Why didn't you tell me I was like that when I was drunk??

Maybe I was a weird kid destined to have a liver the size of a hickory nut, but I can actually remember wondering what kind of drunk I would be when I became a grown up. Would I be like my grandmother, from what I hear was a very nasty drunk, even though I missed some of her classic drunken moments because I was born too late she did punch me in the face once while she drunkenly attempted to teach me how to fight when I was 6. Or would I be like my father, a dude who could be downright nasty and degrading when he was sober, but as soon as he got some liquor into his system he was the nicest motherfucker in existence. I mean, he was so generous and kind he would make Mr. Rogers look like a stark raving lunatic, emptying out his wallet and giving me and my friends loot to the point that I was probably the only kid in the world who wanted his father to be constantly drunk. But I will say, as it turned out, I'm a pretty well mannered alcoholic if I say so myself. I'm nice to people, I'm the life of the party, I'm quick witted and can talk the underwear off of anything with a pulse and a vagina, and I'm not annoying in the least. So I thought.

For the last few months I have been working out like a fucking triathlete and lowered my alcohol for the sake of losing 20 pounds. Some of you think that I did that to be healthier, because hypertension, heart attacks, because diabetes runs in my family, or even because I wanted to be smaller again so I could start fucking skinny chicks again. Wrong on all counts, I lost weight because I read in a magazine that getting rid of your gut would make your cock look bigger, so if a fucking optical allusion can make some dirty tramp think that I am packing more heat than the devil's gay lover, then so be it. But also, being sober more times than not nowadays, I have learned from some of my friends that I'm not the cool guy that I thought I was when I 'm intoxicated. I have learned something very unsettling, a sobering(pun intended) slap in the face so to speak, the behavior that I thought was the epitome of "cool" was just me acting like a baboon's ass for all the world to see. Here are some of the things, according to my friends, that I do when I'm drunk.

I tend to Freestyle: I don't know what it is, but whenever I have had my fair share of drinks I start thinking that I am KRS One or some shit. I couldn't tell you how many times I have ended a bar-room argument by slapping the table and saying "Come on, let's go outside and battle bitch!!" like I was the human embodiment of the movie "Beat Street". Even when I have been to some shit kicking country bars with my best friend Danny, I have challenged red-neck-tobacco chewing-Toby Keith fans to a spirited match of verbal jousting, even grabbing the karaoke microphone and saying "Come on Bill Ray Cirus, you won't be talking that shit once I dazzling you with a metaphor, smack you around a bit with a few similes, even assassinate your ass with an astounding amount of alliteration!!(grabbing the mic like a gun, imitating Dirty Harry) Come on, give me a reason!!!" The sad part about all this is what happened when I did find some guy that accepted my free style challenge.. As he started rapping he was ripping me to shreds, something a wanna-be wordsmith like me didn't expect, so I knew I had to come with the proper artillery. So when it was my turn, knowing that I was defeated, I did what any man would do in my situation..I sucker punched that motherfucker, standing over him and raising my hands like Rocky Balboa screaming "I win!! I win!!!"

I have a severe case of Beer-goggles: When it comes to looks I never claimed to be a matinee idol or anything, just an average looking guy who has been fortunate enough to have women above my "pay grade" let me penetrate them occasionally. I mean, my self-esteem isn't totally in the crapper, if me and Biz Markie were to stand side by side and you were forced to pick one to sleep with I like my motherfucking chances, but I don't think I turn heads so to speak. But when I have had a few drinks in me I am what you call an equal opportunity employer when it comes to the chicks that I will try to get with. It's to the point that my boys will call me "Shallow Hal", because regardless if your are blind, cripple, or crazy, HumanityCritic will let you be a part of his illustrious "stable" if he is under the influence. You know, I'm not particularly mean to people if it's not provoked, but when a woman that I tried to get with when I was drunk tapped me on the shoulder and asked me "Why didn't you ever call me?", when I turned around and saw her face I uncharacteristically coiled back and screamed "Jesus fucking Christ!!!".

I Attempt to B-Boy: When I was a kid I loved to get my dance on, dazzling the white boys in my catholic school with my popping skills, my locking abilities, and superior groundwork that would make that Kelly chick from "Breakin'" turn me into a man while Chaka Khan's "Ain't nobody" plays in the background. Lets just say that I got a bitter dose of reality when I went to visit my cousins in Queens and got served up by real B-Boys, who knew years before I did that that "Breakin'" movie was unadulterated bullshit, laughing at my "signature" break-dancing move that I busted upon them. What move you ask? Ok, I would do a pop move, bring it down, raise up my shirt and roll my stomach, bring it down to my legs and then bring it back up again. I thought it was dope, but I quickly realized two things. 1)That I was a terrible dancer and 2)That the white kids in my catholic school were an extremely easy crowd.

Anyway, when I'm drunk I suddenly think that I am an official member of the Rocksteady crew, exuding a confidence only exhibited by Michael Jordan or the criminally insane. Imagine this, a chubby bastard trying to look graceful but actually looking like he is having a seizure, attempting back-flips and other such ariel maneuvers that a man of my girth shouldn't even attempt without wearing football gear, a mat to land on, and a professional spotter. I couldn't tell you how many times I have been awoken to a friend's phone call saying, "Hey, if you are sore this morning it's because you tried a backflip off of the stage and landed on your head. It was cool for a moment, because for a split second you when your dreads were scattered across the floor you looked like a black mop." Oh, and yes you guessed it, I always incorporate my "signature" move in all my drunken B-Boy sessions.


I talk women's panties back on: If I had a dime for every time I heard a chick say, "You know the other night I was going to fuck your brains out but you fucked it up!!!" I would be Donald Trump rich, ok, Donald Faison rich. Being that I just knew that my pick-up lines had sniper-like accuracy, and the fact that I would usually black the fuck out after a heavy night of drinking, I had no idea what the fuck these women were talking about when they would say such things. That was until a few things came back to me like a George Bush Vietnam flashback, you know the ones where he avoided going to war and spent most of his time sniffing blow off of some chicks leg, I realized that my drunken behavior prohibits me from counting the pimples on the booty of someone that I planned to sexually frustrate. Like the time a chick had agreed to go back to my house and I said: "You know, let's just go outside and fuck in the backseat of my car. It's warm in there, I have chips you can snack on, and we can just cut through all the awkwardness of me shoving you the fuck out of my door at 4 A.M. What do you say sugar-tits??" Or the time when this hot little number was whispering what she would do to me in my ear later on that night, getting me harder than Chinese math and shit, I thought I would whisper sweet nothings in her ear as well. I leaned over and whispered in her ear: "Ohh baby, you know what I'm going to do to you when I get home?? I'm going to let you go down on me and I won't reciprocate. I'm going to gyrate on you like a toddler having a seizure, then clumsily ejaculate around 2 minutes later. Baby, you are going to want me to finish but I will fall fast asleep as you lay wide awake wondering if you felt anything at all. On top of that I will never call you, I will ignore you if I ever see you in public after that, and if you try to confront me on it I will act like you are a complete stranger. So how about it, your place or mine??"

Video of the Day: A Tribe Called Quest: "Bonita Applebum"

As corny as this is going to sound, sometimes I feel that my life is a motion picture and the various Hip Hop tunes that I play ad nauseum are just the accompanying soundtrack. Whenever I am about to beat some bastard into oblivion, I can hear some ultra aggressive M.O.P tune deep in the recesses of my brain. Whenever I am in the middle of some heated political discussion where I am verbally decapitating some ass-hat republican, "Welcome to the Terrordome" by Public Enemy is the musicthat is playing. But whenever I see some woman that I am fond of, flashing her beautiful smile in my direction, her and I exchanging glances as I try to nonchalantly check out how phat her ass is, "Bonita Applebum" is the song playing in my head when all of this is going on. If I decide to approach said female, and months later we are in relationship bliss, taking romantic walks in the park only stopping to have a picnic where her and I steal kisses between bites of food, "Bonita Applebum" is still the song that plays in the background. Surprisingly, this song is noticeably absent when the woman in question is breaking up with me because I fucked her sister on the bed we share. Oh well..

For the tech Nerds(like myself): The Sony Mylo

Things that I have done to make a woman break up with me..

(I'm certain that this post will drop my female readership by at least 50%, but here goes) Besides an occasional throat-chop here and there to your garden variety Uncle Tom black republican, or a random profanity laced tirade in the direction of a member of the clergy, I have matured leaps and bounds since those carefree days of my early 20's. For one thing I don't pay for sex anymore which is a good thing, but the downside to that are all the lonely Saturday nights and I miss going to the clinic each week feeling like "Norm" from "Cheers" and shit.(Patients and nurses at the STD Clinic: "HUMANITYCRITIC!!!") I also don't fuck midgets anymore, not saying that normal sized men can't have relations with vertically challenged women, it's just that I now see that making them wear orange wigs and sing the "Umpa-Lumpa" song while having sex can be a tad bit demeaning. But the one area of my life that I'm glad that I have matured is in my ability to be honest with a woman, and break it off like a man if things aren't particularly going as planned.

It sounds silly, I guess cowardice would be a more accurate description, but for the longest time I had a problem breaking up with women because I didn't want to be the "bad guy".(Which is pretty ironic because I usually was the bad guy, you know, fucking the sisters, college room mates, even aunts of woman that I called my "girlfriend" at the time.) Yes, I was a steaming pile of excrement, but worse than my philandering ways were the elaborate schemes I would concoct for a chick to break up with me just so I could escape the relationship guilt free. Looking back I see that I could have just saved a lot of time and energy if I was just honest with those women, told them that I wasn't happy and gave them their walking papers. But don't worry ladies, the 2006 version of HumanityCritic is nothing like he was back in his early 20's. I stand before you, actually sit before you typing this on a computer so full of porn that Larry fucking Flint would shake his head in disapproval, as a grown man that is willing to break it off with a woman in an honest and orderly fashion.(Granted, I usually do it right after sex, but that's semantics if you ask me.) I'm not proud of this, but here are a few schemes that I came up with so women would break up with me.

HumanityCritic the Bed-wetter: One of the ways I got a girl to break up with me was to make her believe that I was a bed wetter. I didn't actually urinate in the bed, but I made sure to pour a cold glass of water around our sleeping area as liberally as possible. The first time I did it I almost woke her up based on my loud school-girl giggles, just imagining her disgust when she rose in the morning to find herself in what she believed to be HumanityCritic's urine. Let me tell you, it worked like gangbusters, being awakened to her hitting me on the back screaming "Motherfucker, you pissed the bed!!!! YOU PISSED THE MOTHERFUCKING BED!!!!!" I should have won a fucking Oscar that morning as I acted all innocent, saying "Baby, it was an accident.. Why are you being like this?? Hey, how are you going t let a little urine get between us??" I still remember her slamming her sheets into her washing, muttering the words "How you gonna piss my bed, dirty son of a bitch!!" under her breath. Granted, we stayed together a few weeks after that, but after a few "pissy" sheets later I could see in her eyes that the novelty of Humanity F Critic had worn off significantly, I guess being doused with what you believe to be piss can do that to a girl. The downside to that is her telling anyone that would listen that I was a bed-wetter, which meant that no woman in the entire state of Virginia would come within a square mile of me, let alone touch my dick. Those few that would let me see them naked ordered me out of their house before sunrise.

I knocked out a woman's father: Some years ago I dated a woman who's father was a professional boxer at one time, around the depresion as far as I know. A decent enough older fellow, but every time I would see him he would get in my face on some "I bet I can beat your young ass!!" shit. For a guy like myself who thinks that anyone is eligible for an ass-whipping, I kept my cool and laughed off the old fucks challenge because I didn't want to endanger the relationship that I had with his daughter. I swear, this old man was a one trick pony, because every time I saw him he would challenge me to a fight and test my man-hood, and every time I would laugh him off and walk away. That was until my then girlfriend started becoming a bona fide psycho, accusing me of cheating, getting women's phone numbers, being on the business end of a mouth hug, all things I was indeed guilty of but she had no way of knowing that!! Since she was making me as uncomfortable as Lil Kim in a nun's uniform, I had to get out of that relationship as soon as possible, and that opportunity presented itself when her father challenged me to a fight for the last time at one of her family gatherings. He came up to me, put his hands up and said, "HumanityCritic, I bet I could still kick your ass..." *Pow* Before he could even finish his geriactric sentence I laced him with an uppercut which caused his false teeth to go flying and him to fall out in the fetal position. While he was down, only because it was a reflex and not because he was an old man, I kicked him in the stomach for good measure. Everyone came to his aid, his wife and my then girlfriend were screaming at me "What did you do??!!", some of his teenage nephews attempted to defend his honor but then thought otherwise after I tapped them with a few well placed jabs, the whole fucking family reunion was in utter chaos.

Suffice it to say she broke up with me right there, all I remember is me walking off saying "You think I give a fuck if he is 65 or not??!!"


Made her wonder if I was gay or not: This one girlfriend, because of the fact that she was a soulless harlot that I'm certain came from the depths of hell, I made believe that there was a possibility that I was gay. I know, I should have just told her the truth and dropped her ass like a one armed wide receiver, but the premise of what I was about to do was just too funny and I'm a fan of keeping myself entertained. The first thing I did was state in a perfectly clear fashion as many times as possible to say that "homosexuals shouldn't be discriminated against" and that "homophobia has to stop", sentiments that I believe by the way but I said it so many times that even a gay person would raise his eyebrows based on my overly passionate stance concerning gay rights. Before sex I would act like I was joking and say, "Hey, wouldn't it be interesting if you put this fake mustache on and I called you "Gary"??" I guess the last straw was after a night of passion, me thrusting like a retarded rabbit, and me yelling out my imaginary jail number mid-climax: "Oh Shit.. Inmate:223XRGY678!!" Yeah, me and her weren't together much longer than that, and again women wouldn't come within miles of me for a while after that.

Video of the Day: Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince: "Brand New Funk"

I never thought that I would damn near get into an all out brawl over any cast member of "The Wild Wild West", but it almost happened a few weeks ago. I was in some trendy ass bar downtown, minding my business damaging my liver and flirting with the bartender with breasts that could feed all the children in a third world country, when I heard a few younger cats talk about their favorite Hip Hop artists. I was surprised at how I behaved myself, I mean, I actually didn't openly object when they waxed poetically about their love for the "Dipset", "Yung Joc", that gorilla looking "T-Pain" character, and other inferior groups of that ilk. I didn't say anything, I just kept my eyes fixed on this bartenders tits like it was a teleprompter and I was Tom Brokaw. That was until I heard one of those young cats start talking about Will Smith and how "soft" his music was. That's when I got up, stood in the middle of those 4 gentleman and said, "The next person who talks shit about Will Smith, I swear, I'm going to break their fucking jaw!" One of them said, "Yeah, but there is four of us and one of you!!", in which I responded "I can add motherfucker, but you have to decide if you want to be the one that's sipping his meals through a fucking straw for the next couple of months!!"

One of the guys said, "Why do you care about Will Smith so much?" I said, "I don't, but you guys were just going on and on about acts that suck complete cock. I mean, come on, the more and more you jackasses go on and on about acts that I personally feel scrape the bottom of the artistic barrel, the more and more I appreciate Will Smith as REAL Hip Hop!!!" Nothing happened, but as I left I told the guys "You inbred sons of bitches have to check out Will Smith's "Brand New Funk", similar to the way a church lady would tell someone that they "Need Jesus".

Hey HumanityCritic, what in the fuck are you doing with this in your ipod? Culture Club: "Do you really want to hurt me"

Since I openly admitted in an earlier post that I made a lover think I was gay so she would break up with me, I felt that this was a very fitting segue. I know, I know, this particular selection might seem like a curious one based on an IPOD with the likes of Run DM.C, M.O.P, Rakim, and Otis Redding in it, but I like "The Culture Club" to be perfectly honest. I guess being a kid who watched Mtv in it's infancy when the only black acts they played were Prince and Michael Jackson, this is probably one of those groups that I was forced to be exposed to, an exposure that I don't particularly mind because of my broad musical tastes currently. Plus, I have Boy George to thank on a couple of occasions when I needed something snazzy to say to a girl when I did have the balls to break up with her.

On more than one occasion, when a girl in question didn't want to break up because of the length of time we had been together, I would always say: "Girl, I quote Boy George when he said "Time won't give me time/ And time makes lovers feel/ Like they've got something real" Girl, You think Boy George would bullshit you!!??" A couple of years ago Boy George was in town to do a show, score some blow, something, and I saw him walking down the boardwalk of my local beach. I wasn't sure if it was him, the make-up was gone, he gained some weight, was bald, and he looked like a New York cab driver for christs sake. Regardless, with my girlfriend at the time in tow, I sang "Do you really want to hurt me, do you really want to make me cry" right beside him. Then on cue, making my girlfriend laugh hysterically he said sarcastically "Now that's gay!!!" He's so lucky that I'm a fan..

These are the kind of debates I like..

Did I ever tell you how I was kicked off of my college debate team? Actually, not saying that I was a glass licking retard or anything, but I had no business being on any debate team at the time. I mean, if you needed a guy to debate the importance of John Hughes movies, Hip Hop, or the finer art of pre-ejaculation, then I could debate with the best of them. Besides that, my utter lack of knowledge and a world view that extended a little past the Carolina's should have kept me off of any debate team. But I guess the debate coach loved my passion, my quick wit, and the belief that I still hold, similar to the character of Nick Taylor in the movie "Thank you for smoking" that "if you argue correctly, you're never wrong." The one problem that I had almost immediately was my temper during debates, if someone argued a great point I wouldn't get upset, but if someone gave me as much as a subtle dis the debate would usually end with me saying "Who in the fuck do you think you are talking to??" A few profanity laced tirades and me jumping over a table during one debate a punching a nerd in the face after he questioned my intelligence later, I found myself off the debate team. I'm glad that they put my debate career out of its misery, because I could have ended up like that chubby bastard in the video, throwing chairs and whatnot.(Even though, I am a chubby bastard who throws throat-chops.. I guess those in glass houses..)

What comes to mind when I hear these songs..

One of the worst things about me, besides having an undersized penis that would make a white woman point and scream "My parents aren't speaking to me because of that!!" if I ever dated inter-racially, is my extremely poor memory. I don't know if it is the years smoking some of the finest street horticulture my area had to offer, or the fact that my mother drank cheap wine when she was pregnant with me, but if there was an award entitled "The motherfucker most likely to forget your name" I would win that coveted prize every year I was nominated. In an age where there should be compassion for individuals with handicaps, people aren't too sympathetic when it comes to my specific problem. I mean, just because I have forgotten loved ones birthdays, the ring that I was supposed to hold on to when I was the best man at a friends wedding, and the names of lovers mid and post coitus, suddenly I am the bad guy??(Try calling a woman another name while in the missionary position..)

The only thing that helps me when it comes to recalling people, places, or events, is simply, music. I couldn't tell you how many times I have uttered the phrases, "I can tell you when she broke up with me because that is when "Midnight Marauders came out.", "I fucked my first Spanish broad in 1988, because I remember pre-ejaculating to Doug E Fresh's "The World's Greatest Entertainer", or "I had in-house ass in 1990 when my parents let some chick stay with my family for a year. I'm certain about that, you never forget getting blown to Dee Lite's "Groove is in the Heart"!!" That's how I suppose you all feel as well, as soon as you hear a specific piece of music it takes you back to a time and place so vividly you feel like Scott Bakula on some "Quantum Leap" shit. Here is what I think about when I hear the following songs.

Jagged Edge: Song: "Where the party at": It was the summer of 2001, my father had just died a few months earlier, my mother was just diagnosed with cancer, and I had just received the proverbial pink slip form a woman that I was dating for the last 5 years. In an emotional spiral, I was chin-checking(West coast term for fighting) fools on a nightly basis in a drunken stooper, I was smoking so much weed that Cheech and Chong themselves would plan an intervention for me, and I was fucking so many dirty whores in an attempt to forget about my heartbreak I was certain that Sally Struthers would do a heartfelt commercial to get Americans to donate some money to save my penis. You know how it is when you are on the business end of a breakup, as you suffer in silence with happy thoughts of driving your car off of a fucking cliff, all you can imagine is your ex having the best sex of her life now that she is done with a chubby scribe who happened to hum the "Smurfs" theme song while he ejaculated. The song "Where the Party at?" just seemed to epitomize all the fun I imagined she was having now that I was out of the picture, her new boyfriend discovering new territory that I didn't have the phallic size to find myself, her and her girlfriends sitting beside a pool somewhere having "Fuck HumanityCritic" parties as my ex tells lovely stories like the time I pissed the bed once, invoking a chorus of laughter from her heartless friends.. Anyway, hearing this song was the worst form of punishment.

A Tribe called Quest: Song: "Scenario": The last few weeks of my father's life, when the cancer was rapidly taking his life, I took the selfish approach of not seeing him as often as I should have. I know it's wrong, and I probably missed the opportunity to possibly have some heart to heart talks that would have stayed with me for the rest of my life, but based on our shaky past I wanted to avoid any death bed "You ain't shit" speeches at all cost. But luckily for me, when I decided to see him and take that final step to make peace with my father, the old guy decides to die right in front of me. It's weird, even though he was knocked out for the better part of the day and had at least 20 visitors prior to my arrival, I always felt that he waited for me to get there to leave this earth. The memories are etched on my cerebellum like a bad tattoo of an ex lover's name, me and my mother standing beside my father as his temperature began to rise rapidly. The nurses rushing in, pouring buckets of ice on my father's then withered body as I hold my mother in my arms, only moments later I hear that sound that any garden variety idiot who ever watched a Hospital drama knows..Flat-line.. As the nursed left and I consoled my mother in the next room for a few minutes, only to go back into my father's hospital room, clutching his face and sobbingly whispering in his ear "I'm sorry for being such a horrible son..I'll see you on the other side old man" ,soon after heading to my car.

It was pouring down raining as I ran to my vehicle, my legs feeling like they were about to give out with every step. As I got to my car and struggled with my keys for a moment, I hopped in and when I turned on the radio A Tribe Called Quest's song "Scenario" was on. Driving fast for no reason, navigating through the elements and bad Virginia drivers, I remember rapping along with the song that I had loved since the first time I heard it. I'm talking about hand motions and everything, rapping the words verbatim, only to sobbingly say "I fucking love this song!!" during the chorus. Weirdly enough, after the song was over I remember going to some random gas station and buying some beer. I recall politely listening to the cashier who was gushing over the fact that her daughter had recently graduated from college. I stood there for minutes as she went on and on, but I'll tell you what, boring ass conversation never felt so soothing.

Even though I think about a negative experience when I hear that classic tune, I still love that song to death.

Gangstarr: Song: "Just to get a rep": In another life, more than a decade and change ago, I was, *gulp*, a rapper. I had dreams of grabbing the microphone in front of thousands of people, putting out scathing diss records about any miserable wanna-be wordsmith that even mentioned my name in passing, and having a bevvy of slutty admirers who I could clumsily penetrate whenever the fuck I wanted to. A boy had dreams, and to make these dreams become a reality I would go to New York a few times a year to record demos and "Network". I had been to the Big Apple a few times before, and being a cocky kid from the mecca of street life that is Virginia Beach Virginia I felt that N.Y wasn't that big of a deal. Plus if someone tried to come in my face with that bullshit I would show that bastard that just because the word "Beach" is in the city that I am from, I shouldn't be slept on by any means. Well, you know what happens to people who get too big for their britches?? They get robbed!!! That's right, I was somewhere in Brooklyn probably smelling like fresh meat, possibly coming off like Jethro from "The Beverlyhillbillys" and shit, so some young cat decided to rob me of my all my shit.

He came out of nowhere, stuck a gun in my face and said "Run it yo!!" Even though I had heard that term in songs many times before, having a gun 6 inches from your face tends to make you forget current slang, so I really sounded like I was from Virginia Beach when I said "Run what? You want me to run somewhere??" He gripped the gun tighter and said, "Give me all your shit or I will shoot you dead motherfucker!!" As someone who had encountered men with guns before, even foolishly punching a gentleman who pulled a gun out on me at a party years earlier, I looked this dude in the eyes and I could tell that he meant business. Plus, we were kind of in an alley where we weren't completely visible, so shooting me in the cabbage and getting away with it seemed pretty do-able. But still, because I'm an idiot who has a death wish I said, "Man, I bet you a million dollars that without that gun you are a pair of fucking panties!!" All that macho shit went out the window when he shot the gun right beside my ear, *POW*, so after that aggressive statement of sorts I slowly started emptying the contents of my Cross Colors jeans. When I'm nervous I belt out rap tunes, so as I handed him all of my food money I had brought for my New York trip, I uttered the chorus from Gangstarr's "Just to get a Rep:": "Stick up kids is out to get tax!!!..Stick up kids is out to get tax!!" After he was satisfied with what I gave him and put his gun down he said, "Gangstarr right? I fucking love those guys!" and began to run off. That's when I said, "Hey, since we have similar tastes in music how about giving me some of my money back!! A brother has to eat!!" That's when he turned his head mid-jog and said, "You know, I can still shoot you!!"

Dee Lite Song: "Groove is in the heart": Ladies and Gentlemen, when I was 17 years old I had "in-house" like a motherfucker. My parents had befriended this woman from Nova Scotia so she stayed with us for an entire year, a caramel complected temptress named Sherry who is the sole reason that I get a chubby for any woman from Canada or near Canada. Sherry was 29, so I just knew that I wasn't going to get anywhere with her, so my "Hey baby, my dick will touch your small intestines!" lines were just lip service to a woman who I felt only wanted men her own age. So I thought, because one late night I found myself thrusting on top of a woman 12 years my senior like a drugged up test bunny as my dear parents were upstairs fast asleep, unaware that their baby was getting violated in the best ways possible. I love my folks but man were they clueless, her sneaking in my room late night, me muffling her screams as I gave her the "Gyrating beef machine" on top of my He-Man bedsheets, it was so blatant that I knew that we would get caught and my mother would beat her AND me.

She had this thing where she would come in my room in the morning after my parents went to work and give me a "mouth hug" to the Dee Lite song "Groove is in the Heart". Maybe because I was just a kid, or possibly its a testament to her oral skill, but I have to be honest with you and say that I would climax before Q-Tip started rapping. Yeah, whenever I hear this song I reminisce of how a 29 year old woman took advantage of an insecure 17 year old boy, treating his body like her own amusement park at her leisure, doing things to him that would probably scar him for life.. By the way, I wouldn't trade any of that shit for the world.

This week's episode of "HumanityCritic's Asshole Moments"

Despite the words that escape our lips or even appear on our blogs, it is my opinion that people, as a whole, want to be genuinely liked. I mean, as many times as we say that we don't care what people think, you still would like to be a person that people don't mind being around. Listen, I am at peace with people hating me because I chopped them in the throat and snatched the chain off their necks because they talked shit to me, or the many people who hate on this blog because they are either testicle-less cowards or are women who have that stench of death between their legs, so be it. But at the end of the day we all want people to like us, want our opinions to be valued, want people to cherish the friendships that they have with us. Shit, I don't want people at my funeral saying glowing things about me, only for the people in attendance who really knew me to giggle like school girls at the lies being told. Because of this I have made an honest effort to be less of an insufferable prick, but it seems that I can't stop pissing people off. I don't do it on purpose, my mother calls in diarrhea of the mouth because shit flies out of my mouth with reckless abandon, but I seem to rub people the wrong way like a dislexic massage therapist. Last week was a definite setback on my road to political correctness, here are a few examples.

"Mo'nique": People can be scary when it comes how much they like a celebrity, I found this out the hard way last week when I was at a friend's barbecue. I was having a decent conversation with some woman about movies and T.V, we had a lot in common when it came to our personal tastes that I just knew I would one day tell a "..and then she took off her Lane Bryants.." story to tell my friends some time in the future. That was until she went on and on about how she wanted to see some movie entitled "Shadowboxer" where Mo'nique plays a crackhead. My eyes opened wide and I said to the woman, "Mo'Nique plays a crackhead??!! What is she smoking, turkeys??!!" The look on her face after I said that could have cut me in half, soon after she grabbed her plate of food and stormed off while uttering "Bitch ass motherfucker!!" to herself. Hell, I didn't know a Mo'nique fan of that magnitude even existed, Oh well.

My friends pornstar girlfriend: My friend Andre, a dude who I have written about before, has been dating a well known black porn star for over a year now. Sure it was weird at first, being around a woman who I have mercilessly "jerked it" to a million times before, but I really got used to her and I find her to be an amazing person. Let me be honest, she is cool, but I only hang with her because when she's drunk she shows me her tits.(I love boobies!!!) Anyway, recently her, Andre, and myself had went to this trendy restaurant to get something to eat. I forgot what she ordered but it had banana's on it, which made her frown up and say "Ewww, I hate banana's!! I can't stand the taste one bit.." I wasn't trying to piss her or Andre off, which I ended up doing anyways, but I didn't think I was being offensive when I said: "Wait a minute, I once saw a flick where you let three guys splooge in your mouth while you spent the next few moments playing with it, even digesting it when it was all said and done. Not for nothing, but you are the last person in the world I figured for a "picky eater"!" Lets just say the rest of the night was surprisingly quiet after that.

Just a friendly game of Softball: Last week I was in a softball game for my local team that I've played for off and on over past couple of years. The game was going fine in my eyes, I hadn't pissed anyone off or done anything offensive, so as I stepped up to bat in the 9th inning I did so feeling that I had turned a leaf so to speak. I waited for the first pitch, it was too high, waited for the second pitch, it was too low, the third pitch was perfect so I decided to put all my energy behind my swing and see what happened. As soon as I connected with the ball I knew it was a home run, so I stood there for at least 5 seconds in my best Barry Bonds pose and watched it sail over the fence. I slowly jogged the bases, pumping my fists, spinning, pointing at the other team like I had their number, even jumping on home plate to make my point even that much clearer. When I got to the dugout my teammates looked at me in disbelief, because at that time we were now down 16 to 1.

Angry Lesbian: I saw this girl named Jenny that I went to High School with last week at a club that I frequent. She immediately informed me that she was a lesbian now, a fact that I already knew, because she had been shunned by some people because of it and wanted to tell me up front. I assured her that I didn't give a fuck, that I'm tolerant of other people, and that I'm nothing like those knuckle-dragging son's of bitches that we went to High School with. We had a delightful conversation discussing old times, that is when I noticed a young woman circling us like she was a fucking shark and we were her prey. As I was about to say something to this broad Jenny touches me on the arm and says, "Don't mind her, that's my girlfriend Carla and she is a bit of the jealous type.." I nodded and we continued taking for a while, that is when Carla, a woman who had a striking resemblance to that singer of the 1980's Alexander O'Neal, came up on me and said "Don't get any idea's motherfucker, that's my girl and she isn't interested in men anymore. Got that!!??" I should have let it go, just grinned and ignored what she had said, but I couldn't since I'm Humanity F Critic. I turned to Carla and said: "The only reason that Jenny is a lesbian in the first place is because she has had so many men run up in her that she is desensitized by dick!!! Man, you know a girl is "out there" when you know 30 guys personally that she has slept with. She loved the cock, craved it, hell, if she was running for president back then she would be running on a "Pro-Cock" platform. So yeah, I would be insecure like a motherfucker if I was you as well!! You got that!" I turned to Jenny and she had a look of horror on her face, lets just say our nice conversation was abruptly cut short.

Video of the Day: Black Sheep: "Strobelight Honey"

Probably one of the most popular songs about "beer goggles", I always loved this song because of the unadulterated truth of it. Have you ever been in a club and you were fixated on some hot temptress across the room, the entire night the both of you exchange flirtatious glances that you know is going to lead to her counting ceiling tile later, only to be disappointed later when the lights come on and you find out that the woman in question looks like a baboons ass. Ladies, I'm pretty sure you have encountered the same thing, upset that the guy you thought was handsome actually looks like Biz Markie when the ugly lights come on. Everyone can relate. But since I'm in a slump currently, and haven't had a steady stream of ass since the end of the Clinton administration, beggars can't be choosers right about now, no matter how she looks in a better light.

Yet another sign of the apocalypse..People using Youtube videos as diss records..

Right when I thought that I had too much time on my hands, writing in this silly blog that a plethora of people hate on like it's their fucking birthright, downloading excessive amounts of porn and masturbating to said filth like my testicles have an expiration date on them, there is always some bastard that assures you that your life is worth living and that you aren't a total waste of semen. Whenever you feel down, question your existence in this world, or feel like a complete steaming pile of Elephant shit, just go over to youtube and feel better about yourself based on the countless douche-bags making video's nowadays. This particular video is of a gentleman named "LazyDork"(fitting name) as he battle raps some chick with the amazingly original handle of "Lonelygirl" Not exactly LL Cool J vs. Kool Moe Dee, hell, it isn't even MC Hammer vs. A Tribe called Quest, but you will feel better about your station in life after watching it.

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)