Monthly Archives: November 2013

Today’s Word is… BLACK

So back in the day, when kids used to still play with toys and didn’t ask for expensive electronic devices,

(I mean seriously my nephew just got a tablet for his 6th birthday, I’ll probably buy myself one for my 26th, I’ll be 26 next year…I’m old.) 

Anyway, around this time many moons ago we would tell our parents and Santa what we wanted for Christmas

(Another sidenote, how do kids still believe in Santa when they are getting iPads and PlayStations for Christmas, are elves Japanese now? Is that racist to say, Idk maybe I’ll get an email)

My older sister and brother usually asked for whatever new tech was out, pagers, CD players, I got whatever toy was advertised during Saturday morning cartoons, my other sister would ask for whatever new Barbie contraption was out to slay on deez heauxs.  My sister had a serious Barbie phase, but my mother always made it a note to buy black dolls, because sistas could have all pink everything dream houses and convertibles too.  She never could find a black Ken doll and every year Barbie got her house, car, summer home, career  but no man (there’s a stereotype here but I won’t go there).  Eventually my father finally found a black Ken (how much easier it would’ve been with the internet) and finally Barbie got chose.  My mother wanted my sister to have some semblance of black love, even with something as simple as Barbie and Ken. You could point out the double standard that if white parents returned a barbie because it was black, black people would probably have something to say about it, and by something to say I mean make fun of them for a few hours on Twitter.

I thought about this when I was talking to a friend and she asked, “why is there still so much emphasis on ‘black love’?” Fair question, in this day and age when interracial relationships are becoming more commonplace, shouldn’t THAT be considered progress? My short answer was that it was because it just isn’t portrayed as much as it should be. As I thought more about it, I’m still half in half out. As a black man, I like to see black love depicted in my entertainment. However, if I were to marry a white woman, would our love be looked at with the same adulation? I think back to even recently after “The Best Man Holiday” was released, the sequel to a romantic comedy featuring a predominantly black cast, the first thing that came out was that out of the four male stars (Taye Diggs, Terrence Howard, Harold Perrineau, Morris Chestnut), only Chestnut is married in real life to a black woman. The trolling went so far that a bogus quote from Diggs circulated that “black women are less submissive and harder to deal with” and “No offense, but the only black woman I ever loved is my mama”. Of course none of this was ever credited or proven but it was accepted as true not just because people on the internet aren’t always too bright but that’s the mantra attached to black men who do date/marry white women.


I’ve spoken on that before and that other time, so I won’t repeat myself on that subject but again it brings me back to the original point, why is black love still important to people, because for one, there’s so many others trying to tear it down. Namely, people who do date outside their race and look at it as some sort of blanket statement. Black women don’t do this, black men don’t do that, yada yada yada. You found someone who loves and respects you, goodie goodie now please be seated and spare us your failed sociology thesis.

Another reason is because it’s simply fading as a whole. 50 years ago, the percentage of black people married were about 60%, it’s closer to 30% now. Blame shacking up, co-parenting, all that jazz. To admire black couples like Jay-Z and Beyonce or our President and the Flotus Flower Bomb, it’s by no means to offend IR couples it’s just so damn rare to see now. I appreciate love in all forms whether it’s The Best Man Holiday or a Nicholas Sparks movie (okay I’m lying I hate them all), but as a black man I can’t help but feel a little extra happier for the couple who looks more like me. I can’t help that other black people might smile a little wider if my wife happens to look a little more like me because it’s a feat, one that shouldn’t exist in the first place but a feat nonetheless. That’s why black love still matters, at least to me.




Filed under Dating, Love, Simply Stan

Today’s Word is… MEH

So it was a few months back when I heard about Lorde, the 16 year old New Zealand singer, whose EPs were giving life to bougie black America.  I kept making a note to listen to her but always got sidetracked, it happens.  So I’m with a friend when “Royals” comes on the radio she quickly turns it up, “Oh my God, I LOVE LORDE”, as she fixes her scarf, because bougie black women love scarves as well.  I kept hearing of this song but it was the first time I heard THE song…my reaction, meh.  She was not here for it and like most people do, she proceeded to explain the song because apparently to not like something means you simply don’t understand it.  I just thought the minimalist production didn’t work nor did her vocals.  Another friend recommended I listen to the Mayer Hawthorne cover of the song, I liked his rendition as I’m a fan of his in general but then another realization set in that the lyrics are really weak.  Now the song is soaring up the charts and I’m still like…meh.  Now some of you might remember last year when I did a list of the most overrated things, most of which still very much overrated, this go round I’m doing simply the things that simply aren’t as great as people think they are, or things that I used to like but these days…meh.

It’s the remix baby…speaking of Lil Wayne should top this list but he’s fallen so out of favor I won’t even bother to discuss him any further than the completion of this sentence. There.

Instagram-Instagram was all the craze last summer, then the reality set in: People’s lives really aren’t that interesting to post about daily. While Twitter avoided this harsh truth by becoming more of a public forum than simply people tweeting what they are doing, Instagram users really don’t have sh t to post, thus the plethora of #MCM, #WCW and quotes featuring celebrities, because they burned through all their outfits of the day and baby pictures. My posts are few and far between now, if anything it’s my artwork or if I just so happen to be feeling myself that particular day

“Album Drake”– I’ve always been iffy on Drake, he’s obviously talented but usually hit or miss with me. I’ve finally concluded that I can tolerate him on features, where he does a witty 16 and hook and gets the hell out the way, but a whole album complaining about how fame sucks but don’t mock him for it because he’s famous and has more money than you, keep that.

Yoga– Yoga mats are the new stripper pole, but it’s not objectifying because it’s fitness. Now the #creeplife side of me is here for it, go head on and do ya handsprings in a dress and heels because that’s completely practical. But overall, most people aren’t taking it that seriously, namaste deez.

Beards– Men like women. Women like beards. Men grow beards for women they like. Personally, I don’t like how I look with a beard, so beyond a little stubble between haircuts that’s all you’re getting out of me, I’m fly anyway.

3D Movies-3D is visually amazing when done properly. Avatar was a cheesy take on every Cowboy/Native American tale ever written but my God was it stunning to look at. However, most movies aren’t Avatar, they’re regular movies with 1 3D scene so they can charge an extra 6 dollars.

Bacon-I love bacon, I get it on my veggie burger because this is America. As a cult phenomenon it’s completely overdone, bacon t-shirt, bacon wrapped bacon, bacon colognes, it’s like a really long running joke that people don’t realize is over

Scandal and beard…InMEHtion

Scandal- It’s not because the protagonist is the side chick, or is with a white man, or has power, or she can’t deliver 3 lines without lip quivering like she’s been finger blasted. I just don’t like it Sam I Am.

Bitstrips-Someone a year from now will stumble upon this blog and say wtf is a bitstrip. That’s all that needs to be said

“Turn Up”-Can white people start saying this so it can die already. It’s become a birthday wish, a clever euphemism for “I’m drunk” or Kevin Hart’s go to phrase when he’s clearly bombing at a live event…speaking of

Kevin Hart– He woefully needs a new act. Comedians tend to blow up and go stale (Hi Katt Williams) when they are overexposed and unable to work in new material, “Let Me Explain” was fuggin terrible and even the biggest Kevin Hart stans need to admit that

Beats By Dre– Dr Dre convinced the world they needed studio quality headphones for their smartphones, can’t knock the hustle

Honorable Mentions: Lady Gaga, Cable TV, Clubs, online dating, Network dramas having 22 episode seasons, #blacktwitter, iPhones, Marshall Mathers LP 2, Family Guy

Agree/disagree, love/hate….lemme hear it



Filed under Randomness, Simply Stan

Today’s Word is… WRONG

Been a long time….y’all know the rest.


Of most of the women I dated, I typically got along with the family members I met. I’m sweet, I’m articulate, I’m awesome all that good stuff. The lone exception was “She” who I just didn’t get along with her sisters at all, and I had my reasons for feeling that way. She would always forgive them, as she should’ve, that’s family. I didn’t have to, they were immature, lazy, manipulative people. Regardless, I loved her, she loved me, and I took care of business. If they couldn’t respect that their whole perspective was wack. Their perspective was wack. Anyway, when the relationship ended, there was probably some validation on their part. Not that anything they thought about me was actually, true, but you know misery loves company. I felt bad about it, she had chose me over them, moved out, and now she was returning home with tail between her legs (although she was 23 and had nothing to be ashamed of, they were 30+ sleeping on twin beds but that ties into the whole manipulation aspect) anyway, as far as appearances went, she was dead wrong about me.

Fast forward to now, in somewhat of an ironic twist. My little sister has all but distanced herself from her family…for her boyfriend. Now tale of the tape, I was at least a college student, working 2 jobs with my own apartment, this dude is just a bum. Won’t delve too much into family business, but the point is she can do much better and no one is really shy about telling her that. Given my recent history, I’ve stayed neutral because pushing her away would only push her closer to him. She’s adopted a “us against the world” mentality which again, would be acceptable if perhaps my sisters were miserable and lonely, didn’t have much going for them and then I can see where the lack of credibility would factor. In this case, my sister just can’t bring herself to admit that maybe she whiffed on this one, that she’s going to eventually stomach the humble pie that comes from another failed relationship, that even with her best efforts, she was simply wrong.


As I’ve said before, you’re born into your family, your friends sprout from your environment, who you choose to love…that’s on you. Breakups will humble your ass whether you’re the dumper or dumpee. We enter relationships hoping it’s the last one and with each ex, another failure. I have quite a few of them then you count boos, dates, women I just fell for…..I really, really suck at this. There’s women I held on to too long for that reason, I couldn’t be wrong again, challenge the play, recount, appeal. I can assume the same could be said about me. Relationships are the penultimate investment of time, energy, emotions…official or not, you’re giving investing in this person and waiting for a pay out. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes you just give up and walk away and hope that you didn’t give up too much. It’s still prolonging the inevitable, I know couples who went through ups and downs and came out closer, I know men and women still broken from picking the wrong one.

Taking it back to my sister, Hurricane Fuckboy has severed her relationships with 2 sisters, a handful of friends, cpst a job, 2 places to stay, a cousin, probably thousands of dollars and just sucking every bit of respect from anyone close to her. She’s invested so much in this man, she can walk away and try to repair the damage or just keep going all in and hope that this is really the man God picked for her. (Spoiler alert: he isn’t.) She looks at him as the only constant in her life when in reality he’s the variable in everything that has gone wrong. With “She”, we cost ourselves time and had to suffer the embarrassment that comes with every failed relationship. We got up, brushed ourselves off and kept looking, and I don’t know about her but I’m struggling like Ciara doing Mariah covers. I can only hope my sister eventually sees the light and when she does it’s not when even bridge has been burned or he really shows his colors. but I’m pretty sure that’s when I’d really have to step in and deliver fade But in the meantime, it’s them against the world…or something.


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Filed under Dating, La Familia, Love, Relationships

Today’s Word is… PREFERENCE


“Yo I’m about to invite the interns to our table”

So my boy leaves and walks back with these two girls.  One was brown skinned, short, slender, she had pretty eyes but I’m not sure if they’re real or contacts.  The other fiery red hair, piercing green eyes, also small but a little thicker.  It was two of them and two of us, did he just set me up to set him up?  He introduces me to them, and we start talking, clearly he’s flirting with the white girl and presumably I’m supposed to entertain the sista. Now because, 1. I’m not interested in coworkers, 2. The white girl was easily more attractive, I found myself more drawn to her.  Anyway, lunch ends we all go back to work.  I run into the intern again as we’re leaving, we continue our conversation, she throws a few lobs out there about how she exclusively dates black guys, her affinity for Drake, and I was secretly bracing myself for a Trayvon question.  We go our separate ways. 


Few days later, me and my boy talking, he asks me about the intern, I tell him nothing is going down, he tells me he hears she’s into brothers (did she release a PSA?).  “Yeah, she one of those”.  Now, I knew what he was getting at but I wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting at.  “A white girl who only dates black guys” he follows up “Why is it always so finite though, even black women I date usually ONLY dates white guys” A fair point, just about every white woman I’ve dated only dated black guys, but to be fair, honestly I would be reluctant to just approach a white woman cold.  I usually would let them approach me or wait for lobs like the intern threw.  That’s for no reason other than my usual obliviousness, I need some kind of hint from women of any race. 

My boy brought up a good point, preferences always have an origin story.  I prefer to date women over 24, younger women simply aren’t mature enough to handle the caliber of relationship I expect.  I prefer not to date mothers, I like flexibility and I’ve had bad experiences.  To say I prefer only white women, there’s no rationale to ONLY like that race, I came from a black woman, I will have black kids, to say I’m simply unattracted to black women would be ridiculous, any other reason would be rooted in some sort of unproven stereotype.  I’ve been out with my boy and had sistas dismiss me for him because they think he’s safer, more responsible, when we have the same job, he lives at home and has a child, I do not.  Stereotypes still say don’t bet on black #doe.  He’s been rejected by black women because they assume he’s lame, not “down”, or not checking for them.  They don’t know better. 


Now, fast forward a few days I’m talking to the black intern.  Ironically efugginuff (yes that’s a word) she was put off by our first meeting and assumed “i was one of those”.  Now I knew what she was getting at but I wanted to see if she knew what she was getting at.  “You was all over ______, thought you just didn’t like other black people”(talking to two white people and not her, issue with blacks #thereach). I quickly clarified and also made a note, white or black I don’t talk to coworkers or interns. (She’s 21 which would be another strike).   We resolved whatever issue she had (I was getting some of the fakest good mornings ever) and for now all is well in the workplace.  As for why white women who date black guys ONLY date black guys? Simple, once you go black, I think you know the rest.  Kidding. Mostly.



Filed under Dating, Simply Stan

Today’s Word is… REPRESENT


Once upon a time not long ago, really it was like beginning of the year.  I was at the gym doing my thing, this girl walks by, petite but thick, sun kissed caramel skin, luxurious curly fro she had tied back into a ponytail, even though we’re in a gym she looks like she smells like almonds.  She was dope.  I smile, she smiles back, I go about my workout, maybe went a little harder than I usually do (I really had it together then…sigh, but thats another post, maybe the next one).  Later that week, I’m at the grocery store I see this girl again, casually dressed with the right mix of mmph, once again catch glances we smile we go about our business.  A week after that, I’m at my favorite froyo shop in she walks…okay, now I got to talk to her.  So I introduce myself like “I’m Shyne and you, you’s my destiny” I forget where I was actually headed but we sat down with our yogurts and talked for a bit, she had just moved around here she was shocked to see another black face #noHalloween.   She had other plans so we decided we should run into each other on purpose, we exchange numbers.  Froyo guy was impressed. 

We go out on a few dates we text each other, everything is going lovely…..except, despite being finer than the tip of a fountain pen, she’s not….that….smart. I mean I’m not exactly Einstein but let’s say she didn’t share the same passion for knowledge as I. (Nice save) She said things that literally stopped you in your tracks, like all emotions leave your face, if there was a camera rolling you would look dead at it.  At first, I thought she was being silly, I would laugh some of these sillier comments off, others I really just reevaluated my decision making, like when she said she wanted to go to Miami for Memorial Day and asked did she need a passport. 


There were plenty of gems of that nature, some I won’t even play myself and say.  Fast forward a bit, we’re not a couple but we’re pretty cool so much she’s starting to meet friends and family.  Suddenly, I start to see her under that blacklight, is THIS what I’m ready to ride with? 

Full disclousre, I aint shit.  I don’t have some brand to protect or much of a reputation period, but who you choose to align yourself with matters.  Family you’re born into, friends you make in your surroundings (school, neighborhood, work), who you choose to commit to is completely on you. She’s becoming familiar with people closest to me, she now represents me.  Now I find myself cringing on the inside when she’s talking to other people hoping she doesn’t embarrass me or shaking my head at her refusal to use there, their and they’re properly in an online status.  Yes, common sense says we’re two different people but like an employee to a company, we’re linked.  She is who she is, I wouldn’t try to change her nor could I.  What I could change, is how she represents me. 

Different roles, different standards.  Her as a friend, it’s whatever, her as a girlfriend there’s qualifiers like “#shefinetho”.  It works vice versa, me as a friend I can look like whatever, me the boyfriend that’s when the “nice” and “sweet” qualifiers come in, or maybe I’m too shy, nerdy or who knows why someone wouldn’t approve of me, I’m quite awesome. Of course, we could date eachother anyway and just go the Xscape route (see what I did there), but there’s no romantic chemistry and why start a book when you know how it ends.Alas, we’re just friends. And she thought a sink ran on electricity. She’s a sweetheart tho.  Where am I going with this….oh yeah, representatives.  We like to pretend nothing anyone says matters, big up imaginary haters, but appearances matter.   We like to downplay our pasts but there’s always some stock in who you choose to represent you and your relationship. 


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Today’s Word is… CRAZY

[Editor’s Note: Last Year, I did a 30 in 30 challenge for National Blog Posting Month, 30 posts in 30 days, this year I’m…….not doing that shit.  Writers block is a bitch, with no titties]


So a new reader reached out, said she loved the blog and the stories of my “crazy” exes.  I respectfully disagreed.  I don’t think I would call any of my exes crazy….okay maybe one and I never actually spoke on her before.  Actually, let me give a quick rundown…

So this girl who went to school with my right hand (who I hold fully responsible to this day) randomly asked him, who was that darkskinned dude he was always with?  He told me I should step to her, I did….sorta, I just found her on Myspace and talked to her there. We hit it off, I guess I go off to college, we instant message every now and again, no biggity, no doubt.  I come home for the summer, we start dating for real for real.  She started to get really clingy so I fell back a bit, she would call the house my sister would tell her I just left for work (she would have to say this or she would legit call every few hours), I get to work, She. Beat. Me. There. I was only working at Target so not like she couldnt just show up.  When she wasn’t stalking me at work, my boy would tell me how she just wandered around my neighborhood, she changed her status on facebook to married WITH the actual name change, harassed girls on my page, threatened to hurt herself if I left, applied to my school (didn’t get in #fistpump) I never was so hyped for summer to end in my life.   

Okay, maybe not so quick.  Point is, her ass was crazy.  Unexplainably crazy.  Like breakup in a public place crazy.  ID channel show crazy.  Actually, I think I ran into her recently, and by ran in I mean saw her and crossed the street like white people do when they see a group of black teens approaching.  Anyway, as for my other exes, I can’t call them crazy because being honest I was kind of an asshole. Brushing everyone off as they just crazy or immature just shows a lack of accountability.  Which is why, I’M always cautious of someone who always calling someone else crazy.  Sometimes “crazy” has a point.

You’re getting to know someone, she talks about how some guy was always in his feelings, then she’s the same way with you and you find yourself all the way in your feelings.   You wondering why his ex keep taking shots online, come to find out he’s still smashing telling her, you mean nothing.  There’s 2 sides to every story.  I’ve had exes just show up at my doorstep, sometimes at awkward times but still, I can kinda see why they did.  Don’t try to get the last word and ignore me, I will blow your phone up, show up at your house, send a letter, send flowers and cuss you out in the card (one of those things are false, not the one you think).  So yes, I get love driving you to “unconventional” thought processes.  I’m sane (i think), and sometimes I look back at things I did “cause…love” and can only smh now but then, then you couldn’t tell me a damn thing. 

I wouldn’t describe most of my exes as “crazy”, they’re more pissed off and passionate, pissionate. Okay, that sounds like R Kelly’s cologne. Gross.  Maybe for lack of a better made up word, they asses are crazy.  Crazy in love, works for Bey.




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