tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83137722024-03-14T00:36:42.870-04:00Brother Kojak!!I'm a dicotomy of self. The example of self-irony. I am wise, yet ignorant. Chivalrous yet chauvinistic. Life altering problems don't bother, but grit on me in the streets and we'll have a problem.
I would be considered in the "hip" generation by most baby boomers which is somewhat accurate. I am defined by/define the hip hop culture as the culture that embraces individuals, not idioisms or set ideals.
I talk A LOT....ergo the existence of my blog.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.comBlogger232125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-73474649595789609502007-01-28T14:48:00.000-05:002007-01-31T05:36:27.337-05:00I'm Brother Kojak...The Wife BeaterIt's been awhile since I posted.<br />I've been busy buying a new car and trying to find a job. I guess most people try to find a job first but I'm not most people. I'm different. Of course most people who are married help each other out. I don't. In fact, I pimp my wife(MS Kojak). She pays the mortgage and all the bills. In fact, I even had her pay my over $300 cell phone bills because I like to talk to the ladys, if you know what I mean. I have her pay my cell phone bill and I hardly ever call her. By the way, I have a new car, Ms. Kojak still drives her old falling apart car.<br /><br />Of course Ms. Kojak knows better than to argue with me. I'm a big man and during our marriage I've had to knock her head around many times. She forgets that I can do whatever I want whenever I want. She's called the police a couple of times and I have even been arrested. But that don't stop me from hitting her. All I have to do is beat her up in front of little Kojak (He's got to learn how to treat a woman), then I take little Kojak away from Ms. Kojak and I take him to my mother's place. That way I can keep little Kojak away from Ms. Kojak so that she suffers even more. If Ms. Kojak goes to my mother's place, my mother calls the police to keep Ms. Kojak away from little Kojak. My mom knows the laws and she supports me in everyway, especially when it comes to beating and putting Ms. Kojak in her place.<br /><br />In fact, just this last Thursday, I had to put Ms. Kojak in her place. Ms. Kojak works all night long and tries to get some sleep during the day, of course if I think it's ok. Because I'm a big man and can do whatever I want. Well, Ms. Kojak wakes up and gets ready for work. She then tells me that I had to clean dog shit that my dog left in the basement. I just gave her a look like if she's crazy telling me what to do. She started reminding me about my responsibilities when it comes to the dog. I then gave her my answer. I pushed her hard and she started to lose her balance. I then grabbed her by her hair and dragged Ms. Kojak across the floor. You should have heard her cry. I then started kicking her across the floor real hard. Good thing she wasn't pregnant because I would have kicked her hard in the stomach because I don't want any children with her anymore. By the time I was finished with her I left her all bruised up. I also left a large scratch on her face. I spent so much time beating her that we lost track of time. She was late for work. She better not let that happen again because she's got to pay all the bills so that I can eat, have place to sleep, and basically pimp my way around. Little Kojak was able to see all this and learn how a big man should treat his wife. When he gets older and learns about the ladys, I'll teach him some more. For example, a big man like me can have many girlfriends while being married. I can have sex with anyone I want and Ms. Kojak better keep it to herself unless she's willing to go a couple of rounds with me. In fact, I can spend a couple of nights away from home and she better not even dare ask me where I've been. And when I do decide to come back, that house better be clean or else I'll mop the floor with her. Anyways, getting back to last Thursday. I took little Kojak to my mom's place so that when Ms. Kojak returns home after working all night 12 hrs plus, she would come back home to find the house empty without little Kojak. I did that to teach her not to mess with me Brother Kojak. I even let little Kojak call her after a day has gone by, to remind her what she's missing.<br /><br />That reminds me. I don't just beat up Ms. Kojak. I also like to beat up little Kojak too. I know he's only 9 years old but he's got to learn some respect. All I have to do is call out his name loudly and you should see him get all nervous and tremble. Sometimes he's so scared of me, he has to beg me to let him go pee. I really love that boy! I'm going to beat him up so that he can grow up to be a strong man like me.<br /><br />The only other thing on my mind is getting back into school because my last degree is going nowhere fast. It's a shame I can't be as successful as Ms. Kojak. Well she's paying all the bills so who cares. I've been thinking about going to law school. I'm wondering though, if my prior arrest as a wife beater might interfere with that idea. It better not or Ms. Kojak got's some slapping coming her way. That would be nice if I could go to law school and become important like Ms. Kojak. So far I'm good with the ladys but if I was a lawyer with all that money, I wouldn't need Ms. Kojak anymore to pay my bills. I could then get my own place and have all kind of women.<br /><br />Well I'm kind of getting tired of typing because my fingers our sore. Probably from all the slapping I gave Ms. Kojak last Thursday night.<br /><br />I know in the past we have been doing TTTT. Instead I think I will post everytime I decide to beat up Ms. Kojak or little Kojak. I know you monkeys would rather read about my latest boxing matches than read stupid stuff I've put up so far.<br /><br />And if any of you monkeys like beating up women too, please leave your comments on my blog.<br />So please check back often to see if there is more wife or child beatings going on in my life.<br /><br />Brother Kojak, the real big man!Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-33463633704323225352007-01-12T06:37:00.000-05:002007-01-12T09:52:43.964-05:00I Can't Believe It<a href="http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c242/brotherkojak/PH2007011000913.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 320px;" alt="" src="http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c242/brotherkojak/PH2007011000913.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's hard to believe that the hardest garment to get in this city is anything with the color Purple. No, not Whoopi Goldberg and them, the actual color purple. Today is Spirit Day in B-more and damn it you wouldn't believe it. I took the Offspring to get a fake out jersey for him and a cheap-ass Raven's coach shirt for me. HOWEVER, there was no purple to be found. The Offspring; poor kid. He's so clueless sometimes. We found a nice shirt with purple <em>in it,</em> but it wasn't a Ravens shirt and it was a tad big. He wasn't feeling it, so he might be assed out as being one of the few kids sans purple today. Uh oh. I have 2 young jerseys, but I'm not rockin' either one of them because my physique is all banged up and I am now a jersey snob. I can no longer bring myself to wear a replica jersey.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> Priorities.</div><div> </div><div>So I'll be rockin' the Passionate Power Purple shirt and tie. There may be pics....probably not. But what there will be pics of is any great bastardization of UB's campus in purple.</div><div> </div><br /><br><br /><br><br /><img src="http://www.foxbaltimore.com/cms/images/large-6pJhQaSdvjsLI8b.jpg?528220389"> </src><br /><div>BTW, the included pic is NOT from the local paper, but from the Washington Post. THE WASHINGTON POST. Here is the greatest season of the Raven's short history and the paper doesn't even pics of how the city is ablazed in purple. Hmmmm....and they wonder why readership is down in the City That Reads.</div>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1167976363890866692007-01-05T00:14:00.000-05:002007-01-05T01:27:28.016-05:00Life After Death<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >The hook from "Royalty" by Gangstarr</span><br /></span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> Wherever I go</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> I want to take nothin less than the best</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> Whatever I choose, I choose to do</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> I have to stand out from all the rest</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> Whatever I do, wherever I go</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> I want to take nothin less than the best</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> Whatever I choose, I choose to do</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"> I just wanna stand out from all the rest</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Right after me posting about the death of hip hop as we know it, I have to tell you an experience to bring the soul of it as it lives in me, to you.<br /><br />Ever heard the old 80's song "Last Night A DJ Saved My Life"? Last night, a dj did save my life, with hip hop. How ironic the dj was me as I'm dealing with the burial of the previous, tumultuous year and the birth of the next one.<br /><br />For me, this is the year to end the confusion, the unrest. To once again wake up saying "Whoever ain't ready for me better get the fuck outta the way; this is my time."<br /><br />Right after the passing of the old year, I felt myself in the same psychological abyss that has impeded me from being me and growing me.<br /><br />But last night, **laugh** that weak shit went out the window. It was <span style="font-weight: bold;">ME</span> who saved my own life (so to speak) before it was too late with one of my support systems from days past.<br /><br />Hip Hop.<br /><br />I<br /><br />the dj<br /><br />the emcee<br /><br />playing music that was there for me and to a degree by me revealing itself thru every riff<br /><br />repeat and drop by DJ Priemere<br /><br />the steady flow of Biggie Smalls<br /><br />a vicious series of cuts followed by shout outs from DJ Green Lantern.<br /><br />Its enough to blow your mind, man. For real....<br /><br /><br />Why? Because! Man, you have to look at it from a symbolic sense. KRS-One dropped the knowledge a few days ago confirming the death of hip hop as we knew it. Why? Because of the death of the godfather of hip hop, James Brown (peaceful journey). The art of sampling started with him. The beats started with him. The koolness started with him. Goddamnit, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">bling </span>started with him! Man! Ain't that some shit??? One man spurnned an entire culture! AND...when did he die? <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">On Christmas night!!!!! </span>Let me repeat that.......<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">on Christmas night. </span>The symbolism in that is just too deep to be a concidence y'all. Shall I break it down?<br /><br />Ok.....<br /><br />Jesus (the Savior of Christians) was "born" on December 25. Now we all know this is a lie. We know that this was the day chosen by European Christians to commemorate the birth of Christ because this time of year is bleak and depressing. Ancient documentation shows that Christ was actually born around mid-October. What I'm basically getting at is that we really don't know when Christ was born; nor do we know when hip hop was born. Ya feel me?<br /><br /><br />Stay with me here. Don't jump to conclusions just yet.....<br /><br />Alright....James Brown, the godfather of hip hop died on Christmas.; his death on a day that symbolizes the birth of a Savior. And on that day, December 25, 2006, so died hip hop as we know it. The catch is, that means that The Death invokes a rebirth. A rebirth of a culture in transition.<br /><br />Now to clarify, I'm not putting the hip hop culture on the same plane as Christianity. But from a philisophical comparison, they are both movements. Christianity started as the religion of slaves and peasants. Hip hop was donned as "Jungle Bunny Nigger Music" by the Klan. But both have risen to new (and sometime dangerous) plateaus. After Christ rose from the dead, the miraculous story was passed on by "witnesses" and so grew the embracing by both the emperor and the slave. Hip hop has grown from that stigma to the music that can be played and enjoyed by all on many different levels (just like Christianity has the different types of denominations).<br /> But the question is what will happen in the rebirth? Will there be a Mile Davis to bring "The Rebirth of Cool"? Will hip hop die at its own hands like ragtime died when Scott Joplin passed away (peaceful journey)? Is it going to be a resurrection of something deep and beautiful or is it going to be the birth of a huge money making minstral show?<br /><br />I<br />as long as I am blessed with breath<br /><br />will bear witness to the rebirth 'cause it was me who was the crowd moved by Erik B and Rakim<br /><br />it was me who gerry-rigged the component set to listen to Mack James on AM 630<br /><br />it was me who "walked on ice, but never fell, I spend my time in a plush hotel..."<br /><br />it was me who watched helplessly as one Crew destroyed spokesman of the other all for the sake of which coast had more juice<br /><br />it has been me<br /><br />it will always be me<br /><br />just as it is you<br /><br />and you<br />and you...<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">and you...<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">and you.....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song List That Brought it All Together</span><br />Royalty by Gangstarr<br />Everyday Struggle by Biggie Smalls<br />My Life by Kool G Rap<br />Bring It Own by Jay Z (featuring Sauce Money)<br />Spottieottiopolis by Outkast<br />A Story to Tell by Biggie Smalls<br />Return by Self Scientic<br />Liberation by Outkast (featuring Eryka Badu and Cee-lo)Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1166048725294979242007-01-02T16:15:00.000-05:002007-01-02T06:08:13.440-05:00Hip Hop Is Dead (?)Hi y'all! What's poppin'? What's been going on with me? The typical; a cycle of interviews with no results. I think I have got to hold the record for going on an interview and coming up empty handed.<br /><br />My cousin AreYouGay is having her annual Kwanzaa party on the day of Nia. I wonder is the hot South American gonna be there again? I want to ask AreYouGay, but I wouldn't know how to ask. My real issue is what am I going to do creative. Last year I read one of my blog poems, but I haven't written a poem in I don't know how long (oh wait. Its been about a year. duh) and I'm in no mood to write one now. I might just bust out a kareoke machine which brings me to the topic. There is a song that I've been trying to download for a couple of years and I finally found it. Its "I Love You" by Mary J Blige featuring Smif N Wessun. I GO FOR that song! That was the joint back in the day, but in hindsight, it is the song or at least the group that probably has lead hip hop to its cultural critical care bed. You see, there is a movement that is calling for the death of hip hop and its not lead by Christian Right or Mini-van driving moms. Its led by Gen Y'ers who are sick of the fakeout thuggery, braggidoccio about bitches and hos, and the pleathura of Dirty South Dummies. This is disturbing for us Gen X'ers because this is the music culture we grew up with. There are some kats who are doing their thing like Jean Grae, Common, Self Scientific, Dead Prez, Mos Def, and so on. But the overwhelming majority of so-called hip hop artists represent stereotypes that we black people don't need. <br /> But back to Smif N Wessun, they were probably one of the 1st underground groups to do a collabro with a pop star. Although the effort is a good one, it was a start of things to come. Now a singer HAS TO have a rapper in the song. Rap's crossover and success into pop was at the expense of hip hop. There always has been a difference between the two. Rap is pure expression, hip hop is the expression plus the message. Over time, people have explored this and some rappers have exploited it. The first one to do this was Master P. All of his work was considered hip hop because of its underground nature. But when the masses started listen and buy, Master P and the entire Southern contingent lost their minds. Extravagance grew to it current obsurdity with Lil' John and a host of others. Not just to blame the Southern rappers; some East Coast kats are guilty of the same antics like Jay-Z and Fabolus. So now, hip hop has taken black people back with these modern day minstral shows. <br /> However, now the same kats who brought the game up in the first place are leading the march to kill the monster hip hop has become. One album that blatently states this is Nas's new album "Hip Hop is Dead". Cop that. It may be the beginning of the end.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1167730830572527492007-01-02T04:30:00.000-05:002007-01-02T05:50:41.436-05:00Good Party: Tru Skool Style/ Bad Party: The Haters BallHappy New Year's to all of you. Hope your holidays were great. Mine were fine; nothing to brag about, but good nonetheless. I have a post like this pretty much every year, my New Year's Experience. This year is gonna be a little different. Yes my good people, we are gonna juxtapose a good party in comparison to a bad one. Last month, I went to the best house party I've ever been to in my life. Here is why it was the best:<br /><br /><ol><li>2 different djs spinning records from hip hop, r&b, 80's, 90's, and reggae.</li><li>food: chicken wings, salad, rolls, shrimp cocktail</li><li>beverage: you name it, it was there.<br /></li><li>crowd: 4:1 ratio (men/women). Not great numbers, but in a party with this type of music, it was impressive</li><li>duration: party lasted until about 5.</li><li>memorobilia: 47 pics taken</li></ol><span style="font-weight: bold;">NOW...</span>as usual, I set my self up for a nice New Year's Eve. Place to stay and research for what was going on in town. For the 1st time in years I was going about it solo but I was ready. I figured I should be around friends so I called WhatAboutMe to see what was poppin' in DC. There were 2 options. We could either go to the Bohemian Caverns restaurant grand opening and enjoy open bar, buffet and 3 dance floors for $50 or go to a house party in Northeast. We chose the latter.<br /><br />Collosal mistake.<br /><br />We chose the house party because a house party is usually bang or bust. Given that this couple had a party a few weeks ago that was pretty good, we took our chances. I was to meet the peeps over there. It was raining and unfortunately I had to park about 2 blocks away. I didnt wear my all purpose coat from the Devil because I wanted to look cute. (I'm paying for it now with a scratchy throat) So I'm in my 70's leather hustling up the street. I walk on the door, wow. Nice. Crib. The door was frosted glass with arch. One of the walls was exposed brick and in the dining room were matching built-in glass display cases. Nice. Real nice.<br />The 1st mistake of the party was that it was too splintered. The house was big; (shared by 4) there was a group of about 7 in the kitchen. Upstairs was the smoking room; there were about 4 people in there. On the top floor there was a chic laying on the floor alone chatting on a laptop. In the dining room was a laptop hooked up to some speakers playing mp3's with Media Player. Getting into the kitchen, I soon realized why everyone was in the kitchen; THERE WAS NO DAMN FOOD MAN! Yes....a party, with little to no food. The hostess had some nachos and salsa. In the oven wasn't some buffalo wings or even pigs-in-a-blanket. No, sista girl was baking some cranberries and bree wrapped in pastries. What the fuck is bree? Dude, do you not know I've been representin' B-more for years? What the fuck? I found out bree is some kinda uppity cheese.<br /><br />Oh God.<br /><br />Media Player. There is nothing wrong with playing music from a computer for a party, but uhh....why hit repeat if you have tons of music saved to the laptop? It was bad enough listening to undancable 80's music, but to hit the repeat button halfway thru the next song? Come on! Ugh!<br /><br />Then it was almost midnight. The hostess herded us upstairs to watch the ball drop where I heard WhatAboutMe's friends say one of the most triflingest things to end the year: "Damn, that ain't Dick Clark. They got puppet strings connected to him. That's Howdy Dowdy." What an asshole. So the ball drops and hugs and kisses are exchanged. Then I realized something; oh shit, I'm buzzed. Why?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Because there was no gaddamn food, man!!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">One sustains a buzz when food is not there to absorb it. Plus I was just sitting around instead of dancing or something. I had a rum and coke, and a psuedo-martini. Buzzed. This was actually a bad thing because I wanted to get the fuck outta there. Now I was stuck for another hour. Shit. So at this point, I figured me and WhatAboutMe can make the party by gettin' our stupid on. That worked great for a while, until 2 of the girls who were in the kitchen came to join us. Let's call them Shleprock and Droopy. (No, Shleprock is a dated reference. Change that to Debbie Downer. ) We're laughin' and I decide to be a gentleman and let them in on the convo. Bad idea. They both just kinda smiled. When asked where they were from they replied "Baltimore." What? Wassup?!?! East side or West side?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Debbie Downer: </span>West side.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Droopy: </span>East side.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>Ahhh! East side! You must be gangsta!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Droopy: </span>Well, I'm from there, but now I live in College Park.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>Oh! Let me guess, you went to U of Md, graduated, but never left the area.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Droopy: </span>Riight!<br />(<span style="font-style: italic;">All smile)<br />(Silence, still smiling)<br />(More Silence...then the trumpet in the background:"wooomp, wooooooom")<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>Uh....so, Miss Lady (indicating to DD), what do you do?*<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Debbie Downer: </span>What do I do?<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span></span>Yeah, bitc...yeah, man! I mean what do you do? For a living? To eat and shit? Ya know?<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Debbie Downer: </span>Oh! Well, I.....I'm....(looking at Droopy)..it's...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>You just ain't working now. Got it.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Debbie Downer: </span>Yeah.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>Yeah.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Droopy: </span>Hello all you happy people.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(wooomp, wooooooom!)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></span><font>Now I'm blown. Just blown, but the liquor is still on me. Droopy and Debbie Downer walk off and DJ MoonRisesSunSets and WhatAboutMe sat and looked at each other pitifully. "What the fuck is bree?" I asked as the hostess went upstairs. People started getting their coats and rolling out. We quickly followed suit as the music turned off before we could even get our coats. It was 1:45. 1:45 and a New Year's Party is over??? Ugh. So here is the 2nd portion of the juxtaposition:</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><ol><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><li>Computer playing 80's.</li><li>food: nachos, salsa, bree and shit<br /></li><li>beverage: you name it, it was there.<br /></li><li>crowd: 1:1 ratio , but Droopy and Debbie Downer made the rest of them look bad.<br /></li><li>duration: party lasted until about 1:45.</li><li>memorobilia: 4 pics taken</li></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></ol><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>What did we learn? Not a damn thing. Well, we did learn that when in doubt, do it your damn self. That party was so lame we are seriously considering having a If Your New Year's Eve Sucked Make-up Party. Stay tuned.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">*it is always bad to ask someone from B-more what they do for a living as a good portion of people there are either out of work, are from job to job, or just don't do shit. </span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1159679250915567202006-11-28T23:10:00.000-05:002006-11-28T09:16:12.333-05:00The Blogger.com SodologistRemember when I mentioned the now defunct www.emptybowl.com? Well NeighborGirl is now 2 or 3 reviews from being the proprietor of emptycan.com to review sodas. Check out this chat and this email. Its the beginnings of an empire I tell ya!<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: hey</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: hey</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: wassup</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: not much</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: I'm a little lit, just a little</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: I sent you an email earlier, before I had a drink</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: ok.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>let <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"></span></span>me go check it out</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: what you drinking?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: jack and DietCherryVanillaDrPepper</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: that's the only way diet cherry vanilla dr pepper tastes good, with jack, otherwise it's some nasty shit, but the liquor makes it tolerable and a little nifty</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: oh!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>how did that taste?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: nifty....very good</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: I don't, however, feel sophisticated, I read an online study about how beverage makers are adding flavors to their soda as an attempt to market to women and their sophisticated tastes</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: oh?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: like DietCherryVanillaDrPepper?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: after drinking the dietcherryvan... crap I just feel normal, and a little like Dundalk, where they need all those extra flavors to amuse themselves</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: so their you have it, sophistication comes out rather low-class in the end</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: lol</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: excellent break down</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: not bad for half lit if I do say so myself</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: liquor must make me a hay philosopical or something</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>NeighborGirl</b>: philosophical</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Me</b>: nah....I can contest to that though</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:geneva,arial;">So remember that crap I told you I read about the beverage companies<br />adding flavors that appeal to women to make them feel more<br />sophisticated? Today I drank a Diet Black Cherry and French Vanilla<br />Pepsi Jazz and it was soooo sophisticated you will never believe what<br />it tasted like- Pepsi and cough syrup. It was just like back in the<br />day when I was 15 and I'd sneak a little of my dad's whiskey in a glass<br />and mix it with shit trying to feel grown-up. Good old Pepsi beat me<br />to the punch, I never thought to mix in cough syrup with my soda and<br />whiskey. How's that for sophistication! I hear the Diet Strawberries<br />and Cream Pepsi Jazz tastes like Pepsi and Jolly Ranchers.<br /><br />I'd continue this email but I have to go sit in a leather arm chair,<br />puff on a cuban, and drink my Pepsi and cough syrup so I can feel<br />important.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </p><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"></span>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1164553016333319412006-11-26T09:54:00.000-05:002006-11-28T16:26:44.163-05:00Tom Was Little This Year (And Other Useless Internet Banter)I hope you all had a wonderful, productive, festive, fulfilling Thanksgiving. (Actually, I could give a fuck, but I figured I'd say something. How was mine? Why...thank you for asking! **<strong>rolling eyes</strong>** Mine was fun, I would give you the full blast blog entry for it, but come to find out from my gallop poll that it REALLY wasn't THAT funny or at least won't translate to text very well. The synopsis:<br /><ol><li>AreYouGay? Really is gay, but still considers that normal. </li><li>It is inappropriate to make fun of the dead and disabled, but damn its funny.</li><li>Kids joke books still suck. I suppose if you are an author of such material your comedic career has hit rock bottom. (Coming to the children's section of a Black bookstore near you...."Knock Knock...It's Kramer!!!" by Michael Roberts)</li><li>The family has a new Thanksgiving tradition of re-enacting Thanksgiving dinners from the movies. This year's feature: The Color Purple. "I looked up and saw you, and I knowed dey is a God."</li><li>I HATE those broadcast text messages sent from someone's phone. One damn near ruined my Thanksgiving.</li></ol><p>Hmmm....Today is Tuesday. Back in the day, this would have been a prime opportunity to do Tell The Truth Tuesday. Given that no one cares any more, fuck it. And that would have been the theme too. Your Thanksgiving....beautiful or dutiful? Reply if you want, who cares...</p><p>Did you know that Jay Z has about 4 different Greatest Hits albums? How can that be? Isn't there an industry standard on the number of Greatest Hits you can have? Oh...wait. no there isn't. I think between Jimi Hendrix and The Eagles that shit is out the window. Here is the songlist from Jay Z's most recent greatest hits joint:</p><p>1.Can I Get A / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">This is a perfect song to start off this list because I can't stand any of the pop songs by Jay Z. This one is no different.</span></p><p>2.Hard Knock Life / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">This is the worst one of all. Sucks more than a ho in Singapore.</span></p><p>3.Wishing On A Star / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Don't know this one or it sucks so bad I blocked it out.</span></p><p>4.Can't Knock The Hustle (FT Mary J. Blige) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ehhh! Its aight.</span></p><p>5.Ain't No Nigga (FT Foxy Brown) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">This was Jay Z's first aired song. When I heard this I said "Hmmm. Now there's a one hit wonder if I ever saw one." Fancy that.</span></p><p> </p><p>6.Ride Or Die / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Not sure if I know this one or not. If its the one produced by Timbalan then its ok at best.</span></p><p>7.Brooklyn's Finest (FT Notorious Big) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Anything with Biggie is tight. Recognize.</span></p><p>8.Imaginary Player / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Don't know this one.</span></p><p>9.Friend Or Foe / Jay-Z</p><p> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Don't know this one either.</span></p><p>10.Friend Or Foe 98 / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Don't know this one either either.</span></p><p>11.More Money More Cash More Hoes / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">cheeseball to the max.</span></p><p>12.City Is Mine (FT Blackstreet) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Pop goes the weasel.</span></p><p>13.Reservoir Dogs (FT Blackstreet) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Pop goes the weasel part dos</span>.</p><p>14.I Know What Girls Like (FT Puff Daddy & Lil' Kim) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">You're kidding, right? Puff is an album killer.</span></p><p>15.22 Twos / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">This is one of those playa for life songs. Please.</span></p><p>16.Money Ain't A Thang (FT Jermaine Dupri) / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ok, now this is more like it. It's another play for life song, but at least the hook is catchy.</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">[Jay Z] </span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Bubble hard in the double R flashin the rings </span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">With the window cracked holler back </span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Money ain't a thang</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;"> [Jermaine Dupri] </span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Jigga I don't like it if it don't gleam clean </span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">And to hell with the price cause the money ain't a thang</span> </p><p>17.Dead Presidents II / Jay-Z </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Name sounds familiar, not sure that I know this one.</span></p><p>18.Regrets / Jay-Z</p><p></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Definitely don't know this one</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#000000;">So it seems as if I'm either not a big Jay Z fan or I'm just an old cruddy and don't know nothing. They don't have any of the songs I like like "Bring It On", "You Don't Know" , "Jigga What". I guess I'll just wait for the box set.</span></p><p> </p><p>I know its late, but the phrase of the day/Wednesday is "Phat in the tail. " In use: “I don’t know how that girl can get in a size 8 jeans. She gotta be at least a size 10 since she so phat in the tail”.</p><p>Know it, use it, good bye! <style>i{content: normal !important}</style></p>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1164040994798378152006-11-20T11:27:00.000-05:002006-11-20T15:10:22.776-05:00Blogging SucksHey everybody. Remember me? Brother Kojak? The salty brotha who always has something to say yet nothing at all? huh? No, no. Not <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntZWapQ7L4o">Fonsworth</a>. That guy's a queer. I'm the brotha with the dreds...somewhat altheletic....no, no. Not Ricky Williams. He's all banged up....thinks he's a new jack hippie although I DO envy him for his <a href="http://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images/view?back=http%3A%2F%2Fimages.search.yahoo.com%2Fsearch%2Fimages%3F_adv_prop%3Dimages%26imgsz%3Dall%26imgc%3D%26vf%3Dall%26va%3Dricky%2Bwilliams%26fr%3Dyie7c%26ei%3DUTF-8&w=770&amp;h=770&imgurl=www.vocalcolor.com%2FRickyBig.jpg&rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.vocalcolor.com%2FRicky.html&size=48.5kB&name=RickyBig.jpg&p=ricky+williams&amp;type=jpeg&no=14&tt=13,249&oid=8fe4306b81237986&ei=UTF-8">abs and nipple rings</a>.<br /><br />No, I'm the kat that had the NFL Preview on the blog? Remember? Here are a couple of reminders:<br /><br /><a href="http://kojak2000.blogspot.com/2006/01/nfl-in-review-dallas-cowboys.html">http://kojak2000.blogspot.com/2006/01/nfl-in-review-dallas-cowboys.html</a><br /><a href="http://kojak2000.blogspot.com/2006/01/nfl-in-review-houston-texans.html">http://kojak2000.blogspot.com/2006/01/nfl-in-review-houston-texans.html</a><br /><br />Ahhh, yes! Now you remember. And to make matters worse, you ain't miss a damn thing. So what's been going on in the last month? oh nothing major....marriage is still a fiasco, no new gig (but at least I'm not unemployed), and I just got a new car with a crappy system. How you gonna sell a black man a car with a half-ass radio? That's absurd. Things I've learned about myself in the last month:<br /><br />1.) I was fishing around the internet, and found out that I used to have a website bookmarked called <a href="http://www.emptybowl.com">www.emptybowl.com</a>. Dude would critque cereal. Stupid idea, but man it came in handy in its own odd way. Sadly, it is gone.<br /><br />2.) I should leave the partying to the youngin's. I've haven't seen the goddess Heidi in weeks. <strong>**sigh** </strong><br /><br />3.) I start out 80% of my verbal stories as "...this girl I was messin' with..."<br /><br />4.) I lost about 12 pounds during Ramadan. I gained 15 pounds after that.<br /><br />5.) I would be doing a lot better in fantasy sports if I let a hot chic draft for me. That way, the other dudes wouldnt pick as well during the draft because they'd be watching her bounce up and down.<br /><br />6.) I will never be a fantasy sports commissioner again.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Let's start with my weekend. Believe it or not, it was eventful. Friday, 2 of TheOffspring's boys came over and I was asked to help out with that. We took them to dinner, the movies, and then for ice cream. 2 of them didnt go to sleep until about 2 in the morning. I woke up at around 5 to shake the weasel, and one of them (I found out the oldest and yet smallest one) dropped like a Collosus of a load in the toilet. I had to dump ACID down the damn drain man. Like he was holding that for weeks.<br /><br />So there was my sleep for the rest of the morning AND his Pops wanted to pick him up at 7:30 because he had a game. So that one left, and the other one wouldn't get up until about 10. So we went to IHOP. Sat down and got waited on, but after about 20 mins and 2 tables getting their food before we did, I threw $5 on the table and bounced. PISSED!! It wasn't racism or anything like that, just incompetence. So we went to Burger King across the street and ate chicken samiches. **rolling eyes** My mom called and asked if she could treat them to go-cart racing. I took them there, and on the last lap the other kid (YouTooOldForThat) damn near broke TheOffspring's ankle. TheOffspring was in the parking lane about to get out of the car when shorty ran into his cart. TheOffspring bent over in a weird way and I thought his ankle snapped. He was screaming (I think because he thought that it was going to snap) and I snapped at YouTooOldForThat not because I was mad at him, but because he was so careless....whenever they pitstopped before he had no problem stopping. But of course, when it counts, he smashed him. So both of them end up crying; YouTooOldForThat more so than TheOffspring. I had to give him a peep talk ALL the way to the house. Geez....sensitive.<br /><br />Sat. night I sat and watched a "Dexter" marathon on Showtime. That's a good show. Check it out if you have cable. I also ended up spilling carrot juice all over the carpet without realizing it. Great. In the morning, after eating some HOMEMADE breakfast grub and scrubbing out the carrot stain with pro strength Resolve like Cinderella, I finally ended up taking YouTooOldForThat home. The rest of the weekend was good too; pizza, beer, and a whole lotta none-ya-business!<br /><br />Don't expect another post no time soon. Blogging sucks!Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1160598586705920492006-10-11T16:25:00.000-04:002006-10-11T16:29:46.866-04:00TTTT: Late as UsualWith my sudden bordom with my blog, its really hard to get the Tell The Truth Tuesday out on time. So, it's a day late, but luckily not a dollar short. (wow...AND corny). So I have 2 TTTTs:<br /><br />1.) What is the incident that make you scream like a bitch?? For example, you at the family reunion and a spider lands on you and you go bananas.<br /><br />2.) Give us one time where you were late, shouldn't have been, everyone noticed, and you were just plain embarrassed .<br /><br /><br /><br />Go.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1159363923599865722006-09-27T09:25:00.000-04:002006-09-27T09:32:03.630-04:00TTTT: Tell The Truth Tuesday (even though its Wed)Ok, y'all we haven't done this in a while and its both of our faults. So let's get back on the wagon.<br /><br /><br />We all get them; some of us have enough will-power to refuse them, others of us just say fuck it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">INDECENT PROPOSALS</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I'm looking for 2 things here: name one indecent proposal that you refused, and another one that you accepted. They don't have to be sexual, but I know ALL of y'all have gotten the sexual ones. So when in doubt, go for the draws. I want a response from all my peeps please and yes, keep it anonymous. Go.<br /></div></div>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1158938158058601972006-09-22T11:15:00.000-04:002006-09-22T11:15:58.086-04:00Farfig....What????The next person I see who comes at me and touts that Farfegnuken shit, I’m gonna punch them slam in the face. Last night, my Farfegshitten landed me slam in a chain link fence on the highway. I was driving down Rt 97 in MD. One of the nicest highways in the state because of the few amounts of speed traps. I’m doing my thing when I notice the wheel begin to veer to the left. I slowed down to correct it, but when I did the car suddenly corrected itself and I went launching towards the shoulder. Only thru the Grace of God did I miss a light post but wore out the chain link fence. I unclenched my jaws (and my ass cheeks for that matter), let go of the steering wheel and rolled down the window. Good. I can get out if the door won’t open. But the door opened and I wobbled out. Up the highway I saw 2 vehicles pulled over. They must have called the poe-poe because one of them sat there until Trooper Friendly showed up. The first sentence out of my mouth was “Don’t worry, officer. Drinking and smoking were not involved, “ as I assumed the position.<br /><br />OfficerFriendly: What are you doing?<br />Me: Huh? Oh….nuffin’. I can tell you right now drinking or drugs were not involved.<br />OfficerFriendly: yeah. Don’t worry about that. Are you alright?<br />Me: Yeah, I’m fine (fire engine pulls up)<br />AAFD: You ok? Do you need to go to the hospital? Any injuries?<br />Me: No. No need for a hospital. Although my shoulder is starting….<br />AAFD: Ok greatgoodluckbye. (Speed off to the nearest Subway to eat fresh)<br />Me: Damn. (watching them speed off)<br />OfficerFriendly: Can I have your license and registration, please?<br />Me: Ok. (trying to remember if I’m legit as far as tickets, fines, and interstate warrants.) Got it right here.<br />OfficerFriendly: (After running my steelo) So what happened?<br />I explained to him what happened. While the AAFD and OfficerFriendly were there, I was on the phone with AAA. Funny…after the accident that’s the 1st thing that came to mind: Somebody get me the fuck outta here. About 20 mins. Pass and the tow truck shows up. But check this out, it wasn’t Bubba with a bad case of butt-crackitis or Willy Bo who talks so fast you can’t understand what the hell he’s sayin’…..<br /><br /><br /><br />It was my boy Deepak Manjeet?!?!?! Whoa! I have NEVER seen an Indian tow truck driver, let alone a Sikh. I was blown; life is just too damn wild sometimes. He puts the car on the bed and we roll out. After he left, I stood back and took a look at my “new to me” car. My little flashy Jetta with the boomin’ system and slick wheels and black paint looked like it got pistol-whipped by a massive piece of barbed wire. The current symbol of my life. Sleek and silkiness marred by a constant shit beating. The blessing is I walked away from it. Looking at the skid marks, I was about 3 feet away from a for real for real hospital stay. Thank God for that. (See? I told you guys you weren’t missing much. Ugh)Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1158774900659860472006-09-20T11:57:00.000-04:002006-09-20T14:10:13.856-04:00Another Reason I Ain't Shit #3<strong><em>This happened about 3 weeks ago and in my hiatus, I forgot to blog or mention it</em></strong><br /><br /><br /><br />So I get this call from an unknown number on the cell (I hate that) and its the Offspring's buddy's mother. She was inviting him over for a sleepover for her son's b-day. I said sure, but then it hit me....slam in the face..."self, this is the SMOKIN' hot mom from last year. The one who kept catching you staring at her. Yeah, her." So, as a barely responsible parent, I'm analyzing how I can drop this kid off, be cordial, and get the hell outta there. **snapping fingers** I got it!! I will take the Mother of Offspring. That way, if I stare too much, the ramifications are a week's worth of dirty looks.<br /><br />The kid gets all of his stuff together for the outing, and NumberOneStunna's direction's get me all hemmed up. She picks up the cell and says "I'll meet you outside." Great.<br />I swing a u-turn and nearly crash cause DAYYYYY-UM! she's outside in workout gear. Oh no, NOT the frumpy shit you see the busted ass mothers in the PTA and bake sales, but the Under Amour joints. holy cow. Ok fellas, let me describe this chic to you....take Vanessa Williams in her late 20's or early 30's, give her a sexy smile with a slight gap (I don't have a celebrity comparison), and the body of Jennifer Love Hewitt. Ta-dow. The top was tight and pink, with short silver bottoms that had the same pink colored stripe. I felt my left eye twitch while my mouth had a slight watering around the edges. "You gotta stop trippin'. Implement Phase II" I thought. Phase II was for BK to be a jackass; talking loud and obnoxious. I must have helped because she just gave me a weird look, a laugh and a shaking of the head. Mother of Offspring wasn't much help; she said hey and never even got out of the car. So to summarize, I get out of the car talkin' dumb shit, literally grab the kid and throw him at her, scoop up all his shit and put it in her arms, and then ball the hell outta there.<br />The next day I went to pick up the kid, and when NumberOneStunna answered the door, a total transformation. The hair was typed up in a rag and the workout clothes were now sweat pants and a tee. She still was bangin' though. Hmmm.....I wonder if she saw me drooling and twitching the day before?Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1158615411045815642006-09-18T17:07:00.000-04:002007-11-06T15:57:31.066-05:00Oh man! And so what did you miss<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9PnukgvyFVEjjmWRXf51jo8Q4klNwJPFNFHLKqiOwHXBMu3UulfRxoE96nCfa7O5DhcESseUISNWLPQmQGrxehUsMyF6oPKcqmfbjGXGxDLC3e5-2cDJHyVG7XUz0cZF9LZcwQ/s1600-h/telly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129834268614260626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9PnukgvyFVEjjmWRXf51jo8Q4klNwJPFNFHLKqiOwHXBMu3UulfRxoE96nCfa7O5DhcESseUISNWLPQmQGrxehUsMyF6oPKcqmfbjGXGxDLC3e5-2cDJHyVG7XUz0cZF9LZcwQ/s320/telly.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Sorry about the delays in blogging, but BK has been wrapped up in BK. I was telling someone the other day that I haven't blogged in a min. and she tells me "maybe its more interesting to live life than to blog about it. " Profound and shit. Here is a synopsis of what I've been focusing on, for better or worse:<br /><br />1.) stroking the salami<br />2.) fantasy baseball<br />3.) fantasy football<br />3.) the Offspring's football season<br />4.) The plight of the Underscores<br />5.) stroking the salami<br />6.) injuring the salami<br />7.) an overall state of jackassedness<br /><br /><br />1.) We're not going to get into that one too too much. You know the email address.<br /><br />2.) I got my ass kicked in fantasy baseball. I know baseball is not that popular, so I won't even go over the roster. I came in 4th place out of 8 with a score of 101-100-5. My 2 biggests mistakes: not getting Putz off of the wire, and trading Carl Crawford for Shea Hillenbrand, Kenny Rogers, and Mick Cappauano.<br /><br />3.) So early and yet so far away. I'm already in 2nd to last place and that's only because the guy in last place did so poorly last week. I have the only team that hasn't scored at least 100 points per game. My premiere players, Ronnie Brown and Cadillac Williams have a combined 2 touchdowns and 85 yards. Gonna be a long season fantasy-wise.....<br /><br />4.) It was bothering me that we weren't practicing and today I found out why. There seems to be a rift between our guitarist and our drummer. I don't know what it was, but what I do know is that he didn't want her in the band anymore and she said she wasn't comfortable around him. Too much drama for a non-paying gig thus far and all the while our bass player is still 3 weeks away from being homebound to India. Don't you just love happy fucken endings?<br /><br />5.) and 6.) I'm not going to go too deep into this, but I can tell you that too much activity without the proper external supplements WILL lead to injury.<br /><br />7.) I've been a jackass lately. In the sense that I'm not being considerate of the feelings of others. I want to blame it on stress, but I think I'm in the early stages of the Curmugeon Syndrome. I'm easily irritated and caring less and less about how abrasive I come off. I hope it's because of all the stress I'm putting myself thru. Either way, the people in my life are getting tiny pieces of hell.<br /><br /><br />What's today, Wednesday? Damn I just want to stay in the bed, chat on yahoo with some talk radio in the background. I like to have background noise when I sleep. Hmmm....Wednesday also means that its Heidi night. She has a new gig in DC that i have yet to see due to additional dumbness. I'm trying to save my pennies for a move, but I I think I need a fix. Heidi has that effect on me, like the exhale of a menthol cigarette; that slight minty burn that moves through your chest and elicits a quick feel of euphoria when completed.</div>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1155734617951982372006-08-16T09:23:00.000-04:002006-08-16T09:23:37.976-04:00The _______'sOh man! So I didnt post about the 1st practice for our band. The _____'s. The 1st practice was good considering it was the first one and it was a straight jam session. A bass, a sax, and guitar. I was pleased though; very pleased. I got antsy about the self-proclaimed FunkyFemaleGuitarist guitar player joining us, but knowing how wishy washy musicians are, I wasn't holding my breath for her to show up.<br /><br />But damnit, lo and behold if FunkyFemaleGuitarist did in fact show up. And like the DOC, it was funky enough. It seems like because of the make-up of the band we are going to be a jazz meets funk, funk meets jazz type quartet. Personally, I would love to add some hip hop into the mix. I have to work on my partners though; I seem to be the only true hip hop head.<br /><br />So what's next on the plate? We've decided on 2 grooves, practice, practice, then open mic nite. Boom.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1154708989869843872006-08-04T11:01:00.000-04:002006-08-04T17:09:38.760-04:00Weekly UpdateHey good people/monkeys. I don't have a ton of time so I'm going to give you guys a crappy summary of my week. It matches since my week was so crappy.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />1.) I saw "Rollbounce" on cable the other night. The movie really really entertaining. It was black kid bubble gum and a throwback style which I could relate to. BowWow did a pretty good job. The movie was really well cast too; there were a bunch of kids in the movie who we've all seen as child actors from just a few years ago. If you haven't seen it, check it out.<br /><br />2.) Keep the prayers/good vibes going for PrettyPussy(Cat). She is having some family issues that she's dealing with. Keep your head up girl. I'm proud of you because you are such a damn soldier.<br /><br />3.) Saw Heidi Tuesday. Yes, people. That is going to be my regular hang out on Tuesday. She and the band are doing a great job given the limitations. And check THIS shit out...she gave me a hug! I 'bout died. OOoh ooh! AND she talked to me after the 1st set too. She likes chocolate and happily married. **snapping fingers** Damn.<br /> The word on the street is getting out about the gig so if you are in DC you might want to check her out.<br /><br />4.) NeighborGirl and I had a convo that she deemed bloggable so I will regrettably share it with you. She asked me if I remember the little cupcakes that parents make for kids in school that had the little ice cream cones baked with them. I said barely but I remember moms bringing some cakes and cookies. Some were good, some were bad, but the worst one was the food <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> bought in one day. It was international day in junior high school and I decided to bring in some nachos and cheese. Why did I get the great idea to heat REGULAR cheese on the nachos? So when it was time to eat out international flavor, I had a big lump of nachos with cheese goo. Brilliant. To add shit on top of shit, I was determined to win the costume contest, so my mom took an old curtain, and cut it into the likeness of a pancho. The print was perfect, but uh...yeah. It was a damn curtain. I wore that shit, had my lumpy nachos, and STILL ain't win. Sweated my ass off walking home because my makeshift pancho's hotness factor. It sucked because it was cool walking there; like cool like the fonz, cool as in temperature. Walking home I remember it being hot as hell though; sweat running down my back to the crack of my hot, curtained ass. Got so bad that I just took the pancho off and put on my stinking gym shirt that was festering in my locker all week. So instead of being damn near faint, I decided to smell my stinking as the full 1.5 miles home. Again, brilliant.<br /><br />5.) I had a phone interview with one of the Big Six Thursday. Why they calling a nappy-headed brother like me from a Tier 3 school I don't know. I haven't heard anything from them so they must have changed their mind. The resumes are flying like propoganda during the Cold War. Its past that time to make a move.<br /><br />6.) I have a song stuck in my head....I can't get it out either. But it's really catchy.<br /><br />Don't have much to say<br />but I called you anyway<br />to kiss your<br />lips in<br />cyber-space.<br /><br />you have to hear it; smooooth. Bilal Salaam.<br /><br /><br /><br />This weekend calls for sun, fun, food, drinks, and maybe some lotion for my dry dizzat.<br /><br /><br />Peace out monkeys.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1153669295895908082006-07-23T11:35:00.000-04:002006-07-23T12:17:13.973-04:00Weekend In Review<p class="MsoNormal" style="">Weekend Notes<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><u1:p></u1:p><u1:p></u1:p>You know you’re repulsive/creepy when:<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">A woman walks into a restaurant; she avoids eye contact with you but knows you’re looking at her. (Description: skyscraper tall, shoulder-length auburn curly hair, and a caramel complexion) I would turn around every now and then to check her out, but one time I turned around and she went out the other door. I KNOW I wasn’t leering at her, but my looks were just enough to gross her to the point of going out the other door. Stuck on busted.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><u1:p></u1:p>Can there be ANY other show on tv that’s more masculine and testosterone injected than “The Contender”? I mean, “Monster Garage” and its rival show with the father and son are all up there, but when the shit hits the fan, do they actually fight? Hell no. That’s all staged. These guys on “The Contender” are going to fight regardless. And the only other form of hand-to-hand combat that’s more savage than boxing is Ultimate Fighting. The funny part is watching this show with the promo commercials for the World Series of Darts. Are you for real? Darts? Does anything else say fat, lazy, white-men-can’t-jump, barfly, no-job-having more so than a dude who can rock you at darts? (and yes, this includes all ethnicities) Hard to be any more of an unathletic athlete than that.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><u1:p></u1:p>Had another good practice with the Offspring today. Might have to get out there more because he is getting a beer belly. No, I ain’t give him no beer! Regardless, he’s learning and absorbs A LOT more than I anticipated. Should be some interesting results especially since he still doesn’t understand the rules of the game.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Did you know that Tom & Jerry is now Politically Correct? The Offspring and I saw one of the more inflammatory episodes where the maid in the house was the stereotypical big, fat, and black "Mammy" stereotype. At least, that's how it was when I was a kid. Tom was supposed to stay up and catch Jerry, but after a night of partyin' with the fellas the Pussy Lounge, he couldn't keep his eyes open. So Jerry proceeded to help Tom go to sleep so he could get is ass whopped by Mammy.<span style=""> </span>Back in the day, the cartoon would go something like “To-MAS!!!<span style=""> </span>Why you in hurh sleepin’ knowin’ dat mouse is runnin’ around in!”<span style=""> </span>Then Tom would get the broom upside his head.<span style=""> </span>Today we watched it, and she said something to the effect of “Thomas!<span style=""> </span>Why aren’t you attempting to catch that mouse? Don’t you mice are dirty and unsanitary?<span style=""> </span>Get that mouse!”<span style=""> </span>I DEFINITELY don’t mind a more positive spin on how my people are depicted, but Phylicia Rashad I wasn’t expecting.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><u1:p></u1:p><u1:p></u1:p>Looks like I’ve gotten my 1<sup>st</sup> White Girl Resume. She has potential given I grew in the suburbs too, but there are some other elements that may take some adjusting. The physical assets, however, are impressive. This resume deserves further review.<o:p></o:p></p> <pre><tt><i><u1:p></u1:p>NAME:<span style=""> </span>Renaissance<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><u1:p></u1:p>ADDRESS:<span style=""> </span>Super white suburb of the city where it’s safe.<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><u1:p></u1:p>HOBBIES: painting my nails<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>hiking in the forrest<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>identifying North American birds and bird calls<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>brushing my hair<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>going to museums<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><u1:p></u1:p>LIKES:<span style=""> </span>crackers and cheese<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>romantic movies<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>long walks<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>pop music and top 40<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>putting on lotion<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>trying on clothes- white women love to shop<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><u1:p></u1:p>DISLIKES:<span style=""> </span>coconut- white people hate coconut<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>fake nails<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>dry skin<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><pre><tt><i><span style=""> </span>spicy food<u1:p></u1:p></i></tt><o:p></o:p></pre><i><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" ><u1:p></u1:p>Best pic asset: <u1:p></u1:p></span></i><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5628/557/1600/IMG_0290.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5628/557/320/IMG_0290.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"> </v:formulas> <v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"> <o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"> </v:shapetype><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:297pt;"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/RICOSU~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/msoclip1/01/clip_image001.jpg" title="IMG_0290"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><br /><!--[endif]--></p>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1153621181413202822006-07-22T22:18:00.000-04:002006-07-22T22:19:41.430-04:00A Night With Heidi (Finally!)<span style="font-style: italic;">WARNING: This post is going to be very chatty and sporatic. We talkin' about my girl now so....yeah.</span> AND blogspot deleted my 1st 2 attempts.<br /><br />So I'm on the phone with NeighborGirl talking and looking for the jazz spot. I find it, peek thru the window and "Oh my God. That's Heidi! Gotta go..." and abruptly closed the celly shut. I walk in, and I must have had the stupidest look on my face because she immediately smiled at me. The convo with me, Heidi, and my innards went something like this:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>Hi! Thanks for coming.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>**stupid grin and mumbling something incomprehensible**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span>rwaaarrwwwwaw...RRRWWA!!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>**smile** How did you find out about the show?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>Uh....I got the thing, the uh...in da emails. Uh...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>You mean the flyer?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>Yeah, YEAH! Yeah, son...I mean...yes. I'm on your mailing list so I saw the flyer and decided to come out.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>Really? I have you on a mailing list? Wow....when did you get on the list?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>Well...I...uh...signed up for the list a while ago. <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>**smile** Oh ok. I thought you saw my myspace page.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> You have a myspace page? Damn I hate that site.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span> Yeah, I hate it too, but its so easy to use, it’s a good way for musicians to stay in touch, and I can make announcements without using the email broadcast. **shrugging shoulders**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> Great…now I have to create a page just so I can see what’s going on with YOU! **smile** As a matter of fact, I’ll make it when I get home.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span> Alright. I’ll check and see tomorrow. I’ll be looking for it. **smile**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> rwgrwgragarea---awwww-RWRARRR!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> YEAH! I mean, yeah. The thing is about the mailing list, I did it a while...let me just say it. I've been trying to keep tabs on your performances for a few years now, and this is the 1st one I've gotten to see since Blues Alley. <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Heidi:</span> **gasping** You remembered me from THAT performance? Wow, that WAS a long time ago! That is so sweet! **touching my arm**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> OhmyGodshetouchedme, ohmyGod. Reduce blood flow to lower extremities and take evasive measures! We gotta keep this dummy from tipping over!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> **gulp** Yeah I guess. It’s just really good to see you live again. **shifting nervously back and forward**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> **dizzat throbs twice**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span> Why, thank you! It's nice to know that I've kept a fan for such a long time.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> RWAWAAWWRRRR<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> Garsh. Umm...I'm going to let you finish setting up and I'll set...uh...over here...on this long this thing. BENCH! I'll be over here on the bench. Well, not like in baseball...this bench over here. Yeah. Uh,....have a great set.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span> Ok! See ya!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> Hurry to the bench! HURRY TO THE BENCH!!! We are loosing control of major bodily functions!!!<br /><br />So I quickly stammered to the bench to gather my bearings. I let my heart rate decrease by checking out my surroundings. It was a typical DC yuppie place; marble bar, tiny rest rooms, small kitchen to serve tapas, floor space for sitting not dancing, and a slightly elevated stage for performers. On the brick walls were pictures of people from the African and Indian Diaspora; REAL freaky. All of them had this blank stare into the camera that was truly unnerving. The crowd was mixed but dominated by lesbians, mostly manly women with a few lipsticks thrown in. <br /> The band then began to play; the music de jour were 2 heavy r&b’ed up jazz pieces, not bad. Not my thing, but I was listening. Then…<br />“Ladies and gentlemen, now making her way to the stage, the talented Miss Heidi Martin.” She walked on the stage and thanked us all for being there. After a little pow-wow on the stage, she began to sing “Black Ghandi”. Mmmm. That’s all I got to say about that. And as if her voice weren’t sexy enough, I noticed that she has this habit of humming/singing a song right before the band starts playing. Yummy. 3 songs were sung and we applauded the set. Heidi stepped off the stage, and sat right next….to ME! (Well, not exactly next to me; the bassist’s stepson was sitting next to me.) <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span> How was it? How was the sound?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>**looking at StepsonSon as if to say “dude, say something because I’m so tired of stammering.”<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step-sonSon:</span>Oh it was good. The guitar was a little strong, but still a good set.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>** looking at me waiting for my input. **<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>Well, yeah. He’s right. The place is small enough that it’s not that big of a deal, so it still sounds good. You might want to turn your mic up a bit though.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi:</span>Oh ok. Hmmm. I was wondering if you guys could hear me.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> Get that stupid grin off of your face, boy! Damnit! We need a distraction but she is right here. Shit!<br />**celly rings**<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> Ahh. I better take this…excuse me.<br /><br />So I take the phone call outside where there was more cigarette smoke than inside. When I get back in, I just realized that I had someone sitting next to me for the past couple songs. Hmmm! A rather out of place looking woman; she had a conservatism about her that screamed civil employee. But nosey me had to find out more.<br />I was going to put in the dialogue about this convo, but it’s too long and is of no great consequence. I mean not to say that she was boring, but this is a Heidi post, HEIDI POST! Actually, it was a good convo. She’s a teacher (boom) with classical voice training. She actually got a lunch lesson from Heidi the next day. <br />So the last set began and both my new friend and I were struggling to keep our eyes open during the ungodly hour for a weekday night. The set went great sharing commentary with my new buddy. The STUPID, mad kool part was when the set was over and they were about to wrap things up when some dude yells, “Do another one!” The bassist goes “What do you want to hear?” Then. Silence. Impulsively, your boy BK shouts, “ Do a poem! Do a slam!” At this point, Heidi was in her chair packing her music and getting ready to roll out. Then she looks up, dead at me and says, “you want me to do a poem?”<br />Now….let me digress for a second here. Y’all remember that Whitney Houston video “Run to You” when she is in the white dress singing all seductively and the wind blowing thru her hair? Yea, that was me envisioning Heidi saying to me:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="">Heidi: <span style="font-style: italic;">**breathlessly** You….want me…to do a poem…for you my sexy dredded Nubian king? To put your soul, your spirit at ease…from the safety and comfort of my warm welcoming bosom…. The fruits of my….</span></span></span><br /><br /><br />MEANWHILE BACK AT THE CLUB, everyone was looking at me, but luckily they couldn’t see my engorged dizzat….<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Innards:</span> Wake up, jackass and answer her!!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span>UH…YEAH! A poem.<br />**audience claps as Heidi agrees and steps to the stage**<br /><br />Oh man! You talking about tight! Heidi did a poem while the band did a jazz number in b flat. It was a great way to end the night. I got in my car, with the biggest, pumpkin-eating smile on my face. I called PrettyPussy(Cat) and I must have sounded like an idiot talking all fast like BandCampGirl and squealing like a mouse dragging a trap. No Man Points last Tuesday; I left them all on the bench thingy at the club. Fuck it. I shared time and space Heidi. **sigh**Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1153412009875526582006-07-20T10:26:00.000-04:002006-07-20T12:13:29.976-04:00Fucken Blogspotyou know, I should have known better than to try to blog and then save what I've written on here. I had 3/4's my experience with Heidi (http://www.heidimartin.com) typed up and ready to go, and I come back here today and the shit is gone. Back to the damn drawing board.<br /><br />Note to you monkeys: I do not hate white woman. Stop emailing me stupid shit. Find something else to get mad at like slavery in Africa, corrupt politicians, the piss crust around the rim of your toilet bowl. This blog is for my mental health and your entertainment. You don't like it, don't read it and peace out my face. Never been with a white chic and I'm not ruling it out; as a matter of fact I'm taking applications.<br /><br /><br />Yeah....let's do that. WHITE GIRLS ONLY! Send me sure personal resume and a best asset pic. Maybe its time to sample the vanilla milk.<br /><br /><br />**rolling eyes**<br />I'm out like whoa.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1153253332259239522006-07-18T16:07:00.000-04:002006-07-18T16:09:21.296-04:00No TTTT Today Because.....<div style='background-color:#99cccc'><P align=center><BR><BR><FONT face=Arial color=#ff99ff size=2> </FONT><FONT size=4><FONT color=#663333>This Summer...Tuesday Nights...begins JULY 18th!!!</FONT><BR></FONT><FONT color=#663333 size=6><STRONG>HEIDI MARTIN </STRONG></FONT></P><br /><P align=center><FONT size=5><STRONG><FONT color=#663333>w/ <FONT size=6>MICHAEL ANTHONY BOWIE</FONT></FONT></STRONG></FONT></P><br /><P align=center><FONT size=4><FONT color=#663333 size=4>Janelle Gil~p Mark Prince~d Alvyn White~g</FONT></P><br /><P align=center><FONT color=#663333 size=4>perform originals</FONT></P><br /><P align=center><A href="http://www.michaelanthonybowie.com"><FONT color=#663333 size=2>http://www.michaelanthonybowie.com/</FONT></A></P><br /><P align=center><A href="http://www.heidimartin.com"><FONT color=#663333 size=2>http://www.heidimartin.com</FONT></A></P></FONT><br /><P align=center><FONT color=#663333 size=7>TUESDAY NIGHTS <FONT size=5>AT</FONT> BOSSA LOUNGE</FONT></P><br /><P align=center><FONT size=7><STRONG><FONT color=#663333 size=2>2463 18th St.NW, Adams Morgan-Washington, DC, 20009 202-667-0088<BR></FONT></STRONG></FONT><FONT size=7><STRONG><FONT color=#663333 size=2>Cost: 2 drk. min/sets at 9:30pm and 11:00pm (JULY 18th-opening night)</FONT></STRONG></FONT></P><br /><P align=center><FONT color=#663366><STRONG></STRONG></FONT> </P><br /><DIV><FONT color=#663366><STRONG><IMG height=250 src="http://www.dcjazz.com/mailings/dcjazz/photos/HeidiMartin.jpg" width=191 align=right border=0><FONT face=Arial size=-1>Vocalist/composer/arranger, <FONT size=4><EM><STRONG>Heidi Martin...</STRONG></EM></FONT></FONT></DIV><br /><DIV><br /><P><FONT face=Arial color=#cc3333 size=2><STRONG><EM>NEWS: Heidi Martin </EM>was one of six finalists in the <A href="http://www.londoninternationaljazz.com/" target=_blank>London International Jazz Competition</A>, which featured 107 competitors from 25 nations.</STRONG></FONT></P><br /><P><FONT face=Arial><FONT size=2>Check out the latest news & recordings from Alone Together cd :</FONT><A href="http://www.heidimartin.com/"><FONT face=Tahoma color=#000099 size=2>http://www.heidimartin.com</FONT></A></FONT></STRONG></FONT></P><br /><P><FONT color=#663366><STRONG>Heidi Martin Music <BR>© Pisces-Gemini Publishing Company, Ascap. <BR></P></STRONG></FONT></DIV></div><br clear=all><hr>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1152633211883116252006-07-11T11:50:00.000-04:002006-07-11T11:53:31.896-04:00My Week Just Got Better Exponentially<a href="http://www.nowpublic.com/stacey_dash_adds_a_little_spice_to_next_months_edition_playboy_0">The <br />girlishy sexy Stacey Dash is naked in Playboy!!</a><br /></p><br /><br />There IS a God, and let the church say AMEN!!!!Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1152626702355243802006-07-11T09:36:00.000-04:002006-07-11T10:05:02.513-04:00TTTT: Naked And Assed OutWe'll get to the TTTT in a bit but I have to vent 1st. If you buy a brand new car, still got 30 day tags on it, why in the FUCK would you already put decals and stickers on it? I don't know if I've mentioned this kat before (JimiBuffet), but it was his car. I could read the stickers, but I'm sure one of them was or had something to do with stupid ass Margaritaville. Damn he's banged up.<br /><br />Due to a change of plans I decided to call the Ian(P) against the advice of r and have a meeting with her this evening. I made a couple phone calls and got the low-low on her and I'm good to go. She's a Hall & Oates "Maneater". What out, boy...she'll chew you up!<br /><br />Um....why does my co-worker like to rub and pull on his lips when he's reading something? He already look like one of the damn Simpsons, don't make matters worse! Hehhe...when he first started, one of my other co-workers used to call him Barney. That shit was funny until I guess released that that hurt his feelings so he stopped calling him that. Funny, but banged up.<br /><br />And speaking of banged up, let's talk about me. I get up this morning to take a piss. 5:35 AM. I go to the bathroom which is literally 3 feet from the bedroom door. I piss. I come out and my dad greets me. 5:35 AM. "Morning."<br /> Besides being 5:35 AM, what was unusual about this morning greeting? I was bare ass naked. Yes. Naked. Why? Well it was hot last night so it was one of those RARE occassions I rocked a b-day suit. So I'm coming out of the shitter, I peak out, and as soon as I take that 1st step, POP! There he is. Perfect. Fucking perfect.<br /><br />So...share my pain. What was YOUR most embarrassing moment of nakedness?<br /><br />Go.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1152391448029645422006-07-08T16:19:00.000-04:002006-07-10T11:27:48.533-04:00I Can't HangMan....I was going to go to GayPower's cookout today, but I'm really not up for the seeing a couple of men wining on each other. Ish. I ate some hot dogs last night and even though that was hours ago, I'm SURE them bitches would be coming up if I saw that shit.<br /><br /><br />Very lazy day today...trying to figure out how to get resituated given some unforseen financial mishaps. My brain has also been flowing with some decent entreprenuerial ideas so that's been marinating on my brain too. The offspring and I will be doing football drills as soon as it cools off. This is Week 2 of our spring training camp; so far so good. <br /><br />No decision on meeting the -Ian(P) yet. Not sure I want to make that drive. I get so damn lazy on the weekends. BUt I can't get too lazy because my ass is broke until next pay. I will be sweating my balls off in the kitchen in a effort to save some cash by fixing my own meals. Wish me luck.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">And then came Sunday...</span></span><br /><br />I didn't meet with the Ian(P)this weekend; too much pressure. Not sure if I'm mature enough too do business with a hottie. If she's what I've been told, I'd be too distracted to deal with anything involving real estate. Sa, so sad the mind of the man.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1152221014912404362006-07-06T14:01:00.000-04:002006-07-07T17:27:10.746-04:00I Hate EverybodyI have this song in my head called "Lay It Down" by Dwele. Stuck. The worst part is, all I know is the hook. I do know any of the verses. Oh well.<br /><br />Mad drama over here. I don't want to discuss it because most of you come here to get your laugh or "hmmm...that's interesting" on. So we are gonna keep it light.<br /><br />Isn't it amusing when you know a man who as just as nosey as a woman? Noseyness gossiping are things usually associated with women (except for Lou Ferrigno in <span style="font-style:italic;">The King of Queens</span>), but every now and then, you get a guy who just can't help himself. My boss hurt his ribs on the 4th. He called in and said he had a rib injury and left it at that. When he came into work today, my one co-worker was all in his business: "What happened?" "Did you go to the hospital?" "Did your wife notice?" "What medication are you on?" And you could tell by talking to him that he didn't want to answer a whole lot of questions because most of the answers were yes or no. I asked dude "why you interrogating the man, Walter Cronkite?" His reply was "I'm just curious." Curious is Standard American-English proper for nosey. Y'all ain't know that, did you?<br /><br />Ever been jealous of someone you don't even know? I have a friend who has a crazy wild sex life, and periodically she does the 3some with this couple. How lucky is THIS mu fucka? A sista AND a latina at the same time??? Playing with my emotions. Some kats just have it made like that; me, I do my majic with internet pics and some dollar store lotion. I hate everybody.<br /><br />Weekend should different. My cousin GayPower is having a cookout. From the looks of it, I will be the only straight one there. Again, I hate everybody.<br /><br />Just got a call from this real estate agent. She wants us to meet this weekend to discuss business in her state. Now, its not likely that I'll buy there, but one part of me says not to rule out all my options. Now, the dizzat waggin' caveman in me says "Hmmm....rumor on the street is that this chica is HOT. You should go just to see what she looks like." Trife livin' on my part. I'll just have to play it by ear and see what I do. Hard to resist a sexy Panamanian. I feel myself oozing out of the chair when she talks. Mmmmmm....<br /><br />My ShouldBe wife will be in town in a couple of weeks to perform. OMG....I don't know if I can handle it. That voice, the way she throws her hair bag when she hits a long soulful note. Szszszszszs! I think remain seated the whole time and I'll wear 2 pair of underwear just in case I loose it.<br /><br /><br />HEy! I'm blogged out and shit! Only thing I can think about is Philly, boobs, Panamanian peas and rice, and chocolate martinis. Why...I don't know. Well, I know, and somebody out there knows...and on that, I'm peace the fuck out.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1151083891997793512006-06-23T12:00:00.000-04:002006-06-23T13:31:32.086-04:00Shmoozing IISo last night I went out shmoozing again; brown pin striped suit, patterned dark tan shirt, striped tie the color of the suit, the stripes on the suit and a complementary green, and of course, the chocolate slides. I wish I had a funny story about it, but I don't. It was a typical "who are you?" mosh pit of executives for a dinner that was the cost of a lease payment on a Pontiac. It was so rough, that me, the King of Schooze, only got 1 business card. Long night too...from 5:30 until 9:45. The upside? OPEN BAR. And no, the BK did not get lit up. As a matter of fact, everytime I hit the bar I would say "rum and coke. easy on the rum" There was no way I was gonna get caught and be so comfortable with someone that I'd say something retarded like " BOB! What up, SON?! You holdin' it down?"<br /> But those things are always fun to me. I surprise myself how I can be so comfortable in that situation and still go to the barber shop and everything is "mutha fucka" this and "nigga" that. <br /><br />Today is Tech. Services Hawaiian Shirt Day which included a Mexican Buffet. huh? I don't know, don't ask. All I know is that when it was time to do the group pic, I was GONE! Happy Hour is tonight so we shall see how that goes. The co-worker I don't trust will be there so I'll make sure to pop in and then pop the hell out of there. Thats all I got for now...you monkeys be safe.Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313772.post-1151010008668088782006-06-22T15:36:00.000-04:002006-06-23T13:46:50.933-04:00I Got A Case of the Reese'sI gettin' like Reese now, I feel I have absolutely nothing to blog about. Actually, I have a ton of stuff to blog about, but it's really too painful now. I can say this, you don't really know yourself until not only when the shit hits the fan, but when you can smell it. That's where I am not and it would be an even bumpier if it wasn't for my girl DancesWithJesus (yes, there is a story behind the nickname). Thanks, luv. You are a God-send.<br /><br />One good thing about living in the Baltimore/DC area is the incredible diversity and the number of festivals that go along with that diversity. I've already missed 2 festivals just by blinking. This weekend there is the somewhat-insane Carribbean Festival in DC. My goal this year is to go to both the DC and B-more festivals and juxtapose the 2. I've never gone to both so its high time my old ass gets on it.<br /> The 1st comparison will be DC's Carribean Festival. The Festival takes place on about 8 blocks of Georgia Ave. Floats go by from different area Carribean clubs. The Trinis usually truly represent, but every now and then the Yardies do their thing. Personally, I will nuetral. I'll watch some of the festivities, walk up the street to be with WhatAboutMe and her crew as they DJ on Georgia Ave. <br /> Inappropriateness.<br /> Hey. Friendship is unconditional, right? Then why come I have no problems ignoring this email from a friend even though its for her to go to Thailand and get surgery?<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hi,<br />Just out of curiosity...<br />anyone in town on July 4 and able to take me to the airport at 6:00 in the morning?<br /></span><br />Shiiiiiiiiit! I ain't the one! Not only would we have to be friends with benefits, those benefits better include ALL of the orifices.<br /><br /><br /><br />YO!!!! Vida Guerra is naked like whoa in Playboy!!! Life <span style="font-weight: bold;">is </span>good. damn good.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5628/557/1600/phun.org_vida_37.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5628/557/320/phun.org_vida_37.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Brother Kojakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00022418937296472365noreply@blogger.com1