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!!!

Video of the Day: The Juice Crew: "The Symphony"

This track will probably go down, in my humble opinion, as one of the greatest posse cuts of all time. Whenever I see some random collaboration, Lil John, Nelly and MC Pantywaist, or Chingy, Yung Joc, featuring Lil ball-sweat, I have to laugh because I'm sure they all feel what they are doing is a collaboration pushing the art-form forward. Depressing thoughts aside, I've always been the biggest fans of both Big Daddy Kane and Kool G Rap. When I was younger I thought Kane had the better verse with "Put a quarter in your ass cause you player yourself!!", but now that I'm older I feel that Kool G Rap has the better verse. Come on, "Making veterans run for medicine, turning out more light in a fight than Con Edison!", masturbation couldn't beat that.

Sorry, but THIS is the most violent Hip Hop video of all time: Kool G Rap "On the Run"

You know how the Internet is, you stumble on shit unexpectedly when you are looking for something entirely unrelated to what you originally looked for. I have stumbled on a DJ Premier fansite when I was looking for midget pornography, I found an old high school friend on myspace when I was searching for a site where the women lacked a gag reflex, I even found a great Hip Hop blog when I was searching pornography where the women were covered in chocolate.(Yes, I like porn) So the other day, when I was browsing the Internet(probably for porn) I came across this page on SOHH where they were breaking down some of the most violent Hip Hop video's ever. It was pretty interesting, in a "I totally disagree, but respectfully" fashion, so I thought I would chime in with my 12 cents here on my blog. One of the choices on the site was N.W.A's "Alwayz Into Somethin", a choice I disagree with because besides having that fake rasta dude in the chorus, all the video was was the group members shooting off guns like they were at a firing range, shooting walls and shit. Another choice was Jay-Z's "99 Problems", great video, but anyone who has seen a "Behind the Scene's" part of a DVD knows about those squibs they put on your body to make it look like you are being shot. Yes Jay gets shot at the end, but not violent enough for a blood thirsty savage like myself. B.I.G's "Warning", nope, Onyx's "Live Niguz", please, it became apparent that I didn't agree with any of the choices that were on this gentleman's page.

The most violent Hip Hop video ever, in my chubby humble opinion, is Kool G Rap's "On the Run". Along with how eerie it was shot, the vivid story line in the song, and the actual bodies that homeboy catches in the video, I would say that this video in the winner hands down. Plus, come on, no one in N.W.A were real gangsters, Ice Cube was going to college and Dre used to wear lace and shit pre-N.W.A. Onyx, weren't they an R&B group at one time, and the mere fact that Sticky got his ass beat on MTV years ago in a boxing match against an X-Gamer erases any form of toughness whatsoever. Granted, I don't know what if any forms of criminality G Rap has been a part of, but lets just say that I wouldn't test him.

A true sign of the Apocalypse: Typing the words "chicken noodle soup" on Youtube

I have never had a post where the title pretty much sums up everything you need to know. It's true, if you go to Youtube, type in the words "chicken noodle soup", you will witness the decay of civilization as you know it. What you will see, as soon as you hit enter on that porn machine you call a computer, is a lengthy display of douche-bags across the globe doing some minstrel-like dance called the "Chicken Noodle Soup". I have to ask you, am I just getting old?? Did our parents look at "The Whop" and dances of my era the same way I look at this dance, privately wondering if these particular individuals are going to smear shoe polish on their face as their blackface "finishing move". Jesus...

Ask HumanityCritic

Over the past year and change I have done this very segment entitled "Ask HumanityCritic" where I post the answers to some of the questions posed to me in some emails I receive. I hoped that my openness, my candid nature, my truthfulness would lead me to a path of Internet ass so impressive that Bill Gates himself would nod in approval. But to no avail, no ass, just some comments of the "hey you are a funny guy and I'd fuck you if the price was right and you were the last motherfucker on earth" variety, but no ass. Oh well, on to the questions..

Humanity Critic, do any of your Ex's read your bog??

A few do, I mean, the ones that aren't currently poking holes in a dread-locked voodoo doll, hoping that I meet the worst of fates. (Seriously, I had an ex who claimed that she was into voodoo and told me that she would make sure that my dick turned blue. You can imagine her frustration when I casually said, "That's OK, I'll just tell people that I've been butt-fucking a smurf. Problem solved.) But for the most part the few exes that still read this daily drivel don't have an issue with that I write, except an ex who took offense to the fact that I said that she left me for a bum.(Sorry, he was a fucking bum)

You haven't talked about Kobe lately.. I was wondering, what do you think is the biggest misconception concerning your favorite ball player?

The biggest misconception I feel is that Kobe "owed" Shaq any loyalty at all. I mean, Shaq openly bitched, publicly ridiculed, and tried to go to management on numerous occasions and have Kobe traded for years. Kobe didn't owe Shaq anything, shit, my ass would have told police Shaq's social security number along with a slew of names of women he slept with like my ass was giving a list of communists to Joseph McCarthy. I'm sorry, but there is no "guy code" if the other party wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire.

Right now I'm single but I have what some call "a friend with benefits". What are your feelings on FWB by the way?

"FWB" always seems like a great concept, "Wait, I can fuck you without having to take your mangy ass anywhere, slip some loving your way without a million questions, I can promote my anti-snuggle agenda?? Where do I sign up??!!" But trust me, after about 5-10 late-night visits where you try to, for lack of a better phrase "knock the stuffin' out of that Egg McMuffin", things begin to go bad like Lil Kim pap smear results. Soon she will be asking about your whereabouts, wanting to do chill with you during "non sex" hours, giving you lofty demands like "You better not be fucking anyone else", but there is one sign where you know that you FWB experience is coming to an end though. That point is post coitus, when she turns to you and says, "Hey, we have to talk!!" Those my friend are the worst 5 words ever, outside of "HumanityCritic, I think I'm pregnant!", "You gave me a disease", and "I'm a Young Jeezy fan."

I used to think your blog was a bunch of stories until I met someone who knows you. I was wondering, how in the fuck have you escaped serious jail time?

Basically I am the human embodiment of that term about God watching over fools and babies, the fool part, even though I'm all for being breast fed. I have had the cuffs slapped on me on a few occasions, even spent a night or two in city jail, but I've never been in "pound me in the ass" prison.("Office Space" reference) I'm glad too because I have a fat ass and long hair, not saying that I wouldn't fight desperately from being someones bitch, but I'm sure my readership would dip to all time lows if people ever found out that I followed an inmate around named "Tiny" while holding his pocket signifying ownership.

You seem to have a very gay friendly blog, what are your beliefs on homosexuality?

To be honest, and gay people are going to be upset with me that I am trivializing their plight, but my acceptance comes from me just not giving a fuck when it comes to how other people live their lives. Gay marriage, homosexuals, lesbians, I will fight along side them because I feel that they shouldn't be discriminated against, but also because I basically think that if something doesn't fucking involve you personally then why should you be against it. Basic, I know, but I am a simple, simple man.

Some people have attacked your usage of the phrase "Real Hip Hop", what are your thoughts on that?

My thoughts are that those people who are against me using that can eat a dick..Next Question!!


OK, OK, I'll elaborate. Real Hip Hop is that shit you will be playing 20 years from now, it's that feeling that the author put his blood, sweat, and tears into his verse, it is that intoxicating beat that makes you nod your head faster than Crackhead blow jobs. "The Bridge is over", "Paid in Full", the D.O.C's "It's Funky Enough", are tunes that I will play while my grand-kids are playing in my front yard. If people are against my usage of what's real or not, ask yourself this question: Can you see yourself playing Lil John, Young Joc or Jeezy, or the Dipset when you are in your 70's?? Didn't think so...

How do you feel about T.I?

When it comes to my tastes in Hip Hop I have three categories.. 1)Dope 2)Wack and 3)Artists that I'm not mad at.. See, even though I probably will never purchase anything with T.I's recorded voice on it, I'm not mad at the man either. This how I see it, if I feel that you love the artform, take pride in what you do, and you don't treat your audience like complete fucking children then I'll give you love. T.I falls in that category.

HumanityCritic, a friend of mine has given me the green light to date his ex-girlfriend. Should I take it?

Don't do it, take it from a man who is an authority on the subject. For example, an ex girlfriend of one of my friends had shown some interest in my chubbiness, so when I approached my boy with it he gave his blessing. I mean, that's all he talked about, how "great" me and her would be together, how I would be better for her than he was, a litany of shit that would give a guy the impression that he was cool with it. Well, a couple of weeks and 6 sexual encounters with his ex later I found out he wasn't cool with it, he was talking shit about me to my other friends, calling her at odd hours, asking me "So, how are my leftover motherfucker??" I tried to take the high road, break it off with the chick to salvage our friendship but he was an insufferable prick regardless. That's when I started doing silly shit like going up to my friend and putting my fingers under his nose, saying "You remember that smell don't you??" Suffice it to say we are no longer pals.

If you could beat someone up for being wack, actor, rapper, whoever.. Who would it be?

Lets see.. Nick Cannon, the dude just bugs me.. Lil Wayne, for the amount of people who actual give this frog looking no talent love. Rush Limbaugh, not for his miserable political beliefs either, I'd just want to go through his pockets for some street grade Oxycontin and get baked!!

What is your favorite album of all time??

Even though the guy isn't even a shell of his old self nowadays, but I'd have to say Ice Cube's "Death Certificate". It was a dope album that addressed poverty, the health care system, gun control, gang violence, racism, the military preying on poor black men, STD's.. Jesus man, you can't get any better than that can you??

I saw "Beat Street" the other night on cable, what do you think about that movie?

Even though the Hip Hop purists probably loathe this movie, I loved it because I'm from Virginia. Let me explain: Being from VA I never had one of those "..and then the DJ plugged his equipment to the light pole at the block party" stories, so any piece of the culture that was thrown my way I was more than willing to gobble up. Also, since I'm an asshole I have used a few lines in the movie in my every day life since then. If a friend of mine was getting beat up, or laying on the ground after taking a beating, I would scream "RAMO!!!!!!!"


I see its time for the BlackWeblogAwards, are you throwing your hat into the ring again?

I don't think so, I mean, there was so much amount of hate concerning my win last time. Thinly veiled disses from other bloggers, nasty emails, people taking me off their blog rolls because of it, I pissed so many people off that maybe it's time that I just bow out gracefully because no one wants to see me win..


You're kidding right??

Of course I am! Man, do you really think I give a slippery fuck what people think about me. I've called someones grandmother "an old whore", put my undersized penis inside a woman during a wake, told a nun she had a "nice ass" once, and let some skinny ass stripper at a bachelor party know that she didn't have enough meat on their bones so I put a sandwich in front of her instead of dollar. I'm down to piss other bloggers off again. (Climbing on my soapbox, looking quite presidential) I'm officially throwing my hat in the ring for the BlackWebogAwards for a second time!!!!

Cases where the actor tried to live out their on screen persona..

Even though I would love to be an actor in the worst way, being able to make a character come to life on screen and the shitload of ass that would come my way because of it, I know that that dream will never happen. Not because I feel that I'm not talented, even though during a High School audition for a play my dumb ass recited stage direction along with my lines: "Dorothy, I love you! Turn and embrace her. I want to be with you forever!! Gazzingly look into her eyes" Not because I feel that I lack the drive to be successful, even though I was fired off a local commercial when I came to the set reeking of alcohol and weed. Not even because I feel that I wouldn't be able to handle all of the female attention, even though after wearing two condoms during sexual intercourse I still wait anxiously for that pissing sensation while urinating, even if it doesn't happen I get tested anyway. I couldn't be an actor because I have a history of trying to live out the roles that I've taken on.

Like the time I ordered my family around for weeks after I played the role of "The Angry Boss" after a 4th grade play I was in. My family was tolerant for a while as I ordered them around like House Negros in the republican party, but one day my father said "If you don't cut that shit out, I'm going to play the role of "child abuser"! I promptly stopped, but a few minutes later I found myself on the business end of a spanking, so when I yelled "What are you doing??" my father said, "I'm method acting!!" Or last year when I played the part of "Vegas" the street pimp in my friends low budget movie that he shot, a movie that went "straight to the shit-can". Honestly, for a while I thought that I had pimp like skills of persuasion. After a few nights of getting drinks thrown in my face, and a few "You want to stick that where??", I knew that trying to live out my screen persona was definitely NOT the move. Here are some actors who I feel try, or have tried to live out there screen persona.

David Carradine: Character:Kwai Chang Caine Show:"Kung Fu"

I guess most of you would know him best as the character of "Bill" in those "Kill Bill" movies, and the man has done a shitload of other acting work, but it is my opinion that this son of a bitch has based his entire life on a character he player more than 30 years ago. Whenever I have seen him, in magazines or in interviews, he has been wearing some fashionable Karate Gui like he just came from a tournament where he defeated a member of the "Cobra Kai"(Karate Kid reference) I'm not sure of the man's history or even if he has a background in Martial Arts or not, but if you can't throw hands with the best of them then stop the false advertising. Unless you aren't a stripper, I'd hope that a man wearing a policeman or a fireman uniform actually partook in those professions. Besides the costume, when you hear the guy talk it seem that he's channeling his best Karate Master voice, like he is dropping verbal gems on you that should be engraved in your brian forever. I had a dream once where I met him and he tried to pull that "snatch the pebble from my hand" shit, where I responded "If I grab it I'm going to shove it right up your ass!" Granted, that seems like something a highly aggressive proctologist might say, but you get my point.

David Hasselhoff: Character: Micheal Knight Show: "Knight Rider"

I know, I know, the man doesn't drive a slick black car that talks to him, and you probably won't see him talking into his watch and summoning his automobile, but it is my belief that he thinks he is Michael Knight in every other way. For one thing, outside of the main character of both "The Office" sitcoms, I have never seen a person so uncool think that they are the unadulterated shit. I know that he is the shit in Germany, a lot of no talents here are the "cats pajama's" abroad, but when you see him you get the feeling he looks in the mirror everyday saying "Hasselhoff like a motherfucker!! Yeahhhh!!" I like confidence like the next guy, but when you see him sing you can tell that in his mind he thinks he is bettering society by his singing that is akin to hearing a constipated turkey moan. To add insult to injury, the guy calls himself "The Hoff"!! You know that you are asshat of douche-bag proportions when you give yourself a nickname. Mike, you were cool when that English voice was coming from your ride, not any more.

Tupac Shakur: Character: "Bishop" Movie: "Juice"

I can just imagine the amount of hate I'm about to receive, every time I say something that isn't claiming that Pac is the best rapper ever, I get a shitload of misspelled emails of hate that invoke more chuckles than anything. Listen, I liked Pac, I'm just disappointed in some of his actions when he was alive and I don't think he was the best rapper ever(far from it), that's all. That being said, I always thought he was trying to channel his character "Bishop" by some of the shit I would see him do or say on T.V. When I first became aware of Pac he was wearing African garb in a Digital Underground video on some "Now I clown around when I hang around with the Underground" shit. His first LP was gritty, with a bunch of male bravado, but it seemed more like a young cat coming to grips with the ills of society from a black man's point of view. It's just my opinion that he didn't start buggin the fuck out until after his role in "Juice". I'm not one to psycho-analyze anyone, and the guy had definite issues concerning his upbringing, but some of actions and words didn't seem like an unruly youth throwing caution to the wind, it always seemed like a dude trying to prove something to somebody that he didn't have to.

Video of the Day: MC Lyte "Paper Thin"

MC Lyte, one of the best rappers ever, the reason that I wanted a Jetta for the longest time, the reason that I only dated chicks with her signature hairstyle, the one and only wordsmith herself. In an age where females have to not only dumb down their lyrics for fame and fortune, and possibly put a snapshot of their ovaries in the liner notes of their album, MC Lyte is sadly a dying breed to say the least. Even though I totally hated that fucking "Rough Neck" song, not because it was particularly bad but because it had women glorifying the image of what a thug was and most of those pussies can't fight anyway. Despite that misstep, I have always had the utmost respect for Lyte, for the path she blazed, her classic music, and the fact that the words "DO NOT SAY SHIT UNTIL YOU WRITE YOUR OWN RHYMES!!!" should be the top Hip Hop Commandment.

"..And You Don't Stop 30 years of Hip Hop" Part 1

I can be hard on people who I feel have horrible tastes in music, I know that and I will never stop being the biggest of Hip Hop snobs.(Sorry, the insufferable prick in me will always be there) But being only a casual comic book and having brief conversations of the genre with hardcore fans like ISelfra, Luke Cage, and Clarence, it seems that the whole world of comics would open up to be if I had a greater concept of history concerning the genre. Because of this I have to just assume that the current state of Hip Hop and the proverbial shit stains that people consider legitimate artists nowadays, it's my assumption that people just don't have a firm grasp of the history of Hip Hop and that explains their piss poor tastes. That being said, I will do my best to drop certain jewels to possibly enlighten the unenlightened. I'm not claiming that I know it all, I don't and can learn from all of you to be totally honest, but occasionally I will do my best to further Hip Hop in the right direction..

That's right. A kinder, gentler HumanityCritic..

As much as we try to distance ourselves from the negative traits that are parents had, there is always that moment of clarity moment when we look in the mirror and realize that we are exactly like them. I don't mind having my mother's traits, I can be kind, compassionate, attentive, and we both share the same love for Negligee catalogs.(For entirely different reasons I hope.) I'm just lucky that I didn't inherit some of my old man's traits, the ability to belittle people, his Jekyll and hide mood-swings, and his weird love for women with excessive hair on their legs.(I remember when he was alive him telling me, "See there HumanityCritic, that right there is a real woman!!" So you can imagine his disgust when I said, "Shit, that woman right there is a Sasquatch! I wouldn't know whether to fuck her, or sheer her for a winter coat!!" He also got mad that I called her "Harry and The Henderson's" to her face whenever I saw her. I'm saying ladies, some hair is alright, but if you can braid the hair on your legs please shave that shit, you bloody fucking savage!)

But the one trait that was handed down from my father, the one trait that has gotten me uninvited to weddings and made people afraid that I would start fights at a baptism, is my extremely bad temper. For those who have read this blog for any amount of time know that I sought professional help for my anger issues, but that experience wound up with a highly trained mental health professional telling me that I was "fucking nuts". So for the past few months, like King Fu walking the earth on some "can you snatch this pebble out of my hand motherfucker?" shit, I have tried to unlock the mystery that is my temper on my own and basically try my best, for lack of a better term, calm the fuck down. Even though, like a kid getting "tea-bagged" by a bully a few times a week there has indeed been some testy moments(get it, "testy"), I have done a lot better when it comes to keeping my temper in check. Here are a few incidents that happened over the last week where I wanted to flip the fuck out, but like an Eskimo winning a blow-job contest, cooler heads prevailed.

My Lawn: For the past 2 years my relationship with my neighbors has been, well, strained at best. Lets see, there has been the white trash hair salon that the lady of the house had built in her garage which in turn led to people parking in front of my house, the looks of disgust I'd get from them every time I walked a miscellaneous woman to her car one drunken morning, how the man of the house almost got beaten the fuck up in front of his child by yours truly after he didn't acknowledge my "what's up" for the third time in a row, but there has always been one monumental issue that I had with the neighbors ever since they have lived there. That problem, in a nutshell, is concerning my lawn. Let me give you a brief background: The people who lived in that house before them had the fucked up habit of cutting multiple rows into my lawn each and every week. No matter how many times I would go over it with my lawn mower, passive aggressively telling them that they were cutting into my property, it's like they didn't give a shit and they would cut even further. After a while it stopped, not because we discussed it like adults or anything, not even because I showed my lovely neighbors documentation of where their property ended, but basically because one summer day when I saw them cutting into my yard I very innocently told them "If you do that again, I'm going to fucking kill you!!" It made me look crazy but it worked. So like old folklore that is passed down from generation to generation, it is my belief that when they sold the house to the current occupants they told them to cut into my yard, I'm serious.

I thought that the divorce of my unruly neighbors would stop their practice of cutting into my yard, I figured now that the lady of the house has the duty of getting her ass out there and cutting the lawn that she would have a common sense about her that her knuckle-dragging, "let me ignore the surveyors spray paint marks and wooden stick in the ground proving that I'm cutting into HumanityCritic's yard" ass didn't have. But last week, as I came home one afternoon, I had noticed that this broad cut 4-5 lines into my yard. Irate, here's what I wanted to do..

I wanted to...: Go over to her house, knock on the door and politely ask if her parents were siblings. I'm sure this wouldn't sit with her too well which I understand, so I can only imagine how upset she would get after I asked her "What are you, fucking retarded??" as I manually pointed her head in the direction of my lawn. The next few minutes, because I'm sick of the same bullshit, I would talk to her like she was a retarded toddler that was hard of hearing. I'd slowly show her the paperwork that indicates where her lawn ends and mine begins, then I would go out of my way and offer to blow it up to poster-size proportions and mount it to the front of her garage if her slow ass ever need it as a guide. Lastly, because I'm a helpful guy like that, I would get a can of spray paint and spray the words "Hey whore, don't pass this line! Thanks.."

What actually happened: I took a few deep breaths, relaxed, and proceeded to cut my own grass without making a fuss. As I got blacker under the 100 degree heat and did my lawn work, I was proud that I didn't lose my head like I had done a million times before. Granted, I did cut like 10 lines into her grass, 10 very uneven and patchy lines to get my point across, but at least I did it in a very calm fashion.

My friends Barbecue: Each year my friend Paul has a barbecue that I love going to, not only because the food is great, the fact that we freestyle, or even the ability to get drunk free of charge, I love going to his shin-digs because his wife has some of the most simple girlfriends imaginable, and I'm all for lines like "Hey, I have my own car!!" being the key to me being on the business end of some random piece of ass at a later date. Anyway, at the barbecue I'm in the middle of three very mentally inept chicks that I'm desperately trying to premature ejaculate with later, when I hear this drunk asshole making quite the disturbance. Dude is cursing people out, throwing things at people, inappropriate grabbing women, and worst of all he made the women that I wanted to sexuallydisappoint so uncomfortable that they wanted to leave. Paul looked at me to do something, so here's what I wanted to do..

I wanted to..: Go up to him and chop him in his throat, and when he was on the ground grasping for air I would go through his pockets then snatch his chain off.(a HumanityCritic signature move) When he regained his wits about him I'm sure that he would want a piece of me, so as we decided to engage in the aged old art of fisticuffs, I'd have him eating jabs the entire time, showing the simple minded bimbo's in attendance that I at least had a skill in something, even if I was quite the letdown in the bedroom. The next few minutes would probably involve me throwing him into the punch bowl, smacking him with some salad forks, possibly even tossing him into a grill or two.

What actually happened: I was so proud of myself that I didn't feel the need to assault the young man unnecessarily. The last thing that I wanted to do was perpetuate the angry black man image, so I really felt that I had accomplished something by very calmly escorting the gentleman to a cab that was called for him. Ok, so my "escorting" actually consisted of me grabbing him by the back of the next and physically kicking him into the cab like he was a stray dog or something, but I never hit him though!

The jackass in the check-out line: In not all that into astrology, but the one thing about Virgo's that I have read that I feel is spot on is how they say that Virgo's are very regimented. That's why if I ever had a hit-man that wanted to end me and the existence of this shitty blog, I wouldn't be that hard to find based on my utterly monotonous routine. Every day after I play basketball, I go to the supermarket to get some Gatorade before I get home. I could have stocked up on Gatorade at an earlier date so I would have it waiting for me when I got home, I could have even purchased it at a closer establishment to where I play ball at so I could quench my chubby thirsts on the drive home, but because I am a stickler for routine I go to the same grocery store near my house like clockwork. So yesterday, after I picked up my selection of Gatorade and started to get in line, this musclebound ass-hat rushed in front of me with his cart full of shit, and to add insult to injury he turned to me and said, "Sucks to be you huh???" I could actually feel the steam coming off my scalp, I mean, besides the blatant rudeness he had a cart full of shit and I had one sole item. That's when I wanted to..

I wanted to..: Choke the life out of him with that 1980's style string tank-top that he had on, watching him get beet red with me screaming "Who does it suck for now motherfucker!!" The next few minutes would consist of me kicking him vigorously, like how Joe Pesci and Robert DeNiro did that guy in "Goodfellas", as the employees and patrons of "Food Lion" look on in utter disbelief as I beat the brakes off of that motherfucker. My finishing move would be to empty the contents of his basket and grab some of his items for myself, afterwards throwing his entire cart onto his lifeless body, yelling "take that motherfucker!!!'

What actually happened: I waited calmly in line with my one item, as this shit-stain bought a shitload of supplements and other things to shrink your cock at an extremely fast rate. When I finally got to the cashier I was glad that I didn't cause a scene, because I knew that the old HumanityCritic would have gave him quite the helping of ass whipping. Granted, when I got outside and saw the man loading his groceries into his van with his wife, I did say "You are lucky I didn't Mame your dumb ass in there!" When he looked like he wanted to say some slick shit I said, "Don't get your ass kicked in front of your lady!!" I know, it's not the most positive tale that you've ever heard in your life, but at least I kept my cool.(Somewhat)

Video of the Day: Public Enemy: "Shut em Down"

Remember the movie "Brown Sugar", where the main character would ask everyone who she interviewed "When did they fall in love with Hip Hop"? Well, even though it was just a piece of fiction, I always felt that it was a softball fucking question. I mean, I fell in love with Hip Hop when my siblings brought that Sugar Hill Gang record home when I was in kindergarten, and watching my father's disapproval of something that he claimed at the time "was a bunch of niggas talking" had me hook, line and sinker. But I look at Hip Hop more like a marriage, forget recalling first dates and first kisses, I always want to know about those in-between moments where you knew that you would love that person forever.

For me, one of those "in-between" moments was the summer of 88' when my 3 cousins came to Va Beach from Hollis Queens. Since their arrival was near my birthday(Aug 31st), they came bearing gifts, three tapes that would indeed change me for the rest of my life. One was Big Daddy Kane's "Long Live the Kane", the second was EPMD's "Strictly Business", and the third was Public Enemy's "It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back". Even though I was a fan of Hip Hop before this point, I can point to me receiving those three albums as a focal point when it comes to my love of said art form. But it was mainly Chuck D, showing me a side of life that I hadn't yet experienced in the suburbia that is Virginia Beach, a side of history that I wouldn't learn at Kempsville High, the rugged beats, the unapologetic lyrics, and the preacher vocal delivery who would put sweaty baptists like T.D Jakes to shame. Man, god bless Public Enemy, god bless Chuck D.(More accurately, Happy Birthday)

Smashing GameCube

I saw this video on Youtube and immediately felt the sudden need to apologize to my cousin John. When we were kids, because I'm a prick who happened to be 4 years older than him, I would torture the poor kid in ever way imaginable. I would break his skateboard, lock him in small closets, throw one of his shoes out of a moving car, throw one of his shoes in a lake, steal his chicken McNuggets, your classic older cousin bullshit. John has not only grown up to be a great dude, he is about 6'5 and full of muscle. He claims that he doesn't remember me fucking with him to no end when we were adolescents, and I hope he really means that, because it is my firm belief that my baby cousin could have me pissing myself in the fetal position somewhere if he wanted to. John, dear cousin, if you are reading this let me say right now that I'm sorry, and if you have me on a short list of people you want to assassinate, please be a pal and take me off. Because I'd hate to sound like that car jack victim in "Menace to Society" that was being robbed by the Kane character, and say to you as I'm staring down the barrel of a gun: "Come on, we're supposed to be brothers!!!!!"

(To cut time, fast forward the video to the 2:57 mark)

Some very aggressive ways to get out of a fight..

For the past few months, to get rid of an unwanted gut so my penis would appear bigger to the ladies, I have played basketball at my local YMCA at least three times a week. The dudes who I play basketball with hate to see me walk through the gym doors because of my killer defense, my ability to split double teams, my deadly three point abilities, and my pin point accuracy when it comes to dishing off the "rock". Ok, the previous sentence was a lie. Even though I am a decent player, people hate me because I told a gentleman on my team who was in his 60's "I wouldn't trust your ass with the remote, you really think you are taking the last shot gramps??", I forced a kind young gentleman on his way to the priesthood to call me a "motherfucker" once, I even made a female baller with WNBA aspirations throw a punch at me in anger after shutting her down and saying "I'll let you by me if you show me your tits!!" Suffice it to say that people at the YMCA hate my very existence, but that's fine because I think being liked is overrated any fucking way.

So you would think me, a guy with about a thousand fights under his belt, a rather casual distaste for any member of the clergy, a love for triple penetration porn and any flick where the actress gets up close and personal with a string of beads, and a guy who once called an ex girlfriends grandmother a "dirty old whore" would be anyones role model. But it's true folks, ever since the summer started I befriended a 16 year old kid named Juan, and because he looks up to me I have desperately tried to alter my behavior around him. Granted, he first started looking up to me for all the wrong reasons. Let me explain: I got into an argument with someone on the court one day, so when this person wanted to fight me outside I accepted their challenge. When we both got outside, crowd in tow, I was about to beat the shit out of this feminine ass looking dude who wanted to scrap with yours truly. In an act of silly machismo, I stuck out my chin and offered my opponent the first shot, and when he took it I said "Oh shit, you hit like a bitch.. I'm about to bury your sissy punching ass!" Thats when Juan tapped me on the shoulder and said, "HumanityCritic, you know that's a girl right??"

Manly looking lesbians who I didn't fight aside, since then I have done my best to be a responsible role model for young Juan whenever I see him. I felt like an actual adult, stressing the importance of prophylactics, to respect his mother especially since she is raising three kids on her own, how a college education is the key, real after school special shit. This is the first time I didn't mind altering my real self because it was for a good cause, the positive molding of a young mind. But I was forced to give young Juan the uncut truth like an uncircumcised porn star, when he asked me a very strange question. He asked me, "HumanityCritic, how do I avoid a fight and not look like a pussy??" Still having my "Heathcliff Huxtable-responsible negro" cap on I said "Who cares what people think?? Fighting is never the answer, and it takes a real man to walk away!!"(I actually said that with a straight face) He saw through my bullshit, and asked the question again very slowly like I was a retarded child who was hard of hearing. So I thought I would be honest with the young man, here are some examples I gave him that I hope he didn't listen to.

Get the Fuck outta Dodge: Even though fleeing from an altercation would indeed make Juan look like a euphemism for a vagina, I still thought I would keep within the "aggressive ways to avoid a fight" motif. Listen, I have rarely if ever avoided a fight in my life, something that doesn't make me particularly tough but foolish, but if telling a young cat about the age old tradition of the "retreat" saves his ass one day, then that's all that I care about. To be honest, this is going to sound silly I know, but I respect someone running more than you would think. I mean, it beats trying to act tough and you mercilessly getting your ass beat, it clearly beats trying to nervously talk your way out of an altercation THEN mercilessly getting your ass beat. But I told Juan that he should only run if he feels outnumbered, because running from one person might end up having panties stuffed in his locker for the rest of his high school career. Earlier I lied, I did run from an altercation a few years ago. I was in a bar and had an extremely heated argument with some black biker dude, something about me having my tongue down his girlfriends throat. Anyway, after noticing that he was there with about 30 of his biker brethren, all armed and all wanting a piece of me, I broke the fuck out of dodge in the most discreet way possible.(You know, knocking over waitresses, hopping over tables..) Its cowardly, I know, but like the great poet William Smith once said in the song "I Think I can Beat Mike Tyson": "A good run is better than a bad stand any day!"


Throat Chop: I know, I know, a throat-chop is a physical strike and hardly seems like the action of a person who is trying to avoid a fight. Let me explain: It is my experience, from age 2 to 32, that most people who you encounter don't really want to fight. Most of the time they just want you to back down just so they can be secure in their masculinity, something that they have probably been insecure about their entire, miserable existence. Even with those people you encounter who want to put you on the business end of a beating, the best way to get out of it I've seen is to chop someone in the throat. Besides the benefits of them dropping to their knees like Lil Kim whenever she is handed a few stray bills, and them gasping for air like David Blaine in that god forsaken fish bowl, most people are so shocked that you hit them in the throat that usually they don't want any parts of you after that. The funniest thing I ever heard, from a 6'6 corn-fed fucker I had issue with, was him clutching his neck screaming: "You bastard!! You hit me in the throat!!....in the THROAT!"


Break something: In my long an illustrious history of putting my shell-toe Adidas in the rectal area of your garden variety douchebag, I have a few idiosyncrasies that I do pre-fight that are pretty fucking silly. One of those, in the few moments before the confrontation commences, is me breaking something in a rage of anger. I've never been the "hit a wall" type, but I couldn't tell you how many times I have been in a bar and either threw a bottle against a wall or broke one over a bar-top before I punched someone in their face. Looking back though, more times than not, this action actually scares the fuck out of the person I was about to fight. Maybe it was the sudden crash, maybe it was the subconscious metaphor that registered in the other person's brain letting them know that I would do the same thing to their face as I did to that bottle, who knows really. But like I told Juan, this isn't a sure fire thing, because I have done the same thing before certain fights and the gentleman in question looked at me like I had just openly admitted to being a P.M Dawn fan.

Punch yourself in the face: When I used to box as a kid, before I would fight another kid, I did what I saw more experienced boxers do pre-fight and that is to punch myself in the face. Not in a reckless way to knock yourself out, but under the chin, hard enough to let the other person know that you mean business. Two decades later, if I feel myself about to smack somebody in the face, I do the same thing. Not really to scare the other person, but more of the "old habits die hard" category. But looking back at my experiences, trying to find something legitimate to tell Juan, I do remember me doing that and scaring the crap out of a few gentlemen. It's silly and most people will just think you are a douchebag, but more times than not a dude willing to punch himself in the face is someone you might not want to tangle with.

Have a great hype man: This is probably the most sure fire way to get out of fights in my opinion, and Juan knew this by my stressed tone when I addressed him. Listen, I couldn't tell you how many times I was in High School, at a party, at a bar, wherever, and I got out of the fight solely on the fact that some random onlooker said something like "Oh shit, HumanityCritic is nice yo. Homeboy is about to get his ass handed to him!!" See, when you are about to fight someone you have this naive feeling that you are the best fighter ever and the guy you are about to face is a fucking weakling. But as soon as someone verifies that person's skill in the aged-old art of fisticuffs, doubt starts to creep in and a few drops of urine might squirt out of you. Shit man, my best hype man was a puertorican chick named Rosa I used to date. She was great, could talk shit with the best of them, and whenever I was about to get in a fight she would tell the other guy "My man is about to rearranged your face, I hope you like eating through a straw for the next couple of months!!" I wasn't that nice with the hands, but it gave me the mental edge where later on that night I would be drunkenly humping Rosa with a glow of victory around me. Damn, I miss that crazy broad.

Video of the Day: Gang Starr: "DWYCK"

There are so many reasons why a chubby pre-ejaculating bastard like myself might pick this particular tune on this day. I don't know, it could be the fact that DJ Premier is the best producer of all time in my humble opinion. It could be because Guru, unlike many MC's who seem to have a shelf life, seems to be getting better with age when it comes to his rhyme skills. It could be the way I always dug the quirkiness of Greg Nice's rhyme style and the pimped out delivery of Smooth B. But most of all ladies and Gents, I picked this song because simply, this is what Hip Hop is all about. Every summer, this one included, you can see me traveling down the road with the wind separating my dreadlocks, nodding my head to this classic.

Pharrell: HP Commercial

I know that I'm probably the biggest hater on the world wide web. I mean, I'm not like some people who act like they are haters but turn around and give glowing praise to "MC butt-fuck and DJ sperm receptacle", I really do hate people because of their proverbial wackness and the gall they have to let their bowel movement called music infect my ears. But I have to give Pharrell love on this beautiful Friday afternoon. Ok, I'm not a fan of the guys music and that is my god given right, but I don't find him morally reprehensible like I do some of the other shit-stains who call themselves "artists" nowadays. But most of all I have to give the guy love because he is the only famous person, who I know of, who gives my hometown of Virginia Beach love. That I appreciate, along with his love for skateboarding. Keep representing.

An open letter to my future wife..

This is embarrassing to admit, but for the longest time I thought I had psychic abilities. No, I couldn't touch a woman's hand and suddenly get a vision of her in a future drunken gangbang with three circus midgets like Anthony Michael Hall's character in "The Dead Zone". I couldn't tell you the future based on dreams that I had, like my vision's of wack artists like Young Jeezy and Rick Ross being subjected to a public caning because of their proverbial wackness. But for the longest time, based on the millions of times I would think of a specific episode of any given rerun, when it would come on television soon after I knew that I had "the gift" so to speak. Even as a kid, like receiving a transcript of a Mary J Blige interview for Christmas, I knew that my gift was indeed a shitty one. But I knew that over time, as I got older and more mature that my power would strengthen to the point that I could solve crimes, prevent deaths due to natural disasters, at best do cool shit like get rich off of lotto or remove women's panties in public with my mind. But now at the age of 32, with so many grey hairs in my pubic area that my crotch is beginning to resemble an ash tray, I have realized that I never had any powers to begin with. Now older and wiser, I realize that my ability to predict certain episodes was just the result of the monotony of local programming back then.

So recently I have been the ultimate scrooge when it comes to anybody claiming that they have Extra-sensory perception, or ESP for people who love acronyms. Like a few years ago I was dating a young lady who claimed that she had "visions" and could see the future, which I doubted from day one, but my disbelief was verified when I fucked her sister on her bed and her being unaware of it until her sister sobbingly admitted to it a couple of months later.(I remember me telling her sister as I ejaculated, "Don't worry, she "saw" this coming a long time ago! Get it? "cumming") Or this street magician I saw at the beach a while ago, a fucking David Blaine wanna be if I ever saw one. Besides decent magic tricks, some levitation, and your garden variety slight of hand magic, I was willing to just leave the guy alone and clap with the rest of the flock of sheep to his antics. But like this girl on my college's basketball team that I used to date and unsatisfied on a regular basis, lets just say that this dude fucked up in the worst way. He claimed that he could tell the future by touching people's hands, he fooled the crowd for a while, but when he touched my hand for a few moments I punched him in the face and screamed "See, if you were real you would have ducked motherfucker!!!"

My asshole tendencies aside, I met a lady over the weekend who was either the real deal, or a woman who has her motherfucking hustle game down to a Tee. I was in Downtown Norfolk working on this comic book with a friend of mine, when I noticed a small building with the words "Psychic: Palm readings and Tarot Cards" on the side. We both entered, I threw down my money, hoping that I would expose yet another fraud who claims they have the "gift". The psychic, a Spanish woman who had to be in her early 50's and quite stunning to be honest, grabbed my hand and then said "I see a lot of anger in your past, a lot of aggression." Being the consummate smart ass I said, "...and that has nothing to do with me having a "Fuck the Police' T-Shit on huh??" She smirked and then said, "Ok, your father died years ago and you foolishly blame yourself, you solve problems with your fists, you love Hip Hop, you've lost weight recently..wait, did you have sex with someone at a wake once??" I pulled my hand away quickly, amazed at what she had just told me, looking at my friend to see if I was being set up. I finally realized, unless this woman is an avid reader of my blog that she is the real deal. I began to get up when I said, "Ok, quickly tell me something else!!" She grabbed my hand and said, "Ok..Lets see..You will meet your wife off the Internet, which is quite sad really." As I was leaving I said, "Quite sad?? If you are so "good" why aren't you in a building bigger than a fucking porta pottie?? Predict these nuts why don't you!! That's sad!" Then I thought out loud, "Wait, you don't know voodoo do you??", in which she responded "I think I see a lock of your hair on my desk!!" Scared as shit, I profusely apologized and said that she was the "unadulterated shit" for the next 5 minutes because I didn't want to wake up with an orange dick.

That got me thinking, "What if I really do meet my future wife off the Internet?? What if the woman who I sexually disappoint until my last breath, the woman who finds men with mountains of porn "sexy", actually someone who currently reads my blog??" That being said, if she does read my blog, I thought I would give her some insight into some of my idiosyncrasies, insight not usually shared on the nappydiatribe. Here goes..

Dear future wife,

Let me just say that I'm glad that despite my violent outbursts, my penchant for triple penetration porn, my run-ins with local police, and the fact that I once fucked someone at a wake, that you still feel that I'm marriage material. To be totally honest, if I wasn't the man in this particular equation, I would advise you to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as possible. Since you have to be the most open minded soul in history to deal with the likes of me, it's only fair that I have the same open door policy when it comes to your past as well. If you used to be a republican, that's ok, as long as you currently feel that Ronald Reagan is the antichrist and that Condoleeza Rice is a bigger fucking sell-out than a "Nirvana" reunion tour with a resurrected Kurt Cobain. If you used to be a porn star, that's ok, as long as you have all your shots and during sex you whisper sweet lies in my ear like how I'm the "Biggest" you've ever had in your life. If you were once a fan of bad Hip Hop like Young Joc or some shit stain of that ilk, that's ok, as long know what time it is now, and every so often pray to the shrine of Rakim that I have in my house.

Listen I know that I will do some things that rub you the wrong way like a dyslexic massage therapist, I know that and hope you can handle my brand of bullshit, but let me tell you a few things that bother the piss out of me so you will know ahead of time. Snuggling, I'm not a fan and probably will never be a fan, sorry. Ok, I'm a fan of snuggling if it leads to penetration or if it is after those fleeting moments post climax where I want to let you know that I don't see you as a total fucking prostitute, but that's it. I'm not a fan of mother-in-laws who have an agenda of hate, it's one thing if I did something to make your mother hate me, but if she hates me for no reason I won't be nice to her for the sake of "taking the high road". Granted, I won't curse her out or pour beer on her, but I can't smile in the face of someone who talks more shit than colostomy bags about me. Also, if you are a nag, do your best to change that before our fateful wedding day for the love of Christ. It's one thing if I didn't do something where I need to be nagged at, but if you nag for the sake of nagging I might do what I did to a girlfriend in college when I was on the business end of a 2 hour nag-fest, and that was to put duck tape over her mouth. Yeah it was wrong, it got even worse when I pulled it off and realized that she was in desperate need of electrolysis, her ass secretly trying to grow a Tom Selleck mustache and shit.

Listen, I'm not trying to keep you barefoot and pregnant, but my goal is to have enough kids to form a basketball team, with a few bench warmers waiting in the wings. I'm not trying to make you my designated cook, because I will share in the culinary duties, but if you want to keep your future man happy I like cheese eggs, hash browns, toast, Orange juice(freshly squeezed) with my newspaper, preferably in bed sugar-tits. I will by no means treat you like a sex slave, but nothing starts my day off right like being awaken by a spirited mouth hug, preferably being done while you hum Chaka Khan "Ain't Nobody". Besides all the perks that come along with being Mrs. HumanityCritic, just imagine all the men over the decades that I will knock out in your honor, some for good reasons like them putting their hands on you, some for bad reasons like me thinking a guy is hitting on you at your family reunion.(It was your cousin)

Last but not least, if I have a blog in the years to come, just imagine how great it will be as I share our sex life with all the people who read my blog. I will tell my readers, because they are family, about that special thing you do with your tongue in bed. I will tell them about your brother's heroin habit, the habit that had him sucking dicks at the airport once. I will even tell my readers how your best friend's private area is a fucking germ farm, one that burns men like her vagina is showing the movie "Back-draft". Come on, isn't it great how I share our personal business with the public??

Anyway sugar, I can't wait until the day we walk down the isle together.

Humanity F Critic.

Video of the Day: Run DMC: "Run's House"

Even though Public Enemy is my favorite Hip Hop group of all time, Run DMC will always hold a special place in my heart. Besides them being one of the most influential acts in Hip Hop history, they ushered in a whole new style of the genre, and on a personal note, the are the sole motherfucking reason that I rock shell-toe Adidas to this day. Man, those guys were the first international rock stars of Hip Hop, telling the other facets of the music industry what I tell woman that I'm about to sleep with about my genitalia, that they are a force to be reckoned with.(Ok, maybe not my genitalia) You know what, as I watch the Mtv show "Run's House" I want to be disappointed and let down but I can't. I can't because I understand that people have to grow, mature, raise families, they can't always be that rebellious twenty something that I grew to love. I respect Run's, excuse me, Rev-Run's transition and the Cosby-like existence that he has molded himself into, I sincerely respect that. But excuse me for missing that fierce microphone wielder, the arrogant and pompous controller of crowds who felt that he could dismantle any mere mortal who had the audacity to battle him on any particular day. Run's attitude at the height of Run DMC was the epitome of swagger, look it up in Websters if you don't believe me, so excuse the fuck out of me if I'm taken aback by the kinder and gentler Joseph Simmons. That being said, I can still relive those moments via VCR, as Run violently exclaims in "KrushGroove": "This is my motherfucking house!!!"


R.I.P Jam Master Jay

What in the fuck happened to Harold Reynolds??

I don't claim to be the biggest baseball fan in the world. Yes I did play little league, I had a .335 average one year and was known to have absolute frozen rope-like accuracy when I threw a ball from the outfield to home plate. Yes I still play slow pitch softball, with a current average of about .445, and I still find myself posing after home-run shots and steam rolling anyone who is in my base path during flyballs. But overall, in the grand scheme of sports, I'm not that much of a baseball aficionado. Granted, in the 2k Baseball PlayStation game that I play daily the record of my New York Yankees is 59-4, with Jason Giambi having 52 home runs and 135 RBI's in the month of June for Christs sake. But again, I'm not the biggest fan of baseball.

I'm more of a casual fan, checking out the baseball highlights on ESPN whenever I'm not stroking it to Internet porn or barely nude pictures of Rosario Dawson. Most of the commentators seem a bit irritating, but the one dude I found somewhat bearable was a dude named Harold Reynolds. He never fell in line with the other sheep on the panel who wanted to regurgitate the same drivel, I remember he was the only one who didn't find the showboating of a little leaguer "Offensive", and he is the only one who didn't overreact to Alex Rodriguez' slump and said that he would "get through it".(I can respect an independent thinker.) So I was taken aback, for a guy who isn't the biggest fan of baseball I may add, when Harold Reynolds was fired from ESPN. The brass at the sports network are very cryptic about his dismissal, some say that it had something to do with an incident sexual harassment of female co-workers(an inappropriate hug apparently), some believe that it has something to do with his conflict with how the show was covering A-Rod, who knows. Here is an excerpt from this recent New York Post article:

After being accused of sexual harassment and fired by ESPN, former "Baseball Tonight" analyst Harold Reynolds said yesterday he doesn't think he did anything wrong and is still hoping to regain his job.

"This was a total misunderstanding," Reynolds told The Post. "My goal is to sit down and get back. To be honest with you, I gave a woman a hug and I felt like it was misinterpreted."

Reynolds declined to give any more details. The woman who accused Reynolds of the sexual harassment is an ESPN co-worker, according to sources.
Yesterday, ESPN confirmed The Post's report that Reynolds had been fired, but they would not comment any further.

"He no longer works here," ESPN VP Josh Krulewitz said.
Still, Reynolds is hopeful ESPN executives will change their minds. Besides being with the network for 11 years, Reynolds had just signed a new six-year contract to remain in Bristol and he recently got married.

Reynolds limited his comments, because he didn't want to go into too many details for fear of saying something that could hurt his chances of reversing ESPN's decision.

Other ESPN Scandals:

Mac Spoof: Performance

A Hip Hop version of "Clerks"...directed by HumanityCritic..

Based on my love for everything Kevin Smith, I'm sure that many of you figured that I would give a glowing review of his latest flick "Clerks 2". I'm pretty sure you envisioned me waxing poetic about the sequel to the movie that sparked my writing interest, me talking about the free flowing dialogue, Kevin Smith's trademark humor, you might have even expected me to verbally bitch-slap any critic who blasted the movie, like this local douche named Mal Vincent, who wouldn't know a good movie if he was on the business end of a gay three way with both Ebert and Roeper, all three of them writhing around in a sea of film while "Citizen Kane" is playing in the background. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely loved the movie, and I'm kind of sad that this post won't enable me to talk about a "Donkey Show", a vagina troll named "Pillow Pants", and the decorum concerning going "ass to mouth" with your lover. But I felt that an all out review would be as predictable a Tyler Perry play, so I thought that I would honor a great movie with my rendition of "Clerks".(Albeit an alternate universe version, where the characters are black and they love Hip Hop)

*Disclaimer: This is satire, based on the original "Clerks" movie where the character of Randal says some outlandish things, so Relax. The following piece doesn't represent my personal feelings, except for me wanting to have sex with Lisa Lisa and Sheila E.)*

(The first few shots consist of Dante opening up the convenience store, stacking papers, putting the coffee on, generally preparing for a day similar to the 1000 he's had before. The opening credits roll to Madvillain's "Great Day")

(The first scene has Dante leaning over the counter, just dreading the rest of his day, waiting for the next customer.)

Randal:(Enters the store doing the whop) "The overweight lover's in the house!!!"

Dante: You're late!!!! What's your excuse today??

Randal: Sorry man, your mother can't get enough of me!! I'll tell you what though, no matter how many times I stick my dick in that geriactric temptress that is your mother, I'll never get used to looking at your baby pictures on her dresser while I come.

Dante: You motherfucker!!

Randal: Exactly! I guess letting you smell my fingers would be out of the question huh?

Dante:(shakes head)

Next Scene:(Jay and Silent Bob dance around wildly to M.O.P's "Ground Zero")

Jay: You know what Silent Bob, the chicks of today that horny dudes drool over don't have shit on the sexy bitches that used to pitch our tents back in the day yo!

Silent Bob:(Nods head in agreement)

Jay: Man I'd give anything to have one sweaty night with Sheila E, she's s drummer yo, atomic handjobs that would rip your motherfucking cock off, in that good way of course. Lisa Lisa, remember those video's where those Latina tits would just talk to a brother? Despite them being ugly and having enough grease in their hair to keep your car's engine lubricated for a calender year, I wanted to be a member of Full Force in the worst way. How about my sweet Jody Watley?? Her sister is the porn star but she is the one I'd really like to know biblically, waxing that sweet ass while I recite that Rakim verse from the song "Friends". One day my hetero life-mate, one day..

Silent Bob:(nodding while staring into the distance daydreaming)

Next Scene:(Dante and Randal are both sitting on the freezer quizzing each other on Hip Hop)

Dante: Here you go: "I'm Hemorrhoid, I'm the leader!!"

Randal: "De La Soul is Dead", that was easy! How about this one: "40 oz dreams and watermelon wishes.."

Dante: (smirking) Ice Cube's "Death Certificate". Here's one: "Just for frontin' you got that AAAASSS whipped!!"

Randal: Jesus Christ man talk about a softball, Jeru the Damaja "Come Clean". Ok, how about this "She Swallowed it, YEAHH!!!!"

Dante: Easy.. From N.W.A's EP "100 miles and running", the song was called "Just don't bite it". And if I'm correct it was track two, which was 5 minutes and 32 seconds long.

Randal: Only you would know the intricacies surrounding a song about digesting semen! I have to keep my eye on you..

Dante. What?? I'm just a fan who knows a lot about..

Randal: ..sucking dick obviously. That explains your love for banana's and the stretch marks around your lips, stay away from me Al Reynolds. I'll be in the video store if you need me.

Next Scene:(After a few minutes at the video store, Randall quickly gets into it with a customer and her movie selections)

Lady: Excuse me, why can't you ring up my movies?? What's wrong with you??

Randal:(doing a crossword puzzle) Sorry ma'am, to square myself with the movie gods above, I can't allow you to rent those. You're welcome to get some more flicks and I'll see what I can do..

Lady: What the fuck!! Ok jackass, what is wrong with what I picked??

Randall: You have movies starring Kevin Hart, Brian Hooks, and LisaRaye..The movie poison trifecta!! Meaning this lady, whenever you see those names attached to a movie you run as fast as possible!!

Lady: Wait a minute, Kevin Hart was in "The 40 year old virgin"!!

Randal: Bit part..

Lady: Hey, I love me some LisaRaye!! Hey, she was in "Player Club", see how much you know!

Randal: Enough said, but let me know why I'm boycotting your favorite B-actress. She gets on my nerves, getting mad at people who just call her "Lisa", not knowing that the "Raye" part is attached like some miscellaneous piece of toilet paper after wiping your ass. Her ass needs to Get some acting lessons and chose better roles first, then people might get her fucking name right.

Lady: How dare you talk about one of our finest actressess like that??!! I'm never coming here again!!! (Throws movies down and runs out the store)

Next Scene: (Randal returns to the Quickshop where Dante is, reading the paper)

Randal: (walking through door) Man you missed it, I mead another customer vacated the premises while shedding tears. I love this fucking job!!

Dante: She must have been a LisaRaye fan, let it go already Randal. Oh Shit, last night Gloria came by for you but you had already went home. What's up with you and her anyways?? Are you two dating??

Randal: Oh heavens no!!

Dante: Why not?? She's pretty, nice, smart, and for some reason she likes your rude ass.. What gives??

Randal: She's white, that's what gives!!

Dante: Come on, I know you aren't racist..

Randal: Of course not, but when I weighed my options when considering dating Gloria, I just thought I'd stick to fucking black chicks who I have less in common with.

Dante:(pausing) I hate to ask, what "options" did you weigh?

Randal: First off, do you know how fucking unsettling it is to watch your own mother bask in her own hypocrisy, smiling it up with your date, even though her main mantra concerning bringing a white girl home has always been "If she can't use your comb you can't bring her home!"?

Dante: Maybe your mothers stance on interracial dating has changed, So?

Randal: How about that looks of disgust black women give you when they see you out with your lady of the Caucasian persuasion? Even though, those same women wouldn't have pissed on me if I was on fire when I was single?

Dante: Again, so fucking what? If you are happy who gives a shit what people think.

Randal: I'm saying, I just hope that people start fully embracing the true message of the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr, that's all.

Dante: You mean civil disobedience, equality for all men, that message man.

Randal: That's what the liberal media wants you to believe. Sure, he was about all those things, but MLK went through what he did, and the reason for the civil rights movement for that matter, was for the sole purpose of black guys of my generation to be able to fuck white girls comfortably without taking a lot of shit because of it.

Dante: WHAT!!!!!!

Randal: Yep, it's just a shame that people haven't fully embraced Dr. King's vision, where "little black boys" will be able to fold up "little white girls" like origami and have people not think twice about it. (looking up in the sky) MLK, we are almost there brother!!

Dante:(head in hands) So you are saying that people risked their lives andf had to go through all those years of struggle just so it would be easier for you to fuck white chicks???

Randal: Exactly, you have to respect our forefathers for that brand of sacrifice.

Dante: You're a fucking idiot..

Randal:(Realising that a customer has been waiting during his lengthy diatribe) Ok sir, that will be seven dollars.

Al Sharpton:(Grabbing groceries, walking out of the convenience store with his mouth wide open)

Fade to black

Video of the Day: The Roots feat. Roy Ayers: "Proceed 2"

The reason why I picked this particular song today is because it is the one tune that you can catch me free-styling to in my car like a bona fide madman. Blue haired old ladies, garbage men, business women, surfer girls, and your garden variety goth dude all look on in amazement as I bust my best impromptu rhyme with aggression, waving my fists like I'm trying to fight some invisible force that doesn't want me to touch my steering wheel. I know that people probably think that I'm nuttier than squirrel shit, but they would freestyle too if they had this tune blaring in their car.