Friday, March 20, 2009

I'm Trippin'...I'm Caught Up In The Moment Right

So I'm listening to Kanye and I come across this lyric, “There's a thousand yous, there’s only one of me” (I also feel like I heard this hiding in some Lil Wayne babble) and it made me pause, only for a second, just slightly. I don’t know about you, but I l know a thousand metro-sexual men with Coming to America mullet tails and arrogant attitudes (okay maybe I'm pushing it with the mullet). The list of dread toting, metal mouth, rappers, five feet and below is even more extensive. Again I paused. I won’t deny its sensibility. When men “make it” we (women) have the tendency to regard them as the archetypical male. Psychologically we all share this group thought that his success makes him more desirable, certainly more attractive and dare I say, a good catch. Forget the fact that we walked by him yesterday and screwed our faces up as he tried to approach us with that “hey how are you” nice guy nonsense. I mean that was yesterday, before we saw him on TV. We’d much rather run across him today and have him select us from the flock of women eagerly ready to do whatever it takes for a moment of his affection, from which we now stand. Don’t think this holds any veracity? I understand, some people need examples, we all learn differently. Let’s start with Kanye and Lil Wayne. No one thought twice about Mr. West during his through the wire days. . .please and Lil Wayne, if the man didn’t have money. . .need I persist? How about Jay-Z? The man’s a former drug dealer, who can rap. That’s not so uncommon. All the pushermen I know can spit a verse and without the money all you have is a man with an extensive vocabulary (or a nearby thesaurus). I’m sure he has redeeming qualities. We all do, but his apparent success doesn’t make him fit for royalty. Ladies, let’s turn the tables on these men. There are a thousand of them. Sure we may share some similarities but none of us are the same unless we allow ourselves to be. No matter what, you are special, unique, one of a kind and gosh darn it let’s start living that way!! Don’t put up with nonsense, don’t sell yourself short, don’t worry about finding a catch or making things work, just make yourself happy. Live in the now, because it is all you have!!

The Top 5 Places to Find A Man...Or Not

We asked some of our readers where the top 5 places are, in any town, to find a man. The results were staggering...

1.The Barbershop- Most men go to the barbershop. There is something special to be said about the ones who go regularly. Not only can you land a man, but a so fresh & so clean looking man to boot. Even more appealing...the man to woman ratio is very high (unlike the real world)! Now go borrow your nephew and take him to get a haircut.

2. Autozone, Home Depot, etc...- Most men who frequent these places have one or more of the following three:
-Money to buy items from these stores
-A job that pays him to service/make things associated with these stores
-or the ability to service/make things associated with these stores.
Either way you'll find a man with money, a job or the ability to fix things when they break (even if he his unemployed).

3. The bookstore is great place to meet a man . . you can spark up some pretty thought provoking conversations

4. How about the elevator at a well known firm. If you ride up enough floors, I'm sure you'll run across some prospects. Just remember to bring along some business cards so you won't look like a complete crazy person (or desperate Debra). Who knows you may find a man and a job simultaneously.

5. You can find some "cultured" men in museums. . . just got to navigate through the gay ones.

(results in no particular order)

And the winners for the top 4 places to NOT find a man are:

1. Church- Everybody there has problems...thats why they're there. And if that gun and the blood are any indication...I'll be making my way to the exit right now.

2. The Club- All the men there just want to make love in it. Thanks Usher.

3. The Doctor's Office- You don't know what he's there for. Unfortunately you wouldn't be able to ask the doctor due to that stupid doctor/patient confidentiality thing. Thanks HIPPA.

4. The liquor store- Chances are, he just finished up that bottle he's holding and he's about to purchase his second. And it's only 3:00 in the after noon. I'll pass.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Make Me Ova. . . Make Me Nice

Amber Rose is really starting to grow on me. Though I think I would like Kanye's bald arm candy a little more if every sighting came with a free pole lesson. I'm just saying.

I kid. . . I kid

Love the shoes, love the dress, love the bag, love the skinhead cut. . .loves it all! That Kanye sure can dress.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

L.A. Face With A Oakland Booty...

Last week the CocktailOur staff did a little shopping. We picked up some blouses, a cute leopard print miniskirt and some butt pads.

Huh? read me...butt pads.

You know that we never hesitate to make a fool of ourselves here. So we strapped on the booty and took it for a ride.

Initially, the thought was hilarious. The box contains two silicone, breast-like, pads and a pair of control panties with pockets on each booty cheek. You slide the silicone pad into the pocket, then watch the magic happen. I carried those babies around on me for an hour and had to fight the men, and women, off with a stick.

I would recommend the butt pads to anyone who is less endowed in the bootang area. However, I will offer you a few pointers before purchase:
  • The panty is a control panty(somewhat of a girdle) and is a little uncomfortable after a while. It could be this particular brand, so just look around if you plan on purchasing a pair.
  • If you're going to wear them, maybe it should be for special occasions and not daily use. A couple of hours in club...maybe. Eight hours at work...maybe not. (Unless you work at an establishment where booty helps you advance or receive tips, ie...Hooters.)
  • These butt pads may attract random ass slaps from your and women alike. Let them have their fun. They'll get tired of it after a while.
  • Finally...Men will give you slack about your new booty. They'll say its wrong, (something about "I'm Gon Get You Sucka") and that you're deceiving men into thinking that you have a be-dunk-a-dunk. Screw them. Ask them whats the difference between your new ass-et and padded bras, weaves, and big feet stuffed in little shoes. Its a different drug, but they all get you high.
Enjoy your new booty. You paid for it, and you didn't even have to go to Brazil to get it.

Kanye Is Turning Me On

It might be me, but I think I want some kisses and dry-humping from Kanye too. This video has changed my perception of him. The lockjaw & afro-mullet are in the past. Nothing but sexy thoughts about him from this day forward. Move over Sarah Connor...I'm making my move.

No Backsies

They always come back. . .

Why is it that men always want to return to the scene of the crime?
We build a bond and try our hardest to keep him happy, thinking both parties involved are on the same page. Then something happens. They tear our heart into little pieces, and scatter those little shreds along the ground we thought was the foundation of our relationship, and simply walk away.

So of course we cry a little bit, and and maybe mope around for a while. We take our time to search for that strong independent woman we used to be before we pushed her aside to focus on this man. Dig in our back pocket for that bright confidence and womanly strut we own. Remember them? We stuck them in there for safe keeping when we paused to waste some time with Mister. And now we are ready to resume our journey to that Man who is deserving of us.

And just as we are one step into moving on . . . here comes Mister! Why? Why now? That’s always the question we ask ourselves when he arrives again, with the lame “I’m sorry, I was wrong” speech, and the oh-so-sincere look in his eyes (I’m sure he practiced it in the mirror). We sit and listen to his story about how he thought he needed to be free to get with homegirl (and her homegirl). He tells us that at the time he didn’t realize how much he was hurting us and now he knows that we’re worth “so much more”. ( we’ve all been there before).

And for just one minute we want to believe he’s changed. That he learned some kind of lesson while he was out there in the world, doing the tango with that chick we used to call “friend”, oh and that chick he knows we can’t stand, the one he told us was just his friend.

Then we remember that conversation we had that night when told us it’s “just not working out”. We were confused because we thought what he said just that morning was that he loved us.

And now here he comes 6 months later, just when we’re starting to really open up to the new man who’s been making us smile. The one we can’t quite let inside yet, because those old scars haven’t healed completely.

He’s trying to get back to the front of the line that is our life. Trying to take back those words he said when he was trying to explain why we just weren’t “doing it” for him anymore. . . He’s trying to make us give him back our hearts. . . Give him back the trust we put in him when he wasn’t trustworthy. . . Give him back his girl. . .
but we’re no longer that girl.
Now we’ve grown into a woman who knows her true worth.
Remember that childhood phrase though,
I’m sorry but, “No backsies”
You can’t have me back.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Mascara & Eyebrows

In my constant (losing) battle with acne, I've decided to enlist advice from the experts (mainly friends and family). To be honest I've tried it all from racial (black) soap to antibiotics and in the end acne always prevails. Today (well actually yesterday) I've decided to turn over a new leaf. As suggested I will drink water (yuck), reduce my fast food intake (I'm starving) and you guessed it. . .give up makeup. Don't get me wrong I'm not a four shadows on one eyelid kind of girl nor do the specialists at the mac counter call me by name, but I'm not comfortable leaving the house without concealer, mineral foundation, blush, mascara and eyebrows. . .need those brows. Recently I've been informed that the combination of my daily routine and my cookie monster appetite could bring all the bumps to the yard (not to mention blotchiness and dark spots). As I sift through the the contents that are my face, shedding tears as I toss the foundation, concealer, and blush (in my makeup bag. . .you didn't think I was throwing it away did you?) I find myself looking in the mirror. Sarcastically I greet my bumps, "Hello Mr. Leftside Acne. How's your wife? Slept in separate beds last night I see. She's chilling on the right side with the dark spots". I so desperately want to taser him with acne medication and concealer but I resist. He's a stubborn little thing. "Hello blotchy skin. I'm sure you'll get a lot of attention today. I know how you love it". After a few more tears (yes I cried. . .I'm only human), I gathered myself and drew the best eyebrows man has ever seen. That followed by one single, lonely, coat of mascara is all I have on today.

Say a prayer and pass me a biscuit (with extra gravy).