Y'know, that's a real good question.  I'll explain like this:

I've been in the same spot I have been the whole time.  It's just that things around me have changed so much in the past six weeks it's been somewhat dizzying.  We'll start with what happened six weeks ago.

So, I took a week of vacation from work in mid-April.  During that week, I think my roommate came home a total of twice in that time span.  That's enough to alert anybody that something's up, but I figured he'd tell me eventually.  Sure enough, he did, on that Saturday. 

"Yeah, I'm moving out at the end of the month.  I already talked to your parents [a.k.a. the landlords] about it."

Hm, well, don't you think it might be minorly important to give the one paying the bills just a tad bit more notice than ten days?  I was cool for a while about it, but then I noticed it was eating at me a little more than I was willing to admit.  I was in a bit of a funk and a bit more nasty to people than I usually am.  It wasn't the fact that my roommate abruptly moved out or the way it was handled...I think it was more about the fact that I'm now taking care of everything myself (which really isn't that big of a deal now, especially with tax returns, stimulus checks, and a part-time job I picked up with my dad).  Oh well.

I actually think I might be better off this way, truthfully.  I kinda like the whole loner thing.

Now, what have I been doing with my free time?  Well, when you pick up a game that allows you to kick it with your friends, have fun, nuke stuff, and meet new people at the same time all without leaving the comforts of your own apartment...well, that's called World of Warcraft (henceforth known as WoW).  It's a time monopoly, that's for sure, but the hilarity and general good times we've had far than make up for the fact that I don't know what sunshine looks like.

And since a lot of the in-game chat occurs through text (lol Vent), well, you know how I do with the written word.

Protip:  White people get offended by racist jokes faster than black people.

Allow me to explain:  four real life friends (myself, black Brad, Asian Joe, and white Pat) wait for a battleground match to begin...

Brad:  "Okay, here's the plan.  Group 1 goes here, Group 2 goes there, and Group 3 goes over yonder.  Is that kool with everybody?"

Time froze here for a second.  Seeing the way he spelled "kool", I knew I shouldn't make the joke.  I knew deep down in my heart that it would be a bad idea.  However, it was too funny to resist...

Me:  "Yeah, that's kool.  Kool as a carton of black people cigarettes."

Everybody in my party laughed.  Other people didn't find it so funny.  The next thing I saw on my screen was "comment reported!", at which point the four of us laughed even harder.

Protip:  Assume everybody on the internet is a white male between the ages of 12-30 unless provided with two forms of ID, several pictures (preferably topless), and a doctor's note specifically stating that yes, this "female" has truly been without a Y chromosome for her entire life.

Nothing to say here.  It's pretty obvious.  Why do you think I don't trust Internet dating?

Protip:  Come visit the lonely black man in his apartment.  I promise you won't get shot, your car won't get stolen or broken into, yadda yadda yadda...

Seriously, nothing happens down here.  Do you think I'd be living in a crime-infested neighborhood?  Bring your own drinks, though.

Well, that's enough of a teaser for now.  Next time (I hope):  "The Mighty O" (yeah, we're going there).

Hasta luego, people.

Macaroni and cheese.

In.

A.

Can.

Thank you, and good night.

Me:  "So, I've been meaning to write some new blogs lately, but I've been lazy and unmotivated."
Jackie:  "Well, you know, if you actually wrote more, it would probably be easier."

Touche, pussycat.  By the way, it's amazing what a random day off will do for you (yay three-day weeks and lots of snow!)

Now, on to our regularly scheduled random thoughts.

1.  Random memories 109372-109884:  We had fun adventures at the house my parents affectionately refer to as "1601".  See, in my family, my parents referred to all the houses/apartments that we lived in by their street numbers:  i.e. "5310" (two blocks west of "1601", their current residence), and "2338" which was in Chicago, etc.  Anyway, the front porch alone of my house holds so many stories.  For example:
  -The day when Booker came over requesting one of those Lil' Hug juices that used to be a 'hood staple.  I refused to give him one, and left him standing on the front porch.  As I closed the door, I saw him sitting down and heard, "We shall overcome, we shall overcome..."  Moments later, I returned with a juice in hand.  I gave it to him and heard proclamations of "We overcame!  We overcame!"
  -The day Time And A Half, Inc. was born.  It's also the reason why Sheridan, Jermell, and I aren't allowed in the same place at the same time.  Bad things go down.
  -The day Sheridan and I were playing chess on my front porch, and my brother Anthony showed his face at the front door.  Moments later, I was getting a mudhole stomped in me.  Sheridan couldn't stop laughing.
  -The day Sheridan tried to ask my mom if he could come inside...
  Sheridan:  "Can I come inside?"
  Mom:  "NO!" 
  The ensuing door slam reverberated throughout the entire neighborhood.

2.  Booty butt, booty, butt, booty butt CHEEKS!

I've finally figured out why black men are ass men:  go for what you know, work with what you got, and take what you're given.  Just look at the typical black female's anatomy and you'll see what I mean.

3.  The Hair Up There

Random, random text I got from Sheridan a few days ago, and the conversation that ensued:

Sheridan:  "So, what would you rate Rihanna?"
Me:  "Pre- or post-bob?"
Sheridan:  "The hair matters?"
Me:  "Absolutely!"

A little backstory:  Sheridan and I have been down this road before.  He really doesn't believe hair matters when rating a woman.  I believe it's of the utmost importance.  That being said, I knew I was going to piss him off with what I was going to say next:

Me:  "Pre:  7.5/10.  If she had boobs, it'd be higher.  Post:  5/10."
Sheridan:  "I can understand the 7.5, but 5?  Come on, man.  Why?"
Me:  "Simple.  For one, I believe the bob is the stupidest hairstyle known to mankind, but women love it for some reason.  Two, she needs bigger boobs.  Three, and most importantly, I believe that no human being should be the color of a penny.  Ever."

Seriously, look at her.  She looks like she should have a picture of Lincoln stamped somewhere on her body. 

4.  I have a sudden hankering for chocolate chip cookies.  Like, for real.  It's bad.  Figures it would happen right after I go to the grocery store and make a conscious decision to eat healthy (for real this t me) after eating a week straight of McDonald's and noticing a huge drop in mobility and energy.  Now I know how the average nigga feels.  That reminds me...

5.  "Mom, I'm 22, not 42."

Last Saturday, my mother calls me...

Me:  "Hi, Mom."
Her:  "Hey, son.  How are you doing?"
Me:  "Tired."
Her:  "Why's that?"
Me:  "Oh, I haven't been sleeping well or eating well over the past week or so."
Her:  "Well, you know, you're getting older now, and your body's starting to change..."
Me:  "Mom, I'm 22, not 42.  I'll be fine."
Her:  "Alright son, we'll I'll talk to you later."

Not thirty seconds later:

Me:  "Hello?"
Mom:  "Why don't you go up to that medical place on US30 and get a physical?"
Me:  "[i]WHAT?![/i]"

Every single time I talk to her, she comes up with something absolutely incredulous.  I'm in perhaps the best physical shape of my life (even if I haven't been going to the gym consistently like I'm supposed to), and she wants me to go get checked out?

...moving on.

6.  The Paradox Brothers (Gate Guardian FTW!)
  Even though it really doesn't seem like it from the way we talk to each other about women (it's more like arguing), but Sheridan and I think a lot alike sometimes.  Consider this random text from out of nowhere:

Sheridan:  "I've decided that older women are much better than their younger counterparts."

My first thought was wondering if he was entering MILF territory, but I was pretty sure that wasn't the case.  However, just to be safe...

Me:  "I'm gonna need some numbers here."
Sheridan:  "22-32 years old."
Me:  "I'll grant you 24, but definitely not 22.  I was actually thinking 26 myself."

Sure there are mature young women out there, but they're the exception, not the rule.  It usually takes a woman until the age of 26 to realize all the guys she looked over in search of a good time are the men that she really needs in her life.

Just sayin'.

7.  The Phraselator

So, supposedly, the LAPD has invented this new device called the Phraselator.  Its main goal is to translate a whole plethora of phrases into a whole bunch of languages.

Now, if you actually look at that, there's so many things wrong with that.  First of all, it's the LAPD.  The last thing they were ever famous for was beating the hell out of a black man with nightsticks.  Secondly, there's only three languages spoken in LA:  Ebonics, Spanglish, and Hollywoodese.  Let's take a look at what a few of these would look like in practical use:

Ebonics:

  -"Come out with your hands up" --->  "Nigga, get yo' black ass out here!"
  -"You have the right to remain silent..." etc.  --->  "Nigga, you goin' to jail!"
  -"We'll strike a plea bargain with you."  --->  "You're going to go to jail regardless.  We just want to see if you'll snitch on your friends so we can put more of your kind in prison."

Spanglish:

  -"Come out with your hands up" --->  "It's over, holmes.
  -"You have the right to remain silent..."  --->  "Once we find out you don't have a green card, we will, uh, deportar you, uh, a Mexico."
  -"We'll strike a plea bargain with you."  --->  "Because you're an illegal immigrant, we can just pretend this whole thing never happened."

Hollywoodese:

  -You can say anything here and it'll be translated to "We'll just put you in rehab for a few weeks and everything will be okay."  Unless, of course, you're Isaiah Washington.  First of all, I didn't know you could be put in rehab for saying "fag".  Secondly, they played him dirty.

Isaiah:  "Well, guys, I finished rehab and I'm ready to go back to work."
ABC:  "Gotcha, bitch!  You're fired!"
Isaiah:  "...Bitch-ass niggas."

8.  The more you try the eraser...

So Kanye west just added Rihanna, Lupe Fiasco, and N.E.R.D. to the second half of his current tour.  Normally, this wouldn't be too muc news, except that it means that Kanye, Lupe, and Pharrell get to finish working on the greatest album of all time...

Alright, I've got McDonald's and WoW...I gotta get outta here.  Until next time, adios.

 

Adaml00001 (4:18:30 PM): I want some chicken
BookerX3 (4:26:16 PM): typical
BookerX3 (4:26:25 PM): its in ur blood
BookerX3 (4:27:08 PM): now adam i must warn u, im a tad bit intoxicated so this whole conversation mayb blog worthy...just a disclaimer
Adaml00001 (4:27:38 PM): it's just barely past 5 PM your time!
Adaml00001 (4:27:42 PM): how the hell....?!
BookerX3 (4:27:59 PM): ITS COLLEGE!!!! WHO????? COLLEGE NIGGA!!!!!!!!!!
BookerX3 (4:28:05 PM): SO WAT ITS EARLY
BookerX3 (4:28:53 PM): i will not conform to wat time ociety finds exceptable!
Adaml00001 (4:29:15 PM): if you're drunk now, then what the hell do you do later?
BookerX3 (4:29:10 PM): get drunker!
Adaml00001 (4:29:45 PM): wow.
Adaml00001 (4:29:51 PM): just...wow.
BookerX3 (4:29:43 PM): damn straight!
Adaml00001 (4:30:10 PM): I'm glad I'm not an alcoholic
Adaml00001 (4:30:16 PM): I'd be fucked up by noon every single saturday
BookerX3 (4:31:03 PM): and sunday to c how the rex grossman would fuck up  or how the rams cant win agame
Adaml00001 (4:32:05 PM): lol
Adaml00001 (4:32:21 PM): once Favre loses, football season is over
Adaml00001 (4:32:32 PM): and getting drunk to basketball games just isn't quite the same
BookerX3 (4:32:34 PM): nope thats wat the NFL network
BookerX3 (4:32:38 PM): is 4
BookerX3 (4:32:54 PM): and youtube and devin hester... nuff said
Adaml00001 (4:33:30 PM): cheapasses at comcast make us pay for NFL network
BookerX3 (4:33:22 PM): lol
BookerX3 (4:34:25 PM): if u could have 3 quarterbacks of any era and 2 pokemon to take on the world, who would they b?
Adaml00001 (4:36:16 PM): Favre, Bradshaw, Montana, Venusaur, and Charizard
Adaml00001 (4:36:26 PM): I ain't taking no guff from nobody
BookerX3 (4:37:26 PM): lol, ok gimme brady, manning, vick (in prime) squirtle (MUST B FROM SQUIRRTLE SQUAD!) and primape!
BookerX3 (4:37:31 PM): cant fuck wit it!
Adaml00001 (4:38:26 PM): lmao
Adaml00001 (4:38:31 PM): them sunglases
BookerX3 (4:38:26 PM): damn straight
Adaml00001 (4:38:43 PM): btw, just so you know...
Adaml00001 (4:38:48 PM): vick never actually had a "prime"
BookerX3 (4:39:29 PM): nigga prime is bein able to run around get short completions and score here and there. i jus want a mobile quarter back to run around and let the big guns rest
Adaml00001 (4:40:45 PM): lmao
BookerX3 (4:41:21 PM): damn that nigga would b whoopin pokemon 2... well atleast the dog ones
Adaml00001 (4:41:43 PM): lmao
BookerX3 (4:43:45 PM): ok now how about 2 Marvel charcters , 1 DC, and 5 albums of 07 in chronological order
Adaml00001 (4:47:49 PM): Iron Man, Magneto, Darkseid (because batman would be too obvious), and lemme get, uh...DJ Khaled - We The Best, Graduation, American Gangster, and the rest don't matter
BookerX3 (4:50:41 PM): Lord Magnus, Galactus ( he can jus get his bro or sis on u and its a WRAP!) Alfred the butler ( i like to keep a CLEAN HOUSE!) and Graduation, American Gangster, The Cool, Mood Music "<<<---joe budden" and Drought 3
Adaml00001 (4:54:51 PM): daaaaamn, I forgot Drought 3 dropped in 07
BookerX3 (4:54:46 PM): yup
Adaml00001 (4:55:02 PM): that was a long ass year
BookerX3 (4:54:52 PM): long time ago huh
BookerX3 (4:54:53 PM): lol
Adaml00001 (4:55:54 PM): it seems so long ago since weezy hopped on that we takin' over beat and killed it
BookerX3 (4:55:59 PM): yea it do, im bout to listen to it now lol
Adaml00001 (4:59:57 PM): are you watching the packers game??
BookerX3 (5:03:22 PM): I AM NOW
Adaml00001 (5:05:06 PM): brett favre is stupid good
BookerX3 (5:04:57 PM): lol

There.  I feel better now.

About four weeks ago...

Terry:  "It must be you."
Me:  "Huh?  What are you talking about?"
Terry:  "None of this shit happens to me.  When I go out, I go out, I do what I need to do, and I go home.  You go out and all types of shit happens to you."

That stoy involves a gas station, some nachos, and a PIN nmber gone wrong.  I'll tell that story at some future date.  Right now, though, I'd like to chronicle the past 36 hours of my life, because apparently, I don't even have to leave the house.  Adventure somehow finds me.

At 9:33 AM Saturday morning,, I received a text message on my phone which brought an end to the fiasco from the night before.  Something to the effect of blah blah blah, delete my number from your phone, blah blah blah.

Protip:  Telling somebody who only uses the address book in his phone for Caller ID purposes only is pretty pointless.

Thing is, I didn't get out of bed until 11 AM.  Oh well.  I logged onto AIM and saw that my guy in said situation with me was online, and I already knew that said chick that sent me that text message already blew up his phone.  I immediately IMed him, and the information I learned from that conversation immediately sent me into serious depression.

Essentially what I was told is that not am I completely worthless when it comes to talking with women, but it's also blatantly obvious to all parties involved that I'm terrible.  Personally, I don't know why I try anymore. 

Protip:  If you're depressed, being alone is the WORST possible thing that can happen to you.

I determined at that point that I was going to stop being a failure at everything.  I found some new surge of determination and resolve, and I managed to channel that into cleaning my room and the kitchen, two things which I nearly NEVER do.  I also determined that I was going to stop bullshitting in the weightroom... 

So from now on, failure is not an option for me.  Oh, yeah, at that point, I was also feeling pretty Anti-Woman...

So, I've had one of the shittiest years of my life so far, and we're only 11 days in.  I was going to make a long, detailed (and undoubtedly hilarious) account of what happened, but due to events that I pretty much caused tonight, I'm in no mood to write nor detail the events, so I'll do two things:

1.  Issue an apology for being a general ass and moron.

2.  I'll leave you with some rather humorous quotes related to tonight's events, though:

Unwilling to accept my failure (or my growing hunger) any longer, I decided to try again and try my hand once again at preparing my own meals.  I had abut four chicken breasts left from Monday's chicken excursion and Terry's subsequent cookage of his own chicken.

Problem 1:  Said chicken went from four separate pieces to one mass of frozen/unfrozen/frozen chicken.  Hooray for defrost.

I stuck it under hot water (as I had seen Terry do...follow what gets results, I always say), and tried to separate said pieces.  Unfortunately, I hadn't thawed said chicken enough.  So I said screw it and I'd do it after it warmed up in the oven after a bit (Protip:  "Why didn't you put it in the oven?!  You don't even have to watch it!  Just stick the skillet in the oven and let it go."  -Terry).  Preheat the oven to 375, stick said pan o' chicken in, and let it go.  After about 10 minutes, I tried unsuccessfully to separate the pieces, so I stuck it in for another 15 minutes.  After a little hacking and sawing, I finally got the pieces apart!  Stick the skillet in the oven for another hour, and voila!  Done chicken!

On a roll, I decided to try my hand at something unprecedented:  minute rice.  Two cups of water, boiled to perfection, followed by two cups of rice.  Stir in rice, remove from heat, let sit five minutes. 

It went off flawlessly.

I was so proud of preparing my dinner (and subsequent lunch tomorow at work) that I decided to preserve the fruits of my labor.  How's that?  Well, my roommate has a digital camera (it's old as dirt, but it gets the job done here).

And now, I share with the world the fruits of my labor, which has nothing to do with fruit at all:



And, of course, this makes for one happy chef.



Now, that makes for one less thing that I'm not good at.  Now, if I could fix that other thing, we'll be good to go for life!

I'm out.  Peace.

I've held a lot of roles and titles over the course of my 21-year-old life so far.  Chef hasn't been one of them.  And at this rate, it never will be.  Let's just say I'm glad I have a roommate that works as a cook.

Enter:  Bag o' Chicken.  Ten boneless, skinless chicken breasts, easily skillet fryable.  Or so I thought.

Two chicken breasts and one skillet later, I decide to jack up the temp on the range eye.  The hotter it is, the faster it cooks, right?  Well, yeah...sorta.  The outside cooked really fast.  The inside?  Not so much.  After about 20 minutes of cooking, it was still quite frozen inside.

"Terryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!  My chicken ain't cooking!"

Terry ambles into the kitchen and immediately starts setting shit straight.

"First of all, the eye is up too damn high.  You'll have a done outside, and a frozen inside."

He turns the heat down to low.  Another 20 minutes later, I go into the kitchen to check on my dinner.  It's still quite frozen inside.

20 minutes later...

"Terryyyyyyy!  Is it done yet?!?!"
"Cut it open and check the inside."

I cut it open, and in doing so, realized that my chicken was now dryer than an Egyptian summer.  Fortunately, though, it was done.  To rectify the dryness, I just drenched the breasts in hot sauce.  It didn't exactly work, but it was still kinda delicious.

Because of all this, I'm scared to even try cooking spaghetti.  This is guaranteed to be ugly, folks.

You ever have one of those weeks where it seems like life is just kicking you around?  It's not necessarily bad, but it could be a lot better?

And then the planets align, the heavens part, and suddenly you're invincible and on top of the world? 

Yeah, I'm having one of those weeks.

Great things that have happened in the past 48 hours include, but definitely are not limited to:

1.  The release of Contra 4.  The box art alone is enough to put hair on your chest.  This is by far the manliest game of all time.  It makes you want to rip your shirt off and go running through the jungle with a shotgun.  It makes Master Chief look like Barbie with a breast reduction.  This is stupidly amazing.  Not to mention the back of the game, usually filled to the brim with words and descriptions, contains only four phrases:

Guns.  Aliens.  Spread Shot.  CARNAGE.

If that's not enough to get your testosterone pumping, you need to go hang yourself with a wet noose.

2.  Street Fighter Anniversary Collection.  Oh yes, the glory days of me and my brother going back and forth on the SNES have returned onto the PS2, although this time through, it's going to be beating the living snot out of my friends in Street Fighter III: Third Strike (the game so great, they made three incarnations of it).

3.  The fact that both of these games had only one copy left at the time I went to purchase them is amazing in and of itself.

4.  I almost got into a huge accident on I-65 on my way to GameStop.  However, I'm still alive.  I blame Jay-Z for his music making me so hyphy.  Yes, Sheridan, hyphy.

5.  I'm buzzing on two hours' sleep.  And I don't even feel all that tired.

6.  I got a free giant tray of fried rice from my job yesterday.  Free.  Giant.  Fried rice.  I'll be carbing up for weeks!

And there's plenty more, but alas, I hunger.  I am going to go devour some hot dogs and call it an evening, what with the whole no sleep thing and the fact that I have video games calling me.

Next time:  What are friends for?

As I sit here, sipping on my half-gallon of Gatorade (yes, Sheridan, the ones you try to destroy in one try), I debate on what to write first.  Let's see:

1.  In reference to my last blog...

Hell week is almost over.  And that's all I got to say about that.

2.  I should put together an anthology of some of my most famous quotes. 

They seem to be popular, what with me signing on to AIM random days and finding my rants of wisdom posted as away messages...

3.  Divine intervention...

So, in search of relief from Hell week, I traveled to Walgreens up the road to buy something.  The last time I was there, I decided to try to buy something that remotely resembled groceries (note:  never buy groceries from Walgreens), and failed miserably.  So, after I got some medication, I was walking in the general direction of the checkout counters when a little voice inside my head goes, "Hey, walk down the magazine aisle."  I NEVER go down the magazine aisle.  I used to have a passing fancy with gaming magazines, then to muscle mags and Men's Fitness and stuff, but since everything's online now, I just decided to stop buying them.  So, a trip down the amgazine aisle makes no sense, right?  Of course not.  But I did it anyway.  Sure enough, there was a random issue of Flex magazine sitting at eye level.  Now, I've only bought one issue of Flex ever, and that's only because former WWE Champion John Cena was on the cover (he was an amateur bodybuilder before he became a wrestler).  Otherwise, it's a mag designed for highly jacked men with more muscle than they know what to do with.  Yet, here I am, reading the cover, and there's a segment entitled "How to Eat Big on a Budget" or something to that effect.  Hm, that's exactly what I'm looking for.  So I open it up, and I'm magically presented with a very simple grocery list that has basically transformed my kitchen and my diet.

4.  ...with a catch.

Every deal has its downside.  I went to the Save A Lot two blocks down the street, and picked up a boatload of good foodstuffs that the magazine suggested: a box of rice, spaghetti, frozen chicken breast dinners (Healthy Choice, thank you so much)...but I can't cook.  I can't cook for jack.  Look, if you ever needed to know just how horrible I am in the kitchen, I've managed to undercook instant oatmeal in the microwave.  Of course, I didn't figure that out for two months, but still.  What's the point of going to the grocery store if you can't cook anything you buy???  I declare epic fail on myself.

5.  Anime moments.

I was discussing this with a friend of mine who recounted a story that basically reminded him of any awkward moment out of any anime.  He went over to a girl's house, and when he walked in, he saw her bent over wearing just a bra and panties.  Surprisingly, his nose didn't spray blood and he didn't fly backwards screaming "BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGH!!!"  Anyway, there are several things wrong with this moment:

A)  She KNEW what time he was coming.  She invited him over, after all.
B)  She's got a live-in boyfriend.
C)  Her mother was there as well.

If that's not an anime moment, I don't know what is.  So that got me to thinking if I'd actually had any anime moments in recent memory.  The only one I could think of would be about fighting with the full power of youth.  To sum this up, a crazy-ass middle-aged ninja named Gai stresses to his students about always enjoying their youth and fighting like it.  Any time I see an old person, or a person with a cane, or a fat person that can't move very fast, I'm always reminded to make the most of my young years so that I can grow old and not be rendered immobile by life and/or bad habits.

Besides, getting crunk before a fight never hurt anybody...

6.  Remember that Healthy Choice dinner I mentioned earlier...?

Yeah, they're portioned so that it'll fill the average white woman's belly.  Of course, had I actually looked at the back of the box, I would've noticed this chick with a bigass smile on her face and figured as such.  Seriously, it was worse than eating Chinese food, and we all know how well that does in keeing you full for hours on end.

I ate the dinner at 1 PM (on my lunch break). 

2:30 rolls around, and I'm frickin' starving.

I guess that's why they're 2 for $3 at Save A Lot.

Damn.