You're hitting it from the back and your song comes on. Then, right after the little pause, you spank all that ass and sing along, "Ssssmack my bitch up!" She turns and glares at you over her shoulder...and cums...hard.

#Feminism

Wailing Winter Winds

Master of Death: [his jugular fatally slashed] Your technique is magnificent. 
[voiceover] 
Master of Death: When cut across the neck, a sound like wailing winter winds is heard, they say. I'd always hoped to cut someone like that someday, to hear that sound. But to have it happen to my own neck is ridiculous. 
[dies] 

Physical...physical!

She's a skinny li'l somethin'...but, I like this.

Vainglory

It's interesting how this culture equates a man's parenting skills with how much crap he can put up with from his child's mother (and whether HE pays child support on time). "If he really wanted to be involved, he wouldn't let that stop him from seeing his child." May I please request that you push your head FARTHER up your ass to the point where it muffles your dumbassed mouth? The number of games that some parents play using their children as game pieces is staggering. Don't even think to pretend that women are not above using their children so.

The rule of thumb for you, my slow-witted friend, is this: Anything a man can think, feel, say or do, women have proven themselves just as capable of thinking, feeling, saying or doing. So, get off of that high, pretentious horse.

I have tried NOT to drag out details of my particular baggage because, "Hey! I picked her, right?" But, I will say that a man can get to the point where he wants to cut his losses in a situation...especially if the children are complicit in the duplicity. The promise and ability to "do what they want to do" goes far in gaining children's cooperation. After dealing with established patterns of behavior, enabling, deception and simple bullshit, I get to the point where I let them run headlong into the wall I see and they don't.

* * * * *

Professor X (X-Clan)

I've been told that I'm too serious. I don't have patience for some forms of bullshit. Love & Hip Hop (whatever city its filmed in) will never be something that entertains me. That show and those behaviors are some dumb shit. These types of folks are exactly who Professor X was describing when he said, "Vainglorious!" That you like the show says more about you than you're comfortable acknowledging.

When a person's sole criterion for judging the worth of an individual is their monetary net worth, they tend to deal with people who are devoid of real human emotion. You get people who treat other people, and worse: themselves, as objects.

Even if you realize that those behaviors are unhealthy, your viewership enables more of that type of programming to be greenlighted. "Ion't really like the show. I just watch it." *smh* That's what a rating is, numbskull. You increase the ratings just by having your TV on the channel.

I'd say that's food for thought, but whatever! Duwhutchalike...as usual.

Muckraking

The worst thing about the internet is the people on it. Gaw! Shut up, sometimes. Every news site has a comments section below its stories, now. If you want to see how stupid your neighbors are, then go read those comments. No matter what the story is, some knob is diametrically opposed. No matter what the story is, some jackass will find a way to turn it into an argument about Obama.

More Cute Kittens and other Baby Animals

Comments:
It's just a matter of time before ObamaCare forces you to eat kittens! These Liberals have their head in the sand!

-xXBlackOpsNeoConXx

*smh* Whatever, dickhead!

As my mother used to quote when faced with public assholism: Better that people think you're a fool than that you open your mouth (or click Submit) and remove all doubt.

Anyway, check this out:

Liberal

Moderate

Conservative

Both Liberal AND Conservative are political EXTREMES. The sooner you twats realize that, the sooner you can shut up. Sheesh!

---

RIP Sherman Hemsley

Sherman Hemsley's character, George Jefferson, was groundbreaking. We tuned in for years to watch his antics. He set the stage for many of the sitcoms and characters that have followed The Jeffersons.

RIP Chad Everett

I remember him from 70s and early 80s TV shows. We'd go over Big Mama's house. Big Mama was my dad's godmother. She was short and stout. She always had candy. Sometimes, she made gingerbread. My 6'3" dad would be reduced to a little boy when she baked.

Like a lot of old, black ladies, she had her shows. We'd watch Barnaby Jones over there a lot. Sometimes, we'd watch Trapper John, M.D., McCloud or Columbo. Chad Everett was that suave dude.

---

I'm at another crossroads in this existence. I struggled and pressed and worked to get to this level of management...only to realize it's just another level of sludge in the sewer of American Business.

My fucking Idly Rich Plan sucks ass, I swear.

---

Now that the hoopla has died down, I'm finally watching 24. THAT's what you monkeys were all goofy about? *smh* If ONE "good guy" did something smart, 24 would be 3. In this first season, every broad on this show is a fucking, useless hostage waiting to be grabbed. You think I'm being misogynistic, but you should save that accusation for the producers. The show's on Netflix. Every female character in the first half of the first season was a hostage at some point. Go stream it and see for yourself.

*This is the point when some knob says that it was the first season and it takes time for a show to catch its stride*

I'll keep watching until I get so nauseated that I can't suppress the rising of bile. But, uh, it ain't lookin' good so far. One reason for this insulting dynamic of 'girl hostages' is simple: Hollywood sucks ass...usually literally.

Hollywood fight choreographers, for the most part, have yet to accurately portray the dynamics of hand to hand combat. So, women in action movies continue to be reduced to caricatures. They're either hostages or they're ridiculous.

Weight classes exist in every major professional fighting organization for a reason. You can't ignore the physics of inertia, mass & force. A 5'7", 135 lb. woman beating a 6', 200 lb. man who has been fighting and training for as long as she has in a protracted hand-to-hand scuffle is stupid. While there are exceptions to every rule, on average amongst martial artists and fighters, there is a demonstrable difference in strength. Even when I'm training against a smaller man, I have to remember to use technique and not strength. (Side Note: Girls have been trying to knee us in the balls since we were six. Try that in a real conflict, you're just gonna piss him off and he's going to punch you as hard as he can.)

Wanna see tight, believable, beautifully choreographed fights? Watch Ecks vs. Sever again. Lucy Liu is "li'l bitty". Lucy Liu's character never matched mass or strength against her opponents. She was smart, fast and I never had to suspend belief to watch her in fight in that role.

Anyway, my business dive suit is hosed off and dried. Back to the muck.

Deuces...

Forget "Like A Man"...Just THINK!

People who know me will attest to this fact: Treating me like you think I’m stupid is one of the surest ways to get me to show you how wrong you are…usually in a manner that makes you look really simple. I used to tell my ex-girlfriend all the time, “Stop managing me.” I could tell when she was trying to use conflict resolution techniques to assuage me. Newp! Use your own brain! Even if the methodology of thought in which you engage me is one you learned, personalize it. The only textbook solution that will work on me is disengagement. In other words, go away!

Come to think of it, that’s the final conflict resolution technique that she used on me. I’m amused. Touché, pussycat!

---

It’s cold as a witch’s tit here today! Why the hell is it 50-some’n degrees in Atlanta, right now?

---

I watched Think Like A Man this weekend. It was ok: Happily ever after for Black girls, and whatnot. They’ll leave the theater feeling empowered. That’s important.

Meanwhile…in THIS galaxy…men with brains three feet above their pelvis remain disenchanted with the characterization in the movies.

There were too many characters in this movie. What did we really know about the women? Having a relationship with a woman without knowing what’s particularly squirrelly about her is usually a recipe for a lot of arguing. Experience and anecdotal evidence speak volumes on the subject. For instance, why did one of the characters sleep with men on first dates before she was so miraculously saved by this dating bible written by a stand-up comedian? Chris Brown’s himbo character could NOT have been SMARTER when he approached her initially. Think about it. So, what was it? Daddy issues? Was she molested as a young girl? Was she just horny all the time? Seems trivial, but each one of those issues has kept many a man up at night wondering what the hell was wrong with his woman? But, that was untouched.

That was just one issue in five. Youngest female COO in corporate history? What drove that? Naked ambition? Fear of failure?

Where was that li’l boy’s daddy?

The best-rounded man in that clique of doofuses was the married, white man. He was also the wimpiest. Dude dunked on him and he congratulated him. Testosterone replacement therapy is in order. Did it have to be portrayed that way? Newp! But, the perception in the dominant culture in American society is that a married man is a domesticated man. Minivans & helmets for the kids cuz that’s what she wants.

Regardless, the rest of those male characters were so one-dimensional and flawed that if they turned sideways, they’d disappear. Sistas SWEAR that that’s how men really are on their dating scene. “You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince.” *shrug* I know there are a lot of stupid, venal, selfish men out there. There’s no sense in being defensive about that. Still, there are a lot of good men out here who are struggling to do the right thing in a society that continues to look down upon them and who passed on or who are viewed as 'undateable'.

Anyway…if you watch the movie and enjoy it for the sake of entertainment, who could find fault in that? But, if you take those scripted behaviors or the book that inspired this movie as some sort of behavioral guide, then you can probably return your brain to sender marked “UNUSED”.

F'real, tho...

Paragraph upon paragraph, months later...

In the end, this why she mad:

...and, I wasn't even trying to play it like this.

If you know you're ultimately incompatible with someone, how long are YOU going to play pretend? Then, you tell them, without either being inconsiderate or mean, that this thing you have going on doesn't work for you. You tell them that you don't WANT them to change themselves. You just want/need to move forward.  That, after all, is the entire point of DATING. You're testing your compatibility with this person.

There was a period after the breakup where my sole concern was improving my life for my brats and for myself. I was completely unconcerned with dating. PS3 was all the entertainment I needed. It was during that time period that I ran into someone interesting. That is no slight on ANY of my exes.

So, please stop taking it like that. You know you couldn't deal with me or my bratz, anyway.

Objectivity & the Female Gender

I do objectify women. *shrug* I won't apologize for it. I'm genetically designed to appreciate female mammalian secondary sexual characteristics. For the uninformed those are those curves produced by the XX chromosome set that make babies & straight men want to nurse. (Ma-Ma!)


I mean, I see a stacked babe wearing something form-fitting or revealing and my brain automatically begins preparing Tab A or insertion into Tabs A-C. (Yeah, I know! I'm nasty!) This is merely idle speculation, mind you. My conscious mind doesn't even bother calculating the odds of success of each angle of approach any more.

Meh! Why bother?

But, my subconscious mind is still blubbering with a reaction that I hope to never successfully quell. My subconscious mind is slavering like chained hyena with blood somewhere close. ("Gottdamm!! She got a NICE ass!!!") Fortunately, my poker face is iron. There are women who I'd put a hickey on one of her asscheeks in the middle of the Rose Bowl parade. But, they'll never know it…and, neither will you…because I have restraint. Now, when I'm around friends that I trust, I might just admit that I find a woman attractive.

I say this because I realize that women live in constant fear of men and annoyance at men. Much of this reaction is because many men don't know how to compliment a woman and don't know how to approach a woman. Much of their reaction is because many women let fashion put all their goodies out where men can ogle them. There are no excuses in either case.

Fellas, even if everything about the woman makes you want to be Tarzan to her Jane, give it a rest. Unless she says, "Yes, I'll go home with you" or something equivalent, sitcho monkey ass down.

Women, know what you want, don't send mixed signals, and put on some damned clothes. Your behavior & clothing is never EVER an excuse for stalking, molestation or rape. But, some of these dudes just DON'T know how to behave.

Anyway…I gotta go.

Deuces

Assholic Reflections

I crack me up.

You know, if you can discover a product, service or system that appeals to stupid people, you can make yourself RICH. There are a LOT of stupid people in this world.

Look at your television. 45-65% of the shows on your screen would NOT be there if there were no stupid people to watch them. This is a market-driven economy. If there is no market for something, it goes away. Look in the back of your closet for proofs of this theorem. Man vs. Food? Really? EVERY reality show? Don't weasel now because YOU like a stupid TV show.

Even MMA, which I like, is ultimately some dumb shit. Two dudes step into a cage, do some antisocial, felonious tomfoolery to each other and then they're supposed to speak intelligibly to a camera while standing there dripping sweat and blood on the mat and discuss who they'd like to savage next. The guy who just got his ass kicked is supposed to stand up (or, wake up) and analyze just why he got his ass kicked and then shake the hand of the guy who just stomped him out. Yeah…dumb. But, at least I recognize it.

Anyway….

Orange hair

Sistas, you can (are going to) do what you want with your hair. We already know this. So, let's keep the eye rolling to a minimum, if we can. Still, we need to talk. Orange hair…really?!? You realize that you're not doing that to please your man, right? That is purely a personal decision on YOUR part. No brotha's ideal woman has orange hair unless he's an anime fan and has never had real boobs pressed on his face intentionally. If he had any input into your decision to dye your hair orange it was probably during an exchange like this:

YOU:    I'm going to dye my hair.

HIM:    *looking at TV* OK…

So, let's be real. While y'all are clownin' weaves and wigs, you REALLY need to be lookin' at your orange-assed head and tellin' yourself to stop it.

FOOTNOTE: Blonde ain't for everybody EITHER.

This has been a public service announcement sponsored by the We Try Foundation (WTF).

Morning dumps

I'm still not understanding what moves a dude to leave home, drive all the way to work, and THEN take a dump. Can you please stop that? Pinch that off at home. Spare me the uncomfortable moments of taking shallow sips of breath in a vain attempt to avoid inhaling your effluvia. And, yeah, I know that's a "natural bodily function", but you emerging from the stall, initiating eye contact and cheerfully greeting me? Especially on those occasions when you don't even bother to LOOK at the sink, let alone wash your soiled mitts? Uh…no. That's socially unacceptable. Go home and try again tomorrow.

Back pain

My back is twinging. My dad could probably tell me whether this is my sciatic nerve or some other shit. But…Ion't really even care. Just make the hurting stop.

My daughter used to walk on my back when she was little. She would giggle and dig her li'l toes in while trying to balance on my back. It was perfect. She's 5'8" and 160 lbs. of muscle now. She'd put me in a wheelchair even if she WASN'T in a bad mood, if she walked on my back, now.

So, I tried getting a li'l, Asian babe to be my girlfriend. She could've walked on my back for me. It would've been a symbiotic relationship of mutual appreciation, shared cultures and, of course, libidinous pursuits illegal in some sovereignties. After she walked on my back, she could sit on my front. Of course, like most of my 2011 endeavors, THAT turned to shit. *psy*

So, now what? Now, I'm masking my limp with my signatory pimp walk. çLMDBAO@that

It'll get better soon. I'm cautiously optimistic about that and a few OTHER things in my life, right now. I wish I had something to sip to the hope that I didn't just jinx myself by putting this down where psyqyq's nemesis can take note of it. That's a muted reference to past entries for the uninitiated. Ask, if you're so inclined.

Anyway…later.

Stability…Reassurance

An overwhelming percentage of the activity that we engage in is in a search for stability and reassurance. Even when the activity is self-destructive, it is usually a person's way of asserting their own individuality, which in turn reassures that individual that he or she is unique and in control of their 'self'. Nowhere in human behavior is this more evident than in the mating rituals of humankind. In increasingly rare circumstances, parents pick their child's mate. Even this practice is followed to assure the parents and other older relatives that their genetic heritage will continue. Stability…reassurance.

Social media, the latest internet rage, puts a new spin on mating rituals. You can build a profile of yourself for others to review. You add relevant, socially acceptable (American custom considers asking a woman's height marginally acceptable, but asking her weight to be unacceptable), statistics and, usually, a description of yourself before placing yourself on display like a canned ham on a shelf. Then, other individuals peruse those e-shelves. They poke, prod and examine the merchandise in hopes of finding that perfect someone. By matching your stated desires with someone's stated qualities, you're assured of finding the person that you are compatible with…at least that what the marketing department says. Stability…reassurance.

The thing is: Nobody wants to think of himself or herself as 'average'. So, women are "purpose-driven" and "motivated" and are "looking for the same in a life partner". Stability…reassurance. *smh* Are those the words that come to your mind when you think about the people that love you? Honestly? Ugh!

Even guys who profess to have that "I don't love them hoes" philosophy live that way in order to protect their fragile egos. Their professed philosophy states that if they achieve a level of success in their chosen enterprise, then they will gain the attention of women anyway. But, because of their success, these males can now deal with females on their own terms. Stability…reassurance.

I just want to be settled enough in myself that I don't need to engage in these monkeyshines. I want to free myself from my own need of reassurance and find my own stability. I function best in a state of detachment. I'm well aware that this is my own form of stability & reassurance. But, like you, I need to be able to live with myself.

*deuces*

Really?

Laura (2/15/2011 12:11:42 PM): shut up fool...

She is SO rude. But, anyway, I told you: Somebody tells me to shut up at least once per day. My genius will be more appreciated after I'm gone.

---

"I am a focused, determined, highly ambitious feminine woman that is living completely in the moment." çSeriously, do guys really WANT to date that chick? She'd give me a headache. I think I'd do better dating a chick with a 'stage name' that rhymes with 'wiggles'…providing she can cook.

I was on Facebook under my civilian identity (like that one? *smirk*) and asked The Fellas the following:

Fellas, if you were forced to pick between (a) the woman who didn't make a lot of money, but who really took care of your household or (b) the woman who brought that cheese, but who can't cook, doesn't clean and is more likely to be working late than with you, who would you choose?

One of my female friends IMMEDIATELY went in on that. She told me:

no man in his right mind gonna answer that......because dude act like women now and they want a broad with money....second no guy is gonna commit to answer a because that will leave most of the pressure on him....in todays society cooking and cleaning isnt a must or looked at as a task thats so hard a woman cant multitask with having a career.....plus men are staying single longer which mean they can cook and clean also...men are not looking for that anymore

Yet another reason why I'm happy with hip hop and PS3 as my steady lovers. So much less BS to deal with. I responded with this.

Honestly, I think the woman who we labeled "A" is gonna be a lot less inclined to do the whole "yours" & "mine" thing. She'd be more likely to say "ours". That's important to me.

My friend told me in a sidebar to this conversation and I understand her point:

making alot of money or not 40 hours a week at work is 40 hours a week at work.....time is being sped up we no longer have 24 hours in a day its more like 18 hours if i am not mistaken....women dont have that type of tme on their hands anymore

You know what? I respect her point, actually. I got something to think about today. That's very cool.

♩ Just a taste…of honneh! A little bit! ♬

If I ever get married again, the expenses will be plane tickets, hotel room, tiki torches for the sunset wedding on the beach, an itty bitty bikini + sarong (for her) and that's IT. $26K for a wedding? Are you out of your mind?

…oh, yeah! I forgot: a camera for the personal porno we'll be filming later that night.

They had the SI swimsuit models on David Letterman. Yowza! Them brawdz were hawt!

Anyway…interesting day for The Kid!

Later, tater!

Online Therapy: $1

This is a crazy world we live in. All these self-help books, websites and relationship gurus got you folks bonkers, f'real. Before you do some of the shіt you do, consider whether its some ol' weird shіt only customary in America or whether it's something more commonplace with the rest of humanity. Because, people pay lip service to this fact, but they don't truly acknowledge it: American political correctness is out of fucking control.

Those who fail to heed history's lessons are doomed to repeat its failures.

The lapdogs are determining the way things are done, nowadays. They sneer at the curs and mutts for their coarseness. The lapdogs believe in the big, bad wolf…but, they think they'll never deal with him or his like. Look at some of the simple things. Microsoft Word corrects gender-specific wording like mailman or policeman if you don't turn off the setting. Apparently, enough people think using "postman" is wrong to elicit the effort to program word-processing software to slap your hand for using it.

Meanwhile, the biggest economy in the world is the one where, not all that long ago, they used to kill their girl children because boy children were preferable.




Women like to confront me about being divorced. They say this: "You still love your ex-wife." Or, "You and your ex-wife are going to get back together again." Then, they stare into my eyes, furiously searching for some dramatic realization and revelation where I say some shіt like, "Y-y-you're right! *sigh* I didn't realize it. But, I do still love my ex-wife."

*Cue sunset*
*Fade*
*Credits*

Bіtch, just cuz YOU got pregnant by your ex after y'all broke up…

You can't be me. OK? Stop watching Oprah! At 4:00, just turn your TV the fuсk off and go sit on the porch. How 'bout that?

Ugh! That's why I'm really not giving a fuсk about dating right now. I'm just really not. I mean: my eyes are open. But, I'm real cool sittin' at home watchin' Netflix. BY. MY. FUCKING. SELF.

'Honey do' List, my black ass!

Oh, lord! I forgot about what happened the last time I thought about this shіt! OK, look! Don't call me mad & cussing cuz I had this soliloquy on tap, ok? This ain't about YOU, per se.

Loose the hounds!

I just saw this F-Cup mami putting the breast milk that she just expressed into the refrigerator downstairs. Thankfully, I made it back upstairs without banging this thing into any doorknobs or causing one of the biddies in the back to shriek and faint from her consideration of the dimensions. Good Lord! You should see those puppies. Actually, those things are hounds. She has to harness them.

*fanning*

She's safe, though. Unless a chick showed me the Restraining Order she had against a dude/brawd, I wouldn't poach a servicemanperson's woman. S/He's out there being shot at by [whatever we're labeling our non-American opponents this year]. S/He won't have to worry about me poaching the cooch whilst doing so.

DA/DT

---

I had other considerations of life, liberty and the pursuit of happyness(sic). But, unless I put them down right when I'm having them, then *poof* they vanish into the æther.

---

Back to the grind…

I'm going back to training tonight. My trusty steed had some issues. I had my radiator and my starter replaced, one right after the other, in the last six weeks. I couldn't make that trek the way I normally would. *psy* As a consequence, this is going to h-u-r-t. I have to tone my muscles back up AND lose the gut I put on. Somewhere along the way, I lost that drive that I had to get back to class in the first place. I don't know what's going on with me with that.

It's an odd moment to look at your life and have the self-realization that you've actually been depressed. Am I still depressed? Will I be able to dig myself out of the hole I put myself into? I was off for a week and a half, grew a beard…hair was woolly. As I got ready for work today, I ended up doing a self-assessment whilst shaving my head and face.

Maybe that's the issue with me. Women sense depression like dogs sense fear, don't they? LoL@that.

Meh! Whutiver! Doesn't really matter, does it? I'm both amused and appalled at myself slipping into/being in this state with all of this proclaimed & diagnosed self-awareness that I'm supposed to possess.

---

Love! Hate! Sex! Pain!

…makes me wanna have a knockdown, drag-out, superhero/Saiyan fightsmashbrawl with a brawd the way Will Smith & whatsherface did in Hancock.




…anyway.

Addressing (some of) MY Issues

OK, y'all are gonna need to stay offa here if you take what I write as a personal assault on your identity. Then, you hit me up all mad at me like I'm trying to sneak & talk about you. Fuck I got to be afraid of you for? I mean, seriously...If I'm gonna talk about YOU, then trust that I can and will name names.

So, Rosa, I'm sorry what I wrote upset you. But, I wasn't talking about you in particular.

*back to generalized statements*

I'm not gonna be stifled though. I'm gonna say what I think and what I feel. This is MY blog. If you can't handle it, then don't click the link to come here or don't type the address in the Address Bar. It's pretty simple.

This is why I tend to stay to myself, though. I tell you what's up with me from the giddyup. I'm single. I date, occasionally. I'm not trying to be in a committed relationship, right now. Then, I catch hell later because I'm acting the way I said I would? Is that 'woman logic'?

That don't really fly with me, ladies. All the high-fiving y'all do together and ribald commentary on your superiority to men, but then you tell me in the next sentence that you really have no control over your reactions? "Sometimes, we can't stand ourselves." "Men MAKE women act the way they do."

Riiiight!

Can't have it both ways, though. Either you are the superior beings you claim to be, which means you're in complete control of your actions & emotions and the things you do are intentional; or you're just as screwy as you admit to being when you're being honest/shifting the blame. *shrug* I don't much care. I love women to death. Goodness, y'all are lovely. But, I feel the way I feel about a relationship, right now. Leave me alone, if you can't deal with me.

Call it baggage, if you must. Complain that it isn't fair, if you're so inclined. But, the way I see it, I've had one woman decide that, 'Oops! I made a mistake! I don't want to be with you, any more.' That was her choice, just like what you do is your choice. But, that ripped my fucking family to shreds. My kids have had all kinds of issues stemming from the dissolution of their family structure. I have two sons living with me that are just now getting to a point of normalcy. My impressionable daughter, who I now see occasionally, has had some real issues that have expressed themselves in the time that's occurred since my divorce. THAT's what I have to worry about.

Now, here you come, swearing up & down that you ain't like 'them other bitches'.

If you say so...

You really ain't tryna deal with me and just MY issues...let alone my kids and theirs. I have more to lose than sleep by being in another relationship.

So, you can pop off at me and be all furious, if you want to. That does more to reinforce what I feel than anything. And, as I've been saying: This is more about what's going on with ME, than anything that YOU have done.

Anyway...whatever level we deal on, if I tell you that we're cool, if I tell you that I dig you; then that's what I mean. If you wanna be mad at me and/or not deal with me because I'm not immediately dropping to one knee to ask you to be my bride, then that's your right.

Regardless...deuces!

Bash de Bunda

Women are appalled by this. I'm amused.

"Would you really let some chick smash her sweaty, musty, juicy booty into your face like that?!?"

Uh...hell yeah! In fact, if you got a big, shapely ass and can do a handstand like that chick without powdering your metacarpals: Call me!

Haha!

PAWG

Sistas get pissed with PAWG appreciation...but, I don't know why. I think it's an extension of women's natural enmity toward any woman who "thinks she's cute". That's hilarious. Because every sexually active woman has had what she thinks of as her 'hoe phase'...even if that's only within the confines of her own skull. But, now? LoL...the sisterhood only extends so far.

Anyway...whoo hoo! Lookatdatayuss!!!

2010…and Still No Flying Cars

We've been back to work for two (count 'em: 2) days. How you go'n call in sick today when you already don't have any time? I love her to death. But, um, this ain't what you might call an "employee-friendly" economy. Betta step lively and watch the closing doors!


Ex-wives are the curse of the universe on men dumb enough to get married. Ugh!


Do you ever look at a dumb assed individual and incredulously realize that THIS slow fucker was his dad's fastest sperm that day? You jus' have to quietly hope that that nigga started eatin' some fruit or somethin' to improve the quality of his subsequent busts.


Cage and Eminem have individually spit some of the most venomous bars ever heard on mics. They've said some ol' uncomfortable shit in their quest to rise to the top of the rap game in their respective genres. Both of them are on some ol' whiny-assed EMO shit right now. It's tragically comical. Everybody ain't built to be a thug. That lifestyle will tear you up and scatter the pieces.


Me & Laura talked about each other for about two hours today. She's gonna get me fired (again) for laughin'.


You gotta check out Crunk & Disorderly and In Hood Terms. NEITHER Fresh nor Sane got good sense.


This Dating Game is on my mind on my mind on my mind. That whole cocoon thing? Hm. It's lookin' better and better. Doin' what you're supposed to can (and quite often does) leave you assed out. Playin' the game better than them others leaves a wake of pissed off folks in your wake. So, what ta do…what ta do.

Plus, I'm gunshy. How do I know that this woman who's all that & a bag a chips won't decide later that she can't stand me? Answer: I can't know that. You picks up ya cards. You plays the hand yer dealt.

Sista said I was 'Shallow Hal' cuz I said I answered her question with the response that I won't date a 450lb. chick who isn't cute? If that's how it gotta be, then so be it. Like the sayings go: Life's too short to date ugly chicks…and…I ain't go'n bump no mo' wit' no big fat woman.
I guess.

Quickie

The Health Care Debate

It sounds like a well-informed discussion of the issues when phrased that way, doesn't it? Actually, it's a polarized rant by groups of people who show a distressing tendency to parrot ideas put forth by the spokesmen of their chosen political party. In the instances where I've looked to see what people who actually have healthcare as a basic right, the "debate" just comes off as narrow-minded, hidebound stupidity. As an example, check out what random, "regular" people have to say about their own experiences with that system. The example comes from, of all places, DarwinAwards.com.

OK! OK!

Maybe, they aren't "regular". People there tend to think atavistic stupidity is amusing in a mocking way. (Hm!) That, in itself, would kind of diametrically oppose them to a lot of the herd taking part in the "healthcare debate".

In Other News…

 

I need caffeine…

BRB

 

Venus — Mars€

I just saw something that reminded me of two antonymic truisms:

• No matter HOW good she looks, some other dude is sick & tired of her bullshit.
  
• It's a lot easier to put up with her bullshit when she's cute.
  

When she's all in your ears tellin' you how YOU fucked up; you're lots more inclined to deal with it when her nicely-rounded qualifications for speaking to you in that manner are protruding into your field of vision and triggering a memory of being noisily squished onto you in the recent past.

Know what else cracks me up? There's logic and there's woman logic. Consider all of the implications of that statement. I want you to be irritated with me for the RIGHT reasons.

Women buy things because they were on sale—didn't need it…but it was on sale. That's woman logic.

'k…pay attention: If you buy it on sale, you save whatever percentage the item was marked down. This is inarguably true. BUT: If you don't buy it AT ALL, you save 100%.

She says: I don't get it.

*snork*

Oink!

Nutbush

Fellas, d'you know a chick who you don't even LIKE, but who you would bang out like a gorilla on a drum? I see that more often, lately. I think to myself, "Ugh! She gets on my nerves!" But, the way her finer qualities fill out her jeans makes me admit, at least privately: I'd wear her dumb ass out like Easter clothes!

*psy*

Before you call me a pig, ladies; know this: 1) I already know that I'm a pig. So, whatever. Embracing one's piggishness is liberating, at times. 2) Just cuz I think it doesn't mean that I'm going to follow through on the thought. There are (probably) millions of women on this planet who can make my groin stir. But, I'm really NOT tryna sleep wit' that many wenches. Some of the cute ones still have cooties and I don't want cooties on my junk.

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It is caffeine that triggers these moments of pelvic introspection. Not Mountain Dew, per se; but, definitely caffeine...and testosterone.

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