Bartender, Can I Get a Black Russian Please??(A Weird Night Out on the Town)

It's funny how so much can happen in the course of one night. A couple of weekends ago my friend Danny and I had went out for our normal drunken night out on the town. Trying to avoid all the bars that we have been to a million times, and mentally eliminating the ones that I am banned from for life, we decide to go to some drinking establishments that we hardly ever go to. First we go to a watering-hole named the "Red Star Bar", a very trendy bar located in what my city calls the "downtown of Virginia Beach." We sat down at the bar and had a few drinks, where Danny started to tell me too much information about his marriage. Right when I was about to tell him to change the topic, I notice a beautiful woman to my immediate left smiling at me, giving me a very sensuous look. I get hit on by attractive women at times, but since I have recently been getting hit on by women who look like Biz Markie, lets just say that I was physced. After minutes of her smiling at me, batting her eyes, proving to me that she wants me to talk about her on my blog, she approached me. She leans over, taps Danny's arm, and asks him "Do you think I can get a cigarette?" I wasn't phased, maybe that was her way of gathering up enough courage to come over, I thought her "around the way approach" was cute. Then she said, "I had to find a reason to come over and talk to you!" I smiled and pointed to my chest as to ask "Me?", she quickly shook her head and said "No, your boy!"

Wow, I felt foolish as this Gabrielle Union look-alike sat beside Danny and told him how much he "looked like Brad Pitt." I don't get jealous in these situations, or even "hate" as some people might say, but I immediately wanted to blurt out: "Hey Girl, he is married and has two kids. Not only that he listens to Rush Limbaugh and is a big George Bush supporter" I even thought about lying by saying, "He used to be a member of the clan, who burned over a thousand crosses in peoples yards. The only reason we are hanging out is so he can get used to hanging with non-whites!" I quickly snapped out of "hate" mode and sat there as she asked me questions, inviting me to her Danny "courting" session. Surprisingly, Danny immediately tells her that he is married which didn't really work since this beautiful girl, during the course of our time there, flashed him her tits a few times saying that his union with his wife didn't matter to her. Even though I like seeing breasts like every other scumbag of the male species, I knew we had to get out of there before Danny one day recalls a story about a "fine ass black girl that he fucked in front of a bar once." As we were leaving, and it was clear to her that Danny wasn't falling for her advances, she inquires about me and my relationship status. I have to admit, I got an immediate "chubby" just thinking about giving this girl the most premium 2 minutes of her life, but then I decided against it. It felt like being someones second choice when asked to the prom, or being picked for a basketball team solely because you are the only person left. I refused, but in total nerd fashion I gave her my blog address. So if she is reading this I have a message for her: "You have great breasts, and my boy looks nothing like Brad Pitt!"(He actually looks like a tattoo covered Edward Norton. She must of just seen "Fight Club" and got her actors confused)

From "Red Star" we go to this strip club called "L.A's" about 2 miles down the road. I know that I have talked negatively about strip clubs,(here and here) but after seeing a beautiful "pair", I was inspired to see even more lovely mounds of flesh. We walk in, have a few more drinks, and one thing becomes shockingly apparent. We noticed that the staff was mostly Russian, one of the bar tenders, one of the dancers, and 4 of the waitresses. I leaned over to my boy Danny and say, "Maybe I'm being stereotypical, but whenever I see a American owned bar and most of the staff is Russian, I tend to think some illegal slave trade shit is going on!" I guess I speak louder than I thought because the doorman(also Russian, which makes 7 by the way) comes over to me and politely asks me outside. I agree, and as we stand outside he tells me that he would appreciate it if I didn't say such things because he wouldn't want his clientele thinking the strip club wasn't on the "up and up." I say, "OK, whatever man" and as we return inside the club he pats my shoulder and says, "As long as we understand each other" which was his way of subtle intimidation. I sit beside Danny and loudly say, "Yep, I told you some illegal Russian mob shit was going on here!" as I wave at the doorman that I had just talked to.

Over the course of our time there I was giving many of my George Washington's to a beautiful sister who was on stage shaking her ass something fierce. She didn't say anything to me, but smiled when I kept saying stupid drunken shit like "I want to marry you girl!" or "Wanna be my future ex-girlfriend??" Minutes later after she stopped dancing she sat beside me at the bar. The first thing I said to her was, "What is up with all these Russian chicks?" She smiled and said, "I am Russian too!" I know that there are black Russians, but when you haven't experienced things first hand it can take you aback somewhat. We chatted a few minutes, where she expressed to me that she really wanted a boyfriend. She went on and on about her desire to have a boyfriend. Did I mention how much she wanted a boyfriend? As soon as I got the hint she handed me her number for me to call her as soon as I could.

As we were leaving, thinking about how I probably wasn't going to call "Ms. Black Russia", I also thought about how I once dated a stripper and how much of a disaster it was. Reasons: 1:You get tired of her paying everything from rent, meals, and her car note in 1's 2:If you are insecure, like I have been known to be, I would always be thinking that she was fucking somebody 3:If you have the balls enough to visit her while she is "working", you get sick watching her flirt with a plethora of losers just to get tips and 4:Getting glitter out of your linen is a motherfucker! The absolute deal breaker is when I caught her scratching herself in her nether region during the course of our conversation. I don't know about you, but a woman with a "vaginal itch" isn't really a selling point.

Escaping Death(Giving the Grim Reaper the Finger!)

The old saying that God looks after fools and babies is true in my case. You would think, for a guy that has escaped death as much as I have in life, that I would live my life more conservatively. One would think that I would spend a considerable amount of time watching my every step, savoring every breath of air that enters my lungs like it is the last. But the funny thing is the opposite effect happened. It actually made me more liberated to do and say things that I probably wouldn't have said in years past. Here are a few examples when I gave the grim reaper the finger.(If you have any examples, feel free to share them.)

Stairway To Hell: As the story was told to me by both of my parents, when we lived in Philadelphia I fell down a cemented flight of stairs. Apparently we had a basement that my mother made sure to always keep the door locked, and erect a baby gate in front of it to keep me from busting my ass. I guess either my mother had forgotten to lock the door, or someone else had and took down the gate, because I opened the door and went tumbling down 20 cement steps. My parents didn't agree on much as I remember, but the one thing that they did agree with was that my mother was going bat-shit when this happened. My father had to take control of the situation and took me to the hospital immediately. When the doctor examined me, he didn't believe that I had just fallen down 20 cement steps because I was barely bleeding, and I was giggling the whole time. My father wasn't a religious man, but after I had a clean bill of health he went to a local church, prayed, and thanked god for what he called a "miracle." To this day my mother attributes my "craziness" to the fact that "my black ass fell down those stairs, knocking some screws loose." Shit, she's probably right.

Lost at Sea: Looking back, my parents were kind of strict. Not strict like, "Your ass isn't leaving the house period", but in a "I don't know their parents, you aren't staying the night over there" kind of way. My friend named Tyrone invited me to go fishing with his father and about 4 of our mutual friends on a boat that Tyrone's father owned. I immediately asked my father if I could go and I remember hearing a resounding "No" sound come out of his mouth. His reasons were because he didn't trust Tyrone's father, I wasn't a strong enough swimmer, and because "He said so!" I sat in my room while my friends were having the time of their lives, silently cursing my father and wishing bad things on him. A day later I had found out that a couple of the boys had drowned because they had fallen off the back of the boat when Tyrone's father was trying to show off. When the remaining boys had alerted Tyrone's father, they were already like 200 yards away. They saved one of the boys, but the other drowned and wasn't found until 3 days later when his body washed up on shore. I have to give my father props though, he never said "See!" or flaunted his parental skills, he just gave me a hug as I cried over my dead friend.

No Backseat Love: I had a friend in High School named Carla who was a closeted lesbian. She knew that her parents would be against her lifestyle choice so she made it look like I was her boyfriend to ease any doubts that they might of had. I played along, even coming by occasionally to see her when I was in the area. The truth was, Carla had a girlfriend that she was deeply in love with named Julie, who posed as my sister whenever they would hang out.(In hindsight, I just don't see why they couldn't have acted like they were platonic girlfriends?..) Anyway, Carla and Julie wanted me to go to Bush Gardens with them because Carla's parents had found some "questionable" material in her room and they needed me for damage control, playing the boyfriend again. I don't know what I had planned that day, probably nothing important, but I declined their offer and told them to "have fun." They were pissed at me, begging me to go with them, even bribing me with money in order for me to go. I was persistent, I gave them a resounding "no" each time they asked. After uttering a vicious "Fuck you", they hung up the phone. A few days later I heard that on their way to Bush Gardens they had gotten into a bad accident, where their car had flipped over 3 or four times on the interstate. Luckily they survived, but their entire backseat area, where I most likely would have been sitting, was completely caved in. I can't say that I absolutely avoided death in that instance, but it makes you wonder though.

Guns ablazin': I have to admit, I've always been a asshole, but college was when I started to actually find my stride asshole-wise. I was dating this girl named Shelly, who had just gotten out of a relationship with her "crazed, drug dealing ex boyfriend." I had no idea if he was crazed, or even a drug dealer, but Shelly kept telling me that like it was some important information. Shit, i didn't care if her ex-boyfriend was John Gotti, as long as I was currently seeing her naked, that's all I cared about. She kept telling me that her ex was "looking for me" and that I should watch my back.(Watch out, some girls will get you killed. If he is your ex, who is crazy, why tell the dude my name or anything about me?? Exactly.) I finally met the ex in question when I was walking Shelly home and he tried get in my face.. He had a gun so I knew that I had to act fast, so stealing him in the face was my only option. While he was on the ground I grabbed his gun and threw it in the gutter, then the police came because Shelly had called them. The following days I had learned that the ex actually had killed people, and that my days were pretty much numbered. I should have been scared, I considered getting a gun myself, but I wasn't and I didn't. Her ex had found out that every Monday I went to a certain drinking spot like clockwork. For some reason I didn't go that night, but her ex went there looking for me, with about 5 other mean looking dudes ready to end my life. Apparently they meant business, as people to this day who were there always say, "You are one lucky son of a bitch!." A few days after the club incident my problem ended when a guy who Shelly's ex owed money to filled him up with more lead than a number 2 pencil.

Stray Bullet: This was definitely the craziest shit ever, and this situation wasn't caused by me or me being an asshole!(Go figure) I was visiting some friends in Atlanta when we decided to go to a club one Saturday night. The night was innocent enough, I met a few girls, got drunk off my ass, BUT I didn't have any confrontations with anybody. A couple of my friends were still in the club, another friend of mine is talking to a girl somewhere in the parking lot, and I am leaning against my homeboys car just drunkenly free-styling to myself. I see an argument break out between the bouncers and a gentlemen that they were throwing out of the club. I'm oblivious to it, and I just keep on enjoying my drunken haze. Then, I guess because I was bored, I started doing Karate moves, in a totally drunken fashion. Apparently at this time the man who had gotten thrown out went back to his car, pulled out a gun, and started shooting at the bouncers in front of the club. This was how drunk I was, I didn't hear the actual gunshots but I heard something whiz by me, and what seemed to be a sound like someone was punching the car I was standing by. Again I was oblivious, and my friends rushed over to me minutes later to see if i was OK. I looked and there seemed to be bullet holes on both sides of where I was actually standing. When I realized this, my buzz had vanished, and like a bitch my knees went weak and I collapsed. To this day, because I was mocking kung-fu moves while being shot at, they call me "Neo" because they claim I can dodge bullets. I still want to wet myself when I think about that incident.

Now THAT'S Rock and Roll!

When I think about some of the situations my band has been in all I can do is laugh. My band consists of five individuals including myself, and I am the only one that isn't married. I think that going in they thought that they would live vicariously through me, experiencing my lurid tales after a weekend of debauchery. They quickly found out that my love life has been about as exciting as a wake, and I feel like an utter disappointment in that department. But we have experienced some things together, here are just a few examples.

1. Impressing a Girl: If you have read my blog for any amount of time you know that I have a temper, somewhat. Well, this particular young lady that I was dating came to one of our shows one night. I planned on being on my best behavior, I didn't want her to figure out that I was a loudmouth, obnoxious asshole until after she had already succumbed to my charms. Anyway, she shows up and I give her a quick shout-out while I am on stage. She smiles from ear to ear, and I can just see the chances of me seeing her naked increasing by the second. Right after our 3rd song some asshole rudely shouts out a song request, which is usually met by some strong retaliatory words from yours truly, but because my date was there I didn't say a word back. My band-mates looked bewildered at my new found "restraint".

After our set I sat beside my date and had a pretty good conversation, until a young couple came to our table and expressed "how full of shit" I was, and that I would get killed talking about Bush where they were from like that. My hand actually started shaking, trying to put on a good face for this woman that I adored, and simply said "I see we have a difference of opinion. That's life I guess." I couldn't believe I was behaving myself so well that night. She told me that she really liked my band, and that she had to go because she had a "long day tomorrow." I kissed her on her cheek and told her I would call her later. As soon as she left I went on a verbal barrage like you wouldn't believe. I told the guy that requested "Stairway to Heaven" that he could kiss my black ass and that we were not a goddamn cover band. I told the young couple who approached my table earlier that they were pieces of fecal matter, and specifically told the man that I didn't appreciate him saying that I would get killed for my views, and that we could discuss it further outside. Right in the middle of my profanity laced diatribe my date had came back because she had forgotten her jacket and she had heard damn near everything. I guess I should go back to telling a woman that I'm an asshole on the first date, huh?

2. Where's my money??: Like any DJ, rapper, singer, or band knows, some club owners will go out of their way to stiff you out of your hard earned money. My band was promised money after one of our shows at a club we were performing at in Miami. The show went good, people liked our stuff, and everything went off without a hitch. When we went to get our money the owner tried to act like our fee was 150 dollars under the agreed upon fee. Then when we wouldn't accept it he refused to pay it at all. If this guy was in his 20's, 30', 40's, or early 50's, I would of just beaten it out of him but this guy was like 75. I think beating up the elderly goes on your record when you reach the pearly gates, so I'm wasn't doing that, I do have a moral barometer. We raised hell for about a half hour when the main act, a pretty famous group that we were opening up for, emerged out of nowhere to save the day. The lead singer of said group informed the owner that if he didn't pay us our money that his group wouldn't perform. Now THAT'S Rock and Roll! The owner quickly changed his tune and decided to give us what we were originally promised. I don't want to really say who the lead singer was but I will give you a big hint when I say, "Give it away, Give it away, Give it away now!".

3. Prince in the Building: Prince was performing in the same town that we were at a couple of years back, and rumor had it that he was stopping by the concert hall we were performing at. Not for us, but because that particular hall was special to Prince for some reason. Personally, I didn't think Prince was coming so I basically brushed it off and didn't really think about it. We started our show and everything was fine at first, until people started screaming that Prince had just entered the building. As we are in the middle of a song I look in the back of the establishment and I see people crowded around a person that resembled Mr. Purple Rain himself. I started to absolutely show my ass with long ass guitar solos, extra exuberant singing, acting like a dickhead just to impress the man I had been a fan of for more than 20 years. After the show I was excited to get Prince's opinion of my band and specifically my performance. When I reached the back of the club to meet one of my personal hero's I found a quite disturbing discovery. Prince wasn't Prince at all, it was a motherfucking impersonator! As I stood there, and people starred at me like I was nuttier than squirrel shit, I laughed for about 5 minutes straight.

4. Cover Band for a Night: One thing that I hate is when some miscellaneous asshole screams out a request like we are a fucking cover band. Usually, regardless if you are a man or a woman, you will get cursed the fuck out if you ask us to play "Stairway to Heaven" or any other song that is constantly requested. That is until a fateful night a few months ago. Listen, we are a black rock band so the amount of African Americans in attendance outside of our faithful fan-base is pretty slim to none. But this one night we were playing at a straight up "country and western, we love Toby Keith" bar. We started playing some of our songs and the crowd didn't boo, but they weren't digging our music either. Then, out of nowhere, I hear some lady say "Sing Sweet Home Alabama!". I was ready to lace whoever said that with a slew of profanities, probably an insult suggesting that her parents were siblings. I look at who saw it and it was a woman in her 30's, in a wheelchair, looking like she was sitting at deaths door. As I stood there speechless for about 20 seconds, the woman's girlfriend came up to the stage and told me in my ear that she was dying, and if I could play some songs for her.

So I grabbed the microphone, hopped off stage, and started talking to a woman who revealed herself to be named "Grace". Since the stage had a ramp, I wheeled Grace on stage and began to actually sing "Sweet Home Alabama". Come to think of it I sang most of her requests like Van Halen's "Hot for teacher", Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze", Led Zepplins "Stairway to Heaven", Guns and Roses "Sweet Child of mine"(I didn't realize that I knew that one), and various other songs. Grace had a great time and I am glad that I could provide her with some joy that night. Looking back, Grace is probably the only reason that we didn't get booed out of the building. Recently Grace came to one of our shows, looking healthy as ever. She asked me if I was disappointed that she didn't die, since I did something that I never did and played cover songs. I told her that I was just happy that she was alive and gave her a big hug.

5. Fuck the Police!: We were playing some small town in middle America around election time. My band played a pretty big club, where we performed our anti-establishment songs and called George Bush everything but the son of God that night. The crowd was great, showing us love through the entire process. After the show we load up the bus and begin to make that long trek back to Virginia. About a mile into it we see some flashing lights in the rear view so we pulled over to the side of the road. The cop walks up and I said, "Is there a problem officer?" The officer replies, "Yeah, you were speeding!" I said, "No we weren't! Listen, we are in a town with a population of 500 and a black population consisting of a guy named Kenny, trust me I was mindful of my speed." The cop orders me out of the car a immediately starts frisking me. As I have my hands against the bus the cop says, "I was doing security at the club you guys just played and I was appalled at how anti-American you assholes are." I replied, "That's what this is about?? Man, this is some bullshit!!" I had a dilemma because I wanted to talk shit, but I didn't want to put my band-mates in danger. As the cop talked shit about our band, as I stood against the car, I looked inside the bus at my bandmates and they gave me a look saying, "Do your thing HumanityCritic!" When the cop turned me around I said, " Fuck you pussy, you had no reason to stop us in the first place motherfucker!" I suddenly felt handcuffs being secured around my wrists and I was thrown in the back of a cop car. As we drove off I kept thinking that I wasn't going to make it, that he would shoot me and throw me in a ditch somewhere. So I talked shit the entire time, from saying everything from him having relations with sheep, his mother being a dime-store whore, and comparing him to a sanitary napkin. In the end it all turned out fine, especially since I have a good lawyer who even scares the shit out of me. But, that night, I thought that my blogging days were over.

HumanityCritic's Summer Cookout Tips

Every summer, I attend the random cookout where people simply don't follow the rules. People's main perception about one of these outdoor festivities would suggest that there aren't any rules, but they would be wrong, dead wrong. Here are some do's and don'ts concerning the beloved "Cookout".

1.Bring something you Savage! When I was a kid my father would regularly cookout and invite many of his friends. I would notice that 80% of the people who came through never brought anything. Not only did they not bring anything, but they would leave with two or three plates stacked with food. My father was oblivious to it, but I would always embarrass the people trying to take a shitload of food by saying, "Damn, take some food why don't you!" I think that a person should at least take a six pack of beer, you can't go wrong there. Also, I think that taking food home with you is only OK if the host of the cookout suggests it.

2. Drink in moderation: Like most people know, a cookout can last all day. Because of this, it would be smart to pace yourself when you first get to a cookout so that you won't embarrass yourself. This one time I got downright shitfaced where I punched a guy who had disrespected one of the ladies who was in attendance. When I punched him he fell over the grill where hotdogs and hamburgers went everywhere, and the hosts yard briefly caught on fire. Come to think about it, I might of punched him if I was sober.

3.Monitor the cook: I couldn't tell you how many times I have gone to a cookout and the cook was absolute horseshit. My friend Danny, who is a dear friend of mine, is the worst cooke known to man. For one thing, he severely under-cooks burgers to the point that they basically looked the same way they do in the supermarket. One time I grabbed one of his burgers, started to take a bite, but I decided to tear the mat in half. As I opened it it was red as a tomato. I turned to Danny and said, "Shit man, this burger is still grazing and mooing, I've heard of rare but this shit is ridiculous!" It is very important to trust the cook when going to a cookout.

4.Watch your conversation: Because you are in close proximity when you are at a cookout, everything you say will be overheard so be mindful of that. I had went to a Me'shell Ndegeocello concert around that time so I was telling a friend about it. Being that she is famously bi-sexual, the person who I was talking to asked me if there were a lot of lesbians in attendance. I didn't figure what I was about to say was homophobic, but I said that there were "more lesbians there than a WNBA All-Star game." A woman who was at the cookout quickly came up to me and informed me that not only was she in the WNBA, but she didn't appreciate my comments.

5.Germs, germs, and more germs: I have known to be a germaphobe, well, a sporadic one at best. For example, beware of things like potato chips in a bowl that is there for the entire cookout to snack on. Seems harmless right? Wrong. This one time I had actually seen a guy dig in his ass, dig in his nose, then proceed in taking a handful of potato chips. My black ass wasn't having chips that day, that's why when I have a function I provide individual bags of chips for people.

6. Pace yourself, romantically: This goes for males and females, don't attach yourself to the first pretty face you see. This one time I was talking to the first pretty face that gave me the time of day which turned out to be a big mistake. I was stuck in a conversation with her when a even prettier woman had walked in who was also giving me the "eye" as she wondered around the cookout. I tried to get out of the conversation I was involved in, but the woman did not get the hint. I tried to get up and walk around but her silly ass followed me like a housepet. It got to the point where I had to get old school on her and simply say, "Beat it! Scram!" It all turned out horribly when I quickly discovered that the pretty woman who had just entered the cookout was the roommate of the woman I was originally talking to.

7.Take it Easy: Just like a barbershop, you will hear the most asinine conversations in the world at a cookout. The key is to take everything with a grain of salt because the idiocy spewed there could drive you to homicidal acts. This one year I was attending a cookout where this guy was spouting some straight up crazy shit, political ideologies, and other random bullshit. He was pissing off the people at the cookout but because he was speaking so aggressively I think that people simply didn't want to get involved. I finally said, "Why don't you shut your ass up?" He quickly came over to me, got into a karate pose, and told me "I've been taking martial arts for 15 years, I will whup you boy!" I put down my burger, reached over, and grabbed a chair and hit him with it. As I kicked him while he was on the ground I thought about that James Brown line about someone knowing "Karate" but him knowing "Ca-razy". I can sometimes be crazy.

Blind Dates are Usually a Bad Thing

I don't know what it is, but my friends, or the girlfriends of my friends, always try to hook me up on blind dates, As much as I refuse, they always say, "But she is just like you, you two would look so perfect together!." Usually I know better, but I am so easily manipulated by their erection inducing descriptions of the woman in question, the next thing I know I find myself somewhere I thought I wouldn't be, on a blind date. Here are a few examples of Blind dates gone horribly wrong.

Scared Shitless: This particular date was orchestrated by a neighbor of mine named Marisol, who claimed that I needed a "good woman in my life." The plan was to meet this woman named Gloria at her house at 8:30 and take her out for a night on the town. I arrive there, ring the bell, and Gloria answers the door. As soon as the door swings open her beauty leaves me speechless, I even forgot my name for a brief moment. She tells me to wait in the living room for her as she finished getting ready. I probably didn't sit there for five minutes when her 3 brothers came in the room and sat all around me. This guy named Hector said, "You are taking my little sister out on a date? You better take care of her or we will kick your ass Homey!" The other brother named Luis stood in front of my face and said, "Do you know what I did to the last person that broke my sisters heart? They can't find that motherfucker now!" The third brother, the one that looked the toughest out of the previous two brothers,named Juan said, "What would you do if we started to beat your ass right now?" My brain to my Lips-"OK, don't say anything stupid, say whatever you can to avoid getting beat the fuck up" Lips to Juan-"I guess I would have to beat all three of you the fuck up, in your living room no less!" Brain to Lips-"Aww man!!" They proceeded to flash me their guns, and we talked shit back and forth for the next few moments. Gloria comes out and says, "HumanityCritic, are you ready to go?", which had to be the sweetest sound I had ever heard in my life. Hector told Gloria, as we were walking out, "Yeah, this guy is OK. Have a great time!" As we were walking out Gloria said, "I hope my brothers didn't scare you, they could be overprotective sometimes." I said, "They were alright, even though a few drops of pee did come out."

Kissing Cousins: This date in question was hooked up by one of my best friends, who met this woman in one of her classes. The woman's name was Jane and I was supposed to pick her up so we could have dinner, and we would freestyle the rest of the date. From the first time I saw her we kept saying to each other how familiar the other looked. We just knew that we had seen each other before but we couldn't figure out where. The date was marvelous, the deep conversation, the eye contact, there was a certain vibe between the two of us which was unmistakable. I remember us saying to each other how much we wanted to kiss, but for some reason we didn't. Then we were discussing where we were originally from. I told her that I was originally from Virginia, and that I had lived here most of my life. She proceeded to tell me that she was from Sumter, South Carolina, and that she had just moved from there a couple of months ago. I said, "My father is from that same town, what a coincidence. Matter of fact, I was there last summer for a family Reunion." She said, "I had a family reunion last summer also, that indeed is a coincidence." We both paused for a few moments and I blurted out, "You weren't at the "Critic" family reunion were you??" She dropped her head in disgust and said, "That's where I know you from. I think we are cousins." The only profound thing I could fix my lips to say was, "Ewwww, that's gross" Granted, we were probably something like 8th cousins or something, and the chances of our children having 4 eyes were slim, but the whole "cousin" thing killed the mood. The rest of the night we hung out, had a great time, but all the talk about "how much we wanted to kiss each other" was dead.

Black Republican: I am pretty sure that most people have what they call "Deal breakers" concerning who they date. I have a few: 1: Don't be a dumbass 2: Have a pretty good taste in music and movies 3: Good hygiene 4: Don't be a whore and 5: Don't be a republican That's simple enough right? OK, a friend of mine hooked me up with a woman named Julie who he said I would "absolutely adore". I pick Julie up and we go out for some dinner and a few drinks. The date started out innocent enough, both exchanging tales of our upbringing and talking about our parents. Then, like a slap in the face, Julie started blurting out some of the most vile drivel that could come out of ones mouth. For one thing she was talking about black people like she wasn't black, saying things like "Those people need to get their act together, living like savages!" I am pretty sure you could have parked a SUV in my mouth because of how shocked I was. Then she proceed in telling me that, "affirmative action was taking positions away from hard working white people who deserve it more than they do." This is coming from a 25 year old black woman, just remember that. Even though she talked about how much she liked giving mouthhugs, and you know I love that, I did what any self respecting black man would do in that situation. I got up and acted like i was going to the bathroom, slipped the waiter the money for our dinner, and left her bitter self hating ass there. Yeah it was wrong, yeah my friend was pissed at me, yeah the woman in question left nasty messages on my phone for weeks, but boy did that feel good though.

Jesus Freak: My friend Danny had knew a girl that was in a rock band that he liked, and he knew that we would hit it off. The girl's name was Deidre, and when I picked her up for our date she seemed cool as shit. As I drove she said that she had a surprise for me, and that she had our night planned out. Shit, I envisioned some Darling Nikki shit, where we would go back to her place where she would violate me 52 ways to Sunday. She directs me to this old building, so I park the car and we start to approach. As I open the door all I hear was screaming and moaning, immediately I think to myself, "This broad took me to a swingers club! Sweet!" My hopes and dreams of debauchery were quickly dismissed as I see a pulpit, a preacher, and about 40 people holding bibles. Not only did I walk in on a church service, but it seemed that I walked in on some David Koresh, branch Dividian shit. Laying hands on people, people passing out, convulsing like they were having a seizure. I thought that we were going on a date where I would tell a whole bunch of corny jokes, and maybe i would give her some unsatisfying sex later, I didn't sign up for this shit! I told her that I was "outta there", and as I was leaving the whole place started yelling "Sinner! Sinner! Save yourself! Sinner" I then turned around, flipped them the finger and said, "Fuck Yall!" I left there like it was a Klan meeting, racing towards Danny's house to curse him the fuck out.

HumanityCritic's Favorite Concert Moments

(I posted two lengthy entries today, yes, I can be a bit "wordy")

I know that music has been a running motif most of this week, but I guess I am so hungry for good music that it comes out through my writing. You can buy a recording artist's latest work, take it home and enjoy it thoroughly, but nothing beats going to see your favorite musical act perform live. Nothing beats standing beside true believers, people who have the same affection for that artist as you do, taking in every drumbeat as the crowd sways back and forth in unison. Not only is seeing the show a special occurrence, but the situations surrounding the concert are special as well. Here are a few of my most memorable concert experiences.

Run DMC(1985): Taking my father to a concert was as comfortable as a prison rape, or being potty trained at gunpoint. Even though we had our problems, and I feel that he really fucked me up, I still miss him dearly. Anyway, I begged him to take me to this concert for weeks until he surrendered and said "yes". We walk into the auditorium where Run DMC was playing and my father did nothing but bitch the entire time. "I should have never taken you to this god-damned show", or "What's up with all these bitches with those huge ass gold earrings on", or he'd say, "What's up with all these motherfuckers spinning on their head? Can't they dance like regular folk?" I kept saying to myself, "Would you shut the fuck up!!" He bitched the entire time, and when a teenager would accidentally bump him because of their dancing he would say, "Get the fuck off me you dirty motherfucker!!" This was turning out to be a disaster, until Run DMC came on. When they asked the entire crown to take one Adidas off and put it in the air, all you saw was a sea of shell-toes. As I put mine in the air, and my father saw how many people responded to Run's request, he just smiled and nodded in agreement. The next hour, as Run DMC played their set of songs, my father bopped his head alongside mine, not saying a word. As we left the concert he threw his arm around me and said, "Those young boys are alright. We have to go to another one of their shows!" If he was anyone else on the planet I would have said, "Fuck you!", but because he was my father I smiled and gave him a nod of agreement.

KRS-One(1990): It was labor day weekend, greekfest 1990. That's right, a year after the infamous riots that happened the previous year in my beloved city. Looking back I'm surprised that the city of Virginia Beach had any festivities at all, but they did, and they were super cautious throughout every specific aspect of that Labor Day weekend. There must have been a million cops there, and in order to see your favorite artist who was performing that weekend you had to be transported by bus to a "undisclosed location" somewhere in Bum-fuck. I was with my friend Ron when we went to see the legendary KRS-One perform. Suffice it to say that he put on an excellent show, performing all of his hits. But things went bad when KRS realized that Coke was sponsoring the event, so suddenly he began criticizing the company for long periods of time, even calling them "Drug Dealers".

I guess the people running the show didn't like KRS's criticisms, so they shut his mic off half way through his show. The great part about the show, and what made the concert so memorable, is that KRS sidestepped adversity and finished the show using a megaphone and a portable radio with instrumentals of his music on it. He was also surrounded by fans, so security couldn't forcibly remove him off of stage. When I look back, I feel that that is a classic Hip Hop moment.

Digable Planets(1993): Digable Planets were performing at a place called "The Boathouse" when they stopped at my city when they were on their tour. They put on a good show, I can't lie about that, but that wasn't the most memorable part of that night. After that show my cousin and I decided to grab something to eat at Hardees where about 20 people who were at the show were also getting something to eat. For some reason I started free-styling which immediately drew a crowd around me of many self described MC's. We all took turns busting rhymes, battling each other in the middle of a crowded Hardees restaurant. I guess we were putting on quite a show, because the staff there actually stopped working and came from behind the counter to listen in on our verbal sparring that night. Even the cop who probably patrolled that Hardees each night didn't give us shit and urged us to keep rhyming.

A Tribe Called Quest(1995): As far as I can remember, I have hardly been in the front row of any concert that I have ever attended. But somehow I was right in the front of this particular concert, and if I had to pee I was willing to pee under the stage on the down-low to avoid losing my spot. Tribe came on and they put on a magnificent show, I have never seen a group be on their game the way these three gentlemen were that night. To make the night even better, I was the guy that Q-Tip handed the mic to, to say certain parts of the song when he wanted to give some random audience member some "shine". He did it so much that I became arrogant, even motioning to him when I wanted to get on the mic, my cockiness made him giggle a few times. Also, they must of had MC Hammer on their mind because I distinctively remember Q-Tip constantly calling the Oakland rapper a "Pussy" and how he "didn't want it". I thought he was joking until I found out what the beef was actually about later on. I do admit that I have too much pride as a man to jock any artist, but at the same time I can admit when I am a fan of someone's music. That night, standing in front of a packed crowd, I was a fan.

Rage Against the Machine:(1999): One of the most intense shows that I have ever been to. The crowd was amped, wall to wall people, all there for one solitary purpose: To Rock! Zack De la Zocha came on stage he had a swagger about him that said, "I am going to blow you motherfuckers away tonight!" As he went through his anti-establishment play-list, it was like he was Jim Jones and everyone in the crowd was gladly drinking the Kool-Aid. The only problem with the concert was the slam dancing, let me explain: I love rock music, have been a fan for years, and I even have a band, but motherfuckers slamming into me without saying "sorry" might get your ass whipped. Beside that, the night was memorable based on the fans devotion and the energy and aggression that Zack exhibited on stage. I remember seeing my girlfriend after the show with bruises on my arm, and a extremely horse voice. She said, "You had a rough night huh?" I replied, "Yeah, and it was great!"

Some Random Reggae Concert(2001): For anyone that knows me can tell you, I hate Reggae: I know it seems inconceivable for a dread-locked black man to dislike Reggae, but I do. I don't hate stuff like Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, or Third World, I just hate Dancehall with a passion. I don't know what it is, but if you ever want to know what my Kryptonite is just play any random Dancehall song. I'm sorry, but that is the truth. I had went to a dancehall concert with a friend of mine because I didn't have anything better to do that night. My friend and I were getting extremely drunk on overpriced beer when this Jamaican woman sat right beside me. She informs me that she is fed up with her boyfriend, and she asks me, "If you had the chance to be with me what would you do?" I guess she expected me to say something rather generous, but I replied, "We would probably hump like two drugged up test bunnies, then I probably wouldn't call you again." Before she could express her disgust, her ex-boyfriend comes up and asks me "who the fuck" I am. I said something about "having my way with his girl", and other ignorant statements that antagonized him. When he told me that he had a gun in his car and would shoot me, not only did my friend leave my side, but I responded: "You won't do a damn thing Pussy. What's up with that flower shirt? I never knew that wearing your mother's tablecloth would be in fashion." The guy immediately took off for his car, and the girl sitting beside me must of liked the way I handled myself and we began making out. I did get her number, and saw her the following week, but I felt like a pussy when I took an alternate route to my car to avoid getting shot.

The Brenda Martinez Pool

When I was a kid, nothing was more liberating than riding on my skateboard. Shutting the world out, ignoring and even instigating authority figures, as the wind blows through your hair as you ride with your own signature style. Attacking the concrete jungle with a passion and ferociousness, a feeling that I constantly try to capture everyday. Like a heroin junkie who is always searching for the same feeling he had when he got that first high, that feeling as a teenager that I had is one that I felt, until recently, I would never recapture.

It was the summer of 1988, which is a pretty monumental summer for me because this is when I knew I would stop skateboarding and try to fit in as a jock amongst all the other high school lemmings. It's funny, I even knew what I was doing was the epitome of lame now that I think about it, but since being a skateboarder wasn't going to get me laid I had to make that tough decision. My crew, Danny, Will, Mike, D.A, and myself would try to skate anything possible. Handrails, supermarket curbs, concrete ditches, you name it we left our mark on it if it was within a five mile radius of our house.

But not only did our usual skate spots get extremely fucking boring to skate, but the cops harassed us so much that it was hard to shake them loose. We were at a virtual stand still. Yeah, we could have skated the local skate-park, but there were so many little kids with their goddamn parents there that it seemed totally out of the question to go there. Right in the middle of this predicament we were having, Danny was invited to this pool party that this girl named Brenda Martinez was having. Since Danny was invited, we were all invited, that's just how it was.

As Danny and four of his uninvited friends(including myself) bum-rush the party, the host of the party, Brenda, is going absolutely bat-shit. I know she was going bat-shit because she started yelling in Spanish, it's always a bad sign when someone abandons English to curse your ass out. As Danny is trying to explain to Brenda that we are his friends, she glances at me and asks, "What's your name?" I said, "HumanityCritic". She told Danny, "OK, yall can stay, but don't cause any fucking trouble!", then she walked away. Danny turned to me and said, "Dude, she likes you man!!", then nervously starts giggling and shaking me. I said, "No she doesn't, she doesn't like me!!" For some reason, my self esteem was in the crapper concerning woman around that time.

As we are devouring her food like we don't have any manners, home training, and haven't eaten in a month, I am standing over her pool just staring for minutes. I scroll slowly over the length of the pool, the pools wall, the lip of the pool, then a light bulb comes on inside my head: This pool is skateable! I point this out to Danny, and the other members of our crew and they become more excited than I am. When Danny asks Brenda if she would empty it so we could skate it I suddenly hear more Spanish, which isn't a good sign. Right in the middle of her telling us to basically "fuck off" Danny jokingly says, "What if HumanityCritic takes you on a date? Would you let us skate it then?" She pauses, looks at me, and simply says "OK"."What a minute! Don't you have to ask me if you are going to just pimp me out like that??", I said. Then Danny put his arm over my shoulder, and guided me to the pool and said, "Look at that pool man! Imagine all the cool shit we could do in that pool man! Plus, Brenda is cute, take one for the team bruh." I figured he was right and decided to indeed take one for the team.

I never knew that "taking one for the team" was being an absolute man-whore. Not only did I take Brenda on dates, I can recall certain episodes where we would come to her house to skate her pool, and she said she wouldn't let us skate until I came inside and "fucked" her. Nothing is more humiliating than coming out of her house, with skateboard in toe, and having Danny say, "Don't have this pool smelling like ass now!" Or when Will used to mockingly sing, "I'm just a Gigolo, everybody knows.." But that embarrassment quickly vanished when I started skating that pool. Riding it felt so effortless, carving each turn like my life depended on it, grinding while putting my hands behind my back showing off, catching air and making a mean face ala Tony Alva. That summer was the last time I would be "free" for a long time. Free from rules, free from caring about what people thought, free from my own self destruction. Just free.

That summer, that 81 day party of skateboarding nonstop ended with me quitting skateboarding to be one of the normal kids. Yes, quickly I realized that being a normal kid was absolute horseshit because being "normal" is so fucking uninteresting. I tried to go back to skating, back to my crew, but they felt that I abandoned them so it was never the same. Fast forward to June 2005, I am best friends with Danny, and I keep in contact with the rest of the guys as well. We all still skateboard somewhat, but I honestly haven't skated a pool since the Brenda Martinez pool, and I thought I would never skate any pool again. That's until Danny told me that he ran into Brenda Martinez herself.

Danny told me that Brenda had just got a divorce, just moved back to the area, and she is now living in her parents house which she bought. We looked at each other, smiled, and I said, "Danny, that was 16 years ago! My chubby black ass ain't skating shit!" He told me that she invited him to come to her pool and skate if he wanted to, and that he was going to skate it tomorrow. I told him to have fun and that I wasn't going to "break my neck in that god-damned pool!" That night I couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, occasionally glancing over at my skateboard. When I woke up I said to myself, "Fuck it", grabbed my board and headed to Brenda's house.

As I opened the gate I see Danny, Will, Mike, and D.A skating that pool like it was 1988. It was pretty emotional for me, not only because of the great times I had skating, but for the first time I felt that I was officially let back into the crew. Right before it was my turn to skate Brenda came out and said, "HumanityCritic, you haven't fucked me yet!!" We all busted out in uncontrollable laughter.(even though Brenda was wearing some little shirts. Shit. I wouldn't mind being a man-whore nowadays)

The old crew was back, a little older, a little wiser, a little fatter, but we were back. We reminisced a lot that day too. We reminisced about the skateboard contest I entered, where everyone else who was in the contest played punk rock music where I chose to play Run DMC's "King of Rock" during my skateboard run. We reminisced about the time that I got jumped and Danny tried to hit the guys who were beating my ass with a wiffle bat. Those were the days.

We skated the pool all day, taking each run seriously, like it was our last day on earth. I know that not too many 31 year old men can say this, but I felt like a 15 year old kid again. I was free. Free from rules, free from caring about what people thought, free from my own self destruction. Just free.

Damn, I wish I wrote that!

Even though I still find it hard to say words like "sorry" or "I was wrong", as I get older I find it easier to admit things more freely. One area where I feel free to express myself openly and honestly is when it comers to music. If someone writes something that I feel is a true literary accomplishment I won't be jealous, I will praise it and outright wish that I had written it. Here are a few examples of songs that I really wish that I had written.

Artist: Prince Song: Darling Nikki

Even though when I first heard this song as a kid I didn't comprehend everything going on in the song, I knew at a early age that whatever he was talking about was some freaky shit. The opening just says it all: "I knew a girl named Nikki I guess you could say she was a sex friend/ I met her in a hotel lobby masturbating with a magazine" That just set the tone, letting you know that this was going to be a tale about dirty sex with a girl named Nikki. I know this song isn't the most well written song that I could have picked, but the song is so upfront that you can visualize the events on the song in your head. Darling Nikki, to me, symbolizes every piece of questionable sex that you probably shouldn't have had. Not to mention, this is the main song that I loved to "bump uglies" to as a teenager. Who am I bullshitting, I still love to play it while having sex with somebody's daughter.

Artist: O.C Song: Times Up

I love this song with a absolute passion, besides this guy is truly one of the most underrated MC's ever. This song criticizes the phony "gangsta" image, and I'd be damn if this song isn't relevant today. When he opens up with the first line with "You lack the minerals and vitamins, irons and the niacins", you know that he is on some next level shit. Even though the entire song is a scathing attack on those who try to play the role of "fake gangsta" the two lines at the end of this song pretty much sums it up: "Non-conceptual, non-exceptional/ Everybody's either crime-related or sexual" Fucking classic man..

Artist: Stevie Wonder Song: As

This song, as beautifully as it is written, gives me some hope that true love really exists. "As" is a song where Stevie expresses how deep his love for someone is, even though I think that this song could be used for getting "new" sex as well. The opening line of the song goes like this, "As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving/And the rosebuds know to bloom in early May/Just as hate knows love's the cure/You can rest your mind assure/That I'll be loving you always." Now tell me some woman's drawers aren't coming off after that? Stevie doesn't stop there, later he says that he will love you "Until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky", he will love you "Until the ocean covers every mountain high". Stevie would have been an excellent pimp, just making women just do whatever he wanted. But the seasoning, ladies and gentlemen, is when Stevie said that he would love you "Until the day that 8x8x8 is 4"! When a brother has you fucking up simple arithmetic, he has surely put something on you.

Artist: Commodores Song: Brickhouse
Being that my best friend is a right-wing republican, who couldn't tell you a rap song if you held a oozy to his head, suffice it to say that I have been in many questionable bars that he has suggested. Regardless of the bar, whether it be a biker bar or some "Toby Keith, shit kicking achey breaky heart" style drinking establishment, there is one song that brings the races together. That song is "Brickhouse". I have actually seen a bar where the white people were disgusted at the Hip Hop that was being played, and some black people who were disgusted at the country music that was being played, but as soon as "Brickhouse" came on everyone gathered on the dance-floor like Martin Luther King was the DJ. I don't claim to be a big fan of the writing of this song, but the powers it possesses is something that I envy. I have also used this song to say wildly inappropriate things to random females that I don't know. This one girl had a skirt that was way too tight, and some of her butt cheeks were sticking out, so I said" Owww-she's a Brick-House/ She's mighty mighty, just lettin' it all hang out." For some reason she didn't find that amusing.

Artist: Public Enemy Song: Fight the Power

This by far isn't my favorite Public Enemy song, but it is the one that evoked the most emotion from me. I remember sitting in the theater watching Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing", and how excited I felt when you heard Chuck D belt out "Mother fuck him and John Wayne." Chuck was hip hop's true rock star, willing to give a huge middle finger to the establishment or anyone that had a problem with his band. At that time, for a 15 year old kid that was just coming into his own, this song definitely is a special one for me. But let me put the previous song lyric that I quoted in context. Elvis, famous for taking blues songs written by black blues artists and using them to become a popular recording artist, once said that black people were "only good for cleaning his house." So when Chuck D said, "Elvis was a hero to mostBut he never meant shit to me you see/Straight up racist that sucker was Simple and plain/Mother fuck him and John Wayne" it was definitely a memorable moment in Hip Hop.

Artist: Culture Club Song: Time

A commentor by the name of "Maya's Brother" quoted lyrics of this song in yesterday's comment section, and it just reminded me how much I liked this song and what it meant to me.(Thanks man) I was in a relationship for more than 5 years, and every time we would consider breaking up we decided against it because of the time that both of us had put into our "union". Looking back, we made a big mistake, because at the end we were totally different people who were making each other absolutely miserable. That is what makes Boy George's lyrics so poignant, when he says, "Because time won’t give me time/And time makes lovers feel/Like they’ve got something real" Preach, my androgynous British bother!!

Artist: Prince Song: Sign O' the Times

Yeah I know, another Prince song, what can I say I'm a fan. This is one of Prince's more political songs as he tackles subjects like Aids when he says, "In France a skinny manDied of a big disease with a little name/By chance his girlfriend came across a needle And soon she did the same". Prince always had the writing ability to say so much with so little words. For a guy like myself who can be as long winded as Ruben Studdard passing gas, this is a gift that I hopefully will one day embrace. In this song he covers social ills that plague our society, and simply says "Some say a man ain't happy, truly/Until a man truly dies" That's deep Prince, where is the part where the girl is "masturbating to a magazine"? Wrong song? My bad.. But my favorite part of the song is when Prince sings the following, "Sister killed her baby cuz she could afford 2 feed it/And we're sending people 2 the moon/In September my cousin tried reefer 4 the very first time/Now he's doing horse, it's June" You gotta love that.

Turn off that MotherF#%cking Radio!

The other morning I had to meet people concerning a writing gig I was offered, the problem was that the car ride to meet these gentlemen would be over an hour long. I hopped in my car and headed toward my destination. As I was driving, eating a sandwich, and rifling through my CD's(yes I am a multi-tasker) I come to the realization that I haven't heard the radio in a while. I actually sat there, knowing that the radio is 95% bullshit, trying to decide if I should give the public airways a chance and listen for a while. "Fuck it", I figured as I pressed the radio button on my CD player.

I turned to the most popular urban station in the city and the first thing I hear is a morning radio show, with a DJ that I respect. I respect him because he has been at that station for a long time, and I know that he loves "Real" Hip Hop. About 4 minutes into the show a sudden rush of sadness hits me, not because Rosario Dawson never returns my love letters, but because I realize that a good DJ who loves Hip Hop at its purest form is forced to play the most mindless drivel imaginable. Frustrated, I turn the channel to a popular local 80's pop station. Me, being a child of the 80's, have no qualms in expressing the fact that I know songs by Culture Club, Flock of Seagulls, Wham!, and Duran Duran verbatim. Suddenly Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell" comes on and I barely mouth the words to myself. The next thing I know I am screaming the lyrics as I sat in traffic, looking over and seeing two 30-something aged sisters looking at me like I had lost my damn mind. Usually, when a near-by driver catches me doing something that most people would find embarrassing(i.e Singing, picking my nose), instead of stopping what I am doing I turn to them and do exactly what they "caught" me doing in their direction. I guess a dreadlocked man singing a mid-80's rock hit is scary to other African Americans, so they rolled up their windows and looked forward.

I flip through the channels some more and briefly listen to the new Mariah Carey song. As I listen to it something ironic about it slapped me in the face. Does anybody find irony in the fact that her love interest in her video, an actor named Wentworth Miller, played in a movie called "The Human Stain" where he went his entire life denying he was black, passing off as white?(He was the Anthony Hopkins character as a young man)Is it just me or am I overanalyzing as usual? As I am thinking about Mariah Carey and the post where I ficticiously "dated her", I attempt to change lanes and almost hit a motorist in a brand new Lexus. Knowing it was my fault I motion as to say, "My bad" but the guy gives me the finger and starts talking absolute shit. I ignore him at first until he yells something about "beating my ass", then I pull up beside him and say something embarrassingly masculine like "You aren't built like that homey, Shut your fucking mouth!"

Road rage issues aside, I reach down and turn the channel to another urban station, this one not as popular as the first one I tried. Apparently Missy Elliot has a new song out, not to hate but doesn't all her shit sound the same? I mean, I know she is from my same area and I am truly proud of her success, but it seems that she has the same formula each album.(Dance track, subpar rapping, old school sample) I turn back to another urban station, and for some reason I sit through two wildly unimaginative R&B songs. What happened to R&B? Back in the day you had real men like Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, and Stevie Wonder belting out harmonious tunes to make women relieve themselves of any undergarments that they were wearing. Shit, even not so manly men like Prince and Rick James were acceptable because we all knew that they were going home with someone's girl after one of their concerts. Now, it is a bunch of whiny ass pretty boys talking about how they will "steal your girlfriend". I wish one of those newschool R&B clowns would approach my girl with that shit, my mouth would water like pavlov's dog right before I systematically beat the brakes off of them and snatch the gaudy ass jewelry off of their necks.

I am a few miles from my destination and I am frustrated for a few reasons. 1: I realize that I must be masochistic to listen to the radio knowing how much bullshit comes out of it. 2. Why won't Rosario return any of my letters? Do you think me sending her a lock of my hair was a bit much? 3. The men who I am meeting sure were kissing my ass over the phone. They claim they liked my blog and everything, but they sounded like car salesmen to me and that made me suddenly feel uncomfortable.

Driving around lost I let a few rap songs play without turning them off immediately, which makes piss poor navigation skills even a bigger burden. I suddenly get the bright idea to have t-shirts made up saying, "I don't give a fat baby's ass who Mike Jones is!!", I think that they would sell. I know that Hip Hop will never die, but could we just fake it's death and put her in a witness protection service so she could start over? I flip back and forth through the stations for the last time, and I finally figure out that most radio stations play the same 6 songs all day!! I'm not crazy, I swear, but I look down at my CD's and it was like they were speaking to me, saying, "You could have just played us man, and avoided all that foolishness." I start to answer them back, but my black ass has enough problems, I don't need to start talking to inanimate objects.

I reach the office of the two men who "like my writing so much" and I am greeted by their beautiful receptionist. At least I think she was beautiful, since my eyes were fixed on her cleavage that probably measured about a country mile. She went on and on about how she "liked my blog", and how "talented I am" so I thanked her for her kind words. I asked her, "Which post is your favorite?", then she gave me a blank stare and said "All of them!" Her ass didn't read my blog which just underlined the fact that these guys were trying to blow smoke up my ass. I was led into their office, and before they could get a word out I said, "Are you guys full of shit or what? I had to endure the horror of listening to the radio while driving in my car for an hour. Plus, you made your receptionist lie and say that she "liked my blog", you fuckers better be legit!" Nothing gets you more mad then when someone laughs at your impromptu rage. They said, "That is exactly the energy we want! We would love for you to write for us!"

For the next several moments I sat with them and talked about writing, my life, and other random topics. Things look good for my future writing venture, but if I make that long trek again you better believe that I will play nothing but CD's. Fuck the Radio!

Interesting People I know..

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine where she expressed disgust concerning all the weird people in her life. That got me thinking about all the strange but interesting people in my life. Instead of being disgusted, I am kind of intrigued at what makes these people tick. Instead of deleting these people from my life simply because of their idiosyncrasies, I'd rather keep these interesting people in my life, as long as I am out of harms way. Here are a few people in my life that walk to the beat of their own drummer, and that's a understatement. If you have any "interesting people" in your life, by all means comment on it.

Keith: Keith is a guy who was a surrogate older brother to all of my close friends when we were kids. We all looked up to Keith being that he was about 4 years older than us, and being that he was a professional skateboarder was the coolest thing in the world to my group of friends. He would show us tricks, and encourage us like most mentors do. Sounds like a touching, heartwarming story right? Not quite. Fast forward 17 years and Keith is basically the same guy, seriously. I see him in local bars occasionally and his main topic of conversation is skateboarding. I have tried to purposely shift the conversation to something totally different but someway it segues into skating. Talk about the weather, he says how nice it is to go skateboarding. Discuss politics, it somehow becomes a conversation on the politics of skateboarding and the police harassment of said skateboarders. Keith had a cookout at his house and when I arrived there he had a half-pipe(skateboard ramp) in his living room where we skated the majority of the time.(Granted, I skated it, was in a skate video that he was filming, and had a great time. That's beside the point) His passion is obsessive, but also it is kind of inspiring. To love something so much where a considerable amount of time is spent thinking about it is really the "love of your life".

Mitch: Mitch is a dude that I ran with as a teenager, certifiable crazy son of a bitch. Mitch was into magic, and he was a great pick-pocket. We used to hang out and go to the mall, and this motherfucker used to have at least 15 wallets on him that he had just lifted from some unsuspecting customer. Being that he was knee deep in criminality, it surprised me when he informed me that he was becoming a police officer a few years back. I thought maybe he had turned his life around and decided to be a law abiding officer, getting rid of the filth on my city's "mean streets". One conversation ruined that image completely, as I learned from Mitch that he had to be one of the the dirtiest cops in my city. He apparently takes bribes from certain drug dealers and he also looks the other way when it comes to prostitution. He has told me stories where he let a hooker go if she "serviced" him that night. I have warned him about his behavior, but when I do he kind of looks through me and gives me phony nods of agreement. Another interesting tidbit about Mitch: His cousin had gotten killed in a drug related incident and the suspect was still on the run. A week later the suspect was found in a alley, with 14 shots buried inside him. Not saying that Mitch did it, but it makes you wonder.

Lucy: Lucy is a Mexican American woman raised somewhere in California. She is beautiful, but by her demeanor and her rough mannerisms you can tell that she has had hard times in her life. Lucy was part of a girl gang in L.A where she has had several family members killed, and she has been in and out of prison. I can't tell you how many times Lucy has told me, while we were sitting at a bar, how it feels to "kill somebody". She is strictly a "bar friend", but her stories about death and gang life are kind of scary, but at the same time interesting. I made the mistake of giving her my number because how she stated that she didn't have many friends. Boy, was that a mistake. She would call me like 3 in the morning, drunk, talking about how fucked up her life was, crying and whatnot. I saw her and she told me that she was interested in me, but I turned her down simply by saying, "You have been in prison, been in a gang, and the other day you "drunk" called me. I'm not trying to be the "girl" in this relationship." She laughed, and about 5 minutes later she had pulled a knife on some chick that looked at her funny. That's my Lucy!

Jake: Jake is a Vietnam veteran on some bona fide "Rambo" shit. The guy has received several medals based on his heroism and his leadership during his time in battle. I have to admit, I want to be in good shape at 57 years old as he is, the guy is solid as a rock. I met John because he is a bounty hunter, and since the asshole who killed my boy Buddy is still out there somewhere I felt the need to get some assistance. I know I should contact Buddy's family, and that I am going about it the wrong way, but I just want to honor my dear friend because I feel he would do the same for me. When I first met John he was telling me about all this cool surveillance equipment, phone tapping tools, and his "top 10" ways he finds a "perp". He is so committed to his job that before physically I met him he had found out information on the guy that killed my friend, from his medical history, the name of his girlfriend and his close friends, and he put a running tap on his mother's phone. I was impressed. His commitment was impressive, obsessive but also impressive. We are becoming fast friends, and he digs my sense of humor, until I suggested that I should call him "Magnum P.I" and that he call me "T.C."(For all you Magnum P.I fans out there) I guess his humor stops at me comparing him to Tom Selleck, go figure. But the best part is that he said I could go with him when he picks that asshole up, so I will be documenting that whole ordeal on this blog. Stay tuned.

Dating Tips from a Guy who is monumentally bad at it.

You read the title correctly, it says "..from a guy who is monumentally bad at it", your eyes aren't deceiving you. I'll put it like this, there are plenty of dating experts who want to give you the "sure fire" steps to dating so you will be successfull. The problem with that is that those experts are usually very attractive, so attractive that they could walk up to somebody, goosestepping, and reading Adolf Hitlers "Mien Kampf" and still get a date. Those bastards aren't to be trusted, so why don't you look at your boy the HumanityCritic to give you some rogue-like advice. I figure that learning from my mistakes is the best way to gain the advantage in this rough dating world.

1. A Girls best friend: Even though a guy's best friend plays a integral part, it isn't the same as a girls best friend. A buddy can tell me "how much he doesn't like my girlfriend", and that "she is all wrong for me", but if her ass is good in bed, doesn't cheat, and makes a great sandwich, his stupid ass will get ignored with a quickness. It is my personal experience that women put more stock in their best friend's opinion than men do. When you meet the "best friend" just remember that you are basically auditioning, so act natural. If you ignore her friend completely then you will blow it. If you show her too much attention she will think you are phony, and you will still blow it. Also, be aware that everything you do will be monitored like you have been spied on by a security camera. Her silly ass will notice if you pay the bill or not, pull the chair for your date, interrupt alot, you name it her friend is checking it out.

Don't make my mistake: One time I was on a date where we were going to meet one of her friends. We get to the bar where her friend is at and we had a pretty good time, that is until the "friend" got drunk. She started telling me "how I wasn't right for her", and that "she could do better." I sat through that barrage for minutes, just excusing the fact that she was drunk. Then I couldn't take anymore and I think I called her a dirty whore, or something like that, and told her if she said another word that I was going to pour a pitcher of beer on her. Lets just say that that act of defiance didn't endear me to my date that night. In hindsight I should of just rode out the abuse for some effort-free sex from my date that night.

2. Eyes on the Prize: Maybe because I am observant, or I am looking out for some dude that I previously knocked out to even the score, but my eyes tend to wander whenever I am on a date. I really don't check out other chicks because I know how rude that is, but the woman I am with doesn't buy the whole "I am just observant" rant. Fellas, nothing will deny you a second date faster than a guy who can't keep his eyes from wandering around the room.

Don't make my mistake. I was out with a woman one time on a very nice date at a upscale restaurant. It was kind of uptight for my taste but I thought I would ignore my tree-hugging sensibilities and just enjoy myself. I remember laughing with my date about the people in attendance because of the way they acted. You had women wearing fur coats in the dead of summer, and they were laced with expensive jewelery like they were going to the academy awards or something. I never thought my eyes would wander to another woman that night, that is until this sister comes walking in with a tight red dress. I mean, you could see every dimension of her body, and dirty thoughts filled my mind. I guess my mouth was wide open, because my date had to not only call my name 4 times, but physically slap the shit out of me. For some reason, from that point on, we didn't laugh and joke the same way we were earlier that night.

3. Sex on the first date: Ladies, simply, don't do it. That is my advice to you. I know you want to be "I am woman hear me roar" and shit, but the simple fact is that if you gave it to me on the first night your status might get bumped down from "Wifey" to "Booty-call". I know, there are evil double standards out there but I guess that's life.(Hey, on average women live longer than men so stop bitching) Men, on the other hand, if a woman offers it on the first night, by all means get yourself a piece of patch. Listen, I had a friend tell me, "HC, she wanted to have sex the first night but I didn't want her to feel like a slut for giving it up on the first night." What the fuck? She already offered you the meal, just because your ass didn't eat doesn't mean that she didn't cook it.

Don't make my mistake(which I am still making): Assuming that a woman is as loose as Vanessa Del Rio's bed-springs just because she gave it up on the first night is foolish. OK, on average she probably is, but to generalize is always dangerous. I went out with a woman who was an artist, brilliant, and a lot of fun. We went out on our first date, and right after said date I was looking at the beautiful paintings she had painted on her ceiling, as she moaned between my intoxicated thrusts. I made the mistake of treating her like a glorified "booty-call" after that and she had so much more to give. Her words keep ringing in my head till this day, "I should have never fucked you on the first night!"

4. Try not to get shitfaced: If you are a alcoholic, try to keep that shit secret until the 5th date. Nothing will make your date more uneasy on a first date than a guy who is arguing with other patrons, and throwing up on her sexy new dress that she wore that night. I always tell people to drink whatever gets you "tipsy", not drunk. If 4 beers and 4 rum and cokes gets you pissy, then try to drink 3 beers and one rum and coke, you get the picture. Also, I have yet see anyone get more attractive when they are drunk, so think about that if you want to see the inside of her apartment later on.

Don't make my mistake: I have been in fights while I have been drunk, but for the most part I am a pretty happy and jovial drunk. I also like to talk alot, which was my ultimate downfall in the following situation. I was on a date with a particular young lady and I got shitfaced. So Shitfaced that I began telling her how my "ex-girlfriend was a bitch" and "how I cheated on her." Then I told her how she had "baby making hips" and that I wanted to give her a pearl necklace in the worst way.(Not the kind you get from your local jeweler) Let's just say that my number was taken off of her speed dial after that.

5. Fellas, Girls really do like assholes: Not all girls like assholes, and I know that the wonderful women who read my blog probably don't, but many women do. I don't even mean to say that "women like assholes" as it being a good thing, it is kind of sad actually. I speak from experience because I couldn't tell you how much women like the fact that I am a insufferable prick. I have actually told women to stay away from me, that I am a asshole, and that I might end up fucking their life up. The usual response is, "You're funny, here's my number." This one time I was with Danny and I was cursing out the bartender because of something he said to me. Moments later I realized that I had misunderstood him and was about to apologize, but this girl liked how I "handled myself" and wanted to know if I would call her. She just heard me call a grown man belittling names and she finds that attractive?? What the fuck?!! Ladies, if a guy tells you he is bad news it is probably good advice to listen to him.

Inside the Actors Studio

(Opening Credits begin, theme music playing while they show pictures of actors who have previously been on the show.)

(Camera pans in on a seated James Lipton)

James Lipton: Tonight Ladies and Gentlemen, in the first time in The Acting Schools History, we will be exploring the life and blog career of a young man named HumanityCritic. He has been blogging since September 2004, and in that time he has made people love him, hate him, and he has even gotten death threats. We at the acting school had to have him on, besides, he slid me a few bucks to be here so a little extra loot in a brother's pocket never hurt. I introduce to you, the HumanityCritic.

(Crowd applauds)

(HumanityCritic emerges from backstage, with both of his hands raised in the air for victory. The ladies in attendance start throwing underwear, which excited HC, but he freaks out when one particular pair lands on his face)

HumanityCritic: Eww Gross.(The next several minutes is spent with HumanityCritic wiping him self with handiwipes)

(HumanityCritic finally sits down)

James Lipton: What kind of pimp does that??

HumanityCritic: The kind that is a germaphobe, get on with questions jackass!

James Lipton: It says here that you were born in Hawaii on August 31st, 1973. You have two older siblings, both 10 and 11 years your senior. How was it being the youngest child?

HumanityCritic: I thought we were going to talk about my blog?? Ok, it was fine. I love my siblings dearly, but being the "little brother" can suck because you always struggle to get your voice to be heard. I think that one of the many reasons why I am so "in your face" is from that desire to be heard as a child.

James Lipton: Interesting..What does the song "Mr. Big Stuff" mean to you??

HumanityCritic: Hee-hee. My mother said when I was a baby that every time that Jean Knight song came on that I would start dancing around wildly, smiling from ear to ear. The embarrassing part is that to this day my mother will randomly hold my hands like a baby and scream out "Mista' Big Stuff, who do you think you are!! Mista Big Stuff." The main reason I don't think I will ever get married is because my mother said that she would do that in front of my future wife. She also said, by the way, that she will tell my future wife that I used to be a "titty baby"! Yep, I'm never getting married.

James Lipton: Damn, Freud would have a field day with you. I say that because in your blog you have expressed a certain affinity for titties and..

HumanityCritic: Lets move this shit along shall we!!

James Lipton: The next thing I wanted to ask you is..(a production assistant whispers something in Mr. Lipton's ear. He gets up, says "Excuse me", and leaves the stage momentarily)

(HumanityCritic grabs James Lipton's question sheet, begins scribbling something on it, and quickly sets it back down on the desk)

(James Lipton returns)

James Lipton: OK, my bad. Where were we?(looking down at his question sheet) HumanityCritic, how does it feel to have a twelve inch penis?? Hey!! This isn't one of my questions!!

HumanityCritic: Ha-ha Just giving you a little shit Jimmy baby!

James Lipton: It says here that after you were born your family moved to Philadelphia. Then, in 1979, where did your family move to??

HumanityCritic:(stands up out of his chair, pumps his fist and says) Virginia Beach, Virginia Baby, represent!!

(crowd erupts. All you see is 20-something acting students, taking off their sweaters to expose t-shirts saying "Virginia is for lover's" on them)

HumanityCritic: That's what I'm talking about!!

James Lipton: Will you sit your black ass down!! Jesus man.

HumanityCritic: OK, OK. Damn you are touchy today!

James Lipton: Lets get to your blog. On October 8th 2004, you wrote an interesting piece that not only involved politics but it also involved Hip hop culture. In it you had yourself challenging George Bush to a freestyle battle in front of the White House. That piece was called 'Live from the White House: Rap Battle: Bush vs. the HumanityCritic"

(crowd applauds, HumanityCritic smiles in acknowledgment)

James Lipton: Is it true that you got death threats in your email when you posted anything anti-Bush

HumanityCritic: Yes, that's true.

James Lipton: Wow! A very interesting piece that I liked was your April 20th post where you wrote a fictitious future account of your past love life entitled "HumanityCritic's tell all Autobiography(Circa 2033)" (crowd applauds) I mean, I wish that I could bend Mariah Carey over also.. I bet she tastes like pure heaven!

HumanityCritic: Hey-Hey!! That's too much goddamn information Jim!

Jams Lipton: Excuse me, I just want to give Mariah a serious mustache ride. Know what I mean Critic??

HumanityCritic: I get it, I get it. lets move on..

James Lipton: OK.. HumanityCritic is the first person that has been on this stage, that has had something that he published actually used in High Schools across America. This particular piece, on a personal level, is important because it stopped me from calling my black friends "Dawg" and asking them ignorant questions. This piece, written on May 25th, 2005 is entitled "A complete Idiots Guide to having a Black Friend"

(Crowd gives HC a standing ovation)

HumanityCritic: You guys liked that shit? If yall actually knew that I wrote that over a stripper named Cinnamon's house after a night of heavy drinking, while sitting in a sea of one dollar bills that she had made the previous night that were on her bed, you wouldn't be that impressed. But thank you all.

James Lipton: I have also noticed that a running theme in your blog is Hip Hop, is that correct?

HumanityCritic: You bet your sweet ass Jim.

James Lipton: You have talked about your favorite groups, favorite male MC's and Female MC'S, and the wackest MC'S. Your love for Hip Hop is inspiring.

HumanityCritic: Thanks..

James Lipton: This part of the show, is where I ask the guest 10 questions which originated from my hero Bernard Pivot. HumanityCritic, what is your favorite word?

HumanityCritic: Titties..

James Lipton: What is your least favorite word?

HumanityCritic: Shaq

James Lipton: What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

HumanityCritic: The small of a woman's back, hot dirty sex, or playing a Sade album

James Lipton: What turns you off?

HumanityCritic: That would have to be either racism, or women that don't give head.

James Lipton: What is your favorite curse word?

HumanityCritic: Unequivocally, it would have to be "Motherfucker!" (crowd laughs) Let me explain how I say it. I don't ever call someone "Muthafucka'" because I don't want them to ever think i was using it as a term of endearment. My black ass says "Motherfucker", "er" and all, so you know that I mean it in a negative way.

James Lipton: What sound or noise do you love?

HumanityCritic: A Pete Rock bassline, or a DJ premier beat. Oh, my mothers voice, I love her so much.

James Lipton: What sound or noise do you hate?

HumanityCritic: George Bush rambling, Bill O'Reilly being a douche.. I can't forget car horns!

James Lipton: What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

HumanityCritic: A lawyer, I would love to help people who couldn't afford proper counsel. Or a porn star, but I don't think people would be interested in 2 minute porn movies though.

James Lipton: What profession would you not like to do?

HumanityCritic: I would hate to be a entertainment reporter, or work at Entertainment Tonight. I mean, who gives a fuck about Britney being pregnant or who Tom Cruise is fucking? I don't give a shit! Or, I would hate to be the guy who mops up porn theaters. That shit is disgusting man.

James Lipton: If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

HumanityCritic: I think God would say, "HumanityCritic, when I made you I broke the mold son!! Hey, Aliyah and Left Eye have been waiting for you dude, and they are getting a little frisky.. If you know what I mean.."

James Lipton: We know exactly what you mean! HumanityCritic, your students..

(Next you see HumanityCritic seated in front of the students. They begin to ask him questions)

Female Student: Hello HumanityCritic. I'm not trying to be mean, but this month alone we had Jude Law, Johnny Depp, and Robert DeNiro come here. I don't understand why people are clapping, who gives a shit about your silly ass and your stupid blog?

HumanityCritic: Sit your ass down Harlot! Next Question.

Random female student: Yes HumanityCritic, I liked that Coffee-shop post by the way.

HumanityCritic: Thanks.

Random Female Student: Do you think that people who read your blog, will think that you are an arrogant asshole, because you have just had an entire fictitious post where you give praise to your own work? Don't you think you will look like a douchebag?

HumanityCritic:(stares off into space, then suddenly tears off his microphone and runs off stage)

(crowd applauds)

(closing credits)

Welcome Back Phil!

I forgot which comedy special it was, but Chris Rock was talking about the lack of legitimate black leaders we have today. He had suggested that black folks follow Pat Riley, because he has led more black men to the "promise-land" than anyone else.(Hinting at the amount of championships he won) It was a funny diatribe, but to be specific no other coach beside red Aurback has led more black men to the "promise-land" than Phil Jackson. Listen, if you read this blog for three seconds a few things come abundantly clear. 1.I love titties 2.I love Hip Hop 3. I am a Laker's fan 4. I am a Kobe Bryant apologist

Yesterday Phil Jackson returned to my LA Lakers after a tumultuous relationship with Kobe which caused his departure a year earlier. I am happy that Jackson is back, but I have no idea how Kobe and Phil can co-exist after Phil wrote a book basically calling Kobe the anti-Christ. Shit, beggars can't be choosers I guess, anything to make the Lakers better. When Shaq was asked if he could ever have a conversation with Kobe, Shaq gave the usual, monosyllabic inbred response. "Huh? Who's Kobe? That name doesn't sound familiar to me." Very mature big guy, it is good to get daily reminders of how much of a douchebag you are. Thanks.