Tag Archives: random

Say My Name, Say My Name

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I had this whole post idea ready to go for today then I realized that I couldn’t come up with a title for it. So I scrapped it.

Yes, you read that right. I scrapped an entire post because I couldn’t come up with the proper way to present it to you, the people, the masses, the folks. Then I remembered an idea and question I had a while back. See, one thing that we love about VSB ’round here (no Memphis Bleek) is that we’ve managed to establish actual repoires with ninjas and non-ninjas who frequent these parts. We’ve done various icebreakers to find out about our community for the purposes of doing awkward demographic data mining so that one day we could sell all of that information to Hennessey or Cognac or one of the other companies hell bent on destroying what’s left of the Black community.

Like St. Ides.

Anyway, one idea that we never really tapped into was probably the most obvious and potentially the most interesting:

How’d you come up with your handle? Or hell even your Twitter handle for all of us who spend as much time on Twitter as we do with our families and pugs. While I know that some folks handles are as simple as a variant of their names, some folks have very interesting ass names. So I figured, what the hell, spill the beans.

I’ll start. In DC, when I’m out and about, I often introduce myself as Panama. For some of you that might sound ridiculous, but the truth is, PJ, is an actual living and working nickname, especially in DC. Most folks dont remember my real name for anything but Panama is a name everybody always remembers. I’ve actually had the nickname WELL before I started writing anywhere.

For starters, I was born in the country. Yep. That is from whence I came. My birth certificate is in Spanish and English. But the way that the name was truly borne was out of a trip I took to Lake Lanier north of Atlanta, for our senior week at Morehouse. Me and my boys were walking to the entrance and for some odd reason – I do a lot of “for some odd reason” things – I decided to start walking through some bushes. They looked inviting. They welcomed me like Gaia was in there massaging feet. Anyway, one of my boys look at me and is like, “who the hell are you supposed to be? Panama Jack?” I was like, “naw, homey, I’m Black. Make that Panama Jackson.” Just that simple.

Later that night when I got home I went on AOL and got me a PanamaDJackson (had to add the D, which stands for Dontavious) screenname. I added the “D” because PanamaJackson was taken. That was in like 2001. So anyway, that’s how I came up with my name for all those that didn’t know. Or couldn’t remember.

So what’s your story?

Happy Friday and Happy Memorial Day!

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. MY NAME IS ON FIRE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Also, check out P’s latest post over at Guyspeak, “If You’re Faking It, Should You Ever Tell?” You know what that’s about. Check it out! And Champ’s latest post over at Ebony, “Think Like a…Fact-Checker. Did France Really Ban ‘Think Like A Man?’”

Monday we’re off. But don’t forget if you’re in DC that on Saturday, June 2, 2012, we’ve got another edition of REMINSCE at Liv Nightclub coming up! Except this time, we’re gonna be celebrating my birthday! Please come out and hang with your boy for a little while. I’d really appreciate it. Plus, it’s free before 11pm w/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) and $10 after. AND there’s an open bar from 930-1030 WITH NO DRESS CODE. You can come in shorts because it gets HOT in there.

Separate, But Equal For The Greater Good!

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Emo is also know as Marvin's Room.

Separate, but equal.

Such powerful words. They created the basis for Jim Crow and laundromats. And zoos. Definitely zoos. Well over time I’ve come to learn that with all of the progress we’ve made with integration (whether or not integration was a good thing is rightfully debatable), that while being able to drink from the same drinking fountain f*cking rocks, there are some instances where perhaps, separate, but equal just might be better. In some ways, thats the premise that the Black Panthers were working with. Allow our communities to police ourselves because we couldn’t trust the power structure as it was to justly address the issues of our community.

Then came crack.

Moving on. The point is, all segregation isn’t a bad thing. I hear you looking at me with odd trepidation. I would be too. But trust me, I’ve recently discovered some areas where perhaps segregation might be beneficial to all parties involved. Eli Porter face. I did that.

And thiiiiiiiiis is where this post takes the turn towards, huh? what? Just keep swimming.

While I have you completely baffled about what direction I’m going, here is a list of things where segregation might be best for us all.

1. Hip-hop dance class

To most white people, all Black people have rhythm, can sing and dance, and are great at basketball. And I, for one, am completely okay with that stereotype. We’re the purveyors of cool. I think white and Black people have come to a comfortable understanding and acceptance that we’ve got this entertainment thing on lock. So imagine just how disappointing (and upsetting) it would be if the Black chick in the hip-hop dance class sucked at dancing. Hell, I’d be disappointed and I KNOW all Black people can’t dance. Plus, Black people wouldn’t be subject to being taught “Black culture” by white teachers who call themselves things like DJ Scriggety Scratch who start all classes by saying “peace” forcing us to want to jackslap and mollywop somebody to make penance for the blatant disrespect of our culture. Or something. Point is, segregated hip-hop dance class is a win for everybody. Khaled.

2. Any establishment that serves soul food

As we’ve said plenty of times on this here site, down South, Black and white people pretty much eat the same sh*t. Hell, back in slavery days, we were the ones cooking for massa and ‘nem so it makes sense that on Thanksgiving day in the South, everybody’s eating the same thing (with the exception of the large Hispanic population who are likely NOT eating hogmaws). Do you know how difficult it is for some Black people to eat chicken AND/OR watermelon in front of white people? I know people who refuse to do so as to not be stereotypical. Well, if we mandated segregated soul food eating then we, the Black people, could be free to eat our stereotypical food in peace while they, the white people, could be free to eat the most bland deviled eggs of all time without worrying about anybody trying to put paprika on them. Everybody wins.

3. The movies

Hear me out. This kind of probably happens already anyway depending on the movie. But if there’s one place where stereotypes get reinforced, its the movie theater. Word.Life. Ninjas do hoodrat things with their friends at the movies. And I assume white people do too. We just tend to be a little more auditory. I remember going to see Bamboozled when it came out in Atlanta and much to my surprise there was a very mixed crowd. Well, we talked through the whole damn movie. Amenning it up. Yelling and booing at the screen. I’m fairly positive that the nice white people didn’t hear half the movie because I know that I didn’t hear half the movie. Picture a Tyler Perry movie experience on opening weekend. Well if we separate, but equate that joint then white people can watch in silence and Black folks can ham it up in loudence…THEN wait for the DVD to come out and purchase that joint ENSURING that Black movies continue to get made since the main reason why so many Black movies can’t get the green-light is because the majority of money made on Black movies comes from DVD sales. If we ain’t buying, they ain’t making. Word to big bird. Again, everybody wins. White folks pay upfront and we take it in the rear. Sounds like life, eh?

4. Men’s bathrooms for Drake fans and for non-Drake fans

In one, there are urinals and stalls. In the other, there are only stalls. I’ll let you assign them accordingly.

Those are just a few examples of places that logically might make sense to segregate, if ya know what I mean, for the greater good. Good people of VSB, got anything else???

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. I’M NOT THAT SENSITIVE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Random Musings The Day After My Bornday

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After a week of hateration, holleration, and the eternal search for danceries, I’m wiped out. With that said, it’s Friday, I ain’t got no job (EXTEND UNEMPLOYMENT BENEFITS) and I ain’t got sh*t to do.

By the way, I’m totally lying about being unemployed. Sorry Ms. Jackson.

Anyway, because my brain isn’t working right now in a coherent fashion, I figured that I’d break down my mental and discuss a few things that have been on my mind for at least the last 15 minutes.

- I’d like to thank everybody who wished me birthday wishes yesterday. That was beautiful. If you knew what kind of month I was having,  you’d know that my birthday wasn’t exactly something I was looking forward to celebrating. Hell, even the day started out rocky for me. If the way I brought in this year was any indication of how the year is going to go, well, I could be in a very f*cked up mood for a very long time. But all the well-wishes from people I don’t even know really made me feel better. And welcome to all those commenters who dropped their first comment on a birthday well-wish to lil ole VSB P the 3. If I knew you, I’d buy you all shots.

Lucky for me I don’t know most of y’all. But DC, we’re gonna get together real soon. Like real soon. But straight up, from the heart, I really appreciate all of the shoutouts.

-Drake’s debut album, Thank Me Later, leaked the other day. After all the leaks, I was pretty much done on this album. But after listening to it as a whole product, I get it. Drake made an album, not just a bunch of hot singles. If you’re looking for “Forever” or “Money To Blow” you will be disappointed. This whole album sounds like “Successful” meets “Unthinkable”. And it makes cohesive and perfect sense to me. Is it a classic album? Not at all, though it depends on your defiinition. People will be talking about this album for years. So he’s right, we all just might thank him later. Which we’ll have to do since most of us will be cursing his ass out for making us shell out our hard earned money to buy an album that sounds like one big ass tuba note from a guy that looks like a smiling Eeyore. Oh and by the way, listening to this album in my car made it sound THAT much doper. “Unforgettable”, “Show Me A Good Time”, “Light Up”, “Miss Me” are all tracks to look out for. Or you could just listen to successful on repeat 14 times and save yourself the trouble. Thank me later.

-I saw the movie Just Wright the other day. Good movie, but gotdamn was it predictable. We come down on Tyler Perry for his predictablility and inabilty to employ subtlety into his movies. This movie had NO subtlety whatsoever, but I enjoyed it just the same. You should go spend your money on this movie. Common did a good job doing nothing more than being a lightskint rapper from Chicago who just so happened to be playing a 5’6″ All-Star ball player who somehow is the best player in the league. But ya know, it’s always good to see the underdog get their man. Queen Latifah is definitely the underdog. She’s the kind of leading lady I’d never really want to sleep with. Anyway, Just Wright was a Tyler Perry movie with out Madea, bad writing, ridiculous plot twists (if they are even remotely possible at all), Kimberly Elise as a sexxy woman, or Tyler Perry as a straight man involved. But…it was enjoyable. Like yo mama.

-Lakers in 5.

- This is hands down my favorite commercial of at least the last 10 minutes. While I’d never buy a Kia, I do appreciate the hardwork these hamsters are putting into the game.

I know at least two people who remind me of hamsters anyway. I call them Shellack and Doowop Underroo. But Bob when we’re at work.

- Shoutouts to the homey The Champ who was at the Modern Day Matchmaker Event Live joint in New York City last night and is probably partying as this posts. He’s holding down the VSB brand. Hopefully the NYC contingent got to kick it with him. If not, you can just hop on Diddy’s Last Train to Paris.

-I’m still sexxy. And I always will be. So to that chick who wrote me that email calling me a self-centered d-bag who couldn’t bag a woman if I used Boris Kodjoe’s face….stop being mad that I CENSORED your mother. Thank you and good night.

Those are my random thoughts on a Friday, what you got?

And remember, sharing is caring people.

And yes Virgina, I had a drink.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka VITAMIN P aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

bonkers: five signs you’re dealing with a crazy-ass bastard

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in keeping with our committment to fight crime, i’d be remiss if i didn’t tell you that i was once in a relationship with a woman who later revealed herself to be completely insane. because i am still scared to death of her dont like to go in-depth about past lovers, i won’t get into any particulars, but i wanted to bring this topic up just to provide some sort of public documentation in case i end up “missing” someday show you all that the champ is human and sh*t, and how to avoid the mistakes ive made. so without further ado, heres…

….five signs you’re dealing with a crazy-ass bastard

1. you’re scared to break up…for two separate reasons:

a) what they’ll potentially do to you

and, more importantly.

b) what they’ll potentially do to themselves

“how did it last that long?”

ask anybody (myself included) who stayed in a relationship with a slightly anti-sane person this question, and they’ll all give you a variant of the same answer.

“yeah, of course, i feared that she’d delete my hard drive and grind off the heels of my ken cole dress boots if i ended it. but, to be honest, i was more scared about what she’d do to herself. sh*t, suicide, homicide, growing a shag, dating a skinhead, and publicly releasing a niagara of synthetic tears…anything was possible.”

2. you keep a list in your head of completely and hilariously random topics you try to never, ever, ever, ever bring up.

several years ago, i dated a woman who’d go batsh*t bongcrazy whenever anything having to do with vegetables was brought up.

i’m not making this up.

vegetables.

like lettuce and spinach and sh*t.

i once asked her why, but i lost interest once i heard the term “seattle communists” in her explanation. moral of the story: don’t date aka’s.

3. they have a list of completely and hilariously random places they’re never, ever, ever allowed to visit

chuck e cheese

walmart

back yards

madison square garden

walking across bridges

the state of delaware

within 500 yards of any post office or beer distributors

no matter how stupid the reason, crazy-ass bastards love being banned from random ass, seemingly unbanable places. its a virtual rite of passage, like confirmation for catholics and teen pregnancy for hispanics.

4. for whatever reason, sex is usually accompanied by tears

lets just say that i learned the hard way that a woman doing a naked wall-slide and sobbingly uncontrollably for ten minutes directly after an orgasm isnt a good thing, and could possibly lead to more terrifyingly hilarious behavior, and lets just leave it at that…ok?

cool.

lastly…

5. …they’ve made YOU crazy too

whether it’s changing your account passwords twice a week, hacking their email just to see if they’ve hacked yours, or finding yourself apologizing for completely and utter defensible sh*t (“i’m sorry for telling you i got to work on time yesterday. i didnt realize that it would make you think about your stepfather‘s foster kids“), there’s no truer sign that you’re dating a crazy-ass bastard than the fact that you’ve started to do crazy-ass sh*t yourself, just to potentially pre-empt their craziness.

its a circle of crazy. a sphere of insanity. a loop of lunacy. a wheel of wack. a disc of dementia. a circumference of cuckoo

i’d go on, but…wait. hold up. i’ll be back. i think someone’s knocking on my window.

hmmm. thats odd. noone was there, but there’s a bucket of what looks to be chicken blood on my windowsill. i wonder why that is?

oh well. did i miss anything?

—the champ