Friday, December 30, 2005
Not the prettiest site, but it breaks Kwanzaa down to a kid/basic level.
This is the day of self-determination, and I was DETERMINED not to participate. Why? Because it was hard enough to work and then make that drive in rush hour traffic, but to find out my mother wanted me to MC the event too???? Oh hell to the naw! I would have had to prepare a small speech, talk about stuff I haven't talked about since last year....no. So I got there without busting my ass and FloJo was MCing. Great! TheOffspring helped out and did a great job. I was very proud of him. Its great/odd to see him act mature and accordingly when you want him to. How about that?
The day ofPurpose. I was struggling with the concept because the only damn thing I wanted to purposefully with was the bed. The day before I made the mistake of being lazy and not going to the Laundromat until 11. The good part was that there weren't that many people in there. The scary part was the attendant. She seemed like she was 2 pills short of a lithium overdose. At one point, she blurted out loud as shit "LAUNDRYBAGS!" I thought it was some type of inner qualm she was having with herself but she was talking to another woman in the joint. And oh man she was trippin' when the show "Cheaters" came on. **same audible level** "THAT DON'T MAKE NO GADDAMN SENSE!! YOU GOT YOU A MAN, HE WORK AND YOU GONNA CHEAT! THEY MAKE ME SICK WITH THAT! IF HE AIN'T HAD NO JOB YOU BE CRYIN' ABOUT THAT! THESE WOMENZ OUT HERE DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL THEY WANT!!"
Uh, yeah. That was her at 1:30 in the morning. Only in B-more.
Needless to say the next day I was worthless and luckily my work day was slow. Earlier in the month I had been invited to a Kwanzaa celebration over my cousin's house. (Hmmm...I gave her a pseudonym a long time ago but I forgot it. We will refer to her as WasNotWas) Her idea was to invite all of her friends and family over for an evening of creativity. She bought a bunch of small low-end jewelry boxes, beads, strings, clasps, paints, brushes, and small canvases. In her dining room were copies of old magazines spread all over the floor. We were told to use all of the items to create something artistic. She also had a big canvas called the community canvas where each of us would paint or paste something on the canvas. I didn't do any of those activities being the literary ar-tist that I am **hehehe**. I decided to read 2 of my poems; both of which are here on the site if you missed them. (Today, What It Is) Luckily, when it was poetry time I didn't have to do the freestyle poetry which consisted of topics such as Lemirs and Thanksgiving Dinner, the Ramblewood Hood, Hit and Run, olives in CT, and Masturbation and Jelly Doughnuts. The freestyle consisted of limericks, haikus, and a rap. Hehehe....I have to add this; the freestyle began with WasNotWas on her stairs yelling "You ready for some poetry, bitches??" TOO Funny!
All in all it was a fun night. I'm so glad she came up with the idea; don't you just love artsy-fartsy folks?
Ok. y'all know me. There just had to be a caveat to the night, right? Especially based on my arrogance. So after I read my poems, I was approached by one of the many although one of the few lipstick lesbians in the lot. Convo below.
YouveGottaBeKiddingMe: Hi! You're WasNotWas's cousin right?
Me: Yes. **smile, of course**
YouveGottaBeKiddingMe: Hey, I really enjoyed your poetry. You and your cousins are very captivating with your eyes. Like they were talking directly to me when you were reading.
Me: **me "and my cousins", huh? hmm** Yeah, I guess its a family thing, huh?
YouveGottaBeKiddingMe: Yeah. **laugh** I'm from AZ and we just never have things like this. This is awesome.
Me: Hehehe...that's a whole different breed out there, I'm sure. Kwanzaa is recognized pretty well over here. I assume that's not the case there.
YouveGottaBeKiddingMe: Ohh no! Are you kidding? Not a whole lot of culture in AZ.
**short pause smiling at each other and nodding**
Me: Well, we were just about to head out, it was nice meeting you, YouveGottaBeKiddingMe. See you at the next shindig. **friendly rub on arm**
YouveGottaBeKiddingMe: Nice meeting you too. See you later.
Alright. That was the convo and here is the visual. I'm putting my coat on and look up to see this South American goddess approach me. Tall, thick and long curly hair, very modelesque. The first reaction is "Damn! Hot!". The second reaction is "Oh. She's gay. This convo will be like a business transaction." So that was my mindset. Now, when she stops to talk to me, she **and this is not an exaggeration** is in my personal space. Not near it, in it. I could have grabbed her by the hips and slobbed her down; she was just that close. Then something else kicked in in my mind "What the fuck is she doing? Ohhh!! Its the gay-girl-teases-str8-guy thing. I'm wit it." And yes, I have documented proof that this thing exists! **waving folded papers**
Women. Just when I think I got it, I ain't got shit. Single men, my prayers are with you.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
The Oakland Raiders are probably one of the more disappointing teams in the NFL. There were lots of high hopes; a seasoned veteran QB, the aquisition of probably the best reciever in football. But like the Roots, Things Fall Apart. Kerry Collins suddenly became cross-eyed and the team's defense is old and damn near crippled. I mean, he lost his job to a 3rd year QB who has lost the starting job at least twice.
Monday, December 26, 2005
What goes along with that is that WHEN I see him, he always seems to have a story about some great fatherly deed he had done. Needless to say, there aren't but so many given that I was 2 when they split.
My parents relationship had little to do with me, but the one thing that made me mad at my mom was naming me after my father. Bad Reasoning #1: You knew that he wasn't going to be around too much longer, so why the hell would you make me a junior? He wasn't even at the hospital when I was born. #2: His name sucks!! Of course I'm not going to tell you my real name, but here are some hints: Think of names for boys in 2 Tiers; Names That Suck (NTS)and Name That Really Fucken Suck (NTRFS). Ok. Find in the NTS index of the 10 worst names for a boy in the 20th Century. One of those is probably my middle name. Now, go thru the NTRFS and find the top 5 worst names for a boy in the 20th Century; THAT...my friends, would be my first name. Add a last name that is one of the most common surnames in America along with "Jr" and there you have Brother Kojak's name. Ta-to the fucken-da.
Now I'm going to tie all this together. My father's "I was a great dad" stories with the banged up name for a Black child of the 70's. So he, my wife, my uncle and I are all talking in the kitchen and my father asked me how I dealt with introducing myself with the TheBangedUpName. I said I would just go ahead and introduce myself as such because if I used a nickname, it would end up coming out later anyway so what the hell? He goes, "I would never introduce myself with THeBangedUpName; I would always go by my first two initials. But you know what, I didn't even want to name you TheBangedUpName. I wanted to name you Orlando."
Me:What? Why didn't you name me Orlando instead? I'm not crazy about the name, but its 10 times better than TheBangedUpName!"
SoCalledFather:That wasn't my call. Your mother for some reason wanted to make you a junior.
**BELLS GO OFF...bullshit meter!**
My father is the King of Bullshit. His subtitle is the Earl of Embellishment. I can't fathom my mom wanting to name me TheBangedUpName. It just don't match given the circumstances. So I went to the source and asked MommaCrazy...
MommaCrazy: He said what??? Shiiiiit. You know damn well that bitch wasn't nowhere around so I know you ain't believe him!
So who knows? Knowing my father, he probably came up with that name about 2 or 3 years after they split, "Yeah, Orlando! Now that is a great name for a child!" He got issues. He ain't nutty or nothing, he just lives in his own little world. The problem is, I hate my name so much, the "what if" portion just is gonna eat me alive for the next month or two.
I could have had normal name....not one that goes well with kindergarten teasing, not one that makes 12 year old girls giggle at introduction...a normal, none bodily function sounding name. **sigh** The universe can be so cruel.
Friday, December 23, 2005
|Good God in the Mornin'! The Detroit Lions exemplify Corporate America: blame the other guy. Matt Millen is Shit Monkey personified. He lands one of the more respected head coaches in the league and fires him even though he brought the coach in with no talent and no love from the front office. The Lions have never been a great team, but they were at least competitive. Ever since Millen's reign as General Manager the team has made one bad move after the other. Most recently being his drafting of 3 wide recievers in a row; one thinks that the Cheesecake Factory is literally that, one that has never seen a piss test that he could pass, and one that is about as durable as an old man in a whorehouse and no Viagra. On top of that, they've stuck with the same quarterback for the past 4 years and he has made no real progress. The freaky part, Detroit fans have organzied protests not only in Detroit, but damn near nationwide! Life is hard when you ain't shit...|
If only the Lions looked this good...
Thursday, December 22, 2005
So I wanted to buy a gift someone at Target today. Why Target? Anyone who reads my blog knows how much I hate Target. And because of the website my friend-in-hiding Zoph found, I hate Sam and Dem even more. I would rather go the extra 5 miles to get a crisper, more efficient, friendlier-service experience. I hate to say it, but even though the 2 giants consider themselves competitors, they have 2 different consumers. WalMart has the I-graduated-from-the-projects/trailer park customer. They really don't care what or how the shit is thrown together, as long as its priced right. Target's customer base is the minivan-mommies/Movado-watch-wearing/Whole Foods-shopping folks. I must be in the later category because I'd rather go to the proctologist than go shopping at WalMart; at least you're getting something constructive done.
And so begins the dichotomy a la Brother Kojak:
I hit the Target parking lot and found I did not have to park damn near 3 blocks away like at WalMart.
In front of the Target, are about 8 giant, red, hard plastic balls that you will always see kids climbing over as they follow their parents to the entrance. These balls also act as cart-stops. At WalFart, the only thing in front of the store are some raggedy-ass, discontinued 3rd World reject, forever-splintering (even if its plastic)playground "system". The red balls don't move at Target, but Sam and Dem know that a weak parent is sucker to whining child..
One my way in, I almost get run over nervous looking suburban mom. You know me; I chalk that shit up to Accepted Priviledge; something that could happen at either store.
Just inside, I notice the next difference (well, outside of the clean floor, walls, no roaches smoking Marlboros at the mini-McDonalds, and the increased lighting); Sam and Dem would NEVER not have shopping carts available inside. The more shit you can stack, the more Sam and Dem line their pockets. But it actually was an inconvenience because I thought I needed one. I'll manage.
This next thing has nothing to do with the store, but the clientele. No one tried to run me over with a cart or accidentally smash the shit outta me with a big ass pocketbook, or rush to get in front of me only to push their cart at a snail's pace. I actually was able to walk down the aisle without problem.
Now here's what blows my mind; even though WalFart caters to a more frugal group, why is their shit higher? I got a B-more Ravens tee (to be seen soon....hehehe) for just under $8. Boom. Similar shirt at WalFart was pushing $15.
Ok, the last and final juxtaposition. The check out line. Yeah. I get to the check out line and...wait...what is this? I have....a CHOICE?? A Choice of standing in regular line with 1 person in front of me or walking down to the very last aisle where there is an...no, can it be? Holy Monkey Shit there are TWO FUCKEN EXPRESS LINES!!!!!! I won't even GO there with Shitty Blue.
(this is where I dance in a circle in slow motion smiling and embracing myself)
I get in one of the 2. Uh oh. No price tag. Oh shit...oh no...NO!! I'm having a WalFart Flashback! I'm in line, behind Ester from Sandford and Son, and behind me is Reba McIntyre and her cretin children yelling and fighting who claim to be siblings but don't look shit alike....getting....light-headed....must....must...
TargetGirl: Sir? SIR?
TargetGirl: Excuse me?
Me: (in crazed look with sweat bubbles) huh?
Somehow, the cashier next to her (obviously knowledgeable in the study of Shopping Primordialism) knew what the deal was and held it down before I kirked out with the flashback escalating. He looked at the tag and said "Oh. This is fine. Just type in this number (pointing) with code XYZ and that will give you the right price." Sure the FUCK enough, that was the right damn price. Shall I exemplify the Sam and Dem experience? Do I REALLY have to go there? Alright...you being hard-headed..."(loud as a mutha fucka) Hey Tadesha! Get a price check on dis shirt. Oh! And bring me a box of Stayfrees on your way back. I'm crampin' somethin' ter-rible!"
(15 minutes later...) "Damn bitch! Took you long enough! Get Tammy over here so I can leave and take care of my shit. Damn! And I JUST got these unda-wears too!
On the real though, Target seems to do a lot more community service, even if its just monetary. As far as Prince Georges County is concerned (and I have 1st hand knowledge of this), Target is the slam dunk with a score of about 5 to WalMart's 0. 5 being the number of community initiatives Target has donated to in Prince George's County. I'll always be a WalMart hater. And I don't know...WalMart bashing is becoming a fast growing enthusiasm of mine. **smile**
Friday, December 16, 2005
Hello all. Finals are over, I'm still sick, but a lot less bitter. I have a few things in mind to do during the break. Odd thing is, I've just freed up a bunch of time on my schedule and I can't think of anything to blog about. So I'm going to do a random thing.
Women's Underwear: Hey...we men love them. Well, only when they are on the woman. Its just one of those things. When its time to get intimate, a woman can approach you in those cute, matching undies that drives you crazy every time.
But you know what? Fellas, they don't do it for us, they do it for themselves! Why do you think they buy matching sets? Do make it look good for us? Men, let's be for real, our clothes only match because women want our clothes to match. Do you know what women are doing in the morning after their showers? Putting on their undies and posing. Its a damn shame, man. They're in there looking at how their butts look in the panties, if the bra increases her bust line or pushes up her boobs, or if she shaved close enough around the bikini line(if she cares). So fellas, stop getting siced when you see her bouncing around in the undies; it damn sure aint for you.
I realize that I miss Christmas parties. How very odd. I was talking to PrettyPussy(Cat) about that the other day and trying to explain how you don't miss something until its gone. I currently work for a university. Our Christmas party was during the workday where the boss channeled off about 2-3 hours for us to eat and do that weird gift swap thing. What's it called...Christmas Bingo? Anyway, we did that and that was cool. But when compared the "Do 'Em Up" Christmas parties of the past when I worked for Lockheed Martin or the Suburban Hospital That's Not In the Suburbs (SHiTNIS). At SHitNIS, the doctors would pay for a small ballroom or rent the majority space of a restaurant so that we could eat and dance. That was always fun because you got see some of the FYNE sista's ugly ass boyfriends (am I hatin'?), see how the supervisors acted when they got a little buzzed, or noticed how people danced. It was a real good time and people got talked about hard the following Monday. The Lockheed parties were a little different. Its such a huge company and I worked for such a small division that was a division of Homeland Security. Very lavish; a great setting for me to act bad as usual. We would sit there with our wives smiling all the while nudging each other under the table when we saw someone fine come along. This is going to sound arrogant, but one party I was the source of a few whispers. THe DJ played the gamit of music that (and when he played go-go music, it was time for my ass to leave)went from Bing Crosby to Lil' Jon. Evidently he did a visual scan of the room and saw there there were enough latinos to play some salsa and merengue. The Mrs and I got up and did our thing for a few songs. When I got back, my boy says "Ahhh...Senor Kojak. You have a fan club, dude!"
KeefAndDem: yeah. See them honeys over there? Those 4, one with the blus spaghetti strap dress?
Me: Oooooh yeah! She bangin'!
KeefAndDem: Yeah. That's them. Her and her crew were checking you and your wife dance like 'Damn! They dance like they know what they doing!'
Me: (pimp laugh) Eh he eh he eh HE! Well pimp, I guess a playa need to not put all his styles in the streets, huh? N'yamean?
**sigh** I want to go on vacation. I want to get outta town and act a fool. So much so that I would feel compelled to go to the mosque upon my return. Ain't THAT some shit!I got issues.
I'm also running out of things to blog. Or at least, things that are worthy of being blogged. Lets hope that I get off my ass and start doing some of the things that could be interesting to blog about. I COULD talk about the fact that I'm the shit-talking-est, no coochie-getting-est kat I know. It's a damn shame too. All dat damn mouth. The one thing a married man wants that none are willing to admit is that "let's play" effect on women. You want to be able to flirt and get the blush with the smile. I get the eye roll, sucking of the teeth, accompanied by the proverbial exclamation point "Nigga, please!". But, tonight is the typical Daddy Duty Sat.; writing in my blog and watching my son read a damn book. UGH. Vegas, a bottle of Gran Marnier, and 2 Brasillian girls who don't speak English but think I'm Danny Fortson from the Seattle SuperSonics (see post before last) are calling me!!
Thursday, December 15, 2005
You are "the Bobs".
You are basically in a position of power. With the
ability to fire people at will, you can make
them do almost anything you want. Like forcing
someone to lie about their true feelings for
adult contemporary artists.
Which Office Space Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Now, back to my own selfish endeavors. I have asked a couple of you to help me with my NFL Wrap Up. Those of you who said that you would contribute, please email me your goodies sooner than later. Excited as I am? Probably not...
Other business, Neckbone, if you are reading this, email me. My address is in my profile. I have a cool idea to present to you.
Its wintertime, and as usual, i bitch about the east coast weather. Man, this is some ol' bullshit! I hate the cold! What I need to do is graduate and find me a job in Miami. I think I could thrive there because its a facetious, cubano town; 2 things I am not. Given that the weather and scenery is beautiful down there, I could be entertained on that. Also given that I wouldn't really fit in, I would be able to focus on career and family and stay out of trouble. See? Its perfect!
When it comes to music, my knowledge-base is more geared towards R&B than anything else. Not because its my favorite genre of music, but because I've exposed to it more. What I notice in R&B is that it is sometimes not as dynamic as other genres. Like in the 70's, Stevie Wonder was the Producer Extrordinaire (PE). Then Nigel Rogers of Chic fame who probably is the most prolific because he to this day STILL has his hands is music production. Roger Troutman (God rest ya life) was a standout for a minute. Then came Gene Griffin who ACTUALLY was stealing styles from his protege son Teddy Riley. And some of us know Teddy Riley from Guy, Wrecks N' Effect, and Black Street fame. his resume is diverse. He even produced and arranged a song for Boy George. Go figure. Right behind him would have to be Timbaland who actually claimed to be the Teddy Riley of the 90's. Now its Mr. Bighead himself, Kanye West. This is kat is so self-absorbed his MC name should be SpongeBob. At the same time, he produces results.
Uh....why I brought all that up I don't know.
I just had a talk with a woman about feminism. I was facinated because this chic reminds me of June Cleaver 2000. Likes to cook, clean, and all that domestic shit. At the same time she strongly believes in the empowerment of women sans the bra burning. It is her opinion that that part of feminism ruined the movement. She believes in the No More Than, No Less Than philosophy. I think her way of thinking is actually making a comeback. Women of today look at their aunts and 2nd cousins who are childless and still single yet have all the loot they could ever want. They see them showing up to family gatherings alone, cell phone pressed to the ear. They see them break out the pics of their pugs or himalayan cats when others pull out family albums. Maybe thats the life they have chosen, maybe not. Women are looking at women like Heidi Klum and Catherine Zeta Jones, pretty women who can still be mommies. (Sorry, those are the only examples I could think of)
Man, I'm done. I'll holla.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
"Men ain't shit!"
"Men ain't good shit except one thing, and sometimes they ain't no good at that!"
"Pass the Haagen-Daz!"
These are sentences that we all have used or have heard from women. And hey, that's ok because some of us ain't about shit. However, I want to put it all into perspective as to why women keep getting beat in the head (figurately) by us menz.
Today I got off my fat ass and started running regiment. Afterwards, the Offspring and I went to the super market to get some bananas and pb&j. As I was walking in, I caught an exiting woman checking out my "package". I didn't catch her until late because when I made eye contact she was almost past me.
Now before I get blasted with comments from the Peanuthead Gallery (and you KNOW who you are!), Let me tell you how I was dressed.
grey Columbia Fleece pullover
red Under Armour mock underneath
black running tights
black shorts over tights
black running shoes
Now...not the most provocative attire, is it? I mean, I've been told women look all the time, but maybe its the power of the dizzat that gets you guys irritated and mad at us men. Yes? No? Somewhere there in the middle?
Saturday, November 26, 2005
This post is a little overdue. My daily juggle has made it difficult to address, but for the sake of the White Women of America it is necessary. If you are not a white woman, you may want to go run and get that hot dog from 7-11, check out what Neckbone or Bowman has been talking about, or catch that Law & Order rerun on the USA network.
Ok...can we gather up front please? Let's all sit on the floor in the form of a circle with our legs folded Indian style, ok? And yes, there is warm hot chocolate on the table up here too. Oooh...oooh! Don't forget the marshmellows! They're on the table next to the carafe. They are just great, aren't they? Ok! Are we ready? Oh...we have a couple of straglers....down here girls! That's right....GREAT to have you! Ok! So lets have a talk amongst ourselves so that we can come to terms with ourselves and maybe even bond! Wouldn't that be great? Ok!
White Women of America, I'm not going to keep you long. I know you have JUST finished with Thanksgiving and having to clean the cranberry sauce that your neice smeared on your nice table cloth....the Christmas shopping that needs to be done, the charity drive at work. But White Women of America, I'm concerned. You and I have had a few empasses over the years that we should discuss.
Hey White Women of America, if I'm crossing the street and you are driving and slowing to a stop, can I get the same stopping distance that you would give your aunt or your grandmother? White Women of America, we both know I'm Black, we both know that Black men have a propencity to be nibble-a-foot, but White Women of America, I am equally afraid of large, rapidly moving vehicles. Can I get that White Women of America? Just because I'm Black doesn't mean that I am Shaquanna-from-the-office-pool-who-I-can't-stand-because-she-rolls-her-eyes-at-me-for-no-reason-doesn't-she-know-I-have-a-degree-and-she-doesnt-and-I-am-pretty-much-her-boss-too-so-who-the-hell-does-she-think-she-is's boyfriend. That is not your opportunity to initiate your vendetta on Shaquanna-from-the-office-pool-who-I-can't-stand-because-she-rolls-her-eyes-at-me-for-no-reason-doesn't-she-know-I-have-a-degree-and-she-doesnt-and-I-am-pretty-much-her-boss-too-so-who-the-hell-does-she-think-she-is. She and I probably don't even know each other! Do you understand that? Can I get that?
White Women of America, if I say "hi" to you in passing on the street, it doesn't mean I want to fuck you. Hey, I may just be in a good mood. White Women of America, please realize that the myths aren't really true. Not every Black man covets a White woman. That was a myth derived from the slavery age. You all are beautiful in your own unique ways, but in all honesty, (and I have to revert to slang) I got some good shit on lock. The "shit" I am referring to is what you can call...oh let's call it coochimus awesomeus. White Women of America, I would say at least half of the Black men who say "hi" to you on the street don't want to fuck you. You may just be in the way and that is their way of saying "excuse me" or "could you please get your narra ass outta the way?" Or, just like me, he may just want to say "hi". At the same time, a man is a man so there are some who want you; regardless of race. So if I see you on the street and say "hi", could you reply back please? You can keep your eyes forward, you can keep walking forward, but everyone from the President of the United States to the bum on the street deserves acknowledgement when they speak.
Is everyone still comfortable? Get comfie and don't worry...I'm almost done.
Ummmm....White Women of America (prticularly of the East Coast), it's almost wintertime. No matter how fashionable flip-flops were this summer, the Summer of 2005 is gone. Please stop wearing them. Your pink toes seem to look so tortured with the now Welcome To Canada, Eh? winds coming in. Please either box them up, or better yet just toss them. White Women of America, it's over. Move on please.
White Women of America, (and this is soooooo applicable to this time of year)if you see me in a store aisle and you need to get by, the best way to do that is to say "excuse me". The following actions do not work on me, White Women of America:
1.) Just standing there and waiting until I see you and decide to move out of
2.) Just standing there sighing increasingly louder and waiting until I see you
and decide to move out of your way.
3.) Standing there and gradually moving closer until you ASSUME that you are so
close that I have no other choice but to move out of the way.
Now, White Women of America, what happened to the wonderful manners your kintergarden teacher taught you? She taught you those for a reason and the same rules should apply in adult case scenarios as well.
Ok, I'm done! That wasn't that bad, was it? Hey, let's give everybody a big hand for listening and participating, ok? **clapping** C'mon! You can clap louder than that! That's it, that's it!
Alright! Let's have some more cocoa...
Monday, November 14, 2005
The bass player was doing his own shit, so was the the trumpeter, so was the violinist, and so was the drummer. I know a little about music and it seemed like the voilinist and trumpeter were trying to mock and or follow each. That's all well and good but the bass player and drummer were doing their own thing. Given all that, it was still entertaining. Not the music, but the reactions of the audience. There was this woman sitting in front of me; during the entire performance she was a nervous wreck. That was mostly due to the drummer's crazy and continous solos that included very loud rimshots and cymbol shots. It was great! She looked like a crack addict; everytime the drummer would hit a hard rimshot she would jump and she had this nervous twitch with her hand and ear. Oh MAN it was funny! When the band stood up, I think she left the room before they did.
Ok. I'm late on the draw with blogging. It'll only get worse for the next couple weeks. Finals are in 2 weeks. The dreamjobs I applied for....0 for 2. **sigh** Its all to the Good though. I have more option in the same industry.
Let me see, what else...I'm very content right now. For a variety of reasons. Life is good. I guess to give an example without going into too much detail is how 2 men told me in same day that I was a good man and appreciated. That felt good.
Happy Gobble Gobble!
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Way back when, I asked a woman what her fantasy was. She told me it was a 3some with 2 men. My response was "Wow. Can you handle that?"
"Sure," she said. "But they have to be there for me. I'm
the one that is supposed to be having the fantasy."
"So you are just gonna be there while they are all over your?" I asked.
"Basically" she replied.
"Yeah. So....?" she asked.
"Huh? Me? No siiiir. Me no sword fight. We don't do THAT!"
"Nobody asked you to 'sword fight' as you call it. You just be there for me and please me while he pleases me."
" No siiiiir. What if his thing touch me?"
"Oh, stop being retarded. And what if it does? That's not going to make you instantly gay!"
"I don't know. It might do! No thanks. You are lovely, but uh....naw man."
A few weeks later...
ME: ...so I was like wtf??? This girl was on some ol' different shit.
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: Hmmm. What did YOU say?
ME: I told her I don't get down like that. But the main turn-off was that she wasn't going to do much besides lay there.
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: So what if you had a woman who would be off the chain with hers?
ME: In a 3some?
ME: Hmmm...I don't know. If she could "Bring the Noise, Bring The Funk", sure. Maybe. I think I would have to be highly intoxicated though.
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: Hehehehe. So what do you drink?
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: What do you drink? I mean, if we are hanging in the streets, AND you get a little tipsy, AND something jumps off, well, might as well call a friend, right?
ME: Sonya!!!! You get down like that too?!?!??!
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: Not like everyday, but...you know. Every now and then you gotta shake the pot. If we kickin' it, why NOT call my man for a little twist on the fun?
ME: **mouth gaping**
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: I mean, she obviously knows something I don't, and I'm curious to know what she knows.
ME: **mouth still gaping**
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: And if she DOESN'T know, I'd like to beat her to the punch. You down?
ME: **mouth STILL gaping**
TheFreakWhoYouWouldntKnowOnTheStreets: Say something! You know what, forget it. You are stuck on some dumb shit like you a choir boy or something. BTW, close your mouth. I just saw a couple of flys buzzing around.
ME: **took me about 20 minutes to close my mouth**
Friday, November 11, 2005
There will be no theme to this entry; just random shit off the cuff.
Wow I'm Touched: Yesterday I was talking to an aquiantance and she and I were catching up. Towards the end of the conversation, she told me she was proud of me. I asked her what for. Her response was that when she met me I was at a low point in life. No job, no stable place to stay, no car, and a smashed marriage. After the updates, she was impressed that I managed to turn my life around and am still moving forward.
Remember when you were a kid and you would get praised? You'd beam like a spotlight and show off all the missing teeth in your head. Yesterday was the same thing all over again for me.
Things I Want to Do After I Graduate: I want to get back to my music roots. When I was in a rap/breakin' group called the Classic 3. No, I don't plan on pulling out the cardboard and bustin' a move, but I want to get some compositon software and get at it. I'm also going to rekindle my affair with my girl Sheila**. My girl Bessy Lou has one foot in the grave, so I'm going to have to get a new bitch.***
What I"m Drooling Over: The 2006 Dodge Charger Daytona R/T.
This car just does it for me. I've yet to be able to save enough money for the REAL Dodge Charger, and I can't see myself financing a 40 year old vehicle. So, my dream is to get the Charger, and give it an old school paint job and look. Hopefully, I will be able to buy and post the entire project on here.
But don't hold your breath. I ain't!
**My EA-6 Washburn guitar.
***Bessy Lou was my sax for over 10 years.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
I hope to GOD y'all had a better weekend than I did. Let me take that back...my weekend was good, but it definitely had its frustrating moments. My weekend was so “blogful” that I'm going to have to put them in topics and blog about them at some other time. Here we go:
White women. Talk to your fellow sisters. When you are in a crowded area and need to get by, the best gesture is to say “excuse me” or “pardon me”. Accepted Priviledge doesn't work on everyone.
White women. Talk to your fellow sisters. It is now Fall on the East Coast. The average temperature is 60 degrees. Let go of the flip flops. slide them off, put them in the back of the closet until next summer. Its just too cold for them shits. If you are wearing fuchia and cream, you pink toes don't match anyway.
Neighborhood gentrification is going to be one of the underlying root factors of the next American social upheaval.
Disappointing a friend has got to be one of the most painful emotional feelings next to death because that transmission of disappointment from one person to the other is as instantaneaous as a light switch.
women hate me once a month.
$600 can get you a“ 'Round the World” about 4 times over on the Block, but it can't even you a hand job from your wife.
My homophobia is diminishing. This weekend is the true test.
The topic of squirting has GOT to be the most bizarre way to begin a conversation.
I'm sexy as HELL! (Well, except for my MITTS, 40 year chic-like butt, tribal looking stretch marks, my black volley ball stomach...)
if you are a sexy sex symbol such as the Rock, never use the word “tummy”.
Women. Call us men what you want, but lipstick lesbians are a turn on.
Speaking of lesbianism, the good ol' 3some. That's one hard deal to sell, jack.
Speaking of 3somes, indecent proposals always throw me for a curve.
Ok, so y'all merinate on dat! I got a midterm and a presentation, but fret not. These topics will be covered.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Offspring: **laughing** You sounded like Toyman from that Superfriends video.
Me: You mean like your Uncle Toyman? (Glueman looked like the Superfriends cartoon character Toyman when he was trying on Under Armour)++
Offspring: **laughing** We watched that video the other day. It was weird watching that old cartoon with the commercials and stuff.
Me: Commercials? The video had commercials in it?
Offspring: No, but you told me about some of the commercials when you were a kid.
Me: Huh? Why did you just say....nevermind. Yeah, commercials were a lot different back then. They used to lie to us all the time. Like, GI Joe. Now, when you see a GI Joe commercial, the kids are playing with it and making all the sounds and what not. Back then, they would fake you out HARD, man! GI Joe would make all the cool sounds. Move without you touching him, talk. **In commercial voice** "GI Joe Super Duper ParaTrooper!! With real parachute!" Then you'd see all these GI Joe's falling out of the sky and all these kids in a backyard looking up saying "Look! GI Joe is falling from the sky! Yeaaaa!" It was messed up, man.
Offspring: What about that other commercial; with the cardinal?
Me: Oh the one where he was singing and flying like he was drunk? Man!
Offspring: **laughing and singing the song** Yeah. That one.
Me: Let me think if there are any more....do y'all have Smokey the Bear?
Offspring: Yeah. He is on commercials, posters at schoool, all that stuff.
Me: Hmmm! Some things just don't change. What's he look like now?
Offspring: He's big and built like this **flexing muscles**. He carries around a shovel. One commercial he went to a camper's fire and poured water over the fire. The campers were like **making surprise face**
Me: **laughing** Man, when I was a kid, Smokey the Bear was a straight punk. He would always be in the commercials saying "Please. Don't start forest fires." And then start crying.
Fire all over the place and he crying. Its a shame I tell you!
Offspring: **laughing** Don't just stand there crying, DO SOMETHING!
++ IN the Toyman link, Toyman is the one with the freaky black and gold costume.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
This baseball thing seems to be picking up steam. Things are happening in the positive direction and its very exciting. I observe that one of my shortcomings is my belief in people based on race. It amazes me that I, a black man, and the leader of white men. One top of that, so far I'm the only brother on the team. Even MORE amazing than that, I'm the only one that thinks its a big deal. I share this thought with others and the reaction is "Oh. I guess you're right." That tells me a couple things; our society has come further than I think or I'm more of a natural leader (in general) than I thought.
One of my weaknesses is what our society calls homophobia. I am not afraid of homosexuals, it just freaks me out to see a man all up on a man or a man happily dressed like a woman. Wow. I'll never understand that. Women....are the bomb. Especially when they...
Mmm. Anyway, my cousin is having a costume party and when she told me some of her gay couple friends would be there, I double-taked. Immediately, I thought of who would go with me to run interference given that Mrs. Kojak would be working. Hmmm....
**crickets chirping in the background.**
I ask my friend Renaissance to come with me as Mrs. T (the party theme is the 80's and Mr. and Mrs. T was a classic Saturday Night Live spoof). No dice, lesbians either love her or hate so that no need in anybody getting their ass kicked.
I told CrazyHair about the party, and she and some of her crew are with it. Huge sigh of relief. Proof of my "homophobia" is this IM chat with my man Zoph!.
Conversation with whereiszoph
brotherkojak: oh boy....(after reading his intro)
brotherkojak: you are totally GONE!
brotherkojak: I have a question for you
Zoph!: geez... everybody is messaging me all at once
Zoph!: I didn't do it
brotherkojak: oh! I was about to say!
brotherkojak: everything alright up there?
Zoph!: yeah... a little hectic
Zoph!: trying to get back into homework and all that
Zoph!: books coming a little late
Zoph!: still need one
Zoph!: oddly enough... the cheapest one
brotherkojak: damn that sucks
Zoph!: I guess....
Zoph!: need to get more sleep this weekend than last
brotherkojak: lol. u party?
Zoph!: unfortunately, not yet
Zoph!: they're still doing odds and ends around the apartment... that's a pain... the one manager is really pissed at the other one for taking so long
brotherkojak: not yet...sounds like u gonna have 2 wait homeboy
Zoph!: 3 Halloween parties coming up at the end of the month
brotherkojak: i have 1 to go to, but my cousin is throwing it and she just happens to be gay.
Zoph!: should be.... interesting
brotherkojak: man please
Zoph!: gay guys are good guys though... I know 2
Zoph!: music education and architect
brotherkojak: this 1 couple (2 dudes) are coming as Peaches And Herb
brotherkojak: (old school..look it up)
Zoph!: mmmm yeah... before my time
Zoph!: which one is going to be peaches?
brotherkojak: shit! who cares!
brotherkojak: its 2 dudes!!!
brotherkojak: if I go, I'm going as Mr.T.
Zoph!: I was thinking about doing that for 'ween as a joke
brotherkojak: you should do it!
Zoph!: that or Jack the Pumpkin King from The Nightmare Before Christmas
brotherkojak: i missed that one
Zoph!: I need to find lots of gaudy rings and jewelry though.... if I'm going to be Mr. T
Zoph!: the mohawk is easy
brotherkojak: lol....I have to be creative with my mohawk
Zoph!: you'll be the rastafarian Mr. T
brotherkojak: LOL!! right right
brotherkojak: "I pity the fool!...mon"
brotherkojak: gotta go. I'll see you at the Million Man Movement
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
I also haven't read any blogs either. I think because I'm at a point in my new job where they are testing me to see what else I'm capable of. Right now, I have to write a documentation specified for the University of installing a Blackberry. And yes, that is due. Thursday. Terrific.
OH! Also my ass was to the fire the other day. I have aspirations for this one particular type of job and job announcements are privy to only a select few. Well, I got one and luckily I let Glueman in on the deal what was up because he read it and said "Oh shit! Do you realize that this is due in 2 days??" Hmmm...2 days to have this thing mailed. Hmmmm. Well, there's always FedEx, right?
Yeah, right. I called them and to get the application packet from B-more to DC by close of business would cost me $52 for the 1st 15 miles and $2 for every mile there after:
MATH CLASS TIME!!
15 miles = $52 dollars **constant**
42 miles to DC from B-more, 84 miles roundtrip
84 miles - 15miles = 69 miles
69 miles * 2 damn dollars/mile = 138 damn dollars
138 damn dollars + **constant**
= 138 damn dollars + $52 = 190 damn dollars (plus tax)
*Note: damn dollars > dollars
So I really wasn't rolling like that, so I had to take it to the streets.
**I pick up the phone and dial**
Me: What up, dog?
BastanteRojo: Oh shit. What the fuck YOU want?
Me: Damn man. Why it gotta be all that?
BastanteRojo: You know don't nobody trust you. What you plotting?
Me: Man, I'm just tryin' to get a favor from a brotha.
BastanteRojo: Greeeat! How many of my offspring is it gonna cost me?
Me: See? There YOU go! Talkin' all that shit. You gonna help me out? I mean, I need your help for real for real.
BastanteRojo: Aight. Where is this place.
Me: Just in DC.
BastanteRojo: Ahhh! Ok. Is this a legitimate address? This ain't meeting Pookie in the alley or no shit like that is it?
So, after a lot of cajoling, BastanteRojo hooked me up and dropped the joint off for me. Good looking out!!
There is an old saying that my grandfather used to say when he wasn't scolding me, "anything worth having ain't worth nothing if somebody gave it to you."
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Saturday, September 24, 2005
What else is going on? That's about it. I'm so glad to hear that my Texan friends are ok after Rita's rolled thru. Unfortunately, it seems she kicked New Orleans in the teeth. From the little bit of engineering background I have, I think they may have to start from scratch for at least SOME of the areas down there. Its evident that the initial civil engineering was unproductively creative at best. Civil engineering technology nowadays is way past some big ass levees. Its time to implememt.
You wanna talk about selfish? Man, all those southern evacuees and you know what my biggest worry has been this weekend? Activating my new phone. Its a Samsung Palm phone, and from all the headaches I've initially had from it, its gonna be worth its weight in gold. First I get it, and couldn't download the drivers to it. That means no syncing Outlook. Tried that on 2 computers. No dice. Ok, then I decide to walk to the Sprint store and have them transfer my numbers and change my phone number to a local area code. No dice. They couldnt do the number change because its a palm phone. They couldn't do the phone number change because Sprint no longer allows stores to do number changes. 20 minutes in line for nothing. Then today, I try and change my phone number, did so sucessfully, but too bad I was on the middle of a highway so I couldnt follow thru. I tried changing the number according to the customer rep's instructions, no dice. So I call the help line. 45 minutes on holdwith no operator. I go study with my girl CrazyHair and while I wanted to kick the shit out of her yelping, over-priced puppy, I called Sprint again only to get a customer rep. who gave me another Sprint number. THAT number was the number to Sprint technical services....FOR SPRINT EMPLOYEES. How the FUCK am I supposed to get service from the employee service line when I ain't no damn employee??? Stupid ass.
So finally I get a service rep who knows what the hell he is doing. Now I have to figure out how to get these drivers to work for the PDA. Damn, you'd never know that I did this shit for a living....
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
My new mistress, Fall Ball is going great (to me at least). Damn, I don’t remember if I mentioned that. I’ve got a couple of guys together to play baseball at school. Yesterday was our 1st practice. We weren’t even on a baseball field, but we have batting practice (BP) and a little fielding practice. I pitched BP. Damn if felt good. Adult sports in a team environment. No kids. No girlfriends. I almost got a “no chic around” hard on. We men get those from events like this; watching wrestling matches with the fellas, card night (farts included), weight-lifting in full sweat and so on. Friday is the next practice with Happy Hour to follow. I get siced! I may have picks for a select few of y’all. Some of you already know the link. I should have it updated tomorrow.
The catch phrase is “Don’t you agree with me here?”
**tapping MGD bottle** Attention, attention. I have an announcement. Congratulations are in order and shit for Zulu and her new manz and dem. They are scheduled to jump the broom at the broom's earliest convenience. Congratulations y'all. May your lives together DEFINITELY NOT turn out to be the living hell mine did.
Just kidding, just kidding. Just don't have any kids, man. I don't think the world can handle SP and Zulu offsprings.
Please show them some love on her site.
Monday, September 12, 2005
The new catch phrase is from my TCP/IP professor who says in his Middle Eastern accent "Do you agree with me here?" when in actuality on the first day of class, this one kat DID NOT agree with him.
Professor: When a packet is delivered, what remains constant and what remains the same?
Dude: The IP address changes.
Professor: No, the IP address stays the same! It is the MAC address that changes between routers.
Dude: That's not possible. The MAC address is on the computer. The IP address can always change.
Professor: It could but it does not. The packet must move through the network so the MAC address changes between routers and IP address does not change, do you agree with me here?
Dude: no I don't!
That was some funny shit, man. Do you agree with me, here?
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Shhhhhh. Hear that? That's the sound of my head inflating like a hot air balloon.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
I can tell you what I definitely don't advocate: the handicapped. Why? Because they get all the good shit; nice parking spaces, the big ass toilet stall. They need that stuff because society can be very negligent of people who are not among the "normal". However, sometimes they take it a little too far. Like the story I heard over the radio about the guy trying to take a dump in the handicap stall and was harrassed by a guy outside of the stall in a wheelchair EVEN THOUGH there was another handicap stall available. Or like today when I was on the phone and walking out of the building. This disabled woman (she used the crutches with the arm slots) was sitting just outside the doors smoking a cigarette. I opened the doors and walked out. After taking about 2 steps I hear her yell "hey!" I turned around and she says "That was my crutch you knocked over." Apparently the crutch was keeping the door open so she wouldnt be locked out and I tipped it over inside the building. "Oops. I'll go get that for you." So I walk back thru the building and get her crutch. Ok, here's my thing; you are already handicapped so why are your gonna do something that's gonna fuck your body up even more? And how the fuck was I supposed to know that you cropped the door open with your crutch? She wasn't pissed or anything but she was still like "can't you see I'm trying to get my smoke on?" It was crazy. I should have said "oh yeah? Will gimmie that other damn crutch!" And through that shit in the street.
heheehhe...that's fucked up. I can see her now yelling at me now "That's aight, that's aight. I can't get you, but SOMEBODY will! You black long-haired bastard!"
Oh MAN! Wheew! Ok, I'm going to the store to get my gasoline-line draws for my express trip to Hell. See y'all later.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Glueman and A-Train (Glueman's trainer) were on the golf course and invited FIL (father-in-law) along. Like all golf courses, there are usually 2 places to tee off. This 1st hole had 3; one for the good hitters, one for scrubs, and one for old men and ladies. A-Train teed off where the pros did, and Glueman at the scrub spot. FIL decided to go pro even though he hadn't played in years. A-Train hits his ball. Then Glueman. On FIL's turn, takes his swing and whiffs it. 2nd attempt. Whiff dois. The course marshall sees this and says "Sir, you might want to move up to a different tee because of your skill-level."
"My skill-level, huh? Alright." he responded. On the way to his ball he grumbled the entire time to Glueman. When he got to the ball, he hit it again, a little better than the first, but still shitty. Another marshall came by and offered some asssistance. " Sir, would you like a ride up the hill to your ball?" FIL's response?
"Fuck you, fuck this course, and fuck this game." Picked his shit up and walked away. Keep in mind this is a 74 year old man who is sem-handicapped. He walked the 2 miles to Glueman's house and went home.
Hehehe...that's too funny, but back to my machete. FIL was supposed to sharpen it, but because of the golf fiasco, I doubt he did. I need it because I use the machete to chop overgrowth and ward off stray dogs. Yes, stray dogs. We have a stray dog problem in the neighborhood and when I see one, my shit needs to be ready on my hip, son-son! Yesterday was the first day that I cut the lawn without it in a few years. Luckliy there were no stray dogs, but there was plenty of overgrowth. I had to get the 2 hand cutters to cut shit down. That's just no fun. I get that feeling of the ancestors when I'm choppin', or I can pretend to be a maniacal Rastafarian. "Bloodfire!! I and I a chop yurass!!" Hey, it makes work fun. So I had to get the cutters, snap the branches and move them away. With the machete I could have just kept chopping until the shit was dust. So yesterday's yardwork was some shit, I quit after about 45 minutes and did like FIL "Fuck you, fuck this yard, and fuck yardwork."
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Scene: Glueman's home office listening to Eric Roberson
Glueman: Damn. That boy is a bad mutha fucka.
Me: Yea. He tight. **deep breath** Yup! taught him everything I know.
Glueman: Hmph! I bet that shit ain't take long....
Scene: Whole family walking in driveway on the way out
Ms. Kojak: Fag!
Me: Your muva.
Ms. Kojak: Shit! YOUR mutha! She the one with all the gay girlfriends. How gay is THAT?
Me: Shiiiiiit! The jury still out on your muva.
Ms. Kojak: Hmph! My mother LOVES men. You know that.
Me: Yea, is any of them got another name besides Jesus? (Jesus, not Jesus as in Hay-sus)
Ms. Kojak: SHUT UP, KOJAK!!
Me: Hehehehe...alright. By the way, don't let me forget that I need to get some dog food.
Ms. Kojak: ok, but what are the rest of us gonna eat?
Scene: kitchen during breakfast
Me: I'm curious as to how this thing (sports) is gonna work out.
Ms. Kojak: I am too. Good luck.
Me: Man, if I can pull this off I'll be the man.
Ms. Kojak: Oh baby, you ARE the man.
Me: Thank you, baby!
Offspring: hey dad....
Hmmm. That's love for you. If that's what you wanna call it.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Its about 20 minutes later and I'm walking towards the office. Guess who's there? Uh huh, Buttercup. (no, the nick is not a term of endearment; its reminiscent of what she was wearing) I walk towards her, and I can see from my shadow that I'm doing a cross between George Jefferson and Rudy from Fat Albert walk. I, uh, straightened out the walk and noticed a decoy; my man from the Athletic Club. I stood and rapped with him, waved and smiled at Buttercup. All of the sudden, things got great and messed up at the same time. While I was talking to dude, the FYYYYNEST woman on campus (a grad assistant to some truly lucky professor) walked by smiling and waving to someone across the way. I continued to talk, but head followed as she glided past. What was so good about her? I don't even know where to start. But the point of the story is, I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if Buttercup had been watching my action and reaction. Sure enough, I was caught red-eyed. Oh well, I like the way things jiggle the RIGHT way on a woman. Not feeling the multiple rolls jiggling. But that's a different blog. At least she knows I'm not gay. **wink**
Damn I ain't shit....
And here is another way I ain't shit. There is a woman who was giving me the blues during her computer's migration. Her email starting screwing up and check this out, she saw me walking to another assignment and screams out the window of the shuttle bus "Kojak!! You need to come back to my office!" I was blown. Where was the couthe? But what's worse is that if she was fine, I would have gone right over there and fixed her computer.
Damn I ain't shit...
Ok, need you guys help. A friend of mine REALLY needs some work. She is bilingual, honors graduate, and is a certified Java developer. I think at this point she's ready to move if she needs to. If any of you know of some opportunities matching her skillset, shoot me an email.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Cheez-Wiz pick-up Line of the Day (used by yours truly): Hi there. You know, you look a lot like my cousin, and SHE is gorgeous!
Sunday I singed the hair on my arm trying to be Emeril and shit. My mom asked me to get on the grill. Me being the patient person that I am (yeah right) I tossed in about 2 handfuls of Match Light and closed the lid. When I opened the lid back up, I instantly had blond hair on my arms. Genius.
I didn't share this with you all, but I interviewed for a promotion here at work. I got it. Yea me! Now I at least I have the option of making mac-da-roni and cheese with Kraft cheddar instead of the US Department of Agriculture giveway cheese.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Find The Way
by Eric Roberson
How can I have you?
And never really have you?
At least not like I want to
Your heart should not be shared
Or should not be compared
To any other love that’s there
That’s just not fair
IIIII…. I’m down to loose you
For a chance to gain you
Even if all I gain
Is the respect that you see in me
I’m willing to set you free (I’m willing to set you free)
All I offer you is honesty (offer is honesty)
I mean honestly
I need you
But girl not, this way
I want something
Much more than
What you’ll give today
To show you
I want you
I’ll push you away
If its meant
To be girl
I trust that it will find a way
Too close to hold on
But trust me I intend to
Though I’m deep into you
I hope I’ll find my way
I hope you’ll be ok
Holding on to just what I say
While we’re away
Ohhhh….its hard to leave you
I feel like I breathe you
I look to survive
Holding on to my dreams at night
That’s the only time I hold you tight
Waking up just don’t feel right
No it just ain’t right
I need you
But girl not, this way
I want something
Much more than
What you’ll give today
To show you
I want you
I’ll push you away
If it’s meant
To be girl
I trust that it will find a way
The Vault-Vol 1.5
Copyright 2004, Blue Erro Soul
Friday, August 12, 2005
She no longer lives near me; she is now a resident of the Great Metropolis. A place where even she can be considered somewhat typical. I'm sure she weaves her spells to others in the Great Metropolis in the same calculating matter; some of her "victims" unsuspecting, others prepare for the hex with a smile. However, every now and then she comes home. Her visits are short and sometimes a surprise. And even though I've been under her spell for a few years, I was angered by the fact that I missed my opportunity to be hypnotized once again. Seduced and left sitting in place with a preposterous grin on my face as evidence. It was my turn again and I missed her. It won't happen again. And the next time I see her, I will make sure she leaves with me, permanently. For I will be prepared and have MY OWN set of spells ready to cast upon the doors of her soul. The relationship will no longer be hapless victim to siren, it will be Sugar Daddy to maven.
Ok...so that was a little over the top; but I am definitely infatuated with this woman's musical style. When I saw her give a solo on piano, I was blown. Not just because it sounded so good, but because she sounded good AND had the flu AND just finished driving down from NYC to DC during both cities rush hours. That's the type of heart I like in a woman. Hmmm...I wonder if she knows how to make waffles in high heels? **smile with evil laugh**
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Football practice was pretty good. Usually I job while the Offspring knocks kids on their asses. Way to muggy for that shit. I need to do a lite workout tomorrow though. I got Kings Dominion and the 4 Brothers movie tomorrow. Worst of all, I need to get laid! Why can't I get laid? Because I seem to have a "sports-related" injury. Seems that I was a little to aggressive with Mrs Kojak a couple weeks ago. I ended up cutting my self. I have a new camera phone and took a pic of the injury. Just scroll down:
a little lower...(I don't want to get kicked off of blogger)
little bit more....
Now see? If you scrolled down this far, you are livin' trife! Like I'm going to post a pic of my dizzak! Be for real! Nasty trollops......hehehhe
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Offspring: Hey dad...
Offspring: Why did you cut your hair?
Me: Because it was too long and heavy. Plus certain jobs don't think its cool to have hair that long.
Offspring: I want the old dad back.
Me: Huh? What do you mean? I'm right here!
Offspring: I want the old dad back with long hair, not short hair.
Offspring: You just shouldn't cut your hair.
The Wisdom of a child. What's really odd about the convo was his demeanor. He spoke knowingly and with continuity unlike his usual hyper and choppy delivery. It reminds me of a convo I had with my mom a long time with my mom. I remember telling her that she acted stupid when she smoked weed. She's never smoked after that. I wonder was he trying to tell me something subversively?
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Everybody loves the computer guy. Especially the women who think they can use their feminine wiles on me. Unfortunately, it worked. What can I say? Women are from Venus, men are from The Alley That You're Allowed Beat Off In. So I saved the damsel in distress. Whoppee. I've come to realize that my son, the gentle offspring of Brother Kojak has a propensity for football. He gets ready all extra early, full gear for about an hour or so before practice starts. This is the same kid that likes gardening, baking cookies, and walks a little suspect. This same child gets excited to knock another kid on his ass. Anger issues or something. Go figure.
After practice I drop him off at his nana's house. From there I head over to hang out with my boy ElHÃbridoRojo. He and I have a verbal battleevery timeeaccusingg the other of being a pimp. I had to ask him why is it so difficult for him given the incredible ratio of women to men in the DC area. His answer was the quantity vs qualityargumentt. He is looking for a spiritual woman that is grounded and down to earth. My answer to that was just do the damn thing. Some seemingly snotty women may have that attitude just as a1stt defense. They don't want then kats with the orange suit and matching shoes steppin' to them. I doubt they want Steve Urkel as well. He agreed and found it a valid point. As contrite as that may be, that was a break thru for the 2 of us. Unfortunately, I think that's how the convo went because I was a tad inebriated.
The work week was fine, nothing that I'm going to get into here at this moment in time. Thursday I was trying to recruit people to go to Hopkins Plaza to see Raheem DeVaughn. To all of those you who are on the fence, give this brother some love. He performs with an energy and skill level that is unparalleled. To those who don't know, take a male version of Mary J. Blige and toss in a huge helping of Marvin Gaye, and that's Raheem. Trust me, if you like Marvin Gaye in any capacity, cop this album.
The concert was a lot of fun. Glueman and I hit the scene much to the dismay of Mrs Kojak ( "Damn you! You KNOW I like Raheem!") I really wasn't sure she'd want to see him, plus in the back of my mind I realized that back in the day you NEVER took your girl to Hopkins Plaza. If you did, it would be like asking for a slap upside the head or gettin' the coochie cut off from you. Why? Because you'd be breakin' your neck looking at all of the scenery. So Glueman and I are chillin', laughin', jokin'. The sites are lovely of course, and then Raheem hits the stage. I can't go into a lot of detail about the performance, it was great; even especially when he brought the homeless man up on the stage to dance. What I wanted to point out was the difference between us Baltimorians and Washingtonians. Raheem was calling to the audience for that audience participation. He got. Had he tried that in DC, he would have been disappointed. I think its the fact that folks from both cities like to profile, but Washingtonians profile not only based on "I'm looking good", but also on "I wonder can anyone watching me get me an even phatter job than I already have." Now, when you have that mentality, you can't really let loose because your next potential boss may be watching. So when a perform says "Sing wit' me!", in DC all you hear is the chirping of Blackberrys.
The "Huh?" Effect of The Day: I was working with the new guy setting up some system. He looked wiped out so I asked him what was wrong. "I was up until 2 in the morning." he said with a yawn. "Oh?" **Shit, Kojak....don't ask, don't ASK!** "Why were you up so late?" **damn I hope he says he was working on getting some coochie or watching some porn....** "Well my superhero team needed me. I couldn't just leave them hanging."
Internet game. A fucken internet game. You loose sleep to play with some other jerk-offs for an Internet game.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
But scaring white men is different. I say that because we as men (most of us at least) are taught that it is weak to show fear to or of another man. Period. Regardless of size, age, whatever. So when another man gets edgy around me, instinctively I exploit it. Not just because I'm an asshole, but because he should know better than to cower in front of me even though I am no where near you nor have I said a word to you. I decided not to exploit it this morning because it was so pitiful. Here's what happened:
I had to drop off a book that was WAY over due. I pull into the back of the library which is where the drop off slot is. I'm not the only one there. A man in his early 50's, late 40's is in his car about to get out to drop off a book as well. As soon as he looks in his rearview mirror and sees me, his door begins to close back and he coincidentally gets a phone call. I proceed to the drop box and drop off my book. When I get back into my car, then he gets out and gives me a fake or "thanks for not beating the shit outta me and taking my car" smile and does his thing. Now the fear was obvious, but 2 things come into question: 1) what the fuck was the cell phone about? Was he gearing to call the popo just in case I did step to him 2.) what thug goes to the library to jump somebody? "Yeah, son. Imma head over to the library and jack somebody's ass. The library son...that's what's poppin'". How that sound? Gimmie a break.
Damn that was long-winded AGAIN! Sorry, Mama.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
The flight down there was a little rough, but tolerable. I will confess too...then brother was broke. I had to give a family member an emergency loan but Glueman spotted me down there. When I got off of the plane, I ran over few people to get to a restroom bigger than a 3x3 coffin. I headed to baggage claim. I waited. And waited. And waited....In the course of all that waiting I observed a dad and his son having a dispute. Poor guy. It was obvious that he was a divorced dad who only sees his son periodically and was trying to enforce some disipline. Damn was he failing. Josh (age 9ish) wasn't having it. He didn't give him the finger or anything, but he was truly dissing his pops. I thought the man was gonna cry. Of course, Brother Kojak had to intervene. While I was on the phone with Glueman giving his my status, he mentioned food. My response "Oh hell yeah I'm ready to eat. Man, I could eat just about anything right now and put it on the barbeque. YOU know how they do down here! As a matter of fact, I might just eat this little kid standing next to me." Me and Glueman thought it was funny, but I think Josh pissed on himself. I think dad overheard, and graciously told Josh to come on dragging him somewhere across the Baggage Claim. Soon after I realized that I was at the wrong carousel in the first damn place. Retard.
At the rather plush hotel I met up with Glueman, his sexy co-worker AuNatural, and this drunk auditor named Mike. I ordered the Big Ass Nachos and went to town saying little, eating a lot. The next day I rocked a dark brown with blue pinstripped suit to politck with the decision-makers. It went fairly well. Its hard to tell when you impress some people and when you don't, especially this crowd who always have someone under suspicion. The only way that I may have made a favorable impression was by folks remembering my name. I made out prety well with that.
A few thoughts about the ATL: not my kind of city. I don't like big, small towns (except for Austin) and I'm pretty homophobic. Worst of all, I hate seeing so many homeless people. Not because they scare me or I'm intimidated by them, its because in my teens I used to do a lot of volunteer work for the homeless. Also given the facts that 1.) Atlanta is probably the wealthiest city in the South 2.) they are trying to propose an anti-panhandling law that would arrest a beggar the 3rd time he/she is caught by the police. Ok, instead of having the police search out panhandlers instead of real criminals why don't they propose to get these people some place to fucken live???
My trip ended with a bang literally as I was disembarking the plane. My bag accidently swung backwards and knocked the shit out of this little old lady. I apologized, but when I turned around she had this look on her face like she was gonna whoop my ass. I got gully on her ass and said "I SAID I was sorry! Damn!"
Alright...there's more, but I've gotten a complaint here and there about my lengthy entries. Hey, don't y'all know y'all are cheap therapy for me?