2004 Revelations

It is the end of the year and it is time for my annual reflections. Some things just haven’t changed so I will give the reflections that haven’t change and continue to piss me off.

1.) Senior citizens should take the damn bus. Get off the road, stop driving with that left turn signal on slow as hell, and stop banging into my shit with that Marines tanker you driving.
2.) Stupid people need to stay they asses home. Y'all are in the damn way. Stop having offspring for you reproducing is worsening the problem exponentially. Stop trying to use the self-scan lanes at the grocery store; do your shopping online instead. (oh wait, stupid people are too stupid to do that. Just call me when you going to the market.)
3.) There is a difference between rap and hip hop. This is important because I never buy my music any where the hip hop section has Nelly, Lil' John or any of the Hot Boyz click. I don't like rap, but its the prosperous offspring of hip hop. As a True Head, you can't knock that progress. But here is the difference between the two; rap primarly consists of someone vocalizing lyrically (i.e. Lil' John) with a dancable beat to it. Hip hop consists of someone rhyming in rhythmic prose. Hip hop also has some type of message to it, be it negative or positive. If you STIIL aren’t sure, 9 times out of 10 if you can dance to it, it’s rap.


Now, my personal reflections. (the humorous element of this blog is now gone so if you choose to be entertained in that way, come back in a day or 2)

1.) Being married is a blessing, not a curse. When you find that beautiful person who fulfills your life is so many different ways, it takes some serious work. Marriage is best suited for those who prefer a life entrenched in the lives and development of their children. I am still a man who enjoys my life and own self-development. I love my son so much, and I am so proud of him. Sometimes I feel I am doing him a disservice by not being 100% focused on him. But at the same time, I know that he knows that I am easiest to get along with when I am being me. Back to the point, when you feel your blessing has become a curse, its time for some serious change. Love your spouse unconditionally. If you cannot do that, then it wasn’t meant to be.

2.) I CAN be God’s gift to women. Let me explain this one. What I mean is that if I come into a woman’s life for a memorable period of time, I want to have the effect on her that is positive and not in the least detrimental to her or the ones that love her. If I’m doing anything directly or indirectly that is going to have a detrimental effect on her life, I need not be involved. So therefore my gift is the me that gives from the soul without worrying about what I’ll be receiving.

3.) I may be a Sampsonite. No, I don’t mean I’m a lounge chair. What that means is that I may be a victim regarding my hair. In the Bible, it states that Sampson’s strength was because of his hair. How could that be? It goes to an ancient belief in the fact that one carries the good and bad energy of his/her past in his/her hair. This ties in with Sampson, as he was a servant of God (good energy) until he got wrapped up with Delia who coerced him into cutting his hair (loss of good energy). This past year has been a bad year and if any of that has a shred of sense to it, my dredlocks have to go. There are certain events that are coming up that will dictate whether or not I will cut my hair, an element of myself that has characterized me for so long. It will be interesting to see if I will have to do a personality adjustment as well a lifestyle adjustment.

4.) I will be more opportunistic when it comes to making things happen. I have been lazy over the years when it comes to turning opportunities into prosperity. This coming year will be different. All of those opportunities will be converted into prosperities and that goes for all business transactions, all brainstorming instances, and relationships of any kind.

In conclusion, although this was totally different year from most others, I will conclude it and begin the next year in the usual fashion:
I’m slicker this year……..

Aunt Dizzy

People with special needs (mentally impaired, slow, retarded) are just like the rest of us, truly. Its just that they analyze and break things down at a different pace. Some are assholes, while others are loving and compassionate. My best "special needs" story was once me and my boy Cliche went to the Dunkin' Doughnuts and a special needs girl walked up to me and said hi. I said "Good morning. That's a very pretty jacket you have on." "Thank you." she replied and gave me a big hug.

Now, my Aunt Dizzy, she falls somewhere in the middle. She actually uses her impairment to get sympathy and preferential treatment, even during times that its unjustified. She's been notorious for saying "I can't do that...I try before, but I just can't get it." Yeah right. Sometimes, its justifiable, but other times she just be playin' all her life.

And of course, there are the times where she just doesn't know and doesn't understand. There was this one Thanksgiving where some of us were in the basement and she was playing it up with a stomach ache. "My stomach hurts!" as she dragged her ass around. She repeated this until Darkness asked her "What's wrong, Diz?"
Aunt Dizzy: I'm sick. My stomach hurts.
Darkness: Oh wow. Do you know why?
Aunt Dizzy: I don't know. The doctor says I'm rotten on the inside.
Darkness (with incredulous look): Excuse me? What did you say?
Aunt Dizzy: I said the doctor says I'm rotten on the inside.
Darkness (serious look now, everyone else rolling on the floor): Huh? How can that be? If you were rotten on the inside, you would be real REAL sick, Diz!
Aunt Dizzy: That's what I said! I have to get it fixed and get myself together.

I don't remember anymore of the convo after that because I had either passed out from lack of oxygen from laughing, or ran off to the bathroom to clean the pee out of my pants from laughing so hard.

The moral of the story? Love and embrace those who appreciate being loved and embraced.

Observations & Phobias

Phobia
Everyone has a phobia. My cousin, spiders. My mom, reptiles. My e-wife, anything green served on her plate. Me? Well, I have an odd one. Rats.
Mice aren't problem. After I size them up and see that their not rats, I'm fine. I think that phobia started when I was about 12. We were having guest over for my grandfather's funeral. (an aside...why do relatives come over YOUR house, sleep in YOUR accommodations, and feel it is their...no, YOUR priviledge to pay for all the long distance phone calls they make knowing damn well they don't no-damn-body at home?) My grandparent's house is in the hood in B-more with alleys, abandoned houses and all of the things rats love to thrive in. My cousins and dem decide since it was such a lovely day and it was too inconvenient to leave the damn back door closed, then hey, let's leave it wide open. And just our luck, a rat scampered into the house. I saw him first...I sat at the alcove me watching him watching me. I stomp with a seemingly intimidating "HA!" Now.....how can I explain this.....ok, if the the rat had fingers on his paws he would have gave me one and said "Shiiit! What dat mean? Fuuuuuuck you!" And trotted up the stairs.
There's more to that store but maybe I'll get to it another time (upon request only).
So, back to the present I go into the kitchen to get some water. I was in a decent mood, humming and shit. When I approach the kitchen, I hear this scratching and shredding of paper. I'm like "wtf?" Suddenly, I was caught up with the phobia. The first thing that I thought was "damn, is that a rat or a mouse?" scratch scratch "damn, sounds kinda loud...might be a rat" scratch scratch scratch "Hmmm....no squeaking. I guess it must be a mouse then" scratch scratch "Hmph! Either way, I ain't fucking with him tonight!" And I went to bed.
The next morning, I forgot all about the incident. Until.....!
scratch scratch scratch
"Damn! he still in there! I guess I better man-up and get him out." So I go outside and get an old rug, slowly pull the trash can from underneath the sink. Then I take the old rug and cover it to calm the critter down. I then take the covered trash can and dumped it in the big trash can outside. Whew! Another phobia conquered! Temporarily.

Observations
I had 2 observations for you guys but I forgot one of them. But the other one, is hard to forget. I'm sure most of you have seen the posters and billboards for Samuel L Jackson's new movie "Coach Carter". Looks like an interesting movie except for the fact that Samuel L Jackson is play a stern yet compassionate role. Hard to imagine him saying to a ball player "Hey, its ALRIGHT. Just focus and shoot the ball. We believe in you." But WE ALL know Samuel L! Ant gonna be none of that. It'll be more like " SHOOT THE BALL MUTHA FUCKA!! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS??!?!? YOU TAKE THE DAMN BALL. AIM IT AT THE BASKET, AND THROW THE BALL IN THE HOOP!! WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU, MUTHA FUCKA?!?!? ARE YOU NEW OR SOMETHING???!? JESUS CHRIST!!"
SHOULD BE.....eh hmmm....should be interesting to see.

Ooh! Here's another observation. There is a live action "Fat Albert" movie coming out tomorrow. The previews say it sucks. The commercials say it sucks. But I say, go see it. Why? To pay homage to my childhood. Darkness disagrees. He feels that if a movie sucks, it just sucks and why bother seeing it. E-Wife feels that one should go see it, but only matinee. (such a Libra...always in the middle) This is the dilemma of the black man today. Pay homage to see a seemingly bad movie, or say "no! my financial advancement is more important than a Bill Cosby brain-fart." Please, comment and help the black man make this most crucial choice.

Ok...I got one more because I can talk about movies all day everyday. There is a movie coming out called "White Noise". Its about this man who hears voice from the dead thru some for of electronic media. Now, here is my question: why is it that everybody claims that the dead have so many great and revealing things to say? Consider this.....dumb and annoying peaople die too. Don't you think that they are STILL that way even if they could talk to the living? Don't you think that instead of "Angela, you must beware of the short Mexican man with the Disney World hat. He is of bad will..." yada yada yada you might hear something like "Hey! I can snap my toes like you can snap your fingers!" or "Every globe I've seen has a line around it called the equator. If I go to South America, can I see it on the ground?"

See? I be thinking man....I be thinking!

Another Great Shopping Experience at Wal-Mart

Samuel Walton intro
"I have a dream today....that white men, black men....Jews and gentiles, will all walk down the aisles of my store...shoulder to shoulder like brothers....

I have a dream that snotty nosed Arabic children will ride the bikes and sample all the merchandise through the store without adult supervision...

I have a DREAM, that big fat, black women will poke the shit out of unsuspecting short patrons from a full endcap away with their torpedoed like breasts....

And I have a dream today, blue-haired white ladies will hastily push their carts out the doors of my multi-acred stores and say "Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I'm free at last!"

I don't Sam was thinking that when he drafted the mission statement for Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, that's what its become. I hate the place. Pissy service, loads of unprofessionalism, and no matter what the season, people flock to it like flies on a turd.

I went because my estranged wife wanted a new cell phone and we transfer the number from my account to a new one for her. We get in there, colored folks everywhere. Standing in line with baskets full of stuff. We squeeze our way towards the rear of the store where the cell phone counter is. We wait....and wait.....
"Oh. He aint back there now. But I'll have him paged."
So when he arrives, I think "wtf. What is Lil' John's cousin Broke Tim doing here?" Thats cruel right? Yeah right....this kat was a nice guy, but had dreds that were banged up and these weird silver caps on his teeth that had designs on them. Then his boy comes thru. Now, I KNOW Sam had a dress code: "Don't look like a jackass." I think that was the only line in the dress code policy...yea, that's it. Don't look like a jackass.



EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Violation on Aisle Mutha Fuckin' 3! THIS....uh....damn. I wanna say the word but I KNOW some people would get offended. ok..let me start over......

THIS mu fucka has a hat on backwards, a big ass jersey that his fat uncle Chester could wear under his Wal-Mart smock jeans hangin' way off his ass (even though he had a belt on), a pair of Tims, and of course, gold teeth.
unemployed for over a year....but kats working here with jeans off the ass and metallic teeth. Like Frank said "That's Life!"

Finally, Broke Tim begins the transaction. All is going well until SteamRoller comes thru with his boy. The name will make sense shortly. SteamRoller wants a phone and Broke Tim aint having it. He knows something is awry. SteamRoller is put on ig. I wondered why until....

Sorry y'all but now it is time for your slang lesson. Dont worry, it ALL ties in. Now. Our vocabulary word of the day is hot.

hot: 1.) a term used to describe a stolen item 2.) term used to describe something new and good, well-recieved 3.) term used to describe something steamy, unappealling and poignant.

......until I realized that Broke Tim was on to something. He detected something in body language from SteamRoller, I didnt. What I detected was his hot ass breath (see definition). The more he talked, the more I realized this kat had had some issues earlier in the day. It was so bad he would say something and my stomach would answer before my mouth would. (shit! I was scared to OPEN my mouth! eeew!)

SteamRoller: Yeah, I heard T-Mobile is the jone't!

MyStomach: waaaaoooowaa

SteamRoller: Is dis da phone y'all gettin'? Dat look aight!

MyStomach: woooowawoooooooooooo!

Man....fuck this. Thats why I need to go over here and look this here gospel . Must be a sign that I need the Lord.

We thought all was well after we left, but apparently our son walked out of Wal-Mart with a Po (Teletubbies) plushy. We went off. He cried and cried and cried. He has to confront the manager and write a letter of apology. That damn Wal-Mart. Even got my son doing trifling shit.

7 Jessicas

Jessica #1: Beautiful in every way. Mind, body, soul and spirit. I tried to put some 'isms on her, but she wasn't having it. As a comforting gesture, she told me "If you weren't married, you could get it." We became friends, but months later she started dating this man and fell in love with him. Now, I try to call her (she was diagnosed with a serious illness) but she never returns my calls. Really worried about her, but I think she just has me in ig.

Jessica #2: Platonic friends initially, and then it got somewhat scandalous. Before I could make a trip to meet her, she found out she was embarazada from her ex boyfriend. My flirts were then taken to the context of being a..and I quote "pig". We talk once every blue moon now.

Jessica #3: Chatted for a minute, but found out she was only 21. When I told her my age, her interest waned as well.

Jessica #4: We used to make each other think and laugh. See above except she was 17.

Jessica #5: Became my major reason for wanting to go to PR. Disappeared off of the face of the earth. No call, no show.

Jessica #6: Met her in Miami by default. She was a friend of a friend who happened to be hanging with us that night. She and I hit the dance floor. Man, as a Marylander I don't come across many Cuban women. So to see a fair-skinned woman with a figure like a sista and can move like one.....wow. Jessica #6 threw it on me GOOD for like a good hour. Things were looking OUTSTANDING until towards the end of the night when she says "Hey, my buddies are coming thru. Y'all hanging?" I said "Oh fo' sure!" Then I get a tap on the shoulder from Darkness "They all dudes. We need to roll. And roll we did.

Jessica #7: Just met this one. Results pending.

This just in!!! Results from Jessica #7 emails are in! Here is an abridged version of how the Jessica Effect effected Brother Kojak:

(paraphrased) #7: I'm sure we can stay in contact as long as we don't spend too much time talking to each other! LOL! Honestly, if it wasn't for your hilarious journal writing ability, I'd have stopped talking to you once I found out you were a cheater without a cause. LOL! (Just being honest!)
It's all about surrounding myself with good and positive character types. I don't associate myself with cheaters, liars, criminals, ignorant people, and/or atheists. I don't see anything wrong with that...do you?

I guess we liars, cheaters, and criminals have to stick together. I found this great convention coming up this summer that I'm SURE I need to attend.

Coming June 21, 2005

The Liar's, Cheaters, Criminals Convention (LCC)

The Washington, D.C. Convention Center (The LCC capital of the world!)

Come join us for seminars, free food and drink, and free MONEY!!!

Special Keynote Speakers: Former New Jersey Governor James McGreevey, Former DC Mayor Marion Barry, football coah George O'Leary, and special guest speaker President Bill Clinton!

Seminars include:

Don't Let the Bitch Set You Up- M. Barry

How to Keep It On The Down-Low- J. McGreevey

Yeah....I Gots Me a Master's- G. O'Leary

Speech Writing Symantics- B. Clinton

(disclaimer: some and maybe all of the above listed may or may not be false as this is a Liars, Cheaters and Criminals Convention. Participate at your own risk and discretion)

The Hootnanny

...So today I had a meeting with a potential client. It went well too; I think he will use my services as soon as he has all of his stuff in order. We met at the perfect spot for small-business to small-business commerce; Borders Books. Love that spot! Intelligent people (mostly of color) browsing for books, munching on snacks and at every few tables you see 2 or more people reviewing information for a potential LEGAL business transaction. Almost like a New Jack Harlem. Ain't life grande?

Now, the Hootnanny. And you may ask yourself "Self, what is a Hootnanny." Well, I'm glad you didnt ask me because I DAMN sure don't know! To find out, I put on my Boy Scout shirt, my son puts on his Cub Scout shirt, and we go to the Pack meeting. What we were supposed to do was go out caroling and make reefs out of fruit. Thats all well and good, but this was to be done outside.....in 28 degree weather. I said "You done lost your monkey-ass mind! I aint gettin' no five for this!" (well, I said that to myself) I lasted about 15 minutes before I had hallucinations from the ancestors (west African accent):
"Bruda Williams...what are U doing? You know we were neva, EVA worked in de cold of cold. The plains of A-free-ca are free of snow. Dis is NOT de place for YOU!"

"Uh.....I gotta pick my wife up from work. I'll see you guys."

Macaroni and Cheese Rebuttal

Yes! White women have spoken in defense of their grandmothers, aunts, and dem. This is a 2 part series attacking my Macaroni and Cheese thesis. How dare they! One thing that seems to be missing from the rebuttal comments and emails, is the welfare block of cheese. Sure, your grandma MAY have baked her macaroni and cheese, but did she use the "brick" cheese? I think not!! Here is Part I of the back and forth between myself and my white friend, Raquel.


Raquel: so i can be a punk and still know you love me!
kojak2000: yeah yeah
Raquel: even if i eat white people's mac-n-cheese
kojak2000: OH! you read that huh?
kojak2000: see? you don’t know what’s good!
kojak2000: lol
Raquel: no.. that was very racist of you
Raquel: you never had my mac-n-cheese!
kojak2000: ok....break it down for me then
Raquel: and i call it that cuz im lazy.. not cuz its a side dish
Raquel: lol
kojak2000: see? its not racist, theres a big difference there
Raquel: i dont see
Raquel: and i have two different mac casserole recipes
kojak2000: you didn’t read the thing....you got offended and didn’t pay attention
Raquel: no i read it
Raquel: all of it
kojak2000: so what was racist??
Raquel: the part about the poor black folk and the block of cheese that you couldn’t cut
kojak2000: its TRUE
Raquel: omg!!
Raquel: yeah.. but that doesn’t mean that because I’m white i cant cook mac cheese
kojak2000: what are u trying to say?
Raquel: or because i call it mac cheese, that i don’t love it just as much
kojak2000: omg.....be for real
Raquel: i am! you be for real!
Raquel: lol
kojak2000: I pointed out a difference. White people cook mac & cheese differently. And then I explained why
kojak2000: that by no means is racist
Raquel: there are different recipes
Raquel: i will give ya that
Raquel: but you cant say that because im white i can't cook the aaaawwwwww shit! mac cheese
kojak2000: I never said you couldn’t
Raquel: yeah ya do
Raquel: when white people make mac cheese people smile politely
kojak2000: right
Raquel: like its oh god.. not that stuff again
Raquel: lol
kojak2000: lol
kojak2000: oh man.....based on the typical recipe...yes
kojak2000: wouldn’t you??
Raquel: nope!
kojak2000: velvetta and noodles???
Raquel: oh god no
kojak2000: compared to the welfare block??? You must be smoking that stuff
Raquel: shredded longhorn & colby cheese
kojak2000: hehehhehe...ok
kojak2000: I'll have to try that one day **as I smile politely**
kojak2000: LOL...j/k
Raquel: fuck you
Raquel: lol
Raquel: ;-(

kojak2000: I'm telling you.....
kojak2000: folks used to get that back in the day…and had no idea what to do with it
Raquel: could it be its just what you are raised on?
kojak2000: not urban legend. fact
kojak2000: **sigh**
kojak2000: THATS WHAT I WAS SAYING!!!!
Raquel: oh that’s what you meant
Raquel: men.. never mean what they say, and never say what they mean.
kojak2000: black folks were raised on the casserole-ish mac and cheese....no, I said that
kojak2000: I insinuated one was better than the other, but that’s personal preference
Raquel: i was raised on the casserole mac cheese too
kojak2000: did you ever have the casserole-type?
Raquel: i have had more types of mac cheese than you can imagine
kojak2000: that’s not what I asked you
Raquel: i really like the kind that has that crunchy stuff on top
Raquel: yeah you bake it in the oven
kojak2000: now see.....that is DEFINITELY white folks style. Only things crunchy we eat are fried
kojak2000: lol
kojak2000: and...that’s just cultural difference
kojak2000: plain and simple.
Raquel: frying isnt heart smart
kojak2000: you right! thats why we die earlier too. Real dumb

Math Finals

Damn yo...I had to take a break! Shit! My brains are so fried, I can't tell a pig's rooter from the tooter. But I bet I could tell you if its isomorphic, its standard deviation, median, number of vertices, or to analyze it using Euler or Gauss matrix technique.

Quick snaps....

My stomach growling was noticably loud. Embarrassing. Not like I'm even hungry.

Came into the bathroom and saw the guy who blew the mo fo up. He gave me this look like "Damn. you caught me." at least he washed his hands.

Thurs. afternoon and the celly is blowning up. WTF? Any other Thurs. nada. And of course, no Jessicas calling me but thats a given.

I need to quit both my full time and part time jobs. I think I'm over-compensating the child-like energy because teenage girls are giving me the look over. Fellas, don't that just hurt your feelings? I mean, yes, this is a young woman giving you the look over and what can YOU do? Tell her don't do that? Get her phone number? NO! Is it a compliment or an insult? I don't know...I'm torn and shit.

You can tell when the tuition money is about up at U of B when its cold in every building. Damn heat on strike. Where is that chic with the little girl coat when I need her? (see WTF's entry)

Black people word of the day: sausases. Translation: sausages. Used in a sentence: "I like sausases in the mo'ning with my grits. I don't never put sausases on pizza. That there is breakfast food!"

Wish me luck. I'm out.

Ladies....A Serious Matter

YES!! I can be serious too!

I don't like bringing down the vibe of my blog unless something that has happened that has touched my heart and soul.

Today I went to the Sprint store to get my phone repaired. While standing in line I heard a familiar voice say behind me "What are you doing here bothering us early in the morning?" It was a woman I've grown to like (platonically) named Jesse. I approached her and gave her a big hug. When I was close to her something was different in her appearance. But we men need to leave that alone because lots of women like to flip their appearances for various reasons. Anyway, she said "I'm glad you came by because this is my last week before I take medical leave."
"Oh? What's wrong? You aight?"
"I have breast cancer and my chemotherapy is getting harder to deal with. I just stay tired all of the time."

Whoa. Ton of bricks

Ergo the difference in appearance...wig, sunken eyes, and dark knuckles. I didnt know whether to be sympathetic or proud. Why proud? Because her was another sister, the 2nd one I've know in the past year or 2 who is fighting breast cancer with true strength, vigor, and dignity. She could have started waiting for me to give the long-drawn out "I'm sorry" and "thats so terrible". Instead, she matter-of-factly explained what was about to happen, took my phone and walked to the backroom to repair it. Yes, she may have been thru the denial stage and all that other shit about the stages of grief, but all I know is that Jesse has her head up and will not go down with a can of ass whopping fight.

I didnt want to go deep into that because I have studying to do but that really touched my heart, for real. So ladies, please, please, PLEASE begin to adopt the Breast Cancer Prevention Buddy System. What you are supposed to do every 2 months is remind a friend that it is time to do your self-check. She is supposed to return the favor. And it is also important to get your annual mammogram. Your insurance sucks, you say? I think it would suck more to be blind-sighted by and illness that can kill you. I also think it would be worth the $700 for an out-of-pocket mammogram or to head to the community clinic. Do that today please. I've seen the stages of breast cancer consuming once beautiful women into beings who have death lurking near them until they succumb. Some of you I know pretty well. That's not something ANYONE should experience from any perspective. Thanks ladies; and I'm sure your family will thank you as well.


Next entry: The Macaroni and Cheese Thesis Rubuttal! White woman defends herself and her culture!

Blog Vacation

Ok you idlers. This week is your time to take a break from blogging and do some damn work. I mean, damn. That IS what you get paid for, right? This next coming week is going to be finals week for me and I can already smell an ass kicking. Yeah, that's right, MINE. I'll try to keep things in my head until its time to blog again (yeah right) because I'm going to a Christmas party and concert with WhatAboutMe on Friday. Hopefully I'll be able to document all of the evening's events if they are interesting. There are archieves of stuff I've added for your rainy day reading pleasure. But for now, adieu... (or however you spell that shit)

old posts

I have some old posts that I havent read in a long time. I strongly suggest these 2, especially for the fellas.

More about the D*#k (8/6?/2003)
Nature of the Beast (6/12?/2003)

I'll have a brand new posting up here before the end of the day. In the meantime.....enjoy.

WTF's Throughout the Day....

One thing about this blog is that when there is very little going on as far as stories, thecies or reflection, I will do wtf's as in What The SoundsLikeDuckButBeginsWithTheSameLetterAsFart. WTF's are observations of dumbness. Like, ordering a meal from McDonald's and getting a diet coke. WTF type shit is that? Or when you are laying the game on a honey and your boy comes in, interupts the convo, and starts in on a new topic.....WTF is you doing?? (Note the break in grammatical context. An action like that is so appauling that you loose all sentence of sentence and tense structure.)

today's WTF's:

I'm standing in line at the Wendy's in the suburban hood. Bad enough that the sista behind the counter is moving slower than a sloth on smak, but the old dude behind me has like a mild case of Teret's or something. Now, that shit aint funny (per say), but if you got the Teret's type thing where you can't shut the hell up, shouldn't you take ALL your meds? This kat was steady saying "mmmm hmmm...yea." And no matter who was talking, no matter where they were in the room, he had an interject.
(Way across the room) She: Damn, its so hot in here!
He: Mmm hmm....yeah. It hot alright. It's hot..."
And see the shit is amusing because it was Teret-like so you sensitive folks get your draws out of your crack (can't do that if you wearing thongs though, huh?). As a matter of fact, please remind me to drop some of my AuntDizzy stories on y'all just to show that I can give it and dish it. My AuntDizzy is mentally challenged.
But I digress. Here's the WTF part....WHY did I start doing that same shit? From the time I time I was about to leave until the time I pulled back into the school parking lot, I was doing it too. Although mine was along the lines of something like "uh huh...yeah. yeah"
So I say to myself "Self, WTF is you doing? Get your shit together before somebody hears you!"


I leave work and get into my car when I notice the school crossing guard get into her car. Oh yeah, crossing gaurd (@ $6.60 an hour) is rocking a relatively late-model Jag. WTF type shit is that???? Now, there could be a number of reasons for that, but at 1st site, the shit just don't match. It's obvious that she has another job somewhere else, but really! I just don't get it. WAY too complicated to try and figure out.

why in the f(@$ is this chic sitting next to me wearing that hot ass winter coat when its about 73 degrees in here and 60 degrees outside? What, you afraid to take it off because you think somebody gonna steal it? Chile please! One of them damn big ass fake-out ski coats, baby blue, with the stitching all around the torso and arms. Looking like a big ass little girl.
Lab Tech: "Excuse BigAssLittleGirl, this lab is for U of B students only. But Chester Heights Elementary's media center with the smiley-faced sunshines all over the place is still open. You better hurry! They still serving peanut butter and celery for afternoon snack!"

Shit....making ME hot just looking at you. WTF is you doing??

Weekend Field Trip

But earlier today, The group I work with took about 20 kids to a video recording studio at Bowie State University. There they showed them some of the basics of the studio and got the opportunity to not only produce a short show with the King and Queen of Bowie State, but also do their very own weather and traffic report. Although my son was the youngest, I must admit he was the best one. Talent just RUNS in the fam, n'yamean?

The one thing that I CANNOT go without mentioning was the ride over there. The bus driver, God bless her, wore these thick-ass magnifying glass type glasses and drove like she was about 30 years her senior. I wanted to say "Damn, I could out run this bus." But I thought better of it. But I digress....when we were finally pulling into the university, I overheard one of the convos going on in the back of the bus..."

"You know, all roaches have antlers...."

Antlers? Antlers? Now, instead of doing the adult thing and correcting him from the word "antlers" to "antennae" I sat there and pondered how could he come up with such a thing. Meanwhile, the convo persisted.
"Yeah, and they got wings too."
"They ain't got no wings, man!"
"Yes they do! They just don't fly."

....I suppose if you looked at a roach at a glimpse, you would think they have antlers...I mean a real quick look....

"Uh huh. I seen one fly before. It flew from Tasha's braids out the window."
**laughter**

...but what if roaches really DID have antlers instead of antennae? Would they still have the same function as the antennae based on the roaches need? Of course not! Well, shit. I don't know...

The bus stops and we begin to disembark. One mother says to a group of the kids "Damn! Can't never take y'all no where. Y'all stay ghetto!"
And one of the more laid-back boys of the program shrugs his shoulders and answers "That's where we from."


And later that evening.....
We were all worn out by our outing with the kids. It was time to chill. At my parents' house, that means beverages and all kinds of potato chips. We had guests over the house as well and one of them had a cold. Do you know after she wiped her nose with a Kleenex no soon after she stuck her hand in the bag of chips? I didn't see the incident, but I know that my parents are SERIOUS about potato chip night. Everytime I mention the incident, they both get bitter.

My Macaroni and Cheese Thesis

Mmm mmm mmm. There is nothing like a big dinner with the fam where there's the candied yams, pineapple glazed ham, potato salad., and if you're lucky, chicken gizzards.

What's wrong, doesn't sound familiar. Well, that could be because these are the some of the ingredients from a black family's dinner minus one essential dish. Macaroni and cheese.
You see, macaroni and cheese is a dish that is a staple of the black family Big Dinner diet. It's even pronounced differently than white people pronounce it.
White Man: Can you please pass me the mac and cheese?
Black Man: Can you please pass me the macaroni and cheese?
Old Black Man: Let me get some of dat mac-da-roni and cheese!

You see that? Note the subtle difference between the White Man and the Black Man. "mac and cheese". "macaroni and cheese". To the White Man, macaroni and cheese is just a side dish. A mere starch added to your baked chicken and vegetable medley. But for Blacks, its an entrée. Its an entrée de jour especially when Aunt Sissy who's lived in hood for the past 20 years in her tiny yet immaculate house with the plastic chair covers in the living room fixes it. When you see and smell that baby come out the oven, your first reaction is to look at your cousin Tay and say simultaneously "Awwwwwww, shit!"

Now, let us examine the obvious and subtle differences between White People macaroni and cheese and Black People macaroni and cheese.


White People
Texture: Soupy, has to be served with a large spoon
Color: Almost white. Hmmm...white, white people...is there a connection?
Cheese: Velvetta. Damn, is Velveta really cheese?
Weight: Heavy. High water content
Family Reaction: **grateful smiles**


Black People
Texture: Thick. Casserole-like. Might have to cut if the right cheese is used
Color: Light, golden brown
Cheese: Extra-sharp cheddar. American Welfare if you're lucky
Weight: Heavy. High cheese content
Family Reaction: "awwwwww, shit!"



But wait! There's more!
Now you may ask me "Brother Kojak, why is this so?" I would respond "Well, my little White Friend, it's like this..."

"During slavery, Blacks had to take what they were given from the master. That meant chicken gizzards, chicken feet, chitterlings, fish heads, and that vine fruit that grows prolifically in the Southern summer heat, watermelon. The slaves became creative and made these dishes cultural delicacies.
After slavery...well, WAY after slavery, Blacks began to have more means than before, but still lacked the exposure to White American culture. So, some dishes were wild variations of origin White dishes. One of these dishes was macaroni and cheese. Poor Blacks were receiving foods from the government based on income. Now, one of those foods was a block of "American" cheese that was only a foot long, but weighed about 300 lbs. You couldn't slice it for sandwiches; nobody could afford a kitchen knife that sharp. You couldn't use it for grilled cheese sandwiches, by the time the cheese would melt the bread would be blacker than my ass. So, its best use was to cut it as best as you could, and throw it in the oven for macaroni and cheese entrée. Voila. Black People Macaroni and Cheese."

And you might ask me "Brother Kojak, Kwanzaa is coming up. I want to have some of the Black holiday experience. How can I, a white person make Black People Macaroni and Cheese?"
And I would say to you "Well, my White Dance-Floor-Impaired friend, **except for you Mami** I'm going to tell you right now..."

Black People Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients:
1/2 box of Mueller's elbow noodles
2.5 cups of milk (and not that soy or rice shit either!)
1 lb. of extra-sharp cheddar cheese, chunked (sorry, Reagan squashed the welfare cheese blocks a long time ago)
4 tablespoon of butter or margarine
1 egg (optional)

Pour milk (and not that soy or rice shit either!) into a pot. I forget the specific name, the big one with the handle. Add the noodles to the milk. Bring the milk to a slight boil and stir periodically. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. If you wish to make your mac-da-roni and cheese so thick you gotta cut that bitch, then take your egg and crack it into a bowl. Wisk it heavily, or until it's almost foamy. Let sit until needed.
After about 10 minutes, turn off heat. Grab a 9 x 7 baking dish and place noodles into the dish. Now, here is the trick., the more milk that's added to the pan, the more you fade away from the recipe. Leave enough milk so that there is maybe a sixteenth of an inch worth of milk on the bottom of the pan. Pour the cheese over the noodles. If you wish to use the egg, pour the egg over the mixture and stir all together. Spread the mixture out so that it is evenly distributed in the bowl. Place the pan in the oven and let cook for about 35 minutes or until the top is a slight golden brown. Enjoy. And if you don't say "Awwww, shit!" After that first bite, you did something wrong."


Oh! And to be fair, I'll give you the recipe for White People Macaroni and Cheese.

Ingredients
1 box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.


Follow the directions on the box. Enjoy.

Credit where credit is due

I'd like to give a shout out to fellow blogger WebmasterMama who INDEED taught me how to bachata. I must have sucked when she was teaching me cause I dont remember all that! But I felt the figurative cold steel to my head as I read the comment:

At 10:55 AM, WebmasterMama said...
Didn't someone I know teach you bachata???

thanks mami.....**smile**


I guess while I'm here I can type in my entry for today. Unfortunately, I don't have anything of true interest to add today. I am jive-like tired because I crashed over my cousin's house which forced my son and I in the same bed. Man. That little boy makes these weird old man sounds that just blow my mind. Its like a "**smack, smack, GULP! mmm" sound. That's my best way to describe it literally. I retreated to the living room chair and ottoman downstairs. I'm still milking those 3 hours of sleep.

I had a blog a couple of years ago on a different site. I'm going to move it here because all of the people who joined that site are no longer there and that was the primary way of keeping in touch with them without committing to a phone call or email. So look for those entries that will be marked for your viewing and chin rubbing pleasure.

next blog entry.....White people mac and cheese versus black people mac and cheese.

Damn! I still got it!

I'm going to make this short as possible as my ass is tired. Not from work mind you, but thinking about all of the stuff I'm SUPPOSED to be doing instead of this blog. **rolling eyes**

Good day today....didnt have to sub, got to stay in my office the whole time. I completed a work assignment nice and early. I ran into a faux paus as my soon-to-be ex decided she wanted to work this evening. I had to drive the 30 to get the offspring. When I got back, he told me he was hungry and the only thing cooked was ultra-healthy stir fry and black rice. Keep in mind this is a modern 7 yr old, so that shit just wouldnt do.

So I went to the store to get him something to eat at the closest Jamaican eatery. Man they took a long time! And I have about as much patience as George Bush has social etiquette. So when it was time to get my order, I approached the counter. The waitress said "we don't have any more beef patties....with your cute self". She smiled. I smiled and blushed (if that is physically possible). We adjusted the order, and as I was about to leave she said "Wait. Hold up." I obliged. She held out in front of me my receipt; on the back of it a name and number. "Take or leave it" she smiled........

Dedicated to Tom and Dem II

I’m just being silly. So we adults made tiny plates for ourselves while the kids played. We talked amongst ourselves and were later joined by CalientePrima, Silly’s HOT cousin who happened to sit next to me. Now, I’m the kind of man where if you sit next to me, and give the laugh with the pat on the shoulder, or sit so close that our legs have continuous incidental contact, I’m going to think you’re interested. But I was told by WhatAboutMe that she only digs the Dominican brothas. I don’t have enough sazon in the blood for her tastes. So that was a question mark most of the night in my brain. So much so that I had to sit somewhere else to force the issue of her not being interested. Given the state of my marriage and my level of poverty, a date is nowhere in the near future. I’ll get back to the marriage issue on a slow blog day.

Later into the night after swearing off alcohol, I went ahead and had some wine. ( I wasn’t going to drink because I usually drink beer and beer is mucus forming. Currently I’m fighting some type of respiratory infection.) I was warned by Silly that HISYPOTI’s dad likes to get his guests lit. I made the mistake of asking him for the wine. Here’s the convo:

Papi: What are you looking for?
Me: The wine….vino.
Papi: Ahhhh!! El vino. Esta ahi.
Me: Ok, cool. Gracias. (He pours) Whoa! That’s enough.
Papi: Oh, but there is only a little in the bottle. Why don’t you drink?
Me: Nah. Save that for later. I’ll…uh..be back.
Papi: Ok. I save this for you.
Me: Gracias Papi.
Papi: Happy…(thinking about it) Thanksgiving Day!
Me: Si, Feliz El Dia de Gracias!
Papi: Si!

So I drink my drink, and dance with the Birthday Girl. (Yes, it was a Birthday/Thanksgiving affair) She was shocked that I knew how to dance bachata. “Where are you from?”
“Oh, I’m American. (pause) I’m just very well rounded.” Then I flashed her the killer smile. Force of habit. So after the dance I sit down next to CaleintePrima. Let’s just say I’m a glutton for punishment. Then I get a tap on the shoulder:

Papi: Hey! I been looking for you! Here is your wine.
Me: Oh…uh…thanks.
Luckily, the wine wasn’t too strong. Just enough to make get up and dance more. HISYPOTI was telling CalientePrima something about my size and height in Spanish. Then she asked me what size shoe I wear. When I told her she said “OH!” and pulled me closer. Funny.

I don’t think I’ve ever stayed out that late for Thanksgiving before. I didn’t get back to my parents’ house until about 1:30 am. It was difficult at first, but with the help and love from my friends Silly and WhatAboutMe I was able to cope with the feelings of sadness and emptiness that went along with my first Thanksgiving without my family.

Friday's Thanksgiving

My long-time friend WorldofThought invited me over his house for an alternative Thanksgiving feast. Apparently, he and his uncle's signals got crossed as far as who was going to cook on Thanksgiving. Uncle won out, so Thanksgiving II was on Friday. I took my son over there and we both had a great time. I reminisced while he played with WorldofThought's kids. I had not seen WorldofThought's parents in about 5 years so it was great to see them again. They had a huge influence on raising me whether they know it or not. My blood family members have referred to them as my Other Parents. We both except that title mutually. It was an odd feeling though, because even though it was the norm that my son and I were there together without my wife, it still felt weird not having her implicit presence there. It was very saddening and I was told today by a good friend that I need to forgive myself for all of the deceitful and selfish things I've done to my wife no matter how bad they were.

So what was I thankful for? I was thankful for seeing my Other Parents, thankful that my brother in life WorldofThought isn't and hasn't gone thru the dumb shit I'm going thru, I was thankful that there were happy, healthy people there who made me feel the same.

Dedicated to Tom Turkey and Dem

Tom got housed!!!! One day he’s in the yard, chilling with the other Turks, eatin’ good, fresh air, nice crib, clean water. Life is good, right?


Until that truck comes and scoops his ass and all the asses of his peeps up into a truck and Tom ended up on the dining room table featherless, headless, and the little pop-up thing they put in his chest so that the Thanksgiving novices know that his ass is done. I tell you what though; Tom was tender and juicy!


This was the first Thanksgiving without my wife and son. They had plans so I had to get some. Luckily, my homegirl (we will refer to her from here on out as WhatAboutMe) and our mutual friend (we will refer to her from here on out as Silly) invited me to tag along. I met everyone at Silly’s house where dinner was in the oven. Of course, I fussed. I’m a very fussing man. I would admit it if I was bitchy, but there is a difference. Fussy is entertaining and no one pays you any real attention. Bitchy is when fussy gets annoying.

Ok, so to distract myself I volunteered to go to the grocery store and Silly came along. We walk in of course, to the ridiculously long lines caused by the other procrastinators. So Silly’s idea was for me to stand in line while she gets the stuff. Kool. I stand there, and there are 2 20-Somethings at the checkout. 5 minutes later, Silly is back, and I’m still standing in the same spot.
“What’s going on?” Silly asks.
“I don’t know. These chics up here, man…”

At one point, the 2 girls stared at each other, the cashier; the cashier stared back, then at the man behind them…Finally, they walked out, but without groceries! Silly and I looked at each other. “Dayum!” she gasped. “I think I’ll hit the ATM so that doesn’t happen to us.”

When poor Tom was done we tore his ass up. I had all dark meat (of course) colored-people’s mac and cheese (folks, there is a difference. But that’s a whole blog in of itself), biscuits, and green beans. And to keep that warm fuzzy life-is beautiful vibe, we watched “Kill Bill”.

After “Kill Bill” we packed into the car and drove to HaventISeenYourPicOnTheInternet’s (HISYPOTI) parents’ house for round two. We get there and are seated at the table. Maybe it’s coincidental, but why was the colored-folks mac and cheese place RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY black ass???? Why not to anyone else around the table? Hmmmmm???

Cub Scout Spirit

Today is a day for chilling. I don't any better way to relax than waking up on Sunday during football season. I get up, do chores, watch pre-game shows, and then the main events. I think the only thing better than that would be to have all of that, wake up with a beautiful woman lying next to you, and NOT having to do those chores because you are vacationing. **sigh**

But thats not the case today. Today the Cub Scouts are going to rake leaves for elder families. We had a surprisingly large turn-out minus the dads who were glued to the tv sets for the game. Damn I was jealous.

I was jealous, but not for long. Raking those leaves made me think about a lot of things. We had fun and it was tough keeping the kids focused, but they helped too. The hard work and fun kept me from thinking too too much. Things that I thought about; the fact that my son wasn't there with me hurt because it was my fault. The fact that some of the things I've done to someone else have ripped them from the inside out. And here I am, using one of my favorite days of the week to do a good deed for someone I don't even know. The epitome of an oxymoron.

Saturday

Life is an ass-cramp when things arent going the way you want them too. Its one thing when "shit happens", its another when you doing the wrong thing and the consequences are the exactly how you thought they would be.

Its Sat., I'm chilling at the house, just waiting for the day to...evolve. I was supposed to be making a website with a friend, but I think her boyfriend has her tied up, literally. I'm supposed to be studying with my friend The Spanish (sorry, but its easier to nickname folks in improvised ebonics) , but her boyfriend had her tied up last night, literally.

So, now I'm just chilling going to watch a football game or 2 and work on the website myself.

I have a rant brewing in my head, but I'm waiting for it to fully simmer saute. I shall return.....


.......Damn. I lost the rant. One thing thats on my mind is the fear of being single again. Under different circumstances, it might be cool. But now 30+ , 1 kid, substantially underpaid, and semi-nomadic, I definitetly dont rise to the top as a great catch. No, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. You make your bed you have to sleep in it. I just have the worst feeling that my future dates are going to consist of convos like this:

"Oh! You back again, huh?"
"Yeah, you hooked me up last week. Just got paid too. You got change for a $50?"

Nite at the Love Cafe

Yes, I was among the bloggers who made it out to the Love Cafe last night. I missed a good portion of the festivities. When I got there there was a blogger reading one of his works and I just wanted to go to him and say "Brother, the womenz have got your balls in a jar. Stop being the girlfriend with the penis!" But the Mrs. was with me with a growling stomach so we parlayed down U St. We proceeded to the Cada Vez, a restaurant/lounge/bar/conference room that usually has decent food and entertainment. Well, the entertainment was implied. Let me explain....we walked into the spot, and me being familiar with the place I knew something was going on as the front counter covered the visibility of the restaurant. When we approached closer an amazon of a woman smiled at us "May I help you?"
"Wait a minute," I thought. A took a closer look. Hmmmmm......
"Whats going on here?" I asked.
"It's a...errr....'banquet' she smiled.
"oh ok. Thanks anyway."
We stepped back on the sidewalk and I looked at my wife. "Notice anything funny about the hostess?"
She suppressed a grin because she knew I was going to say something crazy. "What?"
And in my best Austin Powers voice, "That was a maaan baby!"
She laughed. "For real?"
"Yeah that was a man! His voice was lower than mine and shit!"
Then, out of the God-forsaken Blue, this brotha who I've never met in my life walking the opposite direction says "No it wasn't!"
"Yes it was!" I cried.
"Huh? For real? In there??" he asked pointing in the Cada Vez.
I said "Hell yeah! Go see for yourself and YOU tell ME that aint a dude."
He shrugged his shoulders and walked off.
My wife and I strolled down the block and FINALLY picked a restaurant. It was an odd experience for me because my buddy and I would rely heavily on getting a table at the Cafe Nema back in the day. Now, U St. has Starbucks, Subway, and other commercialized favorites. **sigh**

On the way back we approached the Cada Vez. Fortunately for us, the festivities were just ending and all of the "gals" were exiting the spot. I'd say that at least half of them were 5'10 or so. AND wearing heels gracefully. I was impressed. "I don't give a damn what she said! I'm a big girl now and I can handle anything that flow!" I heard one of them say.
Big girl indeed!

We continued to walk and as we passed the doors, one of the spot's workers said (as if we asked him) "Not every night...some nights, but not every night."

For the next 2 blocks, I couldn't get that Crystal Waters song out of my head:

she's just like you and me
but she's homeless
she's homeless
as she sits there, begging for money
dada de, dada da
dada de, dada da
dada de, dada da
dada de, dada da

Tues

Tues is my long day. I go to work, hang at my moms for a minute, then go work at the community project. What we are doing is producing an anti-smoking video for kids. Actually, the kids are doing all of the production, we adults are just guiding them and helping them stay focused. After that, I went to DC to the U St area to go to a Hip Hop Alliance meeting. This org. is trying to get DC hip hop on the map. Its very exciting to feel that energy come together. However, there was no meeting tonite because there were a few no-shows. So the 12 or so of us just kinda hung out.Now, here it is 5 something in the goddam morning and I cant sleep. I guess Im stressing this paper that is due today that I thought was due next Wed. **sigh**grumble of the day: I have this shirt, I call it my guido shirt. (yes, thats a bit of a racist statement so to my reader of Italian descent, I hope you arent offended) It looks like a shirt Big Pussy (dont you just love saying that???) would wear. All white with a baby blue collar and baby blue stripes going down the chest. Pretty much the anti-thesis of what a typical dredded brotha like myself would wear. Man....that shirt is ruined now! I have no idea how, but everytime I wash it, weird brown spots appear on it. They look like grease stains, but they wont come out. My last ditch..... the Korean Lady. Which Korean Lady I dont know, but she gonna HAVE TO run a dry cleaning spot of some sort.Korean Lady...Im putting my trust in you. You can say "FI-NINETY-FI" ($5.95) all you want, but please. Just fix my shit.

Tuesdays

Tues is my long day. I go to work (the next time I can remember, I'll talk about work), hang at my moms for a minute, then go work at the community project. What we are doing is producing an anti-smoking video for kids. Actually, the kids are doing all of the production, we adults are just guiding them and helping them stay focused. After that, I went to DC to the U St area to go to a Hip Hop Alliance meeting. This org. is trying to get DC hip hop on the map. Its very exciting to feel that energy come together. However, there was no meeting tonite because there were a few no-shows. So the 12 or so of us just kinda hung out.

Now, here it is 5 something in the goddam morning and I cant sleep. I guess I'm stressing this paper that is due today that I thought was due next Wed. **sigh**

grumble of the day: I have this shirt, I call it my guido shirt. (yes, thats a bit of a racist statement so to my readers of Italian descent, I hope you arent offended) It looks like a shirt Big Pussy (dont you just love saying that???) would wear. All white with a baby blue collar and baby blue stripes going down the chest. Pretty much the antithesis of what a typical dredded brotha like myself would wear. I love it.
Man....that shirt is ruined now! I have no idea how, but everytime I wash it, weird brown spots appear on it. They look like grease stains, but they wont come out. My last ditch..... the Korean Lady. Which Korean Lady I dont know, but she gonna HAVE TO run a dry cleaning spot of some sort.

Korean Lady...I'm putting my trust in you. You can say "FI-NINETY-FI" ($5.95) all you want, but please. Just fix my shit.

My 1st posting!!

Hey hey hey wassup, Blog people. This my 1st entry on here so bear w/ me. THis is going to be difficult for me because I lead kind of an incognito life. But the PG-13 stuff I will share with you.

1st, a little about me. Student at a school in Baltimore, MD but grew up in Northern VA (I should have never left). Early 30's, Black, smarter than average, and am best described as neo-eclectic. Marital status? Please. Let's not even go there.

Ok, this was the first Sunday of NFL football. I GET SICED!! I was so siced I saw...let's see...yeah! ZERO damn games! Thats right. None. My dad treated me like Toby from "Roots" early that morning and when I got back I had a meeting with some co-contractors. ( I freelance, erego the poverty state) Then, I wanted to see this band play in Mt Vernon called Audio Fix. A little jazz fusion with a heavy dose of hip hop. No rapping, byt they had a dj. It would have been a tight combo if they had a sax player. They told me to get my chops together so that I could join them one day. Shiiiiiiiiiiiit. But we shall see. What was funny was that there were only a few 30 and 20-somethings in there, but the vast majority were baby-boomers tapping their feet. Hmmm!

I'm at school now, trying to avoid studying. **sigh** BUt I'll get on it. In a minute......