Twanna A. Hines @ FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com | sex. dating. relationships.

A Post-It Note For NYC

Lately, I’ve had a few days where I’ve thought: “I really don’t like the way that my life is turning out in this city right now.” I’ve had jobs that match my skills, feed my passions, and pay my bills before, but I don’t have that now. And, I wonder when/if I’ll find it again. I’ve also wondered: How bad does “bad” have to get before you decide that a situation isn’t working? More than once, I’ve seriously considered whether or not I should simply call it quits and move back to Illinois in order to save my ever-deteriorating financial situation. Whenever I have these doubts, I try to do something “Ridiculously New York City”. I go to Times Square. I score cheap Broadway tickets at the half-price ticket booth. Or, I walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. The activity usually reminds why I love New York and reenergizes my commitment to stay here.

Yesterday? Yesterday, I went to Central Park. New York City’s “backyard”, Central Park is honestly one of the most beautiful places on earth. And, this time of year, it’s amazingly beautiful. The air is slightly crisp, flowers are in bloom, the grass is bright green, trees are coming back to life, and evidence of spring is all around. It’s nice to know that, no matter where I am in the city, the park is no more than a subway ride away. So my recent trip to the park, as always, was definitely worth the visit. It totally cured my case of the blues. Ahhh … New York. Even though life gets pretty tough here from time to time (and, lately, more that usual), I still really love this place. If this city was a lover, I’d write it a love letter to express how much I care. In the meantime, I’ll keep my unoriginal comments yellow-post-it-note brief: “I *HEART* New York.”

Please use the comments link below to write a Post-It note to *your* city.

April 28th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [11] folks got down with the Funky Brown

Cheap Asses Have More Fun

Nothing excites me more than a great deal. The other day, I buy a pair of the most fabulous sunglasses ever. Where? Street vendor. How much? $5. I tell Bro, “OMG, the guy wanted, like, $10, but I told him that I wasn’t paying more than $5. We fought. He eventually caved. $5!! Isn’t that great?!” Bro’s response: “Don’t be such a fucking cheap-ass!” I can’t help it; I love a great deal. And, today, I thought I’d treat you to a few of my favorite places to get deals in New York City. Shhhh! I’m only sharing this information with: faithful readers, my legion of lurkers, and the occasional MSN-searcher(s) who arrive(s) here on accident …

Soy Luck Club. [ Website ]
Vegan coffee shops aren’t usually my thing, but this place is great! Not only do their soy milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard, they also serve (some of) their food with real meat. Yummy & inexpensive. What more could you want? Oh yeah, and, bring your laptop. They have **free** Wi-Fi.

Bad Ass Chinese Mafia [ Website ]
Handbag, handbag, purse … You need handbag? Negotiate a little, you get respect. Negotiation too much, you loose your life. This is serious stuff — underground Prada knockoffs. I like to take my out-of-town guests to Canal Street when they visit. Why? Because my guests like the bags … and *I* like to feel like a real tough New Yorker who isn’t afraid to take on the Chinese mafia. Bring it on, bitches!

Tenant.net [ Website ]
These sexy volunteers, lawyers and organizations make it their business to inform NYC tenants of their housing rights without charging us for their services. How fucking cool is that?! If you are able, regardless of where in the world you live, please support these organizations. (My favorite, WSTU, is solely supported by individual $25 donations / membership dues. Send them a check today!)

The Strand [ Website ]
Boasting 18 miles of new and used books, The Strand is a “fiercely independent family business”. I honestly think I’d cry if this place ever went out of business. Sure Barnes & Noble and Borders are nice places to buy books, but isn’t it great to support the “little guy” every now and then?

NYC Free Events [ Website ]
If a free event is happening in New York City, it’s probably listed on this site. Find out which free event taking place tonight features the model, actress and author Jenny McCarthy. (NOTE: I was on television with her in LA several years ago.) Hundreds of other free events await you, and they are only one click away …

Now that I have showed you mine, it’s time for you to show me yours. People who read the Funky Brown Chick — for example, *you*, you gorgeous and amazing reader — come from all over this little globe; so, tell me, what are some of your favorite places to get a good deal in your own city? (If you’re a fellow New Yorker, tell me where *you* go to get great deals here.)

April 26th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [19] folks got down with the Funky Brown

The Evolution of the White Male Rapper

Almost two weeks ago today, Proof—hip-hop artist and comrade of Eminem—lost his life to gun violence. This is, indeed, a tragedy. In a statement, Eminem expresses his deep sorrow by saying, “Without Proof’s guidance and encouragement there would have been a Marshall Mathers, but probably not an Eminem and certainly never a Slim Shady.” The statement makes me think: what. the. fuck? I don’t doubt that Proof was a significant force in Eminem’s artistic career; however, Eminem / Marshall / whatever-the-fuck-he-wants-to-be-called needs to get over himself. There were “Slim Shadies” before him, and there will certainly be others after him. Folks, gather round for an exploration of “The Evolution of the White Male Rapper”:

Beastie Boys

Beastie BoysBeastie Boys
Never before and never since have Jewish guys from Brooklyn been so cool. Anyone who lived through the 80s knows that their song, “(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party)”, literally changed the music of the decade. Although technically a combo of rock/punk/rap, these guys are probably the first official “white male rappers.” 

Vanilla Ice
OMG! Where do I even begin with this guy?!?! Remember “Ice Ice Baby”? The song topped the charts in the 90s; however, eventually, the ice thawed and Vanilla became the butt of every joke about white rappers. The show In Living Color aired a parody of “Ice Ice Baby”, called “White White Baby”, featuring a young Jim Carrey as Vanilla Ice.

Snow

SnowSnow
Who knew Canadians came equipped with “12 Inches of Snow”? Honestly, that’s just too much; I think it would hurt. But, anyway … Informer. You know sa dada da da data daaaada a licky boom boom now! NO ONE knew the lyrics to that fucking song. (By the way, In Living Color also aired a Snow parody video as well.) 

Eminem

EminemEminem
Five white rappers later, Eminem emerges. Although he isn’t the first successful white rapper, he’s undoubtedly the first one that ever gained even an ounce of street cred and respect. Hey, he’s from Detroit. I hear the folks roll hard in 8 Mile. And, when Eminem raps about how tough he had it as a kid, I believe him. (NOTE: I saw Eminem in concert a few years ago.) 

So, there you have it. Everything that you ever wanted to know about the history of the American White Male Rapper. Eminem wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last. Even Eminem himself predicts that others will follow in his footsteps: “I am the worst thing since Elvis Presley / To do black music so selfishly / And use it to get myself wealthy / (Hey!) There’s a concept that works / 20 million other white rappers emerge.” Now, I’m not so sure about his math, but he may be on to something with this whole “20 million other white rappers” stuff. Hmmm, I wonder who’s next …

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PS: For your reading pleasure, this post is also available in “White Male Rapper Speak”. Click HERE for an automatic translation courtesy of Gizoogle.com … Word to ya’ mutha!

April 24th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [20] folks got down with the Funky Brown

Where Do You Like To Be Kissed?

Did you know that the human body supposedly has over 8,000 nerve endings? Although most people get it on by stimulating dorsal nerves, there are tons of nerve endings in other places that are often neglected. And, those places are pretty sensuous. In case you missed it in yesterday’s comment section, I once licked a bald man’s head. And, yes, the scalp is one of my favorite neglected sensuous areas. A few other favorites include: behind the knee, the bottom of my feet, along my spine, my palm & finger tips, my wrist, the side of my waist and behind my ears. I go CRAZY when men stroke, lick, or suck any of these areas.

But, for now, my all-time-favorite sensuous place is below the neck, right above the place in between my shoulder blades. No one ever touches that area. So, when they do … oh boy. I. LOVE. IT. Last summer, I was wearing a backless sundress on the L train heading west from Union Square when a totally gorgeous guy entered the train. He was holding some big bag, like an instrument or hockey sticks or something. I’m not exactly sure what it was; the train was crowded. Anyway, the train started and then came to a quick stop. The guy stumbled a bit and the cloth of his bag touched my all-time-favorite spot. I got goose bumps all over and I wanted to jump the man right then and there. And, once the train started up again, I stepped back an inch or two so that the bag would continue to hit my spot. Does that make me a perv?

Use the comment section to let me know if you think I am a perv. KIDDING!! No, really, use the comments to let us know one of *your* All-Time-Favorite Spots. Keep it PG-13, folks; some of you guys are at work.

April 20th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [25] folks got down with the Funky Brown

How to Date Hot Men

Over the past year or two, I’ve been thinking a lot about how and why I pick the guys that I do. I know my current “flavor of the month” when I see it. He spends a lot of time and money to make sure that he has the right hair, teeth, clothes, and a hot body to boot. Hot NYPD Guy goes to the gym every single day of his life. Le Canadien keeps a huge vat of product in his bathroom and I think he spends upwards of $100 for a haircut; Blondie pays his colorist/stylist a fuckload of money to make his blonde highlights look au natural. But, the boys are hot. I’m so predictable in the types of guys that I date that Mags often tells me, “hey I saw a Twannaboy the other day.” Even she knows my type when she sees it. So, how do I find these guys?

I’ve told this story before, but I’ll tell it again here. Rewind. I’m dating a total pothead from Spain. I ask him how someone from Spain knows where to find drugs in the US. His reply? “People who want to find each other, find each other.” Druggies find drug dealers. Wife beaters find women with low self esteem. And, people who think that beauty is what’s on the outside find other people who believe the same.

I’ve dated hot guys because, well, I like the way they look. And, guess what they answer when I ask them: so, what made you approach me; what attracted you to me? (HINT: If you guessed that they say, “Because I think you’re hot”, you’re a winner.) Mags once told me, “you know, with the guys that you date, I think the initial attraction is just that you think he’s hot and he thinks you’re hot so you guys date so that you can be hot together.” But there’s a catch. Although the outsides are beautiful, some of the insides of the guys that I’ve dated are downright ugly. Le Canadien can be somewhat of a playboy. Blondie would actually scream at me when he got angry. And, when the ugly behavior behind the cute face rears its head: I split.

It’s like I’m setting myself up for failure. I date the hot guy. But, if he’s an asshole (and he usually is) I get out of the relationship because, well, it’s what’s in the *inside* that really counts. But, then I simply replace the old hot guy with a new hot one and repeat the cycle. Why? Because, *I* am just like *them*. I don’t think that I’m ugly on the inside, I don’t own a huge vat of product, I don’t scream at people, and I don’t display freakishly asocial behavior. But I, like them, believe that beauty is on the outside.

So, that’s the secret: believe it too. Go to the gym a lot and work out like hell because you believe that guys care more about your flat stomach and strong abs than they do about your passions and your interests. Wear cute clothes and high heels because you believe it’s THAT, not your intellect, that makes the guy walk from the other side of the room and come talk to you. Do all of these things to make yourself beautiful on the outside and, trust me, you’ll find the beautiful guy. Or, more appropriately: you’ll find each other.

April 19th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [17] folks got down with the Funky Brown

Live from, um, what is this? Central Park.

The funniest thing happened to me when I was on my way to meet my friend Mel for a nice, springtime stroll through Central Park. Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t exactly say it’s the funniest thing — it’s more like “the most disturbing thing”. Anyway, here it goes. Live from Central Park. (NOTE: Oh yeah, by the way, this post should also be known as “A Few Words on Puberty in New York City.”)

April 16th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [11] folks got down with the Funky Brown

Protected: Questions About The Girl Behind the Blog

April 14th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | Enter your password to view comments

Ask Me About: Love. Friends. Religion. Sex. Life.

Do you read the blog Baby Jewels Hates You? If not, you should. She’s funny. The other day, she had a brilliant idea for her blog. And, because I like the idea so much, I’ve decided to steal borrow it for today’s post.

Rewind. Last Wednesday. Baby Jewels allows all of her readers—longtimers as well as firsttimers—to ask her any question they’d like. Her promise? No question will go unanswered. Some of her readers’ questions are pretty straight forward: “How old are you?” Baby Jewels: “40.” One question, from a reader named Kerri, is a bit more interesting: “Why do ‘birds of a feather flock together?’” Baby Jewel’s witty response: “Because birds are racist separatists, Kerri. That’s why God created Bird Flu. He’s hates those little bastards.”

Okay, now, lifting the idea from one blog (hers) and placing it onto another (mine), here’s the deal … Use the “comment” link below to ask me a question. Keeping with the rules of the game: (1) You have to post your question before the deadline*; (2) You can ask me about anything; and (3) No question will go unanswered. It doesn’t matter if you’re the guy who’s lurking from Scotland, the first time visitor from Germany, one of the regular readers from Texas, or anyone else — this is your chance. Ready? Ask away little ones, ask away …

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* You have until Thursday, 11:59PM New York City time, to post your question / questions. I’ll post the answers Friday morning.

April 12th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [26] folks got down with the Funky Brown