Sunday, December 31, 2006

So, I am here in Newark, NJ, hanging with a friend of mine, sipping on some wine concoction that she's hooked up and I am feeling nice right about now. real nice. this is most likely the last journal/blog entry I will bless myself and you all with this year. I would like to thank each and every one of you for reading and supporting this blog. I REALLY appreciate you all appreciated my writing and my life..well most of my life. Some of it I keep secret, but I vow to be more revealing in the new year. My other resolutions?

1) To get healthy
2)to get these braces off....again
3)to finally get new glasses
4)to stay consistent with my personal trainer (yes arminta, i vow to do this)
5)to have better sex

I'm sure I'll add to this list, but right now that is it.
So again, thank you. good night and good luck

Oh and by the way, that bullshit about whoever you spend New Year's Eve with is how your year will go, is extreme bullshit. Last year, i spent New Year's Eve with my boys Kevin and cliff, drinking scotch, and smoking cigars...and that had nothing to do with my year..


Friday, December 29, 2006

Right as I sat down to write this entry, I burned my tongue on some Caramel Apple Cider..what the hell kind of omen is that?

Anyway, I don't understand the concept of going to watch someone lie in state. Yesterday thousands of people went to see James Brown lie in state at the Apollo Theatre, and sometime in the next few days even more people will gather in Washington D.C. to see Gerald Ford lie in a casket. I frankly find the whole thing to be creepy. That's no knock on either one of these great men, because what they did during their time on this earth, is legendary. Not only that, there is a certain amount of respect that is attached with the tradition of lying in state. I just don't like it. When my grandmother passed a couple of years ago, there was a viewing of the body, and the whole thing made me uncomfortable. For one, I remember my grandmother as a vibrant woman who cooked, went to church and was full of energy. But I rarely saw her still, so to see her dead body sitting there wasn't doing jack for father either for that matter. Plus, during the funeral, I kept thinking when someone she didn't really care for walked by the body, she would jump up, grab them, and thrash them to the ground like a wrestler, and then calmly get back in the casket. To remove the threat of such an atrocity, I think closed caskets, and no body viewings are the way to go..

Since I've been at this job in March, I've seen this one homeless man mostly every day around my building. He looks like he could be in his 50s, he rocks the George Jefferson haircut, he walks with a slight limp, and it looks like he has some type of mental illness. I actually wrote about him way back in July in this blog (damn I've been writing since July?). So anyway, yesterday, as I was waiting on the train to go home, I noticed that he too was about to get on a crowded train car, and I was intrigued. The train he was getting on was WAY too crowded for me, so I vowed to take the next one. But this dude was undeterred by the crowd, and he just got on, holding the three bags I always see him with on the street. At that point, I wanted to run up to him with pen and pad in hand, and just break into a quick impromptu interview. I wanted to know where he was going, why did he choose now to get on the train, and is this something he'd been planning for awhile. Was he worried about losing his spot at the location he had chosen to abandon. The whole thing was fascinating to me, and it would have given me a little insight on the life of a homeless person.

Speaking of the homeless, yesterday, as soon as I left work, I realized that I had to urinate like nobody's business(what does that expression really mean?). I was too lazy to go back in my building, so I decided to just hold it for 15 minutes until I got home. As I crossed the street, I noticed a homeless man holding out his cup, and I just ignored him and kept it moving. 5 steps after I passed him, I passed his area where his belongings were. 2 steps after the passing of the belongings, I must have passed the place where he urinated, because the smell, jumped down my nostrils and threatened to take me down like I was Gerald Ford. 10 steps after that, I immediately got jealous of this man. Here I was holding in my urine until I got home, and this homeless gentleman had the power to just say f*&k it, and piss on the mean streets of DC, and then hold a cup(that he could have peed in I might add)out and ask for money. Gotta respect that.

This blog entry is odd. Something must be in the air...I can feel it..coming in the air tonight

Thursday, December 28, 2006

So I saw yet another ex of mine last friday at the airport. I was walking with my mother, and I saw her coming towards me, and I really wish I could have walked right past her..and quite frankly, if my mother hadn't been with me, I would have done just that. But, my since my mother the minister was with me, I was obligated to not only speak, but to have a short conversation. This ex, we'll call her Sylvia(her real name) is one that I didn't really have the best of relationships with. She holds the distinction of being the WORST sexual experience I've ever had in my life..and this is by far. She had ZERO rhythm, she didn't do some of the things that I like so very much(considering she was 36, that's just unacceptable), and on top of that, she couldn't decided whether she wanted to be a good, celibate church girl, or an all out sex freak(who couldn't really do it all that well). Anyway, when she saw me and my mother, her face lit up, her business card came out, and the personal cell number was written on the back. My mother immediately was like, you should call her, I like her blah blah blah. I politely discarded the number for various reasons. She did look good and all, but this is a situation where the bad FAR outweighs the good. And I feel sorry for anyone she sleeps with..I also feel sorry for her if she happens to read this blog, because I pretty much slammed her sexual prowess in just a few short sentences.

I had one of those evenings when I really didn't want to go home and read my book, so I decided to go out to a bar and watch the Wizards game. While at the bar, I sat next to this woman who was happily in a 3 year relationship. She talked about her man ad nauseum. She talked about their marriage plans, she talked about how they met, and all that jazz. Usually, I would be quite annoyed at this kind of incessant chatter, while I'm trying to watch a game, particularly at a bar. But since I'm on the brink of being 32 years old, I'm in this weird what-does-life-really-mean phase, so I started asking her questions about how she knew this was the one, and did she feel like she was missing out other dudes, and she flat out said no(I think she was lying), which was pretty impressive. Then she gave me the typical line about how handsome I was, and how I should have no problem settling down blah blah blah..I appreciated the sentiments and all, but I really wasn't trying to hear that. I was interested in hearing from someone who was happy and I wanted to know how they got there. So many folks bitch about how unhappy they are in marriage/relationships, so it was nice to hear a success story. So after I had sex with her...just kidding, I just thought that would be funny. Anyway, I left out of that bar with plenty to think about, and plenty of liquor in my system, and the Wizards won. Good times all around.

I called my friend when I got home, and attempted to talk to her about this bar convo I had just been a part of, but I don't think I made much sense, because the liquor grabbed me, wrestled me to the ground, and took me out. Part of me said I'm too old to be drinking like that, but the better part of me enjoyed having that particular outlet. I'm paying for it this morning though.

Here's the song that's in my head this morning. The best part of the song? The cymbal crashes throughout the song..I sit here at my desk sometimes, acting like I play the now you too can do it.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

I was so caught up in my own life yesterday, that I forgot to mention the loss of the one James Brown had. And at this point, so much has been said about the contributions of the man, that I really don't have much to add. My first exposure to him that I remember came around 1984, when my father would play records every Saturday evening. He would always find time to put on a James Brown record, and then he and my mother would explain to me how in the 70s, no party was really a party without a few James Brown records(incidentally, both my parents told that exact same story at some point this weekend). Every time I would buy a rap cd, my father would hear a song, and let me know that a James Brown record had been sampled in the song. In fact, there are LOTS of hip hop artists who owe their career to a James Brown sample, hook or loop. I also remember James doing that corny ass Living in America song for the movie Rocky IV. Considering his vast body of work, I think I'll grant him a pass for that.

Our 38th president, Gerald Ford also passed away yesterday, but to be honest that really isn't that big of a deal. One, he was 93 years old, which is a good run for anyone. Once you reach 90, you're on borrowed time anyway, so anything passed that is like playing with house money(whatever that means). Two, Gerald had been ill over the past few years, and I'm sure he's at peace right now. I read a blog by a former employee of the Boston Globe who said that major newspaper keep something called "ready-made obituaries". These are obits that written for individuals who are either near death, sickly, or just plain old. Since these indviduals are threats to die at any time, it is advantageous from the newspaper's vantage point, to have them 90% written to cut down any hassles for the next morning's edition of the newspaper. It sounds a bit cruel, but I admire the efficiency of it. James Brown probably didn't have a ready made obit, but I bet everything that Gerald Ford fact I bet the author of that obituary has been ready to hit send for a good 5 years now. And that's no disrespect to Gerald fact Rudy Giuliani, Barack Obama, Hilary Clinton, Al Gore, and whoever else is trying to run for president, needs to study Gerald Ford's presidency. Why? Ford basically has the blueprint down for how to follow a president who has left a mess, because he followed Nixon and the Watergate scandal. I know I plan on reading a bit more about my damn self.

Oh, I tried to watch the movie Clerks 2, and it was just absolute garbage. 10 years ago, I watched the first Clerks, and it seemed so different than anything I had seen. I don't know whether I'm just older, or whether this movie is just not as good as that one, but I stopped it after 30 minutes, completely wishing that I could have that 30 minutes back; however, the one bright spot to look at was Rosario Dawson. I'll never get sick of looking at her.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Before I talk about my weekend with my son, I need to get a couple of things off my chest. Number one, I won one of my 4 fantasy football leagues, and its a damn shame how happy that made me. For a person who loves sports, this is monumental, and I plan on talking plenty of trash about this for at least 2 weeks. Number two, I must be getting a bit more mature. Yesterday, while watching the Miami Heat vs the Los Angeles Lakers, I saw Dwayne Wade's wife being interviewed. This was her outfit. Now I can appreciate a fine set of breasts in a pushup bra as much as the next man(maybe more), but is that appropriate for a Christmas day broadcast? Once she started talking, the ABC cameraman zoomed in so close, that her fantastic breasts were no longer visible. The first thing I did is text my brother..the second thing I did is wish I had HDTV, and the last thing I did is come up with the mature thought, that maybe she should put those things away.

My weekend with young Carlton was absolutely fun. I got lucky, and I was able to send half of Christmas day with him, so that definitely made me smile. He woke me up at 6:45am, to ask me where the presents were, and if we could open them. Part of me wanted to say, how do you know you're getting presents, but I didn't do that. He opened his gifts, I took pictures, we ate breakfast, watch DVDs, and then I took him home to his mother. After I dropped him off, I sat in the car and tried hard not to cry. It simply isn't natural for me to drop off and leave my son, especially when I suspect he's not in an ideal environment. But I focused on the good times and let that get me through. Whenever I drop him off, it puts me in a bit of a somber mood, and that mood cost me numerous Christmas day meals. A couple people invited me over for dinner, but simply wasn't up to it. So I went home and had a baked potato and peas for my Christmas dinner..quite tasty I must add. The weekend breakdown:

-We visited the barbershop, so that young Carlton could get a fresh haircut. I think I was happier about this than he was

-We went to Borders bookstore to pick out my dad's gift. My son helped me look up some books by going to the computer, and navigating the search function. Very me at least

-We went to visit my dad, and that was very rewarding and very fun. My dad got young Carlton a Reggie Bush jersey, and then the three of us went out to talk and throw the football around. Not to be overly sappy, but that is one of the moments I always wanted to happen once I had a son. Yet another emotional moment for me. I think my son may be a football player, which I really don't want. I'd much rather he stick to golf. Less contact, more money

-We went to see A Night At The Museum, which is a hilarious movie. Most of the jokes are for the kids, but there are some adult jokes slipped in there too, which is usually how most kiddie movies are.

-Carlton again wakes me up at 7am. I thought kids liked to sleep in, but clearly I was wrong. I think I got 10 hours of sleep in 4 days.

-We go see The Pursuit of Happyness. Carlton patiently sat through this movie, he asked me a few questions, but for the most part he enjoyed it. I held it together until the last scene in the movie(I won't give it away), and then I just started crying. I tried to hold it back, but it really didn't help. I explained to Carlton why I was crying, and of course he asked me to stop, which made it worse. We walked around downtown DC a bit, and talked about the good and bad parts of the movie. I'm definitely glad I took the boy to go see it. It reminded me of when I was 9, and my father took me to go see, A Soldier's Story. That movie scared the hell out of me, but my father and I talked about it afterwards and I felt much better.

-We went back over my dad's to watch football, but it turned into a contest between my dad and I to see who could stay awake. we were BOTH tired, and of course Carlton just ran rampant around his basement.

Billy Joel. Just The Way You Are

Friday, December 22, 2006

So I picked up my son today, and let me tell you there is no better feeling in the world then seeing my son after a long or brief hiatus. None. His mother must have boycotted the the barber, because he was rocking the Don King, but I'll take care of that tomorrow at the barber shop. My son did the typical move he always does, when he tries to act like he doesn't know who I am, until I run up and hug him and that was cool. I treated his mother and his other brother to sum Starbucks coffee and pastry, and I briefly caught up with all of them. I really don't like to do that, but its important that Carlton see his mother and I on good terms, so he doesn't think he has to act a certain way towards either one of us. Once that was over, it was just he and I in the car.

We talked about race first..I explained what "black" was what "white" was, and I also sprinkled in a little "latino". I also joked with him and called him a "referee", since his both black and white, and he got a kick out of that. Next, we moved and discussed his love life, and he mentioned that he had a girlfriend, but she left him for another dude. At this point, I realized that my son was adopted, because no offspring of mine would get left by a woman..but anyway, he said it didn't matter, because he knew another woman would like him..which was more like it. After that we discussed sports, music, and most importantly, the beatings his daddy used to get when he was a baby. It was good times, and hell yes I am happy as hell. I am supposed to be at my company xmas party right now, but the traffic and the drive had me way too tired. But I wanted to write this blog, because words cannot even properly explain how good I feel and how happy I am..although two paragraphs worth just did.

As I am writing this, my mother is making my son go from door to door with her, as she hands out carrot cakes. Thank god I stayed behind.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

So tomorrow I drive down to Hampton to pick up my son for the weekend. I don't get him on xmas day, but I'm not going to complain, because I can still attempt to make this upcoming weekend as fun as xmas day can be. And like I do every time I see him, I'm trying to make this weekend chock full of fun. I am aiming on getting tickets to a Georgetown basketball game on Saturday, he will see his grandmother on Friday, and his grandfather on Saturday, we will sit down and discuss life, and I'm quite sure at some we will sit down and watch a football game or two. But, the event that has me the most torn is the decision on whether to go see the Pursuit of Happyness. My boy Cliff called me last night, and told me he saw the movie, and he felt like it may be a bit too heavy for a nine year old to digest. I talked to my father last night, and he felt like above and beyond everything else, that the movie was a father/son movie, and I needed to talk to my son and then discuss it with him both before and after. I tend to agree with my father, but the flip side of me doesn't want to shake my son up too much. We have limited time together as it is right now, so something like this may be too much. But I am honestly leaning towards taking him to go see it, and if nothing else he'll talk to me about what he felt, which important to me. Carlton isn't really all that expressive(surprise, surprise), but when he does feel strongly about something he just talks and talks. We'll see how it goes.

So yesterday I mentioned that I didn't speak to a woman I used to talk to when I saw her out..well yesterday, when I got home from work, I got a text message from this same woman(coincidence? I think not), and she told me that I was wrong for not speaking, and she felt embarassed, and she told me that she did smile and say hello to me. At this point, I felt a little guilty, and I told her when and if I saw her again, I would say hello. That was the mature and correct thing to do, but I swear the bad side of me wanted to say, "Hell no I didn't speak to your dumb ass". But again, that is just wrong, and I'm on the brink of 32 years old..i have to at least feign maturity every now and then. But her sending me that text the very day I mentioned her in this blog, again has me wondering who all reads this blog. I wish I had a better tracking devise just to see who reads, since the majority of the folks who DO read just refuse to comment.

I need someone to send me a list of the top 10 drinks that can be successfully mixed with egg nog. I know rum goes well, but I"m looking to expand my horizons a bit.

Since it is the Christmas season, I thought I'd post a Christmas song. Enjoy!

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

I still cannot believe the Philadelphia 76ers traded Allen Iverson. From a basketball standpoint, they had to do it, because it was clear the current mix of players they had were not at all going to jive with Iverson. Philly actually should have done this trade a few years ago, before their relationship went completely sour, because they would have gotten much better players than what they received. But still, for 10 years Iverson gave his all every night, often with virtually zero help. He brought Philly to the brink of a championship, he put butts in the stands, and most importantly, he gave us the infamous PRACTICE press conference. Philly is really going to miss him, much like they missed Charles Barkley after they traded him back in 1992, and much like they missed Wilt "Assman" Chamberlain back in 1968. The good news is that Iverson will now be able to play with Carmelo Anthony out in Denver, and that reason alone is enough for me buy an NBA package with DirecTV, so I can see all of their games.

And to those people who say that these athletes are overpaid and spoiled they should consider this. Allen Iverson's kids and familiy have lived in Philly for 10 years. They are in school, they play sports, and they have a stable lifestyle. Now, Allen has been traded away, which means his home will now be in Denver, and he has to decided whether to uproot his family or be a long distance dad/husband. I'm not even speculating as to whether Allen's been faithful to his wife, but the point here is that this trade now puts a strain on his family. Does he make enough money to adjust to this? Hell yes. But still, I can't imagine having to uproot my family that quickly. Even rich athletes have real problems to deal with regardless of their status. I sound like a rich athlete apologist now.

One issue I failed to address on Monday was yet another social faux pas I committed last Friday. In this very blog, back in the late summer, I mentioned this young lady who I was involved with that I was feeling a great deal. And like most women I've been involved with this year, she fell off, and yeah it was probably my fault, but that's old news. I saw her while I was out on Friday, and I didn't say jack to her..not hi, not how are you, I just gave her a head nod and kept it moving. In retrospect, that was probably the wrong thing to is common courtesy to speak to someone you know, especially when you've seen them naked. But clearly I'm not bound by the rules of common courtesy and maturity all the time..hahaha..and yes I'm really laughing. So why I am mentioning all of this? Because this book that I'm working on will have a chapter or two on all of my social indiscretions. In fact that might even be the title. This book WILL be completed by next year, and it is my goal to be on MSNBC with Keith Olbermann and Oprah. Only then, will I be a happy man.

I'll close with some Ghostface. The best rapper you've never listened to. Ghost is Back

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

I had yet another socially awkward moment this morning. The kind I thought I would be finished with considering I'm into my thirties now. I saw a friend of mine on the train during my late trek to work. We don't really have a lot of interactions face to face, but we do know each other, and we read each other's blogs, occasionally trade emails, etc. I saw her, we said hello, she mentioned it was her birthday, I gave her birthday wishes, and then I said some dumbshit about not seeing in her work clothes before and good she looked. And right after I said it, I was like man what the hell am I saying. I wasn't trying to hit on her, and she did look good and professional, but damn was that the only thing I could conjure up? Had my trusty keyboard been within arm's reach, I certainly would have come up with something better, but unfortunately for me, and everyone who comes in contact with me in such a circumstance, talking face to face with keyboards is not an action that is socially acceptable. Not yet anyway. But man when that moment comes, I will dazzle folks with most impressive 5 minutes of small talk they've ever experienced in their life. Until then, I'm left with awkward moments like today. So if you're reading this Ms. Dcadventures, happy birthday to you, and sorry for the weird comment. If you didn't think it was weird, then this whole paragraph has been an exercise in futility.

So Carmelo Anthony received a 15 game suspension for fighting yesterday, and it was definitely justified considering the punch he threw, and considering that the commissioner David Stern is taking a hardline stance to be sure there aren't anymore incidents like the one that happened two years ago in Detroit.. And even though players cannot control their emotions all the time, there is a certain point where you need a certain level of restraint, especially when you know the penalties will be stiff. I know lots of sports writers and other folks are prematurely throwing the word racism around(once again), and it is bullshit. There are penalties for fighting, and the players know that. Now lots of the fans and some sportswriters are calling the type of behavior that they saw on the court thuggish, and they are saying this is what happens when you let "street" individuals into the NBA, and that's bull. EVERY contact sport has fighting, its part of being competitive, and everyone knows that. The racist element lies in how these athletes are viewed, not how they are punished when they mess up. That's my take at least, I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

I have officially changed my mind about throwing a birthday party. It is something that sounded good on paper, but now that I think about all of the red tape I have to go through, it simply isn't worth it. If I had a surprise party, I'd welcome that with open arms, but who wants to plan their own birthday party, and then have to deal with headaches that come with it. I simply don't have enough patience. So the alternative? I'm going to find a spot in this wonderful city to hang out in, and then I'm going to tell folks where I'll be, and hopefully they will join me. If not, I am determine to have fun with whomever does show up.. My ex used to ask me why I made such a big deal out of birthday, especially considering I'm old enough to be used to them by now. The answer? That is my one day to be selfish. Father's day to me is really about seeing my son; Christmas is not my birthday, so I usuallly ask folks not to get me jack, because its not about gifts for me anymore. But my birthday is MY day, and if I feel like acting a fool, or acting a bit spoiled and selfish, then by golly I'm going to doing to that. At least until i'm 50, then i'm toning it down.

And now a selection from the Legendary Roots Crew: A Clock With No Hands.

Monday, December 18, 2006

So I get a phone call last night around 9pm from my boy Cliff, who at the time, was about five minutes from meeting this woman for a blind date. He had grave concerns about her weight, since her page on, really didn't provide info as to what her size was (obviously Cliff prefers the slimmer ladies). So he called me up, and asked me what he should do, just in case she turned out to be a big girl. Me being the good friend that I am, I provided him with two viable options. He could 1)Tell the girl, look, let's not waste each other's time, you aren't really my type, and then leave. 2)Have me call him about 5 minutes into the date, and then tell the girl, look I have to take an emergency flight(Cliff is a pilot). Cliff had a third option which was to endure the woman's size long enough to possibly get some oral sex out of the deal. Of course, if he had been able to pull that third option off, he would instantly be placed into the friend Hall of Fame..that type of action on a first date is rare..but not impossible. Anyway, he went on the date, she wasn't fat, but he ended up saying some dumb shit to sabotage himself anyway. The point of my story? There is never a dull moment with your friends..never. Two of my female friends got on me this weekend for not being as accessible as I've been in the past. One was just kind of joking with me, while the other seemed to be questioning whether we were really friends anymore. On one hand I did kind of diss(do people still say that?) one of my friends, but on the other hand, that's how friendship goes sometimes. We piss each other off, we explain why, and then we keep it moving. Like I said though, its never a dull moment with your friends. This is the longest paragraph I've ever written.

I went to this jazz club with a friend of mine in DC on Friday night called HR-57 to watch this talented pianist named Eric Lewis. This club was relatively small, and it had a nice atmosphere, and they also allowed you to bring your own beer or wine if you were so inclined(which was odd). Mr. Lewis is incredible piano player, but his band failed him miserably, and it pissed me off, and I'm not even a jazz player..just an enthusiast. First off, the bass player broke his bass. How is that possible? I do not know, but midway through the third song, the bass player was out of commission. Since a set with just a piano and drum player really isn't all that entertaining, Mr. Lewis had to readjust his set, and play solo. Now he pulled it off brilliantly, playing his own compositions, Christmas songs, and Stevie Wonder classics without missing a beat. But there were a couple of moments when the drummer should have jumped in with him, and the drummer was just clueless..he was sitting on his hands like a fan, instead of realizing that he was on stage too..Mr. Lewis was even baiting him to join in, and he never took the hint. Once the bass player "fixed" his instrument, the drummer joined back in, and they played a beautiful version of the classic, "My Favorite Things". And again, the drummer was just off, despite Mr. Lewis' repeated attempts to get him on track. Again what's my point? Two things. 1)Seeing this performance not only made me wish I still played the trumpet, but it made me wish I had stuck with playing and learning jazz in general. 2)The whole night made me appreciate the lessons in jazz my father had taught me over the years. I know my friend was getting tired of me talking out loud and making observations. The next day I promptly called my father and thanked him for how I was raised. It was a Kodak moment indeed.

Damn this is a long entry..

Anyway, I wonder how many games Carmelo Anthony is going to be suspended for this fight on Friday night. I know somewhere Michael Jordan is pissed that the main player wearing his label is in trouble yet again. It was a damn good punch though.

And now, my favorite Maxwell song. Get to Know Ya.

Again, my spell check function is broke, so if you see errors, just let me know, but don't antagonize me dammit

Friday, December 15, 2006

After a one day blockage of my blog here at work, I am now back and ready to begin blogging. I still dont know what the hell happened, but at this point who cares.

My xmas party here at the job really wasn't all that bad yesterday. Perhaps it was because I easily had 2 or 3 glasses of wine...and that's being modest. Or maybe it was because the party was from 12:30 to 4pm,and I dipped out at 1:30. Whatever the reason, I found myself having a good time for the hour or so I was in attendance. I got a heaping plate of food, spread some holiday cheer and small talk to the people, and then I quietly dipped out of there back to the safe confines of my office desk. Of course today, people are asking if I was there, and I say yeah you didn't see me?

I may have touched on this before, but I am touching on it again. I am ULTRA competitive..i mean real competitive. I had to lose at anything whether it be sports trivia, a video game, a race, a one-on-one basketball match or anything. Last night, I realized just how competitive I can get. I was clearly getting my ass whipped at scrabble, and my friend tried to grab my hand in a mock affectionate type of way, and I jerked it away and "playfully" slapped her hand(i bet you thought I was going to say her face huh). I crossed the line, and she let me know that I had, but dammit I hate being mocked when I'm losing. When my brother and I were younger, I ripped a Nintendo Game(Double Dribble) right out of the wall, because he was whipping up on me. Of course, on the flip side, if I am winning, I will talk some jive like you've never seen in your life, and enjoy every minute of it. See how ass backwards that is..I need to curb that a bit, but its hard. Like right now, it doesnt look like i'm going to win my fantasy football league, and i'm taking that personally. You know how women say they don't trust a man who doesn't like sports? Well I don't trust anyone who isn't competitive..there's no need to be a fanatic like me, but a competitive streak is an absolute must to me..with men or women.

Good looking out to my main man Kevin who put me on to this Robin Thicke song, I Need Love. I hope this doesn't make me gay and you gayer.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Ok, first and foremost, my job has now shut down my blog for some reason. i can view all of my entries, but I cannot create a new entry...not from work anyway. i don't know what type of bullshit that is, but i am hoping that today was just an anomaly, and tomorrow i can resume with my daily blogging. if I cannot continue blogging on this site, i will certainly find a new home. in the meantime, i am working feverishly to purchase a laptop. it was long overdue any damn way, so this new revelation is only pushing me harder, faster and deeper. it is amazing how dependent I have become on typing a blog and receiving feedback. that shit is now a way of life son. Plus, I don't write well in the afternoons. Right now, i want to write, but in t minus 5 minutes, Pardon the Interruption is coming on ESPN, and so my attention span is low.

anyway, i'm working on this situation, bear with me please.

and goodluck

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

The official stamp of old age was placed on my head yesterday afternoon. One of the interns here in my building was on my floor, and clearly he was lost and bewildered. Because he was a young brother, I suppose he felt comfortable asking another brother for directions to the restroom. He peeked his head into my office, and then uttered the words that a young, early 30s gentleman like myself would really prefer not to hear..not yet anyway. "Excuse me sir...". I paused for a second, and then I just kept it moving and said, "What's up?". He asked me where the restroom was, I directed him there, and then he said, "Thanks a lot sir". I was like you gotta be kidding me. Now on one hand, I suppose I should be thankful that the youngster had enough respect for me to call me sir. He could have called me dog, champ, nigga, or something like that, all of which are a bit inappropriate in the workplace, so I appreciate his word choice on some level. But damn if that didn't make me feel older. I remember being 22, fresh out of college, and in the workplace, and I called the men 40 and over "sir" out of respect. And I always addressed the older women by "Ms" or "Mrs". But I sure as hell don't remember addressing the men who were around 30 as sir. I'm blaming it on the beard..

One of the best perks of the internet, is that it allows you to have damn good e-friendships, without every really getting bogged down in all that face to face b.s. I do have some friends that it is cool to meet, drink, eat, talk jive, maybe club a bit, and then separate. I have a handful of friends like that. But I also have some friends who primarily exist via the boundaries of my computer screen, and that is alright with me too. We talk during the course of the day, exchange jokes, talk about relationship issues, and sometimes exchange real and serious fears and worries. Once we log off the computer, the friendships end, until the next log on occurs. It's not that we COULDN'T be friends face to face, its just the email/chat function effectively allows us to scratch the friendship itch. An anti social person like myself, thrives on that lack of non-contact. God bless the internets as GW Bush would say.

This has nothing to do with anything, but I have a taste for Chik-Fil-A like you wouldn't believe. I remember at my old job, when I would travel, I would purposely have my AA route a flight for me thru Atlanta, because they had a Chik-Fil-A in the airport(concourse A I believe). Those were good times!

Love Of My Own

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

I know I have probably played the dream card here in this blog space more than enough, but believe me I don't write about all of the dreams that I have, just the interesting ones. And this morning around 6am, I had a very interesting dream. I dreamed that I was living in a small town, and I was training for a boxing match with Jermain Taylor. I remember going to a cookout in my honor, and everyone was giving me strategy on how I should tackle my opponent. My father was in the dream giving in depth strategies on how to stay mentally strong, and avoid getting hit. A friend of a friend who I can't stand in real life was also in the dream, making dessert for me which was absolutely weird. And at one point, I was in the barber shop, and Jermain Taylor himself came by to wish me luck. I remember thinking to myself at one point in the dream, I'm going to get my ass kicked, but apparently that wasn't stopping me from training or preparing for the fight. Of course my alarm woke me up before the fight actually happened, but I can honestly say I was a bit nervous about having to actually step in the ring. What's the real life parallel? My son's mother will be served court papers any day now, and that will officially begin "the fight". And yes I'm nervous. And that's all I'll say about that for now.

There are countless office parties this week, and the first one is today from 3-5 pm. It is a department wide holiday party, and on Thursday, there is a floor wide one. I am skipping today's holiday party for sure, and I'm sure I'll catch some flack for it, but I'll just have to take that. Nothing of substance goes on at this parties..people stand around and do absolutely nothing, except pat each other on the back, and try to conduct semi-witty conversations while stuffing their faces with desserts. Somehow I can do without..Now Thursday's holiday party I absolutely have to attend, and that one is going to be even worse. All of the people I directly work with will be there, and that one is from 12-3pm. Gifts will be exchanged, holiday cheer will be spread, and I will try my absolute hardest to set aside my cynicism in the name of all that is Christmas. For the gift exchange, I will be taking this game that my ex gave me last year for xmas. I never opened the damn gift, because I couldn't interest anyone in playing a sports board game against me, because they knew I would spank that ass. I've tried to give that game away to no avail, so finally my opportunity has arrived. That is contribution to the holiday party..and no I'm not Scrooge, I just don't like partying with people I work with..not at all.

Kiss from a Rose by Seal. What makes this song so interesting? It's one of the few hits(on the radio at least) that was ever done in 3/4 time (this is where those years of taking music comes in). Most songs are done in 4/4, which means you can count 1234, and then beat changes. Kiss from a rose was done in 3/4, which you can count 123, and then it changes, and because it sounds a bit unconventional(for the radio at least) I found it interesting that it became a hit. Just a portion of the useless knowledge I possess.

Monday, December 11, 2006

I would like to do two studies/experiments, and if I had the resources I would definitely do them. One, I would like to analyze folks as they buy condoms. I'd really be interested in watching their body language, how talkative they are, and most importantly, whether they buy JUST condoms, or do they throw in another purchase just to mask the fact that they are about to get some. I was in the drug store yesterday morning, and I saw someone coming going through this, and it just came to mine. When I was younger I used to buy chips, a magazine, gum, and anything just to draw attention away from the fact that I was buying condoms. The clerk would ring them up, look at me, and then do a double take and then look at me again, and I would be embarassed. Now? When I buy them, I look at them as if to say, YEAH, AND?

The second study I would be interested in doing involves black Santa Claus, and white neighborhoods. I think it would be very interesting to go into a primarily white mall(for me it would be Montgomery Mall), and to hire a black Santa Claus to work there throughout the entire month of December, just to see how many white(and possibly black) parents would march their kids up to sit on his lap. I especially would want there to be an instance when the kid sees Santa from afar, begs their parent to let them go up there, and then the parent(and maybe the kid) realize that Santa is a bit darker than the "usual" Santas. Would they turn around briskly and rationalize the importance of Santa away? Would the kid say, "that's not Santa, that's Gordon Parks..what would really happen? This would be a great Saturday Night Live skit similar to the one Eddie Murphy did back in the 80s when he dressed as a white man..

I was late paying my cell phone bill, so on Friday my phone was off the majority of the day. And then all weekend my battery has been acting funny, so even when the phone was back on, it was still going in and out. You never realize how dependent you are on cell phones, until you don't have one. I just happen to be one of those people who doesn't even bother getting a phone for the house, because the cell is my primary mode of conversation, but I think I may invest in one just in case. Since March I have left my phone at work, dropped my phone in the toilet, left my charger at work or at home, and every time I do this I feel helpless without my phone. This blows my mind, especially since 10 years ago, no one really had a cell phone all like that, and life went on just fine. Perhaps this is only fascinating to me..

I know this song is a few years old, but I can't stop replaying it: Still R.A.Y.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Reason #23 why education is so important. This morning I went into the Starbucks to buy a Gingerbread Latte once again. While I was standing there, I noticed a chalkboard with a holiday promotion on it. Instantly two words that were incorrectly spelled jumped out at me: "Chrismas" and "occation". I started to just let it slide, but then I noticed that most of the people behind the counter were black. So I thought it would be mighty black of me to inform the indviduals of the error that had been made, however my observation was met with much resistance. First the manager(a male) tried to tell me I was wrong, then when he realized that I was indeed right, he gave me a dirty look. Now I did feel bad, because he had to get down on his knees and change the sign in front of lots of people(mostly white). Nevertheless, I think a good deed was done, and I feel good about it. There's no place in the world for Starbucks signs with errors on it. Not at all.

Yesterday's blog about my top 5 villains was one of my favorite entries ever, and NO ONE..i mean NO ONE said a damn thing about it, which pissed me off. I get that kind of brilliance once maybe twice a year, and when it comes through me I feel good, and I want to share it with the world. Unfortunately, the world didn't take a shine to it. A damn shame indeed.

I have many more mindless offerings to share this morning, but quite frankly, my hands are too cold, and I'm a bit hung over from a wonderful session I had with some Jack Daniels last night. If you love me, you'll understand.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

First, to the anonymous person who commented that the song I posted two days ago, was on the Glitter soundtrack, thank you for clearing up the mystery. However my investigative fervor has died down, and I will not be renting Glitter..unless they have some unreleased footage of Mariah Carey showering, in which case I have another item for my Christmas list.

I have been advised by my attorney not to write too much about my son and his mother on this blog, because there could possibly be legal ramifications later, and it could possibly be used against me. But there was a frustrating development last night, and it is killing me that I cannot vent via the written word like I have grown so accustomed to doing. I was in a great mood until I got this phone call, and then it just about ruined my evening. I was able to go to bed with some peace of mind, but up until then my thoughts ranged from rage to OJ-style kiling to sadness, and then to anger. I also forgot about a commitment I had to a friend of mine(Sorry Dana), and I just cannot let those types of calls/situations cripple me like that. Easier said than done though.

There was this dude on the train this morning, who looked exacly like Keith David. I know that guy on the train must have thought I had the gay or something, but for a second I thought it really was him. Keith David is one of my favorite mean mf actors. Need a working definition of mean mfs? They are the actors who have an uncanny knack for being mean motherfuckers who take no mess, have a scowl, and make you root for the bad guy. So this got me to thinking, who my other favorite mean mfs. Allow me:

Clifton Powell: Recently he has been playing nice guys (most recently in Ray) but in the mid 90s he had the bad mf role down pat. He played it to perfection in Menace II Society and Dead Presidents.

Gene Hackman: Two words: Crimson Tide

Joe Pesci: Joe Pesci is deceptively mean, because he's so funny in his movies, that you almost forget that he always is a threat to shoot you, and then go on about his business in an unassuming fashion. He's a personal favorite of mine, because in Casino, in the middle of a conversation with Sharon Stone's character, he just gently pushed her head down to his crotch, so that she could administer some oral pleasure to him. I've never had the pleasure of doing that, but I aspire to thank to Mr. Pesci.

And finally, Darth Vader: Mr Vader has the unusual talent of never changing his facial expression which is very rare, and that is a talent that only the Burger King mascot has been able to match. But back to Vader..he can choke people by raising his hand, he has the voice of James Earl Jones, and he's all black, which can never hurt in the intimidation game. Vader reigns supreme on this list.

And yes my thoughts are all over the place today.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

First off, I'd like to thank the anonymous person who left a comment on my blog commenting that the Eric Benet song I spoke of yesterday was on the Glitter soundtrack that Mariah Carey put out a few years back. I took it upon myself(against my better judgement) and researched this, and that was incorrect. Unfortunately, I can't make fun of this person, because they remain anonymous. Reveal yourself unto me please, so I can attempt to win this argument with you.

So one day before this year is out, I have to go in and get a full STD/HIV screening, and I can't say I'm dreading it, but I'm not exactly jumping for joy either. It's kind of like going to a family dinner, and wondering if you're going to be chosen to say grace. You know based on past experiences, you'll probably be passed over, but there's always that small chance that you'll be called upon, and you're never really prepared for it. Actually that's a bad analogy, because saying grace can't kill you or handicap you for life..that is unless you curse God to bloody hell in the middle of grace, and even then an overweight female family member with big breasts would kill you even before God got wind of your sin. I digress...

Anyway, I'm pretty sure that my tests will come out just fine, but I'm not 100% sure. In my head over the past few days, I've done a mental inventory of not only the women I've given the business to this year, but overall, and its always a humbling experience. There are people who I had no business being with, people who I wish I could trade in for a Harley or something, and others who were great for the moment, but that's about it. Of course there are some folks I wish I could get one more chance at, but not really. All of these people make up my "list", and when it is time to take this HIV/STD test, you just think of all these things. A friend of mine just had a test like this, and this person was sweating bullets until the results came back. Considering what is at stake, there is really no good excuse for being unsafe and reckless, but it happens to me and others. I should have written this last Friday, which was AIDS day, but it slipped my mind. I have forgotten what my point was..anyway, when I get my test results back, I am definitely writing about them here, because that will be a beautiful day. I've gotten these tests every year since I was 17, so I shouldn't stress..but I do.

I hope my brother doesn't get mad at me for writing this, but he told me yesterday that women are throwing the goodies at him like crazy since his marriage. I will never truly understand why women will look at a single dude, and ignore him, and then as soon as he gets married, all of a sudden his stock goes through the roof. Of course not all women think like this, but every friend of mine who has gotten married the past few years, speaks of this. I'd really be interested to know what this is about, so much so that I have thought of doing some "investigative" work that involves me purchasing a wedding ring. Of course this wouldn't be for personal gain, but rather this would be strictly in the interest of finding the elusive truth(s) surrounding married men and single women.

One on One

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

So about five minutes before I walk into my office, I hear this song by Eric Benet called, "What Could Have Been". The song is off of an unreleased cd he made entitled, "Better and Better". Basically the song is about him reminiscing on a love of his(I'm guessing Halle Berry but I could be wrong), and how he wishes the outcome would have been much different. The song is excellent, but it is very very sad. I wish I had listened to this song when I left the house, and then finished up with something a bit more uptempo. I could only sing this type of song to one woman, but man I wish I could dedicate some other songs to some of the other women I've talked to..I think it would be downright hilarious. Of course I would never do something like that, because then it appears as if I am not over some of these people, which is an insult to my diabolical side. Sometimes I just enjoy doing mindless things like that. That's character flaw of Rashad number 45.

Anyway, the bigger issue I pondered, is how many of my past mistakes in relationships/flings I carry over into the next situation. In my old job, we did something called tracking and evaluation, and this tactic was meant to analyze a task, come up with a mechanism to track it, figure out its effectiveness, and then evaluate what steps could be taken to tweak it going forward. There needs to be someone who can step in and do this for relationships..almost like an exit interview. The right questions need to be asked, suggestions should be made, and a plan of action going forward should be put together. I'm sure I could do this myself, but it would be much better if an outside person could work with me or whoever. I should create this business..because relationships NEVER go out of style, and neither does heartbreak.

If I hear Michael Richards apologize on more time for saying the word nigger like it was going out of style, I am going cut my eyebrows off, and draw them back on in an angry fashion. His apologies at this point are contrived, and I'd respect him a whole lot more if he just came out and said, "look..I meant exactly what I said. You all are niggers, you use the word all the time, I wanted to get in on the action, and I'm not apologizing. I've made a substantial amount of money off of Seinfeld already, so I don't need a career, so kiss my ass you black nigger tar babies(ok perhaps I overdid it)." Now he would get a beat down that Rodney King wouldn't recognize, but at least I'd respect the man for sticking by his opinion right or wrong. That type of intergrity is scarce these days.

To end this entry I will leave you with this song. The other day, while my boss was at my desk, this song just happened to come on thanks to the shuffle function of Windows Media. I was thoroughly embarassed, and hopefully you'll click on this link, and the exact same thing will happen to you. Be sure to thank me for it later.

Monday, December 04, 2006

This morning as I stood in my towel in the bathroom, I took a long hard look at my face. I was so proud of how far my beard has come. It's gone from looking a scruffy hot mess, to looking full and normal. It's almost as if I've been sporting this thing for years and years as opposed to two months. But the congratulatory mood I was in quickly subsided when I glanced up at my hair. It is a very subtle thing, but slowly but surely, my hairline is thinning. My barber has done a masterful job at masking this deficiency, but considering I look at myself every damn day, I can't help but notice. This has caused me much consternation, and I've had to consider my options. I can continue to be in denial, and I can just keep balding and balding, and holding on to my hair like I'm fighting grim death. Or I can be a bit more proactive, and I can start rocking the bald head look right now..the only problem with that is that my beard would look like a snap on(I see you jack), and that's risky proposition, although I have seen dudes rock that look with no problem. I've yet to come up with a viable solution, and if this was a radio show, I'd open the phones and take some opinions from the callers.

Of all the days of the week, Mondays are the hardest to write a blog of interest. I didn't do anything over the weekend that I really want to blog about(except win some Scrabble games), and often times my mind just isn't terribly sharp just yet. I will say this though. It is currently about 25 degrees here in DC, and the Hawk is howling all over the place, and I think the LEAST God could do is make it snow. He has no other reason to make it THIS cold. Every other part of the country got some major snow action, so why can't the DC area? I'm not even asking for a snowstorm like we had back in '03 when we had like 30-35 inches, I'd take about a 12-15 inches right now(gay double entendre alert). It has been my fantasy to be snowed in with someone I care about with 5 of my favorite movies, plenty of Johnnie Walker, plenty of food, and lots of condoms. Of course God probably realizes that I have these devious plans, and he is purposely withholding the snow. Seriously though, it is cold outside, and it is times like this that I feel badly about making fun of the homeless. It's no joke out there at all, and if my hands are too cold to reach in my pocket and grab money out, I know they are suffering. So if you're watching me God, even though I mentioned a fantasy involving sex and liquor, I brought it all back with some sympathy..please forgive me.

Wild Child by Tony Toni Tone:

Friday, December 01, 2006

Today is the first day of December, and I realized that have been blogging for 4 months and some change, and goddammit that's a milestone..for me at least. I used to keep a journal before this blogging idea was all the rave. I'd write consistently for about a week, and then I wouldn't touch it for another 3 or 4 months. Then I'd rediscover the journal, and wonder why I stopped in the first place. That hasn't been the case with this blog at all. I have actually been pretty damn consistent, and about as open as I can be. I still have about 15-20% of my life that I keep off of here for various reasons, and I think that's pretty damn good. And if you're thinking to yourself, damn he's patting himself on the back right now, then you're absolutely right.

Yesterday, while I was watching your president and mine, George W. Bush unsucessfully navigate yet another press conference, I really starting thinking to myself: I am smarter than this dude. Knowing that you are smarter than your president is the equivalent of knowing Santa doesn't exist, or finding our your adopted, or finding out that new lady you're feeling is really a man with genitals bigger than yours. My point? It's kind of disappointing. Whenever Clinton or even the original George Bush would speak, I got the feeling that I was listening to minds that were much sharper than mine. Listening to this president talk makes me feel like, damn I can be president, when in reality, I cannot. I would absolutely LOVE to sit down with him for about an hour, and just interview him on a variety topics. The first time he tried to come at me with that mumbo jumbo he gives the press everyday, I'd stop him, look him dead in the eye, and say, "what the fuck are you talking about man". Of course then I'd be whisked away and eventually Dick Cheney would shoot me to death, but at least I would have gotten a chance to say, what everyone else is thinking on a nightly basis when viewing our president.

And let me just say that presidents are always easy target to criticize, because of their job. So I am not just talking jive about GW because its trendy, or because I think he's doing a bad job. Every president has good and bad things about their tenure, I can live with that. But every president is NOT this stupid. Therein lies my beef. This paragraph is a disclaimer just in case big brother is indeed watching me.

Also on the news last night, I saw a story about employers who search the internet trying to find dirt on potential job candidates. There are actually people in human resources departments around this fine country, who look for myspace accounts, blogs, facebook and random pictures to hold against you, and to prevent you from being hired. Because of this phenomenon, there is now a business that you can pay to magically delete any shady things that may appear on the internet. Of course all of this has me a bit scared, because if someone read this blog, they would think that I am crazy, and not just because of the URL. It's already bad enough that people I've dated in the past, read this blog, and then say, well what did you mean by that Rashad..but imagine an employer calling me in and saying, "Rashad, I noticed in this blog entry, you went into great detail about going down on a woman. Please explain this. I don't know how I'd play that off. So after I submit this particular entry, I need to figure out how to make this blog a bit more discreet.

Since it is rainy, and a bit depressing out today, I will end with this song by Marvin Gaye entitled: Anna's Song. This song is off the Here, My Dear cd that Marvin did back in '76. To make a long story short, he divorced his wife, and was then ordered to give half the proceeds from his next album to his ex-wife. Marvin started to record a half-ass album, but instead he made an emotional cd entitled Here, My Dear, dedicated to his ex. When it came out, it really didn't sell that well, but as with everything, this cd's legend has grown with time. For anyone who has every gone thru a breakup, this cd is perfect to listen to. My boy Kevin actually put me on to this song though..good looking out black.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

I was all set to sit down and write this morning, and I made the mistake of checking my voicemail, and it had a foul message from someone. In my distant and recent past, I made the grave mistake of messing with someone who is unstable to say the least. Did I know she was unstable when I first talked to her? No. Did I know she was unstable when I continued to deal with her? Yes. But on some level I continued to interact(read: have sex) with her every now and then, because at times it was just convenient sex. Of course I should have known that anything that appears as convenient as that did will come back to haunt you like Nicole and Ron probably do OJ in his dreams. So as a result of me not using good judgement, every now and then I have to pay for it by hearing the types of messages I heard this morning, and it sucks. And, just to be clear, I will NOT address this shit if you email or call me asking me what happened. Just this once, just let it ride pretty please, and welcome to the dark side of Rashad.

Moving boy Brandon has a reggae happy hour/party on Wed nights, and I begrudingly decided to attend yesterday. I was dead tired, and I almost just went home, but I was convinced at the last minute to go, and it really wasn't bad. I am not a reggae fan AT ALL. I liked in back in college here and there, but that was mostly because the women who danced to it were so racy and provocative, and I thought that any music that provoked these types of movements was alright by me. But the fact remained that I had no idea what the hell was being said in the songs. Last night someone broke it down for me, and explained that there is traditional reggae(Bob Marley, Gregory Issacs, Peter Tosh) and I actually like that kind. I can understand what they are saying, and the message is pretty damn good. And then there's dancehall reggae (Shabba, Buju Banton, Beenie Man), and I think this is the kind I don't dig. Again seeing the women dance does it for me, but I wouldn't buy it and play it at home. I wonder if I sound ignorant right now..hey I'm just being honest here. And I refuse to acknowledge reggaeton here in the post. I don't even know why that was created.

A few weeks back, I posted a link of Denny Green, losing his mind after his football team blew a 20 point lead. Well yesterday there was calmer, more cerebral meltdown by Michael Strahan of the New York Football Giants. Apparently, some comments he made on his radio show were taken out of context(in other words, I said them, but I'm not prepared to explain them right now), and a female reporter was getting ready to call him out on it. And here is what happened.

That's all I have today

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I was in the midst of a great mystery this morning on the train. Angela Lansbury and Columbo combined would have truly been stumped by this conundrum I found myself in. I was surrounded by professional people on the train, and I say that because sometimes kids and "regular" people are on the train during my rush hour commute. But on this particular morning, everyone had on suits and business casual attire. By no means does this mean you are a "professional" but for the purposes of this blog entry, it means exactly that. Anyway, I was standing there, and all of a sudden the strong, fierce stench of urine came over me. And when I say fierce, I am not at all exaggerating. And I was thoroughly perplexed, because I couldn't really see anybody who had that pee pee look, and I definitely didn't see anyone who looked homeless or stank so I was just confused. But clearly I wasn't the only one who smelled it, because as the smell traveled, everyone starting making the bitter beer face. Eventually I came to the conclusion that someone in nice clothing, just lost total control of their urinary powers and they sat silently as it ran down their leg slowly. That couldn't have been a good feeling. Sadly, I found this both amusing and disgusting.

I was late coming into work this morning, because I had to get some court documents for a friend of mine. While I was in line at the courthouse, I saw about 20-30 people who were headed to court. How do I know this? Because they were damn near bragging and boasting about how they were going to beat the rap. There black, asian and white kids out there ranging from around 20 to about age 30. NONE of these dudes were dressed for court. They may as well have been headed to the mall. There were bagging clothing, football jerseys, do-rags, and oversized jackets, and I instantly felt old. Color me crazy, but I thought an appearance in court was a serious matter, that involved serious attire. These dudes were taking this situation a little TOO in stride, almost like a badge of honor. I refuse to just pass that off as, "oh that's just how the kids are today", because that's just feeding into the low expectations. But still it was both sad and disappointing. These are the types of occurrences that make me wish I was teaching high school again. I couldn't change every kid, but at least then I felt like I was a positive role model. Now I just feel detached, but I know I can do something about it. I just haven't been motivated until now.

There is a jewelery store right by my building that is in the midst of a holiday sale. To commemorate this sale, they decided to put a dancing Santa Claus in front of the building. Now, this doesn't scare me, because the fear factor bar has been set high by the Burger King mascot, but still it is incredibly creepy. Not only that, if I was homeless person, I'd be organizing some type of petition, because it is taking all of the attention away from them. And yes I'm going to hell for that..

This song that I'm about to share with you, reminds of those Charlie Brown cartoons that used to come on when I was younger. Snoopy and Woodstock would be talking about how to solve life's problems, and in the background you'd here a song like this

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Author Bebe Moore Campbell died yesterday from brain cancer complications. I never really read much of her work, but I did have the pleasure of meeting her on one occasion. About 12 years ago, at my father's wedding to his second wife, I had the distinct pleasure of dancing with her at the reception. She wanted her husband to dance with her, but he was not interested. So me being the smooth 19 year old I was, I danced with her a bit, and I was lucky to have done so. Back then she was about 44, but she was fine, and very sexy. Although the whole time I was dancing with her, I was wishing her daughter Maia was there as well. She was equally fine. Anyway, that's my Bebe Moore Campbell story.

I know I shouldn't think this way, but when someone dies, and they are around my parents age, I get a little concerned. Once you reach the age of 50, things start to mysteriously happen, and although my parents are in good health(to my knowledge) I still worry. My mother has had back issues of late, and my father plays things so close to the vest, he could have all kinds of health issues, but i'd never know(which incidentally is the same way I'll probably handle it, this is known as Black Man Disease). I have friends who have lost their parents at a young age, and there really is no way to brace yourself for that kind of thing. Its probably extremely negative for me to even think that way, but I'm very much human, and my thoughts do drift in that direction. I wonder if I'd pull together and be a leader to the rest of my family, or would I become an extreme hermit and pull away. Who knows. My ex used to tell me that instead of thinking about someone's death, I should think about how best to maximize my time with them while they are here. 90% of the time, I do that.

Other random Tuesday thoughts:
-I have committed myself to do some marketing type things for my friend's business. I didn't tell her this, but I think I am completely out of my league here, because anyone who knows me(I had when people say this by the way) understands that my social skills ar extremely limited. Not because I CAN'T do it, but because I prefer to be a curmudgeon. But yesterday, in this here blog, I said that it pays to do something different for a change, so I shall try it.

-I have a recommendation to do for someone, and until yesterday, I completely forgot that I had to write it. I feel like a bad bad friend.

-I heard my neighbors having sex again yesterday during the early evening hours. Curiously, I never hear the man moaning or talking or anything, I only hear her moaning, which means one of two things is going on: 1) Someone is watching porn or 2)The woman over there has some serious self pleasuring sessions going on. Ideally, I'd like to think that it is a combination of the two. If that is the case, I see a trip to Home Depot and a power drill in future.

-I'm thinking of throwing a birthday party for myself once again. I did it back in '02, and it was pretty fun, and I had a turnout of about 20 people. I think I'd like to do something a bit bigger, but I am a little concerned about people showing up. I feel like I have a reliable friend and extended friend base, but you never really know.

-my financial situation is improving. that's always a beautiful thing.

And now for the musical portion of the blog. I am quite sure that I have linked this song before, but it is just a sexy ass song. I like Lalah Hathaway's husky voice, I like the music, and of course the words are nice as well. The song is called More.

Oh, and the spell check function isn't working properly on the blog, and it hasn't been for about a week now. So if you see typos, keep them to yourself alright buddy?

Monday, November 27, 2006

I must say I feel as good this morning, as I've felt in a long time. Yes I only got 2 hours of sleep last night, and yes I was an hour and a half late to work this morning, but it is still all good this morning. The bills still need to be paid, work still needs to be done, and yes I could stand to be a bit more consistent with my workout regimen, but at this moment, none of it matters. The start of this blog sounds like a Joel Osteen inspirational book, but it is honestly how I feel. I think in order to maintain sanity, it is damn near imperative that we break our routine and do something different. If you're used to waking up at 630 every morning, try getting up at 6 and seeing what you can do with the extra time. If you go broke every payday, try saving a bit of money. If you're used to older men/women and they aren't working, go younger, see if they bring you happiness. This is my PSA for the day.

A whole lot of writing ideas came to me this weekend, and I think for the next month, I am just going to submit an onslaught of writing material to any and every body who will read, listen or whatever. I've done some things here and there, but it really is time to show and prove as the older rappers used to say. A friend of mine basically called me out (again) this weekend, and it made me realize(again) that this writing thing is a gift from God(yeah I know....) and i'd be remiss if I didn't use it to the fullest. So I'm going to try from now if you see in the street throw me some motivation or something. It'll be greatly appreciated, and I throw you a shoutout in the back of my first book...way in the back..

And now, may I suggest to all of you that you go to Starbucks and get yourself a gingerbread latte. I am currently enjoying one, and I swear my nature is rising just a bit because of it. I'm usually not a big coffee drinker, but this one is so money.

I have an admission here. Before I out myself, let me say that this behavior is WAY in the past, but I thought about it last night when a friend of mine told me about a breakup of a friend of hers. On at least 4 or 5 occasions, I have stopped talking to a woman, in an effort to avoid buying them a gift. Sometimes its Christmas, sometimes its Valentine's Day, and in one circumstance it was the woman's birthday. Am I cheap? Not really, but holidays and birthdays often times make you do a quick assessment, which goes a little something like this: "Do I really like this MF enough to buy them a gift? And do I care that much about getting a gift from them, that i'd agree to a gift exchange". And 4 or 5 times that answer has been no, and I bail. I usually make up some bs, but I always wonder if they know the real deal. Now don't get me wrong, when I really like someone, I go all out for their birthday, xmas, valentine's day or whatever. But if its 50/50, i'll pass on the gifts.

And now, to offset that horrible admission, here is some Stevie Wonder

Friday, November 24, 2006

It is the day AFTER Thanksgiving, and I seem to be one of the few people in my building who actually found it necessary to set foot at work. I will actually be able to get a significant amount of work done sans the distractions. No one will come to my desk and ask me about my holiday, no one will bitch and moan about how much they ate, and sadly, no one will bring any leftover and offer me some. I appreciate the solitude.

So a day late, but certainly not any less important, here are a list of things I am thankful for:

-My son and knowing his whereabouts
-My new nephew, Nazir
-My family
-That I had friends and family who called, fed me, let me hang out with them(good looking out Michell), and wouldn't let me get down despite the fact that I wasn't spending my day in the ideal fashion
-that i finally started and to consistenly write in this here blog
-God(my bad man, you should have been first)
-my sex drive(My bad God you shouldn't have been put this close to this one)
-my health
-the fact that I have a steady job
-my boys, Kevin and Cliff who keep me sane
-my ex's who tried

I think that's about it for now. I could go on, but I've covered the basics today.
My parting gift for today: Love No Limit-Mary J Blige

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

In about 48 hours, millions of people in this country will be hitting the malls, shopping centers, so that they can spend insane amounts of money. This is a phenomenon, that I have never really understood. I hear folks at work talking about how early in the morning they will get up on Black Friday, just so they can beat the rush(which won't happen). I hear people making it seem like they just have to spend money on that day, because the sales are just too good to pass up. I mean is it really that serious(rhetorical)? I know I can be unusually cranky around the holiday season, so perhaps it is just me. But I'm not running around a mall or shopping center trying to dodge the crazies and empty my wallet all at the same time. besides, my wallet is empty already.

Rule number 4081: Never listen to folks' opinions on something, until you check it out yourself. I had been hearing mixed reviews about Jay-Z's new cd, and some of the songs I had initially heard sounded just ok; however, I listened to the cd in my headphones this morning from start to finish, and I must say I was impressed. It isn't his best work, but the beats are good, the lyrics are clever as usual, and its an overall solid effort. But it isn't garbage, like folks in internet land were trying to say. As I have written in this here blog before, it is very difficult for a rapper over 35 to stay relevant and interesting. LL Cool J has been trying to do it by taking his clothes off all the time, masking the fact that he has no lyrics at all. So I admire Jay's attempt to stay cool and act his age on this cd. Plus I was able to appreciate it more, because I didn't buy it. Someone was nice enough to burn it for me.

I know this will sound borderline gay, but I need a hug right now, preferably from a big breasted friend of mine. Sometimes you just need a hug to get you through the day or the week, and if you can feel breasts in the process, that just really makes it come together that much more. And I'm not even joking here. I've had an interesting week so far, and I could really use one.

and now, some Jay-Z: Intro

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I apologize for that bullshit entry yesterday. I sat down to write yesterday morning, and I had nothing to give at all. I had lots on my mind, and for once I didn't feel articulating it thru the written word. I actually started and deleted for about 10 minutes, and then I decided to submit a haiku, instead of an entry. Writing haiku is not quite as easy as it appears, so I hope my skimpy efforts were appreciated.

I was having one of those days when I sit down and look at my bills and my finances, and I just get cranky and stressed the hell out. Just like I feel like I need a personal assistant sometimes to manage my wardrobe, I definitely need one to manage my bills and my money. Ideally? I that personal assistant would be with me everytime I got paid, everytime I got a bill, and most importantly, each and every time I made a purchase. Extremely wealthy individuals(particularly athletes and entertainers) have accountants who manage their every financial move, and I hear them say that it can be restrictive at times, but in the long run, it definitely pays off. I need to get me one of them..

So Kramer from Seinfeld, also known as Michael Richards, loses his temper and repeatedly says some racist things while being heckled by some black men in the audience. Then yesterday, he comes out and says he's not a racist, and that he apologizes to "Afro-Americans". This whole situation is just one big bag of wrong. First off, I can't even remember the last time I was called an Afro-American. Blacks, Negroes, African-American yes. Afro American? That just makes the apology a bit unbelievable. Secondly, comedians get heckled for being unfunny all the time, but what kind of comedian responds by losing his temper? Most good comedians have an entire stack of material specifically for hecklers, so for him not to have ready-made retorts was just an indictment on the type of comedian he isn't. And lastly, I found myself watching Seinfeld reruns with a bit or resentment yesterday, which may be wrong, but it is what it is(whatever that means). It's like finding out R Kelly likes underaged girls, and then listening to one of his older songs. You're not quite sure who he's singing too, so there's discomfort around his music, and for now, there's a bit of discomfort in watching the show. As I'm typing this, I'm also thinking that Seinfeld never did have too many black folks on there, but it never bothered me because it was funny. Martin Lawrence never had too many white folks on his show, and never bothered me either. Ok i'm getting unfocused now.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Monday Morning Blog Haiku
my weekend was slow
And this morning I'm sleepy
so haiku will do

Friday, November 17, 2006

How do I know that God(the Hugh Hefner on hiiiigh) loves me? As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, it rained like nobody's business(what does that mean exactly) yesterday, and I left the house ill-equipped to face this rain, since I left my umbrella at home. I had a meeting in another building yesterday afternoon, and upon leaving that meeting it was still pouring rain, but I was ok, because I had borrowed an umbrella from a coworker. And as of 3:45, it was still raining. My coworker came to re-possess her umbrella right around 4:30, and I was really wondering how I was going to endure the weather with no protection and khakis on. Lo and behold, when I stepped outside, not only was it no longer raining, but there were several rays of sunshine that were lucky enough to penetrate the rain clouds that had been so dominant the majority of the day. (That sentence and more just like it will be featured in my spoken word tour coming to a coffee shop near you !!!!). So I am selfish enough to believe that God said, Rashad I know you forgot your umbrella, but I have your back. And now, I'm going to need you to go to church on Sunday and drop a substantial amount in the offering plate, and tell me how much you're thankful.

One of the ladies I used to talk to, asked me why I feel the need to drink on Friday's after work. She said that seemed like a bad habit to form. After resisting the temptation to mush her, I calmly explained my rationale. First and foremost, there is something called happy hour, which is way too good to pass up, especially when you can get an ample buzz for $10. But secondly, getting up and going to work is difficult. I get up between 5 and 6, I shower, I travel to work and endure the train crazies, then I come to my job and fight off the work crazies. Then I go home, cook, watch sports, unwind from the day, and then go to bed where there is a 50/50 chance that I may not fall asleep right away. After five days of this, I need an outlet. Writing in this blog and in other places is cathartic for me, but it doesn't give me the type of release necessary after enduring a work week. A drink or two or three allows me to achieve this. I enjoy some wine or perhaps some margaritas, and it is very relaxing. Plus these drinks are served in a festive atmosphere which only adds to the good times. Everyone is either bitching about their co-workers, or talking about their upcoming weekend plans. And for an hour or two, I enjoy and need that. I have other unwinding tactics, but on Fridays, drinks are my weapon of choice.

A couple things occurred to me as I typed the previous paragraph: 1) I can see my mother reading that and saying to me that I am an alcoholic in training. 2) I should not have had to explain my drinking habits to that woman, and I can't believe I did it. I don't really trust women who don't drink even a little bit..just like women don't trust men who aren't into sports.

Anyway, TGIF.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

I spent the majority of my evening talking to friends and family, while sipping glasses of fine($5.99) wine. Eventually I worked myself into a nice sleepy state, and I went to bed a bit tipsy, but very happy that sleep would finally come my way. About two and a half hours later, my sleep was interrupted by a good friend of mine who wanted to talk. At first I did my usual, "I'm not sleep go ahead and talk to me routine"(which is bullshit), but then I woke up and heard what she had to say. And then the longer I talked the more angry I got, because I realized that going back to sleep was a dream of the pipe variety. So then I began to curse and raise my voice at this person for interrupting my sleep, and this was dead wrong. During the next hour or so that I stayed awake, I thought about my temper once again, and how it can get out of hand. I've actually done a good job as of late, of keeping it in check, but I lost it last night. I'm on the fence in terms of whether I need therapy or not. I need to rename this blog, and call it the "Sleep Deprivation Chronicles", because that's where all my material is coming from.

Other morning observations:

- I forgot my umbrella this morning, and it is raining like Noah's arrival is pending. When I got on the train it wasn't raining, when I got off the rain was here. I coolly dipped into my man purse to get my umbrella, and I realized it wasn't there. So I spent the next 5 minutes trying to be silky smooth while getting didn't work. Now I have to buy a $10 umbrella from the homeless man on the street, who I constantly avoid day to day..

-This is a terrible thing to admit, and I know it has more to do with my own insecurities, but for some reason I can't stand to see folks reading the Bible in the morning on the train. Every time I see it, I want to snatch the book from them, throw it across the train, and then scream on them and say, "NOW WHAT?!". Why can't they read the paper, listen to music, or read mindless sex novels like the rest of us? Its the equivalent of that student in high school who would be in class 5 minutes early studying..its like yeah you're smart and everything, but why make the rest of us look bad? Again, this logic is seriously flawed, but who the hell cares..

-Everyone needs to watch Scrubs. The writing is fantastic, the dialogue is quick and witty, and they are able to successfully walk that tightrope between comedy and seriousness. Excellent show.

-Everyone also needs to visit my friend's site entitled: Rum and Cake. As the holiday season approaches, these are excellent gifts for girlfriends, moms, grandmothers and men who have a touch of the gay.

And now, a song by Sting: Shape of my Heart.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I couldn't sleep last night at all. It is totally demoralizing to look up at the clock, and realize that it is 4:00am, and you have not seen even a minute of sleep. And then when I finally did fall asleep, my alarm went off at 6:20, and I did NOT want to get up at all. Now my eyes are red, my attitude is poor, and I want to mush someone in the worst way. What's a mush you may ask? That's when you firmly press your hand on someone's face, and then you push them away. Its way more demeaning than hitting or slapping someone, and if you haven't had the opportunity to do it to someone, I highly suggest it. It's a good stress reliever..especially when you are operating on 90 minutes of sleep. I mean sure the person you mush may retaliate in a fierce way, but hey, that's the risk you take.

I am going to make an doctor's appointment today, so that I can get him to figure out the source of my headaches, because that's part of the reason I couldn't sleep. At first I thought it was related to me needing glasses, but it feels a bit more serious than that. I've gotten some excellent suggestions as to how I should alleviate my headache, but none of them are working, and its starting to get a bit scary, so I shall visit the doctor. Whenever I go to the doctor, I fear that he will ask me to take an impromptu prostate exam. Don't get me wrong, I understand and respect the dangers of prostate cancer. But what I do NOT understand is the barbaric nature of the exam..I think I've spoken on this before, but the seriousness of this subject cannot be underestimated. The ONLY way I can feel safe that prostate cancer is not in my body, is to bend over and have the doctor(who is a man) stick his finger in my anal cavity? I cringe while I type that. And when women tell me that I'm being a wimp, because they have to do gyno exams every year I want to mush(see above for the definition) them too. I am not doubting the discomfort of a gyno exam, but come on man women have been getting those for a good 10 years by the time they reach my age. I have been living 31 years without a finger in me, and now my world and comfort zone are being rudely interrupted by a probing, gloved finger with KY jelly on it...So yeah I hope the doctor can get this whole headache thing figured out.

One more comment about my sleepless night..when I have nights like that, I wish I could call up my ex and tell her to come over. I could have used some damn comfort, and between good conversation and sex, she would have calmed me, made me laughed, and then put me to sleep with an impressive array of body gyrations, pelvic thrusts and moans. That is very selfish of me I know, but sleep deprivation does things to you man..bad things.

Also, if you haven't already, I highly suggest that you spend an entire non-work day, speaking in a British accent. Not that fake accent that Madonna and Tina Turner use, but a Lennox Lewis, Jeffrey from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air type accent. It throws people way off, and its something I'm prone to do especially when I get tipsy.

I'm going to put this entry out of its misery..clearly the lack of sleep has affected my brain, as well my ability to be effectively coherent.

And now, some Al B. Sure

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

There was an incident at George Mason University last week involving a white fraternity and their mockery of a dark(no pun intended) time in black history. A fraternity decided it would be funny if they dressed up in blackface, and called themselves runaway slaves. Now when I read stuff like this, the kneejerk reaction is to always get angry, cry racism, and to figure out a way to punish these kids. But now that I'm older, I think its worth digging a bit deeper to find out what the root of the problem could be. I think one of the problems is that black culture is now shifting into mainstream culture. The "N" word is flung around regardless of the surroundings, jokes about racism, slavery, etc are no longer viewed as taboo or just for "us", but they are now viewed as tried and true formulas to get laughs. I remember Dave Chappelle telling a story about a skit he was doing involved blackface. He hadn't even gotten to the punchline, and already some white members of his cast were laughing, and instantly he got angry. But after Dave's anger subsided, he realized that maybe he needed to stop the skit, and eventually the show. Not because of racist white folks, but because they were laughing at something he was bringing to the light, without knowing the historical pain and perspective behind the joke. Dave said he felt irresponsible, and he felt like a sellout.

There are times when I am dumb enough to stop watching sports, and my attention veers to videos, and it is sad. As much as I love ass, I really don't need to see it in every damn video. I also don't need to see musicians throwing in my face how much money they have(allegedly), how many cars they have, and all of their jewelry. But sadly, in music video land, these are 90% of the images I see on TV. So if some group of white kids decided to put out a video mocking a group of black kids who were "BALLIN" in a video, is that racist? Or is it just some kids trying to be funny? Now if they throw in some slurs, it is racist, and if they throw in some mean spirited things, then it is racist and mean. But as a black man, i'm sitting here thinking, why can't we put out some other type of images? Why does it always have to be about ballin' and blinging..let them make fun of some other aspect of us? I don't know if i"m explaining this properly, but that certainly isn't going to stop me from trying and typing.

So what the hell am I saying? I really think that black folks need to be extremely conscious of the images they put out, because someone is always watching. And just like kids who think its cool to do with their big brother is or isn't doing, sometimes other folks look at what you're doing, and then decided that they can take certain liberties. It isn't right, and in some cases it is incredibly stupid, but it happens. And when it does, I think some deep thought needs to accompany those cries of racism and bigotry. And no I'm not implying all racism is black people's fault, but we certainly don't get to be completely let off the hook. End of sermon.

As I stepped into my shower this morning, I noticed there was a cricket in my tub. I have no clue how it got there, and I certainly didn't hear it chirp-chirping all night. The animal rights person in me wanted to scoop up the critter, and dump it outside so that it could be among the other rodents. But considering I was buck ass naked and pressed for time, I decided against that. So, I turned the shower head on the cricket, and I proceeded to watch it struggle with the water for about 30 seconds. Finally, the cricket gave up the fight, and it went down the drain in a crumpled heap of cricketness. After I cleaned the shower, I stepped in the tub, and for the five minutes I was in there, I stared at that drain. For some reason, I kept thinking that the cricket would rise out of that drain, strike down on me with furious vengeance, and punish me for my actions. I could not believe that I was actually sitting there in the shower scared, but I was. I wonder of there is any symbolism behind me finding and then killing that cricket.