2009: A Year in Review

I'm so late on all types of news. Where was I when Van Jones was being skewered for no reason? fucking Glen Beck. People haven't put a hit on that dude yet? And where is this 9/11 Truth Petition so I can sign it? If you buy that a plane's entire fuselage embeds itself into the ground when shit that falls from space doesn't do that ... I got some swamp land for you. Why did Plaxico get 2 years for shooting HIMSELF? That's fucked up. What's the name of his lawyer? So, I'll know not to hire him. Cheney shot someone in the face with a shotgun and got an apology ... from the victim ... maybe if Plaxico would have apologized to himself. Many DUI fuckers get probation. Fucking Chris Brown wife beating ass got proby, Plaxico can't get proby and catch some passes? Racist as NY Post depicting Obama as a stimulus monkey. Then denying it. Take credit for your shenanigans, Post. Don't piss on me and tell me its raining. Don't fuck a 14 yr old & tell me its not you in the video R.Kelly. I'm not an idiot. I've seen cribs. Michael Jackson died. Really who didn't die this year? Heath Ledger couldn't have held on a year and died with everybody else in 2009? Tiger Woods is a sex fiend. Brittney Murphy liked too much coke or binging and purging, too soon to tell. Taylor Lautner took off his shirt one too many times and 30+ year old women everywhere became perverts. T.I. got out of jail early for good behavior. Weezy prepped to go in for bad. All in all an eventful year. You have to take the good with the bad. We all came out on the other side not being worse for wear. Let's make 2010 a little bit better.

Hate On Hater

I haven't experienced a case of haterade so very strong since the early 90s. I don't have time for the bullshit. You don't like me. Fine. Keep it moving. I wasn't bothering you. I left your insecure punk ass alone. I just stumbled across this Glee version. I'm not sure which one I like more. They are both quite excellent.

Zara ______ December 1 at 1:46am

Just when I thought I didn't have anything to blog about. Someone emails me this via facebook at one o'clock in the morning. Half of this shit, I don't know what she's talking about. The other half isn't even in the realm of reality. I'm not even going to bother clarifying which is which. Just read it as a good ole fashion piece of fiction. And word to the wise, don't email me arguments when all you have to do is pick up the phone. I show them to people ... to laugh ... because I'm mean. Living abroad and being an ex is your only pass on this issue. Fucking ridiculous. I hesitated to even post this, but then ole chick pushed me over the edge talking MORE bullshit after this. When will people learn? Oh well. [UPDATE: I'm taking the video out because it's random and a little extra mean, even for me. You don't need to know what she looks like, only that she is bat shit crazy. The letter stays untouched, warts and all.]

I just wanted to make a few things clear since i never did and it still bothers me.

First of all, when i met you, i really did like you. it was really fun hanging out with you and talking and drinking and doing all the things friends did with each other. i really felt that we would be friends for a long time, and that made me pretty happy. it really was a blast going out, or even hanging around your apartment and watching tv and just laughing. just laughing with you was one of the things i enjoyed the most. then something happened.

i felt that the more i got to know you, and the more comfortable we felt with each other the more you criticized me. I smoke, have for a long time, if you really cared and felt that you wanted me to stop because it is unhealthy then a conversation would have been acceptable. instead, you made snide remarks about me smelling or made a condescending look at me if i lit up. look, i'm an adult, and i make my own decisions. like i said before, if you felt concerned and had a talk with me i would respect that, but making those comments, or even gestures like waving your hand in your face or giving me gum or mints was just plain rude. i am not a child and you are not my mother. i didn't say anything because you can be quite intimidating and for my own personal reasons, i do not like confronting people i am close to because i don't like to lose relationships. i guess i lost the relationship this time because i didn't speak up.

i feel like besides the smoking thing you would criticize me on other things like my shoes or clothes. like i said, i am an adult, i don't need someone to constantly make judgments about the way i dress myself or the actions i take. one joke here and there but all the time? especially because i know if i had ever criticized even jokingly the things you wear, you would have a fit. i just know it. and i didn't because a) i didn't really think about it and b) i find it to be totally unnecessary.

You overreacted in a lot of situations and i felt that you were angry which in turn put me in an angry mood. you got way too mad about the casting situation with rodolfo and in fact caused a huge fight between the two of us. we got over it that night, but you were still angry. so much in fact, that you said some hurtful things to me like " i don't ever want to hear about him, not even his name, OR THE FUCKED UP SITUATION YOU GUYS HAVE." I mean, you really took it harsh. First of all, you were saying that "we were taking MONEY away from you" because your name is attached to the project. As i remembered correctly, you did offer your help, but I know for a fact that I never hired you as our casting director. How did it turn into that? You completely took control over that. Yes, i really do sincerely apologize that I put you in that position, but your reaction was completely out of line. It was just too much.

There are a few more situations that I can mention but to be honest, its just too much to list. I can't believe i've written this much already. But i think the last things that happened that really put me over the edge were: the noney thing, my relationship with jani and you coming to my house when you wanted to eat fish tacos. When you asked me for Noney's availability to shoot your project, you were extremely pushy. I felt like I was working for you but i wasn't. it seems to me when you are doing someone a favor that you should treat them a little more nicely than demanding someone else's work schedule. from the beginning you should have asked for her number, instead you somehow made me the middle man and got angry with me, yes angry, because i didn't find it out. Excuse me? how is that appropriate? it is not. The second thing was Jani. Why did you make claim to him? We became friends and thats that. If you and him are friends or are not friends it has absolutely nothing to do with me. Third, when you came over to have fish tacos. Well, this thing, is very minor, but it was just the needle to break the camel's back. i had only a few (literally) hours sleep. You came over to eat, i said i didn't have money but you came over anyway. You came and asked for lotion, which i never have and you got ANNOYED with me because i didn't have it?!?! then you made fun of my shoes and we went to eat. you got ANNOYED with me because i wore my sunglasses inside (even though i explained that i felt like shit and didn't want anyone to see me) and you didn't even offer to buy me a $1.50 fish taco even though you pulled me out of bed. Once out, you made a comment about how nasty it is that someone was smoking and i was just over it. I don't want negativity in my life. i want to be happy. i have enough of my own struggles and can't be around a judgmental person anymore.
Crystal, I know this may be difficult to read, but i really do have to say this, at least for my own sake. I feel that i've been holding onto this for so long. I really cared about you. And i fear that a lot of this hatred comes from insecurities. Listen, i get it. I have my own shit, and i know that it comes out in bad ways. But, there are certain things that are unacceptable and do push people away. For some reason you stopped talking to me, i don't remember doing anything to you, but i'm sure you have your reasons. I really hope that if there is something wrong that you do get better because i know you aren't just this mean person, i know that you can be caring. I really do hope that things get better and i really would want to be your friend in the future, but not a relationship like this anymore.

Thanks for reading and take care.


Ode to Jean Val Jean - Emmanuel Delcour

Dear Jean Val Jean:

We have only just met. I noticed your tardiness on Chef Academy as well as your sweet smile and nonchalance. With each passing indiscretion, you left your fellow classmates wondering who is this douchebag? But my feelings never wavered, you would never keep me waiting would you Jean Val Jean? But their annoyance of you caused them to goggle your birth name - Emmanuel Delcour and low and behold, the great Jean Val Jean was outed to the world. Porn Star Extraordinaire. How your presence has evaded me this long, I am uncertain, but it was destined that we should meet. I watch anything Bravo deigns to create. Your talents could only have gone unnoticed so long. Award winning adult star, great practitioner of analingus, body builder, graphic artist and fabulous chef. Beautiful, graceful ... who wouldn't want to take you home to mom? Hey mom, my baby daddy cooked, designed my website and one sheets, ran 5 miles and gave me 5 wicked orgasms today. What did you do today mom? Huh, what?

Oh Jean Val Jean, how you have my curiosities peaked. What is there to the art of analingus? Until today, I had never heard the word. It sounds so much nicer than tossing salad. How do you like your anus prepped? I imagine there is a bit of waxing and perhaps a spot of bleach. One doesn't want to stick a hairy two-toned sphincter in someone's face. That is just rude. What's your stance on enemas? Kills the spontaneity perhaps, but one doesn't want to catch hepatitis or pink eye for that matter. What flavors do you desire Jean Val Jean? Raspberry jam, caramel, white chocolate, lime sorbet? Might I suggest Nutella or would the color be off putting? Maybe you prefer the sweating, musky natural flavor (eau de female). Eureka, butterscotch. What's good enough for Chef Novelli is good enough for me. And as we're making sweet, sweet love (after the Quest Diagnostics full blood work up and a HPV vaccine (for you and me) - Thanks Dr. Drew for the heads up) please whisper those lovely words into my ear in that heavy French accent ... "no comment". Aw, i melt, i die, i melt.

Top 16 Types of Family Members to Complete Your Family Tree

16. The Nomad -- graduated from highschool and never came back, has lived in foreign countries and all over the U.S.

15. The Trailblazer -- first do anything, first to leave hometown, first to go to college, first to own a home, first on the moon.

14. The Mooch -- always wanting to "hold" some money.

13. The Braggart -- will hold a press conference to show you their new whatever, always wants to tell you how much things cost

12. The Hater -- doesn't like to see ANYONE do well, won't wish anyone well

11. The Cook -- everyone wants to gather/eat at their house. Good food/good hospitality.

10. The Nerd -- smarter than everyone else, either flaunts it obnoxiously or hides it/is embarrassed by this fact (or by your ineptitude)

9. The Brat -- spoiled & entitled beyond belief, truly to the point of delusions of grandeur about their own self importance.

8. The Town Cryer -- can't hold water. Your secret is everyone's business. General gossipness, nosiness and malaise.

7. The Straight Arrow -- good credit, sound business/life advise. generally accompanied /w a superior attitude & i told you sos

6. The Halfzie -- Take ur pick on the mix,noone is racially pure. Halfzies are either gorgeous or ugly 50/50 split.Identity crisis 2 follow.

5. The Gay -- homosesuAL or lesbo, this person has been outright or suspected of or well hidden gay since birth. Get over it.

4. The Law -- this person gravitates toward rules (if only to break them): i.e. Po-lice, lawyer, FBI, CIA, MP, Firefighter

3. Bat Shit Crazy -- nonfunctional semi-homeless,severe emotional problems, may or may not have been assaulted in youth,general nonsequitors

2. Looney Tunes -- functioning crazy, bipolar/depressed, heavily medicated, overly sensitive, general nuts, but still works/drives

1. The Jailbird -- in/out of jail habitully,may or maynot be violent,genius or stupid, always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time

Real Housewives of Late Night.

Kids Cry Blood, Are Not Superheroes (Yet)

Kids Cry Blood, Are Not Superheroes (Yet)

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Chris Brown on Larry King

Liar liar pants on fire.

Top 5 Acceptable First Date Topics

1. Where you are from/Funny childhood stories -- nothing makes an asshole endearing like a tongue stuck on an icy flagpole story

2. Jobs - What do you do? What do you want to do in the future? Etc,but keep it light &interesting.Don't bore folks with Quantum Mechanics

3. Sports -- only if both parties are interested. No dates in a sports bar though. Who do yall men think you are fooling.

4. Entertainment - Music/Movies/TV/Books -- you know that thing with pages and words, that's a book

5. What you like to do for fun - please have this list expanded past dinner and a movie

Jesus' Facebook Page

These fake facebook pages have been popping up all over the web and I thought I would post one of the funny ones.

Jesus' Facebook Profile -

Chef Gwyneth Paltrow Roasts Your Chicken

Yes, I do like my A-List celebrities to distribute their own cooking videos. This is not weird at all. Next stop, Celebrity Vet with Brad Pitt and Maddox. Apparently Goop is a website where she shares her recipes and perspective on life. I don't really know what. I haven't explored it yet for reals.

Joe Jackson: Patriarch or Domestic Terrorist

Is this dude for real? First of all its not 1975. I don't know how many times I can be called a jive turkey and not start rolling around on the floor laughing. And who segways into slavery as a reference point for child rearing? What is he talking about? I tell you who needs his own reality show, its not Terrell Owens, or the Gosselin twins or even Paris, Prince & Blanket Jackson: it's Papa Joe. Then we can really see what's what.

Chris Brown Faux-pology

This is Chris Brown's "heartfelt" apology he issued to get his career back on track. There is no doubt in my mind that this jackass is not sorry and would have continued on this behavior if he had not been so publicly caught. Only time will tell if he is truly done laying hands on women. I sincerely hope that I am wrong.

Michael Jackson Pepsi Commercial

Infamous commercial where Michael Jackson's hair caught afire. This is horrible.

Happy Birthday

Short Film I did a million years ago.

A man's smart mouth gets him a beat down for his birthday. On the eve of his next birthday, he hilariously tries to avoid conflict to no available. Happy Birthday chump. How about a knuckle sandwich? What's in the box? Directed by Crystal Holt

Starring Steve Best, Caitlin Emmons, Nathan Caan, Kevin Hope & Brad Stevens.

Nyle -- Let the Beat Build

Check this guy Nyle out. @Talib-TIRM hipped me to him. You can follow him on Twitter for all your hip hop needs. This video is awesome and the build is magnificent.

Eminem's Beautiful Video

Ode to Detroit

Michael Jackson's Last Rehearsal Footage

Too soon. Taken too soon!

Drake's Video for Best I Ever Had

Get out your cereal cause here comes the milk.

Big Mouth

Nobody likes a big mouth, well men like a big mouthed woman -- I never quite understood that until I realized that men see your mouth as a resting place for their penis. All I see is soup coolers and huge chompers -- the last place I would think a penis would want to go, but whatevs. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about gossips. Nobody likes a gossip whore. If we're traveling in the same circle and one of our friends is telling me MY OWN business before I've gotten the chance to tell the story ... we got a problem. If I'm in the middle of a business tiff with someone and a third party comes up to me "covertly" asking if everything is alright, we've got a problem. I know that it is you. I have asked you not to behave in this fashion and that I do not appreciate it. We shall see if this damn that is your mouth will hold, otherwise, I will have to adjust. That is all. Good day sir.

Michael Jackson Dead at 50

Michael Jackson died of a heart attack yesterday @ approximately 3 p.m. in Los Angeles. The world wept. He was a lot of different things to all of us, but there is no denying his talent and his legacy. He will live in our hearts and minds until our end of days. Jackson defined and shaped my adolescence (and millions more) through his music. He will be greatly missed. Our condolences go out to his family and loved ones. It will surely come to light on why the King of Pop was taken from us so young. I hope he is in a better place. Rest in Peace Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson YouTube Channel

Michael Jackson Playlist

911 Call

Fairy Tale Generator

I stumpled upon a Fairytale Generator. You click random boxes and it gives you a story. Enjoy.

The Mouth in the Mountain

I stepped outside with father's boots on, feeling the heaviness of his feet in mine. The people in my country's soil then clawed into his boots and pulled me down until I could no longer breathe in anything but dense thick soil and earthworm particles traveling into my mouth. The spirits of my land traveled through me as well. They drifted in and out of my body, trading places and laughing, laughing at me and my sad predicament.

She stood tall and menacing in her fire-infused robes. "Where are you from," her tongue flickered when she spoke, "and where do you think you are going?"

When I turned around seeking an open pathway, I was surprised to find that the stream surrounded me on all sides. The serpent from across the way beckoned me with his tongue, unfurling it out over the water. The tongue almost touched my shoes "If you need to get across, walk over on this. But please walk gently, for if you don't you may slide and fall off, and no one will ever find you again."

The men of the earth hungered for my people's flesh. If I did not provide them with a sacrifice to abate their sorrows, they would take my body and walk amongst my people like one of the undead. They would find ways to sip their lives into their own empty souls.

I fled, I fled so fast that my feet did not feel the ground. Instead they chafed the cold breeze as my heels vibrated like wings of locusts and dragonflies.

When the people of the soil touched my feet they fell back into the ground with shrieks and cries. Now I could reach the top of the mountain without fear of falling down.
As I approached the top of the mountain a white spectacle blinded me for an instant. When I blinked again I saw a white dragon shifting over the mountain like a layer of foam riding ocean waves. I could tell by its movement that it was a territorial creature; I could tell that it would fight me before allowing me to press further.

Before I entered my home my brothers came out, and, thinking I was a peddler, asked how much the jade I carried was worth.

My lying brothers cried when they were forced to walk on the ground without their leather bottomed shoes. I watched as they, like my father had once, were swallowed by the ground and mouths hungry for stinking flesh.

I was offered a place in the palace, but I could not accept. I wanted to be with the mountain; I felt it move under my skin as I knew part of me was in the mountain too.

That was mine, try your own.

Drake Fever

Are we about to catch Drake fever? This Canadian import was on stage with Weezy back in March only to be a headliner in this upcoming tour with Wayne, Young Jeezy and Soulja Boy Tell Em. He's on stage with Jamie Foxx on Conan. He's one of Rihanna's rumored paramours. His song Best I Ever Had is blowing up the radio. He's one of the FEW proven people who can rap AND sing ... T-Pain, sorry dude ... I don't place you in this category. He's hot AND he's the one thing Weezy is not ... TALL. And if you've ever seen Degrassi High: The Next Generation, you already know him. And with Chris Brown having vacated the spotlight amid that colosal scandal, America is in need of new light skinned brotha. Let's hope this boy knows how to keep his hands to himself.

Decade of Dong

What is it about exposed vagina that is so sexual? More importantly what is it about exposed penis that is so funny. More and more actors going for the full frontal in comedies for the laugh (Viva Judd Apatow). I went to a screening of the film Couples Retreat last night and Carlos Ponce (a very buff version of Lindsay Price's contractor boyfriend in Lipstick Jungle) played a yoga instructor that rocked some wicked shiny speedos that didn't leave you wondering whether or not he is circumcised. Then he proceeded to hump every member of the cast -- literally. At one point, his genitalia was placed repeatedly on one of the actresses spread eagle style vagina. Just imagine if you had a sandwich (penis) that was wrapped in a napkin (speedo) and you placed that sandwich on the counter (vagina). Okay, now pick up that sandwich ... then place it on the counter again ... and pick it up ... then put it down ... then pick it up .... now put it down. Now blow up that image in your head up 1000%. Now, you're in the ball park of what I'm talking about. I shutter to think what we'll find funny in 2020 ... insertion shots. Guffaw, guffaw! If Couples Retreat were a Judd Apatow film, we would have seen Faison Love from the front. More cock never hurt anybody

BEP: Hip Hop or Hip Not?

Are the Black Eyed Peas still considered hip hop? Should they be? I know they were back in the 90s BEFORE Fergie joined the group. But can they still claim that title? Is having minority members and having a hip hop lineage enough for you to still be claiming and repping the genre? I think they have gone past straddling the fence, melding genres and crossing over. I think they have hurdled the fence and now strickly reside in pop land. There isn't anything wrong with that, but lets call a spade a fucking spade.

Eminem @ the MTV Movie Awards

Was it me or did Eminem look like a wounded animal during his performance at the 2009 MTV Movie Awards. Gone is the temperamental brat with the swagger. He is but a shell of a man now. And I believe he was lip singing. And he looked petrified. Could that cap get any lower on his head? He's still not 100%. That's okay, Em, we'll wait.

Oh Yeah, Sacha Baron Cohen put his butt in Em's face. What kind of stunt was that? Remember when Em didn't pull publicity stunts. Remember when his fuse was short and his personality garnered all the press one would ever need. What's up with signing up to have Borat's ass in your face voluntarily. What is that? For a rapper? Strange. Very, very strange.

Spectacular ... ly Gay

Why does the dude I like from Pretty Ricky gotta be making half nekked videos grinding, calling out grown dudes about his superior grinding skills. What kind of gay jr. high school challenge is that? Hopefully he was drunk when he posted this. I'm going to chalk this up to their lack of education. Did he not realize the backlash of this absurd post was going to be severe and skew in this direction. Wow, I can really pick em can't I.

check it out here.

The Purple One

Okay. So, I should haven't written this like 2 months ago, but whatevs. Yall know I was making my thesis. Anyway, I went to the Prince concert in LA. I hate LA. So, of course the tickets were like $100+ because it's fricking Prince. I'm game. This should weed out the non-believers, right? Nope! This is LA, the land of the rich. A sold out concert where tickets went all the way up to 350-400 bucks was chocked full of posers - folks that didn't know a Prince song from a hole in the wall. I personally think if you only the chorus to Purple Rain, stay your ass at home. But it rocked it out. There was some technical difficulties with the sound at the Nokia Theater (I hear that happens a lot at that venue), and like the true diva he is, he was telling the venue sound personnel how to adjust the sound DURING the concert ... because that's how finely tuned his ear is. I love Prince. He could still get it.

Ode to the Nice Guys

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal (UPENN)

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

Radio Bastards!

There is no such thing as payola and if you believe that i have some fabulous swamp land you should purchase and build your house upon. Aparently at 2 o'clock everyday, KIIS FM or Power 106, I can't remember which because these days they sound exactly the same, plays new music ... everyday. So, all that good shit, that fabulous shit, that shit they should be playing, that shit you should be bumping, that new shit, that different shit, that underexposed shit, that underrated shit, that shit you ain't never heard before, that shit you ain't gon hear the rest of the day, all that shit is playing everyday at 2, while you're at work ... working ... or pretending to. The rest of the day they play the same 12 hot garbage ass songs to death. I am convinced this is one of the signs for the end of the world.

Eminem Sux!!!!

I was waiting for the comeback, but man I don't fucking know. He has released 2 singles and they are BOTH garbage. Now if I listen to the album and there is a track or 2 that is still fire, I might retract ... NO I WON'T!! Time is out for the old bait and switch. The let me release some garbage with a hook to get the folks that don't really like rap. After all this time, you're just releasing junk, junking up the airwaves. Boo to you, sir. Shame on you for squandering a talent others would kill for on that trivel you dare call music. A pox on your houses. You have just written your obituary. Your reign is now declared over. You have been removed from Mount Rapmore. I hope you're happy.


Folks is sleeping on Mims.  I bet only fricking LA is sleeping on Mims.  I bet NYC is pumping this Move song 24/7.  Mims has the rapping chops of Eminem and Kanye and the lyrical content of Nas meets Blackthought meets Lupe Fiasco.  But they not giving him no play on the radio.  I hear this song every once in a while.  It's too much gentrification on the radio.  How come they playing bullshit ass Poker Face on the black station (WTF?) every 30 seconds and I can't get no Mims Move?  What is the world coming to?  There is nothing wrong with segregated radio.  Nothing.  

What the Fuck Happened to Outkast?

What the fuck happened to Outkast? Dem down south mofos? Those anthem creators, those car bangers. Where them songs at? I'm listening to The Whole World right now and it just ain't the same as "me & you, yo mama and yo cousin too" or "don't you think I'm so sexy, I'm dressed so fresh so clean" or " if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit everybody let me hear you say oh yeayer!" They just went and got too weird and too P Funk or something. I guess Andre 3000 thought he was Ceelo. But what folks don't realize is Ceelo was ALWAYS that weird. Andre 3000 grew into being weird. It just isn't the same. I want my old Outkast back. Man am I kicking myself for not having gone to an Outkast concert before 2000. I ain't saying that folks can't grow, but grow into something good, grow into something better than you were, grow into something I actually want to listen to.

Poker Her What?

If I hear Pokerface one more time, I'm going to murder someone and I just might be first on the list. I HATE THIS SONG!!!!!!!!!!!! It is so stupid. This chick is actually a classically trained musician who (though I have yet to see this) has talent to spare. But apparently there is no accounting for taste and/or lyrically content. I'm calling radio silence until they put some real shit on the air.

Flo Rida's Music is an Abomination!!!!

Flo Rida has apparently created a new genre of rap/pop (i used to think that pop/rock was a genre because in the record store they lumped pop and rock together. they should have just called it the white people section). I'm going to crown Flo Rida the king of this blasphemous cancerous freak of nature. How do you get rap / pop, you ask? Well, you take a hard core looking black dude from the hood with actual MC skills and you slather a sugary sweet cross over hook sung exclusively by white white women (and/or white sounding black chicks), steal hooks from the 80s and voila, you have radio garbage. Enjoy having your ears bleed.

Everything I Learned, I Learned from Anime

I shall not take credit for this. I found this on the interweb and thought it was funny.

War sucks.
You CAN have too many women.
Smart people wear glasses.
Music foreshadows plot.
The less you care about sex, the more opportunities you'll get.
(Inversely, the harder you try, the less you'll get.)
When you die, make a long speech, and don't finish the last sentence.
Snow means love.
The best teams come in fives.
In space, you can hear everything.
There's always room for flashbacks!
When in China, listen to your tour guide.
The good guy always has the BLUE glow.
Speak quietly, pilot a big mech.
Believe in goddesses.
Teachers have excellent aim with small objects.
Vengeance with a mallet is the sweetest revenge of all.
Honor is sexy; villainy is irresistible.
Women are attracted to losers; men are attracted to ANYTHING.
The coolest weapon is still the sword.
The hero is never really mad until they hurt his girlfriend.
Female androids are sexy; male androids are....male androids.
The green-haired alien girl will always betray her people for the man she loves.
School uniforms are cool only when the collar is open.
A show without sexual tension isn't worth watching.
Love knows no race, species, or logic.
If it's homemade but tastes bad, grin and bury it (discreetly).
Never trust a huge corporation.
Romance never comes simpler than in a triangle.
Never fall for the girl who names her mech with a French name.
Never fall in love with a psychic.
You can never have too much hair.
Sweating is a sure sign of stress.
Daydreaming leads to accidents.
Everyone wants to conquer Japan.
The cute, fuzzy creature isn't what it seems.
Cherry blossoms mean nostalgia.
Always take gravity into account.
Settings and faces are self-generating.
Losing your temper can be therapeutic.
There's nothing sexier than high heels on a mech.
You can never have too many subplots.
If she sings, she's doomed.
You always remember the sad endings.
Double suicide is romantic.
Outrageous vehicles only make the hero cooler.
Nothing delays romance like unruly neighbors.
Fancy ice cream is for girls only.
The most virtuous character will die.
Hot water has innumerable benefits.
No matter how much blood is lost, no one can die by a nosebleed.
(The same theory above applies to vomiting.)
The girl with the curly hair is always the seductress.
If a sister falls in love with her brother, somewhere down the line you will discover that they're not blood related.
The guy in the baseball cap is always more powerful than he seems.
All demons/monsters have enormous genitalia.
All young children can pilot mecha, you just need to give them a few days.
It is possible to incorporate martial arts into any aspect of life.
All high school kids in Japan have parents that are away on extended business trips.
The oldest sister is the nice one, the youngest sister is the brash one.
You can do anything to the human body as long as you hit the right pressure point.
Consuming enormous amounts of alcohol daily will never have ill effects.
All major villains either want to take over the world or blow it up.
When someone paints up their face, they mean business.
Everyone in Japan has excellent singing voices.
No matter how many times you rebuild, Tokyo keeps getting destroyed in a massive fireball.
The martial arts expert is always defenseless against a slap from the girl who loves him.
TAKAHASHI'S LAW 1: Food is a powerful motivator.
When women are sent out to fight the bad guys, there's always a hunk busily watching over them, often in secret.
The longer it takes to say what your punch is called, the less effective it is.
"Baka" does not mean a student going for his baccalaureate degree.
The more possessive a woman gets, the less likely she will end up with the man of her dreams.
TAKAHASHI'S LAW 2: The two-foot-tall old geezer is someone to be feared.
No matter how big the mech/labor/mobile suit is, if it runs around the corner, the guy chasing it loses the trail.
Extraterrestrial, demons, time travelers, etc. all want to alter the course of history by letting Oda Nobunaga win.
The fate of the planet rests in the hands of the seemingly normal high school student.
The heroine must shred her clothes while transforming into something to fight the bad guys.
True evil can never be destroyed, only banished to some nether realm where it awakes after a few hundred years.
TAKAHASHI'S LAW 3: When being hit on the head, it's the most natural thing in the world to tuck your third and fourth fingers in while keeping the others extended.
Even the bravest souls can be made weak and helpless by the sight of a cute little puppy or kitten.
Never love a Gundam pilot : you're just destined for disappointment (or a funeral).
All persons under the age of 50 can do a ten foot vertical jump from a standing position.
Never trust a guy with shiny teeth
ESP causes more trouble than it solves
The vampire isn't _always_ the bad guy
Nice things can come out of video stores that appear from nowhere
Idiot captains win battles against impossible odds
Order takeout at every opportunity--you might get lucky with a wrong number.
The police are never anywhere there is a large amount of property damage.
All high school principals in Japan are clinically insane.
All people with esper powers give off multicolored auras.
Just about any outer space villain has his sights set on destroying the Earth.
(in conjunction with #92) No other planet in the universe will be able to stop said villain except the Earth.
Any character can make a leap of 300 ft or more if given a good running start.
A samurai sword can cut through anything.
All characters over the age of 60 shrink in height in direct proportion to their age.
When uncovering a fabulous treasure, the thing will be large enough to completely destroy any surrounding structures.
TAKAHASHI'S LAW #4: An anti-climax is a good climax.
Anime villians have the best deaths.
Any love interest will always be possesed by a demon.
Mallets can be stored anywhere on anybody.
If the anime has the word "idol" in the title, then you know that it has to be good.
Takada Yumi really does sing that bad, and people still buy her CDs.
If you make enough porno movies, eventually you can get famous enough to star in commercials. "Iijima Ai desu! 'Manga manga no mori mori!!'"
There is no such thing as a public anime showing without heckling.
You can spot how popular a show is by looking at the number of H doujinshi it has.
The smartest people on r.a.a. never post, which is why the conference's overall IQ is so low.
If the lyrics to the OP song are printed on the screen, then you're watching a show that's not for your age group.
The sexiest girls are drawn by artists whose last names start with "U".
The English words in Jpop songs are put there only because they sound good, since they don't make any sense with the rest of the lyrics.
If you post on the MLs more than Hitoshi does, then you probably post too much.
The hero always loses the first fight with a new enemy.
The guys with two earrings are from the Negaverse.
Don't trust the guys with two earrings.
Any truly evil person who changes sides for the woman he loves will die in that episode.
You CAN do it, but only when it's funny or REALLY important.
You can never have too many carrots.
Hair comes in every shade of the rainbow - and we do mean pink, purple, blue, green....
The song "Cry Me a River" takes on a whole new meaning.

Other Folks Men

Now, I tried to hold this in as long as I can, but I just can't.  What is it about a single woman with male friends that puts a girlfriend or a wife on edge.  I don't want your man.  I've known him since we were 13.  That would be like having sex with my cousin.  Gross!  If I had fucked him before, I would see why you would have pause, but I haven't.  So, what's the big deal.  Sure, we connect on a philosophical level that yall don't.  Sure, we don't have the baggage that sex and relationships (and in some cases infidelity and/or veneral diseases) bring to the table.  We don't have the hang ups and the obstacles to overcome.  So stop hating on me. Stop trying to hook me up with your wack ass cousin or some random dude I'm standing next to in the club JUST to make sure I'm not trying to make on you man.  I don't see him like that.  All me and him have is fun, laughs and debate ... oh, I see how you would be jealous of that.  Still not fucking him though, still not.

Nigga, Please!!!!

Okay, I'm not going to name names, but this has been happening to me lately.   Old dudes, that I used to have crushes on and maybe we're still friends today and all the sudden ... what type of dude you like and blah, blah, blah.  Oh, you describing me.  No, in the hell I'm not.  Do you hear the shit I talk about that's not you?  The ambition, the financial security, the lust for life, the road dogness, loves to travel, loves to drive, can take them anywhere, same sex/freak level, bring the passion out of you, good debater, wants kids, a committed relationship, a cohort, etc, etc.  I know you heard the shit on that list that does describe you.  Do you hear the shit that doesn't?  That's stuff is a deal breaker.  Get over yourself.  No body is daydreaming about reuniting with your punk ass.  

Welching Bitches!!!!!!!!!

Fuck it. I'm going to vent. My cousin is bat shit crazy. That's right, guano. See ,I wanted to go to this Lil Wayne concert that they added last minute and tickets were going on sale at a time that I would be in the middle of a road trip. So, I asked my cousin to buy the tickets for me. I gave her my credit card and she agreed. So, I said "I would ask you to go, but you don't like Lil Wayne." Her response and I QUOTE was, "Oh, I like Lil Wayne." I was like cool, get two tickets. How much do they cost? So, we're pricing it out. I'm like what tickets do you want to get, the $55 or the $95. She says, "Oh, it doesn't matter to me." That should have been my first clue right there that something wasn't right. So, to make a long story short. When I asked for her money for her ticket, she feigned ignorance and indignation. "I didn't say I wanted to go see Lil Wayne. I would never agree to go see Lil Wayne ... blah, blah, blah, I'm bat shit crazy, buy the tickets yourself next time." This was not even 24 hours later. I have (and many others who have told this story to with awe and hilarity) come to this conclusion. She was all rets to go when she thought I was paying for the tickets. Sure pay $200 you don't have to take me to see someone I don't even like. Is this chick for real? What are we dating? Fucking? What are we West Virginian extras in Deliverance? Why would I take her anywhere except out of desperation because everyone else on earth I would possibly want to go with has gone out and gotten themselves a fucking life? And why would I pay for the pleasure ... especially already knowing she doesn't like the artist? It would be different if she wasn't the biggest wet blanket since Hurricane Katrina. I'm trying my damnedest not to write folks off, but bitches make it hard.

The Real Alamo?

On Friday, I'm going to San Antonio, TX to visit my friend Winkler for his 30th birthday on a party/trip I kind of forced on him, but he gladly accepted.  Because when I celebrate my friend's 30th birthdays its like celebrating my own.  So, who-hoo!!!  I'm also going to see my best friend from college Abasi!   Abasi is my dude.  My road dog.  He's that dude that you can say, lets go to Spain on Friday and Abasi is already pulling out his passport asking what time the plane leave.  We are going to share a room and there will absolutely be no hanky panky going on because we are too good and too grown and too damn old to fuck up our friendship, but what I envision will be splendid.  See, we used to spend damn near 24/7 together in college (living in the same dorm on the same floor).  So, I'm trying to rekindle the 19 year old flame.  I'm talking Snoopy pajamas and Purple Rain.  I'm talking jumping up and down on the bed and cranking the music up loud.  I'm talking booze and jokes and silliness.   I'm talking a SLUMBER PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!!

East Boogie

Here's a little send up to where I'm from (East St Louis, Il). You gotta represent. This list was started by Qwonny (1-23) that added to by Brad Reed (24-31) then by me (32-44).

"This is for the true E.Saint Louisans." Qwonthafia Cofield

You're know you're from East St. Louis if ................................................................

1. You eat a "st. paul" sandwich from the "rice house"

1a. If you call a chinese restaurant the "rice house"

2. You used to got the skating rink [Skate King]

3. You have been to an East side game and they were fighting players from Cahokia

4.You've had some chicken wings from the rice house.

5. You used to go to Club 64 before the Mono and Casino

6. You have caught the metro link from the JJK or Washington Park station to go to the St. Claim mall

7. You have bought shoes or clothes from Hoods Lot

8. You remember when Bill Clinton came and talked in front of Walgreens

9. You have been at McDonals late night, and you were in line for about an hour

10. You visited E. Saitn recently and said about time it is starting to look like something

11. You have caught the #1 State Street bus of the #4 Alta Sita bus

12. You are tired of the Rio getting burned down

13. You used to go to Lincoln Park every Sunday

14. You used to hang out at Schnuck's parking lot on the weekend

15. You used to go to Fair St. Louis on the landing on the Fourth

16. You have been to Six Flags with Ms. Hopkins from Clark

17. You remember when Yvette Young was Lansdowne Middle School

18. Somebody you knew have been killed because of jealousy and project conflict

19. Somebody you know has been in a Nelly or Chingy video

20. You think people from Washington Park are too hood.

21. You have witnessed many St. Louis Jimmies get whooped in the club

22. You know that E. Saint Louis is in Illinois and St. Louis is in Missouri

23. You have to keep defending your town because of haters

24. You knew the East Side vs Lincoln games were the social events of the year.

25. You knew that the prison used to Assumption High School

26. Your main source of news was the Monitor

27. If you got the hookup on your license from Art May

28. If you've ever had Nero's pizza

29. You've had to explain to someone what a snoot (from Sandy's BBQ) was

30. You knew damn well not to be in Belleville or Granite City [or Cahokia] after dark

31. You were a regular in the Pink Slip

32. You know to slow down on St. Clair before you go under the train tracks cause the po-po be waiting there with your speeding ticket.

33. You have friends/family in prison (not county)

34. You've ever personally seen a dead body on the street that wasn't on TV

35. You know someone that was murdered.

36. You know people who are way smarter than you that just didn't quite make it out of the hood

37. If you go to the Illusion for the shrimp

38. If you know what Red Fox is

39. If you grew up on Pertle's Ice Cream (best ice cream eva!)

40. If you still think Dunbar is the best elementary school eva!

41. If you're still a little sad that Lincoln isn't a highschool anymore because you would never be a fricking Flyer as long as you fricking live.

42. If everytime you go home, someone else you grew up with is dead.

43. If you remember when the levies broke.

44. If you know that Crab Rangoon has the cream cheese and wontons have meat (what is the rest of the nation smoking on this one)

45. You think Young's on 23rd St has the best chinese food on the planet.

46. You know who Boss Man is

47. If (even half asleep) you can hear gunshots and tell how far away the person who is shooting is.

48. If you don't think selling drugs a big deal

49. You think everyone that went to Crossroads is kind of snooty

50. You think there is absolutely nothing wrong with being from East St Louis


I saw NERD Saturday and it was awesome!!!! Well, standing out in the cold and rain at UC Riverside for 3 hours with a bunch entitled (surprisingly overweight) and assimilated teenagers wasn't exactly my idea of fun, but as soon as Pharrell and Shae and some unidentified black man who definitely wasn't Chad step on stage, jumping up and down screaming Anti-Matter, it was all to the goody-good. This is my 3rd time seeing them and they just keep getting better and better. The first time I saw them in St. Louis at an Ampitheater, Pharrell stage dived without a shirt. Nice. The second time I saw them in Chicago at the Riveria, the Black Eyed Peas opened and rocked it, and they came on and rocked it even harder like BOOYAH! We got to meet them after the show (3 black girls in a sea of Asians) and he asked me if I wanted a hug. Is he for real for real? Pharrell for real? Hells' yeah if you're offering. And he gave me and my friend's hugs which he did not do for anyone else. This last time in Riverside (about an hour outside of L.A.) He was pulling chicks on stage, jumping around and singing on key like real performers are won't to do. A great time was had by all.

Chris Brown Snaps and Slaps a Bitch? That Ain't Right.

Can't a lady give her man an STD without receiving a beatdown. Well, I guess not. We'll never really know why Chris Brown decided to dot Rhianna's eye, but that ain't right. He's going to pay for it, too - through lost endorsements, revenue, respect ... jail time. Chris Brown is not a rapper or an actor (Wesley Snipes) or an athelete (Dennis Rodman / David Justice). Will is career survive this? And so what Rhi Rhi gave you the clap. You was probably cheating on her anyways. And just because you used condoms and apparently she didn't that one odd time she decided to get back at you doesn't mean you get to pull an Ike Turner. That ain't right. I'm betting you just made a whole lotta music heavy weights mad, not too mention some rude boys. You better hope her cousins don't find your ass. I don't see anyone speaking up to be on your side on this one cuz. That shit just ain't right.

I Loved All My Hoes

My friend told me that I have a habit of sleeping with my friends. That's not entirely true! I only slept with the ones that would have me. For the record, there is only one that wouldn't and even he tried to resend that offer. But alas, IT IS TOO LATE!! That boat has sailed! On to greener pastures and the like. When I go off to marry Pharrell and have little Williams babies and he produces the songs I write, my first will be about how much I loved ALL my hoes. That's right. I loved all of them. That bowlegged, 1st grade, puppy love, see you in the supermarket, longed for you from afar muther, yeah, damn right I loved him. That move to Atlanta and get a gold tooth, run up your mother's long distance phone bill late night phone sex, show up unannounced at Christmas mofo, yeah, I loved him. That knuckle head unfocused loser that I corrupted in heathen delights that tore my heart out and put it in a blender that flunked out of U of I because class interrupted with his internet porn schedule, yup I loved him too. That sophomore I molested and abused and led on and left lying alone in my bed when I wandered off into the hallway bored after 5 minutes, naw I didn't love him (but I feel bad ... way ... way down deep). That big football playing mutherfucka that followed me around like a puppy dog and fucked everything that moved and talked with that country twang and somehow always seemed to be on an impromptu road trip, yep I loved him too. That smooth faced pretty boy Arion called Gnat King Cole (Why? LMFAO, nunya fucking business) that taught me the round and round, I loved him too. That blue eyed devil with the chip on his shoulder that gave me that gift I quickly returned, yep, I loved him too. That life altering mofo that got under my skin and into my head and pissed on my soul and turned me out, yeah, I loved that bastard, too. That colleague, that commiserating, philosophizing genius cheating sense of wonder, starer into your essence cuckold, yeah, I loved him too. That road dog, ace boon coon, laugh a minute, same wave length sarcastic asshole intellectual reformed drug dealer twin, yeah, I loved and truly miss him. That gorgeous, great kisser, what kind of underwear you got on, big secret having, everyone instantly falls in love with him mofo, yeah, I still love him. That Latino, let me touch your boobies, drool from across the room G.I. Joe mofo, yeah, I love him. That tall drink of cornfed Kansas water that drunkenly peed on all my DVDs thinking he was in the bathroom, that slow stroking mofo, yeah, I loved him too. That half black, half Korean mofo that only dated Korean chicks until I got my hands on him, I loved that muther to death all night long. That chocolate gigolo that was TOO good in bed and called out orders like a football coach and flipped and turned and drilled you like an experienced oil rigging ballroom dancer, sure, I gave him some love, too. That all state track star that spread them rumors about how I ride you into the sunset, yep I loved him too - well as much as you can love someone you want to shank to death. I loves me all my hoes. Don't lets nobodies tells ya different. Word to your mummyfucker.

Follow the Leader

Janie always reeks of Marlboro Ultra Lights and juicy fruit. Pirouetting through the hustle of people in the lobby like they’re cars on the freeway, she comes to the bank of mailboxes, kisses her fist to the one marked J. Ascher, enticing it to open. One … two … three hits and it pops ajar – the thighs of an anxious virgin. She licks her bloodied busted knuckle and smiles.

Help me to the door deary shit breath Delores Kravitz from 4B whispered as she passed all sugary politeness and poison apple, and Janice was off to usher the craggedy old hag to the revolving wheel of death. Digging for gold in her delicate nostrils, Janie finds the appropriate trinket for the occasion and ceremoniously adorns it on the nappy sweater of the unsuspecting Delores. Loading her into a stall, Janie pushes the door forward enough to trap her halfway in the building and halfway out and backs away aLL chuckles and sinister delight.

Halitosis Delores stands there for a minute with all her bags ready to go. She turns around and starts tapping on the door like a Jehovah witness when she realizes her neighbor left her there to starve. Janie pop locks her way back to the door-challenged woman – this … all a part of her plan.

She gets in the adjoining cell, pauses to crack her knuckles and starts pushing the door like a frenzied older sibling trying to get their little brother to fly off the merry-go-round. Delores ejects onto the street all cartwheels and flowery bloomers. Janie meets her on the street with fervor. Waving her arms in the air and jumping up and down in her orange Tuned Air Nikes like this should have been the best time of doo-doo breath Kravitz’ life.

Delores grimaces in her face like she has just escaped a carnival ride gone wrong and is trying to politely decline a second go round. She gives Janie a twenty to never be in the same vicinity as her ever again. Janie snatches the twenty, French kisses the woman on the cheek and skulks back into the lobby, head down and hands in pocket like she’s sane after all.

She’s passing me by before I can pretend I wasn’t laughing. Standing in the shadows like a pedophile, I say a little prayer of thanks to have caught a whiff of her shower clean Degree as she discos to the elevator door. Adorned in low-slung khakis with tattered cuffs and an orange sleeveless tee that says Smell the Magic, she digs her drawers out of her ass and karate kicks the elevator button. She doesn’t even glance in my direction as I enter after her not uttering a sound.

I stand in the corner like a kid in time out and she pushes the button for my floor before pushing her own. She knows where I belong. My naked feet twist on the floor as my nipples get hard from the air conditioning. My mind wanders to times of her mouth being the reason my everything got hard. She pops her gum as the mechanical elevator whore tells me it’s the sixth floor. I slink toward my apartment like a dog who’s been caught diddling on the carpet. She fingers the phoenix dragon tattoo on her left deltoid as the doors close.

I rub my bare belly and close the door. I slide to the floor realizing my anger is hardening my erection. I beat off like a guilty thirteen-year-old, like a death row inmate thinking of his mother. The gut-wrenching hysteria seizes my abs before the tears come. I lie on the floor like a toddler after a spanking, watching the little TV across the way. My direct feed into the seventh floor. My only link to her world.

She grabs her billfold off the end table by the door. The end table that took me two months to carve and perfect only for her to tell me it was ugly. She hooks her wallet to her belt loop via a long chain. It’s only after she grabs her navy hooded zippered sweat jacket that I realize she’s leaving.

I pop off the floor like someone who forgot to cash a winning lottery ticket. I wipe my cum on a palm frond and scramble for my boots and a shirt. My jeans rip on the replacement end table she sat on my stoop as a mock peace offering. I knock the piece of shit table to the ground. I see her stare at the floor on my TV screen. She grabs a book bag from her collection and runs to the elevator. I throw some Altoids in my briefs, grab my leather jacket and motorcycle helmet and run out, but it’s too late. She’s already passed my floor.

I run down the stairs and bust out onto the street. I see her rounding the corner. I head to my bike to discover my tires are slashed. That bitch! I sprint down the street after her. I turn the corner all piss, vinegar and profanity. I see her flirting with a cop and I stop in my tracks. She’s all rubbing his face and flashing pearly whites. He’s probably new on the beat because he’s fingering his gun like it’s his partner’s dick.

I prop my flexing ass against the brick wall and pull out a pack of Camels. Three cigarettes and a session of people watching later, I look up and she’s gone. I stalk down the street, rubbing one set of fingers against the wall, clinching my second to last cigarette like its gold with the other set. Ten steps later she’s ten feet in front of me coming out to the liquor store with a box full of liquor bottles and an overstuffed JanSport. She walks down the street handing out pints of Crown Royal and Hennessey to every bum she passes like she’s Santy Claws. I take a bitter last drag of my cancer stick and smile.

Five blocks later, she drops the half full box on the steps of St. Vincent. Alcoholics Anonymous screams on the marquee. A blonde lady trips on the box on her way out. She finds herself chest first in Seagram’s gin and cognac. Her thought processes are written all over her face. It doesn’t matter if she’s eight years sober or eight days. She’s gonna sneak a drink.

Janie is already crossing the street not bothering to look both ways like somebody should have taught her. A cab almost hit her and the driver honks the horn at her like she should care. She flips them off and the driver gets out of the car. She hears the door slam and turns around. A what the fuck are you going to do little man look is smeared all over her face. He gets back in the car.

She backs away to the sidewalk, watching me stand in the middle of the street. Her long dark curls dance in a breeze only she feels. The evening sun frames her eyes like the mask of Zorro. She stares at me in annoyance. She stares at me in indifference. She stares at me like she didn’t know I was there. She turns around and runs like a spy trying to evade capture. I run after her like a dog chasing the car of his owner, like a kid who doesn’t want to be left behind. She runs into Morty’s Jesuit Hospital. I arrive in the elevator bank in time to see the doors closing, framing her flipped bird.

I watch what floor the elevator stops on and head to that floor. The tenth floor turns out to be the lung cancer ward. Two chatty Cathy nurses head my way and I dart in the first unlocked door. Dr. Seymour Fitztakuffs is cranked back in his desk chair sawing logs. His hand has been under his law library lamp so long it’s turning red. I hang my leather jacket on his coat rack and slip his lab coat over my You’re not my mother … quit fucking up my life T-shirt. I put his stethoscope on my ears and head out.

I creep into the ICU with a chart I snatched off some stiff’s bed in the hall. All the curtains are drawn back and all of the patients are standing in the middle of the room, circling Janie like sharks. She’s got an air mask on taking hits of oxygen. She opens her backpack and drops it to the floor. All brands of cigarettes tumble out and the patients scramble to obtain their specific brand. Janie crawls on the nearest bed, lies back as if in post coital bliss and inhales deeply.
A brunette bombshell with porn star hooters tugs on my sleeve. “That’s sick,” she says wheezing from Emphysema, speaking of the spectacle of patients.

“Sure,” I say into her breasts.

“They give me two weeks,” she utters in a raspy whisper, placing my hand on her chest.

“I may not have that long,” I say.

“That’s a shame,” she says dragging her oxygen tank and me into the handicap bathroom. She ruffs me up against the wall, stealing harsh kisses. She pushes me onto the toilet and I almost fall in. She drops to her knees. She fingers my nametag with one hand while fingering my crotch with the other. “You’re not Dr. Fitztakuffs,” she says squeezing my crotch tighter in her hand. “I know him.” She puts her air tube on me. I inhale and my eyes roll in my head. “Nice, huh.” I nod in ecstatic agreement.

She proceeds to do the only interesting business to be done on your knees. “Mint,” she giggles hoarsely after her first effort at deep-throating. I pull up my shirt and place the stethoscope on my chest, my heart screams to escape. I rub her head, put the stethoscope to her cheek, lean back on the cool porcelain and try to live in the moment.

I’m just about ready to blow when Janie opens the door laughing at some joke I never heard with an empty water gun in her hand. She takes in the scene like a FBI agent weary of the job. She slams the door. Porn star is too engrossed in the job. She’s still busy bobbing and weaving like a pro when Janie returns with a loaded water pistol and douses my face. I only have to lick my lips once to realize it’s urine.

I knock two-weeks girl to the floor while blowing my load. It must have looked like a porn version of the Matrix. I run after her, pants around my ankles, wang knocking around my navel like a dog with its head out the window. The death row inmates are too busy getting their nicotine fix to applaud me on my ample member. I pick up my pants and my pride and run to the elevator. I hit the button and the elevator doors pop open. I head to the stairs.

She is taking the stairs flights at a time like a trapeze carnie whore. I’m taking the stairs five at a time; its my twenty-fifth step and my lungs are an inferno. She’s out the ground floor door and out on the street. I burst into the night right into a full frontal assault. “Ahhhhhhhhh,” she primal screams while spritzing me with pee. She spins dead on into rush hour traffic.

She scales a beamer with her orange battery powered piss pistol, waving it above her head like a talisman. She’s jumping up and down on the sunroof of a Jag, when I run out into the street screaming, “Wait!”

Gears shift like a tank, Deftones blare in hairy ear lobes, sweaty biceps and work gloves grip a state owned steering wheel. Tires screech and my crumpled body clears the truck like an Olympic high jumper before kissing the asphalt and emitting a sigh of defeat. Refuse rains down on me like comets – cool and wet. “He’s a doctor,” somebody screams. She hitches a ride on the back of a bread truck never even looking back or uttering a sound. She rides down Broadway eating a blueberry bagel as my eyes close to the smells of Marlboros and juicy fruit, garbage and blood.

Know Your Audience

Okay, I talked recently about knowing who you're telling a joke to will be a factor in determining if its funny.  Well, I should follow my own fucking advice.  Okay, for those of you that read my blog entry "Anonymity ... Fuck it! I can't spell!" already see where this is headed.  For those of you that haven't, go back a week.  Anyway, I only verbally told that story to one person (Qiana).  She immediately started laughing like I knew she would because "...and then he whipped his cock out"  is fucking hilarious. Now, I made the mistake of telling this same story to a new friend of mine who did not think this story was hilarious and threatened to stop hanging out with me socially because "weird shit" would happen around me.  Now you have to mind two things.  

1.  This crazy penis story happened at a joint SHE (AKA new friend) took me to, though she was not there during this incident.  

2. She laughed hysterically when I told her the T.I. big bush story.  Like laughing hard!  She had me laughing so hard I nearly asphyxiated.  Matter of fact, I called her today and she answered the phone laughing hysterically because I sent her a link to the blog and she caught the visual and my caption and her first sentence to me was "When I think of you, all I think of is balls."  And we cracked up again.  So, it only stands to reason that someone who thinks T.I. giving away sweaty ball t-shirts complete with serial numbered pubic hairs would find a story where the punch line is "and then he pulled his cock out" a tad bit funny.  But alas, she did not.  Now, she made fun of me and we laughed heartily, but I saw it in her eyes that she was afeared.  It's one thing to see a picture of T.I.'s monster bush.  It's another thing all together to be front row center and smell the musk of sex and genitals.  Well, I guess you either live life on the sidelines or on the stage.  We all know where I like to be.  

Bullies Beware

There is this bitchy chick at work that was about to get got. Being a bitch is cool, cause I can be a bitch sometimes, but she turned her bitchiness on me. Now, yall know I ain't having that especially if I didn't warrant such action. Now, if I did something to piss you off (which I am wont to do. BTW, why did this lady stop me in Borders at like 8 p.m. talking about don't you drive a so-n-so, you cut me off this morning. Lol, damn, I gotta rep like that?! That shit was like 12 hours earlier!), that's fine, I can take it. But when you're mad at other people and you want to take it out on me, that's where I draw the line. And this chick was like, don't fight me, I'll fight you back. Now, I know those of you who know me are like - uh-oh. I held it in. The laughter in her face I mean, well, I held it in the best I could. Who does this chick think I am? Have yall ever seen me back down from confrontation? Ever? I don't invite it, but I don't shirk away from it. But I work here, and I would like to continue to do so. So, I kept the negro-itis in check. And didn't break her off a piece of that funky stuff. When did I start rapping "Ain't Nothing But a G-Thang." You know when Snoop was still relevant. Point is, I beat bullies down, been doing it since first grade. She don't want none of this. Trust.

T.I.'s Free Sweaty Ball Hand Towel Giveaway!

Lol. WTF? First off, why is he dipping handtowels into his crotch and then giving them away. He has some big balls (well, I cannot confirm nor deny this) to consistently do this and think this is okay. I'm sorry, this is funny. I mean who thinks this shit up. And everyone is talking about his big bush. Why is it all the way up to his navel? And on some side leg, too? Yeesh. I know I said I was against a man going all bald, but I'm not advocating a jungle. Poor Tiny having to wade through the weeds on her quest of perpetual pregnancy. Man, you have to have a huge cock to rock a bush that wild. Otherwise, it must look like a turtle in the grass. I love me some T.I., but this is ridiculous. I can't stop laughing. Maybe he's trying to grow it out for prison. I'm sure the reverse looks the same.

Prom Queen - Lil Wayne the Rockstar! Other rappers ... scrambling to catch up!

Weezy done done it again. Have you heard his new song Prom Queen (leaked a week early from his new all rock album The Rebirth due April 7). The negro done gone rock on a bitch and he ain't playing around. He is trying to be versitile as hell and is succeeding at it. Way to branch out Mr. Carter. If only Kanye would stop whining about his heartless fiance and put out another good album. I think Mr. West turned into Keith Sweat. Eminem's new song Pop a Bottle is kinda garbage; it's just not new or fresh or inventive. But his first singles usually suck anyway. They pan to the least common denominator. Let's hope the album has some killer b-sides like they usually do. And why folks always talk about how the game done changed and how since their absence rap has gone to hell. No it hasn't. Who are you? The messiah of rap? Is this the second coming? Please, spare me. And 50 Cent is seriously obsolete. Yeah, I said it. Evolve or perish, Mr. Jackson. And by evolve I don't mean go play gangsters and drug dealers and rappers in movies. That's not an evolution. Evolve musically, you shithead. Singing about how you "get it in" just isn't cutting it! What could be more gross? You talking about stinking your penis into yet another skank invested puss or .... no, you win. You astound me with your musical geniusry. Get a knew schtick because your "thinly" vailed sex references are old hat, disgusting and not very clever. Speaking of genius, whatsup with Common's new joint Universal Mindcontrol. Why am I dancing in the car on the way to work? Who's mind am I universally controling, Common? This might be the theme song to my manifesto. Dance, bitch, dance! Now, who's your master? Crystal! Yeah, that's right! Damn, this song is a Pharrell song (no fucking wonder I love it) and the Hype Williams video is redic. Check on the link below. Seriously, I'm listening to that Prom Queen song right now. It's rediculously sick! Go cop that off iTunes.

Prom Queen link (might stop working due to copyright)

I get it in by 50 stupid Cent

Universal Mindcontrolling by Common

Crack a bottle by Eminem

Urine Facials

At the tender age of 30, I have developed acne. Great! Just in time for my prime time sexual peek. Nothing snags a hot model with a big wang like a face full of white heads. Nothing says don't you want to procreate with me like a face full of pock marks. But I digress. I went to the dermatologist who told me that I really didn't have enough acne to require prescription medication. I told him that was like only having a little syphilis. Not quite enough syph to require penicillin. He thought I was funny. I did not return the favor. So, he gave me a few samples of Differin - which in fact, made it worse. So, I stopped using it. I went through Ambi, Clearasil, Biore with varying degrees of success when I stumbled upon an epiphany while watching my Sunday morning reality shows. On one such VH1 gem, Confessions of a Teen Idol, Eric Nies (of Real World fame) the shows resident hippy was telling his cast mates (demonstrating actually) that pouring urine on your head keeps your hair healthy and shiny. "WHAT?!" You may ask. Yep, he poured pee on his hair. But I one up you Eric Nies. I remember when I was younger (say 17) my grandmother telling me that people used to rub their faces with baby diapers (sans poo) to clear up acne. Well, I don't have a baby and with this pepperoni face, I won't be having one either. I know sex clears it up, too (well, it does for me) but I'm not having enough of it for my clear skin to stick. So, I thought to myself, "What about regular ole pee?" I looked it up on google and there it was on like a wikipedia health page. Your pee is chocked full of stuff your face needs. Minerals and vitamins and crap that's good for your face. My first thought is why are we peeing it out in the first place if its so good. Well, you pee out any water soluble vitamin or mineral that you consume in excess, but that's as far as my 6 year old pre-med knowledge goes. What you do is take a cotton swab, hit your pee about mid-stream (after the toxins have already exited), wipe it on your face and let it sit for at least 10 minutes then wash it off. And you need that good old strong goldenrod pee, none of that water cleanse Zima looking pee. Do this when you first wake up and right before you go to bed. I swear its working. Don't ask me why I'm telling yall this. Cause its fucking funny. I bet none of R. Kelly's girlfriends have acne.

Oh, so you're not into pissing on your own face? Prude! Try the new Neutragena acne clearing system they're saying is better than Proactiv. I tried Proactiv and it broke my face out. I washed my face once with that Neutragena system and I have 4 huge monster zits go away. So, you tell me what's up. Well, I did that and ... R. Kelly slept over and he peed on my face. I'm just playing.