Biggin’ Up My AstroTwins: Sade Adu and Super Mario 357

Last week,  I met myself and I was a dude.

There’s this dude (whose uncle lives in the basement) whom I’ve known in passing for a while now. The first thing about him is he has shoulders like a Frigidaire and a build like a defensive lineman. Son is like 6’4, 250 and his fingers are mad thick and long like hotdogs. He radiates diesel. This young girl across the street liked him so we’d introduced them, telling her what to do to build a relationship with him because in addition to the Bod, he’s also a good catch. Nice energy, nice ways, nice job and a nice personality. If she had played her cards right, she could’ve had a nice little something.

But instead she got on some hot and horny shit and fucked him. And him being a Capricorn, that was that. I knew for a while, from casual conversation he was a Capricorn but it wasn’t until I talked to him last Monday that I found out his whole DOB and did his chart.

He  is (damn near) my AstroTwin.  Sun in Capricorn, Moon in Aries, Venus in Aquarius. That was crazy to me! I was like Oh shit, no wonder.  He just came out of a nine year long relationship with a girl who got the axe for being ungrateful. Check. When they were together, he just wanted it to grow and develop. Check. He’s lonely and he misses her but neither one of them are changing so its not a go. Check. He said, the next chick that bags me has to understand I do the things I do to make you smile, not to spoil you. Check. The most attractive thing about him is he looks good and he knows it but he is not led around by his dick. He never cheated on homegirl. (You lost big sistren. Verrry verrry big…Good luck finding a next man to buy you red bottom shoes and bring his ass home every night, lol.  Really tho…)

I feel mad love for him like I wish this dude the very best of everything in life…love, peace and happiness.

Onward and upward, somehow, I happened upon Sade’s astrochart.

I, like everybody else, love Sade. Not just her music but her whole vibe. My favorite song of hers is Maureen, about her homegirl from back in the days.

I also love Let’s Not Play The Game. (which now that I try to post the video, I don’t think was ever her single, like maybe she did a remix…cause I downloaded it off Limewire but the only artist that comes up on youtube is Maxwell.)

This chic is so together, so awesome and cool and laid back. On style alone, she’s all of that, real talk. And I don’t even say “real talk”… or “all of that”.  And like everybody else, I don’t know ANYTHING about her. I didn’t know if she’s younger or older than me, who her man is, if she has kids, nothing. Until I saw her chart and I had to find out….  (or better yet confirm, because once I saw the similarities I  knew the answers at once…None of my fucking business!!!).

She’s my astrotwin, for real for real: Sun in Capricorn, Moon in Aries, Mercury in Capricorn, Venus in Aquarius and Mars in Taurus!!!

Not only is Sade great, stylish and iconic, she is one of the best people who ever lived. She has to be and I found an interview with her and dead serious, we are just alike so she must be:

Sade is so very private, so extremely wary of the press that her friends – all of whom are bound to silence – have nicknamed her Howie, after Howard Hughes. The most reclusive British singer of the 1980s has kept such a low profile since her Smooth Operator days – one tour in 14 years – that, when we meet at the London office of her record label to hear the songs from her new album, Soldier of Love, I am the only person in the room who has met her before.

That is more telling about the accuracy of Greecian based astrology— which would have you believe that as a meanie-ass, workaholic Capricorn she’d live in the workplace or in her case, record label — than anything else but anyway…

She is the most successful solo female artist Britain has ever produced: she has sold more than 50m albums in a career that stretches back 27 years. And more than half of those albums were sold from the mid-1990s onwards, when Sade all but disappeared from view. Since then, she has only surfaced a few times — and this is the only face-to-face interview she will consent to now.

Paradoxically, in person she is open, friendly and relaxed – she’s happy to let me into her spacious Georgian house in leafy north London – and willing to laugh at herself.

A home she loves and hates to leave and I’m sure was her pet and her project and her baby. I assure you, this home is solid brick or stone, huge but comfy and luxurious and worn. He house is addictive and sleepy and cozy.

She has never lived down the image of her sashaying around in a designer frock singing Smooth Operator. But like so much of the little that is known – or believed – about Sade Adu, that’s not right… In her mind Sade is, and always has been, a country girl at heart.

Sade is keen on “loyalty to the point of clannishness”, according to one longtime friend.

Their earnings from recording and live work have always been an even four-way split. There have been arguments over the years – “because my naffometer is much more sensitive than theirs”, she claims – but no break-ups or new members.

“I always said that if I could just find a guy who could chop wood and had a nice smile it didn’t bother me if he was an aristocrat or a thug as long as he was a good guy.”

I feel like I’ve won the lottery, finally.

“I’m not someone who needs a lot of money. You could break into this house and leave after half an hour without finding anything worth stealing,” says Sade, and it’s hard to disagree. The first-floor drawing room of her London house is a large but sparsely furnished space with a couple of white fabric-covered sofas, a polished-wood floor and nothing much on the walls. For the past hour we’ve been sitting on a red rug in front of a one-bar electric fire that must be about as old as she is. She has several of these obsolete burners, she says. “They’re my favourite.”

Frugality – another traditional country habit – is her style, but she’s generous with it. As soon as the royalties rocked up, she helped her mother buy a house in Clacton, bought her brother Banji a place in the States, and supported various unnamed friends in “business ventures”. Her touring musicians comment on how fair she has been in awarding valuable songwriting credits for their contributions — a rare thing in the tightfisted world of pop accountancy.

She has done this on the strict understanding that none of the beneficiaries talk about it, “or ever write anything about me”, which they haven’t. It’s not just a personal-privacy thing, or control freakery, she claims, “I just don’t like the power relationship it implies”.

“I always wanted to have money.  But the great thing is when you’ve got it, your life doesn’t revolve around money any more.”

Please let that be true. And let me find out for myself very, very, very soon Universe ; ))).

Outside on the drive is her boxy old Volvo estate, which she traded for her vintage BMW

My two favorite cars!!! My last car was a Volvo 940 and my next car is a BMW 750 or 760 or old school 740. What a coincidence!

With her sensible country head on, she realises how fortunate she is. She has sorted out her home life, earned all the money she will ever need, and continues to make music in her own time and in her own way. “Is it still worth it? I think it is. After every album, I think, ‘Right that’s it, no more.’ But how lucky am I at my age still to be doing this without any outside pressure?”

This is the point I want to reach in my own life. I want to feel like this, too. I am so happy that me and Sade are astro-twins!!!


My Three Loves

I feel mad lonely today. Just lonely like all alone in this muhfucka.

I am feeling that gloom again because I want a man in my life so bad I am about to start doing crazy shit. Like cutting off all my hair, tatooing my face and piercing my lip. Not. But you know what I mean. I’m really feeling bad that I don’t have anybody to send me little love notes or to go to the movies with or to try and impress with the West Indian Skill. And I’m feeling even worse because its not just a man I want, its three.

I want a man I get money with. I’m tired of fucking up hundreds and thousands, I’m ready to blow millions now. I want to be a man’s vehicle to serious paper. Let me explain because I know  that sounds crazy. I’m not selling ass, pussy or giving head for money. Period. But I want management that can get a chick focused and amped to paper chase for. I can’t do it myself because my head be a million fcken places at once and the motivation won’t be there. It won’t be motivation, it’ll be desperation.  I know me and I know I could get gassed up into producing millions and billions. I get off on the praise more than the money and I would pay a man a million dollars for the rush of being a bitch that could put a million dollars in his hands.

I want a sweetheart. Somebody I’m really feeling and I fuck with everyday, no drama, no lies/games/bullshit, no baggage. A sweetheart I can jog in the park with and rollerskate with and  have fun with.  Definitely younger than me and no kids, no baby mother, no wife, no dumbness.

I want (of course) the Soulmate. Let me tell you about the Soulmate. The Soulmate is gorgeous, cut thee fuck up, 6’4″ 225-275lbs ideally, rock solid. He is deep, irreligious, passionate and magnetic and shit is just *beautiful* with him. The Soulmate teaches me and enlightens me. He maybe has kids that he has custody of but other than that, I don’t want the Soulmate to have shit. I don’t want the Soulmate to come into Us already made. I want to build it up with him. I want it to be so beautiful with him like even when shit is bad, it’s still all good. And I want this man to love me to death, like he could never again be without me and the bond between us is so strong, it can overcome anything. I want the Soulmate to be fucked up in the game when we meet. I’m not even with throwing stuff in people’s faces so it’s not for that. I just don’t want to come into anybody’s pre-made anything. I want to build him up mentally and physically and spiritually while he does the same for me. I want the Soulmate to be Aries, Taurus, or Scorpio. I want to have a baby or two with the soulmate but… not more than I want all my kids to have the same father…

I wish me luck because what an order, lol.

The Get Money Man is possibly in the works. He’s the dude that I wrote about in the last post. I just thought of an Alias for him too…Five Oh Five. 505, like the jeans lmao.

The Sweetheart is nowhere to be found. The men I am meeting dis-fucking-gust me. First of all, I am not attracted to men my age, which is dead wrong but it is what it is. Second of all, why would I want to sneak around and get half assed by somebody else’s cheating piece of shit husband? The fuck would I want a piece of relationship for? For that, couldn’t I just stay with my own kids father?

The only possibility is this Sag dude I  met the same day 505 hit me up. He needs an alias too so we’ll call him 3rd Sun. 3rd Sun looks mad good and he is beyond smart and aware on the spiritual plane. But, he is all wrong for me and I’m not attracted to him sexually at all. He is definitely going in the movie though, without a doubt.

My Gemini cheating loser “sweetheart” (whose alias is Bogus Balonius) is locked up. That’s a fun dude but again, all wrong and I am not fucking him ever which is a problem.  I could never, ever, never play myself like I’ma make him my man and he is definitely not athletic, lmao… so there would be nooooo jogging, rollerskating and eating healthy for us. I miss Bogus like crazy because he was funny as hell but dude is so full of shit, you wonder how his organs and bones fit in there. I wonder how long he got sent for. Bogus is definitely going in the movie.

The Soulmate is nowhere in sight. I don’t have a bead on that guy at all….. He’s probably locked up right now with Bogus Balonius… or in the trenches in his country…. or sticking shit up in the Gulf of Aden, on his Red Beard steez.

This Is Your Brain On Sex

I woke up this morning feeling way better than I did when I went to bed last night. Last night I felt shitty because of hoodrats hating on me. This morning I feel great because the sun is shining, my energy levels are high and I envision a preeeeetttty perfect day ahead of me. I am going jogging in Prospect Park, then hitting up this little spot over there and just enjoying the vibe, then finding a Mango Tango smoothie and drinking that as I walk a mile or so the bus stop. I’m taking the bus home, to people watch these Brooklyn streets. When I get home, I’m cooking some supremely good shit and then kicking it with my kids until I go to bed.

I don’t know if I will be drinking and smoking today. (More about that later, in a later post.)

Anyway, yesterday night we were exploring different aspects re: macks and players. I was going to launch my follow-up post to that ( “Dick Rationing and… Other Plusses That At First Seem Like Minuses” ) but before I can do that I feel I have to lay a foundation so I’m leading off instead with… “This is Your Brain on Sex.”

I’m not going to go into the man’s side of it because well, I’m not a man… and between Maxim, FHM, Men’s Health Plus (and et cetera ad nauseum), you can read stupid theories about why men trip off so hard off sex the whole day long if you want to.

But ladies, let’s talk about why we do.  ‘Cause really this post should be titled “This is Your Brain on Dick.”

I’ll do all the talking for now. You speak your piece in the comments section…


When a woman is in the presence of an oxytocin-stimulating man, she may override her intellectual judgment about their “compatibility,” especially when she attempts to diminish oxytocin’s impact with alcohol.

Where formerly she might be sexually conservative, requiring a serious commitment, she now finds herself deeply involved sexually before negotiating boundaries, such as his (or her) current marital status, criminal background, and financial accountability.

Her brain may disqualify him,
while her body says “yes.”

The problem with oxytocin-based addictive bonding to an inappropriate man is that the intellect is relegated to a secondary status in choice and judgment. The good counsel of parents, friends, religious leaders and psychotherapists is of no benefit. Addiction to oxytocin as a pleasure takes over.

Oxytocin is a peptide (you’re on the internet, google it) “secreted from the pituitary gland’s posterior lobe from which it goes to receptor sites in the brain and throughout the reproductive tract, especially where estrogen resides.”  Oxytocin is serious. It plays a significant role in our  instinct to love and form social bonds. Oxytocin is so integral to emotional health that without healthy levels of it we start to exhibit neuroses.

Its important that oxytocin is released by the pituatary gland because the pituitary gland is a very special gland.

The sixth chakra is known as the 3rd eye. According to the yogis, the pituitary gland of the sixth chakra and the pineal gland of the seventh chakra must join essences to open the 3rd eye.

The master gland is about the size of a pea, located behind the center of our forehead, between our eyes. The sixth chakra is called the Brow Chakra. It is the main control center that sends messages to all the other glands from its two lobes, the posterior and the anterior. It prompts the proper growth of glands and organs and regulates sexual development.

This gland is called the “seat of the mind”. The frontal lobe regulates emotional thoughts like poetry and music. The anterior lobe regulates concrete thought and intellectual concepts.

-Beth Coleman, Opening The Third Eye

To me this connection to the chakras explains the spiritual component of oxytocin. Think about it. Love, trust, bonding and feeling comfortable are spriritual, not mental or physiological. Further,

In the brain, oxytocin is involved in social recognition and bonding, and might be involved in the formation of trust between people.

Oxytocin secreted from the pituitary gland cannot re-enter the brain because of the blood-brain barrier. Instead, the behavioural effects of oxytocin are thought to reflect release from centrally-projecting oxytocin neurons, different from those that project to the pituitary gland. Oxytocin receptors are expressed by neurons in many parts of the brain and spinal cord, including the amygdala, ventromedial hypothalamus, septum and brainstem.

  • Sexual arousal. Oxytocin injected into the cerebrospinal fluid causes spontaneous erections in rats (Gimpl 2001), reflecting actions in the hypothalamus and spinal cord.
  • Bonding. In the Prairie Vole, oxytocin released into the brain of the female during sexual activity is important for forming a monogamous pair bond with her sexual partner. Vasopressin appears to have a similar effect in males . In people, plasma concentrations of oxytocin have been reported to be higher amongst people who claim to be falling in love. Oxytocin has a role in social behaviours in many species, and so it seems likely that it has similar roles in humans. It has been suggested that deficiencies in oxytocin pathways in the brain might be a feature of autism.
  • Maternal behaviour. Sheep and rat females given oxytocin antagonists after giving birth do not exhibit typical maternal behaviour. By contrast, virgin sheep females show maternal behaviour towards foreign lambs upon cerebrospinal fluid infusion of oxytocin, which they would not do otherwise.
  • Various anti-stress functions. Oxytocin reduces blood pressure and cortisol levels, increasing tolerance to pain, and reducing anxiety. Oxytocin may play a role in encouraging “tend and befriend”, as opposed to “fight or flight”, behaviour, in response to stress.
  • Increasing trust and reducing fear. In a risky investment game, experimental subjects given nasally administered oxytocin displayed “the highest level of trust” twice as often as the control group. Subjects who were told that they were interacting with a computer showed no such reaction, leading to the conclusion that oxytocin was not merely affecting risk-aversion (Kosfeld 2005). Nasally-administered oxytocin has also been reported to reduce fear, possibly by inhibiting the amygdala (which is thought to be responsible for fear responses). (Kirsch 2005)
  • According to some studies in animals, oxytocin inhibits the development of tolerance to various addictive drugs (opiates, cocaine, alcohol) and reduces withdrawal symptoms. (Kovacs 1998)
  • Certain learning and memory functions are impaired by centrally-administered oxytocin. (Gimpl 2001)

Like I said before, Oxytocin is serious. When a man triggers it in you, and this is something that happens chemically, unconsciously and naturally, he triggers something in you spiritually too. You form a bond with him that relaxes your normal protective mechanisms… you trust him, without good healthy fear… subvert your natural fight or flight response to provocations in favor of a “tend (give) and befriend” one … and then when you get your heart broken, oxytocin numbs the pain and fucks up your learning and memory functions so you don’t learn from mistakes or remember stuff you should be keeping in mind.  Oxytocin is the story of most bitches’ lives.

The magnetic attraction that first draws you to him, once activated by orgasm is the end for a lot of women.  A dickmatized woman will tear her life to shreds with her bare hands, eat it and then throw herself off a cliff over that dude. We’ve all seen it.

And we’ve all just shook our heads and breathed a biiiiiiiggggggggggg sigh of relief that this time, by the grace of god, it wasnt us… driving nine hundred miles with a diaper on to go holla at  Side Shorty.

Ala Lisa Marie Nowak, that poor woman canonized the patron saint of Every Bitch Dick Made Crazy.

Lisa Marie Nowak (née Caputo) (born May 10, 1963) is a United States naval officer and a former NASA astronaut. Born in Washington, DC, she was selected by NASA in 1996 and qualified as a mission specialist in robotics. Nowak flew aboard Space Shuttle Discovery during mission STS-121 in July 2006 where she was responsible for operating the robotic arms of the shuttle and the International Space Station.Police said Nowak drove 900 miles, donned a disguise and was armed with a BB gun and pepper spray when she confronted a woman she believed was a competitor for the affections of Navy Cmdr. William Oefelein, an unmarried fellow astronaut.Nowak raced from Houston to Orlando wearing diapers in the car so she wouldn’t have to stop to go to the bathroom, authorities said.

Dressed in a wig and a trench coat, she waited for Shipman’s plane to land and then boarded the same airport shuttle bus Shipman took to get to her car, police said. Shipman told police she noticed someone following her, hurried inside the car and locked the doors, according to the arrest affidavit.

Nowak rapped on the window, tried to open the car door and asked for a ride. Shipman refused but rolled down the car window a few inches when Nowak started crying, the statement said. Nowak then sprayed a chemical into Shipman’s car, the affidavit said. Shipman drove to the parking lot booth and police were called.

An officer reported following Nowak and watching her throw away a bag containing the wig and BB gun. Police also found a steel mallet, a 4-inch folding knife, rubber tubing, $600 and garbage bags inside a bag Nowak was carrying when she was arrested, authorities said.

Oefelein and Shipman, who worked at Patrick Air Force Base near the Kennedy Space Center, did not immediately return calls seeking comment.

According to NASA’s official biography, Nowak is a Naval Academy graduate who has a master’s degree in aeronautical engineering. She has a teenage son and younger twin girls.

Oefelein has two children and began his aviation career as a teenager flying floatplanes in Alaska, according to a NASA biography. He studied electrical engineering at Oregon State University and later earned a master’s degree in aviation systems at the University of Tennessee Space Institute. He has been an astronaut since 1998.

Lisa Nowak threw away a balla ass career, a beautiful family, her reputation and basically her entire life’s work over an oxytocin addiction to a man. A woman with the intelligence, self discipline and work ethic it takes to qualify as mission specialist in robotics for NASA hopped in the whup with a diaper on, and drove 900 miles straight without pause to execute what had to be the dumbest plan in the world, to kidnap another woman from an airport (ever heard of Homeland Security and cameras everywhere and especially at the airport recording video that will be looked at when the Side Shorty turned up missing? No??) while wearing an obvious and ridiculous disguise, over a man.

Damn, homie.

But can you really say you didn’t understand just a little bit though when you read that story in the news?

Oxytocin is serious.

Tell Lies, Keep Secrets, Play Games or… How To Be a Player

I was talking to my Alter Ego just now about what me and Vicky and Nazima got into this morning. My Alter Ego is my alter ego because I’m a Capricorn with Moon in Aries and She’s an Aries with Moon in Capricorn. We both have Mars in Taurus and she doesnt know her birth time but we look alike enough that I’m willing to bet she’s Libra Asc like me. I can’t think of a suitable psedonym for her and she needs one because her name is unique and instantly recognizable.  And thats’ a problem.

Anyway AE and I were discussing Sour Bitches. She was appalled that I “bought into that shit”. She recognizes that Sour Bitches exist but she thinks they exist because they are i.e. some bitches are just born Sour, they don’t have to be made Sour. What positively sickened her though was that I “bought into” the “macking bullshit”, which is “Ignorant Nigger Nonsense“.

Let me clarify something. My honest opinion of the whole macking, collecting women, harem shit is that its one of the key destroyers of the Black Family.  I didn’t buy into the bullshit, I am merely  trying to understand it.

I have always hated being lumped in with all women. There is nothing that turns me off faster than for somebody to start a thought with “Women all…” or “Why do you women always…?” any blanket statement or stupid generalization based on the percentage of the human female population they know or have heard of. So I’m going to try not to do that but I am going to use biology to show the commonality in all of us women.

Women invest alot of themselves biologically in having children. During pregnancy, the baby takes from you whatever it needs to develop, to the extent of causing your teeth to fall out if it needs the calcium. After the birth, the greater the investment of the biological father in the infant the better the child’s outcomes:

Family structure has important implications for children’s outcomes. Research has shown that, on measures of school achievement and adjustment, children living with other than two biological or adoptive parents are less well-off than children of two parents.

Children raised by single parents or by a parent and a stepparent do less well in school and have more behavior problems (McLanahan and Sandefur 1994).

One of the most important contributors to differential child outcomes is the lower level of resources available to single parent families (Duncan and Brooks-Gunn 1997; McLanahan and Sandefur 1994).

But, if income were the determining factor, it could be expected that children would do as well in two-parent stepfamilies as in two-parent biological families, since the family incomes of children of the former are comparable to those in the latter (McLanahan and Sandefur 1994).

Yet such children are more similar to children in single-parent than to those in two-parent families in terms of their risk of high school drop-out, teen childbearing, and productive activity as young adults (McLanahan and Sandefur 1994). , “Biological and Stepfather Investment in Children”

If another woman takes the father of your children away, she is depriving your children not just of his immediate presence, she is raising the chances that your child will live a life of negative circumstances – poverty, poor educational quality, instability, themselves becoming a single parent and etc. Also, the poorer you are, the worse the place you live is. Even in the worst ghettoes, the presence of a strong father in the home puts that family on par with those earning multiple times their income in terms of outcomes. Much gets said about strong black women that raise kids  without their father when those children excel but statistically, that is not the norm. The absence of a strong father in the home leads to higher incidences of  gang, criminal and drug involvement as well as every other negative occurance, including suicide, all over the world. Literally, lack of their father’s resources and investment could end up a matter of life and death for your child.

For that reason alone, regardless of how we are raised or taught we should be, on a biological level other women of childbearing age are the competition for resources that you want to secure for your offspring. So, alot of the  hatred women have towards each other is rooted in biology. The competition to secure a pair-bond is rooted in nature.

And, the more women a man is having sex with, the more chances there are mathematically that another woman will take his resources for herself in the form of gifts and shit he tricks off on her or for her children in the form of his time and money.

Therefore it is not logical for a woman capable of reproducing to be okay with her man fucking other women.

The mack-ers seeks to get around this by saying “these women all have their own money and resources and can finance their own children” thereby excusing the man except to the extent that he “can” provide for his child. Not only is this seperation of the mother and child disruptive to the family unit, it also downplays the importance of time, teaching the child day to day life lessons through both example and words and physically caring for the child.

Regardless how good a man’s intentions are there are still only 24 hours in a day and you can only be in one place at one time so the more he has to spread out his resources in terms of time and attention, the less there is for everyone. And its a fact of life that at the end of the day when all is said and done between the man who is fucking a whole bunch of women and now has a whole bunch of kids, some of those kids are going to end up without.

When there are no children involved, the Mack then says its all fun and games. The woman gets the benefit of his energy when he’s around and sexual gratification (when he’s not dick rationing, LMMFAO!!!) and he gets the sexual satisfaction, whatever goods and services she brings to the table as well as the ego stroking of having so many women emotionally attached to him. There’s no recognition of the fact that women need more emotionally than one or two days a week of having a man.

Whether there are or aren’t children involved in the Player scenario, because of the added “Tell Lies” component , the women the player is playing usually believe they are in or will be in a monogamous relationship with him. While the mack-ers seem more fixated on  power over and psychological dominance of a female, the player is out for sex. He gets his fix from getting high numbers of women to have sex with him. The mack-ers  wants the women to know he has a Bitches Collection and to overide their biological aversion to that because he is so powerfully desirable, he can overpower millenia upon millenia of survival programming.

The Play Games component for both men is in getting past the woman’s protective radar for bullshit. The Mack does this by getting inside her head and using whatever he finds there to his benefit. Once he has hooked the woman, the Play Games component is to keep the woman at a disadvantage psychologically and emotionally. In this worldview, women are cunning, hurtful, sneaky and malicious. They are always looking for an opening to castrate a man, take his shit, cuckold him or damage him psychologically. He has to maintain control of the woman by confusing her, outwitting her, sabotaging her and (of course) playing mind games.

The reality though is most women are won over by what they think is sincere interest in them, and the man’s intelligence and potential. They have found a good man it seems and they can envision a future with him.

The Play Games component for the player is in evading women after sex, juggling women and narrowly escaping getting caught and getting women to do things that give him a funny story to tell. His psychological intrigues are for the most part included in the Tell Lies component.

The Keep Secrets component for both of them is the same. Of course, for the player  it intersects with Tell Lies. What they both keep secret is their Self. The player does it to add to his resource display illusion. His good looks are a genetic resource, who doesn’t want a cute baby? As is his jewelry, car, clothes, hood rep, proffession, etc. whatever his lure is. He cannot risk putting a chink in his armor by revealing who he really is above and beyond his resource illusion. The mack does it as part of his Play Games component. To have a pyschological advantage, he draws the woman out into the open while always keeping himself in the shadows.

Women experience these men as emotionally unavailable men in off-kilter relationships where it feels so good when your with him but there is always some nagging sense that something is wrong and because there are always levels where you can’t connect with him, you always feel a longing. What’s fucked up about it is that its the longing that makes you needy and clingy and off-balance. These relationships feel like a USDA serving of your favorite food (where a serving is the size of your thumb and a plate of food is the size of your fists) and then…nothing.  These are the relationships that fuck up your life not just because of the inevitable heartbreak but because of what it does to your faith in and connectedness with your fellow man.

When a man plays you for an asshole and then ridicules you in front of the whole world for not stepping off when his fun is done, its devastating. But I think I figured out a few ways we can outwit the whole process and I will share them wit ya next time.

I tried to be scientific in my dissection, let me know how I did.

Keep Secrets, Play Games or…How to Be a Mack

Life is funny this way. I started to post today about no longer being in the dumps and why that was. (I gained Perspective.)

What’s the deal, readership?

(I stole that. Straight stole it from BossMack TopSoil, Top Mack Nigga. Go check him out…His shit is not a blog, its an Education.)

Today your Gurl got that old thing back, feeling the spark of life. I’m not crying and on top of not crying, I’m smiling because shit is good, mane. Why, you ask?


I got that perspective courtesy of  two dudes who blog.  The first is BossMack TopSoil who I shouted out at the top and the second is DailyPiff CEO.

As I’m writing the post, I went off on a tangent about my girl Empress and ended up doing  a whole other post about our friendship instead. By the time I finished writing that and I went to go put the tags on it, I came up with “Realness” and I thought about the other shit, the Not So Realness. And that added to my Perspective.

My original post was about the perspective I got from two homies whose blogs I read. The first one is DailyPiff CEO. MP3 put me on to him and he’s funnier than a lil bit so its one of the e-highlights of my day now. I like Piff for a few reasons. He’s got goood sense, he’s my homegirl’s people, he’s a regular nigga and you can feel him. Even though he’s hood, you could tell with a broadened horizon, he’d grow into a real life Rennaissance man. Be sure to check him out and help him do good numbers so his movement can prosper.  A few days ago tho, he wrote a piece about having sex with somebody after you find out the cheated on you. What stuck out to me about that is when he said, “You be thinking the shit is even but hell no… its NEVER even.”

This combined with the perspective I got from the second bloggerman, BossMack TopSoil, and his piece about relationship questions, specifically the question about a woman whose house you’re posted up in being fed up wit ya.  He said basically after you do a certain amount of shit, you can’t go back because there will now be “larceny” in a bitch’s heart towards you.

So combine the two. You find out the man cheats, (because don’t get it fucked up, he didn’t cheat, that nigga cheats), you try and make it extra good to show him how much better it is with you than with Huh. But…the pain sits in your heart, still and the shit festers and festers and festers until that’s all you feel. And, shit is not even.

Your pride wants you to have this fellow back in the throes of loving you. So you do the needful that will net you that.

Your ego can’t take the loss to Huh. Its not personal, its business. Its a grudge match, not bidwhist with other bitches. It is not checkers, chess or mah jong, its a dog fight.  So you do whatever you have to so that bitch remains a side bitch.

You can’t get over the past. The whole way shit gets fucked up feels like the scenes in the movies when the crew is about to overcome and instead…one starts smoking crack (New Jack City), does some dickhead shit for no reason (The Score), buries his face in a mound of cocaine (Scarface)…the shit just feels like why? Why we had to go out like this? You think of all the shit y’all went thru together and how sweet it would have been to rise victorious, smelling like a rose,  oh so fly afterall and the longing for someway, somehow still, a happy ending… fucks with you. So you hang on to the dreams you had for the future and you mindlessly keep living with the man knowing you gotta get there someday regardless.


A future of what? And don’t forget, shit IS NOT even.

And this is where the the other part of the perspective I got from them comes in. For whatever reason, men have decided they are not going to be with one woman at a time. I’ll post another time about those possible reasons but for now, lets just accept that.

They are not going to be with one woman at a time. DailyPiff seems to be saying that he’ll have a main woman and shorties on the side. BossMack TopSoil has something called a BossBrizzle and a Team, consisting of a minor league and a Majors. The BossBrizzle is (unless this bitch cain’t read or it never occurred to her to google her man) okay with his having other women and the Teammates are okay with being the Team. OK. So far so good.

We’re going to excuse Piff right here because he acknowledges his cheating is cheating.

We’re going to turn the spotlight on BossMack TopSoil. Not to hate on dude, ’cause like I said, I like his blog and he has mastered a certain degree of success, and you can only respect that. He doesn’t acknowledge cheating. He also thinks of  relationships in terms of hiring and firing.

She said I’m no longer hired, she said that I am fired. Swag so stupid and this bitch straight dumped me.

-Gucci Mane, 2008

You get fired for displeasing the homie. Not pampering the swipe, not bringing “something” to the table, not presenting him with oblations, coming to house without asking, demanding he stop seeing other bitches and et cetera. (I already gave you his link so if you need a TopSoiltionary, make your mouse do what it do.)

When you get fired, you go kick rocks.

And then you disappear, to reappear again, as a Sour Bitch. You don’t have to get fired by BossMack TopSoil to be reborn as a Sour Bitch, you don’t even have to get fired (some Sour Bitches keep a man…like a pet usually) you just have to not Handle It Right.

And now we can excuse BossMack TopSoil and put the spotlight on Handling It Right.

We all know and agree on what a Sour Bitch is. They are rampant in public service jobs, jobs they take for the sole pupose of denying people benefits to which they are entitled, supervising their enslavement, authorizing tortue, co-signing that real live bullshit and of course, eating greasy food all day while they should be working. They are rampant in the hood, in some families and at every “Grown and Sexy”/ “All- White”/ “Single Ladies Free All Nite!” Affair.

We all know and agree on what a Sour Bitch is. And that we’d rather be dead than be one.

What we don’t know though is how do you Handle It Right so you don’t become one?

How do you handle the heartache, suspicion, hurt, betrayal, disrespect, rejection that sets in your heart when a man plays you so it doesn’t turn you Sour? And how do you do it again and again and again (because since dudes have decided they are not going to be with one woman, this is going to be a recurring problem) and again?

Tell me your thoughts on this Readership…

(Part II of Keep Secrets, Play Games or…How to Be a Mack coming soon. )

Tears or The Baseline of Niceness

I cry all the time. I could be anywhere, anything could be going on, and I will burst into tears.

I cry all the time.

I don’t know why I’m crying. I know that I am sad. I know my whole chest, my head, behind my eyes, everything hurts but I don’t know why specifically I am crying.

I realized a long time ago that nothing is going to change about this. I went through all the stages of grief for Hope That Shit’d Change. No stages left and no progress either.

I know I cry sometimes for the future. I cry sometimes because I have to start all over again, from scratch. With nothing. But baggage.

I cry mostly because I feel so lonely. I wonder why God made me this way. I wonder why I have so many flaws, so many things wrong with me, so much I wish I could change. So much shit that I still don’t understand. So much shit I don’t even know. I cry because I know everybody is here for a purpose, to do or be something or someone only they could be. I cry when I think that my only purpose was to have the kids.

I cry because I always feel like I am missing a critical part, koolaid no sugar, hammer no nails, walkman no headphones, something…

I cry because its like the fullest life life I live will always be in my head.  That shit will always be like this and I will never really do or be anything, I’ll always be a failure.

I cry because noone loves me and I always have to understand why no one can be to me what I need them to be. I have to understand that my father is “in Canada”…my mother didn’t want to be lonely…they’re not used to me…its just something about the whole shit…we have problems…he’s confused…what did I expect. People have shit on me so bad in this life and its always the people I need. Why? I know…Moon conjunct Chiron in the seventh house, in Aries. But why God?

I have daughters and I tell them everyday through gritted teeth if I have to, how much I love them. Even when I don’t feel it, I know it, I know they need to know it so I say it. Why did I have to be born to a bitch that could never tell me once that she loved me? And why did I not love her?  Why didn’t I love my mother? My siblings? My family?

Why do I dislike so many people? Why do things that don’t bother anybody else bother the living shit out of me till I have to get away from them?

How come nobody likes me either? I have no friends, no loves, noone who gives a fuck if I live or die. Except for the kids and I can’t put that kind of weight on them.

I can’t put it on my father. I want to go see him but I don’t know. I don’t know where he is, how I would get there and I don’t want to go alone.

I can’t put it on my kids father because he doesn’t give a fuck about me. Two weeks ago he told me we were establishing a baseline of niceness with each other. I feel his baseline as a giant mindfuck. I feel it as one big fucken game that has no winners because nobody is playing for keeps, this is all for shits and giggles. I was the only asshole who took it seriously enough to have kids with him.

I cry because I feel like this miserable bitch with the weight of the world on my shoulders, like I’m dying. I pray to a God that I don’t believe in, I talk to a Universe that doesn’t ever respond.