Walk With Me feat. Jarrod Halsey

Before I get into this post, a couple of very random things. First. Black people, got dammit. You are NOT allowed to buy accessories for your car that cost more than the car itself. I saw some dude who put Lamborghini doors on his f’n Sebring! Yes I said it. Lamborghini doors. Chrysler Sebring.

Sigh…Sometimes I’m ashamed to be black.

And I saw this shirt the other day that read “Stupidity is not a crime. You are free to go!”

Ha Ha. Awesome.

Anyways, I’m having this argument the other day with one of my friends. I was saying that part of the problem with society is that we do not admit that violence/the desire to kill is an innate desire that exists in all humans. It is suppressed in most people by societal pressures and the fact that killing isn’t worth going to jail for most of us. She argued that some people kill because they have to, not because they want to. I.E. self preservation, joining the armed forces to make a better life for your family, etc. I took the argument even further. In the case of the armed forces, before joining you know that there is a good chance that you will have to kill to fulfill your duty to your particular armed force. If providing for your family is worth killing for and you put yourself in a position where you might have to kill for them, then you want to kill.

Also, you may not want to kill outside of a “kill or be killed” situation. But once you are put in that position, you have to want to kill the other person in order to have the focus and strength to do so. And, in fact, you have to want to do anything.

Which brings me to my point, is it really possible to force anyone to do anything? When we are put into a position where someone is trying to force us to do something, they are really giving us a choice. Let’s take the most extreme example of having a gun put to your head. With the barrell to your temple, you have a pretty simple choice make. Die or perform the alternate task that will keep you alive. Once you make the decision that you want to live, you have to want to perform this alternate task in order to complete it effectively. Let’s say this alternate task is something as horrific as killing a baby. Sure, under any other circumstance you wouldn’t do it. But if you would rather kill a baby and live with that memory rather than die for something you believe in, doesn’t this prove that somewhere deep, deep, DEEP inside of you, you have the desire to kill a baby despite the fact that it took the threatening of you life to bring out this desire?

Thoughts?

Mr. Sunday Night

13-15-33-40

Ufk Cosmo and Elle and Madmoiselle. All the self-help books and cutesy romantic comedies. The relationship TV shows, the radio call in shows. And ESPECIALLY the sh*tty advice you are getting from your homegirls. There aren’t 101 rules to dealing with men. There aren’t 25. Hell, there aren’t even 10. Since I am a public servant, I will give you (free of charge!) the three simple rules that all women should obide by when dealing with any man.

Rule #1: Never listen to what a guys says. Only pay attention to what he does.

This is by far the most important rule of dealing with any man in any capacity. We will lie about anything. ANYTHING. And we’re DAMN good at it, especially when we’re trying to get some. Because of that, you ladies need to have a healthy suspicion of every man. I don’t care how highly recommended he may come, what he does, how much money he makes or the social circles he rolls in. At the end of the day, YOU DON’T KNOW HIM. So instead of falling head over heels with all the lines a dude may be able to spit at you, be impressed when he calls when he actually says he will. When he consistently shows up on time for dates. Or even when he goes above and beyone by doing nice things that you never even expected him to. When these things happen on a regular basis, then you may BEGIN to be impressed.

Rule #2: A man will only do what you allow him to.

I should actually call this “Rule #1B” because its just as important as the first. If you let a man get away with some bullsh*t without calling him out on it the first time, it will NEVER end. Ever. I don’t care how simple and insignificant it may seem at the time. Once a man sees that he can get away with it, he will continue to push the envelope further and further until that b*tch is lying on the floor next to his gym bag, sneakers and knee brace.

Word to Patrick Ewing.

Men are much like dogs. We need to be conditioned operantly. Meaning that the second an unfavorable behavior is exhibited, he must be punished for it. Punishment can be as mild as telling him that such behavior is unacceptable, or as severe as grabbing your sh*t and going home in the middle of the night. Level of punishment, of course, is contigent upon how unreasonable your guy is.

Small Caviat: I would never EVER suggest withholding sex as a means punishment. There is too much potential for him to lose sight of how bad his behavior is and focus more on his unsatisfied libido. At that point, all rationale flies out of the window and potential for straying reaches an all-time high.

Rule #3: Don’t be too available.

Especially in the begining, if a guy picks up his phone and knows you’ll be on the other end without fail, he WILL stop picking up the phone. Trust. As much as I hate to admit it, we love the chase. We want the chase. We NEED the chase. Anything worth having takes hard work, and women are no exception. Being available to him whenever you can takes all the chase out of it and will make him quickly lose interest. So, ignore calls once in a while. Take hours to return texts. Choose to stay in a few nights instead of going out with him. Strategically of course. Push too hard and ignore too much and he’ll think you’re genuinely not interested. Sure, some people call it playing games. I call it planning.

Note: Ladies, if you lose sight of ANY of these rules, any resulting problems are YOUR FAULT. Let me repeat: YOUR. FAULT. Complain all you want about men,  but if you can see through all the smoke and mirrors, we are consistent and simple. Our behaviors repeat themselves over and over again. And yes, we are wrong for being the little @ssholes that we are initially. But since you are intellectually aware of what is going on but emotionally choose to ignore it, the blame falls squarely in your lap.

Mr. Sunday Night

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*Yeah, I dunno what’s been going on with my host the past few days, but we’re up and running now. Enjoy!*

If men and women are supposed to be equal, why does it matter how many girls you have on the court during a game co-ed sports league? Or for that matter, anyone play co-rec intramural softball in college? Why did a girl get two points for scoring a run? If we really mean it when we say men and women are equal, we need to start showing equality across the board, even in sports.

Or just admit that we are physically superior. I’m happy either way.

And ladies, why the ufk are we still baby-powdering our chests in the summer? On a high-cut shirt, fine. No one sees it. But walking around town looking like you just spilled an 8-ball all over yourself is just not hot. You got some horrible friends/family members if they let you walk out of the house looking like that.

And ufk Brett Favre.

Josh Hamilton. Josh Hamilton. Josh Hamilton.

Mr. Sunday Night

13-15-33-40

Yes, I know. My last few posts have been extremely random collections of disjointed streams of consciousness. But heck, I just got a lot of randomness going on in this head of mine. Just glad I got a bunch of ya’ll to share it with.

I dunno about you, but seeing six police officers in riot gear with automatic weapons and dogs doesn’t make me feel safer on the train…

Is it just me or is a health care worker who smokes the equivalent of a teacher who abuses their kids?

“I love you” and “I miss you” are the most loaded statements in the history of loaded statements. They are the only statements (to my knowldege) where the person who initially says it wants to hear it in return from the person they are saying it to. And if the person doesn’t say them back, it just makes it awkward for EVERYONE. Which is messed up because no matter the nature or the length of the relationship, its ALWAYS to early to say it. Anyone familiar with Patrice O’neal’s thoughts on emotional rape?

My advice? Say them the first and second and get it out of the way. If she’s scared away, you’re better off. If not, you’ve got a keeper!

If another f’n idiot asks me to try to “Keep my kids quiet” while we’re out on a trip, I might strangle them with my camp t-shirt. Oh, douchebag, I hadn’t noticed that these little kids were making enough noise to wake the dead. In fact, I enjoy the sound of forty children talkng, screaming, whining, yelling and crying in virtual unison. I’ll wave my magic teacher wand and make them all close their mouths for the entirety of the visit.

Morons.

I can’t believe I even have to say this but FELLAS! For the love of GOD, wear some ufking sleeves when you’re at the dinner table! No one wants a side of arm pit hair with their baked potato. And while we are talking abour tactlessness and hair. FELLAS! Got Dammit! Once and for all, leave the f’n durag in the house!

My God…

Anyone know any good accessories for short sleeved button downs that won’t make me sweat like a dog?

Ummm, anyone seen this “Handy Manny” cartoon? Yes, its exactly what is sounds like. A cartoon about a latino handyman.

Sigh…

Am I the only one who didn’t know that there is a charge called felony criminal mischief? I forgot where I heard about this or who was charged with it, but what EXACTLY do you have to do to take mischief to a felony level? Sorry, I have no creatively witty and funny acts that might consitute felony criminal mishief.

A-Rod and Nick Cannon. Sigh… Atleast now you can pretend that your failed marriages are the reasons for your eventual coming out of the closet. What will Jeter’s and Omarion’s excuses be?

Mr. Sunday Night

13-15-33-40

*Late Tuesday edit.*

Yo SG, shoot me that new link when you get a chance.

“most men are typically clueless when it comes to women and their inate schizophrenicness when they’re deeming what is and isn’t attractive this week, so we’ve generally stopped wanting trying to figure it out, chalking it up to, well, women and their inate schizophrenicness. we just hope that the qualities we happen to possess are ones that they find attractive, and many times we’re genuinely surprised when they actually do.”

- vsb.com

I guess they call this dude the champ for a reason. And by “they” I mean “self-proclaimed from a championship won three years ago because the real champs live in NYC.”

But I digress.

This quote pretty much sums up my entire adult-life dating experiences. And if this wasn’t bad enough, another element is thrown into the mix. Even if you do show all the characteristics that the particular woman du jour finds attractive, she STILL will hold herself back from you. Why? Because of the past douchebag(s) who showed these same attractive characteristics, only to pull a total 180 when she finally succombed to his charms. And the most frustrating part of it all? We only have ourselves to blame.

How so? Glad you asked.

I can’t speak for all guys. Not even most. But I know that I have done some f’d up ish to many females in the past. And even though I am no longer that guy, I will always be judged as if I am because of what OTHER dudes have done to her. She’s so concerned about protecting her feelings and not repeating past behaviors (aka being the stupid/pathetic girl) that her schizophrenicness mixed signals will become inevitable.

Make sense?

Karma, you are a meaner b*tch than Sallie Mae.

Speaking of douchebags, I’d like to give a special shout out to all the douchebag cops out there. You know the ones I mean. The losers who were picked on their entire adolescent lives only to use this angst to dish out unnecessary levels of a$$holishness to people who have run ins with the law. Its understandable to be frustrated dealing with the lowest rungs of society on a daily basis. But it is your job to diffuse hostile situations in an orderly and professional manner. I mean, seriously. How does yelling at someone who has already proven to be a total moron going to make the situation better?

Oh yeah, that’s right. Because you have NO power in any other area of your life. I pray that you type of cops NEVER break the law. And you though high school was bad…

Ladies, if you don’t have hair that I can run my fingers through, I just CAN’T ufk with ya. Sorry!

Further proof that Jada is the most underrated of all time:

“..and I never seen a man cry

’til I seen a man shot.

Ufk pride!

Bullets is too damn hot!”

Patron will henceforth be referred to as “The P-Word,” “The Devil’s Elixor,” “Instant Hangover” or “El Muerte Anejo.” Its always cool to say “Shots of Patron!” at the bar. But the next morning, you always wish you had passed on it.

Always.

I used to think that I got angry at people for talking about work and school so extensively out of jealousy because I wasn’t quite at the professional and academic levels that I wanted to be. Now that I have reached them, I just realized that people who talk so much about school and work are just f’n annoying! Sure, I’m glad that you got a 168 on your LSATs. And fine, I am happy that you got into your first choice graduate program. But DAMN! I’ve already gotten into school and am not really looking forward to all the sleep I’m going to lose between working full-time and matriculating part-time. Do I REALLY need to hear about this crap during my down time?

Why do big shades and low cut shirts make chicks look much hotter than they should?

…Ok I know the answer to that already, just felt the need to verbalize it.

Random funny quote from my childhood:

Cousin Halsey: Man! The Million Man March. Could you imagine if asked for just dollar from each person?

Uncle Halsey: N*gga you’d end up with seventy-two dollars and thirty-three cents!

There are few things funnier than driving to another state and realizing that you’ve forgotten your wallet. And one of those things is drinking really fast during the rest of the night to make up for all the time lost to driving. Thank god for bars in walking distance!

I love, love, LOVE my friends.

Mr. Sunday Night

13-15-33-40

I should write about it, I want to write about it, everyone else is writing about it…

But I just won’t.

Over the past couple of weeks, a bunch of the blogs that I read have been writing about the rift between black men and black women that inevitable leads to increased interracial dating. I’ve heard the black dudes complain that black chicks aren’t looking their way. I’ve heard the black chicks complain about the lack of datable black dudes. I’ve heard the white chicks complain about black chicks giving them ish about dating black dudes. I’ve heard the black chicks complain as if they haven’t contributed to the “problem.”

Quite frankly, I’m sick of everybody.

The problem isn’t black and white, the problem is leagues. All you ufkers complaining that you can’t find anyone are ALL trying to date out of your league.

ALL of you.

Mad because you have an education, financial stability and career goals and no mate? Fellas. Its NOT because black chicks think you are lame. Ladies. Its not because you are a strong, intimidating black woman. Its because you’re just not that cool. You’re not as funny as you think you are. You’re not as smart as you think you are. And you’re DEFINITELY not as good looking as you think you are. Being attractive on paper DOESN’T automatically make you attractive in real life.

Start changing your standards.

Why am I meeting more and more women who aren’t looking for a relationship? Not to say that I am, but I find it funny that when I’m finally open to idea, SO many chicks just are not.

Whatever.

Zune Pass is AWESOME. I’m currently downloading over a thousand songs LEGALLY. This is possibly the best $14.95 I’ve ever spent. EVER.

I know I’ve talked so much ish about New England. Boston specifically. Their fans and their sports teams. But last weekend, I had such a great time in Boston and in Providence that I’m going back to New England for the Fourth of July. I hope I make it out alive.

George Bush. You. Suck. More money that the country doesn’t have on a war we can’t win. Am I taking crazy pills?

Alpha Dog isn’t nearly as cheesy as I thought it would be. Yes, tons of white trash kids who think they are hard get in WAY over their heads. Yes, sexy young girls were giving it away quick fast in the midst of drugs, alcohol and hip-hop. And yes, JT is my idol. But, it was very realistic in the sense that small time drug dealing can quickly escalate to kidnap and murder. I mean hell, we see it on the news atleast twice a month.

But did every woman in the movie have to get called a b*tch?

Is it just me, or is everyone else having a hard time recovering from a night of drinking? And not even a night of heavy drinking. Just getting a little tipsy one night, and waking up the next morning feeling like you were ripping shots every hour on the hour all day. I guess age is just setting in quickly.

Or maybe I’m just a big p*ssy.

Kurt Vonnegut. If you don’t know, then you better make like Clinton Sparks and GET FAMILIAR!

OH! And speaking of Sparks, Shane Sparks of America’s Best Dance Crew might be my new idol. I don’t really watch a ton of reality entertainment competitions in general. But this dude is the ONLY judge that I’ve seen that gives real criticisms. If your crew was tight, he tells you why it was tight, how it was tight and how you can be even tighter next time. And if you’re wack, you’re just WACK. You’ve been dancing long enough to know if you didn’t bring it hard enough. And he doesn’t waste a ton of time grandstanding/showing up the competitors but giving a laundry list of their faults.

But WTF is Lil’ Mama doing there?

Mr. Sunday Night

13-15-33-40

If Eminem isn’t in your top ten, you’re just a hater.

It’s true. People bring up his huge pop success, the silly *ish he rhymes about and some of the outright dumb @ss songs he’s made as excuses for leaving him off the list. But when you look at the way this man puts together words on a track and the way he surgically dismantles MCs in a battle, there is no denying that there are only a handful of other rappers in the history of the game who have held it down lyrically to the extent which Mr. Marshall Mathers has.

Sorry, just had to throw that in there.

So I’m listening to Encore the other day, intently focusing on the words to “Puke” and “Crazy in Love.” Unlike his earlier songs about his on-again, off-again girlfriend Kim, these songs were exploring the feelings that these two have for each other and the type of dynamic they share. Instead of wrapping her up in a trash bag, throwing her in the trunk, driving down to the river and throwing her in, in these songs Em talks about specific events and behaviors that went on in the relationship. On top of that (Crazy in Love specifically) he FINALLY admits that even though he realizes that it may never work out, she is one of the people in his life that keeps him alive.

This, obviously, made me think of similar women in my life. The ones that I loved dearly, but the relationship didn’t work out anyway. The ones who understand me better than some of my family members do. The ones that brought out the absolute worst in me, and I the same to them. The ones that, despite the failed romantic relationship, will be in my life forever. These are lifelong friendships that probably wouldn’t have been forged otherwise.

I can think of two, maybe three. How about you?

Mr. Sunday Night

13-15-33-40

I tried, honest I did. As much as Kobe deserves to be hated on, I tried to not hate. I’ve often given him his props as the best player on the planet. And I know I’ve gotten amped PLENTY of times when he’s crossed a cat over and leaped over BOTH help-side defenders. And because of this, I decided that I would stop hating on Kobe once and for all.

That lasted about two months.

The fact of the matter is this, if you are the best player on the planet in a championship game in ANY team sport, there’s nothing wrong with losing to a better team. There’s even nothing wrong with getting blown out by a better team. But thirty-eight points? That’s just giving up. Especially following last year’s Western Conference Semi-Final where he took only TWO shots in a close-out loss, it has become clear that Kobe quits when he knows he’s been beaten. Mike NEVER knew he lost until that final buzzer went off. THIS is Kobe’s legacy. Not the rings, not the All-Star games and definitely NOT the MVP. Kobe’s career will always be summed up in seven words: “But he’s not as good as Mike.”

OK, maybe thirteen words: “And stay out of Eagle, Colorado!”

And Shaq, did you REALLY have to go at Pat? We all know that you don’t really think you’re better than Kareem, but why go at a dude that you averaged like thirty against? I think I just answered my own question.

What ever happened to phone courting? Most of my life, I hadn’t been a big fan of the phone. Aside from the fact that I was a horrible phone conversationalist in my really early years, phone conversations require WAY to much attention to just have some bullsh*t discourse. But now I feel like just that voice-to-voice interaction is WAY more personal than texts, e-mails and IM conversations. Talking on the phone is a much more relaxed, informal way to get to know a person. The exact OPPOSITE feel a date gives. And besides, it works as a barometer for whether or not you’d actually want to go on a date with this person.

I KNOW chicks aren’t trying to say that a dude can’t even get a conversation without leaving the house…

I’m just saying…

Since the kiddies are out of school, I like to size up groups of teenagers and try to figure out how many of them I could drop before the other dudes jumped me. I average about two, but once (just once!) I saw as many as four.

And ladies! If you don’t work out, I just CAN’T ufk with you. Sorry! I’m not the healthiest eater in the world, but I make sure that I don’t live a sedentary lifestyle. We ALL have twenty minutes in the day when we can do some pushups, situps and run up and down the stairs a few times.

If anyone wants to donate a Blackberry to my cause, I’d be more than thankful. This flip phone just ain’t getting it anymore.

Funniest line I heard this week: “I’m attracted to this girl that’s kinda shaped like a dude. Does that make me gay?” Awesome.

Lastly, I just heard this Ne-Yo rhyme (yes I said it, a RHYME) that is just ILL. Once I get my ish together, I’ll bless ya’ll with it.

Mr. Sunday Night
13-15-33-40

“a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.”*

I am a thinking man’s thinker. An over-analyzer in every sense of the term. My mind races so fast all of the time that my mouth nor my fingers can catch up to it. Not thinking is so hard that the only way I can truly do it is by sleeping. And even then I have crazy dreams. I approach just about everything in my life in a pragmatic, cerebral and systematic fashion.

Well just about everything.

Emotionally, I sway as easily as the wind changes direction. Sure, I think long and hard before I decided to immerse myself into a situation. But once I’ve engrossed myself into something, I stop thinking. I just feel. And I feel hard. Deeply and wholeheartedly. This conviction to my feelings is what allows me to shake off disappointment so fast.

When I’m disappointed, and I mean greatly disappointed, I acknowledge it. I recognize it and I deal with it. But it hits me hard. Much harder than it hits most. My negative emotions often physically manifest themselves in decreased energy and appetite, abdominal pains, lethargy/lack of focus and long periods of unnecessary sleeping. And although I “self-therapise” by writing and working out more, I don’t try to make myself feel better. I know it is a futile exercise. I know that I will not feel better until that moment comes…

*Flip.*

As hackneyed an analogy it is, there’s nothing more fitting than the light switch. To go from complete darkness to illumination with the catalyst being something as small a flick of the finger is the perfect way to describe an epiphany. With many people (I’d like to even argue most) emotions are a process. Seeing the big picture; being able to take the good out of a horrible situation takes a lot of time, self-reflection/analyzation, soul searching, talking to friends, family and even a therapist before they can even begin to healthily accept the pain, let alone get over it. Because, let’s be real. Many people’s (I’d like to even argue most) natural reaction to pain is to run away from it. To pretend that something doesn’t hurt them for fear that they will not be able to get through the pain.

But then there are the rest of us.

Those of us who take the pain head on. Those of us who look at pain as more than just negative. Yes, it hurts. Alot. It makes every minute feel longer. It takes the joy out of usually enjoyable things. It makes you want to stay in bed. It makes you want to hole yourself into a corner and hide yourself from the entire world for as long as humanly possible.

BUT

We also know that when we’re that much pain, we are ALIVE. To feel that greatly, despite the fact that it is negative emotion, is the reminder that we sometimes need that we are living beings. And it is because of this heightened recognition of life that we don’t stay in the house. We know that going to work despite literally feeling like hell is the definition of resilience. We know that fighting through a debilitating feeling IS life. And succumbing to it would be emotional death.

THIS is why we can get over things faster than most people.

*Poof*

Mr. Sunday Night
13-15-33-40

*dictionary.com