PERFORMANCE FIRST

ANGRY PASSION

2012-01-13T16:43:00.000-05:00

What I wouldn't give for a spin in the Aventador! Damn near brings a tear to my eye.

The New 2012 Lamborghini Aventador - Top Gear... by videosonlytube

LIGHT 'EM UP.

2011-12-15T13:47:00.000-05:00

"Hi. My name is |d®| and I'm a recovering electronics junkie."

It's true. Put me in an electronics store with a credit card in my pocket, and I was guaranteed to leave with something. It never got too bad, to the point of getting in debt over it, but I bought a lot of unnecessary sh*t. I'd look at something and be like: Cool. I need one of these.

Which means that a few weeks ago, when I had to move, I was aghast at the electronics junk I've accumulated over the years. I had boxes stacked in the closet full of stuff, believe you me. I'm old enough to be practical so I decided to part with some of my toys, the ones I hadn't used in over a year. Let's just say I threw away three-quarters of everything and I still have a big 'ol plastic container full of Lord-knows-what.

Which brings me to the point of this tale: I've always wanted an iPad since its inception. I mean, who doesn't? They're freakin' amazing. I'd sometimes go to Micro Center, my favorite store, and play with them there, but I soon stopped doing so for a pretty good reason - messing with an iPad would make me want it more. More to the point, there was no f-in way I was gonna pay at least $500 for something I didn't need. I mean, you can do way more with a good ol' laptop, and I had that already. Plus, protective case or not, it was probably only a matter of time before I or someone else dropped and broke it, like I did my dearly departed Kindle.

Which is why I was über-excited when Amazon announced they were busting out their own tablet, the Kindle Fire, and for a (comparatively) measly $199 too. I was sold before I even saw it. Shoot, I even pre-ordered that mofo, and for 3 reasons:

1. I could read Amazon's (or B&N's, or anyone's) books with it

2. Anything else it could do would be a bonus

3. Did I mention it cost less than half the price of an iPad?

A few weeks later it came over, and I love it. It's not as good an e-reader as the original kindle, but I can hold it in one hand; the iPad is a two-handed affair. It's merely OK at surfing the web, and it can be sluggish at times. (Amazon's working on changing that, at the time of this writing)

The best thing about it is that Amazon didn't lock it. In a few minutes you can install almost any old app from Android Market, which I did that first night. And did I mention it cost $199?

Problem is, Jeff Bezos, Amazon's founder, is a smarter man than me. This Kindle is lighting my wallet up, burning my money. No wonder they call it the Fire. For real. Amazon content is right there at your fingertips, and after you read that book or watch that movie it suggests other title for you. Right there. It's freakin' brilliant - for Amazon.

My name is |d®| and I'm an official electronics junkie.

THE DISADVANTAGES OF BEING A GEEK - CORPORATE EDITION

2011-12-13T10:12:00.001-05:00

When I first started working here, our network, or workgroup rather, was laughable. I could see the initial signs of order but everything was in chaos.

Cat-5 cables crisscrossed the building. Inter-departmental networking was non-existent. Sh*t, computers in the same department weren't even connected. To put things in perspective, someone would set up something in Photoshop, save it to a Zip drive and walk over to the computer connected to the printers, plug the drive in and start printing. The humanity! All it would've required was access to a share drive and boom, there you have it.

To make matters even worse, we had dial-up internet. But that was OK, coz they were still laying fiber-optic cables back then, and options were zero as far as broadband was concerned. Only one computer was connected to the web, for emailing purposes. Thing is, everyone else had email addresses too, but only one computer to access them from. And everyone seemed OK with it.

I wasn't having it. From a workflow perspective, it was ridiculous. I'm not even an IT guy, but I couldn't work like that knowing things could be a lot better.

I talked boss-man into purchasing a 10/100 switch with 10 ports, up from a 10MB/s hub. The company was small back then - with less than 10 workstations - and switches were expensive, so we got that one. Otherwise, I would've gone for something with a lot more ports. That made quick work of the networking problem.

Next up was email. Everyone was connected, and everyone had Outlook Express at the very least. There was the small matter of the slow-ass dial-up, but it would have to do. A [relatively] quick internet search brought up a couple dozen internet proxy programs. I tested a bunch of them, settled on one, and that was that.

Over time we acquired more and more computers, but no one seemed to know what to do to get them to talk. Broadband came and only one computer was taking advantage of it. A few more switches and a router and the problems were solved.

Why do I even do this sh*t? I don't get an extra dime for doing all this, which distracts me from my usual workload, but it seems I haven't learned my lesson.

Like, the other day, it occurred to me that everyone & their mama here has a smartphone or tablet, and that the reception in here is next to nil, and that I had a wireless router sitting at home doing nothing. I brought the router over, hooked it up to the network, did all the necessary security stuff, then went and told boss-man about it. First thing out his mouth was: What's it for?

*Sigh.*

TRANSFORMERS

2011-10-18T08:00:00.003-05:00

Alright, I give up. The blogging juices just don't flow anymore. Blame it on social media or whatever, but the motivation's really low these days.

But then I lay down one night, got up the next day, and realized that I'm still a geek, always been. So, why not talk about geek stuff? It is my blog, after all.

Keep it right here for the new and improved, I hope, content.

SPRING FLURRIES

2011-06-03T23:46:00.005-05:00

Whew! Been busy for a while there. And that right there, ladies and gentlemen, is the understatement of the year.

Since social media is all the rage, and since pics speak louder, here they go:

**********************************************

I'm not really into classics, but this here did something to me.

Ahh! Homemade burgers!

Lil' cuz graduating a few weeks ago. In the timeless words of my [other] illustrious cousin, "Watu wame-grow!"

I only hope Kenya isn't someone's name here.

Oh fate, why dost thou torment me so? What are the chances that the exact same WRX I want is parked right outside my window? Curses!

Alcohol - the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.
Cinco de Mayo - same thing. People were all bleary-eyed at work the following day.

Laptops are such a pain in the ass to dissect. Why do I keep doing it?

Apparently, this still happens. There goes my 5-hour-long torrent.

Was in Michigan for another graduation. My only regret is that I had to drive through Ohio, the boringest stretch of highway I've ever seen, with roads so straight you'd swear the earth's flat.

Yeah. Stuff in Michigan is weird.

Of course, Michigan also means Motor City, which also means you get to see cool stuff like this - partly assembled vehicles. Never mind the ever-lengthening crack on the windshield.

How the hell did he make my steak & shrimp in 3 minutes flat?

Couch? Floor? Table? Bar? Standing up? She can fall asleep anywhere, anytime.

BLACK BOO... I MEAN, BEAUTY

2011-05-21T08:50:00.002-05:00

Lord help me in these apocalyptic times - I loves the booty.

Hear me out:
Maybe it's my 'tanned' disposition. Or maybe it's something much less tangible and much more spiritual, but I'll say it again - I loves the booty, especially of the chocolate kind.

Shawty says I love the chocolate because I'm caramel, coz she likes the caramel and she's chocolate. She might have something there.

Nevertheless, the bubble is where it's at, for me at least. YouTube Timothy Bloom's 'Til The End Of Time' if you dare.

SNAKE OIL

2011-04-04T08:28:00.003-05:00

Rarely is schoolwork interesting, for me anyway. The other day I was forced to help someone with their business composition assignment, aptly dubbed 'Ewconomics,' and I found myself rather enjoying it.

The premise of this assignment was to try and make something really terrible sound really good, like a used car salesman would. Or an army recruiter. Or the HR people who duped me when I got my first job - you see what I mean.

For instance, the example the instructor gave for #6 went something about the fish really biting right off the beach. See what she did there? Quite clever.

I'm not gonna post my answers since I don't wanna embarrass myself before y'all intellectual types, but feel free to help a brother out with some of these if you'd like. Didi? CB? KK? G? Where y'all at?

LIKE GLUE

2011-03-29T06:59:00.004-05:00

It was when I saw a quarter lying on the ground and picked it up that my workmate was like:
I'll bet no one can resist a quarter. That right there started it all.

We're pretty much always bored when here at work. If not that, overloaded with work, which makes something different, anything really, awesome. So you know what that crazy mofo did? He grabbed a couple of quarters and super-glued them to the pavement, one right outside my window and the other in the back of the building, and the rest is history.

The first one to fall for it was the owner of the company right next to ours. He's familiar with our antics so when it didn't budge when he tried to pick it up, he knew exactly what was going on and burst out laughing. He is though, by leaps and bounds, the wittiest of all who've tried to pick that quarter up.

People spend minutes trying to dislodge it. This one older cat even resorted to trying to kick it loose! That sh*t had me dying. Some other dude fell for the one in the back of the building - and the one at the front! Hilarity.

Are we wrong? Maybe. Is it worth it? Totally.

BOW WOW WOW YIPPIE YO YIPPIE YAY!

2011-03-25T09:53:00.018-05:00

He who picks up a dog's poop after them is someone's bitch.
How's that for a thesis statement?

***********************************

I was fortunate, at an early age, to have had considerable international exposure. Where I'm from, somewhere in Murang'a, [or is that Mulang'a?] is a very poor place. I'm talking about where-will-my-next-meal-come-from, mud-hut-straw-thatch poor. It follows that there were a lot of missionaries, priests and such all around us.

This one particular family of Americans liked my Dad a lot, being a schoolteacher and active in church and all that jazz. Though they had a house in Nairobi, the missionary family was over at our crib a lot, our home being their base of operations while they did their stuff around the area and beyond. His kids, about my age, would help around the farm, drink our water and eat our food which was, now that I think about it, remarkable. I've never known any other 'Merican or Euro to trust 'our food' so completely. They didn't even get queasy and swear off meat when watching animals being slaughtered for food! All in all, they were great people. I was sorry to see them go back, when I was like 12.

Of course, needless to say, they were responsible for a lot of our first brushes with American culture: They were responsible for my first hot dog, Archie comic books, M&Ms, Legos, and countless other things. When they departed, they left us their queen-sized bed and a bunch of other things. My eldest siblings were making money then, so they helped my Dad purchase the missionaries' Nissan Bluebird station wagon [1800cc!], which I thought was the sh*t. The greatest gift they could ever have given me though, and they did, were their 3 dogs.

[I'd always been surrounded by dogs since I was a baby, but we hadn't had dogs for like a year before we got those three, all because a bunch of thugs came over one night, [F*ck you, you pieces of sh*t] killed my 2 dogs and smashed the house up. Thank you for not touching my Moms tho. (Story for another day.)]

One was a Labrador mix twice as big as I, named Solomon. [Quite fitting; the dog was quite the snob] The other was a German Shepherd and much younger than Solomon, named Buckwheat. The third was a female - I forget the name coz we gave her away and didn't get to bond.

Solomon & Buckwheat got along great unless the female was around; they'd almost kill each other then. Good Lord, their fights were vicious! So, we gave the female away and their beef stopped almost immediately. Interesting.

The best time of the day for me, after school and slaving at the farm all evening, was right before dark. I'd "let the dogs out" from the kennels, watch while they devoured their one-meal-a-day, then took them deep into the farm for exercise and for them to relieve themselves. They were well trained - never pooped in the kennel. I loved those dogs to death, but I learned at an early age that dogs WILL come and go all too soon so I, when they died right before I came here, was heartbroken but alright.

Fast-forward to this day and age.

All these years, I've always wanted to keep another dog but haven't, and for three reasons:
One: I can't afford to keep one, financially and time-wise.
Two: I'm not picking anyone else's poop after them.
Three: If aliens came to earth one day and saw me picking up after my dog, they'd hypothesize I were the inferior species. That's just not happening.

Every morning on my way to work at 6.30 in the morning, and every evening when I get home, I see the same thing: people walking their dogs around, leash in one hand and plastic bags in the other. Hell to the no, I'm not built for that. I love dogs but unless I have a big 'ol yard where they can run around and go #2 wherever they want, that just won't fly. Plus, I reserve the right to keep them outside, which I can only humanely do in the South where it's warm so, until that day, I'll just have to be dog-less.

But more power to anyone who keeps a dog. Thanks too for letting me pet them. Can't wait for the day I can have one.

INSPIRATION ALL THE WAY TO PRODUCTION

2011-03-16T18:21:00.006-05:00

Here's a short clip of some goings-on at my illustrious [hardly] place of work. You'll lose about 6 minutes of your life watching this, so I hope it doesn't put you to sleep.

I to X

2011-03-09T07:55:00.001-05:00

Today's one of the saddest days of my automotive life.
I pray, to all things holy, that this isn't true.

INSPIRED

2011-03-04T08:37:00.004-05:00

I'm full of sh*t, I know: A mere couple of months ago I declared I didn't, and wouldn't, need a better mobile phone. Well, the other day the techie bug hit me with a vengeance and I splurged. Now I realize just how great it is to be abreast with 21st century technology, and it's an eye-opener.

As anti-Apple as I always am, it means I'm now running Windows 7 on all computers, and Android on the phone. Sweetness. That iPhone 4 is sweet tho, I won't even try and pretend.

Maybe I can now start blogging again, now that I actually want to be on the computer. What are those Facepalm and Twit-whatsitsname things again? Maybe I can reacquaint myself with them.

DEUCES

2011-02-18T10:03:00.006-05:00

People are sometimes just gross. I'm starting to understand why The Dishwasher, once he started going to school for that medical stuff, became a borderline germaphobe. Not to say I'm getting there, but I'm now acutely aware of how nasty people can get.

I'm right now sitting at my desk at work, feeling like I need to disinfect everything in sight, all the while while listening to J. Cole. [Like the little engine that could, that lil n*gga is good. He said so himself, and he's right]

OK. Back to the story.

This same thing happened yesterday, incidentally, but with a different person: A little while ago I was hovering around the bathroom area, right by the 'watering hole,' when I heard the toilet flush. The door promptly opened and some dude got out, newspaper in hand.

"Whatever you do, don't go in there," he quipped. "15, 20 minutes at least."

That's right - he dropped a deuce and didn't wash his hands. WTF?! I'm sorry, but that's just nasty. I can excuse the occasional piss without washing one's hands, but a #2? Getthefuckouttahere. Then I'll be out there, see the same dude and give him a pound? The very thought of shaking a doodoo-flecked hand gives me the willies.

Where those disinfecting wipes at? I think I see some discolorations on my keyboard. Oh wait, what's that outside?

All better now.

FOOD, SHELTER, EVO.

2011-02-01T12:00:00.001-05:00

I was lying in bed late last night, trying to catch my breath right after putting that thing in the sarcophagus. (See what I did there?)

It was raining ice and I could hear the clink-clink of the icy pellets against the pavement, right outside the bedroom window. The heat kept blowing incessantly, and my frugal Kikuyu mind kept thinking of how steep the power bill will be this winter. Sh*t, it’s already been up there these past few months and seeing how Old Man Winter has the entire continent’s balls in a vise-grip lately, that won’t change any time soon.

That said, I don’t know why I don’t like spending money on myself. I threw away a second pair of jeans yesterday because they were torn – and about 7 years old. I know I need new clothes bad, but I won’t get myself any. Matter of fact, the last time I got myself any gear was back in 2008. I cringe to think that I’m becoming el cheapo. I don’t think that’s it exactly though, coz I splurge on other people. I’ve no problem getting my family or friends things, just getting things for myself. WTF is wrong with me?

Truth be told tho, all I want, next to food and shelter, is a Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X. That and an iPhone 4. Till I get those, clothes be damned.

OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE... SAME.

2011-01-18T10:34:00.002-05:00

I think God must be an impossibly intricate being. Of course He is, I can hear you say. For the first time though, I’m beginning to realize just how complex an entity He [or she, or they] are. And not in a bad way at all; He just has a strange way of doing things, that's all.

Picture this: one morning you’re getting up to go to work and while driving there, BAM! This happens.

But you’re virtually unscathed, which is the best possible outcome, coz everything else doesn't matter and can be replaced. And replaced it was, by an identical [save the color], better and more inexpensive iced-out version.

As in iced-out literally, this morning. The weather’s been a b*tch lately.

But here’s the thing: the entire situation can be summed up as someone coming up to you and telling you this:
Let me punch you in the face and scare you a little, and I’ll give you a couple of thousand bucks.
So, as you can see, all’s well that ends well.

And now, 2 of my local tuner’s drag-racing cars. You should hear them run, even idling out there - loud as a mofo.

LUCKY #13

2011-01-11T12:32:00.005-05:00

It's weird - there's something about me and the number 13. I'm not superstitious and have never entertained that there might be something unlucky about the number, because if I were I'd be in a constant state of paranoia. I mean, check this out:

- I was born on the 13th
- My parking space at work is #13
- My mailbox number at home is 13
- I have exactly 13 pairs of shoes
- I was 13 when my eldest sibling got married
- Had my first crush when I was 13, on some Redbone neighbor named Angela
- My first day of work at my current job was on the 13th
- I have 13 toes

Okay, I'm kidding about that last one. But you must admit that's one too many 13s in one person's life.

And now, some random parking fails, four of them all at the same time. *SMH*

THE GAME

2011-01-04T09:54:00.008-05:00

Wow. Time really does fly. 2011 already? What’s next? 2020? Life really is fleeting, I see.

For the first time in eons, I went to church this New Year’s Eve. Trying to start the year off right, y’know? I was skeptical about the service, thinking there wasn’t gonna be anyone over there. Boy, was I ever wrong. There were so many there it was unbelievable. There barely was space to sit, and we had to go to the overflow section even! People, black people especially, love God, apparently.

But seeing how that was Friday night, it left Saturday night open for a little mischief. I hadn’t been to a club in forever, but this time we were like: F*ck it – let’s do this! Fortunately, it was uncharacteristically warm that night, much to my relief. So, three of us jumped in the hooptie and headed downtown to DC.

For once, we had no problems whatsoever. But then again, we are all grown and had done it all, so all we wanted was to have a good and safe night, unlike back in the day when things were a little crazy, involving fights and cops and whatnot. We actually found a great parking spot, which is nothing short of a miracle downtown, then walked over trying to find a spot to go to.

In a few minutes we encountered this one place that felt right. It was 2 floors worth of goodness – R&B downstairs and Hip-Hop upstairs. The bouncer collecting the cover even gave me a discount because, and I quote, I paid for the ladies. Less money out my wallet? That’s always good.

But it was when we went in that I realized just how much I’d missed the nightlife - the loud music, the pulsating lights and the festive atmosphere, not to mention the dancing. It’s a beautiful thing. But the best part of it all? The game.

See, Shawty and I have this harmless [I hope] little game we play sometimes: We act like we’re not together, just to see who’d get hit on the most. Needless to say, the odds are almost always in her favor; guys will hit on anyone fine whether they have a man or not, but girls are a lot more – shall we say – perceptive. Never have we played this game and Shawty struck out – all she has to do is go to the floor and *bam* - some dude shows up. I on the other hand, have had nights where no one tried to holla, save for giving me the eye across the room.

Of course, there are risks to this game, and my testosterone-fueled paranoia never lets me forget it – I can’t help but keep an eye on her. The minute some dude tries to cop a feel or mess with the goodies, it’s over, and I go break it up. Not that I’ve had the chance to, coz she’s fiercely protective of them, and especially because she knows I'd be livid. But I can’t help but watch, nevertheless. Hey, gotta mark the territory, right?

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind anyone else all over me. One time sometime back I went to get another round and got accosted by this one girl by the bar. Let’s just say I took too long and Shawty came to see what was up and caught me with the other girl’s arms around me and mine gripping her waist, gyrating to the music. The horror on my face must’ve been apparent, but she just laughed it off and was like: I see what you’ve been doing. No no, don't stop.

I’m not an idiot. I stopped right away.

But anyway, back to the tale.

This time around, Shawty and her girlfriend downed their drinks and promptly hit the floor. In what seemed like seconds, the vultures were all over them, much to my amusement. I was just standing there on the sidelines for a long time, sipping on my drink, watching them and scanning the crowd, when I noticed one girl by the bar giving me the eye. I seriously considered going over and chatting her up or asking her to dance, but then Shawty came back to check on my ‘success,’ of which I had none. Something about the way we spoke, or the body language, must’ve seemed too cozy for the girl by the bar coz when Shawty went back to the floor and I looked up, she was gone. And that was it – no ‘play’ for me that night.

But that’s quite alright. I being the simple creature that I am don’t need any compromising situations. But girls seem to able to tease without personalizing it, something I don’t do well. I love the feel of a woman’s body too much to ignore it. Not to say I lust over everyone I dance with.

And it was with great satisfaction that, after the night was over and with the vultures watching, I escorted the ladies back to the car, which was still in one piece. I didn’t even have a parking ticket pinned against the windshield, and the Lancer seems to attract those more than bird-poop. All in all, it was a great night.

Happy New Year, everybody. Knock 'em dead this year.

SCROOGIN'

2010-12-23T09:32:00.008-05:00

‘Tis the season, they say. O joy. I’m a regular Scrooge around Christmastime. Maybe it’s because I’m not spending it with my Moms-n-‘em again; I miss my family terribly. But I suspect that’s not the real reason I’m Grinchin' this time of year – it’s that damn Christmas music.

Allow me to elaborate.

When I was back home, I loved Christmas as much as the next guy. That meant my siblings would be home for a few days at least, that there’s be tons of good food, and that I’d [finally] get a break from farmwork for a little while. My sister, the family chef, would go all out and I’d happily devour everything she cooked. Even my dogs and cats would be full that time of year, especially the dogs, which always seemed hungry.

Fast-forward some years later, and my first job stateside was at a popular retail store, one of the biggest here. I started working there around September, and quickly started to dislike it. For one, they put me up at the cash register. I don’t do people coz people suck, so I went and asked management to give me something different to do. As a form of punishment, I suppose, they placed me in the – hold your breath – infants section. I’d restock the shelves, straighten everything out and help flustered mothers carry strollers or formula or whatever they’d just bought.

Needless to say, it wasn’t the greatest department to be in. Parents were always in a hurry, and ill-tempered for it. Badass kids yelling at their parents got to me. [Who yells at their parents where I’m from? I’d have been “D.E.D. dead,” and you know this] I’d have loved to be in some cool department like Electronics or even the Tools Section, but there I was restocking pacifiers and diapers. I was soon an expert about everything infant, even making suggestions about what customers should get. I was captain and ran a tight ship, and nothing was rarely out of place. [I said that like I enjoyed doing it, right? Wrong – I detested every second of it. But hey, gotta work.]

To make matters worse, when there wasn’t much to do, especially around closing time, I was expected to go help other people out that still had stuff to do. Of course, some of the other cats weren’t expected to do this and perpetually horsed around, even tossing [American] footballs back and forth, but that didn’t bother me. Sometimes this other African cat and I would be sent out in the freezing cold to gather the shopping carts and bring them inside, and as we stacked them by the entrance I’d see a football flying back and forth across the store. But that was OK too - I liked to work. Made the time go by fast, freezing digits notwithstanding.

But then Christmas season came, and it was a wrap. Everything changed, and not for the better. There were always so many people in there it was unbelievable. They’d come in and wreak havoc on the shelves, topple stacks of whatever and rummage through the toys, making cleanup a nightmare. I worked every weekend in November and December and had no choice in the matter. Plus, I had tons of homework, seeing how it was semester’s end. All of it was wearing me thin.

What convinced me to quit was neither of the above issues. Those I would handle, but I just couldn’t take that damn Christmas music playing throughout the store all day long in a tight loop! No lie, they played the same songs 10-plus times while I was there. Jesucentric Christmas music is OK by me because, after all, Christmas is all about Jesus, but they were playing songs about some fictitious obese, red-clad geriatric who supposedly gave presents to everybody who had been nice. There were even songs about his elves and reindeer!

[I know my uncle had a song about his favorite cow, which I thought was hilarious, but this? At least he could get milk from that damn cow, but Rudolph the reindeer never deserved a song. He’s not even real!]

To top it all off, it was my first winter ever and I detested every moment I had to go out in the cold, but one of the songs was about some dude wishing for, and I quote, a white Christmas! WTF? Rub it in, dude, why doncha?

They say incessant repetition may cause insanity and that Christmas music, while working there, got me hammering at insanity’s door, for real. The day after Christmas, I emptied my locker, clocked out, said bye to the African dude and never looked back. I didn’t have another job lined up yet, but I’ve no regrets about that decision.

5 days later, while chillin’ at the crib, the supervisor called me and was like:
“D, you haven’t shown up for work some days now,” he paused, awaiting my response that never came. “We’ll have to terminate your employment.”
“I didn’t show up because I quit 5 days ago,” I responded, and hung up.
Ah, I can still taste how good that felt!

But anyhow, Merry Christmas to you and yours. Have fun, and that’s an order!

SO 32-BIT.

2010-12-13T20:34:00.004-05:00

[I check the Heat
and I Replace The Fuse]

I have a strange relationship with my cellphone. I realize I need it, but I could care less where it is - till I have to make a call or text somebody. Kinda like the nice, to-the-point note the maintenance guy left me a few days ago, [above] I'm very to the point with the cellie, doing nothing I needn't do with it.

But it's never been like this before; I was always super-excited by cellphones before. Shoot, I remember getting my first cellie like it was yesterday. Leaving the AT&T store all those years ago, I could hardly keep my hands off it while driving home. Sure, everything was green and black on the display, and it was built like and shaped like a brick, but I couldn't get enough of it. I discovered every single one of its 'advanced' features that same night. The plans they had back then were horrendously expensive and I was roaming everywhere, but I didn't mind it one bit.

Every single year after that first cellie, I got a new one. The only other one I remember after that first one had *gasp* a color display! I thought that was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. And I could actually check, using the phone, how many minutes I had left for the month?! And send SMSs?! I was untouchable!!

Then Motorola came out with a phone that could actually play MP3s and was sync-ed through a then new-ish iTunes, and I had to get it. Truth be told, that was a sorry excuse for a phone, but I kept it for an entire year and a half, till I got the best phone I've ever had, a Sony Ericsson Walkman phone, which I kept for Lord knows how long.

But here's the thing about the Sony - it did everything so well, fulfilled my meager needs so completely, that I had no desire to get another for the longest - until it called it quits. After that, I lost all interest in cellphones, and I don't understand why.

I play with my friends' and workmates' smart-phones all the time, all the while oooh-ing and aaah-ing at how cool they are. I played with Crackberries, iPhones, Droids and everything in between and soon realized that I have the sh*ttiest phone I know. My lil' cousin has a better phone than I. Shoot, I don't even have a data plan! But does that bother me? Not one bit.

Am I losing my techie edge? I sure hope not. At least I keep abreast of other things like computers, but I'm still a far cry from how I used to be like. Help me, Steve Jobs. Help me, Bill Gates. Hell, help me, Tom Cruise.*

*Talladega Nights.

POP CULTURE

2010-11-22T07:59:00.014-05:00

I still maintain that without exposure to all sorts of different people, one doesn't know sh*t. You know, the whole he-who-doesn't-travel-thinking-his-mom's-the-best-cook thing. A week or so ago, I got an interesting peek into so-called "civilized" culture.

I used to travel, drive around I mean, all the time. And I mean all the time. That would explain the many miles on the Slo-Z, I guess. This year tho, I haven't driven around much at all. Matter of fact, I haven't been anywhere I didn't need to be for months. But that all changed the weekend before last.

On Friday, I got off work early as usual, and promptly took a nap soon as I got to the crib. A few hours later my 'driver' came over, and soon after we left. I hadn't driven the Zoom-Zoom in a while and I'd missed that lil' bugger, so I told my driver to slide over to the co-seat and shut up. A few hours later found us in the Philly area.

The following day, I called up one of my oldest friends and made plans to meet up later. While we were driving there, their kids had gotten hungry and tired, so they asked to meet up at some restaurant. Thanks to technology, I looked up the restaurant's address on the phone, plugged it into the GPS and we were good to go. Herbert, the GPS's new voice that Shawty hates, got us there in no time.

But we were in for the shock of our lives when we got there: The restaurant was in a freakin' country club! Not only was it gated and surrounded by acres of manicured grass, and frankly I was surprised there wasn't a wochi at the gates, but there was a County Police vehicle idling at the far end of the parking lot.

We parked and sat awhile in the car watching the people walk - no, waltz - into the lobby in genuine horror: we were severely under-dressed! It was cold that night and had thought we were only going to be at our friends' house, so were were both in sweats and sneaks. Meanwhile, everyone walking in and out of the restaurant was in khakis and dinner jackets. Pearls adorned every other lady's neck and diamonds sparkled in each ear. Little boys even wore khaki pants, dress shirts and those sleeveless Carlton Banks-like sweaters, whatever they're called!

Shawty was mortified and wouldn't get out of the car at first, and I too was reluctant to make a spectacle of myself, but then I remembered I was born with a pair. I grabbed them, assured Shawty it'd be alright and strolled into the restaurant like we owned the place.

I looked up and around at the expensive furniture, massive chandeliers and the impeccable servers sashaying about. Then I really looked around and noticed, much to my amusement, that we were the only chocolate and were surrounded by a whole lot of vanilla, if you catch my drift. That never bothered me too much, however, so we walked over to the dining area and were immediately accosted by a female server.

"Do you need a table, sir?"
"No we don't," I replied. "We're joining another party."
"Right this way," she gestured, and pointed at a table by the far wall. Lo and behold, there were our friends!

After greetings all around, my friend was like:
"How did they know to bring you here?" she inquired. "I only told our server that we were expecting 2 more people, not that girl who brought you over."
"Somehow I don't think she had too much trouble figuring that out," I replied.

***************************

"In this white man world, we the ones chosen."
Kanye West - Power

I'M BAAAAACK!

2010-11-16T11:16:00.010-05:00

Been an eventful couple of weeks, and not necessarily in a good way. Still, life is such that it must go on, regardless. And seeing how I'm on the clock and so much has been happening, allow me to describe what I've been up to lately with some photos:

Downloaded J Cole's new mixtape. This kid is the future, for real. Can't remember the last time allhiphop.com gave 10 stars to any mixtape.

This is the best burger joint in Newark. Newark Delaware, that is. Good luck finding it on a map, tiny as Delaware is already.

More parking mishaps, right outside the office. Dude parked, scrutinized his handiwork and just walked away. For the life of me, I don't understand it.

Wasteful and proud of it. I can dig it.

When pigs fly? No, wait - when winged, chromed-out hogs.... sit? Or is it some mythical creature, some bacon Pegasus? I give up.

Clearly the sign wasn't heeded, but chewing it up like this? How is this even possible?

Yes, I assure you, I made this for the real Terry Bradshaw.

And for the real McConaughey.

About to do some maintenance on my cousin's car. Anyone guess what type of car this is, make & model?

The 1st generation Viper is surprisingly small, smaller even than the Slo-Z, as you can see.

Spanglish at its best.

Hadn't seen this in years, when it hit me the other day at work. Perfect excuse to [finally] petition for Windows 7. The bossmen pinch pennies these days; there has to be a good reason to buy new software.

And after work, a little fun. Hey, can't be all work and no play, right?

R I P, J.W.N.

2010-11-02T07:06:00.003-05:00

Rest in peace, lil' cousin.
The good die young, they say, but you were way too young.
Much love, and see you on the other side.

MAC OS XP!

2010-10-28T11:49:00.004-05:00

So, word on the street is that Bill Gates' wife won't allow anyone in her family to use any Apple product. Not MacBooks, iPods, iPads - nothing. Gotta admire her stubbornness, especially since she knows full well that the iPod Touch, for instance, kicks ass. Not to mention the iPhone itself.

I'm a Windows fanboy and won't touch anything Apple, [tho the iPod touch keeps calling my name] so it was with great amusement that I stumbled across this theme that gives Windoze the look and feel of Mac OS X. [I know, I gotta be a geek to even find this remotely amusing] O what sacrilegious delight!

OK, I'll stop.

IT WAS ALL A DREAM

2010-10-08T06:20:00.009-05:00

Sitting here at my 'command center' [work] at seven in the morning, I'm having one of those contemplative moments about life. You know, kinda like the 'intellectual' jibber jabber that ensues while intoxicated with a bunch of friends.

I don't know why I never thought about it, but I live a destructive lifestyle. Most of us do, anyway. Is the human forever destined to live this way? I mean, all I do is work and go back home and not much else. Of course I'm glad I have a job, especially in this recession of sorts, don't get me wrong. But that's the problem right there - I'm supposed to be glad I have a job. I'm supposed to work all day. I'm supposed to pay my bills on time. I'm supposed to do all these things, and I've no idea why I'm supposed to. Who the hell thinks they're the boss of me?

Why, just the other day someone suggested that since, for the first time ever, I've been in a relationship a couple of years now, I should think about marriage. And I know exactly what would happen next - if we were to jump the broom, we'd be expected to spit kids out immediately. Why? Who said that's how things have to be done?

But I have a solution, my friends. Since this society is irreparably flawed, there isn't any point in trying to change it. What I need to do is start a completely new civilization. In that civilization, I'd keep out the things that plague our society [money, politics, OFFICE WORK, Apple computers, dentists] and keep the good like electricity, [a completely new] internet, PCs, smart phones and cars.

All I'd need is a deserted island somewhere along the equator. Since it'd be perpetually warm, I'd mandate that the women wear as little as possible. [What? It'd be hot there!] The only work that would be done is work that would ensure sustenance, like farm-work and masonry, computer and auto repair. Everyone would be required to work out an hour a day minimum - no lard allowed. Vegetarianism would be outlawed. There'd be no PETA, and every man would own a cat and every woman a dog. [It'd help them understand one other - the simplicity of man and complexity of woman]

*Yawn* Oh man, it's 8AM already? Now I'm up. What the hell am I talking about?! Back to work!

Wide Open Throttle

2010-09-28T10:11:00.005-05:00

I might need to sell my car, coz this is getting ridiculous. I can't seem to drive slow.

Tell me why, while driving to work late yesterday, I got stopped by 5-0. Granted, I was in a hurry coz I was late, but I always keep an eye out for the boys in blue. This particular one, tho, was driving this:

What! They're in trucks now?! I couldn't believe it when I saw them blue lights flashing at me behind that ginormous grille. That's it - no more speeding for me. Can't afford that sh*t.

But ask me about that next week.

*Image is borrowed

**************************

Hot Joint of the Day:
Miguel ft J. Cole - All I Want is You

GAMEFACE

2010-09-24T19:26:00.003-05:00

If I write what it is I NEED to write about, I'd regret it.

CONVOLUTED

2010-09-15T06:55:00.007-05:00

Sometimes I think I'm certifiable. I feel like I'm bursting at the seams, mentally that is. I can't seem to shut my mind down, even in sleep. If anything, I almost feel like I'm most active when I'm asleep, coz I sometimes wake up exhausted.

[Speaking of certifiable, this dude definitely is. For all you automotive fiends - I'm looking at you, Nik - this is a must-see.]

But back to the lecture at hand, as Snoop would say.

See, I dream almost every night. Nothing scary though, thank God. Today's one of the rare instances when I can actually remember what I dreamed about. Some of it anyway.

I was extremely tired last night by the time I went to bed. Before I slipped into oblivion I glanced at the clock: 11:27. Then I was out soon after.

In the dream, I was in a classroom setting. For whatever reason, it felt like high school. Thing is though, this was no ordinary class - the teacher was none other than Gucci Mane. For the record, I don't like his music at all and I think he's a blithering idiot, so it was a heck of a surprise when I saw him standing there. He then asked us all to stand up. I thought we were going to recite the Anthem or something, but first he glanced over at the far corner of the classroom and nodded. I followed his gaze and lo and behold, DJ Sixth Sense was there with his turntables! The DJ hit the switches and 'So Icy' came on, and Gucci went on to perform the entire cut - in class!

Then, soon after, I was driving. I arrived at my destination, a facility of some sort. I was let in - I had a pass dangling on my neck, apparently - and ushered into a conference room. There were a dozen or so other people there, and the minute I stepped in the conference started. The subject was Perpetual Motion. [No surprise there, coz I've been obsessed with the subject lately] But the head geek who was doing most of the talking - and in a monotone, no less - was so boring that I started dozing off and eventually fell asleep.

I was awakened by a thump. The hippos - as I've dubbed them - in the apartment upstairs must've been walking around. I glanced over at the clock: it was 12.17am What! All that stuff had happened in a mere 45 minutes?! It felt at least 4 hours worth of stuff!

And then I fell back asleep and dreamed some more, only I don't remember what about. I think it involved a squirrel, more driving, a Salvador Dali painting and a green laser. Oh well, whatever.

Theme joint: Gorilla Zoe's Lost

THIRTY, PT. 2

2010-09-07T19:20:00.014-05:00

Previously on 'Thirty, Pt.1:'
The instant my hands grasped that slender frame it was all she wrote. Love? I didn't know. Lust? Definitely. Chemistry? Absolutely.

And now for part 2:

********************************

Even after the umpteenth celebratory tequila shot, my synapses were still firing full tilt. As I finally succumbed to fatigue that night, [well, morning] I lay awhile thinking about what I was feeling. It just didn't make any sense - I'd known this girl about a year and a half and we'd pretty much ignored each other the whole time. Then we dance one time and I'm feeling all this? Bullsh*t, I said to self. I laughed it off, blamed it on the alcohol and went to sleep, knowing that I'd be back to the old me when I got up.

I got up, stretched and, bleary-eyed, went to the kitchen to grab a glass of ice-cold water to quiet the drumming in my head. Glass in hand, I stepped out to the porch, hoping the frigid winter air would wake me up. I was sitting out there when she came out to find me, and I suddenly remembered I'd pledged I'd drive her home. Imagine my surprise when the feelings from the night before came flooding back at the very sight of her standing out there, arms around thin jacket, desperately trying to keep warm. And I knew then I liked her.

Now, when I'd made such pledges before, to drive someone home I mean, I'd always kicked myself later. There's nothing worse than having to drive someone you don't give two hoots about. But the moment I remembered I was driving her home, I felt like a freakin' genius, coz all a man usually needs is time, and lots of it. Getting a woman you like to like you is like landing a new job - you gotta put time into it.

And putting time in I did, lots of it. Though it was a 2.5 hour drive to her spot, we met up every weekend. EVERY weekend. At first I didn't know what I was doing. See, I knew I liked her, and I liked to drive, so driving that long just to be with her was no problem for me. All we did was chill [on separate couches even] and watch TV, movies, the Superbowl or walk around. She'd sleep in her room and I'd crash on the couch. She wasn't crazy or jealous, never raised her voice at me even when we disagreed, actually paid for some of our meals, and she could cook. Boy, could she ever! What do you know - I was actually attracted to a good girl for a change. It was so much easier, so much better, so much more stress-free hanging around someone like that, something I'd never before experienced.

A few weeks later, while getting some ice cream at DQ, I put my arm around her waist while we decided on which flavors to get. I hadn't touched her all this time save for the welcome-goodbye hugs, but this time the old feelings came crashing back with a vengeance. Better yet, she didn't pull away so I took my time ordering, if only to prolong the moment. And I knew then I wanted her.

But there was a problem - being with her meant a lot of people wouldn't be happy. There were people who liked her, people who liked me, people close to us, people who'd hate us if we'd gotten together. We both knew this so we resisted getting in too deep. But one day - and this is where I get back to being 30 - that all changed.

It was the day before my 31st birthday. I was talking to her on the phone when I had an epiphany: Getting with her was worth all the problems we'd inevitably face. This was the defining moment, the moment I'd gain everything - or lose everything, but I knew I had to do it. I'd never have said it if I'd been 20-something.

And I did: I asked her to be my girl. I'd never done it before, coz in the past the others had assumed we'd been together just because we'd been hanging out. I'm pretty good at beating around the bush, and I did just that then, but I eventually narrowed it down for her just so we'd be clear about what it is I was saying.

She didn't say anything for a while. It was no longer than maybe 30 seconds, but those were the longest moments of my life. And then she finally said:
"I could so see this coming."

But she didn't say yes or no. Not that night anyway. But the fact of the matter is that I asked her, and that's all that really matters.

And then one night when I went to see her as usual, she left her bedroom door open. I glanced over at the couch - she hadn't laid out the usual comforter for me. Hell yes.

They're right - life really does begin at 30.

Hot joint of the day: Chris Brown's Deuces

THIRTY, PT. 1

2010-09-01T20:24:00.013-05:00

I'm not working today, and neither am I tomorrow. Taking a well-deserved break from work. I'm content to just sit at home watching TV, surfin' the web whilst sippin' on some sizzurp. Maybe it's the Tequila that inspired this post, but I never post when I know I'm inebriated so this is probably me still. Or it isn't. In any case, here it is:

*********************************

There's something about the number 30.

Maybe there are 30 celestial bodies in our solar system, most yet undiscovered. Maybe there are 30 wonders of the world, not 7. Maybe there are 30 particles in the oxygen molecules' nuclei that we breathe in every instant, and we don't know that yet. Or maybe I've watched Matrix the movie 30 times, maybe. But there's something special about that number.

I'm over 30 and can truly say my mental faculties started operating when I turned 30. No surprise, then, that Jesus waited till he was 30 years old to do that which he came here to do, coz that's when life really begins. Yeah yeah, whatever, I can hear you say, but this is especially true for us males. The average woman is, between 25 and 30 years of age, as grown up as she'll ever be, but there are some men hovering around 40 that still don't have their shit together. A man's life begins at 30. Of course there are some exceptions to that, but that's usually how it works.

I cringe to think of some of the things I did when I was in my 20s. Frankly, I'm amazed I lived though it. I partied so much, wasted so much money, messed with so many people's feelings, told so many lies. But when I turned 30 I literally woke up one morning and felt like Johnny Nash coz I Could See So Clearly Now. Honest.

Case in point, I've cited over and over again, on this blog even, that I was hopelessly attracted to bad, dont-give-a-f*ck girls. They'd wreck shit up, cuss me out, key my car, slap me - all that. And I loved it, coz my lifestyle was similarly chaotic. They'd keep me guessing and I'd do the same; thrust and parry, thrust and parry. And then I turned 30 and was suddenly tired, so very tired, of it all. So tired was I, in fact, that I cut off anyone I'd been stringing along coz it just wasn't worth the trouble that came along with it.

Fast-forward a few months, and I met this one girl. She was nice, too nice. Knowing my distaste for good girls, I quickly shut her out. She ignored me too, but I was used to that. Which man isn't?

But then one night, around Christmastime I believe, we got trashed together. Not just she and I but a bunch of other people. And, as luck would have it, some other girl was there too, trying to make me jealous by grinding on some other dude, but I was actually relieved that the heat was off me and on him. [To self:] Oh Dee, you're such a dumbass. Did you think you could get off that easy? It was all for show!

But I digress. Where was I? Oh yes: The good girl and I got trashed together. She, especially, was hammered. [I learned later that I was much more tipsy than she, but this is my story and damnit, I'm sticking to it!]

Everyone was dancing with everyone else and it was all good, until she danced with me. The instant my hands grasped that slender frame it was all she wrote. Love? I didn't know. Lust? Definitely. Chemistry? Absolutely.

[To be continued.]

ps: Congrats, Lewis Hamilton, on the Belgian Grand Prix.

AUGUST RUSH

2010-08-31T06:13:00.002-05:00

Yeah, been gone for a spell there. A man must eat, and therefore must work. Truth be told, not much else has been going on.

Of course, there's the occassional douche I manage to stumble across every day. Like, see below. To sum this up, allow me to quote a discussion some years ago in some economics class:

Student: No, professor. I think the city's new parking spaces are way too small. It was never like that.
Professor: Have you considered that maybe you need to drive a smaller car?

And remember my post about the various eateries around the workplace? The other day I went to one of the delis and saw this sign there. Only an Asian would be so blunt. Love it.

Hot joint of the day:
Jazmine Sullivan's Holding You Down.

173K LATER

2010-08-16T17:31:00.010-05:00

The one and only CloudVillain requested it, so here it is. [I'm sure Rusty would appreciate this one.] And I'm sure Nik, the lucky bastard who gets to drive a Subie and a B13 [SE-R over here], would approve of this so here it is: updated photos of my beloved, much touted Lancer.

**********************************************

Here's proof that the Slo-zee is at around 173K miles. Surprisingly, it's still got the factory clutch, though its days are numbered. But like I said, I don't abuse the car, though I did, quite a bit, when the car was new.

And remember that temperature control knob I might've mentioned? Well, here it is. Oh, it looks fine, you say? Keep scrolling. Now you see it...

...now you don't. And in case you're wondering how I keep warm in the winter, I have to take the dash out, reach into the tangle of wires and roll this one wheel back or forth till I achieve the desired temperature. Another day in paradise.

And yeah, the driver's side floormat has seen better days. Funny, but all the other mats are pristine. But then again, few people ride with me. I wonder why.

The beloved lightweight OZ wheels are more than worse for wear. I can't get them clean; might have to paint them or something.

The plastic housing for the headlamps is getting all yellowy & cloudy. I saw this one commercial where I could use some paste to buff the discoloration out, but I haven't looked into it.

Here are some poorly camouflaged rust spots. As you can probably guess, not too much effort went into it.

Yup, the paint on the right C-pillar is fading fast. Uh, whatever.

Even the freakin' muffler/silencer is all rusted. Hope it passes inspection which is due - damnit! - next month. Hope it doesn't have a hole in it.
Pardon my reflection in a couple of pics, BTW.

Then, there's this horrid creaking in the suspension. I need new bushings and tie-rod ends. Again, whatever.

But enough about the bad stuff; here are a few of the fun:

Still have this sticker. Every other day in the rearview mirror, I see someone snickering and pointing at it.

The race seat has held up well so far. Took some getting used to, I must admit, but my derrière is finally used to it.

The Kenwood's still going strong. Despite the occasional hiccup, which only needs a stab at the reset button to resolve, it's performed flawlessly.

The subwoofers too are still going. Despite their different sizes, they're the same power rating. Puts out a curious blend of bass - tight & deep, just like I like it. [Don't read too much into that]
And yes, I need to reposition them. The.. ummm, sudden changes in direction seem to have pried them apart.

Easily one of the best modifications I've made - the aluminum short-shifter. Pure bliss.

Overall, the inside doesn't look too bad, I guess. But trust me, it rides a lot worse than it looks. Still, it works, and that's all I really care about.

And this, of course is the outside.

Well, there you have it. Hope this was at least remotely entertaining.

FLASHING OUT

2010-08-11T06:15:00.005-05:00

I don't know about you, but sometimes I feel like I've had it.

It's OK that we have to work, but all the other bullsh*t the average job comes with is sometimes ridiculous, often too difficult to deal with.

I sometimes get this nervous tick that lets me know I need to chill out. They don't want me angry. I don't want me angry.

I do realize there's no such thing as the perfect job, but sometimes you wanna go out guns blazing, fierce glint in the eye, in a way that will be remembered for a long, long time.

Like, some hotheaded girl who worked here some years ago one day, after an incident I shouldn't discuss, walked into my office and was like: "Peace out, Dee. I'm about to flash out." And just like that, she was gone. I love that.

Or this this girl. And this guy. Epic.

And now, off to listen to Ludacris' Slap.

ZIP, ZERO.

2010-08-10T08:10:00.002-05:00

I promise, there's no worse thing than suddenly getting hungry at 11pm, going to the fridge and finding absolutely nothing. Nada.

That ketchup looked mighty tasty. I may or may not have had some of it.

I LOVE YOU, SLO-Z.

2010-08-09T07:32:00.009-05:00

[This is a love letter to my car. I was driving in to work this morning when the inspiration hit me.]

*********************************************

You’re a b*tch. Don’t get me wrong – I mean that in the nicest possible way, coz you’re MY b*tch. You’ve cost me so much money - so many tickets, so much time, gave me so much heartache, but you’re still here.

Not to say you couldn’t have been gone – there were plenty of opportunities for that. When that angry lady in the minivan T-boned you at that intersection, I thought you were done for. When that silly girl dented your door when trying to park, you shrugged it off, albeit several hundred dollars later. Same as that one hit-n-run incident. But I almost lost you for sure when my so-called friend smacked your left against a concrete median at 80MPH. Truth be told, you never quite recovered from that; there’s always something wrong with your front left wheel.

Your temperature control knob doesn’t work anymore, neither does the door to the fuel tank – I have to pry that open. Your paintwork is shot to hell. Your wheels are faded. You creak and rattle something fierce. To top it all off, you’re slow as hell. Wait, what’s that noise? What’s broken now?

But I love you. Yeah, I said it – I do. I know I was afraid to love you for the longest time, for fear you'd be taken from me. But I’m not afraid anymore. It's better to love, even if for a little while.

Every morning I put my key in your ignition, I never have the slightest doubt you’ll start. You always do, except that one morning when your battery called it quits. Of course, I take care of you – always warm you up, lubricate you with Mobil 1, fresh, sticky tires - that kind of thing, but that doesn’t mean sh*t; you can choose not to start. But you always do.

I never abuse you, but you’re always running at 85%-plus, so I’m always surprised when I look down at the odometer and see 173,000 miles. You’ve lasted longer than I ever imagined, but it seems you’re getting even better. Don’t get me wrong - you’re nowhere as fast as I wish you were, but I’m learning that it’s much more fun to drive the hell out of an underpowered car than drive slow in a car with tons of power.

Every time I grab that aluminum shift knob I got you all those years ago, you never cease to send ripples of pleasure up my arm. Every time. Your steering is super-communicative – I can almost feel it when one of your wheels goes over a pebble. I’ve learned how hard you can corner, how quickly you brake, at what rev range you respond the quickest – 3000–5500 RPM. I guess what I’m trying to say is that, after all these years, I think we’ve learned each other, and have gotten used to it.

Don’t be jealous of that pretty Mazda. True, she's a looker. She’s quicker than you in every way, handles better, brakes quicker, all that stuff. She may be better on paper, but I love only you.

Matter of fact, I miss you already. What time do I get off work today? I can’t wait to start you up, roll your windows all the way down while you’re warming up, click the seatbelt in place. In these temperatures I have to wait for your shifter to cool off – it gets unbearably hot. But that’s OK, coz I know all your quirks, all your idiosyncrasies, and I’m perfectly OK with them.

Later on, when we’re cruising home, speakers bumping in the trunk, both hands on the wheel, then we’ll really pillow-talk.

********************************************

OMG! I can’t believe I’ve actually waxed poetic over a freaking car!

Joint of the day: Gyptian ft Nicki Minaj. This joint is FIRE.

ORNITHOLOGICAL. DEFINITELY.

2010-08-05T23:03:00.003-05:00

Good God! What was I on when I filmed this sh*t?!

DON'T JUST SIT - DO.

2010-08-03T19:46:00.008-05:00

And now, a quick pictorial update. You know how I do.

***********************************************

*sigh* I'm getting lazy. All I do after work is this: sit on the couch, catch up with my geek/car stuff on the web & watch TV. At least I did this today, for the first time in months.

What can I say - I can't seem to get away from traffic violations. I see they're real sneaky in the Baltimore area, taking pictures & sh*t. The tag was clearly displayed - amazing photography in what must've been milliseconds, and at night too. *sigh* I really need to slow my ass down.

Hands down the best movie I've seen this year, maybe ever. I mean that. Go ahead, watch it. It'll f*ck with your mind.

Shawty looking like a little boy in my clothes. I would've posted some of the other poses she attempted to strike, but I'd be a dead man.

Lil' cuz during her short modeling stint. Word to the wise: Modeling agencies are the devil.

Have a good hump-day. Literally, hopefully.

RELAXED MIND, CONSCIENCE FREED

2010-08-01T19:01:00.008-05:00

Nothing makes one grow more than adversity. It's only when faced with real problems do we make real advancements.

Consider, for instance, the prehistoric human. For centuries we lived off the earth and had few problems in spite of the occasional territorial battle, famine, etcetera. Some people tired, or more likely got scared, of those challenges, and decided to wander about looking for greener pastures, literally. Then, when everyone's all scattered around the then-contiguous terra firma, God sent, [this part is pure speculation] in 2012 BC, a payload of high-energy neutrinos that triggered immense volcanic activity resulting in tectonic plates drifting apart, forming what we now call continents.

In an instant, some dude who was soaking up the rays in the equator, sipping on cow-milk from a gourd suddenly, after the earth stopped moving beneath his feet, found himself in 51.30 N latitude 0.7 W longitude, ie. London, England. It was raining all the time and cold as sh*t there, something he was unaccustomed to. His pigmentation even began to lighten due to the absence of the sun's rays, much to his horror. He didn't even have a dentist anymore so his grill got really jacked up. [Sorry Brits, couldn't resist that one. You colonized us, so shut up]

But soon he was faced with some very real problems that, if he'd left unaddressed, would've exterminated him. The survival instinct kicked in and he built a house from wood, which was a better insulator than brick or earth from the elements.

The rain pissed him off, so he stretched a piece of hide across some twigs and made an umbrella.

Then, some young, homeless dude named Bobby Peterson, or BP for short, was cold as sh*t one afternoon. He started digging a tunnel in the lowlands to snuggle in, but the deeper he dug the more he smelled something weird. He couldn't see what it was coz it was dark down there, so he went and came back with a stolen candle. While curiously examining the thick, dark-ish, greasy fluid, the candle inadvertently slipped from his frostbit fingers and landed on the stuff which promptly ignited, in the process giving off enormous BTUs [not that he called them that back then; he probably at first yelled out: Bollocks!] of heat. Getting some feeling back in his fingers again, he dug some more and found out there was a seemingly inexhaustible supply of the 'burn-so-hot' stuff oozing from the ground. So he bottled it, showed its properties to the the townspeople who started buying from him. Now they call it crude oil.

Not that I'm a pundit in African or world history; for all I know I'm probably grossly misinformed. But I do know this: when faced with problems that could very well wipe you out, that's when you're at your most resourceful.

So go on, good people, and put yourself out there. Necessity is the mother of invention. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. [Let's see - can I recall another proverb that fits the bill? Oh, how about this one:] A penny saved is a penny gained. Wait, that doesn't fit. Oh well.

BATSH*T

2010-07-28T22:46:00.006-05:00

I don't know why it's so much fun scaring the living daylights out of your passenger while driving. Of course, you have to know what you're doing otherwise you and the immediate terrain will get really acquainted.

A few weeks ago I was the [un]fortunate passenger in my boy V^6's turbo-ed Vee-Dub GTI, now equipped with launch control, and I'll tell you what - I was scared sh*tless. Words aren't enough to explain what it's like to experience the GTI at full gallop. It's kinda like being punched in the guts, then being steamrolled over. Or, in the eloquent words of Motortrend magazine, being kicked in the ass a spit-second before being shot from a cannon. Un-f*cking-believable.

Case in point: Jason Plato is a British Touring Car veteran as well as the co-host of Fifth Gear, right alongside the sometimes over-enthusiastic-over-cars Tiff Needell. Jason is a wizard behind the wheel [see proof here] but Tiff, his co-host, is downright nuts. So bonkers is he, in fact, that he scares the hell out of Mr. Plato. Granted, Tiff's driving the new 911 Turbo, capable of doing 0-60 in 2.8 seconds. To put things in perspective, your Corolla will do that in 9 seconds. Are you beginning to understand just how insanely fast this new Porsche is? See Plato's reaction for yourself, here. Hilarious.

SWEET VICTORY

2010-07-21T20:28:00.003-05:00

What a week, what an MF-ing week. Biggest, most intense project I've ever done is finally complete. Been working on it since last Wednesday.

Where the Tequila at? F*ck that - off to bed.

EVERYTHING'S BETTER FRIED

2010-07-14T07:23:00.010-05:00

[I forgot how much fun this used to be. As you'll soon see, if you didn't know it already, I'm quite the nerd.]

Last Thursday I was chilling at the crib watching something online when..... nothing. My PC called it quits, just like that. Ain't that a b*tch. What's worse, I loved that thing, which is the only PC I'd ever bought. I mean, look at it, below.

Its overall dimensions are so neat & tidy, and that's the sole reason I got it. But there was one vital flaw in my logic: smaller electronics are expensive.

I hate working on the laptop unless I absolutely positively have to, so I tried to see what was wrong with it, and finally narrowed it down to a fried motherboard. Easy enough. But then I went online to find one and almost fell off the seat - those suckers are expensive! As in new-PC-expensive, and that was just for the motherboard! Of course there was some dude in China who had it for like $80, but my relationship with Chinese Ebay-ers has deteriorated over the years. Let's just say I'm still waiting on a package I ordered 3 years ago.

Dejected, I went over to Micro Center, my favorite computer store by far, hoping to stumble across that pesky little motherboard, when I had an epiphany: PC years are like dog years, only thrice as short, so why not build a new one? Not only would it be much faster, but I've gained enough knowledge over the years to build a kick-ass one.

And thus began the adventure.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Here's a shot of the older, fried motherboard. [The processor is still good, BTW. Anyone stateside need an AMD Athlon 64 X2 4800+?]

And here is its replacement. To the practiced eye, it's a much better board.

This is the chaos that eventually ensued. There was stuff everywhere.

In a couple of hours, the new system was ready for testing. It's a lot easier when you actually know what you're doing, as I discovered. Back then it took me days to get it done.

And voilà! All systems are go!

Oh, and I also took the opportunity to finally get Windoze 7. The 64-bit version of course, since the new motherboard can utilize 8 gigs of RAM. Sweetness.

And that concludes this geeky interlude. Back to the regular stuff.

N.K.

2010-07-08T06:34:00.003-05:00

North Korea is an intriguing place. For one, most of us - or just I for that matter - don't know two things about the country except that they have this fearless little leader with balls of steel, and that they're developing a universally disapproved nuclear program.

I've heard a lot of rumors about some of the things that go on over there, but the truth of the matter is that few know for sure. North Korea is a veritable Bermuda Triangle on terra firma. But that doesn't stop people speculating and making fun of the unknown, like some cat did in this video below.

Oh, and I learned one more thing - the policewomen over there are really hot.

[And yes, I need to learn more HTML, if only to make the clip fit properly]

PART OF THE LIST

2010-07-06T21:07:00.003-05:00

Life's the great teacher, they say. Ain't that the truth - been taught a lesson or two these past couple of months, which is part of the reason I've been nowhere to be found lately. But things are changing and they're quite interesting. Sometimes anyway.

For one, these days I get up and the sun's actually out. I know that's because it's summertime, but nothing beats waking up to natural light.

Then, I've made a habit of eating breakfast for a change, and that makes all the difference in the world. For the life of me, I don't know how I managed all those years without breakfast, and on one lousy meal a day too.

And now for the best part: I can finally choose how to get to work most days. Will it be the quiet, nimble Mazda or the loud, creaky Mitsubishi with 2 ginormous speakers in the trunk? It's great to be able to choose. Now that's what I'm talking about.

Then, at work, I hardly realize I'm working these days coz I'm fully absorbed in my music. With Kanye West's new album around the corner, Eminem's & Drake's new ones blazing the charts, Luda acting a fool as always, not to mention fresh new talent like J. Cole, Bruno Mars, Janelle Monae & B.O.B., the workday is pretty much in my subconscious these days. Now that's really what I'm talking about.

All in all, ladies and gentlemen, sh*t is coming together. Wish me luck that I stay the course, and that I get back to blogging on the regular like I used to. My bad to everyone who's tried to holla at me and I was M.I.A. - I owe you one.

ALL THINGS VEHICULAR

2010-04-26T09:04:00.006-05:00

Nice parking job, douche!

And that goes for you too. I know it's prom season & errthang, and that you have a stretched caddy and all, but damn!

Had to go see the 2010 'Speed3 in the flesh. It isn't exactly a looker, not to mention the generous splatter of bird poop on the side, but it's what's under the hood that really matters. Sometimes the ugliest things are the most beautiful inside, and vice-versa.

And speaking of Mazda: Oh sh*t - the aforementioned Mazda 3 now has Virginia Tags! Gee, I wonder why.

Finally grew tired of the Lancer's toothless visage and put in a new grille. Never mind the busted paintwork.
Here are shots before....

..during....

...and after. Looks light years better.

Some idiot neighbor traded in his 2009 Dodge Challenger SRT8 for a BMW 750i. What! The BMW is nice, for sure, but nothing screams badass-ness like an SRT8. I mean, look at the testosterone-inducing, adrenalin-pumping Challenger below...

...and compare it to the cheese-and-cracker blandness of the Bimmer.
No contest. But maybe that's just me.

*****************************

Throwback Hip-Hop verse of the day:

" On the platinum Yamaha with the engine gunnin'
Throw it up like liquor on an empty stomach
Y'all hear nothin'?
Who that, Mac?
No dawg, that's M. Bleek comin'..."

Jay-Z in Change The Game

STEP BY STEP

2010-03-30T22:59:00.006-05:00

[I've become quite the potty-mouth, but I'm trying to be better, so I'll try and keep this post as profane-free as I possibly can.]

Tonight, I mourn for lost friends everywhere, for anyone. And, more specifically, mine.

What's worse though is that they're still here, alive and well. Losing a friend to death sucks for sure, but the inevitability of death makes us realize they're gone for good and accelerates the 7-stage grief process. But it's worse when they're alive and well, but don't give a damn about you. Right now I'm at... let's see: I'm past Denial, Guilt, Anger, and am now at the Depression stage, I guess.

I'll spare you the sordid details but, in a nutshell, it all started over some really trivial sh... I mean, stuff. That's not the point - a lot of relationships are broken over some unbelievably silly things. Thing is, if the warring parties are truly friends such things are merely bumps that are gotten over in a flash.

Like, I've argued quite violently in the past with some of my friends, but we've always made up in no time. Hmmm, let's see...

[This is an excerpt from a phone conversation]
"F you!" she said.
"F you too!" I said.
"Forget you! Forget about me!" she said.
"Fine!" I said.

Silence.

"OK, don't forget about me yet," she said.
"I wouldn't," I said.

And that was it - we were friends again. Or how about this other one:

"What the f*** is your problem?!" I said.
"You better get off it or I'll kick your ass!" he said. [He could too]
"You know what, I ain't got time for this sh*t!" I yelled, and walked out the room.
A minute later I walked back into the room.
"Still on for Happy Hour?" I said.
"Hell yes!" he said.

And that was it.

You see where I'm going with this? That's what friendship is all about. But back to my mourning.

I used to go see my friends once, twice, three times a month [pun intended] over a 10-or-so-year period. How many times did they come to see me during that same period, with the exception of one of them? Once. No, I didn't stutter - once.

And believe it or not, as ludicrous as this may now seem, one of them once expressed their interest in coming over to see me but was unable to - or was unwilling - to expend the energy. So you know what I did? I drove 2 hours, picked them up, brought them back to my house, spent the night, then drove them back the next day. But I didn't mind it. I was just happy that my friend got to see my spot, that's all. But see, that might be my problem right there - I'd do anything for my friends.

But the rest of the story goes like this: I met this person who believed in me, who made me think I was the handsomest, smartest person in the world, with unlimited potential. [Liar! Kidding] This person pushed, encouraged, threatened me to go back to school and work my ass off, and I listened. I went back to school, worked my butt off, and have been doing so ever since. But that meant that I had little or no time to go see my other friends as frequently as I used to, and that escalated the beef I already had with them.

I've been over once or twice [in like 2 years] to see them, but has anyone come over to check on yours truly? Nope. For all they know I could be dead, and I realize now that I'm dead to them. Only one of them checks up on me on the regular, and has always done so. Not only that, but he's driven 3 hours over to come hang out a bunch of times. And for that he's my homie for life. Now that's friendship.

On to Stage 5.

IN THE ZONE

2010-03-24T22:01:00.004-05:00

Remember my February post about how we of the 'year-round tan variety' are musically inclined? Apparently we start young.

I'm now convinced we were put on the planet to give everybody else the WTF face. For real tho, negroes do the craziest sh*t.

*****************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"...I fill her up - Balloons!
Test her and guns get drawn like cartoons
DOH!
But I ain't talkin' 'bout Homer
Chick so bad the whole crew wanna bǿne her"

Luda in My Chick Bad

SAME OLD SAME, DAMN NEAR INSANE.

2010-03-16T09:55:00.004-05:00

To whoever made this: thank you.
These are my sentiments exactly, coz working is all I do these days. But what to do. Gotta eat.

B.H.M.

2010-02-11T19:40:00.005-05:00

Finally, it's Black History Month!
[I know, the shortest month of the year]

In years past I've had several fiery black-related posts, mostly pertaining to the things we need to change about ourselves. This year tho, I'll flip it on y'all, and talk about the things I love about being black. Let's, for a minute, forget our bling-loving, chrome rims-coveting, bluetooth-toting, sunglasses-in-club-wearing selves and talk about the good things about being black:

- Rhythm: It's no secret that we've got it - we can dance our asses off. And in time to the music too. Like, it amused me to no end watching my Caucasian counterparts attempting to do Young Joc's 'It's Going Down' dance and failing miserably. Or, when's the last time you saw anyone who wasn't black attempt dancing to Lingala, except a few white West-African [French?] honeys?

- Athleticism: It's a well-known fact that we dominate virtually every sport we seriously attempt to be good at. It doesn't matter what it is - we'll excel in it. American Football: conquered it. Basketball: excelled in it, despite certain closed-door jokes that NBA stands for No Brains Allowed. Watching Usain Bolt blur his way around the track only reinforces this. Now, if only our black asses could get accustomed to winter and water sports...

- Church: Black people love God. There's something in us that just succumbs to The Man. We reverberate, and respond to, things of the Spirit.

- Music/Soul: Where do I even begin? Black people are so musically inclined it's ridiculous. We revolutionized music, changing it from boring, ballroom, elevator-type sleep-inducing chords to joints that make people wanna strut their stuff on the dance floor.

- Swag: Think Will Smith in the first Men in Black when he said that he made it look good. That's nothing but truth - no one's got more swag than we do. Not to be confused with being showy, though there's a fine line between the two. Swag is more confidence than it is boastfulness.
For instance, look at Obama. Dude's got swag like no other prez before him. Maybe that's why they called him an elitist. No, douchebags, that's swag for your triflin' ass.

- Ass: *sigh* I love the booty. It makes everything on a woman so much better. There might be something hardwired into the black man's dome that has the propensity to covet a good-sized booty, coz some of my white friends don't care much for it, but Lord knows I do. The bubble is where it's at, and there's no booty like black booty. Even better is African or Jamaican booty.
[For an extreme example fellas, Google/Bing Angel Lola Luv. Thank me later.]

- Humor: Hands down, black people are the funniest on the planet, bar none. Do I even need to explain this one?

- Resilience: To quote something I once heard:
It almost passes human understanding how a people can be so socially despised, yet artistically esteemed; so degraded yet culturally influential. In short, we're some tough SOBs. Give us lemons & we make lemonade. Give us pig or chicken feet and we learn to love them. Colonize us for decades and we kick your ass out eventually; enslave us and we break ourselves free.

What more can I say? I'm more than comfortable in my own skin. Love yourself, whatever color you are. It's our differences that keep this zoo exciting.

**********************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"See I am the Doctor Spock and I'd like to say hello
Uh to the black to the white, the red and the brown
The purple and yellow..."

Def Squad in Rappers Delight

WHITE-HOT? NAH, WHITE-COLD.

2010-02-11T11:25:00.005-05:00

[Seems like I don't have time to do anything anymore. Jeez!]

I f*ing hate snow. I can't even begin to explain how much. True, you get days off work or school, but that's about the only virtue of a snowstorm, to me anyway. Being indoors for days meant the cabin fever was vicious - I was going insane.

It all started last Friday when someone sent me this:

So I went straight to the crib after work that day. The stuff had just started to fall.

2 days later I stepped out the apartment and saw this. Believe me, there's a walkway underneath. Those are my tracks you see - I was knee-deep in the stuff.

A day later I trudged to the parking lot, and there was Slo-Z all buried. Sucked to be me.

But I rolled the sleeves up & dug her out. That was my workout for the week.
.
Did I say it sucked to be me? No, it sucks to be this dude.
He ain't getting out till Spring, it seems like.

So there you have it. But I can at least get out the house now and walk around.
And Al Gore can go kiss my ass.

***************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"...Make your ass quiver
like you naked at winter..."

Lil' Wayne in David Banner's 9mm

ZOOM-ZOOM

2010-01-24T12:10:00.007-05:00

*Sigh* Now this is a thing of beauty.

*************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"We started out broke, constantly on the road
Cuttin' up in the streets like we would never get old
Went from Lucy's and buses, to fifty cent sodas
And Novas to Hondas to Lexus to Rovers..."

Rah Digga in Flipmode Squad's I know What You Want

"ALLOW ME TO RE-INTRODUCE MYSELF..."

2010-01-13T16:53:00.009-05:00

Happy New Year y'all. Can't believe I've been gone so long, not just from the blog but the web too. Had to handle some business real quick, but I'm back now with a vengeance. Plus, I've only one class this semester - I too am in a recession of sorts - so I really got nothing but time.

So much has been going on, for real. Trying to detail it all would be a hopeless exercise in futility, but I took a few bad pics along the way so that'll help me break it down a little:

**************************

I forget what I was devouring around Christmastime, but next thing I knew I'd broken a tooth, and a molar at that. Hurt like a mug, needless to say. So I waited as long as I could before going to the dentist's. [I'm convinced every dentist is a sadist of sorts. Never been to any dentist's and gone out thinking: That wasn't so bad - never. It's always terrible.]

I knew I had to see a dentist pronto one afternoon when, while at lunch, I could hardly chew on on some noodles. Noodles! It really hurt that bad. So I went a couple of days later and after X-Ray-ing the sh*t outta me, dude told me I needed five teeth fixed. Read: filled. I was like: Hell no, pull the mofos out. Besides, they were all molars or premolars, and it's not like I sometimes need to gnaw on bones or tree-barks.

I didn't want to incapacitate myself so we [well, he] decided to work on one side and pull 3, then pull the other 2 out another day. Then he promptly proceeded to shoot me up with anesthesia and rolled this into the room right by me.

I mean, WTF! Were those tools of torture supposed to make me feel better about the whole thing? Good Lord!
I wish I could say it went well, but it was terrible. Today, an entire week plus later, is the first time I feel remotely like my former self. More on that later.

Then, the car decided to lose some of its body parts too, like its owner. It was a windy day when that part of the grille snapped off. Or maybe it finally succumbed to high speeds.

As usual, I managed to squeeze in a visit to the local bookstore. I thought I'd read every last book by Koontz, but this one doesn't ring a bell. Ever bought a book only to realize, a third of the way in, that you'd read it before? Happens to me all the time - a major buzzkill. So annoying.

Been working my ass off lately too. I lucked out and not only do I do design work, but I also do a lot of putting stuff together, which makes it that much better. Being tethered to the computer all day long sucks balls. Plus, I like working with my hands. Take that any way you will.

But anyway, I was making some nameplates for one of our regulars and the names were rather interesting. Hmm, I wonder whether a lot of black people work for that company.

And here's another. People got jokes.

Remember sometime back when I told y'all about how I'd stuck my finger messing with a paper shredder and thought it was pretty bad? Wrong. THIS is bad. My girl C wins this one, hands down. Youch.

And oh yeah, it's been cold as f*ck. Global warming, my ass - they need to come up with a better theory. Or is that a better money-making scam? Yeah, I said it. I like my cars running on fossil fuel, thank you very much. And skip the catalytic converter. Won't need that.

But anyway, the path to my crib from the parking lot was covered in snow, but management had come thru with their snow-blower and cleared a path for everybody. How thoughtful.

They could've at least been kind enough to save my doormat though. Yes, those black chunks you see are what used to be my mat; the blower chewed it right up. Gee, thanks.

This year the company Christmas party was held on-site. I still had some work to do so I snuck off to finish it. If every workday were like that one, I'd be good!

And this was around New Year's at a house-party. Truth be told, there wasn't much of this - and more - left after, even that horrid Burnett's. And you might guess correctly, from the abundance of sweet, chocolatey drinks, that there were lots of ladies at the bash.

Not surprisingly, I guess, I worked on the car some. Here I'm studying the condition of an old spark plug I'd taken out prior to 'plugging' in a new one.

And speaking of studying, here is an accountant studying tax numbers. Never could do numbers - hate 'em. But I thrive in Physics, which is mostly numbers and concepts, go figure.

And this is definitely the last bit about studying - this is from last semester's Electronics class, an [extremely mean] electric motor from California's primary people-mover, a Toyota Prius. And don't let the Prius' bland exterior fool you; it really is quite brilliant in how it works. Borders on virtual reality.

After all these years of not cooking at all, or even having the desire to, I wanted some of these so bad I actually made them myself. Granted, this may not even qualify as a meal in its simplicity, but you gotta start somewhere, right?

It still amazes me that I can look at these creepy-crawlies swimming about in a tank, and still go and eat them. But the real sicko was the first one who looked at a lobster and actually wanted to eat it. What was he/she on?! They don't look appetizing in the least!

Whew, that took a good minute. But I'm back, baby. 2010, let's go!

*******************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"I love your sushi roll, hotter than Wasabi
I'm racing for your love, shake-n-bake, Ricky Bobby..."

Drake in Young Money's BedRock

DRUMROLL PLEASE

2009-12-17T07:19:00.005-05:00

Whew! Last day of finals is [finally] here! Dreading today's tho, some electronics shiznit.

I dislike exams as much as the next guy, but some finals actually try and help you out. Like, one of them was an open-book test. Open-book?! What a ridiculous concept:
"Here, take this test. And here's the textbook - the answers are somewhere in there. Find them."

Of course, it's not quite that easy; they trick you with the way the questions are phrased. And it usually goes something like this, and this is an extremely elementary example:

Technician A says the car's engine directly powers an automatic transmission. Tech B says the transmission directly drives the wheels in a RWD. [Rear Wheel Drive.] Which technician is correct?

a. Tech A
b. Tech B
c. Both A & B
d. Neither A nor B

If you're curious, I'll give you the correct answer. It might surprise you.

Meanwhile, I'll attack my overstuffed inbox and actually do some work. Of course, I'll take a few self-imposed breaks and watch clips like these. Talk about dates from hell.

************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"I like 'em brown yellow Puerto Rican or Persian
Dashiki kimono or turban..."

Kanye West in Jamie Foxx's Digital Girl remix

MURKY

2009-12-07T22:13:00.004-05:00

The male mind is, to put it simply, an oasis. Or, more correctly, it fancies itself an oasis - an oasis that mermaids [read: women] are irresistibly drawn to, that have an infinite amount of confiscated booty and a sh*tload of of aged rum. Sounds mighty attractive, doesn't it KK?

I need to take that notion and tuck it away inside some tiny box, along with silly suppositions like girls don't fart & salesmen don't lie, then throw that box into the depths of the ocean - or in the toilet bowl. [It'd probably end up in the same place anyway.]

And in case you're wondering why I'm in such a seemingly befuddled mood, I'm right now all Nyquil-ed out. Flus suck ass; hope I don't have medicine-head tomorrow.

And this doggone semester is almost over with, thank God. Come find me the weekend of the 18th and I'm buying shots. Word.

AND WE DON'T STOP...

2009-11-18T22:54:00.005-05:00

Praise be! Mr. Ericsson is back! Allow me to explain:

My cellie has been acting weird for a while now. It all started while taking footage of my boy V^6 blasting his crazy-fast Vee-Dub down the dragstrip - the camera feature wouldn't work. Maybe the decibel levels, not to mention the hydrocarbons in the air, were to blame. I disassembled and reassembled Mr. Ericsson, threatened, cajoled, sweet-talked it to full functionality, all to no avail - the camera wouldn't work.

Well, today I had an epiphany. I went to Sony Ericsson's website and downloaded and installed the phone's latest firmware. But not before completely backing up my contacts and the texts I needed saved - I'm not a complete bonehead. I've done that before tho and lost all phone #s and stuff, but I know better now. Once bitten, twice shy, they say.

And would you know it, the phone's now good as new! Everything works as it should, and I wasted no time snapping away at anything in my sights. Like, this was during one of my breaks from work.

And this I took while in class tonight. Notice the [apparent] complexity of the subject matter; it can be rather difficult to absorb after a long workday.

But who cares - I finally have a camera of sorts! Still haven't replaced the 'real' camera, which is still sorely missed - and this will, meanwhile, make it all better.

Maybe, in my next life, I should be a photographer. Preferably, dear Vishnu, taking pics of swimsuit models all year long.

************************

Hip-Hop phrase of the day:

"I just had an epiphany, I need to go to Tiffany's
Fendi on my slippers and my cookies always slippery..."

Nicki Minaj in Yo Gotti's 5-Star Chick

WATER WATER EVERYWHERE...

2009-11-13T08:54:00.002-05:00

Figures. Just as I got done with this one pain-in-the-ass project and the weekend's finally here, I look out the window for the first time in days and harsh reality sets in - it's nasty out there. Come to think of it, it's been cold and rainy for days. Sh*t, I don't even think I've seen the sun all week!

Of course that could be a problem, and it is. Plus, it'll keep raining a few more days. I guess I'm sentenced to another weekend stuck indoors marinating on the couch, exercising my thumb, switching channels. *sigh* I need a life.

Hmmm, maybe I could browse through the phone and find something to get into, if you catch my drift. Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all. But maybe not. Only if it were back in my wilder, conscience-free days. Oh well, it is what it is, I guess.

Y'all have a good weekend, and that's an order!

***************************

Hip-Hop verse for the weekend:

"...And if he cries, I know how to control that
Give him some bottles of this Conjure cognac
Just to shut him up
She said you wasn't half the man I am-
-so I guess he had to double up..."

Ludacris in Letoya Luckett's Regret

IT DON'TSTOP, IT DON'T QUIT

2009-11-10T22:55:00.005-05:00

Good Lord!! Where does the time go?! Like Melanie Fiona says, It Kills Me! At this rate I'll be 75 in no time, boyish as ever, hitting on skimpily-clad associates at the nursing home!

Sidebar: I'll be damned if I'm one day sent to a nursing home. It's one short step up from a looney bin, it seemed - that's when I visited such an establishment. The very sight of incapacitated and unloved geriatrics damn near broke my sometimes-fragile-but-will-kick-your-ass-any-day heart.

Speaking of age, school has a way of aging yours truly. I especially hate that damned homework. The image below very accurately depicts how it really is. [Courtesy of GraphJam.com]

Best believe I'll be back to blogging, vull vorce, in a few, soon as I get this one godforsaken project off my back.

**********************

[C-Villain - you'll be happy to know this section's back!]

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"Used to bomb you like Saddam but now that I’m a lil' calmer
I'm a f*cking cross between Osama, Dahmer, Obama and Dalai Lama
Tell Miley I'm her knight in shining armor..."

Eminem in BET's The Cypher, 2009.

WHYs

2009-10-25T21:12:00.010-05:00

Why do I like the dimpled so much,...

... or this guy's lyrics, as big a douche as he is?

Why do I dream about this all day?

And this?

Why are people so inherently evil?

And others so cool?

Why do most radio DJs butcher Beyonce's Ego song and not play the last part which, to me, is the best? Infuriating.

How are some people freakin' hilarious...

... and others without a sense of humor to save their lives?

Why are things so easy,...

... yet so hard?

Jadakiss, Why?

--------------------

Oh well, why worry about it? What am I gonna do about it anyway?

*****************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"If you could feel how my face felt -
You would know how Mace felt
Thank God I ain't too cool for the safe belt..."

Kanye West in Through The Wire

RESPUESTA

2009-10-20T21:52:00.002-05:00

Hot damn! Never been away from the blog his long, never! No wonder I’ve harbored this strange emptiness these past few weeks. Naturally, a quick update is in order:

My boss’ son, who recently only turned 15, wanted to go to Hooters for his birthday claiming that, and I quote, “he likes the wings there.” WTF? There’s only one reason people [read: men] go to Hooters – to ogle at skimpily-clad ‘waitresses.’ And as I recall, my body at 15 was a volatile concoction of pheromones and dirty thoughts, and Hooters is the perfect environment to foster new fantasies.

And they actually took him there, go figure.

Comcast sucks. I signed up for a TV/Internet package and their punk asses signed me up for a different, and more expensive, plan. Seeing how militant I am about my money, I called them up and they were [apparently] apologetic, all ready and willing to give me a refund. Have I seen a check from them since, and that was a month ago? Nada.
Oh, and they’d told me that they’d bring me a cable box. Did they ever, even though they were supposed to bring it over 2 weeks ago? You guessed it – nope.

On another note, why are girls so warm, body temperature-wise, I mean? You don’t need a heater when a woman’s around, for real. I could’ve sworn that body glowed red in the wee hours of the morning; such was the [virtual] inferno. I wish I’d had an infra-red scope; she probably would’ve seemed a green-white blob through it – that hot

Soon as she was gone the entire apartment, and especially the bed, became an icebox. And it’s been an icebox since.

Thank God for women, as miserable as they make us.

WORKS CITED

2009-09-28T15:56:00.006-05:00

Sometimes I think I'm an idiot. Whatever happened to my natural-born Kenyan hustle? Allow me to explain:

My appetite for reading material [fiction, for the most part] is voracious. When I first discovered libraries I thought I was in virtual heaven: with a free library card I could go home with any book? How ridiculously amazing is that? So I attacked the fiction shelves alphabetically, no less. I wasn't working or going to school then so I had all day, and best believe I lived in the library. I'd get into the Quiet Room at noon and leave much later. I read a book a day, seriously.

In a few short months I'd exhausted the tiny library's inventory. School and work started soon after and I didn't have as much time to kill, so I joined the largest library in the area, assuming they had more inventory. And they did. Not only that, but they sold used novels at the ridiculous rate of $.50 each. Fifty cents?! Sweetness! So I'd go get 10-20 books at a time, and life was just dandy.

It only took 3 trips to the library before I realized I had a major problem - I was accumulating too many books. The shelf quickly filled up and I started stacking them floor to ceiling. Fortunately, some girl who worked next to my workplace was as voracious a reader as I, if not more so, and we'd swap books all the time like it was dope. I'd go to her crib or she to mine, or at work, and we'd pop the whips' trunks and swap trash-bagfuls of them joints. Plus, she knew this one place where she could trade or sell books for 50 cents, so I was good. All too soon tho, she had to move to another state and I was again stuck with the problem of having too many damn books.

So I stopped reading as much, if only to keep my bedroom floor book-free. I still bought the occasional book from the grocery or drugstore, but they're [comparatively] expensive there.

And then I discovered Borders, and it was a wrap. The sheer volume of books, brand new titles especially, was mind-blowing. But then I learned real quick that new books, when they first come out, are only in hardcover, not paperback. I don't give a sh*t about hardcovers; I'm more interested in a book's content - and its price. So while brand-spanking-new paperbacks could go for $8.00, their thick-skinned counterparts can go for as much as $30. That's way too much for a book I'll only read once.

So, back to the issue of my lost hustle: I've been patiently waiting for Dan Brown's latest, The Lost Symbol. I went to Borders yesterday to check it out and it was finally available - for about $30, no less. But then it hit me like a thunderbolt: Why not grab the book, find a nice comfy seat, read as much of it as I could then put it back on the shelf?

And so I did just that. And as far as I can tell, that's what I'll be doing from now on with books I know I'll only read once. I know a good number of you probably do this already, but I can't believe it just recently occurred to me. I so feel like an idiot!

Matter of fact, I gotta go back right now and read a couple more chapters; the plot's got me already.
Later y'all. Be true to yourself.

*****************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"She be jumpin' up and down tryin' to fit that a$$ in
Took her half an hour just to get that belt to fasten..."

Drake in Young Money's Every Girl

CHOCOLATE NEWS

2009-09-18T07:04:00.017-05:00

And now, the news:

This past Sunday, after watching Kanye [literally] steal Taylor Swift's show, I knew this and last week were exceptionally tumultuous to celebrities of the tanned variety, i.e. black. Interesting, to say the least.

Not only did Kanyeazy get all remorseful on Jay Leno's new show the following day, but Obama called him "a jackass" on tape. Talk about a presidential bitch-slap. I know he felt that one, as much as he loves Obama. But the real culprit in this is the snitch of a reporter who Tweeted what O had just said off camera. Tweeter's getting everybody in trouble these days.
Lesson to learn: Lay off the Yak.

Then, Michael Jordan goes off at his Hall of Fame acceptance speech, dissing his coach for cutting him from varsity. Ooohweee! He probably used that as fuel to be better. But he should know that, and be thankful for it, big baby.
Lesson to learn: Everything we go through contributes to who we are today.

And how's Lil' Mama gonna get up on stage while The Jiggaman and Alicia Keys were performing? Sh*t, I don't blame them for being mad at that. Fans on stage is one thing, but D-list celebs? Hell to the naw!
Lesson to learn: Don't try to include yourself in something you aren't a part of.

Then, Whitney goes and bares her soul on Oprah. Took her 2 shows to do it. For what it's worth, I'm glad - rather, I hope - she left that Bobby Brown for good. A caveman could see he was never good for her. But then again, love makes fools of all of us.
Lesson to learn: To move forward, cut off everything / everyone that's holding you back.

And how about Serena Williams cussing a judge out, resulting in her losing the match? Don't get me started; it's a double standard at its worst. I rather enjoyed the outburst though. Tennis is such a stuck-up sport; the players aren't 'allowed' to express any emotion except exhilaration after winning. Tennis is hard work; the players have to pull some amazing feats sometimes. And you're telling me they can't show a little rage? C'mon. I wish every sport was like ice hockey.
Lesson to learn: Serena's the truth! Tenacity doesn't get more curvaceous.

Of course, all these were great fodder for the news networks, especially Fox News. That Sean Hannity and, particularly, that doggone Glenn Beck, really enjoyed these past weeks. Anyone who believes whatever conspiracy theories that maniac Glenn spins is an idiot, period - they'd probably give out their banking info to that Nigerian millionaire, via email. Glenn's a great actor though, to his credit, but there's no mistaking his snake oil salesman routine. It reeks through the screen.
Lesson to learn: News is merely entertainment. Never forget that.

In other news, school's kicking major butt. That's why I'm a little rare these days. But what to do.

And I'm embarrassed to admit that I, a self-proclaimed car guy, has been neglecting my very own whip - hadn't changed my cold-air filter in eons. Just for comparison's sake, check out its replacement to the right. That's how it's supposed to look like when clean. Yeah, I'm really trippin'.

Y'all have a good weekend. Happy b-day to Udi, Mato & Alex. Shout out to The Dishwasher. Y'all raise hell this weekend.

****************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"...I like a girl that'll roll me a blunt, you know
With pretty feet, cook me something to eat, you know
You're not a groupie, you're international..."

Red & Meth in Mrs. International

THROW THEM 'BOWS

2009-09-09T06:08:00.003-05:00

Damn, school's kicking butt already. For the first time ever, I spent most of this past weekend studying. Never done that before. Hopefully I won't have to do it again.

But life's always interesting, what can I say. There's always something going on.

Like, I've had people ask me whether the ugali I was seemingly enjoying had been oven-baked. I've even heard mukimo referred to as vegetable casserole. But this is what githeri is described as, below?

Granted, it doesn't have any corn - sorry, maize - in it, and it doesn't look very appetizing, but I know githeri when I see it. I lived off that stuff.

Then, last week a customer named Tu called. The receptionist, over the intercom, was like:
"[Boss-man], you have Tu on line 1."
"Is that on line 2 or 1?" Boss-man asked.
*Sigh*

And is this irony?
Yesterday a customer called for me. He was like:
"Hi d. This is Jim from Signs By Tomorrow. I need a sign today."
*Sigh²*

And big ups to Luda for giving back. Not only is he one of the best rappers, in my book, but he's apparently conscientious.

Props too to O for giving that motivational speech to students yesterday, despite all the idiots that didn't want him to. Can the cat do something, anything, that people don't get their panties in a bunch over? Sheesh.

And how's Lil' Wayne gonna have a new joint titled 'Whip It Like a Slave?' He just got knocked a couple of rungs down in my aforementioned book.

Happy 9-9-09. If that means anything.

*******************************

Hip-Hop verse of the week:

"...So control your hormones and keep your draws on
Till I close the door and I'm jumping your bones..."

Ludacris in Area Codes

WILY, LIKE WILY.

2009-09-02T11:01:00.010-05:00

I got to thinking about this as I got the car re-inspected:

I've changed. So much so, in fact, that I'd scarcely recognize myself if I met me 10 years ago. For instance, I would've been trying to think of ways to weasel my way into getting the car inspected, maybe by finding a shop that bent the rules, but instead I fixed all the 'problems' it had and got it re-inspected. What?! Even I am surprised at that!

But even more so are plenty of other subtle changes that have come to define the me today. With each passing day I realize what an idiot I'd been when I was younger.

Case in point, consider Jesus' 'itinerary.' He started the body of his work when he was 30, and by the time he died [and rose] at 33 had accomplished in 3 years more than all of us combined probably will in a lifetime. Jesus was God, for Heaven's sake [pun intended], so he could've started whenever he wanted, even at like 2 years old, but he waited till he was 30. Coincidence? I think not - the male doesn't reach full maturity till he's 30.

More and more I'm feeling like Wily Coyote, in the picture up top, in that I've finally captured my life and my destiny after all these years. [Or in Wiley's case, captured Roadrunner] What I now need to do is pin my roadrunner down, examine it, then figure out what in the world I'm supposed to do with myself.

Life has a not-too-funny way of showing you the ropes, but some of the harsher lessons I've had to learn over the years might be these:

- There is no such thing as having enough money. Even Bill Gates is still hustlin'.

- Nothing is free, material or otherwise. Not even love/strong like. You WILL [re]pay.

- Save motherf*cker, save. Even if it's KES100 a month, do it. Maintain that cheddar cushion. Finance experts say you should have at least 6 months' worth of savings that maintain your current lifestyle. Yeah, like that's doable. I'm trying tho.

- Distinguish between needs and wants. For instance, I want a pair of sneakers, but I need to pay rent. If I got the sneakers I'd be short on rent. Capiche?

- Living by oneself is priceless. And pricey.

- Men and women will never completely understand each other. But they could try harder.

- If you find a girl/guy whose perks outweigh their demerits, hang on to them. There's no such thing as the perfect shawty, but the pickings are slim these days, so if someone makes you even remotely happy, try and see what else they've got; most out there won't make you happy at all.

- Once you're in a committed relationship, temptation is aplenty. *Ishindwe!*

Dang, I've lots more stuff but Rihanna's 'whiny' but captivating vocals [lyrics below] are distracting me, as I write this. Either she's getting better or I'm getting accustomed to her singing, but either way she sounds real good. Sorry, but when music so much as gestures, I run toward it. Resistance is futile.

**********************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"Life's a game but it's not fair
I break the rules so I don't care
So I keep doing my own thing
Walking tall against the rain..."

Rihanna in Jay Z's Run This Town

UP, DOWN.

2009-08-31T16:06:00.004-05:00

I decided to try out a new place to get the car inspected. I should've remembered what they say - if [the inspection place you've been using for forever] works, don't [change] it. And so I earned myself an a fail. Figures.

But like everything bad, there's always a good thing to counteract it; say, like stumbling across a man-toy I'd forgotten I had. Sweet.

Just another day in paradise, I guess.

BLAME IT?

2009-08-26T19:23:00.013-05:00

Dang, been gone for a minute there. Time flies, for real; it's ridiculous how fast. I can't believe school has already started. WTF? For once I'm not psychologically ready to deal with all the late nights and the homework and all that BS. But then again, am I ever? Guess I just have to gri[mace]n and bear it.

Been trying to keep well away from the boys in blue all this summer; they always are in vull vorce this time of year when it's warm, talking about cracking down on reckless drivers.
[For the record, I'm not reckless, I'm just fast. The cops just don't seem to understand that]
So far, I'm happy to say, I haven't had a single incident with them this summer. [knocking on wood] But a few of my friends haven't been so lucky:

One of them late last year/ealier this year, got his license suspended for a spell. I'll spare you the details, but it had something to do with being late for work, impatience, a schoolbus and county police. Needless to say, add all those together and you get trouble.

Another one, quite the party animal, happened to be leaving a local joint in the wee hours of the morning, after a couple of libations, and finding a roadblock en route to his crib. His blood alcohol level was a single point above the legal limit and as far as he was concerned he was stone cold sober, but that still landed him a DWI. Sucks. As we speak, he's on a suspended license for a spell, has to pay mad $ in fines and has to complete a good number of hours of community service. Youch.

This next one isn't that different but the tale was a lot more - shall we say - colorful:

Dude was at his high school reunion which started early in the afternoon and continued well into the night. The bottles popped off the first minute he stepped in. He encountered one of his former classmates, a girl who had, while in high school, been rather unremarkable-looking but who now was drop-dead gorgeous. [Fellas, can I get a witness?] They'd started talking and had set aflame some [sexual?] embers within. She confessed she'd always had a crush on him and he was finding her more ravishing by the hour. By evening they were pretty much all over each other, swapping spit and sh*t, and he knew, just knew, that he was gonna get lucky that night. So he stopped drinking at about 9pm; not for any reasons pertaining to sobriety, but because she'd [inevitably] invited him to spend the night over at her house and he wanted to be certain about what he was doing. So they left the bash at about midnight headed for her house. He left his whip at a nearby parking lot; the girl was quite out of it and he was comparatively sober so they used her car. He drove.

They were almost at the girl's house when that dreaded spectacle lit up the night right behind them, a soundless cacophony of red, blue and white lights. He pulled over, and as usual five-oh took his sweet time walking over. When he finally did he was like:

"I pulled you over because your left taillight is out. Did you know about that?" My boy shook his head. "Well, you need to get that fixed." He paused. "You guys have a nice night and drive safe."

But before he walked back to his Interceptor, he noticed the girl in the passenger-side seat was knocked the buck out, a dead giveaway, and it all went downhill from there.

Five-oh asked my boy whether he'd been drinking, and dude admitted he'd had 'a couple.' Promptly, he was ushered out the car and was made to perform a sobriety test. You know, the walk-in-a-straight-line count-from-10-backwards kind of thing. He passed, no problem. Unfortunately, the cop also brought out the breathalyzer from his bag of tricks. Dude blew into it and the thing went crazy - he was almost twice over the limit! Ye gads!

He was promptly handcuffed and bundled into the backseat of the Interceptor and sent to County for the night. [The girl was driven home, her whip impounded] I can only imagine how mad at himself he must've been, thinking about how much better the night would've been, while gripping on those iron bars waiting to be bailed out. And you can imagine how much he had to pay and give up after he was out. Sheesh.

Later, he told me that he, for the first time, realized just how powerful the nookie really is. Nothing but truth; people go apesh*t - pillage, overthrow governments, that kind of thing - just to get it.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I will never [again] drink and drive. I might've done it in the past without any incident but safety reasons aside, that is too much sh*t to deal with for a few lousy drinks.

************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"The power of the p-*-s-s-y
That's why every motherf*cka in the world dress fly
Every baller that can afford it they cop the best ride
For the power of the p-*-s-s-y..."

Jay-Z & R Kelly in P*ssy

CROCK POT HOT

2009-08-10T18:19:00.012-05:00

Good Lawd, it's hot as hæll out there! But before the heatwave, I'd been out there doing quite a bit. Not half as much as I do other summers, but plenty nonetheless. Hopefully I can squeeze in a lot more fun, though fun is directly proportional to money spent, and there isn't much of that.

I got to drive my boy V^6's GTI and I'll tell you what, that thing is crazy fast. Dude, it spun the tires in 3rd! Below 3000 RPM it's a normal, everyday VW, but past that there's this whooooosh!! and the whole car tenses up, like it's about to pounce and devour everything in its path. The acceleration literally pins the back into the seat, threatening to rip the skin off the face. Awesome.

And I had to get a new seat for the car - sucks coz seats don't come cheap. Well, it doesn't totally suck, coz the new one is great. Apparently I drive too much and the padding in the seat lost its elasticity, kinda like those foam mattresses in high school did after a couple of hard years. So it had to be replaced, with this one. I love it. I wish I could've replaced both the driver's and co-driver's tho, but this seat is more supportive than comfortable. i.e., it's freakin' hard. But I won't replace the passenger-side seat just for aesthetics - a car isn't any good if your girl friends hate being in it.

And yes, this - I lost my laptop. Even worse, the camera too, and all in the same day. To be precise, they were stolen, but I made them vulnerable so it's technically my fault. My street-smarts failed me for a split-second, and apparently that one fleeting moment was enough. Never again.

Alright, I'm out. Gotta go make the boss-man some money.

*****************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"...Ass is phat, frame is little
Tattoo on your chest with his name in the middle.."

Fat Joe in What's Love

HUNGRY-MAN ON THE PROWL

2009-08-05T19:47:00.006-05:00

It's ridiculous - every day at around 11.30, like clockwork, I get hungry. I've mastered the craving tho and discovered that if I wait an hour or so, the hunger subsides. But before I wised up, I'd get out of the office building feeling like I was wielding a spear, ready to hurl it at anything that seemed remotely edible. And that's how I discovered some of these places:

Around the workplace are 6 fast food joints. There are maybe 50 different businesses within a half-mile radius and as you might imagine, these fast food joints make a killing. There are 2 American-style delis, a genuine American BBQ restaurant, a genuine Korean food restaurant, a Chinese food place and a pizza place.

With the exception of the BBQ place, all the other spots are far from ordinary. The BBQ place is unmistakably all-American. Flapping right alongside the building is Old Glory. Proudly emblazoned outdoors and indoors are splashes of red, white and blue paintwork. A picture of George W. Bush [still] hangs on the wall. I guess they didn't get the memo that Obama is now president. But their food is always, unfailingly, great.

On to the genuine Korean restaurant. Seeing how I'm in constant need of stimulation, oral or otherwise, I couldn't help but venture therein foraging for Korean fodder. I walked in there, swung the door open, stepped in and stopped dead in my tracks. It was all dark in there and I had to let my eyes get accustomed to the gloom, but it didn't take long to realize that every eye in there was turned toward me. Idle conversations in Korean paused in mid-sentence while I stood there squinting, as the double doors swung behind me on rusty hinges. Reminding myself that I owned a pair, I [mentally] grabbed them and walked up toward the apron-ed lady and ordered some noodles, all the while reminding myself not to be back there anytime soon.

The two American-style delis are owned by Koreans, go figure. You'd think they were under the same management coz not only are they right next to each other and serve the exact same stuff, but their food tastes vastly different. They're also perpetually in jealous competition and hate each other.
In one deli I step in through the door and you'd think Diddy just showed up. They yell out my name, [and everyone else's, for that matter] remember my 'specials' and work hard at small talk, as hopeless as their English is. The other deli, in contrast, is coldly efficient. They do say hi & bye and all that good stuff, but every time I order something from there it reminds me of getting something from a vending machine - that impersonal. Cooking is a chore for them unlike the other place, and you can taste it. Once, I kid you not, I went there and was indecisive on what to eat, to which the one lady waiting on me was like: "Order quickly!"
B*tch.

It's true what they say - you can tell apart food that's cooked with love; you can taste it.

The Chinese place is where it's at, the soap opera spot. The owners are, as far as I can tell, from Hong Kong... and Britain. Weird, I know. But this is how it is according to the word on the street: the British guy went to Hong Kong - no surprise there - and met a local. She turned him out, and he wifed her. By some twist of fate they moved to the U.S., but not without the girl's parents. True to their entrepreneurial heritage, the girl's parents started a Chinese restaurant, and the rest is history. Which means that on any given day when I crave Chinese, I find there either the Brit, his wife, the wife's parents, or any of their numerous employees that can't speak a work of Engrish.

The last spot is a pizza place. This one is owned by - hold your breath - Middle-Easterns, but damned if they can't throw down. I haven't yet had anything from there that's terrible. As far as I can tell, the joint is owned by a young-ish Syrian [so I suspect] couple. The wife's brother works there too and is a spitting image of his sister, less the bui-bui, of course. The couple has a kid who's there from time to time and is always watching dramatic-looking movies with Arabic subtitles on a PC by the far wall. But I like them there, they're cool.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I've been living off for years. I'm a little sick of it all though, coz Lord knows I've probably sampled everything in all 6 menus, but I'll tell you this much:

- No one makes a burger like an American. No one.
- Food from American delis under Korean management can [sometimes] taste good.
- The Brits can actually help make good Chinese food.
- Next to Italians, Middle-Easterns are the pizza gods.

*********************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"Put me in the mood with my woman
Got me in her ear saying sweet nothings
Make love come out the mouth, no frontin'
Like, all of a sudden..."

Eric Sermon in Just Like Music

WEEKENDER

2009-07-31T10:14:00.008-05:00

Courtesy of Lol News, the following images had me in stitches. Follow the implied sequence of events, top to bottom.

Then, Mozilla Firefox, my favorite browser, just cussed me out. It crashed, sort of, but left this un-clickable button on the taskbar.
Hindiot.

Have a good weekend, y'all.

**********************************

Hip-Hop verse for the weekend:

"I sit and gaze, hazy-eyed as I daydream
Her and her girls on the stage doin' they thing
Double Ds full of silicon and saline,
She thirty but don't look a day over eighteen..."

T.I. on DJ Drama's Day Dreamin'

PRETTY WINGS, SEXY THINGS.

2009-07-28T19:46:00.010-05:00

Now that it’s nice and warm outside [too warm, perhaps?] and Maxwell is back, everything’s getting sexier. The ladies are showing off their legs and stuff and, unfortunately, guys are too, but that's OK since it’s hot. [Some white boys, tho, wear shorts all year round, even in the middle of winter. I’ll be.]

But all this love floating around in the air inspired me and I can’t help it – I gotta write something about it.

[Disclaimer: I might be talking here about a car, or a woman.]

When I first met her I had to do a double-take. She was unlike anything I’d ever seen. From any angle, she looked good. That’s rare; a lot of things only look good from one dimension. The ample curves, dimpled fascia and darkened color-scheme, shimmering with the luster of a starlit night full of mischief, were impossible to ignore. I’d stay up nights looking at pictures I’d taken of her, willing the pictures to speak to me, to tell me more about her. For nights on end, this is how it was. I’d been presented with some attractive propositions before, most of them a lot lighter in paintwork - or is it complexion - than she, but when something darker looks really good, it really IS good.

I knew I had to get rid of the one I had then because, deep down, I knew I’d been lying to myself the entire time – the chemistry just wasn’t right. Some things just aren’t meant to be, and I knew I had to give her up and not waste her time, and she mine. And so, it ended. If only it had been amiable.

Sometime later, even before I knew I was ready, I was passing by and there she was, and I knew then. Or maybe I was the one chillin' and she the one passing by, either or. Though she intrigued me, I took my time. Some things you don’t rush into, particularly when it’s important that the situation be nothing like the one preceding it. I danced around her, took my time and did a little research, but mostly I took my time. Then, one day, in spontaneous, uncharacteristic resolve, I plunged right in.

It was akin to jumping off a diving board right into arctic waters. She was so different, so... awakening! To this day, I can still attest to the fact that no one quite moves me like she does. There is the recommended all-important break-in period and I followed the instructions implicitly, because I knew I wanted her to last awhile. I was all nice and easy on her during that break-in period, but it took all my resolve to resist the urge, the need, to see just what she was capable of.

A few weeks and miles later I looked at my watch - no, my cellphone - and realized that, indeed, it was time. Strapping myself in tight, I gripped her tight in both fists, clenching fiercely at her frame lest I flew off her, hit the pedal and roared off into the night. Everything in our path blew by so fast it felt, almost, like Captain Picard would aboard the helm of one of Star Fleet’s finest. [Yes, I’m a Trekkie.] Time ceased to exist but we'd eventually have to slow down, take a breather, refuel, and were off again. For the longest time, this was how it was between us: we’d get up and drive off whenever we wanted, wherever we wanted. I was content to just be with her, to look at her, to open her door and drive her to destinations unknown. As long as I was with her, everything was alright.

And then I almost lost her. Multiple times. Sometimes it was my fault, sometimes hers, sometimes others'. But a short spell without her only made me realize just how much I loved her and couldn’t wait till she came back to me. She always came back a little different, and each time I got a little wiser, but we never lost what we’ve always had.

I’d give her anything, spend money on her without batting an eyelid, and she always gives back, tenfold, what I spend on her. Not necessarily monetarily, though, but in pure thrill and excitement.

She’s a handful - unpredictable, tumultuous, spontaneous... the works – but she's always immensely dependable. I trust her, maybe more than I’ve ever trusted anyone or anything. Every morning I wake up and prod her awake by sticking the key in the ignition, and her engine always turns over without fail. Sometimes I could just be sitting here marinating on the couch and she’d almost telepathically call out to me. Before I know it I’d be out there with her hanging on, watching the galaxies fly by, she and I against the world.

**************************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

“I make describing your beauty my sacred duty
I will write a song, write a book, write a play, make a movie..”

Talib Kweli in Hot Thing

LA CASA

2009-07-21T05:59:00.006-05:00

Been gone for a minute there, but for good reason: Picture a warrior, and a black one at that, in the heat of medieval battle, arrows, swords and tridents everywhere - that’s how it’s been these past weeks. The frenzy has diminished somewhat now, thank God, and here I am, a little worse for wear but otherwise intact.

As I write this I’m looking around, still feeling like a guest in someone else’s place. No surprise there, coz I’ve only been in my new residence for… let’s see… 3 days now. That’s right, I found a new place! More than a little excited about that, to say the least.

But I don’t have TV or internet till Friday, and that sucks. That Comcast guy better show up then, or else. For now I’ll have to log on using the phone in quick, efficient sessions. AT&T charges for data like a hooker does one-on-one sessions – obnoxiously pricey.

Speaking of hookers, tell me why Wams and I, while driving through DC in the sweltering summer heat, saw who would best be described as ‘a lady of the night.’ [or is it evening?] It was 4pm and 90 degrees outside, and this one white girl was standing there by the roadside talking away on her cellie, looking fresh as could be in knee-high black leather boots and a strapless top that showed off her 'artillery,' the entire back and most of her taut tummy. But it was her skirt – or handkerchief, coz that was its approximate size – that really tested the limits of the imagination. Dude, it was so short you could see her ass-cheeks! At 4pm!
[And yes, I absorbed all this detail in seconds. We were merely driving by.]

After we saw her, we drove in silence for a few seconds and then Wams said:
“Isn’t she a bit early?”
She got jokes.

But the moral of this here post is that I’m back. Need proof? Here I am – minus crisp facial detail - in some old T-shirt I finally found. Thug life!

And you'd thought I was BS-ing about the books, huh? Never that. Here are the books I’m trying to give away or trade for. If stateside, I’ll ship them to you free.
Old Englander, you get first dibs.

***************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

“…I'm champion at beer pong
Allen Iverson, Akeem Alajawon …”

Asher Roth in I Love College

DONE WITH THE LAST ONE, ON TO THE NEXT

2009-07-09T10:52:00.003-05:00

Many men, over here stateside anyway, seem to be bitten by some bug the minute they hit 30 years old - the marriage bug. I don't understand it.

It seems like they'd do anything to get married, and would get married to anyone. I've heard horrific stories of they, being turned down by their current female friends, turning right around and marrying the first woman who says yes. Strange but true.

But you know what, I'm not mad at them. If they want to get married that badly, so be it. My only concern is that they don't realize the enormity of the task that is marriage, not to mention the kids that usually come in quick succession.

I'd thought only men suffered from the marriage bug, either that or women don't publicize it, but this here [link below] is on a whole 'nother level. It might be a prank, but it's still entertaining nonetheless.
Check it out.

**************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"I spent many years trying to be the heartthrob
I guess it's only right that I got my heart robbed.."

Common in I want You

SHOP & BARTER

2009-06-29T21:36:00.007-05:00

Been looking for a new spot to move to, and it's proving to be much more difficult than I'd originally anticipated. Not that there's a shortage of places to rent; if anything it's ridiculous how many people are renting out, their own houses even.

But I suddenly remembered that I'm a grown-ass man and should have a spot of my own. I've had roommates for the longest and they always find a way to piss a brother off, especially when it comes to keeping the kitchen and bathroom clean. MD [Mama d®] was militant about keeping the bathroom & kitchen clean, and those values were hard-wired into my system.

[Speaking of, I asked MD the other day what she thought about my bro's Subaru and she was like:
"Ona ndiui arutire ngari io ku. Iri inegene ma! Igambaga ta kibikibi."]

While flipping through apartment guides and Craigslist one afternoon I was so [unpleasantly] surprised I almost gave up my lunch - apartments in the DC area don't come cheap. Holy sh*t, I'm talking about, on average, $900 a month! I was expecting it to be a "more reasonable" $750-ish, coz utilities gotta be paid for too, but nuh-uh. Can a brother get a break? It's good to have a friend who's a bean-counter tho, coz it's apparent I'll have to trim the fat off my already slender budget.

Of course it's all about location, location, location. The closer you are to downtown the pricier everything is, and that progression isn't exactly linear. Finding the right balance between location and affordability is turning out to be a black art of sorts. *sigh* If only I liked apartment-shopping as much as I do shopping for electronic gizmos!

Which reminds me: It's about that time of year - I need to get rid of lots of novels that have been stacking up, and which I'll never read again. Anyone stateside want them or better yet, wants to trade? I'll take a pic showing the titles soon as I get the camera back.

**************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"Yeah, I want things to go my way
But as of late a lot of sh*t been going sideways
And my mother tried to run away from home
But I left something in the car so I caught her in the driveway
And she cried to me, so I cried too
And my stomach was soaking wet, she only 5′2"..."

Drake in Successful

RIDIC.

2009-06-25T08:20:00.004-05:00

Thesis statement: "Oh no he didn't!"

It's great having elder brothers. Not only do I look up to them, but they challenge me to be like them, or better them, in so many ways.

So, imagine my surprise when bro-man sent me these pics of his steed - an STI-powered and performance-tuned Subaru Forester. I'd thought it was just a plain-jane Subie all this time.

Dude has been holding out on me, I see. For someone with a lead foot and who's always had fast cars, it still surprises him. This is what he had to say about it:

"Yes, I've got a Subaru Forester - Powerful machine, STI modified (see steering wheel and foot pedals), after market muffler (Loooud), intercooler turbo charged, 2000cc, complete with boost meter and turbo timer. I've never known such raving power and amazing stability. I love it."

The pic of the engine bay reveals, unsurprisingly, that he's been romping about in dirt roads. Lucky b@stard.

***************************

Hip-Hop verse of the day:

"It's five o'clock in the morning
Got my pedal to the floor,
It's time I test my 600
Wonder how fast this b*tch go.."

Jermaine Dupri ft Nate Dogg in Ballin' Out Of Control

STIGGIE EXPOSÉ

2009-06-22T06:45:00.004-05:00

It wouldn't take a nuclear physicist to figure out The Stig has considerable F1 experience but holy sh*t, it turned out to be Schumacher, arguably one of the greatest of all time?!

That explains the otherworldly control skills the Stig possesses; he could make any beast, even the hopelessly impractical Golf W12, go around the test track while Jeremy couldn't do it once. [so he said]

But why would they expose who the stig really is? It was so much fun trying to guess who it might've been. Damn!

Wait! This may be a ploy to pull the wool over everyone's eyes about the Stig's real identity. Hmmm...

"ZIP, ZERO, STINGY WITH DINERO"

2009-06-18T11:50:00.022-05:00

I was talking to shawty the other day about some situation that happened with some cat I know when this came up, and she admitted that though she hadn’t really thought about it before, I just might be right. I’ve seen too many examples of this to make it fictitious or worse, presumptuous, so I’d like to believe it's got some semblance of truth to it. You be the judge. Here it goes:

Women don’t feel obligated to share their money with their men.

Before I start getting hate mail about this, hear me out.

One of my friends is a good dude. Many years ago he was in the military, and was fortunate to finally be stationed stateside, after years of bouncing about in military bases all over the globe. He went out for a drink with his boys one day and met this one girl, and it was as close to love at first sight as it’d ever get. Quicker than you can say sacrebleu! they‘d moved in together, had a couple of kids and were as happily married as could be.

They both were barely out of their teens and dude, being in the military and all, was making much more money than she; she was a working college student, i.e. poor. Dude dedicated all his efforts into helping her pay for school, and in a few short years she was done. She found a good job with a young, up-and-coming firm and was on the fast track to success. Like most in the corporate world, she really had to put her time in, which meant she was pulling 70-hour weeks, and consequently spending a fortune on babysitters.

Meanwhile, dude’s mandatory tenure with the military had expired and he could’ve re-enlisted, but he chose to leave so he could spend more time with his family. He inevitably became a stay-at-home Dad and didn’t mind it at all at first, coz he’d hardly spent any extended periods of time with them while he was in the service. But a few months down the road, it suddenly hit him [idiot] that he wasn’t making any money and hadn’t saved hardly any, since it had all gone towards his wife’s schooling.

So he got out there and tried to find a job. Having only graduated from high school and with no other credentials, he could only find one dead-end job after another, making peanuts. Meanwhile, his wife was quickly climbing the corporate ladder, and in a few short years was a director and making six figures. She was hardly ever home, and when she was home she was always working, and their relationship quickly deteriorated, and this is how it went down:

She’d come home and complain about everything, dude told me. He was only working part time and did all the cooking and cleaning, but she started complaining about his cooking. [Right, after years of him always doing the cooking] Suddenly the crib wasn’t clean enough, the kids had a rash, she was paying too much for the apartment, and on and on.

One day she came home and told him she’d bought a house. She hadn’t even talked to him about it. Barely containing his anger, he asked her why she hadn’t consulted him and she said, and I quote, that 'there wasn’t any need to consult him since he couldn’t have contributed financially anyway.' Youch. Speechless, he told her to go ahead and do what she wanted then. In a few months they moved in to a new house sprawled on a humongous, immaculately manicured lawn. And that was the beginning of their [real] tale of woe.

To spare you the sorry details, she bought whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and didn’t mention it to him or ask him anything about it. She made sure he deposited his entire check in their joint account, but she had an account on the side where she stacked up the bulk of her cheddar. They played so many silly games and she said so many scathing things, though he responded in kind, but soon he’d had it up to here with feeling emasculated and filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences. No sooner had she gotten the papers than she went and cleaned out their joint account.
[Oh, hell naw! >d® would have to choke a b*tch!]

But my thing is this: He was all too willing to spend all his money on her when she needed it. But when the roles were reversed, she’d have none of that. Apparently what was his was theirs, but what was hers was hers! Good Lawd!

But then again, we men are oft conditioned, from an early age, to take care of our women. Like, I never have a problem footing the bill for my lady friends. There could be 3 or 4 of them, and I’d still want to. Matter of fact, I almost feel like I have to. But maybe that’s because my Dad and Brothers always exemplified that, and I picked up on it. Same as opening doors, pulling chairs, that kind of stuff.

But I must admit it feels good when a girl insists on paying for stuff. I wouldn’t expect her to, and I’d never ask her to, but it still feels good.

More to the point, when most men are suddenly in a position where they can’t pay for their lady friends’ stuff, it really sucks. It’s inexplicable, but there’s a certain sense of – I daresay – pride, in footing a lady friend’s tab. We know that the ladies are perfectly capable of paying for their own sh*t, but we still wanna get y'all that drink, ladies.

But women don’t seem to have this complex. They don’t feel obligated to pay their men’s bills/tabs/whatever. As a matter of fact, if a dude confessed to a girl he was trying to holla at that he didn’t have any cheddar to foot the bill, that would be the beginning of the end. Of course not all girls are like that, I know, but show me one girl who will meet a raggedy-ass, broke-ass negro and fall in love with him right away, and I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Either he's got to have a little cheddar at least, or he’s got to have some exceptional ability. And that’s just the way it is.

Sh*t, I wouldn’t mind it one bit if my girl made more money than I. As long as she doesn’t get on a financial power trip, that is. I'll babysit all day! Nah, just playing - I'd go insane from boredom, no doubt.

Make that cheddar, ladies. And share it with your men, why dontcha. Coz Lord knows we love spending it on you!

************************

Hip-Hop quote of the day

"...N*gga had very bad credit, you helped me lease that whip
You helped me get the keys to that V dot 6
We was so happy poor but when we got rich
That's when our signals got crossed, and we got flipped..."

Jay-Z in Song Cry

DR. DRAKE

2009-06-17T08:54:00.009-05:00

Hot damn, don't know what's wrong with me today. I'm losing it, as the Rock City boys said; I'm lost like Gorilla Zoe. Maybe the dreary weather has something to do with it, but I feel as convoluted as Salvador Dali must've been.
[Google or Bing some of his paintings. Dude's certifiable.]

Once again, music came to the rescue, in the form of some new cat on the Hip-Hop scene known as Drake. Well, he actually isn't exactly new; I remember watching his video a couple of years back, in some joint he had with Trey Songz.

Not to be all over his nuts, but dude's good. I'm sure everybody and their mama has heard his 'Best I Ever Had' joint coz it's all over the airwaves, but what did it for me was when he performed with Jamie Foxx on Conan O'Brien a few days ago.

Let me break it down: he wrote lyrics for Jamie Foxx's remix, and less than 24 hours later he was on the national stage with Jamie performing those same lyrics on O'Brien's show, and he killed it. Talk about clutch. I'm not too crazy about the song, but Drake really put it down.

******************************

Hip-Hop quote of the day:

"Formally it ain't a question
We would cross paths like an intersection
But you just too far away for affection
So I pray that we never lose the connection
Coz I remember Stacy
She used to hate me
She used to threaten she had a man to replace me..."

Drake in Jamie Foxx's Digital Girl, the remix

THE RELENTLESS QUEST FOR ENTERTAINMENT

2009-06-15T07:46:00.006-05:00

Like I've often stated here, I've got a morbid fear of having kids of my own. So much so, in fact, that in the past I've opted out of perfectly good whispering eye.

But I can see why people say kids are worth all the headaches they bring - they're an endless source of entertainment. There's never a dull moment with the lil' buggers, and for someone like yours truly who's in constant need of hilarity, my cousin's kids come in real handy.

Like, just the other day, the youngest one was in some early century school play, and his brother took this picture and sent it to me. The message was titled: "Medieval Negro. "

What do you do when you're bored stiff in after-lunch Chemistry lab? Have a classmate draw a tattoo on your arm. Ashy arm notwithstanding, this sh*t had me in stitches.

Dogs like kids, for whatever reason. But kids don't necessarily have to like them back, as evidenced by this clip. Dude's trying to get away from the dog, but the dog thinks he wants to play.

*************************

Hip-Hop quote of the day:

"...You catch my girl legs open betta smash that
Don't be surprised if she ask where the cash at.."

Lil' Wayne in Fireman

MEMBERS ONLY

2009-06-13T10:38:00.004-05:00

Ice Cube got it right - today is a good day.

After years and years [and years] of monthly payments, the Slo-Z, though a little worse for wear, is finally mine!

What makes this day so special is that I've come really close to totaling the car; I was sure, after this one accident some years back especially, that she was done for. But for some reason the lil' bugger just keeps soldiering on.

Well, she's now mine, b*tch! CK, make some room in the car owners' club - I'm here baby!

And here's proof, below!

*********************************

Hip-Hop Quote of the day:

"...I gotta go coz I got me a drop top
And if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop
Had to stop at a red light
Looking in my mirror not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright.."

Ice Cube in Today Was a Good Day

ELEVEN THOUSAND WORDS

2009-06-03T22:56:00.007-05:00

One of my co-worker's mousepads,
unlike anything you've [probably] ever seen. I hadn't either.

Vacation is a beautiful thing. Everything is so much less congested during the weekdays, as I found out. Even the local basketball court. Which meant I could sport a grossly exaggerated sag....

...since no one was there at that hour - around 3pm. Sweet.

The ill Vee-Dub's rather innocent-looking engine bay. Hard to tell APR [the turbo guys] doubled the power.

The monster turbo, tucked in right by the firewall.

The only clue that it isn't your average GTI: the massive intercooler peeking out underneath the bumber.

Yes it was, a little while back.
And that look-at-me pencil closest to the cake isn't mine.

Speaks volumes about the quality of the water, doesn't it?

Pity I'd just had lunch, coz this sign would've made me want to get in there.

A girl's best friend.
The universal 'I'm sorry baby, I f*cked up' peace offering.
The one inanimate thing that's guaranteed to get you some.
And it's also:

One of the most annoying signs I've ever seen,
particularly because I always cut the lights off.

THE END

************************

Hip-hop phrase of the day:

"...see, your physique is off the chain
It's gonna be hard gettin' you off the brain..."

Mr. Cheeks in Lights, Camera, Action.

GYMKHANA pt 2.

2009-06-01T13:51:00.005-05:00

Ken Block has done it again. Holy sh*t!

And in case you missed the 1st one, here it is.

*************************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

"...Ooohs and ahhhs
5'7" thick in the thighs
Every thug's dream wife, see the love in they eyes?
It's my time to shine, whole package make her a dime
Want some more? It ain't over, just be pressin' rewind..."

Eve in What Y'all Want

HONEST [S]CRAP.

2009-05-28T12:24:00.009-05:00

First the rules...

1. You must brag about the award
2. You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger
3. You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.

4. Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.

5. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on with the instructions!

... then:
"Nimemaliza kusema yaliyoandikwa.
Sasa nitasema yalio yangu."

[Hope I spelled that one sentence in Swa right. Forgive me; I'm from 'Mulang'a' after all.
Props to Farmgal and Kei, BTW, for making me do this. Y'all owe me.]

******************************

I can scarcely believe I've been blogging since [late] 2005. Maybe it helped foster my secret [but not so secret anymore now] wish to write stuff that someone would actually read, for real fame and fortune. [not] Or maybe it helped release tension throwing random ramblings out there for release coz I was [am?] on the infamous Bilaz Train©. Not to mention numerous problems with traffic 5-0. Or maybe I just liked the blogging idea just because. Either way, I'm still here almost 4 years later, still going strong.

Maybe I should adopt a 'Can't stop, won't stop' mantra like Diddy.

Anyhow, here are my deep, dark 10:

1. I'm a right-handed leftie. Sort of. Say what you will about left-hand-right-hand myths, but it's fundamentally true that left and right-handers are plenty different. Right-handers tend to me more methodical, more logical, more conventional. Left-handers are more artsy, more passionate, more volatile. e.g.: Ne-yo is a leftie. His talent is indisputable, but isn't he such an enigma: who are his friends? Who are, more importantly, his girlfriends?
And, of course, Obama's a leftie, as is Angelina Jolie, Bruce Willis. Need I say more?
Case in point, I've never met a left-hander who wasn't special. [Or weird, for that matter] I'm right-handed, fortunately or unfortunately, but find myself neck-deep in leftie stuff. Shoot, I even do graphics for a living.

2. I had a speech impediment. When I was younger I couldn't get a word out. I stuttered/stammered so bad that I almost didn't wanna talk. Sometimes I'd go through entire days without speaking at all. Maybe that's why I started writing a lot, for lack of other ways to express myself. High school & music saved me: I got the crap beaten out of me in Form One and had to learn real quick how to talk myself out of sticky situations. Love for music - reciting rap & song lyrics apparently helped too, coz one day I woke up and didn't stutter at all. My fluency these days is ridiculous, considering how I couldn't get a word out. Dude, I even [try to] freestyle. Music, quite literally, saved my life.

3. Cars: I started driving when I was 10. My elder brothers, pretending to want to teach me how to drive that early, were merely being slick - they were setting me up to do chores for them. I could barely reach the pedals and had to use a cushion to sit on, and I looked through the steering wheel rather than over it, but pretty soon I was running milk to the dairy and fetching food for the animals all the time in my Dad's 20-year-old pick-up. Even the local traffic cops knew I could drive that young and would merely wave me on. Meanwhile, my bros were taking it easy at the house, macking on their giggly girlfriends while watching TV. B@stards.
But my love affair with cars hasn't stopped since. And now that I'm actually going to school to learn more about them, it's a wrap.

4. Restless: It seems like I'm always moving; I wanna do something, anything, to avoid being idle. I've pretty much been like that all my adult life. I can barely watch 2 hours of TV. I can't even surf the web more than an hour anymore, and I can't stand being in the house - unless I've company, if you catch my drift. If I could, I'd do something different every day. School helps quell this restlessness, particularly since I learn something new every day, but the days without school suck.
Of course, this doesn't do my relationships any favors. Apparently women like a dude who can stick around - imagine that. This one woman tho is like crack and I'm the addict - I keep going back.

5. I'm a terrible actor. I can't pretend for sh*t. I sooo wish I could, coz sometimes a good lie can make things so much easier. If I'm pissed you'll see it on my face, plain as day. Not so much the facial expression as the eyes, I'm told. That's why I can't work anyplace where I have to deal with a lot of people - people suck. Like, my first job was at a retail store working a cash register. I only lasted half a day when customers got to me. I told the supe to move me from there or I was out. He did, moved me to the worst position ever, unloading stuff from trucks, that f*cker. But I was much happier there.

6. Music. I can't even describe how much music means to me. Remember the aforementioned restlessness? Only music soothes that savage beast. And that's just it - I listen to anything. My music collection, though overwhelmingly Hip-Hop & RnB, is like someone jacked all iPods from cats attending some international convention, then consolidated all that music into one playlist. The only reason I used to go clubbing all the time was the music; I like it when it's so loud it resonates in your chest. In every car I've had, from my first rust-bucket of a Ford Escort to the Slo-Z, there's always been high-quality audio. Every place I've lived at too. You should see me in the zone at the crib - I sometimes sit at my desk for hours, eyes closed, head boppin', soaking the music in. Strange but true.

7. Writing. Needless to say, [because I'm writing this] I like to write. I don't consider myself good, per se, unlike my English teachers over the years, so I've never tried to 'go pro.' Still, I appreciate good writing as much as the next guy. I also speak like I write, and my friends can attest to that. Trust me, if you've read me, you've heard me speak.
At one point writing was my sole means of expression, so I've always done it. I used to keep a journal till I was about 16, when my sister stumbled upon it and read every word aloud to my other siblings. I can still hear their laughter to this day. B@stards. As you might imagine, I was mortified, and vowed to never again put down my deepest, darkest thoughts on paper. But I've always toyed with the idea of trying to write a book, if only to have something to do. My greatest regret is that I can't type as fast as I think. Not to say I'm a hunter-and-pecker when I type, but once I get going my fingers have a hard time keeping up.

[Hot damn! This IS work!]

8. Women. Where do I even begin? I love women; they're fascinating creatures. And exasperating, coz I can't figure them out. I hear music when I see a good-looking woman walk. They taste and smell so good, for the most part, have such smooth skin, are [for the most part] hairless, and have exceptional multi-tasking abilities that I could never master.
I'm starting to understand y'all, ladies. Not to say I'm even close to having a eureka moment with y'all, oh no. But I'm getting better, thanks to experience and people like, say, my pastor, who once said:
'Life for me got a whole lot easier once I realized my woman was always right.'
Preach.

9. I have an irrational fear of gaining weight. I don't understand it, especially since I haven't struggled with it. I once was chubby though and hated every moment of it. I like relatively slender women, but I love curvaceous, voluptuous women too. I guess I just don't like the extra weight on myself. I know I should keep in shape, but it's the intensity of this I-gotta-stay-in-shape feeling I've got that's got me perplexed. It's shouldn't be that serious. Or should it?

10. I love alcohol. Back in the day tho it got a little out of hand; all I wanted to do was get f*cked up. Truth be told, I don't even know how I survived those days. It was only when it started to interfere with work & school that I somehow managed to rein it in, and found some foothold on that slippery slope to alcoholism, and pulled myself up and out.
These days I drink but I don't like getting drunk, and I learned that a drink could actually be enjoyable. Before it was like: Where the drinks at? Get me anything! I'm trying to get f*cked up! These days I put some thought into what I'd like to drink. I get it, sit down, take that first sip and actually admit that it tastes good. Apparently my palate has matured along with the rest of me - good deal.

********************

There you have it. Now, who to tag?

GOOD THINGS DO END

2009-05-27T08:40:00.007-05:00

So I'm back on the grind, yesterday actually. It sucks balls. Work after 10 days of mischief isn't easy to get back into.

Nursing a spiritual hangover of sorts, while nursing a 2nd cup of coffee. Been in the pits these past couple of days. Didn't smile all day yesterday, and the only thing that made me do it today is this. It's so silly.

As is McLovin.

********************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

"Leave her be for five minutes
Dudes try to dive in it
First they wanna spit on my name and tarnish my image
I tell them 'Dude, yo I don't care who she speaking with
'Cause I already know she made it clear who she leaving with'.."

Talib Kweli in Never Been In Love

BLAME IT ON THE.... - you know the rest.

2009-05-19T09:45:00.002-05:00

BOXER DREAMS.

2009-05-11T20:57:00.004-05:00

It certainly isn't plausible - or even affordable - now, but I'll need another car eventually. Allow me to explain.

I have a car right now for only 2 reasons: to get to where I need to be [read: work] in good time, and because I enjoy driving. If I lived in a city tho, I probably wouldn't need, or even afford, to keep one.

Since the bulk of us outside the homeland are students first and foremost, money is always scarce. Which means that there's never cash-flow to, say, go to a dealership today and pay for anything in full. The bulk of us get auto loans.

Now, the average auto loan 'matures' between 36 and 72 months. More often than not, you'd choose the 48 or 60, or even the 72, if only to make the monthly payments affordable. That's what I did when I got my current whip and would you know it, just when I'm about to pay that sucker off all these problems crop up. It doesn't help much that I drive it like I stole it, I know, but give a cat a break, y'know? Can a brother stay a few years without having to pay a car-note? [Insert several colorful 4-letter words here.]

But anyhow, I'm rather excited about the prospect of a different set of wheels. As much as I've learned lately about cars, the next one will have to be a solid performer, preferably Japanese, definitely rear or all-wheel driven, and have at least 200 horses on tap right out the box. Oh, and affordable. That last one there is the sole determinant.

I could go on and on and bore you with [unnecessary] car-talk so I'll just say this - the Subaru WRX is looking really good. What you could help me with tho, short of changaing to help a brother out, is ask whether you know anyone who's owned a Subaru and if so, how it's treated them, realiability-wise especially. If you can do things like these with it, it can't be that fragile now, can it? But holla at me tho with a thumbs up or down if you could; I'd appreciate it.

****************

Hip-Hop Quote of the day:

"We started out broke, constantly on a roll
Cuttin' up in the streets like we would never get old
Went from Lucy's and buses, to fifty-cent sodas
And Novas to Hondas, to Lexus to Rovers..".

Rah Digga in Busta Rhyme's I Know What You Want

INTERLUDE

2009-05-08T10:05:00.004-05:00

I was working on the SCRAP post that Farmgal & KK selflessly awarded me when I, getting a little sidetracked, stumbled across this. Google cracks itself up.

And how about this: my piece-of-crap GPS in the car says the weirdest things. Thomas, the Brit-voice, is my favorite of the 5 available pre-programmed voices, maybe because he reminds me of someone. Thomas is always talking sh*t; can't shut him up and is sooo annoying most of the time.

But anyhow, he cracks me up every time he says:
"Prepare to continue straight."

WTF? I already AM moving straight!

******************************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

"She started feeling on my chest,
I started feeling on her breast,
And there's no need for me to stress the rest;
Ay yo, I got myself a winner
We sparked a blunt before we ate,
And a blunt after we ate dinner.."

Lost Boyz in Reneé

MAKE IT RAIN; WHIP APPEAL.

2009-05-05T19:28:00.005-05:00

Finals are nearly over, thank God. Still reeling from the one I did tonight - left the classroom with my virtual tail between the legs. Yes, ladies & gentlemen, I'm f*cked.

Can't wait till summer gets here tho. You'd think this was Europe lately, all this rain. Ridiculous. Haven't seen the sun in days, [seems more like weeks] and my African programming is all discombobulated, if that's even a word. No sun in d®'s life = no fun.

Still, the sun broke for a few hours this past weekend for my boy V^6 to hit the track. Remember the monster GTi I once [or twice. Or thrice] wrote about? Well, it's been given a heart transplant and is now twice as powerful. Ladies & gentlemen, it's ridiculously fast. See for yourself.

Oh, and on the way home he blew past me doing a 'pedestrian' 150MPH. Ye Gads.

****************************************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

"..I used to cut up they buddies, now they sayin' they love me
Used to tell they friends I was ugly and wouldn't touch me
Then I showed up in that dubbed out buggy
And then they got fuzzy and they don't remember that
And I don't remember you.."

Jay Z in Song Cry

HOW TO.

2009-04-24T17:58:00.004-05:00

Here's another of our in-school antics, thanks to the instructor.

I now see why I blacked out for a couple of seconds in that one accident; feels like a grown man's punch to the face.

SHIVER ME TIMBERS!

2009-04-22T09:22:00.009-05:00

I distinctly remember, after watching the first Pirates of the Caribbean, thinking how twisted it was to glorify Jack Sparrow. Granted, he was quite entertaining, but a pirate's a pirate, whichever way you look at it. But then again, all they tried to do was get the booty. And aren't we all? [Yes, I crack myself up.]

The modern-day pirate seems to be of a whole 'nother breed tho. Their intentions - and demands - have broadened considerably. I can only imagine how much it must suck to be stuck in some floating contraption with cats who could waste you in a heartbeat. I can't exactly relate to it since I'm seldom on water, but I can only imagine.

So, yesterday evening, after leaving school early and grabbing some Long John Silver's on the way home, I was looking through CNN's site and, mid-bite, saw a photo of the [grinning] captured Somali pirate who's being made ~~into a publicity stunt~~ an example of. Sipping on some rum & coke, I thought about the futility of the whole exercise. I now know why history is important - it can teach a lot about sh*t that happened in the past and, more importantly, sh*t that doesn't have to happen today.

Virtually all pirates are motivated by one thing and one thing only - monetary gain. Which begs the question: Couldn't they find other - shall we say - less perilous ways to make a living? If not, why? What forced them to choose this precarious path? After working backwards like this, a reasonably satisfactory hypothesis can be reached, which probably would be summed up as this: There aren't any jobs, the government is sh*t, the rest of the world doesn't care, and they gotta eat. Then the real question would become how to help the pirates out so they didn't have to do that sh*t anymore, not how to stop the piracy.

Having come to that semi-satisfactory conclusion, I took a congratulatory shot of Captain Morgan, vaguely wishing I had a parrot squawking on my shoulder.

***************************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

Intro:
"What is it that everybody has
that some pirates and thieves try to take?
[Pause]
The booty."

A Tribe Called Quest in Da Booty

HOME STRETCH

2009-04-20T10:02:00.010-05:00

Now that I got that out of my system, [see previous post] I'm back to regular programming, so to speak. Why waste time being irate, right? Life is too short as it is to waste it on negative energy.

So, finals are fast approaching and as usual I'm ill prepared for them. What's worse, in 2 of the 3 classes I'm taking this semester, the finals are gonna be a b*tch. One instructor said the finals would cover, and I quote, "everything we've covered so far." F*cking A. As if that wasn't bad enough, there will also be a 6-minute presentation that'll be part of the final grade. How the hell do I talk about spark plugs for 6 entire minutes when I can knock it out in 2 minutes flat? I guess I'll just have to overwhelm with unnecessary detail. Great.

Then, the other instructor gleefully told us there would be 100 questions in the final. 100?! Holy crap! But that's better than, say, 20 questions, where a single question is worth 5 whole points. Still....

The third class tho is the easiest. I already know what's gonna be in it, and I've got 3 entire weeks to hand it in. How dope is that? Plus, we're pretty much done covering the syllabus so all we do these days is mess with our own vehicles. Like, Thursday I was changing brake pads & fixing some electrical issues. All that would've cost a couple of hundred bucks had I taken it to a repair shop. Sweet.

*************************************

Since I design signs like these for a living, and much more, it irks me to no end when I see layouts like these, below.

- First, there's no reason any text should be italicized.
- They should've used a single font, not 2.
- At least they made the top line larger.
- A typo on a sign with such few words is inexcusable.
- I detest the Avant Garde font
- Most of the wording is unnecessary. If anything, it should simply read:

And this took me all of 90 seconds to set up.

*************************************

Hip-hop phrase of the day:

"I hate Soulja Boy!"

Me.

THRESHOLD

2009-04-16T13:24:00.018-05:00

I’ve always known I’ve had a problem – I don’t give a f*ck. Now, that may be good or bad, depending on the context or situation, of course. Not that I don’t care about anything, far from it. It’s just that when I tire of something or, closer to home – someone, I don’t spend time thinking about how I could get things back the way they used to be. That right there is sometimes a serious, serious handicap, especially in past dealings with people. Best believe I lost the majority of previous female friends due to this trait – I wouldn’t try and work things out.

Thing is, I have a low threshold for bullsh*t. If someone’s trippin’ over something trivial, that’s a major turn-off for me. I understand that men & women seldom see eye to eye on a lot of things and I never forget that. Like, I sometimes did things that’d piss my girl off and I’d have no idea it was because of me, but I was always one to try and understand why she’d be pissed off so we’d talk about it, then it’d be all good. But if she’d start trippin’ over little things like why some girl txt-ed me in the middle of the night or want to go through my phone I’d be far from thrilled. After all, it’s not like I have control over who calls or texts me, right? Besides, I’ve never worried about who texts or calls my girl, ever. Don’t get me wrong – I might wonder about it, but it’s really none of my business, and I’d hate it if she did that to me, so I never ask to flip through her phone. Plus, if she was creeping, going through her phone wouldn’t solve that problem.

But with one particular girl, I always try to patch things up. It gnaws at me when we disagree. For whatever reason I always want her to be cool with me. But that’s another story.

[Got a little sidetracked there]
What I’m really talking about tho is that I might’ve lost a good friend lately. We’ve been friends a long time, but they started trippin’ over something that’s so unbelievably trivial you wouldn’t believe. What’s more, what this person was trippin’ about had little to do with me; it was mostly about a mutual friend. But it was such a turn-off for me that I suddenly didn’t wanna hang around them no more.

I don’t know about you, but friendship to me is unconditional – within reason, of course. Say I need a ride to, for instance, Nakuru, and asked my friend to take me there and they did. Cool. Then, a few months later, same dude needed to borrow my laptop coz theirs was down, so I lent it to them. Cool. A few weeks later, say he needed help re-painting his living room and asked me to help him out. Feigning reluctance, I’d ask him whether I really had to do it, all the while knowing fully well I’d have no problem doing it. After all, we’re boys, right? But then he tells me not to worry about it; he wasn’t gonna need my help after all. Alright, cool.

Some days later he calls, expressing displeasure at my not helping with the painting that one day. What?! He told me he wasn’t gonna need my help! Then he goes on talking about how it seemed to him like I didn’t wanna do it, and that after all he’d done for me I should’ve been there. What's worse, he gives me the cold shoulder for weeks & doesn’t wanna talk about it to squash the beef. WTF?

To me, in friendship you shouldn’t keep a tally of who’s done what for whom, unless it’s grossly one-sided, coz all some people wanna do is only holla at their ‘friends’ when they need favors. As far as I’m concerned, my friends don’t owe me anything. I don’t care what it is, but I’d never demand or expect that my friends do something for me. I’d ask, even cajole, but never would I question their loyalty or write them off if they couldn’t do it; that would be incredibly self-centered. The world doesn't revolve around me and what people should do for me.

Or this, true story: One time this chick called me and I missed the call. Then she called me a few hours later and left a message, talking about:
You didn’t pick up the phone when I needed you, so this is just to tell you that you don’t need to call me back, since I already took care of what I was calling you for.
That was some funny sh*t to me; was in stitches over that one. The nerve! And I was supposed to call back & apologize profusely? Puh-lease!

And that’s how it is in a nutshell, ladies & gentlemen. After observing this very juvenile drama, I suddenly felt like I had nothing to say to my friend. Am I wrong?

Either way, I don’t give a f*ck.

HUSTLIN' ERRDAY

2009-04-14T22:04:00.009-05:00

It's days like these, when I get back to the crib close to 11pm, that I wonder whether life is really worth it, especially considering that I've been up since 5.45 or thereabouts. I long for the comparatively laid-back Kenyan lifestyle; this sh*t here is crazy, an early sentence to the sanatorium.

But I'm a big boy, I'll live. Besides, I've Peter to keep me laughing. Not to mention some throwback clips of some of the wacky things I did back in the day. Feel free to peruse them at will.

[Pep talk to self:] And you know what, despite how much life sometimes sucks, it's not that bad. At least I can laugh for free.

QUOTES OF THE WEEK

2009-04-09T07:52:00.008-05:00

- "I fucks that duck up!"
[Co-worker expressing love for roast duck from a nearby Chinese takeaway]

- "As car-crazy as you be, I'll have to watch it with you."
[Lil' cuz, on watching the new Fast & Furious movie]

- "I'm not gonna need any alcohol, baby. I'll still be freaky."
[Overheard in some hotel lobby]

- "On the real tho, Kenyan women be the finest. Next to Ethiopians. Real talk."
[A classmate from Ghana sharing some of his wisdom]

- "Kumar, where's Harold today?"
[Engines II professor asking an Indian student why his Asian sidekick was missing from class. And no, dude's name isn't Kumar]
**If you haven't seen the Harold & Kumar movies, do yourself a favor and watch them.

"That machine's a pimp. It take your money & still stand right there lookin' at you."
(Yours truly consoling a classmate after the soda machine swallowed - and kept - his $1.25 without relinquishing a Sprite. He thought my wisecrack was hilarious, for whatever reason.

************************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

"And my jam knock in the Mitsubishi
Girls pee-pee when they see me
Navajos creep me in their tepee..."

Notorious BIG in One More Chance

TIME FLIES. APRIL ALREADY?!

2009-04-01T08:44:00.006-05:00

As weird as these pizza slices may seem, they were delicious. The pizzas are originals from a little known pizzeria in the area. Everything - and I mean everything - they make is great.

My lil' cuz wrote this poem for an assignment when he was in middle school; dude is one of those guys that are funny without them knowing. You can just feel the emotion, the indignation. He got an A-. Could've gotten a straight A had he plugged in that apostrophe in brothers and the comma after the last me.

For some reason this, at my co-worker's desk, cracks me up.

As does this.

Saw this on a dumptruck while stuck in DC area gridlock. It's not meant for we commuters, I know, but doesn't it look like someone had pushed already?

Came in to work this morning, turned the computer on, moved the mouse but the cursor wouldn't move. I unplugged and replugged it with the same result. Annoyed, I flipped it over and this is what I saw. Boss-man got jokes.

Happy April Fools!

TV WOES

2009-03-30T07:18:00.014-05:00

I haven’t had TV in the past couple of weeks and truth be told, I’d never thought it made such a difference. I only have 2 shows I watch on the regular, 24 and Nip/Tuck, and it’s been pissing me off to no end that I have to wait till the following day to catch them online.

[Hulu.com rules. It’s nice having all my shows on one site.]

Maybe it’s the lack of ambient noise I mostly use the TV for, or maybe it’s just the fact that I can’t watch anything, that bothers me so much. Best believe if the cable guy [hopefully not Larry] doesn’t come thru today I’ll act a fool. But at least the internet’s working; I’d much rather lose TV than internet. Real world proof: my lil' cousins connect to the web using their beloved Xbox 360° to watch NetFlix movies on their TV. I was thoroughly impressed. Apparently TVs will eventually be rendered obsolete.

And speaking of TVs, I moved to a new spot about a month ago and while moving stuff to the new place, tired quickly. After 9 hours of work and 5 hours of school I wasn’t exactly light on my feet so I was trying to move the stuff as quickly as possible so I could squeeze in 4-5 hours of sleep. On this particular trip I was moving the electronics, i.e. the computer and its various devices and peripherals, from the backseat to the sidewalk. Seeing how my PC is also my TV, home theatre system, movie player and all-round entertainment center, I should’ve been handling it like a baby. Mental fatigue, though, impaired my judgment and I placed my beloved monitor on the slim case of the PC.

As I was walking back to the car to grab some more stuff I saw, in my peripheral vision, the PC slip on something, maybe a pebble, and the monitor teetered for a long, terrible moment before finally succumbing to gravity, but I was already moving. Only a few feet away, I lunged for it, literally diving to catch it, knowing it would hurt when I hit the ground. To my horror, right beyond my reach the monitor's top right corner hit the pavement with a crack that resounded deep in my soul and milli-seconds later I hit the ground hard, leaving some skin on the concrete.

Expecting the worst, I inspected the monitor but to my surprise and relief it was intact, save for a scuff at the point of impact. Which goes to show LCD displays are sturdier than they seem. I'd always thought they were eggshell-like in fragility.

"Need some help carrying that stuff in?" a smoldering female voice inquired. Mortified, I looked up and, sitting on the front steps of her house in her bathrobe, cigarette dangling, was a middle-aged lady. [whom I later nicknamed Smokestacks - every time I get out the house she's out there smoking] She wore an expression of undisguised amusement, obviously having witnessed my antics and the monitor's near-demise.

Muttering incomprehensibly in the negative, I started moving stuff inside, careful and unhurried this time.

********************

Hip-hop quote of the day:

"I had to ask [ax?] her what she doing in that Caddy
She said 'Coz you're my baby I be stuntin' like my Daddy'..."

Fabolous in Jamie's & Ne-Yo's She Got Her Own

FTP

2009-03-26T14:27:00.010-05:00

FTP!!

***********************************

Hip Hop quote of the day:

"F*ck the police, that's how I treat 'em
We buy our way outta jail but we can't buy freedom..."

Kanye West in All Falls Down