What a difference a month makes

As any NFL fan (and most New Yorkers) undoubtedly know, there’s an annual ritual that occurs somewhere between the 3rd and 8th weeks of the NFL season each year. The New York Giants will be struggling, a few anonymous sources from the team will leak quotes to the media about how much the entire team hates head coach Tom Coughlin, and a few prominent beat writers and reporters will pen articles about how the team has tired of Coughlin’s rigid ways and that it’s time to make a change.¹

Seriously, if you were to look up the term “hot seat” in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of a red-faced and exasperated Coughlin in the middle of the same exaggerated head shake/eye roll combo an assistant principal at a high school would make after hearing that the gym locker room toilets were clogged again.

He’s never won (and never will win) coach of the year. Whenever Sports Illustrated or ESPN.com does one of those anonymous player surveys, he’s always the choice as “the coach I’d least like to play for.” He’s not regarded as an evil genius like Bill Belichick, a guru like Jon Gruden, a master motivator/player’s coach like Mike Tomlin or Pete Carroll, or even an “old guy whose best days are behind him but still has something in the tank” like (the extremely overrated) Mike Shanahan. He is actually a stereotypically bad assistant principal — a micro-manager whose obsession with mind-numbing routine and authoritarianism ends up undermining the power he already has².

But, as of Sunday night, Coughlin is the head coach of two Super Bowl champions, a feat matched by few others. A man many wouldn’t consider a great (or even good) NFL coach has twice bested the man thought of as the best football coach of his generation.

Today, the Coughlin narrative is that he’s an underappreciated motivator and technician. The end results (two championships) have justified any means, and 50 years from now, no one will remember that he came within a hair of getting fired every year. All they’ll see is “Tom Coughlin = two-time Super Bowl champion” and they’ll assume that he was a great coach.

Now, there’s an obvious parallel between coaching and parenting (and teaching, even), and I brought up Tom Coughlin’s career because it ties directly into a question I’ve always had about parenting.

What exactly makes a “good” or “great” parent?

This seems like it should be an easy question to answer. A good parent is a selfless individual who loves their children unconditionally, stops at nothing to provide for and protect them, teaches them whatever needs taught, and models good behavior.

But, if the ultimate goal of a parent is to make sure their offspring are productive, capable, and well-adjusted members of society, what’s to make of “good” parents who were, to put it bluntly, failures?

How do you gauge the parental merits of loving, selfless, and upstanding individuals who’ve raised kids who grew up to be liars, deadbeats, thieves, rapists, murders, and Laker fans? Would you consider a parent “good” if they were successful and happy and well-adjusted, but their children were the exact opposite?

Perhaps, like a “good” coach who just wasn’t able to find a way to motivate his team, maybe a good parent with sh*tty offspring has all the proper parental tools but just didn’t apply them properly…making them bad at being a parent

On the flipside, what do you make of people who’ve managed to succeed in spite of what looked to be lackluster and/or deficient parenting? The man who’s managed to become a renowned surgeon despite his overbearing and still hard to please alcoholic father? The woman who never received a single compliment from her ruthless and manipulative mother but ended up being a caring, successful, and well-adjusted lawyer and mom herself? The kid from the projects who, after seeing how heroin tore apart his family, got a PhD. in neuroscience to study addiction and help make sure what happened to his family doesn’t happen to any others?

On the surface, no one would say that any of these people had good parents, but you can’t deny the fact that their relationships with their parents helped motivate and inspire them to become who they are today. Again, if parental merits depend on the offspring you send out into the world, the “sh*tty” parents definitely succeeded. Perhaps these parents, bad as they may have seemed, were only doing what they thought it took to ensure their children’s success as adults.

And, just as you probably won’t hear any Giants complain about Coughlin’s rigidity or out-of-touchness today, you’re probably not going to hear any of the people from the last paragraph complain too much about how they were raised.

If the Giants don’t make the playoffs this year, Coughlin gets fired. Now, though, each of his negative characteristics become pluses through euphemism. (i.e.: “he’s a micro-manager” turns into “he’s steadfastly committed to excellence”)

If these people don’t turn out successful, the drunk dad is an asshole, the manipulative mom is a bitch, and the kid with the addicts in his family just had too much on his plate to overcome. If successful, though, the asshole dad becomes “a guy who believed in tough love,” the bitchy mom is just a “perfectionist who wanted the best for me,” and the kids from the projects reflects on all the sacrifices his people made to help him make it.

I guess I’m trying to say that whether a person is a good parent or not is completely arbitrary, completely variable, and completely dependent on the quality of kid they produce. But, to be honest, I don’t even really believe that. A part of me still thinks that, despite what I’ve tried to prove today, good parenting is like pornography — you can’t really define it, but you know it when you see it. 

Hmm. I forget which Gladwell book it was (actually, it might have been “Freakonomics.” I really have no idea), but I remember a passage in it that basically stated that the best parenting is done before a kid is even born. The genes you pass on to him and the financial situation he’s born in do waaaaay more to help (or hurt) him succeed than anything you can do as a parent.

If this is true, perhaps coaching and parenting are more intertwined than I thought. As any Giants fan will surely tell you today, “good coach” is just another way of saying “he was lucky enough to have some good ass players.”

¹There’s an article at Slate.com that goes much more in-depth on this “ritual.” I remember reading it there, and I know it’s somewhere in here, but I couldn’t find it yesterday.

 

²No shots at any assistant principals reading this

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

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

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Sometimes you just feel like a white guy with black outlines.

You ever come across a story or an article that throws you for such a loop that you don’t know which way is up? Or you can’t tell left from right? That was me this morning when my boy forwarded me an article entitled: Dallas teen missing since 2010 was mistakenly deported. <—please read that and watch the video

Now my first inclination was to be pissed at the government (damn you Obama!) for being so damn inept that they’d actually manage to pull this off. Not only that, they managed to send a 15-year-old teenager to Colombia because they effectively didn’t verify her fingerprints to find out who she really was.

But something just didn’t sit right with me on this one. Then I realized that NONE of it made any sense. It created so many questions in my mind I had to take a small chronic break because ninjas be brownnosing these h…well you get my point.

So let’s just start at the beginning of this f*cktasticness. Mmkay? Mmkay.

Fourteen year old Jakadrien Turner runs away from home in November 2010 after being distraught over her parents divorce and her grandfather’s passing. And ends up in Houston. Okay. Plausible. Runaways do runaway sh*t and end up in cities they aren’t from. Why Houston? I have no clue and apparently neither does her family. However that’s where she went, got popped by police gives a fake name that comes up on Immigration and Custom Enforcement’s radar (ICE) and ends up in motherf*cking Colombia because ICE are some inept f*cks. That’s the gist.

But wait…she either gets forced into a work camp or something (highly unlikely) or finds a job (still highly unlikely but more likely when considering that….). I’m guessing she found a job because if your ass is stuck in some kind of work camp…you ain’t updating Facebook. And if she’s updating Facebook, is she searching for help or just, ya know, updating Facebook. Changing her status and liking ninjas pages and whatnot (at press time she had not liked VSB’s fan page).

The thing that puzzles me about this news report and article is that it never states what ELSE these ninjas were doing to find her? Did her parents (divorced, not dead) and grandmother just figure she’d be back at some point and let that sh*t ride for a year and some change? Wasn’t nobody ridin’ ’round and gettin’ it anywhere? Am I to truly believe that this ninja didn’t update her FB page UNTIL she got to Colombia? That just doesn’t seem likely now does it?

I have a kid. You better believe that my arse is going to be ALL over the place on this one. I know Noriega. The real Noriega. He owes me a hundred favors and one of them would be to find my kid.

Let’s shift to the government for a moment, shall we? Lawd lawd lawd. Why for come you suck so much? So Jakadrien gets fingerprinted and then they never verify her identity? Of a teenager? Yeah she lied about her name. Speaking of that, how gotdamn unlucky do you have to be to hit the Colombia deportation lottery on picking a name? Sheesh. Here’s the bullsh*t. You do not get deported literally 10 minutes after you get busted. Nothing happens that quick. This was sheer ignorance and all around don’t-give-a-f*ck-ness at play. She says she’s such-n-such and we got a warrant. Put her on a plane, boss. Those prints came back and nobody looked at it. Fire everybody. Literally.

But then we get to Colombia. Somehow, she has the wherewithall to work and survive in Colombia and be in a good enough space to update her FB page? Her grandmother never said that her page was filled with pleas for help. I know kids say the darndest things these days but damn, there’s resourceful and then there’s the chick from Colombiana. Hmm…pun.

I’m still questioning the sheer validity of this article. Real spit. The missing report is real. I sawed that online. But if our government is actually deporting Americans…accidentally…why for come this isn’t national news. Thus far only this Dallas news station is reporting it and a slew of other folks on random ninja sites and some article on Clutch that did a slightly ratchet job of just recreating the Dallas story.

Apparently she’s in a detention center, pregnant, and the Colombian government won’t release her. Again…how come this ain’t on CNN. Or the Washington Post. Or the New York Times. Isn’t this kind of a big deal?

Like, in the pantheon of big damn deals, wouldn’t “U.S. Government deports one of its own to Colombia” kind of a game changer? It’s just me? No?

My people…what am I missing? Does this story strike you as odd as it strikes me?

Hell, do you even believe this?

Talk to me.

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

Peep Panama’s latest post over at Guyspeak: 50 Things I’d Rather Do Than Remove My Mother’s NuvaRing.

Beware, there are a lot of strong faces in this picture.

You know how women tend to map out their weddings? Even the most hardened, thugged out, stabbin’ ninja woman has some vision of her wedding. And the proposal? Yeah, they all have an idea of what they’d like it to look like. Sure reality and fantasy may never collide but the idea, the hope, is always there. And I’d bet double or nothing that Chrissy’s ideal proposal looked nothing like the pisspoor one that Jim Jones gave to her on the last episode of vh1′s academic and rigorously brain teasing show, Love & Hip-Hop.

If you know Black people. There’s a solid chance that 78.5% of them all watch Love & Hip-Hop every Monday night. That number includes 100% of video hoes as they all view the show as comeup central.

I’m half surprised that Jim didn’t just throw the box at her and say, “gotcha b*tch. Happy now?” I’m being hyperbolic but he didn’t even kneel down. And he tried to play this cool, detached, somewhat pissed role cum captain save-a-ho at the end with the sweet gangsta thing that went terribly wrong. And do you know why? It’s impossible to be hardcore when proposing to a woman. It’s one of the moments in a man’s life when he’s truly vulnerable. It’s like putting up a Christmas tree. It is completely ungangsta to put up a Christmas tree. You ever seen a jolly thug? Some random ninja with a Santa hat and a .45 tucked into his waistband while laying tinsel every so gently on a fir? Smiling? While sipping on some eggnog and eating oatmeal raisin cookies? Exactly. Let the thug go. Jimmy…couldn’t do it. He basically handed her a box, said “do you want to marry me?” and then feel proud of himself for giving her what she wanted. Except the whole time he didn’t even really look like he wanted to be there.

Except…she didn’t care because she’s been waiting for that ring for some seven years so she was just happy to get it. Except now what? Except, right. Which begs the question here, does the proposal matter that much?

I’m only asking because if you’ve been waiting for seven years (or three or four, or whenever she proposed to him) to the point that you keep grandstanding, talking about leaving and having your oddlyfaced friends help you pack up stuff from a house that you really don’t want to leave with a life you don’t want to give up, do you even care how he does it? Or are you just happy that he does it. And I’m inclined to believe that Jimmy wasn’t trying to give a dbag proposal. He just didn’t know how to pull off thugged out and vulnerable man at the same time. And real talk, calling it a dbag proposal might be overstating.

Which brings me to some more overstatements: Love & Hip-Hop is one ridiculous ass show. So Jim Jones proposal makes perfect sense. We have one of the most unattractive attractive women on the planet in Emily, a woman who’s been chasing Fabolous since before he could misspell it seems. And she just can’t get it right. Then there’s Olivia. Bless her heart. You may remember her…actually,  you probably don’t remember her at all. First she tried to get us to “Bizzounce” years ago and we didn’t. Then 50 Cent tried to convince us that she had star power…DURING HIS HEYDAY. Think about that. Even when 50 Cent was on TOP of the game he couldn’t convince us to care about her.

This from a man who made Tony Yayo relevant. Again, think about that. Kimbella, oh Kimbella. I’m sure she’s hot. I’m sure I don’t find her hot. Maybe its because she annoys me so much. Though not as much as Teairra Mari who for the life of me has contributed nothing to the world aside from a great rack and the song “Sponsor” featuring Gucci Mane, which, I actually loved. But on this show…pointless.

Yandy? She mildly amuses me but only because she’s just somebody else who latched on to the Jim Jones bandwagon. Nancy, love her. But I tend to like crackheads. And then there’s Chrissy.

I cannot stand her. Many women I know love her no-nonsense attitude….except when it comes to Jimmy. Honestly, if it wasn’t for all of her instigating and fighting, I’d hate her more. But alas, she keeps bringing the gun to the knifefight so she does possess value.

Look, the show blows. There’s too much boohooing over men that don’t want them and then too many talentless women attempting to be somebody in the world. There’s really no reason for this show to exist.

But at the end of the day, Love & Hip-Hop makes me realize that despite the fact that I’m not rich, apparently me and Jim Jones could live in the same neighborhood since there seem to be a plethora of tiny ass houses right next door to him. (Seriously, did homeboy have his house built in a neighborhood full of 2 bedroom homes?) The problems that these broads have are not unlike everybody else’s problems except they’re potentially more ridiculous because all of their fame is due to the men they’re associated with. I find it so interesting how many women love these shows considering how they fly in the face of nearly everything women get so pissed at men for saying.

These women are the living embodiment of a Tyler Perry movie without a script but women tune in every Monday with reckless abandon. THEN talk sh*t about the terrible Tyler Perry movies and how they do a disservice to women everywhere. Okay. Alright.

What’s the draw? I don’t know. But the next time any of y’all who love these shows tell me Tyler Perry is selling us out…I’m going to throw my show at you or one of those bottles Kimbella threw at Erica Mena. And then I’ll have Chrissy yank your lacefront.

So real talk…why the hell do people love these shows so much? Don’t tell me the drama…it can’t be that simple? And speaking of the proposal to Chrissy, does it matter or is the fact that it happens that much more significant in general?

Talk to me…what’s with the love for Love & Hip-Hop?

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

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.

You are not a lone. MJ. RIP.

Like the majority of people in most major cities, everybody is looking for a worthwhile time for New Year’s Eve. And that would usually be easy to find except everybody wants to charge you $50 to $100 JUST to enter the building they’re having a party in. I’ve paid that much before. Blow.Er.

Enter NYE ON U STREET!

Brought to you by a string of promoters responsible for various entertaining and successful parties around the city (including VSB),  NYE on U Street is your option for entertainment on the low-low this Saturday, December 31st, 2011.

Happening at the Bohemian Caverns complex on U Street from 9pm-4am, you will be able to traverse the entire building (Bohemian Caverns, Tap & Parlour, Liv Nightclub) and find different vibes and entertainment in each locale. There will be live music on one floor, and DJ’s spinning reggae/soca on another floor, and hip-hop/R&B on the top two floors in Liv Nightclub.

And then there’s the cost.

All tickets are $30 in advance…bu-bu-bu-but wait its gets…BETTER??

If you buy 5 or more tickets as a unit for you and your friends, the price drops to $25 per ticket.

Bu-bu-bu-but wait it gets…BETTER???

If you and your friends get together and get 10 tickets, its $20 per person.

Seriously, aside from a house party, when was the last time you ever paid $20 for a New Year’s Eve party and Abraham Lincoln wasn’t throwing it?

So quit bojangling, NYE is on Saturday. Go to the provided link, check the details and then buy you some tickets for you and your peoples and bring in the New Year the right way…with all of your friends and loved ones.

Click here for tickets: http://www.eventbrite.com/event/2684871523/verysmartbrothas/246018156

Happy New Year everybody. From your Panama, Champ, and Liz. Stay safe VSB.

-VSB P

You see, my pal Mike, cannot take a hint. He does, however, have a LOT of time on his hands and a lot of issues he needs to resolve. He exists so that we may learn what being as emo as possible really looks like. Take heed, fellas, this is EXACTLY what you shouldn’t ever do if you don’t get what you want. Write a whole post about it? Nope. Just reprint the letter in case you haven’t seen it. Yep. I couldn’t do this justice anyway. VSB, enjoy.

By the way, it’s long. And yes, that’s what she said.

Hi Lauren,

I’m disappointed in you. I’m disappointed that I haven’t gotten a response to my voicemail and text messages.
FYI, I suggest that you keep in mind that emails sound more impersonal, harsher, and are easier to misinterpret than in-person or phone communication. After all, people can’t see someone’s body language or tone of voice in an email. I’m not trying to be harsh, patronizing, or insulting in this email. I’m honest and direct by nature, and I’m going to be that way in this email. By the way, I did a google search, so that’s how I came across your email.

I assume that you no longer want to go out with me. (If you do want to go out with me, then you should let me know.) I suggest that you make a sincere apology to me for giving me mixed signals. I feel led on by you.

Things that happened during our date include, but are not limited to, the following:

-You played with your hair a lot. A woman playing with her hair is a common sign of flirtation. You can even do a google search on it. When a woman plays with her hair, she is preening. I’ve never had a date where a woman played with her hair as much as you did. In addition, it didn’t look like you were playing with your hair out of nervousness.

-We had lots of eye contact during our date. On a per-minute basis, I’ve never had as much eye contact during a date as I did with you.

-You said, “It was nice to meet you.” at the end of our date. A woman could say this statement as a way to show that she isn’t interested in seeing a man again or she could mean what she said–that it was nice to meet you. The statement, by itself, is inconclusive.

-We had a nice conversation over dinner. I don’t think I’m being delusional in saying this statement.

In my opinion, leading someone on (i.e., giving mixed signals) is impolite and immature. It’s bad to do that.
Normally, I would not be asking for information if a woman and I don’t go out again after a first date. However, in our case, I’m curious because I think our date went well and that there is a lot of potential for a serious relationship. Of course, it’s difficult to predict what would happen, but I think there is a lot of potential for a serious relationship developing between us one day (or least there was before your non-response to my voicemail and text messages).

I think we should go out on a second date. In my opinion, our first date was good enough to lead to a second date.
Why am I writing you? Well, hopefully, we will go out again. Even if we don’t, I gain utility from expressing my thoughts to you. In addition, even if you don’t want to go out again, I would like to get feedback as to why you wouldn’t want to go again. Normally, I wouldn’t ask a woman for this type of feedback after a first date, but this is an exception given I think we have a lot of potential.

If you don’t want to go again, then apparently you didn’t think our first date was good enough to lead to a second date. Dating or a relationship is not a Hollywood movie. It’s good to keep that in mind. In general, I thought the date went well and was expecting that we would go out on a second date.

If you’re not interested in going out again, then I would have preferred if you hadn’t given those mixed signals. I feel led on. We have a number of things in common. I’ll name a few things: First, we’ve both very intelligent. Second, we both like classical music so much that we go to classical music performances by ourselves. In fact, the number one interest that I would want to have in common with a woman with whom I’m in a relationship is a liking of classical music. I wouldn’t be seriously involved with a woman if she didn’t like classical music. You said that you’re planning to go the NY Philharmonic more often in the future.

As I said, I go to the NY Philharmonic often. You’re very busy. It would be very convenient for you to date me because we have the same interests. We already go to classical music performances by ourselves. If we go to classical music performances together, it wouldn’t take any significant additional time on your part. According to the internet, you’re 33 or 32, so, at least from my point of view, we’re a good match in terms of age. I could name more things that we have in common, but I’ll stop here. I don’t understand why you apparently don’t want to go out with me again. We have numerous things in common. I assume that you find me physically attractive. If you didn’t find me physically attractive, then it would have been irrational for you to go out with me in the first place. After all, our first date was not a blind date. You already knew what I looked like before our date. Perhaps, you’re unimpressed that I manage my family’s investments and my own investments. Perhaps, you don’t think I have a “real” job. Well, I’ve done very well as an investment manager. I’ve made my parents several millions of dollars.

That’s real money. That’s not monopoly money. In my opinion, if I make real money, it’s a real job. Donald Trump’s children work for his company. Do they have “real” jobs? I think so. George Soros’s sons help manage their family investments. Do they have “real” jobs? I think so. In addition, I’m both a right-brain and left-brain man, given that I’m both an investment manager and a philosopher/writer. That’s a unique characteristic; most people aren’t like that. I’ve never been as disappointed and sad about having difficulty about getting a second date as I am with you. I’ve gone out with a lot of women in my life. (FYI, I’m not a serial dater. Sometimes, I’ve only gone out with a woman for one date.) People don’t grow on trees. I hope you appreciate the potential we have.

Am I sensitive person? Sure, I am. I think it’s better to be sensitive than to be insensitive. There are too many impolite, insensitive people in the world.

I suggest that we continue to go out and see what happens. Needless to say, I find you less appealing now (given that you haven’t returned my messages) than I did at our first date. However, I would be willing to go out with you again. I’m open minded and flexible and am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I wish you would give me the benefit of the doubt too. If you don’t want to go out again, in my opinion, you would be making a big mistake, perhaps one of the biggest mistakes in your life. If you don’t want to go out again, then you should have called to tell me so. Even sending a text message would have been better than nothing. In my opinion, not responding to my messages is impolite, immature, passive aggressive, and cowardly. I spent time, effort, and money meeting you for dinner. Getting back to me in response to my messages would have been a reasonable thing for you to do. In addition, you arrived about 30 minutes late for our date. I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if a man showed up thirty minutes late for a first date with you.

If you’re concerned that you will hurt my feelings by providing specific information about why you don’t want to go with me again, well, my feeling are already hurt. I’m sad and disappointed about this situation. If you give information, at least I can understand the situation better. I might even learn something that is beneficial.

If you don’t want to go out again, that I request that you call me and make a sincere apology for leading me on (i.e., giving me mixed signals). In my opinion, you shouldn’t act that way toward a man and then not go out with him again. It’s bad to play with your hair so much and make so much eye contact if you’re not interested in going out with me again. I have tried to write this email well, but it’s not perfect. Again, I’m not trying to be harsh, insulting, patronizing, etc. I’m disappointed, sad, etc. I would like to talk to you on the phone. I hope you will call me back at xxx-xxx-xxxx> (if it’s inconvenient for you to talk on the phone when you read this email, you can let me know via email that you are willing to talk on the phone and I’ll call you). If you get my voicemail, you can a leave a message and I can call you back. Even if you don’t want to go out again, I would appreciate it if you give me the courtesy of calling me and talking to me. Yes, you might say things that hurt me, but my feelings are already hurt. Sending me an email response (instead of talking on the phone) would better than no response at all, but I think it would be better to talk on the phone. Email communication has too much potential for misinterpretation, etc.

Best, Mike

via Huffington Post.

Ladies, do you want to go on a date with Mike? What a beautiful letter, no?

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

Protect your nuts.

One of the most interesting facets of being an internet talking head, especially in the relationship realm, is how often people get their panties in a bunch about generalizations. Now, I’m not sure if it’s because people aren’t sure that we don’t know better or because people just like to point out that everybody isn’t XYZ. Whoopty whoop whoopty whoop whoop.

Here’s the long and short of it: I both know that everybody isn’t one way or another. But I also talk to too many people at once to NOT generalize. Also, I tend to assume that most of the reading populace is smart enough to grasp the concept that I don’t need to put “some” in front of every generalized statement in order to play fair. Well, the reading populace here anyway.

But here’s another issue that I take with being called out on generalizations (and to be real, and rude as this is going to come off, I generally don’t give a f*ck): none of us motherf*ckers are really that special anyway. People don’t like generalizations because they’re too easy. They paint everybody with a broad brush. We’re not all the same. Yes. I know. But the larger your sample of individuals (like say, “women” “men” “Black people” “white people” “ninjas”, etc) the closer you get to an average baseline. The fact is, while you, the specific individual, may not be a nag, in general, a preponderance of women are.

While you, hombre, may not be the inconsiderate, selfish f*ck that men are painted as, there is a huge majority of men who are. Period.

Then there’s this other game that both men and women run when being talked about in a negative fashion: “none of my friends are like that” or “I know more people who aren’t like xyz than are like 123″.

Bull malarkey. We don’t believe you, you need more people. Show and prove. All I do is spark mad izms. While we do tend to exaggerate at times (obviously) the truth is that most people are speaking from personal experience. And somebody like myself who has made it a point to try to do the best I can to observe human behavior (almost to a fault) the generalizations that get made aren’t THAT off base, if at all. Same with stereotypes. I f*cking love stereotypes. Hell, in some instances I attempt to BE the stereotype. You want a n*gga to show up? I’ll be that. If you expect it, allow me to be it.

But people hate those too. And I’ve never understood why folks got so up in arms. Stereotypes are rooted in truth. Now, I understand that most have a pejorative nature to them and since they tend to be generalizations about large groups, nobody wants to be lumped in with that group.

But that’s because you people all want to be special. We have worked so hard individually to NOT be that stereotype that we want to move far from it. Hell, some of you right now are ashamed of your hood family because they fit every stereotype known to man, but because you don’t, you don’t like stereotypes and prefer that they don’t get used.

Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.

Also ran…why don’t folks come down on comedians for their rampant need to use generalizations and stereotypes as as means of social discovery and exploration. Hell, that’s effectively what we do here. And even on sites that are less comedic so to speak, unless you take a larger aim at a subject there’s no discussion to be had. If every time I wrote something I said, Some of You Slob Knobs For Fun But Most Of You Don’t (not true anyway), there’s no discussion or debate to be had. Because there’s nothing to argue. It’s statistically accurate and damn near teflon to dissect.

I honestly think that the only way race relations in this country will get better is if Black folks and white folks sat down at a table and put all of the generalizations and stereotypes on the table as discussion points. That’s how you move forward. The only way you can get past the surface level misunderstandings is to discuss what they are in the first place. Which are generalizations. And stereotypes. Once you get past that point, sure, you can do away with them.

But that’s also a one-on-one thing. And we ain’t there yet. And at the end of the day, most of us have encountered more generalizations than outliers and exceptions to the rule anyway. So while I understand the beef with generalizations, I also think that getting upset about them does more of a disservice than discussing the circumstances around how we even got there in the first place.

All men are dogs? Yep. Now here’s why and here’s where you’re wrong.

All women are insane? Yep. Now here’s why and here’s where you’re wrong.

All Black people are criminals? Wait..what?

All white people smell like wet dogs? Um. What?

Sometimes you have to just put sh*t out there in order to get the debate going. Plus, a ninja like me? I’m the arsonist. I arson sh*t. But at the end of the day there’s a discussion to be had. Hate or love me at the beginning or end of it doesn’t change the fact that the discussion needs to happen does it?

Good people of VSB, what say you? Do generalizations and stereotypes have any place in discussions and debates or are they a detriment to true progress?

Talk to me.

Petey.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka DAT N*GGA aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

They love me. They love me not.

Hi.

My name is Panama Jackson. You may remember from such websites as VSB BP (before pr0n) or VSB BTSSFU (before the site started f*cking up). I have a partner named Champ and a bawse named Liz. We write ’bouts relationships. race, pop culture…you know, the usual.

Enough of the intros. It feels good to be home. You may be wondering, just what the f*ck happened to the site, and what’s with all of the issues we’ve been having around here? Or you may have left a comment saying “VSB used to be dope. It ain’t what it used to be around here.”

Boo hoo ni**a.

Let’s rap a taste. So what was Gucci my ninja? Well it turns out we got robbed. Actually we got hacked. Some big evil bad man (think Dr. Evil with an afro wig and some chopsticks) came into our lifespace and f*cked our site the f*ck up. Got real belligerent and ignant. Just disrespectful. The site got overloaded and crashed multiple times. Every time we thought it was fixed (due to some handy work by Liz) we got inundated with more f*cksh*t. It’s like we were fat because we couldn’t stop eating, and we couldn’t stop eating because we were fat. I love lamp.

The thing that was most annoying for us was that we knew that folks were getting pissed and frustrated. And so were we. Champ and I nearly drove Liz to a permanent retirement no less that 5 times. Liz personally told me to go f*ck myself at least 78 times. And that was in one convo. Plus, everybody kept telling us on Twitter, email, real life (for real, somebody stopped me in the street and was like “yo, your site keeps messing up P”) and on Facebook. Trust me, we knew. Thing is, we couldn’t really take the site down because then we couldn’t make sure our fixes were working. Again, fat = eating, eating = fat.

Not to mention that the site was giving some folks viruses and sending OTHER people to pr0n sites. Unintentionally. Thing is, we all like some pr0n around here. We just want to view it because we want to…which means on our own time.

Raise your hand if you got sent to pr0n at work?

*raises hand*

Le sigh.

We even had to bring in somebody else to help out who may have unlocked the key to the chastity belt to the stars. So hopefully we’re all to the good right now. Of course, we’re monitoring the site to make sure things are running. But we just wanted to let everybody know that…

…a muthaf*cka apologize. DAAAAAAMN.

So what exactly were we doing during the #vsb lockout? Allow me to inform you:

Panama started the world’s first for-profit non-profit, dedicated to selling NFL apparel to help pay the bills of NBA players. He’s gangbusters right now. He also got into that sh*t that George Harrison was on when he wrote “Here Comes The Sun” and “Something”. He also started a support group for people that cannot believe Taylor Swift won the AMA for Artist of the Year, co-founded with Taylor Swift.

Champ. Oh Champ. Champ became angry, bitter, disjointed, and quite crotchety. He bought a bunch of Bill Cosby sweaters and started watching Reed Between The Lines and rocking back and forth in a rocking chair lamenting the old days. He could be heard yelling “f*ck Theo” a lot. He also started an onion garden because onions have layers like Shrek.

Liz. Well, last I heard Liz joined a convent for a day after witnessing a murder in Reno. She quit though when they told her that she couldn’t Tweet all day. Liz then decided to shut up Panama and The Champ by fixing the site and telling them to kick rocks or she’d erase the entire archives. She’d do, she’d do it, yeah we know she’d do it, cuz she’s a te-te-te-tech junkiiiiiiiiiie.

Anyway, we’ve all given up our other lives and come back to dust off VSB and hopefully kick things into high gear. Thanks for sleepwalking with the kids, and we should be back in effect mode like Al B. Sure.

RIP Heavy D.

Welcome back, again. Hopefully we don’t have too many more issues.

So…what did you do during the #vsblockout?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. BACK LIKE COOKED CRACK aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3