Boo ...

Suga ...

Honey ...

Babe ...

Whatever floats your boat, but calling your significant other or jumpoff a nickname is pretty common.

Until Usher decided to release a song with a familiar title " Daddy's Home" ... once that hit the airwaves, it seems like some folks lost their minds! Actually this goes back a little further because I have been all kinds of uncomfortable ever since I heard a 17-year-old Jermaine Jackson croon "Daddy's Home" ... and without laying the blame on just those two, there are plenty of other artists who have put that same message out into the universe.

So clearly, this has been going on for years and passed on generation to generation. It's a sign that folks are on some other ish right now.

What you mean Meik?

I'm glad you asked. I met a guy, we exchanged numbers. And I'm awful with names, so I ask him for his name again so I can put it into my phone; he replies: "You can call me just call me 'Daddy.'"

Really now? (As I "side eye" him and delete the number from my phone.)

When did it become socially acceptable to refer to each other as "Mama" and "Daddy" if you didn't participate in conceiving or raising each other?

What does that say about the men who want to be referred to as a parental unit, especially in the throes of passion (I've always wanted to use that phrase now I can, but I digress ...) and what does that say about the women who go along with it? Does this mean there are some underlying issues? Wel,l I'm not a psychologist so I don't know ... I just blog.

Before you go pointing the fingers at me — and I know if you follow me on twitter (@mofochronicles shameless plug!) you've noticed that I have tweeted with friends calling them "Daddy," simply because its funny that some females actually do it and mean it! I'm simply being snarky sarcastic.

I personally have a father who would probably wring my f'in neck if he remotely even heard me call a man that I'm dating "Daddy." I just find it odd to use that as a term of endearment when that's a title reserved for the man who gives me unconditional love and has raised me to become the smart-ass I am today. (Thanks Dad!)

For some, maybe it's the thrill of calling someone else Daddy. Hell, I don't know. Or maybe they are looking for someone to take control and have some sort of power over them. Or maybe there's just nothing wrong with it at all (Side eye blink. Blink.)

I challenge you men out there to think about this: The next time you ask a female to call you "Daddy," imagine if it was your daughter calling another man that. Lemme know how that works out for you. I'll wait.

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Remember this: hopscotch, red light green light, kickball, dodge ball, hide-n-seek, and even red rover?

Well, if you don't you should, since most of that ish has just been made current by mofos who call themselves adults. What you mean Meik?

I'm glad you asked, allow me to explain. Let's examine a couple of scenarios shall we?

Scenario 1: Boy has a girlfriend, starts a new job. Boy meets a friendly girl that's willing to show him around and even invites him out to a party as coworkers; however, boy takes it upon himself to throw himself, tongue and all, up on girl leaving her dazed and confused and pretty much disgusted.

Boy then doesn't seem to take the "not interested" speech well and continues to try to force himself upon her ... meanwhile, hitting on other coworkers, women online, and in general all while poor lil' girlfriend has no clue and moves clear across the country all in the name of love.

Scenario 2: Boy and girl are "talking" if you will, and someone points out to girl that on a social networking site there are several pictures of boy boo'd up with another girl. But when asked about it, boy tells girl it's his sister, his best friend, blah blah blah. But girl notices that there are just way too many boo'd up pictures for it just to be a friendly thing. But boy takes it a step further: He makes plans with girl for Valentine's Day only to get missing and to never be heard from again.

Scenario 3: Boy tells girl she should give men a break and not be so hard on them since there are a lot of women in the Queen City and its impossible for a man to settle down. Then boy proceeds to proposition girl to see if she's okay with just being a jump-off.

I'll give you a moment to blink on each of these scenarios.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

OK. I say all that to say: GAME PLAYING IS FOR KIDS.

Clearly, nowadays some mofos would rather drag someone's feelings through hell and high water instead of just being honest from the get go.

In each of the scenarios, it boils down to one thing: greedy mofos playing the field.

From my point of view, it's an ego thing. It’s almost as if their self-esteem is at an all time low, so the best way to feed it is to stir up mess and run through as many folks as possible. But, in the end, who's left looking like "Boo Boo the Fool"?

The only solution is a simple one: If you are looking for a jump-off, say so.

If you are simply just not interested in a romantic relationship, say so. If you just aren't into that person and wish they'd die a slow painful death, say so.

I don't know if you've met, but Karma is certainly one bitch you don't want to munk with.

Have you ever had a taste of something so fantabulous that it becomes a craving or borderline an obsession?

I'm talking about it's so dang good, it'll have you doing some of the craziest things.

Take a trip with me down memory lane.

Once upon a time, a neighbor of mine was seeing a woman. My guess is she put it on him because she had this brother dressed in all black, hiding in the bushes, just so he could make sure she wasn't giving his pineapple cream pie away (if you are still lost as to what I’m talking about refer back to The Bakery is Closed blog please and thanks).

I said all that to say one more time, you know what I'm talking about if you get some "good good" that'll have you speaking tongues.

You know you've had a taste of it when: (come on now, ya'll know I love making lists)

1. Good Good will have you doing drive-by's in the damn middle of the night, nightgown, pink rollers, SpongeBob slippers and all. Just hoping to catch a mofo slippin'.

2. Good Good will have you to somehow manage (with some manipulation, I'm sure) to get a hold of the email password, text messages, voicemail password, and anything else that would require you listening or reading to make sure that mofo isn't giving away that good good to someone else.

3. Good Good will have you doing crazy ish like sitting outside a mofos job just hoping to get a glimpse of what you plan on getting into later, or making sure nobody else is getting it.

4. Good Good will make you pay a mofo's bills, car note, mortgage, child support, hell alimony.

5. Good Good will make you put all your close friends on the back burner, because you think you have found that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

6. Good Good will have you having involuntary flashback spasms while on the job and your coworkers looking at you like you need to be collecting a check for being crazy.

7. Good Good will have you walking around smiling and being overly friendly, even if your car got towed, you had a flat tire, lost your last dollar in the vending machine, or tore a hole in your new outfit.

8. Good Good will have you plotting and scheming just like a crack head just for one more hit ( I know you have heard Jodeci's jam Feenin — nuff said).

9. Good Good will have you forget you even have a job, it's so good, you just want to stay boo'd up, not caring if the lights, water and lawd forbid, the cable gets shut off.

10. Good Good will have you social network stalking. Trying to see who poked your boo, who said hello, who wished them a happy birthday, or even dare told them their photos were cute. Then you start over analyzing but that's a whole 'nother blog in itself that I don't have time to go into today.

The lesson here is just because its good good doesn't always mean its good for you. If you have to do all this crazy acting ish, then chances are the good good is probably bad. Either way, screen it and if it don't smell right it's probably rotten as hell.

I don't know about ya'll, but 2009 has been one of those years that I won't miss — not one bit. Matter of fact, the entire decade can go to hell in a handbasket, but that's a whole 'nother blog. I thought with the spirit of 2009 finally kicking rocks, it's only fitting to do some reflection, stroll down memory lane and recap the lessons that I hoped you learned, cursed at, laughed at, or even attempted to implement this year..

Plus..you know I just love making lists ... so here we go:

5. I sure hope some of you learned how to MINGLE when out at social events ... but as we near the end of the year, and judging by what I've seen this month ... Imma go with "no." Just remember to ditch the security blanket called your clique once you enter a social event. Hell, you never know who you might meet.

4. Before heading out to any event, just because it's called "Grown and Sexy" does not mean show up with your ASSets hanging out. Instead it’s a state of mind; just up your swag game and get your party on! Unless the party calls for you wearing your lingerie, leave the ish at home for your after-the-party booty call. Let these fellas have the opportunity to imagine what you are working with.

3. If you do meet someone — whether its online, at the gas station, grocery store, or even on the light rail — make sure you take the appropriate steps. Let's review: Screen that mofo. And if you decide to meet up, stay alert, and always notify someone of where you are going. Mace is your best friend!

2. Do what you say you gonna damn do. If you aren't interested in someone, man up and say so, rather than stringing them along. The best advice I could ever give is treat a person how you want to be treated. If you would prefer someone to play games and make you figure out if they are or are not interested, then fine, do what you do; however, rather than waste someone’s time, the best approach is to just say (in a nice way of course) that you just aren’t compatible and move the hell on.

1. The approach is everything. Fellas, if you are wondering why you can't find a good woman, take a step back and look at HOW you are approaching us, asking for the goodies right off the bat.  Would you want your mother, sister, cousin, or even daughter to drop the panties for lame lines like that? No, I think not. You’d want them to keep the bakery locked up tight with the key in a safe until the time is right.

Ladies, we as women deserve to be celebrated rather than treated like an old stale lemon cake that these men get a taste of and then throw away.  If men want to satisfy their sweet tooth without handling their biz the correct way, then politely remind them: They have two good hands, use them.

That about sums it up. In 2010 fam, let's vow to do better. Happy New Year!

Boy meets girl. Boy invites girl over to his house. Girl goes over there and is never heard from again.

Sadly, this scenario occurs most often than not, and most recently in the news with one of the mofos of the year in Cleveland, Ohio.

Oh come on now, if you haven't been getting your daily dose of CNN, then I suggest you run to the nearest TV: but here's a Meik version recap, pay attention this is gonna go fast:

An ex marine, convicted rapist/sex offender lures 11 (or more) women to his crib, kills them all, buries them in and around the house like they are nothing but pieces of home decor.

Caught up now? Good. Let's proceed.

I get that it's cute and gives you the sniggles when you meet a new Romeo or Juliet and you click, sparks are flying everywhere and all you want to do is spend time with them.

Now, that's all fine and good, but with the way folks are raising crazy mofos like farmers are growing veggies and ish, you gotta be careful with who you spend time with. I spoke it on it before and all I can do is hope you go back and read the blog called Screening is Essential.

Now, Meik is one cautious chick, granted I think everyone and their mammy is crazy until proven otherwise, but until I've had the chance to screen you, there will be NO visiting the house; mine or yours mmk?!

And as for buying me a drink? You got a sista munked up if you think I'm sending you to the bar ALONE to get me a Bacardi and sprite — date rape drug — HELLO??!!!

Going back to the case of the crazy mofo in Cleveland, I, for the life of me cannot understand how or why even women under the influence of crack, alcohol, or any damn thing could remotely listen to his ass and follow him back to his house. Has anyone seen what he looks like?! Granted looks aren't everything but come on, really?! Further more, I'm not understanding how his small ass (stench and all, because you know that house was funkier than hell and I'm almost positive the smell was coming out his nasty lil pores, but I digress) but I'm not getting why on first sniff, these women didn't run like hell or try to drown his ass in some soap and water.

Again, I digress, clearly this case has struck a nerve and a half with me.

But if you just HAVE TO please remember the following important things if you don't listen to shit else I ever say or read another word I write:

1. Always tell someone where you are going, and if you have no friends or fam to speak of, keep your cell phone handy to call 911.

2. Just like my grandma told me, I'm telling ya'll — Never leave home without your best friend: MACE.

3. If you just have to go to the person's house. Don't go alone, take someone with you. However, I just wanna know what happened to meeting folks in public places when you haven't known each other very long? Did that go out in 2008?

4. Google is another good friend, and hell nowdays so is all the social networking sites, you know someone is gonna know his/her crazy ass. Do your research ahead of time so you don't get caught up in no crazy situations.

5. This one is just for future reference: if you go to a mofos house and it smells rotten as hell in there oh let's say like decomposing bodies. It probably ain't the damn trash that stinks — that mofo probably been up to no good — don't you watch Lifetime Movie Network?!

Lesson Learned: Stay alert, and always notify someone of where you are going. But if all else fails, kick that mofo where the sun don't shine and RUN! Be safe out there fam!

With the tragic death of NFL great Steve McNair not too long ago, many questions, comments, eyerolls, and folks looking at their own boo pieces with the side eye have come up.

McNair's mistake, as with many, was cheating — and not screening that heffa, but I digress.

Some of you may even be questioning, "Where do I stand with my own mofo in my life?"

Don't you worry. I'm here to help.

Let's take a closer look at the definition of a "jumpoff."

A jumpoff is NOT the main boo, and is just around for sexual purposes.

I think that about sums it up.

Now let's run down my list of ways to figure out if you indeed are JUST THE JUMPOFF:

1. You have low self-esteem (or maybe you haven't figured out that you do), but yet you think you're doing big ish. Lemme explain: You think just because you might get a water bill paid, or even your gas tank filled, and if you're real good, you might get a trip thrown in there. Bottom line is you THINK you are big ish poppin' cuz wifey/hubby ain't doing their job. ***side eye*** Allow me to inform you of something: Wifey/hubby is always gonna be numero uno ... you will always come towards the bottom of the list. But if you like it, hey, do you boo.

2. You only have the cell number. I'm just saying if you were the main boo boo, you'd have all the numbers ... right? I mean, the house number, work number, any other dang number that exists. And if you get a sec, take a peek in his/her cell; you'll probably find tons of other jumpoff's numbers in there.

3. You only get a call every now and then, when the main boo is acting up. Meaning, you might get a call, maybe three to four times a month.

4. If you've heard this bullshit line "I'm waiting on the right time to tell my wife/hubby about us." Riiiiiiiiight. And I'm Michael Jackson's love child.

5. If you never go anywhere together in public, like cute little dates such as dinner and the movies, or wine tastings. The only places you see are the ceiling, the bed, floor, shower, elevator, kitchen table, or wherever you handle your business. Hmm chances are ... you are the jumpoff.

Now, a successful jumpoff NEVER has any expectations. It is just about the sex . There are no gifts, trips, bills being paid, none of that — just sex. A jumpoff never asks questions, doesn't stalk other potential jumpoffs, and probably has enough jumpoffs of their own so they aren't worried about any of 'em.

Lesson Learned: If you fall into all of the categories mentioned, and you are OK with being in that role and have no intention of taking things further, then hooray for you. You win the "successful jumpoff award." BUT if you fall into the categories mentioned, and you have hopes and dreams of moving up to wifey/hubby status, then you might need to take the scissors and cut off the chain this mofo has you dangling from and move on. Love and respect yourself and realize that you deserve to be happy and maybe this person just isn't the one for you.

Have you ever just had one of those days where nothing seems to go right?

Car runs out of gas on I-77 during rush hour traffic; you spill your red Kool-Aid (yes i said red) all over your new white shirt; your hands are ashy; you come home to find out the lights and water have been cut off because you forgot to pay the bill; and you just got laid off.

Ah yes, the joys of everyday life in the Queen City.

So you pray, fast, meditate, scream, cry, and shout, send out a few tweets ... then on last impulse ... you turn to your group of friends — or with the new Twitter/Facebook craze, you turn to 1,000 of your closest friends.

What to do???

Well, I'm sure everyone knows someone who thinks they know the answer to everything — whether it’s male or female — their answer for EVERYTHING is always the same:

Call the "problem solver"!

Who is that Meik?

Well, lo and behold, it's a bird, it's a plane, no wait, it's Captain Save-A-Hoe's lil brother Captain Long Stroke or his sister Princess Puss in (thigh-hi) Boots.

Their specialty?

Yep, you got it: Sex you down — problem solved.

Now, I don't know about you my dear Creative Loafing readers, but if I tell you that my eyeball just fell out into my hand, a mofo better not fix their lips to tell me that sex is going to solve that. Instead, I'm gonna need someone to call 9-1-1 or drive a sista to the hospital! Let me get my shit re-attached before you have someone getting their freak on!

It amazes me how sex has relaxed beyond i’s "casual" means. Don't get me wrong, sex is a beautiful thing, but come on, can it really solve the fact that coolant is leaking from the car and onto the driveway?

Well, on second thought, if you play that gold-digger card it just might get it fixed. But I digress (see previous blog on I ain't calling you a gold digger).

At what point in our lives is it time to realize that the "problem solvers" can't actually SOLVE the problem? All it does is makes you forget for a little while, it's purpose is to throw a Band-Aid on it and become a TEMPORARY solution over the real problem.

My advice?

I always follow the rules of the corporate world: business before pleasure.

If you handle your business, things can be solved. Then afterwards, if you wanna call the problem solver to clear out the cob webs, then do you boo!