And This Christmas Willllllllllllllllll...........Not Be.

Well here it is Christmas Eve, and I decided to release. I actually never plan to write anything, but I had to tonight. I hate Christmas for so many reasons.
Growing up I never spent Xmas with my mom. It was court ordered that I spend it with my father. It was sweet man. I used to get so many gifts. I mean some good shit too. I mean the hulk Hogan men, the he man joints, race tracks you name it. One Xmas I even got a bike. The shit was called the silver fox. Looking back the bike was kind of gay. It was silver of course, but it had tassels, silvery tassels and a radio. I mean damn, I'm really hoping it didn't have a basket too.

You see, the initial excitement about these gifts was always short lived. Not because I got beatings or anything, but because this nigga was a sack of shit. I remember thinking all the time how scared I was of this guy. There was something just so menacing about him. Something I still can't understand.

Don't know if it was because he was a drunk, but he did some foul shit. I mean I saw him two weekends a month for years, and I can only remember 15 percent of the time being somewhat decent.

Sometimes I look at leave it to beaver, and crack up because the Beav hated taking baths. I always wondered if Ward was fucking the Beav up in the tub like I was getting. I swear on everything I love that this man wanted to drown me. He would bitch about me not washing my hair, which is weird. What was I, about eight and shit? Seven, ten, eleven? I don't know. But what he would do is beat my ass and demand me to go back in the bathroom, run the water again and sit in the tub while he demanded that I shampoo my hair, and then he would get the biggest cup of water, demand that I put my head all the way back while he threw the cup of water in my face. If I put my head down, I would get a slap or a smack or a punch. This went on for years. I am not lying when I say that water went all up my nose and when I was finally allowed to put my head down I was spitting out water that went through my nose. That is just one thing I remember. Of course there is more.

Fast forward to 2005. My daughter who was about two or close to three at the time would stay with me often at my apartment. I had a set bath time for her. For the first five mins I would let her play in the tub, and then I would sing a song about where to wash. LOL, if you knew me you know I make songs up on the regular. When she was an infant, of course I had to wash her hair, and the same as a toddler. But one night I go in to wash her hair because I was going to try to do it. Lord knows her momma wasn't going to. So I go in, lather her head up, and tell her to put her head back. She hated it! She was so scared that she started shaking. I tried to make it as easy as I could for her. Some water had gone up her nose or something, I don't know. But there was a moment where I got mad and frustrated. All those years I forgot about the past. She looked so damned scared. I left out the bathroom, went into the living room, sat down and just thought for a minute. I was almost in tears myself. It hurt me as if that was me sitting in the tub. I went back in there. I threw the cup of water over my head a few times and did my best to comfort her. She eventually went through with it. Bottom line, I love her too much too hurt her intentionally. Love her too much too make her fear me because I can. I love her too much. That nigga fucked up.

And big time too. My parenting skills have definitely been sketchy at times. Am not the best dad, and far from the worst. But I try my best. I think since my daughter was born, I think if how I grew up, and how much I want my daughter to grow up and exceed me in all ways possible. I think of my parents and how selfish they were, how spiteful they were. How just fucking ignorant they were and are.

Check it. My pops lived in a nice town, had a few cars all at once, lived in his in laws house having to pay nothing. He had to pay a whopping 10 to 20 bucks a week for child support. In the eighties, I guess that was good money. The only reason I know what he paid was because one Saturday he saw my jeans and asked "What is your mother doing with the 80 dollars a month I'm sending?!!” If I knew then what I know now I would have been like; "Keeping the motherfuckng lights on you dumb asshole!" But whatever.

For all the shit I was bought, my pops never ever sent anything back home with me. Nothing! Not the toys, the bike, and not even some clothes. My mom and I lost everything in a fire one year, and it was hard for her to recuperate for a long while. Single mom, okay job, just making enough to pay the bills. He sent one item actually, some buster brown shoes that had a hump in the front. The ugliest shoes ever known to man. When he got them I told him I didn't like them. When he bought them, he was laughing his ass off. I didn't get it then, but I get it now. We didn't have anything. I remember nights that my mom would cry her heart out on the bed, scared that my pops was going to get custody. In hindsight, maybe it would have been better for her; she could have finished school, and got her degree or something. I feel like I fucked her life up, and sometimes in her own way she let's me know it. LOL, I just couldn’t win growing up.

I have seen the same things in myself that he was doing then. I mean for so long I was spiteful. I would keep all the good clothes and shoes and toys and etc, just to get back at her mom. I figured the more fucked up she looked here and there, the better my chances of me gaining custody, or maybe she will decide to want to stay with me instead. But I can't do that dumb shit anymore. What is the purpose of that? Why make my daughter embarrassed because her parents are fucked up? Why?

My pops would often get me and bring me to my grandma's house on the weekends, and spend a lot of time downing me, and my mom about my appearance. My lack of this, my lack of that, blah blah blah. I mean like I was a joke to them. I never felt comfortable around them for a very long time. I remember once, I had to take a shit so bad, and I was waiting outside of the bathroom. Someone was in there for seemed like forever. I forgot how old I was, it was in the single digits, but I fucked around and stained my drawers slightly. I finally got in to take the shit but the damage was done. Being so fearful of my pops I just went to an empty corner of a crowded house and kept to myself. One of my cousins snitched on me and it was a wrap. It was some sort of party and there was a gang of people there. My pops put me in the middle of my grandma's living room and demanded that I drop my pants and drawers so everyone could see what I'd done. I remember how small I felt. It was like a movie or something. I mean these people were cracking the fuck up. Most of them anyways. I me, I stood there while was drunk and laughing at me and telling jokes at my expense. I don't even think I cried, I just stood there frozen. I think that was the point that the fear I had of my father turned to hate. And I was Young too. I just couldn't believe that my own father would do me like that.

See, I have such a long memory. My short memory is fucked up, but my ass recalls all types of old shit for some reason. All I need is a hint ya know? Sometimes I dream and have nightmares about what I wrote.

I cringe if I have to speak to this guy these days. I feel sick if I even have the word Daddy coming from my throat. It’s not that serious for all, but is for me. At this time that's all that I can share. There is just too much. I just had to release it. I can go the rest of my life without seeing him or talking or whatever unless he has some money for me. That being said, this will be continued

This is Just Fucking Silly ~ LMAO

Hip Hop is Okay, But Rap can Kiss My Ass...

I haven't listened to the radio in such a long time. I mean there are some moments when I am riding around or something, and there are a few songs that I can listen too, but after a few times, I am pretty much done with them.

Todays rap music sucks ass!!! Not all, but a majority does. I mean who wrote the rule that cooning and and blatant ignorance is worthy of record sales? The shit I hear nowadays is just straight fucking garbage. Not even worthy of me pissing on, let alone taking a shit upon.

Now I would be the first to say that I was never a big fan of southern rappers, particularly cash money dudes. When I first heard them some years ago, I fucking fell out. What the fuck was they talking about? Wobble wobble nigga? WTF is that? The dude BG made them somewhat presentable, but lawd have mercy, them other niggas was rapping like they didn't hear music. Shut the fuck up clowns.

Now they got this toad looking nigger with fakest swagger I've ever seen. Why the hell is this guy crying like a bitch on songs? Why does he look like the spawn of dog shit that was fucked by Shabba Ranks. Why can't he step foot in Philly? LawdHaMercy is motherfucking right.

I wrote about the ugly chick that eventually started to look attractive. That's how this rap shit is to me. If you hear the shit on the radio over and over and over, you eventually think the crap you hear is good. You eventually get to the point where you are bobbing your head to it, and have to immediately have to stab yourself in the balls to punish yourself for the mistreatment of your intelligence.

Like if I am surfing pages on myspace and blackplanet, or where ever and someone has one of these bumpkin niggers on the page. Immediately click on the nearest "Report Abuse" button. So if your page suddenly got deleted, send me a thank you comment.

Maybe I am bothered, because the older I get, the more conservative I become. Perhaps I grew up at a time where hip hop contained lyrics that meant something, or was a legitimate party song without making shit rain. Like remember when LL's "I need love" was out? You. Throw that shit on at a party, you would have almost guarunteed dry humping, and some slippage of the tongue.

What the hell is the new I need love? Buss it baby? WTF? How about bust that coon in the head with some bullets. See, now I am being corrupted by the shit.

The more and more I hear this new shit, the more I worry about the future of this country. I worry about just what type of crap my kids will sneak and listen to when I'm not there. Shit, I knew I would go to my cousin's house and tape all the wild shit they had. I would sit, listen to NWA with my mouth agape. And sadly, the shit these days is even worse.

I'm on a trip right now listening to the radio, and this just had to come out. I sincerely hope the new President outlaws ignorance in rap. Fuck it, I'll even support gay marriage, but put a Proposition 8 on ignorant cooning ass rotten teeth rap niggers.

Fin...

From The BlackBerry

Hey Cutesy Ugsly...

Have you ever seen anyone that is so ugly that if you look at them long enough they actually become cute? I think I am just a tad bit off center mentally.

I used to work with a chick that the guys around the office affectionatley called "Mud Duck." I guess it wasn't too affectionate, because I'm sure she didn't know that was her knickname. I spelled it Knick, because honestly, the bitch looked like Patrick Ewing. She wasn't his height or anything, but just imagine Pat was hit with a mallet, shrunk down to about 5'5".

This chick probably had the best body in the entire office, but damn, this face was an injustice to her tits and ass. You almost wanted to replace her face with her ass, because you wouldn't have any qualms with kissing it. I bullshit you not.

I remember while on one of my two hour lunches I journied over to her desk. Of course I was drunk, but not yet shit faced. I mean I still had like 5 hours left on my shift. So, I go over to Mud duck's desk ad start chatting. So of course the subjects of titties comes up. Don't ask me why, it just always comes up in conversations with me. So I'm like;

"Yo, I seen your pics on your myspace page, real nice pics, I swear I saw a nipple though."

"You saw a little bit, haha."

"Well, let me see the whole thing right now then."

"I'm on a call crazy, haha."

"They on the phone, they can't see your tits."

"True."

She plops out her tits. I don't know if it was plopped or flopped. But they came out. Instant hard on. It don't take my ass long to stand at attention. But while the blood was rushing from my upper head to the lower one, she became cute to me for some reason. As she sat talking to her client, I squinted and was like; "she isn't half bad."

Not bad at all. She kind of looked like a lion. Yeah, she had a lion face. Grrrrrrrr Niggas Grrrrrrr. At that point I realized that once a mudduck chick gets your dick a little hard, she isn't all that ugly anymore. The universe is a wonderful happening that way.

So I stumble back to my desk to get my cigs, so I could go outside to drink and smoke with my peeps. I go outside and I am immediately asked what I was doing by her desk. I didn't tell them of course, I be respecting bitches yo. Yup.

Anyway, I come to find out that the topic of conversation was her. One of the fellas had words with her over something, and being drunk at work equals yelling in the parking lot. Oh yeah, I was never the only one drunk at work, it was a group effort. So, they are berating this lady something terrible. I'm just sitting back kind of disappointed in the rhetoric because after all, not too long before that I was ready to fuck her at her desk. Niggas are talking about how ugly she is. I pretty much thought this was high schoolish and came to her defense;

"Ya'll leave her alone man, she is cool, she's a sweet person."

"Nigga please that bitch has a fucked up attitude, I can't stand that ugly bitch yo."

After seeing her tits up close I explained further;

"Yeah, I lnow her attitude is fucked sometimes but she is, she is cute in her own little ugly way."

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!!

Okay, was I wrong? I mean she was cute in an ugly way. I think there is a point where you are so ugly that it crosses the threshold and all of a sudden you are a dime. I don't know, its just my opinion. Now, if she was cockeyed, I don't knowif I could LOOK PAST THAT. I think that shit is contagious.

I will tell ya'll how her ugly cuteness was deaded for me though. One day my boy comes to be and says to me;

"Yo Rev, you feel like being grossed out? Aye, go look at mudduck's ears."

"Why?"

"Haha, just go look playa."

"Aight, fuck it, its time for my break anyway."

I had just got to work 20 minutes before this break. In the constitution it says that Black folks are 3/5 of a person, so I do about that amount at my job. Sue me.

But I go over and strike up a meaningless conversation. At the end of the convo, I give her a little hug so I could look in her ear. I was expecting an earpeice or something. Hellllllssss Nah. What I found was a shitload of crust in her ear. This wasn't like a flake of wax. Nah, this was enough to make into a record.(For you young fuckers, a record is what we played before cd's, young ass bastards) but yes.
I immediately lost the feelings in my legs. I felt faint. Now I know I can be a tad bit nasty, sloppy or what have you, but this shit was just too much.

I don't think I spoke more than 5 words to her a day after that mess. One day, she came to my desk and asked why I was "acting" funny. And the only thing I could come up with was;

"You are just too ugly for me to want you to suck my dick."

"What? Fuck you!"

Another friend lost to my brutal honesty. I could have went to her desk and apologized. But seriously, how would it even get through to her? I mean, that was a lot of crust!

Fin

New Old Friends

I find myself reaching out to old friends that I haven't seen or heard from in years. I kind of want to surround myself with people that remind me of a time when life was still an experiment, when there were no bills and the closest thing to breaking the innocence of your young life was finger banging a chick during a school play.

I was driving around my old hood that I lived in during 7th and 8th grade. I remembered one of my best friends from that era. When I got home I looked the dude up, called the number, got his parents, and his pops gave me the cell number. We kicked it for a minute and reminicsed for a little bit. We both went in the service after high school. I remember thinking damn, I should have went to the force my damn self. But he was kicked out like I was. LOL, shit happens. I was glad he is doing good and hopefully we'll go out for drinks or some shit. Hell we're grown now. The thing that bugged me out was that he is still cool with his girl from back then, and you know what? Why did they call me on the three way? LOL, that's all we ever did back in the day. A ton of folks on the three way talking about nintendo, big daddy kane, and teachers we hated. It was good to go back there for a while. Just to remember when life was carefree. Yall remember emergency breakthru's on the phone? BWHAHAHAHAHAHA. Shit, your game would be seriously thwarted if the operator came on like;

"Boooooooooooooooop, Emergency breaktrough from Toya, will you take the call?"

Now I have to use Toya as an example. She was my girl back then, and was the QUEEN of emergency breakthru'n. And my ass would be on the horn with the next chick, running out of excuses as to just who the hell this Toya person is.

"Uh, my cousin from downstairs."

"She can't come up and knock on the door?"

"Her leg is broke."

"Uh huh."

"I'll call you back."

"Uh huh, okay."

A couple days later, and as normal, Toya and I had broken up over something dumb. But it never fails for her to call to yell at me.

"Boooooooooooooooop, Emergency breaktrough from Toya, will you take the call?"

"Ugh, I hate this chick!"

"Your cousin?"

"Nah, she my ex, she on my jock."

"Uh, you said that was your cousin."

"Huh? Errr ummmm. What I meant was tha..."

"Click"

"I guess I'm taking the call operator."

Ahhhh, the good ole days...

Let Me ReIntroduce Myself...Mah Name is Flaavvv Flaavvvvv

Well, I haven't posted on this blog in many a moon. There are tons of reasons, but I guess the main one would have been because of this exhausting election season. For some reason I felt as though that I was running for some sort of office or something. There have been elections in the past where I felt passionate about what was going on, and wanted an immediate change. This one was different for some reason. But, I can't quite put my black assed finger on it. Hmmm

Another reason is my personal life which I won't get into detail about. If you have read anything I have wrote before, I'm willing to bet you fools think I went ape shit on some chick or something like that. Blah, I haven't the time for anger. Well, I do, but nothing to write about. Amazingly, I am not whoring around these days. I don't even have the urge to. I don't think I do. Check back with me in a year on that.

Holy shit, I finally paid all the tickets off and went and got my license back. A whopping $4500 to many a city, to many a court, to many a dmv(well, one anyways). The sad part is that I could have handled the shit eons ago, but I take much pride in my good intentions and zero follow through. It started getting cumbersome driving around with no L. It sucks when you need to get a pack of cigs and you're walking in the cold knowing damn well you should be driving. Now I'm a driving fool. I pull up next to the cops and let out motherfucking belly laughs. Like AAHHHHAAAAA HAA HAAA HAAA fuckers.

My blackberry was totally messed up. When I say messed up, I don't just mean the trackwheel was ruined, I mean that the company I used to work for finally figured out I had friends there still, who kept the shit on. They have a lot of nerve turning it off.

That is just my luck with electronics I guess.

My laptop is also fucked. It isn't beyond repair or anything but I'd rather buy a new one, like I got it like that or some shit. Most of the vowels on the keyboard are messed up, the motherfucking AEIOU and can you believe this shit? Sometimes the Y doesn't even work. To be honest, I watch a shitload of porn on the computer, but I have never nutted on the keyboard. So none of this sticky key shit is absurd.

Its been a few weeks after election day and I am slowly coming back to normalcy. I really don't even know what to do with myself. I find myself watching MSNBC like there is going to be some news that I missed 8 weeks ago. For weeks from 5pm to 2am I was like a zombie in front of the television. I hated to talk on the phone or be bothered during those hours. My girl knew I was going to answer the phone kust to say I have to call her back because Chris or Keith was on the tube. I kind of miss all of the stuff in a way. But what do I do now?
From The BlackBerry

Hey Hey Memorial Day ~ I'm A Veteran! Random Thoughts!

I guess it has been a long while. I have run out of things too say. That isn’t a bad thing at all though. I know one thing. I am hungry as hell right now. It is time to cook the pork chops. I don’t know about my metabolism. I have been told, that at my age, it slows down. I thought it was supposed too a couple years ago. Perhaps I am just blessed in that aspect. Even my beer belly has a hint of the six pack that was there years ago.

I haven’t been writing anything lately. I don’t have a reason, I guess like with other things, I get bored with it. It is over 100 posts. That’s pretty damn good, for me. Another thing is that this is election year, and I have been spending most if not all of the time I am online, reading about the election, the hideous Clintons, the disgusting bill, and the fucktard hilary. The race has shown me that anyone can be a politician. Even an idiot like me. One day I guess I will get into it. The only thing is that I don’t know how I would feel having people that may have some negative info about me neutralized. I mean, for political reasons, if it is personal, I wouldn’t care. “Ha ha ha”

Oh, I see you looking with your looking ass. Smh.

I did do something yesterday. We went to the beach. It was cold as fuck out there. California is looking better and better. But I have decided to go back to school to get certified. Sucks that I have too, but its good to have some crap to fall back on, I guess. It sucks because it is the shit you already know, but you have to pay arms and legs for someone to give you a gerade on shit you are already familiar with. Boooooo!

Oh, I went on an audition last week. The first time in so may years. The funny thing is that for me, it went horrible. I decided to write my own monologue. And me being me, I forgot it totally. Like back in the day, I just made it up as I went along. I didn’t realize that I had the wrong point of focus, I was looking down and away, when the part called for me to look up, and out of it. In my mind that is. Bottom line, I sucked. But at least I did it. No resume, no photos, just me with a smile and a dream.

I have a ton of good news. But nothing I am willing to share here.

Well, maybe I am having too much sex. That and eating more than usual. Drinking less beer. Still don’t know how I feel about that though. My patches never came. Actually, I don’t think the shits were ever mailed out, to be honest. Sometimes you cant count on no one but yourself. And with that I am okay with. Why let others let you down, when you can easily fuck things up for yourself.

My fiancé has been over a lot. She watches too much BET. I hate that channel. I feel like a moron watching the shit. MTV never gets any play here. I think I am going to finagle the remote to block both of them. Those and faux news.

I need to be cooking something. At the buffet earlier, I found a new treat. It isn’t new, but, it is mint chocolate chip ice cream, followed quickly with a bite of honey dew melon. I don’t know what it is, but it is the best shit I have ever tasted. Maybe there is a kid on the way, and I am experiencing some cravings. Who knows? I sure don’t, but it is good.

Yo, it is hot as hell in the house right about now. I am butt assed naked too, with socks on. I don’t know if I want to put the air conditioner in just yet though. I just might though. We as people, are never satisfied, are we?

It could be worse. I mean I could have ocd or some shit. Or even worse, be cancer. Bwhahahahahhahahahahahahahaha!


shit, i have some pics to post. classic...........

MidDay Mood Muzic ~ Dedicated To Your Nosy Lookin Ass...

Good shit here...

You won't stay and you won't go
Love shouldn't be so complicated
You won't say yes you won't say no
Yellow lights you've contemplated

Tell me when will you decide
Baby if it's you and I
Just can't keep me on the side forever

You think that our love is stong
I just can't keep hanging on
What you going to do when tomorrow gone forever

You keep running in and out of my mind
Hello goodbye

You don't laugh and you don't cry
Love can't live without emotion
You don't reveal and you don't hide
Wearing your disguise out in the open

Tell me when will you decide
Baby if it's you and I
Just can't keep me on the side forever

You think that our love is stong
I just can't keep hanging on
What you going to do when tomorrow's gone forever

You keep running in and out of my mind
Hello goodbye(2x)
You keep running in and out of my mind
Hello goodbye

You're so hot and you're so cold
Love is here and then love leaves
And you switch so fast I don't know
If my head can handle the speed

Tell me when
Tell me when will you decide
Baby if it's you and I
Just can't keep me on the side forever

You think that our love is stong
I just can't keep hanging on
What you going to do when tomorrow's gone forever

Tell me when will you decide
Baby if it's you and I
Just can't keep me on the side forever

You keep running in and out of my mind
Hello goodbye(2x)
You keep running in and out of my life
Hello goodbye

You come and you go
Hello hello goodbye
(9x)

Patriot Acts Up

I have realized that during this campaign, something that I have almost always believed. There are a lot of bigoted assed white people. And you know it starts from the top, and tends to work its way down. Now, I know for sure that Black folks are racists, and bigoted. Almost no denying that at all, not from me. Can you really blame us? I mean really? White people for the most part like to sweep the shit under the rug, as if things have been peachy here in the united states for years.

Microsoft word wants me to capitalize united, and states. It can kiss my ass.

I was looking at old civil rights videos, and looking at the days when water hoses were sprayed on demonstrators, banging them against walls. Dogs being sic’d on tenns and people trying to march peacefully just to be seen as equals. And that shit wasn’t even fifty years ago. Crosses still burn on lawns. The word nigger is still painted on cars and houses of black folks. And for what? For being black? I mean what was the purpose really? How in the blue fuck would you hate someone, that you probably have it way better than, in terms of status, money respect, and whatever else there is. I never really thought about it that way. I never questioned as to why. When I did, it makes no fucking sense. What in the hell did any Black people do to these nasty fucking racists?

Are they upset that they can no longer get the free labor, they got for hundreds of years? Are they mad that slavery ended? Sometimes I guess that’s what it is. They are mad not to have niggers busting their ass for free anymore. This sense of white entitlement is just so damned funny.

I was watching more news reports about senator Obama’s pastor, and the words he used on a particular sermon. And you know my feeling on it? So the fuck what. The media and all of these low class idiots sit there and question the man’s patriotism. I mean, if he pissed on Lyndon Johnson’s face while he was a medical tech, during his surgery, then you would have a legitimate claim to question it.

This election makes me sick now.

Integration was the worse ting to happen to black folks in this country. I don’t hate white people for being white. I have white friends. Some even moved on my block.(pun) and I do not truly think that most are racists. It is just the majority of them do not seem to have the common sense to realize where we come from at times. You cant blame them, because they will never know what its like to be discriminated against. Not in the same fashion we are.

Yes, I’m rambling. Sue me.

I had a white friend, a co worker. Real cool guy, we got along great. We went on a business trip for the company, and was holed up out of state for a few weeks. The subject of race came up while we were guzzling 40oz. He was pretty much ghetto as I was, but he didn’t realize what type of opportunity that he had by being white. Now, the reason I was sent on this trip is because I knew what I was doing at the job. I bust my ass everyday. I came in every morning around 6:30am, opened the office up, got the coffee going, made sure whatever agenda for the day was listed on the boards, I mean I did some shit. And none of that was even anything I had to do. I was at work before the managers were. Basically, I worked twice as hard. But here he comes, doesn’t know too much, and asking me questions, and really didn’t care too much about the job, but he was handed some great assignments. I would sit there and drop my jaw at times. It’s funny now.

I tried to explain shit to him that, he unlike me, had a chance to move up in the company. A better chance than I did. He just could not get it. I told them that they sent him down there with me to show him how it’s done. They were grooming him. It didn’t really sink in until I said that shit. I just told him to watch what happens when we get back to jersey.
We get back and a week later he comes to me and says “yo, you were fucking right.” And lo and behold, the dude gets offered the position I had been jockeying for, for the last few months. He wasn’t even there a year yet. Me, there three years by then. The funny thing is that after he got this gig, he hated it. He was in the office training new employees, his feet was on the desks, he was making inappropriate comments to the chicks there, and giving them fools like three hour lunch breaks. One of the managers came to me and told me they think they made the wrong decision. No shit.
This would not be the last time this happened to me. But that there was enough for me to say, wow, some things just will not change.

Its like white people really don’t know how good they have it at times.

Sighs.

The go back to Africa thing was always funny. I mean when someone of another race tells a black person that. That’s bananas. I remember Marcus Garvey had the idea for all the Black folks here n the good ole u.s.a. to get on some boats and go the hell back. It is just too bad that the BOI, that’s the pre FBI, headed by none other than J Edna Hoover herself, indicted the man on bullshit mail fraud charges. I guess they saw that they weren’t going to get cheap labor from niggers anymore and put it to a halt as fast as they could. Sometimes when I think about it, I chuckle at the fact that the government would have sunk the boat as soon as it was in the deep waters.

Patriot. I was a patriot I guess. I joined the Navy and all. I don’t know if I had really noticed racism until I got there. I was only 17 and fresh out of high school when I arrived. I mean the shit was pure and uncut. But my first taste of it came from my company commander, who was from Kentucky, and had a strange resemblance to Hitler. Just looked thinner. I shit you not. So it is early one morning, it is still dark out. And we are lined up, and he calls me Simpson. I reply to him that I wasn’t Simpson, he was right next to me. Quick witted as he was, he says to me; “Well, if you niggers would smile more often, I could see you better when it’s dark.” I don’t think I have ever felt so small in my life. But what really killed me is that it got such a hearty laugh, especially from the white boys, and them southern black kids. Now, I am a quick witted person, I was even better back then. But, I didn’t know what to say. I started to wonder what it was I did. I wondered if I was stupid for trying to correct him. Here I was, one of his best recruits(his words) he had, but I was made small as shit, in a heartbeat. Yes, me the fucking patriot.

I wish I could say that this is the end of my rant.

Good Times If I Were The Writer ~ I Feel Complete

And Here The Fuck We Go!

“Flawda, I’m putting this Black Jesus up because I think he is gonna get me a Job Flawda, he been bringing me luck all week! HA HAAAAA”

“James, now you know aint no good coming from that black assed Jesus, please take it down so we can stay here in the slums of the ghetto, James pleeeeaaaaaaaase”

“Maa Noooooooooo. How will all the bitches think I am still DY-NO-MITE, If you make Dad take down Black Jesus?”


“Yeah Momma, what gives? This would perplex the situation and just another reason why the Black community will no longer rise above what is inconsequential in the mainframe of the dubious genetics of the powers that is.. (snaps in Z formation)



“WTF?! Jamessss!”



“That fruity Nigga aint my seed. Where the lightskin come from Flawda, where da lightskin come from, huh?”



Jamesssssssssss Ah!”


“What Bitch!? Y’know what Flawda? Your ass been keeping us down. Every damn time I get a hustle, or some money from no where, your ass always against it! Remember the bag o money I found and shit? Yeaaaah hoe, not No Mo!!"



Jamesssssssss Ah!”



“Nah, hells nah Flawda. I’m Sick of this shit. Remember the time I found the money in front of the market, and you said I should return it? $27,000 dollars Flawda! Bitch, we could have had….



Bbbb But Jamessssssss Ah!”

“But dad, Mom’s cooking pork chops tonight, kool-aide delight and they are going to be DY-NO…..”

“Junior, get the fuck away from me, before I break your corny ass down into two pieces.”

“Oh DYNO shit!”



“HaHaHaHa....Glad I look good!”



“You know what? I’m out! Fuck you and you and you. And I’m taking this Black Jesus with me.

“No James No!!!!”

“Naaaaah, uhn uhn, I’m Out bitch!” last time I give up some cash fucking with your bright colored wearing do gooding always want to keep us down never wanting us to get ahead ghetto project loving gap toothed gay son having short fro looking ass nigga ass, ass! These hoes gonna help me pack….say goodbye ladies!

Funny Animations @ Youvee.net



Funny Animations @ Youvee.net

Too Much TV For Me!

I have been watching too much late night television these days. After working all day I have something that keeps me up for most of the night. I guess you can say it is the light that stays on, and the television that keeps running.

I know watching so much television is bad for me. It really makes the brain cells disappear into a land where they can never be found again. I mean it could be worse. I could be from Memphis, I’d kill myself if I were. However, back to this television thing. In the late evening a smorgasbord of shows come on, that normally I would not watch, but I like to look for things to complain about.

Like this one show; Designing Women. What the hell was this crap?



I gave this show a shot. I figured it was one of those progressive shows from the 80’s and 90’s. what I found out that this show is pure tee shit. Nothing more than a shit load of big words, put together to make them sound like they are saying something. But when you get to the end of it, you find out that it was just bullshit. Like I guess the one you would call the main character. The one that was Mr. Drummond’s wife on Different Strokes. I watched at least 2 weeks of this crap, and every single show, this broad makes a ranting speech about nothing. Just makes you want to wish that David Hasselhoff would come from no where and tell her to shut the fuck up. And then Kitt would drive through the wall, running her over, killing her instantly, and at the same time ripping off the clothes of the skinny Delta Burke and the other chick. I guess this election season is getting to me, and the chick sounds like Clinton. And who wants to hear that shit?


Not me. Luckily, I figured out to use my remote. It takes me using two hands because its broke as hell, but damnit, now I can turn to some other bullshit to complain about.


Like this shit.



Now, don’t get me wrong, this show is a classic. I will forgive the fact that I don’t think I ever saw any people of color on the show. Being that this dude was Cuban doesn’t mean anything. When have you ever met a Cuban that admitted to being a person of color? Going once….Twice……Sold! Never.

This guy was the ultimate hater. As talented as his wife was, albeit a fuck up, he never let her get any shine. Damn shame to. But that isn’t the point here. The point is that he was garbage. I watched and watched. He couldn’t play the damn Congo drums. The shit was always off step. I would listen with a good ear. Nothing impressed me Rick! And the singing. I had to research this shit, and come to find out, he actually did sing. There must have been a shortage of talent in those days. Cant play the damn drums, and it isn’t like he needed sticks. Hell, I can still bust out the beginning of purple rain with my right hand, in perfect harmony. I watched closely, and it seemed as though his band want wanted to whup his off key ass after the show.

Yes, I have too much time on my hands it seems. That isn’t the case though. I don’t know what the case is though, when I find out, I will let you know.



THE most overrated show in history in my humble opinion. I really tried to watch this show and see what all the hub bub was about. This shit wasn’t funny to me. I don’t know why, everyone else seemed to think it was.

I guess I like my television white people to be rich, and depressed over regular white people on television stuff. You know, the Porsche has a scratch, the pool boy drowned in the hot tub and now you have to sprinkle coke on him to not catch a case.

Funny though, I did read that they won the lottery or some shit and got out the slums or whatever. Now that’s how I like my white folks, rich and void of any concern of others.

I Hate Musicals ~ As Well As You Should

It has been a while. Ugh, I think I need to go into the world a little bit more. The weather is nice as of late.

Well, I am in the house, and I am channel surfing with my half dead remote. It is more cracks in the shit than in the mind of a cancer woman, but I digress.

But anyways, Willy Wonka came on television, and I say to myself; “I haven’t seen this in a while, guess I will check it out.” That was until the singing began. I cant do it, I cannot subscribe to musicals. His movie is a damn musical. I don’t know if it is a testosterone thing. But I am sure that it is leaning into that direction. I cannot deal with movies where music is the theme here. It is my belief that musicals belong on Broadway and not in the movies. How the hell can you sing a dialogue?

The shit irks me until no end. I had to meditate and go back into my past. I was looking for a time where I actually did like musicals. I couldn’t find one. Now when I was a boy, I remember liking “The Wiz” and the song easing on down the road. That was a long time ago, and I figure that my level of blackness was developed at an early age. An all black cast shitting on that drug head Dorothy. Served them right.

But hat was the only song I would listen too. Don’t remember singing along, bobbing my head or anything, but I do remember not being able to wait to see Lena Horne, and Richard Pryor. I really thought Rich was going to curse Dorothy out, and tell Michael to put some bas into his damned lungs and shit. I dare to dream.

I remember my pops would watch this video when it was my time to visit his spot. It was called Fast Forward. It was some shit where there was a group of kids that went to the city to become dancers. It was made in the 80’s, and it was gay as hell. None of them dudes were fucking the chicks they were dancing with. Want to impress me, dance your dick in her mouth. I think they won. I could be biased because I don’t remember any break dancing in the film.

I could have went off course with that right there.

Some months ago, I had the privilege to spend an evening at a female friend’s house. Little did I know what I was in store for. It was cool, I got to eat, and you know I loves to eat. But there was a penalty. I had to sit through two entire movies that involved singing and dancing. One of them was with dancing damned penguins, fucking dancing, tap dancing assed penguins. Man listen, I sat on the couch squirming. I tried to force myself to go to sleep, but I was outnumbered by people that were delighted by this film. It really hurt my manly soul. I caught myself tapping my foot at one point. It was because I had to pee, but nonetheless I believed my leg had turned on me, so I went into the kitchen grabbed a knife and threatened my leg. The movie was almost over by the time I limped back into the viewing area. I was good at that point.

Until

They threw on another gay assed dancing movie. It was on of those You Got Served movies. I don’t know which one, what the name of it was, but I got the bottom line of the moral of the story. Oh yeah, that singer dude Chris Brown was in it, and got killed in like the first 7 minutes. WTF?! I actually think the dude can sing. I mean, I sat through the movie, only to see if the guy was going to return as someone with brain damage, one immobile arm, and one leg shorter than the other, pop lock his team to victory. That never happened, and of course I was let down, as always.

Don’t get me wrong. I will go see a performance, not a movie, or a musical, but I would go see the Alvin Ailey group dance. Its an art form that is not captured on film. And not by the shit they doing these days. I mean, if I was suffering from epilepsy, and had the occasional hekry jerky movements, I might make my own youtube video and become a star for a day.

I remember at one point was talking to this trollop. It seemed as though Everytime we spoke this movie Dreamgirls was on. She begged me to watch it. Damned that. I saw the commercials. All of them hoes were singing, in each and every thirty second spot. No dice. I considered it once. But only after the hoe started crying during the movie. I figured that I would be more likely to fuck if I had any knowledge of this film. You know, talk slick and be like “yeah, she can sang, lemme finger bang ya while you watch.” Thank goodness I didn’t have to watch it just to get some pussy. A hoe’s a hoe at the end of the day. Another thing is that I will never watch, willingly a movie that Beyonce stars in, or has a part of. She is nice to look at no doubt, and she can definitely get it. But since the Austin powers debacle, I swear off any of her films. It is like watching paint dry. Horrible to say the least. She needs to take a seat or two.

Ah Ha! In writing al of this, I remember now where my distaste of musicals came from. When I was in like 4th grade, I had the biggest crush on a chick named Shaniqua. She was one of those light skinned chicks, with the light eyes that were popular in the 80’s. I was willing to do anything to get next to her. And I mean anything. So anything was join the chorus. She was in the damn chorus. So, I went to the music teacher and auditioned. Now, I wasn’t the only guy that was in awe of her, I got the idea from my friends at the time. They didn’t pass the singing tests, but I did. HA! So there was little competition for her affection.

Everytime we had a rehearsal, I would scoot my ass over to get closer to her. I thought that if she heard my melodious tunes, she would fall head over heels for me. The only problem was I couldn’t sing for shit. And she would look at me when I was busing out the tunes with an evil eye. My voice may have been changing or something.

Every so often during rehearsal, the music teacher would group people up, so we could try to memorize the words to the songs. Here was my shot, I was paired with Shaniqua. Interestingly enough though, over the weekend, she was in an accident. Her eye was totally purple and black. She was still cute, but I mean damn. It was disturbing to say the least. She says that she fell off her bike, but it looked more like she fell off the bike because someone punched her dead in the eye.

I was okay with it. I mean how could she turn me down now? She looked like half raccoon. So we partner up, to memorize the words to some song. If I remember correctly, it was by “Wham” wake me up before you go..go. Gay, we should have seen the writing on the wall then about George. So we get to singing and what not, but something was off. It wasn’t the tone, her eye or anything. It was that her breath had hit me square in the nose. It was horrid. I don’t know what they served at lunch that day, but I am sure it wasn’t country fried shit with a side of ass dipped in feet juice. I know I didn’t have that. I guess she packed her lunch in her care bear lunch box.

I couldn’t go on. That is the funny thing though about some folks. You gravitate away from them, and then they become the ones to try to scootch over to your ass. Nahhhhhhhh son, not today. It was like that for the rest of my time in the chorus, which I grew to hate. When we finally had our little concert, I was moving my lips and just as lackadaisical as I could be. I couldn’t be more disinterested at that point.

Therefore, I hate musicals. And that has noting to do with the fact that the group got to go to NYC to see “A CHORUS LINE”

And I was one of the fools caught climbing rocks in central park, and got suspended for such. My excuse was that we just left a 2 hour gay production with singing and dancing.

A one day suspension turned quickly into 4 days.

How the hell was I supposed to know the vice principal was a lesbian?

99 Problems and....

I like this one a tad bit more. thanx annie in or. :)

Hillary Is Going To Win ~ I Have The New Math!

lmao and tgen some.

Papa Do Preach

Father Knows Best!

Beat Down The Bitter Bitch!

Sometimes...Wish I Saw The Exit Sign First ~ Gud Muzik

Home Improvement Random Thoughts

Well, well, well. It has been one hell of a week. Can’t say it was all too bad. The weather seems as though it is going to finally break. Nothing energizes me more than the sun, the sun and good music. So imagine my delight when I am walking around in the city with my earphones, aimlessly nonetheless.

All week I have been doing the home improvement thing. Installed a new hot water tank, which took countless trips back and forth to the hardware/barber hop/candy store. Thank goodness he had everything I needed. Too bad it took more than 5 trips to figure that out. After all of that was done, I see that blocking off the pipes had caused the tub to fill up. Talk about pissed. I had bought a new rod, curtain, towel racks, all this shit for the new occasion, and here I go again, back to the hardware store. A damn snake I had to buy. Of course the shit doesn’t do anything. So then I go BACK to the store, and get this high powered drano stuff. I mean I thought it was about to do the damn thing, as soon as I poured it in, all I heard was a sizzling, like bacon in the pan. I bought at least 4 bottles of this expensive shit. Poured 3 of them in and let it stay there for the night. I was ready for it to be resolved in the morning.

HA! That shit didn’t do anything. I was already fuming at the thought of spening money on a plumber or some shit. But before that, I figured I’d go to the basement to look at the pipes. I don’t know why I never looked at the shit before. I have looked at these pipes forever before, just never thought too much of it. Well, lo and behold. The idiot that installed them had the pipes all fucked up. From the drain, directly underneath, there were three elbows. The shit looked like a roller coaster. So, now I am fuming, because the only way to fix this is to cut them, being PVC and all. I go outside, and look and see if my uncle and his boy is around. You would think that the old man would help me, he did, he helped by telling me what to do. I guess I should be gracious for that, right? I am, but damn, I could have used some help. But they know I’m cheap. LOL.

Fine, that’s done. Bathroom fixed up, and everything is super clean. I must have stayed in the shower for 2 hours. It sure beats the tub upstairs. I hate that big assed old tub. Feel like I am in a 1920’s silent film in that thing.

Needless to say, I am quite motivated right now. In cleaning up, I found that a lot of the bullshit in this apartment does not belong to me. So, you know all of that shit goes right to the basement or the garbage. And to be honest, there are only two reasons why I even bothered to clean the shit up to begin with. One of them being that my weight bench is in there, and I am so much in need to relieving tension. One of the ways is working out, the other is getting my hair twisted. I was so close to just cutting it off last week. But I looked at some old pics, and decided to keep it. I mean why the hell not? I think I look like jesus with a full beard and my locs. The only thing I will remember to do these days is to twist them myself when I am bored. That’s what I did most of the day, sat back, watched movies and twisted my own shit. They are much longer than I thought.

Back to working out, I should be pissed about the bench. While it was sitting there in no mans land, the butterfly got bent, the attachment to hold the bar is missing, its just all messed up. Now I think I am going to have to undo all of the boxes I put shit in to find it. It’s like working against my self. Will not be the first time though. For now the butterfly is at least usable, and I have the pulley bar until I find the shit. I don’t know if it is possible, but I am missing weights too. The iron ones at that. There is no way anyone would steal those, but then again, I am in the hood. I did do what I could do with what I had. For 3 straight days I was on the bench, so right now my arms, stomach, shoulders are in pain, but it’s a good pain I guess. Soon as I eat, and finish this I am off to the new workout room.

I have a new phone number, that I don’t even know yet, I should say have never known. My back up cell phone that is. My me memory always fails me. I could have sworn I made an over payment on the other joint, but no, seems as though it was under payment, go figure. So when I call them to change the number, they tell me I cant and that I owe. Damn, that’s what I get, something tells me if I kept my gums from flapping, it would be on now. I will worry about that later. Tired of the shit ringing anyways, ya know? I want a new blackberry or the htc phone, anything with windows mobile. I refuse to get an Iphone. If I wanted an ipod I would have got one, besides, my fingers are too fat for that shit.

I don’t know where this blog is even headed. There is a new one, but I have been too busy around the house to pay it any mind, for the time being. There is a link here somewhere, but I don’t even know on what post I put the link in. Trying to be secretive, I done hid it from myself. I have so many emails and passwords, I don’t know what account I used to sign it up with. It will come to me, probably when I am far away from a machine. Cant even view who is looking at this one anymore, I let that subscription lapse, because I figured I wouldn’t be making anymore posts here, oh well. I installed a new browser today, the crap works slower than the other ones. This is really the wrong machine to be trying to utilize five different web browsers. I pulled the old bookmarks and looked at some sites I haven’t looked at in a while. I see some folks are still up to their whorish ways. Damn, even whores for jesus. But that’s a different story I suppose.

I’m cooking pork chops!!!

My appetite has been off the chain for the last few months. I’m not eating for two, at least I hope not, and if I were, I would be shocked. Sympathy pains my ass, I’m just hungry. The dude at the soul food spot gave me a free meal the other day, i thought it was funny. He told me it was because I was always his best customer. I spent a small fortune in there, and it was worth every penny actually. I guess I spoiled myself by eating good. I cannot eat any fast food these days. It is rare, and when I do I feel sick after doing so. The same when I drink soda, just cant do it.

The pork chops are done! Damn any sides though. This is going to be the other white meat only night. This new diet, on paper makes me look like a fat slob. I counted, there are at least 4 meals, and 4 snacks during the day.

Doing all this work around the house kind of makes me want another kid, a son actually. I was thinking about having a little man there to hand me tools and things while I am putting up a wall, or ceiling, as I have been doing the last two days. How sweet is that? My attention turned to my own pops. That dude didn’t teach me a damned thing. I mean shit, he was a mechanic, you would think he would show me how to fix a carburetor or some shit, right? I guess men have biological clocks too. My daughter is nobody’s tomboy whatsoever. And rightfully so. I mean what five year old doesn’t want to go anywhere without her purse? LOL. Damn shame there are cats out here that want noting to do with their own kids. I guess I know how that feels, and no kid should have to live that. Maybe I will find a boy kid, and adopt him, or join a big brothers thing. I don’t know. I can do anything. I mean, I fixed the damn pipes didn’t I? Almost lastly, do not surround yourself with liars, or weirdos, when you do that, they bring you down, and will make up anything to make you think you are as fucked up as they are. Be honest with yourself first, and then you may be able to be honest with others.

Why is my hair in pony tails? I feel aerodynamic or something, ive been running around the house like I got boosters on or something.

It is time to eat!!!

PEACCCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

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.

Late Night Groove Therapy

Due To My Current Mood ~ I Had To Repost This

I will of course Revise this later. OCD And BiPoarism is some serious shit. Sometimes it is better to be honest, seek help, or someting. But then again, some people know how to push people away with a mere act. Cant fall for the okie doke.

I like crazy people. No, I love crazy people. I mean I lovvvveeee crazy people. I know I do, and you know why? Yup, you guessed it, because I am just as crazy.
Now, I think there are certain levels of crazy though. if I get to the level of crazy, where I shit in a frying pan, season it, put some oil in it, and try to fry it by holding a match under it, that wouldn't make me crazy. I would be crazy if I didn't realize the match was burning my fingers.
One day I was bored and decided to write down a list of relationships, good or bad. Now, not just romantic ones, but any type. At some point you go through the names, and say; "Yeah, that fool was crazy". But, you need to realize that if that person was crazy, wouldn't you be just as insane to have dealt with them? Makes sense to me.
Now, what makes someone crazy? Hmmm, good question. I always wondered if certain situations make people crazy too. I know that if I meet a "regular non crazy" chick, her ass will be crazy when I'm done with her ass. However, being that I am already crazy, I will attract only crazy chicks. I don't believe in the bible nonsense, but I do believe in energy, and the power of the mind. So if I send out crazy energy, what the hell else will I get?

I'm on my blackberry. Something smells funny. It’s not me this time I promise.

I knew I was crazy when I was a kid. I try not to blame it on molestation, or the fact that the back of my head was bust open, to the white meat, same spot but different occasions, nooooo. I should though, don't ya think? I remember how quick tempered I was. I would occasionally black out and beat the hell out of one of my friends. I had to be crazy, because they always had older bigger brothers, who in turn would fuck me up. All is fair in love and crazy I suppose.
I met a chick once from black planet, her name was beautifully7krazy. Guess what? She is just that. what's fucking with we are in court right now fighting over my child. Oh, didn't meet her on BP, wish I did, because then, it was only jump off city for me.
I may be crazy, but there are ones that are even crazier. People that use all their energy, to try not to appear crazy. When folks go way out to be nice, or to make it seem like their shit is together, they are crazy too. But it takes a special someone like me to bring it out.
Pussy and dick can make folks crazy too. Once, or I should say a few times, I was out driving around with a friend, smoking weed, drinking or whatever. He had me pull up to his baby mother's apartment building, in the back. We get out, but we don't go in. We are chilling in the damn cut. So I ask;

"Dude, don't you want to go inside?"

"Nah, we can chill and smoke right here yo"

"Nigga, we can go back in my car, its cold as fuck"

"Nah man, I'm about to catch this bitch cheating"

"By standing in the alleyway? Don't you have keys?"

"True"

See, it happens. I know I have given mr girthy left hooker to a few chicks that may have went bonkers at some point. You know they crazy when they banging on your door at 2am, talking about "I couldn't sleep". Well damnit, now I can't. The worst are the married broads. If you are getting fucked properly by me, and you even consider leaving the fool who said his "I do" in the name of love, then, you are fucking crazy.

Keep in mind that I am crazy. Years ago, when I was maybe 19/20, I dealt with, for the first time, a married woman. I know she was way older than I was, but didn't look it. She was actually drop dead fine. But, just because you are gorgeous, doesn't mean you are sane. She would want to go out in public, to places in the daytime, actual daytime. Crazy!!! We cannot be in no damn red lobster on route 22, during lunch. WTF?!!
But since I am crazy, I rolled with it. Nothing like the threat of death by a nigga sticking a king crab leg through your heart. I'm glad I left that alone. However, when you a youngin, man listen, that older pussy, its like, its like heaven wrapped in velvet filled with butter.

We are all crazy. We have all been in crazy situations. And at some point, we all will be in one or more. Be careful who you point a finger at, because for that one finger you are pointing, there are people that know who you really are, and they not only point; but laugh too.

Nurture Nature Genetics Repair

In my self imposed solitude I have nothing other to do but think. Most of the times when I do this I am listening to my mp3 player, and just lost in thought. That can be a good thing, or a bad thing. It depends on what happened that day, or the day before, and I try to use at least ten to twenty minutes to meditate. Recently I was thinking about something;

Nature versus Nurture.

Pretty much because I wanted to figure out about me. How did I become the person I am? What did I go through in life to mold me into the asshole I am? I wonder if it is genetic. I mean, is my temper a result of the genes given to me by my father? I have heard stories of his temper being legendary. Hell, I have felt a belt on my ass growing up, and that was legendary. I always used to ask myself, what the hell did I do to get shit on like this? I didn’t quite understand until I heard stories of his dad, my grandpa, who as legend goes, was superb at whooping ass. Hell, with eight kids, I wouldn’t see any other way to raise knuckleheads, growing up in the hood. Knowing that I guess I could give my pops a pass, somewhat, but not all the way. I think far more than I eat, so I am not sitting on fat people logic.

Now, let me take a scenario here. Let’s say your folks were neglectful, disrespectful, and basically did not care what it was you thought, even if you had valid points? But you grow up around this, and this is all you know? Years later, you are an adult, and you sort of exemplify the same characteristics, that you saw in your folks, within yourself. Is it difficult to change the mentality that you have? Will you chalk it up as that’s how you were raised, and you aren’t going to change, even if it does nothing but alienate the people around you, that sincerely love and care for you? If you know that about yourself, and if you didn’t appreciate it then, why would it be so hard to see the bullshit in yourself and make a conscious effort to try to do things different?

That is the nurturing of a person I guess.

These are random thoughts.

Nature

With my temper, I am pretty sure it is genetic. Both my folks have tempers. When I was a kid, I had my little black out moments. I know I used to beat up good friends when I was between seven and ten. I would then, not forget, but nix it off as if it was nothing. Or say something outlandish to someone causing them to feel a certain way. I guess it was genetic that I was too blunt at times.

Nurture

Like, if you missed out on things, or you felt in some ways neglected. You may grow up having this feeling of “Me against the world” attitude. The shit isn’t cute though. I used to feel that way, and in most ways I still do. But I try to recognize it, instead of rationalizing it. I would rather fix it, instead of letting it continue to overwhelm me, at the worst possible times. I mean, I used to be really weary of someone that wanted to care about my ass, and I probably was put off because I didn’t understand it. So what I did was give them my ass to kiss. Or I would just shy away. Like, if I was in a relationship, I felt there was no need to have to answer to my girl. Simply because, I felt as though I didn’t have too. I didn’t respect them enough to even bother. Maybe subconsciously I would rather live the rest of my days alone. Like, i would get called all the time. And when I answer, I was pretty much an ass. Like, why do you even care? And the subconscious was actually, “why do you care? No one else does, why should you?” that is such a hard thing to break I guess. But I am learning, I am rededicating, and trying to not make the same mistakes as I once did.

Random