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Archive for November, 2009

Never Talking Again, Facebook, and Other Unfinished Topics

November 13th, 2009 15 comments

Sometimes, certain topics that come to me don’t need 500 or more words. Sometimes, they’re  better in brief than they are at length, and because today seems to be one of those days where no one particular idea seems to be dominating my mind, I’m just going to put them all together in one post and share them.

Consider this a behind-the-scenes look at my creative process.

ONE DAY, WE WON’T EVER TALK AGAIN… a post in which I discuss how the words, “Don’t ever talk to me again” are pretty much pointless.


There are a handful of  women from my past who never told me they didn’t want to talk to me ever again, who last I checked were still cool with me, and I with them. Though what’s odd is how I haven’t spoken to them or heard from them in ages and I didn’t even realize it until months and sometimes years had gone. I always wonder how those women are doing and of course, I wonder if they wonder how I am doing.

FIVE WAYS YOUR FACEBOOK PAGE TURNED ME OFF…a post in which I list five things I am easily turned off by after I see a girl’s Facebook page.


5) Her Favorite Quotes Are All Her Own: Girl, why do you insist on quoting yourself so much? What kind of self-righteous, narcissism that? What’s funny is how the quotes they do write are almost never worth re-quoting, which means not only do they talk to themselves too much, they think what they say to themselves is actually hot.

THERE’S BEING SINGLE AND THEN THERE’S BEING WITH YOU…a post in which I try to break down the difference between a man who wants to be single and a man who just doesn’t want to be in a relationship with a woman.


Yes there are those men who know when they’re staring a gift horse in the mouth and choose to walk anyway because the single life is twice as good without anyone else. But those men won’t lie about who they are. The men I’m talking about are the ones who start something with a woman, only to never finish it, and the women who refuse to acknowledge the real reason why

Some women don’t know the difference between the man who wants to be single and a man who just doesn’t like them enough to take it to the next level. They convince themselves the man is the one with the problem, the one with commitment issues, that’s why he doesn’t want to get into a relationship. Well the truth is the only problem the man has is committing to you because in his eyes, there’s something about you that’s not quite right, and he’d much rather you stick around while he figures it out.

ONE MUSTACHE, TWO GIRLS… a post in which I talk about the time in my life I was in two relationships with two women simultaneously and how my mustache (or lack thereof) almost always got me in trouble.


Funny how whenever I shaved off my mustache, one girlfriend thought I did it for her, and when I grew out my mustache, the other girlfriend thought I was doing it for her too. The truth is I wasn’t trying to satisfy either one of them more than the other, I was simply doing what I wanted to do. It was the same line of thinking I applied to dating both of them at the same time.

THINGS THEY DO IN MOVIES  THAT DON’T HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE…a post in which I break down certain things men and women do in movies but in real life, either never happen or aren’t as good as they look on the screen.


Shower sex is always better in the movies than it is in real life. In the movies, it always looks so smooth, and what’s crazy is the man and woman actually look like they took a shower just to have sex, as though the porcelain or marble tile and slippery floors are way more comfortable than a bed’s cushioned mattress and soft sheets. Do they ever look like they went in to the shower to wash the dirt off their bodies? No. And save the song-and-dance about how maybe I’m just not doing shower sex right. How about we just call a spade a spade and say, shower sex in real life sucks and movies lie.

Feel free to comment on any or all of the topics. I’ll see you all on Monday.

Stories: "Are You Scared?"

November 12th, 2009 26 comments

About three years ago, I was in a relationship with a girl who was ultra-competitive. She wasn’t a jock, but she played a couple of sports in high school and remained active in her years after playing organized sports. She went to the gym every morning and when she couldn’t go to the gym, she often went running instead.

At the time, I was doing something I call a prison work out, which involved no weights and just basic push-ups, crunches and tricep presses off the furniture. I learned it from my late uncle, who taught it to me after he served time in prison.

To my girlfriend at the time, my efforts were cute, but after a while she wanted me to go running with her, insisting I couldn’t only do 200 push-ups and 200 sit-ups a day, I had to involve some cardio as well. But I wasn’t into running, and the one time she actually did get me to run, I was so exhausted, I almost broke up with her.

From that point point forward, we stuck to our respective routines, but a couple months after that first and only run with her, her suggestion and my refusal to cooperate with it, would come back to haunt me.

Memorial Day weekend, the two of us decided to go on vacation together and jetted off to one of those sunny resorts where the hotel is right on the beach. I didn’t want to do anything more than lay out, drink, and eat up all the resort’s food, but the resort had all these activities my girlfriend at the time wanted to wanted to do like parasailing and jet-skiing. Unfortunately for her, the guy she went on vacation with had a fear of heights and the ocean, especially the ocean.

It cannot be said enough how much I hate those vasts spaces of water and salt. Seaside, where I’m from, sits right on the Pacific, so there were a lot of beaches, but the climate isn’t beach-friendly; most days it’s around 60 degrees and if we get up in the 70s, we’re experiencing a heat wave. Where I come from, tourists have died from getting caught up in the undertow, thinking it’s all good to just be climbing on rocks. Where I come from, the Pacific Ocean is thugged out and has killed people.

So when my girlfriend at the time suggested we swim way out to a line of floating buoys, which were clearly marked for swimmers to not pass, I was more than hesistant.

“Ummm, we don’t need to go that far,” I said, as we were standing at the lip of the shore.

“Oh come on, it’s not that far,” she said.

Let me try to describe how far the point she wanted to swim to was. I have 20/20 vision, and I had to squint to see it.

“Are you trying to race,” I asked. “Is that what you’re trying to do?”

“Boy please, I’ll beat you,” she said without even looking at me, which was so disrespectful. “Come on, are you scared? You can’t swim?”

“I can swim,” I protested. It was true, I knew how to swim, I just didn’t know if I could swim that far.

“Then what’s the problem,” she asked. And with that she dove right into the water and started to swim out.

I didn’t have time to think, because I knew the minute I gave it a second thought, I’d turn right back around and sit on my beach chair. But my girlfriend at the time had been so patient with me up until this point, I thought, Why not? The least I could do for her was swim, especially if I expected to get any when we got back to the hotel room. So I dove in, as my girlfriend at the time was a good ten feet ahead of me.

With my legs kicking and my arms stroking, I eventually caught up to her and made it to our destination, but by this time, I felt the tide turning, and I don’t mean the one in the ocean, I mean the one in my chest.

I was worn out, meanwhile my girlfriend at the time looked like she swam all of one lap in a  kiddie pool. As I attempted to catch my breath by hanging on to the the string of anchored buoys, she looked at me and said, “You tired?”

I just looked back at her with my chest heaving, not saying a word. She knew the answer.

Before I began to swim back to shore, I paused and gasped by what was in front of me. The shore was far, much farther than the point where I was at now seemed to be when I was standing back there. I didn’t know how I was going to make it back. Well, actually, I knew how, I just did not know if I would make it back.

Just like we began, my girlfriend at the time swam off to head back to shore, and without letting myself catch my breath entirely, I started to swim back right behind her. I don’t know how far I had gotten before my whole body just began to give out. I remember specifically thinking I was at a point where I could start touching the bottom, but when I stopped kicking my feet to feel out the ocean floor and felt nothing instead, I began to do what nobody should do in the middle of the ocean: Panic.

Now the shore seemed even further and I was not only out of breath, but I was losing my mind. Everything became blurry, but I was still trying to muster up the strength to paddle and at least scream for help, even though my mouth was swallowing what felt like gallons of water. Girlfriend at the time, who wasn’t too far ahead of me looked back and saw I was having trouble, but I could tell she was exhausted too. Still, she turned around and attempted to help. We weren’t saying anything to each other by this point, not because we didn’t want to, but because we had to conserve whatever energy and breath we had to make it to the shore. As she tried to pull me up, I could tell she wasn’t going to have enough strength to make any difference, so I kind of pushed her away, indicating to her to just keep swimming back to shore.

She did.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw one of the resort’s lifeguard’s swimming out to save me, and when he got far enough, he threw me a flotation device. I grabbed onto it, as the lifeguard pulled me back to shore safely. No mouth to mouth was necessary, all I needed to do was put my hands on my knees and take a few minutes to catch my breath. Girlfriend at the time rubbed my back thanked the lifeguard, then turned to me and asked if I was okay.I just waved my hand up to indicate I would be fine. I was so exhausted, I almost broke up with her, but seeing as she was dating a guy who clearly couldn’t swim to save his life, I was surprised she didn’t break up with me.

Once I caught my breath, I shrugged everything off, even though she remained apologetic in the immediate aftermath. We went back to our room to change for dinner and by the time our meals came to our table the two of us were laughing over what happened. As a matter of fact, two days later at breakfast, we saw the lifeguard who saved me and I insisted we take a picture, which I think she still has.

Although we would break up months later for entirely different reasons, to this day we remain friends. But workout buddies we’ll never be.

Categories: Stories Tags:

The Problem With Beautiful, Smart, Wonderful Women Pt. 1

November 11th, 2009 36 comments

As singular as my blog is, as much as it is about me, I know the best posts I write are the ones everyone can relate to in some form or fashion, which is  why I have decided to start what is going to be an ongoing list of gripes I hear from other men about women.

Some of them will be very specific, some of them will be very broad, and if I’m doing it right, all of them will be unique. In other words, this is not going to be a list about women who can’t cook or who talk too much. It’s 2009, time to step up our complaining and get specific, act like we have seen some things more than once.

To kick things off, I am only going to start with three complaints I received from three different male readers. In the future, I will feature more and I encourage any readers who would like me to voice a complaint about women to email me their complaint to UNTILIGETMARRIED@GMAIL.COM. If you know me personally, are a Facebook friend or follow me on Twitter, you can also reach out to me via those sites as well. No identities will be revealed and all complaints will be completely confidential.

Be clear, I have no intention of solving any of the issues I list, largely because I am not God nor am I Dr. Phil. I am merely a vessel, a communicator on behalf of the men who have trouble voicing their issues to the women who have trouble listening to them.

Speaking of women: Ladies, if you’re wondering why I will not be running a list of things men love about women it is because it’s impossible to create a wholly unique list of reasons men love women. I also can’t speak on behalf of  women the same way I can for men largely because I am not a woman. Far too often, we forget how different women and men are, which is how we end up giving bad advice to each other, so I don’t want to continue the vicious cycle. Besides, as is the case for most things in life, we learn more from criticism than we do from praise. Just know my intent is not to be misogynistic or chauvinistic, but rather insightful and encouraging, hence the title of this post. Any man involved with a woman is probably, beautiful, smart, and wonderful. Why else would he be involved with her? But perfect she is not.

So here it is, the first part of what is sure to be an exhaustive, authoritative list, from which men can relate and women can learn. Just remember, these are not my thoughts (at least, not exclusively), only my words.

The Problem With Beautiful, Smart, Wonderful Women Is….

Nipple Hair

A male reader of mine told me about this fine woman he was excited to hook up with and by the way he described her, I could have sworn he got Beyoncé to cheat on Jay-Z. So when he told me to guess why he almost stopped everything (he didn’t) and left her apartment, a nipple hair was not even going to be in my Top 5 guesses.

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t felt one or two hairs in my years of sucking on a woman’s breasts, and to say it’s uncomfortable is an understatement. But even more than uncomfortable, it’s baffling because we wonder why it’s there in the first place. In a back and forth with the reader we volleyed reasons why women who have a nipple hair don’t cut it off and here they are:

  1. They don’t know it exists, much like I don’t notice a random hair that grows out of my forehead sporadically (this is absolutely true about me, not the reader).
  2. The nipple hair is connected to vital organs and snipping it off would be life threatening.
  3. They know it exists but think it’s sexy because no man has ever been brave enough to complain.

If there’s a fourth reason, I’d be interested to know, but I think this list covers the broader ones.

The Problem With Beautiful, Smart, Wonderful Women Is…

Low Sex Self Esteem

We all know how uncool it is for a man to brag about his skills in bed (even though I do it frequently, because I’m just uncool like that), but as a reader pointed out to me, since when has it ever been uncool for a woman to do the same?

A man’s desire to sleep with a woman is innate, needs no pretense, but as a male reader voiced to me, pretense can be sexy. In other words, any woman who has plans to sleep with a man should build anticipation by bragging just a little bit about what she can do and what she is going to do. I know some folks will say it’s un-lady like, and it should be noted all of these folks who say such a thing are ladies. What they don’t understand is it’s only un-lady like if done in an inappropriate place like church or something. But if it’s just me and her talking on the phone and making plans to hook up or in the moments before clothes come off, a little trash-talk is not only appropriate, but encouraged.

The Problem With Beautiful, Smart, Wonderful Women Is…

Their Underwear Never Matches

This is somewhat of a classic complaint, but that’s the problem. It’s only classic because it’s gone on for far too long.

Let’s be clear, just like I would never turn down a home given to me on the condition I could not paint over the ugly wall paper, I would never turn down what a woman is offering me after she takes off her underwear, even if they don’t match. But like a reader asked me, Wouldn’t it be nice if more women cared about matching their underwear? To which I said, It absolutely would be.

If ladies looked at underwear the same way  they look at gift wrapping paper, we probably wouldn’t have this problem. I know just because it’s all pretty on the outside, doesn’t mean I am going to like what’s on the inside. But the gifts wrapped in the high-quality paper are so much more fun to open than the ones wrapped in left over newspaper.

No real man will ever call things off just because the bra is red, the panties are tan, and the woman looks like Target is having an Employees-Wear-Their-Underwear Day, but as the reader pointed out to me, whenever a woman does wear matching underwear and a man goes back to tell his friends, he gets way more high-fives. Way more.

Categories: guys, s#x, women Tags:

How To Get The Girl In One Night

November 10th, 2009 8 comments

Author’s Note: This is what I would call literary sampling. The following post is inspired and influenced by Junot Diaz’s “How To Date A Brown Girl (Black Girl, White Girl, or Halfie)” from his collection of short stories, Drown.

If you’re staying in a hotel room with one of your boys, make sure to let him know how you plan to end the night. If he’s like you, he’s talking to a pretty young lady too, and trying to use the room for the same reasons you are. If he has a girl back home he doesn’t want to cheat on, but down for you like a good brother should be, he will find a way to stay out of your way. If he’s a hater, he will tell you to point her out, assess how pretty he thinks she is, and then from there determine whether or not he will find other sleeping arrangements. Once it’s been determined she meets the criteria, he will dap you up, and tell you to get back to her. Time is short and you still don’t know what the girl is thinking.

Make sure when you go back to her, you have a drink in your hand, but make sure it’s something with a low alcohol content, like a beer. At this point, you’re trying to sober up, because your natural game is better than your drunken, sloppy one. Hand her the bottled water you offered to buy her, because you saw all the other guys in the place buying her drinks earlier in the night and knew she didn’t need another. When you hand her the big, $4.00 bottle of water, try not to say under your breath, “You better drink every drop of that expensive water I just bought.”

Keep talking, comment on the music, the clothes she’s wearing, the people who can’t seem to pass by either of you without grazing a shoulder. If you’re real creative, make up a game on the spot. She’s going to think it’s corny, but she will appreciate your efforts to be original.

In the midst of the soft ball questions and observations, work on getting vital information like what hotel she’s staying at, what friends did she come with, when is she leaving. If she’s from the city you are visiting, ask her if she lives with her parents, by herself, or with roommates. Never ask if she is in a relationship or married. If she is in either of those situations, and they are important to her, she will let you know immediately. If she isn’t in a relationship or married, your question only serves as a reminder, and what single woman wants to be reminded they’re not in a relationship or they’re not married?

Once all the formalities have been taken care of, and you find out she is leaving tomorrow afternoon, she came here with one of her best friends, and her hotel is down the street and around the corner from the one you’re staying at, wait for a smile. Not the smile that comes with one of your jokes, but a smile without guard, one that she gives just by looking at you. You’ll be able to tell this smile by how many teeth she shows, assuming she’s not insecure about such things.

Proposition her gently and with charm. Don’t offer anything more than an opportunity to continue the good thing you two have going, because that’s what it’s halfway really about. You like her right now, you like her more than the promise of tomorrow. As a matter of fact, right now, you hate tomorrow, because you know that’s what’s coming whether she comes home with you or not.

If she’s a lady, she will tell you she doesn’t get down like that, and you will tell her you don’t usually drink like this, but it’s a special occasion. When she asks, “What’s the special occasion?” the question will be rhetorical and you will chuckle because you know you have a smart one on your hands.

When you say, “Let’s get out of here” she won’t say yes or no, she will repeat what you just said: “Let’s get out of here.” You will wait by the door while she goes to tell her friend where she’s going, and you will watch their conversation, trying to read the lips of her and her friend. At one point, she will point to you, her friend will then look at you, you will smile, wave, and while the friend will smile back, the friend’s smile won’t have any teeth in it. When the girl you’re leaving with comes back to you, she asks for your number so she can text it to her friend. You will oblige, and ask if there’s any other necessary precautions she will want to take because you want to make her feel her safe, comfortable.

On your way back to your hotel room, she will get a little nervous and say things like how she just met you and emphasize for the 100th time, she does not go to the rooms of strangers. And you will look her dead in the eyes, on the elevator up to your room and tell her, “All that stuff doesn’t really matter, just be cool. Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want to happen.” As your walking down the hall, you will tell her the difference between this time and all the other times, that this time is limited, and has been counting down from the moment you met.

All of this, you will add, is not game. All of this is true.

You will slide your key in the door, open it for her and let her in the room first so you can study for a moment how she walks. Then, she will sit on the bed and you will walk up to her and kiss her. Whether she kisses you back or not, steal a moment to text your boy with the following message: “I got the room tonight.”

Click here to read a sampling of Junot Diaz’s “How To Date A Brown Girl (Black Girl, White Girl, or Halfie)”

Click here to hear a podcast of Diaz reading the story

Categories: dating, game, women Tags:

On Persistence

November 9th, 2009 12 comments

A week ago, I was watching the movie, Love Jones for what is probably the 1,000th time. For those who haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor and Netflix it immediately (here, I’ll even give you the link to its Netflix page).

The most fascinating part of the film is near the end of the first act when Darius is pursuing Nina. Darius asks Nina for her contact information, to which she flat out rejects. Since the film takes place in the mid-90’s when having a cell phone was still only for rich people, and AOL chat rooms were considered the most sophisticated form of social networking media, Darius steals her information off a personal check.  Then, instead of calling the phone number (assuming Nina left one on the check), he shows up at her front door.

All of this takes place after Darius and Nina have only met twice: once at a poetry lounge a couple nights prior, and the coincidental run-in at the record store where Darius was rejected and Nina left the check.

When Darius shows up at Nina’s doorstep, she is shocked, but scared? Nope. She reluctantly invites him, in spite of his illegal and intrusive behavior, and to top things off, agrees to go out with Darius on a date that is nothing more than a friendly gathering.

If all of this sounds absolutely, 100 percent crazy, that’s because it is absolutely, 100 percent crazy.

I have always felt there needed to be a ticker running along the bottom of the screen that said “MEN DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME” the minute Darius shows up at Nina’s apartment because if I ever did this sort of thing in real life, I deserve to be arrested and so does any other man who tries to do the same thing.

While I can tip a hat to Darius’s efforts, I know better than to resort to his level in real life.

In real life, persistence is chasing a woman who wants to be caught, not wearing a woman down to the point where all her no’s turn to yes’s. What I want to work on is getting a woman to like me more, not getting a woman to like me at all. A woman with warm feelings towards me is only going to make me chase her for so long, and in my pursuit, she will always do just enough to keep me in the chase, something I like to call, “encouraging the ego.”

But what happens if  I am pursuing a woman who doesn’t like me?

Well, imagine if Nina was not into Darius at all. He would probably get the door shut in his face followed by a squadron of cop cars surrounding him and police barking out orders for Darius to put his hands where they could see them.

To me the difference between being persistent and being taken for the run-around is easily distinguished by one thing: a smiling face.

Categories: dating, guys, on something, women Tags:

James Cameron on Marriage

November 6th, 2009 14 comments

“Anybody can be a father or a husband. There are only five people in the world who can do what I do, and I’m going for that” – Linda Hamilton, quoting her ex-husband, director James Cameron.

In the October 26 issue of The New Yorker magazine, there is an exhausting profile on director James Cameron, he of Aliens, Terminator (1 and 2), Abyss, and Titanic fame. The story’s author, Dana Goodyear goes into great detail about not only Cameron’s filmography and career but his personal life as well. In an interview with Linda Hamilton (most fans will remember her for her role as Sarah Connor in the two Terminator films), who was once married to Cameron, she talks about what kind of man he was and in doing so recalls the quote I wrote above.

When I came across it, I just had to put down my magazine for a quick second and think about what I read.

As egotistical as Cameron’s quote is, he kind of has a point. After all, name nine other directors who has accomplished in their career what Cameron has in his, bet you only get to five. Even outside of film, where Cameron won Oscars and broke box office records for the same movie (Titanic), most men will never be able to reach a similar amount of success.

But what the quote really made me think about is the male ego and how we men, no matter how successful or unsuccessful we are, allow it to take over our lives and affect our common sense. Cameron would like to believe that women, as great as they are, are a distraction to accomplishing his goals. Most men at some point or another, believe the same thing. As my Pop once told me, Whatever you do, don’t fall in love too early. Go to school, get into college, graduate, then worry about her, whoever she is, later.

As good of a construction worker as my Pop was and as brilliant as he is, he was no James Cameron of construction. But I do believe he felt he could have been were it not for letting his love for women who came in his life, and having children with a couple of them, get in his way.

The differences between my Pop and someone like Cameron are probably an ocean wide, but when Cameron said this quote, I realized no matter how different two men are, women will always be the great equalizer.  The quote made me think: If I want to be as successful as Cameron is, must I choose my career over being a good husband or father like he has? If I don’t, will I end up like my Pop, a talented, but frustrated construction worker who coached my little league team?

But then I thought about men who have done a pretty good job at being both career-focused and family-focused, men like, Barack Obama. From the looks of it he’s a pretty good father to his two daughters and a good husband to his wife. He’s also President of the United States and won a Nobel Peace Prize. And though I don’t think there’s even five people in the world who can do that, myself included, it’s worth a shot.

If interested, click here to read “Man of Extremes: The Return of James Cameron”

Categories: guys, quotables, women Tags:

Why I Am No Longer Using The 10-Point Rating System

November 5th, 2009 21 comments

Don’t get me wrong, nothing is more universal than the 10-point rating system for women and whoever came up with it deserves, at the very least, an Apple “Think Different” poster. He is also, easily, on my Top 5 list of people’s whose hand I would like to shake.

Ever since I learned how to count, I have applied the 10-point rating system to every woman I see, meet, get with, and break up with. If I’m having a difficult time describing how fine the woman I saw at the supermarket was, I give her a number. “Maaaaan, she was at least a 9,” I’ll tell my boys. If I met a woman under the influence in a dimly lit bar only to meet her again for lunch in a well-lit eatery, and she looks drastically different than how I remember, again, I go to the 10-point rating system.  “Maaaan, when I met her, I could’ve sworn she was at least an 8. Then we had lunch, and it turns out she’s a 6.5 and I’m only giving her the point-five because she went dutch with me.”

Yes, for me, the 10-point rating system has been like a calculator — a shortcut to the grand total of a woman’s specific perfections and flaws. Thing is, every man’s calculator is wired differently, which is why I am moving to a 5-point rating system.

The problem with the 10-point system is I have never gone past a 6, and when I did, it was never a compliment because all it really ever said was, “Only on my drunkest, loneliest night.” Thus, if I haven’t ever really gone past a 6, what are numbers 1-5 for? On a scale of 1-10, I never go lower than a 5, because I know it would only make me a 10-point jerk. Only once have I heard a man go to a 5, and as I recall, it was because she had nine toes and a bad weave, which is totally unfair. Every woman has a bad weave once or twice in her life, that is no reason to give her a 5.

This is why a 5-point rating system is more than adequate, because with it, lines are clearly drawn. Allow me to break it down:

1 – I would never ever

2 – I would never

3 – I would, probably, maybe (It should be noted, most women will fall here)

4 – I would

5 – I would right now, tomorrow, and if we would’ve met yesterday, then, too.

See how easy that is?

Not only does the 3 help make a clear distinction between the haves and the wishes-they-had-its, but for the haves, it cuts down on a lot of the hyperbole men usually like to give to women who are an 8 and above on the 10-point scale.

No man would do something to a 10, they wouldn’t do to an 8, and the difference between an 8, 9, and 10 usually comes down to something outside of looks, like how good she can make a grilled cheese sandwich. The other problem with a 10? Whenever a man gives it to a woman, it only encourages his friends to pick said 10 apart brutally, which is unfair to her.

If anything, I am now reserving the 10 for those women who, on the old rating system, I called an 11. On the 5-point system, those women — the Halle Berry-types I only see every few months or so — can be given a 10, which is to say, they’re twice as fine as any 5 I see.

This system is much better.

Someone needs to get me an Apple Think Different poster too.

Categories: game, guys, women Tags:

Warning: Read Fine Print Before Dating My Unemployed A**

November 4th, 2009 13 comments

Three months ago when I started this blog, one of the first posts I ever wrote was an entry entitled, “Women, Unemployment and Me” (click here to read). In it, I wrote a promise to my readers, and to myself that until I found a job, I would not take out any women I met while unemployed.

Yeah, about that promise…

Who was I kidding? At the time, unemployment was still a new thing to me and nothing I was used to, thus I presumed dating was out of the question. The way I saw it, the ladies were an expense I couldn’t afford, and besides, I went from being the fly editor at a fly music magazine living in the big city to a FORMER fly editor at a FORMER fly music magazine living in the big city.

Suffice to say, while I have remained fly, the promise I made to myself has been broken so many times, it’s beyond repair. I have dated since the day after I wrote that post, and while the women I have met have all been great, I, on the other hand, have been mediocre at best.

To be clear, this is not a pity party I am throwing myself. I have always cared about being a better person with or without a job, but with or without a job, I’ve always been a handful. Just ask any woman who dated me then.

Three months into my unemployed life, I am somebody totally different. I don’t know if I’m better or worse, but I know now I am a lot heavier than a handful. Am I still dateable? I’d like to think so, but there is a lot more fine print than their used to be. But since nobody reads the fine print because it’s so small, I have decided to write it a little bit bigger and put it on display.


No man should let their career dictate who they are as a person, after all with or without a job, I’m still a man. But for five years — from the first month after I graduated college up until June of this year — I woke up most Mondays-Fridays ready, willing, and able to go into the office and work. That sort of consistency will get into the fabric of anybody’s being, so when I say I am not myself, it’s only because I am not doing what I have been used to doing for approximately 1,825 days. This guy who wakes up every morning and doesn’t go to the office, who doesn’t get a check every 1st and 15th is new. So excuse me while we get to know one another a little better.


The great rapper Tupac Shakur once famously proclaimed, “money over bitches.” Poor language aside, this man had his priorities in order.  As much as I love to hang out with women, there’s only so much time I can give them before I want to break away and get back on my computer to write, email, and research. And that urge can strike at a moment’s notice, which leads me to the third thing.


This has been said to me by more than one woman. Very unfortunate. Also, very true.


Just think about anything that costs money and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be involved.  These days I barely want to turn on a light in my apartment.


If what you just read made you think, Does that mean sex too? You’re gross and you’re right. But I also mean other things like, you know, having fun. I’m horrible at that, unless your idea of fun is playing games like Uno at the local community center.

Categories: dating, guys, unemployment, women Tags:

Situationship, Isness, And The Relationship Thesaurus

November 3rd, 2009 12 comments

Because this is what it is with a capital isness.

From Phillip Roth’s, The Human Stain, a story that explores the ambiguous boundaries between truth and falsehood.

Situationship: (1) Any problematic relationship characterized by one or more unresolved, interpersonal conflicts. Usually confused with dating. (2) A relationship that enters solely due to extenuating circumstances. All rebounds, for example, are situationships.

Definition courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

For those who have never heard or read the words above, you’re welcome. I read Roth’s line a couple months back in an excerpt featured in Esquire. “Situationship” was a word introduced to me last week after somebody used it on Twitter. The reason I have both quoted is to show how one (Roth’s “isness”) is used for a creative purpose, but the second one (“situationship”, which is also creative) has been ordained by no less of an authority than the Urban Dictionary, which can only mean one thing: People are actually using it to describe serious situations, which made me think, If it wasn’t used in a song, what smart dumb person actually came up with the word and decided to toss it into the urban lexicon for future use?

Situationship has to be the saddest word I have heard being used to describe the state of a relationship between two people, ranking right up there with wifey and baby-mama. I will acknowledge the word is a clever mash-up  of “situation” and “relationship”, but whoever keeps on using it and trying to make it sound like something real is a straightupidiot.

I don’t have a problem with the actual word. As a writer, I actually enjoy the occasional witty turns of phrase our young people come up with. Matter of fact, I might even use one of them on occasion. For example: I have swagger for days, which is to say I have charisma, or am disarmingly charming. Certain mash-ups are also okay and have been around for years, e.g. boyfriend and girlfriend.

But what I cannot stand is when people want to make up words as a cop out to the truth. Words like “situationship” and “wifey” (to me, this has always translated to a  combination of the words, “wife, maybe”) are nothing more than game and sad substitutes for more honest words and phrases. Situationship is the funniest because  it shows someone has actually found a way to put an official title on an unofficial arrangement between two people. Anyone who uses it to describe the gray area between themselves and another person, is either denying a gray area actually exists or convincing themselves it is okay. Sort of similar to the way men use the word wifey to describe a woman they would like to marry but probably never will.

Back in my younger days, I used words like wifey and baby-mama (for others, remember I have no children) because I thought they were cool adjectives, but when I realized most people who were older than me and had a college education didn’t know what they meant, I decided my vocabulary needed to grow up. Another major factor contributing to the maturation of my speak was when I realized all these words we have made up often times spawn more questions than answers. We’d like to think they explain how we feel and what we feel, when they actually do neither, and sometimes it’s just easier to “call a spade a spade”, to borrow another classic phrase.

Real adults, at least the ones who are smart and honest, do just that. If they’re not in a relationship with a person, but they are dating, they won’t say, “Oh, me and this girl have been kicking it hard, we’re in a situationship.” Even someone like me, who stays in a situationship, would never actually use the word at least, not seriously.

There’s nothing wrong with having fun on the account of the English language. Whether your name is RL and you used to sing in a group called Next, or you’re a renowned author named Phillip Roth. Our language is made to manipulate. But to make up words and add them to a relationship thesaurus, just so we can feel better about what is or isn’t going on between us and another person is doing ourselves a disservice. Made up words and mashed up words are best used for creative purposes only, and if  we ever have the urge to resort to them in any type of serious conversation, we have probably come to the point where what we say isn’t quite true and our words should probably give way to action.

Categories: game Tags:

Warning To The Women Who Date My Friends

November 2nd, 2009 26 comments

There’s a popular belief that men don’t want to see their friends settle down or fall in love with a woman. This popular belief is similar to the one about Santa Claus.

It’s just not true.

I may not promote love, marriage, or commitment. If a man is single, it’s on him to choose when not to be. But for my closest friends who do get in the ring and fight the good fight with one woman for an extended amount of time, I stay posted in their corner like a prize fighter’s cut man. All of my boys know, if ever they need someone to talk to about their woman woes, they can talk to me. Not because I have all the answers, but because I pass no judgment. If they’re happy with their woman, I’m happy for them.

Of course, the opposite is also true. If they’re not happy with their woman, largely because the woman isn’t acting right or has done something foul to him, I take matters into my own hands.

None of my boys have ever asked me to say something on their behalf to a woman. They all fight their own battles, which is something all men should do. But whenever I meet the new lady in my friend’s life, I always take it upon myself to let her know not only who I am, but what I am willing to do for my best friends. Like I protect my younger sister from wack dudes who don’t mean well, I too am my brother’s keeper. They may not be blood, but they’re the closest thing to it, so I tell the woman something like this:

Look, you know my boy really likes you, right? Seriously, I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never seen him act this way about anyone. He’s a good guy too. I’m sure you know that, I mean, why else would you be with him right?


But look, just so we’re clear I want you to understand something. You better not hurt him. Okay? I know you’re probably thinking, What about him? He better not hurt me. And trust me, I may not know you, but in everyone’s best interest, I will do my best to see to it that he treats you right.

What you need to worry about is being on your job, because if you’re not on your job and I find out you’ve done him wrong or did some scandalous stuff, I’m going to do everything within my power to make sure he drops you like a bad habit, but that’s not all. I’m also going to get with one of your best friends, one of your girl’s you practically call a sister, and break her heart like you broke my boy’s heart.

I don’t care what she looks like, as a matter of fact, if she’s not that cute, it’s even better, because we all know unattractive women are easier to manipulate. But that’s neither here nor there, just know, if you do something wrong to my boy, and I find out (you know he won’t tell me, men don’t do that, but I’ll find out anyway), watch your best friend’s back because I will get with her, get her hopes up and then drop her like I will make my boy drop you. If I do my job right, your shoulder will be soaked and sore  from all the crying she does on it.

I know it sounds mean, I know it sounds harsh, but I am my brother’s keeper.

Just remember that, and everything should be fine. Enjoy each other. I’m happy for both of you.

Categories: cheating, dating, guys, women Tags: