Weekend Homework Assignment

Random ish for the weekend: (no hyperlinks - you gotta work for these today)

If the CSI and Law And Order franchises are America's most watched shows and the OJ trial was the most observed event in modern day history, why didn't 'we' wait for the investigation to take place regarding T.O. and his alleged suicide attempt seeing as we know the procedure?

As a person who has had a beloved released to my care after a suicide attempt, it would seem that a one hour wait and an hour of treatment wasn't sufficient for someone bringing harm to themselves to be released without follow up, huh?

Normally it takes a week or so to evaluate the mental state and be released by a shrink if it's determined that there was no intent to harm oneself. What happened in my case.

But I'm just saying though...


One year and one month since Katrina struck so I stayed up and watched "When The Levees Broke" back to back. I actually got a chance to drive thru N.O. when this program debuted. I read a few blogs about folks seeing the program.

Advice:
Unless you've donated (time, money, effort), volunteered (in any capacity), lived thru it or actually witnessed the destruction firsthand, be critical but to a point.

I pulled my truck over to take pictures (don't even ask... That's a sign of disrespect) and ended up hurting my finger (cut a flap down to the bone) because my 5'11"-235lb ass wept like Mary the day her son was taken from her after seeing what I saw.

If you need fodder, motivation or an emotional sparkplug to vote in the upcoming elections and you live closeby (or within driving distance for that matter, make it a weekend thang), go and visit that city.

You'll know why I stopped taking pix, dropped to my knees and recognized my father. I thought I saw the gates of hell. I needed to be saved because they weren't


Do you really want Op.rah telling you who to vote for? Okay then. Here's an additional weekend homework assignment:

Look up Barak.Obama and find out your damn self.

I already know. I'm from here. You make your own decisions. Then tell me why the 2008 election is that damn important.


Why are there so many good looking women on these dateboards?
Why are they single?
Why do I think the crazy gene skips fair looking to ugly folk?
Why do I think KZ has the answer to that question?


What you know about the Urban Trust Bank?
Whatcho' folio' look like?

(a lot of mid caps for me. Just switched over to the conservative B joints. - Confused, you shouldn't be. That's why I didn't hyperlink it)


Gasoline went down to damn near $2 a gallon here.
Its still high as giraffe puss in the hood though. (Closed mouth doesn't get fed).
What got fuel prices (and as a tractor-trailer lessee, I have great concerns) down to this level? (I know, just checking your ass)
What does it have to do with the renewals of a few defense contracts?
Current persons in office?
2008? (damn, I gave that one away)


Why am I not excited about the 2006/7 NBA season?
Kicks off next week in preseason form and there is no buzz.


I really miss her.


Everybody can't bring sexy back. Some of y'all just got that shit.

Therapy Thursdays

Hassan is off to therapy today (both physical and legal), so let's continue to chew on yesterday's post, shall we?

Change Of Heart

This time last year, I wasn't exactly alone. I was enjoying the fact that I was dating a few women and my ish was kind of trump tight. There were 3 beautiful, intelligent and spiritual sisters that made time for me as I made time for them. There was room for activity and time for seriousness in the conversations we had and the discussion of possibilities. But there was one sister that came in and broke all of that up. Her method of first contact was unusual.

She IMed me.

Now I must say that there was another sister that I vibed with on the regular and we were working the IM and phone thang but she was a few hundred miles away and she had her own funk going on out there. But I was damn attracted to her spirit. Still am. Eff the other stuff, I was impressed with how she did her thing. She astounded me on how the abnormal was handled and how she made sense out of the un-ordinary. I never met anyone like this. Just standing in the face of adversity, corporate America and family disfunction and keeping that bullshit at bay with her chair and whip like a lion tamer center ring at the circus is a grand thing to see. I wanted to marry her right then and there. We could have worked out everything else as time went on.

But the sister who IMed out of the blue took a chance. To my knowledge, she read my blog and peeped the few pix I had on my flickr joint at the time, so she had visual confirmation on things. She knew what my thoughts were an a lot of issues and believed we had something in common. She reached out to me and made the first move, and that was the first time something like that happened to me, so I responded. She did research, and that impressed me initially.

Months of IMing, phone calls and infoshare went on. We dated. I had forsaken the bowling nighs, movie dates and neglected hanging out at the poetry spots with my serial daters to vibe with this sister. I had nine years on her but when telling my homeskillet, mental doppleganger, ace boom coon and equally fabulous vodka drinking best friend of 17 years Buddha (who introduced me to a woman I spent over a decade with) she said what Nsane Lee Sane said:

Slide. (remember that in Fight Club?)
But don't forget who was there for you before.

So I slid, ended up meeting the family. Shared my emotional breakdown with the sister on Thanksgiving day and was even an eyewitness to her crossing an educational threshold that only a few of us actually see or are capable of ourselves. But things weren't well. I felt her confidence and faith slide in me, but she didn't initially tell a brother that I had fallen out of favor. I was going thru the transition of being independent of family due to conflict and general growth and I had shed a ton of hangers on as friends in the past few years to the point that I functioned mostly alone, and that wasn't cool with her. Some of y'all was reading my blog back then and I was miserable in trying to find where I needed to be and that affected her somewhat.

But one person stuck with me during all the turmoil. I shed my casual dating situations with those other sisters and were no longer in contact with em. Easy come, easy go - BUT, I poured my emotions into IM and phone conversations with the one sister I should not have ignored. She guided me thru breaking free of all of the bullshit that came with this new sister's attempts to cut me loose when she found out that I was not what she expected. She knew that my attempt at a relationship with this new sister was a decision of convenience because she was closer geographically and my choice was also made clearer when I found that the situation she was having over there was a little more cloudy that I originally thought.

Follow me?
Good.

So I started 2006 jaded and with no one to come see me do my thing at the poetry spots. I was kind of ended up seeing someone that got thrusted upon me and we ended up sharing space quicker than I thought because her ex...
Never mind. Longer story there.

Homegirl was still there. But I still couldn't get at her. Still can't, so I decided to get on the road and do my thing in the trucking industry to get my mind off of the obvious. It's working, somewhat. Becoming an independent contractor in trucking is a very lucrative thing. I thought that maybe I could get away from the norm and detatch from corporate America by getting on the road and working for self. And plus, I managed to do a few open mic nights and book a show or two for myself while I was out there. Things went well, I leased a truck and sold a handful of CDs and then I realized...

I'm doing this all of this alone.
I'm almost 40 and have no kids.
This trucking thing is very solitary.
The average cat with a truck has a home to go to.
And a family.
That's something that I don't have.

I figured with me being in Chicago for a minute that I should consider buying a home, but maybe not here. With the new opportunities emerging as well as me getting back on the road after I finish the album and book of poetry I'm working on, I know that I must share all of this chocolatey goodness with someone.

SEXUAL CHOCOLATE!!! SEXUAL CHOCOLATE!!! (drops mic, exits stage left)


The climb ain't nothin without a partner... And a rope.


So it's time for me to admit something:
I am ready to be in a committed, monogamous relationship.
I want to have children.
I want that sister to be there as I build my new career.
That's important.
I want to put my queen on a pedestal and build for her and my future family.

It's time to settle down, y'all.

I did the unthinkable yesterday. I joined an online dating service. I'm not kidding. I uploaded a few pix, hooked my bio and even took a personality profile to help filter thru so-called 'bad match-ups'. I plan on actually fielding a few responses and going out on a few dates using this service. I even plan on blogging about a few experiences and hitting y'all up about some of the things going on with that whole jumpoff. I even got a few hits already...

I'm humbled and impressed.

I'm not thinking that this is the end all - be all as far as putting myself in a situation that might get me hitched. I just know that I've closed myself from the concept of marriage and having a family since about 2000 when I broke off the longest relationship I've been in. I didn't think that I could trust anyone and I did get in a relationship with a woman I thought would want to have my children, until she cheated on me and got pregnant with another man's child, then aborted it.

I was pretty much done right there.

The sister that came thru and IMed her way into my heart, even though we didn't make it 6 months showed me something. She was definitely worthy to be loved unconditionally. Straight up marriage material. The sister I befriended and that stuck with me thru all the bullshit deserves that much more and then some. We used to trade battle scars and flaws in conversation and even though there has been some devastating things that has happened to the both of us, we both came to a realization that thru bullshit and battles, scars and emotional issues that there is still a vast abundance of worth in a person.

For a moment, I thought I was too flawed to be loved.
Too old to be 'broken in' if you will.
Not worthy of being loved unconditionally.

I see now that in order for me to make this thing called life that much better I need to share my life experiences. I also need someone take over my junk empire here at the Sanford Arms.

I've been hanging out with my 2 and a half year old nephew for the past couple of days and I realized something about me as a possible candidate for the title of father...
But that's another post.I gotta concentrate on me being out on the market.

Dating and such...
I'm so scared.

Monday - Back on the Block

So Monday begins like this:

In meditation and prayer. I haven't seen the stars from this position in quite some time. I know that I have been returned here for a reason. I think I know what that reason is. I was shocked to learn that some folks haven't gotten over themselves and just accepted that I'll be in some places that they might be (not meaning Chicago either) and just let me be. I haven't bothered you since the last days of the solstice, so what makes you think I will now?

Oops, I know that that probably just bothered you.

You know, the fact that I acknowledged...

never mind...

I still pray and meditate... And wish you heaven. Why not, you deserve it, don't you?



This city has it's own flavor.

I got so much on my plate right now that it just ain't funny. I got doctors and lawyers to see and therapists to make schedules with. It's crazy right now that I haven't had the chance to get out and reaquaint myself with this big ass city. I didn't miss it that much so getting out just to see stuff wasn't a priority.

I plan on getting out and checking in with Griot Baba Biko who teaches me a lot about the spirit and presses me on my lineage and what I need to do to stay relevant to my people. I also got to get over to the Spoken Word and Negro League Cafes next weekend. I also need to check out Roscoe's to see if it has the same flavor that Cali has.

Why in the hell is Chicago now housing a Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles anyway? We're already fat all up and thru here. Like we needed that. (I'm glad they're here.)


Boo Hoos:
I missed Tribe last week.
I missed Rakim and Kid Capri (in Chicago, that is) too.
I haven't been inside a movie theater since January.
No other major acts are booked for the Chi until December... Should I stay?
Still haven't had a drink yet.
Or any nookie for that matter either.


I also need to find out if my girls SpkHER won that Hieneken sponsored contest. I wanted to go out and check the sisters and the other contestants out, but I spent the whole weekend writing, plotting and strategizing on how I gotta do the do in the upcoming weeks that I'm here. I gotta find balance and make sure I can be in the right places doing all things conducive so I apologize for not making it out. I know y'all did it anyway. I'm just ready to get in the studio my damn self. My focus is on lyrical content right now. I just need to get over to the old neighborhood, soak up some flavor and chill in my element for a quick minute. Feels nice to know I get a chance to sit and just be for a moment even if it is back here in the Chi.


I noticed while over my sister's that my mother called and didn't even ask about me. Nuff respect and love for all that she has done to get me to this point as a man, but I just can't understand why we can't get along.

I'm the only child that looks like this woman and we just don't have rapport. We never had it so it ain't no surprise to me that we don't favor each other to communicate. I love her, I really do, but I guess I'll stay over here and she can stay over there for now. It's a peaceful situation that way.

Sad, but true.


Okay, so I was in the LA area a few times over the summer. I have a friend that lives in Pasadena and I didn't call or arrange a visit when I was in the area. We've known each other for 3 years and I just didn't feel like I was welcome enough to call and set something up like lunch or something. I'm IMing folks this evening and she appears out the blue, chastising me that I haven't called or visited. Thing is, we haven't spoken in over 4 months. She could have called me, right? I figure if the time wasn't taken to get at me, then why should I bother with trying to hook up when I was out there.

Whateva, man.


Al called me and told me that he got his DNA test results back that told him of his African roots and I am so amazed. For a brother that has Africa in his 2007 plan, you'd have thought that I would have gotten tested too so I'd know where to go. The brother's mother's side of the fam comes from the Hausa people in Nigeria. His pops side is from all over Europe. That ish is crazy right there. I think before we can start claiming thangs in the name of Mother Africa that we all should be tested. You ever wonder where you're from? Well, Imma' find out and soon.


Random ish:
Why do I keep breaking my cell phone?
Why did TSA go all thru my shit (and dispose of my pillow?) at the airport and try to patch up my bag half assed?
Why is Condoleeza Rice getting all homey and endearing herself to us now?
She sick or something?
Why do I have a crush on a certain Ill NaNa right now?
And why am I mad that I didn't get a chance to drive thru where she at?
Ain't nobody blaming Whitney for 16 years of straight acting the fuck up?
It's all on Bobby, huh?
How many people will die while during Ramadan as we try to validate our occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq?
Why was Minister Farrakhan ridiculed last week and this weekend after handing over the reigns of the NOI to the executive board?
The cellphone recharge station at the Salt Lake airport was charging folks $1 a minute to get juice.
Why didn't I think of that?
After seeing the ND-MSU game Saturday night and seeing State get that ass handed to them in royal fashion, I need to ask: Y'all aiight over there? Is everything okay? Y'all still got the Tigers, so chill cause Chauncey can't do it all by himself this year.


You know I'm going to write about the experiences I went thru this summer driving that big-ass truck, the training in Salt Lake City and all. I owe it to y'all to let y'all know that there is a whole other way of life and some serious difference in standards that truckers live by.
Shot from the driver's seat, somewhere in Nevada I think - This one is New Mexico, hell I can't remember, I just drove the damn truck.

A whole lot of blood money, abnormal sexual situations and bad, greasy food in every town. This job ain't easy and it can get lonely very quick if you ride alone, and most do. Find out what truckers do with their money and time, seeing that the fed only lets us drive 11 hours per day. Gimme a week to put that together and I'm sure I'll snap a few necks when I tell you what I've learned and had to go thru.



I think I want to get married now. Any takers?

Home?

I made it y'all.

Now to get the fuck outta here... That's the real mission.



but first... I gotta dig in and get twisted... Check this out:


I am so happy...

This is a happy, nappy day

Rejoicing to the Creator so I start it this way
Yo I sway to the with the trees
Open eyes to the breeze
That blows thru my window pane, it awakens me.

Another glorious day all up under the sun
Meditate manifestations on how it's done before my day is done
These are the thoughts that greet me

And I'm no longer sleepy

Gotta get out without a doubt and fellowship
With my fam - we connect - keep it relavant.

But first...

I gotta adorn my knots

Retwist my locks

Dig in my crops


Adjust my antennae, download the frequencies
Constantly adjusting - connecting recieving energies so I be

Protected, connected to the vibrations that greets me on the block

That's why I'm digging in my crops.

Blackfist - "Diggin' In My Crops"
from the upcoming Underground Moovment release "In A Hurry To Go Nowhere"



That's my weekend, y'all...

Be easy.

Is It Friday Yet? (200 posts and counting)

So I'm laying on the slab, recouping from the punishment from the sports massage on my shoulder and surrounding areas...

Colored inks courtesy of Lavender...

Fresh linens courtesy of me not being lazy, and Snuggle brand fabric softener (pay me, bitches!!!) ...

"The Infamous Book" aka "101 Shades Of Indigo" aka "My Verses" at my side, cracked open to another empty page, ready for another session...

2nd Corona halfway done... Chilled perfectly at 34 degrees thanks to my electric bottle cooler...

Egyptian Musk incense... blazin!

The mood is almost set, I'm still in a lot of pain and can't lay the way I need my body to be. Did that make sense? I'm thinking about the mood Chicago gets itself in during the fall season. The sisters swinging locs sporting knitted headwraps and faux fur with real leather, brothers rocking something paramilitary up top with dockers and a polo, tims rounding out the fit' perfectly...

Coffeehouses and poetry spots are ablaze on the weekends... A few spots are worth gathering and waiting for a table. Pre holiday buzz... Something from D'Angelo is rocking over the house system. Maybe its SpqHer (Chi-Illa always gets love). it's about that time. I finna' write something, but I just don't know what it is or from which vibe...

"I'm scribblin my verses so I can get in them purses... try to rock with no curses with limited rehearses"... I grab the burgundy ink joint and start scribing':


What gives me the pleasure in motivating myself to rise, mornings laced with doubt and displeasure, predisposed pain and hardship waiting at my front door...

I roll over and am still next to you.

It's not the fact that I rose before you, giving me the unfair advantage of getting to happy first by watching you in a peaceful slumber.

It ain't even the fact that I can watch you prep for your day, getting free peeks of that wiggle and jiggle, knowing I can just reach out and touch whenever...

Makes me wanna slap some ass... Really.

I wanna slap some ass.
Damn, I need to get some and stat.

Rule # 1: Unless you're R.Kelly, NEVER write horny. Unless...Nah.

Too sappy right now. I feel a little beat up and I feel the need to be held. Sistergirl rubbed the hell out of me and woke up all of the torn tissues that didn't even know they were torn, so that won't do right now, I'll finish that one later.

I feel the need to big up those that have supported me out here doing my thing. Hmmm, let's see:


In my current void on empty
One inkling of thought that is you
rights my capsized ship

You will not let me sink.

In my current state of self doubt
A mention of your name keeps me
From performing dire actions

You will not let me die.

When thoughts of mayhem controls
My thought process
To know you are right there
Makes that process normal
Or something like it

You won't let me act out.

I reach for the hope that is you
But I cannot touch anything
My fingertips feel no sensation
And then I reminisce on your scent
But I'm so far from the nape of your neck
It almost makes me forget.

The only thing in my grasp are beads of sweat
and inches of my own clammy folds of flesh
But the sensation of that last touch lingers

You will not met me miss you.

In the confusion that is me yearning to
Make right now become yesterday
I commit my actions with the most urgent intent
To share the sun with you to create one shadow

You make me want to breathe your air.

Sooner than later we'll walk in the same spaces
Creating more moments where time is lost and
more
moody
moments
that'll amass my mental rolodex

You keep me sane.

The hope of breaking bread and sharing
The comforter, stealing sheets
Keeps my mental stimulated when I must detatch
And be in your world when I'm away from you.

The fact that your moon rotates around my planet
Keeps my satellite in proper orbit in this universe
You become my gravitational pull

You affect my alignment.

In moments when my knees are week
The strength that holds me
Are the thoughts I reflect on
To move forward and carry on is to
Think of you.

You are my reason.

In the midst of chaos and disorder
You become my calmest moment
Fleeting moments of peace happen each time
I close my eyes.

That's when I see you.

2006 Hassan Olumoroti Ntimbanjayo


Okay, that's what's up!!! I feel like that's the old me trying to break thru. That was straight freestyle and I hope it makes sense. Then again, that was what was on my heart and it came out somewhat fluidly.

Maybe I should edit it.
Nah, maybe I should blog it and let the fam figure it out...

and then edit it.

Yeah, that's what I'll do.

Not bad for my 200th post here on Blogger. Thanks fam for coming thru and reading my repetitive, boring, stanking ass. I really appreciate it. One more day in Salt Lake City and then its a Ben Wallace jersey and one more White Sox home game.

and now ~credits~

Rose, I hear you.
Mora, I love you.
Aisa, I ain't thinking bout that.
Troy, I AM thinking bout that.
Al, thanks for that.
Heather, it took you long enough.
Lonnie, thanks for returning my call... from September 3.
Riley, hang in there... And get off that damn truck.
Lavender... You actually called me. Wow. Domino, nigga. (slam!)
Aqua, I still can't believe you did that...
Neena. Um, I don't do it on purpose, it just comes out that way.
Stilt, "boop boop beep - The number you have reached"...

Talking To Myself

Conversation

I crave conversation with you.

All I want to do is talk to you. You make me want to create new verbs, pronouns and adjectives just to prolong the chat.
I never wanted to share time with someone and explore them from the outside in, this is what I want with you.
I want to know about the trivial and the external and all that you sopped up over the years until it gets deeper.
Every time we speak, I plan on digging deeper having conversation and learning all the new that is you until we are too old to speak, too senile to argue but just young enough to reminisce.

All I need is a word.

From the time I first heard your voice I knew that is was the soundtrack for all things good and right for me.
My bass matched your treble, baritone flowed with your soprano.
I knew that whatever we blurbed about had meaning in the way it was projected.
We're direct, meaningful and full of purpose.
We've never had meaningless chatter because we can't make that so.
Each work that leaves your lips and embraces my ears has a deep rooted definition that only I can understand.

I just want to talk. Briefly.

The days that I go without hearing and speaking with you devalues homonyms.
My narrative descriptive has no shape or form
My words float into space and become as worthless an the distance and time it takes to travel into nothingness.
My syntax is insignificant.
I do prepare chanced to speak to you, pacing my room, mincing over words and figuring out the right combination of breath control and phrase so I can flo it to you freely.
It is only in this moment that I can tell you that I miss not speaking and how I withdraw from the now when we are silent with each other.
I wilt without my words.

Just say something.

Communicate with this brother, let me know what irks you and how.
Let me know if you crave sugar of need spice to make that dish just right.
Indicate to me if that program we watched last night was straight up booty.
Inform me that tracks 3 and 11 are the only cuts hitting on my CD.
Tell me about the time you broke mamma's dishes while dancing in the kitchen to that song you can't remember.
Help me relate to your childhood by telling me kid adventures.
I'm all ears, just blab until I fall asleep, I promise I won't forget and we'll finish that convo another day on another pillowcase.

What did you say?

Make me say it again while allowing to focus on your lips as you enunciate and thrust verbiage in my direction.

Let me rephrase that...

Make me forget my statements while observing your lips as you force them into curvature and illicit shapes while vocalizing satisfaction and satiations of your day. Make your words become incantation and put me in trance.

Simple conversation does this... To me.

I'd like you to do that, so let's talk.

I wrote that back in April for someone. I never knew that I would not be able to recite it to them in September.

Such as life, I guess.

I've been traveling in the past couple of days, getting over to Colorado and Nevada in the past couple of days, just doing shit. I'm bored as hell and I decided that the mountains would probably take the edge off.

I am not looking forward to going to Chicago, I do understand the seriousness of the business at hand. I have an album to finish in mere weeks and I don't want to rush thru it or come up with some wack stuff for the sake of finishing . If Al and I do the right thing and follow the template we constructed then this project (I'm looking at this as our one last chance to contribute our feelings and passion about hip hop to our peers) should not only be a good one, but it should sell as well.

After listening to the stuff we've recorded already and going over a few tracks Al has prepped I called bruh up and told him that we needed balance. That means that we need to find a female voice to compliment both the tracks and my voice. There has always been one voice in our works and that one has been mine. I feel like if we open the tracks up and add vocal ying to my yang that it'll have more appeal and put that missing element in our compositions. Al is with it and has already suggested someone that I have to meet next weekend I hope. If not, we will be auditioning female co-leads for the group. This is big. Our sound has changed so much over the years and I think that the element of estrogen (and a somewhat disinterested third party to add objectivity to my writing and Al's production) is what we probably needed in the first place, so I'm excited about that.

Can you believe that I haven't heard from my family since I told folks that I was coming back to Chicago? Well, I did hear from my mother Friday and the only question she had for me was:

"So did you get a ticket going back? You did get round trip tickets, right?"

I shit you not, this was the only question ma dukes had for me when she called that afternoon. After about 30 seconds of silence and an inbound call that straight saved my ass from snapping the eff off (I totally forgot about respect in that moment, thanks Al for calling me back) I mentioned that I had an important call coming in and I had to go. She was already hanging up in that moment. So I made a few calls this weekend while watching snow fall in the mountains in September and I have to either do the nigga-circuit and crash at various cat's cribs and put up with baby momma drama and such or a possible turn to an ex or two just to lay my head. This'll probably last a few weeks, I do have a few job interviews lined up and I expect to be either temping or doing the cubicle shuffle before the end of the month. I just don't know how I'm going to get out of the airport with my shit. No prob, I got Lortabs and Oxycotton... I'll get a little numb before the plane lands.

I ain't worried about Chicago, shit like fam not returning my calls and moms tripping that I might invade her zip code was the same shit I complained about in blogs past, so at least it feels like home. That'll probably motivate me to compose my opus, choose the right vocalist for the group, vibe like hell with her and write tighter shit and develop a killer stage show that'll get us an optimum deal and possibly get some records sold. Like they say, the best revenge is living well. And plus, I'll break protocol and eat a chicken wing or two in celebration of getting back to the Windy City.

And Bulls training camp opens...
And the Sox might make the playoffs.
If not, there's always that nice drive to the D to see the Tigers make a World Series Run.
And I'll finally complete this damn album.

Finally.

Princess Dominique, Yazmar, Zed, Rell, Nsane in the Membrane, Buck, GP, Namiliar, Chele, Missy, Verse One, Zesty Zest and Aqua (how brave of you - I just can't do it)... I'm reading.

The Love I Lost...

I was going to write a freestyle piece about loves lost and how I am happy that they are happy, but I decided not to. It's nice to see people fall in love and get the goods. Even exes.That ish gets me all misty.

Hey Island Girl, I still love you and I was really going to do the do, but some other cat beat me to it and stole you from me. I'm keeping an eye out to make sure you stay happy. If dude even comes close to effing up...

It's on.

I'm happy that you're happy and I wish you well. You are truly blessed to find him. With your sexy ass.


moving on...

I'm still in Salt Lake City (well, West Valley City to be exact) until next Friday. I'm headed to Chicago, but it's all business. I think from my last post a few got it twisted about me and my rig.

I love my rig
(yep, yep - I love you daddy)
I love my rig
(yep, yep - I love you daddy)

I got injured pushing my 38,000 pound, big boned, redbone assed sexy love machine but that doesn't mean I want to leave her. The fact that I didn't even have to pimp that ass to get 15 stacks a week is reason enough I don't want to leave. The fact that she lets me take pictures of other phillies out on the road as I travel all up and thru the US and Canada without answering to anyone is another. I can't leave her all willy-nilly but my ex is back in the picture...

Hip Hop is calling my stank ass again and I can't ignore the number on my caller ID. She keeps ringing my celly and sending me sexy-ass emails telling me that she knows that she can seduce my trifling arse anytime she wants. She reminds me of them days from wayback when we used to rock together and had all these other folks sweating whenever we spoke to em.

We made em' watch us make love on a pedestal.

It was no problem for her to do her slow wind and make other cats all hard and ish dance to her rhythm. All I did was speak over her drum.

I remember us all locked up in those tiny rooms, just us and Mic. All up in my ear, incense lit and Al twisting her knobs to tweak that ass, causing my voice to ride over her like like lotion to ashy skin.

She sends me picture mail of a larger dude with an afro cuffing Mic and singing odes to my people, her dancing in the background and Al doing the wiggy wiggy on the manhole covers.

I miss that bitch.

She stood me up so many times.

She promised me things that she just couldn't deliver.

I made a mistake in 2000 and left her, vowing not to eff with her stankin ass... But I kept seeing her with other cats. I wasn't jealous but I couldn't watch her get done up like that.

That was MY ish...

I hollered at Al, there is a huge opportunity to reclaim our spot in the name of her, so we're getting back together. There's even word of a commitment ceremony coming soon. I ain't told the rig yet... Better yet (I named her 'K' after another lost love), might as well:


Dear K,

You put it down like a true ride or die bitch. You took me places I've never been. We rode out and mushed little Civics and Accords in traffic, and that felt good. Baby, you got horsepower! I ain't never been with someone so strong, but so gentle. You protected me from the elements and also got me off faster than any of the other ones, even Jetta. Aiight, I won't bring her up again. She doesn't even hold a candle to you.

I need you to understand that HH is my real true love. Remember the convo we had when I said that you might meet her? You did and still held it down like I knew you would. Didn't even trip. Even though we had those little breakdowns in Nashville and Portland, we still made it thru a lot and for that I appreciate you. You helped me get back to HH and now I must go back to the Chi because she's waiting for me to return. I know that you can't get there with me but know that I enjoyed every minute of us riding out together. You gave me a sense of purpose, seasoned me in the art of moving about and made me a better rider. I got stamina and drive, and can keep it going much longer now more than I ever though I would by effing with you. I never knew that I could go all night like that. You taught me that baby. You broke me in K, and for that I'll never forget you.

HH promised me something that I could never have from you: babies! Her groove and my words have already spawned countless bouts of aural pleasure. Now's the time to end our practice rounds and start planning to spawn a family. It was enevitable that this was going to happen , but we did agree on a no strings attatched relationship, so I know you won't take this hard. I already know that you're probably ready to break another amateur rider in and make him a pro like you did me. He's ready, and so are you.

So in moving on I would like to say thank you. You gave me the ability to learn new things and get to new places, helped me make my mind up about HH and you also afforded me the ability to purchase an engagement ring I'll never use. Know that my relationship with HH is overseen by Al and know that we're even adding a girl to the mix, so the love is being shared and there will be balance.

I wish you well in all your future riding, and who knows, after we work on making a few babies there's a chance that we could get back and ride again.

I'd like that.

Peace and Blessings, you're my 'rigga, but you already knew that.

Hassan


Yep, that's right.




Blackfist is back.

You Know Something Happened, Right?

That's right, I had an incident.

On the 28th of last month in Jersey City, NJ (in which I discovered the Ringside Grill, Mike Tyson, his trainer Mario who owns the joint and the adjoining gym, Luis Collazo's people and lil' ugly ass Beetlejuice who really shouldn't drink alcohol) as I was backing the truck into a parking space, I cut the steering wheel hard to the left and held on to get a good cutting angle to get the trailer into the space properly (hey, I'm fresh outta training). I also held onto the wheel as the 515 HP engine cut the wheel back to its normal position which yanked my arm to the right, effectively ripping my biceps tendon and probably tearing my rotator cuff.


I'm hurt.


I've been back in Salt Lake city since the 30th going thru rehab and medical tests. The company thought I was faking the injury, so I got flown in. After preliminary tests in Seacaucus, NJ and various poking and prodding it seems that my pain and weakness has been validated. I've been on a Lortab/Naproxen/Ibuprofen/Tagamet cocktail since last week which is the reason I haven't blogged. I've only spoken with a chosen few and totally lost contact with a few more. Really tells me what's really good with folk I still consider good people but let's me know who I should and should not eff with.


I ain't complaining.

I get an MRI tomorrow morning (September 11, right... I know) and that should tell me how much damage has been really done. I'm not depressed but I'm really bummed out that I've been grounded and am back all up and thru Mormon central.


Whatever, man.

After we develop a treatment plan for the shoulder (the left one) I am on the first thing smoking to Chicago. It's not a good thing to be stranded, isolated and injured in an unfamiliar place with little to no support.

random ish:

Yes, I have an injury attorney... We're working so chill.

Yes, I'm thinking of getting out of the trucking ish, especially if I have major damage

Big, big shouts to my sister Heather for keeping me sane and getting me some cash when I needed it

Big, major shots to Aisa as well for keeping me grounded and focused

Lick a shot for DeAnne as well for spiritual convo. And we gotta finish that convo about Ray Bradbury and Fahrenheit 451... I loved that book.

Al, I'm coming home so we can finish what we started... I'm pumped about that.

I have job offers in Chicago and Atlanta pending... Someone is keeping me from making the ATL my new condo spot...

I met some cool ass people here in Salt Lake... Wassup Jodi, keep working on Randy's ass. Y'all belong together.

I'm left handed and I injured my left shoulder... Typing is a mutha... I wonder if I were a chronic master of my own domain how I would feel at this moment. I guess I'll have to use my other hand.

Al and I had a very lengthy convo and it is imperative that I get back to the Chi and finish recording the album. This (other than the shoulder thing, shoulder thing, shoulder thing (get it right, 2 step and and let the shoulder thing... Never mind) is the reason I'm getting back to the Chi. There might be a nice reward for finishing the album sooner than later.

Like someone else working hard to press and distribute the CD.

Overstood?

I think I might blog more often now that I'm out of my 'hooked on vicodin' phase.