met my match…nyc edition…

As I mentioned last week, good times were had recently in the city that never sleeps. It took me about a week to filter through them to identify which story would be a) worthy of a few hundred words b) not be able to be used against me in a court of law. One particular encounter that made it through this filter seemed to bubble to the top. So grab your favorite beverage…adult variety if you see fit…and let story time begin…

Before we jump in, don’t let the title fool you as I did not meet my match in the match.com manner but instead my match in terms of someone resilient to what we’ve affectionately come to call charm school. Now I’m not saying that everyone falls victim to my irresistible charms, as a few (maybe many as my memory is poor) have decided to opt out during the registration process. What made this particular interaction of note was that she didn’t ask to be excused from the class but instead grabbed the chalk and decided the course would be student lead…

As a bit of background, the group of homies found ourselves in a bar for an annual life celebration of a homiette…shouts to all the indecisive libras out there…It was a low key bar setup with music playing in the background while drinks were consumed at varying frequency levels. Those that know me can guesstimate that my levels were near the top of the leaderboards. During one of my every six minute scans of the surroundings, a certain young lady that seemed to be dolo at the bar caught my attention. She was dressed casually in a loose top and shorts that gave way to the kind of legs that looked good enough to be on a kfc menu. She was strikingly attractive with hints of multiple races that led me to thank my lucky starts for the end of segregation back in the day… Read more of this post

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not just another garden tool…

The ubf fellows took to the streets of nyc this past weekend and as always the good times commenced. I’ll get to some of those good times in my next posts but right now I need to spend the next few days cleaning myself of mouth herpes (learned that evidently somewhere between 65-90% of people have it and I’m venturing a guess I’m not in the talented tenth on this one) and other commonly spread epidemics that you get from public transportation…

During one of our pre-awesome sessions with the homies, we stumbled onto a gem of a topic…hoes…

It started with first defining what makes a person a hoe…it was no surprise we had countless different answers and feelings towards those exhibiting hoe tendencies…here are a few of the opinions on you might be a haeux if… Read more of this post

attack of the body art…

it has often been said that tattoos are like posturpedic partners…they are permanent and once you get too many of them, people start to call you loose…ok…well maybe it hasn’t been said that often and i, for one, believe that this is part of the problem…

let me start by saying, i am actually a fan of a little female body art…the key word in there being “little”…i can’t count the number of times i’ve been pleasantly surprised by some well placed decorative ink sprinkled about the torso…oh wait…when i say it like that it makes me sound promiscuous…so yes i can count and the number is 4 (because that sounds pretty low)…but i can also count those times when i was surprised by a full set of bat wings or the entire 2nd verse to wind beneath my wings (and it was only partially beneath her wing)…

this has lead me to believe that some additional tattoo etiquette education may be in order…and giving our insatiable need to educate the public on topics that they have no desire to learn, here are a few things you can do to keep from looking like weezy in your nighty… Read more of this post

for the love of ray j…

I was all set to tackle an all important issue like why breast implants are never a bad idea with today’s post but the large amounts of #tougherthanrayj tweets made me realize that I had to devote today’s rant to the vh1s second favorite little black man…

For those of you unfamiliar with willie junior, here is a quick rundown…best known as the real life little brother of moesha aka brandy…not as well known is that he is also the first cousin to calvin broadus aka snoop dogg…but his biggest claim to fame (or infamy) is still being responsible for kim kardashian…not in the birthing sense but more in the I saw your sex tape so now I want to buy sketchers that you endorse sense…

Well evidently he wasn’t too appreciative of ms kardashian’s continual upstaging of him so he decided to go the rapper route and do something that gets the po-po called for attention…insert the guinness world record for the first ever celebrity twitter-fued with an actual rapper, fabolous (his spelling not mine), that led to a real world fisticuffs …now there are plenty of reports going around about what really happened during this altercation in vegas so we won’t waste any of your precious time on that stuff…we’ll let google handle that for us…

Instead for your entertainment purposes I’d like to talk about how poorly thought out this display of machismo by ray j really was…I know what you are thinking…any man that is horizontally acquainted with a post ’98 whitney houston after bedding kim k should only be allowed to wear velcro shoes and jackets that let him hug himself really hard…while you are correct, but let’s assume for argument’s sake that he wasn’t short on common sense in addition to height… Read more of this post

if i should die tonight…

be ye not afraid (that’s bible talk) for this post is not nearly as morbid as the title makes it sound…i was simply sitting around examining my 99% unpacked apartment and started honing in on some  odd patterns that i’ve established as i’ve bounced from domicile to domicile…a few things that would make any MIB clean up crew scratch their heads in the event that i was ever abducting by aliens or something…

my stash of single socks…yes, in my sock drawer there is an area designated for my divorced socks…everyone knows that some where between the rinse cycle and the tumble dry, socks have a tendency to escape through some sort of underground garment railroad…well, although i’ve submitted more than my fair share of individual change of address forms, i somehow have it stuck in my mind that my single socks will one day return to their rightful owner…granted…to this date i am 0 for every sock i‘ve ever lost but i still keep the stupidity  faith… Read more of this post

smushed green grass…

I know what many of you think…man I wish I could live that single life of elrock …

Aside: I too have been there I must admit…

Even if you can’t reach elrock status, your best efforts will show (as my post from last week tried to illustrate) that it takes a very serious commitment to enjoy the fruits of singledom labor…to further this point I have a tale from my weekend …you see while the yard may look full of bountiful green grass over there on the solo dolo side, it can often times get crumpled under life’s feet of less than desirable experiences…

On this particular evening, I was invited out by a friend to a games night…being a Taboo master, I was compelled to defend my crown but  I found myself tired leading up to the evening’s main event….hoping to gather my energy through the form of tiddlywinks coppage, I opted for a pre-game nap…after underestimating my tiddlies level, I slept approximately two hours longer than the original plan…after recognizing that I was on my couch and not Paula Patton’s as my dream had led me to believe, I went into quick preparation mode for the evening…also known as t-shirt, jeans and js…I share this seemingly meaningless paragraph of details to bring to life the lack of care that went into my appearance…

Luckily I arrived to my friend’s abode prior to the all important taboo team selection but I seemed to have missed the section of the night where everyone says their name through an interpretive chant and dance…as a true games participant I put aside my lack of social media linkage to 53% of the room and we jumped right into the game… Read more of this post

Guest Post: Feminism Fatigue

ladies and gents out there in ubf land, once again proving that we are an equal opportunity depository of foolishness, allow us to introduce to you our partner in lines anani miss…more of her work can be found here…enjoy…

Picture this. It’s 2000.  Beyonce Knowles is just a girl who wears really ugly, really sparkly outfits missing really key pieces of fabric in really random places.  She sings a song about independent women.

Being 21, with my first job and paying my first car note, what did I do when said song came on?  I almost dislocated a shoulder attempting to throw my hands up at them.  I didn’t need no man, because I could get down like that.  I just needed me (well, and my mom to cosign for my car.)

I wanted to run the world.

Picture this.  It’s 2011.  The Patron Saint of Girl Power is just a mother-to-be finally able to afford clothes with enough fabric to cover her entire body.  She sings a song about girls running the world.

Being 32, way beyond my first job and paying off an infinite amount of grad school student loans, what did I do when said song came on?  I thought, “Ummmm, about that, B.  Running the world sounds like it might be too much work.” Read more of this post

yeah…ubf remembers too…

i hate tony romo…whew…sorry…i just had to get that off my chest…

*in my best Sophia from the golden girls impression*

picture it, cincinnati… september 11th 2001 around 9:03 a.m. i moseyed into my local circuit city to purchase my copy of jay-z’s blueprint album (yeah i liked to get there early so i could buy new joints and play them all day at work to develop an opinion about it before i talked to anyone else) and…rumor has it, that classic, couldn’t even be stopped by bin laden…cheesy, but i had to do it…

as i skipped out of my office on this unapproved field trip, i vaguely heard one of my coworkers mention something about a plane and the world trade center, but not wanting to get entangled in mindless office chatter, i decided to pretend like i didn’t hear it… Read more of this post

rules of the man crush…

There comes the times in every straight man’s life when he recognizes that he has an appreciation for certain aspects (non-sexual) of another man’s life…and if you are vigorously shaking your head no, you may have misplaced your homophobic medicine in that little closet of yours…it isn’t gay to give credit to another man’s choice in suits unless you are doing that after noticing it on your floor following a night of naked pitch and catch…

Many refer to this as a man crush…not to be confused with a bromance which is an entirely different topic on itself…for example, I have a man crush on Bradley Cooper…well let me make one point of clarification, I have a man crush on the characters that Bradley Cooper tends to play in movies…I couldn’t tell you how he actually lives in his normal day to day life given the lack of TMZ sightings or police reports but the guys his name is associated with in the closing credits always seem to be of the kind of person that you wouldn’t mind tagging in your facebook pictures following a weekend of foolery…as that is the true sign of male friendship…

The reasons male crushes are such a hush topic is that straight-straight  guys tend  to not want others to think they are gay, gay-straight guys tend to not want others to know they are gay and gay-gay guys tend to actually not care what others think especially those in the other two categories…

In an attempt to help those of us in the first category, I’ve come up with some rules for the man crush that should erase those fears…and they should be pretty easy to follow if you are in fact in the first category… Read more of this post

baby beyonce and other tales of disappointment…

this can’t be happening…i, like many others sat Indian style in the middle of my living room floor breathing heavily, clutching the remote in my left hand hand  and an ice cream sandwich in my right, watching beyonce knowles-z do her tv tease thing…and…just like most of you, i had the oxygen come sprinting out of my lungs as she peeled back her shimmery tux jacket to reveal what looked to be a nerf football stuffed inside a cummerbund…

that nerf football turned out to be a real live human that her and shawn carter worked on apparently between watch the throne verses…and just like that, my plans of  accidentally impregnating ms. “to the left” were out the window…let’s face it, after this bout with pregnancy she’ll never fall for my “that’s not really how babies are made” baby making scheme…

over time, the sinking feeling of dying butterflies in my stomach was replaced with the normal lactose induced cramps, but i couldn’t help but reflect on some of the other occurrences that have lead me to this perpetual drunken state… Read more of this post