as you all already know, panama jackson and i are smart as hell. we’re super smart. very smart. uber smart. we’re to smart what ray j is to condoms. we’re to stupid what southerners are to soap. if “being smart” was “discreetly becoming more and more irrelevant” we’d be aubrey f*cking graham. if ken norton was mandingo, then we’re twin, ummm, mand…smartgos.
but, despite this ubiquitous smartness, there’s a multitude of sh*t i still haven’t completely figured out yet, and here’s some of it
why some black people can’t say “nigga”
now, i’m not referring to black people who’ve never had nigga as a part of their lexicon or those who’ve said nigga before, but have stopped saying it for some personal or political reason. no, i’m talking about the black people who say “nigga”, but, for whatever reason, just can’t say it.
you can’t exactly place it, but you just know that something about their nigga saying game is completely faulty because it sounds so forced, awkward, and unnatural coming from their tongues that you always notice when they’re saying it, like a seven year old saying “sh*t” for the first time. and, when you hear it, you’re always tempted to stop them and ask “wait…hold up. did you just call me a nigga, nigga???”
why paul pierce always looks like he got his haircut six days ago
while some have perfected intentional scruffy and others stay with the clean look, paul pierce is the only ninja i’ve ever seen who always looks like “its saturday and i haven’t been to the barber since tuesday”, and i have no idea how (or why) he does this
the female orgasm
some shiver, others shake.
some squirt, others hurt.
some cum, others can’t
some cry, others lie.
some scream, others sheen (ok. i know sheen doesn’t make any sense. i just needed something clever to rhyme with “scream”)
some get off when “spots’ are hit, others, well…i just read that g-spots aint sh*t.
like i mentioned before, knowing that mostmany women themselves have no clue about the female o provides a bit of solace, but can’t ya’ll provide at least a little consistency here? damn, we don’t ask for much.
how to react when free sh*t abruptly ends
for a year or so, a manager in one of the departments on the third floor of my building at work would buy five giant boxes of dunkin donuts every monday, and place them near the elevator for whoever happened to stop past the floor. sometimes his secretary would even send out a mass email to each department reminding everybody about them. as word got out that this was a weekly occurrence, everybody in the entire building started to look forward to donut day. offices started planning staff meeting times around them (no manager in their right mind would schedule a staff meeting on the morning of donut day, unless he wanted a full mutiny), and one guy (supposedly) met his now-fiancee for the first time when they argued over who would take the last boston creme.
then, one monday, no donuts. then, another donut-less monday comes and goes. and another. and another.
thing is, although we were all shocked and disappointed by the sudden death of donut day, we were even more flabbergasted by and confused about how to respond. i mean, we were in the bitching and complaining mood, but how exactly do you bitch and complain about somebody ending some free ass sh*t?
are you even allowed to be upset about that? what can you possibly say to admonish someone who all of a sudden decided to stop spending 120 bucks a month to provide your greedy ass with frosted mini-crullers? if a black blogger tells a long-winded pastry story with a weak punchline in the woods, would you leave a comment?
what to do when you’re out with your girl and this…
i mean, you can’t stare, but you can’t not look either. in my opinion, the best tactic is to just make a snarky remark about her (“haha. wow babe. look who just robbed the ass store” usually works) so that now both you and your girl can look at her and snark at the same time.
anyway, people of vsb, i need your help. can anybody help me figure this sh*t out?
also, is there any sh*t that you very smart brothas and sistas out there just can’t figure out?
the carpet is yours