So my big mouth almost caused a conflict for the first time in years…It all started when I went over my boys apartment complex to help paint one of his units. Confused? My boy owns an apartment building, one of his triflin’ ass tenants dipped in the middle of the night without payin’ the rent. Such people are often people with little regard for cleanliness. By DC law, a unit must be repainted every time a new tenant rents the place out. Friday, my boy scoops me out of the blue to run to Home Depot so he can stock up on the necessary supplies needed for five people painting an apartment unit. Many jokes were cracked, and many laughs were had. He got mad because I was making Howard jokes, like, “Dog, you know I can’t read, I graduated from Howard.” Seeing as tho’ we both graduated from Howard, he was a little peeved that I was so vocal about it around non- Howardites…namely white people. He didn’t say this, but I know that’s how he felt. Yeah, I got my degree from a great institution, but not every experience is as golden as the next. I developed more as a person and thinker than I did as an academian. It was a joke he understood, he went to Howard with me. I didn’t care about “other” people hearing. They’ll have their opinions regardless. And yeah, maybe I wasn’t helping with the wise cracks, but they couldn’t help but view me as a charismatic and intelligent person. We were all laughing, and not in that “Look at that idiot make a fool of himself way”. ‘Least I don’t feel that way.
The comedy is I was telling my boy what he needed for the painting experience, and he wouldn’t listen to me, but that was his main reason for bringing me. He didn’t know what to get for this mission, and I did. The irony is, even tho’ I was joking around a lot, I still was telling him everything that he was askin’ everybody else for. But he wasn’t listening to me… Ah, the talk of me dogging Howard, but not listening to your own brother…for shame :o) Anyways, we leave Home Depot, hit Giant up for breakfast food for the volunteers. Being a smart businessman, he knows if he ain’t gon’ pay the help, he can at least feed em. I said off the break I wasn’t going to be there @ no 9:00 in the mornin’ for breakfast. We cop the food, he looks out for me on the box of mini donuts. We go to his crib, which I haven’t seen since I moved him in. We talked about the music industry, watched some old videos, and looked at the “Superman” video on the 8 Mile DVD. It was…interesting. Translation: Don’t let your kids see it. Since I was tired before he scooped me, I told him to drop me off. I understood I was his entertainment until his girl got into town, which was any minute now. I showed him the beginning to Way of the Gun prior to him bouncing and that was that. Had a few donuts and my chicken fingers that I was going to heat up before he scooped me.
Which leads me to Saturday and my aforementioned big mouth. Woke up in pain with a bad stomach. Should not have half way heated up those damn chicken fingers and fries and wolfed them down like that. Should not have eaten any damn donuts either. Definitely shouldn’t have gone right to sleep after, but hey, whatever. I get to the painting party late due to sour tummy. When I arrive, everybody is in a jovial mood, which in turn lifts me out of my somber “I have a sour tummy” mood. I immediately get into the fray of joking and shit talking, especially since my boy Jumand is there. Lynn was nice enough to come and keep me company, which she was clowned for at some point I’m sure. There was this older sister there that I hit it off with on the humor tip when I accidentally shook her hand too hard when we were introduced. For a couple of hours she tossed jokes and insults, and I volleyed some back. Then it happened.
I am a very quick witted person, and if someone gets into a session of throwing quick retorts, I go into auto pilot. Meaning, jokes can fly out of my mouth in rapid succession without pre- meditation, sometimes a recipe for disaster. She threw out a joke about masturbation towards me, and I retorted with a completely inappropriate fellatio joke. (Don’t be surprised, I have a pretty crass sense of humor sometimes) It wasn’t said with malice, it was just an on- the- fly- rebuttal. At first she seemed to take it in stride…but soon it was apparent to me that she was pretty irate. Later realizing I took it a bit too far, I apologized. It didn’t occur that I didn’t really know her that well, but I thought all was fair since she felt comfortable throwing masturbation jokes, which I wasn’t offended by. Trying to apologize again became a chore that completely killed my euphoria, and sent me back to sour tummy land. I let some blatant attacks on my man- go (male ego…which is worse than your typical run of the mill ego) go because I felt she was rightfully upset. Suggestions of her beating me and other comments I would normally jump on I let slide, I was wrong. I took said comments with one of those game show smiles, y’know the ones that look like they hurt because they aren’t natural. She knew I felt guilty, so she hammed it up a bit. It’s cool, we were at least speaking like adults after about an hour passed. Was really embarrassed when I found out she was West Indian. A lot of women don’t play that in that culture, and if they do, they ain’t too public about it.
After we got back into semi- joke mode, we were about done. I had paint on everything from my hair, to my glasses, to my Tims. We all decided we would eat at Negril and Mr. Landlord could pay for it. We chopped it up, but I couldn’t even enjoy the food because I was still in sour tummy land. Watched as everybody else ate while I downed a Jamaican pineapple soda. Took my food to go because it looked like it was about to storm something terrible. The dinner was enjoyable, and so was the food once I got to some place I could enjoy it. Finally watched "Children of the Corn" with Lynn. She was scared to watch it because of its reputation for scaring the Bejeezus out of folk. She only watched it because it was still daylight outside...scary ass. Lynn's the coolest. I’ll tell ya’ll about Sunday later.
Peace!
PS- To the sister that I offended during the paint party, I sincerely apologize. There, now the whole world knows. Sheesh, the lengths one must go to to humble themselves sometimes...

Random Thought #596: Why is it not an abnormality for black men to shift their voice one or two octaves higher in a corporate environment so as to not be threatening? Noticed I'm one of the many who do this in the day to day small talk that I so abhor. Cats with high status and older dudes tend to do this less, but that "professional voice" we put on is always a higher voice. This wasn't taught to me overtly, so where the hell did I pick that shit up?! Got to get on some entreprenurial type shit to break out of that, man, for real.

Hey ya'll...
Aight, anybody who knows me knows that I have always been a hometown sports fan. Meaning, I like the Redskins (despite the racist moniker) and the Wizards through rain, sleet, or snow. That being said, you may remember my frustration a couple of days ago when we lost to the frickin' Golden State Warriors, again. Well, my Wizards (I also hate this racist moniker) redeemed themselves as they beat the Trailblazers in Portland! In fact, we never lost our lead, or even tied! The only blow was how the crowd reacted when an anti- war demonstrator laid in the middle of the court during a break. I guess basketball is more important thean this war bullshit. Then, the commentators illustrated how one of the staff on the Wizards bench is a world war II veteran, as he cheered with the rest of the crowd when the protestor was carried off. Why would a vetran of any real war, applaud this bullshit that's going on now. I'm sure he's seen some shit during WW II, man. Folks are so brainwashed on this Iraq crap it's not even funny. That looming sense of fear that America had when 9/11 happened, or for Metro Area residents, the Sniper bullshit...those people over there deal with every day. They never know when a car bombing is going to happen, or when a bunch of opposing sides are going to start bustin in the streets! We see and hear so much raw shit on the news on a regular basis, we've become desensitized to what goes on in the world. Dog, people are dying in this war, and there is no legitimate reason behind it. We gave Sadaam all those missles and all that money, he was America's best friend during the Reagan Administration...now you want to be on some bullshit?! Here's something I wrote yesterday...it's from the perspective of a 15 year old boy overseas in the middle east, but he could easily be vietnamese, or japanese. Just a little devils advocate so people realize there are faces and stories to the people who die over there, whether the news says so or not.
The Detour

Just like every other day for the last five or so years
He came to my door to go to school
A straight A student with dreams of living abroad
We both worked hard
While other pupils were just space dust
We were stars
Stellar super novas who walked past foreign soldiers every day on our way to school
Today, he had his book bag, which he never liked to wear because it wasn’t “American” to do so
He came to the door with a massive grin
Anxious to ditch school to head in town towards the inn where they served all the American’s
Once on a weekend we got in trouble for that
So we dare not go there again
But here he is with this wide- eyed grin
We agreed that we were going to be friends to the end
So if one of us got in trouble,
Then the other had to follow suit and jump in
It was our pact
Undeniable like one plus one
Just fact
So here we are again headed towards the inn except this time while schools in session
On the way,
He talked about how he was going to make a difference one day
Our people would no longer be killed
This cannot be Allah’s will
But we are only fifteen, so let’s be real
(Besides, what did we really understand of God at our age?)
We are too young for politics and just right for the killing fields
Neither option leaves us feeling thrilled
So, in an attempt to change our fate we acquire life skills
Jobs most of you don’t want to do, but more than pay the bills
And we go to school
But not today, for you see
We
Are on our way to the inn
The same place where the American GI men whore our women
Talking evil talk while downing tonic and gin
They become your enemy once they live here
They come as your friends
My best friend is a good person
But he hates them
Which should have raised the question
Why is he greeting every one of them,
With a grin?

He walks over to the highest ranking soldier and orders him a round
To our surprise, he asks us to sit down
The officer spoke at length about his family and his home that he wanted to protect
So not coming here to police us would be like neglect
He said this wasn’t about religion, or politics, or even a personal agenda
This was about power
And we were all pawns
And as he yawned
My friend pulled a folded note that was attached to his bag by a string
Careful not to break the thing in the process
With a smile that would beguile most any man
He placed the note in the officers free hand
My friend told him to read it aloud as the inebriated officer ordered another round
The note said:
This is for the rape of my lands under the guise of freedom and Good Samaritan masks that hide political sanctions of genocide for economic growth of everybody but the ones who need it. For the bullets that knocked on my door leaving younger siblings on the floor covered in the same blood that flows through you veins. This is for the war you started that you yourself would never feel the effects of. This is for the patrols on my streets that run through my town. For the carnage you have brought. For the liquor you’ve bought which turned into rape and unclaimed children. For the double- talk you do in the news, speaking against chemical warfare when you place your HIV disease in every foreign country you see as a potential colony. You even do it to your own for population control purposes. This is for all the stories that didn’t get to show their other side as every story should. This is for you who will at least know truth, because my story will never air on your evening news. Just the fact some GI’s died.
And as he exposed the bomb in his book bag, about to pull the string,
He asked the officer,
“Now if you were me,
What would you do?”
All the while hoping that this would somehow, make a difference

Those who frequent my journal may find this amusing...
If you recall, I was without my truck for over a week due to transmission problems being handled by a not- so- swift Aamco "service" team. When it was all said and done, I paid just under $1,900 to get my transmission fixed. But, the service only came with a one year warranty. Do you know that to get a lifetime warranty, which is non- transferrable mind you, they want me to pay another $757 on top of the $1,900 I already paid?! I've never heard of $2,600 for a transmission in any book! When the guy told me, I didn't even have the energy to kirk out...besides, I had a show to do that day for Suitland High School.
Speaking of which, ya'll may want to check out the venting page @ illpoets.com to see what happened with me and the crew on Friday.
SATURDAY-
Consisted of me being entirely exhausted and trying to catch up on some sleep before I helped fellow illpoet.com member, LaQuis Harkins move to her new spot.
*Note: Whenever someone says they only have a couple of boxes to move, but don't know the exact number, assume you got a gang of shit to move. Dude, after hooking up with LaQuis @ the Public Storage/ Uhaul rental spot, we headed out to her crib. Found out that a couple boxes and a couch and a futon equated to an entire Uhaul truck. In fact, why rent a Uhaul if you ain't have mad shit to haul, right? Dog, after movin' the couch with this cool brother named John (Laquis' friend/ a fellow poet/ all- around good guy), my arms were dead. I am officially out of shape! I've never been out of shape in my life. My arms are still hurting right now. Sure, she had a lot to move. And sure she live on the second floor with no elevator. And sure I hadn't had a for real meal since Thursday, not to mention I hadn't eaten at all thus far on Saturday. And sure we had to go around the back of the building to get to the stair that lead up to her apartment...but that still doesn't change the fact I am out of shape. When I moved last year, my apartment was on the fourth floor, and I had no problems with feeling like my arms or legs were dead weight. Shit, Drew was a track star, I might hire him on some Billy Blanks shit to get my ass back into cardiovascular shape. What was supposed to be a 2pm- 5pm move didn't jump off until about 3:30, and didn't end until about 8. I thanked Laquis for the experience, needed to know how much I slipped...might have thought I was better off than I actually am. She hooked me up with some Papa Johns for my troubles, which I wouldn't have accepted had Lynn been home when we were ordering. I got to Lynn's about 9:30, and crushed a slice and a half of cheese pizza before she walked in to tell me about the next shit that happened in her day. We exchanged events while we went to find a better parking space for my truck...didn't want to leave it around the corner all night. Found a spot right out front. Came in and watched a repeat of SNL after talking for a bit. Decided I didn't want to start my new DVD if Lynn was going to fall asleep. That pisses me off. Fell asleep due to boredom.
SUNDAY-
Most of my day consisted of watching basketball and avoiding the breaking news on the "war" whenever possible. Played some GTA III on the Playstation 2 just for kicks, haven't done to much gaming lately, especially on my PS2. Saw Lynn's best friend Aneesah, and my friend too...intended to watch my new DVD purchase, Way of the Gun, but the Wizards were playing. We lost to Golde State, man. Correction, we lost to Arenas. How these dudes intend to make the playoffs losing to teams like Golden State is beyond me. We're fighting for the last playoff spot and giving away easy games. Startin to get mad again, let's change the subject. Way of the Gun was good as hell, as was Bound. Way... was mad funny... the beiinning had me sold. The story was a little choppy, and the volume was to unstable...one music there are inaudible whispers, the next blaring music...Still entertaining tho'. One of those movies you appreciate on DVD, not so much on the big screen. Bound was dope. Not the type of movie you want your mother to watch seeing as tho' there is a lot of lesbian "interaction", but an opportunity to see Jennifer Till all hot and heavy and a good directorial effort from the cats who brought us The Matrix is worth it to me. Shit, Gena Gershon even looked desirable in that skanky Angelina Jolie type of way after I saw the movie. It was a good plot tho'; Joe Pantoliano stole the movie in my opinion. Some of the camera work reminded me of Reqieum for A Dream, which I really dug. I watched Way and called it a night as soon as the credits rolled at about 2:15am.
Good weekend...

Well, I'm supposed to go back to my high school for this poetry event tomorrow and do a poem or two. Hmph, I hated my high school, but I'm kinda excited. Don't exactly know what to expect, so I intend to approach this event with no expectations. Wondering if my piece is going to be a little beyond the students. Wondering if I'll see any teachers from when I was there...that's be wild. Not that they would remember me, but I'd probably remnember most of them. I'd like to really do my thing tomorrow; I even took the time to memorize a poem which I haven't done in a dew months. Also, some of the world famous illpoets.com all- stars will be making a guest appearance, so that's cool. The site should get a lot of hits after the event.
Man, I have to get my mind right so I can go ahead and do this slamming thing. Must rep properly or not at all. Personally, anything except the poem I just memorized, I'm pretty tired of spittin'. I'd rather read at events than perform, but, we all know it's the performance first for most viewers. I get tired f doing a poem by the third time...I've been that guy in the audience that hears the poet talk about a new piece he just wrote and only did once or twice...but I know the damn thing just as well as he does because he actually has done it twenty two times! I don't want to do that to people. I figure, as much as I write, I can always come to a cipher with a new piece and do my thing. Some folks appreciate it less when you read tho', so I know I get tuned out by a lot of folks whenever I read. It's just, when you perform, you have the opportunity to stare down an entire audience or just one person. To command an entire stage. That's what people want. The writers are the one's who listen to that new piece that has never been read before, while the poet stumbles through the first four or five lines. The true appreciators listen for that punch- line that's promised in the next couple of seconds. Truly, there has to be a way of doing both...

In my list of women in the industry, I actually forgot a few names I'd like to call upon now:
(ahem)
Rae Dawn Chong (the black 80's "it" girl), Salma Hayek, Rosie Perez, Paula Abdul, Paula Jai Parker, Mya, Vanessa Williams (the actress/ dancer), Lisa Raye, Naomi Campbell (even tho' she don't dig brothas), Adina Howard (could get it with her freak ass...wait didn't she change over into a good girl image), En Vogue, Lisa Bonet (post- Angel Heart), Beyonce and Kelis could get it (no disrespect Hov and Nas), Gabrielle Union, Vivica Fox, Garcelle Beauvais, Lela Rochon, Theresa Randall, Tia Carrera, Lucy Liu, Roselyn Sanchez, Patricia Velazquez (Latina shorty from the movie, The Mummy Returns, played Imhotep's reborn girlfriend), Ziyi Zhang (Ole girl from Crouching Tiger... and Money Talks II), Michelle Yeoh, Michelle Rodriguez, and Jennifer Lopez before all the hype (I liked her back when Money Train dropped).

Sade, Halle Berry, Angela Bassett, Lauryn Hill, Stacey Dash, Cree Summer, Jill Jones, Golden Brooks, Maia Campbell, Giorgianna Robertson, Free (from 106 and Park), Lady Mae (newest addition to my list after her pictures in sexy underwear found in the Source magazine), Tatiyana Ali, Lark Voorhies, Karyn Parsons, Nia Long, Sanaa Lathan, Aisha Tyler, Tracie Moore (of the Jazzyfatnastees), Flo Brown, Jennifer Tilly (so what she's white, she could get it), Alfre Woodard, and Janet Jackson are many of the women in the industry I've been diggin' for a while now. The first four are always top of the list, but Angela and Halle are on the reserve list because of marital status, and Lauryn is code red because she is still hugged up with Ro droppin all types of babies. Which leaves Sade comfortably sitting at number 1 for over ten years running with her sexy ass. But wait, there is a new threat developing on the radar! Her name is...Serena Williams! Ladies and gentleman, you can hate or throw tomatos if you wish, but this chick is just banging. Eloquent speaker, fierce competitor, unbelievable frame, beautiful dark skin, big bright smile, and a cutie! Bassey better be glad I didn't have a chance to do a tribute to Serena's ass at the Image Awards, boy...:) Serena darling, after years of rising through the pack, you are a front runner...congratulations. Feel free to email me, call, or send smoke signals.

Well, saw my brother play in his intramural championship game out in West Bubblefuck, Virginia on Saturday. Both teams were undefeated, but unfortunately my brothers team did not prevail. Overall, the game was sheer comedy. From poor coaching to poor refereeing, to lazy game play by my brother (who is fifteen and is already taller than me). Oh gosh, there was this one dude on my brother’s squad, #10…this cat was out of control off the dribble. Why the coach kept letting him run point is a mystery. The irony is, my brother’s team beat themselves. There were only two dudes who really scored anything, #2 and #5. My brother’s team would do things like foul the only two scorer’s in overtime and put them on the line. It was a travesty. Not to mention the league he was in was so bootleg, the teams didn’t even have names. Nope, you’d call them by the color of their jersey. Oh, and each kid had to play two quarters, which is very fair, but alleviates things like, I don’t know…work ethic. If your guaranteed run, why try to get better? The rest of the comedy was how loud I was and how quiet the other people were. I don’t know how folks do basketball in West Bubblefuck, Virginia, but round here we talk much shit. Then when my father, sister, and brother and law got there…a laugh a minute. Everybody got clowned even harder; the ref’s, the coaches, the player’s, shit…even my brother!
After the game, I went to my brother’s mom’s house and kicked it there for a few hours. During which, I got to play Lord of the Rings on X Box (quite entertaining), and got a good home cooked meal. Carol (my first step- mom) did her thing with the oriental chicken and rice. Things that good normally come with a price, but, whatever.
The next day, I lounge while I should be preparing for the slam @ Teaism. I head out to Teaism after trying to, uhhh, lighten my load, still feeling hemmed up. Dude, I get to the spot, and have to, ughhh…test the plumbing. Prior to that, tho’…Before I even make it downstairs I can hear Kom’s voice on the mic and he’s doing “Put It to Music”, which I’ve still only heard once. I run into Sharron, who I haven’t seen in ages. I also see Granma Dave in the house. Even saw Alexander, a dope ass poet who’s been MIA for like a year now. So anyways, I sit and hear a few cats spit, like Twain Dooley, and have to go…again. The bathroom is occupied which forces me outside to look for other means of relief. This brother that was watching the door of the building next door was nice enough to look out for me in my time of need. Like I said, the chicken was yummy, but I didn’t know it was going to come with a price. Eventually, I wind up slamming on an empty stomach…but I do okay. The wild shit is that it was almost cancelled because we were in there way too late. We had to do the second round outside. This cutie named Miko came in first, followed by Drew Anderson and Granma Dave respectively. The judges were wack, man. They gave some cats like 15's and 20's...wow. Haterrific!! I called it a night after taking Lynn to McDonald’s and running into Q as we were leaving the parking lot of Micky D’s. Cool weekend, just went by kinda fast.

Ya'll want funny...I got funny. Why on Friday, when I was driving to Lynn's after work, why did I see this guy across the street on his bycycle...like he was a car? Peep, the funny part, tho', is...when the light turned green...he starts to go across the intersection, he stops and blocks off traffic...to answer his cell phone!!! Ole boy was blocking traffic while he was taking a phone call. Then, he proceeds to stare down the car directly behind him while he talked on the phone...while dude in the car angrily beeped at him. That shit...was hi- lar- i- ous!!

Why...is there another frickin' plant in the sink @ my job. This is a new plant, ya'll. What...are we growing a garden up in here?! Why would you put a frickin' plant in the community kitchen? I know it's the same person from before. We couldn't possibly have two folks that inconsiderate in the same proximity, right? Go to the dollar store and get a spray bottle, dude...we have a frickin' Rite Aid Right downstairs! This is me screaming inside...

Oh...by the way...

Happy Birthday Drew! Drew- Down! Droopy! Drew-salum! Droopizzle my Nizzle!
Hope Aqua Man finds a nice damp cave to navigate until it flatulates liquid pearls.
Oooh, he so nastee!

Happy bir- day to ya (refrain 2x) and skip to the breakdown...
Haaaaaa----ppy Biiiiirth---day, Ha--ppy birth-day
Recognize I'm a fool, and ya love me~ Ol' Dirt Dog (often randomly qouted by Drew)

Wow…last night at the Java Head Café…wow. Celebration for Deon, Nat, and Drew…wow. Over 150 folks crammed into space meant to comfortably seat about maybe 35. All for love. All to roast or toast Drew. Wow. Seeing True Life and Faheem roll through the venue (both them dudes been under rocks)…wow. Seeing Taj and Rush…wow. Having Sir host the roast and roast the host off the bat…WOW. Rockin’ my piece that Sir inspired for the first time, and having Sir rock his piece that inspired mine, only to have Native Son do his piece that intitially inspired Sir’s in the first place WOOOOOOW! Buildin’ with Deon a bit and really getting past the “What’s up” mode…wow. Having Nat, the owner of Java Head up in the spot on his birthday chillin’…wow. Deon, young producer pulling the feature where he fatures the work of the people he works with…gangsta wow. Seeing Sir’s mom after like a year…wow. Having her come up on stage and just talk to us on our level…wow. True life askin’ to cop the book as soon as he sees me…w-o-w. Hearing 13 of Nazereth spit…wow. Hearing Kom’s homegirl/ vicious ass emcee, Symantics crush it…WHOA! All those heads in one spot with no beef and all love. Unbelievable. Hittin’ Drew with a tribute piece when he just knew I was going to roast his ass (don’t worry, cuzin’…it’s still comin’)…wow. Me even doing a tribute for another guy…wow…The entire night…you guessed it…so say it with me. Ready?
1
2
3…
On beat,ya’ll…damn.
1- 2- 3…Wooooow. Yeah, ya’ll rock man. Ya’ll are just…just…wow. Anyways, back to my complete overkill of the word ‘wow’. This cat named Richard coppin my book after flipping through the table of contents…wow…Building and talking with folk I don’t know with no regards to time…wow…Talking with Andrew about wanting to kill certain rap artists…WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW. Talking with Andrew about cinematic tragedies…wow. Leaving the spot after 1:30 in the morning knowing I have work the next day…wow. Talking with Kom for 40 minutes until his phone dies about making moves, the state of poetry, and how many of the people we roll with fit in, knowing that I have work in the morning wow. Running on fumes…wow. Pushed the wrong damn button to get to the lobby in my building…wow. Bout to fall out in my cubicle…now. Wow.

Entry fee to get in to Java Head Cafe for Drew's Birthday Roast celebration this Thursday...$5.00
Price of a bottle water to stave off dry mouth prior to performing in said roast...$1.10
Having video footage of Drew "Droopy" Anderson and (Brandi Forte) performing in 1998 as cannon fodder for the material you're going to use to bake Drew's ass...PRICELESS!
Drew, I can't wait for this roast, dog! I don't even know what I'm going to do yet. Oooooh, it's going to be funny, tho'.
PS- Go 'head! ~Drew Anderson in his acclaimed piece of the same name, which can be found on my ghettofabulous tape from 1998 that features the talent of Brandi, Drew, myself, Queen Zenobia, Wadiya Penn, and more. Bootleg coming soon!

Okay, I just found some type of gel- like goop in my turkey sub, dude. Totally, uncool. It looks like some of that clear shit people use to style their hair, but it';s not the same consistency. If I get sick tonight, man...I'm puttin' all their business out in the street, dog. I'm going to try to save some of the goop just in case...
Wow, that just sounds really wierd...

On a completely different note, has anyone (besides Drew) seen Jay- Z's new video, Excuse Me? DAMN! Shorty in that elevator could get it without question! As blaze as her frame was, tho', that outfit took it into overkill, dog. Who would actually walk around like that in public and expect a man to not want to have sex with her? That outfit pushes women's rights down about ten years, and my libido...uhhh, I won't even scar my faithful readers by finishing this statement. Just know, that chick...could get it...well...repeatedly. She reminded me of ole' girl in that Outkast video (So Fresh, So Clean) with the jean jacket and no shirt. Where do they find these chicks? Is it some type of secret order like on Seinfeld? How do you get the key to the hidden city. I know it exists...look at the videos, dog. Not the old Hot Boys videos, they're scary looking hood rats for the most part. But look at the videos, man, especially anything by Hype Williams...that Q- Tip video Vivrant Thing/ Breathe and Stop video (which may as well be the same song/ video because they looked and sounded practically the same) was ridiculous. Or how 'bout the chick that played DMX's wifey in Belly?! Whoa! Know what? Must be spring starting to kick in or something...I'm done, I can't even talk/type anymore.
Peace!

Ummm, noticed that I qouted Bernie Mac wrong earlier today. It's actually:
"Lawd have mercy, the Lord is my shepherd, he know what I want! Mrs. Parker…Mrs. Parker…!” ~Bernie Mac in Friday

Why do I have this chick I don’t even know askin’ me to get her breakfast for her when I see her. Granted, she’s only done it twice, but damn, twice is two times too many if I don’t even know your name. See, where I work, there are two buildings which are connected, the north building and the south building. I work in the north building. To avoid freezin my nads off in the morning, I cut through the south building and take the elevator to the lobby. This way, all I have to do is walk a couple of steps to get to the grill next door. Said chick, is a receptionist, who barely speaks to me mind you. Today she asked for a bacon and cheese croissant and any type of juice…just no orange juice or anything with acid. Now, had she offered to pay for my measly croissant seeing as tho’ I was doing the footwork, I’d have been cool. Not saying I would have necessarily accepted, but she could have at least offered. Shorty offered no such thing. This is why chivalry is almost dead, because women often assume too much with little to no reciprocity. Why hold the door for someone who doesn’t have the decency to say thank you?
Me being the nice guy I am, I did the deed with only a little bit of attitude, trying to hint that shit could get ugly if you keep askin’ me. Shorty ain’t never seen me hungry and tired, and she’s bound to catch me on a bad day if she continues to follow the inclination to ask me to get her pork and cheese croissants. I don’t even eat pork, it’s like askin’ a vegetarian to order beef stew. Dude, ewww. I’m not feelin’ that, cuz, at all. I think it has more to do with the fact that I don’t know her. She doesn’t even say, “Hi, Lee…” She says, “Hey, you goin’ downstairs to get something to eat?” Then, she proceeds to start writing on a post- it. Dog, anything you got to write a list for, ain’t getting done. Sorry, find some other flunky for that shit. Wait a minute…how mentally challenged do you think I am if you’re going to write down an bacon and cheese croissant and a juice?! The fuck?!?! Aww, that’s it! Shorty gets no love for that. The audacity…!
Anyways…
Can I just say, God is good. Nothing will bring a smile to my face faster than a fine sister with a phat ass, boy! Call me a misogynist all you want, but hey…! This sister got on the elevator with just…ass…for days, man. Whooo! Had me grinnin’ from ear to ear when I got off. I don’t care what the bible says, woman was not an after thought, man. Ain’t nothin’ like sistas in the world, man.
“Good Lawd, the Lord is my shepherd, he know what I want! Mrs. Parker…Mrs. Parker…!” ~Bernie Mac in Friday

Today’s Would- Be Fiasco
About 10:30 this morning, I realized my wallet wasn’t in my pocket. Okay, this is bad, I mean driver’s license, credit cards, atm card, id cards are standard for wallets. Mine wasn’t much different. I always have my wallet, I don’t care if run outside with my shorts on and a wifebeater just to move my truck, I have my wallet with me if I feel like I’m going somewhere. Alright, stay calm, observe your surroundings…it probably just fell out of your pocket when you were sitting down, Lee. Nope, it’s not here. Retrace your steps. That’s what rational people do. Not here. Check in your truck, it probably fell out before you even got out of the truck. Nope, that didn’t turn up anything either.
Note to self: Vacuum your truck this weekend.
Alright, somebody probably picked it up, I’ll just put out a company wide alert that my wallet is missing, maybe a good Samaritan came across it. No responses. Well, life goes on, still have to work. Can’t…concentrate…without…wallet I figure I’ll check at my friends house, maybe I left it there; besides, I still have to get my books today. I leave @ 1:12. Scoop the books, head towards the crib, lamely parallel park (I’m quite nice with parallel parking in narrow spaces), rush inside with my books, find my wallet under a magazine, grab my food out the fridge and my Roots CD as I bounce. Back to work a half an hour later. Still have a half an hour left for my lunch break, which I’ll take later. Utterly relieved and slightly embarrassed, I shoot another company- wide email stating it was a false alarm. Some folks were nice enough to say they were relieved or happy for me. That was nice, so I emailed those folks back saying thank you. Hopefully I’ll have something else to put before the end of the day…
I’ll Holla!

Ya’ll won’t believe this, but, my reprint of my newest book is finally done. They just finished like twenty minutes ago! Hmmm, only took over a month to print. What the hell were they doing, printing a book and a quarter per day? Those cats are crazy, man. Oh, if there are a bunch of typos today, I feel like hot shit warmed over…that’s not a good thing ya’ll. I’ve been sittin’ in my cubicle for like the last three hours overheated, man. How you ask? Well, first of all, I get hot easily…my guess is this was a loop hole in my defensive mechanism my body created long ago. My pops used to let his house freeze, he’s military so cold don’t bother him, and it’s cheaper. Moms could be cold on an 85 degree day with a slight breeze. I don’t get cold easily, but hate extreme or dry heat. Because it’s unseasonably warm today (55 degrees), my building is still pumping heat. Which means it’s warmer inside than normal. I’m frickin bakin’ here waiting to clock out, feeling like I’m about to clock out. I’ve been tryin’ to use paper towels as wet cold compresses, but that shit don’t work.
Oh, Common’s latest LP, Electric Circus is pretty hot. A little overrated from what I’ve heard from folks, but it’s still Common. The hottest aspect is the fact he’s blatantly going against the current status qou of hip hop LP’s on some straight music shit. I respect that. He still says “nigga and “bitch” with the best of ‘em tho’.
BeEasy/I’ll Holla!
"Hip Hop is chaaaangin'/ Ya'll want me to stay the same?" ~Common
"I'm a grown man/ I'm too old to fist fight" ~Common

Happy Happy Happy
Joy Joy Joy~ Stimpy from The Ren & Stimpy Show (one of the funniest cartoons ever!)

Man, I’ve been writing ever since February 21st and it feels great! For those who don’t know, I’d been in somewhat of a deep dry spell since the release of my book, Babylon Songs (go figure, huh?) and was starting to get frustrated/ worried. I had truly been uninspired to write…period. I did go through a year period where I wrote next to nothing when I was in college, but that period felt natural. I didn’t even miss it because I was doing my first love on a regular basis (drawing). This dry spell, hit my fast and unexpectedly as usual. But this one stayed way past the welcome point. Sometimes you need to chill and not write, just let life happen, y’know. Then, when the time is right, you pick up a pen and pour your soul out. This wasn’t happening for me. Now, my mind is bubbling with ideas and concepts like when I was in school, now it’s like, “Either write it, or chance losin’ it”. I’ve written six joints since February 21st, and I feel a lot more scratchin the surface. Who knows, maybe I’ll be on some next ish the next couple of days and let folks get a sample in my journal. Anyways…must get back to work. Getting better in this program called Illustrator as I force myself to use it for more and more projects and assignments @ work.
PS- I need a frickin’ haircut. My hair goes from bald to nice lentgh to out of control in a matter of days. I would normally be rockin’ the fresh cut on a weekly basis, but I’ve been silently boycotting the cat I normally go to. It’s funny because he doesn’t even know I’m boycotting, but obviously he hasn’t noticed either.
Why am I boycotting you ask?: Well, back when a brother was unemployed, I still made it a point to get a haircut as regularly as possible. I don’t know, a haircut might lose out to a tank of gas for my ride, y’know? Besides, it takes absolutely no talent or skill to cut your hair off completely, which I do whenever a barber is scarce. Chicks dig it, why not, right? Anyways, this cat had nobody waiting for him and one cat who was half done in his chair when he fronted on me. Granted, he normally has his schedule full for a day, but he always looked out for me before. I always tipped a couple of dollars when I had it. He said he had a full schedule, but the shop was damn near empty, which is highly irregular. The insult to the injury wasn’t being denied a haircut; it was being denied a haircut the day of or before (I can’t remember which).an important call back for a prior job interview. That was like a major blow, dog. C’mon, I know ya’ll feel me. Anyways, I haven’t stepped foot inside the barber shop since. A shame too, because dude is the best barber I’ve come across in the Northwest DC area that’s right around Howard.

Why would you leave a giant plant inside a sink that everybody uses unattended? Why would you put a giant plant in the sink in the first place? Would it be too costly to get something from the dollar store to water your plant with in your office as opposed to the kitchen sink everybody uses? I mean, it’s not even like the faucet is running. Nope. The big ass plant is just sitting in the sink. It’s not like virtually the entire floor uses that kitchen, right? Ah, the people @ my job. So many wonderful cultures, there is bound to be some colorful shit like this on a day- to- day basis.
Anyways, copped a few DVD’s (Dogma, Road to Perdition, and Knock Around Guys) for my collection this weekend. Finally got the Common CD also, which I haven’t quite listened to all the way yet. I already own Dogma on VH- S, but wanted the Special Edition DVD just for the sake of having it. That, and the fact I copped it for my sister’s birthday last May and she has yet to watch it when I could have copped the normal version for half the price. Seeing as though the Special Edition is now half the price, I figured, “What the hell?” I already saw Road to Perdition, and dug it, so it was fitting that I cop it post haste. Knock Around Guys was one of the movies I intended to see, but didn’t get around to. I like it, funny and gangsta at the same time. Wasn’t spectacular, but it was definitely entertaining. Cool points for giving the consumer the option of wide screen or full screen format. Most DVD’s force the widescreen format on you, and a lot of folks I talk to seem to hate it. I don’t really care, but I would look at full screen before widescreen if I had the choice. Which leads me to my suggested DVD of the month: Snatch.
Funny ass British gangsta film written and directed by Guy Ritchie (who is Madonna’s husband currently). Hilarious movie, good plot development, outstanding camera work, and convincing characters who are all memorable and easy to relate to in their own right. Also, Snatch gives you the widescreen and full screen formats on one disc without you having to flip sides (I hate double sided DVD’s…their such a cop out). Not to mention it comes with a bonus disc full of extras that are actually worth watching if you are a movie buff like myself.