Monday, June 30, 2008

My Weak-End!

For the second weekend in a row, I did nothing. Well, nothing outside the house. I'm about to have my social butterfly status revoked. Allow me to reintroduce myself... Hi, My name is Rashan and I'm a recluse. So what did I do all weekend? Actually, it was to my liking. I politicked on the phone with various and sundry people. I denied myself sleep to have early morning conversations. I baby sat my lil nephew Justin for a little bit. I chilled with my nephew Tarik and my niece Dominique before they went back to Savannah. And I got the best news ever!!!!

Speedy and Mane McGuineapig are no longer residents of my apartment. When my sister left a few weeks ago, the guinea pigs stayed with me. No room in my mom's crib for them. I had to feed those vile creatures every day, which would not be such a problem except for the fact that I am extremely allergic to them. Seriously, 5 minutes in the same room with them turns me into a snot factory. You shoulda seen me feeding them for the last 2 weeks. I would go into the spare bedroom where they were residing holding my breath for as long as I could. I would grab the water bottle and run out of the room and exhale. After filling the bottle with fresh water, I'd hold my breath again, and put down their food and hay and run out again. It didn't always work. Sometimes, I was on the phone and had to actually inhale their pet dander. Other times it took me too long to get everything situated. Plus when my sister was here this week, she would keep forgetting to close the door to the room, so I still felt the effects. I'm glad to say though, no more guinea pigs for me!!! I can breathe again, much to the dismay of a certain somebody that derived a perverse pleasure from my suffering. LOL Speedy and Mane are now at my brother's crib. I hate animals. My kids can only have fish. Such is my decree. It Was Written!!!

I have a super sucktastic schedule at work this week. I was supposed to work Saturday, but I had put in vacation for Kareem's wedding that may or may not have taken place. I also had vacation for Thursday. When I'm scheduled for Saturday, I get another day off during the week, which is usually Friday, but since the 4th falls on that day, I was given another day. These dirty so and so's gave me Tuesday off. Huh? Come on, why not just let me have Wednesday so I can have a 5 day weekend? Or even if it was Monday, it woulda been a 3 day-er. But as it stands. I work Monday, have Tuesday off, and go back on Wednesday, before taking the rest of the week off. I know I shouldn't really complain since I only gotta work 2 days, but what if I wanted to take a road trip? They be messing around.

Anyway, that's what's going on with me. Exciting, huh? My friend Senita might be coming up here for the 4th, so I'm sure I wont have a third weekend of hermitage. Whether she comes or not, I'm on the prowl for someone's cookout for the 4th. Really, though I need to get up out of Atlanta for a minute. I thought about going somewhere over the long holiday weekend, but last minute flight prices were crazy expensive. I shoulda planned this out earlier. Anyway, hope you have a good Monday, and I'll holla back.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

I Know A Woman

I know a woman that is so competitive that in almost all of our conversations, a contest of some sorts develops. I love it. It's just the right amount of ridiculous for me. Of course, being equally competitive, I refuse to ever back down from a challenge. I mean, I'm not trying to lose, especially to her, cuz she would hold it over my head for the rest of my life. Currently we are locked in a battle to see who can come up with the most examples of hood rich behavior. This has been going on for 3 days now and there are no signs of any one conceding. She is the Hillary to my Barack. That's right, cuz she just doesn't know when to quit. Also, its mad obvious that I'll eventually be the winner, but I like that she keeps trying. I admire her pluckiness and spunk, futile as it is. And yes, I'm writing this because I know she's gonna read it and get crunk. LOL

I know a woman that doesn't ever listen to me when I talk. She asks questions designed for me to answer, but then just moves on to the next topic before I complete my answer. An example, the other day, she asked me about the company I used to work for. Before I could say massive layoffs, she was already talking about going to Pure Atlanta this weekend. How you gonna ask me a question and not let me answer? Strange. I decided that I would just say the craziest, off the wall, most unrelated thing I could think of next time she asks me something, just to see if she notices. A hypothetical example: "Rashan, what are you doing on your vacation?" "Well, I was planning on creating political unrest in Tanzania. Or I might just go to Candy Land." "Oh, that's nice. Do you like my hair this way?"

I know a woman that calls me a whole bunch. No, she's not interested in me that way. She just is, I don't know, lonely? I sometimes forget to return her text messages until its like 6 in the morning, which is either too late or too early to be trying to communicate. I feel like I've been a bad friend to her, but at the same time, I don't want to talk to her every day. I already have those people that I talk to on a daily basis. I wish this woman could be like a once a week type friend.

I know a woman that I'm pretty sure is upset with me, but she'll never tell me. She hates confrontation so much that she will just ignore a situation until it goes away. She doesn't have to tell me she's mad though. As long as I've known her, its obvious. I'm gonna let her have her way and not say anything about it unless she brings it up, which she wont. I don't wanna make her uncomfortable. Plus, the whole don't ask, don't tell thing is pretty much my forte anyway.

I know a woman that is freakin hilarious...unintentionally. She's an older lady that is dating a man that lives in an adult community. When I met her 6 months ago, she told everyone that she was getting married. She was just waiting for her ring. She still doesn't have the ring, but is still convinced she is getting married. She asks me for advice which is funny because #1) What I know about marriage and #2) You are old enough to be my mom's older sister. I feel bad when I laugh at her, but I still do it. You would too if you saw her weave a couple of weeks ago. It was curly and two toned, but then she put some detangling lotion in it and that turned it stringy, fuzzy and still two toned. She had looked-ed like George Clinton. It also didn't help that this ghey (I think) dude kept walking by singing "Atomic Dog." Quote of the week: "Ever since I got these new dentures, I can't seem to get the food out of them. I can't go the retirement home with popcorn in my choppers" - I about died right there...

I know a woman that I'm excited to see and I don't get excited over much.

I know a woman that wants to set me up with her friend. She been talking about it for awhile. My only question for her was "Do she gotta big booty?" Come on, don't be like that. You remember that from Friday, right? Anyway, so I meet the, more accurately I see her from across the room. The first thing I saw was a big azz foot tattoo. Actually it was more like a foot and ankle tattoo. No, a foot, ankle, and shin tattoo. It was that big. Not sure what it was supposed to be, cuz the colors were all run together and it looked like somebody put a box of Crayolas in the microwave, melted them and then rubbed it on her foot and ankle area. Forgetting the fact that I already don't like foot tats, (that's just me. I've told my friends the same thing), the huge blob mass spectrometer thing made it that much more unappealing. Oh, and she didn't have a big booty either. LOL

I know a woman that just had a baby. Congrats Myo!!! I hope everything is going well.. Some pictures would be nice. Or do I have to log on to MyoSpace to see the little girl. (3 minutes later) Awwww, that is a really cute baby. I mean that. Like she already looks like a little person. You know how a lot of babies look the same, your daughter has her own look already. So very cute...

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Lemme Tell You What I'm NOT Gonna Do - Pt 1 of ???

Let me tell you what I’m NOT gonna do. I’m not gonna ask anyone for a password to their protected posts anymore. I did it a couple of times, but then I thought about it. If you want me to read it, then you volunteer the info. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I don’t care to be the fuel to your egotistical bragging. I can see you now sitting in front of your laptop, salivating at your comments, thinking aloud “Muuwwaaahhhaaaaa, I got 30 requests for my password!!! I’m awesome!!! People like me!!!” Nope, people don’t like you. They are just nosy. It’s a fact of life that people want to know what you want to hide from them. Tell someone that they can’t see something, and they want to see it that much more. That’s why there are paparazzi. They aren’t being giant douchebags for their health. People like to see what they aren’t supposed to. It’s the same with protected posts and private blogs. I’m not gonna front. My first reaction when I see one of those is “I bet there’s something juicy in those posts. I wanna read!” Yep, I’m nosy too. I mean I’m curious.. Yeah, that sounds more manly than nosy. LOL. But, half the time when you read them, its like why was this private anyway? A huge letdown. And even when it is something of substance, I still don’t wanna be keeping up with 50leven passwords so I can read your blog. Sure I could just go to my email, but do you know how many emails I get a day? Especially on weekends. I’ve decided that I’m just gonna skip those.

You may be asking yourself “Is he really that big of a jerk?” The answer is yes. You can keep doing what you want on your blog, but there is no need to wonder why I’m not asking to read it. Either volunteer the password, or don’t expect me to be there. I’m not gonna beg you to read. Simple as that. I’m not asking you to change, just letting you know where I’m coming from. I don't need you to agree.

This was fun. I should make it a weekly post of what I’m NOT gonna do. Give me a chance to vent.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Cult of Personality

It’s not like me to hold my tongue for an extended amount of time. Usually if I think something, then I’m gonna say it. Or even if I don’t say it, I’m gonna write about it on my blog. Well, this situation is about 7 months in the making. Sure, I’ve mentioned it to a few people, but I haven’t really let all my feelings out on the situation. Enough buildup? Okay, here goes…I think my friend Kareem is in a cult.

I’ll pause here for you to snicker. I’m well aware that the first reaction to that statement is laughter. It sounds funny. I even wrote a joking post about cults last year. It sounds implausible and ridiculous, but I think it may be true. I’m sure some if not most of you recall my turbulent history with Kareem. He was my best friend, my brother from another mother, calling him my homeboy is an understatement. We rode hard from 7th grade until the year 2000, through school and girlfriends and partying and bullshitting. When he graduated from the green to the white, and stayed there, I had to make the painful decision to cut him off. I couldn’t bear to see la coca do to him what it did to my father. Call me sensitive if you want, but it was really a hard thing.

I moved to Atlanta , he went in and out of jail. I gave up the greenery, he had powder binges. I got on with my life, he, uhh, didn’t. My mom used to see his mom at church every now and then and would ask me if she should give him my number. For a long time I resisted. I didn’t know what was up with him. I didn’t know if he was off that stuff. I didn’t know if he would be going back to jail in the next month. I couldn’t take it. Finally, last year after some soul searching I decided that enough time had passed for me to get back in touch with him. I told my mom to go ahead and give Kareem’s mom my number.

The day he called me was a little strange. I didn’t recognize the number with the 912 area code. Usually I don’t answer unidentified numbers, but for some reason I took a chance. It was Reemy-Reem… We caught up on the years, he apologized for his drugged out antics (including but not limited to stealing my CD’s, running to my crib when he was hiding from the popo, and general boorish behavior). It was pretty cool. I was still apprehensive, but he sounded like his old self. In the course of the conversation, he told me that he was getting married. Fresh out of the pen and already getting married. He asked me to consider being his best man. I didn’t immediately agree, just cuz I needed to make sure that there would be no further relapses before I invested myself in him again. It wasn’t anything personal, just knowing the ways of addicts. In another conversation I spoke with Claire, his fiancĂ©e. She was extra enthused that Kareem and I were becoming friends again. It was weird to me that this woman that I knew nothing about, knew everything about me, but that’s how it goes. I hoped that everything was cool, but there were a couple of things that kinda seemed off to me.

One was Claire. Not saying that people can’t find love with ex cons, but for real? You gonna just marry this guy that just came home that lives with his moms and doesn’t have a car. And you are a graphic designer with multiple degrees from the Savannah College and Art and Design? I’m not hating on my boy, but that’s not exactly an equally yoked situation. It started to make more sense the more I got into the story. Claire was from Uganda , and was in the country on a rapidly expiring Visa. In order to stay here, she either had to find an educational sponsor, or get married. In my mind, that’s where Kareem came in. I know, that’s mad cynical, and I could be completely wrong, but that’s the vibe I got. Anyway, when I went down to Savannah for Thanksgiving, I got up with Kareem and Claire.

Kareem told me that he and some of his buddies from church were gonna be hanging out. Supposed to play some cards and eat leftover Thanksgiving vittles. I met Kareem at the Krispy Kreme parking lot on Skidaway. Pounds and hugs were exchanged. He looked healthy. His eyes didn’t have that familiar drugged out yellow tinge and slant. I followed him down some back streets to his church brother’s crib. When I got there, there were teenagers watching the BET Hip Hop awards while the adults were chilling in the kitchen playing cards. I was introduced to Claire, who gave me an all too familiar for my tastes hug. I sat back on the couch and observed the scene. There were a few random Jesus mentions, a few stories about the revival they just had, but nothing that led me to feel uncomfortable. Even though I don’t frequent church, I’m still able to politic about religion and hold my own in those discussions. Plus I grew up in a prayer meeting. That’s what my grandma’s house was like. If there is one thing I know how to do without trying, it's be respectful. And so I was… We adjourned to the kitchen to play some spades…

It was there when I started to get a strange vibe. They were talking more in depth about their church. Kareem got involved with the church while he was in jail. Apparently the church was big on the prison ministry and reforming criminals. I know it all sounds good so far. Stay tuned... The pastor was the one that hooked Kareem and Claire up and ordained that they would soon be married before they even dated. The church also held Thanksgiving revival away from their families out in the woods somewhere. When I heard that, my ears pricked up a bit. I controlled my smirk, as I continued to listen. Not everything discussed was church related, like when we talked about The Swagger (read that post if you haven’t read it… I’m hilarious. LOL) or when the conversation about how Chris Brown is the only young singer who can actually sing now a days. But most of the night was all about the church. It might just be me, but I don’t know if you praise Jesus for the Big Joker

Okay, I’m prone to overactive imagination so I tried not to get carried away. But when they were talking about some of the donations they gave to the church, I was like this is a little excessive. How can you sign over your paycheck to the pastor, or donate your car to the church? Under other circumstances, it would be considered charitable, but if you are broke and can’t make ends meet, pastor gonna have to wait. Here is the biggest thing…GUESS WHAT THEY CALLED THEIR PASTOR: DADDY!!! A bunch of African-American men and women, calling their Caucasian pastor, Daddy. Oh, did I forget to mention that part. Yeah, he’s a white man, with an all black congregation that calls him Daddy, while retreating in the woods away from their families on a major family friendly holiday. Something just didn’t seem right about that. Can you say "Jim Jones (and not the wack rapper.)?"

Even with all that, I wasn’t thinking anything untoward was going on. It was mad strange, no lie, but at the end of the night I was still okay with it. Kareem and I talked about his wedding, which was to be this Saturday the 28th. He asked again if I would be his best man. I was leaning towards it. But guess who has not heard from his friend since that day??? That’s right. I never got an invite to the wedding, a call to ask if I was coming, tux specs, nothing. Not even a call to say what’s up? I don’t know if I was too heathenly, or if he’s disappeared with his cult, or Claire found someone else to marry to stay in the country. I just don’t know. His phone is off. My mom hasn’t seen his mom at church (they go to different services) to ask. I just don’t know. I hope he isn’t really in a cult, but more than that, I hope he’s not back on the drugs. Cuz truth be told, that’s my bigger fear.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Change My Name Like Prince...

^^^^^Can anybody name that song? ^^^^^

Prince did it. Diddy did it. Tina Turner did it… Now its my turn. It's time to change my name.

You’ve known me by a number of different names. T. Casanova, T. Cas, Rashan, Rashan Jamal, and more recently, some people have called me Rah. If you know me from work, you may call me Shawn, or Rashan with the Ruh sound instead of the Rah sound. Even my brother and sister call me that. It’s because for many years, I stopped correcting people when they pronounced my name wrong. It was tiring. I knew who they were talking about so I just answered. I can already hear someone calling me wack for that amongst other things, but you know what…it is what it is. Nowadays, I’m super obnoxious about my name. Don’t say it wrong or I will correct you. Let me give you a tutorial on how to say my name. For the people that know hip hop, my name is Rashan, like Rakim. For the Egyptologists, my name is Rashan, like the god Ra. For the cheerleaders, my name is Rashan, like rah rah! LOL. I’m bugging out but for real, call me by my name and we’ll be cool.

So why am I changing my name? I don’t know. Perhaps I’m just tired of everybody knowing my gov’t. Tired of googling myself and seeing this blog pop up first. Maybe I’m just ready for a change. I was T. Cas(anova) for like 2 years and now Rashan Jamal for a year and a half. It’s time for something new. With that I humbly submit to you my new blog name…When thinking about a new name, I wanted to encompass what I really am. I thought, what name can I use that really captures the essence of Rashan? How can I tell you everything I am in just one or two words? Then it hit me. I’m Rashan….and I’m awesome. Don’t know I am. So, my new name for your consideration: RAH-SOME!!! It's a combination of Rashan and Awesome. You like that don’t you? Say you like it!!! I am Rah-some!!! Go ahead spread it around the blogworld. I’ll even give you some suggested uses of the name....

"I read Beats Rhymes and Life today and it was Rah-some!!!"

"Rah-some is my favorite blogger"

"He is so Rah-some that I just wanna lick his face"

"Although he is kinda of egocentric, he sure is Rah-some"

See, you can do it. I know its gonna take some getting used to, but don't fret. Once you get used to the new name, its gonna be Rah-some. If the name doesn't work for you, you're just not Rah-some like I am.

Monday, June 23, 2008

The Streak

The streak is over. No, not that streak. The one that had me out and about on the town for the last month. I went out at least once for the past 4 weeks. I went to regular clubs, adult clubs, grown and sexy clubs, eclectic cafes. I was in Atlanta, and Clarkston, and Savannah. I went with Jamie and Lakesha, and Senita and Joy and La, and Kristie, and DeAndrea, and Daniele and Kareina and KY amongst others. I think I have fulfilled my social butterfly quota for awhile. So, this weekend: Guess what I did? I chilled.

That’s right, I chilled out and did nadadamthing. Nathan. Zero. Zilch. Zed. In fact the only time I left the crib was when I went to get my haircut and to go grocery shopping (and when my nephew and nieces guinea pigs were wreaking havoc on my allergies. I’ll be glad when them creatures are outta my crib.) I talked on the phone (I may need an intervention), and watched movies (Netflix instant viewing is what’s up), and emailed all night, but really I did nothing. And it felt so good. I was glad not to go out at all this weekend. I was supposed to go back to Luckie Lounge on Friday, but I so didn’t feel like going. I was thinking up excuses when I got the text that said we weren’t going. Even though I’m pretty sure the reason was a lie (I ate some bad shrimp at work – yeah, right!!!) I didn’t care cuz it saved me from being the party pooper. Lord knows I didn’t feel like going. I didn’t even have my haircut and that’s a prerequisite before any outings. I wasn’t looking busted, but I wasn’t looking one hunnid, ya nah mean?

That brings me to the next thing I didn’t do. I didn’t read any blogs. I didn’t respond to my comments. I’m a have to get up on that. Maybe tonight, but more likely tomorrow. Don’t feel neglected if I haven’t gotten to you, I was just in chill mode. I’ll holla!

Saturday, June 21, 2008

The Slow Jam Deluxe Get The Draws Tape!!!

Anyone wanna help me with my new Ipod playlist? It's called The Slow Jam Deluxe Get The Draws Tape!!! (gotta have 3 exclamation points.) Full of slow and sensual music to get your lover in the mood. Yo, you remember back in the day, when you used to make them slow jam tapes and then you would go to your girl's house and wait for her mama to leave and then turn the lights down low and offer to give a massage and pop in your tape and hope she let you get under her shirt??? No??? That's just me??? All right, then. LOL! Anyway, this is a throwback to them good old days. I have so many more songs in my head, but I wanna hear your ideas too, so I'll stop at 15. Here's what me and a relative stranger friend came up with the other day.

1. Lay Your Head On My Pillow - Tony!Toni!Tone!
2. Adore (the extended mix) - Prince
3. Freek'n You - Jodeci
4. Whenever, Wherever, Whatever - Maxwell (That was her pick, although I like Sumthin Sumthin -Mellosmooth mix) better
5. Knockin' The Boots - H-Town
6. Between The Sheets - The Isley Brothers
7. Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye (Can also be replaced by "Let's Get It On")
8. Flex - Mad Cobra
9. Turn off the Lights - Teddy Pendergrass
10. So Anxious - Ginuwine
11. Now That We're Done - 112
12. Bump N Grind (Remix) - R. Kelly (don't side eye me Diva)
13. It's Getting Late - Floetry (or Say Yes. I haven't decided yet.)
14. Cruisin (Wet Remix) - D'Angelo
15. I Like - Kut Klose

Aiight, let's get interactive with it. Go ahead and throw some more joints in the comments. Maybe I'll come back and YouTube link some of these. But I'm going to sleep now. Bon soir!

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Who Needs Sleep?

For real, y'all. My sleep pattern is all jacked up. I don't know if I'm coming or going this week. It's because I've been working this crazy (for me) schedule. I usually work 1-10. That's a little earlier than I like, but I've become adjusted to it. Waking up at 11 is now common place for me. That's what I'm now used to. But this week, I had to go into training yet again. This time for a job that's not really a promotion, not really even a position, but better than what I do on a daily basis. So, Monday after driving back from Savannah and being mad wired off a liter of Pepsi, I had to go to work at 11. Which meant I had to wake up around 9, which sucked because I couldn't fall asleep until 7:30 because of the aforementioned Pepsi. To make it worse, Tuesday - Thursday, I worked 9-6, which meant I had to get up at 7ish, which is closer to when I go to sleep than when I wake up.

But really, who needs sleep? I caught a few zzz's here and there. All I wanted to do on Monday was go home and crash on my bed, but I was hanging out with my friend from yesterday's post. No, that is not a complaint. I'm happy to do it. Happy that someone considers me a good enough friend to call me when she needs me. I'm just saying, I was so dead tired that may have nodded off a couple times sitting at the bar. I hate when people can tell that I'm sleepy. That was the first thing my friend said to me when she saw me at the restaurant. "Damn, you look sleepy." Yeah, I was. When I got home, I crashed out on my bed, but I left my phone in the living room, so I missed my nightly post midnight phone call. I woke up around 4:30 and tired as I was, I couldn't get back to sleep. That sucked... Went to work Tuesday yawning and stretching with teary eyes all day.

You would think that I would immediately go to sleep when I got home from work, but nope. I had to watch the game. And then Senita called me to chat... and then next thing I knew it was 2 in the morning again. And I had to get up in 5 hours. And I was still awake. Wednesday was much of the same thing, except I did do a little sleeping on the loveseat which is still in front of my computer. LOL This time I got to sleep around 3 and got a good 4 hours of sleep before work, but I'm still sleepy. I've been too sleepy to think about exciting blog topics, or to watch my Netflix DVD's (I got season 3 of Weeds just waiting for me, but I can't focus on it.) I'm so sleepy that I should just go to bed now. I don't have to go to work until 1pm so I could technically sleep 12 hours without any problem. But I wont do that. I have funny phone conversations to have and blogs to read, and inappropriate emails to sift through. Who needs sleep anyway???

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Don't Save Her

She don't wanna be saved...

I wish that she would trust herself more. I wish she would not allow herself to be manipulated. I wish there was something that I could say to make her realize that she's making the wrong decision... But these wishes are not fulfilled.

Instead, I play the good friend role and listen when she wants to talk or distract when she doesn't. I can't tell her what to do. I've tried that in the past. She nods her head or says "you're right" but then does the opposite. I told myself that I wasn't gonna say anything anymore. It's hard. It's really hard because I know the game. I don't play the game, but I recognize game. I've been a coach before. A couple of times recently. I helped people do what he is doing to her. I hate that I did that. I hate that I wasn't strong enough to refrain. But there's no use worrying about it. What I can worry about is that my friend is going through it. Unnecessarily in my opinion. What's obvious to me is murky to her. It wasn't murky the other night, but now that she's talked to him, its mad cloudy. But it's really not. Take this situation aside and I still wouldn't advocate for this relationship. I mean, he's cool. But does he love her? Doubtful. Does he even like her? Don't think so. And its mutual. She don't like him either. At least not from what I can see.

I told her this the other day while sipping a Heineken at the bar. I tried to be supportive. Hell, I was supportive. But I don't agree with her decision at all. I told her that she is not responsible for his well being. If he wants to hurt himself, that's his decision. It's also game. If she were in fact his whole life, then why would he seek attention in the arms of other women. He says things like this because he knows it works. Narcissistic as he is, suicide is not a viable option. And even if it is, that's his decision. Harsh? Maybe, but what's the alternative? Stay with someone that you don't want to be with for the rest of your life? That's not right either. I told her all this and loads more. Rashan is all about the real talk. I'm not sure if she can handle it, but I feel its my responsibility to give it. Me keeping quiet is not gonna help anybody.

I feel its a waste of breath though. She's gonna do what she decides to do. Her resolve lasted all of 12 hours. I hate it. But whatever decision she makes, I'll support her. That's what friends do, right? Real friends will let you know when you are wrong, but still be there for you no matter what. I wish I could could save her from herself... She don't wanna be saved.

Monday, June 16, 2008

I Put On For My City

Big wheels big straps you know I like it super sized
Passengers a red bone her weave look like some curly fries
Young Jeezy - I Put On

That is the funniest line I've heard in a minute. Anyway, as you all know I was in Savannah this weekend. I had big plans of taking pictures of all my old stomping grounds and posting them with little anecdotes, but mother nature decided she didn't want to read that blog post. I was driving around taking pictures when the skies opened up. Savannah is known for its random pop up thunderstorms that last about 15 minutes, followed by a return to bright sun and oppressive heat. But today was different. The rain lasted a good two hours and I wasn't able to get all my pictures. In fact it was raining so hard that the streets were flooded for a minute and I was temporarily blinded while driving on the bridge to my mom's neighborhood. Maybe next time I go down there, I'll be able to do that post, but for now, we'll just deal with what we have.

It was mom dukes birthday. The party was cool. Moms cried a couple of times, but held it together better than I thought she would. She used to cry at commercials, but maintained most of the night. My sister in law actually brought out the first tears of the night, with her song. Any guesses as to what corny song she sung? Of course it was " Bene.ath M.y" I thought that was funny because my sister and I were just joking about playing that song during the slideshow of old pictures we had prepared for the party. We thought that was just waaaay too corny. As far as my speech, I never got around to writing it, so I freestyled it. I had the concept of what I wanted to talk about, and stuck to it and that's all I have to say about that. Here are some pictures from the party. Most of them were on other peoples cameras including the video camera that I was operating for much of the night.

My Mom(in the dark) Her Husband, My nephew and some people I should probably know

The Party Sign

"The Purse Cake" my niece made. The strap is a fruit roll up

When that joint was over, I headed back to my moms crib and chilled for a minute. I was supposed to meet my old friend Senita who I've not seen since 99 or 2000. It was mad hard to get out of the house. I felt like I was back in high school trying to convince my mom to let me go out. I was like I'm 33 now. Can I just leave without an interrogation? I swear it took like an hour to get the house keys and be able to head out. I didn't even change clothes because I knew that woulda took even longer and I might never get out the house. Anyway, once I escaped, I called Senita to find out what was up for the evening. We decided that I would come pick her up, since she had already been drinking all day and go to this club called As far as I knew I had never been there, but once I got to her crib and rode to the club, I remembered that I had been there before when it had a different name. I don't know how I can recall anything, since all my going out stories involved either weed, drink, or weed and drink, but as soon as I saw the spot, I remembered that as being an old folks, I mean grown and sexy club.

We went in and paid the $5 cover charge (I don't remember the last time I paid $5 to get into a spot. Mad cheap.) The first thing I noticed was that they didn't check me for weapons. That was a little off putting since this is Savannah, and Savannah niggas shoot, but it was all good. Walked up stairs to the club portion of the building and it was instantly hot. Nah, scratch that. Hot is an understatement. It was a sweat shop in that piece and crowded as hell. I think half of Savannah's population was in the club. We eventually burrowed our way to the bar, and then to the dance floor. Well, I didn't quite make it to the dance floor, but Senita was out there for like half a song before the heat took over and we had to dip. We hung out downstairs in the restaurant portion (which was not selling food) of the club. Talked for a good while, laughed at some old stories, told some new ones. And I can't forget the talking about people. There were some real characters in there. Like the old man in the electric blue suit with the beret. Or the guy with the orange gators on, or the guy with painted multi color s.eb.agos... So much comedy, so little time, so I'll move on. Just a couple more things about the club... I saw a girl I went with high school with but I couldn't remember her name, so I didn't speak. She didn't speak either, but she was looking at me. Also, if I ever need a self esteem boost, I'll just go to the club in Savannah. I got mad attention. I mean, I coulda found my next stalker in the club that night.

Senita Close Up

Okay, so after we got tired of the club, we decided to hit up the beach. I remember back in the day, I used to think that going to the beach was like going to "Africa? That's far!" Name that movie... but after living in the A and driving so much it was nothing. I know, its weird for friends to go to the beach together at night, but it really wasn't like that. It had been a long time since either of us had been there, so we went. It was cool. We walked in the darkness and watched the waves and talked. After a while it wasn't weird anymore. It was just two old friends reconnecting. I know this much, if I had some different company though, it would have been different out there. LOL. Anyway, I got a few flicks from that and the ride home, but I probably shouldn't share them, since they look kinda like I had drugged and had my way with Senita from the way she was passed out sleep in the car. LOL. Dropped her off around 4:30 and was back at my mom's crib before 5. Washed the sand off of me and went to sleep. Here are the pictures I can share.

Me on the beach. It had been a long day. Don't talk about me. LOL

Right by the water

Washing the sand off

Passed Out On The Way Home

Sunday afternoon, I was gonna do the whole reliving my past in pictures thing, but it didn't exactly work out. My niece made me a "good for a 10 year old" omelet and then I went to the car to make a phone call since I can't get service in my mom's house. When it became clear that I wasn't gonna be able to get in the shower anytime soon, (too many people, not enough bathrooms and hot water) I went for a ride while I talked on the phone. I rolled by my alma mater, but the back entrance I used to go in was gated up. I was gonna go to the main entrance, but instead took a right to see my old apartment. This apartment was really cheap, but I had some good memories there. Again, they were all drink and drug fueled. The best $290 a month I've spent. I actually was heading to another old spot when the rain started. I was downtown taking a picture of Lad.y and Son's for my food obsessed homey, when the rain started. I was also looking for Froz.en Pa.radise, which wasn't there anymore, but I was told moved to a new location. That's when the skies opened up and killed my dreams of taking pictures of my other apartment, my high school and middle school, the other clubs we used to frequent...etc etc etc... Judging by the length of this post, I really didn't need anymore pictures and stories. I be writing too much.

You happy Jameil? There's your restaurant

SSU, represent!!!

I'm high just looking at my old crib...

My mom's crazy hall of pictures. Oh yeah, and my brother/nephew Nate

I got back to Atlanta around 2. I have to go to work at 11 today, and then 9AM Tues-Thursday.. That's gonna be an adjustment. I'm thinking about just staying up and then sleeping when I get home from work. Either way, I need to stop writing this now. Have a good Monday! Oh, and I forgot that I didn't add any details of my blogger meet up with La and Joy! Hopefully one of them (hint hint) can write it up so I don't have to. Until then remember...

"Jesus is the only one that can make it rain!" - The Joy 2008

Saturday, June 14, 2008

I Met Joy and La

I met Joy and La last night. Are you jealous? You should be. They were mad cool. Unfortunately I don't have time for a full recap, cuz I have to get on the road to hell, oops, I mean Savannah. Mom's party is in 6 hours, and the ride should take like 4 hours. My nephew Tarik is my riding partner as well as anyone that answers their phone. LOL I can't listen to my angry, violent, profane, misogynistic, drug promoting rap music with him, so I'll hopefully have some good conversation to keep me awake. The party is at this place that's known for its barbecue. Hopefully I wont be a clutz and spill barbecue sauce all over my lap before I get up to give my speech. That would suck. Okay, I'm outta here. Have a good one.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Less Talking, Please!

I don't like to hear celebrities talk. I really don't care what their opinions are about anything. This goes doubly for athletes and triply for rappers. As much as I like hip hop, rappers are not exactly the shining example of eloquence when not holding a microphone. I wish they would just shut up. I love' music, but listening to him in an interview is akin to taking a hot poker and sticking it in my left eye, then turning it ever so slightly. It's torture, son. How is it that you manage to be so poetic on wax or whatever Cd's are made of, yet so ignorant in interviews? No, I'm not gonna link any interviews or anything. Partially because I'm lazy, but also because I don't want to read or hear some of the ignorant stuff he says. If you need examples, just go to MTV News and search and you'll find a smorgasbord of niggatastic quotes. He's just one example that I pulled out because I actually respect his music. Don't get me started on the Sha.wty L.o's of the world. The ones that are always beefing with somebody about something or other and try to be so hood like that's the goal in life. Really, you wanna be hood? Then let me hold your money while you play tough guy. And whoever came up with the idea to give rappers DVD's should have to pay penance. If I see one more almost famous rapper with a DVD or a Yo.u.T.ube video holding guns and talking ignorantly, I'm gonna scream. Stick to doing what we pay you for. More music, less talking.

Working backwards, athletes always say the same thing. We gave it 110%. We're taking it one game at a time. There can only be one winner. We just tried to go out and play hard. Enough already. You know how I watch sports? With the volume down. As if the inane announcing team isn't bad enough, the sideline interviews rarely if ever provide any insight that your average 13 year sports fan couldn't provide. Just play the game, yo! And I don't wanna hear about how the refs are cheating you. We all know that Kobe travels every play. You talking about it just makes you sound like a whiny lil trick. It's not gonna change anything. And your contract? How about you just stop talking about it and be about it. If you gonna sit out a year, then do it. Don't make empty threats and then when you realize that its not gonna work, go running back. Chill with that. I'm all about workers rights and the right for you to get as much paper as possible, but don't look to me for sympathy when you are making loads of money. How bout you do what you get an obscene amount of money to do: more playing, less talking.

Celebrities make me sick too. I wish they would just shut up. Don't whine about the paparazzi when you play into it. Don't get me wrong. I'm down with respecting your privacy, but at the same time, why are you gonna be an attention whore and then get mad when people give you attention? You knew people would be taking pictures of you getting out that car when you decided not to put on underwear. Stop frontin! Also, I don't care about your pet projects. Sorry, things are not more important just because a celebrity talks about it. At least not to me. Also, unless you have Opr.ah status, I don't really care who you are voting for. It's not gonna sway me. While I'm talking about celebrities, your disingenuous apologies are for the birds too. You aren't sorry. You are only sorry you got caught. Keep it real with us. Just act/sing/dance/write/direct/whatever you are famous for, less talking.

Matter of fact, let's not limit this to famous people. All them Internet posting, talk radio talking, letters to the editor writing blowhards with ridiculous opinions should stop too. If I want your opinion, I'll give it to you. Or I'll read your blog. Less talking, please!

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

G.ood Luc.k


Hey ladies! Missing something in your life? Need a little bambino to make your life complete? Or maybe you already have one, but just want another one? Come see Rashan. He can help you out with that. No, he won't be the one to impregnate you. But immediately after you deal with him, you will find yourself knocked up, withchild, in the family way. That next dude you sleep with after you date Rashan will be able to guide his swimmers up your fallopian tubes to fertilize your eggs. In no time, you will have that little bundle of joy you so want.

Okay, enough being silly, but this is some true stuff. I don't know what it's about, but the last 3 ladies I've dealt with have found themselves pregnant with their next partner. It's crazy. Today, I got a text message confirming this phenomenon. She ended her celibacy streak and found herself pregnant. I'm mad happy for her, cuz I know she wanted a kid, but its just strange that this keeps happening. I mean, I want a kid. Somebody wanna get pregnant for me? Wait, don't answer that. I'm not to that point where I'm ready to solicit for random baby mama's yet. I still have a sliver of hope that I'll get a wife first. I should be proud that I'm as old as I am, and don't have any bastard children running around. But for real? I'm like that movie Goo.d C.huck, except instead of bring marriage, I bring babies.

I should find a way to market this talent. I should just hang out at the fertility clinics and hook up with desperate wanna be mothers. It's a win-win situation. I get the carnal pleasure, and they get the kid they want. I could save them lots of money on in vitro and stuff. Maybe I'll take out an ad on Crai.g's That has to be worth some money. Yo!! Imagine the number of women I can help trap N.BA players or rappers. Hang out with me for awhile, then go to your baller and next thing you know, you can give birth to a check. 18 years of child support and alimony/palimony. I mean, its just my civic duty to help them out, right?

Before anybody gets upset with me. I'm joking. I wouldn't do anything like that. Contrary to some people's beliefs, I'm not a manwhore. I only use my super powers for good, not evil. I'm like Sp.ider-ma.n, yo! Action is my reward. LOL

Tuesday, June 10, 2008


A Random Throwback Rashan Picture

Life has a way of bringing people and things that you thought you lost back to you. The last week has been full of throwbacks. So far they have all been good things.
It started on Sunday. My sister was putting together a slideshow for my moms party this Saturday. Lots of old pictures to sift through, and old memories coming back. Now you know I think I have almost total recall when it comes to the old stuff, but some of these pictures brought even more repressed memories flooding back. Like my Gordon Gartrelle shirt with the diagonal buttons.
That was a shirt I used to wear back in 6th grade before I moved to Savannah. It's hideous, I know, but at the time I loved that shirt. Couple that with the faux jheri curl (for the record its my natural hair with lots of water. No chemicals.) I rocked and it could be considered a pretty embarrassing picture. But for me it's not. It reminds me of the time right before I moved to Savannah, when life was one big melange of playing outside, riding bikes farther than my mother knew, flipping baseball cards, watching Tran.sfor.mers, GI Jo.e and Th.unde.rcats amongst other cartoons and cursing. Yep, we were just coming into our own with the cursing back in 6th grade. My Rainbow Coalition of friends (that's me in the maroon Mem.ber's can't see the J's, but I had the first pair. My first and last pair of Jor.dans) and I used to have so much fun cursing each other out, but it was all in fun. Nobody ever got mad, we just liked the sound of those forbidden words. I have so many more memories but I'll save some of those for a rainy day when I have nothing to post about I have more to talk about so lets move on.

Then yesterday, I reconnected with an old friend of mine on MySpace. I usually never even log on, and I just added pictures to my page the other day. I actually found her awhile back , but just got in touch with her yesterday. We exchanged emails for a few, caught up on 9 years, and I was able to get out my apology for leaving Savannah without telling her (or anybody for that matter.) It culminated with her sending me her phone number. She's back in Savannah for awhile, so maybe I'll try to see her when I'm there this weekend. I'm not sure if I'll have time since I'll be there for my mom's birthday party, but I'll try to sneak out. Another throwback...

And then just a few minutes ago, I got a call from Jessica. I don't know if anybody remembers from the old blog, but me and Jessica were as thick as thieves for a while there. We went just about every weekend for a few months until she moved to Tennessee for work. We used to keep in touch, but when I was going through my mess I kinda fell off. Then she was going through some mess. Then I started dating PHD, who Jessica hates and told me not to go out with. Then, I don't know, life just took us in different directions and we hadn't talked. Well, she called me tonight, and it was great. It was like old times. She'll be here next month, so we'll have to hook up. I knew there was a reason I didn't go to work today, you know besides laziness. Here a picture of us from a couple years ago.

With all this throwback stuff going on, I normally would be waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's not being pessimistic, its just being real. Usually good stuff is coupled with bad stuff for me. That means that I reconnect with someone I want to reconnect with, then one of my old stalkers pops back up. But I'm not feeling that way. I'm okay with the all the throwbacks so far, and who knows maybe I'll see even more when I go to Savannah this weekend. Ahh, who am I kidding? I'm gonna do like I always do when in the Seaport City: Grandma's house, Mom's house, and home. I better not tempt fate.

Monday, June 9, 2008

I'm Not A Poet...

But I was inspired. Keep in mind I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my ish... LOL

So Hot (copyright R. Jamal productions 2008)

You are so hot. You are…
Giving me visionz of sweated out perms and heavy breaths

You are so hot. You got me…
Dreaming about ice cubes dripping down backs and glistening legs

You are so hot. You make me…
Think about my cinnamon skin disappearing into a chocolate explosion

You are so hot. You entice me to
Fantasize about swimming in wetness, til the days stress is just an after thought.

You are so hot… You give me…
Heat stroke. Damn sun. Why you gotta be 98 degrees today?

What did you think I was talking about? LOL.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

If You See Me On MySpace...

Them photos were digitally manipulated. It wasn't me. I wouldn't do nothing like that. I'm saying, the last thing I would ever be is hugged up on some girl I don't know. In the club no less. With people looking on...Matter of fact, I wasn't even there. I stayed home. I know I was saying I was gonna go to on Friday, but I didn't make it. That's right, my cat was sick and I had to take him to the vet. So, them pictures... they ain't me.

I mean, for real. Do I look like the type that would be hanging out with Kristie, Deandrea, Danielle, Kareina, her racially ambiguous friend (I have since found out she's white) and some girl that told me to call her K.Y.? I mean, if someone told me to call them that, I'm pretty sure they would get The Smirk. Especially if that was really me, sipping on Tanq and Tonics all night. But it wasn't me. No way I was in the club buying $10 shots of Patron for the ladies. And $12 Peach margaritas? Nah, I wouldn't do that. I'm way too cheap to do something like that.

You know how you know it wasn't really me? This doppelganger was on the dance floor. We all know I can't dance. That dude was out there dancing without any prodding. Does that sound like me? Dancing to reggae? We all know how I feel about music that I don't understand the lyrics to. I.just.don' I mean, I can dig Mu.rder, Sh.e Wr.ote or Gh.etto Stor.y, but when you get to them obscure dancehall joints, I have to decline. Can you picture Rashan dancing on the floor with 4 women dropping it around him? Can you see me hanging out while some stranger rubbed her booty up on me and I'm not in a strip club? Nah, it wasn't me..

But back to them pictures. I'm trying to get them emailed to me so I can see why people think its me. I could see me taking pictures of myself, you know I like to do that. But with some girl named K.Y. that I just met that night? Who told me to make sure I got "all of this" in the picture, followed by a Vanna White wave down her short body? Someone who told me to put my hands "lower" when I rested my hands respectfully on her back? Who told the camera person to take another picture, because you couldn't see my hands on her booty? Who put a leg up on the bar stool to make the picture more provocative? That doesn't sound like someone I would be associating with, does it? Just because she looks like she could be one of my girlfriends, doesn't mean anything. If you see them pictures on MySpace, just remember that wasn't me. Now, I know how Kels feels.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Flashback Friday: 90's Music Quiz

Since my homey Diva aint doing it anymore, I decided to steal her Flashback Friday title. What you gonna do about it? Huh? Huh? I'm gonna hit you all with a music quiz. Since a lot of you are mad young, I''ll restrict this to songs that were released in the 90's. You should remember at least some of these. I'm gonna break it down into 2 sections. 10 rap and 10 R&B joints. I give you the try to name the song title and the artist. I know it's hard, but also try to refrain from reading everybody else's answers until you have made your guesses. It'll be more fun this way. Lurkers, feel free to jump out of lurkdom to answer some of these. Tell all your musically inclined and/or competitive friends. It's time for Rashan's 90's Music Quiz...

The Rap Quiz

1. Broken glass everywhere
if it ain't about the money, I just don't care (that's right)
I'm that Goodfella fly guy, sometimes wiseguy
Spend time in H-A-W-A-I-I


2. Niggaz wanna try, niggaz wanna lie
Then niggaz wonder why, niggaz wanna die
All I know is pain
All I feel is rain
How can I maintain, with mad shit on my brain

3. Check it, fifteen of us in a three bedroom apartment
Roaches everywhere, cousins and aunts was there
Four in the bed, two at the foot, two at the head
I didn't like to sleep with Jon-Jon he peed the bed
Seven o'clock, pluckin roaches out the cereal box
Some shared the same spoon, watchin saturday cartoons

4. At night I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Candle sticks in the dark, visions of bodies bein burned
Four walls just starin at a nigga
I'm paranoid, sleepin with my finger on the trigger

5. Time to drop these bows, like Dusty Rhodes
Then I yell ho
We knockin em off they feet like a Southern hustler supposed to do
I's in the house, house like, a joint is lit fo my kin folks
And all the niggaz that was down, since we been broke

6.Girlies wanna ride with a brother like me
Cos they be hear me gettin funky frequently
They tell me don't drink and drive, I say what is this
Pass the Heinekin and Mind your business
Roll up a fat one and pass it around
Laid back, hypnotized by the funky sound

7.your simple words just don't move me
you're minor, we're major
you all up in the game and don't deserve to be a player
don't make me have to call your name out
your crew is featherweight
my gunshots'll make you levitate
I'm only nineteen but my mind is old
and when the things get for real my warm heart turns cold

8. I wonder if I blasted a little Elvis Presley
Would they pull me over and attempt to arrest me
I really doubt doubt it, they probably start dancin
Jumpin on my tip and pissin in they pants and
Wigglin and jigglin and grabbin on they pelvis
But you know my name so you never hear no Elvis
9. It's been three weeks since you were looking for your friend
The one you let hit it and never called you again
Remember when he told you he was about the benjamins?
You act like you ain't hear him, but gave him a little trim
10. Just wakin up in the mornin gotta thank God
I don't know but today seems kinda odd
No barkin from the dog, no smog
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog

The R & B Quiz

1.In the thunder and rain
You stare into my eyes
I can feel your hand
Movin up my thighs
Skirt around my waist
Wall against my face
I can feel your lips
2. And I can't stop thinkin' about
About the way my life would be
No I can't stop thinkin' about
How could your love be leavin' me
And I can't get you outta my mind
God knows how hard I tried
And if you walk right out my life
God knows I'd surely die
3.Don't think I don't see them looking atcha
All of them wishing they could have ya
And as a matter of fact
A bunch of them are itchin' for you to scratch them
4. Baby I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into
Deception and lies
Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind
I'm only saying what's in my heart
112 "CUPID"
5. Here I am, and there you are,
your eyes are calling me to your heart.
All you gotta do is knock, I'll let you in,
And we will feel the passion that flows within.
I don't mean to be bold, but I gotta let you know,
I gotta thang for you and I can't let go
6. Still have your picture in a frame
Hear your footsteps down the hall
I swear I hear your voice, driving me insane
How I wish that you would call
7.I started to write you a letter
But I wanted to be more clever
I wanted to get down and sweet talk you
Hey, baby
8. No more empty conversations
Next time I will be totally sure, oh yeah
Don't want the pain of falling in and out of love
It's more than my poor heart should endure
9. Promises you made me
All the things you told me
You said you'd never leave me
We'll be together for eternity
Now it's all in the past
Now I know our love will las
tLady I will do all I can
Lady I will be all I am
10. Sorry didn't notice you then
Then again you didn't notice me
We remain passers by until the next time we speak
I'm hopin I can make you mine
before another man steals your heart
and once your beauty is mine
I swear we will never be apart
Have a good weekend. I may post something if the mood strikes me. One!

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Thinking When I Should Be Sleeping

I used to think I was pretty secretive. I was known for listening to other people's stories and not telling any of mine. Then I started blogging. I realize now I tell relative strangers way more than I tell people in real life. Well, let me backtrack, because I don't think of my blog fam as strangers, especially those that I've spent hours and hours emailing and calling. But for some reason, its a whole lot easier to tell you guys things. And it's pretty much no holds barred. I don't care that people know my every move. I don't care if it makes me look bad. I keeps it real, son!

I just can't be that secretive blogging dude. There's no mystery about me. You know what I look like, where I live, where I like to hang out, my drink of choice, and so on and so on. There's no wondering about what Rashan is like. Although there are a few glossed over areas, you pretty much know the real me from reading the blog. And if there is something that you don't know that you want to know, then ask me. Diva, I would hope, can tell you that I'm pretty much an open book, except of course when I'm self deluding. Then all bets are off, but I don't deliberately try to hide stuff like I used to.

What was the point of what I was saying? I'm not sure anymore, other than to just tell you that I'm pretty transparent now a days. I thank blogging for making me this way. Although it used to be second nature for me to be less than forthcoming, I think I'm over that now. You never will have to worry about hearing stories of my hidden wife and kids, or that my blog persona is totally different from who I really am, or that I hold an embarrassing, mysterious secret that I don't want anyone to know. I pretty much tell it all, flaws and all, so you get a true sense of who I'm is. I'm just Rashan. That sarcastic, nerdy, intermittently cocky, eclectic, anti social, charming, loyal, narcissistic, realistic, (I'm tired of coming up with adjectives) hip hop head that thinks he is cooler than everybody else, even if nobody else believes it.

"As a matter of fact..f*ck being anything else!" (name that song...)

Wednesday, June 4, 2008


Cause I don't feel like writing anything else...

I shaved my moustache off accidentally yesterday. Was trying to shape it up but didn't have my glasses on. Depth perception all screwed up... I should post a picture.

Speaking of pictures, guess who finally figured out how to use his scanner? Me! Well, to be more accurate, my 12 year old nephew figured it out, but I'll reap the benefits. Old pictures for my throwback posts!

93 degrees is too hot. I'm just saying. I didn't stink, but there were too many people around me that were not so fresh. I wish I could say it was just men, but alas it wasn't.

I know it's wrong, but I find great humor in watching the spelling bee and watching those egghead kids spell something wrong and get devastated. It seems like one or two is gonna commit hari kari because they couldn't spell o-n-y-c-h-o-p-h-a-g-i-a (noun. def. nail biting.)

I can't spell a lick. When I forget to use spell check, my blog posts are riddled with spelling errors. Not getting paid for this, I sooo don't care.

You ever talk to somebody who constantly verbally abuses, physically threatens and insults you. And you like it? Me either. LOL

I'm thinking of colliding my 2 worlds together. When me and Kristie hang out, I usually don't bring other friends, but I might do that on Friday. She's bringing her crazy self fondling co worker amongst others. I might invite my people I hung out with on Friday. I'm kind of wary of that cuz I don't know how the 2 groups will interact.

There is no better non sexual feeling in the world than laying down in the shower and letting the hot water run over my head. I can't seem to wake up sufficiently without doing that. TMI? Who cares.

Is everyone gonna use the T Pain Roger Troutman voice thingy now a days? Kanye, I thought you were better than that. On 2 songs no less. Stop that and get back to real rhyming.

Nelly and Dwele both release albums on June 24th. Guess which one I'm gonna get. If you answered Nelly, then I need you to stop reading my blog immediately, find a chalk board and write 100 times: RASHAN DOES NOT LIKE WACK STUFF!!! (make sure there are 3 exclamation points.)

I'm not one for celebrity gossip, but I heard something the other day that messed with my head: Clay Aiken is having a kid? This dude gets to reproduce and I haven't? The world is messed up.

There are too many people from my last job working at the new one. It's like untrust the sequel. A couple of weeks ago, this girl got mad at me, because I didn't remember her. She really tried to get me to remember her, but it wasn't working. I still don't know who she is, but when I saw her yesterday, I made it a point to call her by her (alleged) name.

My nephew threw my phone the other day. I said to him quite sternly: "Carlin, pick the phone up right now!" Guess what his response was. "I can't Uncle Rah shan. I'm too tired." I know I shouldn't have laughed, but I couldn't help it. I need to work on the disciplinarian thing, but if you woulda heard it, you would have cracked up too.

I finally managed to write a post without self referential linkage. I mean, I didn't go back to my previous posts to illustrate my point for this post. Probably because this post has no point. It's just ran-dumb.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

The Cure

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I know, I'm not normal. Since Jameil is always trying to sell me, I thought I would just sell myself. LOL Consider this a creative writing exercise, I'm not really this cocky. Have a great day!!!

Monday, June 2, 2008

Six - Tee

New Post at 1 PM EST...

Nikki: Mom wants you to write something for her birthday party.

Me: Okay...

Nikki: She says none of your biting satire or anything that'll make her feel bad.

Me: Word? How about if I'm sarcastic to someone else?

Nikki: I brought that up. She says none. Also don't mention the word "Sixty" in it.

Me: Well, what am I supposed to write? She's kinda handcuffing me. You can't put restrictions on my genius.

Nikki: (laughs) I don't know. Figure it out.

Me: There will be absolutely no poetry. What does she want me to write a short story or something?

Nikki: I don't know.

That was an excerpt from a conversation I had last night with my sister. On June 13th, my moms is turning the big 6 Oh. See, I didn't mention the verboten word. She's having a party in Savannah, and of course I will be going. I was hoping to just be the cameraman, but now I have a role to play. She wants all of her children and grandchildren to do something at the party, but umm I'm at a loss. See, the problem is I don't do sentimental very well. I sometimes wonder how I could actually be related to this woman that cries at commercials and gets weepy at the drop of a dime. I must really take after my father in that realm. I don't have a clue of what I can write about. Sure, I can do like I do on my blog and tell stories, but I can't really think of any right now. All of my stories are filled with debauchery, or embarrassment, or frustration. I've been wracking my brain to come up with an appropriate make my mom cry story. Or maybe I can do a fiction story, but all of those are ironic or not necessarily appropriate for telling in front of moms and grandma, not to mention the myriad of friends and family that will be in attendance. I simply DO NOT DO INSPIRATIONAL!!! I don't even like inspirational movies. But that's a post for another day. I don't know. I'll figure something out I guess.

Also, what do you get the woman that has everything and/or refuses to tell you what she wants. I've been thinking about this for months, but I haven't come up with anything. Well, that's not exactly true. She did hint around that she wanted to go to the Tina Turner concert in November. Unfortunately, by the time my sister dragged this info out of her, of course the tickets were sold out. I checked some of the scalper websites and tickets are going for like $600 each. I love my mother, but I'm not sure I'm trying to pay $1200 for her birthday. I mean, she know I'm broke. LOL. Plus, I know ain't no way my brother is gonna kick in anything substantial. And my sister ain't got no job except homeschool teacher right now. We'll see what I can come up with, but I'm open for any suggestions. No really, tell me what to buy. Okay, have a good day, and I'll holla at you all later.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Friday Night Lights

Friday was one of my work homegirls last day. To commemorate the night, a few of the co workers and I decided to take her out to celebrate. It was suggested by someone else that we go to a strip club. After some arm twisting, I agreed. LOL. After work, we headed to Strokers. I led the way, since I literally live within drunk staggering walking distance. I was followed by Jamie, the one that was leaving and Lakesha in their respective vehicles. We got there around 10:45, and waited another 10 minutes for 2 other co workers: Keb (I mentioned her before as the one that wore a fresh men's suit to work) and Jimmy. It was still pretty early, so the usual line around the corner was non existant. We paid our $1o and went in the club.

Our first move was to the bar. I got Jamie and Lakesha a couple of Lemon Drops and me a Henn and Coke. I was the sponsor for the evening. Don't trip, I wasn't one of those cats that gets tricked into paying for drinks. I was doing it because I wanted to. I wanted to show the ladies a good time. And no, I wont be your sponsor. LOL. Keb and Jimmy got their own drinks and next we found a table close to the stage. Now, when I roll to the strip club solo, I usually stay far away from the stage. I'm not much of a tip the stage kinda guy. I figure why pay for what I can see for free. Is that wrong? LOL My money is usually spent more on table dances, which are more personal, but I was with other people so when with Romans, right?

We laughed and watched the dancers, and before I knew it, my cup was empty, so I headed back to the bar with Lakesha. Patron for me this time. Forget all that slow motion drinking, I graduated to shots to get a buzz going quicker. 2 more Lemon Drops for the ladies. Keb and Jimmy are tossing dollars on the stage. I'm just chilling watching it all go down. I had a mini stack of ones thanks to the bartender giving me extra change from the second set of drinks. She should have given me a 10 stack, but instead gave me a 20 stack. That worked for me. Might as well recycle that money.

I gave Lakesha some ones to toss at the dancer on the stage. It was fun watching women tip women. Keb and/or Jimmy had brought a girl over for a table dance. When she was finished, we motioned for her to dance for Jamie, who was uncomfortable at first but managed to make it through unscathed. Lakesha was putting dollars where the sun don't shine in unmentionable places. The song was over and the girl left. It was time for more Patron. And more lemon drops. And more tipping etc etc etc. There was this one dancer that Keb and Jimmy were mad excited about. Let's just say her assets were so large that she looked like she was gonna fall over. They grabbed her for a dance while I was at the bar again with Lakesha. I came back to see her doing a headstand and nearly spilled my drink doing a double take. It was wild.

The rest of the night I remember, but it was really only in flashes... At some point, I tried to convince Jamie that she should dance for me. I was holding out a $20 which she tried to grab from me, but it ripped. W.hite Chocola.te from the "T.ip Dr.ill" video got the stage to herself and sucked. She didn't hardly even move. Not my type anyway, but still it was disappointing that she didn't put on a good show. Anybody watch Colleg.e Hi.ll? I don't, but apparently the stripper that slept with one of the cast was in the house. I got a dance from her and people around me were mad groupie-ish. I had no idea who she was though. I remember being an ass to the bathroom attendant. He tried to sell me a $7 pack of and kept talking too much and not moving the line along fast enough. I asked him "if I give you some money, will you shut the hell up?" He said yes, so I put a few in the tip jar. LOL. There was this one dancer who was on stage doing pole tricks. Lakesha wanted to tip her but said she was scared. Not sure why, since she had been tipping all night. Anyway, I did my civic duty and took her to the stage and showed her how to do it right. Got offered $500 by Keb to get a strippers phone number (I didn't get it. Didn't even try) Eventually they were ready to leave and were going to The Ve.lvet Roo.m.

When we were leaving, this Bama in a checkered short and shirt outfit, with gold teeth, tried to holla at Jamie and Lakesha. But first he tried to clear it with me. "Hey, playa. Which one of these is yours?" I bout cracked up. They toyed with him for a few minutes before sending him on his way sans phone number. The dude came with every corny line you can think of. It was like a bad stereotype. By this time, Jimmy had rolled out somewhere. I was so close to my crib that I could taste it so I was just gonna call it a night. I wasn't sure I was in dress code for Velvet Room anyway. Keb tried (successfully) to punk me into going with them to the next club. "Nigga, you got these beautiful ladies tryna go to the club with you and you gonna take yo ass home?" Okay, so I told them I would go. We each hopped in our respective rides and formed a 4 car caravan. I was in the back since I didn't know exactly where the club was. As I'm following them, I realize that they didn't know either. They took a wrong turn on LaVista, then took a U-turn to go the other way. I stayed with them for awhile until they ran a red light. At that point, we got separated. I called Jamie to see where they were, but she was following Lakesha, who I found out later was following Jimmy even though I thought he had already left. She told me where they had turned, but I couldn't catch up with them. Plus, I really wanted to not be driving anymore, so I told Jamie that I was going home and that I would see her another time. Turns out they never made it in Velvet Room, but parking lot pimped for a minute. I'm glad I didn't stick around for that.

So that was my Friday night. I came home and took a shower and dozed off watching "The Do.ors." I had some crazy dreams, then got up and went to work. This was my rotational Saturday to work, so I have Friday, Saturday and Sunday off this upcoming week. Friday night, at Luckie Lounge. If you are in the city come on out and say what's up! Or don't, I'ont care. LOL! This post woulda been so much better with pictures, but people was mad camera shy and by the time we got out of Strok.ers, I forgot I had my camera in the whip. Maybe next time.Talk to you later...