Recently I’ve been learning a lot of helpful, valuable life lessons, one of the biggest being that – surprise!—football really isn’t over after all, you guys!
In fact, it never really ends, ever.
No, really. It’s inescapable.
It’s omnipresent and all pervading. Once I came to grips with you men’s insatiable thirst for actual football games, then I had to figure out a way to comprehend the foreign concept of “Fantasy Football” games. (Regardless of if this is accurate or not, I automatically associate Fantasy Football with things like “World of Warcraft” and “The Sims.” I might be totally off on this assessment, but you cannot convince me otherwise. Guys, it’s not real. Aren’t real football teams enough to keep you entertained without having to make up virtual teams in your head?) And now, instead of obsessing over regular college football players, you guys are all obsessing over high school boys. I’m told it’s called “recruiting,” and that it’s a relatively normal fixation for many guys. I guess the silver lining in this is that if I’m going to have to compete for a man’s attention in some form, I’d rather be competing against an 18-year-old boy’s beefy biceps instead of a college co-ed blonde’s boobs.
Other starting lessons include these actually exist — croc flats, really? — and that Whoopi Goldberg really is, as formerly predicted, the most annoying person on the face of the planet.
But the most relevant lesson came from news of the recent Kobe and Vanessa Bryant split.
This morning, the LA Times released a story with more details of the situation, specifically that her acquisition of three Orange County properties worth an estimated $18.8 million is probably only the beginning for Vanessa.
In other words, there’s lots more where that came from.
From observing the outcome of this divorce, I found that there is a direct correlation between how many houses your cheating husband owns and how many times he’s allowed to cheat before he gets the boot.
One measly house? You’re out if I catch you looking at the TV screen while a Victoria’s Secret commercial is on. Two houses? I’ll turn a blind eye to your g-chat history with a certain “xxKrystal69xx.” (Disclaimer: I Googled “Most common stripper names,” and “Krystal” was the first on the list. My apologies to all the nice, non-skanky girls out there named Krystal who don’t g-chat with married men late at night. But, seriously…”Krystal”? You might should look into getting that changed, girlfriend.)
But three mansions? Well, it seems as though having three mansions to hand off buys you a lot of time in a deteriorating marriage.Why didn’t anybody tell me this sooner?
Here I’ve been this whole time just naively looking for a man who isn’t prone to allegedly raping other people, and completely ruling out men who think it’s acceptable to buy my love to compensate for his infidelity. It’s an endless, tireless, thankless job, always holding myself to such high standards. Plus, think about how much time I’ve wasted? Because this obviously isn’t the way to go about doing things at all. And I learned this valuable lesson from my homegirl, Vanessa Bryant. I had this epiphany when I realized what a parallel universe Nessa and I are living in: -We are both capable, independent, strong black women (for the most part).-We both had one job in high school, which was providing slutty, self-conscious tweens everywhere with the necessary tools to seduce the pimply prepubescent men in their lives. (We worked at “Forever 21” and “Bebe,” respectively.)-We both have a thing for tall, creamy, dark glasses of smooth, velvety chocolate milk. (I can’t tell if this description of black men is tantalizingly sexy or just creepily confusing, but I’m going with it).-We are both well-endowed, voluptuous femme fatales. (Shut up, I’m writing this article. When you write your OKTC article, then you can refute this.)
Did Vanessa tell her personal shopper, “I’m looking for something that will make my boobs hurt for a month.”
So, with all of our glaring similarities, I figured if it works for Vanessa, then it’ll work for me, too. Specifically in the instance of her failed marriage and the distribution of her husband’s assets in the divorce settlement.Three mansions in Newport Beach’s upscale Newport Coast community have recently been placed in Vanessa’s name, and those three properties have a total value of $18.8 million. Also, it’s been said that the couple did not have a prenuptial agreement, and if this is true, then she would be entitled to half of their community property. Some estimates put Kobe Bryant’s net worth at $150 million, and legal experts say that Vanessa will probably receive at least $75 million in addition to ongoing spousal and child support.
So, you’re telling me all I have to do is marry myself off to a muscly-armed sports player who may or may not struggle with deciding between raping or not raping someone, whine and cry about it until I receive a $4 million dollar diamond ring, sit tight and bide my time until I can jot down “irreconcilable differences” on a court document, and then decide which newly-acquired beachfront property of mine I’d prefer to eat my tuna fish sandwich in that afternoon? Am I understanding this correctly? Sure, you may argue the obvious emotionally scarring aspects of all this; yes, divorce mercilessly rips apart families and yes, it can leave both parties broken and scorned. But, and I’m asking this earnestly, is $75 million enough of a Band-Aid to patch up the wounds and valiantly move onward and upwards?
I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who’d say yes. Especially if they got to star in “Basketball Wives” after the divorce. I mean, who among us hasn’t dreamed of having champagne poured on the top of their head by a groupie with a multitude of STD’s while an audience of millions gripes about how trashy our heels are?
The truth of the matter is, long before any of this drama, things obviously hadn’t been rosy for these two. There were indubitably lots of issues within this marriage to begin with, even before the alleged infidelity—why else would he stray? (And by stray, I mean, rape someone.) So might as well cut your losses sooner than later, divorce your two-timing basketball star husband, and immediately begin collecting your mansions, right?
The real question here is, what percentage of women out there would’ve married Kobe for less– way less? Do the ends outweigh the means in this case? Vanessa has no doubt been through a lot, but now she has money, notoriety, the favor of the general public, a new clean slate, and the opportunity to get back out there and meet the real man of her dreams—a man who may struggle with the temptation to ogle an aspiring 18-year-old football player’s burly pectorals, but would never be tempted by another woman.
Now that’s my kind of man.