REMINISCE – Saturday, March 1st | VSB Tees Final Sale Days!

REM MARCHTHIS SATURDAY! Reminisce is once again back at it! FREE before 11pm with RSVP ($10 otherwise), an OPEN BAR from 930-1030, and NO DRESS CODE! Straight house party vibe all night. So come kick it with the cool kids!



frontWe’re down to the FINAL DAYS of sales for the VSB tees!! We’re almost at the goal! So if you’ve been waiting til the last minute (I’m one of those people too), come on and cop yours today! They’re so fresh and so clean clean. I’m so excited to get mine so I can tell people that I read VSB!!!!! Pshaw! So head on over to our shop on Teespring:

Get yours today!



DC: POP LIFE *NEW PARTY ALERT* | Saturday, January 18th

POPlife_011213Quick backstory: I’m not a promoter. Or at least I don’t fancy myself to be one. What had happened was though is that I realized at some point that there weren’t many parties I actually wanted to go to. Sure I could go to most clubs in DC and hear what I heard on the radio, but what about a party for people like myself who were perhaps overly nostalgic. So the idea for Reminisce was born out of this desire to attend a party where I wanted to hear the music I loved. Sometimes the best way to have the fun you want is to create it.

Similarly, that’s how this new party, Pop Life came to be. I LOVE me some 80s and 90s Top 40s music. So we decided to give this a go as well. Hence Pop Life.

Pop Life | Best of 80s Top 40s

DJ Dredd | DJ Eskimo

Free with RSVP Before MIDNIGHT | OPEN BAR 930-1030 (It’s literally cheaper to come out and party with us for a bit than staying at home)

LIV Nightclub | 2001 11th Street NW, Washington, DC 20001


The Transformative and Transcendent Power of The Twerk


My memory of this memory gets increasingly fuzzy by the year. But, this is what I remember. (Well, what I think I remember.)

I was 18. She had on white pants and a black tank. She was light brown skinned, and built like Free after breaking a month long juice fast with a salmon burger. I thought she smelled like peaches and honey, and I complimented her fragrance, but years later I realized that smell was actually Alize Gold Passion.

We made eye contact when Heads High—my third all time favorite college-era dancehall track that doesn’t graphically depict the murder of homosexuals in the chorus—pumped through the speakers. I reached for her hand. She grabbed it, allowed me to pull her towards me, and turned her back, pressing her pants against my trendy Mecca sweats.

She grinded slowly for the entire first verse. I had no idea where to put my hands, and thought about putting them in my pockets until I looked around and realized I’d be the only person on the entire dance floor with their hands in their pockets.

When the chorus started, she reached back and put her hands behind my neck, making the dance even more intimate. I was harder than a Chinese math test on a Braille chalkboard. (No, that didn’t make any sense to me either.)

Sometime during the middle of the second verse, she bent over, balancing herself by placing her hands on a very tiny table. (It was an oddly constructed dance floor.)

We stayed in that position until the end of the song. She effectively using me as a twerk prop, and me still not knowing what the hell to do with my hands.

When the song ended, she bounced up from her awkward position, turned, smiled at me, and walked away. I started to follow her, but my wang was still too hard for me to move anywhere without poking someone in the stomach, so I spent a couple moments thinking about chickens (Don’t ask) until I was flaccid enough to move again.

I looked, but I couldn’t find her. Dejected, I thought about chickens some more and went to go talk to my man.

I saw her again as we were about to leave. I was sitting in my man’s car, and he was talking to her and her friend, trying to get on the friend.

Moments later, he came back to the car. As we pulled off, he asked me a question.

“Are you gay?”


“You heard me, n*gga.”

“No. Why?”

“When I was talking to that chick just now, her girl said she was feeling you, but you aint try to touch her or get her number or nothing. What’s wrong with you? She was fine as f*ck.”

“I know. But…chickens.”

“Yeah. You’re definitely gay.”

This all happened at a party in Canada the spring of my senior year of high school. I was visiting one of the colleges that offered me a basketball scholarship. My “man” was a junior on the team, and my host for the weekend.

The coaches took me out for breakfast the following morning, and gave me the full spiel about how much they wanted me to go there, and how great it would be for me. When breakfast was over, I signed the scholarship papers.

Before the party the night before, I still hadn’t made up my mind on where I wanted to go. I’m not going to say that the grind/twerk session convinced me to make an academic and athletic decision that would impact the rest of my life…but the grind/twerk session convinced me to make an academic and athletic decision that would impact the rest of my life.

Why am I telling this story today?  Well, between T.W.A.T., #abcreports, the excessive use of a word no one even know existed until like last March, and the false but still hilarious anti-twerking measures at Hampton, twerking has had a bad week. I thought it would be a good idea to remind everyone of it’s transformative and transcendent power.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who believes in twerking, though. People of VSB, share your stories! How has twerking been good for you? What benefit has the twerk provided you? Did a timely twerk session alter your life? When did you first fall in love with the twerk team? When was the last time you twerked or were twerked on?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

The VSB 10 Point Guide To An HBCU Homecoming

Most Black people know other Black folks (and some white people too) who have gone to an HBCU. A long time ago I wrote a How-To-Guide-To-Homecoming and since it’s October – generally homecoming season for all schools – I figured I’d rehash it. Actually, its almost the end of October so this will only help out anybody who attends schools with homecoming coming up…like Morehouse and Spelman. And NC A&T who swears they have the GHOE. Aggie Pride and what not.

Anyway, here’s a homecoming primer of sorts…

1. Get to the airport early…unless your really excited about going to homecoming. The more excited you are the greater your chance of having your flight delayed for NO apparent reason leaving from Washington-Dulles International Airport. This will cause you to have to find something to do for, hell I don’t know, 2 hours in a terminal that only has two stores…Starbucks and a Fox News Channel store. I think God was playing with me. To remedy this I suggest having a drink at the airport. Nothing says homecoming like getting tipsy before you even get there.

2. Be prepared to drink for the whole weekend. This includes arriving to the homecoming spot and getting lit up from the second you walk into your homeboy’s house. This is possible by having a young woman in a house full of dudes making drinks that for some reason pack more of a punch than Mike Tyson in his prime walking around Bolivion. Also be prepared to not go anywhere for the rest of the evening…because you will forget that somebody needs to be the designated driver, and everybody in said place is drunk.

Addendum to #2: On the off chance that somebody does show up who isn’t drunk. Have him take you to Waffle House. Just make sure that bitch isn’t being robbed at 2am when you decide to go there. Basically, make sure you know where another Waffle House is just in case the one you stop by…is being robbed.

3. Get thee to a club. It’s very important to take pictures you won’t remember taking, and having conversations that would obviously never occur unless you are inebriated, so go to a club that has a huge dance floor and lots of people. Drunk dancing is the most fun dancing you can have. But drunk crossing the street…GOT DAMN that is hands down the most challenging sh*t. Crossing Peachtree Street in Atlanta, GA, is like playing Frogger if you have been drinking a lot of anything. I suggest this at least once.

4. Now this step is very important. Wake up the next morning.

5. Plan appropriately for the tailgate. Now this is very very important. It involves proper time management. There is this drink that has been dubbed Uncle Ricky’s Punch (hereafter known as the Punch). It is hands down a delicassy. One of my boys cooks this crack in his kitchen. It is important to have White Grape Peach juice for this. If you aren’t careful, finding some damn White Grape Peach juice can take you over 2 hours and send you to both Wal-mart and Krogers. I’m just saying…plan ahead for that or you’ll be pissed because you are trying to get to the tailgate and you end up driving around Southwest Atlanta (SWATS…I miss when this used to be known nationwide) and into neighborhoods you didn’t even know existed and fear for your life ultimately ending up leaving like 2 hours later than you planned when you already woke up late…over some damn White Grape Peach Juice.

6. More tailgatery. After the Punch has been made…TASTE IT. If you don’t feel a single thing after drinking it, it’s perfect. You now know you will be drunk by the time you leave from the tailgate…of course you have to get there. Which reminds me…if possible, do not try to pack 6 GROWN ass people into a Honda Civic. Or better yet…ask to drive. NOTHING, I repeat NOTHING was more uncomfortable and joke inducing than grown ass people literally sitting on eachother. I mean, we all got jobs and shit. It just didn’t seem right.

7. Get to the tailgate and walk around and enjoy being a graduate of Morehouse your school and love seeing all the black folks you haven’t seen in a year and just enjoy life all around. Also…be prepared. Saturday is always somewhat a blur for me. I usually get more phone numbers and business cards than I can even remember. Thanks to the Punch. Also, don’t get greedy with the punch…share the punch and you’ll have strange women coming up to you later talking about how good that damn punch is and giving you wonderful hugs.

8. Please oh please find out where the hot spot is. Going to the right club during homecoming is vital. EVERYBODY is throwing a party. That means that one of them bitches is going to be empty. To avoid ending up there, stay in constant contact with lots of different people via Twitter and texting. Upon finding the right spot…don’t drink anything else liquor related. You will not feel good. And, have a good damn time. Get your boogie on.

9. You will be tired at this point. So let me remix that last sentence, get your boogie on as much as your body will let you. But always always always…make time to hit up the dance floor when any southern crunk song or “It’s time for the perculator…” comes on. This is vital.

By this point…your homecoming experience is almost over and sad thoughts of having to say good-bye will creep in when you leave the club. You will no longer be drunk…just happy that you were there…which leads to the final step.

10. Don’t take your friends for granted. If you actually have friends you are really lucky. If you have about 20 folks you can honestly call GOOD friends…well, consider yourself to one of the luckiest bastards on earth.

Happy Homecoming!


We’re in the homestretch for our Indiegogo campaign! It’s the last week and the great push. As always, we appreciate those who have donated and are sending out an SOS to those folks who like to wait until the last minute, like I do, to donate. We’re halfway to our goal which is great, but we know we can get further to our goal. Let’s all help save some kittens and donate to the VSB Series!!!