Likability, by Guy Kawasaki

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.

$840.00

Just read the "offense" and if you've done it, you owe that fine. Keep going until you've read each "offense" and added up your total fine. When you are done, you don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine.

Smoked pot $ 10.00
Did acid $ 5.00
Ever had sex at church $ 25.00
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you $ 40.00
Had sex with someone on MySpace $ 25.00
Had sex for money $ 100.00
Ever had sex with the a different race $ 20.00
Vandalized something $ 20.00
Had sex on your parents' bed $ 10.00
Beat up someone $ 20.00
Been jumped $ 10.00
Crossed dressed $ 10.00
Given money to stripper $ 25.00
Been in love with a stripper $ 20.00
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know $ 0.10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work $ 15.00
Ever drive drunk $ 20.00
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk $ 50.00
Used toys while having sex $ 30.00
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before $ 20.00
Went skinny dipping $ 5.00
Had sex in a pool $ 20.00
Kissed someone of the same sex $ 10.00
Had sex with someone of the same sex $ 20.00
Cheated on your significant other $ 10.00
Masturbated $ 10.00
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend $ 20.00
Done oral $ 5.00
Got oral $ 5.00
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving $ 25.00
Stole something $ 10.00
Had sex with someone in jail $ 25.00
Made a nasty home video $ 15.00
Had a threesome $ 50.00
Had sex in the wild $ 20.00
Been in the same room while someone was having sex $ 25.00
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars $ 20.00
Had sex with someone 10 years older $ 20.00
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 $ 25.00
Been in love with two people or more at the same time $ 50.00
Said you love someone but didn't mean it $ 25.00
Went streaking $ 5.00
Went streaking in broad daylight $ 15.00
Been arrested $ 5.00
Spent time in jail $ 15.00
Peed in the pool $ 0.50
Played spin the bottle $ 5.00
Done something you regret $ 20.00
Had sex with your best friend $ 20.00
Had sex with someone you work with at work $ 25.00
Had anal sex $ 80.00
Lied to your mate $ 5.00
Lied to your mate about the sex being good $ 25.00

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.

---

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.

Transitional Thinking

Playoffs in every sport and people still don't understand on a personal and professional level that you cannot transcend until you're better than your opponent at his own game. Black folks, stop avoiding the issue. If we are going to better ourselves and improve our lot in life, we're going to have to (1) keep the spotlight on the system and (2) get better at using the system at its most profitable levels than those that want to keep us "in our place".

"Keeping it real" as a life philosophy hasn't worked as well as planned. "Keepin' it real" leads to dumb shit like waving your shirt around your head like a helicopter. (Seriously, what THE fuck? And…don't front! You liked that bullshit.) Don't smirk, East Coast Headz. You thought everything should be "like Whoa" right around that same time. Walkin' around with your pants under your asscheeks? Real or not, you look dumb. Extreme lacefronts? Real or not, you look dumb. Abandoning the system cuz "The Man" is holding you down? Yeah…hm…how's that really workin' out for you? And, even if you're makin' out all right, how is your cousin's hustle going?

See, the point is: The system can be used the same way that those ethnicities that claim White use it. But, it needs to be used en masse. We need to pool resources and reach back to help those who are where we used to be whether they are our children or someone else who can appreciate our gifts.

Easier said than done though, ain't it?

*psy*

(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?

---

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.

---

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.

---

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.

---

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.

---

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

 

Another Uncomfortably Suggestive Company Logo

I know a couple of you won't see it. But, this made me laugh out loud at work.

I work as a graphics designer too, at times. I'd probably design something like this out of boredom. If my client picked it, I would not point out the lewdness. I'd only ask them twice, "Are you sure?"

*crackin' up*

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*

Uncomfortably Suggestive Corporate Logo

Brazilian Institute for Oriental Studies

Classic

They Walk Among Us

Well, I think…

Don't get it twisted. What these talk shows are doing is establishing a philosophy for you. What used to be the province of minds like Voltaire, Plato, or Kant is now the playscape for Rush Limbaugh? Steve Harvey? and Oprah?

Really?

Every time the camera tightens in on their face, that's theatre for the philosophy. After the midgets finish fighting...after the tear-filled relation of some personal trauma...after the fake laughter during the lame-assed skit...and, after the anchor pleads for you to visit the network's Facebook page to share your thoughts, the watered down philosophy begins. Consensus does not make an action WISER. If a clot of idiots agree to do something and one wise man objects, consensus demands that you pursue the idiotic course of action. ("Hey, y'all! Watch this!")

Fuck that. Imma do me. You do you...way over there where the pieces of you won't splash on my shirt.

The irony of this post does not escape me, by the way.

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!

Mr. Nigga

The whole N-word controversy really only stems from the innate belief that Black folks are too ignorant to formulate language and to know what they mean when they speak. No language anywhere is static. If people use a language and their geography changes, their economy changes, their circumstances change, then that language is GOING to be affected. New words are formed as new ideas occur.

This is one of the basic ideas behind anthropology. Anthropologists ideally want to study a culture, including its language, without any outside influence to avoid what they consider contamination. African cultures after the diaspora that spread its people all over this planet underwent a change. They could not stay the same. The languages of the people snatched from their homes and taken to The New World underwent all sorts of change. Cultures clashed violently and like any oppressed people, those who were and who had been slaves took their small victories where they could get them.

Now, consider this: I'm from Detroit. Detroit's first Black mayor was elected in 1970, the year of my birth. My entire existence has been in an environment where the descendants of slaves who are my people were self-aware and self-governing. In that environment, the word 'nigga', as it was used, was & is different than the word "nigger".

Now, this is the part where you start squirming in your chair and declare that, based on your experience, this is semantics. You cannot wrap your mind around this. Even though, you call your female friend your "friendgirl" rather than your "girlfriend" to avoid confusion, you can't see it. Even though you can call your best male friend "ya boy", but would be insulted with him if a White man called him 'boy', you don't comprehend.

So, let me just make it clear to you and to those knucklehead White folks who are clamoring to use the word because we can. I can say 'nigga'. I'm not saying 'the N-word". Fuck that. I know what I mean when I say it. My boy knows what I mean when I say it. That is the essence of communication in this changed English language, Urban American dialect. Until you understand the proper usage, context and differentiation between 'nigga' and 'nigger', you can't use the word. It's one of those things like the "'i' before 'e', except after 'c' rule". It doesn't have to make sense. It can even not apply sometimes. Just roll with it.

Hip Hop

My lady.

My love.

Hip hop.

Electric Feel

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.

Social Networking

I’m forced to suffer through the banality of American culture with the displays in my company’s lobby being set to Headline News. Every day, there’s a slicked-up, graphically glossed, monument to stupidity beamed out to the world. “Let’s go to (the phone/Facebook/Twitter) to see what viewers have to say.” This is the point where the news that THEY have chosen to highlight gets doused in the putrescence of Middle American opinion. I mean, quite a few of the people around you RIGHT NOW are functional morons. I’m sure you know this. If you don’t see any functional morons around you, that means that YOU are the functional moron in that setting. Anyway…why would you give any validity to the opinion of a functional moron?

Me:    Why should they consider themselves “terrorists”? They know that in a setting of conventional warfare, they’d be slaughtered. They realize that the public in the West is fickle. So, they strike at that base of support. In their eyes, there are no “noncombatants” and they don’t really give a damn what anyone else thinks about that. Hell, the word “assassin” comes from THEIR culture.

You:    I like green.

HLN:    There you have it. Terrorists should be in fear of green.

*smh*

Watching dummies reinforce their Closely Held Stupidities is a window into reality as it currently stands. People are snuggled comfortably into their stupidity like a winter blanket on a cold day, apparently. Some clod stands up and parrots some idiotic statement made by some politician that conveniently completely ignores fact, history and established custom.

“Well, I think…” *bovine excreta spews* The crowd applauds.

The maxim is, “Those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it.” The West, in general, and America, in particular, are relatively sure that doesn’t mean them. NIMBY. Some moron is SUING McDonalds for successfully marketing Happy Meals. So, in effect, she wants to strip me of MY choice to reward my child with a Happy Meal because SHE won’t tell her brats ‘no’. You cannot have a laissez faire system of economics on one hand and restrict/penalize companies who find ways to successfully market their product on the other. The same goes for Four Loko. Rather than refuse to buy a product that they find unpalatable, for whatever reason; these knobs are trying to ban it. *smh* Just dumb…

And, the news media considers you a moron, as well. Start critically reading and watching the news. Watch how media outlets describe things. Any employee who speaks out against the practices of a former employer is described as ‘disgruntled’. When someone speaks passionately against something, it’s described dismissively in the media as a ‘rant’. Your music is segregated and programmed for you. You’re spoon-fed your own opinion and conditioned to accept the consensus of a group rife with morons, idiots,  and imbeciles. And, you accept it.

That’s why it doesn’t bother me what YOU think about what I like.

You're the Only One

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

Physical Graffiti

My ex-wife is high yella. In fact, I know quite a few caucasians who are actually DARKER than she is. The only thing, besides a complete lack of desire, that kept her from passing for White is her nose.

Now, I'm not saying this to extol the virtues of her translucent skin and inability to tan. I was just musing on something that I used to do. Y'see, sometimes, I get bored easily. I mean, I'm sitting there, there's nothing to do, everything is quiet, everyone else is asleep, I have a Sharpie...

So, I'd write on her naked buttcheeks while she was asleep. I mean, I couldn't put a whole manifesto on her ass cuz that would wake her up. But, I could write short, concise statements on life, the universe and our place in it. You know...shit like: This End Up! complete with an arrow. Sometimes, I'd write "Bite Me". Or, the ever-pithy: ASS

Then, I wouldn't say anything. She'd get up later and begin or continue her day. It wasn't until she had to 'drop trou' in front of a mirror that my handiwork would become apparent. Then, I'd hear my name bellowed from the echoing space of the bathroom. Shortly afterward, I'd be confronted by an angry midget! "Stop writing on my ass!!!"

*psy*

I miss that.

Joy & Pain! Sunshine…and Rain!

Ugh! She just dipped a cookie in Lactaid! I'm genuinely appalled by that notion.

I trained Saturday. I didn't even feel like going to class. It was a nice, sunny day…but, my whole damned body was SORE. I just felt beat up. I went anyway.

I got beat up more. I got taken down twice and submitted once. I tend to fight down to the level of my competition. That whole cowboy ethic kicks in because I'm not really fighting. In a real fight, I'm trying to tear something off you and throw the piece on your laid out body. In training, what's the point of that?

Plus, I really want to learn technique. It isn't about being big & strong. Because, when I face somebody who is just as big and just as strong as I am (if not bigger and stronger), then, technique is what will make a difference. So, I consciously avoid 'overpowering' people to submit them. I tend to let people get holds and then using techniques and, sometimes speed, work to get out of them. In doing that, I get caught sometimes. I got caught three times, Saturday. But, (get this) I had a good time.

What is the point of saying "Armed Gunman"? Have you ever heard of an 'unarmed gunman'? *holds fingers in the classic gun pose* Check it in, fool!

It rained all day yesterday. It was that cold, penetrating rain. My bones hurt all day. I dragged my carcass to class, anyway. I got to the gym and we had to jump rope. That'll warm your bones. So, I was lightly toasted from jumping rope tripping over the rope for several minutes. Then, we learned were taught a move. Initially, I survived on sheer athleticism (and speed). I may not use all of my strength in training, but damn if I'm not using all of my speed. But, I'm beginning to remember some of my training and moves. I caught a dude in a triangle choke, last night. I also got three inverted guillotines and an ankle lock on other opponents. I didn't get submitted once.

Next class, I might get my ass royally kicked. Yesterday's class, though, was a success. Now, I just need to learn that pass he showed us.

How nerdy is an R2D2 ringtone? I guess it's better than taped glasses, a pocket protector and floods.

…and then?

I think that I have a thumbprint on my calf.

Everything between my clavicles and my waist is Under Construction.

My ex-wife told me today that my daughter is afraid of me. What kind of screwy bullshit is THAT? Every time I talk to this chick, I wish that I could go back in time to just before I proposed to her and slap the SHIT out of my younger self.

Anyway…

*lookin' @ my watch*

Any minute now, some chick is gonna tell me how I hate women.

*Thelma Evans-class eye roll*

Whutiver…yer wrong and I'm not arguing with you about it. I hate dumb women. If you're not a dumb woman, then I'm not talking to or about you.

*paradigm shift*

Ain't it great to be alive?

You see that dummy try to outrun the police and get tased today? FAIL!

Anyway…I have a lot on my mind, but little to say tonight.

Peace…

Crabbie Patties

Do we really have that crabs in a bucket mentality? Sheesh! Remember when I told you how brothaz do each other in class when they're a little advanced and know a couple things? They try to put you in a hold that hurts. Basically, they wanna make you look like a bitch. What's going on in their heads that they think this is necessary? I'm wondering if there's some subtle dynamic in the class that I'm missing that makes a brotha come roaring out of the blocks like that.

Now, before I dealt with all of this, I got called out by this Latino dude. I don't know why he called ME out, with 15 people standing there. But, he did. So, we rolled. He immediately went into a flurry of moves trying to submit me. I wasn't being mean or malicious, honestly. But, I bounced him all over that mat. Mostly working on the 'No' technique. I got a side mount. I went from a side mount to a full mount. That's pretty good. I'm pleased that I could do that.

Tonight, I rolled with three brothaz, a Latino and an Asian dude. I got caught in one armbar…but, that's because I couldn't do ANOTHER somersault. Yeah, me: All 76" and eighth of a ton of dark meat in class doing flips to get out of holds. So, anyway, new guy in class tonight…big brotha named Curtis. Curtis is strong as shit, too. But, I was showing him the basic guard and guard pass. He was burning a lot of energy trying to keep me in his guard. I told him, "At our size, you're going to burn energy a lot faster than these little dudes. Conserve energy."

So, then the other brotha comes over. He says, "We'll switch up." So, Curtis goes and sticks his neck out and gets triangle choked. I ain't tell him about that. I guess that was Lesson 2. So, then, I roll with the dude and he immediately started trying to put me in an armbar. I employed the 'No' technique to perfection. I looked up at Curtis and said, "He knows a lot of arm submissions." So, of course, dude switches over to leg submissions. I did three (count 'em: THREE) flips to get out of them. He looked at me with new respect after that.

I rolled with Tom today. Tom's Vietnamese and built like a fireplug. Every time that I've been honestly submitted and it wasn't fatigue, Tom's done it. He makes me sick. But, Tom's a cool dude. So, whatever. Tom started out in my guard, worked out of it, and blocked my armbar attempt. (My submissions SUCK!!!) I did two flips getting out of armbars by Tom. The last time, I was EXHAUSTED. I ended up tapping. So far, of all the fighters that I've faced, Tom's the only person that my 'No' technique just flat-out fails on. Of course, he has forearms like Popeye, no exaggeration. He grabs my wrist and it's like being in a vise…and I can't MAKE him let go. *smh* I'm subconsciously workin' on that one. 

Papa Klump to Mama Klump (after she kept passing out seeing Sherman's transformations: I ain't gon' keep PICKIN' yo' big ass up!

And, lastly, I rolled with this brotha named Joseph. Joseph worked hard. I was hard-pressed to keep him in my guard. I went for an armbar and that muhfukkah flipped me completely over. I kicked off the wall and got out of a submission. I narrowed my eyes. I said, 'How long have you been doing this?" He said that he'd only been in class a couple months. I had a psyqyq epiphany: But, you've wrestled, haven't you? He just grinned. I said, "I hate fighting wrestlers. It's like fighting a wet blanket." I almost got him in an iron cross.

All-in-all, I had a really good workout. The teacher gave me pounds. The arm that got caught in the armbar HURTS, though. I need a big booty cutie to sit on it and massage it with her asscheeks.

. o O ( Did I just say that out loud?!? )

Elephant Bullets

Remember the bull from Bugs Bunny?



Yeah…him.

Imagine him somehow were-morphed into human form. That's who I had to spar with tonight…

Now, imagine the were-bull tenderizing 250 pounds of raw steak…with Thor's hammer.

That was me…18 minutes on the mat with a minotaur, bay-beee!!!!

'member when I was all like, "I wanna spar with somebody MY size?" Fuck that! Gimme more skinny dudes. My shoulders and neck are BURNING, right now. That fool grabbed my head in both hands and freaking YANKED! Fortunately, I'm fast as a cobra. I hit the mat and skidded away like a hockey puck. (Hockey pucks are black, see?) Anyway, he grabbed my ankles and yanked. He grabbed my arms and yanked. He...sensing a theme here? I'm glad his ass was tired from training all day. Sheesh. Fighting him fresh would've been a nightmare!

The teacher said good training, though!

Your Lucky Star Isn’t

It is the 21^st Century. Scientists are working on quantum computers. That is: microscopic computers. Humans have gone to the moon and mapped the human genome. Despite the hate in their souls, white folks fuсked around and elected an African-American as President of the United States. So, you'd think that things were advancing, even if they weren't necessarily improving, right?

The people I know are not children. That is to say, they're grown muhfukkaz, right? How come, near the second decade of the 21^st Century, the people I know still believe in fuсking astrology. I mean: I could understand confusion about evolution. I can even get some of the weirder religious beliefs of some folks. But, for the life of me, I do not understand why Black folks CLING stubbornly to astrology. You know why so many people are born in mid-to-late September? Cuz, their parents got drunk on Christmas/New Years. How special is THAT star?

*smh*

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.

---

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.

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!

The Attraction of Attrition

The price of civilization is the proliferation of utter, fucking morons. You think many stupid people survived past puberty in Mongol society? or Incan? Newp. Slice!

But, America? This place is saturated with fools, morons, imbeciles and dumbfucks. Ugh! The gene pool needs chlorination. Reinstate the draft! Shit. See a particularly stupid muthafukkah? EOD training. And, then stand WAYYYYY back.

No, Jenkins!!! The blue wire! The blu-!

*boom*

...

NEXT!

People discount the attitudes on the internet because, well, "it's just the internet." But, that shit's indicative how muthafukkaz feel in the core of their soul. They feel little or no fear of reprisal, so they say the most fucked up shit they can imagine--li'l fraidy muhfuggaz who'd mumble quietly to their friends in the corner of the bar rather than swagger up to the object of their petty hatred with all that braggadocio. *smh* They're viciously stupid, but well-positioned to turn their venom onto YOU, soon.

You already know that I see politics as the machination used by people who cannot FIGHT to maintain order. It is a popularity contest for lemmings. Well, the cliff is coming up and Democrats, Republicans, Tea Partiers and Independents all think they know "The Way".

Bon Voyage, muthafukkaz!

Intelligent, independent thought remains at a premium.

Do you see it coming? The next presidential race will be brutally vicious. All of the issues in American society and politics have come home to roost under this presidency. This President has been called 'the worst President in American history' by one lemming. Another asked, 'What do you think about Obama building a mosque @ Ground Zero?'

Seriously, dude, what the fuck? Somebody told you that President Obama is building a mosque...and you believed them. *smh* You Sterno drinking, cousin groping moron...

While you're drinkin' Moscato, playing Farmville and learning how to Dougie, politics is NOT going on 'as usual'. It has, in fact, taken a turn for the worse. Polarize the (m)asses and you garner a wave of political support. They're stupid, but you can't tell them that they're stupid. Enter the Dragon Lady! She's enough of a MILF to stir the yokel's passions in more than one manner. Using carefully crafted speeches and rhetoric, conservatives have garnered a groundswell of support. The villagers, with their pitchforks and rakes, are going after the monster. The barons stand back and watch.

*smh*

Vicious li'l bitches...

The next Presidential election takes place the year after next. Do you honestly think your minority vote can counteract this well-placed, insidiously crafted attack, not just on the President, but on you? There could be consequences and repercussions if a Klansman calls you a 'nigger'. But, who ya gonna call if he smirks and calls you a "Liberal"? Ghostbusters? Insidiously crafted...

But, this is your game. I've yet to be convinced that masses of people are anything other than stupid. But, you think that 'every vote counts' and all that. This is your wake up call. You gonna figure this shit out? *whisper* Reinstate the draft!

Passing Guard

I didn't even WANT to go train tonight. But, I went anyway. It was frikkin' awesome!!!

I didn't get submitted once. Of course, there's no one really in my weight class. So: L on that. But, I got a double-leg takedown on Jesus! *smirk* Yeah! I got a single leg takedown on my other opponent, as well.

Honestly, I'm just glad they're tired by the time I get there. I'll have to get my gi soon to learn classic jiu jitsu.

But, yeah, Active Takedowns...I did quite nicely. I did get taken down once, though.

Then, we had to practice passing guard. OK, of the two people sparring/fighting, the person whose legs are on the outside is in control. If the guy on the bottom has his legs outside of the guy on the top, he's got the guard. If the guy on the top is sitting on the abdomen or chest with his legs outside of his opponent's, then he is in the mount position. So, I started out trying to pass the guard of my opponent, John. I passed his guard four times in five minutes. Awesome, man! Awesome!

Then, we switched positions and he was in my guard. For five straight minutes, I kept him from passing my guard ONCE. Goodness, I'm proud of that. I didn't know I could do that. I was almost to the point of wheezing, but I damned did it.

THEN, we rolled. Rolling is freestyle sparring in jiu jitsu. I was lightly toasted by then. I gotta get my cardio up, f'reals. I rolled with John first. He got a half guard on me and I could NOT get that leg free. I wanted an armbar. John is strong and compact though. I figured that, if I fully committed to it while in that half guard, he'd make me pay for it, somehow...some way. So, we ended in what I thought was a draw. John told me that I would have won on points. Cool!

Then, I rolled with Julio. I kept him in my guard for four minutes and by then I was exhausted. He passed my guard and got a side mount. But, I didn't let him make me submit. Yay, me!

I wanted to flip him over me onto his back. But, I was too tired to figure it out. I think I have a move figured out, now. Maybe, I'll try it another time.

Angel Dust

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

The Race Card

Omar Thornton took his guns to work in Connecticut and went out with bangs & a whimper. Do I believe that he suffered racist attitudes from coworkers? Well, I don't disbelieve it. Do I endorse the way he handled the situation? Naw. Not even close.

But, Yahoo's article gave a virtually anonymous forum for people to vent how they really feel. The sense of entitlement displayed is rather nauseating. Check out your neighbors & friends:

I used to be a pretty easy going person. Grew up with Black and Hispanic friends and we all got along. I was never a racist, events over the past few years have turned me towards the truth. The truth about the majority of black communities. You are the most hateful and racist of all the other communities in America. You lie, steal, cheat, kill off your own people, destroy your neighborhoods , act like fools in public and expect everything to be handed to you for free because you were once oppressed. You talk about Africa as the "Mother Land" with no idea of what it is even like there. We White folk are sick of your crap, sick of your arrogance and sick of the culture you have created to act as if you are the victim in every instance. The sooner we are rid of you all, the better off we will be as a nation.

Pcub

I flat out don't believe a word of it. "A noose with racist graffiti?"

This has become the "lie du jour" for blacks claiming to be the targets of "racism." They've become so used to getting their way, regardless of how absurd their allegations, they just keep recycling the same old nonsense. Kind of like the Jews with their "holocaust."

Tom Di Vecchioni

The unspoken truth about African-Americans is that today's African-Americans are the descendants of yesterday's slaves. Those slaves were bred like animals to be dumb field hands, not critical thinkers or leaders. They are descended from a limited gene pool that has more in common with livestock than mankind.

Black people the world over don't see themselves as related to African-Americans. Because they're not. African-Americans, as we know them, don't even exist in nature.

This is all science fact. Perhaps we stop with this PC nonsense and realize not everyone is created equal, especially when our American history books are filled with this "white elephant in the room" disclosure.

Tell me now, what's racist or incorrect about what I've said?

GMetesky

Blacks will never be taken seriously until they start pulling their own weight in society.

e

Another excuse from and excuse maker...no matter how stressed out you are normal people don't go killing other people ...he is a bigoted black man with an inferiority complex...look around its an epidemic in the African American community

phillysmart

He didn't SNAP, it was his nature. Same as them rioting and tearing up their own neighbor hood for the slightest reason.

 corri

Blacks are like co.ckroaches.....

Multiple like, well... co.ckroaches ....and infest everything they come in contact with.

Theone Two

The blacks dont care about the facts, so don't waste your breath

dave 

01110000 01110011 01111001

There are people that cannot live comfortably without codifying every nuance of their existence. I am a big proponent of living and letting live. So, if a person has this sort of personality, then fine. Be who you are. BUT, this obsession with defining the motive behind every action of MINE; this drive to 'figure me out', will more than likely just annoy me.

A great many people take 'shortcuts' in thought. That's partially what memory is. Analogously, you don't have to relearn things because you remember that 'B' follows 'A'. As long as that pattern is true, then that 'shortcut' of thought is efficient. Quite a few people rarely take the time to determine whether their familiar pattern of thought is even appropriate to new situations they encounter. Rather than change the way they think to match the new pattern presented, these people continue to try hammering round pegs into square holes. To be fair, we ALL have blind spots. That's one of the conditions of imperfection. But, some folks take their blind spots to the extreme.

I've been told by a few people that, "You seem like you date White girls." *smh* That's a bullshitty, binary-assed equation, as if:

1 = White women & 0 = my fist

News Flash: I do like White women. Here's the key, though: Just because I like one thing does not mean I dislike its alternatives. I also like Brown, Mocha, Caramel and (Haha) Fudge colored women. Yella girls and red girls are cute to me as well, even if they're a li'l narrow across the beam for my tastes. Don't try to pigeonhole me in that spot in your intentionally narrowed perceptions just so that you can feel comfortable dealing with me. Just leave me alone if that's beyond your present capabilities.

---

Y'know, at this age, a lot of people are trying to get resettled in some sort of well-defined relationship, if for no other reason than to be able to describe it to their friends. I, personally, am DATING. I married a woman when I was 21 years old with the expectation of being with her for the next few billion years. If you know me, you'll realize that I am not engaging in hyperbole when I say that. That whole marriage thing blew up in my face like a one of Wile E. Coyote's traps. 2008 was the end of that. So, now, why the hell would you think that I'd want to jump into something else only two years later?

To be fair, after nearly 20 years (droll when compared to that whole 'billions' thing, I know), I got acclimated to captivity. I wanted that sense of confinement. Open the cage door on a tiger who's been cooped up for that length of time and watch how he looks back @ the cage door when you drag him out. So, I flailed about seeking the limits to this new situation. But, after two years of not having to worry who I talk to about what, after two years of doing what the fuck I wanna do because I wanna do it; do you really think I'm 'bout to rush back into the captivity of somebody ELSE's expectations?

Mmmmmno.

...and, no. I'm not talking about you. This is introspection and clearing my head. But, if you feel you need to deal with me in a 'certain way' based on what you've read, then I understand.

Hellbound

I just put Jesus in an armbar and submitted him.

You know...Jesus...my Mexican training partner. What'd you think I meant?

It was SWEET, though. I got there and got segregated...like a goat from the sheep. Everyone else was in their traditional 'gi'. On the other hand, there was me. No gi. Me and two other dudes. I feel like a bully, though...like Butch from The Little Rascals. ("Say! When's the last time we beat you up!""*Gulp* Yesterday..." "Then, yer DUE! *WHAM!*") They're not in my weight class. Although, the smaller dude was a lot more experienced in jiu jitsu. After this competition, my instructor's gonna make me pay. I can feel him assessing me from across the mat.

I told you what my technique is. Any four-year-old can do it. 'You wanna do what to me? No.' They grab my arm. I take my arm back. They pull. I make 'em let go and fall down. The difference is: I make it look like (Whooo!) "t-e-c-h-n-i-q-u-e". LoL...you gotta say 'technique' with a French accent, too.

Yeah, I know. My teacher's gonna beat me up. I see it coming. Imma jump up like that fool in Whiteboys after he got stomped like, "Am I in?!?"

Anyway, I just realized that Jesus looked at me when he told me his name expecting me to smirk. I must be growing up. (I offer a pre-"fuck you" for that "'bout time!" that you just thought.) He asked me if I'd ever rolled before. I nodded, then we were off. He immediately put me in his guard. I passed his guard and went to a side mount. He refused to let me choke him like I planned. (I know. Right? The nerve...) Imma get me a gottdammed guillotine on somebody, I swear. My daughter is NOT gonna be the only person in the family to choke out two (count them: 1, 2) dudes with a guillotine choke, dammit! To be fair, the dudes I spar with have heads like frozen turkeys...but, that's besides the point.

What was my point?

Oh, yeah! So, anyway...couldn't get the choke in the side mount. Jesus rolled onto his knees. So, I tried another choke. Jesus tried to flip me. I dispassionately refused to flip. He landed on his back and I was in the full mount. Grabbed his elbow, put him in an armbar. I submitted Jesus. I win.

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 Got an Owie!

I just realized that I aggravated the mat burn on my left, big toe. Cherry red where there's no skin. It doesn't even hurt, but I need some liquid bandage for it...or some shellack.

I did the full warm up, today (running, tumbling, the whole nine). When I left the gym, my shirt was soaked. It was torn, too. So, much for Izod. It used to fit snugger than it does, now. I submitted a guy cuz I got him in a hold and he couldn't breathe because my shirt was so wet. I guess I used a 'gi' move on him. I'll need to get some UnderArmor, I guess. I'm not bad, but Ion't think my body is ready to be displayed like that, yet. Gimme six weeks at this pace, though.

There was a kid rolling today...11 years old. I felt all paternalistic toward him. I showed him how to do a single leg takedown.  (Damn! My nose was bleeding. I did not realize that til I just blew it.) The kid has a good grasp of technique.

There was another brotha there who goes by 'King'. Um...ok. He's a boxer. His arms were very defined and strong. I tell you this not in admiration or anything. It's just that different disciplines have different strong suits. Throwing 10 & 12-ounce gloves around constantly is going to make your arms and shoulders strong.  I submitted him once, but mainly I showed him a couple things, and gave him my basic philosophy: When a guy is moving your arm or leg a certain way or maneuvering you a certain way, don't let him. Cuz, he's gonna do something next that's usually REALLY gonna hurt. So, when he pulls your arm, take your arm back. This was King's second class in this discipline. He seemed to appreciate what I showed him.

I sparred with Pedro, again. Sparring with Pedro is tiring. He's very strong and he's always trying to do something to you that's gonna hurt...a lot. So, I spent a bit of time reversing holds and passing his guard and trying my damnedest not to get the shit choked out of me (literally...that'd be VERY embarrassing).

That brings to mind my last class. One guy asked an instructor, "If a guy shits himself and quits, does that count as a submission." The instructor said, "No...but, if you shit yourself and your opponent doesn't want to continue, then THAT's a submission." LoL...fighter humor.

Anyway, Pedro told me that our instructor TOLD him to wear me out today. It seems that I've already gotten a reputation for being 'big & strong' and this was my second class at this gym. Well, I have to admit it: I gassed. I tapped and I wasn't even in a hold. I was just fucking T-I-R-E-D. Six minute rounds and this was the third? Yeah, the new guy was spent. I'm going to get better, though. Trust me on that.

Anyway, I got it together and then fought one of the 'gi' fighters. See, there's 'gi', traditional jiu jitsu with the belt and the robe (see pic above). Then, there's 'no gi'. (pic right) Gi is a lot more traditional, as you might imagine. 'No gi' might seem like wrasslin', but it like many martial arts is very scientific in its approach to anatomy and specialized forms of personal mayhem.

I'm having a BLAST. Now, to find some liquid bandage.

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

Mat burn on both big toes, I'm coughing up 4.5 years of phlegm and wheezing like an asthmatic beatboxer who can't find his inhaler. My shoulders feeling like they've been put in a blender on PUREE and then patted back into place. My ass feels like it's going to cramp from jumping rope for minutes at a time. A tattooed Latino is looming over me flexing his fingers and putting both of his hands on my throat to choke me.

And to think: I wanted to do this.

...the fuck?!?

Yeah, I'm back in jiu jitsu. I freaking LOVE this. How come I jump rope better than the Brazilian chicks? (THAT was distracting, by the way. I tripped over the rope a couple/few times trying to NOT watch the jigglage. Eventually, I had to turn and face the wall.) That's another indicator that I'm serious about this stuff. There was a chick fight with Brazilian chicks, no less, going on mere feet from me. (The girls sparred.) I didn't even stop to watch.

I'm so machoor!!! ←← LOL@that

On the plus side, before I gas, I move very quickly for my size. My sparring partner didn't believe that I weigh 253 lbs. Let me lose the 25 like I want. [white girl voice]Oh...my...god! Ohmigawd![/white girl voice]

But, for real, there is more room for improvement than you can imagine. I could not sink a guillotine on that smooth, bald head. My cardio is ass. But, Imma fix THAT.

Can somebody go to Sam's Club and get me one of those Tub o' Ibuprofen bottles, please! Thank you in advance!

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!

Crash and...BURN

Ever feel like you're actually at the point where you'll break if something else doesn't give? I screech up to that precipice at nearly full speed and then brake. It isn't a game of chicken. It's that I don't realize how close I am to that precipice until I'm right up on it.

Shoes smokin' like Frederick P. Flintstone's feet...



Dating...

Y'all been doin' this shit all these years? No wonder half of y'all are completely fucking nuts. Shit. Everybody's looking for The One, while they're hangin' out with The Few; but talkin' shit to the many. The fear is palpable. I can smell it...like a schmear on the bottom of my shoe ill-gotten by stepping on an shitty, unseen Pamper left out in the Georgia sun for the six hottest hours of the day. She's thinking, "If I give one mo' muthafukkah a piece of my heart and he breaks it, it might drive me insane." But, she'll never say it. He's thinking, "If I go out with another chick portraying herself like she's a lady, but she's actually crazy as fuck..."

More later, maybe. I just dozed.

A Return to Chill Civility

No...it's not ABOUT sex. I'm in Atlanta. Look up the ratio of women to purely heterosexual men. Then, factor in 6'4"…240#...employed...reasonably nice looking...intelligent. If it was just about ASS, chances are: I wouldn't be tryna holla @ YOU.
 
It's about companionship. But, I think I get it. I think I realize what I need to do.
 
This should be interesting.
 

---

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
 
The catharsis of "closure" is, more often than not, a selfish need to vent at someone who did not take the course of action that YOU preferred. It is the adult equivalent to a temper tantrum...a hissy fit, if you will. The desired outcome of 'closure' is that the other party/parties know exactly why YOU are dissatisfied.
 
Meh! I just watched a 40-year-old woman throw a complete, fucking hissy fit in her lame attempt to get closure. It highlighted just how petty she actually is. Well, hopefully she got the emotional stabilization she so desperately needed out of that.
 
*smh*
 
This is one reason why I just STOP talking at a certain point. Communication has failed. The other person has already decided in her own mind what the state of reality currently is, normally based on her own mental state, without consulting mine and declared this is the way it is. I get annoyed because I see & know the things that she's failed to consider, but rather than ASK, she declares that 'this is how things are'. So…fine! That's how things are. I withdraw. Then, she gets upset because I didn't respond and argue with her about the shit. So, I put those things she ignored/didn't see in front of her and then she feels silly!
 
Monkeyshines…


Anyway, lemme do some more work.

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.

---

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.

Irritable

Personal success does not mean that you're not a fucked up individual.

---

How many times have you seen a MAINSTREAM commercial that had five black guys and one white guy and it wasn't about a basketball team? But watch a beer commercial and they always include ONE black dude! So, if you have ONE black dude in your clique, then you must be doing ok, right? Consider, though, that you have never seen the ratio inverted in a commercial for something enjoyable. Folks will immediately roll their eyes and figure, "Oh, lord! Here we go! Another rant about racism! GET OVER IT!!! Your people are not slaves, now!" That reaction proves my point, though.

I was looking at MSNBC perforce, today. One of the plasma displays in the lobby is set to play that channel. I'm looking at how Black folks are represented in the mainstream media. It is all conditioning for the simpleminded and reinforces the stratification and status quo of our society. MSNBC is considered "liberal" media. If so, they're a worse offender even than FOX News. Fox is, at least, blatant about their bigotry. MSNBC discusses money and politics. The imagery they present is subtle. The authorities, sources and personalities they present on what is viewed as important are overwhelmingly White. The advertising for financial information is represented by an overwhelming White base of actors. Diversity is filled by a minority woman, killing two birds with one stone.

But, when something viewed as NEGATIVE is addressed, the imagery that you see is accompanied by Black Male faces.

'Jobless claims rose 2.43% last quarter. *Videos of Black men filling out paperwork in the unemployment office play*'

'The President's Healthcare Initiative hit another snag today! *A Black representative is interviewed who dutifully mentions marching with Martan Loofa Kang*'

...and, you dumb muthafukkaz fall for the okey doke, too.

You're being managed and conditioned by the things you're shown. And, you think this is the 'natural' order of things.

Original thought remains at a premium. Ugh!

Does this mean that minority people are some paragons of virtue and intellect? Hell, naw! What it means is: you need to start learning to think for yourself, you lemming! You might even want to consider NOT patronizing these media outlets who perpetuate these stereotypes.

To be fair, I can't speak a lick of Spanish that isn't profane, so I don't know how reputable Spanish news sources are. But, Black News is ass! Two bomb threats in a week in New York and the headlines on BlackPlanet are:

• Is Toyota Mocking Hip-Hop's "Swagger"?
• LisaRaye's 3 Tips For Single Mothers
• Caption This: What Is Rick Ross Trying To Say In This Photo?
• 5 Reasons J Lo Is Going From GIANT To Medium

Way down the page, you see:

Hot News

• Paper Depicts Obama As Character From "Sanford And Son"
• Police Shoot Man's Dogs In Marijuana Raid With Children Present
• Black Tea Partier Says "Uncle Tom Was A Hero"
• Jon Stewart Pokes Fun At Roland Martin's Ascot
• Man Says Woman Stabbed Him With Scissors Over Bad Sex
• School District Defends Blacks Only Field Trip
• P. Diddy's Sean John Gets Exclusive Deal With Macy's
• Europe Faces Pressure To Pay Slavery Reparations
• Swift Arrest Of Bombing Suspect A Rare Win For Embattled Holder
• Evidence Mounts For Taliban Involvement In Times Square Bombing
• President Of Nigeria Dies After Long Illness
• Higher Percentage Of Blacks Than Whites On Twitter
• Washington Times Times Says Term "Teabagger" Is Like N-Word
• Why Is The Jamaican Prime Minister Protecting A Reputed Criminal?
• Black Leaders Urge Indictments Of Police In Teen's Alleged Beating
• Sharpton And Phoenix Mayor To Lead March Against Immigration Law

*smh* I don't even know who I should kick into a stupor to stop that shit, either.

---

They found a suspicious package in a cooler in front of a hotel in Times Square. Somebody's lunch is about to get detonated.

Oh...and the Times Square terrorist is about as much of a terrorist as The Shoe Bomber. Some weirdo goes looking for Al Qaeda training and Al Qaeda giggles behind its hand. "You want to blow up what? Ok, my friend, here's how you make a bomb! Yes, yes! 72 virgins! Remember connect the red wire here! A salaam alaikum! You know, we have this new underwear bomb! Go and show The Great Shaitan the power of Jihad!!!" Then, they send the idiot on his merry way. They've lost nothing but the time it takes to show that moron the basics.

That fool is in there singing like a canary, too...and ain't sayin' shit. They let him pee on himself once and made him sit in it. Now, he done gave them every bit of information he's learned since he was eight years old. *smh* Terrorist, my ass!

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!

---

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.

---

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.

Where's Johny Sabatino?

Close your eyes and listen to this song ("Where's Johny Sabatino?"). You'll hear this...quiet desperation. He's not screaming...yet. But, his nerve is about to fail. He's at the end of his rope.

That's how I feel, right now.

There's a yawning chasm beneath me. Before I splatter all over when I hit bottom, there are lightning-fast monsters waiting to take chunks of my flesh. The rope that I'm holding onto is fraying and my strength is flagging. I'm trying. But, I can't get higher.

* * * * * * * * * *
I gotta get out.
I can't stay here.
* * * * * * * * * *

And, people have a morbid fascination with a person at the end of their rope. They stand just out of reach and yell helpful shit like, "Hold on!" (or, "Jump!")

Fuckers.

The horror in this for me is that every time I think I see a ray of hope...a hand reaching from the darkness to steady me...I come to realize that the issue is my fluctuating perceptions. The problem is what I think I see rather than the actuality of the situation. The hand reaching out of the darkness is somebody flailing about blindly on their own rope. The hand recoils swiftly lest I dislodge its owner into the abyss below. The thought doesn't occur to the owner of that hand that we could possibly help each other until after she slashes my grasping hand...or, worse yet, simply ignores me.

Beneath me, the monsters with quicksilver reflexes and razor-sharp smiles await with unblinking eyes. The logos of my creditors are branded on their sides. Only predators smile, after all.

* * * * * * * * * *
I gotta get out.
I can't stay here.
* * * * * * * * * *