Tag Archives: the wire

My Five Favorite Characters From “The Wire”

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Hello, everyone. My name is Damon Young (aka “The Champ”), and I am the biggest fan of “The Wire” you’ll ever meet. Actually, let me rephrase that. Because “The Wire” is the best thing that’s ever happened, well, on Earth — yes, it’s better than bacon, democracy, sunsets, kittens, women who squirt, Mike Tomlin’s shape-ups, Mary Magdalene’s hugs, Aretha’s voice, NBA basketball, unlimited mimosas, the entire Renaissance, the moon, The Bluest Eye, snow days in school, the entire internet, bacon wrapped bacon, bougie Black girls, and everyone who’s ever been named “Michael” — it is likely that there are other people whose love for “The Wire” matches mine. Not surpasses, but matches.

Anyway, I’m bringing this up because today is going to be devoted to all things “The Wire,” and if you’re a person who hasn’t seen it, plans to see it but doesn’t want to get spoiled, saw it and didn’t care for it, couldn’t really care any less about it, or enjoyed “The Wire” but don’t see the need in spending an entire day discussing a f*cking TV show that ended four years ago, today is not the day for you at VSB, and I will not feel bad if you decide to u-turn when you see this paragraph. Happy motherf*cking trails.

For those of you who remain, today I’m going to attempt to do perhaps the hardest thing I’ve ever attempted to do. Narrow down and list my five favorite characters from “The Wire.” To understand how difficult this is, I’d probably have an easier time listing the top five most arrogant things God has ever done. I’m literally sweating right now, drinking a half gallon bottle of All Sport (yes, they still do make that), and I think I just stopped a nosebleed.

So, before my body breaks completely down, I should just go ahead with the list.

(In reverse order)

5. Francis “Frank” Sobotka

Like most other fans of “The Wire,” season two’s shift in focus from the streets to the ports initially caused a prevailing sense of “Wait. What the f*ck is this?”-ness that was more due to my own expectations than the quality of the season itself. When I watched it for the second time, I began to appreciate how this season turned “The Wire” from a show about cops and robbers to a sobering, deconstructionist take on the drug war and the city of Baltimore. Basically, in season two, the “The Wire” got real.

At the heart of all of this was Frank Sobotka, a man who just wanted to provide for his family and stand for his occupation and co-workers and just got waaaaay over his head. Also, like Wallace in season one, his death further pushed one of the prevailing themes of “The Wire” — that there was really no place in the game — and, well, America, really — for good-hearted people.

4. Lester Freamon

Makes the cut because, as a person who always thinks they’re the smartest person in the room (and is usually correct), I appreciate others who also always think they’re the smartest people in the room (and are also usually correct).

Also, more superficially, Lester’s awesomeness is at least partially due to the fact that he bagged the best-looking woman to appear on any of the seasons, and he kind of reminds me of my dad.

3. Howard “Bunny” Colvin

In lieu of explaining why he’s so high on my list, I’m going to ask you all a question that Bunny Colvin would probably ask you all if he were a blogger. Let’s say drugs — all drugs — were legalized next week. Do you think more people would use them?

(My answer? No, because I don’t think the criminality of drugs is really what makes people not use them. I’d bet a week’s pay that people who’ve never done crack, smack, or meth have never done it because of the effect it would have of their bodies, not because it was illegal.)

2. Michael Lee

I’ve already spoken extensively about my love for season four of “The Wire,” so there’s no need to revisit that now. What I haven’t spoken about before, though, is the fact that the two minute long scene where Michael first meets Marlo gives me chills every time I watch it. It’s that good. In that one short clip, you see everything you need to see about Michael —  his lack of fear, his single-mindedness, his contempt for authority, the deadness in his eyes — and you’re forced to wonder what a 13 year had to have gone through to make him that hard that young.

1. Preston “Bodie” Broadus

More than any other character, Bodie represented the heart of the show — the common man who’s too powerless, too engulfed by bureaucracy and station to do anything besides maintain a small portion of the universe, a portion of the universe that he doesn’t even own. I know it seems counterintuitive to refer to a murderous drug dealer a “common man,” but Bodie was Baltimore, and his life (and eventual death) showed the futility of being principled in an environment where principles are a valueless currency.

(Honorable mentions: D’Angelo Barksdale, “Cutty” Wise, Weebay Brice, Avon Barksdale, Prop Joe, Bunk Moreland, Randy Wagstaff, Vondus, and Bill Rawls)

Anyway, people of VSB, that’s it for me today. I’m curious, though. Who were your five favorite characters from “The Wire”?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

How Idris Elba Proves That “Cool’ Is More Important Than “Swag”

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If you were to ask 1000 random Black women to name the single sexiest and most attractive man in American pop culture today, I’d bet a month’s pay that Idris Elba would come out on top. In fact, considering the sheer obsession some women seem to have for him — at a house party I attended a couple weeks ago, I heard a woman call him “the epitome of sexy” — I wouldn’t be surprised if he got 20 to 30 percent of the votes.

This in itself isn’t surprising. Elba is an “understandably attractive” man (“understandably attractive” = “other guys get why woman are into him and even expect them to be”), and he’s the best current candidate to fill the “Black hearthrob with a first name no other American has ever had” quota previously manned by Denzel Washington.

What is surprising, though, is that if you asked the same 1000 women to name the one celebrity whose sexual appeal is completely overrated, Idris Elba might get first place on that list too. There seems to be just as many women who don’t see what the big deal about him is as there are who are infatuated with him.

On face value, this doesn’t make much sense. Actually, lemme rephrase that. It doesn’t make much sense…until you remember how he first entered our collective consciousness: As Stringer Bell on HBO’s “The Wire”

Cool, calculating, manipulative, imposing, and always the “smartest man in the room” — well, at least he thought he was always the smartest man in the room — few characters in television history had as much of a cultural impact as Bell did, and the previously unknown Elba was the perfect person for that star-making role.

Why does this matter? Well, it seems like Black women’s feelings about Elba are directly correlated to when they first saw him. Basically, my completely unscientific opinion tells me that the majority of the women who are gaga over him first saw him as Stringer Bell, while the majority of the women who don’t see what the big deal is first saw him in “Obsessed” or “Sometimes in April” or “Daddy’s Little Girls” — roles where he’s nowhere near as cool as he was on “The Wire.”

Now, if you were to ask those same Idris-obsessed women what exactly it is about him that saturates their panties, most would probably cite something having to do with his unmistakable and indescribable swagger. While I won’t say they’re incorrect, I think it goes a bit deeper than that.

As stated earlier, women who first saw Elba on “The Wire” seem to be the ones most enthralled with his “swag.” This is no accident. The character was intentionally written to be a person practically dripping in brooding confidence, and Idris Elba was placed in a perfect position to show off his attributes. His swag was able to resonate so deeply because of the manufactured coolness of the character he portrayed. In this sense, David Simon was the best wingman ever.

While thinking about how Elba’s hold over Black women’s ovaries is directly connected to him being placed in a position that enabled him to be cool, I couldn’t help but also think about how it applies to our dating and relationships lives. More specifically, how we put a premium on a man’s swagger and the effect it has on women even though his “coolness” actually matters much more than that.

The swagger/emotive confidence thing is something that many men just aren’t ever going to be able to possess. But, while many assume that this is a death knell to a man’s dating life (especially a Black man’s), any man can be cool if they can find a way to replicate the type of environment that made Idris the “epitome of sexy.” It probably won’t happen on the same scale (and by “probably” I mean “definitely”), but it can happen.

The problem with nerdy/socially awkward/introverted guys who claim to have difficulties meeting and attracting women isn’t their lack “swag” or that all women want bad boys or whatever self-depreciating excuse of the month happens to be popular. No, they’re  struggling because many of them are desperately trying to be something they’re not, and they haven’t found a way to manufacture their cool yet, leaving them stuck competing in places where they have no chance to succeed.

Let me put it this way: If you’re a shy and somewhat socially awkward engineer who has to labor to approach and talk to women, nightclubs, bars, and lounges probably aren’t the best places for you to meet them. You know what would be though? A NSBE conference. You know what would be even better? A NSBE conference where you’re a speaker on a panel about some super smart shit only 17 other people in the world understand. You know what would be even better than that? A panel you organized to gather people interested in some super smart engineer shit.

Basically, if you’re not “cool” in a traditional sense, put yourself in a position that enables you to be cool. And, if those positions don’t currently exist, invent them!

If you’re good at what you do and you’re able to put yourself in a position where your talents are recognized, trust me when I say that regardless of how weird, unusual, or “uncool” your specific skill is, there will be people out there who appreciate you for it. (and by “people” I mean “women”) Shit, if you’re a cat who happens to be an expert crocheter and a comic book maven, start a professional network for crocheting-ass n*ggas who like to read comic books, and watch how much more popular and “cool” you’ll get in if actually takes off.

Maybe you’ll never be the swagged out cat who attracts all the eyes at the club like Stringer Bell. But, if you’re a friendless recluse who has more experience with computer codes than coochie, invent something that brings people into your environment, on your playing field — something that makes people acknowledge whatever unique skill you bring to the table. If it worked for Mark Zuckerberg, it can also work for you.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

***If you haven’t noticed, we also posted our first “Very Smart Single” today as well. Check out R.G.’s profile and hit us up at contact@verysmartbrothas.com if interested in her***

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 Panama’s birthday! Please come out and hang the VSB team. Plus, it’s free before 11pm w/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) and $10 after. AND there’s an open bar from 930-10:30 WITH NO DRESS CODE. You can come in shorts because it gets HOT in there.

My Pittsburgh Problem

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From young Wallace’s bewilderment when venturing outside of the city and hearing crickets for the first time to Chris informing Snoop that people from outside of the Baltimore/D.C. area probably wouldn’t be very familiar with go-go music, a constant theme from the HBO series The Wire was how isolated inner city Baltimore’s inhabitants were from the rest of the world. Although — if the atlas application on my phone is correct — they’re neighbors with Towson, Essex, Silver Spring, and others, they might as well have been stuck on the island from Lost, aware of their star-crossed fate but completely unequipped, unable, and ultimately unwilling to change it.

No character embodied this mindset more than Old Face Andre — a mid-level dealer who happened to fall out of favor with the ruthless and reptilian drug kingpin Marlo Stanfield. In a subplot so sad and predictable that it’s actually funny, instead of just packing up and leaving town, Andre thinks that moving from West Baltimore to East Baltimore will save him from Marlo’s wrath.

He was wrong.

I’ve watched the full series (at least) three times. (I watched it “live,” and I’ve also re-watched the entire series with each of my last two girlfriends; at times even delaying sex to continue debates about Bodie Broadus’ motivations and Bill Rawls closet homosexuality.) I also developed an appetite for any and all things The Wire, engulfing and devouring every message board post, interview, article, profile, and conversation I could. At this point, I’d confidently bet a day’s pay that unless David Simon happens to be your cousin, you don’t know anyone who knows more about The Wire than I do.

I always assumed that my infatuation with The Wire was somewhat due to my unique personal background. While the show may have been a bit too real for some who grew up in similar circumstances and too foreign for those who lived galaxies away from that world, I grew up in a gang-infested East Liberty but was shielded from most real adversity by my (married) parents, my private school education, and my basketball. This combination of familiarity and distance allowed me to recognize some of the characters and themes while staying (relatively) emotionally detached from it. I had friends who grew up in households as toxic as the teenage characters on the show, but the fact that none of that stuff went on in my house made it easier for me to adopt a bit of a sober, deconstructionist view when watching and speaking about it.

But, as I’ve come to learn, this was all bullshit. It’s definitely still true that my upbringing protected me from harm and implanted a certain appreciation for many of the themes present in the series, but the connection I had with the show had nothing to do that. It came down to one hard to swallow fact: I am Old Face Andre.

While every single one of my closest childhood friends have left Pittsburgh for “greener” pastures, I’m still here; leaving only for college and returning as soon as my degree and my basketball eligibility had been completed. I wish I could say that I made the decision to come back because I had a plan, a promising job opportunity, or even a girl I was smitten with, but I’d be lying. In reality, I always considered it to be an inevitability; a concretized step on a pre-destined path. I came back because I just couldn’t fathom being anywhere else.

I imagine you think I’m being hyperbolic, that comparing myself to a drug dealer so short-sighted and ignorant that he basically chose certain death over leaving Baltimore is a stretch, and you’re probably be right. With a limited education and an extensive rap sheet, Old Face Andre’s options were limited by a series of decisions — decisions either made by him or completely out of his control. Maybe he wasn’t actually in prison, but he was far from free, and considering his circumstances, moving to East Baltimore may have actually been his most feasible choice.

But while my situation is far from as dire as Andre’s, I can’t help but note the similarities between us. My choice to blog/write/edit full-time gives me real incentive to leave Pittsburgh, as most of the career-making new media opportunities that would best suit the type of work I do are found in New York City and Washington, D.C. Yes, it’s true that I don’t necessarily have to leave the Burgh to build the career I want to build, but staying would be like to deciding to walk to Cincinnati the next time I visit my family there. Sure, it can be done, but driving or flying (or, well, not going to Cincinnati at all) would probably be a better plan.

Mind you, this is no anti-Pittsburgh rant. While the tone of the last couple paragraphs may have implied that I think I’m somehow “better” than the Burgh, this couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, the city is undoubtedly better than me — talented, unpretentious, unflappable, and blessed with understated beauty. If the Burgh was a random babe at The Shadow Lounge or Savoy, she’d be out of my league, and I’d probably have a better chance with one of her less attractive cousins (Cleveland) or her extremely glamorous and extremely self-esteem deficient co-worker (Atlanta).

It’s just that…I don’t know. I don’t know what’s keeping me here. I don’t know why I didn’t even consider staying in Buffalo when done with school. I don’t know why I feel like I need to somehow be validated by Pittsburgh, like being successful somewhere else just wouldn’t matter the same way. I don’t know why this city means so gotdamn much to me, and I don’t even know if I want this feeling to change.

Despite my love for “The Wire,” I’ve always been ambivalent about Old Face Andre’s last appearance on screen. Captured by Marlo’s henchman and destined for certain death, he asks his soon to be murderers not to shoot him in the face so that he can have an open casket funeral. The request itself isn’t what stirs the ambivalence, though, as much as the tone he used when asking. He pleas the same merry familiarity that a person would adopt when asking the kid working the register at Giant Eagle to double bag his groceries. Not only is he completely resigned to his fate, it seems like he’s almost welcoming it; like he knows he doesn’t matter enough to even attempt to fight for his life.

I never quite felt that this particular scene worked as well as the rest of the show. I just couldn’t buy that a man in that situation would still be so casual, so jocular. But, perhaps he was just tired. Tired of living in fear. Tired of being haunted by Baltimore. Tired of the pathos. Tired of the self-imposed shackles. Tired of allowing himself to be manipulated by nostalgia. And perhaps his subconscious recognized that he was just ready for a change; something…anything not Baltimore.

If this is true, I understand.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Season 4 of “The Wire” and The Rest of The Best Things…Ever

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just seeing those shirts makes me all verklempt

I first heard about “The Wire”—the best television show in the history of history—in the summer of 2003. I was at a family reunion and overheard my cousins Chad and Michael—both cops—raving about this new HBO show set in Baltimore. Since cop taste is kind of strange (trust me), I didn’t pay them much attention, but the show seemed intriguing enough to store in the back of my mental Rolodex.

Several months later, my closest friend (the one referenced in this post) starting bugging me about the show, except his words were less “hey, this is a great show. you should watch it some time” than “you’re a dumbass if you don’t watch this f*cking show”. I finally relented, caught up with back episodes (Seasons 1 and 2 had already aired, so I had to either watch them OnDemand or rent them from Blockbuster. I honestly don’t remember which), and fell in love.

Without going into much detail (or giving away any spoilers), “The Wire” was a show so comprehensive, so panoramic, so unique, and so compelling that “The Wire” diehards don’t have favorite lines, favorite scenes, and favorite seasons, we have “favorite instances of Bodie spitting“, “favorite arrangements of the show’s theme song“, and “favorite names for heroin” (my personal favorite? “WMD”)

Ok. I just lied. Season 4 of ‘The Wire” was undoubtedly, unquestionably, and undisputedly (is this a word?) my favorite (and the favorite of most Wire watchers). Not only is it the best single season of any American, British, Spanish, French, Canadian, or Aboriginal television show ever aired, it just might be the single best thing that’s ever happened on Earth. Season 4 of “The Wire” is better than sliced bread, the pyramids, Kenya Moore, the entire South American continent, the Vatican, the theory of relativity, the Old Testament, Bet Uncut, Chick-fil-A, every sport except American football and NBA basketball, you, me between the ages of 26 to 28, the entire Spring season, Stephen Hawking’s wheelchair, missionary sex, drunk missionary sex, warm socks in the winter, black women with French accents, your mom’s fried chicken, my dad’s steak marinade, and the cotton gin. God rested on the 7th day because he needed some time to catch up with season 4 of “The Wire”. If I were single and season 4 of “The Wire” were a woman, I would literally drink her bathwater…after she just ran a marathon…while on her period. (I know)

Anyway, with all the time we spend talking about things we hate, guilty pleasures, overrated shit, underrated shit, and just plain ol shit, I figured I’d devote today to The Best Things…Ever, and here’s a few more.

The Best Five Song Stretch on Any Hip-Hop Album…Ever? “All Falls Down“, “Spaceship“, “Jesus Walks“, “Never Let Me Down“, and “Get ‘Em High” from Kanye West’s “The College Dropout”

While I don’t believe “The College Dropout” was a top 15 hip-hop album as a whole (Why? Well, the album fades a bit in the second half. The 8 minutes of Ye speak at the end of the album doesn’t help either), you will not find another stretch of great songs back to back to back t0 back to back on any hip-hop album, ever.

The Best White Stand-Up Comedian…Ever? Louis C.K.

If you’ve never heard of him, goggle him, trust me when I tell you he’s better than anyone you’d list here instead of him—and that includes George Carlin, Lenny Bruce, Sam Kinison, Dennis Miller, Richard Jeni, Dana Carvey, Jerry Seinfeld, and Rodney Dangerfield—and watch his show.

The Best Unexplained Phenomenona…Ever? The Squirting Female Orgasm

I’ve been trying to think of another entity on the planet perfectly analogous to the squirt, and I keep coming back to the same thing: The Devil.

Seriously, think about it: Like the Devil, some people deny the squirt even exists. Like the Devil, some people have claimed to have seen it, but were fooled (she just peed on you, dog). Like the Devil, men will run to and give praise to God once they see definite proof of its existance. And, like the Devil, it can influence a man to do some really freaky shit. 

The Best Thing To Do If You’re in Pittsburgh and It’s Past 3am on The Weekend and You Just Left The Club But You Don’t Want To Go Home Yet…Ever? Go to the Eat ‘N Park all night breakfast buffet in Squirrel Hill

So what if the fruit is 27 days old, the eggs taste like they’re from chipmunks instead of chickens, and the bacon is softer than Brett Farve’s dick, Eat ‘N Park’s the place for smiles, sobering up, recounting the night, shaking your head at scantily clad 17 year olds out waaaaaay past their bedtime, and, well, pretending to be starving when you just want an excuse to extend the night with your crew.

The Best Season of a College Football Player…Ever? Charlie Ward, Florida State University, 1993

***Also wins the title for “The Best College Football Quarterback…Ever” and “The Recipient of The Best Body-Slam of a Soft-Spoken, Pass-First, Christian Point Guard…Ever”

The Best Male on Female Pick-Up Approach…Ever? The “Bait and Bounce”

Only to be done with someone you see on a semi-regular basis (you catch the same train to work, you frequent the same coffee shop, you belong to the same crocheting class, etc), the Bait and Bounce occurs when you see this person of interest, confidently walk up to them, introduce yourself, give them a sincere compliment—one implying you’ve noticed them before (ie: “I just wanted to tell you that you have the most endearing laugh. See, there it is again”), and walk away. Don’t even ask her name.

If she has even the slightest inkling of interest in you, the next time you see each other, she’ll probably do (smile) or say (introduce herself) something inviting, and you’re on your own from there.

***9:10am EDIT***

The Best Video Vixen…Ever? Esther Baxter

While others—Melissa Ford, Gloria Velez, Supahead, Vida Guerra—might have had bigger names, and others—Ki-Toy Johnson in the “I Like The Way You Move” video—might have had bigger “DAMN!” moments, Baxter has something none of the rest of these women do: 100 percent authenticity. No implants, no booty injections, no botox, just plain old-fashioned brickhousedness perfection.

The Best Crossover Dribble…Ever? Tim Hardaway, Golden State Warriors (Before the ACL Tear)

Tim Hardaway’s “UTEP Two Step”—a lightning fast right-to-left between the legs dribble, quickly followed by a lightning faster left-to-right crossover—was a violent deity, a Sun God sent from the sky to rid the Earth of misplaced pride, ankle ligaments, and Chris Mullin’s alcohol dependency. I’m not too ashamed to admit I think I may have had my first orgasm when watching him repeatedly completely decimate Byron Scott in a (1992?) Warriors vs Lakers game I’d pay at least $500 dollars for a copy of right now.

Runner ups: Allen Iverson (during his second year at Georgetown), Steve Francis (until whatever the hell happened to him…happened), and Ronald “Flip” Murray (Trust me)

***Also, special notice goes to incoming Duke freshman Kyrie Irving, who may do the impossible task of actually having me root for Duke this upcoming season. ***

Best Book That Actually Made Me Jealous I Didn’t Write It First…Ever? “Killing Yourself To Live” by Chuck Klosterman

Anyway, that’s enough of my Best Things…Ever (although I might make a couple edits during the day and add a few)

VSB.com, what are some of yours? What people, places, and things do you consider to be The Best…Ever?

—The Champ

5 thoughts about Rape-aXe, the new female condom with teeth (yup. teeth.)

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1. south africa has always been a bit ahead of the curve when thinking of unique ways to deter crime. for instance, as a response to a rash of increasingly violent carjackings that plagued that country in the late 90′s, the “blaster” –an anti-carjacking device that shot flames from underneath both front doors if you were being carjacked– was created in 1998 by a south african inventor who apparently decided to take full advantage the country’s lax flamethrower laws (apparently, it’s perfectly legal to own and carry flamethrowers there. yes, flamethrowers. as in “big ass weapons that spit flames at sh*t”. and you thought america’s gun laws sucked.)

while installing a device that shoots liquefied petroleum gas from your car to ward off potential carjackings is like sharpening your hand into a human meat shank to scare muggers, i understand the mindset that leads to someone inventing that. remember, south africa has only been free from apartheid for 16 years. this is also a country where whites still control roughly 90 percent of the wealth, despite only being approximately 9 percent of the population. when you combine this dynamic with rampant unemployment, lawlessness, and a general sense of sexual recklessness, you have a country that shows you what would happen if you put all of america’s fear-based racial issues on crack, smack, meth, and mushrooms. basically, it’s west baltimore with shanties.

anyway, this is exactly the type of socioeconomic climate that leads to a fear-based reactionary thinking where the impractical and short-sighted seems practical. problem with carjackings? duh, just make cars that burn carjackers alive! that’ll fix em. problem with rapes? duh, stupid! just invent Rape-aXe¹, a device that calls for women to insert a contraption with “jagged rows of teeth-like hooks” in their vaginas.

i won’t pretend to be able to grasp the level of emotional, spiritual, physical, mental, and sexual agony a violent rape has on a woman (or man) or the pressure of living in a place where rape is so prevalent (28% of men polled in a medical research study there last year admitted that they had raped a woman before. 28%!!! can you imaging being in a place where almost one out of every three guys is a rapist?), but there has to be a better solution than giving women portable p*ssy piranhas.

2. for those who think i unnecessarily played the race card in the last few paragraphs, i just don’t think it’s coincidental that the inventors of both rape-aXe and the blaster happen to be south african whites. there’s a certain type of subconscious fear that allows a person to think of something so vile and dehumanizing as a response to vile and dehumanizing acts. and, a place like south africa is a perfect breeding ground for that level of latent terror.

3. out of all of the crimes you can commit, sexual assault is the only one with no possible justification. think about it: you can just about justify anything under the right circumstance (“yeah, judge. that army of five year olds would have killed my wife if i didn’t torture their leader for information“), but there’s nothing you can say to make non-consensual sex ok. it’s the world’s only unconditional wrong. i can’t think of any other deed that would qualify.

4. maybe i’m missing something here, but it seems like rape-aXe doesn’t actually stop the rape.

while it might stop a man from finishing, i haven’t seen or read any evidence that it would stop a man from entering. and, once a woman is entered against her will, it’s rape. plus, i’m no rape expert, but i don’t think most rapists do thorough cavity inspections to check for sharpness before they start raping.

i guess you can say that it would serve as a mental deterrent, but i can only see it deterring someone who got got by the vampire condom from doing it again. basically, he’d have to actually rape somebody to stop him from raping again…which sucks for the women serving as sacrificial deterrent lambs.

5. despite the fact that i think this condom with teeth idea is wrapped in a big-ass gang of wrong, i’ll admit that i’d like to be a fly on the wall of the holding cell where all the rapists with latex hyenas stuck to their d*cks are being held, especially since you can’t remove it or even pee without a doctors assistance.

i guess i’m a bit of a sadist afterall. hmmm, maybe i should move to south africa and invent something.

anyway, people of vsb.com, what are your thoughts about rape-aXe? do you think it’ll be a useful deterrent, or just another medieval invention by someone with african castration fantasies? also, would any of the vss’s actually wear one, and would any of the vsb’s advise a woman they care about to?

the carpet is yours

¹am i the only one who thinks “rape-aXe” definitely sounds like a new and intentionally douchy line of axe body spray? sh*t, i could even envision an ad where ben roethlisberger or kobe are standing in a bathroom stall while a voiceover says ” rape-aXe…where “no” means “no problem”

—the champ