...Are usually under 5 years old, and typically, they are very much unwilling to do so with a smile on their face. And who should blame them?? Parents teach kids not to talk to strangers, then they bring their little ones to the mall to sit on the lap of some dressed-down, washed-up white-beard? A real holiday hypocrisy in my opinion. What healthy parenting. As a rule, I stay away from St. Nick, and here are a few reasons why:
1) I'm not a fan of crying kids, and there are always, always crying children around the sketch ball in the red suit. Right now, some poor tyke is screaming her lungs out, begging for Mommy while some small person in jingle-bell shoes pretends to be friendly just long enough for a decent snapshot. "Here little girl, take this candycane, and give us a big smile for Santa! Now say 'Rudolph!'" Meanwhile, the parentals are wearing some cheesy holiday outfits that make 'em look like they're on their way to a tacky sweater party. This is what you do to people, Santa. I hope you're happy.
2) Even if he wasn't shady (which he is), what does Santa have to do with the birth of Jesus Christ? Oh yeah, absolutely nothing.
3) He puts coal in the stockings of those of us who are "bad" for the year. I have two issues with this one. First, suck one you fat, judgmental fuck! How arrogant and holier-than-tho is this guy? Where does he get off making this list and checking it twice? Who are you to say whether I've been naughty or nice? And all this "see me when I'm sleeping" business?? Downright creepy, and likely unlawful. Secondly - doesn't this idiot know that we're facing a global energy crisis? Oil is a hundred bucks a barrel and he's dishing out chunks of Kingsford to get his jollies - real classy, big guy. You mean to tell me he knows if I've been bad or good, but he doesn't understand that coal is a non-renewable fossil fuel in such high demand that it's worth far more than some crappy candy or sweat-shop-made toy that he'd put in there otherwise?? This guy needs a clue like All of the Other Reindeer need equal-opportunity sensitivity training. I guess Mrs. Claus pays the $1000-a-month heating bill up at the North Pole cuz this dude is out cold. Hell, I guess I should be extra evil this year, then maybe he'll throw an offshore oil rig down my chimney. Hmm, come to think of it, maybe that's what the Bushes have been doing all these years...
4). He totally promotes slave labor. Those poor little elves are so brainwashed, they actually think unpaid labor in some Arctic sweatshop is fun. Sounds more like the workforce for some Russian czar than something a jolly old soul would try.
5) What's with the beard?? To his credit, he's taken the whole "No-Shave November" deal to new heights, but he's forgotten to shave it off at the start of the following month. For about a hundred years now. Between the overgrown facial hair and the knapsack of random goodies, he looks downright homeless. And I'm pretty sure he fits the description of the perpetrator of a string of home invasions in my 'hood. Just know, if anybody, anybody comes landing on my roof lookin for free cookies, he's gettin capped in his holly, jolly ass. Fair warning, Santa Claus. If you come to my town, you'd best be prepared to get a size 12 sent up your chimney the wrong way.
Feliz Navidad, bitches. The most wonderful time of the year, indeed.
About Me
- shadawful
- San Francisco, California, United States
- "Facts DO NOT cease to exist because they are ignored." I'm a truth-seekin', free-speakin', beat freakin' son of a gun. I'm a Georgian from Germany. I'm a kid in adult's clothing. I'm a philosopher in clown shoes. Do I know me? Well, I know me today, but who will I be tomorrow? Follow along and we'll find out together...
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
People who wear sweatpantß
True enough, we are what we eat, but does the same apply for what we wear? Doctors wear scrubs, soldiers wear camouflage, and ballett dancers wear tutus, but must we let what we wear become who we are? Let's ask People who wear sweatpants.
------------------------------
Wearing sweatpants in public makes quite a statement. It says, "Hey everybody, I just got done with some physical activity, or I am about to commence as such." Or, "Oh me? I just ran out real quick to pick up a few things, then it's back to the couch for me! I never leave the house like this, child please!"
Or, the real statement- "Damn, I feel super-comfy in these, my favorite pair of sweatpants that, somehow, magically, I never purchased, but still own and still love!"
I must confess that the first two "fashion statements" are said only in jest, to point out the ways in which our society has pegged the sweatpants and wearers thereof. They, in all of their cottony comfort, have been demoted to second- or third-rate by high-fashionistas, who seemingly place form over function in the shops of Gay Paris and New York, New York. (P.S. That "Gay Paris" thing is quite a little compliment to that lovely Euro capital du chic! But only if you say it in a cute little French accent.)
At its most basic level, clothing performs a simple set of tasks. It warms us when we're cold, and it shades us when we're hot. It protects the fairer skinned amongst us from sunburn, and it keeps niggas from turnin black!
To see this in action, look no further than the beach, where, because conditions permit, little or no clothing is acceptable, or even encouraged. And black people still have on white tees and Tims.
The reality is that a certain outfit, a certain look can get you into places you aren't necessarily supposed to be. Or, conversely, what you lack in your wardrobe can keep you out of certain places. A proper suit and tie will get you admittance into lovely hotel, with lovely people, and a lovely, comforting ambience. A good-looking uniform might grant you high-level security access at a hospital, in a school, maybe even at a military base.
But important to the discussion is the other reality that no matter what we wear, we change nothing about our core selves by changing our outer garments. Do we become lazier or more couch-potato-ish by wearing sweatpants? Of course not! Perhaps we may be couch-potato-ish at a given time and be wearing sweatpants, but you can just as easily sit around on ass in a business suit (ha, maybe get paid while you're at it if you're lucky).
The point is really to understand that our clothes should match our moods. When it's sunny, wear a sundress, and when it's rainy, rubber ducky boots. Both happy, hopeful looks, ready to enjoy the day. Don't wear white to a funeral, unless you really feel that way. And if you really feel that way, don't go to the funeral. Don't wear a negligee to church, or to your grandmother's birthday party. And don't wear hot pants to a Lovefest parade in Fabulous Frisco! Unless you're really feelin like hot pants ("HeyGirlHeeeey!!"). I think I hear an ass getting slapped.
But, and this is a big butt ("oooh hot pantsss"), we must all understand and embrace this final, crucial piece. The real value of a man comes not from the clothing on his back, but from the spirit in his heart. I may dress this way cuz I'm in a certain mood, or I may dress this way because it's my only pair of dry, clean clothing.
That's reality for so many people in this life that I can hardly stand to think about it.
But we must. Cuz we all wanted a closet like Cher from Clueless back in the day (yes, I dig Clueless), but who really got it?
To those without: You can walk into the door of a Fortune 500 company in a Goodwill coat and Payless shoes, if your resume's right and your game is tight, you got the job.
To those with (myself included): Understand that we are all, underneath the Louis, and the Prada, and the Rolex, and the make-up, and the car, and the house, underneath all that, we are all but men. Naked, mortal human beings who, just like the bums in the street, hurt and cry and bleed. Don't see someone's dirty jacket and ripped jeans and ruddy face and think it's okay to look down on them. Don't hold your nose on the bus cuz he smells bad. You don't think he would take a shower if he could? And please don't assume that cuz somebody has a slick suit and a hot ride he's worth a shit.
To start to find out what's goin on in this crazy place called Life, look at each person, each man, each woman, each child, really look them in the eye. Try to understand what they know, and what they feel, and what they love. For one day, when we all know what our neighbors know, and what our friends feel, and what our enemies love, we will all be neighbors, we will all be friends, and enemies will be no more.
-Dedicated to People who LOVE sweatpants!
Peace and Love for All,
Shad
------------------------------
Wearing sweatpants in public makes quite a statement. It says, "Hey everybody, I just got done with some physical activity, or I am about to commence as such." Or, "Oh me? I just ran out real quick to pick up a few things, then it's back to the couch for me! I never leave the house like this, child please!"
Or, the real statement- "Damn, I feel super-comfy in these, my favorite pair of sweatpants that, somehow, magically, I never purchased, but still own and still love!"
I must confess that the first two "fashion statements" are said only in jest, to point out the ways in which our society has pegged the sweatpants and wearers thereof. They, in all of their cottony comfort, have been demoted to second- or third-rate by high-fashionistas, who seemingly place form over function in the shops of Gay Paris and New York, New York. (P.S. That "Gay Paris" thing is quite a little compliment to that lovely Euro capital du chic! But only if you say it in a cute little French accent.)
At its most basic level, clothing performs a simple set of tasks. It warms us when we're cold, and it shades us when we're hot. It protects the fairer skinned amongst us from sunburn, and it keeps niggas from turnin black!
To see this in action, look no further than the beach, where, because conditions permit, little or no clothing is acceptable, or even encouraged. And black people still have on white tees and Tims.
The reality is that a certain outfit, a certain look can get you into places you aren't necessarily supposed to be. Or, conversely, what you lack in your wardrobe can keep you out of certain places. A proper suit and tie will get you admittance into lovely hotel, with lovely people, and a lovely, comforting ambience. A good-looking uniform might grant you high-level security access at a hospital, in a school, maybe even at a military base.
But important to the discussion is the other reality that no matter what we wear, we change nothing about our core selves by changing our outer garments. Do we become lazier or more couch-potato-ish by wearing sweatpants? Of course not! Perhaps we may be couch-potato-ish at a given time and be wearing sweatpants, but you can just as easily sit around on ass in a business suit (ha, maybe get paid while you're at it if you're lucky).
The point is really to understand that our clothes should match our moods. When it's sunny, wear a sundress, and when it's rainy, rubber ducky boots. Both happy, hopeful looks, ready to enjoy the day. Don't wear white to a funeral, unless you really feel that way. And if you really feel that way, don't go to the funeral. Don't wear a negligee to church, or to your grandmother's birthday party. And don't wear hot pants to a Lovefest parade in Fabulous Frisco! Unless you're really feelin like hot pants ("HeyGirlHeeeey!!"). I think I hear an ass getting slapped.
But, and this is a big butt ("oooh hot pantsss"), we must all understand and embrace this final, crucial piece. The real value of a man comes not from the clothing on his back, but from the spirit in his heart. I may dress this way cuz I'm in a certain mood, or I may dress this way because it's my only pair of dry, clean clothing.
That's reality for so many people in this life that I can hardly stand to think about it.
But we must. Cuz we all wanted a closet like Cher from Clueless back in the day (yes, I dig Clueless), but who really got it?
To those without: You can walk into the door of a Fortune 500 company in a Goodwill coat and Payless shoes, if your resume's right and your game is tight, you got the job.
To those with (myself included): Understand that we are all, underneath the Louis, and the Prada, and the Rolex, and the make-up, and the car, and the house, underneath all that, we are all but men. Naked, mortal human beings who, just like the bums in the street, hurt and cry and bleed. Don't see someone's dirty jacket and ripped jeans and ruddy face and think it's okay to look down on them. Don't hold your nose on the bus cuz he smells bad. You don't think he would take a shower if he could? And please don't assume that cuz somebody has a slick suit and a hot ride he's worth a shit.
To start to find out what's goin on in this crazy place called Life, look at each person, each man, each woman, each child, really look them in the eye. Try to understand what they know, and what they feel, and what they love. For one day, when we all know what our neighbors know, and what our friends feel, and what our enemies love, we will all be neighbors, we will all be friends, and enemies will be no more.
-Dedicated to People who LOVE sweatpants!
Peace and Love for All,
Shad
Proverbs (of mine)
1 Hurry, but don't rush. Be patient, but don't wait.
2 When you tell a story about yourself, it always becomes a story about the world. And when you tell a story about the world, it always becomes a story about you.
3 I am blessed, as are you. If we keep this in mind, you will make it, we will make it, together.
4 A man's name is his badge and his honor; use it carefully and pointedly.
5 Don't fuck with anybody and don't fuck with anybody's stuff, and most of the world will be cool most of the time.
2 When you tell a story about yourself, it always becomes a story about the world. And when you tell a story about the world, it always becomes a story about you.
3 I am blessed, as are you. If we keep this in mind, you will make it, we will make it, together.
4 A man's name is his badge and his honor; use it carefully and pointedly.
5 Don't fuck with anybody and don't fuck with anybody's stuff, and most of the world will be cool most of the time.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Getting Hit on by a 60-Year-Old Man
I gotta quit smoking. Cigarettes will be the death of me. Or the gay of me. *Shrugs* Guess that's why Euros call smokin a cig "blowing a fag." No, seriously.
Anyway, standing on the corner alone smokin a jack invites the zaniest, most beautifully awkward people into your life. Here's one more.
So this guy Michael, I meet him the night before, a regular bum tryna bum a cig or two. (Of course, take em, give me my 7 minutes of life back!) He's an English guy, like the major, not from London, and he's working on a novel - go figure. I ask what he's writing about, where I can find his work, questions he deftly deflects with quirky old-guy jokes and one-liners. I'm enjoying it at this point - a few beers deep and ready to witness some funny shit. So I listen for a bit, then roll back into the bar. Story over. Orrrr not.
Flash forward to Starbuck's, 20 hours later. I'm out sparking up a death stick when some guy comes bumbling up to me smelling like vodka and Ben-Gay. "Can I get 61 cents man?" An odd number for sure, but I'm change-less anyway, so I let him know. I look up, and lo and behold, it's Mikey, stuck somewhere between drunk, happy, cold, and "oops I almost pooped myself."
"Michael, right? I met you last night." A quick look at me, a friendly smile, and Mikey's off again, telling me wonderfully uninvited, awfully personally stories about his life. About his son who's "the next closest thing to incarcerated" - cooped up in a mental institute. Hmm, come to think of it, he may have been giving me a warning.
About his wife - "She's got my 38 year-old son living with her - treats him like he's six. You treat a grown man like he's a damn six-year-old, and he'll act like a damn six-year-old!"
"Not a fan of Mom, huh?"
"Hell no, haven't talked to her in eight years, the bitch!" I thinly veil my chuckle at this remark, and he's off again. "I used to have a beautiful apartment, up on Pacific. My son lived with me, and we both went about our business. See, me, I like the men," (Hmm... uh-oh?) "and my son and me, I never worried when he'd bring back the women and," -he interjected some oddball sex noise- "HUNGH, hungh. And he never worried about me, with the guys and the," - same sound- "HUNGH, hungh." Like I said, uh-oh.
He goes on, informing me that he's basically waiting on his mother to pass so he can inherit her $82 million fortune. "Sooo maybe she can hook you up with a few mil in the meantime. And you definitely owe me that dollar back now." Ha, sometimes I crack myself up.
At this point, I'm still wondering where this is going, getting colder and more confused by the moment. So, as I say goodbye and head back into the coffee shop, Mike gives me a cutesy little handshake, and, keeping hold with both of his weiner-beaters, he gives me a kiss on the hand - an old school, classy move (I guess...?), but a bit too soggy and Catholic-priest-ish for my liking.
I try to take it in stride, raising an eyebrow to the trio seated by the door - did they see that? Did they think that was as..... gay as I did? Only in Frisco.
I gave a little jeans-wipe, took a seat, and gave a half-grin to myself.
Cuz a straight male getting hit on by a guy is kinda like the least-appealing girl in the party showing too much love: flattering, perhaps, but style-cramping and cock-blocking for sure.
Either way, I think the wry smile on Mike's face as he walked away - was it the booze or the hand-rape? - meant that he enjoyed delivering the smooch more than I felt awkward receiving it.
So, the next time the feeling starts creeping up - "This dude is totally gay and totally hitting on me!" - don't think it's cuz you 'look gay' or 'seem a little fruity.' Don't get all pissed and try to act macho. Just laugh it off, wipe it off, whatever you gotta do. Just think of Mikey and me and our soggy, gay, little moment.
Much (Comepletely Heterosexual and/or Platonic) Love,
Shad
Anyway, standing on the corner alone smokin a jack invites the zaniest, most beautifully awkward people into your life. Here's one more.
So this guy Michael, I meet him the night before, a regular bum tryna bum a cig or two. (Of course, take em, give me my 7 minutes of life back!) He's an English guy, like the major, not from London, and he's working on a novel - go figure. I ask what he's writing about, where I can find his work, questions he deftly deflects with quirky old-guy jokes and one-liners. I'm enjoying it at this point - a few beers deep and ready to witness some funny shit. So I listen for a bit, then roll back into the bar. Story over. Orrrr not.
Flash forward to Starbuck's, 20 hours later. I'm out sparking up a death stick when some guy comes bumbling up to me smelling like vodka and Ben-Gay. "Can I get 61 cents man?" An odd number for sure, but I'm change-less anyway, so I let him know. I look up, and lo and behold, it's Mikey, stuck somewhere between drunk, happy, cold, and "oops I almost pooped myself."
"Michael, right? I met you last night." A quick look at me, a friendly smile, and Mikey's off again, telling me wonderfully uninvited, awfully personally stories about his life. About his son who's "the next closest thing to incarcerated" - cooped up in a mental institute. Hmm, come to think of it, he may have been giving me a warning.
About his wife - "She's got my 38 year-old son living with her - treats him like he's six. You treat a grown man like he's a damn six-year-old, and he'll act like a damn six-year-old!"
"Not a fan of Mom, huh?"
"Hell no, haven't talked to her in eight years, the bitch!" I thinly veil my chuckle at this remark, and he's off again. "I used to have a beautiful apartment, up on Pacific. My son lived with me, and we both went about our business. See, me, I like the men," (Hmm... uh-oh?) "and my son and me, I never worried when he'd bring back the women and," -he interjected some oddball sex noise- "HUNGH, hungh. And he never worried about me, with the guys and the," - same sound- "HUNGH, hungh." Like I said, uh-oh.
He goes on, informing me that he's basically waiting on his mother to pass so he can inherit her $82 million fortune. "Sooo maybe she can hook you up with a few mil in the meantime. And you definitely owe me that dollar back now." Ha, sometimes I crack myself up.
At this point, I'm still wondering where this is going, getting colder and more confused by the moment. So, as I say goodbye and head back into the coffee shop, Mike gives me a cutesy little handshake, and, keeping hold with both of his weiner-beaters, he gives me a kiss on the hand - an old school, classy move (I guess...?), but a bit too soggy and Catholic-priest-ish for my liking.
I try to take it in stride, raising an eyebrow to the trio seated by the door - did they see that? Did they think that was as..... gay as I did? Only in Frisco.
I gave a little jeans-wipe, took a seat, and gave a half-grin to myself.
Cuz a straight male getting hit on by a guy is kinda like the least-appealing girl in the party showing too much love: flattering, perhaps, but style-cramping and cock-blocking for sure.
Either way, I think the wry smile on Mike's face as he walked away - was it the booze or the hand-rape? - meant that he enjoyed delivering the smooch more than I felt awkward receiving it.
So, the next time the feeling starts creeping up - "This dude is totally gay and totally hitting on me!" - don't think it's cuz you 'look gay' or 'seem a little fruity.' Don't get all pissed and try to act macho. Just laugh it off, wipe it off, whatever you gotta do. Just think of Mikey and me and our soggy, gay, little moment.
Much (Comepletely Heterosexual and/or Platonic) Love,
Shad
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Oh yeah...
Oh yeah, how could I forget--
6) To learn grace and giving - Those who have the least give the most. Check it out if you have doubt.
Love,
Me
6) To learn grace and giving - Those who have the least give the most. Check it out if you have doubt.
Love,
Me
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Why I want to be homeless - a List
I met some homeless San Franciscans. This group has far more knowledge than common misconceptions may allow. The pain felt is mine. But I've found little pain, lots of glory. Here is what I intend to learn after I become a person of the street:
1) To learn humility - Take lessons from one and all, for it is with humility that true strength and control are developed.
2) To learn thrift - We are bombarded by the overabundance of all -- people, things, all commodities coming and going after a buck. The true soul knows its needs and satisfies them exclusively.
3) To learn humor - Shit gets real funny when you're broke. But will you laugh or cry?
4) To be uncomfortable - Escaping the pampered cushiness of everyday boredom unlocks doors we can't even see yet. You'll surprise yourself at every turn. That's a promise.
5) To be handy - You'd be shocked at the enterprise of the homeless -- finding shelter here, scraping up a meal there! All with the skillful craftiness of one who has seen and done many things. We all have the know-how to get the things we truly need. Done.
1) To learn humility - Take lessons from one and all, for it is with humility that true strength and control are developed.
2) To learn thrift - We are bombarded by the overabundance of all -- people, things, all commodities coming and going after a buck. The true soul knows its needs and satisfies them exclusively.
3) To learn humor - Shit gets real funny when you're broke. But will you laugh or cry?
4) To be uncomfortable - Escaping the pampered cushiness of everyday boredom unlocks doors we can't even see yet. You'll surprise yourself at every turn. That's a promise.
5) To be handy - You'd be shocked at the enterprise of the homeless -- finding shelter here, scraping up a meal there! All with the skillful craftiness of one who has seen and done many things. We all have the know-how to get the things we truly need. Done.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
People Being People by Jesus Christ
I'm going to write a book. With help, of course. My good friend and guide into Jewish lore, Adeevil shall help. Timmy J too.
The title? People Being People. Written by Jesus Christ. Uh-oh, I can feel the Vatican's rebuke coming already.
The inspiration came from an impromptu one-liner turned super-lame-but-somehow-funny insider. Two kids trippin face rollin into Red Rocks? "Maaan just people bein people." Crazy events staffers with a vengence? Thanks for snatchin our $4 bottle of vodka. Two chicks going from "Hey beeetch I'm gonna claw your face off," to "Hey we should totally make out!" Yes, that did happen. In the course of about 15 seconds. Just chalk it up to people being people.
Cuz people do drugs, people get mad, and people make out. It's what we do. People being people.
What awakened me to such a simple, almost mundane refrain?
The Rocky Mountain High.
Ahh, the Rocky Mountain High. Just being in such a clean, wholesome environment makes ya feel good. From meeting the Spirit of Red Rocks while he held an aftershow jam sesh in the men's room to learning of the Dead Heads kickin it around Boulder following the ghost of Jerry Garcia, the greater Denver area is ripe with opportunities to connect. To connect with oneself, to connect with music, to connect with nature, to connect with people. Being people, of course.
And even though our trip out to Colorodo has been highlighted by the radical sounds of MF Doom, Red N Meth, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs drowning the crowd in glory at the Red Rocks Monolith Festival, it's not just music that moves up here.
It's the cragged-out mountains; it's the alpine-y fresh flora; it's the sweet indoor/outdoor feel of the local dwellings. It's about a certain scene, a certain mood that seems to find its way into every Bronco and Buffalo bee-boppin on down Broadway. It's that feeling that everyone is dancing to their own beat, yet when you stop to listen for the expected chaos of disparate noises, what you hear is a percussive symphony of movement and peace.
Maybe Stoner-Hippie is tickling the high-hat. Maybe Headie-Dreadie is diddling the djembe. And Mr. Monolith Stone is pounding that BIG drum that the biiig boys carry in the band.
What instrument do I play? Maybe I'll be the clap guy for this set. Or maybe my body will make music while I gyrate to this jam. Or maybe I'll just grab a glow stick from my neighbor and start conducting, letting the smoke and lights and sounds and smells and feels all run through me until they run together, synaesthesia overload.
And it's in that moment that all control is at once mine and no one's. The mood is right for us to let go and not worry about who's conducting. The time is perfect to just let the world take the reigns and do your part to just BE.
People being people.
By Jesus Christ.
Mother Earth
There are times that humble you.
There are times that overwhelm you with Joy.
There are times when you feel empty.
There are times when you feel stuffed.
Stuffed full of food, stuffed full of anger, stuffed full of jealousy, whatever.
But the moments that deliver near-impossible ecstasy?
Worth everything else and more. Cuz
Life's fucked up no matter what you're on.
And life is beautiful no matter what you're on.
It's all about the lense through which you see life.
If you put in, you will get out.
If you give in, you will live on.
Give in to the whims of your heart,
For the whims of your heart are the needs of the Earth.
You want to live because She needs you to live.
You want to love because She needs love.
Our father, our mother, our god?
Who is he anyway?
She is Love.
And where Love lives, God is near.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Truth, Justice, and the American Way
This is the story of Metropolis, Illinois and its run-in with yours truly and the Lois to my Clark Kent, Timmy J. No, not in a gay way, but more like an only-he-knows-my-true-identity kinda way.
Metropolis, Illinois, known for being the home of Superman, was the first stop in the trek across the country. Located just across the Ohio River from Paducah, Kentucky, Metropolis boasts not only a frighteningly serious collection of creepy Lex Luthor memorabilia, but a more legitimate historical site (sorry Superman lovers), Fort Massac. The fortress has history dating back to 1540's Spanish settlers, was a waypoint for Lewis & Clark, and was recommissioned as garrison for American troops by General George Washington in the years following the French and Indian War.
But that's not why we went there either.
Metropolis became for us a perfect springboard into the rest of the world. Leaving Atlanta, Georgia for the great unknown out West sounds wonderful, but the reality is that going from the pampered comforts of indoor living to rough and rugged camping in places like Zion National Park and the Mojave Preserve is quite a lifestyle shift. Metropolis served as a buffer zone of sorts, a place where we could get lost in the woods for a few hours, orrr grab a few snacks at the Big John grocery store (you just can't miss it...)
In my head, Metropolis has become a symbol, kind of "Into the Wild" meets "Last of the Mohicans" meets any movie starring Christopher Reeves. (He did other stuff besides Superman, right?)
We hung out with the souls of fallen privates, admiring a centuries-old (replica?) barracks. We stormed our way from the banks of the mighty Ohio River, dodging invisible shots from sentries long-since passed away. We had a moment of peace high above the world, kicking back in the third-story watchtower guarding the rear entry of the fort.
Ha, rear entry.
But anyway, to make a day-long story short, Metropolis was uniquely ideal for our initial pit stop. We were out in the woods, open to the elements, but I coulda thrown a rock and hit the cheap, typical Mexican spot across the street from the park. Outdoorsy? Tourist-trappy? Superman-y? What is this place they call Metropolis? All I know is that for a sunny day and for a chilly night, it was Home.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
I'm a Craig's List Freak
So the title must be a giveaway, but I must say so once again - I am a Craig's List Freak.
There, I said it.
Let me begin with the story of why I was on the CList anyway (yeah CList - ballin nickname)...
So as the blog-world knows, I am moving to California in a week (gasp). In the spirit of this, me and my co-pilot Timmy have been trolling through the depths looking for places to live, people with similar travel plans, places to stay along the way... you get the picture. Well, the joy of the CList is that you can look for and find all of these things, so long as you don't get distracted by the 87 bazillion other things to search for, including but not limited to: foot fetish folks, BBW, discreet casual encounters, men seeking men, women seeking women, men seeking men AND women, women seeking trannies, trannies seeking household cleaning (no, seriously), and.... phew... so many, many more.
What began as a casual foray into a entertaining, exciting, eclectic new electronic world has quickly evolved into an obession, a desire for CList acceptance, a need to feel like I'm worthy of a casual encounter in the back of a Caravan with a (sort-of) married (unhappily) housewife. Okay, so I'm not that big of a scum-bag, but seeing so many off-the-wall posts makes me wonder: Are these people serious??
Do you really want to lease out your apartment with the sole condition that the roomie is a disease-, drug-, and drama-free young woman willing to trade household cleaning and occasional sexual favors for rent?? Party on, brother. Do you really want to surf the net looking for a well-hung black dude to stuff your wife?? Hey man, to each his own. And do you really think you're gonna find a legitimate contractor while offering only 25 bucks to re-pour your driveway?? Get serious buddy.
Suffice it to say that reading post after post has taken all of my efforts to maintain my personal pact committing to myself that I would give a concerted effort to NOT judge people. A pact of active non-judgment if you will. Trust me, it's harder than you think, especially when "Honey Colored Voluptuous Woman" is on the scene. I mean it's just plain hilarious.
To be clear, I must say that I do not want to make light of the romantics of the CList world, I just find it comical how people choose to describe themselves in these ever-so-personal personal ads. Let's take a look at this real CList example from 'Let's horse around together,' a woman in Colorado:
"I am semi-retired and spend most of my time at home. Not the best way to meet someone so I thought to give this a try. I like to spend time with my dog and my horse. I am a little shy and not the best for conversation but not mute either. I guess I would like the company of a man once in a while. Write if you think you might be interested."
Aaaand to make it all come together, she, oooof course, has a picture with her hangin on her ranch with... yup u guessed it, a horse. Get it? Like let's, you know, us, HORSE around together! It's a wonder she doesn't get out much.
But enough of being a dick and ripping people for pouring their hearts out for the world. All I want is for Let's Horse Around Together and everyone else on the CList to take this one piece of advice - LIE! Okay, don't lie, but understand that in this forum, the user-created content means that individuals have the freedom to leave out any shortcomings one may have. You know, leave out the part about how you've been living on Kraft Mac 'n' Cheeze for 3 weeks. Forget the part about how you've been lied to and cheating on by every guy you've ever known. Nobody cares if you "love bubbles, coloring books, kites, and sidewalk chalk." (No, seriously, an adult person said that) And definitely save the naughty pics of your 300 pound ass for the people who actually respond to your post *shudder*...
So, in order to cure these sickening ills across the CList, I propose 3 simple rules, Commandments of Craig's List, if you will:
1. Be yourself. Not all of yourself, not right away, but be yourself! Highlight your positives, downplay the rest.
2. Be clear about what you are looking for. Confusion and a lack of communication yield a lack of action. Trust me.
3. Don't take it too seriously - and don't take "real life" dating too seriously either, while you're at it. But still use spellcheck.
Having said allll that, what did I do??? Made a post of course. And by "a post" of course I mean "several posts in several different locales." Why wouldn't I? I followed my own rules of course, choosing a picture that I consider to be flattering. I did, moreover, check my post for blatant spelling errors (seriously, spellcheck?) And, I chose to keep it short and sweet and to-the-point.
So, here is, verbatim, the post that I made on Craig's List. This is why I'm a CList Freak:
"I am an attractive, young bi-racial male looking for a "casual encounter" in the next day or so. I'm 6'4", 190 pounds, with curly hair and a big cheezy smile. I have been into older women recently, but as long as you're a good-looking woman who's open to experiment, I'm down like four flat tires. (Or up, as it were...) Let me be clear - this is strictly for sexual encounters. I don't want to go out on a date, I really don't want to get to know anyone in particular, I'm just looking for a hot Georgia Peach before I move to California next week. This is the epitome of NSA, trust me. That said, I'm not a jerk, and, if you're cool, I'm sure we will get to know each other well enough along the way. Hit me up if you're interested."
*****DISCLAIMER*****
This disclaimer was NOT posted on the CList, but is, rather, for the blog audience (which, apparently, includes my mother and a former elementary school teacher, ewwww). This ad was placed merely as a social experiment, a tiny worm on a tiny hook in a gigantic ocean that will in no way, shape, or form actually work. And even if it did, and even if the respondants are awesome and super-hot, I have not, and will not ever, condone or appreciate gratuitous, emotionless sexual interactions. Ask any of my college buddies, they'll tell ya. Sex is for married people. And not even all married people, only the ones in love. That is all.
*****END OF DISCLAIMER*****
So, have I learned any lessons in my CListing tonight? Well, first off, be wary of the ones with pictures... even though it seems like you might want to see what you're getting into before you actually take time to read these crazy little posts. My wariness stems from my first glimpse at a "woman" playing with herself with some foreign object. No further comment. Secondly, don't be too quick to judge. It is easy, with all these willing targets exposing themselves to the world, but take a second to think - if you think they're weirdos for posting this stuff, how weird are YOU for looking at it??
Lastly, assume the worst. I personally think this glass-half-empty approach is useful for any initial dating contact, from dropping a random line to a cutie at the bar to gettin freaky on the CList. My reasoning comes from the fact that, in dating, if you have low standards, then even a moderately interesting person will at least be fun for a night. Nothing sucks worse than an uppity bitch who needs a $100 dinner at Ruth's Chris and a Tom Brady lookalike with Katt Williams humor.
And if that's the kind of thing you're looking for, don't bother hitting up the CList. Don't bother going to a bar, don't speed date, don't E-Harmonize cuz NONE OF THEM WILL WORK TO FIND THAT IMAGINARY PERSON! Just lower your standards, juuuust a hair, and only for first dates. I'm not saying lower your overall standards for what you seek in a life-long mate, but for a night-long date, just aim for fun and the rest will take care of itself. Dating is supposed to be a fun way to get to know someone new, and, hey, maybe u get lucky at the end of the night. But as for me and my pimpin little post, don't worry - I'll be gettin some action. Cuz on the CList, everybody's a freak.
There, I said it.
Let me begin with the story of why I was on the CList anyway (yeah CList - ballin nickname)...
So as the blog-world knows, I am moving to California in a week (gasp). In the spirit of this, me and my co-pilot Timmy have been trolling through the depths looking for places to live, people with similar travel plans, places to stay along the way... you get the picture. Well, the joy of the CList is that you can look for and find all of these things, so long as you don't get distracted by the 87 bazillion other things to search for, including but not limited to: foot fetish folks, BBW, discreet casual encounters, men seeking men, women seeking women, men seeking men AND women, women seeking trannies, trannies seeking household cleaning (no, seriously), and.... phew... so many, many more.
What began as a casual foray into a entertaining, exciting, eclectic new electronic world has quickly evolved into an obession, a desire for CList acceptance, a need to feel like I'm worthy of a casual encounter in the back of a Caravan with a (sort-of) married (unhappily) housewife. Okay, so I'm not that big of a scum-bag, but seeing so many off-the-wall posts makes me wonder: Are these people serious??
Do you really want to lease out your apartment with the sole condition that the roomie is a disease-, drug-, and drama-free young woman willing to trade household cleaning and occasional sexual favors for rent?? Party on, brother. Do you really want to surf the net looking for a well-hung black dude to stuff your wife?? Hey man, to each his own. And do you really think you're gonna find a legitimate contractor while offering only 25 bucks to re-pour your driveway?? Get serious buddy.
Suffice it to say that reading post after post has taken all of my efforts to maintain my personal pact committing to myself that I would give a concerted effort to NOT judge people. A pact of active non-judgment if you will. Trust me, it's harder than you think, especially when "Honey Colored Voluptuous Woman" is on the scene. I mean it's just plain hilarious.
To be clear, I must say that I do not want to make light of the romantics of the CList world, I just find it comical how people choose to describe themselves in these ever-so-personal personal ads. Let's take a look at this real CList example from 'Let's horse around together,' a woman in Colorado:
"I am semi-retired and spend most of my time at home. Not the best way to meet someone so I thought to give this a try. I like to spend time with my dog and my horse. I am a little shy and not the best for conversation but not mute either. I guess I would like the company of a man once in a while. Write if you think you might be interested."
Aaaand to make it all come together, she, oooof course, has a picture with her hangin on her ranch with... yup u guessed it, a horse. Get it? Like let's, you know, us, HORSE around together! It's a wonder she doesn't get out much.
But enough of being a dick and ripping people for pouring their hearts out for the world. All I want is for Let's Horse Around Together and everyone else on the CList to take this one piece of advice - LIE! Okay, don't lie, but understand that in this forum, the user-created content means that individuals have the freedom to leave out any shortcomings one may have. You know, leave out the part about how you've been living on Kraft Mac 'n' Cheeze for 3 weeks. Forget the part about how you've been lied to and cheating on by every guy you've ever known. Nobody cares if you "love bubbles, coloring books, kites, and sidewalk chalk." (No, seriously, an adult person said that) And definitely save the naughty pics of your 300 pound ass for the people who actually respond to your post *shudder*...
So, in order to cure these sickening ills across the CList, I propose 3 simple rules, Commandments of Craig's List, if you will:
1. Be yourself. Not all of yourself, not right away, but be yourself! Highlight your positives, downplay the rest.
2. Be clear about what you are looking for. Confusion and a lack of communication yield a lack of action. Trust me.
3. Don't take it too seriously - and don't take "real life" dating too seriously either, while you're at it. But still use spellcheck.
Having said allll that, what did I do??? Made a post of course. And by "a post" of course I mean "several posts in several different locales." Why wouldn't I? I followed my own rules of course, choosing a picture that I consider to be flattering. I did, moreover, check my post for blatant spelling errors (seriously, spellcheck?) And, I chose to keep it short and sweet and to-the-point.
So, here is, verbatim, the post that I made on Craig's List. This is why I'm a CList Freak:
"I am an attractive, young bi-racial male looking for a "casual encounter" in the next day or so. I'm 6'4", 190 pounds, with curly hair and a big cheezy smile. I have been into older women recently, but as long as you're a good-looking woman who's open to experiment, I'm down like four flat tires. (Or up, as it were...) Let me be clear - this is strictly for sexual encounters. I don't want to go out on a date, I really don't want to get to know anyone in particular, I'm just looking for a hot Georgia Peach before I move to California next week. This is the epitome of NSA, trust me. That said, I'm not a jerk, and, if you're cool, I'm sure we will get to know each other well enough along the way. Hit me up if you're interested."
*****DISCLAIMER*****
This disclaimer was NOT posted on the CList, but is, rather, for the blog audience (which, apparently, includes my mother and a former elementary school teacher, ewwww). This ad was placed merely as a social experiment, a tiny worm on a tiny hook in a gigantic ocean that will in no way, shape, or form actually work. And even if it did, and even if the respondants are awesome and super-hot, I have not, and will not ever, condone or appreciate gratuitous, emotionless sexual interactions. Ask any of my college buddies, they'll tell ya. Sex is for married people. And not even all married people, only the ones in love. That is all.
*****END OF DISCLAIMER*****
So, have I learned any lessons in my CListing tonight? Well, first off, be wary of the ones with pictures... even though it seems like you might want to see what you're getting into before you actually take time to read these crazy little posts. My wariness stems from my first glimpse at a "woman" playing with herself with some foreign object. No further comment. Secondly, don't be too quick to judge. It is easy, with all these willing targets exposing themselves to the world, but take a second to think - if you think they're weirdos for posting this stuff, how weird are YOU for looking at it??
Lastly, assume the worst. I personally think this glass-half-empty approach is useful for any initial dating contact, from dropping a random line to a cutie at the bar to gettin freaky on the CList. My reasoning comes from the fact that, in dating, if you have low standards, then even a moderately interesting person will at least be fun for a night. Nothing sucks worse than an uppity bitch who needs a $100 dinner at Ruth's Chris and a Tom Brady lookalike with Katt Williams humor.
And if that's the kind of thing you're looking for, don't bother hitting up the CList. Don't bother going to a bar, don't speed date, don't E-Harmonize cuz NONE OF THEM WILL WORK TO FIND THAT IMAGINARY PERSON! Just lower your standards, juuuust a hair, and only for first dates. I'm not saying lower your overall standards for what you seek in a life-long mate, but for a night-long date, just aim for fun and the rest will take care of itself. Dating is supposed to be a fun way to get to know someone new, and, hey, maybe u get lucky at the end of the night. But as for me and my pimpin little post, don't worry - I'll be gettin some action. Cuz on the CList, everybody's a freak.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Going, Going, Back, Back
I'm going, going, back, back.
Maybe, perhaps inevitably. But more important than what I don't know is what I do know. I know I am a people person, able to create and maintain positive relationships with folks from all walks of life. I know that regardless of where I am, or who I'm with, I can and will find the best in a given situation. I know that I can rely on my wits, and I have my forty-thousand dollar piece of paper that says so.
But this trip isn't about any winning any awards or getting any certificates. It's all about proving to myself and to my family and to any doubters I may encounter along the way that life is worth living. It's worth the risk to move out of a known safe zone to make the leap from the easy comfort of home to the great unknown of a new place. The journey is about new places, new faces, and new challenges to tackle. It's about stepping out on that limb without losing sight of the trunk. It's about new relations and long vacations. It's about live music and
freestyles. It's about bein a drunken fool
and a dancin king (mad props to ABBA). It's about encountering the world and saying, "Here I am; hit me with all you got!"
I'm hittin the road, gettin outta dodge, going wherever the wind takes me. (Okay enough cliches... more on that later)
Now where to, what for?? These are the next thoughts that emanate from this confused, excited, conflicted, anxious mind of mine. Does it even matter? Am I going just for the sake of going? Well, yes and no. See, no decision in life is just one thing. It's a collective, a set of ideas that trigger the takeoff that inevitably sends you on a course of twists and turns, ups and downs one can only imagine at the time the decision's been made.
First things first - where to?
Well, the immediate answer is that I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali. The land of dreams, the destination of lost souls, the end of the Western world, the land where the sun sets. The plight of every almost-was actor and could-have-been model comes with me. The angst of the poor younger son, driven west by a lack of opportunity this side of the Mississip, that is my angst. The fear of the railman, the miner forty-niner, this is my fear. The ardor of the journeyman, the excitement of the wayward wanderer, this is my ardor, my excitement.
I GOT 4 FINGAZ UP...
I GOT 4 FINGAZ UP...
...2 CROSSED IN THE MIDDLEBut what will come of it all?
Well, it's impossible to say, but I hope what will come is some sense of self-peace that has been, as yet, impossible to find in Corporate America. I seek only a moment of "no you can't" turning into "yes I did." Pardon the cliche, but the journey itself is the destination. (sidebar - "cliche" is officially cliche in '09, so let's diversify our linguistic approach... yup, that was the 'more later'). Living life on my own schedule (time-clocks be damned!), floating by on my own whimsy, drifting around the country, then the world on a singular quest, a quest of self-improvement and, thereby, improvement on the world I know.
Maybe, perhaps inevitably. But more important than what I don't know is what I do know. I know I am a people person, able to create and maintain positive relationships with folks from all walks of life. I know that regardless of where I am, or who I'm with, I can and will find the best in a given situation. I know that I can rely on my wits, and I have my forty-thousand dollar piece of paper that says so.
But this trip isn't about any winning any awards or getting any certificates. It's all about proving to myself and to my family and to any doubters I may encounter along the way that life is worth living. It's worth the risk to move out of a known safe zone to make the leap from the easy comfort of home to the great unknown of a new place. The journey is about new places, new faces, and new challenges to tackle. It's about stepping out on that limb without losing sight of the trunk. It's about new relations and long vacations. It's about live music and
freestyles. It's about bein a drunken fool
and a dancin king (mad props to ABBA). It's about encountering the world and saying, "Here I am; hit me with all you got!" But, no matter how things end up, I know that I will document every peak and valley, describe every ebb and flow of life that I find along the way. I am making a pact to myself that, regardless of what occurs on this life-trip, I will be open and honest. Open for myself, honest to the world. I write for me, I write for free, but mostly, I write just to be. To be a part of the world and to know that my history will not be written by any scholar, or any boss, or anybody but yours truly. In the living words of Incubus front man Brandon Boyd, "If I fuck me, I'll fuck me in my own way." I won't let fear get in the way. I won't let money get in the way. I won't let overconfidence eat me up from the inside. I will stay humble, stay poised, and always remember to let my heart guide me when my eyes don't understand what they see. I will be a spark in the dark, a light in the night, another Bic in the air waving to the music of the concert of Life.
And ultimately, I imagine this journey will end exactly where it begins - Home. Home may be in a different city then, or a different region or country, but wherever Home is, that's where I'll be - going, going, back, back.
-Love, Peace, and Harmony to All and for All-
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Run faster
Run faster run faster
I'm a slave to the game
And u the master
Lifes upside down
Natural disaster
We drivin faster
Still givin gas Sir
Life's pedal to the heavy metal
Blaster
Yes I is mad Sir
My words is mad slurred
If words could kill then this would
Prolly peel your cap Sir
A time capsule
Living art trying to make the Master Peace
Inside of us all beating heart of a beast
From the west and the east
Indies
People one mind, different style,
Very different tendencies
Animals
But we write from the same hand
Live on the same land
Come to think about it
We both got the same brands
Same face same eyes
Same hair same hands
Same blood same tears
Same bones when we break em
We droppin bombs and buildin walls now they're
Forgotten and Foresaken
For godssakes!
For who's sakes?
For mistakes.
For forgettin that the only way to
Change Tommorow,
Is to Change Today
But we just keep runnin
And we just keep runnin
And we just keep gunnin
Up each others necks to kill
We outside sunnin
Fired up on the grill
I just keep it real
I just live it honest
Hooked to the rap game
Call me raps on phonics
Way fast supersonic
Hedgin bets hedgin hogs
Dodgin traffic old school
Lane to lane we the frogs
Green buggy eyed coupe
Fuck the law, pray to you
Won't catch me hundred miles an hour
What the fuck they gonna do?
Livin powerrr
Full never empty
Bad hoes bad weed nah homie don't tempt me
This aint a temp see?
We movin in
Landscapin whole world
We best friends nexta kin
I'm here to win
First place first race
Don't matter its just words
But my sound never erase
Yeah we eat great
Yeah we good
Still time for the kids
Givin back to the hood
The streets that raised us
Tv's that made us
Actim bad yeah
I'm on my worst of behavior
I'm not a savior
I'm just tryna find a few
That get down like me
Whatchu gonna do?
Who you wanna screw?
It aint me, then pick him out
Or pick her up and come with me
We goin to the clouds
I'm talkin right now
You thinkin bout later
We bout to trip around the world
We start around the equator
Cuz nothing'd be greater
Than me and you to share
Woman and man me and you
We make a nice pair
Some nights I might spare
Tonight I'm gonna strike
The irons hot right now
Knock it out like Mike
Next time I'll be po-lite
But now it don't seem right
I'm contemplatin and debatin
Girl but don't think twice
We playin three blind mice
Or we can cut on the lights
Its up to you its up to her
I play it cool like ice
So baby roll the dice
Come on roll n wit me
I bet some tricks up in your
Sleeves you wanna show to me
I wanna shoulder you
I'm talkin boulder you
Rock hard miss thang
I'm talkin bold are you?
So what really?
I'm feelin all of this is silly
I've got a friend for you to meet
I named him mr. willy
But for real see?
I'm just tryna chill, see?
So let's hit the road
Takin off in a hurry
Front and back seat
Two fine girlies, duuude
Yeah I gotta cut the heat
Its goin real good
Leave that fake shit alone
Time to man up cut the wood
Bring the bone
Call me hoes r us
Cuz I don't wanna grow up
If my you my girl you my ho
If you my ho yous a slut
No need to question what
Happens to finish this story
Just know that baby aint mine You betta holla at Maury
I'm a slave to the game
And u the master
Lifes upside down
Natural disaster
We drivin faster
Still givin gas Sir
Life's pedal to the heavy metal
Blaster
Yes I is mad Sir
My words is mad slurred
If words could kill then this would
Prolly peel your cap Sir
A time capsule
Living art trying to make the Master Peace
Inside of us all beating heart of a beast
From the west and the east
Indies
People one mind, different style,
Very different tendencies
Animals
But we write from the same hand
Live on the same land
Come to think about it
We both got the same brands
Same face same eyes
Same hair same hands
Same blood same tears
Same bones when we break em
We droppin bombs and buildin walls now they're
Forgotten and Foresaken
For godssakes!
For who's sakes?
For mistakes.
For forgettin that the only way to
Change Tommorow,
Is to Change Today
But we just keep runnin
And we just keep runnin
And we just keep gunnin
Up each others necks to kill
We outside sunnin
Fired up on the grill
I just keep it real
I just live it honest
Hooked to the rap game
Call me raps on phonics
Way fast supersonic
Hedgin bets hedgin hogs
Dodgin traffic old school
Lane to lane we the frogs
Green buggy eyed coupe
Fuck the law, pray to you
Won't catch me hundred miles an hour
What the fuck they gonna do?
Livin powerrr
Full never empty
Bad hoes bad weed nah homie don't tempt me
This aint a temp see?
We movin in
Landscapin whole world
We best friends nexta kin
I'm here to win
First place first race
Don't matter its just words
But my sound never erase
Yeah we eat great
Yeah we good
Still time for the kids
Givin back to the hood
The streets that raised us
Tv's that made us
Actim bad yeah
I'm on my worst of behavior
I'm not a savior
I'm just tryna find a few
That get down like me
Whatchu gonna do?
Who you wanna screw?
It aint me, then pick him out
Or pick her up and come with me
We goin to the clouds
I'm talkin right now
You thinkin bout later
We bout to trip around the world
We start around the equator
Cuz nothing'd be greater
Than me and you to share
Woman and man me and you
We make a nice pair
Some nights I might spare
Tonight I'm gonna strike
The irons hot right now
Knock it out like Mike
Next time I'll be po-lite
But now it don't seem right
I'm contemplatin and debatin
Girl but don't think twice
We playin three blind mice
Or we can cut on the lights
Its up to you its up to her
I play it cool like ice
So baby roll the dice
Come on roll n wit me
I bet some tricks up in your
Sleeves you wanna show to me
I wanna shoulder you
I'm talkin boulder you
Rock hard miss thang
I'm talkin bold are you?
So what really?
I'm feelin all of this is silly
I've got a friend for you to meet
I named him mr. willy
But for real see?
I'm just tryna chill, see?
So let's hit the road
Takin off in a hurry
Front and back seat
Two fine girlies, duuude
Yeah I gotta cut the heat
Its goin real good
Leave that fake shit alone
Time to man up cut the wood
Bring the bone
Call me hoes r us
Cuz I don't wanna grow up
If my you my girl you my ho
If you my ho yous a slut
No need to question what
Happens to finish this story
Just know that baby aint mine You betta holla at Maury
What's Love?
What is love without the hate?
What is justice without crime?
What's wealth without poverty?
What's the darkness without shine?
What's the answer to the question
When curious george-like we inquire
"Would we appreciate the cool breeze
If we ne'er knew the fire?"
What is sober without drunk?
And what's a cool guy with no punk?
And what's a smooth set shot
If no one ever thinks to dunk?
What's the spring when there's no fall?
What's a floor without a wall?
And tell me how would we learn to run
If ne'er did we fall?
What's a win without the loss?
What is money with no cost?
And what's a dirty, nasty, rotten smile
If no one ever flossed?
What is up when there's no down?
What's unfunny with no clown?
And how could silence speak such volumes
If ne'er we heard the sound?
What is night without the day?
What's the dirt without the shovel?
I'd like to know, please tell me,
Who is god without the devil?
What's the truth without the lies?
Who's the lord if they're no flies?
And tell me now what is the brownest earth
If we know not of the bluest skies?
Who am I without you?
Who are you without me?
Would we, could we know what's healthy
If there was no H.I.V.?
What is laughter without tears?
And security without fears?
And tell please, if u would,
Who's the blind man with no seers?
What is one without the zero?
What's the past without the future?
Who's the villain with no hero?
Who's the victim with no shooter?
What is youth without old age?
What is happy with no rage?
And what is freedom, might I ask you,
If ne'er we knew the cage?
What's the yin without the yang?
What's the difference with no same?
I may be crazy cuz I think this way,
But that's only with your sane.
I say these words not to discourage
But just to make you think-
Could you know the greatest hunger
If you didn't know the food and drink?
Would you thirst for knowledge
If ignorance were not bliss?
And could you strike a man in hatred
If you never knew a lovers kiss?
What is justice without crime?
What's wealth without poverty?
What's the darkness without shine?
What's the answer to the question
When curious george-like we inquire
"Would we appreciate the cool breeze
If we ne'er knew the fire?"
What is sober without drunk?
And what's a cool guy with no punk?
And what's a smooth set shot
If no one ever thinks to dunk?
What's the spring when there's no fall?
What's a floor without a wall?
And tell me how would we learn to run
If ne'er did we fall?
What's a win without the loss?
What is money with no cost?
And what's a dirty, nasty, rotten smile
If no one ever flossed?
What is up when there's no down?
What's unfunny with no clown?
And how could silence speak such volumes
If ne'er we heard the sound?
What is night without the day?
What's the dirt without the shovel?
I'd like to know, please tell me,
Who is god without the devil?
What's the truth without the lies?
Who's the lord if they're no flies?
And tell me now what is the brownest earth
If we know not of the bluest skies?
Who am I without you?
Who are you without me?
Would we, could we know what's healthy
If there was no H.I.V.?
What is laughter without tears?
And security without fears?
And tell please, if u would,
Who's the blind man with no seers?
What is one without the zero?
What's the past without the future?
Who's the villain with no hero?
Who's the victim with no shooter?
What is youth without old age?
What is happy with no rage?
And what is freedom, might I ask you,
If ne'er we knew the cage?
What's the yin without the yang?
What's the difference with no same?
I may be crazy cuz I think this way,
But that's only with your sane.
I say these words not to discourage
But just to make you think-
Could you know the greatest hunger
If you didn't know the food and drink?
Would you thirst for knowledge
If ignorance were not bliss?
And could you strike a man in hatred
If you never knew a lovers kiss?
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Ugly Duckling - Spoken Word
Stand up show yourself young man and I will show u somethin
Its life live it well then grab a pen and start dumpin
Always keep the party jumpin
Always your eyes on the prize
Don't waste your time or your thoughts with petty talk and petty lies
Just sit back and analyze
Think about it for a minute
Because the only way to change the world
Is to change the people in it
When I rhyme its like a clinic
Cuz I'm sick up in the head
Ima product of the world i think about the shit I'm fed
Is he a fag is she a les? Is he a cracka or a nigga
The words mean nothin to me cuz a minds way bigger
Than a finger on the trigger
Or a hand that holds a sword
The world lives inside of all of us
Everyones a lord
Everyones alone
Everyones at home
We come from the earth every vessel every bone
So can't we get along?
Can't we sing this song?
Yes there's power one by one but the teams way strong
Love ur neighbor and your hater
Love your underestimator
Love the north pole's cold
Love the heat from the equator
Love the earthquaker
Love destroyers and the makers
Love quiet kid that's in the corner and the one who's on his best behavior
Love the bum that's in the streets
And love the meal about to eat
And love the gangstà rapper lookin for a mil to speak
A couple thousand just to come
A couple thousand all in ones
Love the momma workin on the pole
Love the churches and the nuns
U might love a boy u might love a girl
I might hate my insides but I still love the world
Elevate ur mind awhile above the world
Well not above the world
I'm talkin more about perspective
Its not about rockin the gucci hoppin out the lexus
No I'm not about the lexuses I'm all about my next a kin
I'm walkin next to u yes I'm a regular pedestrian
Knockin betta let me in I'm hangin by the front door
I got so much, give it back
But I then my heart looks out for more
Life is not a bore, no
And life is not a bitch
I gotta secret gotta tell ya
Tho I'm really not a snitch
I just gotta itch middle back I cant scratch
I'll be the gasoline and u can be the perfect match
Little seed little egg yes one day you will hatch
They will try to come and fight but
Never give in to attack
Start some love, end a fight
Roll it up and ignite
Now we blazin hot
Aint it amazin what
We can do together, come together the time we need
Is right now right here, get the picture?
I been workin by my lonesome but I aint nuttin 'less I'm wit cha
Me and u hold hands sing songs change the globe
Twist it up pop a bottle light ya like a strobe
That means I'm on and off
U got the keys u got the switch
So let me see it let me hear it u and me, yeah we gotta gift
I mean we gotta GIVE mi casa su casa
I am cool solo but wit chu way hotta
Tell ya sista ya brotha ya motha and ya fada
Free will is all of ours from da bum to tha docta
Yes I know that it might shock ya
But I do believe
We are all martin luthers
Kings wit one dream
Doing anything do it when we sing
We eatin from the same table what did you bring
I am a king young girl yous a queen
Don't listen to tha hatas jealousy neva sting
Unless you just let it fuck em forget it
Just walk the right path left right left it
They might catch up
Yeah wit a little luck
I see the most beautiful swan in the ugliest of duck
I am way ugly
Down to earth low like a rug see
One mind one heart
Never no one above see
Life is way lovely
Amongst friends and family
Bible say we brothers but we live in animosity
Quaran say hold a hand out the next
But the killers say allah strapped a bomb to their chest
Second class second best?
Only if you buy what they're sellin
I'm trippin no place to unpack round the world like magellan
But still-
One message, one soul, one will
Live your dreams chase em down just try
We only get one chance we live and then we die
So from the mire we must rise we must come unstuck
We must fly like beautiful swans for not one is an ugly duck
Its life live it well then grab a pen and start dumpin
Always keep the party jumpin
Always your eyes on the prize
Don't waste your time or your thoughts with petty talk and petty lies
Just sit back and analyze
Think about it for a minute
Because the only way to change the world
Is to change the people in it
When I rhyme its like a clinic
Cuz I'm sick up in the head
Ima product of the world i think about the shit I'm fed
Is he a fag is she a les? Is he a cracka or a nigga
The words mean nothin to me cuz a minds way bigger
Than a finger on the trigger
Or a hand that holds a sword
The world lives inside of all of us
Everyones a lord
Everyones alone
Everyones at home
We come from the earth every vessel every bone
So can't we get along?
Can't we sing this song?
Yes there's power one by one but the teams way strong
Love ur neighbor and your hater
Love your underestimator
Love the north pole's cold
Love the heat from the equator
Love the earthquaker
Love destroyers and the makers
Love quiet kid that's in the corner and the one who's on his best behavior
Love the bum that's in the streets
And love the meal about to eat
And love the gangstà rapper lookin for a mil to speak
A couple thousand just to come
A couple thousand all in ones
Love the momma workin on the pole
Love the churches and the nuns
U might love a boy u might love a girl
I might hate my insides but I still love the world
Elevate ur mind awhile above the world
Well not above the world
I'm talkin more about perspective
Its not about rockin the gucci hoppin out the lexus
No I'm not about the lexuses I'm all about my next a kin
I'm walkin next to u yes I'm a regular pedestrian
Knockin betta let me in I'm hangin by the front door
I got so much, give it back
But I then my heart looks out for more
Life is not a bore, no
And life is not a bitch
I gotta secret gotta tell ya
Tho I'm really not a snitch
I just gotta itch middle back I cant scratch
I'll be the gasoline and u can be the perfect match
Little seed little egg yes one day you will hatch
They will try to come and fight but
Never give in to attack
Start some love, end a fight
Roll it up and ignite
Now we blazin hot
Aint it amazin what
We can do together, come together the time we need
Is right now right here, get the picture?
I been workin by my lonesome but I aint nuttin 'less I'm wit cha
Me and u hold hands sing songs change the globe
Twist it up pop a bottle light ya like a strobe
That means I'm on and off
U got the keys u got the switch
So let me see it let me hear it u and me, yeah we gotta gift
I mean we gotta GIVE mi casa su casa
I am cool solo but wit chu way hotta
Tell ya sista ya brotha ya motha and ya fada
Free will is all of ours from da bum to tha docta
Yes I know that it might shock ya
But I do believe
We are all martin luthers
Kings wit one dream
Doing anything do it when we sing
We eatin from the same table what did you bring
I am a king young girl yous a queen
Don't listen to tha hatas jealousy neva sting
Unless you just let it fuck em forget it
Just walk the right path left right left it
They might catch up
Yeah wit a little luck
I see the most beautiful swan in the ugliest of duck
I am way ugly
Down to earth low like a rug see
One mind one heart
Never no one above see
Life is way lovely
Amongst friends and family
Bible say we brothers but we live in animosity
Quaran say hold a hand out the next
But the killers say allah strapped a bomb to their chest
Second class second best?
Only if you buy what they're sellin
I'm trippin no place to unpack round the world like magellan
But still-
One message, one soul, one will
Live your dreams chase em down just try
We only get one chance we live and then we die
So from the mire we must rise we must come unstuck
We must fly like beautiful swans for not one is an ugly duck
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Rap's Fun
raps fun. i like it cuz it lets ur brain scatter
i think it up, piss it out, no it really dont matter
u pissed off? i dont care, u gotta weak bladder
i am way above up ur level, climb my rap ladder
the mad hatter, im the pitcher u the batter
matter fact a mathematician, u are not an adder
im am happy u are sadder, ur world shattered
i am a rock star homie, call me mick jagger
im no actor, never eatin from a silver platter
tho i eat good every day, u just a brown bagger
ya like my swagger? i think u might be a fagger
but its cool, one love from earth all the way to saturn
i think it up, piss it out, no it really dont matter
u pissed off? i dont care, u gotta weak bladder
i am way above up ur level, climb my rap ladder
the mad hatter, im the pitcher u the batter
matter fact a mathematician, u are not an adder
im am happy u are sadder, ur world shattered
i am a rock star homie, call me mick jagger
im no actor, never eatin from a silver platter
tho i eat good every day, u just a brown bagger
ya like my swagger? i think u might be a fagger
but its cool, one love from earth all the way to saturn
bad to the bone blues
dun da da da dum, im baaad to the bone
dun da da da dum, lettin all my hoes roam
dun da da da dum, stop callin my phone
dun da da da dum, from a town to rome
dun da da da dum, betta leave me alone
dun da da da dum, cuz its time to go home
dun da da da dum, yeah before i liked ya
dun da da da dum, wit a face so delightful
dun da da da dum, peace lady wont write ya
dun da da da dum, think id rather red sight ya
dun da da da dum, and when i load this here rifle
dun da da da dum, adios bitch im psycho
BOOM
dun da da da dum, lettin all my hoes roam
dun da da da dum, stop callin my phone
dun da da da dum, from a town to rome
dun da da da dum, betta leave me alone
dun da da da dum, cuz its time to go home
dun da da da dum, yeah before i liked ya
dun da da da dum, wit a face so delightful
dun da da da dum, peace lady wont write ya
dun da da da dum, think id rather red sight ya
dun da da da dum, and when i load this here rifle
dun da da da dum, adios bitch im psycho
BOOM
Monday, April 6, 2009
ShadSpot
yes indeed you are right here in my Spot
ya bettaaa check ya neck cuz the block is hot
i ammm way sick so ya betta call tha doc
cuz i'mmm livin life high while ya fall like stock
im nooo papa doc i might lean n rock
im like a clock tick tock check tha G shock
like i said livin high sooo close to God
im the man M.V.P. of da whole squad
we way hard, they roll but we roll hotta
why botha, fuck u up n then ya fatha
i gotta lotta hoes flows plus im way smarta
good rides i am fly while u ride marta
now just holla, matter fact just follow
u cant see me dude cuz ya boy here's hollow
like kevin bacon was, in that one flick
i'm earthquakin cuz, 7 1 on tha rich
richter flick'd her after dick sir
im the love docta i keep elixir
a gxxxr like tha bike i am fastaaa
im the lord u a slave call me mastaaaa
lets get it
ya bettaaa check ya neck cuz the block is hot
i ammm way sick so ya betta call tha doc
cuz i'mmm livin life high while ya fall like stock
im nooo papa doc i might lean n rock
im like a clock tick tock check tha G shock
like i said livin high sooo close to God
im the man M.V.P. of da whole squad
we way hard, they roll but we roll hotta
why botha, fuck u up n then ya fatha
i gotta lotta hoes flows plus im way smarta
good rides i am fly while u ride marta
now just holla, matter fact just follow
u cant see me dude cuz ya boy here's hollow
like kevin bacon was, in that one flick
i'm earthquakin cuz, 7 1 on tha rich
richter flick'd her after dick sir
im the love docta i keep elixir
a gxxxr like tha bike i am fastaaa
im the lord u a slave call me mastaaaa
lets get it
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