Monday, June 30, 2008

I Love Wack People...

It took me a minute to complete this club blog.

I was heading to the gym, trying to write it on my bberry, but this latina next to me was talking some serious doo doo on her phone, so I couldn't focus. From what I gathered, she had just gotten into a fist fight with "some bitch" and was heading back to Brownsville, BK for some reinforcements.

She was kinda cute (I know you assholes were wondering). Despite a few bloody scratches on her face, she made it seem like she beat "the bitch" ass (No Pause). She simply wanted to go home, so she can "put sneakers on, wrap her hair" and return to inflict some more bodily harm to "that Biiiiiittcchhh!" She was talking so much ass that this 50-something white man next to me cowardly whispered: "would you shut the fuck up?"

Anyway, we got off at the same stop. Right when she stood by the train doors to make her exit, some corn bucket started trying to holler. It went a little something like this.

Corn Bucket: Where you going?

Pissy Chick: To Brownsville, so I can wrap my hair, get my sneakers and beat this bitch ass.

Corn Bucket: Let me get your number.

Pissy Chick: I don't have no phone on me. [Blogger's Note: Mind you the pissy chick was talking some serious horse ish on the phone minutes earlier.]

Corn Bucket: You wanna take mine?

Pissy Chick: I'll be around.

What a cunt muffin!!! Pardon the eavesdropping, but I blame the chick for first disturbing my blogging and then hooking me to her convo. Besides, this 24.6 (seconds) exchange was just too golden for me to mind my business this particular time. I'm no expert or anything, but why would you ask for the number so quickly? Bump that! Why would you try to get with a chick with a bloody face? You may as well try to bag a pregnant woman.

That being said, I'm not too mad at the corn bucket. Lames like him make us regular dudes look good. All that dumb stuff only works with poultry. I mean, I love doing hood rat stuff with my friends and all, but I'm allergic to birds. I love wack people, though. Thanks for making me look better. But here's my question. Do you think wack people know they suck? Most of the ones I know, don't. By the way, the Phillies are on a winning streak.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Why Do We Go To Clubs Anyway?

I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t go to clubs to listen to music. I got plenty of that at the crib.

I don't dance with girls that often, but let's keep it funky here, fellers. We've all been told: "No thanks. I like to dance by myself." Pffttt! I thought that was bullcrap until I ended up talking to this girl. She liked the kid, but it turns out that she really didn't like dancing with dudes.

Per most of my homegirls, women go to the club to have fun, dance and listen to music. Me,not so much. When I first started going out, it was all about the ladies. I went out in hope to get me some new digits. And you dunn know the joint better not be a sword fight. Then I went through a phase where I never went out. I mean, you go out, spend a bunch of money on drinks, but for what? I just didn't see the point.

I'm back in party mode these days. The funny thing is, I don’t care whether I meet new girls or not. If it happens, it happens. I just wanna have some fun. Still, the joint better not be no freakin’ sword fight. As anal (pause) as I am about the men/women ratio, it almost doesn’t matter at the end of the day.

Me and the homie Jesus went to Pink Rabbit (no strip club) with the fam on Friday. What a dump! There wasn’t even one almost cute shorty in there. Thankfully, we still had fun. We cracked plenty of jokes and danced to some old school. Fun times! Sure, it’s always cool to meet someone new, but it won’t make or break my evening. What about you guys? Why do you go to clubs? Oh, and just in case one of you douches get any idea, Phillies won. 13-0.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

The Bitch Wasn't There...

Isahia Carrey is back.

Just last week, I posted an hilarious clip of this news reported cussing up a storm after fly dove into his mouth in the middle of news brief. Well, it turns out that the "roving reporter" has one or five funny clips on youtube. Actually, I'm starting to question whether he's real or not. Bottom line, he's the funniest dude in America this week. Peep for yourself.

"The Bitch Wasn't There"



"I Ain't Got No Prompter"


Tell me you just didn't pee your freakin' pants. I cried earlier at work today and I'm still busting out laughing now. My fortune (not much) for anybody who can find this guy's myspace.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Please Don't Die, Amy Winehouse...




I don't usually use the word "bitch," but considering how much of a douche Amy Winehouse is, I may drop it here and there in this entry.

I need an intervention, but I don't I want one. I've been addicted to Amy Winehouse's Back To Black for just about a week now. I know it's old. Shoot! I've had it for over a year, but I inexplicably didn't spend much time listening to it until recently. I liked her singles, but somehow couldn't focus when I tried absorbing the entire CD.

Though she's obviously talented, I first noticed there was something about Amy when I heard "Valerie" off Mark Ronson's Version last year. And then there was her Grammy speech where she bigged up her man in jail. Still, at that point my liking her had little to do with her music. I just liked her like that. But I recently heard "Tears Dry On Their Own" while shopping for DVDs at Union Square's Virgin Mega Store and I think it did it for me. "Is that Amy," I asked my friend. It was. The trip lead to me revisiting Back To Black and I've been hooked ever since.

There's a feeling I struggle to describe when it comes to music. I usually say that I get lost in certain recordings. That's exactly what Amy does. Like, I forget where I am when I listen to her. I got it bad, man. I loves her. If she keeps it up, I may have to put her up there with my booty boo, Erykah Badu.That's saying a lot.

I already can't wait for the next album, but I'm concerned. I mean, this cock sucker is so reckless she may just not make it. And damn it, as much as I've been oding on Amy in the past week, life without her just seems unbearable right now. I need some fresh material. I'm sure she's offended one or three people in the past year, but I don't care as long as she keeps making dope music. So listen here, Amy. You can keep using dope. You can even smoke crack on youtube. You can punch your punk ass boyfriend, drive drunk, get arrested, spit on fans, skip your own shows, make allegedly racist videos, faint and get hospitalized, but don't you die on me bitch, you hear me? Don’t you dare kick the bucket. You owe me a couple of albums before you do.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

It's Gonna Be A Hot Summer...


Tiff, Anna, Hobbs & Kim...

"It's a great night in New York City" --Hobbs.

Chuch! The heatwave is technically over, but things are just starting
to warm up in NYC.

When I heard the Bedford Boys (Roni, Hobbs & Chad) were throwing a Rooftop Party (where the hell is Dre?) this weekend, I knew it was on. I mean, I can't remember the last time we had an off night. We have fun whenever we regroup. But I can't even front, the party exceeded my expectations.

There are four keys to a classic party. Good music, good vibe, a favorable girl/guy ratio (no sword fight) and former SOHH On The Scene model,Sam Ed. If Sam Ed ain't at your party, your joint probably sucks, b.The Rooftop Jump Off was just that...classic!

I played doorman, escorting people to the rooftop for most of the night, but still had a ball. The joint got so live, 5-0 had to shut it down.Shoot! Technically, the party didn't stop until Sunday morning. If this weekend is an indication of things to come, it's gonna be a hot summer for real, Cam.

To B. Dot and Mark, ya'll missed a good one. Shouts to everybody I chilled with this weekend: Roni, Chad, Hobbs, Anna, Tiff, Kim, Papa Hobbs, Rod, Joe, Chris (ATL), Al, Dallas, Jesus, Yvette, Sam Ed, Cash, Damian,Chris (beautiful egyptian-haitian. She's a girl...no pause), Brian, Kevin, Jen,Candace, Jess, Kev Clark, Chris (the DJ), Lande, Lenny, Anslem, Travis, Rondell, Hyun, Ricky, James, Nadege, Erik P, Patrice...if I missed anybody, I'll get you next time.



Thursday, June 12, 2008

I Can't Stop Laughing... Again

I had another one of them long ass laughs yesterday.

My co-worker IM'd me this clip where a fly goes into a news correspondent's mouth while he's reporting. The funny thing is dude talked all extra proper, putting on his Bryant Gumble voice, but he switched up the second the fly caught him. Dude was cussing all over the place. Me, I was laughing all over the place. I would laugh, stop for a few minutes and then laugh again.See for yourself



Now tell me you still ain't laughing.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Let's Play The Asshole Game...PAUSE of course!

So the homie Jesus has consistently been hitting the gym with me for at least a month.

We have our routine down by now. We hit the tredmill for a half hour and then the eleptical (with handles) for another half. It gets pretty busy on week nights, so by the time we get to the eleptical, they're occupied. This is where my juvenile streak comes in.

See, I'm a bit (read a whole lot) more blunt than Jesus. If you have anything over 5 minutes left on the machine, I'm kicking that ass off. Why should I be lenient? A while back, these fa'nooks tried to kick us off. While Jesus immiediately stepped off, I told dude to come back 'cause I had four minutes left. Unfair I know, but I can be anal (PAUSE²) like that.

Anyway! Lately, whenever we get to the eleptical, there's always one available and one occupied. I usuall run to the empty one to force Jesus to kick somebody off. It backfired yesterday, though. I get on the joint and start peddling and ...nothing! The joint didn't even work. Still, I kept going and used J's timer as a reference. Who cares if I don't see how many calories I'm burning? I'm still sweating.

But peep this. Roughly 35 minutes later, I'm downstairs stretching my legs. You know the stretch where you bend your leg backwards and it nearly touches your back? So I'm stretching and don't notice that the garbage bin is so close. I put my leg down and...PAP...it falls into the bin. I hop off one foot, almost fall, and then go back to stretching like nothing happened.

So after stretching, I working on abs and this cock sucker is just monopolizing the ab machine. "I only have three more sets," she informs me. So rather than alternate with me, this douche rests on the machine and then proceeds with her exercise. She's lucky I wasn't chewing any gum. I would have thrown it at her.

What's your procedure? Do alternate, or hog the damn machine?

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Look Ma, I'm On TV


Me And Alicia Keys On The Same Screen Don't Look Too Bad...


So people have been telling me they saw me on TV all weekend.

I knew what it was. A few weeks back, I headed back to the old J.O. and served as one of the talking heads for the BET Awards Nominations Special, I Wanna Thank My Mama. According to a few people, I was one of the few people shown in the commercial. I hadn't seen it until a few minutes ago.

Mind you, I've been on TV before, so it's never been that big of a deal. But, I inexplicablyhad a "look Ma, I'm on TV moment just now. I'm on the phone with my friend when suddenly I see this familiar dude on the screen. "Oh shoot! I just saw me on TV." My dumb bass rewinded the DVR, paused it and took a damn flick of the TV, so I can send it to my moms. Ghe...tto!


The Phillies Won...





The irony is that I could give a flying 747 frrrrrr if the Phillies won or not. I haven't cared for them since Lenny Dykstra was their lead off hitter.

Here's the thing, though. Me and the fellers slang it up so much, that outsiders can listen in on our conversations and feel like we're speaking a different language. Our lexicon is constantly being updated. If Sam Ed doesn't come up with something new, then Mark does. If Roni doesn't, then Hobbs will. The same thing goes for my dudes in Montreal. If Edcredible doesn't, then Fred does. If not Qwest, then me. I remember my sister telling me that she has no clue what me and my friends talk about sometimes. We just slang it up too much.

Allow me to introduce you to the latest saying. I don't watch Family Guy religiously, but I do reckon that it's an hilarious ass show. Per Hobbs, there's this episode where Brian or somebody just starts ranting away. Uninterested, Stewie responds by saying, "The Phillies won." He couldn't give a damn. Basically, "The Phillies won" is just about the most smart ass way you can let somebody know you don't give a hoot.

I'm sure you've been in conversations you didn't particularly care for. I hate to do it, but I must take a recent example. I'll just make it anonymous. I'm 6'1," but look taller or shorter depending who you ask. Every now and then, some 5'9" and 3/4 dude tells me we're the same height. Shoot! It happened just last night. See for yourself.

5'9": Yo, Carl. How tall are you? You're not as tall as I thought.

Carl: [I don't really care look on his face] I'm 6'1".

5'9": That means we're the same height.

Carl: [Still not caring] Oh ok.

Hobbs: The Phillies won.

The next time somebody talks some nonsense, just chime in, "The Phillies won." You have to say it with a dry sarcastic tone. One more example.

Daddy Mack: Ayo, Carl. I bet you I bag more chicks than you, b.

Carl: The Phillies won.

Try it sometimes and once you do, let me know how it went.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

LOL My Ass...

News flash! LOL means laughing out loud.

Meaning, if somebody makes you laugh out loud, you write LOL back. Pardon me, but ya'll know I can be quite literal. Anyway, I always say there's two kinds of funny. If you react to something saying, "that's funny," the joke probably didn't tickle you much. But, if you literally bust out laughing, especially when reading something, chances are it was funny. Notice, on top of saying LOL, when it's out loud funny, you'll actually tell your friend,"dude, I literally laughed just now."

The thing is, LOL has lost its value. Shoot, I'm a violator myself. Personally, it has turned into a one word answer when I try to speed up conversations. It has many functions, though.

Ladies, say some cocky ass dude you know sends you photos for whatever reason and writes, "don't I look like Morris Chestnut" at the end of the email. You may wanna reply with, "LOL." See, if dude has a fart face, it may have actually been funny, but not out loud funny.

Say some bum ass publicist chick is sweating me on IM. She's pitching away and at some point randomly says," "so, when are you writing about my client." I'll respond,"we'll see, LOL" just so she gets off my freakin' cabbab.

Then, there's the nervous LOL. The LOL you type because you're being dead ass, but you're too much of a punk to just come out say what you have to say. That way, you can always say, "but I said LOL" when things don't go your way.

You know what's sad, I'll probably remain an LOL violator. And if one of you guys call me out on it, I'll just delete this post and act like I don't know what you're talking about. Any of you got some LOL stories?

Monday, June 2, 2008

Catch Me On The Real World Next Season...




This Season of MTV's The Real World is the best I've seen in a minute.

It's like two months deep now and I'm still following it religiously. Unlike many faithfuls, I don't detest Greg the most. His entertainment value is unmatched. I hate Kate, though. She's a freakin' cocker.


Usually, I tune out after a month or so either because I lost interest, or can't bare to watch 'cause the black characters are corny, unattractive, unrelatable, stereotypical or absent. The say never say never. Well, I would never apply for The Real World. Besides, I lack the main criteria, crying. I would probably be a little too blunt or insensitive for the roomates' taste.

Still, you're likely to see me on the show next season. No, I didn't apply or anything, but The Real World is coming to Brooklyn and they start filming this summer. I still live in Queens, but the crib is so close to Kings County that I hang out there most of the time. Reportedly, the roomates will be living in this $6 Million complex in Downtown Brooklyn. Dude, I'm crashing. No, seriously. Saturdays at the Real World house this summer. My go-to BK folks are all on the same page too.

Don't be surprised if you catch me and my boys (PAUSE) in the jacuzzi (we won't be alone) in Episode 4. My goal is to have one of my boys hook up with one of the roomate chicks. Since I'm too private of a person, I'm taking myself out of the running, but I absolutely will be wingmaning it. That's goal no.1. No.2, I wanna make a roomate cry. Ok, I kid...maybe. Anyway, I wonder which one of my boys is likely to get with a roomate. I vote for Sam Ed. I don't know why, I just do. The Real World: Brooklyn, uh? Thoughts?