Friday, May 30, 2008

Badu BIC

"i don’t want to introduce too much of that right now. i don’t want Gwen Stefani stealing my shit."--Erykah Badu a.k.a. Lowdown Loretta Brown

There are a lot of chicks frontin out there who know better, but this is real, authentic, beautiful female insanity.

I went to an Erykah Badu concert several years back, and it was easily one of the best concerts I have ever been attended. She is so authentic and off-the-chain, you have to love her. I hope you read her Essence article (she covered it a couple months back). The pictures were gorgeous and as always, she had some gems for the article. What was most impressive is how she's raising her children. She seems like an awesome--albeit strange and atypical--kind of mother. Wonderful example of a Black woman living authentically and unapologetically.

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Throwback BIC: Stroke You Up

"do you mind if I stroke you up/do you mind if i stroke you down/all through the night/til your body's tired..."--Changing Faces

Quiet as it's kept, R. Kelly (currently on trial for videos that, ironically, could give your computer a virus) is the Diddy of the Nasty R&B genre... He loves to get random women singers and craft careers for them with absolutely no longevity whatsoever. Aaliyah was an anamoly. Where is Sparkle (other than testifying against him), JS, Changing Faces? Conspicuously not on the radio. In any case, no one can argue that the man can't do a sexy single, and this record was no exception. The BIC can be found in the fact that it's produced by one of the biggest DICs we all know. Enjoy!

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Blanket Statement

"where my girls at/show them that we like that/sexy way they does that..."--Beyonce Knowles Carter

Ground-breaking news for my next boyfriend: I like to talk it out, I need the heat on and spooning is mandatory.

Chick flicks, however, are optional. They're better with the homies, anyway.

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Daily DIC: So Good

"the president said, 'you've got to vote your conscience.'”--Scott McClellan

Well, well, well. This just goes beyond my wildest dreams. George W.'s former press secretary not only made his mama proud by writing a juicy tell-all about the lies and scandal that the Bush White House has projectile vomited over the past eight years, but he's also saying that he's "intrigued" by Barack and considering voting for him in the general election. In case you missed me, this is the best kind of crazy.

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"don't take it personal..."--Monica

Guys, it's just really not about you. Sorry.

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Tuesday, May 27, 2008

BIC Rule: Assassination Is Not A Punchline

"you got me/speechless..."--Beyonce Knowles Carter

Notice I've avoided touching this issue, even though you know I was all over it last week. Apparently, Fixed News Network contributor and conservative journalist Liz Trotta is using Hillary Clinton's crib notes that in the '08, "assassination" is the new "no bitchassedness" or the moniker of a hot new club. Whether or not Hillary meant her statement in the context in which many people took it, Trotta definitely knew what she was saying. She is definitely in the running to be Keith Olbermann's "Worst Person" this week.

Disgusting video after the jump.

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It's Not Easy Being the HBIC

"you still got it girl/don't you know that you still got it..."--Jamie Foxx

So, apparently Oprah's foray into politics via her endorsement of Barack alienated Republicans and Hillary supporters, her Eckhart Tolle pushing offended fundamentalist Christians, her South African girls school offended those who think she should use her billions boosting American education, and her sponsorship of Rachel Ray's bomb of a television program offended everyone.

Now her ratings and magazine circulation are slipping (even though her show has been--and remains--Nielsen's #1 program for the past 471 weeks). Oh, well. If ever things really fall apart (and I highly doubt they will), no one can say she didn't get while the getting was good. She can drown her tears in soymilk and chunky mushroom soup in Montecito.

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Throwback BIC: Anytime Anyplace

"skirt around my waist/wall against my face/i can feel your lips..."--Janet Jackson

1994. Janet. janet. Need I say more?

Nobody does el pene quite like the BIC ladies (all that energy has to go somewhere, after all). Similarly, nobody has ever done sex on wax quite like Ms. Jackson and we love her for years of providing a soundtrack for our extra-curricular activity. While she can sometimes take it a little too far and get plain nasty, this cut hit just the right note.

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How Deep Is Your Love

"tell me who joined us in the bed last night/don't look at me crazy/it did not feel right..."--Tamia

I. The Accusation

II. The Proof

III. The Remedy

IV. The Clean-Up

V. The Consolation or The Consolation

It's not just your imagination. Don't let him tell you you're crazy!

Trust me. And don't say I never gave you anything...

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Sunday, May 25, 2008

Alone Again, Naturally

"i've looked at love/from both sides now/from give and take/and still somehow/it's love's illusions i recall/i really don't know love at all..."--Joni Mitchell

Looking back through my old photo albums, I realize I categorize time periods based on three things: where I was living, what I was wearing, and who I was loving. When I look back at old pictures of the early part of this decade, I always notice that I'm living in DC, wearing tight clothes and short, blonde hair and head over heels for "the love of my life". In some pictures, I look so sad, and it's all because of the ups and downs of falling in and out and in and out of love with him, and in other pictures I am positively glowing because he has me on top of the world. When I look at pictures of me over the past year, I live in Los Angeles, my clothes are still tight though my hair is long and black, and the spectre of romance has a mischievous gleam in my eye. But if anyone took a picture of me today, I would look back on it to see that for the first time in years, I am completely without any of these emotions. For the first time in years, I am a blank slate. A blank slate with a load of [often crippling] emotional baggage, but a blank slate nonetheless.

Jokes aside, within the past year, I've officially said goodbye to three men that have each meant a lot to me for different reasons. One was "the love of my life" that turned out to, well, not be; another was a beloved old flame I'd thought might one day turn out to be "the one" that found love and, more recently, fatherhood; and the last was a refreshing but new addition that just simply didn't work out.

It's a lonely place to be when you stop wanting what you had, stop needing to have what you want, and you're left with just yourself and what you do not have or want. It's weird to have no one to think of in the quiet moments and no one to share your free time, even, and sometimes especially if, you're a fiercely independent woman. Faced with the silence of having no one in your life, you're tempted to go backwards, to begin the "what if" scenario parade with all of your past loves, but they just don't fit anymore. So you're kind of left to deal with the fallout of your own personal choices, which have resulted in many tears and sleepless nights, but which without you wouldn't be headed where you're headed, which is probably someplace beyond your wildest dreams.

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Friday, May 23, 2008

The Daily OMG

"there's a whole lotta ass back there honey/you better start kissin it darling..."--Diva Avari

Now, normally I wouldn't do this, but uh...I could not resist. It's clearly BIC; not sure what else it is, and even moreso not sure whether to laugh or cry. Video after the jump.

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Thursday, May 22, 2008

Ego Trippin

“a broad that don’t love me don’t love herself…”-a guy I used to know

The other day, a man told me something about myself that, for once, had [relatively] nothing to do with being “crazy”. He informed that I have an ego, otherwise known as a high opinion of oneself. I felt my cheeks get a little red, but I didn’t respond because, as usual, the writer in me takes a minute to formulate comebacks for damn near everything. So I said nothing. But looking back, I wish I had. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to tell him how hard-won my “ego” is, how many years it took me to fully see how brilliant, talented and beautiful I am. I wish I’d had the words right then to sweetly let him know how all society does to women is make them question their intelligence, their capabilities, their looks, how during the course of every 24 hours, there is something self-esteem defying for every girl. I wish I’d told him how living in LA and working in the entertainment industry either makes or breaks you, and the girl that feels better about herself, more grounded, and like a better person on the other side is blessed.

As the quote above conveys, someone I used to know when I was far too young to know better used to tell me that a girl that didn’t love him didn’t love herself. Of course, I later discovered this to be untrue. However, the little saying stuck with me, and while it’s hilarious to me, it’s also real talk. And it’s the reason I feel like a guy that doesn’t get me, doesn’t get it.

Just saying.

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Daily DIC: Usher's "Here I Stand" Album Review

"i've given you every bit of the man i am/i know at times it wasn't pretty/but it was all i had..."Usher

I’m speaking to a whole generation of women who have come of age on and with the relentless entertainer Usher. Those of us who’ve been listening since the beginning could not believe Confessions, his 2004 diamond-selling album, which played like the most amazing night of love-making after years of “nice and slow” foreplay. From the “damn I messed up again” to the “just trust me because you’re so sexy” themes (real BICs understand how that makes no sense and all the sense in the world simultaneously), the feel of Confessions was like the freshness and dripping sensuality of a new relationship with that man you barely know but just can’t get enough of. The feel of Here I Stand (HIS), Usher’s first new studio album since ‘04, feels aptly like where you are in that same relationship four years later. As usual, he tackles the ballads, the baby-makers and, of course, the uptempos that show off his mind-blowing mastery of the eight-step. His voice is as velvety as ever, his tone is as clean as ever, but if Confessions was a sexscapade with your new-found love jones, Here I Stand is date night with babydaddy.

To those who say it’s unfair to compare Ursh’s latest LP to the exceptional success of Confessions, part of me is inclined to agree. However, Confessions is such the flawless pinnacle of his career that it’s difficult to speak of Usher and not constantly reference it. All the work he did before Confessions was pretty much made obsolete by the precision of the album, and it’s fair to say that all the work after it could be affected as well. And it’s hard to listen to another new album without reminiscing about when Confessions itself was brand new.

All that said, it’s only fair to allow a performer as talented as Usher space to grow as a human being, something he’s most certainly doing. On a personal note, the past four years have married him off and seen the birth of his first child. Usher is more of a man than ever, and who could begrudge him the happiness that everyone deserves? But his growth, while well-deserved, tends to make HIS rest too heavily in the monotony of monogamy.

The intro track to the album begins the sentimental trip into the world of HIS, but segues into the #1 single (and banger) “Love In the Club”, which definitely starts the album with a highly-anticipated ass smack. But the lip-biting debauchery of finding a corner in the nightspot quickly turns into falling asleep naked watching reruns of Martin when we’re introduced to what is supposed to be the grown and sexiness of “This Ain’t Sex”, a record in which the lyrics are modern but the arrangement veers towards the adult contemporary that even the soul and modernism of Usher’s vocals have a hard time overwhelming. “Moving Mountains” is a melodic and welcome taste of more traditional Ursh, and “Trading Places” is a soothing lullaby with a heavy bottom that definitely gets you out of your clothes, but a quick mental comparison to the masturbatory melodies of yesteryear (think “Can U Handle It”, “Do It To Me” and “That’s What It’s Made For”) makes these new tunes feel like premature ejaculation. To add insult to injury, an uptempo “What’s Your Name” solidifies the album’s ‘more sugar, less spice’ cornerstone and makes you feel like your man left you hot and bothered running to the drugstore and came back too tired to put it down.

Fortunately, HIS's track arrangement is as well-structured as possible, dividing the album into two distinct parts. Although by and large the beginning of the album lacks the seamlessness of his previous work, there are plenty of glimpses at vintage Usher in the second half. If the beginning is standard love-making with your man, the second half of the album is a reminder of why, even if the sex can sometimes get predictable, you still only want to be with him. “Prayer For You”, an ode to Usher’s 23 chromosomes, Usher Raymond V, is a stark reminder that a sex symbol is now somebody’s father. Sweet, yes. Startling and possibly ill-placed, yes and yes.

It’s clear that Usher is not content to spend an entire career boosting sales in the prophylactic industry; he really wants to be an artist. The best thing about being in a long-term relationship is the comfort and love it breeds, and this is not lost on the new Ursh. “Something Special” is so sweet and old-school it literally makes you smile; the lyrics play back like a love letter and overall, the record is a reminder of the fact that although many others try, nobody has more of an updated MJ vibe than Usher. “Best Thing” smartly features Jay-Z, who always seems to add a little poignancy to the situation. Here is no exception as he brings in the track with the lyrics “I mean, even grass grow babe/seeds become plants/boys become men”, and Ursh chimes in later with “no more miscellaneous chicks…actin like a jerk/woman I been to church” before adding the obligatory lyrical apology for running the streets and actin a fool for so long. And for all the sexy charms of Usher’s anthology of work up to now, “Before I Met You” is exactly what she’s been waiting to hear, exactly the way she's been waiting to hear it.

It’s not all guns and roses, though. “Love You Gently” falls flat, like your dude trying to get some after hesitating over the answer to whether or not you gained weight; “What’s A Man To Do” goes a step further, veering dangerously into album filler territory, painfully foreign terrain for Usher. But “Appetite” jams fluidly and does a hook like only Usher can as he reveals the constant struggle to maintain the strength of the relationship with his true love while there are still so many women tossing draws his way (for the record, he keeps his honor…at least lyrically). And “His Mistakes” reveal a seriously grown man and his seriously grown perspective on love, and the introspection and compromise necessary when you really care about someone.

The final track, “Will Work For Love”, is the kind off allegory Usher has done well in the past (“Superstar”, Confessions; “Icebox (Remix)”, and even this album’s own “Appetite”), but the cut’s overwhelming sentimentality completes the album much like it started—slightly sappy and disappointingly corny. But before he finishes you off on this note, there’s “Lifetime”, which is a very grown-up and very sexy highlight of everything Usher does best from arrangement to the range of the vocals’ shadowy rasp to the lyrics (“don’t think I’m talking crazy/yo mama and my mama want some grandbabies tonight…”). But the title track, “Here I Stand”, is Usher’s best offering. When you hear the kissy melody over the beautiful, tender instrumentation that fuels old-school classic R&B, you realize this new version of Usher just might grow on you. It’s quite the transition from where he was, but where he’s going may not be so bad after all.

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Throwback BIC: Love Shoulda Brought You Home

"baby/if you cared anything for me/then you woulda been sincere/and i wouldn't be in tears..."--Toni Braxton

Raise your hand if you couldn't believe this chick when the Boomerang soundtrack dropped. I didn't know a damn thing about love bringing anybody home, but I sure wanted to after this was released. Featuring Mary J.'s "Not Gon Cry" as Throwback BIC the other day got me thinking about how tight movie soundtracks were in the 90's, which got me thinking about Boomerang, which is arguably one of the best movie soundtracks of all time. This song was Toni's debut, and here is she is, old nose and all.

Finding this video led me to so many great Boomerang scenes, and I would be remiss if I didn't treat you ladies to the cross-marketing excitement of this scene with Halle, janky quality and all.

The slap looks like it felt great, but it's the forehead shove that's truly delicious; in fact, I would love to do that to a certain someone right now. Bon appetit!

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Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Paris Goes to Moscow

"i want to come down from the ceiling, into chris brown's arms..."--Kira Plastinina

I bet you do, and what's more, I bet you will.

MTV is going to have a ball with this Sweet Sixteen.

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Throwback BIC: Not Gon Cry

"i would stop breathing if you told me to/now you're busy loving someone else..."--Mary J. Blige

If I had had a 12 year-old daughter when Waiting to Exhale hit the scene, she would not have been allowed to read the novel. As for the film, we would have had to have a special "mother-daughter" day to check that out, as there's plenty to explain so that a)her view of men wouldn't be completely tainted and b)I could cover her eyes and pretend she knew absolutely nothing about sex during the racy parts (we all remember ole boy--better known as "the daddy from Soul Food--banging Whitney out on the side of the hotel bed). But regardless of the hindsight I've achieved, my fast behind did both.

I can honestly say that Waiting to Exhale was the first time I felt the pain of being a woman, even though I was years from womanhood when the film was released. As with most black nineties cinema, the soundtrack was a beast, but this Mary single was by far the definitive radio hit and the general standout on the album. It gave us an anthem, no matter what brand of pain we respectively had going on. Recently, my cousin said "you know how we [black women] do it; we go home and break down and do our sobbing and stuff and then we pull it together and go back out like nothing's wrong".

Mary J. Blige got famous off of this dichotomy--the fact that although we often have the most to cry about, we refuse to let the tears flow. And so it is with this single: whether or not you've ever felt that old familiar sting of heartbreak or disappointment, you could always experience it or something eerily like it in the raspy gravel of Mary's alto that always seemed to, ironically, cry.

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Monday, May 19, 2008

Throwback BIC: So Gone

"what she do/i do better/what she do/to make you love her..."--Monica

This song's BIC cannot be denied--and it doesn't want to be.

We had never seen Monica quite like this--so inarguably vulnerable yet completely gangsta, and certainly never in lingerie and dripping wet in the rain. After spending years as the "Just One Of Dem Days" post girl of b-girl attitude, this was her sexy debut as a true BIC--and we all felt her. Just a note in case you weren't clear: if there's police or jail time involved, it's automatically BIC.

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The Upside of Anger

"when your mrs. right is always mrs. wrong..."--Musiq

We spend an inordinate amount of time talking about the "bad" guys and the "types" to avoid. We've all gotten those email chain forwards going on and on about Mr. No Commitment, Mr. Lying Scumbag, Mr. Unsure About His's all so 2007! You know I'm an eternal optimist, and as such, I've decided to pick out some pluses to what we normally consider to be red flags to run.

I'm basing these gentleman on men that I've known and would run five miles without stopping to avoid getting into a relationship with. However, I understand that sometimes it gets real and you just need someone there. So if you don't mind ending up like Zoe Kravitz in the "I Know" video...then I'll give you the reasons you're looking for to proceed with the dead-end relationship you're craving.

Types You'd Normally Avoid But May Now Give A Chance

Mr. Constantly Engaged

Many women ask "what's wrong with a man who's been engaged four or five times and never married?" Well, my dear, this is what's called a serial monogamist. He probably falls in love as often as you ovulate and doesn't like the bed-hopping lifestyle. Thus, he'd rather ruin one woman's life at a time. Now, typically this would be a negative, but one thing is crystal clear: the man is fully capable of [some type] of commitment. Be careful how you pray.

Mr. Talks About His Ex Constantly

Society drills into us how jealous and catty women can be. We secretly all hate each other and begrudge one another happiness. Crazy talk! This world is all about divide and conquer, and the lines are clearly drawn us against them. If you happen upon a perfectly good man who waxes rhapsodic about his lost love with his ex, just remember that another woman is being thought of in a positive way, which should make you happy and joyful for her. Plus, it proves that another lady has succesfully gotten into that last frontier of his heart. So....there's hope for you yet.

Mr. Can't Stop Talking About What He's Gonna Do To You...And Can't

Everyone loves a dirty talker. Words are power and power is sexy. Unfortunately, there are a pleuthora of gentleman out there who have words for days and nothing to back it up. True, when you actually get it on with them it's like watching the minutes change on your digital alarm clock, but the bright side is that their vivid imaginations and fantastical scenarios can be put to use in your next relationship. They're also at least subconsciously aware of their inferiority and may try to make it up in ways of which you definitely approve. Wink.

Mr. Control Freak

Some men are obsessed with running your life and your world. If you're an independent thinker like me, this is a huge red flag. However, I encourage you to embrace this man. Ask him straight out if he wants control of your life. If he insists that he does, in fact, want to run your ship, immediately begin faxing scanned copies of your most pressing bills to his email account. If he wants to pick the restaurant, order for you, tell you what to do and insist you take his advice, then he can just take all the responsibility of your life and everybody wins.

Mr. Loves The Drank

Ahh, nothing like an alcoholic in the morning. Men who drink too much can often be mean, rude, vile and irresponsible. However, they're terribly fun at parties. You might cop one of these around holiday season to stunt with during your party rounds. However, just remember you'll have to adopt the Cinderella schedule--drunks' charms often wear off around midnight.

Mr. Mama's Boy

What can be wrong with a man who loves his mother? Of course, we tend to get nervous when he talks to him mom on the phone all day on the way to see her, feels comfortable being present and having a conversation with her while she's in the shower or on the toilet, and references her in absolutely everything he says. I, however, encourage these relationships. There are nothing but wonderful things to say about a man who treasures the woman who brought him into the world. And once again, he's clearly capable of commitment.

Mr. Hasn't Grown Up And Has No Immediate Plans To Do So

There's nothing wrong with a man in touch with his inner kid. So what if he habitually skips work to play video games and calls his friends from the dinner table to talk about music videos? He's fun and he always has great weed and plenty of malt liquor (yum!). Plus, if you do anything illegal ever or your credit score looks like a pre-experiment SAT score from Flowers for Algernon, he so won't judge.

Mr. Needy

He calls constantly, cries more often than you do, and when you're in bed you always have to hold him. But you must admit he says the sweetest things and is always buying you something to make up for not being the man you really need. Stick it out and you might get a nice vacay out of the situation.

Mr. Spread Incredibly Thin

So this guy nails everything with two breasts and a lady part. After checking out all his tests, just enjoy the fact that he probably knows what he's doing. If you're into that sort of thing, that is.

This is to be continued. There are so many types to avoid embrace and so little time...

(Disclaimer: this is very tongue-in-cheek; please do not run out and get some ex-con and tell me it's my fault when he cleans you out).

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It's Not Enough The Fetus Eavesdrops

"so you're havin my baby/and it means so much to me..."--Jodeci

Since my grandmother smoked like a chimney and threw back the highballs en masse in the 40's and 50's while carrying her children, I think I can make a few calls on my Sidekick. Plus, I think there needs to be a variable for the child that is properly whooped into submission and is too scared to have behavioral problems.

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Lemme Upgrade You

"With the notable exceptions of LinkedIn users and venture capitalists in the Bay Area "friending" everyone on Facebook, married men are not hanging out on social networks. Married women, however, are joining social networks in droves. In fact, women between ages 35 and 50 are the fastest-growing segment, especially on MySpace. "--Auren Hoffman

Because quietly, many women are always looking for the upgrade.

However, let it be reiterated that I do not personally support romantic relationships bourne of Facebook, MySpace, LinkedIn, Yahoo Personals or even (FaithMate gets a pass for obvious reasons). Maybe it's just natural resistance, maybe it's because my spirit is at least 30 years older than me, but either way I'm still stuck in the 80's on this one...

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This Might Hurt A Little

"adultery/that's what they call it/when you're married..."--Toni Braxton

Even though HRC has pissed me off several times this year, I don't wish this level of discomfort on anyone.

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Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Can We Talk

"she wanna talk it out but/ain't nothin to talk about less/we talkin bout freakin out/then maybe we can work it out..."--Kanye West

We already know that men think we talk too much, or that we always want to talk, or we don't talk at the right times, or that we try to make them talk too much. I've explained how much I hate being a "girl" and consequently a "nag" in relationships, so much so that even though I've ended about four relationships in my life, I've done it face-to-face once. Me personally, I'm a fan of the disappearing act and the ultra-effective, childish body language and silent treatment as primary forms of communication (and now, but I'm aware there are mature ways to talk to men. I've actually been a lot better in the past year about employing some of them, but give me your opinions for the sake of discussion. What are some of your tried and true methods of having a very necessary conversation with a man? Any secrets? I've got one, but I'm not telling. Then again, if you know me at all, you're already with me.

Make it BIC!

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Daily DIC: Kwame Clinton

"i don't whore around on my wife...i want people to understand that I would never disrespect my God, my wife or my children."--Kwame Kilpatrick

Forget Hillary Clinton. At least, for the moment. Let's take a look at the great state of Michigan (and not for the reason you think). I'm talking about local politics now. And God help you if you have to move to Detroit. It's any wonder if they've been watching the spectacle that is the national presidential campaign season at all, with the freak show they've got going on right in their own backyard. Kwame Kilpatrick, a young, relatively handsome young man with an attractive family, a great education, and a mother in national politics (more on her later), was the youngest and first Black to be elected mayor of Motor City. A golden, hometown boy, Kwame was celebrated nationwide in the vein of an up-and-coming Harold Ford, Jr. Instead, he's crashed and burned somewhere around Marion Barry. And he has escaped the venom of this site long enough.

This man had all the opportunity in the world in this position to catapult himself to the top in politics, but he has instead managed to mar his two terms in office with (and I'm not joking about any of these items): a raunchy, frat-style booty party in the Mayor's mansion, in which his ghettofabulous wife, Carlita, is rumored to have returned home from vacation in the middle of and raised holy hell; a dead stripper that performed at said party whose violent murder remains a mystery, but whom was shot in her car when she began running off at the mouth about her performance at the shindig; severe misappropriation of funds, including the purchase of a fire-engine red Navigator truck with city funds and a $9,000 vacay for his family, also on the city's dollar; and last but not least, a steamy affair with his chief of staff, documented for the world to see in exchanged text messages, which he vehemently denied for years (see quote above). Of course, he was lying. So, as you can see, Kwame's been busy.

Now, he's been asked to leave office nicely and given several hints that it was time to pack up, but he has insisted that this "mistreatment" is racially-motivated (of course, most of the city council and press are [painfully] Black) and that because he's been called a nigger "more than he ever has in his entire life" in the past few months, he deserves a pass. Over the course of his service to the city, he's had his defenders. His mother, a congresswoman apparently drinking the Ignorance Kool-Aid with which Detroit water faucets drip, even hopped on a dais to remind the city to stay behind her civic-minded spawn. His wife, who evidently fancies herself the Beyonce of Motown, has stuck by his side, although one suspects she kicks him--hard--on purpose in bed all night. Last but not least, his secret lover and former chief of staff--just as hood as the other two women in his life--isn't giving up any [true] information on the man her texts demonstrate she was pulling to be babydaddy, either.

And now some key citizens of the city of Detroit would, finally, like to kick him as well--to the curb. And much like a national figure I won't speak of, he's singing an encore of "And I Am Telling You" in response. Well, at least HRC has one thing going for her--even though she and her husband have to contend for many a scandal, I can say one thing for she and Bill: at least they don't have text messages to prove it.

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Throwback BIC: Four Page Letter

"i'm sending him a four page letter/and i enclosed it with a kiss/and when i write him he better/get it on time..."--Aaliyah

I don't want to say too much because I get a little sad over Aaliyah. Not much to say; she's such a crazy performer that the video speaks for itself. Of course, the song is mildly BIC, as well. What do you have to say in four pages? I bet they were front and back, too.

So, have you written ever written a four-page letter? What did it say? Keep it hundred!!

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Tuesday, May 13, 2008

When BIC Is Clinical

"when i went to get ect they're telling you 'shock treatments are no longer brutal. it's a walk in the park; they're easy'...but then they handed me the diaper. i knew it wasn't going to be a walk in the park, because the diaper implies...a lack of control."--Liz Spikol

So, we're proud of BIC around here. We celebrate BIC. Some people laugh, but we shrug them off. BIC is a celebration of freedom. Being crazy is o-kay. Brakes. Joining our lovefest are some women celebrating being clinically insane. It's call the "Mad Pride" Movement, and apparently, it makes our beloved BIC look like black-and-white television.

Think men run from your text message addiction? Consider how hard it must be to get a date coming off of electric shock therapy.

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Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Go Into The West Virginia Biscuit Spot

"I have a much broader base to build a winning coalition on. [An AP poll] found how Senator Obama's support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans, is weakening again, and how whites in both states who had not completed college were supporting me."--Hillary Rodham Clinton

For kicks, HRC's iPod playlist: [Black America] You're so Vain, Lucky (Britney's so misunderstood), You Don't Know My Name, Never Can Say Goodbye, Suddenly I See, If That's What It Takes, Let's Wait Awhile (Remix), Bag Lady, Single White Female, Crazy, It Ain't Over Til It's Over, Not Ready to Make Nice, She Will Be Loved, Flashing Lights, Ex-Factor, Fatty Girl (Bill played this in the car one day and she actually liked the beat)

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Where In The World Is Carrie Bradshaw

"she gets carrie fever/but as soon as the show's over/she's right back to bein my soldier..."--Jay-Z

I really need to understand how you can get angry about being named "Unsexiest Woman Alive" and wear this organism hat. Maybe she's lashing out. Bygones.

I forgive, because, as promised, now begins the obnoxious coverage of the SATC movie's travel to US theaters on May 30. Can't say I didn't warn you. The London premiere was yesterday, and ignoring the plant on Sarah Jessica Parker's dome, looks like a good time was had by all.

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The Breast Is Yet To Come

"she's been degraded/exploited..."--Jill Scott

I'm admittedly feeling a little misanthropic today--and I'll preface this with the fact that some smackers are more welcome than others--but doesn't it sometimes feel as though life is an endless cycle of people trying to get their mouths near your breasts?

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The Fierce Urgency of Now

"and i don't know what to do with myself/i don't wanna be with nobody else/i just think about you/think about us/think about how much i miss you..."--Mariah Carey

You wake up feeling slightly rested, but disoriented. Yawning, you reach for your phone. Damn. It's only 2:15. You get up and use the bathroom, get back in the bed and close your eyes. You don't really get too far back into sleep but when you reopen your eyes, you're convinced it must be at least 5AM. Nope, 2:44. You sigh and stare at the ceiling. Wonder what he's doing? He's probably sleep. Nah, he's probably out in the streets partying...or worse, sleeping in some other lady's bed. He'd be well within his rights, of course; who are you to deny him his good time? You're not a part of his life. But you can't stifle the anger you feel creeping up. The unmitigated gall of him to be out living it up, or at the very least, sleeping peacefully in his own bed, while you scroll mindlessly through your PDA.

Of course, you could call. If he's asleep, he just wouldn't answer. No harm, no foul. If he's awake, he still might not answer, but you could always tell yourself that it was because he was asleep, so you're safe. Of course, he also might answer, and then what would you say? You have no idea what to say. The last time you spoke wasn't your shining moment. What could you possibly have to offer the situation now? And really, what's changed to warrant you contacting him? Has he changed at all? Given any thought to your serious concerns? Probably not. What a joke. Men never change and don't care about anything. Well, that's not fair to say that because some men do change and care about a lot, but all in all, you should just try never to change a man or make him care about anything, anybody will tell you that. You didn't want to change him, though. You liked him the way he was. You just needed more from him. More that he was totally capable of offering, by the way. Good Lord. Honestly. Like getting blood from turnip. But, maybe he just didn't want to give it to you. But why not? Doesn't he know how amazing you are? Who could miss that? It's now freezing in your bedroom and you wrap yourself in your comforter, tucking it underneath you to generate heat. Why is it so cold? Then again, you guess you have your faults. Sometimes you border on an episode of "When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong". And sometimes, you cuss like a sailor. And your breasts sag. They do. Yeah, it's not that bad in a bikini, but naked? Orangutan. He's probably looking for someone with perky breasts and a constantly sunny disposition. But you're so ridiculously smart. And funny. And your legs are so long and your ass is just beautiful. He said so himself. Maybe he's spending the night with some Mensa comedienne with long legs, a beautiful ass and perky breasts.

Oh, well. You're still gorgeous. And cool. An ambulance goes by. Wonder who's in it... Your mind drifts back to him. Oh no! Maybe he's in the ambulance! Maybe he's been hurt. You should definitely call. You never know these days what could happen. Why would they be going by your house, anyway? Well, there is all that construction on the freeway and they might have had a detour and wouldn't you regret it if you missed out on the chance to help him in his hour of need? But then again, what could you really do? Go down to the hospital and make a scene? It would be like some ridiculous outtake from While You Were Sleeping, and you are not Sandra Bullock. Hmmm...if you were a movie star, who would you be? Definitely not Sandra Bullock...but maybe Halle? No, you can't imagine dry humping Billy Bob Thornton--although nothing about that scene looked particularly dry. Whatever. Gross. Mind erase. Back to him.

The thought occurs to you that he might be lying in his bed thinking about you. Maybe he's scrolling through your old text messages, wondering whether or not to call you. You roll your eyes at how desperate you've become. Now you're imagining that he's thinking of you while you're thinking of him? Ridiculous. Only happens in Lifetime movies. Well, then again, it's not unheard of. But it is unlikely. But then, how would you ever know if you didn't call him?

Wow, the last time you were together he looked so sexy. You loved that shirt. You wanted to rip it off him and let him take you in the bathroom at the restaurant. Too bad there were so many unanswered questions and you couldn't give it up. According to "the rules". Not those "rules"...those rules are stupid. Your rules. Which are really a far more abridged, hood version of the patented rules. You really wanted to. Have sex with him, that is. You know you made the right decision, but there's no denying that if he was here now, you probably couldn't fight it. Now that he's gone, it's easier to be good. Which is a great reason why he's not here. But what if he was awake, and you called, and he wanted to be there?

Your phone slips out of your hands and you realize your palms are not only sweating, you're breathing like you just ran a 5K. You should definitely call. What is there to lose? No, you know what? You will not call. This is always the problem. Put the phone down. Willpower, broad. Get yourself together. Have a little self-control. What's the matter with you? You're good at self-control with everyone else, every other man. Why not this one? What's so different about him? He's just another dude, just another man. Not only that, but he broke your heart. So he's even worse than every other man. He doesn't deserve your time. Maybe you should just masturbate and go to sleep. Only, now that you've thought of him you don't want to masturbate because it will just anger and depress you for not having the real thing.

Hmmm...speaking of masturbating, you've been meaning to call Ash and find out what kind of cream her cousin was talking about in the comments on the sex toys post on her blog. Maybe that would be better than that janky vibrator you had last summer. Maybe he would be better than that janky vibrator you had last summer. Oh, he would definitely be better than that janky vibrator you had last summer. Except last summer, you didn't need that janky vibrator because you had him. And he was definitely so much better. Things were better, then, too, all the way around.

Now you've finally forgotten about getting off because you're crying. Great. What time is it? 3: 20? This is like a sick joke. You're awake, crying, at 3:20 in the morning. And you have to get up in like four hours and fifteen minutes. The tears start out real slow, just a little trickle. It feels good. Maybe this is good. Maybe this is good for me, you think. Then, out of nowhere, the torrential rains come. Now, you're sobbing. Like, rib-hurting sobbing. Where did this come from? Great. It's 3:25 in the morning and you're sobbing. And you have to get up in like four hours and ten minutes. Well, at least you've forgotten about the sex--and him for now--because you have to worry about how to keep your eyes from looking puffy and bloodshot in the morning.

Tomorrow's gonna suck.

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Monday, May 12, 2008

Throwback BIC: Work To Do

"sometimes it seems/boy i'm neglecting you/i'd love to spend more time/i got so many things to do..."--Vanessa Williams

Way before Wilhelmina Slater and way after the Miss America debacle, Vanessa [L.] Williams was pretty fly on the music scene. I guess this song is pretty grounded in reality and thus not incredibly BIC, but the dancing and the 16 bars spliced in were certainly the result of questionable judgment.

The quality of this video is not the best, but unfortunately, those breaking copyright infringement laws can't be choosers.

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Daily DIC

"respected highly/hi mr. o'reilly/hope all is well/kiss the plaintiff and the wifey..."--Ludacris

One more reason to dislike creepy Bill O'Reilly, and yet one more giggle at his expense.

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Another Daily OMG: Divorce BIC

"the only cruel behavior i've ever done to that man is make him have skim milk in his cappucino. and i did sneak wheat grass once into his freshly-made vegetable juice. i loved and adored him!"--Tricia Walsh-Smith

Forget Emily and her trifling betrothed. Tricia Walsh-Smith is the new role model for divorce, BIC-style. Between Emily and Tricia, it appears that when it comes to ending a marriage, humiliation is the new black. Highlights listed after the jump.

Highlight #1--Video 1: 0:50--ruthlessly discussing the details of her pre-nup and her awards upon her husband's death WITH her husband, in the midst of a divorce.

Highlight #2--Video 1: 1:49--relying on tarot cards to decide her fate when she clearly needs prayer and segueing into the sordid details of their non-existent sex life.

Highlight #3--Video 1: 4:02--calling and telling his secretary to ask him about the condoms and porn she's found in spite of his heart condition that interfered with their sex life.

Highlight #4--Video 2: 0:41--declaration of love.

Highlight #5--Video 2: 1:50--"everyone's saying get a job. i have a job." ummm...okay.

Highlight #6--Video 2: 3:00--"shame on you!"

Highlight #7--Video 2: 3:34--the cards again.

I will add that I recently saw her on a nightly news program saying that people could think what they want about her, but she's "not going to be a bag lady for anyone". Well, all right then. Go get 'em, Trish.

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The Daily OMG: My Mom Said I Could

"my mom said I could..."--bad little boy in commercial below

Is it wonderful or just too bad that we live in a country that would never air this?

Seeing as how I find it hilarious (minus the reptile...yulch), I'm gonna go with too bad!

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Sunday, May 11, 2008

Dear Mama

"i'll always love my mama/she's my favorite girl..."--The Intruders

my beautiful late mother, Bonita (affectionately called "Bonnie" by everyone) with me in 1984

Moms make the world go round, so it's only fitting they should have a day to stunt. Happy Mother's Day to the women who are mothers and the ones who will be mothers. In the meantime, give it up for my mama, who was hands-down the best mother I know.

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Saturday, May 10, 2008

Do I

"guess what I did today/those were the words i said to you/it was last may/don't know the exact date/in my hand there was a ring/then you told me/that you loved me/more than anything in your life/so i asked you/would you do me/the honor of being my wife..."--Case

Last year, an email chain was circulated detailing an Atlanta man's elaborate proposal to his girlfriend. He moved in with his sister for almost a year to save money for this event in which he rented out ten suites in downtown ATL's Ritz-Carlton and gathered their friends and families to have a whole "Proposal Night". He took her to all ten suites, a different group of family members/friends in each one, and had one person in each room read a special letter to her. He had organized candles and gold-dipped roses in each suite, and the floor of every room was sprinkled with rose petals. After the letter was read in each room, the group prayed over the girl and her impending nuptials. It was sweet. A little much for me, but sweet nonetheless. I wonder if, when she was a child, she ever envisioned or hoped for a marriage proposal like the one she received. Maybe it fell short of the dreams she had...or maybe it exceeded any vision she'd ever experienced.

Romantic little girls always have a scenario in mind about how they would like to one day be proposed to. Me, personally, I was fast--I always dreamed that my boyfriend would do it in our apartment with candles everywhere. Friends of mine dreamed of helicopter messages, baseball games with messages on the scoreboard, expensive restaurants. There are a million little romantic ways to do it, and each girl's own idea of her future proposal speaks volumes to who she is . The one thing they never think about, though, is that when somebody asks to marry them, they might not want to.

One thing little girls can't grasp that grown women are all too aware of is the fact that there is far more to life than unbridled passion and romance. Normally, I'm speaking from the other side of this arugment--that people don't pay enough attention to finding that ridiculous, breath-taking love that makes your arms break out in goosebumps and your legs cross. But there are areas of fulfillment to cover when considering the "perfect" partner, and love, while a huge portion of the pie chart, is still just a portion.

Two years ago, I briefly dated a man who was older and had been married twice before. He already had two children, one from each of the marriages, and was looking to have two more in his third and final (so he said) marriage. He was kind, spiritual*, talented, smart, successful, was incredibly financially secure, attractive and he liked the things I liked. He was also crazy as a gooney bird. He stayed strapped and had an over-the-top paranoia complex. Even though I had no worries when I was with him, I was always slightly on edge. He constantly tried to test me on the marriage question: "so...if I proposed like, next month, would you say yes then?" and "okay, well, what if you just came and lived with me for awhile, do you think you'd be ready in like six months?". After a particularly terrifying incident involving a pistol and a random passerby he was certain was "trying to test him", I was forced to end all talk of marriage by breaking up with him. Our whirlwind relationship ended in a series of voicemails on my service all starting with "Baby, please pick up the phone...". Never in my little lady fantasies did I think I'd ever look a man with his list of pros in the face and decline a life with someone who adored me and offered every little bit of security I could possibly imagine. But as a child, I never thought the first person to ask me to marry him would be a psychopath, either.

I have three friends getting married this year, one from childhood, one from high school and one from college. So, the idea of marriage has been on my mind. It's not something that I'm looking to do right now, but it occurs to me that at this juncture in life we have to be a little more seriously evaulating these men. Seriously evaluting their station in life, their potential, how much and how well they love us, what kind of parents they'll make and how well they can manage our respective brands of BIC. Even though most of us are still a ways from any broom-jumping, I do wonder, both for myself and my friends, about the next time I'll get the opportunity to answer the big question...and especially about the time I get to say "yes".

I realized relatively recently that I'm actually aging (for years I thought it was impossible!). Not that I don't feel young. But I realize that that little furnace in the bottom of my biological clock has a few embers burning. So, it got me thinking that I need to be preparing myself for a relationship again--a seriously serious one this time. I also realized that I needed to figure out what kind of man I really want and what I have to offer him. This led me to, at the beginning of last year, sit down and craft a 52-point list of what I'm looking for and a 50-point list of what I have to offer. I recently posed the question to some of my homeboys via text "what kind of love from a woman makes you want to be a better man?" I got some interesting responses. One said a lot: "a focused, confident woman with a good upbringing, thinks outside the box...someone that makes me feel that if I don't stay on my A game, I'll get left behind" and another said simply "faith and trust". I got "someone who never makes me feel weird even if she thinks I'm independent" and another just said "cool, fine".

Since this topic interests me so right now, I pose a question now to you ladies...what is your ideal man like, and if you see yourself getting married in the future, how would that ideal man ask? Be honest!

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Throwback BIC: A Rose Is Still A Rose

"she never knew what hit her/you steal her honey then forget her..."--Aretha Franklin

I know you remember this one. Who knew, in 1998, that Aretha could still rock out like this? We thought we were in for years of "It Hurts Like Hell"s when she dropped the beat on us thanks to resident super-BIC Lauryn Hill.

The record is fundamentally about being humped and dumped (and clearly our little preview into the consummate BIC anthem LP Miseducation; "it's been three weeks since you been lookin for your friend", indeed), something with which most of us have at least a little experience.

I have to say this has never happened to me quite as violently as in this video (gotta love Hollywood), as in dude just took it and flagrantly bounced with a peace sign, but I think most us are familiar with "tossin and flossin tryna fill the void heartbreak brings".

I was moved to put this up because even though I think it was geared towards women a little younger than most of us are, I think the message is still applicable and something we all still have to be reminded sometimes.

As for the BIC in the video, Elise Neal in those two pigtails is la primera cosa. Aretha sitting on that chair like the queen of the projects in that getup straight from Chico's is priceless. And where in the random, offbeat R&B chick hell did everyone else in the video come from? Are they even on the track at all? Is it supposed to drive home the point that just about every girl has been through the hell of getting played? Is this an organization or effort they were all trying to get behind? Or did Lauryn just call hella people on the morning of the video shoot to come down and support and these were the only four that showed up? I have a hard time believing the person who wrote this script actually penned "SCENE: Faith Evans, Changing Faces, and Amel Larrieux surround Aretha playing piano, clapping". I'm also fairly certain Amel has never called up Changing Faces to kick it.

In any case, great message, great song. Always good to see the Been-Around-the-Block set bestowing some knowledge on the young lasses out there.

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Taking Our Turn At Bat

"i was cool with no commitment/let me take that back/it was you so i was wit it...."--Destiny's Child

Hey now! is no more. Well, actually it is--you can still use that url to get to my site. But what's most importantly is that you ain't gotta mess with blogspot no more.

Nope, now you can go directly to This is a proud day for BIC. She is no longer the side chick; she's official!

Thank you to all my subscribers for being subscribers and for all you other "readers"... make SURE that if you are visiting regularly, you subscribe (near the top of the righthand sidebar). It's like going to church and looking the other way when the offering plate comes your way. That ain't right.

Thanks for ridin with me, ladies, and please continue spread the love and the word!

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Thursday, May 8, 2008

Can't Knock the Hustle

"to quote the all-time classic film The Color Purple: I's married now!"--Mariah Carey

Y'all know I don't usually touch this type of tabloid-sensation mess, but it's just too good. It's too good! I know I'm late but I just have to have this documented on this site as major BIC history. In fact, next February, this will be one of the BIC History Month stories.

I consider Mariah the quintessential R&B BIC, and on the occasion of her wedding, only this site could truly honor her decision to marry 27 year-old, goofy-behind Nick Cannon, who after his kissy relationship with Christina Milian and subsequent engagement to Selita Ebanks went bust, was apparently still desperately looking for love. Well, he found it. All 5'9", water-based implant D-cup, 5-inch stilettos, $300 million of it. Understandably, he's upped his game. He pulled out the big guns this time around: Selita's rock was 12 carats...Mariah? 17. Christina, regrettably, never got anything but tears. (Sadly, did we ever care?)

As for the Mrs., Mariah's BIC usually includes losing it over unrequited love or being done wrong, but it appears she's lost it over unconditional love and being done extra right this go round. Not that I'm knocking it because they actually appear to be in love or something very much like it.

However, being that this is a celebration of insanity, I must point out how deep the BIC goes in this situation (not that there's anything wrong with that):

1. The huge "Mariah" tattoo on Nick's back that I pray he never has to have removed.

2. The smaller but equally hasty "Mrs. Cannon" tat on Mariah's lower back (that she had done 3 weeks before the ceremony when they'd known each other a little over a month).

3. The fact that they've known each other less than 8 weeks. I understand true love can't wait but...fall weddings are beautiful.

4. The fact that they're planning to have children. Which is a little scary. In my recollection, Mariah's always said she didn't really want children. All I ask is that they try this thing for a year before adding crumbsnatchers to the equation.

5. Lesbian BIC Da Brat was there, skinnin and grinnin with the Cannons. No surprise there and further, that really doesn't have anything to do with anything, I just wanted to say "Lesbian BIC".

Other than that, I wish them the best. Mariah actually looks elated and Nick looks pretty damn excited himself. I just hope this thing lasts, because if it doesn't we'll not only have sad sob ballads for days from Mrs. Carey-Cannon, but there will be hella MC-bashing on Wild'n Out, and you know I can't take that.

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Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Gutter Politics

"maybe we should ask Barack if he's comfortable or needs another pillow..."--Hillary Clinton

"Yes, Senator, I did call and hang up last night!! Do you forgive me?"

Train of thought: comfortable...pillow...bed...Oval Office...Monica...not getting any since 1988...pillow....bed...Barack...Barack...Baraaaack...

Oh, come on. I know I'm not the only one who's thought Hillary secretly wants to get it from her opponent! Am I?


(sidenote: on a scale from 1-10 of great sounding names to yell out during sex, Barack's an 11, wouldn't you say? Throw the Obama in there and it's even better. Just observing, Michelle....just makin some jokes, girl, that's all you, all you....)

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Throwback BIC: Trippin

"baby/there's one thing i'll mention/me and her/see she's no competition/so tell her/that you're through with her/and you love me/and that's totally..."--Total

Aha! I know if you see Total as the Throwback BIC, you expect me to throw "Can't You See" up, but can't you see that this is clearly the more BIC song of the two, and probably the most BIC song of their career.

It's harmless until we get to the second verse and find out that the dude we're "trippin" on is totally in a relationship. By the way, I've really been trying to diversify the videos as a reminder that BIC belongs to women of every ilk, but I can't get off the 90's R&B. It's just too good!!!

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If You Don't Have Anything Nice To Say...

"hello lover..."--Carrie Bradshaw

We will all get along famously if you accept that the better part of my May is going to be dedicated to this, this, and this. Read; enjoy. Thanks.

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Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Cojones and Testosterone

"if [Senator Clinton] gave [Senator Obama] one of her cojones, they'd both have two..."--James Carville

This will be brief; notice I've been kind about keeping my election coverage to a minimum (mostly cuz I'm totally burnt out on the whole mess), but a recent conversation brought up some questions for me about Hillary Clinton's supposed "cojones" and "testosterone". In fact, the men in her camp are running around talking about her "balls" like she's Mr. Marcus. Yeah, so one could say Hillary grabs her nuts. One could say. True, she's hung on much longer than a lot of people would--male or female--undeterred by unfavorable poll numbers or large crowds of people booing her. She's silver-tongued and quick with the smooth-operator lies to save her hide and she's not one to shy away from incendiary language about crippling other nations who probably have some secret horrendous way to mutilate this country, either. Now, we're even treated to the revelation that homegirl likes to toss back the shots like one of the boys. So, Hillary Clinton has balls the size of Texas. Or does she? Maybe it's my politics speaking, but who doesn't see more estrogen (read: BIC) in her behavior than any male hormone?

Before I go on, I must acknowledge, as a woman, the difficulty of being taken seriously by men. It's not always easy. There's still an innate, while often stifled, disbelief within many men that women truly possess the competence to handle jobs as executives, and oh, say the presidency of the United States. I don't dispute that. But there is a limit to how far a woman should go to prove herself "tough". Because of course, in doing this, you lose some of the intrinsic femininity that makes our leadership and power so potent in the first place.

Who doesn't think Hillary Clinton is "tough"? Who really thinks she's a softie? Certainly not I, and if you need any further proof it's in the fact that her tears made front page news. Hillary's been run through the mud by the press for being a proponent of women's careerism, tackled by the Republicans over every little itty bitty thing she said or did for over fifteen years, her daughter's been called ugly (SNL 1993 anyone?) and uglier (John McCain knows he was wrong), and her husband just cannot resist that good oochie coochie with just about anybody willing to have a go (and, quietly, even possibly someone who wasn't). As I've pointed out before, through all of this she's kept her chin up and above the fray and been the very portrait of a "tough" woman. And let's face it, if the fact that you dared to shed a tear is a NY Times headline, then we should all be just a little afraid of you.

The thing is, at this point, Hillary is no longer acting "like a man". She's acting like a bitch, or a bitchmade man if you want to go there. I'm not saying there's a "typical" way women behave and a "typical" way men behave, necessarily. Both genders have the capacity for testosterone and estrogen-driven antics. Hillary, who often operates on her respective reserve of testosterone, has let her estrogen take way over--and is still trying to push it as pimp juice. Well, I don't buy it.

I hate to point out the obvious, but 'manly' men, the ones with the "cojones", don't go around announcing it and asking everyone to look down their pants at their gigantic member. You know that guy, the one of few words with the mean swagger? The one that when he does speak, it's poignant and meaningful? That's the kind of man that makes me think he's packing. They're the ones that are so comfortable in their manhood that they don't feel the need to constantly grab their nuts and assert themselves in a macho way. They just are. For years, Mrs. Clinton operated exactly like this. She just was Hillary Rodham Clinton. At this point, though, Senator Clinton (if she must be referred to as a man, which seems to be the going consensus all of a sudden) is acting like the man who constantly feels the need to tell you how much he can benchpress, or that he drives some ridiculously overpriced, limited edition car, or how much he makes, or some other inconsequential information that makes him feel like a big, strong guy. Hillary is the snooty, insecure little dude that thinks that his worth is tied up in how many petty little slaps he can dish out on any given day. She's the man at which we all roll our collective eyes because there was no point to what he just said other than to try to gain attention and admiration.

The thing is, I do admire Hillary, or I did. The old Hillary was tough. But the toughest thing would have been to admit being underdog way back in January and restructure her campaign to address her own shortcomings, not to begin race-baiting and Karl Rov-ing the other candidate. Real men, real good men, make tough decisions like that and deliver one hard, smooth, confident punch. Bitches start waving their arms around like Whitley Gilbert. I'll give you five seconds to guess which one Hillary has become.

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BIC Retirement

"i'm going to miss playing with sex toys..."--Sue Johanson

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Period BIC

"every month, it is woman’s fate to face the abyss of time and being, the abyss which is herself..."--Camille Paglia

So, after much hesitation and deliberation, I've decided to give Ro's theory about 7-10 days before a cycle being the start and finish of our greatest BIC adventures. Two things led me to this conclusion. Of course, the first is my own behavior--I can't count back as far as Ro (who has recently examined the last decade--via emails--to conclude that her BIC is PMS-related), but I can certainly say that the past couple of years of BIC falls into Period BIC territory. This was again exhibited in a particularly hasty fashion on my part last week, which, come to find out was not too long before my inconsistent cycle decided to show up. The second thing that led me to this conclusion was the behavior of a dear, dear friend who, on Saturday, exhibited more clearly BIC behavior than I've seen in her since 2002.

My initial hesitation wasn't that the theory was stupid or unrealistic, it's that I feel a lot of women are quick to attribute any behavior deemed outlandish by men (and some other women) as "PMS". Everything is not PMS; sometimes, things just need to be said or done, and as women we shouldn't have to apologize for wanting our most basic needs and concerns addressed. On the flip side, men are actors and initiators and women are reactors. And a lot of times our reactions are hormonal, it's just fact. So, I won't bore you with the minute (and embarrassing) details of my recent BIC (it involved an email but that's as much as I'll divulge), but I will regale you with a little anecdote about one of my dearest friends who spent a healthy portion of Saturday's beautiful afternoon sitting outside of a restaurant waiting for her...umm, boyfriend (?) to come out. It's an old story: he's a commitment-phobe to the nth degree and she's a serial monogamist since the age of 15. He does everything right when they're together and everything wrong when they're not. Well, on Saturday, he was wrong to tell her that he was working at home and couldn't be bothered to have lunch. So, of course, when she stopped into their favorite Saturday haunt to have a burger without him, she was a little shocked to find him there.

Surprised to see him, as his last text had dismissed the possibility of them meeting as a distraction, she said "I didn't expect to see you, I was going to have my lunch here."

"And I'm having mine," he snapped, returning to his meal (sometimes a DIC is really just a dick, by the way).

Since apparently, I'm the queen of all things BIC amongst my friends and the go-to for a green-light to behave like a maniac, she began texting me furiously as she returned to her car, waited for him to exit and then proceeded to begin following him to his house in plain view, both crying and laughing the whole way. Although her behavior seemed suspicious, it was not until I spoke to her later after the action had died down that she confirmed that she was only days from her period. Further confirmation, I'd say. All of this compounded by the fact that when he made a sudden u-turn to dodge her, she called his home voicemail and left an "MF"-laced diatribe. Very unlike her. Either they'll never speak again or he'll never miss a Saturday lunch...time will tell.

In any case, I kicked it with a homeboy on Sunday and we found ourselves in a discussion about male/female interaction. Like many men, our conversation deteriorated to that place where he sneered that women just like "blame everything on their periods." According to him, having had a period for well over a decade, I should be "used to" and "ready to deal with" what my period entails (his response to my recent BIC behavior, no less). First of all, it isn't true that we blame everything on our cycles. But second of all, so what if we did? What men will never understand is how freakin uncomfortable a period can be, and that it's not just an inconvenient occurrence. It literally affects your hormone levels. And that's just the bargain basement version--I happen to have a condition that makes it even worse than normal. We know what happens when pain sets in--reason goes out of the window. You can't deal with pain and with reason, at least I can't (and I won't). So, if my buttons happen to be pushed before I get my monthly dosage of Naproxen in my system and I have to react from a place of hormones and discomfort, the ish might not be pretty. And none of us should apologize for that. Now, apologizing for the behavior is another story...I have decided that I think I have to apologize for my BIC behavior--again. Even though it was directed towards a DIC, I think it's possible I went a little overboard. I blame Aunt Flo, even though this is becoming an old story.

And seeing as how the old hag is always making me look so bad, I really wish she could help me eat all of this damn crow.

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Throwback BIC: One Woman

"i'm only one woman baby/treat me like a lady..."--Jade

Oh, Jade. They were never the flyest group back in the day, but they held their own. After my tirade on being treated like a lady yesterday, this song came to mind and lo and behold, it was online.

While the record doesn't jam half as hard as the "Just Kickin It"s and "Hat 2 Da Back"s of our youth, it has a great, timeless message (and the obligatory vocally questionable acrobatics employed by several 90's girl groups). Plus, who doesn't hear the hint of BIC creeping into the lyrics here? I definitely hear a tiny threat and a smidgen of a whine, combined with some emotionally-charged rhetoric. All the stuff we like. Enjoy!!

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Monday, May 5, 2008

Throwback BIC: Just Kickin it

"every man wants a woman he can treat like his homie/take out on the ave and just chill..."--Xscape

I'll start by giving this song its props: there was no bigger hit, in my opinion, in 1993. Still in elementary school, I recall many a sleepover teaching ourselves the choreography from the video and arguing over who got to be Kandi. Going back to the BIC, which is where we always go, I'll venture to say that while we all see where the ladies were going with the whole "every man wants a woman who cooks, cleans, is always ready to get it on and is always ready to ride out" theme that was so popular in the "hat to the back" 90's, it's just totally unrealistic.

It was this type of thinking that got a whole lot of broads' feelings hurt back in the day (and to this day, to be honest). Yes, you should be your man's friend. We all know this. You should have the fun and trust and openness of a friendship. But what no one could fit into the lyrics of this song or any other one is that you have to establish the respect first before the homie status. Too many women decided to let dudes treat them like a "homie" and not a woman and ended up watching said dudes slide into a relationship with a woman who demanded to be treated like one. Just saying...

In any case, enjoy the video. I did so much I watched it twice.

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