New Look | Same Great Taste

 

I sat and pondered about this post while sipping from a coke can that read the words “Dreamer” along the side of it. A lot has happened since the last time we met. I published The Book of G.A.M.E. (Getting a Major Edge) in January 2014 — which has done quite well by the way and I thank every and each one of you for the sales and support. Yes, I said “every and each.” I also experienced Africa for the first time, and then a second — traveled across the globe and proposed to the most gorgeous woman in the world — spoke to some kids — stood on a few stages to a few groups of strangers and told some stories that elicited laughter — travelled some more — and of course, bought a few new suits and hats along the way. Needless to say, time has gotten away from me. And time, whether you’re having fun or not, flies, doesn’t it? So…you might as well enjoy it. You owe it to yourself.

Life has been more than a blessing and I’ve been enjoying every second! A dear friend and brother of mine inspired me to keep the blog alive, not so much for own benefit, but to pay the inspiration forward. I took some time to get my thoughts in order and realize that I come to you now as a better, more polished man. A man in love, first of all. A man who has seen some of God’s green earth’s most necessary sights with mere dollars in his checking account. A man with no tattoos on his spirit. A more vulnerable, giving man who is more polished, self-aware, fearless and unapologetic. A man who is funny sometimes — a man who is letting his beard grow in for the first time because She likes it. A man with the edge that he spent 6 painful years writing about before the book was published. I’m excited to bring this man to you on a regular basis. I’m all in.

Thank you for continuing to support me and please do share.

Anticipate me.

~CK

 

 

 

Style – Chivalry – Grooming – Dating – Life – Love – Happiness – I cover it.

Crop the person out of choice, and place yourself in the photo.

Get the edge.

No one deserves happiness more than you!

Purchase The Book of G.A.M.E. (Getting a Major Edge) on amazon today — and eliminate your problems.
Now available for the “Look inside the book” feature.

Get Happiness in only 196 pages~

Get happiness in only 196 pages~

At last! The cure for anyone who has ever had relationship problems…

The Book of G.A.M.E. takes the game that has long been a household name – reinvents it, and makes it his own – G.A.M.E. is now an acronym for Getting a Major Edge. This is The Universal Handbook of Dating and Life that is just as relevant as it is effective. A self help/happiness/dating humor piece, it rebuilds men from scratch and gives damsels insight on what to expect from a man with edge. Covering the importance of fashion, confidence, chivalry, and many other overlooked blunders, the author, stand-up comedian, and humanitarian breaks the mold of what’s been done before and builds a much better one. Painfully honest, yet refreshing- the goods are here – with the author’s raw personal accounts spawned from travels, his entertainment career, and dating. The author is a polymath when it comes to dating & life and it shows through the pages. His fearless and avant-garde approach of courting will reshape relationships as we know it. This book is one of one. Quotes from The Book of G.A.M.E. include:

• “A damsel judges a man in the first 2 seconds based on his shoes.”
•  “There’s no cure for the insecure person”
• “Everything you want to know about a damsel, you can learn from her feet.”

Tongue-in-cheek, raw, and inventive, Charles Kellam introduces a brand new way of thinking. His interactive voice will lure you in, entertain, and enlighten you. The Book of G.A.M.E. is also funny – a powerful and refreshing dating tool that will be a conversation piece for years to come.

www.amazon.com/author/charleskellam

Get happy in 196 pages~

Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. Put the hershey’s kisses down & stop depriving yourself of happiness. Critics are raving about it.

The Book of G.A.M.E. is now available on Amazon.

The Good Hairline Years

I feel like I wasted my last good hairline years on my ex~

I remember the days when I had a dark, crispy, robust hairline that would slice one deeply if they ran their finger across it at the wrong angle. I remember it went straight across my forehead like a crew neck t-shirt; now it’s more like a v-neck.

Yet with a combination of Time, Bad Relationships, stress, and DNA, it’s not as vigorous anymore. But it doesn’t concern me. My handsome starts from within.

Ladies, you may find the same to be true in your life. You spend countless months, years, and decades with men who relentlessly consume your “Good Hairline Years.” Maybe your hair used to fall and land at the bottom of your back, and now it struggles to barely land at the bottom of your neck. Perhaps the thick, course, beautiful hair that used to drive you crazy because it was hard to manage is now thinner than it used to be…and you want it back. But knowing that you can’t get it back (naturally) drives you even crazier. Stupid Crazy, as you realize that life happens.

Yes, it does.

But this reinforces our human state, and that also, time is the most valuable resource. It’s the ONLY thing in life, other than life itself, that you cannot get back. Treat it as such.

The Good Hairline Years might be a metaphor for an even deeper emotional and spiritual urgency. Maybe you want kids, and he doesn’t. Maybe you spend too much time in the house because you’re scared to death to go out and enjoy your life after watching the news. The news is the devil. Maybe you’ve been using that Wells Fargo teller position as a “Stepping Stone” and realized that 12 years has passed by………….meanwhile, your passion to become an interior decorator has been put on the back burner. Not even on the back burner, on the foreman grill in the closet. Maybe you’re with a man, just to maintain the perception of “being with someone” and have a warm bed to enter. Meanwhile, happiness does not exist in you.

Or maybe, just maybe you lead the perfect life, have the perfect hairline, and have no need for the Book of G.A.M.E.

Or, maybe not.

Female or male, you need to understand that your beauty starts from within. Identify that and let it resonate outward. NEVER let time pass with any person, thing, or opportunity that’s not good for you.

Don’t waste your Good Hairline Years on anyone.

June 27th, 2013. ~ The Book of G.A.M.E. available at a book store near you

Pretty Girls Poop.

Please believe, that I did everything in my power to avoid this issue.

Well, almost everything. After having a deep talk with one of my dear comrades, I found it necessary.  He actually inspired the title that you hate that you love.

Pretty girls poop!

I’m not too keen on it.

I don’t like it.

And to be quite frank with you, I still don’t fully accept it.

And I know what you’re probably thinking:

“It’s 2013. Get over it!”

But I’m not over it, so I implore you to get over the fact that I’m just not over it yet.

These are my thoughts~

I put Damsels on a pedestal.  Even the ones who don’t deserve it.

I guess you can say, I’m a female chauvinist, if you will.

My Mother raised me, so she was like a God to me.

Therefore.

I look up to women.

I treasure their existence.

I admire them.

Again, even the ones who don’t deserve it.

So just the mere fact in knowing that Damsels defecate troubles me.

It humanizes them in a way that I’m not really comfortable with.

But that’s just me.

And as much as I despise this harsh reality, I realize the bigger picture.

G.A.M.E. can be improved significantly if men took the time to realize that Pretty Girls have to visit the porcelain every now and again.  Depending on how you look at it, we can turn the feces into fertilizer.  And some men just don’t see it this way yet.  That’s why I’m here…

SOAPBOX

 

Every man in the world, including myself, has seen that Damsel that was so beautiful, it made him quiver.

Made him nearly sh*t himself…at least once.  I know I have.

Why?

Because true beauty is nerve-wracking and scary.

(And by beauty, I mean whatever you perceive as such.)

When people get nervous, their bowels start doing peculiar things.

It doesn’t matter if you celebrate Ramadan, on your 9^th day of fasting; matter will find it’s way to your tail feather if you’re nervous.  Bottom line.

So back to my Soapbox…

There was a girl named Nia quite a few yesterdays ago.

Nia. Was. Everything.

She & I lived on the same street, her about 6 houses down.

I don’t know what it was about this girl that wrapped my stomach in knots when I saw her; but somehow, she was successful at it every time.

So what did I finally do?

I did what every young handsome boy with raging hormones does whenever he sees a girl he likes:

I ran.

I fled the scene immediately, like clockwork.

I would go back to the comfort of my living room and spectate her glory from the mini blinds.

This was way before the Book of G.A.M.E. even came out.

I was G.A.M.E.-less

Even my father’s continuous pep talks couldn’t get me to overcome these emotional hurdles I was hurdling…fear that she would reject me.

If I knew then

what I know now, Nia would’ve been in the bag.

Turns out that I put her on such a high pedestal, that I was unable to reach her myself. And that was my own doing.

Comrades, be confident.  Please.  A Damsel at the end of the day, is a human being at the beginning of the day.  Confidence is everything.  You need to understand that rejection is always a possibility, even for the Damsel that makes you nervous.  G.A.M.E. is a mechanism designed to help you minimize these rejections.  Never be too afraid to approach what you think may be a shot at something real.  Pedestals are for Bronze, Silver, and Gold Medalists.  But if you happen to accidentally place her up there real high…

Bring her back down!

You can simply do so by just remembering, that Pretty Girls do it too.

 

 

The Peep Toe Shoe.

I love; I respect the art of the Damsel.

I love the way they look. Love the way they smell.

The way they walk. (Especially the “Angry walk”)

Love their minds.

I love their hair.

Their bodies, their spirit.

I love the way they sound when they talk.

Yell, whisper, and moan.

I love their variation.

I love just about everything about women.

Except the Peep Toe Shoe.

The Peep Toe Shoe is the most deceptive shoe in the world.

For all who don’t know

The peep toe shoe was designed to add sex appeal to a damsel’s Shoe G.A.M.E.

It is usually a pump with a small opening that will accommodate the big toe and sometimes the second toe depending on the cut of the shoe and toe girth.

When worn by a damsel, The Peep Toe Shoe has a unique purpose:

~It affords the viewer the ability to get a glimpse of the toes

~Adds a comfort and peace of mind to the ladies who either can’t or won’t show off their whole foot (for respective reasons)

~Leaves room for the imagination

~Provides a fashionable alternative for those who are not qualified to have all ten toes exposed

I’ve found in my studies that The Peep Toe Shoe has been abused for decades.

Used for the wrong reasons.

And while they used to be all about the sexy, all they do now is raise questions that don’t always yield satisfactory responses:

“What does her toes really look like?”

“Is she hiding something in there?”

“What are those bumps protruding from the inside of the shoe?………is she a former ballet dancer?

….or maybe she’s a rock kicker on the side….”

>>>>>>>>>>Peep Toe Shoe, KICK ROCKS!!!!!!!>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

All in all, to minimize some quality control issues with dating

I think The Peep Toe Shoe should just be banned all together

The Peep Toe Shoe is a liar.

I surveyed a group of women of all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages.

Close to a hundred percent of them told me that a manicure and pedicure (“Mani/Pedi’s”) was a necessary part of their routine.

Of those women, vast majority of them informed me that the French Tip Pedicure was their most desirable design.

See: Below

(If you didn’t know what a “French Tip” was, I’m not really sure I have the means to help you )…  It’s when the nail/toe is painted clear or some other glossy color, and the tip is painted White.  Ladies have evolved in nail swagger, so they actually come in all colors now.)

Anyway, I’ve found that The Peep Toe Shoe compliments a French Tip Pedicure most splendidly

However, some damsels have the notorious French Tip design showing on the head toe

But when the shoes come off later, you realize that the rest of the toes don’t match

The big toe may have a French Tip

But when The Peep Toe comes off

You soon find out that the rest of the toes are Speaking Spanish

“Necesito Agua, Agua Por Favor!” [I need water, water please!]

“Ayudame!!” [Help me]

“Quiero lotion, Dios” [I need lotion, Dear God]

“Elote, elote! [Corn, corn!!!]

Ladies, make sure that all your toes speak the same language~

I say all this to say

That the utter and complete elimination of The Peep Toe shoe

Can build and strengthen relationships everywhere

Are they sexy? Yes.

Comfortable? Who cares.

They’re  entirely too risky.

I’d rather settle for a less-sexy but completely honest shoe.

Surprises aren’t good when it comes to the toes.

But wear what you want.  As long as you feel good.

Would you be so magnanimous to leave your thoughts about the matter?….

An insurmountable New Year to you and yours.

~B.O.G.

Ex and the City.

“After a break-up, certain street, locations, even times of day are off-limits. The city becomes a deserted battlefield, loaded with emotional landmines. You have to be very careful where you step or you could be blown to pieces.” ~Carrie Bradshaw (Sex & The City)

I’m an avid fan of “Sex & The City.” Always was. Although, I wasn’t particularly pleased with the direction they chose with the second installment of the movie. Quite frankly, I sincerely hope that they end it there; I really can’t bear to hear another over-the-top “Churchy” rendition by Jennifer Hudson. But that’s neither here nor there…

I want you to Get a Major Edge (G.A.M.E.) and I stole the quote from Carrie because I think that it has all the necessary vitamins and minerals to help you do so. Every relationship has an expiration date. It’s up to you and your mate to preserve its contents as best as you can. Just know that when that expiration date becomes today, the “emotional landmines” are coming. Look out for them. If you know where they are, you can avoid them at all costs and spare yourself the casualty. Who has time for that anyway? Life goes on and it will gladly leave you if you allow it. I now have the honor in saying that I can speak from personal experience. When my ex-damsel and I were in the apex of our relationship, ….

……..WE PAINTED THE TOWN RED (*Soapbox)

She and I did much more than watch “Sex & the City” DVDs all day.

WE. PAINTED. THE. TOWN. RED.

Literally.

For those of you who are not familiar with such idioms, it basically means that she and I did everything together.

Horseback riding in Lake Tahoe, Rode tricycles over the Golden Gate Bridge, Sinned for beads in New Orleans, Walked the dog

at the Grand Canyon, Ate some overrated Chicago-Style pizza in Chicago. We did everything together! As a couple, “boring”

would never define this. I can say that much. We kept each other on our toes. (That basically just means we were

unpredictable.) Alright, I’m being a smart-ass now. But any who, we became restaurant connoisseurs, saw where they were

going on the travel channel and booked flights there for the hell of it. You get the point. We

had fun.

But feces happened.

>>>>> FAST FORWARD A YEAR LATER >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Next thing you know, I was single in the city, broken, and with nothing to do because everything that I can possibly think of (including breathing) reminds me of things I used to do with the ex-damsel.

For months, I fought this phenomenon. Trying to escape the inevitable. Cutting out places that we used to go, ordering and cooking different dishes other than the ones she used to love. Skipping the sad love songs that I used to enjoy. I was kidding myself. A one man army in an emotional battlefield. For almost a year, I told myself that I could sever all ties with her completely. What I ended up doing naturally was depriving myself of life~ in other words, there’s a lot of things that I used to do and loved doing prior to my ex. When my ex came, I invited her into my life whole-heartedly. So the things I enjoyed, we now both enjoyed. But when my ex went, I associated those things as “our” things instead of realizing the bigger picture. Life exists before and after an Ex.

In fact, “Ex” are the first two letters of “Exist.”

I can go anywhere in the world now and be confident in my decisions. No corner of God’s green land is off limits….including: Old faves that my ex and I used to enjoy in the city. Of course, the passenger is different, and I am pleased with that. It’s as if the landmines never existed in the first place.

Keep your “Edge” and your next courtship will be a lot safer emotionally and physically. A lot more appropriate

G.A.M.E.

You have to brace the possibility that the days of you and your mate might be numbered.

If/When it does, it may feel like you’re just borrowing a small piece of land on a huge field of emotional landmines. But don’t feel that way. Embrace them as a positive. Use them as a constant reminder that your man (or damsel) was most likely leading you to disaster.

If you were blown into smithereens

you’ll still make it.

All you can do is pick yourself up piece by piece. Just be sure to build stronger next time. You can still listen to those Brian McKnight and Coldplay albums and enjoy the music for what it is. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your G.A.M.E. won’t be either. Eventually, you’ll fall in love with the city again and what it has to offer. Don’t be foolish. It’ll take time to get your city back, I know. I’m not perfect, if you can believe it. It took me a little time also. Take Salmon, for instance.

Salmon

was my ex damsel’s favorite food.

I can’t lie, I dodged salmon meals for a little while after the break up because it reminded me of her.

But now I don’t turn it down if it’s available.

I would be cuckoo to do so. Salmon is delicious.
Not to mention, packed with omega-3 fatty acids.

You have to acknowledge that there’s a plethora of other choices out there for you: Red Snapper, Barramundi, and so on. So why chase the Salmon? An old proverb from my Grandmother and as corny as it sounds, quite accurate: “There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” You go fishing and get so caught up on catching a salmon that you miss out on the Whale….the real catch. Keep your mind and heart open to receive greatness.
And don’t start getting all juicy-eyed when Brian McKnight’s “one last cry” comes on. Relax. It’s just a song.

Your comments and subscriptions are much appreciated.

G.A.M.E. is a learning community.

~

Beware of the Carpenter.

Jesus was a carpenter.

But HE was perfect.
We’re not.

Besides, I’m talking about something different…

Beware of the Carpenter

Beware of the Carpenter because carpenters “put walls up.”

They do other things, too.  But let’s lay the groundwork first.  Yes, pun intended.

Now, I’m going to break this down in the most simplest, forthright, candid, plainest, all-american ham and cheese sandwich way possible:

You ever meet a damsel/man for the first time?……

Y’all hit it off appropriately

Chemistry amazing

Love at first sight (if you believe in that)

Decide to go on a date

Date

More chemistry

Hydrogen & Oxygen

Everything felt pure like water.

But something changed.

Maybe the water flowed too heavily and in the midst of it all, someone drifted away…

You would like to see more of your date but you’re unaware that s/he has all of a sudden become preoccupied.

*Cell Phone Rings*

Man: Hello

Damsel: Hey!!!

Man: Hey (notice the absence of exclamation point usage. Meaning: lack of enthusiasm)

Damsel: I want to see you!

Man: Oh, really (take notice again..)

Damsel: Can I come over tonight?

Man: Well, I’m really tired. (It’s 6:05pm.) I still have to wrap up some files for a briefing tomorrow, go to the gym, clean the house.  By the time I do all that, I will be exhausted.  Plus, I have an early morning tomorrow.  I have to wake up at 3:30am to do my laundry, it’s expected to be crazy traffic because of daylight savings time, then it’s street cleaning so I have to move my work van.

To the damsel reading this,

That man just put a “wall” up on you.  Not only A wall, but multiple ones.  More than five even.

Wall (n.) {Wawl} ~ A stated thought or action used as a barrier by a man or damsel to passively deter or avoid unwanted company or physical companionship.

2. The cowardly approach of saying “I’m not interested.” 

3. A means of tactfully changing the subject

He is a bona fide Carpenter.

And I’m not talking about his real job.

I’m talking about his character as a person.

Always..

..look for the early warning signs while dealing with Carpenters.

Only you can determine if you have the patience to deal with hurdles and the upset.

To some degree, the chase makes it fun, yes.  It’s a natural part of the G.A.M.E.

But too many walls might only make you wish that you had some windows.

At least with windows, you can see through them, or possibly escape if necessary.

Beware of the Carpenter.
(Oh, and subscribe to this)

Honor Thy Mother

“Your mother’s the closest thing you’ll ever have next to God…”  ~Nas, God’s Son

…so treat her as such, comrade. There is no human being better qualified to lay down the foundation of your G.A.M.E. than the beautiful woman who birthed you.  Not myself. Not even James Earl Jones.  I shouldn’t even have to say this.

A mother develops a boy to adolescence, and then from adolescence to manhood. She teaches him how to treat a woman, and how to expect to be treated by a woman in return.

IF you’re a man, and you don’t respect your mother

THEN you will never fully love and appreciate another damsel. The same rules apply if you’re a lady. Just flip it: A man will never fully value and respect you if he does not value his own mother.  Stop lying to yourself if he doesn’t…please…for the community.

Ladies: notice the early warning signs and don’t ignore them.

Let’s say you’re on a first date with a young chap.  Go out of your way to ask him how his relationship with his mother is.  If he says something along the lines of…

“It’s alright ~ but we’re not gonna worry about her today”

OR

“I can’t stand her, she owes me money”   … put your red flags up!  Until proven otherwise, they stay up.

Let’s say your date coincidentally gets a phone call while you two are courting.  He looks at his phone, sucks his teeth, and says “it’s my mother.”  He excuses himself from the table, but does not walk far.  He’s standing at the perfect eavesdrop disance.  You notice his side of the conversation gets louder and louder.  Yelling, even.  Obscenities exchanged. Long story short, he ends up cursing his mother out and hanging up in her face.  He comes back to the table and smiles at you like everything is copacetic.

This is what you do, ladies:

Tell your date that your foot hurts

(The foot is a renowned diversion mechanism that somehow works every time you’re trying to get out of an unwanted situation with a guy. ie. When being asked to dance by the marsupial stalker in the club. But we’ll get to that later.)

Excuse yourself for a restroom break. Exit the venue and hail a cab ride home. Head for the hills and delete his number.  It does not get any better from here.

I’m not joking.

True love starts at home so there is no wrongdoing done by a mother that cannot be forgiven. Even if you have never met her, there should still be at least a modicum of respect for the estranged lady who put you here, comrade. The bottom line is, if you don’t Honor Thy Mother, then this blog will be…just that, a blog.  A tool to help you get rid of corny pick-up lines and teach you how to dress. So if you still have some stitching that needs to be done with the Mother, sit the can of root beer down and go make amends.  Return to these pages when you two work it out.

Without the foundation of a Mother’s love, your G.A.M.E. will NEVER pass the proper inspection, comrade.  Whatever your situation may be~ this goes for Stepmother, Foster Mother, or even Grandmother. (After all, she is your mother’s mother.)  Trust my words.

The Gorgeous Mother of Mine, I used to call by her first name “Angie” because we were always close.

She is my best friend. My bone marrow. The unfathomable or the unmentionable, I’d do it for my Mother without it being a thought.  There’s nothing in this world that I despise more than broccoli.  Steamed, raw, in a can, or doused with cheese, broccoli is pure evil.  But guess what: I’d devour a plate full for my Mother. You get it? There is nothing I would not do, if you hadn’t already gathered that. My Mother is where my G.A.M.E. all started and I am forever grateful.

Angie and I were always very close.

Probably because we’re only a few years apart.

She had me at a very young age.

Which turned out to be pretty okay because we had all the same teachers.  My Mom had all the back tests from a few semesters prior so it worked out.  I never had a problem in school!

My Mother nurtured me. She taught me right from wrong without being too strict or harsh—although the occasional face-slapping was quite effective in the ‘calm down’ process, and now that I look back, much deserved. – I never felt the urge to go out and rebel, because Angie allowed me freedom. She trusted me to know positive from negative. She did everything that she needed to do for me and she did it so seamlessly.  My Gorgeous Mother was and still is my ideal damsel, my teacher, my sister, my confidante, the closest thing I’ll ever have in this world next to God.  For that, I honor her.

Comrade, establish a strong relationship with your Mother if you haven’t already. Just know that she is where the G.A.M.E. begins. From her, You’ll Get A Major Edge with the damsels without even trying.