What Would Jesus Do, If He Was a Tea Party Wingnut ‘Christian’?

What Would Jesus Do, If He Was a Tea Party Wingnut ‘Christian’?

Peyown Blaw Peyown Blaw ya missed, I'm dodging them. ha

Hot Daaaaaaaammmmnnnn

Man listen, you ever feel like skipping? That's how I feel right now, I feel like skipping like a lil blind lesbian in a fish market! POW!!!

I dodged a bullet like a mugg. My life hasn't been worthy of canonization by any means. Just read the blog, I fucked so much I am surprised I don't get a check for my services. But I got down with a chick once a long time ago, it was brief, pretty much one and done. Strapped up and everything. But Wheeew.

Lemme explain. When I can't sleep, I stay up(duh) and get online and look for the most random shit I can find.

Tonight it was dead porn stars night. I was wondering about the Aids and suicide rate is with those performers. I had thought of a chick from the only porno tape I had since like eigth grade. Her name was Jordan McKnight. Lawd she was fine, just my speed. Chocolate skin, full lips, great tits and ass. The epitome of what a Black woman should be, in my eyes anyway.

With all the porn I have watched since having that one video tape, I wondered why I didn't see her anymore. So I looked her up. I remember hearing she got the package. The monster. The three letter deader. So I'm searching, can't find her. Know what that means? Yup, ADHD rears its head, and I get sidetracked. So I happen upon this website called pink cross. Holy crap, it was made by a former star who is born again or something and wants to stop the evils of the industry. I was reading about the std statistics, and the deaths and the suicides. Some eye opening stuff. Oh, I also learned that even that industry is bigoted. I saw no mention of any Blacks that died for their craft. At least I didn't see pictures of any.

Let's just say this. I think my porn addiction might be over after reading some of that shit. Because if I'm looking and watching while one hand mouse clicking, shit will be in the back of my mind. "Oh she aint creaming, that ghonnorhea!" Or "Wow, I wouldn't eat that pussy if I were you, that looks like a simplex there buddy.". So now one of my last small pieces of some freedom is fading away. Great!!! Thanks internet!!!

You know I went way around the country to get back to my original point of dodging a bullet? I'm one long winded fucker. So I briefly had a fling with a single mom maybe three years ago. When I say brief. I mean brief. Long story short, we smash, I'm amaziing blah blah blah. Something weird went down and I left briefly after I gave her the amazing blah blah blah. But while looking at all these sites, I see all these links, clink a few. I see a support website for sex addicts. I click, I browse. Holy Shit, why does she have a pic in her profile? Why does she have more kids than I was told? Why is she on welfare living in a nice ass house? Why did she admit to fucking 16 different dudes in February? I'm no mathematician but isn't that like a different guy, no wait one guy every other day? Perhaps gangbang? "GASPS"

Thank De Lawd Fo Magnums!!!!!!
(Crowd cheers!!!!!)

Dodging Bullets!!!!

Grown Ass Man Style Kyle While While You Wild Out Child...

I am feeling so relieved these days. I've been so tired and out of it. The winter does that to me I guess. Traveling in the cold is not my cup of tea either, but I do it if necessary. Sometimes you have to understand the necessary, the needs, the bare essentials and put the wants on the wayside. Everything you want isn't good for you.

This year I started doing a ton of open mic shows. Comedy that is. And I think that I can be pretty good at it. I actually believe I can be great at it. All it takes is time and being steady on the grind with it. Which is something I can do, if it didn't require so much work. Hell, I'm lazy, what else can I say. I think the key for me would be, less beer and more be there.

I don't know but for some reason this whole week has been liberating. I sat in the house packing and cleaning, just being nostalgic about the time here. Seems like last week we moved in here. Soul searching, a lot of it. Seeing things for what they truly are and not what I wished they were. Taking accountability for what I do, and what I bring to myself.

For a long time I would take it personal if someone didn't like me, or didn't feel the same way about me as I do for them. Its like fuck it. What am I supposed to do? Cry? I have before, I won't now. I don't know how to kiss ass, brown nosing just never sat right with me. These days I just listen more intently. I try to do everything with an unmatched intensity. But I listen the best.

I listen for tones and change of speech and so on. I'm better equipped to pick up on bullshit quicker than I have before. And that's probably because I am a master bullshitter myself, I just didn't know when I was being conned. Them days are over. Words mean nothing unless you say them the right way. But the words you do say, that have a meaning behind, make sure you mean it. LOL, I don't know what has happened in a span of a few days, but I feel renewed. Its like looking in the mirror and asking myself; why am I doing this, why am I doing that?

My position in life is not where I want it to be, but I'm not mad about it. If there any failures I have it is me and me alone that have caused them. I can't give up on what I want. I can't allow myself to be sidetracked by wants and bullshit any longer. It feels good, I like it. Its going to last. It has too. Or I won't.

Let's go!

It's Been A Long Time...Sorry To Have Kept You...Without A Hot Blog To Step Too....

Uggghhhhh. Been off my grind for a long hot ass minute. So many things new. So many things old. I'm probably drinking more than usual. But less than I was ten years ago. Maybe not less, but then again, now that I think about it I've started going back to the bar. And since I happen to be the token Negro there, people buy me shots.

And then when they think I am drunk, they ask for some drugs at a discounted rate, or a freebie. What Deeee Fuck? I'm like I'm wearing a work uniform you bastard! Because I am the ONLY Black guy, you assume I deal in drugs? Now that is some preposterous shit. Sighs.

I have found a new hate, a new venom. I hate reality tv. I shouldn't even say tv, but the people that are on them. The people who get a bit of low class fame from them, and believe they are a talented person. I mean it has gotten so bad that I miss seeing Paris Hilton. I mean I am just fine with one dumb talentless bitch on the scene, but now there is a plethora of lunatics roaming the airwaves.

I know of only a few shows. I can honestly say that I have watched the flavor flav show, I watched a marathon of the real world Seattle just to see the gay Black guy slap the shit out of the white chick. I spent an entire day watching that show. An entire day. I figured that my stolen cable could get cut off at any minute, so I better get what I'm paying for while I'm not paying for it.

There's a show about some couple with like eight babies. And what pissed me off is that I am watching a regular ass news program, and I get an update about the bitch's new hairdoodoo. WTF?! Hasn't there been a shoot out in Brooklyn? Is there not a car chase in Jersey? Why the fuck is this shit on my morning news? Is it cold outside? Tell me some fucking news!! Shit, tell me some olds, something!

Ya know, I'm about to move again, and cut the cable tv off, so I am relegated to basic tv. There is a show called TMZ. I swear to you that this has got to be the saddest shit I have ever seen. The people who work on this program must have the lowest self esteem in the entire universe. You are following "celebs" around. You are following Fake celebs around. Your life must suck.

You know who I blame? Mario Armando Lavandeira Jr. Yes, Perez SuperFag Hilton. Here's the funny thing about this guy. I read he wanted to be an actor, but must have sucked horribly. Because he's a queer, and you mean to tell me he couldn't suck enough Hollywood dick to get a job on screen like 50 percent of the actors there? So no, he was sooooo mad that he was horrible, that he decided to gossip about people in the industry. Oh, and he's Cuban. If my name was Mario Armando, I'd have more than two kids.

Tell me, why are the Kardashian chicks famous? Why was the Hilton bitch famous? Why is Tila chick famous? These mother fuckers have NO talent! What are they even making a difference in? Michael Jackson didn't die of cardiac arrest, he died because he turned on the boob tube and saw that there were some untalented fucktards that were getting more shine than he was. It must suck suck suck for people that worked hard at their craft, to see people like this getting ANY attention at all. The fans have become the stars, and I cannot wait until the shit literally hits the fan.

I'm back on my grown man shit.

Do You Master Your Bation?

but damn I thought this was the time. Another let down huh? Oh fucking well, maybe next year guys.

Okay, these words would be nothing but random thoughts I guess. The topic of interest for me is Masturbation. Masturbation and the existence of God, that is. You know for many years I though that God was watching me in every step I made. I swear for the longest I would feel so guilty about whacking off. I really believed that God was watching me like a sick fuck, and putting it down in the book of my fuck ups. I used to believe that when it was my rime to go to the pearly gates, and when they rolled the footage(which would take months to view) of me jerking off, I would go directly to hell. In a hot sweet where murderers and rapists jerked off and flung their nut on each other or something.

Sick shit!!! But that's what religion does to people, it fucks them up for life if they continue to be bound and shackled to the lunacy of believing in invisible beings. I swear for a long tim I felt so guilty after busting them nuts. Before I had access to porn, in my pueberty stage, I would fuck all type of broads that I knew. Teachers and shit, chicks that I crushed on, even the snooty bitches that thought they were so fly. Hell, I remember having sex with Roxanne Shante, because KRS ONE said she was good for steady fucking.

But all those times, after I achieved the goal I had set out for, I felt guilty. I would look around and be like, "maybe God aint see me, my shades be closed, ha!" Didn't work, still felt guilty.

But Ohhh Haaa Haaaa, don't have any of those issues now. I will put it down with reckless abandon these days. As I see it, it is safer than me going out and fucking any old scallywag, as I was accustomed too in years past. And it isn't cheating either, I mean I can fuck who I want too and still look my girl in the eyes. I mean I was alone that's not stepping out boo.

You ever try to jerk off in a room where there are other present? That is some funny shit. When I was a kid, there were a couple of sisters down the street named Donna and Monie. Donna was a freak. I guess I can say she molested me, but in hindsight all she did is show me a technique that I still use to this day. This chick taught me how to hump my bed. I think she did, I mean how else would I have learned. I remember I would go to her house around the age nine or ten so we could dry hump. I mean it would just be her, me and her sister on the bed dry humping our asses off. Mone was the stunner then, but her nose was always snotty, but she made a good dry humping delight.

I recall a time when my grandmother's sister came down from Boston, and took me to chill in NYC for the weekend, when I was about twelve or thirteen. Her boyfriend Chuck, her and me had a great time. We went to the race track, went to a museum and stuff, great fun. She had a suite in a hotel, a big ass room which was kind of sectioned off, where I slept on the sofabed. That night is probably the night puberty kicked in, or was at least in full gear.

Charlie and my aunt was in the bed and she was fast asleep, snoring and the whole nine. I figured this was the time. So I get to it. I am humping that motherfucking bed. There was a problem though; Charlie talked in his sleep. And not only did he talk in his sleep, he had a severe stuttering problem. So I'm there in the bed thinking of whoever I was thinking of. I never imaginary fucked anyone famous, that was just too sick. I fucked the average chick. But listen right, I'm trying to get one off, by that time I figured that a good nut will have you sleeping nicely. And I'm trying, but all I hear is Charlie having what seemed like war flashbacks in his sleep.

I mean here I am trying to bust one off and all I hear is dddddDON'T ddddddDON'T ddddd daaaaaaaDON'T da da da da da da Don't do that Sam, ppppp pp paaaa paaaLease DdddddDont!

What the fuck?!!! Was this nigga spying on me? And who the fuck was Sam? That shit made me so mad I just stood up, walked near to where they was laying down and was like COME THE FUCK ON MAN!!!!!

The only problem is that my preteen dick made my pajama pants look like a TeePee. I learned then a hard dick will make you make the absolute worse decisions.

Needless to say, my aunt never took me to the race track again. I guess my actions were unpreDicktable.

Fin.

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