That’s A Catfish!

You aint tell me you had whiskers tho. Youse a lie and youse a cheat and I don’t want ya!

It seems like the MTV show Catfish! has taken over mainstream consciousness now. I’ve read articles about it and before I saw my first episode, no less than five people had asked me if I’d seen it.

For those who haven’t, the show is a spinoff of a documentary called Catfish created by  filmmakers Ariel and “Nev” Schulman who found himself in a long distance relationship via the Internet with a chick named Megan who ended up being an older woman named Angela who’d created a fake profile using pictures of somebody else and maintaned the lie for as long as possible, etc. Shenanigans ensue. Basically, somebody got okeydoked on the Internet.

You know, the usual.

Anyway, the documentary was spun into an MTV series where Nev helps folks connect with their Internet interests who have managed to hide their identities and come up with reasons to never meet up. Now, some of these episodes highlight a darker side of American culture: namely, many of us aren’t that bright. And are extremely, extremely naive.

It ALSO highlights how pressed people are to find love. This isn’t a bad thing mind you, but the amount of red flags people are willing to forego to maintain contact with this person they’ve rarely spoken to and largely only texted or chatted with is amazing. Oh, and in this world, Skype doesn’t exist. This is very important to remember. Or is broken. Skype breaks sometimes.

In most of the episodes I’ve seen, the person behind the love interest is never who they claimed to be and sadness usually ensues. Let’s just say you should check it out. Since so many people make connections via the Internet nowadays (Facebook, Twitter, dating sites, etc) there’s a good chance that a large number of us have met folks in real life that we were introduced to via the Internet. I can’t tell you how many folks I’ve met in the real world b/c of VSB. You know why I can’t tell you? Because it’s a lot.

Well, I figured that I’d tell you all about a few Catfish like situations I’ve found myself in. Because they do and have happened. To be fair, most of these were well before FB existed and before Google even. Yes, all of these interactions were created via the world’s first online night club…

AOL Chatrooms.

Background first. Back in the late 90s everybody was in those AOL chatrooms. I’m still friends today with some people I met in those chatrooms in the late 90s or early 2000s. Like 2000. Two people are folks I count as true friends of mine. The other good friends I’ve met online have usually come via blogging. But back then they didn’t want me now I’m hot they all want me AOL chatrooms were my sh*t. I can’t remember the names of them but they were entertaining. I do remember screennames though. I won’t put them out there like that, but I do remember.

There were two particular individuals who stuck out to me. Now remember I was back in school during this time. So I remember meeting this one young lady via one of those chatrooms and we ended up becoming friends. We’d IM at all hours and have deep convos about life and stuff. We talked a few times…

(By the way, these scenarios aren’t real Catfish moments like in the show…there’s no surprise endings like they weren’t who they said…just not what I expected or odd Internet encounters…)

…and I was like, yo, we should meet up. After all, she went to one of the other schools in the AUC (Atlanta University Center – Morehouse, Spelman, Clark-Atlanta, Morris Brown, ITC). So we set it up to meet on “the strip” the popular hang out spot on CAU’s campus. This one particular day there was NOBODY on the strip. So I’m sitting there waiting. Now, this chick told me she was an athlete. Let me rephrase…told me she “had been” an athlete. So I’m looking for a slender-ish athletic chick to come traipsing up the walk. About ten minutes after I got there comes this rather portly (not there’s anything wrong with that) young lady who looked nothing like the person as had been described to me. She walks up, introduces herself to me and we sit down. Now, I’m not a total douche so I wasn’t rude but I definitely felt untruthed to. She was like 4’11″ as well. Basically I was looking for the athlete in her. Anyway, we talk for a second then she looks at me…

…then smells me neck. All up in my personal space. Needless to say I was taken fully aback by this. I distanced myself from her at that moment and she told me that’s how she tells if people are nice. She smells their necks.

Look, I ain’t saying it aint a way to do it. I’m just feeling like there are others ways to do it, ya dig? Well, we chatted for a few more minutes and then I’m pretty sure I bounced quickly. We talked a few more times but that tailed off after a while. I’d see her around campus on occasion. But we didn’t talk much more after that as I stopped reaching out and then we faded to black. Maybe my neck stank.

Then there’s the stripper that chased me down the strip that day. (Yes that happened. And no it has nothing to do with anything).

Then there’s that chick who told me she looked like a particularly hot African-American comedienne who only sent me pics of her from the eyes up. From like 10 feet away. Who would never meet up with me. Ever.

Point is, we’ve all got stories of mishapped meetings. Or folks who weren’t who we thought they were. Hell, that’s happened here at VSB with folks thinking we were going to be different than we were. Maybe it turned out better – that did happen to me once.

Lawd did that happen once. F*cked up my whole perception of a certain American city I have since wanted to visit.

So what’s your story. Let’s get some levity on this here Friday!

No more drama!

What’s your “catfish” story?



Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Pretty sure this guy is going to lie to you ladies.

I have a serious question. I know, I know. Normally when I say I have a serious question, its not really that serious. In fact it’s the anti-serious, kind of like how painting a macrame scarf (WTF?) can be somebody’s anti-drug. Again, this one is serious.


Have any of you people every met somebody in real life that was actually…breathtaking? Or stunning? Or somebody that actually took your breath away on sight?

See? Serious.

I thought really long and hard about this one day and I realized that I’ve never actually seen a woman with my own two eyes who I’ve deemed as either of those terms. But men especially thrown those words out at women like darts – BONG BONG – when we meet them. Hell, Marcus Graham called Skeletor breathtaking when he met her by the elevators in Boomerang. And it was game then obviously. Mostly because Jacqueline Broyer was not, in fact, breathtaking.

Let’s get this out the way. Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But there are two things that are fact: busted as the f*ck and absolutely banging. At least in the realm of female attractiveness. The middle tier (or the 90 percent non-outliers on the bell curve) all come down to personal preference really. But it never fails, you go out and there is some simp ninja telling some woman who couldn’t take anybody’s breath if she was a starring alien in Lifeforce.

Here’s an anecdote that might refute most of what I’m saying and prove it at the same time. I know I contradicted myself, look I don’t need that now. There has been once in my entire life where a woman has stopped me dead in my tracks. I was at Lenox Square Mall in Atlanta in like 2003 and Mick’s was still open. It was the summer and I was visiting from out of town and I walked into the Foot Locker entrance. I walked around the banister and and saw a homegirl of mine that used to date one of my boys. I saw her from a distance because she was lightskint as all hell.

Anyway, as I start to approach her I actually stopped dead in my tracks and just yelled out “DAMN!” I was stunned for 1.5 seconds by just how absolutely gorgeous she looked.

And she was at work. As a waitress. At a restaurant. Not dolled up or anything. I can honestly say that I’ve never had that reaction since.

Even when I see her now I don’t have the same reaction though she can live off of that one day forever for all I care. Point is, I’ve lived a good long life thus far and have seen scores of women. Definitely at least four score. Now perhaps my standards are a bit high (fairly or unfairly) but superbad is superbad whether your a pr0n star or a librarian. Pr0n star librarians get extra points. That’s what mama used to say. She also told me to take my time young man and don’t rush to get old. But that’s neither here nor there.

All this to say, every time I hear a dude say that some woman is breathtaking or stunning…I think he’s lying. Every.Time.

But my guess is that men say it because women eat it up. Also, I can’t imagine a woman actually telling a man that he was either of those things. That’s too much of a leg up for him. She’ll end up naked before she can spell out whatever word she used to compliment him. I have had plenty of women tell me that they thought some particular chap was “gorgeous” or “beautiful”. I’m never quite sure what to do with that information. In fact, as I re-read what I just wrote, I’m not even sure what to do with that. And I wrote it.

Ladies, if you call me beautiful, I’m assuming that means you want my wang.

Anyway, good people of the V.S.B., have you ever actually met anybody who you’d consider to be breahtaking, etc? And more importantly, ladies, just how much do you think men lie to get you interested? If a man were to tell you that he thought you were stunning, would you believe him? (If your ego wasn’t involved)? Fellas, have you ever told a woman she was breathtaking…and didn’t mean it but thought she wanted to hear it?

Let’s help that chick stuck lonely at the bar people. Help her


Lies, Damn Lies, and Wonderbras.

Fact. Men are fascinated by female-parts. We appreciate curves and love to play Guess What’s Under That Dress, despite knowing exactly what’s under that dress.

With that in mind, Colonel Sanders isn’t the only man who’s got breasts on the brain all day long. It is with this in mind and also with great dismay that I must say that wonderbras are the most evil and vile invention known to humankind.

Wonderbras are deception and deception is evil. I’m sure it’s in the Bible somewhere. Probably in Tupac 6:16 or something – but I’m sure it’s in there. And do you know why wonderbras are evil?

Before we answer this, let’s talk about deception. For example…if I meet you in the club and you CLEARLY had two legs when you were at the bar, and you fail to mention that one of them belongs to the lab up the street, but I get your number and we go out and then one day when things go “there” between us you remove your fake leg…well, I’m going to be pissed. And I’m not going to be pissed that you have a fake leg, I have no problem with that. I’m going to be pissed that you didn’t think I was big enough of a person to tell me until the very last moment for fear that I wouldn’t like you anymore!! You deceived me and you know what…

…it hurts.

Though it can’t hurt worse than being thrown out of my place for frontin’ like you had two legs. And there is nothing wrong with only having one leg. I applaud the spirit many one legged folks have. Clearly, they are well versed in dealing with unfair situations. I, however, do not like deception. And if you are up in the club with TWO legs and a week later you only have ONE and you HAVEN’T been in a car accident, well, I’m just saying I won’t date you anymore. Not sure how you bring it up in the club, but if I have to find out on my own that you got a fake leg, AND I MET YOU IN THE CLUB, (which means it was all physical attraction) then you, madam, are a liar.

And nowhere is this fact truer than in the case of the most evil: wonder bras.

Wonder bras are deception at its finest. They play up on man’s fascination with breasts and our attraction to them and lead us astray!! They intentionally deceive. They are evil. Now I’ll admit, men’s obsession with breasts is clearly the culprit here. HOWEVER, a woman will know this and enhance her own, in order to lure the man into her web…ONLY to have to be found out later (assuming it gets there) that she was indeed telling untruths about herself. And this isn’t like makeup where SOME semblance of your face has to be present, though, I’ll admit I’ve met some women who basically had to remove a whole face in order to get to who they really were:


Anyway, wonderbras are lies. All lies. I can’t help the fact that women’s assets are on display and men’s aren’t. If a dude even starts bragging on the size of his Army, well, then you have grounds for dismissal if you find he has been lying. It’s the same thing intentional deception in hopes of securing personal gain. But see, the man only has his mouthpiece (unless of course somebody pulls your shit out in the club or amusement park or church), women have let wonderbras do all the talking for them.

Wonderbras make liars out of good women…

…because wonder bras are evil.