Give da people what they want......

Apparently this is the to-go... the special move. So no warming up. Just pull up the curtain. Showtime.

Randomness.....

I missed Pandora. .... It's like we don't speak for awhile, then have make-up sex. Then we decide we were meant for each other. .... She's GOIN IN right now, running tunes I ain't never heard. .... Nothing like the days when your girl feels brand new like the first night you touched each other. ..... I wonder if I could write a book full of Randomness. Would you read it? ..... There is a difference between Living Abundantly and living in abundance. Think about that. .... Ms. Procrastination is so pissed off right now because I've only given her tastes of me but for the most part she's getting the cold shoulder. ..... I told her I was trying to move on. .... Bitch. .... I can't believe I DVR'ed the Real Chance at Love reunion special. ... I feel like I should gouge my eyes out with a broken piece of glass for that. .... But then how am I going to watch Heroes next week?. ..... I actually spent an hour online looking at Harley Davidsons. Sounds like an early mid-life crisis if I've ever heard one. ..... I look up every once in a while and realize that many of the problems that weigh on me aren't specifically my own. But that doesn't mean that I shouldn't mean that just cause a problem isn't assigned to me that I can't solve it. ..... If you can fix something then why stare at it being broken because if you're on the assembly line and one part is broken and the shit hits the fan the feces will inevidently fly in your direction too. .... I'm feelin it. I feel the high that you get from the lie. Feelin it, if you feel it raise your L in the sky. .... Damn sometimes I wish I could be two places at once. But sometimes the second place only looks more enticing because you ain't there. .... It's funny that I keep geting older and somehow I don't feel grown up. What's that about? ..... Why can't I stop playing Brickbreaker? They should have a support group for this. I'm on the train like, "Okay one more game and I'm done. I swear. ..... 17 games later... Okay this is the last one. For real, I swear this time. ..... Life ain't a boomerang. ... The things you do will come back to you. Just not always from the place you sent it to. ... Apparently Dinosaurs makes the best potato salad in life. ... I think Insomnia and I have made friends. He only bothers me sometimes and when he does, I don't give him a hard time. I just like him talk to MJ. She takes care of the rest. .... I don't know what's better gettin laid or getting paid... Thanks Kayne, that was a good one. ..... It doesn't make me mad that I can't go on all the vacations I want to right now. I got a life full of vacations coming. .... Life really ain't that short. Name one thing longer. .... You're entire life you mom took care of you, what kind of person are you if you don't take care of your mother as soon as you're able? .... I want to end this blog with something thought-provoking and profound. But that's all I got so.....

Keep it pimpin Pimpin...

C

I'm here.....

I'm going right in.....

Randomness......

Usually I'd apologize for talking so long to write but sometimes it just ain't there. ... For some reason whenever I sit down to write ANYTHING lately it simply feels forced. .... In retrospect, I should have been suffocated by issues, stifled by stress. Yet somehow I've remained calm. With a steady hand and an unwavering rhythm in my breath. .... They let people say bitch, ass and nigga on the radio and then when T.I. saying your "piss poor morally" they audio-distort the word "piss." I wish I could piss on the fuckin FCC heads. .... Lately I feel the most alone when I'm with people and when I'm alone I can't get my thoughts to stop crowding me. .... Listening to Tha Carter III. .... I'm just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh no, please don't let be misunderstood. .... People always ask questions they don't really want the answers to. Then if it's not the answer they expect, they either don't want to hear it or don't believe the answer. .... Just keep your mouth shut and believe what you want to believe. ..... I wish I could get paid for writing this. .... Anybody wanna buy an ad? ...... I have more followers than I ever thought I'd have. .... My mother reads this blog too. ... Go back and read some old ones and think about how flagrant that is. ..... Why do grown men have to say "No homo?"...... Listen, I pay bills. I pay taxes. I'm a grown ass man that clearly enjoys in the touch of a female. I'm not prefacing shit I say with "no homo" to qualify what I say next or to assure some next dude that I'm not down for the butt play. ..... Grow up. I say what the fuck I want. If you don't like... Ya Motha. ... We are not the same I am a Martian. .... Welcome to Planet C. ... Beyonce went to work on At Last for the post-inauguration celebration. I bang with that chick. She cried because she genuinely couldn't believe that she had the opportunity to sing for the first African-American president of these United States of America. ... I might actually put my hand over my heart for the national anthem now. .... Nothing worse that someone thinking that are flier than they really are. ... I can't help it. I'll never give affirmation to someone's who's ego is already out of check as it is. Wrap you. .... I haven't slept through the night in three weeks. Does that mean I'm haunted. .... Sleep's overrated. .... I know I need a change in my life. I just don't know what it is. ...... How can you just start walking down a road if you don't even know where it leads? What if you don't even know the name of the street? .... Is that better than just standing in the crosswalk looking side-to-side like an asshole? .... I don't know. .... For some reason I'd rather know where I am even if I don't know where I'm going. ..... That make sense?. ..... Why do I feel like I'm drowning sometimes and there's no water in sight? ...... I can't believe people still aren't up on Mike Phillips. .... It's time for this hair to go. .... Sometimes I wish I could just walk around with a giant middle finger on my shirt so that I wouldn't have to speak. ..... Damn I had cookies AND cookies last night. Sometimes life is grand. .... My job had a reception and pulled the streaming video of the inauguration and projected it on to a big screen so we could all watch it. ..... I have a new respect for my boss. ...... So I think me and Gym broke up but somehow I'm still paying alimony. ..... Me and Ms. Procrastination are practically wifed up and that bitch Sleep decided to leave me. .... My life is in shambles. ..... Even though it all, I still gotta put my Swag on a lease. Shit is getting outta control. ..... Why don't people read more? ..... Why can't I just write a book and live and work on the beach? ..... Why do rappers that are going to jail get countdown reality shows? .... Why does Ray-J have a dating show? .... Oh my God why did I watch Real Chance of Love? .... Clearly it's not the cookies making me loose brain cells.... It's VH1. .... Why do girls from Brazil look like that? .... There was a broad on the Tyra Banks show that eats toilet paper. Half a roll a day. .... I wish I could kick that chick in the face. .... Oh and if I can put a bat to the back of Tyra's head I swear I would. .... She was so much better when she was just in Sports Illustrated. .... I'll still probably watch the show anyway. .... Yes, I'm currently shaking my head at myself. .... I'm afraid to end this blog because then it'll just be me and my Thoughts again. .... Damn... I guess it's time to face fears.


C

There's a stranger in His house

I went to church on Sunday. Yes, that's news in and of itself. I went because I needed to. Because I needed to find a broom to sweep some of the dust out my closet. Because I needed to go tell God in his own crib that I'm not a heathen.
From the time I walked in, I felt a nervousness. Like, "Sorry God, I know it's been awhile." I kept feeling like when I walked in everyone would turn around and exclaim in unison, "Oh, fancy seeing you here."
I'm accustomed to going to church, listening to a bunch of white people sing in this angelical, holy, holy, holy Lord kind of way while the priest tells us to sit, stand, kneel, stand, sit, read, kneel and stand again. Then an hour later everyone tries to silently slide their jackets on and dip out before they see anyone they know.
But this people were standing for no reason, like they were trying to reach out and touch God. Or hoping that maybe they could grab hold of the words the chorus sang or maybe that maybe the pastor could put salvation in their hands.
I've only seen a chorus like this on television. I've never sat in church and had the preacher screaming at me.
But I needed to go to His house to find the broom. And sweep the dust out my closet. To talk to Him about all the things that I can't bring myself to talk to anyone else about. Before I even sat down the air in there hugged me. And it didn't let go. All the commotion became a silent movie and I looked around like I'd never seen people before. But the truth is, I've never seen people like this before. I listened to the chorus in slow motion and I panned the room. I didn't talk to God at first. I felt ashamed. We've talked lots of times.

But not like this.

So I didn't talk to him at first. I just sat in His house, in His chairs. And I let him watch me. It was my offering. My signal of submission. My act of gratitude. So after 20 minutes, a single tear escaped me. I didn't wipe it off. I owed Him that much. I listened after that. I listened to her explain that He was in me ready to guide me. That He was in everyone. Just read the instruction manual, she said. I could find solace in Him, comfort in Him. And it's not that I didn't know this before. I always thanked Him for whatever He gave me, whatever He offered me. Always thankful.
But I realized I don't ask for His help. The way I never ask for anyone's help. But He knew that my silence was out of humility. I asked for His help this time, His eyes, His guidance. I still have questions. Tons of questions.

But I felt clean when I left. He bathed me.

Thank you. All three of you.

C


Do I really need Randomness after that??

Because I miss it....

Randomness....

I bet Eric Mangini is giggling his ass off right now. This dude got the blame for the Jets not making the playoffs (although it's definitely partly his fault) while everyone had Chad Pennington fantasies. ... Chad throws a Pick 4 against Baltimore which is exactly the reason New Yorkers are mad at Brett Favre. ... If Mangini ain't laughing I know I am. .... I love Anthony Hamilton but I think his new album is kinda suspect. I'm gonna give it another try. ... There are few things in life funnier than listening to someone go ape shit on the phone with a cell phone company. .... Sprint will give you all your minutes back, two free months and send a girl named Naomi to your house to give you a foot massages. Everyone else will talk to you on the phone for two hours giving you all kinds of explanations that can be summed up in one sentence: Sir, please take a long walk off a short pier. ... Wait... it's about 60 hours since I started this blog. But the Knicks beat Boston and it literally took 48 hours for my erection to fade. Then last night they lost to now 5-34 Oklahoma City and it took the rest of the time for me to get over my blind rage. I'm back now. .... Got out the train yesterday and saw a homeless dude squatting and wiping his ass after her just unleashing a mountain of dung onto a newspaper. ... A girl walked by in disgust and even when she got to the street she was still covering her nose and face. .... I wanted to slap her. Why should she be mad? Dude don't even have a house and she mad that he shitting in the subway station. That makes sense? ..... She should be happy that he was nice enough to do it on a newspaper. He should of lit it on fire, scooped some up with his hand and threw it at her. ... .I would've lost my shit. .... I feel bad that he gotta take a dump in the subway and wipe his ass in front of strangers. That's so much worse that walking by and seeing a homeless guy wiping his ass with the Newsday sports section. .... You could super glue an umbrella to my hand and I promise I'd lose that shit in 45 minutes. .... I really think if I keep holding all this shit in I'm going to literally explode. .... Either that or I'm going to end up like that guy in that movie that pulled a gun on the McDonalds cashier cause his Big Mac didn't look like the one in the picture. ... If I ask for something. Give me what I asked for. ...... Apparently many of the greatest war strategies originated from Mongolian wild wolves. ... Read a book. ...... Damn even the Blog can't always heal me. ..... Sometimes no matter what you do, loss is inevitable. ..... I can't believe I watch kids run in circles for a living. That just makes me laugh. .... Someone unexpected extended themselves to me. So I extended myself to them. It's only right. .... People do so much to make it look like they are less full of shit then they actually are. ... Maybe that includes me. I don't know. .... I hate when people say Society sucks. People suck. Society is made up of people. Get it.... So whenever you say that, instead just say, I suck. Or we suck .... Not me though. I'm pretty cool.

C

Movie Couple...

A friend of mine always tells me that he has stories that play out in his head. He says that he imagines backgrounds of people on the train, what their home lives are like, who their families here, where they are going and where they are coming from. I think his imagination is better than mine.
But the other day I went to the movies and sat next to this couple. The only thing that caught my attention about them is how utterly impersonal they were toward each other, although they seemingly were together. Anyway, I decided to figure out who they were. So I started writing. Let me know what you think.


Movie Couple....


Her name is Susan. His name is Bill. They sit next to each other in the movie theater and never look at each other. Susan brings a coffee mug, the microwavable kind with sturdy handle, and reads files from work. Bill reads the sports pages. She wears glasses. They bring blankets and show up 30 minutes early.
They laugh at the movie separately. Susan never engages Bill. And Bill looks over periodically only to remember that he didn’t show up alone.
They used to hold hands in the movies. Bill would take Susan to the park for picnics. Susan would start cooking on Saturday night so that Bill would love Sunday dinner. She used to lay on his shoulder at the movies and clench his thighs when the drama built. They used to stay until everyone else left. Bill used to kiss her like no one was looking.
They met in high school. She would have never given him a chance. He was sweet she thought. Just not her type. But he lived two houses down. He’d carry her bookbag home from school. He helped with her Biology homework. She taught him not to be so uncomfortable around girls. He stayed up all night on her bedroom floor listening to her cry the night that Tyler Cunningham told that he just didn’t think it was going to work out. She ditched field hockey team dinner the night Bill’s parent had the big fight and he needed somewhere to run away to. He always chased her and she hid the fact that she enjoyed being chased until that summer when Bill spend two months in Florida with his uncle and came back suddenly came back four inches taller and with muscles. That’s when the roles reversed.
They went to the prom together. Susan followed Bill to college. He did landscaping in the summers. She started tutoring. They were married by the end of junior year. Bill went into construction with his friend Kevin’s dad. Susan became a teacher. They had three kids – two girls and a boy. They lived in a suburb just like the one they grew up in. They never had money problems. But they never lived beyond their means. He drove a pick up. Susan still drives the white caravan they purchased together when Amy, their youngest, was born. Sam played lacrosse. Amy loved ballet and Caitlin wrote poetry.
Bill and Susan would go to the grocery store together. They’d go to the mall. She’d buy his pants. Every Sunday they go over to Kathy and John’s and the men would do men things while they women did women things. They would fight about the kids or about money or about feeling unappreciated. She hated that he never talked about his feelings. Bill hated that Susan always talked about hers.
They are married. They loved each other.
They would get gitty on the days when the kids would all be out the house. They love Saturday afternoons when three kids could stretch freely and find their place in the world while husband and wife could pretend to be 23 years old again and sneaking into a dingy bathroom in a smoky bar and jumping each other like animals. Bill and Susan warned the kids about the day they’d all be gone, when they could be alone finally.
Then Caitlin got married and Sam could a job in Tennessee. And Amy went to study dance at UCLA. And Bill and Susan were alone. Then they woke up at 6:45am each day. Sam would take the shower. Susan made the coffee. She would come into brush her teeth while Bill shaved. Bill would put on his robe and head outside, wipe his face and then stoop down to pick up the Sunday paper. He brought it inside and dropped it on the coffee table. She started breakfast. Only the sound of their footsteps filled the house. After they ate, Susan started the laundry and he swept the front yard. It was his turn to pick today. When he came inside they walked by each other.
“What time?” she asked.
Tonight at 6:40, he said.
They fill the day with chorus and Sunday football on television. They sit at the table in the den. Bill paid the bills and she balanced the checkbook. He started to ask her something. She became alert, mouth open in anticipation until he remembered that he already asked the question. She went back the checkbook. They went on like this, completing daily tasks together and independently without words. She knew what he liked just as he knew what she liked. He went to work and came home, as she did. They went to Kathy and John’s, disappeared with their friends and reappeared when they were both sure it was time to go.
They got to movies 30 minutes early. He would read the sports pages. She would read files from work and bring her coffee mug, the microwavable kind with the sturdy handle. They would laugh separately and never engage each other. They would leave together but Bill would never look back to see if Susan was on his shoulder. She walked at her own pace.
They went to bed at the same time. They knew their routine. They didn’t have to ask about tomorrow. They both wore cotton pajamas. Bill only wore the pants and wore a white T-shirt on top. Susan wore the oversized top and some old sweatpants. They’d both stare at the ceiling. Someone had to break first. They both dreaded it. She holds her breathe. Here it comes.
He starts, “Do you remember that time when Amy was in the yard … “
Yeah, I remember, Susan says.
And remember when Sam ….
Yup.
And then Caitlin.
Sure, it was so funny.

That’s it. Wasn’t so bad tonight, Bill thinks to himself. Susan lets go a slow breath. Glad that’s over. They couldn’t wait for the kids to leave they used to think. Now the only sound in the house is their footsteps.
Alright, Susan says. They both grip a corner of the comforter and turn away.
They both say goodnight.