Sunday, May 22, 2011

Sunday I Pray -- Well -- And Other Things!

Sunday mornings are great. My door is open and my music is playing. In the morning I grind my own coffee, and if I can say so - it's pretty good. I used to smoke a joint while drinking my coffee but, Indiana wants me, lord I can't go back there - okay. Anyway, I didn't go to church today because I am doing the church at home thang. You know how that goes. Well, it usually starts with a lame excuse like I didn't get my hair done,whipped cut or buttered and my clothes ain't right. To be honest, at times I've stayed away on First Sundays because, well, I wasn't trying to stay in church all day. I know that's not right but it is what it is. Plus, there's no basket being passed in my house. But hey, I am listening to the gospel station and I am singing along. I can't hit a note, but like I said, am at home - it's just me. Don't get me wrong, being alone can be an ugly thing.

Have you ever left your living room after watching a long movie and returned to a stinky smell, and then realized it was your breath that you left behind? How about the lows of looking at yourself butt naked in the mirror, when nobody is around. Now that's the pits ain't it. I don't care what anyone tells us, we know those breasts and those six-pack-abbs are not positioned as they once were. In fact, it's possible, that if you're a woman, those breast have laid on down - they tired. Or, what might have been a nicely formed six pack stomach is nothing more than a big fat gut. A smart choice of clothes can hide a little something but naked don't lie. Those nice perky breasts were probably the tools of big fun and may still have a little play in them but today they just don't have as much bounce. But hey, good things come in all types of packages. Fat ones - flat ones - flopping ones and dropping ones, it's all in the hands of the holder .....or is that is that the eyes of the beholder?

Yesterday I was standing next to a women who just happened to be a guest speaker at a serious function. The sista was strong, her message was tight but when I got close to her to give her a hug, I felt like running home to repair my old model airplanes. See, glue was oozing from her hair - yes glue. I don't know what she paid for that weave but something wasn't right. I couldn't help but believe she might also have been constipated. I mean, with all that glue running down her back, something had to get plugged up. Okay, that might not be a nice thing to say, but man. It's probably not the most common way to become constipated. But let me tell you something, I've been constipated - ooh yeah! I've had to take a looooong book with me to the toilet. Yep, it was a struggle. I wanted to use my fingers as a helping tool but there wasn't enough room - back there- around there - to wedge my fingers. That's nasty ain't it? Tell me about it, I was sweating and everything. You think I am kidding? I started to call 911 so they could help my nasty stinkin' behind. My sphincter was like a toll bridge under repair - it wasn't letting anything come through. Somebody knows what am talking about - right? Okay, I'll just say its happened to me. But come on now, I know I am not the only one that has experienced such pain.

What about this. Have you ever thought you've wiped yourself - you know- back there, but later found out that you left something behind? You know, back there in the most itchy part of your behind. Ouch, come on home. I think at one time in our life we've all "thought" we did a great job of knocking it down but when that tingy itch tells us differently we know we're in trouble. No big deal but here's the problem. That warning doesn't tell us we've made a mistake until after we' re somewhere that we can't take care of our business. We might find ourselves in the middle of an important meeting or riding in a car. Now that calls for drastic measures. I've tried the deep-booty-scoot thang. All that does is move it around to a bigger area and it still itches. How about the sniper attack? You know, look right, look left and then - and only then - if no one is looking - get right to it. Yes sir, right through draws, panties and everything - the job has to be done. Of course this may be a temporary solution. Sometimes one just has to excuse them self and go to the nearest restroom and go to work.

But oh boy, don't you just hate it when someone invites you to their home and you quickly realize that for various reasons, you do not think it's a good idea to consume anything prepared by the hands of the person that invited you and in that home. Come on, I have some family members that I'd like to tell the world about. Them poor church folk, they still ain't figured out that special ingredient in Aunt Mabels delicious Velvet Cake...  it didn't come in the box.

But lets talk about crushed dreams -- they can be something else. I thought my grandson would be this big tough guy that all the ladies would just droll over. He's in this karate class and as I watched all the other kids toss each other around I realized that my grandson couldn't throw himself down a steep hill. Thank god for the new possibilities of a Black President.

Sometimes I like to pull it all in. You know, just get away from the world. Sometimes I turn off my television and my phone and I lock the doors. If someone knocks on my door I just pretend like I don't hear them. Some friends are persistent. They'll keep knocking as if they know you're in there. When that happens, I snatch open the door and look at them with a vengeful stare. Without saying a word, they know they should have called. They pause and say, "okay" and I shut the door. They may think that I am nuts but that's fine - I'll be nuts and by myself - just the way I planned it. Anyway, today is a pull back day - it's music, e-mails and more music. It's reading, drinking coffee and sitting around in my pj's. I played an old song by Aretha Franklin - Rock Steady. I broke out all my old moves. I had that snake thang going on and I two-stepped by myself. Do you remember when white people thought they could do the snake. Wasn't that ugly. Anyway, I did the robot, the flashlight, the stomp and the bump (used the wall). Did the stanky leg too. I even broke out the white man's favorite dance - the wiggly worm. It's not really a dance. It's that thing white people do when they can't think of anything else to do - they wiggle like a worm. White girls are particularly good at that one. I think they believe it's sexy. It sort of fitting though, because I've never seen a wiggly worm with a big booty.

But a brotha has to know how to dance. I mean, I am a single black man and dating is tough. But my desires and wishes of a lady are simple. I just tell them to always smell pleasant and be clean and try not to be pretentious or deceitful and don't lie. Oh, there is one more thing - don't fart in my company. Is that too much to ask? Am just saying, some people think that breaking wind is funny. I've never understood that one.

I love Sundays. I think I'll end my day by watching a little football and then watch a movie. I might even invite a lady over for dinner and a movie - might. And then again, I might just sit around and look stupid. What do you think? I mean - about anything?


CurvyGurl ♥ said...

Wow, I don't know whether to laugh or not. I guess it's safe to say you have some things on your :-)

jjbrock said...

Carey you are crazy! Now I am very caution about eating church folks food. If you want to no how much you have aged try holding a mirror down and look in it. That's scary.