Monday, January 19, 2009

City of God's Son

Introducing a ground-breaking new form of story telling, filmmaker Kenzo Hakuta reveals his latest production entitled City of God’s Son featuring Nas, Jay Z, Biggie Smalls, Delroy Lindo, Ghostface, Raekwon, Samuel L. Jackson, and Laurence Fishburne. The project is a spectacular soundscape into the world of the iconic gangster. Utilizing multiple mediums including 3D audio, original music production, sound design, and dialogue samples Hakuta draws the listener into a mythical world exploring the relationship between a father and son and the struggle to define themselves in this world. More information about this extraordinary release can be found at the official City of God’s Son website complete with a full download and trailer.

In the Mid- 90's before reality TV, before hip-hop became THE commercial music format, the culture and its marquee artists were larger than life characters to Kenzo. Through this project he seeks to resurrect some of that mythology by reinserting the very personas these artists promote to sell records, and putting them in a more human and vulnerable coming-of-age crime saga where they are now the kids looking up to the gangster icon characters played by their father figures (Samuel L. Jackson, Delroy Lindo), all within a mythical crime-ridden New York-like jungle metropolis. It has been said that film is the manipulation of space, and music the manipulation of time. Thus COGS is a manipulation of the unseen image, the unsung song, the space in-between image and sound that connects the two. It is "Synesthisia" -- which is by definition the crossing of senses, seeing what you hear and hearing what you see.

More information about this extraordinary release can be found at the official City of God’s Son website complete with a full download and trailer.


Youtube link to trailer:

Common to star in Terminator Salvation

Anyone that knows me, knows how much I love Common. So, you can just imagine how excited I was when I found out that he's going to be in Terminator 4. I think he is the ONLY rapper, ...who HAS NOT acted in a bad movie to date, a claim no other rapper can make, just look at his past works(Smokin Aces, American Gangster, Street Kings, Wanted). So I actually have a lot of high hopes for this movie. And I guess you all want to know who the main character is too. Christian Bale plays the main character John Connor. He has had roles in The Prestige, Harsh Times, 3:10 to Yuma, Batman Begins & its sequel 'The Dark Knight'.

It comes out on May 22nd, just a few days after my birthday. I for one will definitely be checking this movie out, simply for my boo, Common. You should too.

And heres a link to the trailer: VIEW TRAILER

Friday, January 16, 2009

My Body Never Knew Such Pleasure, My Heart Never Knew Such Pain!

As I was driving and listening, to “All Cried Out” by Allure earlier today, it got me thinking. Why is that always the case with us women? Why can’t our body’s know such pleasure, without it having a negative effect on our heart. Shit, if men can think with their penises, why the hell can’t we think with our vaginas? Why is it so easy for us to make love but so hard for us just to fuck? What I’m referring to is the kind of fuck that doesn’t involve love. Just a raw no strings attached lustfully driven fuck. Keyword: lust, not love. Making love is great too but, they both have their role, sometimes you want to be all mushy gushy with all the trying to please your partner stuff, and other times you just want to dig in your claws, let your inner freak take control, and fuck like there’s no tomorrow. Men see sex as more of a recreational activity, kind of like basketball, while most women see it as this sort of close, personal bonding experience.

Wouldn’t we just perform so much better in the rest of our lives if we had a shameless fuck here and there to relieve our pent up sexual tension?

So, whats the problem?

Is it the fear of getting pregnant or contracting an STD?

Or, is it the double standard in our society, the fact that a man can go sleep with a whole brothel and he gets applauded and referred to as “THAT DUDE” but a woman sleeps with two men without a commitment and she’s labeled as a smut/whore/bird?

Do we really just care too much about what other people think?

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Types of Men I Refuse To Date

And if any dude is reading this, I'm sure that the same things can be applied towards females.

1) The Criticizer- If you can’t do anything right, you have found Mr. Wrong.

2) The Leech- The dude who brings the camera on the first date. Wants to tag along with you anywhere you go. Starts bringing up marriage within first few dates.

3) The Neglecter- “I’m gonna call you right back boo.” Right back to him is two weeks later.

4) The Pathological Liar- “My bad. Did I say Porsche? A Hyundai kinda looks like a Porsche, right?” Might as well call him Mr.Pinnochio.

5) The Show Off- Gives you a whole damn inventory of his possessions within the first ten minutes of your first date. Exaggerates importance of position at work. (ie: Tells you he works at a law firm, what he leaves out is that he works in the mail room)

6) The Know it All- You can’t tell him nothing. Try it, and he will tell you that you can’t tell him nothing.

7) Mr. Cocky- Thinks he is god’s gift to mankind. Every other sentence starts with “I”.

8) The Lush- Refuses to go out to any place that doesn’t serve alcohol. Has a flask handy at all times.

9) The Abuser- Extremely jealous. Tells you who you can talk to. Fantasized Aggression (ie: I swear if he looks at you again, I’m going to rip his head off)

10) The Pleaser- Sends you flowers every day to your job to tell you he’s thinking about you. Calls you every hour, on the hour, to see how your day is going. He’s there at your beck and call and you don’t even need a bell.

11) Too Far Without A Car- Lives in West bumblefuck and doesn’t even own a car. Oh, but don’t worry, he has a monthly metro card-SIKE!

12) The Cheater- “Baby, I swear, that was my sister who picked up my phone”.

13) The Busy Bee- Has way too much going on with work and side projects that he barely has time for you. Absence makes the libido wander.

14) The Sex Feen- First question he asks every time he calls is “What are you wearing?”. Overly touchy feely in public and always offering to buy you more drinks. Can not stop talking about his penis.

15) The Embryo- He tells you he’s 4 years older than you, and then later confesses, he is actually two years younger.

16) Deadbeat Dad- If he doesn’t give a shit about his own flesh and blood, what the hell makes you think he will give a shit about you?

17) The Player- Says he’s retired the Jersey but his phone does not stop ringing after 3am.

18) Momma's Boy- The one who lives with his mother AND mooches off her. This excludes the dude who lives with her and pays the bills because he wants to, not because he has to.

19) Semi-Taken- When you ask him what his situation is, he will tell you "It's complicated" And we all know this means he still talking to his ex.

I'm sure there is plenty more, but this is all I could think of for now.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Last of a Dying Breed?

I was drunk beyond belief one night not too long ago. It was my unofficial Dickhead Detox outing. It wasn’t complete drunkenness though. There was no dancing on tables and I definitely didn't manhandle any potential suitors below the waist. With the amount of grey goose in my system, I have to say, I was pretty well-behaved.

So, I invited an incredibly attractive man (let’s call him Larry) to come party with me that night. I met Larry a while back and had kind of just put him on the backburner because he lived way to far from me. Distance can be an inconvenience when it comes to jump-offs. It matter now. He was the victim for the night. If all had gone according to my plan, he would have been my "reward" for the night. I had just gotten out of a 1-year predicament (because for me to call it a relationship would be inaccurate) and convinced myself the only real way I can get him out of my system is if I added someone new to the roster. The plan was to gauge Larry’s interest, and if he was indeed interested, he’d invite me over to celebrate me finally getting over the ex. I'd tell him let’s pick up a bottle of wine and we can watch a late night movie...or “something.”

Larry shows up looking even more scrumptious than I remembered. We talk, get our drink on, and I'm really digging him, hitting him with the A game all night. He seems like he's feeling me too. Oh yes! So we flirt back and forth throughout the night and by the end of the evening, he puts it out there that he would be more than happy to fulfill any needs I might have for the rest of the night and the near future. Oh Snap! Here's my chance to get it poppin, to get Mr. dickhead ex out of my system for good. This is what I have been waiting for... and what do I do after 6 grey goose and sprites and 2 shots of patron later?

It strikes again, my terrible habit of thinking out loud. Word vomit.

I ask what his current situation is. (Why the hell I waited till I was damn near jumping his bones at the lounge, I don't know.) He has a girl. And even though this is supposed to be a mere jump-off and the fact that he was taken totally shouldn't matter, in my drunkest state of mind, I tell this guy who is the epitome of physical perfection something along the lines of, "I respect relationships. No can do. But, you have my number, if you ever find yourself unattached, holla."

In my absolute drunkenness, I am still a lady.

A complete fool? Or the last of a dying breed?

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Open Relationships..

Not too long ago, I met this amazing guy James(name has been changed to protect my privacy)at a lounge one night. He was tall, dark and handsome and a ridiculously nice person. For reasons that I can't remember, I didn't give him my digits the first night we met although we had an interesting conversation. Just about two weeks later, same lounge, I run into him again. Apparently he is a regular there on Monday nights. Anyways, this time I make sure I take his number before we even start our conversation. Needless to say, in the next week or so, I called him. We went on several dates and really clicked. We have a pretty good thing going. There was an understanding between us.

James is certainly not my boyfriend, even though we might act like a couple when we are together. We call each other friends and I am perfectly okay with that. I’m not a huge fan of labels/titles anyways. And I would much rather people know me by my name instead of referring to me as “James’ girl”. And we've talked about (and agreed to) seeing other people but making sure we are priority to one other. I don’t give a shit as long as I’m number one on his list. This weekend we had our first argument. We've been friends for a good few months now, and we've started getting, dare I say it, “serious”. I guess once a person’s in your life consistently, you start to have expectations. And it's aggravating when people fall short of that. And you become a little more vulnerable too as your trust and comfort levels increase, which the other person might not be used to.

James has been having a pretty rough time. I won't lay out all of his details, but it's the usual, you know when the bullshit piles up so high that you no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel. We have all been there. I make sure I point that out here, not to play it down, but to let him know that it's a part of life, like puberty. And I know I'm not handling it well. He's been calling more than usual, running through his list of hundred and one issues each time. I have tried to listen patiently and be a supportive “friend”, but after a few weeks of these two hour conversations about his issues... Well, not that I didn’t want to talk to him, but I was tired of listening to his problems. I have some of my own that need handling too, but you don’t see me throwing all of it on you like you’re my therapist. And it’s kind of hard to go about solving my own problems when I’m sitting here listening to his. Selfish? Maybe. But I didn’t sign up for this. What happened to our free from care, talk about nothing of significance conversations? I used to call and ask how his day was and he'd have some good news or something real funny to tell me. Now all I get are issues. And misery is damn contagious. Not a good look!

But I listened to him anyway, because I figure, he trusts in me to speak to me about this is. It’s the least I could do. I guess this is what people in relationships of even the platonic type do, right? Be there for each other? Plus, I figure the faster his woes get resolved, we can get back to the business of being happy and unattached. After weeks of bad news, he calls me with more Friday night while I'm at dinner with another boo, having a pretty intense conversation. I listen patiently, once again, and offer a few tidbits of advice, as my date sits there, pretending like he isn’t bothered by how rude I am for answering my phone in the middle of a conversation with him.

James then goes into something else, another problem, and I cut him off nicely, asking if I can call him back as soon as I’m done with dinner.

"What’d you say?"

I explain to him again, and this time more sweeter than the first time. What I don't say to him is that I'm a little preoccupied right now, thinking about nothing with any worries enjoying this unusually nice date with this other boo who I usually just ignore for his ass.

"Whatever. Peace." Click.

What the fuck? I stare at my phone. Is he seriously mad at me?

And a few minutes later, the other boo heads to the bathroom and I take a moment to call James. The phone rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. I hate leaving voicemails but I do it anyways. "Hey boo, just wanted to call to make sure you are okay. You sounded upset earlier, wanted to make sure everything's good with us. Call me back ASAP."

He usually hits me right back when he misses a call, even if it's just to say he's busy. But nope, not this time.

Three hours or so later, I go to bed.

I suck at sleeping so a few hours later, I wake up. It's like 3:30 AM. He’s probably just leaving from some party with his boys. I wait a while. Check my email/myspace/facebook. Then I call him and tell him I’m sorry for acting like an asshole. I tell him that I appreciate him. And how I'm so used to him now that I forget some of the assholes I used to deal with. And I'm so glad that he's not like that.

"That's good for you." Excuse me? Maybe I just woke him up?

He tells me he just got in from a party, like I had suspected. "Um, are you feeling alright, is everything okay with you?

"Yeah, I’m fantastic," he says sarcastically.

Are you serious?

"Why don't you go back out with your friend?" he says.

Oh no he didn't! You have got to be kidding me.

It's pretty evident that he is inebriated and is acting like a jerk. And that he clearly doesn't want to speak to me, so I don't argue. I don't know what I did, but no matter how bad I want to stay on the phone with him, I'm not going to beg any nigga to stay on the phone with me.

"Alrighty then. (Pause) Peace." Click.

I don't hear from him all Saturday. He calls me pretty much every Saturday morning once he has recovered from his hangover. He didn't that day. I figured he needs some time because he's upset about some dumb shit. It really was starting to get to me because I didn’t think I did anything wrong. I finally called him around 5 PM to ask him why he’d acting like a bitch and he basically just tells me he's busy and can't talk.

This time I decide to just fall back. I don't know what the hell is wrong with him. He sounds real bothered when I call and has nothing to say. He hasn’t returned my call. This is the longest we've gone without speaking to each other and I can’t front, I kind of miss him. Hey, I can be needy sometimes too. Maybe he needs his space and I am just crowding him?

I don't hear from him for the rest of the day. I’m still in fallback mode because I know he has work Saturday night, so I decide not to send him his routine text before he heads out. The one time I actually fall asleep before 1 AM, around 3:30 AM, I get woken up to “Sexual Healing”, the ringtone James had set for himself on my phone. Surprise Surprise, in typical asshole fashion, it's a ONE word text from him. "Wow."

I'm trying to figure out what the hell he's so damn amazed by when he calls as I’m still texting him back asking for an explanation to the fuckery of a text message he sent.

So I answer. All I hear is him yelling and complaining.

My first instinct was to flip out on him and then just proceed to write him off. But its still less than two weeks into the new year, I remembered my resolution about being less of an asshole and to trying to be patient and kind even when you feel like being an asshole. I'm slowly getting more and more aggravated as the foolishness keeps flowing out of his mouth.

But I decided to stay on the phone for the next 2 hours talking it out until the shit was completely resolved. He was pissed that I blew him off (his words, not mine) on Friday. I was wide awake by then(and although less aggravated, still far from calm) so I stared at the ceiling fan and thought about life, what I often do when I am trying to sleep or figure out my life out my life.

I’ve come to realize I've avoided relationships for the past few years. There are a few reasons that I’m so predictable and that I rotate dudes on such a regular basis, as my friend pointed out, I change dudes with seasons. And I know why. I don't think I'm built for this relationship shit. At the first sign of real conflict, somewhere around where the new season begins, I’m out, PEACE. Not that I haven’t done the whole relationship thing before but I just can’t be in one right now. I have much more important things to worry about, like my career.

I keep thinking, what the fuck does a healthy relationship even mean? What’s entailed in it? I have to not only figure out which way I feel about something and why, but figure out what my significant other is feeling too? And does it mean I have to care even when I don't feel like it and listen to him too? Do I have to be tolerant and kind even when I don't feel like it? Do I have to hold back my usual assholishness and my tongue from saying reckless shit just so he doesn’t think I “blew him off”? I have to forgive and pretend like I’m over it? I have to spend time to work through a conflict and move on when it's resolved? I have to take my time out to deal with his problems while dealing with my own too? SMH

Don’t get me wrong though, James is a really good dude. It’s the first time in a good minute that I am actually feeling someone the way I feel him. But I think I've been in an open relationship and single for far too long, too used to thinking about just me. And I know I’m going to sound selfish but, there's a part of me that likes not having to be the primary person who's concerned about another person's problems.

Can I even do this relationship thing with James? Can I keep building with him to see where this goes? Couldn’t Valentine’s Day be in a few months instead of next month? I know he’s going to want to be with me on Valentine’s Day and I know I’m going to have to say yes if I want to keep him around. Then what if he says those 3 forbidden words, “I Love You”, I can’t lie and say I do too. Most people think Valentine’s Day is spending it with the one you love. Unless of course he can look over that and think like the Boss Lady does and realize that the real underlying theme of Valentines Day isn’t all flowers, candy and the mushy gushy stuff, it’s NOOKIE! I just hope he doesn’t try and get serious after Valentine’s Day. This is how it always happens. Then there’s going to be the talk about how we should stay monogamous. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that, I really don’t.

This brings me to my final question:

Do you think it’s possible to love someone, and only them, while messing with other people?

MY ANSWER: Since I am all for open relationships, I think it is. I have loved someone who I was in an open relationship with. I think every other person that we mess around with is just a reminder to us why we are with the person we are with. Let’s say if your significant other leaves you for one of the jump offs, then it was inevitable. They were bound to leave you sooner or later.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Ladies-Pay for your own drinks.

So my friend forwarded this to me. Figured my blog entries are mainly reads for women thus far so you men might like this one. I didn't write it. But it definitely made me laugh so here you go.

When I did my taxes this year I found out that I spent over $14,000 on Dates last year. Most of that was spent on dinner and drinks in Manhattan. Now don't get me wrong, I had some very good times, some great sex, some good conversations. Hell, I even made a good friend along the way, but mainly I came away from the date feeling extremely disappointed and with a lighter wallet. Date by date it's not THAT much money but it all adds up fast!

In the past I had a habit of always grabbing the check and paying whether my date was hot or not. Whether we clicked or not. Basically I felt ashamed to let her pay. I also kept and interesting statistic and ev en I was surprised that only 5% of my dates even offered to pay - yes you see that right- 5%! One girl in the entire year offered to pay for the entire check. A very nice gesture. But of course I paid and doubt she was sincere. In light of all this evidence I knew I had to change some things. So, this year.....

I DECIDED TO NEVER PAY FOR A FIRST DATE AGAIN. How did I do this? First adopted the mindset that a girl should naturally assume she's paying for herself. Now this wasn't easy at first but I quickly got used to it. Then when going into the bar/restaurant/lounge etc. I would hand the server a credit card and ask them to open tabs for us. HEY!-Did you catch that? I said 'TABS.' Yah, don't worry at least 95% of the girls I meet miss that one too. Just to make sure I usually confirm that the server has understood me too. I do this when the date rudely answers her cell phone or is in the bathroom (probably using her cell phone). Guys, you know the Mastercard "priceless" serie s of commercials? Well, let me tell you, you won't understand the meaning of 'priceless' until you see one of these girls handed their own check for 3 20$ martinis and overpriced food (that they would probably never buy on their own). It's also very relaxing to encourage the girl to eat and drink up because even at 20$ a pop for exotic gooey blender drinks I could care less how many of them she has - cause SHE'S PAYING.

Oddly enough when she realizes that there are individual bills there will a few prolonged moments of discomfort. But don't panic. Something that took me by surprise is how many girls suddenly have to 'go to an ATM'. I can't quite figure out if it's because their cc's are maxed out on shoe purchases or that they are trying to guilt me into paying. Well, probably a combination of both, but I'm remorseless after doing this for nearly 3 months now. Which brings me to my date last night...... omg.....

Of course the classy nice Irish pub I suggested w asn't good enough for her. Nah...she needed to go somewhere more trendy. Ok, no problem. W? Hudson? Meatpacking Dist? SoHo? Where we going? So she picks a midtown hotel bar. Nice place. Little stuffy. Drinks, not bad and Macadamia nuts on the lounge tables (complimentary) nice! Of course I went thru my usual routine, handed the server a credit card asked her if we can start tabs she said, 'sure' and took the card. 1 drink in her cell phone rang. She apologized, (she had to get it). So I moved into confirmation mode. Our waitress even missed the 'tabs' part but she adjusted on the fly and told me no problem. Boy, let me tell you - the girl i was with could really throw down the drinks. She was drinking scotch that was older than the hotel we were in. Of course I encouraged her the whole way. She was like, wow they have Johnny Walker BLUE label! I was like, 'you ever try it?' She's like....'Nooooooo!!!' I'm like, 'go on....just get some'. She's like 'are you sure'. I'm like, 'look, if you want it, just get it!' So she ordered one, then another, and finally one more..... wow she was probably more than a little drunk. I stuck to my Stoli and a splash of Cran.

When the BILL(S) came she sobered up fast. I caught a glimpse of hers, 5 drinks plus a little finger food $319.00 I think it was. She looked shocked and sick to her stomach when she saw 2 bills. Guess she thought I was buying. Think again. (The old me woulda soaked up the bill but steered her away from the Blue) I had 4 drinks, no food and a great buzz. Pricey Stoli, but overall still a good value (i ate a ton of free macadamias and almond ds) $36.00. Damn I thought, that BLUE label will get you every time. Of course she did more than the traditional fumble through her purse. Her face was beat red and she was speechless. She left the bill on the table and excused herself for the restroom. I had already paid and was sucking on some ice. The waitress was looking concerned. I told her, 'look'. Sure enough my date was heading out toward the front door. I slowly grabbed my coat as the waitress ran after her. Then security or a bellman grabbed her at the door and a small shouting match ensued. Can you imagine, she was trying to leave - without paying!

Well, I didn't stick around to see what happened. All I saw was the poor waitress standing just inside the front door with a small coctail tray. she did look concerned but not panicked. A doorman and bell hop had the girl by the arm, outside and was semi-forcing her back inside, she wasn't getting away from this bill. I paid my bill. I had my receipt. But I couldn' t help wondering why she ordered 3 Johnny Walker Blues, doesn't she know that shit is expensive? Then I wondered if they had to arrest her while I had another drink at my local Irish pub.

I haven't heard from her again. Too bad, she was pretty cute too...

Sunday, January 4, 2009

How to Survive in the Dating Game


More than anything else, ladies, it's crucial that we change our outlook. Fuck it, stop thinking positively. Kiss expectation good-bye. Peace out optimism.

Because we shouldn't be masochists.
And dating is indeed a process of elimination.
Dating isn't just about meeting "the one". It's a filtering process. Like the Brita Filter for romance. Think about it, how else are we gonna figure out who we want to be with and what we are really looking for, except through trial, error, and experience?

The things we find sexy when we are fifteen-say, their ability to match their hats with there throwback jersey-are not what we want when we are 18-pretty much any guy who owns a vehicle-which is not, in turn, what we want when we're 25(a guy as solid as his credit rating). And this maturation comes from dating all the lames, players, wanna be rappers/djs/promoters/any profession that attracts groupies.

Bad dates are inevitable, but they are crucial and often necessary education. I have been on a date with pretty much every type of dude, you name it. I dated the freak who collected snakes to the dude who got called in for police line-ups on a regular basis.

But with each guy, I learned something. I learned that by the time I meet "him", I will be smart enough to appreciate him and know that this was exactly what I wanted all along. Every jerk we go out with is one less idiot we risk spending our lives with.

I pity those ridiculous females who go all out for dates. Treating them as their own personal Academy Awards. Even if they can't afford it-going out and buying a whole new outfit for the occasion. They hope and pray that every date will be "it" and they will finally be chosen. Date just started and they already thinking about walking down the aisle and delivering the acceptance speech. But if it doesn't happen, they cut themselves off from the world feeling devastated and swearing off ALL men until the next lameass asks them out.

Better method-we should get dressed jamming to, "Another One Bites the Dust." that way, if the date doesnt turn out to be total hell, we'll be pleasantly suprised.


The real purpose of a date isn't to meet someone. It's actually just so we can have something to talk about at lunch with our homegirls about the previous day.

Since majority of our dates we go on will end in disappointment, we might as well just approach them as a source of endless entertainment for ourselves and our friends.

So what if that dude who claimed to be a record executive at some record label turned out to be street team. <-True Story

So what if he says he wants to take you to a "really nice spot" and to dress up, and he ends up taking you to Olive Garden.

So what if your date spent the whole evening crying over his ex girlfriend?

Fuck it. Nothing takes the sting out of a shitty date like detachment and humor.


Nothing else can make a female feel as empowered as talking shit about past experiences of humiliation and misery. Why else would we watch those ridiculous talk shows?

Especially when it comes to love. Sure, every once in a while we get hit with a story about the woman who gave up trying to meet someone and then met her One True Love at the Laundromat.

But when you just get home after a date with a lame-o who spent the entire time making racist jokes and touching his crotch, you really don't want to hear about the bitch who met her soulmate. We derive a lot more comfort from our friend who just went on date with "dude who needs to by gps asap", who got lost on the way to her house, showed up three hours late(without flowers), and then on top of all of that, had the audacity to hit her up for some gas money. SMH

We have all dated some perfect ten dude, hoping that this will finally be The One, only to come home disappointed or rejected. We find out that this person that we fantasized about is actually thirty-two and living in his parents basement. Or that his life's ambition is to become the next Lil Wayne when he cant rap for shit.

Someone who tells us that she went on one date and "just knew he was the one she would spend the rest of her life with" is a dumbass. Sure, it might have even happened to her, but how the hell does this help us, thank you?

Next time you have a shitty date-or suspect that you might- remember that you're going on it not just for yourself but for the good of all womankind. Your misery could be another females comfort.


Females are expected to act a certain way. Act like a lady and be this perfect creature on a date. And because of this foolishness, we put up with more bullshit than we should.

We say yes to a second date because we don't want to "be mean"-even if the guy is about as interesting as a plant.

We get into our date's BMW, even though nigga can't even walk straight and clearly had too much to drink, only because we dont wanna "offend him"

We lie about our needs and desires hoping we can become more likable.Oh yea, sure, I don't mind that you went ahead and ordered for me; really, I love raw oysters and horseradish. And yeah, I'm a huge Giants fan.

Theres a huge difference between manners and false advertising. If you bullshit him and tell him you are into football, chances are you will end up sitting through a whole fucking season with somebody who painted his chest red and blue with grease paint.

So next time we aren't interested in a guy even if we dont want to be mean, instead of letting him become a stalker and keep calling us every hour on the hour until we file a restraining order, we should just be honest. Maybe not brutally honest but lets be clear. Like "Listen buddy, I took down seven shots of patron, and I'm still not even remotely attracted to you, I am gonna have to get my stomach pumped just to get a hint of attraction, this just isn't going to work. " LoL. Okay maybe not that, but we should just tell them instead of wasting their time.

I remember meeting a man at this lounge a few years back and we hit it off. We were talking, dancing, smooching sans the liquor. Okay, maybe like two drinks but far from being inebriated. We were amazing together. By the end of the night, we exchanged numbers but I was dealing with finals for the following two weeks so I didn't call him until finals were over. When I called him,he sounded a lot less enthused than I was. He told me since he met me, his ex girlfriend came back in the picture. He wasn't sure what was going to happen with them but he didnt want to string me along because it wouldn't be fair to me. And that he likes me and wouldn't want to disrespect me.

At first, it hurt a little when he said it. But then I realized how much of a relief it was knowing where I stood. Shit, Who the hell knows if there was even an ex-girlfriend? But he said it clearly and respectfully.

Since then, I have tried to treat dudes I deal with in the same way. It's not easy, but definitely a lot easier than having to file a restraining order.


Usually if a guys blowing us off, the course of action is to accept it and move the fuck on. If a guy says he's going to call you and two weeks go by, write that nigga off. Don't call him. Don't even bother giving him the satisfaxcction of hearing your neediness, desire and disappointment. Leave that for the birds and feens. Just walk away.

Whats meant to be will be, regardless. Besides, if this dude doesn't work out, it just brings us one step closer to our soulmate. Another One Bites The Dust.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Pain is Pleasure.

The requisite two weeks of no shaving had passed, and I was now ready to get aforementioned bikini wax. I'm on a little vacation, currently in Houston, but I figured, what the hell, not like I have anything better to do. My homegirls had advice for me involving tea tree oil and exfoliants, and were excited for me to join the ranks of bald genitalia. Having the hairs ripped out of the delicate skin of your vulva is always fun. But fuck it, I chose the Brazilian after careful consideration. It’s probably the only time in my life I’ll try it out, as I’m generally opposed to bald genitalia, but I figured I’d keep a tasteful landing strip. So, I called the nice salon I had seen nearby the mall when I was shopping where they give over priced, mediocre haircuts and where a brazillian wax was like $85 dollars with tip. I'd reconciled with the idea that I was going to just have to suck it up and do it, and maybe cut into the alcohol budget. They also had no appointments available that day, the next day, or even the day after that... And I was leaving the day after that. Behind the laundromat where I'm staying I saw a shady little nail place, with a sign "-axing". The W had faded out. I went by there again, and the place was empty except for a korean dude watching KTV. The place is on a corner with big windows and fluorescent lights, a kind of fish bowl effect. I asked the man if they did waxing "Eyebrow?" "No...umm, bikini?" He didn't respond and turned around and walked out of the room, leaving me standing in the middle of the fish bowl.

After almost like five minutes he brought back this girl who looked, at the most,15 years old. She took me into a room that was all mirror on one side, a flickering bluish flourescent light, and a folding table with a blanket over it, and a collection of these little cats with wide eyed expressions on another table facing right up between where my legs were about to be. Definitely a poor design choice, I'd say. The room was about the size and ambiance of the back of a van.

"Where you going?" she asked.
"What?" I was a little lost.
"You go to beach?"
Oh. Um."Yeah sure...for...New Years." What the fuck? That doesn't even make any sense whatsoever.

She started spreading the first patch of wax. "You scared??" I smiled weakly. It was certainly not the best wax I'd ever had. The wax was too hot, was starting to scald the skin, and she tried to rip it off before it had time to set enough, so she had to go back over things a few times. When I flinched a little, she looked alarmed and said "Please don't cry! I will cry if you cry, for feeling bad for you." I was no where even close to crying. It's really not that bad, and this was without a doubt the most painful wax I've had. And I've had MANY bikini waxes before. But I was determined to be a trooper about it and remind myself this really does suck less than shaving. This place charged $45 for a wax. I thought it'd be cheaper, since they were so half assed, but I'll take what I can get.

After going home and taking a shower, I tried on some new panties. Beautiful. And it feels fantastic. No really.

I'm a sucha loser, I had to tell my best friend. "Thanks," she said. "Because you know I always wonder how your pubic region is doing." No applause?

Of course I told my boo too, since I'm going to see him when I get back. He didn't seem too enthusiastic about the aesthetic advances of my vagina either. Whatever, all of you are haters. I'm mad excited.

I really don't think the pain is that bad. I'm worried about messing up my skin or getting a bump or something. And I randomly had the thought later that night that all that pulling was going to destroy the collagen and over time I'd have an old lady vag. Is that insane? But the pain doesn't bother me, I'd rather have a short amount of pain than a long period of discomfort. PAIN IS PLEASURE. I don't mind things that hurt while you're doing them, I kind of like trying to go faster on the elliptical till my legs start burning or getting the last set of crunches in. The way I see it, the hot flushed skin after getting a bikini wax is like the way your legs feel like jelly after a hard stairmaster workout, it just feels like a sense of acomplishment.

Thursday, January 1, 2009


So, The Boss Bitch finally decided to join the multitudes of bloggers, bloggies, bloggets, eh…you get the jist of it!

Not sure why I wanted to join the insanity of the world wide web, but I figured, what the hell, I already have a Myspace,Facebook and all that, might as well start a blog. Perfect way to keep an insomniac busy when all the normal people have already went to bed. I am also an aspiring writer. Everything that I have read indicates that I need to sit on my ass and actually write something in order to consider myself a writer, so…well, here goes.

My ‘name’ is, well, I guess you can just call me-Boss Lady.

Granted this will not become the great American novel, but maybe it will be my start to starting it.

I look forward to getting to know my future readers! ENJOY! :)