Thursday, December 17, 2009

THE COLOR PURPLE, TIGER WOODS and Magic JOHNSON: The black woman still can't get paid!

"Until you do right by me, everything you even think about gonna fail!

"I’m poor, black, I might even be ugly, but dear god, I’m here. I’m here

"You a low down dirty dog, that’s what’s wrong. Time for me to get away from you, and enter into creation - Celie, FROM THE COLOR PURPLE

Okay my fine fellow blogites there’s a fork in the road, which way should I go? Well,
throughout this whole debacle concerning Tiger Woods, the black women still can’t get paid.

**The curtain rises on The Color Purple**
Ladies and gentle, I present The Color Purple, starring Magic Johnson and Tiger Woods.

Old Mr: (referring to Shug) She black as tar, nappy-headed, got legs like baseball bats, and I hear she got that nasty women’s disease.

Magic Johnson says: "I’ll take some of that"

Magic Johnson, with his freaky ass, was on The Jimmy Kimmel Show. Jimmy had the nerve to ask the negro pimping’, easy credit ripoff bastard, what he thought about the Tiger Woods incident. Magic's inconsiderate ass, had the nerve to throw a black woman on the floor. He had the nerve to put his wife, Cookie, back in the fire.

Hadn’t she faced enough humiliation and scrutiny? Wasn’t it her baby that had to be tested for Aids? Why on earth would Magic say "what Cookie would have done." Isn’t Magic still breathing and selling dreams? Did she bust HIS goddamn head, or poke him in his ass like the slimy pig that he is? The gull of this man to have any comment on this subject by throwing his wife in the fray. Cookie should have cut off his wiener.

I’ve grown tired of the opinion that a black women would have done something different upon finding out their husband had taken refuge in another valley of love? I mean, when their husbands were screwing at the slip & easy, every black woman is not going to act like ape lady?
But why the insistence on painting the black women as savage beasts that lets their emotions consume them? Granted, it’s true that some black women would have cut Tiger deep down to the white meat. But that’s not true of all black women.

Do you remember Celie? I think some black women would take the graceful road. You know, just turn around and leave them in their mess.
Do you remember when Celie said "The jail you planned for me is the one you’re gonna rot in. You a low down dirty dog that’s what’s wrong"... "Time for me to get away from you, and enter into Creation
Well, I was talking to my cousin yesterday. She reminded me that our grandmother was color struck. Our grandmother, who is black, saw no problem with black man desiring a white woman. Okay, there's nothing wrong with her voicing her opinion. But, she said white women will do more for you than a colored woman. My cousin, who was very young at the time, was impressionable and never disrespected our grandmother. She didn’t voice a dissenting view because she really didn’t have one. She remembered that day because my brother, who was older than she, dropped by and heard our grandmother's comment. He too was respectful to our grandmother, however my cousin said his eyes spoke volumes. In an even and serious voice, he told my grandmother that she shouldn’t say things like that, because it was wrong. My cousin Shellie, said my brother was her guy from that day on. He voiced an opposing to our grandmother, and he stood up for black women. More so, not that it was our grandmother - she saw a way to disagree and yet stay respectful.

While my cousin and I were talking, we wondered what messages Tiger and men like him, are sending to their children. If they only date white women or championed white women, what would they possibly be telling their mixed children? What...they are not good enough, or they are inferior to white woman? The children might even project their father’s disdain of black women upon themselves, and surmise that he doesn’t really love them. They are black.

Evil lurks in the hearts of man.

Sofia, talking to Celie: "I sat in that jail til I near about done rot to death. I know what it like to wanna go crazy. And when I seed you - I know’d there is a God. I know’d there is a God"

Celie: "I’m poor, black, I might even be ugly, dear God. I’m here. I’m here".

All black women are not animals that are fueled by lust, violent activity and ignorance. If you think so, you're a fool or a women hater. You might as well bark at the moon. Black women may get mad, and they may hold resentments, and thus, emote, however, many will not use the edge of a sword to voice their disdain. Some have a belief that it’s gonna be all right in the morning... no matter how long the night.

The struggles of being a black woman can only be expressed by a black woman. Yet I am left to believe that black woman still can’t get paid. In the circle of respect, I’ve noticed their respect frequently comes as an after thought.

So if Tiger had been married to a black woman and flicked thang at a bunch of scanks, things would have been different? How so, lets count the ways? But first, it’s obvious to me that continuing the stereotypical myth that white women are more passive and understanding than black women, only serves to stratify them above woman of color. Imo, that myth is disrespectful to black women and is frequently used as an excuse by black men to continue their misguided ways of exclusively dating white women.

I am going to flip the script. Personally, if I found out my lady was running off to the hideaway hotel with several different men, I wouldn’t whoop that ass, I’d leave that ass. I wouldn’t play myself by busting out windows or busting her head. I would not be food for fodder.

Take a bow Magic Johnson. Give up that money Tiger Woods. You've played yourself.

.**************The curtain closes******************.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

No More More Tears In These Clouds

MISUNDERSTOOD: I said I cried last night, didn’t say I died last night.

Came through the storm, was all right last night.

I cried tears of joy.

I wanted to be with them, not in them.

A longing for their presence

Had a hole, a role

Could have filled it with another star

But the part was made for them.

Others could have pulled it off

Everybody would have been paid

But that part was made for them.

Who said it?

I didn't.I said they left, too many nights filled with images of them.

Too many vows broken, the pain--had nothing left in my heart

Nothing but disdain for them.

What did you read?

The paper said divorced, not used,not someone’s unwanted item to be taken for granted and taken to the resale shop

It said divorced, not nearly new... should say new.

Does it say I am not whole?

Is there an asterisk saying I am missing parts?

Where did it say I was void of love, compassion, hope ...dreams?

Does divorce strip a man of his manhood?

Does divorce imply that a women is love-less?

Where does it say nuclear waste!?

I fell down, rolled around, I got up.

That road is behind me.

My road is in front of me.

Read it again, did it say I was a toy to be played with?

Did it say spin this, use this, anyone can do THIS? it one more time.

I doubt it...

I doubt it said without principles, absent of love.
Is softness and strong bold convictions the sole possessions of newlyweds.

If you think so, you got me twisted, convuluted

You have me confused...MISUNDERSTOOD!

This post was inspired by two women. The first woman, Mizrepresent encouraged me to blog and it's been a wonderful journey. Also, the above piece was brought to life a couple of years ago, by our earlier conversations. I can't tell you where we met or where we've been, because if I did, I'd have to kill you.

The second woman, Cookie, is the author of yesterdays poem. She's going to read "Misunderstood" at a New Years Eve celebration.

The end of the year is near. I started blogging this year. Wonderful people have stopped by to share a laugh and to share bits of wisdom. Some have dropped by to put me in check, and lord knows, I surely need that.

If you have time, take a walk back through my blog year. I am sure you'll find yourself in that mess... somewhere. You might even laugh again or cry again.

Thanks for helping me along on my maiden year of blogging!

Blog Archive
2009 (115)
December (5)
I Do Not Remember Days, I Remember Moments.
Albino "Tiger": Without his woody.
Don't Touch My PC! Take my money but don't touch ...
Yeah You! You're Acting like A Pawn! You're A Ro...
November (17)
Mary "Mo`nique" Jones vs Ray "Jamie Fox" Charles...
Don't Look Now, Ol'Skool Gotta Brand New Bag!
Excuse Me While I flip My Thang.
Harriet Tubman vs Oprah Winfrey. N**ga Please, don...
Pacquiao vs Mayweather vs My Son: I need space
The Bible: Can We Talk?
No Rant, Just me.
Black Bloggers Family Reunion, 2009. **chuckle**
8:30PM - 11:30PM Friday 13th November 2009.... A P...
Family Reunion: The blogsphere is a smogasbord!
If You Were My Girlfriend.... Again?
MY GOD!!! 100 Postals! Blog-gers - 75 strong!
PAY ATTENTION!.... Attention Wh*res.
Look, up in the sky, it's a blogger, it's a writer...
Why DID I Think Of That?
Fools Welcome: Only if you raise your hand.
October (12)
CAREER OPENINGS! Degree helpful but not required.
Holy Mackerel: They were much more than coons.
Look....Up In The Sky.
What You Are Speaks So Loudly, I can't hear what y...
Twitter Is a Drive-Bye. Get Ready-Get Set-Go-Away....
Is It Love Or Just My Imagination?
A True Love Story: The good, The bad, and The Hor...
You Say I am A Mot**er F**ker. Like that's a bad ...
Pimpin' Ain't Easy - Neither Is Lying.
I Need A Priest. Who's Really Listening?
Who Gives A Fat F**k!!!
It's Like A Poison Soaked Into The Ground!
September (6)
You Can't Turn A Ho Into A Housewife - that's what...
It's A Rap, I am Done. Explanation.
It's A Rap.
BLOG FIGHT!!! Big RiPPa vs The Freeman.
The Gong Show ...Blog Style. Some debaters deserv...
Peek-A-Boo, I See You! ....Behind Every Great Man ...
August (10)
COMFORT!!! My Quicksand -- My Lover-- My Drudger -...
There's Nothing Wrong With A Little "Bump"-n-Wine....
God Must Have A Layaway Plan ....Or Maybe I Need ...
Sometimes I Need Love! Sometimes My Words Take Me ...
A Toast To Troy Davis! A NEW TRIAL! Re-Posts
Shut The F*ck Up, So I Used A Cuss Word - Alright ...
How Low Can You Blow -- Your Trumpet ....Lisa Vazu...
Sunday I Pray -- Well -- And Other Things!
Black Jeopardy -- The Blogsphere
The Rev. Ike -- Ike Turner -- Iceberg Slim. Too Lo...
July (13)
June (13)
May (5)
April (21)
March (13)

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Albino "Tiger": Without his woody.

Can we take a deep breath on Tiger Woods. Let those that have black skin cast the first stone. I mean, do you care to test you blackness? Beware, take this test at your own risk. You might have to hand over your blackness card.

You're blacker than me if you get all these right. I fluked. I'm a white guy.

Black Intelligence Test of Cultural Homogeneity

1. A “handkerchief head” is: a. a cool cat b. a porter c. an Uncle Tom d. a hoddi e. a preacher

2. Which word is most out of place here? a. splib b. blood c. gray d. spook e. black

3. A “gas head” is a person who has a: a. fast-moving car b. stable of “lace” c. ”process” d. habit of stealing cars e. long jail record for arson

4. ”Bo Diddley” is a: a. game for children b. down-home cheap wine c. down-home singer d. new dance e. Moejoe call

5. ”Hully Gully” came from: a. East Oakland b. Fillmore c. Watts d. Harlem e. Motor City

6. Cheap chitlings (not the kind you purchase at a frozen food counter) will taste rubbery unless they are cooked long enough. How soon can you quit cooking them to eat and enjoy them? a. 45 minutes b. 2 hours c. 24 hours d. 1 week (on a low flame) e. 1 hour

7. What are the “Dixie Hummingbirds?” a. part of the KKK b. a swamp disease c. a modern gospel group d. a Mississippi Negro paramilitary group e. Deacons

8. If you throw the dice and 7 is showing on the top, what is facing down? a. 7 b. snake eyes c. boxcars d. little Joes e. 11

9. ”Jet” is: a. an East Oakland motorcycle club b. one of the gangs in “West Side Story” c. a news and gossip magazine d. a way of life for the very rich

10. T-Bone Walker got famous for playing what? a. trombone b. piano c. ”T-Flute” d. guitar e. hambone

11. ”Bird” or “Yardbird” was the “jacket” that jazz lovers from coast to coast hung on: a. Lester Young b. Peggy Lee c. Benny Goodman d. Charlie Parker e. ”Birdman of Alcatraz”

12. Hattie Mae Johnson is on the Country. She has four children and her husband is now in jail for non-support, as he was unemployed and was not able to give her any money. Her welfare check is now $286 per month. Last night she went out with the highest player in town. If she got pregnant, then nine months from now how much more will her welfare check be? a. $80 b. $2 c. $35 d. $150 e. $100

13. ”Money don’t get everything it’s true.” a. but I don’t have none and I’m so blue b. but what it don’t get I can’t use c. so make do with what you’ve got d. but I don’t know that and neither do you

14. How much does a short dog cost? a. $0.15 b. $2.00 c. $0.35 d. $0.05 e. $0.86 plus tax

15. Many people say that “Juneteenth” (June 19) should be made a legal holiday because this was the day when: a. the slaves were freed in the USA b. the slaves were freed in Texas c. the slaves were freed in Jamaica d. the slaves were freed in California e. Martin Luther King was born f. Booker T. Washington died


Btw, this test was courtesy of PPR_Scribe. She says she hates this kind of sh*t. I think Harvard was recruiting blacks and she failed the test :-).

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Don't Touch My PC! Take my money but don't touch my lover.

BUZZ KILL -- Don't Blow My High!

The Loud Pen said she was tired of ranting and complaining about her station in life. That's a good thang. She said her dreams and wishes of a life like Beyonce' has to be put on hold. I like that. Her obsession with fame and fortune was causing her to lose sleep and made her constipated. That's not good, that's ugly.

But see, I'm not trying to be her Metamucil. I'm just sitting in for her. She needs a slight break. I am her guest blogger. My name is CareyCarey.
I used to smoke marijuana and drink plenty of yak. Oh yeah, I'd put on Miles Davis and kiss the world goodbye... "Kiss my ass you cold world, I don't need you"... I didn't need a lot of people back then. No sir buddy, they might have ask for some of my smoke and jacked with my high.

It's much like my love for my PC. You've heard it before, Aretha said it: "Company is alright with me, every once in a while. But when me and my baby start makin' love"... get the hell away from me - okay!

See, I don't complain about many things in life, I really don't. I've been somewhere that I am not trying to go back to, so I've learned how to just cool out. But there are some things that really get on my last nerve. Really - don't mess with my high - don't kill my buzz. In other words - don't jack with my goddamn computer.
Really, I'd rather be locked in a room for 4 days with The Long Pen, Paris Hilton, one of those Scanks In The City and any one of those Housewives from Atlanta, than to have someone jack with my PC. And I can't stand any one of those TV tramps. Well, The Long Pen is my girl and I haven't seen her on TV... yet.

I kid you not, I draw the line on that sh*t. Yes, my nose is open. Yes, I've been sprung. Yes-Yes-Yes, I have a Jones for my new lover -- my PC.
No-No-No, a thousand times NO! I'd rather die than to let someone surf my web.

I didn't come by this decision without a little drama. Well, one time my computer crashed, so I had to take it to the shop. When I went to recover it, the technician gave me the funky side-eye. I wanted to ask him WTH was he looking at. But instead I politely asked him what was on his mind. He told me he was required by law to report any unusual "activity" on any hard drives that he repairs. Okay, I wondered what this had to do with me. Before I had time to ask him any more questions, he pulled out a picture of somebodies naked ass. Yeah, and in another picture somebody was groping a pair of naked balls. Now, mind you, this was my computer but I didn't buy it new. Plus, I have been known to leave my computer unattended while a few of my friends were around. Since perverts and nasty Mfers come in all shapes and sizes, it's possible one of them pricks could have satisfied their voyeurism on my PC.

Look, I couldn't ask all my friends which one of them could have possibly made a mistake and ventured off the beaten path. How do you do some sh*t like that? Anyway, I decided to set a trap. Oh yeah, I knew a snake would remain a snake. But, back in my mind, I had a few reservations about this trap thang. What if it was my lady? Damn, that's messed up *lol*. But, what if it was my mother? Damn, that's really messed up. What if it was the woman I've been creeping with? Come on now, that's a joke. I was just checking to see if you were still with me.

Okay, here was the plan. There's this invisible ink, that police departments use to catch a thief. It's on the line of that die they put in bank robbery money bags. Once that mess gets on your hands, it's damn near impossible to get off. It's activated by moisture. Well, I couldn't decide if I should put it on a certain number of keys or just on the mouse. My lady and I have a deal. I don't mess with "her" stuff and she doesn't mess with mine. She will even bring me my pants if I ask her to get something out of my billfold. Isn't that what all women do? I mean, don't all women know not to go in a man's wallet?

Anyway, she does clean around my PC, so I didn't want a false positive, therefore I abandoned the mouse idea. I started to go back and ask the side-eye "Dick Tracy" technician if there was an address to the "suspicious" sites. You know, so I could concentrate on a few key letters. But I thought better of that. I didn't want to end up on the 10 o'clock news.

Finally I had set my trap. I was like a child on Christmas Eve. I was giddy with excitement. Anticipating the look on the culprits face, I almost pissed on myself. I was crackin' up. But see, sometimes the best laid plans have a few problems.

I stopped by my corner grocery store to buy me a pack of gum. Oh yeah, gotta keep that breath fresh. While I was paying for my purchase, the clerk asked me if I was getting ready for a football game. I was surprised at the question so I asked him "why". Come to find out, I had markings under my eyes that football players use to block the glare of the sun. Damn it, I had stepped in my own doo-doo. I had forgot I had set my trap and got captured by my own game. Damn, what a clown?!

Nevertheless, I love my PC and I love to blog. So may position remains the same. Don't fondle my love. Don't kill my buzz - don't kill my high. Don't mess with my computer! I've found love on a one way street. You can't touch this :-)


Friday, November 27, 2009

THIS IS MINE AND YOU CAN'T TAKE IT. You Can't Make Me, You Can't Make Me.

You can talk all you want, it’s still... NO! No-No-No, a thousand times NO! I’d rather die than say yes!

I’ve been somewhere. Not just a place and time, but in my heart and in my mind. I’ve been so entrenched in my opinion, self-centeredness and insecurities, that I couldn’t smell my own shit.
It’s safe to say I was stuck on stupid.

I asked a group of men if we can learn anything from a fool? One said, "we can learn to stay away from them". Okay, I can agree with that, but, is that sort of a rudimentary solution to a problem we encounter every day? Come on, you know it... "clowns on the left of me, jokers on the right, stuck in the middle with theses fools. Er'body can see a fool - right ? Well, before you shake your head in agreement, let me tell you a short story.

Those that have followed my blog, already know that I was convicted of bank robbery. Oh, you didn’t know it? Now you do. But see, back then, I thought I was cool and had all the right answers. While I was locked up, it suddenly dawned on me that I was locked up with a bunch of fools. Ut oh, so what did that make me? If 1 plus 1 = 2, I was the biggest fool on the block because I thought I had all the right answers and resisted any hints or suggestions that I didn't.

One of the qualities of a fool, by definition, is to be a simpleton; one that is easily deceived or duped. But see, in most cases a fool doesn’t know they’re a fool until it’s brought to their attention. Damit, lets see, if a fool thinks he has all the answers, but in his heart doesn’t want to be a fools, isn’t he entrenched in tomfoolery for the rest of his life? Well, possible, but I don’t think so.

Referring back to that group of men, one gentleman said, "a fool can teach us how NOT to be a fool". I wonder if that's right. Wait, don’t agree too quickly.

I knew what he meant but he went deep and I didn’t expect the following. He said, " everybody knows the moves of a fool, except the fool"..... he then paused and pointed a finger at himself. At first I didn’t catch it. I thought he was calling himself a fool or that we've all been a fool. To some degree that was his point, but there was a hidden message. He went on to surmise that unless a person wanted to be a fool or remain a fool, they had to come to the realization that everyone can see the ways of a deceitful fool. Damn, so that means if others can spot a fool, they can see it in ME? Damn, that has to be right - right? So a fool, in essence, is a mirror? Damn, that’s right? So, most know when I'm standing on stupid? Yep, that’s right too. Wait 1 damn minute. Am I to believe that lies, stupitity, and entrenched self delusion is written all over my face and in my words? Damn, why didn’t someone tell me? A wrong person or messy person will move away from a right minded individual. Conversely, a person standing on strong character, will eventually get tired of a phony fool.

I once had a cousin tell me that if I didn’t concede to the suggestions of others, whom had my best interest at heart, they would stopped giving me good advice and then eventually move away from me. She said I should at least find a bit of humbleness and courage to say I may have been wrong in my judgement. It was her opinion that If I gave an indication that I was going to remain woefully resentful and overly combative of any suggestions or opinions that differed from mine, I would be lost in my own space.

It’s my opinion that real change doesn’t come into a persons life until they find themselves in a very painful place. I mean, if you show me a 5th grader that's immensed in destructive behavior, mentally and physically, in most cases I will show you a grown-ass asshole. I realize that’s basic theory 101, but it’s real. Heck, why change if there's nothing wrong.

As babies we cried to express our feelings. The prize was comfort. As adults, many individuals find comfort in being right, at all cost. Even it they are wrong, they will never admit that to another person or to themselves. What’s up with that? You've seen it, sure you have. It could be at a blog, at you job or at your home but you've seen it. Most have seen the mentally dishonest person that refuses to say "Uncle". Hey, I've been one. Is it me. Have you ever seen that person?

btw, if you feel comfortable enough to leave a comment, you can do it here or in the voice comments (snapvine) above this post. Just click the link.


Sunday, November 15, 2009

Black Bloggers Family Reunion, 2009. **chuckle**

************************ The annual Bloggers reunion ***************************

Hello ladies and gentlemen, I will be your MC for today. My name is Frankenstein, some call me Blogenstein. As you know we are gathered here today for our year end celebration of the blodsphere. I can not express how important it is for the side chatter to be kept to a minimum. We have a large crowd, including lurkers.

Wait a minute, what the heck is going on over there?

Anyway, for all that may be listening via radio or reading closed caption, the following words were actually voiced by the bloggers. Now of course, if you’ve been following the blogsphere, you know that words can sometimes get lost in translation but no words have been changed.

MC: Excuse me ... young man... you over there, we are about to get started, what is going on?

RiPPa: Black folks protesting, Obama is nothing but White power in Black face.

MC: Come on RiPPa, don’t start that sh*t up in here, but who are you talking about?

RiPPa: Black radicals.

MC: RiPPa, this is not your house, sit your ass down, this ain’t Memphis. Some negroes just don’t know how to act. A person says "who", and then Von and RiPPa says coons.

Maybe we should start by revisiting the reunion from last year. I hear there were a few love connections. Who would like to start? I see a hand raised.

A. Smith: Oh gosh. I remember when things went down the toilet. He asked me if I would remember anything good about our relationship and I told him no. I regret doing that everyday.

MC: I don’t mean to get personal but why did you tell him no?

A. Smith: I said "no" more because I felt like it was all his fault than anything else. Since that time I've become aware of how narrow-sighted and selfish that was. I was not perfect, I was horribly imperfect and I get that.

MC: *** whispering to a guy sitting next to him...*** " I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about but it sounds like ol’boy asked her for a little of that honey pot and she said no"

Thank you A. Smith. Is that man in here tonight? Oh, there he is. Would you like to tell your side of the story?

UglyBlackJohn: Okay, which one?- The one I sent to England for a semester at college so I could have more time to cheat on her only to have her meet the guy she would marry.- The one who was my dream girl, but I had to get that last piece (from a girl I'd wanted to hit for a month) before settling for "The One" only to get caught because I gave her (the dream girl) the
clap?- The one that was perfect in every way except she was only 5'6' (below my minimum 5'7" height minimum)?

MC: No No No, sit yo’ nasty ass down! No wonder your name is Ugly Black John, Cuz you, black jack, are a damn fool.

Could someone please share a story of the fun time they had last year? Yes... you over there.

Anonymous: Last reunion started off great as they always do, seeing everybody, laughing, dancing and lots of drinking and along with drinking came some beefing. Oh yeah, i cousin this and that arguing, autie so and so cyring at the bar, uncle bean-boys wife was showing her titties to everybody...before long.....

MC: Hold it right there, did you say your aunt showed her tittie?

Anonymous: Yeah, but long after some more drinks were consumed all hell broke was like a the biggest dayum full moon you have ever witnessed, it was the kind of full moon that teased evil to come out to play and evil did... in a really bad way. I'm driving home only to arrive to my bruh and his wife fighting in the front yard...yep knockdown drag out fighting...get a call from my sister that my two brothers got into a fight and one of them threw the other out the car...uncle bean-boy and his wife was breaking up and the kicker, my ex was saying "i told you so...told your family was crazy".

MC: I see why you post under anonymous. Your family is some crazy Mfers. If I can asked, did you get remarried?

Anonymous: Nope, but I do have a help wanted sign.

MC: Good luck!

Is there anyone that has a more pleasing story?

Anonymous II: I have a story.

MC: Wait, dude,what is it with you anonymous clowns?

Anonymous II: Don’t make me cut you. I remember a reunion many years ago. I was barely a teenager when this one went down but it was quite memorable. To start off the mess there was a dinner and and band/dance afterwards. It was similar to showin' up to you cousin's wedding on a few Saturday in July.... a full open bar for the whole evening. Let's just say everyone had a very good time. Even the band.

I was wondering why the older folks were acting a little bit stranger than the strange they usually were after one of this shindigs. People are basically falling over everywhere I looked. But the frosting on the cake was the sight as we were being pushed out the door as we were leaving. One look and it was obvious the band had taken advantage of the free drinks. Under one of the tables close to the dance floor there was the drummer. He was completely naked. I mean he didn't even have his socks on anymore. And he was passed out under one of the long tables lying on his back.

MC: DAYUM! Butt naked drummers and aunts showing titties, what the heck is going on? Is there anyone that had a good time last year?

*********** Jack & Jill Politics (blog)were heard whispering in the corner ***************

" I don’t know why I let you convince me to come to this event. These Ni**as have no class. I wish they would talk about all the important issues and not this buffoonery"

MC: Mr. Jack, do you or Ms. Jill have something you want to say?

Jack & Jill Politics: Yeah, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar discusses his leukemia with Keith Olbermann.

MC: *** leaning over to talk to his friend *** "See, every time you let one of those black bourgeoisies bring their black perspective to this kind of party, they always bring a white man"

Excuse me Jack, or was it Jill, you were doing alright until you mentioned Keith Olbermann. Sit down yo ass down.

Wait one damn minute..... sista girl, what are you doing?

Womanmusing: Often drive by trolls show up who have not had the decency to get their 101 on.

MC: *** Again, leaning over to his buddy*** ...."should I give her the mike?" Friend: NOPE!

MC: Thank you Ms. Musings, you can take your seat.

I think it’s time we move to the awards ceremonies. Any words?

PPR_Scribe: Please click for me.

RiPPa: Vote for me.

MacDaddy: This is a serious problem, click the link for me.

Robynmarie: Can I say something?

MC: Yes you may, but can I call you Brown Robin?

Robynmarie: Brown Robin? I like that!

******* The MC’s buddy leans his way....****** "I got a brown round robin for her. That woman is gorgeous, she gets my vote" MC: "Be quiet boy, you see those womanists over there"
MC: That reminds me, do we have any church folk in here?

The Black Church: Yes Frankenstein, Gospel rapper
Da’ T.R.U.T.H.
announced that:
"in light of a moral indiscretion in my personal life, I will be taking a sabbatical from music ministry and teaching upon fulfilling my current commitments to work closely with my pastor, church, and restoration team."

I respect Da Truth a lot more because he came out and said something... Right now, there’s talk going around about Tye Tribbett…Right now he’s not acknowledging or admitting to anything...But if it turn out that he did get someone pregnant who was not his wife and he has lied and denied his sin and wouldn't take responsibility for his actions, let’s just say I’m not gonna be a fan any more....That's how Jay Moss lost me as a fan of his music.

MC: Bless us lord, who said we needed TMZ or Wendy Williams.

Solomon: I say the final Jepordy answer is "Who is a playa, a pimp, or a thug!"
MC: Mr. Solomon, What! Have you have lost your damn mind, how in the hell did you come to that conclusion.? I mean, where did that come from? Who said anything about a pimp or a thug? Btw, aren’t you the guy that comments on a regular basis but doesn’t have a door to his blog???

***** Solomon is quiet ****

Tha L : Damn Blogenstein! Why you gotta treat my girl soul like that? I oughta smack the shit outta you. But I guess it's all in fairness, right?

MC: What do you mean your girl soul? I thought Solomon was a dude?

Soul: I am a womanist. Being a womanist is not 'deeper than feminism' it is simply addresses my needs and issues more

MC: Don’t get mad at me.... remember, I am Frankenstein. My heart belongs to Miz, my loud mouth belongs to The Loud Pen, I am a member of the black church, and my voice is that of RiPPa and FreeMan. So go tell it on the mountain.

Telisha: To be quite honest I am a bit confused as to what a feminist is exactly.From my observation they just appear to be very angry women who have not resolved and confronted their REAL issues and find it easier to pick apart and attack men or women who are open-minded?

MC: Now that’s what I’m talking about! That’s a smart woman right there.... And FIONE too.
**** Blogenstein sends his boy out to get those digits ****

BigMacInPittsburg: I come in peace ladies and will let RiPPa and CareyCarey take the heat. But my eyes were open this morning with all of the comments. I'll just keep listening and maybe I'll learn a thing or two.

MC: Now, if that ain’t a booty call, I’ll kiss your ass. I mean, WTF Big Mac? Oh, I get it, you are trying to be true to your name. Yep, BigMacInPittsburg is trying to lay some big pipe. If you don’t get yo’ simpin’ ass outta here.

BigMacInPittsburg: Truth be told I don't have many reunions to speak of that I can share ,my lifestyle 20-40ish was party city 24-7. I never attended simply because I was to stupid to understand its importance. Today I try to support our reunions and try hard to preserve our rich family history.

MC: Oh hell nawl. You can’t get your Internet pimp on up in here playa. I’ll tell you what, go find Ms. A. Smith, she’s ready to say yes.

Big Mac: But!?

MC: But my ass negro.... SCOOT!

The MC Blogenstein leans over to his buddy one mo gin: "Hey man, go fire up the ride, we’re outta here"

*** Blogenstein and CareyCarey were seen exiting a rear door, A voice came across the PA system*****

"Well, it looks like it’s been one. Thanks for attending the black blog reunion 2009. You don’t have to go home but you have to get your black ass outta here. Drive safe and tell a friend where you got it. Holla!"


Family reunions, you gotta love 'em.

Friday, November 13, 2009

8:30PM - 11:30PM Friday 13th November 2009.... A Piece Of Heaven!

Book it, mark it, write it down, I just saw the Micheal Jackson Video. My world stopped for 3 hours. I could not believe how time was suspended as I sat mesmerized by Micheal Jackson. I don't believe I've ever felt so much joy packed into a 3 hour period. I am not saying this just to say it, I felt it! Never in my life have my emotions been so free. I know this may sound trite, but no words can express the gift that Micheal Jackson bestowed upon me. Man that felt good.

I danced with him, I sang with him. I went back with him, I dropped a tear for him.

Memories are so precious, so I just had to share that experience with you.

You know what, I am going back to get me another bump of that!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Family Reunion: The blogsphere is a smogasbord!

Okay, here we go! "GIVE ME TWENTY YEARS JUDGE CAREY, I AM GUILTY. Its a good thing when we can check each other" - Big Mac in Pittsburgh

I guess my blogging has not gone in vane. See, I had to put ol'bigmac attack on check mate. Well, I didn't have to, and it was all in jest, but he gave me an idea. It started when we were over at my blog doing what grown men do... talk about women *wink*. The conversation wasn't centered on women but Ol'Mac let something fall out of his mouth that needed a little -- lets say -- cleaning up.

But through that discussion, I found an idea. See, Mac in Pittsburgh is a professional. He works for a chemical company, but first and foremost, he's a black man. In such, we get out of pocket - sometimes. But this post is not about Big Mac or woman. It's about the smorgasbord of this thang called the blogsphere. It kind of reminds me of a family reunion.

Ut OH, I know you feel me coming. Yep, Big Momma and all the offspring are coming to town! Of course this post is not for those whom take themselves too seriously. Nope, it's not that kind of party.

But first I need a little help because it doesn't appear as if I'm going to be able to do this alone. Here's the setup. We've all been to a family reunion of some sort - right? I love family reunion and I love this blog thing. Well, I've noticed a few similarities in the two. Are you with me? I know you are. So, because I need your help in writing this post, here's what I want you all to do. Think of a situation, person, group of people, type of person or event that happens at a family reunion, that mirrors such in the blog world.

I don't want to put words in your mouth, but I can think about card games and the voices around that event. I can also see food and the conversations around that. I see a variety of walk and talk and dress and drunks.

And see, this post is not only going to be about the smorgasbord of the blogsphere, I want it to be the voice of several bloggers. Here's what I am looking for. We all know there's a gossip corner at family reunions... "Girl, I don't know who she thinks she is, I remember when she....".

How about drunk Uncle Willie.... "Willie, sit yo' drunkass down somewhere, you ain't talking about nothing"

How about the sh*t talkers at the domino table. Yep, it's a place where everybody is talking mess and telling lies.... "Get on your job boy, get in that bone yard. You ain't never played a man as good as me"

That's what I am looking for. I am looking for experiences from family reunions that parallels, to some degree, those in the blogsphere. This will not be a hot blast at anyone, it's gonna be funny -- I hope.

But here's the deal. You don't have to post your additions under your usual blog name. In fac,t I'd prefer that you didn't. Post them under anonymous. This way, everyone can play and not have to worry about their words. But if you want to post under your name, go right ahead.

After I get a number of ideas/additions, I am going to hookup the post.

See you in the funny papers. This is going to be fun. Don't be scared (lurkers too). It's all in a fun day in the vast world called the blogsphere. Sometimes we need a break from reality.

Friday, November 6, 2009

MY GOD!!! 100 Postals! Blog-gers - 75 strong!

There was an old lady, that lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn't know what to do... there was a man there too.

You will not believe this story! At first I thought it was a joke, but little did I know - it was true. Maybe you've read this already but let me start with the man in this story. He's the father of 100 babies! Did you hear me, One Hundred babies. But wait.... here's the kicker, he's not that old. On the surface one might consider him a trifling Mfer - okay. Yet, isn't bigamy permissible in some states? Now I am just asking the questions because I don't know, but don't some rulers have control over their own domains and in such, write their own laws?

Well, this man apparently has some control over his domain because he's been doing a bunch of screwing.... I mean screwing up. Can you imagine the time it must takes to make 100 babies? Not to mention the blank shots. I did the math, and I was shocked. I don't know his exact age (down to the minute) but lets say he started his career at 16. I believe the report said he was over 50. Okay, lets say he's 51 yrs old. That's 35 years of baby makin'. Now that's math I can work with.

Damn, that's 3 babies a year. I wonder if they were by the same woman. *LOL* Of course not, that's some Twilight Zone sh*t. But even so, that's some mad hatter type mess. Well, it looks like he wasn't wearing a hat or at least 100 times - he was not. I wondered how he knew all those babies were his? Come to find out, he signed for them all. He was relatively sure they were his, so he signed papers to that effect.

Now, what about the woman? Don't blink, there's over 50 of them. Did you hear me, fifty freakin' woman are in on this! There's said to be more, but no one is sure, because they believe some are in hiding. But wait, this story gets really really ugly, and it's true!

The man made these babies in less than a year!!! What do you think of that?!?

Can't believe it, neither could I. See, this isn't the Twilight Zone, this is CareyCarey's blog, and you've been punked. This is my 100th post. Yep, all my precious babies live right here in my blog.

I wanted to celebrate my birthday in my own special way. I wanted to tell everyone that I appreciated them for giving me their ear. The following is a list of all the brave souls that have taken the time to leave a comment. Uh huh, over 50 of them are woman.
Over the past few months 1,500 people have viewed my profile. Either I have a few people that love reading my profile, over-n-over again, or I have a few lurkers. I love them too.

Hey, I don't know how long it would take a man to make 100 babies, but I know how long it took me to put this post together, so you better drink up. I mean, at least let a brotha know that you read this Birthday Celebration.

Thank You:


A Lady's Life:
Blu Jewel:
Rich Fitzgerald:
Curvy Gurl:
Tia's Real Talk:
Miss Butterfly:
The Long Pen:
Twilight Girl:
A Choice Of Weapons
Kevin's TeeTee:
Kit (keep it thrill) :
Opinonated Diva:

The Joker

Hershey's Kisses:

Madam Z

El Nuyorican


DC Diva Adventures


Citizen Ojo



M H Jones




Goddess Intellect




POP Art Diva




Madam Z


Untouched Jewel


Kofi Bofah


B-More Bap

Okay Yawl, drink up. Don't drink while you're driving to visit a few of my friends. But do drop by and give them a holler. Tell them where you got it. Btw, this was a BYOB party but there is a tip jar at the door. CHEERS!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


First: From yesterday, I do not believe in dreams. They are like oscilloscopes. Their messages are so indecisive, that I am forever left with wanton thoughts. I mean, come on, one minute I'm sitting in church and the next minute I'm fighting Sinbad The Sailor. While fighting Sinbad, John Wayne hands me a Hershey bar. Come on now? Then, the Hershey bar turns into a CD by Wayne Newton. When I try to play the CD, Sammy Davis Jr., snatches it and then runs off with my wife - to the dessert.

Come on now, you make some sense of all that, because I can't! LOL


While being a guest blogger over at Big RiPPa's house, I ran into Renee, of Womanmusings. We didn't get along very well. Then, just the other day I dropped by another friends spot that I thoroughly enjoy, and you know what, she loves Renee's stuff. Well, I got to thinking, what if I could build me a blogger? No, not from their body parts, but from their mindset. There's a little piece of goodness in everyone, even if I don't think so.

So, I went to work. I thought to myself, who makes me laugh, cry and think? Who skills would I like to emulate and what are the specifics of those skills? Who embodies all the things I enjoy in a person. Of course there is no single person that does not have a few character flaws. So, Frankenstein was born.

When I first started blogging, I was told that it's proper decorum to link a blogger if their name is mentioned. Well, I'm not going to do that today. If you don't like it, lick it *lol*. See, I am sort of a non-conformist, and the people I am going to mention, don't need all of that. Hell, they probably don't even read my blog, so taint that important.
But first, this is kinda tricky. You know, it's like throwing a birthday party for one child and the rest can be heard saying "what about me". But see, that kind of thinking would automatically disqualify a person from being part of my Frankenstein. Maybe I'll save them for Frankenstein's wife. Oooooh, the horror of it all!
One more thing. What if I said the name Hitler? No, he's not a blogger, but doesn't his name conjure a few thoughts? Sure it does, but I'm relatively sure that someone, somewhere, thinks he had some admirable qualities. Okay, if you are a die hard cynic that loves negativity, go stick your head in the sand. I know you feel me. Maybe you don't, but move around nevertheless. I mean..... "YOU" know what I mean.

Okay, for debating skills, I would start with RiPPa and Freeman. I'd take both of them to a bar fight. I don't know if they can fight but I know they'd be in the mix. Freeman is not afraid to voice a view that is totally opposite of the prevailing opinions. I like that. RiPPa makes me laugh while he delivers some hard hitting messages. He's fearless and prepared to support his opinions. I like that. His unique brand of commentary is to die for. Yep, and he loves to eat and Frankenstein needs his nourishment.

I would cut off my hands and attach those of PPR_Sribe's, if I could write like her. Her command of the English language and sentence structure are a gift that few possess. She doesn't do mess, but she is a sister and therefore will cut you if she has to. I like that. She never did learn how to double dutch but she can write. She would be the hands of my Frankenstein.

There's a blogger that goes by the name of MacDaddy. He's about as dry as a neckbone that has been cast aside by a pack of hyena's but he's deadly serious. In a strange way, I admire a guy that never laughs and can sit still, and be quite. I mean, I wouldn't invite him to a party, but there's something to be said about a man that sleeps on the serious said of the moon. My Frankenstein would be well served to have the poise of MacDaddy (RIP).

I was raised in the church, so naturally I was around a lot of church folks. Church folks give the best hugs. Now granted, some of those woman are hugging for all the wrong reason, but they still made me feel good. When I think about jjbrock, over at the Old Black Church, she reminds me of my mother. My mother isn't a cusser, yet, once in a blue moon she might be heard saying "shit on it". That meant forget about it. Anyway, since my Frankenstein has to have a little religion, I have to steal the heart of jjbrock, aka, Ann. Listen, an old Jewish friend was asked why he didn't put his children in a private school instead of subjecting them to the horrors of public schools. He said a person can't learn from running away. BAM! That's jjbrock. She doesn't run from the issues, nor thinks she's too good to talk about them. I like that in her.

Does Frankenstein need love? Sure he does, and that takes me to Mizrepresents & Raw Dog Buffalo. Look at that name, "Raw Dog". Come on now, even Frankenstein likes a little unprotected nookie - right? But see, Mr. Buffalo is a little too graphic for me, but his style is unique. I mean, just the other day he displayed a picture of a guy that had a dong that streaked down to ihs knee cap.... I kid you not. One day he was talking about having sex 4 times a day! Come on now, either he's a big liar or he's someone to be emulated - by some. Although I seldom read much of his stuff, I think my Frankenstein needs some of him... well, because he's nasty - I think? I think some people like being nasty?

Did I mention Mizrepresents? Sure I did, and she has a place in my Frankenstein. Who doesn't want to be sitting on the dock of the bay. I mean, Diane is sitting on the dock of the bay, waiting for her love boat to come in, and she writes about it. Her courage to admit her mistakes and faults, is an admirable quality. She writes about love in all it's splendor. She has a belief in God, and talks about how that belief has sustained her and guided her. My Frankenstein doesn't know where he's going because he doesn't have a brain, but Mizrepresents writes about her hopes and her strong convictions. Just the other day she put a red light in her window. No she didn't, she wrote a post called "Help Wanted". The post was basically about the type of woman she is, and what she needs in a man. I want my Frankenstein to be just like her... No Scrubs Allowed. I like that.
Did I mention that my Frankenstein has African roots. Are you kidding me, he has to have roots in the motherland. In walks TRYBES. He has visited my blog a few times and I was impressed. Although my Frankenstein might appear to be a ugly mess with all the stitches, he still likes to think there's someone for him. So I think ol'Frankenberry is going to speak several languages.
TRYBES brings that African culture and dialect to the table and the boy has swagger.

I thought long and hard on this next one. Since my Frankenstein doesn't have a brain of his own (not yet), he has to be a damn fool. So, what about a time called now? Frankenstein needs to know how to act like a fool. In certain neighborhoods a brotha gotta show his ass. In walks CareyCarey. Now this fool cracks me up. If nothing else I'm going to attach him to Frankensteins laugh box. I've heard the sound of his uncle Kingfish's laughter, maybe he laughs like him. I hope so. I'd like that.

Moving on.... My Frankenstein is a grandfather, and who's heart is better to steal than Keith's @ Keith's Space. He tells those stories that makes me want to go out and kiss a stranger. For real, Keith loves his old school music and is on time - everyday. The man is like my grandfather with this blog thang. Every day of the week my grandfather always went to work. Everyday of the week, Keith writes a post. I like that. My Frankenstein needs discipline

Long Pen has Frankenstein's blood in her. I mean, work with me, she's his granddaughter - okay. Don't think about that too long, because it doesn't make sense but hold on. The blogger Loud Pen, aka Long Pen, is feisty and young. Who doesn't want to be young again? Well, my Frankenstein wants a little of that juice. When I first met Long Pen, she was over in her corner crying like a baby. She was complaining about her status in the blogsphere. She has dreams of being "Beyounce, Ms. Blogbensky". She was told to just settle down and write. It was suggested that she not count the hits or comments, but to make the hits, if only for her own rewards of self expression. See, she stuck and stayed and that's called perseverance. My Frankenstein needs some of that. She's young and admittedly loud, but even ol'skools can learn a little something from those they are trying to mentor. Long pen is the voice of my Frankenstein, loud and brassy and she loves rap music. I like that. My Frankenstein is black, so he has to know how to dance, and I am sure Long Pen can shake her tail feather.

Maybe my Frankenstein is missing a bit of technical knowledge. Maybe I should look at Kit or UglyblackJohn or Field Negro? What about one of those snob blogs? Maybe a chit chat patty wak person? Everybody needs to be able to shuck & jive. Yes, even my Frankenstein.

I need help.

Remember, when you least expect it....... You might become part of my next Frankenstein, or his wife.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Why DID I Think Of That?

"Here we go loopty loop, here we go loopty la, here we go loopty loop, all on a Saturday night".
Now, why in the hell did I think of that? I mean, that's an ol'skool song from way back in the day. I don't even know who sung it. I sure don't know the rest of the words. But follower me, this might get a little clearer.

Well, after Miz read my last post, she asked me what it was about. I don't know if she was jackin' with me or was trying to be funny. On the other hand, there IS a possibility that my post was absent of any connecting thoughts. Yep, I'll raise my hand. I've been a fool.

So today, here it is. What about a time called now? This post is about my dreams and your dreams, and do they come true.

Let me first explain that I do not believe in the spirits of Voodoo Women nor Hoodoo Women - okay. I give little thought to a black cat that crosses my path. I will kick that S.O.B square in his ass and tell him to go get his momma.

I can care less about someone trying to work roots on me. We all know about spaghetti - right? Come on now, if you don't know, ask your sista friend. Ask her about the spaghetti with the right sauce. But see, I don't believe it.

Friday the 13th ain't nothing but a horror film - to me. Jason, basin, chasin', they all sound like smoking crack - to me. So quit it, I ain't wit it.

Having said that, the other night I woke up in a good sweat. Well, I was having a dream that didn't set well with me. I should be embarrassed to say this, but I am not. If I were embarrassed, I'd be giving in to the goofy. Anyway, in my dream I was surround by 3 beautiful woman. Yes, we were in the bed. Yes we were butt naked. But that's not the problem. Now, I ain't trying to talk all nasty, but I couldn't perform - okay.

Stop laughing and listen to me. As I've said, I give little weight to dreams and all that mystic mess, but do our message come to us in our quiet times? There is a passage that champions that point.... "Be Still And Know That I am God.

Ut oh, what now! This is not a God post - relax. Yet, is there something to be said about our conscience? Isn't it the first quiet voice of reason that's easily pushed away? Isn't our conscience the small voice that's akin to David fighting the beastly enemy?

Sure, dreams do come true. Martin Luther King said it... "I've been to the mountain top" <-> "I have a dream".

However, upon deep examine of his dream, it's apparent he went through a process. He had a defined purpose and tackled it with conviction. He didn't listen to the naysayers and the popular opinion. He told others to walk with him or walk away from him. He shaped his dream. He prepared his dream with prayer. Regardless of what others thought of him, he stood strong. He could have flowered the masses with ambiguous statements, but he didn't. His dream wasn't culminated in a single dream. It didn't come to him in fragmented pieces in the middle of the night. Dreams do come true but........

Do you hear me? Can you feel me?

About once a week I reach in my pocket to buy a lotto ticket. Come on, that's really a fool's errand. The rewards of that dream has little chance of ever coming into fruition. That dream is like an old baron tree in the middle of the desert, it's fruit-less.

I wonder how many people have ever had dreams come true. I wonder if it was a bad dream or a good dream. More so, I wonder if there's subtle messages in our dreams? I am going to go back to my dream. I am going to see if I can find those three woman. I have a bug I want to but in their ears. But that's another story.

They say nothing comes to a sleeping man but a dream. Uuuumm, I wonder what they meant by that? Do dreams make sense and are they useful?

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Fools Welcome: Only if you raise your hand.

Why do birds fall in love? Why do they fall in love? Why do fools fall in love, why do they fall in love? Why do birds sing so gay and lovers await the break up day.

If you are still reading this post, you might be in good company. I mean, I did say "fools welcome". But let me explain. This is actually a recap. I was so taken aback by the comments from my last post, I had to clean up my house.

See, like any party in which a bunch friends drop by, my house was no different. But wait.... if you think you may have drifted to the wrong blog, you still have time to leave. This post is for fools only. But wait.... before you go, I want you to read the following:

Websters New World Dictionary & Sixty Six Reference Books: Definition of a fool -- A person that knows no sorrow. He is careless, callous, indifferent and never broken up or softened by conviction or sorrow for wrong doing. He is deficient in judgement, sense, or understanding. Easily deceived or duped. Willingly engages in buffoonery and trifling activity; despises wisdom.

Okay, if none of those characteristics apply to you, you may leave now. But wait..... one more thang. One day there was three leprous men sitting outside a gate. They were cast away because they had a problem that was common knowledge. Although some of the people inside the gate had worse problems than theirs, no one wanted to be considered leprous. As the story continued, the men thought that if they stayed outside, they would surely die. They all agreed that if they went inside, they could only be killed. They went inside - everyone was gone!

Who wants to be called a fool? Who wants to be associated with anything akin to being a fool. But truth be told, haven't we all been a fool? Haven't we all, at one time or another, been somebodies huckleberry? I mean, hasn't everyone been so pissed off, that they've showed their ass and acted like a damn fool? Although I am not a gambling man, I'd bet my left nut, to a nickel that everyone has been a fool.

Case in point..... you're still reading this post.

Have you ever visited a blog in which two individuals were debating and neither of them were listening to the other? Sure you have. I mean, although many bloggers proclaim they are open for discussion and debate, they ain't even trying to hear the words of the other person. Could that be considered something like HATING KNOWLEDGE and RESISTING INSTRUCTION?

In my prior post, did you read the passage from NikKi? If you did, you'd have to agree that she was referring to two individuals acting foolishly. I'd bet my other nut, that scenario is played out time and time again in the blogsphere and in life.

Who me... "yes you!". Couldn't be..... "then who!"

Okay, I'll lead the way. I've been careless and callous. At times I didn't care about another persons feeling. I certainly didn't care what they had to say, even though I knew they were trying to give me a little wisdom. Why listen to the instructions of another person - huh? They might have talked some sense into me. That's no fun. Why did they say that woman meant me no good? Hell, she was "good", but I digress. I wonder how many woman play the part of the biggest loser (a fool) by being in the company of a man they KNEW, was a rolling stone?

How about "Lie to me softly" or "use me, to do the thangs I do, just keep on using me, till you use me up". That sounds like a special kind of fool.

I realize this is not the kind of post that garners a lot of comments.... and I'll tell you why. Well, "Why do fools fall in love - why do birds fall in love"? Birds of a feather seem to flock together. I know.... I know.... well, the mirror is an ugly reality.
No one recognized the definition of a fool. One said, George Bush. Another identified the person as an AZZhole. Yet, someone else said it had to be a pimp or the devil. Several stopped by and simply shook their heads. I wonder what lurkers were thinking? Maybe they knew the fool, and didn't want to expose him/her to others. Many fools do not know they are a fool. They can only see it in others.

What about a time called now? Are you still reading? Do you qualify? Who's a fool? :-)

Thursday, October 29, 2009

CAREER OPENINGS! Degree helpful but not required.

Heads up! The job market is shrinking but I've uncovered a gem of a job that many have the experience and skills to fit right in. Of course a sheep-skin (degree) can propel a person to the top of the list but in this case, I do not believe it's a trump card.

Although I am perfectly content with my present employment, over the last few days I've been kicking myself for being closed minded. When I thought about it, this opportunity was present in my early years.

I remember the first time I ventured into a quest to find my first real job. I was dressed sharp. I had a brief case in my hand with a sheep-skin inside. I knew I was qualified for the job, yet I was met with the usual skepticism Well, I am a black man in America.

This is not a story of woe-is-me. This is a story of finding what I was not looking for.

Job Title: ??????????

Qualifications: We are looking for a person that knows no sorrow. They must be careless, callous, indifferent and never broken up or softened by conviction or sorrow for wrong doing. They must hate knowledge and resist instruction. They must despise wisdom. A closed mind is helpful.

Added plus: Deficient in judgement, sense, or understanding. Easily deceived or duped. Willingly engages in buffoonery and trifling activity.

I believe I've said enough. That job apparently pays well. Even though the title may be vague, people are lining up to fill all the vacant positions. Yet, come to think of it, the title isn't vague. Maybe it depends on what a person is looking for.

What's the title job title? What kind of person are they looking for? He's not an Engineer, he is a.........

Oh, btw, I didn't accept that job. However, at times I have used a few of the aforementioned qualification. I think it's a safe bet that we all have.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

It's Like A Poison Soaked Into The Ground!

So I relapsed - okay. So I am a whore that gets paid with a smile - okay. You do know what they say? Yeah, you know what they say ...."once a junkie, always a junkie". Okay, I raise my hand. I am hooked like a fat catfish at the bottom of the Mississippi River. I am not Blacula, nor am I Pookie, I'm CareyCarey, I am a blogger.

Now, work with me because I am constipated. I mean, I have some stuff in me that has to get out, and it could splatter all over the place. That's nasty ain't it. Well, tough tiddy but somebody gonna suck it.

Did you check out that title? It's from Buck And The Preacher Man. I don't know about you, but for my money, that was a damn good flick. I consider myself an armchair movie critic, I love me some movies. That movie is a classic. Are you kidding me, Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte AND Ruby Dee, come on now. I could write a post on that movie - alone! You can have Client Eastwood's Unforgiven. I mean, it was an alright cowboy flick, with Morgan Freeman doing his best Mr. Charlie, but that movie has nothing on ol'buck and the preacherman. I suppose that depends on what a person is looking for??? I'll get back to that.

I have attended the Telluride Film Festival, in Telluride Colorado. Yes sir, I sure have. I sat right next to the "2 Thumbs up man", you know, the movie critic. Did you know he was married to a black woman! Quit it! Yes he is. Well, the last time I talked with him, he had a fat black woman at his side and she WAS his wife, but I digress.

Film festivals are great. All you do is sit around with other movie lovers and watch movies. Yep, a weekend pass can be purchased or a tickets can be purchased at the window, but it's movies nonstop. Some are shown in intimate little ol' school theaters and others are viewed on outdoor screens. Of course, in that mix, there's dinners, Q & A's and socializing .

A little story: One day, my wife and I got up early in the morning to be the first in line to see a movie starring Danny Glover and Angela Bassett. Since it was a USA premiere, the two of them were going to be there. Well, we were not the only ones that thought the early bird catches the worm, and thus, were locked out of the movie. But alas, the race card was drawn. Maybe I shouldn't call it a race card, but check this out. We were standing outside the theater, licking our wounds when Danny and Angela came strolling by. I don't know if you know anything about Telluride Colorado, but there's not a lot of black faces running around - okay. Opray has a home there but let me get back. Angela spoke to my wife and Danny spoke to me. That was after they gave us a look of "what are these two negroes doing standing out here eating fried chicken". You may think that's funny, but I have to tell you ......we were eating fried chicken - okay. That's another story for another time, but while we were talking, a man came out from the theater and yelled something to Mr. Glover. Now, I don't know if this man had been around many blacks but Danny and Angela looked at that man like "motherf**ker, don't you see us talking". The man darted back inside like he'd been caught snapping lewd pictures of little girls. But, you can beat some fool half to death and they'll still be a fool. One minute later, the man came back for another piece of black pie.

Come to find out, it was the producer, and the crowd was waiting for Angela and Danny. He gingerly walked over to our little group and asked Danny if me and my wife were his friends. Angela looked at my wife and said, "they sure are". That made my day. Of course we, my friends and I, Danny, Angela, and my wife, couldn't just run in the joint like we'd just won the lotto, oh no. We told him that we'd be there in a minute. After the director parted our company, we all fell out laughing like we'd just kicked president Bush - square up in his ass. After we were done wiping the slobber from our lips, the producer invited us inside, where we were graciously ushered to our box seats.

But see, I didn't intend to talk about movies. But like I said, am all stopped up. I intended to talk about a few messages I've received over the last few days. Not text messages or e-mails, but knowledge through observation. Let me start by saying I am not a Travis Smiley fan - okay, but I am not a hater either. I say that because the brother does have some nice words of wisdom. However, why does our stories of triumph have to be preceded with stories of doom and gloom. I mean, why did I have to hear that Mr. Smiley once slept in a room with 7 other siblings - huh?

I don't know if there are many football fans out there, but the Miami Hurricanes football team has a new coach, a black man, and they are doing great. Well, why did I have to hear about his sibling that died from crack cocaine. I mean, right in the middle of the game, why did I have to hear that? Then, just yesterday, I was over at RiPPa's spot when someone posted something about the leader of Brazil losing his pinkie finger. Yeah, they went on to qualify his excellence by mentioning that he'd worked on an assembly line. I couldn't understand why that had to be mentioned in the context of Brazil winning the Olympic bid.

I had a little speaking engagement the other night. Before I went on, I wondered who would be listening. It was a diverse crowd and the topic was sort of out of my normal flow. I threw my speech together, and preceded to the stage with the confidence of a lion stalking a wounded prey. The evening was complicated by the fact that I had to work with a sound man that hates my guts. See, I was talking in front of my hometown crowd. That can be a hard sell. Well, I don't know if you've ever left home and came back to those who may believe that you think you are something special. Yep, I had a couple of hecklers, the sound man was one of them. Not only did he jack the audio, he walked behind me (a couple of times) while I was speaking.

If anyone would like to see the video, I'd be more than happy to send you a copy. Really, if you hit my e-mail or this post, I'll send you one. But be forewarned, I give myself a C- for this effort. I lingered too long looking at my notes and I jacked several words. I mean I butchered some words. Also, the audio sucks, it skips a few beats. But hey, it is what it is and it's yours for only the asking - You will get to see the sound man I was talking about. You will not be able to miss his fat funky looking ass.

I am going to stop this post right here because I have a WHOLE lot more to say and I don't want to be a bore. Well, not all in one post. But see, I gotta get back to the "poison that's soaked in the ground". Some of you may know what I am talking about, but we'll see.

Oh yeah, I have some more to say, but I feel better now. I've had my fix but I don't want to overdose. Yet, I gotta get back to Mr. Smiley. It's not bad, it's all good. Well, it depends on what you're looking for. I think I might even tell the rest of the Telluride story.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

THE GONG SHOW ...Blog Style. Some BLOGGERS deserve the hook! REMIX!!!

Every blogger has their own reasons for blogging - right? I can get with that. It's their house and they can do what the hell they want - right? I am cool with that as well. I've made a few bonehead comments...."yeah Carey, you sure have". Okay, I admit that, but lately I've been noticing that some bloggers BELIEVE they are talking on a private line. I mean, it could be the blogger or the commenter, some folks get down right silly with some of their remarks, and then cry foul when someone checks that ass.

I've decided to lay out a few "qualifiers" for the Gong Show Hook. You know, the old "get the hell outta here" award. Get ready, when you least expect it, you may be elected.

It could just be a phrase that someone uses that qualifies them for the pie in the face.

Of course this will piss-off some people, but hey, lets view this as a learning moment.

Are you ready? I think I'll give "BLOG TICKETS". Yep, slow down, you may be moving way to fast.

Teaser (but true): Big RiPPa and another blogger named VON were having a debate. RiPPa was tearing her a new one. VON gets a ticket for dropping this gem as a debating tool ..... "Well RiPPa, everybody else agrees with me"... GONG, that's a ticket!

Who did she say agreed with her (everyone else)? That can't be right - right? Nope, she gets a Blog Ticket, and she gets another ticket for representing a cheer-leading award as a fact.

But here's the deal. While sitting on my hands, I scratched my butt and then my head. Bingo! An idea popped out. Since some debates (most) go from the sublime to the ridiculous, I thought it may be time for a bloggers court. You know, like Judge Joe Brown and them. Yep, the two litigant would agree to disagree, and then take their case to the people's court, in this case, CareyCarey's Court. I think it would be a fun break from the normal bitch and moan of the blogsphere.

I am looking for what I call "Debate Busters". As we all know, some debaters use the old bait and switch technique'. They find themselves on shaky ground and then switch to something that's completely off course. That main course could be something like "The role of blacks in politics" and they might switch up in midstream and start talking about strawberry jelly rolls.

There's also the deep cut tactic. That technique is used when the debate moves from friendly discourse to razor fights. This usually happens when one side gets backed into a corner and they have no place to go.

Some good debaters throw in a few strong opinions and represent them as facts. That's a good thing until the other side catches it.

Nothing irritates the court more than the filibuster tactic. Who wants to read through a bunch of technical jargon to get to the core issue. No one likes to be bored into submission.

Bringing your friends in as witnesses can be a good thing, and a slippery slope. I am reminded of the police snitch that wound up speaking for the defense. Some folks just like to be on the team that appears to be winning. And thus, will flip the script to the highest bidder.
A blogger takes a calculated risk when they say "ask so-n-so, they'll tell you". Well, hopefully their key witness keeps their cool and brings a little substance to the table.

The "dog pile on the rabbit" is an effective ploy, yet very risky. If the fast rabbit is a clever wordsmith, a whole lot of people can be left with egg on their face.

Okay, that's it, what do you think? This could be a ball of laughs. Of course this is not for the weak of heart or for those that take themselves way to seriously.
I am off to look for debates gone wild. I have my Gong Show hook and my speeding ticket book.

Get on your marks, get set, here I come.
If you least expected and your elected, don't worry, you'll only end up in a jail cell like the one in the picture. That's me and a dude from Harlem.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Peek-A-Boo, I See You! ....Behind Every Great Man Is A Good Woman - Right?

That's Peek-A-Boo to the right, she's a super hero. For real, her name is Lashawn Baez. After she transforms, she becomes Peek-a-Boo, a super hero with the power to vanish away. She's also a Medical School graduate student. Well, she's the brainchild of Geoff Johns and Scott Kolins of DC comics.

The name Peek-a-Boo seems to fit an array of women that stand behind great men. Some of whom find themselves in the unenviable position of supporting their husbands while standing in the quiet abyss of obscurity. Yet others are mentioned in the same breath as their championed husband. Many of them are forced to drop their titles and their last names and their own dreams, and acquire the name of "His Wife". What type of super human woman can withstand the torrential storms of standing behind her great man. Aside from the pressures of their jobs, the wake of some great men is filled with Harlots, Jezebels, Judases, Parasites, and a private life that washes away like footprints in the sand after a high tide. Yet, the good woman, the great woman, the strong woman holds on.

Why then, is the phase "behind every good man, there's a good woman" reserved for men? I mean, I seldom, if ever, hear that phrase used in reference to the man standing behind his great woman. In fact, the word "great" seldom precedes the name of women. There's Henry The Great and The Great Houdini. There's even The Great White Hope. Can you believe that - a great - white HOPE, and not a greatblack woman.

Is the phrase not reciprocal because this is a man's world? Heck, James Brown even wrote a song about it, titled, "This is a man's world". He was the hardest working man in show business and the greatest R & B singer of all time. Does the phrase "behind their man" mean in back of their man or lesser than her man? For many woman, the role of supporting her husband is a honorable position. Unfortunately, it appears men do not aspire to the status of the man behind the woman. The reversal of roles, if only in name, is a hard pill for most men to swallow - why?

Most will agree that there is a good woman behind most great men. Why is that? Is that because "to the victor goes the spoils? Women do outnumber men 7 to 1 in many cities. Maybe men can cheery-pick, you know, finding the "GOOD" woman, and leaving the rest behind. I 've frequently heard woman say there's a small pool of good men. Can it be that all the good woman have been taken by all the great men, and therefore few are left to become great women? That doesn't make sense, or does it? Well, just ponder that for a second while we move on.

President Barack Obama has a good woman behind him, and everyone knows her name. Nelson Mandela had a good woman supporting him, and everyone knows her name. Who doesn't know Coretta Scott King, and her famous husband. If I say Betty Shabazz, you'd probably say Malcolm X.

I could continue this game of "Peeking-at-his-Boo" until the night grew thin, but I am looking for a few great women. The list of great men, and what some might consider as their also-ran is endless. I am looking for the His & Her couple with the woman on top. Why do the names of great woman lack the reverberating names of the good man behind them? I have to admit, Oprah and Steadman is the only couple I could think of, and I doubt they even apply. Oprah is a powerful force, a good woman, but Steadman - how does he fit into the formula? My point: Are there great women, or is that position, or title, reserved for men? More so, where's the good "boo" behind the great woman, if there is such a thing. Maybe it's true that all the good men transformed all the great woman into "His Wife", the house wife, and his Peek-a-Boo, and thus, there's no good woman left behind, to one day, lead the way to greatness. Dang it, I am stumped, I can't figure this out.
Are there any great women up in here? Stand up if you dare, and holla like something aint fair. Or, sit back, like you just don't care. Be the boo that nobody knew.