Home | Deadly Weapon | Rabbit Head | Old Style


Your Ad Here

Featurettes:

Meanwhile...




Poor Man Carrington

It's been awhile since I talked to my people. I've been too busy trying to pay the rent to keep shit right. And because of that, I've lost my voice, and my ears, and maybe my eyes.

The truth be told, I told myself that I wouldn't post anything worthwhile to this site ever again. I figured I'd just rest off of making my pennies and dimes off of shitty ass ads. And who knows, after tonight, maybe I just will. But for the time being, for this moment, I plan to share myself with my people, if only but for one night. Because my heart is hurting, and I'm filled with fear.

See. Yesterday, as the story goes, I went to work, thinking to myself, that all I wanted to do was make it through the day without any bullshit happening. And by bullshit, I meant work related bullshit. All I wanted was to get to Friday, get my paycheck, cash it, and go home.

Sure, all the money would go to bills anyway, but shit, a bill paid is another month with a place to live, some central air in these hot, muggy days, some hot water to wash my ass up with, and some food. And if I made it to Friday without any shit happening, I'd have just that. But by the end of the day, I found out that Baby Jesus and the forces of nature had something else planned.

I came home Wednesday, got my mail and checked my calls like I normally do. And on the phone, the voice mail, the caller i.d. were phone calls from relatives, relatives, the majority I only see or hear from every blue moon. So, I knew some shit had happened.

I quickly called my mother. She didn't answer her home phone. So, I hit her up on her cell phone. She picked up. I asked her what had happened. Instead of telling me, she said she was on the way to my place once my sister came and picked her up. And right afterwards, she hung up.

At that moment, a chill ran down my spine. The worst went through my mind. I thought my grandmother had died. But the thing is, my mother didn't sound like her only mother had just left this earth. But by her not telling me, I knew it had to be someone in my family I really cared about. If it hadn't, why wouldn't she had just told me over the phone.

So, I went back to the phone and listened to all the messages. Most didn't reveal much. Then, went through the caller i.d. again. I checked to see who had called me that seemed out of the ordinary.

And there I spotted, back to back, two cousins who I hadn't seen in years. One of them, I used to be close to, and the other was one of those distant relatives you only see at family picnics and other weird shit like that. These two woman were sisters who really didn't get along. This made me think that my eldest aunt had died. And to be honest, to tell the sickening truth, I was a little relieved.

Because by then, my mind had started thinking the worst. I wondered if my cousin, who's a police officer, had been killed on the job. I wondered why my sister was picking up my mother, and from where. My mother never told me where she was at. I thought maybe my little nephew had died. And I just wanted to hit something. But then I thought, my mother would've sounded worser if it was her grandchild.

Then, I hoped it was just someone I didn't really care about like, I don't know, my crackhead uncle. I got a little sad for the moment, but soon, I felt an unexpected sense of freedom. What if he was dead? Then, a big part of my problems would die with him.

At this moment, I was really hoping it was him. And then, I thought things might not be so bad if it was my eldest aunt. Sure, I would be sad, but I saw myself getting over that grief pretty quickly. Soon after, I went through the list of distant cousins, aunts and uncles I probably wouldn't be too fucked up over. And I could feel a calming feeling coming over me.

It was at this moment my mother came through the door. She was with my sister and a cousin I actually like. They quickly told me that another aunt had been killed. She had been hit by a car early that Wednesday morning trying to catch a bus to work.

Then, they asked if I had seen any police cars or ambulances on my bus route to work. And I told them that I had. They relayed that I had passed the scene right after the accident had occurred. And for a moment, I was stunned. The ambulance that I had glanced at on the bus probably held the body of my dead aunt.

###

They stayed for awhile and told me that the family was gathering over at the dead aunt's house. I told them that I wouldn't be joining them. They left, and I stayed in the silence, my thoughts continuing to work through my head.

I wondered why I wasn't as sad as I thought I should have been. The only time I felt any sense of loss was when I thought of passing the accident. And the only real thing I've ever felt since hearing she passed is what I feel today, anxiety and fear.

###

When I opened up the door the next day after a day of bullshit work, I found my mother inside with my sister and two cousins of the male variety. They were laughing and eating, speaking positive, with joy, on memories of my late aunt. I did what I normally do, and then went to the back and took a shit/ Afterwards, I went to my room.

My mother later came back to me. She said she wanted to use my copier to make out some prints of the police report. Apparently some members of my family believe the accident may have been a hit and run. Some think there might be a wrongful death suit in the works. She told me she was making copies for a cousin who might file the claim for the family. Then she whispered something I feared hearing. Apparently, one of my relatives overheard two other aunts plotting to take over the late aunt's insurance policy and other finances.

At that moment, fear went through my body. I was expecting nothing less. Unfortunately, when it comes to money, my family is like a a group of baby rapists in a day care. And I wouldn't doubt that any one of them would slit my throat in a minute if large amounts of cash was on the line.

My mother told me that she had slowly, overnight, set up a Coalition of the Free of family members to take on the Axis of Evil that had formed the day before. The Coalition of the Free wanted to free the Axis of Evil of any money they might try to take hold of. And at that very moment, Coalition of the Free members were at the home of the dead aunt trying to free her home of any financial papers before the Axis of Evil could get their hands on anything. The only snag, Axis of Evil members were already at the home helping to "tidy" things up. And furthermore, my mother was on her way back to the battleground to join her members-in-arms.

When she left, I noted a distinct since of disturbance within my body, as if the bile deep within my belly was about to explode upward through my mouth and nose like a great volcano. I truly needed to sit. And as I sat, I remembered a conversation I had with one of the male cousins that had visited that day.

I remember telling him that the people I feared the most were the ones closest to me, like my family. He became upset that I would think that a family member would do any other family member any real harm. And I threw at him fake facts, shit I had overheard somewhere, like the news or something. I gave him this shit all tidied with fake bullshit percentages and everything.

Like: most people are more likely to be killed by someone they know then by a stranger. And, in fact, over 40% of all murders are committed by family members towards another family member. True. That's why when a wife goes missing, the first place the cops look is at the husband. And when a kid is killed, the first suspects are the parents, or at least the filthy fuck up the mother is shacking up with. That's why the person you should fear the most is the person that drinks with you, and smokes with you, and shares the same DNA.

He then angrily said that our family was nothing like that. Then I brought up a fucked up, cracked out female cousin who was known to steal from relatives. I asked my cousin if he thought that was right? He responded that he didn't think that was right. Then I brought up my cousin's brother, who's a known thug. I asked him if he thought it was brotherly when his brother stole his new pair of Air Force Ones. He said that it wasn't right. So, I responded, if his brother would do something un-brotherly like steal from him, what would stop his un-brother from doing worse, like murder. And at this moment, my cousin sat still.

Because he knew the old adage, if you lie, you steal. And if you steal, what on earth would stop you from killing.

That's why, in this world, every man should know never ever to trust no one, which probably means trust everybody but actually means, always keep your gun loaded especially when family comes-a-calling.

By the way, you can use that in the chorus of your next rap song.

P.S. If you don't hear from me again, expect that a relative has come and killed me.


Say Yes


The Predator

Katie sent me a message on MySpace. She wrote that she really wants to be friends with me. She even sent a picture of herself, and she looks quite nice, if only a little too young for my tastes.

nbc_hanson_chris_051107.jpgTo Katie, I really appreciate you giving yourself out like that. It makes me proud that young girls across the world are sending out pretty little messages to nice young gentlemens such as myself.

For awhile I thought I had lost it. I haven't had a date in four months. And I haven't gotten laid since the beginning of last summer. In fact, I only recently knocked a good one out after a six month drought. I think I was due one.

So, when I got that little message from Katie, and that sweet little picture of her posing in her white top and little black skirt, I nearly flipped my wig. It was a welcomed sight, and it made a lonely boy happy again.

So, again, thank you Katie. You've once again made Uncle Sam proud. And I hope that one day we might meet. Word to Chris Hansen.


Dead in the Woods

Man robs bank to be 'supported'

Everybody needs a little support every once in awhile.  Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on, and a lap to lie their head.  I know I do. 

These have been trying times for your neighborhood soothsayer.  I may be able to practicate that fortunality in a disambiguous fashion, but in no way am I able to stand myself separate from its hands.  These days, the truth takes its fingers about my neck easily, and squeezes heavily until the last gasp exits my body.  And I can do nothing but let it.

And if I should continue with such honest confession, let me state that fates visage stares about my wreakage and holds steady until ready to topple my very existence.  That is why I am so weary.  That is why the wetness escapes my eyes nightly.  It is for this that I have contemplated ending it all, or at least almost it all. 

Standing helplessly is no way a grown male human should be perceived.  And my opposite finds me weak for admitting this fallacy of my form.  So be it.  But I can no longer lie about such truths.  I must be honesty with myself.  I must make solid and whole my cowardice. 

And for that, I shall state that my innards should so match my new-formed femininity.  I should be so pleased to bear child within me, and to have such being suckle from my mammary.  Perhaps I should injest teas and soy to hurried the result. 

Should a being as low as I not want this outcome no less than the continued beating that is taken by the hands of Nature, a great mother of sort.  Or perhaps, may I not want to continue to be the dog that sits before the feet of thy ethereal Paradise.  The cocksucker of the Universe, the devil of the mortal walking dead.

But as such, being that I am man, and as man, I want far greater than my reach can grasp.  Even when my reach does break free, is it not as fate to let that great gift, so sweet and fragrant, become an even heavier burden to hold between my limbs. 

It is for this that I shall continue in my sickness, my misfortune to grow with the grand melancholy befitting an animal such as I.  To be truthful of myself is to walk about the knees, and partake of the meal that only a mealy-mouthed cocksucker such as I should only prefer.

powered by performancing firefox


Hee-Hee - Tee-Hee

Teens Go Public With Their Pubics

One night several weeks ago -- it may have been over a month or two (Who knows.) -- I was awaken to the sounds of laughter coming from outside.  I went to my front room window and peaked carefully from between the blinds.  And before my eyes, I couldn't believe what was taking place.  There were several young people, running around in the street, completely naked.  That's right, people, completely naked.

I would have turned my gaze right then and there until I spotted several busty young females among the group.  They were running and jumping and laughing, having a grand ole time. 

I watched them attentively, catching their youth parade itself before me.  If only they were all women.  Oh, how that night might have ended.  Ummm, sock, January 2001, a vintage year.  But I digress, I watched these youngsters run about, and then I took to my bedding and slept until the morning. 

My neighbor came downstairs a little before noon the next day.  She told me that she had also took sight of the young ones parading about our city street.  She related that she had heard from several others throughout the community that this incident was not isolated. 

She told me that it had been reported to her that the young ones had been disrobing throughout the summer at an alarming rate, at least once a week, possibly two to three times a month.  Needless to say, I was shocked, and a tad bit disappointed.  If only I had known in advance, I might have had a choice in scenery, so to speak.  But, again, I digress.

Apparently, the young ones had taken to performing some form of adolescent ritual which required them to disrobe in public and run about making noise, bringing attention to themselves.  I can only assume it was some form of rite of passage, and a darn good one to boot.

If only I was young again.


powered by performancing firefox


Spoiled Rotten

New York City?

theapplecity.jpgI was on Boing, Boing earlier reading this post on death.  Discover has this page up with 20 facts on death.  Most of the info was interesting, but one fact blew my mind.  More people commit suicide in New York City than are murdered.  And here I thought New York City was the hardest place on the planet.  Come to find out that the whole city is made up of a bunch of cowardly little pussies.

At first, I was gonna give those dudes the benefit of the doubt.  I mean, two planes were rammed into two of their buildings, and thousands of people died.  But, then I started thinking, New York City can't be any worse than any of the other rat traps on this planet. 

I mean, I'm hit over the head with it daily about how great New York City is with it's entertainment, and theater, and music.  I'm told over and over again that New York City is the liveliest city on the planet.  And if you make it there, you can make it anywhere.  Apparently, a nice number of New Yorkers can't.

And it definitely can't be as bad as living in a city in Iraq, or living in the rubble that's the Gaza Strip.  It can't be as bad as living in a city in Israel, not knowing when some Arabs gonna blow himself up, or launch a missile at you.  And it can't be as bad as living in any AIDS-ridden, starvation-filled place in the Congo. 

The truth is, the world is made up of places worser.  And those people living there ain't taking themselves out like New Yorker.  No, those foreigners take their rapes, and their mutilations, and their muderin's like a man.  Unlike those beyotches in New York.

Apparently, even with all that the Big Apple has to offer, people would rather slit their wrists than live in that filthy, crack-filled, hellhole another second.

I would have sympathy for them and say "Who can blame them," but the City won't let me out of pride.

powered by performancing firefox


Watch Your Back

Tool Generates Fake Searches for Privacy

I remember one time doing a Google image search for  "bestiality."  For some reason I was really curious as to what I would come up with.  And man, did I come up with some mind-altering stuff (Whoopi and Ted Danson pics).  It was clearly sickening and filthy, and it stayed with me for quite awhile.  I remember, afterwards, telling myself that I would never do something like that again. 

Of course, it  completely slipped my mind when, sometime later, I did a search for "fudge munching."  Man, that sure was some sick stuff that popped up that time.  Golly Geewillikers.  (I hope I spelled that right?)  It messed me up for quite awhile.  I remember telling myself that I would never do that again.  And I don't think I have (liar).  Although, I've been tempted.

There's always something you know you shouldn't plug into a search engine, but you do, because, well, you're curious (Goatse), and possibly really horny at the time.  It's through these vulnerable times that I believe most people get infected with one of those nasty computer viruses.

I mean, you could be innocently searching for "naked britney spears golden shower" and get a hit or two.  Of course, all the videos have to be fake, because Britney would never do anything filthy like that.  Maybe Christina, but not Britney.  But you're curious.  You wanna know what you'll find.  So, you click that link, and next thing you know, you get hit with a million pop-ups. 

You try clicking them all away.  And by randomly clicking, and not reading, you inadvertently let some malicious site load a virus on your system.  And you know the rest.  Your computer's toast, and you got a lot of digital cleaning to do.

Of course, the greater problem, especially in these times, is that the man is keeping a record of all that crap, waiting to use it on a righteous negro like myself.  They've been suing these search engine companies left and right, trying to get a hold of them search logs.  I heard the man plans on using that information to put the lockdown on pornography, most notably, child ponography. 

And I guess I wouldn't have a problem with that if the government limited the use of those logs to the baby rapists, because I hate those freaks, and they definitely need to be locked up.  But we all know, from JFK, to negros being intentionally infected with syphilis, down to CointelPro, the white devil has a tendency of doing some nasty secret crap on a negro. 

One minute you're searching for naked pics of Beyonce, the next , you got the FBI busting down your door at five in the morning, tearing through your stuff, taking away your cds of nice legal porn and copyrighted material.  Now where you at?

And that's why, a righteous black man gotta protect himself.  That's why I keep my computer on lockdown with all kinds of security crap.  I got my router firewall, and my Outpost software firewall.  I keep Spy Sweeper running in the background, and I use Windows Defender and that Lavasoft crap.  I encrypt all my messages with that PGP crap, and I even encrypt my hard drive, the whole dang thing.  I clear out my Firefox history and logs.  I clear out them cookies.  And once a year, I reformat my hard drive to make sure things be clean for the new year.

Unfortunately, a brother gotta do these things, and many others, because you never know when the white devil's coming to get a brother.


powered by performancing firefox