There’s a difference between depending on twists of fate and doing shit specifically for divine intervention to be the only positive outcome.

I’m currently reviewing 927 photos and videos from one of the most exciting sources ever…instead of writing a book review I should probably get started on. I get distracted easily, and this is only making things worse. Not to mention I’m also eating the best ice cream cake ever thanks to this wonderful woman here. There’s absolutely no possible way I’d finish that shit anyway (I’ll finish it before I post this, seeing as how the fear of failure has recently been instilled in me). Anyway…let me say something of importance:

I hate Simsimi. Simsimi is definitely the most annoying thing to hit the streets since Instagram (I don’t hate Instagram. I just wish people would take pictures that Instagram would enhance instead of whatever the fuck they feel like. But…if you can’t beat em, let em live. So live). It’s like cleverbot but with a peevish attitude and a terrible understanding of the nuances of language. THATS A SIGN OF SOME SORT OF PERSONALITY DISORDER OR A FUCKING LUNATIC.

…

Sorry…I fell on my CAPS lock. I also used my voice texter to say that. So not only did I not type it in anger, I went out of my way to dictate it solely because I could. That’s the kind of fuckery that makes things like Simsimi possible. I hate this bird for a multitude of reasons. Oh, let me count the ways… 1) It doesn’t know what it is. Once it told me it was a bird but didn’t say what kind. Another time it told me it was a robot. Just now it told me to mind my damn business. So fuck it. I’m finna mind my own business. Cuz a damn robird told me to. 2) It snitches too much. If you ask Simsimi where the hoes at, chances are she’ll give you some very reliable tektites to follow. If you ask her where the weed at, same shit. Nigga. You the FEDS. That shit is not cool. At all. 3) It’s a jackass. I tried to have a decent convo with Simsizzle and this fuck niggress told me she straight up didn’t care about shit I had to say. Granted, I’ve told plenty of people the same thing, but it’s different when it’s coming from an iPhone app. I can’t explain it, but it hurt. I was bout to come to blows with Sim. Trill shit. Then I realized…I’m a damn senior in college and I’m letting a fucking bird piss me off. I felt pitiful for a good 60 nanoseconds before I said fuck it and deleted that bitch.

If this shit gets any more popular, I won’t hate, but I just need it to be known that me and Simsimi are NOT COOL.

God Bless You.

Did anybody see Beyonce’s body at the Carnegie Hall concert thingy? Holy fuck! Celebs do not bullshit when it comes to looking good after having a baby. I remember seeing Heidi Klum on the catwalk after having a kid and I damn near stuck my cock through the TV. I’m assuming being filthy rich to the point where you have enough time to work out (or whatever celebs do to stay in shape) plays a huge part in this. I don’t plan on being wealthy, so, assuming I agree to take on the lifelong commitment of properly raising another human being (you may recognize this as something at which most of your parents either failed or wisely didn’t even attempt), I’ll have to work out alongside my child’s mother. That way she can’t have any excuse as to why she couldn’t shake the baby weight. 

I’m sure you’re all saying “a pregnant woman gains a great deal of weight because she has to serve as the only food source for something that’s essentially a goddamn parasite (for those of you who still live with your folks, some things never change, eh?). How in God’s name will your efforts equal hers?” Well, first off, it’s always a competition with you people. Black women especially seem to think they have to “win” shit for the sake of…I don’t know. I don’t even question it much anymore. BUT I’ve prepared for this. I’ll gain just as much weight as she does minus the assumed weight of the baby and shit then  we’ll lose real weight together. But I’ll stay a tad bit chubbier at all times so she can feel like she’s winning. I’m the perfect baby daddy.

And just so you know I’m not half-stepping, check my profile pic on Facebook. I’ll wait.

…

As you can clearly see, I’M ALREADY FAT! Nigga got about three chinz out this bitch. She won’t have to worry. But she will have to be a chubby chaser…

God Bless You.

I promised I’d talk a bit more about my road dogs Shana and Sammy. I’m a man of my word, so why not. First off, I’m very thankful for both of them. Shana and I have been friends for over three years and we have yet to argue or hold any resentment toward each other. Pretty impressive, eh? We often push each other to do things that we probably wouldn’t accomplish otherwise. She’s pretty slick tho…she keeps telling me that she’s the female me in order to deflect blame for her triflingness (that’s not the reason she said but that’s what I’m finna tell people). Anyway, she’s supported me through everything from my wild crazy ho days to my wild crazy drug days to my wild crazy bad relationship days to now where I’m not wild, crazy, or doing shit that doesn’t involve school. She also told me to stop dating people she’s cool with because she sick of losing friends. That was a nice joke. Because she introduced me to my future wife. But more on that another day. Anyway, she’s pretty awesome.

There’s also Sammy. We’ve only been friends for about 11 months but they were a pretty serious 11 months. She’s witnessed my crazy bitches doing crazy shit, death threats, spazzes, a couple setbacks, and a bunch of other shit that shouldn’t happen to one person at all let alone within the entirety of your friendship. She didnt flinch when I told her this was far from the worst shit I’ve been through. She also gives decent advice. And I challenged her to overcome my system and she did, so there’s that (no one has ever beat my system…ever…this is new to me). I think I did a wise thing in making friends with them. When the time comes for all of us to go our separate ways, I won’t even trip. Til then, let the good times roll!

God Bless You.

I’m supposed to explain to you guys how you’re all lunatics and how your lunacy makes the world go round and how I wasn’t lucky enough to be a lunatic because I was busy trying to be Buddha or some shit. But fuck that. You guys aren’t even all that bad. In fact, I…admire you. Some of you. The ones who don’t get hemmed up on shit because they feel it’s important.

You guys are awesome.

My birthday is on the way. I’ve never celebrated my birthday correctly because I had no idea there is a correct way to do this. Not to say that I haven’t celebrated. Last year, I escaped a burning apartment (I’m exaggerating for effect but I do have a friend who can’t cook), got embarrassingly drunk, ate 50 mcnuggets, and I don’t remember the rest. The year before, I got free weed, chased around some apartments by my high ass friends, a birthday cake made by some bitches who later found out I was fucking both of em, and a heart to heart with the only person who actually cared about me at the time. The year before that, I have no fucking idea because I don’t remember that entire year ever happening. It gets boring after that.

The point is there is a right way to do these things and I think I have it figured out. So…there will be steak. And that’s it. There’s literally nothing that I haven’t done already. I’ve lived too much for 22. I could die right now and my friends, exes, enemies, family, and Mr. Cook could all cash in on my life story. So I don’t want to do things the wrong way anymore. Steak. That’s the right way. That’s what I’m doing.

Feel me?
God Bless You.

It’s been forever since I Tumbl’d…I apologize. 1st off, I changed my password and forgot what it was…after a while I got tired of guessing and decided it wasn’t important. 2nd…there’s no second. I just got lazy. Moving on…

I’m sure you know by now that I’m a creature of habit (like most men). One of my biggest habits has been going on hiatus after hiatus for whatever reason (such as being too lazy to reset my password, for example). Then I usually come back and talk about what happened while I was gone. I see no reason to do different here, so let’s get to it.

The most important (and most obvious) thing that has changed over the past couple months is my friendship with Samantha has blossomed into something I never expected. She’s a cool kid. A decent foil to Shana (who’s pure awesomeness in her own right). It’s great to have a friend with whom you can explore your energetic side…especially when the source of that energy isn’t always understood. I’ll Tumbl about them more in the coming days. But as for Sammy, she’s a breath of fresh air in an otherwise smoggy atmosphere.

Along with Sammy are her friends, most of whom have accepted me and Shana (we’re generally a package deal unless otherwise understood) for all we are — good and bad. This has given me the chance to close major gaps within my connections and centralize my envrionment in a way that keeps me from losing my got damn mind. Now I can split my thoughts and tell each person what I want them to know and watch the ideas circulate. It’s lovely.

Dionna is still reading my mind.

The world is still better than advertised.

I’m still a god and I still talk to trees (unless turtles touch them). I’m also a swan. And a robot (complete with new functions such as “perfect time managment” and “knowing how far to go and when to go there”). And I’m a pirate. That happened after I returned from the mountains.

Oh. That reminds me. I was taken to the mountains for Christmas. Best thing that happened to me all last year (aside from my friendships with Sammy and Dionna). Now I see the world for what it really is.

Things are pretty awesome. I even tried to start a new twitter page (for a class assignment) and found out my old page never got deleted. So there’s that. It’s a swell year so far.

Aside from these major changes, everything is pretty much the same it’s always been. So I suppose I’ll just…Tumbl.

God Bless You.

Not too long ago, I defended Herman Cain as politely as I could against those people who believe that he’s some sort of pyppet or minstrel that the Rebuplican establishment is using for…whatever reason you assume. Well, Herman called me recently (because I’m cool like that) and asked me to have his back now that these sexual harassment charges are surfacing. So, here I go…

First off, Herman Cain is not a politician. He’s never held or even tried to hold a political office. The fact he’s the frontrunner for the Republican nomination at all says a great deal about how accomplished (and savvy) he is. Calling Herman Cain a Republican is…a stretch…to say the least. He spits the same Tea Party dogma he’s believed since he went out on his own way back before my mother was born. He grew up in a Black conservative household (much like many of you, whether you want to believe it or not). He was able to turn himself into a multi-millionaire using one of the four basic freedoms all Americans enjoy.

I forgot to mention he’s Black. All Black people who become rich are pawns of
White supremacy, let you tell it. To a degree, I agree…but not to the extent that Herman Cain’s unapologetic Blackness inherently makes him an enemy to Black America. More importantly, his conservative views line up with the average Black person’s. How many Blacks do you know that don’t trust the government, taxes, abortion, gays, immigrants, law enforcement, etc? Quite a few…right?

All that aside, Herman Cain’s time in the spotlight is under attack by women who suddenly remembered that he may have fondled them (or whatever) in the 90’s. Not raped. Not fathered illegitimate children with that he later neglected. Not vaginally mutilated. But fondled…or whatever. Like 20 years ago. I’m not saying we should ignore workplace sexual harassment. I’m saying that has nothing whatsoever to do with his ability to lead the country. Shit. This is ridiculous. He didn’t steal any money, he didn’t use his position to order a hit on anyone. He made whatever advances and they’ve been taken the wrong way. A settlement…or whatever was reached. Let it go. Bill Clinton became president despite a major sex scandal during his presidential run and remained president during one in office. He’s still generally considered a good preisdent (despite the fact he made the rich richer than any other president in the past 40 years and also made most of the economic downturn legal…he also left office during a recession, which people seem to forget). Lots of politicians get in sex scandals and quit because of the shame. Well, Herman Cain isn’t a politician, and even if he was, he shouldn’t quit.

One more thing…the media has been biased against Herman Cain even more as he becomes more popular. First it was moderators talking down to him during debates. Then it was Lawrence O’Donnell yelling at him on his show (as if he were on Fox News and Herman Cain were President Obama!). Then it was his campaign ad where the message was ignored because his campaign manager was smoking in it. Now this. I don’t want to say “it’s because he’s Black,” but part of it is. And Herman Cain is right in saying so (especially to Rick Perry, who hates Blacks but loves Mexicans). Some Blacks hate him because he’s Black and some Whites do. It’s getting sad.

God Bless You.

Today’s my mom’s birthday. I’ll tell you a story about her. My mom decided that she was going to stop drinking sodas once because they were fucking up her health. After explaining to her that sodas didn’t fuck up her health but her addiction to sodas did, I had to watch in horror as she decided that we, too, were going to stop drinking sodas…because watching us drink sodas would force her to want and drink one…or seven. After explaining to her that it’s bad parenting to punish us for her lack of willpower, I watched in horror as she ignored me. Now, i’m assuming she wanted us to drink healthier, but all she really did was make us go to unnecessary lengths to get a fucking coke. Although this isn’t THAT big of a deal, it does bring up a huge issue with accomodating a minority and punishing a majority in order to accomodate a minority.

For instance, there’s this big ramp on campus that was built in the past couple years that, besides being expensive and cumbersome to navigate if you’re hadicapped, inconveniences those of us who aren’t paralyzed. Why? Well, for one I’ve never seen a single person on campus that used a wheelchair (probably because FAMU isn’t handicap accessible…which is actually illegal, so I don’t know how a school from the 1800’s managed to make it to the 2010’s without building ramps…but I digress). For another, it pushes the entire the stairway over away from the very reason people used the stairs prior to 2010. This, too, isn’t a big deal. In fact, it’s more of design flaw than a punishment, but the fact still stands that a major change was made to accomodate people who literally do not exist.

It goes further than that, though. Across the country, people are gearing up again for the “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” debate. In my high school, there were literally 12 students who weren’t at least cuturally Christian (it should be noted that every American is in some way culturally Christian whether you’re a Christian or not). Those twelve students were mostly Muslim with two Buddhists. So naturally, we had to have a Christmas celebration that included Hannukah (no Jews) and Kwanzaa (a non-religious holiday that most people had never heard of or had heard of but never felt compelled to celebrate in 16 years of life). None of the Muslims or Buddhists participated. Not to mention most people don’t want their children pretending to celebrate a religious holiday that their religion doesn’t recognize (you may recognize this as blasphemy). Two-thirds of our celebration was unnecessarily added to, again, accomodate people who literally did not exist.

There’s a major difference between serving vegetarian alternatives and changing your entire menu to a vegetarian one. There’s a major difference between offering censored versions of music alongside the original version (probably every single music retailer in America except…) and only offering censored versions of music (Wal-mart…which sells these btw). What if Netflix suddenly only carried docmentaries of Asian pop stars? Wouldn’t you think that was going too far to please a small group of people at the expense of everyone else?

Granted, I believe racial minorities and women and people of various sexual orientations deserve special accomodations to fight discrimination, but I wouldn’t want the Country Music Channel to suddenly decide they only hire Black musicians…much like I wouldn’t want to walk into a mall suddenlycompletely employed by trannies (I love trannies, but where would you even find that many trannies???). I…think you get my point.

God Bless You.

About a year ago, I posted a status on Facebook defending President Obama’s political savvy. A guy I went to high school with responded bashing him. A guy I go to college with responded further defending him. The guy I went to high school with merely replied “I think you’re institutionalized, and there’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise.” I laughed so fucking hard. He jokes that way all the time. But what if he’s on to something…?

I’m starting to understand those people who say there is no one truth or no truth at all. On the one hand, there are things that are obviously true (such as language or rabbit’s fur or cold weather) and not believing in them takes a large degree of insanity, for lack of a better term. Then there are things that are true but still take a degree of faith (such as the fact rabbits communicate or that their fur actually makes then feel warm in the cold weather). Then there are things that COULD be true because the clues point to it but we can’t know for certain, taking an even larger degree of faith (such as seeing a dead rabbit buried in the snow and assuming the cold weather killed it). Then there are things that people believe to be true that might be true but might never be proven (such as rabbits having metaphysical powers). This is where my understanding comes in.

It seems to me that a great deal of what we believe or “know” to be true simply can’t be proven. We can prove that someone died from a gunshot wound, but we can’t always prove who did it or why. In fact, we never know for certain because the only person who could say who did it and why is dead. We can see two friends fight over something and hear both sides of the story, but we never know for certain what actually went down or who’s lying. In fact, both people could have acted according to the way they saw things. They could’ve both been unaware or forgot details about what happened (meaning they aren’t lying). It won’t matter. Sides will be taken, accusations will be made, and the truth still will be unknown.

That’s the thing. We as people are willing to risk a lot for what we believe is true. If sports fans believe the ref made a bad call, riots could ensue even if the most objective people involved agree the call was bad. If a person thinks someone is being insecure/”crazy” just to get attention, the “crazy” person could seriously harm themselves or others. All because you were convinced of something you couldn’t know for certain. Recently I said you shouldn’t get yourself into situations that LOOK worse than they actually are. This is why. Because it’s inevitable that people are gonna believe what they want regardless of what happened (even if the people there say otherwise).

I say this because I’m guilty of it myself. We all are. Not just religious fanatics. Not just people who shun religions for being lies but believe in vast conspiracies. Not just conspiracy theorists. Not just the people who believe it’s stupid to believe in conspiracies but still search for that true love that only exists in the movies. Not just the hopeless romantics. Not just the people who think love is dumb and go through life acting as if love isn’t at least a necessary chemical reaction created by evolutionary need. Some people are blindly pessimistic. Some are blindly optimistic. You aren’t in their shoes. You two can look at the same situation and feel completely different about it. It doesn’t mean either of you are wrong, and if you are it might not be your fault. It’s easy to write people off as crazy or full of shit because we don’t understand them and/or don’t want to deal with them, but aren’t we ALL this way?

Isn’t that what life is about? True, there are women that get convinced that a guy is gay and nothing can convince them otherwise. True there are men who are convinced that women are sneaky gold-diggers even if she has more money than him. True there are people who get convinced their significant other is lying to/cheating on/stealing from them even when the proof isn’t there. True people get caught up in emotions and start questioning things that probably should never be questioned. “Intuition” can really fuck things up sometimes, and it’s unfortunate. But it’s life. And life is mostly made of having faith in falsehoods.

So maybe we shouldn’t chide people for not believing in the same things we do or viewing things in the same way. And maybe we shouldn’t be so sure we know something for a fact just because something “says a lot” or is “proof enough” or because we have reasonable suspicion. There’s a very good chance we could be wrong. And an even better chance that we could fuck things up for ourselves because we refused to accept that we can’t know things for certain. On the other hand, we should try to understand WHY people believe what they do and WHY they can’t be convinced otherwise. Because chastising someone for believing in something (no matter how ridiculous the belief) is the greatest form of hypocrisy.

God Bless You.

For some reason or another, Halloween STILL isn’t over…meaning Christmas season has yet to begin. Although there are stores who brung out the Christmas shit a couple weeks ago, it doesn’t count. No store in their right mind would sell anything of importance for Christmas while White people are enjoying the only month of the year where they can dress up in blackface without ending up on CNN. I’m not saying that companies intentionally sell blackface kits in October because they know White people would buy it, I’m saying it would make more business sense to promote a specific sort of racism at a specific time (such as “grape-flavored” black eggs during Easter…which I will rant about every year until I run out of new shit to say).

No…I think I was talking about Christmas. Not racism.

CHRISTMAS is the most wonderful time of the year! People buy each other gifts. People teach their kids morals. People forgive. People donate to the less fortunate. People cook delicious meals and invite anyone over. People go out of their way to visit each other. It’s beyond wonderful. It’s the most human time there is. And as soon as it ends, a new year begins. We start all fucking over, fully anticipating that next year will be better than this year, meaning next Christmas will be better. I love it!

But it still is October, so I should say some fancy shit about Halloween. My mom never let us celebrate Halloween. She didn’t like the emphasis on scaring the shit out of little children in 30 degree weather (or the fact we actually send our kids into a neighborhood with which they otherwise don’t communicate to ask strangers to give us candy that we’re supposed to trust they didn’t poison). We had candy some years, but we also had years with…fruits. We never dressed up (being Black meant we had to be the “nigga version” of everything anyway). We were also too desensitized to be spooked by anything, so we kind of ruined it for everyone else. Once I hit 12, Halloween no longer matter. I was focused on girls, meaning I wasn’t concerned with what they had on but what they had underneath. The only good thing about Halloween was that it’s the easiest to avoid. Thanksgiving and Christmas are THROWN IN YOUR FACE no matter where you go. Tallahasse is preparing as we speak to put Christmas lights downtown that look even more Christmasy than last year. If you hate the holidays, then you have to REALLY hate that everyone else loves them.

Anyway, I’ve reached that age where everyone has decided that being an adult isn’t as fun as they thought, so they want to be a child again. Some actually do this by having children through which they can prolong their youthfulness (while being an adult victim). Most do this by just doing childish shit and claiming it’s some sort of post-modern irony that fools no one. Thus, some of my friends are going to walk into strange neighborhoods and ask adults for candy, while others are going to do the same thing they did last week (drink, do hard drugs, have sex with whomever can’t run/crawl away) but dressed as Buzz Lightyear. This is actually cool to me. I wouldn’t mind going out dressed as a pirate and making bad puns that I’ll forget because I’m drunk. But I never felt the enthusiasm…unlike Christmas. My folks made sure we always had the Christmas spirit. So…that explains that.

God Bless You.