The Mis-Adventures of a Latchkey Kid

When I was coming up, primarily during my catholic school "Damn Sister Mary has a phat ass!" days, I was what you call a latch-key kid. My parents both worked demanding jobs and my siblings are both 10 and 11 years older than me respectfully, so when I got home from school I had three things waiting for me: 1)An empty house 2)A couple of T.V dinners, and 3)Shitloads of free time at my disposal.. Looking back I value all those hours spent alone because during that time I would write stories in my little notebook, something that could have been the spark that lit the flame that is the burning bag of shit that is this blog. I also valued that time because it gave an innocent young boy time to sift through my old man's closet, finding a few of his video tapes, and watching what I thought at the time to be pure street grade pornography.(Now that I'm older I understand that those porn tapes were the worst ever. Black chicks that looked like they just had given birth, the videos were always poorly lit, and the male stars in these tapes were always dudes who had their hair processed like they were the president of James Brown's fan club, looking like they had spent the better part of their day frying chicken somewhere. Sorry.)

But I really valued that time alone because I had the best babysitter a guy could ever have, the television. I would sit there for hours, watching reruns of shows that frankly I am embarrassed to even recall on this miserable blog. "The Andy Griffith Show", "I Leave it to Beaver", "I Love Lucy", "Hazel", "The Monkey's", if there was a rerun that never had a black person with a speaking part on it I was watching it. I was so enthralled in these shows, so into the story lines and the characters, I would imagine that I was involved in the show, day dreaming that I was interacting with the cast as if you could have found Humanity F Critic in the closing credits. I was young and innocent, so my daydreams was pretty tame to say the least. But I got to thinking, what if I took a page from my adolescence and inserted myself into television shows the way I used to?? I mean, forget about the innocent pre-teen, how about the 32 year old chubby pre-ejaculator who is trying to repeat as a blackweblogaward winner.(smile) Here's what my "daydreams" would look like today.

The A-Team:(This rag-tag bunch of ex-military commando's find themselves in an abandoned wherehouse, in a fierce gun battle with some local thugs not too happy that the A-Team is trying to put them out of business, for good. Each member of the team is shooting back, Hannibal, Faceman, Murdock, HumanityCritic, and B.A is.. well.. hiding)

HumanityCritic:(Ducking behind a crate, randomly shooting back): B.A, grow some testicles for once and get your non-acting ass out here. We need your help!!

B.A:(Pissing himself in a corner)No, I don't wanna, I'm scared!!

HumanityCritic: What!!(Raising momentarily to Shoot back)

Murdock:(In his Elvis voice) He said he's scared HumanityCritic.."Love me tender, love me true..."

HumanityCritic: I heard him you crazy fuck!!(Yelling at B.A) Hey, I thought B.A stood for "Bad Attitude", what gives??

B.A:(taking the thumb out of his mouth) That's a common misconception, B.A stands for "Bitch Ass"

Faceman: (ducking gunfire behind a crate, holding his head)Fellas, we don't have time for this now!!

Hannibal: That's right gentleman, just be patient and my plan will work itself out quite nicely.

HumanityCritic: What plan?? We are Vietnam fucking vets, being shot at by young men who probably listen to crunk music and couldn't complete a coherent sentence if you held a thesaurus to their collective heads.(shooting back at the bad guys, looking at his gun with a puzzled look on his face) My shooting is off, fuck, why can't I hit anybody today?

Hannibal:(Chuckles)

Faceman:(Chuckles)

B.A(emerging from a puddle of piss, chuckling)

HumanityCritic:(looking around) What in the fuck is so funny?

Hannibal:(shaking his head) Don't you watch the show?? We partake in a drawn out gun battle with the bad guys, thousands of rounds are spent with no one being shot, then the writers add some well placed explosions with us being victorious in the course of a half hour, then I say "I love it when a plan comes together!!" Closing fucking credits!

HumanityCritic: Fuck this!!(He empties his gun, reaches into the chewbacca-style belt with real bullets in it, and begins to re-load his gun)

Hannibal: What are you doing?? Your not going to..

HumanityCritic:(HC rises from his hidden state and begins to pick off neighborhood fucks one by one.) Take that motherfucker!!(as he shoots one) "Riverside motherfucker", that's a "Juice" reference!!(as he shoots another). "Buck-Buck-Buck take that with you on your way down!!", that's a Kool G Rap reference!!(as he blasts one more)

(The only thing left is the heavy gunsmoke in the air, gold chains and platinum teeth everywhere from the douche-bags HC shot, the smell of death and B.A's urine in the air, and HumanityCritic standing in the midst of all this with a shit eating grin on his face)

B.A:(getting up and hugging HC)

HumanityCritic:(pushing him off) Get the fuck off me, "Bitch Ass"

Hannibal:(About to put a cigar in his mouth) You know, I love it when a plan..

HumanityCritic:(pointing the gun at Hannibal) Finish that sentence and see what happens!

The Monkeys:(The scene starts off with Davey, Michael, Mickey, Peter, and HumanityCritic smoking some of the finest marijuana out of a hookah in a funkadelic room, surrounded by a bevvy of 1960's premo ass surrounding them)

HumanityCritic:(Exhaling a giant cloud of smoke, turning and looking at all the blog readers out there) You really think I'm going to write something witty with all this weed here, and all this fine 1960's "pre-aids, 'free-love like a motherfucker" ass surrounding me??(shooing y'all away) Go to the next show for Christs sake!! I'm about to kick these boy band fucks out of here so I can get my hump on..

"Leave it to Beaver"(We start off this episode with HumanityCritic, Wally's friend, knocking on the Cleaver's door one beautiful spring afternoon)

HumanityCritic:(Knocking on door)

Mr Cleaver:(opening door) HumanityCritic!! How are you doing today??

HumanityCritic: I'm doing fine sir, is Wally here??

Mr Cleaver: Sure, but give me some "dap" first, we're homeys right??(Attempts to give HC some awkward 'soul shake')

HumanityCritic:(pushes away his hand) Never do that again!!

Mr Cleaver: Take it easy home-slice, I'll get Wally.(Yells upstairs) Wally, HumanityCritic is here for you!!

Wally: (walking downstairs)Hey HC, did you come by so we could study for that History test we have tomorrow?

HumanityCritic:(smirking) Um, yeah, uh, History test!

Mr. Cleaver: Well you boys study, I have to go grocery shopping.

(The next scene HC and Wally are sitting in Wally's bedroom, with some books in front of them)

Wally: Ok HC, Mr. Smith said that our history test would be on chapters 6-9.

HumanityCritic: Wally, I could give a slippery fuck about some god-damned history test!!

Wally: Watch the language Mister!

HumanityCritic: Whatever.. Wally, what is up with that fine ass momma you got??

Wally: I don't understand.

HumanityCritic: You know, what's up with that?? What going on with her??(rubbing hands together)

Wally: Man negroes are weird, do you mean how she's doing?? Go downstairs and ask her, she's cooking and would be happy to chat with you.

HumanityCritic:(Shakes head based on Wally not knowing that he wanted to "wax" his moms ass like "Rain-dance", Ice Cube reference. He makes his way into the kitchen) Mrs. Cleaver, did I ever tell you how stunning you look with that apron on??

Mrs. Cleaver: Oh stop it, you are making me blush.

HumanityCritic: I'd like to make something else red as well.]

Mrs. Cleaver: What?

HumanityCritic: Nothing. Mrs. Cleaver, do you like me?

Mrs. Cleaver: Of course I do, as Negroes go..

HumanityCritic:(whispers to self) Oh shit..

Mrs. Cleaver: I mean, you are well mannered, and you speak so well for a colored boy, all the girls on my bridge club don't even believe that you exist!!

HumanityCritic:(sighs) Anyway, I know that Mr. Cleaver ain't hitting that right..

Mrs. Cleaver: My husband has never laid a hand on me, wait, he did smack me for saying that I'd love to suck Nat King Cole's cock, but besides that no violence.

HumanityCritic: No,(embracing Mrs Cleaver from behind while thrusting pelvis), I know he doesn't "hit" that shit right..

Mrs. Cleaver:(rolls eyes in utter lust) Ohhh HumanityCritic!!

(The next scene has Mr. Cleaver, Wally, and Theodore standing in the doorway watching HumanityCritic fill Mrs Cleaver out like an application while she's bent over some unbaked pastries)

HumanityCritic:(tapping ass) Who's a negro now??(thrust, thrust, smack on the ass) So I'm, articulate huh? How's this dick talking to you??(smack, thrust) This is for all those years you never had a black character on your show!(pound, pound)

Mr. Cleaver: Take your negro-cock out of my wife this instant!!

Wally: Ok, now I understand what you meant when you said that you wanted to "Break some Jim Crow laws with your moms".. I'm so stupid.

Theodore: I knew the black man myth was bullshit.

(HC and Mrs. Cleaver stop having sex)

HumanityCritic: Theodore, the myth is true, I'm just an exception to the rule. Mr. Cleaver, what can I say but,(pointing at Mrs. Cleavers genitalia) "Leave it to Beaver" like a motherfucker!!!