Goodnight Moon

"And maybe and then the wind just starts to moan
Outside the door he followed me home
So goodnight moon
I want the sun
If it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say goodnight moon" -Shivaree, Goodnight Moon

The closer the end of my matriculation approaches, the faster I realize that I need to come up with ways not to lose my mind.

I thought about Mary Jane, but I remembered that I don't smoke. I thought about alcohol, twice. But I remembered that me and alcohol aren't on friendly terms. So, the next best thing is food, and FIKE to make up for my renewed passion in food. So I propose that FIKE places an automatic queue that is based on your time of entry. If you know that your routine is to enter, go to the treadmill, chill out on the bike, do a few seated leg presses, you should have the option to enter this data in - that way the chick who has been on the treadmill for 45 min (when the limit is thirty, are you in training for a marathon?)has an automatic cool down entered in mid jog. Yes, I know that there is a probability that she will fall of due to her lack of stamina, but really, after 45 min of running, you really shouldn't event be alive right now. Call it a favor.

So I think of new ways to think. New ways to explore the universe. New ways to broaden my horizons without broadening myself. Like trying to figure out if a cracker is just a hard cooked piece of bread, or stale bread with a few extra additives. Maybe trying to figure out if organic products are really organic. Half of the time, anything with any health additive only needs to have 10% of something in it to be considered "enriched." Half the time isn't only "partially healthy" because the healthy additive is outweighed by all the other junk in it. Like Nyquil. If you're going to take Nyquil, you might as well just take a shot and call it a night. I'd rather the shot, at least it will taste better. I'm just saying.

So, the next time you're walking on campus, and you're trying to find a better way to make you day interesting take something you see everyday and analyze it differently than how you usually do. For instance, I walk by the reflection pool a lot. Now rather than thinking of it as a degenerate cesspool of toxic waste, I see the wildlife, and appreciate the acid- I mean water- that sprays on me as I walk by on a hotter than hell day. I have yet to lose an eye, so I think it's pretty safe.



Or not. I'm just saying, don't take a dive or dip your finger in it. God didn't just trouble this water, He made it "bitter" i.e. poisonous. Don't do it.

In the end, new ways of life promote new ways of thinking which promote new educational endeavors. Save a planet and think, before you drink, before you wink. The only society that's a dead society is a stupid society. And did I mention that fear of God is the beginning of all knowledge? I'm just saying.

'Tis All.

Thanks to a really good friend...

I had the fantasy of my life today.

I saw myself riding a Harley, donned in leather with a glove and high boots. Leaning into my bike while the air caressed my curves and my helmet had a nice little picture of flames with a skull and cross-bone and a randomly placed ankh. And I popped a wheelie. Yep.

I know it seems a little odd, but this is my blog, and you can stop reading now if you want.

My bike was so smooth, black, red, and silver. And shiny. And I thought about my car, my Shadow, my little black baby. She rides smoothly enough, but I found myself placed in a position where I imagined myself revving my engine and pressing the gas to get the feel of that open aired acceleration. Driving down 123 picking up speed for no reason, then remembering what part of SC I was in and slowing back down. Not to mention "Stronger" was playing on the radio, which is already a head banger that only fueled my desire to speed up.

So... does this mean I need a stick shift? Does it mean I need an open road? Does it mean I need to be thankful for what I have yet get what I want regardless of the circumstances so that I can be free for real? I think so. There are too many unconquered territories to sit in one place reading about them. So, I think that it's almost time for the hippie in me to be embraced - for the nomad in me to look for a suitable land - for the pirate in me to tread the ocean- and for the Khemetic entity to find a better spot on the Nile. Yep.

So what's the moral of this story? Once a random old white guy starts giving you advice about catching a sugar daddy, it's time to reconsider what you're doing in life, what your priorities are, and what makes you happy. Whether it be a motorcycle or bar of chocolate, whether you're in church or at the bingo hall; whether democrat or republican, oldest or the youngest- happiness is not a destination, it's a journey.

What's your fantasy?

'Tis All.

By George, I think I've got it!

Alright, why do good girls like bad guys?

I like bad guys. Let me tell you why:

Bad guys have that middle finger to the world attitude, but they cool with it. They don't hold grudges, they don't talk about getting revenge, they don't need to. Because they already know how it's going down.

Bad guys are tatted up- I would lose my mind for a couple of tats, you hear me?

Bad guys are ripped for no reason. Running from the law will do that to you, like my almost-man. I hope he hid that shotgun.

Bad guys go to church! Yes I said it. The Bible is law for the bad guy, they know that scripture back to front and back again. And yet still, trouble manages to find them, making the good girls' lives so much more interesting.

Bad guys know how to get what they want. By any means necessary. Enough said.

Good girls want bad guys for the excitement, knowing that the new day will bring some type of interruption of everything. You know like my almost - relationship that ended abruptly due to some unforeseen jail time, that I had absolutely nothing to do with, mind you.

Good girls want the bad guy to balance them out so that they can learn the tell-tale signs when their man is messing up. Like my almost - relationship that ended abruptly due to the fact that he decided that he didn't want me talking to guys around him and I had to lay down law, with a quickness.

Good girls want that guy that is going to take them to new places. This will not be expounded upon.

In the end however, the good girl has to grow up and the bad guy eventually turns into the good guy with a scarred past or dead, but I'm hoping for the first option. The good girl gets tired of the bad guys after a while, and finally finds another good guy with a scarred past, and they accept each other for who they are, and they go on to have a blessed relationship, a hot and kinky marriage, and kids who grow up wondering why daddy be looking at momma like that. I'm just saying.

Good girls like bad guys, or just good guys with a bad past who don't equate resourcefulness with ghetto but also knows the difference between a shrimp fork and a salad fork. And can read Poe next to Pac. And know when I wanna fight or wanna be romantic, or fight while being romantic, a la Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I'm just saying.

Yes I am a good girl. Yep, yep, yep. It probably explains why I end up with bad guys. Yep, yep, yep. Ain't my type of hype, (courtesy of Full Force - or the bad guys from House Party - who look like NWA but sing like 112 or something). But in reality I like bad guys who grow up into good guys. That would be the case. Or good guys with a bad streak, as long as that bad streak isn't abusive because then I'd turn into Lorena Bobbitt or somebody strange. Maybe Angela Bassett in waiting to exhale. I shall not be moved... easily. I'm too fat.

The key issue: why do good girls like bad guys? JUXTAPOSITION (and by that I do NOT mean 69, your nasty arse).

'Tis All.

Am I Tired? Yep of you.

Ok, so it seems like this topic has been on everyone's mind.

To the men: Double standards are not what's up. "Yes, I like you and your homegirl, just trying to decide which one I like more." That's not cool. Don't do that - you're asking for that emotional charge that you all try to avoid. Especially if it ain't the right time of the month. Stop leading us on, then get mad when you don't get what you want. More than likely, me and homegirl have probably discussed you at some point and time. Heck, we might have put out an APB on you until we find somebody that we really want. I must admit, that I have passed a man in my past - but that was justified. And even if it wasn't, I didn't want the hassle anymore. And we talked about it, figured it was the best course to go, then deuces. (I still love my homegirl for that, thanks)!

To the women: Stop getting mad when your man doing wrong, seriously. He was being stupid before y'all made it official. It doesn't just stop at the "I wanna be with you" speech. Come on. Yes, I know exactly what you feel, however, nothing is ever that good. EVER. And even if it was, there is always somebody better. You don't have to settle for the "okay" because you're too impatient to wait for the best. And if he sets you up for the okie-doke, dang homie, sorry about that. That's why you should always have a back-up. If you can't beat them, join them.

So yeah, I'm trying to get over my vindictive ways... I confess, I am the reason that Brad and Jen started having problems. Angelina came later. But Brad was teasing me, and you just can't do that on television. I wanted Will Smith, but Jada threatened to stab me, and I know she used to get down with Pac before I did (R.I.P. you fine hunk of chocolate mass, the only guy who rocked a nose ring with heart), so I know how crazy she just might be. But we cool though.

Let's forget the triflin' everybody. Let's focus on the significant - like how many bars of gourmet chocolate I received in a month. Yeah, that'll do it. Feed me! How many doors did he open, and how did he make me feel when he held me just to be close to me? Dang, I forget sometimes, because I get them confused. But nevertheless, it happened. Why settle for a boy in a grown man's body when I can have a grown man. Thank God for grown men with jobs, cars, and height. Thank goodness for one night stands, test drive and don't have to buy.

Alright, alright, I kid, I kid. Sue me. Just don't shoot me, because I might come back to haunt you. But seriously, the whole courting/proper relationship thing is dead in college. The few who find it are lucky, but they usually have more problems. This is why I am not settling down (settling down, not not dating and enjoying myself) until I'm 27, or at least until I have 2 cats, so that I can be a cat lady.

So in the end, it's better to not have loved than to have loved and get sh!tted on.

'Tis All.

Let's try this again, shall we?

I am on my computer at work extremely bored out of my mind and trying to find a way to keep myself awake so I can go to sleep when I get to my room.

So I decided to write down some random things that were on my mind and see how far I can go before my head falls on my keypad:

1. If I had a dollar for every time I looked at myself, I would buy myself more food.

2. If I got paid to do absolutely nothing and have everybody do my work for me, I'd be the President.

3. If I could click my heels three times, I would be in London at a pub drinking a pint and complaining about how I can't stand the taste of beer.

4. If I had a dime for thoughts on your mind, I'd still need to borrow money.

5. If I could change one thing about this campus, I'd put a little cloud over the sun until Sept. 15.

6. If I could relive one moment again knowing what I know now, I would have keyed the other side of the truck.

7. If I could erase one memory from my mind, it would be good sex- because bad sex is erased immediately.

8. If I could experience anything right now, I'd be at Six Flags on the Ninja.

9. If I could make a wish, I'd want a magic carpet, an oxygen tank, and a monkey.

10. If I could try one thing randomly and get away with it, I'd be an assassin for the day.

11. If I had a daughter, she'd probably have a big butt and try to steal my jeans.

12. If I had a man, I'd probably cheat on him, because we wouldn't even be serious right now.

13. If I didn't have a job, I'd be broke.

14. If I had another job, I'd be on academic probation.

15. If I had furniture, I'd invite you over.

16. If Chuck Norris can do anything, is MacGyver like super-genius?

17. If I could be any villain, it would probably be Dr. Doom without the ugliness mainly because Fantastic Four is really no match for Doom, they get lucky a lot. Or I would be Dark Phoenix, get mad and consume a planet. Sounds good.

18. If I could date a comic book character, it would probably be Gambit, that delicious hunk of Creole playa.

19. If I could watch any Disney movie, it would probably be Aladdin, Mulan, or Pirates of the Caribbean.

20. If I could rewrite any Disney movie, it would Pocahontas. We all know it didn't go down like that.

21. In Road to El Dorado, why were they almost having sex in the temple?

22. If I could be any Greek goddess, I would probably be Aphrodite. Because she's hot!

23. If I could be a bad guy in a movie, I would be a vampire - I already have the teeth.

24. If I could visit Heaven for a day, I would, but I'd be scared that I wouldn't want to leave, and then die. As long as I'm going to Heaven, praise God for it!

24. If I could give any piece of advice to my friends - buy my book when it's published.

25. If I could date any guy right now, he'd probably be Hispanic, with curly hair.

26. If I could play the lead in any movie, I'd be in Clue.

27. Yes, I killed Mr. Boddy, in the study with my wit.

28. If I could wish someone to walk into the door right now, Huey P. Newton it is!

29. If I could befriend anyone, it would be Bill Gates, because Microsoft office is too expensive.

30. If I could, I'd tell you that you aren't all that... wait. I can.

31. If I could live any book of the bible, it would either be Acts or Esther.

32. If I could react one act, well, I wouldn't have spent the night.

33. If I could make one confession, I didn't tell the whole truth.

34. If I could throw something, it would be a baseball bat, as I yelled at the Umpire.

35. If I could do anything my hair right now, I'd cut it asymmetrically, dye it with blue and orange-blond thin streaks and wear big gold hoop earrings.

36. If I have anything right now, it'd be a massage.

37. If I could have theme music, it would probably be the Knight Rider theme song or Make my Funk the P-funk.

'Tis All.

George Clinton& Parliament (funkadelic)

Don't act like you all didn't know it was coming. You know I can't go a day without listening to either them or Fred Hammond. It's a must.

One of the greatest bands of all time.

I am currently Standing on the Verge of Gettin' it On with an Atomic Dog cause he likes my Rumpofsteelskin, and his Mr.Wiggles causes a Big Bang Theory because he's Not Just Knee Deep! But I must Testify that under the Flash Light the Handcuffs didn't look too bad. I went Up For the Down Stroke and he said Ride On but I was trying to avoid the Mothership Connection cause I ain't Bullet Proof. But boy oh boy, Fantasy is Reality and the Cosmic Slop makes me want to Stomp. But in the end, we were just Funkin' for Fun and I looked at him and said All Your Goodies Are Gone then he said Take Your Dead Ass Home. How Rude!

Ok. Ok. So only in my mind.

But now that you know some of the titles, and you know me, then you probably have a good idea that most of these songs have a much deeper meaning than the definition I used them (and just in case you're slow, the titles are bolded/capitalized). But you know, for people to clown on me because I bump them like Jeezy, they will surely listen to a remix of every last one of their tracks unknowingly. Yep I said it, y'all are Parliament fans (you probably seen me bounding to Atomic Dog when it's played on campus- if you don't know me, hell nah I ain't a groupie, that song is fire from the album Computer Games- hence the music video; it's on my Facebook profile). And please don't act like you weren't jamming in House Party.

Parliament make you do things you never thought, like try ecstasy. I mean if one of these guys came up to me and said "Hey lady won't you be my dog, and I be your tree and you can pee on me," (which is a real lyric), I might give that a thought. Or if he leaned over and said "We'll be going down and won't be coming up for air." Shoot no female in her right mind reading this wouldn't give that a generous amount of thought... and guys let's be real...you know if a girl told you that, you'd want it- don't front.

I mean the creative flow of these folks were off the rooftops! An album named Some of my Best Jokes are Friends- can we say 'classic'? And the UFO that descends on stage or even the large bird for Aqua Boogie (PsychoAlphaDiscoBetaBioAquaDooLoop). Who would ever think of even stringing words like that together? Newsflash, it wasn't you when you invented your internet name. A Motor Booty Affair come on, people, no matter how much you hate, you have got to give them props! Mad props, respect, and a glass of wine.

I really want to wear some of the stuff these people had on! I swear, I'd be a child of Apollo for a shiny patent-leather silver cat suit with butterfly collar and star glasses!





My gosh, I want a costume. I feel like I should be high the way I'm thinking right now. Boy oh boy, I wanna wear something shiny.

Y'all you know sometimes you feel like this (this 'fro is BANGING and is part of my inspiration):



Well, I do too. And I can listen to Parliament and then feel like this:



And everybody knows I have a thing for tall, slim built guys, so if you came up to me looking like this:



You just might get it.

*Searches for my anointing oil for my eyes, hands, and computer.*

And I could go on. But I won't.

Y'all just don't understand. Homeboy ran around in a diaper and probably got more play then most guys today. For serious. Somebody take me back like Austin Powers or the B-Day album. Just for a minute.

Did I mention that hip hop is dead? *ducks from bullets and tomatoes* So I just bypass right on by the 2000s and head right on back to the 90s and 70s/80s. I'm just saying. I shoulda been born a little earlier. That way I won't have memory of folks like Vanilla Ice and Milli Vanilli:



America, what were we thinking?

'Tis All.

This little Piggy

I was looking at the greatness of my fat in the shower and wondered to myself, what if "This little piggy" was told today from the 'hood:

Mama Pig is in the kitchen cooking a pot roast with instant mashed potatoes and frozen peas on the side. She starts to the refrigerator to use the last bit of milk that was left over from breakfast. She pulls out the milk carton and starts to pour. Nothing comes out. She thinks to herself These damn kids.

"Who drank this milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge?" Mama Pig looks around and notices that of her five children, no one answers. "I said who drank the milk and left the carton"

A small voice escapes from the corner "Tusk did Mama. I seen him do it." says Piglet holding a cordless phone to her ear.

"Man, shut up." says Tusk.

"Tusk, ain't I done told you 'bout laying on your fat, porky behind all day! Drinking up all my milk. Here take this ten and pick me up some more. And you better bring my change back!"

"Mom, why I always gotta go to the store? Piglet don't do nothing but sit around all day eating and talking on the phone. She need to go to the store too -she stay home all day. And why I gotta give you all your change, I need to get paid for doing your stupid errands."

Piglet takes the phone off her ear."Boy, you betta shut up! I ain't gotta go to no store, cause momma told you to do it. I stay home all day and help momma here. So you don't know what you talking about-"

"What you say boy? You betta watch your mouth befo' I smack the taste out of it. I ain't got time for your foolishness. I work all day, come home cook for your greedy behind- eating up all my food- and I ask you to do one thing and you act like you can't go to to the store...back talking me. Wait 'til your daddy drop off your child support! And don't be tellin' your brother to shut up neither. And clean your dern room, chile! I ain't raised you like that."

So Tusk went to the market, and Piglet stayed home.

By the time Tusk got back, the food would be cold so Mama decided to make the mashed potatoes with water because Papa Pig was about to come home any minute.

"Come on, Piglet, Boar, Hammy, and Sty! Food's ready."

Little pig Sty looked up at his mama when he came in the kitchen and said with an oink "Mama, I don't wanna eat if Tusk ain't here. Why he ain't gotta eat with us?"

SMACK.

"Now sit down and eat this roast and you better not play over your food." The other little pigs followed without a word.

The phone rings.

"Hello."

"Hey baby." It was Papa Pig. "I gotta work late tonight, could you save me a plate?"

"What you mean you gotta work late? You worked 'til midnight last night... You cheating on me? Let me find out-"

"I don't wanna go through this right now. I'll talk to you later" Dial tone. Oh no he didn't.

So the little piggies and Mama Pig had roast beef, and Papa Pig had none, and got none later.

The door opens and in walks Tusk, shoeless, wiping his face with the backs of his empty hands. "Boy what's wrong with you? I sent you out an hour ago to get my milk? And where is my milk?"

"Well," Tusk sniffed, "On my way back, I had the milk, then I seen Juju and he got this new bike. So I asked him if I could ride it. And I put the milk down and took off my shoes so they wouldn't get scuffed, and when I came back he took my shoes and the milk. Then Mrs. Jackson came out and said I stole Marques' bike, but I ain't steal nothing, so I ran."

"I just bought them shoes boy!"

"I know Mama, that's why I'm crying."

"I told you about following up with Juju. His daddy crazy, so he crazy too. Go wash your hands and sit down, and I better not hear nothin' 'bout them shoes either."

And the piggies sat down to eat. Sty was happy his brother was back. Piglet was ready to get back on the phone. The twins, Boar and Hammy threw peas at each other, and Mama Pig was boiling.

'Tis All.

Bombs away?

On a serious note:

My PWI been threatened twice in the past week with bomb threats to major academic buildings. With the removal of computers from the residence halls, the money saved can and should be used by the University to say...uhm... install a tracking device or hire somebody to find out where these email threats are coming from. I mean really, if somebody downloads a song, there's a slip delivered to the person in a timely manner usually given to your RA or attached to your door for added embarrassment. Let's up the standard PWI. I can already find the names, phone numbers, and addresses of the adoptive step-parent of every PWI student here using your handy-dandy directory *In my best blue's clues voice*, so I might as well be able to find their IP Address as well, huh?

I would feel much safer if only I didn't receive an email about these bomb threats. Let's use the sirens as an all purpose means of communication since we NEVER have severe weather. How about only sound the siren in the case of bomb threats, fires, earthquakes and increases in tuition, fees or gas prices? And not necessarily in that order. Are we really inside _____(insert name of PWI) when we receive these emails? No. Matter of fact I feel more outside than anything. "Hey student, there was a fire in the chemistry lab last night. We only had 30 lbs of Sodium stored next to a jug of water, but believe me, you guys were perfectly safe." Really? That's how you feel?

Listen, the next time I get an email about a bomb threat, I will probably send it straight to the trash can. Why? Because by the time I actually get it, the bomb would have probably went off, while I am in class because nobody delays for anything but snow under the Mason-Dixon line. But lo and behold, this is also the school who wouldn't give the students Labor day off- that is until ESPN wanted to film and decided to take away one of our fall break holidays, which we desperately need back. By the time fall break hits, I am ready to kill myself- days away from my birthday- because of school related stress.

Yay for football season? Boo to the idiots who sends bomb threats through email. Oh yeah, and I am thinking that repetitive bomb threats to a public institution is a matter for a higher level of government than the local police to investigate, don't you all agree? Maybe it's linked to the recent mistake of the financial aid dept. Maybe it's to discourage our School pride at the football game tonight. The world may never know.

'Tis All.

Flea Market Blues

The only thing better than a flea market is probably a barbershop...or sex, but that's a different issue.

Flea markets are the best thing since sliced bread and Wal-mart Supercenter. It's the only place where I can get the newest movie release, watermelon and elephant ears, a Buddha incense burner, and a puppy in one stop. I even considered a cat-o-nine tails and a Chinese "ninja-star" just because they had the sh!t. You never know who you might need to "persuade."

First and foremost-the people: Folks at flea markets are OVERLY friendly. Sometimes a little too friendly. One, they know they overcharge so they are willing to bargain with you so that the price is realistic. But when you are selling batteries for $3 (same price as Target) and you wanna sell them to me for $2, but the Chinese man near the entrance sells them for $1, then we have a problem. Two, they know that if they are selling something illegal and they don't treat you right, you'll call them out like Superhead. Yep, I'mma snitch b!tch. Lastly, they want you to buy something so they are going to convince you that you really need this plastic bag that is going to protect your sneakers from rain damage. What the hell I need that for? Shoot, I bought my Jordans from here anyway so I can just get another pair before I leave. Swoosh!

Secondly- rare items that you won't find anywhere else: Pure shea butter, not Palmer's, not a cream, but that good good [And people, if you haven't gotten on this miracle of nature... stab yourself. Shea butter will heal your stab wound- and your split ends- and cure your baby's diaper rash]. I bought a Sega game gear from the flea market. And let's not forget about that movie that you are ashamed that you know about, it's there, I saw it. And that real Gucci (shhhh- don't tell nobody). I'm just waiting for them to start selling textbooks so that I can stop paying my PWI out of my ass with my first born as collateral to take a class knowing good and well we only use that book three times a semester.

Third- FOOD: The fair only comes once a year? Not when you have a flea market nearby! Cheesesteaks, funnel cakes, turkey legs, nachos, and corndogs and chicken wings all cooked by sketchier people than those who work in Waffle House (I must address this poor excuse for a restaurant's existence soon and that of Huddle House). The grease that drips from the Polish sausages could lube my Grandma's elbows for a month (she usually uses chicken grease after she's done eating them). And hot boiled peanuts and candied nuts (no pun intended- you know who you are) are so good when you just don't know what to get, so you want to try something "safe" (as if anything is safe here). Knowing that you are going to get this fi-ya lemonade- to wash all this junk down because you are not paying $2 for water -because you are still bag-less because you just don't know what to buy while you are losing weight in this sweatshop:



is like an IRS refund check.

However, never under any circumstance, should there be a shooting due to gang related activities in or at a flea market. What do you prove by shooting at a flea market? No one who is there can really afford to pay medical bills (I know my broke self ain't) so you shooting is only going to end up with you dead (street justice). You gotta think twice before you shoot somebody in the country or the hood - somebody might surprise your ass with a blowgun and a rope out of nowhere.

And people please, for the love of DSS, keep your kids at bay while walking around in the flea market! Yes I know it's the perfect place to abandon an aggravating child, but don't do it. Because your hoodrat daughter is going to come find me of all people looking for you. I will direct her to the nearest trash can and when she looks away I will run like OJ screaming for my life; until I see that your klepto child lifted my wallet and I have to grab a belt and run after her like Dolemite. Additionally, I can't stand to see kids have temper tantrums in the flea market. It's too hot for that to occur, beat your child immediately or slip some medicine in that lemonade they are asking for. Mellow them kids out.

I'm think I'll hit up the flea market after church- I'll be saved enough to handle the evil therein.

'Tis All.