Sunday, November 27, 2005

No turkey for me...thanks

I wasn't really in the mood for celebrating this Thanksgiving. Coincidentally, it was also my 29th birthday, and I wasn't much for celebrating that either. I was in NYC last weekend and I had a great time, so that fun just sort of carried over. I think the last time I had a revelrous birthday celebration, I was 26. My last 3 birthdays have been spent in quiet reflection. Of course I talk to some friends, but other than that, it's me and my thoughts.

Like most other people, my life at 29 is not what I expected it to be, but I'm sure I could have done worse. I did expect to be published by now. I was sure I'd have a degree. I thought I'd own my own home and I figured I'd only be on kid number one. I didn't expect to be divorced by 26. But I also didn't expect to be happy (usually) with being single, i.e., comfortable in my own skin.

As someone else brought out, the older I get, I realize more and more how many stupid people there are in the world. I had a conversation with my ex-husband the other day about the kids and I realize that his conversation has the same content as when we were 22 and 23. That was more than a little disturbing. (Sometimes I swear I know how Mary J. feels when she looks at K Ci.)

I can say that this has been a year for me to conclude old business. There are no skeletons or blasts from the past that I have to worry about. I guess my gift to myself this year is peace in my thoughts.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005


"Cornbread...ain't nuttin' wrong with dat."
-Chris Rock "No Sex in the Champagne Room"

I'm tired as a mofo. I know as progressive black folks, we're not supposed to give in to stereotypes, but hell with it. I'VE GOT THE 'ITIS. For those of you that don't know (more likely than not, white folks) "'itis" is a deriviative of the term "negroitis" which describes the condition of black folks following a delicious meal. One might argue that white folks experience this as well, but...well...who cares?

No joke, despite my ladylike appearance, I had to stop myself from pulling an Al Bundy at my desk. Who knew chicken, collard greens (even without the pork) and work just DON'T mix? Despite the fact that I'm going home early, I have a billion things to take care of so that I can relax and enjoy my vacation.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

The Maverick

They can't stop me, naw they can't stop me
They keep playin', keep sayin' I'm cocky
They keep tryin' but too tired to top me,
Their best bet is to fall back and watch me
-"Watch Me" Little Brother

By the time I was two years old, I'd had two surgical procedures which required me to spend prime toddler moments in a body cast that spanned from my rib cage down my entire left leg. Folks worried about how that would impact me. How would I function as a child that couldn't play. In true Breez fashion, I said to hell with the dumb shit and lived my life. I worked the hell outta that cast. There is a picture somewhere of me tumbling in it. According to my parents, I was trying to do headstands in traction. There was no breaking Toddler Mav.

So now what's the fucking deal with me? A little rain fell this month and my ass was SHOOK. Of all the things I made it through, now I shut down? My crib is looking like 20 years of oppression. (Well, maybe just three.) Damn. What's funny is that I went through the same shit last year. I refuse to spend my time huddled under a blanket watching fucking "Girlfriends" reruns snotting, "I can't wait for this year to be over."

This year has been a fucking BLAST. I had a flyy ass living room for about 8 months. (DAMN YOU KATRINA!!) I got a chance to hang with my Soul Twin on a few occasions this year. My son received an award for reading at the 3rd grade level in kindergarten (and currently has an A-PLUS average). My little sister matured exponentially (I really had to cut the cord). I discovered that there are still some good brothers out there. My shoe selection is tight, my crib is hot (well, it'll be hotter when I get furniture) and I've almost doubled my salary. I discovered books that nourished my mind and soul. I conquered the anger that I had against my ex-husband. I have learned that Oprah is to be feared and avoided at all costs. I've made new friends, found new fam and even though I still don't know what the hell I wanna be when I grow up, I'm closer "now" than I was "then".

Even the negative things were turned into blessings and I can do nothing but be eternally grateful to my Creator for that. Nothing was more beautiful than the outpouring of love and support I received following Katrina. To all of you who did ANYTHING, whether it was a kind word, clothes, money, a prayer, whatever, THANK YOU. Thank you for letting God work through you and bless me and my family.

I can't let the rough spots shake me. I can't lose myself. Seeing how far I've come let's me know how far I have to go. But I'm not scared. I can do this. Watch.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Universal imbalance

"Sometimes I think there's no point at all and that's the point."
Mozelle Batiste Delacroix - Eve's Bayou

My karma is fucked up. Maybe I should start doing good deeds like that "My Name Is Earl" dude. (Does anybody watch that show?) I don't want to seem like a whiner, because there are good things that happen to me. But they usually follow some earth shattering tragedy. (I'm not complaining about blessings. Just frustrated.)

I'll be real: I'm cute, young, hard working, got all my teeth, and chronically single. The only reason I'm NOT completely flipping out is that Halle Berry can't seem to keep a man around either. Pitiful, yes. But it gets me through the day (and night) and that's what counts.

I make decent money, but since I type 88 wpm, I thought I'd be more than the print beyotch. Again, this is whining. I complained about working like a dog at my last job, but being this idle is sort of scary. Like one day they're going to wake up and say, "We're paying this bitch HOW much to click the "print" icon?" and the party will be over.

This month has been a study in, "Thanks but no thanks" or "Sorry, we don't carry that color in your size" or some such nonsense. I think I'm overdue for a "Breez day." A day where the only words I hear are "Oh yes Ms. Breez, right this way," "This has a very slimming effect" and "That's a spectacular idea."

I'm tired. I'm tired of unrealistic ideals. I'm tired of waging these ferocious battles only to realize that I'm in the EXACT same place that I started. For all of my progression and growth, it still just feels like all i'm doing is making wider circles. Is that the point of it all?

Thursday, November 17, 2005

What I believe

"I believe in the sweat of love and in the fire of truth."
- Assata Shakur

A wise man told me that when you can put your cards on the table and not be afraid of the results, that's when you're ready for a relationship. I guess is a telling sign of whether or not your feelings for a person are genuine. A wise woman said that fear is what prevents us from sharing God's most precious gift to us - love. Out of all my flaws, I can say that is NOT one that I have. I have every reason to be fearful, petrified even, of love and all that comes with it, but I can't afford to let it scare me.

Loving a person is worth the sweat it takes to make the impossible attainable. There's nothing stupid about love. People make love seem so unnecessarily complex that it hardly seems worth the effort. However, I refuse to believe that it's not worth it. I refuse to believe that I'M not worth the effort.

Truth's fire comes in when you've taken that leap, but the other person is still on the ledge. They are not only holding on for dear life, but possibly scrambling to get back to the point of origin. It burns to hear someone say that they can't take that chance with you. It would be so easy to criticize that person, and be angry, no PISSED, because you've stuck yourself out there. But the fact is, not taking the leap doesn't make them bad, or less special, or even wrong. It just means that temporary things have to come to an end to make room for what is real and lasting. It means that you can take a special person and put them in the wrong role and that has to be corrected for the sakes of both persons involved.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Why I don't think that Yahoo 360 is real blogging

I guess there's no logical reason for me to feel that way. I just do. I admittedly blog on 360 to amuse myself as well as my friends, but I get no real satisfaction from it. Probably because I have a very low opinion of Yahoo as a whole. In my opinion, it is but a hair's breadth away from Sodom and Gomorrah. You can barely hold a civilized conversation for 3 minutes without some unnecessarily personal sexual inquiry popping up. Then when the person is checked on it, some weak shit like, "My bad shawty, I was jus' trynna get to know you better" is regurgitated onto the screen. No you're not Filthy're trying to get some ass. Some EMAILED ass. They're doing it, because it's worked for them before. Unfortunately for them, I have SERIOUS reservations about dudes that are attracted to women that are willing to email their coochies.

It has also come to my attention that telling a woman that she is smart has the same effect as shiny objects had on that crow from "The Secret of NIMH." This is viewed as the ultimate panty dropper. Unfortunately, my parents and friends have done a GREAT job of encouraging me to educate myself, so mentioning my intelligence is not an automatic "win". As a matter of fact, I'm INTELLIGENT enough to peep the technique and recognize that you're on some bull and keep stepping.

I know all of this sounds bitter and arrogant, but fuck it...color me disillusioned. Have men and women become so disrespectful of each other and themselves that THIS is what dating and the like has come to? I have seen more women justifying doggish behavior because "a man is gonna be a man." Whose man? I've seen more women throwing themselves at men simply because they are able to string a seven word sentence together. I've seen more men fall "in love" with woman after woman that they barely even know. I've seen more men publicly humiliate women that gave them far more time than they were worth, only to sing their "woe is me" blogs on Yahoo. What IS that shit about? Maybe I'm just surly and contentious, but it seems like some bull to me.

**WARNING: The above was an unstructured impromptu rant, meant only to allow the writer to get something off her chest.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Got my swagger back

I was REALLY feeling some kinda way on Friday. As mannish as my behavior can be at times, it's surprising what a trip to VS, the salon and some new boots can do for one's attitude. I plan on renting a car this week because I'm tired of being dependent on other folks. It's not that they make me feel bad, but I like being able to do things without having to ask for permission.

My blog imagination has been somewhat tapped out lately so I present you with the "Vault of Orphaned Blogs."

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, "The Vault of Orphaned Blogs."

"It's a train...not the coming of Jesus" Why the f*** are you knocking down old/infirm people to get on the train? Look at the sign, there's going to be another train dufus. All I'm saying is that I've got something special for the person that pushes me to get on the damn train.

"That's horse manure and you know it" Have you ever met someone whose conversation is a study in foolishness. I am convinced that no one person can be that silly and they merely talk stupid out of boredom. I want to believe that in their secret life, they are forumulating a cure for cancer or AIDS or Ben Affleck fans, and they craftily use nonsensical chatter to amuse us peons.

"I cuss too damn much!" I really do. I'm working on it.

"Don't live out your life story on the net." Everybody that reads your s*** ain't your friend. Even if they're not necessarily your enemy, they may be like me: LAUGHING THEIR ASSES OFF! I really try not too, but laughing is a gut reaction for me. It's more or less: "No he/she didn't put ALLLLLLL the business up there." I've seen folks call people out in Yahoo groups about things that only those two people and the Lord up above knew (AND SHOULD HAVE KNOWN) about. Just pick up your face, handle your business in private and keep it moving.

"Am I imagining this?" People that use their cell phones on the bus/train bother me. However, people that use their cell phones on the bus/train and speak in a different language generally seem to speak louder than folks that do the same in English. Recently a lady next to me on the train called someone from her cell and said "Hi, this is mom, I'll be at XYZ station in 20 minutes." Completely normal tone of voice. THEN she called someone else in another language and evidently entered a "I wonder if my loud ass can break the sound barrier if this angry brawd next to me doesn't stab me first" contest. This is not the first time I've noticed this. Stop it.

"Am I the only one on earth that doesn't give a flying fart about Terrel Owens?" Dude always looks constipated, plus he took pictures in a tight azz nipple shirt. That's enough to completely remove him from my radar. However, folks are getting really involved in this beef he's got going on. Maybe I should clarify something for some folks. *steps up to the mic* Ahem...YALL AIN'T GON' GET NO DAMN MONEY FROM HIM!!! *spikes mic on stage*

"Old men are gross" I don't mean regular old men that live their lives and go about their business. I'm talking about these nasty bastards that are on the loose trying to recapture their youth through young (often dumb) women. Realize this the next time you "mack" - you smell like Adidas cologne, liniment and corn chips.

"I am living in an animated world" Quite a few of my favorite shows are animated: South Park, The Family Guy, The Simpsons, most recently The Boondocks if it keeps up the good work. However, throughout the day, little snippets of these shows pop up in my head and sometime almost escape with Tourette's-esque fervor. I swear on election day I had to stop myself from saying "Shake them titties when you vote bytch!" at least four times. (South Park fans know what I'm talking about.) Something is wrong with me. I need help. Or at least I need to find something else to do with my spare time.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Why I'm not married

. . .to an asshole. Last night while (not quite) minding my business* and waiting for a ride at the train station, I saw this lady picking up who I would assume is her husband. I should first note that he had "First Class Undisputed Douchebag" written all over him. Don't ask me to explain, just something about his face and demeanor annoyed me as the two of us waited. Well, his wife pulled up to the Kiss & Ride area and stopped the car. SHOULD be end of story right. Wrong. Since the car door was not perfectly aligned with where he was standing, he tapped the car, snapped his fingers and pointed to the exact spot that he wanted the car to be so that he would not have to walk the extra two steps. I was staring in amazement. What part of the game is THAT? *sigh*

Monday, November 07, 2005

Protecting Our Children

We live in an age of a million and one distractions, and that can make it hard to keep tabs on our kids. However, it is literally a matter of life and death. Parents, PLEASE talk to your children about the danger of meeting people on the internet. Please see the importance in knowing who your children are speaking to and befriending, on the internet and off. It's really important that you build up a rapport of communication with them as early as possible. This sets a foundation for when they become older and more likely to "close up."

It is surprising and disturbing how many parents don't know their children's moods. "I don't know" is NOT an acceptable answer when it is related to what your child is thinking and/or feeling. As a parent, it is your job to find out. If you don't, believe me, there are thousands of filthy perverts that will take your place.

It is NEVER to early to educate your children sexually (i.e., teaching them what is and is not appropriate). It is NEVER too early to school them on the importance of being aware of their surroundings. Stress the importance of not wandering off. Teach your kids their addresses, telephone numbers, their ENTIRE NAME, your ENTIRE name, the name of your parents and the name of your workplace. Teach them how to get out of the house in case of an emergency. Establish a code word in the event that someone else has to pick them up from school and TEST them. All of these things seem like no brainers, but there are a lot of children that do not have this information. If they can recite the drivel that is on the radio, then they can recite something useful.

Teach them the value of hard work so that the pull of easy money is not as strong. Tell your daughters that they are beautiful, that way, when they hear it on the street, it's not surprising. Instill in them a sense of morality. Let them know that there is a higher power (beyond us as parents) that they are accountable to.

Though doing this may not be easy, it is WELL worth the effort.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Grown Woman Sheeee-at!!

I am exactly three weeks from my 29th birthday. Damn, I'm old as a mug. I remember being thinking that 30 was old. Now I'm talking shit like, "The party's just beginning." In my mind I'm telling myself, "Sit your old ass down somewhere before you break something." Don't get me wrong, I don't think that I'm nursing home old. However, there are some things in the past couple of years that I have just let go.

No more boy-toys. From my teenage years until my mid-20s, there was always a guy in my life. So once I ended my marriage, I started getting a little figety. I didn't want another relationship, but I didn't want to be "alone". So I primarily dated younger cuties because they were far less likely to go the serious route. (Yes, I was a psuedo-Mrs. Robinson.) For a while it was fun, but it ultimately became boring. Dating JUST to say I was dating rather than spending time with someone that I enjoyed is really just not the moved. It also propelled me into a nun-like existence for a while.

Stuff just isn't all that serious to me anymore. I don't have beef with anyone because, if I find you annoying, you get no shine. When people do things to piss me off, I dust it off and keep moving. A couple of weeks ago my kids' dad cussed me out royally on the phone and all I did was laugh and hang up. I'm not walking around like a zombie, but if I spend my entire life addressing every perceived slight and/or affront. There's a lot of important stuff that I'll be missing out on. What's the purpose of carrying out an argument with someone that I think is stupid anyway? *shrug*

I've become comfortable in admitting that I'd like to get married day. It had better happen quick though. Once I'm convinced that I'm not jaunting down the aisle again and I buy my first pair of granny panties, there's no turning back. However, that aside, after my divorce, I admittedly felt obligated to hold up my fist, burn my bra and proclaim that I didn't need a man in my life. And I guess when you think of "need" in terms of "I'll die if I don't have one" - I don't need one. However, in terms of wanting a partner that I value, that values me as a person and will love, repect and help guide my children, yeah, I need that. I deserve that. Nothing wrong with that.

I am becoming more like my mother. She had this way of saying precisely what was on her mind without crushing a person's spirit. I won't say that I've mastered the art yet, but I'm getting there.

I'm becoming more of a doer. Once upon a time all I would do is talk big dreams and never take action. One day I started realizing, "I'm not trying to walk on the moon. I can do this." So I went back to school (not finished yet, but it's GONNA happen), started working on my book, moved to the mid-Atlantic and gained about a million tiny victories that only I and the Almighty know about.

I'm a responsible parent. At 22, I was nowhere near prepared for motherhood. My finances were a mess, my house was a mess and my emotions were a mess. This too is a work in progress, but for the last few months, I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It required me to make some very difficult decisions, but I am confident that the things I have done have been for the betterment of my family.

I have become beautiful. I always thought of myself as a funny looking kid. In pictures taken of me, from age 6 to 16, I look awkward and goofy. I let the males in my life dictate whether or not I was attractive. (Five minutes without a boyfriend MUST mean that I'm ugly.) Now, I won't say I don't care, but...well, I don't. I mean, I care, but I don't CARE care, lol. I'm beautiful dammit. I have learned to focus on the people that make me feel good as opposed to those who make me feel bad. It works.

I recognize that tomorrow is not promised. It's a sobering thought and so I try to make every day count. I know I'm a work in progress and I look forward to the mental evolution that comes with age.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Sometimes it's best to find a corner and sit there...very quietly

And 50 Cent is one who would do well to heed this advice. Regarding Kanye West's comments during the Hurricane Katrina telethon, a recent news article quoted 50 as saying, "I think people responded to it the best way they can," 50 told "What Kanye West was saying, I don't know where that came from." 50 Cent doesn't know something...color me unsurprised. Not only is he a shitty "artist," but he can now add "political moron" to his resume.

He then went on to say, "I feel like Kanye West is successful because of me. After 50 Cent, (hip-hop fans) was looking for something non-confrontational, and they went after first thing that came along. That was Kanye West, and his record took off." No Mr. Jackson. After 50 Cent, hip hop fans were gasping for someone that didn't suck elephant ass. Don't confuse the two. I guess he's talking shit to ensure that the children of the good white folks of the world go to see his semi-mediocre movie.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

"Excuse me ma'am. . . may I please roll on your booty?" (REPOST)

My club experience this past weekend, has prompted me to repost (and slightly amend) an old favorite of mine. (Well, that and I'm having blog block.)

I love the occasional jaunts to the club. Some weeks, you just need to watch cuties, have a few drinks and dance your cares away. It's an opportunity to forget that you are overworked, underpaid and occasionally under appreciated. You can be as fun, glitzy or 'hood as you want, and feel secure that at least half of the people won't remember your alter ego because they were probably as drunk as you possibly were, or like you, just looking to let their hair down. However, drunk or sober, the club does not excuse barnyard behavior. Let's explore some recurring club scenarios, where the parties went wrong, and what the polite course of action should be.

1. The Free Drink Scenario s/k/a "Uh uh...I bought that bitch a drink!"

It's not at all uncommon for a man to purchase a drink for a woman, and sometimes her friends (I LOVE that type of guy), to catch her attention. A harmless, good-natured gesture. However, this can be tricky. In Bad Situation #1, the man feels that the woman is now indebted to him and should focus all of her attention on him FOR THE REST OF THE EVENING. In Bad Situation #2, the woman feels that the man who purchased her beverage is somehow beneath her and, though accepting the free drink, is rude and dismissive. This can lead to the occasional Bad Situation #3, which is a combination of the aforementioned situations and all hell subsequently breaks loose. However, the Free Drink scenario does not have to be chaotic.

Men - Once you have purchased the drink, I would definitely recommend that you introduce yourself to the lady. (The guy that buys and lurks is a little creepy.) Be friendly, but not imposing. Don't overstay your welcome. If for some reason, there is no chemistry, or the conversation seems forced, then wish her a nice evening, take your leave and continue to have a good time. YOU CLUBBIN' MAN!! Enjoy yo'self! However, if the two of you are enjoying one another's company, then go with that feeling. Have a good time. However, as a caveat, if after a polite conversation, the woman mentions that she has to catch up with her girlfriends, etc., she's probably not interested. But that is an indication that she appreciated your gesture (and evidently was raised with some manners). It would be unfair of me to not mention that there are times where a brother will buy a drink for a woman and discover that she is ignant or dumb as a box of rocks. Keep hope alive. Don't feel the need to be nasty or combative just because she isn't what you expected. You're more than entitled to use the, "I've gotta check on my people" maneuver and keep it moving.

Ladies - If a man purchases a drink and introduces himself, even if he does not meet your "standards", please be polite. Seriously - who are you eyeballing? All of the rest of the men in the club that did NOT buy you a drink? It won't hurt to have a conversation with a potentially nice guy. If you're not feeling him, after a five to ten minute conversation, excuse yourself. Luckily with all of the extra baggage we are saddled with as women, we have one all encompassing savior - THE LADIES ROOM. Excuse yourself, bid him a good evening and once you leave the ladies room, pick a new spot. You may also use the old "let me check on my girlfriend(s)" routine if you came out with a group. One of those two should derail even the most ardent pursuers, without necessarily making him feel slighted.

Fact to business, as women, we are not entitled to drinks. It is a nice gesture, but using that as some measure of manhood is flawed in my opinion. (Plus my mama always taught me that you don't accept drinks from strange folks all willy nilly.) He also is not obligated to buy drinks for your guzzling ass friends either. I don't know what part of the game that is, but yall need to chill out with that. Again, it's a nice gesture, but not a requirement...and making it a requirement ain't cute. Nothing wrong with being easy going without being easy.

2. The Club Date Scenario s/k/a "Oh HELL NAW! I know she ain't all up on my man like that!"

Simply put, serious couples typically don't go on dates to the entity know as "The Club". I'm sure it's done occasionally, like for birthday parties or other celebrations, but as a rule, a "date" for involved couples, usually doesn't involve the club. That being said, more often than not, if you're on a date at the club, you're not with your man/woman. This is an issue, primarily among women. If the man that you are with begins to dance with another woman, sista, LET IT GO. In a worst case scenario, you have the option of leaving the club. The most baffling aspect of this scenario is that the woman, almost invariably, becomes upset, not with her date, but with the other woman. As though that little succubus had nothing more on her agenda than seducing your man with her mind powers.
This situation can also come about if you happen to see an old flame in the club. Maybe you are sharing a moment, but that will not stop him from sharing his moments with other people as well. This is definitely when confronting the other woman is over the top because, who's to say that YOU are not the other woman? Just a little mental grub for ya.

In either case, take it on the chin. That the situation is not necessarily as serious as you thought, or would have liked it to be. As I mentioned before, you always have the option of leaving. However, there is a saying pertaining to what one monkey can stop - NOTHING! You're already dressed and looking good. Get on the floor and do your "fuck 'em" dance girl! By the way, if the dude brings you out, only to pay attention to everyone else, that's usually an indication that he's probably not what's best for you anyway. Just be glad you found it out sooner rather than later. For those of you who may experience this in a committed relationship, girl, go home and get your shit. If he's rolling on asses while he's in your presence, then please believe he's diving in them when you aren't around.

And while we're on the subject of asses in the club. . .

3. The Stop and Roll a/k/a "Excuse me ma'am. . . may I please roll on your booty?"

I love dancing at the club. Just feeling the music can make me high. However, sometimes, dancing at the club can bring out the animal in folks. Now, I will not speak out against dirty dancing. I've done it myself when the music and company has been right. However, there is a behavior that is becoming more and more common, which I call the "Stop and Roll". This is when the man basically admires a booty so much, he MUST roll on it. . .usually this is not preceded by an introduction. Fellas, THIS IS NOT SEXY. It's creepy and rude and any woman that would allow such a thing is quite possibly not a stranger to the free clinic.

There is nothing wrong with asking a lady to dance. There is nothing wrong with dancing closely. However, there is something wrong with impregnating a woman from behind on the dance floor. If after you've danced with the woman, you think that some close contact would be okay, fabulous. Just, please, go through some type of motion to gain permission.

4. You are not on the pole

For the sisters, close dancing and a little grinding is one thing. Acting as though you're waiting for someone to cram dollar bills up your ass is something totally different. You don't look cute, you don't look sexy - you look like a ho. This is not just my own personal opinion. Whenever I see a woman dry humping some dude while he is standing behind her smacking her on the ass, someone invariably exclaims, not, "Do you see what that lady is doing?" but, "Damn, look at that ho!" If you're cool with that, do you I guess. But do the rest of us a favor and take that shit to Magic City or the Roxbury or something like that.

5. You Only Need One Bath

By this I mean, once you have bathed or showered, please do not "redo" the job by baptizing yourself in cologne/perfume. If I can smell you before I see you, what's going through my mind is not "Wow, who smells so great?" I'm thinking, "Holy crap! Somebody open a damn window PLEASE!" Do the community a favor, hit only a couple of your pulse points, and you're good. If, for some reason, you are not aware of what your pulse points are, then you should be at home reading rather than going to the club.

6. Dumb Bar Conversation - The Scourge of Humanity

We live in the age of information. Therefore, inane conversation about how great you are is really blah. I would rather watch a Brady Bunch marathon than listen to vodka induced dialogue regarding how there are no good men/women left. Conversations about how many men/women you've sexed after meeting them at the club should also be excluded. You're just nasty. (And considering that every bus in the area has the ad stating that the DC area has one of the highest HIV/AIDS rates of any major US city, that makes you stupid as well.)

*This has been a public service announcement courtesy of the "Make America's Club Experience Beautiful" campaign.


Thank you for your support.