Side Orders: The Facebook fan club.

Peace.  A few weeks ago, I posted a list detailing a few of my turnoffs.  I talked about cigarettes.  I talked about desperate chicks, and women who operate their dating lives by a strict set of rules.  I even talked about idolizers (as I did here and again here).  But one thing I did not mention was the Facebook celebrity.  The superstar, rather, who proudly owns and operates a variety of fan clubs.  Not fan pages.  I mean legitimate fan clubs.

What’s a Facebook superstar, or…fan club or whatever?  And why is she, or, whoever, such a turnoff?

First, let me explain that she (or he in some cases, but for the sake of this blog and the fact that I’m a dude, I’ll stick with she) isn’t so much a turnoff as is she someone with whom I keep a maintainable distance.  Far enough away to keep from getting myself into trouble, but just close enough to keep a vested interest because she’s actually quite entertaining.  Of course, she’s always someone I meet in real life and I’m usually the one to request her.  Naturally so, because she’s bad.  After waiting for a day or two or five, I’m notified of her acceptance and granted access to see her photos.  Yeah, she got some pertinent info and what not, but I’m just looking at the photos.  And what do I see when looking at the photos…

Weekly Promotion: 7 month summer and the O St Mansion.

Peace.  It’s starting to warm up and it feels so good.  I know the weather here has been at best inconsistent.  But it’s warm enough for folks to rid themselves of their winter boos and their clothes and start enjoying what can only be described as summertime in Washington DC.  Oh, it’s not yet summer?  It’s still spring?  It appears you’re right. But to me, really, summertime is more the social vibe that you experience from mid-March through October.  Yeah, you got your peek months in June, July and August when all the grad school students are on the official summer break.  But they get ghost on folks for the rest of the year so nobody gives a fµck about them anyway.  Relax.  I’m just joking.  If you can’t tell, I’m still on extra-snark mode this week and it doesn’t sound like that’s changing anytime soon.

Two for Tuesday: More on exes. More on claims.

Peace.  While I typically try to answer related questions on my Two for Tuesday, it doesn’t always work out that way.  I promised a friend I’d respond to her question this week that I originally intended to address last week, and I haven’t received any other questions pertaining to exes.  So instead, I’m also going to answer a question that was asked about my latest Side Order that dealt with the issue of “dibs” versus “claims”.  But before I get into tackling either, let me first tell you that the Side Orders are never to be taken too serious.  They’re mainly tongue-in-cheek remarks of mine I write to fill my extra-snark quota for the week.  You can take them to heart if you want, but, it’s probably better to just take them for jokes and spaghetti.

And with that, to the questions we go.

“I dated a guy several years ago and it got to the point we were talking about marriage and all that.  He ended up cheating on me with at least two different women during the course of our relationship, so I cut off all ties.  But for the last three years he has been relentlessly trying to get back with me, saying he’s ‘changed and ready to settle down’ and blah, blah, blah.  Is a guy like that worth taking a chance on?  Or would he ever be able to be faithful to that girl when he’s so used to cheating on her?”

Own your criticism. Be proud of who you are.

I’m an åsshole.  Some who know me know exactly what I’m talking about.  Some who know me have no idea what I’m talking about.  The former usually laugh or cosign or groan when they hear this comment, because they’re often the ones making it.  The latter, however, always come to my defense and try to assure me that I am indeed a good person.  But what the latter folk don’t understand is that one, I’m not asking for sympathy nor am I asking for someone to placate my ego.  Two, being an åsshole and being a good person are entirely autonomous of one another.  And three, I willingly admit to being an åsshole because I recognize it is a very real part of who I am.  And I’m proud of it.

While I do not intend to detail the intricacies of my åssholeish tendencies, it is necessary for me to paint a broad stroke of what such behavior might look like in order to help illustrate my greater point.  Simply put, I can be rather insensitive with the sensitivities of others.  I’m not talking about deaths in the family or illnesses or an unjust break up, but more so the choices people make and their complaints I hear after they make them.  More importantly, I’m often insensitive to outspoken opinions, which is actually quite ironic given that the very nature of that concept is oxymoronic.

I’m confused.

Naturally.  You must be hungry.  Don’t be bashful.  You can take the last piece of chicken.  I’m a jerk but I ain’t selfish.

Side Orders: I call dibs. You make claims.

Peace.  You know the difference between men and women?  Men call dibs.  Women call claims.  And if you can’t tell the difference between the two terms, the former can last anywhere from 5 to 55 seconds or however long it takes for the dib caller to get shot down, and the latter essentially lasts for life.  Or.  Until women decide they no longer wish to remain friends.  Still confused?

Yes’huh…

Weekly Promotion: Black Weblog Awards and Friends

Peace.  If you read my two previous entries from this week, you’ll notice that I placed little ads at the top of each post asking for you to nominate me for the Black Weblog Awards…if you so choose.  Now, I’m clearly new to the whole blogging thing, and so I’m not sure which categories would fit most appropriately other than Best New Blog.  However, there were a few that seemed a decent match and not just for me, but for my fellow friends who blog as well.  So I figured that while I could promote another event or venue for this week, why not just spend some time to give props to my friends and to give props to myself as well.

Two for Tuesday: The ex game.

Peace.  Before I get started, I’d just like to remind the good readers of Biscuits and Gravy to nominate me (if you feel so inclined) for the Black Weblog Awards.  Now that we got that out the way, I’ve got two somewhat related questions that deal with exes.  Assuming you’ve been in at least one relationship, you’ve probably had issues with at least one ex.  So, I’ll do my best to offer my perspective.  And here we go.

“Can you get back with an ex?”

Something special. Not someone special.

NOTE:  I’ve just been informed about the Black Weblog Awards.  If you think I’m worthy of a nomination, please help a brother out and nominate me for whichever categories you see fit.  It’d be much appreciated and what not, so thanks ahead of time and thanks for reading.

I recently caught up with a friend who’s spent the last two years in New York.  Big city life.  She loves it.  Well, sorta kinda.  She was all excited about getting accepted into her fashion program, and deservedly so considering how talented she is.  What with all the big name designers, retailers, and trendsetters, the Big Apple made sense.  But now that she’s done with school and actually has time to socialize, she’s become a bit downtrodden due to the lack of men.  Hmph.  No testosterone in New York City…really? 

“It’s not so much that there aren’t any guys.  There are plenty of guys.  Good guys, too.  It’s just that none of them are interesting.”

“Interesting how?  What exactly are you looking for?”

*Sigh*  “I’m just looking for someone special.”

I see.  And that’s the problem right there.

Cornbread?

Nah.  Not the cornbread.  Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.  Matter fact, if you could be so kind…

Side Orders: The phantom ringtone.

Peace.  So I went to the Wednesday Night Verses I mentioned yesterday and was treated to a surprise when Jaz got up to perform “Sister Quality” and…wait, hold on.  Phone’s ringing…

*Reaches in pocket for BlackBerry only to notice the phone is in fact not ringing, and the little red-alert-thingie isn’t even flashing*

Weekly Promotion: Wednesday Night Verses at Bohemian Caverns

Peace.  I’m not a big fan of spoken word or open mics or poetry slams.  Part of the reason is because people always assume I am.  And because I’m not, and because people always assume the opposite, sometimes I wonder if my disinterest is compounded by this rather unfortunate combination of irritations.  But then I’m reminded every time I’m dragged out to one of these events why I dislike them so.  It’s the scene.  It’s the art, or lack thereof.  It’s the de facto “cool” thing to do.  Everybody thinks he or she is a poet, and everybody has something to say, and everybody thinks it somehow makes ‘em soulful to listen and more importantly, be seen.

Spare me.  Ya’ll as clear as glass.

Two for Tuesday: A woman's pursuit.

Peace.

“No biscuits today?  But what am I gonna eat for breakfast?  You okay?”

I am okay.  Thank you.  The above was a question a friend asked after reading me tweet that I had no biscuits for Monday.  It’s not that I didn’t have anything to write about.  I did.  It’s just that given all of the things that happened to me last week, I probably wasn’t in a mentally sound position to address them candidly without being too visceral.  And so I wanted to do the responsible thing and just wait.

For what?

Hell if I know.  But I’m here today to offer my perspective on the issue of women pursuing men.  Similar to last week, I had two readers submit related questions, and so I figured I’d include them both in today’s Two for Tuesday.

Side Orders: Caught staring. The male bonding moment.

Peace.  I love dudes.  Seriously, I do.  Especially when we’re all in common accord about a fine woman.  You know what I’m talking about.  When the group of fellas are standing around shootin’ the shït and a bad chick with a mean figure walks past.  Conversation stops.  Eyes fixate.  Dude with his back turned astutely reads the faces of his mans before him and quickly 180s (or subtly if he has any kind of cool to him but fµck it, everybody else is already staring) to observe the fine dime feline responsible for this temporal paralysis.  Mmm.

Weekly Promotion: Drummers Circle + Femi Kuti

Peace.  Because it’s finally deciding to warm up (I think), I figured it’s time to tell you about the Drummers Circle.  Many of you have probably heard of it and even been there.  And that’s cool.  But it’s worth it for me to share it here because for those of you who haven’t, I feel like it’s a treat.  The first thing that everybody says once they go for the first time is, “whoa, I didn’t even know there was anything like this in DC.”  And whether or not it’s your groove, you should check it out at least once if you live in the area.

Every Sunday during the warmer months of the year, from about March through October or so, a group of drummers conglomerate themselves in Malcolm X (Meridian Hill) Park and start beating away at those djembes and congas.  All are welcome, and anyone with a drum can join in the rhythm.  People from all backgrounds come out to dance, watch, listen, tight rope walk, run around, or just chill and lay out on the grass.  Now, I won’t lie to you, it’s not the same as it used to be when I first frequented a few years back.  It’s, a little watered down I should say.  But it’s still dope and I still like to check it out if and when I’m in town on Sundays.  It’s just a real cool groove.

Two for Tuesday: More on platonic relationships.

Peace.  I’ve been getting a few side questions recently.  They’re mostly about the blogs but I’ve also been asked for my take on some other issues.  For now, I’m going to address any inquiries I receive on Tuesday.  And as the title suggests, I’ll be posting two responses at a time.  However, I can only offer my opinions to questions I’m asked, and so there maybe some weeks when I don’t post a Tuesday biscuit.  If you like what you read and want to avoid any such lapse, please feel free to send any questions you have here.

Both of the questions I’m answering today are in reference to last week’s blog about platonic relationships.

“…it’s clear that the voice of the post is that of a single young adult.  Hence the motives listed.  Now if he actually meets someone and they become boyfriend and girlfriend, I would think the desire to seek platonic female friends would change.  Those friendships that he already have going into the relationship are fine but what would be the purpose of those made once in the relationship?  And I mean someone he actually would consider a “friend” and not just an associate.”

Cigarettes and other turnoffs.

I’d venture to say that 99% of the nonsmoking population find cigarettes to be utterly repugnant.  I’m not judging those who partake, please enjoy your habits responsibly and don’t let me stop you.  I merely point this out because so many of the women I find attractive become unattractive upon me discovering that they smoke.  Who am I talking about?  But of course, Ethiopians and Eritreans.  Damn, they fine.  But quite a few can be spotted with the stick of cancer in hand exhaling black from the lung and at the moment they do this, instantly go from dime to nickel and there is no reappraisal.  They’re good people, indeed.  But just not for me.  Not even the casual smoker.  No way.  No how.  No exceptions*.

Dag, Benge.  Why you mad?

Ugh.  I’m still waiting on my food.  Them fries look good, tho…