I was driving home Sunday night and I saw an accident. It was completely avoidable and you know how I know this? It was like I saw the whole thing in slow motion. You know one of those times where you're looking at say a horror movie and you're saying to yourself, "He's not gonna do that....oh my god, yes he is...aww this is gonna be bad...here it comes...HA!....DUMBa$$."
Now what kills me, is this is like the fifty-leventh time I've seen an accident actually happen here in Atlanta. I've addressed this before to some Atlanta residents, and they give me the lame excuse that since so many people are from out of town, Atlanta has managed to become the trash can for every garbage driver in America. In retort, I say I have yet to see an out of state license on a car that's been in an accident.
Now I don't know how easy it is to get a Georgia license (apparently all you have to have is a WANT to drive), as I am too a transplant, but there seems to be a serious lack of a skills standard. Let's set some rules here:
1. Any old person that requires those big ol' Kool Moe Dee glasses should NOT be able to drive. (This doesn't have to be explained)
2. Any person that drives an old skool chevy with a dent in it should have their license stripped on the spot. (Sorry to 75% of Atlanta black males under the age of 24, but homie, those cars are metal, meaning you would demolish every other car made after 1975, as they are plastic, and you drive like you know that fact)
3. All women between 16-24 should have to have those driver education brake pedals installed in the passenger side of their vehicles. (The numbers don't lie. One study reported that women in this age group are twice as likely to use their cell phone while driving as men. Studies show that using your cell phone while driving significantly decreases your driving ability. One and one equals...)
As this list could become quite expansive, I will choose to end it here. But if you still don't believe me about the Atlanta traffic, google "Atlanta worst drivers" and see how many hits you get....game.set.match.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
The Cost of Good Health
Now I have just come back from the grocery store and I'm compelled to write about something that has been irritating me for a while. I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels the way I do.
I like to think of myself as someone who generally watches what they eat. I wouldn't call myself a dieter, just someone that generally prescribes to healthy eating patterns. As I walked through the store to reload on my basic diet, turkey burgers, tuna, eggs, and ramen noodles (yea I said it), I was once again struck by how much these items actually COST.
As I walked down the aisles to pick up my items, I noticed that my high protein bars were going at $6 for a box of 4 bars, while as I continued shopping, one couldn't help but notice the proliferation of "2 for $3" specials on cookies. Or when I looked for my honey bunches of oats cereal, which is $5 a box for the family size, while the frosted flakes were going for 2 for $6 in the family size. It occurred to me, why does, in one of the fattest countries in the world, does it cost so much to eat healthy? With the yearly parade of health initiatives by celebrities and politicians, why hasn't anyone come up with the genius idea of discounting healthy products?
Studies show that much of people eating selections, especially for families, are based on monetary reasons. Quite simply, it is cheaper to buy a 24 pack of doritos variety bags than to buy banana chips for your children to take to school. I think back to my own childhood, and ponder that maybe the reason we had so many snacks around wasn't just because we liked them, but we couldn't afford to eat anything different.
This also led me to think about the food options in lower class neighborhoods. Studies show that poorer and nonwhite neighborhoods also have fewer fruit and vegetable markets, bakeries, specialty stores, and natural food stores. Also, poor children have higher rates of obesity (around 20 percent of all poor children) than do nonpoor children (around 15 percent). To make these numbers more real, one study found that, while 58 percent of food stores on New York City 's Upper East Side stocked the low-fat, high-fiber foods health professionals recommend as part of a diet to control diabetes, only 18 percent of stores in East Harlem stocked these foods. Also, in the Detroit metropolitan area, for example, the poorest African American neighborhoods are an average of 1.1 miles further from the nearest supermarket than are impoverished white neighborhoods.
I don't know about you, but to me this is a PROBLEM. I'm just ranting...I'm done now.
I like to think of myself as someone who generally watches what they eat. I wouldn't call myself a dieter, just someone that generally prescribes to healthy eating patterns. As I walked through the store to reload on my basic diet, turkey burgers, tuna, eggs, and ramen noodles (yea I said it), I was once again struck by how much these items actually COST.
As I walked down the aisles to pick up my items, I noticed that my high protein bars were going at $6 for a box of 4 bars, while as I continued shopping, one couldn't help but notice the proliferation of "2 for $3" specials on cookies. Or when I looked for my honey bunches of oats cereal, which is $5 a box for the family size, while the frosted flakes were going for 2 for $6 in the family size. It occurred to me, why does, in one of the fattest countries in the world, does it cost so much to eat healthy? With the yearly parade of health initiatives by celebrities and politicians, why hasn't anyone come up with the genius idea of discounting healthy products?
Studies show that much of people eating selections, especially for families, are based on monetary reasons. Quite simply, it is cheaper to buy a 24 pack of doritos variety bags than to buy banana chips for your children to take to school. I think back to my own childhood, and ponder that maybe the reason we had so many snacks around wasn't just because we liked them, but we couldn't afford to eat anything different.
This also led me to think about the food options in lower class neighborhoods. Studies show that poorer and nonwhite neighborhoods also have fewer fruit and vegetable markets, bakeries, specialty stores, and natural food stores. Also, poor children have higher rates of obesity (around 20 percent of all poor children) than do nonpoor children (around 15 percent). To make these numbers more real, one study found that, while 58 percent of food stores on New York City 's Upper East Side stocked the low-fat, high-fiber foods health professionals recommend as part of a diet to control diabetes, only 18 percent of stores in East Harlem stocked these foods. Also, in the Detroit metropolitan area, for example, the poorest African American neighborhoods are an average of 1.1 miles further from the nearest supermarket than are impoverished white neighborhoods.
I don't know about you, but to me this is a PROBLEM. I'm just ranting...I'm done now.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
What to Wear What to Wear
So I call myself going to the mall to buy a new shirt the other day. Now what I really wanted was a Lacoste polo, preferably Carolina blue. I'm heading back into town from Lithonia so I tell myself I'll stop at South Dekalb Mall and pick up one. I head for the Macy's first. I look around the entire men's department. NO POLOS. Sean John? Check. Rocafella? Check. Enyce? Check. Now those brands I expected, but Izod? Check. After being dumbfounded at Macy's, my inner optimist says maybe they'll have it at another store. I proceed to enter into every single men's clothing store in the entire South Dekalb Mall. NO POLOS. After about the 3rd store, I decide to shift my focus to tshirts. As you can guess South Dekalb Mall is a full service mall for ATL trap ni#@as. From Miskeen to spray paint to personalized R.I.P shirts, South Dekalb can have any certified hood star dressed in the finest dope boy gear in any assortment of colors.
Now as I'm noticing that my mission is failing miserably, I ask myself, "Am I that out of style?" I'd like to think I have some sense of style. But I just couldn't figure out why anyone would want to wear a tshirt with sleeves that only go halfway down your bicep. I also couldn't understand what is the obsession with skulls and snakes. It seems like that's the logo for 20 different clothing lines. And call me crazy, but I like to match my shoes with my attire. Now because I like to do that, I will never be able to purchase half the shirts at the mall because they have 25 different colors on one shirt. I remember a time when men only saw in primary colors, but nowadays it seems "hood" to rock fuschia and neon yellow. And it's not like anyone makes fuschia and neon yellow shoes so how do you coordinate? Custom shoes for every shirt? Do what you do, but that seems kinda corny to me.
Anyways, I say all that to say, why isn't there a place where I can purchase clothes for every facet of me? Sometimes ya boy wants to wear Lacoste. Sometimes I want to wear a white tee. Sometimes I want to wear some Famous Stars and Straps. Why do I have to go to different places to dress the "Jeezy" and "Poitier" in me?
Isn't that part of the beauty of our people to take any attire and make it our own?
Now as I'm noticing that my mission is failing miserably, I ask myself, "Am I that out of style?" I'd like to think I have some sense of style. But I just couldn't figure out why anyone would want to wear a tshirt with sleeves that only go halfway down your bicep. I also couldn't understand what is the obsession with skulls and snakes. It seems like that's the logo for 20 different clothing lines. And call me crazy, but I like to match my shoes with my attire. Now because I like to do that, I will never be able to purchase half the shirts at the mall because they have 25 different colors on one shirt. I remember a time when men only saw in primary colors, but nowadays it seems "hood" to rock fuschia and neon yellow. And it's not like anyone makes fuschia and neon yellow shoes so how do you coordinate? Custom shoes for every shirt? Do what you do, but that seems kinda corny to me.
Anyways, I say all that to say, why isn't there a place where I can purchase clothes for every facet of me? Sometimes ya boy wants to wear Lacoste. Sometimes I want to wear a white tee. Sometimes I want to wear some Famous Stars and Straps. Why do I have to go to different places to dress the "Jeezy" and "Poitier" in me?
Isn't that part of the beauty of our people to take any attire and make it our own?
Sign of the Apocalypse
I saw a 12 year old rapper named Lil' D perform a song called "Skeet 'Em Down" at the Sweet Auburn Festival...
Sunday, September 23, 2007
HATERS
Let's just talk about haters for a second. Haters are everywhere. They may be your friends. They may be your family. They come in many different sizes, shapes, and genders.
With that being said, let me get into what I, so creatively I might add, call "hater logic". Haters justify their existence by saying things like, "Hey, I'm just being honest" or "I'm saying this as a friend". They use this "hater logic" because to them, and to the untrained mind, it makes sense. Certainly there are some honest people who are wrongfully called haters. But to truly identify someone as a hater, one must take into account the amount of so called "honest opinions" a hater may offer. If you spend an evening with a hater, take a note of how many comments are being made with negative connotations or insinuations within them. A hater will give a preponderance of "honest opinions" that always seem to be demeaning or belittling to someone around them. It's a fine line between cracking a joke and disseminating your hate, so hater detectors beware.
The advanced hater will also use subtle phrases to "soften" the hate such as "This is just my opinion" and "No disrespect, but". These phrases are meant to help the hater bypass your personal "anti-hater comment" security checkpoint. But the professional hater detector understands that putting a glove on my hand doesn't mean I can't still knock yo mutha f#@kin a$$ out ya dig?
Note to those amateurs who want to use this information to graduate to professional levels of hater detection. Once a hater is discovered, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT tell a hater that he/she is a hater. Much like trying to tell a smartass they don't know everything or attempting to convince a sididdy chick she really ain't that fine, this line of conversation only leads to mindnumbing frustration, more hateration spewed, and possibly, if you don't recognize the game, a plethora of "strong talk"(for those without the ability to deduce the meaning of self explanatory ebonics, aggressive and loud speaking).
When a hater is recognized, pull out your pen and pad, add them to the list, silently congratulate yourself on gaining yet another (or your first) hater, and keep it pushin. Though it may be difficult, you must "Dr. King" your haters and treat them with love and respect. That is unless they put they hands on ya.
With that being said, let me get into what I, so creatively I might add, call "hater logic". Haters justify their existence by saying things like, "Hey, I'm just being honest" or "I'm saying this as a friend". They use this "hater logic" because to them, and to the untrained mind, it makes sense. Certainly there are some honest people who are wrongfully called haters. But to truly identify someone as a hater, one must take into account the amount of so called "honest opinions" a hater may offer. If you spend an evening with a hater, take a note of how many comments are being made with negative connotations or insinuations within them. A hater will give a preponderance of "honest opinions" that always seem to be demeaning or belittling to someone around them. It's a fine line between cracking a joke and disseminating your hate, so hater detectors beware.
The advanced hater will also use subtle phrases to "soften" the hate such as "This is just my opinion" and "No disrespect, but". These phrases are meant to help the hater bypass your personal "anti-hater comment" security checkpoint. But the professional hater detector understands that putting a glove on my hand doesn't mean I can't still knock yo mutha f#@kin a$$ out ya dig?
Note to those amateurs who want to use this information to graduate to professional levels of hater detection. Once a hater is discovered, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT tell a hater that he/she is a hater. Much like trying to tell a smartass they don't know everything or attempting to convince a sididdy chick she really ain't that fine, this line of conversation only leads to mindnumbing frustration, more hateration spewed, and possibly, if you don't recognize the game, a plethora of "strong talk"(for those without the ability to deduce the meaning of self explanatory ebonics, aggressive and loud speaking).
When a hater is recognized, pull out your pen and pad, add them to the list, silently congratulate yourself on gaining yet another (or your first) hater, and keep it pushin. Though it may be difficult, you must "Dr. King" your haters and treat them with love and respect. That is unless they put they hands on ya.
Random
This one is for the fellas...
Me personally, I prefer to to use the bathroom at my own house. Not just when I want to sit on my porcelain throne, but also when I need to "no. 1". That being said....
Have you ever been out, at the club, or in a movie or sumthin, and...during a lull in the movie or in mental stimulation...you think to yourself, "Hey I think I might need to go to the bathroom." But then right after that thought occurs, mental stimulation comes right back and you forget about it. Well then when you are driving home, you're thinking, "DAMN, I gotta use the restroom." It's really not that serious until...as SOON as you bust in the door, your lil man goes haywire. It turns into a damn porcelain detector and it needs release. The closer you get to the toilet, the more pressure builds up....You end up doin a lil James Brown dance while you're messin with your zipper
On many occasions after a long night out, I can recall damn near pissing myself due to ignoring mother nature's signals...
Maybe it's only me...I know...random...
Me personally, I prefer to to use the bathroom at my own house. Not just when I want to sit on my porcelain throne, but also when I need to "no. 1". That being said....
Have you ever been out, at the club, or in a movie or sumthin, and...during a lull in the movie or in mental stimulation...you think to yourself, "Hey I think I might need to go to the bathroom." But then right after that thought occurs, mental stimulation comes right back and you forget about it. Well then when you are driving home, you're thinking, "DAMN, I gotta use the restroom." It's really not that serious until...as SOON as you bust in the door, your lil man goes haywire. It turns into a damn porcelain detector and it needs release. The closer you get to the toilet, the more pressure builds up....You end up doin a lil James Brown dance while you're messin with your zipper
On many occasions after a long night out, I can recall damn near pissing myself due to ignoring mother nature's signals...
Maybe it's only me...I know...random...
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Man-made Television
I just got the chance to finally watch Season 4 of the best show on television, HBO's The Wire (If you happen to disagree and you are male, I will be forced to pull out every straight black man's trump card and question your sexuality). I was waiting for it to get on dvd (you know ya homie ain't payin 25$ a month for ONE series). One of my coworkers told me that he had managed to TiVo all of season 4. To my delight, he also had put all of the episodes on disc and offered to bring it in. Of course, I accepted and after 2 damn near sleepless nights, I was able to finish Season 4. The next day I couldn't wait to get to work to talk about the show (lame, but true).
While we were discussing the greatness of the show (details of the show are withheld in case you've been in a coma or aliens snatched your tv) and also demeaning one of my male coworkers for having never watched the show (Re-runs on BET don't count), it occurred to me, we were talking like women do about soaps. What is really the difference between the way were loudly talking about who got shot, what ninja acted b$#ch-made, and whose a$$ we would beat on GP, and when females get to talking about what happened on the season finale of Girlfriends or Sex and the City? The only difference is foul language, guns, crackheads, and random molly whoppin.
BUT, there is a difference, MEN DON'T WATCH SOAPS. Soaps are predictable. You KNOW rich-a$$ Melissa is gonna take rich-a$$ Heather's man, causing Heather to come up with some stupendously stupid plan to kill Melissa, when her otherwise fine a$$ could just as easily get another man or pool boy or whatever. The only predictability in men's television is that SOMEBODY gon get they a$$ whooped. We KNOW Bubbs is gonna get the crack fumes beat out of his a$$ at least once a week. Everything else is up in the air.
Subtle difference? Maybe. Enough of a difference that I'll write about it? Clearly.
While we were discussing the greatness of the show (details of the show are withheld in case you've been in a coma or aliens snatched your tv) and also demeaning one of my male coworkers for having never watched the show (Re-runs on BET don't count), it occurred to me, we were talking like women do about soaps. What is really the difference between the way were loudly talking about who got shot, what ninja acted b$#ch-made, and whose a$$ we would beat on GP, and when females get to talking about what happened on the season finale of Girlfriends or Sex and the City? The only difference is foul language, guns, crackheads, and random molly whoppin.
BUT, there is a difference, MEN DON'T WATCH SOAPS. Soaps are predictable. You KNOW rich-a$$ Melissa is gonna take rich-a$$ Heather's man, causing Heather to come up with some stupendously stupid plan to kill Melissa, when her otherwise fine a$$ could just as easily get another man or pool boy or whatever. The only predictability in men's television is that SOMEBODY gon get they a$$ whooped. We KNOW Bubbs is gonna get the crack fumes beat out of his a$$ at least once a week. Everything else is up in the air.
Subtle difference? Maybe. Enough of a difference that I'll write about it? Clearly.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Your Favorite Rapper's Favorite Rapper
Now as some of you may or may not know, I am working for a local entertainment company. The company specializes in artist development and music consultation. Basically, we develop raw, unsigned talent into packaged, "sign"-able talent.
When clients sign up with us, we like to have a consultation scheduled with them ASAP to get all the music they have made so far, and to see where their head/heads is/are at in terms of work ethic and commitment to success.
Now one of the guys I work with, we'll call him Jared, who is also one of the lead consultants, likes to ask clients a series of general questions he uses to gauge their commitment to music/work ethic. One of the first questions he likes to ask is "Who is your favorite rapper?" (Sidenote: Our clients are primarily hip hop acts.) Every client is quick to name rappers that they think are hot or that they want to be like. The names are pretty standard as well (Jay, Weezy, Outkast, T.I., Diddy believe it or not, Nas, to name a few that we hear). Jared likes to then follow up with, "Okay. Give me a verse from one of's songs." What is surprising, and deeply disturbing at the same time, is that 95% of the clients that come in CANNOT recite a SINGLE verse of their favorite rapper's music. One that deeply hurt me, was when one of our clients, who is in a rap group from Memphis, who also claims that he's from Cali (who says they're from "Cali"? Can I get a city? A county? Cali is BIG, you bobblehead ninja!) was asked to recite the first verse from NWA's classic record "F#@k tha Police". This BUSTER couldn't even START the song!
What's even crazier to me, is that Jared used to ask the clients to recite verses from old school legends like Rakim, Run D.M.C., or KRS One, but he had to ask about recent artists because NOBODY knew any of their songs. So he decided to start asking people to give lines of their favorite rappers'. You would think this would increase the percentage of correct answers.....NOPE.
Not knowing the music of the people that STARTED hip hop is disturbing enough, but to not knowing the music of the person you say you're trying to emulate is more than just disturbing, that's, well, RETARDED (no offense to actual retarded individuals). Quite frankly, my ninja, you STOOPID. How can anyone say they want to be something, and not be able to cite the work of someone who is successful doing what YOU want to do? Without that foundation, you're destined to fail.
Examples of client stoopidity:
One client claimed to be the first really lyrical group from the South. Hello? Anybody home? Outkast?
Another client had started his verse with the hook from Run DMC's song "King of Rock" (I'm the king of rock, there is none higher/sucker mc's should call me sire). When asked where he got the verse from, he said....drumroll please.....you guessed it....T.I.!
Another client (R&B artist) came in and sang a "remake" or rather he just re-worded it, of the 70's soul group The Crusaders' song "Street Life", and when asked whose song he had just sung, he "couldn't recall."
Now maybe, this is why Nas said hip hop is dead. A lot of these new rap artists don't really appreciate the music or respect the craft. Just think, when we're all old and our brand of hip hop is considered old school, whose songs will we be playing when we're sunday driving? Jeezy? Or Common? Joc? Or Jay?
There is a problem with today's music, and I applaud Jared for being on the front lines and doing the best he can to fix it. I'm gonna do what I can too. I haven't bought an actual cd in a while. I'm gonna buy Common.
When clients sign up with us, we like to have a consultation scheduled with them ASAP to get all the music they have made so far, and to see where their head/heads is/are at in terms of work ethic and commitment to success.
Now one of the guys I work with, we'll call him Jared, who is also one of the lead consultants, likes to ask clients a series of general questions he uses to gauge their commitment to music/work ethic. One of the first questions he likes to ask is "Who is your favorite rapper?" (Sidenote: Our clients are primarily hip hop acts.) Every client is quick to name rappers that they think are hot or that they want to be like. The names are pretty standard as well (Jay, Weezy, Outkast, T.I., Diddy believe it or not, Nas, to name a few that we hear). Jared likes to then follow up with, "Okay. Give me a verse from one of
What's even crazier to me, is that Jared used to ask the clients to recite verses from old school legends like Rakim, Run D.M.C., or KRS One, but he had to ask about recent artists because NOBODY knew any of their songs. So he decided to start asking people to give lines of their favorite rappers'. You would think this would increase the percentage of correct answers.....NOPE.
Not knowing the music of the people that STARTED hip hop is disturbing enough, but to not knowing the music of the person you say you're trying to emulate is more than just disturbing, that's, well, RETARDED (no offense to actual retarded individuals). Quite frankly, my ninja, you STOOPID. How can anyone say they want to be something, and not be able to cite the work of someone who is successful doing what YOU want to do? Without that foundation, you're destined to fail.
Examples of client stoopidity:
One client claimed to be the first really lyrical group from the South. Hello? Anybody home? Outkast?
Another client had started his verse with the hook from Run DMC's song "King of Rock" (I'm the king of rock, there is none higher/sucker mc's should call me sire). When asked where he got the verse from, he said....drumroll please.....you guessed it....T.I.!
Another client (R&B artist) came in and sang a "remake" or rather he just re-worded it, of the 70's soul group The Crusaders' song "Street Life", and when asked whose song he had just sung, he "couldn't recall."
Now maybe, this is why Nas said hip hop is dead. A lot of these new rap artists don't really appreciate the music or respect the craft. Just think, when we're all old and our brand of hip hop is considered old school, whose songs will we be playing when we're sunday driving? Jeezy? Or Common? Joc? Or Jay?
There is a problem with today's music, and I applaud Jared for being on the front lines and doing the best he can to fix it. I'm gonna do what I can too. I haven't bought an actual cd in a while. I'm gonna buy Common.
Movie Manners
Today's blog was inspired by my trip to the movies to see Bourne Ultimatum (great movie by the way).
I decided to go to the movies today. Being that it was a movie I wanted to see, I arrived at the movie theater early to get a good seat. I was able to get prime movie seating, you know not too high, not too low, and dead in the center. Now, the closer to movie time, as can be expected, more and more people begin to flood the theater. As more and more people ask me, "Is anyone sitting here?" I begin to get irritated. First, why in this BIG A$$ theater are you deciding you want to sit RIGHT next to me? I don't care WHERE somebody is sitting, I operate in movie theaters like I do in the men's bathroom, NO doing your business next to someone unless there are extenuating circumstances (everywhere else is taken up). Then, if you wanted some quality seating, get your butt to the theater early like the smart people (like ME for example). Now I'm being polite and answering everyones' nerve racking questions until this ol' Santa Claus looking a$$ man comes waddling up to me. Now the worst part is that I saw this coming. Most people notice when someone walks into the theater, and when they see said person look at the seating, the little person in their head says "I REALLY hope this foo doesn't wanna come sit here." Well, I had the same feeling, but then that little person said "DAMN" when I realized indeed, he was penguin waddling his geriatric anus up to my row. So after about 20 mins (in my mind) he finally gets to me and asks if someone is sitting here. I say no and then he proceeds to wave his ol' extra from the Golden Girls lookin a$$ wife to pop in some gingko and make the trip up to my row. Sidenote: Betty Ford (his wife) was previously unseen at the time of questioning, and as there was only one seat available next to me, I wondered what miracle Santa was planning for this Christmas day. Then when she gets up to my row after 30 mins (also in my mind), Santa Claus leans over and says, "Can you move over a couple seats so we can sit together? Unless you wanna sit next to an old man heh heh." Me being me, I look everywhere but at him because I couldn't believe this ninja (I understand Santa is not a ninja, but that doesn't mean that Santa is incapable of engaging in what we black people consider "ninja s#@t") asked me that, even going so far as to look at my neighbor on the other side of me wit the "he can't be serious" face. My obvious contempt for his question prompted Santa to say, "Never mind, I'm sorry because I understand how difficult it would be for a young person like you to move." Now, I ain't in MENSA, but I know when somebody tryin to be a smart-a$$. My first thought was to display to Santa how real ninjas react to "ninja s$#t", but I thought the better of it. I simply grabbed my soda, took a long sip, and put my feet up on the seat in front of me, all while lookin Santa old a$$ dead in his grill. Santa promptly exited stage right and that was that.
Another example of "ninja s#@t" occurred a couple of months ago during a movie. I was watching some movie and, per usual when there a lot of ninjas around, especially young ninjas, a cell phone went off. Now it happened to be the phone of the guy sitting right next to me. Now I expected the man to pull out his phone and press the silent button, but ooooooohhhh noooooo....THIS ninja picks UP the d#@n phone like he in the house on the couch and proceeds to have a full blown conversation. Now I, as did everyone else in the immediate area, thought that this might be important, but he would keep it brief as a courtesy. OOOOOHHHH NOOOOO....THIS ninja keeps talking like he the president. After realizing that this negro has no regards for the fact that he's in a movie theater, I decide there is only one thing I can do. Fight fire with fire. I decide to lean over to him and ask him loudly, "THIS MOVIE IS GREAT HUH? HOW DO YOU LIKE THE ACTING?" Apparently coming out of presidential mode, said ninja tells the caller he's in the movies and will call he/she back later.
Now what I want to know is what is the deal with movie manners in Atlanta? Now I know in Los Angeles, everyone pretty much knows the deal, unless you going to a Magic Johnson theater, in which case, you just gonna have to deal wit Ray Ray an 'em laughing and crying in the theater, OUT LOUD. But here in Atlanta, it doesn't matter which theater you go to, from Buckhead to Bankhead, Regal to Magic Johson, negroes and white folks alike, all engage in "ninja s#@t" at the movies.
Maybe they should just put up Movie Commandments outside of each theater to let these folks know, because I really don't want to have to start saying, "I'll wait till it comes out on DVD."
I decided to go to the movies today. Being that it was a movie I wanted to see, I arrived at the movie theater early to get a good seat. I was able to get prime movie seating, you know not too high, not too low, and dead in the center. Now, the closer to movie time, as can be expected, more and more people begin to flood the theater. As more and more people ask me, "Is anyone sitting here?" I begin to get irritated. First, why in this BIG A$$ theater are you deciding you want to sit RIGHT next to me? I don't care WHERE somebody is sitting, I operate in movie theaters like I do in the men's bathroom, NO doing your business next to someone unless there are extenuating circumstances (everywhere else is taken up). Then, if you wanted some quality seating, get your butt to the theater early like the smart people (like ME for example). Now I'm being polite and answering everyones' nerve racking questions until this ol' Santa Claus looking a$$ man comes waddling up to me. Now the worst part is that I saw this coming. Most people notice when someone walks into the theater, and when they see said person look at the seating, the little person in their head says "I REALLY hope this foo doesn't wanna come sit here." Well, I had the same feeling, but then that little person said "DAMN" when I realized indeed, he was penguin waddling his geriatric anus up to my row. So after about 20 mins (in my mind) he finally gets to me and asks if someone is sitting here. I say no and then he proceeds to wave his ol' extra from the Golden Girls lookin a$$ wife to pop in some gingko and make the trip up to my row. Sidenote: Betty Ford (his wife) was previously unseen at the time of questioning, and as there was only one seat available next to me, I wondered what miracle Santa was planning for this Christmas day. Then when she gets up to my row after 30 mins (also in my mind), Santa Claus leans over and says, "Can you move over a couple seats so we can sit together? Unless you wanna sit next to an old man heh heh." Me being me, I look everywhere but at him because I couldn't believe this ninja (I understand Santa is not a ninja, but that doesn't mean that Santa is incapable of engaging in what we black people consider "ninja s#@t") asked me that, even going so far as to look at my neighbor on the other side of me wit the "he can't be serious" face. My obvious contempt for his question prompted Santa to say, "Never mind, I'm sorry because I understand how difficult it would be for a young person like you to move." Now, I ain't in MENSA, but I know when somebody tryin to be a smart-a$$. My first thought was to display to Santa how real ninjas react to "ninja s$#t", but I thought the better of it. I simply grabbed my soda, took a long sip, and put my feet up on the seat in front of me, all while lookin Santa old a$$ dead in his grill. Santa promptly exited stage right and that was that.
Another example of "ninja s#@t" occurred a couple of months ago during a movie. I was watching some movie and, per usual when there a lot of ninjas around, especially young ninjas, a cell phone went off. Now it happened to be the phone of the guy sitting right next to me. Now I expected the man to pull out his phone and press the silent button, but ooooooohhhh noooooo....THIS ninja picks UP the d#@n phone like he in the house on the couch and proceeds to have a full blown conversation. Now I, as did everyone else in the immediate area, thought that this might be important, but he would keep it brief as a courtesy. OOOOOHHHH NOOOOO....THIS ninja keeps talking like he the president. After realizing that this negro has no regards for the fact that he's in a movie theater, I decide there is only one thing I can do. Fight fire with fire. I decide to lean over to him and ask him loudly, "THIS MOVIE IS GREAT HUH? HOW DO YOU LIKE THE ACTING?" Apparently coming out of presidential mode, said ninja tells the caller he's in the movies and will call he/she back later.
Now what I want to know is what is the deal with movie manners in Atlanta? Now I know in Los Angeles, everyone pretty much knows the deal, unless you going to a Magic Johnson theater, in which case, you just gonna have to deal wit Ray Ray an 'em laughing and crying in the theater, OUT LOUD. But here in Atlanta, it doesn't matter which theater you go to, from Buckhead to Bankhead, Regal to Magic Johson, negroes and white folks alike, all engage in "ninja s#@t" at the movies.
Maybe they should just put up Movie Commandments outside of each theater to let these folks know, because I really don't want to have to start saying, "I'll wait till it comes out on DVD."
Sunday, July 22, 2007
G.I. Joes (and Janes)
Most of us know at least ONE person in the military...and if you happened to have lived in a low-income area where the military routinely sends out the crew cut howie long look-a-like street team...then you know quite a few...
Now if you've every hung out with a person who's in the military...you know there is no way you can have any conversation lasting longer than 5 minutes without them making SOME reference to the military. "Yea man, that's like when we was in the barracks..." or "We had a place like that on base..."
Now granted I got nuthin but love and respect for all my homies in the military, and I'm sure it was a life changing experience and all, but homie PLEASE stop tellin me about your drunken military escapades or how much money you were/are makin tax-free or how much foreign breezys love soldiers (they just want a green card Iceberg Slim, not YOU). If the military was that great, what the hell you doin back here talkin bout it for my ninja. Something you didn't like had to happen. I didn't know that "army of one" really means "army of publicists of one". I swear it's like some cleverly calculated conspiracy (aaahh the alliteration) by the government. I never hear the homies tell me about the bad things about the military like, um, i don't know, being in a WAR ZONE where you're the only one wearing readily identifiable uniforms.
And don't get me on the ones that start to get front lines siditty and say things that begin or end with "you civilians". NINJA PLEASE. You ain't in no Delta Force or Navy Seals or Army Rangers or Men In Black or Mission Impossible. Ninja I knew you in HIGH SCHOOL. Don't talk about "you civilians" like we a different species after sgt. slaughter taught you how to take orders with no questions asked. I'll still kick your basic training a$$ in the nutz and call it a day patna....
Just remember, next time G.I. bro wants to start tellin his full metal jacket stories with a smile on his face, remind him that Bush could still use him...
Now if you've every hung out with a person who's in the military...you know there is no way you can have any conversation lasting longer than 5 minutes without them making SOME reference to the military. "Yea man, that's like when we was in the barracks..." or "We had a place like that on base..."
Now granted I got nuthin but love and respect for all my homies in the military, and I'm sure it was a life changing experience and all, but homie PLEASE stop tellin me about your drunken military escapades or how much money you were/are makin tax-free or how much foreign breezys love soldiers (they just want a green card Iceberg Slim, not YOU). If the military was that great, what the hell you doin back here talkin bout it for my ninja. Something you didn't like had to happen. I didn't know that "army of one" really means "army of publicists of one". I swear it's like some cleverly calculated conspiracy (aaahh the alliteration) by the government. I never hear the homies tell me about the bad things about the military like, um, i don't know, being in a WAR ZONE where you're the only one wearing readily identifiable uniforms.
And don't get me on the ones that start to get front lines siditty and say things that begin or end with "you civilians". NINJA PLEASE. You ain't in no Delta Force or Navy Seals or Army Rangers or Men In Black or Mission Impossible. Ninja I knew you in HIGH SCHOOL. Don't talk about "you civilians" like we a different species after sgt. slaughter taught you how to take orders with no questions asked. I'll still kick your basic training a$$ in the nutz and call it a day patna....
Just remember, next time G.I. bro wants to start tellin his full metal jacket stories with a smile on his face, remind him that Bush could still use him...
Friday, July 20, 2007
Let's talk about social skills
*Names changed to protect reputations
Okay so I have a friend at work by the name of Jon. Now, Jon stops by my desk everyday just to holla at me about whatever's goin on in his life at the time and he shares stories with me. When I first started working at my current workplace, I met Jon and he seemed like a real cool down to earth dude. It didn't take me long to realize that Jon has a horrible habit. He repeats himself. ALL THE TIME. I mean he'll tell you a story on Monday, then turn around on Tuesday and tell you the EXACT SAME STORY. Somehow in the 24 hours that passed since you last spoke with him, he completely forgot the previous conversation you both had IN ITS ENTIRETY. Now again, he's a pretty cool dude (other than his annoying little habit) so I can deal with it, but tonight just took me absolutely over the edge.
Jon is a DJ right, and he's been repeatedly reminding me of that fact ever since I have met him. Now he asked me to come over to his house so I could hear him spin. He talks to me about what he likes to play all the time (he names the same old school artists EVERY TIME in the SAME ORDER) and we dig a lot of the same music so I decided to stop by. I was over there for about 2 hours listening to him drop everything from old school to new school and I actually enjoyed the experience. Well the following week, he brought me over to tell some of our other co-workers about his spinning abilities and I gave him a good review so a couple of other people wanted to stop by. We went over there tonight to just chill and listen to him put his thang down. He played the first song (Chubb Rock's "Treat 'Em Right") which he also played for me and I thought maybe it was just his leadoff song. He plays his second song (Cheryl Lynn "Got to Be Real") and my thought was "Oh no....". While everyone else was jammin to the song, I was wondering if this ninja really was going to play the SAME D#@N MIX he played for me last weekend. Turns out, my hunch was correct. This negro played the same mix, but what made it even more astounding, he was scratching and using effects in the SAME EXACT places of the song as he did when I was there earlier. Like it was a routine or something. Then, when he finished, this ninja looked at me, and in all seriousness said, "So what did you think of my mix?" WTF?! NINJA I JUST HEARD IT 5 DAYS AGO!!YOU DIDN'T CHANGE A D#@N THING SINCE THEN!!!
What also really kills me about Jon is that when he's repeating these stories, he makes extra sure to have the proper time period as a context to the story. In fact, he'll discuss his thoughts OUT LOUD about him recalling when things happened ("When was that? Oh yeah that was when blah blah blah because I was waiting on blah blah blah that week and Biggie died that Thursday blah blah blah). For some reason he can remember ALL OF THAT, but can't remember that he just REMEMBERED that whole background to the story yesterday as he was telling me the story YESTERDAY.
Now I try to give him hints that he's repeating himself by finishing his stories for him ("Oh yea you told me about that...") but to no avail. I decided I had to take it up a notch so I tried to show disinterested body language. I might look away while he's talking or take out my phone and text when he's retelling a story. Also, TO NO AVAIL. This man has absolutely NO social skills whatsoever. I think he's one of those people you just have to break down and be mean to because otherwise, they just won't get it. The problem is, I CAN'T DO IT. He's such a genuine and nice guy that I just don't have the heart to tell him to shut the f#@k up.
Times like this I wish there was a "Rent-a-A$$hole" service where I could have some heartless bastard say what I feel for me. I would just call the hotline and I an a$$hole would pull up to where I'm at in a scooter (they save gas), hop off, say "SHUT...THE F#@K.....UP!", hop back on the scooter and be out...
Somebody should look into this....
Okay so I have a friend at work by the name of Jon. Now, Jon stops by my desk everyday just to holla at me about whatever's goin on in his life at the time and he shares stories with me. When I first started working at my current workplace, I met Jon and he seemed like a real cool down to earth dude. It didn't take me long to realize that Jon has a horrible habit. He repeats himself. ALL THE TIME. I mean he'll tell you a story on Monday, then turn around on Tuesday and tell you the EXACT SAME STORY. Somehow in the 24 hours that passed since you last spoke with him, he completely forgot the previous conversation you both had IN ITS ENTIRETY. Now again, he's a pretty cool dude (other than his annoying little habit) so I can deal with it, but tonight just took me absolutely over the edge.
Jon is a DJ right, and he's been repeatedly reminding me of that fact ever since I have met him. Now he asked me to come over to his house so I could hear him spin. He talks to me about what he likes to play all the time (he names the same old school artists EVERY TIME in the SAME ORDER) and we dig a lot of the same music so I decided to stop by. I was over there for about 2 hours listening to him drop everything from old school to new school and I actually enjoyed the experience. Well the following week, he brought me over to tell some of our other co-workers about his spinning abilities and I gave him a good review so a couple of other people wanted to stop by. We went over there tonight to just chill and listen to him put his thang down. He played the first song (Chubb Rock's "Treat 'Em Right") which he also played for me and I thought maybe it was just his leadoff song. He plays his second song (Cheryl Lynn "Got to Be Real") and my thought was "Oh no....". While everyone else was jammin to the song, I was wondering if this ninja really was going to play the SAME D#@N MIX he played for me last weekend. Turns out, my hunch was correct. This negro played the same mix, but what made it even more astounding, he was scratching and using effects in the SAME EXACT places of the song as he did when I was there earlier. Like it was a routine or something. Then, when he finished, this ninja looked at me, and in all seriousness said, "So what did you think of my mix?" WTF?! NINJA I JUST HEARD IT 5 DAYS AGO!!YOU DIDN'T CHANGE A D#@N THING SINCE THEN!!!
What also really kills me about Jon is that when he's repeating these stories, he makes extra sure to have the proper time period as a context to the story. In fact, he'll discuss his thoughts OUT LOUD about him recalling when things happened ("When was that? Oh yeah that was when blah blah blah because I was waiting on blah blah blah that week and Biggie died that Thursday blah blah blah). For some reason he can remember ALL OF THAT, but can't remember that he just REMEMBERED that whole background to the story yesterday as he was telling me the story YESTERDAY.
Now I try to give him hints that he's repeating himself by finishing his stories for him ("Oh yea you told me about that...") but to no avail. I decided I had to take it up a notch so I tried to show disinterested body language. I might look away while he's talking or take out my phone and text when he's retelling a story. Also, TO NO AVAIL. This man has absolutely NO social skills whatsoever. I think he's one of those people you just have to break down and be mean to because otherwise, they just won't get it. The problem is, I CAN'T DO IT. He's such a genuine and nice guy that I just don't have the heart to tell him to shut the f#@k up.
Times like this I wish there was a "Rent-a-A$$hole" service where I could have some heartless bastard say what I feel for me. I would just call the hotline and I an a$$hole would pull up to where I'm at in a scooter (they save gas), hop off, say "SHUT...THE F#@K.....UP!", hop back on the scooter and be out...
Somebody should look into this....
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
World Series of Who Has Less Sex (with an actual woman)
For some reason, whenever I turn on the television, this "World Series of Pop Culture" is always on. Apparently, there are teams of Pop Culture nerds, that watch SO much TV, and SO many movies, and listen to SO much music, that they feel the need to compete in their lameness, since they probably can't compete in anything else.
First, lets discuss the guys. These guys are OBVIOUSLY nerds. I bet the only women they see are on TV (or perhaps the chicks that also entered this "World Series", but then it's not to have sex, but merely watch 21 Jump Street together to memorize lines). I also laugh at their smugness when they know the answer. They answer with this sort of "I'm SO gonna get laid for knowing this" kind of tone. Little do they know that women aren't impressed at your ability to remember lines from bad 80's songs.
The women are a conundrum to me. Some of them are actually ATTRACTIVE. I justify it in my mind with the idea that there must be some serious personality issues with these women if they stay at home ALL the time watching TV. The other ones, you know the phenotype of the other ones...well, we KNOW why they at home.
It is rather ingenious of the person in the boardroom that came up with this idea of Jeopardy for the younger generation. Hey, they catch me putting down the remote for 20 minutes or so (How else would I be able to write this blog). The only catch is you're only cool if you win the prize money. Winning might actually increase your standing with the opposite sex, losing, well, hey, when it comes to the opposite sex, that's probably what these people are used to.
I'm tired of typing, where's the remote....
First, lets discuss the guys. These guys are OBVIOUSLY nerds. I bet the only women they see are on TV (or perhaps the chicks that also entered this "World Series", but then it's not to have sex, but merely watch 21 Jump Street together to memorize lines). I also laugh at their smugness when they know the answer. They answer with this sort of "I'm SO gonna get laid for knowing this" kind of tone. Little do they know that women aren't impressed at your ability to remember lines from bad 80's songs.
The women are a conundrum to me. Some of them are actually ATTRACTIVE. I justify it in my mind with the idea that there must be some serious personality issues with these women if they stay at home ALL the time watching TV. The other ones, you know the phenotype of the other ones...well, we KNOW why they at home.
It is rather ingenious of the person in the boardroom that came up with this idea of Jeopardy for the younger generation. Hey, they catch me putting down the remote for 20 minutes or so (How else would I be able to write this blog). The only catch is you're only cool if you win the prize money. Winning might actually increase your standing with the opposite sex, losing, well, hey, when it comes to the opposite sex, that's probably what these people are used to.
I'm tired of typing, where's the remote....
Parenting Without Any D#@n Sense
I saw something today that really disturbed me. I came back home from my daily workout (gettin mah six-pack game up) and I saw this lady get up when I pulled my car up to the gate. I recognized this lady as the "extra regular" lady who frequently sits outside on the bench while her baby runs amok in the parking lot. I say "extra regular" because everything about her is pretty, well, REGULAR. Regular clothes, regular car, regular hair style, hell she even LOOKS regular. For instance, if you lost her in a crowd of people and she had your car keys, you bes start asking people for bus change...unless you wanna play a real life "Where's Waldo". Back to the story, I thought it peculiar this time that she got up when I came in the parking lot, because usually she just sits there barely recognizing my presence and also she walked over by where the water hose is attached to the building, where people wash there car. So, as I pull into my parking space, I think "Where the hell is the baby?" When I get out of the car and head into the building, my question is answered. I see this chick, standing next to her baby, who is literally STANDING in a METAL BUCKET of bubbly water. Now, my first thought was hell, this is the South, maybe she was having a "Color Purple" moment. Then, I said naw homie, under NO circumstances do you wash your baby, while the baby is still wearing the baby uniform, in a metal bucket, in a public parking lot, in downtown Atlanta, MINUTES away from your own damn bathtub!
This then got me thinking about another situation regarding questionable parenting. I went out with a couple of friends for drinks after work. Now let me say, that this is a bar/nightclub. It is Friday evening. We all know what happens during this time. GROWN FOLKS ISH. So anyways, we get a table on the upstairs patio overlooking the street and get some drinks and chill. After some time, I notice this little Asian girl running across the patio. I didn't believe it so I asked my friends for confirmation...Indeed it was a little girl, couldn't have been older than 9, running around a bar on Friday night. To make matters worse, there was no parental figure in sight. After managing to continue conversation and libation with friends, while intermittently being distracted by the running baby, her "parent" shows up....WITH A CIGARETTE! This like 50-something white guy is just chillin with his homies smoking on cigs, while ignoring that attention craving baby. And he also makes a point to exhale his smoke mafia boss style in babygirl's face.
I note these two experiences to say, some people just shouldn't have children. I could at this point make some sweeping indictment about white parenting, but I shall refrain. I have seen some crazy things when Shaniqua (take no offense if this is your name) takes her five babies (take no offense if this is your baby count) to the grocery store (any depictions that are similar to your real life situation are purely coincidental). When these aforemtioned children turn out to walk around in trenchcoats showin the goods to underage girls (my man in the bucket) or breathing through a hole in her neck at 25 and becoming an alcoholic to take the pain away (homegirl at the bar), you can say you heard it here first.
This then got me thinking about another situation regarding questionable parenting. I went out with a couple of friends for drinks after work. Now let me say, that this is a bar/nightclub. It is Friday evening. We all know what happens during this time. GROWN FOLKS ISH. So anyways, we get a table on the upstairs patio overlooking the street and get some drinks and chill. After some time, I notice this little Asian girl running across the patio. I didn't believe it so I asked my friends for confirmation...Indeed it was a little girl, couldn't have been older than 9, running around a bar on Friday night. To make matters worse, there was no parental figure in sight. After managing to continue conversation and libation with friends, while intermittently being distracted by the running baby, her "parent" shows up....WITH A CIGARETTE! This like 50-something white guy is just chillin with his homies smoking on cigs, while ignoring that attention craving baby. And he also makes a point to exhale his smoke mafia boss style in babygirl's face.
I note these two experiences to say, some people just shouldn't have children. I could at this point make some sweeping indictment about white parenting, but I shall refrain. I have seen some crazy things when Shaniqua (take no offense if this is your name) takes her five babies (take no offense if this is your baby count) to the grocery store (any depictions that are similar to your real life situation are purely coincidental). When these aforemtioned children turn out to walk around in trenchcoats showin the goods to underage girls (my man in the bucket) or breathing through a hole in her neck at 25 and becoming an alcoholic to take the pain away (homegirl at the bar), you can say you heard it here first.
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