Saturday, May 31, 2008

I Still Eat With A Bib...And What!

Ya'll can kiss my bib, cause I still wear one.

Me and a few friends of mine went out to eat last night and since I wasn't trying to splatter alfredo sauce on my polo shirt, I made a bib out of two napkins. You know what, though. My shirt is still spotless. Come to think about it, I'll give you a pass if you put a scarf inside and use it as a bib. And come to think about it, I think I wear more Polo than Trick Daddy Dollars.

Anyway, as pictured above, I look a bit preoccupied. The truth is, I saw my friend pull out the camera on me and quickly turned right, so she wouldn't get a frontal shot (Pause just in case). Flash Gonzales, I told you! My question to you guys is, looking at the flick above, does it look like I'm staring at something in particular? If so, what is it? Speak on it.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Dude, The American Dollar Is Worst Than You Think...

You can't really grasp something until you experience it firsthand. Like, I keep hearing about gas prices, but since I don't have a car, it's not affecting me yet. No offense, but until I decide to cop a whip, I almost don't care. Sorry, it's just my nature.

I went to Canada this weekend for the first time in almost a year. I crossed the border with like $22 US dollars in my pocket thinking I'd just hit up an ATM when I need some change. By the way, by all accounts, Canadian gas prices are jacked the fruck up too. So, the first night, I stop by this gas station and try to make a withdrawal. I'm thinking I'm only here for a few days, so a buck would do. Denied! "Your transaction cannot be processed at the moment. Try again later," the notice read. ?????

After trying a few more times, I notice that my transaction may have been denied because that particular ATM carried Visa only. Cool! A few hours later, I find what I thought was the appropriate ATM, and nothing. "Please contact your branch." I'm thinking it must be an ATM thing, I'll use my debit card when I need to cop something. Pfffttt! My joint got denied at KFC the next day. [Blogger's Note: Canadian KFC> American KFC. Canadian strawberry licorice > American strawberry licorice]

Anyway, so I'm talking to a few of my friends who are planning to crash the big apple this summer and they're all telling me the American and Canadian dollar are neck and neck. I thought I was at peace with the dollar momentarily being moreless equivalent to its northern neighbor until my mother informed me that the Canuck dollar was now worth more. WTF? Dude, I was born in Canada, but you dunn know I gives a damn about the flag. It's just how us Haitian kids do. That being said, the American dollar needs to make a comeback ASAP solely for personally selfish reasons. I remember going back to Canada like ten years ago and getting $600 canadian dollars for my $400 american bucks. Nowadays, not so much.

Just yesterday my sister brought me shopping and it cost me an arm and two legs. Had the US coin been in its glory days, I probably would have spent 40 to 45% of the retail price in US currency. You'll really get to feel that dollar when you leave the country, trust. Now, it looks like I'll have to fork up the full price, or God forbid, more money. Check it, not only are their dollar allegedly worth more, they won't let you use their ATM. I'm hoping Barak Obama has an answer. And while he's at it, if elected, I hope cab drivers start picking up my ass. Come on, people. They already have better KFC, strawberry licorice and Hockey players. Let them have those, but please take the dollar. Speak on it.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

My Dreams Make Absolutely No Sense...

It's funny cause a friend and I have been talking about dreams lately.

I was telling her how my dreams hardly ever make sense. I used to get chased a lot in my dreams. Cops, skinheads and giant robots were all trying to catch the kid. I know, I know. By most accounts, the chase supposedly means that I'm running away from something in real life. I haven't figured it out yet, but at least it's been a long while since I've had one of those.

Anyway, the giant robots never get me. You know why? Cause I'm fast, son. I'm Flash Gonzalez. Just yesterday, I was stuck downstairs buying a new Metrocard at the Fresh Pond Road station when I heard my train coming. Only one thing though, the freakin' machine was on break or something. I even heard the doors open like a second before my card and receipt finally came out. Then, yoink! I snatched the card, ran up the stairs and got in before the doors closed.

Sorry for going off on a tangent. But, they say we dream every night, but only remember portions if anything at all. I had this one dream where I was in a never-ending gym and couldn't get off the floor. Every time I tried to stand up, I would bust my ass. Last night's dream started in a gym too. One of you guys, (I forgot which one) bet me that I couldn't dunk. Pffffttt! I got tapes to prove it. So I threw the ball in the air, let it bounce off the floor, caught it and then slammed it with one hand.

But here's the weird part. Later in the dream, I was at a round table with two obscure ass fellers and one Clifford "T.I. " Harris. ?????? We were actually discussing some political stuff. So at one point, T.I. calls me into question. Mind you, I've met dude several times, but I don't know him. In the dream, we knew each other. "That stuff is debatable, Carl," T.I. told me. "Haiti wasn't the first successful slave revolt." What? 1804, son! Then this asshole told me he got his information from Miss Info. ?????? [Blogger's Note: T.I. has never been an a-hole to me in-person, but the dream version was a douche.]

To make matters even more nonsensical, it turns out that John Edwards was one of the other dudes at the table. I wanna say Barak Obama was the 4th dude, but I just can't remember clearly.

How weird is that? What about you guys? What's the weirdest dream you've had? Speak on it.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

I Almost Stole Twinkies From K-Mart

Anybody that knows knows me, knows that I'm one of the most SCA-TTER brain people on earth.

That's why I walk into walls, lose CDs and umbrellas and go through my whole apartment looking for my iPod when it's already in my hand.

I was at K-Mart looking for a Timex watch earlier today. Since I can't find a regular freakin' watch, I thought I'd cop a Timex in the meantime. For some reason, I'm stuck on having a transparent design, but you dunn know my ass couldn't find nothing.

Since I can't find the right time, I thought I'd pick me up a box of Little Debbie Boston Creme Rolls. I'm off the wagon again. It's bad, b. So I'm walking, Macy’s bag and Creme Roll box in the same hand, slowly making my way out of K-Mart. The second I got near the exit, I noticed this security guard lady looking at me. She was just staring at the kid, so I started thinking I had a booger on the edge of my nose or something. Then it hit me. I was about to walk out of the store without paying for the twinkies. It's not like I was trying to hide the box or anything, I was just distracted. But picture me trying to tell the cops that I stole the twinkies cause I'm scatter brain. Even worst, I just got home like an hour ago, poured water in a pot to boil it, but I put it in the freakin’ stove. Scatter brain, I tell you. You just can't make up that kinda stuff.

I'm sure you guys get distracted sometimes. Maybe not like me, but then again who does. Speak on it!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

...Pause >>>>> No Homo

Unless I was quoting, I've never said, "no homo" a day in my life.

My thing was...I'm secure with my sexuality, so I didn't need a freakin' disclaimer. Hearing it annoyed the hell out of me. I didn't say "pause" much either. But it all changed when I started spending more time with my boys Hobbs, Roni and them. Them dudes just said "pause" after anything remotely resembling a homosexual reference. "Meet me by Western Beef, pause!" Mind you, Western Beef, pause, is a freakin' retail supermarket. And don't let them catch you slipping. They'll get in yo ass, pause!

One day Roni caught me slipping and he let me have it...pause! But he explained that he did it for the sport, nothing more, nothing less. Shoot! I've been playing ever since, and I stepped my game up after interviewing Dame Dash. When referring to his net worth, dude said something like, "it's liquid, I can't touch it, pause." Now you won't hear me say words like, "meat, beef, long, big, T-Pain, stiff, hard, thick, hit, down, dig, wood, suck, ride, swollow, poke, hole, ass, eat, touch, load, flexible" without saying pause immediately after. Ironically, we say it so smoothly now, that there's hardly any pause at all before saying pause.

The funny thing is, some people still seem confused when they hear us pausing all over the place. Some of the XXL staffers apparently didn't get it when my co-worker Jayson, who only pauses around me and Anslem, another co-worker, paused. Similarly, last weekend, we had to explain to our homegirls, Tiffanny, Anna and Kim, the whole logic behind "pause." So, just in case some of you guys aren't too familiar with it, allow me to demonstrate.

-"My schedule is full right now. But I should be pretty flexible, pause, next week."

-"I just got out of this test. It was so hard, pause."

-"Damn! That's a heavy load, pause."

-"I feel like eating meat, PAUSE²."

You get the gist. Speak on it.

Monday, May 12, 2008

My Proudest Embarrassing Moment

This episode keeps coming back up, so I figured I'd share it with you guys.

The location, some club in West Palm Beach, where me Lowkey and them were chillin' during BET's Spring Bling back in March. So we're having fun, slowly getting past the tipsy point and I'm talking to this chocolate P.Y.T. Some dreadlocked dude was trying his best to handcuff to no avail.

At some point, I ease off the jokes and turn around to talk to my boy E. I take one step towards him and suddenly, "waaaaaaaaapppp!" My feet leave the ground and I BBbust my ass. I lost it immediately. Started laughing uncontrollably, tapped the floor a few times with my right hand and then finally got up. "Hold up," E interjects. "How the hell do you still have a drink in your hand?" Apparently, I managed to not spill my drink during the fall. Ask Lowkey. Seconds later, I go back to shorty still laughing. "Please don't fall again," she joked right before giving me her number. Funny stuff!!!!

That was my proudest embarrassing moment. I'm pretty scatter brain, so potential bloopers are many and close between for me. I probably walk into a random wall once a week. I'm so used to it by now, I just hit the obstacle and keep it moving. I remember this other funny episode on a New York City bus, Q85 in Queens to be exact. So the bus is speeding and I'm at the bottom of the back stairs waiting to get off at the next stop. By the way, I have the horribly bad habit to not hold onto anything when I commute. So suddenly the bus driver hits the breaks. I try to grab the handle, miss it and "booooom," fall sitting on the stairs. Again, I start laughing, turn around and nobody dares to join in. I get off the bus, still laughing, look inside and everybody just busts out laughing. Funny stuff!!!

I do have an authentic embarrassing moment, though. I must have been like 9, 10 at the time. This one day, I was in class and just couldn't stop sneezing. Atchou! Atchou! Atchou! Dude! I went A-A-A- Atchou! Waaaaaammp! I farted! I sneezed and followed-up with a freakin' fart. There was no running for cover, and definitely no laughing on my part. They all knew it was me.

I'm sure you guys have some embarrassing moments. How did you handle the situation? Speak on it.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

I Have No Life...

Well, not really.

I stayed at the crib to watch the Celtics/Cavs game last night, but besides that I've been balancing work, the gym, a little partying and "me" time pretty evenly this year. I have no blog life, though.

I'm sure you've noticed that I haven't been blogging much as of late. Sure, the new job adjustment has something to do with it, but truthfully, I haven't had much to talk about. I was over my boy Hobbs' crib this past Friday and our friends Tiffanny and Kim kept joking, "is this a blog? Are you gonna blog about this?" Afraid not.

Older ladies haven't been stepping on my sneakers, Erykah Badu still got a phat ass, scarves are still the new shades, fa' nooks (not that there's anything wrong with that) still refuse to wear towels at the gym, I'm still scruffy, I still don't look like Mos Def and I haven't been dating much as of late, so there aren't any dumb blonde episodes to report. Besides, I put the breaks on the dating tales anyway. It's just not fair. Picture me finding out about a chick blogging about me. I'd have material for months.

Other than crack a few jokes, this has definitely been a venting space, so I guess things are going great. I can't find anything to complain about. But this has always been about you guys speaking on the topic just as much as me writing on it. So until somebody pisses me off, you guys tell me. How's life? Got one? Speak on it.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Watches, Sneakers, The Women Stuff Is Always Better...

By now you guys should know a few things about me. I love Erykah Badu. I only wear scarves when it's cold OUTSIDE and I don't do no freakin' fancy stuff.

A few weeks back, me and the homie Jesus hit the gym for a little work out. So we're in the locker room and Jesus is just ready to fling his bag in the first available joint. Meanwhile, I'm specifically looking for a long locker (not those little ones) with at least three hooks. "Oh my God," Jesus realizes. "You're picky with lockers just like with women." Pfffft! Picture me shopping. It's even worst.

Summertime is right around the corner, so I thought I'd spend half my second tax return on some stuff today. Please! I came back to the crib with a pack of extra spearmint gum. First, I hit Macy's and spent roughly 30 minutes combing through the watch department. Dude, the second I almost liked one, there was always some random diamonds or a zipper on the side to mess it up.

I did find some nice joints, but they were all women models. That's my word, the women designs are always better to me. It's like with sneakers. I hit Downtown Brooklyn for kicks like two weeks ago and all the joints I liked only had women sizes. The men's joints had some random ass stripes and polka dots in the wrong places. If you ask me, women stuff>>>>>man stuff. What do you guys think? Speak on it!