Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Me Likey

"Well, damn Rashan...What do you like?"

I got called out today. I deserved it. I was being extremely critical. One of those negative people that I can't stand. It took just these simple words to snap me back to reality and give me a well needed attitude adjustment. I tend to always talk about what I don't like or what I don't do. Every now and then I need talk about what I do like. Come with me, blog readers as I explore the little things that make me happy.

I like... driving aimlessly at 4 in the morning when nobody is on the road. Its my go to form of relaxation. I can just be alone with my thoughts or vibe with some good music as I explore the open road.

I like... new hip hop music that makes me remember why I love hip hop so much. In the last month or two, I've reignited that spark with new releases from Kanye, Common, Little Brother, Median and Talib Kweli. I've also discovered some new stuff that I had been sleeping on. The hip hop show Sunday nights on Georgia State University's radio station helps too. I've remembered that clever rhymes and pulsating beats are what I love so much about hip hop.

I like... flirtatious conversations even if they don't lead anywhere. It's good to know that I got my swagger back. A smile and some cunning linguistics do something to my spirits.

I like... "Pushing Daisies." This new show is just great. Its strange, quirky, and totally not what you would expect for me to like, but every Wednesday when I get off work, I can't wait to go home and watch it.

I like... writing. Doesn't matter what it is. Even when I can't make any progress on my alleged novels, it always makes me feel better when a new idea hits me.

I like... 5 hours of sleep. I've recently discovered the secret for keeping myself refreshed. Anything more than 5 hours and I'm groggy. Anything less than 5 hours and I'm cranky. 5 hours is like Goldilocks and the baby bear: just right!

I like... winning in Madden 08. I played it for the first time this weekend, since I refused to buy it this year out of fear that it would take over my life as has occurred with previous versions of the game. Last year, I kept getting beat. This year, I represented with a 3-1 record so far.

I like... surprise phone calls from people I thought were done with me.

I like... eye candy at work. Like the dark skinned girl with the natural who sits behind me, or the caramel skinned girl with the long hair who's desk is directly in my eye sight. Or the light skinned girl with the braids that I see as soon as I go to my desk. They say variety is the spice of life, and my job is on some cayenne pepper ish.

I like... that I actually have options for my birthday this year. Last year, I was unemployed and depressed. This year, I'm in the zone. I just might make it a 3 day celebration. My birthday is November 25th, you know just in case you wanna get me something for my 33rd. PhD wants to take me out for my birthday. My co workers (old and current) want to take me out for my birthday. And I can't forget the annual tradition I have of going out with Maybe-Weds and the crew. I don't know how I'm gonna do it, I'll probably have to combine a couple of outings. Like maybe, the old coworkers and the new coworkers can take me out to a strip club together and buy me dances all night. LOL

I like... hanging around my niece and nephews. I know everybody probably feels this way, but I am uncle to the coolest kids in the world. They are all so smart and funny and I'm glad that I am getting a chance to be a part of their lives and to watch them grow.

I like... reading new blogs and becoming intrigued with the way that people think, write and project themselves. That's some good shit. I'm resisting the urge to make someone my blog crush though. Nothing good can come of that. LOL

I like... I like the way you comb your hair. And I like those stylish clothes you wear. It's just the little things you do. That show how much you really care. Wait, that's the DeBarge song.

I like... being finished with this post now.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Bootleg: The Conclusion

Part un

Part deux


Aiight, where was I? I had just found out that this girl was on some "I Am Sam" shit. I was a little embarrassed, but nobody really knew so I didn't have to worry about it. To top it off, I think whatever I was smoking wasn't just regular marijuana. I laid on my bed and reflected on the night that went by. I was listening to (and don't laugh) George Michael's "Listen Without Prejudice" album which is what I always played when I needed to think. Can't really give any other explanation except its a good CD and it works well as background music. Anyway, the shrill sound of my pager interrupted my meditation. I didn't recognize the number, but that wasn't too unusual because back then cats used payphones all the time. I called the number back:

Me: Ay yo! Somebody page Rashan?

Voice: Yeah, you that nigga in the maroon Tercel?

Me: Who is this?

Voice: I found your number in my girls pocket. I saw you drop off Jess'ca before.

Me: I don't know no Jessica.

Voice: Aw, nigga. You know her.

Me: Man, its late. What do you want?

Voice: What do I want? I want you to leave my girl alone. She told me what y'all did tonight.

Me: Oh, you talking bout Francesca. Man, I don't know what she told you, but I barely know her.

Voice: Just stay away from her. She's mine.

Me: Aiight, man. Ain't nobody tryna take your girl, although you may wanna try to keep her out of the club all the time.

Voice: Nigga, don't worry bout that. I'll handle my shit. You just make sure...

Me: Nigga, if you was handling your shit, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm out, son!

Let's see if I got this straight: Unattractive, mentally challenged, blunt-lacer, and using me to make her man jealous? If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, I don't know what is. I decided that some stuff in my life was going to have to change. For one, no more going to the club every damn day. I needed to avoid seeing Bootleg. Also, I decided no more smoking weed with people I didn't know. Unless you were in my circle, I wasn't going to partake. Finally, no more being drunk in public. I didn't plan on stopping altogether, but it would be in the confines of my home or someone else's I trusted. I finally managed to turn my brain off and doze off. I awoke the next morning refreshed and confident that I had put this episode behind me.

And I did for awhile. For a good two months, I stayed out of the club. I would just hang out at people's houses or spend time with the ladies. I didn't even get drunk like I used to. I managed to do like they say on the commercials...drink responsibly. I hadn't heard from or seen Bootleg. One night, I was invited to hang out at the club for some one's birthday, and against my better judgement, I decided to go. I figured enough time had passed and that I could make it through just one night. Well, you already know what happened: Bootleg was up in the place. She saw me before I saw her, so I couldn't escape. What happened next is messed up. I don't even know how I came up with these lies, but they flowed as if from a spring of pure evil.

Bootleg: Where da fuck you been, nigga!

Me: Shit, I was locked up. (BIG LIE #1)

Bootleg: For what?

Me: I got a DUI that night. Cops said I had weed and cocaine in my system. I have never done coke in my life. (BIG LIE #2)

Bootleg: Aw, I dusted the blunt. You wanna smoke one now?

Aha - I knew it. I know I couldn't be that high just off some weed.

Me: Nah, I quit. I just got out of jail, I'm not trying to go back (BIG LIE #3)

Bootleg: "Let's get outta here."

Me: Nah, I don't have my car. I'm riding with them tonight. Besides, I don't want your baby daddy getting mad. (BIG LIE #4)

The conversation took a serious turn here:

Bootleg: Fuck that nigga. He think he own me just cuz I'm pregnant.

Me: DAMN!! You pregnant again? How you gonna be drinking and smoking and you pregnant?

Bootleg: Oh, you sound like my social worker.

Me: Your social worker? Why you got a social worker?

Bootleg: Fuck that. You gonna get up on this ass or what?

Me: Nah, I'm good. I can't fuck with you. You got too much going on with ya.

I dipped to the bar and broke my no getting drunk in public rule. I used to be a stress drinker and dammit I was stressed. I couldn't fathom that she was pregnant and still doing the same things. Even back then, when I didn't really care about anything but my own personal gratification, that shit bothered me. 3 drinks later, Bootleg found me again. I was 2 steppin (cuz I must reiterate, I can't dance) with this girl that I knew from college. Bootleg came up behind me and grabbed my shoulder.

Bootleg: I know you wanna fuck... let's go over in the corner.

Me: Get the hell on. I'm busy.

Bootleg: I don't have on no drawers.

Me: For real, now! Go somewhere.

College girl left and I was posted up on the speaker, blowed. I couldn't believe that I found myself in the same position again. Bootleg grabbed at my crotch. This time I wasn't high and stopped her. But she was persistent. I don't know if it was the crazy or the drugs, but she was just not trying to hear that I wasn't interested. She kept trying to kiss on me and shit and I kept pushing her off. I finally had to just leave the club. I didn't even say goodbye to the people I was hanging with. I just stormed outside and Bootleg of course followed.

Bootleg: Shawn! Shawn! Where you going?

I didn't look back. I wasn't in the mood to be understanding or sensitive or politically correct. I wanted to just get the hell out of there as quickly as I could. I jumped in the car and started it up. Bootleg started banging on the window.

Bootleg: Shawn! Shawn!

I tried to pull the hell off, but I missed first gear and the car stalled. That gave Bootleg enough time to pick up a bottle and throw it at my whip. It smashed on the driver's side window. Luckily, I didn't have the window rolled down, cuz it would have hit me right in the grill and messed up my pretty face. LOL. I got the car in gear and rolled out. I could see her in the rear view mirror cursing and gesticulating.

Change was necessary. I talked about it before, but this time I had to be about it. I couldn't get caught up in those strange situations anymore. I basically became a hermit for awhile. When people would try to get me to go out, a big neon sign flashed in my head that said "BOOTLEG! BOOTLEG!" And this time I heeded the warnings. The whole Bootleg scenario made me lose interest in the club scene.

That's not to say that I didn't do anything. I became the king of the house gathering. My crib was the number one spot for drinking, smoking and general debauchery for the next year. And that's also not to say that I wouldn't find a new stalker in the next year, cuz ummm. yeah, I did. But at least I never saw Bootleg anymore. I wonder how many damn kids she has now.

Okay, I'm glad to be finished with this damn story. It was so much stuff in here that I forgot until I started writing it. I can already tell I'm gonna be one of those old cats that tell 3 hour stories while his grandkids try to sneak away. LOL. I tell you the truth is stranger than fiction. Oh yeah, remember this happened a long ass time ago. Any mistakes that may have been made can be chalked up to youthful indiscretion. Right? Right? Happy Monday, Peeps!

Bootleg pt 2

Check out Part 1 if you haven't read it.

There I was dancing, surrounded by 8 females, having the time of my life. Bootleg had followed us from one club to the next. It was less than a 5 minute walk, but damn. I had to do something about this, because obviously ignoring her wasn't working. I abhor unnecessary confrontation, especially in public, so I went to the bar and got a shot of liquid courage in the form of Bacardi 151. I wanted to be good and drunk before I had this conversation. As my throat burned from the abrasive liquor, I motioned for Bootleg to follow me outside. She obliged.

Me: Yo, why is you frontin' on my homegirl like that?

Bootleg: She was looking at me all crazy. I don't play that shit.

Me: You acting like you my girl or something. I can hang out with whoever I want.

Bootleg: Nigga, I know. But that girl aint got half the ass I got. Why you want her?

Me: Oh My God! You really got issues. First, that's just my friend and secondly, if I wanted to get with her, I would. You really don't have shit to say about that.

My homeboy, Jimmy walked by us with his brother Rashad and some other cat whose name I can't remember. He gave me dap and walked towards "Frozen Paradise." He looked back with a look of concern on his face. I didn't know what it was about until later. Bootleg and I kept talking and she finally apologized and said she wouldn't do that anymore. My 151 buzz was wearing off, and Bootleg had a little herb with her, so we went back to "The Zoo" to get down on that. Almost as soon as I took my first hit, I started to feel funny. I used to get high, but not too high, but I was damn near knocked on my ass from that blunt. I had to sit down because the club was spinning. The pulsating lights were fuckin' with me and all I kept thinking was "Am I having a seizure? I think I'm having a seizure."

At some point I made it to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and try to sober up. But that shit wasn't working. I had a sensation that I was walking on air. When I got out the bathroom, Bootleg was waiting for me.

Bootleg: You high, nigga?

Me: Huh?

Bootleg: You still high?

Me: Huh?

I couldn't come up with any lucid responses. I leaned against the wall arms folded in a b-boy stance.

Bootleg: I'm gon' suck yo dick.

Me: Huh?

Bootleg: Aw, you high ass nigga. I'm gon' suck yo dick.

Me: Umm...Okay.

Then she went for it. In the back of the club. With people around. While Lil Jon was talking bout "Who U Wit." And other than a few cursory attempts, I didn't really make much of an effort to stop her. Mind you it was dark, and my intoxicated memory tells me that nobody saw what she was doing, but my sober mind knows that is a delusion.

Fast forward to 2 AM. My high had worn off and I remembered that Senita and them was over at the "Frozen Paradise." I checked my beeper (yes, I said beeper) and saw that they had been paging me for a little while. I decided to walk back over there to see what was up. Before I got in the door, I saw Jimmy again. He decided to put me up on game about Bootleg.

Jimmy: Hey, that girl you were talking to? Is her name Francesca?

Me: Yeah. You know her?

Jimmy: Do I!?!? Man, we went to elementary school together.

Me: Word?

Jimmy: You not fuckin her, are ya?

Me: Nah, why what's up?

Jimmy: You know she retarded right? She stay in that group home over on Anderson.

And then everything started to make sense. Her seeming lack of intelligence, the lack of social skills, and the dropping her off on the corner. She wasn't dumb, she was mentally challenged. Jimmy continued:

Jimmy: Yeah, I was gonna tell you to be careful. She's like 24 and got kids by 5 different guys. She'll do just about anybody and then turn up pregnant.

Me: Word? I thought she just had two kids.

Jimmy: Nah, its like 5 and she don't have custody of any of them.

Me: Damn, nah, I ain't messing with her like that. We just see each other at "The Zoo" all the time.

Jimmy: Aiight, man. You know why they call her Bootleg?

Me: Nah, why?

Jimmy: When we were in elementary school, she had to wear this leg brace cuz her leg was all fucked up. But she didn't want nobody to see it so she wore these bright ass yellow rain boots everyday. I'm talking bout she would wear them shits in the summer, too. Man, niggas been calling her Bootleg ever since. The fucked up thing is that she don't even know people are making fun of her.

Me: That's messed up dawg. I'll get up with you later. I got some homegirls in the club I need to meet up with.

At that point any remnant of intoxication was all the way gone. I just recieved fellatio from a retard. I figured that would definitely tip the scales toward me going to hell. I knew I damn sure couldn't tell anybody about it. As I took Senita home, I was mad quiet and she called me out on it. I blamed it on being tired, but really my mind was just going in a hundred different directions. How do I get out of this situation without being a bad guy?

Apparently, I am being very loqacious. This story did not need to be this long, but alas it is. Okay, the conclusion will be done by Sunday. Questions answered include, "What exactly was in that blunt that made me so high?" and "Where does Rashan really live and why is he telling her something different?" and "Will this experience stop Rashan from club hopping?" Find out on the conclusion to the Bootleg story on Sunday.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Bootleg

Okay this shit is gonna sound unrealistic, implausible, fallacious, yet I promise you its true. It's a story from almost 10 years ago, so don't judge me too harshly. This is the story of Bootleg, especially for The Goddess...

1998 - Savannah, Georgia

As a newly single man of 23, I made it my life's mission to have as much fun as humanly possible. I went to work at 9 in the morning and often times, I was still drunk from the night before. I would get a couple of hours of sleep, work a 10 hour day, then hit the spot again. Now, in Savannah, there weren't too many places to go, so we developed a routine. Wednesday and Friday Nights we would go to "The Zoo." Thursday and Saturday Nights, we were at "Frozen Paradise." In retrospect it didn't really make too much sense to be in the club that much since I can't and don't dance, but it was more for the hanging out with my people and occasionally meeting a new girl. That's how I met Bootleg.

One night me and my boys were at "The Zoo" drinking Alize as per usual and probably smoking some Chronic. We called it the Chronic, but it was really just some dirt weed. This was around the time that No Limit was kings of the fucking club. Every two weeks a new No Limit album would come out and have people up in the club losing their minds. I mean, cats would be throwing elbows, and making mean mugs with their boys, while hopping up and down to the bass heavy sounds of Master P, Silk the Shocker, Mystikal, Mia X, and so on and so on. Being a bit of a music snob, I didn't really like the music, but it mixed very well with the intoxicants I constantly had in my system and even I joined the pseudo mosh pits. This night, while me and the boys were "getting buck" as we used to call it, Bootleg came and joined in.

It was rare that a female would join the cypher, because dudes were known to get reckless with the flying appendages. So you would see a gang of niggas in the middle of the floor, while the ladies just stood by edges, sipping on something waiting for the New Orleans set to end. Bootleg didn't give a damn. She walked right up to the crowd and started pushing people, and throwing bows and shit. She was straight thug with hers. Later that night as we were leaving the club, we saw her walking down the street by herself. Well, more like staggering. I pulled up to her and asked if she needed a ride. I had my homeboys Kareem and Tori with me and I know it must have looked like we were scheming on her, but really, Savannah can be a dangerous place, especially for drunk Black female wearing some short ass shorts.

She recognized us from the club and asked us drop her off at some apartments on Abercorn. I don't know how she thought she was gonna walk all the way there in her state, but she got in and I dropped her off. Along the way, we got to know each other a little. Her real name was Francesca, but everybody called her Bootleg. She was a couple years older than me and had a couple of kids. She said she is always at "The Zoo" and told me next time I went to come find her. She told me to drop her off on the corner, and I did, and then headed back to my side of town.

The next couple of times we went to the club, Bootleg was always there. Always drunk and always wearing some shorts that showed off her ass. A couple of times I noticed she was looking at me like she wanted to do something, but Bootleg was so not my type. Her body was banging, but her face was just... she was what they call a Butterhead. She wasn't ugly, per se, but she looked rough, like she had experienced a long hard life beating her down. Plus she had gold fronts and that was just not appealing to me at all. Bootleg also seemed less than intelligent and whenever we talked I had to dumb myself down. No conversations about anything other than music and drinks. One Wednesday night, she wanted to leave the club early, but didn't have a ride, so being the gentleman I was, I told her I would take her. I left Kareem and Tori at the club, and went to take her home. The plan was to drop her off and be back in like 30 minutes. Only, what I didn't realize at the time, is that Bootleg was looking for a ride all right, just not in the car.

My Tercel was parked off of Henry St, in a dark alley behind a bank. We got in the car and I started it up, and got ready to pull off when she told me to hold up. She wanted to just chill for a minute before going home. So we sat in the car talking about God knows what for awhile. She grabbed my hand and placed it on her thigh. She then reached under her shirt and took off her bra through her shirt sleeve. I was a little tipsy, but not so tipsy that I didn't know what was going on. She wanted me to smash her in public. I won't bore you with the explicit details, I'm sure you can read between the lines, but we did just about everything you can do in small ass Tercel, without doing that. The SPD kept rolling by and finally they decided that it was time for us to go. I took her to her crib, but when I started to get out and go with her, she stopped me.

Bootleg: Nah, nigga. My baby daddy in there.

It was cool. I didn't go into the night with intentions of having sex with her anyway, but since the opportunity arose, I went with it. Besides, the club was damn near about to close, and I had left my people there. I'm sure they were looking for me. I jetted back just in time to catch them leaving the club. I told them what happened and they had mad jokes for me. It made for an interesting ride back to the Southside.

A couple days later, I was back in "The Zoo", this time with my home girl Senita and some coworkers. Senita was a platonic friend, but we had an extra flirty friendship. We would walk holding hands or with our arms around each other, but we never did it. So, we are walking up to the club all touchy feely like we always did, when Bootleg comes out and gets in Senita's face. I'm like WTF is this?

Bootleg: Is this skinny bitch your girl? Cuz she wasn't your girl the other night!

Me: Whoa, chill out with that. Da hell is wrong with you?

Bootleg: Nigga, I'm just saying, you gonna bring your skinny bitch up into my club. I'm finna beat her ass if she don't stop looking at me like that.

Senita: Uh-Uh, Rashan. Why is this ghetto girl all up in my grill? She don't know me like that. I'm from Brick City!

Senita was from Jersey, and she didn't take no shit from anybody, so it was about to be on. Back then I had even less tolerance for bullshit than I have now, so I didn't even wait for an explanation. I just kept it moving to the club with Senita and I may have repeated some misogynistic rap lyric to Bootleg, I can't remember. LOL. All night, I felt Bootleg's eyes on me. It got so uncomfortable, that we left "The Zoo" and walked over to Frozen Paradise where it was Reggae Night. That night I actually danced. I had no choice. Senita and the rest of my female co workers dragged me on the floor where I pretended like I had some riddim. We had a fucking ball that night dancing to some music that I couldn't understand. That is until I looked up at the bar and saw Bootleg, staring at us with a menacing glare...

Okay, didn't realize this was gonna be so long. Should I post part 2 today, or should I wait? I'll let you guys decide. I'm gonna finish writing it now including the origins of the name "Bootleg." Happy Friday!

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Music Is My Girlfriend

I can associate a song with just about every girl I dated. Whenever I hear certain songs it just makes me reminisce on the old days. The women come and go, but the music and the memories last forever.

I can take it back to the early days. Whenever I hear "Rock wit you" or "Tenderoni" by Bobby Brown, I think of my first real girlfriend Dedra. I think about how much of a lame I was back then who had no business trying to have a girlfriend that I was scared of. I think we "went together" for about a month and never even talked on the phone.

When I hear BoyzIIMen's "Uhh Ahh (the sequel)" and Shai's "Comforter" I think of the times me and Shay spent at her crib while her mama was out buying weed. You can get away with a lot of stuff when the girl's mama is high as hell all the time.

Mary J Blige and K-Ci "If Loving You Is All That I Have To Do" always reminds me of the time when D2's mother walked in on us right before it was about to go down. She came to tell us to turn down the music and that song was playing. I never did get that close to sealing the deal with her again.

I spent 3 years with Lisa in college, so I have plenty of musical memories of her. The ones that come to mind the most though are Faith and 112's albums. Many nights we stayed in that little room in her sister's house listening and being inspired by those albums. I also can't listen to Al Green without thinking of Lisa. When we finally ended our relationship, the upstairs neighbor was blasting Al Green's Greatest Hits. If our breakup was a movie, then that was the soundtrack. To this day when I hear "For The Good Times" I smile because the song just mirrored what we were going through.

Don't look so sad I know its over
But life goes on and this world keeps on turning
Let's just be glad we have this time to spend together
There is no need to watch the bridges that were burning

Lay your head on my pillow

Hold your warm and tender body close to mine
Hear the whisper of the raindrops
Blow softly against my window pain late at night

It ain't all R&B though. When I hear anything by Master P or Mystikal, I instantly think of that wild night at "The Zoo" when "Bootleg" (That was her actual nickname. I didn't give her that name) tried to rape me in the corner of the club. I need to write that story out one day, shit was straight comedy. I was drunk or high, or both and some stuff happened that I try to block out of my memory. But if I hear "Make 'Em Say Uhhhh!!!", the repressed memory just comes back.

"Jazzy Belle" reminds me of Aries Chick # 2. She was from Atlanta and was always playing the Outkast whenever I snuck in her dorm room. That and "My Boo" by Ghosttown DJ's. She was a real party girl and that was required party music back when we were kicking it.

Or when I hear "Gotcha Open (Remix) by Black Moon, I instantly think of the one that got away. Her name was Kailee and we were vibing the whole night at the Soul Kitchen, one of the few spots where they played hip hop in Savannah. I was enthralled with her because she knew the lyrics to all the East Coast hip hop songs that only I liked. Oh yeah, and she was dead fine. She wrote her number on 5 dollar bill, and I think I accidentally used it to buy a drink. You should have seen me trying to remember that number. I still remember it was 912 236 but I couldn't remember the last 4. I was sick about that for a minute. I tried everything I could to find a way to bump into her again, even hanging out with some hip hop heads from the Savannah College of Art and Design (where she went) that I couldn't stand hoping that someone knew her. I never did find her.

"We Can't Be Friends" by Deborah Cox always reminds me of my stalker chick. The times before I knew she was a stalker. That song was always on the radio when I was taking that long ass ride home from her apartment in the morning before work. I wish I would have known at the time that she was planning our wedding without my knowledge and planned to use "Happily Ever After" by Case. I can't listen to that song to this day.

The girl I lived with songs were "Fortunate" by Maxwell and "Beauty" by Dru Hill. "Fortunate" was the first time that I had ever did the corny "that's our song" thing. We were together 2 years, so we got a lot of musical memories too. Like smoking out to 8Ball and MJG's "Space Age Pimpin'" or her turning me onto Jill Scott and me turning her on to Nas and Mobb Deep and her subsequently taking all my Nas Cd's when we broke up. (What up, C! If this is one of those rare occasions that you are reading this, you know I had to put you on blast for that ish!)

I can't hear "With You" by Tony Terry without thinking of Tweety. We were so incompatible musically that this was probably the only song that both of us liked. She liked Ruben Studdard and cats like that, while I was more into the hip hop and neo soul type music. I remember we took this road trip once, and she was listening to gospel music when she drove and I was listening (or trying to) Ghostface. We couldn't agree on much of anything including music.

I got so many more musical associations, but I didn't really intend for this to be this long. It's about 7:30, and I haven't been to sleep yet, so I'm gonna just stop this. But before I go, let me ask: Is it just me that associates music with people from the past? Do you do the same things? Tell me some of your musical memories. One!

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

I Couldn't Be In A Cult

I couldn't be in a cult. It's just not for me. I'm sure even people in cults didn't ever think they would be in one, but I know for a fact it wouldn't work out for me. By now, you're probably wondering exactly what the hell I am talking about. It's not normal for people to just make declarations of their un-cult worthiness, but I actually have a reason for thinking about this. As you may know I am a bit of a history buff. I actually minored in history in college and often times when I can't sleep I will watch the History Channel or something like that. Well, last night, I was watching a show about the Jonestown Massacre. If you don't remember that, it was when this preacher convinced his followers to give up all their belongings and move to Guyana. And when shit went bad, he convinced them to commit a mass suicide by drinking cyanide laced Kool Aid. Over 900 people died. That's the condensed version.

Later in the day, I was talking to someone I wouldn't normally talk to, and they were talking about how Amway was a cult. It could have been a coincidence that cults came up twice in one day. But you know what they say, right? There is no such thing as coincidence, just blog topics! It made me think, how do people get caught up in a cult? I know it couldn't be me. There are just certain characteristics that I lack. I know I couldn't be in a cult and here's why.

Materialism: I'm not a very materialistic person, but damnit, I'm not giving you shit I worked for. You always read about how people give up all their worldly possessions to the cult leader. Ain't no way in hell that's happening with me. If you need to hold like $200, I got you, but you are not gonna take my ride or my computer or anything I paid for myself. That just wont work for me.

The Names: I'm not calling a grown man Daddy or High Priest, or anything other than his name. I'm a man just like you. I can see that getting me in trouble in the cult. I'll be put in cult prison for not showing the proper respect to the reincarnation of Jesus/Buddha/Dalai Lama.

Sex: I'm sorry but nobody is having sex with my wife but me. I'm not sharing her with the cult leader. And even if I wasn't married, why does the leader get all the women? I'm hating. Share some of them with ya boy, ya greedy bastard! I have needs too. After a long hard day of toiling in the hemp garden, it would be nice to come home to a woman. But, no, you get to have a harem while the rest of us just have blueballs. That's not gonna work for me. And why do cult leaders always have to have sex with underage girls? I can't hang around a bunch of sick perverted muhfuckas, its bad enough that I listen to his music.

Mind Control: Ask anybody who has ever tried to get me to change my mind, its damn near impossible. The cult's mind control tactics wouldn't work on my stubborn ass. Some stuff I just know that I know, and no amount of manipulation will convince me. I honestly can't see myself being brain washed. I'm way too cynical about everything. Case in point, you remember that email that was going around about the guy who had that elaborate proposal? I think that was made up. And no matter how many people tried to convince me it was real, I still say it was staged as a publicity stunt for the photographer. Nothing short of actually meeting that couple and getting an invitation to the wedding will convince me otherwise. So, see, there is no controlling my cynical mind.

Taking Orders: I know we all take orders in our day to day life, but there's a difference. If I don't do my job, then they can fire me, and I'll find another job. In a cult, if they tell me what to do, and I don't do it, they might kill me. I would be dead quickly, because I can't stand people telling me what to do. More than anything, that is the best way to repulse me. Maybe I have some sort of latent psychic connection with my slave ancestors, but whenever some calls themselves giving me an order, I go a little Nat Turner. That's probably why I didn't pledge a fraternity in college. I wouldn't make it through rush week with people telling me what to do.

Social Aspect: I just don't like a lot of people. I couldn't live with a bunch of people who all think the same. I would be bored out of my mind. Besides, can you really just say you want some alone time, when you are sleeping in a barn with 10 roommates and bunk beds? I have a feeling my bouts of not talking to people for weeks at a time wouldn't exactly endear me to my fellow cultists.

The Apocalypse: Cults are always talking about the end of the world. Shit, I'm trying to live for as long as I can. I can't mess with all that morbidity. I can't live my life thinking that the world is going to end at any moment. I know its in the Bible, but the limited amount of the Bible I know also says that no man knows when the end is coming. Stop trying to make Doomsday happen sooner than its supposed to.

Charisma: I know the definition of the word, but I can honestly say, I don't find people charismatic. I don't put people up on a pedestal (except Gabrielle Union, but that's a different kind of charisma.) I can't see myself following someone because of charisma. Sorry, I'm just not a follower. I think that is a prerequisite for being in a cult.

See, it just wouldn't work out for me. Maybe instead of joining a cult, I can start one. I've been told that I have a knack for making people see my point of view. People have been known to adopt my characteristics if they hang around me long enough. And I know I can make people fall in love with the idea of me. Maybe that'll be my new venture. I just have to think of a name. You wanna join my cult?

Monday, October 22, 2007

Thoughts Of An Internet Predator: A Cautionary Tale

The following comes from my overactive imagination and also real life. I think this dude I work with is an fucking pervert. Like he should be on Dateline NBC. I will of course leave out real names in case I am wrong, since I have no proof. I know the following piece maybe disturbing particularly to those of you with daughters or nieces. It's disturbing as hell to me too as Uncle to a beautiful 10 year old girl, which is why I was inspired to write about it. The following is a trip into the mind of a suspected internet predator. This is what I imagine he was thinking:

What was that I heard? You just found out that your step daughter has a MySpace page? She's how old? 12? And she's in a 2 piece bathing suit? I've got to calm down. Don't look too eager. Play it cool. Maybe I should ask what her name is. No, that would be too obvious. Maybe I'll just look over your shoulder and copy the URL. WWW.myspace.com/c^&^*. Damnit! These kids these days and their symbols. I can't see what it says. But I saw the pictures. She sure doesn't look 12. This girl looks 15 if she is a day. I hope you forget to lock your computer when you go to break. If so I'll be able to check your browsing history and find the address.

Damn, why are you making it so hard for me? I wish you would just tell me the address so I can scope it out myself. I'm sure there are plenty of vulnerable 12 year olds on the internet, but I want yours. You brought it to my attention. I can't stop now. I've got to see this at home when I can fully satisfy myself. No, don't do that!!! Don't make her delete the page. At least not before I get a chance to meet her. I already know how I'm gonna do it. These young girls are all the same. I'll use that picture of my nephew from when he was a lifeguard. Then I'll send her a friends request. It's best to take these things slow, so a few weeks later I'll strike up an IM conversation with her. I better brush up on my slang. I'm always online so I'll figure out just the right words to say to her.

Maybe I'll tell her that I am a photographer and I want to take some pictures. No, that's too cliche. Instead I'll tell her I work for a record company and I'm looking for models. That ought to do it. Everyone wants to be a star. Maybe I'll be able to lure her into a meeting. Somewhere private and secluded. Once she sees me, she'll forget all about the deception I used to get her there. She wont be able to resist me. Young boys are fine, but she'll want to be with a real man. The way she is dressed I'm sure she knows all about sex, and if not, I'll be glad to teach her. I;ll mold her into what I want her to be. She's too young to know any better. She's just starting to understand her body, and my years of experience will help her comprehend what feels right. I'm not salivating, am I?

Wait a minute. Why is Rashan looking at me like that? Does he know the secret that I am trying to hide? Is he... I think he is gonna try to cock block this. Why is he pulling you to the side? I wonder what he is saying. Does he know of my plan to sexually violate your step daughter? Is that why he is looking at me with such disdain? Surely, he wouldn't tell you that I am a perv. In fact, if he does, I'll sue him for slander. He had no way of knowing what I'm thinking. Then again maybe it's written all over my face. Maybe my lecherous smile has betrayed me. Maybe he caught me shoulder surfing. Regardless, I'm gonna find your step daughter online if its the last thing I do. He's on to me. I better just play it off.

"Hey, what is your daughter's email address? I want to send her this email I got from my church about online safety."

There ya go! I'm sure since I mentioned church, all Rashan's fears will be allayed. Also, I can use that email address to search for her profile. I bet he doesn't suspect anything anymore. I can be seen as a hero now, looking after the welfare of young nubile girls. Now that I think about it, that's probably an even better way to strike up a conversation with her. Pretend that I have her best interests at heart and then wham! I pull the okey doke on her. Besides who will they believe, a 12 year old girl with an overactive imagination or me, a 50 year well respected man?

Did I hear right? Did Rashan just ask me why I want a 12 year olds email address? Shit, I better think of an answer quick. That bastard is always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. This isn't his kid, why does he care so much. Just let me do my thing. Yes, I do have a MySpace page and I'm always online. Shit, I shouldn't have told him that. Now he's gonna know what I do in my spare time. Nevertheless, he doesn't have the balls to come out and say what he's thinking. Oh, shit. I was wrong again. He really just asked me if I use my page to pick up young girls. I hope my "no" was convincing enough. I don't really know how to lie that well. He might have figured me out.

Back to you, don't make her delete the page. I beg of you. At least give me until the night is over to find her. Don't listen to Rashan. Nothing bad is gonna happen to her. What does he know anyway? He doesn't even have kids like you and me. Damn it, I see you are determined to make her get rid of the page. I'll have to find another way of reaching her and find a way to get that nosy ass Rashan out of the picture.

Friday, October 19, 2007

She's Strange...And I Like It

I guess I'm back to using song titles as the title to my posts... Cameo said it back in 84, and its still true today.

I met this strange girl the other day. It was a just a coincidence that we talked. I was at lunch and for some reason nobody answered my phone calls. I also forgot my ear buds so I had no music on the iPod like I usually do. Bored, I sat back on the bench, puffing my Black n Mild, when she came and sat down. I gave her the head nod acknowledging her presence. I'm a man, so of course the first thing I noticed was that she was cute, not in a hot girl in the club way, but in a subtle unassuming way. She was about my color and had long hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had silver rings on each of her fingers. One was a skull, the other was an ankh. Yeah, I know I observe too much.

She pulled out her cigarette and made a phone call while I'm sitting back trying to remember the lyrics to an old Big Daddy Kane song. That's what I do when I'm bored. I remember thinking, "when was the last time I saw a Black girl smoking Marlboros?" She finishes her call and asks me my name. I'm like "I'm Rashan and you?" She says her name is "Sanaya" and shook my hand. We make small talk about what department we each work in and how long we been working for the company. Nothing special. Everybody at my company is pretty sociable. Then her phone rang. The ring tone was Nirvana's "Come As You Are" That was strange. A Black girl with a hard rock ring tone.

When she finished her call I mentioned how I liked Nirvana and her eyes lit up. "You know Nirvana?" I'm like yeah, slightly offended that she thought I wouldn't, but then realistic that I don't give that kind of vibe. I think she sensed this and proactively said, "most people can't identify with that." We made more small talk about our tastes in music and TV and movies, then she hit me with this.

"Okay, I know I don't really know you, but I have a question for you?"
"What's up?"
"You have to answer honestly, though."
"Umm..ok. I can't promise that, but I'll do my best"
"Ok, here goes... I've been talking to you for like 5 minutes, what do you think of me?"
"Wow, I wasn't expecting that one. In what way?"
"Just generally, what is your first impression?"
" I don't know enough about you yet to have a first impression. What is the real question? It seems like this is the preface to another question. Why don't you just ask that one?"
" Do I seem like a White girl?"
" Wait, I have a first impression... you are very forward."

She laughs and says:

"Answer the question!"
" I don't know about a White girl, but you definitely have different tastes than most Black women I know."
"So, is that your politically correct way of calling me a sellout?"
"(laughs) Nah, that's not what I meant. You really just say the first thing that comes to your mind, don't you?"
" I really want to know how people perceive me."
" Well, you are a little strange. I don't mean that in a bad way, cuz I'm strange too. I guess a better word would be eccentric."
"So I'm strange and you like it?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Where is all this coming from?"
"Well, it seems that I never get approached by Black guys. Only White guys talk to me."
"Word?"
"Yeah, I thought it was because I had no booty, but I think its more than that."

I tried to see her booty, but she was sitting down. She was skinny though, so I imagined that there may be some no booty issues. I kept the overly familiar conversation going.

"Do you date Black guys?
"I try, but you guys don't like me."
"I'm sure its not that."
"Would you date me?, I'm not asking for a date, I just mean in general."

There was a noticible hesistation before I answered. Not because I was unsure of the answer, but because I didn't know how I should answer. I decided to just tell the truth.

"Yeah, I would."
"Why?"
"Are you seriously asking me to delineate the reasons I would date you?"
"Yeah, you may just be saying that to make me feel better."
"You really don't know me. I don't do the placating thing."
"I guess I'll believe you, but I haven't had a brother try to get my phone number in months."
"Well, if you want me to be extra honest, you kinda look like the type that doesn't date us. I know its a superficial judgment, but if I had to guess, that's probably why they don't approach.

She stood up and playfully hit me on my shoulder.

"GETTHEHELLOUTTAHERE! Are you serious? I come off like that?"
" I could be wrong, but that's the vibe I get."
"Now we are getting somewhere. I knew you would have the answers."
"Like I said, it was just a vibe. I was just trying to come up with a theory."
"What is it about me that says 'I like white cock'"
"You mean besides the fact that you just said 'cock' and have Nirvana as your ringtone?"
"Shut up!!! No, I mean tell me"
"I don't know. You look more punk rock than hip hop. You have your own quirky style. For example, your rings. Not too many of us are rocking a skull, or wearing black nail polish.
"Okay, I gotta go back to work, but we ARE gonna talk about this some more. Where's your desk?"
"2 nd floor to the left"
"I'm gonna find you. You are a real interesting guy, Rashan. I need to pick your brain some more."

As she left, (and yes, I did scope out the booty. It wasn't big, but it was well proportioned) I sat there thinking. "what just happened?" That was one of the strangest conversations I've had in a while. Sanaya is kinda strange... and I think I like it.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Get To Know Me

I was working on a post that I just don't have the wherewithal to finish. In the meantime, get to know me a little better. Here is a tag I stole off of somebody's page a while ago. It's long as hell, so feel free to skim it, or just come on back tomorrow. Do it if you want, although I know most people don't have the patience to read 100 questions, much less answer them. Hopefully, I'll finish the post I intended to write tomorrow..

001. When's the last time you ran? This weekend I chased my nephew around.
002. Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them? Nope, this ain't 1988
003. What are you dreading right now? Going back to work in 3 days
004. Do you celebrate 4/20? Are we talking about weed? If so, not since April 24, 1999
005. Do you like Mexican food? Si
006. Favorite ice cream? Breyers Vanilla
007. When was your last doctor's visit? 3 months, I think
008. Do you get the full 8 hours of sleep a night? How bout in a week?
009. How many pets do you have? I hate animals, so none
010. "First Loves Are Never Over;" is this true for you? Nope, I'd say its pretty fuckin over
011. Think of all your exes. Would you take any of them back? Been down that route. I'm gonna have to pass
012. If anyone came to your house on your "lazy days" what would you be wearing? T Shirt and boxers. I would probably throw on some jeans if they insisted on coming in.
013. What's your favorite shirt? I like my white Sean Jean shirt.
014. Have you ever been on your school's track team? Lets see... short fat kid and track? Not a good match
015. Do you own a pair of Converse? Never have, Never will
016. Where are you at right now? Living room
017. Do you eat raw cookie dough? On occasion
018. Have you ever kicked a vending machine? I don't kick them, but I'll put my shoulder into one if its stiffs me
019. Don't you hate when the radio ruins good songs by playing them over and over? Thankfully I have an iPod now, but hell yes.
020. Do you watch the news? Usually just the first 5 minutes to see who got killed and what caught on fire.
021. Do you watch Trading Spaces? Nah, I preferred While You Were Out. I mean, no, I'm a man! LOL
022. How do you eat oreos? I don't anymore. Chocolate gives me migraines, but when I did I would twist em open and eat the cream first
023. Have you ever stayed online for a very long time waiting for someone? Yes, but now I don't even log in to messenger anymore.
024. Are you cocky? Well, I would have to say, sometimes, but other times I'm insecure. It's a 60-40 cocky advantage
025. Did you have an imaginary friend as a kid? Not that I can recall, but I did have a vivid imagination with my GI Joes
026. What t.v. station do you watch the most? Right now, I think ABC although most of that is on the computer
027. Have you ever seen the ocean?Yes. Used to live on the Atlantic in Savannah
028. Have you ever been hospitalized? Not since I was like 3
029. What's your favorite brand of root beer?!!! Barqs
030. Could you live without a computer? Of course, unless said computer was responsible for my life support.
031. Do you wear your shoes in the house? *Looking down* I am right now. I forgot to take them off.
032. How many TVs are in your house? 3
033. At what age did you find out that Santa wasn't real? 8 or 9, but I pretended not to know for a few years.
034. How many phones, house phones and cell phones are in your house? I only have a cell phone
035. What do you do when you're sad? I don't know that emotion. I'm an Icebox, baby
036. Who would you call first if you won the lottery? My sister, although she wouldn't answer the phone.
037. Last time you saw your best friend? This assumes I have a best friend and I'm not a complete anti social loner. I guess it would be Saturday
038. Do you still color in coloring books? Nah, that ain't cool for a grown man to do
039. Can you read music? I used to be able to but I haven't done it in years. I wonder if I still know how
040. Who or what sleeps with you? Me, Myself and I
041. Are you/have you ever been in love? A couple to a few times
042. Pancakes or french toast? pancakes
043. How do you like your eggs?Scrambled with cheese or omelette
044. Are you in high school? Not for 15 years
045. Is anyone on your bad side right now? He-He-He. Yep, I can hold a grudge
046. What jewelry are you wearing? I don't get my Slick Rick on. No jewelry for me
047. What's the first thing you do when you get online? Check my yahoo email
048. What kind of apples do you like? Red (whatever those are called) and Granny Smith
049. Do you watch Grey's Anatomy? Yes
050. How do most people spell your name? They don't. Most people call me Shawn mostly b/c I would rather you call me something else than misspell or mispronounce my name.
051. Would you wear a boy/girlfriends clothes? I'll pass on the RuPaul ish.
052. Have you ever been in a car accident? 3 I think.
053. What shampoo do you use? Suave for Men with Dandruff Control
054. Where do you work? At my job.
055. Do you feel guilty when you eat Gummi Bears/Goldfish crackers? I don't.
056. What are you doing tomorrow? Sleeping, maybe going out for lunch. Definitely not working.
057. Is Justin Timberlake becoming the next Michael Jackson? I doubt it, nobody will do it like Mike in this digital downloading age. The days of Thriller have past us
058. Favorite name for a girl? Aaliyah or Jamilah
059. Favorite name for a boy? Khalil, although I would probably make that my sons middle name and give him a boring Anglo Saxon first name.
060. Will you keep your last name when you get married? I'm not getting married, but if by some miracle some woman decides that she can't live without me, I will of course keep my name. That's what men do.
061. Your favorite restaurant you don't get to eat much at? Pappadeaux.
062. When is the last time you left your house? Right before I started this
063. What do you drive? I drive an old lady/dope boy car. Buick LeSabre
064. Do you actually eat Easter Peeps? I don't know what this one means???
065. Can you cook? On occasion
066. How do you eat your steak? Medium to Medium Well.
067. Do you return your cart?Yes. I think its extremely lazy to just leave it in the parking lot. I mean, you did all that walking in the store, is it really gonna kill you to walk another 10 feet?
068 where you at? I already told you I'm in the living room
069. Do you have a dishwasher? yep
070. What noise do you hear? "In the Mood" by Talib Kweli. That is my shit!
071 who is deleting all the questions? Que?
072. Next concert you hope to go to? I would love to see Jill Scott or Erykah Badu. Or Prince again
073. What was the last thing you ate? leftover chicken breast from the other day
074. When was the last time you said I love you and meant it? I told my niece today.
075. Who is the youngest in your family? The youngest would be baby Justin who is 6 days old.
076. If all of your friends were going on a road trip, who would be most likely to over pack? Again, assuming I have friends, I have no idea. I can only road trip with a select few. People get on my nerves quickly
077. Do you know anyone with the same name as you? I don't
078. How many shoes do you own? 14 (7 pairs)
079. Do you mind flat soda? Depends on whether or not I'm really thirsty. If I am, I can drink it hot, flat or whatever.
080. When is the last time you ate peanut butter? A couple of days ago. I decided to give it up since I'm allergic to it.
081. What service is your cell phone? Sprint
082. What's for dinner? Tomorrow I am making Turkey Burgers and I got some blue cheese crumbles and mushrooms. I'm gonna try to recreate that burger I had this weekend
083. What's the last thing you purchased? 16.2 gallons of regular unleaded gas
084. Do your siblings ever pay for stuff for you? My sister: yes. My brother: not so much
085. Where is your cell phone? In my pocket
086. Is your phone on vibrate or ring? Vibrate
087. What brand are your pants right now? Alfani?.
088. Ever been to Georgia? Live there, shawty.
089. Did you do breakfast this morning? I only eat once a day. That's dinner. Sometimes I have breakfast for dinner though.
090. Do you like marshmallows? I don't. They are too sweet. I used to love them
091. What irritates you most on the Internet? Know it alls who know nothing
092. What brand is your digital camera? HP
093. Do you watch movies with your parents? Nope. Most of the time when I'm around my moms, I try to avoid anything controversial, or with curse words or references to drinking.
094. Do you write poetry? I am poetry illiterate. I cannot write poetry at all
095. Is your refrigerator dirty? Surprisingly, it is not.
096. What song best describes your life right now? I can not be encapsulated by someone elses words (which means I just can't think of anything right now. LOL)
097. Do you own expensive perfume/cologne? How about the oils from the gas station for $3.99. Works just as well with the ladies. LOL
098. Are you taking college classes right now? Nope, but give me a couple months and I may be getting my masters
099. Do you have facebook? Nope
100. Do you know how to change a tire? If there's one thing in life I have become a pro at, its changing tires. I've had mad practice.
101. Do you like sushi? Sushi and cantaloupe are the 2 foods that make me gag.
102. Do you get your hair cut every month? Twice a month
103. Do you go online everyday? Yes

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

I Do My Dirt All By My Lonely

I do my dirt all by my lonely "Hey!" Find the phony
Past the mass, one deep, yeah the only
Do or die, with slugs for the Ruger
Rollin patrollin in a stolen black Cougar
I do my dirt all by my lonely

"Dirt All By My Lonely" Naughty By Nature 1999

Naughty by Nature told you how to do it years ago: I do my dirt all by my lonely. However grammatically incorrect that statement is, it is nevertheless good advice. Nowadays, you can't trust other people with your secrets. People will snitch on you in a minute. I'm far from a thug, but even I know you there's no honor amongst thieves and no G code anymore.

Somebody should have told Michael Vick about that. The people you think are your boys will rat you out in a minute to save their own asses. It don't matter if they getting all their money off of you. They'll runteldat to prevent their own jail time. I know he's sitting somewhere under house arrest cursing the day he decided to trust his homeboys. I bet he really expected them to take the charge for him, but we all know how that turned out. (I really hate Vick and his boys. Not so much about the dogs, but what they did to the Falcons. 1-5? Shit is just not right.)

OJ should have know better too. He knows good and damn well he's hated as much as Osama Bin Laden. What possessed him to run a caper with other people? When the shit hit the fan, his co -defendants are running to tell on him. They are gonna leave OJ holding the bag while they get a book deal about how they brought Amerikka's Most Wanted down. I mean, they have been looking for a way to bring Othello down for over a decade. It turns out his friends are gonna be the ammunition that they needed. (By the way, I always thought OJ was guilty, I just couldn't bring myself to admit it during the trial. It seemed like I would have been less Black if I admitted that.)

Britney should have thought twice before doing her dirt in front of other cats. She should have just got high and naked by herself. Doing stuff like that in front of people you are supposed to be able to trust, like her bodyguard made her lose custody of her children. You just can't let other people know about all your dirt because it will eventually come to light. (Am I the only one who thinks that child custody hearings should be private? This is gonna scar those kids when they grow up and hear about all the rancor and acrimony. And yes, I am using my SAT words)

And now, T.I. is in trouble again. How you gonna have your bodyguard buy machine guns and silencers for you? You got to know that if it comes down to him and you, he's gonna look out for himself. You gotta do your dirt all by your lonely. All trust goes out the window when you looking at fed time. All loyalty goes by the wayside when faced with the prospect of prison. I just don't know what these people are thinking sometimes. (I used to like T.I., but I think he really tries to dumb down his lyrics. I've heard some stuff where he really spits, but now its mostly just the same old gangsta, drug lyrics. It's disappointing to me, but I'm sure he cares more about his money than some dude who wouldn't buy his album anyway.)

Like I said, I know nothing of the streets, but I have done my share of dirt. One of the things I always kept in mind was to keep that shit to myself. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Everybody don't need to know what you are up to. Stop Snitchin' ain't nothing but a catchy slogan for a T-Shirt. It's easy to say that you won't do it, but when the chips fall, most people are gonna look out for number 1. I don't blame them at all for it; that's basic human nature. I do however blame these cats who get other people involved in their dirt and expect them to take the fall for them. It's just not realistic. If Sammy the Bull can rat out the Mafia, then what chance do you really think you have of maintaining loyalty? Son, do your dirt all by your lonely.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Babies, Burgers, Stalkers, Strippers, Dreams

Well, if you read the title, then you know what the post is all about. I wanted to post last Friday, so I could actually go a week straight writing in my blog, but some other stuff came up. Maybe this week, I can do it. Anyway, here is my weekend recap in true Rashan random fashion.

First of all, I'm an uncle again!!! My brother and his wife welcomed their child into the world early Friday morning. A healthy 8 lb 2 oz boy. He is too freakin cute. You know I love the kids right? He didn't open his eyes the whole time I was visiting in the hospital, but I got to hold him. Babies are amazing to me. They went home yesterday and mom and baby are doing fine. Got me thinking about my re-instituting my 90 day rule for knocking up the next woman I can put up with for 3 months. My male biological clock is ticking kinda loud right now.

I had the best burger I have ever had in my life on Saturday. Okay, maybe that's a hyperbole, but the mushroom and bleu cheese joint from Burger Joes in Decatur was ridiculous. I don't usually get excited over food, but I was just sitting there like DAMN!!! It was a good freakin' burger. Not sure why I wrote about this.

This is being my fourth time being an uncle, of course I had to go and celebrate the best way I know how: The strip club. LOL I'm kidding. I mean I did go to the strip club, but it was totally unrelated. I was bored Saturday, so I went to shoot some pool with the maybe-weds. I can't play to save my life, so I just watched and talked some shit about this and that. By 11, they were on their way home and I was not quite ready to call it a night, so I decided to hit up Pin Ups, home of the $5 dance. Here's a rhetorical question for you? Why do strippers insist on talking to me? Do I really have to hear your (often intoxicated) thoughts? Does it really matter if I'm married? Do you really have to tell me that I'm cute? I'm already paying you, save the flattery for the next man. Do I have really have to explain that the reason why I don't want you to dance for me (that horrid blond wig you are wearing)? Do I really look like an undercover cop? Okay, so that was more than one rhetorical question. I had a good time, but it really just reminded me that I'm not getting none in real life. LOL

I've become convinced that the more I'm mean to people, the more they are attracted. I don't know how to get rid of people. Even the whole honesty policy doesn't work. Whoever said that's the best policy never had to deal with a persistent suitor. When honesty didn't work, I decided to just be the biggest jerk in the world, something with which I have had practice. The one word answers, veiled insults and straight ignoring isn't working either. In fact it seems to make her want me more. In her words "you are a tough nut to crack, but I'm gonna do it." WTF? Short of pretending to be gay, I don't know how I'm gonna get rid of this one.

I've been having some really vivid and lucid dreams lately. I don't know what its about, but I actually look forward to sleeping. My R.E.M. stage has me going on some strange adventures. I can't remember them all, but in one of them I was dating Marion Jones after the steroids (except in my dream she was a disgraced swimmer instead of a disgraced track and field star.) In another one, me and Common were freedom fighters against a totalitarian government. We were being chased across the country and kept getting into adventures and free-styling along the way. In yet another, I was running from zombies who turned people into Republicans if they bit you. The zombie boss was Bill O Reilly. Shit is just weird, but I am actually looking forward to going to sleep to see what's next. I need to start writing in my dream blog again.

And that's about it. I hope everyone has a good start to your week. I'll get back with ya tomorrow. One!

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Greasy R&B

For the youngsters reading the blog, you might not get this post, but if you are anything like me, you dig music from before you were born. Everybody that knows me knows that I'm a hip hop head. But I also dig R&B music. I don't get down too tight with these young kids that are all dancing and no singing, but give me someone who can actually sing and I'm there. I was just playing around with my ipod making a playlist and I was looking at some of the old R&B files I have on my computer. I noticed I had a lot of stuff from the 80's, when cats rocked jheri curls and looked half feminine. I call it Greasy R&B.



I started out with some Debarge. Remember them cats? They were definitely greasy. They had big hair and if you didn't look closely at the pencil thin mustaches, you couldn't really tell the men from the women. I had to put "I Like It", "All This Love" and Love Me in a Special Way" on the Greasy R&B playlist. Anyone remember when El Debarge did that song "Who's Johnny?" from that movie Short Circuit? I can't believe I used to listen to a song about a fictional robot.




I had to throw on some Ready For The World. These cats were extra greasy. They had the curl and always looked like they were sweating. They had some hits though. I added "Tonight", "Digital Display" and of course "Love You Down" I had so much more, like "Oh Sheila" and "Mary Goes Round" but I didn't want to have too much of one group on the Greasy R&B playlist. True story: In 7th grade, I played RFTW's "Long Time Coming" album every day on my walkman on the way to school. I never got tired of it.





Full Force Get Busy One Time!!! Another super greasy 80's classic group. A bunch of big tough guys that looked like they just got of jail singing love songs and wearing jackets with no shirts. The look was crazy, but the music was undeniably good. "Temporary Love Thing", "Friends B4 Lovers" and "Ain't My Type of Hype" are some of their songs I added to the Greasy List. They also produced a lot of the old hip hop and R&B joints back in the day. Like "Roxanne, Roxanne" and most of Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam's joints.

Force MD's are best known for their greasy R&B classics "Tender Love" and "Love is a House." Another true story: I used to tape songs off the radio when I was a kid. I remember I was waiting all day to get "Tender Love" on 98.7 KissFM (My New York people: Is that still a radio station?) I finally got it, and they cut off the end of the song. For some reason, I remember that made me really mad.










Kashif and Colonel Abrams - I don't have any of their music, but I remember they were really greasy and wanted to include them. I can't remember any of their songs.


Lionel Richie was the ish back in the day. I know he comes across as corny now a days, but don't tell me you weren't tryna "Dance on the Ceiling" "All Night Long." Or you know that when you saw the "Hello" video, you didn't even care that he was a creepy stalker. Remember when he won all those American Music Awards and kept yelling out "Outstanding !!" Lionel was the man with his greasy curl. True Story Part 3: In 8th grade, I was supposed to sing a duet of "Say You, Say Me" with my first girlfriend Dedra in a chorus concert. I chickened out and pretended to be sick. LOL


Kool and the Gang were not only greasy, but borderline feminine looking in the 80's. They made some good music though. "Celebration" is ubiquitous, so I stayed away from that. Instead I have "Fresh' and "Get Down On It" on the playlist. Most of their songs I like were from the 70's pre-greasy, so I left those off.








Billy Ocean was another greasy cat that I liked. "Carribean Queen", "Suddenly" and who can forget the 1980's stalker's anthem "Get out of my Dreams, Get into my Car." Have you seen this cat lately? He has long grey dreads and a beard. Looks totally different.









Prince and Mike Jax could have been on the Greasy List, but they have their own playlists. Besides, its time for me to get some sleep instead of reminiscing about old Jermaine Jackson songs and trying to remember the name of that singer that was married to Jody Watley. (Note to self: Download some of that tomorrow.) What did I miss? What other greasy singing cats should I add to my playlist? Who were you rocking to in the 80's?



Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Hey, Pretty Lady

Yeah, I know I owe you some resolution on yesterday's post, but I had something else on my mind. This is an imaginary conversation I had earlier today. The words are what I wanted to, but didn't have the nerve to say. The situation is all too real. I hope you enjoy it.

Hey, Pretty Lady! How are you today? Yeah? I'm good too. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute because there is something on my mind. I don't quite know how to say this, but... Bear with me for a minute. I never thought I would have the nerve to say this to you, but I've been noticing you for a while. For real, I have. The first time was probably 2 weeks ago. I remember you were wearing that short jean skirt with the low cut shirt. You were looking good that day. Oh, you're welcome. But that's not what I wanted to say. I'm sure you have guys tell you that you look good all the time. That's not what I was getting at. What I wanted you to know was that you have an air about you. You're different than most women out here. I finally figured out what it was that made me notice you.

Now before I get ahead of myself, Pretty Lady, I'm not trying to embarrass you. I see you already starting to blush. It's not about that at all. I just have to tell you what's been on my mind. I don't mean any disrespect by coming at you like this. But I think you should know, you got my nose wide open. You do, word is bond!! I really do try not to acknowledge it, however I fail miserably. The truth is whenever you are around, there's no mistaking who is the hottest woman in the room. When you are near, you make me say "DAMN!!!"

I said all that to confess something to you. I told myself that I wasn't going to sugarcoat it, just step to you real. Sigh...here it goes. Pretty Lady, you kind of stink. You smell like you just got finished running a marathon, then decided not to shower. Wait, let me finish, because I'm not saying this to be mean, but I think you should know that we can smell you. That musty odor follows you wherever you walk. At first I assumed it was the guy sitting next to you, but its not. It's you. Do you play basketball before coming to work? Maybe go to the gym? If so, you really should take bathe when you get through, because the smell is overbearing. At the very minimum, could you not stand so close to me on those "extra funky" days? It really messes with my head to see someone as pretty as you with such a malodorous stench. Well, I've probably said too much now, and you probably hate me, but I couldn't let you go out like that. Remember, just because you are a hot chick, doesn't mean you have to smell like sweat.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

How To Lose Friends And Alienate People

Everybody go with me on this one. I'm writing this high on Benadryl right now, the result of me trying to actually get to sleep before 10 in the morning which hasn't happened in a few days. Also, I am newly allergic to peanut butter, but I can't break my addiction to it, so I gotta take medicine. I may just insert random utterances that have nothing at all to do with the post because that's how my brain is working right now on some stream of consciousness ish.

In my last random post I mentioned how this girl from work, although I didnt tell you she was at the job, wanted to hang out with me. Big fuckin' mistake. I shoulda stuck to my guns and just told her that I don't shit where I eat (anymore.) But instead, I acquiesed and gave her the math. This was Thursday night, when we were leaving work. Come Friday, I'm chillin at the crib playing with my nephew, whom I was watching when she called me. I answered and the first, well maybe the second thing out of her mouth was "how come you didn't call me yet?" Uh-oh, it's starting already. Anybody that knows me knows that I don't respond well to that type of tactic, but I figured she doesn't really know me, so I let it slide. We talked for about 15 minutes. It was a regular conversation, not too boring, but nothing that made me be like wow. I told her that I would call her back later, as my sister had come to get the baby. I was also going out, so I had to take a shower and get ready and stuff. This was about 7:00. By 8:00, I had 3 text messages from the girl. I didn't really know how to respond to that without being a complete and utter asshole so I just let it ride and went about my business.

Random thought: This Jill Scott CD seems kind of depressing. I'll have to listen to it a few more times, but it doesn't seem as life affirming as her other ones.

On my way to the spot (I was going to meet some friends for some drinks) I texted her back to let her know I was going to be out of pocket for a minute and I would call her on Saturday. She called me literally less than a minute after I sent the message. She asked how come I didn't invite her to come with me, followed by just kidding. But the thing is, I could tell she wasn't kidding. She meant that shit. I was starting to get that vibe. I know I just talked about wanting someone to want me, but I was wrong. Or I'm a hypocrite. Whatever! Excessive, thirsty behavior makes me shut down.

Random thought: The Falcons make me sick. How do you have the ball on the 1 yard line and not score? It's about that time to jump off the hometeam bandwagon.

And I was already thinking that it wasn't a good idea for us to talk anyway. I saw her at work again on Sunday, and in between her work inappropriate Instant Messages, and her hinting that we should go to the R. Kelly concert in November, I made up my mind. I have got to get rid of her before she becomes the latest in my list of stalkers.

Random Thought: 1: Kanye West, 2. Talib Kweli, 3. Common - We had an argument at work about whose album was better. That's my ranking.

Something had to be done. It was time for me to make her dislike me. It was time to alienate her before she got too close. And I knew just how to do it. It was time for T. Cas to come to the rescue.

Sorry, y'all. I thought I could do it, but I'm about to fall asleep mid sentence. I'll finish this up tomorrow. Please forgive me for leaving you hanging. Tomorrow's post will probably have a slightly less intoxicated feel to it. LOL Peace

Alternate Titles: Alien Nation, How To Lose A Girl In 10 Days,

Monday, October 8, 2007

You Are NOT The Father

My biggest fear in life, besides midgets and conjoined twins, is to one day have a child and then find out its not really mine. I'd like to think it couldn't happen to me, but I realize that most people cheat, so it's always a possibility. I couldn't imagine being in a position where I was unsure if my child was really mine. The reason I'm writing about this today is a conversation I was having at work yesterday. This woman is pregnant and has no idea who the father is. What's worse, is there are 3 possibilities. I'm all for free love and all but with that comes responsibility. You would think that if there are going to be multiple partners there should at least be some sort of safe sex going on. Call me old fashioned, but I think that cheating should only be done with one person at a time. How dare you cheat on the dude that you are cheating with? It's just not right.

I'm making jokes about it, but it really bothered me when she was talking about it. I don't really know her like that and she was just volunteering all her business to a bunch of strangers. It's like we were on a talk show. I was trying to stay out of the conversation, because I know my smart ass would have said something inappropriate, like "were you trying to win a Guinness World Record for Most Guys did in a 24 hour period?" But then she asked me straight up what I thought about it. I started to be diplomatic, then I thought better of it and kept it real with the woman. I told her that I thought she was being irresponsible and that as soon as the child is born she needs to have a blood test to determine paternity. (I know they have those tests you can get while the child is still in the womb, but I doubt she would pay for one of those.) I feel strongly that she shouldn't allow her boyfriend to get all attached to the child if there is a possibility its not his. Of course, she's not going to do that. Whether the child is his or not, his name will be on the birth certificate because he has no idea about her extra curricular activities.

What happens when they break up? Does she continue to have him claim a kid that may not be his? Do they go on Maury Povich and have paternity tests? I don't know what's the deal with her. Or maybe I'm just not being realistic. Maybe there are too many men out there that don't take care of their children and she feels like she needs to keep the one that will, even if its not his child. And to confess to infidelity would probably ruin their relationship, although its probably already ruined if she needs to sleep with two other dudes. I don't have the answers. What do you think? You ever known someone in that situation? What advice did you or would you give them? I know I'm looking at it from a man's perspective and I know I would be devastated if it happened to me. I'm interested to know what everyone else thinks.