybe your gun has a light trigger-pull, and it doesn’t take much stimulation to fire. maybe your weapon needs to heat up a bit before it’s able to shoot accurately. maybe you need to practice your aim, cause maybe your gun isn’t as powerful as you thought it was, so your ass better be an expert marksman.

since you want to go through life with the least amount of unknown “maybes” possible, doesn’t it make sense to “practice” as much as possible, sometimes three times a day a bit before (and after) the big game? you can never have too much practice. i love practice. sometimes during a game, i’ll be thinking to myself “self, i can’t wait until i get an opportunity to practice this some more!!!!”

4. the multi-tasking test

lets just say that once you’re able to effectively type one-handed coherent. legible, and intelligent thoughts to a client on your blackberry while popping the pepsi can, there’s nothing left to accomplish as a human being. you’ve reached the pinnacle of humanity. you’ve solved the rubic cube, topped the summit, and passed the ultimate test. seriously, you could perish right at that moment and die a content person.

okay. thats enough for today. i have some, ummm, “weeds” that need hedged before i go to sleep.

yeah, thats it. weeds.

i love gardening

—the champ

The Second Shortest Post You’ll Ever Read From Me

Posted on by
436

Admin note: Sorry for the delay.  A brotha’s traveling down the East Coast.

Panama Fact#1: My favorite rap group of all time is N.W.A.

Panama Fact #2: I think DJ Quik’s song “Sweet Black P***y” is a masterpiece of American musicalism.

Best song on Dr. Dre’s The Chronic?

“B*tches Ain’t Sh*t”. Without a doubt.

Most innovative, yet totally misogynistic song of the past decade?

Ying-Yang Twins.

“The Whisper Song.”

Which leads me to this -

Panama Fact#3: If due dates and science hold true, in just under 3 months, I’m about to be a daddy.

It’s a girl.

Panama Jackson is responsible for shaping a woman’s outlook on life, love, and relationships.

Lord.

Help.

Me.

Thank you and goodnight.

-VSB P aka TANGLE JIG P aka THE ARSONIST

FYI – I’m in Atlanta this weekend. If you see a random uber-awesome, sexxy dude wearing a verysmartbrothas.com t-shirt on Saturday, it’s me. Love me. And take a shot with me to help me prepare for my new charge in life – raising a woman.