voo doo

i am reading up on it. there is no reason all this fucking hair should be in my presence. and what i am going to do what my therapists told mr to do is payback shit. well. i dont have the money. but have gifts. the baby wont miss the electronic keyboard anyways. since it was givin in bullshit i guess. what do i need a psp for? dont need the shit either. missed out on selling it due to dumb ass reasons. i guess whn you have rent to pay, tou will do anything. perhaps i am the descendant of a witch. why her spell book disappeard is beyond me. someone in the family has it. i will find the shit damnit.

Breathe I wont die, not for another 40 years I think.

so, i started something new maybe a couple months ago. of course this would leave anyone to say...

"Well, why are you posting such things in your blog?"

My answer plain and simple is because I can, and ant to. if i am bored i most definitly will> it is my nature. now anyone that knows me, personally, knows that I am a good guy. shit. even people that dont know me like that knows that. for some reason, esp at work, people always have some reason to tell me their craziest deepest darkest secrets. for some reason. the only thing is that i dont reciprocate, because when you do, and the person wasnt a friend, they will come back and throw it in your face. but i had to come to terms with my postings and writings. and i guess from the emails i recieved alot of people think it is classic/funny and want me to continue. i guess i could for the enjoyment of the people.i stopped drinking, and have also decided to stop smoking during the winter months. it is way too cold to go outside to smoke anything, including reefer. one of my biggest issues is respect, and if i feel i am not being respected, i lash out like a crazy forrest animal. that is alot of people i guess. but i cannot talk for anyone else, only for myself.

shit. so i re-meet this girl from years ago. and as soon as we talked it was like we started right where we left off. we see each other from time to time. but the more i see her the more i have to be with her. the good thing is she accepts me for who i am. she doesnt care what i have or dont have. that i smoke or drink. or anything. the shit is true. i cannot expose her at the moment because we have very very strange situations. whats funny is that we havent seen each other for years, and from the moment that we met back up, she tells me that we should have never parted. and of course me beng me, i say 'well, your ass left" and her reply was/is "im sorry" so that shuts me up right there because how many real women apologize. the shit is refreshing. because of her own situation, she knows that if need be, i will do my thing, and she canr say anything. but let her catch me out at a club/bar dancing or flirting with some chick. i know i would hear it. evenm though she has no right to say anything. but i respect her enough to cut it out. if i could i would marry her in a heartbeat. make alot of babies, and just be happy. but at the moment it will take some time. it wouldnt be right if i meet a chick, nd say "if so and so is free, your a goner" it wouldnt be, but this is why i explain my assholism from the door. i can always go back and say "hey, i told you i was an asshole, why are you shocked?"

oh boy, i am fuking sick today. coughing, sneezing, and stuff. i hope this teraflu works. even though taking meds sucks. why did i get daytime formula? the purpose of meds is to put your ass to sleep. so i think it is imperative that i drink some liquor with this daytime formula. i have a date soon, o i need to be on my a-game today and for the next few days.

random ass real ass thoughts

this apartment is indeed too cold. wondering what i should do this evening. the birthdays just arent the same anymore. i dont expect any presents or anything. i didnt get any for the last few years, so there is no way i would care this year. anything or any present for any occasion will be returned. its not like i use shit people give me. i guess when i use hard earned money and by my self someting. i feel like i have done something with my life, and pid for what i deserve to have. this is a random ass thought, so stay with me. sighs. yahoo is going thru an upgrade of some sort. i would like to send some folks my blog or whatever. it'll be back up when i am sleep though. blah to that. and AOL just plain sux donkey balls in my opinion.

if anyone were to read these posts, they could say that i am bitter, upaset, a bitch, whatever. the funny thing is that i dont care. i am not in the world to impress anyone. the only person i need to impress is close to 4 yrs old, and they get impressed easily.

i do know now that dealing with a spoiled brat a few times in my life has affected how i want my seed to be. i want my baby to have the finer things in life. but i do not want to be a crutch, or ruin her to the point that all she will ever be is a pretty face and nothing more. and i will definitly teach her, her social security number early, and teach her what i can about credit. we will start when she starts asking for money for clothes, and phones, candy and ice cream. i dont want my baby to have to work hard. but i do want her to realize that it isnt always about looks, or what man can take care of you.

i met someone that i am forever feeling sorry for. its like they just dont get it. everyone is a yes man. or everyone is telling them they are right. they dont wish to earn a buck, just sit around playing with clothes and make-up. the world is cruel. and unforgiving. i should know. i am cruel and of this world(not really) and when they fall, it will not be pretty at all. but i am evil enough to want to see shit collapse. i get off on shit like that. what can i say?

Once, I F**ked a Midget

So one night I am getting a ride home from a chick with some great tits. And we are talking about some crazy ex of hers, and somehow the subject of midgets came up. I dont know why, but it did. So, I am saying.....

Me "yo, I would fuck a midget"
Her"You would fuck a midget"
Me"Wait, I did fuck a midget"

When I got home I immediately recollected the midget stripper I smashed in the bathroom of a now gone local bar. I dont remember her name, so she will be referred to as Midge, the vertically challened hoodrat of 1998. Now, this is nothing that I am proud of, or wish to brag about. But seriously, how many of you have fucked a real live midget? Zilch, probably. My only regret that is was not on film of some sort.Well perhaps.

My friends had just "came home" after some years, so it was basically one of the just home from prison rituals. Go to the strip club, get crazy drunk, and try to get these dudes some pussy. I mean damn man. You home for 2 months and the only ass you got was from the chick that did a bid with you? Fuck that. We going out dawg. I dont know how we even maintained jobs. We was a mainstay at the bars for 5 stright weeks. And all we ever drank was Bacardi 151. straight. No chaser. what the fuck was I thinking? These niggas was the ones who was locked up forever, not me. Shit. Forever the trooper huh, Flav?

So, one night we decide to go to the dirtiest place known to man at the time, I think it was called Lucky's Palace or some shit. Cant remember. and besides, its been torn down for a while. And for good reasons, I tell you. It is a regular weeknight, maybe a tuesday, or a wednsday or some shit. So basically, the strippers were not anything to glare at, however, after 7 shots of 151, the bitches looked like buffy the body.

That 8th shot that night changed my life.Now I need to explain. There is something about 151 that does something. If you start drinking it straight, it is imperative that, that is the only drink for the rest of the evening. I see why white boys are always getting so fucked up> They like to play around and drink different shit. But living in the hood, nigga, you better just thank God that you have enough money for shots, a cab ride home(if lucky) and enough money for condoms.
So after this 8th shot, it was pretty much apparent that I was going to get some pussy. I mean shit, I had the rubbers already. this is before magnums, so you would have to buy two 3 packs. wasnt trying to go out like willy lump lump

Where was I? Oh, 8th shot. I am invincible. Now my boys were googlin the chicks on the stage, but me I done caught a bitch eye. Now she was thick as hell. The lights were low, but on weekday smut night, you cannot expect the creme de la creme. Is that how that shit is spelled?

So, she comes over to where I am sitting, and asks for a tip. never, I'm really not into that shit. call me a cheap bastard or what have you. If you chose to show your pussy to everyone, then shit, we both are winners. because no matter where you go, there is a white or indian dude in the corner with stacks of cash looking for some brown sugar. and will pay a grip, just to catch VD, bragging rights on the golf course ya know?

Shiitttttt, boy am I drunk. But it is 151, and I am super drunk, and invincible. I cannot be stopped.
Me"Why you asking for tips? you should give me all your money after i fuck you"
Midge"Nigga, I dont be trickin' for no bullshit..."
Me"so what do you trick for?"
Midge"I dont"
Me"Oh, I cant tell, you got some nice titties"
STOP

Yeah, i have no game, but what's the use of having game if you are handsome and have a nice sized dick?" anything after that with me at that time was just a bonus. here comes the bonus.

Me"Listen, I am not into all of this club shit, I know you dont want to be doing this shit. I am not going to tip you, but I can get you a drink."
Midge"Word nigga? Game"
Me"Naw, I'm serious, I'll get you what I'm drinking"
Midge"And what's that? shit, you fucking with that 151 nigga, nawwww"
Me"You got some nice ass titties"

So, she caves in and we talk for another 8 minutes i guess. She drank like 3 shots of that shit. It was 3 dollars a shot, so the bitch just cost me 9 bucks. yeah, I'm fucking. damned that. I go to the end of the bar where my boy was at. now this dude is an ultimate hater. i know he had the rubbers and shit, but all of a sudden, this fuck says he didnt, bring any because he didnt want to disrespect his girl. NEGRO, YOU CHEAT ON HER WITH THE UGLIEST BITCH IN THE HOOD. that was my train of thought at the time. he'd rather me go raw on some useless skank, and watch me die a horrible death. Just so he could say...

"You know, they was in my back pocket, my bad yo, can you sign this?"

So, now my invincible drunk ass is out the door on the way to the 24 hour bodega. 5 blocks down the fucking road, in the middle of january, with a triple fat goose that was apparently on a diet. There were feathers flying out of the jacket every step i ran. Just to what? Buy Rubbers. Saftey first kids. Dinosaurs didnt die because of a meteor, they died because they had no rubbers. that is science.Long Story Short...HAHAHAH....SHORT....I kill me.

I get back, sweating in the winter. Almost died due to running on ice patches, and damn near breaking my head open. i get back inside, and I am greeted at the bar, by Midge, and a double shot of 151. I was so drunk, I'd figured the chick would be the one, for the night. Now, I know this bar, and what happened in the back at times. Now was mine time. Fuck it, my boys still watching, and aint doing nothing. What was I? 22 at the time. i think. I dont even say anything, this chick is like her set was finished soon, and she wanted to talk to me where it was less noise. BINGO. so the rendevous is set up. Her shit is through, and she casually walks to the back. and I am not really paying any mind, just telling my boys that "i'll be back". i said it with invincibility. 151 invincible man. They was fucked up too, but pussyless. i win.

so, I go to this back room. why was this bitch like every bit of 4 feet? why was her head shaped like that? what the fuck was wrong with the lights in the front?!!! why the fuck was my dick still hard? the walk had to have sobered me up a little bit, because this is not the same chick i spent 9 bucks for some shots, subtract the shot she got me, which makes it 6, but still and all, she was behind the bar, and if she wanted to impress me, just give me the 3 bucks back, and i can get my own shot, thank you. thats a rent is due tomorrow rant. so i am like.....

Me"Yo, how tall are you?"
Midge"I dont know, maybe 4 feet 1 or some shit"
Me"what the fuck? This some weird shit, are you a.....?
Midge"everyone in my family is short like me"
Me"Was your family in the circus or some shit?"

she still had nice titties though....

Yeah, I fucked the shit out of her. You see, there is some things that you can do with midgets. i was even thinking of getting her number. i really wanted her to sit indian style on my dick and spin her around like a top, while she screamed 'wheeee" i know. I am a sick bastard. but from what I hear, they serve 151 in hell. so I may be okay.

FOUND IT....but where the eff is the rest????? grumble grumble

Rambunctious. If someone asked me to give them one word that describes me as a youth, that would be the word. And, speaking of the word, word. Thank God for Microsoft word, because I did not know how to spell that shit. As a kid, I remember being called wild, amongst other things that would fall from my mother's mouth, but I am trying to make a G rated book. I am not too concerned with her finding out about me divulging all of this. She only reads books of substance. This is indeed not in this category.

When I was about 7, I lived on 5thstreet, in the hood of the brick city. I cant remember all the details, I just remember there were a lot of Puerto Ricans. The apartments were next to a softball field and behind the field was the city subway line. I had two best friends at the time named Willie and Paul. We did everything together, we were in the same second grade class. Our teacher I believe her name was Mrs. Huganin, or some shit. I will call her Ms. H, because I am not about to type that name, and I am sure even Microsoft cant even spell check that shit. What I remember of her is that she was a black woman, kind of heavyset. All adults were heavyset as far as I was concerned though. This class was the most wild class I could imagine being in. I don't not recall ever doing class work or anything, we just ran around yelling and screaming and throwing shit. Now that I think about it, Ms H smoked cigarettes in the class, and spent most of the day with her head down. As I write this I am becoming nervous, because what if this was a fucking "special education" classroom? And also while I am writing this, I remember the teacher that put me in this mess to begin with.

Miss Fucking Green, my 1st grade teacher from another school. This chick had me kicked out of the school in the month of May because we moved to another town. I mean there was a fire in our house in the middle of a school year for goodness sakes. Now that I think about it, she was one of those unfortunate adults who saw the genius that was me, and was immediately disappointed in her own short comings. This woman was just mean. I do not know why or how or what I ever did to her. Was it my slight case of tourettes? Or was it that I was late getting to school in the Salvation Army clothes that we can only afford with the whopping 80 bucks a month I got for child support? Which by the way, I recall her pointing out to the rest of the class a few times. Did I say she was mean by the way ? I specifically remember when my pencil broke and she told me to just use the damn "pencil point". Every time I see the original wizard of oz movie, I think of her as the witch. Thanks to her I ended up in the retard class, which is probably the best, for I do not wish to be put upon the pedestal that I deserve to be on. I like the common folk.

All I remember about that summer was the rubber band. When I was kid, I don't think I was afraid of anything more then I was of getting popped with a rubber band. Especially the fat ones. Yeah, I'd pop you with one, but don't come towards me with that crap. There's going to be some consequences. The consequence was me ending up in the hospital for a week or so. Me and this chubby Puerto Rican kid named angel were laying cops and robbers or something, and we used rubber bands to shoot at one another like guns. For some reason, I was the robber, and fat angel was chasing me with the rubber band. We ran all through the field, there was no way to catch me, I was a genius, and he was chubby, there is no way I was getting locked up. No way at all. So in my criminal mind, so fresh with ideas at the ripe age of 8, I decided to climb up the softball fence, and shoot rubber bands from above. Damn right, that was a good idea. Superb comes to mind when describing it really. Now the top of the fence was a local hang out of most of the kids during the summer, we would jump on it, roll around, do whatever we pleased. So I was very comfortable. Chubby angel would not be climbing his robust behind up here and I was a sure winner in this battle of the minds.

So I am on the top of the fence, and I am reloading the rubber bands off of my forearm like I was Rambo. PAP, POW, PAP PAP, PAP POW. He got nothing for me. However, before I heard another PAP, I heard SNAP. The damn top of the gate gave way. I just knew that I was falling in slow motion. Slow motion in your mind doesn't mean a damn thing when in reality, you are traveling downward at a speed that would break records. BLAMMMMMMM!!!!! I hit the ground wit the same tenacity that Mike Tyson used to knock out Trevor Berbick. This would not have been so bad if this spot was used to cast away broken bottles, cans, feces, and piss. I mean this was a kid hangout during the day, but at night the freaks came out. Like fat angel's momma, angel senior. I think I laid on the ground for a good 7.6 minutes before I cried like a baby. Or should I say, screamed like I was being attacked by African killer bees. And why the expletive are they called "African"?

I immediately wanted to do some bodily harm to fat angel, because if he would have just wilted to the genius that is me, I would not be in such a situation. Yes I climbed the fence on my own free will, but why didn't he follow me? If he did, we would have fallen at the same time, and then it would be a possibility that I would land on him, thus creating a some sort of pillow or something to land on. What a selfish bastard I though to myself. He even had the ordasity to ask me for my Now & Later's candy, I guess he figured I would not be eating solids for a while, since he saw my face. He helped me up as I was screaming walked with me around to the front of the apartment building. With what I am sure was blood running down my face, I screamed all the way up the stairs to my 3rd floor apartment. The cuts in my grill were stinging in the worse way. I could feel the glass on the left side of my face, and the salty sweat just was pouring in. while banging on the door, I looked back and saw the blood trail that I left. Even though I was still crying, I couldn't help but to think how cool that shit looked. My mother finally opened the door, after finally turning down the teddy Pendergrass she played religiously. She looked at me in horror and said "what the hell were you doing?" teddy was still playing in the back softly, very soft in fact. So soft that I stopped hearing it. "KERPLUNK" is that sound that I am sure I made when I passed out. As it turns out, the long blood trail that I left apparently was not as cool as I initially thought.

So, I wake up in a bed in the children's hospital. Now that I think of it, I thought about what the possibility is that I did not pass out, but my mother knocked me out for being a stupid kid. In any event, I ended up in the place that I needed to be in. My face was still stinging, and from the bandages all around my head, I thought something went down during my nap. My mother was there, and she told me that I needed about 50 stitches or something like that. Now I was afraid of needles at the time, but to add "thread" into it the equation is just too much for me. I really didn't want my mother to leave, but she had to. That teddy Pendergrass album jut came out, and she had to give it a listen to.

After she left the boy in the next bed started asking some dumb ass questions, you know the kind, the non genius questions that I am so easily irked at. "Is that your mother?" Now, if I hadn't said "ma" I could see this as a valid question. But I said that over and over. I should have known right there that this guy would lead me into the depths of near deathism. I forgot his name, or maybe I didn't even care to ask what it was. He seemed like his nose was full of boogers, and he gargled with sand when he talked. He looked like the type of kid that would steal bubble gum out of the supermarket, and chew it feverously, and swallow it when he thought the gig was up. He just seemed so criminal to me for some reason. "Is your mommy coming back?" he asked. "No", I replied. No, no she wasn't I thought, and I immediately began to tear up a little bit. I mean damn, my mother left me alone in the hospital at night with this pre-criminal heavy breathing non common sense question asking (expletive). Instead of leaving the hospital, and running to my grandmother's house, which was only a block away, I stayed; this dude had some cookies.



"Wh, wh, why you in here" he asked, annoying me again. I guess the bandages on my face wasn't a big enough clue. "I fell through a fence", I said. "Damn!!!" he said. O.K. this nigga is nothing but trouble. That is it, he just cursed and he is not even 10 yet, the official age in the hood to use whatever foul language you can think of when not in the presence of adults. I looked to where my clothes were, but I would have bounced in the open back gown I was given to wear. This hard breathing sailor mouthed kid wouldn't be the end of me, No Sir. When trying to move, my body hurt like no one's business. I guess it wasn't just the face that was damaged, because everything seemed to be in pain. "So, how did you fall through a fence?" he asked. Shockingly, this was a valid question, and I was not going to tell him all the gritty details. "Let me get a cookie, and I will tell you what happened" I told him. Now I was going to have to get up regardless now. There wasn't any way that I was going to let him give me one of those cookies. I don't know where his hands have been. Yes, even as a kid, I was smart enough to know when not to eat something from someone else. His hands may have been boogery, so I would have to get out of the bed to get them myself. So I fashioned my self off of the bed, however I guess I didn't realize that I had a needle in my hand. The I.V. pulled out when I tried to walk over to the other bed. The IV pulled out of my hand, and the thing that held the bag fell over. This was the incident that made the nurses work feverously to get me released from the hospital. Instead of covering for me, this sob rang the nurses bell.

The way the nurse looked at me and talked to me the previous night, I was surprised I didn't wake up handcuffed to the bed. She must have known I would have escaped. So, here goes my second day in the children's hospital. My face is still hurting like no one's business. And as I look over, the cookie booger dude isn't in his bed. "Great", I thought. He must have been released before I woke up. The room, I would finally have to myself. There was a lot of ruckus in the hall, but I didn't care to much to find out what it was. Then low and behold, what do I see? The dude flies past the room riding on the I.V. stand. "WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAA", I heard, and then a crash and boom, and then an "Oh Shit" and then it seemed like a gang of kids laughing. this dude was an idiot. to be continued....

I need a nap and some happy pills.

I am bored out of my damned mind today. The most I have done is walked around. I haven’t even drank today, I am that bored. Now, that’s saying something. I think what I am supposed to be doing is writing everyday. I heard from my ex today. We had a falling out a long time ago, but as usual. It never becomes a long lasting beef. I got my phone turned on and surprisingly, it was her. I don’t mean to gloat, but she is in an even more shittier relationship then ours was. Pretty funny stuff. Sometimes they always come back in some way. We had a discussion about my favorite subject. Relationships, and why are they even legal. If it was up to me, women and men would just sign a contract to be together for a year, and at the end of the year you can choose to extend it or not. There would be certain clauses of course. Like, felatio in the morning. No nagging as soon as I get home. When a certain look is used upon you, it is required that she shuts the fuck up. Don’t want to sound harsh, but, that’s what we are thinking half the times. So my ex says to me that she was livid after we broke up, because I jumped into something very soon after. So in her mind she figured that I was already talking to someone romantically. I could understand why she would be pissed because basically, I was, and I denied it. And she, a sag like me is crazy sensitive, and can sense things a mile away. Matter of fact, she is still mad at that. Its been over 3 years almost. She was even more upset because I kept trying to say that, that was not the case. You can just tell when someone is lying to you. At least I can. She blurts out, “so, you were already fucking her?” I wasn’t, but I know I was going too. She ended up not even being worth it. Blahhh. But I will call her on a lonely drunk ass night. I am so bored and tired. You ever meet anyone that justs over emphasizes things so that it sounds believable, to you and themselves? This was us. We always talk about making the perfect movie together, making the perfect romantic script. We are just either too lazy, or too unfocused to complete it. We have come up with a few titles though; “You lying sack of shit!!” was one, but I don’t think that people that have a problem with bowel movements would support it. Or, “Stalk the one your with”, my personal favorite. You know how many times I went to ole girl’s house, expecting some dude to be there, only to have her narcoleptic ass answer the door finally talking about, “I’m glad I know how to push your buttons”. Wait, Im going to stop writing now, call her up and curse her out. Its therapeutic.