Tell Me Something Good

In all my experiences with men, platonic and otherwise, it seems the biggest insecurity comes in the form of their magic stick. The number of guys that brag about their manhood, the way they work it, and how they make girls scream for their lives is far and frequent, always sitting at the surface of their conversation. I'd love to say that they have nothing else to talk about, but that isn't true either. It's just that so much of what makes them tick hangs right between their legs.

On the receiving end are women. Women who know the more puffed with pride his ego is, the better we're gonna get it. Because of this, women know exactly what to say to cater to his balled ego. We know just the right words to use because just lying there afterwards (or during) doesn't cut it. Men need to be stroked just as much as we do, so when me and my friends tried to come up with our most memorable male comments, we opened the wine, kicked off our shoes and reminisced over some of our favs.

Aww, get it. Maria was dating a younger-than-her recent transplant to the city. He was working in finance, of course, until he realized what a blood sucking life it was and cut out to go to business school. But little youngin' was dope in the sack and every time he thought he was performing well, he'd have just one question for Maria: "Am I gettin' it? Am. I. Gettin. It?" Maria was thrown off the first time, almost giggled, but when he went for it the next time they were in bed, she all but shouted, "Aww, get it! Aww, get it!" And boy, oh boy, that must've been exactly what that little boy needed to hear because he kicked it into high gear and made it into Maria's top 3, a coveted spot.

All the way to the top. A few years ago, I was dealing with this guy, Kerry. Kerry was such a thug, loved it. But Kerry was incredibly aggressive with his imperative statements in bed. I never got a break, was always getting direction, being told what to do and never getting so much of an ecstasy filled thank you. So why on earth should I give him one? One late night rendezvous, found me bouncing around the bed with him, while he loudly instructed me to go, "all the way to the top, now! All the way to the top!" I have no clue why men feel the need to repeat themselves, emphatically, especially when they're shouting, but I decided I wasn't doing what I was told for once. Instead, I plopped down on him and said, "yo, this is cool, but you yell at me one more f*cking time and it's going down." Apparently, Kerri loved being told off himself and he did one of the few flip moves I've seen in my hay day and set. it. off. (Jada Pinkett)

You did that boy. My friend Mai, has been with her boyfriend for years, they're obviously in a very comfortable place and during their love-making, there are few things they don't do, won't try. They both have pretty insane personalities, which makes for even more fun in the bedroom. One night, when they had just finished, were in the afterglows, Mai came out with, "You did that boy!" Her boyfriend turned, looked at her with a dubious expression and just shook his head at her antics. Then they went for round two.

Tell me you love me. I was dating a rather sensitive guy and one night, while we were drunkenly fornicating, he said, "Tell me you love me." But I didn't. And knowing this was such a buzzkill. There was no way he loved me either, though, no way, no matter how sensitive or artsy-fartsy he was. It just wasn't possible to love me after a mere month of dating. But here I was, being held in a vice grip and being asked again to profess my love for him. Instead I shhhed him and did something incredibly distracting to take his attention away from his love of me an instead placed it on his love of my nether regions. Everyone knows actions speak louder than words.

I know there's more, we had plenty. What are your favorites? An easy high five after a job well done? Lots of four letter words? Interesting sounds? Y'all know sex is my favorite topic. Gimme the highlights reel.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Dumb Thug

So, yes, I too read the Slim Thug "article" he "wrote" for his Vibe blog-why he was given a blog on Vibe, I'm still puzzled over, though. I realize many people are reacting all at once, but I couldn't even finish without writing my own take on the nonsense. I can't say I'm surprised by his comments about black women, because it seems all eyes are on us right now. We'll never get married, we want too much, our standards are too high. I don't know when mediocrity became the destination and extraordinary, a pit stop left behind, but unfortunately, I'm used to hearing the arguments. What stopped me dead in my tracks was this little tidbit of intelligence:

"I have a brother that dates a White woman and he always be f-cking with me about it saying, “Y’all gotta go through all that shit [but] my White woman is fine. She don’t give me no problems, she do whatever I say and y’all gotta do all that arguing and fighting and worry about all this other sh-t.” My girl is Black and White. I guess the half White in her is where she still cooks and do all the shit that I say, so we make it. She just takes care of me and I like that. She don’t be begging and I don’t gotta buy her all this crazy ass sh-t..."

Did he really just declare that what makes a good woman, well, good, is the fact that she does what he says? Is he talking about his dog? I'm so confused. I wasn't aware that we were supposed to do as we're told, "bow down" to our man, and submit to his every want and command. I thought we were supposed to support and stand by him, be there for him whether times are up or down. Not be vanilla, wet rags with no fire under us at all. Who wants to be with someone that doesn't challenge them? Make them work for each other verses lay down like a doormat while he tramples all over her. Are black men that lazy that they don't want a woman who throws down the gauntlet and stimulates them? A woman who knows how to balance standing for herself and something, while also holding him down in a way where he knows she's strong, but stronger for him. You can't tell me all black men are like that. I know too many that aren't and unlike Slim Thug, I don't make drastic generalizations based on a corner of the market.

It seems Slim Thug has been dealing with a particular kind of girl. If she's spending her rent on Louis Vuitton or maxing out credit cards, she's obviously just not right for you...or maybe anyone for that matter. Doesn't mean you have to wipe out an entire genre of women or make these grandiose and extremely stereotypical statements about all of us. I wouldn't want to date a guy who'd rather spend his loot on the new Jordan's than pay his light bill. Who would? But at the end of it all, what matters most is being with someone you're compatible with. And that doesn't mean the girl who says yes no matter what and hops up and down on one foot, while barking like a big dog.

Whatever his intentions are, he just wound up sounding stupid and not because of the horrible grammatical errors (please get an editor), but because his content is just so lame. It sounds unjustified, hypocritical, and biased based on a few groupies who may have rubbed him the wrong way. He so poetically explained how irresponsible blacks were with their money. He already shat on black women, is he now about to tell me he's never gone to the club and made it rain? Or ran off with his first big pay check and copped a huge chain to weigh his thick ass neck down? Dude, please sit all the way down.

And how does he know the lovely white girl at Columbia isn't just playing the part better than the others? He's been lucky enough to be in a position where people listen to him. He has a larger platform than the average guy in Indianapolis or something. He's in a place where he has an audience, I think-I'm not a huge Slim Thug fan, at his disposal. To use that platform to spew garbage into the masses is either a cheap shot at us or a silly attempt at getting some media attention. There's no such thing as bad publicity, supposedly, but black women have been getting bad press for far too long. Thanks for jumping on the bandwagon latched to our backs, Slim. Good news though, black women have been carrying everyone since the beginning of time and guess what, we'll continue to do so because we're dope like that. You can thank us later...and don't worry, you will.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

I Heart Male Bloggers, Like A LOT

Blogs are a crazy epidemic, spreading like an STD in the Jersey Shore house. It seriously seems everyone has a blog and it's no secret that the most popular ones involve relationships and dating. It's a topic people can talk about until the cows come home and every single person seems to have an opinion or advice to give. I have great respect for those who write these types of blogs, and not just because I write one, but because it's a tall order. A topic that has so many odds and ends, so many chances at offending, so many shots at inspiring and helping. And also because of the sheer volume of relationship/dating blogs out there. All that said, the male relationship blogs are way more popular.

The Millionaire Matchmaker Live event was a few nights ago and while I couldn't make it, I definitely got an ear full. There were quite a few non surprises. Like the ratio of men to women was apparently 372:1, which wasn't that much of a shocker considering the ratio of men to women in NYC is about that. There were tons of "how can I get a man" questions and lots of "I can do fine all by myself, these men are trifling" declarations, also not surprising. What was (mildly bc nothing really surprises me)surprising were the number of women who were ready to jump on the panel, snatch their favorite male blogger, and do them dirty in a bathroom stall...or right in front of everyone, whichever was easiest. Then they'd secretly pray to get written up on the blog.

I would love to say I'm shocked by how many groupies these male bloggers have accumulated, but I'm not. I don't just write a blog, I read them too and it never ceases to amaze me the enormous difference in comments/followers/viewership on male written blogs than female written blogs. Women are dying,salivating, foaming at the mouth to find out what's inside these guys' minds so they can nail their own version of them as soon as humanly possible. They hide out at work, reading Naked w/ Socks and Very Smart Brothas, the same way they devoured Hill Harper's piece of crap and read Steve Harvey's column every month in Essence. They take notes, flirt through the comments section. I can only imagine what they're emailing the writers themselves.

I received an email once asking me to explain the game of football to a female reader. I've talked about my favorite sport a lot on here and she wanted my aid in reeling in guys with her football expertise. It's no secret that men consume women's thoughts. Our life goal is to land one, duh! But the football girl is an example of what a woman is willing to do to change herself into what she thinks a man wants. So, when there are guys out there just being honest and blogging their thoughts on the topic, it's like Christmas for women. They are like moths to flames, R. Kelly to children, Heidi Montag to fame.

So, they hang on every word, taking it all in. It's like these bloggers are mini rock stars. The keypad is their guitar, the written words are their songs and their readers are out their shouting, "Pour some sugar on meeeee!" in white t-shirts soaked with their love and adoration. It's kinda funny. So when I hear that they were throwing their panties at some of these guys on the panel, I think it's hilarious. And I knew it was only a matter of time before a live event came around where they could jump from the other side of the screen and literally reach out and touch the man who's words they've tethered themselves to for months, years.

Look at the number of people who thought Sistatoldja was a raging feminist, put on earth to stir up trouble and argue with the black masses? But if she were Panama Jackson, going in on a similar rant, laced with wit and comedy, she'd have 672 comments and girls throwing their draws at her too! Instead, everyone was sort of shocked by how nice and girly and pretty she was, not to mention her eye make up. Yup heard about that too (great spies).

I'm not being a hater, I promise. I love blogs, I read them more than I should but, it's really really easy to play the part behind a computer screen, people. I'm not saying the words we all write aren't real or genuine, I'm just saying that it's a blog, not the second coming of Denzel-who I am totally not into, but most women throw their lives away for him-ask Sanaa. Just because you read Single Black Male, doesn't bring you any closer to actually meeting and dating the writer, or maybe it will if you're really persistent. Nor does it suddenly bring you the meaning of men and voila, you've got one! Look, I love boys just as much as the next, probably more. As I often joke, I kissed my first boy when I was nine, downhill since then, but I don't feel like we have a grip on things sometimes. I write my blog and love the compliments, but I care way more about the ones that involve my writing! I'm a writer! It's like me handing you a piece to read and after reading it, you say, "Wow, that's a pretty font." Huh? So, when women sit there, taking in these guys' words, their stories and think, "I want a man like that," or "I am the woman he's been looking for" I feel like they sort of miss a large part of the point. I don't know, but I do know that they're regular dudes, writing great content and living their lives in between. So calm down. No need for thirst, there's no drought. Take their words and enjoy them. Use them as a little fodder during the work day, but that's it! Just because a dude is writing it, doesn't make it the Bible. Although I'm sure if you asked them, they might say it is.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

The Real Gamble

This past weekend, me and some friends of mine rented a car and drove out to the beach. The city was rolling by us as we headed to the highway, which of course led to traffic. Summer weekends in NYC are similar to a ghost town. Everyone who has a house somewhere, goes there, and those who don't either rent, share, or vacate to wherever they can go, just to get out of the sweatbox that is Manhattan. Even rooftops become wildly utilized, affectionately known as Tar Beach. But we skipped Tar Beach that weekend and headed to the beach that actually has sand instead of asphalt and the sound of crashing waves instead of sirens and honking horns. But first, traffic. Always traffic. Of course the conversation turned to dating, men, sex, and the like. One of my friends has a baby with her live-in boyfriend, but their relationship wasn't always mushrooms and roses. Just like the traffic, there was gridlock in their relationship and a time where they lived apart and visitation and child support became the issues on the table instead of their love for one another.

We started joking around about the beach day being her get out of jail free card. How she was given a break to hang out with the girls, leaving the baby with his dad. I was in the middle of shouting, "I's free!" for the third time when she commented that she was just thankful they were in such a good place. That the situation didn't start off as they planned, but because they not only loved each other, but liked each other, they were able to make a family for their son. A happy one, at that.

It got me thinking. Forget loving or liking your baby's father or mother, how about liking the people you go to bed with period. As fundamentally simple as this statement seems, you'd be surprised by the number of unliked people who jump into each others pants quickly with something that looks like affection veiled over them. But it isn't. Think about the last person you slept with. Did you love them? Did you even like them? Could you imagine sharing a child with them for the rest of your life? Having them around for-ev-errrrrrr. I don't know about you, but when I thought about it that way, I almost threw up. Not because I'm not a baby gal, but because the last person I slept with drives me utterly insane. I barely liked him then, like him less now. I couldn't imagine being pregnant with his child or forcing myself to deal with the aftermath, a life raising a kid together or a life being pissed because he can't seem to step up and be a dad. But even with the guys I liked, hell, loved, I have yet to meet someone I'd want to see in the genes of my child every single day for the rest of my life.

And it goes both ways. I can't tell you the number of guys I know who have babies with women who are insane, crazy on a good day. They are tethered to these women whom they can't stand, because they "liked" them for a twenty minute window where the condom broke or they just decided to press their luck and raw dog it, screaming "no whammy, no whammy" with each pump. There's a reason the phrase "Baby Mama Drama" exists and why jokes are centered around the words "Baby Daddy." Despite all my antics, the traditional order of things is still good in my book. Boy meets girl, boy marries girl, boy and girl enjoy life, boy and girl have baby. Marriage and children add more layers to a relationship anyway, why give yourself more complication by skipping the marriage part and making a baby with someone you can barely stand when the lights are on? Everyone should take a minute and ask themselves, before dropping trow, "do I like him/her? Could I have a baby with him/her," because let's be honest, sex is lovely and feels grrrreat, but it's purpose is to procreate. If everyone truly gave that thought a quick review, there'd be farrrr less baby's mamas/daddies, STD's, and higher condom sales. Maybe even abstinence... at least that's the route I think about going when remembering the last guy I did the baby-maker with. Ugh...

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Beating a Dead Horse

It is so frustrating to give people the same advice over and over again. It's like they are purposely not listening. And I give great advice, but after a few go rounds on the same topic, I start to sound like a parrot repeating the same crap coming out my own mouth. So a few weeks ago, I had this same exact epiphany with a friend of mine who has been dating the same lame loser for months. Now let me be really really clear on why he's a bag full of used douche. He has no job. He has a child. He has an insane baby's mother. He is fat. He is ugly. He is however, funny if you catch him on the first sunday of the month. Sort of like the First Fruits of tithing; he doles it all out on that one day. So to summarize, you can see how the pros do not outweigh the cons. He should have been outta there long ago, but she keeps up with his shenanigans, hoping for some sort of divine intervention.

Meanwhile, while she's waiting for the second coming, I have to sit through endless conversations...wait scratch that, because a conversation would entail some sort of dialogue. Let's call them monologues, or even better, long as hell soliloquies complete with all the hemming and hawing possible. The other day she actually said he drives her crazy because he complains and whines all the time. That shit must be contagious because that's all she seems to do now, except it's always about him. She used to be a riot, used to not drive me up the wall sideways. Then she met this guy and suddenly she got all insecure and annoying. She started asking these inane questions, asking me to help her decode his tweets or the fact that his FB status said It's Complicated. Girl. I. Don't. Care. About. Him. I love her, well I like her a lot, but I am so tired of saying the same thing over and over which is this: Can you please stop bothering with someone who doesn't even remotely add to your net worth? It's like eating Long John Silver's when there's a Red Lobster across the street (for the record, I don't endorse either of those places, but those cheese biscuits from Red Lobster must have crack in them, yum). She is cute. She has a great career. She's hilarious and has great witty comebacks in some endless arsenal. She used to be my kinda gal, until the nerd bomber came around. I barely talk to her these days because I just don't want to talk about it anymore. When I do tell her my opinion, she gets defensive and swears she doesn't like him that much. I don't have time.

But why, oh why, do women do this? I'm guilty too, don't get me wrong. I've put in work on a situation that should've been dead and buried, but what gives? Are chicks that afraid of being alone? My friend swears she just likes the distraction. Girl, get an etch-a-sketch or something. They can put you out of commission for hours.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

The Daddy Issue

There are two kinds of men in this world and I've decided today that I'm not dating guys out of one of those categories anymore. What are the categories? Glad you asked. The categories are very simple, but unfortunately, the dividing line chops a chunk out of the dating world. You're probably still wondering what I'm talking about. Well here you go. The two kinds of men are: those with daddy issues and those without. I'm sure you can guess which one I'm blackballing. Now before you tell me how impossible this is, let me explain the theory and why I am signing up the way overweight celebrities are signing up for Jenny Craig.

In my long dating history, I've come to realize that dating a man who has unresolved issues with his father, is a recipe for disaster. I know it isn't his fault and I'm not saying that either. Saying that would be insensitive and would be tantamount to someone saying they wouldn't date me because I come from a divorced household. The truth is a little boy's first model of a man is his dad and if his dad is a piece of sh*t, he probably will be too, even if he tries to fight it. He may not be the same kind of sh*t, but whether it's a rhino's poop or a bird's poop, it's still poop. Let me be more serious. It's very unfortunate that so many men don't harbor the skills to be a proper father and I'm not just talking about geography. They can live in the house, be a seemingly perfect little family, and still have issues with their fathers.

In house battles.

My ex boyfriend came from a normal, well off, suburban home. His parents had great jobs and many degrees lining the walls of their office. They lived in a five bedroom house, complete with two sons and a mom who balanced work with cooking full-on, amazing meals, cleaning the house, and having cookies on the counter at all times. His dad was always putzing around in the garage, had gadgets and toys, but had the worst temper ever. He believed in raising men's men, he forced his homophobic and narrow-minded opinions on his sons and somehow raised little monsters, while simultaneously doing everything for them and not kicking their asses out at the proper age. My boyfriend's older brother and second wife and newborn child lived in his parents house for years and no one ever said, "Son don't you think it's time to move out." All this created a very odd dynamic in their family. You could see the lumps under the carpets of things left unsaid swept under there. In the beginning, they seemed fine and I loved my boyfriend, so it wasn't a major focus. But I remember my mom telling me to watch his relationship with and between his parents. She said I'd see how he would be with me. I listened and suddenly realized his father was a jerk on good days, an asshole on bad. He could be charming and funny and then suddenly flip to a patronizing and rude SOB. Then I started noticing the same temper in my boyfriend and the arguments they had with each other were always epic and ended with some sort of version of, "I'm never speaking to you again." Lovely. It became so apparent in our own relationship, it eventually broke us up.

The approval seeker (Dad isn't there).

Another issue between men and their fathers is the constant search for approval. If they aren't around, abandoned them when they were little, it's clear that the search usually manifests itself in the ongoing and endlessly tiring (for the women in their lives) search for the stopper that will plug that hole of longing. They search high and low for someone to love them like their daddy's did not, to make them feel worthy,to show them people can be trusted, and to help them feel complete. They usually come up lacking because no one can fill that hole but their pop, who, obviously, isn't up for the challenge.

The approval seeker (Dad is there).

Then there's the kid who grew up with a father who never seemed to appreciate anything his son did. He'd get an amazing three-pointer at his basketball game, his dad would remind him of the free throws he missed. Son would get into Dartmouth, dad would complain he didn't get into Harvard. There are a lot of fathers like this. The ones who set the bar so high, and maybe with good intentions, but wind up ostracizing their sons because the bar is too high. Never attainable. But little Jack doesn't realize that until he's laying on a couch in therapy at the age of thirty. After he's killed himself his whole life trying to be the best because his dad made him that way. And guess who's around at thirty? Not dad, but you, his girlfriend reaping all the rewards dad left behind.

The cheater/abuser.

This is probably one of the most popular daddy issues out there. Sadly, the number of boys growing up with philandering fathers or dads who beat up on their moms is high. I can't imagine growing up in an abusive household, but I can imagine growing up with a high powered father who had mistresses on the side. My mom told me that she realized it was time to kick my father out when she thought about the affect his being there, with that kind of behavior, would have on her children. She was raising daughters to believe it was okay for a man to cheat on his wife. Nope, you're outta here. I can only imagine what it's like on sons. In some weird, Freudian way, those little boys grow up to cheat on their girlfriends and wives, some consciously, some not. And on the other side of the fence, little boys are having to fight their fathers to protect their mothers, swear they'll never be like them and while a few do not, many wind up repeating the same behavior in some way shape or form with the later women in their lives.

You may disagree and that's fine too, but I think it's safe to say that the real root of the issue (insert soapbox) is that biologically making a kid doesn't make you a father, it's about being there for them, teaching them to throw a baseball, but also teaching them how to respect women and, on a whole, life. Teaching a boy to be a man is a task only another man can do and I think that's forgotten. So even if you don't feel like it, even if you don't think it matters, know that it does, know that they need you, not me (ie women), to be complete. They need you to show them how to stand up and take life lessons head on, to show them that being a real man is one of the hardest but most worthwhile jobs out there. So, in conclusion, I'm not coming near you with a twenty foot pole unless you grew up with a solid, dope ass TV-like dad, whom you idolize and want to be just like in all the best ways possible.

Damn, wiping out men with daddy issues wipes out virtually everyone...

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

The Good Time Girl

A guy friend of mine called me a good time girl a long time ago. At first, I was sort of pissed. I heard good time girl and immediately thought he meant the title on some ho sh*t and even though he tried diligently to dig his giant, size eleven foot out of his mouth, I couldn't get down with the terminology. Good time girl implies the chick who gets it it with whomever, whenever. Good time girl makes me think nothing positive, everything negative. Good time girl makes me think of Kat Stacks or Super Head. He swore he didn't mean it that way. I disagreed. I might've even stopped talking to him for about ten minutes, which is a long time in the grand scheme of me. Alas, I get over things quicker than some, so I forgave him, but made him buy my drinks for the rest of the night and promise to have my unborn/unwanted children.

But years later, I'm a little proud of being a good time girl. I no longer look at it with the negative connotation, obviously, otherwise this post would be about self-esteem or lacktherof. Look, I love beer and football, partying and cursing. I have a great time, so, fine, I'll beeee that. But make no mistake, I'm a girl. I shop, I giggle, I toss my hair, I love make up and manicures, and get my vadge waxed to high heaven. But I recently met a girl named Amanda who constantly made comments that put her in the same house as men. I'm sooo one of the guys. Seriously, I am totally a dude trapped in this cute body. Wait, what? So are you a transexual? I'm confused. Oh, no? You're just one of those girls that always feels the need to badly mask her horrible self-esteem by being identifying with men in an attempt to get all the guys to say something like, "Wow, this girl is soooo cool. I'm gonna put a giant piece of bling on it and make her the hottest chick in the game, wearing my chain." No.

Besides, it turned out Amanda was sleeping with a married man, which is so unlady-like. But back to the point.

See as cute as these girls think this idea is, they are horribly wrong. In fact, it's a plan that backfires so badly and in so many ways, I feel it's absolutely necessary to do a small bullet/organized list as to why. You're lucky I'm not computer savvy and can't insert a damn PowerPoint presentation into this blog.

I can drink any guy under the table.

Right, but why would you want to? For the most part, men are larger and stronger than women. Unless, of course, you're one of those gross T-Rex chicks pumping iron and sipping on a steroid smoothie at the gym. Otherwise, it's not rocket science that men can consume more liquor than women. So this is lose/lose for a girl because if you happen to be one of those girls that can drink a dude under the table, you need to hit up your nearest AA meeting at your closest YMCA. And if you aren't and wind up having to put your liquor where you big ass mouth is, you're gonna be the sloppy drunk girl at the bar and your plan will be ruined by barf in your hair and smeared mascara down your cheeks.

I know more about sports than any of you guys.

You don't. Just don't bother. I've been watching football since I could see straight and I still wouldn't ever utter those words. You just look silly. By natural selection, women would rather watch Keeping Up With The Kardashians than watch an endless loop of Sportscenter, which we all know men do on a complete and utter regular basis. I watch one, maybe two go rounds, tag that with a little 1st and 10 and PTI during football season, but never would I go out of my way to say I'm the second coming of Adam Schefter because I'm not. And I'm okay with that. My firm sense of self allows me that little nugget of gold. However, when girls try to stand up to a dude when it comes to sports knowledge, they usually end up looking dumb. Silly if they're lucky. Most guys somehow happen to know every minute detail from the NHL to whatever the damn bowling league is. They probably know who won the International Ping Pong tournament last year. Let it go. They can have that one.

I just connect so much better with guys. Girls are so lame.

Girls are silly, gossipy, demented, and sensitive, but we are a f*cking riot. To diss us and claim that you only get along with guys is just sad. I stand by the fact that every girl needs a group of close girlfriends the same way a dude needs a few homies. The other day, my friends and I were talking about some girl who we decided had zero social graces. Someone piped in and said, "That girl needed to pledge a sorority so someone could help her ass out." Yes. In other words, she needed some chicks in her life on the quick. See, when you don't have any girls to have your back, you're usually on your own 'cause the dudes don't have your back either. Although they may have your front...and you may not get that until later.

I have sex like a guy.

I think this speaks for itself. I sincerely hope you don't otherwise he's gonna be pretty pissed when he unwraps the package later on that night. But in the event that I'm speaking to Gary Coleman and this is completely over your head (might've been too soon), know this: I don't care how cute you might think it is to compare yourself sexually to a man, but it isn't. Keep that to yourself because there isn't a guy out there who's gonna say it's cool when he says his number is 172 and you try to high-five him and cheer, "Awesome! I'm just ahead of you at 174!" Ain't goin down, honey, sorry. It's a ridiculous stereotype which I hate too, but it's been there since everyone hated on Mary Magdalene for being a prostitute, so you might as well get used to it. Besides, if he wanted to have sex like a guy, he'd probably f*ck himself. Trust me, they're working on that one.

In summary, just be a girl. 'Cause some boys like girls and the rest like boys who act like girls anyway, so you might as well act like one too. Win, muthafriggin, win.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins