Thursday, November 29, 2012

Hoe We Don't Have a Future

Hurricane Sandy has me working crazy long hours, but with my few minutes of downtime in the office I like to peruse the social sites and see what my Twitter and FB people are talking about. This morning I happened to see one of the biggest hoes I know change her relationship status to "engaged" accompanied with a picture of an engagement ring. What the entire fuck is going on? How did this travesty come to be? I was tempted to message her for the back story along with a picture of this foolhardy chap, but better judgment prevailed. (Look at me taking the higher road and shit.)

Unwifable (Un - Wife - Able)
In my prime I've smutted out a plethora of women, well let me rephrase that because I've never slutted woman they did it to themselves. Nevertheless after a certain amount of ratchet sexual exposure (especially with that double standard of promiscuity between the sexes) a chick just might be counted out of any settling down equations. All this got me to thinking of the times hoes tried to upgrade with me out their hoe lane. Ladies and gentlemen its story time with JD.

I got like 3 stories that exactly fit this situation but today I'm going just drop one...

About 2 years I'm on the train on the way home from work and I run into a girl that worked at a clothing store I used to frequent. Let's call her Tia. We had exchanged number in the past but never gotten up. To keep it 100 I couldn't even remember her name, but it was a long train ride so I figured I'd small talk it up with her. From the "Hey how you doing, how you been?" she told me her life story from the last time I laid eyes on her literally. And then she told me about her relationship.

It's so funny how her live-in boyfriend went from the love her life to it might be time to move on in under 4 subway stops. Like seriously he was the fucking man; compassionate, supportive and loyal. He walked her dog, he paid all the bills, but somehow as the train ride progressed she was falling out of love with no interference on my part. About 2 stations from my stop she was sick of his mother intrusiveness into their relationship and was ready to start looking for her own place and move out. It was crazy, I felt like I was watching her relationship unravel before my very eyes. Right as her relationship had reached it's lowest point we were at my stop and coincidently her stop too. My apartment building had vacancies, it was only 2 blocks away and my rent is cheap so I figured I let her check it out, no creep shit. Seriously, no creep shit.

A few minutes later she was in my apartment checking out closet space and writing down the contact info for my rental office. Before I even realized what was going on she was taking her shoes off and turning on the TV. Hours passed, the sun set and she was sitting on my lap facing me while I unbuttoned her blouse. I swear to all that is good and right in the world by the time she started in with the head I had totally forgot she had a live-in boyfriend (not that it would have mattered either way), but she was so free with it. The sun rose, she took her phone off of airplane mode and her text inbox and voicemail was on bath salts. She got her things together and left the way she came. I just knew this was a one and done because when she got home that nigga was going to beat her to death, wasn't any way around it. When she called me later on that day I answered the phone "Look who's alive". Tia sold the nigga some dream, he bought it and she was wondering when we were getting up again.

For a solid 4 weeks Tia was sneaking away to my spot like twice a week getting dicked down and getting ghost before the sun came up. She even drove his brand new motherfucking car to my house like once or twice with the paper tags still on it; I even had to come outside to parallel park it for her. I was cool with the situation; I felt bad for that nigga though not bad enough to stop, but bad like how you feel when run over a squirrel in the street. I mean damage was done; it's not like I could get her to unswallow my semen. Then one day out of the blue, maybe like 15 minutes after she had sucked the life out of balls she asked me "What are we doing here?" In my mind I was like "We've been on zero dates, you got a live-in boyfriend, I'm not even 100% sure of what your name is, and last but not least you're a whore ma'am; we're just fucking" I didn't say that though. Instead I replied "Huh, what do you mean?" Somehow in her whore brain she thought that she could just jump from that nigga straight to me, like I would just embrace her with open arms. I guess to her this was like one of those romance novel affairs where to the woman and the sideline dude runoff then live happily ever after. Nah. I had to let her know we were good right where we were and our thing had a ceiling and she was already on the top floor. About week later she realized on what side her bread was getting buttered on and it damn sure wasn't with me. We stop talking completely but I still wonder what makes hoes try shit like that.

This is all we will ever be
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Oh yeah follow me on Twitter @JeanDeGrate and on FB at Jean DeGrate

Monday, November 26, 2012

Are you happy or are you just happy to have somebody?

When you're single, you're exactly as happy as you are and nobody ever says "I hate that nigga so I think I'll start a relationship with him".

Almost all relationships begin in bliss. (Unless money is involved; I've seen women deal with some wild shit when the cash is in abundance). We are just going to fast forward past all that cool, happy, lovey, dovey shit. So when his ringtone was one those upbeat "so in love" Beyonce's track (insert song title here), yep we're going to completely skip that stage. The honeymoon is over, the good times are few and far between, and you're living on the edge.

Do you hate your boo?
I know women that hate the guy they share a bed with. They are seriously one argument and a pair of dirty boxers lying on the bathroom floor away from "accidently" pushing him down a flight of steps. Every conversation you have over 5 minutes always ends in a fight. You say you love this guy but does causing him bodily harm crosses your mind on a regular basis? Have you ever packed your things up to stay at your mother's house or called up some homies to see if you could lay up in their extra room for a while? Keep it real with yourself you don't really want to be there but you're still there.

Still together for stupid reasons
After the love is gone folks really stick around for the simplest shit. "Well, the lease is up March so we going to try to work it out at least until then." "You know he picks my son up from after care because he works five minutes away from his school."  "My cell phone is on his family plan and he gets a 25% discount because of his job." "He throws out the trash and the dumpster is all the way on the other side of the parking lot, ain't nobody got time to be lugging no Glad bag 50 yards to the dumpster." If you make statements that start with "I love him but..." you might need to consider getting out of there.

So why are you still there?
Don't want to start over since you had to sort through all those lames to find the winner that you no longer want? Are you afraid to be alone? Are you holding on because you're waiting for change? Fuck all that shit. Why sit there being miserable? Seriously this is the only time in a life when saying you can do bad all by yourself actually stands for something of note other than trying to duck broke men.

Let it go
Women have a nasty habit of holding on to a relationship way after the shit is over.  Don't be one of those bitches with a new born and soggy titties from a nigga you fell out of love with 2 summers ago. Don't be afraid to call it quits when the only thing that's keeping you together is the fact that you don't have to use a condom with him.

Let that shit be done and move on
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Thursday, November 8, 2012

The Top 5 Reasons I Could Never Be a Rapper

So one of my followers was getting into it with Killer Mike over one of these billions of PhotoShopped Obama/Dr King pictures and for some strange reason Killer Mike was really upset about it. I read the back and forth banter for a while then it dawned on me "This nigga won a Grammy and now he arguing with ordinary people about pictures of Obama this nigga losing". How did homie get here? Then it hit me...

1. Rappers fall off everyday B
Unlike being an athlete, singer or an actor falling off from rapping has to be the hardest. Once an athlete's career is done he can become a commentator, sports analysis and coach or get a job in the front office of some team. Singers can dial down to doing smaller venues after the records stop selling; Boyz II Men are still on tour performing "End of the Road" like twice a week. Once the records stop selling you still have your voice so you can still sing until people stop coming to your shows. Actors can go on to live regular lives with the occasionally "Weren't you Stacy in the Wood or something?" and if you say no they'll probably take you at your word as you attempt to sell them a car stereo at Best Buy. Fallen rappers woes go much deeper you can't go on to be a bank teller at PNC after winning a Grammy niggas are going to know who you are. You have no choice but try to keep the dream alive even after your tour bus turns into a cargo van and your bankroll turns into a prepaid VISA that you're only suppose to use to buy gas. Media Takeout is going to post pictures of you standing in line a Wal-Mart like they did Beanie and the world is going to laugh at you.

2. I can't go back to broke
If I'm making 20 bucks an hour I know it will take sweet baby Jesus personally coming down from heaven to get me to go back to making 10 an hour. So if I got to go from balling out of control and dressing like 2Chainz back to driving an average man Jeep Compass and shopping for my clothes in TJ Maxx you might as well kill me. I got to move to a 3rd world country where niggas making like 18 cents a day so I can maintain my balling just a little bit longer. I'd be killing it in the slums of Mongolia with a hut the size of a grocery store.

3. My friends going to want to be put on
If you can't sing you know you can't sing nobody is going to have Simon Cowell William Hung you to see it. If you can't play ball you know you can't play ball, none of Lebron's homies are asking for tryouts with the Heat. Every black man under 40 thinks he can rap especially with what's passing for music these days. Even I think I can rap and I don't rap at all but I put words together all the time. I'd get my Dylon on in the booth and spit hot fire. So just imagine when all my homies keep showing up at the studio trying to put down their 16 bars on my remix and I got to tell them all to get fuck out of here. I'll be friendless.

4. I don't do drugs
I could never get up with my rapper cohorts because they are going to be popping Mollies and I'll be sitting there sober. They'll be having the time of their lives smoking loud while drinking prescription grade cough syrup and I'll be sitting in the corner quietly smoking my black & mild cigar. I don't want to have seizures like Rick Ross and Lil Wayne. I can't show up to the party smoking Reggie and drinking children's strength grape Dimetapp to fit in, they're going to laugh at me. Just imagine how Rick Ross's titties bounce when he's laughing I'd be scarred for life.

5. I'd try to fuck every girl on the video set
Anybody saw French Montana's "Pop That" video? Of course you did, but if you didn't go ahead click over to YouTube. Fire that video up I'll be waiting right here when you get back... You see those half naked women running around shaking ass like shit is sweet? Oh, I couldn't have been there, at least 1 of them would have gotten fucked before they even started shooting. I'd just grab a few of those Mollies off of Rick Ross and get the party started. I wouldn't get shit accomplished because I'd be chasing down these video hoes.

I got to stick with this average Joe life
Jean DeGrate won't be rapping

Monday, November 5, 2012

Are You One of The Unchosen?

Still single?

Accidently ended up in the jumpoff realm?

Didn't get the invite to Thanksgiving dinner quite yet?

Is the cold winter ahead going to be a lonely one?

Cuffing season is like a game of musical chairs and when the music stops and you're left standing... man that shit got to tug at the heart strings. But sometimes you don't even know you've been left standing until the week of Thanksgiving is here and you're just realizing you didn't get an invite to dinner. Since I'm Jean DeGrate and I'm awesome as hell I'm going to tell you the top 5 ways to know you're not in contention for cuffing.

1. No reply to your "Good Morning" text
If you shot a 717a "Good Morning" text to your potential Him/Her on a Monday morning and 9a comes and goes sans a response you're not getting cuffed. You're not even a 3rd string option for cuffing season.

2. You only communicate after sundown
If he only acknowledges your existence when the street lights are on you've probably moved from the potential cuff lane to the standby jumpoff list. He tweets all day or she IG's all day but hasn't sent anything to you other than that single lonely "Good Morning" text. It's needless to say, but that's a dead on sign of your priority in their life and the number 1 spot on the roster is not open to you.

3. You've never been to his house
A big part of cuffing is the sleepovers so actually being to the person's place of residence is a major start to that. If all home visits are to your crib but he has his own spot you know what it is. Right? If ya'll are fucking minus the cuddles then he's washing up in the sink and creeping out in the dead of night you know what it is. Right? You got to see that overnight bag to know it's real. You got to spend some quality time at his crib to know it's real.

4. He hasn't asked you what you want for Christmas
Despite the sudden upsurge of new Muslims in the last few years; the remaining somewhat Christians still practice exchanging gifts with the woman they plan on keeping throughout cuffing season. (Side note - I don't trust them new nigga Muslim either I once saw one of them take off his cofi to eat a piece of bacon.) If he hasn't asked your input on a gift or randomly requested your size for no apparent reason you can not only relinquish the idea of receiving any gifts but also the fact that you'll make it to the spring.

5. He was out of touch during Hurricane Sandy
If there was ever a great opportunity for a snowed-in dry run it was Sandy. If you were really in the running he would have been in the grocery store the day before shit hit the fan asking you what type of can goods you like. If the storm came and gone but all you got are "You good over there" text you're on the list for the Unchosen.

Bonus point, not fucking on the regular
If days turn into a week and zero attempts are made to lay it down you should be happy to even know each other still and get comfortable in the friend zone.

Are You One of The Unchosen this season?
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Friday, November 2, 2012

5 reasons why I'll never attend a high school reunion or homecoming

My high school homecoming is today. Go Coolidge Colts and shit. Unfortunately I won't be attending the game or any of the associated festivities. Not because I'm not in town or I have a crazy hectic schedule. Nope, none of that applies to me. I just give zero fucks and this is why...

1. I have a FaceBook account
FaceBook is a bevy of over sharing. I know far more about virtually strangers than I ever needed to know (this includes former schoolmates). With that said I know what's going on with my graduating class and 3 the before and the 3 after. They aren't doing anything that interesting that I feel the need to be within arms reach of them ever. They're all ordinary people, working regular jobs, raising kids and trying to be rappers. Seriously I got at least 10 niggas I went to school with that are 30 plus trying to be rappers. STILL. (If any of you prospective rappers are reading please don't post your YouTube video on my wall, I'll delete it then block you, thanks the management.)

2. There are no girls I still wish to fuck
Sadly all the formerly bad bitches (for lack of better wording) have fallen off; some much harder than others. I've already smashed the girls I really want to hit when they were still in their prime. I won't be rolling into the class reunion attempting to hit it off with a chick I had a mean crush on in the 10th grade. She has 2 kids by 2 different dudes, gained 30lbs and once wore a fishnet cat suit to the club; I saw the pictures on FB. None for me thanks.

3. The "Lets keep in touch" conversation
One of the most annoying things in life is running into a person you vaguely used to know then having that über fake "How you been doing?" exchange. I can easily expect to have 40 plus of those useless chit chats at any post high school function. I don't have it in me to keep pretending to be storing phone numbers in my phone. You want to know where I've been and what I've been up to I can sum it up in one sentence "Nigga I've been living and I assume you've been doing the same". Miss me with all that small talk shit all the folks from high school that I wanted to keep up with I kept up with them.

4. I have no desire to show off
No really I have no desire to show off. If I did I'd just get an Instagram account then I could post pictures of all my expensive clothes, every single meal I eat and endless bottles of Ciroc. I don't have "look at me now" syndrome so I won't be stunting on any of you hoes. From the look of some of my FB school mate homies my most valuable asset is my full head of hair and I ain't even responsible for my hairline that just good genetics.

5. I have no school spirit
I didn't grow up in Dillon, Texas because if I did I'd have a huge amount of school spirit (Friday Night Lights). I grew in a major city with way more to do on a Friday night than watch the lone high school football play some out of towners. I'm not even sure that I've ever been to a high school sporting event ever; I'm damn sure I'm not about to start now though. Plus nobody is gambling on high school sports, I can't even turn a profit.

You can catch me on FB or Google me
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Thursday, November 1, 2012

How I Get Away Without Giving Oral?

I know you're interested...

I know you're thinking "Oh, fuck no that couldn't be me he'd have to eat this pussy", but that totally would NOT be the case. You would fall in line just like every other woman I've bedded sans oral and this is why...

1. You wouldn't believe me
Time and time again when I tell a woman I've never eaten pussy they always give me the meanest "Nigga Please" face. It's not possible to be a 30 plus year old sexual active man that has never had his head between any tights. In the midst of her disbelief her "I want to be special" reflex kicks in and she'll begin her own personal quest to get me to go where I "say" I've never been. She'll fail but get an A for effort though.

2. You want to be first
It's almost impossible to have a first anything with somebody once they reach the other side of 25 without doing something crazy. "I was the first girl he ever hit it raw in the parking lot of a Denny's while it was raining". You'll get zero Kudos for pulling off such a trivial feat. But to be the first girl he ever gave that mouth to... you'll win much praise with your girlfriends and a major ego boost. So after saying I've never done she wants to be the one I do it for.

3. You'll get over that shit
I've never been about to get the cheeks and the girl looked up at me then said "Slow down buddy you got to lick this pussy before you stick this pussy". Only dealing with a brand of thirsty nigga will have him pause in his efforts to orally please. I'm clearly not of class of gentleman and it's written on my face so women know better than to try; so fast forward pass that rule. Once we've fucked 7 or 8 times she may find it awkward that she's never received the head from the kid and ask why. I'll tell her I'm not about that life, crack a few jokes about why I don't (i.e. I have high blood pressure so I can't gamble with the sodium) and continue to fuck as normally schedule.

Yeah it just that simple
Jean DeGrate has spoken