5 signs that you just might have to marry her ass

yo, son: when you gonna stop d*ckin around and marry her ass?”

even though we all know a chick or three that would cut her closest homegirl’s throat if forced to choose between her and her man, the prevailing thought is that a woman’s girlfriends have an unparalleled influence on who she chooses to date.

in truth, a man’s best friend actually welds more power than any other third party.

noone, not his dad, his deacon, or his dealer has as much “she aint right for you, dog” veto power as a guy’s acebooncoon. even if they’re not exactly paragons of relationship health themselves, they’re usually ultra cynical genius-level bullshit detectors when it comes to who their homie happens to be dating because they knowknow you better than anyone else, and truly want you to be happy.

because of this, men need to pay extra close attention when their best friend asks em, “when you gonna stop dickin around and marry her ass?”, because any woman your best friend would actually say that about is definitely a keeper, even if you haven’t realized it.

anyway, although countless viewings of the obama calenders in our cubicles have given us an idea of what a keeper might look like, many of us wouldn’t recognize a. keeper even if she were giving us a lapdance while rocking twin “hi. i’m a. keeper” tassels on her chest.

this is even more pronounced with brothas who, educated or not, all could use a bit more help figuring out that there’s no real correlation between ring-worthiness and ass-to-waist ratio.

to help our vsb’s out, and as another example of our crime-fighting ideals, here’s four more signs that she’s probably a keeper…and you just might have to marry her ass: Continue reading

enhance deez: the great artificial enhancement debate

shana-luxury-john-starks

to0 stupid to see the irony in rocking a $150 fishing hat while living in your parent’s spare bedroom, i purchased a white burberry bucket cap from saks in may of 2002.

unfortunately, by the end of that summer the streets of the burgh became so infested with bootleg louie and burberry fashion indistinguishable from the real thing that i eventually retired it in august, hilariously pissed at how those “analog n*ggas were messing up my market value!!”

i thought of this sad situation because it was the only analogy i could think of to possibly compare to how a naturally curvy woman might feel when going to a nightclub and seeing men ogle over the minotaur pictured above. Continue reading