Skeletons in my closet

The silent running dialogue that I often have with myself.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Well, well well I’ll be damned, I might as well tell you who I am!

When I was young, I loved comic books. My cousins introduced me to them during long summers in the country. I would spend the entire day reading and rereading the marvelous adventures of the Avengers, WonderMan, and the Uncanny X-men. I would relive the stories in my head adding characters and plot twist. That is when I first fell in love with reading.

I learned about race relations in Luke Cage Hero for Hire. A black ex-convict super hero who was determined to get paid for his power but always did the right thing at the end of the day.

I learned about tolerance and equality in the X-men. Mutants being different and all, they were shunned and exploted in society.

Thor was all about honor and and values. His brother was evil, dad was an ass but he was expected to and did give his life for all of them.

My favorite had to be the Incredible Hulk. The comic book Hulk is so different from the TV Hulk, and the Movie Hulk. The main premises is the same though, you make this simple muther f*cker mad and all hells going to break loose.

After the Hulk, I would move to SpiderMan and then the X-men. Both comics have turned into great movies. I really like Spidey-2, especially that one scene where he stops the subway train from careening off a bridge. Man I almost cried on that part. Okay maybe I did a little. Just a sign of solidarity ya-know.

Comics were and probably are still a reflection of modern day events. Comics serve as a mirror of our world with a few super heroes added to deal with heroic problems. Not just super villains, but problems that result from simple human elements.

When I would get back to the “Big City” I would ride my bike to the nearest Stop-n-Go or 7-11 and spend hours standing in air-conditioned comfort reading.

SideNote: Now all corner stores are run by them Yang-Xis or Abudul and they have a strict “U-no read yu bi” policy. Sorry I had to add that in!

I made a promise to myself that the day I became employed I would buy whatever $1.25 comic I wanted.

Switching to almost present day, I began buying comics in 1987. All different titles all different characters. I stopped in 1999 when I ran out of time and money. I couldn’t kick back and read a book I had to study. Plus the price had increased to a dramatic $3 or more. So I lost my jones for the habit.

Fast forward to present day. I bought a house. I moved all my apartment stuff over. I got a call from my mom.

“Well” she said in an open tone, suggesting that I knew her meaning.
“Well, what ma!”
“Well, come get these damn comic books out of my house!”

SideNote: I have not lived in my Parent’s house since I was 18. I was put out by my Dad…long story. But every time I moved from one apartment to another I would store all my comics back in old room at my Parent’s House. So basically I ended up with a room full of boxed sealed comic books.

No real idea on what to do with them. My daugther doesnt get it, she says they are for boys.

I just hope one day I will have a son and be able to pass on my first love affair with reading.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Size Matters

Watching GMA this morning, in between ESPN and NFL Access, and I noticed the chic Monique was giving an interview. Ya know that chick from “The Parkers”. Well her new claim to fame is hosting a beauty pageant with a twist. It is going to be a beauty pageant with all fat women.

SideNote: I spent 10 minutes trying to decide if I was going to say fat women or large, or heavy, or plus size. But if you saw it on TV this morning the wealth of those women fell in the fat category.
I have nothing against big girls. Been around that road before. Around that road.

Now I will tell you this much I know to be true. It just aint healthy. If you are big, you can be cute and sexy. But you can be subject to heart disease, diabetes, and high blood pressure. I think it is such a lie to suggest that fat people should feel comfortable being themselves. That is just being lazy, accepting, trifling.

I am on this little gym kick right now. It will probably last another month or two, just trying to cut some pounds, loose the gut. The problem is that I very rarely see young sisters in the gym. See sisters don’t realize that you fine from 15-26. If you don’t work it after that it will be thick (27-34) Then fat (34-on up).
I see plenty of white women in the gym, they all about getting fit. God did not give them what black women have naturally. So they go to the Stairmaster, treadmill, squats, lunges… anything to shape or tone up…they want that ass, those thighs, that waist that black women take for granted.

But back to the women on this show. I mean damn. And Monique is trying to sell it hard. I think really the only people that will watch the show are those guys that have a fetish, and the people who are watching to say “Damn look at her fat ass".

Either way I don’t think that is the point of the show. Maybe I am wrong maybe I miss the point. I just don’t think you can force people to accept you by putting it on TV and saying shame on you for not accepting.

Now Dove, is doing some adds with regular women. The ads are real. Real women of all sizes. That is positive body imaging.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Closet Porn

Okay just to clear my head and make some positive suggestions for a few of you out there in the Webverse.

Sex is some cool shyte.

Not just sex but most of the things connected to sex is some really cool shyte.

How did I stumble upon this tid bit of crucial information?

I just found out that porn is a 10 to 14 billion some-odd-dollar a year business in America. Just in America!!! Sex is more profitable than almost every other entertainment business. Including Football!!!!!

Okay let me give you a little back drop on why this has come to a head. I was an observer of porn. I did not make it a habit but I would or use it to spice up an evening amongst friends with the accidental introduction of a video.

SideNote: Now I didn’t watch porn with my boys, believe it or not once you get past the discovery age, sharing porn amongst male counter parts is an admission of sorts.

When I first discoverd Porn, I was at the tender age of 12 maybe 13. Now I had come across some old PlayBoy Mags but nothing can compare to people actually f*cking on TV.

So when I first discovered Porn I was destined to be a Porn star. I though it would be a great job. But as I got older modesty killed that dream and I moved on to thinking the Porn Camera man was the coolest job in America because you got to watch and you didnt have to appear on camera. Then as I matured and realized how the world worked I figured that the director would be the best gig cause you had that control, and woman love control/power. Know in my ripe age i figured that the star, camera, and director all stood a distanst 2nd to the best porno job/ the best job in the world. The Porn producer.

SideNote:The the Producer gets to cast the movie...hello Casting Couch.

But you guys would be amazed at how many shocked cries of dismay would eventually turn into lustfull gazes and thoughtful comments. Pointers, and suggestions, tellalls in a sense.

"Oh I hate that position",
"I never tried that"
"Guys dont mind when you do that???"
"I thought I was the only one that did that!"

I mean that shyte used to work on some women. If you want to get something moving in the right direction simply pop in a porno, add some unmitigated gall, and you eventually have a spicy night.

But for some reason we all (women more so than men) pretend that porn is just not our thang. Now I aint saying you need to have a large collection, or that the names Mr. Marcus, and Jenna Jameson should be familiar to you, I am just saying that it is a 14 billion dollar a year industry and those names probably are and you probably do.

Picture this:
You invite me to your crib. We sit we talk. We have a nice night. Now I used to believe that if A woman invited you to her house it meant she wanted, on some level, to have sex with you.

SideNote: I don’t want yall to dwell on that comment. I will get into my sexually exploits in some later post but lets try to focus on this porn topic.

Maybe I just ran with some hoes. Maybe these were just some sexually liberated females. Maybe they were closet porn lovers! But I would have to suggest that in conversations woman, now subject to this research, all would detail some brief knowledge of the porn world.
IE…
My brother used to leave that laying around.

My boyfriend used to watch it.

My found porn in my parents room once.

My girl had a video once.

Those admissions always are followed by true candor…
“BUT I NEVER REALLY WATCHED ONE!!!”

As if to suggest that porn is vile filthy little habit, akin to masturbation, and sex toys.

So if the night is going along nicely, it was up to me to push it in that direction. So when I ask for the tour of the place I am taking mental notes. Hmm, SURPRISE, lets just press play in the VCR.

SideNote: Okay, now they have DVD players but back in the gap everyone had VCRs in their rooms.

So sure enough 5-10 times there would be some manner of filth in the VCR. See unlike DVD when you turn off the ole VCR it stops where you climax …(cough) I mean finish …(cough) I mean stop.

So I press play. Watch the video. Gage the freakiness. And move on.

SideNote: Some women do not like to watch other black women. Some only watched black couples. Some showed a penchant for the adventurous with gang bang videos and female on female. I once made a rather hasty departure after viewing some male on male action.

The point is no one ever admits to watching porn. It’s a 14 billion dollar a year business. Even after being cold busted most would say they friend was showing them that tape or some other lame excuse. Then I would have to look under the bed, or check the closet for the “Sex Shoe Box”. Check the nightstand for an unusual number of “AA”’s. I would eventually hit the jackpot.

SideNote: Never mind…you get it.

But I never understood why in such an open society, women are still so taboo about sexually gratification.

If you don’t have a flick hit me up and I will send you one…I huh, borrowed it from my cousin.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

I love her

I still don’t know if I am trying to maintain anonymity in writing this blog page.

I imagine that everyone that reads this may be able to follow the “Blues Clues” to determine my secret identity. But until I am outed I remain somewhat mysterious about my true Identity.

But in an effort to keep you as head up as possible let me tell you about one of my prize possessions. My wife! Yes, I said possession. Deal with it.

SideNote
Let me just tell you that every married man should look at his wife with pride. He should be proud and happy to treasure her. She is mine…I earned her. And believe you me it took years and years of hard work.

Now I will try my best to describe her:
Her most dominating feature is her skin color. I have never seen such an even and fluid tone. She is the original color brown that god intended black people to be. Just sweet deep chocolate brown… damn!

Now I will have to describe her hair. It is the source of the NickName. It flows, and she works it. Imagine me lying under her as it floats like whispers over my skin. It brings both silk and savagery to mind. Yeow.

She is a woman; she is soft delicate, feminine, a lady…Juicy.

What else can I say, I truly love dis creature, from her laugh to her scowl.

Let me give you a little background.

We met in school. As friends, we hung out with a group of our classmates. But as likes find their likes, we eventually spent that friend time closer and closer. I think that is what makes it so extremely special. We are friends. We respect each other. We respect each others opinions.

SideNote: I am still always right!

Our friendship blossomed into a relationship. A mean our whole little beginning could have been scripted straight from LifeTime Network. We fell in love. And it was good.

We developed our love over years not months. Never got mad at each other even if we were angry or upset. We did not fuss, cuss, we always talked. We decided what we were doing, developed a plan on getting it done. We built our relationship, we developed our bond, and we nurtured our love.

Its funny, I have so much I want to write but it is not coming out. Maybe I am having an off day because I am really having problems expressing myself.

Holler.