Um, excuse me? That’s “Miss Skank” to you, my dear!  ;) Of course I’m grateful for all my readers; So, thank you for dropping by. That said, I’ll remind you the only Funky Brown Chick “comment policy” is: Be Kind. Disagree with what you see here if you like but, for fuckssake, please be nice to your fellow comment-leavers and be civil to the person — c’est moi, Twanna — who writes the site.  If you can’t do that, go play elsewhere.

And, since we’re on the topic of comments, let’s talk about yours. I wrote: I UNKNOWINGLY slept with a married man once. He told me he was single; I thought that was shitty. I also wrote: I’ve never knowingly slept with a married man, even though I’ve been approached and tempted by many. So, yesterday at 8:14 a.m., you read and responded to those words with these thoughts:

“Hypocrite! [...] Men who fuck around on their wives are lying both to their wives and to God. They are running around sinning while only pretending to honour their SACRED vows before God to remain exclusively with their spouse.”

Eww, I don’t like self-righteous finger wagging :( Plus, for what it’s worth, I never said I thought it was cool for men to lie to their wives. Sleeping with someone to whom you aren’t married doesn’t always equal cheating/lying. For example, have you heard of open relationships? In life, each coupling is as uniquely individual as the person(s) who enter(s) it. Some men don’t have affairs, some do. Some men lie about their cheating, some men are more upfront. Back to you.

“I don’t see how lying to you, a person who acts like a skank [...]“

Ahem, sorry to interrupt again, but, as I mentioned, it’s MISS Skank ;) Carry on.

“I don’t see how lying to you, a person who acts like a skank, should be seen as being a worse offense than lying to his wife, the mother of his children, and the keeper of his heart and home. Pray tell, don’t you think you’re going to be lied to if that’s your attitude?”

Regarding “lying” men and me being a “skank,” please see my previous comments. [Points up to earlier paragraphs.]

“You reap what you sew, young lady. You are your own worst enemy”

Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong? Why so much hatred in that little, red, faithful heart built for spreading love? Scratch that question. Here’s a better one: What the hell happened in your life that compelled you to spew such venomous thoughts about my fucking sewing skills?!?!?

Be well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, a bit of skanking awaits me.

Yours,

Funky Brown Chick

Dear Sexy Readers:

Love and apologies. I’d have a post today had I not enjoyed 15-, 18- and 16-year single malt scotch tastings at Brass Monkey with the Brits and His Royal Highness Glenlivet U.S. Ambassador Ricky Crawford. Afterwards, my friends and I went for munchies and (more) drinks until 2am.

In my own defense, it wasn’t all about the boozery. ;) I actually learned quite a bit about Scotch — a drink I previously felt too insecure to order in the same way people who don’t know a lot about wines stare blankly at wine menus. If I remember correctly, I learned, among other things: Scotch should NOT be served with tons of ice cubes, the word “glen” is Scottish for valley (Glenlivet comes from the valley near the River Livet; hence, Glenlivet) and all scotch is whiskey but not all whiskey is scotch. Oh, and, Scottish boys look great in kilts.

Yours,

Twanna

Dear Pete (a.k.a. Mashable Dude):

“I know you,” you said as we bumped into each other at your party last Friday. “Yeah, we met at SXSW,” I reminded you. “Hmmm …” your face fell to a blank stare. You didn’t remember meeting me. “Uh, right, okay, so, everyone was drunk there. I don’t remember everyone I met either,” I said to soothe my wounded ego and to make you feel less awkward. But, I figured you knew me from my site. “You read FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com, yeah?”

“No.”

Shit. I felt stupid. If you didn’t get down with the funky brown, then I figured you knew me via one of our mutual connections. I suggested, “We’re both Vaynerchuk pals. You saw me on Gary’s show?” You politely shook your head and said, “Um …” You watch Wine Library TV; you probably missed the day I dropped by.

Now, I was stumped. You didn’t come to my SXSW talk. And, I doubted you read the girly mag Glamour so you didn’t read about my orgasm. You live somewhere out west, so you probably don’t read Time Out New York & didn’t see my erotic haiku. And, so on and so on. I was at a loss bro; I didn’t know which connection you had in mind.

“Twit-tah!” you said as the lightbulb went on. [NOTE TO USA READERS: British English translation to American English: Twit-tah = Twitter.]

You read my tweets. I felt so embarrassed. I wanted to morph into a tiny red ant, then crawl away and sting the hell out of someone so they’d stump me to a miserable end.

“You’ve been writing very nice things about me,” you smiled.

I assumed you meant the It should be a goddamned punishable sin to be that fucking fiiiiiiiine!!! stuff. For the record, I didn’t say that. I was quoting this brown woman. But, yes, I’ll fess up to something else … Being the silly little girls that we are, another brown woman (Tiffany B. Brown) and I jokingly became co-founding members of the Brown Girls Who Think Pete Cashmore Is Sexeh Club, LLC. Please forgive us. We all write stupid shit online without realizing people (sometimes) actually read that stuff.

Crawling back to the obscure hole from whence I came,

Twanna // FUNKY BROWN CHICK

————
Related links:
Mashable
Pete on Valleywag
Open Letter to My Laptop
Open Letter to Dates Who Find My Blog
Open Letter to The Guy Who Sent Me Pictures of Himself Wearing a Thong
Open Letter To The Man Who Sent Me His Penis
To The One Who Tried to Poison Me

Hello, my lovelies! :) For those who don’t live in New York and/or couldn’t make it out to “In the Flesh” a couple weeks ago, here’s the video from “Blogger Sex Night:”

I’ve got nothing but love for my readers. By the way … speaking of love … I love, love, LOVE “In the Flesh.” Food critic Gael Greene, Vibe magazine former editor in chief Danyel Smith, New York Times bestselling author Josh Kilmer-Purcell, Washingtonianne blogger Jessica Cutler and others have all taken part. If you’re in the city, definitely check it out sometime.

——————–
Related FBC posts:
Open Letter to Dates Who Find My Blog
Open Letter to The Guy Who Sent Me Pictures of Himself Wearing a Thong
Open Letter To The Man Who Sent Me His Penis
To The One Who Tried to Poison Me
Open Letter to My Laptop

Dear Denzel:

Baby, I’ve been in love with you since the first time that I saw you. Smooth. Black. Attainable. I named you Denzel, and I immediately took you home with me. And, you know what? Things have been good. Over the past two years, we’ve had a great run. So, I can’t understand why you want to quit me.

Yeah, I see the signs. When I came home to you the other night, opened you up, and prepared to run my fingertips all over your sexy little keys (…I know you love it when I do that …), I could sense that something was wrong. I tried to turn you on. But, you didn’t want to hear it. You just threw a black screen of death at me and shouted: “Media test failure, check cable!” Baby, that hurt my feelings. But, then you made things even worse. You actually tried to pull the plug on our relationship by saying even more hurtful things like, “No operating system found.”

Motherfucker, I don’t know who you think I am, but I am *NOT* the kind of woman who lets her laptop get away from her that easily. I am going to fight for this relationship. I *need* this relationship. I have places to go, people to email, articles to write. In fact, for a few days now … and, I really hate to admit this because I don’t want to sound needy but … I’ve needed a man so much that I’ve been borrowing other people’s men. I can’t help it. I can’t stop my life just because you don’t want to act right, fool.

But, I’m not going to let you go that easily. I can only limp along with other people’s men for so long. I need my own man. So, baby, I’ve enrolled us in couples therapy. Yes, you heard me. I CALLED OUR THERAPIST (the computer help line) ON YOUR ASS. Apparently, it might be possible to save this relationship after all. The therapist suggested that I buy a few “toys” to sex things up a little bit. She says this might convince you to come back to me. In fact, this weekend, I’m going to shop around for some of that sexy lingerie you like so much. Circuit City has this line of toys called “new hard drives”. Baby, I’m gonna bring one home to you. And, I sincerely hope that this will make you decide to cooperate with me because you *know* that I can’t afford to buy a new man right now. So, please, baby. I’m begging you. Come back to mama. I promise. Things will be different this time.

My fingertips await you,

funkybrownchick

Dear FBC Readers,

Hello, my loves. As many of you already know, I’m maintaining two blogs at the moment but I like to keep them separate. If you read something that you like (or hate) over at Nerve, I ask you to comment over there. And, if you read something that you like (or hate) here at FBC, I welcome your comments here. It’s simple, really: Nerve and FBC are two separate blogs. Not to mention, for the most part, they have two separate audiences. (You can’t assume that people reading FBC know what I’ve written on Nerve. And, vice versa.) Having said that, I simply must confess something to you my sweet little darlings…

This is one of the most painful open letters that I’ve ever had to write. You see, the truth is … I’ve been cheating on you.

I’ve told Nerve readers more details about my recent dating adventures than I’ve told you. Yes, yes, I know. It’s awful. And, I’m ashamed. You deserve better. Long-time FBC readers have stayed with me for much longer than I’ve stayed with many of my ex-boyfriends. Hell, if you keep reading for another … I don’t know 3 – 4 months? … the blogger-reader relationship that I have with each of you will have outlasted *every* boyfriend-girlfriend relationship that I’ve ever had with any man.

So, here’s what I’d like to do to make up for my cheating … For the next 24 hours, if any of you wanna use the comment link below to ask about my dating life, The Right-Winger Gunslinger, Simon, Alon, “Mr. Blue” (or any other relationship-related question that you’d like), I promise to answer any and all questions that are posted prior to midnight tonight New York time. Who gets this kind of treatment? Nerve readers? Nope; today, it’s all about you, my FBC sweets!

I can only hope that this helps rebuild the foundation that we’ve established over the past two years. My heart, as you know, has always and will always belong to you. So go ahead and ask me about anything that you wanna know about my dating life. I’m all yours.

Big drippy kisses,

FUNKYBROWNCHICK

Dear Beloved FBC Readers:

St. Patrick’s Day wasn’t the only thing that was green this past weekend. As a few of you know, I have been without my DSL for almost a week. The problem continues, and the green DSL light on my modem is still blinking. If you wanna hear the full story, I wrote a post about it on Nerve today. [Link: The Customer Wants to Kick Your Ass.] At any rate, I’m supposed to be back up and running tomorrow. So expect the regular, daily postings here at the FBC to return then. (I’ll also respond to as many of your emails as I can then as well.)

In the meantime, if you’ve been here at the FBC before, you may have noticed that I recently added an “email this” link to the bottom of my posts. You all use different browsers, operating systems, etc. So, I’d totally appreciate it if you’d like to help me test drive the new link by emailing a post to a friend. Not sure which post to send? Here are a few suggestions:

• Dear Sexually Satisfied Hobo
• How To Make Boobs Look Perky
• Why Women Say “Let’s Be Friends”
• Should Men Wear Thongs?
• I Got Fined $335.10

To email one of the posts above: (1) Click the link above, then click the “email this” link at the bottom of that post. (2) Fill in any details & hit ‘send it now’. If you get an error message, shoot me an email to let me know and I’ll try to fix the problem. (By the way, if this is your first time here at FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com: welcome to the blog!)

xoxo,
Funky Brown Chick

PS: I miss you, my sweeties!!! Can’t wait to get my DSL back. :-(

Dear Dudes:

Damn! Damn! Damn!!! And, really, I mean every word. You see, here’s my dilemma: I have a blog, and this might make you very uncomfortable. In fact, in the past, a couple of men refused to date me when they learned that (among other things) I’m a sex, dating and relationships writer. Crazy, huh? It makes me a little sad. So, for the first time, I’ve decided to write this open letter to express what this blog is, and why I think it shouldn’t bear any weight on your decision to date me.

First, let’s talk about the blog. I started FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com in June 2005. Adjusting to life in New York City was difficult because nothing worked out as I planned. I needed an outlet to voice my frustrations, but I’d taxed my friends and I couldn’t afford a new therapist. Thus, this blog was born. I expected to blog for exactly one year. But, when the year expired, I continued blogging. I’d developed a small following of really loyal and faithful readers. I’ve met some in person. Others have hosted me when I visited their cities. And a few sent me Christmas cards, humorous books and presents as well as postcards from faraway lands. Further, my readers — both new and old ones — leave comments with helpful advice, funny stories and other thoughts that have (on more than one occasion) made my day when I needed it the most. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’ve got the best readers in the world.

So, now that I’ve told you all about this blog, let’s talk a little bit about your appearance in it. Simply put, this blog isn’t about you. It’s about me. Me, my impressions of New York City and my reactions to my dating life.

I’ve kept a written journal since I was 14 years old. I find writing to be very cathartic, and it’s often easier for me to write the things that I cannot speak. So, yeah — whether in my private journal or on this blog — I’m going to write about my life in some fashion or another. The difference between the blog and my private journal is, here, you read the things that I write / think / feel. If you want to know me better, this could be a good thing, no? So, if you’re still extremely uncomfortable with my blog, even after reading all of this … I’d bet the chances are pretty good I’m not the right person for you. Nor you for me.

Yours ( … if you can handle me),

The Funky Brown Chick

Dear Bethonged Reader,

When I opened my email inbox last week, I must admit that I was a little surprised to receive your message. Don’t get me wrong. After all, I publish my email address because I actually *like* to hear from my readers. I don’t always respond to everything because I’m bad at keeping up with email, but I do indeed read everything. Actually, I’ve become quite accustomed to receiving all kinds of interesting things via email. Remember the guy who sent me a picture of his penis? Oh, and, don’t even get me started on the barrage of spam emails that offer me the latest and greatest news about breakthroughs in penis enlargement. But, I digress. This letter is not about that. This letter is about you. You and your thong:

You. Are. A. Very. Special. Person. I wish to highly commend you for your courageousness and your outstandingly perfect ass. It’s obvious that you work out. Good job son. I was so moved by your decision to pose (electronically) as a thong-model, that I am devoting the Manly Monday post for Monday, February 26th to your thong. Specifically, the snug little black one in the top photo.

Now, before I close this letter, I want be sure to say thank you for reading my blog. I can only assume that you sent the pictures in response to my “Should Men Wear Thongs” post. At the same time … Please know, when I typed “I want to see a guy in a thong”, I didn’t *really* expect anyone to send pictures. I’m just a goofball with a computer, a blog and two fingers that know how to type. It’s important that you not take everything I say on FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com literally.

All the best to you … and your collection of thongs.

Sincerely,

FUNKYBROWNCHICK

Dear Exhibitionist Reader,

You know who you are. And, just out of curiosity … what, pray tell, inspired you to do that???? I mean, really, when I opened the email with the subject header “Maybe You Wanna Blog About This” (or something like that), I never in my wildest dreams expected to see an image of a penis. Especially not your penis. Because, well, I don’t even know who you are.

I’ll have you know that I innocently opened your email WHILE AT WORK . I got so freaked out that I immediately hit the delete button. In the future, my exhibitionist friend, should you ever feel the uncontrollable desire to send me another photo of your penis, please mark the email “NSFW.”

Many thanks,
The Funky Brown Chick

PS: To everyone else … Happy Manly Monday & Happy MLK Day.

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Don’t forget to tune in to my internet radio show, Dating Roadkill, tonight! It’s easy; remember, when the clock below strikes 10PM, just click the image below to listen live on BlogTalkRadio. (Once you’re on that page, click the link that says “Click to Listen” near the top right corner.)