How A Glass Of Water Can F*ck Up Your Day

Sprinkle me.

I believe in Darwinism. I believe in natural selection. I believe that closed mouths don’t get fed. I believe the children are our future. I believe I can fly. I believe in miracles. The point is, I believe in a lot of things.

Well, I also believe that if you wanted something bad enough, you’d get up and get it yourself. Or that you at least wouldn’t turn every unrequited request into a relationship test. And this goes for men and women. I hated Scantron so trust and believe I hate it even more when motherlovers and fothermuckers try to test me more than the USOC.

With that in mind, I’d like to present a scenario that probably plays out frequently in homes across America. I’d say the world but they ain’t playin’ this in the Middle East. Word to the Ayatollah. (Just kidding, I’m all for gender equality. Peace up, A-town down)

Have you seen A Time To Kill? Well close your eyes then. Now open them. Now close them. Now open them. You just blinked. Twice. Now imagine that little girl was white!

Moving on.

So, here we go, yo? Here we go, yo? So what, so what, so what’s the scenario?

Imagine that two individuals – a man and a woman are sitting on a couch. Let’s say that they are both intently watching Law & Order: SVU, a show that – let’s be real – can cause you to lose an entire day when they’re running a marathon. OR f*ck that, to be more accurate, let’s say a basketball game is on: Miami Heat vs OKC Thunder. Fourth quarter.

Girl: Hey boy hey, I’m thirsty.

Guy: I hate it when that happens. One time when I was thirsty I got up and got a drink from the kitchen. It’s like a place that has food and drink. Never knew it was there til I knew, ya know? Totally f*cked up my worldview. Worked though. Crazy, right?

Girl: Smart ass. Can you go get it for me?

Guy: Why can’t you get it? I’m watching the game and you’re closer to the kitchen than I am.

Girl: Well, I want you to go get it for me. I can wait until the game is off or for a commercial.

Guy: Are you for real? You must not be that thirsty.

Girl: Oh, I am. But I can wait. I don’t feel like getting it.

Guy: *puzzled* But that makes no sense because you’re going to be waiting for a while. If you were really thirsty you’d get it yourself, which means you aren’t thirsty, you just want me to get up and get you something to drink either to show you that I don’t mind being inconvenienced while I’m doing something I want to do or you’re evil. Which one is it?

Girl: Neither, why does it have to be all that. Jeez. I just want something to drink and I want you to get it for me. Why is that such a big damn deal? Is it so bad to do something for your girlfriend? You didn’t hear me complain when I made your plate!

Guy: I also didn’t ask you to do that nor would I. I could have made my own plate but you insisted. And I’ll get you the drink after the game but I’m saying, the fact that its more important that I get it for you than you actually having your thirst quenched is baffling to me.

Girl: You know what, forget it. I don’t see what the big damn deal is after everything I do for you. *gets up huffing and puffing and visibly pissed*

Guy: I never said I wouldn’t get it I just don’t understand… *getting up to follow her to a kitchen where she’s already gotten her drink*


Now, what we have here is obviously a male-centric, biased view of an ordinary request for something to drink. And in all fairness, in most cases, a dude is going to end up getting the drink anyway. But there are some times when we actually do feel like you’re making a request at a mad inconvenient time AND then it becomes a game of Relationship Test. Somehow, the request isn’t about what you needed in the first place – if you were really that damn thirsty, you’d get your happy ass up and get a drink – but about the fact that we didn’t just do it or pushed back. Then the pride kicks in and it becomes a struggle between good and evil (I’ll let you figure out who’s who) that is going to end up with both people not having a good night.

Granted, the chances of this exploding into a much larger argument about the relationship are probably only slightly larger than the chance that a VSB reader won the Powerball, but the point is, why does it have to be all of that? It’s the same thing with the convo from yesterday about men being attentive and noticing a woman is cold and getting her a blanket while she is noticeably freezing. Except if you’re cold, why not just get the damn blanket yourself (to any woman who would do this, and there are more than just a few) instead of being mad that I’m not paying enough attention. That’s how the dinosaurs died. They were waiting for somebody to save them. My guess is they were waiting for Ne-Yo since “Let Me Love You” is the most captain save-a-ho ass song I’ve heard in at least a decade. It’s just got a dancier beat so you almost don’t realize how ridiculous it is.

And it is ridiculous.

Point is, what gives. What’s more important in this situation, quenching your thirst or that I make it possible for your thirst to be quenched. And for those who think this situation is a no-brainer, you’ve all undoubtedly been in a situation like this at some point where either you or your significant other made a request you thought was ridiculous and it devolved into a discussion about its ridiculousness and ended up pissing off everybody involved.

What say you? Is bruh’man from the fif floor being lazy or is she being unreasonable?

Talk to me.

*BTW, this scenario isn’t specific. Some iteration has happened in various relationships I’ve been in. I’ve always ended up getting the drink at some point. Arguing with your woman is pointless. It never ends well for the man. *


MAKE SURE YOU RSVP FOR REMINISCE THIS SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2012, AT LIV Nightclub in DC. FREE before 11pm with RSVP and OPEN BAR from 930-1030PM. With no dress code and Supa Qool DJ Quartermaine (cop his Quarter Life Crisis EP off of iTunes here for $3.99) on the 1′s and 2′s and you’ve got the best 90′s party in the city!!!! REMINISCE WITH THE COOL KIDS!

The Other Foot: When Men Seek Closure

Sometimes when life gets you down, you just need p*ssy and a violin guitar.

It’s common knowledge that women more or less suck at rejection. Most women are so discerning (yes, this is debateable…so is yo’ mama) about their romantical decisions up front that the very idea that a man who was chosen would decline their advances causes women to come down with a mad case of the Bee Gees. And anybody who’s ever had the BeeGees knows that you do not want the BeeGees.

Obviously, men are on the other end of that spectrum. I just got rejected twice since I started writing this and I couldn’t care less; I make it do what it do. Also, women tend to be big on closure and men, well, we just go bang new women and pretend not to have any feelings about the previous relationship. This tends to work well for society and mankind since, again, we all know that emo men might kill you. It’s really all about self-preservation, truth, justice, and the American way.

Well, there are actually some situations where men don’t know how to handle rejection AND seek closure. I know, boohissboo. While most men would just rather move on and pretend a certain chick didn’t exist and then holler at  her sorority sister, every now and again comes some woman where sh*t just went so haywire that the dude is left scratching his head.

You need an example don’t you? Yes, I think you do.

Many moons ago, a  young Pan (my game has grown, prefer you call me Panama) was seeing  a young lady. They hit it off famously and excitedly set out to do things that ninjas who hit it off famously do. They ate out. They looked at ducks together. They didn’t even have to use their AKs. It’s like everyday was a good day.  Mind you, Young P Da Fly Thief actually liked this particular woman so he did things that ninjas who like particular women do. He was nice. He did sweet things. Chaka Khan. When he did hoodrat things with his friends, he invited her along.

Then one day, poof vamoose, son of a b*tch. Now that’s not completely true. There was an incident of sorts and to explain it would possibly implicate no less than 12 Guatemalans, three Deltas and Obama. But in all honesty, I, Panama Jackson, was completely innocent. Basically, she messed up royally in such a way that I was forced to take a few steps back and truly evaluate whether or not I wanted to continue forward. She knew it. I knew it.

So what happens?

She iggs me ALL the way out. She disappeared on me. You ain’t neva seen a ninja get more gon’ then this ninja got gon’. Kind of like Ron Isley in Tax Court, I was so confrused. It made no sense, especially since I extended an olive branch so that we could move forward amicably…at least as friends, and perhaps more though that piece was going to take some work. Here’s the kicker, I wasn’t sure if this ninja really was into me for real for real as a boytoy anyway. So technically, it seems like we were all good. But nope. This ninja kicked me to more curbs than a concrete company.

It was almost some Boomerang sh*t except nobody got played. As opposed to a woman being stuck on a dude wondering why he vanished, it was me trying to understand. I went to various women that I knew to gain some insight and all of them gave me some variation of the same answer: she was interested and realized she blew it so she just quit you before she got even more caught up. Self-preservation so to speak. That’s all well and good except…isn’t that the same sh*t women get mad at men for doing? And you know when men’s feelings get hurt, one woman doesn’t pay, the next ten women will pay.

Point is, for the first time in my long-legged life, I needed some closure AND took the rejection personal since until she f*cked up, we were getting along…famously. Oh, and she messed up, not me. Dat hurt very much. Now, this was years ago and I’m a much more coldhearted murderer than I was back then, no matter what Champ says (my ni**a, did you call me thoughtful and sensitive? – f*ck everybody). But that situation reminded me that every so often, men do look for that very closure that women swear we never seek. Did I ever get it? No. I recently saw this woman and we chopped it up for a second and I wanted so badly to ask her what happened but my ego and pride prevented me from doing so. I guess she was the best thing I never had. And yes, Virginia, that was intentional.

So let’s talk about closure today. Ladies, do you ever come across men looking for closure in your previous relationships? Fellas, have you ever sought out closure from a particular woman when things didn’t go right?

And synopsisize deez ladies, why do YOU think she bailed on me? And I promise you don’t need more context. No cheating, she just pulled a cardinal sin. And resist the temptation to ask what it was that she did even though I know its burning to know what happened.

Oh, and close deez.


After you read this, mosey on over to Guyspeak where Panama wonders about how true to life Beyonce’s video for “Best Thing I Never Had” is in an article entitled, Ladies, Is Your Ex ALWAYS On Your Mind?

Yo…Men Can Be Real Dumb Sometimes, Yo

Baby, I can still drive it. It's just ice. Not lava.

Today, I’m throwing the ladies a bone. Big Pun.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: pride is the leading cause of death for Black men between the ages of birth and death. I’m not sure why we, Black men, have so much pride or why we let it override the good common sense that the good Lord bestowed upon us, but oh does it. So, oh, let’s do it. Leggo.

As somebody who knows many women, I get to hear numerous comments about how ridiculous men can be. And generally, I rebut said claims with proof that women are in fact, insane. Certifiable actually, for the lot of you dames out there. But the truth is, men can be real dumb sometimes, yo. Which is where pride comes into the picture. See, i think it’s manly pride that causes us to make many of the errant decisions that we make. Well, that our pursuit of the poonanny. Though maybe poonanny isn’t the right term since Tupac tried to smell Janet’s and all she did was breathe in his face and then fix his daughter’s hair. And yo, Pac, if you listening, you should have gotten a paternity test on that child because she didn’t look nothing like you, pimpin. Just saying.

But you dead now.

Back to the lecture at hand.

Men. Stupidity. As Ice Cube so eloquently put it, “Doin’ Dumb Sh*t”. I think men just don’t like being told that what we’re doing is wrong or doesn’t make sense. It’s the main reason why we don’t like asking for directions. It’s not that we don’t know that we’re lost. We just don’t like you pointing it out and telling us what we could have done to not be lost in the first place. Especially since we already know. Hell, there’s an app for that. We know, damn. In fact, if you all would just let up a bit on telling us how wrong we are we wouldn’t HAVE to drive you down that dark County Rd 341 highway that we claim is a shortcut.

Duly note that.

Anyway, as a service, here are a few ways that men can be real dumb sometimes, yo.

1. Refuse to ask for help when we clearly need it…even if its offered and we clearly need it.

It snowed, sleeted, skeeted, and thundered here in DC. Not a whole heap – we’re talking about 4 or 5 inches (midget pr0n) of snow in the city – but enough to f*ck up rush hour and enough to cause the streets to be extremely dangerous and slushy, etc. Well, I went outside to take some pictures of th snow because I’m a documentarian. I document sh*t. Well, I see one of my wayward ninja neighbors struggling to move his stuck car out of the snowy pit he’d managed to find himself in. He’s trying to push his car up a slight embankment while his girl is in the driver’s seat. I walk over and offer my help and he’s like, “naw, I got it”. Waves me off. Cool. It’s cold and my jheri curl is drying up anyway. His girl opens the car door and is like, “NO WE NEED HELP”. But dude proceeds to wave me off again. I hear them start arguing to which he yells, “what the f*ck was he gonna be able to do?” How about help you get out of the snow. But ninja rules of conduct require me to heed dudes words. That’s mad dumb. He’s trying to push a car. In snow. Up a hill. By himself. And help was offered. He said no. He is man. Hear him roar. And yes I went and checked on them every fifteen minutes to see them continue to struggle until I got bored.

2. Talk ourselves into a fight we didn’t want in the first place

Men like to talk sh*t. And other men understand this. See, most of us never want to fight and two arguing parties bank on this fact. But every now and then, one overly talkative dude will find himself mouthing off with a cat who doesn’t read books about what professional ninjas are supposed to do when upset. So then mouthy dude ends up talking himself into having to fight with some dude with nothing to lose in life because his pride won’t allow him to realize he might die. All we can do is pray for a snowstorm or police intervention so we can continue to mouth off about what we would have done. Men are real dumb, yo.

3. Argue with women

Contentious I know. But true. Arguing with a woman is a no win proposition. Somehow, no matter what we say or do, the fact is we shouldn’t have done or said something during the course of the argument. Arguing with a chick can you to be in trouble for so many different things. Your tone. What you said about her complaint about your tone. She could be wrong in the first place but the way you responded to her being wrong places you in the wrong. The only true way to end a fight with a woman is to throw a shoe at her. And I’m not even sure that will work but I’ll bet it’s more productive. How? I don’t know.

I’m a man. And I don’t negotiate with terrorists.

Unless it’s a woman. And then I lose.

Le sigh.

So people of VSB, what are other ways that men can be real dumb sometimes, yo? Ladies, have at it. Let us know.


Choices (No Three 6 Mafia)

[***Admin Note: TOMORROW in Washington D.C., The Champ will be on a panel with a few other "relationship experts" to talk about relationships, love, sex, and all that other good stuff, and he'd greatly appreciate your support. Go to for more details.

Also, if you're planning on attending, please buy your tickets with the promotional code "VSB" to receive a discount. Thanks!***]

Today, let’s share.

Listen up, I got a story to tell.

A couple of years ago, I was faced with a conundrum of epic proportions. The quagmire of race, pride, ethics, morality, justice, and perception came into play. Allow me to re-introduce myself.

One day some years ago, it was raining like one dollar bills in a strip club. Now, had I watched the news, I’d have known this but I’m a straight G. Real G’s don’t watch the news. We create news. Word.Life.

Anyway, it began raining with the force of 20 Christians in a mosque, and I realized that because I’m a G, not only don’t I watch the news, I ALSO don’t roll with an umbrella…ella…ella…aye…aye…aye.


Now, much like any coldblooded mofo that rolls with a basketball, some basketball shorts, and basketball shoes in his trunk is wont to do, I figured that I might have a spare umbrella in my car. I mean, you never know what lies beneath, ya dig? So I rummaged. And I rummaged – all without leaving my actual car. I mean it was raining and I was on my way to work. Heading into the office with some soggy Dockers and a Brooks Brothers original just isn’t the business. It’s straight Yung Berg.

Well, I lifted some papers and moved some weight and lo and behold…an umbrella. Except…

…it was an AKA umbrella.


A few weeks prior, I’d dropped off my AKA homegirl at her home and she’d apparently left her umbrella in my car. Why? No clue. But it was there in its pink and green glory. All waiting to be used for its utilitarian purpose in life. I mean, if you have an umbrella that never actually shields you from rain, is it an umbrella? It’s a philosophical question of sorts.

So, my conundrum. It’s raining typhoon-like outside and I REALLY don’t like get typhooned upon. It’s like getting grey poupon’d on except you will eventually dry at some point. But hell, nobody likes soggy loafers and clothes. And  you can’t do proper business soaked. But it was an AKA umbrella. I, a non-AKA, could not in good conscience go off into the world holding up this AKA umbrella using it to shield me from the rains of the Rain Gods. Could I?

I wavered on this for a solid 20 minutes; so long that I was late to work because I couldn’t decide if I should forego my common sense and Greek-letter knowledge pool and feign ignorance that I just didn’t know better. I mean, a case could be made…it was raining like sh*t.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I went to an HBCU and I know AKAs. I am not an AKA.

I am sexxy. I am Malcolm X. And I am legend.

But I am not able to use an AKA umbrella sans AKA.

So what did I do? I called in sick and said I’d be in later on drove my happy self to a mall that had a covered parking lot and went to purchase an umbrella.

Straight up now tell me are you really going to love me forever?

Anyway, what would you have done in that situation. Actually, I don’t care that much but I love you like Swizz loves Alicia.

Have you ever been in a situation where your pride forced you to make a decision you didn’t want to make? Have you been in a fight with a midget? (That’s got pride written all over it.)

Let’s talk about pride today people. What situation (no Jersey Shore) has your  pride (and prejudice) put you in?

Let’s share people. Talk to me.

I’ll listen and I’ll love.

And yes Penelope, I did reference Scuttle from The Little Mermaid.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL, HE A 3 Special Report: The Return of the Black Man’s Hat…Again

*Administrative Note: If you’ll look to the right you’ll see that has been nominated for three Black Web Awards! Best Blog, Best Relationship Advice Site, and Best Site for Brothas. Hooray. Go click and vote. If Obama can do it, so can we. Yes we can! Yes we can! Thank you all for helping us get to this point. I’m not really big on awards and all that to be honest, but it’s cool that anybody thought enough of us to nominate us…so thanks for helping to make a hot spot on-line. And thank CP3 for just being hot.*

Last week, CNN aired a special entitled “Black In America”, a two-day documentary about the state of Black people in our adopted homeland of America.

And despite my lack of actual expectations in regards to what CNN would actually be able to accomplish, I still found myself to be disappointed. Essentially, CNN aired:

Black People For Dummies.

Dummies = white people.

(And um, not that I think white people are dummies. Naïve? Yes. Dummies? No.)

I found this documentary interesting for a few reasons, and none of them positive. For one, if you actually gained insightful information from this documentary…

…you need to read more. Point blank. Period.

Similarly, I don’t actually understand their point or whom they were actually trying to reach with it. For instance, any white person that actually watched it probably already knew the stuff they were talking about or at least had a clue. Hell, any white person that actually watched it was probably interested enough to care about Black people…so they’re probably empathetic-ish to the Black cause and therefore know that stuff.

With that stuff = being Black can blow ass at times.

For second, most white people probably didn’t watch it anyway. It was on CNN, and what with all the commercials I keep seeing about having to go digital in 2009, much of middle America probably didn’t catch CNN with their bunny-ear antennas. Or better yet…

…most white people probably just didn’t care. I could be wrong on that one.

In fact, I’d actually be happy to be wrong about that but really, I barely watched it and I did only because I didn’t want to be the one Black person who DIDN’T watch it. Basically, I just didn’t want to NOT be apart of the conversation.

And I’m Black.

For third, most Black people don’t have cable so they weren’t exactly watching it though. I do assume that similar to Tyler Perry movies, a lot of churches and stuff had “Black In America” viewing parties…and they did have T.D. Jakes up in there.


Ultimately, I just don’t understand what their point was – if there even was one. It wasn’t enlightening…if anything, they lightly touched on the successes of Black middle America. Even the successful people that were profiled (Asst. Superintendent in Arkansas, Michael Eric Dyson, etc.) weren’t immune from the regular f*cktasticness of the rest of the Black community.

Was it supposed to inspire? Or to shine a light on the failures of Black America? Was I supposed to feel pride in being Black? Probably not because it wasn’t really positive. But after watching it I didn’t even feel anything. Was it depressing? Not really. It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. But then again, why just put more stuff out there that adds nothing to the conversation.

You can’t actually do justice to the question about being “Black in America” if nobody actually ASKS anybody…

… “what does it mean to you to be Black in America?”

When you just lightly touch on varying issues, desperations, and almost-successes of the Black community what are you actually trying to accomplish?

Maybe I read too much or maybe I expect too much where I shouldn’t expect anything. But for some reason, I expect people (CNN) who decide to undertake something so complex to approach the situation with a little more respect than to merely touch the surface with no real attempt at any depth. Granted, discussing what it means to be “Black in America” would require about 27 years and two weeks to give due diligence to the subject but still…

Perhaps you got the point and I’m just slow. But good people of, did you watch Black in America, and if so, what did you get out of it?

By the way, I’ll be talking about this all week…today, I pulled a CNN…I just lightly touched on the topic. Tomorrow, I’m pulling a Panama Muhf*ckin’. I’m digging deep.