A box of these things has 110 calories.

Why do they exist? They’re disgusting and bad for your teeth.

I can’t stop eating them! Looking forward to Feb 15th when they will be banished for a year.

Can we talk a bit about the homothugs?
Shawty wanna thug…
So Saturday night I was out at this bar in the East Village celebrating a friend’s birthday. If you don’t know NYC, you may not know that the East Village is not necessarily where the folks who live in Harlem hang out. This particular bar was fascinating because every half hour the vibe kept changing. When we first got there it seemed like everyone was really tall. Like, is it tall night at the bar? And then it was kinda Euro, then it was a bunch of models, then it was other things. So it was a bit of a shape shifter. That is one of the coolest things about NY.

http://www.keybar.com
The most fascinating vibe running through there was evidenced by these two big brothers sucking face at the bar. Openly. Right at the end right there where you see the picture of the lit matches in the photo above. Now this is totally fine with me but these dudes didn’t look like they would be doing that at home. Like, back uptown in the Bronx or Harlem home or out in Brooklyn or Queens home. One of them was this hard looking bald guy with a mink jacket and big diamond earrings. Not in like a fabulous snap snap RuPaul gay way but in a drug dealer on the corner pushing the Range Rover with the dope rims kind of way. His boyfriend, who was actually much bigger but clearly the more submissive of the two based on their body language and the way Thug Life had his hand around his neck, was equally intimidating and um….butch. Yeah. Butch is the word I guess. Anyway I’d bet my bonus they both have women at home. Sike I’m playin, this is a recession! I’m putting that check underneath the mattress, I may never get another the way they’re talking in Washington! Why My Boo (=Obama) gotta play me like that? But I digress.

You better work!
So there was this little room in the back of the bar where they and their friends had posted up. For the next couple of hours they and a few other thuggish looking brothers passed in and out of the spot along with several other folks who looked pretty interesting. I had a little fun trying to call top vs bottom. Then they dissipated and I personally dissipated too because I just can’t pull ragers like I used to. In fact the whole next day was a wrap, didn’t nothin get done. *sigh*

Back to the homothug thing…there are openly gay homo thugs like my hairdresser. He’s actually not a thug at all but he wears a lot of urban wear like Enyce and baseball caps and whatnot and is very much a top. His boyfriend is very flamboyant, kinda pretty and model-like. In fact his boyfriend is fine in that, “Damn! Why he gotta be gay?” kind of way. Has this sort of odd energy and appeal like Gene Anthony Ray, très sexy. I knew my hairdresser was gay right away but everyone who meets him apparently doesn’t. That’s because I have the rugged gaydar skills. But he’s out anyway, because he’s a real man and not a punk. Plus I guess being a hairdresser it’s a bit easier to be out at work.

Remember Leroy?
Then there are the homo thugs (and of course this isn’t limited to men of color – think of Governor McGreevey and that preacher out in the middle of the country somewhere who was on that HBO documentary about Jesus right before he got busted) who are MSM – men who have s@x with men – but won’t admit they’re gay, and they’re responsible for spreading these deadly cooties to sisters. I won’t preach because I want to keep it light, but let’s review some warning signs because who needs those kind of problems? It’s time to tune your gaydar ladies!!!! Here are some signs your man may be gay whether he is thugged out or not, or brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian. Or white:
1) He’s real extra homophobic. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” – from Hamlet by William Shakespeare
2) He has a strong opinion about what you wear, or likes to shop for your clothes. Or he wants to decorate the crib and does a better job than you. Or he knows how to properly wrap gifts and the etiquette around giving them.
3) He has secretive phone conversations or late night texts and you pick up the phone to listen or check his texts or whatever your surveillance method is, and the person on the other end is a dude.
4) He knows the lyrics to the new Beyoncé joint. Or in extreme cases, Britney.
5) If you live in NY, and he’s a r&b/hip hop type of brother, he likes to hang out in the East Village. In Miami this would be Club Boi…but I think the cat is outta the bag with that one by now. Anyway they post candid crowd shots on their website so check it out if you’re suspicious at www.clubboi.com. Or a Flex club in Atlanta, LA, Cleveland, Columbus, New Orleans, Phoenix or Miami. For more info see www.flexbaths.com. Or in Oakland, Cabel’s Reef or Rimshot.
6) He gets in arguments with and stops speaking to his friends sometimes. This is extraordinarily gay behavior in a man implying an intimacy with said friends that he ought to only share with you and his female side piece.
7) He spends more time getting ready to go out with his boys than he does when he’s taking you out. And sometimes smells of cologne or after shave that he doesn’t own.
8) He only gets excited about relations with you when something really über freaky is involved, otherwise he may not show up for the game. And blames you for it.
9) He has spent a significant amount of time in jail and keeps in touch with his former fellow inmates. Probably a good idea to avoid dating ex cons generally, if you can help it.
10) You feel it in your gut.

I couldn’t list all the signs here but you get my drift. If you can think of more add a comment below. No one is served by any woman staying with some dude who’s in the closet. What can we do about it? Let’s make it ok for the men in our families to be gay and maybe we can coax these brothers out of the closet. It’ll be better for everybody. Ok, soap box moment over.
By the way, when Thug Life stepped out of the bar for the last time he checked me out hard including eye contact. For real y’all. Now that’s just greedy.

Ouch! That unemployment figure was ugly. And the revision downward even moreso. What surprises me is how the economists can’t figure out that we’re effed…and get the estimate right. Like, duh. Now the news is gonna talk about this all day and the market will be down and it’ll just suck. So much unpleasantness, and on a Friday! And it’s real extra cold outside too? I need a drink and it’s not even 9am yet.
Anyway on to more pleasant things. I arrived home last night after my personal trainer tried to kill me. She has a mandate to return my bum to its former glory so if that’s what it takes I guess I have to deal with it. Just undoing the damage of the “good life” (=working 12 hours a day starting at 5:30am). After the attempted murder at Equinox I plopped exhaustedly on the couch and was greeted by a DVR full of goodies last night. When I’m not off gallivanting in Manhattan and around the world having adventures to write about for your entertainment, I have some of my happiest moments at home on my couch with my DVR, remote in hand. Can we have a moment of silence for the DVR? Who invented this contraption? They deserve a Nobel Prize. Although there is probably some correlation between my bum situation and my DVR fixation…hmmmm.

Last night I burned through Ugly Betty, Grey’s Anatomy, 9021

0 and 30 Rock all in the space of like two hours. There were so many goodies last night I could hardly stand it. 30 Rock was straight comedy with the new interns. Tina Fey is a genius, I worship her. Especially that movie Mean Girls whom I am convinced I know. I’m not going to say from where because this blog is not about a vendetta. Positive energy people, let’s keep it positive! But let’s just say, it wasn’t high school. I’m cool with our Prom Queen to this day. 🙂 I’m shouting her out right now, she knows who she is and she better come see me in NYC as soon as the weather breaks! Anyway you gotta watch 30 Rock. Tracy Morgan is so funny I would have his babies even though I already know they’d be ugly because no amount of pretty is enough to make up for all he got goin’ on.

On Ugly Betty…I love those b$%ches Amanda and Marc. They are so fierce! Ugly Betty is all about the fierceness. I also like they now have Lauren Velez on the show. I know a secret about her but I don’t think I can write it here…but let’s just say I used to have this friend who hung out with her once and came back from that trip with a story to tell! That show is just brilliant through and through but don’t Betty look like her breath stink? All that metal gotta carry a lotta germs. Amanda mentioned it last night.

Then Grey’s Anatomy managed not to bore me. There were no heavy handed platitudes, no grand breathless speeches last night. The actors must love getting to deliver all those monologues. Oh oops…Lexi had one. I forgot. But it wasn’t too bad. It was also kinda cool to see Owen Hunt kirk out like that. Although I’m disturbed by his Cro Magnon brow…it just feels so aggressive and I would be scared if I saw that coming at me in the middle of the night. Reminds me of…

And 90210. Go Adriana putting yourself on blast like that – even though it was a bit narcissistic but whatevs. And go Rhonda too! I like that the nerd girl has something up her sleeve. Well played. I’m all about the sympathy trade…whatever it takes to get what you want girlfriend, I am not mad atcha!
Ok I gotta get back to work now…I got moved to a new spot on the trading floor and now I have three screens (from two) which is AMAZING and I LOVE it because now I just have one devoted to the Launchpad all day long, but it is higher beta too, just more opportunity to get busted doing something I ought not to be doing on the clock. I usually write these things at home but like I said, that employment number got me all depressed so thought I’d check in real real quick.
Adventures planned for this weekend so hopefully I’ll have some juicy hump day goodies for ya Wednesday. And check back in on Sunday, I got a story from the vault in the queue you may like. Ta!

So the Steelers won the Super Bowl for the 6th time. That’s a good look. The coach is a young brother running things too, kinda like President Obama is a young brother running things. This is good. Although in our new post racial world that I am hopeful we will create together, this ideally will matter less and less. Eventually. But it still kind of matters I think. Doesn’t he kinda look like Omar Epps though?

However I was rooting for the Cardinals for their underdog story, Kurt Warner’s former shelf stocking self and their lovely red and white uniforms. Not to mention the big play maker in the game, Santonio Holmes, went to the OSU and since I went to another midwestern school that has an INTENSE rivalry with the OSU (and in spite of their own lovely red and white uniforms) I am structurally incapable of rooting for any OSU alums.

But my hat’s off to the Steelers, it was a great game – the only one I watched all season of course despite growing up on football like most Americans – and I’m going to sleep feeling warm and fuzzy because I just saw a bunch of people give their very best and fight the good fight. But first I gotta wait for my heart rate to go down because that was all quite intense at the end there. I wonder if that counts as doing cardio?

I’m not the groupie type in any way shape or form. Not physically, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually, psychologically, philosophically – you get the point. But I can’t help but tell this tale of my brush with the lifestyle because it was just too funny. During this brush I did have a moment where I considered getting a good weave, some contacts and some enhancements to gain entree into the world. Sike I’m just playin’, I NEVER would sign up for that life if I had to wear all that fake mess. But if I could get it naturally…who knows?

So back in the day I had to go on this business trip to Orlando and a friend of mine happened to be there on business too. I went a day early to have dinner with her and a slumber party in her hotel. After dropping my stuff off we were waiting for the valet to bring the car around to go out and this hot guy struck up a conversation with me. He was cute and about 6’1″, so I had no idea that he was a ball player at first. Turns out his team was in town to play the Orlando Magic and he was just out and about. I must say, the confidence that comes with playing in the NBA is quite attractive – he just walked up to both of us like, “what y’all doin'” and totally met us at the wine bar where we told him we’d be like ten minutes later. Just invited himself along as though he was always welcome and made himself right at home with us.

The three of us each had a glass of wine and like, a slice of pizza at the wine bar and at the end he put 20 bux down on something like a 30 or 40 bux check. I thought that was interesting, and respected that he wasn’t trying to throw his money around like a big man on campus. Today I probably would not feel the same about that though. He was sooooo smart and charming and cute! At this point he had been in the NBA over 10 years and had been a solid player but plagued by injuries. So, even though he had his own character in a big time video game, he hadn’t reached Charles Barkley or Michael Jordan status or anything like that. I kind of liked this about him, because he had a humility that went with all the cockiness. Of course he had a kid but he was single, and I found myself having a little fantasy about what could be. Could I be a baller’s wife? Would I fit into his world? What would his kid think of me? 
I was so dumb.
So anyway we all went back to the hotel and the three of us were in the elevator:

Baller: What floor are you guys on?

Friend: 12.

Baller: I’m on 9.

Me: Cool.

Baller: I should probably walk you guys to your room so you get there safely.

Me: Good idea.

Friend: [eyes rolling]

We arrived back at the room and my friend proceeded to take off her makeup and put on her pjs in the bathroom. The Baller and I chatted in the bedroom, with him sprawled casually across one of the beds. I was intrigued but not overly tempted. After all, everyone knows ballers have cooties and they don’t call the next day. You either get pregnant or don’t give it up. I was young but not that naive.

Baller: So how long are you in town?

Me: About three days. What about you?

Baller: We leave tomorrow after the game.

Me: Cool.[awkward silence]

Me: I want some chocolate, I wonder if the mini bar has any Snickers.

Baller: You don’t need a Snickers, you got all this fine chocolate right here.

HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I don’t know what possessed me to say that about chocolate. Back in the day I used to have a lot of trouble with my mouth filter and things came straight out of my brain through my lips unchecked. It occasionally still happens and when it does, it’s always the most mundane or bizarre random thought that has popped into my head involuntarily. For some reason the awkward silence with the Baller made my mind wander and I got hungry for a Snickers. Go figure.

But really what’s funny here is clearly his response. And the fact that he thought I would hook up with him that night! Like go upstairs to his room with him and get busy. AS IF! 

Me: Sorry buddy, I’m not that kind of girl, and it’s late. 

Baller: Really?

Me: Yeah, but I’d love to talk to you again.

So we exchanged numbers, he left, and I thought that may be it. But it wasn’t. I called him a few days before his next team game in my home town, a couple weeks later, and do you know he called me back FROM THE TEAM PLANE?!?!?! Now I was starstruck and ready to go along with his program.
I picked him up from his hotel in my very uncool American made sedan style automatic transmission company car. Hey, it was free! I sold my sleek stick shift ride when I got that gig. If I had true groupie instincts I would have rented something hot and told him mine was in the shop. I took him to a poetry reading (they were very en vogue at the time) and to a club afterwards. At the poetry reading we shared a plate of wings and he preferred the flat part while I like the drumstick part. It was a match made in heaven.
Baller also brought out the naughty girl in me. He encouraged me to park the aforementioned uncool car in the ALLEY! And he decided in the middle of the date he didn’t like his outfit so we went shopping and he changed clothes. When he stripped in the dressing room I almost fainted. Rays of light emanated from his biceps and his washboard abs. In fact, typing this all these years later, my heart skips thinking about that moment. 

When we walked up to the door of the club the girl at the velvet rope immediately let us through and whispered in my ear, “You go girl.” WTF??? And we went immediately up to the VIP area where I clearly stuck out like a sore thumb. I was so NOT ready for the big time. I was wearing Gap jeans and some Nine West shoes and carrying a cheap bag. *sigh*

You see, this is before I discovered Seven for All Mankind (and other even more serious designer jeans) and the wonders they do for the bootie. In fact I was in the dark about lots of things. I had very recently ended a really long, serious relationship and I was still frumpy and dumpy the way you sometimes get when you’ve been boo’d up for several years. I needed a makeover something awful so really it’s a miracle this guy even took a look. 

Anyway he lost interest when I wouldn’t give him any and I mentioned one too many times how he probably had lots of girls, being in the NBA. Or maybe because I was a corny ass bama? It’s possible he may have sincerely wanted to get to know me. Eh, probably not. He retired not long thereafter and I am sure, lives in some big house someplace warm with a savvy woman curled up by his side every night. But I get to live my fabulous life too, and I don’t worry about any groupies trying to take my man. So it all worked out!