Tag Archives: love

The One About Self-Awareness.

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I see PRIDE! I see POWER! I SEE A BAD ASS MUDDA WHO DON'T TAKE NO CRAP OFFA NOBODY!!!!

I remember the first time I heard the theory that people are more intimately familiar with who they think they are than who they actually are. Okay, that’s not true at all. I don’t remember when I first heard it, but I do know that when I heard it I immediately said to myself, “self, that’s true”. It makes sense if you think about it. We spend so much time thinking about who we want to be and how we think we come across that reality is like getting slapped in the face with one of Aretha’s areolas, your two ho’s, and a bottle of rum.

With that in mind, over the course of time I’ve come to some conclusions about myself based on what I thought I wanted or who I thought I was and how reality is playing itself out. Some way down like where the signifying monkey used to hang out. Others more shallow than Kim Kardashian in a kiddie pool kickin’ it with two koalas on Koval.

Allons-y.

I thought I wanted to be one of those folks who likes to have deep conversations. It turns out that I want to be one of the people who has deep conversations about ignorant sh*t.

You know Savon from Love Jones? Yeah, I want to be him, except talking about thongs and the importance of Puffy to the fabric of society. But I SO want there to be a drum present. When I buy a house, one of the first things I’m doing is going drum shopping so I can have a truly Black household. All convos will include the drum. I want to talk about how Kool-Aid is truly the key to life and pop culture. I don’t want to talk about important things unless I feel like it. And only on special occasions…like when white people are present. Or in front of Barack Obama, though I’m fairly certain I’d probably talk a little ignant around Obama. The man sings Al Green songs for cripe’s sake. He cool.

I thought I wanted to date women with big hair who had the big hair angst and social justice guilt and conscience who were artsy and blah blah blah. It turns out I just like big hair.

Seems that I couldn’t care about their activism. I just like big hair. Hell, I might actually prefer big haired bougie women. The type with big hair and Coach bags who are as superficial as chicks with perms. I just wanna lay in their hair without the guilt of recycling. Basically, while I love Freddie from A Different World, I’m sure she would have gotten on my last damn nerves when I told her that I thought “Rack City” was empowering to women.

I thought that because I’m a writer and a rapper and an author and talker and because I communicate often I was a good communicator. It turns out that’s not true.

So, despite my uber sharing ass nature, in intimate settings, I can be quite walled off and anti-vulnerable. How’s that for some sh*t that makes no sense. I’m like the Great Communicator Of Useless Information When It Matters Least. I’m Alex Trebek for Dummies. For Relationships.

I thought that majority of my relationships ended because of compatibility issues. It turns out that most of them probably stem from that little communication problem I just shared a few lines ago. No coca-ina.

Now that’s not to say that every relationship that ended didn’t need to end, they probably did. But my inability to communicate properly was probably as culpable for the beginning of the end as any compatibility issue or constant nuisance that I either created or initially found cute but eventually found grating.

I thought that I was one of the few mixed kids who didn’t have an identity issues. It turns out that I do.

Yeah, I can’t decide if I f*ckin’ rock or if I’m f*ckin’ awesome. It’s a conflict that only people of my pedigree can fully appreciate. It’s hard out here for an cool mulatto. Or a culatto.

I often thought that because I was enlightened that I was above certain negativitisms. Turns out my enlightenment helps to inform my ignorance.

This woman cut me off in traffic today. I didn’t call her a b*tch while shaking my fist in my car behind my glass windows. Nope, I called her a wench. Mostly because I like the word and second because I thought calling a woman a b*tch because she’s a woman who pissed me off would make me like every other ignorant man. So wench it was, which I’m fairly certain achieves the EXACT same end as the b-word. I felt bad. But if I didn’t read, I don’t think I’d know the w-word either. Damn you education system for teaching me how to get around general use pejoratives for learned ones! I definitely call ni**as the n-word though.

Anyway, those are some of my self-awarenesses. Sharing is caring people. What you got?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. STEAL YOUR CURL aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

New Web Series: “Ask A Black Man” Featuring Panama Jackson

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Hey strangers!

Liz here. We’re skipping our regular entry today because your very own Panama Jackson was featured in a web series talk show that debuts today on MadameNoire.com. The show is called Ask A Black Man, and it’s all about love, dating, sex and relationships from the male perspective. I happen to be the Executive Producer on the series, so you know if 2/3 of VSB is involved it’s gotta be halfway decent! Ha.

This episode is called “The Life of A SIngle Man” and Panama will also be featured in The Sex Episode premiering on April 11. Make sure you tune into Ask A Black Man every Wednesday for new episodes.

Anyway, press play below or head on over to Episode 1 and watch over there.

 


Tell us what you think about Panama’s Participation! Did he represent well for the 3s?

Well I Wasn’t Beefin, But I Am Now!

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Don't need no words.

In light of yesterday’s post about Ne-yo’s song “When You’re Mad”, I got to thinking about how a lot of beef starts betwixt men and women in the first place. I honestly believe that a vast majority, say 60 percent, of beef between us comes from miscommunication, 10 percent comes from actual doinwrongedness, and the last 30 comes from totally fabricated non-sense helmed at the whimsy of women who drum up issues like a white cat from Georgetown on a djemba drum.

Now it isn’t to say that men can’t drum up issues too. We absolutely can. But let’s be real, most men would prefer to just stroll through life all willy nilly without even the lightest whiff of drama. Frankly, men generally don’t think there’s anything wrong even when wrong is slapping us around with sacks full of nickels. And if we don’t think anything’s wrong, we ain’t bringing anything up to be discussed. Kind of like women never think they’re wrong, men never think anything’s wrong.

How we manage to deal long enough to procreate is beyond me. Thank goodness for pr0n and Coldstone Creamery. No pun intended.

I’ve said it before, and I do truly believe this, that many women need a certain amount of chaos in order to feel comfortable in life. The ability to leave well enough alone makes almost NO sense to so many women I know it’s amazing. The slightest artifact of “difference” requires a full on disclosure that something’s amiss which usually starts a chain of events towards argument and discord. Women are creatures of relationship habit (even if they wish most of our habits would change or at least change upwards towards pretending we’re lovestruck saps who think The Notebook and The Vow are aspirational goals AND good ways to love our women…no.) so as soon as something seems off…even if its not…the problems begin.

And us men? We’re fine…until we’re not because you told us we weren’t fine because I’m not fine even though I am and perhaps you think too much and your quest for security means poking the bear JUST to make sure things are okay by directly implying that things aren’t okay…like…

1. “You seem distant.”

You know how you can spend all day texting mofos back and forth? It’s really a double edged sword. Don’t do it if you can help it. See, its sets up precedence, woman’s favorite noun after “wang”. The moment you get busy and there’s a lull in text messaging, as a man, you either get the “you seem distant” or “what’s the problem?”. Or my personal favorite, “is something up?”

Now, unless there’s a problem (and men would know what the problem is even if we deny it; hey, we suck. Sue us.), we’re like, “naw, I’m good. how are you?” To which she replies with, “well you just haven’t been texting me as much as usual so I figured something must have happened. Oh my gosh? Did your mother die? That has to be the reason you haven’t been texting me today, right?”

At the point the man is like, “naw, i’m cool. I’m chillin” then many women need a reason why he’d change his habit turning an argument that never was into an discussion that shouldn’t be. Why fore come brotha man can’t just be chillin? No wonder the Chinese are winning the wang race, ladies.

2. “you’re so quiet, what’s the matter?”

Um. Nothing. This will be debated for eons, I’m sure of it. But women just cannot believe that men can sit in silence and literally not be thinking about sh*t. Hell, I’m starting to think its a gift AND a talent. We can be driving; getting our kicks on route 66, in silence then all of a sudden, “what are you thinking about?”

Him: Nothing.

Her: You can’t be thinking about nothing. You have to be thinking about something.

Him: Nope. I mean now I’m thinking about you requiring me to be thinking about something as opposed to the peaceful state I was in a few moments ago.

Her: See. You are thinking about something. Tell me about it.

Him: I just want to sit here in silence and chill.

Her: So you’re saying that you don’t want to talk to me?

Him: No, I’m just saying that right now I’d just like to chill because I have nothing to talk about. It has nothing to do with you.

Her: So you are saying you don’t want to talk to me AND you’d rather be silent? That’s f*cked up. Fine.

Fellas all know what “fine” means. It means we just got into argument because my manhood disrupted the woman’s chaos theory of existence.

Oh, and by the way for all you women who are going to say, “Panama, I don’t know what kind of immature women you deal with who would act like that.” Poppycock. I deal with you. Yes, the general and universal “you”. I’ve had this EXACT same instance come up with every.single.woman. I’ve ever dated.

And I’m sure every dude has too.

3. “Well, do you want me to do XYZ?”

Ladies, come close. Common. Why is it so imperative for every motherlovin’ situation to come with a stamp from the man saying that he explicitly WANTS you to do something? I honestly think that annoys us more than anything. If I ask you if you’re going to do something with me, why must you the mindf*ck the situation by manipulating me into saying that I do indeed want you to do it. If I ask, it’s because I’m good with you doing it. I honestly want to understand that one. What’s the big damn deal with that one ladies!?!?!?!? Make it make sense. Touch it on the inside.

So ladies, help me understand those statements and need for whatever it is that’s needed that would force some of you all to ask those questions the way that you do the things that you do. Men are listening. We want to know.

And ladies, what do men do say and ask that drives you nuts? I believe in fairness and it is Friday. Let ‘errr rip.

Put ‘em on the glass people.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. GLASSMAN JUGGLEM aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Don’t forget that tomorrow night in DC is #ReminisiceDC, at Liv Nightclub! Free entry before 11pm with RSVP (www.reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) ($10 after). OPEN BAR from 930-1030pm and no dress code. DOORS at 930PM. Come party with Panama!!

When You’re Mad?

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I love the entertainment industry.

Girl, seeing you all mad just makes me want to jump your bones. Nevermind that I spent all of your savings. Yousofine!

Where else can you live out your wildest dreams and be the person you always wished you could be despite obvious physical and aesthetic limitations or the constant failures of reality.

Such is the case with Ne-Yo (who also provided the most baffling character ever in Red Tails, a truly sh*tty movie. Seriously, who signed off on that role? Damn you George Lucas).

It’s no secret that I watch videos incessantly. Hell, I can spend a whole day just watching MTV Jams and vh1 Soul. This past weekend, I resawed Ne-Yo’s video for the song “When You’re Mad”, some six or seven years after its debut.  It’s not a bad song, though I do think that the song’s message will be wildly misconstrued and result in some poor sap getting his ass straight mollywopped by his girl for smirking when she’s truly pissed off.

Of course, that would require anybody to actually care about Ne-Yo and I suppose that’s another beast altogether. Real talk, go see Red Tails and understand why Ne-yo should never matter.

I’ll get to the premise later. Let’s start with Ne-Yo.

I remember a long (!!!) time ago when Mr. Cheeks video for “Lights, Camera, Action” came out. In the beginning of that video, when Mr. Cheeks enters the club, the “cheeks” lights go off and all the strippers know that he’s in the building. You see, in his video, Mr. Cheeks is akin to the president. When Cheeks shows up, the cheeks show up. Get it?

Me and my boys used to get a kick out of the video because the video hoes really sold the idea that Mr. Cheeks was indeed that important. Unrealistic? Of course, but in Mr. Cheeks video, he gets to be God. You have to love the opportunities that come to people who probably aren’t nearly as cool as they come off in videos.

Ne-Yo, bless his heart, is not an attractive man. Yet, in his videos, he gets to be the hearthrob; he is the man that women covet and for who’s back his woman has to watch. Usher he is not, but in his videos, he can be Denzel and his flock a gaggle of 30-50 year old black women.

I don’t care what anybody says, America is a great place.

This song, “When You’re Mad” is about how Ne-Yo can’t help but be carnally turned on whenever his girlfriend gets upset with him. He just wants to tear her up when she gets that little wrinkle-nosed face going on because he has ticked her off. Throughout the video is a montage of women with various pissed off faces and demeanors that I suppose (it is a video remember) make Ne-Yo feel rather randy. I’ll admit, it’s a rather “cute” video. It made me chuckle a time or two at the various reason his woman chose to be pissed at him.

However, I think the video seriously understates how “mad” a woman just may be and an appropalate course of action. And if you’ve seen the movie Trippin’ you will know that appropalate is indeed a real word.

Y’alls is some real dubiostic types.

(By the way, yes, again, I realize that its just a video. Thanks, MGMT)

What it seems to me is that his girl isn’t actually mad, she’s more just ticked off. Temporarily to boot. There is no mad going on here. His girl sees him taking pictures with “fans” and gets upset. Basically, his girl is jealous that he gives other women attention. Sucks for her…I mean doesn’t she realize she’s dating Ne-Yo. International superstar Ne-Yo?????

*crickets*

Like I said. It’s his video.

Thing is, there is no real just cause to be pissed so usually, a smile, a chuckle, and a “baby, why you trippin, you know I only love you” would suffice in most of these instances. Followed by a, “hey, you want me to keep getting you nice things? You do. Then I suggest you shut the fuck up.”

Then again. She isn’t mad.

Has anybody here ever dated somebody and either you or they got royally pissed??

*hands shoot up across the globe*

Was your first thought ever to really smile and then try to jump their bones? No? Me neither. When I get truly pissed, which has only happened a few times…I see red. It ain’t no lovely lush blues and yellows that inspire my loins.

Wow. I’ve said some pretty suspect shit in my day, but I think, “lush blues and yellows that inspire my loins” might just top the list.

Cry for me Argentina.

Now, I realize I’m being a stickler for details and accuracy here and I know its just a fun song intended to explain to women how them being upset with men makes men all turned on and shit. I’m just afraid some poor little kid is going to see this video and think that when his girl gets mad at him, it is totally okay to turn to an imaginary camera, chuckle twice, then look at her and go try to lay the ass-smackdown on her. He just might catch an eye-jammy.

This just brings up another point. There is a big difference between a woman being upset/slightly ticked off and her being mad or truly pissed. The former is usually a very temporary thing and can be resolved with a well timed, “baby, why you trippin’. Girl you know I-I-I-I love you. I will give you the sun the moon the stars the sky and the mountains…I’ll give you the worrrrrrrrrrrld. Baby, smile for me so I can see Heaven in your eyes.” You know, something along those lines. Basically, small little petty shit that most humans are bound to irrationally fall victim too from time to time. It happens to everybody.

The latter however, which would be the “mad or truly pissed” part, well thats a little different. If you have truly pissed off your woman, it’s gonna take more than a “girl i love you” to appease her. You must have done something like showed up with a box of condoms and one was missing. Despite the fact that you are truly just a juvenile male and used one to hang from your next door neighbors doorknob, you will be in trouble. Or maybe you didn’t show up when you said you were going to show up and your girl was stuck in the middle of Ohio all alone or some shit. Those things will not be resolved shortly.

You know, I don’t feel like discussing this anymore.

Bottom line, I’m concerned for the kids who will watch these videos and be influenced negatively since videos and music dictate our lives and I’m concerned about marriage in America.

So ladies, question, can a little sexual attention take you out of your upset or angry stupor? We’re trying to save relationships here. Help brothas out. Or was Ne-yo trying to get men killed with that message he was sending to both men and women?

Brothas have you ever just laughed at your girl being mad and tried to jump her bones successfully? And ladies, would you be upset with your man if he tried to get all carnal on that arse after a spat, or does it just depend on how pissed you are?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. NE-YO I AM NOT aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Peep the flyer for the party in DC this Saturday, also serving as the official afterparty for The Musicianship Diane Grainger Tribute featuring Afro Blue (cop tickets now! I’ll be there)…holla at ya hustla! RSVP for free admission before 11pm!

 

 

 

My Daughter, My Valentine.

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A few weeks ago, somebody asked me what the best part about being a pappy was. My response was that the best part had something to do with having a built in best friend and a pal who was just genuinely happy to be doing anything with you. If you want to throw rocks at old people walking along the street, your kid will be all.about.that.

But kids add all types of fun dimensions to your life. For instance, I could go see

This picture made me want Skittles. What? Happy Valentine's Day muda skunts.

Beauty & The Beast with daughter in tow and NOBODY would think there was anything odd or wrong with that. Nevermind the fact that I wanted to go see it. Kids are the best out ever.

Alllllllllllllways. No Atlantic Starr.

Well, another great facet is that you have a built in Valentine. See, I’m aware that Valentine’s Day sucks for a lot of people. And by people, I mean women. Very few men could give a flying f*ck about Valentine’s Day. In fact, as a man, the main reason the majority of us do anything for our women on Valentine’s Day is because she’s so looking forward to…us doing something for her. If men didn’t have to go out and buy random odds and ends just because some random ass person came up with this random day eons ago then we wouldn’t.

Interestingly enough, Valentine’s Day is the only day per year where even the most thugged out of individual can walk down the street with a balloon that says “Sweety Pie” and a wrapped up dozen roses without anybody judging or questioning if he’ll murder them. It’s also the one day where you’ve got t put the thug back on the shelf because its really hard to look intimidating in the checkout line at Giant with a box of chocolates and a lily. And homeboy, buy more than one next year.

Back to my daughter. Having a daughter is about as sweet as it gets come days like Valentine’s Day. See, having a little girl brings out a certain sensitivity in most men. Your daughter is the woman in your life that you want to be happy at all times. So even if you don’t get into Valentine’s Day, somehow, someway, you still want to do something nice for your daughter JUST so she’ll always know that her father remembered days likes Valentine’s Day so that when the man she ultimately chooses to deal with in the future DOES forget, she realizes that she can do better like Drake singing an Adele song written by Babyface and Marques Houston.

The fact that I have a built in Valentine every year is one of those things that genuinely puts a smile on my face. Will she remember the random balloon two years from now? Nope. Will I remember the smile she had because she’s still young enough to get insane amounts of joy out of a balloon? Absolutely. And it’s worth it every time. Being a parent is obviously no walk in the park, though it’s one of the most rewarding jobs on the planet. But making days like Valentine’s Day matter because there’s a little princess in the picture? Well, that’s what makes life worth living.

Besides, my daughter will actually be completely content with a balloon, one flower, and a stuffed animal. How many women would be okay with that? More than I think, probably. But I’ll be willing to be all of your lunch money that most men think that they do a better job at Valentine’s Day than we really do. It’s just another reason why women are in the “Who Sucks The Least” race in Black America because I saw all of your/their boyfriends in line tonight while I was getting some Crisco. Your gifts are about to suck ladies.

I promise.

But not to my daughter. Not to my favorite person on the planet. And not to my numero uno Valentine for life.

Was this a sappy post? Perhaps. Was it honest. Absolutely. And you can’t whip my a** anyway.

Happy Valentine’s Day to those who don’t hate the day. Happy 14th to those who do. Every day is the 14th.

What’s your Valentine’s Day looking like? Do you like Valentine’s Day? Hate it? Do you refuse to celebrate it? Why or why not?

And fellas…if you have to go see The Vow, it’s okay. You’ve got a friend in me.

Love 40.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. SHUGGIE VALENTINO aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3