Monday, August 18, 2008

Memory Mondays ... Blast from the Past Vol.3 The Roommate...

---- Originally distributed 30 October 2001 ----

Hello,

It is good to be back in the seat writing to you all again. It took a while to write this one because of lack of material, but I think that it has all come together. In this issue we will take a look at the roommate.....

The Roommate.

The Pot:

Those of you who are new to the list do not know that I hate one of my roommates. He is not very socially acclimated and just plain pisses me off most of the time. Well it all started with raisins. He has these raisins from Iran that he eats that look like little yellow roaches. I asked him where he got them and he said “my mom sent them to me”, so I was like ok. The problem is the damn things were all in my sofa and I asked him not to eat on the sofa anymore so he has been pissed at me and Jim ever since. What bothers me about this guy is that he has a horrible voice, in fact he sounds just like Grover from Sesame Street with a slight Middle Eastern accent. I will say this much, he is scared of me after the other day. In the past few weeks he has broken a glass (no big deal), burned one of my pots blacker than James Brown, and refuses to fill the water filter jug. We will start with the pot. He cooks this Iranny shit that smells like feet and Ben Gay everyday. It really never bothered me until Jim (the cool roomie) came to me asking where his pots were. I was like, “shit I dunno, they are not my pots”. So Jim was like “I will ask Ali.”, well it goes without saying that the Mexican in Jim came out like a FOOL. Apparently, Ali threw away the pots of Jim’s after he burned them, but never said anything to Jim about it until Jim asked him. Well this is where the drama ensues. Jim started cursing in Spanish and I was sitting there on the sofa eating popcorn and watching like I was at the movies. It was okay until Jim who is about 5’4” started to push Ali who is about 6’2”, at this point I was laughing but knew I had to be the ambassador of peace in this situation. So I am standing between the two with my popcorn and laughing. So Ali knocks the popcorn out of my hand and kinda nudges me out of the way. TICK TICK BOOM!! The room fell quiet and I turned to Ali who was walking toward the kitchen and I noticed my pot on the stove. I said, “uh Ali, you cooking in my pot?” He said, “uh yeah!!” but in that kinda way like why in the hell you asking me your dumbass you can see it is your pot. So I say, “just don’t burn anything”. He say “okay” and all is well. Well about 20 minutes go by and the Iranny cuisine is burning like a the South in the Civil War. I can smell it in my room (1 floor up). As I descend down to the kitchen I see him scurrying to get the shit out of the pot, only one problem. It is burned on to my shit. Now those of you who can remember the motto that I had in college and subsequently when I lived in Dallas, “you are welcome to come over, just don’t jack with the shit is all” Well Ali had jacked with my shit and at this point I was only slightly pissed.

As I asked Ali about the pot he said, “what is the big deal it will wash out”. “True”, I said, “but you have no respect for other peoples shit so you clean it and replace Jim’s pots too.” Ali says, “you are ridiculous they are just pots YOU ALL CAN BUY NEW ONES.” Now Jim is downstairs and he is looking at me like, you gonna let him talk to you like that. Reminiscent of Sprint PCS, all I really heard was “YOU ALL” and not much else. SO, I was like (in my most ghetto sophisticated way) “you all, who the hell is you all. I aint you all, Jim aint you all. You(with finger pointing and a pause), YOU ‘you all’. We don’t eat that nasty smelling shit, ‘you all’ do. ‘You all’ the one that has got the whole damn house smelling like the damn Gaza Strip that is ‘you all’. So ‘you all’ can clean my pot, ‘you all’ can buy Jim a pot, and as far as I am concerned ‘you all' can kiss my black ass.” Well Ali kinda looked startled and stepped back. So Jim and I both thought it was about to be on, so I looked at him, like he was a visitor at church you know that --“what, what you gonna do now, what”-- look. All he said was he was going to think about it. Well that set me off again. I said, “You all don’t have much to think about” (now as I am talking he is walking over to his sofa and slams a book on the top of my tv as he is about to say something), “‘I’ do not have to buy you or Jim a damn thing”, at this point it is "Showtime at U Street" and I am ready to get with it. I said “you, you, you gonna do what?”. Now those of you who are not black or who have never been around black mothers do not quite understand the significance of the repeat. When you have something repeated to you by your mother you are in trouble, so I was hoping Ali knew the significance. Well he does not. He responded by saying, “ I said, (first mistake lies therein you never repeat to a black person what you just said by starting off “I said”, and he said it much like the 7 year old female cousin rolling her eyes) I will think about it.” Well Jim jumps in and says well you are obligated to blah blah blah, a whole bunch of lawyer yaya (Jim is an attorney). I was "Jim, like bump that shit". I don’t care what he is “obligated to do, i am telling him what he is going to do”. At this point I come to him with some ghetto reasoning. I say “Ali, this is all I have to say you don’t clean my pot and you don’t buy Jim new pots if you want to.” Now there is that phrase “if you want to” now when some tells you “if you want to” you usually don’t want to. So nonetheless, he noticed how pissed I was and he went off to his room. I told Jim that he would replace the pots and not to worry. Sure enough the next night there were new pots and he cleaned mine. Shit he does not know I will call the DOJ on his ass, and say I found some American hate letters in his room.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Kennedy Center... Sneaky Bitches...

It has been a hot minute since I have written and believe me there is more than enough to write about I have just been slacking. But, I have two words from last Friday night that warrant a complete recap...


..... “Sneaky Bitches”......





So I attended a function at the Kennedy Center called Africa Rising. It is a concert to show the beauty and talent that Africa has to offer through fashion and music. The designer Momo featured her work as did Chris Aire, but most people were there for one of 3 reasons, Tyson Beckford (I’m sorry but he is still hot), John Legend, or Jay Z. Let me state that simply, fashion show --- John Legend – Jay Z. That is all most people knew. Never mind the fact that Jascylene, Alek Wek, Tyson Beckford, and other great models were there. Trust me … it was the John Legend and Jay Z show.


Well the show started out calmly enough, there was just mischief and disbelief at some of the outfits that people will come out of the house wearing. Apparently, men’s suiting with a Lawrence of Arabia scarf is the in thing (who knew?, not me because the shit looks a mess). Couple with that this chick who had on Sally Jesse glasses, thigh high red boots, and red gloves. Where in the hell was she going? Sesame Street? AND apparently you can dress like a ho and be pregnant too. I have never seen so many pregnant women, fetus damn near out, trapsing around in 4” heels … Isn’t that how you got that way to begin with? I mean, close your legs it is drafty in this bitch, and in you apparently.


Now the show took place in the concert hall of the Kennedy Center, the same Kennedy Center where The Lion King was going on in the Opera House. Now imagine this if you will, let’s call it a-third, a-third, and a-third; one third there for The Lion King, Africa Rising (Africa focus) and Africa Rising (Jay-Z focus) respectively --- so there are 3 major entrances to the Kennedy Center and when entering you can usually tell where you need to go. So imagine DC Metro suburbanites, tourists, and others trying to figure out if the Africans there for Africa Rising were there for a show or in The Lion King, and imagine if you will how those very same folks responded to the Jay Z crowd. I will leave you be with that notion.


Now once in the show started and got rolling it was great. Nice clothing great African talent, but it was not ‘set off’ until John Legend took to the stage. He is a small gay talented man who REALLY likes himself but MAN, he can SANG!!!




- When John Legend began singing the seats in front of the group I was with were empty. They were quickly filled up bytwo groups of people one that had two of the skinniest men I have seen not in a famine relief commercial and two women. The women, oh the women one had hair that looked like dried mistletoe and the other looked like the Loch Ness Monster, codename: Nessie. Now, Nessie was a Hot Trashy Mess, she smoked Clove cigarettes, had not seen a bra since Clinton was president, and sat with her legs wide open. Top that off with her revealing purple dress (that reveal her side titties) and you have a Barney stand-in. Nessie, should have photographed that bitch hi-res, I would have gotten PAID!!!




- The other group were what we will call the “Sneaky Bitches”. They were these two younger women who were sitting in the section next to us, but further back. Now they decided they would commandeer these two empty seats in front of me. NOW TAKE THIS SHIT TO HEART, understand it and absorb it; you do not steal someone’s good seats at a concert #1, and you definitely do not steal someone’s good seat at anything JAY –Z is going to be at (or where it is a majority black folks). There is a reason they had metal detectors. Herein lies the problem with these ‘Sneaky Bitches’, they think they are slick because they are thin and kinda flashy, the problem here is they were like Khadijah and Regine from Living Single, one was cute but kinda big and the other one was just a beautiful ho, we will call her a ‘Salmon’.




Question: Scooter, what is a Salmon? Well a salmon is the kind of “Sneaky Bitch” that will do anything including swim upstream to get a man to pay her rent, day care, car note, hair appointment, nails, you name it. What is dangerous about a Salmon is that bitch will bring her own bait if she needs to, and it usually comes in the form of a small tight dress and no underwear. She is the kind of fish that catches the fisherman, HELLO!! There were a lot of Salmon out on Friday night. Ladies: If your man tells you he is going to any hip hop event with his “boys” you better have an ambush make over and take a fishing net, because trust me he is not coming home to you with all his money if he goes alone. The DC Queen Salmon will hit that shit like Barry Bonds!!




- The last but certainly not least group are the two women who paid for the seats. Let’s call them Flo and Willona (a al Good Times), these two women were older and had more meat on their bones, but you can tell that they used to be the “Sneaky Bitches” back in their day. They noticed Khadijah and Regine in their seats and did the proper thing, got the usher and had them move. They then sat down, and Flo acted as though John Legend was just singing to her in her peach pleated muumuu, and Willona well Willona needed a new bra, or a very short person to stand under her and hold those girls up. So you would think all was ok? Right, well you would think….



So John Legend finished his set with a beautiful song called ‘Good Morning’, to which I am sure Flo wet herself, because she was just too into him, but apparently she was into Jay-Z too, because when I was asked who his band was she shifted her weight (literally) turned around and said in her best Hennessy induced drawl ‘he travels with the Delfonics, you know who the Delfonics are?’ I answered yes, to which she was elated and further explain her love for H.O.V.A!! At this point Flo and Willona get up to feed the drunken monster I am sure, and they are gone up until the Jay-Z set begins…



….all good right. OH HELL NO!!!!



The “Sneaky Bitches” broke rule #1 and rule #2 AGAIN, and what is so bad they did it with the same women. When they came back to those seats I looked over and said, those are some bold bitches, because Flo and Willona are not having this. And have it they did not. Flo and WIllona came back and were not happy to see Khadijah and Regine in their seats, again. So l looked over and said ,they are about to fight….which for me means getting my fighting mind right, because I am all about breaking up a fight.



Now, women fight dirty and black women fight dirtiest. So Willona goes to get the usher again, who again, stands in front of me us and tells the ladies they need to move. Well the “Sneaky Bitches” must have had some Popeye Spinach because the Regine (the Salmon) was talking plenty of shit, all in the name of not moving (from a seat she stole, remember).. at this point my favorite song is starting.. “And the winner is…” Now Flo is dancing in the aisle and Willona walks down my row and starts talking more shit to Regine. Next thing I know Flo is back at her seat and Willona is about to scrap with Regine ….literally. Then, BAM!!! Like a gun at T.I.’s house these bitches set it off, right there in the aisle. Remember Willona is one row behind it all. They were throwing bow, they let their hands go, they did whatever you want to call it, these heifers were FIGHTING. I jump into “stop fight” mode once I see that Flo has snatched Regines hair and she almost flies over the balcony (literally), thanks to Chad she is still in the land of the living, and Willona has fallen on my boy Matt’s leg and busted up his shit. I get down to the end of the aisle and have to tackle Willona while snatching Regine’s hand off of her hair. I then pick up Willona and stand her big ass up and sufficiently quell the madness.


Now had I taken heed earlier I would have probably stopped it before it started by letting Regine know that Willona was ready to tap that ass. I noticed that when Willona came back with the usher, she was taking off her rings and her earrings. Well, bitch that is signal #1 when a bitch starts to disrobe she is ready to kick some dust, but I just thought deep inside, no no not in the Kennedy Center … alas I was wrong. To top it off the “Sneaky Bitches” ran, they split. So when security came down, Flo and Willona had to take the rap alone. Damn Shame!!! Women, that is the lesson you need to learn about a sneaky bitch…. They know how to escape everything.



And just when I thought it was over, I look back behind me midway through the Jay Z set and the “Sneaky Bitches” are back in their original seats, just having a good time.



NOW – Take this to the grave… The loudest mutha around is the one that LOST the FIGHT!!! After the show Regine talked all the way to the door about how she had to fight them bitches off, I wanted to tell her, she got her ass beat and in lucky her hair glue held up because she would have been at GW Hospital. That’s the bullshit. This “Sneaky Bitch” did not realize what had just happened, she was SAVED, because that shit was like Tommy Hearns trying to Fight Kembo, Tommy would have been dusted up.

The biggest bullshit of it all is I got Willona's cheap Rite Aid make-up on my shirt. Here is a note to you ladies. If you plan on whooping some ass or you might get your ass whopped it would be nice if you wore some extended wear CoverGirl shit, because a gay man (like myself) might let you get your ass whooped if it means keeping his shirt clean. That shit is two-ply egyptian cotton. Take heed bitches, take heed.

All of this at the Kennedy Center… Mess!!

Monday, June 30, 2008

Riding music

I have a very eclectic musical taste which most people who know me know includes hair bands, gangta rap, ballads, blues, and gospel. I think music is a good thing. When I am driving home I typically drive with my windows down and music blasting, usually singing along. So on Friday as I was driving home I was blasting my music as usual not really paying attention to what was playing but singing along.

Now I love 80s hair band music, if it is Journey, Poison, anyone like that it is me. But my iPod shuffled up some Ambrosia. It was a hot filthy mess. Me driving Big Blue down the road blasting “How Much I Feel”, which all in all is not that bad, but at Arlington Blvd and Glebe Road I was at the stop light and a little too into it at the 2:20 mark on the song I really got into it as I looked over and notice the Ethiopian cab driver was just staring at me like he was amazed. Maybe you do not think this is a big deal, but here is the song, so imaginefor yourself my black ass singing this...




Life Lesson... The Sigh and the Pause

I think we all need to learn about a few things today the sigh and the pause. These are things that I have naturally employed for years, they operate as a simple warning mechanism. A warning that you are messing with a ticking time bomb, by the time I sigh, pause, AND look you up and down, it is over.


A sigh usually precedes a noun (or a pronoun) that is immediately followed by a pause then an action statement.

Ex #1:

In an argument… (we will use the last life lesson ((calling a black woman a bitch))

Foolish man: “Shut up, bitch!!”

Sistah: “What you say?!?”

Foolish man: “You heard me, BITCH!!” --- this is where it gets tangled up and is really almost a lesson in itself, when you call a woman a bitch, and she asks you what you said, you have only one chance to right this wrong, DO NOT REPEAT the word bitch, you will die. Trust me ---

Sistah: “I know you did not call me a BITCH, TWICE?!?”


--NOW IT ALL GOES AWRY –


Sistah: “(SIGH) You (PAUSE) need to (there was your action statement) get the fuck out of my face (and because you called her a bitch twice she will give you her action statement) before I slice your bitch ass”


What is integral here is that you understand the nature of the ‘Sigh, Pause, Action Statement, followed by her Action Statement/Threat’; the only important part is the threat because it is not to be taken lightly. Women are different than men in their emotions, when they say they will cut you, trust me there is a razor hidden under that track of weave.


For a perfect example of this you need to listed to the attached YouTube clip .... around the 1:18 mark you hear a great pause,the action statement comes around the 1:45 mark. The kicker is around the 2:49 mark where she sighs, tells him what to do and what the consequence will be. PERFECT example, a perfect "10". Take note of this she starts off REAL nice until you get into her wallet, once you get into a sistahs wallet and start asking for more money, oh it is over.




Now, let’s say you do not have an established relationship with the person and you say something crazy to them. We’ll say you say something to a gay man.

Ex #2:


In a discussion…


Foolish man: “ Yes ma’am I understand I can help you.”

Gay man: “I am not a ma’am I am a sir.”

Foolish man: “I am sorry sir, that will not happen again. Ok ma’am I have your order as…”

Gay man: “I just told you I was a sir, do not call me ma’am”

Foolish man: “Again I am so sorry sir. We have everything we need ma’am and we will..”

Gay man: “(Sigh) LOOK (PAUSE) I just told you that I am a sir (SECOND PAUSE) you have zero more times to call me ma’am so (ACTION STATEMENT) you need to get it together.”


Notice the distinct difference betwixt the two. The woman, a categorically undeniable threat, the gay man a veiled bullshit threat after which all that will happen is he will has to talk to your manager. Lesson here … a gay man is not going to fight you. He is not going to do a damn thing. He will just tussle around flapping his gums and nothing will happen. So note to self… that Drag Queen yelling at you in the bar all that bitch can do is call some busted ass security to haul you out. She is not going to fight because you might snatch her duct tape.


Trust me … unlike me most gays don’t like to fight.


Now this other YouTube is with gay men and a REAL sistah, she is not having it, there are a number of occassions where she sighs and pauses, but she does not let down. Why? Because there is not a gay man on earth that can kick a scorned woman's ass. PERIOD.


Enjoy...




This is the secret to the above call. You can tell by the way she answered teh phone that she is not in a playing mood. She did not recognize the number and she is not having it. At 1:17 when he makes his threat, the whole tone changes, at that point she is ready to fight. Aside from her wierd scream laugh she is serious.


You should not toy with the Sigh and the Pause because while it may be employed in similar fashion across the country the length of time before a real negative response may vary depending on where you are. A Bronx sigh and pause is nothing like a northern Virginia sigh and pause. TRUST ME!


Understanding the sigh and the pause are integral to your livelihood if they are followed with the look up and down, well that just means you are “done”. Which is typically what I do to people, sigh, pause, look them up, look them down, then walk away. Most of you have seen me do it.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Incisors

Hey... I know it has been a minute and I know a lot of you want to hear about my trip and you will but there are some things that take precedent... Like this... 

Incisors

 

Teeth are very important in fact they are second only to skin in my book.  I would rather be blind and possibly deaf than to be missing my teeth or have a grill that is surprisingly jacked up.  So when an associate of mine lost his incisors I did not think too much of it, I mean we have 1st world dentistry here in the United States. 

 

Let me set the scene, he fell coming out of a gay bar and there was blood everywhere.  One piece of advice to those of you who go out with me; you get sloppy drunk and injure yourself, you are alone.  I will be supply you with an ambulance and then send you on your way.  What I will not do is be interviewed by the Police (proper nouned that shit) or the Press, because I am not trying to be in anyone’s public record dealing with a drunk mess. 

 

All that taken into account.  This drunk mess I know fell down the stairs and hit his face on the stair rail.  He was so drunk he walked home and did not go to the hospital until he noticed his 2 front choppers were dangly jangly in his mouth when he looked in the mirror.  This is when I noticed he had suspect friends; I mean I establish my rules up front, I will make sure you get medical attention beyond that no real promises, his friends on the other hand told him oh it is not that bad.  Where the hell are they from, West Virginia?

 

Well, it is that bad… trust me he looks a slap FOOL.  He looks like he just washed ashore from the LOST island or something.  Just two front teeth absent.  JUST GONE!!! Now here is the kicker, this happened about 6 weeks ago. Reread that – 6 WEEKS!!! Remember that 1st World Dental Care I spoke of.  Well in typical ‘run of the mill’ fucked up priority gay priority fashion he decided it was more important to go to some gay event in San Fran than to get his grille fixed.  Even better he has a temporary bridge that he refuses to wear because it is uncomfortable. ---- NEWS FLASH!!! ----  It cannot be any more uncomfortable than being able to see your tonsils when your mouth is closed, trust me.  It cannot be more uncomfy than looking at your mouth.  Now, those of you who are gay, and even those of you who are not, I need you to weigh this for a moment…. You are not going to go out and fish with paper anymore than you are going to go to a bar and try to catch some “cookie” with no front teeth.  More to the point, why in the hell are you going to be mad when people think you are on drugs?  You would have to be to come out looking like THIS!!!!

 



 

See, now that is a “hot FUCKING SHITTY PISS IN YOUR PANTS kinda mess”.  That is when you were not raised right, who does that shit?  Not me and if you are my friend and I catch you outside with your mouth looking like a bowling split, I will shoot you. Shoot you dead, it is worth prison when in the end someone will say, isn’t that Scooter’s friend; which is the exact reason I try to make sure everyone I know looks alright…   JUST MESS!! 

Double click the photo to see the mess... 

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Tina.... Bobby.. Showers... and Ugly Bitches...

New Music is Bullshit…

In a nutshell, new music is not shit. For whatever reason I cannot focus on work today J So I was just perusing YouTube and I came across of Miss Tina Turner WORKING IT !!! They just don’t do shit like that anymore. Now there are definitely people who can work it. I mean Beyonce is nice, Mary J can work, but none of them do it like Tina. Tina Turner works that shit for 8 straight minutes in Proud Mary. It is not so much the time that is the factor. It is the fact that she is singing, dancing, and most importantly keeping her wig on the whole damn time. I wanna see Rihanna do that shit.

I wanna see any of these trifling hoes do what Tina did. (Yes, I called them trifling hoes, that does not make me Don Imus) Tina was working so damn hard because she never knew when Ike was going to kill her ass. She danced the last dance EVERY night, and every night she worked that shit like the 3rd shift at Denny’s.

Now, I have to bring this up; one of my best girlfriends and her beau went to a wedding this past weekend. At the wedding there was entertainment, superstar entertainment. None other than Bobby Brown’s vocal coach. Stop and reread that shit. It makes you want to do drugs doesn’t it? Who in the hell hired this raggedy shit? Bobby Brown’s vocal coach? I never knew the muthafuckah had one. Muthafuckah for WHAT? Muthafuckah WHY?

I mean how does he introduce himself? “Hi I am Limpie McDickins, I was Bobby Brown’s vocal coach, but now I do weddings” Let me ask the audience is that a step up or a step down? I am not sure. More than that, saying you are Bobby Brown’s vocal coach is like saying you are Amy Winehouse’s Narcotics Anonymous sponsor; in other words you ‘aint done shit’ and that shit is just not cute. PERIOD.

Enjoy Miss Tina... that wig bitch!! WHAT!!!???!!!


Hygeine…

You need to shower before you roll back up in here…

Some people need to go get re-raised by my grandmother. My grandmother is the single reason I am so ashy today. My skin is so dry it doubles for the desert in feature films. She would make me shower when I thought about dirt, then after all that I had to take a bath before bed. All-in-all there were about 3-4 water sessions a day.

That said there are people who workout at lunch and do not shower before they come back. Just so you know… that is NASTY as hell. Period. No debate. You should not work out if you cannot bathe. That makes you a nasty hoe. No one wants to smell gym sweat in the middle of a damn meeting. That’s all..

The Ugly Bitch…

I am not one to follow pop culture but I love to see trash come up. For example Miss Britney Spears, ”Hottie” from Flavor of Love, and Shania Twain. Now I hope you all have heard about Shania’s man getting stolen by her best friend for many years. The problem for me was the Shania did not see it coming. The friend is ugly, that should have been the warning sign.

Here is the thing, straight girls heed this shit like a Tampax Pearl. You don’t need to worry about your best friend or your “hot” friend you need to worry about that ugly friend. That is the dangerous bitch in the crowd. Trust that bitch will be the Delilah to your man’s Sampson.

“Why watch for the ugly bitch?”, Five easy words…. SHE HAS NOTHING TO LOSE… An ugly homely bitch is ugly and homely and she know’s she is ugly and homely, so watch that hoe like you watch a skin rash because trust me she will spread her legs as fast as that rash will spread across your back.

--- DON’T BELIVE THE HYPE ----

Women are more shady than men. TRUST ME!!! I have cavorted with more partially or fully committed women than Wilt Chamberlain (and I am GAY!!). They are shady!! But their shade is often secret shade because women can keep a damn secret, men—you see men have to brag it is part of the male ego. Women, not so much. They just need the kitty to be pet occasionally and they are set.

So ladies take heed. That ugly friend you have that is tight with you and your man… spray that bitch with Deep Woods Off and give her an umbrella to let her know that you are aware of the shade she brings with her.

Trust me on that one.

Big Shirley and Captain Too Tight....

There is no such thing as big boned. Pause and re-read that. I went to the BODIES exhibit 4 times and I noticed that all the skeletons were the same approximate size, none were the aforementioned, big-boned. Big-boned is some shit a teacher made up in the teacher’s lounge one day so that they would not have children with a complex. Remember that. Big –boned means you have big meat on you bones….

Within the last few days I have bore witness people with the advanced stages of “big-bonedness”, to wit I decided I must write about it. The first we will call Big Shirley. Now “who is Big Shirley?” you may ask. She is your run of the mill, man-like dyke who probably works at Jiffy Lube and gets her hair cut at her friend’s house or the men’s barber shop; either way it is a men’s haircut. The tell-tale sign of a “Big Shirley” is she is a big woman, she is the “Huge Bitch” that is referred to in the Rob Schneider movies. More often than not she wears clothes that likely come from the men’s big and tall section at your local JC Penney or something like that.

Now Big Shirley is what some say is “big for nothing”, I mean, she is just large. But at first glance you have to wonder “is that a man?” We all have seen a ‘Big Shirley’ and some of us know a ‘Big Shirley’. More importantly we know, ‘don’t piss that bit bitch off… she will go to her trunk on you…” Just beware.

Let it be said that we all suffer from something, but some larger gay men suffer from what I like to call the “too tights”. The “too-tights” is a malady that befalls us all but tragically sticks with large gay men disproportionately. When you gain 15 pounds and don’t buy new clothes then you will likely manifest the “too tights”. Now, a fair explanation of the “too tights” is, when you can see the belly button cavern. The shirt is then “too tight”. Just because your waist was a 28” when you were 21, does not mean you need to slither into that shit at 25 when you wear a 34” waist.

I am not hating, I gain and lose with the best of them, I just try hard to dress appropriately. That said, if you can see your belly button in the mirror – AND YOU HAVE ON YOUR SHIRT – that shit is too tight; I don’t care what designer it is. Get real, and get some new clothes.

-Note to the audience, just because it is designer does not mean it makes you look thin. If your shirt says Prada but the paint on the letters is spreading because the shit it too tight, put it away. If your Burberry plaid looks like a checkerboard because the cross-hatching is so far apart, put it away. When your big pony polo shirt looks like a child riding a mouse, put it away. When your clothes are so tight they are giving people an asthma attack looking at them, put them away.

So back to the “too tights” if you need to tug on it, don’t wear it. If your gut hangs out of it, don’t wear it. It is simple really. Try the belly button test. And enjoy the 2 examples provided: Big Shirley and Captain Too Tight.