Color Me Hippie!

I think I miss marijuana. I haven’t smoked in what seems like a very, very long time. All around the house, I seem to have blunts, and papers in various drawers or boxes. And I know for a fact that there are bags of weed hiding somewhere, I’m just not too much of a pot head anymore to turn my apartment upside down to look for them. I went back and read whatever I wrote about my days as a supreme weed head. Yesterday I had a conversation with a shawty about the days when weed was good to me. I was talking about the days of body bag, Cambodian, chocolate thai. Sighs, the good old days. I remember when I was attending school for audio engineering in NYC, if I had the loot, and I didn’t have any one with me, my ass would hightail uptown to go cop.

There was this one spot called choco chips. All they sold was chocolate. Nickel bags of goods. I would always by at least 15 bags, and keep at least 4 for myself to smoke. It was a spot that you had to walk down the steps to get into. The concrete top was low as hell, and everytime I walked in or out, I would hit the top of my damn head. I would be so dizzy, that I was standing at the counter dazed, and couldn’t remember what the hell I was doing there in the first place. There was 4 year old chips and candy behind the plexiglass, and I would look and say to myself; “they would hit the spot, if I had the munchies” and then OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, I’m here for some herb.

Yo, short term memory is a real damn thing. That coupled with the fact my head was split open two times within two years in the same spot. That explains the migraines I still get from time to time, I suppose. The earlier part of my life, I can say I was a bloody mess growing up. I spent a lot of time in the emergency rooms of new jersey. Hell, when I was a kid, there was some hot chicken grease on the stove, I don’t know, or remember too fond of how it happened, but I have 2nd degree burns on my chest from that episode. Its healed and barely visible now though.

But, back to the weed. The other day I was on my way to an interview, or job, it was one of them, I forget = short term. So, I go into my bag to get one of my books out to read while on the train ride. I pull out the Mis-Education of The Negro, and voila! A dime bag of weed pops out, and into my lap. The train was crowded as all get out. A nice older black lady was sitting to my left, and I kind of felt her eyes were cutting through me. It wasn’t one of those moments where time stopped, but it seemed to slow down a tad.

I quickly threw the bag into my bag, and went on business as usual. I couldn’t help but notice the white folks looking at me. I guess I was wondering, if they were wondering if I was going to roll the shit up, right there in front of them. I am not that crass. Hell, I would have gone in between the cars or something. After all, I am a gentleman and shit.

But, the whole day, I couldn’t stop thinking about that weed in my bag. There was a part of me that wanted to just spark the shit up after I left where it was I had to go. It has been so long peoples. I am probably more carefree or less intense when I smoke, to the point that I am aloof to the things that I care about when sober. I don’t know when the last time I smoked and wrote something. If I weren’t trying to do some things now, I swear I would be sparking up right now like no one’s business. I know that the longer I keep this bag sitting around, the more dry it will get. It will be like trying to smoke a dry lawn. However, when all of the bullshit is over, I am ripping the bag open, getting some ez wider, and I am going to toke like there’s no tomorrow. Shit, I deserve it.

I have plans for weed too. Forget all the nonsense this time around. I am looking for nothing but quality. I mean I am a high quality motherfucker, and I deserve the best in all walks of life. And that my friends includes weed.


FUCK IT…..IM ROLLING THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!

Classic ~ Tell These Fools

Old School At Noon ~ Or Something Close to Noon

Guy was them dudes back in the day. Hot shit!

Damn ~ Make it stop ~ But No, This is Hilarious!!

I swear I just cannot grt eough of this guy sometimes. Did they hang up on the poor man with hurt ass elbows? Sometimes, I would fall asleep while the television was on Black Embarrasment Television, and this guy would come on in the wee hours of the morning. Every damn time, I had a dream that teradactyles were chasing my ass through the hood. Come to find out, it was this fool screaming.

Sometimes You Cant Tell By Looking (whore story?)

Some time ago, I visited a friend at her office after the work day, to discuss future projects. There was a bit of wine flowing, sauvion blanc I think. The shit is nasty, I’d rather drink merlot. But anyways, after discussing some things, listening to some music online, and after the cleaning lady finished, we decided that it would be best to fuck each other. Everytime I go to see her at her office, we always come to decide that.

This day was a different day because three hours prior I was with another chick, in her apartment, and she basically tried to take advantage of me. First chick had nice hair, and moved my hand from her side, and up to her hair to grab and pull it, she likes that shit. Fair enough, while she is bent over her sofa, all she was saying was; “oh yeah, pull that shit.” Being the gentleman I am, I oblige. And not for nothing, fucking with either of them further adds proof that some women arent shit, because they are both married. But I guess they know good dick when they see it.

So, after that is done with, I go my ass to Newark penn station, read the daily news, while in the bar drinking a glass of merlot. I’m an aristocrat and shit ya know? So, I am reading this, and hope struck me. Now, I am fucked up for this, but I really set this day out for another chick from Queens, who I have told repeatedly we were going out. But since I am a nigga I had to weigh the facts. I could either take this chick from queens out to eat, have a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek goodnight, or go to another chick’s office, drink wine, and bang the fuck out.

Ya’ll do the math on that.

Long story short. So the nyc chick is petite, and a real freak. Her Brooklyn accent is ridiculous, and a turn on, plus she from Jamaica, so she throws in some patwa when getting smashed. While I’m hitting it, I kept thinking that I must be a fucked up dude, because I literally just fucked someone she is cool with. Niggas will think of anything to keep from nutting before its time. But when I thought of the previous chick, the whole grabbing of the hair came back to me. And her little ass is on top of the same table where the fax machine is, and I am just a banging. She pressed up against the fax, and I am sure she dialed Pakistan or some shit, the phone got knocked off the hook, good shit.

But, I fucked up. I grabbed her hair, and pulled it. SHUTDOWN!!!!

Shut down my niggas. Soon as I heard that “uhn un” it was a wrap. She didn’t have a wrap, it was a wrap. Then instantly I thought of when we were on the carpet, and while her feet were dangling in the air, she had one hand on my back, and one on the top of her head. I don’t pay attention to shit like that. We were close to the doorway, I thought she was trying to protect herself from a concussion. I mean, I fuck to win. But the whole “uhn uh” and I was like “this chick be talking to my sister or some shit?” and so it begins;

“Nigga, you trying to pull my wig clear the fuck off!”

“Nah, I didn’t even know it was a wig.”

“Niggas need to be up on shit like that, my hubby knows!”

“Then why isn’t he here fucking you right now?”

“Uhn uh”




The story is 100% true. But the main question is, should niggas know the difference?

Cuzzo

Dear Cousin,

I have thought about a lot this week. I don’t know why exactly this week in particular, I just did. For months since you passed I really didn’t come to terms with it. Sure, I put up a front that I was okay, but really I wasn’t. You passed 30 days after our grandma passed. It is almost like she was your heartbeat. And I guess that is rightly so. May times I scroll through my phone, and I see your name, and I just want to call you, and say what’s up. I ant to ask what you are doing, and if we could hang out or something. I am mad out myself for not spending as much time with you as I should have. Like a fool, I chose to hang out with the so called “cool” relatives. You were the cool one. You were the smart one. You didn’t care about the things we did. Your head was on right. And you brought a lot of good to many people. I remember when we was living in the same house, and all the bullshit we would do. On bunk beds, grown assed men. Like, remember I was on the top bunk, any I would wake up every damn morning it seemed, and hit my head? Your ass would crack up, and I would be pissed and dizzy. I remember we talked the pastor of the church into supplying us with a computer to build a website. LOL, remember when I came home drunk, and I thought the site had disappeared, only to find out I spelled Baptist. Babtist? Man, we go back some time. Remember when I found a bag of dimes in the basement, and I got yelled at because I didn’t want to split the money with yall? I would do almost anything to hear your laugh right now man. We had so many deaths in our family in 2007, but none affected me like yours did. I miss you like crazy. Its like I cant imagine going to a cook out, or a family gathering without seeing you. Dude, you and I bought the same car, from the same dealer, and the same salesman. We would be in church making each other crack up. It was fun teasing you when you sang in the choir. I know your ass was just moving your lips, you would tell me otherwise though. I remember when I would go to your school, and chill with you and your students back in the day. Man, I don’t even know how I made it out alive. I taught them dudes how to drink. When you graduated, I was so fucking proud. I was so anxious to go to the ceremony. I was mad that most o the family wasn’t there. I think Danish was standing up on a chair trying to get a picture. Auntie was so proud, I was so proud. I never got you though. You were so different from us. If I had to compare you to anyone it would be Dre. Ya’ll dudes are cool as a fan. Nothing seems to faze you. I wish I was more like you. I didn’t realize it until after you left us. I miss you man. These days I don’t know what to do. I want to call for advice. I just want to kick it with you. I want to go bowling or something. Anything! Today, I saw this car that looked like yours, and damned if I didn’t stand in the middle of the street just staring. This family is lost now cousin. It has been months, but we are still shocked. I have so much I want to say to you. It all boils down too, that I love you and we miss you.

Good Websites to Use

Bwhahahahahahahhahaha. Man, people never cease to amaze me. Motherfuckers are just that predictable. My inside jokes on this blog are funny, to me anyways. However, I have a surefire way that people can view sites "anonymously"

www.foxyproxy.com - good shit, but it still doesnt hide anything, but feel free to use it. it wont hide much, but if you are at work, you can go to myspace with it, I think.

http://www.the-cloak.com/anonymous-surfing-home.html - this doesnt hide much either when it comes to this site. lmao. tis site needs some smileys

www.hidemyipaddress.com - this is amazing, but i think it was shut down or something. i have no need to use either of them, since i work from home.

I have another whore story in the works. Its taking forever, with all these other projects jumoing off now. My costumes are close to being finished, and production, hopefully starts soon. Hell, maybe I will dramatize the whore story.

But, use those sites, and surf anonymously, I mean sheesh. why the fuck not?

dedicated to capitalized!

Late Night Mood Music

I forgot all about this song. I am looking for the pictures from when we performed this in a talent show in HS. LMAOOOOOOO

Damn, I remember it like yesterday now. We were supposed to wear all black. Why in the hell did this one dude have a black shirt with a tiger on the back? My boy like to strangle the dude.

"How you going to pull this shit RIGHT BEFORE WE GO ON?"

"Aye yo, is the tiger's eyes rhinestones?"

The performance I dont recall, but I just remember how mad my boy Jay was at the dude. I think his name was something weird, like Shey or some shit. J was the one that got everyone to do it, and he did not want Shey to be a part of it, but there were limits to the number of times people could perform. I mean this kid couldnt even get the moves right. He was fucking up, and J looked like he was going to hit his as over the head with the mic. All those high school moments must have ben repressed, but now I am cracking the hell up.

For the Three years I was at that school, I was in damn near every Talent show, play, what have you. Now that I think of it, they werent contests. I have to get my hands on the videotapes of them, if they exist still. Although, I dont know how I would feel to see just what the hell was going on with my hair. I am sure I was rocking a gumby at one point.

Good Times
Enjoy
dedicted to m.a.t.

Bonus dedication;

Jesus Loves You, So Why Doesnt He Come Visit?

So, it is Sunday morning. Of course all of the televangelists are on spewing more untruths. More of the fear based faith, that makes the people give up the money. Ten percent at that! I am sitting here in pure amazement at the bullshit. There is a preacher on right now is trying so hard to cry, or sound like he is crying. It is disgusting. Mostly because I am pretty sure he knows the bible is bullshit.

I mean damn, the people are in the pews, and they are crying. Oh shit, he just spoke in tongues. Holy shit! He is smiling now, his eyes are so dry. I am offended! I almost felt bad for a moment. He is a sharp dresser. I am a sinner, but I believe you are the savior, Jesus! LMAO

I don’t even know why I bother to watch this trash. I don’t get how God can create everything. I mean from the littlest ant, to the biggest elephant. But, yet and still, will not take any credit for hell, the devil, or evil in general. I mean if God created EVERYTHING, and evil being a part of it. Doesn’t God have to be accountable for evil too? Maybe I just think outside of the box. Perhaps there were two Gods. You know, like Glenda the good witch, and the other one, the ugly one? Speaking of Glenda. How come if she had power and shit, she just didn’t float Dorothy’s ass to the wizard? That’s pretty messed up Glenda.

Oh, this is Jimmy Swaggart ministries. Oh my, and he is selling giant print Spanish bibles, wait. The bible is free, but you have to drop some cash for the dvd. Now that’s what I call good marketing.

I am changing the channel. Lets turn to black embarrassment television. Nevermind, they doing nothing but singing. I aint trying to start crying for some reason that I don’t know of. Must be something about an organ that touches a soul that doesn’t exist. Why are most gospel singers overweight? The good ones anyway.

Turns again. Awww junk! Its Creflo Dollar. The name Creflo never passes the spell check.

The holy ghost does not like when people back slide. I am guessing that is the reason Michael Jackson has had so many problems. His life hasn’t been the same since he did the moonwalk. Makes sense too. I mean, his hair caught on fire, he fell down a flight of steps, hurt his back, bubbles died, Webster stop hanging with him, and Corey Feldman took his place, now that’s the holy spirit getting in that ass!

Turns back to Jimmy.

Its official, if I am not saved, I am going to hell. Wait, but if I do good works, I can. But I cannot dis the holy spirit. Wait, I can get saved, and that’s the only way I can get into heaven, but if dis the holy spirit, my being saved, and my good works mean nothing. Wait, but if I say with my mouth and believe with my heart that the J man died for my sins, that could possibly trump all of the above. I am still confused. Its like trying to figure out the democratic super delegates.
People are jacked up from religion, and the belief in God and his ONLY begotten son. Which in itself is pretty messed up. Why does Jesus get that? Why was Mary a whore? Why in the world did she let God get her snatch, when she was married? Was there a biblical Maury Povitch? Could you imagine that shit? Joseph and God sitting on a couple of rocks, and out come the results, delivered by an ass. Joseph sitting up there wishing and hoping he is the dad, and God is up there hoping it aint his. Because he knows that, if word gets out, no other virgins are going to want to give up the pussy. And then the results come in; JOSEPH, YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER! Mary runs and cries, because she knows God is a deadbeat dad. Matter of fact, he impressed her with his stories of how he was smiting motherfuckers left and right. Mary liked that sort of power. Her favorite was the big flood. Joseph is distraught, and he wants to fight God, but he knows how he gets down.


That needs to be a sitcom. God, Mary, and Me: Holy Fuckery.

The whole God’s will is fascinating to me. Everything is his will. A tsunami kills thousands. It was God’s will. Men and Women, raping and killing children, its God’s will. Disease and death killing millions, its God’s will. George Bush was God’s will too, because he told us, and the idiots of the country believed him. LOL. Look where that shit got us. God also told him that going to Iraq was the right thing to do. That is just sick. See how shit is? God has never spoke to me, has never intervened, hell, I never even got a sign. I know of people that have lost their homes, their cars, their kids, all because they were waiting for God to intervene. I swear if he does exist, he is laughing his ass off. I know I would.

The church shows with preaching have gone off. Now I am sad.

The Random Dedication

Late night truth serum.
Dedication and transitioning, or transferring your love from things that have no meaning to you, to what does have meaning.
We dedicate ourselves to nouns, people, places, and things. Dreams go unfilled due to the energy put into what had no business at all getting energy that was given to you by the sun. None of us dedicate enough time to love, or to loved ones. But when it is their time to go, you wish that you loved one.
So many times I let love go, love was one sided, and my side be possessive. Dedicate myself to jealousy, bickering, benefits without mentioning, I never put in work.
Fucking jerk I am, but that’s what drew you. I tried to write a letter, but I just scribbled and drew you.
We can’t be like gang star, there’s only one guru.
A man’s ego needs some assurance. Like I’m the ego of George and you speak like Florence.
Get fired and try to clean up well.
I dedicate while we down in hell.
I don’t make promises, I rather make contracts with my truth as the bonus. Ball in the court, while I define what’s an onus.
Dedicate my hate for states in between. Distance and love in a poor man’s dream.
Dedicate honesty, need transparency. When I ask things, you know I need clarity.
Dedicate my dreams to make things worthy.
Dedicate my dick, though the shit is girthy.
Problems are repairable
Like cars with too many miles
I know it’s hard with so many Kyles
Dedicate myself to be plenty foul
When the time is right and I’m nice with explanations
Dedicate myself to myself and no self hating
Dedicate myself to masturbation at least 5 times in two hours
Maybe once in the shower
Once on the bed
And once stuck in traffic
And twice in my head
My heart done bled
And my soul been gone
But it aint too tragic
Dedicate myself to take no shit for granted
Dedicate myself to myspace and black planet
Dedicate myself to LOL’s
Dedicate my face to shave it well
This is just random
The calm before storming
The sleep without snoring
The fucks without whoring
The chucks without balling
The rise without falling
The ice without slipping
The nice without tripping
The applause without dripping
The wine without sipping
The nine without gripping
The crime without prison
The dime with no chip in
The lips with no kissing
The runs without shittin
The wife without bitching
Its life what I’m kicking
Dedicate myself to drink more water
Dedicate myself to raising my daughter
Dedicate myself to being in your history books
Dedicate myself to making you look.