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Collision [Tears are]

Hey. I've been toiling away at this dream of a book, trying to make it a reality and forgetting my first baby. YOU. So I'm checking in because believe me, it may not seem like it, but this shit is theraputic as a motherfucker. Where do I begin? Well, I guess I should start with [past] me. I was ready to let her in. However, she had other plans. I foolishly bought her that gift and told her how I felt and she kindly brushed me off. Stopped talking to me. Started dating a model/bodybuilder. Stop me if you've heard this one. Oh...you have. "The Shape of Things To Come" (read back) except... I totally misunderstood. They aren't engaged. She's pregnant.
I hurt a girl I was "dating." She loves me and I don't even really love myself, let alone her- so she gets shelved like the rest of them. She says the walls I built to protect myself will become my prison. Is she right? There is another girl... I have absolutely nothing in common with, our time together doesn't stand out, it's kinda limp...but she's annoyingly cheery like Kandice was. So, I psuedo-like her.
And I was NOT supposed to re-visit there.

My friend is newfound homeless. He needs the money I've been saving more than I do. Merry Christmas. I have a good job. Oh yeah, I quit that like a raging lunatic today.
Isn't that funny?

I hate it when my "cup runneth over" because then I experience the natural range of human emotion, I'm no longer in complete control of what I say or do, and then, I'm capable of 'falling down' if pushed; just like the rest of you. Dealing with being on probation, stuck in a city where everything/one is so...different and unforgiving, I finally snapped, and got into a fight.

And it feels like everything is spinning out of control. I'm unmotivated, and a little lost. I want a married woman, I can't figure out what I'm doing in my classes, and I'm losing grip on what I once considered priority. I'm lying about all the time, under the guise of working. It's almost like now I'm literally living in between dreams.

I doubt the guy will press charges, but that's not the point. The point is I shouldn't be fighting. Nobody should unless you absolutely have to, or you get paid for it. Especially over something as idiotic as pride.
And that's what this was all about. Pride. This guy was making fun of my drunk friend and the teasing turned to bullying and a warning turned into me punching the guy in the face. I should've walked away.

I need to exhale.

"Tears are often the telescope by which men see far into heaven."
-Henry Ward Beecher

Par Avion

So if you watched my video, 'The issue with Miss A' then you know there was a girl who asked me to stop contacting her, which I explained was nothing more than ridiculous drunk dials. I promptly removed her number from my phone to prevent THAT from happening. Cold hearted Tony is real ladies and gentlemen and he don't give a fuck.
So I went about on my business, never responded and blah blah. Tweetin and living.

Today I got another letter from her. Among the letter, was some shit I left in her care, school statements, pictures, a key and finally THE 'Thank You' card. Which 'Thank You' card, you ask?

THIS one. (Yes another re-post. SHAMELESS!)


Episode 41: The one with the "Thank You" card.

I may be an asshole, I may be a jerk or asinine at times; I may even be quite ignorant, wait I can go all day with this- The point is I may be a bunch of things, but you can't say that I don't try to be better at first. The ironic thing however, is that often, I can do rather mean/ignorant/brash things in the quest for the action. Case in point, the other week I was discussing with my co-workers about gratitude and appreciation. Somehow, sex entered the discussion and I shared with them a story of an event that took place in February. (You guys would've heard it, but I felt that whatever episode I ended up writing was a lot more interesting. Anyway, here it is. Now, the purpose of me posting an event that happened in Feb. Is because my co-workers and I got into it over was I wrong/right/stupid. I think I was doing something to show APPRECIATION.
Remember that.

One night in Feb, I'm on the phone with Moreno discussing how fine Hoopz from 'Flavor of Love' was. My other line beeps and it's a blast from the past, Roxanne. Now, she was going through a bit of a spat with her boyfriend and although she didn't want to admit it, she wanted a temporary fix. So I pick up and she wants to know if I'd like to come over for some lasagna; since she cooked extra. I live 13 mikes from her, haven't spoke to her in four months...yeah, "she cooked extra", alright. Now, I love Dandu to death, but in the choice between idle conversation and sex- ahem excuse me "lasagna" he loses. So, I hop in the bucket, my ride at the time, and make it to her place where needless to say I did the deed, and had disappointingly had no lasagna. The next day, I was in CVS with my cousin for he was looking for a Valentine's Day card for his girlfriend. I leafed through the different Hallmark "Get Well"s and "Happy Birthday"s until I stumbled across one in particular that read,
"You're AWESOME!!! Thanks for everything!" Now, I personally thought that was sweet in it's own little way especially with the added flair of "especially last night!" that I decided to add in pen under the quote. Throw in my sinlessly amazing smile, and I had to be gold. Hell, maybe a strong candidate for an encore.

I could not BE more wrong.

She opened the card with a playful smile on her face, that slowly vanished upon reading the message. And like a dork, I sat there with this big shit-eating grin...expecting a warm embrace. I instead got a cold shoulder, cold lasagna and a pillow for the couch.

Now, I ask you: Was I wrong?, or was she simply ungrateful?

-------------------
So now, I'm sad because I'm not sure if I should be hurt, or happy because I have a slice of awesomeness from my life back.

Tony

Just another old blog I'm going to re-post. Because I freaking love this speech. I often read it in the morning to remind myself of how life is filled with everything imaginable.


Episode 87: Advice, like youth... is probably wasted on the young

This speech, which I first mentioned in Episode 67... is probably one of the things I refer to when trying to navigate this life. Maybe you'll get something from it... maybe ya won't. If you want it for yourself, it's sold on iTunes...under this name "Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen)" but the artist is listed as "Sun Tan" like I said earlier, the original author is a journalist for the Chicago Tribune named Mary Schmich. She described this as the graduation speech she'd give if ever asked. It also is now a book. Without further delay...



Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '99:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now, how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. ...
You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind sides you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.



--- and btw, yes this was parodied by Chris Rock... in "No Sex (In the Champagne Room)

The Hunting Party

Tonight I was out with a friend, and on my way back in to the house a squirrel jumped from the hedges in my front and latched onto my leg, ran down and took off into the next yard. This not only startled me a bit, but it reminded me of this little incident, which is a Vid favorite...


Episode 6: The One Where I Almost Lost My Dick (August 09, 2005)

"Certainly there are things in life that money can't buy... but it's very funny- Did you ever try to buy anything without money?" -Ogden Nash

Big fat shout out to the coolest bartender at Dave and Buster's in Rockville, MD!! Her name is Jadah and she hooks a brotha up. Next time you're there give her a holla and tip well!

My boy Brandon (B-Dubs!!) calls me up Sunday and he's like he wants to go grab a bite and chill. So I say, "Aight, Let's go the Buster's." Because anyone that knows me well, knows that I'm saving my points to win a flat screen TV from there. So we go grab our other partner, Kevin (Kem [pronounced KAY-UMM for all you non-ebonic readers]) So we get there, and on the way, B brings up this ex of mine that he really admired and I told him about how I heard she moved to GA, and was engaged and had a kid. I immediately felt blah and I decided not to play games, but rather hit the bar. Where Jadah kept the screwdrivers coming while I watched SportsCenter. So, I was little tipsy when B-dubs and Kem came from the game room and after laughing over the fact that Kem almost got pressed by this gorilla looking security guy we left the bar area. B and I were still laughin at the fact that the security guy was so huge that when he came to the bar, his knuckles rested on the bar and he just mean mugged Kem. Leaving the bar area, I didn't notice Kem had stopped to tie his shoe and coincidentally there was a older larger white woman walking where Kem should've been. So my slightly drunk ass, turns and in horror says, "Kem? Oh my GOD! Kem!" B catches the entire thing and laughter ensues. I'm sittin on the curb in tears at my stupidity. We're laughing so hard.
We're driving down the street and this car full of girls pulls up and looks at us. It seemed as though they were talking about us in their car, so Kem and I rolled down the windows to try to talk to them. Before I can say any FUCKING thing, Kem hollers out, "Hey girl, can you sit on my face?" and slumps his body in the backseat. So now I'm sitting there and it appears like I said that dumb shit and B is tryin his best to pretend he's on the phone and not apart of the whole scenario. That girl was so disgusted and all I could do was laugh, solidifying the assumption if I said that or not.
We get to Kem's house and we're headed to his room to watch some TV, so I need to pee, because of all the alcohol I just drank and what not. I go into Kem's bathroom and the lid is already lifted. I pull my meat out, and I notice a tube or something hanging out from behind the lid, and I stared at it for like a minute before realizing that Kem's toilet was broken and maybe that was the flushing mechanism hanging down. (When you drink... your common sense, judgement, and reaction are effected before ANYTHING else.) So, like 30 seconds later, I realize that
1) The flushing mechanism wouldn't be hanging out from the toilet and definitely not behind the lid.
2) The "tube" or whatever it was, was moving.
So, I (still peeing mind you) decide to look on the other side of the tube, behind the lid and see what it was.

IT WAS A FUCKING POSSUM.

That sonbitch jumped out from behind the lifted lid onto me, and I'm scared shitless, pissin all over the place he rolls off of me down my chest on my dick (Lord, have mercy... my genitals) and hits the floor. I'm still in shock that damn wildlfe is in this kid's bathroom. I run Mach 5 speed out that damn bathroom out the house into the street... dick still swingin. B and Kem are lookin at each other vowing to never let me and alcohol get together again. I tell them the story they don't believe me. All of a sudden we hear the squeals from the bathroom. So after arguing like three girls we decide to go investigate. Yep. Big ass possum behind the toilet. Kem left his damn bathroom window open all day. We all took turns deciding what to do. I offered to burn the house down, I mean, I figure those things carry deadly germs like rabies! But eventually the liquor and shock wore off, and I ended up going in, B behind me with a mallot. It took us 20 minutes to inch our cowardly ass into the five foot long bathroom and we finally mustered the courage to approach the animal. I used three pairs of Kem's socks as gloves and we rushed in grabbed the possum and tossed him back out the window.

From now on, I investigate all areas before pulling my dick out.

Three Minutes [Goes Unpunished]

So this story starts a while back. I'm not particularly sure exactly when... but I believe it was sometime in November last year. I decided to tag along again in one of those weird trips with my friend David, to go see his girlfriend Dominique in Hampton, Virginia where she attends school. Now, the reason I would go on these trips was because I had prior lived Hampton only a couple years before, and I still knew a great deal of people in the area. Especially my friend Vid. David and I are pretty close, so when we would make these trips, it would be in his car which I had a spare key to, and I would roam around catching up with folk and the whole lot while he would lay about cheesingly/romantically with his woman.
I had decided to take a trip to a club on the Newport News/Hampton line called "The Alley". Now, maybe I had way too many of those Hurricanes...(because that's the best drink they can make) and maybe I started the night with that double Three Wisemen. Maybe a random group of girls and I had a couple "Scooby Snacks" but...somehow I walked out of that club, with a girl, and walked over to the McDonald's across the street. When I got back to the car though... I could NOT find the car keys.

The girl had already left and the club was clearing out. I walked back in the club and backtracked my route to the Mickey D's. TWICE. I had been aimlessly drifting along West Mercury Blvd. debating whether to call Dave just for him to run the news past his girl and hear her trap- when this car pulls up and inside is this odd couple (male/ugly woman) who sees me shivering in the cold. They offer me a ride wherever I have to go. Now, I'm hammered and a tad nippy so I roll my eyes skyward and decline. They drive alongside me asking why I'm walking alone down this dark road and blah blah. I decide to tell them that I'm walking to my friend's house because my cop friend locked himself out his car. We're waiting for another cop with a slim jim. They suddenly pull over and tell me I can wait in the car while I'm waiting...or they can give me a ride back to the car with my friend. I say that's fine. I can walk back alone. But I will wait... in the car. (I had already called a tow truck for lockout assistance before they pulled up)
The girl surpisingly sounds mannish and they wanna know how old am I, what's my friend's name, am I from around there and blah blah. After a good three minutes of answering ridiculous semi-weird-stalkerish questions. I got freaked out because it suddenly hit me that I was about to get gang raped. So I jumped out the car and ran like the devil was chasing me. (An hour later, I discovered the key was in my fifth pocket. Damn you, jeans)

Fast forward to four hours ago. I'm in the CVS buying candy and Hot Pockets when there's a strange amalgam of a human being hovering behind me. The self-checkout machine is taking FOREVER. Then another guy comes up and he's like, "OMG! It's YOU! Did Dave ever find those keys? Where did you run to?" I'm like, "Huh?"
"What are you doing in DC?"
"Huh? I'm sorry-" then it hits me, who they are.

And I drop the candy and Hot Pocket and run home.

"A good deed never goes unpunished." -Gore Vidal

The Shape of Things to Come [Moment of Vanity]

I was talking to my "girlfriend" the other day when it occurred to me that I'm an unwilling participant in some random (well, to me) eccentricities. One of them is, I lately have been championing women's rights. (Yeah, I know right?) The second is something I thought was just a strange coincidence or just a glitch in the Matrix when I noticed it a while ago, (see: MySpace blog, "The Curse") but as of this morning I have no other choice but to acknowledge it now.
Whenever I get involved with a girl, and it gets semi-serious on my end; when we break up, the NEXT person they get involved with, they will
1) Have a child with him.
2) Marry him.
3) Move in with him.
4) Have the greatest Earth-shattering sex they've ever had. (LOL...That only happened once.)

This is the truth. Seriously.
There was "The Constant" and then there was "Miss America" let's not forget Renee, Kyra, Christine, Michelle and Tori. I guess you can add Sarah and Denisha too. It's almost like there could be no worse than me so you had HAD to make that jump immediately after me. LOL. Now I'm not really complaining, nor am I asking to find the love of my life, despite what you decipher my Facebook status/tweets to be.
Until today.

Let me provide you with backstory.
There was a girl I was friends with, we got close...talked everyday. I fell for her. Told her how I felt on Valentine's Day, and she just said..."oh." then proceeded to fall off. No more calls. I backed off abruptly. 'nuff said.
I have a friend that moved far away from here, coincidentally to the area she lives in. I decided to get them together so he can have friends. He hung out, met her new live-in boyfriend... and then got hit on by that same boyfriend. Hit on... hardcore. felt up even. They then proceeded to go out, only for situations such as her going to grab drinks while he slyly felt up my friend's ass. Scary world but things like that happen. My friend didn't wanna tell the girl. I didn't wanna tell the girl... but now, I wake up to see her tell the world on MySpace...that she's marrying this same guy. THIS guy.

Backstory over.
So I'm stuck between, should I or shouldn't I? I'm stuck in a zone of, am I hater, a hopeless romantic, or a good friend?
And I can't help but notice these women that have left me to go off to greener pastures have slightly jaded (or re-jaded for the faithful) me. Sure I'm a free spirit... I'm the stereotypical male, and anyone will tell you I'm a wee bit past cold hearted, but even concrete bears scars. Scars that instead of crumble the wall, they simply make the walls stronger and impervious to further damage. I'm talkin' battle tested. Simultaneously though, I'm learning and living. I'm learning about what kind of women I've been involved with and what kind of guy I'm turning into....I'm turning back into what I tried so hard to change from. For lack of a better terminology: a drinking, shitting, fucking, shell of a human being. I'm not ashamed to go back to either. Is this the effects of "The Constant" wearing off? Where once I used women, now I'm being used...for whatever they're getting from me.

I keep the "girlfriend" at a distance... it's not her fault, but that's the breaks.

So what should I do? Should I tell her? Chances are I will NOT.
And what is to come? Is history going to repeat itself, and I go back to a life of hedonism? Or will I standby for whatever comes walking past? Who knows... maybe she came, or there she goes.

"Sometimes when you look back on a situation, you realize it wasn't all you thought it was. A beautiful girl walked into your life. You fell in love. ...or did you? Maybe it was only a childish infatuation, or maybe just a brief moment of vanity"
-Henry Bromel 'Northern Exposure' (Season 2: The Big Kiss)

"?"

People really confuse me sometimes. Like really confuse me.

One woman I know... let a man tear her all the way down. He trashed her self-worth, he risked her health, and shat on her goals. And instead of removing the element of destruction from her life she continues to hold onto him because it's what she wants.

Then there's another woman I know, who preaches one thing and lives another when it comes to her dead-end boyfriend. She's just drifting along... as if time was on her side. She has no plans to marry him at all but...

In both those situations I always hear the word 'Love' thrown about... and I'm not sure if they're wrong, or maybe my interpretation of love is jacked. I mean the way I always figured it... if I loved someone else- I'd first have to clearly love myself. And how can I love myself if I let someone else walk all over me or put me down... or waste my time?
When I was involved with 'The Constant', one of the biggest issues was the fact that was wrestling with loving myself. I wanted to love her badly but I wasn't sure what love was, nor was I sure I really enjoyed myself. So I never really wanted to get her too involved, because how could I hand out something I can't even give myself?
Does this make any freaking sense?
Actually, there was another girl I was involved with- who had a lot in common with me, joy of books, free spirit, and an undying sexual appetite. And as she sat in her garage that morning waiting with me for my cab... the inevitable question, "Where is 'this' going?" ...and all I could think was... "Please don't fall for me. Please don't fall for me. I'm going to break your heart. I don't want to but I will. I've played this scenario over, and over again. I don't love myself. I'm not cliche... but it's not you. It's ME. ME. Please don't fall for me." What came out was...

"We're just kicking it"
Of course that was the last time I had sex with her. (In a long time. But that's another story... or one I already told)

Maybe these women fully understand the concept of love perfectly... and it's me that has it all twisted.

There's a guy I know who put his needs on the back burner several times to fulfill his girlfriends wants. When I pointed this out to him, he said because that's what you do when you're in 'Love'.

Sometimes I think people are SO eager to fall in love, that they fall in love with the concept, use all the rules that apply for love in this strange little whatever they've built.

The way I see it, I would like to love myself one day the way I see women 'love' their men. I would like to go into a depression when I tell myself a lie. I'd like to get upset, when I disappoint me. I want to argue with me when I cheat on me with another loser who I jumped on because she stumbled out of the bar with me.

Silly, right?

"If love is the answer, could you rephrase the question?" -Lily Tomlin

The issue with "Miss America"...

[Jane Doe] is Dead

A good friend invited me to a conversation over who was the better cheater. Men or Women. Now, usually I avoid conversations like these- where I have to decide who's better a gender. The world is more complicated, and versatile than one or the other when it comes to human characteristics. If I do participate, I usually play the devils' advocate to make people realize the weakness of the argument. Today, however... I'm feeling randy, and I think I should rape this one wide open.

Here goes:

Most people like to assume that women are better cheaters due to the way society works and the attention of most mainstream media. "Men are dogs" is indirectly saying that men cheat, and since it's a well known phrase, It's more marketable to say a man's a dog, than to say a woman is a slut. Men have always been card carrying members of the "stick it anything" club. Not saying that all of us act on the club benefits... because a lot of us don't. That's just the stereotype we're born into. Just like folk say that women have a born desire to be in a relationship and married off to some guy. They'll go crazy if they aren't with someone now, or have been with someone. They're born and bred to be taken off the market by someone. Yeah, okay. Totally situational, guys.
However, these sayings work, and I don't think men (as a gender) really give a damn what society thinks of them. You don't see men throwing a hissy fit because someone called him a "bitch"

The cause for cheating though is a little conundrum in itself. Now, allow me to blatantly say, unless you used your brain and deduced that every thing I'm saying is purely opinion,
"What I'm saying is purely opinion"


Also, let's just get it out there- that there's never an okay time to cheat. If she/he is that bad, LEAVE. Simply put. Do not try to justify the shit. And don't give me that "what about swingers?" nonsense... Swingers, unlike people in 'normal' relationships don't have a commitment to each other; their commitment is to sex. Swingers- you can be in denial all you want. By definition of the word 'commitment' you can't swing. That's oxymoronic. Just like you can't justify cheating. By definition, 'cheating' is something you ain't supposed to be doing.

The reason men cheat are threefold.

• LUST: That fine ass girl in the club is winking at you... she's whispering in your ear. She's saying all the right things. She'll suck your dick. She'll let you put it in all the places your boys at the barber shop are putting it at. She can wind it in ways that make wifey back home dizzy. And she don't wanna be with you... she only wants tonight...damn... you just need something... different. JUST. THIS. ONCE.
  
  
• REGRET/PARANOIA: You're with Lisa for eight years... but she doesn't like football. YOU LOVE football. Of course you should have stressed how important that was to you- but she met all the other criteria, so who cares? Then you meet Ashley. Ashley LOVES football. Ashley doesn't run off at the mouth so much. Ashley hangs out with the fellas and can pound Guinessess better than "Craig and 'em". Man...maybe SHE'S the one you're supposed to be with. Why'd you have to meet her after Lisa?!! And the rare, but totally possible... I fucked up with her... she's never coming back, I'm such a loser... whose shoulder can I cry on? Oh. The 'friend' who always understands... (wait... that's not really cheating. You may be on 'a break'. haha "FRIENDS" humor)
  

• EGO: This one's tricky. This is the one that most people assume is going on when they catch a man cheating. This is the one that is the blame for most frat guys, old men, high school kids, ANY man who gave non-verbal signs that he was NOT ready for a relationship, despite what his MOUTH said, and you (the woman) plunged into one anyway.These guys are only looking for notches on the belt, so you weren't really 'in' a relationship with him anyway. Face it, sister. YOU WEREN'T.
  

Women on the other hand are a tad different. Cheating, like everything else they do is careful. Nurtured... emotionally attached. I've found through my life it goes like so...

• VENGEANCE/INADEQUACY: Well, Tony he cheated on me so I cheated on him. Or I know he's out there doing this, that and the third so... All he does is sit around on his ass, playing Playstation. When I left the house he was playing Playstation... when I got back he was playing Playstation. WTF? Oh. Tony... I realized this morning, I need a man that makes MORE than I do. He ain't doin' it for me anymore.
  
  
• NEGLECT: He didn't pay me any attention. I have needs. He's never home. I fall asleep on him too much.
  
  
• BAGGAGE: Well, my dad cheated on my moms... or my Mother instilled in me that I was nothing but a floozy, or my last husband cheated, and since all men are dogs, I'ma be a dog too. And so forth and so forth.
  
  

So with that being said, it stands to reason that women are more careful than men when it comes to cheating because MEN, don't care for relationships the way women do. MEN, stereotypically equate all women the same with the exception of well, "The Exception" (even I follow this. [See earlier posting: The Constant]) Equate meaning, yes I would like to marry her. But if it goes down the shitter, oh well...they're like buses- another will be along in a couple minutes. Which in a weird way is sorta true given the female to male ratio of the world. Women care for their relationships and grow them like flowers because they've been waiting and desiring to be loved, and to love, so when they are willingly and purposely fucking up this sought after position... they take the necessary steps to prevent being CAUGHT. Men try not to be caught as well, but probably more from a "I don't want to be a dirtbag" position.
Regardless of how you look at it, the common reason and conclusion is this.
Cheaters really don't care for the relationship they are in. If they say they do, then they're lying to more than just you and the other person. Denial isn't just a river.

But you know, it's like I said. strictly opinion... and mild observation.
I could be wrong.

By the way, the ONE. And I mean ONE time I cheated... it was totally because of LUST. And it was a very similar situation to the one I described... so see? I'm all about the shite I preach. lol.

"I'd be crazy, to let my man go and let some other Jane Doe come and try to steal him, Oh no!" -Alicia Keys, 'Jane Doe' (Songs In A Minor)

P.S. My quote for this blog is kinda hypocritical... given that she was kinda the Jane Doe in the whole Swizz/Mashonda thing, right?





Tescadero adds... (18 NOV 2010) 


Another popular reason MEN cheat that actually is the only forgivable one on the list. A lot of you will say 'Fear of Commitment' but really- that doesn't count because if they fear commitment they wouldn't have made one to you- and you can't 'cheat' if there's no commitment.

• INNER TURMOIL: Sometimes you'll find guys that have no other way to deal with their own sketchy pasts or inner problems than to simply distract themselves in another woman's embrace. These are usually the guys who are viewed as exemplary. Guys who have families that they generally love, yet for some strange reason they also love some other woman. This guy is usually running from some larger problem that he can't beat through conventional means, so he runs. Runs into the arms of another woman.  ...and given time he'll run from her too. This one is rare. 

Actually, women can perform that one too.

Whatever Happened, Happened [Rarely Pure]

Well...it's been a minute since I TRULY had an adventure. I had been secretly begging for one among the bland school, work, and blah routine.
Well...you know how they say be careful what you wish for...

The night started out simple like this: [Note: Viewing the videos in the story ARE NOT required to understand the story. It just adds a wee bit of comedic depth. Note again: Before the first video starts, I'm already up 4 Jack and Cokes and now, three of those Buds in video 1 are mine.]


and then I decide to partake in this:



and then finally at 3 something, AM...


Now... I'm pretty sure I went home at that point. The bar is right around the corner literally from where I stay. Totally visible from my roof. In fact, I KNOW I went home, because I spoke to @couturekitty on Twitter. But then that lusting demon nature of mine rang out, and I somehow ended up calling a girl that I knew would grant my carnal desires with very little feedback. So I stumble my way back out into the night, and that's when my phone is going bananas. Why?

The trip from my bedroom to the car was about thirty minutes long. And it appears that I managed to drunk dial a couple of folk in between as well. One such call went to my friend Ajax. Ajax is hammered. Ajax is outside my house honking the horn. I tell Ajax that I haven't had anything to drink so I couldn't party like he obviously was. I tell him to take me to the girl's house where he drops me off and promises to comeback in 20 minutes. I do not like this girl. 20 minutes is sufficient.

Ajax is good on his word, and now I'm sweating and covered with woman fumes. I say, "I needs to shower." Ajax, says "Let's take the beers I just got, and go swimming." I say sure, confident that the pool we were going to is legit. Because swimming is definitely like showering, and I'm not thinking to ask where the beers came from at 4 AM.

Meanwhile, the girl is at this point trying to figure out how I'm going to get into my house seeing how I left my keys at her house. So she annoyingly calls me up to ask me will I return. Which, she wants because that's more time I soend with her. I tell her that she needs to cool it down, and she asks me am I drunk. [Note, I can drink for days. but I like to consider myself a time delayed drunk] I'm now hammered. So hammered, that I feel like lying is the best option here. So I say no... she exhales. I jump into the pool.

The water's cool, and the beer- disgusting...oddly familiar... but it's STRONG, so I won't complain. The pool however, belongs to somebody Ajax doesn't even know. So when there's lights inside the house and shouting in our direction... two lightskinneded half naked guys have never ran back to the car faster.

We get back to my house, and I'm LOCKED out. So Ajax says, dude there's a ladder on your garage... and I say, "Hells yes...because the upstairs window should be unlocked." Nevermind, the ladder won't reach the window, nevermind, I am now shit faced gigly drunk. I place my nasty strong beer in my backpocket and up the ladder. Now... talk about good saints... because the girl is out front, and notices two guys climbing around on the garage in the dark. Where she now calls the police. We almost simultaneously come out into the street where she realizes her mistake and she screams at us. Ajax turns to me and says, "It's the pool guy!" and he takes off down the street. Between the screaming, Ajax running, distant sirens and the sudden screeching of tires- I take off after him and we run until we can't run anymore and end up in the field near the train tracks.

I wake up... and it's day light and between our lifeless bodies is a bottle of Thunderbird.
I drag myself down the field with Ajax barely conscious... and get back to my house. I grab the spare key from the next door neighbor and finally, Ajax and I crawl into bed... to recover.

...
For 23 minutes when my hypochondriac sister calls an ambulance and then THAT started...ugh.


"The truth is rarely pure and never simple." -Oscar Wilde

All The Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues [Strive to touch the Stars]

So lately I've been feeling ...what's the word? Meshy. I've been placed in situations where I have to act responsible to make critical decisions for children under my watch. In my care...under my influence.

Is this God once again, trying to teach me something? He put The Constant in my life to teach me compassion... he made me care for my grandmother and become a "Big Brother" to learn patience. What if he wants me to become a father?
Is that possible? I mean I've always been anti-children...but not in these recent years. I've always secretly feared being a father. I've been known to joke that I would backflip out of vagina before I came in it. ...as a reply to guys who have kids and say, "It was TOO good to pull out." Yeah, right. See...My dad sucks. Not saying he's a bad guy, I barely know him... he just sucks as a father. Anyway, I can't help but recall something that happened not too long ago every time I'm placed in the Daddy position.

[BTW...this is an excerpt from my old blog on MySpace, called "The One with My Daddy Issues]

Episode 118: The One with my Daddy Issues

"I'm so ugly, my father carries a picture of the kid that came with his wallet."
-Rodney Dangerfield

So... I'm not a complete asshole.

In my attempt to sell myself as a better candidate for the female audience, I occasionally swallow my fear of children and put on my role model mask. Now, believe it or not- I am quite the role model, and I give out GREAT life advice despite my own terrible behaviors. However life has a funny way of keeping things in check that you wouldn't believe...

So- I'm hanging out with this girl- for shits and giggles we'll use the name Nora- and Nora has a little boy of about 2. So, I kinda don't mind little boys at around this age because they're becoming curious and the destructive edge is coming out of them... yeah, no more baby blue and cute booties. We got a man-child on our hands. Give him the touch. Give him the power. Nora is beginning to attempt to potty train him, and I don't know how it happened, but it suddenly became a great idea for me to teach him how to go peepee in the potty. Now usually a request like this is beyond my capabilities of acting, regardless of how bad I wanna girlfriend. I am at level 5 fear now, and my brain is screaming "Abort! ABORT!" However, I do not.

I scoop little Aaron up and whisk away to the potty. The magical realm of number 1's and 2's. I stand there speaking in that ridiculous baby talk of broken english nonsense- "Peepee goes potty" with a majestic fatherly vibe. This is it! I'm tappping into my inevitable daddy vibe. I'm so proud! I immediately stand up to demonstrate how the regal number one is performed, and whip out my dick. Now, it is here where maybe I forgot I was teaching a kid how to pee. Maybe in the back of my mind I really had to go, or maybe it was sheer force of habit. Regardless, I tilted my head back and released magical beer/liquor/soda contaminated urine into the toilet as I'VE DONE A MILLION FUCKING TIMES.

Only this time, there wasn't that orchastral sound of peepee splashing against blue toilet water. No just the sound of peepee on skull, because Aaron sure was bent over, head half into toilet looking into it.

I look down in confusion at the absense of sound first, then to my horror I'm peeing on this kid's head. I painfully stop peeing, but it's kinda too late. I've peed all over this kid. So I immediately toss him into the shower and run water on him. Nora is asking what's going on- and I tell her he put his head in the toilet. She screams.

Same difference right?

Yeah...I'm SOOOO ready to be a Dad.

"And he that strives to touch the stars, oft stumbles at a straw." -Edmund Spenser

The Cost of Living [Today]

Today is the greatest day I've never known. Can't live for tomorrow...
Folk like to say that I'm anarchistic...or nihilistic, that I'm cynical and I don't stand for anything.
Maybe. I'm actually none of these things at all.
I always like to think of myself as someone who only deals with the 'superficial things that really matter'... I still laugh at that.

Humanity is ridiculous.
My friend Christian used to live in an apartment, and in this apartment, some genius had decided to mount a fairly large double mirror on the wall opposite the shitter. So I couldn't take that shit without staring at myself. And it was there that I realized, that I'm never going to me more respectable than right here. You are now scrunching your face in confusion.

The point is I strongly believe that people take themselves too seriously.
You preen and you posture, you make love and war, you protest and stature... and you do it with such gravity and meaning.
When... everyday your very own biology makes you go look and feel ridiculous.

"Save the planet!" Like we matter to the planet. "Pro-this" "Pro-That" "Anti- this" "Fight for that"
Blah. Blah. Blah. Keep doing everything you can to build yourself up.
...except the "superficial things that really matter"
The higher you climb, the further you think you can run away from your nature. Maybe you need a mirror across from your shitter.

Maybe I'm pretty damn fatalistic...or maybe I'm an idiot in the guise of intellectual praise. Either way, I just wish people would re-think all their agendas.


Does this make any sense?

"There are two days in every week that we should not worry about, two days that should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One is yesterday, with its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. Yesterday has passed, forever beyond our control.

All the money in the world cannot bring back yesterday. We cannot undo a single act we performed. Nor can we erase a single word we've said - yesterday is gone!

The other day we shouldn't worry about is tomorrow, with its impossible adversaries, its burden, its hopeful promise and poor performance. Tomorrow is beyond our control.

Tomorrow's sun will rise either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds - but it will rise. And until it does, we have no stake in tomorrow, for it is yet unborn.

This leaves only one day - today. Any person can fight the battles of just one day. It is only when we add the burdens of yesterday and tomorrow that we break down.

It is not the experience of today that drives people mad - it is the remorse of bitterness for something which happened yesterday, and the dread of what tomorrow may bring.

Let us, therefore, live one day at a time!" -Anonymous

Meet Joe Budden [Expect Nothing]

Shelley invited me to the Rock the Bells concert yesterday, which was all the way out in Baltimore county. Since I pride myself on being impulsive, I decided to go. Besides, I was having a kickass weekend with Shelley so far. What could a trip out to this random concert hurt?

KRS-One is there. He's doing what KRS what KRS does. Tech N9ne's there... haven't seen him in a little bit. It's kinda cool. Big Boi performs...not mad at that. The Roots beat it up, Common kills it and Busta Rhymes loses his damn mind.



So I'm having a great time... but I'm hungry. I'm hungry and I need to eat. As I'm walking I happen to finally notice the lineup for the concert and I notice that Slaughterhouse is listed. I'm thinking to myself wait a minute... not my new favorite group... featuring two of who I believe to be the most underrated MC's in recent hip-hop history. Joe Budden and Royce Da 5'9".

I immediately start tweeting Joe...(@mousebudden on Twitter, one of the very FEW celebrities I follow on Twitter, who sucks on responses, lol.) asking him if he's performing at the Merriweather show. I had to have tweeted him about four times, in between walking to the BBQ shack and getting Shelley a margarita. So I'm totally harrassing her about why Joey and Royce are underated and why I wish they'd get their turn in the limelight and how Slaughterhouse is going to kill it... when I decide that this BBQ sandwich alone won't cut it. So we walk down a little hill to hit the Boardwalk Fries and I'm sitting there totally worried because I'm wondering if I missed their set or not. I'm biting fingernails, waiting on the jerkoff in front of me to hurry up because I wanna get back to my seat in case Slaughterhouse goes on. I'm still tryin to tell Shelley about how great they're tracks are when the jerkoff moves and I catch a glimpse of his arm...which surprisingly has the same tattoos that Joey has. He heads to the condiment table and I oddly follow him over, as Shelley watches me in a strnge bewilderment. I approach him silently as he's drowning chicken tenders in ketchup- because I don't wanna yell his name out just in case that's not him. I walk up on him and I think I think I kinda startle him as he turns to me and gives me this look that without a doubt perfectly displays his annoyance and says, "What the fuck do you want?"
As talkative as I can be, for 5 seconds I was at a loss for words... and he gives me the strangest "fuck off" stare and mumbles, "Dude, chicken tenders" as he leaves the table. Royce walks over and then my words come back...

"Hey... when ya'll going on?" I ask feeling incredibly stupid.
"Around 7...yeah he's pretty hungry"
I walk back over to Shelley, defeated... and she gives me a comforting hug. When we return to our seat, I take a look at my twitter and notice how coincidental that I'm tweeting how I wanna see Slaughterhouse, then immediately after I tweet:

TonyTescadero: Yo, @mousebudden Sorry for running up on you at the ketchup table. I just really respect ya'lls work.

There was a big screen over the stage you could text messages to, and Shelley made my day by offering to text the scren: "Don't mess with Joe Budden when he's eating chicken tenders" but it never showed up on screen...sadly.
The end result however, is that I sat in my chair eagerly awaiting Slaughterhouse, and at exactly 7:05 PM a friend of Shelley's who was there comes up and says "Yo... Slaughterhouse just killed it on the other stage"

Sigh...
I guess I'll just have to wait for the album.


"Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed." -Alexander Pope

Catch-22 [Thankful for the Fools]

Before I get into this story, I have to state that yesterday was my friend Sarah's birthday. At her party- there was drinking, dancing, drunk tweetin, cake eating, and someone brought a pack of those temporary wet-on tattoos. So we're all pretty hammered and somewhere in the mix, either I or someone else decides to give me a tramp stamp.I get one of roses, stems and a heart in the middle and a little fairy on the end.


Lately, my friends have been trying to hook me up with a girl. I'm beginning to think any girl will do... I think they're just tired of seeing me grow colder as the days go past. I'm not making this up my friend Jamie actually said, "I can't wait until you find a girlfriend so that you can become the you were when [enter The Constant's name here] was around" Which I don't really understand but whatever. So I'm hanging out with this girl, fighting the fiercest hangover from Sarah's party. This was my third time out with the girl, I wasn't in particular finding any signs that this relationship would prosper- especially on this particular date where we just kicked it back at her apartment watching a movie along with the surprisingly great dinner she cooked. We were making casual conversation when the topic of past boyfriends popped up.
Now she's a pretty trendy girl, I knew this from date two when she decided that I was over due a whole day spent at the mall revamping my attire. I argued I'm not trendy, and I actually enjoy my individuality. She's used to the skinny jeans guys, the 365 scarf guys, the earring guys, all the things that guys are doing nowadays that would've gotten me an all expense paid ass kicking from my father.

So anyway, after hearing a buncha stories about her exes, which included such acts as spending the night over his male friend's house while all three slept in the same bed... and one of her ex-boyfriend's once took her shopping and gives her excellent makeup advice since they both were interested in modeling. It just seemed with each story her taste seemed more and more... metrosexu- fuck that, gay.
I even commented using that term- in that exact sense. It's a frequent colloquiallism to do that, not that I am a gay basher, I actually enjoy the company of a couple of my gay friends...(while the others, I wish would lose my number) I just wouldn't protest with them. It's their war, not mine. [Here comes the hate mail.] She decides to give me the third degree about my choice of words, and how I'm an ignorant right wing minded person. I did not defend these terms- due to I feel I shouldn't explain accusations that aren't true. Now these exes probably aren't homosexual.. not even questioning that. It's just those actions are kinda feminine. End of story.
So the conversation ends, and we're eating...I'm commenting on her great Mc and Cheese. She enjoys the praise... and then we're half an hour into "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" when we're making out.
Then. I'm taking my shirt off. Then. She sees my temp tattoo.
She stops...pushes away, and then asks me with a slightly disgusted face...

"Eww. Are you gay?"
"No."
"Hmm. Well... I'm kinda uncomfortable...so let's just watch the movie"
I can't win for losing.

"Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed." -Mark Twain

Left Behind [So Learned]

During a recent Twitter conversation I had, I was reminded of an event that occurred two years ago that lead to my current opinion of sororities. Come with me down memory lane.

I was working the bar at Union Station in D.C., and anyone who knows D.C. and works in hospitality in union Station knows our dreadful seasons, Summertime. Abortion Protest. and the Annual AKA convention. (Why do the AKA's standout, you ask? Well, because they are the most festive, infamous and notorious... or whatever adjectives you want to throw in there...the most likely reason though is that they do enjoy their dinner parties.)

So a party of 15, young, fresh of the initiation block, AKA's come strolling in the door in their salmon pink, mint green and aura'ed highs and physical lows. They speak well, they sit well, they know their salad fork.They are SO civilized... TO EACH OTHER. To their server however, all except 4 of them are extremely rude and demanding. I have been working here for a while. I was used to this behavior. They are so rude, that I decided to step in, an ensure everything went smoothly- because the server was new... and I didn't want this one bad experience jade her forever.
Silly requests like, hot ketchup... and crushed ice, a pack of napkins, diced tomatoes... three extra baskets of bread, the works.
Luckily everything went smoothly... and they were served and pleased. If they had issues they kept it within themselves at the table... and then their bill came... all $276.89 of it. I decided to tell the girl not to add the 18% gratuity..we usually add to a party that large. On the argument, that these were classy broads that are all about the image they project. "They would be appreciative of all you did for them." I argued. They left an astonishing $290.00 (which we had to figure out, after the bill was split 16 ways. ... and one of them left their purse.

It took about 7 minutes, but Jiminy Cricket finally kicked in. And there I was was running down the terminal of the Amtrak frantically looking for the young airhead that left her purse behind. Like a light at the end of the tunnel, there they were at the taxi stand... laughing, joking, in their own world. As they huddle in groups and begin cramming into cabs I call out to them the only way I can.
"Hey girl, ma'am- HEY!" I'm screaming this as I finally reach one of the girls and grab her shoulder from behind.
SHE GOES THE FUCK OFF.
She begins sassing me about how she has a name, and don't put my hands on her, and she got a boyfriend and she wasn't interested in me because I wasn't her type... all to the acoustic soundtrack of her friends laughing in the background. So...as I catch my breath, I decide... to just... drop the purse on the ground and walk away. I re-enter Union Station... leaving behind the "oohhhs" and empty thank yous.

And I say all that to say, yeah I was mad. But I didn't let that experience ruin my perspective about the AKAs...well actually it did, but my neighbor's apart of the AKA's and she's kick ass. There are also four other women I know that are the pillar of that community...
So I guess the point is, don't let one bad apple ruin the bunch. That goes for people that are always saying things like black people don't tip, all men are dogs, all white folks smell like wet dog when they're wet, or all gay people like pink. Well...wait all gay people do like pink. Some doesn't equal all in this life ladies and gentlemen, that's a fact. If you truly believe that it does, then you are just as ignorant as the folk you're downing. And that's bad.

I'm just playing. All gays don't like pink. ...but they do come from France.

"He was so learned that he could name a horse in nine languages; so ignorant that he bought a cow to ride on." -Benjamin Franklin

Entry: Everybody Hates Tony [Nice Things At Funerals]

If you've been following my blogs, (on MySpace, and now www.tescaderospeaks.com) then you should know all about my rules- the guidebook I like to call it.

And you should also know about why I made it.

My adult life has been full of ups and downs. But one thing that seems repetitive in my checkered past is girl trouble.
See- one of the things about being me is, I'm pro the old days where guys drank the liquor straight up, were head of their household, read the sports section at the dinner table, fixed cars on the weekends, grilled in the backyard on hot days, knew the sound of hot rod engine,burped, scratched, and pounded a couple with the fellas after work at the local bar.

As someone who refuses to settle, or fall into the pitfalls of society that most people have fallen into, (i.e. have a baby before I can take care of one, do what I have to do to put food on the table instead what I dream to live in joy, and ignore individuality) I sometimes appear to be the rebel that some women crave, but don't want to KEEP. You know, the maintenance man. He goes by many titles. The milkman, Dick in a Glass, The Other Guy, Mr. Fix-It, The Go-To [Julie], The Buddy. This is extremely dangerous when the women belong to the guy I hang with. It's all about the crave. I'm not a rebel at all... it's just in THIS day and age- the quality things that I believe in seem alien- and I strongly believe it's curiosity that makes someone else's significant other attracted to me. I represent everything they don't have currently.

And I take full advantage of it. Well I did. Then I wrote the rulebook.
But the rulebook had a side effect. It made me more cold and self-serving than I actually am. I also missed a lot of opportunities with some good [in theory] women. Now, the funny thing is- I've definitely played the 'good' card several times and told the boyfriend, but it never went the way I would want it. (That's another conversation)

Here I am, a time later and faced with the decision of tossing said rulebook because there is a 'good' girl out there that just happens to be the ex or something to a friend of mine... and I know that there's that natural curiosity from her side of the playing field. The question is, is it right? But regardless, if it is- I will have my enemies and people that look down on my decision. Because the rulebook clearly tells me that shouldn't screw my boy like this, (even though they're not together) however what if her and I are more compatible? And, if that's so, why should it matter if it's right or wrong?

Everyone always talks about, "Oh you shouldn't care about what people think" and they're kinda right. You shouldn't. But that shouldn't dictate your human interaction either. Because eventually you have to give a damn about what people think. Unless you have no goals, or you were born into wealth. You definitely can't afford to have everyone hate you. So plan all your decisions accordingly.

I'm going to keep my hands to myself btw.

"They say such nice things at funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days." -Garrison Keillor

The Other Woman [Uncertain]

So... is anyone else a bit put off about this Alicia Keys and Swizz Beats thing? Don't get me wrong I respect both of the contributions to the music industry, it's just this union has definitely raised my eyebrow. I mean, I'm trying not to sound like a hater, but this just seems...odd; especially since dude is married.

When you think of Alicia Keys, you think of this elegant, and morally 'right' person. Maybe it's because of the nature of her music, her raw talent, and her philanthropy. Maybe it's me, but you'd never expect her to be 'the other woman' but... as you can see, in this world- expect the unexpected.

And this is funny... because in reality- you can attach a lot of proverbs to this situation. 'You can't judge a book by it's cover", "Opposites Attract", but probably "Everything Is Not What It Seems" fits best. (this is where the conversation strays from the picture) Always try to stay on your toes.
'Why?' You say? Well, because everything is not what it seems. Just when YOU THINK you got the situation locked, then bam! You circled the block 4 times! And when you decide to pay that parking garage fee, that's when the space in front of your brownstone opens up. It's apart of the daily chaos that is this life. And in order to maintain a good bearing in the storm that is life, you gotta keep your mind open. One of the worst things you can do as a person is fall victim to routine. Because your brain loses it's imagination- it's ability to cover all the bases- anticipate the foul balls, the unexpected possibilities. So try something new every day. And don't be afraid of change, or taking that right turn when everything says go left. Consider random possibilities! Play random scenarios out in your head, and anticipate Murphy's Law. (Believe it or not, I'm not trying to turn you into a pessimist.)

Besides. She looks way better with Common.

"Life is very short, and very uncertain; let us spend it as well as we can." -Samuel Johnson

BAMF Promo

Soon to be the hot new online show!!!

Confirmed Dead [Unnecessary]

According, to most folk, I'm a JACKASS. And some women think that the girls I date (and you should know by now, I use 'date' loosely- as in hooking up is a date) are trash. Which is funny...

But, I can't help but notice that I don't have any of the relationship issues that most people I know do. I don't have to worry about making that Facebook single/not single/complicated or the status where I wear my heart on my sleeve. "I don't need you anymore, I was true- you lied. I'm a better woman without you!" and blah blah.

Nevertheless it seems like lately the most pressing issue that most crosses my desk is when to let go. You know, where I'm going with this- so if my usual cold perspective pisses you off. Eject your ass from the page now.

Now the problem with most of ya'll is you think that you can just sweep the past under a rug and be done with it. Even I, with my detached attitude, know this is untrue. Unless, you're me... or like it. Relationships aren't drugs- hell even drugs take more than cold turkey to kick. If you do try to handle it overnight, it'll be like a Band-Aid. It hurts like a bitch, and it may leave some sticky residue behind. Think of it more like a- lawn mower- you know you're out there on a hot summer day and you're looking at that jungle you call a lawn and saying to yourself, "Grass, I'ma cut you!" then you get to pullin' that crank cord and -nothing. You gotta pull it like three or four times before it cranks up. Hell if that picture ain't working for you- think of it like tipping over a soda machine. One push won't do it. You gotta get it rocking first.

Because try as you might- and tell all your girlfriends or boys... but you're gonna hook up. Again and again. Until one of you finds someone better than YOU/THEM. Which will then solidify their position as an EX. But why stall and waste that time? Some of you could have found that next person. That person that maybe you should be with- but you couldn't see their light because you still got your head under the past's umbrella.

Newsflash- They are an EX for a reason!

Do yourself the favor of taking a serious break from them- respect the reasons that you broke up with them and stop submitting to the silly needs of the flesh. And please. PLEASE never think that you won't be fine without them because trust me- they weren't with you during puberty, or when your parents divorced. So you can get by without them now...and vice versa, despite what they said you are not the gears that make their clocks tick. If you are- then you shouldn't have been with them in the first place. Set a standard for yourself and stick to it. Discipline dammit. If you can't then don't complain about it to your friends. Do you know how pathetic you sound when you and your friends agree that you need to separate yourself from your Ex, but you find reasons to go back- and when you get your feelings hurt, (oh because you WILL) you come singing that same sob story to your friends again? Especially if you are the type of person that put your friends on the back burner and neglected for your relationship-which now you realize did not last, but you expect your friendship to. So if you can't discipline yourself- try trusting and appreciating your friends more.

This is probably a good time to try putting yourself on a pedestal. No. It's not conceited- in fact it's the perfect remedy for those that just wanna cry or already are crying because he/she left. Do some trash talking. Realize they ain't shit, and you're glad they're gone. You know- sometimes God, or whatever higher power you believe in- takes people out of your life to make room for the person that's supposed to be there. But you wouldn't know because you're fighting it. And for those that feel that their EX is that soulmate and God DID make them just for you...
Do yourself a favor and don't come back until they fix everything that made you leave. (Or until you fix everything that made them leave- however you're reading this.) Stay away from them until that happens- go find yourself! Take YOURself shopping or to the damn movies. Hell, if you can't enjoy yourself, then what makes you think somebody else will? Okay. I'm done. I know it's all jumbled up and out of order and I'm just ranting but- I needed to get it off my chest, because if I see ONE more of these lopsided ass relationships where the partner is in a good place and my friend is steady trying to do something, hoping to do something, wasting time because they got there nose wide open for Sally Rottencrotch or Billy Crookeddick devoting ALL their spare time to them- I'm going to scream. (Especially, if ya'll have "broken up")

Take from it what you can.

"A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water." -Carl Reiner

Adrift [Nonsense Now and Then]

Ok. First of all, let me just first apologize for my blatant ignoring of the blogs. I think I got wrapped up in the revitalization of Yahoo Messenger with Sara and Taneshia... but whatever. I've apologized- and we can move on.

I find that irony is the most ridiculous of all the things that happen in my life. I'm not even sure that this can be called irony. Nevertheless I'm going to share this story with you.

Late last year I was using the T-Mobile WING...which wasn't a bad device, once you hacked into it and unlocked the pure power of PC modifications. Anyway, one day Tam decides he wants to invite me to the Eyebar with some co-workers of his. I agree, and we take off and I meet some folk, I have a great time. Then, at the let out-one of the girls that I was just introduced to jumps on my back in a playful manner but I wasn't expecting it, so my phone flies out of my hand, falls to the ground, the battery casing comes apart and the battery falls directly into a sewer grate. What are the chances of this happening? Slim. But when you're Tescadero....anything is possible.

So I immediately went and upgraded to a T-Mobile G1.

Now, that G1 has been a great phone since day one with me, I haven't really had any major complaints with the device...it actually fit in with the rest of my daily crap (i.e. iPod, laptop, keys, wallet) pretty well. That is until the other day I was hanging out in Georgetown with a couple friends and I had my G1 resting in it's discreet little belt clip. I was taking a stroll along the water side, I'm not sure what that little canal that runs between M and K streets is called but that's where I was. Now for a reason that I choose not to get into because it will lead away from the point of the story, I had to take off into a short sprint. And when I did- guess what?

The G1 hit the ground, the battery casing comes apart and the battery falls directly into that damn water. And when this happened, it almost took in a slow motion with 'O Fortuna' playing in the back ground as it galloped off the dirt path and then splashed into that filthy stream, lost forever.

So I figured until I contacted my insurance company- I was stuck with the little bullcrap Sony Ericsson I purchased in a haste to replace my WING while awaiting my G1 to arrive. And it was two days later- yesterday in fact that I hit the town with the fellas- I drove uptown to Cleveland Park for a couple drinks with Reggie and Jyscal in the back and my cousin Derrell riding shotgun. Riding up Connecticut Ave. banging out Daft Punk, switchin to Kanye, and B sides of Biggie, we push through the rain in good spirits and jokes. Derrell is sippin slow from his little SOLO cup full of some strange alcoholic mixture. He decides to place his cup in my cup holder- and I turn onto this small side street to park. I'm U-turning to squeeze between two SUV's when the phone rings. It's Mike. He wants to know where the party is. I tell him let me call you back and put my phone down on my cup holder/arm rest. As I back into the space with razor sharp precision- Derrell taps me on the shoulder and says,

"Your phone is in my cup."

"A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men." -Willy Wonka

Entry: Stranger In A Strange Land [The Real World]

Lately, I've been feeling blah...

I'm living in a neighborhood where everyday two kids walk either to or from school- rapping Lil' Wayne lyrics at the top of their voices past my window. (which if you've seen where I sleep is amazing and ridiculous)
It seems as though the charm I had too much of in my early 20's has expired because almost every person I meet does something that is just WEIRD to me. I was on the bus the other day at 2 in the morning and there was a pregnant woman (whom I heard her admit to her friend how the club they left earlier was wack and she spilled her drink on whatever girl had bumped into her) who was accompanied by her friend and what I can only assume was her two children. Surprisingly the bus was packed, and I didn't really see the validity in getting up to offer her the seat. I figured that if she could be pregnant and out with her kids at 2 in the morning, then she can stand up. Naturally some of the other riders didn't not share my perspective. So I got off the bus before I was ejected from the bus.

As some of you have been aware, earlier this year I decided to get back into bartending-so I started working at three places, while I absorb myself in the return to school. Long story short, one of the places was socially enjoyable but a colossal waste of my time. (and I strongly mean that in the upmost of lexical ways) It was at this particular place [that shall remain nameless because smear campaigns aren't my bag.] that a party was held for some gogo band which is like DC's thing. I wasn't impressed with the music nor the crowd it drew- especially the girl that requested the merLOT and fifteen minutes later dance-*ahem* have sex, with some guy she had just met on my bar. At this same establishment, I was accused of a deed so disturbing (especially if you know me- or know my lifestyle) that it almost tempted me to act out of character. So I quit until further notice.

Later on that day, I enlisted the help of the entire mod squad of drinking to attempt to celebrate a plethora of things. Amidst the adventure in the bar though, I was accosted by this girl who without the slightest of greeting or introduction demanded I buy her a drink- and once I agreed, also wanted one for her friend. I wasn't in the slightest attracted to the girl, yet to humor myself- I complied. Needless to say she took her glass and vanished without a trace. I then proceeded to drink until dawn...literally.

The next day- I awoke and was invited to go to the bar with a good friend of mine whose life was in shambles recently. But with a little patience (and just blatantly him having more resources- and more disciplined than I in the areas that matter.) he cleaned his shit up. And while we were drinking ourselves into oblivion, just before he realizes he's drunk he turns to me and says, despite all your shit, and douchebagness, comedic rants and random coincidental life, you make the most sense.

And all I could do was smile. Because I think maybe I do make sense. Maybe I am the odd man out but I'm not wrong. The majority is.

Maybe it's because I am determined to live my life to the fullest while at the same time, maintaining a certain level of personal dignity, which I expect everyone else to want as well. I don't know. But as I walked home, I realized that yeah, I do make a lot of sense.

So yeah. This was a shameless pat on MY back. (I think)

"I found out something I never knew. I found out that my world was not the real world." Robert F. Kennedy, 1968.

Entry: [LOST]...and Found

As most of you know, I'm into the show LOST for the moment- (thanks Spencer) mainly because it continues to intrigue me. As the series is drawing towards it's inevitable ending, I've decided to post the events/items that I've noticed that may or may not play a vital part of the show. I will be adding more theories/questions as the weeks go by. But for now let's start small. [Note: All episodes I reference that are within Seasons 1-4 can be viewed for free at abc.com or hulu.com- if you don't own the DVD and wanna check]

1)Who are Adam and Eve? (introduced in the season one episode 'House of The Rising Sun' by Jack) As of now, it appears the most realistic answer to that is it's Rose and Bernard who haven't been seen since the season 5 episode 'The Lie' after the mysterious flaming arrow attack during 1954. When Jack discovers the bodies, he notices the bodies must be around 50 years old. [The plane crash takes place in 2004] Maybe they took refuge into the caves and there either died of starvation or were killed by island hostiles.
2)What did Jack do with the black and white stones he found on the bodies? And more importantly- what do they signify?
3)What is Christian Shepherd? Chronologically, he's been out of his coffin since the crash. [He sent Vincent to wake Jack up in the pilot of season one. This is actually not shown in the actual show, but the LOST mobisode "So It Begins" (which you can view here- http://bit.ly/lwdcM)] So, did he come back to life upon crashing like Locke did later in season 5? Or is he a dead manifestation of the island? And if so, why is he out of his coffin? Following that same line of intrigue, was Christian already dead when he spoke to Sawyer in the bar at Sydney? Probably not- Sawyer's never seen the dead before...but it may be possible.
4) Speaking of Jack's awakening in the Pilot episode, what is that item right next to his head? It appears to be Ben's extendable baton...(which he used in S3's "Every Man For Himself", and S4's "The Shape Of Things To Come") It may be possible if the entire series comes full circle and the end is the beginning. Will it come down to Ben and Jack? Or is it pure coincidence?
5) In S2's "The Other 48 Days" Ana Lucia says "We were in the air for 2 hours..." however the pilot of the plane claims that "6 hours in, our radio went out..." Was there a time delay/travel anamolly here? Or was it a simple miscalculation on Ana Lucia's part? Which is sort of unlikely seeing how she's a cop and supposed to be observant... but we all know how that is screwed...
6) Skip ahead to S3's "A Tale Of Two Cities"... while it was apparant that there was something going on outside-which forced everyone to go and see what the commotion was...Ben left his house and almost immediately looked to the sky, (before anyone else does,and before 815 is heard or seen) as if he were expecting a plane...(the sound that drew everyone outside is actually from the hatch button negligence from Desmond.)
7) Locke is later told in S3's "Further Instructions" by Boone to "bring the family back together" he then goes on to imply that Locke must save Eko ("before that you must clean up your mess") Could the family Boone spoke of be Jack and his mysterious father, Christian? He is the father of Claire as well whom he later does successfully reunite with in S4's "Something Nice Back Home"/"Cabin Fever". Since Christian had a strained relationship with both of his children, this would seem the most likely. The weird part is- going back to Christian- what exactly is the relationship of him to Jacob? He seems to speak on his behalf, and he and Claire seem awfully comfortable in Jacob's cabin. I should also point out that in the Old testament of the Bible, Jacob was Aaron's [great]-great grandfather. (Aaron is the name of Claire's baby)


8) Finally, [for now] S3's "The Man From Tallahassee" Locke boarded the sub to sabotage it with the C4 he took from the Flame DHARMA station. Yet, when the sub exploded- he was soaking wet. Also, just before the sub exploded, the sub was not visible, yet it was when he approached it. Is it possible that he moved the sub? Or maybe submerged it to make the Others believe they couldn't leave the island? Locke is against people leaving... and the explosion occured at the end of the dock, even though it was moored up in the middle of the dock when Locke approached it. There's further reason to believe that either Locke sunk the sub, or was conned by Ben in the Lost mobisode, "King of the Castle" [see it here: http://bit.ly/ZPIHJ]

This is it for this week. I won't open Pandora's Box yet... but feel free to comment with things you've noticed as well.

Livin' On A Prayer

Entry: The Constant [All That Important]

I've only actually been IN love twice.

Once, with a girl that died when we were teenagers. The other I met by chance in Virginia, during my active duty days. One of the few good memories from that place. It was supposed to be a setup for NSA purposes. See, us military guys usually have these things on the brain. (Not necessarily in this order)

1. The 1st and 15th. (payday)
2. America.
3. Killing enemies for America.
4. Deployment
5. Sex in random/foreign places
6. Blowing things up.
7. Physical Training
8. Blowing things up in practice to actually blow things up that belong to folk against America
9. Inspections
10. Having something nice to come home to.

Well, I was in the search of a number 10. A shipmate of mine had a girlfriend that went to Hampton University, so myself and two other guys- Lucky and Mook decided we should get some Hampton girls too. It'd be nice to come home to a college girl...even if we honestly didn't give that much about them. Who'da thought I'd end up... giving A LOT about mine?

It was weird. Everything I liked, she liked. Everything she wanted to get involved in, I got involved in, and vice versa... I mean don't get me wrong... we didn't do EVERYTHING together- but we sure fooled others. I remember I used to drive from Newport News, Va to Pittsburgh, PA to see her when she was bored. (She graduated from Hampton, and moved to PA for grad school) We watched TV shows on the phone together. We cracked corny jokes, communicated through code words, pseudo telepathy, catchphrases and eye contact. I tried to teach her baseball, she tried to get me to like the Redskins. Didn't happen for either. She came looking for me when I went off into those dark periods. I'd give up on life, and just run away. Pack a bag, drive off into the night, live for a week, or a month in another place... and back then, there was a couple of those.

Somewhere in there was an uncontrolled theory that I should be in a relationship with her. Yet, instead of riding off into that proverbial beautiful sunset... we had minor success of being soul mates overshadowed by epic fails. She warned me, she didn't want to trade our friendship for a relationship. She just didn't want to, and I pushed it. And...it just didn't work. When it failed, it ended with me nearly going off my damn rocker traveling through a tunnel of self-loathing, depression, alcoholism, nymphomania, violence and self-destruction.

We used to talk everyday. As anti as I am about screwing over friends for people that you're interested in a non-platonic way, I did it first with her. I even put older friends on the back burner if she wanted to hang out... and I learned she did the same eventually. Amidst all this 'perfect' however, I decided to leave... I went away... part of me wanted to stay with her, while the other part recognized she found some other guy, and confusion, and I figured I'd go, and either come back fixed- or she'd hear about me dead. Either way, (as twisted as it sounds) I'd come back.

Then she got married. And I went ape shit.
Flash-forward some time and a kid later, and a definite change in mind status... we are separate and things are like so distant. Or so it seems. Lately, we've made random small talk slowly catching up- which has been subtly awkward. And then suddenly an episode of Clerks: The Animated Series comes on which features a running joke we used to find hilarious. Caitlin Bree. 
HILARIOUS. 
...and apparently that has stood the test of time. I immediately called her up, and informed her the episode was on and in that brief couple of seconds, it felt like those old days. It's funny because just two or three days prior, she mentioned how bitter she was at me for letting the friendship tank like this. How she warned me that taking the friendship beyond just that would destroy things...and how I didn't listen. But. That was then... and this is now.

Then I remember she got married to a guy I couldn't stand in high school. Of all the guys walking the Earth, she somehow stumbled into the lap of this guy.

And now, I wonder if the friendship can ever be repaired. I wonder if I ever want to. I mean, I miss her and everything- but what I had in her, I've repaired the damage in the levee by bringing in nine, yeah 9, other girls to replace her. So nowadays there's another girl that I call everyday, there's another one that I talk baseball with, there's another one I flirt with nonstop, and another one that knows all my dirt... and so forth. 
Our friendship was definitely worth trying to save then, but she's married- and it goes against my own set of codes to try to befriend her now.
However. 

There was only one her.

"Banky Edwards: What is it about this girl man? You know you have no shot at getting her into bed. Why do you bother wasting time with her? Because you're Holden fucking McNeil, the most persistent traveler on the road that's NOT the path of least resistance. Everything has gotta be a fucking challenge for you and this little relationship with that BITCH is a prime example of your fucking condition. Well, I don't need a magic 8-ball to look into your future. You want a forecast? (Picks up Magic 8-Ball toy and shakes it.) Here, will Holden ever fuck Alyssa? Oh, what a shock, "Not fucking Likely." This relationship is affecting you, our work and our friendship and the time's gonna come when I throw down the gauntlet and say it's me or her. Then what are you gonna say?
Holden: I think you should let this one go.
Banky Edwards: No, what would you say? Would you trash twenty years of fucking friendship because you got some idiotic notion that this chick would even let you sniff her panties, let alone fuck her?
Holden: Look fucking asshole, I'm telling you, okay, let it go!
Banky Edwards: What the fuck, man! What the fuck makes this bitch all that important?
Holden: 'Cause I'm fucking in love with her, man, okay? "
-excerpt from 'Chasing Amy' by Kevin Smith