we were lied to.

you see, as youngsters, most of us were told that life was fair. ingrained in us from that first kindergarten kickball game when ms. edwards split the teams evenly so that aspergers alex and short-foot shawn wouldn’t hafta be on the same squad, we’ve been told that if you played by the rules, ate your veggies and kissed your janky looking teachers aide mom on the lips at least once a day, everything would be ok.

as we grew older and more worldly, we began to realize that the apples we placed on ms edwards desk everyday apparently just kept her stock-full of sh*t. life isn’t fair, jim jones still exists, and the pittsburgh steelers continue to prove that pittsburghers are just inherently better at everything...a fact which really isn’t fair to everyone else.

thing is, despite our knowledge of the latent unfairness and inequality synonymous with human life, there’s one aspect of our existence that many of us still hope will be even and balanced and just and exactly like that kickball game, except, of course, without short-foot shawn running in circles because he can’t make right turns. yet, as an example of one of lifes more darkly humorous ironies, this hope is kept for the one aspect of our existence that will never be completely even.

fair? maybe. just? ha! even? hell the f*ck no.

i’m referring, of course, to romantic relationships.

70-30

60-40

52-48

50.1-49.9

pick your percentage. there’s literally billions, trillions of different ways to add to 100. just know that it will never, ever, ever be 50-50.

never.

there’s always going to be someone who loves a tiny bit more, who has a bit more invested than the other person, and who has a larger emotional capacity than the person they’re in the relationship with. things will never be 50-50. someone will always have the final say, and someone will always possess the virtual perpetual tie-breaker sitting on top of the elephant in the room.

that utopic vision of a life replete with equal salaries, equal libido, equal responsibility, and equal say, with everyday culminating with the perfect o where you both climax at the exact same time while staring at the exact same spot in each others eyes? ha! that’s more contrived and unbelievable than this new subway promotion (thanks c.f.)

thing is…this isn’t a bad thing. sure, you dont want to be in a situation where you’re willing to die for someone who still has you listed in their phone as “samia safenut“, but every human relationship has the same dynamic: someone always the upper-hand. shit even in business, there’s always one stakeholder who owns a tiny bit more of the company than everyone else. the difference can be one half of one percentage point, but that number is enough to give him the trump card if the hand ever gets to that point…and its for our own benefit.

without this in place, life would be nothing but a series of continual stalemates and tie scores. billions of people stuck at forks in the road, stagnant for eons because they couldnt decide between chinese or mexican food that night. a world full of people with jagged genitals because they’ve spent their entire lives sitting on fences contemplating sh*t instead of leading or being led.

so…what do to? just make sure you’re not aspergers alex out there trying to play dodgeball with roger clemens, catching fastballs and sh*t with your what remains of your teeth, and you should be good.

hmmm…maybe ms edwards knew what she was doing after all.

—the champ

So the discussion about women having a thug phase got me to thinking about the fact that people tend to have types.

Correction.  We have what we think are our types and the folks that we actually end up with.  I’ve come to the conclusion that normally the folks that we think we want and who we tend to end up don’t generally coincide.  Like I said, for a time Esther Baxter look-a-likes were my type, but I can honestly say that I’ve yet to date a woman like Esther Baxter.

For shame.

Somebody hand me a shoulder to cry on.

*Liz handing me a shoulder*

Thanks.

Anyway, a while back somebody pointed me to this email with this “article” about relationship radars.  Actually its more a question and advice column :

Q: I’m very concerned about my daughter. She is very strong and successful in many areas of her life except one. She keeps picking guys that are just no good for her. She even knows she does it and just can’t seem to stop. I even took her to see the musical “Why Good Girls Like Bad Boys.” She thought it was funny, saw herself in it, and still can’t seem to change. Is she the only one like this? How can she stop what she is doing to herself?

I see lots and lots of women and men with this kind of pattern

There’s even a name for it, and

Think back to the last time you watched The Weather Channel or the local weather on the news. Remember how the radar was able to pick up the storms and lock onto them? Well, each of us has an internal radar that picks up and locks in on certain kinds of people.

I call this process our “relationship radar.” If we are lucky, and/or if we have worked at it, our radar picks out people who are potentially good for us, and things work out.

Unfortunately some folks have faulty relationship radar that predictably chooses people who will eventually cause them pain. Here’s what I mean: if your daughter were to go to a party with 100 guys and there were two of them that were her “type”, her faulty relationship radar would pick them out in about five minutes tops. She would even find the other good guys “boring” or just “too nice.”

How many of us know men and women who constantly pick the wrong types?  Hell, how many of you are dating the very person you hoped you’d never date?  Actually, many of us on here seem very self-aware and prone to not dealing with non-sense.

Good d*mn job.

Anyway, the concept of the relationship radar got me to thinking about my own.  I definitely  have had a type.  If there was a crazy broad within 3 feet of me, I was attracted to her (assuming she was attractive, ugly attracted broads don’t really do it for me).

And when I say crazy, I mean the chick who swears she won’t get into Heaven without me by her side, which, if you think about it, would further her crazy since we all know I’ve got enough Hell points to ensure that I get to ride a G5 to Hell.

Crazy chicks of all type were running amok in Panama’s City.  Word.Life.

At some point I seriously had to re-evaluate what the hell I was doing to attract the looney bin b*tches.  I never did figure it out but I did turn up my own insanity that way my uberloon would repel the mediocre crazy broads and keep the chicks who wanted adventure around.  I think it suited me well.

Besides I’m Surfboard P, there’s no room in m life for a chick who plays with fire.  Literally (I dated one of those too).

So folks, what keeps popping up on your relationship radar - basically, is your sh*t broke?  And if it isn’t a good thing what have you done to change that?  Even better, does anybody have a radar that only finds GOOD QUALITY? Or are radars generally reserved for the worst case scenarios?

Inquiring minds would like to know.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

And by the way, I went back and revisited my Teena Marie collection.  I won’t say she sucks (I apologize) but she does not sing better than Beyonce.  And a hit song (on in her case songs) does not a good singer make.  Word to Cassie.  She’s white, her ability to do runs is limited.  Some folks don’t care for all the histrionics and stuff and that’s fair…however, raw ability, Beyonce is blowing her the.f*ck.out.  It was written and I have spoken.

For all of our discussions on this site, we really haven’t talked about long distance relationships (LDR) much.

The reason for me is pretty simple: long distance relationships don’t work.

Period.

Anybody who tells you otherwise is cheating.

Or a woman who refuses to accept the fact that the man she’s entrusted her 700 mile heart too is getting his jalopy on with a pretty young bird every Tuesday while she waits for him to get home from his weekly “happy hour” with his boys.

Women have out of town boyfriends.  Dudes have out of town “wifeys”.

I like putting things in quotes.  “See”.  That was fun.  And by the way, is it me or are the VMA’s sucking?  I stopped watching after about an hour so somebody please tell me it got better.

Anyway.

LDRs are only good if you don’t really want to be in a relationship but like to tell people that you have a significant other.  It’s like being in a committed relationship without the commitment.  Of course you don’t realize that until it’s too late, but who’s counting.

I’ve been in more than my fair share of LDRs.  Basically, I made some bad decisions.  But you know, initially, they all seemed like the right decision.

You know how it happens.  You go out of town and hang with some friends who introduce you to some friends and one person stands out to you.  Like a genius, you engage in conversations and next thing you know, you find common interests.  You both like Pokemon or something.  Then the laughs start and its too late to NOT exchange information.

Then the late night 3 hour phone marathons begin.  At some point, you begin to ask yourself if it’s worth it to try the long distance relationship.  The pros outweigh the cons.  You neglect the running history of everybody you’ve ever known who’s been in a long distance relationship and that fact that maybe 1 out of 10 have worked.

But you and your LDBoo aren’t those other people.  You all have something real.  Really far…but real nonetheless.

So you keep going and it’s all good for a while but then that first argument starts.  And the problem with LDRs is that you can’t have make-up anything, really.  So you have to wait some time to see them again before you can properly make up.  And in that time, it’s possible that another argument can erupt.  You start arguing about things like dishrags.    To make a long story short in order to have a proper relationship, one must be able to look somebody in the eye (and touch them) amidst a disagreement in order to properly reconcile.

LDR?

Not so much.  Hell, in each one of my long distance relationships, they all ended in arguments and anger.  Usually, at least one of us wanted to pull the other through the phone and strangle the dogsh*t out of the other.

However, due to the limitations of technology that was neither possible or advised by 9 out of 10 family psychologists.

Experience is the best teacher.  This is fact.  Yet so many people disregard history when it comes to their own situations.  Somehow, we all think that we’ll be the lucky ones.

As a caveat, this isn’t to say that it is 100 percent impossible for LDRs to work, I’m just saying that its highly unlikely that most will work.  Some of you may be in them now and it may be working well for you.

However, for most of us, here is one simple rule for relationshipping:

Wednesday is Hump Day.  If you can’t hump on Wednesday, just keep them in the rolodex for out of town jollies.

For me, those are words to live by.

But what say you oh wise intellectuals, can long distance relationships work?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

**Admin. Note: Vote. To the left, to the left. Thanks. **

People say that what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. And I wholeheartedly agree with that statement.

I’ve been to Vegas.

Well, I also think that same logic applies to jail. What happens in jail stays in jail unless you were shanked by somebody, in which case the statute of limitations on returning the favor is pretty much unlimited.

However, given the circumstances of those men who are placed in jail for extremely long sentences, a question becomes evident to me:

Is it acceptable for a man to be gay in jail?

Umm…not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Think about this: people need personal interaction to live in this world. I don’t care how much of a loner you are; we all need some skin-on-skin action in our lives. That’s what prostitutes are for, to provide a service when you can’t get any skin-on-skin action from anywhere else. Much like video h*es, prostitutes don’t get enough credit for the service they provide to humanity.

Why would this change in jail? Especially when you have to spend years in a place where the only female might be a prison guard who is only sleeping with the death row inmates.

[***DISCLAIMER: Before we go any further, let me clear few things up. I'm not gay, nor do I live a gay lifestyle...not that there's anything wrong with living a gay lifestyle. I'm not even a metro-sexual. In fact, I'm still confused as to what a metro-sexual means since my take means almost gay, just doesn't know it yet. Once again, not that there's anything wrong with that. I have no problem with gay people, gay marriage, pink, flamingos, or John Legend. Nor do I plan on going to jail. I just think it’s an interesting topic. ***]

Of course, the other side of the game is this — what happens when he gets out? Would it be okay if he was gay in jail for, say, 7 years, and then wasn’t gay when he got out? Now, this is in direct conflict with the notion that people are born gay. Then again, jail is in direct conflict with the notion of a mixed genitalia world.

And what with EVERY woman thinking that EVERY man is either gay, gay-curious, or just DL anyway, the thought that its acceptable to say a black man can be gay in jail and come home and be un-gay might make me eligible to be incinerated at a Ponderosa Steak House — which is similar to being burned at a stake, only not at all.

But back to the point, is it even possible for a man to be gay in jail and actually come back out and live a heterosexual life? From a “desire” standpoint? I have no clue. And maybe that is where the answer lies. But…Donnie McClurkin was gay and he turned his life around.

Hmm…that was a judgmental statement that assumed that being gay means your life isn’t going in the right direction being as we only use the term “turned your life around” when referring to any negativity that you pursued prior. I mean when was the last time you heard somebody say, “wow, that Jim sure turned his life around” in reference to somebody going from being a God-fearing Christian to a Satan worshiping cat-screwer?

So, let me rephrase. Donnie McClurkin became — un-gay.

Do we believe that a gay man can become un-gay and not lust after the pleasures of the manflesh?

Like I said, I don’t know the answer.

However, for sake of argument, and assuming that a man could become ungay after leaving jail, assuming also that he would be eligible for parole at some point during his prison sentence, but not before at least 5 years…

…is it acceptable for a man to be gay in prison?

And to throw fuel on the fire, would you (women out there) date a man if you knew he was “prison gay”?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

Over the course of every relationship, there are a bunch of different levels you reach. There’s the first kiss, the first time you see each other naked, the first time you meet the parents, etc. Relationships are one big ass video game where you keep trying to beat levels to get the ultimate prize.

I’m not actually sure what the ultimate prize is but we’re all socialized to believe that there is one after you get married so let’s just assume that actually happens. Mmkay?

Mmkay.

Now most of those levels are attained together and even without a verbal confirmation, both parties generally understand that you’ve just beat the last villain and have moved up a difficulty.

However, there is one level that isn’t achieved together in a traditional sense. It’s one that calls into question exactly how two individuals might view one another.

It’s all about that real (hip-hop).

Follow me now.

Say the two of you (man and woman) are sitting on the couch watching television. You’re playing those funny little cutesy games where you pretend you’re wrestling for wrestling sake but its really all just foreplay. You both are drinking beers and eating chips and watching Ocean’s 13 when she looks right into your eyes, then looks at the television, lifts her left leg and poots like its nobody’s business. In fact, forget the euphemistic term “poot”…she straight up farts. Loudy. Manly.

And it ain’t a silent-but-deadly here. Nope. This one packs a punch.

People, the dog leaves the room.

As a human, we all understand that men and women both get a little gassy and have to release the hounds on occasion. But honestly, some men just aren’t ready to handle it. And similarly, some women are never ready to let a man know they actually renegade the twalet.

Most women want men to think that they sh*t flowers and poot daffodils and have cutesy, tiny burps. And most men are happy with women letting them think this. There are those women who come at you off top with this whole, “I’m a real person” mantra who will burp in front of you and pass BP and stuff. Thing is, I know some guys who “appreciate” that…to a certain point. At the point where you’re having impromptu undesired competitive burping contests, it might start to get a little annoying.

This is that interesting level where things get sticky. Men, we like to think of our women’s icky bathroom activities kind of like graffiti-esque stretchmarks and Monica Lewinsky’s dirty dress – we know it exists, but we’d just prefer to never see it and pretend it didn’t. At the point where you introduce the funk to the P, I have to determine just how comfortable I am with my “lady” being less “ladylike”. For me, it’s not that big a deal, but then again, I’ve never actually dated a chick who’d try to pull a Dutch Oven on me. And really, I’m not sure how I’d handle it. But I do know some dudes who would let a chick go who was too free with herself and her not-solid-not-liquid emissions.

I did date one chick who let one rip so effervescently that I still remember it to this day. And she was sleep and it kcuffed up my WHOLE day. I just wasn’t ready. We got over it…mostly because it woke her up out of her sleep and she had to leave the room too. She was embarrassed and I couldn’t stop talking about it. Just a bad combination.

But still, I remember it to this day.

So anyway, good people of VSB.com, at what point do you women feel its okay to just be free like Deniece Williams? To my brohams, do you prefer a woman who seems too dainty and sh*t to let it rip? Or do you want “such a f*cking lady?” who’s motto is “better out than in!”

Inquiring minds would like to know.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

In light of yesterday’s post from Heather Hunter — who’s probably not the p0rn star — and her wayward speaking beau (and the “man’s” attempt to shut us down for a few hours), I figure I’d delve a little deeper into the “wrong sh*t to say” phenomenon. You see, women often allude to the fact that a lot of dudes would get a lot further with them if they’d never open their mouths.

I suppose a lot of guys do say the wrong thing…I suppose. Then again, it always works on some chick. Let’s face it, all women don’t have standards. Which bodes well for guys who don’t really like chicks with standards. That’s the win-win.

Anyway, for a little Friday fun, I figured I’d throw out my guess as to five statements that would probably ruin any woman’s first impression of a man. Let’s see if I know what I’m talking about. I think I do.

PANAMA SPITS THAT HOT FIYAH: 5 STATEMENTS THAT WILL BURN YOU AT YOUR STEAK

1. “Hey bitch.”

Of course, if you’re in France, and you bring your pet Chow to the restaurant with you and it just so happens to be a , ya know, b*tch, it’s quite possible that he was talking to your dog since all dogs go to heaven. And you DO NOT want to get in trouble with big guy upstairs by NOT recognizing the b*tch at the bar…right? Right??

2. “Girl, your a** looks like two basketballs stuffed with two watermelons being eaten by two midgets down there. Hell, I don’t know whether to bounce, bite, or give your ass a pound.”

Yeah, even I have no defense for that one. By the way? That’s a lot of arse.

3. “I’m not really a big fan of relationships. I really just want to have the kind of *word that rhymes with flex* with you that monkeys have when they’re mad at the gazelles. Girl, you know what I’m talking about…”

Interestingly, many women say this is what they’d rather hear from a man than all the game he’s spitting. I don’t believe you, you need more people. I can’t see how any man who says this to a woman would really be given honesty points. In fact, I don’t think ANY man would come out well in this situation. Except maybe LL Cool J. But then again, he’s starting to look like a woman so maybe he knows exactly what woman want to hear.

4. “Miss lady, you’re very pretty. I’ve never seen a woman with such natural beauty as you have and I just wanted to tell you that. If you think that’s sweet, wait til you see how much honey I’d like to pour all over your body. Bartender…bartender…do you have any of her bathwater back there on tap because she is a tall drink of water and I AM FEELING…THIRSTY!”

Heh heh. I’d actually like to try this at some point…just to see how fast the chick would go from “he’s nice” to “I hope you die a slow and painful death”. I have 9 seconds in the office pool.

And lastly…

5. “Great lips. I bet you **** a mean ****. “

Never mind that it might be true. My guess is that telling a woman that she probably ***** a mean **** will ensure that you go home with a *** ****. Which is never a good thing. Of course, on the off chance that she does both **** a mean **** AND wants to show you, well then slap me silly and call me Susan because you’ve just met a hooker.

So good people of VSB.com, what are some things that you’ve actually heard that ruined a first impression in something like 5 seconds flat. Ladies, I KNOW with all the stories that get floated out here that there are a million jacked up statements. And fellas (what!), fellas (what!), what are some lines you’ve actually tried on chicks that you knew weren’t going to work but you said, “who cares, maybe she’ll bite?” Deviant, I KNOW you got lines!

Sharing is caring, people.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST

One of the main premises that’s arisen out of the myriad discussions that have occurred here at VSB.com is this:

Men and women just plain out view things differently.

I’ve long contended that the major reason that men and women butt heads so much is that men and women refuse to acknowledge the fact that we’ll never truly understand why we each do the things we do. Women think men are complex and men think that men are simple.

Men think that women are irrationally emotional and women think that women are only responding to the energy that men bring forth. It’s a tangled web we weave.

It’s like we eat because we’re fat. But we’re fat because we can’t stop eating. It’s a vicious cycle.

One interesting place where these differences arise that I, as a man, can’t really comprehend why the difference occurs is here:

When dating, men look for ass first and end up finding meaning with a woman. Women on the other hand look for meaning from the beginning and get surprised when men tend to be the very jackass that their daddy (if he was even there) told them to avoid. What this basically means is that women are always hoping for the best and probably hopeless romantics. But the problem with always hoping for the best is that there’s another half to that equation, and the two equal up to life. The second half is to prepare for the worst.

So when many women seem to be enthusiastically miffed the f*ck up by a man who only wants to see her naked, I’m genuinely surprised. Especially since every single woman I know believes that men just want to see them in their skivvies anyway. Yet somehow, even the most practical and pragmatic women is honestly shocked, dismayed, and disappointed when a cat she had high hopes for shows his ass as the South Street Slut Sleeper.

Now of course, I tend to believe that at their core, women are better people than men. Women operate on feelings and warm and fuzzy places. And men, well, we like warm and fuzzy places. Attached to legs. It isn’t that men aren’t good people, it’s just we’re more animally instinctual. We like to pounce on things and women make such fun things to pounce on. Grr.

Now there’s probably a good reason for the difference in women’s attitudes towards dating et al. Women are socialized to be more passive and to basically not be whores – which is good. Being a whore seems like it’d totally suck.

Um, no pun intended.

But the thing is that I think we men have it right when it comes to choosing our mates. We get all the whorishness out of our system and then decide its time to settle down and get us a wife and make a family. Most women just look for the first thing smoking instead of giving themselves the opportunity to fully explore themselves and let their soul glow.

They don’t let it shine through.

I understand why women seek out a husband first and then start dating, but I don’t really get it. Mostly because I know good and doggone well that as a man, it seems like there’s just too much to do before you get married.

But maybe it’s not for me to really understand anyway. Maybe that’s the beauty that is women. All full of hopes and dreams and belief in men allowing for the continuation of the species.

Good thing I’m a man then…since you’re hopes and dreams ensure that a brotha’s gonna get a chance to work it out.

And isn’t that what it’s really all about anyway?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST