Today’s Word is… LIE

Lies are self serving.  If you have an interview and they ask “why do you want to work here”, I mean sure you can say it’s because you’re bout 4-5 seconds from putting a foot in your old bosses’ ass, or that you’re just not quite in the shape that would lend itself to a lucrative career stripping or whatever the actual answer is, or you can make up some bullshit about how you love the culture and believe you can excel here.  Sure, you can tell your 6 year old why Mommy was making those noises, or you can make some shit up that they are going to grow up and realize was all bullshit anyway like how Columbus was a heroic explorer or fractions.  Perhaps, you want to tell her about that girl in college who had this wine move that would make you tap out every time and sometimes you think about her when you need to get a good shot off (Sidenote: don’t ask that best ever question, nothing good comes of it). Sometimes the truth is just a wee bit too real for the situation at hand.  Even then, however, the lie is summoned.  You’re asked a question, and the best answer just happens to not be the correct one.  Being real, some people just aren’t even worth the lie, parents could whoop your ass, bosses can fire your ass, baes won’t sleep with your ass….how does a stranger affect anything?

Then there’s the other side, the lies without self service.  Lies when the other party ain’t buying it, lies when it the payoff isn’t even worth it, or you’re just volunteering false information for people who never even asked (hi Twitter).  THAT kind of lying irks my nerve.   Don’t lie to me unnecessarily; I take it as a personal assault on my own intelligence, I know better and you should know I know better enough that you’re better off not wasting either of our time.  In addition to that, when you’re willing to blatantly lie about something so minuscule, I can no longer believe anything you have to say.  If you’re going to lie, at least make it worth your while, it’s like overdrafting your card for a coffee. Contrary to every superhero except like Iron Man and black Green Lantern’s belief, lying usually isn’t protecting someone from harm, you’re making a conscious decision to try and deceive.  Withholding the truth takes away my right to make a decision based on the facts.  (This could take a scathing detour…..let’s take it back a few steps)

3…….2…….1

Lying is a burden, white lies or otherwise.  Too many I’m fines, its ok, and soon you just find yourself in denial.  What we probably lie about the most is our own feelings.  We’re supposed to play it cool, nothing phases us, hashtag unbothered. No one wants to be miserable, but instead of working through the thing that is making us unhappy, we just pretend we are, especially publicly.  Personally, I’ve gotten better at telling people if and when I’m upset.  After I get it out, now I am fine, and can mean it when I say it.  Lying is also embarrassing, no one wants to be exposed as a liar.  They’ll remain persistent, even flip the script and get offended.  The lengths some people go to keep the lie alive, it soon isn’t even about the original lie, it’s the fact after all this you just can’t go back (shoutout Adnan Syed, he did it, don’t debate me).  We all know that person who just lies for no reason to the point every time they speak it’s becomes an inside joke.  Their tweets and statuses are riddles with unintentionally comedy to every one who is hip to the shenanigans.  While I take offense to lying to me personally, lying otherwise is just hilarious to me.  I have a boy, he’s in his 20s, still lies about getting some.  Every allusion to it warrants a side eye and a chuckle, asking for details? Icing on the cake.

Lying just takes too much effort. Me, I rather keep it 100…..a good 85% of the time.  I’ll lie in an interview, but there’s a difference between oh, I love working with others and I thrive off criticism and I have a degree in engineering.  I probably won’t tell you that I think that tattoo is awful, but I’m not going to say I know how to do one, give me $40 and I got you.  The truth really is freeing, the truth is cool, someone comfortable with who they are and they who own it, you can’t help but respect it.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… HOTEP

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I remember I took a black consciousness class in college.  I enjoyed the class, it was one of the few times I was encouraged to write more from feeling than from research.  The professor urged debate, sometimes enlightening other times it felt like a derailment, I could argue with my peers at lunch, I paid for a class. Anyway, certain classmates would especially irk me, I don’t even remember their names (shit am I old now) but I remember they were so fake deep; they would have the most asinine theories, separatist logic, just loud and wrong all the damn time.  They were basically everything I hate about hotep twitter now.  Now, “Hotep” originally refers to  peace, attached to the names of benevolent rulers in ancient Egypt.  These days, it refers to dude on the internet who lives at home, rocks basketball shorts as underwear and views himself as a King.  Or as some women on twitter would say, ashy. 

Hoteps aren’t that hard to spot, they usually hide behind images of a black revolutionary on internet spaces that have a large amount of black women, they are in, well, black consciousness classes.  Their mission is noble, for the betterment of their people,  their methods, such as internet trolling, are not.  They love to make memes with Egyptian images or the same 6 stock images of a black couple with things that only they and people like them would ever say or agree with.   They make distinctions between the “woke” and the “sheep”, “bitches” and “queens” , that distinction is whether you buy the shit they’re selling. 

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Then there’s the paranoia.  Everything is a ruse to keep us sleep.  Empire, Love & Hip Hop, Young Thug all ploys to set back black people. They are showing men kissing on television and now black boys are going to turn gay.  Young Thug is wearing a dress because the white man wants black men are being feminized.  Feminism has black women are being brought up to not need a man so where are the black babies going to come from now?  We’re going extinct (because cops keep killing us for the mildest of inconveniences) because the black woman is being too difficult and won’t worship their crown less king. They have declared war on feminism, this radical wave of free thinking has turned women against their fellow man.  Hoteps operate under the guise that the worst thing a black woman can be is alone, they themselves are alone but as men they have the illusion of having not yet chosen (even if no one checking for them maybe super liberal white women who think they’re deep).

The hoteps are quite a misinformed bunch.  They often quote writers who quoted a writer who quoted another one who referenced a text another writer claims to have read.  They love misleading surveys and made up facts about Ancient Egypt and slavery.  They’re contrarians, so whether it’s some new Jordans out or a new movie, they will not only hate it but will dig into the depths of fake deep to try and shame you for it, likely with the Harriet Tubman “if they knew they were slaves” quote, completely out of context.  Millenial militants love to tell people about themselves….via $400 iPhones. 

Like I said, Ashy’s heart is in the right place, but their head….is firmly in their behind.  Behind the flawed rationale and stench of self importance, is still a man.  Insecure, frightened, but still a man, a brother, a comrade.  Like my old classmates, sometimes you can’t help but just shake your head and laugh at their tomfoolery. They are glorified cyberbullies, they like to type loud as a motorbike but wouldnt bust a grape in a fruit fight.  Stay woke, tho.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… LEAGUE

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Can I sound full of it for a second? I think I’m a good looking dude; symmetrical face, straight white teeth, melanin on fleek, hairline isn’t doing the cha cha slide.  I mean sure I wish I was little bit taller, wish I was a baller, but I understand that I’m not everyone’s type.  At the very least, I don’t think a woman would see me and say ewww. Well, I hope not.  (Then again, my last two instagram selfies flopped like a Johnny Depp movie. Maybe I am ugly, whatever.)  When it comes to meeting women, I know my strengths and weaknesses.  I’ve spoken before how I don’t feel like I’m ideal for online dating.  I’m more charming than striking and it’s harder to convey that with a head shot and talking about my favorite books.  I feel like I could probably write the hell out of a personal ad though, too bad those are for serial killers and women born before 1975.  I’m not really a club dude, I’m not about to yell in your ear.  A quiet, social setting where I can make small talk and people watch, that’s my bread and butter.  As for the women I approach, again, I’m very meticulous, maybe to a fault. I tend to go for the one girl who’s more quiet than me, pretty but demure, polite so she’s more likely to humor me than be like “boy bye”.  I say all that to say, I ain’t in this to be getting shot down.  You can go after the baddest chick in the place, I’m going to her homegirl who probably got dragged out tonight and we going to have a nice conversation about how you probably have no chance with her.

I don’t believe in “leagues” per se, well at least in looks. Everyone’s attractive to someone or at least a fetish (Kidding, mostly). Anytime I think about someone “out of my league” I think they might be looking for a little more than I am willing to have to give. A kid with a 2.4 GPA would be remiss to apply at Harvard, it’s not impossible, but those efforts would be best used elsewhere. I think that’s where I feel leagues have a place, just having reasonable expectations. Not necessarily psyching yourself out of trying, but use common sense. Otherwise, you end up on Catfish completely befuddled that the model you met online who you only text and fell in love with in 2 weeks isn’t the person in the picture.

Sure, I outkicked my coverage, women way better looking, women with money, way more morally righteous. Some outkicked their coverage on me, I’ve been captain save em or just liked who liked me. Dating “up” or “down”, while it may work for some people but I like someone who at least averages out to be my equal. I rather be a cute couple than it being painfully obvious that one of us can and should do so much better. I want us to both feel like we’re winning, both feel secure because reassurance is important but there’s something to just being self aware that we just…fit. Well at least until I get too comfortable, get fat, lose my hair and she is 42 still looking 24, cuz black don’t crack. #Relationshipgoals.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… COFFEE

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I remember my first sip of alcohol, my first pair of Jordans, my first fight, my first kiss, my first time, hell even the first time I cursed.  Yet I don’t remember one of the most critical times in my life, the first time I had coffee. Well, I remember vaguely one day my mother asking “since when did you drink coffee?” and suddenly as I got up for school and she for work there was more coffee in pot to account for me.  When there wasn’t, there was a Dunkin Donuts down the street from my high school and I would take the bus 3 stops past the school and get cup and walk back up.  I don’t remember how or when I started but one morning I drank coffee and have ever since.  I was closer to 16-17, while these days I see kids who cant be older than 12 in coffee shops getting their fix.  They’re an obnoxious rag tag bunch,  already hyper to the point I don’t see how serving them caffeine is not unlike giving a heavily intoxicated person more alcohol.  In a perfect world the Soup Nazi would be at the register to declare “NO COFFEE FOR YOU” and send them on their way.  Better yet, the Soup Nazi could go ahead and get rid of the rest of these people on my worst people at the coffee shop.

– Anyone who wants to discuss race with their barista

– Any barista who wants to discuss race with their customer

– The One who is so late for work he’s going to spend 15 minutes in line complaining about being in line

– The Intern who has to get 15 different orders for the whole office

– The “Lemme Get Uhhhhhhh….”

– The One who is completely oblivious that their drink is dripping

– The Employee who clearly heard you say half ice and gives you full anyway

– The One who doesnt say thank you when you hold open the door

– The One who doesnt actually like coffee so they get whipped cream and syrup on top like its a damn Sundae

– Anyone under 18 who doesnt work there

– The one who will pronounce Espresso with an Ex and you will like it 

– The One who orders Decaf with splenda and dairy free cream…why are you here?

– The Starbucks barista who corrects you when you say Medium. Asshole.

– The One who is there because their friend works there

– The One who remembers their 7th cup free card because I never do

– The One who wants to make small talk when its clear I havent had my coffee yet

– The One who gets an iced coffee when its -12°

– The One who pays with a handful of change from the car

– The One who pays and then remembers they have a coupon

– The One who never throws away the paper from the straw

– The One who could support their local library but insists on hanging out at Starbucks

– The One on their phone they dont realize the other register is open until a second before the person behind them tries to go order and they then cut that person off……wait that’s me. Welp.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… AFTER

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I don’t talk about sex a lot here.  Well,  for one I think when men write about sex it can go way left real quick.  You can come off as over compensating or just plain ol lame.  The other reason is outside of my core 5 readers,  there’s a 6th alternate, who I’m probably having sex with or at least trying to.  Not long after finding out about the blog will go back and read the blog.  So, hey sweetie.  Anyway, when you’re single (or even when you’re not) there’s always that moment when you realize you slept with someone you probably shouldn’t have.  Whether it’s an ex, someone you barely know, or someone you know you aren’t that interested in but I mean it’s like right there, on a platter,  #thelob is just sailing through the air and you’re in mid flight and the flesh is weak.  And well, even though one knows to use discretion; shit happens. Then after you’ve satisfied this craving,  you’re left with the 50 Thoughts you probably have after having sex with someone you probably shouldn’t have had sex with. (This may or may not have happened. Last week or 6 years ago, I’ll never tell)

1. Good game,  good game.

2. You see her stumble when she got up,  you the man yo

3. I needed that

4. I can’t believe I felt for that,  am I really that easy

5. She knew what this was…. I think.

6. I knocked that out the park,  I gotta be top 5

7. *sorts through personal top 5*

8. *gets lost in thought about the best ever*

9. Wonder what she up to?

10. Are you really doing this now?  You just had sex like 5 minutes ago

11. Round 2 sponsored by whatshername

*cue Paul McCartney whistle solo from All Day*

12. I’m a horrible person.

13. Listen to them snores, again you the man yo

14. Why do women pretend they don’t be snoring

15. I don’t think I’ve met a large breasted woman who didn’t snore

16.  There’s probably a connection there,  I should look that up later

17. I hope she has plans tomorrow morning

18. (See #12)

19. Snores aside,  she’s cute when she sleeps

20. I could have this everyday if I wanted

21. *remembers why I can’t or shouldn’t want to*

22. Yet I just slept with this person,  what is wrong with me

23. Nothing changes here,  right?

24.  Thinking about it she nestles right outside the top 5

25. (See #18)

26. I wonder how many calories I burned

27. I don’t even sweat this much when I jog

28. I wonder if I’d be in better shape if I just got to do this more

29. I wonder if I’d get to do this more if I was in better shape

30. So do I tell, ________ ,  we not together but still

31. Meh,  I rather not.  Why mess up a potential good thing over a bad one

32. Nope,  I will not #25 that. 

33. Roles reversed,  would I want to know?

34. Heh, maybe.

35. I should call her…

36. Are you really doing this now? You just had sex like 10 minutes ago.

37. Has it only been 10 minutes? (that’s not what she said..*rim shot*) 

38. Maybe I shouldn’t do this again, never been a FWB guy

39. Is there a way to say, “I don’t think you can handle this” without sounding pretentious?

40. No. No, there isn’t.

41. Why is it when you tell someone you don’t think they can do something they just accept it as a challenge

42. How about, I can’t handle this…the guilt and whatnot

43. Kinda pretentious. Maybe I should just sleep on it.

44.  This best part of waking up…

45. (See #25)

46. I need to get away from this woman because I have no self control

47. Her phone was going off all night,  I hope it wasn’t some emergency

48.  Boyfriend……oh yeah,  forgot about that.

49. This definitely needs to never happen again…..so # minus well get one of the road?

50. (see #45)

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… DRUNK

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I’ve probably been drinking for almost a decade five years *wink*.  Yet I don’t even have a favorite alcohol or even a drink; most of the time I just drink what everyone else is, I’m kind of a leech in that regard.  Shrug life.  If I’m at the bar or a club, I’ll probably get a cranberry and vodka just because for a long time I didn’t know what else to get. Also, bartender suggestions always suck, its always so special on some stale flavored alcohol they want to get rid of. Beer is no different, I’ll get Heineken or a Bud Light on tap.  I used to drink Coronas because in college I drank Coronas because they aint know no better and neither did I. Wait, I’m lying I was dating a Dominican and her family got me onto it.  In college, we drank Natural Ice and Keystone because apparently kegs only work with the worst beers ever. Good times tho. So #Thesearemyconfessions time; I’m a poser. I’m not a big drinker. (I’m sure my alcoholic readers already rolled their eyes at C&V and Heinekens) I drink socially because well, you know what’s really annoying, drunk people when you’re sober.  My father hasn’t had a drink in about 30 years, somehow he’s just grown immune to the nonsense that is a family of heavy drinkers. I think eventually that’ll be me (I wanna say by time I’m 30….eh, maybe first kid….er, by time that first kid is walking and talking) but until then I’ll play the alchomeleon.

Now, the key to being an alchomeleon is adjusting to different circles.  Depending on the circle I’m in, I have a pretty good idea of what they’re drinking and my own limits.  (via trial and error of course).  Got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run. 

In my immediate family, we drink white.  Not much different than college, they make mixed drinks that taste good.  Too good that you forget that you’re consuming alcohol and now you’re sleep.  Vodka is a silent killer, I’ll be perfectly fine until I stand up and the rest of the world is still seated. Vodka drunk for me is sleepy drunk.  Speech gonna slur, Im going to be leaning on something at all times.

Then there’s that brown.  When I first started drinking, we would all throw in on bottle of Hennessey and Remy.   And you know what you needn’t give a bunch of teenage boys, Hennessey and Remy.  This is thinking too much drunk.  This is drunk dialing your ex and ranting your side of the story even though you broke up with her drunk.  Its belligerent drunk.  If Hennessey is on the menu, Ill get a little and I’ll babysit it the entire night.  I don’t want those problems.  Same goes for Crown, which is a bottle of bad decisions.  I have this huge bottle of crown in my house, no idea how it got there, and even when I pour myself or others a drink it just seems to never go away. It might be magic. It’s going to make a great centerpiece when I finish my minibar because I seen minibar on HGTV and decided I wanted one when I was probably drunk on this magic Crown. Dont drink Crown. 

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Also early in my drinking days, like 2006, we had a major Patron kick.  Damn you Yung Joc.  That was hyped up drunk, like Thank God Vine didnt exist yet drunk.  I thought oh maybe I was 18 then, Patron can’t be that bad, had some again later in my 20s, same result.  As a rule, tequila is a go to at a club,  somewhere it’s okay to be turnt.  Also, karaoke night.  And of all the liquors tequila probably makes the *subway passes*

There’s also scotch drunk, which is pretty much what Steve Urkel drank to become Stefan. I don’t actually feel drunk, but the liquid courage is too skrong.  This is usually out with coworkers, suited up, I just feel cooler.  Scotch also is clutch for tooth pain. 

Beer/wine drunk aren’t much different, I’m not drunk but I’m not quite me.  This is usually when I am home alone, beer and wine just happen to be there from the night before so I have a drink with dinner.  One time I can recall being really wine drunk was I went to a wine and cheese tour and I dont think you’re supposed to drink as much as I was drinking but it was my first one, how else would I learn.  Fun date tho.

Then there’s what have I done drunk.  These include
1. Guinness, because gross. 
2. Jägerbombs, which have led to some stories I’ll never tell.
3. The original Four Lokos, which was literally 24 oz of how was this ever legal, 4. Some mystery drink at a frat party one time that I have no idea what was consumed
5. Lean, which I haven’t had personally but from the way I’ve seen friends act on it, I just don’t want them problems. And RIP Pimp C.
Blackout drunk is where I get off, at that point I’m not even blending in with the crowd I’m completely removed from it.  At that point, theres no silliness, or hype, or even cool, you’re just like a Walking Dead zombie.  I’ll never get why people ever push themselves to that limit.

Still, I don’t think I’m THAT different when I’m drunk.  As an introvert I feed off energy and my environment.  I can be charismatic, smooth, fun, and even an hothead just off who I’m with.  Drinking just…gets me out my own head sometimes, which is necessary.  I typically don’t drink when I’m sad or angry, or alone because for me drinking enhances my experience it doesnt create one.  As I get older, I’m becoming less and less reliant on a buzz to have a good time whereas before I would head straight to a bar just so I can feel comfortable simply being out.  Eventually I’ll be at a place where I’m not at mixers still using the “oh that looks good” at the bar.  I do still want my minibar tho. For decoration of course.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… KISS

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[EDITORS NOTE: Who do I think I am, waltzing in her a week and a half later with a repost. Well, I be busy. Not really. I’ve actually been working on some things that I will gleefully tell you about, Tuesday? And per usual with reposts I’ve sprinkled in updates, enjoy]

As you know, I consider myself a captivating courter.  I love “the chase” if you can call it that, it’s more of a beckoning, chasing implies you’re the only one with something to offer, basically, I want you to want me *Miguel voice*.  The wooing is typically apexed by that first kiss, while I typically like to kiss anyway, it’s that first kiss that let’s me know, Game. Blouses.  All kisses are not created equal, I’ve had my fair share of bad ones, and if the studies hold true that the average person will have 28 first kisses in their lifetime, I have at least a dozen (well been about 2 years since this post, lets just say I’m about 68% there) good or bad left to experience, well unless I get married on something. (Welp, Still not married)

Way back when in “Underrated“, I told you about the worst kiss I ever gotten, need some gum just thinking about it…

Unfortunately the worst kiss I ever got has been topped. Like, it was abhorrent; the lob was thrown and I declined because I was that turned off and may or may not have blocked her number on my way home, I think she like licked the inside of my upper lip, where they do that at, I hate the man that told her that was cute, I hope he stubs his toe like twice a week. This kiss was in fact so bad I revived a blog post from 2013 just to vent. But back to the post

From that awful kiss (and this one), I knew I would not want to be with her romantically.   As Eminem said, “You only get one shot do not miss ya chance to blow”, pun intended.  Other times, I dated bad kisser anyway, even though the poor kissing chemistry was a prelude to the relationship that would follow.  But what makes a one a bad kisser. Men are called out a lot, women not as much.  Why? Because men don’t care.  Well we care, but we’re more tolerant of the kiss challenged; we’re focused on the ultimate goal

But as I said, a bad first kiss usually sets a precedent. Like Ol girl without #daBreff I was instantly turned off (not that I was much in the first place) never mind she would dare to kiss with her breath smelling like stale yoga pants.  I mean don’t you taste your own breath, why you think Pam from Martin never got a steady man? Another example; Madame, was a pecker.  Her mouth as closed as she was emotionally. Bazinga.  It was a power struggle she would want to peck I would want a wee bit more affection. It would represent our relationship she continuing to give me the minimum and me wanting more. On the other end of the spectrum, was another girl who damn near ate my face.  She was too open, too easy, and I may or may not have used it to my advantage.  All in all, a bad kiss is the ultimate buzzkill.  All the leadup to…..that? It’s like the ending of Harry Potter, 8 damn movies and he killed him in 5 minutes.  That’s some old bull….wait where was I? Oh yeah kissing n sh t.

While bad kisses are a sign of impending doom, good kisses, I can’t quite make a read on either. Sometimes it’s a sign of love, most of the time just intense physical attraction.  Some people are just naturally affectionate but to you (or them) it feels like every romantic movie scene they ever witnessed.  Perhaps it’s silly to put any stock in something someone else finds meaningless, enter worst kisser #4, random drunk elevator girl in college, but so far the correlation has been better kisser = better chemistry = better relationship.  I think I might could be on to something. Or not. Shrug life.

-Stan-

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March 18, 2015 · 6:55 pm