Today’s Word is… INTEREST

[A throwback with some updates for the 9-9 and the 2016…]

“How long they choose to love you will never be your decision” – A.D. Graham

Interest is piqued then it’s peaked and it’s all downhill from there. I can be really into someone and then just stop caring, nothing personal. That’s just the way love goes, word to Janet. Unless you’re really oblivious, you see the writing on the wall and the ball is in your court to either try and rekindle the flame or try your luck elsewhere. People lose interest for plenty of reasons, some are your fault most aren’t. Interest is one of those things that you really have no domain over, you can just chalk it up to the serenity prayer or you could drive yourself crazy thinking of all 100 reasons someone loses interest in you. Seeing as I’m about 1/2 crazy I should be able to come up with 50 right? [I’m now about 3/4 there so, lets try and do 75]do I have to say this list is in no particular order and not reasons I WOULD lose interest, okay, this list is in no particular order and not reasons I WOULD lose interest. [Okay these first 25…might be based on true stories]

So 50 75 reasons someone loses interest in you…

75. They are an adamant Bill Cosby truther
74. You ask them what they like to read and it’s Zane and Dicked
73. They get you into a show and as the show gets worse the less you like them
72. They are dating their friend and don’t even realize it
71. They instagram every part of their date except you
70. Their groupme disapproves and is peer pressuring the curve
69. They are passionate about something they suck at and you can’t break it to them
68. They decided to “come out the closet” as an athiest on Facebook
67. They put ketchup on eggs
66. They send recycled pictures
65. They think the Earth is flat
64. They get super drunk in front of your friends and start twerking at the kickback
63. They own a hoverboard nigga segway that people call hover boards even though they don’t actually hover
62. They misspell a lot and never correct it
61. They call and never have much to say
60. They are way too thirsty that it’s uncomfortable
59. They get a septum piercing
58. They talk about how much of of a good person they are
57. They aren’t ready for a relationship but down to do everything couples do
56. Their ex is still the homie
55. Their snapchats don’t match their pictures
54. They like coconut water
53. They are always sharing a story that doesn’t interest you
52. They send like 4 messages at a time, like every time.
51. They appear to have no standards
50. You are fans of rival teams and don’t know how to do playful banter
49. They really just wanted to date for a bit
48. Abandonment issues
47. You’re way too opinionated, sometimes its JUST a TV show get off the soapbox
46. You wore out your welcome at their house
45. Can’t take a joke or understand fluent sarcasm
44. They lied about things early and more time passes, more its going to look bad to get caught
43. They just can’t respect your job/career…Hi Party Promoters
41. You made a drastic appearance change
40. They seen you drunk
39. You’re too much of an ass kisser
38. You crossed the line from open/freaky to just gross/sick
37. You knowingly/unknowingly smashed a homie
36. They couldn’t take you serious enough
35. They legit had no idea you were into them
34. They just didn’t feel appreciated
33. It’s been months and they haven’t seen you without a hat(m)/leggings(f)
32. You already too happy with the pet names
31. You follow too many rules/laws you read on blogs
30. You’re a bandwagon fan, that shows you’re lack of loyalty
29. You don’t have any talents worth bragging about to their friends, no thats not what I meant…yet.
28. They don’t have a masters in Family Psychology, accept the consoling and stop asking for advice
27. You’re a boring texter; send a pic, a Stan of Few Words post you found hilarious, something conversational
24. They got your Netflix password so they don’t necessarily need you anymore
23. They pretended to like your favorite show and can’t stand watching it
22. Holidays are coming and they really aint trying to buy shit but Secret Santa gifts
21. You put them on a pedestal they know they can’t match
20. None of their friends secretly want to smash you
19. The person they were going to replace with you got their act together, mometarily.
18. All your conversations feel like interviews
17. They just really can’t afford to date you right now
16. Yes money doesn’t matter but who doesn’t want to impress
15. A red flag bothers them more than they thought it would
14. They just really rather have you as a friend
14. You done put on some pounds, or lost too many
13. You aren’t dating anyone else, they don’t want to be the default S/O
12. You’re into crappy music and it makes drives horrible
11. You can’t cook
10. They really don’t like your friends
09. They don’t see a future with you
08. They know you’re not going anywhere if they change their mind
07. You’re playing it too safe, start an argument or something
06. Your car/crib is filthy…take pride in your shit
05. You’re not as over your ex as you think, and they know it
04. They really just love the honeymoon period when all their stories are new and jokes are funny
03. You’re opposed to oral
02. Too much of a prude, if you’re waiting at least tease and arouse
01. Gave it up Too easy, now they can never take you seriously

Or you can straight up ask them what went wrong…maybe they’ll answer or they’ll just ignore you further assure nothing is wrong, ignore you some more and then when you express how you feel they will not get an iota of a fuck. Or maybe that’s just me. Whatever.


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Today’s Word is… MASCULINE


I like sports. I like women. I like beer. I like bacon. (Not that much but Im going somewhere with this) I own several suits.  My voice is deep and confident.  I’m a traditionalist.  I fix things. I kill spiders. I walk on the curbside of the street. 

I’m still developing a taste for brown liquor.  I don’t really know shit about cars.  I prefer cats to dogs. I have both ears pierced.  I have a bunch of skin care products. I don’t know shit about cars. I prefer R&B to hip hop.  I enjoy a good rom com.  I have several healthy friendships with women I’m not fucking or trying to.  I know how to cook more things than breakfast and spaghetti.  I have spaces such as this one where I’m able to be open and vulnerable….and I’ll still pull your auntie. I’ll still kick your ass.  Even writing this post, I caught myself falling into that trap; reaffirming my own masculinity with violence,  or sexual prowess (I could put money there as well, but broke phi broke). 

That’s just how men typically are wired, to propound, profess, protect. To hold on to their masculinity and what it represents, power, dominance, strength….even as society evolves and it ain’t that deep, bruh.  It’s an evolution that I see in myself, where a younger me might’ve punched you in the mouth for disrespect, while now I can’t help but laugh at grown ass men fighting for respect.  For who, for what?  A younger me felt pressured to chase every skirt, knock every one out the park…be a man.  Now, I’m more about using discretion and not falling into that me man, me think with other head barbarian logic.  It’s freeing to just live my life without pressure of fitting into a certain mold.  Because frankly, black masculinity can be exhausting sometimes. 

Brothers can’t dance, smile, dye their hair, dress a certain way, cry, like certain things, not be into others, it all just means they’re gay.   I don’t know if Odell Beckham Jr, Jaden Smith, or  Young Thug are gay;  don’t give a fuck really, but they can’t just be…them.  Homosexuality gives credence to femininity which makes it easier to process.  If OBJ is homosexual, I hope he never comes out just to keep people confused and Mediatakeout trying to piece together a puzzle they should’ve never started in the first place.  Young Thug was engaged, David Bowie (RIP) had the baddest in the game, Prince could pull a homophobe and his wife if he was bored enough.  There’s something I just find fascinating about it all, even if a pink dress shirt and a limearita is as close to the edge I’ll ever be, or even want to be really.  Blonde twistouts, lace manties  (yes that’s a thing apparently), and dresses aren’t for me, but if that’s how these new breeds kicking it these days, jah bless.  


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Today’s Word is… FELL


Everyone talks about falling in love, the butterflies, the thrill, the weightlessness all that good shit.  Somewhat ironic that it’s even falling when everything that is typically associated with love rises.  It really should be rising in love.  You rise….and then you fall.  Falling out of love actually feels like falling; rapid descent from where you was previously was until you hit the bottom. Then you rise again. Falling is naturally scary, instinctively we try to stop or at the very least brace ourselves for impact.  Rising, you’re afraid but you also might be curious where you’re going. Doesn’t just makes so much more sense?  I think I’m rising in love for you….well, okay that sounds kinda perverted.   Moving on.  Falling out of love, much like rising in love (This is going to be a thing, deal with it) is a gradual process with signs all along the way, and like with most signs people seem to be oblivious of them.  There’s 38483 articles about the 40 ways you know when you’re/they’re in love, but how do you know when you’re/they’re out?  Sure there’s gotta be 40, right….. (of course, I’ll probably edit this number when I run out of ideas, so whatever it was on just assume it was supposed to be higher)

1. They call you by your government name
2. They text back when you call
3. All their apologies are prefaced by what you did to cause it
4. They sigh when you ask them to do anything
5. You don’t remember your last gift
6. “You look nice” becomes “where you going”
7.  Their friends aren’t as happy to see you
8. They don’t even ask if you need anything when they are out
9. Her wearing your clothes isn’t cute anymore
10. They start watching shows without you
11. You went from funny to everything is a fucking joke
12. You start thinking maybe they are the cause of their problems at work
13. They aren’t impressed by shit you do anymore
14. Dat Mouf don’t do much these days
15. Their profile picture is nicer than any one they sent you
16. There’s been nothing planned months in advance
17. They never tell you what’s so funny
18. They take their phone in the bathroom with them
19. They only say love you too after you do first
20. They have no patience with you
21. They drag your hobbies
22. They drag your friends
23. They drag your family
24. They don’t care about looking good for you
25. Sharing annoys them now
26. They call you out your name
27. They haven’t stopped doing something they promised they would
28. They don’t get jealous or care, really.
29. They go for low blows during arguments
30. They don’t smile anymore
31. They don’t sit next to you when they enter a room
32. You go days without speaking
33. They get theirs and it’s goodnight
34. They are defensive of their ex
35. Their pet don’t fuck with you
36. They don’t greet you or walk you out anymore
37. They are noticeably silent when a relative asks about marriage or kids
38. Fights are more frequent than ever
39. You realize you hate some of their favorite clothes
40. And oh yeah, yall break up

I’ve fallen out of love with my fair share of women, I’ve stood idly by as some fell out of love with me.  It’s humbling, the transition from stranger to someone you’re crazy about to someone you legit can’t stand anymore like what was you thinking?  I don’t have any exes I hate, even the worst ones I’m just indifferent on.  We tried, we failed, we’ll fall rise again. (See how pessimistic that sounds).  I just hope I’m up there for a while, falling sucks.



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Today’s Word is… LOYAL

[Editors Note:  Bhappy Bhanukkah, Murray Christmas, Hit The Kwan(zaa), New Year, New Me…i’m not certain this will be the last SFW of 2015, but it’s probably the last SFW of 2015. I appreciate everyone who has dealt with the sporadic posts over the year and even the ones who stuck around even though I completely forgot to answer your questions…I’ll try to be better in 2016, maybe. And now for your featured presentation]

I walked in knowing it was a bad idea.  I walked in knowing I was throwing away years of loyalty.  Yet here I was at the door, overcome by my own needs.  I go in and sit down, brace myself and a good 35 minutes later, I was officially a savage.  What made it worse was coming home to an appreciative woman, not knowing the happy glow that radiated from me was tainted.  I couldn’t even look myself in the mirror.  I just cheated…….on my barber.  My lineup was crisp, my waves glistened in the light, I felt invincible, yet dirty.  (Okay, I’m being facetious I actually have 4 barbers across different parts of the city but rock with me).  My barber didn’t judge when I came in for just a lineup because I was trying to get braids or months after when I came in with my towel thrown,  he didn’t judge when I brought shorty into the shop (which I recommend; you bring her just so she sees that alluhdis doesn’t just happen and can show off to other regs that that’s you…only on time tho, after that you’re just the simp that brings his girl to the shop with him), he didn’t judge when I was still paying student prices even though he cut me FOR my graduation like 3 years prior, my barber is the real MVP.  The bond between a man and his barber is one that is often misunderstood, because like most man bonds it’s trivialized and dismissed by the outsiders.  Contrary to popular belief, men are fiercely loyal (maybe not to you because he doesn’t  like you enough, sorry) to things we hold near and dear to our hearts. For example

Sports Teams- As a conscious, intelligent black man in 2015, I actually get a lot of how and why I’m loyal to Boston teams given their history.  My answer, my reasons are my reasons.  Sure Tom Brady may or may not be a Donald Trump supporter, every white guy with a Celtics jersey and a Red Sox hat may commit a hate crime (we aint forget,Marky Mark) and I’ve never gone to a game and not been like the only black guy in my section but I grew up root root rooting for the home team and thats just how I kicks it.

That friend- That friend who doesn’t quite have it all together, maybe never will but that’s your man 50 grand.  He’s your kid’s godfather even though you would rise from your own grave before you let him raise your child.  That friend who always will rub your girl the wrong way but you will still cape because that’s the homie and he was there for you 20 years ago.

Favorite Artists- My father’s favorite artists are Toni Braxton and LL Cool J.  I don’t get why either, but let the guy from NCIS drop an album, mixtape, go on tour and he’s right there.  Toni is forever bae, my mother understood, as does his new wife…she comes first.  I think I’ll probably be the same with Bey & Kanye, like listen they were here first and you will deal.

That Girl- Like that friend, that girl is the one you can never tell him about and he’ll always find his way back to.  Maybe not loyal to her per se but the idea of her will continue to tantalize.  

Collections- Whether it’s actually worth money or not, you start a collection, that becomes your thing.  I have every Madden ever for no reason other than when I noticed I almost had every Madden ever I went back and filled in the gaps.  CDs, Sneakers, Stamps, Coins….there is a completionist gene in all of us that just needs to conplete.  *pets Binder of NFL trading cards*

Dishes- Even the non cookingest man in the history of fire has about 3-4 dishes he can make with his eyes closed and will be damned if you tell them they aren’t hitting.  Personally, I think my chicken parm, french toast or grilled salmon are to die for but that’s neither here nor there.

Nicknames- Nicknames never really stuck to me, I always been known by the name my mama gave me, however for others it just works, and that’s their name forever…I know 40+ year old Shizzes because “Sean” is reserved for women he’s fucking. Rules is rules.

Do any of these make sense pragmatically, probably not. However, to understand a man is to understand his quirks and I will say for me at least these are non negotiable.  Sure there’s obvious ones like family, but that’s also rational.  A man who will lay you down for his wife, perfectly plausible.  The fact that same man might do the same over Jeezy…..not so much.  When a man buys in, he BUYS IN, just look at the Box Office numbers for Star Wars when they haven’t actually made a good one in 30+ years. That’s loyalty.





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Today’s Word is… OLDHEAD



It was a nice spring evening, a cold winter night, I sweltering summer day, a brisk fall late afternoon, you could take your pick.  I would walk up the steps to my apartment, shuffling through the mail that seemed to arrive as late as I did.  Greet the neighbor across the hall, as I anxiously tried to get my keys in the door to end this awkward, obligatory conversation sooner than later.  The kitchen was the first room, and I would set the mail on the dining room table and walk either to the bedroom or living room where my girlfriend awaited me.  She’d greet me with a kiss before returning to her blunt and whatever show she was watching.  All them Bravo shows looked alike.  She’d ask about my day, I seldom had an answer for her; work was work…the excitement of my day came from shenanigans on twitter or my commute.  She’d volunteer that she hadn’t been home long, which was code for “I forgot to take something to thaw”.  I didn’t want to be “where’s my dinner, woman” guy so it was a struggle to not be visibly bothered by things like this.  I wasn’t that guy, she wasn’t that woman to stay and take care of house and home, but by circumstance that’s where we were.  She did need to be more responsible, but I definitely needed to chill a bit.  I was turning into my father. At 22.

It wasn’t where I saw myself in my early 20s, fretting about bills, working two jobs to support a pseudowife and no kids.  Most of my friends still lived at home, at worst they had a cell phone to pay for.  Hanging with them became a chore as well.  Not much changed since we were kids, come over, chill watch tv, play video games, try and bring some girls through…except we weren’t kids anymore, I lost the desire to be up in somebody’s mama house like I don’t got all this shit at home.  Post up on the block, for who for what?   But, what else was there to do?  Video games, just kicking back watching the game, clubbing…isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing? So why did I feel so out of place now?  Have I outgrown my life?  Maybe, I was the one tripping or maybe I needed to expand my circle.

Except….I don’t necessarily fit in with the older crowd as well.  They’re married with kids, and running ball might be the most freedom they get all week.  Trust no one plays harder than a 35 year old man who really doesn’t want to go home.  Then there’s older women….well that’s another post. okay I’m lying. I ain’t writing that shit.  But the constant remains the same, I’m not posting up on the block but I’m also don’t want to have to rent my nephew because YOUR party is a kids party until 9:48pm.  So I’m too old for my peers, too young for the oldheads…where does that actually leave me?

Fast forward to now.  I still feel a little too damn old for my own good sometimes, but I’m in a better place with it.  I still get up with my round the way folks, provided there’s something going on.  I’m down to hang with the old heads, provided its happy hour.  My next relationship will advance at a steady pace and I won’t rush to play house.  I’m free to go out where I can find myself waking up on the subway at the end of the line with a dead phone, no cabs and not a clear idea which way was home.  (I’m writing this now, so clearly I didn’t die.)  I can do so, with no wife and kids waiting for me, no one to explain myself to.  I can spend money on Jordans if I want to, I just choose not to.  I don’t think I’m “washed” but I enjoy a Friday night in.  I’ll still eat pizza rolls and beer for dinner when I don’t feel like cooking, I really don’t care about other peoples kids that aren’t blood, I suck at bowling and golfing and I listen to a lot of trash music.  I guess I’m not really into that old head life just yet.  Except with alcohol. I left trash liquor in the 2000s.


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Today’s Word is… ADELE

[Editor’s Note: THIS IS NOT A REVIEW, I don’t know why people would want a review of an album 24 hours after its release, do you really need someone to tell you that you like it.. Or do you just want some talking points to sound smarter when you discuss it? Pewn Pewn, shots fired. And now for your featured presentation]


So I listened to Adele’s new album.  I loved it.  Maybe even more than her previous ones.  (Not to say it’s better, 21 musically is absolutely stellar and the more superior album).  25 is a tale of reflection on the one that got away, unrequited love and “this is probably a bad idea but fuck it, I need this” sex…shit, that’s my life.   (I won’t touch A Million Years Ago, because I don’t appreciate Adele strumming my pain with her fingers, singing my life with her words, it was like how I imagine Ronda Rousey felt when she caught that kick to the dome… I knew it was coming but I didn’t know it was coming…damn you!) As I listen, with each track it sets in that maybe I’m actually the on the wrong side of these love songs.  When did I become the bad guy in this movie?  Is this what white people felt when they first heard To Pimp A Butterfly or Black on Both Sides?  It’s like being the person who watches Hannibal and is like, you know he isn’t that bad, technically he is just hunting meat that can talk.  Care and manipulation, killing then eating…isnt that where chicken comes from?  See…. I’m turning heel.  Total, help me sang.

I also listened to Bryson Tiller’s debut album. (Yes I’m using Adele and Bryson Tiller in the same breath, just rock with me for a second) When I was able to move past the fact “Trap Soul” is just an meaty oaker made genre for artists who don’t got enough bars to rap and don’t have the range for traditional R&B and gave the album a fair spin, I liked… the first 6 songs.  I’ll take the mediocre (yes I just used mediocre again in case someone didn’t get the joke and thought I was an imbecile) singing over those tired yell raps.  What I did come away with is… This is what the other side sounds like;   A man who gets jealous when she tries to move on, tries to win back her heart even though he has no intentions on doing something with it.  A man who would take that offer for “one night only” even though he knows damn well she isn’t really bout that life.   A man who doesn’t get his ego stroked by his conquests but rather how sprung he can get her.  Shit… Am I that guy? 

Yes. Of course not.  Depends who you ask.  Look she grown she should know better. God ain’t thru with me yet.  The correct answer is that I was.  Without googling I can say Bryson Tiller has to be under 25, because that’s how an under 25 year old would do things.  (When you get over 30 then you can just say it’s sex addiction,  shoutout Eric Benet.)  I’m closer to Adele’s age than Bryson’s, closer to the antagonist in Adele’s songs than the protagonist in his.  I would’ve said Adele is doing it to herself,  but now I can say… You know what, I get it.  Growth and shit. 

As with most double standards, the same way no one wants to heat white people’s hurt feelings over the #inward, the one on the other end of the love song is the villain.  No matter how good you think you’ve elucidated or how logical your argument… If you’re the one breaking the heart it’s your fault.   I bet  Adele’s ex is somewhere like, yo but SHE ASKED to come over and SHE made the first move….. Been there bruh, been there. 


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Today’s Word is… CREATIVE


So I blog, I draw, I podcast, I’ve written articles, short stories, plays and songs, I cook, I’ve dabbled in graphic design, I’ve “acted”, I’ve owned a web store, I’ve owned an actual art gallery, I’ve built shit from Ikea, I’ve built shit from scratch, I can’t sing or dance because God had to keep me humble.  So all that to say I’m dope a creative person.  I have a busy mind.  The drive to turn some of these talents into business… Well… That’s another story.  I’m more of a hobbyist, as well as my harshest critic, I don’t want #meatyocrity out there with my name on it.  No shade by any means, but I kinda admire people who are able to put themselves out there no matter what….we all have that friend who raps, or the cousin with an Instagram boutique, and personally I can’t not seem to meet a woman who doesn’t write or do hair and makeup (is that just the female equivalent of the aspiring rapper these days?)

I do admire other creatives; as peculiar as they may be. For instance Dessi is an amazing artist and Special was a singer, (there was a dancer in there as well I don’t remember if she got a nickname) .  Creation is an easy icebreaker; I like creatives for their passion, their quirkiness, their drive.  I don’t know if I have the same connection with my own work.  I’m nonchalant; modest.  If a woman didn’t see it for my blog (most don’t) or my art I don’t think I’d get in my feelings about it. Maybe a little, but we’ll get to that later.  Anyway, for others creatives their craft is an extension of them you can’t love one without the other.   And with that we begin our tale of deceit and struggle…

I met a girl yada yada yada, she tells me she writes poetry.  She’s fine so I cast aside my abhorrence for spoken word and go to see her perform at an open mic.  It was dreadful.  Like, it was something about being locked up and licking the steel bars and tasting tears.  Then I had to stay for a couple more of her fake deep friends to perform.   Not the way I envision a perfect evening.  So, of course she asks how was she… She was nervous, but she felt really good and who am I to strike this dream down.  So of course, I lie and she lights up.  I won’t tell you how many more open mics I ended up going to, she would read poems over the phone, wrote a few about me…I was stuck.  I tried to ride it out maybe as I liked her more, I would love her struggle stanzas but can you really build a foundation on a lie? No.

Aint say I didn’t try tho.   We were a few months in, she would send me stuff to read I would pretend to like it. What’s a little white lie if they take it as support; why you think Jhene Aiko out here thinking she the next Sade, some dude couldn’t tell her the truth…. I feel you bruh, I feel you. So, remember how I said I wouldn’t get in my feelings if someone didn’t like something EYE did. Well that was a lie.  So one day I send Sigh,Ugh Angelou a drawing I was working on and she… wasn’t a fan.  She gave a critique and so since we were letting each other in on our true feelings, I may or may not have implied that more work was spent on my drawing than her fake deep poems thay sound like every other chick with Microsoft Word that thinks they’re deep.  It escalated quickly and we stopped speaking.  Who knows what Phyllis Weakley is up to these days.  Maybe she got her bars up.  Shrug life. 

Creatives are an odd bunch.   The passion that makes them great can make them just as insufferable. (West, Kanye).   Creatives crave support, especially from the ones they care about.  When their rap video only had 17 views it mattered that you was probably 11 of them, perhaps they aren’t ready to share their gifts with the world but they share with you and that’s good enough for them.   When a creative has someone who truly appreciates and values them as well as their art, it’s a beautiful thing.  When that support is really just superficial gassing…. Well, just ask Toni Snoreisson over there. 


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