Time keeps on slippin'...slippin'...slippin'...

I love this time of the year.

The cold breaks; The flowers bloom and ahhhh yes...tax returns.

Currently, I'm greasin' up the wifey to just accept the fact that the arrival my macbook pro is pretty much imminent.

Yeah...she hate me.

Thing is, as a geek there are few things that get me hyphy in life. Sad but true. The macbook pro is pretty much the closest I will get to sexin' something outside of the "circle of two"(me and my PC)

So...

The countdown to whoring myself out begins.

yawwwwwwwn.
Oh.
Wow.

You're still here?!

Well...*looks at calendar* looks like a couple of months have passed since I've checked in. I guess thats part of "blogging" right?

Well, I don't call the page idiosyncratic for nothin'.

drummmmmmmmrolllllllll please!!!!!!!



So there's this able-bodied ass-wipe in my hood that cockblocks the public handicapped parking space as if he was a paraplegic. No problem...I'm not disabled(jah bless) so I could give a rat's ass what he gets away with.

Until recently that is.

Last week the guy decided to cross very wide line it takes to actually piss me off. Before we get into my confrontation w/ him though; As a sidenote - About a year ago my Mom had to put dude in check a due to him stepping up and yapin' off that she couldn't park in the handi spot(Mom has a pass due to her movin' big ma around).

Yeah. That episode was nasty...Lets just say Mom needed a some new pumps afterward...cause she left one in his ass.

>> >> Fast-forward last week.

So that night before the jump-off I parked next to the handi-section w/ my back tire a foot into the blue paint. There are two handi-sections connected, and this dude uses one; the other is always open.

Always.

I jump in the car the next morning and find an incoherent germanesque accented post-it® note from guy that took 3-4 reads to decipher what the hell he was trying to say. In a nutshell...Acording to him I was lucky that the parking police/patrol car wasn't called and if I ever tried it again my ride would be booted-and-towed.

Really?

You know, as another side note...One of the many great things about being a 6'2" Black man is the fact that it's uber-easy to flip "the switch" and intimidate my caucaian brothers and sisters.

Back to the story.

I would have actually knocked on his door but being that it was 5:30a.m. and I was already late for work I digressed. Later in the afternoon after work, I found myself knockin' at his front door daring him to call the police so both of us could laugh at how is pathetic his able-bodied lazy life had come to the point of threatening someone because of a back tire taking up 1/10th of his space.

I handed over my celly and paused for his reaction.

Long story short, he bitched out went on a rant about how he's tired of people parking in handi-spaces...*sigh* talk about an anti-climax. Ready for a showdown and being let down I turned my back to the sobbing bastard and I threw up the finger while yelling how I can never find parking at LAX because half the spots are handi. I live with it...and so should he.

Fucker.

Next week: Politics @ Work in Orange County

I'm sure all of us experience times of deep doubt.

There may be times when we fall short of expectation; whether that be your own or someone else’s (sort that shit out on your own time)

Sometimes you may go as far as to think that if you departed his earth...no one would be the wiser.

I am with you in spirit my friend.

After this sentence your life will change for the better. I present to you:

http://grouphug.us/

This confession site makes an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting seem like match.com...not that I've done either. If I can put it in words it's like watching "Faces of Death" for the first time. Over and over again. And over.

You have jewels like anonymous poster: 266399417

"when i was 13 there was this color blind kid in my art class called joey

we had art and he had been drawing this picture for 5 weeks it really was a masterpiece

anyway he had this pot of crayons that had labels on with the name of the color

when he wasnt looking i switched the labels and he started coloring everthing in different colors (he colored the sky purple)

he went to show the teacher who told him it was all the wrong colors and he started crying really loud

i felt sick at the time but of course i dont care any more i am 17"

Not enough Huh? Peep your local childcare provider as anonymous poster: 41551539

"i work with kids 5 days a week, and sometimes i feel myself losing control. some kids need the fucking shit beat out of them..."

This was just the first page with 100 pages to follow. Of course half are lies but so are half of my friendships.

That’s it for this week, up next: The laughter from within when you realize that women really think you care.

So last week I'm watching Superman Returns against the will of the Mrs. and the Sis when towards the middle of the picture-show I start to realize how scandalous this flick is.



The disadvantaged Richard White

***Spoilers***

In a nutshell(no pun)Superman does a one night stand and bounces home only to leave Lois by her lonesome. In the five years that pass she picks up the pieces, meets RW, gives birth and moves on. The guy does his best to step in and provide for the mother and child as beau and father even though the dame doesn't wish to marry(in this instance RW is blessed). Which before I move on leads me to thinkin' Lois would have had to let RW hit within at least a 2 week period of Superman in order to play off the fact that "the kid" is his.

That's sloppy seconds for RW; plus I'm sure Super already beat the sugarwalls to a pulp.

All of a sudden the man of steel shows back up and in the first scene with Lois happens to save her life. He then goes on to stalk dude's house and fam with x-ray vision, wet Lois's draws multiple times and save the family twice.

RW can't win to save his life...literally.

Supersperm should thank the Krypton Gods that he and Lois don't reside in the State of California. Do you know the amount of child support this man owes now? I'm sure if he was a brotha, his ass would have warrants out for his arrest...no doubt.

That's about it for now...Next week:

How democracy is finally working in the Middle East.

Ever wake up and think...WTF have I been doing with myself? Do I really need the office drudgery for the next 20 years only to bitch about it for the last few years of my life?

If not...It's a quarter-mid-life thing, you wouldn't understand.

Well, I had that moment a couple of days back when making a mix cd for a friend. Not to toot my own horn but this was a pretty tasty marinade of afrocubanbossanova...damn good if I do say so. Anyways, it hit me that I really need to buckle down and do the DJ thing. Yeah,yeah I know...does the world need another DJ?

Damn right it does.

As long as lawyers are still in the game, there can never be enough DJ's. Who else can change and feel the pulse of the crowd at the drop of a dime and dress like a total slacker? And no, not just anyone can do the damn thing...it takes discipline, concentrated knowldge and a bit of elbow grease.

All of which I have none of.

Truth be told, being a child of hip hop, crack and reganomics ('78 baby)...I've always had a deep love for the artform; I just never had the doe or concentration as a youngin'. DJ'ing was an pretty expensive hobby, just look at how many suburban kids have gotten down with it. Times have changed though 'cause the digital age has put everyone one on a more level playing field. With mp3's, a laptop and the right equipment, one can jump into the pop-life a bit easier.

First I would start out with Bar Mitzvahs and Quinceaneras just to dip my foot in the pool; Then before you know it I'll be rockin' the SoCal emo and poser scene(AKA coffee houses).

I just need to come up with a name. I think DJ Sniffles sounds pretty on point but it dosn't scream "street-cred" as much as I would like it too.

Aren't epiphanies great?

Next Week: How to influence homeless people to run with scissors.