30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Thirty's Final Post

I know, 3 posts in one day is a little mad, but this one caps things off. I was going to post the finale of the story of 'the kid' who went to that party, but I have someone I'd like you to meet:

This is Hassan. He looks kind of stressed. Hassan has had sex this year and although he processed the proper forms and led the investigations on his sexual partner(s), he still cannot be sure that he's okay as a result of a few hot nights of passion Hassan is thinking of a way that he can reassure himself that he is safe and disease free and make sure his partner(s) didn't pull the okee doke on his ass
Hassan knows that tomorrow, December 1st is World AIDS Day, and that free testing will be given in countless places thruout Chicago, and in your neighborhood for that matter. What's better than free, you say?
Knowing that you're safe from the cooties.

Get in the know. Get that ass out tomorrow like Hassan and get tested.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Mid-Thirty

SimplyDiva has answered my most recent piece that I posted called 'Pounce' in a Teena Marie like manner with her own. Let's read together, shall we?

If You Pounce

You asked if you could walk up and squeeze me

Only if you allow me to squeeze you back

To prove that I am real

And warm....waiting to be brushed up against your skin

Sharing nibbles of goodness with each other

Oh

My goodness

It won't hurt

And I know that when you sucked me

You were damn hard

Hard enough for me to feel through the hugs

I'd love to cuddle with you during the pre-game show

Arms wrapped around each other

Legs intertwined

A prelude to 4 quarters of a hot, hard played, savage game

Full of trick plays and plenty of scoring going on

I'll be in the shower while the game is on

Lathering up until you decide that you're bored with the game

My legs are smooth

So is everything elseReady and waiting to be licked again

You'd know that if you pounce

You can't walk up behind me while I'm cooking though

You're too much of a distraction

I'd burn the rolls thinking about you bending me over the dining room table

Pouncing on me

Putting me to sleep

So that I can kiss you awake again

..

2006 SimplyDiva

Shit.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day One Third of Thirty

Pounce


Let me walk up and squeeze you, cause' I know that you're not real.
Can I brush up against you and maybe we can share a little nibble...

of us?

Will you let me read your lips with my eyes closed?
Don't bite me, dammit!
I didn't suck you that damn hard, so stop it.

Can we cuddle until the pre-game show ends?

Unless you let me watch you shave your legs
I'll be up front cause the game is on.

you never let me know when you're going to shower,
and that's no fair
all I was going to do was pounce you anyway

Make me fire up the TiVo
ever think we could make the players watch us?

I want get close up behind you as you cook naked
maybe then you will feel me

Oops, that was an unexpected poke

My bad.

I wish that you would fall asleep so I can slurp you awake
just don't kick me

copyright 2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty Nine

So I'm horny

I'm also a little tipsy

And I also just had an interesting convo with a friend

Normally, a little fried fish, good convo and a few adult beverages would soothe a savage beast, but today it ain't working. I could poke a hole into something right now, and I really need to release, but you guys know me... I need spiritual stimulation in order to have a little sensual rhythm.

Damn.

Way too many diseases and ulterior motives hanging out here to even think about casual sex. But there is one person that I am willing to purchase a plane ticket to go and visit. And when I get there I would surely beat it up.

Three or four times.

To hell with that, maybe five to seven times, we ain't never done it and I need to show and prove. Put a brotha on speed dial.

Maybe she'll quit her job and just stalk my ass...

Have you ever been stimulated to the point where you could just strip down and taste that person in public, right in front of your mama and not give a damn? I was taken there by someone, and now I really need to get this monkey off my back. And I don't masturbate, so I'm having a hard time (no pun intended... okay, pun intended, it's affecting the way I walk) and I hate when I can't have what I want when I want it.

Just makes me wanna get to the gym and try to work that shit out, get frustrated and go over there and just take it. If she lets me.

I really wanna just go over there and just bang it out and sop up all the juices until the soreness kicks in.

And then do it again.

I could really hurt the bottom of my tongue from licking her waaaaaay too much. I need to know the how as far as the texture of her nipples are concerned. I am a skin freak. I get off of color and texture, soft and rough. I want to feel that softness crash up against my abdomen as I apply much thrust from behind. I need her to remember just how deep I can dig.

I've been here in Chicago for 2 months now, and there is one sound I miss. No, not the sound of road construction at 4 in the morning. Not even the air raid alert every Tuesday at 10:30 am. I miss the sound of flesh crashing against each other. That sound of moistness, skin and the subtle slap of flesh in a rhythmic format. I miss the sound of baited breath and nasty words as they collide with my ears. Unnecessarily lustful phrases of lust with a touch of violence:

"Fuck the shit out of me"

and that's a basic one.

Do I really need to be the human equivalent of a laxative? Nope, but I sure do miss trying.

I remember coming home from work with this feeling in my quads and lower back. See I knew when I was going to get some and my body used to prepare for it in the car. By the time I'd get to the front door, my desire to be all long winded and conversational was cut short because I had the firm desire to bring my thrust from as far down as my ankles. I really wanted to put the same effort I did in the gym earlier that day. I needed to have her beg for mercy, so I would just come in and start puling sweats, panties, what have you down. I would pin her up against the full length mirror because of my vain manner and arrogance. I would make sure I wasn't the one that got tired and wanted to pass out.

I made sure we knocked shit over and she had ample time, space and opportunity to yell because I wanted the neighbors to know that I wasn't no mutherfucking joke. Plus, no relationship is guaranteed, so there might be a prospect that wanted and need to get done like that... Just spying. Rubbing all over themselves wishing that I had come over there instead...

Wait... I'm blogging, not on some sexual rant!


ERASE... ERASE!!!

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty Eight And A Half...

Peace, blessings, all that good stuff. I took a few days off from the blogging thing out of frustration. You see, I don't get down with the American holiday thing, and so many of y'all do, So I have to distance myself from that shit because I think it's .... Shit. Also, last year on sThanksgiving day or whatever you call it, I wanted so badly to end my life and I tried, but I am a punk. Well, I bitched out because my desire to live outweighed being in effed up situations, so as much as I like to be alone, I really wanted to be alone for sure because I knew I was going to get the happy-ass residual sThanksgiving boolshit from someone, and of course I did. Best to just leave me alone before I start on John Hawkins and end on so-called African Americans hoodwinked to go along with a Euro tradition and are still considered three fifths of a human being...

I digress.

So when I kept coming to blogger in it's new and improved Beta form, I thought that posting would be easier. All I wanted to do was post some very nice shots I took of a concert I enjoyed. Maybe some joy could be had by others by sharing the magic of flash photography.

That shit just didn't work out last week.

So I just got frustrated and stopped trying. Until today. I heard from a few and agree with you all. I cannot boycott my own ish, and I owe y'all a couple of days seeing as I logged in and did nothing Sunday and Monday, violating my own 30 Days/30 Posts thing. So I will give you 30. Shit, that's almost like having a multiple orgasm, and speaking of such, I tried this weekend, I really did, but some things just don't go as planned.

.

Shit.

.

ONTO THE PICS DAMMIT!!!

.

.

.

stimulate the pictures, click on them for greater detail and to make them bigger!

.

.

What began as an empty, cold evening a week ago became a hot night in the name of hip hop. Long time lyrical legend Big Daddy Kane was in Chicago, and although I've been to a few Kane concerts, I know Chicago isn't generous or forgiving to artists not on the mainstream map

The stage was set for Kane to amaze and dazzle us damn near a decade removed from releasing any new material in album format. Does he still have it? Will we be bored by old cliches?

Backed by Connie Price and the Keystones, Kane started what turned out to be a tight set of hits. And then... he stopped the music and gave us a freestyle.

Still got it.

Had the crowd wrapped around his finger... And the ladies. Hell, I was a young man when he debuted damn near 20 years ago... Some of them don't even know he had the mojo to pose nude to rave reviews friggin 15 years ago. The ladies were in awe. This brother had energy





And the crowd gave back





Best shot of the night



Lots of old heads in the house... We represented well.


He made it personal, chucked the glasses and jacked and threw the final 15 minutes of the set into overdrive
Thanked us when we should have thanked him



Graciously signed some stuff for a few folks and exited the building.
I didn't want to leave.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty Eight

currently boycotting my own blog

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty Five

Is it Sunday yet?

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty Four

Still can't get them damn pics up on the blog from the show Monday night... One more shot tonight, or tomorrow.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty Three

Bah.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Tewnty Two

I thought I'd try to re post the pics from the Big Daddy Kane event from Monday night but I still cannot upload them onto Blogger. For some strange reason after I switched to the Beta version there are a lot of things touted that I can do but cannot for some reason or another.

I really wanted to get em up here for folks to look at after gouging themselves damn near to death and not having nothing better to do when football became too much, but to no avail. I'm sorry. I am currently on the road doing the hotel thing and my access to the net is spotty until Friday, so I don't expect to post until then. So for those that do practice the farce known as stanksgiving... Be safe and drive like you have some gat damn sense. As a trained professional truck driver dude, for some strange reason you people drive like bats outta hell on full.

Fulla likker
Fulla turkey
Fulla emotion because some random family member done pissed you off
Fulla football
Fulla bounciness (trying to make it to more than 3 houses to make a plate, so you bounce to another spot)

I've seen too many Honda Civic and Hyundai drivers think the interstate is Pole Position and just shoot around our 80 thousand pound death machines that we cannot stop like they have pinball bumpers on their shit...

Too many stupid ass folks that drive while sleepy - It's a Department of Transportation regulation that we get 10 hours a day in order to drive safely, what about your staying up all night trying to cook cause I ain't gotta work tomorrow ass?

Too many people that have too many people in the ride and think they got eyes in the back of their head. And on the sides of the car, and on the roof... here's a tip: Leave some of those folk where they be. Uncle Ruckus'll get em.


Remember this:

It takes the length of a football field in order for us to stop an unloaded trailer on a perfect dry day at 40 MPH. Imagine what it'll take for me to stop if I had a full load, there is bad weather, holiday traffic and I'm pissed because I can't see the game or be with my family unable to get a friggin turkey giblet.

I lost a co-worker at the hospital I volunteer at last Sunday. She had her man, her best friend and her best friend's man all in the car and they all died because she fell asleep at the wheel. The other three in the car were sleep too.

I'll miss em' really I will, but...

STUPID!!! (four grown folks in a car... all of em sleep and no one wanted to spring for a hotel?)

I know you wanna get over to grandma's or over to auntie's house for that annual bidwhist tournament, but...

Is it that serious people?

Drive safely... that's my tip and wish for this next couple of days off. Act like you got some fucking sense. And drive the speed limit. Please. And without drowsiness.

Be easy my people... I'm sleep until 3:45 tomorrow afternoon, then it's TiVo and a fruit salad.


And more sleep.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty One

I'll let the photos speak for themselves due to blogger losing my entire post and review of the show. That shit took an hour to do and I ain't reposting from the public library, so....

and now I can't load the damn pix

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twenty

Spent most of the day trying to find new digs, making phone calls and getting over to the BDK show...

Pics coming Tuesday

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Nineteen

I really didn't have much today.



I packed, talked to my brother in law and sister and gave notice on my intent to leave and watched a little football. I got out and bought supplies for travel and then got in a nap. Yes, I slept.



Next question!



My day had nothing to do with writing or creating. That is the first time that has happened since the month began. I need to buy batteries. I plan on taking a lot of flix Monday night during the Scion event featuring Big Daddy Kane...



How much of a fan am I? Check this:

That was the spring of 89. Me and my main home skillet and current manhole cover spinna DJ MorninMan was laying in the cut, cameras waiting at a long missed record emporium that gave us the imports, etcetera when a handful of hip hop ledgends stopped by. And yes, that's Flavor Flav back there and that cut off brother in the shot is the one and only rhyme animal Chuck D. This was the first, but not the last run-in with the smooth operator... I got rapport with Mistachuck via appearances, email and his blog, but Kane... Wow, I got stories. Thank the lord for cool ass Army bases next to cooler ass venues in the eighties and nineties.

This concert should be hot. It's been a minute

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Eighteen

So today I worked the phone in the morning, talking up new job prospects

I stripped myself down to basic essentials, throwing away unneeded stuff

My goal, 1 army duffel bag, 1 large, rolling suitcase, weighing under 75 pounds

I have exactly what I need, laptop, camera PDA/Phone and noise cancelling headphones

Emptied my space here in Chicago

Caught the Michigan - Ohio State game

Put in more phone calls sent a fax or two and had a lunch with an old business associate

Visited a few candidates for temporary housing here in Chicago

Got up on a marvelous vege burrito

Got back to see Cal vs USC

counted my money and plotted out strategy

did this

going to stretch out and get into a handful of asanas

and then write something...

what, you thought I went to bed? Pul-lease... there will be time for sleep when I'm dead.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Seventeen

And the results are in...

I will not have surgery on my rotator cuff.

That means after 3 months of therapy on my shoulder and working with a personal trainer for the past 6 weeks I have come to a point where I will forgo the surgical procedure and take other measures to rehab and heal, which means my time in Chicago is just about over.

I have no emotional attachment to the city, family or upcoming events, so I plan on catching on to something I've been quietly planning (employment wise, just to keep things secure) in the next day or so. If I have my way I can be free of Chicago and all of its wonderful trappings by Saturday night. Let's hope things go well with that, shall we?

I get weird questions sometimes and a few recently have to do with my diet. I hope folks overstand that diet is defined as something you put in your body and not something you hold off on or take out. I know folk don't stop by daily so in order to help out, I'll repeat some things I rant about on my blog from time to time:

I am vegetarian

I am also an unlicensed, unregistered but trained dietitian

I don't give advice, but I practice what I've learned

I was in a 5 year relationship with a personal trainer, vegetarian and successful triathlete before I decided to do my own thing so I am a witness to a lot of holistic success and abundant health not of my own. I had to step my game up if I wanted to hang sexually and otherwise, so I began my own practice

I hopped in a registered dietitian course recommended to me by the hospital staff after my initial diabetes episode and ended up staying for what turned out to be many more classes and meeting people and learning things that opened my other eye

The first eye was opened when I read 'How To Eat To Live' by Elijah Muhammad

Yes, I practiced Islam

Yes, I went to a seminary school

I was raised Catholic, left the church at 16 after speaking with a cardinal about the farce that is religion and joined a baptist church to chase after all the loose women. Note I said women. There were girls involved in my conquests too. After being a heathen I became a practicing Muslim at 18 and then I traveled overseas and lived there for 3 years which removed me from Islam. More farce, more bullshit and realized ignorance on how things were taught when I visited the Holy Land and the Motherland - no more questions

I knew from an early age that the systems of African descendants could not accept the Euro diet

All I need is what is given to me from the earth, if we ain't killt it yet

I've had my fair share of junk food and pleasure/comfort eating, and it almost killed me, from heart ailments, to diabetes to my current kidney thing, all from forcing myself to accept the Euro diet

I can't eat half that shit now. My innards are sooo delicate. And sensitive as all hell

I know that there are no cows, chickens or pigs where my people come from and that gene is strong, so how could I accept that for nourishment and expect to be healthy?

I also overstand that death only attracts more dead things. Dead flesh only makes live flesh more dead-er (if that's a word). One receives no nourishment from anything that no longer lives (including text, people and practice thus the religious references), so meat is out of the question

I ain't perfect, so there is fish... I consume lots of freshly caught fish. Call me contradicted. Chicago, next to Florissant, MO has the most farm raised seafood spots on the planet. And then I realize that most of us (in Chicago) are from the south... Or an island... Or some costal region

I am a juicer though

And a plant eater

And a fruit eater

I'm also fond of eating my STD tested partner (nice plug for World AIDS Day - Get tested y'all 12/1)

And a simple man

I know that I cannot have live enzymes all the damn time, so I purchase canned juices and things of the sort seeing as I'm always on the go

I no longer take medication for anything. Since my diet has changed, I have no adverse lab results (except the kidney thing, which seems to be normalizing these days), but I have broken many bones and suffered a ton of soft tissue and joint related injuries, so there is wear and tear

I'm approaching my 37th revolution around the sun and I am healthier and somewhat pain free since ridding myself of a lot of dead things, including dead thinking people and practices, so I'm motivated to continue on that route, seems to be working

If I sound strange, then check yourself, I'm sure there are things you do that one can deem out of place.

Oh, and after reading Ian Fleming's 'Casino Royale' and seeing the other interpolations of the book over the years I decided to treat myself to the newer version (number 3, I believe) of the introductory Bond story. I enjoyed it. True to the Bond character in every manner. All that other stuff was embellished by the Bond actors and it really had me going seeing as I've been fond of the series since I was a kid, but to see Ian's Bond makes me hate all the other movies because the character over the years was so far removed from what the author intended for purposes of selling tickets. As a writer, that sucks. So I reread the book a while ago and then went to the premier today... Excellent. This should have been done years ago. Daniel Craig even looked like how Mr. Fleming described him in his writings, but we know about how folk change up the look of certain folk to sell more tickets, don't we? Think not? Check out 'The Color Of The Cross', and not to steal anything from my homie Femigog, check out her blogpost on it from a while ago.

Well, that's Friday, day seventeen...

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Sixteen

my feet are tired and hurting
this shuffle feels endless but I keep on

my shoulders are tense boulders unable to relax and let go
it ain't heavy but it is cumbersome

I can carry it



the ground is now cold and wet
I cannot fall without getting wet and frozen
that disturbs me

until you reached out to me

I saw your hand and didn't want to grasp it at first

I knew that its warmth was too hot for me to handle
with bare skin and too rigid from age and experience
for me not to want to read your palm

but I grabbed it anyway

You skipped, I walked
You kept skipping,
I strolled... knowing that the pace was right

You stumbled, I grabbed you
and your hand slipped out of mine

I looked down and you were gone.
You were inexplicably in front of me
paces away right back to skipping

I asked you to slow down and walk with me
the sidewalk got crowded and it got too loud




distance





you got smaller and smaller in the crowd
somewhere away from where I was, still walking

DAMMIT STOP RUNNING!!!

you stopped out of concern and to close the gap.
I opened my mouth to speak

and somebody stepped on my damn toe


mother fucker!


I hobbled home, blood in my shoe.


and I went to bed
determined to walk another day.




copyright 2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Fifteen

I've never started something I could not finish

I am working on various stories at the same time right now. That and my future print project keep me up all night

I usually come up with the fictional stuff right before I post it, but I still have a problem creating fictional stuff

Most of my work is based on factual events that happened in my life. One day I'll be able to spin some shit and make it dope.

My first work (if y'all didn't know, I am shameless about my joints) will arrive in print this spring.

I have another work coming that has been inspired by a friend. I'm now working on a handful of intertwining short stories.

I don't hate compliments. I've learned how to receive them I just don't know where to put them. I do appreciate them though

It's just hard to take when your work has been rejected and people have told you to suppress it for so long

I am doing this full time now and I thought that I would get a chance to get outside and play. Boy was I wrong.

Aloe Vera juice ain't that bad.

Cayenne fruit and ginger give me the shits. Good ones though.

I'm trying to avoid shoulder surgery but my rotator cuff is torn... Rehab doesn't suck, it's just time consuming as all hell

I hate that it's taking more time than usual to complete the album. And to think, I got another one to do (one spoken word, another hip hop)

Nag Champa and Egyptian Musk make my day. I burn about 20 sticks of incense a day

I have to meditate each morning to get it right. Otherwise, I'll fight you

When I sleep, I usually go to bed at about 6am, then get right up at 7 to SSS (shit, shower and shave) and then get out of the house

I train 4 days a week, even with my current kidney ailment, and I rehab my injured shoulder 3 times a week, other than that, I volunteer at the University hospital which is an unspeakable experience sometimes bad, most times damn good

I am not hooking up with the family next Thursday, that would make me a hypocrite

I'm drinking about a whole 6 pack of V8 each day along with 2 meal replacement shakes... I want a hamburger, except for I don't eat red meat

have you seen the new iPod twins but they're flash drives on eBay? Twice the capacity, can show video and much friggin less than the actual iPod. Smoking!

I need a show of hands to see who's watching the OJ thing?

Hands please...

SUCKAAAAS!!!!

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Fourteen

Release...

I can't create the effort to motion forward until the hands of time recognize my misnomer and we can make an agreement for me to be released from its grasp

all functionality flies out the window because of what you have done to me
From your lips to my ears down to my heart, I feel the wretched indigestion where nourishment used to go

my weakness blames itself on the last glance of your wicked frame
the cold that forces itself through my system causing uncontrollable responses of disease is the direct result of the last time my body felt your touch

you abandoned me in the simplest of forms making your voice the noise no longer at my beckon call, it causes my hatred of all things not you to go in your direction and point its finger directly in your vicinity

I want to destroy any trace of residue that you and yours from my mental, knowing that would cease me from being in existence... I am willing to take this risk

I have no other option

by tying all of me from ancestor to kingdom come into yours and by me leaping so far out on faith that I cannot jump back makes me want to topple the pillars at pharoe's place

My touch has been tainted by anti-life and my eyes can no longer lay themselves on the youth, I despise the future so

I have been betrayed

the pain from the knife wound you placed in my back feels far much better than the disdain I have created for you, I hope I never get the chance to share, for my wrath has destroyed planets, pulled stars and satellites out of orbit and have drawn solar flares millions of miles away from the sun

I pray for the day that you look at the sky

I want to scortch this plane of existence so that others can feel what I cannot rid myself of

the saddest thing is that I cannot die, being cursed to live in the brimstone pond that is your memory as I watch you walk with him, on top of heated stone

in my personal hell that is this life, I ask all of the gods and every deity combined to allow me to kiss you one more time so I can assure that you know what it is to breathe fire

my hate for you is my release

copyright 2006 hassan Ntimbanjayo

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Thirteen

What part of 'Blackfist is back' did you not understand?


Don't think it's going to be Zane central all up and thru here, aiight?



Yes, that actually happened, it's a blend of two situations that happened in the past...



I am very discliplined, I am also very spiritual and sensitive. Doesn't mean I have no nasty



I feel for the Levert family, but I know what it feels like to drag around 300 pounds



Get off the holiday pity pot. You ain't got no real reason to be depressed. Quit making shit up.



That was my post for Monday... You want the heat, you gotta wait until tomorrow.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Twelve

I posted this one on purpose, very late. Read on and you'll know why.



I got to my block quicker than I expected, unwilling to park in my space in the back. I pretty much left the car a little crooked in front of the complex. She had no clue that I got there so fast, me still hearing her squeals of pleasure, and her knowing that I was at my highest point of horny.

I stayed on the phone, quietly closing the car door and climbed the stairs. I did my best James Bond and got into my apartment with the utmost of quiet, wanting badly to witness her in my bed pleasuring herself as I hid away somewhere behind a door or something. I raced down the hall as quiet as I could to the bedroom so I could get a peek in when I realized...

She wasn't in my bed.

At this point, I raced back in the other direction to the living room perplexed because I didn't see her there either. Walking through the living room and dining area I spotted her and I immediately grew angry. She was leaning with both elbows on the kitchen counter wearing a t-shirt and one of my workshirts covering her, sleeves rolled up. As I hung up the phone, she glanced up and saw me standing there, he face giving me a guiltily perplexed look.


"I didn't hear you come in"

"I see that you're not ready for me"

"I thought you were still in traffic"

"I thought you were getting it wet for me"

I walked past her and went to the refrigerator looking for something to clear the dry from my throat. I grabbed a bottle of water and turned it up and then I turned around to focus my angry attention at her. I really wanted to read her the riot act until I saw that...

She was bare from the waist down with my favorite 'fuck me' pumps on.

I lunged at her and grabbed the shirt, intent on smothering her with a kiss but she turned away. I tried to get to her neck, I could smell her now and it made my nose flare and my hard on snap back at attention. At that point I wanted to strip, pick her up and thrust wildly inside with her on the counter, but she pushed me away with enough force to slam me into the fridge.

"No. You can't have me like this. I want you the way I want to have you, remember?"

She grabbed me and turned my back towards the counter.

"Sit down right there and don't move"

She unbuttons and removes it my shirt, my bare top half matching her bare bottom. She then pushes me onto this little stepstool we use for getting to the high cabinets. It must've stood about 2 feet off the floor. I sit there, my back against the floor cabinets looking up at her, a little confused, but very turned on. I reached for my zipper, wanting her to mount me.

"Un uh mister, keep your hands down and away from there. You can't touch me or it unless I say so."

Now I'm angry because she's right there and I'm not allowed to touch.

"What kind of shit is this..."

"Who told you to speak? You know what... I know how to shut you the hell up."

She straddles herself onto me, her legs outside of mine as I sit on the stool. She shoves me to make sure my back is up against the cabinets. Her hands reach for my chin and her hips thrust forward to where her pearl touches my nose. She exposes herself with her left hand and then she strokes herself with her right. She then grabs the back of my head and buries my face into her.

"Grab my ass and don't let go"

I follow her command. She once again leans on the counter, knees bent and both elbows down. She winds at the hips rhythmically thrusting her mound towards my face, then taking it away. I try my best to keep up with her rhythm using my tongue and lips. As I lick, suck and flick, her flavor and aroma sends a most urgent message for me to move my hips and of course, I'm as hard as a frozen neckbone. I want to be inside of her, but tasting her at this moment is a damn good alternative, and she is getting off. Her thrusts get stronger and faster, her breathing is harder and without using my hands as a guide, I find her sweet spot and isolate it with my lips, sucking firmly and flicking wildly with my tongue. After what seemed like a lost moment in time, her thighs tighten around my face and she pulls back...

"I want you to see, remember" she gasps.

And then it happened.

I am inches from her when she grabs the sides of my head and contracts every muscle. Upon her release and a loud passionate cry, I witness her squirt a very gentle, tiny but firm stream unto my neck and chest. She damn near collapses onto me, but catches herself, unstraddles me and turns to walk out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

"Leave that mess and get back here so you can come inside of me."

As I stood up a head rush came on, but I stumbled my wet, sex drunk ass back into the bedroom, where I gained control, scolding her for her naughtily new deed in the kitchen. The kitchen indeed got cleaned the next morning, and my suit went to the cleaners. I ended up taking an earlier schedule so I could get into traffic early and get home quicker so we could make more moments on the breakfast nook, getting a little breakfast nookie in the late afternoon.

That ain't brunch, is it?


2006 Hassan Nrimbanjayo

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Eleven

Okay, I made it to the exit ramp and it's been about five minutes since I lost the call. I had to find a way to both keep my cool, keep her stimulated and get to my place, which was about ten minutes away.

I wasn't good with phone sex, and that's why it took me a minute or two to call her back. I didn't want to call right back but I needed to hear her again, even if it overloaded my senses and affected my driving.

Still headspun from her horniness and still very physically excited from the phone call, I hit the dialer and heard the phone ring. I didn't know what to anticipate, but the goings on made little beads of sweat trickle down my forehead and made it difficult for me to swallow.

She picks it up but doesn't speak. I can hear her tough. Damn, she put the phone down there! As I hear as her fingers play through the moisture, I notice her moans and the temporary muffles of sound telling me that she's writhing in pleasure and the phone is an up close and personal witness of her at her most freakiest which makes me jealous because I'm not there.

"Don't go inside, just stroke kitty slowly. Save that for Daddy, I wanna come inside"

All of this moaning and audible writhing had me in a frenzy. Other than the dryness in my mouth and the extreme discomfort I was having from being erect, I noticed that I really needed to get a thrust or two in before I passed out.

It wasn't what was said that much after realizing exactly what happened when I got home. I never expected to get blessed in such a manner. Talk about squirting live and in the flesh, that evening made me want to find a job closer to home if it was going down like that after work and on the regular.


2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Brother Gerald

July 13 1966 - November 10 2006

Soulful, sensual, powerful baritone teddy bear balladeer of a black man. I emulated you many a day and was on my best romantic behavior many a night with you enhancing the mood and you always did. Whether it was performing with family or friends, your distinctive vocal stylings made the sisters shudder and the brothers wonder exactly where you and your daddy got that singing magic from. You created coultless anthems of love and was the big brother's spokesperson when Luther decided that he wanted to bless the mic in a smaller size. We never faulted you for being as large as you were, your voice and selection of material mesmerizing us each time you completed a recording. You were in effect a larger voice than the rest, we could always depend on you being consistent in cranking out yet another urban hit. I will surely miss just cooling with you, you know it's funny that you leave us so early only being a few years older than I. The private line is still open for your spirit to call us and set us ablaze with unmeasurable soul. I know heaven has just been dubbed the G-spot, a voice of my generation who spoke for the world has come home. I'll miss you G-Bear. Brother you served us with class and soul. Rest.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Ten

The story from day none will conclude after a little shoulder rehab...

Brother Ed

June 22 1941 - November 9 2006

Brother, you were the truth and I watched you uncover and investigate with professionalism my entire life. You represented us well and used your platform to let the world know where we stood in the grand scheme of things. Some that live in infamy and were newsworthy only spoke to you, and those that needed truth to be told to the masses sought your help because you were one of the most trusted and would let them testify with no bias. Brother, your style, method and truth telling via the media will sorely be missed. You also kept it very dapper on the tube as well. Rest now, brother journalist of truth. Your legacy lives, and we will carry on your work.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Nine

I was on my way home, stuck in traffic when the phone rang. I didn't want to answer it but after glancing over noticing the caller ID, I just couldn't ignore the call.

It was her, the voice over the phone was noticeably different. I started into this diatribe on traffic and how the workday just kicked my ass when she interrupted with a statement that made my foot slip off the brake pedal.

"Baby I'm stroking it. She misses you."

Now, like any brother totally thrown off of his regular routine I answered back in the most unsexiest manner:

"What you just say?"

"I'm touching it, silly. I was thinking about you and... Shit, I gotta squirt. Don't want you to watch?"

Now the moment I hear this, adrenaline shoots down to my baby toe causing me to accelerate a little too much for the speed of traffic. For about a split second I totally forgot where I was because of the instant need to reach down and re-adjust what was going on in my boxers.

The mere mention of babygirl squirting totally took me off my square. I now see pockets of space that I can maneuver the ride to make the trip home that much faster.

"Can you make it here before I come?"

Her breathing gets heavier.

"Oooh I want you to see. You know you wanna taste..."

Now I'm trying to keep my calm and get to an exit ramp about a quarter mile in front me when...


The call drops.


Now after assaulting the steering wheel out of frustration I look up and see myself in the rear-view mirror.

I see the hunger, I remember how she tastes...

Damn, I gotta get there.



2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo


I'll finish this later...



Cookie I miss you so much. I hope they throw birthday parties in heaven. It's ain' t the same anymore...

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Eight

Stayed up until 5am watching our election debacle. I am embarrassed.

We have a serious racial situation going on here in Chicago, and a candidate who lost last night stormed election headquarters with most of his supporters and got into it with election officials and the dudes bringing in the ballots claiming that the election was being fixed.

This drama carried on until damn near 5am. This cat is claiming conspiracy and his followers got into fights and damn near compromised boxes of tabulated votes at our city hall because he thought that the burbs votes (read rich white folks) were purposely not being counted.

Now dude is white and stood an outside shot of beating the brother who ran against him. The campaign was nasty and racially motivated since the March primaries. Oh, did I mention that the brother that was running for the seat his daddy had to relinquish because of a complications of a stroke?

This position is a powerful one, It's for county board president. Cook County, which is the 2nd largest county in the US encompasses all of Chicago and about another 20-30 square miles of land outside the city. The position is a mirror image of our mayor's spot. A few people are taking exception to a 42 year old, hip hop listening to, educated son of the current president pining for daddy's spot.

Enough of this nonsense.

And the mad republican cat didn't even have enough votes to win the damn election. He just wanted to not concede and act a friggin fool.

Mission accomplished, GOP.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Seven

It was one of those days that runs into the evening without you even knowing it. You know, gloomy and cloudy and all over when you wake up and then it's time to go to bed. I was still in the office doing heaven knows what when she walked in...

I was dumbstruck like I was was six seconds from getting hit by the family station wagon in the middle of the forest preserve. Before I could even form thought and as she closed the door to my dingy workspace I could smell her.

Damn. Egyptian Musk.

My head swirled in drunkedness as I watched her silhouette come out of the shadows and make its sexy way to my desk. She was tall or was it the shoes? It didn't matter, those legs of hers rose from the floor and made an ass out of themselves. She was a brown coke bottle wrapped in a dull grey trenchcoat. I betcha that was a sweet drink to savor that required an crazy straw. She wore her fedora like a man with that cock to the side, but the long brown locks that draped ever so lovely from the rear assured me that the curvature wasn't lying to my eyes. She had lips that made a man wish there was kissing school because she would be the headmaster and I would need remedial training on purpose. You could see the age in her eyes, but her skin told you something different. She was old school refined but looked like one of the leaders of the new school in her packaging. I was just a busta, my back in the day to hers being an old head masquerading in a young girl's frame. When she stepped out of the shadows she froze me even more. Those brown eyes... The staring pain from the eyes of a little girl who's cat was stuck in a tree, begging you to get em' out as you were running late to your own wedding. I couldn't help but to listen to whatever her problem was. I am a groove theorist and even though I was an artifact these days it was still my job to come on with the come on, get down with the get down.

She sat down and lit a cigarette. I got bold and actually parted my lips to form a question. "What brings you to the south side?" I asked. "Music." She says. "I'm looking for the perfect beat". I looked her in the eye and told her "Look toots, the only thing you'll get over in these here parts is a few samples and the occasional young buck living off the nineties. The new stuff doesn't rock. It's full of a lot of crunk and disorderly joints that'll make you run over to EJ Flavors to get the taste outta your mouth. Is that what you want?" "No" she says, "I'm looking for a DJ. You know sound bwoy, I need to get a hold of the chief selector." I nodded. Before I could respond she blew her cigarette smoke in my face but I played it cool. I didn't know if this beautiful creature was playing with my emotions or just plain old playful.

"A DJ you say? You know I used to spin the hot platters baby, it was a treacherous and naughty thing how I'm old school I am in nature. Yeah, I can put it down to the kids like I'm capri, but it's going to feel like an old house party in 89' and not the def jam... And my name ain't Bilal. So that's what you're asking for?" She smiles and nods and she uses those sexy lips of hers to take another drag on that cigarette.

Not in a million years did I ever want to be a tobacco product, but in this moment I couldn't b-real. I thought of my old friend Krsna, him telling my of a dream he had of being smoked and passed around. I felt as if I were in his tale and not the one I'm telling you. Yep, I was getting smoked by this curvy broad and I can't wake up. I didn't want to even though I knew I was headed for trouble. Damn, I wanted to make her mine.

I watched those lips weave wonderful words about contracts, times and dates while I just sat there and nodded. I haven't had a job spinning since Tribe was waxing poetically with Jarobi bout' the booty, and this was my chance to pay a few bills. I did have a question for the lady and I didn't hesitate to open my mouth, seeing as she came in my office asking for my services. This was a very peculiar thing.

"Look here lady, I need to know what brought you to my digs asking for disk jockeys and such, as you can see from the luxurious decor, business is really picking up..." She interrupted. "Dusty grooves, man." I remember grooving to you back in the day when Jeru, Blahzay and the east was in the house. Oh my God, danger! You were kicking out the hot ish. You made them Pete Rock joints feel like warm bathing water on a crisp fall day. I've never been that wet on the dance floor, with the exception of the reception."

"And how's that working out? Does he know you're in a strange old man's office speaking about getting wet to an old record?"

"He is a thing of the past. Couldn't hang with me on the dance floor"

"Couldn't dance, huh? You know I got a mean foxtrot"

"He couldn't even salsa, mambo or meringue, and couldn't last a mere than 3 records"

"So you've been dancing alone?"

"I haven't even stepped to a James Brown record since those hot Tuesday nights with my girls..."

"At the Rivera" I said.

"Yes, the Riv, remember that?"

"Woman, I was Tuesday nights up in that old juke joint. I made the bodies wind and the heads nod..."

"And that's what I'm asking for. I want you to have this."

She throws a flyer that has to be at least ten years old on my desk and sits back into the shadows. I already knew what it said. It had an older, skinnier picture of me on the front and a coffee stain on the upper right corner. It also had a phone number on the flipside.

As she rises from the chair in front of my desk, I get one last chance to check out her form. If she's at least as old as I am, I was wondering what formula she was taking to keep in perfect form. As she approaches the door she says: "When you get over the fact that you haven't rocked a party quite like the ones I used to throw and you know that you want to be in the house spinning at my next one, use that number. I'll answer if you call."

"You're going to call, right?"


Yeah, right after I vote. Please make your voice heard. If the polls are open in your neck of the woods, then do the right thing and speak. This way you have the right to bitch and complain about the system...

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Six

I would normally have more to offer, but I'm seeing my legal team today. That means an afternoon blog.

I'll be back later...

Thanks for the kudos from Saturday's post. I really put myself out there and don't know how to feel right now. And to think that she'll never read it...

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Five

I was supposed to blog about something, but I am a victim of NFL Sunday Ticket.

Lord, guide my hands to actually blog about something worthwhile tomorrow.
Protect my family and friends on this beautiful day.
Make peace in all of the unsettled land now that Saddam has been sentenced, and have mercy on his soul.
Keep our troops out of harms way.
I thank you for all of my gifts, and most importantly for the gift of life.

And make sure the Bears smash the Dolphins
Vick runs all over the Lions in Detroit
And that Reggie Bush and Deuce get at least 125 yards rushing apiece
And bless Bill Parcells for Starting Tony Romo against the Redskins

Did I mention that you should bless the Bears to go 8-0?

Oh, okay...

Amen.

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Four

Songbird,

It's been a while since we've talked, and so much has changed since our last encounter. Yes, I'm still that black power cat attempting to spit heat to the receptive, but there's so much more to me since our split that you don't see at the coffee houses on the bully. I realized that in changing my name, enhancing my diet and removing myself from the matrix I have effectively erased the boy that you spent so much time with from the books and replaced him with this man punching away at this keyboard.

In my interactions with you, I became a man.

I remember days when we sat around and just lounged in the bed, talking about successes and reminding ourselves on actions that lead to failure. I remember debates that we had on what the world would look like in ten years and how we would change it. I remember telling you about the books I would write and you telling me about the songs that the world would fall in love with because of your voice and how you wrote it. Those conversations still go on in my head. It is now my fodder to write.

I remember the time where you stood in my bathroom in just your skin. I walked up behind you and gave you this embrace just as naked as you, the surface of your skin cold from being exposed. This was the first time we revealed ourselves to each other, and it was not a flattering moment. As we hugged I felt the tension in your shoulders release and you immediately grew warm at that moment. We must've stood there for about an hour. It was then that I realized that I wasn't getting any and I still appreciate you for that. The embrace let me know that I had the patience and understanding that there was so much more to exploring you than just sex. And plus, I wasn't ready for you on that day. I would have lost control and changed how you thought of me on so many levels.

The look on your face never wavered when we traveled. We went everywhere together but it wasn't always gravy. I remember riding the train with you on New Years Eve back to your mother's. Remember the party that exploded out of nowhere when the train lights went out? I also remember that new years where I was beside myself and abusive over such a simple thing as a coat. I don't know what got into me to have disrespected you on such a level, it makes me wish that one really could turn back the hands of time. That is the absolute one thing I wish I could take back in my life. I resent my actions and it destroyed me inside for a long time not being able to apologize because of pride and then distance created when life cut me off from you after I learned how to swallow it. That moment replays in my mind to the point where the pain will never go away. It is a permanent stain, a bookmark if you will in the book of the story of how I got to where I am now. I will never forget my actions and I've amended myself to the point where I will not even think of having conflict with anyone, nonetheless a member of the opposite sex for anything. These days I refuse to fight unless I have to defend the life of my beloved, those being family members or a close friend. I look at argument and debate in a whole other light. As someone who has been trained in taking lives and in being a person responsible for actions that took lives while in the military, also as a young man unable to control his emotions in his youth and immaturity at that time, I came to realize the danger a lot of folk were put in back in the day by my actions. Just know that I have asked for forgiveness for all of the things I have done to put both you and others in harms way. You should have never been a target of me being angry due to my resentment of self at times when I felt that I failed. Years later and with time passed I want you to know that I am refined in my ideas, beliefs and ideals, and anger, resentment and violence both verbally and non has been replaced with accepting responsibility for my words and actions, calm contemplation of situations and thorough discussion in me being older and knowing the consequences and repercussions of my actions.

I also remember you checking me out a few times as we rode in our car. Woman, I was always checking on you. I couldn't believe that you chose me and wanted to be right by my side. I was flattered and impressed. I was also infatuated with you in the physical as well as the mental. You stimulated me on so many frequencies and modulations. I remember seeing fatigue in your face when we were walking a little too much hanging out with dude and sistergirl, but you always had confidence in me and let me lead, even when I was wrong. You also corrected me on so many occasions and I appreciate you for putting my ass in check.

I remember seeing you right by my mother's side at the airport when I was all military and in the hospital when I almost died. Even though y'all didn't recognize me and walked right pass me when I came home from training, I reveled into he fact that the two of you gelled and agreed on so many things. She wanted you to birth her grandbabies.

We argued about God, his existence and how we were going to get saved. We made each other laugh and always comforted one another when things got rough. Even though we never talked about 'that', I know that it bothered you and I wanted to do something about it.
I hope 'that's' been taken care of.

I'm just saying that in the time I spent with you I grew into what I wanted to become. I became more sensitive to the needs of others and now serve so many. It hurts that I cannot be of service to you. You taught me how to give and be unselfish, broke down the subtle art of self sacrifice and made sure I understood how to stand my ground. You expressed unconditional love, and I received it and overstood. I became complete in my manifestation of the literal, physical and spiritual in the times that we shared.

In a sense, I never got over you.

Of course, I move forward, time moving torwards seven years since we shared space. I have seen other people of course and have been thru the ringer a few times. One thing I know. It must be some sort of seven year itch I'm experiencing to want to go thru what I went thru when I was with you. Even though things went sour near the end and we agreed to disagree, I know that I am worthy of being a husband, father and a damn reliable ass best friend because you taught me how to be.

I don't think that we could ever share space again, but I know now that a boy will never be a man if he has never had love, respect and confidence from a woman like I had from you. We planted a seed and it grew into who I am now, ready to be released into the wild with the purpose of harvesting a strong, noble family ready to take on the world and make the change we used to laugh about back in the day, thinking someone else would probably beat us to doing it.

Thank you for shaping me and making me who I am. I already know the Creator has a masterplan for you in due time, a season. Your voice is being heard in places you'll never know. Well, I do hope that you take the time to find out.


Peace, blessings and thank you...


Gretel's Brother

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Three

I haven't been to sleep.

I have composed some dope ish during my non-slumber period.

And cleaned my room.

I came in after the set last night (it was cool if you wanna know) and popped in a DVD of "stuff" I get from time to time when I do these things and guess what? A bootlegged file of 'Th.e Dep.art.ed" was on there. I already paid my $10 to see it opening weekend, but I totally forgot how Scorsese draws you in and keeps you there.


I've been creating though...
check the abstract:

Live from the live, I function properly don't need permission
Body achieves positive nitrogen balance - ammunition

Speech pays tuition - intuition particles that bring light
creates a pattern complex molecules that shape my speech fight

My speak complexes matters grafted from the far who are near
Staccato phrasing talk of triumph that they can't stand to hear

The battle cry shoots from my eyes with every glance, every stare
Reflect refraction resurrect repeat from when I was there

I watched me fall I saw me build but yet I could not get up
Wrung all my blood out from my rotted flesh and drank from your cup

or my current ode to my hip hop mistress:

The boom, the bip The boom bip
The cymbal, the hi-hat, and then the snare kicks
The multidimensional effect of the scratch
The power of the word, ideas that they hatch
The funk loop sample that's repeatin'' in my head
Influences the head nod, but I'm frowning instead.
The complex funk pumped by the drum machine
Causes the screwed up faces, the look of a fiend
That lives in the grooves of the platter that be spinnin''
I am its living history was there from the beginning.
We're living in a world where the word is the word
The literal is spiritual, so funk what you heard
We cry out to the universe to let em' know we're here
We share personal triumphs, our heartaches, our fears
We drop commentaries political in nature
We get braggadocious, we're lovers-we're haters
See certain words and phrases that stand out in your mind
It elevates your thought process and transcends time
The thump of that bass drum, the snare and the hats
Be sparking incantation from the rage of the raps
The trans-like state caused from booming out your speakers
Gets stronger over time, the groove can never grow weaker...

Maybe I need sleep... Maybe I need to get some. Maybe I need to get an advance... Nah...
I'm sleepy y'all and ain't scheduled to hit the hay until Sunday night. Gotta fellowship, shake hands with some new peeps and record a few songs.

Have a good weekend yourdamnseves...

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day Two

I am in love with hip hop.

I really am.

In writing for the current album project I was craving some 1993-94 type drum patterns straight and low and behold...I found this young cat in Jersey that's hungry and damn... I actually think we can get national exposure now that he's in the fold.

You ever want a burger? Even though you no longer eat red meat?
Interesting.

Okay. I've made my decision. I made plans last year to go to an island for Thanksgiving and then changed plans for the her that I had interest in. That didn't work out due to internal issues, but this year I want to actually be someplace other than Chicago for thanksgiving.

That's right. I wanna sit at YOUR table and laugh at your funny ass uncle that thinks seersucker suits are still cool. Can I come to your house for turkey day? I'll pay for the plane ticket if you like...

he must be joking, right?

I hate this time between Halloween and Thanksgiving. All of that hideous candy is on sale and I gotta get ready to eat something that ain't from a pig, cow or foul so I won't offend. I miss the days of genuine family gatherings and real great times. These days, families do this zombified programmed thing and just go thru the motions in the spirit of what we attempt to call thanks giving. For black folks, that ish is really wearing off because we were less than pond scum in the eyes of the looters and thieves that created the holiday. To try to carry that lie forward just ain't working, so we used to get together and do the family thing, but so many homes are broken...

So much food, so many homeless...

About that cheeseburger... What would I have on it and will I get sick if I eat it?

Damn, this is only day two of the 'blogging for the month' thing... I have got to think of better things to blog about. Maybe because I never plan these things...

I wrote my first firery hardcore revolutionary piece that goes perfectly hard rock guitars.
I miss my yogi.
I miss Yo MTV Raps
I gotta bump Digable Planets' Blow Out Comb right now because I need that vibe in my life right now.
I miss Uptown Comedy Club

What am I blogging about?

I hope all my kinfolk show tonight to support my fam's promo concert. It should be a good night... I know it'll be a long ass night. As much as I love a good show, I'm getting old and I will fall asleep backstage.

Why did I have to hang up on an ex yesterday? She's in school but wants to go to a diploma mill to get certified in a skill that'll make her more money now. While she's in school. What ever happened to the big picture? She wants material things now and needs money to 'pay for school', Isn't that what student loans are for? She already has a good job, but wants a higher paying job while she's already gainin what she'll need to get paper in the near future. You follow me? Isn't that what she's there for now? So I told her that she should stick with her original plan, complete her degree and work torwards the big picture. I don't understand why so many people can't see past wanting to get stuck in a skilled labor position that'll get you no further than where you already are especially when you're already earning a degree that'll get you farther. So she snaps at me and begins to cuss me because "I got my shit together. "

"We all can't be like you, as a matter of fact, fuck you with your got it together ass! We cant all just go out there and get what we want like you're doing because we're not like you..."

click

Why I bothered to pick up the phone I still wonder. Closed minds get no peace.

And she wonders why she's an ex?

30 Days... 30 Posts: Day One

Inspired by Princess Dominique to post every day this month, I post in the late afternoon... On purpose.

Just got home from the volunteer gig. If you don't know what I do when I'm not writing or recording, I spend 6-8 hours a day hanging out, playing board games, watching a hella lot of PBS-style programs just kicking it at the University children's hospital. I didn't know I had a thing for the shawties, and these aren't your average kids wreaking havoc among the living. Most of these tykes are uber intelligent and know what condition the world and society as a whole is in, not just themselves.

It's not as tiring as I thought it would be, except for when I get home and just pass out.

I'm taking public transportation to and fro the hospital. It's also where I'm getting my workups done for the kidney thing so I'm there a lot. Let's just say I am not fond of high school aged kids that are not under adult supervision.

Left the hospital early today because the flu-like symptoms I had this past weekend are messing with my ass.

I got bad gas today... Weird.

Why when I got in and started up Google did I click on a sister from my past's Google talk bubble and input "why must I avoid people?"

Why was her username still in my chat list?

Why did I panic when I got a response from the her and saw her username?

Why am I embarrassed by doing that? Time to clean stuff out so awkward moments like that don't happen again.

I have to return phone calls. Most of the time when I do field phone calls I'm at home. I do carry a man-sack ala Dwayne Wayne when I travel and with the bad shoulder and taking busses and trains to and fro in the city during the work week I have no time nor strength to yap away during the commute. Who in the hell are folks talking to anyway? I can see yapping about the occasional grocery list and what to get from Blockbuster, but why is it when I ride the commuter train do I have the hear all of the intimate details of last night's tryst all out in the open? Why you gotta yell like that? Can you really hear the other person over the noise of the engines and passenger chatter? Can you please get an earpiece, you're hurting my arm holding that tic-tac to your head!

I haven't been able to chat to my peeps the way I wanted to in the past few days. I had obligations to hit no less than 5 parties last night and I was in the house at all of them shaking hands and kissing babies... And vampires, and playboy bunnies.

You get the drift.

In doing all of that I have folks calling me that now that weren't calling me then and prolly don't understand (even though I am an artist and I try to communicate this to everyone) why I can't just pick up the phone and chill for the next whatever and just chop game. In promotion of myself and others



(Had to... Shameless plug I know, but that's my family!)

I have to do the damn dance because I write my own paychecks now and that shit is hard. It's bad enough when I call for revolution the only person who hears me lives waaaaay the hell out there, but I love her anyway. For the most part, I go unheard unless there is free liquor served at one of my functions, so chilling at the rest laid up on the telly is a rare option I have.

Unless there's a little time to waste.

Lately that's been rare.