Thursday, May 20, 2010

Gotta Get It Up To Get Down

On the way to work this morning I was thinking about my blog - what I'd write about, how I'd write it...shit like that. Then as I started to write it I realized how lame it was. You know when you're about to make a joke, but then you realize it sucks so you don't make it? Probably not because odds are you're not funny. But I am - and I know. The almost-blog entry I made is similar to that notion.

Editor's Note: This has nothing to do with the above, but it's my blog so eat it. I just talked to my buddy Rick, who I spent a lot of time with last weekend. I had completely forgotten that he was beefin' with this psycho girl he's seeing - or was seeing...I don't even know anymore - and over the weekend she called him 50 times. That's no exaggeration. I was around for at least 15 of those phone calls.

Starting to get the urge to smoke weed again; also kind of want to do coke in Atlantic City tomorrow. Ace told me to never write about doing coke because it's "jailtime illegal," so I guess I'll just write about how I want to do it. There's a difference between robbing a bank and wanting to rob a bank.

On a separate note, if I was black I'd be an awesome rapper. Instead I'm a pasty jew from the 'burbs who really has nothing to rap about except being from the suburbs. That doesn't work very well with the mainstream - Bloodhound Gang tried it and the only mainstream hit they had was "The Bad Touch," aka "The Discovery Channel Song," and that wasn't really rap. So yeah, I don't have the urban experiences that people want to hear about; just those of a 'not rich, but comfortable' kid who for the most part stays out of trouble. "I never got held up, never got arrested, but I fucked a bunch of bitches so I better get tested..."


That reminds me of my buddy Elmer - he was my roommate in college for a year and a half and as many of you know, we had a lot of parties. Probably more than you. That's not bragging by any means - it probably took 5-6 years off my life - but I'd like to think it was worth it.

Anyway, because we got down like gophers it meant that there was a lot of dancing goin on. Now as dudes from the 'burbs, we didn't dance growing up - we didn't have hood dudes with boomboxes fuckin around while Asian kids b-boy'd on cardboard boxes. We just had to do what any virgin would do - learn as we'd go along.

Editor's Note: Luckily I also had Toby as a Asian kid from Queens who would b-boy on cardboard boxes. Little did many of our party attendees know is that every time he would do that sick windmill breakdance move, he was hammered, which subsequently resulted in him vomiting.

One time me, Elmer and a group of us went upstate to see Ace in Binghamton. We went to a bar and a piss-drunk Elmer wasn't even trying to dance with girls: He was just by himself, zoned in, sweating his balls off, gettin' down like he was in Saturday Night Fever. So I asked him, "Do you think about it when you dance, or do you just do it?" He responded, "I just pretend like I'm a black guy." Incredible response.

Unlike Elmer, however (sorry buddy), I inherently encompass slightly more rhythm, so I'm confident enough to say that I am now a good dancer. I think I passed the ultimate test about four months ago when I was at a bar: I was flirting with this big black chick and she was with her black gay friend. After some shots we went upstairs to dance. She sucked so I danced by myself to whatever hip-hop was on. The gay dude went up to me and said, "Wow, you're a good dancer." If that doesn't tell me I am than I don't know what does.

Editor's Note: For any white boy with little-to-no-to-some rhythm, here's my small piece of advice: Listen to the song and react to the beat - dancing to rap is like having sex with a woman who doesn't want you to bang her too hard. Take it easy and don't overdo it - it's all in the shoulders and the hips. And watch the spin moves...I learned that from dating a Spanish dancer. If any of my female college friends are reading this, they know I was the biggest 'white-boy-spin-move' culprit out of everyone.

Now as I've been a better dancer I haven't been pickier per se, but I certainly judge other women more so than I used to. Basically white women aren't any better than white guys - they're just more willing to dance and they know that most dudes don't give a fuck anyway. As long as the behind grinds on the weiner typically there are no complaints.

I had one of those intense bar hookups a few weeks ago with a white chick and we were dancing and making out for like an hour. At first the dancing was face-to-face. Then I started doing the flirty thing - you know, touching the back of her neck, the elbow, the ear...those little spots that get a lady all steamy. Then she turned around and threw the booty on me: I wasn't impressed. Don't get me wrong, I definitely didn't stop dancing with her - I'm not a fucking idiot - but she didn't have the rhythm down.

You guys know the deal...the kid's an ass man. Certifiable. I got my ass-man certification when I was 16 years old. That's my No. 1 quality in a female. And if a woman knows how to manipulate her ass, it's the sexiest thing in the world. If she doesn't? Hopefully she sticks with me long enough to get the rhythm down. Because as sexy as it is to be with a woman who can dance, it's that much sexier to get a woman to be able to dance. That's part of the reason why I'm arguably the most fun guy to go to a strip club with.

Post-entry Editor's Note: I just went to the bathroom, and there's this guy in my building with one arm who was in there too. I'm not trying to be a dick, but come on man...just because you only have one hand it doesn't mean you don't have to wash it.

1 comment:

Valerie said...

excellent. i'm one of the rare white girls that actually can dance, but I'm not the typical "grinding ass" type. I mean, yes, i'll do that if the feeling should arise, but i'm usually in the middle of the dance circle, among the black people. if they accept my dance moves, and every once in a while give a "oh snap!" well, to me, then it's like the gay guy telling you you're good: justifies your dance moves right then and there.