Okay, so, I have a blog and I routinely post details about my life and my dates in New York City. But, even online, some things are private. The post below is password protected. I’ve emailed the password to people I know personally and a few of my longtime readers. If I’ve accidentally forgotten about you, email me if you need a password. And, speaking of my longtime readers … the easiest way for me to know who you are is if you’ve emailed me personally and/or commented on this site over a long period of time. Comments are like fingerprints that help me tell the difference between someone who has been here once and someone who has been here, say, every weekday for the past six months. Does this mean that I have no love for my lurkers? Of course it doesn’t. There’s definitely FBC love for you, too — just, you know, no password. See? Commenting has its privileges.

I love nuts. Gym nuts, that is. Seriously. I really like it when guys go to the gym on a regular basis. When I lived in Chicago, my preferred gym routine included a 2-hour workout every other day. I’d start with a 30-minute cardio warmup, and then I’d work my way into a hardcore 1-hour kickboxing class. After that, it was a 30-minute cooldown on the treadmill or stairmaster. I had a hard body, and I felt good. Each of my former boyfriends and boytoys LOVED it. In fact, when I was in Chicago recently, I quickly met up with a friend / former fling — an unbelievably sexy Latino who shall remain nameless for both of our sakes. He told me that he missed my ass. Literally. He said, “Ah, I remember how tight your ass was. I like that. That’s great.” I’m glad that he likes my ass because I like that sexy Latino. Truth be told, he’s honestly one of the best kissers in the whole world and he’s really good in bed. Unfortunately, our lips were the only things that were reunited during this particular trip. Maaaan, thinking about that boy got me all hot and bothered again just now. Wait. Fuck. Where was I? What was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Gym nuts.

Okay, so, I went on a date with a fellow gym nut — Richard — last night. He’s got a nice firm body, and a cute face to match. You can read all of the details about the date over on Nerve. The post has a long title because it’s actually a line from a movie. For short, since my date’s name is Richard, let’s call the Nerve post “Dick is Good.” And, of course, three movie buff points go to the FBC reader who can name this movie quote: “He’s brought dignity back to the name Dick. Come on, say it with me now … Dick is Good! Dick is Good!”

Fret not. This post isn’t about dolphins. I only put up the cute little dolphin picture to your left so that my friend Mags would actually read what I write today. Why will she read it? Because dolphins are safe. Here, lemme tell you what happened. Rewind to yesterday. Last night, I was on the phone with my friends Mags and Bro. We’ve known each other for almost fifteen years and — almost every single day — we touch base with each other via a long distance three-way telephone call from New York to Washington, D.C. Yup, we’re close. In fact, we’re such good friends and I wrote an article about our friendship in general (and sustaining longterm friendships in particular), and I pitched it to a magazine. My piece comes out in print in six weeks. I’ll scan it and send you the link once it’s live. Anyway, so, back to the phone call.

I randomly asked Mags if she had read my blog lately. She said no. Honestly, I kind of felt a little hurt by that. I figured, “Man, we’re friends. I mean, like, I’ve seen your panties laying on your bathroom floor. And, you can’t even bother to check out my blog every once in a while?! Don’t you wanna know what’s going on in my life?!?!?!” Granted, Mags and I talk damn near every day. So, she already knows what’s going on in my life. But, whatever, I still think she should read my blog out of sheer curiosity alone. I told her, “You should read my blog more often.” And, that’s when Mag dropped the bomb on me. Mags thinks that the FBC is teetering on the side of NSFW. Things like this picture and the title of this post scare her away from reading my blog while she’s at work. Quite frankly, I was shocked. I know plenty of NSFW sites, and I’m not one of them. Having said that, I’ll add this: my sense of what’s “normal” may be skewed for two reasons.

1. I live in New York. The thermometers on the city’s socialmeter and sexometer are pretty high. It’s not a bad thing to talk about sex, drinking, therapy sessions or damn near anything else that might be considered “risqué” in other parts of the country. Why? Because New Yorkers are adults. :)
2. I have a kickass employer. I don’t blog about work. Suffice it to say, writing and working in Web 2.0 / social media grants me a little bit of latitude. Not only do I write, podcast, blog and do all of the other fun internet stuff at home during my free time because I love it — I actually need to know how to do this stuff for my job.

I feel lucky. Where I live and what I do match my personality and my lifestyle. But, I’m super sensitive to where you live and what you do — especially if it means that, like Mags, you don’t feel comfortable reading my blog while at work. So, for the time being, I’ll try to leave the more “risqué” bits embedded in the text of the post instead of prominently displaying it in the title or in a picture. (Sheesh! The things that I do for you people.) Needless to say, the content of my posts won’t change. I’ll still write about manly things such as the relative beauty of circumcised vs. uncircumcised penises. And, as always, I’ll write about my life and my dates in New York City. Speaking of which, I have a date with a new cute boy tonight. I’m really excited. I’ll post full details about it over at Nerve tonight post-date.

For me, I’ve always thought that one of the many advantages of owning a pair of small boobs is that you can dress them up. Yes, we itty bitty titty chicks can either go small & au naturale or go big & faux naturale. Unlike our Big & Busty sisters, we have flexible breasts. I’ve already written a post that tells you exactly how to have perky boobs. You can also find additional tips over at the How to Make Your Boobs Look Bigger WikiHow. So, since you already have that information, today’s post is just lists a bunch of products that will help you in your Pursuit of Perkiness. And, in case you were wondering, no, no one is paying me to plug these products. So, what’s in it for me? I get to help the boobs of my fellow sisters out. That and, for those of you who actually buy stuff on Amazon, I’ll get credit. So, here we go …

I’ve used Maidenforms gel inserts on more than one occassion. They sell concealer enhancers and shape mates. I’m not sure which one I used (or if it was a different product by Maidenform). In any case, the gel inserts work just fine. But, remember to cycle that shit out. I once wore gel inserts a bit longer than I probably should have, and the bastards actually started to leak on me. Thankfully, everything turned out okay and it wasn’t even noticeable. Although Victoria’s Secret has an amazing collection of padded push up bras, you can usually find similar stuff online via Amazon for even cheaper. Check out the water wear push up pads, Wonderbra gel push-up bra, or the gel push-pp underwire bra. And, by the way, although they’re not bras or inserts, you might be interested in Julia Fikse’s company that uses T-shirts to support breast cancer research. October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Pick up a save the tatas t-shirt for yourself. Or, fella, you can pick up a shirt that tells the world exactly how much you love boobies. Okay. That’s all I’ve got for you now, folks. But. feel free to use the comment section to list other suggestions for perky boob products. But, for crying out loud, whatever you do, don’t suggest surgery. (I don’t have anything against boob jobs themselves, I’m just kind of not a fan of elective surgery in general. If you don’t *need* to cut your body open, don’t do it.)

Now, to all of the random people who routinely arrive at the FBC by googline “how to make small boobs look bigger”, I say this: stop the booby envy. You look great rocking a pair of small or midsized boobs — with or without accoutrement. In fact, folks who have read this blog for a short amount of time already know that I’m very proud of my (extremely heavy) A-cup boobies. And, those who have read this blog for a longer period of time have actually seen pictures of me and my boobies in pretty little matching bra and panty sets. Petite boobies. I love em. So, spread the small boobie love. In fact, right now I would be so happy if all the small boobie girls of the world would would place their hands on each of their breasts and tell them: I love you. Feel better? I thought so.

YAY!!!!! I finally have my new laptop. What’s more? This new one has a webcam thing on it. Coming soon: video posts from the Funky Brown Chick. I’m so excited. I was going to dedicate today’s Manly Monday to the laptop, but I can’t because I don’t have a name for it yet. (Any suggestions??) So, since I can’t dedicate today’s Manly Monday post to the new laptop in my life, I’ve decided to dedicate it to Steven instead. Who is Steven? I’m so glad that you’ve asked. Head over to Nerve to find out everything there is to know about New York City Love Story #1,289,783: The Guy Who Watches His Neighbors Dance Around in Thier Panties.

Ah, the Swedes. I don’t really have a lot of hang ups about who is and is not an “appropriate” person to date. For the most part, I’d have to say that I’m fairly laid back about a lot of things. I’ve dated younger men, older men, taller men, shorter men and a full spectrum of ethnicities that would probably make the United Nations look homogeneous. Having said that, I’ll add this: I’m not a fan of guys with pale skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. With the notable exception of my oh-so-fuckable Paul Walker, I’m not just not interested in blondes. They don’t do anything for me. In general, as most of you already know, I tend to be attracted to guys who have at least two out of three dark features: Hair. Eyes. Skin. At least 2 out of those three 3 should be dark.

Enter the Swedish people.

Our Viking brothers and sisters aren’t really known for being tall, dark and handsome are they? Tall? Certainly. Handsome? Depends on who we’re talking about. Dark? Um, well, not typically. But, who am I if I’m not a woman interested in expanding my horizons? Swedes. I wonder: Could they be the next frontier? So, via a hook up, I got on the guest list of the largest Swedish expat party in New York City. Basically, all of the social groups that routinely throw Scandinavian and European-themed parties parties for New York’s expat communities are joining forces. It’s the long-awaited “Abba Dance Party” and more than 900 Vikings, ahem, I mean “Swedes and other attendees” are expected to attend.

The party takes place from 9 at night until 4 in the morning next Friday (September 28). The location, BLVD, is 199 Bowery Street @ Spring. Should be a good time. See you there? You don’t have to be Swedish to go, so if you live in New York City and you wanna attend buy your $20 ticket online. Tell ‘em funkybrownchick sent you their way. And, speaking of Swedish things, I just gotta know … ABBA. It seems that people either “love” or “love to hate” this fabulous band. How about you? Feel free to use the comment section to tell us which camp you fit in. ABBA — love em or hate em?

Remember when I mentioned that Essence Magazine and its parent company Time, Inc were going to be releasing an internet TV show called “30 Dates in 30 Days“? Well, it started and you can check it out online. Before I ever heard anything about 30 Dates in 30 Days, I remember reading Essence’s “Will You Marry Me” feature in their magazine. It kind of seems like this show will follow along the same theme as that contest. But, I can only assume there will be no marriage proposals in the end. And, since we’re on the topic, speaking of no marriage proposals … About a week ago or maybe more, a coworker forwarded me this video and article about the College Humor Prank War. Funny to watch. Though, I’m not so sure it would have been fun to be on the receiving end of this prank.

Basically, Amir Blumenfeld gets Yankee Stadium to put up a fake marriage proposal announcement on the big screen during the middle of one of their games. Streeter Seidell is at the game with his girlfriend, Sharon, and neither have no idea about the prank. Half way through the game, the announcement goes up. Sharon jumps to her feet and gets all excited. ‘Yes,’ she says, ‘yes, I’ll marry you.’ Streeter is kind of like, ‘No. Wait. Stop. I didn’t put that up there! I think we just got punked.’ Sharon slaps Streeter across the face hard. I read this article and they seem to agree that it’s almost a little too over the top to be real, but it’s a special little video nonetheless. [[UPDATE: TMZ just posted the video online.]]