Monday, November 27, 2006

Who Killed Hip Hop? On some "JFK" shit..

**HumanityCritic, investigating the assassination of Hip Hop, is told to meet an unknown man with some inside information on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.**(Yes, I'm playing the Kevin Costner character talking to Donald Sutherland, this might not make anysense to you if you've never seen the movie "JFK"**

(Scene opens with a shot of the Lincoln Memorial, panning back to see a nervous looking HumanityCritic holding an umbrella, wearing a raincoat and his vintage EPMD fisherman hat)

(An unknown man comes out of nowhere and approaches HumanityCritic)

Unknown man: Mr.Critic?


Unknown Man:(extending hand) I'm glad you were able to meet me, sorry for all the precautions..

HumanityCritic: Yeah, I figured that the information that you have for me must be of the juicy variety, why else would you have me drop my pants in front of your female staffers while they pointed, giggled, and said shit like "Wow, he's hung like a toddler!"?

Unknown man: Since you have what you yourself describe as a "black myth ruiner", we had to make sure it was you.

HumanityCritic: OK, how about those two guys who gave me that very aggressive prostate exam, was all that necessary??

Unknown Man: Those weren't my people..(looking bewildered) Dude, you let a couple of guys play with your butt-hole??

HumanityCritic:(cinching his rectum, holding his butt-cheeks) Shit!!

Unknown man: A very fitting expletive if I ever heard one..

HumanityCritic: Lets get past my prostate being used as a pinata, what do I call you, Mr..?

Unknown man: I could give you a false name but I won't, just call me "Mr. Snuffleupagus".

HumanityCritic: Huh? Why not Mr. X?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Simply because I have a thing for girls named Buffy and McRibb sandwiches, if you know what I mean..

HumanityCritic: OK, so you don't sling bean-pies in your spare time, but "Mr. Snuffleupagus"? Why not Big Bird? Why any children's characters at all? (Rapping to no one in particular) "I'm the unknown man so you don't really know me/In my rap book, I bend pages over like Mark Foley!!"

Mr. Snuffleupagus:
Fuck you, I'm no pedophile!!! That's the name I'm using because I'm big, brown, and I have chest hair so thick that you could put it in dreadlocks. Plus, you know how Snuffleupagus would only show up when Big Bird was by himself, making Big Bird's friends think that Snuffleupagus was a figment of his imagination? Well, I have that stealthy-secretive thing going on as well.

(taking a few steps back) You know entirely too much about children's programming..

(The two men start walking down the steps of the Lincoln Memorial)

HumanityCritic: Listen, I've already received some limp wristed threats and angry misspelled emails in all caps from Jim Jones, so if you are here to threaten me..

Mr. Snuffleupagus: I'm not with the Dipset sir!(making vomit sounds) I assume that if you have come this far, you know, having your cock laughed at and being fondled by two dudes, that what I have to say must interest you. I'm not going to tell you who I work for or what I do, but you're close! You're closer than you think!

HumanityCritic: So tell me, who killed Hip Hop??

Mr. Snuffleupagus: I'll get to that later, first let me give you my background. You see Mr. Critic, I once belonged to a secret organization..

HumanityCritic: What were they called?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: We were known as WHHAAC(Wrecking Hip Hop At All Cost).

HumanityCritic: It was a secret organization until now you blabber-mouth motherfucker, I thought you weren't going to tell me who you worked for? You aren't very good at this are you?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Give me a break will you, this is my first time being the "out of the shadows, mysterious man with inside info" guy..

HumanityCritic: OK, proceed..

Mr. Snuffleupagus:
The organization that I worked for was formed as soon as Hip Hop seeped into the public consciousness. In 1978, I was part of a team that spread propaganda about Hip Hop. When you were younger, did your parents ever say "Those Negroes aren't doing nothing but talking!!" when criticizing about Hip Hop?

HumanityCritic: Wait, that was you?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Yes, that was me. I was also behind people saying "Rap is Crap", but that's neither here nor there. Lets see, we're behind the song "Rico Suave", I personally wrote the treatment to MC Hammer's "Pumps in a Bump" video, one of our best agents was the one who talked Shaquille O'Neal into thinking he was a legitimate rapper, I don't think you know what you are getting into Mr. Critic!

HumanityCritic:(taking notes) I guess not, I didn't know wackness could be so organized.

Mr. Snuffleupagus:(snapping fingers in Critic's face) Wake up!! This shit is deeper and nastier than anything you could have ever imagined, that is unless you have ever been inside of Lil Kim. Lets see, in the 80's the organization that I once dedicated my life to was instrumental in the emergence of Me Phi Me, the girl group L'Trimm, that god awful "Rappin'" movie starring Mario Van Peebles, who do you think talked Neneh Cherry into picking up a microphone??

HumanityCritic:(looking up from writing on his notepad) Please tell me you didn't write "Buffalo Girls"!

Mr. Snuffleupagus:(Silence)

HumanityCritic:(throwing up his arms violently) OH SHIT!!(keels over in laughter)

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Listen asshole, what I'm trying to tell you is that no matter what we cooked up to destroy Hip Hop, the music was resilient, it always seemed immune to whatever toxins we pumped through it. I mean, Chris Webber rapping, all those fucking kid rap groups of the early 90's, The Young Black Teenagers, House Party 2..

HumanityCritic: .and 3!

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Right, and 3! DMX's 2nd album, Horrorcore, the many faces of "Mace", "Bout it Bout it", "Whoomp there it is!", Freedom Williams, that ugly ass "Snap"-I will attack, and you don't want that! motherfucker, a slew of shit that would take me literally years to break down. As the years wore on, I started to feel conflicted about what I was doing because, believe it or not, I started liking Hip Hop to be totally honest. Which, as you can imagine, made my job that more difficult.

HumanityCritic: So, what was the last straw? What made you quit WHHAAC?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: I was sleepwalking through my job for years, but when the "Black Eyed Peas" added that white chick, I finally felt that those motherfuckers had just gone too goddamned far!!

(The two men sit on a park bench with the Washington Monument visible in the distance)

Mr. Snuffleupagus:
I came to you today HumanityCritic because I feel that the assassination of Hip Hop, the way it was carried out, had to be by the people that I once worked for, WHHAAC.

HumanityCritic: You know the name of your old organization sounds like a covert group of chronic masturbators?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: If that was the case then your chubby black ass would be the president of said organization, what self respecting man masturbates to episodes of "The Golden Girls" anyway??

HumanityCritic:(looking around, whispering) How did you know about that??

Mr. Snuffleupagus: There isn't much I don't know about you, now stop interrupting.

(Mr. Snuffleupagus turns to HumanityCritic)

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Listen, as for the incidents surrounding the assassination, how do you explain accepted forms of Minstrelsy like that Chicken Noodle Soup Dance, or that god forsaken "Walk it out" song? How do you explain a group like 3-Six Mafia, a group that would otherwise be considered a shit-stain on the culture itself, getting an Oscar? "Snap Dancing" makes me long for the days of Jim Crow and fucking blackface.. How do you explain these gentlemen getting upset at Nas naming his album "Hip Hop is Dead" and not publicly getting their ass handed to them after when one of them says, unbelievably, "Why does everything always have to be about something!!" when talking about Hip Hop??

HumanityCritic: Hip Hop was primed to be taken out because we let our guard down..

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Exactly! Tell me how people who usually know better could sing the praises of Lil Wayne? Tell me how otherwise respected bloggers and Hip Hop scribes would even fix their mouths to say that Jim Jones is a relevant artist? Tell me how people are saying that Jim Jones won the battle against Jay-Z when at the end of the day, that guy is still Jim 'fucking' Jones! I mean, I don't care if he produced a lifetime supply of microphones out of his rectum he will always lose a battle against a guy who could rap circles around him. The Hyphy movement, DMX's and Keisha Cole's reality show, Young Jeezy, lil Scrappy, people treating lil Kim like Nelson Mandela when her dumb ass was released from prison. I won't even go into the Vh1 Hip Hop honors debacle..

HumanityCritic: I never realized that real Hip Hop was such a danger to the establishment. Is that why Hip Hop was killed?

Mr. Snuffleupagus: That's the real question isn't it, "Why?" The "How" and the "Who" are just scenery for the public like two lesbians who forget to close their blinds while putting one another on the business end of a strap-on that's the length of a baby's arm.. ClearChannel, B.E.T, the record executives, 3-Six Mafia.. Keeps em' guessing like some sort of shell game you would play with a dyslexic retard or something, it prevents them from asking the most important question. "Why?" (sticking out his ring finger) Why was Hip Hop killed? (sticking out his middle finger) Who benefited? (sticking out his index finger) Who has the power of covering it up??

(Mr. Snuffleupagus promptly gets up and walks away)

HumanityCritic: (yelling)Where in the fuck are you going?? What do I look like, Agatha Christie? I'm not Angela Lansberry out this motherfucker!!! Who killed Hip Hop!!?? To set the record straight, I only beat off to Rue McClanahan when watching "The Golden Girls" for your information!

Mr. Snuffleupagus:(now jogging, yelling back) I know, you stroke it while singing that "Thank you for being a friend.." theme-song!!

To Be Continued...

Behind the Scenes: Nas' "Illmatic"

This is a Behind the Scenes look at Nas' "Illmatic" right before the album was released. Man, you gotta love Youtube!!

Video of the Day: Pharoahe Monch: "The Light"

This is less of a "Video of the day" and more of a "I had no idea there was a video for this" of the day..

Hey HumanityCritic, what in the fuck are you doing with this in your ipod? Hall and Oates: "Private Eyes"

I'm not going to lie, me and Hall and Oates go back like asscracks and spinal cords. You can ask my mother, when I was a kid I would play Hall and Oates' "Private Eyes"(1981) album every morning for an entire school year while I waited for the school bus to pick me up.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Why are gang and pimp terms a part of my vernacular???

Let me be honest with you, I'm a 33 year old black male that was raised in the great city of Virginia Beach, Virginia. I told you that because even though I can handle myself in the fine art of fisticuffs and have put many men from rougher areas of the country on their collective backs, the only "hoods" I knew growing up were the parents of a childhood friend of mine that happened to be associated with the Klu Klux Klan. Even though West coast rappers taught me about Gang-life and how going to an area with the wrong colors might get your ass fucked up, the only "blood" I was accustomed to seeing was when it meant a girlfriend of mine wasn't pregnant. As for pimping, sure I have been known to date a slew of women at the same time, but I'm no ass entrepreneur based on all the money that I spent on the ladies in question, the insubordination that I allowed, and the fact that I would never put my hands on a woman. Shit man, every time I start to feel any pride about my town that is heavily republican, a city that proved that they want to bring back slavery based on their overwhelming support of George Allen, and is 16% African American, the Public Enemy song "Welcome To the Terrordome" comes on where Chuck rips my city a respective "new one".

Ok, now you know my background, which doesn't explain some of the things that come out of my mouth. I mean, I used to say things attributed to a pimp or a gang member as a joke amongst my friends, nothing brings people together like quoting lines from "Menace to Society" and "Pimp's Up Hoes down" I say. But the problem, like a "recreational" cocaine user who goes from snorting blow with models to blowing guys to maintain his habit, my usage of said terms has become so much of an addiction that they have infiltrated my every day vocabulary. No longer do I say these things as a joke, it comes out of my mouth with drop dead seriousness, and that is my problem. Here are a few examples.

"Twist that fool's cap backwards": I'm not sure what hood movie I got this from, probably "Menace To Society"(correct me if I'm wrong), but I'm sure it means assassinating a gentleman in the name of retaliation. At first I'd say it as a joke, if a friend told me about some guy at his job that is hassling him I'd say, "If I was you, I'd walk into Home Depot(his job) and grab a 2x4, or a shovel from isle 4 and twist that fool's cap backwards to let him know that you mean business!!" I was joking THEN, but I wasn't joking when a dude grabbed the ass of my friends girlfriend, when a dude aggressively bumped into a friend of mine without saying "excuse me", or when a man tried to take off with my cousin's coat at a local club, each time I screamed in utter seriousness "Yo, you better go over there an twist that fool's cap backwards!!!!" I was reminded of the silly phrase that has become part of my vocabulary when my friend said, "You are a chubby black guy from a Lilly white neighborhood, you're not "O-Dog" motherfucker!! Stop the "gang-speak" already!!"

"Sucker for love ass trick
": I feel that Ice Cube and I are kindred spirits, sure he has seen things that I haven't, but we are two black guys from middle class backgrounds who had both parents, who desperately want people to believe that we are bad asses. That being said I think I got the term "Sucker for love ass trick" from some random Cube song, a phrase that I have come to understand is when a man makes himself look like a complete jackass for the sake of some woman. For example, a friend I have known since High School named Walter is, like that song that gremlin "T-Pain" sings, in love with a stripper. Scratch that, "In love" would suggest that he has showered with her as she washed that dastardly stripper glitter off of her body or at least sniffed the panties, he has done neither. But for some reason he is always there when she dances, openly rejects when a guy says anything remotely sexual to her, and nods in agreement like a parkinsons ravaged bobble-head doll on crack as she says some of the stupidest things ever to pass through the lips of any woman that has been upside down on a pole. Like a cross-dressing funny-car driver, hanging with Walter around her has been quite the fucking drag, and he is, according to my love for 90's west coast Hip Hop, a "sucker for love ass trick".

"Reckless Eyeballing": Thanks to "Pimps up Hoes Down", the term "Reckless Eyeballing" has become a daily part of my speech pattern. Correct me if I'm wrong, but in the world of Pimps the term has to do with a prostitute who acknowledges another pimp via eye recognition, or some silly shit. Anyway, based on this seeming like a hell-worthy trespass in the world of Pimpdom akin to two guys fucking and eating meat on Friday, I've adopted the term in my everyday life. If some dude looks like he wants a piece of me like I'm an organ donor and shit, I'll usually walk over to him and say "Don't let your reckless eyeballing get you beat up in front of your girlfriend!!!" That's usually when he gives me a bewildered look, squints his eyes and says "Pimps up Hoes Down, right??", after that we both end up laughing like two schoolgirls. I did the same with this woman who was staring at me while she was with her boyfriend. The whole night she was looking in my direction, smiling, pumping her fists, I just knew she wanted me to climb on top of her at a later date and disappoint her like I've done to many others before her. So when I gave her my number as her man was in the bathroom she said, "I have a man, I don't want this!!", so when I asked her to explain her "Reckless eyeballing" she said, "We're at a sports bar and I'm looking at the basketball game on the screen above your head jackass!!"

"The County": Short for "county Jail", this is a term that I have used very liberally over the past few years. Granted, I've never been to a "let me check your prostate with me cock" prison, I've been to city jail a few times based on the sporadic habit I have of clotheslining black republicans and throat-Chopping Jim Jones fans. I'm not going to lie, based on my time in "the county" I started to feel that I had the makings of a Gangsta Rapper, based on my lengthy relationship in the penal system. All that was shattered a few years ago when I was at this house party a friend of mine was throwing and I was talking to her brother, a dude that had just been released from jail. As we drank and chatted I said, "Yeah, I heard you just got out. I know how you feel, I've done my fair time in "The county" as well!!" That's when he spewed a diatribe that still make my asscheecks tighten to this day, he said: "County?? What in the fuck are you talking about?? N*gga, I was in PRISON. A place were tough men are turned into bitches, a forcibly placed penis in the rectum will do that to you!! I had to deal with people putting glass in my food, I had to guard my sweet asshole like it was the White House and I was a secret service agent, I was so worried about getting shanked that I had to wear fucking phone books around my body!! County! County!! Are you shitting me??" That's when I placed my hands over my lips in the most feminine way possible and said, "Heavens!!"

Video of the Day: The D.O.C.: "Mind Blowin' "

HumanityCritic's Myspace "Find of the Week": Sha-Rock of Funky 4+1

Despite the fact that I'm the only member of a myspace group that I started entitled, "The Chubby Pre-Ejaculators Support Group", I really do love myspace. I mean, not only can you get reacquainted with booty call ass of years past and get them to come over for 7 minutes of unadulterated untamed passion, you can also do fun things like tell a band how much they sound like "constipated turkey's with instruments", and you can harass a specific ex-girlfriend who once left you for a guy who turned out to be a homosexual drug addict by leaving cryptic messages like "How's that working out exactly??!!" But the one thing that I love the most about myspace is how you can connect with artists that you respect immensely, especially artists who have been out of the limelight for a few years.

My "Find of the Week" is Sha-Rock of the legendary group "Funky Four plus One".(members include Keith Keith, Sha Rock, KK Rockwell , Rahiem ,Jazzy Jeff, and , Lil' Rodney Cee later on.) Listen, I know that people want to pull "Blondie" out of their ass whenever they get the opportunity to, but Sha-Rock was the first legitimate female MC that I ever heard, a woman that I feel was years ahead of her time. I think that before a female rapper is allowed to sign her record contract nowadays she should be forced to recite Sha-Rock's verse on "That's the Joint" and "Do you wanna rock" verbatim. Funky four plus one was formed in 1979, was obviously the first crew to have a female member, and was the first rap act to perform on Saturday Night Live. In this age of incompetent journalism where sub-par scribes try to get you to like the "Dipset" or have the nerve to put a couple of dead guys ahead of the pure lyricism of Rakim, Sha-Rock is definitely a legend who deserves the ultimate respect. Oh, by the way, she was my myspace friend before she was yours!!

Ouch!! Kwame Brown gives a guy a side order of testicles..

I hope my Lakers do something this year..

Boogie Nights: "You Got the Touch!!"/"Feel my Heat"

Maybe because I'm immature, still laughing when old people fall or whenever someone utters the word "boobies" and all, but whenever I see this clip from "Boogie Nights" I feel like a leper in a comedy club, laughing my motherfucking ass off. But women that I'm intimate with don't find it funny in the least, me screaming "You've got the touch" while she's "jerking my gerkin'", or me whispering "Feel, feel, feel my heat!!" in the ear of a woman while I'm with her biblicly, they don't share my comedic sensibilities. Fuck it, its still funny though.

Friday, November 17, 2006

"To Catch A Predator"..on some Hip Hop shit...

Narrator: Dateline has set up a house where an under-aged girl is supposed to be all alone, with a shitload of alcohol, and a mouth that she herself has categorized as one with the ability to "suck more black men dry than the U.S government." What we did was had the watchdog group F.L.A.G.A.S(Fucking Little Ass Girls Ain't Sexy) go online to various chat-rooms, posing as under-aged fans of Jim Jones, to see if they can lure some hapless pedophile with bad musical taste back to the crib to get the black beaten off of them. This week we have some celebrity assistance, "America's Next Top Model" Toccara will be the under-aged girl in the scenario. (Tocarra interrupting the Narration) Toccara: Heeeey!!!

(We our young girl, Toccara, leading an older man with a "Dipset" shirt on inside the house)

Young Girl:(waiving the guy in) Ohh, you are fine!! Come on in, I have some liquor waiting for us in the back!!

Sick Fuck:
I have some "lick her" ready too, if you know what I mean!!

(HumanityCritic emerges from around a corner)

HumanityCritic: No motherfucker, I don't know what you mean??!!!

Sick Fuck:(Looking nervous) Umm, what's going on here??

HumanityCritic: I don't know, you tell me?? Do you usually go to the houses of under-aged girls that you share the same deplorable Hip Hop tatses??

(This is when the man realizes what is going on)

Sick Fuck: Oh shit, I know what this is, I know who you are!!

HumanityCritic:(nodding head in approval) That's right motherfucker!!

Sick Fuck: You're the guy who always talks about pre-ejaculating, your pinky sized penis, and how your ex-girlfriend left you for a guy who was homeless!!! Oh Shit!! (extending hand) What's up man!!

HumanityCritic:(slapping hand away) No, No, No!! This show is where we get sick degenerates like you off the street!! See the camera's??!! (in my best Bill Duke, "Menace To Society" voice) You know you done fucked up, don't ya??

Sick Fuck: What are you talking about?? I didn't do anything wrong!!

HumanityCritic: We have the transcripts here buddy, where she tells you that she is 13 multiple times!! We've got you dead to rights you son of a bitch, what do you have to say for yourself??

Sick Fuck: That you shouldn't let celebrities be your bait when you are trying to catch pedophiles?

HumanityCritic: What do you mean??

Sick Fuck: It would have been one thing if old girl stayed anonymous and played a role, but she told me that her name was Tocara!!

HumanityCritic: So, I'm sure that many people share that same name. Shit, I've known 4 girls in my lifetime named "Africa", and???

Sick Fuck: Do those same people send you modelling pictures, ask you for advice when it comes to taking movie roles??

HumanityCritic: Umm..

Sick Fuck: Do they tell you about the great times they had when they were on "America's Next Top Model" and shit!!? Jesus Christ man, you didn't read the transcript did you??

HumanityCritic:(head down in shame) No..Goddamn Toccara!!!! Wait, what about her saying that she was 13??

Sick Fuck: Sure it was weird, but if me playing along with her weird game and listening to her irritating voice meant that I would get a chance to camp out between those meaty thighs of hers, I was all for it!! That reminds me, doesn't Tocarra remind you of a 2006 version of....

HumanityCritic: Jakee Harry on "227" and shit?

Sick Fuck: Exactly!!! Can I go now??

HumanityCritic: Not yet.(looking at the transcript) It says here that you are a Jim Jones fan..

Sick Fuck:(looking nervous) Um, no I'm not!

HumanityCritic: Yeah you did.(pointing at the transcript) You said right here, "Jim Jones is my favorite rapper right now, that "Ballin'" song is off the hook, no one can fuck with him on a lyrucal level!" It's all right here!!

Sick Fuck: NOW you want to look at the fucking transcript!!!

HumanityCritic: Yeah, we can't get you for being a pedophile today, but we can do our best to mame your ass for listening to extremely bad hip hop. Man, by saying that JIm Jones is the best lyricist out, you'll be lucky if you leave here breathing!!

(Luke Cage and selfrah emerge with baseball bats in their hands

Sick Fuck:(with a horrified look on his face) Ohhh shit!!

You really have to reconsider your choices when it comes to Hip Hop my friend.

(Luke Cage, Selfra, and HumanityCritic spend the next haf hour putting the poor young man on the business end of 3 Louisville Sluggers, with HumanityCritic occasionally screaming out..)

HumanityCritic: BAAAAALLIN'!!!!!!!!!!


Here is the Main reason I should never be an MC..

I have always admitted that I'm a strange guy, I like to lovingly eat Mac and Cheese off of the plump backside of a woman I might be dating, I've been known to hum the "Smurfs" theme song while ejaculating, and I've admitted that I have such a strong love for Janeane Garofalo that if I had the chance to date her I'd take her to a Nation of Islam meeting just to prove my undying love for her. All that being said, nothing can compete with my strong urge to write at least 3 rhymes a week. For some reason, like a ninja that is in perpetual training mode just in case shit pops off and he has to avenge his master or assasinate someone, I write battle rhymes in case I find myself on the business end of a lyrical challenge. Granted, my rhymes are pretty pathetic, especially for a guy who hates on sub-par Hip Hop so much, but its a habit that I've had for more than 20 years. Here is one of my rhymes, or more accurately, smoking gun evidence as to why I'm not an MC.

My rhymes are tighter than nun vagina or Eddie Murphy's outfit in "Delirious"/
I'm serious, you're flows are weaker than Lady Sovereign's when she's coming off her period/
I only date women with boyfriend's, but please don't hate me though/
Don't let a loving relationship get between you, me, and fellatio!!/
A musical butt-plug in the ass of Hip Hop wouldn't make all the shit stop/
Most rappers don't have enough soul for the game, like playing basketball in Flip-Flops/
I've forewarned this, like crack-babies I was born sick/
Don't let our personal issues come to a head like money shots in porn flicks..
I bring the drama like Russel Crowe causing telephone induced head trauma/
I'm down with terrorism, only when women give up their body's like suicide bombers/
When bloggers DON'T link me I think that's smoking gun proof/
That I don't need to strap dogs to rocket-ships for a brother to raise the roof/
MC's have more small talk than midget speeches, while I hold your style hostage/
You talk a good game but were never a player, like Bob Costas/
You lack verbal dexterity, with lyrics sloppier than a retard free-styling on Ecstasy/
Rappers never get the best of me, I kid you not like a hysterectomy's/

Video of the Day: Special Ed: "I Got it made"

Thursday, November 16, 2006

I'm HumanityCritic, the Hypocrite..

I laugh whenever I see some supposed Hip Hop journalist wax poetic, as if they had a smoking gun of Woodward and Bernstein "Deep Throat" proportions, as they lay out the many ways in which Krs-one is a hypocrite. Sure they have a valid argument, KRS preaching non-violence for most of his career and then contradicting himself based on statements he's made, song's he's put out, even physical altercation's he's either been a part of or threatened to be a part of. But I'm forced to ask, don't we all have this level of hypocrisy flowing through our veins? I mean, I know that brother Martin Luther King Jr. followed Mahatma Gandhi's lead with that whole "civil Disobedience" thing, but I'm sure people wouldn't fault the guy if he gave someone who disrespected sister Coretta an old fashioned Baptist ass whipping back in the day. I can see it now, Martin bouncing back and forth like a skilled boxer, saying shit like "I wasn't always a preacher!!" and with every jab yelling out "Lord, I know this isn't what you had in mind when you said turn the other cheek!!"(*whap*)

Even though I have always felt that we are all hypocrites in some fashion, I have come to grips with the fact that I'm one of the worst offenders of all time. Here are a few examples:

On Ignorant behavior:

The Flip: Whenever I'm with my conscious friends and we see a fight break out at a club somewhere, usually one that was started by one of the men asking "what are you looking at??" - I tend to get on my high horse and dismiss it as simple "buffoonery". Seriously, it's like I put on one of those dreadful Cosby sweaters and actually become the most famous Jello-O pudding peddler ever, breaking down the ills of the black community and how the "young black male" is in serious trouble. During these diatribes I tend to wax poetic about the "Glory Days" in which I was raised, when people didn't find the need to shoot each other needlessly - where a fist fight didn't result in gun violence. Matter of fact, I think that I go as far as to call the young people of today "peasants" on some Slick Rick shit..

The Flop: Wait a minute, when you came up didn't people shoot each other for their bubble goose Jackets and Jordan's motherfucker? Man, fuck you!! Matter of fact, who was the guy who got out of his car with bat in hand, in the middle of wall to wall traffic by the way, just because some young man looked at you longer than you had liked? That was you!! Who was the guy as recent as a few months ago, threatened to punch a man repeatedly because it was his opinion that Tupac was a better lyricist than Rakim?? Who in the fuck does that exactly? You once chocked a guy for criticizing Kobe, followed a guy 20 miles to his house who cut you off in traffic, told a woman in the grocery store that if she didn't stop her yapping that you would beat up her boyfriend as a punishment. The list of your offenses is just too long scooter..

On Having some tact:

The Flip: I swore that I would never be like my father, based on the fact that he would say anything that came to his mind. If a woman that he knew gained weight, he'd make a comment about her renting space at a buffet, if one of his friends had a girlfriend that left him, he would go into specific detail about the new paths that her new boyfriend was making in her vagina. I know I was like that, but over the past year or so I have done a pretty good job when it comes to keeping my comments to myself. I've come to realize that people have feelings, and I in no way want to be the one that makes them feel bad in any way.

The Flop: What did you tell a woman the other day that claimed she had never given a man fellatio? As I remember you pointed to what you thought were stretch-marks around her mouth, told her that her body was screaming "sperm receptacle", and said that any woman with a giraffe neck like that has had more cocks in her than a chicken coop. You gotta love that "tact"! How about that midget you were talking to the other day? When he was proudly showing you pictures of his children, you looked him up and down and said "Hey, you really are a baby-daddy! Get it, "baby" daddy!!!" How about that 21 year old chick you were intimate with recently, based on her age after having sex you telling her "Umm, is this the part where I tuck you in and read you a story?" What kind of shit is that? Oh, dude, I don't care how great an experience you make it sound, using the pick-up line "Hey, how would you like to come to my crib, give me a mouth-hug and leave immediately!!??" will never work for you.

On Strippers:

The Flip: It's no secret that I love titties. I mean, all a woman has to do to either get me to shut the fuck up, give her some money, or coerce me to take someones life - is just flash me her dirty pillows for at least 10 seconds. It's true that I've had a love affair with strippers for the longest time, but that "love affair" has been over for some time now. I've finally seen the light, no more will I be teased by women who wouldn't fuck me if I had the last cock on earth, no more will I hand out my well earned dollars for sub-par gyration, no more will I sit through the stories that strippers give you about "doing this for college money" and other intended falsehoods. I'm older, wiser, and I've realized that angrily beating off to the memory of a stripper name "Alize" is sad, even for me.

The Flop: Who and I kidding, the only light I've seen is the one shining on the well manicured backyard of a caucasian pork eater by the name of "Cadillac". Listen, I know it's a scam, but when you are a scumbag like me who hasn't had a decent piece of ass since the third season of "Seinfeld", I take tits any way that I can get them. I find myself hanging on every word of a stripper who tells me her "I'm doing this for college money" story like she's giving a presidential address, and I do find myself openly wondering if I have a chance of pre-ejaculating with the "new girl". I guess strip clubs are like my crack, no matter how much I'm aware that it makes my pocket skinny and is detrimental to my health, I keep coming back for more.

On Casual Sex:

The Flip: "When it comes to sex, I'm similar.." to that popular television character named "Monk" to be totally honest. I'm serious, I can see my 30 AIDS tests being justified if I partook in the most deviant forms of sex imaginable, but many of those tests were conducted when my nuts hadn't been fondled for months. I'm scary like that, if a chick coughs before we have sex I'm just not fucking her, if she tells one too many "and this one guy I dated" stories I'm just not fucking her, shit, I've been known to grab my clothes and run out of the house if the woman in question doesn't smell her best in certain "undisclosed" areas.(Sometimes I run out of my own house, how about that??) Looking back I know that I must have made this one young lady feel like that fucking outbreak monkey when I asked her if it was OK if I wore three condoms. Listen, being so concerned about my health would usually a good thing, but I really have to stop vigorously scrubbing my penis in the sink of a woman who I was just intimate with.

The Flop: All of the above is true, for the most part, but despite my fear of diseases the pervert in me tends to prevail. I really am cautious, except for that one time I had sex with a woman that I hardly knew in the bathroom at a wake. I really did have all of those AIDS tests, but I forgot about that when I was in Vegas and had a good time with a chick who was so tall I was certain that she could hold Shaq to single digits. The three condom story is true as well, it's just a shame that I didn't think about that as I got to know this waitress named Maria on my bed. Granted, I did have 20 bibles under my bed with a rosary in my hand as I begged the almighty that my condom stayed in tact, but I'm still a hypocrite.

On my Writing:

The Flip: Insecurity doesn't just affect me when I pull down my pants in front of a lovely lady, it affects me when it comes to my writing as well. I'm very appreciative when anyone gives me a kind word concerning my blog, I'm truly thankful, but I am so hard on my writing that I secretly don't believe that my writing is nowhere near the quality of other bloggers out there. I don't mean to hit anyone with any sort of fake humility, I honestly feel that way.

The Flop: I'm such an insufferable prick. Even though I don't think much about my own writings, I'm very vocal about those who I think I'm better than. Seriously, especially people who aren't my friends, I'll go to their website and say "Fuck man, I'm way better than this guy!!!" Or I will peruse their comment section and based on the kind comments people will post, I'll throw up my hands and say "These people wouldn't know a good writer if John Grisham ass-raped them in a library!!" Yeah man, I'm insecure about my writings, but you should have caught me around award time commenting on the people who beat me in certain categories. I was like Nas in the beginning of "Ether", "Huh?? What??! You!!?? What??!!"(Those people have good sites, I'm just a douchebag..)

On Southern Hip Hop:

The Flip: I openly reject when people say that I hate on Southern Hip Hop. I try my best to articulately state my case that I hate wack rappers from all regions of our great country, pointing out my utter distaste for New York rappers like the Dipset and New Yorkers of their ilk, and I also point out acts like Scarface, Outkast, and 8 ball and MJG that I'm a fan of and acts like T.I and Ludacris that I'm not particularly mad at. Sure I'm a hater when it comes to people that I feel that I could even rap circles around, but in no way am I singling out my brothers and sisters from down south. I love everyone, so now lets all hold hands in a loving circle and sing kumbaya, because this Hip Hop shit is for everybody!!

The Flop: You know what, a lot of that down shit is wacker than a motherfucker. Sure there are a slew of New York rappers who are wack as hell, but it just seems that the strongest stench when it comes to Hip Hop is coming from below the Mason-Dixon line. Lil Webbie and Young Scrappy, those sound like "Pound Puppies" and not men who should be wielding a fucking microphone!! Snap Dancing, that horrible "walk it out" dance, Young Joc, Jeezy, T-Pain, I feel that Hip Hop went royalty to the watermelon patch.(see the B.E.T Hip Hop Awards) Again, in no way am I saying that people from the south lack the lyrical ability to be as good as anyone else, it's just my opinion that most of the shit coming out of the south right now sucks harder than a Hoover upright. Also, don't give me that "you have to deal with the changing times" bullshit, I think that people who respect Hip Hop should stop grading it on a goddamned curve, if its wack then its wack.

Video of the Day: Mic Geronimo: "Masta I.C"

Some Rock for that Ass: Jimi Hendrix "Purple Haze"

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Did I ever tell you how impatient I am?

Similar to what I told this big gentleman named Mitch while punching him because of a very gay suggestion he threw my way as we shared a city jail cell, some things I absolutely refuse to wrap my head around. I mean, with cringe-worthy music, a rap vocabulary mastered only in "Cat in the Hat" books, and an ignorance that makes you long for the glory days of black face minstrel shows, it baffles me that Jim Jones has anything resembling a fan base. Last night I saw a video of Bobby Knight, a man known for his violent outbursts towards his players, sock a kid under the chin with a closed fist because the kid didn't look him in the eye. I personally can't get my head around the fact that that young mans parents, or the parents of some of the other kids Knight has bullied over the past years, haven't already come down out of the stands and told the Hall of Fame coach "Listen, if you ever put your hands on my kid again I will do my best to be a fucking highlight on Sportcenter, you know, beating you to death in front of Dick Vital and all!" Then we have the piling on of Kevin Federline, sure he is the worst rapper ever, a man who makes Mark Wahlberg's rapping days look like a thing of legend, there is no debate with me that the man is allergic to microphones and metaphors. But I can't wrap my head around the fact that people easily pile on K-Fed, but excuse the same level of wackness in my opinion of talentless, special Olympics "Hey, I get a medal just for showing up!" rappers like Lil Webbie, Young Joc, or 90% of the motherfuckers who performed at the Ozone Magazine Awards.

I said all of that because one thing I can't wrap my head around concerning myself is the level of impatience that is flowing through my chubby bloodstream. I've pretty much kept my violent outbursts in check for the most part over the past year, walking away and laughing off incidents that I would have tried to break someones jaw for a couple of years back. I've made it a point to be more honest with women that I date, telling them ahead of time things like "Listen, I just want to fuck you, so lets hope my quest for penetration and silence doesn't get between us having a good time!!", or right before a sexual encounter saying "You know, usually a guy in my position might say something like 'this might hurt a little', not me. With me you might giggle a little, and openly wonder if your middle finger is a significant upgrade." But it seems that my patience, as I get older, is wearing thin like Nicole Richie modeling thongs in Ethiopia. Here are a few examples:

The Checkout line: Being that I'm a chubby black bastard that grew up with a stutter, its safe to say that sometimes my self-esteem is lower than midget manic-depressives. That being said, I do have my sexy moments, like how I forcefully throw the wack CD's of a woman I might be dating out of the car window, that's hot in my honest opinion. I can't forget about how much women love how I convulse and make vomit sounds as I ejaculate, those are some of my sexier moments. But one thing that isn't sexy, not in the least, is how I sigh and pout like a petulant child whenever I find myself waiting too long in a checkout line. If I'm standing there longer than a minute first I'll sigh, then I will have that 1000 yard stare, desperately trying to be somewhere else mentally to forget about the 2 minute wait I'm on the business end of. After that its gets uglier than Mary J Blige without her make-up on, if an old man is holding up the line with his shitload of pennies and coupons, I'll offer to pay whatever he came for, then I'll give the old "I once saw Babe Ruth play" man a gentle mush in the back of the head for his troubles. If there is only one cashier, a long line, a slew of empty registers, and other employees wandering around the store, I will grab one of them and scream "Somebody has got to give that poor woman some help!!" Lastly, if the cashier's long line has to do with he fact that she has been yapping on her cell phone, when I get to the register I'll say "Now you know that shit you were talking about wasn't important. Listen, I don't mind you and your harlot friend playing "guess the vaginal rash", but for Christs sake do it on your own time!!"

Clothes Shopping: Ever since I was a toddler and was forced to go shopping with my mother, me and shopping for clothes have had a turbulent relationship. Especially when you go shopping with a girlfriend, being forced to sit and watch as the woman you love tries on a plethora of outfits like a ghetto version of "Pretty Woman" and shit, I would rather be kicked in the nuts by a NFL kicker wearing steel toe boots. Based on said impatience, when it comes to buying clothes for myself I'm literally in and out, a ritual that many of my ex-girlfriends would say I practice in the bedroom as well. Its bad man, if a nice salesperson asks me if I need help one too many times, I start tugging my dreads and screaming "Will you leave me the fuck alone already!! These voices in my head, their telling me to do things!!!" Sure it's over the top, but they leave you alone though.

On the telephone: I'm not really a phone person to begin with, but there a few times that I want to say things other than "What bar are y'all going to?" and "Come by, I promise to give you cab fare this time!!". But the one thing I hate is when you are on the phone with someone and a person near them attempts to have a full fledged conversation with them while they are on the phone with you. I mean, certain intrusions are understandable, like "I've been shot!!", "The house is on fire!!", or "Young Jeezy actually has a hot verse!!", but that's about it. I always want to tell the person that I'm talking to, "That miserable motherfucker doesn't see that you are on the phone. I don't know what is more troubling, their rudeness or the fact that you haven't told them to "scram" yet." Yeah I know, I'm nitpicking, but then again I am the guy who has a 25 second "on hold rule", so I guess you should consider the source.

Picking someone up: This is going to sound utterly ridiculous coming from a guy legendary for keeping people waiting, or flat out not showing up to places I'm supposed to, but nothing irritates me more than waiting for someone.(Ok, maybe wearing a polyester condom would be more irritating..) It never fails, I am waiting in front of a woman's house who I plan on seducing after she orders from the inexpensive side of the menu later, and as soon as I have sat there longer than I like I start honking the horn like a madman and screaming out the window "Come the fuck on, a cheap night out on the town and pleasure-free sex awaits you!!!" People hate when I drive because I have quite the reputation of leaving your ass, regardless how many minutes, miles, or states we are from your place of residence.

Video of the Day: Camp lo: "Luchini"

Some soul for that ass: Bill Withers: "Grandma's Hands/Use me"

How I misinterpreted Rap lyrics: Ice Cube ""Check Yo Self"

For the longest time, unti last week, I thought Ice Cube said the following in the song "Check Yo Self":

You better check yo self before you wreck yo self
Cos I'm bad for your health, I come real stealth
Droppin bombs on ya moms, fuck Carl Lums
Doin foul crime, I'm that nigga wit'cha Alpine

Ok, I never knew who that "Carl Lums" guy was, maybe he was some California politician that wanted to pass legislation that seemed like an affront to the black community, who knows?? But I have been saying this gentleman's name in extreme confidence ever since the song first came out. That was until I saw what he actually said:

You better check yo self before you wreck yo self
Cos I'm bad for your health, I come real stealth
Droppin bombs on ya moms, fuck car alarms
Doin foul crime, I'm that nigga wit'cha Alpine

Ok, that makes since, especially since he mentioned a stereo system in the line following. Hey, to all the men named Carl Lums out there, I owe you a sincere apology.

Rodney Mullen..

A clip of my favorite skater..

Friday, November 10, 2006

A thin line between love and hate: Me and my loctitian..

Loctitian:(Lazy, Humanitycritic definition):1. A person, usually of the female persuasion, who maintains your dreadlocks.(They usually have very Afrocentric things in their shop, you get the feeling that you were tossed into an Eyrkah Badu concert or ass-raped by Africa Bambaataa)

I have to be honest with you, for a blue-blooded heterosexual male like myself who loves sports, titty's, and the asses of women who buy their undergarments exclusively in the Lane Bryant catalog, I feel that I know entirely too much when it comes to being inside of a beauty shop. I guess it started when I was 10 years old, spending hours amongst hours in a beauty-shop chair as a couple of beautician's acted as if they were a fucking Nascar pit-crew fixing tires or some shit, then spending entirely too long under a dryer just so the end result would be me having the sloppiest jheri curl this side of that fictitious "Soul Glow" commercial.(Yes I had a curl, it was my father's idea you no-good motherfuckers!!!) But what happened, especially due to my laziness when it came to maintaining said hairstyle, it resulted in me being one well groomed chubby pre-ejaculator when it came to mane in my post jheri curl days.(My pubic hair is an entirely different story, wild grey hairs mixed with the stubbiest black penis this side of a newborn, looking like a finished cigar in an ashtray.) Hell, I ruined pillows and sheets when I didn't wear that dastardly shower cap on my head while sleeping, and when I didn't lubricate my hair as instructed, the curl became an unmanageable dry Afro that was only good for scrubbing dishes and eating all flies that came within a one foot radius.

But as time went on and the way that I wore my hair changed, I always made sure that my haircut was tighter than a nun's vagina. It's weird though because I'm not vain at all, I dress down most of the time, I've been known to grow my beard to such lengths that my own mother nicknames me "Black Jesus with a thyroid problem". But I have been so on top of keeping my hair looking right that it forced an ex lover to say "If you spent as much time fucking me as you do on your hair, I wouldn't be seriously considering the convent or lesbianism!!!" So for the last 11 plus years, the duration that I have had my dreadlocks, I have spent a great deal of my time in somebody's place of haircare. The first few years were spent in my cousin's shop, a place that specialized in giving women perms and mass amounts of horse hair, so it wouldn't surprise anyone that my locs were started with a comb and some styling gel. The next few years were spent in a shop specializing in natural hair, she was good but her shop was too far from my house, the ghetto ass conversations, religious nut-jobs who voted solely on abortion, and the amount of time she would spend eating, talking to her ignorant girlfriends, and buying knock-off shit from the local hood entrepreneur while she was supposed to be doing my hair made me want to kill everyone in that motherfucker. The past few years I have been going to this chick literally down the block who owns her own hair care business, specializing in dreadlocks and braids. She's good at what she does, and she is pretty cool, so you would think that I wouldn't have any complaints huh?? This is HumanityCritic talking here, a guy who once complained to a girl post coitus "Listen, that was great and all, but the whole "You have the biggest dick in the world" distracted me based on the inaccuracy of it!!", so of course I have complaints.

She plays Jazz interpretation CD's of classic Hip Hop songs: Even though I have received my fair share of lap dances in my day, I never really understood the point of a chick dry humping your leg like a doberman pincher in heat when you could just slide the broad a few bucks and fuck her on the backseat of your car, clutching some rosary beads, praying that the condom that has been in your wallet since high school doesn't break. I once dated a chick who was a strict vegan who cooked me some tofu eggs one morning, an endeavor so pointless that I mixed in real eggs with the fake variety. There is a lesbian that I know who only dates women who look extremely manly, something that disgusted me so much that I told her "Why don't you just fuck me, my cock isn't detachable, I have tits of the male variety, and I can pull off that "I'll beat your ass if you fuck with me!!" look better than any lesbian you can find!!" I went into all of that because my loctitian, god bless her, plays these Jazz CD's that are interpretations of popular Hip Hop songs. Imagine you are sitting there, minding your business, and what you think is A Tribe Called Quests "Check the Rhime" comes on. You are bopping your head, thinking back to what you were doing the year that song came out, and right when Q-Tip is supposed to rhyme a fucking trumpet starts playing?? What the fuck?? That is the equivalent of a chick blowing you, and before you erupt like Mt. Vesuvius she gets up and starts washing the dishes, a totally unsatisfying endeavor. Those Jazz Cd's cover stuff from a lot of great MC's, a fact that inspires me to find the mastermind behind those CD's and strangle the life out of him with a fucking microphone cord.

She doesn't rub my scalp the way I like: I'm not going to lie to you, outside of a chick giving me a spirited mouth-hug and possibly allowing me to eat mac and cheese off of her backside, there is nothing that pitches my tent faster than a chick rubbing my scalp. I'm serious, I used to date this hairstylist who would rub my head so good during a shampooing that after a while I started to turn down intercourse and say, "Hey baby, why don't you just wash my hair and leave??" Some people have fantasies of fucking on a private jet, being the meat in a 2 girl lesbian sandwich, and a host of other shit probably too deviant for this perverted blog to mention. Do you know what my fantasy is?? Being on the business end of a three way with two slutty identical twins, one blowing me and one washing my hair, now THAT'S sexy!! That being said, the chick that maintains my dreadlocks thoroughly washes my hair and I guess I should be happy about that, but she doesn't rub my scalp the way others have in the past. I know, she is my loctitian and not a sex toy, but its getting to the point where I'm about to be honest and openly tell her that it gives me wood, admit that I'm a pervert, and slide her an extra 100 bucks is she looked past my sexual idiosyncrasy.

She has a memory like an elephant: Even though I was late a couple of times and missed an appointment 2 years ago, she always writes me down for a future meeting while saying "Be sure to call if you can't make it!!" Jesus Christ lady, let it go already. Not only that, based on the fact that I met one of her clients a few months ago in her shop, got her number, made some latenight visits to her residence where I left 2.1 seconds after ejaculating, and stopped calling her soon after, my loctitian has refused to hook me up with anyone else. Not only has she refused to introduce me to her clients any more, I have the feeling that she has warned other women about me by the way women in her shop that I don't even know walk past me in disgust while clutching their purses. I went to ask this one fine sister the time and before I could even get the question out she said, "No, no, no!!" I wonder what she has told them, that I'm a career criminal, that I was once in prison for murdering women with dreadlocks, that I have some STD so horrible that scientists were forced to name it after me, or the truth, that I once fucked one of her clients and proceeded to wash my nuts in her sink?? Who knows.

The Dryer: I thought I was pretty tough, I have been jumped more times that I care to remember, I can take a punch, I once fucked an anorexic broad while her exposed ribs gave me stab wounds, I had to deal with my father's death, getting dumped by a woman I thought I'd marry, and dealing with my mother's breast cancer all at the same time, I thought I could deal with anything. That was until I realized that the longer that my hair grew, the longer my black ass would have to stay under that god forsaken dryer. Ladies, I don't see how you do it, because after 45 minutes I'm squirming in my chair, tapping my foot like child who ate too much chocolate, and I feel so hot that I'm convinced that I have lost a significant amount of weight. I'm always pulling the dryer off my head in disgust, and even though my loctitian claims that my hair is still wet, I pay her and leave, not giving a fuck if I catch my death because of it.

Some Friday Soul for your stinking asses!! Robin Thicke "To the Sky"

Not for nothing but I think this guy should be a star already. I know that some people know who he is, but based on the steaming piles of giraffe crap that we are told is R&B nowadays, why in the fuck isn't this guy a household name?? It seems that regardless where this guy goes, the label shows that they can't market themselves out of a fucking paper bag. Jesus Christ..

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Jim Webb like a motherfucker!!!

Back in the late 80's as I nodded my bald fade to the beats of The Bomb Squad and the angry political lyrics of Chuck D I saw myself as a young revolutionary, like Michael from "Good Times", only less gay. I thought back then that I would grow up to be quite the militant, holding secret meetings with like-minded individuals in underground undisclosed locations, dressing in all black and wearing some sort of beret, and only fucking women who looked up to Angela Davis and yelled "Power to the people!!" after they climaxed. I even saw myself kidnapping political leaders who I felt didn't do right by my people, not necessarily causing them physical harm, but making them know the plight of the black-man by strapping them to a chair and making them listen to "It takes a nation of millions to hold us back" a thousand times, forcing them to watch "Roots" on a 24 hour loop, and only feeding them a steady diet of cooked pig intestines and grape soda. So suffice it to say, I'm sure my support of Jim Webb has offended whatever revolutionary sensibilities are still in this chubby frame of mine, but something about supporting a far superior candidate and wanting him to beat a career racist just lit a fire under my ass, like being on the business end of a cannibal's barbecue.

Listen, I'm overjoyed that Jim Webb beat a man who was not only incompetent, but a man if he had it his way would still have my people enslaved and shit. Sure, its comforting to know that my state will be led by a man who was a war hero, was against this war from the beginning, and seems to have a pretty good sense of what right and wrong is, but the icing on the cake is that he beat a man who was so much of a Bush loyalist that he voted with his ass 96% of the time. I know, I should be happier, I should be dancing around the lifeless carcass that is the political career of George Allen, I should be going to all those pro Allen blogs and simply uttering the words "What now motherfucker!!??", I should be so happy that democracy worked in my favor that I should call this hooker that I know to come over and sing the National Anthem naked as I give myself a self gratulatory "yank". Yeah I'm happy, but here are a few reasons I'm not as happy as I should be.

What is up with my area??: I've always seen Virginia as that drunk uncle, even though he might piss in the barbecue grill and flirt with your wife at the family reunion, you still have love for the guy. I know, I know, my state of Virginia is as backwards as a dyslexic product of inbreeding, but I just hoped that my state had progressed past "Hee-Haw" reruns and Nascar races. Sure, I guess Virginia as a whole showed that they have evolved somewhat based on the election of Jim Webb, I'm more upset at my specific area. Did you know that my city, Virginia Beach, went overwhelmingly for Allen?? Not only that, 5 of the surrounding 7 cities went for that confederate flag loving, rare racial slur flinging, noose in his office hanging son of a bitch. Thank god for the good people of Northern Virginia and their political savviness, because if it was up to my backwards neighbors I'm certain that the return of Jim Crow and cross burnings would be on the next ballot.

It's official, Americans are stupid:
I guess it shouldn't have been a shock to me that the average person in the United States has the I.Q of a lawn chair, I just had to be reminded of it over the past week or so. If it wasn't people smearing Clinton and distorting his record as their retort whenever you bashed Bush, their Fox-news regurgitated claims that the war was going well despite criticisms from top conservatives saying otherwise and the editorial of every military newspaper calling for Rumsfeld's resignation, then we have John Kerry's "bitched joke". The level of desperation I witnessed as people tried to propel something that was an obvious verbal gaffe was pretty sad to see. One case was this young soldier that I had an argument with, he said "Yeah, Kerry said that we are all stupid. Yep, he sure did!!" When I told the young man that Kerry was referring to Bush, and asked him how he felt about Bush's "Nope, no weapons there!!" joke and the fact that he said "Bin Laden wasn't a priority"', he ignored all of that and said "Yeah, Kerry dissed us!" Thats when I conceded and said, "Yeah, I think Kerry was talking about you specifically!!"

Some of my friends supported Allen, they have to go
: Am I overreacting when I sincerely think that a vote for Allen was a vote for racism?? That being said, I feel that I have to give some of my caucasian friends who voted for that proverbial shit-stain a motherfucking pink-slip. It's harsh, I know, but I'm certain that my jewish friends would disassociate themselves from me if I voted for a candidate that not only used slurs against Jews, but had a weird affection with the swastika. Not only am I thinking about ending friendships, but I'm thinking about visiting every black pastor who campaigned with Allen over the past few months, going to their churces and interrupting their Sunday service by standing up and screaming, "What in the fuck were you thinking? You are no messenger of god sir, you are a charlatan and you motherfucking betray our trust!!!!"

Video of the Day: KRS-One: "Sound of Da Police"

Sunday, November 05, 2006

George Allen Doesn't Like Black People!!!

A democratic strategist once told me that he thought that republicans don't really want to win arguments, they just want to muddy them up so much that the public doesn't really know what they are looking at. This is the case when it comes to George Allen's campaign against Jim Webb over the past few months. For example, to counter Allen's lengthy history of being a huge fucking racist, his campaign pulled a guy named Dan Cragg out of their collective asses. Cragg is a Vietnam veteran and a prolific writer who claims that during a newspaper interview he did with Jim Webb in 1983, that Webb recalled college pranks from 20 years earlier in which racial epithets were used and guns were pointed at African Americans on the streets of Watts. Now keep this in mind, said racism is missing from Cragg's own transcript of the interview and the tape recording, and Cragg says he doesn't know if he erased it or just failed to record that segment of the interview. Ok.. Keep this in mind as well, besides his bio saying that he is "an analyst for the Defense Department", he has strong ties to the Bush administration. That is the basis of Jim Webb's "racism", the words of a fucking partisan hack who claims that Webb said something even though there is no recording of him saying this, no notes, nothing. But you can bet your sweet ass that every media outlet, and a slew of silly right wing bloggers who decided to leave their conscious at the door were willing to run with something so unsubstantiated that they made Geraldo Rivera look like Edward R. Murrow. See, the argument is now muddy, and Jim Webb becomes indistinguishable with the hatemonger that is George Allen.

The Second example is how the Allen campaign has pointed to Webb's fictional writings, he is an award winning author, and not only tried to show his distaste for women through his fictional characters, but also claimed that he was a racist based on some racial epithets a character used in one of his books. Jesus, in that case, Martin Scorsese, Quinton Tarantino, and Steven Spielberg better not run for public office ever, because they will be branded as racists!! But that's what they do, they want you to think that Webb's fictional writings are the same as George Allen opposing a Martin Luther King jr. Holiday. They want you to think that the unproven words of a Bush loyalist about Webb are the same as Allen calling a young man "Macaca" at a campaign event. They want you to think that the words of fictional characters in one of Webb's books is the same as Allen posing for a picture with the Council of Conservative Citizens(CCC), a fucking White Supremacist group!!

Based on George Allen's incompetence and history of racism, the fact that Webb is only leading by one percentage point is despicable. If you know anyone in Virginia, your baby's momma, your transvestite cousin, even that dude you fucked in college once on a dare, tell them to vote for Webb come Tuesday. Oh yeah, fuck you Larry Elder, Jim Webb and George Allen aren't the same person.

Ten Types of Republicans

I just had to put that on my blog, even though I would like to add one.

11. Mr. Black Token:
When defending their choice of political affiliation, Mr. Black Token will assure you that the welcome mat is rolled out on the front steps of the republican party for African Americans. Besides telling anyone that will listen about their individualism, you might hear their heartwarming tale of why they decided to be a republican in the first place, a scripted cluster-fuck that usually has something to do with the democratic party taking them for granted. Yes, the democratic party takes black folks for granted, but what Mr. Black Token always fails to demonstrate is how the Republican Party is any better. Usually you can find him on stage at republican conventions as a pawn to show the party's "diversity", he'll be dragged out as the friend of a politician accused of racism to say "I know him and he's no racist!!", and he's the one that says "I didn't think that was racist at all!!" with a straight face when asked about that racially charged ad against Harold Ford Jr.

Mr. Black Token, especially if they are a blogger, doesn't see the need to introduce other black people to a party they believe in, no, they spend a great deal of their time apologizing for the racism in their party and especially pointing out clear examples of reverse racism on white people. It's kind of like a black cop who wants to show his white partner that he won't give black people preferential treatment, so he bashes in the head of some random perp. Or a new gang-member who kills an elderly woman just to show the homeys that he's down.

For all you fucking Church-Goers: Das Efx "Mic Checka"

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Sweet revenge for my mother would be me having children.

You'd think that my mother would want her baby boy to go out there, find some delusional harlot who doesn't mind having mac and cheese eaten off of her backside, and spread my demon-seed as clumsily as humanly possible and produce some sort of offspring who shares their father's hatred of ill advised Hip Hop. You'd think that my mother has dreamt of the day that she could hold her grandchildren in her arms, look them in the face, and lovingly ask the infant "Is my son really your father, because blue eyes don't run in my family???" But the sad reality is that my mother has no interest whatsoever in becoming a grandparent. Ok, let me revise that, I have never met a woman in my life so vehemently opposed to any of her children bringing a drooling crumb-snatcher into this world. I'm serious, if I even mention procreation she breaks out with a "Don't think I'm going to be the one babysitting, watching those brats for you!! What do I look like, burping your brats and whispering in the baby's ear how you wet the bed until you were 18, while you go to the club, hook up with some girl, and catch some new disease that they will probably end up naming after your ass!!. FUCK, that." I don't want any of you to get the wrong impression of my mother, I love her to death and she is an extremely warm person, an example of said warmth is when she comforted me after an extremely difficult break-up by saying, "Pull up your skirt already, Jesus fucking Christ. So she was a whore?? So she fucked more black men than the U.S government?? Realize the guy she is with now probably nicknames his penis "Marco Polo" based on all the "new territory" he's exploring, and move the fuck on already!!" My mother, you have to love her, she's like Dr. Phil on steroids with a loaded 45.

That being said, lately when I have made gestures about wanting to have kids, she has been amazingly receptive. There hasn't been any angry anti-babysitting diatribes, no "a child can't raise a child" quips, no looks of disgust as if Rush Limbaugh had just spread his diseased butt-cheeks and farted, she doesn't even mock me with a "All I hear is.. whah-whah-whah-whah..Its like Charlie Brown's teacher, only chubbier and with dreadlocks" retort. I started to think that my mother was up for babysitting my offspring afterall, until I finally figured out her evil plot, she wants me to have kids so they can put me through the same drama I put my her through. I thought to myself, "I wasn't a bad kid, I have nothing to worry about!!", but as the day went on memories of my bad behavior started to interrupt my daily thought process like flashbacks to a Vietnam War veteran. Here are a few reasons why I feel my mother wants me to have children.

I have always been very vocal about my bowel movements: Let me tell you, the woman who marries me has to be Mother Theresa, one that likes to deep throat that is, because I have certain habits that are pretty disgusting. No, I don't have a drawer full of toe nail clippings, or a room full of Mary J Blige posters where she is posing with her make-up off. I'm talking about my post bowel idiosyncrasies, habits that include me saying "Whew, I..have..just..lost WEIGHT!!!", "Man, I can suddenly jump so much higher!!", and the line I stole from an Ice Cube song "Comin' out, feeling about, 10 pounds lighter!!" Yes, I'm immature, but then again I am the same guy who giggles whenever you say the word "Boobies", so please consider the source. It all started when I was a baby though, I would be with my mother in some grocery store, and whenever I would have a bowel movement in my diapers I would let out an extremely loud "Ewwww..Ewwww..Ewww". Aparently, this embarrassed my mother so much that she still talks about that like it happened a couple of years ago.

Even as a kid I had a problem holding my tongue: We all know that kids can be brutally honest, but the level of honesty that made its way out of my mandible forced my mother to take off whatever shoe she was wearing and beat me with it.(That might explains why I still have an issue with High Heels) It was like Rush Limbaugh doing his radio show after he just got finished eating some ass, some of the shit that came out of my mouth was quite disturbing. One time I saw some kid who was mentally handicapped and I loudly asked my mother, "Mommy, what is wrong with that baby's head??!!!" Or the time I asked my mother, as we were standing behind the woman in question in a grocery line, "Mommy, that woman has the biggest butt I have ever seen!!" I guess the worst offence, based on a conversation that I heard my parents had, is when I told my mom's friend "Mommy told me to stay aways from your husband because he likes little boys!!" My poor mother had to put up with a lot, I guess she still does, based on me telling a male cashier recently "If you keep giving my mother attitude I'm going to bludgeon you to death with that cash register, and I will be too busy stomping you to ask whether you want paper or plastic!!!"

I viewed Santa and the Easter Bunny as al Qaeda: I don't know what it is, but as a kid I treated anybody dressed up like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny like my personal punching bag. No shit, if me and my mother were to walk past a grown man wearing a bunny suit, I would punch him in the crotch mid stride like I was doing a punch-by. One time when I was a little boy, and that fat white bastard in that red suit asked me what I wanted for Christmas as I sat on his lap, I paused, then proceeded to smack the holiday cheer out of that motherfucker. Each year my mother thought that I matured so she would let me get back on Santa's lap, but the end result would be me either kicking Santa in his yule-log, puling off his hat and wig and throwing it for distance, I even think I gave Saint Nick a headbutt one year.

I've been a pervert since my tonka and G.I Joe days: When I was 5 or so, we lived across the street from these two sisters names Shelly and Rebbecca who were a few years older than me. We would do the normal kid stuff, play in the sand, tag, throw a Frisbee around, but my favorite pastime was me rubbing Shelly and Rebecca's legs whenever I got the chance. I know I wasn't old enough to get an erection aka "The baby's arm", but when I rubbed those white girls legs I knew it brought me joy on some level. Matter of fact, like a recreational cocaine user who's habits spiral into smoking cooked cocaine on a regular basis, my leg rubbing ritual became to be quite the common occurrence. Shelly's parents caught me rubbing legs like a madman but they didn't care because they were just a couple of dirty hippies. But when my mother found out what I was doing that was the end of the relationship between my hands and the creamy white thighs of an 8 year old. I still remember my mother telling my father about it and him responding, "Well, look on the bright side, at least the little shit isn't gay!!"

Me and authority have always had beef:
Like an asshole boss at a slaughterhouse, I guess I still have beef with authority. Like a few weeks ago when I got pulled over by Virginia Beach's finest, he wasn't going to give me a ticket but proceeded to ask me about drugs and a gang of other shit, it was to the point that I just told him "Look, just give me a ticket so I don't have to hear you endless bullshit, Ok Serpico??" But it all goes back to pre-school, when I was told to take a nap and didn't want to, so I grabbed my bag and ran out of the building on some "Prison Break" shit. Or the time I played pee-wee soccer and the coach took me out for a kid who couldn't hold my ball supporter athletically, when I asked him why, and he told me that he had to give everyone playing time I said "What kind of man are you?? This is amateur hour, you don't want to win do you??" There was that time that my pee-wee football coach grabbed my face-mask aggressively to yell at me, so I immediately pushed him off me and said "Get your mother-fucking hands off of me!!". Then we have my junior high years when my favorite response to teachers who put me on the business end of a lecture was, "Who in the fuck do you think you're talking to??" Man, if that shit about Karma is true, my kids are going to be the death of me.