Sidepieces Are Having The Best and Worst Year Ever

MjAxMy1lNWM5YmZjYjkxN2ZiMmZiIf you’re Black or know Black people, there is a really good chance that you’ve heard, used, or listened to some wayward soul use the word sidepiece at least once in the past week. To hell with “selfie”, in the urban world, the word of the year for 2013 is “sidepiece”.

Sidepieces are everywhere. They’re in songs. They’re on television making a living as a sidepiece. There are entire shows dedicated to it (Scandal) where literally EVERYBODY on the show is a sidepiece of some sort. There are other shows like Love & Hip-Hop where chickens BRAG about having to take Plan B because she’s letting her ex (who is now married) dump off in her on a regular basis. Somewhere in America, a man lives with a woman who he’s not married to while being married to woman he doesn’t live with. Yes, his wife somehow manages to be his sidepiece. That takes a special brand of talent and f*ckery. Truth is stranger than fiction.

I know a cat who even has Sidepiece Sundays. Nevermind the fact that this sounds like a dope name for an event, but le hombre actually practices this by giving his sidepieces time on Sundays. Basically, sidepieces have become accepted members of society. Now don’t get it f*cked up…NOBODY wants to be a sidepiece. I think there’s still a better than 50 percent chance that 60 percent of the time it works every time that most sidepieces don’t know they are the “other person”. But the other half of the second third of me thinks that context clues are a motherf*cker and refusing to read the tea leaves is a choice. Memes abound and there are canons both to the left and right of them.

To that end, sidepieces are really having a stellar year. I mean, for the longest, they were nobodies. They were home-wrecking trollops enabling cheaters to stick and move for little more than extra cheese on a burger. Make no mistake, sidepieces can be dangerous. That’s usually how folks get f*cked up in the game – they tell their sidepiece too much and she has enough information to make waves, something that is especially easy to do in today’s social media “hey look at me I was here, here, here, and here” heavy environment. In some ways, its kind of amazing that anybody would cheat nowadays given the fact that everybody seems to want attention and credit for…well, something. And sidepieces are no different. While they may not be the queen, they usually want to be the queen and while not pressing the issue, will, force the issue a time or two with strategically placed pictures and appearances. See, sidepieces usually have nothing to lose and if they know they’re a sidepiece they’re usually willing to go the extra mile to embarrass me and you, your momma and your cousin too.

Which is why the popular cultureness of sidepieces is also the worst thing that could happen to them. Sure they’re winning by getting some notoriety and recognition in the hierarchical food chain of relationship shenaniganery; completely with proper deference and significant social media presence. However, the disdain for these individuals has also reached a fever pitch. See, while women like Kerry Washington have managed to turn sidepieces (she is a sidepiece on Scandal, this is not debatable) into notable personas, we also kind of HATE her characters ability to be SUCH a sidepiece. She’s textbook and nobody likes textbooks. The ability to seek, locate, and destroy those who are sidepieces is also easier than ever.

That chick is liking too many of your man’s pictures on IG? Is she RTing your boo too many times? Is he on your girl’s FB page too frequently? Because sidepieces know they matter nowadays, they want recognition, but they really just want to bring down the house of cards. If you are a sidepiece you know that everybody hates you. Especially if you get found out to be one.

The main bullet point here is that sidepieces/chicks/dudes/of rice have made the leap. Betty Wright tried to told you. Pleasure P was willing to be boyfriend number 2. But now, sidepieces are legitimate members of society eligible for ID cards like illegals. I saw a sidechick try to sign up for a health plan under Obamacare but the site kept going down on her…which, well, too easy drill sargent too easy.

So what say you, are sidepieces having the best year ever? Or the worst? Or is it the best AND worst chick ever?

Boyfriend number 12 checkin’ out.


4 Totally Normal Things That People Do That You Probably Shouldn’t Tell People That You’re Doing

ikeWhile denial is both a river in Egypt and the name of a Black child in Louisville, KY, it is often the most important part of maintaining peace in any relationship. Not that I think anybody should be outright lying to their boo, boothang, or concubine, but the truth is that the devil is a lie, the present is a gift, and I just wanna be.

Really, none of that made any sense.

So let’s shift things a bit. Technology is a motherlover. It’s turned an entire world of omitted statements into GPS-guided poppycock. You can’t say you were one place, then use any type of social media anymore. The hawks are out. They’re looking at tablecloths and flowerbeds in the background. The thing is…UNLESS you get caught red-handed doing something you just weren’t supposed to be doing, folks can’t just tell you that they’re cyber-stalking your life even thought we ALL know that’s what happens. Which puts it square at number 1 on the list of things that everybody is doing and we all know folks are doing but you can’t go telling people that you just did it.

1. Social media stalking

Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. Vine. Etcetea etcetera. Que sera sera. If you’re dating somebody and they have ANY form of social media and they don’t call when they say they will or for some reason ain’t available when you want them to be, there’s a really – like better than 99 percent – good chance that you’re heading to check out their footprint. And who can blame you. It’s public information right? I’ve been accused of something because of an IG post that was over a year old before. Thing is…it still sounds crazy when you realize that you’re pulling up a Twitter account to put somebody on blast. Just duly note that sh*t and keep it to yourself until you have a really good reason to drop the bizzombnayee.

2. Watch pr0n

As prevalent as pr0n is nowadays it’s entirely possible that you’re watching it right now and don’t even know it. Thing is, there are two communities of pr0n watchers: those who are unapologetically watching, commenting on message boards, and having deep debates about “deep” debates with actual pr0n star names. Then there’s the other group…folks who look at it but pretend like they don’t, even though nobody is going to judge you for doing so. Unless you’re like uber religious or something in which case you probably should keep that to yourself. Here’s a good rule of thumb: if you feel some kind of way about telling your mother what you’re doing, just keep that sh*t to yourself.

3. Be a fan of and attend Rick Ross concerts when you’re a pastor

So this is a thing.

Here’s the thing, folks of the cloth, I can understand liking certain musics in the comforts of your own home. Especially when you’re 26. However, Rick Ross is one unsavory ass character. You can’t be outchea in these streets supporting unsavory ass characters by going to their concerts. THEN when the hiring folks have had to tell you BEFORE to cut that sh*t out…well you just might get fired. Stop that sh*t. Just listen in the car or at home when no parishioners are there. Concerts? Off limits, Pastor.

4. Like Pitbull

Let me tell y’all something: Pitbull got hits. So does Flo-Rida. So does Ike. And the Ike Turner IG memes? Can you say totes hilar? Pitbull could be substituted for Miley Cyrus, herpes, Samsungs, Kardashians, or R. Kelly. There are so many entertainers and nouns that truly are enjoyable but could cause somebody to glare at you with a sideways. By the way, if you are really happy about your herpes, you definitely should keep that to yourself. And stay off horses.

So randomly, what else are some completely normal things that people do but you shouldn’t really tell other people. Let’s kick off this end of Summer with some fun then get to some interestingness.



The Nudie Trinity

Today at VSB, we’re relinquishing the podium to a new name on the street, the blogless wonder and 3q97wvhomey Sasha Elaine. After a spirited debate about nude pics, I told her she should just write a post about them. Lo and behold she did. Heeeeeeeeeere we go. Welcome to the floor, Sasha Elaine!

Every few months there is a Twitter debate about nude photos. Men and women, Deloitte employees and the ratchet alike (although the two aren’t mutually exclusive), discuss what I call the Nudie Trinity:

§  Should women send men naked photos?

§  Do women appreciate unsolicited penis pictures?

§  Are women who send nude photos putting themselves at risk to never becoming FLOTUS?

Honestly, we could settle this all by having a panel sponsored by Dark N Lovely featuring Cornel West and never have this convo again. But right now I still think those folks are talking about the Black women and marriage crisis, so until they’re off that…

Ladies, in most cases*, it makes little to no sensefor you to send someone a photo of yourself entangled in sheets while you’re biting on your index finger, freshly coated in a zebra and glitter design you borrowed from a YouTube tutorial.

One of three things could happen:

1.       You take an AMAZING photo that makes you look like a cross between Stacey Dash and Nicole Behari with a pinch of Gabrielle Union. What does any self-respecting man do with a banging photo of a Dash/Behari/Union mashup? SHOW EVERYONE, DUH! And you know, with GroupMe, Twitter, mass text messaging apps, Google Hangouts, and the NSA (I KNEW Scandal was real life!!), it’s not a good look. There’s nothing awesome about showing up at a happy hour, meeting a man who says “You look familiar… wait do you have a strawberry on your inner left thigh? I knew that was you!” Not like that has happened to me before. (Panama Note: Ain’t nan’ man gon’ show pics of his woman. He may, however, show pics to folks of women he’s just smashing that he doesn’t care about. Chances are, he won’t even share pics of exes. The private stash is real.)

2.       You take a HORRIBLE photo that makes you look like you just returned from Coachella, extremely sleep-deprived with raccoon eyes. What does any self-respecting individual do with a photo of a nude zombie who thinks she’s sexy? MAKE IT A MEME AND SHOW EVERYONE, DUH! The next thing you know, your photo has made its way to BuzzFeed or at the very least the inbox of every Que in the Chi Zeta Lambda Eta chapter. You’re officially known as the “#RememberThatGirlThatReggieWasSmashingWhoseEyesWereCrossedInThatOnePhoto” Girl. (Panama Note: Ladies, I’m not completely sure what a horrible nude photo looks like. If you think you have one, send it on so that I can see what this actually looks like. Ktxbi.)

3.       You take an AVERAGE photo, and well… then you’re the girl who took an average nude photo. Who wants to look average when they’re naked? And wasn’t the purpose to turn him (or her) on? Still a loss. (Panama Note: This is almost never the case. I can’t ever remember a man saying, “awww, shucks…she just sent me an average picture of her boobs…I could have had a V8.” Women always need V8. I’m not even sure men drink that sh*t. We’re just happy we got a boob shot.)

For the fellas… who told you that women enjoyed pics of a lonely, (typically) erect penis? Who was the first man to do this? Who started it? Interestingly enough, most men are under the impression that a penis alone is enough to get a woman’s jets going. For some reason, men rarely send full body naked photos. Just the penis. Here’s my real question: what’s the expected response? “Ooh, I’m on my way over. Keep it up! Literally!” Guys, when you send a naked photo, women are forced to awkwardly reply:

1.       Please don’t send me your genitalia.

2.       Oh… ok. That’s what’s up.

3.       What’s that?

*Note: It’s probably ok to send your husband/wife a naked photo. If word gets out that you sent your hubby a photo, then… your nickname will be “ReggiesAmazingWife”.

So what do you think? Is it ever a good idea to send a naked pic? Is it not that big a deal? Have any fun stories re nudie photos? Where do you stand on the nude selfie?

-Sasha Elaine

Get Yo’ Hands Out Of My Email!

Some of y'all have this setup don't you?

Some of y’all have this setup don’t you?

People are crazy. Period. Aside from death and taxes, insanity on behalf of the human race is the only other certainty in life.

Yet for some reason or another, we, a people who are crazy, are also one of the most hopeful and optimistic species on the planet. We like to think that the one time out of then that somebody does something we want them to do trumps the nine times that they attempted to get us murdered by doing any of a number of things.

What does this have to do with the price of your NCAA bracket in North Carolina? Glad you asked.

Knowing that people are crazy, and crazy people really can’t be trusted, should we all assume that our significant others snoop through all of our stuff? And by stuff I mean cell phones, emails, etc. And by snooping I mean actively breaking into our emails and cell phones and basically committing felonies in order to a) gain information; or b) make sure they’re not being played?

I bring this up because the other day I was listening to the radio and heard some folks talking about how their current and/or exes have gone thru their FB messages and text messages and what not. It came up because somebody on the radio asked if folks actively deleted text messages. This started an all out war about whether or not you should delete texts or not. Conventional wisdom says it does look suspicious to do so…

…wait….but why?

How the hell would anybody KNOW that you’re doing this UNLESS they are breaking into your phone and thereby possibly giving you a reason to do so because they can’t be trusted? Of course, if you do have a need to delete anything then there’s a chance it probably shouldn’t be there in the first place. It’s a vicious cycle. I can’t stop eating because I’m fat, but I’m fat because I can’t stop eating.

But let’s kind of skip over what dirt you may or may not be doing. Stop it. Don’t do dirt. Now you can say you resisted.


The last few lines came from Tyler Perry’s Temptation. Don’t see this movie. Unless you already have. If you have, then I feel sorry for your mother.

I remember having a convo with a friend of mine a few weeks ago and she said to me, straight up, “P, if you have a phone, I think it’s a pretty safe bet that your girl has gone through it.” In the next breath though, she did tell me that she’s never done such a thing which of course leads me to one, and only one conclusion: you can never believe anything a woman says.

I keeed. I keeeed. Kinda.

But all of these folks were calling in, both men and women, saying how their phones and profiles were constantly being surveilled by their folks. What caught me most off guard is that none of them sounded surprised by it or even upset. A ninja like myself? I’m not ’bout that life. I don’t believe in sharing passwords (though I’ve learned that if you password protect anything, your SO is going to find out that code by paying attention at all times). I remember once getting into a discussion about my passwords.

“Yeah, I ain’t giving up the passwords.”

“Do you have something to hide?”

“No. I just don’t think that you need them.”

“Ewww. I don’t even want them but I feel some kind of way that you are telling me that I can’t have them.”

“Tough titty. Make me a sandwich.”

It went something like that. But probably didn’t end like that. The point was clear. I think people you are dating do tend to feel a certain entitlement to your private life. I know of couples who are only dating where they give up all of their passwords and important information. Folks who have been dating for 6 months handing over married life info in case of emergencies. Naw, my ninja. In case of emergency, call my momma. I don’t expect somebody I’m only dating to be the emergency contact at work or anything. But apparently some folks operate like that so I suppose handing over the passwords makes sense.

Perhaps I’m just paranoid, but you know how when you really need that email or something inside your email and you can’t access a computer…I will pop a molly and sweat around Rick Ross before I’d think to call my girlfriend up and give her access to my email. That might sound ridiculous, but if I’m to assume that ninjas are going to go through my stuff anyway, then why HAND over permission to do so.

Plus it opens the door. (No judgement btw for some of you all who are completely okay with this). You give them the password. They give you what you need. You change your password. They notice. Well they can’t just say it but folks ALWAYS tell on themself and get crafty with telling you what they’ve been doing. Plus, I don’t feel like having to explain something thats in my email who doesn’t understand context or what have you.

But back to the lecture at hand, should you just expect that your significant other is going to dig through your stuff, effectively hack into your accounts?

Is this just where we are? I’m curious.

No Social Media, No Thank You.

Believe it or not, I still know people who utilize no forms of social media. Now this “people” is a relatively small group of individuals, but they exist. Now because I’ve known those folks for years and years, I trust them.

But let’s say I’m out in these streets – because I’m usually out in these streets doing things that people out in these streets do – and I meet an individual lacking either a Facebook page, a Linkedin profile, Twitter or Instagram, and well, I’m throwing more shade than Oprah in 1995. Hmm…y’all know how people differentiate between Fat Luther and Skinny Luther as to which version made better music, has anybody ever done such a thing with regards to Oprah? I’m guessing no. But that would be a worthy project for a communications major.

Real talk. No R. Kelly.

Back to the lecture at hand. I’m not sure I’d fully trust anybody who attempted to leave no digital footprint short of their email accounts. It just makes me nervous, like you have something to hide. Now, the irony of this is how often people lie on the Internet. So while I don’t trust anybody who has no footprint, I also cannot trust what I see from the majority of folks who do.

Cognitive dissonance, thy name is Panama Jackson.

You know what else makes no sense, despite the fact that we all make so much information readily available, we still get freaked out when we find out people are taking a look at all of it. I remember many moons ago, a young lady I was seeing made it clear that she’d looked thru my FB page and then went thru all of the pictures of my sisters. While this is all completely legal, it seemed creepy and stalkerish. Now, as it turns out, I was more upset that she informed me that she was a stalker as opposed to her actual stalking. Some things you should keep to yourself, but as many of us know, when women are interested in you, they like to gain as much information as possible and in doing so tend to be extremely inquisitive about your life and everything in it. With that inquisitiveness comes a remarkable ability to remember details…while leaving keys in the refrigerator or a purse in the chimney.

I’m not so sure why men aren’t that way. I think when we like a woman we just like her as is, the details aren’t as important. Sure we like to know you aren’t a murderer but we assume that if we’re interested, the details are just extras. Men? We stupid.

Where was I? Oh yes, so despite all of this information being available, I’m leery of people who make it clear that they avail themselves of all accessible forms of social media. Instagram? They know what date you and time you posted that picture. Twitter, they’re reading that like a hawk. Facebook…well shut the front door.

Conversely more, you know what else I don’t quite understand? People with all of this social media sh*t and it’s all padlocked. Now, I get to some degree why its necessary to privatize your information. And for a vast many people, FB and Twitter is a way to communicate with people they’d not likely communicate with, so I suppose it makes sense to some degree. But it does seem like if you’re going to be apart of the community, just do it with open arms. Sure, I’ve had blog posts stolen and pictures jacked and I’m pretty sure…wait for it…

…Brick killed a guy.

(I haven’t done that in a while.)

But I’ve also met some great and terrible people online that my life wouldn’t be the same without; people I’d never have met if I locked myself off from the world. So if I meet you out and all of your sh*t is private, I’m also giving you the Panama Jackson Epic Side-Eye and assuming you’ve got something to hide. Either that or your tremendously boring. There’s no way somebody who is insanely entertaining is locking their profile. If you tell a joke and nobody is there to hear it, is it funny? Methinks not. So if you were interesting, there’s a good chance that your profile would be public so that others could validate your entertainingness. That’s the first commandment of blogging: Thou shalt be narcissistic.

Y’all think I do this for you? No, I do this for me so when I look in the mirror at night I can say, Pretty Petey, you did that. Not coincidentally…

…that’s what she said.

(Are you still reading and wondering what the hell just happened in the past 754 words? Mr. Me Too.)

The point is, even though you can’t trust anybody via social media, you definitely can’t trust anybody who isn’t up on social media. Unless that person still uses any of the following services that may or may not exist: MySpace, AOL, BlackPlanet anything, etc.

So what say you? How do you feel about folks without a social media presence online? Would you date or actively get to know somebody who informed you that they just don’t get down like that (I realize that’s a dumb question when stated like that…on the list of dealbreakers its an odd one…but would it make you suspicious in 2013?)? If you don’t involve yourself, even in Facebook, why not? What’s the 411, hon? You got it goin’ on? Yeah I got it goin’ on.

Talk to me. Petey.