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Sunday, August 30, 2009
mj x p = james brown
in this clip: james brown concert in '83. michael does his thing, and p....well you'll see.
in this clip: p, michael, and james brown, show off their dancing skills......you determine the winner.
rip. mj
Upcoming post for Aug. 31-Sept. 5
Here are the long awaited article titles for the upcoming week... Hope you enjoy! Thanks for your continued support, it is greatly appreciated.
Monday- "nuggets from the george" by Bob George
Tuesday- "I Was Raised in the Pro-jects Roaches and Rats" by Dead Mike
Wednesday-"Random" by Jonny Casanova
Thursday- "Please Don't Piss Off the Piper by the Pied Piper
Friday- "Top FIVE Black Super Heroes" by The Cuban
Saturday, August 29, 2009
In Somber Remembrance
On another somber yet lighter note.... The King of Pop's birthday is today so I thought it would be nice to remember one of his most famous contributions to the world of entertainment.
Friday, August 28, 2009
The Ingolorious Interracial Relationships
For those of you that were excited about the top five black superheroes (and I know it was all of you) I hate to disappoint, but that is going to be a topic of another blog. Fortunately, bored one night and a bit of an insomniac, I went and saw a late showing of Inglorious Basterds. For those of you living on Mars in a cave somewhere, Inglorious is the next movie by Quentin Tarantino, starring Brad Pitt and the guy from the office, and some other Jewish and Germany looking people. If you haven’t seen it, you should. It is a kick-ass movie that will leave on the edge of your seat, begging for more. But I am not writing this to blow air under Tarantino’s ass (though it should, he did a fantastic job), I am writing because of action that occurs within the movie that is prevalent, and important to Black People. Spoiler (I put that there so not to ruin the movie for anyone, but I usually ignore it in my experience): there is an interracial relationship in the film.
Shock
Gasp
No way.
And what’s more, the brotha is dark. Like African Dark
Holy Shit
And the women is blond
….
Hell just froze over.
I remember sitting through the movie, seeing the subtle hints of love and flirtation between the two characters. I watched the wonderfully underplayed glances, soft caresses, and could not stop hoping that what I was seeing was true. I was praying that these two were in love, because it was the first truly genuine cross race relationship that I have seen out of Hollywood in a long time. When they finally kissed near the climax of the movie, I braced myself for the invariable gasp, and tension in the audience. It passed, and nothing happen. There was no up roar, no anger, and no tension. People in the audience let it pass as if it were Brad Pitt kissing a white actress.
I felt like throwing my hands up in triumph, and prancing through the halls. I did no such thing, but I did shake my fist in a small victory.
Hollywood has a habit of being very backwards when it comes toward socially relevant issues. As liberal as Hollywood claims to be, when it comes to the pulse of America it remains a little ignorant. This is somewhat an act of self-preservation. Hollywood needs to market itself to the masses, so it is hesitant to offend too many people at once, especially when it comes to huge summer blockbusters. For example, homosexuals are still portrayed in Hollywood in a comic light. Very rarely are homosexual relationships portrayed in a loving and positive manner. Which compared to theater, Hollywood is deep in the dark ages. This is mainly because homosexual relationships, specifically men, are still viewed by many in America as evil occurrences. America culture still has some vestiges of homophobia, which is prevalent. As not to turn people away at the sight of two men kissing, Hollywood leaves it out, or manipulates the situation into comedy so that everyone can laugh at gay relationships instead of sympathizing with them.
The move is also placed on the background of Hollywood consistent demonic portrayal of black people up until very recently. We were ether evil or stupid. The famous phrase of ‘cooning” is something black people can all recognize, and was a pinnacle of how we were characterizing through much of early Hollywood history.
And the fact the brotha was dark, was even more of a victory. Hollywood has an affinity for light skinned black people. We all see them, the curly afro brothas in the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog, the long hair light skin sistas like Haley Barry, etc. Though there is nothing wrong with being light skinned (I am as light as light can be and so is my family), dark skinned brothas and sistas are left by the wayside, specifically when it comes to romantic portrayals.
(Have to throw in a picture of Halle Berry once in a while.)
I don’t think Tarantino’s film is going to break new cultural barriers or change people’s minds. I think Inglorious is a testament to how much American values have changed. The fact that a black man and white women can kiss on screen and not receive a cultural uproar showcases how far we’ve come. We have a long way to go, but let’s sit for a while and contemplate the change that has occurred.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Shit Talkin' 101: An Important Aspect of Life (Video)
This week things are a little different because we gotta video blog! YYEAHH BOI! This is due to the fact that my job is boring as HELL! Ya boy is working Security at a local community college, hence the me lookin up ever 2 secs in the video.
So for your viewing pleasure, I made a video via my cell phone for ya'll to enjoy, and this is a serious topic to me cuz I love talkin' shit!!! Well without further ado, SHIT TALKIN' 101!
Shared via AddThis
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
"Yeah....but I was drunk when I said that"
Drunk men tell no lies? Are you kidding? Anyone whos told you that either has made a bunch of drunken mistakes and blames themselves or has heard one too many compliments from a drunken person. Drunk men tell many lies…Why? Cuz his ass was drunk what do expect? Don’t get me wrong though drunk men tell the truth too though but these truths have a category. They are called situational truths. For example If I’m twisted in a poorly lit, smoky bar scene and I say to a girl that shes looking good and I wanna get to know her better, I might actually really think that way given the circumstance. This is called a situational truth. In a sober state in a well lit lounge and clear atmosphere I may have actually been looking at OJ Simpson in a halter top. When a guy is faded needless to say he is more inclined to say some off the wall shit.
Here is probably the most common, debated, and ironically enough, most acceptable times to use the aforementioned title phrase. When you hook up with someone drunk:
A lot of girls try to call you out on this but you gotta stand your ground. They’ll say things like “You knew what you was doing!!” and “Don’t try to use that as an excuse!!” Stick to your guns fellas don’t waver you have a perfectly legitimate excuse. Lets face it you win some and you lose some with this one, you may wake up happy and accomplished or you might just wanna ram your head through the window cuz you just realized you hooked up with the last living cave woman on record. If you made the latter mistake, blame it on the alcohol and keep it moving. Its your last defense. You cant have people thinking that you knowingly hook up with chicks that resemble ALF.
Lemme run down another typical post drunken mistake situation compiled from personal experience and stories from friends of mine.
If you wake up at 1pm on a Saturday with no recollection of the previous night. You got a headache and you feel like your feet have been replaced with cinderblocks. You pour you a cup of water and a bowl of cereal, take one bite and that shit taste like dried ramen noodles. You got 3 missed calls and 5 texts that you aint looked at yet. 2 from your boys that say some form of “Nigga you was WYLIN…LOL” 2 with some variation of “ I know YOU had fun last night” and one that says “Im glad we FINALLY got that over with” from the proverbial code name “DO NOT ANSWER” in the call log, you need to be ready to use the title phrase to damn near everyone you see after that. How can someone honestly hold you accountable for a night like that???
Watch this clip from Chappelles Show Season 2 The Dudes Night Out clip for an example of how alcohol affects dudes.
Chappelle's Show | ||||
Dude's Night Out!!!! | ||||
http://www.comedycentral.com/ | ||||
|
Now if you find the previous “hypothetical story” part of your weekly Saturday/Sunday routine, a couple of AA meetings should clear that up. But on those rare occasions pull out the last defense and say proudly “Yeah….but I was drunk though”
You know you're a hoe if...
Some serious, some hilarious but all true.
If you find yourself in 3 or more of these categories... You may need to take a look inside...
You slept with me the first night you met me...
You answer my post 2am texts...
You can't hold your “Drunk” ass up...so you decide to lean on mine...
You're a chapter favorite...
You pay for my gas and food in exchange for company....(think about it)
Your walk to class is a statistical analysis...
You slept with me the first night you met me...
Movies aren't for watching...
You get upset when he doesn't call after a drunken night and then realize “story of my life”...
You're in denial of your hoe-dom...
Your girls have to run hook up patrol on you...
Your vagina is just disappointed in you...
You cried over Juicy Campus...
Your shirt got more fabric than your pants...
You friended me on facebook and didn't know me from shit...
Your number exceeds the jersey number of the last athlete you slept with +10...
You have kids to collect child support...
You feel the need to argue the double standard of men to women EVERYTIME it comes up...
Your gyno refers to you as their best customer...
You slept with me the first night you met me...
Your facebook status tells on you constantly...
Kristen S...
You're a sophomore making freshman mistakes...
“Don't worry, thats regular, just keep going”...
You self admit to being a hoe...
Stories of your sexual practices migrate across great distances and stand the test of time...
Your insecurities make sex the only answer...
We caught you in the freshman football locker room giving head to two of out team mates...
The gum is still there...
There is no such thing as the friend zone...
All your friends can do is shrug when asked about you...
Your vagina has no scruples...
You've slept with your friends boyfriend or romantic interest...
You slept with your friends boyfriend or romantic interest after he came after you...
You've messed with an unfathomable number of men...
You slept with me the first night I met you...
But hoes need love to, thats why this post is dedicated to all of you all, no matter what your number, be it big or small. Heres to you, the common hoe. CHEERS!
Much Love to you and yours
@Dead Mike
Sunday, August 23, 2009
pass the popcorn
the 90's were a glorious time. the nba was at an all-time high for global appeal, hip-hop was reaching a high mark creatively, more black sitcoms were being made, and def comedy jam birthed some of our favorite stars we enjoy today. however, not all was pleasant during this time. with any era, you will have the good, the bad, and the corny.
today i present to you: the 3 corniest niggas of the 90's (r&b edition)....and a bonus.
3. tevin jermod campbell
2. mark althavean andrews aka. sisqo
in the 80's, he was a musical genius. from dirty mind to the batman soundtrack, he had hits. parade is my favorite p album ever. however, in the 90's he lost the hits, and lost his damn mind. aside from diamonds & pearls, sexy mf, and most beautiful girl, he was puttin out garbage. and this is coming from a p fan....thus the name bob george. running around with "slave" on his face, growing that pedophile beard, changing his name to a symbol...this was clearly a nigga going through some changes. p was having a mid-life crisis. i love p; however, during the 90's, he was effin nuts. did anyone other than me hear the carmen electra album?
they showed re-runs and new episodes on saturday morning @ 11am. whatever problem i had in my life, i forgot about while watching him. if i was hungry, sick, or hurt...didn't matter. he was the man.
bob ross…my nigga © denzel.
Upcoming posts for Aug 24-28
Monday- "Pass the Popcorn"
by Bob George
Tuesday- "You Know Your a Hoe if..."
by Dead Mike
Wednesday-"Yeah...but I was drunk when I said that"
by Jonny Casanova
Thursday- "Shit Talkin' 101: An Important Aspect of Life. (Video Blog)"
by The Pied Piper
Friday- "Top FIVE Black Super Heroes"
by The Cuban
Saturday, August 22, 2009
A Little Bit of Art for your Saturday
Friday, August 21, 2009
INTERRACIAL DATING!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!
I would categorize myself as a waning militant. There was a time when a black fist was seen on everyone of my t-shirts, my favorite colors were black,
….
and more black. (I wasn’t the most original teenager)
And my walls were peppered with socialist (before I even knew what the word meant) leaders and black revolutionaries. Though I am still inspired by Malcolm X, Che is still see randomly in my screensaver, and I walk out of movies that offend me (case in point Transformers 2, which I regretted shortly afterward being it was an uncharacteristically cold night and I missed one of the best battles in movie history), I find myself waning on my Black Nationalist views that I held so long. And in some cases just being plain embarrassed by them.
For example, interracial dating.
I have never been against it, but I can still remember the days when I saw a black man with a white woman, and judged immediately about why the two of them were together. I did not hate, but I could not think of it being anything but a momentary fling, a sexual fetish that the two of them shared. I could not see beyond my own prejudice viewpoints.
It was true, it was prejudice. Which is why I am embarrassed now.
However, without noticing some of my best friends began to date interracially. Still my prejudice did not wane. In fact, even though my best friend who is black was in a long standing relationship with a woman from Pakistan, my mind did not click that they were an interracial couple. It was something about Black and White that seemed unable to mesh for me, even as my friends would date Asian, Latinas, Arabs, Persians, and even European women.
I remember what people used to tell me as a child about people who are dated outside their race.
They’ve either
1) Sold Out
2) Hate their race, and consequently themselves
3) Have issues with their mama or daddy
4) Can’t “Handle” a sista or brotha, or are generally weak people
5) Are Immoral people
And I succumbed to these beliefs as well, even used them as jokes, especially with sistas, toward my peers who dated white women.
I am under the belief that fear of interracial dating is embedded within the very fabric of Black culture. We immediately demonize anyone who participates in it, because at one point it truly was a very dangerous aspect of our lives. Interracial dating didn’t become “legal” until 1967. That is less then forty years ago. Up until that time people have been arrested, jailed, murdered, beaten, and tortured because of loving another race. Everyone knows the horror stories of black men who “winked” at white women and received a brutal lynching as a reward. Interracial relationships were seen as nothing more than rape in the eyes of the law. And still biracial children are considered the bastards of either race, a scorn that is swept under the rug and forgotten (a topic for another blog).
So we have crafted an undeniable fear in ourselves for pursuing another race. Not to mention, especially for sistas, we are constantly told by those around use (whether media or our peers) that we are not good enough, pretty enough, western enough, skinny enough, black enough, or human enough. And to think a black person is attractive is still perceived as a fetish that is often exploited by pop culture.
But these traditions need to change.
The friends I have who dated interracially are not the self-loathing, race hating people that people make them out to be. Many of them are just as politically and socially active as I am, and can quote the teachings of Martin Luther King and Marcus Garvey better than I can. The white girls who I know with black boy friends are not struck with bouts of jungle fever, but love their boyfriends and are as loyal to them as any sista would be. And the interracial couples I know are some of the strongest and loving relationships that I have seen in my short life.
I to have dated interracially, and I dare anyone to call me confused about who I am, or if I do not have an intense pride for me race.
Humans are meant to merge cultures. It is an undeniable fact. Look at music. Music only grows and expands when it merges with other forums of music. Beatles would not have been the Beatles without their love and cover of old blues licks. Jazz would be no where without George Gershwin orchestrating it. And Jonny Cash used to sing Gospel songs before he went to country.
If that is true for music, fine art, poetry, architecture, etc. then why not should we also merge as peoples?
If that argument doesn’t work then what about personal preference. You know how you just like black people; perhaps they happened to like all people. Or white people. Or Asian people. Or Indian people. So ask yourself, like I did. Why do you hate? Could it possibly be your own insecurities?
Maybe I am just not a believer in the myth of the “black family” anymore. Maybe because I find myself increasingly dating biracial women who have experience hatred because of their mix ancestry. Maybe because the people against interracial dating seem irrational and damn near racist. Or maybe because I don’t give a shit. Anyway I support interracial dating, and purpose a radical idea: let’s just call it dating. Might solve a few things.
Plus look how happy these models are. Clearly it’s because of interracial dating, and not because they’re getting paid.
I got the inspiration for this blog from the wonderful blog of Danielle Belton called Black Snob. Check it out click here.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
"Spittin' Game" Does NOT Exist
Game spittin’ is defined in the great book of correctness as, “the manipulation of a female to attain the state of sexual explosion nirvana.” (skeet.splash.) Agree or disagree that’s the goal, peace pipe or to hell, you choose.
***Let me clarify for the readers, there is a difference between HOES and WOMEN, so if you see the word hoe and you get offended, do some soul searchin’. Real dudes want that down ass chick, a real woman.***
If you don’t want that down ass chick you can aim low, so low that you can get no lower and hit the ground, but remember where animals shit, on the ground. Dig through animal shit if you want to, but not I says the P!per.
Now I’m not talking about holla’in at Ms. Debbie Downer Hoe, who’s mad depressed cuz she a hoe and you fool her ass into believing you’re gonna take her to the land of milk and honey. In the morning, she realizes you lied and she is back in the same situation, that’s jacked fellas. Or Twisted Tisha Hoe who was twisted waaaay before you got to the bar and bought her 5 Amaretto Sours and “convinced” her to come back to the crib, that’s rape fellas. Or even Worth-It Whitney Hoe who is fine as hell. But to win her you have to be buying the most drinks or flashing watches or be the highest bidder because in so many words, that’s prostitution fellas. SEE VIDEO (notice drunk chick on couch and the lack for need of game…)
So get that girl for the night if all you want to do is smash, but she’s a part of the game and so are you. You’re a part cuz of your intentions and she cuz she’s a hoe. Let’s not go around swindling people.
A woman will size you up before you even get up to her. Why? Cuz a lot of them are shallow. Just like we look at every booty that walk by like we in middle school, ladies decide who they “like” and “don’t like” like grade school, aint nothing changed.
IF there is a such thing as “spittin’ game”, then it lies only in not cock blocking yourself when she allows you pass that initial threshold. I call it the HOLLA (He Ok, Let’s Listen Awhile) threshold. Then all you gotta do is not tell the chick you kill puppies or masturbate to Sesame Street or some shit. And even if you DO mess up you can STILL smash, but it all depends on what she wants, its the power of the poon. Poon’s on a pedestal. (40 Year-Old Virgin ©) “Game spittin’” my ass. She’ll get to know you and your personality through prolonged conversation and interactions. She won’t get to know you as you “spit game” at an attempt to beat it up, cuz “game”, as you call it, is mostly lies.
“Game” doesn’t exist because you can’t change a girl’s mind. They stubborn as shit. If she’s DTF then she’s DTF, if not holla at Bob George he’ll put you on some porn so he can laugh and you can hand-crush til your heart is content. This is real-life, ain’t no Hitch® nonsense, in real-life that dude woulda been sharing a cell with OJ, stalkin’ ass negro. (Inspired by true events my ass) Point being, you can only do what she wanna do, nothing more cuz then you’ll be singing like Akon.
And I know it sucks cuz girls be on that other ish. So ladies, stop baiting dudes all the time and making them work so hard trying to win you over by “spitting game”, especially if they just wanna get to know you. There is no such thing as “game spittin’” only what ladies have tricked us to believe is necessary to get the poon. And we do it. Why? TO GET THE POON. Hell, that’s the reason dudes only want booty cuz after all that work of “spitting that game” that doesn’t exist, he wants some dividends. And always letting your stank girlfriend in the back pipe in, tell that chick to pull a George Bush and stop giving a f*¢k.
Game DOES NOT exist. All you gotta do is not mess up. Sometimes its best to just shut up, and if the best “game” is to not spit “game” then is “game” existent? Chalk that up to the game.
P!ed P!per®
I Believe in "The Force"
Lets be real with ourselves. If you are a dating a person and he/she (usually “she” of course) says that they think you all should wait before any intimacy occurs they are probably either holding out to see how much you care about them minus sex and/or they are going by the notion that when this intimacy occurs than it will make it all the more better for both of you. Well you know what? MAYBE (the all caps is meant to represent a big "maybe")your right but I wouldn’t risk it. Why? Because I believe in “The Force”. Now I know that sounds crazy but before you scroll down and read Dead Mikes article instead, hear me out, (then read his after). The Force by definition (for all you non Star Wars nerds like me) is an energy that exists among everyone and surrounds and penetrates all people…and by that definition, I believe in it. Granted, they also used that shit to move things with their minds but I’m not talking about that. I’m saying there are energies that exist among people that you can only get a glimpse into when you get them in an intimate setting and if you wait 1 to 2 months before doing the deed, (however you personally define that) it’d be a damn shame if you didn’t like what you saw.
In order to make this a little easier to understand we can talk about it in terms of “Force Levels” Lemme break it down briefly. Lets say you the highest amount of “Force Points” you can have is 10. Your FPL (Force Point Level) is based on 4 different criteria, experience, personality, confidence, and openness. We’ll say that confidence and personality hold the most weight and that constitutes your Force Point Level high or low. Having a high level or low level isn’t good or bad its just what you have based on the criteria. Example: If my FPL is a 7.7 and yours is a 3.1 then were probably not going to be able to vibe intimately. And there is nothing worse than when you are so attracted to someone and really think they are someone that you can see yourself with and you find out that you cant vibe intimately whatsoever.
*side note*
There are definite variables in this, and its not to say that bringing someone up to your level can't be fun, but I’d rather buy a fully furnished home, not a fixer upper.
If your wondering how many points you have or want a flow chart and diagram explaining the system further, keep holding your breath. The “Force Point System” is merely an analogy to explain the overall point.
*The Point*
I believe fully that you can find out about a person real quick when they have allowed themselves to open up to you intimately. And if you’re like me, this might be something that you would want to know BEFORE you get into a relationship with that person.
Marinate on that and “May The Force Be With You”
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Basketball Syndrome
Konichiwa and welcome back to the Dead Mike show. This is a small thought. I'm gonna touch on something that I have a lot of personal experience with. I like to call this school of thought “Basketball Syndrome.” To give a little perspective on the term:
Basketball Syndrome is the perception that because a black man is tall or athletic looking or both that he plays one of the major sports, basketball, football sometimes baseball. This perception is most of the time outwardly expressed verbally or through actions. Often times, I've found that those doing the labeling are caucasian. I'm going to issue a few cases in point:
A kid I met in my freshman year of college trying to pick me up for his intramural football team using the statement “Yeah man, we could use a tall black dude to catch passes in the back of the endzone.” (This kid is a good friend of mine now, even though I did
not play for his team)The countless times that I was giving a campus tour and fathers asked me “So what sport did you get a scholarship for?”
Don't prosecute me for this one: The avid attention that I receive from Caucasian females. Not that I mind the attention, as any normal dude would want attention from females, but for that reason initially and not other reasons like me being a cool guy. And For that reason it is expected that I look like the picture giving a degrading picture of miscegenation to the left right
Watching me play basketball against less than midcore players and assuming that I'm some sort of a god due to their short comings when I'd look like them if I was on their end.
Now one may say that these are all circumstantial and subjective, but I have seen this first hand with more than just myself.
I've been dealing with Basketball Syndrome since middle school as I was 6'2 by 7th grade and I want to put it out there to every one, especially the old white dudes at my gym that because I'm tall, black and athletic, does not mean I played D1 sports/ got a scholarship etc. Granted once you get to know me you'll find out that I love sports and have played both football and basketball, but it should not be the first assumption made. So in essence;
This; that I dawned with pride. Has turned into this.
I'm tired of people thinking that I am a college ball player and not a college power player with enough clout in school to to create lasting legacies that are neither on the court or field. To be honest it objectifies black males and continues to leave them in he light that is less than flattering. Not that black men help themselves THAT often, especially when there are black college athletes giving the rest of us a bad name and for clarification that is not all of them, and that is another article for another time but none the less true.
I've seen this problem plague my brother, some of my best friends and brothers who are finding their success of the off the courts and fields in a ton of different places such as different universities, the gym, at work and in schools.We have to do better for ourselves, but they have to stop thinking about rappers and athletes when they see us.
So to be real... I graduated college with a B average so you could say I went I w 17 for 20... Had decent GPA's in my major, minor and liberal arts curriculum so you can say I had a tripple double... Chaired a major university committee, so you may as well put one of those C's on my cap and gown but not for captain and I was nice in our school's intramural leagues. Again, I love sports... football being the greatest sport invented... but guess what there's a better invention, it's called a successful happy life and a lot of us are doing that out of the sports arena.
Just a small thought...
Much Love to you and yours,
@ Dead Mike
Monday, August 17, 2009
chicken 'n jizzm
i love chicken. i enjoy watching porn. these are two of the many things that bring happiness to my life, in their own little way.
chicken:
i recently had an encounter where i met someone who didn't like chicken. he not only did not like the taste, but he had not eaten chicken in 16 years....i hate to bring race into it, but yes he was black. as i listened to this black man wax poetically about how he cannot stand this marvelous bird, i thought to myself: "you poor soul." he then proceeded to educate me on how fried chicken was food given to us by slave masters and how if i ate fried chicken, i am still enslaving myself by eating something that is beneath me.....at this point, im having a chappelle moment and just started thinking of random things because listening to this fool gave me a headache and made me long for the bird...
but then i realized something, people all over the world are full of shit. there are vegetarians who will not eat chicken, but smoke cigarettes; porn stars who will have sex with 4 guys at once, but will not kiss a guy on the mouth, because that's special and should be saved for marriage. this “brother man” cheats on his wife, but doesn't eat chicken because its beneath him. i told "brother man" if you get hungry enough, you'll eat the bird and thank the slaves who had the ingenuity and forthrightness to see the future.....Kentucky Fried Chicken.
i'm at the library on west blvd. doing a book report on bill clinton. i'm new to the internet. in my mind everything ends in ".com" i go to "whitehouse.com"...little did i know my world would never be the same. with my teacher by my side, we see 6 naked white women bending over an american flag, and the bottom of the screen said "cum in"....the shit blew my mind, i'll never forget this. i didn't know much about sex, let alone porn. pandora's box was open. i was now intrigued.
you have to understand something. to look at porn when the internet first came out was extremely scandalous. this was during the days of dial-up. meaning no one could call your house because you were too busy jacking off, watching porno. it made you look like a degenerate.
so i guess you could say, as the internet developed....so did my appreciation for porn. during the dial-up days, i had to resort to watching the soft porn on hbo (real sex 74!..or something like that); dsl days, i became more intrigued. and THEN, wireless.....man oh man. by this point, i didn't want to watch it anymore. i started to figure, how many times can you watch someone have sex. but, the temptation was still there. it was like giving a fat kid free big mac's, there's gonna be trouble....
but something miraculous happened. i started watching porn differently: noticing the corny dialogue, the unattractive women, and the hilarity of porn....i remember watching this black dude with Kapri Styles. she gave him head from behind. all i could remember thinking while watching was: "WOW, that dude is really vulnerable right now....he could never run for office." porn became this big inside joke that i had. i would search different categories just to see new funny stuff: bowling alley bitches, quiky mart hos, british porn, and possibly my favorite, and most hilarious thing i saw was revenge porn. if you've ever seen cheaters, revenge porn is cheaters on steroids.
when i first started having sex, i couldn't let porn down. i had to relive some of those moments. however, in 2009, i am currently on porn hiatus. simply because i don't want to learn anything new. i'll watch it with my girl, but it doesn't have the comedy factor for me like it did in 2006. but me and porn will always be cool. when i need a quick laugh, i'll watch 2004 pornos.
goodday © fez
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Upcoming Posts 8/17 - 8/21
Monday- "Chicken and Jizzism"
by Bob George
Tuesday- "Basketball Syndrome"
by Dead Mike
Wednesday-"I Believe in 'The Force' "
by Johnny Casanova
Thursday- "Game Spittin': Fact of Fiction?"
by The Pied Piper
Friday- RANDOM
by The Cuban
There it is people...Oh and if you havent already. Join our fan site of Facebook at the bottom left of the page and give us suggestions on posts. Also you can also follow us on Twitter at www.twitter.com/5ivebruhs. Thanks again for the support!!!
Friday, August 14, 2009
Black People….It’s okay to branch out when it comes to music
I went to a fairly diverse high school. In fact, our principal, often boasted that our high school was a microcosm of the United States. However, despite the diversity, we still manage to segregate ourselves in to various factions biased on thought, religion, race, and social status. It seemed the main factor for these divisions at the time was musical taste. It defined who you were, and connected you to the members of your various social groups. For example the Emo kids listened to Evanescence and Jap pop, Theater nerds exclusively show tunes (or the occasional rock opera), etc.
Now being a black kid it was expected that I listened to one thing: Hip Hop. So when I reached high school I was immediately placed into a gallant of social stigmas biased on my knowledge of hip hop. Unfortunately for me, hip hop was banned from my home until high school. The first album I even thought of owning was Stankonia by Outkast, and was so shocked by the profanity that I immediately apologized to my mom for purchasing it. I myself was a little budding nerd, who dug Red Hot Chili Peppers, Korn, Linkin Park, and the music of Final Fantasy. As an effect I was hit with a landslide of judgment, and public scoffing.
So what did I do? I faked it. I didn’t particularly like hip hop (with the exception of Outkast, Public enemy, and Eminem) so I forced myself. I believed that to be truly “black” I had to not only love this music, but embody it. Consequently when I entered college I was a hip hop head, to the point where it was in the very swagger of my being.
>But this became an issue. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t gangsta, quite the contrary. I wasn’t a playa. I was just a nerd, who was trying way too hard. As an effect I stuck out, having thrown on this mantle, and trying to fit into my own stereotype of what I thought hip hop was.
In college I found myself hanging in groups of radically different people, unlike in high school, and consequently listening to their various forms of music. It became insane the amount of music that I was exposed to. I listened to everything from show tunes, to classic rock, to blues, to jazz, to salsa, to even country. As an effect I began to form my own taste in music, that is truly and uniquely me.
I thought this would put me at odds with the hip hop world, whose forced exposure helped me form a resounding passion for it, and throughout college it did. What I listened to was not played by my black friends, and my other friends were perplexed and often openly laughed at hip hop. Once again I was at odds with myself.
Then I went to the Roots picnic.
>It helped me rest a little easier in my skin. I realized that my musical taste could not, nor should it, be dependant on the social groups that we claim.
To my beautiful people who find themselves too often listening to just hip hop or R&B: Music is a part of your identity and a foundation of what you use to express yourself. So let it. Develop a deeper love for all things with a melody, and help it inform you as a person. Allow it to enrich yourself, and perhaps we all will be a little better for it.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Ok girl..."I Love You"..... Did that work?
· “Oh I wasn’t trying to do anything like THAT. But give me a call next time you go out and we’ll try to hang out” (Translated: “Yeah you caught me THIS time, hopefully next time we’ll be a lil mo drunk so I can HOLLA!”)
· “Oh I don’t care if you gotta man, I was just hoping we can be friends because you seemed like a genuine person.” (Translated: “Your boyfriend ain’t got nothing on me and you was looking good as hell so I’m tryna STILL HOLLA!”)
· “Well I got some movies at my crib if you wanna just chill there, I’m tired from this party anyway. We can JUST chill.” (Translated: “HOLLA AT CHA BOY!!!!”)
· Notice at all most dudes wanna do is “holla”. But we’ll address that later… Also notice how these phrases would follow situations in which you (the lady) would lead a dude to believe that there was a possibility for more. If I don’t smell dinner cooking, how the hell I’m gonna go downstairs expecting fried chicken? (Ponder ladies) We know what that homemade chicken smell like! If you hear my stomach growling feed me baby!
And the ladies are NO exception to this type of “I’m gonna fool that ass” lingo. All the fellas will know what she means when she says the following:
· “Not tonight I’m tired” (Translated: Hell NAW!)
· “Well tonight was fun, I guess I’ll see you later” (Translated: Hell NAW!)
· “I’ll have to check my schedule and get back to you” (Translated: Hell NAW!)
· Notice at how all they want to do is tell you no, because if the answer is yes, she would just say yes. It’s simple. But we do appreciate you not sayin’ “Hell NAW” because a dude can flip and shake the shit out you! Oh real quick…
**Tangent: I do not condone hands on ladies, unless she hit in your face more than twice. Momma said, the first hit you let that slide because women can be emotional sometimes and they don’t know what they’re doing. Twice they are testing you and at this point they are just being damn foolish! And we don’t deal in foolishness do we son? Third time… YOU KNOCK THAT ASS OUT, because she is beyond wyl’n and in my FACE? Disrespect is disrespect no matter the sex, but fellas ya best bet is to walk away after the first hit, but if she chase you… Well let’s just say if she bad enough to initiate the sale, give that chick the business…**
Ok, now to address the notion of a young man hollering or courting a girl. (This is the real purpose of this article.) First of all ladies, WE DON’T ALWAYS want to have SEX! DING DING DING, Yes, that is correct!...
“Tell him what he’s won!”
“Well Bob, he’s won absolutely nothing because she don’t care and she just KNOOOOWS that nig just wants some booty!”
“Damn.”
Get off it ladies.
Sometimes we just want to chill as well. Like believe it or not, we might want to get to know you. Like the only place you might be able to get at a girl without her thinking you trying to get in her pants is at church, and hell that still isn’t necessarily true. A dude will say what he has to, to get what he wants, just like YOU too LADIES, but ya’ll are just too damn slick. Ladies just need to turn on YOUR BS meter, not your friend’s or your sister’s or your psychic’s or your best friend’s cousin who’s got 5 kids and no baby daddy, but YOUR BS meter and make sure it’s in full swing. If not, you make good dudes want to leave you where you stand, because you’re only thinking he wants that good-good (Cold Blooded! –Dave Chappelle) And your friends MIGHT be hatin’. Ponder that.
And lastly, let’s address the article title and dialogue about the words “I love you,” I know most dudes probably don’t even want to read those words out loud. And we know how ladies like to hear a dude say them and mark that as the ultimate commitment from a dude, but let’s think about this from his angle. He could just say it just to appease you, tap that a couple of times, and bounce just to break your heart. So then you can be on your SINGLE friend’s shoulder crying, and she telling you he was just a DOG because all men are DOGS. Thus fellas, all we have done is made another woman like that friend of hers that just won’t give any of us a chance, so let’s not do that ok? He could also just not say those words. Why? BECAUSE HE DOESN’T MEAN IT! For ladies its maybe be a little easier because you openly express love on a day to day, you love your girlfriends because they love you, you love your hairdresser because she makes you look good, you love Versace because only dudes with money can buy it for you, etc. For men, we love our family like no other. Point blank, a real man holds it down for his family (and his friends can become apart of this family) no matter what, and for him to say “I love you”, constitutes you being his family on a whole other level. A level beyond his boys because you and him are able to “unite” as one. I’ve said it twice to females that I was involved with and it’s a liberating feeling but at the same time it’s scary because you just don’t know the repercussions of your actions just yet. You expect the worse but hope for the best and are enlightened by the result. I would think a lady would prefer that dude that holds out til he absolutely means it, but you gotta be willing to let TIME do its thing, because there is no substitute for time. So basically ladies, give that good dude a CHANCE, just a chance, to mean what he says, because a man without his word is… nothing.
To the chicks who hate all men and the men who make them hate us look at it like this, love is the barren wasteland at the top of a cliff. You’ll climb til you’ve bypassed the caves of diamonds and the prettiest of flowers on the way to see what’s at the top. You’ll climb beyond the exotic wildlife and almost die on the sharp outcroppings in search of the beautiful forest that you just KNOW is at the peak… and then… the top is just an empty, barren, cold wasteland. It’s the empty barren cold wasteland at the top because it can leave you feeling both empty and cold if it doesn’t work out how you planned. But if you climbed that cliff at the right TIME and you’ve followed all of the guidelines that allow you to get there safely and followed your gut and gave CHANCES, you will see the daybreak. You will see that beautiful sunrise from a perspective you’ve NEVER experienced because you are on that cliff and you gain that feeling of awe and excitement and understanding of the beauty of what God has created. That time energy and effort is then realized in true happiness.
Pied Piper, toot.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Why Do You Care?!?!
Meet Jarrod a young man in his early 20s, recent graduate , has a good job, he is nice, smart and was raised well. This guy is going places and he has a great girlfriend whom he cares for a lot. They are fairly serious having been together for 9 months of relationship bliss. That great girlfriends name is Jessica. She is one of those girls who didn’t know they were fine until just recently. Hasn’t had many boyfriends, you know the type, the girls who are still genuinely sweet and haven’t been tarnished by the pain of heartbreak from the ex-scum bag that all girls carry around like a huge purse full of excuses for why all guys suck. Instead of the past scum bag, she carries around an insecurity from only recently being as fine as she is and never fully getting used to so much attention. This brings up the final piece of the puzzle. Jessica has this friend, we’ll call this girl Lucretia. Lucretia is fine, and smart, used to attention from guys, and probably would be in a relationship if it wasn’t for her stank ass attitude, judgmental nature, and smug sense of entitlement that she carries. Not to mention the ever present past scum bag that most girls keep on-hand. Needless to say, Jarrod and Lucretia don’t get along because Jarrod “is a guy and guys aren’t to be trusted” she says.
Ok now that the stage is set we can get into the storyline. Read on as a typical situation unfolds before your very eyes.
So Jarrod had a hard day at work, in fact hard is an understatement. He got swamped so much so that he had to bring some of his work home this time. He is exhausted and just wants to chill and have some time to himself. Jessica calls Jarrod later on that day and Jarrod reluctantly picks up after opening eyes and lifting his head off his desk and says.
“Let me talk to you a lil bit later I had a hard day and I just wanna chill. Still haven’t finished my worked and I have to put it on my bosses desk the day after tomorrow.”
Jessica, being the understanding girl friend that she is, hangs up the phone and although she wanted to talk she knows it wasn’t THAT important so she lets it go. She calls Lucretia to tell her whatever dumb unimportant thing she was gonna tell Jarrod and in the conversation she lets slip that Jarrod couldn’t talk cuz he was busy. Lucretia, who can only give advice based on her numerous, yet failed attempts at keeping a man explains to Jessica that Jarrod is breaking routine and that she should be suspicious. In fact she shouldn’t call him she should wait on him to make the move. Why does she care? The next day Jessica and Lucretia go to the mall and Jessica’s phone rings. She shuffles to grab her phone thinking it was Jarrod but it wasn’t. She’s upset for the rest of the time at the mall and goes home early wondering why Jarrod still hasn’t called. Lucretia, pissed off that her shopping buddy has gone home, calls Jarrod asking him why he hasn’t called yet and why he’s trippin why he insists on making her friend upset. Jarrod is first off confused and still trying to get his work done and secondly wondering “Why do you care?” Pissed off and taken off focus he calls Jessica and explains what was happening that nothing was going on and that it wasn’t her it was his work and that was bothering him. He asks her if she wants to catch a movie later on that night and grab ice cream after. She excitedly accepts his offer.
Its 10 o’clock and the couple are out of the movie headed to Coldstone. Meanwhile Lucretia is sitting on her couch alone watching Fresh Prince reruns and still wondering what happened with Jessica so she calls to see if she “caught that trifling ass nigga Jarrod?” Why does she care? *side note* (Lucretia will receive a call at about 3 am that night from an ex scum bag. At approx. 3:25 she’ll have her legs in the air on his moms futon…think about it) Jessica takes a swallow of her butter pecan ice cream smiles and says “don’t worry everything’s fine.” Jarrod hears her and asks “ is that Lucretia? Tell that b*tch to stay the f*ck up out our business! What we do has nothing to do with her!!! Why does she care anyway!?!?”
Granted, Jarrod should have watched his language at Coldstone. There are kids in there on Fridays, but Jarrod has a right to be pissed. Why DOES she care? Why do girls always have one trifling ass friend who is determined to systematically cause tension in a relationship with constant spoon feedings of bullshit, non-pertinent stories of ex scumbags until the couple is as miserable as she is.
To the girls who love to give advice based on some negative experience that they’ve gone through, STOP and think about why your single. Is it really by choice, or are you just trying to tell yourself that? Better yet, ask yourself, “Why do I care?”
Monday, August 10, 2009
No longer 1999: Some one please let the south know!
I'm doing this as a service to the good people of the South. Note...this isnt all of yall just a good majority. To you whom I speak of I feel the need to let you know something. IT IS 2009. Not 1999 any more... PULL YOUR PANTS UP! PUT YOUR WHITE TEES AWAY AND PLACE YOUR SHIRTS IN THE DRYER AND SET THEM TO SHRINK.
Ever since I moved to the south, I've come to the realization that the south is perpetually behind the rest of the world when it comes to fashion. From some of the artists like Algernod Washington other wise known as 'Plies' to the
every day nigg, pants seem to be sagging and tee's and polos seem to be longer than ever and the ridiculousness of the copy cat style of good labels like Gucci and Prada is becoming more annoying. Well I am hear to tell you that that era of style is LONG GONE. If you are an avid consumer of fashion like I am, you know that today's look is a more European style that involves form fitting clothes, uniqueness and swag. Lets take a look at some examples...
Here we have “my boy”, OJ Da Juiceman. Side note: OJ Da Juiceman??? huh....? Anyway, lets take a look at this outfit. Starting with the T-Shirt. Some one please shoot his stylist, if he even has one. The shirt is about 3 to 4 sizes too big not to mention the pants. Honestly,
who matches their pants to their shirt with a bird on the crotch and on the chest. Dumb Nigga. And my favorite part of the outfit... the boots! I mean I coulda given the dude a little respect if he was wearing Tims for the shear fact that they were actually and still are a respectable shoe, what is he wearing? They look like a cross between Kanye's new kicks and a fucked up pair of hunti
ng boots from wal-mart.
This outfit may not have been accpetable in 1999. OJ...YOU FAIL
Next
Id like to look at Crime Mob. Look at the picture.... …. …. …. self explanatory. Diamond o
r Princess should take in Cynco Black's T and wear it as a dress. I mean c'mon. Its niggas like this that are
the reason that some people don't have blankets at night. Crime Mob...YOU FAIL. And we see this from city to city. Jacksonville to Shreveport, Birmingham to Charlotte.
I propose a couple solutions to this dilemma that is plaguing the southern states.
Blow up all Citi Trendz locations.
Impose a dresscode on school age rappers like Soulja Boy Tell'Em
Put itching powder in every pair of slouch sox.
Let them know that Barack won and give them the memo that they're setting us back.
Or do what most of the fashion world does... say fuck the south, and move on. Oh and another side note... that camo shit yall wear is stupid too.
So lets be real... First I'd like to big up those artists from the south that actually understand fashion. BUT more importantly. I'd like to issue a statement.
Before you decide to leave your place of residence looking like this:
Get a magazine, watch a TV show or read this blog and get your mind right.
Much love to you and yours,
@Dead Mike.