We Are Who You Thought We Were

My sincerest apologies for not providing you all with random ShoeBaggery as of late. Now read.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I became what some of you out there like to describe as an asshole. Although I’ve been called one a time or three in my life, I wouldn’t necessarily refer to myself as such; at least not in the traditional sense of the word, but I’ll roll with it. According to most of the dictionaries out there, an asshole is someone who is obnoxious, arrogant, and rude. True: I can be most of that some of the time, or some of that most of the time. It really all depends on what day of the week it is and what controlled substances I’ve abused. I would consider myself more of a new breed of assholes. I’m not at all arrogant, I don’t think. God just happens to love me more than most people. You mad? I don’t do the things I do or say the words I say to be rude or to make people feel bad, unless of course they piss me off. I do it to make people feel happy. So if it calls for me to make someone the butt of a joke so that others can enjoy themselves, well then, that’s a burden I can live with. I’m an entertainer at heart, but sometimes my sarcasm can make that difficult to decipher. That’s my bad. Now get over it.

Being a misunderstood soul can be frustrating, but I must say, when you develop a reputation and people expect you to be an asshole, it’s got its advantages. I can damn near say whatever I want to say and it’s just Byron being Byron. For me it all started sometime in high school. Being that I was pretty short, wore glasses (not a cool, fashionable pair of frames, but the ones that your basic ass insurance covers), and had about as many developed muscles as my nephew does now, I wasn’t what you would call “winning” during that time.
I did notice however, that I always managed to make people laugh. Mostly at the expense of others, but whatever gets the job done, right. Somewhere over the years I began to hear these labels about me being used, such as “mean” or “rude.” And anyone who really knows me knows that I’m one of the nicest people they know. For example, depending on how good a woman looks and how far away she is, I will absolutely open the door for her without a problem. Does that sound like someone who is rude? It’s not even my fault that I am the way I am because more often than not, someone around me will do something or say something to where I have no choice but to make a joke out of it at their expense. And, in my opinion, wasting a good joke is like staying sober at an open bar event. God knows I’d never do that.

Beware of the wannabe asshole, however. We call them douchebags. Think: what most people feel about Kanye West. They’re mostly just sad, depressed people who aren’t nearly as lovable and entertaining as assholes are. There’s a fine line that one must walk; and if not done so correctly, everyone you know or love will come to loathe you. As for the rest of us Assholes of America, we’re not so bad. Think about it. Assholes are generally very witty, confident, and more efficient than those who are not. We don’t waste time with a lot of small talk nor do we consider the feelings of others as much so we can be a lot more productive. Who wouldn’t like those qualities in someone? Sure, we take a lot of unnecessary prejudgment and name calling. We’re like black men in America except chances are we’ll end up in college rather than prison. But I don’t know any assholes, and I know quite a few, who would have it any other way. In fact, I would encourage everyone to go out and be an asshole for a day just to see how much happier and richer your life will feel. Except for the women out there. Being a female asshole is the equivalent of being a bitch, and nobody likes that girl.

Gettin Grown

Sometimes life throws us obvious hints to show us that we’re getting a tad bit old. I remember back in my undergrad days and even the first couple years after college, I was out drinking and/or partying from Thursday night to early Monday morning. And for a time my work schedule allowed me to squeeze a few Tuesdays and Wednesdays in there as well. I never skipped a beat or even woke up with so much as a slight headache. All I needed was a Gatorade and something greasy and unhealthy for breakfast to be recharged. That’s definitely not even close to the case now. I used to be willing and able to go out and play full court basketball…outside…everyday…during the summer. These days, I play like once every 6 months because I don’t have access to a nearby indoor, air conditioned gym. But those are the easy signs that life will give us. Other times, there are more subtle hints in your behavior or your preferences that you don’t even realize the first few instances when they happen. You just wake up and realize one day, “Damn…I think I’m getting old.” Here are a few of the signs I’ve noticed about myself.

There used to be a time when it mattered very little to me (read: not at all) whether or not a girl had a boyfriend. He was virtually nonexistent as far as I was concerned. And for no good reason, I suddenly find myself looking at women’s ring fingers to see if she has a ring on it. It’s actually one of the first things I notice about a woman after I look at her face and her ass. I’m not sure exactly when, why, or how this all started, but I’m kinda happy that it’s something that I notice. Maybe I’m not as horrible a human being as I thought I was after all. Despite the fact that I have no desire to get married in the foreseeable future, I guess it shows that I, at least, respect the sanctity of marriage.

I remember just a few years ago when you could call me at any point before 2 a.m. and I’d be down to go out in the streets looking for a little piece of strange. Nothing else really mattered. It’s not like I necessarily have more responsibilities these days, but I tend to weigh my options a lot more to think of a reason not to go downtown; for example, analyzing the costs and benefits of whether or not I want to use any gas on a particular night. That’s how I know I’ve reached another level of maturity, or maybe I’m just broke. But I figure, what’s the point of going downtown, if I already have a bottle at home, and there’s this documentary I’ve been wanting to see that’s about to come on? More and more often, I seem to be having these “leave me the hell alone” type weekends; where I don’t feel like being bothered by anyone other than someone’s daughter. And I look forward to these days that allow me to not do anything but watch sports, drink beer/whiskey, and read a book.

Lastly, television and music have convinced me that I’m getting somewhere up in age. When I was growing up, the only shows on Nick at Nite were shows that were cancelled before I was even born. Now, I see more and more shows that I grew up watching on there. I keep telling myself that shows like The Fresh Prince, and That 70’s Show aren’t old, but maybe I’m just in denial about it all. As far as music goes, I find myself listening to more and more artists that I didn’t even know I cared for a few years back, and none of it is hip hop related. Most rap music today just doesn’t do much for me like it used to. I especially know I’m getting old when kids are trying to convince me that Lil Wayne is a better rapper than Jay-Z. (Side rant: No further did I have to look than to Twitter to see part of the reason why hip hop just doesn’t interest me as much as it once did. There were people literally excited and happy that an artist sold X amount of albums, and they were bragging about it. You’d think they were getting a percentage of his sales or something. The game is all kinds of fucked up when quality of the product takes a backseat to the quantity sold. Not to the record companies, but to the fans. Makes absolutely no sense.)

What random thing was it that made you realize that you were getting older?

Why The HoH Movement Lives On

I hope the show’s creators made this one up because it just doesn’t seem believable to me. No way is there a woman who exists who is THIS ungrateful. If so, somebody needs to put a foot up her ass ASAP.

How You Gonna Act?

Earlier this year, Illinois congressman Joe Walsh said that the only reason that Barack Obama was elected as president is because he is an “articulate black man”; emphasis on “articulate.” Well that’s a very good observation, as I would think if he weren’t articulate he probably wouldn’t have even made it to be senator. Of course anytime anyone criticizes President Obama, there is some type of controversy that follows. Personally, it matters very little to me how Joe Walsh feels about the president; however I’ve always had a problem with the phrase “articulate black man.” As if to say that it’s some sort of an enigma for a black man in America to be well spoken and able to put together coherent sentences. I’m not particularly upset with Rep. Walsh about what he said. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t had much interaction with black people besides what sees on television.

What does get under my skin is when I hear a black person get upset or call another black person a “sell out” because he or she talks and/or acts “white.” What’s even worse is when a white or Mexican person uses slang, dresses a certain way, and acts with general ignorance, only to have a black person say that the non-black person is “acting black.” The fuck? Maybe it’s just me, but that sounds eerily like an insult. The thing is I rarely ever hear people of other races making claims about how someone is acting a certain color. For the most part, it’s black people who put these social constraints on who should or shouldn’t act a certain way. Is it a bad thing that people of other ethnicities are interested or involved in black culture? I don’t think any white people would have a problem with me being interested in white culture, even though I have no fucking clue what that even means. If it has anything to do with kicking it with hipsters on occasions and watching The Hills, count me in.

True story: I was having a conversation with a young lady with whom I had met recently, who happened to be black. I guess I was speaking too correctly by using proper grammar, but after talking for a minute, she kinda looked at me sideways and said, “You like white girls don’t you?” Taken aback, I asked what would make her ask me that. To which, she replied, “I don’t know. You just sound like you talk to a lot of white girls.” While she was correct in her assumption that I do indeed like white girls, it doesn’t trump the fact that she had no right to judge me. Besides, I’m equal opportunity.

I wasn’t upset with this girl about our interaction. Undoubtedly, I wasn’t hood enough for her, which is fine by me. What I did have a problem with is that by me being an articulate black man, she automatically assumed that I only talk to white girls. A fact that only serves as more evidence that, according to SoulSistah.org, all of the offspring born from black men in the next 25 years will be victims of The Swirl. I’m not going act like I don’t know what it means for someone to say another person acts white; not to be confused with the self-hating Uncle Rukus type Negroes of the world who hate what they see when they look in the mirror and see the color of their skin. Still, shouldn’t this phrase, and others like it, be done away with like The Outlawz’ rap career after Pac died? I guess I’m just a little upset that the standard for acting black is set so low as opposed to its less pigmented counterpart.

 

On Air Ether

…That shit that make your soul burn slow

There’s No Such Thing As A “Sex Drought” For Women

Anybody ever just encounter a bitch every once in a while? And I don’t say that to be a misogynist, that’s just to say some women really are just bitches. I use that word for descriptive purposes only. After some consulting I came to the conclusion that there are some women out there who either haven’t been laid and/or haven’t been done so correctly for a considerable while. Not to say I don’t sympathize for you bitches (no diss to the non-bitter ladies), who haven’t been laid since Kanye’s last last album, but whose fault is that? Even if it’s for religious reasons, which is understandable, it’s still a choice. The fact remains that no woman can ever really experience a sex drought as opposed to a man, who really has to go out and TRY to convince/persuade/trick/drug/manipulate/pressure a woman to have sex, that actively fails on his attempts during his drought. That’s like saying you’re dying of thirst in this Texas heat. Yeah ok, but that’s probably not the equivalent of kids dying of thirst in Africa. MESSAGE!!! It’s one of those things no woman can truly experience, such as having blue balls. Impossible. Any man who’s had it once has had it twice too many times. Is it worse than child birth? Who am I to say, but let me not dwell on this too much before all of these BM’s get mad at me.

The point is, essentially, any woman that’s a 4 or better can have sex when she pleases. So I decided to use a friend as a lab rat. Sorry, but it’s the only thing I could think of that was better than “lab monkey.” You’ll be reading her opposition to my post soon. So, as a test, I asked her when she would be coming to Austin? She replied, “Soon (smiley face).” Then I asked her, if she doesn’t have sex by the time she comes to Austin, would she like to. She came up with one excuse or another, but being the optimist that I am…she didn’t say, “No”.

Now for all of you sex deprived women out there, rolling your necks in disagreement, please come up with one of your bum ass excuses about why you “can’t” get laid. Let’s say, for redundant purposes, a woman comes across a man who is willing to have sex with her. Like right now. Which excuse will you ladies choose to not have sex? 1. I don’t know him that well 2. I’m not a whore 3. I’m too busy (Really?) 4. Because he stalks me. The list could go on and on. And yeah, while men will give you a lot of bullshit reasons for why they can’t get laid, the fact remains that whatever excuse that guy gives for not getting any, he’s trying. He wants to get laid as soon as possible. Unlike you self-proclaimed “female sex droughtees,” no man who hasn’t had any in a while is going to turn down a chick who is DTF; assuming she’s at least a 4+. Unfortunately, for women, double standards exist. And because of bum ass reason #2, they can’t just go home with a dude the first night they meet him. So The Coalition of Women came up with this three date rule so that at the very least you all can make sure that the guy isn’t craaazy…deraaaanged. Understandably so, however these variables do not take away from the fact that women can indeed have sex when they please. Therefore, ladies, your drought is no one’s fault but your own.

I’m willing to bet there are still some ladies out there who don’t agree with my logic so far. I figured as such, so I designed a test for every woman claiming to be experiencing a sex drought at the moment. Scroll through your contact list and select five guys that you’ve already had sex with or would be willing to have sex with. Invite each of them over to play a game of reverse cowboys and Indians with you at some point this week. If no one responds or comes through for you, I’ll tweak my stance on the subject.

What’s A Man To Do?

Rejection is something that every man is or should get used to at some point in his life. At least I hope so because I’ve seen some dudes get turned away so bad at times that I start to think the guy might find the girl later that night and turn her into a case for Benson and Stabler. The point is, no one has ever always gotten the girl he’s gone after, so we recognize the signs to look for if a girl just isn’t interested or not and we adapt to the situation. We’ve got thick skin and, besides, an even better looking woman will come walking through the door in the next 30 seconds anyway. From an early age we’re taught not to wear our hearts on our sleeves when it comes to dealing with women because it will likely end up bloody and bruised. Rarely, however, do you see a man reject a woman in such a manner though. Women are a bit more sensitive when it comes to rejection. One failed attempt and it can ruin a woman’s whole night, which will in turn ruin the night of her girlfriends, which will in turn ruin the chances of any guy approaching anyone in that group and walking away successful. You can see the chain reaction of how an outing can get progressively worse. Guys, on the other hand, can get rejected by the first 20 women we attempt to talk to and walk up the 21^st with the utmost confidence that we will at least walk away with her phone number.

True Story: Two young ladies decided they wanted to engage in a conversation with myself and another friend during some daytime drinking at Sunday Funday. Being the nice guys that we are, we entertained them for a minute, but it was obvious (at least to us) that there was no growing interest with these girls. Taking the role of the good wing man that I am I even told one of them that my boy had a girlfriend…he doesn’t. Looking back on the situation, I should’ve saved myself because it felt like I was being stalked for the next hour. Never have I taken so many random walks around the room and trips to the bathroom to avoid someone. That shit cray!

Simply put there’s no polite way to turn down a woman in public without seeming like a bit of an asshole. It’s easier over a text or a phone call because I just don’t have to answer her. But women, being the egomaniacs that they are, seem to find it impossible that any heterosexual man wouldn’t be interested in them if they approach him first; and for the most part, they’re correct. True enough the easiest solution to this problem is simply lie to them and say you have a girlfriend or an incurable STD. Either way I’m going to end up looking like a jerk because 10 minutes later, I’ll be laying my mack daddy (haven’t heard that phrase in while have you?) game down to some other chick. The only thing is I’d rather not lie; I don’t necessarily have a problem with not telling them the truth, I just want to know if there’s another way. God knows I have enough sins on my plate without having to lie to women when it’s not necessary. Maybe honesty really is the best policy unless, of course, anybody has any other suggestions.

Lowered Expectations

I was recently reading one of those articles in Esquire magazine where several different women were asked to give their insight on the topic of what they wish men knew about them. After getting through a few quotes, it hit me that the majority of the advice was basically along the lines of “We’re women. We do stupid shit, but you should apologize and treat us like queens because, after all, we do have vaginas.” I always knew this was true. And I truly do sympathize with women with a lot of life’s bullshit that you all have to endure such as childbirth and having cramps among other things on a monthly basis, but that shouldn’t excuse the fact that women are the most arrogant, egotistical assholes walking the earth. That’s not a diss, that’s just real. I think the reason for this is mostly because it socially unacceptable to hit women. If a man just raises his voice at a woman in a crowded room, it’s not uncommon for someone to come to her defense. A woman, on the other hand, can walk up to a man and kick him in the balls three times and everyone will look at the guy thinking he must have done something to deserve it. I don’t even want to imagine the kind of person I’d be if I knew that I could do or say whatever and no one would ever hit me.

Even still, you can’t blame a rich kid for being spoiled when his parents have given her everything she’s ever wanted. And because men have coddled women up to this point in history through various mediums such as reality tv, romantic comedies, and Beyonce, they now have unrealistic expectations of what real life and real relationships look like. Let’s talk a little about these mediums starting reality television shows. The kind where 20 men compete to win the heart of a woman by doing various challenges, only to be eliminated one by one until she decides who she wants to be with for the next six months. Or we get the type of shows where women whose lives revolve around brunch, expensive bags and heels, and cat fighting show off their lifestyles because they got lucky enough to trap an athlete, or were smart enough to give some ass to a future millionaire. And because all women believe they’re better looking than the other women on TV, they believe this should be their lives and they have from hence forth lost touch with reality. Ironically just like reality television.

Then you have romantic comedies whose sole purpose of existence is to f*ck over the real life men because we’re compared to some knight in shining armor who for some reason has all the time in the world to spend with his girl and says all the right things all the time. And some women, being the geniuses that they are, ask questions like, “Why don’t you ever say anything sweet like that to me?” Because nobody gave me a script to read from, that’s why. So now women are lead to believe that there is a world full of (insert name of good looking lead actor) who says all the right things, and is always at the right place; and men are just shit outta luck if they can’t compete. I would recommend to the guys reading this to watch more romantic comedies, however; it’s like a recon intelligence gathering mission with prettier women and maybe a good sex scene or two.

And last but not least, there’s Beyonce. I think she’s beautiful and talented, but very toxic to any relationship. For years she’s been giving bad advice to women regarding their love lives even way back in the “Bills, Bills, Bills” and “Independent Women” days of Destiny’s Child. For instance, it’s easier for someone to tell the rest of you single ladies to tell your man to put a ring on it or else when she’s already married. Ladies, don’t let Beyonce get you kicked out of your man’s place because you decided giving him an ultimatum was the smart thing to do. Then she came out with “Diva” and had every busted hoodrat in the club with an inflated ego, thinking they too will get the same treatment as Beyonce would receive. Nah take that shit to the left…to the left. See what I did right there?