2006: The Year of the Tailor

Yeah, it's about that time. Another year comes to a close. And what can I say for 2005?


...2005 was--- I'm not gonna say it was a bad year--- I'm gonna say it hit me; 2005 hit me. But as any decent warrior knows, there's no point dwelling on the last hit if it didn't kill ya; and if it killed ya then stay the heck down!

Once you've been hit, you don't get mad... First you get back up. Then you show respect for the hit and give your opponent his due. But then... then you hit that mutha BACK. I usually don't do NewYear's Resolutions, but I feel like I'm being challenged, and I HATE THAT. So this is my fighting stance for the New Year:

1. Lord-willing, I'm gonna get closer to Jesus in 2006. Last year, I got shook
when my mom passed. But I'm gonna take that faith she left me back up for 2006
and mix it with a bit of my own. Even if I don't get back into church on the
regular, I'm gonna study harder and pray more.

2. Lord-willing, I'm gonna show more love. I don't like being bothered, but I gotta make time for cats. Gotta k.i.t. with the family, no matter the cost; if it means a few slips of the tongue on my part, I'll just have to apologize and work on it. Friends as well; let our interactions be a help and not a hinderance to each of us. Most importantly, I'm gonna be there for my sister no matter what; if she doesn't have anyone else, I want her to ALWAYS ALWAYS have me.

3. Lord-willing, I'm going to see this dreadnaught-spaceship-of-a-musical-venture off the ground. I won't get discouraged by length of time; I'm already way past my own deadline. I won't get discouraged by the successes of others; we're not in it for the same reasons, so their ups and downs say nothing about my own path. And this is the outline of how I wanna pull it off:

A. Lord-willing, I want to evolve a team with great chemistry to
help the process. I pray they will be a diverse group of artists of all
types who have their own convictions, but share the same vision. I also pray that wherever I may not have expertise, such as in matters of business, that there will be a member to compensate for it. May the group as a whole bring enough connections to the table to make this happen. LET OUR POWERS COMBINE!!!

B. Lord-willing, I want to move into my mother's room and convert my room into a studio seating 5-6 people to facilitate recording sessions. I want to soundproof it over the course of the year, use my closet for instrument storage, and turn the neighboring clearing in the hallway into a large booth.

C. Lord-willing, I want to hone both my writing and producing skills to perfection, but always with room to improve. With highest emphasis, I want my writing, delivery, and presentation especially to become as natural and effortless as breathing so that I can compete with rappers on all levels. I've put much emphasis on production in 2005 and I need to invest just as much energy into my rap attributes.

D. Lord-willing, let production become a solid, stable source of income for my production group and for the larger project. Not only let it help set all other projects in motion, but let it be so stable that my group can make a lifestyle of it, clear the table of other distractions, and focus on it to get the most out of it.

E. Lord-willing, my production group will complete its album early in the year and I will complete both of my solo albums in near proximity to that.

F. Lord-willing, my equipment will remain intact and fully operational long enough for everything to come to pass and until we can afford to get new equipment.

G. Lord-willing, I will avoid people who discourage my aspirations. I will speak of my aspirations only to those who need to hear it, to those who will encourage it, and to those who will help the process.

5. Lord-willing, I will get in a position where I can be totally independent. I'm sick of having other people influence the course of my life. Once I'm in complete control of my finances and capable of managing them, I will have full control in every decision I have to make. I would also like to have enough to be all I can be for my sister as well. I want to be able to:

A. Continue to tithe.

B. Pay my own bills.

C. Pay my own tuition.

D. Have money left over for savings and reach financial security by saving at least 6-months worth of paychecks. Obtaining a money-market account would be ideal.

E. Invest toward the music project.

F. Have money left over to enjoy myself.

6. Lord-willing, I'm gonna switch to a very healthy diet. I wanna operate this entire year at peak health and have a long, healthy life.

7. Lord-willing, if I have to go to school, I will do well in it. I don't agree with the principles behind schooling, but I will find motivation and make my way through it.

Hm... 7 is my favorite number, so I think I'll stop here. "7 in 1 stroke..." Like in The Brave Little Tailor... Yeah, I like the sound of that! Lord-willing, 2006 will be the year I kill seven giants in one stroke!!!

7-in-1 stroke... How's that for a counterattack, 2005?...

Liberty Heaven

I've been thinking about Heaven a lot recently; no, I'm not suicidal. But I've been missing my mom, and in thinking about her I realize more and more that Heaven is literally just a heartbeat away. Shoot, at work the other day I messed around and looked at my wrist; unknowingly, a stiff cardboard box had put a nice little cut on my wrist, right over the biggest vein. Thank God it didn't break thru.

So I've been walking around Heaven in my mind, and I realized something that really blew me away; it's really got me excited about going one day. Of course I'm anticipating a reunion with my family, especially my mother, but do you also realize that many of the famed African American slaves that came before me will be in Heaven when I get there? And not just the "big names", that's not what I'm looking at. I mean the slave communities; the congregated slaves who suffered and worked and kept the faith and sang and cried and celebrated and worshipped and bled together. Man, to be in the midst of them as we celebrate our Lord and Savior...

I wonder what songs they will raise? I mean, we have a nice---okay, EXCEPTIONAL--- choir at my church, but who could touch the voices of this people who endured so much and had ONLY the Unseen Father in Heaven to cling to? I don't know if I could compete with the faith bursting forth from their voices, but I know my soul would cry out as it reveled in the in the harmony.

And the dancing... Oh man, I can imagine it! It would be the most beautiful thing ever conceived! Who could sit still in the presence of a million liberated slaves praising the Lord with every fiber of their being? I can barely sit still thinking about it! And I know my mom... MAN, she'd love that...

And please don't me wrong; I'm not saying this in a spirit of racist isolationism or separation. We're all sinners in need of salvation from the same Christ, and people of all races will be in Heaven. But the African American slaves were just amazing people to me. To be descended of such a people is an honor. And I can't wait to get to Heaven to experience the power of their worship as I too worship. And come to think of it---as much as He suffered for us--- what if Jesus Christ Himself was celebrating with us in the same manner? Admit it... you feel a little jig in your heart at the thought of if, don't you...B-J

Christmas Aftermath/Thank You, Father

So much going thru my head right now. If I don't write this one rhyme, I'll prolly have to write six blogs to get it all out. Peep-peep:

I can't afford the price of freedom, but I refuse to believe/
The reason I'm breathin' is to sweat under the power of
this heathen/
Who wears a paternity suit like a wolf in sheepskin/
His presence constantly reminds me just how bad I need friends/
But I'm thankful I have family, that scramble frantically/
For the saving sake of my sanity, making efforts to channel me/
They crush my fantasies cuz that's not the man that they plan to see/
Behind the scenes I look for more dreamers to take the stand with me/
Christmas Day found me sitting at the feet of my first cousin/
His life led him to be a father of two and a wonderful husband/
Didn't hurt so much when he said graduation is still my validation/
Cuz he focused much more on the power of prayer and supplication/
I watched him shed tears and reflect on our grandmama and daddy/
While his daughter matched my name with my face and called me
"Matthy"/
I wasn't sad, B; when I left I was quite happy somebody had me/
I was home in a flash, and just that quick back to reality/
Got a visit from my Dad see; didn't see that coming by far/
Least this time he wasn't interested in taking my car/
But if things go well, I'll be able to afford one in my name shortly/
Try to take that and I'll see you in Constitutional Court, see.../
Still, he pays the bills, I know not whether for good or ill/
But after he left I opened the mailbox and froze to the
steel.../
Ya'll better enjoy this verse for real, cuz it might be my last/
Somehow I missed a particular fee, direct from Comcast/
And I'm tryin my best to keep up, but I'm new to this type of
thing/
On the 28th they're cutting connectin if
I don't offer them up something/
There goes my plan for payin my own tuition and such/
I got no choice but to depend on other people too much/
In return, when they hit me with their concerns I must
respond/
Even if its because they love me, I feel the weight of these
bonds/
And now I'm looking at my future; my plans were to become/
An MC to change things for the better while I'm still young/
By the time I graduate, start teaching, get in this workforce/
I'll have lost my inspiration; end up just like the rest of course/
If I'm defeated, somebody say so so I can give up my
Shirt*/
Somebody hold my head, I'm so hurt.../


...Cuz in the middle of my writing.../
...Who should come back to the door without my inviting/
Bringing food for his kids that speak unkind words/
Like he heard, he took the bills without saying one word/
I never panned to be an ingrate, I'm just afraid of being hurt again/
I'm paranoid that every good action is just covering up dirt
again.../

In the shifting of odds I look for God.../
He's the one that sent my father back, no matter what frauds/
May come of it, as I think back on the words of my cousin/
"If you're gonna worry, stop praying"; just like that I'm above
it.../

*Shirt - the name of my organization in the works
(lines 17-48 written in concert with the events themselves)


Okay... so this won't be my last broadcast. This is unbelieveable... But like my cousin told me, praying and worrying aren't meant to coexist. Whatever my pop's intentions might be, I know what the Lord's intentions are. And that's all that matters. Thank you, Father. This was a wild post...

Christmas Day Started With a Thunderstorm...

(Need I say more... B-C)

I wasn't gonna do the cliche Christmas/holiday blog this time, but I get the feeling I'm not gonna have a cliche Christmas. I mean, things were looking up last night... I got off work early so I had time to run by Krystal's and get two #6 Combos for me and my little sis. We had some ants break in the house, but we took care of that quickly... No phone calls... Good music.

It wasn't a perfect start though. Baby sis tells me when I get home that pops finally called just to say all the checks he mentioned to us earlier in the week were "in his name" and stuff... Self is thinking, "You had to wait a whole week just to screw up my Christmas Eve and say that? Man-up and tell me when you find out for once..." I get the feeling if we weren't coming down to his sister's (or is it sister-in-law's... I have no idea... our aunt basically) house, who lives right across from him, he prolly still wouldn't have called. Before all that happened, my mom's best friend comes over to wish us a Merry Christmas and give us gifts; she's going out of town with her son, so they won't be with us today. I like having them around though, so it's kind of a damper...

Anywasy, I popped a bottle of Sparkling White Grape Juice Cocktail (non-alcoholic) and went to bed (thank God I could actually sleep at NIGHT for once... or so I thought) because I planned to make the early service (yes my church had service this morning; Christ+Mas= Worship Christ).

So tell me why at about 3/4 o'clock this morning... "Boom... boom.... rumble..." I knew it was scheduled to rain on Christmas, but when it's cold like this you raaaaarely get thunderstorms, even in Georgia. "No... friggin... way...", I thought. But it was legit...

So of course, with my brontophobic self, my next move was to get up and chill in the bathroom until it was done. And if you think I can go to sleep in the bathroom while it's storming, thanks for playing and better luck next time. I have no idea the time span that all this occurred; all I know is when my alarm clock went off, I smashed it and went back to sleep. I'll have to pay my tithes with interest later on this week...

So now I'm up. I feel bad that I missed church, but the combination of work-weariness and brontophobia did it for me. Maybe God knew I needed the rest... nah, I barely got any. Whoever was behind it, it happened, and I don't like it. So what's on tap for the rest of the day? Let's talk breakfast first. Maybe pancakes or somethin... Then comes the visitations. I know I'm asking for trouble, but I think I might put some sticky notes on my back to answer the family's questions before they ask them:

"School is fine," "I work overnight at Target, so I sleep during the day and
can't visit..." "I work overnight at Target and slept during the day so I didn't
get any shopping done, plus money is tight..." "Did I call you before Mom
passed; what makes you think I'm gonna start calling you now..." "Momma said I'm
old enough to assert myself before she passed; I'm just respecting her wishes,"
"Dad's fine, and even if he's not you're not gonna sit around the campfire and
talk about him right now," "Damion's fine. We tried to shop on Christmas Eve's
Eve when all the gifts were sold out at Target," "School is fine," "I make close
to $500 every two weeks," "Yes I'm passing; all A's and B's last semester," "I
will be graduating when I walk across the stage," "Yes I have the car back.
There it is in the window..." "Did the thunderstorm come by your way this
morning? That's why we didn't make it to church..." "I work overnight at Target... from
10-6... this season, from 11-7, sometimes 8.."

...It sucks living in other people's minds, but they're so readable, and I need time to prepare my answers so they don't come out wrong; Freudian slips suck too.

Somehow, I was more Christmassy two weeks ago in the back of Target listening to the Jacksons tom'bout Santa Claus and giving love, and Donny Hathaway tom'bout this Christmas, and Frank Sinatra offering this simple phrase, although it's been said many times many ways: Merry Christmas to you. Thanks Frank; yes, I am going to have a Merry Christmas. After all, who needs to go to church to worship Christ? I got my Bible right here.

Merry ChristmasB-J



Oooooh... P!S! - Almost forgot... A special Merry Christmas to my friend, Brandy. You'd better not be letting that nonsense you told me about ruin your Christmas, lol...



Unbelieveable... P.S.S. - This just in... There are actually two large Rottweilers running free on our street right now... This is gonna be the best Christmas EVER, boi I tell ya...



Stop the Presses... P.S.S.S. - This just in... It appears the thunderstorm also knocked out our house phone! FUN TIMES!!! Keep the cameras rolling...

The Great College Rant

I'm gonna enjoy this soooooo much...

Let's take a good look at what the heck this college madness is all about. Do you cats realize that most of the most f'ed up institutions in this country are run by... college grads and grad students? And yet, we still put trust in colleges and universities to produce "quality citizens". Yeah, I said "quality citizens" because you're not considered capable of doing anything significant until you get a diploma; try even being a manager at a department store without a diploma of some sort.

And let's get it right people... YOU DON'T GO TO COLLEGE TO GET AN EDUCATION; YOU GO TO COLLEGE TO GET A DIPLOMA. YOU DON'T HAVE TO ACTUALLY GET AN EDUCATION TO GRADUATE, TRUST ME. It's nothing but jumping through hoops. You learn how to do what you're told and dat about it.

I get pissed when I think about what most 17-23 year olds are doing right now. Lets put it in perspective and see if things have improved or gotten worse. When Alexander the Great was 17 years old, he was conquering the world; when I and I was 17, I was in a screwed up high school in a screwed up school system with a screwed up education trying to convince older, "wiser" people that education is not the meaning of life. And by the way, if you think I learned that Alexander the Great stuff at school, fie on you: I learned it WATCHING TV. Some good quality time there...

Hegg yeah... Then I finally graduated high school and "became somebody"'; in other words in spite of my outstanding academic credentials, I wasn't worth listening to until after I graduated. But here's the thing: I'm still saying the same things I said back then right now. The difference is I'm wise enough not to say it to the people around me anymore because they're bad listeners. I'm tired of fighting for attention.

College... shoot, you can put me in a library for a whole semester and I'll learn more than any classroom could ever teach me. And tell me this... why the heck do we pick majors if we're gonna spend most of our time in college getting "well-rounded" taking other courses... That's a waste of money from all angles. "Well, you need to be a well-rounded person..." Well, what the h3ll was high school for?! Oh yeah... the high schools sucked... it all makes sense now. Good job, Dr. So-and-So Superintendent, and all you great well-taught teachers. Here's some words of non-wisdom from a non-graduate: fix your school system before you accept any new teachers, and maybe you won't lose so many of the ones you have. And yeah, I got the answer to that too, but I have to graduate and serve in the education system for x amount of years before I am "worthy" of helping you.<-------if it sounds like nonsense don't blame me; or just do what you normally do and don't listen... And I'm SICK and TIRED of people asking me about school; like, they barely know me, they just wanna know when I'm gonna graduate. And I'm not talking about strangers, I'm talking about family. Half of my family is just now realizing they really don't know me. Or maybe they don't realize it. Hm... Like, they always gotta ask me what I want for things like Christmas and my birthday because they don't really know what my interests are. But until special occasions come up, they don't really CARE what my interests are. All they wanna know is when I'm gonna graduate. Anything else is speaking French to them; and I'm pretty sure they've all forgotten the foreign languages they "learned" in school... And yeah, I had to take a foreign language too... for what, I have yet to figure out...

I want to pay my own tuition so I can graduate when I d@mn well please, but I don't think I can do it. So plan B is to graduate as quickly as possible to get my family off of my back. And yeah, I predicted back in the 9th grade that college would happen this way; I have so many ideas for doing great things to make positive changes, but I'm gonna get mobbed into the workforce and have my productivity killed to make other people comfortable. It's for MY comfort you say? OKay... so when I get my first classto teach and they lose their love for learning because of their sarcastic, defeated teacher, what then? Which reminds me...

At what point does all that talk about "Let God lead you" actually come into play? Seems like the saying should be "Let God lead you if you have time for it". If they only knew what's been on my heart since 1997... Actually, no. They wouldn't listen because it's not "professional" enough.

Man... when I think about all the money we spend... Books, classes, tuition, labs, activities, athletic fees, paper, raised tution, parking, gas money, gaassss money, hours in study, stress, hours in class, stress, hours in exams... for what? A piece of paper that says, "I am somebody"? I mean, I could actually have 2-3 money market accounts by just investing that money in something worthwhile. And listen closely... I was somebody the day I was born. 12 years of academic excellence didn't make me somebody. Any additional years of academia won't make me any more a somebody than I already was. And I when I get to where I was meant to be, I expect to look back on these years with the question of what good did college really do me? Better yet, I won't even look back. I spent too much time doing that in history classes already.

The Beauty of Work

Since I've started working at Target, I must admit it's been a challenge. But it's not a feeling of dissatisfaction necessarily that I'm dealing with.

I'm looking at my hands right now... Covered in papercuts and knicks. A little rough around the knuckles. Fingernails jagged and broken. Skin a little dryer than usual. One finger is bruised from getting caught between a eavy box and a metal ladder. (Sidenote: Somehow, the palm-side is still very soft, ladies... Free demonstrations available upon request B-J)

But you know what? I'm diggin this! I go back to work every night, and I don't really have any complaints. It feels like I'm taking a P.E. course or somethin'. It's only affirming what I already knew: I love to work. The people at my job worry about me because I always do stuff the hard way, and I love to do what I do thoroughly even when I'm the last person to leave. I mean, I'm not crazy... I do want to go home and go to sleep like everyone else. But when I hit the sack, I'm satisfied; I really feel like I did something.

I'd get the same feeling some nights when I would stay up until 3-4:00 working on music. That first bead of sweat I feel under my shirt does something to me. When my pastor says that man was made to work, I believe it. Mind you, I don't think we're all made for the same kind of work, but everybody has their niche. And when you work hard at it, it really feels good, at least to me.

I mean, think about it. Beautiful bodies don't come about by lounging; they come about by hard work at fitness. And so many health concerns are addressed by doctors telling patients to exercise more; couldn't exercise simply be a substitution for physical work?

There's nothing like physical labor. I spend my largest portion of time with the Lord while I'm working. If I'm frustrated, I take it out in my work. I build relationships with coworkers and we do better work when we get together. There's just something about work...

I admit, I work for money. I'm in a bind right now, so I go in thinking about that paycheck. But I feel a certain attachment to the work itself to the point that I think I might work for free if I had the energy to spare. And even if it didn't pay monetarily, it would pay physically as I got stronger. People seem to think that work is a punishment. But the more I look at it, the more work reveals itself as a thing of holiness.

I dunno... Lemme go, I gotta get some rest. Gotta punch in in about 2 1/2 hours. Need some rest...

All LoveB-J

The Blind Man Sees...

Okay... I know anybody who has ever seen kung fu flicks has seen the blind man that whoops everybody's arse...

"(Sigh) Again with the martial arts..."

A lot of people laugh at the classic blind martial artist because they don't think it's possible for a blind person to defeat a person with 20/20 vision. Most people see blindness as a hinderance and a handicap... So quick to make these assumptions we are (<---shout out to Master Yoda)...

Consider:

1. The blind man sees that we're all the same mankind because he cannot tell one race from another.

2. The blind man sees the true beauty of a woman because he cannot see, and therefore cannot be swayed by, her superficial outer beauty.

3. The blind man sees the true importance of being a good listener because, in the absence of his sight, his hearing becomes his strongest sense.

4. The blind man sees past looks of disapproval and can tell the truth without their distraction.

5. The blind man sees the true importance of what a man says because he cannot use his eyes to express himself.

6. The blind man sees that he is much more than his appearance, for he himself doesn't know what he looks like but knows that he has significance.

Perhaps now the concept of the blind martial artist isn't so far fetched? Perhaps some of you out there realize that you're really the blind ones? Isn't it amazing how a "blind" man can see so many things that some of us with "vision" can't? See there?

The Pace of Extremities

What is the Pace of Life?... What Should Be the Pace of Life?... What Should Be the Pace of My Life?...

I had two other blogs in mind, but this question just came to me this moment and I had to write about it. You see, I'm a slow-mover literally and figuratively. People fly by me and I just maintain my steady gate. I watch people crash and burst into flames from moving too fast while keeping my "I told you so's" to myself. In the back of my mind, I'm the tortoise from the story of the tortoise and the hare.

Yet, at my own pace I seem to miss so many opportunities. True, I don't make the mistakes of many others; I have my own mistakes. Mistakes that leave me wondering what might have been. I win races, but they're not the races that matter; I'm the Earl "The Goat" Manigault that never plays in the NBA.

Then there's the moderate pace... I dont like this one either. I don't know what it is, but moderation seems to go hand in hand with mediocrity. Most people that move throught life at a moderate pace can do so because their goals are so... pracitical. They want a good job, a house, a wife, kids, a pension plan, and a boss tombstone. Any goal that's too lofty gets written off as impossible; any goal that's too easily obtained becomes unworthy. Hm... Well, if thats what you want, go for it. But I don't think I want that.

Slow, fast, and moderate. That's about it isn't it? Actually...

I think there's one more pace of life that deserves attention. I call it the pace of extermities. It's where your life goes from fast to slow and skips the moderation. I think this is the lifestyle of those who are considered "movers" and "shakers". They're either obtaining heights never-before-reached by man and making historical decisions, or they're the most docile beings on the planet, enjoying the things that those who live in moderation feel they're too good to enjoy. Moderation in the life of extremities comes as a balance between fast and slow paces. That's what I think my pace should be. I want so much, and I find pleasure in the simplest things. And the only thing I hate is mediocrity; I'm my most frustrated when I'm doing what everyone else is doing.

I don't even know why I wrote this ladies and gents. But I think it'll be useful to me in the near future...

Weapons Narrative (for Stag)

Hey Stag, I noticed your interest in weapons and decided to write this entry. I don't know if you noticed in any of my earlier blogs, but I too am interested in weapons and martial arts. Pertaining to weapons, I feel that each weapon has a narrative; its very composition and the way that it is used says something. Here are a few of my thoughts...

Single-Edged Sword--- To me, the single-edged sword represents decisiveness. Every swing is purposeful and progressive because there is not reverse swing to recover from mistakes. It symbolizes making a decision and investing in that decision, because where the sword goes the swordholder is not far behind. In fact, the blunted side of the blade seems to invite assistance from the swordholder's free hand.

Sheath--- The sheath represents unwillingness to fight. Still, some sheaths can be used in battle, such as the sheath of some katanas. In such case, the sheath represents defense and reluctance. It can also represent distraction when used as a temporary substitute for the sword in battle. Finally, it represents a source of power when used as resistance for drawn-sword combat.

Double-Edged Sword--- The double-edged sword represents complete offense. It represetns forgiveness if the handler should make a faulty blow by allowing him to make it up with a reverse swing. The double-edged sword has a sort of independence independence, as there is no place for the swordholder to involve himself except at the handle.

Shield--- Large shields represent the valued life. Its sole purpose is the protection of whoever is holding it. Small shields glorify the fighter. They aren't meant to protect their owners as much as they are meant to create opportunities for their holders to put their fighting prowess to use.

Knife/Dagger--- These represent intent to kill. They're not made for long-term combat or deliberations. It represents also a personal interest in the demise of the victim, as the wielder must be in personal close-range in order to land an attack.

Nunchaku--- These represent several things: freedom of choice and the relationship between control and consequence. At any moment nunchaku can be manipulated to create any number of directional attacks. However, though the user has infinite options, he must maintain control of the nunchaku at all times. Otherwise the very weapon he holds can strike against him in a moment of random flight.

Tonfa/Baton/Blackjack--- These weapons greatly emphasize the role of the user in combat. All combat using the tonfa is very close range and requires one with the skill to manage a close-range-based combat situation. Furthermore, they often have no components that cause fatalities. Therefore, they really symbolize the essence of mastery: total control of a situation to the point that in a close-range, life threatening confrontation, an element of killing is not even necessary.

Chain/Whip--- The chain and whip symbolize time in certain ways. For instance, chains and whips are not meant to end fights quickly (unless they are attached to more fatal weapons). They are used for torturous strikes that accumlate on the opponent over time to overwhelm him. Even at their most lethal, when used for strangling, the attack is one that requires much effort. Chains and whips also symbolize dominance, as they can be used to bind opponents, control the parameters of the fight to an opponent's disadvantage, and strip an opponent of his weapon.

Staff/Bo--- The staff/bo symbolizes simplicity and balance; it is merely a stick, and it can be used for both offensive and defensive purposes, sometimes simultaneously. It represents unwillingness to kill because it has no fatal components; it is more a weapon of battery than slaughter. A long staff seems to warn opponents of a reluctant will to fight, but a full capability of fighting. A short staff enocurages combat and puts more emphasis of the role of its carrier in the fight.

Spear/Javelin--- The spear symbolizes defense through offense; though it's length keeps opponents at bay, it's sharp end gives it the capability of killing those who it attempts to ward off. It expresses loyalty to whomever it protects when it is sacrificed to the fight by throwing.

Gun--- The gun symbolizes cowardice and intimidation. It is designed to keep the user at a safe distance while he "fights". Actually, it negates the fighting aspect; the gun does all the fighting for the user. It makes sound that intimidates those around it while actually only firing in one direction at one small target.

Bow and Arrow--- Very different symbolism than the gun, though similar in essence. The bow and arrow represent unity and harmony. The bowstaff, arrow, and user must be in harmony in order for the shot to be successful. Also, though the bow and arrow are distance weapons, they rely on the strength and control of the wielder for their success, not an automated mechanism in which a user is only required to cause a reaction. Finally, the bowstaff itself can at times become a weapon for close-range combat, so the bow and arrow represent versatility.

Shuriken/Throwing Star/Dart--- Again, these are similar in essence to the gun and bow-and-arrow because they are projectile weapons, but these are much more symbolic as weapons of complication. These projectiles can stun, injure, slow down, poison, and snag the clothing of enemies. The skill of the wielder is the greatest determinant of the success of the projectile, but these weapons are succeptible to the elements as well, such as a gust of wind. Occasionally a skillful throw will kill, but they're chiefly distractions to keep enemies on their heels.

These are the things that weapons seem to say to me when I see them in action and think about their essence. Of course, I'm not an expert--- okay, I do own a bokken and some training nunchaku--- but I've never seen a live fight with these weapons, nor have I been in one... yet...

Next time on Narratives, The Narratives of Eastern Martial Arts, lol...

Voltron Unlimited: The 4-Runners

A few years ago Sprite did an ad campaign in which rappers from all coasts were represented as members of the Voltron force. ...Oh you don't remember Voltron? lololololol... Well.. Voltron was the animated version of the Power Rangers basically. Except Voltron was composed of 5 lions, which is the krunkest concept for a mech ever (the red lion was my personal favorite).

Anywasy, The Sprite commericials were like a dream come true for any hip hop fan who was born in the eighties, full of nostalgic sentiments of rhyme and teamwork. It featured Common Sense as the Red Lion repping the Midwest, MY BOYS The Goodie MOb as the Blue Lion repping the Dirty South, Cali legend Mack 10 as the Yellow Lion reppin the West Coast (by the way, he's got a VERY posititve, pratically Christian-rap joint out now that I'm really diggin; doesn't sound Mackish at all, but I'm not complaining), Fat Joe as the Green Lion reppin the North, and Afrika Bambataa as the Black Lion reppin all hip hop.

Why did I bring this up? Because this type of cooperation is what I've been seeking to make my dream come true. As I've said before, though I like being free to move without anything to slow me down, I LOVE working with other cats too. The trick is, I don't believe in just teamwork. I believe in "teamwork with chemistry leading to synergy". If I don't have that, I'd rather not link up because it takes too much energy to reconcile differences.

So for years I've sought that "teamwork with chemistry leading to synergy" and haven't found it. Some cats that I used to have chemistry with, I no longer do because I've changed and they've changed to. However, I have maintained chemistry with one cat for a decade plus, so we've leaned on each other and forged ahead. Now, I've found two more cats with whom I have chemistry. They're both from NY, but we relate to each other extremely well.

One cat is my homie Joe. He's one year younger than me, but much more experienced; he's married for starters. Joe is different than the cats I traditionally work with; he's a hardcore rapper. But I was very impressed with his freestyle ability--- after all, it takes a strong intellect to freestyle well, and this cat was exceptional--- so i thought I'd try him. Turns out, there's more to Joe than meets the eye. While he's got a lot of industry influence, the thing about Joe that makes us highly compatible is that Joe's a student. Joe's attitude is this, as I paraphrase:

"I learn from everybody. I mean, even if somebody's giving me advice that
I've heard before but it's worded differently, I still listen. Why?
Because what we think is nothing new can be a totally different thing if we
receive it. Just because I rhyme doesn't mean I know everything; I could
learn things from you and you could learn things from me. That's how cats
improve, by being receptive to each other. And I'm not afraid to try
new things, so if you have an idea, holla at me. I'm not the type to
have a set way of doing things."

Yo, when Joe said that, I knew what the heck was up right then. We already got a track recorded, and it only took us about three days. It's not my traditional work cuz, like I said, J is hardcore. But it's a worthy track in my opinion.

The second cat is Clyde. Clyde is about 28, and he's got a lot of experience as a real time (not internet) battle rapper; he's made a name for himself dicing upcats in Downtown Augusta, but he's still an unknown. But what I like about Clyde is that he's a conscious rapper like myself. Clyde knows both sides of the equation, so he's not naive; he's a real MC who chooses to rap for something better... most of the time. He's a Christian like myself, but he admits he's in transition, which is fine because in reality we all are unless we're Jesus. A lot of his homies have made some bad decisions in their lives and have ended up in some bad places, so he's no stranger to the world. That right there is enough for him and I to create some sick tracks. But these are the two things about him that really hit me, as I paraphrase:

"I believe that the root of a good MC is being a good writer in
general. I was a good writer before I became an MC; it all boils down to
the same principles..."

"I was raised in the church. I haven't been in a while, but I plan to
go back. Before I left, my uncle spoke to me and said I would be a
prophet/minister and I want to follow up on that."

I'm really dying to get this cat to come to my church. If he comes there, I know he'll find the teaching to get him where he wants to be in Christ. And that'll put us even more on the same page, because Christ is the center of what I do.

And these two cats Joe and Clyde... they're HUNGRY man. How hungry? When we set up dates to hook up and they said they would be there at 2:30, they showed up at 2:30! When I didn't call one day, Joe hit me right up to make sure I didn't forget. It's good to know I don't always have to be the one on point and I got them putting out just as much effort.

The game is about to begin and I like the pieces on the board right now: the soul samurai, the phantom composer, the warrior priest, and the streets disciple. But before you say "Voltron had five (technically six... actually more than that cuz there was Vehicle Voltron... nevermind) members", Joe really put me on to something. He told me, and I couldn't agree more, that groups destroyed a lot of people and a lot of movements; the best groups aren't made, they evolve over time. So even though I know cats with potential, I'm not forcing the teamwork without the chemistry. It's one relationship at a time, and then let the bonds form where they may. Furthermore, I called this Voltron Unlimited because I don't believe we'll stop at five. Not even at seven. As a matter of fact, I don't know how big our number will be; there are maaany more cats in this area who may join us, and once we thrive in this area I have cats from Atlanta to Canada to Florida to the UK who may join us. But right now, I'm satisfied with this dedicated, experienced, and maturing group of four.

Tearful Reunion

I'm not sure if I can find the words to really express the feeling...

I went to the school today to drop my library books off, and while I was there I decided to go see my former employer to thank her for sending the sympathy card at the passing of my mother. I really looked forward to going back to my old spot. I crept into the small curriculum center facility and quietly greeted the new worker at the desk. Then I tip-toed a little further and peeped into Mrs. Cindy's office. She looked up and immediately threw me the biggest smile. As she rose from her chair I could already tell she was sincerely glad to see me. I was honestly happy to see her too; I mean, I really missed her, more than I even realized.

We hugged each other and I thanked her for the card. It was funny when I hugged her because the last person I hugged like that was my mom; Mrs. Cindy and my mom have similar builds. Anyway, after I thanked her, I started giving her an update to my situation. I told her about the process, the drawbacks, the positives, and my plans for the immediate time as well as the long run. Of course things haven't been fun at all, but relatively speaking I thought I presented things rather optimistically. But when I looked into my former employer's eyes, I was taken aback. They had welled up with tears.

The sincerity of this woman really did something to me. I didn't know how to take it; it was like I forgot how to breathe. As I stood in speechlessness, I remembered that her mother too had battled cancer. In her watery eyes I saw a spirit that truly knew my pain--- that had truly been where I was. Here was a friend that truly grieved with me. I felt like... Wow... There was this hot/cold feeling in my chest. I didn't want her to cry; at the same time I felt like crying myself. Somehow at the moment it seemed like I should've poured myself out to her. Of course I didn't, but it felt like I should've.

When I asked if she was okay, Mrs. Cindy snapped right up, fighting back the tears... once. But they came back again before it was all said and done, and she had to catch herself then as well. I don't like weighing other people down with my pain; maybe that's why it took me so long to go back to visit Mrs. Cindy. But I'm thankful for anyone who would shed a tear for me. I pray that God will bless Mrs. Cindy for her tears and help her to deal wth the pain of her loss as well.

I Must Have the Pimpinest Walk on Earth...

I'm not braggin folks. When I was younger, all I used to get was "Ay Matt! Do that walk man! That joint funny as heck." One cat was like, "If I walked like that, I'd shoot myself." Somehow when I got older, "funny" became "pimp". Somehow I've managed to adopt a pimp walk, but I didn't even know what a pimp was until I was about 16-17; never even seen one. Actually, I did, but I thought he was some kinda Black clown; no offense intended, that's just what I thought I was looking at at the time...

Anywasy, so I've been hearing about "the walk" for years now. At church, at school, in other cities, from friends, family, total strangers, old dudes, young dudes, old ladies, young ladies. It's been described as "cool", "breezy", "pimp", "slow-motion", "swagger", "intimidating", "skating on air", "moonwalking forward", "nonchalant", "lazy", "slothful", and "gangsta". But the reason I'm writing this blog about it is because my co-worker Dave gave it the wildest description the other day.

This cat, in about his mid- to late- 30's, declared that the way I walked said, "I slapped so many h0es that I broke my wrist, but I'm on my way to slap some more h0es..." Then he was like, "For real tho... He look like he bout to beat the h3ll outta somebody doesn't he? He could probably do it too..."

Dag... Is that what my friend Renae really meant when she said my walk was "intimidating"? I do have some huge hands too; 'can't really help it tho. And I ain't gon' lie, I do think about fighting most of the time; it's better than thinking about sex, and it derives from the same part of the brain. Maybe it was because I used to walk with my left hand in my pocket all the time when I was little. Or maybe it was a defense mechanism I developed to keep kids from screwin with me at school. Or maybe it was from being mad so much at home all the time. Who knows. But it definitely had nothing to do with pimping, or women period for that matter; I've been rolling solo going on a decade this year.

Whatever it is, it's prolly permanent. But really, you're more concerned about it than I am. Maybe that's what they mean when they say "nonchalant"; I walk like I don't care because I really don't. Life is too short. So I just take my time and enjoy the scenery. Maybe that's what they mean when they say "slow motion".

Anywasy, I'm tryna cop a second pair of nunchaku soon (not the training ones this time), so I'm bout to "skate" off to work and make some a dat bread. Slap ya later (if u don't have my paper)...

All LoveB-J

Motherfunk!

lol... Don't condemn me brethren, it's not whatcha think!!! lol...

Yeah, I was thinking about my mom again today; I think about her all day every day. I was also trying to make some music at the same time; it led me to thinking about my mother in the time prior to her illness. And I realized something: my momma could boogie! I mean, she really had some funk running thru her. And come to think of it, I think that's where I got my rhythm from!

My mom used to be in the kitchen when I was little, maybe cooking dinner or something. And all of a sudden she would make this deep, guttural rhythm: "mm-mm---mm---mm-mm... mm-mm---mm---mm-mm..." It was like the bass kick from a marching band. Then mom would just start stepping and prancing around the kitchen. I would be thinkin to myself, "Man... she's lost it..." But I when I look back, momma could really move! I now recognize she was doing the salsa, but I didn't know what the salsa was back then.

Sometimes she would stop and march in place and act like she was twirling a baton, all the time never missing a beat. One day one of my aunts told me mom used to be a Majorette in the Laney High School Band. Then mom told me when she first started teaching she was also in charge of the dancing girls at Hephzibah High School. Motherfunk!

And it never failed; if a tight song came on the radio with a nice drumline, momma would always get into it, even if she didn't like what they were saying. I had forgotten all that because it seemed she didn't really want me to pursue music. I think she really just wanted me to be secure in whatever I did. And before she passed, she told me to do whatever would make me happy...

As I sit here right now, getting ready to produce another song, I can't get that rhythm out of my head... "mm-mm---mm---mm-mm..." You know what... I think I'm gonna make a joint dedicated to her using that rhythm. And I think I'm gonna call it...

B-J

Redemption<------look familiar, "Christians"?

You can't tell me... you can't BEGIN to tell me that in this so-called Judeo-Christian Western Civilization there aren't more Christians who condemn than redeem. Seriously now. Watch this...

I could tell ya'll right now that I want to form a record label or organization, and I want Mystikal and David Banner on the board...

"But Mystikal was involved in [not convicted of, but present at] a rape case, and David Banner does that nasty song 'Play'."

Or how about this one: "If you're gonna come to this church, you gotta find some better clothes. Wear a suit or something, no baggy jeans... Brush your hair..."

And in a similar way, I love how every Christian acts like every other Christian goes to the same church of incredible teaching. I thank God that I started off in a bogus church so I could see both sides of it.

And of course there's the Tookie Williams situation. IF, and I do mean IF, he killed those people that he's accused of killing--- and mind you, I said if he DID IT, not if he was convicted; it's not the same thing (unless you REALLY believe the justice system is infallible)--- of course he should be punished. At the same time, how can the good that a man does be overlooked, especially in light of a possibly flawed conviction. I'm not saying free the man; I'm saying let him live, even in a life sentence. Why? Because for the 4 people he may or may not have killed, he kept hundreds more from being killed by leading them away from his own organization.

I like this example too: how much wrong does it take to undo all the good you've ever done? In the West? Shoot... go to jail one time, you'll never find a job. Or even better: I was listening to the radio the other day. Do you realize there are people who can't get a job because they were late paying a cable bill 9 YEARS AGO? Hows that for Christian redemption...

I'm saying this because we're limiting the power and presence of God in our culture by being so much about condemnation and not enough about redemption. Before our God is the God of judgment, He is the God of a second chance. We like to make a big deal about people when they do wrong: "Oh he curses so much; oh she sleeps around; oh he doesn't come to church all the time; oh he doesn't believe in the same thing we do..." Do you realize that Jesus died for us while we were sinners? It wasn't after we got saved. Shoot, Jesus sat at the table WITH sinners when He was trying to win them; some of us are too righteous to do that--- the sinfulness might rub off or something... So where do we find the right to hold the wrong that people do against them? And how do we expect to win them? By condemnation? How do you reform a man after you kill him? Simple... you don't. You never sought his redemption in the first place.

Bottom line: there should never be condemnation without considering the possibility of redemption first. I'm not saying all can be redeemed, but there are thousands of brothas in jail right now who are handicapped for life because they were caught with a three inch rolled up plant. Last time I checked, the cigars that corporate execs chief on were much much bigger. I question the severity and fierceness of Christians of Condemnation; is this really the image of Jesus Christ, or is this you on a witchhunt to promote your own righteousness?

But as always, Brethren...
All Love

The "N" Word, Slang, and Afros

Whattup ladies. Sorry gentlemen, that's all I really feel like speaking to today...

Syke, lol...

I'm feeling pretty good right now, so I'm gonna take this time to stir up some stank; I have so many ideas while working for 8-9 hours overnight (cuz anybody that REALLY knows me knows I start losing my mind around 2:00am). Lemme hitchall wit one of em...

Let's see... How about... The "N-famous" word! (<------that's my term. mine. all mine I tell u. MINE!) I was just thinking last night while I was working with a homeboy of mine; we should be collaborating on some tracks pretty soon. He's from New York; I'm from Georgia. It reminded me of something years ago when some cats from NY grouped up with some cats from GA. The result: NYGA. (Pronounce the "Y" as a short "i" if you didn't know) So here it is... 2005-2006 and the N-famous word is still being used rampantly and still causing untold headaches and controversy. Where am I on the issue? In my usual spot: not getting bent in the least. Perhaps if you walk with me for just a second, you'll understand why I'm at peace in the midst of the situation...

First of all, I'll tell you my objective view of the "N-famous word". It obviously started as a slurred derivative of the word "negro" meaning black or some other similar word of Latin origin, and possibly is a play on the word "niggard". No biggie there. But then somehow the slurred derivative became a derisive term used for insulting Blacks, especially in the United States (because one should understand that racism is not the same all over the world, nor is the institution of slavery. America is not the whole world; remember that.) Now the word has four uses: 1) it still remains as a derisive term used by anti-black racists; 2) it is used as a colloquial term in popular African-American culture; 3) this isn't widely known, but it is used by some Blacks who look down on "ignorant" Blacks--- they make a distinction between African-Americans and "N"s based on behavior; 4) it is used as a term to identify stupid people of all races.

Now, before I go any further, I need to stop and talk about something that I love and that my English teachers and other "professionals" will probably hate me for. I LOVE SLANG. Slang to me is an intimate variation of any language. Granted, some people speak slang because they never learned proper English; I'm not in favor of that. But there are those who speak it not because they have to or don't know any better, but because they choose to. Why choose slang? Because of the common bond. Think about it like this: when you first get a job somewhere, one of the first things you learn is the "lingo" of that place. The only people who know the lingo are those who work where you work; it becomes a common bond between those people. You might even create pet names for things around you. With slang, you can go from region to region and the slang will change. And the only people who can decipher that slang are the people within the circle; outsiders are left in the dark. Slang is something that's shared between members of similar groups, and even when new slang is created, it doesn't take long for people to figure out the meaning because their hearts are linked by their circumstances; they share the same spheres of life. Is that not, at least to some degree, a beautiful and intimate thing? It reminds me of how no two species of bird has the same song...

But anyway, here's what I'm getting at. The "N-famous" word, I believe, has become a part of African-American colloquial slang. Think about it: the "N-famous" word takes on totally different meanings depending on who says it. Am I saying it's okay to use it? No, that's not what I'm saying. Like I said before, this is my OBJECTIVE view, and this is how I see it without partiality or bias: it is considered both a slur and a gathering place at the same time. But it's nothing more than the person behind it: if it's said in hate from a racist, then it's a derogatory term; if it's said in ignorance by an ignorant person, then it's an stupid word; if it's said with no malice by a friend as a term of comradery, then it's a term of endearment.

But let's get to the good part: Am I for or against the "N-famous" word?(pause...it's so thick you can slice the air, ya know?) Sigh... as much as I like watching ya'll sweat bullets, relax. I'm against the N-word. But it might surprise you why. You remember when we were kids and somebody would get a toy, and then another kid would try to take the toy, and we'd tug-of-war and whine over it? What did older folks do to silence that? The took the friggin toy, that's what! Ladies and gentlemen, the "N-famous" word has become that toy. I'm not against it because of its nature or anything like that; I never lost sleep over a Black person saying "nigga" and I've only met one person of another race brave/foolish enough to say it, and she learned a valuable lesson (non-violent of course). I'm against the "N-famous" word because it's dividing Black people... again. I don't know if it's right or wrong to say it; could care less really. What I do know is plenty of cats get bent out of shape about it. But I refuse to be a part of this meaningless tug-of-war. Think about it: whoever wins, what will it really change? ...Not a thang. I know you're not foolish enough to think that somehow not using one word will raise the consciousness of the whole race... And anybody that knows me knows this: I don't waste energy on meaningless squabs. I'll throw the toy away before I scrap over it.

I might be misinterpreting, but somehow I think this is similar to what God was saying to us in Romans 14: "It is good neither to eat flesh nor to drink wine, nor anytyhing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended or made weak." In other words, the bigger image is not of whether or not using the "N-famous" word is kosher. The question is, is it worth dividing our people to find out? So here it is from me: if it offends somebody around me, then I'm gonna do my best not to use it. By the same token, if a homie comes up and daps me down on some "Whasup my nigga..." expect an "Ain' nuttin, nig. 'Chu been up to..." In the meantime, as I'm talkin 'bout this peace thang, I'm also working on blowing my Afro back out. Hope it doesn't offend any a' ya'll. If so, we'll do the wave then. No skin off my back. Shouts out to Clyde and Joe from the NY. Let's connect the NY to the GA and see who we can offend in this piece, lol...

All LoveB-J

Beautiful You (You Know Who You Are...)

(Sigh) Another semester comes to a close. A couple more exams and I'm done... again. And it's been a doosey; a doosey like I never imagined. Even as I think about it right now I'm thinking, "Not in a million years could/would/did this happen..." The phrase "time flies" has never meant so much and been so painful to me.

But enough about that. This is a special message. A lot of times I have things that I want to say that I don't, for one reason or another. But I think (and I do mean think) that I can safely say this here and finally get it off my chest. It's to the young lady who sits next to me in my East Asia class:

I just wanted to thank you. You might not think much of it, but you made this semester a lot easier on me. Otherwise it would've been (more) pure hell. It's nice to make friends along the way, especially when they're as beautiful as you...

As a matter of fact, I think I might have cut class more if you weren't so beautiful, lol. One thing I learned quickly is that you're a sharp dresser, so I always wondered what you'd be wearing the next time I saw you. I was laughing to myself the other day when Laura asked where you get your clothes from; guess I wasn't the only one that noticed. But I couldn't figure out if you were wearing the clothes or if the clothes were wearing you, ya know? I hope you don't mind me saying, but you have a beautiful figure. And I gotta say this, cuz this is something I usually don't even think to notice: you've got some of the cutest feet I've ever seen! I know that sounds wild, and no I don't use the word "cute" often 'cuz it's just not a word that brothas use... but it's TRUE! lol.

It wasn't just your beauty though; I also found your personality very refreshing. Even the small things like returning my emails (and not with the run-of-the-mill "yes" or "no", but with actual sentences, lol) and the time you told me I was "dependable" really made me think twice about surrendering to the enormous pressure I was under. I know so many other women like you who aren't nearly as down-to-earth. It just makes you that much more beautiful. And I still crack up about that episode when you wanted to know the Chinese symbols for "hate" and "betrayal". Not to mention the time you got mad at the professor for calling you "skinny"; you're like the first White girl I've ever seen get mad at somebody for calling her "skinny", lol.

Oh yeah... Not to mention... YOU ACTUALLY READ MY BLOG! Nobody actually reads my blog except my baby sister, this young kid from England, my best friend, and my homie from church. I already know you have a man and all that, but it's truly been a pleasure sitting next to you. Whoever your boyfriend is, he's one lucky cat.

All LoveB-J

The New Cliches (Is That Even Possible?)

I gave a presentation the other day in my history class. My speech was totally impromptu, and when I give impromptu speeches I usually throw in a cliche or two to give myself time to think. However, I try not to use the "real" cliches; most of the cliches I use are unique sayings that people have told me at points in my life that I've never heard before, nor have I heard since then. So I figured, why not write these down so I don't forget them. After all, I don't hear them that often.

So here's a list of some of my personal cliches. Most came from others, but a few came from myself as well. It's mostly for my own recollection, but I'm sure others will find them useful as well.

"History does not happen in a vacuum; it is continuous."

"A good writer never chooses a single word without purpose."

"A good lawyer doesn't tell you what you can't do; a good lawyer tells you what it will take for you to do what you want to do."

"With freedom comes responsibility, but with responsibility also comes freedom."

"When people act like animals, don't feed them."

"A round hole is open to a square object; that doesn't mean the square object will fit in."

"Soul [music] is from the inside out; pop [music] is from the outside in."

"Empathy is putting yourself in someone else's shoes; sympathy is getting a pair of those shoes for yourself."

"Death is a fact as if life is an act."

Tie Victory

Matthew 12:29 - Or else how can one enter into a strong man's house and spoil his goods, except he first bind the strong man? and then he will spoil his house.

So I've been pissed at my dad for quite some time now for his consistently less-than-grown actions; somewhere along the line I forgot that Satan is at the root of it all... I'm not ready to give up on my pops yet, but only because my mom would want it that way. So here it is: I gotta go thru the "strong man" in order to "spoil" whatever he's controlling, that being my father. I can't destroy the "strong man", but I can bind him. I just gotta learn how to do it. And I will learn; I got the chains right here. This battle has gone on too long and I've sat on too much anger to let this continue. I'm not gonna waste my life being manipulated by my own bloodline... It's just not gonna happen. And Lord-willing, when I have my own family, I'm gonna be three times the father and husband my pops has been. He may have helped give me existence, but it was God, through my mother, that gave me life. And it's time I show him the difference between living and merely existing.

All Love

Party At Target...

Yeah, we got a Christmas party on the 8th not actually at Target, but just a gathering of Target employees. Should be very interesting with the beautiful daytime emplyees, but this is all beside the point...

What I wanna know is what the hegg was goin on in the backroom Friday Night at Target? Usually weird stuff happens at sparse intervals; I think I got all my weird in one night for the rest of 2005 and midway thru 2006.

1). First, one of my homies got to telling me about his marital problems, which I dont' mind at all, but it's just not something I expect to happen... Okay, yes I do. People always tell me their problems. Matter of fact...

2). A cat I never met before came to me and asked for change for a $5 bill. I pulled four ones really quickly and he laughed because I had a bunch of ones. I always have a bunch of ones, and because of that people always say I must hit strip clubs, so I intercepted him and said, "And no, I don't have a lot of ones because I hit strip clubs. I'm a Christian." Turns out he wasn't thinking that anyway, but he WAS thinking about getting saved. So boom, I end up spending waaay too much time trying to convince him to take that step. I know my supervisor was a little ticked at me, but I THINK I did the right thing. I think...

3). The homie that told me about his marital problems earlier came back later on and asked if he could look at my shoes. "???" I'm thinking, but I said "Sure..." I propped my foot up on a tub full of boxes. Then he asked what size I wore. "13." Turns out, he bought some shoes similar to mine and he didn't like em and wanted to get rid of em. He asked if I wanted em and I said, "Sure, how much?" He responded, "Who said I was charging..." Cool, right?

4). I'm working hard trying ot make up for the time I lost earlier in the night, when a female coworker, prolly in her mid-30s stops by my aisle. "Are you married?" she asks. I don't know if it was the question she asked, the fact that she asked it, or the fact that I was so focused on my work, but I couldn't answer right away. Seems like it should be so obvious, right? "Uhhhh... no, I'm not." She laughed and responded, "You had to think about it. I'll ask again in about a week..." ...Uh... I think I'm in trouble folks.

5). The same lady comes back later on adn asks if I'm alright. I say, "Yes ma'am. Why do you ask?" She said she hadn't seen me doing anything but restocking the whole night without taking a break. But I explained that I took my regular break (minus about 5 minutes), my usual 30 minute lunch break, plus the impromptu "get fired for Jesus" break. She said, "Okay, just making sure everything's good with you." But I really appreciated her asking tho. That was real cool.

6). One of the cats that trained me asked me out of the blue which high school I went to. "Went to Richmond, graduated from Hephzibah." He told me he graduated from Richmond in 93, which he had told me before. Then it thought about it... "Maybe you know one of my cousins then..." Turns out he knows BOTH of them, the Lewis family in general (I'm not actually a Lewis, but I am; you know how that goes...), PLUS friends of the family! So, aside from my other schoolmate from Richmond, I finally got someone at my job that's kinda familiar... sorta.

How's that for one night of action? Of course, my biggest concerns right now are the Party coming up, where I'll get to meet some wonderful people (B-J), and what's about to happen when this lady "pops the question" on me again. As if I wasn't already doing enough praying at work...

All LoveB-J

P.S. - 96.3 KISS FM, keep doin it to def every night for all us freaks on the graveyard shift, aight!