Don't Get It Twisted

Good Afternoon, Sirs. Its a brilliantly warm day here in Brooklyn and since our "font issue" has overwhelmed us in full, we decided to post a video and show our city a little love. Enjoy...

Our Apologies

Sirs, we are having MUCH trouble with our
font sizing. We'd like to blame it on our web surgeon, but
she's too smart to be held responsible.

Its a blip all our own and we're working to figure it out.

Cheers and Tears.
The Swills

Yes You Can.

Its sad but true that we promised not to "blog" until this site was as beautiful as a young pageant queen, but moments like this keep dragging us back. Our apologies upfront.

Anyway, our boyfriend Kanye has gone and done it again. See, we've been reading rumors that he has exfoliated his ego to reveal a fresher, more humble glow but we never could have dreamed of this. I mean, the above photo is of a most astonishingly confident man and we sit behind our computer screens more in love with him than ever. Now, if you Sirs would take a moment and reflect:


See, its not that we don't want to support our boyfriend for his expressive style, but what we see above is simply a man in a shiny jacket and nothing more. It doesn't speak to his sexuality (sorry everyone, we believe he's straight...) and it doesn't even make him look silly - its just a show piece and true gentleman should tread lightly when deciding how to stand out.

For instance, its not as if wearing primary colors each day doesn't look ok, because well, everyone likes the McDonald's sign, I mean its universally nostalgic. But when deciding on which man to take seriously most women don't go for the man with the newest chain and brightest T. Most women go for the man who looks most confident and nothing about looking like a 17 year old showoff spells confidence.

So again, beautiful Sir. Nice style revolution. You have gone and impressed the jaded likes of the naughty little Swills and we thank you for it. Beyond a good vintage brandy nothing makes the blood as warm as a man with style.

Cheers to your new found humility. Its dashing.

The Presidents of your fan club,
The Swills

The Side Hustle of Black Market Marriage

A while back our fearless leader Bee was back home visiting a handful of her girlfriends when amid an evening of blunt smoke and Hennessy she learned that one her near and dears was (gasp) married! Now, truth be told crazy behavior has never been lost on their tightly knit group of femme fetals, but a shot gun marriage is certainly rare around these parts... to say the least. So when the facts of this union began to emerge there wasn't enough liquor in the
room to make it seem real. So when Bee sobered up from "Cigars and Henny" night she put pen to paper and begged for details of this black market marriage.

Note: Now, clearly she wants to remain anonymous so for this piece we'll call our blushing bride, "Ivanka" (another vixen with an penchant for matrimonial financial gain...)

The Irregular Swill: "How the hell did his happen? I mean, excuse me for my approach, but really, how did this even happen?"

Ivanka: "The reason I decided to do this a few years ago is that I was desperate and needed money and one of my friends asked me - oh yea, you should know that nearly all of my friends are married.."

IS: " - Um, except me, of course."

I: "Yea. Except you. But I mean, like, all of them are married to Africans."

IS: "Ok..."

I: "But yea. One of them came to me with the proposition. And I thought at the time that it was my only option. So she introduced me to an African looking to get married and pay me some cash."

IS: "How did she find him?"

I: "I really don't know. I mean honestly, her mother's married to an African too - so she's the one who came to my friend about it. But how did she find him? I really dunno."

IS: "Well, what's your husband's name?"

I: "No. No names. Well, lets call him Henry." (giggles)

IS: "What was the initial conversation like?"

I: "I mean, we talked and basically it was all about business. We spoke about the arrangements, what was going to be done. We basically just got to know each other. We spent from about 5pm - 10pm together. Then we met up the next day."

"Ivanka's" roommate enters the room and adds, "And I had to take them places and take pictures of them so they would look married - that was weird." Both women burst into relentless laughter.

IS: "So you went and took photos with him around the city? How many did you take? How many shots did you think would prove your love for each other?"

I: "10- 15 in each place. But we did it again at a friend's house - as if I was cooking dinner, etc. I would change my outfit mad times too."

IS: "How long were you 'dating' before you were 'married'?"

I: "Maybe like three weeks or something."

IS: "What was the "courting" process like?"

I: "We went out to eat - oh yea and we opened a joint bank account. I don't know, we just kicked it really."

IS: "How did the discussion of money come about?"

I: "We discussed it during our first meeting - that was off rip though. I mean, fuck that. I was just like - well, I mean some people get like 25,000 dollars, but I only needed 1,500 so I was like, 'I need 3,500 to do this,' and he agreed."

IS: "And so he just handed it to you?"

I: "He gave me 2 g's at the wedding and then gave me 1,500 later. And when we get a divorce I get 1,500 more as a thank you. But we have to do mad shit together - like file taxes and shit. It sucks, yo."

IS: "lets go back a bit. How did the interview for his green card go?"

I: "well, I don't even know if he got it yet. But we had to go to the immigration office and they asked me questions like, 'whats his mother's name?' and shit. We were denied the first time. That stupid mother fucker never told me his mother had died so when the interview lady asked when I had spoken to her last I said 'last week.' Clearly we didn't pass that time."

IS: "What was the ceremony like?"

I: "I only had one friend there, but he had like three. We just went right to the justice of the peace and we got married. He got me a ring and everything."

IS: "what did the ring look like and what did you wear?"

I: "The ring was some dinky silver band and I had on a dress - not a flowy wedding gown, just a fitted dress and some black heels. The cardigan was a peach color and the dress was black and the heels were black."

IS: "Did any part of you do this for any socially conscious reasons? Did you ever feel like you were helping someone gain access to the life they truly wanted?"

I: "I mean, a part of me yea. Certainly. Part of me thought, well, you know, if he's willing to marry someone to better his life, but really its like, am I even helping? He could be anyone for all I know. A killer. And I honestly wish I never even did it. I was the biggest mistake of my whole life. I hate that I did this shit."

IS: "Why do you regret it so much?"

I: "Because I feel like, damn. Its such a hassle."

IS: "well, I know your current boyfriend is also married to a Ghanaian woman too. Tell me a bit about the moment you discovered that."

I: "My boyfriend and I were chilling the whole day but my husband's sister kept calling to give me money. I wasn't answering my phone because I didn't want my boyfriend to find out I was married. But after a while I just said fuck it and told him. I said, 'yo. I'm married to an African." He asked me if I married him for money and when I said yes he told me that he was married too. I couldn't believe it and told him to call his wife right then and he did it! But he had been in the same situation. He needed money too."

IS: "Damn. And later he told you his mother was married to an African too, no?"

I: "Yea. he said his mother was married. Shit, she's the one who put him on."

IS: "So you would argue that this is a thriving business?"

I: "I think it was at one point. About two or three years ago it was booming. But now immigration has different laws I guess. I mean, it still goes on now though."

IS: "Well, when do you plan to get your divorce?"

I: "Shit, I want to do it now. But honestly I kinda feel stuck. I have to wait on him - but I haven't seen him in over a year so anything could happen. But yea. I regret it. But I needed money. What can you do?"

Food For Thought...

So as we (im)patiently wait for our ingenious web Dr. to botox our site, we've been stocking up on content for you and a few weeks back we came across the above image of our boyfriend Kanye and his lady love "Amber Rose." Now, if you remember our original post concerning Ms. Rose (and the subsequent apology we offered) you'll remember that we originally wrote her off as, well, slightly trashy. I mean, its somewhat obvious that not many woman can pull off the "full-frontal spread Eagle" she mastered in Smooth Mag (image at right).

But beyond our sour introduction, perhaps she is somewhat refined after all? Perhaps we were wrong all along and the Louis Vuitton advertisement above shows the real amber - or maybe Kanye has rubbed off on her and she's a "full frontal" reflection of him now, complete with ARGRESSIVELY sexy ad's like this.

See, beyond how adorably innocent and loving this smart advertisement shows Ms. Rose to be, it begs the question:

In time, does EVERYONE eventually take on their lover's image? Is an Amber-like makeover a famous-relationship birthright or do transformations like this plague us all and does taking on a new lover mean ultimately shedding
your own image?

For Instance:

One of our own knows a woman we'll call, "Losty Lucy." Well, by many standards Losty was a woman in charge - and still is. She recently purchased a new condo, has a job she was promoted within quickly and she's cute - some might argue that she's full-on pretty. However, whenever Losty took on a new lover her personality followed shortly.

1. When dating the neo-soul 5 Percenter guy she grew out her perm and started reading the likes of "The Miseducation of the Negro," when before she would tote around self-help novels and inspirational reads like "The Secret."

2. When she started dating the political-minded law student with Barack Obama dreams she ditched the long sun dresses and started wearing sweater sets with David Yerman jewelry.

3. When she finally rounded out to the weed smoking artist-type she went vegetarian soon after.

And while the examples above are particular to one vacant woman we've known, there a multiple people out there suffering the same fate.

Moral: If you ever find yourself hunting for someone to "change" just turn to your bathroom mirror. Wipe away the steam from mirror and take a LONG look at YOU. Change is always possible but it starts with yourself. Nobody should make you change. Nobody should make you forget who you are and above all, nobody else should make you go Vegan. So tread lightly sirs as you attempt to find your lady loves. After all, love doesn't hesitate and love doesn't judge. If you want your lover to change who they are you never loved your lover to begin with.

Footnote:

1. There is NOTHING wrong with reading "The Miseducation of the Negro" - especially since so few people know their own history, but really? Everyone who gave a damn read it at age 8 - so carrying it around as a show piece makes you look a DAMN fool and reading it should be done behind closed doors. I mean, really. Move on to Assata for public praise.

2. David Yerman. There isn't MUCH wrong with David Yerman either - if you live in the Mid West. See, wearing David Yerman is like having acrylic nails - if you live outside of Orange County (and you aren't Gwen Stefani) DO NOT rock them. They're unequivocally trashy.

3. Be Yourself. Its just better that way.

ask us anything or tell us your thoughts...

Well, we've received our first comment from "Sam" and we couldn't be happier. In fact, it highlighted the fact that perhaps we should communicate more. With that said we invite you to send questions, comments, concerns or, well, whatever you wish (we even accept rudeness, sirs) so for the time being, please send all inquires to 

 Ladyswill@gmail.com 

and we'll get back to you as soon as possible. If we love your question, comment or concern we'll write back and ask your permission to display it on our site, with our answer in tow. 

As always we aim to please, so please help us refine our mission as actively as possible, sirs and send us your thoughts. 

That said, We are also accepting submissions to be a part of our first "focus group"where we will supply a select group of men to help shape the future of our site. We have several young men in mind, but the more responses we get from you the more well rounded our results will inevitably be. 

Thanks for your time, Sirs. 

Hope to hear from you soon.

Hi Sam! 

The Swills. 

Hello! Well, as you might have noticed we've been flirting with various new templates and we apologize for the recent aesthetic confusion. But! We have just found the exactly right person to complete our "re-vamp," though in the between time we will be taking a few weeks off. However, we have some very snappy new contributing writers and we're thrilled about several new interviews we've conducted! We hope you'll hang in there with us as we scower New York City for more fun information to bring you.

Cheers,
The Swills (newbies included!)

Hunger.

Steve McQueen
Representing Britain at the Venice Biennial

Quite recently Steve McQueen became the artist to know. He currently has a two page spread in the March issue of W Magazine and is poised to represent Britain at the Venice Biennial. Showing what, you ask? Well, he's not saying. Why? Because he might just be the coolest motherfucker on the planet.

McQueen, whose onslaught of recent accolades are based on a his First Feature film entitled Hunger, has certainly had a rather meaty career. He was an official war artist in Iraq in 2003 (the resulting work, Queen and Country is currently showing at the Barbican in London), he won both the Camera d’Or and an International Film Critics Federation Prize at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival and we're positive if we listen closely we'll find that he walks to the soundtrack of "Put On (for my city)" by Young Jeezy, Ft. Kanye (the song widely rumored to be Michael Phelps' warm up music during the Olympic Games... we'er just saying...).

See, Steve McQueen is a little bit Spike (he not only dropped out of the Director's famed Alma mater, Tisch School for the Arts in NYC, but he also appears in many of his own films) and a little bit Kanye, (the drumb beat of police batons in Hunger is so percise and rythmic it hints at the familiar sound of the African Drummer's base lines heard West's hit "Love Locked Down."-skip to approx 1:03 on the youtube link to hear the drum line). He sites Andy Warhol's films as some of his prominent influences and he might be the only artist alive who said he didn't "give a shit" about the currently failing art market when questioned by W writer Christopher Bagley. When asked about the shaky state of the art market McQueen says cooly,

"I don't give a shit. I don't care. If I was thinking about money when I make something I possibly wouldn't make it."

to read the rest of this article please pick up the March issue of W Magazines. Article pages 224-226

But that's the thing about McQueen, he cares enough to absolutely not care at all. His work, comprised of numerous social and political critiques, speak for themselves. He needn't say anything more at all. In the words of James Rondeau, "There are the same tensions between silence and language, motion and stillness... The same vocabulary of possibilities. And while Steve seems to be taking a dispassionate stance, he's very quietly advancing sophisticated political thinking about an issue..." and simply put, we couldn't agree more. It's about time a man learned to use silence as communication. Now rush off and down load youtube snippets of Hunger. Stat.


Afterthought: Thank you McQueen for giving us something to look forward to in the way of black film (cough).

We get it. You're not gay.

OK guys. We weren't going to address this so early in your education, but we had a mini crisis at dinner tonight when we heard the man at the table to our left say the confusing and absolutely unnecessary phrase, "no homo" to his friend. And while we had no clue what prompted this nonsense it really became irrelevant. Who cares what prompted it? Its just sounds god awful and in the close quarters of a New York City restaurant its equally impossible to ignore. So when we came home, locked in a debate about publishing this post, we took to the web and found this.

(time lapse)

Fine. We were laughing too, but really, come on. The "I'm not gay" campaign inadvertently does more to actually pronounce your sexual wavering than you realize. For instance, do you remember when you were a child and would sneak a cookie after dinner and your mother would catch you? What would you say, "I didn't take the cookie! I promise!" Well, need we say more? We think not. I mean really, Jewelz Sanatana is the scholar who coined the term, which then begs the question, "do you truly want to identify with a man whose mental prowess gave his listening fans this gem?" :

[Chorus:]
Put my emotions aside (why?)
Cause they can never take my alive (no)
I’m a ride (I’m a ride)
And don’t cry (don’t cry)
Cause Momma raised her up a thug (I’m a thug)
And if I’m standing in front of the judge
Guess what?
He can never take me alive (no)
I’m a ride (I’m a ride)
And don’t cry (don’t cry)
Cause Momma raised hell of a thug (I’m a thug)
And if I’m standing in front of the judge..

And don't get us wrong - at 16 thugs were hard to beat. The aggressive bandanna's that hinted at a possible gang affiliation, the low slung jeans showing just the perfect smidge of disrespect that kept our parents monitoring our phone conversations and of course the filthy language that made us all believe the eventual sex would be equally as provocative as his tendency to say, "fuck" so easily. Ah yes. The thug has certainly had his day. But I mean, damn. Come on. Its time to grow up. If we were you we would be taking notes from Kris Van Assche's "new masculinity" and asking where I can cop those shoes...

PSA: FOOLS RUSH IN

So today was a toss-up. "To post or not to post" this article was a terse ten minute back-and-forth concerning responsible content - but for now, while there is still a very select group of you esteemed emerging gentlemen actually following our "blog" (three to be exact) it was given a "yay" and here we are to offer our thoughts.

Scene: We were shopping on Prince, getting an idea of what made it off the runway and into our favorite NYC shops when two young men strode in and immediately struck up a conversation about waiting on their "licenses" to clear so they could finally purchase their guns. They were hot with anticipation and bothered by the wait. They were eager in their speech and fidgety with their hands. Not the type of kids you want operating heavy machinery on the street this (economically destitute) summer, is it? Hell no.
Note: the two young men were white and wearing fitted caps to the side. We wanted to highlight that...

Guns are damn amazing. The craftsmanship, the power they wield, the decisive moment they present... the light bouncing off the shaft... They are amazing. However, as T.I readies himself to take full responsibility for his war-zone car-trunk fiasco, we bring you this:

RESPONSIBILITY.

Owning a gun requires you to implement the lost art of restraint. Its like bringing home a g-sting clad woman, sitting her down on your couch and then being forced to make polite conversation when all you really want to do is remove her nipple covers and fuck. As aggressive as that might sound its unabashedly true.

Owning a gun should be looked on as an art all its own. A responsibility greater than having a child and an undertaking far more complex than understanding Niche. Owning a gun is literally a life or death situation and we want you to be armed with intellect before you allow your "sunglasses at night" stardom fantasy to become a "T.I" like G.I Joe experience.

1. In New York City you have to wait 6 moths to legally obtain a handgun. That is the exact same time period pre-op transvestites are forced to undergo therapy to ensure they want their new genitalia. Direct correlation? Not a hint, but it serves to show that owning a gun is as serious as snipping off your penis. That alone should make you think.

2. Just because your friend showed you his does NOT mean you should turn around and show him yours. Guns breed tremendous interest and to own one should not be the "hot topic" of conversation. Its not a phallic symbol its a protective measure and nobody needs to know what "your packing."

3. Don't carry it around. Who was that dumb football player who shot himself in the foot recently? Right, him. Take a note from his career suspension and his hospital bill and keep yours home for "ladies night" cocktails.

4. Size matters. Don't play yourself like a fool and arm yourself with rifles that will liken you to a terrorist. Its unnecessary. Period. And while many people might argue all guns are just that, unnecessary, we are addressing the "reality-based" readers who fully understand that to address this issue is not to encourage, but to offer the issue some tailored thought. If T.I had a .9 he would have gotten a pass. Believe us.

5. LIFE IS NOT A WAR.
If you've read this far you are certainly interested in the art of warfare, but we truly want to truly remind you that you NEVER need a gun. Ever. If you do the Army will provide you many an option to shoot responsibly - and then assert they'll pay for college right after. Who knows if the latter is true or not (seen a homeless VET today, Sirs?) the point still stands: join the army and shoot away. If not? Opt out. Nobody likes it when the summer block party is broken up by some asshole with a new gun. Be responsible sirs. We need you around to keep reading our blog.

Cheers,
The Swills.