winning.

I think this week we all got a valuable lesson on “Winning”, compliments of Mr. Charlie Sheen. While many people find his brilliance shinanigans to be the rants of a crazy man, I’m impressed. He’s managed to get the entire perez hilton/people/bossip/ubf crowd’s undivided attention AND pump out some ridiculously fantastic quotables in the process.  My entire Facebook timeline was filled with “Sheenisms”- the nuggets of wisdom passed on through the interviews and twitter page of the man himself. Oh yes- and let’s not forget the two twenty year old  gold digging prostitutes “goddesses” that he’s procured for his personal sexual enjoyment. He definitely could teach the UBF guys a thing or two about harmonious ho-ing double dipping.

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that girl we love to hate…

Hello you groupie. Yeah, I said it. I’ve already posted about my love of myself the gold digger, but let’s talk about the groupie. If gold digger’s are high class escorts, groupies are street corner hookers. Same job, grimier M/O.  Just in case you are confused by the definition of a groupie vs. a gold digger, I will break down the basic constructs.

Gold diggers often actually have something going for them. They just want your piece of the pie too. Some of my favorite Gold diggers are Beyonce, Nicole Murphy, Amber Rose and even Tracy Edmonds. What do all of these women have in common? Now that they have their own money (even the ones who obtained it via the California gold rush, i.e. Hollywood gold digging), they still make sure to reap the benefits of their significant other wherever possible. Jay-z wouldn’t have stood a chance if he wasn’t, well Jay-z.  And honestly?  A woman of her caliber has earned her right to dig for the best looking gold in town. Anything less is a downgrade.

The difference between a gold digger and a groupie: With a groupie, all of the pretense is gone. There is no wining, no dining, no contrived dates, no falling in love with his lifestyle. Gold digging takes planning, finesse, dare I say even a semblance of class. Groupies just stand around the VIP section, backstage or bottle service trying to get in where they can fit in. A good night for a gold digger ends in a tennis bracelet and sexy times on high thread count king sized bedding and conception. For a groupie, a good night usually entails some head pushing. Pun intended. Read more of this post

I ain’t sayin I’m a gold digger…

Tricks are for kids.  (Sorry Onetrik) And so is being broke. By now our wonderful readers at UBF have realized that Onetrik & I have been having a somewhat unhealthy friendly debate about who has it better: the Ladies or the Tramps Gents. Yesterday, we were mislead to believe once again learned that according to Onetrik, men just want to plough every field possible.  Who cares about being first? As long as you can lap up those sloppy seconds, thirds, lasts, leftovers, moldy cheese, cottage cheese, yeast (ok I’m taking it too far, but you get my point) in a Costco cart, as a man- you are winning.   So I ask him and all of you other flashy dudes out there. Tell me something? Is all this winning free? That’s a rhetorical question.  Because we all know the answer to that.

Last year this time, I made the mistake of dating someone who was extremely pretty and used more hair products than I do good looking, but broke as a joke.  Anytime I wanted “Us” to do something, “We” couldn’t afford it and “I” ended up paying for it.  The situation ended eventually because he was a facebook whore not exactly the most honest man I had ever dealt with, but in the end, I was most angry at myself for spending money on this broke @ss dude.  Fast forward to now. Read more of this post