|Scattered cards that create a masterpiece.|
It’s been far too long since the last time we did this. But with the NBA playoffs now down to four teams, I guess now is as good a time as any to get back into the fold and share some of my most weird and yet at times entertaining thoughts. Before we go there though, I feel compelled to still share some NBA related stuff with you all from around the net (if you do not care for them too much, you can just skip this part).
· Rey Moralde from the No Look Pass writes a post titled NBA Combats Homophobia.
· Brett Koremenos of Hoopspeak shares his LeBron story on taking a charge.
· Phillip Barnet of Forum Blue and Gold gives you the 411 on the Lakers and the rest of the league.
· Michael McNamara explains how the proposed CBA would affect Chris Paul and the Hornets.
· Do yourself a favor and watch this video made by Ryan Schwan of Chris Paul’s play against the Lakers in the playoffs.
· Patrick Hayes of Piston Powered gives you a breakdown of the players in the draft in a post titled Draft Dreams.
Also, if you have any piece of writing you would like to share, please feel free to send it my way. I can either link to it or post up here if you prefer. Just shoot me an email at Shyne@Sbgorillas.com.
And now without further ado, let’s unlock the cage containing what you’ve been waiting for….my Scattered Thoughts.
Fake Booty Call
Someone brought this to my attention recently: women have fake booty calls. Essentially, whenever they need to feel loved, get hugged or just spoon; they have that one dude that they call that comes within the blink of an eye.
The catch? He gets no action. At all. He gets lured in every time, thinking that this will be his chance to finally get some, except all she does is lie down next to him and hug him real hard. The man reciprocates the action on the premise that it might help him empty his Pina Colada bottle, but it never happens. If this happening to you, just stop. Save yourself from the pain, hurt and embarrassment that results from getting the blueberries (you should be able to figure out that means) and just walk away. The actual term for this move and/or person associated is The Teddy Bear.
The name stems from the idea that no matter what happens, he’ll have his arms open and will be ready to provide a hug and sleep over when needed.
Everyone Loves A Stripper Story
Last week, I traveled to Boston with some friends to catch Game 4 of the Heat-Celtics series. It was an amazing game and we enjoyed every second of it (it even inspired this post on the Heat). On our way back to Montreal, we stopped at a gas station somewhere between Boston and Burlington (yes I know that’s not very precise but hey it is what it is).
My friend Money filled up and then entered the gas station to pay and get some snacks. He then came back out and informed us that Game 4 between the Grizzlies and Thunder was on inside the station and that it was into double overtime. We all got out of the car and went to catch the game. By then it was probably around 1:00 AM.
As we entered the station, there were four women there that were just checking us out. They casually told us that they were strippers and then asked us where we were from (they heard one of us speak French). Now my friend Money is a prankster; so naturally he told them we were all from Irak and Afghanistan (in hindsight, he could have gotten us killed in the wake of the Osama Bin Laden’s death, but hey we managed).
Then we told them we were from Montreal and that was that. With the game now entering triple overtime, we completely ignored them. We were extremely focused on seeing who would be victorious given the stakes. Once the ladies realized we weren’t interested, they started doing things to try and catch our attention.
Indeed, they fondled each other and ate chips from their breasts (yes, that seriously happened) and then started saying how badly they needed to get some action. After realizing we couldn’t care less, they went outside (the dude working there was so into them that he left us alone in the gas station so he could hit on them outside) and simulated as if they were dancing on the pole. Once the game ended (the Thunder won, I figured you needed that detail), we headed towards the car to leave the spot.
And then a van with some dudes pulled up at the station right as we were leaving. It was interesting because one of the ladies there had made a call to someone prior to us leaving and then out of “pure coincidence” these new dudes showed up there about an hour and a half past midnight. That’s when it hit me (the guys only realized it when I told them), those were probably their pimps or something of the sort and they might have been on their way to come take us down.
The moral of this story? Avoid strange women in strange random cities.
I’m not opposed to hitting clubs in general, but it’s just really not my thing. And on the rare occasions I decide hit one up, I am reminded of the reasons why I hate them.
Two weeks ago, I got a text from my brother asking me to show up for his birthday party at a local club in downtown Montreal. So I showed up around midnight rocking my blue Sean John jeans, a smooth red Chaps dressed shirt and some Timberland shoes (not boots).
I get to the spot, mention I’m on the guest list and then it happens. Profiled:
Bouncer: Your jeans are too baggy. You can’t go in. You have any other pants you could put on? You don’t look proper.
Me: No I don’t have any other pants, it’s my first time here and I showed up for my brother’s birthday and he’s in the VIP (at the same time I’m wondering how this dude could possibly ask me if I had other pants; like do people actually carry a back up pair?).
Bouncer: Sorry man you can’t get in.
Me: How about if I pulled my pants up?
Bouncer: Give it a try.
Me: Am I good?
Bouncer: Nope. Too bad.
Now normally I could accept the fact that my pants were too baggy because well, that’s just how I roll. However, this time around my pants were mildly too big and thus I figured I had a better shot of getting in, but such was not the case at that moment. But what pissed me off was that several guys showed up in the line up wearing jeans that were ripped.
So baggy jeans are not in, but tight ripped jeans showing off male legs are cool? I think not. And as much as I hate to pull out the race card, it came to mind then and there. Caucasian bouncer, Caucasian men with ripped pants that went in without so much as a hint of resistance while I on the other hand had been swatted at the entrance much like 50 Cent would have done to Ja Rule.
And just when all hope was lost (I stayed in line hoping that the DJ would come out and say I could come in; he was my brother’s homie), the bouncer looked my way and said I could walk into the club but that next time I should rock dressed pants.
As much as I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, I just smiled, thanked him and proceeded to enter the club and showed off my Dougie. Yes, when it was all said and done, I still taught some people how to Dougie.
The sad reality is that if I truly to wish to have fun at a club any time soon, I have to go metro.
II. Club Psychology
The dynamic in clubs is always an interesting one. Guys walk in hoping to increase the amount of phone numbers in their phonebooks while women in general go out to have a good time. That usually involves a little bit of alcohol and enjoying the music being played that night.
Things get interesting when the opposite sexes with these intentions interact. Men might try to break the ice by offering drinks, maybe get a little dance time and then make some small talk and hope that by the end of the night they have convinced the woman to give up her number. Great plan except for one thing: women understand the game, and play it better than men.
They know from the moment that eye contact was made how things will play themselves out. It’s either she is going to pimp one or several drinks out of the dude and get all of her friends to drink, or she will display some type of interest based on the dude’s looks but will have a quick chat with him to make sure he’s not a lunatic or just an overly aggressive man whore.
My point? Guys, stop thinking you run things and that your game is tight. The women have the keys to the pimpmobile, not the dudes.
Fast Lane - Royce Da 5’9 ft Eminem
Sh*t God Damn - Chris Brown ft Big Sean
Everyday - Crooked I
H.A.M. - Kanye West ft. Jay-Z
Killers - J. Cole
Kush - Dr. Dre ft Snoop Dogg & Akon
Aftermath – Joe Budden
Moment For Life - Nicki Minaj ft. Drake
Larry Hoover - Rick Ross ft. Styles P.
Pot of Gold - Game ft Chris Brown
Writer’s Block - Royce Da 5’9 ft Eminem
Red Nation - Game ft. Lil’ Wayne
Tell The Truth - Canibus
F5 (Furiously Dangerous) – Ludacris ft. Slaughterhouse
Sure Thing - Miguel
Aston Martin Music - Trey Songz
Don’t Forget Your Ring - Trey Songz
So Fly - Slim (of 112) ft. Young Juc
Ain’t Thinking Bout You - Bow Wow ft Chris Brown
She Seen me – Usher
Don’t Be Cruel – Bobby Brown
Old School Joints
Music Makes Me High (remix) - Lost Boyz ft Canibus & DPG
Checkmate - Jadakiss
I’m Still Not A Player – Big Pun ft. Joe
Made You Look (remix) – Nas ft Ludacris & Jadakiss
Public Service Announcement – Jay-Z
Porno Star – Lloyd Banks ft 50 Cent
Damien – DMX
I Like It – Harlem World
Always Be My Sunshine – Jay-Z
Stan - Eminem