“Flying to upstate New York on a day where 90% of New England — including the city I was headed to — had no power“

Each and every guy reading this can probably name several instances where he risked life, limb, sanity, freedom, credit, and the promise of half-priced roasted chicken wings for the pursuit of potential sex. (Yes. Potential sex. Not even definite sex or likely sex. Dudes always have and always will continue to put their lives on the line for the mere possibility of panties.)

These memories — prone to include anything from serial killer baby-daddies and dimly-lit Greyhound bus station bathrooms to $300 first dates and expired condoms — connect us, collectively bonding us one cringe-worthy recollection at a time while also providing concrete evidence to the axiom that men will do whatever we f*cking can to get some ass.

This isn’t suggesting that we’re always willing to throw everything away for the chance to make the beast with two backs, but we’ve all had those weak moments where immediate sexual desire trumps, well, everything.

In my case, I ignored the blackout. I ignored the fact that, at the time, no one knew whether it was a terrorist attack. I ignored the fact that since the city my friend (“Kim”) was in didn’t have any power, she didn’t have a working cell phone, couldn’t find out what time I was arriving, and couldn’t pick me up from the airport. And, most importantly, I ignored the fact that, because we had one of those post-college limbo relationships where you’re not really “friends with benefits” but you’re not exactly platonic either, nothing was guaranteed.

Now, did I risk my life flying to New York state just to get some ass? No. At the time, Kim was a pretty good friend of mine and since I hadn’t seen her in over a year, I was looking forward to hanging out with her. But, if you removed the possibility of p*ssy from the table, there’s no way in hell that I’m making that trip on that day.

I’m reminded of this story every time I hear a person mention the idea that crooked men would eventually straighten up if women just stopped seeing, dating, and sleeping with them. Basically, the idea states, if all the world’s women made a pact to decide that “illegal/immoral activity” = “no draws for you,” all the drug dealers, criminals, and just general assholes in the world would be some Wendy’s value fries making motherf*ckers.

When this point is brought up, there are usually two arguments that people (and by “people” I mean “women”) fall back on to try to refute it.

A) “Why should all the pressure be on women to change? Can’t these men just decide to do right for their own sakes?”

B) “I really can’t believe that men are so sex-influenced that they’d change their behaviors just because they don’t have access to women. Does everything you do revolve around sex?”

Admittedly, it is true that this mindset does put a ton of pressure on women. I can imagine it being quite jarring for a 16 year old girl to hear that her p*ssy can cure hunger, clean the streets, and kill Rick Ross. But, just because something is difficult to hear doesn’t mean that it’s not true.

Yes, the vast majority of what we (men) do is somehow connected to us being more sexually viable. We’re ambitious because ambition makes success more likely, and we ultimately strive to be successful so that we can do things — buy nice cars, live in nice houses, have white maids, etc — that widen our net of realistically obtainable women. The power of p*ssy potential is so vast and so omnipotent that you can convince young men in certain parts of the world to kill themselves (and others) just by telling them that wet, juicy, virgin p*ssy is waiting for them on the other side.

And yes, if women collectively decided to stop having babies with thugs, deadbeats, women beaters, and republicans, there would be no more thugs, deadbeats, women beaters, and republicans. It’s really that simple. No sense in robbing, raping, and murdering if the spoils of your labor didn’t include an automatic concubine or two.

Now, will this ever happen? Will all the planet’s women band together and decide to stop f*cking the Avon Barksdales and Bugsy Siegels of the world? Not likely. It’s quite unfair to ask them to do that. And, even if they did, one rogue ratchet determined to carry Waka Flaka’s seed would spoil the entire operation.

Most importantly, I just don’t know if women are ready to carry that type of accountability. I mean, since the beginning of time, the burden and the blame for all major man-made catastrophes — all wars, most crime, the spread of AIDS, Lil’ Kim’s post-2002 face, etc — has been solely placed on the shoulders of men. I might be wrong, but I doubt women can handle the pressure of being told that each “aint shit dude”-induced orgasm they’ve had has directly contributed to the world’s demise.

Still, a man can dream of a day where worldwide positive p*ssy reinforcement clears every corner, cuts down the world’s crime, and cleans-up every guy’s act. Until then, we’ll continue doing dumb sh*t, risking our limbs and lives for that potential, and women will keep pretending that their p*ssies didn’t kill Tupac.

—The Champ

Also, don’t forget your VSB duty to help keep Panama off the block and The Champ on the wagon and buy “Your Degrees Wont Keep You Warm at Night: The Very Smart Brothas Guide to Dating, Mating, and Fighting Crime”