i blogggggggggggggeeeeeeed.
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii blooooooooooooooooogged.

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii blogged.

i blogged.

colored boy

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4. tell a friend.
5. chuck a spear into ashanti's abdomen.

enjoy.

So. Sweet Mama Crackrock is venturing back into the music game after way too long in the dark. Over the past year and a half we've been treated to a few performances via youtube from around the world. Afghanistan. The North Pole. Jupter. Timbuktu (no, seriously)....and, personally, I'm glad to see Whitney on the come up once again.

Cici laid hands on her frail body, gave her a good, violent shake and got that damn crackish ass Kang of Arra and Bee (R&B) out of the picture and Whit-Whit has been working with vocal coaches to restore that once-amazing voice.

I'm rooting for her, I think. Although Miss Lady is LaToya Jackson crazy, I'd like to see her nutbucket ass have some shine once again. Besides, she's got a habit to feed, dammit.

What would break my motherfucking heart, however, would be to see her come back singing a bunch of "i'm-old-as-shit-and-have-been-away-for-a-long-damn-time-so-i'm-gonna-work-with-every-young-producer-and-sing-songs-that-girls-30-years-younger-than-me-turned-down" type shit.

she sang "convict." and i do not approve.

fuck naw.

So...as part of this return to the spotlight, Sweet Mama Crackrock has paired up with someone who has long ago sought out to murder me sonically.

She's paired up with motherfucking AKON and launched a full on assault on my soul via the new song, "Like I Never Left".

She might as well work with Ashanti to record "The Boy is Mine 2008".  Ugh.
I will reserve comment at this time....

what do YOU think???

Whitney - Like I Never Left

written today in my phone as i waited on line this morning for an eternity to apply for a job.


i...am in line waiting to apply to work in one of the restaurants at arthur ashe stadium during the 2008 tennis U.S. open. a coworker suggested that i come down to apply. apparently, the money to be made is "stupid." so, here i am.

currently, they have us lined up around the exterior of this stadium. there are approximately 87 applicants between myself and the door. this number increases by the minute, as shayquonda n nem deem it acceptable and okay to exit their cars near the front of the line, bypass the rest of us, and wait near the door. (by the time the doors opened, this line became a mob. a testy mob)

first thing i notice: 97% of the line is black or latino. and as i look around i'm wondering if there are really job interviews (instead of a khia and soulja boy concert) going on inside.

so..i'm on the train returning from the afropunk festival, where i saw janelle monae rip the damn stage apart, giving one of the best live performances i've ever seen...

i'm riding...and riding...

dre nods his head @ the woman across the aisle on the train.

i glance:

just wondering if anyone can give me any insight on something that's been on my mind for the past few months. i've actually spent 48 hour blocks of time awake...thinking about the following question instead of sleeping.

here it is:

okay, so i've been in love before. i'm single now, but if i got murked by a blonde hoodrat tomorrow, i'd be able to say that i at least experienced true love. fine. as i've often commented, this relationship (all fourteen months, 1 week, 2 days of it) was seriously the most awakening, amazing, beautiful, and life-changing bond i've ever developed with another human being (including friend or family). you know that person that knows you better than you know yourself? that person that hangs onto and lives for your every word? the same person who worships the ground you walk on and would do anything within their power to bring a smile to your face? the one who you rearrange your life and schedule just to grab a kiss from? the person who thinks the world of you and, for the first time ever, makes ALL (and i mean ALL) of your insecurites fade?

yup. i had him.

"had" is the operative word.

it's over. gone. done. history. the past. a former life, even. washed away amidst fights, confusion, verbal and physical bouts, and the desire to "go find myself, grow, explore, become whole, and get it together"...and replaced with those previously-absent insecurities, lies, infidelity, spiteful actions, and hurtful words.

and i think about him E-V-E-R-Y day, y'all.

guilt, regret, and confusion are three nasty bitches. and i've become well acquainted with those motherfuckers as of late. feeling guilty for what i did/didn't do or see. regretting that i didn't fight for something i once believed in. and confused as to why i felt and acted the way i did. oblivious. selfish. manic. a truly out-of-body experience.

anywho, its over. and, strangely, the good FAR outweighs the bad in my mind now.it's been almost half a year since any type of contact has been made on either side. what's worse is that my memory of the final weeks is SOOOO vivid, that it's hard to push those images out of my head. we did EVERYTHING together, so most things that I do around this city recall some type of memory from the past. like the fact that the last time i ever saw him, we dined in the same restaurant and sat in the SAME seats we did on our first date. he'd never remember such things...but i do. and this restaurant is one of my favorites. ugh.

my dilemma since then has been this:

how does one know whether he should gain the clarity he searched so feverishly for in the past, reflect on the situation, forgive himself for his actions, grow, learn, change, and move on....or...realize that no person will give him THAT same tingly feeling he had when he first laid eyes on that person, that no human made him feel so valued and worthy of love, that he may never love another the way he loved/loves THIS person...and readdress the situation and try his DAMNDEST to win this person (who consumes thoughts daily) back.

i've been told everything from "everyone/thing has its season" to "keep looking forward, don't live in the past" and everything in between....

how do you know the difference?

coworkerd goingd awayp arty. drinkings. me. dancing in street. lick italian girl. and thjrow darts with straigth mens.

vodka shjot.
thre wise man.
red death.
soco lime,.
suthern comphort.
owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

cab home with uglyboy.

in bed.
nekkid.

owwwwwwwwww.

i love mexican girl despite mexicanness.

i pity she.

no drink till september. coworks talk abot me for drinking so muchl and acting foolishness.

scenario one:

i was at work yesterday. we hadn't quit hit our RUSH yet, so a group of servers (myself included) stood by the bar, chatting about one of our flavor-of-love reject managers (pretty girl, dumb as a tampon string).

a food runner comes over. he's a pretty young dude, no older than 23. either black or dominican. he looks around at us and stops.

his words: "how come white people are so fluent in english?"

silence.

he continues, "i mean, like...why yall so fluent in english, like...compared to the dudes i be around?"

white girl: "..um...what??!?!?"

i walked away.

he grabbed my arm: "what, you're offended?!?!?!"

me: "no, you're an idiot. and they're just educated. not fluent. and you're not."

another white girl: "um....it was our first language."

him: "oh. its mah first one too, y'all just talk it real good. and i never knew why."

then everyone walked away.



scenario two:
i didn't witness this awkward moment first-hand. one of my homies told me this story.

a few nights ago my friend and his roommate returned home from the city. the roommate stayed outside, smoking. my friend continued inside the apartment. there are two doors to the apartment, an outer door to the street and one that lets you directly into the apartment.

while walking into the apartment, my friend mentioned to one of the other roommates that one of the doors was still open. during the brief exchange there was confusion about which of the doors was left open.

in attempt to clear it up, my friend said, "oh, i thought you were referring to THAT door, now i know you were speaking in regards to THIS door....."

roommate (immediate, loud): Yo, son, you don't even know me like that to be throwing all those big words at me son. Forreal....

Confused, my friend just walked away.


(it just doesn't compute. how DOES one respond to that?)

my herpes. on homosexuality.