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Monthly Archives: December 2011

Marry, Kill, or Do: Mama’s Boy Edition

There are a lot of types of men women should stay away from, but mama’s boys are pretty much at the top of my stay-the-hell-away-from-me list.  Yeah, I know a man who treats his mama right knows how to treat women and blah blah blah. However, I’m pretty much convinced this was made up by some delusional woman to give other women hope that an auto-indicator of good-guyness exists. A) Women get lied to, cheated on, and disrespected by true soldiers of the mama’s boy movement everyday and B) A mama’s boy will let his mama disrespect his girlfriend or wife to no end. So, all of that non-disrespect you’ll be getting from him, you’ll be getting on the back end from his mama and/or sisters. Personally, I’d rather deal with the bull from the person I’m actually in a relationship with (preferably, none at all) than his mama and/or sisters.

Obviously, I want a man to love his mother and/or sisters and have a wonderful relationship with her/them. But, mama’s boys are different. They’re afraid of their mothers in general, afraid to ever say no to their mothers, and afraid to disappoint their mothers. In the beginning, it’s cute and maybe even a little endearing. But, when your dates start getting canceled because she locked herself out of her car and AAA suddenly doesn’t exist or whether or not the two of you should be together is suddenly called into question because she doesn’t like you, dating a mama’s boy gets old. Quick.

Sure, I’ve experienced the suckiness of dating a mama’s boy, but what happens when his mom not only doesn’t prefer you, but prefers his ex? This is a situation I’ve never personally encountered, but imagine thousands of couples have. Even Chris Brown’s mama recently tweeted Rihanna (subliminally, of course) that she missed and loved her. Rihanna (subliminally, of course) replied that she missed and loved her too. To me, that’s awkward. It’s awkward because they’re a couple who probably will never be together again. It’s also awkward because dude has a new relationship, yet his momisn’t over his ex. It’s really awkward (and disrespectful) because Chris Brown’s mother made such an awkward gesture publicly. How can two people move on if his mama won’t even do it?

Starting a new relationship after you’ve already been in a real relationship is hard enough. (Sidenote: by “real relationship,” I mean the kind that forces you to reconsider the steps you’ve taken in life just so you can incorporate that other person into your life goals and plans.) There’s the getting used to a new person and what not. But, there’s also the never-ending comparisons you subconsciously make. Remember how your ex used to leave that one sock laying around? Thank God this shiny new guy is a neat freak! Or, remember how your last girl used to fill in the blank on the regular and now your new girl refuses to fill in the blank until you put a ring on it? Too bad, because she ain’t her! For most people, the comparisons ultimately end with a matter of taste and perception—Lebron vs. Kobe, if you will.  Most importantly, these differences are trade-off’s, and it really doesn’t matter that your new dude smells kind of odd because the last one had dirty fingernails.

For mamas, though, there is no comparison. To her, the new girl isn’t an upgrade or even a lateral move. It’s a straight-up downgrade. It’s the reason why mamas are so bold in declaring their preference for the last chick, either privately or publicly. Herein lies the awkwardness. Wanting to move on and being able to are two different things, and mamas love to complicate that process. Even mamas who wanttheir mama’s boys to be happy want that happiness to come in one of two ways: Either doting on their mother the rest of their lives or doting on a woman they’ve hand-picked and approve of.

Us women who aren’t apart of the hand-chosen elite are pretty much stuck fighting an uphill battle. Now, I’m not against dating reformed mama’s boys—men who’ve gone through mama’s boys anonymous to learn to cut the umbilical cord and what not. But, dating a mama’s boy is only worth it when the relationship is great. So great it’s damn-near flawless. And, he has to be great, too. So great he’s been featured in Essence’s bachelor of the month every year since high school. I don’t mean a medium-iight relationship like Chrissy and Jim Jones. And, I don’t mean a gross-lookin’, hood ass ninja medium-iight dude like Jim Jones, either. If I’m going to be battling another woman for my man and that other woman is his mama…well, it better be worth it. Chances are, it won’t be. 

An Open Letter to Men (RE: Take Care)

There are two things that irk me. Pretenders and haters. People who spend their lives pretending to be whatever and hatin’ on whomever can pretty much get doused with a bucket of slime. Nickelodeon. Unfortunately, the release of Take Care brought out the hatin’ ass pretender in men around the country. To mask their deep appreciation (what else) for a record that actually speaks to a portion of their every day experiences, men started pretending like Take Care wasn’t for them. Even worse, men started acting likeTake Care was garbage because, well, what kind of rapper doesn’t lie about who he is? Men lied and said they grew ovaries listening to it. Men hated on Drake for talkin’ about women, instead of bad b*tches and h*es. Men hated on Drake for…uhh…dealing with the consequences of making major choices in your twenties. The thing about Drake that appeals to female audiences isn’t that his music is effeminate/emotional/for suckas. It’s simply that he’s every guy every woman has ever been in a relationship with in Mp3 form. We don’t relate to Drake. We know him because Drake makes music for men who date and sleep with women. That emo light-skin ninja you love to call soft? That’s ya’ll. Every. Single. One of you.

So, you think “Marvin’s Room” is the “player haters anthem” sung only by the ultimate lonely boy?  Actually, that song is the very conversation your girl is having with her homeboy about you right now. Yep, that’s right. Somewhere in the world, your girlfriend’s brother/homeboy/ex-man/father is telling her that she can do better—much better—than you, sir. Despite your best efforts to disguise it, women know that men actually hold women in high-esteem. It’s why you’re annoyed with the dude your home-girl/sister/ex is chillin’ with right now (no one’s good enough for her). In truth, sometime this week you’re going to tell your home-girl, sister or ex-girl that she can do better, too. Maybe she can, maybe she can’t. But the point is, someone thinks so and someone is, in fact, “player hatin’.” It’s the reason why your home-girl calls you at 3am complaining about her man. She wants to hear someone player hate the sh*t out of her current dude. And, you know why she calls you out of her 27 female BFF’s? It’s not because she wants a “male perspective.” It’s because she knows you’re down for some good old-fashioned player hating delivered in the form of perspective. In fact, Adam was using that “I’m just sayin’” line on Eve way before Drake was even born. Genesis.

You can’t stand hearing Drake warn his girl to stop wasting her time with him because he’s focused on his grind right now? Really? Because that seems to be the theme of  most relationships that take place between the ages of 20 and 32. Drake telling an accomplished woman that he’s proud of her is a little too sappy for you? I get it. It’s cooler to tell a woman that you’re proud of her thighs, huge a**, long hair, and light skin. But, that has to get old. Or, maybe it doesn’t. To each his own.

The thing that gets me isn’t so much that men like to deny that they actually relate to this dude—It’s that most of y’all are worse than him. Care Bears. You can’t stand his whining? Yeah…okay. If Drake spent one hour sifting through me and my friends’ inboxes, he’d have enough material to write his next four albums just based off of the dozens of emotional e-mails men like to send when they even think they’re in love and sh*t starts going bad. If he went ahead and added Gchat conversations to the mix, he’d have enough material to last a lifetime. Give him a spy cam to watch over our most personal moments filled with testosterone tears, male sniffles and he-man hissy-fits, he could write enough material for the next seven generations of “emo rappers.”

 Now, I’m not going to sit here and say that Drake is the greatest rapper alive (far from it), but he’s definitely an accurate representation of straight men everywhere. I guess you could say he’s “not a rapper.” That may be true at times, but not because he sings “too damn much.” Rather, Drake’s not a rapper in the traditional sense. Most rap is about smashin’ bad chicks and getting’ racks on racks. Drake, on the other hand, is about consequences. He talks about what happens when you get money to blow too young to make good choices with it. He talks about dating women who’ve been hurt. He talks about being hurt. They’re conversations that men have with their home-girls and the fights you’re having with your girl right now. Maybe men don’t appreciate Drizzy airing out their emotional laundry. Whatever it is, women know what’s up, no matter how much you try to deny it.

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