End of My Love Affair

What it look like folk? It seems like its been a while since I posted. But in reality it hasn't even been a week. It beez that way I guess. This won't be a long one so I'm gonna get right to it. Shall we?

*cues The Masquerade is Over by David Porter*

Yeah folks. I gotta end this little love affair I've been having. Not because I should, not because I can't go on. But because it is proving to not be worth my time. I ain't gonna lie, I used to fiend for that thang. We would meet up once a week. Make it do what it do, I would be satified and spend the next 6 days fantasizing about the next visit. My nose was wide the fuck open.

I know what your thinking. What about Butterbear. Well she's cool with it. In fact she put me on to this one. We used to link up with the love affair together. It gave us something to talk about. It was exciting. But after our rendezvous last night I can tell she's not feeling it anymore either. We've been going through the motions for a couple of months now. The love affair probably hasn't even noticed. But I'm done.

Heroes, this is my goodbye. You haven't been treating me the same as when we first met. Lately you've been so self indulgent, complicated, and downright confusing. I don't know what you want from me anymore. I've looked past your idiosyncrasies for long enough. I waited for you during the writers strike. I excused your infidelity during the second season. Shit I even blamed myself. But what your doing now is too much. Sylar as a psuedo hero, partime villain? That's the best you have to give me!?!?! After all the bullshit you put me through. The wack as "fight" between Peter and Sylar to end Season 1? The way you've killed nikki/jessica 3 times just to bring her back as a new character? Hiro in fuedal Japan!!!! Yeah okay. I see how much I mean to you. that's why I've been faking it. Yup ever since Claire was kidnapped by the puppet master. Even when mohinder was basically turning into Seth Brundel from The Fly. So fuck you.

I will still check you out. But you no longer occupy my time the way you once did. Consider yourself demoted to jump off status. I bang with House on mondays primarily now. Deal with it. Step your game up and maybe we can discuss a promotion. Until then? Fall the fuck back.

I'm out

The High Price of Poo See

What it look like folk. Its ya man Steez here with an important message in these economic times. This is urgent for men and women a like. Consider this insider trading from the 925 Chronicles. Shall we?

A conversation I had with a female co worker of mine brought an overlooked item in this topsy turvy economy. We've all learned to manage how to get the most gas for our money. How to supply the appropriate amount of food for our family. And most of us have even found some wiggle room for our vices. But something they AREN'T saying is the sky rocketing, pocket busting price of poo see. We have a crisis that needs to be addressed.

I thought back after my conversation about approximately what my poo see bill is at this point. I consider with the college education I lost while in pursuit of this liability, the time I could have spent with my mind on getting some money, I have a poo see tab in the tens of thousands of dollars. Maybe approaching a hunnid large. Be clear, the TIME I spent is immeasurable in value...I can't even calculate the value of the hours I spent chasing and humping on chicks. It saddens me people. But I see that the price of poo see is on the rise at a speed faster than crude oil or gold. With stupid niggas(male and female) with nothing to talk about, no real tangible goods, and no real aspirations poo see is at an all time high. But this ain't the stock market. There is no chance of winning. Whatever time or energy you "invest" in this resource is gone. There is no return. There is no interest. So men think about it long and hard before you deposit anything into this firm. There are niggas SPENDING the rest of their lives in prison behind poo see. Be it that they tried to steal it or kill someone for it. Either way you LOSE. There are far more fruitful endevours with a higher payout. Poo see will be there...it shouldn't be your incentive though. Think of it as a benefit. Ya dig?

Now for women, the exact opposite is true. Your poo see is declining in value. The market is currently flooded with cheap poo see. So you have to come with something else. Similar to wendys selling chili and baked potatoes. You can get a burger anywhere. So even though dudes out here are willing to pay any price for it, it puts the owners under pressure to think of new and creative ways to manufacture, promote, package, and distribute the product. And you can't forget to look at it as such. Its not the key to the universe, its not the secret to keeping a man, its not the magical answer to all of lifes question. Its a product, something that people will pay for one way or another, be it with time, energy or actual currency. This does not make you a prostitute or a whore. Think of yourself as an entrepreneur. Manipulate the value of your product with the right advertisement and you'll be sure to profit.

Now onto the seriousness of the matter as it pertains to us as a people. Now this is more for my brothers and sisters, but all are welcome to keep reading. The effect of this fluctuating price of poo see is having on our collective psyche. Niggas going morally bankrupt trying to maintain their poo see lifestyle. I'm talking about women and men neglecting home responsibilities such as kids, mates, the home, to chase or distribute poo see. Everything you have will go into forclosure for REAL. It is not worth it, if you can't afford it, put it off until you can. Niggas is out here like modern day bucks. Don't have shit but a swingin dick. Done lost they're kids, good women, and most importantly respect. Chasin some shit that don't stop runnin. Cut it the fuck out. Let's grow up, invest our resources wisely and live like kings and queens. Aiiiight?!?!?!?!

I'm out

Shout to Tis, Rick, and Mel for helping me give birth to this concept.

Hurtlock 101

What it look like folk? Ya host Steez back @ cha with the Chronicles. Not much has been crackin with me since the last post. Some stupid muhfucka just set a dumpster on fire in back of my house. That has me a little pissed off. Some people are really assholes. But on to the blog at hand...shall we.

My ass is freshly kicked people. I just came from my first Brazilian Jiu Jitsu class and HOT DAMN!!!! That shit is no joke. I'm in pain pretty much from head to toe. Let me start off by saying that the gi we wear is heavy as a peacoat. So I started sweatin immediately. We went through warm ups so by the time we paired off I looked like Patrick Ewing in overtime. I paired off with a hispanic dude, his name was Henry if I remember correctly. He is on his way to a black belt. Very cool dude. I peeped him in the last class that I watched, very helpful to the more inexperienced students.

Todays lesson was escaping a headlock. First we practiced it as if you're standing and someone tried to grab you. This part was pretty easy to get down. A lot of work, and aside frome a grown ass man trying to put my head in a vice tight headlock not all that painful. Now when it was time for me to headlock him things got interesting. The end of the defense was a standing armbar that is meant to simultaneously dislocate the shoulder and hyperextend the elbow. Now, we aren't doing these moves to hurt the person. And the person receiving the move is instructed to tap out as soon as you feel pressure. So it didn't hurt THEN but my shoulder feels wild right now.

Next it was time for some groundwork. This is when things got put on proverbial steroids. Now I'm sure that every form of fighting is extremely intense. But you can pull a punch, kick, elbow, knee etc. But certain things are what they are. Now I'm 6'0" maybe 230 lbs. The guy I was paired with was more or less the same size. You can't "pull" that mass laying on top of you and squeezing your neck with a good deal of strength. Also the fear that grabs your body when you feel that grip tighten, and the air becoming scarce. I must say that if you're in that situation in real life, and you DON'T know martial arts, every instinct you have is pretty much wrong and only serve to make things worse/harder for you. So at this point not only am I fighting the mass of humanity on top of me, I'm fighting my own urges. I finally grasped the various ground techniques that we were showed.

Being that it was my first class I wasn't allowed to participate in open mat, which is basically timed, real speed practice of the lessons learned that day. I watched some of the more advanced students go at it, and I'm excited to know that I will be there one day.

So here I am, sore from my neck to my knees, with my shoulders, chest and quads screaming for good hot soak. And I can't wait to go back. My next class is Thursday. I had plans to go on Saturday too, but I have something else to do. Well folk, that's it for now. I'ma get at y'all later.

I'm out

My Night @ Gracie Philadelphia

What it look like folk? I wanted to put this up last night after leaving the jiu jitsu spot but between eating, talking to Butterbear, and losing my battle with exhaustion, here I am Friday morning. Its the first day of spring, though right now its 6:18am and spring won't officially start for about another 90 minutes. Its brisk as shit here in Philly, with a damn wet snow falling out of the sky. Lol Mother Nature is a mad scientist. But life goes on. And so do the Chronicles....shall we?

So I went to the Brazillian Jiu Jitsu spot to watch a class last night. Even though I wasn't participating I was a little nervous. Mostly because of the uncertainty of the situation. What if I went in there and there was some straight UFC ready mofos in there? I knew I was going to watch a beginners class, but still. Class started @ 7pm, I arrived @ 6:45(I live by the motto, "if you're on time, you're late"). I walked in and saw the pic you see above. Basically the entire school is the training mat with a makeshift walkway around half of it. The walkway leads to the back. I didn't go back there but I assume that the changing room, bathroom, and instructors office is back there. There was no real place for obvservers to watch(hint hint) just window sills on either side of the door. I sat next to a man on one. Almost immediatly a young man approached and asked if I was there to watch a class. I said yes and shook his hand. He told me that he would go get the instructor then disappeared into the back.

I sat and watched a group of middle aged white men stretching on the blue mat. The man next to me informed me that his son had missed his earlier class so was going to train with the adults tonight. His son was currently the only person on the mat younger than 30. As time went on more middle aged white men filed in and exchanged greetings. Then the closer it got to 7 the younger the people got that were coming in. This put me at a bit of ease for some reason. Then a young black guy walked in with a young hispanic guy, and I was at home. LOL. At about five after 7, an assistant instructor casually strolled out and ran through some light stretches with the students. Nothing formal at all as he joked around with another assistant while running through the workouts. The workouts weren't the typical sit up push up affair. It was a bunch of bizarre looking stretches and spastic movements. At this time the instructor strolled over to me. His name was Joe. A short middle aged white man. Very unassuming. He introduced himself and asked if I had ever taken jiu jitsu. I told him no. He replied "that's good". He told me he would be over to me periodically during the class to answer any questions I may have.

At this point he walked to the middle of the mat and began showing a technique he wanted the class to practice. So they paired off into couples and went at it. The class atmosphere was very relaxed and informal. With joe floating around watching everything and his assistants doing the same. The assistants being extremely hands on and jumping in and actually getting in and SHOWING the people what needs to be done. Every 15 minutes or so, joe would demonstrate a new technique then send the class to practice it. When he came back I had questions.

I asked about class and rank progression. He told me that like the Gracies that taught him HE decides when one is ready to advance. No tests, no tournaments. He told me that he focuses more on the self defense aspect than the competition. He said he teaches the art to where you can use it against any person in any situation, as the Gracies intended. Going on to say, that there are things illegal in UFC that a thug on the street doesn't care about. Made sense to me. It was at this point that I realized I would be signing up for this class. Something I noticed as I watched the men practicing techniques is that, oddly enough this martial art is more closely related to boxing. Which is wild because there are no strikes. But just the mindset. The second you relax, you can get seriously hurt. That can be said for all forms of fighting I suppose but having seen boxing matches, and various martial arts tournaments. THIS most closely resembles the level of alertness a boxer shows. The funny thing is, a lot of the moves are performed while not looking at your opponent. I noticed joe informing students to turn their heads away, and feel where the guys hands are. One of the guys in front of me even closed his eyes. Now this is extremely close quarters, in fact the guys where in most cases on top of one another. So this isn't some Bruce Lee vibe....lol

At 8:15 I shook hands with Joe and told him I would be in touch. As I pushed on the door, that was now dripping with condensation I escaped the oppresive heat of Gracie Philadelphia onto the cool air of Frankford ave. With a kid like smile on my face. The only thing standing between me and these classes is the $200 new member fee. Lord knows when I'm gonna have that...but fuck it, I will get it. I can't wait family.

I'm out

The Album That Changed My Life

"All day/with no nicotine/was the reason/I've been so mean/oh baby forgive/me for bein the DICK that I've been/to the children and you" Cody Chestnutt

In 2003 Butterbear purchased a bunch of shit off of Amazon. She treated me to a cd of my choice. I chose The Headphone Masterpiece by Cody Chestnutt. At the time I was somewhat of an incense burning, black power, hip hop head. So naturally my website of choice was okayplayer.com. Well in the fall of 2002 ?uestlove of the Roots(who posts on the site and is a moderator) was RAVING about this album. Sidenote: the Roots later remade a song off this album The Seed 2.0 and put it on their album Phrenology). Well I respected cool?uests musical prowess and decided to check this shit out. But it was not to be, unlike other artists he recommended I couldn't find this Chestnutt guy anywhere. So I went online. After months of searching I found the album and put it on my wishlist.

"I gotta hard dick wit a curve/that's all you deserve/ya betta go out and tell ya mama and ya friends/BITCH I'm broke!!!!!" Cody Chestnutt

After about a week of anticipation, a package wrapped in brown paper arrived. It had Butterbears name on it, but I knew it was for me. I called her and asked if she minded me opening it(hey I was a newlywed, I didn't know the rules). She said yes. I tore open the package to see the mysterious Mr Chestnutt scowling back at me. The look in his eyes sayin "you're gonna love this shit". To my surprise this shit was a double album. For 13 bucks? Can you say score!?!?!?! I popped the first disc into my discman and braced myself. Looking at song titles like Bitch I'm Broke, The Seed, Look Good in Leather etc. I didn't know what the fuck to expect.

Over the next hour and a half Cody floored me with his complex simplicity, raw language, heartfelt falsetto, and funky blues rock fusion. He somehow managed to shatter non existant expectations. Not of him or his product. But my views of what music, black music in partucular could be. Where it could take you. I was a rapper when I put that disc in. An artist when it finally stopped spinning.

The album let me know that there are no specific ways to express ones passions. It comes out how it comes out. This album gained Cody Chestnutt noterity. Not really fame, like I said he had a video with the Roots, and was in Dave Chappelles block party. But he faded away. Well in reality he bowed out. I read that he said he felt himself becoming something he didn't like. That resonated with me. I didn't know how or why until recently.

A lot of times we are lucky enough to find what we are meant to do. Too often we fuck it up trying to shape how we do it. A vessel doesn't get to choose its shape, or use for that matter. It is what the user wants and needs it to be. How many poets are out there trying to squeeze monumental ideas into 16 bars? How many brilliant artists are 30 still tagging walls? But with that I say, shout out to Cody Chestnutt and all the vessels like him, for allowing us to figure out what the are and how to use them.
"This kinda pain can shake a mans pride/and I can't deny/ that its shaken me" Cody Chesnutt

I'm out.

I'm training to become a cage fighter

Guess who's bizzack, back on the blog wit my foooooooooolk. What it look like? I'm back with some more of the Chronicles. I'm feelin pretty good. Even though daylight savings has caught and beat my ass. I have been literally dragging myself to work the past few days. Then, after being there maybe 45 minutes I start feeling like myself. Hopefully this shit works itself out by weeks end. Today will be a more mundane post than usual. I was debating on putting it up or not, but y'all are family so why the hell not? Shall we?

I'm ready to whoop some ass people. LOL. Nah, but for real after much thought, apprehension, and even doubt on my part I am most likely going to be taking up Brazilian Jiu Jitsu by the end of the month. I have always admired the martial art, ever since the first UFC where Royce Gracie went ape shit on all challengers of different disciplines and sizes. Dismantling them with a dazzling array of chokes and submission moves. It was pretty cool to watch.

Through my on again off again relationship with UFC I got to see Brazilian Jiu Jitsu evolve, as it wasn't just the Gracie family(the creators of the discipline) practicing it anymore. The one thing I always loved about it is that it isn't about speed and strength. Its more about skill and technique. For some reason, at this time I was still thinking that you had to actually GO to Brazil to learn it. Hey, I was young what can I say.

But a couple of years ago, while in the car with Butterbear, I scoped a place pretty close to my house that teaches Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Even better, the head instructor has been trained by members of the Gracie family. SCORE!!! So here I am gearing up to go check out this school tomorrow, I'm extremely excited. The classes are pretty cheap. I also need to do something active, I'm getting a little chubby in the middle. Even though I play basketball, I typically only do that a lot in the summer. I have become what I hated as a teen, a weekend warrior. So sad.....but now hopefully I found something fun and that can keep me active.

Also I've gone back to eating right. It has been a few weeks since I had some raw veggies. So I'm trying to stay on top of that too. Wish me luck.

Part of this is probably vanity, but mostly necessity. High blood pressure runs in my family and my back is FUCKED up. So carrying these extra pounds is extremely uncomfortable and potentially deadly. Also I wouldn't mind looking a little better for the misses. Though she denies it I don't think she likes the way I look. She accepts it, but I'm prolly a good 50 pounds from where I was when I met her. I don't see that glare in her eyes when I take off my clothes....oh well, I'm gonna try my best.

I'm out...

Check out the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu clips on the side

Steez's Hundreds

What it look like folk? I was just feelin like givin y'all a holler. So....shall we?

I'm riiiiiiich beyatch!!!!!!! Since I paid off me and Butterbears car insurance policy with the tax return, I find my pockets unusually chunky. After paying my car note this morning I realized that that was it for me this glorious payday. Tabernacle!!!! So here I am contemplating what exotic way I can blow a couple hunnid. LOL. Some polos I don't need? Made some weirdo sunglasses and ultra tight jeans? Don't worry fam, most likely I'm gonna gas up Baron Von Whippington(my 02 mercury mountaineer for those not in the know) and sit on the rest. But u know niggas...I ain't used to shit and might feel the urge to blow it on a few big scarves....nah but for real it feels great to have breathing room financially without cutting corners. Ya dig?

I'm out

A Date With Insecurity

What it look like folk. Its Steez back again to holla @ y'all. Just wanted to touch on something right quick. Man its a beautiful Friday here in Philly. Even though its kinda nippy outside. But whatever its pay day and I'm feelin good. So I won't bore you with the silly dilly, Shall we?

This post was birthed in my mind this morning on my way to work. When I'm on the train there is this group of men that seemingly work at a construction site or for a contracting company. Burly men with scruffy beards and the ever present fingernail grime. Some even have toolboxes/toolbelts and hard hats. I find myself envying them. Not for any other reason than I don't know how to fix shit. And prolly cause somewhere in the recesses of my mind, the part that television and american media has long occupied, they are what I think a man should be. I envision them going out building something, coming home to their wife who has cleaned the house and cooked dinner. I'm sure this is bullshit but hey...I'm not the only conditioned muhfucka out here.

Anyway, I'm not comparing myself to these men, I'm sure they look at me and maybe wish they didn't have to do manual labor and could sit on their ass at a computer all day. But they have something I want. I want to be able to fix some shit. Be it my house or my car. ANYTHING. One, because I'm tired of paying other people to do it, and two, I think its my job. Now I can put shit together, that's not a problem. But for instance, the toilet in my crib is fucked up, and I don't really know how to fix it. My wife teases me for not being good with my hands. Now I'm sure its mostly a joke, but I believe there is a measure of truth in it. And quite frankly I feel bad sometimes. I want to be able to do shit that I can't.

A large part of this is me growing up with no man around. My grandad was but he was old and he fell back. By the time my mom got with my stepdad I was 12. Being rebellious. My stepdad is good around the house. My mom always sent me to "help" him do stuff. Being that I didn't want to, my version of help was holding the various tools until he needed them. I never paid attention. I was gonna be rich enough to pay someone to do all that shit for me. LOL. Well here I am, not rich and unable to do light home repairs. I fucked up. I have a desire to learn a lot of shit, and in time I'm sure I will. But for now I feel quite helpless. Being cerebral don't count for much if you aren't profitting from it. And I think, who is gonna teach my sons?

There you have it. Your main square Steez, a smart guy that doesn't have the money to pay people to do shit that he doesn't have the know how to do himself...

I'm out

Me vs Them

What it look like good folk out there? I'm back kinda quick huh? I know, just tryna keep feedin y'all in hopes of expanding my readership(so spread the word...but read the post first). Yo I just copped this Ryan Leslie album. This joint is definitely official. He takes from a bunch of different successful formulas(John Legend, Pharrell, The Dream) and makes it work for him. Two square thumbs up. My youngest son finally stopped frontin on Butterbear and let her see him walk. Mind you he's been walkin for like a month and change. Lol. My car got some body damage I gotta pay for. I'm pissed. Also I feel like shit driving it...its all clean and sparkly and the rear bumper is on the gangsta lean. *cues Boots Riley* my car is better than yo shoes though. If you in the Philly area and know a good body shop holla @ me. Aiight now for the post. Shall we...

So me vs them. What an ominous title. But it was prompted by an experience I had on the train today. So I get on geekin about my new cd. I take my seat in the back behind these 2 black males probably in the 30-35 year old range. Both lookin rather thuggish but in that way that makes you think they are clearing decent bread from whatever hustle they are involved in. The one guy that I was directly behind paid me no mind as I flipped through my comic. The other seated across the aisle checked me out, probably more out of habit and respect for his trade than any real interest in me personally.

At this point I overhear the tall tales of a mutual friend of theirs named "Shiz". Apparently this Shiz character was a local maniac that has killed and robbed several people, and is currently serving life in the state pen for killing his babymama, along with a car full of other people(Philly residents will remember this story from last year). The story didn't bother me as much as how it was told. The guy that had just eyeballed me spoke of this psychos exploits in such a gushing manner. All except the killing of the baby and the babymom. Apperently this was wrong. Lol. I looked up and our eyes locked for a second time. My disgust dissolved into curiosity. His giddiness giving way to shame. The difference between us suddenly quite clear. I filled with fear. Not OF this man. But for him. For all of us. I sensed a degree of respect coming from him. Respect more for what I'm not than what I am.

The feeling wasn't mutual. I have friends that have been involved in street shit. I even have a homie that did a short bid. Short being an extremely subjective term, as I wasn't the one in prison. He has shared a lot of street tales with me. Unless it has to do with a fly girl he bagged, the stored are spit out of his mouth like sour milk. He's a changed man. Wants more from life than street glory and a long jail sentence. I respect THAT.

I make no bones about it. I'm a fuckin square. I'm not street in the least. I don't knock those that are, but that's just not me. I'm from the same gutters, seen the same shit. I chose to go left. Out of both fear and necessity. Someone has to represent the other side. I mean we can't all be Shiz. Ya dig?

I'm out.

The Death of the Dream

What it look like folk? Your square host Steez at your service. I've been having a good time since my last post for the most part. Watchmen was that shit I highly recommend it to y'all. Lots of sex and swinging penis but all together a good film. Uhhhh what else? Oh!!!! No gold star for any of y'all on guessing the identity of the man in the pic on the last blog. It was Ralph Lauren. But a silver star for southern gal, she knew it was a designer. I see ya guuuuuurrrrrl. I think that's it so we gonna get into it aiight? Shall we....

I am not a rapper. Nor am I an MC. This is the realization that I have come to over the past few months. I love hip hop and will never stop listening to it. But I'm done trying to PERFORM it. Not because I can't or even shouldn't. Its just not my passion anymore. Listen people, I used to DREAM in rhyme form. Now? I leave it to the muhfuckas that wanna put their time in and chase that. I'm done, I'm hanging up my mic.

It has been over a year since I really wrote a rhyme. The hip hop that ejaculated lyrics and fertalized my mind, giving birth to my dream is dead. Well, not dead, but definitely in a place where I could give less than a fuck about it. Somewhere in the dark corners of my mind keeping the sparse memories of my father company. Lil Wayne is the best rapper alive. Nas has more or less been banished to be a novelty since destroying Jay Z. Why the fuck would I want to be a participant in that world? Truth is, my reason for even wanting to was stupid to begin with. Maybe that's why I didn't make it. Maybe I subconsciously handicapped myself from the start....

I'll kick a rhyme that you can dream to/get seen through/livin proof/ that you could spit the truth/ and get cream too/just like a phoenix/risen out the ashes/flicked from hashish/between unsigned and classic/is where my mind clashes/and burns.....

Yeah that's some shit I spit like 5 years ago. When my stomach was full of fire. I could TASTE my record deal. I was gonna change the world with my rhymes. Uncover social injustice, rep Pittsburgh, impress the hip hop heads, and make the broads dance. All at the same time. I was the shit. I knew it. Nobody else did. So here I am. But fuck it.

But I ain't just quitting. I'm going to write more than ever. Its just not coming out lyrically. I've realized that my passion is writing. Not raps per say, but just using words to communicate thoughts and feeling. From this blog to other shit that I write. I will always write. Its all I really know how to do well. So I'm awake from one dream only to find myself lost in another. Life is wild like that I guess. So I will leave y'all with one of my rhymes. And close the book on that rap shit. This is an excerpt of what will most likely be the last rap I ever wrote. Enjoy.

Another year wasted/so close I can taste it/I can't stop/promised some dead folk I would make it/late to my date wit death/ cuz I ain't never say yes/and I believe on some levels/I'm afraid of success/people jumpin on my back/every time I rap/ sayin things like "you gotta put the burgh on the map"/I appreciate the love/ but I rock the way I rock/and if I put em on the map/ they'll just want a bigger dot/demand bigger and bigger/ till I can't deliver/ then I'm wack/ and they say I can't rep the Rivers....

I'm out.....

Randomocities

What it look like folk. Its Steez back wit the brand new L7 shit for y'all. Just got som shit I wanna talk about wit y'all. So let's get to it. Shall we....

First off, I got me a date!!!!! Date, Date, DATE!!!!! Got a date with my mate!!! LOL. That's right me and Butterbear are sneaking off today to be together. Gonna get our geek on and catch Watchmen. I hope this jawn is as good as the comic, which I have been reading this past week. Either way I get to be wit my lady so I guess it don't really matter huh? I'll be sure to let y'all know how the movie is.

Gold star for whoever can tell me who the man in the picture above is. Hint: niggas do whatever they can to see to it that he stays obscenely rich. Just this past weekend I saw niggas looking like hyenas trying to get a piece of what he is selling.

On to the meat and potatoes of this blog though. How bout the bitch that my brother supposedly had a baby by(she was preggers when he shipped out to Iraq) has been lying the whole time. Here is the story. Mind you I've been sitting on this because my bro reads the blog and this was not the way for him to find out. Well, she was knocked when he shipped out Nov 3rd. 2 weeks later my mom gets a text from the girls mom saying she was in a car accident and the baby might not make it. She gave birth that day. The baby was placed in icu as the girl was only 5 months at the time. So the situation was grim. Now over the past 4 months this bitch has kept shaky communication with both my mom and brother. Most cases when she contacted either one of them it was to ask for money. A little history, she was staying in a spot my bro was paying rent on. At first he was sending her money for the rent. Somehow the rent didn't get paid and the landlord was wondering when he could expect 4 months of rent. The bitch spent it. Lord knows on what.

Anywho back to wednesday. My mom calls me at work saying this bitch just text her and said the baby died. TEXT!!!!! Now I can be pretty naive when it comes to hustles and scams, but my FIRST thought was that this was all a lie. The more I thought about the past 4 months the more holes became evident. Like why wouldn't she give anyone the number to the hospital. Why wouldn't she give my bro the info to get the baby put on his insurance? Among a heap of other shit. Well my mom being the gumshoe she is contacted the Family Readiness people in the military and had THEM call her as nobody had been able to contact her in a month. Well she answered, music blaring, not with a hint of grief in her voice. Come to find out none of the Ronald McDonald houses in the San Antonio area where she was supposedly staying while the baby was in the hospital have any record of her. Lying bitch!!!

Its fucked up, my thought is that she lost the baby when she had the wreck. And lied this whole time, as this was supposedly the time when the baby was gonna come home. It makes me sad to know that a baby, my niece, has died but never really got the familial respect that the situation deserved. I wish much retribution in the form of pain on the sick bitch that did this to my brother and mom. Fuck her.

Everyday there is a new testament to how shitty this world is. Another kid murdered, or woman raped. I'm going to see the Watchmen. A movie about superheroes. But the world I live in doesn't have many decent PEOPLE let alone heroes. Talk about irony....

I'm out

What Happens When Atlas Shrugs?

What it look like folk? I just wanted to do a quick drop since I had some square biz on my mind. So I'ma get straight to it. Shall we?

I am Atlas. At least that's how it feels. I've heaped huge loads of responsibility on my shoulders. I guess that's why my back is in so much pain. I'm not here to bitch about my hardships though. It is what it is ya know? Its just that lately while atlas is keeping the proper distance between heaven and earth....nobody seems to notice. Or care. What I'm talking about is appreciation.

When Atlas shrugs the world gets pissed off because they aren't on their proper axis anymore...but they never bother to thank him when they are. Butterbear and I had a semi argument this morning because I neglected to leave my car key so she coul use my truck to take the chil'ren to school. A legit grievance on her part. Thing is when she alerted me of this I was already at work. Being that I take public transportation out here it was completely implausible for me to go all the way home to give her the key. I fucked up and I owned up to it. That was the best I could do in that instant.

I know a lot, as it pertains to my family rides on my shoulders. And to a certain degree I embrace the responsibility. But like Atlas who was condemned to hold the pillars in place, because he waged war on the Gods on behalf of the Titans, I don't get no fuckin reverance. Just the occasional painting, or remember when.

God damn....I feel like shrugging more often.