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Door Courtesy

Coming up, I was taught chivalry. Chivalry will get you respected by
the opposite sex and get you closer than the next guy when it comes
to the hunt. Amongst the many rules one I often finds myself thinking
on how to approach… the act of opening the door for a lady. It may
seem petty, but this small act or lack thereof can get complicated. For
instance how do open a revolving door? For fast food restaurants, do
you open the first door then run in front of them to get the next?
Miscues can get you cut eyes and maybe even a Neverary 32nd date.
The following is the outcome of a month long sting investigation.

The Double Door-

Believe it or not, I had a woman give me the side eye because I
didn’t run to the second set of doors to open it. This is right after
I opened the entrance door just two seconds ago. (B**** you could’ve
slowed up!) Needless to say I don’t hang with her anymore. If you are
concerned about how to spin this into a chivalrous act, open the first
door with you in front of her. Then get her attention with something
random. Crack a quick joke or  touch her on the hand. While she’s
looking at you, use your special multitasking skills to grab the next
door to let her in.

Automatic Opening Door-

Really? Them shits open for you. But some women still feel a need to be let
in first. I say by all means. It gives us a great view of dat ass anyway.

The Revolving Door-

Just let her go first. I try to control the speed of the door. Why?     

Cause I can.

Subway Door-

I live in NYC so fend for yourself biatch!

Elevator Door-

Let them go in first and let them off first. Why? See automatic door.

Slide Doors-

Slide then step aside.

I think that covers it all. If you choose to go the “knight in shining armor” route,
follow the above. Guy code guidelines do apply here as well… for the love of all
that surrounds us, please do not waste such chivalry on the unworthy.

Yeah I said it.


Old Dude in The Club

“all the 80s babies put your hands in the air”

A strange thing happened to me when I went to an after work event last week.
I found out that I was the old dude in the club. How? I guess it would be my
reactions to certain instances.

First off I went with two lady friends that did not leave my side. Not
because they needed my protection or anything crazy, but more of in
the event of us leaving they know where I am. The atmosphere was cool.
“Grown and Sexy” if you will. Strange, the crowd mirrored me 5 years ago,
working in the city, letting off some steam by drinking cheap booze and
grinding on strangers. I was into the crowd, and wanted to jump on the
next young thing and try my luck.

As I watched my companions ignore the advances of the drunk sweaty
dude in a Tshirt, I notice the girls watching me. Not in a come dance
with me way, but in a “what’s his deal?” sorta way. Maybe it’s because
I had my friend buy me drinks as soon as we got in the club. Hmm was
I broke or did I have it like that. Either way curiosity was sparked. The
dudes were tryna make me out too. I ignored the broke willies and bopped
my head to the tracks of their lives.

Ack. I hate rap these days.

After the third song professing a dance of some sort I picked up my
shit and left. I used to enjoy going out and seeing people dance. In just
a short 5 yrs I became the dude that’ll rather smoke cigars and eat steaks
at a restaurant than go to a club. I past my dry hump stage. Women are a
dime a dozen. For once I can say I’m good.

Being 30 ain’t bad. Not bad at all.


When Garanimals Attack

I’ve stayed quiet on this whole Perez Hilton and Will I Am spat
for I wanted to see how the public would handle the situation.
For those unfamiliar with the story it goes as such…

(The following conversation paraphrased for fun. Feel free to add funny voices.)

Will - Yo I don’t like your last review of my album.
PH – Well sucks to be you. The shits trash.
Will - I aint playing man. I don’t want to see my group on your
blog anymore or there gonna be some problems.
PH - Pulease Willie Boy. You suck as an artist and you’re no
longer relevant. Why don’t you write a song or do a
dance move somewhere?
Will – Yo word up, I’m for real. Stop publishing bad press
about my crew. We need these album sales to finish
Ferg’s reconstructive surgery. She’s almost acceptable.
(writer’s note: Sorry I had to throw in a jab)
PH – Get out of my face You F*CKin F*ggot!

<<<OK Now Pause>>>

As I see it if any man calls a heterosexual man a slur such as
“F*ggot” you should prepare for a slap or worse. Ok Continue.

(SLAP!!!!!!) Followed by crying, twitting and a 5 + minute video
blog on how violence is never an answer to a disagreement.

<<<Ok Pause again>>>

Now you would think that the ounce of blackness that Will I Am
has, other than his shuck and jive dance moves, would have
forced his hand upside Perez’s face.

You would think. NOOOOOOOOOO.Will left that job for his manager
to do. Riddle me this…Who is in greater fault…The queer dude
calling the straight guy queer expecting not to get slapped,
or the straight guy having this dispute settled physically by his manager?

Here’s a little advice for you both. Not that you’ll listen to the rants of
a dude who can read the situation better than the fluffed up media circus.

Perez – Did you really think you wasn’t gonna get slapped?
I mean, c’mon. You was in his face fam. AND you called him
what you are - a pink haired, feminine talking, queen. You lucky
you didn’t get choked out. Furthermore, people get slapped
everyday without having the police being called on them. In the
real world, Perez, there are real repercussions for harsh words.
You are not special. Everyone can get touched.

Will I Had – You disappoint me. Why? Because that open
hand slap should’ve come from you, not your manager. You
flexed your trump card (black intimidation) and destroyed your
nut sack in the process. Even if your man did it out of respect
for the BEP, you should’ve acted as the leader you are and slapped
the sh*t out of him yourself. I didn’t like you guys before, now I
like you even less. I suggest get back to your brilliant production
skills and leave the thuggin’ to the 50 Cent’s of the world.

Overall this situation reminds me of the 2 sissy kids in
the schoolyard fighting. All that slapping for nothing.

Can’t we all just get along? 


The Crutch

So there you have it. Hip Hop? The epitome of Style aka SWAGGER has created its own demise. Relevancy is as current as the now. Not then. It’s not about hating, tastes, or even skill. It’s about how it’s carried. That’s why we have Lindsey Lohan’s and Paris Hiltons in the world to. People love people in the spotlight no matter how wack they are. These guys are just Hip Hop’s pop illusionist. People who claim to be changing the world but are really broke frauds trying to keep what doe they have buy telling you how well off they are.Don’t believe me? I double dog dare you to Listen Soulja Boy’s “Turn my Swag On”. He basically screams annoyingly lazy and drags the words over a hard beat.

“im back againnnnn,
i know a lot of yall thought i wasn’t coming back…..
yeeeeea, yeeeeea
i had to prove them wronggggg,
got back in tha studio and came up with another hit
yeeeeea, yeeeeea”

Am I wrong for wanting to be entertained intellectually? I find myself listening to the non-Hip Pop artists just to get a lyric fix. Sometimes in an attempt to stay separate from the Pop stuff, they go way left field with the beats. I remember when I was producing a group they tried to change their image by dumbing down their content. I was shocked that they would put their artistic integrity on the line to sell records, which they never did after the change. Hmm. Hop Pop dumbs down lyrics,Hip Hop over compensates to stay “pure”. Fucked up but it makes sense. But in all the BEAT is still King! The Ultimate Crutch!!!!!!


Bathroom Line (A Stress Blog on the run)

Is there etiquette to the bathrooms at lounges? Most lounges in NYC have a happy hour which roughly starts around 4pm and goes to 8pm. By then, if you are like me, you a proper fuct staggering to through the now crowded alley of a lounge looking for the can. Boom! The line appears. 10 people fidgeting looking into space trying to ignore their bladder’s call for relief. I found my remedy for ignoring my bladder and the surrounding party crowd by typing this post. It may look like I’m tryna look important, but hey it is what it is. The fuck am I supposed to do, strike up a conversation with the girl next to me hopping on one foot. (Ha, she’s trying to read what I’m writing).

5 mins on this line and I’m finally at the front of the line waiting for one of the two unisex bathrooms to free up. This is an awkward position. Everyone on the line eyes you. “Damn I wish I was there.” “I got to piss.” “Why doesn’t that guy knock on the door to get them out of there.” “Hope he doesn’t do a number two.” How do I know that’s what their saying? Easy, that’s what I was thinking when I wasn’t in front. Whew. As I write this sentence in the can. (finally) I realize that I’m really foul. Not in the sense of the bodily functions, but the fact that I’m already done and I’m writing a freakin blog entry in the can. Damn. The next in line is probably wondering what I’m doing. With that said, here are my top five no no’s of the lounge bathroom line:

#1 - Don’t blog in the john! (LOL)
#2 - Try to keep you cool on line no matter how bad you gots to go. Someone is always looking?laughing.
#3 - Keep line convos to a minimum, unless you know the person or tryna get them to join you in the john. Anything other than that is just weird.
#4 - Try not to stare into space. Half the time you look like a Forrest Gump waiting in line to meet the President.
#5 - When you get in the can. Do your do and leave asking God to not return to the line.


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