Kinda Sorta Famous

in pursuit of life, love, and the opportunity to be…

bartender! i’ll have one of those cute, sweet, colorful drinks with the umbrella and cherries!

Heterosexual Male Friendly?

Disclaimer: I am not an alcoholic.

Am I the only person who pays attention to what a man drinks? Before yall gang up on me, let me say this, there are a few people who are not under my personal scrutiny. This includes: married men, homosexual or bisexual men, and male friends that I have no interest in.

But for those that I go out on dates with or have a romantic interest in, I pay attention to what they drink.

I mean ladies, say you are on a date and the waiter takes your drink order. You order a Captain and Sprite. He orders a Piña Colada. WTF? Wouldn’t you raise your eyebrow? I mean what kinda man orders a Piña Colada and drinks it in public? (If you’re on a beach in the Carribean, that doesn’t count.)

And gentlemen, don’t even start. I’ve been out a couple time and ordered a Heineken instead of the cute little drink that was on the cover of the drink menu. I got a couple of raised eyebrows. One dude even had the nerve to say, “You should drink champagne, not beer.” He was so wack. Nonetheless, I try not to spring the whole “beer thing” right away. Apparently, it’s not “ladylike”. LOL

So since a lot of you want to tell us women what is “ladylike” and what is not, let me help some of you assholes gentlemen out. Here are my 3 tips to ordering a drink when out on a date.

1. Skip the fruit. If it comes garnished anyways, feed it to me. (That’s sexy!) Or throw it off of your drink and to the floor, then stomp it with great disdain. Then scream ARRRRRGGGHHHHH! FRUIT! (Shows your aggressive side. Plus it would be funny as fuck!)

2. Keep it simple. Here’s the formula: “I’ll have a {insert liquor} and {insert 1 optional mixer}.” It is always appropriate to order beer or wine.

3. Sip, don’t gulp. I’m surprised I even have to say this! This reminds me of when I invited “Jigga” over for a glass of wine. (See my Older=Better blog.) Now I knew he wasn’t the most refined individual so I simply asked him, Red or White? He said Red, and then I witnessed the the race to the bottom of the wine glass. I sat there in shock and disbelief. If it doesn’t come in a 2oz glass, you do not “take it to the head.”

Let this be a lesson to you ladies, what a man drinks says alot about who he really is.

Seriously. Marinate on that.

Enough of my truths thoughts.

What are yours?


May 16, 2008 Posted by | night life, relationship crap, the dating game | , , , , | 3 Comments

bittersweet poetry

Okay, so as most of you know, I’ve relocated to Las Vegas and it’s been almost 3 months now.

And I must say, it’s cool here, so far. I mean I like the sunny weather and there is alot to do. I guess the problem is finding people to do it with. I’ve found a few new friends though. It’s hard to find the young, black professional crowd, but I’m NOT giving up!

So me and my friends attend a poetry night that happens every 1st and 3rd Saturday. It’s at a cool lil spot with over priced food and drinks, but a cool lil spot nonetheless. I remember going for the first time and thinking “Dang! This is where everybody hidin!” However, I learned quickly that it really wasn’t about the scene so much as it was the poets. I mean they were REALLY GOOD. I knew I’d be a regular after that.

But there is a problem. See before the poets come on, they got this ummmm… comedian. At first I was like… oh ok… like 2 types of entertainment in one. That’s different. But after several weeks in attendance and hearing the same 10 jokes each time, I’ve outgrown it.

Like, how do you listen to a deep poem that makes you think and then , at the end, Sandman Sam deebos your thoughts with a lame joke about Prince? Or worse, about the words that left the lips of the last performer.

Maybe I’m salty. Last night I arrive late (thinking I’d missed the appetizer of jokes) and ready for the entree of passionate metaphors about life, racism, and America.

So anyways… I’m all late at the door and the scene went a lil something like this:

Comedian: Oooohhh…. Who we got at the door? Oh ok!
Me: *looking beside me to see who he talking to, yet there was no one there*
Comedian: Ok I see you. Heeeeyyyy!
Me: *smiles and waves hand*
Comedian: NOT YOU!
Me: *As I look behind me and see the “other” female he was speaking of*
(I almost forgot I was in the land of fake boobs, hair, and personalities. Why is it that everybody wanna be black but they don’t wanna BE black. But that’s a rant for another day.)

After that I sorta tuned him out cause I was asking the lady why I had to pay 10 dollars this week as opposed to the usual 6. But I heard his Color Purple jokes shortly after. Not sure what he said but I know it was in reference to me or probably my hair or whatever.

So yea… I could be salty. Or maybe I just wasn’t in a good mood to begin with and the reason I went to poetry was to uplift my spirits. And this rerun, azz wanna crack on me as soon as I walk through the door. Don’t do me. I was already mad about the fee increase. You know how some of us let that shyt ruin ya whole night.

Anyways, Imma let it go. I’m debating whether or not I should go back. I probably will for the poetry, definitely not the jokes.

September 17, 2007 Posted by | night life | Leave a comment