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Archive for the ‘game’ Category

Five Things A Woman Should Have At Her Place

February 11th, 2010 54 comments

“I got Alize at my house. I don’t drink Alize, but b*tches do.”– Katt Williams

All men have something at their place to help set the mood with the female company they entertain. Maybe it’s a bottle of Alize, like Katt Williams, or maybe it’s a copy of Clueless. Incense and candles are also common. The whole point of these things is to get a woman to feel comfortable enough to sleep with us.


Women, on the other hand, never seem to have the comforts for men to enjoy.This is not to say I need certain things to get me in the mood. Trust me, the mere sight of the woman is going to be enough. But what a woman does need to provide for me is comfortable distractions.

Every time I want to leave a woman’s house, she wants to know why. Well, it’s not because I don’t like her. It’s because her place is boring as hell or it’s missing certain things I need.

Comfortable distractions can serve one of two purposes. For the women who invite me over for some platonic company, who don’t want to sleep with me, comfortable distractions are a great way to keep me focused on something other than her body. For the women who do invite me over to sleep with them, but would like me to stay for a while afterward, comfortable distractions will help me stay put. They won’t distract me from her, but they will distract me from what’s going on outside of her four walls.

Women, I’m sorry to say, are not enough sometimes. They, like me and my brethren, need to have the comforts too.

So ladies, consider this my Valentine’s Day gift to all of you. Five things you should have in your place to get a man to come over and stay a little while longer. Happy

Valentine’s Day.

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Why Girlfriends Matter

February 10th, 2010 33 comments

I can’t recall if it was a man or a woman who said it. Maybe it was both. But I do remember the first time I heard someone say being somebody’s girlfriend doesn’t really matter. And I do remember thinking, Wow, that’s wrong.

I don’t have a girlfriend right now. Haven’t for a while now, and to be honest, sometimes that matters. Sometimes it makes me think of the girls who I could have made my girlfriend, but because I knew I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend, I didn’t ask them. It sounds like a cop out, I know, but trust me it isn’t. I was a professional boyfriend for a long time, but I was so bad at it, I’ve been demoted to professional bachelor until further notice.

Still, my time spent with girlfriends past mattered then and it matters now.

Girlfriends, all of them, matter.

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Bring Back The Slow Dance

January 26th, 2010 33 comments

Men, when’s the last time you slow danced with a woman?

I’m trying to remember myself. Maybe it was at my friend’s New Year’s wedding. But before then, I have no recollection of the last time I took a woman’s right hand, put it in mine; took my left arm, wrapped it around her waist, and together, we shuffled our feet in a slow clockwise circle.

The first time I slow danced was in 6th grade, and it was definitely a big deal. I had no idea what I was doing, and the entire Boyz II Men song the girl and I danced to sounded like mush to my ears. All I cared about was not stepping on the girls feet, and to prevent such a catastrophe, I put both my hands around her waist, and kept her arms length away from me. The way I danced with her it was as though she had cooties.

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PBS And Service Dating

January 22nd, 2010 16 comments

Anyone used to watch the show Blind Date? Roger Lodge was the MAN, wasn’t he? I bring this up not because I’m watching television at 2 a.m. and nothing else is on, but because I’m thinking about first dates. Good ones. And nobody had better, more creative dates, than Roger Lodge and his team.

Blind Date proved dating is an art form. Inspired by my memory of this classic show, I present the downsides and upsides of two different dating genres I plan to incorporate into my own dating life.

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I Like A Lot of Girls

January 14th, 2010 27 comments

I like a lot of girls.

Japan, Los Angeles, D.C., Boston, Mississippi, Milwaukee, Philadelphia, Harlem, Brooklyn, Dominican Republic, New York. The girls I like are everywhere. They’re far away and down the street. Sometimes right in front of me, and sometimes on the peripherals. Out of sight, but on my mind. Out of mind, but in my sight. In my dreams, in my bed, on my phone and on my screen. Everywhere.

And all of that, all of that is just hard sometimes. I like them all at once, and one at a time. Seems impossible, I know, but trust me, it’s very possible. As a matter of fact, it’s too easy. My heart sometimes acts as a magnet for feelings that come from more than one woman at the same time, and like a kid trying not to laugh when they’re telling a fib, I’m a man trying not to feel when I’m telling a girl how I, well, feel. Of course I like the girl, but of course I like others. Actually I like to like them, and some would call that being a romantic but I don’t. I call it the ugly beauty of being single and social: Meet a lot of great women and in the midst of these chance encounters, get blind sided by a few who really know how to get liked back.

For the sake of clarity, what I’m not talking about is random hook ups and one night stands. I’m talking about liking more than one person at one time. It’s really that simple, and yet, people want to act like a heart comes whole; like it can’t be split off into bits, pieces, slices and slivers. If liking more than one person at one time makes me a player, pass me the ball.

I like a lot of girls. And a lot of girls like me back, but with all of them,  we have this unspoken agreement they can like other guys too. Especially those who don’t live anywhere near me. They can make out, sleep with, go out with, cake with any guy not named Jozen and I can’t really have a problem with it. But I kind of, sort of, definitely, absolutely do. Kind of one day, sort of the next, definitely the day after, and absolutely usually by the end of the week. It all depends on how I feel and sometimes, it depends on how they feel about me too. Because liking a girl is one thing, but when the girls like me back, we are headed to the problem land.

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The Ultimate Compliment

January 5th, 2010 25 comments


That right there is the ultimate compliment.

For far too long, we have glorified the age-old adage, “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.” The only people to whom that applies are the people who have already established they have a mutual attraction to what’s on the outside, so much so they’re willing to give the ultimate compliment to no one else but each other.

I have heard a lot of nice things said to me. As a matter of fact, I once wrote a post about some of the most memorable compliments I ever received. But when I think about all the compliments women have said to me over the years, none of them come close to the feeling I get when a woman wants to have sex with me.

Maybe it’s because I still remember my virgin days like they were yesterday. Back then, I used to think women only have sex with the best looking guys because that’s all I saw on TV. I thought, In order for a woman to have sex with me, she has to like me enough and think I’m cute enough. It took me 17 years before I met a girl who thought I was both of those things at the same time, which says a lot about my teenage years, but I digress.

After I lost my virginity, I got hip to the game, and realized sometimes I don’t even need to be that cute to the girl, I just have to be there. Or, sometimes, I can be a complete jerk and a woman will be so turned on by my jerk-ish ways, she actually will want to sleep with me more than the nice guy buying her drinks.

But even in those instances, when a woman has decided it is I she will be making faces with solely because she feels like it and not because I look like her crush, there is a compliment being paid to me. I may not be all that, but I’m good enough, and there are a lot of people in the world who are good enough, but not more good enough than me. Add on to that the vulnerability of sex, how it involves our most covered up areas, ones we don’t show to the world, but only a precious few, and the entire experience makes for one big giant compliment.

It’s an act of pleasure, of course, but it’s also an act that says, “I want to feel good with you and you with me.” No matter how casual or mindless the affair, and no matter how many people we exchange this compliment with, when one thinks about all the people we meet with whom we don’t want to have sex, people we don’t even want to see in sweaters and jeans let alone t-shirts and underwear, the fact that someone wants to have sex with any of us is mighty nice of them.

And yet, women still want to question a man’s motives whenever he asks her to come over or he’s trying to get her alone. A woman will tell a man there is more to them than just sex, and if he cannot keep his hands to himself while they’re watching a movie, he isn’t being respectful of her. How dare he want more than just her company while watching this movie. How dare he try to take her into his bedroom where there is no television and no movies can be seen. Doesn’t he know she is a complete being, filled with feelings, emotions, and intelligent thoughts? Why can’t he see what’s on the inside, instead of trying to get in the inside?

Okay, I totally get that. A woman has so much more to offer me than just her body and I respect women more than anyone will give me credit for, but when I want to have sex with her, I actually am respecting her, in the form of a compliment. Just follow me here…

If I just want to talk to a woman about things like the weather and Obama’s health care plan, it is a fool proof sign that I don’t want to have sex with her. And why wouldn’t I want to have sex with her?


She’s not cute enough for me to want to have sex with her.

How uncomfortable does that make any of us feel? Even if the woman wasn’t ever thinking about having sex with me, I’m pretty sure she would like to believe I would want to have sex with her given the opportunity. But I don’t. I don’t because I don’t want to see what’s underneath her clothes, and there is honestly, nothing respectful about that. Or maybe there is, but really it’s just respect by default. There’s nothing on it.

In my opinion, true respect is both complimentary and understanding. True respect is when I make a move on a woman and when she tells me to slow my roll, I slow my roll. It is not when I treat a woman like my sister or my mother, because I have never felt good when a woman tells me she sees me as a big brother. Sure, such praise is a testament to how nice of a guy I am, but it’s also a testament to the fact that she will never, ever, in a million years, want to see or feel me naked.

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For The Good Guys Who Lose To The Bad Guys: A Resolution

December 11th, 2009 19 comments

I didn’t title this post Shaky Dating Advice, but I did file it under the category, because it is, well…read on.

A couple of days ago, I was talking to a female friend of mine. She, a well-educated, very successful young professional, was telling me about some guy she was dating. This guy had his own car, which in New York City is somewhat of a remarkable feat, and took her to the finest restaurants, plays, and other expensive activities. This guy paid for everything. But now this guy is in jail. Why? He dealt drugs.

“So you’re still doing that,” I asked rhetorically. “Still dating them bad boys?”

I was shocked not because she was dating a thug but because she was over-25 dating a thug. And even though I don’t want the girl myself it irritated me to think  some good guy out there was losing to guys like the one she was dating.

In college, I was one of those good guys who despised the bad boys because every girl I liked seemed to like them. To me, it didn’t make sense that a woman who either wasn’t from the streets or removed herself from the streets, would go back to the streets to find her Prince Charming.

But I have outgrown such petty jealousy. Women should date who they want, bad boys included, and though it doesn’t make any sense to me whatsoever, no thug is leaving me hurting. Let’s not forget, even a woman who dates a bad boy can see the appeal in a man like me.

It took me years before I finally stopped tripping over high-quality, take-them-home-to-mom type women who wouldn’t choose me over the type of guy whose  career goals include getting furloughed. The sad thing is, I know the battle between good boys and bad boys is still being waged out there. And as someone who has always fought on the side of good, I must continue to stand up for all the men who lose a woman to the bad boys, and for them, I have a resolution.

Before I lay my resolution out, let me just say this: I know a lot of these guys I’m calling bad boys personally. Some are my friends, some are in my family, and I have nothing against them. They are, for better or worse, good guys to their women, or at the very least, no worse than the self-proclaimed good men who don’t break the law, but do break some hearts. So please spare me the whole bad-boys-can-treat-their-women-good-too lectures. I’ve seen them do it, I know they can.

What this really is about is getting the good guys to understand they don’t need to be pre-occupied with finding their female equivalent. If you’re a good guy who is always losing the good girl to a bad boy, date a bad girl. And when I say a bad girl, I don’t mean a woman who is in the streets. I mean a woman who is on the pole.

Yep, that’s right, I’m suggesting all the men out there who are tired of losing their good women to thugs start fighting back by dating an exotic dancer or two. If a well-educated, high-class woman with a promising career wants to date a man who goes to school on street corners, then you, as a man, are entitled to date a woman who takes dance lessons at clubs with the word “Lace” in their name.

Not only is it fair, but it makes way more sense for a man to date a stripper than it does a woman to date a bad boy because stripping is 100 percent legal. Being a bad boy, for the most part, isn’t.

Other positives of dating a stripper include: financially independent; works late hours so you can always hang out with your boys; they’re generally nice women. If a man can find a way to get over the fact that one of her job requirements is to get naked in a room full of strangers night after night after night, he’s in a good place.

Of course, I would never do such a thing, but that’s only because I have found a way to not care so much about the women who want to date bad boys over me. I’m just saying, for those men out there who having trouble coming to grips with the good women who want to date the bad boys, take my advice: Date the strippers. They’re bad, but in a good way.

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

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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.

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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.

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