I am SOOO disappointed in myself. Mostly for some major reasons I won't say here, but for the blog I'm disappointed in myself because I missed the Eric Roberson concert. I'm the kind of man who likes to go to unsigned and barely known artist concerts. He fits the bill perfectly; even the place where he was playing. But I was in one of my rare non-hermit attitudes and didn't want to go by myself. I could have gone with the Castellian, but something told me not to. Maybe there is just too much stuff going on in my head. Seems like my life is in this weird controlled tailspin. When I say control I know what I need to do to adjust it, I'm just not doing it for some reason. I think I'm more afraid of change than I lead up to be.
I have no idea why I'm blogging. I have a business trip to get ready for. My hair is all banged up and way to long for the stoggies I'll be hanging with in the big fat ATL. It's going to be a great opportunity to meet some powerful folks and network. Not that anybody is reading (my last week's stats were just that....weak), but I won't be blogging for those 3 days. If anything jumps off though, I'll have something for y'all on Wednesday.
You know, you women are a trip. I read a large variety of blogs on Blogger. A few months ago haterade was reining supreme. This one particular blogger was using her blog as you would expect; to express her feelings. In the comments section, another blogger shot her in the face with a comment to the degree of "why are you getting upset? You are a grown woman acting like a 18 year. Grow up." Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow! Cold blooded, son. Cold Blooded.
The point I'm getting to is that this same woman who was hatin', is almost the carbon copy of the critizied blogger. The only difference between the two lifestyles are that one has a child and they live in different cities. That's kind of the lesson I am teaching myself this weekend; when you step in shit, check your ass because it might be your OWN shit you steppin' in.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
White Flip Flops
I am one to talk about androgeny given the longer than shoulder length hair, however, there comes a point of going too far. Yesterday, I saw a seemingly hetero brotha walking out of a building with some white flip flops on. White. Flip flops. Now, first of all I think men shouldn't wear flip flops anywhere but the beach and I know that most people strongly disagree with that. Fine. But how about some canvas or black ones? White? WHITE?? C'mon. That's soft as baby balls.
I'm a little short on material today so, uh....I'll be back.
4:31 p.m.
Ok, I'm back, but I STILL don't have any material. Well, this one guy farted on the elevator. I also owe my Hindi readers an apology for the thoughts that went thru my mind during the 15 to 20 minutes that followed. I was carrying a computer and as soon I got off and the doors started closing, he let out this "ugh." sigh. 1st thought: "damn, that ni**a farted." I came back a few minutes later, and there were still aromatic traces of the beans and curry from the crack of his ass. Bitter about that.
I'm also bitter that I missed the business office by 5 freakin' minutes and they wouldn't give me my damn check. WTF? I can't even blame it on The White Man....everybody that works back there is black! Wait....but they are all BLACK WOMEN! A HA!! The new conspirocy, Jack, the black woman trying to hold the black man back! Stuck on "Imma KEEP my foot in his ass! Fuck his overdrawn ass! That's what he get actin' like he all that....STAY broke, you nappy headed basta'd..."
The pain, oh the pain. Sister, why dost thou forsake thy broketh brethren? For be he but a man of simple pleasures and needs. Art thou not thine brother's keeper?
**patting my emptying pockets and sniffling** Damn, y'all ain't shit.....
I'm a little short on material today so, uh....I'll be back.
4:31 p.m.
Ok, I'm back, but I STILL don't have any material. Well, this one guy farted on the elevator. I also owe my Hindi readers an apology for the thoughts that went thru my mind during the 15 to 20 minutes that followed. I was carrying a computer and as soon I got off and the doors started closing, he let out this "ugh." sigh. 1st thought: "damn, that ni**a farted." I came back a few minutes later, and there were still aromatic traces of the beans and curry from the crack of his ass. Bitter about that.
I'm also bitter that I missed the business office by 5 freakin' minutes and they wouldn't give me my damn check. WTF? I can't even blame it on The White Man....everybody that works back there is black! Wait....but they are all BLACK WOMEN! A HA!! The new conspirocy, Jack, the black woman trying to hold the black man back! Stuck on "Imma KEEP my foot in his ass! Fuck his overdrawn ass! That's what he get actin' like he all that....STAY broke, you nappy headed basta'd..."
The pain, oh the pain. Sister, why dost thou forsake thy broketh brethren? For be he but a man of simple pleasures and needs. Art thou not thine brother's keeper?
**patting my emptying pockets and sniffling** Damn, y'all ain't shit.....
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Night of Boxing???
Not really. My cousin (Glueman) and I hit the Jillian's of Arundel Mills. The plan was to hit a spot where we could sit and relax while watching the fight. Hmmm....the manager there was smarter than that. They marketed the fight so well that the place was made up more of people standing than sitting. Evidently they moved all of the games to a storage room to make more room for people. The cost was $10 at the door. From what I was told by a bar owner, the cost for a commercial establishment to purchase a boxing match is $1200. Jillian's easily made that in the first hour.
I was a little bitter that there was no place to sit, but my cousin assured me that it wasn't going to be that bad. And he was right. What really became the nusance was the presence of so many women. That's right, women. Women to see a boxing match. And you ask "damn, Brother Kojak, why can't women go to watch a boxing match and enjoy it?" Sure they can. I know a lot of women who genuinely enjoy a good boxing match. And for the early part of the fight, their presence was known. However, in the latter rounds, here come the posers. The women who had absolutely no interest in seeing the match but more about seeing the men seeing the match. They came in around Round 9 and later wearing heels, low-cut shirts, tight jeans, tight skirts, belly shirts, any type of casual to club gear; they were rocking it. I had to admit, as testosterone driven as the night was, I was definitely distracted. I was pissed off. You can't go NO WHERE without women wanting to be around. It was the same thing they used to do for high school baseball, sitting in the bleachers watching the game as if they were interested. Man....not even close! Scoping. Heteros love having women around most of the time. Fight night, I don't think so. Do you see us going to wedding or baby showers? hanging out around the shoe store? Hell naw. And for those guys that run behind their wives or gf's to go to a damn baby shower or something feminine like that, make sure the 2 of you wear the same skirt size.
Its Sunday. It's 92 degrees outside at 100% humidity. No one in their right MIND would be outside on a Sunday unless they really had to be. Raise your hand if you are that dumb....
***3 hands reluctantly go up**
Yeah, man...me, Glueman and DoomAndGloom went running Sunday. We were supposed to hit the weights, but we couldn't get past the security guard at Glueman's job. So, me looking at my appalling physique and Glueman always being up for a challenge, we hit the track. Luckily, I had plenty of Gatorade so we all shared. DoomAndGloom walked 2 miles while me amd Glueman did sprints on the straightways. I'm trying to run the 1/4 mile in a min. or less. (Damn I got a long way to go!). He and I did that for about a mile a 3/4 worth. I fucked up though. The Gatorade was to quench my thirst DURING my weight/endurance workout. I ended up trying to sip it occassionally during my run. And of course, the last lap ended in a cramp. Ugh. To be so outta shape is trife. And to make matters worse, I ended the night with a pounding headache.
Notable event of the day: On the way to the gym, we were stopped at a red light when we noticed an older woman sitting on a bench. I was the first to notice "Hey. She got a thing of Gold Bond Foot Killa!"
All looked towards the bench.
Looked back at the car, hesitated, but then began to take of her shoes.
"No she isn't"said DoomAndGloom
"Yes she is!" giggled Glueman.
Now, I didn't look because I knew if I did I wouldn't have been able to stop laughing. But by Glueman's reaction, she definitely put that shit on her crusty ass feet in broad daylight. wow.
And tonight??? The ironies of all ironies. When I was put out, there was this girl I was chatting with....INSTANT crush. She was smooth, ambitious, smart, exotic. I tried to put the isms on her, but I couldn't get her to bite. 6 or so months later, she's chatting with me now telling me about the new bliss in her life with her man and new job. That's great because when I was chatting with her it was kinda rough for her. In what capacity I don't know because she never gotta truly specific. That was a weird feeling initially, but I'm happy for her. What kinda bothers me is that I've seen pics of her bf....ma fucka looks like a sickly Jermaine Dupree. Damn love is blind! LOL!
I be out.
I was a little bitter that there was no place to sit, but my cousin assured me that it wasn't going to be that bad. And he was right. What really became the nusance was the presence of so many women. That's right, women. Women to see a boxing match. And you ask "damn, Brother Kojak, why can't women go to watch a boxing match and enjoy it?" Sure they can. I know a lot of women who genuinely enjoy a good boxing match. And for the early part of the fight, their presence was known. However, in the latter rounds, here come the posers. The women who had absolutely no interest in seeing the match but more about seeing the men seeing the match. They came in around Round 9 and later wearing heels, low-cut shirts, tight jeans, tight skirts, belly shirts, any type of casual to club gear; they were rocking it. I had to admit, as testosterone driven as the night was, I was definitely distracted. I was pissed off. You can't go NO WHERE without women wanting to be around. It was the same thing they used to do for high school baseball, sitting in the bleachers watching the game as if they were interested. Man....not even close! Scoping. Heteros love having women around most of the time. Fight night, I don't think so. Do you see us going to wedding or baby showers? hanging out around the shoe store? Hell naw. And for those guys that run behind their wives or gf's to go to a damn baby shower or something feminine like that, make sure the 2 of you wear the same skirt size.
Its Sunday. It's 92 degrees outside at 100% humidity. No one in their right MIND would be outside on a Sunday unless they really had to be. Raise your hand if you are that dumb....
***3 hands reluctantly go up**
Yeah, man...me, Glueman and DoomAndGloom went running Sunday. We were supposed to hit the weights, but we couldn't get past the security guard at Glueman's job. So, me looking at my appalling physique and Glueman always being up for a challenge, we hit the track. Luckily, I had plenty of Gatorade so we all shared. DoomAndGloom walked 2 miles while me amd Glueman did sprints on the straightways. I'm trying to run the 1/4 mile in a min. or less. (Damn I got a long way to go!). He and I did that for about a mile a 3/4 worth. I fucked up though. The Gatorade was to quench my thirst DURING my weight/endurance workout. I ended up trying to sip it occassionally during my run. And of course, the last lap ended in a cramp. Ugh. To be so outta shape is trife. And to make matters worse, I ended the night with a pounding headache.
Notable event of the day: On the way to the gym, we were stopped at a red light when we noticed an older woman sitting on a bench. I was the first to notice "Hey. She got a thing of Gold Bond Foot Killa!"
All looked towards the bench.
Looked back at the car, hesitated, but then began to take of her shoes.
"No she isn't"said DoomAndGloom
"Yes she is!" giggled Glueman.
Now, I didn't look because I knew if I did I wouldn't have been able to stop laughing. But by Glueman's reaction, she definitely put that shit on her crusty ass feet in broad daylight. wow.
And tonight??? The ironies of all ironies. When I was put out, there was this girl I was chatting with....INSTANT crush. She was smooth, ambitious, smart, exotic. I tried to put the isms on her, but I couldn't get her to bite. 6 or so months later, she's chatting with me now telling me about the new bliss in her life with her man and new job. That's great because when I was chatting with her it was kinda rough for her. In what capacity I don't know because she never gotta truly specific. That was a weird feeling initially, but I'm happy for her. What kinda bothers me is that I've seen pics of her bf....ma fucka looks like a sickly Jermaine Dupree. Damn love is blind! LOL!
I be out.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Just Like Old Times
Man, I have to make this quick, I have an appointment at 10.
One thing I forgot to tell you all about was the weird mishap at the Home Depot on Saturday. I have a machete I purchased from the flea market years ago and it's about that time to get it sharpened. Someone told me that Home Depot does that kind of thing. Hmmmm....ok. So I take my machete over to Home Depot all happy-go-lucky
La-la-LA
La-la-LA
(machete in sheath dangling around my belt)
La-la-LA
La-la-La
(white man looks at me, goes around 4 cars to keep some distance)
La-la-LA
La-la-LA
(latino woman whispers something to her chubby son and picks up the pace to her car)
La-la-LA
La....la.....hold up.
Shit. I forgot I was black.
So I SLOWLY take the machete sheath off of my belt and ask the men at working in the tool rental area "Excuse me, do y'all sharpen blades."
"Uh....RICK! We sharpen these, man?" he shouted down the aisle.
"Uh....damn! Naw man," changing the bass and tone in his voice. "We don't mess with those. You gonna have to take that someplace else."
"Hmm. Alright y'all. Thanks." and walked out.
So what's just like old times? Hanging out with WhatAboutMe. Uh oh.....time to go....I'll tell y'all what happened soon as I get back. Don't hold your breath, it ain't that juicy.
9:53 a.m.
Ok, I'm back. I was looking my 1st describing WhatAboutMe, but I can't find it. Basically its an inside joke that you can tell her some serious problem that's going on, and somehow the subject gets back to her. Like "My dog has fleas and now they are infesting the entire house."
She would say something like "Oh. Did I tell you I got a promotion 2 months ago?"
Hehhehe... cracks me up. So she and I are IM'ing each other back and forth last night and decided to meet at one of the last havens for the REAL U St. Anyone familiar with DC knows that this area used to be a stronghold for cool black folks. Then it became a spot for cool people. Then some developers got the idea to convert some of the old buildings into condos, Starbucks, Thai restaurants, a RACK of Ethiopian restaurants, and how can you leave out the tanning salon? That's right...a tanning salon in the heart of U ST!!! The area where go-go took a back street to hip hop. **sigh**
So she and I sat there and ate and drank. No, not at the soft-ass Thai spot, but we walked from one U St relic to another. A place where we call the Spot. Funny too, because we used to go there all the time and for like a year or so we didn't even know the name of the place. But it was fun; I got that old feeling of being somewhere I indubitably fit in. Not too yuppy, no too thuggish, not too soft. The tiny place is amazing. You go there and at one table (and this is how it is typically) you have your D.C. yuppies who are for some reason or another not even close to being shaken about hanging in the hood, another table you have some Ethiopian businessmen (well, frontin' like they're business men most of the time), me and WhatAboutMe, a kat that's from the neighborhood and ain't moving out for a damn reason, and the Howard U alumni that are usually grouped in 3's or 4's...
12:05 p.m.
Ok, now I can finish up this entry.
So, thats the Spot. And she and I talked about our respective lives and relationships. The usual. The only difference was that the environment that we had grown so found of was morphing before our very eyes. new signs going up, old signs going down. Boxes for shops that sold value-priced shoes packed for re-location. Next door, a man cleans the renovation dust off of the windows of a brand new French cafe housed with a high steel engraved bar with matching chairs and facade. There is a view to the grill as is typical of modern day cafes.
Evolution. And for a split second, I knew how the Native Americans felt.
One thing I forgot to tell you all about was the weird mishap at the Home Depot on Saturday. I have a machete I purchased from the flea market years ago and it's about that time to get it sharpened. Someone told me that Home Depot does that kind of thing. Hmmmm....ok. So I take my machete over to Home Depot all happy-go-lucky
La-la-LA
La-la-LA
(machete in sheath dangling around my belt)
La-la-LA
La-la-La
(white man looks at me, goes around 4 cars to keep some distance)
La-la-LA
La-la-LA
(latino woman whispers something to her chubby son and picks up the pace to her car)
La-la-LA
La....la.....hold up.
Shit. I forgot I was black.
So I SLOWLY take the machete sheath off of my belt and ask the men at working in the tool rental area "Excuse me, do y'all sharpen blades."
"Uh....RICK! We sharpen these, man?" he shouted down the aisle.
"Uh....damn! Naw man," changing the bass and tone in his voice. "We don't mess with those. You gonna have to take that someplace else."
"Hmm. Alright y'all. Thanks." and walked out.
So what's just like old times? Hanging out with WhatAboutMe. Uh oh.....time to go....I'll tell y'all what happened soon as I get back. Don't hold your breath, it ain't that juicy.
9:53 a.m.
Ok, I'm back. I was looking my 1st describing WhatAboutMe, but I can't find it. Basically its an inside joke that you can tell her some serious problem that's going on, and somehow the subject gets back to her. Like "My dog has fleas and now they are infesting the entire house."
She would say something like "Oh. Did I tell you I got a promotion 2 months ago?"
Hehhehe... cracks me up. So she and I are IM'ing each other back and forth last night and decided to meet at one of the last havens for the REAL U St. Anyone familiar with DC knows that this area used to be a stronghold for cool black folks. Then it became a spot for cool people. Then some developers got the idea to convert some of the old buildings into condos, Starbucks, Thai restaurants, a RACK of Ethiopian restaurants, and how can you leave out the tanning salon? That's right...a tanning salon in the heart of U ST!!! The area where go-go took a back street to hip hop. **sigh**
So she and I sat there and ate and drank. No, not at the soft-ass Thai spot, but we walked from one U St relic to another. A place where we call the Spot. Funny too, because we used to go there all the time and for like a year or so we didn't even know the name of the place. But it was fun; I got that old feeling of being somewhere I indubitably fit in. Not too yuppy, no too thuggish, not too soft. The tiny place is amazing. You go there and at one table (and this is how it is typically) you have your D.C. yuppies who are for some reason or another not even close to being shaken about hanging in the hood, another table you have some Ethiopian businessmen (well, frontin' like they're business men most of the time), me and WhatAboutMe, a kat that's from the neighborhood and ain't moving out for a damn reason, and the Howard U alumni that are usually grouped in 3's or 4's...
12:05 p.m.
Ok, now I can finish up this entry.
So, thats the Spot. And she and I talked about our respective lives and relationships. The usual. The only difference was that the environment that we had grown so found of was morphing before our very eyes. new signs going up, old signs going down. Boxes for shops that sold value-priced shoes packed for re-location. Next door, a man cleans the renovation dust off of the windows of a brand new French cafe housed with a high steel engraved bar with matching chairs and facade. There is a view to the grill as is typical of modern day cafes.
Evolution. And for a split second, I knew how the Native Americans felt.
Nite Out At Appleby's
One thing we all remember about the Smurfs was how much they loved hanging out together. The same holds true for the Ghetto Smurfs. They get together and drink 40's, smoke dat herb, play dominoes, and every now and then they hit a restaurant. Tonight, they are hitting Appleby's. But first, let's introduce CockDieselSmurf; a smurf who is cut too the gut due to a short stint in the fed.
Also let's introduce BumpySmurf. This mutha fucka STAYS bitter. He has something to bitch about all the time.
Now; let go eat good in the mutha fuckin' neighborhood....
Ghetto Smurfs enter.
Also let's introduce BumpySmurf. This mutha fucka STAYS bitter. He has something to bitch about all the time.
Now; let go eat good in the mutha fuckin' neighborhood....
Ghetto Smurfs enter.
BoricuaSmurf: Oh!! Dis place is faan-cy an' shit! Check it out!
PapaSmurf: Whateva, bitch. You don't know shit. Calm your mango-eating ass down.
BoricuaSmurf: **rolling eyes**
CookySmurf: Yeah, this place ain't shit. I bet they ain't got no pig feet up in here.
Hostess: HI! Welcome to Appleby's! How many in your party?
Papa Smurf: Bitch, can't you count?
CockDieselSmurf: Raise up PapaSmurf! She just doin' her job...With fine ass self.... (grabbing his jank) ha-ha-HAA!
Hostess: **blushing** uh..I..uh...thanks?
CockDieselSmurf: **sticking tongue out** Sho you right! hehehehe....its 6 of us, sho-tay.
Hostess: Follow me please.
PapaSmurf: **behind her**Hmph...she DO gotta phat ass. If she wasn't so goofy, I'd put her ass to work.
TrickSmurf: Papa!! Come on! Behave!
BumpySmurf: Man, FUCK behavin'!
**All are seated and the waitress approaches**
Waitress: Hi my name is Shelly and I'll be your server this evening. Can I get any of you something to drink?
BoricuaSmurf: PapiSmurf, I want a sangria. Plee-ase???
PapaSmurf: aight. Get her one of those and I want a Bud. What the rest of y'all want?
TrickSmurf: I want a Strawbury Daquiri
CookySmurf: Gimmie a Bud.
CockDieselSmurf: Me too.
Waitress: **to BumpySmurf** What about you, sir?
BumpySmurf: FUCK YOU!!
Waitress: Excuse me???
BumpySmurf: You heard me, FUCK YOU!!
TrickSmurf: Shut up, boy. Don't pay him no mind, girl. He A.D.D. or some shit. Or just plain stupid.
BumpySmurf: FUCK YOU TOO!!
PapaSmurf: Just bring him a beer too. Thanks.
Waitress stomps off. Returns later with a basket of bread and drinks.
CookySmurf: **chewing greedily** Damn! These rolls is alright! Hey BoricuaSmurf, gimmie your bag so I can take a few of these home.
BoricuaSmurf: Sorry, papi. I beat ju to de punch. I'm takin' deez shits wif me!
CookySmurf: **rolling eyes**
PapaSmurf: Cooky, can't you just make some yourself, man?
CookySmurf: Yeah, but shit! I can take these and sell dem at mushroom. At no cost man! No overhead, n'yamean?
**in unison** OOOH! AHHHH!
CookySmurf: See? SEE? **pointing at head** I be knowing shit, man! I drops that knowledge, son!
CockDieselSmurf: I feel you, dawg! **bumping fists** Here come the waitress. I'm ready to get my grub on.
Waitress enters getting in squatting position.
Waitress: You guys ready to order?
PapaSmurf: Yeah, we ready. What you ladies want?
BoricuaSmurf: Ok, do ju have bacalao?
Waitress: huh?
BoricuaSmurf: Bacalao. Ju know, de fish wif de tomatoes, wif de sazon....
Waitress: Uh, no ma'am.
BoricuaSmurf: **sucking teeth** Ok, what abou' arroz con pollo?
Waitress: I don't know what that is.
BoricuaSmurf: **SIGH!!** Daamn! J'all don't got shit!
TrickSmurf: Bitch, this aint no Spanish restaurant! Look at the damn menu.
BoricuaSmurf: Fine. Ju got chick-kon fingas, right?
Waitress: **sighing in relief** Yes. We have that.
BoricuaSmurf: Ok. I take dat.
Waitress: You ma'am?
TrickSmurf: Just gimme dat dish wit the skremps.
Waitress: Huh? Skremps?
TrickSmurf: Yeah. You know, skremps.
BumpySmurf: I HATE skremps!!
CookySmurf: Bitch the word is "shrimp". Damn!
TrickSmurf: whateva. **rolling eyes and sucking teeth** That's....what...I want.
Waitress: **too PapaSmurf** And you sir?
PapaSmurf: Gimmie dat grilled fish, with some rice and veg-a-tables.
Waitress: Great! And....
PapaSmurf: Wait. You ain't ask me what I wanted for desert?
Waitress: Well, sir, you haven't eaten your meal yet?
PapaSmurf: That's alright. I know what I want.
Waitress: Oh, ok. **fumbling with notepad.** What would you like?
PapaSmurf: You and that FINE ass or yours. Mmmm mmm MMM!
Waitress: **blushing** Uh, thanks.
PapaSmurf: **grabbing her arm, gently** Uh huh. Don't thank me until PapaSmurf show you what's REALLY good. And Imma tell you this here....
**BoricuaSmurf and TrickSmurf look at each other and roll eyes**
PapaSmurf: What's gonna happen is, you gonna give Papa that good number, and he gonna call you and then take you out and show you how a REAL smrf can Smurf. Ya feel me?
Waitress: yeah....I...I think I do.
PapaSmurf: Now go'on and do your thing. Papa gonna come get cha when he ready. **wink**
Waitress: **smiling** OK
CockDieselSmurf: Ehhh...Hmmm.
Waitress: Yes?
CockDieselSmurf: Lemmie get that Atkin's Favorite with the chicken.
Waitress: Got it.
CockDieselSmurf: Yeah, I'm trying to keep the guns, tight. **flexing bicep**
Waitress: **looking at CockDieselSmurf then PapaSmurf** That's nice. I'll be back with your orders. **walking off**
BumpySmurf: HEY!!! What about me and shit??
Waitress: Oh? How about "FUCK YOU!! I HATE taking your order!" **walks off**
BumpySmurf: **mouth wide open. All Smurfs bust out laughing**
TrickSmurf: Wait. Y'all here that?
**all listen**
CockDieselSmurf: Oh no.....oh shit....
**sound of a long car horn to the tune of "La Cucaracha**
**All together** IT'S ESE-SMURF!!!!
CookySmurf: **looking out the window** DAMN! AND he got TP with him!
PapaSmurf: Shit. I'm out. Imma go get my swerve on before they embarass my ass. **leaves the table.**
Enter Ese-Smurf. Along with him is TrailerParkSmurf.
Ese-Smurf: What's up, Homes? What you guys doing?
CookySmurf: We 'bout to eat. What da fuck you want?
TrailerParkSmurf: Now, now, Cooky. We was JUUUST in the neighbor, and we saw the smurf-mobile. And we figured we could drop by and say hi.
Ese-Smurf: Yeah. We just came from doing some bzness. We got some good deals on some hubcaps, Homes. You interested?
BumpySmurf: Fuck hubcaps!
Ese-Smurf: Damn, vato! You gots to chill, homes!
BumpySmurf: Fuck dat!
**Waitress enters** Here you guys go. Oh, more guests?
TrailerParkSmurf: Yeah! We were just about to set a spell! **takes a set**
**all sigh**
TrailerParkSmurf: Oh, I'd LOVE a beer, darlin'. Can you get that for me?
Waitress: Sure. And you sir?
Ese-Smurf: Yeah, chica. Gimmie a Corona and shit, man.
Waitress: ok **walks off**
TrickSmurf: You know, TP, its rude to have a hat on at a table with ladies. Why don't you take that shit off and pretend to be a gentleman.
TrailerParkSmurf: You right, you RIGHT! I'll just put it right here on the table.....
**before he can place it on the table, its obvious that the hat should remain on TP's head due to the once-white now dark brown brim. Also noted are the grease and oil stains all over the hat and its now weird smell**
TrickSmurf: UH UH! Put it back on. **clutching her stomach** Put..it..back...ON!!
TrailerParkSmurf: Uh...al-right.
**Ese-Smurf approaches BoricuaSmurf** OH! Pollo de dedos. **putting thumb on one of them** Did you want that, chica?
BoricuaSmurf: Oh hell no! Ju DID NOT just put ju hands in my fuckin' food! Oh fuck DAT, man! **begins taking off her earrings** Ju don' be doin' dat shit to ME! Imma fuck ju up as sooon as I take dees e'rrinks off! Fuck sat shet!
CockDeiselSmurf: **standing between the 2 of them** Easy, easy,mami! See what you did, jackass? She bout ta light yo ass up!
Ese-Smurf: **talking with mouth full and laughing** Sorry, Homes. I was hung-gree.
CockDeiselSmurf: You know what? Why don't y'all 2 just raise the fuck up outta here before I light BOTH y'all asses up my damn self.
TrailerParkSmurf: Al-right, al-right. We'll leave. C'mon, Es-saySmurf. We need to push these here hubcaps anyways. **both getting up**
CookySmurf: Uh....wait one minute, mutha fuckas. Where your money for that beer?
TrailerParkSmurf: Oh! I fig-gered one of you kind smurfs can smurf me a beer.
CookySmurf: SHIIIIIIIIIIITTTT! I ain't smurfing you shit! You better pay for that mutha fucken shit!
TrailerParkSmurf: Well, there's a problem, buddy. Since we ain't unloaded them hubcaps, I sadly do not have any currency at this moment in time. But I'd glad trade you the hula-hoop that's around ma pro-pane tank on the trailer. **putting his hand on Cooky's shoulder.**
BumpySmurf: I HATE hula-hoops!
CookySmurf: Get the fuck up off me, man! **standing up** I'm 'bout to wear your ass OUT!
TrickSmurf: Wait a minute y'all. Wait a minute. Y'all 2 just go, please. CD, you KNOW you on parole and Cooky you don't need no more drama. Fuck it.
**exuent TrailerParkSmurf and Ese-Smurf**
CockDeiselSmurf: Yeah, betta had left. Wait til I catch they ass back at the Village.
CookySmurf: Mmm mmm.
BumpySmurf: YEAH!
**enter PapaSmurf, folding a sheet a paper**
PapaSmurf: I'm back, they gone? If they were here while I was here I know there would be some shit.
CookySmurf: Yeah. You missed them and there was some shit anyway. Shit....what did WE miss?
PapaSmurf: HehehehheHHE! You know how I do.
CookSmurf: Got that number, huh?
PapaSmurf: No doubt. I'll have her tricked out in 'bout a week. Let's eat, mutha fuckas.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Weekend Synopsis- July
Friday: I was on full Daddy Duty. Me and MiniMe sat and watched the O's get their asses kicked by the Red Sox while we ate a mix of Honey Cheerios, cashews, and plain M&M's. These are the nights you adore fatherhood.
Sat.: The big day. Went to the Sugarwater Tour featuring Jill Scott, Floetry, Erykah Badu, and Queen Latifah. Off...the hook. My 2 complaints were 1) the show was in Columbia, MD; a Baltimore suburb. Why did they keep shoutin' out DC? Bitter about that. 2) Short show given the magnitude of talent. Floetry was on stage a whopping 30 minutes. Damn! That bothered me a bit because Marsha can SANG. Yea, I spelled that right because there is a difference between someone who can "sing" and someone who can "sang". Kelly Clarkson...no, let me not go there. Let me pick someone black....Ashanti can sing. But the big girl in the choir at church who whenever she approaches the mic, the old ladies in the front giggle with delight and lean over to whisper to each other. SHE...can probably SANG.
But as usual, I digress. Everyone else in the festival averaged about 45. I think Queen Latifah went a few minutes over her limit but it was all to the good because she rocked the spot with some jazz AND hip hop. Jill...was Jill. I really can't describe it because she gives an amazing performance. I've seen her twice and both times I was in total awe. For me she is a hard show to watch because the "Who Is Jill Scott?" album just brings back so many memories for me. (Yes, NONE that I will share with you all. Sorry.) Erykah was tight too. She commands the entire venue with just the expressions of her eyes and arms. Amazing.
Other observations? Fellas, there were a LOT of single women there. Don't sleep on these kinds of venues. Although a good portion of the single women were lesbians, hey, you can still look, right? I think the lesbian draw was Floetry, who are a working gay couple. I didnt know that until last night.
I hung out all day with Wisdom and had a ball. We talked a lot and I found out more about her which was great. We ended the night at the Baltimore-famous Double T Diner over pancakes. Hehhehe. So funny its actually cool.
Sunday: Slept thru most of the day. When I awakened, I was asked to cook on the grill. MiniMe made a new friend today. An assoc. of my mom brought him over and they had an instant clicking. Both are the same age and same energy level.
It looks like me and the fellas WON'T be going to Chicago for the boxing match. If I made about 30K more a year, definitely. The price of a decent seat at this event would be $150. That's right. About 30 rows back for $150. Sad to be po', man.
Ghetto Smurfs update: Damn, sun! This is taking so much longer than I anticipated. Almost done, but not quite. Again, I will warn those of you who are somewhat loyal readers that this is going to be one of the most offensive blog entries....to e'rybody. E'rybody gets it in this one. No race is left out.
Sat.: The big day. Went to the Sugarwater Tour featuring Jill Scott, Floetry, Erykah Badu, and Queen Latifah. Off...the hook. My 2 complaints were 1) the show was in Columbia, MD; a Baltimore suburb. Why did they keep shoutin' out DC? Bitter about that. 2) Short show given the magnitude of talent. Floetry was on stage a whopping 30 minutes. Damn! That bothered me a bit because Marsha can SANG. Yea, I spelled that right because there is a difference between someone who can "sing" and someone who can "sang". Kelly Clarkson...no, let me not go there. Let me pick someone black....Ashanti can sing. But the big girl in the choir at church who whenever she approaches the mic, the old ladies in the front giggle with delight and lean over to whisper to each other. SHE...can probably SANG.
But as usual, I digress. Everyone else in the festival averaged about 45. I think Queen Latifah went a few minutes over her limit but it was all to the good because she rocked the spot with some jazz AND hip hop. Jill...was Jill. I really can't describe it because she gives an amazing performance. I've seen her twice and both times I was in total awe. For me she is a hard show to watch because the "Who Is Jill Scott?" album just brings back so many memories for me. (Yes, NONE that I will share with you all. Sorry.) Erykah was tight too. She commands the entire venue with just the expressions of her eyes and arms. Amazing.
Other observations? Fellas, there were a LOT of single women there. Don't sleep on these kinds of venues. Although a good portion of the single women were lesbians, hey, you can still look, right? I think the lesbian draw was Floetry, who are a working gay couple. I didnt know that until last night.
I hung out all day with Wisdom and had a ball. We talked a lot and I found out more about her which was great. We ended the night at the Baltimore-famous Double T Diner over pancakes. Hehhehe. So funny its actually cool.
Sunday: Slept thru most of the day. When I awakened, I was asked to cook on the grill. MiniMe made a new friend today. An assoc. of my mom brought him over and they had an instant clicking. Both are the same age and same energy level.
It looks like me and the fellas WON'T be going to Chicago for the boxing match. If I made about 30K more a year, definitely. The price of a decent seat at this event would be $150. That's right. About 30 rows back for $150. Sad to be po', man.
Ghetto Smurfs update: Damn, sun! This is taking so much longer than I anticipated. Almost done, but not quite. Again, I will warn those of you who are somewhat loyal readers that this is going to be one of the most offensive blog entries....to e'rybody. E'rybody gets it in this one. No race is left out.
Monday, July 04, 2005
**Yawn** Ok, I'm up
I have to applaud all of those who manage to blog every or every other day during the summer. I can't do it. Not that I am having such an exciting summer that I can't blog, but it is definitely harder with the sun out and the heat on. My kind of weather for sure. So to the my 3 loyal readers, I apolgize. To all of those waiting for the next episode of Ghetto Smurfs, gimmie until Friday; story is halfway done.
What have I gotten into all summer so far? Nothing exciting that I can think about. I haven't been offered a full-time job at the U of B as of yet. We shall see in the next couple weeks. There are trips to be planned, and I am growing in my acceptance of men who choose men. I told my wife the other night that I actually let a GAY man retwist my hair at the shop! I'm growing up and what not!
Friday we went bowling. Duckpins. Wife was pissed off at the man in the next lane who decided to take his son bowling. Well, he only did this as a way to let the bowling alley babysit his son because
1.) the kid was running halfway down the lane to throw the ball 2.) the kid got bored and started throwing the balls in the gutter on purpose. All this while the Dad of The Year sat there, watched, didn't say shit, and talked on the cell phone (obviously to his otherwoamn because he was grinning WAY too much). The manager had to tell him twice to stop the kids from running down the lane for fear of hiim busting his ass on the slippery hardwood. He'd say "hold on" then say "Offspring, don't do that.......Ok, I'm back." Then as I said before the kid got a tad bored and would just drop the balls in the gutter. So much so that an attendant had to go into the lane and push the balls down the gutter. Trife. We men can be so shitty like that sometimes. Been there, done that, but at the same time you don't allow your kid to be put in some form of harm while you getting your swerve on.
Sunday I went to a cookout at my co-worker, D-Money's house. She lives in a very exclusive area of a DC suburb. She's cool, but it definitely showed with the house. High ceilings and about 10 powder rooms. D-Money has an interesting circle of friends and an odd living arrangement. She lives with a man, but according to her, they aren't an item. Just friends. Hmmm... Here is are the list of folks I met:
What have I gotten into all summer so far? Nothing exciting that I can think about. I haven't been offered a full-time job at the U of B as of yet. We shall see in the next couple weeks. There are trips to be planned, and I am growing in my acceptance of men who choose men. I told my wife the other night that I actually let a GAY man retwist my hair at the shop! I'm growing up and what not!
Friday we went bowling. Duckpins. Wife was pissed off at the man in the next lane who decided to take his son bowling. Well, he only did this as a way to let the bowling alley babysit his son because
1.) the kid was running halfway down the lane to throw the ball 2.) the kid got bored and started throwing the balls in the gutter on purpose. All this while the Dad of The Year sat there, watched, didn't say shit, and talked on the cell phone (obviously to his otherwoamn because he was grinning WAY too much). The manager had to tell him twice to stop the kids from running down the lane for fear of hiim busting his ass on the slippery hardwood. He'd say "hold on" then say "Offspring, don't do that.......Ok, I'm back." Then as I said before the kid got a tad bored and would just drop the balls in the gutter. So much so that an attendant had to go into the lane and push the balls down the gutter. Trife. We men can be so shitty like that sometimes. Been there, done that, but at the same time you don't allow your kid to be put in some form of harm while you getting your swerve on.
Sunday I went to a cookout at my co-worker, D-Money's house. She lives in a very exclusive area of a DC suburb. She's cool, but it definitely showed with the house. High ceilings and about 10 powder rooms. D-Money has an interesting circle of friends and an odd living arrangement. She lives with a man, but according to her, they aren't an item. Just friends. Hmmm... Here is are the list of folks I met:
- a 20 yr old who already has written a book, gets paid for public speaking, is extremely politically active, and represented UNC in the collegiate Jeopardy Tournament.
- his girlfriend who was just as sharp but not as ambitious.
- his mom who had a mustache almost as thick as mine. Whoa.
- an employee of BET who sounded like Ertha Kitt when she said certain sentences. She also preferred Merlot. Now THAT; is a whole other convo in of itself.
- a mother of 5....count 'em, 5 chil'rens. If she went on a 10 week aerobics program, she'd be a top 10 MILF hands down.
- Vee. The shit talking-est, all-nite-spade-playin-est one at the party. Amazing that she works for one of the world's largest non-profits.
It was a good cookout. Me and D-Money went toe to toe jonin' on each other. I think she had me in the end though. Oh well, I'll get her next time. It was odd being the youngest TRUE adult there because they were entertained by just kickin' my ass in spades. After the whoppin', I was ready to do something else. The good thing for me was that when I left I could almost walk home.
Sexuality is something else, man. The way women are supposed to act in our society and the way men are allowed to act is so constricting. It seems that the only way a woman can get to express herself sexually is by writing a book or going to Mardi Gras and flashing where 10,000 other women are flashing. Over the years I've heard some interesting scenarios from women who carry themselves like nuns to the ones who have their sexuality on their sleeves. Even talking about sex in a certain way from a woman can cause one to be typecast as loose or slutty. That's too bad. It's got to be extremely frustrating to be limited in how you expressed yourself or brainwashed into thinking that a certain type of expression. Why am I typing all of this? I think because I'm fascinated by the dichotomy of perception and being in the American or Americanized woman.
Besides that, I likes to hear the freaky stories, MAN!
Thursday, June 23, 2005
These Dreams
It is now 4:14 a.m. and I can't sleep. Well, I can, but I'm too scared shitless to go back to sleep. When I have nightmares, rarely is the nightmare about me. Usually I'm watching whats going on, sort of like a movie you are forced to watch.
This one was wild as hell. It was about a sociopath step-father (starring...who? James Ingram?!??!) who married a woman who already had an adopted son. (She looked a little like my boss's wife {sorry, no pic. Just a regular ass looking sista} and the son was say an 18 or 19 yr version of Dolph Lundgren.) Ingram's son by some other woman is played by Mekhi Phifer who doesn't like either one of them but is the only person who Ingram genuinely wants to reach out to. The dream went like any horror flic when there is only one person who thinks there is something very wrong with said sociopath. What made it more impossible to believe that Ingram was nuts was Lundgren's personality. He was a big-time football jock who was never liked but respected by everyone in his high school. He is forced to come back home from college because of a career ending injury. So here you have 2 nuts in one household and the poor woman is just torn between the love of her son and her new husband. Throughout the dream, Lundgren's friends get killed off slow under the craziest of circumstances by Ingram. Unfortunately, what Lundgren sees is all circumstanstial. In the end, you think that the 2 are going to duke it out in the house which is what Lundgren wants. But Ingram is held back by the mother and kicks Lundgren out of the house with sledge hammer in hand. Lundgren walks away at peace and starts analyzing how he is going to put all the evidence together to have Ingram arrested. Besides that he's trying to figure out a place to live. Not so fast. When he gets to the park, he sees Ingram walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the park pushing what looks like a viola case with wheels and staring in his direction. A fire engine passes Lundgren and when it is gone, so is Ingram. Lundgren thinks "shit, he's way the hell over there. He can't do a damn thing." Wrong! This is a horror joint right? By the time Lundgren passes the park and crosses the busy street to continue his walk, boom. There is Ingram across the street staring at him with a twisted smile. Man! At this point I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't. So Lundgren picks up the pace and doesnt see Ingram behind him or across the street. But, up the hill comes a school bus that Ingram jacks (childless) and is approaching Lundgren. Lundgren manages to elude Ingram by crossing the busy street again. The problem is that this is the suburbs and there aint but so much sidewalk. So he's running up the hill of this busy street sidewalkless and damn if Ingram doesn't come again; this time behind him. Lundgren dives into the wooded area just missing getting hit by the bus. He runs thru that area up a hill where he reaches the back of a pharmacy (Rite Aid around these parts). He goes in thru the back, and in the front of the store, he sees Phifer and his boys. He approaches him about the whole thing of what just happened and gets the "fuck you AND that mutha fucka. " He looks playfully down the aisle "Shit! There go your Daddy right there!" And there is Ingram with something wrapped up tucked under his arm. He begins to rapidly approach. Lundgren in horror, tries to get away, but between Phifer and his boys, he is seriously slowed down.
That's when I woke my ass up. Scared-er than a mutha fucka! I think I had that dream because I have been reading in bits and pieces "The Corpse Had A Familiar Face" by Edna Buchanan. I've been reading that because I have this weird inclination to move to Miami and this book tells about the REAL Miami. One of the chapters was about a sociopath named Ray something. He detailed to her most of his murders because he thought he was going to get the death penalty. Well, he didn't because of our great legal system and actually was eligible for parole. Now, THAT was a scary kat too.
Before I forget, somehow in my horror dream I was about to get busy with a taller, less stocky version of a school mate of mine from George Mason who is now a notable television producer. GO figure.
One more thing....I have this reaccuring dream. In the dream I have to ride out to a funeral or to someone who is about to take their last breath. You know who I go to pick up in each of these dreams to ride with me each time? Fucking Norah Jones man! I aint even a fan which seems to translate into the dream. We never play her music or even her genre of music. All I know is someone will say "Aunt Sadie passed away last night. The funeral is Tuesday." I say something like "Aw that terrible. Let me go get Norah so we can going."
WTF??? And why does she go with me? Norah says "I don't like funerals or anything weird like that, it's just nice to get away." Also what comes out is the fact that no one at who's ever house we staying recognizes her and treats her normally. I think in one of the dreams an aunt or distant cousin of mine had her help straighten the living room because of people coming over for a reprise. Funny too, she has this thing for collard greens and corn bread.
All my B-more readers....know a good therapist? Oh! And if you can come up with an ending to the horror tale, that would be great. Otherwise my twisted little brain will hit rewind and I'll be hemmed up again in the near future.
Coming soon....The Ghetto Smurfs go to Appleby's. Eating good in the mutha fucken 'hood, sun!
This one was wild as hell. It was about a sociopath step-father (starring...who? James Ingram?!??!) who married a woman who already had an adopted son. (She looked a little like my boss's wife {sorry, no pic. Just a regular ass looking sista} and the son was say an 18 or 19 yr version of Dolph Lundgren.) Ingram's son by some other woman is played by Mekhi Phifer who doesn't like either one of them but is the only person who Ingram genuinely wants to reach out to. The dream went like any horror flic when there is only one person who thinks there is something very wrong with said sociopath. What made it more impossible to believe that Ingram was nuts was Lundgren's personality. He was a big-time football jock who was never liked but respected by everyone in his high school. He is forced to come back home from college because of a career ending injury. So here you have 2 nuts in one household and the poor woman is just torn between the love of her son and her new husband. Throughout the dream, Lundgren's friends get killed off slow under the craziest of circumstances by Ingram. Unfortunately, what Lundgren sees is all circumstanstial. In the end, you think that the 2 are going to duke it out in the house which is what Lundgren wants. But Ingram is held back by the mother and kicks Lundgren out of the house with sledge hammer in hand. Lundgren walks away at peace and starts analyzing how he is going to put all the evidence together to have Ingram arrested. Besides that he's trying to figure out a place to live. Not so fast. When he gets to the park, he sees Ingram walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the park pushing what looks like a viola case with wheels and staring in his direction. A fire engine passes Lundgren and when it is gone, so is Ingram. Lundgren thinks "shit, he's way the hell over there. He can't do a damn thing." Wrong! This is a horror joint right? By the time Lundgren passes the park and crosses the busy street to continue his walk, boom. There is Ingram across the street staring at him with a twisted smile. Man! At this point I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't. So Lundgren picks up the pace and doesnt see Ingram behind him or across the street. But, up the hill comes a school bus that Ingram jacks (childless) and is approaching Lundgren. Lundgren manages to elude Ingram by crossing the busy street again. The problem is that this is the suburbs and there aint but so much sidewalk. So he's running up the hill of this busy street sidewalkless and damn if Ingram doesn't come again; this time behind him. Lundgren dives into the wooded area just missing getting hit by the bus. He runs thru that area up a hill where he reaches the back of a pharmacy (Rite Aid around these parts). He goes in thru the back, and in the front of the store, he sees Phifer and his boys. He approaches him about the whole thing of what just happened and gets the "fuck you AND that mutha fucka. " He looks playfully down the aisle "Shit! There go your Daddy right there!" And there is Ingram with something wrapped up tucked under his arm. He begins to rapidly approach. Lundgren in horror, tries to get away, but between Phifer and his boys, he is seriously slowed down.
That's when I woke my ass up. Scared-er than a mutha fucka! I think I had that dream because I have been reading in bits and pieces "The Corpse Had A Familiar Face" by Edna Buchanan. I've been reading that because I have this weird inclination to move to Miami and this book tells about the REAL Miami. One of the chapters was about a sociopath named Ray something. He detailed to her most of his murders because he thought he was going to get the death penalty. Well, he didn't because of our great legal system and actually was eligible for parole. Now, THAT was a scary kat too.
Before I forget, somehow in my horror dream I was about to get busy with a taller, less stocky version of a school mate of mine from George Mason who is now a notable television producer. GO figure.
One more thing....I have this reaccuring dream. In the dream I have to ride out to a funeral or to someone who is about to take their last breath. You know who I go to pick up in each of these dreams to ride with me each time? Fucking Norah Jones man! I aint even a fan which seems to translate into the dream. We never play her music or even her genre of music. All I know is someone will say "Aunt Sadie passed away last night. The funeral is Tuesday." I say something like "Aw that terrible. Let me go get Norah so we can going."
WTF??? And why does she go with me? Norah says "I don't like funerals or anything weird like that, it's just nice to get away." Also what comes out is the fact that no one at who's ever house we staying recognizes her and treats her normally. I think in one of the dreams an aunt or distant cousin of mine had her help straighten the living room because of people coming over for a reprise. Funny too, she has this thing for collard greens and corn bread.
All my B-more readers....know a good therapist? Oh! And if you can come up with an ending to the horror tale, that would be great. Otherwise my twisted little brain will hit rewind and I'll be hemmed up again in the near future.
Coming soon....The Ghetto Smurfs go to Appleby's. Eating good in the mutha fucken 'hood, sun!
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Party for the Boy! (yeah right)
Man, I am really slacking on this blog. I have plenty to blog about, but I really haven't been in a blogging mood lately. Also, its the summertime, I really dont want to sit on my ass for an hour and a half to blog. Blogging is very difficult at work because I dont have a sit down job anymore. So, bear with me until the fall hits and the like. Right now there are WAY too many sun dresses distracting me. Below is the blog entry I've been trying to write for 2 weeks. Trife.
Last Sat. was my cousin's graduation party. Well, not really because more of his parent's friend's showed up than his. Initially it was going to be a cookout, but because of the excessive heat, it was brought indoor with the most merciful AC. Funny how when blacks or latinos (mostly puerto ricans and dominicans) have parties for their children, its more for them. This party was no different. Instead of endless Mario, Mike Jones or Ludacris cuts, I compiled an mp3 cd of Joss Stone, Raphael Sadiq, Dwele, and Roy Ayers (among others). Liquor? Shiiiit! More beer than sodas or them damn Lil' Hugs for sure!
The party was a blast. There was plenty of good food and music. What was really great was that the Old Crew was together. Me, Glueman, Cannonball, and our incognito homeboy DirtyLou. Now that nickname is not one I concocted for the use anonimity, but that is his real nickname from back in the day. For what reason I have no idea. He was just as dirty as the rest of us as kids and he was very nice (no where near dirty as in low-down, dirty shame or something). I think we got the nickname for our love of pro wrestling and the presence of Captain Lou Albano. A little more background about DirtyLou; he was the 1st of us to get his degree, but he has yet to land a job over $40K and won't stay at a job longer than say....9 months. As soon as he has the SLIGHTEST conflict with a supervisor, he simply quits.
And there I go digressing again. So all of us were there laughing, Joning, drinking. It was great. Here were some of the topics discussed.
Why is Eva Mendes taking all of the roles in movies that were traditionally for Black women? This wasn't a complaint by any man in there, just an observation.
Answer: We ain't know. However, I after the party I asked my artsy fartsy lesbian cousin who said that Eva is getting all of those roles because for one she doesn't mind playing them (ladies, Denzel. Will. Would YOU??) and it is easier for a latina to be assimilated into the mainstream than it is for a black woman. If there is a black man and black woman as the main characters, then the movie is considered a BLACK movies. If its a black man and a latina (or any 2 minorities for that matter), then its just a movie that happens to have an interracial relationship. I agreed with her.
Who is the bangingest chic in the movies?
Answer:
Eva Mendes
Gabrielle Union
The dark skinned chic that was in "Set It Off"
Stacy Dash
Nia Long
"Bird" from Soul Food
What were some of the best movies of all times?
Answer:
Warriors
Predator
The 5 Heartbeats
**there were more, but I was too busy laughing at the "Warriors" answer to hear the others.**
Last Sat. was my cousin's graduation party. Well, not really because more of his parent's friend's showed up than his. Initially it was going to be a cookout, but because of the excessive heat, it was brought indoor with the most merciful AC. Funny how when blacks or latinos (mostly puerto ricans and dominicans) have parties for their children, its more for them. This party was no different. Instead of endless Mario, Mike Jones or Ludacris cuts, I compiled an mp3 cd of Joss Stone, Raphael Sadiq, Dwele, and Roy Ayers (among others). Liquor? Shiiiit! More beer than sodas or them damn Lil' Hugs for sure!
The party was a blast. There was plenty of good food and music. What was really great was that the Old Crew was together. Me, Glueman, Cannonball, and our incognito homeboy DirtyLou. Now that nickname is not one I concocted for the use anonimity, but that is his real nickname from back in the day. For what reason I have no idea. He was just as dirty as the rest of us as kids and he was very nice (no where near dirty as in low-down, dirty shame or something). I think we got the nickname for our love of pro wrestling and the presence of Captain Lou Albano. A little more background about DirtyLou; he was the 1st of us to get his degree, but he has yet to land a job over $40K and won't stay at a job longer than say....9 months. As soon as he has the SLIGHTEST conflict with a supervisor, he simply quits.
And there I go digressing again. So all of us were there laughing, Joning, drinking. It was great. Here were some of the topics discussed.
Why is Eva Mendes taking all of the roles in movies that were traditionally for Black women? This wasn't a complaint by any man in there, just an observation.
Answer: We ain't know. However, I after the party I asked my artsy fartsy lesbian cousin who said that Eva is getting all of those roles because for one she doesn't mind playing them (ladies, Denzel. Will. Would YOU??) and it is easier for a latina to be assimilated into the mainstream than it is for a black woman. If there is a black man and black woman as the main characters, then the movie is considered a BLACK movies. If its a black man and a latina (or any 2 minorities for that matter), then its just a movie that happens to have an interracial relationship. I agreed with her.
Who is the bangingest chic in the movies?
Answer:
Eva Mendes
Gabrielle Union
The dark skinned chic that was in "Set It Off"
Stacy Dash
Nia Long
"Bird" from Soul Food
What were some of the best movies of all times?
Answer:
Warriors
Predator
The 5 Heartbeats
**there were more, but I was too busy laughing at the "Warriors" answer to hear the others.**
Now the most bothersome series of events was the interaction of DirtyLou and his homeboy. Everytime we have an event, DirtyLou never comes with a woman, he always comes with a homeboy or solo. Hmmm. I didn't even notice this until Cannonball says "Who's little girls are those?"
Me: Oh. Those are DirtyLou's friend's girls.
Cannonball: Oh aight. Where is she?
Me: She who?
Cannonball: DirtyLou's girl.
Me: No, no, no. His friend as in his homeboy, not his girl.
Cannonball: Ahhh. Aight den.
**exchange of "things that make you go 'hmmm" looks**
That lit the lightbulb. It got worse. Seems that wherever DirtyLou went, dude was sure to follow. I'M HOPING it was because he felt really uncomfortable around strangers. Otherwise, it was the other thing. OMG....what if??? And when we brought up the gay rumor (I'll blog about that some other time if you wish), he didn't really laugh. No real reaction at all really. I'm worried. Well, not really that much now because I come to realize I've known this man for 27 years. We practically grew up together. He still gonna be my boy. I still got love for him (even if he prefers the chocolate back alley over the creamy street....ish)
Katie Holmes may be the next Wonder Woman. Y'all know how I feel about that. I'm blown. Fuck Katie Holmes and Hollywood. And people get mad at me because I refuse to go to certain movies because there ain't enough black people in it. Hmph!Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Jessica Alba
Some fashion faux paus are off the chain! Fellas, make sure you click each pic to see the full size version. Ladies...I dunno. I guess you can be appalled or something. This one is for the menz!
Monday, June 13, 2005
Ghetto Smurfs
I wasn't smokin' weed or nothing today, but what if there was a Ghetto Smurfs cartoon? Here is the character breakdown:
Papa Smurf: the pimp, the loan shark, and just like on the current cartoon, the one that everybody goes to for advice.
RandomSmurf: Papa Smurf, I be havin' problems, dog.
PapaSmurf: What the deal?
RandomSmurf: Yo, it's my girl, dog. She be stealin' money and shit out my wallet while I be sleep.
PapaSmurf: Wait 'til the bitch is sleep and shit. Then you gently put some handcuffs on her and handcuff dat ass to the bed. Wake her ass up with a slap and say "Keep stealin' ma shit now, bitch!"
RandomSmurf: oh word?
PapaSmurf: Yeah. Handle that shit.
CookySmurf: This is the kat who got a "catering" business on the side, but we all know the only thing he got locked down is his convenience store.
RandomSmurf: **entering the store with his smurfs** Hey Cook-kay! What the deal son?
CookySmurf: Ain’t nuthin’. Wassup?
RandomSmurf: Hey yo, yo, yo, yo….check this out, check this out, check this out….Me and my girl, right? We got into it, right? And when we was arguing, she was like, “don’t you…”
CookySmurf: Mutha fucka, get to the damn point.
RandomSmurf: Aight, aight! What I’m sayin’ is , that she was dippin’ in my loot and shit, man. She got a nigga ALL twisted!
CookySmurf: **picking up a cleaver** You stupid mutha fucka! I’m about to bust yo ass up in here!
RandomSmurf: **backing out** Hold up, dog. Hold up. Can I get a soda before I go?
CookySmurf: Go ma fucka! Get the fuck outta here!
RandomSmurf: How about a thing of papers?
CookySmurf: Go!
TrickSmurf: This is Smurfette gone bad. She’d do anything for a dollar, wears her hair a different color every week, and zero couth.
TrickSmurf: **singing, entering store** Cooooook-keeey! Oh Cooooook-keeey!
CookySmurf: What up girl. What you need.
TrickSmurf: Oh Cooky, I got problems baby.
CookySmurf: Oh yeah? Tell Cooky all about it.
TrickSmurf: Well, PapaSmurf was over my crib the other day and he be trippin’! He trying to evicted me!
CookySmurf: Evict?? Why baby?
TrickSmurf: I’m late on my shit, baby. **approaching sensuously** You think you can help me out, boo?
CookySmurf: How?
TrickSmurf: You can….cover me and get PapaSmurf off my back.
CookySmurf: Oh! So you want me to go ahead and pay that shit, huh?
TrickSmurf: Well if you offering baby….
CookySmurf: yeah, I’m offering. But you know I gotta be reciprocated.
TrickSmurf: Oh yeah? What?
CookySmurf: **smile** You gotta toss my smurf.
TrickSmurf: WHAT?
CookySmurf: You heard me….. You gotta toss my smurf.
TrickSmurf: I don’t know about all that….
CookySmurf: Then I don’t know all about paying that shit then.
TrickSmurf: Aight. Come on. **leading him to the back of the store**
HandySmurf: He would be the kat always fixin' something, except ghetto style. For those of y'all who don't know what that means, he'd be the hood car mechanic, plumber, ac repair man, etc.
TrickSmurf: Handy when you comin' thru.
HandySmurf: Oh, you done changed your mind, huh? **wink**
TrickSmurf: **sucking teeth, rolling eyes, with hand on hips** You NEEDS to stop trippin'. I need yo ass to come thru and fix dat plumbin' in my mushroom. There's water all over the kitchen.
HandySmurf: hmmm....you gonna give me some of dat ass?
TrickSmurf: Handy! What you think this is?? You supposed to be looking out for a sista! Fuck you! Ain't nobody thinking about your little dried up, crusty blue dick.
HandySmurf: Funny you ain't say that to CookySmurf last Friday.
TrickSmurf: **walking away** Fuck you.
BlubianSmurf: This smurf is the ghetto version of Brainy Smurf, knows everything but don’t know a damn thing. And always using words he doesn’t know the meaning of.
**BlubianSmurf approaches Jonin’Smurf and his girl, BoricuaSmurf**
BoricuaSmurf: **whispering, but still loud as shit** Oh chit. Here comes dat fuckin’ Blub’an Smurf. He make me sick.
BlubianSmurf: No need to be disarrayed, my blubian sister. I’ve just come to drop that knowledge on you and your sun* so that the 2 of you may prosper in this white man’s wilderness.
Jonin’Smurf: What you know good, Blubian?
BlubianSmurf: Well my azure brother, last night I was reading Smurf X and he said we need to fight the powers that be. The white devil.
BoricuaSmurf: **hands on hips popping gum** ‘old up, ‘old up. Lemmie get dis straight, ok? You tellin’ me that we need to fight the white devil, right?
BlubianSmurf: That is right, sweet pearl of the Smurf Nile.
BoricuaSmurf: **Rolling eyes** What-eva. So tell me, Blu, who da fuck is dis white devil?
Jonin’Smurf : **snickering**
BlubianSmurf: My sister, you know as well as well as I do who that is.
Jonin’Smurf: Gargamelle Mel?
BlubianSmurf: Bursitis-ly, my brother!
**both looking at each other**
BoricuaSmurf: Ok, first of all? Gargamelle Mel is a fockin’ drunk who can’t see his dick if he was pissin’ on hisself. An’ dee ova thing, why jew always talkin’ like dat? What da fock?
BlubianSmurf: First of all sister you should read Smurf X yourself because then you would know that he said that a person who uses propanity does NOT know the real way to express himself. And the words of Smurf X provide knowledge of self. A…..gate for looking into one’s 3rd Eye Blind.
BoricuaSmurf: What-eva! You be buggin’.
Jonin’Smurf: **snickering** Yeah, yo mama so mad at your dumbness, she told you you needed a haircut, so she just wiped her ass.
**both laughing and walking away**
BlubianSmurf: Laugh now, my brethren, but you better not forget that we didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us!
**to be continued. Maybe…..**
Papa Smurf: the pimp, the loan shark, and just like on the current cartoon, the one that everybody goes to for advice.
RandomSmurf: Papa Smurf, I be havin' problems, dog.
PapaSmurf: What the deal?
RandomSmurf: Yo, it's my girl, dog. She be stealin' money and shit out my wallet while I be sleep.
PapaSmurf: Wait 'til the bitch is sleep and shit. Then you gently put some handcuffs on her and handcuff dat ass to the bed. Wake her ass up with a slap and say "Keep stealin' ma shit now, bitch!"
RandomSmurf: oh word?
PapaSmurf: Yeah. Handle that shit.
CookySmurf: This is the kat who got a "catering" business on the side, but we all know the only thing he got locked down is his convenience store.
RandomSmurf: **entering the store with his smurfs** Hey Cook-kay! What the deal son?
CookySmurf: Ain’t nuthin’. Wassup?
RandomSmurf: Hey yo, yo, yo, yo….check this out, check this out, check this out….Me and my girl, right? We got into it, right? And when we was arguing, she was like, “don’t you…”
CookySmurf: Mutha fucka, get to the damn point.
RandomSmurf: Aight, aight! What I’m sayin’ is , that she was dippin’ in my loot and shit, man. She got a nigga ALL twisted!
CookySmurf: **picking up a cleaver** You stupid mutha fucka! I’m about to bust yo ass up in here!
RandomSmurf: **backing out** Hold up, dog. Hold up. Can I get a soda before I go?
CookySmurf: Go ma fucka! Get the fuck outta here!
RandomSmurf: How about a thing of papers?
CookySmurf: Go!
TrickSmurf: This is Smurfette gone bad. She’d do anything for a dollar, wears her hair a different color every week, and zero couth.
TrickSmurf: **singing, entering store** Cooooook-keeey! Oh Cooooook-keeey!
CookySmurf: What up girl. What you need.
TrickSmurf: Oh Cooky, I got problems baby.
CookySmurf: Oh yeah? Tell Cooky all about it.
TrickSmurf: Well, PapaSmurf was over my crib the other day and he be trippin’! He trying to evicted me!
CookySmurf: Evict?? Why baby?
TrickSmurf: I’m late on my shit, baby. **approaching sensuously** You think you can help me out, boo?
CookySmurf: How?
TrickSmurf: You can….cover me and get PapaSmurf off my back.
CookySmurf: Oh! So you want me to go ahead and pay that shit, huh?
TrickSmurf: Well if you offering baby….
CookySmurf: yeah, I’m offering. But you know I gotta be reciprocated.
TrickSmurf: Oh yeah? What?
CookySmurf: **smile** You gotta toss my smurf.
TrickSmurf: WHAT?
CookySmurf: You heard me….. You gotta toss my smurf.
TrickSmurf: I don’t know about all that….
CookySmurf: Then I don’t know all about paying that shit then.
TrickSmurf: Aight. Come on. **leading him to the back of the store**
HandySmurf: He would be the kat always fixin' something, except ghetto style. For those of y'all who don't know what that means, he'd be the hood car mechanic, plumber, ac repair man, etc.
TrickSmurf: Handy when you comin' thru.
HandySmurf: Oh, you done changed your mind, huh? **wink**
TrickSmurf: **sucking teeth, rolling eyes, with hand on hips** You NEEDS to stop trippin'. I need yo ass to come thru and fix dat plumbin' in my mushroom. There's water all over the kitchen.
HandySmurf: hmmm....you gonna give me some of dat ass?
TrickSmurf: Handy! What you think this is?? You supposed to be looking out for a sista! Fuck you! Ain't nobody thinking about your little dried up, crusty blue dick.
HandySmurf: Funny you ain't say that to CookySmurf last Friday.
TrickSmurf: **walking away** Fuck you.
BlubianSmurf: This smurf is the ghetto version of Brainy Smurf, knows everything but don’t know a damn thing. And always using words he doesn’t know the meaning of.
**BlubianSmurf approaches Jonin’Smurf and his girl, BoricuaSmurf**
BoricuaSmurf: **whispering, but still loud as shit** Oh chit. Here comes dat fuckin’ Blub’an Smurf. He make me sick.
BlubianSmurf: No need to be disarrayed, my blubian sister. I’ve just come to drop that knowledge on you and your sun* so that the 2 of you may prosper in this white man’s wilderness.
Jonin’Smurf: What you know good, Blubian?
BlubianSmurf: Well my azure brother, last night I was reading Smurf X and he said we need to fight the powers that be. The white devil.
BoricuaSmurf: **hands on hips popping gum** ‘old up, ‘old up. Lemmie get dis straight, ok? You tellin’ me that we need to fight the white devil, right?
BlubianSmurf: That is right, sweet pearl of the Smurf Nile.
BoricuaSmurf: **Rolling eyes** What-eva. So tell me, Blu, who da fuck is dis white devil?
Jonin’Smurf : **snickering**
BlubianSmurf: My sister, you know as well as well as I do who that is.
Jonin’Smurf: Gargamelle Mel?
BlubianSmurf: Bursitis-ly, my brother!
**both looking at each other**
BoricuaSmurf: Ok, first of all? Gargamelle Mel is a fockin’ drunk who can’t see his dick if he was pissin’ on hisself. An’ dee ova thing, why jew always talkin’ like dat? What da fock?
BlubianSmurf: First of all sister you should read Smurf X yourself because then you would know that he said that a person who uses propanity does NOT know the real way to express himself. And the words of Smurf X provide knowledge of self. A…..gate for looking into one’s 3rd Eye Blind.
BoricuaSmurf: What-eva! You be buggin’.
Jonin’Smurf: **snickering** Yeah, yo mama so mad at your dumbness, she told you you needed a haircut, so she just wiped her ass.
**both laughing and walking away**
BlubianSmurf: Laugh now, my brethren, but you better not forget that we didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us!
**to be continued. Maybe…..**
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Wednesday's News
Today was a beautiful day for news. I talked to Jessica #1 today. She is doing great. As a matter of fact, she next week is her last visit to her oncologist. **STANDING OVATION!!** She says she feels like a crackehead fiending because her doctor is weaning her off of her medication. She is a cancer survivor and at one point had a 50% survival rate. And even though she has some drama with her man and some other issues, she managed to beat her cancer. You gotta love that. She's my heroin (the non-pokey kind).
I walk funny. I notice that shit everytime I see my reflection in a window. I think its the deformity caused by my obesity. The stomach pulls down harder towards the earth so that it looks like I'm constantly falling and I'm using my fat ass as a bouy. Trife. But so far I've lost about 8lbs and counting.
Remember that song by that real skinny gay dude with the pinstripped suit? Ok, so I discribed a sizable amount of the singers from back in the 80's. But I saw the guy who sang "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off" in the supermarket. He was about 6' 20 with processed hair and so skinny that if he turned sideways he'd disappear. It was one of those weird flashbacks.
Asexuality is fucking with me. Weird dreams are beginnning. I'm going to spare the details (at least in this post) and just say that in the dream I had somebody bent over a couch and she was loving it.
Onion Update:
white girl onions for month of May: 4.
So far for June: 0.
From blogger(since May):1.
I walk funny. I notice that shit everytime I see my reflection in a window. I think its the deformity caused by my obesity. The stomach pulls down harder towards the earth so that it looks like I'm constantly falling and I'm using my fat ass as a bouy. Trife. But so far I've lost about 8lbs and counting.
Remember that song by that real skinny gay dude with the pinstripped suit? Ok, so I discribed a sizable amount of the singers from back in the 80's. But I saw the guy who sang "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off" in the supermarket. He was about 6' 20 with processed hair and so skinny that if he turned sideways he'd disappear. It was one of those weird flashbacks.
Asexuality is fucking with me. Weird dreams are beginnning. I'm going to spare the details (at least in this post) and just say that in the dream I had somebody bent over a couch and she was loving it.
Onion Update:
white girl onions for month of May: 4.
So far for June: 0.
From blogger(since May):1.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Commando Ko
Once every 75 years Hailey's Comet passes thru our solar system.
Once every 17 years, the locust emerge from the ground.
Once every few years, there is a multiple eclipse.
......and....
Once every year or 2, I go commando.
That's right. Today I am briefless, horse with no Jockey, sans da draws.
"What happened?" you ask? Shit! I'd like to know myself! I came home last night knowing that I needed to wash clothes. But I was relying on having a pair of draws in my gym bag. I did have a pair, but they were dirty enough to walk by themselves. I desperately dug into my box (I'm still living out of an HP printer box) and all I could come up with was a pair of polyester shorts. "Hmmm....commando or having my ass and balls get gnarled by the burlap-like texture of polyester?"
Commando was the choice. So now I'm all self-conscience and I pray that this is not the day that I get into a serious accident so that mom won't ask " Did he have clean draws on?" and the reply would be "Shit no! He ain't even have on any draws! Question ma'am....were his pants originally brown pin-striped?"
I sent out an email so some friends to discribe me in one word. Please fell free to follow suit.
Last day of school, and these kids never cease to amaze me. You would expect a school full of truant, disfunctional, rude, and non-academically inclined kids to just abandon school on the last day. nope. We have about 20 kids here when we usually have about 45. Personally, I'm shocked. **Update: Seems that there IS a reason some kids came to school. Just 10 mins ago 2 students were found in one of the bathrooms boning. Efficient, cheap, but evidently not secluded enough.**
And you know whats good to me in the summer time? A cold glass of chocolate milk. Yeah. That creamy taste and smoothness running down your throat on a hot day. The beauty of the condesation hugging to the glass. The traces it leaves of mauve artistic smears inside the glass. The mark it leaves on the lid of your glass and around your mouth symbolizing the joy creates from one small glass of elixir....
Of course, this is out of the question today since I work in a hotbox with no circulation. The verdict? Farting in my own nose with no windows.
Once every 17 years, the locust emerge from the ground.
Once every few years, there is a multiple eclipse.
......and....
Once every year or 2, I go commando.
That's right. Today I am briefless, horse with no Jockey, sans da draws.
"What happened?" you ask? Shit! I'd like to know myself! I came home last night knowing that I needed to wash clothes. But I was relying on having a pair of draws in my gym bag. I did have a pair, but they were dirty enough to walk by themselves. I desperately dug into my box (I'm still living out of an HP printer box) and all I could come up with was a pair of polyester shorts. "Hmmm....commando or having my ass and balls get gnarled by the burlap-like texture of polyester?"
Commando was the choice. So now I'm all self-conscience and I pray that this is not the day that I get into a serious accident so that mom won't ask " Did he have clean draws on?" and the reply would be "Shit no! He ain't even have on any draws! Question ma'am....were his pants originally brown pin-striped?"
I sent out an email so some friends to discribe me in one word. Please fell free to follow suit.
Last day of school, and these kids never cease to amaze me. You would expect a school full of truant, disfunctional, rude, and non-academically inclined kids to just abandon school on the last day. nope. We have about 20 kids here when we usually have about 45. Personally, I'm shocked. **Update: Seems that there IS a reason some kids came to school. Just 10 mins ago 2 students were found in one of the bathrooms boning. Efficient, cheap, but evidently not secluded enough.**
And you know whats good to me in the summer time? A cold glass of chocolate milk. Yeah. That creamy taste and smoothness running down your throat on a hot day. The beauty of the condesation hugging to the glass. The traces it leaves of mauve artistic smears inside the glass. The mark it leaves on the lid of your glass and around your mouth symbolizing the joy creates from one small glass of elixir....
Of course, this is out of the question today since I work in a hotbox with no circulation. The verdict? Farting in my own nose with no windows.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Monday
Monday I shared a convo with HourGlass that was to say the least interesting.
...for real. i ain't fuck with nobody in over a year.
Me: Yeah right.
HourGlass: I'm serious. There is too much shit to go with that and all the drama I've been going thru with the brother (she didnt really say "brother", but I don't want to offend anyone) I was dealing with last year; Hasan's father.
Me: Is that right?
HourGlass: Yeah.
Me: So you trying to tell me that you're asexual?
HourGlass: Yeah. Wait. Let me hear your definition first before I go out in the streets telling people I'm asexual.
Me: You know; an asexual person is some one who has no desire for sex or sexual interaction from either the same sex or the opposite sex.
HourGlass: Yup! That's me. I don't feel like being bothered with no of that shit. Mainly because you have expectations from a brother (again, not the same word) and you get mad or hurt if it don't happen.
Me: Then that ain't asexual.
HourGlass: Why not?
Me: Because you don't want to have sex because of the consequences. The aftermath. An asexual person doesn't care, they just don't want to have sex period.
HourGlass: Oh, ok. I see what you saying now.
Me: Yeah. That's my goal in life. I've been working on it too.
HourGlass: (giving an incredulous glance) You.
Me: Yeah me sista (again, not the same word)! Shit. I'm tired of waking up in in the morning with a fucken sex headache. Man, like today I was doing good. I drove up here and didnt have one sexual thought until I saw this girl walking down the street.
HourGlass: You mean 'round here??!?!
Me: Yeah man! Damn, not everybody around here is ugly!
HourGlass: (laughs)
Me: Anyway, she was lookin' so good! Tight shorts and a tight top. She was standing....
HourGlass: How old was she?
Me: Uh.....I dunno. (embarrassed now)
HourGlass: Mmmm hmmm. I don't think you asexual either.
Me: (getting loud) Hey hey hey! I SAID I'm workin' on it!
...for real. i ain't fuck with nobody in over a year.
Me: Yeah right.
HourGlass: I'm serious. There is too much shit to go with that and all the drama I've been going thru with the brother (she didnt really say "brother", but I don't want to offend anyone) I was dealing with last year; Hasan's father.
Me: Is that right?
HourGlass: Yeah.
Me: So you trying to tell me that you're asexual?
HourGlass: Yeah. Wait. Let me hear your definition first before I go out in the streets telling people I'm asexual.
Me: You know; an asexual person is some one who has no desire for sex or sexual interaction from either the same sex or the opposite sex.
HourGlass: Yup! That's me. I don't feel like being bothered with no of that shit. Mainly because you have expectations from a brother (again, not the same word) and you get mad or hurt if it don't happen.
Me: Then that ain't asexual.
HourGlass: Why not?
Me: Because you don't want to have sex because of the consequences. The aftermath. An asexual person doesn't care, they just don't want to have sex period.
HourGlass: Oh, ok. I see what you saying now.
Me: Yeah. That's my goal in life. I've been working on it too.
HourGlass: (giving an incredulous glance) You.
Me: Yeah me sista (again, not the same word)! Shit. I'm tired of waking up in in the morning with a fucken sex headache. Man, like today I was doing good. I drove up here and didnt have one sexual thought until I saw this girl walking down the street.
HourGlass: You mean 'round here??!?!
Me: Yeah man! Damn, not everybody around here is ugly!
HourGlass: (laughs)
Me: Anyway, she was lookin' so good! Tight shorts and a tight top. She was standing....
HourGlass: How old was she?
Me: Uh.....I dunno. (embarrassed now)
HourGlass: Mmmm hmmm. I don't think you asexual either.
Me: (getting loud) Hey hey hey! I SAID I'm workin' on it!
Monday, June 06, 2005
Weekend with Chappelle
I finally got the opportunity to see the Dave Chappelle Show dvd this weekend. Man, TOO hilarious. I highly reccommend it for all of those looking for something to put in your Friday night dvd rotation.
I also would like to reccommend the muder mystery Fearless Jones by Walter Mosley. Within the 1st 10 pages of the book, its on and doesn't stop. I WAS jealous of the main character though. Since I spent the weekend with the book, he got laid more than I did. Bitter about that.
I have a weird topic to discuss, that is asexuality. That's when a person has no desire to have sex or sexual activities. For me, this would be zen. I would love to be able to have this convo with a woman without later wanting to call up Rosie Palmer:
Woman: So, what do you think about my outfit? (uses her hands to gesture to her attire)
Me: Hmmm......Looks pretty good. Let me see it from the back.
Woman: (twirls around) Do you think its too tight around her? (rubbing her ass)
Me: No, no. It looks good. Really shows off what you got in a conservatively sexy way. The problem I have with top.
Woman: (faces me again) what's wrong with it?
Me: Well, when your nipples get hard, the tightness of the top REALLY accentuates that.
Woman: (covering her nipples) uh oh!
Me: Yeah, it does. But its ok. Very sexy.
Woman: Thank you sweety. You're the best!
Me: Hey! No problem. (exuent.....skipping)
Man....that would be so great! Then not having to go to bed all bent up, having to sneak the ugly chic in and out of your crib......Man! I could just read books and play ping pong.
Saturday my cousin graduated high school. He was a little mad that I didn't scream from the bleachers when they called his name. I thought he would have been embarrassed; and his parents are pretty conservative so I chilled. What's really is embarrassing is what happened at the very beginning of the graduation. There was a fight in the stands! Can you believe that??? A fight....at a graduation. And its not like this is some run-of-the-mill high school. This is one of the premier public high schools in the state. All of the graduates from that school can go to any public institution in the state. Auto-in. But they have peeps who wanna fight at the gradution. B-more at its best.
I would LOVE to hear some high school graduation day stories. Mine was me being stuck in Cincinatti. I had to leave school early because I got a scholarship to go to Tuskegee University. The plan was to leave early, take my finals down there, and come back to walk for graduation. Well, the plane was delayed in Montgomery for 3 hours and I missed the flight out of Cincinatti. Weeks later, I STILL hadn't taken my high school finals and I ended up taking them a week before my college finals down at Skegee. So to this day, I have yet to graduate school. Ain't THAT a bitch!
I also would like to reccommend the muder mystery Fearless Jones by Walter Mosley. Within the 1st 10 pages of the book, its on and doesn't stop. I WAS jealous of the main character though. Since I spent the weekend with the book, he got laid more than I did. Bitter about that.
I have a weird topic to discuss, that is asexuality. That's when a person has no desire to have sex or sexual activities. For me, this would be zen. I would love to be able to have this convo with a woman without later wanting to call up Rosie Palmer:
Woman: So, what do you think about my outfit? (uses her hands to gesture to her attire)
Me: Hmmm......Looks pretty good. Let me see it from the back.
Woman: (twirls around) Do you think its too tight around her? (rubbing her ass)
Me: No, no. It looks good. Really shows off what you got in a conservatively sexy way. The problem I have with top.
Woman: (faces me again) what's wrong with it?
Me: Well, when your nipples get hard, the tightness of the top REALLY accentuates that.
Woman: (covering her nipples) uh oh!
Me: Yeah, it does. But its ok. Very sexy.
Woman: Thank you sweety. You're the best!
Me: Hey! No problem. (exuent.....skipping)
Man....that would be so great! Then not having to go to bed all bent up, having to sneak the ugly chic in and out of your crib......Man! I could just read books and play ping pong.
Saturday my cousin graduated high school. He was a little mad that I didn't scream from the bleachers when they called his name. I thought he would have been embarrassed; and his parents are pretty conservative so I chilled. What's really is embarrassing is what happened at the very beginning of the graduation. There was a fight in the stands! Can you believe that??? A fight....at a graduation. And its not like this is some run-of-the-mill high school. This is one of the premier public high schools in the state. All of the graduates from that school can go to any public institution in the state. Auto-in. But they have peeps who wanna fight at the gradution. B-more at its best.
I would LOVE to hear some high school graduation day stories. Mine was me being stuck in Cincinatti. I had to leave school early because I got a scholarship to go to Tuskegee University. The plan was to leave early, take my finals down there, and come back to walk for graduation. Well, the plane was delayed in Montgomery for 3 hours and I missed the flight out of Cincinatti. Weeks later, I STILL hadn't taken my high school finals and I ended up taking them a week before my college finals down at Skegee. So to this day, I have yet to graduate school. Ain't THAT a bitch!
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
I'm back!
And crazy refreshed. Man.....I BE FEELIN' GOOD! I got plenty 0f rest. The problem is, I don't have anything to blog! So...in times of emergency, I'm gonna go random again.
How many of you are bi or trilingual? Either way, why do y'all speak in some other language, but use American curse words? Like "Vladimir....rtsh vut jer jher nyet. Bort tyervich shit vlifclto den."
"Da?"
"Da. Fuck shit gvht ayi riffi toock rie."
**laughter**
I noticed this at the Y today. Forgive me for my dilapidated Russian. I haven't pimped it in a while. And speaking of the Y, can you say "shower shoes"? I always were them regardless but after looking under one of the shower benches today I was CONVINCED that it was the only way to fly.
Flying. When I was on the airplane this weekend, some little bastard was kicking the shit outta my seat from the back. I figured I'd used the good ol' go to, Big Black Scary Man with Dreds but instead I targeted it at the parent. I caught his ass with my best BA Barracus stare and he veered ever so slightly. I saw him lean over and say something to the offspring and the kicking stopped. For a minute. I started thinking about all of the different ways I could squash that kicking. Turning around and saying "hey short-ta, hey short-ta! (shorty) YOu better cut that kicking shit out! Its a long ass fall from here to Buffalo!" Or the Dr. Spock way "You don't have to do that, Little Child. Its not very respectful. I wouldn't do that to you because I would want to be nice to you and respectful to you and shit. You would want to do that too, wouldn't you, Little Child?" By the time I figured out the best approach, the landing gear was down and the plane was banking port. I was relieved that I didn't because when we disembarked, I saw that the culprit was about 30 lbs and 28 inches tall. Still in a car seat. Whew!
Friendships are a funny thing. Its amazing that I have so many good ones. What plucks my chicken is when you finally consider someone a friend they do something stupid to fuck the thing up. The good thing is it doesn't hurt my feelings, its more irritating than anything else. **rolling eyes**
One of the radio stations in the DC area is calling June 6 (Monday) Sun Dress Day. All of the women in the DC area are asked to wear their sun dresses that day; even to work. Should be great one. **smile** Zulu, I've seen you in your sundress....very very nice.
One last thing, I will be publishing my 100 Things About Me, but I think I'm going to twist it a little. I haven't figured out how yet, but Imma do it just the same.
I'm out.
How many of you are bi or trilingual? Either way, why do y'all speak in some other language, but use American curse words? Like "Vladimir....rtsh vut jer jher nyet. Bort tyervich shit vlifclto den."
"Da?"
"Da. Fuck shit gvht ayi riffi toock rie."
**laughter**
I noticed this at the Y today. Forgive me for my dilapidated Russian. I haven't pimped it in a while. And speaking of the Y, can you say "shower shoes"? I always were them regardless but after looking under one of the shower benches today I was CONVINCED that it was the only way to fly.
Flying. When I was on the airplane this weekend, some little bastard was kicking the shit outta my seat from the back. I figured I'd used the good ol' go to, Big Black Scary Man with Dreds but instead I targeted it at the parent. I caught his ass with my best BA Barracus stare and he veered ever so slightly. I saw him lean over and say something to the offspring and the kicking stopped. For a minute. I started thinking about all of the different ways I could squash that kicking. Turning around and saying "hey short-ta, hey short-ta! (shorty) YOu better cut that kicking shit out! Its a long ass fall from here to Buffalo!" Or the Dr. Spock way "You don't have to do that, Little Child. Its not very respectful. I wouldn't do that to you because I would want to be nice to you and respectful to you and shit. You would want to do that too, wouldn't you, Little Child?" By the time I figured out the best approach, the landing gear was down and the plane was banking port. I was relieved that I didn't because when we disembarked, I saw that the culprit was about 30 lbs and 28 inches tall. Still in a car seat. Whew!
Friendships are a funny thing. Its amazing that I have so many good ones. What plucks my chicken is when you finally consider someone a friend they do something stupid to fuck the thing up. The good thing is it doesn't hurt my feelings, its more irritating than anything else. **rolling eyes**
One of the radio stations in the DC area is calling June 6 (Monday) Sun Dress Day. All of the women in the DC area are asked to wear their sun dresses that day; even to work. Should be great one. **smile** Zulu, I've seen you in your sundress....very very nice.
One last thing, I will be publishing my 100 Things About Me, but I think I'm going to twist it a little. I haven't figured out how yet, but Imma do it just the same.
I'm out.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
I'm Stuck On Random Again
Thanks for y'all input for the trip. I've already booked it and all, but I ain't sayin' where I'm going because I know I will be inundated with the "huh?" factor. I really, really wanted that quiet factor. Kinda stupid though....more expensive than the typical places.
I emailed my "Are you really gay?" cousin yesterday. She told me in her email that gay people were crazy based on something retarded one of her friends. I agreed, but proceeded to break it down why. I wonder is she pissed?
Last night was great. I spent the evening with my mom for a change. I treated her to sushi. It was even more fun since she is a sushi rookie. That wasabi was tearing her ass up! TOO damn funny!
Then we get to conversing about birthdays (her's was a couple weeks ago)
MyCrazyAssMama: I think my most memorable birthday was the 21st.
Me: Oh? Why you say that?
MyCrazyAssMama: Boy....I remember that shit. We went to this bar in East Baltimore. Called SomeKindaHole. Anyway, I asked for a Singapore Swing and my friends were like 'Naw, naw. We got the drink for you. We gonna get you a ...something. I forget.
Anyway, I'm drinking my drink, smoking my cigarette, feeling like I'm real grown, you know? Then this brother asked me to dance. I said sure. As soon as I got up, My ass was on the floor. They laughed there asses off for the rest of the night.
Me: **laughing** I would be too. Shiit....my 21st birthday was memorable too. I ran into my boy Steve from high school in the Giant Super Market parking lot. He was a year older than me and I told him I needed some ideas for my 21st. He said he had a great one and to meet him there Saturday night. Well, I meet his ass there and he drives me to outside of Georgetown to this spot called George's. A strip club. When we were walking in, the bouncer looked at my id and said 'damn, you barely made, huh?"
MyCrazyAssMama: **laughing**
Which leads me to a another topic. Strip clubs. Some of you women HATE the fact that your man goes to strip clubs occassionally. Here is how this activity benefits you:
1.) That's at least 2 hours of him not slouching around the house getting in your way.
2.) You KNOW he's gonna want some when he gets home. You are GARAUNTEED to get laid.
3.) You don't have to slide up and down a pole or make your ass cheeks clap; the strip club provides that public service.
4.) What's a few ones' among the community? Share the love!
Why last night at the lounge this kat tripped....going up a RAMP! What type shit is that?? I guess it got progressively worse because he tripped more as he went up until he fell against me. L.O.S.E.R.
I am trying to get onto the fast track to loose weight. I went and got a jump rope as supplemental excercise. Why come I start jumping rope and humming:
Una dulci-eta
I said a east
a west....
**shit. I fucked up the rope. Start over**
Una dulci-eta
I said a east...
**shit. Start over.**
Una dulci-eta
I said a east
a west
I met my girlfriend at....
**shit. start over**
Man. After 5 minutes of that shit, Me, the jump rope and dulci-eta rolled the hell out. I dont know what was more excercise, jumping rope or trying to jump rope.
BTW....as for pics, there will be no pics until I get the Abs of Atonement. No real abs, but just good enough to show off. maybe a 2 pack. I've never had a 6 pack. Ever in life.
I met my girlfriend at the
I emailed my "Are you really gay?" cousin yesterday. She told me in her email that gay people were crazy based on something retarded one of her friends. I agreed, but proceeded to break it down why. I wonder is she pissed?
Last night was great. I spent the evening with my mom for a change. I treated her to sushi. It was even more fun since she is a sushi rookie. That wasabi was tearing her ass up! TOO damn funny!
Then we get to conversing about birthdays (her's was a couple weeks ago)
MyCrazyAssMama: I think my most memorable birthday was the 21st.
Me: Oh? Why you say that?
MyCrazyAssMama: Boy....I remember that shit. We went to this bar in East Baltimore. Called SomeKindaHole. Anyway, I asked for a Singapore Swing and my friends were like 'Naw, naw. We got the drink for you. We gonna get you a ...something. I forget.
Anyway, I'm drinking my drink, smoking my cigarette, feeling like I'm real grown, you know? Then this brother asked me to dance. I said sure. As soon as I got up, My ass was on the floor. They laughed there asses off for the rest of the night.
Me: **laughing** I would be too. Shiit....my 21st birthday was memorable too. I ran into my boy Steve from high school in the Giant Super Market parking lot. He was a year older than me and I told him I needed some ideas for my 21st. He said he had a great one and to meet him there Saturday night. Well, I meet his ass there and he drives me to outside of Georgetown to this spot called George's. A strip club. When we were walking in, the bouncer looked at my id and said 'damn, you barely made, huh?"
MyCrazyAssMama: **laughing**
Which leads me to a another topic. Strip clubs. Some of you women HATE the fact that your man goes to strip clubs occassionally. Here is how this activity benefits you:
1.) That's at least 2 hours of him not slouching around the house getting in your way.
2.) You KNOW he's gonna want some when he gets home. You are GARAUNTEED to get laid.
3.) You don't have to slide up and down a pole or make your ass cheeks clap; the strip club provides that public service.
4.) What's a few ones' among the community? Share the love!
Why last night at the lounge this kat tripped....going up a RAMP! What type shit is that?? I guess it got progressively worse because he tripped more as he went up until he fell against me. L.O.S.E.R.
I am trying to get onto the fast track to loose weight. I went and got a jump rope as supplemental excercise. Why come I start jumping rope and humming:
Una dulci-eta
I said a east
a west....
**shit. I fucked up the rope. Start over**
Una dulci-eta
I said a east...
**shit. Start over.**
Una dulci-eta
I said a east
a west
I met my girlfriend at....
**shit. start over**
Man. After 5 minutes of that shit, Me, the jump rope and dulci-eta rolled the hell out. I dont know what was more excercise, jumping rope or trying to jump rope.
BTW....as for pics, there will be no pics until I get the Abs of Atonement. No real abs, but just good enough to show off. maybe a 2 pack. I've never had a 6 pack. Ever in life.
I met my girlfriend at the
Monday, May 23, 2005
The Dark Side
...Or rather, the Bright and Tight with Pastels Side. I did a self-analysis on myself and I for real have some gay tendencies. Here's the list.
1.) When I workout, I like for my clothes (and accessories) to match.
2.) I pull my dreds out of my face with my fingers, not my hands.
3.) I have a tendency to say "eww" when something grosses me out
4.) I know suit, hat, and mens clothing etiquitte.
5.) I have more female friends than male friends.
6.) I know how pick out a pair of shoes. Male or female. Proof: my wife hasn't bought her own shoes in about 8 years.
Oh man. Seems as if I have blogger's block. I can't get my head str8 to blog. I would write an entry about the happy hour I went to on Friday, but I was too blasted to remember what I was laughing at.
I started my workout regime Thursday. I've been running everyday in the morning. Tomorrow I shall be lifting them good weights so I can be the beefcake special. I'm planning on going out of town this weekend to do absolutely nothing. No wife, no kid, no cell phone. Just me and a trife ass book and maybe some cable tv. I really look forward to it, but I don't know where to go. I'm look for some place that's a nice short plane because I ain't doing the sitting on the highway thang. Fuck that. Ain't like I'm going any place too too impressive. **sigh** I don't know.
I think I hear the Lounge calling me. I need to call WhatAboutMe and see when she can hang out with me.
Damn, this post sucks. I'm going to try this again when I got something interesting for y'all.
I'm out.
1.) When I workout, I like for my clothes (and accessories) to match.
2.) I pull my dreds out of my face with my fingers, not my hands.
3.) I have a tendency to say "eww" when something grosses me out
4.) I know suit, hat, and mens clothing etiquitte.
5.) I have more female friends than male friends.
6.) I know how pick out a pair of shoes. Male or female. Proof: my wife hasn't bought her own shoes in about 8 years.
Oh man. Seems as if I have blogger's block. I can't get my head str8 to blog. I would write an entry about the happy hour I went to on Friday, but I was too blasted to remember what I was laughing at.
I started my workout regime Thursday. I've been running everyday in the morning. Tomorrow I shall be lifting them good weights so I can be the beefcake special. I'm planning on going out of town this weekend to do absolutely nothing. No wife, no kid, no cell phone. Just me and a trife ass book and maybe some cable tv. I really look forward to it, but I don't know where to go. I'm look for some place that's a nice short plane because I ain't doing the sitting on the highway thang. Fuck that. Ain't like I'm going any place too too impressive. **sigh** I don't know.
I think I hear the Lounge calling me. I need to call WhatAboutMe and see when she can hang out with me.
Damn, this post sucks. I'm going to try this again when I got something interesting for y'all.
I'm out.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
From The Dome
This rap is to the beat of a Kanye West song called "Luv You Better" Feat. G-Unit. I had that beat in my head and as soon as my fingers hit the keys I started typing this.
Sidewalk slingin'
brothas get to grinnin'
make no mistake, this girl is st8 winnin'
she tried bless me with smile that goes on
switchin' that ass with the Louis Vuitton
She had it decked out
pinks and reds
with her lips just shining like Eva Mendes
"Excuse me ma, can I roll wit you?
make it hot in the spot and have a drink or 2
let you vibe wit me you can drive wit me
get the old school cd, you can jive wit me"
(pause)
(singing)"Splendid. I wif (with) it
but you gotta tell me how much you spending
you smooth and
you precious
but I gotta say your gear ain't the freshest
you got some pretty eyes
you got a nice smile
I even feel them dreds how they looking wild.
But I'm dime piece
and if you was a bit taller
I would holla but I see you aint no real baller."
(pause)
Damn...choppin' my shit
she got me pondering, thinking that I wasnt legit.
but I ain't sweat dat
I just went back
to her crib and steadily tapped dat
and when she started with dat benjamin crap
I just wiped my shit
hit the door
and yelled "holla back!"
A StickyPimp Product. All Rights Reserved. If I hear these lyrics on the radio or at the club I'm SUING YO ASS!
Sidewalk slingin'
brothas get to grinnin'
make no mistake, this girl is st8 winnin'
she tried bless me with smile that goes on
switchin' that ass with the Louis Vuitton
She had it decked out
pinks and reds
with her lips just shining like Eva Mendes
"Excuse me ma, can I roll wit you?
make it hot in the spot and have a drink or 2
let you vibe wit me you can drive wit me
get the old school cd, you can jive wit me"
(pause)
(singing)"Splendid. I wif (with) it
but you gotta tell me how much you spending
you smooth and
you precious
but I gotta say your gear ain't the freshest
you got some pretty eyes
you got a nice smile
I even feel them dreds how they looking wild.
But I'm dime piece
and if you was a bit taller
I would holla but I see you aint no real baller."
(pause)
Damn...choppin' my shit
she got me pondering, thinking that I wasnt legit.
but I ain't sweat dat
I just went back
to her crib and steadily tapped dat
and when she started with dat benjamin crap
I just wiped my shit
hit the door
and yelled "holla back!"
A StickyPimp Product. All Rights Reserved. If I hear these lyrics on the radio or at the club I'm SUING YO ASS!
Sunday, May 15, 2005
I Smashed It! Ouch.
Hey y'all. Its been a while, but here I'm is after a week of hitting the books and self-induced drama. Friendships; hell, any kind of relationship can be so volatile.
One thing I’ve been wanting to blog but was unable to because of my memory was one of my classmates. We had a lot of odd personalities in the Culture and Ideas classroom, but this particular girl really highlighted some of the things wrong with how we live our lives.
Through the entire class her class participation was weak at best. Now, the papers she wrote may have been good because she seemed like a good note-taker. But as soon as she realized that the discussions in the class were just that, she stopped taking notes. There is nothing wrong with that; do what you gotta do and get the fuck out. However, the underlying theme was that she is one of these women determined that the root of her happiness was her future wedding date and the honeymoon cruise. That was all I ever heard her discuss with her other classmate, her dress, the hall where she was having the reception, that was it. And then later towards the end of the semester, she incessantly text messaged. Who, I don’t know, but I can guess it was her fiancé.
Its great that she's happy and I hope she has a great marriage. But as a married person I know it is foolish to limit your world to your spouse's world. Married couples (especially young ones like her) are 2 individuals who happen to want to walk together in life. You have to share a lot, but you stil are you. I wanted to tell her that, but she was too far gone, man.
Glueman called metoday and asked me for my assistance today to move and pick up some lawn chairs. They were very light chairs and of course, were heavier as they get stacked. Well, me being the manly man I am I decided to load 6 at a time into the truck. When I attempted this on the second stack of chairs, I placed them on the tailgate of the truck improperly and BOY do I mean improperly. It seems that when I put the stack down, the heavy end of chairs smash down on the tip of my dizzat. Ouch. Fellas, just imagine a 10 lb weight just sitting on the end of your dizzat for about 5 seconds. The chairs were heavier than that, but concentrated in a specialized area it couldnt have been any more than 10 lbs. I had to walk with my ass poked out for at least 1o minutes.
And speaking of dizzats....this is to my 30 and over atheletes. Are we more proned to have to wear jock straps now? I mean, what happened to the support down below? I was running wind sprints this morning. As soon as I put my stride in the next gear, my balls were all over the place. Like one of those hanging bags that boxers use for hand speed. Shit...seems like thats how fast my balls were hitting my leg and abdomen. Ouch again.
I need to take care of my tools because my school may be starting a club level baseball team. I'm trying out so wish me luck. I'm also joining a reading club for the summer until I find out that the stuff is too hard to read for no credit. Ok...I'm gonna be gone for another couple days. One more final and a practicum. But after Thursday.....
I is free!!! I is FREEE!!!!
One thing I’ve been wanting to blog but was unable to because of my memory was one of my classmates. We had a lot of odd personalities in the Culture and Ideas classroom, but this particular girl really highlighted some of the things wrong with how we live our lives.
Through the entire class her class participation was weak at best. Now, the papers she wrote may have been good because she seemed like a good note-taker. But as soon as she realized that the discussions in the class were just that, she stopped taking notes. There is nothing wrong with that; do what you gotta do and get the fuck out. However, the underlying theme was that she is one of these women determined that the root of her happiness was her future wedding date and the honeymoon cruise. That was all I ever heard her discuss with her other classmate, her dress, the hall where she was having the reception, that was it. And then later towards the end of the semester, she incessantly text messaged. Who, I don’t know, but I can guess it was her fiancé.
Its great that she's happy and I hope she has a great marriage. But as a married person I know it is foolish to limit your world to your spouse's world. Married couples (especially young ones like her) are 2 individuals who happen to want to walk together in life. You have to share a lot, but you stil are you. I wanted to tell her that, but she was too far gone, man.
Glueman called metoday and asked me for my assistance today to move and pick up some lawn chairs. They were very light chairs and of course, were heavier as they get stacked. Well, me being the manly man I am I decided to load 6 at a time into the truck. When I attempted this on the second stack of chairs, I placed them on the tailgate of the truck improperly and BOY do I mean improperly. It seems that when I put the stack down, the heavy end of chairs smash down on the tip of my dizzat. Ouch. Fellas, just imagine a 10 lb weight just sitting on the end of your dizzat for about 5 seconds. The chairs were heavier than that, but concentrated in a specialized area it couldnt have been any more than 10 lbs. I had to walk with my ass poked out for at least 1o minutes.
And speaking of dizzats....this is to my 30 and over atheletes. Are we more proned to have to wear jock straps now? I mean, what happened to the support down below? I was running wind sprints this morning. As soon as I put my stride in the next gear, my balls were all over the place. Like one of those hanging bags that boxers use for hand speed. Shit...seems like thats how fast my balls were hitting my leg and abdomen. Ouch again.
I need to take care of my tools because my school may be starting a club level baseball team. I'm trying out so wish me luck. I'm also joining a reading club for the summer until I find out that the stuff is too hard to read for no credit. Ok...I'm gonna be gone for another couple days. One more final and a practicum. But after Thursday.....
I is free!!! I is FREEE!!!!
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