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

Quantum Ripples

Watch "AMV - Nostromo - Quantum Ripples" on YouTube

I Might Not Be The Right One...

I'm really digging this cover of Daft Punk's Something About Us.

Tweet! Tweet! Rockin’ Robin!

I've done some acrobatically filthy things with eagerly willing participants. But…

*lost my thought*

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Wassup, piglets.

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I need a Mountain Dew. But, MD keeps weight on you like a diver's belt. So, my creativity must be internally fueled. I apologize in advance.

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So, yeah…Twitter. Ever tried it? Tens of millions of people on it as you read this, but I know a few people who still think, "That's just a fad." Hell, my dad, who has sent me 800-character text messages, still thinks rap is a fad and hates my baggy jeans & boots. Meanwhile, my son rides a skateboard and dresses like a pre-1968 peace activist complete with "stovepipe" jeans, fedoras, and oxford shirts.

Anyway, I apologize for the digression. Back to Twitter. The more I interact with people on the basis of hip hop on this social medium, the more artists I find who are creating some great music without the backing or, more importantly, direction of profit-driven, commercial radio-focused major labels.

You've seen young Wiki, below. But, I've also found hard working, but relatively unknown, artists, groups and producers like Classified, Conrizzle, Clear Soul Forces, Droop E, Mike Mills, and Reallionaire Jream along with Hip Hop legends like Erick Sermon. I named these folks in particular because they have free music on the web…and, it's good music.

*shrug* I'm sure you'll do what you do. But, if you're open to suggestion, check Twitter out, you pseudo-Luddite. It might surprise you.

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If a woman the same size as her partner picks a physical fight with him and he defends himself, is he an "abuser"? Women will say some crazy shit like, "She couldn't hurt him"...as if his skin is organic steel like Colossus. Or: He shouldn't have been with her in the first place. (Riiight. Cuz, prognostication & clairvoyance comes with the penis.) Or, my favorite: Men MAKE women act like they do. (I've heard that from a few women who didn't want to take responsibility for their OWN actions.)


Seen this yet? Rihanna Defiantly Refuses to End Contact with Chris Brown

There a reason why those two singers keep hanging out. Everyone condemned the dude, ignoring reports that their relationship was "volatile". "Volatile" is media for "She swings on folks". Now, look back at how that shook out. When she showed up w/black eyes, she wasn't talking. You ever got your ass beat after you started the fight? Your ass was quiet, weren't you? You knew you deserved that whuppin'.

Is domestic violence acceptable? No. But, I bet your mom's last paycheck that your reaction is different if a dude picks a fight w/his woman and she beats dat ass. You'd laugh. Everything in the reports about the night when she showed up looking like a speed bump said to me that she picked that fight...and lost. Now...look at yourself and compare how that agitates you. He was supposed to not defend himself, right?

The rule remains the same for women as it does for men: NO HITTING!!! Maybe they've grown up some and learned that lesson.

Meanwhile...you #GoSiddown

Pretty Picture

Wiki - Pretty Picture from Letter Racer on Vimeo.

I'd much rather listen to some real HipHop than the (c)rap on the radio. Wiki has got a great start here.

Wiki Speaks...

Wikispeaks - Wiki 1993 from Letter Racer on Vimeo.
Another kid about the same age as my son. Note the hoodies...

Black Ice

The Music Industry Exposed

They Say That Only A Dog Wants a Bone (NSFW*)

Me&John's Tell Me posted byGregory Johnston on Vimeo.

Rowf, muthafukkah! Rowf!

* NSFW means 'not safe for work'. Now, erase the history before your IT Department puts a hit out on you.

...so I can die easy!

I've been watching Trigun with my son. Now, because of the theme song, I have the impulse to listen to Led Zeppelin's In My Time of Dying.

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I live in one of the most ignorant states in what is increasing ignorant population. I'm generally appalled by the attitude of stupid people who actively resist getting any more intelligent. *smh* I mean, "Damn!" These idiots booed Carlos Santana. I mean, "Wow!" That's like booing Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton. Just how ignorant do you have to be to do that?

"If people want the immigration law to keep passing in every state then everybody should get out and just leave the American Indians here. This is about civil rights." Carlos Santana, 05/15/2011

This is Amurr'ka!

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Y'know, every month there are two or three stories about paraplegics who can now walk again. Do you agree with that? Walking is a milestone in human existence. So, what is the first thing that society does to those accused of a crime? Confine them so they can't walk very far without an escort. Monkeyshines!

Anyway! More later…maybe.

(intro)[retro]{circum}spection

A Mountain Dew and a Coke and I'm still sitting here sleepy.

You know, watching the mainstream media, you'd think that rappers NEVER do charity events. HLN (which I'm fucking FORCED to sit here and watch all day due to the displays near my desk today) is all over Country Music Stars raising money for the Red Cross and tornado victims. I'm sure that it would be considered crass to point out country music's relative silence after Hurricane Katrina though, wouldn't it?

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People like to point out how high the odds are that some freak accident won't kill you in their chosen hobby. That's dumb.

SURFER: You have a better chance of being struck by lightning than becoming a victim of a shark attack.
ME: Not one person has EVER died of a shark attack in a hotel swimming pool.

A shark jumped out of a WAVE like "GOTCHA!" and bit off a chick's arm.

Although, to be fair, bipedal urban predators have left far more scars on my precious hide than any critter or avalanche ever has.

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I'm so fucking anxious, right now. My son has a Bake Sale that he's trying to participate in today. I went to the Walmart Supercenter last night around four am and they were closed. I couldn't get the snack packs he asked for. Now I'm stuck where I am and I can't get the snack packs to him. There isn't a single individual in this miserable State of Georgia that I can lean back on for help.

Shit! I'm gonna let my son down.

…so much for self-containment.

UPDATE: I emailed his teacher to ask if I could get some pizzas delivered to the class, instead. No answer yet.

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I got to sit and watch my daughter play powderpuff football yesterday. She was playing for the Freshman team. I got a huge kick out of hearing her name called on the PA system for making a play.

My daughter's coaches in her other sports could mold her into a machine if they had any sense. I showed her some techniques for reading plays as a DB. She eats that shit up like a Great White in a school of tuna. She's competitive. She expressed her frustration with silly-acting girls afterwards. It was only flag football. But, my child wanted to HIT! I showed her how she can legally hit in flag. She was supposed to be the safety, but they had her lined up at corner. *smh* She played too far off of the line and didn't jam her opponent at the line because she wanted to go after the ballcarrier, which is more the way the safety should play than a cornerback.

I was frustrated with the students coaching their team. There are some fundamental plays that they could have run that would've utilized their players very efficiently. I mean, you have sprinters on your team, why would you logjam them at the line of scrimmage in flag football where someone could just reach over and end the play by yanking a flag? Sweeps may not work on official prep teams because you learn to watch out for and to call out sweeps…but, on powderpuff teams? Let a sprinter get a head of steam on a motion play, hand it off to her in full stride and block that corner for her. All day, every day! Triple option? They'd have killed. But, no! Handoffs from noodle-armed quarterbacks who were afraid to throw were the order of the day.

This kid is awesome. I admit to bias. But, I gauge her instincts based on what I saw looking at the play and how I'd react to it. If I was right and she reacted the way I would, then ok. She got tricked a couple times. Still, her instincts are good. Watching her run down a junior was like watching a National Geographic film on some predator. She has this focus, man. I could see it from the stands. As you can see, I love it! I will be working with her on some things.

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I've been sitting here thinking about the concept of love, its definition, its limitations and its benefits. I'm relatively sure that a lot of the people who claim to love somebody are "doing it wrong". Y'see, most people make the claim of love in a proprietary sense. They seem to feel that 'love' gives them the right to expect certain behaviors from the object of their affection. Their love is also contingent on the behavior of that person. In a way, these people say, "I will give you my love providing you meet my criteria." But, is love really an emotional exchange? That's more of a transaction than a feeling.

These people seem to feel a sense of entitlement and ownership based solely on their relationship with this person. This is the root cause of domestic violence in all of its degrees. Beyond even that sense of entitlement and ownership is the need for control. This brings us to the innate desire for domination. This is apparently a basic human drive as discussed by the Israelite King Solomon in the Bible book of Ecclesiastes, chapter 8, verse 9. (Wo)Man lords over, or dominates, (wo)man.

So, what does this mean? It means that each and every person who has been in love, is in love, or who wants to be in love needs to really examine themselves. They really need to admit their own shortcomings and understand where they are selfish in their own desires. And, you know what? This does not mean that a person would have to give up all of their selfish desires. But, they DO need the ability to prioritize. This knowledge of self will allow a person to decide what is truly important to them when their desires come into conflict with the needs and desires of the person they love.

*shrug* Anyway…more later, maybe.

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Check out Sounds from the Ground's Stampede before you go. I heard it on Nu Jazz today and was instantly infatuated with it.

 

Hip Hop

My lady.

My love.

Hip hop.

Electric Feel

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

You're the Only One

I only wish that I could do something like this with my daughter.

Raw & Uncut Cynicism

This is a repost from a blog I wrote four years ago. Something about it resonates...but, probably not for the reason YOU think.

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The reality and the fantasy...

Know what the ORIGINAL Kryptonite is? Let me provide some biblical examples for you:

Adam was a perfect man GIFTED with the perfect woman crafted by the Supreme Being. That's a li'l different from your aunt telling you about her friend's cute daughter. Remember how that turned out?

Samson was the strongest man alive. He killed a lion with his bare hands. BEFORE he met Delilah, he was married. Did you know that? Samson asked a riddle of his new inlaws. The bet was: 30 linen garments and 30 sets of clothes.

"Then Samson's wife threw herself on him, sobbing, 'You hate me! You don't really love me. You've given my people a riddle, but you haven't told me the answer.'"

"I haven't even explained it to my father or mother," he replied, "so why should I explain it to you?" She cried the whole seven days of the feast. So on the seventh day he finally told her, because she continued to press him. She in turn explained the riddle to her people."

*scowl*

I keep hearing Dave Mustaine croon how it all turns to ashes in your mouth.

Each year of life another hope, dream or desire is crushed irrevocably. When you see a newborn, you see near infinite potential, promise and possibility. Each year of that child's life SOMETHING gets crossed off the list.

• "Whoop! Clumsy! So much for gymnastics!"
• "Another D in math? So much for physics!"
• "Lazy eye not getting any better, huh? So much for fighter pilot!"

The sons of Hanuman CLING to hope like soap scum on the side of a bathtub, though. They hold the people who slide past the mathematical probabilities up as an example. What do people say when they think they're 'encouraging' you? "[Insert improbable event here] COULD happen to you! It happened to such-&-such. I was reading about it in the paper the other day."

Bleh!

...a 2Pac quote comes to mind.

Angel Dust

Sean Price went to Europe and showed his ENTIRE ass! This shit is fonkeh! OMG!!!

The Many Times I Feel Lonely

I'm reasonably assured that you don't know nothin' 'bout Esthero? I'm disheartened because you should. Let me know what you think.

I Hate Everything About You

8^|

r e s o l v e

Know who's on my mind? 2Pac.

People don't realize that 2Pac on many of his more popular songs was actually a BLUES artist. I've dedicated "Do for Love" to myself for one very important reason: I'm a "sucka for Love". *smh@me* But, listen to the song.



That is the same blues that John Lee Hooker used to sing about. Life is a trap. I've let myself get caught up. I'm going to need to break out of this trap some kind of way. I've considered seriously returning to the ways of my youth.

Despite yourself, you give someone your heart. They hand it back with a sniff of disdain and walk away without ever once looking back. See the failure in that sequence? Giving somebody your heart is akin to a cow walking up to a butcher and bowing it's head before the ax. You have no one to blame but yourself.

F'real, though: the next chick that tells me that I'm not 'being fair' by comparing her to the way other people have treated me because she's DIFFERENT than them is gonna get laughed at and walked away from.

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The blues...despair, rejection, survival. When he says, "My god!", that's more angst than a little bit. That's why his music hit folks at such a visceral level.

...and, I keep nodding and plugging away at this shitheap known colloquially as "life" until I don't have to. It's time for a change.

Youuuuuuuuu!

So, I'm walking down the hall to get my coffee, minding my own business, when one of the executive admins pops through a door down the hall ahead of me. She's tall, slim and detached. Y'know...cool, but aloof. As she's walking, the battle computer that is my mind was momentarily agoggle, "What th-? Izzat? Is she wearing...Booty Pops?!?"

She went into her office and I went on to the kitchen to clean out my cup. So, as I was in the kitchen sub-audibly remembering something that I'd forgotten, who should walk through but the admin. She asked me who I was talking to. I said, "Myself." I was pouring cream into my cup when she walked past. Using scientific observation methods developed through years of practical research, I was able to determine that the modest bootymeat that I spied was indeed a natural blessing and not an enhancement. Well, all right!

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I made the mistake of clicking a YouTube link that my son sent me. Now, I can't get the screamo version of Crank That (Soulja Boy) out of my head. I'm disturbed that I like that version better than the original.

"Youuuuuuuuuuu!"

As Mentioned Elsewhere
A chick is not qualified to wear shoes from Frederick's until she's been Supermanned at least once.

...and that exhausts all Soulja Boy references for a year...or until he does something ELSE stupid (like release another CD)...whichever comes first.

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Sleeepy!

When I do finally fall asleep during the day, somebody or something invariably wakes me up. My consciousness is tattered right about now, though.