I hug the block like I'm lonely...

Yeah, so I got a call about a job possibility today; that is the ONLY reason I'm here on the computer right now...tweeking my resume' so I can have greenbacks like a Celtic...I wish I was a rapper sometimes...

I think I could pull it off, I mean, after all...people think this dude is an amazing artist:

Which brings me to something I've been talking to my homeboy about...I can't say this was my idea, but it was interesting...Why can't you tell people that they are wack anymore? Every time you tell someone that something they did is wack, they say you are hating...but I'm not, you just suck! Does anyone know what I'm talking about? I mean, how far is it gonna go?

P1: Man, you got a booger in your nose.

P2: Aww, you Hatin'!

P1:You smell kinda like warm mustard...

P2: You just hatin' on my new Cologne ni&&@, its from the Heinz Collection...

Where does hating stop and reality begin.

In closing,

What you know about Perfect Strangers?

I stay with that Larry Appleton swag...I'm talking old school, when he worked at Ritz Discount...

As always,

Be Safe or Be Smitten!

Love Hater

Hater of Love...not really, but I'm listening to that song on the Love Below...great CD.

Since I couldn't think of a good title for this, I'm just gonna write it:

So I have this thing about writing...I mean, I enjoy it, but only on my own terms. I use to write poetry, but most cats didn't get it. It wasn't about doing the horizontal polka, and it wasn't about supreme mathematics, or the great oppression of the negro race...it was about life, and ignorant ni&&@s... and since I'm a fan of literary devices, my poetry is overloaded with them...

I said that to say this. I really don't like poetry much anymore. It bores me. Is that wrong? Now, to make sure that no one mistakes me for a 15th century monarch, WRITING poetry bores me. I liked writing using the classic rules of poetry...people now just say stuff that rhymes, and it sounds like Dr. Seuss after happy hour.

Now, also, I'm not hating. There ARE good poets out there, but locally, in my crappy little town, they are few and far between. I mean, I love sex...I really do, and most aspects of it I am quite fond of. If I could take classes to advance myself, I would be working on my third PhD...but just because I'm in the Orgasm Fan Club, that doesn't mean I want to hear you molest my aural senses with your verbal wet dream. There is this reoccurring poet that comes to my town and does this poem...I swear it's 30 minutes long...all about giving oral to some chick. I kinda know who inspired the poem, which doesn't help my disdain for it, but it is really overkill. Maybe I don't want to hear it because I'm hating, which I'm not...maybe I don't want to hear it because it's too long...maybe I don't want to hear it because I don't have a vagina...not sure. I mean, like I said earlier...the actions the poem discusses are nice, but I don't want to hear it every week...for 30 minutes.

I also don't want to hear how crappy your life is, and if you must tell me, be creative. Pick up a thesaurus. Be clever. Be witty. Paint your pain with a stroke of genius. Just don't say stuff like this:

My life sucks...

I feel more pointless than a rubber duck.

I don't have any money...WTF

I'm down on my luck,

I feel like I'm stuck.

If I fall in a pit, I'll be covered in muck.

...that's about how the stuff is...the epitome of imbecility...the duke of drivel, prince of poppycock...do you get my point?

So you may feel that because I don't write anymore, I can't have anything to say...if you feel that way, you can sift through your life and see if you can sympathize with anything other than your own ambitions...

I'll leave you with one of my favorite statements:

It's always better to be clever than intelligent. Being an intellect, you only rely on what you have already come to know; but by being a clever man, you subject yourself to new ideas and theories, and by doing so, you'll be able to figure out any situation.

-Me

Yeah, that's mine. I hope if someone does steal it, they are able to use it effectively.

Be Safe or Be Smitten!

The Life of a Faux Tastemaker...

Yeah, so being unemployed has made me pretend to be a taste maker...if you aren't sure what that is...Google is your friend. Anyway, my homeboy has been a fan of not matching for years...so I'm starting to experiment with it as well...it's weird, but sometimes it works...and the more I read my GQs, they feel that not matching is good too; almost to the effect of looking like a color-blind test, but who's passing judgement?

I can hear him now..."That goes hard!" Yeah, I guess it could...green and tan...like a leprechaun on the Sunset Strip...

In other news:

I think this is my last call for alcohol...I've been going too hard on the Everclear, and that f-ed my tolerance for a regular drink...which ruins the fun. Now if one of my homeboys is reading this...the reason I'm not buying anymore for home is because I don't want the guilt of letting people drive home off of my bottled spirits...if you are staying the night, I don't mind as much...but driving home afterward, that's not my bag. I don't want that on me...

"Don't put that on me Ricky Bobby!!!"

Shake and Bake!!

Don't you wonder if the addition of more than one exclamation point is suppose to increase the volume of written text? Or if there is more than one question mark, does that mean you know even less??? How many question marks does it take to make you completely retarded??????? Not sure if there is an answer for that one...but one none the less would be interesting. There is one thing I'm sure people notice whenever they read what I write on my blog...why the hell are there all those ellipsis in his text?? For those who don't know, there is Google, but they are the (...) that are always litter my laments. To answer the question I posed on myself, the reason is...that's the way people talk. They don't stop every sentence with a period; usually it's just a brief pause. Think about it...people don't talk like this: "Me and my friends went out yesterday. It was so fun. I really enjoyed myself. Enter lame short sentence here." The periods ruin the flow...even though that last statement is true, doesn't that still sound like a lost bar from the Golden Age of Rawkus records?

That's it for now...be back soon!

Be Safe or Be Smitten!!

Quarterlife Crisis

...the ongoing saga:

I'm need balance in my life right now...and usually I try to do that by buying sneakers and wooing women; neither of which I'm able to do with restricted funds. I'm not really sure what to do...being jobless with NO unemployment makes you feel like there is no way out. I'm not depressed...yet. Hopefully I won't be, but it's hard not to be. If there isn't something that pans out by next week...I may do it the ski-mask way.

Yeah..what an image right? Hippie thug swag.

Be Safe or Be Smitten!

Get Silly

Are you serious? How is this a song? How is this a video? The bad part about it is...this song is so bad that I can't find a picture of this fool to clown...but I'd do the same thing if I could cash that check...




Be Safe or Be Smitten!

And the World keeps spinning...

Am I scared...sure. I don't have a job, and my unemployment was denied...but hopefully I won't need it. I keep applying to places online, but nothing has quite panned out after all the interviews. I wish I was still working, but I did hate my job. Maybe this will all work out for the best...lets hope so.



BTW: My two friends are "cool" again, I think...the jury's still out on that one.

Are you really?

So I went out last night...on a Monday. I thought it could be fun; but the fun I had was wondering what my apartment was doing while I was sipping my Stoli and Sprite...don't get me wrong, there was a decent crowd...but all industry cats. You know? "I have an agenda, and you aren't included in it; but please buy my album when it comes out on the 12th of Never." Yeah. Wack...


In other news:


I need a job.



Well, I'll post later.


Be Safe or Be Smitten.

Well...I don't have a job

...so I went to the club. Makes sense right? Not really, I know...but here are some pics anyway. I didn't even get drunk...only had like, three or four drinks. My homeboy Jon Concert put on one hell of a show, and I met a dope chick there with her angry friend. Here are the pics finally. I'll recap after I part the clouds of depression.




Yeah, so this is part of the sound check...I think he was living his dream as a band conductor...Cab Calloway he is not.


Honestly, one of this cat's best skills, but least actually used.



Waiting...and watching wack dancing.


Looking to have that GQ shot...not sure if it came through.



Part of the actual performance. Really, really hot show...I just wish more people were there.




Honestly, I think my friend thinks that he is Lupe Fiasco...can you not see it?





...and this was one of the promoters; one of the few chicks there that would actually talk to someone else besides the friends she came there with.




All in all, a good night. Could it have been better? Sure. I'll just have to see what happens next time out.


Until then,


Be Safe or Be Smitten!

Last time today, I promise

I don't know if maybe I have a lot to say today, or if I have just been holding all this stuff in, but I can tell you what, this whole purging business is making me feel some better.

I think that personally, I need to find out what I actually like about myself. I mean, I don't NOT like myself, no self-loathing found here...but I don't think that I value what I have and what I can do. I can count lots of values and skills that I have that no one else has around me...I dunno. I guess I've focused so much on not thinking about my good qualities, and just focusing on the bad that has made me not appreciate myself as much as I should. I'm not saying I'm gonna hang posters of myself around my apartment, but I need to realize that I'm not a fuck-up, I'm not a bad guy, I may be harsh with those I care about, but it's because I don't want to see them have pain in the future. I need to realize this before I bind my life with another; whether it's a wife, a child...or both. I need to be able to give positive reinforcement...and I think I don't give it because it is so rarely given to me. I mean, when people tell me something nice about myself, I don't even know how to take it or what to say in response. Is that odd?

I know there isn't really anyone out there that reads this thing...but I wish someone would tell me that I'm not overanalyizing this, and that other people feel or have felt this way in times past. Just like I want to know that my yearning for a spouse isn't nuts...and it's ok to want one. I mean, honestly...if I was able to buy one, I would. Like if it were a shoe or something, not a mail-order bride...I don't want that type of commitment.

It's just hard: and people don't give life the respect that it is due. You have to live it until your life is over...you deal with it everyday. Your existence is intertwined with others...so you are important to someone. It's just that sometimes you want that someone to be your someone...even if they are the wrong one. These self-help books don't work; and half the time I bet their lives aren't a walk in the park either. I just want to be honest, love, live, and enjoy. Nothing in that statement is vain...nothing in that statement is selfish...I just need to keep going and hopefully things will fall into place like Connect Four.


Be Safe or Be Forgotten.

Don't know about this one...

But I think I'm gonna stop having sex for a while. I mean, I can handle ONS anymore, (that's One Night Stand for those who aren't acronym friendly). I physically throw up just thinking about doing that again. I don't know anyone that I want to have a real relationship with right now...I mean, I know plenty of women; but there is only one person that I'd do that with, and they aren't in state...

Anyway, if she moves, or if I move, then maybe I won't keep this up...but chances are, since no one is on the horizon, I'm gonna stop doing the nasty...but I'll tell you one thing...it will surely be missed.

Typical white woman

I'm going to apologize up front for this post: If you are white, and a woman, and you are easily offended, please don't read the rest of this post.



Don't say I didn't warn you...



Now, I'm going to say this upfront; I'm not racist. And honestly, if I had've been treated like this by anyone else, I'd say this is just a woman thing, instead of a white woman thing. I mean, I've had two different white woman relationships in the past 20 months...well, one was a "relationship" the other wasn't suppose to be...


Now, with the chicks before, I "changed" their names...this time I really just don't give a fuck...

Jenn, with two nn's...She was ok, at first. I mean, hotel stays, great gifts, and the sex was pretty good too...so what was the problem? In the back of her head, she was waiting on some alcoholic fuck to "clean up"...when he sobered up for 3 months after 7 years of her begging him to change his life, she runs to him...so am I mad, yes. I mean, I had it all: I had the freedom to do what I wanted to do, she gave amazing gifts, and she gave it up on the regular...I mean, I wasn't emotionally invested anymore, so I really just liked the sex and the stuff...I mean, she was someone I could go do things with. It was beyond dating; you can't take a date on the stuff I like to do, because when you do, they like you to quickly. So yeah, I was frustrated...so I got someone for a rebound.

Kimberly, Kim...Special K

She was a nice piece of ass. Point blank. Maybe a movie, maybe dinner, always sex. One time, it was so good to me, I bought her some Jordan's. Jordan's people. That's grade A vag...


So what happened to that? She was confused with what our relationship entailed, talked about securing her life with someone, and I was just trying to secure a Friday Booty Night...I don't think she got it. I mean, she tried to be a friend, and I'm like, what's the point? All we did was bone and go places...and honestly, if I could've gotten away with it, I would've just had sex, and sent her on her way...then I would've gone out with my friends afterward.


So why am I pointing the blame to white women specifically? Because they seem to process information differently. I mean, I would say something like, "I don't like raisins." ...you know what they'd do? Buy me a box of raisins...the economy size from Sam's Club. Now I don't mean this literally, but it's just a simple example without me rehashing the issue...

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there are white women that give a shit about someone other than themselves; especially when what is wanted is stated in the beginning. The thing is, I'm not sure that I'll be able to give them a chance...now this doesn't mean I won't ever have sex with another white woman, it just means that right now, I don't know that I can fully trust another white woman...maybe it was because I WAS emotionally attached to the first one...because right now, I really wish she'd take herself, her family, and her alcoholic wonder, and play twister on hot lava...is that mean?

If it is, I don't care. It's still not as bad as she made me feel.

Be Safe or Be Deceased...

Can't Tell me Nothin'

I'm not really sure what I want to say today...I don't want to complain, but it seems that lately, all I have to talk about is club night and sneakers. Life really does contain much more, especially much more things of substance. It's filled with people, places, and experiences. Emotions, movement, creativity. So why do I not talk about these things? For the most part, I feel like people don't care about those things anymore.

I could use this blog as a debate forum...I mean, people debate on things for hours, but does that matter? No. At the end of the day, that person isn't going to change their mind until it affects their life so drastically that they need to do something in order to sustain sanity. I could tell someone for 12 hours straight that smoking crack isn't the way to go,

but until they feel it's not something to throw into the routine...they won't stop. I could tell my true thoughts and emotions...but who is going to respond? No one. People don't really care about you. Of course I'm speaking in generalities...everyone has someone, and if they don't, they become serial killers.

But yeah, I don't want to tell people that my adulthood scares me...that these decisions I make now are going to mold the rest of my existence...who wants to talk about that? I mean, I think about that everyday...EVERY FREAKING DAY!!! It's tough. Especially when you don't want to stand out much, but everyone else feels like you should. You know what I want? I want to invent something so good, that everyone uses it, but no one knows who made it.

I don't want to be Ron Popeil,

I don't want to be the Oxyclean guy

or this nut either

...I want to be unidentifiable man...the guy who has money, lots of money, and no one really knows why...except for the IRS...

they are the only ones that need to know. So what am I doing to get that? Not much. I sketch, and I think...but that's about it. Most of the things I thought of are good, but not an "I can't live without this!" type of deal. Maybe I want to much...but I dunno.

So what do I REALLY want? A family, and the income to support one comfortably. So that leads directly back to what I talk about...shoes and going out. Because chicks dig shoes, and I have to be out for them to see them. And why do I like women so much? Because they are the only avenue that I have to get a family of my own; at least in the traditional sense. ...so I know what you are thinking: "Why is he at the club? He should find a nice church girl!"

Well, I hate to break it to you, but church girls are full of shit. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are SOME good ones, but usually they know they are, and they are harder to deal with than a fat man at the discount Hostess store with his overtime check.

At least at the club, you know what that chick is about. Either she is there for money, sex, fun, or a relationship. And if you find the latter, as long as you aren't an ass, she is impressed. So, that's it for today...even though I do feel more to say coming up...and when it does, I'll re post!

Be Safe or Be Smitten!

It's been a long time...Since I left you, without a dope beat to step to....

Good morning America, good morning to Erica, who gave me good head while watching Good Morning America...



Enough of that...so the last time I was at the club...I swear I had a great time. It wasn't the birthday party, but just a totally separate bottle poppin' adventure. The club was packed, I was on stage in VIP like normal...dressed to impress but not too excess...and I didn't even get drunk! This I'll tell you though, I danced like my name was Mikhail Baryshnikov.

...but that isn't the funny part; the funny part about my dancing was my dance partner: she had to be 6'3", easy. Like I was dancing with Cheryl Miller .

Yeah, it was that bad...she kept trying to spin on me, and last time I checked, my arms weren't long enough for that...not with a chick tall enough to play point guard for the Celtics. It was fun though...I'm just worried that I'm becoming an alcoholic. I mean, I don't drink everyday, but when I go out to the club, I do enjoy myself...maybe 4 drinks or so...and a few bottles of Champagne...so I dunno... I LOVE LAMBIC!!!

As a BTW:

I had a Friday night fling set up...like a regular, you know? So, that's been cancelled now...I guess that's good, but I find myself getting upset about it. I mean, I know I didn't love her, but I MISS her...not the sex so to speak, (even though I do miss that), I just miss the body in my bed. That's rough...and I know I can't go out and do this again, because the guilt of tie less sex is wearing on me. Every time I TRIED to have a ONS, I threw up...violently. I mean, I didn't even get to enjoy the fruits...I just had the repercussions...it sucked. So I guess I'm gonna be single again...and I doubt if I start up the hunt. It's getting too easy to get what I want, so I just wanna focus on myself for a bit, and see what comes across my path. So we'll see what the future holds...