PETA Makes The Naughty List

[caption id="attachment_357" align="aligncenter" width="370" caption="PETA Makes The Naughty List"][/caption]

Random Rant Nov 30

Two thoughts weighing heavily on my mind that I need to get out:

1) If I ever see the WikiLeaks guy, I'm fucking him up on sight.
2) What the hell is wrong with North Korea.

First....

I'm trying to do my part and invest in some fledgling stocks...mainly the banking industry. I know it's risky, but if things turn around one could make a huge gain. Just as things are getting better, jackass from Wikileaks comes back with his "announcement" that he'll publish documents from "one of the biggest banks in the US." Could you be any less specific? He made that announcement over a year ago. Why the hell are you still talking about what you're gonna do? You're messing with my money and playing with my money is like playing with my emotions. So...if I ever see him, Imma bust his head to the white meat. Imma go Kim Jong-Il on his ass.

Speaking of which...

What the hell is wrong with North Korea...making it rain on those people over in South Korea. You got beef with your neighbor? Fine. I get that. My neighbors get on my damned nerves too. But dude, watch your mouth when grown folks are talking. You don't talk to Mama Liberty (America) like that. I'm not super patriotic, but I am aware of my surroundings and Lil Kim, trust me when I tell you that you don't wanna mess with these crazy ass people over here.

Lil Kim Jong has been real big with his, "We got nukes" chest puffing. On behalf of Barack, I have this to say: Whatever you about to discover, we off that. We started this nuke thing. You are threatening a country where people kill each other over tennis shoes and puffy coats. Do you know the type of ass whooping you'll get if you so much as light a bottle rocket facing our direction?

Go back to your little fort, listen to your iPod and re-evaluate your life, man. Have a frappucino or a slurpee or something.

If You're Thinkin Bout My God, It Don't Matter If You're Black or White

Is it just me or do White and Black people have two totally different concepts of God? I think the overall "jist" of God is the same (loves people, hears prayers, etc) but the physical and intrinsic characteristics draw a stark contrast. Lemme give you some examples:

White God can hear.
Walk by any White church on a Sunday morning and you won't hear a peep from inside.  That's strange too because they tend to have rather large congregations. To the contrary, Black churches can be heard from a block away. Doesn't matter if there are only four members in the church, you can hear a guitar, organ, drums and tambourine as soon as you enter the same zip code. 

This leads me to my theory that Black God suffers from mild hearing loss. You have to shout to get His attention and I'll even go so far as to say that He has a mild case of ADD. That's the best explanation I have for people shouting, dancing, running around the church and perculating. I assume it's to keep Him interested. Meanwhile, White God seems to be cool with a simple (and quiet) "Dear Lord." Some even speculate that you can actually pray to him silently. I'm guessing that prayers come to him on some kind of big screen tv with subtitles/ closed-captioning.

Black God is from the streets.
White God doesn't require you to converse with Him in the King's English, but it seems to be the lexicon of choice for White parishioners. And even if they don't speak perfect English, the way that they talk to God seems more casual and direct. "Lord, please watch over us. Amen."

Talking to Black God is like walking up to Goldie or something. First, you have the signifying. You don't just say, "Hey God, what's up." You have to approach Him and let him know that you know that he knows that he's the man. "Lord, we know that you were there with Daniel in the lion's den. You are an awesome God. When I rose this morning, I didn't have no doubt..." It's almost like you're introducing Him at the Apollo. "He hails from heaven. He is the inspiration behind the best selling book, THE BIBLE. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the Father, Son and the Holy Ghooooooost!"

Black God's street cred isn't just fueled by the lingo, it's where Black God lives. White churches tend to be very nice, pristine places. I'm not saying that Black God doesn't have some nice places, but his brand image is diluted by some of the "other" places he lives. Black God is kinda like the dude on Grand Theft Auto. You start out with crappy houses when the game begins, but then you upgrade over time. No different with Black God. He's the original hustler and moves his product in any locale. You have your hole in the wall churches, the store front churches, the shacks that were leftover from the Underground Railroad, basement churches, rec centers and I even saw an old gas station converted into a church.

Now, when he does buy a nice place, he decks that joint out. ATM's, bowling alleys, huge jumbotrons. He lets his people walk around with iPads and s-curls. He takes care of his peoples.

Now I don't mean to say that I think either side is right. Both sides will probably say I'm going to hell for this. I just like to share my observations.

If You're Thinkin Bout My God, It Don't Matter If You're Black or White

Is it just me or do White and Black people have two totally different concepts of God? I think the overall "jist" of God is the same (loves people, hears prayers, etc) but the physical and intrinsic characteristics draw a stark contrast. Lemme give you some examples:

White God can hear.
Walk by any White church on a Sunday morning and you won't hear a peep from inside.  That's strange too because they tend to have rather large congregations. To the contrary, Black churches can be heard from a block away. Doesn't matter if there are only four members in the church, you can hear a guitar, organ, drums and tambourine as soon as you enter the same zip code. 

This leads me to my theory that Black God suffers from mild hearing loss. You have to shout to get His attention and I'll even go so far as to say that He has a mild case of ADD. That's the best explanation I have for people shouting, dancing, running around the church and perculating. I assume it's to keep Him interested. Meanwhile, White God seems to be cool with a simple (and quiet) "Dear Lord." Some even speculate that you can actually pray to him silently. I'm guessing that prayers come to him on some kind of big screen tv with subtitles/ closed-captioning.

Black God is from the streets.
White God doesn't require you to converse with Him in the King's English, but it seems to be the lexicon of choice for White parishioners. And even if they don't speak perfect English, the way that they talk to God seems more casual and direct. "Lord, please watch over us. Amen."

Talking to Black God is like walking up to Goldie or something. First, you have the signifying. You don't just say, "Hey God, what's up." You have to approach Him and let him know that you know that he knows that he's the man. "Lord, we know that you were there with Daniel in the lion's den. You are an awesome God. When I rose this morning, I didn't have no doubt..." It's almost like you're introducing Him at the Apollo. "He hails from heaven. He is the inspiration behind the best selling book, THE BIBLE. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the Father, Son and the Holy Ghooooooost!"

Black God's street cred isn't just fueled by the lingo, it's where Black God lives. White churches tend to be very nice, pristine places. I'm not saying that Black God doesn't have some nice places, but his brand image is diluted by some of the "other" places he lives. Black God is kinda like the dude on Grand Theft Auto. You start out with crappy houses when the game begins, but then you upgrade over time. No different with Black God. He's the original hustler and moves his product in any locale. You have your hole in the wall churches, the store front churches, the shacks that were leftover from the Underground Railroad, basement churches, rec centers and I even saw an old gas station converted into a church.

Now, when he does buy a nice place, he decks that joint out. ATM's, bowling alleys, huge jumbotrons. He lets his people walk around with iPads and s-curls. He takes care of his peoples.

Now I don't mean to say that I think either side is right. Both sides will probably say I'm going to hell for this. I just like to share my observations.

Beyonce the HomeWrecker

The Beyonce special is on TV and the wife is watching. If one of us were a different gender then this wouldn't be a problem, but my wife is a woman and I'm a man. That means that there's tension already. You have no idea what I'm going through right now.

Women--even her biggest fans--hate Beyonce. It's like they're all agents and she's Neo from the Matrix. She represents the anomaly, the unexplained occurrence that pisses them the hell off. Take my wife for example: After the concert she said, "That bitch is perfect. I couldn't find one flaw on her ass."

Women exist in the realm of "Beauty, talent, success: Pick one." Beyonce is Neo and they have to kill that broad. LOL So here I am in the house listening to my wife saying stuff like, "I find comfort in the fact that she'll be thirty before me." I have to walk the tightrope of watching the show that my wife wants to see without falling victim to the siren's song. I have to look interested in the show, without looking interested in Beyonce.

I failed horribly the last time we played this game. I took her to a Beyonce concert and unfortunately we had pretty good seats. She came out half naked and I kept my composure. I swear to God she looked at me like five times and I kept my cool. But then she lifted up on some wires and landed on a satellite stage a few feet away from us and I got to see her up close and personal and that was just it.

Time slowed down. It was like that Rick James sketch on Dave Chappelle. No lie, I saw Beyonce's aura. I looked in her eyes and it was a rap. I love my wife to death, but at that moment in time, I couldn't tell you what her name was if you offered me a million dollars. My wife caught me gawking and although she "gave me a pass" I haven't stopped hearing about it since. (Secretly, that shit was worth it. That woman is fucking gorgeous.)

Anyway, I'm trying to do better this go round, so when she asks stupid questions like, "What do you think of that outfit she has on," I know to just say something like, "I wouldn't let our daughter go out in something like that, I don't care how much money she made." Deflection, my good friends...it is the cornerstone to a happy marriage.

God damn you Beyonce for trying to break up my shit.

Happy Thanksgiving!

People go through all kinds of phases before finally coming to rest in the seat of their own wisdom. I'm sure that there are a lot of people out there who hate holidays. I'm no exception, because I used to be one of those people.

For a long time I saw Thanksgiving as just another lie agreed upon that benefits the food, travel and retail industries. I didn't celebrate it for a couple of years as some sort of protest. Now, I see things a little differently.

Sidebar:
That Folgers Coffee commercial just came on. The son comes home early in the morning and wakes the whole family with the aroma from a fresh pot of coffee and the mom and dad jump out of bed like, "He's here." The guy gives his sister a gift and she takes the bow off and places it on his shirt saying, "You are my gift."

I think that drives home the whole point, but not in the cliched warm and fuzzy way that you may think. Imagine the backstory on this guy: Maybe he's starting out in his own career and hasn't been home in forever. He doesn't call because he's trying to start his own life and when you're young, the more distance you put between you and where you started, the more you feel free--a necessary thing for personal growth.

So anyway, the dude probably didn't really want to go home. Maybe his family felt dejected because they didn't see him that much...like he forgot about them. The people at his job kept talking about the holidays, the stores he frequents put up decorations for Thanksgiving the day after labor day and now he feels obligated to go.

My grandfather died a month or so ago and even though we weren't really close or affectionate when I was growing up, he always seemed so excited to see me during the last year or two of his life. I felt weird when I realized that I had that much value to someone. It also made me feel kind of bad to realize that my not coming around was essentially the same as denying someone a present that cost me nothing.

So, back to young Johnny (whatever the guy's name is in the commercial). If you cast aside the history of the holidays (and the money that companies make off them) and just take them at face value, they aren't really that bad. I can't hate the fact that people have agreed upon a day where despite whatever is going on in your life at that moment, you have to drop everything and fulfill that promissory note that you took out years ago when you first allowed someone to love you. There's no shame in paying it back with your presence at the table or gathering around the tree.

So Happy Thanksgiving to everyone...from the guy who used to think that it was stupid.

I'm thankful for the insight that tells me just how much of a good thing I've got going with my life.

Spice Up Your Life

I just watched a segment on the news talking about (ahem)

THE DANGERS OF NUTMEG!

Apparently there are videos on Youtube teaching kids to smoke nutmeg and that has become the new fear-flavor of the week. First, nutmeg has been used as a drug for a minute. I learned about that watching the Malcolm X movie as a kid. Did I run out and try to do it? Hell no. I didn't even know what was going on and my mother explained it in the usual dismissive Black parent tone.
"Why did he give him nutmeg?"
"People get high of that sometimes. Now be quiet, we're in the theater."

Now they're talking about trying to figure out if there should be some registry you have to get on in order to buy nutmeg, similar to the whole Sudafed thing. My question: Why are we constantly trying to save people from themselves? I'm all for putting safety caps on top of the Triaminic bottle to keep little kids from OD'ing, but once you pass twelve I don't really give a damn what you do.

If you want to go out and buy a treasure chest of Sudafed to build a meth lab, knock yourself out. When you blow up in the process, I just hope none of your neighbors die with you. If you want to smoke nutmeg, K12 or pop rocks...knock yourself out! Why do I have to now show ID to buy sinus medicine?

I personally believe that part of the problem with society is that we're trying to steal nature's job. Sometimes survival of the fittest helps in population control. If you're too stupid to know that smoking seasonings or playing chemist with a GED is bad then we don't really need you. Heaven forbid you reproduce and raise another dimwitted child.

People are stupid.

Where the Hell Have I Been?

So where the hell have I been?

I know my loyal reader (whoever you are) out there was ready to send out a search party. Fear not...I'm back. My computer crashed, my grandfather died, I've been fixing up my grandmother's house and just about anything else that could happen, happened. But, I'm back and man have I got a lot to talk about.

First off...I got a new computer.

Yes dear friends, your boy is now "bougie" on a whole 'nother level...I got a Macbook. Personally, I never felt glam enough to even go in the Apple Store, but after resuscitating my windows laptops (plural) over and over for the past two years, I finally put some money in Steve Jobs' plate.

Now that I've joined the cult, I must say that I am loving the new life. I have been through maybe five Windows PCs in as many years and it was quite the experience to boot this baby up and it just came the hell on. There was no "Would you like to activate your free trial of Norton/ Corel Picture/ MS Office 2010/ AOL/ Yahoo Messenger."

I never noticed how much of an advertising whore Microsoft was until I bought this Mac. What's even trippier is the fact that I've had this thing for about a week and haven't had to reboot it yet. I close the lid, open it back up and shit keeps working. I'm going bananas in here.

So anyway, there are some challenges to this thing. In many ways, switching from PC to Mac is like screwing outside of your race. You know someone who's done it, but you kinda have to see for yourself. The same thing that worked on one, doesn't work on the other and you feel the need to brag to someone.

So anyway, I wont bore you with the details, but it is cool to have something that friggin works. The coolest thing of em all is being able to work on this thing six-eight hours straight without charging it. My old Sony Vaio gave you a good hour and a half before giving up the ghost. And that was with the power settings turned as conservative as possible. Now...please don't let this damn thing break since I've hyped it up so much.

Opt Out of Stupidity

Just when I think people can't get any dumber... Are people really planning an "Opt-out Day" for the airport body scanner? And wait...they're doing it the day before Thanksgiving...the busiest day of the year??? What the hell is wrong with people? Where's all that damn patriotism that was going around like the swine flu a few years ago. Back when Bush told everyone that terrorists were hiding inside cereal boxes, you could've gotten people to do anything. Now, after actually catching a guy with a bomb in his underwear, people are sheepish.

"It invades privacy."
So does shrapnel from an airliner falling at a rate of 9.8 m/s through your bedroom ceiling and through your bed/body before coming to rest on the kitchen floor below.

"It's unAmerican."
Get the fuck outta here.

"Too much radiation"
Really? You get more radiation standing in front of a microwave.

Now conspiracy theories aside, we all saw two planes slam into a building a couple of years back. Considering how well the country handled that situation, I'm personally on board for any kind of searches up to and including stripping down completely and riding the plane naked. Get over yourselves! You are not that friggin important where you feel that you shouldn't be scanned. That sounds like some axis of evil stuff right there.

PassCode Accepted

[caption id="attachment_306" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The White man within"][/caption]

Even though you've been raised as a negro, you are not one of them. They can be a great people Kal-El, they wish to be. They lack only the light to show them the way. For this reason above all, I have sent them you, my only son.

It happened again today: My mutant power ruined what would have otherwise been a perfect day. I called my bank about a problem with my account and the lady on the phone was extremely friendly. She told me to come in and that's when the problem arose. As soon as I got there, I got "the look." I get "the look" everytime I go in for a job interview after talking to someone on the phone. It's the look that says, "Oh my god, you sounded White on the phone."

While she was pregnant, my mother was exposed to radiation while standing next to a White man. It altered my genetic code, leaving me with the ability to code switch. I'm not the only one of my kind, but with our identities being secret, I rarely know who else has the gift.

It's kinda like that thing that the Hulk has...except in reverse. If I go out to Bethesda or some other place with few Black people, my mutant power triggers. I can't help myself: The "pimp" in my step that all Black men have turns into a bounce, the scowl on my face that keeps crackheads at bay in the hood turns into a smile and even my clothes change. My North Face coat and jeans turn into a Polo coat and Dockers.

It's not just my outward appearance either. I watch Charlie Rose, listen to NPR and actually enjoy going to the National Art Gallery once a month. That means that my conversations go a little different than you'd expect from a Black guy in a hoodie and jeans.

Now, this mutant power works both ways. You can't enjoy the works of Thomas Cole without getting some flack from your ghetto counterparts. Years of being "the nerd" in DC Public School taught me to blend in. I've learned how to hit reverse on the code switch button. You can't pull into the parking lot of Forestville or Iverson Mall blasting classical music. You'll get "got." So, that's when knowing every Jay-Z  and T.I. song comes in handy. Those Dockers turn back into jeans REAL quick. My speech slurs, my walk becomes more purposeful and I look over my shoulder a lot. I also keep my fists balled up and have the "nigga please" look on my face. That's how I get in and out of the Chinese carryout in one piece.

I run into a few other code-switchers from time to time. I've even encountered some who were so good at it that it took months to see through them. It's a secret society, all we ask is trust.

Learn to Cook!

Random rant of the day:

The people across the hall are driving me crazy. Our rent is entirely too high to have to put a towel under the door every single day just to keep the smell out of our apartment. They're nice people and I try to cut them some slack because they have small kids, but damn...how hard is it to learn to cook? Right now it smells like they're over there cooking marinated raccoon meat in a urine bath.

Every. Single. Day.

There isn't a point to this entry...I just had to get that off my chest.

Thank you for reading.

Good day.

Happy Veteran's Day

I don't how many people are actually doing anything today besides enjoying a day away from work, but I want to send my appreciation to everyone who currently is or at one point did serve in the military. I'm not naive enough to buy into the rhetoric of "dying to protect our country." After all, this isn't the 1940s. There is no world war and no threat of invasion. Yes, we have a few nuts trying to blow up bits and pieces of the US, but there is no one dumb enough to try and come over and here and "conquer" America.

Can you imagine what that would look like? A hundred row boats show up from Pakistan and a few thousand men "storm" Miami Beach armed with AK-47s and none of them carrying more than two or three magazines. Even Orlando has enough of a gang presence to take care of them. Like DL Hughley said, "Why are we sending so many troops to Afghanistan? You can take over Afghanistan with a stick."

So yeah, with no imminent threat of invasion, I still salute our troops. I joke a lot, but I really do respect the sacrifice. I don't totally understand it, but I respect it. I decided to join the Army during my freshman year of college. I made it to the recruiting office and was ready to sign up when the recruiter said something along the lines of, "You won't regret your decision. Our commander in chief is a brilliant guy and this military is in good hands." This was February 2001 and the brilliant mind he was speaking of belonged to George W Bush.

I told him that I personally thought Bush was an idiot and that he stole the election from Gore. Anyone who knows me personally can attest that I don't care who you are, I don't bite my tongue. Army captain, baptist minister, or Thundercat...I will not bite my tongue. We had a five minute shouting match on how I absolutely could not speak ill of the head of the nation and that they would "teach me my place" when I got to Basic Training. I tore up the form and that was it for me and the military. A good friend of mine went through with it and less than a year later (9/11) he was shipped overseas. As far as I'm concerned, he never came back.

His convoy was attacked several times over the course of two months and each time it chipped away at his mind and body. Barely able to stand without medication, night terrors and with only the shadow of his old personality, he isn't the same guy. With a college degree, he can't get a job even with veteran's preference. He considers himself one of the luckier ones.

So with all of that said, I salute any and everyone who enlisted rather it was for honor, country or just to pay the bills and stay out of trouble.

Thanks for all that you did and do.

Fantastic Voyage?

I've been calling Carnival the ghetto cruise line for years and, once again, people said I was "bougie." Well this week a Carnival cruise ship broke down in the middle of the ocean after an engine fire. They just announced that the crew was finally able to get normal amenities back on line. That's right, they just got running water, sewage and lights back on. They still don't have heating and air conditioning. Any hood person can tell you that utilities are usually the first to go when times are tough.

The navy showed up and dropped off food rations. That's right...rations! Pop tarts, spam, bread and canned crabmeat. Tell me that's not a hood grocery list. Spam? Really? If they had hot water, I'm sure they'd be eating Top Ramen. (No disrespect to Nissin and the Top Ramen family...shout out to Maruchan!)

So now they're getting a TUG BOAT to pull the remaining 150 miles to shore. Do you know how slow a tug boat moves? You could get out and swim faster than one of those. Once they get the 4500 passengers back to Mexico shore, a caravan of buses will take them back to California.

So let's recap...

The whip broke down and is about to be towed. The fam is eating Spam, Little Debbies and tunafish to pass the time away. The lights, phone and a/c were out and they're all catching the bus back home. Ghettoness confirmed!

Tea Anyone?

I don't know what it is, but I like the Tea Party people...uh, Tea Partiers...whatever you call them. They remind me of George Bush and I loved him. I haven't been the same since he left office.

I don't know about you, but every single time George W was on TV, I felt...smarter. No matter how bad things were going for me, he always lifted my spirits. I mean, if he could be President then I could do anything!




Then Obama showed up with his fancy words and self-written speeches. My self esteem took a nose dive. Harvard? Lawyer? Articulate? Fuck! I'm a college drop out with bad credit. How the hell can I compete with that?

Then came Sarah Palin!

Talk about The Little Engine that Could. I thought we were done with her ass when she hammered the nail into John McCain's coffin, but noooooo. She went back to Alaska, called up Glenn Beck and all of the other Fraggles and they went to marchin' on Washington.

Now, I don't really know what the hell the Tea Party wants. I don't think they know what the hell they want. All I know is that I hope they stay around for just a little while longer. It's like George Bush got wet and ate after midnight at the same time. All these little spawns of Bush are running around saying equally stupid shit and my self esteem couldn't be higher. I feel...beautiful inside. Thank you Sarah Palin! Thank you!!!

Viva la Tea Party! I think Imma go buy some Lipton tea and throw in the Potomac right now.

They're Magically Delicious

They're Magically Delicious

Black Card Revocation #1: Tyler Perry Sucks

This will cost me some points on my Blackness Credit Report, but I don't give a damn. Tyler Perry fucking sucks. He has a new movie coming out and the Facebook statuses are already buzzing: "It's a tear jerker, bring a tissue."

I'd cry too if I had to sit through another one of his movies. Everyone is so damn melodramatic and the writing is atrocious. Now don't get me wrong, I have a sense of humor. Fun is fun and jokes are jokes. This blog isn't exactly "proper" writing, but at the same time I don't pretend that it's the Wall Street Journal.

When I first saw the play of Madea's Family Reunion, I almost fell out of my chair...in the barbershop...watching the bootleg. It was only when he started taking himself serious and he became the only Black production on TV and film that I started having issues. There were always two kinds of Black plays: The churchy kind and the "real" plays. August Wilson's Fences was a real play because of the solid writing and acting (James Earl Jones, Mary Alice, Courtney Vance). Churchy plays like Mama I Want to Sing, My Grandmother Prayed for Me, and anything else with one of the Winans in it were catered to the church crowd. The production values were lower, some people broke character, but you had a good time. Never before did we confuse the two.

Then came Tyler P.

All of a sudden we (Black people) start accepting bad wig mics, cheesy songs and banter with the audience as a broadway productions...So he makes them into movies. Those movies suck because of poor dialogue, storytelling, directing, editing and acting....so then he starts making tv shows. Exactly ten years after what was hands down the best era of Black television we end up with Tyler Perry Productions being the only source of Black entertainment.

Living Single, Martin, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, The Cosby Show, A Different World, Roc, The Wayans Brothers, In Living Color, New York Undercover, Hanging With Mr. Cooper, In the House, Malcolm and Eddie and many other shows came on in the 90s. What do we have now? House of Pain and Meet the Browns. We went from realistic characters to buffoons and caricatures.

The sad thing is that these shows get high ratings so we'll get more of the same, just like we get more Tyler Perry movies. I don't want my kids growing up thinking that this is the best that Black artists have to offer.

So knowing that my Blackness Score is on the line...I'll take a hit on my credit. Tyler Perry sucks!

Letter of Resignation

Attn: Jerry Jones

It is with mixed emotions that I tender my resignation effective at the close of business February 6, 2011. The experiences that I've had as a fan these past eighteen years will stay with me forever, however, I feel that over the last few seasons, the team and I have been going in different directions. No fan-team relationship is perfect, but that doesn't excuse the complete lack of reciprocity in our current situation.

I was born and raised in Washington, DC and lived exactly two blocks away from the Redskins' old stadium, RFK. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be a Cowboys fan in Washington, DC--not just regular Washington, DC, Southeast DC!!! Despite the numerous bottles, rocks and bullets being thrown in my direction, I wore the gray and blue jersey with pride. (I am Emmit Smith.) In the 90's, my sacrifices were rewarded with Superbowl wins or at the very least, one hell of a playoff run. These last few years though...You aren't even trying!

Do you know what it's like to argue sports with a Redskins fan? One minute into the conversation and you'll have no doubt why DC has the worst public school system and former title as murder capital. I used to joke that in the battle of the minds, Redskins fans came unarmed. So far they've won four times the number of games that we have. There's nothing I can say to that.

I can't do this anymore.  1 and 7 is just inexcusable. This organization is no longer conducive to my success or self esteem, so I'm afraid we must part ways. Don't worry, I have no plans to violate the non-compete agreement;I wouldn't become a Redskin fan if they paid me.

-Respectfully Yours,

The One and Only

What the Hell is a Wiggle?

[caption id="attachment_226" align="alignleft" width="200" caption="Would you trust your kids with them?"][/caption]

Okay, I'm watching "The Wiggles" on Netflix with my daughter right now for the first time. Who the hell authorized this show? I heard of them before, but I always assumed they were cartoons, or animals or something. I mean honestly, what the hell is a wiggle? Is that what we're calling grown ass men in sex offender costumes these days?

The last time wearing a long sleeve solid-color Fruit of the Loom sweatshirt was cool was 1988. Dr. Huxtable had one, but even he moved on to wool patterns. As a matter of principle, man-law requires that you beat the shit out of any man wearing one within 100 feet of a school. And you know what? If I ever see a Wiggle, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. How dare you, PBS, undo twenty years of stranger danger messages!

[caption id="attachment_227" align="alignright" width="160" caption="Puff the magic dragon"][/caption]

As the show goes on, I see them talking to and dancing with a six foot tall dog, a purple octopus and a dancing dinosaur. This makes me think of only one thing: psychotropics! No good pedophile would be caught dead without some ruffies.

I blame all of this on Barney. Before that purple bastard showed up, PBS was four straight hours of Sesame Street with a little Mr Rogers, 321 Contact and Square One thrown in for good measure. Barney took the land of make-believe to a whole new sick and twisted level. Sesame Street was this hidden gated community where we just accepted that muppets and people lived in harmony.

[caption id="attachment_228" align="alignleft" width="262" caption="The mascot for Ritalin"][/caption]

Barney, on the other hand, was a 30 minute case study of the effects of Ritalin on children in special ed. Don't act surprised. How else do you explain eight year olds being in the same class as twelve and fifteen year olds? Then we have the conundrum of how the hell do all of the kids imagine the exact same thing in real time? I can see Barney talking to one of them at a time, but for all of them to hear and see Barney do the exact same thing...not even heroin addicts synchronize their trips. At the end of every episode the kids went home and the camera panned to show us that Barney was still a small stuffed animal.

There's a fine line between imagination and hallucination. You don't teach kids that it's okay to be crazy, just like you don't teach them to hang out with Chester and the rest of the Wiggles.

Ten Year Old Girl Gives Birth

And now let's talk for a minute about ass whippings.

Forbes.com has an article about a ten year old girl giving birth in Spain. The girl is a Romanian immigrant and her mom (probably 15 years old herself) says that it's completely normal in their culture. The father of the baby is about thirteen years old.

My daughter is four months old and the thought that I can be locked up for manslaughter in just nine short years scares the hell out of me. I can see it now. I pick my daughter up from fourth grade when the teacher asks me to come in for a conference. I go into the office expecting a bad report card and instead the school nurse hands me a positive EPT pregnancy test. I snap and go Keanu Reeves "Matrix Reloaded" on all the prepubescent little boys in the school with a yard stick.

I didn't even know that ten year olds could get pregnant. I grew up around "hood children" but the youngest parent I knew was twelve. She got pregnant our sixth grade year. By twelfth grade she had at least four kids. Apparently someone beat her record.

Voting: Giving Blind People Sniper Rifles

For the past week I've been inundated with Facebook status updates along the lines of, Get out and vote. It's your civic duty. No it's not! Perhaps I'm arguing semantics here, but when I think of a civic duty, I think of something compulsory like jury duty. You know, something that threatens imprisonment for failing to comply. Paying taxes is another one, but not voting. No, voting is a civic right. It's something you're allowed to do, but not required to do.

It's no secret that social media sites like Myspace and Facebook aren't exactly catering to Mensa candidates these days. Considering the fact that these places are abound with idiots, should we really use them as a platform to urge people to go out and vote? I've seen hundreds of status updates in the past month regarding voting, but none talking about the actual candidates. I understand that we don't want to sway people to one side, but if your friends won't do it, then those misleading campaign ads will.

How much can you really learn about someone from a paid advertisement? Have you gone to a campaign rally? Did you fact check the candidate through your own research and observation? Do you even know who at least 75% of the people on the ballot are? I bet some people can't even tell you who their neighborhood representative is, yet they want to empower someone to become senator or president. If you can't provide a brief description of what the Councilman At-Large does versus the Shadow Representative then you shouldn't be allowed to vote.

Because our country's history is marred by the not so distant memory of people being denied the right to vote based on physical characteristics, we choose not to impose any restrictions besides age and criminal record. Look at some of the people that you see at these rallies and tell me that you don't think some kind of intelligence test should be given beforehand. If anything, telling them that there's a test coming may actually force some of them to study.

Until that day comes we'll continue to have people voting based on the emotion of the day, which nine times out of ten is related to an issue that's been blown out of proportion and has very little to do with the job itself. Just how many times in a given workday will a congressman be faced with a decision regarding abortion or gay marriage? Two, four or six years is a long time to guarantee someone a job based on two or three really pretty bullet points on their resume.

A misinformed, uneducated and (sometimes) purposely ignorant emotional person is just as dangerous when exercising his or her right to vote as s/he would be with a loaded gun. You don't see us going on Facebook urging people to exercise their civic right to bear arms do you?

I'm Afraid of White Women At Night

Today's story starts like many you've read before in the paper. "Recent college grad, Amy Whatsherface was walking down a poorly lit street after midnight when she noticed a Black male dressed in all black coming her direction. She froze..."

Well I'm the Black male in this story and here is where the story changes. I was walking home from the train one night, the streetlight went out for some reason and I look up and see a White lady walking by herself at twelve o' clock at night carrying a bag from Lord and Taylor. She put on the usual, "I'm not going to panic or look racist but I'll still grab my purse and tighten my stance" face. There was no need. The minute I saw her I went into survival mode alpha. I crossed the damn street and made it my point to sing the Whitest song I could think of at the moment (When you're alone and life is making you lonely you can always go downtown) loud enough for her to hear me. I then got my black ass to a well lit, busy street as quickly as possible without running.

I'm deathly afraid of White women at night. White joggers might as well be boogeymen. See, I live in a really nice neighborhood but as Dave Chappelle put it, "It's not great but the police would never believe my Black ass lived there." The last thing I need is to fit the description of a suspect. Now the onus is on the White woman. Why the hell are you walking by yourself so late? Yes, it is a free country and yes, you should be able to walk through your neighborhood at night if you want. But you can't! This is Washington, DC. This is a horrible place during the day, what the hell makes you think night is any better?

So, because Amy wants to be a superwoman I gotta pick up the slack and protect myself. I usually walk down well lit heavily trafficked streets. I never keep my hands in my pockets. I always make a phone call while I'm out so that we have proof of where I was based on the cell tower picking up the signal and whenever I see a White woman by herself...I go the other way.

Obama vs The World

I guess I'll have to turn in my Black Card after this one, but I have nothing else to do so...why not write about it?

Hearing that the Republicans are getting the House and possibly the Senate hasn't really evoked any sense of concern. I don't know how to put this but...I don't really have any faith in Obama. White people may read this and say, Well let's see where he's going with this blog. Black people on the other hand have already stopped reading, You a sell out!

I had no illusion that things would change overnight. I just don't have any hope that they'll get better any time soon. I wanted him to win because I thought he had it in him to take us in a new direction, I just didn't know how tough the opposition was. He's a charismatic guy and one hell of a public speaker. The problem is that you can't win over close-minded people and unfortunately he picked his battles kind of oddly.

Healthcare was a big issue, but it may not have been the right issue to go after. I'm not talking politics, I'm talking about picking something that would make the most difference. People don't care about healthcare. Sick people care. Let me rephrase that. Sick people who are on their last leg and can't afford to see a doctor care about it. Everybody else is  healthy, can afford healthcare or too busy eating fast food, inhaling sugary products and smoking to care.

I mean let's take a look at the commercial with the pudgy woman at the grocery store talking about the proposed soda tax. The government is too involved, she says as she loads up her cart with ground beef, chips, a two liter soda and some orange drink. She's just a quesadilla away from a heart attack herself, but I won't go there.

The Biggest Loser...I hate this show

Today on Shows that I Hate we examine The Biggest Loser

Who is the psychological guru at NBC who manages to pick the most mentally screwed up people in America every single season. Every season week there is some whiny person complaining about how no one read them a bedtime story as a kid. NO one cries that damn much. These people seriously need psychological counseling, not just fat camp.

Meanwhile, can we please get someone who can do a better job at subtle product placement? I'm telling you...as soon as the next pair of contestants hook up they're gonna do a product placement for Orthoevra and Trojan condoms. Just remember where you heard it first.

Twas the Night Before the Due Date

Twas the night before the due date and all through the house
Not a creature was working, not even a mouse
The bills were all laid on the table with care
In hopes that the Credit Fairy soon would be there

The couple was nestled all snug in their bed
While visions of paychecks danced through their heads
When out on the street there arose a commotion
I sprang from my bed thinking, “it’s a tow truck”

When what to my wondering eyes should I see?
A Benz with a woman as fine as can be
Her hair long and flowing, her outfit quite classy
She matched head to toe, and her diamonds were flashing

With a credit report in hand reading Eight Forty-Three
I knew in an instant, “She’s the Credit Fairy!”
Clutching her purse, and fixing her hair
She clicked thrice her black heels and ascended the air

She approached the front door and gave a slight knock,
Whispered her credit score and made it unlock
Over on the table she found the bills in a stack
Pulled a wand from her purse and gave them a tap

She read each amount and each debtor’s name
Lifted her wand and I heard her exclaim:

“Now Equifax, Transunion, Experian and FICO
Now Verizon, Now Visa, Capital One and Geico
Away from this home, I command you depart
And give this young couple a fresh credit start”

The cable came back on, the internet did too
The bills disappeared and the fridge was filled with food
I ran to the window in time to see her drive by
With a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye
She rolled down her window and shouted out in delight
“Good credit to all, and to all a good night!”

He Can Thrill You More...

[caption id="attachment_188" align="aligncenter" width="370" caption="He can thrill you more than any ghost would ever dare try"][/caption]