The Whole Female / Male Thing

Greetings,

To my fellow females out there in this world ( a world that claims to be a man’s world, uh…no it is not), I have just about had it with holding my tongue on the subject of how mad I am about the BS that we feel we need to take to keep a man.

Now, at the risk of offending some but hopefully encouraging others, I need to sound off about how truly tired I am of hearing what females put themselves through to get, keep and then ultimately do anything so he won’t leave you.

And men, please do not take this the wrong way. Believe me, after you read this, this will help you get a quality female so you don’t have to play these silly little games.

First, to get a man is not that hard. They want anything with a pulse. Well, they say they have standards, yeah right whatever.

Anyhow, take for example, the Peacock world. The female Peacock has so much game, we can learn from her. What she does is when she sees a male Peacock and he looks delicious and worthy of her precious time, she will strut her feathery self over and holla at him real quick. But as she’s walking, she’s strategizing. At first all you see are the dull brown feathers that ain’t got no shape, no color and just look sad. However, those feathers aren’t there for nothing. See, they are there to assist her in her pursuit of a male Peacock. The colors of the feathers have meaning and are significant in attracting just the right male Peacock; And vice versa. His feather’s be ugly too, at first. Anyhow, once her train is fanned, her beautiful feathers and all their colorful, blue, green and yellow glory, the male Peacock is so mesmerized by the colors and their brightness and bigness that he has no choice but to get at her. Part of her plan, but his too.

Actually, in truth, the male Peacock is the one who performs a dancing and screaming ritual, and fans his large ass feathers to get the female Peacock’s attention to allow him the opportunity to mate with her.

And this is how it should be. Dance and sing brotha, dance and sing.

One small note, the colors of the Peacock’s feathers is an optical illusion (um, hum I knew it) based on the angle in which the feathers are being viewed. Just like being up in the club, huh?

Furthermore, it’s been discovered that the feathers of a Peacock really have nothing to do with the success rate of mating; and the key to attracting a female truly lies in the Peacock’s ability to vocalize prior to mating with the female.

Hum, sounds about right. And totally explains the whole pillow talk stuff. Pillows used to be made of feathers eons ago (actually mine still are; bought them in Germany). Well, enough of that scientific theory and correlation of Peacocks to man. I’m trying to keep y’all interested in reading further. But we must look at science, the animal kingdom, and history to understand man.

When Nelly sang, “shake your tail feathers” this is what he was talking about.

By the way, the male is called a Peacock and the female is technically called a Peahen. I refer to both as Peacocks especially to make and demonstrate my point.

Anyhow, my experience hasn’t been all that great in the romance area, in the recent past. I did have a 16 year relationship that was secure, stable, honest, pure, wholesome and meaningful. He played NO games at all. I didn’t have to worry about dumb shit like, bullshit and silly little boy games. He was str8 honest and had NO male hang ups (well he didn’t display that crap during the relationship). But it got boring. So, when it was time to part ways after those wonderful years of traveling and living in Europe and exposing me to things other types of men couldn’t or simply didn’t, he went one direction and I went in another one. A direction that led me almost to hell. And I’m serious about that. If that is what hell is like, I need Jesus real quick like.

Now because I was bored with simple, wonderful, secure, pure and honest and decided to go towards, lyin’ ass, unstable, broke, jobless, my car needs rims, beat, TVs, an alarm system, a starter, a fan belt, and ignition switch, and calibrator, oh and some Sean John Jeans to go with my Tims pimp/hoe type shit, and thought it was cute at first.

It was cute until I was asked for cash. The End!

Fast forward.

I mean, I know I’m not hurtin’ (in the face) and I know I can have an intelligent conversation with a man (if he reads) and I know that I can cook (my Tacos, Red Beans, Rice and Cornbread, Fried Chicken Wings, and Chicken a-la-King are legendary) so why is it always something that has nothing to do with some real shit?

Perhaps, because I called them out on the BS; Like I’m not supposed to.

Let me explain why writing this is so necessary.

It was Wednesday, July 15, 2009. And I was invited as an Exclusive “List” Guest to The ESPN ESPY Awards after party at The Kress in Hollywood. I invited my friend Sonia and we got there around 10:15ish. There was already a line full of nothin’ but females, from Chaka Khan look-a-likes, to Beyonce wanna be’s to…“is that Kim Kardashian?” And the outfits. From florescent highlighter yellow and pink colored sweater dresses, to the wonder Bra, to the stripper shoes and bright (white-out) French tip toes. After the Rainbow Bright night, man, I had to question my appearance.

My hair was cute, I wore an “almost” micro mini off the shoulder black dress that had the look of a moth (I thought it was classy, frankly) and my $350 Snake Skin Sling Backs. That’s it. Simple, right?

Too simple! When I walked up to the wanna be somebody bouncer and told him my name and mentioned the list, I got dissed. All of us who were supposed to be on this so called “Exclusive List” were being selectively selected.

Basically, you had to be in a florescent mini sweater dress, have Jessica Simpson or Beyonce type extensions and cheap stripper type shoes that cost no more than $60. WTF!

I thought this was an ESPN ESPY Awards After Party not a Lil Wayne, Soulja boy jump off, groupie concert.

Man, after my friend Sonia and I finished ingesting hair that was stuck in our throats from standing in line; we bounced and went to The Greendoor down the street where Larenz Tate hosted a party. It was a different vibe, different crowd and different motives. Well, perhaps the motives were the same; just there wasn’t a selective approach which I appreciated.

This is my point ladies. You really don’t have to go to extremes on any level to get noticed. Best believe, look halfway decent, and you will get noticed. Make sure you have “something” to talk about. Weed out the non-readers. If you start talking about the economy and he walks away talking about he gotta go to the bathroom, or bruh all of a sudden gotta make a phone call, with his rude ass, then you already know he don’t wanna talk.

Your intelligence will keep him interested. Your ability to entertain and cook for him will keep him there. My only real hard to make suggestion (I’m cringing as I type this, and I hear the nails on the chalkboard) is try not to nag that much. I’ve learned that this is a cardinal sin. They hear noise and white noise at that.

My point! For the men, I know the feathers matter and conversation has nothing to do with it, but can y’all at least make it a point to check every angle of those feathers, not just the one you think shines the most before you reject the feathers that will keep you truly warm.

Yes! This was random but I felt compelled to get this off my feathery chest.

Thanks in Advance!

The GunnAr Management Group
Los Angeles, CA

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