My son and I went school shopping yesterday, and I must say, it was not that bad. His mother gave me a pretty detailed list, and we whipped through it in a 3 hour journey that included stops in Rite-Aid, Staples, FootLocker, and of course Target. The stores weren't crowded because we went late in the day, and we were able to just walk freely and talk about life, college football, the word "nigger" and who he would vote for if he could vote. Good times indeed, and he actually surprised me with his knowledge. Anyway, between buying graph paper, and composition books and all that, I feel like I should be going to school on Tuesday.


By the way, whenever you are in a department store, a drug store, or even if you're on hold at a place of business, I guarantee you'll hear the song I am posting below. I heard it twice yesterday, and its the ultimate, soft rock, easy listening song.

Ambrosia - How Much I Feel:

So the Republican National Convention is going to take place in Minnesota, while Hurricane Gustav prepares to hit New Orleans almost 3 years to the day that Katrina hit. Those are some peculiar circumstances coming together. If I worked for the Bush administration, I would be going overboard to make sure that New Orleans and the surrounding areas are taken of while this hurricane is in that area. I would take money earmarked for something else, and transfer over to the Hurricane Gustav fund, and I would name this Operation Not Again, or something catchy like that. Each and every person in that area, would be safe. And then to top of it off, during the convention, I would have all the speakers mention this operation, and basically pat themselves on the back. Its a win-win. I highly doubt that would happen, but someone needs to see to it that it doesn.

McCain just stole all of Obama's thunder yesterday with that Sarah Palin for VP move. The Thursday night newscasts were all about the historical significance of Obama and his speech ,and less than 12 hours later, everyone was saying, "McCain did what?", "Sarah who?". I wish I could take an informal poll among jilted Hillary voters, to see how many are no swayed to vote for this woman, despite her very anti-Hillary views. All of sudden the Republican convention on Monday has become must-see television.

Again, by the time you're reading this, Obama's speech will have been analyzed, sliced and diced each and every way possible, so I know I won't be breaking any new ground by discussing it myself. Still, that was quite a performance he put on last night. He was a little more aggressive towards McCain than I had seen him in the past, but I am quite sure he has paying attention to his own party's criticism in that regard. He also got much more specific with his plans than I had heard him do before, and considering the grand stage, this was the perfect time for unveil that. A couple times I found myself thinking as a speechwriter for McCain, wondering what I would extrapolate from Obama's speech, what I could use against him, and what the Republican crowd next week in Minnesota would want to hear me say against my Democratic rival. I wasn't necessarily being negative, I just know that at least 5 or 6 people in McCain's party are doing just that if not more. It will certainly be interesting next week. But last night was Obama's night, and he killed it.

There also needs to be some of comedy show that puts imaginary thought balloons on members of the audience during an event like the one we saw last night. The facial expressions on some of those audience members needed to be documented. Some were crying, some were filming, some looked downright skeptical(Go Hillary!), some looked proud, and this one man I saw in the audience, looked like he was searching for a lovely lady to bag later on that night. That was the event within the event, and my lady and I felt a bit immature for focusing on that while the great speech was going down, but hey, that's how it is. As good and on point as Obama's speech was, I got bored at points, and searched for comic relief. And you know you did too, so don't just us.

That's all for today. My son and mother will be here this weekend, and I'll be taking my son with me to flag football practice with me, so I am quite sure there will be a million and one stories to tell.

Oh and happy birthday MJ. Release some new music, work on the wardrobe, and be less creepy. That's MY wish for you. Here's my second favorite song/video of his:

Tomorrow is Mr. Michael Joseph Jackson's 50th birthday, and since the subjects I choose to write about vary so much, I figured I better get this out of the way today.

The poster you see above hung over my head in my bedroom wall from 1984-1986. I had gotten over the initial fear from the Thriller video, and I decided that I needed an MJ poster in my life. I remember being in the record store, and I told my dad that it had to Billie Jean-themed, so he got it for me. I totally ignored my dad's wish for me to wait for him to put the poster up, and I scotch taped it to the wall, as sloppily as a 9 year old can. I was so proud of myself.

Then I started to notice that as my room got darker in the evenings, the poster was way more creepier than it had been upon the initial purchase. I kept seeing MJ's beady eyes following me around the room, and it made me uncomfortable(almost as uncomfortable as it would for him to actually be in my bedroom). So one day I just upped and tore the poster down, because in my mind, he was staring at me, and he was no longer cool. But then the video for Say, Say, Say came out, and I was on the MJ bandwagon again, and I taped that poster right back on the wall. But once again, after a few days, I got creeped out all over again, and I tore it right back down.

That next year, my family moved across town, and I was faced with the decision of discarding MJ or bringing him along to terrorize me once again. Earlier that year, I had noticed that Theo had the exact same poster in his room, so maybe I should stick it out in an attempt to be cool. Ultimately, I decided to ditch that poster, and I never bought or put up another MJ poster. It did not diminish my love for his music or his dancing though. Years later, I found out that having MJ in your bedroom in any capacity is a detriment, so perhaps I was ahead of the curve.

All that being said, in my humble opinion, Billie Jean is the best song/video combo ever made in any genre, and I'd argue with anyone on that point. So on that note:

Here is the demo version of Billie Jean

Here is the regular version

And here the video is posted below. The part of this video I imitated the most in the mirror? From the 1:54 mark when he's holding his jacket, to the 2:34 mark when he comes out of a spin and ends on his toes. Great great stuff.

Oh, and Joe Biden's speech was just so-so, and doesn't warrant a review from me. Go to the Washington Post site or something. Obama saying Clinton rocked the house was funny, followed by a shot of Hillary asking Bill what "rock the house" meant. That was golden. Enough of that though..on to Michael

Michael Jackson - Billie Jean
by hushhush112

Unless I missed something, there were no epic tennis matches at the U.S. Open last night, so I had to watch Ms. Clinton's Democratic National Convention speech. Given the obstacles she was facing going in, I thought she did a bang up job. I even laughed when she made the Twin Cities/McCain and Bush are twins joke. Still, the whole convention is a glorified pep rally, and the eyes of some of those Clinton/Biden/Obama supporters were just downright scary man. But as my mother said this morning, whether you want to watch or not, you probably should, just so no one can color it when their own rose-colored glasses when they are recollecting what exactly happened. That being said, I am REALLY looking forward to Joe Biden's speech tonight, because he is liable to say something off the cuff to make me laugh and to make folks uncomfortable..that is unless the speech writing cult has reeled him in and tamed him.

I find myself wanting to run up to every pregnant woman I see, and bombard them with questions about how many months they are, do they know what the sex is, how is father holding up and all that. There are so many things that folks do not tell you about the emotional, mental and physical aspects of a 9 month pregnancy, and this has been quite a learning experience for my lady and I thus far, and there are still 5 months to go. My lady and I will definitely be writing a book about this whole thing, because I am quite sure someone else can learn from this. I said I wasn't going to be one of those people who talked about the baby and the pregnancy every day in my blog, but I am and I will, so fuck it. This is kind of a big deal.


This video came on while I was clipping my fingernails yesterday, so I thought I'd post it up in the blog. This is back when I had a crush on Faith.

Observations from last night..

-As good as Michelle Obama's speech was last night, I kept peeking at the James Blake/Donald Young U.S. Open match at the same time. I realize it was less historic and maybe a bit irresponsible of me to do that, but hey, I'm a sports fanatic, that's what I do. And the tennis played in that match was great. Not quite on that Federer/Nadal level, but it was great.

- I would absolutely love to attend an evening match at the U.S. Open in New York. The tennis is always intense, the atmosphere is perfect even it does tend to be a little warm, and the celebrities are in abundance. I remember last year seeing Jerry Seinfeld and my main man Larry David at a match. I wouldn't know how to conduct myself if I was lucky enough to sit in their presence

- I don't know about you, but if I was introducing my sibling, the way Craig Robinson introduced Michelle Obama last night, I would speak more from the heart and less from a written speech. I would do that partly because I don't do well with written speeches(I prefer an outline), and partly because I would be introducing someone that I presumably know and love, more than anyone else on the planet. As long as I sat down and outlined some talking points beforehand, I think I would try to tackle that task without reading it word for word. It just seems more genuine that way. Then again I have never spoken in front of a vast audience like that either. Perhaps I am nitpicking.

- Even a cynic had to be impressed with Ted Kennedy's presence at the Convention last night. Excuse the over-used expression, but that's a man who truly loves his country. Seriously. For him to be fighting through brain cancer, and still decided to muster the strength to speak was quite impressive. His speech was corny, but he gets the ultimate pass

- When Obama's daughters kept interrupting him last night to say "hello" and "I love you", my lady looked at me and said, "See, it wouldn't be so bad having a daughter, they would look up to you so much". And I must admit that caused me to briefly romanticize the notion of raising a young woman. Still, I prefer a son. If he comes to me and says, "Daddy what are these?" I have no problem answering that question, no matter what body part he may be referring to. If a little girl comes to me and asks that same question, it gets weird, and I will be forced to immediately redirect her inquiry to her mother. I don't make the rules, that's just how it is

Star Of A Story - Heatwave

I'm sorry to be complaining so early in the morning, but its a must at this point. When someone asks me how my weekend was, I keep things to a one sentence, three word minimum. "It was alright", "It was quiet", and sometimes I get verbose with it, and I'll say, "I had a really good time". But that's it. I do not like the multi-syllabic, long drawn out sentences, because it leads to a ridiculous amount of small talk. It is rude not to ask folks how their weekend was after they have asked you, so when I ask, it is my hope that they will take a cue from me and keep it short.

So this morning, I walked in late, and I was asked about my weekend, and I rolled out the standard, "It was quiet" canned response. I waited a good five minutes, then I mistakenly asked about her weekend..totally forgetting that folks ask you about your weekend, so they can talk about theirs. She went on and on about some family dinner, how much money she spent, how she can't stand cooking macaroni and cheese, and how tired she is. My answer was 5 seconds, hers went on for 10 minutes, and the only reason she stopped talking is that I started typing. This isn't even something she did wrong, its just a peeve of mine. Perhaps I'm being a bit anal.

I was late because I had to make my second ever trip to the gynecologist. I'm still not satisfied with the lack of male magazines there, but I heard the baby's heartbeat, so we are excited all over again. No one probably cares about this, but the heartbeat was slower than when I heard it before, so the baby is growing. Good times. I learn the sex in a few weeks, so that's even more exciting.

By the way, if you are in the MD/DC/VA area, and you know an attorney that specializes in small business law, please let me know, so I can pass the info along to my brother.

USA defeats Spain and wins the gold medal

I think I have finally found another way to make more money. I have my regular job full of crazy people, and I am assuming that one day my writings on this site, will put a bit of paper in my pocket. But I have yet another trick up my sleeve, and it all goes back to this blog entry I wrote a year and a half ago.

Lunch and dinner are delivered all the damn time, and they have bailed me out on many-a-day when I am feeling sedentary and lazy. I get no such relief at breakfast time. As I type this entry, my pregnant woman is laying in the bed waiting on me to get my lazy ass off the computer, and cook up a feast fit for a queen. I should be able to keep typing, pull a breakfast menu up online from some place, order it, keep typing some more, answer my door, and ta daaaa...breakfast. No such luck right now.

So i'm thinking I would have a business that opened at 5am and closed at 2pm. I know people like to eat breakfast all damn day long, but I just don't have faith a business can thrive that way. But I DO know however that between the hours of 5am and 2pm people want breakfast. During the week there are people who get to work and don't feel like leaving their desk, and my business would cater to them. During the weekend, there are people who have had slow, deep and sweaty sex all morning and neither party feels like getting up and going to the kitchen. With my business, they could roll over, dial my number, go back to having sex, and then boom, here I come with breakfast. Its a win-win.

Who knows if I will really follow through with this, because I am basically making this up as I go along. But it feels like it could be legit, if it doesn't exist already. In the meantime, I'll go cook something. I wonder if breakfast is under the Takeout Taxi umbrella...

One of my new co-ed flag football teammates was nice enough to give me a ride home today from practice, and while I was sitting in her car, I found myself wondering what other people think of me. When I told her I had an 11 year old son, and another on the way by two different women, I wondered if she judged me? When I explained my lady and I weren't married, but we planned to be, I wonder if she made a note in her mental chart..I wondered if she gleaned anything from me saying I was a Hampton grad. These are things that you rarely know unless you know someone long enough for them to let their true guard down. I can't say I care she think either way, because I am who I am. But I am quite curious about what new people do with the collage of images they are given upon initial contact.

Speaking of flag football, it kicked my ass in the worst way. I have played basketball over the past few months, and I have gone running, but neither one of these activities really prepare you for football. There's running fast, then stopping, there is cutting, throwing, reaching behind for the football, and other things I am surely leaving out. I am very excited about the season coming up, but I MUST work myself into shape.

I was so sore that for the first time in at least 2 or 3 years, I found myself drawing a bath(what does that mean really?) and resting my body and head in the tub. Initially I just added liquid soap to the water, then my lady came along and kicked it up a notch and made it real masculine with lavender scented bubble bath. Scoff and laugh if you want, but I am relaxed now.

Blues Traveler - Run Around

Since I started this new job back in June, there is a woman here in my office who marketed her birthday like crazy. I remember the second day I was here, she sat down in my office and said she wanted the Mission Impossible box set. If I was her friend, her man, or even her family member that would be no skin off my back, but for her to tell me that, kind of rubbed me the wrong way..but I kept quiet. Then when another member of my office had his birthday, she came and took my little $10 birthday fee for him, and then she again reminded me and everyone within earshot that she wanted that damn boxset. My annoyance meter jumped a little higher, but it still remained under control. Then, before I left for Miami, she said to me, "Be sure you contribute the $10 for my birthday", and the non-home training side of me wanted to stick my middle finger up and give her a GFY, but then I remembered I was on my way to Miami, so I smartened up.

So when I get into my office yesterday, there is an email that says thank you for my Mission Impossible gift, and she acted surprised and incredulous, like McCain and Obama had simultaneously texted her their running mate selections. My lady said this is no big deal, but I vehemently disagree. I don't mind signing cards, I can mildly tolerate birthday lunches and dessert parties, but I do NOT like being steered when it comes to giving gift to coworkers. Its manipulative, wrong and a tad bit desperate in my meaningless opinion. Then she tried to lure me into her web, by asking me what I would want for my birthday and I said, "Straight cash homie".

One other work complaint. The following conversation ocurred at 2:30 pm yesterday with my officemate:

Her: Have you heard of RuPaul?
Me: Yes
Her: Have you seen him dressed as a man?
Me: Yes
Her: (turning her computer screen): Well have you seen this picture?
Me: (not looking up): Nah I'm good
Her: no, you really should look at this picture, he looks terrible
Me: I gotta tell you, I'm really not all that pressed to see RuPaul, especially he looks as bad you say
Her: Ok, but he really looks terrible
**At this point she went on and on to herself(or me I don't know) for a good 10 minutes about RuPaul**

I am going to document this, and put it in my why-I-need-my-own-office-file that is quite sizable at this point. And if anyone in my office is reading this, I apologize that you rolled up on my displeasure like this. But this is how I feel. I like this woman, but I would love to like her from afar.

Gilbert Arenas - Reality TV Star?

My father first turned me on to track and field back in 1984, about a few months prior to the 1984 Olympics. We were living in Newtown, CT (the home of track star Bruce Jenner aka the clueless stepfather of Kim Kardasshian), and not only was I running track for the first time, I was watching and learning about the main players in the main events. Back then it was all about Carl Lewis, Evelyn Ashford, Daley Thompson, a steroid-free Flo Jo and Jackie Joyner-Kersee.. Back then I ran the 100, the 200, the 400 and I did the long jump, and I wasn't too shabby, regardless of whether I won or loss my dad was right there.

Since then I have watched 6 Olympic games, attended numerous indoor and outdoor track meets, and ran the 200 and the 400 in high school. For the events I attended and participated in, my father was right there talking strategy with me like he was my own personal Bela Karoyli. For the ones we watched on the telly, he would do the same, and then we'd talk about who would win, would the record be broken and things of that nature. Not many people I know are into track and field during a non-Olympic year, so its refreshing to talk to him about this.

I say all this to say that last night after watching Usain Bolt just obliterate Michael Johnson's 200 meter record, I called my dad to talk about it, and he didn't answer the phone. In fact, my brother had been calling him all day to tell him about our cousin passing away, and he didn't answer the phone then. My lady told me not to worry, and for the most part I am not, but it is just odd that we didn't talk afterwards. So this entry, or at least the first part of it, is my way of calming myself down. Hopefully he'll call this morning.

So I don't end on a depressing note, if McCain is dumb enough to pick this goofy lookin fella as his running mate, then he is a jackass. He'd only be doing it to pick up the votes that Obama is losing because Clinton is not the nominee, but still its dumb. And to offset that, Obama should chose Clinton, despite the fact that his people would kill him for it. That's my opinion. Sadly, Obama has to pick his running mate first because of the timing of the Democratic National Convention, so its unlikely that he'll be bold enough to do this.

The United States defeats Australia

I was feeling like dirt today, so I stayed home. I almost didn't blog at all, and then about 5 minutes ago, I saw the woman in the picture above come across my television screen. Why are people still calling her ugly? I still don't get it.

That's all I got today, tomorrow I will be back to "normal".

Fay's attempts to keep me grounded in Miami an extra day failed miserably, and I am now back in the comforts of my own semi-cushy apartment. The weather here in DC is sunny, warm and beautiful, as opposed to the rain and wind of Miami. I am not bitter at all, we had a great vacation, and now I am ready to resume with real life.

To ease the transition from vacation to real life, my apartment complex has decided to reward me with a new, non-leaky refrigerator. Exciting stuff isn't? Five minutes after I walked in from the airport, I had to empty my fridge of food, drink, condiments, and of course the lovely magnets. As I am typing this entry, three building maintenance men are in here wondering why I am staring at them intently. I am looking at them wondering why it takes three of them to do this damn job. I trust all of them enough to go back in my room until they are done, but I trust them more if they are in my face speaking Spanish at a 90mph clip.

I miss Miami..I miss it bad. Especially that baller ass room I was in..My lady and I gave serious thought to how we would negotiate a move down there. But it wouldn't really be for us, it would be strictly for the new baby, who deserves a warm, tropical life. Speaking of the baby, my lady is showing noticeably, and I see men and women staring at her stomach. The reactions are typically the same. First they smile at her stomach, then look at her face and smile, and then they look over at me, and I have a middle finger waiting for them(kidding). But it is nice to see folks react to the bundle of joy that is on its way.

I suspect I am rambling badly. I shall put this entry out of its misery, and go back to apartment staff watching.

My last day in Miami will be spent in the hotel room watching the Olympics. Its rainy, its windy, no one is on the road, no one is on the beach. I could read my book, I can begin to tackle this fine bottle red wine that sits just to the right of my laptop, or I could lay in bed and just continue to watch this USA/Japan soccer match. No complaining though, I'll just appreciate as much of the scenery around here while I can.

Today is my father's 58th birthday, so if you see him on the street somewhere, show him some love. He's only about 5'6 though, so you may have to work hard to find him.

Don Henley - The Boys of Summer..the ultimate end of the summer/vacation song:

When I was about 5 or 6 I was thrown into the water during a pool party, and I very nearly drowned. I have taken swim lessons since then, but I don't do too well with them because as soon as I lose any semblance of control, I start to panic and I want to get the hell out of the water. I am not scared of many things, but the pool/ocean definitely shakes me the hell up and always has.

In the past 24 hours, I have cleared two mental hurdles that have me feeling a little better about this water phobia. I went deeper in the ocean than I ever had before and I felt pretty damn good about it. The sea was angry because of the upcoming hurricane, so not only was I in deep waters, but the waves were high, and I was being knocked around. Still, I held my own.

And last night, around 1am, I went to the hotel pool and had swim by myself. Sure there was one other couple out there basically having sex in the water, but they were paying me no mind as I flailed around in the water solo. I still don't like going in deep water, and I certainly won't be entering any swim competitions, but this a start.

No nudity on the beach today. Just some clown ass dudes with a video camera filming every woman in sight..this one dude tried to film my woman, and I sat right about, and said some confrontational shit, although no one paid me any attention. Five minutes later, I realized this dude had about 8 other bros with him, which meant I would have caught the beat down of life had I tried to fight. Still, he must have got the point, because he kept the camera away from her. As creepy as it can be, I don't mind someone videotaping breasts and ass on the beach..but you can't do that if that if some one's woman or man is sitting right there. Or maybe I'm being naive who knows..

I'm rambling...

And since it is Sunday, I will end the blog with an inspirational word from Eddie Murphy:

It is not an unusual sight to see women topless while on the beaches of Miami. Even though there is a sign that says no nudity, that is enforced as much as the no alcohol sign. Most of the women here just take of their tops while sunbathing, but others actually get up and go to the ocean sans their top. I would say that 90% of the women going topless are B cups or smaller, so they aren't impressing anyone with their nudity. My lady has given me permission to look, but not stare at this women, and I do so in a tasteful fashion.

Today, about 2 feet from where my lady and i were sitting, there was a woman who decided to go topless. She had recently had a baby, so her breasts were at least a D cup, maybe bigger, She just took her top off, and had them all out, and my lady and I noticed. This type of display makes life difficult for me. She was right in my field of vision, so when I tried to look out somewhere, there were big ass breasts in my face. My lady would look at me every now and then to make sure I wasn't staring, and I wasn't, but I mean damn. And at one point, she had the nerve to rub lotion on them, like she was in her bedroom...if I were here solo, I'd look and take pictures...but it wasn't, so it sucked.


There is a hurricane coming to Miami on Sun night/Monday morning..I might have to leave early. But I'm not complaining.

Oh and this 41 year old U.S. swimmer, Dana Torres who won the silver medal tonight, is on a performance enhancing drug. It'll come out one day.

So today I am chilling at Wet Willies, which is a fine establishment in Miami that serves insanely strong alcoholic beverages. The bartender just happened to be from DC, so my lady and I were sitting there talking with her about DC and how its changed over the past 9 years. Just then, I look over about 4 seats down, and I notice Vanessa Simmons. For those of you who don't know who she is, she is Run's daughter, and they are cast members from the great Run's House show that comes on MTV. I started to say something to her, but that would have violated my own personal rule of speaking and being friendly to stars who are younger than me. So I just glanced down there, drank my drink, and rolled out. That story had so much potential, but alas, that's all I have.

No rain today, just sunshine, heat and plenty of water.

Yesterday while my son and I were in Chik-fil-A, a teenager came into the store, and he looked like he was dressed for work. He had on a short sleeved shirt, a tie and slacks. I told my son to take a good look at this guy, and to never, ever dress like that. He asked me why, and I told him not to ask questions and to just do it. I hope he got the message.

I am here in Miami, and it it raining like nobody's business, so my naked romp on the beach has been postponed for a few hours.

On the airplane, I sat next to this guy who dug in his nose with one finger for about 10 minutes, then volleyed his nose findings around on his finger trying to find a home for it. And his arms were hairy..

this is not a good start so far..but...

we lucked up and got a baller ass penthouse room in this hotel. So if any of you people are in Miami, just call or email, and you can come up to our penthouse and do it real big with us. Bring your own liquor though.

Yet another great visit with my son. Not a lot to say, I just have pictures...

Here is my son tearing up some Chik-Fil-A..like father, like son



Here is young Carlton in front of the creepy Dark Knight Poster..



Here he is in the Air and Space Museum looking at the model planes..



Here we are minutes before Batman starts, bored out of our damn minds..by the way, Maggie Gyllenhaal is way scarier on the IMAX screen than she was on the regular movie screen..



Saying goodbye...

My son Carlton turns 11 years old tomorrow, and as is our annual ritual, I called him and asked him what he wanted. I told him to give me five things he wanted with the first item being something he knew he was going to get and number five was to be something that was a stretch, but still a possibility. I do this to not only teach him a lesson, but to help me figure out what the hell to get him. I know I am getting him a Clinton Portis jersey, which kills me as an Eagles fan, but I'll get over it.

So when I reached my son last night, his list was as follows:
1) 2 Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Books
2) A subscription to ESPN the Magazine
3) A movie (apparently of my choice because he did not specify which one)

I said Carlton, I gave you 2 weeks to think about this, and this is all you came up with, and he said yes Daddy. Selfishly speaking, my wallet certainly does not mind spending what will add up to less than $100 on his gift. But he clearly has not learned the art of testing your parents to see what they will do. Plus I am the non-custodial parent, which means he could conceivably guilt me into buying an extravagant gift(not bloody likely). Then I thought his shyness in the gift department could be attributed to his mother constantly shooting down his requests for financial reasons. Who knows what the reasoning is, but when I get down there tomorrow we will have yet another talk.

So since I am off work the rest of the week, today is technically my Friday, so does that mean I could have worn jeans? Women can wear jeans when its raining hard, why can't I wear them on my personal Friday?

Cherokee - Clifford Brown

I am 90% sure no one will really care about this entry, but me, its on my mind, so I am writing it.

I last got a haircut on July 29th, and it was a great one if I may say so myself. Usually I would get another one about 10 days later, which would have been right around Thursday or Friday or so of last week. But I'm headed to Miami on Thursday morning for a vacation, and it is absolutely imperative that I have the fresh cut, as opposed to rocking the Ron Artest. I have too much respect for myself, and my lady and my unborn child would surely leave and disown me.

But the problem is, in order for me to have that fresh haircut I so desire, I have to wait until the day before I leave for Miami to get it, which is Wednesday. So my beard is looking like this and I am dangerously close to an Artestian haircut. I thought about getting a shape up to hold me over, but who wants to pay $15(including tip) only to turn around and pay $23(including tip once again) just a few days later. That's ridiculous...or so I thought. I'm still two days away from the barber, and I feel like I've been stuck on an island for 2 months.

Adding to this problem, is the fact that I have switched barbers for the 2nd time in 2 years. I found a barber that is 5 minutes from my apartment, and that my friends is golden. My old barber is about 30 minutes away from me, and between getting back and forth, and watching him waste time, it was a 2 hour ordeal. Now I can just walk to the barber and walk home without any problem. But my new barber hasn't been faced with the "I'm going out of town" haircut yet, and I am worried that he may not be up to the challenge. My old barber passed this test over and over, so I never had any worries. I think I'll be ok. I can always cut all my hair(beard included)if he messes up..although I think this is in direct violation of the all black men must have facial hair movement. I'm rambling horribly.

Another Day - Branford Marsalis featuring Frank McComb

USA vs China Recap

A few years ago, a baseball player named Rafael Palmeiro, had to testify before Congress about whether he had ever used steroids. There were other players who were up there testifying with him, but it was Palmeiro's testimony that stuck out the most. He emphatically pointed to each member of Congress, and said that he had never taken any type of performance enhancing drugs. About a year later, not only did he test positive for drugs, but he tested positive for steroids, not the Human Growth Hormone (HGH) that so many other baseball players were taking, because it was hard to detect via test. When Palmeiro got busted, all the media outlets, referred back to his vehement denial, and it just made him look stupid.

This is what I thought of when I see video of John Edwards denying that he had an affair, just a few weeks ago. Not only did he deny any wrongdoing, but he got smart with the woman who was bold enough to ask a question, he had already answered many times over. So then a few weeks later, you not only admit you were lying, but you tell the world your family knew, and you want forgiveness. Much like Palmeiro above, he should have just come out and admitted it when first asked. Sure he would be slammed, but he'd get sympathy points, he'd be on Oprah, and he'd be back in the saddle in no time. As it stands right now, he's fucked, and again, much like Palmeiro, he may never get his good name back.

I really didn't want to write about that, but I figured if I peppered in a sports analogy, it wouldn't be as tiresome as it is when reported by the big media outlets.

Other Sunday observations:

-David Gregory is hosting Meet the Press today, someone read my blog, and heard my pleas

-I have stayed up until 3am the past two days, watching Big Brother After Dark. I am addicted.

- Even though I am scared of the water, I need to start swimming man. I am a straight man, but when I look at the physiques of some of these swimmer, I realize I have work to do.

And finally, here an excellent video by Gnarls Barkley, entitled, "Who's Gonna Save My Soul"

I am knee deep in these Olympic games today, so I don't have a whole lot to say or write. But I can honestly say that before this morning, I had no clue that badminton was an Olympic sport. There was a huge crowd gathered around to see two men hitting a shuttlecock with reckless abandon. I am not making fun of these men at all, but I am curious about what they do in non-Olympic years..

Now i'm watching beach volleyball being played indoors..good times indeed.

Each and every day when I wake up, I try to do my very best to observe the rules of chivalry. I do believe some of them are outdated, but there are others that are still very much relevant. I let the woman get out of the elevator or off the train first. I ask old ladies if they need help carrying things that seem to be struggling with, and every now and then I rescue homeless men from oncoming cars. I do this, not because I expect anything in return, but my mother raised me the correct way and she taught me how to conduct myself.

All that being said, yesterday my lady and I were headed into the drugstore. As we were getting ready to go in, a woman who looked to be about 25-30 was coming out. She had a tiny bag in her hand, and she was walking pretty fast. My lady paused a bit and waited for me to open the door, and I did so, and then I motioned for the other lady to come thru the door first, before my lady and I entered. She came through the door, and kept right on walking, without saying as much as thank you.

At first I was going to let it slide, and not bitch about it to my lady, but I simply do not have it in me to let things go. So I started bitching about her not saying thank you, and how wrong it was, and how many women have done that to me in the past. My lady said she could not relate on any level, because when someone holds the door for her or does something polite, she always says thank you(which is why she's my girlfriend). It isn't difficult to say thank you when someone does something polite. It requires little eye contact, you don't even have to say it loud, and it just makes everyone(most importantly me) feel good. One would could argue that I am supposed to hold the door for a lady, to which I would respond, you are supposed to say thank you. Its not hard.

This weekend is going to be incredible, and even though the weather is going to be off the charts, I really can't see myself leaving for much of anything. The Olympics, baseball and preseason football will occupy my entire weekend, and I cannot wait. I suggest you watch them too. Despite what recent developments have told you, there IS more to sports than Brett Favre.

Uninvited - Alanis Morissette

This isn't really an article..more like coming attractions if you're a Washington Wizards fan. Here it is.

The other day I was discussing dogs, and the way people treat them, and I realized that I did not come completely clean with my relationship with dogs in the past. And I know I am getting long in the tooth, because I cannot remember whether I typed this story via the blog, or I just told someone recently. So if you've read or heard this story before, just suck it up.

My grandmother had a dog named Butch (don't ask). If I was a bit more canine savvy, I could tell you what kind of dog he was and all that jazz. Instead I have to call upon our large pool of dog celebrities for comparison's sake. Butch looked similar to Lassie, except he was all white, with flecks of black. My grandmother went out and got Butch after my grandfather died suddenly in his sleep in 1978. She lived alone in East Cleveland (home of the Bone, the Thugs, and of course the Harmony), and she felt much safer with the companionship of Butch.

So the year was 1985, and I was 10 years old, and my brother and I spent an extended period of time over my grandmother's house. We had Tonka trucks and handheld football games, but our primary source of entertainment was this poor unsuspecting Butch. Clearly this was before cable television..in fact my grandmother died in 2004, and she STILL had no cable...I digress.

So one day I happened to be in my grandmother's room looking for a flashlight, and Butch just followed me in there. It was late at night, and my grandmother needed me to go in the dark attic, so I most definitely needed the aid of a light..aka I was scared of the dark. While in her room I turned on the flashlight, and immediately Butch went crazy, and ran after the light from the flashlight shining on the wall. I laughed, and then a light of my very own went off in my head. I closed the door of my grandmother's bedroom, and I swear I flashed that flashlight on every inch of grandmother's room. This was way better than watching a dog chase its tail. Butch was running all over the room, knocking down my grandmother's perfume, jumping all on the bed, attempting to scale the wall, barking like intruders were attacking him left and right, and at no point did he realize that I was the mastermind and the cause of his angst.

After about 15-20 minutes or so, I got bored and finally went up to the haunted attic. Butch barked at no one in particular for another 15 minutes, then he took his tired thirsty ass to the water bowl, and all was normal again. I don't remember if my brother got in on this action, but I remember I did not get in trouble.

Good times.

Brandy - The O'Jays
So this song is relevant to this entry for two reasons. First of all, this song is about a damn dog. Secondly this song sung by a cousin of my grandmother's (and mine) who was in the O'Jays (Mr. Walter Williams)

I know you strive for symmetry in your blogs, and hopefully I delivered

Read this article on the USA Olympic Basketball team.

I have mixed feelings about the concept of flip flopping when it comes to my politicians, specifically presidential candidates. On one hand I feel like with that amount of power, it should not be difficult to make an educated guess based on the information that the people around you have found. If I had to speak in front of a group of millions of Americans two and three times a week, you bet your ass I am going to thorough, so I don't look like a fool.

But on the flip side, if I do make a decision or take a stance on a controversial issue, and I find that later on down the road, that situations have changed, I am not going to be stubborn. I would gather those same people around me, and impress upon them that we MAY need to regroup and rethink our original stance. Then, when I made my speech to the American people, I would say this is how I thought it was, this is how it is, and now changes will be made ASAP. That's not about flip flopping or being indecisive, its about making adjustments and being flexible. Coaches do it at halftimes of games all the time, and they are consider geniuses..why can't politicians and presidents be given that same opportunity?

I'm not even saying that Obama and McCain aren't flip flopping on certain things, because they may be doing just that. Still, they get the benefit of the doubt right now..once the one-on-one debates start, and people start playing close attention to their policies, then it will really be on...

By the way, the perfect song to play as you're walking, working out, or on your way into your place of employment is this one..at least for me it is. It makes me feel both invincible and diabolical, like a cartoon villain, and it also provokes a tad bit of confrontational behavior in me. These are all tools you need not only in life, but in the work place. You don't believe me? Then tell my why this man used to come out to the aforementioned song before he walked into his place of business?

Who are these people who wake up in the morning, and decide they want to run miles and miles with their dog by their side? I certainly understand dogs need a certain degree of exercise, but there are other options available to insure this gets done: You walk your dog to an open field, take it off the leash, let it run around until it gets tired, then you take it back home, and put it back in the house. Then you can go running for 26 miles, and your dog can get back to what it really wants to do anyway, which is sleep. Instead, these people run all over the place, while the dog struggles to keep up with his tongue hanging and spread out like red carpet. I could see if this were the Iditarod, where dogs run for miles and miles in snow and biting cold temperatures. But its not, so give the dogs a break. Otherwise, they'll turn on you in the middle of the night. I know this for a fact.

I need to do some research as to whether there is maternity leave for men at my company or in general. It is just as important that I get to see all of the wonderful feats of strength my baby will accomplish during the first three just like my lady will. Plus who knows if she will need help or a break or something, and if I am at work saving the world, that just cannot happen. Or, even better, after her maternity leave is expired, I could take paid leave and play daddy for three months, and then send the child to daycare after 6 months. That would be ideal and everyone wins. Of course I sincerely doubt that something like that is in place, which means I would have to be trailblazer and spend a fortune in court fees trying to make this happen.

If you all would be so nice as to go this site, put in your name and email address, and then vote my blog in the best personal blog category. I didn't start writing this blog to win any low budget accolades, but dammit I think this is within reach, so I want to win. If all 14 of you vote, then that's a start. And if you need to create an alias or two, then by golly do what you need to do.

I got nothing today. I tossed and turned all night, came into work an hour late, I had to ignore the urge to call off, considering Miami is just 10 days away. So I'm here at work, and my mood is not quite miserable, but its dangerously close. But instead of bitching and moaning for 2 or 3 paragraphs, I'll just post up a happy picture I took yesterday of my nephew watching the replay of the Cotto/Margarito fight. Apparently my nephew is a big boxing fan. As long as he's watching and not doing this, I'm fine with that. Here it is:

When you live with your lady the way I do it is rare that you get an entire day to yourself in the house. Sometime I get home before her and I have a hour or two here and there, but an entire day alone is rare, and that is the situation I find myself in today. I had a laundry list of items to accomplish today: write two articles, shred some old bills, go play basketball, call my son, and that was it. Exciting stuff right?

Well I have done absolutely nothing today. I ate leftover pizza, I watched this fight, I watched that fight, I played around on the internet, and I watched/analyzed some adult videos. I got nothing accomplished, and even now I am blogging instead of being responsible...oh well.

My dad could not stop smiling yesterday when I told him a baby was on the way. He didn't pressure me to get married or question my decision-making skills, he just said congrats and he couldn't wait. That made me smile too

I'm not a big fan of Lil Wayne or Lloyd but the song I am going to post below has successfully gotten to me, and I can't stop playing it

I have been wanting to write this particular entry for awhile now, but I was told I had to wait until the right time. Well this is now the right time, and I have the green light to discuss it.

My lady is 3 months pregnant, and we are both very excited. The due date right now is February 14, although these things change, so I'm not attaching myself to that date. This came as a bit of a surprise, but we are both ready for this, and it is going to be fun. Yes it'll be hard work too, but what isn't these days? And for you righteous, nosy people, marriage is still very much in the works, so kiss my ass.

It is going to be weird for me having two kids 11 years apart. Very weird. I feel like an old(er) man. I tell my father about this in about 2 hours, and I think of all the people I have to tell, he is the person who I am the most nervous about. I know he'll be supportive, and I know he'll give me things to think about too..that's what parents do. My mother was happy, and asking about marriage, but I expect that from a minister. I didn't tell her to kiss my ass, I just told her to be patient (kiss my ass).

I'm still several weeks away from knowing the sex of the baby, but last Wed I was able to see my child jumping around in the ultrasound and that was a surreal experience. I missed out on all of these things with my first son, so there is no way in hell that I am missing anything if I can help it. I need all of you to pray for a healthy baby first and foremost, and then specifically pray for a boy. I'm counting on you.

I'm sure I'll be talking about this more during the coming months.

There is a woman I work with who commutes from Woodbridge, Virginia to Washington DC each and every morning. When there is no traffic, that is about a 25 minute drive, but during rush hour that can take an hour if not longer. In an effort to both save on gas, this woman doesn't drive, but rather she waits in a designated area for someone to pick her up, and then they all ride into DC together. This lady told me that sometimes there are four strangers in one car. After the initial "hello" and "where are you headed?" there is NO communication. Some folks read books, others listen to their ipods, some just go to sleep, but they are all saving gas and helping the environment. Whoopty damn doo.

While I commend their efforts, there is NO way that I am sharing a car with three strangers in silence. As much as I hate small talk, I would force everyone to get some kind of conversation about something jumping. You mean to tell me I am risking life and limb to transport your environment saving ass to work, and you can't at least humor on how hideous Ann Curry dresses on the Today Show, or about the Manny Ramirez trade..or how Kwame Kilpatrick is messing up in Detroit? Come on now.

And although I am not quite as environment conscious as say, this person, I do definitely care about preserving this beautiful nation of ours..just not in a crowded car with silence. So my solution would be to take the train. I can ride in silence for a reasonable fair. I can listen to my music, read the paper and sleep without having to worry about whether I am pissing off the conductor. And, if I'm lucky, I'll some sort of confrontation or run-in to write about once I arrive at work. What's messing with that?

By the way, if I didn't work at the Department of Justice, I would dazzle you all with a sexy string of expletives that would make George Carlin gasp and blush in his grave. But alas, I have to censor myself. Perhaps I'll start just saving it for the weekend. I can talk some jive though. Speaking of talking jive..I present to you a scene from the movie The Royal Tennenbaums: