Hell Of A Life

SheHateMe: How would you rate Ye's album?

ComputerLove: At this point, it's just as honest as How I Got Over AND Thank Me Later with a broader range of sonics and emotions.

SHM: I'm gonna say this: if Yeezy doesn't get a classic rating on this, the industry is a bunch of political asshats.

Niccolus: He isn't going to get a classic rating on this because people are going to complain about how Auto-tune is so over.  I predict the following line in a review "while the material is fresh it feels like its dated back to 808s"

SHM: Then that reviewer needs not review anything else. Ever.

CL:  It's like a fusion or composite of his previous opuses.  If there was Auto-Tune on MBDTF, then it was imperceptible, or used very subtly

N:  I agree with you both. I think my only disagreement with the album itself was it should have been double disc.

CL:  I respectfully disagree with the notion that it should have been a a double disc. Would be too much. Overkill.

N: I'm still hoping @kanyewest drops the sheet music or tab sheet for MBDTF sometime because I'd love to play it.

CL: I often feel that there's nothing new under the sun, then someone like @kanyewest chefs up some fresh new shit

SHM: Agreed. @kanyewest did what other artists are afraid to do: make music true to themselves.

N: I agree. There is one other artist who does just that: Kid Cudi.  I think it's that newer artists are afraid to take the risk because labels are less than willing to do so.  I think a bonus disc with the G.O.O.D. Friday tracks they have been left off would have been nice.  The G.O.O.D. Friday tracks that were left off by themselves are better than most major releases this year.

SHM: That's also true. Hell, The Joy beats out most albums.

CL: That's actually a very good idea right there.   'Ye took 5 artists I don't really care for all that much - to a certain extent (CuDi, Ross, Rihanna, Minaj, & CyHi)... and used them sparingly to obtain a great end result on the album. He's a great chef.

SHM: YES. And I have to give props where props is due: Minaj delivered the verse of her career (so far) on Monster.

N:  I know what you mean. I typically cringe when I see any of those names but Kanye is making them tolerable to me.  I would hate to be the rap blog or magazine that rates Teflon Don higher than MBDTF.

SHM: I'd hate to be the blog or magazine that rates Thank Me Later higher than MBDTF.

Biggga: Yeah the album has 1 weak joint on it. It is a great album.

SHM: What did you think was the weak joint?

B: Hell Of A Life is the weak link in a damn near perfect album.

C: He knew exactly what he wanted on each song and A&R'ed his own shit.  I'm predisposed to having an aversion to downtempo/slow/emo songs on rap albums, but there isn't a weak joint.  I was gonna say Blame Game & Hell Of A Life I initially wasn't feeling, cuz they're slower/softer.  (Pause)

SHM: Exactly. I've been listening for 72 hours... I can't find a weak link. Sonically... it's damn near perfect.  I wish I could agree with you, B. We rarely disagree... Hell Of A Life not only FITS, but it's a lyrical win.

B: We can agree to disagree. I have listened to the album 3 straight times and that's the only song that I'm not feeling. 

CL: My only gripe w/ Hell Of A is that the melody from the chorus "borrows" heavily from Black Sabbath's "Iron Man".

SHM:  I can dig that. I was feeling that way too, initially.

N: Funny you should mention that because I liked that about the chorus rather than something generic.  There is no weak joint to me on the album but I'm a fan so I'm biased. I supported crushing Taylor Swift.  If Taylor Swift would have been swift with the thank you speech, shit like that wouldn't happen.  "I want to thank my mom, God, my label and the groupies." 32 seconds. OUT!

SHM: That's true! *pulls out Wrap It Up box*

N: Back to Nicki Minaj for a second, isn't the fact the album comes out in nearly a week and there is no leak a bad sign? Think about Fat Joe.

SHM: Yeah... I haven't even smelled a .rar file from her camp yet... sheesh.

CL: Same thing with Lloyd Banks. I haven't given the reason much thought though. Too busy listening to MBDTF.

N:  I think the reason Nicki Minaj gets so much praise is that being female is seen as a handicap in rap.  She's going to stand out when you compare her to Foxy Brown, Yung Berg, Remy Ma, Trina and other females, but compare her to everyone who's released an album in the past 12 months and she will be subpar.

CL: She's got room to improve and potential to grow.  I'm not writing her off just yet, not by any means.

SHM: I agree, N. I was all about giving her a chance... but she's too Pee Wee Herman for me. *Pee Wee Herman laugh*  -__-   

CL: Pee Wee Herman? Ha, I'd actually like to see her jilling off in a movie theater... help her, even.

SHM: Same here. She DOES have a body on her... even if it's mostly plastic. 

N:  I was all for giving her a chance but then she over saturated the market.  Good artists disappear while they craft albums. They don't show up on EVERY SONG between releases.  It's the same argument we have against Drake. So Far Gone was good, but sit down, shut up, and make the album.  If Drake had time off like between Comeback Season and So Far Gone, Thank Me Later could be better.  'Ye ran off between College Dropout and Late Registration. Dropped Freshmen Adjustment 2 but was out.

SHM: EXACTLY. Good point. Even Beyonce sat down this year.  That's a hell of an achievement.  And before we continue, can we just say that Blame Game is song of the year? Just saying.

CL: "Yeezy Taught Me" is already a catchphrase immortalized in the annals for the Rap Skit Hall Of Fame.

N: Blame Game is easily song of the year. If it's a single, it will cross over and hit all charts.

CL: In a way I think that skit is an analogy for how Yeezy done stretched out Hip-Hop's pussy and it's not the same.

SHM: So damn true. Drake... not even CuDi or Common can come subpar now...

N: Common's next album is going to be great. Why? He is done with Serena. When Common is in love we get shit.

CL: But yo, what artist has continually built openly and added to their catalog with each consecutive album?  It's like a series, saga, legacy or whatever.  I mean, yeah, it's subjective.  In the end, it's "artistic appropriation", but Drake don't have a catalog though... yet.  With 'Ye, there's almost this loose, albeit running, narrative.

SHM: Exactly.  No one.  Not even Big Bro.  In my eyes... Ye is 5 for 5 on albums.

CL:  Pretty much, like the Undefeated clothing line logo.  It seems he finds a muse in his downtime.  WOMEN.  And not just smashed females and romantic interests, but his mom and Taylor Swift.  God forbid Beyonce divorces Jay-Z. I can't even fathom the musical potential between the 2, let along the Camel heartbroken.

N: Pretty much.  Jay is hip-hops Brett Favre.  His accuracy can be deadly when the icy hot is working but its no longer 100%.  Kanye gives us new shit with each female he smashes.  We need to keep him stocked in bitches.  

SHM: I agree with this plan... but they need to be slightly off kilter. Who can we pick?

N:  I say we volunteer Jessica White.

CL: Why not go for the gusto?  I say Michelle Obama or Oprah Winfrey.  Or Janet Jackson.  Make Jermaine Dupri cry.

SHM:  I'm down with that.  Janet will make Ye drop something like Here My Dear or Songs In The Key Of Life.  Then Ye will kill himself.

N: Janet likes white guys.  Oprah's a lesbian.  Barack puts it down.  Jermaine is making "I Need A Girl 2011". 

CL: Oooorrrrrr.....we could get a two-fer w/ Mary J Blige.  Yeah.

SHM: Ok, that'll work!  But we need to strike while Diddy feels betrayed by Jay Elec so he can produce it.

N:  True, but Mary is still in denial things are over in relationships.  Now I have an idea, but I need you guys to follow me on this one: Lindsay Lohan.

SHM: Ok. Explain.

N:  Lindsay has the passion for fashion and a passion for passing out and partying hard and dyking.

SHM: Hmmm... ok. Okay. That'll work. But we'll have to be careful she don't introduce coke to 'Ye.

N:  That's the brilliance of Lohan: Cudi the Coke Monster.

SHM:  Indeed.  So... final thoughts?  How many cigs does 'Ye get?  I'm pushing for all 5.

CL: Sure, I don't see why not.

B: I'd say 4.5... but Chris Rock made me give it 5.

N: 6.  It gets one extra for the skit with Chris Rock.  If Rick Ross is getting 3 and a half, then Ye deserves 5.  Ross wasn't even on half the damn album.  

CL: And Lex Luger recycled beats to produce half of it.  Man, that shit was a BMF Maxi-Single with bonus tracks.

N: Teflon Don was basically a "What if DJ Khaled executive produced an album?"  The only way I was able to sit through Teflon Don a second time was I kept yelling "Cluemanatti" during it.  And to think he's going to drop another album next year.

SHM: Damn shame.  Ok, then it's settled.  Five cigs plus a bonus one for Chris Rock... who damn near stole the album.  You know what?  I gotta thank Yeezy.  And when I see that nigga, I'm gonna thank him.  I'mma gonna buy the album, I'mma download that motherfucker, I'mma shoot a bootlegger.

The Joy

First and foremost, let me thank Rocky Rivera for inspiring me to write tonight. Much love, ma'am. Thank you for reading.

Forgive me for two things: the absolute rawness and beauty of Pam Grier up there and for the fact I haven't blogged in 5 months.


It was a long and pretty uneventful summer.

Ok, I'm lying. I met someone. Finally. (Cheers and applause all around)


The Joy of being with someone who accepts who you are and embraces your faults is a wonderful feeling. She's amazing, in a way that I've never felt before.

I remember when I was 8. Running around in my British Knights with my friends, playing whatever silly game we came up with. Enjoying the day, laughing and just being content. Being with her... it's like someone took those times and bottled them up and served them to me 21 years later.

The Joy of being with someone as beautiful as she... not just physically. Emotionally. Mentally. It's almost like she's some ethereal angel placed here for me. I look at her and I wonder to myself "How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve her? What can I do to keep her?" And she reminds me that we are kindred spirits. We are together because this doesn't just FEEL right, it IS right.

She reminds me of Pam Grier. Strong. Looking into her eyes... there's life there. Joy, even. There's also some vulnerability, but that's what makes her human. That's what makes me more intrigued by her daily. There’s a part of her that is fragile, young, sometimes scared, and I think these are contradictions that attracted me to her. And she makes me very happy. She is very familiar to me and so I can be myself around her, she knows me well, I completely trust her, but at the same time in certain respects she remains a mystery to me. I enjoy her being a mystery to me. It makes me want to try and figure her out. She holds my interest, which, to be honest, is very hard to do.

The Joy of being involved with someone who has become such a staple in your life is something that I hope every one experiences. These are my words to her:

Love may be a lot of things: blind, fleeting, swift, everlasting, impossible to define. Even if this moment ends with you, I thank you from the BOTTOM of my heart for the moment of Love you've given me. Not only did you repair and steal my heart and restored my faith in Love, you've also embedded yourself into my soul. No matter what happens, I'll never let anyone take this Joy from me. I Love you, Honey Bear.

The Joy.


P.S. There's an aside to everything I said. She's got a body like Pam Grier. The Joy of waking up beside her in the morning? Indescribable. *nods head* *thinks about it* *drools*

----------------
Now playing: Kanye West - The Joy (feat. Pete Rock, Jay-Z, Charlie Wilson, Curtis Mayfield & Kid Cudi)
via FoxyTunes

Pretty Girls

I can cross another thing off my 30 Before 30... and if everything goes right, I can actually mark off two things.

But first...


I got inebriated Saturday night. WASTED. SLOSHED. THREE SHEETS TO THE WIND.


And I have to thank that pretty girl @Brandi3D for it.


Here's the story:


Tuesday, June 8th at 12:15 AM, I was invited to a birthday party by Brandi. She asked if me and my cousin Lamar (@LSANTANA757) would go; after 7 seconds of talking with him, we agreed to show up.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I was so busy with my brother and sister having family time, that I only ate once, around 2 PM. Taking a 2 hour nap around 5, it never crossed my mind that I needed to eat before I went out. {Red Flag #1} (Editor's Note: I will be putting Red Flags by things that are to be noted as important... such as this one.)

Last night rolls around and by this time, my other cousin (who'll remain nameless) decided that he wanted to go as well. He also told us he had drinks in the truck and that we were more than welcome to partake in them. In his vehicle, he had bottles of Parrot Bay, Absolute, and Everglow. We made a quick stop at our local Wawa to get 24oz. cups of ice. We then proceeded to mix all the drinks together into our cups and chug them down. {Red Flag #2}

Racing down towards VA Beach, we're calling and talking to Brandi, who tells us that she's on her way there, and we can meet up then. Mind you, Brandi is a wonderful person; having been friends on Twitter for almost 2 years, this is our first time meeting up, so it's pretty exciting. I drink some more. (I always get nervous around pretty women.) {Red Flag #3}

Music blasting, we finally hit Pacific Ave. My other cousin reminds us that it is Puerto Rican Weekend down at the beach, and it is packed. We drive around for about 20 minutes, looking at the women while finding parking. By this time, the liquor has already invaded my blood stream. I am now tipsy. {Red Flag #4}

Getting to Shaka's, the doorman greets us and we walk in. It's HOT. Brandi meets us upstairs. She is not what I expected looking at Twitpics of her for 2 years, no. She was looking WONDERFUL. Hugs and greetings get passed around. She then informs us that the bar tab has been set at $40 for an open bar. Let me say this again:

$40.

All you can drink liquor. {Red Flag #5}

Two Long Island Iced Teas start the party off. We talk (more like yell), we dance, we start getting into the groove. The DJ had a live drummer there with him, making every high hat, snare, and bass drum feel 10x better. We got back to the bar for more drinks; this time, I take 3 shots of Patròn. Her friend (which, to this very second, I do not remember his name) has challenged me to drinking shots. We go at it. We call a truce after the 4th shot; Brandi, Lamar and my other cousin come off the dance floor and we get a round of Blue Motorcycles to make a toast with. I, being overly ambitious, have already drank my glass. They laugh and get me another one. We make a toast to good times and good friends. I drink this one like it's water. As I move towards the bar to place my cup down, I feel the liquor moving around in my stomach; if I close my eyes, I can hear it. {Red Flag #6... I have just fouled out. Everything from here on is on fast forward: from me talking to 4 different sets of women, to me hitting on another guy's woman and ALMOST pulling her number until he violently grabs her by the arm; she then gets him thrown out. Oh, and apparently, when I get super drunk, I dance like Carlton did that episode of Fresh Prince when he was on those uppers. There was video of that, but nobody will EVER see that.}

The night ends outside. We are all laughing and taking pictures. Here is a picture of me:




Yes, that is me on Brandi's Nappable Titties. By this time, all I can think about is FOOD. We say our goodbyes and start to make our way back to the vehicle. As we are crossing 19th street, there is a black BMW blocking the box (If you live in or near VA Beach, you know what blocking the box is). So me, in my HIGHLY drunken state, taps the trunk of his car and yell out "Nice Car!" I continue to walk across the street, completely ignoring his drivel about me hitting his car. Lamar yells at the guy to go home, and the dude pulls off. As soon as I hit the truck, I'm all over the backseat, drunk tweeting (as I've been known to do) and actually being amazed that I can tweet while drunk and not misspell any words. My other cousin yells at me and tells me when we get to Waffle House to NOT say a word. I nod my head and continue tweeting.

Somewhere between us hitting the interstate and getting to Waffle House, I pass out. Getting woken up by two drunk and hungry people isn't fun at all. I stumble my way into the crowded Waffle House and take a seat at the counter. The waitress puts the menu down in front of me. I tap Lamar and point to what I want to eat. He looks at me and asks if that's what I want to eat. I nod. He says OK. I get off the chair and go the bathroom, as I have to pee. After spending 4 minutes trying to figure out how to wash my hands, I make my way back to the chair. The waitress has yet to take our order, which is a good thing.

WARNING: This next part will probably be a little graphic. I suggest that if you have a weak stomach that you do not read this part. I also suggest that if you live in the Churchland area and you are a female.... well, you might want to read this. That's all I'm saying.

Sitting in the chair for no less that 30 seconds, my stomach, which is still full of liquor, has informed me that it will no longer play flask for my liquid goodness, and that it needs to be expelled. NOW. Lamar looks at me, and I shake my head violently.

Wrong move.

I stumble as fast as a fat drunk person can to the bathroom and immediately projectile vomit all over everything: the toilet, the handle, the wall, the floor, the mirror; EVERYTHING. Amazingly, nothing hits my shirt, pants, or shoes. There is a shelf on the wall that I didn't throw up on that was chest high. I lay my head on the shelf, trying to regain my composure and to make sure that I didn't have to shoot tequila and vodka all over the place again. There is banging on the door. My ears hear NOTHING. I attempt to clean up the mess that I made, not really caring how I clean up; I mean hey, if a man comes into this bathroom and there's a little puke behind the toilet, get someone to come clean it, because I am just too drunk.

After about 10 minutes of futile cleaning (I did get the toilet as clean as I could with the bleach that was in the bathroom), I stumble out of the bathroom and make my way back to the dining area where there's a lot of females looking at me funny. Apparently, I didn't make it to the Men's restroom, which was the SECOND door on the left, no. I went into the WOMEN'S restroom. I destroyed that bitch like it was Tokyo and I was Godzilla, but instead of fire laser breath, I had liquid gold in the form of liquor shooting out. I, of course, KanYe Shrug to everybody and ask for the keys to the truck; O'mar is going to sleep (read: pass out). My cousin unlocks the truck and I pass out in the back seat. One hour later, we are pulling up to my brother's house; I stumble out of the truck, give a half wave, stumble up the stairs, and knock on the door. My sister lets me in. I say nothing and make a beeline to the guest room where I pass out, clothes on and all.

I was jarred awake at 9 AM Sunday morning by bright sunlight. I'm quite sure that if I had a breathalyzer, I could've blown at LEAST a .06 BAC; I was still drunk. I'm unsure of where I am, until it hits me that I am at my brother's house. Thinking about how I got there, I then think about the events of last night. I make a beeline straight to the bathroom and spend 30 minutes brushing my teeth and using a half of bottle of Listerine to clean it out. I then sit on my brother's couch, confident that I have scratched off number 28 on my 30 Before 30: got shit faced drunk at least once and remember what happened.

Now, I know what you're asking; why did I title this Pretty Girls? Well, we were blasting that on the Strip like it was a new song, and I wanted an excuse to post that Wale picture with Lindsey Lohan.

Pretty Girls will get you in trouble, kids. Every time. That's the moral of this story.

Liner Notes: I left almost everything I bought with me in my cousin's truck. I did manage to grab my iPod, so I guess that was a good thing. Brandi was a wonderful host, and she's a good friend, so I had a blast, and we're going to do it again before the summer is out... in New York. I do believe that I get this air of... invincibility, when I get drunk... it was a lot of females that could've been this year contenders. I will probably get this drunk again one more time in my life, and that will be my birthday in Vegas next year... well, barring any unforeseen excursions. Oh, and there is video of Lamar outside of the women's bathroom; he was yelling at me that I ended up in there instead of the men's bathroom. Don't let him tell it; he wasn't THAT drunk. (Yeah, right.) Normally, I can hold my liquor well, but when I don't eat... well, you see the end result.

----------------
Now playing: Wale - Pretty Girls
via FoxyTunes

Beat The Clock

"Surprise, time started already, motherfucker! Say that shit!" - Ghostface Killah

Time crept up on me.


Super fast. I look at the calendar, and it's already June 1st. Just two weeks ago, I turned 29.


Let me let that marinate.

29.


I'm less than 12 months away from the end of my 20's. I have been married. I have been divorced. I have witnessed the birth of my first child. I have been to college. I have met some wonderful people. I have met some people I wish I never met. I have been in love and I have been in hate. I have given and received pain. I have been all up and down the East Coast. I've traveled west of the Mississippi. I've been in 2 car accidents. I've been drunk. I've been high. I've been high AND drunk. I've been so drunk I couldn't remember the night before. Almost started bar fights. I've had 2 one night stands, one of which was a dear friend of mine who I'll probably never talk to again. I've been to concerts, shook hands with those who I consider amazing, and interviewed a porn star. I've watched a man die. I've watched a heart die. I've been shot and shot at, robbed, and assaulted. I've assaulted and ruined lives and been in lockup before. I've smoked cigarettes and quit and started again and quit again. I've lost 50 pounds and gained 60 and lost 60 and gained 65. I'm starting to lose weight again. I've held hands and walked the boardwalk with some of the best females and some of the worst females. I have partied and I have regretted.

I've been thisclose to getting a tattoo. I've been homeless.

All of this in 9 years. And I'm not done.


I've got a bucketlist for my 20's called 30 before 30: Things I Want To Accomplish Before I Hit 30 Years Old. I've already finished number 1.

1. Let Everything Up Until This Point Go.

But it's a race. 29 other things to do, and I've got... 347 days to do them in. Some are simple, like skydiving. (It's number 12.) Others?

Others will take every ounce of strength I have to accomplish them.

But I will do it. I have faith in me.


I will beat the clock. And I will look back on my 20's and say...


That was fun. Let's do it again.

----------------
Now playing: Ghostface Killah - Beat The Clock
via FoxyTunes

Fear

I started playing video games when I was 3.


I had a Sega Master System. The first one, with the green 'play' button. The first two games I ever owned was Hang-On and Astro Warrior. I played those game to no end.

On my 7th birthday, I got a Nintendo. I think that opened the flood gates. Super Mario Bros. Duck Hunt. Double Dribble. RBI Baseball. I started playing more and more video games.

I remember when my best friend James got a Super Nintendo in '91. I was so jealous but I was so happy because I could go to his house and play as much as I wanted. I BEGGED my mother to get me one. I never got it. I was mad at my mother. Christmas of 1995, I thought I finally got one. Turned out, Mom got me a Playstation. I was so disappointed. (Until I played it. Go figure.)

I'm an avid gamer. Always have been. Always will be, as far as I can see. Sometimes, I feel like I'm into them too much, or play too much, or blow people off too much because I need to beat one more level. A couple of months ago, me and my sister sat and watched a True Life episode: I'm Addicted To Gaming. To see these people and how they game, I thought that I'm nowhere NEAR that bad.

Then I become honest with myself.

There have been nights I did the Midnight Release for a game (The last one I did was GTA IV). There were times I didn't want to go out with a group of friends because I needed to finish off Yu Yevon in FFX. There were times I forgot to take out the trash because I finally did a sub 1 minute 10 second 40 line run in Tetris. There were times I didn't sleep because I had to get that one shot kill on Alexander Ashford in Resident Evil: Code Veronica. There were times I was late to work because I was creating a new combo in Tekken Tag Tournament. There were times I called out of work because me and my Greenbriar Mall Crew were having a dance off against the crew from Lynnhaven Mall and they NEEDED my perfect 9 footer for End Of The Century. There were times I ignored my future wife's (and ex-wife) conversation because I had to save King Mickey in Kingdom Hearts.

I look back and think to myself that I was addicted to video games. I shudder at the thought... because I have a fear of becoming a 'hardcore gamer', or at least society's view of a hardcore gamer: Mountain Dew drinking, pizza ordering recluse.

Then I realize that fear has no basis. I can walk away whenever I need to. I have before. I will again.

My fear isn't video games.

My fear is that I'm absolutely right. I have an addictive personality.

I read my first newspaper when I was 2. I can read a 350 page book in under 4 hours. I've spent all day in a library. In the 2nd grade, I was reading at a 6th grade level. By 5th grade, I was reading at a 12th grade level. I stared reading the encyclopedia. My mom stopped buying me books, not because I didn't read them, but because I read them too fast. She got me a library card.

In 6th grade, I met this girl. I'll call her 'K' for now. K was (and is) BEAUTIFUL. She made me her best friend, and I made her mine. We did everything together. At that time, I didn't play video games or read as much because I was too busy up under her. We went to our first dance together. We visited each other often. I ended up moving 2 years later, and we fell out of touch, but I always treasured what we had. (I've since found her on Facebook. We've been talking a lot lately.)

I latched onto the next female that showed me more attention than I thought I deserved. And the next one. And then the next one. I had an unhealthy addiction to females: not really becoming their boyfriend, but just being around one that wasn't family.

Women were my next addiction. Hell, they still are.

And then came school. (While I admit I was a slacker, it was because I was bored. I kept my grades up.) And then came drinking. (Patrón Silver. I could drink a bottle by myself in one night. I haven't had a shot of that in months.) And then came sex. (Me and my ex's had sex OFTEN. Too often. I'm a certified nymphomaniac. I haven't had sex in 8 months and counting.) And then came technology. (I'm a tech head. I need the latest and greatest, just to show it off. Then I need to alter it so I can say nobody else got this. I'm trying to curb that, too.) And then came Twitter. (I'm trying to fall back. It's sorta working, but not really.)

I have an addictive personality. And some nights, I fear that it'll get the best of me.

I finally understand what The Virgo was trying to tell me 3 years ago. It wasn't that she didn't love me. She did. She didn't understand how I could fall for her so deeply and so quickly. That scared her away. Now, 3 years later, I'm pushing females away because I don't want them to get too close to me. I fear pushing them away from me because I think I'll attach to them, like a leech or a parasite. I'm quick to say I love being single, but in reality, I hate being alone.

I fear being single for the rest of my life. I fear my addictive personality will hinder me from actually getting into a meaningful relationship. I fear my addictive personality will give me new things to fear, even though I don't really have that fear at all.

I've been using my fear as a crutch. And it wasn't healthy.

So, I'm back to my beginning, where I was at 26 years ago. I'm back into gaming. I've grown tired of the club scene. I have a set group of family and friends who I kick it with. I picked up one or two new friends since, but nothing too serious. I've been drinking in moderation, but I haven't been drunk in almost a year. I've met a lot of new females, but I've been keeping my distance on purpose.

Afraid of falling back into that old trap. Afraid of continuing this circle of destruction. Destruction of personal relationships. Destruction of myself.

I don't want to be addicted to anything, and yet, I'm addicted to almost everything. Movies. TV. (I don't watch TV much anymore. I went from almost 5 hours a day to almost 2 hours a week.) Pop culture. Music. Books. Computers. Women. Sex. I want to know the ins and outs of it all, figure out how it works, and keep it close to me.

Perhaps I am fooling myself. Maybe I'm just surrounding myself with all of this because-


Because I fear myself.


Then again, who am I fooling? I have a blog. And I'm addicted to telling you as much as possible about me without telling you nothing at all.


----------------
Now playing: Drake - Fear
via FoxyTunes

A Garden Of Peace

I think it's wonderfully and woefully crazy how the world works.

When you try to get a piece of peace, turmoil comes at you from all angles. There isn't a moment to even think, much less gather some peace.

When you could care less about keeping the peace, peace sticks around; makes itself known. Those are the times when peace pulls up a lawn chair.


I've always said when I got my own place, I would make me a garden of peace. Just somewhere away from the telephone and the internet and everybody and just sit there. Watch my fountain shoot water into a never ending blue sky. Drink some sun tea, and just grab a good book or two and be at peace; not only with the world, but with myself.

I think that's part of the problem.

I'm not at peace with the world. And the world knows it, because it's constantly trying to make me not be at peace with myself. Eternal struggle, constant tug-of-war. It's enough to make someone give up on peace.

But not me.

Not yet.

----------------
Now playing: 14KT - A Garden Of Peace (Revisited)
via SoundCloud

Our Dreams

I still have her pictures.

The ones at the beach. The ones at a restaurant with her mother. The ones in the bathroom mirror. The ones after she cut her hair. The ones fresh out of the shower.

I have them all.


I haven't looked at them in months.


But they are there. Right there in that folder.


I could delete them. But why? My mind still remembers the excitement of those pictures, the smiles.

Besides, my heart wouldn't let me. Trust me, I tried. Numerous times.


I was a summer fling. Of course, in the back of mind, I knew this. But it didn't matter. She was the woman I used to dream about. I had this... idea that we were going to make it. We would go our separate ways and then years later, we would reconnect and then make our dreams come true.

I need to apologize, because our dreams really were MY dreams. And I tried my hardest to sleep while I was awake, so I could live out my dreams.

I slept so much, though, that I slept though all the signals. She left.

She left me with a folder full of past memories dreams. She made me a cocktail of nothing but sleeping pills.


I happily took it. I thought I was gonna dream forever.

Dream about her.

Dream about us.

Dream about what was.

Dream about what could be.



Sunlight's here, though. No more dreams.




I'm making my own reality.

----------------
Now playing: Method Man, Ghostface, & Raekwon - Our Dreams
via FoxyTunes

Cooler Than Me

Rosario Dawson, ladies and gentlemen.

I chose her simply because she defines cool in a woman to me. She's stunning, but you'll never hear her say that nor act as if she really is that cool.


I talk to a lot of different people daily. It's funny, however, when you talk to that one person who thinks they are simply cooler than everybody else. They are above everybody and look down on people who they deem 'lesser than them'.

How foolish.

Those same people tend to think that EVERYTHING is about them. Even if the topic they are involved in isn't about them at all, they will twist and shove the conversation to be about them. Vanity is alive, folks, and I see it every day.

There is particular person who thinks that every word out of my mouth is about them. Everything I say or do has to do, directly or indirectly, with them. Sad part is, I don't even think about that person often enough for it to even be about them for 3 seconds, let alone a WHOLE conversation.

Nope.

You're not cooler than me. Actually, you may just be, until the last period in this blog, but only because I'm ACTUALLY taking the time out to even write about you. Which is sad, really.

I'm spending my time writing about someone I care nothing for.

That's hypocritical of me, and I realize that. I do. But I needed an outlet.

If not, the next time I saw you, I would've probably slapped the taste out of your mouth.

P.S. Here's the period. You're no longer cooler than me.
----------------
Now playing: Mike Posner & The Brain Trust - Cooler Than Me feat. Big Sean
via FoxyTunes

Verbal Intercourse '10

As I... open the door to our bedroom
I see you making your flower bloom
Your petals with light moisture on them
Looks my sleep situation just became real grim
I loosen up my tie and unbutton my shirt
You lick your lips and make your eyes flirt
I unbuckle my pants, you smile- no, just grin
Thoughts of you opening wide begin to creep in
I move towards you, you slide towards me
We embrace each other, this is how it's supposed to be
You lick my earlobe, I kiss your collarbone
I take my cell and pull the battery out the phone
No distractions, we about to embark on a journey
What are we doing? Last game of the tourney
You're going for the ring; me? The championship
No more fuck buddies, I want a lasting relationship
House phone's off the hook, I'm cunning like a crook
My tongue find every cranny, crevice, and nook; that's the hook
You kiss my lips, use your teeth to pull on the bottom
Your breath makes me excited, your eyes says "I got him"
Sexy beast, ready to devour and feast
On every part of my flesh but my kisses make you cease
I lay you on your back, ready to taste the yoni juice
We about to go to war, in this one, no truce
You wrap your thighs around my head, all I hear is blood
Rushing, my tongue breaks the dam, here comes the flood
Raindrops keep falling on my head
My sexy lady just made a waterbed
Now this is the part where things get tricky
No chocolate sauce or honey could make things this sticky
I ask you what position, you say you're not picky
I start to feel a buzz as if someone slipped me a mickey
Licky licky, you like that don't you?
The pleasure is all yours, and you'll come, won't you?
To a higher plane, where existence don't matter
Serve me that food, baby, my personal hors d'œuvre platter
Yes, you read that right, this is just the appetizer
You're my course study, and I'm the analyzer
I'm trying to pass class to Human Sexuality 102
Where I can use my skills to really show you
Exactly what I can do, and where we can go
We can get there fast, or I can usher you nice and slow
No music playing, just the sound of your moans
You're my Nina, and I'm you Darius love jones
In a sentimental mood, the room's spinning fast
You smile hard, make me grip your ass
I feel you cross your ankles, telling me not to move
My actions and breathing start erratic, but get real smooth
There's the rush, I feel your Niagra fall
I'm hoping you're good enough to even make Viagra stall
I feel your shakes and shudders, your left foot is bouncing quick
I hear you moan, whisper, say, scream "I want that dick!"
Happy to oblige my lady, go for a ride
It's fun out here, but I want to get inside
Laying on my back, the tables have turned
You're a good student, show me what you've learned
You hold down my wrists, stare in my eyes
You use me as your saddle, grip me with your thighs
Back and forth, like Aaliyah baby, rock the boat
Damn, it's wet, glad I got a raincoat
Cause I don't see myself lasting too long
In this monsoon, but I remain strong
I can't... I can't... I... I'm crashing to shore with so much force
My words aren't coming, but I am: Verbal Intercourse

----------------
Now playing: 14KT - Verbal Intercourse 06'
via FoxyTunes

Soundtrack 2 My Life

First of all, Happy New Year.

Second, thank you for reading. Seriously, it means a lot to me.

Finally, I wanted to explain this year. If you've been a long time reader (or you go into my backlog) you've noticed that my years have "themes" so to speak. 2007 and 2008, I got an idea while watching Dr. Strangelove (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb). It was a dark comedy, and at that time, I was going to some pretty hilarious things, so all of my titles had an 'or' added to it. 2009, I thought about counting the days until the end of the year... and the end of a lot of other things as well.

Well, this year, I want to do the soundtrack to my life. Every time I post, I want to have a song to go along with the topic. Tonight, I thought about it, and I have a pretty extensive music collection, and I have music that fits every situation.

So, I want you guys to ride with me again this year. It's been a little over 121 hours into the new year, and I feel pretty good. Great, actually. Things are looking up, I got some exciting stuff coming down the pipeline, and finally, today... Atlas shrugged.

I don't feel like I got the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore. I did lose a couple of friends at the turn of the year, but it's for the best; I may have been a cancer to them, and I wouldn't want to impede them in any way. Don't get me wrong; I still love them, and I'll always have their back in anything they do, but I can't deal with the constant BS any longer. Time to focus on ME and what I deserve out of life.

Invisibility has it's perks and flaws; I'm never looked for when I don't want to be; yet, I'm never wanted when I want to be looked for. This year, I intend on becoming comfortable with that.

This is just the beginning. This is my story.

This is the soundtrack to my life.

----------------
Now playing: KiD CuDi - Soundtrack 2 My Life
via FoxyTunes

Day 365 (The Real Folk Blues)

The past is the past and the future is the future. A man is a man and a woman is a woman. The present is the present. I am who I am and you are who you are. That's all there is to it. Does it really matter? Or do we just think it does?

No end of the year diatribe. Just well wishes for everyone to have a happy new year.

I leave you with this: have the ability to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. If you want to dream, dream alone. That way, you control the outcome of your dreams.

Goodnight, 2009.

Day 364 (Separation Issues...)

Separate the real from the fake, the milk from the silicone
The cornbread from the pads, the gym from the Body Magic you put on at home
The glasses from the colored contacts, the natural from the weave
The handcuffed from the engaged, the truth from the lies you believe
The polish from the acrylic, the attention grabber from the attention whore
The woman you love from the woman you met at the grocery store
The beauty inside from the makeup made up on the outside
The one who has your heart from the one who can backslide


I'm having major separation issues, but I know exactly what to do...
Real recognize real... and I don't know you. *walks away*

Day 362 (Music Monday)

Things I Learned In 2009 #7: iTunes Shuffle hates my logic and embraces my emotions.

Let me explain.


So, on Twitter, Mondays are reserved for music, hence the hashtag #MusicMonday. Usually on Monday while I answer emails and silly questions (Her: Email me a copy of this email, please? Me: Um, I just did. In that very email.), I put my iTunes on random and let my near 40,000 songs go crazy.

Well, a couple of Mondays ago, I listened to a lot of stuff, from Korn to Tricky to the Seatbelts, even some Slum Village... but then it got kinda weird.

iTunes was trying to stab me in the heart.

Mayer Hawthorne. Portishead. Little Dragon. Corinne Bailey Rae. Röyksopp. Sia. Then towards the end of the day, it kicked me. Hard.

Adele came on.

And I wanted to throw my laptop out the window.

I have an unresolved issue with someone that I need to clear up in 3 days. I will not carry this bad memory into next year with me. I refuse to. At the same time, this person is going through their own emotional roller coaster, so part of me is saying it'll be selfish to add this to the list of problems they have, let it go; obviously they have, why not you?

The other part of me is screaming 'Does it matter?'

Logically, it doesn't matter. We haven't had a real conversation in almost 3 months. Logically, it's already dead and gone; nothing to answer, nothing to say. Logically, I'm the only person trying to save a friendship that's long gone. Logically, I need to just walk away.

However, music affects my emotions. Heavily. Has been doing so since 1988. Possibly earlier. So, when Adele's 'Melt My Heart To Stone' came on, logically, I was thinking in work mode.

But emotionally, I was cracking up. And I don't mean laughing.

Emotionally, I still want 2 questions of mine answered. Emotionally, I need closure. What's worse is, emotionally, if I don't get it, I'll do some foolishness.

With no logic involved.


But of course, this was all in my head (and in my ears). My heart has shed that old skin and moved forward to greener pastures. The minute Mos Def popped up in my mix, I was back to nodding my head and tapping my desk.

Why wait until 2010 to make a resolution that I can resolve now?

I refuse to let people make me their personal mood ring anymore. Your attitude and emotions will not affect my color. I've been through enough; no need to drag my heart through any more.

Music, though?

Yeah, music will still tug my heart strings.

Things I Learned In 2009 #7: iTunes Shuffle hates my logic and embraces my emotions.
----------------
Now playing: The Seatbelts - Memory
via FoxyTunes

Day 356 (2 Nights Before Christmas)

'Twas two nights before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, well, maybe my mouse;

Her stockings were hung on the door with care,

In hopes that I soon would be there;

She was nestled all snug in her bed,

While visions of breasts danced in my head;

And sexy mamma in her négligée, and I got my 'cap',

Got ready for 'work' and a "long winter's nap",

When out on the lawn I heard my car window shatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window *WAIT* I don't need to flash,

Pulled off the sheet and threw on the sash.

The moon on the breast of the now-gone snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to my car below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a wobbly Santa without eight reindeer,

With a little woman driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Mrs. St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his bags they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Sony! Now, iPod! Now, Mini TV's and Video Vixens!

On, GPS! On Gas Money! On, Droid, we blitzing!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!

To break in- he sees us! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So away from the house- down the street they flew,

With the car full of toys, (my toys) and Mrs. Claus too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard not a poof

But the squealing of tires- wait, did they break the moon roof?

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

I heard the back door crash with a sound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of my toys he had in his sack,

And he looked like a peddler just trying to sell them back.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

Until he realized it was him, that guy I know;

The stump of a blunt he held tight in his teeth,

And the weed smoke: it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a big Desert Eagle and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby, no, fat, a wrongfully jolly old elf,

And I got angry when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I not better chase him, instead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And took all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a what's up nod, he even took my wife's rose;

He sprang to his car, to his girl gave a whistle,

And away they both drove off like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to me, 'cause I'm robbing all night!"


© She Hate Me 2009
=============================

Totally random, I know. But I was bored. Meh.

Day 348 (Pieces...)

She was too big for him, he was too big for her; that was the truth. The relationship had never really progressed, it had simply fallen apart into a series of fragments.

She embodied everything that he'd ever wanted out of a life partner; spontaneity, humor, intelligence, sexiness.

He embodied everything that she'd ever wanted out of a life partner; sexiness, intelligence, humor, spontaneity.

Almost as if looking into a mirror. Almost as if they were soulmates. Almost as if they were twins.

To say he was scared is an overstatement. Nervous is more like it. He treated her like a Fabergé egg; put her on a pedestal that she never wanted to be on.

He knew this, yet he did it anyway.

In some ways, she was scared too. Too many times she thought to herself that this type of relationship doesn't exist, that the major issue was that there were no major issues. It made her nervous.

They parted ways, without communication, without acknowledgment. A series of fragments. Different people came along and picked up what pieces were left, but none were salvageable.

He missed looking at her; a forest that he could lose himself forever in: and almost did.

She missed being with him; quirky yet humorous charm, a sense of being and self realization.

Yet, for every time they thought about doing the dance again, another partner stepped in, the music would change, or the party would end.

For what seemed to be the first time in human history, 'what was' turned into 'what if'.

How disappointing for them. No glue to bond them together again. No bond strong enough to hold them together again. No more together again. The fantasy shattered.

Pieces, pieces.

Tiny. Splintering. Painful. Pieces.

Day 342 (The Game)

**NOTE** I began writing this back in July. I wanted to publish it, the problem was, the story had some hiccups and I.... never mind. However, I feel like I need to get this out. It is long, but it does have a point and purpose. Read it if you want to. Thank you. **END NOTE**






I sat there for 7-8 minutes.



Stunned.

She had left me in the car. Closed the door and went into her apartment building. Did tha- did that really just happen? I can't believe it.

I stare off into space replaying the events that happened today. I haven't moved a muscle since she said good night. Then, almost as if on cue, I start laughing.

Laughing hard and long. Laughing at myself. I was an idiot. The advantages were there, the opportunities were there, the openings presented themselves and what did I do?

Nothing.

In a daze, I start the car and pull off. I get to light at the end of the corner, and I hear two females outside yelling. I turn my head, and they are pointing at me. I can't hear them, all I hear is the blood rushing through my veins. The car behind me beeps the horn. The light has been green for a while. I make my left hand turn and drive over the bridge. I'm still in total disbelief. Was a spark there? Was that my chance for the first-

Horns are blaring at me. The car behind me is flashing his lights. I have no idea what for. I drive to the end of the corner, and a car pulls beside me. A man pops his head out the window and says "YO! CUT YOUR HEADLIGHTS ON!" I look down and see that I haven't cut my lights on. I haven't even buckled my seat belt.

I complete the aforementioned tasks and turn on the interstate. Immediately, my mind travels to 4 and a half hours earlier. Back when everything was cool. Back when I still had a plan.

Back when I was still in the game.
=============================================

She opens the car door and gets in. "So, how are you?"

I smile. She was always friendly. "I'm good, how are you? Ready to eat?"

"Yes! I'm starving!"

As I pulled away from the corner, I glanced at her. Wearing a mostly green top with splashes of brown, white and black colors interspersed, some black pants, and some green sandals, she looked quite beautiful. I chuckle to myself; she caught me staring. Check. Early.

"What?" She cocks her head to the side.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." I make eye contact.

"Hey, where are we going to eat?"

"Applebee's." I break eye contact. I'm out of check.

"Then, don't you think you need to be in the left lane?"

"Oh." I get into the left had lane and go down the road. We talk about the last time that we ate at Applebee's 4 weeks ago. As I turn into the parking lot, we bring up the reason why she didn't want to eat there.

"So, let me get this right. You don't want to eat here because that lady that was picking her feet and eating her food at the same time might be here?"

She laughs. "Exactly. This is why women let men think they are making the executive decisions, but in the end, the women make them. Oooh, this place is crowded."

I smirk. "Then I'm making an executive decision, and we're gonna go to Ruby Tuesday. How do you like them apples?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "Ruby Tuesday is fine. Kinda where I wanted to go in the first place, but you know..."

Damn. Even when I think I'm making the decision, she had made it already. My first line of defense is already gone.

A wrong turn and a couple of steering wheel grabs later, we end up at Ruby Tuesday. After getting seated and ordering our drinks, she takes off her sandals and places her feet on top of mine. We get comfortable and then the serious conversation begins.

"So, I've been thinking about what I told you last night."

"Hmm. And what have you been thinking, my dear?"

She looks deep into my eyes. I can hold this gaze for about 10 seconds tops before I have to turn away; her eyes are very arresting. "I don't think that a relationship will work between us." Check.

"Well, why not?" I ask.

"Because... because I don't want a 'yes man' and from what you've been telling me over the years about me and what you desire, you would give me everything I ever ask for, you would agree with me just to make me happy, and to be honest, I'm not this... this queen that you've built me up to be. If we get together, I'll make you think to your self 'I don't like this bitch as much as I thought I would'. I've done it to other men that I've dated. And I don't want to do that to you."

I sip my tea before I answer. "Is that what you think? You think that I'll be like other men? You think that I'll agree with you on whatever and not have my own opinion?"

"Ye-"

"It doesn't matter what you think, darling." She looks at me quizzically. I continue. "There is a difference between me and other men, quite frankly, they aren't me, could never be me, and I'm not them. So, don't lump me into the same position as them."

"I'm not doing that. I just know how other men have done with me and-"

"So, you're saying that I'll be like them. You won't give me an opportunity to prove you right by entering into a relationship with me, and if I say that I'm not like them, it's just words, it doesn't mean anything. Action speaks louder."

I can tell by the look on her face that she's impressed. I counter her check with one of my own.

We sit there for almost 45 minutes before we even order, and when we do order, we get the salad bar. The waitress, who was bubbly in the beginning, is upset that we don't even order off the menu. She grabs our menus and storm off.

We start talking about things we like and we realize that we have a lot more in common that we originally thought. It gets weird almost, like we were best friends growing up together. Then the obvious comes up; we have our first parity.

"Black Tux or White Tux at our wedding?"

I smile. "Black. Sorry, I'm not wearing white."

She frowns. "No, my husband will wear white."

"Then I guess I will become your husband then, I'm just not wearing white."

She cocks her head to the side. "Did you not hear me, I said my husband will wear whit-"

"I heard you." I interrupt her. "And this is proof positive that a relationship will work if we put in the work; I will NOT be your yes man, and I have my own ideas. You won't get everything you want from me, because I'm not wearing white. And if we disagree on that, something that important to you, what makes you think we won't disagree on other things?"

She smiles, then straightens her face up quickly. "Maybe we should go eat."

I shake my head. "Maybe we should."

She gets up. "But first, I need to fix my face in the restroom, you just said something fierce to me."

I smile. "Yeah, you should go do that." She smiles back and goes to the restroom. I put her into check.

=============================
The night continues like this, back and forth, check, check, check. At the parking lot at Wal-Mart, she had me in a MAJOR check, flirting with me, touching me, daring me to act on my carnal desires.

Walking between two cars to get to mine, she stops. I bump into her backside. I don't move. Neither does she.

"Do you like that? You like how it feels?" She began taunting me. "Go ahead. Touch it. You know you want to."

I swallow hard. My mouth gets dry immediately. "I- I, uh.." I clear my throat. "Yeah, I like that. but you better move before-"

She giggles. "Before what? What are you gonna do?" She turns around and whispers in my ear. "If I give it to you, would you take me right now in the parking lot?"

Check.

"I, uh. Hm. I don't think you want me to do it here. Not only would you like it, but we'd get arrested for lewd conduct and disturbing the peace because of noise ordnance." I stuttered that one out.

She laughs and walks to the car. "Uh huh. Right."

I'm out of check. But I'm not out of danger.

==================================
We go to a pool hall to shoot some pool. There's some trash talking, as we were prone to do and some teasing as well. Our body language has let the other patrons looking at her sensual walk and my confident stride know that we are in competition with each other; not only for the domination of the table, but for control of the sexual tension building between us. I easily take the first game. The second game is where things got interesting... and where I lost my most important pieces.

Frowning playfully she says, "OK, you won. Your break." She smiles at me.

I rack the pool balls and prepare to break when I see her bent over the other end of the pool table. Her cleavage is deep; she's pulling her shirt down a lot lower than what it was.

"Um, don't you want to move? This cue ball gets jumpy when I break."

She grins. "You don't worry about me. Just break."

I chuckle. "I can't, you're in the way."

She grins harder. "OK, I'll move." She stands up and walks over to me. She comes close to my ear and...

...does nothing but breathe.

"Can you break now? I would like to play today."

I take a deep breath and prepare my shot. As I push my cue stick forward, she blows a short and light stream of air in my ear. My arm jerks, my shot goes wide, and I scratch on break.

We're tied 1-1.

Also, I'm in check.

She smiles as she goes to reset the pool balls. I shake my head.

Now I scowl playfully. "OK, you win, your break." I grin.

She shakes her head. "I can't break that well."

I smile. "Here. Let me help you." She holds the pool stick properly as I come from behind her and hold her. She grinds her backside into my crotch. I ignore the swelling in my slacks as I whisper in her ear.

"Hold the stick like this. That's right. Make sure you grip it well with your right hand. And tight. Move the stick up and down like this with your left hand. Good. Now pull back as far as you can go and..."

She goes to make her shot and I lightly kiss the back of her neck. Her shot goes wild, the cue ball lands on the floor, and she laughs.

She asked, "What was that?"

I smile. "Nothing. You did good, though."

We continue like this through three more games. At one point, she privately shows me her breasts while I was trying to make the game winning shot. At another point, I slap her ass while she's trying to make a shot. The sexual tension has grown to a fever pitch. We exit the establishment and I lose my queen.

In the parking lot, she stops and asks me a question.

"So, you grabbed it. Squeezed it. Did you like how it felt?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I could never get the right handle on a pool stick."

She chuckles. "You know what I'm talking about. When you were behind me, did you imagine you handling this from the back?" She bends over slightly.

"I didn't imagine anything." I'm trying not to look at her curves, but my eyes defy me.

She sneers gently. "Oh really? Well, I felt your friend, and your friend said that he liked it. A lot. And HE was definitely thinking about handling this from the back."

I laugh. "Well, he does have a mind of his own."

I go to open the car door for her and she comes close. She unbuckles my pants and puts her hand on my member.

"Maybe not right now... but you MIGHT be able to handle this." She laughs and gets in the car.

I stand there. Stunned. My heart racing a million miles a minute. I feel every beat of my heart in my throat and in my boxers. My Queen is gone.

Check.

As we are going back to her home for me to drop her off, she leans over and puts her head on my shoulder.

"You're quiet. Did I go to far?"

I shake my head while smiling. "No. I'm imagining right now."

"What's on your mind, honey?" She scoots closer.

As we pull up in front of her place, I let her know. "Kissing you. Wondering what your tongue would taste like in my mouth. Wondering if our tongues will match pace with each other. Wondering if we kiss, how far we will go."

Silence.

We stare at each other for a long time. The heat in the car has risen; I'm starting to get a dry mouth. She looks at me. I look at her. She smiles slowly. I do the same. I move in for the kiss and...

"Ok, I'm going in the house now. Call me when you get home safely?"

I stammer. "Wait, what? That's it?"

She laughs. "What do you mean 'That's it?' Yeah, that's it. It IS the end of the date, you know."

Damn. Checkmate. My kingdom, toppled by a queen.

She leans back in the car and kisses me on the cheek. "I guess maybe next time, you'll want to stop wondering and just do it. Good night, honey."

She closes the door and walks up the sidewalk. She turns around and waves, then laughs because I still have the same 'I can't believe that just happened' look on my face. She walks up to her door and disappears inside.

I sat there for 7-8 minutes.



Stunned.

She had left me in the car. Closed the door and went into her apartment building. Did tha- did that really just happen? I can't believe it.

I've just been checkmated. In a game that I didn't even know I was playing until my King was toppled. I was toyed with all across the board, from beginning to end. From the first move I made, I was a Pawn pretending to be King. I was bested tonight. I was checkmated.


And I enjoyed every last minute of it.

----------------
Now playing: Common - I Want You
via FoxyTunes

Tiger... 1 Wood, 2 (or 3?) different holes...

Ok, so, normally, I'm not that outspoken.

I'm lying.

I'm outspoken to a degree. When I see a topic that I passionately care about, I usually can argue debate all day about it.

Today, I logged onto Twitter, and I see people talking about Tiger and his inability to keep it at home.


As if you were really that surprised.


It has NOTHING to do with him being a MAN. It had EVERYTHING to do with him being RICH.

What's crazy is, people were trending (#side chick awareness) as if it was some sort of rules to being a man (or a woman's) side piece. Here's a shocker for you:

THERE. ARE. NO. RULES.

Once you make that conscience decision to cheat, the rules are done. Somebody in the "relationship" is going to get hurt. I used relationship in quotation marks because it's not real. It wasn't real the minute you didn't speak to your partner about what you were feeling.

Communication is key in a relationship. I've preached that since forever.

Anyway, I didn't want to get into it at first because I'm nobody's mirror. I'm no Dr. Phil (yeah, I don't give people a bunch of psychobabble and call it "help") and I was just indifferent about the whole thing.

But four friends of mine told me to go in. I smiled, cracked my knuckles, and here's the end result: **NOTE: I'm not changing one word of what I said. I may be adding a word here or there because Twitter only allows 140 characters at a time, but this is what I said, verbatim.**
=========================
First off, Men: Stop letting these million (and billion) dollar dudes dictate how you act with your wife. They can afford to cheat. You can't. Steve Harvey can marry and divorce to his heart's content. Why? He got money. So does Shaq. Apparently, so does Tiger. You? NO. You still work 50 hour work weeks. And some woman walks in the office with a short skirt; next thing you know, you knocking it down. Then you wonder why your woman, your sister & your momma calls you a dog. Because you are. Period. Stop blaming women for YOUR lack of will. Pussy has NO power, as long as you don't give it any. If you in a relationship, there IS no side chick. There's the woman you "love" and the women you "fucking". That's it. But you don't see that, do you? You don't love her. Stupid motherfucker. If you love her, ask her to suck your dick differently. Ask her to wear a wig. Ask her to dress up. Ask her to stop (or start) bitching. Women who LOVE their man are willing to be a different woman EVERY night for him. Period. You simple dudes don't know that, because you don't ASK. Closed mouths don't get fed, you thirsty bastards.

Now, women: (Oh yes, you gets it too...) STOP LOOKING AT OTHER WOMEN'S MEN. *ahem* You want to know the REAL reason why men cheat? Because some women can't keep their pussy at home. YOU KNOW HE WITH HER. But you don't care. "He got money." "He got good credit." "She told me he be SLANGING that thing." And you're jealous. You're a woman. Men aren't THAT hard to find. A good one? Yes. But hell, if you wanted a good man, you'd be a good woman. Logic, ladies. Stop blaming men for being "dogs". You're a "bitch", what does that say about you? I'm not talking physically, but DAMN. Can you straighten up? Stop asking for HIS money. You got your own, right? Stop driving HIS car. You ALWAYS singing Beyonce, then act like her. BE YOUR OWN WOMAN. BE YOURSELF. If your besty is a slore, chances are, so are you. You are the company you keep, you know.

It's not that hard to be committed, ladies and gentlemen. You find a woman you like, don't lie to her, and it's ALL GOOD. Ladies, stop playing mind games. It's ok to say you really like him. Your best friend just mad cause she didn't talk to him first. Men, stop trying to be MACHO. Nigga, you got feelings, too. So what, you like the girl enough to shred your "Playa's Card". Who cares? That's ONE LESS WOMAN after me when I get involved with someone. If men kept their women happy, there would be no cheating men. And vice versa. *drops mic*
=================

That was pretty much it. It's one or two points that I didn't say on Twitter that I will say now. First off, it's not about Tiger being a man and that old "all men cheat" thing. It's not. Stop deluding yourself.

Tiger is an ignorant rich person.

You don't believe me, huh? Ok. Look at it this way:

Tiger tells his wife the truth, long before he cheats. "I'm not attracted to you that much anymore. Sex is disgusting with you. You're boring. You're turning black. Blah, blah, blah. I want to get some other women." Once he does that, Elin has two choices: stay, or go. If she stays, she enjoys the money, the lifestyle, etc. If she goes, she gets NOTHING. Why? There was no breech of the pre-nuptial agreement. He didn't cheat, he simply told her he wanted to. In the state of Florida, where they live, a significant other cannot receive damages for irreconcilable differences if they have a pre-nup. So, Elin gets nothing. She walks away with her dignity... and a couple of thousand dollars. Logically speaking, Tiger could've have put her in a "kept woman" status. Us, the public? None the wiser, unless he passed away first from old age and she releases a tell-all book.

And for those that are thinking only rich men do that, well....

*looks at Oprah and Stedman.... looks at Debra L. Lee and her kept man*

ANYWHO...

Leslie McRay (Google her) was the most famous kept woman in all of Hollywood. THAT'S how you play the game, folks.

If you're going to play, know the rules.

Tiger didn't know the rules, and he's paying for it, BIG TIME. The women who are outing themselves as Tiger's side pieces may find a man to be with them for right now... but come on. Yeah, you're fine (subjective, you're not all that cute to me), but what does it matter? All you are is an object for a man's pleasure. You may have gotten the best of them, but only after they got what they wanted from you to begin with. They got the best you had to offer. Those decent men that you're gonna say don’t exist, but really do… well, they don’t exist, not for you. They are going to pass you over. Let’s face it… you aren’t what they call ‘relationship material.’ You’re the type that most men wouldn’t clean their homes for, let alone the backseat of their cars. Because when men smile at you… you know what’s behind that smile. All you are is a beautiful body with an ugly soul. People may want you, but nobody will love you.

And that goes doubly true for men with all money and no soul. Money can only get you so much... love is NOT one of them.

Two, for both sexes: Yes, I truly believe that if you love your wife/S.O./girlfriend, then you shouldn't cheat. Bottom line. However (and this is NOT a pass to cheat, people), if you eat chicken every night in the same way, one night, beef is gonna look REAL GOOD to you. Even if someone cooked that beef wrong as hell, you'll eat it anyway because you're tired of that same old chicken.

But, there are over 1,000 different ways to cook chicken. Even if you take 365 of those ways and cook chicken differently every night, you'll be happy when that first dish comes back around.

Even better, you'll find out what chicken dishes you REALLY like and ask for them more often. Soon, you won't even care about beef.

Now replace the food with your relationship.

It's truly simple. And for those that say it isn't, that it's hard because of whatever wack ass reason you come up with, I say this to you: Are you single right now? Because if not...

...you're gonna be. And it's all your fault. Period.


Let's stop worrying about Tiger. He'll be fine. You have to make a mistake to learn a lesson sometimes, and he just did. I promise, Elin isn't going nowhere. Look at Vanessa, Kobe's wife.

Exactly.

Take a moment to asses your relationship before you comment on someone else's relationship. There are women and men who want their S.O. to only have them in their life, but they got 50 other women and men floating around.


If you're cool with being second place, by all means, play your position and shut the hell up about it. If you know you're the side piece, you can't get mad when s/he cuts you off, or when S/HE cuts him/her off and s/he has to cut YOU off.


OH, and a free piece of advice: If you're in a relationship and you just HAVE to cheat, STOP LEAVING A ELECTRONIC TRAIL. Tiger, nigga, you worth a billion dollars! Get your gopher to go to this girl house and break her damn SIM card! Stop sending emails and texts and pictures! If you know you in a relationship, your side piece should be Santa Claus: that person don't exist! Never have, never will! You might see her/him dressed up in the mall certain seasons, but it's just a costume! A figment of your imagination!

*sigh*


I think I'm too smart for my own good. I just outed every person cheating.

Oh well. Better chances for me to find a good woman.

Day 335 (Astronomy...)

Things I Learned In 2009 #6: There is still beauty left in this world.

Tonight, I saw a Halo around the moon. I was amazed. While I studied the phenomenon of Halos around the moon in Astronomy in college, I had never seen one myself. It was the most amazing thing I've seen this year. What is a Halo, you ask?

A halo (also known as a nimbus, icebow or Gloriole) is an optical phenomenon produced by ice crystals creating colored or white arcs and spots in the sky. Many are near the sun or moon but others are elsewhere and even in the opposite part of the sky. They can also form around artificial lights in very cold weather when ice crystals called diamond dust are floating in the nearby air.

What I saw tonight was a circular halo. It made me think and realize that there are still very beautiful things that I have not experienced yet in this world, and that I need to take time out to experience them. I called a friend of mine and woke her out of bed to see it. At first, she thought something was wrong but once I got her to step outside (and after calmly telling her that the moon is not falling), she also thought that it was beautiful.

I think the halo is a wake up call for me. I've been doing things off base for the past month; acting really out of character for myself. Emotionally, I've been stable, but mentally, I've been in and out of things, and this halo made me realize that I need to put things back in all the right spots so that I can go into this next decade with a renewed sense of self.

To everyone I've ever hurt and to everyone that hurt me: I'm sorry and I forgive you.

To everyone that I support and to everyone that supports me: Thank you and you're welcome.

To everyone I've ever loved and to everyone that has ever loved me: *salutes* You are truly respected.

To everyone that loves me now and to everyone I love now: You are truly appreciated.


Things I Learned In 2009 #6: There is still beauty left in this world.


P.S. You're the shining example of beauty still left in this world, Ladybug. *bacio di bacio*

Day 318 (Twice)

Twice I turn my back on you
I fell flat on my face but didn't lose
Tell me where would I go
Tell me what led you on, I’d love to know

Was it the blue night
Gone fragile
Was it both men
In wonder steady gone under
Was it the light ways
So frightening
Was it two wills
One mirror holding us dearer now

Thought I had an answer once
But your random ways swept me along
Colossal signs so I got lost
With so many lovers singing soft

Was it the blue night
Gone fragile
Was it both men
In wonder steady gone under
Was it the light ways
So frightening
Was it two wills
One mirror holding us dearer now

----------------
Now playing: Little Dragon - Twice
via FoxyTunes

Day 313

Things I've Learned In 2009

#5. I found out the reason why I'm single.

Before I begin, let me say this. This is in no way firing at every single female in world. I have yet to meet you. You have yet to befriend me. I have yet to talk to you. You have yet to lie to me. I have yet to give you my all. You have yet to disappoint me.

With that being said, let's begin.

My Ladybug tells me that I'm worth every dollar and cent spent.
My Poetess tells me that I'm dreamy.
Dimples tells me that I'm patient enough to wait for a good thing to come along.
My Sugar Momma tells me that I'm loved, every day, whether I know it or not.
My Mistress tells me that I'm a genius; that leadership is sexy, brains are sexy, therefore, I am sexy.
Chesty McSparkles (her name, not mine) tells me that I'm damn near incredible.
My Best Friend says that I'm awesome and someone one day will realize that.
Serendipity says that I'm a very good man.
My Sister says I'm one of the best single men left.


The problem comes in where these women are telling me things that I SHOULD already know. However, I'm dense. I can't get past that people are actually saying this about me.

I'm single because I have a self-esteem issue.

My self-esteem issue is the reason why I settle for those who can't afford me.

I settle because I don't know my own self-worth.

Well, I didn't. Until about a week and a half ago.


I love me enough to know that you don't (and won't) love me enough. Ever.

And you know what? That's OK. I had to come to grips about that.


I'm worth a hell of a lot. And one day, some woman will come along and hold up the receipt and let me know that she was willing to pay to have me. Until that day?


I sit in the glass case of my emotions and thoughts, waiting on someone who has enough to pay the price on my tag.

#5. I found out the reason why I'm single. Nobody worth having thinks I'm worth having. Yet.