Skeletons in my closet

The silent running dialogue that I often have with myself.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Life can go on!

Quick word or two.

Sorry if I am all over the place...but I feel happy today

My daughter had surgery this morning. Everything went fine. She is at home resting. No surgery is minor, especially if its your child, and I have a real issue with doctors that tell you it isn’t anything to worry about. If it was so minor she wouldn’t need surgery…right?

Well now that that large stress inducer has been taken off my back, I feel 20lbs lighter. I don’t look it I just feel it. I have got to drop about 10lbs in the gut area. But diet is out of the question. Further, I am just not disciplined enough on the exercise. I was small all my life. Thin bone structure and everything. Bout my mid to 20’s I started filling in. Now that I am in my early 30s I need to stop filling in. Some is spilling over the edges. I really think that it is harder for people who have never really had weight issues to drop pounds. The concept is foreign to us. My whole life changes from eat as much of whatever I want to…well let me eat smaller portions and watch the white starches. Dangone!

A good friend of mine lost 50lbs in like 2months. Dude is on a serious hospital recommended diet. I didn’t know he needed to drop some weight, I mean I knew dude was big but some cats are just big. He is one of those former offensive line playing bruhs. He really looks much better though. Healthier, he doesn’t look as if he might pop. Plus his clothes look like they fit better. Good for dude! Of all things he looks shorter, maybe dude had fat under his feet.

Last but not least, I was so disrespected today. Every nurse, doctor, administrative employee, and receptionist spoke to my wife in regards to my daughter’s surgery and care. Not one person addressed a comment, or question to me. They did address me when they asked for the co-pay. But I was pissed a little; we really do live in a chauvinistic society. Everyone assumed that I was just along for the ride. Shyte, I been mother, father, and friend to this little girl her whole life. It really bothered me. I mean they even brought in a bunny suit so the parent could accompany the child until she was sedated. The bunny suit was sized for my wife.
I told them, “I don’t think that will fit!”
They told me, “It’s for the parent that goes in the surgery room.”
I told them, “It doesn’t fit!”
They told me, “It’s for her mother.”
I told them, “That’s fine, but bring one for me because I am going in with my daughter!”
The looked puzzled and apologized. But c’mon.

Was it the male thing, of the black thing, or the black male thing? I get the same kinda hassle at her schools and her events. If you deal with parents please include the father as much as the mother.

Some of us are still daddies.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

How real is the Electroverse? I mean how far does the web intricate itself in our regular lives, our real lives. How much of our live have become email, instant messaging, blogs, newsgroups, forums, and even online game play? I wonder if a study is out there that could shed some light on this subject?

How many electronic realms substitute for real communication?

I spend an inordinate amount of time on the computer. My work unfolds as the delicate clatter of keys mark time. In the not to distant past my home was a refuge from the constant computer age we live in. I would come home and devote my life to my family, friends and the other electronic demi-god, The Television. Now I rush home devote the necessary time to family, friends and TV then spend the remaining twilight hours lurking the electronic boulevards and byways of cyberspace. I might play a game online (Solcolm III is a Beast). I spend time searching for music (Legal Downloads Only). I diligently search for information on my favorite football team (Da Saints). Sometimes I fire up the ole messenger and wait for my electronic compatriots to join me!

I can’t remember not having a computer at a job in some form or another. I can’t remember life before e-mail. How did we communicate those oh so important thoughts?

I spend time in this realm devoting time to needs that are not real, to a device that will never return my favors. I have developed a cyber community that exists only through my computer. Would these people I share my thoughts and opinions with be my friend in reality? I can never answer that question, I never met an internet person in real life.

Okay there was this one time when chat rooms were the rage and I ended up meeting a internet person in real life, a meeting that lead to some of the wildest shyte I have ever done. Okay maybe twice. Both times were, kinda off the chain, kinda never again, kinda I cant believe its not butter moments. I will not ever go into those stories.(sliding a femur and radial joint back into the closet)

But how real is this internet? Are these relationships with internet people real. In most cases we have never heard them, seen them, smelled them. We communicate through typed word. A typed language that has an ebonics all to its own. Without the electroverse would we still connect?

Do you are I really care across this keyboard, through this screen, or do we just like getting e-mail and knowing other peoples business. Why is it easier to communicate with people we don’t know, is it because we will never really know them. If I get mad at you I can just block your e-mails and ban you from my blog. If you get mad at me you can do the same.

I guess we need to prepare ourselves for what the future is. We are growing our kids with computers; we use them now like our parents used TVs. They are for education, and entertainment. They can absorb an afternoon, and make you forget to do homework.
But at the end of the day, when the power is off, the computer is there but it has no charm. No personality to make us laugh. No attitude to piss us off. At the end of the day we have shared our lives with a pop up screen, and compose/send button.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005


No Soup for you today, comeback tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005


Sex in the morning sex at night,
Sex in the afternoons all right,
But aint a man on Earth that could stay alive withouta…

Shyte Ice Tee hit the nail on the head when he penned that verse. What would life be without the glories of sex?

Problem is sex really aint all that simple. It is one of mans most natural responses but it is mired in so much puesdo philosophical bullshit. Cant a brother just get some!? Damn.

Okay just kidding, but I will tell you this. I think life would be a lot easier if men weren’t captivated by sex and women weren’t in charge of its distribution.

I used to say that if you don’t water your own grass don’t get mad when it dies, and please don’t get mad if it rains. That really works on both sides of the table. When I was in the that World…

SideNote: I hate when people say that. It is so disingenuous. We still live in the same world we just choose to do different things.

I really lived my life with a “got to get some pussy” frame of mind. Yeah I worked and handled my responsibilities but underneath it all I was really trying to get some from some one somewhere.

Before you twist what I am saying let me break my methodology down.
I truly believe that you can get any woman you want:
1. Say the right things
2. In the right way
3. At the right time.

Sounds simple but it isn’t. My method took time and serious listening skills. You cant run in the store hollering “THIS IS A STICKUP GIVE ME YO SHYTE”
You wind up with $29, a video of yo dumb ass on Americas Most Wanted, and a 10-20 year bid.
You got to stake the place out. Find the problem area and work on a good solid plan. Find the safe in the back, rob the store before deposit day, and make sure no one else knows about your plan. That way you end up in the Bahamas.

You used to have to work to get some. My slow jam tape had to be perfect, it always started with Tender Ronnie, and ended with Moments in Love. If you don’t know you better ask somebody. I am interested to know if those slow jam tapes worked?

You had to bring something to the table. I thought all you needed was clothes and a personality. I always strove to be cool. Then I realized that girls really want the dude with the car. Then I moved on to the apartment being the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Sometimes the prior suffered for the latter, but such is such.

I longed for the day when if two people liked each other, connected, they could freely have sex. No boyfriend girlfriend drama. No need to meet the family lets just f%ck!
Now quite as it is kept, I know a lot of you was secretly sexually active and freaky with yours. Yeah…I am talking to you!

But now the world is on its ear. Who would have believed that in the days of Aids sex flows from the mouth of babes like a fountain. We are living in some sort of new sexual revolution. Women are as open as men about there sexuality. It is really kinda refreshing...I think???.

But alas this new sexual freedom potion with the power to make women drop them drawers is lost on my generation. I grew up during the Aids epidemic. I grew up when girls in High school didn’t have sex, much less middle school. Hey, I knew some were but it was not like talking bout.

I remember fingering a girl was reason enough not to wash your hand for a couple of days. Now these kids having orgies and gangbangs. I grew up during a time when blow jobs were tabu. Go figure that one out. I would have said oral sex, but every brother knows that he was eating pussy long before he was hittin it. That was just "settin the table". Still if a brother asked, you denied while puling pubic hairs from your teeth. (YEOW...GROSS)
I grew up when people were just coming out of the closet now they flipping out, swinging out, jumping out grabbing six others and jumping back in.

Maybe a sexual revolution isn’t what we needed. Maybe a responsibility revolution would have hit the spot.
Maybe sex shouldn’t be the focus of so many lazy minds. Maybe it aint okay to be open about your sexuality.

Sex in the morning, sex at night! (With the same partner of the opposite sex)
Sex in the afternoons alright. (See above)
But aint a man on Earth that could stay alive withouta…
SEX DRIVE (See above in conjunction with the proper use of condoms, and a thorough review of all local state and federal laws and statutes, cause that sex can kill ya, put in jail, make you broke.....)

Monday, November 14, 2005

On to the next.

Trying to wrap my finger around a little issue that is unfolding in my home.

To set the background:
I am a 32 year old, recently re-marred father of two. One child is product of a former wife; the other is of my present union. Both children live with me. I am a professional, and work professional hours. I have high expectations from women and a low tolerance for suspect behavior (aka foolishness).
Want more read some past blogs that’s all I have for now!

More to the point, I have realized that my wife hates me. I don’t know when it started but I am catching on quickly, I am not her favorite person. I think it started sometime soon after the new baby was born.

Okay if you don’t believe me I will give you a few examples.

Yesterday, I am watching the Falcons loose to the Packers. NFL games are about 3 hrs long and this one was headed into the second hour. I’m munching on some Doritos, and drinking a beer when I feel an icy chill over my left side. I turn quickly to my right and barely register the glance…no, more of a stare from my wife. She is sitting breastfeeding the baby, her hair dishevel, her clothes frumpy, I turn and face her directly and ask what’s wrong?

SideNote: Every cat in here can attest to the next five minutes of conversation.
“What’s wrong?”
You sure?
“Yeah, finish watching the game!”
“Okay, but what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing, I am fine!”
This conversation can only in three ways:
1. If This goes on for five minutes you are in the clear, go back to watching the game, are to the Playstation 2, or too your nap.

2. If it stops abruptly, you have screwed up, watch the rest of the game or finish whatever you are doing, and beg to be forgiven later at the moment you choose.
3.IF she starts talking…you are screwed, now you cant even finish the game.

Of course she said nothing but I insisted and still got nothing.

But the look spoke a thousand words. She might want me dead.
Okay, she does want me dead. My problem is I don’t know why.

Three nights ago, I was stirred from why restful slumber by the icy stare. I sluggishly opened one eye, the Stare. I closed that one eye quickly. I heard the baby cry for I while, I was too scared to open my eye again. When I finally opened it again I had apparently been snoring for two or three hours… it was morning. She was breastfeeding the baby. I quickly got dressed and went to work.

As soon as I got to work I called to see if everything was okay. She said everything was fine, not to worry.

My wife wants me dead, and I have no idea why.

Last week, when I got home from work, I merely asked what was for dinner. I got the icy stare.

Eight days ago, when I told her the house looked in disarray, I got the icy stare.

I wonder what it is that is going wrong. Maybe taking care of the baby has pushed her to her wits end.

Please watch your local news, pay close attention to the missing persons reports.

IF I turn up missing, well, just keep watch.