Sunday, October 31, 2010

Always At The Damn End...

I was mistaken in thinking yesterday was the last day of the October Blog Challenge. I thought the challenge itself was 30 blogs in 30 days. Oh, well. I was gonna do this post anyway. So...

Day 31...

You ever have one of those days where everything pretty much goes right, all the way up until the end? Yeah, that happened today.

Only, it didn't happen to me. My day went fairly smooth. It happened to an older gentleman, that works with us. We call him "Mr. G". Mr. G was going about business as usual, on his power equipment. He went 12 and one-half hours without an issue. On one of his very last tasks of the day, he had an accident that resulted in some product damage.

Under normal conditions, a manager would write an accident report, and Asset Protection would take pictures of the damage. They would go through the formality of an investigation, rule it "preventable". Mr G would have gotten a slap on the wrist, and we keep it moving.

However, because this is our "Super Bowl" period, he had to go take a urinalysis. How badly would it suck, if you were ready to go home, but had to go through that type of bullshit?

I felt bad for him, as I closed out and got in my car to go home...

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Finish Line!

Day 30...

Looks like we made it through the October Blog Challenge. My 30th consecutive blog will not be some spectacular speech. I’ll share a funny story. Then, let y’all in a little more & tell you some more about me. Useless information. But, it is what it is…

Yesterday, I had a late lunch with one of the Djs I host for, also a friend our ours. I’ll call the DJ “P”, and our boy “Flaco”. We finish lunch and take a walk around the Peninsula Town Center, an amazing shopping area that is configured like a small city. We stop at one clothing store. P and I go in. Flaco hangs back, outside the door. He was on the phone, or something. It doesn’t matter. Anyway…

Try to adjust the vision in your head to where you’re looking out, toward the street from inside the store. I happened to look up, and Flaco paces in front, then slowly walks to the right. I’m figuring he saw someone he knew, or went to look in another store. About 30 seconds later, I look up again to see Flaco walking very briskly, in the opposite direction, past the store we’re in.

I ask P rhetorically, “What the fuck is this fool doing???” Right at that moment, we see security for the Town Center walking past the store…also at a brisk pace. It looked like something out of a movie. Add to that, the fact that Flaco had the hood on his hoodie up… Well, I don’t really give two field mouse fucks if you think it’s funny. That image almost literally had me in tears, from laughing.

It got even funnier, as P and I went outside to see if the security guard was indeed in pursuit of Flaco. Flac turns the corner and the guard breaks off, continuing along the street. As soon as the guard passes the corner, here comes Flac, doubling back to our location.

Me: What the hell did you do???

Flaco: I thought that motherfucker was gonna bust me for littering.

P, Me: BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

Flaco: Fuck you both…

You didn’t think that was funny??? DAH, well… Guess ya hadda be there.


Now for a little Q&A with …ME! Just in case you want to know what makes the Thug Rocker tick.

Q: Where are you from?
A: I was born in Sacramento, California, to Marie & my then-Air Force father, Jesse. We moved from Cali before I turned 2. Started school in Plattsburgh, NY, which is about 20 miles from the Canadian border. Moved from there to Pemberton, NJ when I was 6. NJ is where I spent my formative years, which might explain my sense of humor & profane diatribes.

Q: How did you end up in the Hampton Roads (757) area?
A: I had an uncle that lived in Eastville, VA, located on the Delmarva peninsula. He would bring us across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, to Norfolk, VA Beach, & Hampton, since there wasn’t shit to do on the Delmarva side of the bay. Visits with other relatives in Richmond also influenced my move. I just fell in love with the area and the people. I was also tired of Jersey, at that time.

Q: What are your talents?
A: You guys will say “writing”, and I love you for that. I also play drums, sing a little, host events at Blurr Bistro in Newport News and other spots. I play a mean game of “Band Hero” on drums and guitar. I tweet like a demon. I can dance, act, and my most useless talent is popping my earlobe very loudly, with my index and middle fingers. I can also tie a cherry stem into a knot, using only my tongue…smh.

Q: Do you play any sports?
A: I’m OK at basketball, good at football (played WR, KR, DB, and QB), and was a 200 meter champion in high school. I’ve played softball and baseball… Shit, you get the picture. I’ll pretty much try any sport.

Q: What do you hope to accomplish with this blog?
A: Not a damn thing. It’s designed for me to get things off my chest when 140 characters on Twitter isn’t enough. But, if my rants and general fuckery makes someone think twice about some dumb shit they may be doing, or if it in some way helps somebody, then that’s very cool.

Q: Stats?
A: Not much to tell. 6-foot-5, 235 pounds. 5 tattoos, including my beloved Philadelphia Eagles’ logo. I shave my head and my pubes. Well, I trim the pubes… I work hard and play even harder. I’m a Leo, which means I am loyal as hell to those close to me. I possess the classic Leo quality of natural leadership, which admittedly, can sometimes make me have to be an asshole. Overall, I’m a laid-back type of dude.

I hope I’ve given you enough for now. But, if you want to know anything else, leave your questions in the comments section. I’d be more than happy to answer them. As yall know, I’m a fairly open book.

As always, thank you for taking time out of your life to read my writings…

Friday, October 29, 2010

Acquainticity

Day 29...

I really don’t hang out with too many people like that. You gotta be cool & laid-back as hell for me to really open up to you. But, sometimes, you run across people who give you that. Tonight was one of those nights.

It started out as a simple “GoodFellas” type of lunch with a couple of friends. I ended up meeting so many good people, that “lunch” ended at around 11 PM. The importance of good people who don’t have ulterior motives, or have their asses on their shoulders means a lot. I was kicking the “Willie Bobo” with magazine models and the whole nine. I could care less that the chicks were models. But, that fact that they didn’t ACT like models was impressive.

I get recognized as “@ThugRockStar” and from hosting parties on a regular basis. It’s cool. But, I can take that, or leave it. I go at those people as “Tim”. That’s who I want them to know. I would hope that people who have attained popularity/celebrity would do the same for me. That’s what I got from the people I met tonight. So, I support whatever field they are working in. If it’s a DJ or host, I’m gonna tell y’all what they have coming up. If it’s a model, I’ll tell you what magazine they are appearing in.

Bottom line is, I’m a Leo. One of the main qualities we are known for, is loyalty. I like to think I am the quintessential Leo. I show major love to the people I am loyal to. I may not agree with everything you do. But, I am in your corner, when the chips are down. I ride or die for mine.

We all need people like that in our lives. The fakeness gets old, quickly. I still ride mostly solo, dealing with “associates”. But, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I am ready to have friends in my life that I hang out with, and feel like they have my back. If that’s indeed the case, I’ll damn sure have theirs…

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Copouts For Coonery

Day 28...

This internet thing is a truly wondrous technological marvel. But, everything has its glitches. People seem to think they can do whatever they want, without repercussion. Most of the time, they can. We see some of everything, from disrespect of women and gays, to outright minstrel show coonery.

If someone stands up and says, “Wait a minute. This isn’t right”, the usual response is “It’s only (insert social network site here). Have a sense of humor”. Those who know me, know I love & champion humor and fuckery, as much as anyone. But, some shit just isn’t funny. Not coincidentally, it’s usually the perpetrators of said coonery that scream “It’s just jokes”.

So, is that the cop-out for anything retarded that we do? Can Caucasians say that, and not catch a beat-down for saying “nigger”? Because, guess what? Shit like that is the reason they ask that dumb-ass question. “You guys say it to each other. Why can’t I say it?”

That’s the problem. People don’t see the wide scope of what they do, these days. Instant gratification is breeding a lot of irresponsibility. This is also why you see more & more people getting in fucked-up situations. They’re not thinking shit through..

So, the next time you come across some covert or overt racism, think back to the coonish shit you do. “They” won’t respect you, if you don’t respect yourselves. Don’t think “they” don’t see it, either.

There’s a scene in the movie “Higher Learning”, where the leader of the Skinhead faction says, and I paraphrase, “See the gangs, Remy. Those monkeys are training every day, out in the streets, shooting each other”. That’s how “they” think.


Real fucking funny, huh?

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Death To The Pretentious Moon Crickets

Day 27...

I am a very heterosexual male, who just happens to watch “Real Housewives Of Atlanta”. At first, I think I was interested to see attractive black women doing well, and not portrayed as “ho’s, chicken heads, or ghetto”. It did start off that way for me.

But now, my perception has turned into seeing “nose in the air” and a stank “I’m better than you” vibe. I cannot express here how much I absolutely detest that. It frustrates me to no end, how much our people strive to separate ourselves from each other, in an elitist sense.

This started in slavery, where the “massa” would separate his dark and light-skinned negroes, by having the light-skinned slaves work the easier jobs, in the “big house”, while the darker slaves were out in the blazing-hot sun all day, working the fields and tending to the animals.

This was the genesis of the “divide and conquer” strategy the “massa” employed to keep the slaves under control. He knew he was grossly outnumbered. A revolt, as Nat Turner would later show, could be devastating to his livelihood, and a danger to his life. As long as the slaves were pitted against each other, they couldn’t unite against him.

Turner figured it out, and led a bloody, violent, and deadly revolt. Unfortunately, the rest of us have forgotten. Only now, we’re not so much divided by melanin, as we are money and social status. We can’t even give each other compliments properly. Here’s an example…

Negroid 1: That’s a nice outfit!

Negroid 2: Thanks!

Negroid 1: How much did it cost?

Negroid 2: *blank stare*

It shouldn’t be that way, people. It shouldn’t matter if you got your outfit from Walmart or you got it from Macy’s. If it looks nice, it looks nice. If you ask me how much something I have costs, I’m gonna tell you where I got it, and that I expect you to buy me more.

Do I expect people to pull each other up, by the bootstraps? Hell no. It’s your responsibility to attain the things you want, whether that be a box of mac & cheese or whether it be the newest model of Mercedes-Benz. But, what I would like to see is our people treat each other better.

Fat chance, I know. All I can do is practice what I am preaching…

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

You Need More Stripes, Soldier

Day 26...I'll refrain from that cheesy joke.

I was going to write about something else. But, some Twitter beef made me change my mind.

This was beef between local people, from the 757 area of Hampton Roads, VA. If you're not familiar,the area consists of 7 cities, in Southeast Virginia. They are Hampton, Newport News, Williamsburg, Norfolk, Virginia Beach, Chesapeake, and Suffolk.

The two people involved in the beef were taking shots at each other about who and what they do, in local entertainment. I struggle to understand where anyone can take those type of shots. Nobody's on a large enough scale around here. Getting your name shouted out by a host does not make one a celebrity.

I suppose if you were born and raised in this area, it can be easy to deem yourself a local celeb, if you run with certain people that have ties to the celebrities and athletes the come from the area. However, I'm not from this area. I see things for what they are because I've been exposed to a lot more.

I talk to the celebs and athletes I know, just like I would talk to any one of you. Their status never moved me. I support them, of course. But, you will never catch me name-dropping them, or making extra efforts to make sure I'm seen with them. People know me because of ME.

It's a great feeling to have people say good things about you because of things YOU do, not who you hang around. Conversely, it has to suck when someone gets up in the morning, goes to brush their teeth, looks in the mirror, and realizes that person they see is basically living vicariously through someone else. I hope those coattails have good shock absorbers. It could be a bumpy ride.

The bottom line is, if YOU don't do press, go outside of the area to perform, or any of the things true celebrities have to do, you've done NOTHING. Get some stamps on your passport, for fuck's sake.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Selektah...COME DOWN!

Day 25...

I have recently acquired a new addiction. Creating "mashups". If you don't know, mashups consist of a vocal portion of one song, combined with an instrumental portion of another. For example, I took the beat from Drake & Bun B's "Uptown", and laid Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" vocals over it. I was experimenting, but it actually ended up sounding kind of hot.

Little known "ThugRocker Fact": I was a music producer, a few years ago. I was told by a few music industry "insiders" said I had "the ear". Whatever that is. I always loved music. I remember getting a record player for my 5th birthday and stealing my mother's 45 RPM records to play on it.

I was a drummer, in my high school's marching & concert bands. That being said, music was always a big part of my life. I love it all & I respect it all. I played some of the 11 mashups for the DJs I host parties for. They want to play some of them and are lightly trying to coax me back into the studio.

I have to admit...doing these mashups on my laptop is reawakening the producer that lie dormant in my soul for so long...

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Decision Deferred...SMDH

Day 24...

If you read last’s Sunday’s post, “Mind-Blowing Decisions”, you may remember my co-worker’s quandary of whether to stay with his current woman, or dabble with another. If you don’t remember, Q has a great woman he’s been with for a while. She loves the hell out of him to the point that she would allow him to quit his job and be a “kept man” for a while, if he so chose. She even wanted to buy him a motorcycle. Oh yeah…she makes SERIOUS cheese.

This fool, Q, asked my advice on if he should stay with her, or pursue a new chick that he knows very little about. At one point, he even told me he was going to “be good from now on”. He’s cheated on her, in the past. He ended up (correctly) telling me that it probably wouldn’t be smart to leave what he has for the unknown.

Fast forward to yesterday. You’ve probably seen the blog I wrote, on how cats at my job want to try and fuck any half-decent looking temp or new associate that walks in the door. Yeah… That happened. All damn day, this dude is chatting up one of the new temps. She was OK looking. But, damn sure not “leave your woman” good.

First thing in the morning, Q has the “eye of the tiger” when this chick walks by. After he breaks his “radar lock” on that ass, Q looks up at me. I just shake my head and chuckle. He busts out laughing, in a sheepish type of way. I say, Dawg… “ Didn’t you just tell me, not even a whole week ago…?” He didn’t let me finish the question because he knew. His reply:

“Man… I can’t help it, bruh. It’s in my blood.”

My eyebrow raised, of it’s own volition. I simply placed a single index finger to my lips, in the “shhh” motion.

“Don’t ask me anything else, motherfucker”.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

When You Cheat...

Day 23...

One week left in @KweenOfLove’s October Blog Challenge. I think I’m running with the “big dogs”. I might just make it.

Anyway…

Lately, I been acting as a confidant and advisor to a younger cat, at my job. He has a relationship with a very sweet, young woman, whom also works with us. Sounds familiar, right? Only this time, I’m in favor of this relationship. He’s a good guy. She’s a good woman who has been in her share of fucked-up relationships.

He asked my advice, one day. Seems he went to his family’s hometown, to visit. You know what’s coming next, don’t you? Yep. He ran into an old female friend. According to the young cat, nothing had ever happened between them before. Right again…

This time, he stayed at her home, for whatever reason, with no intent of doing anything but going to sleep, on her sofa. The old “one thing led to another” jumped off, and he slept with this chick. “G”, as I’ll refer to him, almost immediately admit this to his woman. Outside forces added unnecessary fuel to the fire, and they broke up.

When you cheat, you have not only broken you significant other’s trust. You’ve broken their heart, and stung their pride. Speaking as one who’s cheated and been cheated on, I can tell you that once the trust is broken, the bond almost will never be the same.

When you cheat, (if you still want the person you cheated on), be prepared to be shut out, forced to kiss a LOT of ass, and be questioned on just about everything you do. They can be around you, or not. The simplest things will look suspect. You can’t get upset about it. You did it to yourself. You let a moment of weakness put you in that position. So…it’s incumbent upon YOU to fix it.

The other party may forgive you. But, you can bet your tuckus they are not going to forget. This is why I say the bond that you’ve built will never be the same. Here are some tips that may or may not work, for getting a lover back in your arms, after you’ve had an indiscretion. They may or may not work, depending on the infraction and your individual situation.

1. Take ownership
You did it. He/She knows it. You know they know. Don’t make excuses or rationalize. This will give the impression that you might be prone to cheat again, if you can make up a good enough explanation. Cut and dried, you were selfish. Admit it.

2. Maintain contact
You do NOT want to come across as a stalker. Keep it to a minimum. You run the risk of getting on their nerves. Give them breathing room. A simple “I wanted to check on you to make sure you’re OK” once a day, or every couple of days, is sufficient.

3. Let them know you’re trying.
Again, PERIODICALLY apologize and say how selfish you were, and how bad you feel about it. Do something to humble yourself. Get on your knees, in public. Send flowers to his/her workplace. Yes, men don’t mind getting flowers from a woman they love.

Once you’ve reopened the lines of communication, ask for a date, as if you just met. After all, you are trying to “start over”. If you have a good time, on that date, there may be hope.

Also, have your mind right for them to hang out with members of the opposite sex. You hurt them. A lot of times, they want you to feel what they felt. Then again, be prepared for the sobering fact that they may simply like someone else, and they are through with you. It’s a process.

One night of weakness, gets you all this. Is it really worth it?

If you guys and ladies have anything good to add, feel free in the comments. As always, thanks so much for taking the time!

Friday, October 22, 2010

Thank You!

Day 22...

I just wanted to take today to tell my readers how much I appreciate them.

You take time out of your lives, when you could've been making money, eating, having sex, etc. to read my rants & fuckery. I gotta say I truly love y'all for that. I started this blog as a sort of extension of my Twitter, to tell how I really felt when 140 characters is not enough.

I don't do the gossip thing. I am considering a sports blog. But, the bottom line is, I don't do this blog for fame or money. It's actually therapeutic. I can vent and get things off my chest. I never really cared who read it. But, because you show interest & a little love, I let you know when I have a new post.

Just know that I plan to keep on letting you into my head. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. But, it's something I'll keep doing. I'd like to let y'all in some more. I think I'll do a Q&A for the next one, if not in the near future. So, get your questions ready.

Thanks again, y'all! Especially to @KweenOfLove and @Afrodeezha. They comment every day! People like them make this shit worth doing. Love y'all!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Life Coaches...Really?

I've seen my share of women complain about not having a man and the reasons that they don't. Then, I've seen these "life coaches" and "motivational speakers" give blanket advice on how to solve the problem.

1st of all, all women are not the same. So, blanket advice given, is like selling snake oil. 2nd, the shit they're peddling is common sense. "Say what you mean, mean what you say" is elementary "relationship 101".

Maybe I should become a motivational speaker...

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

More Twitter Rants

Day 20...

Getting this one in before midnight...

When I first got on Twitter, I was one of those that participated in Follow Friday, Twitter After Dark, and other activities. As I got wiser, and took the pulse of what my followers did and felt, I outgrew these things.

Another thing I did, was post crazy pics. I mean, the craziest, most gross or ratchet ones I could find. This was in addition to what I had to say. I kind of used it to enhance was I was talking about. I outgrew that, as well.

But, we have people who have been on Twitter long enough to outgrow this. But, they haven't. Why? My theory is that they really have nothing to say. Either that, or they are trying to acquire followers the fast, cheap way.

But, is Twitter really about the number of followers you have? I don't think so. It's about the experience. It's SOCIAL networking. Interacting with new people and possibly getting friends out of it, is the appeal. If you want popularity, take your ass to MySpace. Somebody will put you in their Top 8.

We have people that use crazy pics as their avatars. I've heard from some that they don't want their employers to know what they do on Twitter. Well... If you can't do shit your employer would have a problem with on your own time, on your own computer or phone, you probably shouldn't be doing it anyway. In which case, you now have crossed into "fronting" territory.

What you see on Twitter, from me, is pretty much what you get in real life. People at my job know about it, and I have no fear of repercussion from my employer. There will be those who say, as always, "It's just Twitter". It is. But, you're also showing us who you are, to an extent. Why would you want to be someone else, on a social networking site? Tap-dancing for people you likely don't know and don't give 2 drops of camel piss what you do, or what happens to you... Mind-boggling.

Try being "you". If that's not good enough, fuck 'em.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Who's Playing Whom???

Day 19...

As I’m perusing my Twitter timeline, I see tweets from a female that stand out. These tweets contain the word “predator”, spelled out in all caps. There’s also a link to this female’s blog. I’m thinking she’s exposing a child molester or scam artist, or someone of that ilk.

Turns out, she tells how this guy told her he has $390 million, and owns a Maybach. So, she’s apparently made sex tapes and taken raunchy pics with this guy, who in turn posted them on the internet. But wait…this guy never had any money on him, and slept on his sister’s couch. Why? Because he was “waiting on wire transfers” from his father, who is allegedly a high-profile lawyer, in New York.

Guess what? Of course, she never saw any of the shit he said he had. She got suckered. Not because she was led to believe dude loved her and had her best interests in mind. But, because she thought she had the “goose that laid golden eggs”. If you read the blog, you’ll see what I mean. Much is made of the money, or lack thereof. This female even went back and added to the blog, saying maybe she was being a golddigger, and looking for other qualities in this cat that she was missing in her life.

“Maybe”??? There’s no maybe. According to what I read, gold digging was definitely in play. An amateurish attempt, at that. For the record, dude was definitely dead wrong for misrepresenting himself, just to get sex. I call this “obtaining vagina via false pretense”. And, he was dead wrong for releasing intimate pics and videos on the “net. But, the fact that your reasons for dealing with this dude seem to be centered around what you THOUGHT he had, instead of how he made you feel, make you look like the biggest, most gullible sucker.

I believe that’s why this chick is choosing to “expose” dude. She didn’t get to “juice” the guy. She didn’t have her pic taken, while she was getting out of the Maybach that doesn’t exist. No red carpet for you, babe.

Golddiggers grind my damn gears. Choosing a mate because financial security is included among the qualities you like, is cool. But, choosing one just BECAUSE of that, and nothing else…well, it makes you sort of a whore.

I keep checking my Twitter feed, as I write this. Now, this sista is saying she is exposing him because he exposed her, by releasing the pics and vids. Judging by the blog she wrote, her motivation for doing the pics an vids was based mainly, if not solely on the fact that she was under the impression that this dude was promising her material things.

Guys lie to get women. We know this. It’s wrong. Women lie to guys to get what they want. We know that. It’s wrong. With that said, if you go that route and it doesn’t work out the way you planned, who can you really be angry with?

I’m trying not to be too judgmental here. I don’t know if I’m succeeding at that. So, I’m providing the link to the aforementioned blog. You should know that what was originally written is in a normal font. Whatever was added after that, is in bold fonts. That may help kind of “read between the lines”. Anyway, here’s the link…

http://vixengossip.com/

I’d love to know y’all’s take on the situation…

Open Letter To My Twitter

Dear Twitter,
We've known each other, going on 2 years now. We've had our highs, & we've had our lows.

You helped me break a lot of news & stories among my Twizzlers (followers), including the passing of Michael Jackson. You also supported my "unfollow Perez (Hilton)" after he said that MJ "probably faked his death.

But, people underestimate you, Twitter. They think all there is to you, is to tell everyone "what we are doing." They don't know you like I do. We know there is so much more to you, than that.

People don't respect you. Chronic misspellings and typos, along with what I like to call "Slave-speak", illustrate the level of disrespect. If they really cared, they'd Google. Everyone knows that where you are, Google is sure to be found, not far away.

They use you, Twitter. They use you to created false personas. They use you in the wrong way. They spread false rumors through you & recycle Trending Topics.
But, I understand you. You're cool with me. You have my loyalty and respect. Continue to be you, Twitter. There are those of us that have love for you...

Even though we hang out with Facebook sometimes...

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Mind-Blowing Decisions

Day 17...

The question was posed to me by an associate. "If you have 1 person you're in a relationship with, but it's struggling & 1 person you're feeling, but don't know as much about, which way do you go?"

Now, I was incredulous, as the answer should be obvious. But, I had patience today. Told the person they need to weigh all options. Stability, time invested, what the future holds, what the other person brings to the table... You know. Shit like that.

Personally, If I have a stable relationship, with the aforementioned factors in place. There is no way I'm trading that for the unknown. The next chick might be a Freaky Jason axe murderer.

I hate to sound shallow. But, this persons current makes a shit-ton more moolah, than the one that they're considering. We all know financial stability is a factor. Love is nice. But, it's really light on calories.

This person has a lot of thinking to do. I know what I would do. How about you?

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Not So Easy Rider

I've been thinking about getting a motorcycle for a long time. Don't know why I haven't done it yet... Wait. I take that back. I know why.

There are a few factors. One, is the Virginia weather. It's so inconsistent. Plus, with the bike I'd want, that would be a WHOLE lot of money to spend on something that probably will just sit, half the year. I'm not a cat you'd see on a "crotch rocket". I'm 6'5", 240. I'd look like Hulk Hogan, if he was riding a moped.

Second, is the cost. I want one of those pan-head Harleys. That's a boss ass bike, right there. But, those damn things are like, $30,000. Ah, well... Guess I'll have to settle for that Camaro I was looking at...

One more thing about the weather. When it gets cold, damn if I'm buying an $800-900 leather suit to ride in. Not gonna have me looking like a light-skinned Eddie Murphy. Damn that.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Thirst At Work




Day 15... Made it halfway through the Blog Challenge. This shit ain't easy as y'all might think.

Today, I'm gonna talk about my job. Well, the people at my job. I don't get why a lot of the cats at my job are trying to fuck all the chicks that work there. I don't know if this happens where you work. But, to me, it's crazy.

First of all, I could never have a relationship with someone that works in the same place, on the same shift. You don't really have a chance to miss each other. Plus, there are too many people in your business. Add to that, the drama that comes after the relationship/tryst is over, and that is a recipe for a lot of unnecessary bullshit. No, thank you.

I don't know if it's "the hunt" that drives these dudes, or their just straight-up horn dogs that don't see a lot of vagina in their lives. They REALLY put a lot of effort into it. I wish you could see it. It's laughable.

Oh...and let a new, half-decent looking chick start working with us. These buttery motherfuckers turn into sharks at a feeding frenzy. Half of the guys are married, or in committed relationships. This makes it funnier, but in sort of a scandalous way.

Me personally, I'm a firm believer in not "shitting where I eat". You would have to be some kind of special woman for me to subject myself to the gossip and other complications that can accompany a workplace relationship.

I blogged on this, on MySpace, years ago. I still feel the same way now, that I did then. I just don't get how these guys can be so reckless. I guess it's a case of the little head thinking for the big head. Sometimes, the vajeen can make you stupid.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Obeying Your Thirst




Day 14...

I'm trying to figure out the "thirst" factor, on the internet. It seems that everywhere you turn, on social networks, people act sort of...well, foolish, for lack of a better term.

You would think some of these people never saw an attractive man or woman before. The level of fawning over people has gotten ridiculous. It's pretty plain to see who people are, that are not accustomed to attention from the opposite sex.

"Over-complimenting" and constantly mentioning a person or persons pretty much exposes you as someone who is thirsty. Again, a term I like to borrow from football is, "Act like you've been in the endzone before". I guess it might really apply in this case.

Maybe it's just me. I've always appreciated a beautiful woman. But, I don't care if she's a high-fashion model or a centerfold, or even just a "regular" fine chick. I've never been one to fall all over myself just because a female is physically attractive. That is some really shallow shit. Then again, I know that some people need that "trophy" on their arm.

People's parents really should do a better job in building kids' self-esteem. I almost feel sorry for people who try so damn hard. It is so liberating not to so constrained by worrying about what other people, who give 2 drops of monkey piss about me, might think.

Free yourselves, people. Present your true self on a platter and say "This is me. Accept or reject". If they happen to reject, fuck 'em. Onto the next one. It's soooo easy.

I'll leave y'all to wrestle with that one. I'm good.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

"VA Unity"...Is it possible?




Day 13...I know. Yesterday's post was basically a Twitter update. I ain't shit for that one. Let's move on...

I was talking with my nephew, my DJ that I host for, and another DJ from our local radio station, last night. My nephew wants to do something big for his birthday, in March. The premise is that we would have a bunch of DJ's, hosts, and any other local "personalities" in the same place, promoting the idea of unity, in the entertainment field.

I gotta say, I'm not too optimistic that this will be a big success. I told them that, last night. My nephew seems to think that the divisiveness is directly attributed to money. Some of it may be. But, the biggest thing causing all the hate in the 757, is fear. This fear breeds jealousy. Subsequently, jealousy breeds hate.

People afraid of getting their "shine" taken around here. I've ranted about it on many occasions, on Twitter. Bottom line, if you are good at what you do, no one can outshine you by a whole lot, if any. For example, I can host at an event, and share the mic with anyone. I don't worry about my co-host making me look bad, or irrelevant. One simple reason: it can't be done.

Conversely, I've handed the mic to a "co-host", only to have them not want to pass it back, the remainder of the event. I said "Fuck it, son. Do you. You need the shine, more than me." Damn, if I'm gonna sit there & argue over mic time. Still, not too many people know that "host's" name.

There was another time I was asked to host at a place I hadn't worked before. There were 2 DJ's, including mine. The other DJ had his own host. I was cool with that. Again, I can work with damn near anyone that has their shit straight. Me, being the "visiting team", I played my position and chilled. When my DJ started spinning, I expected the other host to throw to me. Shit didn't happen. I asked my DJ why I was asked to be there. He got the situation straight. The promoters were great, too.

So, I did what it is I do. Had the crowd going, and shouted out BOTH DJ's, and the other hosts. After all, it's about the EVENT. Not the hosts, as a lot of "hosts" like to believe. That's like Ryan Seacrest coming out on "American Idol" and singing. A host enhances the event. They don't try to be THE star.

I'm digressing. Anyhow, I take a breath and a swig of beer. One of the other hosts actually comes up from behind me, and snatches the mic out of my hand. I figure she has an important announcement, or something. Nope. She just starts singing along with the song that's being played. A lot of "hosts" do that as well. WTF???

At that point, I was like "Fuck it. I got paid up-front. I don't play those games. Especially with people that aren't anywhere near my level". I simply told my DJ, "I hope you know you paid me to be here & just drink beer, right? If you're good with that, so am I. Easiest money I'll ever make."

Bottom line is, where I'm from (New Jersey), DJ's and hosts were like one big ass fraternity/sorority. It was all love and we'd even do guest appearances for each other. We could do that because we were all secure in our abilities, and what we brought to the table.

Here, in the 757 area of Southeastern Virginia, I've seen people try to "snake" gigs from people, there's not a lot of love, and actually...it's pretty cutthroat. Makes it to where the business side takes over. That detracts from the shows. The DJ and the host appearing to have fun, feeds the crowd.

I don't know how it's going to happen. But, until people get over that insecurity and fear, unity is going to continue to be a rare commodity in the 757.

Me? I'll always be good. I host for fun and some change, here & there. I'm good at it. Dare say I'm one of the best in this area. I have the voice, and something that a lot of hosts need, but don't have...innate charisma. My personality has a huge dick. I don't make this shit up. Every DJ I work with loves me. Customers at the venues constantly tell me they like what I do. The venues themselves love what I do. This is because I know "the rules", and I do it like no one else. I've tried to help other hosts that struggle. Of course, they don't want to hear it.

This is why I'm not confident about VA Unity. You can't unite those who don't want to be united. I'll continue to support the cause. I can only hope that one day it happens...

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Nothing At All

Just finished watching the BET Hip-Hop Awards. That's all I've got. Sorry.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Sending My "Love"

Day 11...

I'm watching the Jets/Vikings game, as I write this. The big backstory to this contest should've been the return of Randy Moss, to the Minnesota Vikings. But, Brett Favre has a thing for drawing attention.

It seems that Favre is being accused of sending "inappropriate messages & pictures" to an employee of the Jets, whom Favre played for a couple of years ago. Translated, this means he sent the woman pictures of his penis.

I never understood why some men send unsolicited pics of their "member" to women, or even other men. Are they that proud of it, that they need to show it to the world? It's the same as the perv, in the raincoat, throwing it open to reveal he's wearing absolutely nothing.

Now, if a guy is having a little fun with the person that is actually the recipient of the penis, I can dig that. It's a form of foreplay. But, no way am I "gifting" a chick with a portrait, if the chances are slim to none that she'll actually meet "him".

Does the guy that sent the pic say to himself, "I'm gonna send a picture of my dick to some chick I don't know. She'll want to fuck it", or is he simply doing it for the shock value?

Point blank, sending dick pics to a chick you don't know, is just tacky, lame, and stinks of desperation. It's like saying, "My personality sucks. So, maybe I can impress her with this picture. That way, I don't have to do much talking." If you do think that way, you're officially stupid.

Plus, these ladies TALK. If you pervs could see what these ladies would say BEFORE you send your pic, you probably would abort that mission. Do yourselves a favor and wait until a chick tells you she wants to meet your "friend". Then, introduce them...in person.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Hooked on DEEZ Phonics

Day 10... A third of the way through the Blog Challenge.

I love social networking. My 52,000-plus tweets can attest to that. But, like anyone else, I see things that sometimes ruin the experience for me.

My pet peeve? My followers can tell you. By far, it's bad spelling and grammar. I understand about slang and the fact that Twitter only allows 140 characters, per tweet. But, most of the shit I end up reading is not slang, and it's not saving characters. Especially when the offending words/phrases have the same number of, or more letters than the correct ones.

"Since" doesn't save any more characters than "sense". "Would of" takes the same number as "would've". You get the picture...

I didn't go to a private school, or take any courses that WOULD'VE afforded me a better education than any of you that may be reading this. What I did have, was parents & teachers that cared enough to make sure I was actually LEARNING. So, it didn't matter if I didn't want to pay attention in class, or if I called myself "being a knucklehead". They imparted to me that it was OK to be smart, because the "cool kids" weren't going to put money in my pocket.

Don't get me wrong. I was by no means a "nerd". I actually was the "King Of Mama Jokes". Hard to believe, huh? But, I saved my fuckery for the hallways, between classes, the lunchroom, or the school bus...WHERE IT BELONGS. I made mistakes along the way. I got thrown out of classes, and what-not. But, my parents and teachers quickly got me back on track. They had good communication. And unlike a lot of young parents today, mine didn't automatically go charging up to the school to confront teachers, just because the educator said something about their child, that they might not want to hear.

My parents (mainly my mom) would fight to the death for me, IF I was right. But, if I was wrong, she corrected me. So, the fact that so many grown-ass adults struggle with simple spelling and English, is staggering to me. It evidences that either people's schools failed them, or worse, their parents did, by not taking enough interest to follow up with schools to make sure they did their job. In some cases, the parents themselves may not be educated enough to be able to tell when the kids are struggling.

There are too many resources available for mature adults to be "guessing" at how to spell easy words. We've got to do better, y'all.

I really hate to sound judgmental. But, all I want is for "other people" to stop looking at us with pity or ridicule.

"It's only Twitter. Relax" or "Chill, ol' spellcheck ass" doesn't work for me. If you type on Twitter like that, chances are good that you'll present a document at your place of work with that type of spelling and language. Any e-mails I get that are full of spelling/grammar errors, I have a hard time taking seriously.

It can cost you good jobs, or promotions. This means bad spelling & grammar can cost you MONEY. Bet that got your attention, huh?

Saturday, October 9, 2010

This Shit Still Goes On...

Day 9...

We all like to think this great country of ours, is the most "progressive" it's ever been. Right?

Hold what ya got...

After a hard day's work, I went to a store in one of our local malls. I'd been in this particular establishment, many times before. It's one of my favorite stores. Today, I walk in, not looking unusual. At least, not in my opinion. I'm wearing a ball cap, a "golf pullover" with my company's logo on it, some shorts and sneakers. Perks of working weekends...relaxed dress code.

So, I'm in an aisle, browsing. I know what I want. I'm just looking for the right style. After 2.598978928 seconds, a blond caucazoid employee *poof* appears in the aisle. He gives me the obligatory customer service by asking if I'm finding everything OK.

I tell him "I'm looking for the right ones, but I will be buying some gloves today." I knew why he was really there. I have a total of 9 years in the retail loss-prevention field. We instructed employees to "customer service" possible shoplifters "to death". I said what I said, in order to put him at ease and let him know I was not there to steal a simple ass pair of gloves.

Dude leaves the aisle. Meanwhile, I'm on my Blackberry Messenger (BBM), telling one of my friends about this guy's pitiful attempt at playing "detective". Another 2.01947728934675 seconds later, dude pops up on the other side of the aisle. This time, he very badly acts like he's tidying up the aisle. Yall know what I did, right?

If you guessed that I took a pic of him with my camera phone, YOU ARE CORRECT!

"Tell them what they've won..."

This silly bastard left the aisle. I picked out the gloves I wanted, and took them to the checkout, where I paid for them.

If I wasn't so exhausted from work, I would have taken his rooty-poot ass for a couple of laps around that store. Yes...just to fuck with him. What he didn't know is, the friend that I was on BBM with...was his boss. My dude just happens to be the GM of that particular store. Guess what? He's black too!

Can y'all hear my evil-ass laugh, right now???

Friday, October 8, 2010

Movin' On Up? Riiiiight...

Day 8...

I'm gonna tell y'all what grinds my gears. What is it that makes black folks want to put themselves on a pedestal, and look down their damn noses at others? I mean, damn. I see and hear people try to appear upscale, while slick downing others, on a daily basis.

If your world is so "tight", why would you even be bothered with trying to impress others in this way. So what, you party with certain groups? So what, you go to the so-called "hot" club? To me, you still end up the same pitiful person that is striving to be "somebody".

I don't get it. People's thirst to lead a "celebrity" life is alarming. I'm a "nobody". I'm fine with that. No pressure to be certain places, or do certain things with people I'm not even sure I like. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be popular. We all want to be liked. But, get that popularity because you have a great personality, on your own merits. The "easy way" doesn't work. The rare times it does, it's a quick fix until you do/don't do something that pisses someone in the "cool kids" off.

I'm comfortable at an "upscale" spot, just as I'd be at a "hole in the wall". Place could be full & popping, or 10 people in the joint. Either way, I'll enjoy myself. Most of all, I love the satisfaction of doing what I WANT TO DO.

I can chill with anybody. From celebrities, to the nerdiest introvert. Anybody who thinks they're "too big" to hang with someone... Well, to me, they ABSOLUTELY SUCK!

So, you thirsty motherfuckers, keep trying. No money, pussy, or any other "benefits" will result from your thirst. Most "socialites" didn't have to work their way to that status. Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and those of their ilk, already had money and a "name" behind them.

Keep doing what you do, though. If we're ever in the same spot, and you see me shaking my head and/or laughing, you don't have to waste the time to ask me why.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Day 7...

I'll start this one with a shoutout to the homie, @Afrodeezha. She caught the "Grammar Nazi" slippin' yesterday. Hey, playas fuck up too.

I don't really have shit to talk about today. So, I'll go to the mental archives for a story...

Before I was to leave to go into the military, my cousin, Shaun & our friends treated me to a concert, in Philadelphia. This concert featured the members of New Edition (separately & together) as well as Al B. Sure. I figured, "Hey, why not? There should be a bunch of hot women there".

They pick me up, and my cousin needs to stop and scoop his then-boo. We stop at a liquor store, next to a 7-Eleven first. We purchase beer, and of course, liquor, as well as hot dogs from the 7-Eleven. We scarf our food, and sip our drinks, on the way to my cuzzo's boo's house.

My boy, Rich, honks the horn, and my Shaun's girl, Tonya, comes out of the house, looking radiant. Dressed to the nines, and makeup perfect. Just one problem. She didn't normally ever wear makeup. She really didn't have to. She was a naturally pretty girl. So, Shaun had an issue with this.

Tonya was from Mount Vernon, NY. She told Shaun she had partied with Heavy D & Al B. Sure before. This information, in the back of his mind, coupled with the Southern Comfort he drank, had this dude trippin!

He's like, "What you got on makeup for??? Al B. Sure ain't gonna see you, with the shitty seats we got." This argument goes on from Willingboro, NJ, all the way to the Philadelphia Spectrum, where the concert is being held. Rich is having trouble driving because we're laughing so hard.

We make it to the Spectrum safely, and find our seats. By this time, Tonya is so heated, she won't even sit in her seat. So, it's Rich, Shaun, an empty seat, then me. Tonya is sitting on the stairs, in the aisle. After refusing to take her seat, we finally tell her that security won't let her stay in the aisle. She finally relents.

I had purchased a program for the show, and was sharing it with a lovely sista who was sitting on the other side of me from Tonya. I'm chatting this chick up, and feeling like I'm telling the right lies. I get slightly bumped by Tonya. I look over, and Shaun, in his now full-blown drunken stupor, keeps trying to lay his head on Tonya's shoulder.

As I'm still trying to entertain my new friend, Tonya's pushing Shaun off her. He sits straight up, looks at all of us, looks straight ahead, and proceeds to puke!!!
I'm not talking the regular "fall out of your mouth" puke. This negro was spewing like a jet hose. Hot dog chunks flying everywhere #NShit.

My shocked new acquaintance and her wing-woman get up and damn-near run away. Gee...thanks, Cuz. Fucker.

I see the greycoats (Spectrum security) come walking up the stairs. So, we try to get Shaun to straighten up. Our efforts were futile, and he was asked to leave the arena. Guess who got elected to escort him out? Fuuuuuck.

So, now I'm a little pissed off. This dude has ruined my action AND now I gotta miss part of the show, because I gotta drag his drunk ass to a car that's parked in "WhatTheFuck, Egypt".

While this buttery motherfucker is drunkenly mumbling, "Take care of my girl. I love my girl. I love all of y'all...", I throw him in the back seat. After I angrily slammed the door, I chuckled a little at how he looked like a sack of potatoes when I tossed him in the car.

The rest of us enjoy the show, and make our way back to New Jersey. This fool I call a cousin, wakes up and starts another argument with Tonya. We're like WTF, son??? She storms into her house, when we drop her off. We go to pull off, and Shaun stops us. This coon goes around to her bedroom window, and comes back about 10 minutes later, talking about, "Yall can go 'head. I'm good."

I can't believe this dude pissed his girl off, puked all over the home of the 76ers, Flyers, & Rocky Balboa, and is STILL gonna get some cooch...
n
Go fuckin' figure.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

They Shoulda Never Gave You Niggas "Retweet"

Day 6 Blog Challenge

Let's see... I'm a little late today. But, as long as I get it done before midnight, I'm good.

1st, let me give a shoutout to Roy Halladay and my Philadelphia Phillies. Halladay threw only the 2nd no-hitter in the playoffs. Phils are gunning for a 2nd World Series title in 3 years. Us fans call it "Red October".

Anyhow, let me get to today's rant...

I absolutely HATE people on Twitter, that have the need to retweet compliments, LOL's at jokes they may have tweeted, Follow Friday shoutouts, etc. Since most of you reading this follow me on Twitter, you already know this.

What is it that makes one need to resort to such "look at me, I'm cool" tactics? I really need to know. Why is it that those people can't just say "thank you" to the sender(s) of any such accolades?

It's like what football coaches tell players that score touchdowns. "Act like you've been in the endzone before." If you're used to getting good things said about you, it shouldn't be a big deal.

When you do such things, it's pretty transparent to the rest of us that people don't say good things about you very often. Now, I'm not famous at all, or a "Twitter Celeb" by any stretch. But, what I am, is a RockStar in my head. So, good or bad, what you say or think about me is what it is.

I get a lot of love, but I get hate also. I can't/won't let it affect what I do, or how I live. I love y'all. But, when the smoke is cleared, y'all are not putting money in my pocket, food on my table, or clothes on my back.

The moral to the story is, if you don't love YOURSELF first, who the hell else will? And you can't make people love you by giving "testimonials" over Twitter either.

Go holla at that person in the mirror. You need to tell them, "Hey. You are just as good as anyone else out there. Rock your shit. Head up!" Rich or poor, you too can be a RockStar. Show 'em what you got, and stop the bullshit.

Peace.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

When Do Jokes Cross The Line?

Day 5 of the Blog Challenge...

I get that we Black folks use humor to get us through tough times. It's been that way since slavery. But, the trend now seems to be mean-spirited buffoonery. At least, that's what I'm seeing.

Even on Twitter, nothing and no one is safe. Fantasia Barrino, while she and her family are characters, was pretty much raked over the coals, following a failed suicide attempt. Things were tweeted such as, the attempt failed because she couldn't read the instructions on the pill bottle, just to name one example.

The question that comes to mind is, when do we cross the line? When does "good, clean fun" become a "minstrel show"?

The Fantasia suicide jokes frustrated me a little. I'm pretty sure that had she been successful in her attempt, a lot of the same people that went in on her, would've been tweeting "RIP Fantasia" & going on about how she left us too soon.

That hypocrisy is maddening for me. Somebody trying to kill themselves & leaving a very young child without a parent... Sorry. I am well aware "it's just Twitter". But, that just ain't funny to me. I don't recall any comedians (good ones anyway) that get paid to tell jokes, touching that subject.

The problem is, some Black folks try to hard to be what I call "fashionably funny". When people laugh at our jokes, it gives us a sense of accomplishment. Who doesn't want to be directly responsible for putting smiles on people's faces? I love knowing you might be entertained by something I tweet, or what you might read here.

I champion fun & fuckery as much as anyone else. But, I can't find humor in personal attacks that make others feel bad about themselves. When did that qualify as "comedy"???

Anyway, I'm off this soapbox for now. Those of you that follow this blog, I just want to take a sec to say "Thank You". You could be doing anything else with your time, besides reading my randomness. I can't even express here, how much I appreciate you!

Monday, October 4, 2010

6 AM Conspiracy Theories?

I got up at 4:30, this morning, for work. I got a grand total of 4.5 hrs sleep. This came on the heels of 5 hrs sleep on Saturday night, and 0 hrs on Friday night. So, as of this writing, I've had a total of 9 hrs sleep, since 10:30, Friday morning.

I'm not telling you this to paint my self as some sort of "ironman" or "superhero". I'm telling you this because, gotdammit, I'm EXHAUSTED. Those who know me, can tell you there are times when I can be difficult, on full rest. Blame it on my parents. They're the ones that had sex, on a cold November night, insuring I'd be born under the sign of Leo the lion.

Fast forward a little to 5:45 AM. I make my customary pit stop to get my coffee, large with French Vanilla & Chocolate Creme creamers, 3 sugars, & mixed with a 3rd of the cup French Vanilla cappucino. This wonderful beverage accompanies a "bow tie" donut. Judge me, if you will. That combo has kept a lot of people employed, alive, and with their dignity intact, over the years.

Some random regular at the convenience store where I make my daily pit stop, starts talking to me about yesterday's football games. He knows I'm a Philadelphia Eagles fan. Eagles quarterback, Michael Vick, a native of the area I live in, sustained a rib injury during yesterday's loss to the Washington Redskins.

So, the random guy comes bopping into the store, all chipper and shit. He starts talking about the game. My face doesn't do a good job of hiding my emotions, unless I'm playing Spades. So, I'm confident that the look on my mug told him, "Bruh, I'm on 4.5 hrs of sleep and I haven't had my coffee yet. If that didn't clue him in, my one-word answers & grunts should've.

This dude woke me all the way up, when he goes on about how Vick's injury was "a setup". Seriously, my dude??? It's 6 o'-fucking-clock in the morning, and you're telling me that "The Man" put Michael Vick and 2 defenders in the exact physical posture during a high-speed NFL football play, to intentionally injure him? The next look on my face must've been more accurate, because he did exactly what my face told him to. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. STUPID.

Other than that, I had a decent day. How bout yall?

Sunday, October 3, 2010

I blog, therefore I am...not




Day 3 of the October Blog Challenge.

Last night, after a pretty tough day of work, I settled onto my bed. With laptop where it was intended to be, I began my 2nd of what I hope to be 30 consecutive days of at least one blog entry.

Do y'all know I fell asleep while I was blogging??? Woke up with my fingers still on the keys, and a string of drool connecting my bottom soup cooler to my stomach. But, I'm determined to meet this challenge.

So, at this very moment, I'm sitting in Blurr Bistro & Ultra Lounge. I'm watching my Philadelphia Eagles lose to the Washington Redskins, and...I'm blogging. These are the types of things it takes to meet a goal of this sort.

I was never one to blog daily. Never thought I'd have much to say. Even if I did, who the hell would care? But, after years of doing this, I figured it out. Why not tell you guys about the shit that happens to me, or the fuckery I see on a frequent basis?

After all, that's why I started blogging in the 1st place. Kind of a mind-clearing "journal", if you will. I don't have dreams of becoming a famous blogger, or getting paid for it. Not that it would be a bad thing. It's just one of the things I do.

I guess at least for this month, I will be boring you guys with the bullshit that is my life. Don't roast me on Twitter. Please and thanks.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Suspicious Minds




So, I'm on the job, doing what I do. I don't usually care about, or get involved in the extracurricular shit that goes on. You know, "who's banging whom" and what-not. But, I noticed something recently...

We have a female transfer that came in, not too long ago. She's decent-looking. Not drop-dead, but OK. She's pretty enough to have a boyfriend. One of the guys I work with, has started bringing her lunch. On a regular basis, too. Not buying it for her, but actually making it at his house. Nice of him, right?

It gets deeper...

This dude's girlfriend also works at the same place as us. Different shift, but the same buliding. He's also started hanging out with his "new friend", outside of the job. The one time I was there, they had the appearance that at least one of them was looking to be more than "just friends".

My question to yall is, if you were this dude's girlfriend and you found out that your dude was doing all this... How would it affect you? I'm no snitch. But, it kind of boggles my mind. This cat's girlfriend is FINE AS HELL and they do live together.

I don't want either female. I don't shit where I eat. So, this is not a jealousy thing. Plus, I got my own life to live. I can only say how I'd feel if my significant other were to put that kind of time and effort into a member of the opposite sex. It would raise flags, for me.

So, my people... I need your feedback. What if...?

By the way, I've never seen this chick provide lunch for anyone. Is ol' boy "pitching woo", as the old-timers say? Or, is it nothing but a solid friendship within the bounds for those who are in committed relationships?

I'd love to read what yall think...

Friday, October 1, 2010

Crazy Dreams




Today begins the October Blog challenge, in which bloggers must post an entry every single day of the month. This is perfect for me, as I have REALLY fallen off in my writing frequency. This ought to get me back on track.

Day 1 of the challenge begins with a dream I had. This one was weird. But, at the same time, it might be a good idea for a film...

I'm pretty sure this dream was fueled by last night's alcoholic fuckery. Here goes...

The scenario is sort of a rural town, with a small, busy downtown area. An unknown building gets destroyed, and a huge, Hulk-like black man is seen trudging mindlessly into the woods. All of a sudden, people start turning up dead. Most are killed in brutal fashion and no one knows why. Naturally. Apologies for THAT cliche'...

Don't ask me how I got there. But, I end up on some country-ass road. I see the Hulk-like being, coming out of the woods. I shall refer to him as "Uncle Ben On Steroids". "Unc" for short. Think Michael Clarke Duncan, only a lot bigger and a lot meaner.

Unc doesn't see me, and aimlessly ambles on his way. I see something in the treeline. Making sure Unc is gone, I go investigate further. I discover a horribly mangled human body. Mangled to the point where it's impossible to determine if the victim was male or female.

My dream (or what I remember of it) cuts back to the downtown area. Somehow, I've discovered that Unc was genetically altered by a group in the building that got destroyed. The leader of which, is Resha, also known on Twitter as @kanYeBreast. Resha also has the power to transfer souls, once the host body has died. She can even transfer the souls to inanimate objects, bringing them to life.

I tell an unknown male of my discovery. Like Batman & Robin, we set out to stop Resha & Unc. Resha gets wind of this, and sends Unc after us. Once Unc gets locked on, he is relentless.

***DISCLAIMER*** Resha is a very intelligent, nice & gorgeous woman. She is in NO way, shape, or form "evil" to my knowledge. Again, this is a stupid, alcohol-induced dream. Matter of fact, you should follow her on Twitter, if you're not already. @kanYebreast is her screen name.

Cut to a house, where myself & the unknown male are formulating a plan to stop Resha & Unc. All of a sudden...BLAM!!! The entire door frame to the house seemingly explodes. Unc is standing there, with a blank, but angry stare. He damn sure isn't smiling, like he does on the rice box. He's holding a machete'-like object in one hand, and a sledge hammer in the other.

We break out handguns, pump shotguns, automatic weapons, etc. None of these have the slightest effect on Unc. We avoid his sweeping swings of his weapons, and they demolish the room, as they miss. We finally maneuver our way to exiting the house, and Unc is locked on us, in pursuit.

We end up back in the downtown area, in one of the businesses. Unc kills everyone that is in his path, in the process of trying to get to us. Suddenly, he comes to a stop. We wonder why, but don't know how to approach to kill him. Resha comes through what used to be the storefront, and gives us her "Scooby Doo" speech.

The "Scooby Doo" speech is where the villain reveals why they're doing what they're doing. She didn't say "and I'd have gotten away with it, if it wasn't for you meddling kids". That's too bad of a cliche', even for this dream. Her reason: "This town is boring. It needed the fuckery."

Resha then sends Unc to "finish the job". She helps his cause (as if he needed it) by transferring souls of the dead into others, and even a couple of animals to try to corral us in.

In all the destruction, some electrical wires are exposed. One of the undead accidentally makes contact with one, and is killed again. This gives us the idea to electrocute them all, including Unc. We take out all the minions. Then we buy time to expose a big main wire.

We lure Unc into the "target area" and zap the cowboy shit out of him. Unc lays dead. We look over at Resha as if to say, "Your turn". She responds by laughing her ass off, like she was watching a Richard Pryor show for the 1st time. Resha sits in a chair, still laughing maniacally.

Out of the corner of my eye...yep. Unc begins to stir. Resha, in a final desperate act, is trying to transfer her own soul into Unc. We empty our weapons into her, hoping to kill her before the transfer is complete. Unc stops moving as Resha's last breath leaves her body.

Of course, as we bloodied & battered heroes leave the destruction & death behind, we hear another loud crash. Yep. Unc has risen. Resha got it done as she died. He comes after us again. Somehow, we rig up a car with 2 mannequins inside, to roll itself into a body of water. Unc follows, thinking it's us. Because he's so massive, Unc is unable to resurface.

Once again, we battle-weary heroes trudge & limp off into the sunset. Cut to the lake, or whatever it was. The water is as smooth as the surface of a mirror.

Until bubbles rise up...

Sounds like a sequel is on deck.

Hey, it was a dream. OK??? Aw, forget yall.