Not sure about you, but I love warm weather. I’m so over cold weather at this point. With warm weather comes so many wonderful things. Women wearing less clothing, little birdies chirping at the women dressing with less.

Hell, I’m a man. Hear me pirate.

Gar.

Actually, that’s my sophisticated pirateage up there.

Anyway, I figure that its important to provide a bunch of pointers for women out there on how to maximize your body in the warmth of summer. Really though, I’d just like to note what the fuck NOT to do.

1. If you’re fat, be fat. Don’t try to lie to the mirror. The mirror doesn’t lie.

Had to come straight off the blocks with this one. This winter, I’ve seen many women wearing a wee-bit too tight cloth despite God’s apparent molding to the contrary. All women aren’t intended to wear tight clothing. If you’re of gut, put that motherfucking tight shit up. You shouldn’t wear form fitting clothing if you haven’t got any form. We rail on white girls with no hips and ass for wearing hip-huggers and then I see women with a little to much pouch-action going.

Newsflash: Your tits should be uptop and differentiable from your stomach. Two sets of boobs works great for the circus. Life? Not so much.

2. Daisy dukes can be your friend or your enemy. Chose that battle wisely.

I like daisy dukes. I like legs. However, all women ain’t daisy duke material. If you have ass cheeks falling out of your dukes because you and gravity had an argument, I just might hate you. If gravity gave up on you, don’t try to come back and win that battle after the war’s over and the treaty has been signed. Sneak attacks rarely work how you want them too. Men don’t like flobby ass cheeks. Ass should bounce, not sway sloppily.

3. Daisy dukes (contd.) Tackle the spiderwebs.

Not really sure the nice way to say this but um…I’ve actually seen a chick who looked like she had a mop in a headlock THRU her shorts. A little minor gardening can go a long way. There’s a reason horticulture is an actual profession. Nobody likes bad gardens and weedy plants. Call your arborist. Nobody’s saying your ass needs a Brazillian. But fuck, how about a Panamanian or something…you know, meet a motherfucker half way and shit.

4. Baby powder is important — except when I can see it.

At that point it becomes nasty. If I’m not trying to bake bread, I don’t want to see shit that looks like flour. Why do women come outside all baby powdered up anyway? Like, who the fuck thought that was a good idea? “Girl, I’m almost ready, let me douse myself in baby powder so I can look like the ghost of Jackie Robinson. All the menses love that shit.”

Seriously, I know it’s important to be clean before a little lickylickybouncybouncy, but what if no shower’s available? No licky for you. I’m almost sure it says, “Do not eat baby powder. It does not taste like powdered sugar.”

If this is you, open the medicine cabinet, take too many pills and kill yourself.

5. Clip your motherfucking toenails.

It’s been said a million times over but if your feet look like they’re made for lumberjacking, well, I don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity. You might fuck around and slice my leg or something. And good gracious, you’d probably have the nerve to wear sandals too…wouldn’t ya bitch?!?! Wouldn’t ya?! CVS sells toenail clippers for pretty cheap. Do the air a favor and clip the toenails. Nails so jacked up you out there slicing air.

6. Let’s talk about summer dresses, mmkay?

Lord do I love summer dresses. The way they lay on chicks who have the body’s for them. However, that implies some women don’t have the body for them. It’s true. I’ve seen it. Dress looks like its fighting for position because some woman just HAD to get that one that’s a few sizes too small. If your shit can’t blow in the wind because it’s too busy being a catsuit you need Jesus.

7. If you look bad in a bra and panties, you will look worse in a bikini.

Once again, bikini’s ain’t for everybody. Shit, swimwear ain’t for everybody. The summer is the time when people like to wear less and the beach is the wear less oyster. And ya know, that’s fine. On the beach, you can do what the fuck you want. The goal is to be in the water. However, if your ass is walking down Collins in South Beach wearing a bikini that looks offended to be associated with you…Houston, we have a problem. Just stop it.

8. If you’re not hot…

…summer is so not your season. Perhaps you’d do better in Fall.

9. If you do have a nice body, make sure you accentuate it.

Don’t be out there being all ashamed that God provided you with men’s kryptonite. Though there is something to be said for leaving something to the imagination, most of us would rather not have to have the imagintion of JK Rowling in order to want to flub you. Show a lil skin if you got good skin. If not, just wear a leather jacket. And if your skin looks like a leather jacket…umm…eww.

10. Just say to yourself that you don’t want to be a hot ass mess.

As long as you try not to be a hot ass mess, I’m sure you can achieve it. As long as you got good friends too. If you’re a total loner except for your cat and a few cans of tuna…

…hibernate til winter.

Thank you and goodnight.

[***This post is long. Like Panama-length long. I'm dropping k-nowledge that many people might find useful. I'm trying to save you motherfuckers money. Do the k-nowledge and read. ***]

For the past 9 months now, I’ve been managing a nightclub in DC. It’s a pretty well-known spot and we hold all types of events. We’ve had Erykah Badu hosting a party and have had 9th Wonder (of Little Brother, Mary J. Blige, Jay-Z production fame) spinning on the 1’s and 2’s. We’ve held court for The Roots crew and had ?uestlove spinning old school classics. We’ve done concerts and happy hours. Cornel West has been there as has Malcolm Jamal-Warner. Dick Gregory randomly strolled by one day. We’ve hosted First Fridays. We’ve hosted fundraiser gala’s.

Basically, we’re all purpose like a motherfucker. For as many successful events as I’ve seen happen at our club, I’ve witnessed a million terrible events. And by terrible I mean, nobody shows up…period. Bad planning. Just an all around fuckfest of an event. In fact, we often joke about the worst parties we’ve had. The running joke–and I’m not sure how it started–between me and one of the owners is that whenever a bad party happens, “it’s another Panama party”. Me no know.

I know that there are are a lot of burgeoning event planners and party promoters out there who think that they can throw parties and just know that they’d be good at it.

Yeah. Okay.

Before you put all of your money where my hand is, let me explain to you how to throw a bad party. People often times tell you what you need to throw the party to end all parties. Fuck that. Let me explain to you the mindstate that goes into throwing a bad party. Follow me.

10 WAYS TO THROW A SHITTY PARTY AND HEAR THE OWNER SAY, “FUCK YOU, PAY ME”

1) Think that just because you’ve throw a few successful house parties, you can step up into the big leagues.

Methinks that this is where everything goes wrong for most people. You see, house parties, though they involve planning, are just that. House parties. You don’t need nearly as many people to fill a house as you do to fill a club. Folks don’t pay a cover. Further, you can tell people to bring bottles of liquor and most will comply. You need a marginal sound system. Basically, the ONLY think you need for a house party is really the house and some speakers. And some red cups. You can tell people to bring liquor but the least you can do is get the Solo cups. And do you know what luxury you have by throwing a house party? No cost…well, aside from the potential damage that may occur during said houseparty. But really, if you know enough broke people…ya know, the motherfuckers who DON’T feel like getting dressed up and paying for the luxury of seeing people that they don’t know, you can throw successful houseparties once a month or more than that if you throw one party where major shit went down that keeps people talking.

Hell, people LIKE house parties because they’re low maintenance and low budget. It’s the “I have shit else to do” alternative to sitting at home scratching your balls and being a loser on a Friday night.

2) Think that your friends are going to support you in all of your endeavors in life.

Hmm…yeah. No. If you think that just because you’re throwing a party your friends will come out and be your source of support you are sadly mistaken. Unless you are known for throwing the banging ass house parties (see 1) a solid 10 percent maybe of all the friends you invite are going to come to your party and PAY to get in to said party. Let’s just be real here. Friends feel like they should get friend priveleges. They want that $Free.99 hookup. Problem is, maybe the owner is getting a cut of the door and he’s going to be very careful about you letting in everybody unless it’s outlined upfront. Shit…I fuckin’ MANAGE a nightclub and do you know how many people I know who’ve ONLY been there for shit like my birthday?! And they’d get in free. Just because you’re doing it doesn’t mean that anybody is coming. That Field of Dreams shit? For birds and white people.

And to piggyback on #2…

3) Think that everybody who says they’re coming…is coming.

Most promoters use the half-half metric. This means that if they get 300 RSVPs, they expect maybe half will show up. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in meetings with promoters who tell me, “yeah man, it’s looking great, I have like 1000 RSVPs!” Day of the party and 30 people show up. I’m not sure why this little facet of life eludes people but read this very carefully:

IT TAKES NOTHING TO RSVP TO AN EVENT. Hell, I can’t go to shit because I work on every Friday and Saturday night but do you know I RSVP for damn near every event that comes my way…AND I KNOW I CAN’T EVEN GO! Everybody RSVP’s for shit like free guestlists so that they can cover all of their options SHOULD THEY decide to actually go out.

Word to the wise, don’t be a dolt…any motherfucker can RSVP.

4) Think you can do it by yourself.

Look, the only things in life that ALWAYS works out okay solo are masturbating and first-degree murder. Word to OJ Simpson. Everything else helps to have a partner or somebody to help cover the bases. This is the catch-22 that most solo promoters get themselves caught up in. Sure, if you’re night is a success, you reap all the reward. But if it doesn’t? You lose dunny. You stay losing too because unless you got major dolo, you probably weren’t expecting to have to come off of $3,000 dollars to cover the bar minimum that you didn’t reach.

Here’s a little knowledge for you folks thinking about joining the wonderful world of club promotion. It’s a business. Wait…y’all must didn’t hear that Tribe Called Quest shit…

IT’S A BUSINESS. You and the owner agree to terms that are going to be beneficial for you both, but moreso for the owner. You’re getting a bar miminum. For the uninitiated, that means you will have an agreed upon amount that the bar must meet in order for you to basically walk out of the club breaking even. This also supposes that the owner is not taking anything off of what you charge at the door.

Many club owners want some of the door and want the bar. Promoters want the door and some of the bar. You see how that can get muddled?

So say you have a party on a Friday night with a bar minimum of $5,000 (which is cheap actually, I mean it is Friday), and you’re charging $20 at the door. Well, if 100 people show up, that $5000 is a pretty hard number to reach because everybody has to spend: what class??!?!

$50 bucks! Yeah, that ain’t happening. Consider that women are cheap bastards and also that folks do not want to blow $50 bucks on drinks AFTER they just blew $20 at the door.

And if the party is wack, folks will leave early. Sure they’re mad that they paid $20, but chances are you said folks would get in free before 11pm or something ANYWAY to get them there. Effectively, you’ve made NOTHING at this point. With 100 people you’re lucky if your bar does $2,000. So say it does. And say 50 of those 100 paid to get in.

What you’ve effectively done is made $1,000 at the door and the bar did $2,000. And let’s say the owners benevolent and doesn’t take anything from the door. Chance are you paid at least $1,000 up-front to reserve the party since owners ain’t stupid. They want some cash (or credit card) as a deposit…and it’s non-refundable. If you meet your minimum, you get it back. So you have a $5,000 minimum, you made $2,000 at the bar so you owe $3,000. Well, you put down a $1000 deposit, so now you owe $2,000.

My guess is that you AREN’T going to ante up that $1,000 you made at the door though its the smart thing to do. So you’re in the whole 2 stacks. Solo. All by yourself.

You don’t want that. Believe you me. You might be doing well in life, but coming off of 2 stacks solo because your party flopped is not a good look.

Promoting is a team sport unless owners all just like you and let your party happen without consequence. But umm…Roseanne ass chance there bucko.

5) Think that just because you’re nice you can be a good promoter.

Fact is, everybody ain’t a promoter. Just because you like talking to people doesn’t mean you can be a good promoter. You know why? All nice people ain’t sales people. Promotion is sales. You have to effectively convince people to come to your party and spend their money on your vision. Why should anybody come to your party and spend their money to make you money? Especially if you have no resume, so to speak. I’ve met people who’ve convinced themselves that they’re promoters and their parties always suck. Always. Nobody comes. And you know who notices that nobody comes?

Club owners. They do not like not making money. It is not a good look. Your party will get Republic Gardened (RIP). And the manager, me, will come and shut shit down early much to your disdain but guess who won’t give a shit?

Me. The manager. If it doesn’t make dollars, it doesn’t make sense. People don’t realize that when you open club doors, you start out losing money in wages. All the people that come to work HAVE to be paid whether anybody comes to your shit or not.

6) Think that you don’t have to spend a lot of time ACTUALLY promoting.

Promoting sucks. You have to get flyers and meet people all the time. It’s tiresome. Once you’ve been in the game long enough where word-of-mouth carries then you’re straight. You can just send out emails and people will come because you have a track record. But until that point, you’re ass is a campaigning fool. You have to hit the streets gathering emails and making nice with women and babies. You can’t just assume that folks will show up to your even because you got some place to open the doors. Basically, you AREN’T Marc Barnes. Promoting is hard work. Not only that, you have to convince owners to let you throw parties at their place. And if you’re Black and cater to a Black crowd…well, that can take some major convincing.

7) Think that some people wouldn’t rather sit at home reading a book than come out to your party.

This is more of a niche market thing. If you’re target audience is the urban professional crowd. Know that some of these people, namely the women, won’t mind sitting at home reading a book or watching Lifetime instead of coming out to your party. People who read ALWAYS have options. They can go out for drinks early and go home and be comfortable at home and not have to worry about some overly-aggressive behemoth palming their asses because he IS one of those folks who will spend $50 bucks at the bar (or a couple thousand because he’s a baller…and an idiot). Pretty simple there.

8 ) Think that because you threw ONE good party that all of your parties will be good.

I’ve seen this one with my own two eyes a few times. Circumstances created a party that wasn’t into the party of the year. There is a term for this occurrence:

fluke.

Flukes do happen and it’s probably best to operate under the auspices of recognizing that flukes do happen. When your party erupts into something way bigger than you expected, be happy and bask in the success. Do not however, think that it gives you leverage and come to people with an attitude of, “I think my track record speaks for itself.”

It doesn’t speak. In fact, it’s mute. Your track record was a fluke and you will get yourself in trouble because owners want to make money and might bank on a fluke. Thing is, YOU are left holding the financial bag. And we’ll be more than happy to add bags to you.

Realize that people come to the club of their choice because they felt it was their best option on that particular night, not because they like you. In a major city, those options can change instantly.

One good party does not another good party make.

9) Think that spending all your money on a big-name (or pseudo big-name) DJ is going to bring out the people.

A great DJ of national fame will always bring out people. Thing is, those people have proven track records of rocking parties…pretty erroneously. Somebody had to get those people INTO those venues at some point to GET those DJ’s to national prominence. Another thing to remember is this, much like HDTV’s, all DJ’s are going to play the same shit anyway. Unless, of course, you’re going for a totally different type of party. You don’t get a DJ who specializes in Afro-beat if what you want is Souljaboy. They’re all playing the same songs. On a good night, folks will say, “MAN…who WAS that DJ?!?! He was rocking.” On a regular party night, folks will just dance and enjoy themselves.

Of course, you NEVER want folks to say, “who the FUCK was that whack ass DJ?! He played ‘Hello Eireen’ between Souljaboy and Richboy.”

*cough?uestlovecough*

10) Think that because you ARE somebody, you can’t throw terrible parties.

Being humble in this business is a must because even Love has bad nights. Even the dudes with the biggest followings can have off nights. It happens to everybody. Once you go thinking that you’re such-n-such and that your name alone brings people out, you get a wack night where nobody shows up and a slight melee ensues between you and security and the manager and the owner causing little dudes to break up fights in the middle of the dance floor.

****

These are all things to consider when thinking of throwing a party. It’s way easier than you think to catch a brick on a party…even if you are somebody.

Before you get ready to throw your next party at any club and end up owing the club $5,000, read these rules and think.

Just think…

…we’ll be more than happy to take your money.

Don’t be so quick to give it all up.

“…something ain’t right, it’s the strobelite…” - Dres of Black Sheep, “Strobelite Honey” A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Has this ever happened to you?

You go to the club and meet a woman who looks like Nia Long in the club and when you see her in broad daylight she looks like the broad side of a barn? Or have you met a man in the club who looked like Brad Pitt and when you go out in a well-lit, high traffic and visible, public place, he looks like Michael Chertoff?

By the way, if you have no idea who Michael Chertoff is, you really need to read more. At least crack a newspaper or something.

If this has ever happened to you, then you have become a victim of club goggles. What are club goggles?

Club Goggles. noun. the view that one gets while in a place of hedonistic joy of an object of interest that is skewed by the lighting that might render said object of interest as being more attractive than God has intended them to be. Synonyms: beer goggles, work goggles.

Club goggles are an epidemic in this country. They are the reason that so many first dates go down in flames. You can’t be happy when you get your mind ready for filet mignon and you get steakums. Or you have your soul ready for 2 spicy chicken sandwiches from Checker’s and you get home and they’ve not only only given you one sandwich, but its a daggone fish filet sandwich…AND YOU DON’T EAT FISH.

You see, club goggles are a menace to society. Similar to O’Dog. You see club goggles show no mercy and will shoot anybody. Club goggles, just don’t give a fuck. They come in and swoop your sensibilities and parade your souped up version of a busted person before you numerous times throughout the night and then cause you to hold onto this false image until you go out on a date or something.

As an aside, I’ll bet that if we really tried, and if we took certain interpretation liberties, that we could find a way for all of the 10 commandments to be broken in the club.

Not that I’m a heathen or anything. I just know how to rack up Hell points is all.

So…

Seriously, I’ve been a victim of club goggles on more than one occasion. Luckily, my hesitation at seriously trying to holler at one of the chicks proved correct when I saw the little minion strolling the mean streets of DC a few days later and she looked like a gargoyle.

No lie. What followed was a quick laugh, a longer prayer, and me victoriously throwing my hands in the sky, pointing and saying “You da MAN!!!!”

Chuuch.

Since I’m such a nice fellow, I realize that people need to be aware that club goggles are out there lurking and that with just a little bit of thought, you can avoid waking up next to a woman who looks like Jabba The Hut. Of course, if that’s your thing, then hey, by all means, do you. Or her.

Thing is, you don’t have to be a victim. Here, I’ve comprised 3 simple rules that you can follow to ensure that the person you meet in the club is still the same person you see a few days later. Me, I don’t downward spiraling surprises. If you don’t either, then just follow along.

1. You don’t have to get the number at the spot you meet, you can wait until you have better light.

Think about it. You’re in the club. It’s dark. Your vision had to adjust to being in a dark space. You should realize that if your vision had to adjust, then potentially its adjusted to your interests face as well. Perhaps, finding a more lit part, which will uncoincidentally be better for conversation since we all like to be in the darkest parts of the club t get our inner-perv on, will enable you to actually see what in the hell you are considering adding to your cellphone.

Speaking of cellphones, fuck it, take a picture and look at it in the bathroom. Also, notice if you’re the ONLY dude trying to holler. In this case, numbers don’t lie.

According to Shakira, the hips don’t lie either, but trust me, don’t believe that shit at all.

2. Make sure you leave when she leaves so you can see her outside.

You know, this happened to me recently. I wasn’t actually trying to holler at her anyway, but inside this woman seemed so hot. Outside, she seemed so not. Seeing her outside…

…not a good look. Went from a Darkness 8 to a Lightness 6. I’m talking in under 10 minutes too. That’s the difference in bragging about what you’re bringing home to meet he parents and not even telling your boys about meeting her.

“We don’t date 6’s” 3. A.C.A.F.

It’s a simple acronym that more people should be aware of, even if just for safety reasons. Who knew it would be helpful in the club as well. You’d never believe how a simple technological innovation would be able to keep you from knocking up a busted ass woman, or sleeping with a man who looks like the ugly version of an ugly person. Which is actually possible. In fact, I know this chick from undergrad who is recognized as being quite the unattractive woman. In what can only be described as a glitch in the ugly matrix, I found the unattractive version of the busted chick.

It was a dark day. Which is funny since we’re speaking of club goggles and its usually caused due to darkened conditions in the club.

What was I talking about again? Ah yes…A.C.A.F.

Quite simple actually and will solve all your problems.

Always Carry A Flashlight.

That, mi compadres, will solve all your problems.

A long time ago, I crafted a manual on how to obtain the second “X” in your sexxiness. Being as I’m the official purveyor and ace numero uno when it comes to laying down that sexxaliciousness, I figured that I’d share. And if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, sharing is caring.

In fact, here is a link to the aforementioned, currently being mentioned again, and will be mentioned once more so it can now and forever be men-tioned: Panama “Mr. Oh So Sexxy” Jackson’s Guide To Obtaining Your Second “X”

Be apprised of the knowledge that I bring forth. Be apprised.

Yay-men.

Well, just as with any situation where you put knowledge out into the atmosphere, there is a flipside to such knowledge. You can’t become sexxy without having the ability to just become “sey”.

Yes, you can become unsexxy, similary known as “sey”, very easily. You see, sexxy is a state of mind. But Idaho? That’s a state in the USA.

Hey, click here.

*snicker*

Losing your “x’s” is a problem. And it should be avoided at all costs. Now some people just aren’t sexy. Which means that they probably can’t be sexxy even if they tried. But if you have some sexy-ness about yourself and hence some sexxy-ness then it is wholly possible that you’re sexxy and your sexy is full of sex appeal which is why we’re here today on the Eve of Adam.

Get it?

Got it?

Good.

So let us begin.

Panama Jackson Presents…How To Lose Your “X” In 10 Minutes Or Less

1. Have the most Gawdawful walk on Earth

This is more for the ladies. Some women have very sexxy walks. Some women just walk. Which is fine. Then there are some women who walk like it hurts. And that, is not sexxy. You see, you get points for having a sexxy walk and neither gain nor lose points for having a non-memorable walk. But if you walk towards me looking like King Kong just got finished putting a hurting on your ass…and we both know King Kong doens’t exist…I will find you to be in contempt of sexxy.

Guilty. Go holla at Forrest Gump, beyotch.

2. Be Colorblind…On a Tuesday

You know what is really unsexxy? People who do a juuuuuust a little bit too much for no apparent reason. You know the people who are hell bent on making those three shades of pink match. You know what I’m talking about. Folks who go one step past fly into OHMYFUCKINBEHEEFUS. I live in Washington, DC. It’s been hot as THE FUCK here for the past few weeks. Not to be confused with hot as fuck which is a little bit cooler and more tolerable than hot as THE FUCK. You see, the latter has capital letters and everything.

So why, oh why, did I see on Saturday, as a friend of mine and I were sitting outside on my stoop watching the cars drive by did we see a man driving a mini-van in 98 degree heat with a button up long sleeved blue and yellow shirt with an off color ass sweater vest on. In the summer. With the windows rolled down.

You see? Doing too much. Un sexxy. I’m sure that dude shriveled up somewhere and exploded into a pile of hot ass black dust. And rigthtly so. He is stupid. And thereby, unsexxy.

3. Since we already started down this path…be dumb. And not as in “go dumb” like you’re from the Yay area either. I mean as in, “books don’t do shit for me” dumb.

Stupidity is the easiest path to unsexxiness. Not being able to point out where you live on a map will not only not win you a date with Tad Hamilton, it will unwin you a date, conversation, and chance at the firstborn of Panama Jackson. And I know women hate dumb men.

For real though, I’ll never understand how folks can date really stupid people. I start to get hives when people who are afraid of information come into my sphere. It’s the quickest way to go from “oh she’s fine” to “i’ll break her off if she never speaks.”

That’s true by the way, but they always speak.

4. Key My Car

Oops…that’s a leftover from the “How To Get Your Ass Beat In 10 Minutes or Less” list…

This does bring up a question though: why in the FUCK do women think its okay to key a man’s car? I got into a spirited debate with a young lady the other night about this. She felt she was justified because of all the bad shit he’d done. Now did her ex deserve some payback? Potentially. But I just don’t think keying a man’s car is going to get the point across. He will not learn. He will just be pissed.

Word to the wise, if I see somebody keying my car? Beat. Down.

Aha…

4. Just Be Annoying

I don’t care how attractive you are in theory. If you are annoying, you are not sexxy in practice. Period. Point blank.

Luckily, most supremely attractive women aren’t overly annoying since they spend so much time being fine that they don’t get the option to be annoying since they spend so much time being annoyed at the annoying fruitflies. Kind of addition by subtraction, if you know what I mean.

Perhaps you don’t.

You should read more.

5. Be an Un-fun Asshole

I’m an asshole. It’s been proven time and time again. Some say its part of my charm because at least I’m not mean. I tend to skew towards funny. And for all you people who only listen to people like Paul Wall, skew is similar to leaning, except smart people use it to make mention of the fact that their biases lean them in a particular way.

For instance, Fat Joe could have easily renamed the song “Lean Back” to “Skew”. You see, Fat Joe’s dancing tendencies seem to skew towards backwards motions. Hence, he leans back. See, skew.

Long shot? You bet your ass it was.

Education…Panama Jackson style.

Anyway, being an unfun asshole, you know the kind that makes other people mad and manages to lose friends at amazing rates, is definitely unsexxy. If this is you, go die.

6. If you’re a woman, never smile

You cannot be sexxy if you never smile. It is written. It is spoken (or would be if not for the fact that this whole online thing is causing people to have to read this…but I’ll tell you though).

I like women with happy demeanors and smiles. I always have. That’s not to suggest that I haven’t dated women who don’t smile so often, but smiling is a definite plus. However, if you never smile, I will think you are an asshole, and an un-fun one at that.

Once again, fine in theory. Unfine in practice. Show them pearly whites.

(Do you realize how, like, none of this, has anything to do with 10 minutes or less??)

7. Be one of those assholes who never knows what they want to do but rejects every idea that gets tossed into the ring.

Umm…this is just a personal pet peeve of mine. Hence, I will remove some sexxy from you for that shit. Either put up or shut the fuck up. In fact, all people like this should be placed on House Arrest, STAT. Can you imagine though how funny that would be? What if we put all of those people in a room together with one of those 1000 item menus from a chinese carryout. Would they all just eventually starve to death or would somebody finally get so pissed that they’d attempt to storm out except we’d have Jerry’s Angels keeping them all in the house causing them to be even more pissed while no decisions ever get made? Seems like bedlam to me. What’s the over/under on the amount of time it would take for somebody to get stabbed? My money is on 8.4 minutes.

8. Be unable to laugh at yourself

If you’re the type of person that always gets pissed when folks laugh at you for doing stupid shit, you’re not sexxy. In fact, you’re probably really annoying (see #4), probably an asshole (see #5), and if you’re a woman you probably never smile (see #6). Hence, you are unsexxy and probably don’t have any real friends.

That was harsh wasn’t it.

Well so is life bitch. So is life.

9. Always being a late bastard

I’m sorry, but constantly late people cannot be sexxy. If you forego my time for your own personal gain I will want to run you over with my car. Since that’s against the law for some reason, I will just never speak to you again. And remove all of your Kool-Aid points and all available X’s in your bank account.

My cup runneth over…and over…and over. I just felt like writing that.

Honestly though, I do not understand constantly late people. It makes little to no sense to me. If you say you’re going to be somewhere at 8pm, then getting there at 930pm is late and you should be bludgeoned with a hunk of lard. Of course this doesn’t apply to club situations but anything else? Oh yeah…I will hate you.

And finally, the last way (that I can think of right now and I’m really pulling some of this out of my ass) to lose your sexxy is this:

10. Not listen to Panama Jackson when he drops jewels and nuggets and pints of knowledge.

I am sexxy. Therefore I know what sexxy is. Therefore, if you don’t listen to Mr. Oh So Sexxy, how can you rightfully expect to be sexxy. You can’t, that’s how.

I have spoken.

Go forward with this information and do with it what you may, but just remember, sexxy is a state of mind…

…but you can so fuck it up in any of the other 50 states.

(And yes there are different rules for European sexxy. European sexxy allows men to dress like women. And that is just not right over here and shouldn’t be right anywhere. But you know, they’re European…)

Over the duration of the time that I’ve been blogging, I’ve gotten numerous requests and various questions as to why I don’t have any pictures up on my site. Or better yet, I’ve been said to lack courage (recently) for not having any pictures up and available for the masses…as if I’m hiding something.

Trust me. The kid is sexxy.

I’m not hiding shit.

I may, however, be smarter than you.

And do you know why I’d make such a bold, arrogant, and completely unnecessary statement?

Well, for one, because it’s true.

And for two, because I know good and damn well that anybody and everybody has access to anything that shows up online.

And just for kicks…I can say it because I’m sexxy.

I am what some people in the white community call, employed. Legally and gainfully. Why in the living shit would I jeopardize a paycheck that comes every two weeks, on time, by placing pictures up on a site where I skewer any and everything…to include things that may or may not be related to my job?

I don’t hear any muhfuckas asking…fuck that, requesting that I prove who I am and my sexxy, offering to front my salary for a year on the chance that some government search entity decides to accidentally mosey on over to ole JGT Headquarters and then, poof, vamoose, son of a bitch.

Fired for making inflammatory comments or some dumb shit.

My job doesn’t cause me to be in the public realm and actually frowns upon it. In Washington, when you end up online or in the news…it’s usually not a good thing. Trust me on that one.

In fact, there is a mantra espoused around here that seems to fit the point: If you don’t want to see it on the front page of the Washington Post…don’t write it down.

The reason this came up, and also why it fits into my campaign to lobby for better criminals in America is because, once again…

…people are fucking stupid.

With the advent of Facebook and MySpace, legions of young people from ages 12-30 are posting pictures, personal blog entries, hobbies, likes, dislikes, etc. all over the internet. Harmless right? Fucking wrong. Just yesterday, there was an article in the New York Times about employers who do online searches looking for the folks they are intending to hire. You know, just to see what’s out there if anything.

And do you know what these employers are finding? Dumb fuckers who write shit like, “I like to smoke weed 2 to 3 times a week while I’m sipping some Tanqueray and smacking the ass of a phat ass stripper.”

And umm, contrary to popular belief, that statement probably came from a white dude.

If I’m an employer, don’t you think that it might make me think twice about this upstanding, Harvard MBA, yada yada yada. True, those things might not have anything to do with job performance, but you know what, I’d be willing to bet that in most interviews, the things that employers look for first is character. In the hour they spend talking to you, what lies are you able to convincingly get across? Are you trustworthy? Honest? Punctual? Not likely to end up in jail for doing dumb shit?

A lot of folks might say, “well that just doesn’t seem right.” Employers shouldn’t be out there looking for that type of information on you. That’s not fair. And if you really think that…you are an idiot.

Let me just say that one mo’ ‘gain. You. Are. An. Idiot.

They are looking to pay you money to do them a service. Hell, they should be able to do any and every damn thing they want to make sure they are making a good investment. And guess what? You do the exact same shit.

What is this same shit that I’m referring to?

You google EVERYBODY.

If you meet somebody today, and they give you their name, you and all of your friends are going to google this muhfucka to see what you can find out. Hell, you’ve probably googled yourself twice this morning! You want to know what my real name pulls up on Google?

I’m either: 1) dead (as in executed in prison); 2) a graphics designer; or 3) an athlete who seemingly topped out in college.

Luckily, none of that is damning. But let somebody come across this site. Sure they’ll be entertained (hopefully), but can I really blame them for thinking twice about inviting me in for an interview? They might ask me to come do a comedy show…and then send me on my way. But, I’d rather be paid for my services, not thanked for being funny.

Hell, I remember at one of the blogger meet-up/happy hours in DC last year that the main point that everybody hit home is that, none of these pictures need to find their way online. And do you know why that was so important? Because nearly everybody that lives and works in DC has ties to the government who might not like the bloggadacious nature of what we write about. Or even more simply, most of don’t even know if we’re even “allowed” to be blogging. So why risk it? Were there pictures taken? Of course. Have you seen them?

Probably not. But back to the point.

Why wouldn’t I expect job employers to google me in today’s day and age? Or check Facebook? Or MySpace? You’re also forgetting that a lot of recruiters are young. So they KNOW what to look for. And here we go, putting all the stupidest information on ourselves out for the entire world to see, then wonder why we can’t find jobs at times.

There’s a very good reason why I had to tell somebody who had a picture of me up on MySpace, with my name and shit PROMINENTLY displayed on it to take it down. Despite not really caring for my job all that much…well, I’d like to keep it for a while.

You know, ride this paycheck thing out and see where it takes me.

And thus finds us in the times of lackluster ass criminality. If you put on your MySpace page that you like to have sex with monkeys while sipping a MaiTai with Tah-Tah in Nevada (word life), then that’s your own fault if you can’t quite seem to get any job interviews. Of course, that’s assuming that you have placed your real name and shit on the site. Which for some strange reason…SO many people have done.

I suppose it’s one thing if you keep your site clean. Nothing out of the ordinary, or nothing too provocative or incriminating. But realize that the more information you put out there, the more can be used in determining things about yourself. Granted, nearly anybody with a site or a MySpace page is slightly narcissistic and wants a piece of the limelight, but I’m sure getting busted at 2am on national news because you got caught sending messages to a 14 year old girl through MySpace is how you really want to get caught.

Nor should you be a high-ranking official in the federal government either. But that’s neither here nor there.

Better criminals. I don’t know how else to say it. If you have your name plastered all over the internet with pictures of you smoking rocks and giving head to a sailor on the good ship Lollypop, then that’s all your fault dumbass.

You are an idiot.

Just something to think about.

So the next time you ask me why I don’t have pictures up online, or why the pictures on my MySpace page don’t give you a clear shot of my face so YOU can know what I look like…it’s because nobody has offered to pay me annually for my services.

You seeing me for the 5 seconds it would take to look at my picture and say, “Okay, that’s Panama,” could potentially cost me tens of thousands of dollars in annual salary that I’m sure you wouldn’t be willing to pay me.

Just doesn’t seem fair.

And quite frankly, it ain’t worth it.

I’m a much better criminal than that.

This has been a Public Service Announcement brought to you by the Better Crime in America (BCA) Campaign. Get your fuckin’ act together before you do something stupid. Good night and good luck.

I’m at the least focused point I’ve ever been in my life right now. For one, the heat is about to finally show up to stay and I just love the summer. Now, I’m no fan of 95 degree days, but I do look forward to 65 degree mornings.

And second, one of my boys is getting married. I couldn’t be happier. I looked at their wedding website and it just made me feel all happy and shit.

In fact, I’m feeling all emotional right now. Plus I watched Love Actually last night too.

Hold me.

Okay, that’s not really true (the emotional part, I did watch Love Actually last night), but I’m on my way to celebrate the wedding festivities, leaving tomorrow morning in fact not returning until Tuesday afternoon, which has rendered me totally incapable of coherent thought and focus. I must be the second most useless employee this side of the Mississippi right now. Who’s the first?

That would be me right before I went to Vegas. And I’m only at my second most useless right now because the powers that be have hit me with all kinds of shit to do, and a nationally broken headline story peripherally involves yours truly. So let’s just say, the potential for having to do work during the wedding weekend is high.

Well, despite my lack of focus right now, I still have been very observant of the changing seasons and the impact it has on people’s habits. Specifically the period of transitioning from spring to summer when invariably…

…some of y’all niggas lose y’alls damn mind.

So like the million other people, in my bored and ready-to-roll-out-like-Luda-n-em, I decided to put together a do’s and don’ts for the summertime.

Panama Jackson Presents…Do Read This List and Don’t Be A Menace To South Central While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood: Summer Tips 101

***Note: This slight list of tips will include shit for all ages and both men and women. Lickety-split. ***

Do be conscious of the fact that all people cannot wear all things. If you are a 300 pound woman, you cannot wear a size 2 anything. Honestly, nobody wants to see your skin. Make sure you can cover the shit up.

With that in mind…

Don’t color coordinate your clothing choices with your hair, ladies (Seen this morning upon entering my building at work). It’s not a good look…especially if you already color coordinated your hair with your skin tone. You will walk around looking like a nude crayon. Except nobody likes fake nude people. Or crayons. We feel cheated. Just stop it!

Do enjoy the lovely outdoors whenever you can.

Don’t fuck it up by shooting somebody. You know the crime rates increase in the summertime cuz niggas get hot and agitated. Calm the fuck down.

Do use lotion on your flour-kickers if you must wear sandals. This rule does not apply to white people so much. Though I do suggest using lotion on your feet anyway. But more for health and not aesthetic reasons.

And along those lines…

Don’t over do the baby powder. Especially on the chest region. Not only do I not understand it, but you will walk around looking like you’re about to be put in a deep fryer. Again, not a good look.

Speaking of ungood looks…

Do make sure that you don’t try too hard to bring certain dead styles back. I’ve seen a few women in the past few weeks rocking polka dots. Now I’m not saying it’s not okay, but I am saying don’t do it. It wasn’t hot when it was in style, it definitely won’t be hot now that its been laid to rest and one-line ethered by the Notorious B.I.G. Just because Kwame can make a comeback doesn’t mean polka dots can.

Do me baby.

Don’t speak.

Do wash your cars because there is nothing worse than driving around in the summer with a dusty ass ride. Women at busstops can’t really appreciate a dustymobile.

Don’t write anything overly obscene on anybody’s dusty ass car. A simple “wash me bitch” or “this fuckin’ car is dusty as fuck” will suffice.

Do make sure that your shoe game is in check. Keep them bitches clean. Especially your Air Force 1s (or Uptowns or Coke Whites, whatever you call them). For the life of me I’ll never understand why any grown ass man would walk around wearing shoes looking like they survived Vietnam. Women notice shoes, fellas.

As a caveat to a former one for the ladies:

Don’t wear shoes that are too small for your feet to handle. If you need to understand geometry and calculus in order to get your feet comfortably into your shoes, shoot yourself. Or if your not the violent type, just get some bigger got damn shoes, sasquatch.

Do make sure you summertime mackin’ game is intact. Please fellas, practice your game on minor league women you really don’t want before you go taking it to the big leagues. You make all men look bad when you have bad summertime game.

I realize that last one was bit jacked up and implies that some women should have game “practiced” on them. There is no set guideline for who the batting practice chicks are. Just assume you aren’t one. Mmkay?

Don’t deal with losers with zero game, ladies. It will have repercussions and reverberations for years to come on some sorry sap who really does like you. Feel free to clown a lame cat though. But give yourself a quota, only like, one a week or something.

Do go to a BBQ.

Don’t burn down a park. Smokey the Bear says only you can prevent forest fires. Hey, did anybody else ever notice that Smokey’s ass was always on the scene of forest fires? I’m not saying he lit them himself, but if there’s no fires he kind of doesn’t have a career now, does he? Think about it.

Do enjoy the summer.

Don’t stop loving me now…

Do miss me while I’m gone wedding-ing and drinking and not posting til next week sometime.

Don’t fret, this list is done.

Welcome, everybody, to hiphop week here at Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises. Because I am the master of my domain (that’s kind of funny if you think about it since I do indeed own this here domain and could be called Master…blaster…that’s some hiphop for that ass), I have decided that this entire week will be devoted to albums that changed my life, the culture, the people involved, and just all things hippety hoppity in nature.

First up, I’d bequeath you to venture over to The Champ aka D.Young’s site to witness the full scale ethering that has occurred. ANOTHER dumb fuck has gone and stolen blog entries from yours truly and D.Young and Brutha Code and Leon, etc. Why these ignant niggas don’t catch a clue I have no idea. I was going to son his ass over here today as well but el pussolito took down his site since, of course, he read D.Young’s site looking for something else to jack overnight and Poof the Magic Gila Monster, it’s magically gone.

Since Jason C. will no doubt read this at some point, I would like to say that I have to at least give you some credit bucko. I give you props for creating misspellings in my shit and adding your own little spin to or changing up sentences. Congratulations, you went from riding the bench on the AAU All-Pussy team to being a starter.

You remember Starter jackets? Hang yourself with one.

Unfortunately you’re a bitch and your momma should be disappointed in you. In fact, she should hate you. But thanks for the compliment of jacking my shit.

*****

Are you a school teacher and can’t understand why your students misspell simple words such as “them” or “the” and would like to understand how to better relate and you refuse to accept Ebonics?

Do you want to know why when answering a yes or no question, your students inexplicably always yell out “YEAAAAH!” at the top of their lungs? Or constantly question you by saying “WHAAAAAT?!” over and over?

Have you been trying to figure out just what kind of animal a Young Jeezy is since you can’t find a regular Jeezy in your state-sanctioned biology textbooks but are afraid to ask your students because you really should know?

Well fret not. The Tickle Academy is here to provide a quick tutorial for all of the white, black, yellow, and brown people who are so out of touch with the current hiphop trends that they didn’t know that “crunk” was not the past participle of crank.

We at The Tickle Academy strive for the ultimate in the education experience. Our motto? We learn you bitches good!

[***DISCLAIMER: This tutorial will not be about your daddy's hip-hop and its for the totally oblivious. This is about becoming a part of today's hiphop scene. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life. ***]

Welcome to hip-hop.

Step 1: Go To Your Local Ghetto and buy a Mixtape, Preferably from the G-Unit or Diplomats (Ask the African selling them who is who and try not to look too oblivious or you will end up paying 20 dollars for a 2 dollar mixtape).

There is no better place to start your hiphop experience than the modern day crapfest that are mixtapes. Plus, with this you can kill two birds with one stone. You see, mixtapes are easily downloadable from the internet, but you need to understand the place the mixtapes come from. Though more times than not, if you’re students constantly misspell “them” and “the” you just might working in the ghetto anyway, in which case, head to the internet and find a mixtape with some completely idiotic looking black man on the front usually flanked by lots of things he cannot afford. Look specially for tapes by some fellow who goes by the name of 50 Cent or a fellow who will probably be wearing lots of fur and shorts by the name of Cam’ron.

Why mixtapes? Well, mixtapes provide you the latest in what’s going on in modern day hiphop complete with the totally asinine niggas yelling over everysong and lackluster lyrical performances. Since rap really isn’t what it used to be anyway, the mixtape is the best place to see the very thing that is wrong with rap, aside from the exploitation of the industry. You see, today…

…rappers suck ass.

But alas, mixtapes provide lessons in slanguage, drug acumen, the federal penal code, and strip club etiquette. It is here that you will find out why your kids seem to be so good at moving the decimal in math, i.e. moving from kilo grams to milli grams, and going from ounces to pounds, but totally suck at English since they can’t seem to quite grasp that the concept that the proper way to say (and write) “hello” is not “What it do? What tha bizness is?”

Step 2: Venture to MTVJams.

It is very important to understand why the little girls at your school dress like hookers. Or why the young me dress like they’re parents don’t love them. Unfortunately, rappers are role models. Therefore it is important to watch some of rappers are doing since these will inevitably shape the trends your children see.

On the offchance that you see Shawnna’s video for “Gettin’ Some” and you have no clue what the hell she is “getting”…it is head. Head as in female fellatio. As in ticklin’ the clitlin’. Feel free to send any and all of your children to the principal’s office if they start singin’ that song in class. It is obscene.

Step 3: After you listen to the mixtapes and watch the videos, you will need a translator.

This may be the most important step. Reason being, just because you hear them doesn’t mean you understand one iota of what the helly they are saying. For instance, it is wholly possible that you have heard a few of your students telling the other students to “go dumb” or “go stupid” and you probably thought they were being unnecessarily rude. In fact, they were encouraging the other students to exercise as “going dumb” is a dance “craze” in the Bay area where folks basically just lose it and go gyrationistic and get “hyphy” which also means to “go dumb”.

But how would you know that?

Get a translator. Just pay some kid to shut up and explain the shit to you. Try not to sleep with said student if you’re a woman or you might end up on TV and then jail with a bunch of women who speak slang and won’t really be concerned if you don’t understand it.

Step 4: Go buy a hiphop magazine, preferably a XXL or a Vibe.

Now I particularly hate both of those magazines but they are pretty elementary so reading them should be a breeze. Other magazines are way better but they would require you to have some knowledge of something other than the ability to read. XXL or Vibe…do not. So, buy these magazines and skip about 80 pages to get past the ads that run rampant and read about your students favorite rappers du jour since the same rappers grace the covers of these magazines ad nauseum. Read about all of the drugs they sold and how they were just that nice with the microphone that they couldn’t not rap and get their boys out the hood. Also understand this, rappers have some strange names. Busta Rhymes is a person, not an action. I mean, it is an action, but in most cases its a person. And yes, even in rap, a man named Puffy can be somebody or a femininely named fellow named Suge Knight can be the most feared man in the industry. From jail.

Also recognize that a lot of these people are solely popular in the black world as Ted Turner probably has no idea who Suge Knight is.

He also doesn’t care.

And finally…

Step 5: Watch BET for no longer than 15 minutes at a time as the content will be offensive and you may get dumber.

This is the ultimate step for you. After having scoured mixtapes, videos, and magazines, its time to see if you can understand what goes on at the one place where all of that useless knowledge is, well, useful…BET. If you can watch BET, especially 106&Park and understand the hosts who say “that’s what’s up” entirely WAY too many times and you know what they mean; or you can watch Lil Kim’s “Going To Jail” special (why ANYBODY would want to chronicle somebody’s quest for jail is beyond me) and you undestand what the pint-sized violationist vixen is saying; or further, you understand, empathize, and decide that the whole Stop Snitchin’ campaign is totally and unavoidably necessary….well…

…then you have arrived.

You are now ready to take your knowledge into the classroom and the streets and show the little bastards who think they can run over you since you are so detached that you are down with Duke Da God. That you love Cam’ron and his intricate wordplay.

That Young Jeezy does indeed have a movement, not an album and every true nigga needs some Thug Motivation.

Welcome to the wonderful world of hip-hop 2006.

It is now and will be forever more that:

“Life ain’t nothing but bitches and money…”

Thank you for visiting and learning with The Tickle Academy.

We’ve all been there. You’re out, and you see somebody who catches your eye for whatever reason. Maybe its their eyes. Or maybe it’s their hair. Or maybe they just have that “thing” that Lauryn Hill was talking about that gets folks so messed up in the game.

Whatever it is, it renders you helpless to your impulses and forces you to just go over and speak. Everything is going well. Your “hello” was well received and a contrived albeit purposeful conversation was begun.

And then…

…that muhfucka says the utmost stupidest shit you’ve ever heard in your life. And presto changeo, stock drops. You’re selling the shit faster than your Enron. Yes, in just a few short minutes, it is possible to meet somebody who goes from being the cat’s meow to Alpo.

Hell, it’s happening right now in cities across America.

And yes, it can happen to you. Therefore, I figured the best way to counter that problem is to just offer a few situations that can render you unattractive to the opposite sex in 10 minutes or less. But before we do that, there is something that must be understood.

Panamalogy: Attractiveness is very similar to your college GPA. You may be fine, but if you fuck it up by saying/doing something stupid, your stock drops quick as hell and is damn near impossible to bring back up to where you dropped from. Just like with your GPA. How well you do in your first semester will essentially set the bar for how high you can go. If you don’t get a 4.0 in the first semester, you’ll never have a 4.0. If you bomb your first semester, you will be working like Kunte in Virginia trying to pull it up, and it will likely never get as high as you’d like it. Fine only counts if you never speak to the person, because that shit becomes all relative once they open their mouths and have every ability to fuck it up. And that’s a fact, Jack.

How To Become Unattractvie in 10 Minutes or Less: Fucking Up Your Future Forensically

1. Come off like you are the pure and unadulterated shit.

You ever meet somebody and they made it seem like you were lucky to even get the opportunity to do so? Oh yeah, tumble attractiveness, tumble. I know a woman who assumes that anytime a man speaks to her, he is trying to run game. Anytime. What I find funny about it is that she’s not attractive…in the first place. Hence, she will blow off nearly any man who even offers her so much as a compliment and assume that he is merely running more game than a crackhead from Hempstead.

Word to the wise, self-esteem is really important. What’s also important is realizing that if you have an 8 body and a 5 face, you are a 6.

And 6’s don’t come home to momma.

2. Have breath that is kicking like the Pink Power Ranger

Yes, halitosis is a real thing. I’m not even sure there needs to be an explanation here. Let’s just say, if nobody wants to talk to you and you look like Halle Berry, either you have a sign on your forehad that says “SARS lives here” or you’re breath is beyond reproach.

3. Bring up the fact that you live with your momma…in the first 2 minutes.

You know, for some reason, women attach a lot to your living situation. And that shit can make you look really Bobcat in a nanosecond. For one, I don’t even know how it comes up. There is no reason to mention it really. It’s something that should come up later. But yep, I guaran-damn-tee that if as a man, you bring this up somehow, you will become the male version of Solange. Not quite busted, but when stacked up against the former Beyonce that you could have been…well, she’ll pass.

By the way, did anybody catch the Tribe Called Quest reference a few paragraphs back? Go ahead, its okay, go try to find it.

4. Be a stank ass heifer/nigga

As opposed to coming off as the unadulterated shit, this is when you begin talking and you realize that her attitudes seem to be more along the lines of golddiggin’ ass hoes. For instance, say you walk over to her, and you see she’s reading the Randall Robinson book The Debt: What America Owes To Blacks and you use that to segue into a convo with her. And she tells you that, she’s reading it but for real, black people just need to get over it and quit being ghetto and that she wouldn’t want to be in undevelopoed ass Africa chucking spears so we should be thankful we live in America (5. Be ignant/ignorant/idignant/a Ying-Yang Twin

I use the word nigga a lot. A lot lot. But you wouldn’t know that from jump. Hell, unless I know you, I rarely use it on IM without asking you if its okay first. And cursing, I won’t curse unless I know you are 100 percent okay with it.

STOP.

Did anybody else see All Of Us last night where they tried to broach the topic of the using the N-word. I mean, nigga. They get an A for effort. But I just don’t know if UPN is equipped to handle such a difficult topic. I ended up cringing more and more as I watched it. Thank God for Uncle Dirk. The comic relief broke up the uberfuckery of a job that they attempted to do, from the drummed up emotion to the touching moments at the end. It just exposed the bad acting jobs they are capable of. Like I said, A for effort.

Back to the lecture at hand. So say you approach the you are feeling and in the first 2 or 3 minutes, they use the word nigga, or curse and no, hell or damn, but they use the word fuck. You just never know how folks feel about that kind of stuff. It’s always best to ease into that over time, you don’t just come out the gate with it when trying to make some sort of impression. You’re first words shouldn’t be, “yeah, a nigga spotted yo’ fine ass from across the room. I was finna come whisper in your ear, wait til you see my dick.”

Boris Kodjoe to Barney Fife in 3 minutes flat.

Not. A. Good. Look.

6. Just be damn dumb.

I don’t know about you, but I HATE dumb broads. With the passion of Mel Gibson. I know some folks who like dumb chicks cuz they are easy but that is an ultimate turnoff. If I see a fine woman who gets so excited because she just discovered that there are pens that if you push the button, the ball point comes out…well, she’s gettin’ chucked like Taylor. She will become very unattractive quickly to me. Dumb girls cannot be fine. It is mentally impossible for me to find dumb women attractive. I would assume that would be the same for men. Of course with the dating pool so shallow nowadays, I assume some women just take what they can get.

7. The Standards

What are the standards? You know, things like outwardly picking your nose, farting, or any of the other bodily functions one should reserve for private time. I know a chick who will burp, and then tell you about it. Needless to say, not very attractive.

8. Being a clutz or a klutz, depending on which way is the correct way to spell that

You know, nothing is worse than essentially being the embodiment of this statement: Girl, he’s fine, but…

Or. Son, she’s fine but…

Anytime you have a but attached, you just aren’t ranking high enough. And just being a total clutz or klutz from jump will do it unfortunately. If you spill my drink on me I’m going to not only wonder how in the hell you made that happen seeing as it was my drink, but i’m gonna be pissed. It’s hard to see attractiveness when pissedness comes into play.

Unless you’re just that fine where it doesn’t matter. Which is possible. Trust me.

9. Wear more makeup than Homey Da Clown.

Maybe this is just a personal thing. I don’t mind makeup. But I do mind additional faces created by too much makeup. And maybe I couldn’t tell that from afar. Upon closer inspection, you can become very unattractive if I’m not sure if your face really belongs to you or not. Nothing is scarier than possibly waking up next to a Gremlin. I’m probably not most men, but I’d just pass on that shit.

10. Have the ugliest walk known to man.

This an entire other post, but an ugly walk, will totally fuck up your attractiveness. If you walk like you never quite learned how to do it, well, you’re gonna be busted. Like I said, that’s another post.

These are but a few ways to become unattractive in 10 minutes or less. Don’t let it be you.

Unless of course you’re already busted in which case, it doesn’t matter and you can proceed as normal.

Over the past few months, I’ve posted on a plethora of things. Yet in all that time, I’ve managed to stray away from the most important thing I can think of in life…

…me…

…and my sexxy.

Yes you out there in the crowd?

Panama, how do you do it? How do you maintain your sexy?

Excuse me, it’s sexXy…two X’s.

How could you hear that I only used one X??

I’m sexxy like that.

In all my benevolence, I’ve decided to let you, the masses, in on a secret. As was offered in the comment section, I will offer up a step-by-step booklet (for you to get) on how to get your sexxy on. And no, this ain’t no Puffy-level Proactiv sexxy here…this is that real shit the shit to make you feel shit have you in the club lookin’ in the mirror while other folks love shit.

Yes, it’s the real…sexxy.

(I will also attempt to break the world’s record for the number of times the word sexxy can be used in a single entry.)

Sexxy sexxy sexxy sexxy sexxy sexxy.

I can do that…I’m sexxy.

I wasn’t always so sexxy. No. Once upon a time, I was a regular old traffic stopping stunner. But something was missing. Then one day, it happened. I realized that hey, Panama, you are a sexxy bitch. Umm…no brokeback. My friends from college can attest to the fact that I would indeed, rebut any stupid thing I said or did with the term, “I’m sexxy.” As if that automatically made whatever I said or did worthy of note, documentation, and Smithsonian review. They were sexxy times bitches…sexxy times. And they haven’t changed.

My name is Panama D. Jackson, and I am sexxy.

And you can be too. So let’s get started, shall we?

Yes, let’s.

Panama Jackson Presents…Obtaining Your Second “X”: The Killa’s 10 Commandments to Gettin’ Your SexXy

Yaymen.

“I’m so fly with it, look how I did it…” - Kanye West, “Late”, Late Registration

“the fuck you expect, I’ve got a history…” - Kanye West, “They Say”, from Common’s Be

I absofuckin’lutely love that line. And you will learn to love those lines as well. Some see those lines as arrogance, to me, I see it as truth (for Kanye and to a slightly lesser extent, yours truly). Which leads us right into our first Commandment.

1st Commandment: Thou shalt be convincing. And not be a dickhead whilst doing it.

The key to being sexxy is getting other people to buy into the bullshit you are espousing without belittling anybody in the process. People don’t like belittlers and women don’t like littlers. My weapon of choice is comedy.

Gem For Life: You can get away with damn near ANYTHING if you make people laugh. It also helps if you don’t look like a pterodactyl.

I am an asshole. I run with it. You see, I’m not afraid to let the asshole within out. You should do this as well. As long as you don’t piss people off in the process (read: comedy) you can get a pass on many a thing because people will hopefully know that deep down inside you aren’t NEARLY as bad as you come across or realize that some of it is show. Basically, don’t try to hurt people’s feelings and make them feel like you believe you are better than them. No, you are just more sexxy. There is a difference.

Simultaneously…

2nd Commandment: Thou shalt do what the fuck thou wantsteth to do.

You see, it is damn near IMPOSSIBLE to be sexxy if you are constantly second guessing yourself or worrying about what other muhfuckas are going to think after you do something. I mean, if you aren’t bringing down a government, fuck it…make it happen, cap’n. I say a lot of stupid shit. A lot. This blog is the tip of the iceberg. If you had to deal with what my friends had to deal with on a daily basis…well, let’s just say, I’ve got great friends. Thing is, I’m comfortable enough with my sexxy to keep it moving and offering up the random tidbits of what-the-fuckedness.

For instance. Or as the French would say, for instance. You see, that in and of itself was stupid as uptight downstrokes in the rain. 3rd Commandment: Don’t be afraid to be wrong.

You know why? If you are truly sexxy, as I am, you have a built in response to everything.

Panama, son, what is 2+2?

Shiiiiiit, 847!

Dude, it’s 4.

I’m sexxy.

End game. There is no retort because it requires none. You got the answer wrong, and are okay with it. You know why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because you are sexxy. That’s why.

4th Commandment: Be wrong and randomly wrong often.

You see, having that built in line, makes life all the more entertaining. You can just blatantly do your own thing at all times and spin the answers the way you see fit. If you think that 2+2 should be 5, then dammit, make sure everybody knows that. And in the event that people refuse to accept it, make sure to remind them just how sexxy you truly are and that your sexxiness trumps all else. Things that have rhyme and reason should no longer have rhyme and reason. In fact, you recreate the status quo. And do you know why?

Because you’re sexxy. Bitches.

Number 5 should have been number 1 to me…

5th Commandment: Thou shouldn’t confuse sexxy with just regular sexy.

People tend to think that when I say sexxy, I mean that I am sexy. No, when I say sexxy, I mean sexxy. Understand?

You see how I explained that without explaining shit?

6th Commandment: If people don’t get you…fuck ‘em up against the wall. Oh wait…sorry. Thou shalt if people don’t get you…fuck ‘em up against the wall.

Of course, this rebuts that whole 1st Commandment, don’t be a dickhead thing. But did you see I, Robot? Do you remember the ghosts in the machine? Me neither, however, you can’t go around trying to make people feel better about themselves by explaining yourself all the time. Do you and someobdy will get you some of the time. Nobody will never not get you all of the time…after the hurricane. Understand that the last sentence made total sense to me in my mind. Also understand that I have no idea why it did. You see, half the time, understanding your own train of thought is a full time job.

And who wants one of those.

I understand that this commandment seems slightly arrogant. And I quote:

“the fuck you expect, I’ve got a history…”

Plus, I’m sexxy. Bitches.

Are you starting to catch on yet?

7th Commandment: Thou shalt be open-minded.

Hmm, I bet you didn’t see that one coming did you. I also bet you can’t do it like this, which is a song I absofuckin’ lutely HATE. In fact, I hate D4L with the passion of the Honda Accord. (See, once again, its okay to be random and make no sense). It is important to be openminded in life period and be willing to at least LISTEN to other people’s opinions. Hell you might learn something. For instance, if I tell you that the Arctic Monkey’s album WHATEVER PEOPLE SAY I AM, THAT’s WHAT I’M NOT, is that hot shit, you shouldn’t automatically turn your nose up and say, what the fuck is that? Is that some white shit? Yes it is…and it’s great. You should at least be willing to give it a shot. That way, people won’t think that you believe you are merely sexy with one x, but sexxy with two x’s.

Come to think of it though, the mere fact that I’m telling you means that it is gospel.

What was I saying again? Oh yes, being openminded. With great sexxiness comes great responsibility. Which means that people will come to you in hopes of obtaining a mere morsel of your sexxiness. It is important to offer precise, well-thought out, unassholish advice whenever possible. However, if an asshole comes at you sideways, it is also okay to be a total asshole to them. Once again, please…fuck ‘em up against a wall.

8th Commandment: Thou shalt be cool.

You know, this one might be hard for many a boho out there. Cool isn’t something you can buy somewhere. You either got it or you don’t got it. However, I also believe that most folks have some semblance of cool, they just haven’t been able to properly harness it. I blame slavery. And yes, that goes for white people too. Non-sequiter? You betcha bottom dollar.

The majority of the aforementioned, previously stated, I done already told you, scroll up bitches, commandments are part-and-parcel to being cool. You can’t get away with any of that other shit if you aren’t a cool person by nature. In essence, somebody aside from your mother has to like you. It helps if you don’t include family period. You must find someway to not be a spazz or someway to be comfortable enough with yourself for somebody out there to say, “Hey, you know that Panama is one cool fellow.” Feel free to substitue your name for Panama in there, unless you are a one eyed one armed flying purple people eater. In which case, substitute the name Bob in there.

Also realizing that falling asleep at a table full of drunk bloggers does not remove an X from your sexxy. It merely illuminates another way for everybody else to improve on their sexxy.

Yes niggas, it is important to get sleep.

9th Commandment: Thou shalt realize that you don’t have to look sexxy to be sexxy, you have to feel sexxy.

Just let your soul glow, just let it shine thru. You know why? It’s cuz that’s all that matters.

Actually, that’s a lie. Looking like Fred Flinstone’s big toe will probably make your ascension to sexxy more difficult than you think.

However…eat well.

And finally…

10th Commandment: Thou shalt be like Panama Jackson in every conceivable way.

I’m not just sexxy, I’m the definition of it.

They call me Panama…Panama Jackson.

You now have all the knowledge you need to go forth into the world and attempt to be obtain your second “X”. Go forth with said knowledge and change the world.

And the chuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch said…yay-men.

Good night and good luck.

(You must also feel comfortable jacking pop culture for catch-phrases, slanguage, and Paris Hilton.)

Three times in three days…bitches.

I’m feeling inspired right now. Not sure how long this will last or if this is the leadup to me ultimately saying fuck the world, don’t ask me for shit…because I’ll be late for that. Ishkabibbly doody wop.

The sad part of that entire last sentence is that if I was E-40, that would have been a clear, coherent, cogent, coagulated thought. And probably would have translated to “love is in need of love today.”

Or something.

Now that we’ve got the inane introduction out of the way, let us commence.

A thought came to me yesterday while I was returning from Quizno’s after purchasing a Triple Q combo meal that eye poppingly came out to $9.88. The thought was that niggas are dumb as hell with their criminal game at times.

Non-sequitor? Definitely.

Over the past few days, I’ve been in discussions with various friends of mine at various times about sundry criminal lacktastic skills that many people have. And quite frankly, it’s disturbing. The mere fact that people run their mouths AFTER committing crimes is dumb in and of itself, but its like people want to get caught most of the time anyway. With a little more thought, you too can become a better criminal. Let us delve into how.

Panama Jackson Presents Crime Without Punishment…How To Not Get Caught Up, Dumbass

I’m going to pick a few scenarios to discuss. Some you may have heard before, others you may have never considered, others may cause you to say that Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear. You’ve been learndeded.

IAN Game (Ignore A Nigga) Game

This is one of those areas that you’d think would be simple, but for some reason, people are idiots. For instance, which is French for, for instance….say you have some chick/unchick that you are done dealing with. But they call you incessantly. Everybody’s phone has an ignore function. Right? If you hit “ignore” after the phone rings twice, they’ll know you’re ignoring the call. You either have to be quick on the trigger, or just let it ring. Kind of like letting it snow, only not the same at all. Nothing new here.

BUT…

…the dumb nigga syndrome kicks in when you KNOW that the person recognizes it’s you calling so they do what any crazy bitch (this is not gender specific here) would do. What’s that class??

*67 your ass. For those who live in uncivilized parts of the country (world), *67 blocks the outgoing number causing it to show up as either “private caller” or “unknown” on the receiver’s caller ID.

And what do you do?

Answer the gotdamn phone. Who does that? You know you’re ex is nuts…its the reason for their ex status. You know they will call you with a blocked number because they’ve done it before. Yet you answer…EVERYTIME. RIGHT after they just tried to call you and got ignored. To properly ignore a nigga, you must do exactly that, IGNORE A NIGGA.

Dumb ass.

Robbery

Humans are dumb. We want credit for everything. Which is why people will talk about the crimes they have committed. Dumb. There are 2 Simple Rules for Robbing A White Teenager or A Home (banks require more people).

1. Do it by yourself.

2. Shut the fuck up about it.

Somehow, nobody EVER follows those two rules. Niggas always want to commit crimes with their criminal friends. This is a bad idea. Do you know why it’s a bad idea? Because you can’t really trust criminals. Unless they are wealthy criminals who are doing it for sport…and usually white and run Fortune 500 companies or countries on their off weekends. Other than that, niggas will sing like Whitney if cornered and their freedom is at stake. We’d all like to believe there is honor amongst thieves…me…me no believey. There is a reason economists, and more specifically Game Theorists start off every discussion with the “Prisoner’s Dilemma”. This is the notion that if you have catch two criminals, separate them, there are 4 logical outcomes. Both will be silent, both will squeal, or one will tell and the other won’t, and vice versa. Likelihood that nobody will talk…very very low.

You’re already a criminal, why trust them? Save yourself right? You see, if you do your dirt by your lonely, you only have yourself to concern yourself with…as long as you also shut the fuck up.

Why this eludes so many people is beyond me.

Bank Robbery

Why ANYBODY would attempt this in today’s day and age of ridiculous surveillance and dye-packed money balls, etc. is beyond me.

If you must, I have no clue how to do this properly.

Little Known Panama Fact: When I was in 9th grade, a bunch of my homeboy’s were aspiring rappers, criminals, etc. Well these dummies ACTUALLY approached me (since I was the “smart” one) about drawing up plans for them to rob a local bank. I was informed that two of them said they wouldn’t go thru with it unless I was the architect. Must have been what Christopher Williams felt like in New Jack City. They never did rob that bank. About three years ago, one of these fellows DID however bungle a gas station robbery and is currently serving jail time.

Drug Dealing

I plead the 5th on this one. However, I do have some advice for aspiring drug dealers out there. If, and that’s a big if, you do manage to make some actual money doing this…don’t be so gotdamned visible. Real killers move in silence nigga. Buying cars galore while you live in the hood is not a good look. At all. Who WOULDN’T notice that? Police included. Of course, you will have to have a crew, which means that chances of having a squealer in your camp increases. Basically, you will go to jail or die eventually…but while you’re alive, the least you can do is find lucrative ways to…

Launder Money

Open a barber shop, or some business where money exchanges hands quickly and is largely cash based. When I saw Rush Hour 2 for the first time, I thought the billionaire who laundered his money through a casino was brilliant. I was actually proud of him for that.

You probably don’t have the money to do that. Landscaping is a good venture as well. Who doesn’t need their lawns manicured? The bottom line here is that you must find some way to get that money out of your hands into some venture where the money can be accounted for…quickly. As a smart criminal, this would be done. OR…move the money into offshore accounts…quickly.

And not by two Benzes. That is not money laundering. That is wearing the money. And you just might end up strip searched.

Prostitution

Just don’t do it.

There is never a good way to become a ho.

I think that is all for today. I charge you aspiring criminals, no matter how large or small the crime, to be smarter at your criminal endeavors…it is imperative.

Thank you and goodnight.