Category Archives: lists

(More)Things That Men Struggle To Understand That Women Do

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I will wash my ass with this soap.

This ain’t funny so don’t you dare laugh, but some men just don’t understand some things that women do. I’m fairly sure I’ve written about this before. I’m also fairly sure that I can’t find the post where I may have done so. So I’m adding to it based on new convos with new ninjas. And this isn’t one of those #womenarecrazy tirades that us menfolks are becoming so famous for. Nope. This is more of a “y’all do this and I truly don’t get it” things. Generalization alert swag.

Generalize deez. Which I’m fairly sure is both a pun AND a possible title for the new movie coming out directed by Spike Lee and written by Tyler Perry and T.D. Jakes. That sh*t cray.

So, back to the lecture at hand. Over the course of my life, I’ve spent a significant amount of time around many many womens. From my various sisters (real spit, I’ve got a lot of sisters, we’re damn near Mormon), to the women I’ve dated, to the daughter that I’m raising that will grow into a woman, I’ve borne witness to many a thing that I just couldn’t quite make sense of. Some of those things that I couldn’t quite make sense of has gotten me in trouble since, well, if I don’t understand it, then I’m inclined not to respect is gangsta and either…you know what…let’s dive in.

LOUGANIS! <—-old school reference like a motherf*cker.

1. Decorative…anything

Pillows. Soap. Bathroom towels. I HATE decorative pillows. Actually, I hate EXCESSIVE amounts of decorative pillows. And it seems that you can only have excessive amounts of decorative pillows. Especially on beds. Why the f*ck does ANYBODY need 15 pillows on a bed. THAT NOBODY WILL SEE BECAUSE NOBODY IS ALLOWED IN THE GROWN FOLKS BEDROOM ANYWAY? Don’t even get me started on decorative soap. Actually, let’s start.

I will use your decorative soap. It’s almost my defiant rebellion against your damn soap that just wants to be used. It’s soap. It needs to be used in order to be validated as soap. If a stripper never claps her ass, is she a stripper? If soap never gets a sud, is it soap? I say no. It’s just a block of glycerin that’s getting laughed at by the Zest and other soaps in the bathroom. Same goes with your monogrammed decorative towels.

Moral of the story: don’t let me use the bathroom with the “nice” sh*t in it.

2. Poofs

I’m talking about those spa shower poof things. Full disclosure: I bought one because 1) a guy I fully respect has one and I figured that if its good enough for that ninja its good enough for me..respect; and 2) I wanted to see what the big deal was with a damn poof. Every woman has one. And I’ve realized that they make no functional sense.

WhatyoutalkinboutPanama?

Glad you asked.

Question: how does one wash their ass if all you use in the shower is your poof? You can’t tell me that you use the poof in your ass and then put it on your face the next go ’round? That’s why ninjas like me wash their washclothes daily. I stay with a stockpile of washclothes for this purpose. But explain to me the poof? I need to know.

I NEED TO KNOW!!

3. Lotion regimens

I’ve brought this up before and even wrote a whole post about it that I’m too lazy to go find, but what is the damn deal with so many lotions and sh*t. (I came in the door) I said it before that I use Palmer’s all day. And I’ve been told that its too heavy for summer time. Yet my skin roars baby. It glistens. And yes those last two sentences are likely 86% gay. But its true. Y’all skin ain’t that much different and the bottoms of many of y’allsis feet STILL could light matches. So what gives with the various regimens that don’t solve whatever problem you’re trying to solve.

I’m on my man sh*t. I need to unnadig.

4. Constant clothes jacking

I could write (and probably will) a whole post about the serious advantages to dating for women and this will make the list: whyfore come y’all STAY stealing our clothes? Look, I get it. You all want our tshirts. One? That makes sense. Two. Okay…you’re getting a little klepto on me but still, I can deal. But when you all clear out our undershirts and we have to go to buy 8-packs for 19.99 of tshirts JUST to have some to wear, well that’s going to f*cking far. What’s up with the outright disrespect for our need to have stuff like wifebeaters (though there ain’t a man alive that doesn’t like seeing a woman in a wifebeater) and tshirts? Why is it that the longer I know you, the less of these things that I have??? This has been consistent since I was 18. What gives womanthieves!?!?!??!?!?

So, ladies…I want answers. Fellas what else do you want to know? And ladies, any questions of us?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. DO YOU MIND IF I LOTION YOU UP? aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

 

“Light-Skinned Points,” “Accent Points,” And More “Points” That Make People Seem Much More Attractive Than They Really Should Be

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Still a bit confused on how this whole points thing works

***This is a revised version of an entry that originally posted three years ago. Enjoy***

In August of 2008, Panama blessed the VSB pulpit with “wlsg,” an entry which provided a definition for “light skinned points”

Light-skinned point(s). noun. 1) the additional attention that fairer skinned light skinned women receive over their darker-skinneded sisters whether or not their face actually warrants any attention at all. 2) the assumed increase in attractiveness laid before melanin deficient black women whether or not their face actually warrants any attention at all.

***For those still unclear about what this means, just think Evelyn Lozada.***

Yet, although this term gets the most mileage, it’s far from the only time black people assign “Points” —  the possession of an attribute or characteristic that makes a person seem much, much, more desirable than they really should be.

Here are 10 more.

1. Dark-Skinned Black Male Points

Single-handedly responsible for the popularity of Wesley Snipes, Taye Diggs, and at least two of them 112 n*ggas.

2. “She looks good for her age” Points

A few years ago, I had a 40-something colleague who all of the older (and younger) male teachers were sweating, as well as a few of the students, who’d always remark “Damn. if she looks like that now, imagine how fine she was at 25″. I agreed, until I saw a 20 year old yearbook picture of her, and was shocked to see that she looked exactly the same. At 25, she looked like a really good looking 47 year old.

3. Poet Points

I originally was going to just make it “Black Male Poet Points” until I remembered that female poets and spoken word performers have their audiences in a certain trance as well. Seriously, if you’re a Black spoken word artist and you still can’t get any kind of romantic rhythm, maybe sex with live humans just isn’t in the cards for you now, or ever

4. Big, ummmm, “Ego” Points

Put it this way: There’s a reason why at least 7 percent of the cats in every hood have never bothered to get driver’s licenses

5. “Good” hair Points

For many black men, the allure of the “good” hair is just as strong if not stronger than the light skinneded points. Seriously, I’ve seen n*ggas do back flips for minotaurs in pumas just because they could imagine playing in their hair

6. “Thick for a White girl” Points

For those who doubt the power of thick for a white girl points, ask any 28 to 40 year old brotha if he’s ever had a prolonged fantasy about big-bootied and strong-faceded Jenny Von Oy.

7. Black Male Blogger Points

Um, moving on…

8. “Shes a well-adjusted freak” Points

Because of the peculiar mammy/madonna/whore complex that affects how the Black community regards our women, orgasmic women who don’t sleep around but actually get great pleasure out of having jungle monkey matrix sex (and aren’t the least bit shy about admitting it) are at a premium, even if looks wise they happen to be more John Kerry than Kerry Washington.

9. Black guy who only dates Black women Points

Um, moving on again…

10. Foreign accent Points

N*ggas love nan’s (non-American nigg*s) with “exotic” accents more than midgets love Ikea. Seriously, if you’re a Black man or Black woman who’s having trouble dating, just barricade yourself in your apartment with tapes of Hugh Grant or Penelope Cruz for a month and practice sounding exactly like them.

That’s it for now.

People of VSB.com, did I miss anything?

Are there any other “points” out there that you’ve seen successfully affect someone’s desirability? Also, do you personally possess any “points” and, have you ever been “influenced” by an otherwise unattractive point haver?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

“Why Won’t Kevin Durant Brush His Hair?”…And More Questions That Need Answered Right. Now.

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Kevin Durant, making his own personal protest for not winning MVP

Earlier in the week, I joked that a degree in Black Studies is about as useless as thumbs on a roach. Now, I obviously wasn’t serious — I wouldn’t be arrogant enough to dismiss an entire field of study (I’ll let Naomi Riley do that) — but I do think that the Black Studies’ curriculum offered at most universities should expand their horizons a bit and include some things we really, really, really need to get to the bottom of, including…

Why won’t Kevin Durant brush his hair?¹

Is it a silent protest for not winning MVP? Do his naps give him power the same way Rick Ross gets his from his areolas? Did he lose a bet with a genie? Is he allergic to brush bristles? Is he actually just the grown up version of Dookie from “The Wire?” Are him and Russell Westbrook having a year-long contest to “out nerd” each other?

Seriously, I’m actually more interested in why Kevin Durant — a man who happens to be the second best basketball player on Earth — has apparently never brushed his hair than I am in any current unsolved mystery, including who really shot JFK, what the hell happened to Lark Voorhies, and what do vegans eat to make their farts smell like the tree frog from “Pan’s Labyrinth?”

Who invented the booty clap?

Look, while I have an active YouTube account, I’m no expert on bootyology. Despite this, I know that ratchet women weren’t clapping their ass cheeks together 15 years ago the way they all seem to be able to now. (Btw, the only way that link is safe for work is if you happen to work at Waffle House)

I concede the possibility that, 15 years ago, I just wasn’t in the type of circles where ass clapping was frequent, but I doubt this to be true. I get the feeling that if there was ass clapping to be found 15 years ago, I would have found it. I have a nose for ass.

Anyway, since all evidence points to the fact that it’s a recent invention, I’m curious to find out who the hell invented it. Very curious. In fact, I’d greatly appreciate it if somehow could put me in contact with her so I can, um, contact her for an interview.

How did we allow a typical hoodrat Puerto Rican from the Bronx become the most popular character on “Black” TV and the symbol for all that’s wrong with Black women?

Clutch’s Kirsten West Savali already touched on this subject much more thoroughly than I plan to, but really Black America? We have a show created by, catering to, and featuring Black women at their most ratchet, and we allowed a Puerto Rican from the Bronx — the freakin Bronx!!! — to hijack it? What’s up with that? 

(Oh, and for those who want to claim that some African ancestry makes her Black, I’m not claiming her ass. I just barely got over the fact that we need to claim Allen West. There’s no way I’m making room at the table for Evelyn too)

Did anyone ever find Toure’s cousin?

A couple years ago, Toure’ — the world’s newest negro ever invented — caught a bit of heat for suggesting that slaves occasionally seduced their masters. When the heat got too hot, he blamed his cousin for hacking into his Twitter account and making those remarks.

It’s been two years since this occurred, and not only has there still been no sign of this cousin, it seems as if we’ve just stopped searching for him. Perhaps he’s hiding in Kevin Durant’s hair.

Anyway, that’s it for me today. Can you think of any other pressing questions/mysteries that we need to get to the bottom of? Also, if anyone has any answers to any of my questions, please let me know.

¹Why do I get the feeling that the real answer to this question is on some uber-sad “He doesn’t brush his hair because he wants to honor the memory of his dead uncle, who was killed while only carrying a hairbrush”-type shit?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

***Btw, we’re still receiving submissions for Very Smart Singles, but there’s something I wanted to make clear. While it’s true that each single will get a post devoted to them when we publish the profiles, comments will be closed. I repeat, comments will be closed.  While people here generally behave themselves, I wouldn’t let a person put themselves out there to get critiqued and pick apart. People interested in the single will have to email us at contact@verysmartbrothas.com***

The One About Self-Awareness.

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I see PRIDE! I see POWER! I SEE A BAD ASS MUDDA WHO DON'T TAKE NO CRAP OFFA NOBODY!!!!

I remember the first time I heard the theory that people are more intimately familiar with who they think they are than who they actually are. Okay, that’s not true at all. I don’t remember when I first heard it, but I do know that when I heard it I immediately said to myself, “self, that’s true”. It makes sense if you think about it. We spend so much time thinking about who we want to be and how we think we come across that reality is like getting slapped in the face with one of Aretha’s areolas, your two ho’s, and a bottle of rum.

With that in mind, over the course of time I’ve come to some conclusions about myself based on what I thought I wanted or who I thought I was and how reality is playing itself out. Some way down like where the signifying monkey used to hang out. Others more shallow than Kim Kardashian in a kiddie pool kickin’ it with two koalas on Koval.

Allons-y.

I thought I wanted to be one of those folks who likes to have deep conversations. It turns out that I want to be one of the people who has deep conversations about ignorant sh*t.

You know Savon from Love Jones? Yeah, I want to be him, except talking about thongs and the importance of Puffy to the fabric of society. But I SO want there to be a drum present. When I buy a house, one of the first things I’m doing is going drum shopping so I can have a truly Black household. All convos will include the drum. I want to talk about how Kool-Aid is truly the key to life and pop culture. I don’t want to talk about important things unless I feel like it. And only on special occasions…like when white people are present. Or in front of Barack Obama, though I’m fairly certain I’d probably talk a little ignant around Obama. The man sings Al Green songs for cripe’s sake. He cool.

I thought I wanted to date women with big hair who had the big hair angst and social justice guilt and conscience who were artsy and blah blah blah. It turns out I just like big hair.

Seems that I couldn’t care about their activism. I just like big hair. Hell, I might actually prefer big haired bougie women. The type with big hair and Coach bags who are as superficial as chicks with perms. I just wanna lay in their hair without the guilt of recycling. Basically, while I love Freddie from A Different World, I’m sure she would have gotten on my last damn nerves when I told her that I thought “Rack City” was empowering to women.

I thought that because I’m a writer and a rapper and an author and talker and because I communicate often I was a good communicator. It turns out that’s not true.

So, despite my uber sharing ass nature, in intimate settings, I can be quite walled off and anti-vulnerable. How’s that for some sh*t that makes no sense. I’m like the Great Communicator Of Useless Information When It Matters Least. I’m Alex Trebek for Dummies. For Relationships.

I thought that majority of my relationships ended because of compatibility issues. It turns out that most of them probably stem from that little communication problem I just shared a few lines ago. No coca-ina.

Now that’s not to say that every relationship that ended didn’t need to end, they probably did. But my inability to communicate properly was probably as culpable for the beginning of the end as any compatibility issue or constant nuisance that I either created or initially found cute but eventually found grating.

I thought that I was one of the few mixed kids who didn’t have an identity issues. It turns out that I do.

Yeah, I can’t decide if I f*ckin’ rock or if I’m f*ckin’ awesome. It’s a conflict that only people of my pedigree can fully appreciate. It’s hard out here for an cool mulatto. Or a culatto.

I often thought that because I was enlightened that I was above certain negativitisms. Turns out my enlightenment helps to inform my ignorance.

This woman cut me off in traffic today. I didn’t call her a b*tch while shaking my fist in my car behind my glass windows. Nope, I called her a wench. Mostly because I like the word and second because I thought calling a woman a b*tch because she’s a woman who pissed me off would make me like every other ignorant man. So wench it was, which I’m fairly certain achieves the EXACT same end as the b-word. I felt bad. But if I didn’t read, I don’t think I’d know the w-word either. Damn you education system for teaching me how to get around general use pejoratives for learned ones! I definitely call ni**as the n-word though.

Anyway, those are some of my self-awarenesses. Sharing is caring people. What you got?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. STEAL YOUR CURL aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Real-Life Relationships You’ll Never, Ever, Ever, Ever See In A Movie

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"Why are you smiling?" "Just thinking about how lucky you are that I like your cologne."

I’m generally a fan of things Jason Segel has a hand in — “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” “Knocked Up,” etc — so it didn’t take much convincing for me to go see “The Five-Year Engagement” a few days ago. Without giving any spoilers, I’ll say that I enjoyed it but was somewhat disappointed by the fact that it started to veer into “Whoa. I’ve never seen this relationship situation really addressed in a movie before“ territory — which I greatly appreciated — but then got a bit more Hollywood towards the end.

Now, I understand why movies do tend to inch toward the “Hollywood relationship.” Although we bitch and clamor for realism, we still do generally want to be entertained and feel good at the end, and showing certain types of “real-life” relationships might cause people to enter the theater with buckets of hot buttered Zoloft instead of popcorn.

With this in mind, here are four types of real-life relationships you’ll probably never actually see in a movie

1. The man with the life-long side piece

In one of the most baffling types of real-life arrangements in existence, there are men who  have started and ended multiple relationships but managed to maintain the exact same side chick throughout each one. I guess it makes sense — comfort and consistency are, frankly, the shit — but if that isn’t the most ambitious-less, Everest College-ass relationship shit I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.

2. The f*ck buddies who don’t even really like f*cking each other

A couple years ago, a friend told me about an arrangement she had with a guy who’d come through once a week, have a couple glasses of moscato with her, and then would proceed to have terrible, awful, unbearably awkward sex with her. They both hated it — apparently he once fell asleep while she was on top of him, woke up, gave a couple more pumps, and fell back asleep — but this “relationship” continued for a couple months.

Thinking that this friend was an just a sad anomaly of coital despair, I told the story to another friend, who expressed that she also was in a similar arrangement — a full NBA season (seven months) of awful sex. When I asked her why she continued a friends with migrant worker benefits arrangement, she replied “I don’t know. I guess I just liked the way he smelled.”

3. The people only dating because…wait, why the hell are they dating again?

I was actually in a relationship like this a few years ago. We didn’t really like each other all that much, we both knew it wasn’t going to last longer than a year, and, well, did I mention the fact that we didn’t really like each other all that much?

I guess you can say that we stayed together because of the sex, but is it really worth staying in a relationship where both parties give each other a 5.5 to on the “10 point Like Scale” just because you’re sleeping with them four times a week?

It ended after exactly one year, which was maybe 11 months too long.

4. The people who’ve always pined for each other…but die without ever actually getting together

In the movies, these situations usually get resolved with some contrived-ass deferred meet cute that puts them in a situation where they have no choice but to realize that they need to be together.

In real life, though, sometimes these people continue to see each other in passing and at parties and continue to wonder and fantasize, but never actually hook-up — a situation as sad as the thought of Derrick Rose proctoring a PSAT. (Too soon?)

Anyway, people of VSB, can you think of any other types of relationships you’ll never see on screen? Also, if anyone out there has actually been in one of the type of relationships described today, come to #REMINISCEDC Saturday night and either I or Panama will give you a hug (if you’re a woman) or a shot (if you’re a man). Actually, f*ck it. Hugs and shots for everyone!

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)