From the category archives:

Manly Mondays

Gaaaah! I’m tired of this story already. When I heard about Tiger Woods car crash, I tweeted about it because I thought the guy was dying. As the story unfolded, it was clear his life and limbs were not in jeopardy. His groin’s adventures became the “real” headline.

Tiger Woods

Several people recently asked, “You write about relationships. What do you think about Tiger Woods?” As I’ve said before, If PERSON A cheats on PERSON B with PERSON C, it’s really no one’s business except the parties involved. Tiger is neither my father, lover, husband nor an acquaintance. Right now, I wouldn’t necessarily want to be in Elin Nordegren‘s shoes. That said, I’m uninterested in her & her husbands’ personal affairs. In fact, I think the fascination with love lives of the rich & famous says more about our country’s penchant for gawking than it does about our spry young Tiger’s alleged ability to wear women out. Pssst! If you’re interested in theories about Americans’ general views on cheating, I’ve previously written about the topic over at Huffington Post. (Link: Political Sex Scandals: Obama, McCain & Palin.) I also recommend Google Searches for Information about Tiger Woods vs. Afghanistan.

Ah, each day has its many complications, joys, thrills, disappointments, challenges and surprises, no? Many ideas enter my thoughts, but Tiger Woods’ personal life isn’t typically one of them. I pray about my family. I get excited that I’m almost finished with my book. I question how long I’ll remain in New York. I think about my future plans. I hang out and have great times with good friends. I improve my personal finances. Tiger Woods? As long as the man isn’t breaking the law or committing any crimes, I think he deserves his privacy. I’m glad he’s safe. I wish him the best at golf, and I hope he has (or finds) peace in his home life.

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Credit paid: Image is by freelance sports photographer Keith Allison.

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{ 15 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

Who doesn’t love a (bi-curious) nice Jewish boy? If the mock cock suck at last night’s American Music Awards didn’t win you over, I don’t know what will!! For me, Glambert is a new discovery. I don’t watch American Idol. So, truth be told, I was wholly unaware and uninterested in the kid until I read his Out magazine interview (part 1, part 2) as well as EIC Aaron Hicklin‘s open letter. (“Getting gay stars like yourself [on our cover] is another matter. Much easier to stick you in Details, where your homosexuality can be neutralized by having you awkwardly grabbing a woman’s breast and saying, ‘Women are pretty.; So are kittens, Adam, but it doesn’t mean you have to make out with them.’”) Love Lambert’s classy response. (If you missed it: Chill. I’m not your puppet.) Love him. He’s hardly the first gay / bisexual / bi-curious / gender bending / whatever (who the fuck cares because it’s his business, not mine) rockstar. We’ve been in these waters before, and he’s definitely making bolder moves than David Bowie‘s public denials and shame about ever touching a penis. Talk about (social) climate change.

All hail freedom of expression and artistic integrity,” indeed. Love love LOVE him. But, you know I’m biased. Guy-on-guy action turns me on. What say you? Adam Lambert: hot or not?

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{ 10 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

Saturday, on Facebook I stumbled across the clip below and shared it on my Wall. If you watch Rachel Maddow, you’ve probably already seen this “That’s not the way the Nobel prize always works” video because it’s almost two weeks old. Of course I heard about Obama’s Nobel laureate status, but I hadn’t seen Maddow’s clip. Politics aside (i.e. whether or not you think Obama was a good pick), if you’re interested in learning more about the Nobel prizes and “Le marchand de la mort,” see Wikipedia, Biography, Time or pick up a paperback book on Alfred Nobel‘s life. Interesting guy. I wrote about Nobel a couple years ago. Head’s up, the clip below is 11 minutes long, but it’s worth watching the whole thing.

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{ 5 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

Roman-Polanski1Picture this: A 40-something dude dopes a 13-year-old girl with quaaludes then rapes her vaginally, orally and anally then flees the country to escape prison. Given, for three decades, Roman Polanski fastidiously avoided traveling to the US (the country which would arrest him) as well as the UK (and other places that might extradite him) — it appears, surely, he  worried he’d eventually get caught. Such was the case this weekend when he was finally arrested.

If you’ve been to Funky Brown Chick before, you know about Manly Mondays–weekly nods to men, masculine topics and other testosteronely bits. Also, if you’ve hung around here a while (and/or know me personally), you’re familiar with my love of film and you’re likely aware I used to work international affairs before moving to New York and pursuing a career that fed my passion for the written word. So, naturally, what better Manly Monday pick could I write about today than what Esquire magazine calls a “30-year-old case, on sex, justice, and the American way.” So, here we go …

It seems no one doubts Roman Polanski has had an incredibly unfair share of misfortune. A Jew having escaped wartime Kraków ghettos only to learn his mother would later perish in Auschwitz, his childhood wasn’t without horrors. He could’ve been a tortured soul when he came to the U.S. as adult and directed his first film, the occult flick Rosemary’s Baby. (I rented it ages ago and loved it. My reaction to it was similar to my impressions of reading Stephen King: “I’m probably taking in the product of a brilliant, albeit possibly disturbed, mind.”) In any case, Polanski’s misfortunes likely might’ve seemed to diminish as he career took off and he married the beautiful Sharon Tate. Nineteen months after the wedding, on August 8, 1969, his 8-1/2 month pregnant wife, Tate, was brutally murdered by Charles Manson’s gang. They weren’t targeting her. Out for blood, it was just dumb luck she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Almost full term, her killer testified she got “sick of listening to her, pleading and begging, begging and pleading” to give birth to Polanski’s child before they took her life. Upon hearing the news of his bride and only baby’s death, I can only imagine Polanski must’ve felt cursed. What did he do to deserve such horrible fate? Sadly, the answer is probably: absolutely nothing. Life, unfortunately, isn’t fair.

Enter the rape of 13-year-old kid, Samantha Gailey. I’ve neither heard nor read anything that suggests he’s innocent. Gailey (now Geimer) testified he did it, and Polanski admitted his guilt. Having said all that, after watching confessions & testimonies contained in the documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted & Desired*, I get the impression no one believes Judge Rittenband gave Polanski a fair trial. Reporting for the Washington Post, critic Tom Shales has said, Rittenband’s “bungling of the case was so outrageous.” Of Polanski’s recent arrest, French Minister of Culture and Communication Frédéric Mitterrand commented he “strongly regrets that a new ordeal is being inflicted on someone who has already experienced so many of them.” Indeed. Although justice should be blind, I’m often sympathetic when people who — through no fault of their own — are unfairly burdened with extra heapings of the shittiest of life’s (mis)fortunes. They deserve a break. Though, the key phrase there is through no fault of their own. He pleaded guilty to raping a child, and life has its odd synchronicities. Quoting The Guardian: “Just as 13-year-old Samantha Gailey was unfortunate enough to run up against Polanski in horny, Austin Powers mode, so Polanski was unlucky to be then dragged before Rittenband.”

“So,” several friends have recently asked, “what do you think about this Polanski stuff?” I’m neither or judge nor a lawyer, so I’ll refrain from speculating about the legal technicalities of the case. I only know what I’ve seen in the press — which, of course, is not without its flaws. So, I guess my final answer isn’t resolute at all. I don’t know what to think of it yet because I’m still turning it around in my head. The incidents are truly unfortunate–for everyone involved. That said — whether you’re a bystander reading the news, a survivor of teen sexual abuse, someone with children of your own, a film buff who thinks Polanski got a raw deal, or whatever — I want to hear from you. As I’ve said many times, the world is most interesting when people respectfully disagree. Feel free to use the comments section below to do so.

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Psst! I highly recommend the documentary. It’s available (FREE!) streaming online to Netflix members. Click Roman Polanski: Wanted & Desired.

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{ 18 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

I saw my matchmaker over the weekend. As I mentioned before, I linked up with her because she’s a pal of my friend Julia. Over brunch, the three of us talked about my love life. Funny but I rarely, if ever, have conversations about things like: (1) what are the most important qualities in a mate; (2) what are my dealbreakers; and (3) how important is sex in a relationship? Granted, I wouldn’t go out of my way to bring any of this stuff up during a first date. Sitting across the dinner table, I’m usually all about getting to know more about the dude. Who is he? What makes him tick? What are his interests? Do I like him? Etc. Usually, he’s sussing me out, too. Based on that, we decide whether we’re worth each others’ time (i.e. is he someone I want to see again?). What gets lost in that interaction is this: Are we a compatible match for the longterm? Enter the matchmaker.

Michelle spent a lot of time getting to know me: my history, my past and dreams for my future. We talked about my views on religion, sex, relationships and monogamy. I told her about my worst heartbreak. (I still can’t tell that story without crying.) And, I filled her in on details about my hobbies: film, art, museums, travel and soccer. After the discussion, in passing, she said something completely unexpected: “You need a guy who’s an adventurer, a partner in crime.” We talked about a bunch of other stuff, but the “adventurer” thing stuck out most. Why? Because it never occurred to me. Some but not all of my corporate exes (Goldman Sachs, PricewaterhouseCoopers, ABN AMRO and other employees) were hardly known for their sense of adventure. After all, they built their careers on calculating and avoiding risks — not taking them. But, I always figured we balanced each other out: they were the yin to my yang. I had the inside scoop the all-male ballet troupe from Djibouti would be in town for the weekend; my exes remembered to buy the tickets and stick the date on the calendar. I brought the fun. They brought the foundation and stability. That’s not necessarily a bad pairing.

That said, my matchmaker noticed something I didn’t. During their spare time, my former beaus were more likely to surf bars & pubs with their coworkers than go kayaking, whitewater rafting, adventure traveling or off-road cycling. I’m open to new things, I bore easily and I’ve moved around a lot in different cities and countries. The idea of dating someone with a passion for life, love and adventure sounds really appealing. In fact, my vault of Manly Monday picks include: surfer Laird Hamilton, male Olympians, a wrestler, soccer players, motorsport genius Lewis Hamilton and footballer  David Beckham. I dated a guy in New York (Boy #2) who ran marathons. I don’t like super beefy guys, I’m certainly not an athlete, and I’m not saying I need to date a jock. It’s just, you know, interesting the matchmaker noticed a trend in my preferences that I hadn’t noticed before.

So far I’m a fan of Michelle’s matchmaking process. She seems really thorough and she’s making an honest effort to know more about me. (Today, I sent her 1/2 dozen pictures of my exes so she’d get a better idea of my physical types — the men I find most visually appealing.) In a week or so, we’ll touch base with her again to see if she has any guys in mind. It’s worth mentioning I will NOT write any specific details about my dates. In the past, I’ve shared a bunch (perhaps too much) info about my dudes, and I’m not sure if that was a wise decision. It’s my website and I feel totally fine sharing info about me, but I’m not gonna share specific details about my dates. It’s not their fault I have a blog, right? Anyway. Michelle has successfully produced for others many dates, couples, one marriage and a baby. I’m not interested in a husband or kids — just a dude who sticks around monogamously for a while. As I told her: “I’m cautiously optimistic. If it works out and I go on a fantastic date or two, great. If I end up meeting a longterm partner, wonderful. If I meet no one, at least I gave it a shot.” Wish me luck!

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Photo credit: Image of Lewis Hamilton is from Wikipedia.

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{ 11 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

Bromance: George Clooney and Brad PittA couple days ago, a friend commented: “Good Will Hunting is the original Bromance movie.” At first, I agreed. I mean, who could forget Ben Affleck and Matt Damon‘s ridiculously cute acceptance speech at the 70th Annual Academy Awards!??! But, hold on there kiddies. On-screen, intimate friendships between men (Bromances) existed before Ben & Matt were born. Remember Jerry Lewis and that Dean Martin guy? Or, what about Will Smith and Martin Lawrence? Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan? I don’t know who can claim the “First Bromance” title (Marx brothers? Laurel & Hardy?), but I’d love to know your opinion:  Which Coupling is the CUTEST bromance? Feel free to use the comments section below to leave your suggestions. If you need inspiration, LA Times has a 11 Brands of Bromance slideshow. My vote: Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna.

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Photo credit: LA Times – 11 Brands of Bromance

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{ 14 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

The BrainIt’s the top of the week and, as usual, Mondays are “manly” here at Funky Brown Chick where the day kicks off with a tribute to a particular guy, mantrend or other male-related topic. Today, we’re going to look at the minds of men. Matt Hutson has an article in the May/June issue of Psychology Today called “Romantic Road Signs: Studies identify what cues people use to judge a lady’s sexual openness.” I was going to write about it sooner, but I’d tucked the piece into a deep crevice in my brain and it didn’t reappear until last weekend. After The Webutante Ball, Rachel, Nichelle, Sherri, Lauren and I went to 212 Bar and got into a goofy conversation about “sexual teasing” — i.e. giving off clues that you’re sexually open when you’re not. To be clear, I fully admit I’m a  flirt. I flirt with men, women, friends, lovers, waiters, puppy dogs and almost any other living thing on the planet. And, of course, I like kissing boys. Who doesn’t like to be showered with attention, be made to feel attractive and be the objection of affection? Men like that. Women like that. Everyone does, no? So, if I see a guy who’s cute and sweet, I’ll flirt with him. It puts a smile on his face and it makes him feel good. But, that doesn’t mean I want to fuck the guy or that I expect him to sleep with me. In my mind, we’re just having light and charming fun. Perhaps, men see it differently? And, I think that was the topic of my (possible) disagreement with the girls the other night.

ME: “I get called a tease quite often.”

The Girls: [chiming] “We’re not surprised.”

I don’t think smiling, blowing kisses, touching someone’s thigh under the table or any other actions from the flirting toolbox connote: I am going to have sex with you. So, how do you let a guy know that you ARE interested in having sex? In short, here’s what I think my girlfriends sitting around the table at the bar thought: Be smart. If you go back to a guy’s place alone, please know that he’ll think you want to sleep with him. So, if you don’t want to have sex, don’t go back to his place. We don’t want you to get hurt. I disagreed … or, maybe I agreed and we were just saying the exact same thing using different words.

I think I SHOULD be able to flirt with a guy and, possibly, even go back to his place without him: (1) raping me or (2) thinking I’m a cocktease* if I don’t fuck him. BUT, because I feel like I live in a world where the power (burden?) of flipping the yes/no sex switch often seems to fall squarely on women’s shoulders, I usually don’t go back to a date’s place alone unless I’m almost positive I’d have sex with him. Does that make me a tease? I say no. Or, to paraphrase what one of my readers, Raymond, said the last time I wrote about this topic: Flirting doesn’t make you a tease. If you give a guy a snack, it doesn’t automatically mean he gets the run of the kitchen. My thoughts exactly. What say you? How would you define “a flirt” vs. “a cocktease“? (SIDENOTE: By the way, for the record, I hate that word cocktease because it’s sooooo sex negative / loaded — and, not to mention, men are rarely if ever called a vag tease when they flirt.)

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Image by Sanja Gjenero

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{ 21 folks got down with the Funky Brown }

Question of the day: Clean-shaven balls … Hot or Not? (via Jezebel)

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{ 21 folks got down with the Funky Brown }