Category Archives: lists

Why Dating Me Could Suck

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This would be me if I was white and she just asked me how I feel about the Kyoto Protocol.

Quite obviously, I am the bees knees. I’m very important and I have many leather bound books and my apartment reeks of fresh mahogany. And ladies, when I get married, it’s going to be on top of a mountain, and there’s going to be flutes playing and trombones and flowers and garlands of fresh herbs. And there will be dancing till the sun rises. And then my children will form a family band. And we will tour the countryside.

You won’t be invited.

I’m all that. Silverfish handcatch swag.

Yet, I realize that there are things about myself that could drive any woman to drink. I know that we spend a lot of time in this corner of the internets explaining why we’re all perfect beings who listen to classical music and sh*t fairy dust couplets of Shakespearean sonnet, but alas…we’re not all without flaw. Personally, I’m just an ordinary people. I don’t know which way to go. My iPhone tells me one thing but my heart tells me something else.

All yokes aside (*rimshot*, no Rusty Trombone), we all love to explain why we’re great dating partners and why everybody else is the problem. Well, today I decided to let you in on the unawesomeness that can be PJ3. Basically, the things about dating me that just might suck. Or at least could drive you absolutely batsh*t. And by you, I mean women in general. Keep in mind, I don’t think that I suck, just that I understand why some things about me could suck to other people who indubitably suck for not being as fawesome as I am. Just like that, I undid all the goodwill.

Allons-y!

1. I get absolutely booooooooooored with politics and deep discourse as a rule

I have a friend who likes to be apart of nothing but deep conversations. Can’t knock her hustle but I’m so not that dude. In fact, I often bore of depth and purposeful rigamaroll. I’ll write about it on occasion and spend time really digging, but at the end of the day, I’d rather talk about why it’s impossible to move as much weight as so-and-so claims. Or pop culture. I love waxing philosophical about pop culture and the characters involved. Basically, while I can speak about things that require reading, I’d rather spend my afternoon talking about ninjadom.You can keep your C-SPAN dreams. I will talk about why we won’t make it as a people though. Ad nauseum.

2. I’m insanely insensitive at times, especially when it comes to race matters

Sometimes I even surprise myself with the sh*t I say outloud. People tend to find it endearing, until they hate me. You think I just write like this? Naw son, I talk like this normally. It’s not a game. Ask all the El Salvadorans I keep calling Mexican. Point is, I’m going to say something insensitive…often. Sensitive ninjas need not apply even though sensitive people love putting in applications for stuff that will burn them. What’s in your wallet?

3. I can seriously eat at the same places every.single.day.

That drives folks crazy. One thing I hate f*cking around with is my food. I do not like ordering sh*t I don’t understand and then not liking the sh*t I didn’t understand in the first place. Basically, I’m a foodie’s worst nightmare. Of course, I’ll try anything once. But its hard for me to appreciate your $35 presentation of sorbet…which I really think you should call sherbert and come in rainbow colors.

4. Speaking of food…I’m always ordering chicken fingers

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, beyotch.

5. I really could do a movie night 7 nights a week

Now I wouldn’t actually force that upon anybody. And also, my movie night isn’t codeword for bone. My Netflix queue is gangbusters, my dealer. I have every bad black movie flagged and I really want to watch them. It’s perfect bonding time because Bad Black Movie Watching is a communal activity and contact sport. Add some liquor to the mix and it’s all good like a Sunday in Baltimore. And just to prove to you that I’m not just trying to swagsurf you out, I may put you out afterwards. Point is, I can see why this could get old for anybody real quick.

6. I hate doing cultural sh*t just for the sake of doing it (same with going out out)

I’ve learned that a lot of people, especially in DC, like to do sh*t just to say they did it because it exists. Can’t knock the hustle, Jay, but eees no me. If I said it, I meant it, bite my tongue for no one. Call me evil? I’m unbelievable. You want to go see that exhibit of the first insecticide repellant plant in African-American history (what?). Naw duke, I’m trying to go get my “Rack City b*tch…rack, rack city b*tch on…”

That’ll do pig.

Well there you go. I put some of my non-sense on blast. Won’t you be my neighbor? What about you might drive other folks crazy?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. BAD BLACK MOVIE KING aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

I’m Not Ashamed: That Ignant Sh*t We’re Not Afraid To Like

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Although yesterday’s “Things Bougie Black Girls Say”¹ may have implied otherwise, I don’t have anything against them at all. In fact, I’d say that the vast majority of the 25 to 35 year old women I’m close to qualify. Many of my homegirls are Thai-loving Deltas, and how else would I know that Target makes bougie black girls squirt without being in the room while it happens?

Also — and I’m sure this admission won’t shock anyone reading this — I’m (somewhat) bougie myself.  Brunch is my favorite meal, I too find myself asking “Wait, who else is going?” whenever I’m invited somewhere, and while I won’t join you at the Smiling Banana Leaf, I won’t think twice about dropping 25 bucks for a gourmet cheeseburger.

Despite this bougieness, there are a few particularly anti-bougie things I just can’t get enough of — sh*t that’s about as legitimately tacky, gaudy, uncouth, ignant, and, gasp, ratchet as one can get. I wouldn’t call them guilty pleasures either, because there’s absolutely no guilt involved, no shame in my game. I like it, and if you don’t like the fact that I like it, you can like deez.

This list includes…

Rick Ross

I know his subject matter is about as varied as the skin tones of the crowds at Rick Santorum rallies, and I know his incessant grunting, “uhhh”-ing, and “whooo!!!”-ing occasionally makes it feel like I’m listening to a warthog masturbate, but I can’t deny the fact that his music makes me repeat things like “I levitate on all you p*ssy n*ggas” to myself while waiting in line at Au Bon Pain.

Also, he actually is a good rapper. Panama mentioned this to me a year or so ago and I scoffed at him, but he actually does check all the cadence, word play, and “beatrideability” boxes you’d want.

(Btw, with both Twinkie and Maybach going under within days of each other, isn’t Rick Ross having the worst week ever?)

The Twerk Team, and various other strippers, pseudo porn stars, and kitchen sink twerkers on YouTube and WorldStarHipHop

You ever happen to view some video of some random hoodrat bootyclapping in her bathroom, see that the vid has like 400,000 views, and wonder “Who the hell are these 400,000 people that sit around and watch videos like this all day?”

I’m not saying I’m one of those people, but, well, I’m just not saying that I’m one of those people.

Kool-Aid

Yes, I know it’s nothing but water, sugar, compressed paint chips, and asbestos. Yes, I know that too much of it will give me the gout or the diabeetis. And yes, I know “Hey, you want some Kool-Aid?” makes bougie black girl’s panties drier than KG’s lips.

But, there’s no other beverage that manages to go well with hotcakes, hotdogs, and hangovers alike, and the Kool-Aid test — Can you make a half gallon pitcher without looking at the directions? — is my version of the bougie black girl’s passport test.

American Muscle Cars

My love for Chargers is well-documented, but I don’t think that linked article fully encapsulates my infatuation. Let’s put it this way: You ever play the “what would you buy?” game, where you’re asked what car you’d purchase first if you had an unlimited income? (Btw, if this sentence urges you to leave a comment talking about how we’ll never rise as a people as long as we keep talking about spending money on the white man’s chariot, please quell that urge, and please go stick your head in a toilet and flush it)

Well, while my first choice is usually the Panamera, my second choice is usually “You know, I’d probably just buy a 700 horse power engine and put in my car.” Who cares if this choice shows that my imagination game is on “comatose,” and who gives a damn that the only time I’d actually be able to use the extra horses is when I’m speeding through a yellow light on the way to Trader Joe’s. That’s what I want, if you still have an issue with it, we can meet outside after brunch and “settle” our disagreement.

That’s enough ignance and ratchetrey for me. People of VSB, we already know that you negroes skew bougie, so list some decidedly non-bougie things that you’re not afraid or ashamed to admit that you like.

¹Thought you all might like to know that not only did “Shit Bougie Black Girls Say” have the most unique visits in VSB history, it beat the next closest entry by 17,000. I guess the bougie nerve is quite sensitive. 

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Shit Bougie Black Girls Say

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The bougie black girl's patron saint

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock or one of Rick Ross’ breasts for the past month, you’ve undoubtedly seen, read, or heard about “Shit Girls Say” and the dozens of increasingly contrived spin-offs it’s spawned. (Seriously, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if went on YouTube and saw “Shit Gay German-Ethiopian Boys Say To Baltimore Strip-Club Bouncers”)

As a friend and I were discussing these videos earlier in the week, she half-jokingly complained that no one made a video about things her demographic — the biracial woman — says. I corrected her, saying that “Shit Bougie Black Girls Say” would definitely be more appropriate for her “Hampton undergrad, Harvard grad”-ass ass.

Her response was predictable. First, she did what every single black person who’s ever been accused of being bougie by anyone at any time always does first: deny the fact that she’s bougie. Then, she denied the fact that bougie black girls even say or do anything “special enough” to warrant an entire video for them.

As you’ll begin to see in the next paragraph, I disagreed.

“Does he own a passport?”

If you’re ever in doubt as to whether a black girl is truly bougie, ask her if she’d date a guy who didn’t own a passport. If she says something normal like “I guess. I mean, I don’t see why not.” she’s probably not. But, if she recoils in fear, breaks out in hives, and starts running in circles while crying and screaming “NONONONONONONONO!!!!!!” you’ve probably found yourself a bougie black girl.

Bougie black girls reading this, can you explain something to me? What is the big deal with the passport? I mean, I understand loving to travel and wanting your potential beau to be able to travel with you, but what’s preventing you from just asking him to get one. Seriously, the conversation would go exactly like this:

“Hey, I want to go to Spain this summer, and I’d like you to come with me. Do you have a passport?”

“No, nubian princess, God of my Earth, but I’d love to make that trip with you, and I can get one.”

“Cool.” 

(See how easy that was?)

“That’s my favorite Thai restaurant”

For whatever reason, Thai food has catapulted past all other international cuizines as the bougie black girl’s default food of choice, leaving Ethiopian food, Indian food, and p*ssy juice in it’s curry-scented dust.

Perhaps the collective decision to be Thai food philes occurred in one of those mysterious early Saturday morning meetings Delta chapters love to have. If that’s true, it helps to explain why they each have to devote like 30% of their yearly income to Delta dues. They’re not giving back to the main office. They’re putting their money together to fund all these gotdamn Thai restaurants popping up all over the damn place.

Also, note how the bougie black girl says “that’s my favorite” — a linguistic trick letting the listener know that her bougie ass has been to enough Thai restaurants to be able to deem one her favorite.

“I’m not bougie”

I referenced this before — bougie motherf*ckers never seem to want to acknowledge their bougieness — but, the more I think about it, the more I think this denial is inauthentic. I think they enjoy being thought of as bougie because it assigns a certain social status to them. But, since they know it’s not socially acceptable to relish that status, they verbally deny it while doing mental jumping jacks of joy. (“He called me bougie! This means that he thinks I’m worth some effort! Lemme pretend not to be bougie so he doesn’t think I’m too siddity“)

“Where’s brunch?”

Panama’s already touched on this, but bougie black girls love brunch more than fat crackheads love Home Depot.

“I’m so ratchet.”

Sign #318 that you’re definitely, unequivocally, absolutely, unmistakably, positively, and emphatically NOT ratchet: You refer to yourself as ratchet.

“Wait, who’s going to be there?” 

It doesn’t matter if they’re going to a party or just going out to the front lawn to pick up the newspaper, bougie black girls don’t even consider going anywhere unless they know exactly who else is going. Now, finding out that some of the “wrong” people are going doesn’t necessarily stop them from going, but it does influence their attire, mode of transportation, intoxication level, tph (tweets per hour) count, and whether the guy she invites back to her house later “adds to her number.”

“Is he Greek?”

“Greek” can also be replaced with “from here,” done with school,” “driving that,” or “gay”

“Where’d you get that?” “Target, girl.” “OH MY GOD!!!”

You haven’t lived until you listened to two bougie black girls practically orgasm with surprise over a recent purchase one of them made at Target. What makes it even better is the fact that they have the exact same convo with the exact same orgasm of surprise each time at least once a week.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, that’s it for me. Can you think of any more shit that bougie black girls (or guys) say?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

2012 New Year’s Resolutions – The VSB Edition

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Welcome back. Welcome back. Welcome baaaaaaack.

We around the VSB offices hope that you and yours had a most plentiful, restful, and bountiful Christmas and New Year’s. For some of us it was the best of times and it was the worst of times. If you had the worst of times then I feel sorry for your mother. No, that’s not true.

*hug*

As is customary in western society, we (the people) usually come up with resolutions for the new year. We usually call them…New Year’s Resolutions. Granted, very few of us actually follow through on any of them past January 15, but it is nice to ponder a higher conscientiousness and what not. Especially since all of our friends on Love & Hip-Hop are the anti-thesis of higher consciousness. Seriously, I hate everybody on that show with boobs. Kimbella, Yandy, Chrissy (I know y’all love her, I do not), Teirra (how the f*ck do you spell her name? Damn Detroiters), Emily (can somebody clear this up for me – Noxema – is she supposed to be attractive?), blah blah blah…

I’d like to throw a bottle at everybody involved at least once.

Moving on.

Resolutions. I figure that it’s both cliche and positive to resolute some sh*t. Like a desk. I love National Treasure. So here are some resolutions for a G like myself. Beware, some of these may not be your traditional resolutions. Like Omarion told us in 2004, I’m gon’ change…

1. I resolve to never end up dating a woman that would likely end up on a reality television show. I realize that I’m not famous enough to cause a woman I’m seeing to be asked to be on Blogger Boos, but my goal is to make sure that should such a show come to fruition, in 2012, nobody I’m associated with would be asked. Two words and a symbol: Cease & desist. You may think that’s a dumb goal. I’d tell you more, but its too early in the year to go into it.

2. I resolve to go to more clubs where “Round of Applause” is played. Again, might sound retarded but in 2011, I spent a whole lot of time in niche clubs where ignorant music was frowned upon by people wearing hemp, cargo pants, and graphic tees that said “Dilla Saved My Life”. And while that may be true (though the irony is absolutely uncanny), I’ve got to get back to places where Lil Wayne and Jeezy are on the menu. Do you know much my soul yearns to watch an entire club clap in unison when “Round of Applause” comes on? You may not know my pain. But it’s real.

By the way, I honestly think that song should be the Grammy winner for Song of the Millenium.

3. I’ve really got to reduce the number of “you ain’t sh*t” emails I receive. <—- not lying. Of course, I may receive a few merely for writing this as a resolution but hey, you win some you lose some. Can a brotha grow? Then again, that would imply that any of them were warranted. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. I’ll just do better in 2012. Either way, I’m done. I’m tired. I can’t fight no more. I quit. I’ve decided to join a monastery to get my life right.

I didn’t join a monastery.

4. Execute.While murdering a few people here and there might make my liver quiver and my soul shake, I’m actually talking about the game. We have so much good stuff planned for VSB for 2012 I’m almost giddy for the possibilities. But nothing can happen unless we make it pop off ’round here. 2011 was such a monster year for us and the entire VSB community (seriously, y’all are part of all it with us) that its going to be hard to top. But we have no choice. Which is part of the reason I just started this year off like this with the softball resolution post.

We’ve got to put it all on paper so that we can all revisit this post during the course of the year to make sure that we’re on track. Hoes.

Flying coyote.

So, good people of VSB, let’s start off the year with some resolutions. What new year’s resolutions do you want us to hold you accountable for in 2012? Spill it.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

For all the DC heads: Come out to Liv Nightclub this Saturday, January 7, 2012, as VSB x Shine On Me x Just Cause Events bring you 2012′s first installment of Reminisce, the old school hip-hop/r&b party. You partied hard for a fee for NYE, now it’s time to party for free. Free before 11pm ($10 after), open bar from 10-11pm, and no dress code. Come party with Panama Jackson and dance the night away, sweat out your perm lacefront, and celebrate good times. C’mon. Peep the Facebook invite here.

It Was A Very Good Year

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Welcome, VSB nation, to our final post of 2011 — a year that can be summarized in one word: Wow. 

It might take 5,000 words to list each memorable moment, so I’ll just settle for the highlights.

The release of a long-awaited book that garnered overwhelmingly positive reviews from many, including celebrities (well, celebrities to reading ninjas, at least) Helena Andrews…

 “Written by Damon “the Champ” Young and Panama Jackson, the two “very smart brothas” behind the blog of the same name, Your Degrees isn’t the latest literary money pit for pitiful women looking to “find, keep and understand a man.” Instead, the book, which reads more like a “best of” blog series (in a good way), is a case study in new-millennium mating for like-minded folk who live near a metro. The book is playful without being patronizing.”

…and The Artist Formerly Known As Sister Toldja

“The 250-page book has consistently remained on Amazon’s top-100 for both love/sex and humor titles since its release at the end of January…and for good reason! It’s a genuinely entertaining read. Though they’re both men, Panama and The Champ (the first Pittburgian…Pittsburger(?) that I ever knew outside of an August Wilson play) do a fantastic job at not throwing women under the bus, nor attempting to make too many excuses for guys when it comes to the behaviors that make the dating game a tough one to play.”

(Hint, Hint: “Your Degrees Won’t Keep You Warm At Night” would make for a great stocking stuffer. Humor, wisdom, and rachetness all in one cheap package. What more can you ask for?) 

The first annual National VSB Day — officially recognized now as February 10th of every year — an event where hundreds of fans of VSB gathered in various cites across the nation (Pittsburgh, D.C., Atlanta, Chicago, Houston, New York City, Oakland/Bay Area, Los Angeles, Dallas, and Miami/South Florida) to meet, greet, and celebrate VerySmartness.

“Three Deez” — The VSB Three Year Anniversary Party and Book Signing — an event that took place on April 2nd, drew over 500 folks (Including numerous VSB veterans. Don’t even want to bother naming who all showed up because I don’t want to forget anyone, but lets just be safe and say that every f*cking body was there) and was notable for three reasons.

1. It marked the first time that Panama and I met in person. (Also was the first and only time that all three of us — Panama, Liz, and I — have ever been at the same place at the same time)

2. It managed to get VSB and SBM together for a picture…

…an instance that will surely be our version of the famous “Pac and Biggie when they were still cool” pic when VH1 does their “Behind The Music” special on black male bloggers in 2021. (If I had to guess, the segment will probably start off with a narrator saying “Everything was great…until that one fateful night in 2016 when Panama and Slim Jackson (no relation) decided on a whim to rob that Uni-Mart…”)
3. It produced this totally awesome video.

Panama appeared on The Ed Gordon show, and was a featured panelist at the Princeton University’s Hip-Hop: Arts & Life Symposium.

I had spots on the Michael Baisden Show and The Michael Eric Dyson Show, and was a featured panelist at Blogalicious 2011.

We were featured by The Washington Post, interviewed by The Root, named on The Root’s list of 30 Black Bloggers You Should Know, interviewed by Essence, profiled by Black Enterprise, and spotlighted by Edge Magazine. 

We won a record FIVE Black Weblog Awards — (Blog of The Year, Best Writing In a Blog, Best Humor Blog, Best Dating and Relationship Blog, and Best Blog Duo)

We were named on Ebony Magazine’s Annual Power 100 List

(Also, I haven’t seen it yet, but apparently we’re in this week’s Jet Magazine. Kelly Rowland should be on the cover.)

Panama, Liz, and I also continued to spread our wings to other parts of the internet. Editor gigs, writing contracts, featured columns, and Liz even managed to executive produce a series about women exactly like her.

Now, I can’t speak too much about our plans for 2012 yet, but I will say two things…

1. VSB will open the new year with a few, um, changes. I can’t tell you exactly what’s going to happen, but things will be very different around here. Don’t worry, though. These are good changes. (Well, we think they’re good changes, but that remains to be seen)

2.  You know how jaw-dropping it can be to see your favorite book on screen? Well, if “Your Degrees Won’t Keep You Warm At Night” is your favorite book, prepare to have your jaw-dropped in 2012.

None of this — the book, the awards, the recognition, our plans — would have been possible without VSB nation, and trust me when I say that we’re honored and humbled by your continued support. It’s completely amazing to think of how far we’ve come (and how much further we plan to go), and you’ve been there with us every step of the way. We are forever indebted to you, and we sincerely wish each of you a safe and happy holiday season.

See you in 2012

—The Champ