I'm not a cursing man, but let me tall you, I just so tired of people. Lately, I feel like I stay angry with the world. I always believed in the philosophy, that it can't be everyone. Everyone can't be the problem in some one's life. That if the problem is everyone, then it must be you that is really the problem, because in the end, you are the common factor. However, I think I maybe rethinking that logic. You know it maybe me, but regardless if it's me, people are still irritating the hell out of me. Some days I feel like I just want to punch someone in the throat. Like I said before, I'm not much of a cursing man. I mean there was a brief time in middle school. I was doing it, because everybody was doing it. We all were trying to act older. By high school though, not so much for me. I might have my slip up every now and then. Mostly when I drive. When I drive, I'm a drunk sailor from the South side of the hood. My cousin once mentioned to me, it just feels weird, when they hear me curse. Like it's so out of place. Cursing sometimes to me, just feels so unnecessary, for someone who can't use their words. But I have to say lately though, if feels so good. My favorite is Fuck. Lately, it feels like a nice gooey climax, when I say F*ck. It feels like it is becoming so much easier to say it to. I almost caught my self saying it in church a couple times. That almost rattled me for a second. I was like, take control of yourself Young, realize where you are at. You cannot be doing that in the house of the Lord, but you know what, people are pissing me off there too. There are days, I just want to be like "Screw you Mother Jenkins, you old bag" or "Suck my dick Brother Jones." He probably has sucked a dick too, just saying. I feel like the way I'm going by the end of the year, I'm just going to sitting, in church, saying "Fucking Amen" or "Sheiitt you better preach" Can you imagine sitting next to someone in church, doing that. I remember one time when I was little, at this church we visited. This man was giving this "testimony," but he was quite liberal with his choice of words. It was the only time I ever witnessed a profane testimony.
I tried to catch all of my F^cks in this post, but I'm not sure. I wanted to leave it the real way, but I thougth against it, if anyone reads my blog from work.
Blog World:
Yes, I think I will start with you in my grievances. Look I know I haven't been the best blogger in the world. No news there. A couple months without a post. However I'm so fucking pissed off. Over the past couple years, I have read and been to a lot of different blogs. In that time I have participated in a few Question and Answer post. I'm not 100% sure whose all I have participated in. I know like 4 or 5 for sure, but I believe I have done like 7 or 8. My questions range from silly questions to serious, and a few just wanted to know questions. Now in the two years I have had my blog, I have had questions asked to me in the comment section and emails. Some I answered some questions I didn't. I finally decide to have a Q&A post, where you can ask me anything you want, and what do I get?
Three mutha f*cking, at this point it says 28 comments, Now granted 20 comments is from the same person, someone whose name is a symbol. A symbol I don't know how to even replicate on my keyboard. Look = or whatever your name is, don't be mad if I decide to clean up your comments by deleting a 1 or maybe 15 comments, because you are basically saying the same thing. At first I thought you couldn't type English, until I realized that if you are reading my blog, which is in English, then you must know how to type in English as well. Now Sweetie...hmm no I'm going to go with Buddy, that's gender neutral, type something, let me know if you are a man or female, stop throwing me those fucking symbols and phrases I don't understand. Love ya, thanks for reading my blog.
Now back to what I was saying. F*ck y'all for your three f*cking questions. Oh Southern Gal, I'm really shocked at you. I'm putting you on blast. You know you were right on my last post, when you said, that your Q&A post wasn't a year ago...no it will be a year the 20th of August, and still no answers. Thank goodness for an email filing cabinet. I found the questions I sent to you, 20 questions, and you couldn't produce 1 for me. That's all right though...you or anyone else who reads my blog, don't have to worry about asking me another damn question. I will be only a fool once...okay maybe twice...okay three times, but after that I'm through. I will address the 3 questions I was asked in another post, perhaps, I will address each question in a different post. Real Hustla once again no shock in your question.
Retail:
It seems where ever I go, people seem to just piss me off now. I went into a Best Buy, not to long ago, bought Erykah's new CD. I paid for it, and walked out the store. Now anyone who has been to Best Buy, knows they have that little kiosk or booth near the entrance where the employee sits. They watch different cameras, and greet and says good-bye to customers, as they come and go. The skinny light skinned boy says good-bye to me, as I leave with my CD. The minute I walk out the store, it hits me that I have left my keys, because I look for them to hit the automatic unlock. I turn back around and go back inside. I pass ole dude at the kiosk, and he says, "Excuse me sir, come back here." I turn around and tell him, I forgot my keys. He tells me how he needs to put a sticker on my merchandise. I tell him once again, how I'm just coming back for my keys, at the check out. Then suddenly he snaps, "Look, when you walk into MY store, with merchandise you put a sticker on it. You understand me?" I just stood there for a moment and just stared at him. For a moment I was a little in a paralyzed state, I was trying to register, where I was. I mean I just knew I couldn't have been in a retail store, where I have just purchased merchandise, and been talked to like I'm a child in the hood, by this little high yellow Mutha Fucka. "My Store," I didn't know it was his store. He should have named it Little Light Skinned Boy Buy, so I would recognize the Head Negro In Charge. He needs a reality check, real quick. Let something happen to his pale ass tomorrow, they will not be closing the store in his memory. It will be business as usual, and he will be replaced, quick, fast, and in a hurry, buy a big black women or a skinny white guy. Moving on... In a trance like state I hand him my CD, where he puts a sticker on it. Then in almost a daze, as I think about what just happen I walk to the counter where the cashier smiles at me, as I pick up my keys. I smile back. I walk back to an entrance. The little light skinned mutha fucka, who by the way I thought was cute a first. I did, except I thought that he probably didn't have any black friends. He looked like a swirl baby, and he gravitated to his white side, more than the side of his black parent. However, this was all before he snapped at me. As I was saying, I walked back to the entrance, as he plasters this obviously fake smile on his face, like he didn't just talk to me any ole way. Then he tells me, "Have a good evening, Sir." Without missing a beat I reply, "Yeah, FUCK YOU Too," without giving him a second look. In my mind its a look of shock or at least stun, on his face, however I'm not sure. I wanted to look back at least once, but that would have messed up the effect. Now I have worked in the public before, I know customers can be a bitch at times, but you never talk to them disrespectfully...you know unless provoked, and he was not.
Unfortunately he is not the only one in retail pissing me off. I was at Walmart a couple weeks ago, same thing questionable customer service. Okay I think I have made a point previously on my blog, or maybe other people's blogs...someone's blog, that I really hate Walmart. I mean I get its advantages and all that...low price items and big ass store, however I just hate going there. It never feels like a run in and right back out experience. It always feels like a mini journey no matter, what you go in to get. You never can find a parking space, long lines, workers who don't want to be there. The only time I like going is late at night, when they have already closed one entrance side up. Anyway I go to grab some deodorant for in the morning. It's around 11 or 12 at night, or maybe even later. I'm not sure; I know they only had two lines open, so that should tell you something, about the time. I put my items on the grocery belt. I've seen this cashier before, at night. She must only work at night. She's an attractive chocolate Sista, with hair all the way down her back, a little hard, and a little hood. She rings up my purchases. I scan my credit card, I typed my zip code or security code of my AMEX card. American Express sometimes require the four digits on the front. My card says approve and the receipt prints out, then is when Sista girl decides to ask me for my ID I was a little surprised, I had never been asked for my ID in Walmart. I didn't have it with me, all I brought in was my card, I left my wallet in the card. The basketball shorts I had on, didn't have pockets. I tell her I don't have my ID on me, but I can go to my car and get it. She looks at me and tells me to hold on. She then yells at her manager that she needs assistance. He yells back at her, what is it she needs. She then yells back to him, that I have a card, that isn't mine. I snap at her, that wasn't what I said. She then corrects herself, and tells him that I have a card, that I can't prove is mine. Now technically that was true at that moment, but it still sounded horrible the way she said it. At this point there is a line of people behind me now. I'm embarrassed and angry at this point. The manager comes over, to tell me that it's their policy for all Identification with credit card purchases. I tell him I'm going to get my license. He then proceeded to put his key into the register, to cancel the sell, until I get back. It won't work. I tell him, that he is probably going to have to void the transaction. It was already approved and went through. He asked the cashier for the receipt, she doesn't have it, but I do. She has my credit card and I have the receipt already. He shakes his head in frustration, and takes the credit card from her and hands it to me, and tells me to have a nice evening. He repeats to me though that it's always been Walmart's policy for Identification on credit card purchases, and for me to remember that in the future. At this point I'm pissed off. I tell the manager to stop acting like this is Walmart's old and on going policy. He tells me it always been their policy. I tell him, I'm a little surprised at that, because it certainly wasn't their policy two weeks ago, when the same cashier rung me up. Now I could have left it at that statement, but I was pissed. I went on to tell the manager, that it wasn't their policy, when the same said cashier, was talking about how she was screwing a a stock guy. I pointed out the gremlin looking guy she was telling this too. He was sorting through baskets of merchandise they had to put back out on the floor. I went on to explain, how she had to drop him, because he didn't tell her, that his recent ex girlfriend was another cashier, that she could stand. I then explained how she doesn't do anyone's left over, and hand be downs, especially triflin' bitches...her exact words. The looks on their faces, was exactly what I was looking to achieve. I Her look was shock. I like to think she was thinking,
How you remember all of that?...and how you just going to put all my business out like that in front of my boss? His look was just of embarrassment. like I mentioned before, there was now a line of customers behind me. He looked at the cashier, then back at me. All he could say then was bye and to have a nice evening. I was then.
Side Bar: I have tested that policy since that night, and have yet to be asked for my ID, even for a check. However, I've had it from then on.
Family and Friends:
It feels like there is drama always going on in my family. There is always something or always someone wanting something. I won't go into everything, because it would be like writing a book. I will tell about this one thing, that will show how frustrated I have been. My mother was telling about something, and I just flipped. I believe I started off by saying "Why the Hell do we go to church? We are suppose to be a Christian family...and I can't tell the difference between us and F*cking Niggas in the streets. This Fucking family gets on my damn nerves!" And scene.
Okay...as I mentioned, I rarely if ever curse. Especially in front of my Momma. That look I wished I saw on the high yellow mofo at Best Buy, well I saw it on her face. She was a little upset, with me talking any kind of way in front of her. I think she understood a few weeks later, when she was doing the same thing, in regard to someone, in our family. I just think people and certain situations, very much can take you out of being yourself. You shouldn't let it, but sometimes it's very hard not to do.
Next order on the agenda is to new parents. I think new parents should think and discuss very long and hard, who their baby's Godparents are going to be, before telling people. Do not ask me to be your baby's Godfather, only to take it back later down the road. I was asked to be a baby's Godfather. I mean I'm close to the parents, but I was surprised. At first I was like am I at that age now, to be asked to be someone's Godparent. I mean I know I could have been having my only babies for years, but this feels like such a more mature thing to be asked. I felt very honored, and very proud. Well, that was a short trip. The date had been set months and months ago for the Christening. Now some people feel like a Baby Christening is different from a Baby Dedication. The dedication being just parents dedicating or giving their baby's to the lord to guild and protect their paths. The christening being on the same wave length, but also appointing Godparent, who are traditionally are suppose to help or ensure their spiritual or religious development. At one time I believe it also meant that if something ever happen to the parents the God parents, would become the parents. However nowadays it's a little different, more so just take a more special interest in their upbringing and personal growth. Anyway they had a dedication, at their church, where I was told there was no need to come. It was no big deal, nothing like the christening...blah blah blah. I was cool with that, not a huge fan of their church anyway. I then hear through the grapevine, that at the dedication, God parents were announced. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. When I talked to the parents, not one mention of what went down at the dedication. However a couple months later I was told the christening was going to be "postponed." Apparently so many things are going on, schedule conflicts, and blah blah blah. I'm playing it cool, I mention when will it be rescheduled. I was then informed, next summer. Hmm....O...Kay. I use to work in a department store, and I know a little about baby christening outfit. I know that they go up to about 24 months and 2T, however in my personal opinion baby christening's are not as cute, when the babies are walking and talking. Now even though the baby wouldn't be near 24 months, they definitely would be walking and talking to some extent by then. To this day, they have yet to address me that I have be replaced as God Father. I haven't said anything either. I'm thinking I will bring it up in the spring or early next summer. Say something like "So has the new christening date been reset, I need to know soon" See what they say then. It would be even worse because they had let like a year go by, by then, with me thinking I was still the God Father. Horrible guilt, is what I will be trying to achieve. I have a little experience in achieving that. I don't think it's the fact I was replaced, but the way they have went about it. All this behind my back, and not even that, but not addressing it to me after, and saying something apologetic. I mean I understand, I get it. They wanted a couple, instead of two single people. I get that. This is an older couple, with children of their own. From what I hear the two younger ones are reading, way beloooowwww their grade level. The older ones in high school and college, although doing well academically, they can't be trusted in the house alone, or even to watch the young ones for a day. I say great choice, bang up job.
The Men-es:
Where Do I begin?...Well lets talk about the one who really pissed me off recently. Now I have not talked about him directly on my blog before, but I have talked about him, indirectly. I'm angry right now, so let me just get it out for a minute. F*ck you black Mother F*cker. You are the most inconsistent nigga I have met. You go from me not hearing from you for months, to the long ass rambling messages. How ever let's talk about our recent, and from my opinion our last encounter. First F^ck you for making me feel bad. F&ck you for taking me to Denny's. F@ck for making me feel bad at Denny's. Maybe you were right I was being snarky and snide. News flash, I didn't feel like talking about damn wife, that night. I feel like we always talk about your wife and your marriage. I'm usually okay with it, but I just wasn't in the mood. There has been times where we talked about your wife the whole time. I have sat on a phone while you bitched and complained about her for TWO hours! I didn't feel like hearing some damn story about your wife and some chick at your job, she don't like, at some Yolanda Adams concert. You know what else, F%ck your "brilliant" kids too. That's right, f!ck them too! I get it, they are smart, but don't go on and on about how marvelously smart they are, then question me about my schooling. I will f$ck you with my right shoe. I get it, your wife and kids are a big part of your life, and you talk about them, but you know what, I don't want to hear it, every time! Have some new sh!t happen to you without them, and get back to me then.
I just don't like you as a person anymore. You irritate me on some level. You know what else. I stand behind what I told you at Denny's. You take to damn long to tell a simple ass story. Your pig feet and ham hock eating ass needs to speed it up sometimes. I get it you from the country, where you take your time. My family is from the country, but guess what, you not in the country anymore. We in the city now, you need to speed those stories up. It shouldn't take you half and hour to tell a 10 minute story. Maybe it was rude to tell you that, but...it was the truth. You are absolutely right. I have changed. Maybe I am, as you put it, snarly, snide and mean. I'm sitting in a God damn Denny's, with a guy who can't tell a simple story about his wife, in a reasonable about of time. Screw you for bringing up all the other times we had lunch or dinner a year ago, and how pleasant I was then, compared to now. What happen to me, you ask? You! You made me change towards you Sherlock. I can't believe I got felt guilty and bad. Bravo for flipping the script on me. Well, done, but you did this too me. Why you keep f^cking with me then?
You have turned me into a nagging, bitchie nigga. I always got to bitch and complain, to let you know I am not rolling over and taking your BS behavior. Another thing I stand behind is this. Get off your high horse, and looking down on me like how dare I even suggest you would cheat on your wife, with another woman. You have done it with me. If you can cheat on her with a man, I don't see how it's such a far stretch, that you could cheat on her with another woman. Just when you see me, keep on walking by. I'm good, son. Let's keep this moving.
And another thing either cut that mini afro down or get a damn texturizer, because nappy fro, isn't cute. I done told you!
After this I was so angry I could spit nails. Who should call me but my good ole friend Von. He called a couple times during Dinner at Denny's. I kept hitting ignore. I answered. Why are some people so dense? Why hasn't he picked up yet that I hate when the first thing out of his mouth is, "Where you at?" I have yet to answer that question. I always answer it, with another question. "Why you need to know?" His next response is always, "You going to swing by here?" Uh no. By now I usually just question what does he want. I feel like there is a motive behind his calls. He never just calls to see how I'm doing. Get mad...ain't no one begging me to come by...huh? Good, because I'm not. Click dial tone. The last person I wanted to see was him. You know what thought, what pisses me off even more, is when I tell him off and hang up on him, nigga, never calls back pissed or to question me...it pisses me off more.
Oh and by the way I was mugged. Well, I guess mugging means by weapon, so I guess I should just say I was robbed.
I'm just tired of people.
Posts
...I had too!
When Bow Wow isn't around town promoting future BET movie classics like "Lottery Ticket," or starring future Madea movies...not making music...making a fool of himself on twitter...or around town with, on again, off again, girlfriend Angela Simmons; Bow Wow likes hang out around town with his Louis Vuitton bag. I'm guessing a Nintendo DS whatever...Vaseline, for what he tells people are for his new tats, he just got, but really is for his lips...and Listerine mouth strips. I feel like there is nothing original about his bag, because...
Okay let's not pussy foot. He looks a hot ass mess in this picture. I mean his bag looks like he got it from Roscoe the "Bag Man" at Beauty Salon, who always telling the ladies it's real Louis Baitton or real Koach bags, that he got in New York real cheap. Snoop's bag looks cheap, but goes nicely with his blue shower cap. There is no question, what's in his bag...weed...weed...cheetos...some more weed...HoHo's...Doritoes...and pink cushion hair rollers.
All I have to say on this is, at least the color isn't awful. It's original unlike wannabe baller Bow Wow. I feel he would have old cough/throat lozengers...dirty old tissues, that he would use to spit on and wipe the shmutz you got on your face...eye class repair and cleaner kit...wet wipes, for when he has to do number two in public restroom...and old coupons in his old man hand bag.
Seal looks like he took a step back into 1994. He needs to give back Synclair from Living Single, her purse back. His wife is Heidi Klum. One of the today's last supermodels, host of Project Runway, judge of Germany's Next Top model, and yet her husband walking around looking like that, with a purse across his chest, like he got a Blossom hat in his car. Maybe it's because those old wrangler shorts he got on won't fit all of his...um...I don't even know what Seal would carry. He needs to carry condoms, as fertile as Heidi is. I know he needs to carry a bottle of Afro Sheen and a comb for those mops, that him and Heidi call their children's hair. Everytime I see them, they look like "Momma Do My hair paleaseeee! I think with all those kids they have he really needs to invest in a much bigger bag, to carry little bags of Cherrios, Goyurt, juice boxes, emergency pull ups, and once again condoms, for those spare of the moment sex in the afternoon moments with Heidi. I feel like he is banging htehell out of her every chance he gets, with those rugrats. He needs to carry a bag like...
