Random Musings The Day After My Bornday

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

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