Tuesday, October 3, 2017

That Time I Should Have Won Side Dude of the Year

Gather around boys and girls it’s story time with JD…

Technically I wasn’t actually the side dude. She was legit my homie. We’ll call her Teresa and yes; I was hitting Teresa on occasion throughout the span of a couple of relationships. And by occasion I mean 5 times tops. One time was exclusively out of curiosity of what that mouth might do. Ok story within a story time…

I was kind of dating girl called Sunday. I called her Sunday because I only saw her on Sundays and by only seeing her on Sundays I meant I’d come over to her house and fuck. Sunday was a pioneer of this internet stalking shit. She literally befriended every one of my female on social media. It sounds bad but back then it was like 60 in comparison today’s 2400 or so. Somehow, someway Teresa and Sunday became phone buddies and they were discussing skin care technics because Teresa has flawless skin. Anyway Sunday erupted with laughter out of the blue and exclaimed “Bitch you crazy”. Sunday turns to me and said “She says she keeps her skin clear by swallowing at least once a week”. Needless to say my interested was peaked and I immediately plotted my exit to see what that mouth does. You don’t need all the details, but I left Sunday’s house and 45 minutes later I was seeing what that mouth did. It was wonderful by the way.

Ok back to the story…

Boyfriends hate me. The only boyfriend in the history of my females having boyfriends that didn’t hate me is the homie Tangie’s husband, Russell. Anyway Teresa’s current boyfriend was really uncomfortable with her having a male best friend which is ironic for two reasons; first I didn’t have sex with her during their relationship and second he had a female best friend. On the flipside his female best friend was unattractive as in the moment I finish writing this blog I’m unfucking her unattractive. Teresa cooked up this whole scheme of me “talking” to her boyfriend’s best friend; let’s call her Ant because she kind of looks like an ant. Basically I’d go out on a date or two with Ant and her boyfriend would stop feeling uncomfortable. I agreed to this arrangement prior to seeing Ant. Upon meeting Ant face to face I threw the whole plan the fuck out the window.

Teresa pulled up on me with Ant to make the introduction when I was chilling around U Street at a random bar and BOY there was much to be desired. It’s no way I could be out in these streets with this young lady. Ant was brown skin slim built with big breast and no ass at all but that face was an absolute deal breaker. A total lack of ass is a hard mountain to overcome on any woman and when you accompany it with an unpretty face; nah son. Ain’t no mother fucking way. I needed a plan B. I was going to put her in a “phone bone and text her to death” type of situation. I’m a beast on the phone. I’m a fucking professional conversationalist. (If you’ve ever been on the phone with me for longer than 20 minutes you’d know that I’m gifted.) We exchanged info then Ant and Teresa headed on their way. I walked back into happy hour and tried to drink the image of her face out of my head.

Anyway… the next day I started operation chatterbox. I’m telling you this; I’m charming as fuck when I put my mind to it. For about 2 weeks I had her crying laughing and hanging on my every word without even hinting at a date or any sort of face to face interaction. I was ready to do a victory lab because I heard no new gripes about the friendship between Teresa and me. It was to the point that Teresa would hit my line and shoot the shit with me while her formally jealous boyfriend was sitting on the couch next to her. Mission accomplished right? Wrong. In week 3 of our usually cool and casual conversations became instantly littered with “so when am I going to see you” and my hand was pushed. I tried to duck and dodge it but she wouldn’t let it die; I was really going to have to jump on this grenade. BLOWN.

Since I was backed into a corner I set it up for a Netflix and chill type of situation well after sundown. I intentionally lined it up on the day the crew was celebrating one of the homies birthday so I could already be on some day drinking shit. I was sipping from 4p right up until she pulled up at 10p. I had a bottle in the house for her and a movie lined up. The plan was to have her come over, throw the movie on liquor her up then we’d both pass out. Nope; it didn’t play out that way. We never discussed her hidden talent of drinking like a member of a biker gang. I had a 5th of Goose and she was going shot for shot with me and I was already halfway done. I probably made it 2 thirds into the 5th before I was staring at the inside of my eyelids. I wake up to her reaching into my pants whipping my man out. My intent wasn’t to smash; I swear it wasn’t, but she started in with the head and she wasn’t half bad. She was no Teresa but it kind of sobered up me; I wasn’t anywhere near 100% lucid but my dick was 150% ready. On everything I love I normally mail it in with chicks I’m not digging, but I’m going to do like Jamie Fox and blame it on the liquor because I balled her ass up in that bed. Twice. She creeped out like 3a with a possible limp and I woke up to the meanest hangover several hours later. About 3p when I finally started to get my appetite back and my life in order; this ugly broad had the audacity to send me a selfie caption “I had fun last night”. I threw my phone across the room then jumped up and started punching the air like Trey in “Boys in the Hood” after Ricky got shot. I was mad at her. I was mad at myself. I was mad at Teresa. I was mad at Grey Goose and my head was hurting. I maintained my professionalism and tucked Ant back into the conversation only zone and eventually phased out talking to her completely over a 4 week span. No awards or plaques came for my sacrifice on that dark night. I still can’t watch documentaries about ants to this day and Teresa broke up with dude like 6 weeks later.

Not all heroes wear capes
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Saturday, September 23, 2017

You Are Ideal Side Dude Material

Like 10 days back I dropped the “You Are Ideal Side Chick Material” and I promised the male version. So here we go…

As previously stated the criteria that makes for a good side dude and a good side chick differs so greatly that I couldn’t do it in one blog. This is especially true because men would absolutely unequivocally repeatedly fuck a woman they wouldn’t be seen with in public let alone legitimately date. Women on the flipside rarely sleep with men they wouldn’t entertain in a dating capacity. In most situations a guy that’s an ideal candidate for a side position can very much flourish in Cuffing season as the main attraction. Let’s get into it.

If you appear to be a player/hoe
Women love these player/hoe types of guys as long as they aren’t the ones being played and/or cheated on. They’ll guard their hearts and open their legs while maintaining a real relationship at home. The guy that she comes home to is the man that’s good for her but the player guy just does something to her that she can’t get from her man. He’s the dessert to her main course and who doesn’t like a little dessert here and there?

If you publicly have a girlfriend and appear to be in a happy relationship
Women are petty. They like to know a guy isn’t shit. They get a kind of high from it. I used to know a girl that went to her side dudes wedding with her live in boyfriend as her date. SAVAGE. They’re not out to ruin a happy home (no Kevin Hart) just put a smudge or two on the windows. Petty shit aside; being in a relationship with something to lose makes for an excellent long term side dude and alleviates most confusion and feelings.

If you’re the work husband
Being a work husband is often a thankless job and a lot of ground work is done in an ultimately fruitless endeavor. He’s always one after work happy hour away from getting a room at the Marriott. He’s always one heated at home argument away being led into the supply closet for an afternoon delight. So close ; yet so far away. Sometimes and this is a rarity; the work husband lands into the side dude position and it’s fucking sweet. The work husband side dude has 40 hours of access to that pussy while getting paid Monday thru Friday.

If you’re the available friend that hasn’t tried it
If she calls he answers. If she text he responds within 5 minutes. It’s Wednesday at 4:59pm and she wants to hit happy hour he’s down. He’s the always there to do something fun last minute when her girls flake out and remain cool about it. He always there on the other end of the phone to kill some time. All of that somehow that translates into break in case of emergency dick; because she’s been wondering why you haven’t tried it and what it might be like. Unless he’s trash it won’t be any chance of putting that genie back in its bottle.

If you’re tricking
You ever heard the saying “whatever you’re not willing to do, someone else is”? Sure you have. That person is the trick. Typically he’s not best looking guy or the smoothest but he has that bag and he’s willing to share it for a sexual favor or two. Think of that old dude in “Set it Off” that gave Jada the strokes for little brother's tuition money. It’s a few things that her man isn’t willing to do or isn’t in a position to do and the trick is waiting because these bills ain’t gonna pay themselves.

If you’re popping
(Popping – in social or economic position to move more freely than most) Women typically cheat up financially and/or aesthetically to the type of guy they would like to date but probably wouldn’t date them in return. Think of your auntie drooling over Denzel Washington. Would your auntie date Denzel if giving the opportunity? Yes she would; leaving a “Dear John” letter for your uncle and cousins. Would Denzel date your auntie? Probably not; he’d probably call security on her if she evaded his personal space. The sky is not the limit. Women will continue to date guys in their perspective “leagues” and keep an ongoing dick appointment with the guy that’s popping. It’s like groupie logic but watered down for everyday people.

You just might be A1 side dude material
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

The Long Game 2017: 5 Weeks

I wrote the original version of this blog almost 5 years ago and from the male perspective. It could use a bit of tweaking because the dating game has changed radically (not really but jive like a little bit) and it should have been for everybody from the start. Let’s get into it…

Here’s how dating typically goes…

Boy sees girl he wouldn’t mind sticking his penis in. (Yes that’s how it goes every time. This is not debatable men approach women because they want to fukk them. Never in the history of man has a guy been eyeing a young lady from the other side of the room thinking “I bet she’s a dope person; I should go over there and get to know her”.) Boy sends girls a friend request/approaches her at the bar/slides in them DM’s and shoots his shot. Swish. Girl likes boy's appearance and the things he has to say then decides to give him some attention. Boy and girl begin to text and talk (but mainly text) then shortly after they set up a date. Boy takes out girl, feeds her, entertains her, and tells her his funny stories. Boy does his best to win girl over in pursuit of that puzzi. Boy will continue you to recycle this formula until…

A. Boy captures the box
B. Girl curves boy
C. Boy exhausts his resources (time, energy, money) or…
D. Boy starts to like girl

This typically all transpires during a 2 to 4 week span and options A B and C are normally a waste of time. The truth it’s really hard to gauge the level interest in a stranger in 3 weeks during the interview stage of dating. Everybody is on their best behavior, every outing their wearing the first day of school outfit and keeping all their skeletons in a locked closet hidden behind a dresser. New people are the most interesting people. New people always have all these adventures and all these refreshing views on the world uniquely based on their personal perspective. New people are so dope.

So instead of meeting somebody new on Tuesday and out on the town that Friday we should slow it down. Ladies you can save some time and some undue mileage on the puzzi and fellas on the flipside you can save on these $200 dates. Everybody wins with this approach just stick with me for a second.

Rule 1 – Don’t store numbers

Seems senseless right? If you’re really clicking with somebody they’ll always be in the top of your call/text log. If you have to swipe up 3 or 4 times to find this person clearly the chemistry isn’t there. Plus if you’re in frequent contact the number will start to look familiar; you might even accidently memorize it.

Rule 2 – Actually talk on the phone and often

I know this concept sounds wildly outdated but a long long time ago phones were actually for talking. Sounds crazy right? It’s true though if you go to the Smithsonian this weekend you can catch an actual exhibit of cavemen using phones that didn’t have text nor internet capabilities. Conversations move so much faster on the phone. 30 minutes of intense texting is only really 3 minutes of phone time. Communicating without emojis may seem odd for the first few conversations, but trust me there are words in the English language to accurately express the upside-down smiley face. This will also accelerate the Q&A stage of all those ultimately pointless ass interview questions. You’d be surprise how fast you can figure out if you like someone or if they are full of shyt when you’re left with their words and no other distractions.

Rule 3 – Don’t go out with them within 35 days

The first 3 weeks are typically all bullshyt. All smiles and laughs and exchanging dope memes and YouTube links and shyt, but it ain’t real. Week 4 is typically when shyt starts getting real (kind of like the NFL when you can tell if your team is going to the playoffs or not). When you find out they like pineapples on their pizza and only eat the flat part of chicken wings because those are trash people. When you find out they are 30 but their mom had to co-sign on their car and apartment. You start seeing the chinks in the armor and that gives you a clearer view of the person outside of all the cool shyt they’ve presented beforehand. If they make it to the end of week 4 you should be working your to setting up an outing because evidently it’s more than a physical attraction popping here. It’s a vibe and shyt.

What are you on Saturday a month from now?
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Friday, September 15, 2017

You Are Ideal Side Chick Material

*Yes there will be a side dude material blog dropping before my DM’s start going off. I’ll probably drop it sometime next week. Stay tuned tho.*

The criteria that makes for a good side chick and a good side dude varies so greatly that I can’t even put it into one blog. I tried. It didn’t work. I deleted the whole thing and went back to the drawing board. So here we are.

Unfortunately, all you single ladies aren’t up to be cuffed this season or at least cuffed by the type of guy you would rather be snowed in with. Life be lifeing and shydd. Fortunately, there is always space on team side chick. Being a side chick never goes out of season. I know of a guy that went thru a wife and 2 girlfriends whilst keeping the same side chick through them all. That situation actually ended really badly; yeah that was a terrible example so pretend you didn’t read that, but side chicks are a valuable commodity and if you play you lane it’s some perks but that’s another blog for another time. Let’s get into what we came here for…

If you own several children AND you’re poor
Define poor you say? If you buy the iPhone X you’ll have to cancel Christmas is an accurate depiction. Poor women with multiple people that climbed out her vagina solely in their care aren’t exactly ideal girlfriends. Plus being snowed in with her team of crumb snatchers might be a slight notch down from freezing to death in a blizzard because kids are terrible people. This is especially true when you don’t own those kids. These women almost never have babysitters so taking her and the litter out to eat which could get pricey. On the flipside they are up for entertaining at home well after their children’s bedtime which tucks them firmly into the side chick zone.

You work nights and or crazy hours
Most people work a 9 to 5. You don’t believe me? Rush hour exist. I rest my case your honor. If you’re on the clock during vampire hours you need to find somebody else working vampire hours. If the potential bae gets off work at 5p and you have to be on the job at 10p that’s just enough time to halfway watch a movie on Netflix and fuck. Your life set up is great for lunch time sex, before work sex, and hooky sex but not much else.

You’re ugly
There’s somebody for everybody? Yeah that’s a lie. Every time an ugly chick lands herself in a legitimate relationship an angel gets her wings. It’s in the bible right between God being cool with slavery and telling folks not to eat shrimp. Amen. Despite this new found level of bravado ugly women tend to display men still ain’t checking for them. BUT… men will fuck pretty much anything and ugly women definitely fall under the category of anything. If you’re a not so attractive woman that’s down to fuck then it’s plenty of men willing to visit you in the wee hours of the night after the club with a fifth of Patron and beef patties from 7-11 on deck.

You’re a dot com thot
You IG “models”, Snap Chat divas and FB attention whores out here living for likes that never actually turns into a check are a special breed of woman that’s extremely hard to take seriously. Your titties and ass are always out and your Cash App info is in your bio. You’re probably not a hoe but it’s not worth the gamble. You’ll make a much better fuck buddy in a no strings attached type of situation than you would with an actually girlfriend title and having to witness the world thirst over you.

You have a reputation
And by a reputation I mean you’re a hoe. You’re a hoe; it’s common knowledge you’re a hoe. Your mileage comes up in your HoeFax. You’re not Kim K and the dudes you run into aren’t Kanye. So until you move to Atlanta, where hoes go to retire, you’re either going to take a sidechick position or deal with a dude from out of town that doesn’t know any better.

Act quickly positions on the better rosters are filling fast
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

The Jaded Good Guy

There are two types of good guys in the world…

First we have the genuine good guys. The guys who are good-natured because that’s who they are from head to toe; they are the good Samaritans, the gentlemen and the beacons of chivalry. They do the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing. Unfortunately we aren’t gathered here today to speak on those fine men carved out of the highest grade of moral integrity.


Today we are here to talk about the other good guys. The guys that move the way they move to receive a certain response; a prize that exceeds the “that a boy” pat on the back. The “if I do XY and Z then woman should like me” good guys; the pseudo good guys. Honestly I love those guys. They’re the best type of guys because they are so fucking jaded.

Let’s get it started.

Somewhere out there is the “good guy” handbook; it contains all the required criteria to obtain good guy status. Loving his mother, keeping a job, paying bills on time, “respects” women, he’s good with his hands, has a good credit score, involved some sort of organization with other men of perceived high quality, gives spare change to the homeless and so on and so forth. He’s not trendy because he never wants to be mistaken for a new nigga; he’s never been to jail because it would jeopardize his good guy status. He doesn’t say or post racy things on social media because his family are his friends on Facebook. He always pays for dates because that’s what good guys are supposed to do. He’s been following the good guy guidelines waiting to receive his good guy blessings, and by blessings I mean a bad bitch that is sick of dope boys, fuck boys and playboys. He’s waiting for the bad bitch to recognize his goodness and realize he’s the man she never knew she needed then live happily ever after.

Pseudo good guys are perpetually attempting to date up, aesthetically speaking of course, on the good guy grading curve. “Good guys” rarely exceed a 6 out of a possible 10 rating. If a pseudo good guy is 4 the grading curve “should” allow him to successfully date 5, 6 and 7’s.  If he’s a 6 he “should” be able to bag 8’s and 9’s. You get the gist right? Right. Regrettably, it rarely pans out like that. Instead of landing themselves in a relationship; they more times than not end up in the friendzone, the play brother zone or even worst the temporary simp zone. (The temporary simp zone is when a female juices everything she can get out of man without compromising herself sexual, but of course this is only good for a limited time.)

And the problem lines here…

Even though history has taught us that women may not be the best judge of character they have been impeccably good at keeping pseudo good guys out of the pussy promise land.  These fugazi good guys typically come off creepy or disingenuous or both. Imagine seeing a grown man standing at the fence of a playground looking at the kids doing the Birdman hand rub. Ok not that creepy; but take that down about 4 notches and you’re locked on the pseudo good guy vibe. They try extremely too hard to win women over with their efforts but, lack charisma and overall personality. Their entire lexicon is a patchwork of sayings they assume will make women like them because they’ve seen it successfully used elsewhere. When the “copy and paste” vernacular accompanied by all their “good guy” credentials repeatedly fails to turn into anything fruitful they become bitter.  Pseudo good guys can’t see their flaws. They only have their checklist as a reference point and if they’ve followed the rules they can’t understand why they haven’t won. They question the integrity of women because they are good hard working men who are constantly looked over for men who they deem to be of less character and self-worth. You know, because bitches don't really want good men and shit.  In their eyes women keep choosing guys that leave them with broken hearts and turn them into single mothers. They’ll take the one story Mika told them about Andre from 3rd street that gave her a son and now he’s doing 140 years with the possibility of parole in 2064 and blankets it over every woman that’s turned them down. The pseudo good guy is jaded as fuck because bad bitches be choosing but they never choose him.

The pseudo good guy is really a fuck boy that never got in the game
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

There’s Something about Molly

By now everybody has seen the latest episode of Insecure. Oh you haven’t? Then stop right now, go catch up and get back at me. I’ll be here. I’ll wait. I won’t but this blog will be here.

Now for the people up to date with the most recent episode (Hella Shook)… the Molly hive fell apart. The Molly hive is in shambles. I wanted to start a GoFundMe so they could get some professional counseling and consoling. But let me say this much Molly isn’t wrong. You may not approve of what she did but she’s definitely not wrong not even a little bit. Well maybe a little bit of wrong because she did invite the homie from “This Is Us” to the cookout then left in a fit of rage with tall lightskin (I know his name but I rather call him tall lightskin). Sometimes people get left places and Lyft exist, but other than that Molly didn’t do anything wrong.

Some of ya’ll probably don’t understand how we got here but that something about Molly is also something about a lot of us. The entirety of season 1 shows us Molly looking for love and failing horribly. Dating guys that match her fly and failing horribly. The one time she made a detour from that path she ended up dating a bisexual Enterprise employee. Right up to Sunday’s episode I didn’t understand her motivation. I couldn’t see why she was so hell bent on finding this perfect love and trying to force herself into these instant relationships. She was chasing the idea of marriage based on what she believed her parents have and that shit went up in smoke. We’ve all followed someone else’s lead to achieve desired results (that’s why exercise exists). I mean, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander right? Right.  (Quick side note; if you were born after 1985 you might not know that a gander is actually a male goose. I’m also bringing this saying back in 2018 so stay tuned.)

You’d be wrong though

People love to pretend to be happy. People love to hold up public appearances. People love to act like some shit is great when it ain’t. Beyoncé walked out of an elevator, where her sister had just beat up her husband, photo the fuck ready. Last year on April 20th you couldn’t tell a random black person that Jay-Z and Beyoncé weren’t the epitome of black love and we all love love. Three days later Lemonade dropped and turned the world upside down. Before you say your relationship goals weren’t Jay-Z and Beyoncé… You know what the fuck I mean. Stop tripping over semantics. There were the “it” couple. They were the best combination since ugly women and Instagram filters. Well Instagram came after but you know what I mean. When the façade broke down not only did the world look at them different the world moved differently. My PhD thesis paper will actually be titled “How Lemonade Pushed Side Chick Culture to the Next Level”.

See here’s the thing if you’ve been striving for a goal, denying yourself of certain pleasures; all in the pursuit of something that you abruptly find out doesn’t exist you’ll flip the fuck out. Especially if you’ve been following in the steps of someone you know and trust to achieve a goal you’ll feel betrayed. You’ll lash out, but most importantly you’ll say “fuck that shit” and pull a Molly. And by “pull a Molly” I don’t exactly mean sleep with a childhood friend that has an open marriage in rebellion against the marriage you thought your parents had but more like… Eating that cake when you find out your homie got her waist snatched in the DR instead of that "lemon water diet and 500 crutches a day" bullshit dream she been selling you.  If you have a Molly type of situation, the #HoeIsLife movement is always accepting new members because Molly ain’t broken no vows to nobody and marriage ain’t what it used to be.

Still team Molly
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Story Time with JD - Stranger in the Dark

1st off I need to develop a sense of fear. (Ain’t going to be a 2nd but I just like saying 1st off; I also like saying “and another thing” when I never said a first thing. Fight me). Being fearless is going to get me killed and I’mma tell you how. Gather around boys and girls it's Story time with JD. I’ve said this before but I’m going to say it again… I live in the hood. The real hood. Cool? Cool.

I’ve leave the house before God wakes up on Sunday mornings to roll into the office. There’s no birds chirping, it’s still pitch black; it’s an excellent setting for a Jason Voorhees Friday the 13th style killing to take place. There are no houses or buildings across the street from my apartment; just woods and shit; which coincidently makes it a great place for Jason to appear from or a young lady dressed in all black. So as I’m walking to my car a women dressed in all black emerges from the shady woods and walks towards me. “Can you give me a ride to Capitol Heights? I’ll give you gas money.” Sure strange lady that just materialized from the darkness at 445am on a Sunday. What’s the worst that can happen? This would be a great time for a sense of fear to kick in and I go skrt skrt down the street but instead the hole in my face says “How far is that like 10 15 mins away? Cool. Get in.” She hops in and smells as if she had bathed in a combination of all flavors of those Bath & Body Works scented lotions. So she smelled like a stripper at the beginning of her shift; you know, before she picks up the scent of Newport smoke, old men and VS Hennessey. I cracked my window a bit.

JD – Which way are we heading? Suitland Parkway? 495?
The Girl (of course I don’t her name and it’s too early for me to be clever) – Take Suitland Parkway towards Pennsylvania ave.
JD – Bet
The Girl – How much do you want for gas money?
JD – I’m good
The Girl – Thank you so much

And I pull off. I pretty much live with my JBL wireless headphones in my ear. Doesn’t matter if I’m listening to something or not they’re in my ears from the moment I walk out of the door until I come back home. If you’re a soft talker I probably won’t understand shit you’re saying. This is relevant because unbeknownst to me she in the passenger seat having a whole ass conversation as we’re cruising down Suitland Parkway. I hear the slightest murmur and look over to see her lips moving then I removed my right earbud.

JD – What’s up now? I didn’t hear anything you were saying.
The Girl – Nothing. Nothing. I just got a lot going on.

Obviously something is “going on” if you’re asking strangers for rides in the dead of night like Uber doesn’t exist; I almost switched into Dr. Phil mode then the voice in my head said “Bro don’t open Pandora’s box”. I slipped my earbud right back into my ear. Now out of my peripheral vision I keep seeing her lips moving. I’m trying to block it out and mind my fucking business but, nope, I cannot not see it. She is chopping it the fuck up with herself over there. Yep this bitch is crazy. Odds were already leaning towards insanity but this was the absolute confirmation. Then I felt her arm touching my arm on the armrest. My car is pretty fucking big. Somebody once called me from the back seat to turn down the AC, so there is no good reason for any unintentional physical contact. So in classic sucker ass nigga fashion I just scoot my arm away from her creating some space like I’m not the king of my own fucking domain. Then she put her hand on my forearm. By the way she’s still deeply involved in her conversation with herself. My tombstone would read “Here lies a nigga that was tripping” because she’s probably about to stab me in my neck, then grab the wheel and send us both to a fiery death. But since you’re reading this guess who still alive? Now she’s massaging my forearm working her way down to my hand. I instantly abandon the death possibly to a move directly over to “is she about to try to fuck me”. I pull away and redirected her attention because we had just reached the light at Forestville Road and Suitland Parkway.

JD – (Pointing) We going through the light straight out to Pennsylvania or am I going to hit this left?
The Girl – Uhh… Make the left

I put my arm back down on the armrest and before I can even make the turn she grabs it again pulling it over to her side of the car. Now I’m thinking if she tries to put my hand down her pants or her shirt I’m going to have to punch in the face. I don’t hit women but I think I’m in a flexible gray area here, you know, because I don’t want to catch herpes on my pointer finger. Forever unclean. I redirect her attention again and pull away again.

JD – Hey hey hey put on your seat belt shorty

She puts her seat belt on and got right back to it. Is this my life right now? Is this really happening? I really have to work on my not giving a fuck when it’s not my turn to give a fuck. Then it popped into my head “if I’m going to Capitol Heights why the fuck are we in Forestville. I pull my arm away again for seemingly the 70th time (it was the 3rd) and grabbed my phone.

JD – What’s the address?
The Girl – (mumbling) 444 Noma Ave
JD – What?
The Girl – (mumbling still) 1444 Noma Ave
JD – (I felt like I was asking her why she was left off of Bad and Boogie) Huh?
The Girl – 1447 Nova Ave
JD - Bet

I plugged the address into Waze and we were 7 minutes out from an address that was only 6 minutes away from my home to start with. She was back to caressing my hand and having the convo with herself and I had spent 20 minutes driving around with a crazy person in the passenger seat. We pulled up and she slowly and reluctantly let go of my hand then thanked me again. The entire time I hadn’t taken a solid look at her but when got out of the car I looked over and shorty was phatter than a motherfucker. But she was way crazier than she was phat so that was a dead issue. She walked in the house and pulled off. Luckily no masked gunmen arose from the shadows to relieve me of vehicle and life and shit. My hand still smells like baby stripper.

No good deed goes unpunished
Jean DeGrate needs to stop picking up strangers

Monday, August 7, 2017

Owning Your Sexuality

The last couple of weeks have been a shit show when it comes to sexuality via social media and celebrities (or used to be celebrities and by used to be celebrities I mean Bobby Valentino)….

1. Amber Rose on the Complex pod cast Everyday Struggle discussing her Slut Walk and the slut shaming movement. If 21 Savage happens to be reading this stop reading this now I’m about to say something bad about your girl homie. Amber isn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but she sure is a hustler and her hustle is her sexuality. Joe Budden and Wackademiks let her run amuck on the podcast; good thing I was already planning to write this.

2. R. Kelly doing R. Kelly like shit and of course his legion of aunties and creep ass dudes caping up for him. That’s all I have to say about that.

3. Usher Raymond officially redefined the term Fire Stick and gave new life to his 13 year old song “Let it Burn”. Oh the irony is killing me as I’m sure the lawsuits are killing him. Even women that he didn’t burn are suing him.

4. Bobby Valentino got outed by a trans woman for allegedly receiving services than dashing out without paying.

5. The trans novelist/journalist Janet Mock responding to the “transphobic” remarks made by Lil Duval on the his Breakfast Club interview accompanied by a slew of blogs proclaiming that as a trans person dating you don’t have to let people know you’re a trans person. Oh ok.

I’ve really been waiting to touch on this topic since the first season of Insecure when Molly was dating Jared (the dude that got the top from another dude). That shit was crazy and awkward as fuck but here’s the thing if that conversation was had from day one there would be no awkwardness. It’s something we kind of keep leaping over. It’s funny because we as people want a background check on everything else. If you’re buying a used car you’d want a Carfax but getting the Hoefax on someone you might become intimate and/or get into a relationship with is somehow taboo.

Ok I’m about to get into some hoe math, stats and definitions and shit…

I have my own unique definitions for what a hoe is and what a slut is (and no they aren’t the same thing). Inconveniently under these upcoming classifications I used to be a slut and I’m currently still a hoe because numbers don’t lie, but anyway on with the definitions.  I’m a firm believer that almost everyone has had a slutty moment such as multiple people in one day or hitting the several members of the crew/family. Now if those types of actions are the norm well you might fall into the slut category. Now hoeing on the other hand is established purely on volume and based on the definition of promiscuous (having many indiscriminate or casual sexual relationships) who decides what many is after all. So I came up with a very generous standard of what a hoe is. If your body count exceeds your years on earth you are a hoe. According to California State University the average male loses his virginity at 16.9 and the average female at 17.4, therefore if you’re 32 with 33 bodies you’re been dropping 2.2 bodies a year on average. That’s a bit much since the lifetime average via the National Center for Health Statistics is 7. So for the sake of argument let’s say promiscuity starts at 15 bodies (slightly more than double of the national average of lifetime partners).

Now that we have the hoe and slut shit out the way on to the gay, bi, Trans, other blurred lines and ownership…

Transsexual - a person having a strong desire to assume the physical characteristics and gender role of the sex opposite to the one assigned at birth

Own - used to emphasize that somebody or something belongs to a particular person or thing and not to somebody or something else

These definitions are important because words mean things.

See here’s the thing a big part of owning your sexuality is owning up to your sexuality. This is triple important to you guys living these double lives. If you’re playing both sides of the field or having relations with transgenders keep it 100 with yourself. Don’t spaz out when things you’ve been doing in the dark comes to light and play the victim or crazy.  I’m also not saying everybody should be walking around with a t-shirt labeled with their body count and a detailed list of their sexually escapades. That would be crazy but an option should be offered to potential sexual partners for disclosure of said Hoefax.

Wouldn’t you want to know if the person you’re dating has a body count higher than your car payment? Wouldn’t you want to know if the person you’re dating was a part of the R. Kelly sex cult and lived in his basement for a year wearing leather underwear and eating Top Ramen? Wouldn’t you want to know if the person you’re dating has an STD (or you could just let it burn)? Wouldn’t you want to know if the person you’re dating if they participated in same sex/trans relations? Wouldn’t you want to know if the person you’re dating used to be man or woman? Wouldn’t you want to know if the person you’re dating has a video or two floating around World Star doing the absolute fucking most in some home made porn? I’m sure you’ve answered yes to at least two of these questions (but if you haven’t inbox me because I have questions).

The level of admission is really up to what the person you’re dating wants to know but when you choose to omit certain things you may be uncomfortable discussing or feel as if it’s nobody’s business but your own you steal the option away from the other person to be intimate or not. Your past might pop back up on you and the person you’re digging is going to start looking at you sideways. I am by no means siding with Lil Duval but you can’t control how a person will feel or react after they have been misled. It may result in an awkward conversation on the low end but it may result in violence.

Do you own your sexuality?
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Women Want to Be Equals Right Up Until It’s Time to Be Equals

“Everybody wants to be a nigga but nobody wants to be a nigger” – Paul Mooney.

Besides this being one of my favorite quotes when you swap the N word out with men it pretty much covers the women’s equality movement.

I’m all for women’s rights. I watched every episode of Sex in the City. I’m low key high key a feminist. True women’s equality will make life so much easier for me. I’m waiting for the moment a woman walks up to me at the bar and offers to buy me a drink only for me to consume the beverage then avoid her for the rest of the night like women have been doing to men for years. Just because you bought me a drink doesn’t not mean you own me ladies; I am a person. I am not property.

Unfortunately the women’s equality movement is really halfcocked because the fairer sex isn’t really about that life. I mean women only want the highlights of equality; the equal pay, abortion rights and all that other dope shit. I believe women should have it all but if you’re my equal you’re now a bro and you can’t treat a bro like a lady; them the rules. After all being equals means having the same privileges, rights, status and opportunities as others and if we’re the same get ready to be treated the same.

Woman beating is a dead topic
I don’t hit women. Even though it’s been a few times in my life I had to call on God to give me the strength to not smack a fucking spark out of a vagina owner. Matter of fact I’m about 5 minutes into episode 2 of Netflix’s “Ozark” and it gave me a top notch reason to beat the lead woman’s ass. (Great show by the way: you should be watching this.) The truth is women do things often that if they owned a penis they probably would have been punched in the face a handful of times in their lifetime (and of course some way more than others). Are you ready to get hit with the old one two? Are you ready to smack a man for being disrespectful and see that haymaker coming back your way? Probably not; because that would cause a fundamental revision of attitude and privilege.

Going Dutch FOREVER and splitting these bills
From the first date to the last date when that check comes get ready to fire up that calculator app because it’s going to be some addition and multiplication to be done. I hope you know those pineapple Ciroc and tonics you’ve been tossing back are $12 a pop. This brings a new definition to the term “there’s no such thing a free meal”. Going half or taking EQUAL turns on paying for outings might make Netflix and Chill a whole lot more appealing because your half of a $200 date is still $100. Dinner, movies and drinks on a Saturday night can run about $300 easy so $150 per date night is more realistic. Then we get around to co-habitation the game really gets fair. Looking for a provider, a savior, a sponsor? Looking for a man to be a man? Kiss all that shit goodbye. Welcome to new age of being roommates with benefits and carrying your own weight. When asked what is being bought to the table that answer is half. Half on the rent, half on the groceries, half on the cable, half on utilities and half on everything else going under that roof. Half. Half. Motherfucking half. On the bright side your equal pay should ease those financial woes. Yeah equality.

Chivalry is over
Chivalry is already on life support as far as most women are concern because they expect this old west style of hat tipping “howdy little lady” laying a jacket over a puddle for a woman to step on type of chivalry. The chivalry that does exist is the holding the door, giving up a seat on public transportation, carrying the groceries and the offering a helping hand when you’re stuck on the side of the road with the hood up chivalry. Equality puts an end to all of that. Get your own door, mow your own lawn, pump your own gas and forget all those courtesy extended to you by strangers because you’re of the opposite sex.

Selective service
You know that thing that men have to sign up for within 30 days of turning 18 so we can be eligible to be drafted into war? Failure to register can cost a guy the possibility of government employment, 250k and up to 5 years in prison. Donny Trump is office and making new international enemies every day. There hasn’t been a draft in quite some time but with 7 months of Trump in the driver's seat I’m waiting for on some foreign power to bomb first (with the exclusion of Russia of course). Are you down to be drafted into Trump’s war for equality?

You ain’t really about this equality life
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Monday, July 24, 2017

Issa, Lawrence and Tasha

From 11p last night and probably until Love and Hip Hop LA comes on tonight my timeline will be lit over Insecure. I love to see all my social media folks talking about quality black television programs with great writing. Look at God. Now with that said A LOT of y’all are tripping. Heavy. People are rooting for Issa and slandering my man Lawrence then acting like Tasha is just getting screwed over pun intended.

Issa is a terrible person
Nobody is perfect. We all have I flaws but Issa is real live trash. How? What you mean how? Have we not been watching the same show? Maybe we haven’t so let me catch you up. In the very first episode Issa was about to slide in her long lost old work Daniel’s DMs before Lawrence ruined her birthday. In the very first episode Issa tricked Molly into going to the open mic so she could accidently on purpose bum into Daniel. Then she turned around dropped a freestyle diss track about Molly’s pussy, Barz. Mad shady son. I’m sure you remember her ghosting on Daniel after she game off the cheeks, cheating on Lawrence (which might have been the least shitty thing she’s done) and rolling out on her friend’s birthday getaway to go talk to Lawrence. All that was in just 8 30 minute episodes of season one; she kicked off this season with proceeding to throw a fake party roping all her friends in unknowingly to stunt on Lawrence. Like I said Issa is a terrible person.

Lawrence is Lawrence
Even though I’m part of the Lawrence hive I’ll give this to you Issa hive people he’s jive corny. The show started with him being unemployed, half way chasing his dreams and being a terrible boyfriend. Issa should have dumped him in episode 1, but I guess the show wouldn’t really work then. When Issa fake moved out Lawrence hit a 180; put his dreams on pause, humbled himself, took a job at Best Buy and started competing for the boyfriend of the year award. In combination with his turn around, swerving Tasha’s initial advances and Issa’s infidelity the Lawrence hive was born. Cracking Tasha in the apartment was just a G move. We all loved it (and if you didn't you're spam). Fast forward to season 2 he’s still sleeping at the homies house on an air mattress and still giving Tasha the stroke; oh and gave Issa 30 seconds of work that she was totally here for.

Tasha has to be hip
From the moment Tasha went to the TV section of Best Buy looking for “batteries” she had to know what it was. I mean she was flirting from the teller window and Lawrence wasn’t biting. When she asked him out for drinks in Best Buy with the titties out he told her straight up he had a girl. When it was time for revenge fucking in Issa’s apartment she was down for the cause and only one call away at that. Girlfriend material move? Ehh. This season she’s getting the Friday night thru Sunday afternoon sleep over strokes and she’s here for it. If she isn’t hip she’s playing herself because nobody else is selling her a dream. Lawrence isn’t even taking her out on dates.

Shoutouts to Nichole and Zee because they be knowing

Ok now the record is straight
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Friday, July 14, 2017

The top 5 types of vagina

I’ve been hoeing for the sake of science or at least that’s what I’ve told myself when I’m looking into the bathroom mirror trying to figure out how I got here. Anyway my penis and I have been in these streets collecting data to bring it back to masses. You’re welcome. Via my “Hoe is Life” tour I’ve comprised a list of the top 5 types of vagina hence the title of this blog. If you're particular brand of pussy didn't make the list despite the raving reviews you've gotten over the years; dudes do lie and life should have already taught you that lesson. Let’s get on with it…

1. Daddy issue pussy
Whether her daddy was in the wind during her childhood or their relationship was riddled with conflict and they never saw eye to eye; either way the first man in her life failed her and left a lasting imprint. There’s a void there. A little black spot on her heart and that dark energy goes right into sex.

2. Used to be a fat girl pussy
Naturally fat girls are eager to please. They tend to overcompensate like short guys in big SUV’s. Oh and by “naturally fat” I mean they’ve been fat since childhood. Women that got fat later in life when their metabolism slowed down or having kids ruined their waistline tend not to try as hard and carry a very similar attitude of the on from their slimmer days. Formerly natural fat girls are the best of both worlds containing the eager to please nature wrapped up into a much smaller package. It’s really a beautiful thing.

3. Single mom with multiple kids and multiple baby daddies pussy
Even as I’m typing I’m imagining the backlash from the baby mommas club but I must fulfill my civil duty even in the face of adversity. Women that have collected several children by several men that aren’t around to take care of those said children (3 and up) tend to be the wave in the bed. The abundance of after sex snack, the lack of having a baby sitter making the act of a traditional date almost impossible and the scare that a tight hug might be enough to get her pregnant all add to the thrill. Plus she phucks like that’s her only form of adult interaction. I mean what else can you do at 10:45pm on a school night hoping the kids are really asleep? Mommas gotta have a life to right? If you were ever wondering how a guy meets a girl with 3 kids and gave her a 4th this is how. Gamble at your own risk.

4. Boss bitch (without children) pussy
It’s something about children ownership that turns Oprah into Beyoncé. Trust me if Blue Ivy was never born the second half of Lemonade would have never existed and she’d be probably dating Puffy right now. Now a true boss bitch has no need for a man outside of sex and she makes it known. All that “I need a man for…” bullshit goes right out of the window; home repairs, cutting the grass, a trip to the dealership, killing a spider, etc… Her checkbook handles all of that. So when it comes to sex she’s in control because her vagina is not a trophy or a bargaining chip. She’s not coy even remotely and very much direct. All that awkward waiting and looking for the signal to make a move shyt is dead. She’s going to phck the shyt out you because she owns her sexuality and then she may kick you out.

5. Loaner pussy
For clarity purposes loaner pussy is sex from a woman that’s in a relationship with someone else.  Having sex with someone else’s girl is an adventure all on it’s own with tons of excitement during the build up to the act, but women in a relationship will borderline grudge fuck you for at least the first few times around.  Whatever she’s not giving to her man sexually she’s giving to you. It’s a beautiful thing as long as you keep it short and sweet. Once you step into that side dude/boyfriend number 2 role the honeymoon is over pun intended. That’s why it’s loan because if you keep it you’re just sharing it with someone else.

I have 6 thru 20 on deck but it’s not even noteworthy after 10
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Saturday, July 8, 2017

3 Essential Sneakers for Men 2017

I know most of y’all don’t want me to talk shoes but I don’t care and because y’all friended me, follow me or cyber stalk me (Hey fellas, currently I’m like 97% sure I’m not sleeping with anyone’s girlfriend so breathe easy) you signed up for this.

I dropped this last year and I guess I’ll keep the trend going. I still don’t have that many male Facebook friends but some of you ladies have boyfriends, husbands, side dudes, sons and brothers right? Of course you do. Well pass this along as need and when it comes to shoe buying you can start here.

Humble but not so humble brag if you’re reading this my shoe game it probably tighter than yours. I’ve downsized and refocused my collection. I still have about 120 pairs of shoes (down for 250ish this time last year) but I’ve filtered out all the one time wear/extra loud colorway/super trendy shoes. This is not the Holy Grail of sneaker education. I’m not even a “sneaker head” so if you’re looking for somebody to give you insight on which Supreme x Nike Uptempo to cop I’m not that guy (but the all black ones are love tho). I’m just a guy with a love of shoes that buys what he likes and doesn’t really follow the trends. Every 3rd person has one of these lists; it’s normally comprised of 5 pairs of shoes and more times than not I feel the list pure garbage. How can anybody really consider any signature shoe from LeBron an essential shoe? To make my list of essential I’m think more of a go-to shoe a shoe that will be great for more for several seasons and work with abundance of different looks. Don’t you hate the “nah, these shoes on look good with joggers” shoe? I do.

1. The luxury sneaker – The Maison Margiela Replica

This shoe is based off of the original German Army Trainer hence the name “Replica”. The style has been done from everyone from of course Hugo Boss right down to SWIMS but Margiela does it the best. The best part about this shoe is it’s always at least 10 colorways on sale. The shoe runs $430 and $1000 but right this exact moment I’m on the actual Maison Margiela site and it’s a pair original for $480 marked down to $240; which is just $20 over the price of a pair of Foamposites at retail.

Honorable mention – and still… The Saint Laurent Paris SL10 High

2. The classic basketball sneaker – The Air Jordan 12

I’m a huge fan of the Air Jordan 1 and it’s always going to be my go to for a the classic basketball sneaker but due to the fact that the best OG colorways are becoming harder to obtain at retail price I can’t lead with it anymore. The Air Jordan 12 has always been a very cool and clean silhouette and due to it’s simplicity there are only a handful of awful colorways. You have to put your best foot forward to get a terrible looking pair of 12’s. They have great collaborations for the hypebeast (OVO, PSNY, etc…) and they still look great in the way less coveted low top option. You can walk into your local shoe store today and pick up a dope pair of 12’s with no fuss.

Honorable mention – Nike Dunk High (pretty much the AJ1 light)

3. The trainer/runner – The Adidas NMD

I have absolutely no idea what NMD stands for I came really close to googling it one day but I instantly got over it. What it stands for doesn’t matter, but what does matter is it has Boost and Boost is life; Boost is everything. Every Adidas shoe of note has Boost i.e. Yeezy’s and the Pure Boost. If you haven’t notice the trend this shoe also comes in a boat load of colorways but unlike the others they have several different versions. You have the OG R1, R2, CS2, CS1 XR1 and XR2 but I’d just stick with the OG R1 and the XR1. These shoes are highly obtainable at retail and below because Adidas seems to drop a new colorway or cook up a new way to do the same thing every 15 minutes. Typing this 3 new pairs of NMD’s have dropped.

Honorable mention – The Yeezy 350 V2 because they’re Yeezy’s

Blogger won't let me great and drop the images.

Google is your friend tho

Jean DeGrate has spoken and shit

Friday, June 23, 2017

Your Dreams are Ruining You

Dream - something that somebody hopes, longs, or is ambitious for, usually something difficult to attain or far removed from present circumstances

Hope is great. Dreams are fantastic. We all have dreams and we all hope to see them into fruition. Unfortunately it doesn’t always play out like. Dreams die every day b.  With that known it doesn’t create an air of caution within us.

Everybody wants to be a star and a boss

I remember when Rick Ross first started calling him the biggest boss then Maybach records took off and everybody in the building was a boss. Meek is a boss, Wale is a boss, Stalley a boss, Gunplay a boss and the rest of them random dudes that gave 8 bars on a mixtape was also bosses. I was confused. If everybody is a boss, who’s answering the phones? Who’s making the coffee? Who’s changing the toner in the printer? My grandmother told me when I was young everybody can’t be a Chief somebody got to be the Indians. Some people are built to be employees; some people are built to be a cog in the machine. We live in a society full of Betas pretending to be Alphas.

Unfounded confidence

People look at their dreams the same way people who have never been married look at people that got divorce. They did it wrong and for the wrong reasons. They have this air of arrogance combined with this can’t lose attitude and these halfcocked plans with little to no experience. These people don’t know the difference between a hustle and a business. It’s folks slanging diet tea right now and think it’s forever but this time next year it’s going to be a new weight loss crazy and some poor IG honies going to be stuck with 58 cases of tea in her mom’s garage collecting dust. If you say something to them that doesn’t line up with their grandiose plans for world domination you’re instantly a hater. They’ll argue you down why Rent Em Spoons is a million dollar idea. They’ll tell you how many times they needed to rent silverware and how many other people had the same dilemma. The thing is most of you have some truly stupid ideas. Like 75% trash. I’m talking to you future restaurant owner selling dinner plates via social media. I’m talking to you 30 year old government employee trying to create the next Instagram. I’m talking to you people chasing the same cliché dreams using the same formulas expecting game changing results.

The odds are against you

I got a homie Tray. In 2005 this man was bouncing in a strip club wearing a skull cap and rocking a jaw bone beard as a side hustle. Fast forward 12 years later and he has LGC security. LGC is in schools, securing major events and has over 80 full time and 200 part time employees. We always share these dollar and dream stories. We always glorify that one person that stepped out on faith and made it big. We never really talk about those 1000’s of people that stepped out on faith and had to step back in right quick. We never talk about not quitting your day job. We never say for every Tray and LGC there is 100 dudes still doing pat downs at dive bars. We’re so quick to tell someone to invest in themselves and their dreams instead of investing in solid financial goals. You can grind up 20k and invest in yourself or you can grind up 20k and invest in a 4 unit apartment building. It’s bigger than having “know how” and a great idea; you need opportunity and that opportunity may never come.

Manage your expectations

Everything is go big or go home; go bang or go bust. Being complacent is a death sentence. Mediocrity is a death sentence. Being regular is a death sentence. The American dream used to be a good job, 2 kids, a marriage and a home with a 2 car garage. Kids don’t even want regular occupations anymore. Folks put more energy in coming up with clever captions for IG pics than they do for their actual day job. Settle for living a good life and make everything else the icing on the cake. Secure the home. Secure the car. Secure the bag… and chase the dream on the side. If you put your all into your dream and fail what do have left for yourself beside a story of your failure?

Sometimes you give up on your dreams and sometimes your dreams give up on you
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Thursday, June 15, 2017

The Top 4 Reasons You Ended up in a Situationship?

Let me start off by defining a situationship…

Situationship - I would like to call it that grey area between dating and actually having a title of relationship but it’s not that cut and dry. Nope. Situationships reasonably entails all the so call relationship stuff sans the actual commitment and/or exclusiveness.  (And not that you washed a half a sink of dishes at your “friend’s” house relationship stuff; because y’all be reaching fam.)

In my personal research most situationships never make it to the relationship promise land.

Ok the natural or should I say the traditional trajectory is dating leading up to a committed relationship. In that transition a situationship pops up normally by the guidance of the male in the situation. So this is how you got here…

1. You’re not relationship material/You don’t check all the boxes

You ever heard the saying that “there is somebody for everybody”? Of course you have. Well that’s a lie. People die alone everyday B. There person you’re dating might fit in perfectly into your life but on the flipside your puzzle piece doesn’t do the same for them. As a default setting you’ll land in this situationship zone until you or the other person calls it quits. We all have criteria. Some of it is very hard lined and written in permanent magic marker, and some of it has is extra flexible. I.e. I could totally date an ugly girl with a crazy body with no regrets, but I could never call that unfortunate faced woman my girlfriend. No, no, no. The buck stops there. Some of you people come into a person’s life and are perfect for dating but you’re missing a few attributes that make good for a long term relationship.

2. You’re the sideline chick (or dude before you feminists blow up my spot) and you don’t even know it

You think it’s a situationship but it’s not. You’re riding the bench and stealing moments. The leading misdiagnoses of situationships are side line situations. Sorry. This thing you’re in is stagnate and your “partner” seems very complacent with the way things are then you know what it is homie.

3. Their heart belongs somewhere else

People are sometimes madly in love with someone that they are not with. It could be a break, a breakup or whatever the catalyst for them not being them; they aren’t in an emotional space to really give you a chance. You’re in this situationship with a person that pretty much using you for a number of reasons… You’re keeping the bed warm until the real bae comes back around. You’re a distraction and some people hate to be alone.

4. You’re feeling them WAY MORE than they are feeling you

Lopsided feelings commonly get misaddressed as commitment issues. Ego is blinding. You’re digging someone, y’all are vibing real good so you’re trying to hand them your heart and make it official but they are holding back. What else could it be? It has to be commitment issues; Lord forbid you’re head over heels for someone that see you in the same way. Nah, that couldn’t be it. But it is though and the person is going to ride that commitment phobe wave instead of keeping it 100 and say “Oh, I like you but not on that level yet”.

Yeah this is how you got here. You’re welcome
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Shut Up Old Men

I'm sick of the old school talking about the new wave. You’re in the barber shop bitter. You’re on social media bitter. Just running around complaining all the damn time and I swear my generation has the youngest old men ever. Dudes out here 35 years old talking about “back in my day” like they fought in Nam or some shit.


Somehow someway baggy jeans and masculinity goes together. The slimmer fit the pants the further diluted manhood becomes. We just leap frog all of the extra suspect entertainers that we came up with like Tupac wasn’t running around with a nose ring and a leather vest without a shirt like he just walked out of the Blue Oyster. We let Mystical cook for his entire career with a bob plait weave like he was the male Moesha while singing I’m the man right here. Nobody questioned it. Now everything is suspect. Now everything that strays away from what’s considered the norm by the dad jean wearing collective becomes a threat.

New Age rappers

I said a hip hop
Hippie to the hippie
The hip, hip a hop, and you don't stop, a rock it out
Bubba to the bang bang boogie, boobie to the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie the beat

These are the 1st 5 bars to the legendary track “Rapper’s Delight” and it’s epic garbage. GARBAGE. It’s funny how we love to pretend like every MC prior to the year 2000 was dropping Nas level lyrics on every track.  They weren’t.  Ever era has non rapping rappers and they are for the generation of that era. So if all these Lil 21 Uzi Yachty rappers are not for you, turn the station, change the channel, fire up some Rakim and be blessed.


LeBron didn’t ruin the NBA. Don’t compare him to compare him to MJ and Kobe that just managed not to get traded off at the whim of an owner for a better puzzle piece. DeMarcus Cousins found out mid all-star interview that he was traded to New Orleans in February. Can you imagine if you showed up work tomorrow and your boss told you he traded to another office on the other side of the country? I’m sure if your boss told you had to come in extra for the next 3 weekends you’d be ready to hand in your resignation.  But somehow the “fans” decided that a man taking his destiny into his own hands and cementing his legacy makes him less of a player. You expect him to be loyal to a team, a coach, an owner and a league that won’t be loyal to him in return and throw his life into disarray as soon as something better comes along. Nah. LeBron didn’t ruin the game by changing the rules he strengthen the players and the owners will have to adapt.

Your day is over it’s a new day
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Monday, June 5, 2017

The Fiend Next Door

I live in the hood. Not the rap hood but the real hood. I once stepped over a dead body on the way on my out to dinner (Hi Melissa). The next day there was a Teddy bear at my door step surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol. I still remember what my daughter said when she saw it “That Teddy bear sure is thirsty” it was hilarious and tragic all at the same time. This is just to give you the idea of where I live. I love the hood though. I love the noise, the people and the sense of community.


A guy, his wife and 3 kids had moved into the building next door. Let’s call the guy Dave because his name was Dave and I don’t really care if he comes across this. They always spoke whenever we’d cross paths during our comings and goings. Some days Dave would catch me outside jumping rope and roll up on me with some random small talk then joke about working his beer belly off. Regular neighborly shit.

That was pretty much the extent of our relationship until one day I was coming home after dropping the kid off to school. Dave ran up to the car frantically begging me to drop him off at the bus stop around the corner. Fuck it; why not? It wasn’t shit to me, I was just going in the house to sit on the couch and watch DVR for the next few hours. I told him to hop in and when I pulled around the corner to the bus stop his wife and 3 kids were standing there. The bus had come and gone and they missed it. Without asking for permission he hopped out and invited his entire family into my Lexus coupe. My coupe isn’t a comfortable fit for 3 adults so let alone 3 adults plus 3 midsized children. I was on the verge of flipping out for a split second then he told me they really needed to get to Bread for the City. You see people Bread for the City is a food dispensary for the under privileged and just happens to be one charities I donate to annually. Until that very moment I didn’t know they were next door struggling and that “Nigga if you don’t get the fuck out of my car” sitting on the tip of my tongue when right back down my throat from which it came. I drove the family cramped into my car the 15 or so blocks down the street, Dave thanked me and the family hopped out to stand in the food bag line. That shit was sad.

I rode home in silence.

It threw my whole swag off. I couldn’t imagine standing in line with Madi for free food not as a choice but as an only option other than starvation. If the lines for the free samples in Costco are too long I can’t even be bothered. I’m just not with the shit but here was a grown man, his wife and 3 sons standing in line to stock up their fridge. I was stuck because everything I seen from Dave prior to seemed to be on the level. Not that I knew any of the dealings in his life but he was always clean and so was his family. Just goes to show you never know what somebody is going through. I thanked God for my blessings and proceeded to watch the 3 episodes of ‘Person of Interest” waiting for me on DVR. The next day I saw Dave and he thank me and apologized for putting my out of my way but they really needed that ride. I was like no problem and then he told me his wife does dreds for the low if I was interested. Nah. I was good on all that. Sitting in his living room experiencing that poverty first hand listening to his kids’ stomachs growling would be a bit much for me. Once again; nah.

For the next 3 weeks or so our neighborly rapport returned to regular and then he ran up on me again parking my car.

Dave – I need a favor and I hate to ask you but I don’t have anyone else
JD – What’s up?
Dave – Could I borrow like 20 or 30 dollars until the first? We don’t have any food in the house right now.
JD – I got you.

I didn’t have any small bills and I wasn’t sure how a family of 5 could eat off of 30 bucks for an entire weekend let alone for almost 2 weeks until the first so I gave him a 50. I told him just get me back when he could. The first came and went and I did not see Dave. I finally ended up see him on the 5th and he acted as if he seen a ghost. He immediately went into the “something came up; I’m not ducking you but I just need a few more days” speech. I said don’t worry about it; I’m good just keep it. I mean I ain’t shit but I’m not ain’t shit to the level that I can’t let 50 slide to a family in need. Funny thing is after I told him to keep it I went back to seeing him every day. A couple more days passed and he hit me up for another 30 and I again gave him 50 but instead of letting him set up another payment date I told him to keep it off top. Look at me doing good deeds and shit.

Fast forward another week and I’m standing outside of my building talking to the homie Dion while smoking a black & mild and I see Dave in the distance motioning me over. I’m not walking over to this man so he can ask me for money so I motioning him over to me and as I’m doing that Dion turns to see who I’m summoning over. As soon as Dave’s eyes locked on Dion this man hit a U-turn and speed walked up the block.

Dion – You know that nigga?
JD – Yeah he lives in the next building and he be hitting me up for money here and there
Dion – You know he on coke right?
JD – Fuck you mean?
Dion – He stay coming to my homie around the corner copping with nothing less than 50 straight money.
JD – 50?
Dion – Like every other day he spending around there. You supporting the fiend.
JD – Bruh this nigga got a whole ass family they be hitting Bread for the City.
Dion – He’s a whole ass crackhead

I was dumb mad. I was fighting mad. Every time I saw this man walking up the sad little violin music would start playing in my head and he’s out here getting high on my dime. I bull shit you not I didn’t see this man for another month. By the time I did see him I had cooled down considerably but I still snatched him up on sight.

JD – You smoking coke?
Dave – No, I don’t…
JD – My man said he sees you buying coke all the time
Dave – It’s for my wife’s father. He’s too scared to buy it from the guys around the corner so he sends me
JD – You telling me this man sees his grandkids and daughter struggling but sends you to buy crack?
Dave – Yes
JD – Nigga you have to think I’m a fucking fool. You need to stay the fuck from around me.

I let him go and he quickly stepped his ass down the street with no further debate. The next morning on the way to work Dave and the whole family were posted up on the corner of Suitland Parkway and Naylor Rd panhandling to cars stuck at the light. He looked into my car briefly made eye contact then immediately looked over to the car behind me. For the next month I’d see the family hop from busy intersection to busy intersection panhandling as a unit. Talk about unity. Their building ending up catching on fire the next month and I never saw the family again.

I was buying coke in 3rd person
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Men cheat

And you women allow it.

Yeah that’s about it. Blog over. Enjoy the duration of your day.

Oh you need more than that?

Ok I got you.

On October 10th the year of our Lord 2002 the poet laureate Shawn Corey Carter professed on wax in a duet with his future wife…

“The problem is you dudes treat the one that you loving with the same respect that you treat the one that you humping. Now they about nothing; if ever you mad about something it won't be that; oh no it won't be that. I don't be at, places where we comfy at.”

Men cheat because we get away with it and it’s easy.

Your grandpa cheated on your grandma, your dad cheated on your mom and so on and so forth. Do you know hard it was to cheat without cellphones? In this day and age that’s just mind blowing but Denzel still managed to bring a whole ass side baby home to Viola Davis in “Fences” and that man didn’t even have a car. Now it’s way easier; it’s easier to cheat than it is to rent a car.

See here’s the thing the value of vagina has dropped greatly. The market is flooded. It used to take some charm, wit and oh yeah some fucking effort to get women naked. Now it’s like a free throw, I mean at this very moment I have nudes in my phone from women I’ve never even talked to on the phone. You would think that would be the minimum pre-requisite for something like that right? Before you go into this “What kind of women are coming across?” rant I’m coming across women you know. I’m coming across your girlfriends and they aren’t telling you all the shit they’re up. Some women are even proud side hoes on top of all the closeted side hoes.

Ok now we got that out of the way let’s get to how women allow it...

A man’s worth
Men have more intrinsic value in a relationship than women. I’m sorry ladies we do. It’s often over looked but it’s a 99% chance that the moment a man steps into your life he makes it better. We are problem solvers. We are handymen. We are the safety net. We’ll be your crutch. We’ll be your support system. We kill spiders, throw out the trash, open tightly sealed jars, put together Ikea furniture and get shit off of high selves. Once we’ve been around for a while women get used to these things. When a relationship ends it’s more than a void of intimate companionship but a void of services provided during the relationship. Who’s going to go downstairs when something goes bump in the night? Who’s going to take your car to the mechanic when it starts making that funny noise again? Who’s going to carry those 114 grocery bags in the house in one trip? Who’s going to pay the other half (or larger percentage) of the rent? Oh that’s your job again.

Women hate starting over
For people that get free meals and drinks and outings from guys that shower them with compliments in hopes of making some sort of connection, women really hate dating. Women hate hate hate allowing new men to entertain them. Instead of finding something new women would rather put a Band-Aid on relationship with infidelity. Toss some excuses on it and push thru is the typically formula. He cheated but you know where his heart is, nobody’s perfect and direct some blame on yourself. Yeah that’s pretty much the script. The risk factor is relativity low, if he even gets caught it might cost him a headache and a dozen roses for some side pussy that’s always within reach.

You’re giving away the sex
Average Joe’s are tossing up numbers like Kobe before the rape charge. Giving the pussy to the shift manager at Pep Boy’s isn’t going to prompt any girl to take morning after sneak pics like a James Harden. Dead beat baby daddies all the way up to the married preacher are getting this work because status doesn’t even matter. Like I previously stated vagina easily accessible and you women set the stage because you’re the ones in charge of handing out the pussy.

Men cheat because we can

Jean DeGrate has spoken

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

You Should Snitch

Quick heads up I’m not the center piece of this story.

I’m a firm believer that if you see the homie’s significant other acting out of pocket you should immediately let the homie know. I know people have apprehensions about the messenger getting shot and what not but if you can’t notify the homie when someone is doing them wrong then why is that the homie? Especially if the repercussions could be possibly devastating and you could have aided in the avoidance of the entire situation.

Anyway on with the story…

Let’s call the homie Mike and let’s call his girl Mary in the spirit of anonymity and shit.

In my younger days I used to section off my friends; I had my club friends, my hood friends, my basketball friends, my real friends and so on and so forth. Mike was a glorified club friend I used to see at the gym and then I kept running into when I was out in these streets. He was an excellent wingman next to Slick and Jolly he might have been the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. During our wingman adventures this man went out here and found love; it was like when Michael Jordan retired from the Bulls (the second time) it was the ending of an epic era. Fast forward 7 months and Mike and Mary moved in together I came to the house warming I bought them a fifth Hennessey VSOP and a George Forman grill. Mike went from club homie to “I’m getting the fight on PPV”/occasionally get a beer after work friend and of course I was still out in these streets.

Fast forward another few weeks and I’m out at Eye Bar on a Tuesday and it was lit because some of the bench warming Wizards were in the building. I’m standing at the bar and to my left stands Mary with a crew of her homies. She sees me and comes over to greet me with an overly friendly lingering hug. I did like Jamie Foxx and blamed it on the liquor. As the night passed she made her way over towards my section several times continuing to be very friendly and once even sitting on my lap. She was doing the absolute most but I was still going to stay on the blame it on the liquor path until I was heading out and saw pushed up against the wall kissing some dude whose hands were on her ass. Definitely an unignorably red flag and yup; I was snitching. I figure it wouldn’t be the best move to shoot off a text at quarter to midnight on a Tuesday to let Mike know her girl was out here wilding all the way out. I could imagine him there sitting in the living with the lights off smoking a cigarette waiting for her to drunkenly stumble in and then I’d see the end result on the morning news while getting dressed for work. Yeah, probably wouldn’t be the best. I decided, I’d just catch him at the gym tomorrow but he didn’t come, so I waited until 4:30pm on the dot and called him.

Mike – What’s up bro?
JD – I saw Mary out last night…
Mike – Yeah told me
JD – Bro, she was out there wilding all the way the fuck out. I was leaving out and some random dude was tonging her down with both hands on the cheeks.
Mike – Oh yeah?
JD – Nigga
Mike – Stop playing with me
JD – Nigga, go handle that ASAP
Mike – Good looking out son. I appreciate you.
JD – It’s nothing son. Gone.

I didn’t hear from Mike after that; not that I was expecting him to give me an update. I didn’t even see him in the gym for whole month and when I did he looked at me sideways, but I just went to get about my issue. We ended up leaving out at the same time so I rolled up on him…

JD – What’s up kid?
Mike – Nothing is up. Mary told me about all you were doing that night.
JD – All I was doing?
Mike – She told me you were trying to feel her up and shit.
JD – Me?
Mike – Yeah nigga you
JD – So after I called you and said what I said you spoke to her and then she said whatever?
Mike – Yeah she wasn’t trying to fuck up our friendship
JD – OK kid you be cool like you be cool

I stepped off right then and there. He never called my phone, hit me up on social media; he ceased to exist the moment I turned my back.

Fast forward 4 years later and I’m in Target minding my fucking business and attempting to spend less than $100. I’m browsing the Blue Ray aisle looking for some of those $5 gems and I hear someone yelling my name. I look left. I look right. I don’t see a familiar face now I’m back to eyeballing this director’s cut edition of Terminator 2 and I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see a guy with dreds and a beard looking me in my face “Jean”. It was Mike but he was clean cut and a few pounds lighter the last time I saw him so I had no fucking idea who he was. This was also the beginning of the era that random people from the internet was running up on me to tell me I’m funny. Anyway it was Mike, but instead of doing another JD/Mike back and forth section I’m just going to give you the gist of it…

Mike and Mary continued to date and cohabitate. Mary ended up pregnant and Mike went to Jared to cop a ring. The kid was born. He was playing daddy for a whole year and a half. Then one day he was leaving out of the apartment building and some random dude came to him woman to woman in the parking to tell him his son might not be his son. Fast forward to a nasty break-up, a broken lease, a DNA test and a few court dates later and Mike’s baby turned out not to be his baby. Parking lot dude was the real father off some Maury shit. Life comes at you fast. Yeah he really shed his entire soul in the Blue Ray aisle and I was still holding the director’s cut edition of Terminator 2.

Mike – I was tripping back then because you only wanted to put me up on game
JD – Shit happens. You live. You learn.

After that we had that awkward “what you been up to/we should hang out like old times” convo for about 5 minutes. I ended up not buying the director’s cut edition of Terminator 2 and still managed to spend well over $100 for those that were wondering.

The moral of the story is trust the homie when the homie is telling you about snakes in your yard
Jean DeGrate has spoken

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

I might be a hoe

Or at least a tad bit forgetful

Anyway I have a story to tell and something on one of my Facebook status updates just reminded me. So here we go…

Let’s rewind back a few years to the good old days when you weren’t required to have a separate app to check your messages on Facebook. The golden era; insert several heart eyed emojis.

History has taught me that women will shut down and delete a social media account at the drop of a dime. They will also change a phone number like Sprint ain’t charging them for it. Any type of drama will prompt these actions and I do mean any kind; heartbreak, bird shit on the windshield, missed the season finale of Empire, her son got an F in PE, etc…

That entire passage above is kind of a cop out for what’s coming next. That doesn’t make it any less TRUE but it’s still a cop out. Father forgive me.

Sometimes my Facebook is lit. Sometimes girls slide in my DM’s and on a much smaller occasion I respond. This is the story of what happened when I responded this one time.

So I’m just kicking on the timeline talking my shit per usual trying to get through another the work day and I get a friend request from a cute girl. I went thru standard protocol when a cute girl sends you a friend; you know the Catfish/Scammer/Spammer test, scroll thru a few pictures, see if her timeline goes back further than a month, see if she has any friends in common that aren’t thirsty ass dudes and read a few status updates. If everything lines up I click accept and immediately forget she exist. Let’s call her Shay in the spirit of anonymity. Fast forward a couple of days later and Shay is in my inbox. Women rarely ever go smack (smack – the act of being direct in an aggressive nature) in the DM’s. They’ll small talk you to death waiting for you to shoot your shot and I let her small talk me for 3 days. We’d exchange short bursts of dialog throughout the day to the point that she was asking me about the family shit was getting kind of personal. She forced my hand and trying to hold detailed conversations while typing with my thumbs wasn’t exactly the wave. I couldn’t go back and forth anymore with the small talk so I gave her my number. Now we talking on the phone, flirting and shit; she even shot the boy a few almost nudes. I spread this thing out over a few weeks before asking her out. I figured she wasn’t going to ask so I did it.

The plan was to meet up for drinks at some arbitrary restaurant/bar in downtown DC and in classic woman fashion she was running a bit behind so instead of walking inside and waiting like a lonely nigga I stood outside while smoking a black and mild. I saw her walking up from like 10 yards out and she sort of looked familiar, but not familiar in “you look just like your pictures” familiar it was more like “I think I know you in real life” familiar. Anyway I shrugged it then off greeted her with a hug and proceeded to enter the spot. We grabbed seats at the bar and I asked her what she was drinking. We cut through a couple appetizers and a few rounds. It was shaping up into being a great night or so I thought. She got up to use the bathroom and in her absence I ordered the shrimp cocktail. It was the beginning of the end and I didn’t even know it.

She gets back to the bar at the exact same moment the bartender placed the shrimp cocktail in front of me.

Shay – You greedy and you didn’t even order me anything.

JD – You can have some. These are community shrimp.

Shay – You know I’m allergic to shrimp.

JD – Do I?

Shay – I told you.

JD – Did you?

Shay – I told you when we were supposed to go to McCormick & Schmick’s

JD – When was that?

Shay – Oh my God. You don’t know who I am do you?

JD – What’s going on here?

It was a bit more dialog after that but it was mostly profanity based so the super abridged version is “We’ve had sex and you don’t know who the fuck I am; FUCK YOU” and then she stormed out of the restaurant. Pretty much everybody within earshot was staring at me and I’m not 100% sure there isn’t a video of me getting cursed out at the bar floating around the internet somewhere. After I finished my drink and paid the tab I doubled back to Facebook to look thru her pictures hoping to jog my memory, but she was way too swift I was already blocked. I thought of calling and texting but would I say “Hey I don’t remember you but I’d like to know you again.” Yeah, that probably wouldn’t go off well. I spent the greater portion of the trip home trying to figure out who she was and yup you guessed it, no dice. I still don’t know who she is or was and here where are years later.

Does that make me a hoe because I don’t remember a woman I slept with?

Jean DeGrate is perplexed. No I’m not. I’m a hoe

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

He Switched Up and Fell Off After You Let Him Hit

He Switched Up and Fell Off After You Let Him Hit. Switched up (in this instance) – to drastically change behavior towards party or parties involved in a romantic/sexual situation. There are 3 main reasons men switch up after 1 to 3 visits to the vagina; 1. He is already involved in a relationship/situationship that he doesn’t wish to gamble with any further with his current status. This shit should cover all the explanation needed and sometimes men ain’t shit. It’s the cost of doing business. 2. He was exclusively interested in sex. All the sweet talk, wining and dining was all means to an end. All that say what you want and keep it 100 foolishness doesn’t actually work so the game is the game. Life comes at you fast. 3. The box was trash or at least not good enough to support your other perceived character flaws and package. More eloquently the juice isn’t worth the squeeze. Today I’m here to expound on this so let’s go… Everything isn’t for everybody... This is normally when I say your pussy isn’t the great equalizer. Normally I would say life should have shown you by now that your vagina isn’t the game changer. Today I won’t say that. I’m going to go with a different approach. I like chocolate cake. I almost exclusively eat chocolate cake. It’s safe to say I’m a chocolate cake type of guy. I also know chocolate cake isn’t for everybody but it’s perfect for me. Ya’ll see where I’m going with this right? Oh ok, good. You might have some pound cake pussy and once a guy like me comes across your pound cake pussy (which isn’t bad pussy) other things come into factor which leads me to my next point… We all have our pros and cons... It’s a strong possibility that you’re not as dope as you think you are. We as people tend to side step most of our character flaws and pat ourselves on the back for things we’re supposed to do as adults and decent human beings. Like being in shape, taking care of your kids, paying your own bills, being employed, staying out of jail and shit like that. I mean if you accomplished all of that it’s dope for you for managing to be fucking average. Scroll to the bottom of this post and I have a trophy with your name on it. Sometimes your particular combination of attributes, baggage, morals, assets and character flaws doesn’t really go over as well as you might imagine with potential suitors but they’re holding out to see what that pussy is hitting on. You meet a guy however you meet a guy... We all know the game has changed and we are all a bit phony (some of you are an outright sham) so when he pulls up at happy hour or slides in your DM’s after strategically liking pictures for the last 3 months while waiting to see if a boyfriend pops up; either way he’s here now. He’s on your line and you’re on his. He makes you smile and you tell him silly shit like “You lucky I like you a little bit” but you don’t know him and he doesn’t know you. Everybody is putting their best foot forward and hiding their hands. You don’t know he has an 8 year car note for 1200 on that 2014 S Class Benz and he doesn’t know that under that layer of Mac foundation the bumps on your forehead look like braille. Then he captures the flag... Ok 12 DM’s, 45 “Good Morning” text messages, 6 $200 dates, 7 nudes, 3 car make out sessions and 1 Netflix & chill later, now here we are. After first time sex it’s a time of reflection. Your value to our life is being evaluated and we’re going down a list. It’s shallow shit on the list like that weird mole on your neck with 3 hairs growing out of it that you refuse to pluck or the fact that you think The Fresh Prince of Bel Air is a better show than Martin. It’s important shit like you work a job that you love instead of taking a job where you could cash out with your degrees or the fact that you live in Waldorf which technically makes you an immigrant and Trump could close off the borders at any moment. Post vagina you can really see a person’s life in HD and the sex is a determining factor on the path we take from there. Pre-cheeks he might have thought you were the one and now you’re a “You up?” text at 3 am after the club or worst you might get your contact info deleted. It’s a lot of pressure on that pussy boo Jean DeGrate has spoken P.S. for those unfamiliar with Waldorf it’s the most northern province of Zamunda

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Part 2 of The Get Down Sucked and I’m Going To Tell You Why

I know this is my unpopular opinion but the first half of “The Get Down” was just ok. Maybe if I was from BX and I rode the 6 train and I lived in a bodega and I wore tan Tims to prom it probably would have tugged on all of my heart strings. Unfortunately I was born and raised in DC with a black mayor, black police and pretty much everything else black. Total side note DC was once the black utopia; you know like what they pretend what Atlanta is but doesn’t come compare. Back on task… the first half was cute and shit on some after school special with a dope nostalgic sound track plus they casted a dude that looks just like Grandmaster Flash. If the series was just 6 episodes I would have been like “Yeah that was cool I don’t need anything else”. But nope they gave us 5 extra episodes of wild ass fuck shit.

Before I get into this if anybody gets on this “you’re downing our black films and entertainment” you people are the reason Tyler Perry had 150 movies starring himself in a dress and a grey wing.

The cartoon
I don’t know what budget cuts, new writers or filming conflicts that motivated the switch to the Fat Albert style animation for every 4th scene but the shit was rubbish. The whole Jaden Smith mailing letters via paper plane to homie/boyfriend in prison was extra trippy and way over the top. Every segue passed thru a corny little cartoon world like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” in shades of brown. I sat there and suffered through it waiting for a payoff that never came; waiting for some sort of purposeful explanation to it all.

Shaolin Fantastic Lost His Fucking Mind
On the first half Shaolin was a reluctant drug dealer, graffiti artist and wannabe DJ carrying crates of records for Grandmaster Flash. He even walked away from the dope game momentarily and tried to be a full time DJ. The second half Shaolin went full on ape shit. He pull up to Zeke’s Catalina Wine Mixer internship on a dirt bike causing a scene and then whips out a pistol on some cocaine snorting white boys in the bathroom. You know how crazy that is that your homie pulls you off the job and yall ride off into the sunset on a dirt bike like you don’t have to see these people tomorrow?  He pistol whipped drug lord Fat Annie over record deals and has the whole crew on the run from a team of killers. Not to mention he was moving the most dope during every event; I felt like I was watching an episode of Power.

Mylene is the coldest chick alive
Mylene went from being a church girl with disco dreams being passionately pursued by Zeke (who seemed to be the only character that didn’t radically change from part one to part two) to being forced into being the figure head of her “father’s” mega church dreams. That arch was realistic. Ramon Cruz was definitely riding her wave and vehemently attempting to drive her career while she was trying to break out into her own lane. Then she found her “dad” dead from a suicide in his church and nothing made sense ever again. She found out Papa Fuerte was her dad, went to Ramon Cruz’s funeral then ran off to Jackie Moreno’s apartment where they and a team of cross dressers wrote a song. Turned around and solidified a movie deal gave Zeke a kiss and ran off to Hollywood. Oh and left moms solo dolo in the projects.

All the other fuck shit
I can’t even begin to imagine how 3 teenaged boys get punished and forced to give up hip hop then immediately turn around to doing shows, going on dates, selling dope and Dizzee overdosed. I had to watch it again because somehow someway Ron Cephas Jones was a better dad on “This is Us” as former junkie dying of cancer then he was as a live in father on The Get Down.  How was Shaolin getting all this money still living in an abandon building? He wasn’t about that secure door life? I’m still befuddled about that. The last episode I guess the writers and director was like “we not about to do 2 more episodes so everything got to get crammed into this.” Pape Fuerte caught a charge out of nowhere.  Cadillac quit being a gangster after being forced to attend a rap concert and decided to chase his dreams of getting “Disco Biscuit” on the radio.  Fat Annie (who may have molested her son Cadillac) shot a kitten and patched things up with Shaolin (whose real name is Curtis like that was some sort of fucking big reveal).

Nope it was trash writing this made me angry
Jean DeGrate has spoken