Anomaly ~ something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected. oddity, peculiarity, abnormality, irregularity, inconsistency, incongruity,aberration, quirk, rarity
That’s how I feel. Like an anomaly. I look around my peers, my genre, my city and sometimes I feel like an outcast. my mental state, my physical well being isn’t the norm. So I’m the crazy one? I’m about to head to the gym RIGHT now at 5:30 am because I want to. I love picking up heavy ass weight up and setting it back down repeatedly. I also love when I can read a trilogy in a week’s time.
Am I wrong for wanting to gain more insight AND be strong as hell? Or should I just smoke and drink and watch my body and mind deteriorate? People think I’m in great shape and I laugh on the inside KNOWING i could do better. HAVE. DONE. BETTER. Hell, this machine is far from being tuned properly, but it’s happy hour at Buffalo Wild Wings or the Alehouse or Sunday Funday at the Pier, Conch house, and beaches. To add fuel to the fire, I “feeeeeeel” my age. And let me be the 1st to tell you if you didn’t know. IT’S HARD TO BE ON A CONSISTENT FITNESS REGIMEN AT 47. People this age have things to do.
It’s purely mentally at this point. It hurts longer, I don’t recover faster, and I have to eat leaner in order to actually see the hard work I put in or it’s all for fucking nothing. This is the point where most of my friends tap out and use that old cliche of growing old gracefully. Whatever. My cousin wants us to do bodybuilding competition. Check it off our bucket list he says. You can find Fred Davis here at his FaceBook page tell him I said hi and “I need three years to be ready!” the agreement was to compete at 50 not 47, roflmao.
All jokes aside, I love it. I genuinely love the physical and mental stimulation of stress relieving. endorphin releasing workouts. I guess my normal isn’t normal.
And I don’t give two flying fucks about….and that’s perfectly okay with me. It’s just odd that people comment on how fit you are for your age. Like you’re wearing fake breasts or a hairpiece.
“hey bro, you play ball”?
“Sorry man, you’re a little too big for special ops/swat unit, we’re hi-speed and muscles burn oxygen”. (my personal favorite)
“sup bruh, how long were you locked up for? you’re big as shit”.
You know what? I’m through playing with y’all. Enlighten me, entertain me…..or kick rocks. Negativity, defeatist, self deprecating attitudes, curmudgeon personalities are all contagious. stay the hell away from me with all that nonsense.
Ladies, question: where do you stand on your limitations regarding a relationship? You want to know what men talk about at the roundtable while enjoying wine, spirits and ale? This is always a hot topic. Ok, before I dive deep into this topic let me clarify something real quick. The title may move some of you to believe it’s a “thug” related blog. WRONG. Couldn’t be further from the truth.
Every man wants that “Ride or die chick”…..A quick google search will have you believing that a ride or die chick is a woman that will simply fight with and for her man. well…that’s the little boy’s version. And by little boy I mean definitively speaking: under 26, wakes up and smokes weed, and/or makes less than 20k LEGALLY, wears skinny jeans and/or sags, is semi dependent on his mother, I’m referring to him.
For us professionals….a woman who can blend in with the fellas COMFORTABLY, ie; sports, games, etcetera etcetera, attend a debutante ball with the poise of a princess, sit in on a board meeting and contribute, knock back shots at happy hour, and go from urban to proper vernacular in the blink of an eye, is a ride or die chick.
She doesn’t have to fight for/with us….although a sub compact 25 or snub nosed 38 (preferably smith&wesson) in the purse is an added bonus, albeit irrelevant.
A man wants a well versed and well rounded mate. (not in the literal sense fat asses, log some miles on that pedometer already) If you persist in keeping to some of the old ways, you’re going to find yourself matronly and alone. and who want’s that? A lot of you in Jacksonville Florida, based on all the stories I’m hearing. Yes, Jacksonville…I just put some of your trifling asses out there. Again. What’s wrong with you hillbillies and hoodrats? Thank God I imported….
All I hear is, my girl, my wife, my significant other, is verbally (sometimes physically) trying to emasculate me. Seriously? (taps the mic) Is this thing on? Ladies wanting a successful relationship, stop making a “punk” out of your man. The very moment you disrespect his manhood, you have just pushed the emergency stop button on the relationship. …no man is going to tolerate that bullshit and remain faithful to you. Oh, he’ll still sleep with you (because let’s face it sex IS sex) but he won’t give a damn about you. Nope, he’ll continue looking for a woman that doesn’t keep testes in her purse.
So…continue not catering to your man. Continue your petty games in which you seek to control, steer, and ration. good luck with that. Not all men are mesmerized and entranced by the vajayjay. Correction YOUR vajayjay….there’s some next door.
By the way, to you ladies referencing that Steve Harvey book. Last I checked every single relationship is different. no set rules. no set boundaries. how can Mr caterpillar mustache interpretation’s help you? His experiences, his relationships….yeah, his advice is a solid match and will fit along perfectly in yours. Lemme know how that works out for you….I’ll wait, shouldn’t take long.
My advice? No, not my advice, it’s been around for ages…”What it took to get your mate is what it’s going to take to keep your mate”. Switch the game up midstream if you want, and find yourself on PlentyOfFish.com with other matronly singles who hadn’t felt a man’s crotch since the Clinton administration.
Through playing wit cha’ll.
Please….shut up already, you leech, you vampire, you succubus. I can feel you draining all of my optimistic soul with your chronic complaining and pessimism. Yes life is a struggle, I get it. Just stop talking about how miserable your life is and DO something about it.
I have my own issues to contend with. I’m making positive strides forward, then you come along with your black cloud of mope and despair overcasting my day. Fortunately, I have one of those pro golf sized “mental umbrellas” to keep me dry from your gale force tirades of drama. Spare me your relationship episodes, you’re not David Duchovny on Californication. I could care less about how your wife emasculates you….wait, what did you call it, “she’s assertive and likes wearing the pants” so instead of watching the playoffs Sunday afternoon, you’re down at the flea market shopping for discounted trinkets and bootleg romantic comedy dvd’s.
The next person to attempt to trample one of my good spirited days with their “cup is almost empty” demeanor, deserves a Rick James to Charlie Murphy open handed slap. Seriously. I’m on a mission. Because your train derailed, you want to plant bombs on my tracks? If life is sooooo bad, give up. Stop trying. Kill yourself. More food for us. Still here? Pussy…or is it that your life isn’t that bad afterall huh?
The next step isn’t so easy. Depressing people travel in packs, infecting others like a virus adding to the collective. You have got to break away from the other crabs if you want to change your mindset. And don’t think they won’t notice. “why’d you stop calling? oh, you too good to hang with us now? Hey I just wrecked my car for the 3rd time can I get a ride? Hey girl, so and so was talking about you. I just wanted to let you know. What’s up man, I just quit my bullshit job. Naw, I ain’t got nothing lined up just yet tho…mind if I hang out for a few days?”
Good luck escaping. If you did manage to escape, your circle is extremely smaller now isn’t it? Google+ won’t be happy (lol if you don’t get that it’s ok, the joke wasn’t for you).
I had an intellectual discussion with a good friend of mine last night until 3am. It’s amazing what conversations stem from Grand Marnier and blue mist hookahs….I digress, where was I? One topic involved goals, aspirations, and the means to reach them. Have you met yours? what prevented you? what’s stopping you now? At what point do you concede? the conclusion obviously, is that the infrastructure of any goal you set forth is planning. Then it hit me like a ton a bricks. 35-40% of the people I knew, didn’t plan for shit. Most of them are already out of my life, the few remaining handful will probably become case studies for this blog in the near future.
It’s 2012 people. time to become extremely independent and get off the teat. Bad things will happen soon. PLAN AHEAD.(damn have I been infected by the cynics?) Time to develop some survivalist skills just in case of some post apocalyptic scenario. I recommend the three H’s. Hunting, Horticulture and Whoring…yes yes I know, I know. It was just fun to say.
Through playing with y’all.
I feel you Aretha. Without respect, a man isn’t one. Lack of it will always lead to a disastrous conclusion. Me? I’d take respect over fame and money anything day of the week.
So. What exactly is the correct path to follow when there’s a personal affront to your manhood? Wisdom dictates removing yourself from said situation. Easy if the assailant is a complete stranger, not so easy if you’ve known the individual for awhile and their viewpoint of you has changed for whatever reason. A little tougher if it’s a long time friend or family member.
Yeah, you can communicate and talk about it, but since no one’s budging, you’re back to square one. This is why brothers don’t speak to one another for 15 years a pop, or cousins only visit every other holiday. It also affects marital bliss.
So what do you do, when you are bred with a ceiling-less pride and taught to be respectful and expect it always? When the nuclear arms talk fail utterly, and war is imminent…what do you do?
It comes down to our primal responses: Fight or Flight. I’m not speaking a “physical” fight (not this time). But a fight aimed at getting the respect you deserve. Or do you take a hit to your manhood, the very core structure of who you are, and concede?
……and I ain’t about to write a damn song asking for it either.
It’s hard enough to deal with hidden agendas and the proverbial knife in the back, but when you’re forced to endure the “crabs in the barrel” attitude from your own people, it really stops you in your tracks and makes you take a hard look at society, culture and regional environments.
The Mason-Dixon line isn’t the only line drawn that some southerners secretly take pride in. Economic status, has always been a line that separates us, not only from a financial standpoint but a social one as well. When you successfully make that jump into the next tax bracket, you leave behind a few scratching heads wondering “how’d he do that?” That wonderment (also known as ignorance) turns to resentment. The end result? You now have a hater on your hands.
*Hater ~ from the urban dictionary perspective: a person who cannot abide another person’s success. Instead of being congratulatory, they make it point of exposing the person’s flaws. The thought process isn’t outright hate, it’s the desire to take that person down a peg or two in the eyes of mutual peers. Mostly to distract those peers from the hater’s own inabilities, flaws and other idiosyncrasies.
Now, let’s add some water to that grease fire shall we? Break a few racial stereotypes, think outside of the box, or just blaze your own trail in way NOT typically known to be done by your ethnicity group and watch what happens.
As a black person, go rock climbing, or as a white person, become a rapper. White muslim? Jewish AND indigent? Depending on where you are regionally, you’ll be known as “selling out”, or acting something that you’re not. People are creatures of habit like that. Sad, but undeniably true.
Change upsets conformity.
When they see “different” then something must be wrong. Are we really hard wired like that?
My friend Anthony is a cyclist. He’s pretty good. But because cycling isn’t seen as a “black” sport, he’s operating outside of the known stereotype, and now he’s taking heat from his peers, accusing him of being something he’s not. really? Small minded people should just quit breeding. Ignorance begets ignorance.
While visiting family back home, I ran into a childhood friend. After reminiscing a bit, he pulls me to the side and asks, ” Hey dawg, so how long were you locked up for?’ See… for this jackass, military training and 15 years of bodybuilding equate working out in the penitentiary recreation room.
This is a very large world we live in. Get off your close-minded, prejudiced, one tracked, “I eat the same thing for breakfast everyday”, asses and experience something new. Talk to someone different. Walk another route. Go visit another country. Stop wallowing in your own ignorance and for God’s sake stop educating yourself via reality TV and Fox News (can people really not see their agenda?!)
FYI, we have some of the dumbest kids on the planets. Thanks failed parents! Let’s have more Honey Boo Boo’s and Plaxico Buress’s in the world. Yeah, I went there and no that ISN’T stereotyping. that’s a fact. Shanghai, Singapore and Hong Kong are making our kids look stupid. Literally. Google it. Nevermind. Here I’ll do it for you: http://www.cnbc.com/id/101240945
through playing with y’all…..damn.