Relationship Things That Stop Being Cute Past A Certain Age

phone sleepI don’t know at what point it happens. I wish I did because then I could tell you at what point it happens…but I don’t know so I can’t. The point here is that, it happens.

We all get old. Now this isn’t a bad thing and old is more of a state of mind anyway. I was almost sure when I was 21 that being 34 would basically be the point where I’d be chillin’ in the hiznayee for good. It turns out that 21 and 34 really aren’t that different. I mean I make a lot more money and have seen a lot more things but the fun hasn’t stopped. However, there are things that I used to do when I was 21 that I thought were so great and stuff that in my older state I wonder why anybody would do such things. They’re not only inconvenient, but impractical.

Here are a few things that seem so cute and sh*t in your youth(ness) but at some point, seem to be not as…cute (though admittedly, I’d probably still do them all because love. because heart.)

Three hour phone + calls that last into the wee hours of the morning

I’ve been on more than my fair share of REALLY REALLY long phone calls that last way longer than they probably should. Namely because I’ve been in quite a few long distance relationships. Here’s the thing, it’s not that a long ass phone call isn’t cutesy. Having that much to talk about with somebody…now that’s a beautiful thang. Shucks, I love it when I can talk to somebody and the party don’t stop til I run through it. However, at some point, when that convo starts at 1130pm and doesn’t end til 3am you know you’re losing out on? Sleep. You’re draggin’ a$$ the next day at work because you couldn’t tear yourself from the phone. And I know, nobody wants to get off the phone. Love and other drugs and sh*t. But sleep deprivation is real. I really enjoy sleeping.

Really, really long walks anywhere

I love taking long walks around the park after dark like anybody. Seriously, I do. But that’s a park. Let me tell you all a story. A few years back I ended up on a maybe 4 hour walk around the District of Columbia. The circumstances could be a made-for-tv movie, but I won’t get into those. The point was, stuff like, during the Cherry Blossom Festival no less, could be deemed romantic. And that sh*t is cool…until 3 hours into it you realize that you have to walk BACK to your car. My hitta my hitta, that walk back was BRUTAL. And there was a time when that walk back was still just part of the romanticism. At some point, you realize that your feet hurt because you don’t have on walking shoes. Folks ask for piggy back rides because they don’t want to walk back either. So yeah, cute and sh*t? Yep. Taking a 10 mile walk just cuz you’re in love and all that jazz? Yeah…no.

Skinny dipping

Have you ever been skinny dipping and tried to smash in a pool? That sh*t seems so caayute but as I’ve gotten older it just doesn’t have the same appeal. I can’t quite explain this one. I need help.

Matching…anything

You know, I can’t lie. At one point, I looked like the very kind of picture that would spread like wildfire on Twitter with the hashtag #matchinalfets. I did that. Somehow, a woman can’t convince a dude to do nearly anything. True story. If you care, you won’t fight every battle. One of those battles is the battle over matching. there have been times in my younger days where my color choices were remarkably similar to those of my woman. It may seem cute at the time – we love each other – that sh*t is just tragic after a certain point. There is never a way for that to be cool.

Petty fights that lead to makeup sex

While makeup lovin’ may be great…at some point you realize that fighting to get to it is REAAAAAALLY not the business. While you may think this is an odd addition, I know people who absolutely need dysfunction in order to feel love. Word up.

You know what, I have a few others, but I want to see what folks come up with to see if I’m right as rain on that front.

And just because it needs to be said, F*ck winter. 70 degrees on Saturday and SNOW on Sunday?????????? Somebody told Mother Nature that she was the sidechick. She no likey. She rebel.

So what say you? Are there things that stop being cute after a certain point? Hell, are there things that will NEVER not be part of the relationship equation? What you got?

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

 

The People I Hate The Most…by Panama Jackson

Dear the following groups of people,

0A276E0C-1F70-4532-90174222A94B06D7I hate you. And don’t misunderestimate my use of the word hate. I don’t mean it in a “just really get annoyed” type of way. Nope, I have real, visceral feelings towards you. I’d like to pull off your toenails and feed them to llamas while I make you recite every line Morgan Freeman has ever uttered in a movie in Samuel Jackson’s voice. I want to blow dandelion pollen into your face and make you drink skim milk from a saucer. Not even a ceramic one either, like a paper saucer.

Who are you people who are part of the following groups of people for which I addressed this letter by myself, Panama Jackson? You people are the following groups of people:

 People who read while walking

Listen up motherf*cker. I understand that the book you’re reading is so stupendous that you can’t put it down. It’s probably some bullsh*t Malcolm Gladwell wrote. I get it. Read like the wind, grasshopper. But look where the f*ck you are going. Seriously. If you’re a woman you already can’t walk in a straight line when you’re paying attention (yeah, I said it. Shots fired.) But now you’re engrossed in some sh*t that has taken your full attention, meanwhile I’m just trying to get to my final destination without bumping into random motherf*ckers I see in the street, but noooooooooooooooo…here you go, zig zagging like you learned something about how not to get shot from watching Ricky get shot in Boyz N The Hood. And that’s great, don’t get shot and sh*t. In fact, again, read like the wind, grasshopper. Just don’t make ME be the one who has to play minefield with your monkey ass because you’re all over the damn sidewalk. THEN have the nerve to look at me like I got in your way. Eat burnt toast. Sucka nword you can stunt all you wanna stunt, I know you won’t buss a gun yeah punk I’m talkin’ to you!

People who refuse to budge and make room on sidewalks

I won’t say exactly who, but if you want to see what rhymes with sprite friveledge in all its glory, just walk on any sidewalk towards a group of sprite people and you will find yourself engulfed in a game of chicken. One of you is going to have to move so that nobody has to walk in the grass, since you know, sidewalk and sh*t. But I’ll bet you all the 40 acres and mules that the sprite people will NOT move one bit and will EXPECT you to step into the grass so as to not disrupt their gait. Granted, this also works in the kingdom of ninjadom too if the roles are reversed, but since there’s no such thing as Black privilege I’m not even sure what to call it. Payback? The Washington Generals winning a game? Me no know. But if there is a group of Black men (in particular) walking and a white man approaching, that white man is getting THE f*ck out of the way. What I need to see is a group of white males and a group of Black males approaching one another on a small sidewalk. I’m guessing that WESSSYDE Story breaks out. F*ck everybody who won’t move to invoke either sprite frivelege or payback.

And speaking of motherf*ckers who won’t move…

Bicyclists who think that having the right of way means everybody should pay attention but them

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, especially in DC, I hate motherf*ckers on bicycles. Mostly because there is this entitlement that just because you’re saving the environment AND exercising AT THE SAME DAMN TIME you are better than me. You’re only not dying at the hands of my fiberglass molding because the law says its illegal. If you don’t pay attention, that’s not my fault. If I’m making a right turn and YOU come flying past me on my right hand side and almost get kilted, IT IS YOUR F*CKING FAULT, NOT MINE. But you wanna get in your feelings because I’m supposed to pay attention to where you are at all times? Get a bell, b*tch. My car is rock and your bike is scissors. I will crush you. The big guy doesn’t have to know where the little guy is ESPECIALLY when he doesn’t even know the little guy exists. But you are on the road. You know there are cars. Just pay attention dilweed. Because if you talk sh*t from your bike its not like a more unbalanced mofo WON’T try to run you down.

People crossing the street while I have the green light bc pedestrians always have the right of way

Speaking of not respecting machinery. If your monkey ass sees that I have a green light AND AM ON THE WAY THROUGH THE LIGHT, do NOT attempt to try to beat me just because you’ve got nothing better to do with your time than a potential assisted suicide. For one, that’s just f*ckign rude. Ask a n*gga, first. For b, The fastest runners in the world clock in around 23/24 MPH, with Usain Bolt getting upwards of 27 MPH. You are no Usain Bolt. But do you know who is? My car. My car whips Usain Bolt’s ass. Look, you have the right of way. I get it. I really do. But do you know why they put the flashing white man and red man on street corners? For order. It reduces chaos. So when I have a green light, a color designated to me by the somebody as my indication to move forward, and I’m moving forward as indicated and allowed, legally, when you attempt to thwart this freedom, I feel all angsty and sh*t. I do not like feeling angsty. F*cking stop it.

You groups of people are the ones I hate the most. I would love it if you would all kick rocks with open toed sandals.

.

.

.

.

Kthxbi,

Panama Jackson

Those are the people/groups of people I hate the most? What you got?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Stay Black. And Die.

photo(3)In the days that have passed since the Jordan Davis/Michael Dunn mistrial verdict on the count of murder in first degree, the following picture has been circulated frequently via social media. Put a pin in that, we’ll come back to it.

Before we go further, let me go ahead and say this upfront. I’m not a lawyer. I’m not even qualified to be a paralegal and I’ve never been to or seen an Everest College campus or student. So I’ll concede that my legal acumen is subpar, but I do have a really hard time understanding how you can be convicted of attempted murder for spraying a car but not be convicted of the success of your attempts.

While I don’t understand it, I see how it happened. While watching news coverage on Friday evening of the jury deliberations via the Jane Velez-Mitchell show on HLN, they were taking callers. One of the callers, clearly an older white male stated what I feel is an unfortunate but not surprising sentiment shared by many folks paying attention: why did the boys in the truck drive off then come back without taking him to the hospital? It is the belief of quite a few people that somehow, someway, those boys dumped of the gun that made this man feel scared for his life enough to dump 10 shots into a Durango at fairly close range. Somehow, this man (and a few other callers) seemed very disinterested in the psychopathic nature of Mr. Dunn, just the behavior of the youth that caused Mr. Dunn to fear for his life. Emphasis mine and intentional. Causation is a b*tch.

Which leads back to the picture and the message therein. Simply, white folks and Black folks have different “important” talks with their sons. This is true. It was true before the recent spate of high profile deaths by Black males at the hands of white people and it will be true if we never have another Black man die in the same fashion again.

To put it all on the table and go Captain Obvious, there has always been a different set of rules for Black people and white people. I remember my father teaching me the most important lesson of my even now to date. He sat me down and said to me quite clearly, “(Panama), your mother is white. You are not.” I never had any identity issues after that. But what followed was a string of conversations about what it meant to be a Black man in America. What was most interesting is that I didn’t even live in America while I was receiving these conversations. Near my home in Bad Homburg, Germany (right outside of Frankfurt) was this huge field. My father would tell me to come with him and we’d make the long walk to the field and walk around and he’d fill me in on life. Sometimes it was about the birds and the bees, but many times it was about what life looks like for people like us.

I imagine those conversations have been happening for 100s of years at this point. Because it’s always been different. Hell, my father STILL manages to drop those nuggets of information when its relevant. It’s why most Black males (and Black people) have such a healthy distrust of the police. Its also not just the police, either. It’s what happens AFTER the police do police things to us. It’s the knowledge that your freedom is pretty much like a car window. You can roll it up and lock your doors, but its just a piece of glass. If somebody wants to break into your car, it takes nothing to get into it. Your freedom is fragile and easy to destroy. And once its been tampered with, you realize that everybody else gets the opportunity to destroy you regardless of the facts. The numbers of people released due to the Innocence Project illustrates that very clearly. As a Black male, you spend your life doing your damnedest trying to NOT end up in the system at all. Well, most of us do. You figure if you just live your life right then you should be okay. And that probably is the situation.

But its when we’re robbed of the potential of the Black community that we’re reminded just how fragile that freedom is. Which is why we have to have those talks in the first place. Those talks wouldn’t have prevented that situation. In fact, the necessary talk in Florida is probably to tell all Black males to avoid all interaction with white men. But that’s just not realistic, is it?

photo(4)I also saw this other picture all over social media. I think this one is a bit unfair. Nobody is going to want to hear this but it’s not just “white vision” glasses that see this picture. While I’m happy that we can all rally in our community behind miscarriages of justice in the courtroom, and Black boys do matter, many Black people view certain Black males in the exact same fashion as white people do – sometimes for the same reasons, sometimes for different reasons. I get the point being made, and perhaps its unnecessary to even point out that Black folks are just as guilt of this stereotyping, but my point is that we have some work to do on our own. We’re mad that Black boys don’t matter, but to some degree, we’re just not pulling the trigger on them. That’s food for thought for that ass.

And I’ll be the first to admit how conflicted I can be. It’s like the scene in Crash where Ludacris’s character is going on about how unfair it is to be stereotyped as a thug who is about to commit a robbery…and then commits a robbery because he’s exactly who they think he is. It’s the justification for paranoia: If I’m right then I’m right; but if I’m wrong, I could have been right, so I’m still right because maybe I’m not wrong. While this doesn’t hold up in court (or at least shouldn’t), I know many people who not only live by this credo, they are married to it til death do they part. Interestingly, none of them feel Dunn was right in any way, shape, or form.

“I don’t have to do sh*t but stay Black and die.” I’ve heard this statement more times that I can count. Usually stated in some form of defiance after somebody attempts to tell another what to do. Rarely is it meant to be prophesy. It’s supposed to be dying on our own terms as God intends. Not at the hands of another who doesn’t respect your life or even acknowledge that it exists.

Stay Black and die. Okay. But we probably need to amend those talks not only to include the police and the justice system to “boy, you don’t have to do anything but stay Black and try not to die at the hands of white man who will not be held accountable by those police or that justice system I already told you about.”

Yeah. That.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

All Of Men And Women’s Issues Can Be Tied To This Very Scenario: Do You Want Me To Come Over or Nah?

(via Guymoments)

For those who can’t see the video because your technology is in beta mode circa 2002, let me break this down very simply. And this is a scenario that I’m sure nearly everybody who has ever dated somebody is familiar with.

Girl calls Boy and says she’s in neighborhood and asks him if he wants her to come over.

Boy says, “I ain’t trippin. You can do that.”

Girl says, “What does that mean? Do you WANT me to?”

Boy says, “It’s cool if you come by, but if you don’t, it’s okay too.”

Girl says, “So you aren’t looking forward to me coming by?”

You know how the rest of this goes. Boy gets flustered, girl gets pissed. Boy can’t believe this turned into an actual argument. Girl can’t believe boy doesn’t understand her simple request. Boy realizes he actually doesn’t want her to come over any longer. Girl determines that boy is an asshole.

Quick synopsis here as this situation is likely familiar enough to everybody where much discussion on my part ain’t necessary. I will never understand why this battle gets fought. I really won’t. You called me in the middle of whatever the hell I was doing. Which means that at the time, no, I wasn’t thinking about your monkey ass. But you call and are all like, “Oooooh we love you PJ, I’m around the corner, you want me to stop by.” At which point I’m like, sure, cool. Come thru. That’s the green light. The whole, “wait, but do you want me part” is sooooooooo unnecessary. That’s like calling your damn hairdresser and being like, “hey, I’m free, can you do my hair right now?” She’s like “cool.” You’re not going to ask her, “oh, but do you want to do my hair?”

And miss me with the intimacy. Relationships with hairdressers and barbers are as personal as sh*t gets. You actually have to break up with them. Real talk. I just avoided my barber. It was easier for all of us.

But, I know women have this whole “I want you to want to do xyz”. I even alluded to it in my last post about a perfect man. You want to feel wanted. And that’s cool, and I’m gon’ let you finish, but real spit…bye Felicia.

It’s an unnecessary fight. You called me and I’m like, “it’s cool.” You want me to be just as excited about your idea at the moment you have as you are despite the fact that you probably “ended” up in my neighborhood with a plan in the first place.

This is the breakdown point for men and women. And it was ARTFULLY crafted from the male’s point of view via the video. Especially our frustration. We go from like, “yeah, come thru” to actually NOT wanting you to come by. At all.

Man wants something? He makes the call, gets it, or does it. When presented with option that we’re okay with, we say “cool, that’ll work”. It should end there.

The rest of that drama can be kept for your mama. Oh, and your cousin too.

Ladies, make this make sense to me. Please. Fellas…can you help me??

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. SHE’S KILLIN’ MY VIBE SHE’S KILLIN’ MY VIBE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Words I Hate Because of The Internet

This dude right here. Joe "Pimpin' Ain't Easy But Somebody's Gotta Do It" Namath

This dude right here. Joe “Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy But Somebody’s Gotta Do It” Namath

First things first, shout outs to the Seattle Seahawks who put THE most tremendous asswhippin’ on the Denver Broncos at the Super Bowl. Good googly moogly. In a bout of “that’s what she said” that D held it down like none other. Despite the title of this post, the gifs and memes I saw at the expense of Peyton Manning and the Broncos definitely made my evening. Congrats to the Legion of Boom and the 12th Man.

Oh, Internet, how I love and hate thee. While the Internet might be the place where baskets full of kittens reside and where the people who created the Irish Springs smell all met, it’s also the holding cell for some of the worst denizens of humanity. Now don’t get me wrong, I love doing hoodrat things with my friends just like everybody else so I do have a certain ironic appreciation for the worst of times, you know, Ishmael and all.

What?

Exactly.

Moving on. Since I spend so much time on the ‘nets (no Brooklyn) reading and engaging and putting rings on things in the way of likes, comments, and up, up for the downvote, I have come to realize that there are certain terms, ideas, and phrases that have come to annoy the living f*ck out of me on the Internet. It’s not because the words themselves are a problem, it’s because they’ve been debated, dispuated, hated and viewed in America by so many folks that I get lost in the sauce. And because I don’t trust things I don’t understand and since I found Jesus next to my love in a hopeless place, well, I figured I’d share with you the words I current hate because of the Internet.

Ready, set, go.

1. Thirst/Thirst trap

Amazingly, because the Internet has over used the concept of a thirst trap so much, I find myself using the term…though usually in the most non-sensical way possible. For instance, I’ll be at church and the pastor will say “Jesus saves” and I’ll say, “yeah, Jesus was thirst trappin’.” Okay, that’s not true, I wasn’t in church when I said that. Point is, the terms “thirst” “thirst trap” have become SO overrused via people everywhere that I’ve started to hate their existence. A lot. EVERYTHING IS NOT A DAMN THIRST TRAP.

2. Theory

Can we rap a taste? Cool. I’m so gotdamn tired of people positing their “theories” about everything. Just because you have a thought doesn’t mean you have a theory. Though I suppose every idea that you have about why something happens is technically a theory. Somehow, Twitter is amiss with everybody and their damn theories about theories. I’ve got a theory that your theory is wrong my ninja. Stop theorizing. Theoretically, I’m just over people and their damn theories. Can we come up with a new word or something for “people on the internet thinking?” Please, for the love of the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria.

Do you all realize that Christopher Columbus was ridin’ around with that Nina?

*rimshot*

These are the jokes folks. I’m here every Tuesday.

3. Rape culture

This is a touchy one, but creep with me. Pun. I had NEVER heard the term rape culture until it became one of the most ubiquitous terms ANYWHERE online to discuss boys behaving badly. And to be clearly, boys do behave badly. But I think it started to get taken too far. I’m almost surprised that Richard Sherman’s rant heard ’round the world didn’t SOMEHOW get turned into a discussion of rape culture. And I’m so dead serious. I’m not saying it doesn’t exist – there clearly is a rape culture that’s probably not had such a defining term attached to it before – but there was a time on the Internet where tossing the word rape culture a littering didn’t seem far fetched. Seriously.

4. Feminism

I said it before so I won’t go too deep here, but again, the idea and concept of feminism has been SO skewered by the Internets that I’m at the point of (perhaps convenient) disdain for it. The term, not the movement. Women’s rights and equality. I’m for that sh*t.

5. Narrative

I HATE the idea of everything as a narrative. But when you read as many stories online about n*ggas theories on things such as feminism, and rape culture, well, the word narrative shows up pretty much EVERY time. Everything gets devolved into a narrative of something or other now. Goldie Locks and the 3 Bears isn’t just a fairy tale, its a narrative that speaks to the what the skinny white yoga girl was alluding to the other day…and my next one…

6. White privilege

It clearly exists, but I think some folks concept of white privilege may not be as fine tuned as we think. Just saying, the next 10 times I hear the term white privilege in terms of somebody getting that last Coke out the machine will be…well, the next 10 times.

You know, I really should have titled this post: My Theory about the Narrative of The Effects of Rape Culture, Feminism and the Thirst of White Privelege.

Except then I’d have to blow my brains out. Fight me.

So, are there any words or terms you now hate because of the Internet?

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. I HATE EVERYTHING aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3