keeping up with jones

so i was tweeting the other day asking where in the hell my w2's were.
well i'll be a sonofabxtch 'cause they are here!
god delivered them to my job & i need to go pick them up.
i feel like putting on some naughty by nature and waving my hands in the air like i just don't care (or give a fxck).
but i'll just pick them up and file them. woo!
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okay okay okay.
before you read any further, i must write this disclaimer:

disclaimer: if you are one of those sensitive devout christians, please do not go further because you may leave this page crying, wishing to sell me out like judas. and my feelings will remain in tact.

so...does god have a sense of humor? i sure hope so.







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i'm sitting back and thinking about two relationships i had with christian women.
things began getting a little out of control as they began to find more and more pieces of jesus(hay-zoos).
so we sat down and talked.
long conversation short, they both used the words: "unequally yoked."
and we were no longer together.

and i understood that. i understood what it meant, and why some people followed that theory.
what i did not understand was why these women said it.
i mean, get the fxck outta here with that bullshxt.
if you're going to employ this type of thinking, it needs to be reflective in all of your life: love, friends, all relationships!!
these chicks hung around whores who thought nothing of fxcking in porta-potties. they stood beside women with esteem to match the gas tank on the 87 grand marquis i had. EMPTY.

so i grabbed the bible:

"Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness?"

and although i would think nothing of moving this book from the religious section to the fiction section in barnes & noble, i do respect that they follow it, however, not as much as they should.

when a woman of righteousness is the only righteous wanderer among five heathens, what should happen? do they get equally dismissed?

oh well.

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side note: do not be afraid to die only. be afraid to die with nothing to show for your life.

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side note: brag as much as you want if you earned it. fxck those with sensitive feelings that sit on couches hoping everyone is as lazy as they are.

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fella's tip for the day: surprise her with a letter: (steal this one if she doesn't read my blog):

dear beautiful (first amongst equals):

today i will tell you you're beautiful in case no one else ever has.
i've imagined you before all this. before the breakfasts i've cooked us and the bus trips north.
it was purely a matter of daydreaming, nothing more - so i brushed it off.
but they occur at night now - smiling in your face. they've become true stories.

let us trip to places most are afraid to go.
places only our fingertips and one plane can reach.
let's turn 1000 miles into a few blocks.

i don't want to show up at the departure door without you anymore.
ok?

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poem: the housewife she became:

he turned her into a housewife
she spent hours cleaning the blood from her panties
the floors and dishes never had seconds
the rule had been set in place for reasons
they kept her eggs from being fertilized

we don't need no mo' immaculate conceptions

she had already pulled one dead rabbit from a hat left hanging from her knob
but couldn't tell if it belonged to tom dick or harry - the tricks and the johns
the hats - not the rabits
and any new rabbits would need owners

he turned her into a housewife
and birthed babies who'd never love men right
daughters who'd pray sons stretched forth so they wouldn't be raised the same
daughters who'd forgive her for not teaching them to recognize bullshit men
and one daughter who'd fogive her for not always being a housewife

she's been a housewife so long she's taught herself to tend to things
and every now and then she tends to forget her past life belongs to jezebel

and there's nobody to blame but him

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so i keep a tablet beside my bed so i can write down the list of folks i hope are killed or removed from the business before they produce anything to further dumb down the masses.
and as many of you know, Soulja Boy Tell 'Em is on the list.
if i ruled the world, the population would be well controlled.
it sort of began with this 2008 interview with Toure:

"Then came Soulja Boy Tell Em. I asked him, “What historical figure do you most hate?” He was stumped. I said, "Others have said Hitler, bin Laden, the slave masters..." He said, "Oh wait! Hold up! Shout out to the slave masters! Without them we'd still be in Africa.

My jaw, at this point, was on the ground. "We wouldn't be here," he continued, having no idea how far in it he'd stepped, "to get this ice and tattoos."

now...
usually i would write my thoughts here about this ignorant son-of-a-syphillitic whore...
but i won't.
i will let you all comment on it.

you all who dance to his music.
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so what i'm saying is this: the problem with today's youth is they weren't raised on fried spam sandwiches like my generation was.

fantasy is what people want - but reality is what they need. i'm retiring from the fantasy world soon. (inspired by lh)
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so i've been sitting back relaxing, drinking grapefruit juice, eating oodles of noodles, staying clean and reading the newspaper.
apparently the earthquake of haiti has opened up the old auction blocks i thought had finally closed down.
#wrong.

the earthquake isn't even a few days old and the great white hopes are already stepping in and bidding on the children with the good bone structures and pretty teeth. way to go. i'm not too shocked. and while i do agree that these kids are probably headed to a lifestyle many dream of, this may not be the best thing. it could actually cause more harm. and what if these children aren't orphans at all. what if they're being sold by the shady ones? the untrusted ones? damn.

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so my brother @pnoty and his love of many years held on to god's unchanging hand and tied that knot this past saturday. way to go. she became ms. sills and we became the group of guys he may not be able to kick it with too much any more. lol. see how that works? hahaha.




and we attempted to send him out properly, but between the strippers, bottles of expensive liquor, phones being dead and stolen, and searching for cocaine, x and other illicit drugs, i'm not sure if we succeeded. but we did have a good time.

and yes, i said stolen phone (in case you really gave a shxt).
suspects description:
white woman - late 20's - trailer trash blonde hair - 5'6" - kswiss shoes.


and as i filed the report with the police, i was quickly reminded where i was: racist florida.
it didn't take 5 police cars and 8 cops to find out about a missing cell phone.
nor did they have to run my social security number.
you should have seen the look on their face when they found out i was a victim.
wow.
fuck all florida cops...(except those who are friends + their mom -shoutout to @ladyneuro)

and when i find the suspect - i'm going to do her like ol' boy did on TAKEN.
"good luck"

note: if i had naked pictures of you in my phone - i pray your face wasn't attached. hahahaha.
O_o

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ladies & gentlemen: introducing: The Clone




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brushing off my howard university sweatpants, i realize that i make this life look too easy.
i mean, don't get me wrong: my life is fxcking awesome. but...that's really because i make it look this way.
you never see photos of the bad days.
you never see the decisions i often have to make that could make shxt more difficult.
you weren't there when the blood - sweat and tears were left on the wall.
so i gotta show you now:




but those days are few and far between. so don't expect pictures of the bad days often. just once in a blue when the money is low & the rent is due. and the hustles seem impossible.

side note: difficult takes a hour. impossible takes a day.

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side question: how soon after katrina did the new orleans jokes start?

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i think we should punch all the teachers who tell their students: "i won't take off points for incorrect spelling."
they're the reason i have to read tweets and blogs and papers that piss me off at the american system of learning.
fxck!!!

Stop Rewarding Mediocrity

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i was having a conversation with one of my circles of friends about the old college days and the crazy things we used to do. and we somehow got on the subject of trains. not the choo-choos.
and one of the women of the women at the table asked:

"well, what do you think the girls are thinking now - years later?"

they're not thinking anything.
they didn't see it as being a whore. they saw college as the "doing me" chapter of their life.
or that one night of being a freak.
and when the story gets told to their best friends (bff's), they'll call it a threesome and forget about the other 5 dudes present.
they'll forget about the face masks they opted to wear at the climax of the night.

then they become school teachers, mothers & grandmothers themselves, and we smile at them during homecoming, shaking their husband's hand saying:

"that's a good woman you got there."

and we smile.

yeah - i miss college.

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and right now i'm in west palm beach.
not looking forward to that security gate tomorrow.
it's where we part. it's where we leave a few things.

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i end with this:
if ever {body] in your clique is rich - your clique is rugged.
nobody would fall 'cause everyone would be each others' crutches.

see-
what had happened was i've been trying to write for the last few days.
something entertaining. a few jokes for shxts and giggles for you folks, but that proves difficult when the brain is cluttered with images of children flattened by structures meant to last.

and truthfully -
my mind has been cluttered for years.
yeah, this week we mourn for haiti. next week we celebrate birthdays and football games forgetting the troubles of the world.
but some of us hold on to those troubles like old tshirts that still feel good against our backs.

no one is crying for diallo - mumia - louima - sean bell - tyisha miller - bobby hutton - darfur - the original blacks of south africa anymore. no one is crying any longer.

south sudan must have known such sundays.
so there will be no laughs - shxts or giggles.
just real shxt.

dear god:
please lighten the load this one time.















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