Subtraction By Subtraction.

It’s not hard to have sex. But know yourself before you indulge in it.

After my TRASH 2015 that included two rather bad splits and other low moments, I had to look in the mirror. What is it that I’m doing that gets me into these situations where I get tied up with a girl I like, then things just go sour?

My solution was not letting myself get so emotionally wrapped up in dating, to just chill, to just “have fun.” I’ve done this before; everything worked out, for the most part. This second go-round was disastrous, not in results or quality of sex, but in the long-term effect on my mindset.

It wasn’t that my approach changed, I was a little more subtle. I’m not really sleeping over, I’m not cuddling overly long, because I don’t want you to feel as if I’m trying to nudge you into a relationship. I’m not exactly a hopeless romantic (this is a lie), but I couldn’t really operate like this. I tried, I really did…but it was not me. I was having sex and holding back my emotions because I was tired of situations falling apart.

My newfound “strategy” definitely had some rough spots. Do you know how weird it is to have good sex but also think “wow I really enjoyed just laying there and talking to you after?” My life was lacking affection (and still is), and I couldn’t say how I felt out of fear of misconstruing things. I’m Steve Urkel masquerading as Stefan Urquelle, but I’m ACTUALLY both guys. My issue is I repressed the more emotional aspects of myself because I was tired of getting stuck in doomed pseudo-situationships. My actions must match my words, and in my head that came down to cutting out cuddling and other #smooth romantic shit that I really wanted to do. Maybe I was wrong.

When you taper down your emotions, you start to attract and pursue women who are on the same page. The problem there is, some of those girls don’t give a shit about you. They might enjoy having sex with you, MAYBE even like eating chicken with you beforehand, but you are of no importance besides your filth and ability to be on time. For some guys, this is a dream situation. I was one of those guys for a couple of months; then, it was trash. Making things worse, I have a bad habit of making situations better in my mind than what they actually are, which leads to disappointment.

Things had gotten so filthy that I said to myself “I wish I could go on a wholesome date.” All I was doing was working, going to the gym, getting drunk, and having mostly-emotionless sex. That is a very jarring change from my early 20s, when I was just hoping and wishing to get my wee-wee dampened.

In the midst of all the struggling, this is what I wanted. This is what I ALWAYS wanted. Even as a child, before I knew what sex or kissing or anything really was, I vividly remember telling my dad I wanted women to really like me. He told me it would happen, just do my damn homework. That was sound advice! But I eventually got there, and it forces you to look at yourself in ways you may not want to.

If multiple women are interested in you, thats great. But the reality is unless one particularly moves you, everyone else has an expiration date. The very poor handling of the pain of my past loves has kind of ruined my view; I couldn’t just relax and “live.” This has bled into a lot of other aspects of my life. If things are going well, I can already see when it’ll going start going poorly, and I tend to fixate on it.

I knew things needed to change this year, when I started to think “I am attracted to this girl and it’s not a sexually based thing.” We’ve done nothing. Not one date, no drunken kiss, NOTHIN. It was her personality, her earnest curiosity about me, and doing just enough to show interest but never making me feel like she’s swarming me. That’s slightly out of the ordinary for me nowadays; at some point in my life, women started doing too much as it came to me, and it bothered me.

Things went wrong somewhere, and I really think it started when I started to safeguard my emotions, for fear of misleading, because I didn’t want to get myself into something I didn’t want. And now, I’m deciding to be more like myself, and deal with things as they come.

 

Advertisements

So, I got curved this one time, right…..

I’ve taken a few L’s with #da ladies, in my life.

It happens.

I am now one with the Sauce, so these were just stumbling blocks along the way.

ALONG THE WAY TO GREATNESS.

Walk with me.

My Very First Curve.

Her name was Courtney.

I was in 3rd grade.

It was Valentine’s Day. My birthday. Me and Courtney had afterschool together, so we were upstairs in a classroom, gluing shit together with the other kids. I had the huuuuugest crush on lil Court (or NeeNee). Light skin (THIS IS WHEN I WAS STILL A COLOR STRUCK YOUNG BROTHER….EVERYTHANG YELLA.), big brown eyes, two thick braids wrapped around the back of her head….she was THE ONE. My little 3rd grade heart swore she was gonna be my boo one day. I dont even know what that woulda entailed…holding hands??? Whatever.

Anyway, I made my corn-muffin complected QUEEN a Valentine’s Day card. Glitter, Hearts, The works. I was nervous as shit making it and put all of my effort into this more than likely trash card. She somehow comes up to me and asks me what am I holding. Fear wraps me like my small ass private school cardigan. I try to hide it and turn away…she reaches for it, I get away…she gets a hand on it and….

She reads it.

No emotion on her angelic little face. She basically tells me “its not like that!” then………SHE THROWS THE CARD IN THE GARBAGE.

SPIKED MY SHIT IN THE TRASH! I can still see the card in the trash like it happened yesterday. I think one of the teachers even saw the card and asked her about it. That day is when I learned…Earth is a cold, cold place.

The Two Piece Curve

I had a crush on this girl I went to school with in HS. She was Guyanese. This is relevant.

Guyanese families don’t play that shit, for the most part. You can’t bring Jamal in ya house for dinner. Grandma is not going to feel you on that one.

Nonetheless, I was head over heels for her and she actually liked my funny looking ass too. We spent a lot of time together at lunch, at breakfast, around school. Just all of that cutesy stuff. I was still afraid the cheeks at this point, so I wasn’t gonna escalate it to the #SmashLands. All good.

One day on a school trip, I’m sitting next to her on the bus. My soft ass teen heart was fluttering. We’re talking and she just stops me out of nowhere.

“I can’t bring you home with me.”

It’s because I’m black, as she later explains. Her family just wasn’t partial to an American black kid like myself, or kids of my “ilk”. My mom is Trini/St. Vincentian, but I don’t particularly look it (only to girls who are lying to me and trying to flirt), and I was raised pretty American, outside of my visits to Grandma Lorna’s and Papa’s (my grandfather) house. I was sorta crushed, but I got over it. I let it go. We remained cool. I still liked her. It was what it was.

FAST FORWARD!!! I’m like…22? I get the bright idea to ask her to go to Outback (I secretly have a Kookaburra Wings obsession). She said she would be down. I took my ass out there……..never showed up. Stopped answering her phone and all that. VOICEMAIL AND EVERYTHANG. Bruh.

She just didn’t like my black ass.

The College Party Curve (Pajama Jammy Jam)

I was like…19-20. At my school, the Pajama Jam was THE event. You HAD to be there, no matter how lame you were.

Enter scrawny, young Robby. I put an outlandish amount of thought into my pajama pants-based outfit. I had to be #flee. I had to. I HAD TO KILL THEM.

I hit the party with my roommates, we split up like the savages we were. Lots of girls. A lot of foolishness. A lot of fine black girls grinding on my virginal loins.

But there was ONE….ONE….that I decided I wanted really bad. I don’t even remember why. It was some animal attraction shit. Or I was just a horny sophomore.

I pulled up on her, slid up behind her….she turned around….and time froze.

She looked me in the eyes and let off the most GUTTURAL laugh I have EVER heard.

Right in my silly ass face. Laughed like she saw Rick James grind his feet into that couch for the FIRST TIME.

I just walked away. Defeated. I’m pretty sure I heard that laugh in my nightmares.

The “You Were Almost A Legend” Curve

In high school, one of my homegirls was a lesbian. She was humping the whole school. Things were #lit. Anyway, she had a girl she was messing with, on and off.

This girl evidently saw my pictures on Sconex (basically Facebook for high schoolers who were trying to hump each other) and starts telling my home girl that she….wants me? That I’m handsome? That she’s gay but she’d go straight for me???

THE HELL?

She hits me up personally and expresses this same sentiment directly to me, and I’m pretty flattered. We talk for a long while, I accidentally see her butt in my phone, YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES.

We keep talking over time and she finds out I’m a virgin. She slides it out there that “you could practice on me, if you want”.

SHE WANTED ME TO PRACTICE ON HER “NEVER HAD HETERO SEX” LOVE BOX. PRACTICE. WE TALKING ABOUT……PRACTICE.

Being the young filthball I was, I agreed. She wanted to meet up first, and we set a date. We had never met up to this point but we clearly shared pics. She was an attractive girl.

Pizza date. I was hype. Put on my little ‘fit, threw on my Nike winter jacket, I WAS KILLING THEM, FO’ SHO’.

I get to the spot and she told me she was gonna be a little late. Cool.

Half hour passes. She’s not picking up. Then she’s sending my calls to VM. Hour passes.

She’s not coming, dog. I ate my pepperoni pizza slice, and went outside…AND GOT SOAKED.

I came home and tried to tweet her…SHE BLOCKED ME.

She was not about what was she was talking about, and powerfully curved me and disappeared.

She’s kinda huge in NYC on Twitter now and still has me blocked.

STILL.

STILLLLLLLLLL.

I would have been famous like MJ amongst my friends for that sex that I never got. And I wanted it. BUT ALAS….it was not in the cards.

I tell you that, to say this………..keep on trucking. Rejection is no big deal, success is on the way.

Condoms are USELESS.

But what if my boy Mooj is wrong??

What if “it” really is all about COCK and TITS and ASS and BUTTHOLE PLEASURES and JAGGED HEAD DILDOS????

Here’s something you don’t know about me: most of my life, I was the 40 Year Old Virgin.

Let’s set the scene: picture a lanky, frail, 18 year old black kid. He’s in Walmart with his dad, furnishing his freshman dorm. EXCITE! Now let’s continue. Right before my family left, he gives me a HUGE ASS box of condoms and tells me “take this”. His eyes are beaming with pride. His young, promising son is going to lay his meat down all over Virginia and terrorize his city. He also told me “You have potential, these girls might try to trap you!”. I take his knowledge (and all these damn rubbers) and start the college experience.

 

NO.

 

I was a fucking DWEEB. I wasn’t getting ANY ASS but my pops definitely thought I was a teenage Bill Bellamy. I was an ultra-virgin because I looked funny until I was about 16.5. I got my first kiss somewhere around there; we clicked teeth because I was a DEPLORABLE kisser. In that lil space between then and graduating high school, I was attracting girls I didn’t really like. If a girl I DID like noticed me, I turned it over in the red zone when I coulda just….*raises eyebrows* ran it in there. So I was TOTALLY in over my head.

I had a  freshman year(college) bae early, but I botched that because I was so, so insecure. I let some other girls convince me she was getting PLOWED by dudes from a  nearby school….and I got cold feet. She was fine too…SO YEAH! I’m a moron. I also tore that girl’s bra tryna unleash her chest; I can still hear the cup separating from the fabric in my nightmares. Even worse, the rumors were false.

I always thought that sex should be special. Even as a kid. My parents explained sex to me early, they gave me a book about it; I understood it. I wanted the first time I had sex to be special, with a girl I really liked. I wanted to see stars and constellations whilst inside that thang. So I held out for “The One”. There were girls who liked me but I was so overwhelmed by the idea of sex, I couldn’t even make a play for them. Or I would boss up and get at them, but I couldn’t keep them interested. I didn’t know anything about consistency, or what women seek, or even when they liked me (I still kinda don’t but I am MUCH better).

So I wanted something special, but I was also scared and overthinking things.

I have a CRAZY fear of STD’s. A day or so after one of my early makeout sessions, I had a pimple on my lip. I SWORE I HAD HERPES. AM I GONNA RIDE THE VALTREX HORSE??? IS IT GONNA COVER MY FACE?? IS IT GONNA GO TO MY WEE WEE?

No. It didn’t. It was regular ass acne because my skin is greasier than the bottom of a Five Guys’ bag. Still, I was nervous. In addition to STD’s, I was afraid of accidental pregnancy, sores, my dick falling off the next morning…you know, RATIONAL shit.

To make things even MORE interesting, about halfway through my college career, my dad became a Born Again Christian. His parents were always very religious, so I wasn’t surprised. The thing about this is…it changed his views on pre-marital sex. I’m 21 at this point. I’ve engaged in FILTH but I haven’t actually had SEX. INTERCOURSE . THE OL’ IN OUT IN OUT. He’s telling me I shouldn’t have sex before I’m married. The same guy who gave me enough rubbers that I could put 6 on my meat, the rest on my fingers, and still have enough for next semester. I looked at him like he was absolutely crazy.

I turn 22. I go through a bad breakup. AFTER that, I finally have sex with the ensuing rebound. I was TRASH. She still gassed me and positively subtweeted that “Madden on Rookie” stroke I was doling out. I ALMOST hated her because she was annoying as hell and NEVER stopped talking ….but she was cute. I kinda fell in it by accident. She had her eye on me and called me one day. She said “I had a dream we were having sex, but I don’t know what to do, since I’m celibate”(what a weak ass opening move). I responded, cool as a fan: “Call me back when you actually wanna make that a reality”. She hit my phone in less than a week and…YEP…ROBBY HAD SEX.

I remember thinking….”That’s it??? I was stressed out over THIS???”. I simply didn’t wanna wait anymore, I just wanted to have sex. I’m glad I did it but….I quietly wished it was “special”.  Most guys just wanna get in there; I held out until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Before I had sex, I didn’t feel it was central to everything. After I had it….I still felt the same. It’s important, its vital, but I think my semi unique experience with it allowed sex to not steer every fiber of my being. I obviously liked it more going forward. I love sex as much as I hate spoken word aka…A LOT.

In case you were wondering:

(posted in order of pleasure)

1)Jerk Chicken.

2)Experiences In The Love Canal.

3)Grapefruit Juice.

4)Breathing.

 

And my dad only knows I’m having sex off of assumption; never outright told him.

 

Crazy, right?

 

Hitched, Part 2.

****Read this first.*****

    Over time, I started to notice…things. Well, just one thing. Whenever there were other girls around us, she acted “off”. I remember it clearly; when we were walking to go eat on campus, a girl from one of my org’s stopped me. We exchanged small talk, regular chatter. I guess this went on a little longer than she liked: She just walked away and left me. All I got was an “I’ll meet you there”. I wanted to introduce them to each other but she hung back so far when saw her, I couldn’t even tell where she was standing in the crowded student center. To be totally clear, I had a crush on that girl that stopped me at a point. My current situation really dissolved my interest in even going down that road. Maybe she “felt” something. Either way, I started to feel that we might be in trouble.

   My 22nd birthday came up. My 21st birthday was a mess, so I promised myself I would make my next one memorable. Me and my roommates brainstormed and we decided to have a party. We had liquor, I let the people know; no way this would turn out wack. I told “her” about it and she never really sounded too thrilled. I kept bringing it up, hoping she’d see how badly I wanted her to show up. Hours before the party, she said “I’m sure there will be more than enough girls at the party, you don’t need me to come”. I was sick over this. How could someone so important to me see her presence as disposable? She was always uncomfortable with my popularity(ugh, my friends were way more well known) at school , and that comment sent it home.

    The party went down. It was a success. I nearly got into a fight, plenty of girls came and it closed with the cops trying to arrest me (A+!). Seriously, it was a good time. With that said, I had a strange little moment there. My VERY first college boo(“A”) and her best friend (“K”) came. This is no big deal, as we were cool and put the past behind us (lol oh pls). They came through fly as usual, danced, drank, enjoyed. Once A walked away, me and K were talking. She out of nowhere murmurs to me…

“If you and B didn’t date……”

    She looked me in the eye and I knew what she was trying to infer. Ive known her forever. She’s been (and still is) an attractive woman. However, I didn’t hesitate. I defused that immediately and moved on with my night. I was very serious about whatever it was me and “her” had, even when it was on the rocks. My feelings and heart were tied up and I really just wanted to put my energy towards that.

    A few days later, she texts me back again. She tells me she doesn’t wanna come chill, doesn’t want anything to do with me, all that. I’m pretty much being dumped via text, and I don’t even know what I did. I’m not taking it well but my ego prevents me from chasing down the “why” of situations like these. If you want to let me go, cool. I won’t beg you, I won’t play myself. I simply asked her what lead to this and she once again bought up my popularity and how that was too much for her. I responded back calmly, accepting things for what they were. In the ensuing days, she continues to hit me up and make me feel stupid about the whole thing. How I shouldn’t have liked her so much. How I made it all into something it wasn’t, how all of our time didn’t really mean much. It was bizarre, because I wasn’t chasing her after she dumped me. She just kept coming back to me and killing me with the same knife. Me, in my state of need for her, kept responding until I simply was too bothered by all of it.

      I was totally fucked up over this. Non of my friends knew how serious it was for me, or that we even split. My roommate asked me “whatever happened to….” and to this day, I don’t know how I didn’t get out of that conversation without embarrassing myself.  Partner this bad heartbreak with the melancholy feeling of a pending graduation, trying to enjoy myself before it’s all over, and the incredible amount of violence going on at my school (guy got killed and his body was in the street a block away; on a separate incident a kid got stabbed up in the parking lot right outside of my window), I was stressed about everything. I’ve never really admitted this, but I honestly felt like I was going to get killed my senior year. I ended up adopting some beefs because of my loyalty AND a lot of students were ending up in crazy situations with locals after parties.

       I don’t really know how I decided to stop sulking. I do know that I found solace in my coworker’s bed sheets. We worked together on campus and I kinda knew she always liked me. I was sorta on the fence but as we got to know each other I warmed up to the idea a little more. She was cute; dark skin, big smile, infectious laugh. We hung out at the office, we talked on campus, worked on projects together. As fate would have it, she happened to live in my building. I saw her in the hallway while I was washing clothes, so I texted her when I was almost done. I ended up walking into her apartment and next thing you know, our lips meet. We didn’t have sex until maybe a few weeks later. Once we started, we didn’t stop. She was in an ODU office with me, amongst very important people, and no one knew what we did behind closed doors. There was a certain forbidden air to it. This went on until about a week before I graduated, when she disappeared quietly back home to northern Virginia.

     There was also someone else, who is memorable because she was a big “first” for me. She was at my apartment for a kick back. I was doing my homework; I wanted no parts. Me being involved would’ve thrown the ratio off. Nevertheless, I’ve known her for a few years but we’ve just been cool. I noticed that she kept walking by my door and peeking in. She eventually comes in and one of the guys (who I know WELL) pulled her off of me and out of my room. He had a huge (unrequited) crush on her, and I knew this. Never one to lose his cool in this situation, when she came by again, I took her by the hand and walked her into my room. She giggled and walked in curiously.

        I’m just running my fingers over her, admiring her form. She was sort of defined , smooth light skin and had an edge to her voice. She reveals to me “I’ve always liked you and thought you were cute, why didn’t you say anything?” BULLSHIT DETECTOR WEEEE OOO WEEEEE OOOOOOOO. I could’ve just been overcome with modesty, but I still think she was lying. How did I answer? With a lie of my own. “I’ve liked you for a while too!” First and last girl I ever lied to. It was pre-sex bullshit; going through the motions to make each other comfortable with things that aren’t true. I never subscribed to that again. Regardless, she chose to link up after Spring Break (which was next week) instead of doing anything that night.

   Our night came to pass. She came at 6 am, and slid into my building silently. I didn’t sleep, I just stayed up and waited for her. She hands me this, I take ONE swig, she is in my bed. It goes down from there, as Spongebob Squarepants plays far too loudly from my bulky silver TV. The next morning, I kept the lie train going and told her I had study hall. The truth was I didn’t want her in my spot all day. I eventually felt like shit about the pointless lies and vowed to never do it again. I also considered telling dude who pulled her out of the room what happened, because I wanted him to suffer. But I didn’t. So he may be reading this and just found out. If so, yes, her. 🙂 !

    The final part of my story that connects back to Hitch is simple. He approached women and all that they have to offer as “catching up on lost time”.  In reality, he was trying to cover up the pain of finding his girl in the rain with the resident cool guy on campus. She basically left me for her ex, then a FOOTBALL PLAYER. So she hated my popularity, then went to an athlete. Yep. I finally decided to entertain girls who I knew were interested in me, because I was fucked up. I was trying to patch the holes in my boat with lust. It never worked. Those girls didn’t particularly give a shit about me; they just liked what I projected. One of those girls I mentioned actually told me in bed “You were cute on that (ORG REDACTED) poster around campus, I had to have you”. It was never about me, just like it was never about them. I wanted to feel alive, after feeling as if I was literally dead on my feet. Casual sex is fine; just know that it doesn’t heal your pain. The emotional rawness of being discarded by someone who literally illuminates your days to girls who keep your nights shrouded in darkness is a lot for any 22 year old, especially one with a lot on his plate.

  I had to mature. I had to live. I had to understand that just wanting to have sex is fine, and so is wanting to put your all into a woman who’s special to you. Even though my clear blue sky turned gray, I didn’t want to be afraid the next time the sunlight chose me. With knowledge that it all ended so badly, I thank her for it. The highs, the lows, the jagged separation. My experience taught me to value myself and to appreciate the love in every waking day. Even the cold, lonely ones.

Smash REAL Fast.

You know what I never got?

Male cliches about dating and sex. Mainly sex. ‘Cause I’m in my mid 20’s and thats what every discussion turns into. Let us move along.

Sometime last week, a friend dropped the dreaded “She wanted to have sex too quickly” (wtf is too quickly, that’s like saying “Damn, this french toast and bacon with extra syrup has arrived in 3 minutes, I am UPSET”) arose. Now, don’t get me wrong, being a dude and not wanting to have sex immediately isn’t out of the norm. It’s pretty normal actually, I think (I don’t have any friends). But that’s not the issue here.

He DID want to have sex. As has every other dude who has bought this same situation to my attention.The issue here is she has now become a “hoe”, because she wanted to have sex with YOU, as soon as POSSIBLE.

This logic becomes more flawed to me the more it comes up; perhaps it’s time I express my thoughts and feelings.

To put it plainly, you’re probably attracted to her. I don’t know you, but you probably are, random guy. You agree on a date with a woman, you might even want to hit, my man! Let’s not waste time lying! Suppose the stars decide to align in a way that makes her wanna have sex with you “quickly” (what that means depends on who you are). Are you telling me you’re horrified and disgusted by her behavior? It’s cool if you are, but why?

You two want the same thing. If you don’t know what to do here (pls), you can decline. Declining is an option. NO ONE DECLINES HERE, BUT THEY CONSTANTLY CALL HER A HOE AFTER. If this way of operating is so filthy to you, are you not aware that you’re wading in that same muck once you remove your Green Lantern briefs?

Is it impossible that she likes you and is at ease in your presence? Aren’t you a SUPER COOL GUY who gets girls with ease? Shouldn’t sex come to you quickly, like that second drink you hideously overpaid for on vacation? So which is it?

A) You are not the Casanova you pretend to be.

B) Don’t believe a girl would want you sexually ’cause she just digs you like that, it has to be a charity case.

C) You’re just a loser IDK I got nothing.

Which brings me to “SHE DOES THIS WITH EVERYONE!!!!!”. This comes with 0 proof, 84 percent of the time. You really think she’s enamored to the point of sex with every dude she has a dry ass grilled chicken dinner with (with a WEAK ASS mixed drink on the side)? There’s also a bigger problem here….

You probably do this with everyone too (or desire to).

So, this is an interesting time to become the Morality Police.

She may really do it with everyone.

YOU DON’T KNOW. YOU STILL HIT. YOU DON’T ACTUALLY CARE.

The saddest part that gets overlooked is “She does this with EVERYONE!” is your first thought when offered sex. Your self-esteem is shot, and you are totally unaware of this. But no, really, she probably doesn’t do it with everyone. Men tend to horribly overrate sexual promiscuity while indulging in it and trying to say “Its different”. It’s not. You like to have sex? Go have sex. One less person bitching on Twitter about infantile things.

Actually the idea of “what is sexual promiscuity” lies on such a wide range that the term nearly no longer makes sense. Think the term made more sense in less liberated times (I’m not even sure these are “liberated” times, if I may be honest.)

Lastly, while still on the topic, waiting to have sex is not a gold medal of chaste. It just means, you want to wait to have sex. I’d like to think both genders have done it. However, this is more about women. I know for a fact, that dudes still use “She made me wait, she must be trustworthy/a good person/not juggling multiple sexual partners” in their grading system. No.

I tend to believe that most women who overlook your tendency to not brush your hair & wear jean shorts enough to have sex with you, wanted to do it beforehand. Some girls will have sex with you as soon as they decide they wanna do it; some will wait months/years/decades. It is, what it is. In my mind? When they make that choice doesn’t really change my view of their “purity” (Purity. LOL. You break 21, you’ve done some CRINGE-worthy shit, I PROMISE you).

I don’t think “OMG SHE IS HAVING SEX WITH ALL OF NYC THATS WHY SHE OFFERED IT TO ME SO SOON HELP PLS” nor do I think “She’s making me wait until Jay Electronica takes that fucking Ewok robe off and gets back in the studio before she’ll let me smell it! She must be a good girl!”. The urgency with which they have sex has nothing to do with whether they are a piece of shit, or not. JUST TRUST ME. It just means as I said before, that she likes sex. We all like sex. C’mon.

Before I Leave…

 In HS, a close friend of ours was parading around his girl and was bragging to us that she was a virgin. He couldn’t wait to 360 windmill in her paradise of VAGINE.

One problem. She was having sex with someone in our circle. Or better yet, she did it months ago. But she was making Close Friend #1 hang on, and he was excited to cash in soon. This girl he put stock in, and added points to because she was a “virgin”, was really just a liar, who had sex with his associates then struck it from the record. So there’s that.

I also grew up with a girl who was making some dude wait for months to have sex. She is well known in my hometown, for you know……having sex. Getting plowed. Getting excavated by the wee wee hammer. I knew, everyone knew, she was not shy about it.

Anyway, he didn’t know. He stuck around because he thought she was a “good girl” (whatever) and didn’t have a lot of sexual partners, thus making her more desirable in his opinion.

She was holding out so she could recover from Chlamydia.

Y’all have a nice day, though.

6th Street Sights or , what really happened at SXSW.

SXSW was a pretty ….wild experience. A few thoughts and pictures.

Trinidad James is a star (and I was wrong. For once!)

trinidadjpg

(pardon that guys fat ass neck!!!)

Trinidad was one of the biggest names at Fader Fort last Thursday. I also caught Katie Got Bandz, who did a pretty good job. KAAAAATTTTIIEEEEEEE!!!!

So, I admittedly thought of frontin’ on seeing Mr James for the 3rd time in my life. Thanks to the endless urging from multiple sources, I decided to stick around Fader Fort and give it a go.

Blew my mind. I’m no fan of “Don’t Be S.A.F.E.” but I could not deny what he was doing on that stage. He got to “One More Molly” early (IMO his best song) and I stuck along for the ride. Shocked by his skill (!!!!!!) and mastery of the stage. Soon enough, I was turning up with everyone else in that crowd. I was legit singing along with songs of his that I HATE! He has a way of forcing you to like what he’s doing. Another thing that really stuck out about Trinidad is he’s VERY humble and thankful to be in his position. Every time he addressed the crowd, it felt “natural”. He deeply appreciated every soul under that sweaty ass tent in the middle of Austin. Also, shoutout to my dirty ass shoes that I acquired here; I’m probably never going to clean them because I don’t care that much.

Thank you, Trinidad James. Sorry for doubting.

Baauer is NOT overrated.

I was lucky enough to catch Baauer at show put on by Night Supply. The bill was Just Blaze/Baauer/Big Sean but that last guy decided not to show for whatever reason. Since I wanted to continue being drunk and touching butts, my soul burned a little bit. Not to worry…Baauer saves the day. He really went to work in the very dark, yet cavernous venue.

Baauer worked the crowd into a froth and he DIDN’T play Harlem Shake. He has a great ability to read the crowd and is well versed in various types of music, including rap in all of its varieties. If you like music, you would’ve enjoyed Baauer. If you expected it to be a Harlem Shake WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP UNCE UNCE UNCE UNCE LIGHTS FLASHING sorta deal all night, you’d be pleasantly surprised. I was also drunk as shit. Here’s some visual proof of how chopped I was.

help

Shoutout to Kat for sending me the pic AND tying my based headgear  onto my very drunk scalp. No, I don’t know what the hell that lint is in my beard.

Time with your friends from various walks of life is always great.

Time spent with my #NT savages and my friends from back home. Got to introduce them and put those two worlds together for a little while. Far as I’m concerned, it went rather smoothly.

I also bumped into artists who I consider friends that ALSO make music I enjoy.

Noah Caine, The Boy Illinois, Audra The Rapper. All people I’ve known for some time (especially Audra, as we went to school together.) It’s beautiful seeing your friends work towards their dreams and get closer and closer to success so quickly. Situations like these is really what SXSW was built on.

I also stopped Kris Kasanova in the street to express how much I appreciate his music and progress. I don’t know him personally but I met him through a friend. I take time to show love when we cross paths because that’s important. If you’re a fan of someone’s work and get a chance to tell them in real life? Do it. I have 94% of the time. I choked on talking to Kanye but that’s ’cause he was trying to ninja lurk through SoHo.

I told Victor Cruz what up.

Please come back to NYG, Victor.

I saw Earl Sweatshirt over and over. He was at near my gate the day I flew in and the day I flew out. He looked tired….people still bothered the hell out of him lmao. I understand fully….because he is skilled.

Seeing people perform who have dominated your music choices for months is a crazy feeling.

Perfect example of this is Aston Matthews. He’s from Cali so I didnt forsee having a chance to see him perform anytime soon. Thrasher CLEARLY loves me because they put him in a showcase. I came to see him and ASAP Ferg but I was more than satisfied seeing Aston do his thing. He’s confident, his music is quality, and he has very good people around him. I chopped it up with one of the dudes from his crew “Cutthroat” and he said “yo come turn up when Aston gets on stage!” When Aston did “Latino Heat”, the place turned into a madhouse. I had a stupid grin on my face; it was like seeing a friend make it. Good things lie in his future.

I also got to catch GrandeMarshall in Fader Fort. I’ve met Grande a few times and he’s always shown love. Seeing someone who moves around like a regular dude get and maintain the attention of a Fader Fort crowd, far from home? Madness. I also dug how A-Trak holds him down and vouches for him with such conviction. It’s clear that Fool’s Gold believes in Grande and that’s vital. I feel lucky that I got to even be in Austin for such a big moment. Grande went up there and performed like the crowd didn’t affect him at all. Perfect recreations of the songs on his tape 800.

Heartbreak.

I missed Future, who decided to destroy Fader that night.

I missed Inc., who’s album I bought off of the strength of one song. I then commenced to listen to the CD for nearly a week straight.

I missed Waaves, about 3-4 times. I am a loser.

I airballed on Solange because I am an idiot who doesn’t read the fine print and I am impatient.

Chief Keef cancelled on a lineup that was GBE/RL Grime/Baauer/Flatbush Zombies/etc……the line was as long as the Trail of Tears and we were there an hour and a half. I stared to the skies and hoped BasedGod would deliver me from this pain…..did not happen.

This is my second time going to SXSW. Shows get cancelled. You miss stuff. It happens. It just happened A LOT because stuff that would’ve been a cakewalk to get into last year was like trying to sneak into Area 51 this year. But I won’t complain.

I was real god damn drunk. We were real god damn drunk. 

We were thoroughly chopped. Don’t think anyone around me was sober after 4 all week.

Me?? I was perpetually destroyed because A)back home I really don’t go out or drink that often B)I enjoy being irresponsible out of town.

Last year, we spent a LOT of time in a bar called Toulouse. This bar has 5 dollar mason jars. Mason jars of what?? Whatever your soon to be straining from this greasy ass Texas food heart desires! We prefer the “Adios” jar because it gets you remixed real quickly and is by far the strongest. I was throwing those shits back like Berry Kool Aid. Predictably, I got a lil wild , bros.

Prolly my worst case of “lord help me , I’m very drunk” was Thursday. I believe (THINGS ARE HAZY) I started off with two Stormy Seas (pls Google) that were free at this event. A Rum and Coke. Another Rum and Coke…..another Rum and Coke. This was before I even touched Toulouse. A few hours later I end up in Toulouse with the ever sweet Patrina. We went to ODU together and I haven’t seen her in years; I had no choice but to get her drunk. So I knocked down 2 Adios. She knocked down 2 Adios. All I remember from there is getting dubbed/twerked to the point I was squished UNDER the bar. I also remember vigorously squeezing A LOT of asses that were literally offered to me. At this point I’m nearly half blind but I can identify a southern ass in my clutches blindfolded. In short , I WAS LIVING.

IMG_1107

(screenshot because the actual pic is lost in cyberspace…Patrina unfortunately lost her phone that night)

Patrina intro’d me to these 4 fine YELLABONES from Houston. I was so thrashed that I blew it when I shook one of their hands. She saw me fail and gave my half balled up hand a slap/pound then a handshake. SMH. All was rectified by one of her friends offering me her ass to squeeze. Why me??? ‘Cause real black is back…..fam. Looking like the iPhone dark side of the moon emoji is never a negative.

Every night I entered that bar I definitely said and did shit that would make my mother shake her head. She’s probably going to read this so: Hello , MommyRav.

So yeah go to the Toulouse. Ass will end up in your hand every night. Or maybe that’s just me. LOL!!!!!!!

All in all, Austin was fun. It was tough , it included stress, but I think we still managed to work it and win where we could. If you have a chance to go , do it.