Wednesday, February 28, 2007

what's been happening since i last blogged? here's a list:

1) i fractured my left hand in two places, 6-8 weeks in a splint/cast.
2)how did i fracture my hand? i was mad at someone and hit it against my bedroom wall
3)who was i mad at? my girlfriend. and no i didn't hit her
4)was it stupid? yes. does my hand hurt? yes. am i left handed? yes. am i one handing this blog entry? hell yes?
5) my doctor gave me two anger management referrals. i will be taking his offer sooner rather than later
6) am i depressed? very much so. that moment of stupidity has and is going to cause great inconvenience in ALL aspects of my life
7) how's my relationship? its better than it was when i hit my damn hand thats for sure, but obviously much work lies ahead.

sorry red hot mama..u said i was an inspiration, i hope i still am in some way...

sorry this entry looks like i texted it in, but one hand typing is tedious.

boys to men - new edition

Friday, February 23, 2007

Well I was late getting here this morning, but I made it in safely. I'll spare you the details of my evening, but it was damn good,and there's a pep in my step, a smile in my heart, and all that other good stuff related to seeing someone you are in love with. Life is good.

But before I saw my ladyfriend last night, I had to watch this clip of Dwyane Wade getting hurt over and over again. Now I respect Wade's game, and he just won a championship along with Shaq. But you CANNOT cry on the bench, and you definitely CANNOT be taken off of a basketball court in a wheelchair if no paralysis is present. I'll stop short of calling him a baby, but that is very very punkish. Now granted, I've never had a separated shoulder, but I've seen both basketball and football players have separated shoulder injuries much worse than Wade, and they are able to walk off..they are in pain, but they walk off. Wade was crying, and a wheelchair was rolled out for him. This kind of thing can also break the morale of a team. I know I'm sounding harsh, but I'm this is based on the many times I've watched a sporting event and seen people injure their shoulders. Never have I seen the level of drama Wade displayed. I wanted to scream "Stay up Kane" at my tv screen.

That's all I have for today, clearly my mind is elsewhere..

See I like to get down jack..

Thursday, February 22, 2007

I left work a little late last night, and right before I did, I saw one of my co-workers leaving. We had the usual b.s.-I'm-about-to-leave-work convo in the hallway, and then I said have a goodnight, and right before we separated, she said to me, "I will God-willing". After that she caught her elevator, and left my sight. I don't know why, but for some reason her saying that was eerie. I found myself wondering if she knew something that I didn't, or did she know that possibly wouldn't make it to the next morning. Then I wondered how weird I would feel the next morning, if she had passed away, and her last words to me were "I will, God willing". Perhaps that's a bit selfish of me, but it crossed my mind. I've yet to see her this morning, but I am REALLY rooting for her to make an appearance.

About 9 years ago, I was working late the day before Thanksgiving, and as I left the building I remembered that I had forgotten something. When I went back up to my office, I saw this guy Dozier. Now Dozier was a brother about twice my age, and he had been laid off from his previous job, so now he was stuck doing cold calls on the phone. As a result, Dozier was kind of bitter, and he NEVER spoke to me. He would grunt and nod, but he only spoke to certain individuals and I didn't happen to be one of them. I was 23 at the time, and eager to be friendly, and he wasn't having it. Well on this day, when I went back to my office, Dozier was catching the elevator down as I was going up. He saw me, smiled with his unlit cigarette in his mouth, and said, "Hey man, I want you to have a beautiful Thanksgiving holiday, and we'll see you next Monday". A million and one smart comments came to mind, but I just said thank you and kept it moving. Monday morning I came into work, and my boss told me that Dozier had died of a massive heart attack on Thanksgiving day no less. All I could think about what his smile and kind words, and it was eerie for me to go to work all week. Our job gave us the option of going to his funeral, but I passed on that. Even back then, funerals were a bit too creepy for me, and to me, we had shared our goodbye at the elevator. I saw all to say, I hope this doesn't happen again today.

Why is it possible that you can have a conversation with ONE person, and they end it by saying, "WE'LL see you". how does one person morph into a group like that?

Switching gears totally, my ladyfriend finally arrives in DC today. When you spend most of your time on the telephone the way we do, there's always a hint of nervousness when you finally do reconnect. I have no doubt that the chemistry we have on the phone, and we've had in the past face to face, will reveal itself. Still, I'll be glad when it actually happens. If I don't write an entry tomorrow, you'll know she put it on me something fierce, and it left me unable to work, walk or type.

The way Larry Graham plucks the bass in this song is incredible, and it is the main reason why I like this song.

(You Caught Me)Smiling - Sly and the Family Stone

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

The security guard in my building had an insane amount of cologne on this morning. It hit me as soon as I walked in the door, and it stayed with me until I made my way to the elevator. I guess since he is the initial contact person people see when they come in the building, it is vital that he smells like half the bottle. I'm don't subscribe to this school of thought, but I guess I can see where he's coming from. Women, not only at this job, but every job I've been to, always smell good. It could be some Bath and Body Works type stuff, it could be something from Victoria's secret, rum and cake, some perfume, or it could just be some hand lotion they happened to stumble upon. Whatever the source is, a woman's scent precedes her, then when she steps in the room, it fills the room up, and upon her departure, that smell sticks around for a good hour or so. A married or taken man could get in some serious trouble that way. Anyway, women smell good for them. I'm convinced that men put our cologne for women. We want women to get whiff of what it is we're sporting on that particular day, and if they happen to smell it and ask what it is, we wont' tell them, because they surely will go back and tell their man to buy it. Or better yet, they will buy the cologne and tell their man to put it on, leaving that man to wonder how the hell she came up with idea. I rarely wear cologne to work. But even when I do, no one ever notices matter how much I put on..

While we're talking about this issue, I have an admission. A few years back, after my ladyfriend and I split up, and I was missing her, I went out and purchased her old scent. It was Vanilla Warm Sugar from bath and body works, and I used to spray a little bit on my pillow because I missed her. This ranks high on the Creepy Scale I know, but one never knows what the pain of missing your lady will do. I would never do something like this now, but hey I did it. Of course once I met someone new, I hid the bottle, but every now and then I'd take a whiff. In my defense, as creepy as this sounds, it is better than me stealing her old drawers and smelling them. If I ever run for office, this paragraph will haunt me.

This morning's weather had that spring feel to it, which made me extremely happy. Although I could use two more snowstorms, I am definitely ready for the warmer weather. Spring time means baseball, baseball means my son will be playing, which means I have an excuse to travel to Tucson, Arizona(where he's now living) to see him play. I didn't get the chance to do this last year, but there's no way in hell I'm missing him play this year. I promised him that I won't be one of those fanatical dads who scream on the sidelines and thoroughly embarass their kids. I know I'll be nervous watching him play, but hopefully I'll be more proud than anything else. My father never was loud when I played basketball and ran track. We'd make eye contact before the game, and he would mouth the words, "come on", or he'd quietly clap his hands, and I'd know it was time to perform. And then during the game, I'd look up and he'd nod in approval or disapproval, but he was never loud. He even heard me curse for the first time during a game, and he let it slide, presumbably because it was in the heat of battle. He never said anything to me about it..that being said, if my 9 year old son curses, I will release a jihad on both he and his stepfather.

I need to get in the habit of not committing to things I know deep down I won't have the time to start, or the effort to see through. That should be have my New Year's resolution, but we're close enough to the Chinese New Year that I can claim that.

Maureen - Sade

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

For the first time in a LONG time I overslept this morning. It wasn't because of a hangover either, I just overslept and was a bit late to work. Sadly, no one even noticed me come in late..I at least wanted to be reprimanded or scolded or something. Nothing. On my way into work, I smelled a man smoking a pipe. I'm not the kind of man who would smoke a pipe everyday, but this is definitely something I'd like to do at least once a month. It smells sweet, and it just looks dignified, although i know too much of it will most certainly kill me. Perhaps I should stretch it to once every 3 months.

This past Sunday, my boy and I sat in Mayorga and had brunch. He did my taxes, we talked about various issues, and just had an overall good time. While we were sitting there on one of the couches, a woman right across from us was breast feeding. Now I've seen women breast feeding in public before, but they usually use a blanket to cover both the breast and the baby. This woman just whipped the breast out for all to see, and the baby was just sucking away. Of course her husband was sitting right next to her, so it wasn't that bad, but I couldn't turn away. I stole about 4 or 5 glances at the breast, which looked to be about a B cup. Not enough to cause a lot of attention, but enough to see that she had a breast out. She caught me looking one time, but she didn't seem to be too bothered. I found it odd that she'd be doing that in a coffee shop, but hey I've never breastfed, so I'm in the dark about such issues.

I spent about 2 hours talking to my dad yesterday, and as usual we had a great conversation. But man, it is becoming increasingly difficult to get off the phone with him. He never gets tired of talking, he rarely gets other phone calls, and when he does, he always tells the people that he would call them back, to get on the phone with me. If I'm at work and we're talking, I act like someone is calling me, and I get off the phone. So I end up having to abruptly end the conversation, and I feel guilty as hell, because there's this weird silence, and then he says, "ok i'll talk to later and I love you". Now by no means do I take my father for granted, and I love talking to him, but damn..after 60-90 minutes I am tapped out. I hope he's not reading this.

My main man Tony Kornheiser is now on the radio, so I'm ending this entry abruptly. So you're in good company Dad.

Love Me or Leave Me Alone - Brand Nubian

Saturday, February 17, 2007

I have spent most of my Saturday loading up my ipod and reminiscing with my mother about old times. We've gone through pictures, talked about my late grandfather, and just discussed life overall. As I am sitting here, I am thinking of how crucial it is to cherish moments like this with not just family, but everyone in my life who I am close to. Because when these people are gone, all I will have is one big memory of these little conversations that have taken place over the years. It sounds very cliche', but it is absolutely true. I need to do this at least once a month with my mother, father, brother, and anyone else who is important to me.

While I talked to my mother she mentioned that a family friend is very ill. She also mentioned that this woman is so ill that she cannot even clean herself after she uses the restroom. In my mind I fast forwarded to when my parents or even my wife get old, and I am put in the position. How would I react? Or would I be so in love and concerned that I didn't even think twice of how disgusting the task at hand may be. It isn't something I want to happen, but it is some folks' reality, and I need to be prepared. I'm at the point where I can talk to my parents and they can pretty much take care of themselves, but what happens when they can't? I worry about that sometimes you know?(like you can answer). These are the types of questions and issues that must be addressed and they are on my mind...

So I'm going to observe Lent this year, and I am going to give up cursing, sex, and drinking..3 the hard way. We'll see how that works out for me..

that's all for now

Friday, February 16, 2007

Just as an addendum to yesterday's story about Tim Hardaway, he did apologize yesterday for making those comments about gay people. And the NBA promptly banned him from making any NBA related appearances during this weekend's All Star game extravaganza. In his apology, he said that as an African American, he knows all too well the pain he can cause from that type of hatred and bigotry. Athletes are so damn predictable its ridiculous..actually let me not limit this to athletes, because everyone in this society does it. They say something stupid, and then they apologize, "if they offended anyone" or for having a momentary lapse in judgement. I've said this before, but it would really be refreshing if someone would make some dumb ass comments, and then stand by them no matter what the public says. If its how they really feel, they should ride or die(sorry for using that expression but it was right on time here) with them. That is why I respect Frank Hargrove. He is a white delegate from VA, who said that black people should get over slavery, and then he said that the Jews should not apologize for killing Christ. When asked to apologize, he basically said hell no I meant what I said. Do I agree with his words? Not exactly, but I respect the fact that he will stand by his words. That's integrity baby!

As I am writing this one of my co-workers just tripped in the hallway, over nothing more than the carpet. I asked her if she was ok, but I didn't dare get up and help her because 1)she's 28 years old, and she's more than capable of getting up on her own and 2)I would have laughed and laughed right in her face. Who trips and falls over carpet? Perhaps its because she weighs 350lbs..

Tony Kornheiser, who debuted on Monday Night Football back in September, and a writer for the Washington Post, will be returning to local radio starting Tuesday, February 20th. Only a few people who know me really understand how much I admire this man. Not only does he have the job I really want, but he's an excellent writer as well. If he read my blog(and after I write this, I'm sending to him) or any of my writing, and I got his approval, I'd be quite happy. He gave up radio last year to focus on broadcasting football, but now he's back.

My ladyfriend is not coming in town this weekend, so all that trash I talked about getting lots of sex looks pretty dumb now. I make no apologies though, because she WILL be here next week, and the sex I was supposed to get rolls over into next week and then some. At least I think that's how it works. I wonder if someone I used to talk to is reading this and laughing at me right now because I'm not getting any..I also am mad at myself that I have smart ass rebuttals on ice, just waiting for someone to do just that. That is just sad..but like my main man Frank Hargrove, and unlike Tim "3 the" Hardaway, I stand by my dumb ass comments.

The Jacksons - Show You The Way To Go

Thursday, February 15, 2007

There have been times on this blog, when I joke that I may be a homophobic, and that probably really isn't true. I think I have been accused and mistaken of being gay more times than I care to admit, and it has me paranoid sometimes that I'm giving off some gay vibes. Ultimately I can only be me, and I can't control that, but it does linger in the back of my mind sometimes. Who wants to be ambiguous you know? Why do I bring this up? Because Mr. Tim Hardaway has raised the bar for homophobia by making these comments yesterday. He didn't even attempt to mask his feelings at all. He pulled a Rush Limbaugh(without the painkillers),and just said exactly what was on his mind. I admire his courage and all, but I do NOT admire the firestorm that's about to rain down on him in the next few days. I fully expect a "my words were taken out of context" type of apology in the next couple of days. I'm also sure that some of Tim's good friends who were gay without him knowing, will be making their feelings known very soon. Tim probably hates the idea of being gay, or maybe he hates how being around gay people secretly arouses him, or perhaps he's trying to distance himself from a gay NBA locker room tryst back in his rookie year, or it could be that the thought of gay sex bothers him. Whatever it is, I doubt very seriously that he hates gay people. It is only a matter of time before someone brings up the irony of a black man making these fact Rush Limbaugh or someone on Fox News may be thinking of that right now. That previous paragraph has been sponsored by Morehouse College.

So the reading the Playboy magazine on the train experiment did not work at all. I read the articles and looked at the pictures, while standing on the train during rush hour last night, and no one gave a damn. A couple of men and women raised their brows, and read over my shoulder, but nothing more than that happened. I guess people are desensitized to that type of thing now. Or maybe I need to try something a bit raunchier I don't know. I did however get funny looks this morning, when people noticed that I had on brown boots to go with my shirt, tie and black slacks. Men and women(presumably members of the fashion police) looked at my shoes, then back at me in horror, as the realized that I was clashing. There is snow and ice all over the nation's capital, and for me to attempt to walk in black dress shoes(with smooth that sounds ghey) is just not the move. So I put on boots, and put my dress shoes in my bag. But I did this to avoid falling on my ass, not as some kind of fashion statement. This distinguishes me from those jackass men who wear tennis shoes with their suits in the summer or spring, and then change to dress shoes upon arriving in their office. A grown man(Mr Rogers is the exception)should not be wearing tennis shoes during his walk into work. There are too many comfortable dress shoes out there. Women can do this, because they have to pull of balancing acts with some of their heels. Not men. These needs to be added to the man law list.

I think i broke all kind of length-of-paragraph rules today.

I shall conclude with a song by Ray-J. Now, in my defense, this song came out in 1996, and this was before Ray-J got all corny and started making sex tapes and showing his bird chest every chance he got. This is back when he was just trying to make a legitimate name for himself. So when you see that I have included a Ray-J song in my blog, don't dismiss it man. Give it a the music is nice.

Ray J - Let It Go

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

About a month back, I had been told that I would receive subscriptions for two magazines. One, I had to pay for (ESPN Magazine), and the other one would be free. So for my second magazine I choose Playboy magazine. Now when men subscribe to Playboy magazine, it isn't simply to look at naked women. Most of the poses that the women hit in Playboy are relatively tame, and there's nothing racy or raunchy in there. Plus the articles in there are excellent, the stories (which can be racy) are interesting, and the feature stories are longer than you'd see in most magazines. To tell you the truth, I had forgotten that I ordered Playboy, until yesterday when I checked my mail and saw a wrapped magazine with Mariah Carey on the cover

Now much to my chagrin, Mariah was not nude in there, but she was scantily clad, which was more than enough to make my nature rise. While I cooked salmon and asparagus(the dinner of champions) I read that magazine from cover to cover and I was thoroughly entertained. The articles entertained, the pictures were mildly arousing, and I now know that if I ever have problems in the romance department, there are countless Playboy-sponsored tutorial videos to rescue me. Now while I was sitting there reading the magazine, I thought that it would be fascinating to see how folks around me would react if I took my act on the road, and read this on the train. I know people have access to all kind of dirty movies in the privacy of their own home, but I still think the sight of a grown man reading Playboy might cause a reaction. I tried it this morning, but the trains were empty due to the inclement weather. I shall try again on the way home.

And speaking of the weather, it is actually pretty bad out there, but not bad enough for the federal govt to close. Only a two hour delay, but I came in early anyway, so that I can leave early. When I arrived there was one other woman here, who usually never says JACK to me. But because we are the only two here in the office, she felt obligated to bless me with some of the worst small talk I've ever been forced to sit through. I mean she was reaching BIG time by asking me how I like working here, and my answers were an exercise in minimalism. If I knew sign language, I would have signed my answers, that's how bad it was. It's just like being in an elevator man..some people just feel the need to talk when they are alone with someone. I've never been bound by such rules.

I'll spare you my I-hate-Valentine's-Day rant, because I am quite sure that will be written by a million and one bloggers and journalists today. I'll revisit this next week, so I can appear to be special.

Everything She Wants - Wham

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Two more quick notes on the Grammys. One, Scarlett Johansson looked absolutely stunning. I mean I know I seem to swinging from her jock excessively, but this cannot be stressed enough. Second, my favorite writer, Bill Simmons kept a Grammy blog on Sunday night that I found to be quite humorous.

An ex of mine used to tell me that a job was for making money, paying the bills, and finding pleasurable things to do with the money made. She said that was more important than doing something you had a passion for doing for possibly less money. I thought then(and still do) that she was just bitter that her professional basketball career derailed a bit early, or maybe that's how she was raised. When I was younger I used to think that making money was the most important thing in achieving happiness, and everything else would come. Now that I'm a bit older, and I've worked a job or two, I disagree with that notion. And yes ideally you'd be on a job where there's an abundance of money to be made AND it just so happens to be while doing something you love. But it doesn't work out that well all the time. If I could, I'd wake up every morning, work out, watch Sportscenter, and maybe play around with some emails and this blog, and then I'd write all day long. I'd write about sports, maybe about a social issues that was gnawing at my conscience, and maybe about a cd that I'd found to be particularly interesting. But i'd write and write for a solid month, and then I'd peddle my work around to any and everyone who'd bite. And then I'd work at a bookstore hoping that some book karma would jump into my hands(because the reward damn sure wouldn't be in the pay). Would I be struggling financially? maybe. But would I be happy, you damn right..and would the big payoff come eventually? I do believe so. And as my friend Michell said very recently, as you get older, it becomes a bit too easy to become dismissive about your dreams and wishes, and blame it on the many responsibilities we now have. I'm determined to find that happy medium...I'm on a mission like Frodo here.

Staying with that theme, I am tempted to quit my job, take my tax return money, and my vacation payout, and move to New Mexico to be with my lady..and I'm tempted to do this next March. I think WAY too much to be that impulsive, but that thought has crossed my mind.

So this Saturday marks my return to the flag football field, and I'm very excited. I dropped out last year, and I immediately regretted it, so I am committed to staying the course(provided I don't move to New Mexico). Practices are 10am on Saturday morning, and I am looking forward to running around like a damn fool, staying in shape, and trying to relive my high school athletic glory. Plus its co-ed so who knows what can pop out or get pulled down accidentally. Good times all around!!!

Finally, this is black history month, and I've been pretty mum about it thus far. So, to me, black history month(I feel like I'm in high school) is about turning others on to the accomplishments of someone who really doesn't receive a lot of shine or recognition for whatever reason. So, when you get the chance, please read a book by the late Ralph Wiley. Yes he was a sportswriter, but to limit him as such would be a crime. He tackled social issues with the same degree of eloquence, and even if I didn't agree with his stance I can't say that he didn't make me think. Here is a listing of some of his works. If you get a chance, pick one up and read it. He is a bit preachy, but there's enough humor in there to offset it.

Gnarls Barkley - St. Elsewhere

Monday, February 12, 2007

Each and every year I tell myself that I am not going to watch the Grammy awards. Sometimes groups and artists are nominiated whose cd's I've never listened to (see the Dixie Chicks), and other times artists win, who don't deserve to win (see Ludacris..that Runaway song is the only good one on there), and then other times my favorite group, gets shafted out of an award I feel they truly deserve(The Roots: Game Theory.) And finally, when you really think about, to sit down and watch 3 hours of awards and performances is just downright boring. Yet, when the clocked turned 8pm, I was right in front of the television, waiting for The Police to serenade me for the first time in over 20 years. My Grammy comments:

-The Police should have had more than one song. They should have opened the awards, performed in the middle, and then closed the damn show out. Even Soul Train used to let artists perform (actualy lipsync)twice, so why couldn't the Grammys. And "Roxanne" is cool and all, but there MANY more songs they could have done.

-Beyonce can't sing. The dress was hot, but she can't sing
-I'm glad Ornette Coleman was recognized in front of a nationally televised audience, particularly during black history month. Jazz is a genre of music that is frequently overlooked during these types of telecasts, so to see him, even for a brief moment, was refreshing. His suit was garbage though.
-Chris Brown can dance and all, but I'd have much rather see Michael Jackson do a dance tribute to James Brown.
-My two favorite moments: 1)Christina Aguilera singing "It's A Man's World". Hands down the best performance. and 2) Danny Ray, James Brown's cape man, putting the Godfather's legendary cape over the microphone.
-Oh and I like Gnarls Barkley's performance of Crazy.

Writing that paragraph made me feel like Joan Rivers or something. I actually started writing a blog based on the Grammys, but I got bored and stopped doing it altogether. I'm not cut out for that type of writing I guess.

I've been told twice now that my blog is no longer exciting, and at first I blew it off, but I must admit it does bother me just a bit. I make an attempt to write everyday, and I guess the downside of that is that some days will be only be interesting to me, while other days will do a better job of appealing to everyone who reads. The reality is that my life and accompanying thoughts just aren't all that good every damn day. Sometimes I go back and read my entries, and wonder what the hell I was talking about. Other days I go back and read, and I want package it up and send it to any and every publication for them to publish. I think today's entry kind of sucks, but hey its Monday at 7am. Oh, and in a related note, starting this Thursday, I will be receiving an insane amount of good, intense sex, which should send my creativity output flying through the roof.

I recommend the movie Running with Scissors. Its about a dysfunctional family, and I must admit that during the movie I thought to myself, what the hell is this? Right after the movie was done, I wasn't crazy about it either, but as I think about it, it was an interesting movie. It also made me want to read the book.

And now, like Barbaro, I shall put this entry out of its misery.

After Hours - Ronny Jordan

Friday, February 09, 2007

I walked out of the house without any chapstick in sight. I usually keep some in my pocket, and in my bag just in case, but apparently there was some type of oversight. I walked out of the house looking like Ashy Larry. Luckily for me, no one ever pays attention to me in the morning, so I'm fine.

So last night I had this WILD dream involving Jay-Z, Beyonce, me and my old apartment in Greenbelt. Initially, I was alone looking out of the window in my old bedrrom, and when I turned around, Jay-Z and Beyonce were there in the nude..Jay-Z was just lying there, and Beyonce was gyrating and writhing all over him. Immediately, I walked towards the door to leave, but they both told me not to leave. So I proceeded to watch them having sex, and it was definitely a pain/pleasure type deal. At the time I was thoroughly enjoying seeing Beyonce naked(especially all that ass. However, seeing Jay-Z in the buff was definitely a vomit-worthy moment, and I think this was payback for me tackling gay issues two days in a row on this here blog. During their sexcapades, I tried to leave again, but they were vehemently against me doing so. At one point I reached out and touched Beyonce's breast, and judging by the look Jay-Z gave, he was vehemently against me doing that also. It was very weird, and it ended with me sitting at my desk talking to Beyonce while Jay-Z was in the shower. This is one dream where I can do without an interpretation.

I can't tell you how weird it was last night on CNN, MSNBC and Fox News, while watching coverage(or lack thereof..hahaha) of Anna Nicole Smith. On one side of the screen you'd see respected tv personalities like Geraldo, Bill O'Reilly, Larry King, and Anderson Cooper talking about legitimate issues surrounding her death(how she died, her money, her child, etc). And then on the other side of the screen, you'd see clips of Anna Nicole Smith, where she would be hitting the most blatent come-fuck-me poses man has ever seen. She's poke her ass out, smile, wiggle her breasts, and god knows what else, while these people were talking, and it made it hard for me to take it seriously. I could say more, but I don't want to disrespect her legacy or her family(who are avid readers of my blog of course).

Alright - Allen Anthony

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Sticking with what seems to be a gay theme the past couple of days, Mr John Amaechi, a former NBA player, came out of the closet yesterday. The day before this admission, ESPN reported that a book was being published by an anonymous ex gay NBA player, and then a day later his identity was revealed. I suspected he may be gay awhile back, but I thought that may have been some of my paranoid homophobia kicking in, but it turns out I was right on the money. Lebron James had an interesting quote when he said that teammates have a certain trust/bond, and someone not admitting that they are gay breaks that locker room code. I'm quite sure there are many secrets not shared in the locker room Lebron, so I'm not quite buying that. But to be honest, it really isn't a big deal that this guy has come out of the closet. 1)He sucked as a player..I mean big time. He had no heart, and considering he was 6'11 and 290 lbs, he would routinely get pushed around. 2)He waited 4 years after he retired to say something, which sounds like he is trying to profit off of this via his book. and 3)If it is truly no big deal as he says, then why come out and announce it? Perhaps he is trying to make the NBA world more comfortable, so that someone else may come out. I sincerely doubt that, but I'm curious to see what happens. Oh and did I mention that Amaechi is Bri-tish? Perhaps I should rethink my fantasy of walking around with a Bri-tish accent...nah I'm taking my chances, I like the accent too much.

I hate to say this, because he is one of sports idols, but I fully expect Mike Tyson's life to end badly sometime in the next few years. He is a man with little money and nothing to do to fulfill his time. I read that he recently checked in the rehab for various addictions. Based on his recent arrests, they are probably cocaine, alcohol and weed. This is a man who with the help of his "entourage" and Don King went through more than $350 million dollars during his career. Bad investments, bad advice and just general recklessness have rendered the formal champion broke, lonely and living in Arizona. He has tried his hand at wrestling, Ultimate Fighting, and he's even mention fighting a woman at one point, all in the name of trying to make some money, and it hasn't worked. No one around him bothered to give him real advice, they just latched themselves on to he and his legacy, took the money and ran. Now he's a 40+ man who is paranoid, devoid of any remaining boxing skills, and headed for an early death. If I could reach him, I'd tell him to open a gym in a city where he felt comfortable, get someone to believe in him and sponsor him, and start there. All he really knows is boxing, but he can't fight anymore, so why not profit off of it, while helping out some youngsters in the process. It sounds easier said than done, but it has to be better than what he's doing now.

You ever get so nervous and anxious about something that you overthink it in you head to the point where you can't sleep or rationally think for about 2 to 3 hours? You want to talk to someone about it, and you may even try, but you end up falling hopelessly short and in the process you frustrate yourself and the person you're talking to. I did that last night, and it was the equivalent of being stuck in a figure eight.. For times like that, I wish I had a heavy bag hanging from the middle of my living room, so I could hit it repeatedly, until i was too tired to think and I fell out from fatigue. And that is yet another job opportunity for Mike Tyson, he could come show me how to hit it properly..I'm sure John Amaechi would have loved that sentence..

I Try - Angela Bofill

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Right before i went to sleep last night, I watched the weather, and I noticed that while the reporter was talking, there was snow coming down quite hard. I turned off all my lights, went to my bedroom, and watched it snow for a good 10 minutes. This brought back all those memories of elementary, junior and high school, when they would predict 1,045 inches of snow, but only 6 inches would fall, and they would cancel school anyway. Usually, I'd stay in the house all damn day driving myself and my brother crazy, or I'd go out and play a football game with my friends in the snow. Usually about 2pm, I was bored out of my mind and secretly wishing I had school..until the next morning, when I'd be hoping for more snow, or at least a two hour delay or something. So when I woke up this morning, I was halfway hoping that instead of the 1 to 3 inches of snow they had predicted, I'd see 1,045 inches of snow on the ground, as God's way of saying thank you for being patient all these years. Surprisingly, there were about 2 inches of snow on the ground, and here I am at work, on time and disgruntled.

During the Super Bowl, there was this Snickers commercial that involved two mechanics who accidentally kiss while trying to eat a Snickers at the same time. At the end of the accidental kiss, the guys feel the need to do something overly masculine(like pull chest hair out) in order to offset the kiss. Neil Giuliano, the president of the GLAAD is quoted as saying, "I don't know what kind of mindse it takes to think its okay to slug another guy because of a mistaken kiss". Really Neil? Are you kidding me? Well allow me to end the mystery for you. There are some men who are straight and love granted any scenario where two, non related men kiss is a bit far fetched. But if it just so happend to occur, you can best believe that the two involved men will be a bit peeved. If the two men were supposed to be gay, there would be no problem. But clearly the two were supposed to be straight. Now I'm not defending the commercial at all, because I thought it was a bit crass, plus kids don't need to be seeing that, especially since it may put parents in a position where they have to explain something during the Super Bowl. Plus, I don't need to see two guys kissing at all, but I think GLAAD overreacted just a bit. Maybe I'm being insensitive, I'm sure someone(Tia) will check me if I am.

Raheem Devaughn - Promise

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

To be honest, this is the type of weather, where I fully expect to see a homeless person dead on the street, and I'm not trying to be funny or morbid. It is just the reality this time of year, but even more so now when the windchill is easily below zero. It is bitterly cold out there, to the point where your hands freeze even if you take 10 seconds to take your gloves off to get your metro pass out. Luckily, I don't see many homeless folks outside this morning, and I hope that means they were able to find tempoarary refuge in a local shelter. I complained to myself about getting out of bed this morning, or how cold my floor was after I got out of the shower, but that's nothing compared to being in this weather all night and all day long. It's funny because for years I worked for HUD, specifically with a group that was designed to end chronic homelessness, and the entire time I worked for HUD I never saw a homeless person. That part of DC where I worked did not have homeless wandering around, and at the time I lived in Greenbelt, MD, which also did not have any VISIBLE homeless folks around. Now I work and live in the city, work for a different part of the government, and I see(and write about)them everyday. And I have no solution to end the problem, but I still vow to give them a voice via an article or something.

So I finally saw the movie, "The Last King of Scotland", and it was an above average movie. It wasn't as good as "The Departed", but it definitely made me think. Because I have not done a lot of reading on Idi Amin, I was basically a slave to what the movie was portraying about him. I know he was an evil man, but that's just too easy to portray. I would have liked to know a bit more about what drove him in the beginning, and I definitely would have liked to hear about the good things he did for the people of Uganda, if any. That being said, Forest Whitaker did a damn good job of portraying Amin, and he deserves all the awards he has and will get. When I got home from the movie, I saw the Inside the Actor's Studio with Eddie Murphy(Morton!!!!). Because Eddie looks increasingly gay these days, and most of his appearance come in kiddie movies, it is easy to forget that in the 80s and early 90s, Eddie was a dominant comedian and actor. As I watched James Lipton bring up his various movies, and the behind the scenes work that went with it, I forgot how big of a giant he was and still is. And during the interview, he didn't look gay at all(not that anything is wrong with that). I am now inspired to put his old movies on my Netflix queue.

The Washington City Paper has responded to my query/application for a job. They didn't reject me, but they didn't accept me either. I'm on hold, which I will still count as a victory. Pre-blog and about 5 years ago, i'd be devastated, and I would probably stop writing. I know better now. There are just too many outlets available for writers to get discouraged. And yes I'm talking to myself here.

Why do people record themselves having sex and then keep it? I did this way back in '95 with a friend of mine, but we never watched it more than once afterwards, and even then we didn't make it all the way through before we both got tired of it. The fun is in taping it, not watching, and definitely not leaking it to the media to make money off of it. I cram to understand that logic, yet everyday celebrity after celebrity "accidentally" leaks this to the press. I need help understanding this movement.

And continuing with the sex vibe here is Justify My Love - Madonna(Written by Lenny Kravitz, who also does background vocals). And for good measure, here is the video too.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Allow me to gloat and talk some trash this fine Monday morning. On Friday, in this here blog, I predicted that the final score of the Super Bowl would be Indy 28 and Chicago 17. And what was the final score? Indy 29 Chicago 17. That's as close to perfection as you can get, and I'd like to take this time to pat myself on the back. It isn't often that I get something right, so when I do it deserves its own paragraph.

The game itself was pretty exciting despite the weather, and I was very happy for Peyton Manning, Tony Dungy and Marvin Harrison. Getting to a Super Bowl and winning is not an easy task..just ask the Buffalo Bills. Now that they've won the Super Bowl, they are basically bulletproof the remainder of their careers. No matter what they do or do not accomplish from this point on, they will always be able to point to February 4th, 2007 as their crowning achievement. There are many players and coaches past and present who can't say that, and now Dungy, Harrison, Manning and the entire Colts team can say that they are Super Bowl champions.

It was nice to see Prince perform at halftime, and I must admit I never get sick of him doing songs that he's done millions of times. Plus seeing him play Purple Rain in the Miami rain was pretty damn cool. I don't really remember too much about the commercials, because I was at a Super Bowl party, and everyone was talking and yelling through all of them. As Super Bowl parties go, this one was pretty low key. Pizza, chicken, more wine than liquor, and of course lots of yelling. And I didn't let anyone leave without telling them that I had successfully predicted the winning score.

So on Saturday, I saw the movie The Departed, and I was truly blown away. Yes there was gratuitous violence, and yes there were two too many "N" words spoken by some of the white characters(that's Boston for you), but in general it was a good movie. I never knew which way the plot was going to turn, and for once, a big name cast actually came through with some big time performances. I haven't seen the other Oscar nominated movies, but if The Departed won, I'd be happy. Today after work, I'll be going to see creepy Forest Whitaker in the Last King of Scotland. I still have no desire to see Dreamgirls right now. That's a Sunday morning, I feel like watching DVDs type movie to me..

Relationships are hard man..but they get even more difficult when you try to have a discussion after a Super Bowl party and you've been drinking. I don't recommend it at all. And that's one to grow on..

And now in honor of my main man Prince, here is one of my favorite songs by him entitled The Ballad of Dorothy Parker. For some reason, he recorded this song at a low volume, so once you download it, turn your speakers way up, and then immediately after the song is over, turn the volume back down, as to not get yourself in trouble. The song is a cute little story about a crush Prince has, and it was off the classic Sign O' the Times cd. And this is one of my favorite songs ever, so it would behoove you to listen to it.

Friday, February 02, 2007

As usual, for legal reasons, I cannot go into great detail about what happened yesterday. Although, at this point, it would actually help my case if my son's mother were reading this, because maybe then a fire would be lit under ass. She did not show up yesterday, because she was never summoned. She is purposely being elusive right now, and although it hurts me in the short-term, in the long term it simply strengthens my case. The wheels are in motion right now, and "we" are supposed to go back to court on May 3rd. That will be decision day. I'm not upset, I'm not pissed, I just now that any gratification I received will be delayed. My biggest weakness(well one of them anyway) is my patience, it is about to be put through a test of epic proportions. I'm up to it though. And now, as promised, a log of my trip to Hampton.

3:45am - I wake up about 15 minutes before my alarm goes off full of nervous energy. I listen to sports talk radio, and hear some dude talk about who is going to win the Super Bowl. These dudes know nothing. More on that later

4:30am - I get in the car, turn sports talk radio back on, and try to convince myself that I can stay awake for the next two and a half hours

4:30-7am - Much of the ride down was an absolute blur. The sports radio only lasted about 30 minutes, before the signal got weak, so I relied on my cds, but I really didn't want to hear them either. I do at one point though, remember switching four lanes, screaming out money ain't a thing.

7am- I arrive at the parking garage for the Hampton court system. At this point, I am very nervous, I am foaming at the mouth, my hands are shaking, and my genitals suddenly get smaller and closer to my body(i don't know why this happens, it just does). I can't call my ladyfriend, because it is 5am, where she is, and I can't call my mother, because she is downright annoying in this instances. so....

7:15am - I called my dad, and he calms me down. We talk about the Super Bowl, we joke about our court appearance in Hampton back in 1999, and he assures me that I will do just fine. I get off the phone feeling like I can beat Mike Tyson(which is not such a big thing these days, but still).

7:30am - I call the ladyfriend anyway to see if she's up..she's not. I turn my phone off, leave it in the car(per the court's rules) and head to the building.

7:45am - As usual, I am early, and I notice two other couples standing in front of the court building, since it doesn't open until 8. Everyone has their game face on, so there weren't a lot of good mornings passed around. It doesn't help that it feels like 23 degrees out there.

8am - The doors open, I am frisked, and I sit in the waiting area. I always wonder what kind of jackass would come up to the courthouse with a gun.

8:15am: This is domestic and juvenile court, so I walk by numerous teenage kids, who are scheduled to go on trial for numerous offenses, and it hurts my feelings. 90% of them are black, about 60% are men, and 100% of them are dressed inappropriately. No one in their life told them that if you're on trial for something you did, a good impression starts with a nice suit, a fresh cut, and a good attitude. I wanted to take each one of them outside and give them the pep talk, but I couldn't.

8:30am: Just as i suspect, Carlton's mother does not show...
8:31am: The woman next to me has very nice legs. I didn't mean to look, but she kept crossing and uncrossing them, presumably because nerves were getting to her. She had on black, fishnet stocking. Totally wrong for court, but I welcome diversion for me.

8:35 am: A woman who likes like she could be kin to Barbara Bush, calls me into the preliminary room, and I explain why only I am in court, and what my case is. She cuts off each one of my sentences, so that she can write them down in HER words not mine. At this point, I am tempted to put on my ignorant hat, and speak in undetectable slang just to fuck with her..but I behave

8:40am - I go back in the waiting room, and there is a bonafide argument jumping off. A woman, who is with her son who look to be about 30, is bitching and moaning about how unfair the mother, and the VA court system is in general. The other 20 people in the waiting room, just stay quiet hoping she'll shut up. After about 15 mintues, she looks at me hoping I'll cosign with her. I look at her, and tell her she's messing up the relaxed vibe, and that everyone has a sob story, and her's is annoying(i'm paraphrasing here). She tells me I'm disrespectful(ohhh, the irony), and I have a smart mouth, and we go back and forth for a bit. Curiously, I'm no longer nervous.

9am - The loud woman, we'll call her Alberta Sharpton, tries to go in the courtroom with her son, and is shut down by Barbara Bush who says only the parents are allowed. Alberta starts bitching again, but no one listens. She goes in the bathroom

9:10am - In my perverted mind, I start looking at all these mother/father combinations trying to picture them having sex. Despite the fact that they were all in court, at some point, it was all about the hot buck naked monkely love, and there was sex involved. This was oddly arousing.

9:45am - I am called in front of the judge. I tell the judge why I am there, what I ultimately want, and how I need his help. He is very friendly and helpful to me, although I can't help but wonder how friendly he'd be if he knew my son's mother was white. And no justice is not blind. Anyway, he gives me a number to call, and I walk out of there

10 am - I get in the car, talk to my ladyfriend, and head home. I stopped writing after that.

Actually, that kind of sucked. I wrote things down to keep myself from going crazy, but it definitely wasn't my best writing. I'll look back on this though, and cherish it though.

I started watching the movie Scoop last night, and although I still have about an hour left to watch, one thing is abundantly clear. Scarlett Johansson is someone I need to hunt down and get to sit on my lap. Absolutely beautiful.

My Super Bowl prediction? Indy 28 Chicago 17.

The Deele - Two Occasions