Today is the day we recognize Dr. Martin Luther King Jr and most importantly his message. I grew up in Montgomery Alabama, not far from historic Selma and the famous march that jump started the civil rights movement. I was lucky. Lucky that I grew up on the tail end of that struggle and yet it was still hard for blacks down south with so much hatred abound. However…we persevered. We flat-out refused to give in or cower in the face of inequality or injustice. We educated ourselves and our children so that we couldn’t be told that we weren’t qualified for this or unable to do that. A lot of times (this is no lie) we had to work three times as hard just to get our fair share. And I’m grateful for every opportunity I get to shine. Let’s fast forward to 2014……
What the proverbial f**k is going on?!? Dr. King’s message is all but dead, and racism has grown rampant in the last six years. I get it, racism and hate never really dies but as soon as we get a black president, racist groups start a training combine for try outs and draft picks…Was that really the straw that broke the camel’s back? He ain’t doing anything different from any other president (absolutely nothing). Was that THE opportunity to unite all the racists under one roof? Congratulations! what’s next, world domination? At this rate it shouldn’t be too long.
We are diversely and culturally regressing. The same tone that exists today I felt in the 70’s. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? We should be better than this. I often wonder if our children will know the peace Martin Luther King spoke so eloquently of. Racism is begetting racism. It’s being home schooled into today’s generation and THAT in itself is enough to give pause. Children have no reason to hate each other yet I see junior high school kids bullying minorities and females.
“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.” ― Audre Lorde
Racism undermines the human race and our ascension to the greater good. Today’s wars for example while shrouded in greed, primarily were instigated through racist means. How advanced can we truly be if we can hate with such ferocity because of a difference of race, religion, or gender. It’s a sad sad day when we’ve become so morally jaded, unscrupulously selfish, and cold-hearted. because of what? I’m darker than you? the way I worship God differently than you? or is it because I know the truth? that deep down inside no matter what you say to me (because let’s face it that’s all racists can do IS talk), I will always keep striving to be better. I won’t stop until my last exhalation of air is depleted from my lungs.
Some of you racists aren’t really. I’ve seen you sneaking out of the tanning salon, getting collagen lips, butt implants and buying penis pumps, but it never sticks does it? frustrating isn’t it?
U MAD BRO?
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.
Any other day, I’d bypass this subject and wouldn’t think twice about it. I’m sitting at home sick as a dog, channel surfing. I see the Tyra Banks Show (re-runs obviously) about women loving men with big bellies. And then the subject was broached on Facebook. So I have to ask ladies…REALLY?
Because I heard a lot of lies. lies. lies. Maybe it was to save face, or maybe it was the fact that they no longer consider their lover’s body part of the equation of love. Maybe it’s all about the dollars and to hell with the body. I don’t know, I’m just trying to gain a little perspective.
See…I know without a shadow of doubt that some women don’t like skinny guys. I used to be just that. Being skinny as a rail, trying to talk to a dimepiece is a futile attempt no matter what your charming smile or winning looks have done for you in the past. Some women don’t roll that way. They want a physical man who can handle himself and be able to bring food to the table. I get that.
But beer bellies? I’m heavily into the gym/fitness thing and I am a pretty sizable guy. At 42 years old, 232lbs, I still have no gut. Am I to believe, I’d lose out to the fat guy at the end of the bar with a bucket of Natural Light beer? To quote the fictional senator Clay Davis from HBO’s the Wire, “shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”
Muscle>Fat everyday, all day.
Guys, PLEASE do not fall into this sitcom reality TV show/facebook tomfoolery. Get your asses in the gym. Nevermind what women think….ok scratch that(what was I thinking), consider your own health for a minute. Abdominal obesity can kill you (indirectly). Not to mention affecting the lead in your “pencil”. It’s a sure sign that your estrogen levels are rising. And I’m hoping I don’t have to break THAT one down to you.
Our abs are quite useful. When you find them again, you can email me and thank me for getting rid of your back pain and improving you sex life. Abs act as a stabilizer for your torso and a gyroscope for your….hell, if you didn’t know all this time, you might be outta luck on the latter.
Ladies (just the ones that like big men), tell your man the truth, yes you want a big man for the comfort and joys of life. One that can also handle himself and protect you. A guy that can be that “blanket” you want. You don’t want a guy who runs around making jokes about his “tool shed”. Encourage your big man to go walking, ease him into the cardio. Before you know it, he’ll be able to “see” himself again and won’t have to reach blindly for it.
Am I too harsh? Probably. Am I an insensitive ass? Definitely. Listen I know there are conditions which prevent some men from exercising and/or eating right. To those guys, I’m sorry…this isn’t meant for your eyes. I’m strictly referring to those 30-40 somethings who are fully ambulatory yet down kegs of beer at happy hour, talking about “yeah I’m gonna start working out again”. Meanwhile their wives and girlfriends are on the Tyra Banks Show talking about, “Tyra, my big bellied man is putting it down”.
He’s coming back to the game. And as much as his peers will hate it, they will also welcome him back with open arms. All while making snide comments behind his back. No, it isn’t Brett Favre and it sure as hell ain’t Jordan. It’s Eldrick. And before you get your panties in a bunch asking who Eldrick is, I’ll tell you.
Eldrick Tont Woods…affectionately (and intimately) known as Tiger. Now, there is absolutely nothing about Tiger Woods that I could expound upon that the media hasn’t already filleted and gutted a million times already, except for one thing. Why he got caught. (no, not why he did it, why he got caught).
Tiger Woods is an island unto himself. That kinda makes it hard to do dirt when you’re visible from the weather channel’s satellites. Secondly, he went against the grain of every celeb/athlete’s mantra. He had no Entourage.
Entourage (read: boys who you pay and trust to do YOUR dirt and take the fall). These people are made up of people you know before the fame and fortune and when the shit hits the fan, will gladly scoop it up.
Celebs with entourages usually have a bad image of boozing party hounds, so Tiger refrained from having one, not realizing their true purpose. Damn, hindsight’s a bitch ain’t it?
But let me make myself really really clear. In no way do I condone Mr. Woods infidelities. He was stupid and got caught with his hands, feet and who knows what else in the cookie jar. Apparently, he thought he was a college frat boy. I remember my college days, (barely). I felt unstoppable. I vaguely remember my mother mentioning something about me burning out before I turned 25 (guess what mom, it was sooner…).
I didn’t have an entourage but I had friends I trusted impeccably. Question is, who does Tiger trust? It’s kinda funny though, because real tigers hunt solo, at night and ambush their prey. The two legged tigers we know use Patron Margaritas….or cereal.
If only he had one good friend to say “I don’t think its a good idea, let’s go” We wouldn’t be reading about all this nonsense now. But you know what, it’s not all his fault.
Let’s back up a sec. So the wifey had no idea? She was clueless? Yeah right, whatever. If the handwriting is on the wall, you just don’t apply a fresh coat of paint. Let’s not forget this has been going on for years, and she just now decided to bash his head in? A one eyed man with a cataract could see she didn’t care what Tiger did UNTIL it was about to become public knowledge.
So why are people so hellbent on what Tiger is or isn’t doing? Americans (some of us) are boring, mundane hum drum people who live their lives vicariously through someone else. Everyone wants to shake up their lives and do something wild and off the cuff but is afraid to. That’s why Vegas is so popular. What? you thought it was because of the casinos? Kill yourself now and help the census.
People like to commune socially. That’s why everyone is in everyone else’s business and personal affairs. And when celebrities and/or an athlete’s business come to light…oh boy, the fireworks fly. Tiger’s affairs were, socially speaking “a multiple orgasm” for the media and it’s endearing public.
The man liked to get his multicultural penis wet. He’s also given billions in charity benefiting children. Does this make it right? Hell no it doesn’t. Not at all. But tell me…what has your trifling baby’s daddy contributed other than his seed?
Stop casting stones. Welcome back Tiger.
Let me get straight to it. I was robbed. My car was vandalized and some pretty nice audio and video equipment was stolen. No biggie, This is why we pay gobs of money to our insurance companies.
What I AM having, is a hard time accepting the fact that with all my size strength and intelligence, there was absolutely nothing I could have done to stop it. I cannot shake it off. As a protector and defender of my family, I feel like I was caught slipping.
I’ve been talking to and reading about victims of theft and burglary, and how they feel violated and helpless. Yep, that’s sounds about right. What’s worse, this feeling of paranoia has me extremely protective of my family. More so than normal. If I was a scary bear before, I am certainly not to be poked or prodded now.
My family as a group will be obtaining concealed weapon permits and enrolling in a firearms class (not that I need it),but since we’ve become a Glock carrying family, it stands to reason that a family that shoots together….
Overkill? Hell no. Turn your television on. Go to any news channel, and realize that your time is coming soon. It’s just a matter of time before you become a statistic. Doesn’t matter who you are or where you live, the country’s crime rate has increased exponentially over the last few years.
Even if you consider yourself safe from theft, what’s your perverted neighbor across from you REALLY thinking of you? And to you guys trying to put another notch in your players card, two words for you: Steve McNair (RIP). Is it me, or does it seem that everyone in the world has lost their damned minds.
I won’t even bring up the recession. That alone is driving the indigent to extremes never before seen. Like breaking into my car parked at a four star hotel on friggin THANKSGIVING…
All of my close friends will tell you I’m not and never will be a gun advocate. Personally, I prefer the up close and personal hands on beat down.
But extreme times call for extreme measures. I’ll be waiting, locked and loaded.
To quote the comedian, Cedric the entertainer…”I WISH a motherf%#ker would…”
It’s week two. And I’m in the hurt locker.
You know, that special place of pain where no muscle, tendon, or ligament escapes the soreness and lactic acid build-up from weightlifting and exercise. Serves me right for “taking some time off”. Apparently, exercise is meant to be a regular ongoing thing in life. Don’t believe me? Pretend for a sec that we had no luxuries. I mean medieval times. You had to hunt your own food. Find your own water. Build your own shelter and protect it. Yeah… it wouldn’t do good to be soft now would it? Technology has made us all weaker. But I simply refuse to subscribe to “bitchassness”. (Sorry, no other word more accurately describes it).
Maybe the military had a little bit to do with my exercise mindset, but I really think it’s my competitive spirit the drives me. Lord knows, my cousin and I (sup Fred!) have been trying to “one up” each other since kindergarten. From beanpoles in our twenties, to athletes in our thirties, to serious contenders for bodybuilding competitions in our forties. We’ll be in our seventies still trying to out bench each other.
(tangent alert), is it me, or are people quick to point out the fact that you work out? Actual conversations:
random guy: “dude, do you work out?”
Me: “nooo, I’m a librarian. these muscles come from lifting books all day”.
random guy: “man, that chick is hot! She’s like a six foot Amazon!”
me: yeah, but I think she like guys that can actually sweep her off her feet and NOT get a hernia.
Okay, I’m wrong for that, but here’s the thing: fit people are only semi attracted to non-fit people. food and sex will only go so far (who am I kidding, food and sex will go a long way). It really helps to be compatible physically though.
When you hear a person saying the reason they work out and exercise is to feel better about themselves, they are only telling you half of the truth. The other half? It’s a secret.
I’ll tell you the other half when you meet me in the gym. Tomorrow is triceps, biceps, shoulders and abdominals from hell day.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Yeah…i’m sure that applies to the 99.9 percentile, but let’s talk about the “haters” for a moment, shall we? 1st, let’s define the modern term “hater”. We all heard it in some form or fashion, in a literal or theatrical sense. But let’s break it down for the less urban demographic:
1. One who hates.
2. (slang, pejorative) One who expresses unfounded or inappropriate hatred or dislike, particularly if motivated by jealousy.
Great. we all can define what or who a hater is. But what the hell do haters and chameleons have in common? I’m getting to that but first let’s define what a chameleon is.
1. A small to mid-size reptile, of the family Chamaeleonidae, and one of the best known lizard families able to change color and project its long tongue.
2. A person with inconstant behavior; one able to quickly adjust to new circumstances.
Now….When you have an individual that can’t stand the ground you walk on, and will erase every footprint you leave behind, all the while secretly admiring your swagger, taking notes on your designer fashion, the books you read, eyeballing your tech,wearing your cologne, mimicking your kung fu (well, feebly at best): Hater/Chameleon hybrid
I find it amusing these days. Something that used to send me into beast mode, simply makes me smile and shake my head. Even more so; I’ve come to take pity on them. Maybe it was a bad childhood. No friends, no girls, you know…”the straight home from school get your ass in the room” kinda childhood. No interaction with peers…no wait. No EQUALITY amongst peers, will drive you to do weird things. The hater/chameleon hybrid has to imitate everything it sees in order to give the perception of being able to relate. Yet, to see the Alpha (ha ha) do things it will never attain: the winning touchdown,getting the really fine girl, and getting the respect of all the guys is enough to set the hater’s blood boiling, sending it into an ADHD (Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder) rage.
Here’s what’s funny though. the hybrid believes that it’s invisible. It thinks that we can’t actually see it wearing our style, our gear, studying our moves. It doesn’t know that we can see it spreading hate and discontent behind our backs. It doesn’t realize we can hear all the things it’s saying to place itself in a positive light meanwhile working to place us in a negative one.
I was once told that success was measured by the amount of haters you had. Really? Because it gets old after awhile and you just want to recommend therapy to the hater. Waitaminute, hater rehab….that’s not a bad idea.
I’m really trying hard to be as unbiased as I possibly can when I say this: Ladies…desperation is not a good look. I should probably elaborate a bit more, “being desperate in getting a man” is not a good look. Yeah, I know there are guys who are just as desperate, but I’m not one of them and I’ll be damned if I hang around those losers, so I ain’t writing about them…yet.
I can smell it you know. No, not that Dolce & Gabanna you’re wearing or it’s Avon equivalent, the desperation. Seeping outta your pores like next day tequila. That 4th quarter hurry up offense to score…A woman’s game clock, it’s a shame there’s no overtime…. Ovaries, apparently are like time bombs. You gotta use em before they explode. Huh, who knew?
Whenever I’m out socially, I get that look. You know the look I’m referring to: that extra linger-look away-then look again-smile look. It’s THAT look men love to get. It brings back that untainted school boy in all of us. That “yeah, I’m the sh*t” feeling.
However, It’s the wild eyed, “I haven’t had any sleep because I can hear my Fallopian tubes cracking” that scares the bejesus out of men.
I had a T-Pain experience at Chili’s the other day. Hanging with the guys, killing the 2 for 1 all night drinks specials when the bartender says “a lady is buying you a drink”. Cool, I turn down nothing but my collar…
It happened in slow motion (at least for me it was). I saw the approach, I saw the smile, I saw the switch in her hips that screamed “I’M FERTILE, I NEED A MAN, I NEED BABIES”. Then I saw the look of disgust when she caught the light’s reflection from my tungsten carbide diamond wedding band. It was like someone had messed up her $85 dollar perm. She wasn’t even cordial when I offered to return the favor. Maybe it was the walk of shame back to her table or the giggling schoolboys that my friends turned into.
Most of all, I’m sure it was the disappointment. I felt bad for her in a sense. She looked weathered/tired in the dating game. You know how desert travelers see mirages and get that burst of excitement and energy only to find out it’s nothing there? Yeah, like that.
What can you do? As long as we have the genetically encoded primal need to procreate there will always be trials in finding a mate. That goes for both men and women, but its just funnier to me when women have to do “the walk of shame”. Divine retribution? maybe.