Stuff Black People Hate

Figure 1: Ugh…

The clubbing experience is, at its core, a very depressing one. When you arrive at a club you will be presented with an unfathomably vast cornucopia of bullshit that will assail your senses like crashing surf for upwards of four hours. So let’s go together, you and I, on an item by item safari through this social horn of plenty, starting with…

• The Guest List: To get into a lot of good clubs (at least in DC) you have to be on one of these goddamn lists, and this is the stupidest fucking concept ever because in DC it’s not even hard to get on the list. To get on the stupid goddamn list you either have to a.) know a promoter (or someone who knows them), or b.) print out one of those ridiculous flyers on the club’s website. This sucks for everyone because a.) promoters are usually idiots who simply put the names of their equally idiotic friends on the list, and b.) why the fuck do I need a stupid fucking flyer? If I ever open a club, the ‘door policy’ will consist of me letting in 10 hot chicks for every 1 dude who passes a ‘Dipshit Test’ (which 90% of men will fail MISERABLY). It will also consist of my biggest and strongest bouncer bludgeoning people I deem to be…

• Corporate Douchebags: This is the jackass that just graduated from college, has a bullshit job, makes $60,000 per year, and thinks he’s King Kong because he just pulled up to the club in a brand new 3-Series BMW.
  
  
  
  Figure 2: Asshole
  
  This asshole is usually asian, indian, or white. He has a metric ton of gel (or Soul-Glo) in his hair, wears square-toed black Bruno Maglis, and is otherwise covered in crap from Banana Republic or J. Crew. He will brag to chicks about his bullshit job and symbols of ‘wealth’ all night. He will not mention that he lives with roommates, does not own his home, and can’t do his own laundry. You’ll recognize this guy by your sudden and barely controllable urges to punch him in the spine. This is not to be confused with…

• Athletic Douchebags: this genus of ‘bag’ is usually black, but will occasionally be white or even asian. He will show up to the club wearing a combination of $300 sneakers, clean but very baggy jeans or white ‘designer’ track pants, and some kind of track or track-derived jacket to match the pants worn atop a huge t-shirt/man-dress that contrasts sharply with the jacket (red and white is a popular combo these days).
  
  
  
  Figure 3: The rare white athletic douchebag
  
  His hair will be unnaturally wavy, usually as a result of being employed at McDonald’s - where wearing a stocking on your head during the workday is both accepted and encouraged. This asshole will also wear shades even though it’s the middle of the fucking night, and will be covered in shiny faux jewelry worth about as much as a heroin-addict’s piss.

The guest lists and douchebags are horrible, but the pain has only just begun. Once we move closer to the door, we will inevitably encounter…

• The Douchebitch: I generally discourage calling any woman a bitch, but the person I’m about to describle is a fucking VILE, SNARLING, HOSTILE BITCH in every sense of the phrase.
  
  
  
  Figure 4: Applied douchebitchery
  
  This is the girl who thinks she’s way more attractive than she actually is, and should therefore be given star treatment like she’s Beyonce fucking Knowles. This girl is equally likely to be a member of any race - douchebitches will be black, white, asian, hispanic, etc. with alarming uniformity. She sneers with contempt at every single person in the venue, will demand a drink at your table, grits ferociously on the girls in the club that are actually pretty, and spends the entire evening railing about how “there ain’t no real ballers up in here” (or whatever the white/asian/indian/hispanic equivalent of this phrase is). This is in spite of the fact this chick is, herself, a complete waste of human life. If she’s lucky enough to be employed, she makes $9 an hour. She knows nothing about current events. She does not read for leisure. She has never exercised in her entire life, notwithstanding the half-crunch she does every morning to get out of bed. She doesn’t know how to cook. She doesn’t even enjoy people. She sucks, but not quite as much as…

• The Bouncer: a bouncer is a large man whose life is utterly meaningless between Sunday and Thursday.
  
  
  
  Figure 5: Hates his life 5/7 of the time
  
  But for two glorious nights, this meat popsicle holds the keys to your very soul. He controls your ability to enter the club, and he can ‘bounce’ you out of the club at any time and for virtually any reason. He feels cool because he gets to wear one of those little earpieces like Secret Service agents. If he wants to impress a girl by looking important, he’ll put his finger up to his ear and assume a concerned facial expression so it looks like he’s receiving critical information from a very important person - e.g. “drunk chick vomiting in the third floor bathroom, please respond” from the busboy with questionable immigration status. Once the bouncer lets you in, you’re almost certain to find a bunch of dudes who have reserved…

• Tables: there are two types of men that reserve tables, and therefore there are two types of tables. One is the ‘Practical Table’. This table is populated by sensible men who realize that it’s cheaper and more convenient to do bottle service than wait for drinks at the bar if your primary aim is to get drunk. You’ll recognize this table by the fact that its occupiers are huddled in a circle, drinking as fast as they can, and ignoring everyone and everything else in the club. I see nothing wrong with this table, probably because usually that’s MY fucking table. But then there’s the other table: the ‘Pompous Table’. This is the table populated by idiotic men who, since they’re sitting at a table behind a velvet rope, think they’re all P. Diddy and that girls should be knocking each other over to leap onto their cocks.
  
  
  
  Figure 6: Yet another sad truth…
  
  You’ll recognize this table by the fact that it’s occupiers are standing nowhere near the table itself, instead opting to hover near the rope with their hands in their pockets, gazing hopelessly at women who are as out of their league as they are uninterested in them, in spite of their stupid fucking table.

So now that we’ve pushed our way through the first six degrees of stupidity, we arrive at the dance floor. Here we will witness a dizzying array of social offenses. Let’s start with…

• The Sneak Up: every girl has been through this. You’ll be dancing and minding your own business when next thing you know there is a grimey dude behind you thrusting his cock imprint betwixt your butt cheeks. He did not ask to dance with you, and he did not introduce himself.
  
  
  
  Figure 7: But friggin’ Goldilocks here is practically begging for it
  
  All you can be sure of is two things: a.) he’s probably ugly, because otherwise he wouldn’t have been afraid to approach you head on, and b.) he’s probably socially awkward for the exact same reason. A girl whose been ’snuck’ will roll her eyes angrily and humor the offender for a minute or so, or try to subtly scuttle off to some other part of the dance floor. That is, unless she’s rescued by one of two forms of cock blocking, the first of which is…

• Blockery by Mockery: this has been tuned to perfection by black women. This is where a girl’s friends will mock with merciless fervor a guy they deem to be unsatisfactory until he finally runs away with his balls tucked between his legs*. This is a much more confrontational but far less annoying tactic than that preferred by white/asian women, which is…

• Body Snatching: unlike the mockery method, the Body Snatch tends to be executed for no good fucking reason. Even if the girl is actually interested in you (i.e. you’re making her laugh, and you’re both happy and smiling) - her friends will swoop in like the buzzards they are an relieve you of each other’s company, dragging the girl by the arm away from you even if it’s against her will. The ‘why’ behind women doing this has never been adequately explained to me, so I’m simply going to assume it happens because all women secretly hate each other and want their female friends to be as unhappy as they are.

Let’s not pick on the ladies, though. We gentlemen are also executors of two unacceptable methods of blockery, the first of which is…

• Blockery by Proximity: this is where a man’s friends refuse to disperse when he’s started dancing with a girl. Instead of scattering to the four winds like they’re supposed to, they hover three feet away from you, immobile as fucking Easter Island statues intimidating the bajeezus out of the poor girl who has no choice to feel like she’s about to get Eiffel Towered in a bathroom somewhere. The girl will inevitably run off, leaving the victim male with no choice but to retaliate later with the second method of blockery…

• Injection: ever been chatting up a girl when your fucking friend leaps uninvited into the conversation to introduce himself? That’s injection, and it should be a fucking felony. Suddenly you’ve gone from being a cool guy to being the guy with the idiot friend which, by extension, makes you an idiot for having him as a friend. Being victimized by injection creates the rare circumstance where it’s actually OK to kick another man in the nuts.

Alas, the end is drawing nigh. It’s 3:30am, and the final chip falls:

• The Closing Lights: when all the lights suddenly come on at the end of the night, you realize just how much of a disaster your life is. Somewhere in the room, a tipsy girl realizes she’s been dancing all night with a man who could be legally classified as a dwarf. Elsewhere, a drunken guy comes to the understanding that he just made out with his cousin. People are vomiting everywhere. Mascara and makeup are running down the sweaty faces of women making them look like Sweet Tooth from Twisted Metal.

You survey all the damage around you. The spilled beer, the mixing straws all over the floor, the drunken stragglers squinting against the harshness of the lights, the unfulfilled dreams, the broken promises, the horror of it all…

You feel like Charlie Sheen at the end of ‘Platoon’.

Figure 8: Yep.

*I am aware this is where the balls are tucked all the time, but it’s a figure of speech. So gimme a fucking break.

Black people hate Europe because yuppie white people claim to love it so much, yet they refuse to live there instead of fucking up our neighborhoods.

Figure 1: Just fucking move there already. I’ll help you pack!

What the hell is the deal with hipster white dudes and fucking goddamn Europe? I’ve heard them praise everything from the ‘ancientness’ of the cities, to better social programs and government, less crime, more attractive women and more charming men, and (my personal favorite) the ‘culture’.

This last one cracks me up because of the irony of it all. There’s nothing funnier than a white dude of mixed Anglo-Russian descent traveling to Prague to reconnect with his ‘roots’. This is almost as funny as black dudes in the US reconnecting with the past by visiting Ethiopia* even though their slave ancestors came from the Ivory Coast.

I suppose black folks are biased. For white people, Europe conjures up images of centuries old churches, tapas on open plazas, cobblestone streets, pristine evergreen forests, boutique wines, and quaint old villages. For me it conjures up images of this, this, this, this, this, and especially this. White people may pretend otherwise, but deep down they know Europe SUCKS, and that’s why they won’t live there. Europe sucks so fucking hard they’d rather live smack in the middle of American ghettos than in Lisbon**.

Figure 2: Me telling Portugal where we stand

Here are some of the things that suck, with teeth and dry tongue, about various European countries:

1. Spain: pickpockets, pickpockets, and more pickpockets.
2. France: Socialism. Ew.
3. England: bad teeth, bad food, and the constant threat of rain. And Hugh Grant
4. Czech Republic: they will throw you out a window, and they will not give a fuck
5. Portugal: a country full of dudes whining about their lost empire
6. Italy: the mob is their fault
7. Germany: Too easy.
8. Netherlands: for some reason, the Dutch have declared war on Islam

Europe does have one thing going for it though - they know exactly how to treat their children:

Figure 3: Child-rearing in Madrid

*Ethopia is Prague for black people
**That, and weak European economies aren’t able to absorb skill-less immigrants with useless degrees who are unable/unwilling to work with their hands

Figure 1: Owns neither comb nor razor

Abraham Lincoln is a fucking asshole. Yes, he delivered the Emancipation Proclamation and freed the slaves. So fucking what? Doing so was politically and militarily motivated, and he’s still a racist fucktwat:

“I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races [the crowd applauds] – that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people, and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the black and white races which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And inasmuch as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race.”

-Abraham Lincoln, 1858

Several years later, after Pharaoh softened his heart, he delivered this little tidbit:

“It is also unsatisfactory to some that the elective franchise is not given to the colored man. I would myself prefer that it were now conferred on the very intelligent, and on those who serve our cause as soldiers.”

-Abraham Lincoln, 1865

Sho izz mighty KINE o’ya massa ta fix’n let dem niggaz wit da book learnin’ vote, yess’a sho nuff iz! Fuck you very much, asshole. Abraham Lincoln hates black people and he really REALLY hates Indians. If John Wilkes Booth wasn’t a racist assclown himself, I’d spill a 40 in his honor.

Figure 2: My homeboy, as long as I’m willing to delude myself…

I’ve met a lot of white people who get pissed off when blacks seem ‘ungrateful’ for the things some of them have done for us. Now, these white people know they can blame Abraham Lincoln. It’s not that we don’t appreciate the things you do, it’s that we don’t trust you. It’s the same sentiment that a girl in a bar has toward a guy that buys her a drink. She appreciates the drink, but she’s pretty sure that his sneaky ass is up to something (and he almost always is).

Figure 3: Smile! You’ve been Abe Lincolned!

Many thanks to Angry ver. 3.2 (Beta) for suggesting I honor all angry negroes who have graced the title image of this blog with their likeness.

Enter the Hall of Rage. 

Check this shit out: go to the comments section of this site, or the comments sections for SEBPL. Now, go to any other black discussion forum of your choice - particularly those that stir up controversy and arguments between two or more posters. The comments sections of YouTube music videos are a good place to look. Notice a common theme?

Black people will rip you the fuck apart for even the most minute technical errors in your writing.

Figure 1: “It’s THEIR, not THEY’RE, you fucking asshole!”

The obvious reason for this is that black people love correcting others, so you damn well better be ready to proofread and have a spell-checker available if you are going to posit something before the black community in written form. No matter how lucid, logical, and utterly bulletproof your argument is, it will be rendered completely useless by a dangling participle. Did you just find the cure for AIDS? Who the fuck cares - your press release used the word “it’s” where you should’ve used “its”! You, madam, are an uneducated, apostrophe-ignorant, AIDS-curing colostomy bag of a human being!

This phenomenon becomes even more pronounced when black people argue with each other (or with non-blacks). You’d think that when debating some topic, the first thing you’d do in response to getting someone else’s opinion is to examine it for logical errors, invalid assumptions, lies, disingenuous or misleading statements, and other things that actually matter.

This is not the process we black people follow.

Instead, we will read your argument carefully - but the first time we go through it, all we’re doing is looking for is mistakes in your writing. We’re looking for spelling errors, dangling prepositions, sentence fragments, improper semicolon use, and other things that are extremely relevant to your argument. We don’t care that, after observing chimps in the wild for 30 years, you’ve discovered that some have learned to cultivate their own food: you spelled banana ‘bannana’ in your research paper, and therefore, you are only slightly more intelligent than the very creatures you study.

Figure 2: The awful truth about arguing with black people

Once we’ve discovered a technical error in your writing, the debate is effectively over. You will usually be told something to the effect of “Why don’t you learn how to spell next time you decide to post here?” and, surprisingly, this will be enough to convince everyone that a.) you’re an idiot, and b.) the person that called you out is a genius.

There are only two ways to regain your intellectual credibility:

One: Point out the writing mistakes of someone else - preferably the person who called you out. Then everyone will think you’re both equally stupid, and they’ll be ready to listen to you again. This is a slash-and-burn policy, though, because at this point no one is taking you seriously. Two people who were once seen as intelligent debaters are now seen as contestants in a poop flinging contest that, while amusing, has nothing to do with the original topic anymore.

or…

Two: Win one Nobel fucking Prize for each writing error you made, and try posting again. Unfortunately, you lose this way too. By the time you win your prize(s), the original topic will be deemed yesterday’s news, and the community will once again render you a gun-wielding Simeon for bringing up ‘old shit.’

Life’s a bitch. Then you die.

One of the few people you’ll meet who will actually admit to enjoying most of the movie ‘Titanic’…is me. Despite Leo DiCaprio’s boyishly girly face shitting up the screen for three fucking hours and a plot meant to give men false romantic hope*, there was plenty to enjoy about this movie:

• Rich white people treating poor white people the same way poor white people treated all black people
• Unnecessary high-stakes gambling
• Leo’s Italian buddy getting crushed by a smokestack the size of a townhouse
• The rich dude flipping out, then chasing Leo and Kate around the sinking ship trying to shoot them
• Car sex
• Boobies
• Theft (if you think about it, Leo basically spends the entire movie stealing shit [women, hats, coats, food, tickets, etc.])
• Mayhem involving lifeboats
• Snotty British dudes being constantly punched in the face or told to “SHUT UP!”
• Drinking contests, arm wrestling, and the constant falling down of drunken Irishmen

Then something happened in Titanic to make me hate the whole movie, and it’s the same thing that nearly made me hate iRobot as well: some chick performed a live-saving but potentially life-ending act with her fucking eyes closed in fear**.

Remember the scene I’m talking about? Little Boy Leo is handcuffed to a pipe below decks, and Rhode Island Red Kate Winslett shows up to free him with an axe. After a couple of awful practice swings, this chick heaves the axe at the chain between Leo’s wrists - a space of about four inches - WITH HER FUCKING EYES CLOSED!

Figure 1: Do not give this woman an axe

Leo closed his eyes, too. But I’m sure if he’d opened them to see her eyes closed while swinging a goddamn axe at him, the remainder of Titanic would have just consisted of him screaming in hysteric disbelief at Kate as the ship sank to the bottom of the Atlantic.

While I was able to enjoy some of the movie after this, I definitely spent the rest of the movie with that scene sticking in my craw. I sat there fuming about both male and female physical incompetence. Titanic and iRobot unfairly categorize women as being the only ones afraid of heavy weapons, but the truth of the matter is that most city-fied men are just as scared. Let’s face facts people: men are becoming just as uncomfortable and unfamiliar with power tools, weapons, and the general manly act of knowing how to fix shit as women are with the womanly act of knowing how to cook (pasta does NOT count) and make clothing.

Dudes that can’t do simple things (called Fundamentals of Manliness, or FOM) like change a tire, change car oil and filters, start a fire without matches, assemble/disassemble a pistol or rifle, find the North Star, build a house, cook a steak, split wood, fix a bike chain, determine the time of day from the position of the sun, install a dimmer switch, prep a fishing line, get places without detailed directions, or fire up a BBQ pit…all those dudes fucking suck and have gigantic pussy flaps. The only thing more infuriating than the fact that these guys exist is HOW MANY OF THEM EXIST. There are millions of men in cities all over America who are rendered completely useless once you take a computer away from them.

Figure 2: Standard of Manliness (l to r): Before Titanic…and after

The pervasive unmanning of men can be blamed entirely on Titanic. Why? Because Titanic duped men into thinking that FOM ignorance is only a female problem, and it kept these men from coming to the realization: “hey, my delicate ass doesn’t know how to swing an axe, either!” Comfortable with their false sense of FOMliness, these same dudes allowed shows like Queer Eye to become popular and further contribute to the decline in FOM. It’s only going to get worse with time.

Titanic is a secret project devised by the French to make American men even girlier than theirs, thus allowing them to successfully invade the United States. James Cameron should be tried and hanged for High Treason.

Figure 3: Hates America

*Titanic is similar to ‘When Harry Met Sally’ in this respect. Chuck Klosterman accurately pointed out that WHMS served the sole purpose of convincing every idiot guy with a hot female friend that, someday, he could be her man - which is an unmitigated crock of shit. Similarly, Titanic tries to convince idiot guys that chicks will trade their life with a rich douchebag for a life with a financially-poor-but-personality-rich good guy. This is also bullshit. The rich girl will happily have an affair with the poor guy, but she’ll never actually leave the rich guy. This is why rich white women hire pool boys.

**There’s a scene in iRobot where the main female character frees Will Smith from the Vulcan Death Grip of a robot by shooting it with a machine gun…with her eyes closed in fear. The reason I don’t hate iRobot is because, unlike Titanic, someone called her out on this shit: the little squirrely guy says to will “Holy shit dude that chick just shot at you with her eyes closed.” Will then proceeds to scream at her for awhile, and she justifies her actions by saying “well it worked, didn’t it?” This means-justifying-the-ends attitude is proof that both she and Kate Winslett are fascists.

I’ve noticed myself responding to many repeated questions in emails and blog comments, so I’ve included a FAQ page to (hopefully) lessen my need to do this. Enjoy.

-Chris

Thankfully, I have yet to actually see a scenario that standup comedians often describe: a child (usually a white one) telling his or her parents to go fuck themselves. What I’m seeing an alarming increase in, however, are children telling their parents what they will or will not do. For this, and many other reasons, children need to fucking die.

As time marches on, you can see the crumbling of American personal character on a macro scale pretty much everyday. Nobody believes there should be real consequences for breaking the rules (ask Florida and Michigan). Married couples are getting divorced at the first sign of trouble. Moral relativism is steeply on the rise. NIMBY applies to virtually everyone. People think that stupid ass ‘going green’ campaigns that really don’t inconvenience them in any way is going to head off global warming. MTV is allowed to exist.

All of this can be attributed to the fact that we don’t give our children enough discipline. By ‘discipline’, I don’t mean ‘beatings’ - I mean ‘persistent psychological trauma.’

Figure 1: Character Building

I don’t think you necessarily need to beat your kids to get them in line or to help them build character. You’ll see many proponents of ‘old-school’ parenting bragging about the frequency and severity of the beatings they received as a child, and how it shaped them into a functioning adult. While I’m not against laying the corporal smackdown on a small child, I do believe that its effectiveness is limited. Children eventually get used to beatings. Their pain tolerances increase. They learn to meditate the pain away like Shaolin Monks. Eventually, the beatings go from being a source of genuine fear to merely being a nuisance.

But you can use a beating to kickstart a lifelong program of emotional terror. Here’s an example from my life:

In all the years of my childhood, I was officially beaten* only one time. It happened when I was five or six years old as a result of me mouthing off to my mother in front of her friends. My ass was beaten until the slur ‘redskin’ could applied to me literally. I think I remember my mother laughing the whole time. The memory of my one and only beating is so seared into my memory that I can recall the pattern on the bed spread (yellow background with orange stenciled butterflies), the time of day (near high noon), and the fact that the curtains in the room were drawn shut.

It wasn’t until years later that I understood the reason my mother whooped my ass so severely: it was to make me fear my father for the rest of my life. My mother was a relatively small woman during my youth at 5′ 8″ and weighing about 115 lbs, with small wrists, thin fingers, thin neck, etc. My father, on the other hand, was a monster to me. As a boy I wasn’t really sure what God’s plan was for my dad, but with him towering at 6′ 2″ and weighing well over 200lbs, I was pretty sure it involved smashing things. So if my mother could kick my ass, then I could only imagine what would happen if my father was turned loose on me:

Figure 2: Actually, I could imagine exactly what would happen

From that point on, my parents kept me in line with a two-part disciplinary strategy. One part was a combination of verbal threats and groundings for minor offenses**. I never committed any major offenses** because of the second part of the strategy - an ever-increasing fear of my father. Over the years, my father would send me subtle hints about his power. He made me aware that there were guns in the house and he knew how to use them. He convinced me that he could look at my tongue to determine if I’d been playing with matches. He would often relate his hunting stories to me, so I knew he was capable of killing things bigger than people. He would ‘playfully’ pluck me in the back of the head (this hurt like fucking hell) with one finger…making me implicitly afraid of the pain he could inflict with an entire arm.

So you see, you don’t actually need to beat your children to keep them in line - you just have to constantly scare the living shit out of them. This is a good thing for two reasons: 1.) it removes the threat of children calling child services (kids can’t substantiate claims of terror if they can’t prove you’re beating them), and 2.) scaring children is fun.

Terror is the best medicine for raising children, which leads me to believe that Osama Bin Laden is (if he has kids) the greatest dad since Abraham:

Figure 3: Parenting techniques, as recommended by God Himself

*a beating is only ‘official’ if the parent interrupts what they are doing to beat you for the distinct and sole purpose of beating you. In other words, the beating is an event in and of itself with a clear beginning, middle, and end. This is different than, say, the casual swat a parent will give to calm a child that’s acting like an asshole in a grocery store.

**the difference between a major offense and a minoroffense involved whether or not what I did embarrassed my parents publicly

Fashion is getting more and more fucking ridiculous every goddamn day. We haven’t quite reached the acid-induced insanity that inspired the out-of-this-world fashion trends of the 1960’s, but I’ve concluded that at this point, we’re on a runaway freight train headed right in that direction.

So without further adieu, here is an abbreviated list of fashion trends that MUST STOP before humankind, as a species, is hopelessly lost.

Flats

Nothing has made me sadder in recent fashion history than the decline of the high heel shoe. Women everywhere of every age and race are taking up the feminist rallying cry “GOD AS MY WITNESS, MY FEET WILL NEVER GO SORE AGAIN!” and adopting flat shoes.

Figure 1: Yuck

All this is happening at a time when women are demanding their men to be more muscled, more educated, more intellectually curious, and more sensitive to their feelings (all of which make us VERY sore, especially the last one). We’re more than happy to do this, ladies, but at the very least you could throw on some fuck-me pumps that shape your legs and ass into that oh so beautiful contour that fills us with the sexual angst that drives us to throw up a few more bench presses.

Saggy Pants

This has been around for a long time. I’ll never forget when my dad was driving me home from school one day, and on the corner of Pennsylvania Ave and 26th Street SE - right in front of a police station - I spotted a young woman speaking to a young man…whose pants were literally around his ankles. That’s right, they weren’t just sagging and showing his boxers. THEY WERE AROUND HIS FUCKING ANKLES LIKE HE WAS GOING TO COP A SQUAT AT ANY MOMENT. I have never seen my father more angry than he was that day, and this is a guy who blew away a poisonous snake with a shotgun at point blank range to “teach me a lesson”.

Figure 2: Times are hard, and belts are expensive

White people became threatened by this, and many cities have passed controversial ordinances banning the sagging pants practice*. Then someone responded by making faux-saggy jeans. Have you seen this shit?

Some genius decided to get around these no-sag laws by making pants that actually have the boxers INTEGRATED with the jeans. So imagine figure 2, but with the boxers and the jeans being sewn together and, therefore, part of the same garment. They’re pants that pretend to be saggy. I said they’re pants that pretend to be saggy. Did you fucking hear what I just said? Let me reiterate: THEY’RE PANTS THAT PRETEND TO BE SAGGY! THEY’RE PANTS THAT PRETEND TO BE SAGGY!THEY’RE PANTS THAT PRETEND TO BE SAGGY!THEY’RE PANTS THAT PRETEND TO BE SAGGY!THEY’RE PANTS THAT PRETEND TO BE SAGGY!THEY’RE PANTS THAT PRETEND TO BE SAGGY!

There is no cause for optimism about anything, ever.

Bald Heads on Women (who don’t have cancer or some shit)

I’m going to get a lot of flak for this, but I don’t care. Ladies, yall need to grow at least a good 3 inches of hair. Don’t get me wrong - bald heads actually look decent on some women…from the front…in broad daylight. The problem arises when it comes to sexual relations.

If you look at the back of the head of a bald man and a bald woman, you can’t really tell the difference. As you know, black men love doing it doggy style and, well, when you’re going at it with a girl from the back and she has a shaved head, he can’t help but feel like he could just as easily be banging some brolic dude named Jerome.

A woman shaving her head is like a man wearing eye shadow.

Figure 3: Same fucking difference

Maternity Tops

I don’t know if these fucking things are actually styled after maternity dresses. All I know is that they make any girl look fat and/or pregnant.

Figure 4: No.

The two images above are fairly atrocious examples, but the concept applies to any top that cinches just below the boobs and lets the rest of the top fall loosely. These tops say one of three things to a guy: 1.) I’m pregnant, 2.) I wanna get pregnant real soon, 3.) I’m a fat fuck and I think this stupid top is fooling you. If you insist on wearing these tops, then you are dooming yourself to attracting the types of guys who wear…

Excessive Bling

Figure 5: Makes $10 an hour

Nothing makes me laugh** harder than when I see some moron roll up into a club covered in CZs and a bunch of stainless steel…except when I see women actually falling for their bullshit. Women never admit to falling for guys because they’re covered in FUBU and fake ice, but then again men never admit to watching porn, either. We’re all full of shit.

Women have no idea of the time, effort, and expense that men will go through to feign the appearance of wealth for the purposes of attracting women. I know a person who spent months saving thousands of dollars to rent a Ferrari for a weekend JUST to impress chicks at clubs. Women assume men won’t go to these lengths because…women don’t do it. Women are wrong.

Ladies, if you really wanna find out who the well-off men are in the clubs, I suggest the following: ‘accidentally’ spill a moderate amount of alcohol (preferably something that will stain permanently, like a cranberry mixer) on a man wearing a nice shirt, then take careful note of how pissed off he gets. The man’s anger is inversely proportional to his wealth.

For example, if you spill a drink on the dude in figure 5 and he loses it - it’s because he can’t afford to replace the shirt. This is probably a result of poor financial management and limited financial means. But if you spill a drink on him and he doesn’t care, or even laughs about it***, you’ve got yourself a guy who isn’t living paycheck to paycheck

I could go on all damn day about fashion trends, but I’ll end it here. Please feel free to add your fashion pet peeves to the comments section, and render this article complete.

*This and this, however, are perfectly acceptable to them
**This is a video of me in the unused chapel of an old palace in Portugal. The echo in the room was incredible, and I could not resist making as much noise as humanly possible
***He may be clinically insane

Figure 1: Accidentally called out America on its own bullshit

Remember this?

I was probably one of the last people to watch this video, since I only saw it about 2 or 3 weeks ago. I wasn’t actually filled with a sense of pride because Derrick knew what he was talking about. I was filled with pride because the belligerent interviewer got his ass handed to him, and justly so for making the racist assumption that a dark dude with a shell necklace was simply voting for Obama because it’s the ‘black’ thing to do. Overall, I was very happy after watching this interview.

Then I read this commentary, written by Derrick as a guest column for CNN.

After reading it, I was VERY angry.

There are two things that piss me the fuck off about Derrick Ashong, and what’s interesting is that these two things really have nothing to do with Derrick Ashong at all.

The first thing seems relatively superficial - Derrick’s writing style. In reality, it’s not “Derrick’s writing style”, per se. Rather, it’s the writing style of many intelligent people (and not just blacks) who, when put in front of a general audience, feel the need to really gun it intellectually. They emphasize sophistication over clarity which, ironically, is exactly the wrong way to connect with the average person. So I guess I’m pissed off at this emphasis rather than the writing style itself, which is why my anger really has nothing to do with Derrick Ashong.

Anyway, If you read the commentary you’ll notice that it’s filled with four-syllable words that are rarely used in normal conversation. Reading Derrick’s article aloud is damn near impossible. While this demonstrates either an impressively masterful grasp of English vocabulary or ready access to an online thesaurus, it does two things that are very negative:

1. Makes his writing difficult to digest: meaning that the message of his commentary, which is a very good one and should be absorbed by everyone, will probably be discarded by the average (i.e. easily distracted) reader as soon as they encounter the word ’sophomoric’. This effectively renders his message as useless as if he’d responded to the interviewer on the YouTube video by flinging poop at him.
2. Makes him look like he’s trying too hard to impress someone: like the first issue, this perception will dilute his message. Blue collar blacks and whites alike will, because of his language, view him as elitist, and dismiss his opinions altogether for a very simple and even logical reason - they’ll assume that Derrick doesn’t understand them, so his message can’t apply to them. They’ll do this even if they haven’t read/understood his message, and even if his message actually does apply to them (and it does)

I’m sure SEBPL will one day post an article entitled “Showing Off Intellectually” (they came close with this article), and explain the ins and outs of how smart black people everywhere feel the need to always max out their intellectual capacity in public, even if it makes them impossible to understand or a pain in the ass to deal with. It’s is similar to someone driving a Corvette at 160mph at all times just because they know it can go that fast. Derrick is using way more intellectual horsepower than is necessary to get his point across, and doing so is getting him in his own way. The shit needs to stop.

The second thing that pisses me off about Derrick (remember, I’m pissed ABOUT him, not AT him) involves subtle racism. If Derrick were white, none of this shit would’ve been news. Why? Because people wouldn’t necessarily be surprised that a white guy knew the issues and the candidates’ stances on them. It wouldn’t be a big deal, and it wouldn’t be newsworthy.

But a black guy, especially a dark black guy, is a different story. I can only imagine that the asshole reporter approached Derrick hoping to hear a ridiculous emotional motivation for supporting Obama: namely “BECAUSE HE’S BLACK!” or “I DUNNO, I JUST LIKE THE GUY AND THINK HE CAN CHANGE THINGS!” What’s even more enraging is that the reporter wasn’t the only one who thought this way. MOST PEOPLE thought this way, including a lot of black people.

Any person, black or white, who forwards you Derrick’s video gushing about how he knew his shit (instead of gushing about how dumb the reporter is) harbors the same latently racist attitude as the reporter. Why? Because that person is, like the reporter, either surprised or downright shocked that a black guy would know the issues so well.

I offer a challenge for people to dig deep, and really examine what they liked about the video. Did you like the video because the presumptive, racist reporter made the mistake of assuming Derrick was an idiot based on his appearance and, as a result, wound up looking like one himself? Or did you like it because, to your surprise, Derrick was able to pose a lucid and logical defense of Barack Obama?

Be honest with yourself. Subtle racism’s a bitch, ain’t it?