Thursday, December 31, 2009

2009-A Thug Rock Review

In these last few hours of this decade, I've reflected on where I am, where I've been, the people I've come across, and some of the things that have happened. I gotta say, 2009 was like no other year in this decade. Was it the most eventful, maybe. 2001 might have something to say about that. 9/11 makes a pretty convincing case with that event alone, plus the tragic loss of Aaliyah.

But, let's take a quick look at the past year.

The first black President Of The United States was inaugurated. Barack Obama deservedly accomplished something that most of us thought we'd never see in our lifetimes. Never had there been so much emotion behind a politician or election. President Obama represents hope for this country. Not just African-Americans, but the country as a whole. Give him time. The U.S. didn't get fucked up in a single term. It took Baby Bush 8 years to do that. It's only fair we give our President at least one term to turn it around.

Sports was more exciting than in recent years. The Pittsburgh Steelers won an unprecedented sixth Super Bowl championship. (I need my Eagles to get one before I die) The Los Angeles Lakers returned to glory, winning their 15th NBA World Championship. They need one more to tie the Boston Celtics for the most. They may just get it, this year. Also returning to their rightful place as a dynasty, was the New York Yankees. They dispatched my Phillies to win their 27th World Series, by far the most in baseball. Can't wait to see who gets crowned, this year.

We lost many celebrities in 2009. Least of which was The King Of Pop, Michael Jackson. This writer was inspired to write an emotional tribute, which can still be found in this blog's archives. "Requiem For A Fallen King" is available for your review. However, please don't forget the men and women of our Armed Forces, that lost their lives defending ours. As a former member of the military, this subject is close to me.

Personally, it was a busy year for me, as well. Personal highs and lows, as well as professional. We all had them, I'm pretty sure. Hopefully, there will more highs for all of us in the coming 365 days. Blessings to all. Much love to those who follow me on Twitter, and who follow this blog. I am eternally grateful for your support in everything I've tried to do. Blessings to all for 2009 and beyond...


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Crazy Nights

This is what the Thursday Night Fuckery that you've heard so much about, looks like. If you don't know, I host at a place called Blurr Bistro & Ultra Lounge, on Thursday nights. As we all know, alcohol and outgoing people make for great times. I make sure I ahve some type of camera on hand to record the fun. Here are some samples...

Lovely young lady on the set...

How I gets down...

They get it in, courtesy of me & my DJ, Mark Anthony...

This is how it goes down each and every Thursday night, at Blurr. If you're in the area, come on through. I might even buy you a drank.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

My Most Embarrassing Moment (Sort Of)

Everybody has one of these stories to tell. So, before you sit there, reading, and pass judgment, be prepared to bare your own soul. If not, miss me with the slick talk...

It was my senior year in high school. I had become one of the top sprinters in Burlington County, NJ, that year. One of our biggest rivals was Kennedy High, in Willingboro, NJ. This is the same town that Carl Lewis had the beginnings to his legendary Track & Field career. In fact, his father, who has since passed away, was at the meet.

The day started off pretty good as I competed in the High Jump. This was my first year in this event. I was one of the few cats in my school that could dunk on a regulation basket consistently. One of the coaches saw it, and before you know it, the local papers were saying I was leading the high jump for our team. Riiight.

Now, did I have "hops?" Absolutely! 2-handed monster dunks and reverses were almost effortless for me. But...that doesn't necessarily translate to high-jump success. Long story short, because I'm digressing... Carl Lewis' dad told me I had the most spring he had seen in high-jumper, but I needed work on my technique. Understatement on a very high level, but it amped me up.

Onto "my" event: the 200-meters. Perfect race for me because I didn't have a great start, but my recovery speed was on point. I won most of my races coming from behind. *pause* The gun goes off. After 10 meters, I have 2 runners in front of me. I'm not too worried because I know my closing speed, and I hadn't hit the after-burners yet.

We come off the curve, fairly close. I'm just about to shift into that extra gear, when I feel something isn't right. Not pain, but something just doesn't feel right. AW DAMN! My one-eyed man decides to make an appearance, slapping against my damned leg! Kennedy and Willingboro High Schools were known for having a shitload of honeys. FOINE ones too. At this very moment, it seemed like every single fine female in that town was on that fence, watching me... FML moment.

So, I did what any red-blooded teenage boy in that situation would do: I stopped, placed the offending appendage back in it's proper shelter, and walked across the finish line. Hell, I was last anyway. But...and this is important, none of those chicks had "small penis" jokes. In fact, we could say I was made to feel better about the occurence, later that weekend.

I ended up going to the States, that year. I finished 5th in the 200. Not what I wanted, but respectable. I'd like to hear from you guys about YOUR embarrassing experiences...

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Abuse: What To Do???

First, let me apologize for not posting anything lately. I appreciate any of my readers that are still hanging in there with me. The fact of it is, I can't post a blog for the sake of posting one. It has to mean something to me. I feel like it's the realness and passion of what I write that you guys dig. So, finally somebody gave me an idea that meant something to me.

What do you do, as a man, when you know a another man is physically abusing his woman? What should you do?

I actually had this situation not long ago. My next door neighbors were a young, married couple. I became pretty cool with the husband, as well as the wife. On the surface, it seemed that they were happy. The wife, whom I'll call "Alana", had a child from a previous relationship. But, the husband, whom I'll call "Chuck", had a great relationship with the child to the point where the child called him "Daddy."

Chuck seemed laid-back and confident, in the fact that he had a beautiful family. They had just moved into the area. Alana found a job pretty quickly. Chuck wasn't quite as motivated. He had a little too much love for weed and liquor. Alana was patient with him, though. She allowed him to enjoy Hennessy and kush-filled evenings with his weed-smoking friends, as long as she knew he was seeking gainful employ.

However, as days became weeks, and weeks became months, being the sole provider and playing "Supermom" began to get old, for Alana. She began to voice her displeasure. Chuck, being a former drug-dealer that kept money, began to get in his feelings with his pride. After a while, my girlfriend at the time, began to tell me about hearing commotion through the somewhat thin walls that divided our two dwellings. Still, when we saw them, they put on the happy faces.

Very early, one morning, I leave my home to find Chuck sitting on the hallway stairs. This was not really unusual. But, the vibe he had about him was. He gave me a look, and shook his head.

Me: What's wrong, my dude?
Him: just went DOWN.
Me: The fuck you talkin' bout, son???
Him: Alana just tried to cut me with a knife...
Me: Get the fuck outta here! Why?
Him: We were arguing and she just flipped on me.

Now, your dude is not a fool. I'd known there were tussles between them previously. Plus, I know that 9 times out of 10, a woman is not going to try to slice a dude, unless she feels she has to protect herself. Basically, he confirmed what we had all suspected.

So, now he's given me the information. What do I do? Do I not get involved and take a chance that not just Alana, but both of them risk injury or death, if this continues? Or, do I say something with the risk that both of them may turn on me, as can happen in a lot of domestic violence situations?

It's a tough choice. If you've ever been in this situation, you understand what I'm talking about. I chose the latter, as I took a calculated risk that Chuck trusted me, as a sort of mentor.

Me: Dude, you know I heard y'all the other night, right?
Him: Man, I just couldn't take her swinging on me anymore...
Me: Yeah, but you can't do that, bruh. Take a walk. That's what I do when mine grinds my gears.
Him: Yeah, I guess you right. I'mma have to try that.

Of course, it didn't work. To Alana's credit, she did take her daughter and leave Chuck, for a short time. When she did come back, Chuck was treated like a guest in the house. Seemed like he learned his lesson. He even found a pretty good paying job.

But, the peace in the house only lasted a short while. After, I left the complex, due to my own relationship breaking up, I found out Chuck reverted back to his old ways. He left the area completely, not long ago. But, I often wonder what choice I would have had to make, if the situation had escalated to where I was forced to act.

Glad I never had to choose... But, what would you do? Before you answer that, you need to think it all the way through. Think of all the possible ramifications... legal and otherwise. Love to hear your thoughts!

Monday, September 14, 2009

Twitter Haters?

Evidently, my exploits on Twitter are being talked about at my place of work... Don't worry. It's nothing that can adversely affect my job, or my status at my place of employment. It's just simply annoying.

There are about 3 people at my job that follow me on Twitter...that I know of. Chances are, one of them has been talking about the ol' ThugRocker™. This morning, I was asked, in somewhat of a sarcastic fashion, "You sho' be on that innanet, don't you?"

Me: Yeah, I do some stuff on the computer. Why?

Them: You be twitterin' from yo phone and errythang.

Me: (After blank stare) OK....

Them: *snickering*

I laughed a little as I walked off from them. I don't know if I'm getting old, or what the deal is. But, where I come from, this would be classified as a case of Dick-Riding. (See previous post)
This would get chicks cursed out, and get dudes' asses WHUPPED. I'm having a problem with the proliferation of dudes in this area (VA) checking out, and making catty comments about other dudes!!! Shit blows my mind. They are worse than chicks sometimes...

My question is, why the BLUE FUCK do you have an issue with what I do with my free time. I'm a grown ass man, dawg. I give less than 2 drops of pigeon piss what you do, when you're on your own time.

One dude even said, "I heard you a cyberthug, or somethin' like that." Really!? Now this is the same cat we called out for saying he remembers "Sanford & Son" and Lamont's pants being so tight, he could "see his meat." Pause Police would have sentenced this "dude" to death by sex change. But, being a leader...I can't say things like that, on the job. I did remind him though..."Bruh, don't let this title and this light-skin fool you. You are really about to play yourself." Then, he started laughing and saying I couldn't take a joke. Y'all know me by now...In my mind, I said "Fuck it."

Me: You's enough of a chore for me to have walk around with all of this dick. But, now I gotta carry your dead-ass weight on it too? Fuck outta here with that bullshit."

I just will never understand why people have to try to down other people, thinking it will make them seem like a better person. I told the people in both instances the same thing I have said in some of my rants on Twitter... "Get your self-esteem weight up, son. But, thank you for keeping me on your minds and in your mouths. Take that how you will."

Remember, people. It is annoying, at first. But, when you get down to it, it is the ultimate compliment. If you weren't doing shit, nobody would think twice about you.

As those motherfuckers found out...


Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Jockin' 101

I understand that a lot of times, my logic is not in line with everyone else's. Even if it is, most of you don't vocalize it. In other words, sometimes I say what you guys are thinking. So, once again the fuckery that is Twitter, has sparked the synapses in this brain...

dick riding (definition)
Sucking up to; to be someone's bitch or make yourself look inferior to someone, just to earn their respect or get something tangible in return.

1: That guy was totally 'dick riding' that rapper because he was hoping to get noticed. 2: That lady is a total 'dick rider', every time she sees someone with a hunk of cash she'll try to sleep with them.
-Courtesy of Urban Dictionary

I try to stay away from blogging about celebrities. God knows we have more than enough blogs about gossip. Plus, that ain't my style. "Requiem For A King" is about as close as I come. But, that was a chapter in our history. More of a tribute/eulogy, if you will.

As I go along on my Twitter journeys, I notice that part of the appeal that made Twitter the monster that it is, is that you can tweet to celebrities, athletes, models, and even porn stars.

What I notice, is that more often than not, celebrities rarely reply to "regular" people. But, when they do, they seem to be down-to-earth, and most times, pretty cool. I only tweet to celebs if they have said something interesting, and I have something relevant to add to it. This is the same approach I apply to everyone on Twitter.

I see a lot of people that get really upset, when celebs don't reply back. In a way, I can understand this. But, there's two sides to a coin...

Think about why they are called "celebrities." This means that they are very popular. Now, me...being just a regular dude, I have approximately 930 followers. I follow around 630. Sometimes my little timeline moves very fast. As a result, I don't see some tweets unless I go back into my @ replies. I try to answer anyone that tweets me. Every once in a while, I gotta dig pretty deep because someone got upset with me for not answering them. So, imagine someone with hundreds of thousands of @ replies to read and respond to...

However, I also feel like the celebrity has a responsibility to let their fans know they at least acknowledge their presence. Use a blanket tweet like, "I see my fans out there. I can't answer all of you right now, but I love you guys back." Something to that effect...

Now, here's the part where I might piss some people off...

Some of y'all take your adoration of these celebs a bit too far. We all want to be part of the "in crowd." Nobody wants to be an outcast. I have seen some straight bullshit on Twitter, when it comes to celebrity interaction. You don't need to re-tweet every response, if you are lucky enough to have a celeb reply to you. The rest of us are still not going to know who you are.

I've seen people respond to motivational blanket tweets, like the celeb in question was talking specifically to them. Really!? Is your need for validation that severe? I've seen people who write blogs claim that celebs wrote articles for them, when in reality, they copied and pasted the celeb's own blog entry. Plagiarism can be a pain in the ass, if you get caught...

Make your own way, people. Jockin' these celebs will you famous for nothing more than being a dick-rider. They didn't get famous for simply talking to another famous person. They displayed a talent, and people dug it. I don't think being "Net famous" on social networking sites pays very well. You'll need to find another way to supplement your income.

Don't hang with the "cool kids." BE the "cool kid" everyone wants to hang with.

This brings me to my next bone of contention: the people that THINK they're celebs. The bloggers and publicists and whoever's claim to fame is what they do on Twitter, Facebook, and MySpace.

You have some folks out there, claiming to be the King or Queen of their venue of choice. Really!? I tell you what... Come with me to where I hang out, and I'll make you feel like the Court Jester. Outside of us internet geeks (I mean that in the coolest way), nobody knows who you are. I've mentioned the so-called "pro" bloggers' names, and people were like, "who the hell is that???" Once again, I see people with low self-esteem, seeking to validate themselves.

I purposely left names out of this entry. But, if you think I'm talking about you, or your favorite blogger...I probably am. Feel free to let them know. Get at me, or have them do it. I don't care. I will tell them the same thing... "Get your self-esteem weight up, son."

Matter of fact, I may start going after these other bloggers. I think I've kind of proved myself, in the fact that I can hang with the "heavyweights." This may end up becoming the "blog other bloggers are afraid of." Might be time to make my move and slay the Kings/Queens...

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Night Out- a tale of erotica

Not even when you came out of your bedroom, in your new, sexy outfit, did I have thoughts of what would eventually go down. Sure, the silk sat on your curves, only the curves of a "sista." Of course, I had to be impressively handsome for you, in my silk button-down and crisp jeans. As we had dinner, I noticed how smoky your eyes were done, and how perfect your silky, black hair was laying on your shoulders. It framed your face like it was a Picasso. I tried, really tried not to let you catch me staring at your lips. But, they were full, smooth, and glowing from your expertly applied gloss. Thank goodness, we finished eating...

I'm glad you understood that I don't really like clubs. I knew you might dig this jazz lounge we were going to. As we drove, my peripheral caught a glimpse of thigh, peeking out from the slit in your dress. You didn't know, but that's why I concentrated on keeping my eyes on the road.

As we had drinks at our table, you laughed at my bad jokes, while I got lost in your smile and those cocoa brown eyes. I hung on your every word, if only because your voice was music to me...better than the works of Dizzy, Bird, and Marsalis wafting through the smoke and noise. All of those were rendered irrelevant by your presence.

I stood, and extended my hand. You gave me the sexiest, knowing smile I had seen in my life. The way your fingers interlocked with mine, gave me a clue that this may not be the typical dance. I made sure I didn't hold you too close at first, for fear of being too forward. But, as the horns and strings and keys caressed our ears and our spirits, we gravitated. You fit so well, as we pressed against each other. I'm sure you felt "me." Why did you have to wear a backless dress? Running my hand over the smooth skin almost got me high...

I barely noticed that the song was over. I looked in your eyes again, and my knees almost buckled from they way they looked at me. We danced more, and I was becoming addicted to having my arms around you. From the way you laid your head on my chest, it seemed you could get used to it, as well. I don't think we broke contact too much, the rest of the time...

Being the gentleman, I get you home at a decent hour. After saying our salutations, the awkward moment was upon us: the "goodnight kiss." wasn't awkward for us. Strangely, it felt very right. A peck on the lips quickly evolved into a deep, passionate wet union of our mouths. You pulled me into you so tight, as if we were going to melt into each other. I held you just as tight, as if this would be the last time I ever saw you. The feeling of your curves in my hands, and your heaving breasts pressing against me, put me in almost a frenzy!

We stumble inside the door, still holding onto each other for dear life, while tasting each other's lips, necks, and earlobes. You had a little trouble unbuttoning my shirt. So, me being the gentleman, I helped you rip it open. As I heard the "click-clack" of the buttons hitting the floor, I peeled your dress off your shoulders, and slid it down to the floor, making stops to taste your breasts, stomach and thighs, on the way down.

We were still somewhat sweaty from all the dancing. But, you still smelled so sweet. On the way back up, after you stepped out the pile that was your dress, my arms coiled around your thighs like pythons. I lifted you, and you wrapped your legs around my waist, while we kissed a primal, savage kiss. I laid you on the bed, and traced a map, between those round, firm breasts, down the middle of your stomach, and made a slight detour to enjoy the taste of your inner thigh. I then kissed and nibbled my way back up, and felt the humid heat of your womanhood against my face.

I savored the taste of you, exploring every fold and crevice, with my tongue. Your sweet-sounding gasps, and the arch in your back told me where I should focus on. And I did. My only goal in life, at that moment...was pleasing you. Your breathing got more shallow, as your hand gripped the top of my head. I could feel the tips of your nails as you struggled not to dig them into my scalp. All of a sudden my hearing was muffled. The squeezing of your thighs was so, that my ears were covered.

I felt your hands pull up on my shoulders. I didn't catch it at first. But, your whispers of "Please" let me know what to do. I kissed my way back up your moist body, and my manhood got a touch of your now-hot softness. I let the swollen head lay on your pearl and outer lips for a few seconds, feeling the slick wetness. But, not too long, for teasing you would be torturing myself.

We both let out a gasp and a moan, as I entered you. Slowly, and with care, I stroked in and out, while your hips reciprocated, in kind. We were dancing again, and were joined as one. Your moans and whispers in my ear, as well as feeling your breath from such, turned me on even more, and put me into overdrive.

I stopped and you wondered why. I want you on top, so I can feel every bit of the warm haven that had become "home" to my smooth shaft... We seamlessly rolled over, with no need for re-entry. Your full breasts swung to and fro, and I made a little game of trying to catch one with my mouth. I won, as you rose and descended on me. All of a sudden, I felt the beginnings of a pleasurable wave, growing in magnitude. I pulled you down, and gripped the back of your neck and one of those round, smooth buttocks. You held me so tight, and your nails buried themselves into the flesh on my shoulders as we erupted, like a volcano of ecstasy. At that moment, I felt a sensation of euphoria, as my endorphins flooded my brain.

We fell asleep in a sweaty heap, with me still inside of you. I woke up, a few hours later, and got a warm cloth and gently wiped you down, as I tasted those lips once more. Is this the last time? I don't know. But, for these few hours, everything was right in the world...

Saturday, August 15, 2009 for you.

I can't plan when I write. It just comes out of my brain, runs to my fingertips, and makes sparks on my keyboard... I was feeling poetic, so this is what the result is.

by ThugRockStar

I found a strand of your hair on my shirt today.
How do I know it's yours? No one else can get as close to me.
That single strand of dark, pretty hair inspires flashes in my mind
of your lovely ebony beautiful ways.

First thing I thought of was when we last embraced.
The way you just "fit" me, and I never felt more like your protector.
The way you laid your head on my chest,
made me want to protect you that much more.

I found one of your earrings on my sofa, the other day.
No, silly. I know you didn't leave it there on purpose.
You don't need to "mark your territory"
I'm yours only, at the end of the day.

First thing I thought of, was how you laid on me
while we watched that movie.
I didn't care that it was a "chick flick."
I was good with being you, me...we.

I found one of your blouses in my room, last night,
When I picked it up to fold it, the faint aroma of your perfume
made me have a vision of one night...
I was surprised you dug that "thing" we did...

It's amazing how the simplest things
make me think of you.

No one else can get as close to me.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Home Improvement For The Brothas: one Sista's perspective.

A while ago, I wrote "Home Improvement For The Sistas", a snapshot into what the sistas can do to help us men be better men. I anticipated resistance/rebuttal from the ladies. I was pleasantly surprised with praise and support. I did get requests for what the brothas can do to help the sistas help us. Ladies are complex creatures that I am still endeavoring to truly understand, so I went and got a female point of view. Ladies & Gents, I give you the sexy, HIGHLY intelligent (and my partner in cerebral assassination) Anette, also known as @HotSexyBiscuits, on Twitter. Check out some more of her outstanding posts at Take it away, Anette...

Segue to female voice...

Now my boy, ThugRock, gave some key points for the sistas to chew up and digest and apply to their lives in regards to the male perspective on relationships but I want to break a few down for the fellas, if ya’ll would allow me to massage your frontal lobes for a second. Is that alright? Ok then, here we go -

1. We can handle the truth, can YOU handle our response to it? Women can handle the truth just fine from the gate. If you tell us the deal from day one then allow US to decide if we want to take on the task of whatever your truth is ( 3 baby mamas, no job, live with your mama, no car, rap career hasn’t taken off yet and work at KFC, etc.) then you put the ball in our court. Sure, sure, if you lie this will prolong all the glorious sex you could have with her until she finds out the truth but in all honesty, the drama that will follow it will suck for both of you. You know you don’t really want to deal with the rain of phone calls, text messages and the other drama that comes with some women feeling betrayed because you didn’t come out with it in the beginning. You may act like it doesn’t bother you to keep sending the calls to voicemail and deleting texts but you know it does and so do we.There are some women who will say they are cool with the truth then flip later on. With women like that you have to watch for the signs: If she starts asking you questions about who you are with all the time, checking your cell phone call list or trying to hack your Myspace page password, chances are she ain’t cool with it at all. Women like that may say they are cool but in reality are thinking “Oh I can change him to my way of thinking, just give me time”. If you find out that is the case, SHUT IT DOWN. Period, no negotiations. You see the train wreck coming down the track, move out the way. So what the sex may be good, good sex is relative in that respect if you’ve already gone down that road but make the U turn quick before you’ve gone too far to prevent the drama. A real woman knows you can’t change a grown man, just as you can’t change a grown woman. If a woman knows what the deal is with you up front, it saves her time frominvesting feelings in you, gives us the proper perspective of what the relationship could really be (friends/lovers/booty call) and saves her $10 bucks on the gasoline she’d buy for setting your crib on fire when she finds out you lied to her. Just be open with it up front, if she isn’t interested, brush ya shoulders off and keep it moving. Help us help you.

2. You date women of other races because ‘you don't feel we are submissive enough, we have too much attitude and won’t be a freak in bedroom’. If you don’t get anything else I say get this: some black women are freaks in the bedroom to the RIGHT man. If she hasn’t been one to you, chances are you ARE NOT him. People have had misconceptions about this that go way back to slavery. A person’s melanin level or lack thereof has nothing to do with her attitude, her ability to listen to her man or if she’s down for whatever sexually. Sure there are some women who are just loud for no good reason, combative just for the sake of a good fight and just won’t do anything but be selfish sexually. This is only a small percentage of the women out there. Just because she doesn’t advertise how she is in the bedroom or at first seems to question what you are about and even may be a bit of a firecracker, if love happens, sometimes she will mellow out(at least towards you, anyway). You have to earn our respect to heed what you say, you have to show us you aren’t going to sail our relationship/family boat into the rocks. If you prove you are the head, we will take our place by your side, not behind you. We aren’t meant to just accept everything you say, you should respect a woman who will challenge how you view the world, you both can grow that way. You don’t make executive decisions in a relationship, you come to conclusions together. As far as the sex is concerned, again, all women are different regardless of color. If she feels a comfort level with you, this opens up the door to the things you can do. You must do what it takes to make that happen if that is what you desire. You can have the lady in public and the freak in the bedroom. There are more undercover freaks out there than you can even imagine. Act accordingly and you may find one.

3. We are independent women, however this does not mean we don’t want you. I love Ne Yo’s song 'Miss Independent' and you should too, if you take it for the real point behind it. We have our own money, jobs, homes and all that however all this means is that we don’t need you. This has nothing to do with us wanting a man. Now some women may take this out of context but I’m not talking to them right now, I’m talking to you. WANTING a man means you desire his companionship, his conversation, his insight, his strength, his heart and his love. NEEDING a man means you need his money, his credit, his car, his cash and all the material things he has. Sometimes it’s harder to get close to women who are fully self sufficient because we will throw you the side eye quick for the same reasons a successful man would: ‘what do you want, me or my money?’ Not all of us want to compete with you. We are just used to running the show in our families,especially if we are single moms. Give us the space to grow to trust you and in time we will allow you to be the head of the household if all is meant to be. Relationships are about knowing that both of us contribute certain things to the table. You have your role and we have ours. You may be the head but we are the backbone. Neither of us can survive without the other. Learning to be ‘We’ when you’ve been ‘Me’ for so long takes some time to adjust to. Bear with us.

4. Just because the last woman couldn’t see your potential doesn’t mean the next woman should have to pay for her lack of vision. Don’t assume that because your ex thought your dreams weren’t worth anything that all women are the same way and should be treated as such. We want to have your back and to be that ride or die chick you want us to be, however you have to show us that you are truly doing something with your potential. At some point you need to put your career as a rapper in the hobby section of your life (at least until it actually takes off) and get a day job to pay the bills. If you have been in the studio recording your demo for the past 10 years, we are going to look at you a little suspect. We look to you for security and if you keep jumping from career to career it makes us nervous that you can’t provide for the family as well as puts us in survival mode (i.e., Independent Woman flag alert). We don’t have a problem sacrificing for the family temporarily (we work while you go to school) so you can help provide a better future for us. If we feel like we are partners with you for a common goal for the greater good of the family, in lean times we’ll eat top ramen and hotdogs because we know at some point we’ll have steak and lobster. We have thoughts of you pulling a Waiting to Exhale on us (we sacrifice, you gain then leave us for another woman) however if you make it clear it’s all about you and her and your family, all will be well. Be realistic with your goals, let us see that you are working towards achieving them and we will be the Bonnie to your Clyde, no doubt.

We all know relationships are hard work but what we all must understand is that we are all molded by our past experiences. We’ve all had less than positive relationships and if we all wipe the slates clean, treat each person as an individual and not as a representative of their gender as a whole and not as someone who deserves to deal with our past baggage or clean up the last person’s mess, we would all fare much better. Instead of thinking outside the box, live life as if there is no box. She is an individual and so are you. We can only take responsibility for the mistakes we make as who we are and not for anyone elses.

"A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man should have to seek Him first to find her." Maya Angelou

Sunday, August 9, 2009


Now, y'all know I never, EVER post on the weekends. But, today warrants such a momentous occasion. I'm a supervisor at a retail distribution center. I was out sick yesterday. So, I go back today and realize I may be able to skate out early. Good start, right?

It turned sour in a hurry...

We have a meeting with our people, every morning, to give out the assignments, read off safety numbers, and any other pertinent info that our people can use. Usually, this goes off without a hitch, with me even injecting a little humor. Y'all know how I am.

Today, was VERY different. I was just about to part my lips to say, "Let's have a safe & productive day!", when one of my associates says loudly and sharply, "Can we go 'head and stretch, so I can get to work???" You think I went off? You do. It's OK, you've seen my rants on Twitter. But, no. I kept my cool, until after we stretched.

I approached the offender, discreetly to tell him I needed to see him for a sidebar discussion, as I knew something was going on with him. He's a great worker, so I was just gonna let him know that he could confide in me, if indeed he had a problem. As I approach, he gets loud AGAIN! "Can I talk to my dude, here? Back up off me!" REALLY!? Mind you, MY boss is standing no more than 15 feet away. Great support there, Boss... I've been in leadership positions most of my life, even as a kid. So, being the unflappable quarterback, again...I stayed calm and let him finish his little convo, while giving him the "you know it's about to go down, don't you" look.

I pull him to the side, and ask, "What's goin' on with you, brah? You're out of your character and in your feelings. This ain't you." He tells me he was "just ready to get to work" and didn't feel like all the info distributed, wasn't necessary. I told him it's not just for him, and that going forward, he's going to have problems, if he's going to act like that. I gave him more than a fair shot, right? So, he half-heartedly says he understands, and I turn him loose to go on about his work.

An hour later, I start to notice that 3 different times, this cat is stopped, talking to other associates. I approach again, and tell him, "Dude, I understood what you were saying about wanting to get to work. What I need you to help me understand is, how you gone get it done, when every time I look up, you're chillin'?" "I'm just talkin'. We all do a little bit of talkin'." Understandable. I don't crack the whip, like that. Usually, I don't have to. I got a great crew. Arguably, the best in the building. I reply, "You were the one that wanted so bad to get your work done that you felt like you had to be disrespectful. Remember, you ain't for all that talking..." Now, I probably shouldn't have said that, and just went on and hit him with paperwork. I know that's what a lot of you will say. But, even though my gears were grinding, something inside told me that wasn't going to solve the issue.

I go to lunch, so I can breathe and get right. Otherwise, we likely both lose our jobs today. In a recession, that wouldn't be a good look. I'm sitting outside, so I can vent, via Twitter. Dude walks up on me, and I continue tweeting. He says, "Man, I just wanna apologize. I know what I said was disrespectful. I got some things going on at home."

Me: "I accept that and appreciate the fact that you stepped to me, like a man, and accepted your responsibility in the matter." I continue tweeting.

Him: "I don't blame you, if you write me up."

Me: "Hey, you gotta eat that one, brah. You still good with me."

I don't know why, but a lot of cats wanted to talk slick today. I had to handle another supervisor, in a meeting. I tried to help this fool. I'll tell y'all about that one tomorrow, or Tuesday...

By the way, notice I kept the same song for this one...

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Cyber-Thuggin'...for WHAT???

It's no secret that this blog caters mainly to those with a Twitter account. Unless some of y'all have told others about it, Twitterers are the main ones who read my rantings. That's cool, because I value you guys as readers, and I value your feedback. So, what I post here comes as no surprise to you.

As you all know, a popular sport on Twitter is called "going in" on people. This consists of "clowning", or ridiculing another person. More often than not, this is done in a mean-spirited fashion. There are people who do this all day, EVERY day. What I need to understand is, what the objective is behind this. I'm asking, "What is your objective, as a result of choosing someone at random, and picking a virtual fight?" Someone, please help me with this...

I can think of a few theories as to the motivation of these "net bangers" or "cyber-thugs."

1. These people have been victimized, on the net, or in real life. They are determined that "nobody is gonna EVER mess with me again." My reply to this: Get your self-esteem weight up, son. Making others' internet experience miserable is STILL not going to improve the quality of your life. You have to do that for the real world.

2. They think that somehow, they're going to be "famous." I don't know of one celebrity that has gotten their foot in the door from sitting at a keyboard and taking shots, gossip bloggers notwithstanding. Even they do legwork and lots of research/fact-checking. So keep waiting for that Hollywood knock at your door...just don't hold your breath while waiting.

3. They simply have nothing else to offer. They don't know about anything relevant. They may be incapable of stimulating conversation. This is how they avoid being the virtual "wallflower." In my experience (coming up on 10 years) online, most of the people I've come across are very well-rounded. They can bring the funny AND flip it with a highly intellectual discussion. The "bangers" don't feel they are on that level. Hell, most of them can't spell worth a damn.

So, net-Bloods, net-Crips, or whatever net-set you're claiming...we see what it is with you. I see what it is. I've seen your weaknesses. You are just like the people you victimize. You're just like the majority of people online. You're creating an image, a persona. But, it's like any sport. There is always someone out there hungry for "the title." They're angrier, funnier, and just plain BETTER than you at net-banging.

It's only a matter of time before you take that huge "L." It happens to all of them. I just hope your ego can recover, when it happens...

Real talk, you hear these stories about people committing suicide after being "bullied" online. I pray that we won't need to have a "moment of tweet silence" for someone, all because you had to be the "King", "Queen", or "Champion" online.

Make sure you send me a pic of the check and/or the trophy you get for what you do...

"Go in" on me, if you must. Bring a lunch. It's gonna be a long day. You gotta bring ass to get ass... *Deuces*

Once again...


Friday, July 24, 2009

Internet Love: Is It Possible?

So, it's been a minute since my last post. I just can't write to be writing. I have to be inspired, so I can give you quality, as opposed to quantity. Anyway...I was inspired by a discussion on Twitter, the other night.

During the course of the usual late-night fuckery, the question came up of, "have you had, or would have sex with someone you met on Twitter?" This sparked a bit of a friendly, courteous debate. Those of us who know, know those are few and far between, on social networking sites.

Initially, most people's responses to the question, predictably, were ranging from "no" to "hell no." Understandable, since no one wants to appear desperate.

So, you know I had to play "Devil's Advocate..."

I said that all of us, at one time or another, have had sex with someone we didn't know all that well. One-Night Stands, Booty Calls, and what have you, have touched most of us, in one way, or another. So, my question was, what really is the difference between meeting someone on the 'net, or meeting someone at the club/bar, and fucking them?

The responses (from males AND females) varied, from "people on the 'net are crazy" to "desperate people find love on the 'net." Last time I checked, these were "real life" issues, as well. Yoou don't know what you're getting, when you meet someone. This is why, when entering into a possible relationship with someone, in real life, or from the Net, we need to take our time. Really get to know the person. That's the way it was supposed to go down, from the beginning.

When you really get down to it, we take the same risks, often getting the same results. The person in the business suit that you met at the supermarket, or that nice bistro you like to go to, can be just as likely to be a psycho as the person you meet on the internet. It's all in how you prepare and cultivate your initial meeting & develop your friendship.

I'm not ashamed to say I've had sex with someone I met on the net. They were local, I got a good feel of who they were, before anything jumped off, and I protected myself when it did jump off. I would have done the same thing with anybody else I would potentially get nekkid with.

A different question is, "can you fall in love with someone from the net?" Again, I don't see why not, if you put in the work of getting to know the person. I will admit that the chances are slimmer, and you do have to put more effort into it. But, how many times have we seen success stories of people that met on the internet, and are happily married, to this day. So, I guess it could happen.

I guess what I'm saying is, while the internet carries a negative stigma, when it comes to romance, I wouldn't totally rule things out.

I would love to hear your experiences with meeting people from the 'Net. Don't be shy. You won't be judged in this house...and as always, it may not be correct, but...


Sunday, July 5, 2009

Home Improvement For The Sistas

Question posed on Twitter, early Sunday morning: "What do we need to do to resell the dream of marriage and family to our black men?"

Usually, you don't get too many thought-provoking tweets, on Twitter. I was at my favorite spot, slightly inebriated, when I saw this question.

It caught my attention.

Firstly, I can tell you that the vast majority of us brothers want to do the "marriage & family" thing. It hits us, after we've "sown our royal oats." I know the saying says "wild oats", but we are Kings, so our oats are royal, dammit. In seriousness, I'm going to break down some issues that preclude us from pursuing the so-called "American Dream" and perpetuates the "playa" approach.

1.) Sistas, please throw out that antiquated-assed "I'm always right, because I'm a woman" philosophy. That shit could not be more incorrect, and it only serves to frustrate us because we start thinking we can't communicate with you. You're not always wrong, but try to dig what we're saying. And for fuck's a woman about yours, and apologize when you KNOW you're wrong. We do it, even when we're right. Trust me, it will endear us to you, when you show that vulnerability. You won't look weak. I promise.

2.) Don't try to control all the money. The issue of control over finances is the #1 cause of divorce. You try to control a man's money, and you are trying to control that man. At least, that's our perception. Encourage him to get more engaged with the bills, if you're the one that does that. A lot of us don't help the situation by saying, "I bust my ass to make the money. Take care of it." Guys, when you do this, you're asking to have your nuts cut off. You may as well say, "take all my money and just give me what YOU think I should have."

3.) When it comes to children, don't make us the "bad guy." You have to hold children accountable, like we do. "Wait until your father gets home" ain't gonna cut it. Beat that ass, then tell their father why you did it, when he gets home. Be their mother first, and THEN be their friend. They need that, and they will respect both of you more because you're showing a united front. I promise, those kids won't stay mad at you. But, they will get mad at you later in their lives, for not caring enough to steer them in the right direction.

4.) Be that "ride-or-die chick." Support what we set out to do. Don't berate us or laugh us off, saying things like, "That won't work", or "Boy, you silly." We are open to suggestion. If we do come up with a bad idea (as we often do), help out. Suggest a better way, and offer support and assistance. It's an investment. It will strengthen that "Bonnie & Clyde" thing, that couples need. Us against the world, baby.

These are just a few suggestions. But, you'd be amazed at the positivity things like this can trigger. Plus, your lives will be easier. You don't have to be that "Coming To America" chick that kept saying "Whatever you like..." But, we don't want to feel like what we do, or say might start a debate.

I am by NO means saying we men don't have a lot to work on. Remember, the question was, "What do we need to do to resell the dream of marriage and family to our black men?" I'm just merely answering a question.

The bottom line is, having a healthy relationship takes a lot of work. But, doesn't anything worth having???

I'll probably get roasted by the majority of sistas that read this. But, if only but one female enhances her relationship/life, I am good-to-go.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Requiem For A Fallen King

I sit here, 5 days after the passing of not one, but two iconic figures in our history. Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. We've all had time to digest, and let this sink in. We knew Farrah's health was declining. So, when the news came out, early that afternoon, most of us reacted basically like, "Aw, that's too bad" or a simple "RIP, Farrah."

Later, that afternoon, around 3 PM-ish, I got an alert on my phone that said Michael Jackson had gone into cardiac arrest, and was being rushed to the hospital. Being that it was reporting, I had a faint hope that it was some kind of mistake. My brother was down here from Jersey, so I took him, along with my parents to dinner. The TV's in the restaurant had ESPN on them. So, with the initial news still in my head, I thought, "Well, it HAD to be a mistake. They would have it on every channel, if it was real." During conversation with my family, I heard a gasp go throughout the restaurant. I didn't even bother to look up at the TV. I knew what the gasps were for. Right then, we prayed for Michael and his family. Subsequently, there was some confusion as to whether he had been officially pronounced dead. But, I knew...

There are not too many of us walking around, that have not been touched, entertained, or amazed by the peerless entertainer, named Michael Joseph Jackson. I say "entertainer" because he was not a technically masterful vocalist. But...that man would ENTERTAIN THE COWBOY DOGSHIT out of anyone! Anything Michael did, when he performed, made you say "WOW", or just left you with a wondrous smile and feeling like a kid, no matter your age.

If you simply say, "Michael", most people know exactly what you mean. The only time it could even come remotely close to being confused, was when Jordan was playing. And that was only when they did the "Jam" video together. Jordan was basketball's "Michael." Jackson was EVERYBODY'S "Michael."

Michael transcended everything. He never tried to. He was just infectious that way. You'd see the most hardened cats, in the street, imitating his moves, or talking about one of his videos. Even if it was just for that fleeting moment, the rage of living with their circumstances took a back seat. I know Michael made more than one bigot rethink their philosophy about race relations. Michael captivated a nation on many occasions, including one of, if not the most memorable Super Bowl halftimes in the 43 year history of the event.

We all know Michael made mistakes and a bad career decision, here or there. But, who the hell hasn't. We joked about him, sometimes cruelly. The tabloids stayed after him. People came after him and slandered his name. But, that skinny kid, from Gary, Indiana kept coming back, giving us his all. He gave and gave, until his body broke down. Even then, he was still trying to give us "Michael." He was trying one more time, when the angels stepped in, and said, "You've given enough. You've suffered enough. Let's go home." And Michael was gone from us.

If you have ever seen Michael's performances, like the Bucharest, Romania concert that aired on HBO (still one of the network's highest rated ever events), you'd know that Michael had sleight-of-hand with him. He loved magic, as I do, and he incoporated it into his shows and videos. With this, he became a magical figure, to a lot of us.

I watched the 3 hours of fuckery we called the "BET Awards" show. I had picked up my remote, and had my finger on the "TV OFF" button, when I saw Jamie Foxx, walking back out on stage, holding the hand of a figure, clad in white, with very long hair. I thought at first, "what the hell is this, more coonery?" Then, I saw that it was Janet. I knew the fuckery was over. She made a Thug Rocker's eyes a little moist, with her courage and emotion. Since Thursday, I think we kinda hoped Michael would be magical one more time...but Janet let us know. Michael's not coming back, y'all...

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Twitter Rants 2-Fuckery On Trial

Fuckery: (fuk-er-e) Foolery, stupidity, shadiness

If you are reading this, more than likely, you have a Twitter account. When dealing with a social networking site, the content pretty much reflects real life, inasmuch as attitudes and interaction goes. Most of what you see from people (including myself) is their real personality, maybe turned up, a bit.

I will have over 600 followers on Twitter, by day's end. I would guess that 97% of them are real people. Fortunately, I interact, or at least make attempts to interact with most. That said, I'm going to share what I feel sucks about Twitter, as well as the correlation to real life.

I was a little rough on the ladies in my last post, so I'll start with the guys. Fellas, I know "the code", but I gotta put some of you out there. You thirsty (read: horny) acting, grown-ass men that try to fuck everything tweeting, need to self-evaluate. If I was a chick, the question I would be asking myself when you hit me with your so-called "game" would be: what the hell is wrong with you, that you don't have, or can't get a woman, in the vicinity of where you live? Don't get me wrong. If you meet someone by happenstance, on Twitter, or anywhere else on the net, good luck to you. But these cats come on specifically for the purpose of trolling for the cooch. You guys make it tough for cats, like me, who basically just are in it for the interesting interaction and entertainment aspect of it. Take your asses to, or some shit!

The second type of fool, is the male groupie. This is the cat that only tweets at the female celebrities and porn chicks. Now, I'll admit, I follow some celebs and even a few porn stars. It's because of what they tweet, as well as who they are. I'm fortunate enough that most of them I tweet to, reply back. Why? Because, I tweet to the person, and not the "star." I don't talk to porn stars about fucking. That would be like you talking to me about my job, when I'm off and trying to relax. I'll compliment a celeb on their work, initially. They've put in the work and earned that respect. After that, I talk to them like I talk to anybody else. Profane, insane, and sometimes ignant. In plain language, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GET WITH A CELEB OR PORN STAR!

Now, it's the ladies' turn... I hate to do this, because it's going to seem like I have an ax to grind with the sistas. I really don't. I love y'all with everything in me. Some of you just have to do better. Call it "upliftment." (Did I make up a word?) I love the way sistas walk, talk, have that figure that only sistas have. *stands at the top of a mountain, and yells* YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!!!

But, as much beauty as I find in you, sometimes I find ugliness. Not physical, but on the inside. I know it's not all your fault. I also know that we men are responsible for a lot of it. But, you have a responsibility to be stronger than you are. Because us men tend to *FAIL* on a regular basis, you have to be that strong influence for these children. That's another blog, though.

What I'm trying to say is, if I simply say "Good Morning" or "How you doin'" to you, what in the blue hell is so torturing to your soul about speaking back. It doesn't mean I'll think you want to drop panties, if you say "Hey." In life, you can walk away if someone bothers you. Online, just about every social networking site has a "block/delete" feature for any over-persistent stalker-types. That is some rude shit, and you really need to take your ass off your shoulders. Please get over yourselves. There is NO excuse for not exercising common courtesy. Hell, you could be missing out on great friendships. Go on Twitter, and ask my female followers about me. Most will tell you that I'm cool as hell.

This is why I have acquired 600 followers in 3 months, and the number is growing exponentially. I'm not a celebrity, pro athlete, or half-naked male model. I give no indicators if I'm rich, or not. And I don't fool myself into thinking I'm the finest brother in the world. I'm a normal cat, with normal thoughts. The numbers don't mean shit to me. I could have 5 followers, as long as I have that interaction with them, I'm good.

You brothers and sistas need to really rethink how you are treating each other. If one or two Tweeters even think about what I'm saying and change their approach, then the time spent writing this rant was well spent. I'm done.

You may not agree, but...


Sunday, June 14, 2009

Process Of Unnatural Selection

"I'm not a materialistic, clothes & flashy things dont excite me...The most important thing about a person is their personality."-Shaundrie, on Twitter, 6.14.09

In this age of social networking, the keen of eye will notice trends. The great part about it is, these trends reflect society outside of "the matrix."

One thing that intrigues, but also sometimes bothers me, is the preference factor. What do we look for, when choosing a potential mate? I gotta tell you...some of the shit I hear and see is utterly disturbing. Ladies, you may be feeling like this is an indictment on you...It is!

I won't generalize all of you together. That wouldn't be fair, or smart. But, we can break it down, a little...

First, we have the groupies. You don't have to want to bang a celebrity to be labeled a groupie. If you fuck someone because you think that person has status in your area, then you think fucking that person will improve YOUR status, you are a groupie. You have the lowest of self-esteem, and you should seek counseling ASAP.

Next up, is the golddigger. She seeks out only the "ballers and shot-callers." Sound business decision, many times do you really see this work out? At some point, most of the golddigers tip their hand. Why, because she's not feeling this cat, and after a while, she questions whether it's worth it to stay with him, or go find another one. So she forgets the little things, that tell us, as men that you care about us. She then is relegated to telling her girls stories, while sitting on the stoop of her low-income housing, how she "used to roll." A lot of them end up assed-out, in that fashion.

Now, I will be the first to admit that, we, as men, are very base creatures. But you really think a fat ass and some large breasts will distract us from your intentions? You are sooo mistaken, and on the borderline of playing yourselves, if you believe that. The golddigger's victims KNOW she's there for the money. The "vic" deals with it, because of a couple of reasons. 1) His self-esteem leads him to believe that money is all he can offer, to attract a woman of a certain magnitude. 2) That woman will elevate his status, if they become a "power couple."

I, personally, don't give any concrete indicators of how much I make, when I meet a sistah. I am a regular guy, with a regular job. I like it, because I really never need to be concerned if she's riding with me, because she has something, besides love and an AESTHETICALLY enriched life, to gain from it. And trust, I have had some beautiful women, inside AND out, in my life. These ladies didn't care that I'm light-skinned, or don't drive a Lexus, or have a need to live beyond my means to impress them. I guess I've been blessed in that sense. I've seen cats crumble and wither, under that kind of pressure.

We men, know there are a lot of "Shaundries" out there. They can't let the others block their way from finding and growing, as people, with the great black men we were always meant to be.

Groupies and golddiggers, you can win too. But, you gotta put in the work. Flatbacking for cheese and status is a short-term fix for your ego and your pockets. But, like T.I. says in "Why You Wanna,"..."Is ya happy?"

It may not be politically correct, but...


Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Scared Ass Nukkas...

Older MySpace blog post

I don't get it. I freely admit that everybody's logic ain't like mine. But,I have found through experience that people respect you more if you "keep it funky." This means be yourself,no matter who tries to hate on it. Black folks like to down each other. It's like a pastime for us. These so called hard-heads give other black folks shit for listening to music that belonged to us in the first place. Open your small minds!

First of all,why do YOU care what I'M listening to? Secondly,you'd think people would get tired of the same cookie-cutter bullshit. I'm talkin about all the "lean wit it,rock wit its,"the same old shit about Bentleys,my nine or Desert Eagle,and last,but damn sure not least,that annoying ass Miami bass sound. This is why Gnarls Barkley is hot. It's different. These cats went out on a limb and didn't really care about appealing to the mindless masses. Wicked Wisdom is the same. This is a rock band with all members being people of color. Why shouldn't we support them the way we support any other brother or sister that is breaking color lines? They ARE Tiger Woods. They ARE the Williams sisters. Donovan McNabb,Doug Williams,Jackie Robinson,Althea Gibson. All these are people who have been told they shouldn't be able to do what they do...and refused to believe that bullshit! Not only that,they did it better than the people who were "supposed" to be good at it. Let's have some open minds,people. Versatility is a gift,not a curse. It opens more doors for you. It's not "selling out." Selling out is leaving who you really are behind to cater to something or someone. Versatility is letting all facets of you be seen. I can't understand why anyone would want to suppress any part of themselves out of fear of what others will think or say. But then...

That's MY logic...

My People..smh

I was shopping for some sneakers today. The spot I went to is in what you might call "the ghetto." So,I go to the counter to pay,and in comes this loud female. She is LOUDLY bad-mouthing the merchandise she's looking at. This loud young lady then asks the price of something she apparently is interested in. The shopkeeper answers her,to which she loudly replied,"SHEEEIT!"

Now,one would think this loud woman had no inclination to buy anything from this store. But...WAIT! All of a sudden,she sees the Air Force 1's with the clear toes. Now all is good in her eyes. Somebody,please tell "ghetto" is this?

Why is it that just about any other race doesn't get embarrassed by such buffoonery? This is just another example of the "cooning" we do on an everyday basis. Furthermore,how come it is only the unattractive women who have to be so loud? Wait,I know the answer to that one. They would not get attention in any other circumstance. My question is,what man do these loud,obnoxious heffas think would say "Ooh,she's ugly AND loud. I wanna wake up with THAT for the rest of my life."

Sistas,I love you to death. It truly pains me to see such behavior in my queens. Even the most unattractive person can be attractive,if they carry themselves the right way. Be yourself,but turn it down a little. Do that,and there will be no more celebrations of ignorance like

Early poem

Here's a selection I wanted to share with y'all. Let me know what ya think...

Scared Sheep-less,somebody tell me when it became out of style to have a mind of your own.
We clown someone who doesn't wear the same shirt we wear.
Someone who doesn't use the "phrase of the day."

Someone who ain't rockin' the sneakers that the MC on his 14th minute might be wearing.
Hey,maybe if the right person proclaims it to be "hot,"one of us will rock the throwback to end all throwbacks-a wooly mammoth fur wife-beater,complete with wooden club.

You know,just in case simply being me ain't good enough for you ladies. A brotha gotta do what he gotta do. Then again,I'll just tell you it cost $400,and all is right with the world.

Our ancestors were warriors when they got snatched up. So,how have we mutated into sheep,afraid to be individuals? Ain't evolution supposed to be an advancement?

Sorry,I'mma go be me. The mall is having a killer sale. Buy a tag with somebody's name on it,and get your choice of a shirt,pants or shoes FREE!!!

The Epitome Of A Chickenhead

I'm just coming from a night out. I was pretty much confounded,the whole time I was at the venue. I recently ran into a woman I used to date at this place. So,she's recently started hanging out there. That's fine. The first time I ran into her,we were cordial,exchanging hugs and "how ya been's." I offered her a drink. She said she didn't drink anymore,she's been saved. Still cool. The venue closes. She says,"Don't you wanna feed a sista?" Once again,cool. I hadn't seen her in a while,why not?

Fast forward to tonight... I get in the place,giving daps and hugs to the people I'm cool with. I see her. Hugs again. 2 damn seconds later..."Don't you wanna buy me some mushrooms?" Now this place has some bangin' fried mushrooms. I don't blame her for having the taste for them. But,I got irritated because I remembered why I stopped seeing this chick. She NEVER has any money,and she's always beggin'.

I know that a lot of women subscribe to the theory that the man should always pay. But,let a nigga offer first! This is a bummin' ass chick. I see she's still doin' it. She drives a different car damn near everytime I see her,always asking guys to pay for her pool games. I'm tellin' y'all,Ladies...this woman is settin' y'all back about 50 years.

"All my women who independent...throw ya hands up at me!"

I may be wrong,but then again...


Twitter Rant!

OK...I've been on Twitter for a few months now. I got a pretty good idea how this internet community thing goes. I've been doin' it for 7 years now, off and on. I just wanna break down my take on things. Might get a little controversial and hit some people close to home. With that said, I am prepared for any consequences and repercussions.

First, let me say that the "Follow Me" obsessions are really kinda stupid. I could care less how many people follow me. As long as we're communicating in SOME form, on a regular basis,I consider you a friend.

Second, if you have nothing but celebrities in your list, yet none have ever tweeted impressed do you think we are??? You really need to re-evaluate your priorities. Think some real-life friends could feel disrespected?

Fellas,you're killin' me. Same shit over and over. Either you got a pic of your bare torso, or your bare hands, holding a stack of bills. On that, I'll say if you throw out corn, you attract the chickens. Feel me? The "what's good, Ma" is REALLY played out. Women don't wanna hear that shit. They never did. Only reason it worked sometime, is because there was a redeeming quality about your stupid ass that enabled them to see past that and hope you grow out of it.

Ladies, you don't get off the hook that easy. Please get some originality. If I see one more page with an Apple Bottoms or Louis Vuitton background, I might drop-kick my PC out of a window! Being here for networking and friends ONLY, is fine. But, be just that. Tweet people back,when they hit you up. "I don't have time to answer everyone" is not an acceptable excuse. Your ass found time to create your account. Your ass found time to hook up your page. So, your ass needs to find time to return love shown to you. Hell, just comment with a simple "hi" or one of these -------> ;0). It takes 2 seconds...

Back to you, "men." Locking your updates, is one of the biggest BITCH moves you can pull on here. What is it that you're afraid of? This is the internet. It's just not that serious. Simply by the football team I like, I get hated on almost everyday! It's all good fun. Your REAL friends will be able to tell the difference between jealousy and some dumb shit you ACTUALLY did. Even if you did some dumb shit, your friends will laugh, but they got your back. Besides, when you get haterish tweets, you can always block them then. Or, better yet, IGNORE THEM! Ladies, this does not apply to you. I know y'all tend to be more image-conscious. Katt Williams said, and I paraphrase, "If you get hated on, keep doin' the shit you do, 'cause you're doin' somethin' right!"

This brings me to the caucasian element. I like the fact that you admire the black lifestyle and culture. It's cool with me that you have even assimilated our vernacular. But, you KNOW the rules! There is the one word that should never come from you, uttered from your lips, OR typed on anyone's page. That magic N-word... And for God's sake, please stop calling yourselves, or situations "ghetto." Precious few of you know shit about what's ghetto, besides what you hear on "106th & Park" or "Def Comedy Jam." So, stop it. You only come off like B-Rad, from "Malibu's Most Wanted."

I know a lot of this, if not all will fall on deaf ears. But, if one person re-evaluates the way they approach this net-thing, and it makes someone's experience better, my job is done. If not, we will just continue to clown these idiots that are attempting to become "Twitter-famous."

Then again...

Another Thug Rock Flow

Before you read this,note that my shit is copyrighted. So,bite it at your own risk... Gimme those comments,hate or love!!!

The Boogeyman

I terrorize your mental.
The thought of me being good
to you without a catch.
I lurk in your heart's shadows
Waiting to pounce
With love and affection
When I attack,I maul you
With the treatment like the queen
That is you
The mere thought of what I
Bring to the table,is everything you want
But also all that you fear
For it's the real monsters
That instilled this fear in you
When they wore the Pretender's Mask
Yet,while you challenged and battled them,
It is I you hesitate to engage
"No strings or drama" is my primal roar
The simplicity of it scares the hell out of you

Invasion Of The Knuckleheads

It's amazing what can inspire me to blog. But, I see things and they hit me a certain way.
I used to like to go out to clubs every once in a while. Even when I was in my 20's, I tended to gravitate toward the "grown folks" clubs. It seems like those establishments are on the endangered list. More and more, especially here in the Hampton Roads area, the places that were geared toward keeping the "knucklehead element" out to reduce the possibility of violence have reversed field to cater to exactly that. The philosophy was, young cats prone to "wildin' out" would be less inclined to frequent these clubs, if they had to dress to impress.

The place I went to last week, was such a club. I know it used to be 25 and up to get in. The dress code on Thursdays was always relaxed, but not to the point where you could rock t-shirts, baseball hats and doo-rags. Nothing wrong with those items. I rock hats and t-shirts on the regular. Just not when it's time to be grown and sexy. Not to mention the overall vibe in the place. Maybe, it IS me...I just felt overdressed. The fact that this area does not have its own identity is another blog in itself. When they played Snap or Crunk, everybody was "from ATL." When they played West Coast, all of a sudden, they were all Snoop. Don't get me started... Most people here want to be from somewhere else.

Anyway, when I used to go to this particular club, a short hip-hop set would get the DJ looked at funny. I love hip-hop. I was raised on it in NJ. But, I liked knowing there was a place I could go to "get my grown man on." These places now don't even play slow jams anymore. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that was the best part of going out. Lemme set the mood... You'd go out, have your eye on somebody, maybe dance on a couple of fast joints with them. The beat fades out, you'd look at each other, hoping that the other person wouldn't leave the floor just yet, (insert your favorite slow jam here) You'd two-step into a grind, and it was on, and y'all know what I mean.

You just don't get that anymore. I guess it's not "cool" anymore, because you don't see it in music videos. Ah,well...I guess those club owners gotta do what's best for their business. Whatever makes money. Maybe somebody will retain the testicular fortitude (read: balls) to stay true to what made clubbing popular in the first place.

Thanks to Ebony Queen Of VA and her crew for saving the night from being a total washout. Maybe I'll go back to the concept of house parties with the blue light in the basement...

Poetry: "Rehab"

Yes, I write poetry from time to time. I gotta be inspired though, so it's rare.

I think I've hit rock bottom.
The moment of clarity that comes when you acknowledge an addiction
I'm stuck on this chemical I can't tear myself away from.
Like Ol' Pookie,"It just keeps callin' me."
And like the addict,I come a-runnin'
I smoke of you,snort of you,and shoot you into my veins so that you may flow quickly through my bloodstream to my heart
and intoxicate my brain,until I am incoherent with emotion and lust
God,I'm high!
I need help before I lose myself in this addiction
For this drug,I would give up my possessions and wander without aim downtown...fiendin'
Fiendin' for one more hit
A megablast of that which puts me on the highest high.
Scotty ain't got shit on this,beam me up,love
There's no help for me
I'm a lifelong addict,fuck 12 steps...
I can't even take one without my fix.
Wanna get high with me?


I know, I know... You're gonna argue with me on this. Some of you will say, "No, Thug Rocker. It's like that where I live!" Yes, I realize that bad drivers are everywhere. But, I don't think it's just me who feels like the Norfolk/ Va. Beach area of Virginia is where a lot of them are infesting our roads.

People often wonder why road rage incidents occur. As a person who has been driving cars since I was 11, and has driven in all regions of the country, and parts of Canada, I've pretty much seen it all. Yet, I still find it hard to believe that so many people drive so badly. So, I have decided to give back to the community, and educate people. If you are reading this, but you're not a bad driver, please pass this on to someone you know that may not be as skillful behind the wheel.

First, I know a lot of you are upstanding, law-abiding citizens who know you shouldn't drive faster than the posted speed limit. That's what the right-hand lane on the freeway is for. If you are one of those whose rule of thumb is to drive 5 mph under the limit to ensure you don't get a ticket, that's fine. But, if you're in the left lane and you have 20 cars strung out behind you, and everybody's having to repeatedly brake-check, it would probably be a good idea to MOVE THE HELL OVER! They say "speed kills," but lack thereof at the wrong time is what causes more of the accidents out there. Somebody tries a move they wouldn't normally try, due to being frustrated at being stuck behind your no-driving ass.

Has this ever happened to you? You're cruising along on a relatively uncrowded interstate. For no good reason at all, some idiot dives in front of you, barely missing your front bumper. The galling part is, there's NOBODY behind you! This stupid, random act leaves you baffled. This fool couldn't wait 2 seconds for you to get past him?

Here's one that really mystifies me. The driver in front of you is once again driving too damned slow. You may or may not be tailgating them. They hit their brakes in an attempt to tell you to "back off." How stupid is this? They don't know if you, for a split-second may be changing the music, or lighting a cigarette, or simply don't have the reflex to react to it and BANG! Rear-end collision that didn't have to happen.

Here's how, after years of seeing this crap, I have never been in a stupid accident. Don't get me wrong. Accidents are going to happen. I have been involved in a couple. But, I'm talking about accidents as a result of stupidity. When my dad was teaching me how to drive, he said one thing that has always stuck with me. He said, "Visualize the dumbest thing that other drivers can do, and 7 times out of 10, it'll happen." I guess the remaining 3 times account for people that can drive. I live by this rule, when I drive.

It also seems like a lot of Virginia drivers take it personally when you attempt to pass them. They will actually speed up to try to prevent it! What is it that makes them afraid you will get somewhere before they do?

I drive fast, but safe. I don't take stupid chances, or go for unnecessary moves. This is why I stay accident-free. It's not all the drivers' fault. There's too damn many cars on the road. Anyone can get a car with $200 and light bill. That's another blog though.

Stay safe out there and don't snatch anybody out of their car, as much as you or I may want to. Let's hear some of your scary road stories, or opinions on what I have written here. It ain't always right, but...


Love On The Clock

This came from the question from a friend...

This blog, we are visiting the question of getting romantically involved with a co-worker. Good or bad? Here's my take on it...

I personally am of the mind that one should not get involved with a co-worker. As with all relationships, there are risks involved. But, I think there is a little more at stake, when you deal in a workplace romance. Don't get me wrong. The types of relationships people scoff at the most have worked out. But, one has to consider the ramifications of such an affair.
In my opinion, the worker-to-worker relationship has the best chance of surviving. I feel it's because both parties involved are on the same level, they can relate and commiserate on the same issues. If it goes bad, more often than not, it's simply due to the fact that they are not compatible on a personal level. But, then again, they are subject to the gossip that accompanies a relationship seen by their peers.

Then we have the manager-employee relationship. This one is a REALLY sensitive deal. Everything is magnified. Speculation about favoritism is often rampant. It tends to compromise the manager as a leader. As a supervisor at my job, I could never enter into a relationship with one of the associates working directly under me. My biggest concern is that, if I ever had to hold them accountable for any reason, it would have a dentrimental effect on the relationship. Secondly, the associate could appeal the accountability by maintaining that I only wrote them up because we were in an affair, and that it was personal. To me, there are "too many fish in the sea" to open up that can of worms.

Personally, I don't want someone to have that much access to me. Give me a chance to miss you. If we're in a relationship, then we likely spend a lot of time together outside of the workplace. I'm all for being with my baby a lot of the time, but not all day, every day. Moka has her own job, which she does very well. I have mine. She doesn't have to see me talking to a female associate and wonder if something is going on. By the same token, I'm not at all worried about her, mainly since she works with all women. But, we have the trust anyway.
I almost forgot the manager-manager relationship. It can work, but, you have variables here, as well. Ambition can be an issue. Also, in some cases, there can be a battle over who is the "alpha dog" in the relationship.

Like I said, there are risks when entering any type of relationship. We are all pretty much on the "honor system." It's like going to a restaurant. We assume that nobody has spit in our food, but are we really sure?

What do you think? Bring the comments! You know how I feel...