10 9 8 7 6 5 4/ 3 2 Murder 1 Lyrics At Your Door

Inspiration - Method Man and Redman - "How High" 10 9 8 7 6 5 4/3 2 Murder 1 lyrics at your door/Tical bring it to that ass raw/Breakin all the rules like glass jaws/Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours/Fucka, we dont need no rap tour/I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rap-ture/More than you bargained for/Tical, that stays open like an all nite store/For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel/Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill/And end your existance, M-E-T/Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D

What I'm Listening To - Pete Rock "Petestrumentals"

Question(s) I Asked Myself Today - "Where the hell is my alternate ending to the Choose Your Own Adventures saga?"

I'm on a countdown today. Laziness is setting in and I don't feel like doing a real post. I planned on posting the alternate ending to Jamal's saga, but I can't find it in my drafts. Anyway, it's Friday and I'm gonna keep it short and sweet. Here are some things I'm counting down:

10. 8 hours of work until my vacation. I don't have any big plans, but I'm excited about the prospect of sitting around doing nothing. I'm making people sick at work. I been counting down since Monday.

9. 11 months until Isaiah Thomas gets fired for ruining my Knicks. I gotta suffer through one more season of his mess and then its time for a fresh start. I don't know who they are going to get, but I think anyone will be better.

8. 2 more months until the NFL regular season. I mentioned before that I am going through withdrawal. Will this be the year that the Falcons make a run towards the Super Bowl?

7. 2 years 6 months 23 days until Bush is out of office. I'm not too excited because who knows who will take his place. This also leaves him enough time to start a couple of more wars and take away a few more civil liberties from us.

6. A month and a half until my brothers wedding. I still don't know my role in the wedding, but at least I wont be wearing a white tux. That was a deal breaker.

5. 3 months until Nas' new album "Hip Hop is Dead" comes out. I really hope his first joint with Def Jam reestablishes him as the premier MC. I heard a couple of the tracks he has done and they are banging. Don't know if they will make the album, but its a good sign.

4. A week until Mocha and Miz JJ come to town. If they can fit me in their busy schedule I will officially be that blogger that meets other bloggers. I promise I wont be anti social when you get here.

3. 5 more months until my birthday. My 30th and 31st were kind of lame, so for this one I'm trying to go somewhere or do something fun. I should start planning now, cuz I'm such a procrastinator. But knowing me the day before I'll still be sitting around not knowing what I'm gonna do.

2. A week or less until my goddaughter is born. Since it doesn't look like I'll be having children anytime soon, I'll have to take out my spoiling tendencies on her.

1. 525,600 minutes - Okay, I don't have anything that I'm counting down for a year, but I was listening to Stevie Wonder's "Seasons of Love" last night and that number is stuck in my head. That song is amazing. Stevie Wonder is a musical genius!!!

It was written...

Talk Like Sex

Inspiration - Kool G Rap "Talk Like Sex" "All hell is in your tush,/when Kool G. Rap push pushes inside this bush/Anotha homegirl flinches/but I got inches for all you lil' wenches/The letter G is better when it comes to the letter X/An' I'ma talk like sex/Rated XXX"

What I'm Listening To - "Only Dance 1980 -1984" I know it sounds a little soft, but it got some bangers on there, like "Carribean Queen" "SuperFreak" and "Let's Hear it for the Boy"

Question(s) I Asked Myself Today - You don't even wanna know what I'm asking myself right now. The edited version is "Why are people so strange?"

NSane Lee Sane decided to tag a nigga with a sex meme. Since I am so shy, I didnt want to answer this, but ya boy can't back down from a challenge so here you go. Before I start, I'd like to take this time to say "Fuck You Isaiah Thomas!!!" I'm waiting for your punk ass to get fired for destroying my Knicks. Also, I forgot to post the Six Degrees answers, so I'll do that as soon as I finish this post.

1. HAVE YOU GOTTEN LAID IN 2006? Yes, but not nearly enough. Who am I kidding? It ain’t like I been applying myself. Who still says "laid?"

2. EVER HAD SEX IN A PUBLIC PLACE? I already answered this one awhile back. A church parking lot, an apartment complex parking lot and if you count head, the highway and a club.

3. EVER LAUGH DURING SEX? IF SO WHY? Yes, sometimes the reactions are funny to me.

4. EVER CRY DURING SEX? IF SO WHY? Can't think of a time that I cried. Doesn't seem like something a man would do.

5. DO YOU LIKE TO CUDDLE AFTER SEX? Its cool, as long as I ain’t laying in the wet spot. Sorry Tenacious, I had to steal that one from you.

6. EVER REGRET SEX WITH SOMEONE? Yeah, a girl named “Bootleg.” I lied every time someone asked me if did it with her.

7. EVER FAKED AN ORGASM? Yes. She was done, and I wasn’t. I just wanted to get some sleep

8. DIRTY TALK, OR SHUT THE FUCK UP? Shut the fuck up! In the words of Big Daddy Kane “theres no need for conversation my dear/ uuuuhhh is all I wanna hear”

9. EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX: Yes, *hides from Surgeon General*

10. EVER MASTERBATE TO YOUR FRIENDS SIGNIFICANT OTHER? Nope, Bros over Hoes. Back when I had male friends, we had dramaticallly different tastes in women.

11. EVER HAVE A ONE NIGHT STAND? Back when I was 19, I had a one night stand at Disney World. That’s why it’s the happiest place on earth.

12. HOW BOUT A 3-SOME? How about it? Maybe when I was younger, but I couldn’t do that with someone I cared about. I’m too selfish for that. I know I blogged about the time I turned a 3some with 2 female friends down. If you don't remember that, I was young and stupid and worried about ruining the friendship. I don't talk to either of them anymore, so good move T!

13. EVER WATCH PORN DURING SEX? During foreplay, yeah. But during the act, I ain’t paying attention to TV.

14. EVER THOUGHT OF SOMEONE ELSE DURING SEX? Yes, I have an active imagination .

15. HAS THE CONDOM EVER BROKE? Yes and that was the longest 2 weeks of my life waiting for that next cycle. Also, stalker #2 used to try to poke holes in the condom to get pregnant. Does that count?

16. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASING SEXUAL EXPERIENCE? I guess it would be the first time. Even though I wasn’t supposed to know what I was doing, that shit was embarrassing as hell for a minute. I think I was doing her thigh for a good minute before I realized I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. LOL I can’t believe I’m talking about this on my blog.

17. HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY? We both were 17. Is that late for a guy?

18. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH RIGHT NOW? I plead the 5th on this one b/c either y’all know her and I aint putting her on blast or you don’t know her and therefore it doesn’t matter.

19. DO YOU THINK THAT number 18 IS POSSIBLE? Anything is possible. But I don’t think its probable.

20. ARE YOU HORNY NOW? Nah, I’m good. *wind blows* Okay, I’m horny again.

21. WOULD U HAVE SEX WITH THE PERSON THAT POSTED THIS? I’m a little scared of the Nsane one, but I would definitely give it shot.

So now its time to tag people. You know I don't like tagging but I'm going to do it this time. Let's see my victims are:

Superstar Nic - cuz she doing meme's all week.

Blue Butterfli - cuz she new around here and hasn't been tagged yet.

Mocha - cuz she laughed at me for having to do this tag.

Don't make me have to chase you down to do this tag. I'll do it, you know I will.

It was written...

I Was Dreaming When I Wrote This...

...Forgive me if I go astray.

I just had a dream that made me cry in my sleep. I’m going to try to type as much as I can remember but I’m sure I’m going to forget stuff. It maynot make any sense but here we go.

I was going to Six Flags with a couple of fellow bloggers. One of whom I was really feeling. It was supposed to be the 3 of us, but when I met up with them, they had brought boyfriends with them. They were straight lovey dovey and everything. Holding hands. Arms around shoulders and shit. I was a true 5th wheel. I expressed my concerns to the Blogger I was feeling and she reassured me that I had nothing to worry about, it was just an old friend. So the 4 of them were riding in a golf cart from ride to ride and I was following along by running. I know, I don’t fucking run, but I was in the dream. I even followed them on the Smurf ride, which was a water ride. They rode in the car down the water ride and I followed on foot, walking down a huge water plume and sliding down without the car. Anyway, I finally got frustrated and decided to leave, then the Blogger I was feeling tells me she needs my help. We lauch into a flashback and we are sitting in her hotel room. Flashback ensues: She hit her fake boyfriend over the head with a candle stick and he died. We roll up his body in a rug and throw him in the trunk of the car, I don’t know whose car but it was in a car trunk and the body was extremely light, like carrying a little dog or something. We drive from fake ATL to fake Arizona and are being chased by a[puppet in a cop uniform and he is relentless like the terminator 2 cop. The car turned into a convertible and I start throwing fruit at him so he will get off of our trail and stop chasing us,. At one point he falls down a cliff and we stop the car to celebrate by making sweet love. Just as I am about to climax, the cop puppet drags his lifeless body up the Cliffside and says freeze stay where you are . I pelt him with rocks and bricks but eventually I run out of shit to throw at him and he arrests us. She gets 10 years for manslaughter and I am let out of jail without a charge and sent back to home

When I get home, I am in a relationship with my ex girlfriend. We are married with a child. Only she looks like she did when I met her in 1999 instead of how she looks now. I also look different in that I am skinny, I mean like Keith Sweat skinny. We hug and we kiss and we talk about our child. It’s a beautiful baby boy and all is perfect with the world. I hear a ripping sound and all of a sudden things ain’t perfect anymore. The tear reveals that I have been seeing things that weren’t really true. For instance I ain’t Keith sweat skinny and my ex doesn’t look like she did in 1999 or even now. She is horribly disfigured. Like a burn victim. But that flash only lasts a few seconds and its back to the fantasy life. I tell the ex what I saw and she starts looking nervous. I get the feeling that she knows the fantasy life isn’t real. I press her for awhile and then shit is revealed. I am normal me, 2006 version, she is an Emmett Till look alike and we don’t have any kids. We live in a rundown shack, and it’s dirty and roaches all over the place. I don’t like this reality so I say “how could I be so fooled?” She tells me “You see what you want to seee instead of the truth.” I respond “how do I know it’s the truth, this can be another construct of my imagination,” She says “look into your heart.”

I look into my heart literally, I mean it was like a scene on House or CSI when the camera zooms into the part of the body that’s fucked up and I find out another reality. This time we look normal but carry heavy emotional scars. I’m an alcoholic who neglects my family; she’s a cheating harlot with no regard for me as a person. We have a shambles of a marriage and our son is nowhere to be found. I’m appalled by this reality and I try to rip it down, and get back to the happy life. My life is then revealed to be a movie directed by David Heffernan, for the Holiday Inn Hotel Chain. The tag line is if you want to keep your children off of drugs have them watch this movie. So even though I know it’s a move, I still am living the script. I want to see my son, I want to do better. I ask the ex where he is and she takes me to a dark room and says he’s not ready yet. I am eager so I look around the room looking for him, but I can’t find him. Next thing I know I am outside the house and there are 2 holes cut into the wall. Hold up back up, I had even saw those holes in the earlier versions of my reality, but didn’t really think anything of them. So this time I stick my hands into the hole and there’s latex tubing going all the way through to some rubber gloves like in Outbreak. I reach around for a minute then something grabs my arm. I look through the hole and hear a voice say daddy. I look in the windows that all of a sudden appeared and its an eight year old version of me, complete with curly afro I used to rock back in the eighties. The ex comes out and explains to me that my son, or me, or however it was in the room is a bubble boy and can’t experience the outside world and will never know his fathers touch. I busted out in tears in my dream and woke the fuck up.

That was some sick shit and I wrote it right after I woke up. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet. It's now 3:30 Am, and I dont want to go back to sleep. I wonder if this will make any sense in the morning. What the hell does this dream mean? Any amateur analysis for me?

EDIT: 9:15 AM - I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER POSTING THIS. I'VE STARTED WRITING DOWN MY STRANGE DREAMS FOR MY DREAM JOURNAL BLOG I WAS GOING TO START, BUT I DIDN'T INTEND TO POST THIS. OH, WELL.

Six Degrees

Have you ever heard of the game Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? Basically the premise of the game is that you can connect any actor through their film roles to Kevin Bacon. The object of the game is to link them in six steps or less. Here’s an example I found on a fan website:

Carrie Fischer was in Star Wars with
Harrison Ford was in The Fugitive with
Tommy Lee Jones who was in Batman Forever
Val Kilmer who was in Heat with
Robert Dinero who was in Sleepers with
KEVIN BACON!

I was chatting with Nikki on IM and we wondered if you could do this with other actors. For example, we linked Lark Voorhies (don’t ask) with Michael Caine like this:

Lark Voorhies was in How to Be a Player with
Bill Bellamy was in Love Jones with
Isaiah Washington was in Clockers with
Delroy Lindo was in Cider House Rules with
Michael Caine.

See what I’m getting at, we did that in 4 steps. Another pair we linked was Charlie Chaplin with Bokeem Woodbine. That one was hard and we had to consult the IMdB for that one, but we got it done. I thought it would be fun to post a couple of these to see if you can link two actors who seemingly have nothing in common together in six steps or less. You down? Try to link these actors together.

Humphrey Bogart and Tyler Perry (I did it in 6)
Humphrey Bogart was in Casablanca with
Ingrid Bergman was in Gaslight with
Joseph Cotton was in Citizen Kane with
Orson Welles was in A Woman Called Moses with
Cicely Tyson was in Madea’s Family Reunion with
Tyler Perry

Barbara Stanwyck and Gabrielle Union (I did it in 5)
Barbara Stanwyck was in Double Indemnity with
Edward G Robinson was in Soylent Green with
Charlton Heston was in Any Given Sunday with
Jamie Foxx was in Breaking all the Rules with
Gabrielle Union
James Cagney and Ice Cube (I did it in 6)
James Cagney was in Angels with Dirty Faces with
Humphrey Bogart was in Key Largo with
Lauren Bacall was in Misery with
Kathy Bates was in Titanic with
Bill Paxton was in Trespass with
Ice Cube


Can you beat me? I’ll post my answers later if no one gets it. Here are a couple bonus ones. I couldn’t figure these out. Maybe you can get it..

Shabba Doo from Breakin’ and Gene Kelly (did it in 7, but that’s not good enough)

Fifty Cent and Sidney Poiter (also did it in 7 steps)

It was written...

I Need A Girl (Part 2)

Inspiration - "I Need A Girl, (Part 2) - P. Diddy (feat Loon, Ginuwine & Mario Winans)

What I'm Listening To: Some Justus League downloads (Little Brother, 9th Wonder, L.E.G.A.C.Y., Cesar Comanche, Edgar Allen Floe, Median, etc)

Question(s) I Asked Myself Today - "Why is she calling my cell phone, when she KNOWS I'm at work?"

First off, I know there wasn't a part one, but I like the remix better than the original, so I chose that song. Deal with it! Back to the post. I'm convinced that I need a girl. Let me give you the evidence.

Friday, I came home from work and sat around for awhile avoiding phone calls. My excuse was that I was a little tired, but honestly I just didnt really feel like hanging out. Now, my anti social tendencies are legendary but over the last few weeks, its been getting ridiculous. I haven't gone out since Memorial Day, I think. If I had a girl, I wouldn't be able to get away this ish. I'd be forced to go out and do something. I always have fun when I go out, its just like pulling teeth to get me to go. Anyway, the night was cool because I was able to be by myself and have some good IM conversation.

Saturday, I was chilling for most of the day. I left the crib to pay some bills and hit the grocery store, but it was so damn hot that I felt like I was going to melt. Came back home and started to clean up the crib. It was a little outrageous on the verge of being nasty. If I had a girl, I would have to keep my shit clean. Can't be entertaining with a sink full of dirty dishes, and dirty draws all over the floor. I'm about halfway done cleaning, and then Chi-town calls and asks if she can use my computer for a minute. She was about to go to a party, and I was considering hitting up the strip club, for ummm, research. Yeah, thats right, it was research. LOL By this time, it started storming. The rain was really coming down and there was lightning and thunder. Chi-town decided that she was going to chill with me. Now, I didn't invite her and I really wanted to be alone, but she wasn't having it. She said I was being a hobbit. She meant hermit, I think, but that could have been her way of calling me short. LOL

After doing everything short of picking her up and throwing her out the door, I realized she wasn't going anywhere. And then the lights went off. The storms created a massive power failure. The whole neighborhood was pitch black. I searched for the 2 candles that I had in the crib, lit them up and sat in the dark with Chi-Town having bullshit conversation. This illustrated a couple of reasons I need a girl. Number 1, if I had a girl, people wouldnt think they can just bogard their way into my house. And Number 2, no lights = no clothes. That was a perfect opportunity for some of that good loving. But since I don't have a girl, I was just sitting around waiting for the power to come back on. I eventually went to bed while Chi-Town was doing God knows what in the dark ass living room. The lights finally came back on at 5AM, and when I woke up around 10, this girl was still at my crib sleep on my couch. Damn, I need a girl for real.

Sunday, was more of the same old thing. All day IM'ing, messing around with my MySpace page, doing nothing. I was thinking that if I had a girl, I wouldn't be sitting around in my boxers all day. I might have actually ate before 10:00. Not that I'm looking for someone to cook for me (unless you gonna do it, LOL)

What y'all think? Do I need a girl? You know somebody for me? Send their info to visionz74@yahoo.com . I will review their resumes and get back with you. I'll post the top 5 on the blog and let you choose the right girl for me, like some Reality Blog TV show. LOL.

It was written...

No, You Get Over It!

I feel the need to respond to a post I read yesterday. Nikki basically told me and the other male bloggers to Get Over It. Her post addressed the "problem" of men not commenting on other men's blogs. It was a great post from her point of view, but let me tell you mine. Here's why I don't comment on most male bloggers blogs. I don't expect most of the women to agree with me, but this is my opinion. Nikki's comment section didn't give me enough space to give you the real deal and plus, she was moderating the forum so it was skewed to her perspective. Here is my perspective:

1. The Gay Issue - There are a lot of gay writers in the blog world. And as open minded as I try to be, the subject matter on these blogs doesn't appeal to me. I don't have anything constructive to add to the topic. Therefore, I don't read or comment on them. It's not homophobia it's just not what I want to read about, the same why that I don't like to read about Black Republicans or celebrity gossip blogs. Gay male bloggers are just not my demographic.

2. I'm Not A Poet (and didn't even know it) - There are some male bloggers with a real cool vibe and might be good people, but I'm not into poetry like that. While I do respect what they do, and occasionally like to read a verse, I don't make that my regular routine. That eliminates a large segment of male bloggers.

3. Dick Bragging - There are a gang of blogs out there about sexual conquests. It seems like everybody wanna be a player or a pimp. Now, I'm not saying that these bloggers are making it up, in fact in doesn't matter. What you eat don't make me shit. What I mean by that is this: I don't get any satisfaction from the girls they are boning. For me to comment on these blogs to me is the equivalent of high school locker room talk, where guys bragged on their dicks to no end. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude and I understand that sexuality is a part of life, but to read some of these blogs, they have a different girl every night. Do You! I just don't really care that much.

4. Male Friends - In real life I don't have any male friends. Every one in my cipher is a female. I just get along better with the ladies. I'm not sure why that is so hard to believe. Most women I know get along better with men and vice versa. That translates to the blog world to me. We don't always have the same perspectives or opinions, but they are never hesitant to check me if I'm wrong or give me good advice if I need it. In fact I expect some of that in the comments section after this joint.

5. The Alpha Male Syndrome - This is the most important reason I don't comment on a lot of male blogs. In this blog world, the writer of the blog is king, or emperor, or dictator. I previously mentioned my opinion that a lot of male bloggers are extremely arrogant, and yes this includes me. I don't see the need to feed someone else's ego. When I first started reading blogs, I would comment on male and female blogs alike. I noticed that women appreciated my comments, while the males merely tolerated them. Before you accuse me of stereotyping, I know not all male bloggers are like that. But from personal experience I've literally seen them respond to all the female commenters and skip over the men. It's the Alpha Male syndrome. There can only be one dominant male, and it's the one who owns the blog. That also doesn't mean that it's competition, it's just the nature of men. I have my blog to shine, and I let them have their spot.

I offer this post as an explanation of my behavior, not an apology. I probably still wont comment on men's blogs on a regular basis. In fact, as anybody that knows me in real life or IM knows, I am extremely stubborn and getting called out may have the opposite effect. LOL. That being said, if any men are out there and want to comment I welcome it. Gay, Straight, Black, White, its all good. I may not agree with you, but I respect your right to say it here. Not to mention that I am a comment whore, so the more comments the better. And now just to show that I'm not a complete hater here are a few of the guys whose blogs I'm digging.

The Humanity Critic - I share his love of music and asshole mentality

Leon - This cat is hilarious. He's actually one of the first bloggers that I read.

Knockout Zed Brother can tell a story. We comment on a lot of the same blogs

There are probably a ton of other men's blogs I would enjoy, but my blogging habit is already at epic proportions. I'm sure the male bloggers don't care one way or another if I comment on their blogs. Anyway, tell me what you think and be brutally honest. If you think I'm being ridiculous, then tell me. It ain't gonna change anything (see aforementioned stubbornness), but I want to know what you think. Peace Fam!

It was written...

Choose Your Own Adventure (Part 3)

Click here for Part 1 and Part 2. I really wish you guys had picked the VIP stripper option. That one was going to be funny.

Jamal fought with his conscience for a minute. His libido wanted to follow the girl in to the VIP, but his brain thought better of it. He didn’t want to be the type of guy that paid for sex. Besides, Jamal didn’t have any condoms with him.

“Sorry, Love! I ain’t got another hundred” he lied. He looked around the club for his next table dance and then remembered Lorenzo’s beef. Jamal reluctantly walked to the bar to come to his cousin’s defense.

“Is there a problem here?”

“Nah, we cool”, Lorenzo said. “This nigga just spilled a drink on my throwback. He was just about to apologize.”

A lanky, John Salley looking brotha replied, “Fuck you, nigga. Yo clumsy ass bumped into me!”

Lorenzo cocked back his right arm and prepared to swing. Jamal intervened grabbing his cousin’s wrist. He pushed him away from the bar and guided him back to their table. John Salley and his homeboy headed in the other direction. They had dodged a bullet. Jamal couldn’t fight and Lorenzo could fight too well. The volatile situation was diffused for the time being.

“Man, just calm down and watch the girls.”

For a moment, Lorenzo complied, but the anger resonated on his face. Sensing the tension, Jamal decided to take action. He suggested that they smoke another joint. The cousins went to the bathroom and lit up the weed. They rotated the spliff back and forth until nothing remained but a small roach, which fell on Jamal’s cream shirt leaving a small hole. Just as Jamal and Lorenzo were exiting the restroom, a burly bouncer busted in, startling the cousins.

“Y’all can’t smoke weed in here”

“We ain’t smoking” Jamal retorted, but his crimson eyes and high stupor revealed that statement as bullshit.

“Y’all gotta go or I’m gonna call Five-O”

“Fuck your old bullshit club. We was leaving anyway!” Lorenzo yelled.

Jamal staggered out to the parking lot, followed closely by Lorenzo. Their night had come to an abrupt end. Although it didn’t go according to plans, Jamal had fun. So much so that he wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. He suggested that they go to the party he was invited to. He started the Navigator, punched in the coordinates on the GPS, and headed across town to find his “train girl.” Jamal’s driving was a little erratic, compliments of his first experience with marijuana, but he managed to safely arrive at the venue. Upon exiting the vehicle, they realized that the party was letting out and the hordes of revelers were now parking lot pimping.

Jamal scanned the crowd looking for “train girl”. Although he had only seen her once, he knew that he would recognize her if he saw her again. A cool breeze ran across Jamal’s midsection, a reminder of his earlier mishap with the joint. Fiddling with the hole in his shirt, he staggered across the street towards the front of the building with Lorenzo following closely behind. About halfway to the entrance, Jamal caught sight of his intended prey and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Train girl” was standing at the top of the steps, a vision in all white. Jamal scanned her slowly, taking mental notes. He drank in her visage, especially enamored at the way her hair rested comfortably at the nape of her neck. She was casually chatting with a guy, who no doubt was trying to take her home. Her disinterest was obvious to Jamal and he was faced with another dilemma. Should he:

A: Wait for the guy to leave and then approach her.
B: Cock block the guy and take his woman.
C: Go home and call her later.

Before he could make a choice, he heard Lorenzo yell out.

“Watch out Jamal!!!”

But it was too late. Jamal was broadsided by a Honda Accord. He flew backwards and crumbled in a heap in the middle of the street. Jamal thought to himself "Damn, this was fun!" and lost consciousness.

It was written…

Choose Your Own Adventure (part 2)

Click Here for Part 1

Jamal weighed his options for Saturday. He remembered his Blackness and quickly nixed the idea of bungee jumping. Although it was an adrenaline rush, the thought of putting his life in danger didn’t really appeal to him. And while he did want to see “train girl” again, Jamal decided that a party wasn’t the right setting to get to know her. That left Lorenzo’s offer to hang out. Jamal decided that he would hit the town with his cousin.

As Saturday approached, Jamal felt good about his decision. He called Lorenzo and made plans to meet at O Malley’s, a local bar frequented by the upwardly mobile African – American set. In typical Jamal fashion, he created an itinerary for the evening:
1. 9:00 -10:00 PM: Drinks at O’ Malleys.
2. 10:00 -10:30 PM – Travel Time.
3. 10:30 – 12:30 PM – Watch Exotic Dancers at “Klassy Kats”
4. 12:30AM – Head Home
It wasn’t exactly “cutting loose,” but Jamal was happy with his agenda. But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.

Jamal picked out a pair of chocolate slacks and a cream colored long sleeved shirt as his attire for the evening. After carefully pressing his outfit and getting dressed, he sauntered to his 2005 Lincoln Navigator and made the 15 minute drive to his favorite watering hole. Arriving early, Jamal took a seat at the end of the bar and ordered a Remy Martin XO. He deliberately sipped his drink as he waited for his cousin to arrive. Jamal quietly took in his surroundings, taking special notice of the young Black professionals in suits as they conversed with the meticulously coifed and manicured ladies. Easy going Jazz music tickled his eardrums as Burberry and Curve fragrances massaged his nostrils. The atmosphere was aesthetically pleasing to the conservative Jamal, who felt at ease in this environment. At: 9:13, Lorenzo swaggered into the bar, creating a stark contrast in his jeans and throwback USC O.J. Simpson jersey.

“What up cuz!” Lorenzo bellowed, extending his right arm for a handshake, and pulling Jamal in for a man hug. He pounded Jamal’s back and then sat down in the adjacent empty seat. He barked out a drink order to the bartender and scanned the crowd.

“There’s some fine hoes up in here, J. And they look like they got money!”

“How you been, Lorenzo?”

The cousins made small talk as Jamal took in his 3rd Remy and Lorenzo took Petron shot after Petron shot. The itinerary went out the window and the next thing they knew, it was 10:30. Jamal was ready to go to Klassy Kats, but Lorenzo had other ideas.

“We ain’t going to that lame spot. I wanna see some strippers, not dancers. Them hoes don’t even let you touch. I know this spot on the Westside that’s perfect. You down?”

Jamal thought about it. His intentions were to have fun, and Lorenzo certainly was the go to guy for that. He was a little nervous about going to the Westside, as it had a rougher element than he was used to. Perhaps it was the Remy talking, but Jamal decided to let Lorenzo run the show.

“Yeah, I’m down. Lets do the damn thing.”

They paid the tab, and left O Malley’s in Jamal’s Navigator. Lorenzo left his rental in the parking lot. They hopped on the highway listening to a bootleg T.I. cd. Bopping his head, Lorenzo pulled out a pack of Newports and a lighter from his front pocket. Concealed within the box was a tightly packed joint. He lit up the reefer, took a couple of pulls and then motioned for Jamal to take a hit. Jamal hesitated, and after initially protesting, decided to try marijuana for the first time. After all, this was his night to let it all hang out.

Jamal put the zig zag to his lips and sucked in the smoke. This wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even feel anything. Lorenzo reclined the leather seats and watched his cousin as he smoked and drove.

“Yo, I’m a get you f*cked up tonight. This is gonna be a night you will never forget.”

As they arrived at their destination, Jamal began to feel the effects of the joint. It was a sensation that he had never experienced before. Every nerve ending in his body was tingling. He glanced at the neon flashing lights that read “Girls, Girls, Girls,” and was in awe at the indigo trails of light that assaulted his retinas. Lorenzo paid the $5 cover for both of them and they found a seat at a table next to a speaker. Pulsating drum beats throbbed in Jamal’s head and he found himself gawking at the naked and half naked strippers of all varieties. He felt like a kid in the candy store as he tried to decide whether to get a dance from the tall girl, the short girl, the thick girl, the skinny girl, the dark skinned girl, or the light skinned girl. Sensing his dilemma, Lorenzo, a strip club expert, took the lead and summoned a caramel cutie with smooth skin and spiral curls to dance for Jamal.

The combination of weed and liqour sent Jamal into a sensory overload. He fixated on the gyrations, as he tasted the aroma of Bath and Body works that lingered around him. Jamal worked up the nerve to touch his private dancer, lightly tapping her bottom as she shook in front of him. When the song was over, he paid her and was ready for more. Jamal bought dance after dance and eventually lost track of his cousin who went to the bar for more drinks. An hour into the experience, Jamal was approached by a tall dancer with shoulder length hair. She wore a black fishnet body stocking with nothing underneath. In his intoxicated state, she reminded him of “train girl.” She leaned in, pressing her breasts against his face and whispered in his ear:

“For $100, you can do whatever you want to me in the V.I.P”

Jamal was aghast. He had never been sexually solicited like that. Besides, Chris Rock said theres no sex in the champagne room. As he contemplated her offer, he saw Lorenzo at the bar in an argument with 2 other clubgoers. He thought about intervening, but it had been over 15 years since he had been in a fight, and the Westside thugs were some tough customers. Jamal faced another dilemna. Should he:

A: Go into the VIP with the stripper for some strip club sex
B. Decline her offer and keep getting dances
C. Go help Lorenzo and possibly fight.

Please choose just one and I will post the conclusion on Friday morning.

It was written…

Choose Your Own Adventure

When I was a kid, I used to read these Choose Your Own Adventure books. Basically what they were was little novels that allowed you to choose what the main character would do next. For instance, if you wanted the character to skip school, you turn to a certain page and see what happened, or if you wanted him to go to Egypt, you turn to a different page and see what happened. My next 3 posts will allow you, the reader, to decide what I write about next. I’ll start it off, and then give you a few choices about what happens next. I will go by majority vote in the comments section. Because I’m not a kid anymore, I will be writing these stories about adults and for adults. You ready? Let’s Go!!!

Jamal was always a cautious guy. He was known for playing it safe. As a youth, he never indulged in drugs or alcohol, and had the reputation of a straight arrow. As his 25th birthday approached, Jamal decided that it was time for him to start taking some risks. This was unfamiliar territory for the guarded young man, but he was determined to truly experience life for the first time.

Thoughts of cutting loose encircled Jamal’s mind. He listened to his coworker’s tales of adventure and imagined himself in those situations. Jamal wanted to have fun. He was invited to go bungee jumping with a group of his colleagues on Saturday. He thought about the offer, but figured that this was something that white people do. Still, if he was going to lose control, what better way to get the adrenaline pumping? He did some online research on bungee jumping and discovered that it was actually quite safe, which allayed his fears. Jamal gave serious consideration to taking his coworker up on the offer.

Riding the train home from work, he overheard a conversation between two attractive ladies. Jamal was quite handsome, but never really confident around women. They were discussing a party they were going to on Saturday. He wanted to ask them where and when this festivity would take place, but was too shy. Jamal slouched in his seat and resigned himself to the fact that he could not approach these women. As luck would have it, the tall sister with shoulder length hair walked over to Jamal and handed him a flier about the party, and her phone number. Jamal’s self esteem was boosted, and as he watched the young lady exit the train, he realized that his birthday wish for fun just might come true.

When he arrived at his downtown loft, Jamal stretched out on his couch and fell asleep listening to ESPN. His effortless slumber was interrupted by the shrill ring of his phone. He heard his cousin’s familiar voice on the other end of the receiver.

“What’s up Jamal? I’m coming to town on Saturday. We need to get together and hit up a strip club or something.”

Jamal was nervous about hanging with Lorenzo. His cousin had a reputation for getting into trouble wherever he went. In fact, Lorenzo was fresh off of a 12 month stay in the county correctional facility for beating up a bouncer at a local nightclub. But he sure knew how to “keep it crunk.” Jamal knew that if he rolled with Lorenzo, it would be a night to remember.

There are three offers on the table. Which one should Jamal take? Should he:
A. Try Bungee Jumping
B. Go to the party with the girl from the train
C. Hang out with his criminally inclined cousin.
Vote for what you think Jamal should do in the comments section and I will post the next part on Thursday morning.

It was written…

Tennessee

Inspiration - "Tennessee" Arrested Development - I know you're supposed to be my steering wheel/Not just my spare tire (home)/But lord I ask you (home)/To be my guiding force and truth (home)/For some strange reason it had to be (home)/He guided me to Tennessee (home)

What I'm Listening To - "Aint Nobody Worrying" - Anthony Hamilton

Question(s) I Asked Myself Today - "Can the police use their radar guns at night?" I wondered this as I was driving 95 mph trying to get home.

This weekend I went to Tennessee to see my friend Tweety. She is 8 months pregnant and I missed her baby shower last month because of the whole pink eye fiasco. I'm trying to be godfather to her daughter. I got her this crib/bed from her baby registry at Bab.ies R Us. Now, it wouldn't be a T blog story if something didn't go wrong, so here it is:

I left work Friday to pick up the crib. Shipping was like an extra 100 bucks so I decided to just buy it at the store and drive it up there. I gets to the store, plop down my $392.74 and expect to get a normal sized box to put in the trunk. It had to be assembled so I didn't expect to get a box the size of the space shuttle. Needless to say, it wouldnt fit in my trunk or backseat. I didn't know what I was gonna do, so I left the crib at the store and searched for someone with an SUV to pick it up for me. After a couple of calls, my homey Collipark came through with her SUV. I still didnt know how I was going to get it to TN, but at least I could take it home. We rolled back to the store and the box wouldn't fit in her truck either. Finally, I ask the stock guy, if I can just take it out of the box and put it in the car. This mumbling negro says, "I was gonna suggest that the first time." Well, why didn't you? Anyway, we put all the pieces in the SUV and drove back to my crib.

I started putting the pieces in my trunk, when I realized that the sideboard still wont fit in my car. We tried manuevering it in the back seat and the front seat, before finally getting in diagonally between the passenger side front seat and the driver side back seat. The only problem was the large piece was sitting on top of my my gear shift, and I couldn't get the car in drive. I just gave up and decided to figure it out on Saturday.

Now, I've told you that I'm the worlds biggest procrastinator right? Well Saturday comes and while I should be on the road, I'm sitting around the crib watching World Cup Soccer. (Shout out to Ghana for beating the Czech Republic) I finally get my shit together and leave at around 2:30. The ride takes about 3 hours normally. I basically wasted the whole day away doing nothing, plus I still have to figure out how I'm going to drive with this monstrosity in the car. I nigga-rigged it so I could lift the crib up and put the car in gear and got on the highway. There was a lot of traffic but it was moving smoothly. Just as I put the cruise control on to relax, I see nothing but brake lights. Apparently, the Georgia D.O.T. thought it was a good idea to shut down 2 lanes of I 75 at the same time to widen the highway. Traffic came to a standstill and I already was later than I wanted to be. The 3 hour drive came out to be 4 1/2 hours.

Now, Tweety doesn't live in a major metropolitain city. If she lived in Nashville, I could just take 75 to 24. She lives in the middle of nowhere, in Hanganiggaville, TN. I've taken the drive many times, but it never ceases to amaze me how remote it is. There is a section of the highway that cuts through the mountains and blocks all cell phone service. I think that they should change the state motto to "Tennessee - Come dump your dead bodies here!" There is no one around for a good stretch of the road and it would serve as a perfect environment for concealing a murder. (Not that I thought of that - LOL.) This highway is also the perfect setting for a horror movie. My overactive imagination kept me thinking about that movie "Jee.pers Cree.pers" where they were driving down a deserted stretch of road and were attacked by a whatever the fuck it was. But I made it without incident and watched 4 episodes of SVU with Tweety for the rest of the day.

Sunday, we went to IHOP for breakfast and were the only Black people in the restaurant. There weren't even any brothers working in the back. There was one Mexican, but the rest were all White. Later we drove an hour up the road to Nashville, to do some more shopping at Bab.ies R US, Target and Walmart. I was relieved to see some color there. I kept joking with Tweety that she better not go into labor while I was there. She would be on her own. I mean I would call an ambulance, but don't expect me to be calm about it. So, when she started having pains while I was driving, I was extra nervous. Everything was cool though. To top it off, there was a torrential downpour on the way back to Hanganiggaville. I could barely see the highway, but I did notice Noah pass us in his ark. When we got back, I loaded up my stuff and made the trip back to Atlanta. It was so much easier coming home than going there. There was no construction and I was doing 90 -95 most of the way. That was my weekend, what about your? Did you do anything exciting? Anything boring? Anything at all?

It was written...

Food Tag Or MeMe Or Whatever You Wanna Call It

Mocha tagged me like I asked. I knew I could count on her. Here are the rules:

1. Pick your top ten favorite foods
2. Give your rationale (and photos would be nice but are optional).
3. Choose 3 -5 of your favorite food bloggers to invite.

This one is gonna be hard, since I only eat one time a day and don't really cook.

10 Grilled Cheese - I love cheese. I will eat grilled cheese sandwich morning, noon, or night. It's easy, and and tasty. Oh yeah, it gotta be Ve.lve.eta.

9 Pizza - I like the normal pizzas (pepperoni, sausage, cheese) but I really like the different styles. Around my way, I used to get a Philly Cheese Steak pizza. The best pizza I ever had was the stuffed pizza from Gior.da.no's in Chicago.

8 Cajun food - There's something about the spices in Cajun cooking. I bought some Creole seasoning and I put it on whatever I'm cooking.

7 Tuna sub from Su.bway - Two footlongs for $8.99 after 4 pm. I get it on Italian Herbs bread with pickles, lettuce, tomato and salt and pepper. They taste even better the next day.

6 Breakfast foods - I love pancakes, eggs, bacon and especially grits. Gotta have the grits with cheese, not sugar. When I make them, I put a little milk in to make the grits extra creamy. I used to hit up IH.OP at least once a week, mostly after the club let out. Me and my homies pulled the dine and dash at the IH.OP so many times, that I couldn't believe they still served us.

5 Grandma's Macaroni and Cheese - Here's a typical conversation between my grandmother and me. Her - When you coming to visit? Me - I don't know, I got a lot of work to do. Her - I'm making some macaroni. Me - I'll be there in 4 hours. It's that good. She gave me her recipe, but I can't make it like her.

4 Steak - I love steak. I don't eat it often because to me, its like a treat. It's not an everyday meal. My favorites are the rib eye and the New York strip. Looking forward to going to Ru.th Ch.ris steakhouse soon.

3 Mexican Food - Ta.co Be.ll is my new favorite fast food. I usually either get chalupas or the soft taco. I love nachos too. Every time I go to Appl.ebees or Frid.ays, I order them. I also make my own with ground turkey.

2 Pasta - F*ck Atkins. I will tear up some pasta. My favorite is fettucine alfredo. You can put whatever you want in it: chicken, salmon, shrimp etc. I make a chicken and broccoli alfredo dish that is out of this world. It looks like crap, but it tastes like heaven. I still need to work on the presentation, but its damn good if I say so myself.

1 Chicken Breasts - The only time I actually prefer white meat, if you catch my drift. You know brothers got a strong relationship with chicken, right? But I only eat chicken breasts (well wings too, but mostly breasts) This is my favorite dish to cook, because its easy. I'll throw it on the Foreman grill, or saute it in olive oil. Hook it up with bread crumbs or Parmesan cheese; I even bake it with lemons. Chicken breasts are my number one favorite food.


Who's getting tagged? Let's see, I don't follow rules very well, so I'm not gonna tag anyone. But if you do it, be sure to let me know so I can check out your delicacies.

It was written...

Father's Day

With Father's Day coming up, it got me to thinking about my relationship with my dad. Sorry, there's not really any comedy in this post. It might be a downer, but its been on my mind so I'm gonna talk about it. First let me say, I loved my father with all of my heart. I'm old enough to understand him now, even if I disagree with his choices. This isn't a pity party post, just an expression of how it made it me feel. I have never used the "I didn't have a father" excuse because my mother and grandmother did a great job providing for me and my siblings. We were not hood casualties, in fact I never really understood how tough things were until I got older. So, shout out to the strong women in my life who held me down and taught me the core values that I needed to become a man.

My father was around for the first 8 years of life. When we lived in New York, he was my number one role model. I wanted to emulate the coolness that he exuded. He was the one who passed down his love of music to me. My love of sports and writing I also attribute to him. When he and my mother separated, I was just a kid, I had no idea what the issues were. I just knew that he was gone. He went back to his hometown of Columbus, Georgia and I didn't really see him anymore.

A few years later, New York cost of living became too much for us, so we moved to Savannah, Georgia with my mother's mother. Since we were closer, we occasionally visit my father or he would take the Greyhound to visit us. Our relationship was mostly sending letters and school pictures and a week visit in the summer. I was okay with that. We were cool with each other, but nowhere as close as my sister was with him. The relationship grew more and more strained as time went on; visits became more and more infrequent. Child support was virtually non existent.

Around age 15, I got deep into the pro Black spirit that swept through rap music. You know reading Malcolm X, Africa medallions and the like. Part of what I learned during that period was about Black men taking care of their responsibilities. My father wasn't doing that, so I lost a ton of respect for him. Eventually, that turned into anger. I was angry that this man that claimed to love his children wasn't handling his business. I didn't want to be around him, even the during the sporadic summer visits to Columbus. This anger consumed me for the better part of high school. I vowed to myself that no matter what happened in my life, I would not end up like him.

What I didn't know at the time was that my father had a drug problem. I know that's not an excuse for his bad parenting, but its an explanation. Looking back as a seasoned adult, the signs were all there. When I was a kid, I used to see him sniffing powder and rolling his own cigarettes. I just didn't know that it was weed. As a somewhat sheltered teenager, I didn't recognize the residual odor in my father's house as marijuana. I didn't know back then that burnt spoons in his bedroom were for cooking heroin. I didn't know that his frequent stays in the Muscogee County jail were for drug possession. I simply saw him as a trifling negro and left it at that.

As I went to college and began to experience more of life, I had a strange (at least to me) desire to reconnect with my father. It all started with a letter I wrote him while he was in jail for the umpteenth time. I poured out my heart and emotions to him displaying a vulnerability that I seldom reveal. I told him how his behavior affected me yet still let him know that the door was open to a relationship if he wanted. I explained that I would not judge him for his faults, and even if we couldn't have a typical father - son relationship, we could still forge some type of communication. He responded with an equally eloquent letter, which revealed his thoughts and regrets. I saw glimpses in his writing of the genius that had been stifled for so long. He sent me some of his writing, poetry and prose, and believe me when I tell you this man was fucking brilliant. The correspondence culminated with a visit to the jail. He was scheduled to get out in a couple of months and we vowed that we would start fresh upon his release.

In January 1995, my father was released from his incarceration. I remember it like it was yesterday. He called on a Monday to tell me he was a free man once more. We made vague plans for a meeting, but I was wrapped up in my college life and my girlfriend at the time. I was living my life, ya know. That Wednesday when I was in class, I got a beep from my grandmother. I didn't immediately return her call, I had to play some spades in the student center before going to work. When I finally called her back, she asked me to come home. I told her I was on the way. I arrived not thinking anything of the request, but then she told me that my father had died. At first, the details weren't clear. Something about heart failure. I didn't cry, I was sad, but the tears didn't come. Later, I found out the real deal. My father died as a result of cocaine induced heart arrythmia. Apparently, first thing he did after getting out of jail was to go on a drug binge. I thought his time in lock up had straightened him out, but I was wrong. Even knowing his flaws, I still have love for my father. He was a brilliant man, that got caught up in an unhealthy lifestyle. When I tell this story, I offer no excuses for the man, just acceptance. Instead of being consumed with hate, like I used to be, I use his life as motivation to be a better man. I know that when I have children, I will do everything in my power not to waste any precious moments with them. Sorry for the depressing post, but Father's Day brought up these old feelings and I just had to express them.

It was written...

Keep It Real (edited)

Inspiration - Any rap song from the mid 90's. Seriously, they wore that phrase out.

What I'm Listening To - Jay-Z - The Blueprint

Question(s) I Asked Myself Today- "Who will be the first one offended by the Keep it Real movement today?"

I got a new initiative for the day. I'm gonna keep it real with people today. No sugarcoating to avoid your hurt feelings. No saying what you wanna hear. No agreeing for the sake of avoiding an argument. I'm gonna just put it out there. Don't ask me nothing if you don't wanna know how I really feel.

For example, the chick at the job who always asks if I like her outfit is gonna hear the real. "You look like you auditioning to be a stripper."

The coworker who prefaces every statement with "This might be a stupid question" is going to hear: "That was a stupid question"

The friend who asks if I think her boyfriend is cheating on her, is gonna get dates, times, names, and if I have them pictures

I'm gonna slap the one who keeps asking to borrow money with a wad of $20 bills, and then throw a copy of a Suze Orman book at him/her.

The cat who wants me to listen to his demo: I'm gonna tell him that he should stop rapping and immediately enroll himself in some vocational classes, b/c he has no future as an entertainer.

The girl who asks if I'm listening to her is gonna get greeted with silence, b/c I won't be listening to her. I aint even gonna pretend.

When the colleague downstairs asks me to do something for him, I'm not going to do it. I'm gonna tell him that I have my own responsibilities, and he should do it himself.

I'm gonna ask why dude why he wearing cordoroy pants in the summer.

I'm gonna ask old girl why her makeup looks like she put in on while riding a rollercoaster.

I'm gonna ask why you can't stop talking to me all damn day. I might leave out the damn. I ain't decided yet.

This is either gonna be fun, or a keeping it real goes wrong moment. I'll let you know how it goes. And now, another meme courtesy of Superstar Nic. I'll try to answer this one with the same Keep it Real approach I'm gonna have today at work.

Who, What, Where, Why Meme

THE WHO'S
Who is in the house with you? Me, Myself and I (De La Soul, not Beyonce)
Who are you thinking about now? The girl who ain't call me back. Trying to figure that one out. How dare she?
Who did you last talk to on the phone? Jessica at 1 AM
Whose house did you last go to? It's been awhile but I think a couple of Sundays ago, I was at Chi-towns crib
Whose birthday is next? Today's my mother's bday
Who was the last person you had dinner with? It's been a while, but Collipark and Chi-town (pre fall out # 2)
Who do you hope will take this survey? Some of them non updating cats. LOL

THE WHAT'S
What was the last thing you ate? a tuna sammich
What was the last thing you drank? big ass cup of water
What color pants are you wearing? I'm not wearing any right now, need to get ready for work, but the blog comes first.
What is the first thing you think when you wake up? Where the f*ck is my phone so I can turn this alarm off?
What do you need right now? ChezNiki and Chele think I need some booty, but I think I need a vacation
What is the closest item near you that is blue?My mousepad
What are you wearing on your feet? socks
What instant messaging service do you use? yahoo
What is your favorite color? don't really have one, but I'll say whatever I look good in.
What is your most used away message? Invisible to everyone, I have seriously bad IM ettiquette. Half the time I forget to go available
What is your favorite website? Besides my blog, TV guide.com
What's your favorite shoe brand? I'm not a shoe/sneaker person.
What song do you currently hear? Kanye West - Celebration b/c my phone is ringing

THE WHERE'S
Where do you live? ATL, Gawja/what we do for ya/bull dogging hoez like them Georgetown Hoyas (Outkast - Rosa Parks)
Where is your phone? on top of my computer speaker
Where do you sleep? Most of the time in the bed, but sometimes the sofa.
Where did you get the shirt you're wearing? Walmart - just a white tee, yup in my white tee (Dem Franchise Boyz -White Tee)

THE WHEN'S
When is your birthday? November 25th, 1974
When did you last burn a candle? I can't remember but it was probably when I "forgot" to pay my light bill a few years back.
When did you wake up? 8:00 Am
When did you do laundry last? doing some right now

THE WHY'S
Why does basically half the world have a Myspace or Blog? I can't speak for 3 billion people
You really think half the world has one? Nope, there are too many people that don't have access to computer technology
Why did you take this particular survey? Cuz a pretty lady asked me to.
Why are you in love? Cuz she popping, she bouncing, she rolling, and she working that pole (T- Pain - In Love Wit A Stripper)


EDIT: 6PM: So keeping it real went okay, but I thought it would be more drama. Mostly everybody thought I was joking. I had a couple of highlights though: This other manager came up to me and asked me to pull a report for his team. I said I'm too busy, this is something that you should know how to do. He just stood there looking at me, like he couldnt believe it. Then to top it off, I said "Anything else? I'm busy" and walked away. It was too hilarious.

Secondly the stripper wannabe started laughing. I told her I wasn't joking, but she thought I was trying to keep a straight face. I also told her to stop talking to me, but she disregarded that too.

I also used the stupid question line, but again they thought I was just joking.

Maybe I didn't Keep it Real enough. Oh, well there's always tomorrow.

It was written...

A Meandering Mind on Monday

Due to the fact that I hibernated (see, I used your word Mocha) all weekend and don't have anything to write about, this post is going to be random as hell. Just some thoughts that went through my mind as I did not a damn thing this weekend. Its been a while since I did this, so just bear with me. I'll try to get back with a real post on Tuesday.

I am not a morning person at all. I snapped on the poor girl from work who called me Saturday. Told her "this is not important enough for you to call me this early" and hung up. It really wasn't important enough, but now she gonna be afraid of me.

Speaking of work, I think I'm gonna seriously looking for a new gig starting tomorrow. I like what I do, but I'm getting pimped. Respect is cool, but eventually they gonna have to pay me commensurate to what I do, not for what the position is.

I am going through some serious football withdrawal. I even tried to watch those other 2 kinds of football this weekend: World Cup Soccer and Arena Football. That didn't do it for me. I ended up watching some classic (read old) college football on Turn.er Sou.th.

My cable company sucks. A couple of months ago, my cable was out for 3 or 4 days before they fixed it. Sunday, I was looking for the address of the payment center and had to jump through hoops to get it. If I wanted to pay online, I would have done that, bastards. Stop trying to force me to do it your way. I swear if I didn't have my internet through them, I would get a dish and be done with them.

How come I can instant message all day and not get bored, but if I'm on the phone, I try to end the call as quickly as possible?

How much money do you have to spend on skin care products before you are considered a metrosexual? The cashier at Wal.greens was looking at me like I was suspect the other night.

Speaking of skin care, I haven't had pimples since I was 17. Now all of a sudden, I got acne to take care of. Anybody got any tips for a brother? I swear between last month's pinkeye and this month's blemishes, I feel like I'm reverting back to high school. What's next, I'm a get mono or something?

That new mustache and beard trimmer is gonna come in handy when I'm too lazy to go to the barber shop.

Damn you, Liquor and TV for getting me hooked on YouTube. Like I need another online obsession. I been watching obscure hip hop videos all weekend cuz of you.

My brother is getting married August 19th. He better not have me wearing a white tuxedo. Seriously, that's a no go. And I know you know about the blog. Our nephew told me when y'all were over here the other day.

There is a commandment that says "Thou shalt not kill", right? So why are all the conservative Christians celebrating the death of that Zar.cawi dude? Don't get me wrong, he deserved to die a slow agonizing death, but should we really be excited that we got to kill him? Seems a little hypocritical to me.

I was looking through some old pictures and came to the conclusion that someone needs to bring the box haircut back. My ish was tight and I even had the diagonal part going on. They brought back the 'fro, so its time for the flattop to come back in style. You wanna see?

The NBA playoffs have been great this year. I don't think I watched any regular season games, but the playoffs have been tight.

I can't remember the last time I paid for a CD.

Somebody told me that Friday's post was lazy. Do you know how long it took me to find and upload those pictures? And if you thought that was lazy, what you think about this one? LOL

How I keep getting spam in my comments? I don't wanna turn the word verification on, but I might have to. They hit me up 5 times on Sunday.

95 degrees is too hot. I know its almost summer, but come on Sun. Chill out for a minute. We still got July and August for you to shine. I actually left my crib, got in my car and concluded it was too hot for me to go anywhere, so I turned back around.

I think my real life friends are getting jealous of my online friends. I know they probably wont admit it, but its true. I keep hearing, "You don't ever call anymore" and stuff like that.

Truth be told, I don't ever call anyone, unless I'm returning a phone call. That's just anti social T. at work. I looked at my last 20 outgoing calls and I didn't initiate any of those conversations, except for one and she didn't even call me back. All together now: awww, poor T. LOL

Somebody tag a brotha. Just one of you, not everybody all at once.

It was written...

Every Breath You Take... I'll Be Watching You AKA Women I Would Stalk

Inspiration - "Every Breath You Take" The Police "Every breath you take/Every move you make/Every bond you break/Every step you take/I'll be watching you." True Stalker Anthem

What I'm Listening To - "Voodoo" - D'Angelo

Question(s) I Asked Myself Today - "Why am I bothering to write this post when Blogger isn't going to let me post it?"

Blogger has been bugging all week. I hope you all got a chance to read my stalker story. If not, check it out. I been writing about stalkers all week. I think its time for me to tell you about some women that I would stalk. If any law enforcement or legal representatives are reading this, let me just say that this is a joke. I would never actually stalk these women. Now that the legal disclaimer is out of the way, here are my current potential stalkees.

Gabrielle Union - Do I really need to say anything else? Look at how beautiful she is. And she seems like she has a good personality too.

Kerry Washington - I been a fan since I saw her in that movie "Lift" about shoplifting. She's a great actress and pretty too. She has that appproachable beauty about her. Like on a good day, T. could actually pull her.

Amerie - Them long legs got a brother open. She is a tad skinny for my tastes, but she looks exotic and can sing.

Sanaa Lathan - I should have been her co star in "Brown Sugar." What Gaye Diggs know about hip hop. I can answer that question about when I fell in love with hip hop. It was 1983, Run DMC's "Rock Box." I'll give her a pass for that "Something New" movie. When she wanna come back to the brothas, I'll be waiting.

Jill Marie Jones - My favorite "Girlfriend" That chocolate skin and those luscious lips do it for me.

Naomi Campbell - Theres no competition between her and Tyra. I would take Naomi in a heartbeat. I probably couldn't deal with her attitude, but thats okay, this is just a fantasy stalking. By the way, do you know how hard it is to find a picture of her wearing clothes. She always naked.

Thandie Newton - Just look at the picture. Plus she would fulfill my Black woman with a British accent fetish.

Erykah Badu - She would be my weird girl stalkee. Plus I know she like hip hop heads. I wanna just talk to her and see how her brain works.

HERE ARE SOME OF MY FORMER STALKEES:

Lark Voorhies: I hated "Saved by the Bell, but I watched it for her. Same with that LL sitcom.

Lauryn Hill - Back when she used to rap, she was the perfect woman. She was beautiful, and an ill lyricist. Why'd she had to go crazy (allegedly) and stop rapping?

Pam Grier - I started watching her movies when I was 15 or 16. She was the sexiest thing in the movies. Even though the flicks were old, I had major lust for Foxy Brown and Sheba, Baby. It's hard to find pictures of her with clothes on too.

Janet Jackson - Remember the video for "Pleasure Principle"? That was when Janet was at her finest in those tight black jeans. Too bad I couldn't find a picture of that.

Ananda Lewis - I'm talking about MTV Ananda, not BET Ananda. Once she got rid of that big hair, she was the one. She still looks good, I just can't stand to hear her talk. Something about her voice just annoys me.

Lisa Bonet - I remember renting Angel Heart and rewinding that sex scene over and over and over again.

Vanessa Williams - The first Black Miss America, and subject of my first wet dream. TMI, I know, but you guys can handle it.

Okay, now that I officially have made myself a groupie, its your turn. Who would you stalk? It doesn't have to be a celebrity, it could be anyone. Perhaps a handsome, charming Blogger in Atlanta? LOL. Here's hoping that Blogger will actually let you comment.

It was written...

My First Stalker (Part 2)

Click Here for Part 1

After my birthday in November, things really started to pick up with the secret admirer. I received several more notes from “Angel.”, each one becoming more bold and hinting that she would soon reveal herself. My initial excitement gave way to a feeling of annoyance. This woman (at least I hoped it was a woman) was getting on my last nerve with her cryptic notes. I still had no idea who she was and I was almost to the point that I didn’t care. Around the 15th of December she left a letter that crossed the line.

I was heading home after a long day at work. It was winter break so I had picked up some extra hours. I walked to my car with a limp, the result of a 12 hour shift and a nasty spill on a wet floor. I’ll be the first to admit, I was not in a good mood. Under my windshield wiper was another note. It read, “I know you think you are happy with Lisa, but she can’t make you happy like I can. I will reveal myself to you by Christmas and we can live in euphoric bliss for the rest of our days” What the fuck?!?! Did she just mention my girl by name? I decided to take my frustrations out on my coworkers. I ran back to the dietary department, unfazed by the fatigue that a few moments prior had rendered me listless. Clutching the mysterious letter, I demanded that “Angel” show herself.

“Who is Angel? Who keeps leaving these notes?”

I made my rounds throughout the various cliques desperate for answers. I interrogated the crazy crew, the older ladies, the lifers and the college students. No one would budge. My frustration grew as I realized that I would not get answers.

“I know whoever wrote this letter better not ever mention my girls name again!!!”

Yosetta initially laughed then realized that I was not joking around. I had full intentions of tearing that building up in my search for Angel. But alas, I still came up empty handed.

I went home, took a shower and went to see Lisa. By the time I got there, she had already heard about my “breakdown” at work, courtesy of her aunt. I came clean with her and showed her the notes. I relayed the entire story to her and while she was disappointed that I didn’t tell her earlier, Lisa was sympathetic to my plight. She’s an Aries, so she was a little jealous, but she still understood. I actually dreaded going back to work the next day for fear that I would get another note. To top it off, I had committed myself to another 12 hour day. Contrary to what I feared, everything at work was cool. Nobody bothered me and right before I got off, I got a pleasant surprise. Lisa had taken the bus up to my job to see me. I know what her true intentions were, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to see her. I introduced her to all my coworkers, (except the hot nurses) and we chilled in the break room. Lisa was making her presence felt and marking her territory so to speak. Like I said, it was all good with me.

Now on the climax of my little story: A couple of days before Christmas, I was doing my usual duty of pushing the food carts upstairs. I corralled the carts into the elevator and pushed the button to take me to the 7th floor. Oblivious to my surroundings, and reciting a Nas lyric to myself, I was jarred back to consciousness by a voice that called out “Hold the elevator please.” I looked up and saw Rosilyn, a co worker of mine from the dietary department. At first I did n’t notice that she was not wearing the disgustingly puke green uniform that the ladies wore; she was wearing jeans and a sweater and holding a plastic bag from Sears. She spoke in a hushed tone that verged on mumbling.

“Hey, Terrance. I have something for you.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I told you that I had a Christmas surprise for you, so surprise!”

She extended her hand to me and offered me the bag from her outreached grasp. Without thinking, I took the bag and looked in it. It ain’t everyday a brother gets a present. It was then that the realization hit me like the impact of a Volvo in a crash test.

“You are Angel?”

She nodded sheepishly. I wanted to say something clever but the only thing that came to mind was “SHIT!!!”

“SHIT!!!” I exclaimed.

Here was the problem. Aside from the fact that I had a girlfriend that I was very much in like with, Rosilyn was a good 25 years older than me. I had just turned 20, and she was 46. Her 17 year old daughter was far closer to my age range than she was. When I thought about whom my secret admirer could be, she had never crossed my mind. Rosilyn was the type of unassuming character that one could easily forget was in the room. She just was not on my radar at all. Add in the fact that her facial features were reminiscent of Biggie Smalls’ and you can see why I was not exactly thrilled with the revelation. Hell, I can get with “May-December” romances as much as the next guy, but this was too much for my young mind to grasp. This had to be the longest ride in the history of elevators. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that Rosilyn had pushed the stop button.

“You aren’t happy that you finally know?”

“Honestly, I wish you would have just kept this to yourself. I have a girlfriend”

“I know, you are dating Virginia’s daughter. But she’s too young to make you happy.”

“She’s the same age as me, and do not talk about her.”

“Open your gift, Terrance.”

When the elevator finally dinged on the 7th floor, I scurried out with the 2 food carts in tow. I figured that Rosilyn would wait by the elevators while I handled my business. Much to my chagrin, she followed me in the hopes of continuing our conversation. I was in full avoidance mode. I picked up my gait in an attempt to elude her, but Rosilyn was right beside me.

“I got you a scarf”

“I can’t accept that from you.” I replied. What I was really thinking was “We live in Savannah, its 67 degrees outside. Why would you get me a scarf, you crazy old lady?

“I insist, it’s a small token of how I feel about you”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough, I’ve been watching you for a couple years now.”

That last line did it. This was no crush. This wasn’t infatuation. This was full fledged obsession. I realized that Rosilyn was crazy, deranged. I had never so much as uttered 2 words to Rosilyn and now I find out that she has been watching me since I was a fresh faced 18 year old. I didn’t know what to do next, but I knew that I could not further indulge her. So I said:

“I have a girlfriend and I don’t think she would appreciate me accepting gifts from other women. I get that you like me, but I can’t return those feelings.”

“Oh, you will!!!” she replied evilly and stormed off in the other direction. I was so blowed by the situation that I took the stairs down and hid out for awhile in the morgue. I later told the story to Yosetta and Alphonso, who in true friendship fashion, laughed their asses off. I told Lisa and even she was amused by the older woman that wanted me. I guess she realized that Rosilyn was no threat.

The next couple months at work were uncomfortable to say the least. I tried my best to avoid Rosilyn and never speak of what transpired. I began to feel her furtive glances searing a hole through me. No matter where I went in the department, it seems that she was there. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and got tired of being nice. I in no uncertain terms, demanded that she stop following me around. Why’d I do that? It’s like I awakened a sleeping beast. I remember going home one day after work and seeing her car right behind mine. I had to do like they do on TV to realize that I had a tail. I took 4 left turns, and she was still behind me. There wasn’t any doubt about it: Rosilyn was trying to follow me home. A well timed red light finally got her off my trail. Then one day, the phone rang and it was Rosilyn. How the hell did she get my number? The phone was not listed in my name. She pleaded with me to give her a chance and talked about how she could make me happier than any woman in the world could. I was just disgusted. I hung up on her and she called me back from a blocked number. I stopped answering the phone, and she started leaving messages. This situation was becoming untenable.

The final straw was when I saw her driving up and down my street one night. I lived on a circle, deep in a residential neighborhood. There was no way that she could have just been “in the neighborhood.” I went outside to confront her, and she sped off. Hell, she was caught. Back at work, she caught a nasty, mean spirited cuss out. I was so mean, that I won’t even repeat what I said. But I did it with a purpose; she crossed another line when she came to my street. I discovered that my harsh words didn’t deter her as she called my home again that night. This time I was at my wits end. So what did I do? For the first (and only) time in my life, T. was a mama’s boy. I told my mother what was happening. My mother promptly called Rosilyn and told her that she better leave her baby alone. She threatened her with a restraining order, calling the police, and calling the EEOC to report her for sexual harassment. I was shocked and wondered how come I didn’t think of that. To be fair, this was my first experience with a stalker, but moms handled that shit in like 2 minutes. Rosilyn never called me again, and I never saw her car on my block anymore. I felt bad for not being able to handle the situation myself, but I was damn sure relieved that it was over.

Shortly after Rosilyn’s conversation with my mother, she quit the job and everything went back to normal. I went back to mingling with the older ladies, talking shit with the crazy crew, shooting the breeze with the college students, and flirting with the hot nurses. But I was never quite the same after being stalked for the first time. I was a lot more careful of what I said, and who I said it to. I became concerned with peoples motives. Hell, I think this was the genesis of my cynicism. But like just about all of life’s lessons, this story is funny in retrospect. I only wish I didn’t have 2 more stalkers after this one.

Tell me your stalker stories. Have you been the stalker or the stalkee? How did you wind up getting rid of them? Indulge a brother with your tales.

It was written…

My First Stalker (part 1)

You know how the Discovery Channel has “Shark Week?” Well I guess this is my blog's “Stalker Week.” Continuing the theme from Monday’s post, I wanna tell you about my first stalker. I promise I will post part 2 tomorrow. I have already written it, it just was getting too long.

I was 18 years old, going to college and working a part time job at St. Joseph’s Hospital. I worked in the dietary department, which was just a fancy way of saying kitchen. I was somewhat an anomaly in the department: educated, young, and somewhat bougie. My co workers generally fell in one of two categories. First, you had the older, high school dropouts. Most of the women were 50 and over, and looked like life had been hard to them. I mean instead of washing dishes and preparing food, they looked like they were picking cotton under a blazing Mississippi sun. The other group consisted of workers from a halfway house. Most of them were developmentally challenged, and had either a physical or mental handicap. Of course, there were other types who worked there too, like the poor college students like me and the career stock boy types, but they were in the minority. I’ll admit, it was a little disconcerting at first. I mean, what did a young recent high school graduate have in common with these co workers. Well, for one, we were all Black (except the department head, who was some indescribable montage of racial matter) and two we were all getting pimped for the minimum and sub minimum wage. It almost seems unreal, but I started off making $4.75 an hour to wash dishes and push around the patient food carts. It was a simple job, nothing really to it, but still, can I get a little change? The halfway house crew was in even worse shape as half their paycheck went to Chatham County for their housing and counseling. As I became more comfortable in my surroundings, I made it my mission to build a bond with my fellow co workers. Before long, I was a member of all the cliques in the dietary department. I vibed with the older ladies, the “crazy” crew, the college students, and the lifers. I effortlessly transitioned from conversations about the latest movie to conversations about the Cash 3 numbers to more banal discussions of a woman’s derriere. One of my favorite members of the "crazy" crew used to walk around all day commenting on asses and saying he was “a backyard man.” Good times, LOL. Before you knew it, T. Casanova had taken over as the unofficial president of the dietary department.

The best parts of my work day were 4:30 and 6:30. That’s when lucky T. got to push the carts of food upstairs. There were 7 floors in the hospital and 2 carts per floor. These carts were pretty big, I could manage to fit 2 in the service elevators, pushing one and pulling the other. Now you know once I got to the nurses station I had to show out. I took every opportunity to chat up the hot nurses while I was delivering the food. They were always friendly and cordial, even though they were probably 7 – 10 years older than me and not giving me any play. My favorite nurses were on the 3rd, 5th, and 7th floors. They way they filled out those scrubs…okay, sorry I got carried away. Anyway the hot nurses almost made me forget that I was a germophobe working in a pit of pestilence. The point of this digression is that I was well known around the hospital and that those nurses were HOT!!!

I had been working at the hospital for about a year and a half, when the drama went down. I was dating Lisa, one of the Aries from my trilogy. Out of sheer coincidence, Lisa’s mother and aunt also worked in the same department, so I had to be careful with my flirtatious nature. I mostly hung out with Yosetta, a girl I went to high school with at work and her younger brother Alphonso. We used to laugh and joke and play practical jokes on each other all the time. So when I found a secret admirer note on my car one night after work, I just knew it was them messing with me. The note read “T. I have been noticing you and wish I had the courage to speak to you. You are a very handsome and charming young man and I hope that I get to know you better.” It was signed Angel. Like I said, I thought it was a joke and immediately showed it to my friends, laughing hysterically. They denied having anything to do with the note, but in my mind, I knew it was them.

A couple of months went by and I had forgotten all about the secret admirer letter. Besides, I had a serious steady girlfriend and wasn’t really thinking about who could be writing me notes. Out of the blue, I received another note on my car. This time, I was intrigued. It couldn’t be Yosetta, she wouldn’t go that far for a joke. I mean I would, but she wouldn’t. That’s when I got the first inkling that this could be real. I went into full on Columbo mode, comparing people’s handwriting to my secret admirer’s penmanship. It was like CSI: Savannah in there, only without the neatly wrapped up conclusion. Yeah, I had no idea who wrote it, but I had some ideas. In my young mind, it could only be a pretty woman who was jocking me. There was Linda and Shandrena from the cafeteria. They were both sexy. Then there was the nurses upstairs. I already mentioned how hot they were. My ego swelled to gigantic proportions at the prospect of one of these beautiful ladies wanting to get at me. I don’t think I’m giving away the story by telling you now, it was NOT one of my fantasy women.

A week before my 20th birthday, I found another note on my car. This one said that she would be leaving me a gift for my birthday. From that I deduced that it had to be someone who knew me personally, not just seen me around. It was time for a stakeout. On my birthday, I had my homeboy Kareem posted up in the parking lot watching my car. (Yeah, we were dumb) Although he didn’t know all my coworkers, he could describe her to me and I would finally know who it was. Kareem spent my entire 4 hour shift watching the ride without results. Either she chickened out, or Kareem somehow blew his cover. Regardless, my birthday passed with no contact from the secret admirer. The next day however I found a wrapped present on my car with a note that said Happy Birthday. Again the note was signed Angel. I opened the gift and it was some cologne. I can’t remember what kind it was, but it was the kind that you used to get from the Mary Kay books, and now can find at the discount perfume shop in the mall. I was intrigued at what kind of person would buy me a (cheap) birthday gift but not even speak to me. Was it someone I saw everyday, maybe even had a conversation with? I would soon find out who my secret admirer was and learn a little something about stalkers in the process.