Ok first let me say two posts back to back! Yeah for me! ) I still have not figured out how the good folks of the innanet stay employed while blogging, reading and responding all day.) N-T way, the topic for today is appropriate mates. I have created a very basic bucket list for gals like me.
1. Readiness. Run away from any 30+ y.o. dude still hanging out erry other night at a different club, lounge, gathering, etc... This dude is not ready to settle down and play the Ken to your brown Barbie much less settle down and make a lil Skipper (oh shut up, yes I know thats her lil sister but work with me). This dude is the downfall of all IBMs.
2. Gainfully Employed: He does not have to be next in line as the CEO for SAS Institute but shizam Scooby, he gotsa have a decent job with benefits. Your level of bougie-fied scrutinizaton of his long term earning potential is up to you.
3. Single. For the last time people, "I am leaving her, I swear!" are not the words of a single man. Even if he's separated, guess what? HE'S NOT SINGLE! If he dies, his wife gets everything, including the rights to his last name and the aforementioned benefits. Here's a tip ladies: Most single, Black men are Hongry (that is not a typo), lonely and tired of being single. If you feed them, speak with a modicum of interest and are able to be quiet during the game. You my friend can get out of the game too.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The Antithesis
My sister mentioned Coolio's new show. Apparently he is looking for his new love interest. The convo went a lil like this:
Sis: I feel a little sad for Coolio
Me: LOL! Coolio is the antithesis of my very being
Sis: I just feel bad for him. He had money and all those opportunities and such. How do you fall off like that?
Me: Easy! See exhibit 1: MC Hammer
Now mind you, we recently had a lengthy convo about my uber-high standards in men. I think they are way reasonable but my sister thinks that I have such stringent dating requirements that there would only be about 13.75 men within a 50 mile radius that would met them. Of course, I wholeheartedly disagree... I just like what I like.
Now, back to Coolio, I don't care of I lost both legs, gained 100 pounds and stayed with a multiude of cold sores on both my top and bottom lips, I would'nt date him. I mean not even if all the batteries in America were quarantined and all other men perished but him. Naw man, hell naw! HE WEARS TINY PLAITS THAT STICK UP OFF HIS HEAD! And furthermore, he cuts holes out of age-inappropritae hats to allow said hair to stick out. Plus he looks like he is in the beginning stages of a mean crack recovery/treatment program.
I say all of this to say, "Can't we find a happy medium people?" he doesn't have to the Barack to my Michelle but he damn sho can't be the Jody to my Yvette either.
Sis: I feel a little sad for Coolio
Me: LOL! Coolio is the antithesis of my very being
Sis: I just feel bad for him. He had money and all those opportunities and such. How do you fall off like that?
Me: Easy! See exhibit 1: MC Hammer
Now mind you, we recently had a lengthy convo about my uber-high standards in men. I think they are way reasonable but my sister thinks that I have such stringent dating requirements that there would only be about 13.75 men within a 50 mile radius that would met them. Of course, I wholeheartedly disagree... I just like what I like.
Now, back to Coolio, I don't care of I lost both legs, gained 100 pounds and stayed with a multiude of cold sores on both my top and bottom lips, I would'nt date him. I mean not even if all the batteries in America were quarantined and all other men perished but him. Naw man, hell naw! HE WEARS TINY PLAITS THAT STICK UP OFF HIS HEAD! And furthermore, he cuts holes out of age-inappropritae hats to allow said hair to stick out. Plus he looks like he is in the beginning stages of a mean crack recovery/treatment program.
I say all of this to say, "Can't we find a happy medium people?" he doesn't have to the Barack to my Michelle but he damn sho can't be the Jody to my Yvette either.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Yes We Did! Post Commentary
OK, so I was nervous all day on Tuesday. I had the bubbleguts and all. I went back and forth about whether I should stay at home (to avoid the massive "social unrest that would likely occur if the home team did'nt win) or go out and be social. I chose the latter and pieced together a festive Election Results ensemble. Actually, I had two different fits but don't hate me, I know it was extra but the evening called for two distinct looks: I am a future Michelle Obama/I'm casually fly with my Obama tee and namebrand jeans.
So I call up my homegirl and we roll out to the Democratic party celebration at this hotel downtown. This was a thinly veiled effort to scout some IBMs (ideal black men) but I went 0 for 1. However, my homegirl rolls up on dude who looks like he could have given Mr. "I-can-tell-you-how-I-feel-about-you-night-and-day" a run for his money back in the day (read 20 years ago). I skate off to the corner cuz I'm just not feeling the brothas up in here. I give her and said old skool dude space but she is really chopping it up with dude so I am patient. Meanwhile, te race appers to be getting close between our boy and McGeezer. I finally have to text her to close the deal so we can ride out to the 2nd location.
We arrive and as soon as we walk in, they announce it. Obama won! I am overcome with unspeakable joy! My people are hugging, screaming and pumping their fists in the air! I almost can't believe it, the moment is so surreal. Then the DJ turns up the music and you know its on! I see Mrs. Moosekiller on the big screen tearing up and I can't help but feel a mixture of relief and downright giddy. I laugh... and shake my bootay.
We hang out until the wee hours. Obama makes his speech and the entire joint is in complete silence. I note that the brothers are hugging the ladies excessively and deduce that Obama may have inadvertently made a lot of Black men winners that night.
So I call up my homegirl and we roll out to the Democratic party celebration at this hotel downtown. This was a thinly veiled effort to scout some IBMs (ideal black men) but I went 0 for 1. However, my homegirl rolls up on dude who looks like he could have given Mr. "I-can-tell-you-how-I-feel-about-you-night-and-day" a run for his money back in the day (read 20 years ago). I skate off to the corner cuz I'm just not feeling the brothas up in here. I give her and said old skool dude space but she is really chopping it up with dude so I am patient. Meanwhile, te race appers to be getting close between our boy and McGeezer. I finally have to text her to close the deal so we can ride out to the 2nd location.
We arrive and as soon as we walk in, they announce it. Obama won! I am overcome with unspeakable joy! My people are hugging, screaming and pumping their fists in the air! I almost can't believe it, the moment is so surreal. Then the DJ turns up the music and you know its on! I see Mrs. Moosekiller on the big screen tearing up and I can't help but feel a mixture of relief and downright giddy. I laugh... and shake my bootay.
We hang out until the wee hours. Obama makes his speech and the entire joint is in complete silence. I note that the brothers are hugging the ladies excessively and deduce that Obama may have inadvertently made a lot of Black men winners that night.
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