Category — mandom

pants on fire

before i start, i want to preface this by saying that i appreciate the effort. seriously, i do. i’m being completely sincere, non-patronizing, non-condescending, and non-disingenuous when i say that. kudos and sh*t for the effort.

with that being said, it greatly pains me to let many women know that their efforts have been for naught.

all those magazine articles? lies. that convo you had with your girlfriend two years ago that got you hooked to the game? she’s full of sh*t.

what am i referring to?

the kegel exercise, which results in tighter, stronger, vagina muscles during sex, is overrated.

yup. i said it.

don’t believe me? ask a guy, any random guy, to list in order the qualities that made the best gotdamn he’s ever had the best gotdamn he’s ever had, and numbers 1 through 20 will probably be one of at least 327 synonyms of the word “wet”, followed by enthusiasm and energy. “tightness” or “vaginal clenching-ness ability” would probably fall in the 25-35 range, bookmarked between “presentation” and “color”.

now, i’m not saying that we enjoy boning women with vaginal canals so cavernous that each stroke echoes twice, but having a vice-grips va-jay-jay is not the business. it, for lack of a better term, hurts dammit, and pain is usually not one of the optimum qualities straight men we associate with good sex.

anyway though, good people of vsb.com, what are some other popular misconceptions about sex that you wish to debunk?

—the champ

yesterday’s discussion about privilege (or lack thereof) sparked an idea in my head, perfectly articulated by vsb.com regular v.e.g.

“I wonder what privileges VSBers would say they get…i.e. tall man privilege, skinny girl privilege. etc.??? Would be an interesting exercise to have folks list what they perceive to be their privileges. OR if they feel like they DON’T benefit from them at all.”

one of the main themes i tried to convey yesterday was the fact that pretty much everybody benefits from some sort of privilege, whether you admit to it or not. whether its something as simple as dimples and perfect pearly whites that allow you to immediately charm people or the fact that you’re the only black in the hr department at work, basically insuring that you’ll never, ever, ever get fired from your job, the majority of us have at least one subtle or obvious advantage over most other people that we use to our benefit, including the champ himself.

to prove my point, here’s a short list of the champs perceived privileges.

1. the dark-brown skinned black guy privilege…which means that my skin is dark enough to never have my “blackness” or masculinity questioned, but not so dark that it’s been the object of ridicule. in recent years, i’ve also found that i’m tall and dark enough to scare unsuspecting 2520’s away with a stanley-esque glare if i want to keep the seat next to me open on the bus, but, with my glasses and attache, still non-threatening enough to be the black guy lost white women ask for orgasms directions

did i stutter???

2. the black male former english teacher privilege…which insures that, regardless of how hard things are economically, unless i’m caught on rude.com akon-ing keke palmer, i’ll always be able to get a job somewhere teaching english. sh*t, at this point, i might as well put “quota filler” on my resume instead of my name

3. the educated and not under-employed male (**knocking on wood**) in the burgh privilege…lets just say that theres a reason why i haven’t moved out of the cave to the beltway or atlanta. like marlo says, “noone f*cks with me now“.

4. the ball-player with a brain privilege…an advantage i especially enjoyed in college, when being able to dribble a basketball and put more than three sentences together without slobbering kept the nights of dry nuts to a minimum, a dynamic which eventually led to the…

...5. the black male blogging privilege, which i choose not to expound upon because i actually want people to continue to frequent the site, lol. i plead the fif and sh*t

these are just a few of mine. what are yours?

–the champ

for the last month or so, an article titled “the black male privilege checklist” has made its way around the blogosphere, sparking discussion, inciting debates, and wetting more womanist mesh panties than free patchouli night at trader joes.

in it, the author lists 100 different ways that black males are at the beneficial end of intraracial gender privilege. this was a good concept (in theory), but the execution fails when he continues to add inconsequential sh*t to stretch the list to a more buzz-worthy “100″.

***example: #86 on his list “as men, we’re able to make exciting splashes when we urinate, as opposed to women who are stuck with boring peeing while sitting“. okay, i’m totally making this up. but you get my point***

also, what the author fails to admit is that we ALL benefit from some sort of privilege. whether its “pretty girl privilege”, “dark-skinned guy privilege“, “big d*ck privilege”, “big booty/little waist privilege“, “smart person privilege”, “inheritance privilege”, “token black privilege“, “no-kids privilege”, “squirter privilege”, or “i know my dad and i celebrate father’s day privilege“, the majority of us can name an advantage we have over many of our peers…and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

when the topic of privilege and double-standards is brought up though, males are inevitably painted as the bad guy, or at least the only beneficiaries…a statement which couldn’t be further from the truth.

for instance: a couple months ago, professional sambo rapper yung berg was (justifiably) railed across the coals for making that inane “pool test” statement dissing dark-skinned black women, yet many black women openly state their preference for darker-skinned males without rebuke, hurting the feelings of many of our lighter-skinned brethren, including our own p the arsonist. if i wrote an entry titled “top 5 reasons you can’t let a fat chick meet momma…even if momma’s fat too”, i’d probably hafta hire an intern just to deal with the hate mail i’d receive, but it is perfectly okay for a woman to state that she wouldn’t date a man under six feet tall, a statement which eliminates roughly 60-65 percent of the black male population since the average male height is 5′9”.

from hair texture and height to skin-tone and wang size, women are allowed to freely state physical preferences that openly eliminate many members of the opposite sex, characteristics that the guy has completely no control over. yet, a black male can’t even openly admit to being more attracted to women whose skin is a half shade lighter than theirs without getting verbally sodomized by feminist adebesis.

i guess you can say that this dynamic is a symptom of the fact that since at least 92 percent of what they say is bullsh*t women are generally given more latitude with their words than we are. maybe being able to openly eliminate prospects without rebuke is a by-product of them being socialized to openly express their feelings more freely and us being socialized to listen to and accept them regardless of how jejune they might be.

who knows. all i know is that someone needs to stand up for the short smart brothas out there too since they can’t stand up for themselves. well, they could, but does it really count as “standing up” if you can’t see over anyone’s shoulders? nevermind. don’t answer that. and, since i am the champion and sh*t, i nominate myself for the job.

—the champ

slowly but surely, straight men have become american culture’s whipping boys. the scapegoats for everything that’s wrong with everything, we’re looked at as the ugly elephant in the room scratching his nuts with his forearms, reeking of axe body spray while downloading porn and drop kicking kittens like jack black in anchorman, and i’m sick and tired of it.

yeah, i know. we’re pretty much responsible for every war, the holocaust, slavery, rape, the inquisition, the murder of Christ and big l, and pink tims, but we’re not as bad as everyone makes us out to be. we’re people too, with feelings and sh*t, and we’re sick and tired of taking sh*t from everybody else.

today i will name three separate culprits. three sources of our unrelenting agony and pain. three completely unrelated ways that all contribute to our ridicule, and hopefully by recognizing these we’ll be able to make some changes.

1. SITCOMS

it’s no secret that i’m a huge fan of comedy. from arsenic and old lace to bingo long’s traveling all-stars and catch-22, i have a great appreciation for sh*t that can make people consistently laugh. this is why it pains me deep within my loins to see how thoroughly dissed males are in every sitcom. think about it, seemingly every popular sitcom revolves around the same basic premise: men are f*cking dumb as hell. unhealthy, simpleminded, and senseless nincompoops who’d be utterly useless without our hot and witty wives to balance our utter thimblebrainedness out.

now, before i continue, i want to let it be known that i’m not complaining about the hot and witty wife part. cheryl hines, and kelita smith can complain about me not taking out the garbage any day of the week with their milfy asses. i know this formula is used because nobody would watch a show revolving around an attractive guy and his witless, clumsy, and unattractive wife, but damn…throw us a f*ckin bone. would it hurt to show one of these men with a brain or a spine? would ratings really plummet if jim belushi didnt walk around with mustard stains on his chin for 23 minutes each week?

again though, please understand that i’m not complaining about the unproportionately good looking and witty women part. i want to make that as clear as possible. its not my dream to turn on cbs one day and see idris elba and niecy nash starring in “baby hair and her baby“. i’d just like a little equality here. not full, but just a little. a smigen.

2. THE TOILET SEAT

honestly, out of all the gripes women have about men, this confuses and infuriates me the most. can somebody please explain this to me? how lazy does it make a gender look when you universally complain about something which would take less than a second to rectify? plus, its been researched at harvard that leaving the toliet seat up actually improves the airflow in the room and has a positive effect on your immune system.

for those still griping about the callousness and inconsiderateness of leaving the seat up, just think of all the potentially objectionable things we do and put up with, and never complain about:

sleeping in the wet spot
eating the, ummm, you know.

***seriously, i enjoy doing it, but, you have to admit, the vagina is one of the most intimidating looking substances on the planet. imagine if you had never seen one before, and the earth was invaded by a bunch of 8 foot tall vagina monsters. you’re telling me that wouldnt scare the sh*t out of you? a bunch of drippy, stretchy, flappy, leaky, multi-colored beings that spit random red substances at their whim? spielberg or eli roth couldnt even dream of something more frightening, but we still happily partake with our tongues a blazing and necks a crampin.***

kissing after fellatio

***someone, please tell me. what is it in your minds that triggers the thought “cool, i’ve just had my mouth on his meat for the past five and a half minutes…this would be a perfect time to kiss him!!! i’m sure he’s always been curious about the relish of semen, especially his own“? please, somebody, explain this to me***

four words: pantyhose in the sink

3. YOUR WEIGHT

from this point on, we will not take even a hint of blame anymore for the masochistic obsession you all have with your weight. it is finished.

of course, i know that women are judged to a different standard body-wise than we are, and i do realize that for many women, self-image/attractiveness and percieved self-worth have a direct correlation, but the only people who give a damn about a stretch mark on your boob or reserve hero worship for ultra-waifish chicks are gay men and other women. thats it. nobody else. we’re no longer to be blamed for anorexia, bulimia, siberia, rihanna, and any other eating related disease thats been invented in the past 25 years. its over.

this is a start. if these things can’t be rectified soon, we’re prepared to protest and boycott certainsh*t until our demands our met. i have a crew of n-words right behind me (insert phrase that rhymes with “go slowmo”) ready to follow my lead. be afraid, women. be very afraid.

—the champ

soon to be former mayor kilpatrick with mistress christine beatty, the patron saint of light-skinned points

i received this email a couple of weeks ago from ashley “the fireman” johnson (aka “hood bradley“), a friend of vsb.com

IS THERE A FAITHFUL POLITICIAN OUT THERE…ANYWHERE?

If we just go w/ the big scandals…we first heard about JFK and Marilyn, then Bill and Monica, most recently Elliot Spitzer and the Miami pro, now John Edwards.

(Oh, and lets not forget Thomas J. and Sally Hemmings — who started it ALL…)

What is it w/ these fellas and their inability to stay faithful. The power? The prestige? The young, fresh intern-quality @$$ just lying around D.C.?

And what is is about their wives, who be standing right next to ‘em at the “blow up ya’ spot press conference”?

Lastly…Barack. Will he fall victim too, if he assumes the throne? ‘Cause you can imagine that Michelle would box-cutter that playa.

ashley could have very easily substituted “powerful/popular man“ for “politician” in the title, and the theme would have remained the same. as reluctant as i am to admit that any particular gender has the edge in the cheating sweepstakes, history has shown us that men with elevated social status seem to be more likely to sidestep faithfulness and monogamy more than anyone else.

from the theory that the type of competitive and borderline compulsive personalities that high achieving men typically possess usually extends to the way they view the opposite sex to the fact that this same hyper-assertion and aggression is an aphrodisiac for many women, there are myraid possible reasons for this dynamic…but maybe chris rock is right. maybe we’re truly only as faithful as our options.

as much as i love to get on my ivory tower and bray about the fundamental selfishness and weakness exhibited in habitual cheating, maybe every guy (including the champ), regardless of how moral they claim to be, has a “breaking point”, a p**sy point of no return. maybe the only thing separating me from kwame kilpatrick (other than the fact that i would have at least picked a chick who didn’t look like the mulatto version of bea arthur) is that i just haven’t reached mine…yet.

honestly, i’m stumped. people of vsb.com, how would you answer ashley’s questions?

—the champ

letter to a young champ,

1. relax. between the ages of 16 to 23, the phrase “its really not that serious” is applicable for every chick you’re interested in, and, to be honest, vice versa. the sooner you realize this the better off you’ll be

2. that one chick from college (you know who)? get off her d*ck. keep doing you and don’t treat her like the be all end all of all black women. sh*t, you’re a freakin ballplayer and, in a decade or so, thousands of people across the country who’ve never even met you will refer to you as “the champ“. you don’t need to be sweating anyone that hard, dog. and, to be perfectly honest, you don’t really want to sleep with her. i mean, yeah you do…but your motivation to bone has gone from pure curiousness to pure ego. you dont even think she’s hot, and the only reason you want to fu*ck her is because you havent been able to yet.

3. sasha from caribana? do everything humanly possibly to get her the f*ck back to your hotel room, even if it means paying your man to step to and bag one of her hideous ass girls. you won’t be able to call her the day next because your phone is going to die as soon as you leave the club, subsequently erasing the numbers you just put in there (damn sprint!!). other than some carl thomas vid from 2005 that you’ll swear you saw her in, you will never see or hear from her again.

4. you’ll eventually find out that the chick from the bookstore is bipolar. not your typical garden variety chick bipolarness either, but she’s seriously been diagnosed as a manic-depressive. i not saying that you still shouldnt bag her because she is fine as frog hair and doesnt disprove that myth about crazy chicks in the sack, but it’s still good to know things like this.

5. that slight technical variation you incorporated into your boning style in 2002? good job. i’d admonish you for not thinking about doing that sooner, but, to be honest, college aged chicks aren’t ready for that, so it was probably for the better

6. dont wait another year. it’s not going to get any better, and the longer you wait, the more difficult it’s going to be to do it. end it as soon as the idea of ending it first gets into your head. yeah, its gonna hurt, but thats part of being a grown-up, and you’ll realize down the line that you definitely made the right decision.

this is it. sure, there’s a bit more i can tell you…especially at least 12 very good reasons not to put your lips anywhere near the vicinity of kim’s well-traveled mouth, but knowing everything would take the fun out of everything you’re eventually going to do. just follow you gut, cross your t’s and dot your i’s, and dont allow yourself to be seduced by tipsy snizzles your freshman year of college.

signing off,

the champ

(btw, i’ll explain the meaning of this new nickname in due time)

so, slutty mature folk of vsb.com, if you could hop into your personal relationship delorean and give advice to your former self, what the hell would you say?

—the champ

the official drink of the BAB

from the real world’s BBC (big breasted coral) to omarosa manigault-stallworth, the image of the “angry educated black woman” has become a fixture in modern day american culture. studied, discussed, debated, and caricatured, you almost can’t escape a day without reading some blog or watching some special focused on angry educated black women’s views on dating, racism, sexism or kim kardashian.

thing is, the non-stop attention paid to these belligerent and bookish broads has caused us to overlook and ignore a growing contingent in our communities, a group thats still growing like chinese gymnasts and spreading like the legs of vsb.com groupies california wildfires, the bitter-a** bastard.

acrimonious men who have allowed a few real or perceived minor slights to vindicate their displeasure with womanhood in general, there are bitter-a** bastards walking among us and angrily insisting dutch first dates as we speak, and and its our duty to locate and brand them before they continue to poison the already misty dating pool

so, without further ado, here’s three signs that you might be a bitter-a** bastard (BAB)

1. you’re proudly unchivalrous.

there’s nothing else that screams “i’m a bitter a** bastard” louder than a grown ass man who’s practically excited to get the opportunity to let everyone else know all the simple-ass sh*t they’d never do for a woman.

“pay for dinner??? trick, please. what i look like buying you appetizers and water and sh*t when you don’t even swallow??? plus, you make like 31g’s a year!!! you’re telling me you can’t afford to buy your own damn ice tea???”

look, i understand that it’s 2008 and that acf (annoyingly convenient feminism) combined with the gains women have made in the workforce has made male and female interaction increasingly complex. plus, with all the diseased free panties running the streets nowadays, why walk the extra mile for some “undeserving” chick when you can run a train in your basement?

yet, despite whatever argument you conceive, there’s still no justifiable explanation being this way. part of being a grown-up man is doing the right thing without any expectation of acknowledgment or reward, but a typical BAB will voluntarily and happliy relinquish a crucial component of his own manhood just because some janky broad or two didn’t immediately fellate him when he gave up his seat for her on the train seven years ago.

2. scapegoating is your friend

BABs love scapegoating and pigeonholing more than crackheads love home depot. words such as “all” and “every” always seem to find a way into their sentences when speaking negatively about the opposite sex, a common practice used by folks so blinded by bitterness that they can’t see how foolish a statement such as “all black women with master’s degrees give terrible bj’s” really is. ****editors note: although, with this example, he might have a point****

3. “bitter? me? hell no!!! not at all. I’m just a little more practical now, thats all”

theres nothing a BAB loathes more than actually admitting that he’s a BAB, a phenomenon which produces some of the most hilariously misguided attempts of synonym use known to man. from “practical” and “prudent” to “rational” and “realistic”, a typical BAB will have an endless supply of words and euphemisms that make his BAB-ness sound much less harsh

“i’m not bitter. far from it. i just tend to look at the entire idea of womankind in a perpetually jaundiced light, thats all.”

the first step in any type of healing process is acknowledging the fact that you actually do have a problem, but because BAB’s are typically reluctant to do this, its our patriotic duty to alert them ourselves. good people of vsb.com, its in your hands now.

i challenge you all to find one BAB today, look him dead in his beady eyes, and tell him to “man the hell up!!”. don’t let your country or your champ down.

–the champ