My Nephew Needs His Ass Beat

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="274" caption="Yo, I'll Fuckin', I'll Fuckin'...."][/caption]

With a spiked bat by Raekwon the Chef. I swear it seems like that's the only way to get through to him. Yea I was a teenager too, but he's not using his brain at all.

Firstly, he's a freshman when he should be a sophomore (he flunked eight grade once) and failing all of his classes as I type this. Claims that every single one of his teachers is out to get him. Well, if you would come home do your homework instead of yapping your gums on the phone and memorizing every Weezy lyric teacher wouldn't have a reason to be on your ass.

Why has he been walking around in flip flops since September? He'd rather wear some Air Farce 1s or some Air Gorton's than just buy a fresh pair of kicks for the money his dad gave him. What makes it worse is he gave the money to someone who's uncle is the "shoeman" a few weeks ago. Still no sneaks, fake or otherwise.

I don't understand what it is he's trying to accomplish. Is he trying to be the worlds oldest freshman? Hell flunking once would be enough for me to learn that education is important. It's painful to watch him slowly throw opportunities away. I pray that he's not doing this just to be down. I'm sure when he's not around they're shitting on him for wearing flip flops and it's damn near October.

I'm almost content to say fuck it and let him fall on his own, but I can't...

Don't Don't Don't....

I'm alright with myself.

No I'm NOT alright with myself.

I'm alright with parts, but the rest I don't feel comfortable with. Nowhere near. I'm making moves to change those things, but maybe I'll feel this way no matter what I look like.

Maybe I need a consultant or something. Any volunteers?

On another note, some people should not have children:

Father says boy who shot self at Westfield Sportsman\'s Club had permission to use machine gun

Rules of Engagement

One of the first things I'm quick to admit about myself is that I'm overly cautious. This tip toeing has bled into everything I do. Some aspects aren't affected as much, other parts this blemish can been seen clear as day. Dealing with women especially, but mostly in approaching them.

I'm going to let you in on a little secret, my brain is always busy (surprise!) but that's not a good thing in this case it doesn't allow room for instinct. I feel like fucking Robocop: All this analysis and dumb ass rules.

The ill thing about it is I really don't have any sort or reasoning for these rules. I use being polite and considerate as an excuse, but it's bullshit. I'm just a pussy lol.

I'm learning to walk all over again. After years of being out of the wilderness that is being single. Rehab is going to be painful, there will be frustration no doubt. In the end I will be better than before. Without fear, without silly ass rules and reasonings.

I've had this song on repeat for the past two weeks.

\"Sweeter than You by The Foreign Exchange\"

Oh Noess!!!111 Secks Poast Ahead!?!

I know what you're thinking: "Oh a guy doing a blog entry about sex, what a surprise /sarcasm.

As many of my entries my train of thought we derail then get back on track, but the subject will stay true. Just a few ideas/lustful thoughts/pondering I've had on my bird the past few days. Trust me, keep reading you won't be disappointed.

My MP3 player has been out of commission for the past two weeks. It's been painful, in a hopes to find something worth listening to. I've been streaming mixtapes from http://www.datpiff.com I decided to listen to some slow jam mixes, and um...wow....wtf are some of these saingers thinking? *Hater powers activate* Everything is lacking. The songwriting/lyrics are lame, sounds like some bullshit game you'd try and spit at the club. How freaky you can get, how long blah blah blah blah blah blah...*yawn.* The shit don't even sound like something special you know? Them shits aint slow jams, it's music to get the jumpoff you met at the club to fuck. *hater powers off.*



Why are we so afraid of sex as a society? Seriously. Growing up, I wasn't supposed to ask about it, talk about it or watch the movies my dad had under the bed. I didn't get the birds and bees talk from my parents, it came from a medical encyclopedia (nerd!) I've pondered what I've inquired in my beginning statement. The shit always fascinated me to know how my body worked. I won't go into any details on that *ugh.* I say the world would be a better place is more people were getting laid. That being sexually repressed shit is for the birds.

A question for the ladies. Why is such a big deal placed on size? I mean is it a challenge? A feather in the cap to say you handled this many inches? Is it like climbing Everest, or swimming the English Channel?? By no means am I coming up short, but some of you want us to be hung like horses. In addition, fellas stop lying on/about your junk just to get in the door. And please please please PLEASE, stop being lazy!!! You too ladies!

P.S. Stop saying that you do not do a certain act, then when it's time to get down you're doing what you just said you don't. It's not really necessary to play to good guy/girl role, and you know you get down how you get down. No need to B.S. me or yourself. If you like it a certain way, I won't think any less of you. That leads me to the whole male/female hoe double standard. That shit needed to be deaded ten minutes ago. We're all adults, right?

When did my lips become so sexy? I've been getting a lot of comments about them lately. I dunno they're just my lips. Why can't a big brother get a break? If I was a few pounds lighter, I would have to fight y'all off with a got damn stick lol. Fuggit, I'm still sexy.

I was going to talk about porn, but I think that one will need it's own entry....and I don't have time for that now.

One last question ladies. I've heard a saying that a woman knows whether or not they will sleep with a guy within the first few moments of meeting him. Is that actually true?

Can't Live Without It

my frazy music, movies and books!

Music. I am so grateful for music. Not just one particular genre or artist, but everything. I thought about this today on my commute to work. I've gone about a week without my MP3 player, and the sounds of the city aren't pleasant to my ears. I appreciate that I can just put on my headphones and pretty much tune out all the bull around me. And when you hear that ONE song. You know what I'm talking about. Where that first beat drops, and whatever is going on around you doesn't even matter. Your walk changes to a slight strut, your head is nodding and you've started singing along to the lyrics. It sets the tone for the rest of the day. Nothing can bring you down.

Then there are those other times, times when you may be going through a rough spot in life. Then that one song you forgot about pops on, and it mirrors whatever you're suffering through. Reaching your soul through the wire, on the same frequency helping you cope. It is indeed Sonic therapy.

Music has been instrumental in my life (pun.) I couldn't fathom where I'd be in life without it. It's powerful, it's inspiring, it's a comforter and a friend.

Thanks again music.

I'm Insecure, But I Can't Help It (c) E. Badu

Yes I can help it. It's just hard as hell to turn off.

I've become so secure in my insecurities (c) Vast Aire, they've seeped into everything I do. How I think, how I interact with people. All that shit. I want off this ride, but I have no clue how the lap bar works. However, I do know how this whirling dervish vomit inducing ride was created for the impossible...

I want to be liked by everyone. It's a fickle mission I know, Leonaidas type L's abound. Doesn't stop me from trying, doesn't stop me from hurting either when it fails. I've always got the feeling that I'm being put under the microscope, by every single person I come into contact with. Looking to find one strand out of place so they can whisper and laugh under their breath. I know it sounds crazy...One minute I can feel like the baddest muthafucka on the world (c) Juggernaut and one questionable glance can crumble my whole world....

I give these people too much power. I have to stop...Be the shit no matter how I think I'm being scrutinized. I need indelible swagger, fuck it, I have indelible swagger! Ask about me lol!

Now that bridge has been crossed....

If you haven't already, go pick up Little Brother's "Getback." The album is fucking dope! This, along with Common and Kanye's album plus a lot of goodness bubbling under the surface, hip hop is definitely not dead.

It's been a few weeks since my Uncle David passed away. I read this piece at his memorial two weeks ago. Thought I would share it here. For whoever may be going through a loss...

I decided to write a psalm today.

Psalms like David. A psalm for David.

A song for us for we do not mourn today.

Neither do we moan in lamentable tones at the same time crying rivers and if you are build a bridge over to join us in this celebration.

Please I implore you check your anguish while I speak in the sweetest language I can stomach to describe this man's zeal for living.

Desiring to see what life had to offer. So in turn I offer up words and that the tiniest of echoes will travel above the clouds

with me standing below heavens hoping you smile.

Matter of fact the sun seemed brighter today.

Now it's okay to take a trip on memory lane Taking in the sights and sounds on a leisurely stroll.

But I'm sure uncle would say don't make it your home.

Cause it's a nice place to visit but it's too much life to live and while we dwell in the past, neglect the present as a present then our future becomes a declaration of what could have been.

It is what we make it after all.

We can't only come together when one of ours falls

We shouldn't let the family fabric unravel after we have spoken words of jubilation to our brother friend uncle and husband.

I admit, I had some problems getting these words down, how could I in a few stanzas stand here and speak about the lives he touched?

It would take even more verses standing at this podium nervous to somehow speak how all these people loved him so much. Could any song communicate that he would be missed I sat and pondered this thought, so much so, writers block became the Earth and I Atlas.
Then the answer hit me.
I wouldn't have to.
You see he hears us, sees what we're doing today tears of joy as pouring rain if you haven't made that claim rest assured we'll see him soon again. Without the worlds worry without the daily grind the rat race forgotten, left the cheese behind, sitting forever in paradise.
And that���s why I won���t cry, because this won���t be our final goodbye.
Besides, I know he���s in good hands....
Your hands....
This is My Prayer. This is My Song. This is My Love.
See you soon.

On A Lighter Note

I thought my Chicago people would get a kick out of this. I did.