Today was an odd day. I got enough sleep. That's a huge thing with me because it hardly ever happens. Usually, when I'm right in the middle of good sleep it get interrupted. You know the sleep I'm talking about. That sleep you get when there's noone in the house, all the things in your house that could make noise aren't. That good but nekked lay in the middle of the bed sleep. I actually got that today. Usually Auti will call me for no appearant reason and make me want to kill her. It's not that she doesn't have a reason to her. It's just, at this particular moment, if it doesn't have something to do with evacuating the city, it's not important. Anyhoo, she didn't call, Godzilla didn't try to overrun my block, not even any Jehova's Witnessess came calling. I think they do sometimes because they know I answer the door in my undies. I have never had male Jehova's Witnessess come to the house. Odd... All in all it was a good day. Then the phone rang....

I hate my phone. It can bring me joy, but it usually only serves to annoy me. I have a prepaid nextel phone. It's one of the cool ones that cost way too much and don't do enough. I happen to like the phone. What I don't like is the plan. I don't like getting bills, so I go prepaid. No other reason. But since I pay for my calls, incoming and outgoing, I tend to be a bit selective with who I answer for. Unknown name or number? Ignore. 800 number? Ignore. Baby's mama? Depends. My theory is easy. I put all the available information into my phone book that I possibly can. If you know me, I know you know me and I'll answer the phone. No matter how much I don't want to. (Auti) I prefer that you two-way me. That's why I got the phone. Instant communication. But some people don't have the two-way function yet, so at times I get annoyed.

Did I mention that I pay 25 cent and minute for people to annoy me? Unless you can talk as fast as Pac-Fu, Twista, or any elite auction barker, don't call me. At 25 cent a minute I don't even want to talk to my mama! can you feel me? And what's up with all these plans out there? We'll give you 200 anytime/daytime minutes and 9 million evening and weekend minutes... Who came up with this brilliant shit? Most people I know are at home at 9 and don't want to be bothered. People historically use the phone more during the day. Duh! If you want to impress me, and get some of my hard earned cash, change the plan around stupid! IF your network was so good, it should be able to handle real daytime traffic!

I have a friend that calls everyday just to say "what's up?" I hate this mother fucker! For real. And he knows it. His next question is usually something even more brilliant like, 'what 'cha doin'?'. I'm sleeping you asshole. Same thing I was doing every other day at 9 in the morning you prick. 'oh yeah'. Are you kidding me? To all people like that, we should regress your communication options. Instead of wasting my time and money, why don't you try these options. Drums. they can be heard for mile around. Smoke signals. Again, a good long distance option. Snail mail. You don't have anything worth saying that needs immediacy anyway. Who cares if it takes a few days to get there?

So stop bothering people like myself with your petty annoyances. Auti, you know the routine, just come over. Do it today. I'll find out what the times to avoid are. Holla. As for everyone else, get a life!

Here I am again at stupid o'clock in the morning again sitting in front of the computer. I really have to stop trying to blog at this hour. I'm known to be a little controversial in my writing, but now is not the time. @ 5 in the morning, there is no filter between my brain and my fingers. I tend to type what I think, and that could be dangerous. Not that I have bad things to say. I have really stupid things to say. I want to download this song called fishheads. I don't know who sings it, but one of the verses went like this. "I took a fishhead out to see a movie, didn't have to pay to get it in." Weird I know. But I'm all about it right now.

Even worse. I fall asleep at the monitor. That really sucks. I tend to have these really vivid dreams. I don't know why. Ultimately, I end up falling out of the computer chair and waking up my sweetheart. It used to bother her that I stayed up this late. But now that the job makes me stay this late, she's kinda cool. I still get the 'I miss you's', and I wish you were here to hold me's, but then she remembers the checks and tells me to stay as long as i have to.

I would love to write some more, but I'm out of steam. Too much driving tonight. I did about 100 miles round trip today, before I got home for lunch. While eating, dispatch called me to go to New York. I love the trip. It pays like 108 dollars to make the trip. But the return trip is too long. It's like 200 miles and change. I know it sounds like I'm being a little girl about it, but 300 some odd miles in one day sucks.

I'm rambling. i'm out of here. I'll post when I wake up. Promise. Auti, if you're reading this, come on over when you get out. It's unlocked.

I've decided that I hate everyone who can manipulate this blogscreen. I've read how to do it, I've tried to do it, I've failed. I dislike failure. I haven't given up yet, but as I look to a few people's blogs I get jealous. Jealousy is another emotion I dislike. There's no real need for it, except maybe as a motivator. I guess Envy would be a better word for what I feel, but to quote our negro poet Slick Rick: "Jealousy and envy are dumb one's tools." I will not succumb to these feelings. I shall overcome.

I was deeply upset today. As I have told you all before, I'm a courier. I carry all types of things to all kinds of places for all kinds of people. I enjoy my work and look forward to my phone ringing, signifying more work. I consider myself fairly well at what I do. I really enjoy meeting people and having mild polite conversation with them. But alas, there's always one...

I've been letting my hair grow lately. I generally keep it low for ease of maintainence purposes. At the moment I've got about 6 weeks of growth. Being that it's Sunday and I usually don't work on Sunday's I was dressed rather casually in a sweatsuit. It had no emblems, no lettering, and I doubt I was wearing any gang colors. I did have on boots, but it is winter out here. That's me. Now let me set the scene.

It's mid-day. I'm on the outskirts of the state. Lots of trees, land, and people with more money than brains. After driving about 130 miles on a quarter tank, I decided to get some petrol. The car likes it, and it gives me a feeling of security knowing I'll be able to get home. I pay the cashier with no incident and go to pump my gas. I happen to notice that there was an elderly person having trouble doing the same. Being the nice person I am, I attempt to help. As I walk to the woman, she freaks out! She screams at me to leave her alone, clutches her purse to her chest and runs to the store. WTF? Okay. I'm easy. I finish what I'm doing and bounce.

About 3-6 minutes down the road I see it coming. I didn't think it was for me, but I was wrong. Flashing red and blue LED's and a finger pointing at me to pull over. I've already forgotten about the gas station incident, so I'm totally dumbfounded as to why I'm being harrassed by Officer Unfriendly. I pull over, put on my game face and prepare for the worst. After the usual license and registration b.s. Unfriendly asks me do I know why I'm being pulled over. Resisting all temptation to crack wise, I answer honestly and tell him no. He tells me that the clerk at the gas station called 911 when I pulled out. It seems that the old biddy says I tried to rob her. Are you kidding me? If that was my intention, she would have been robbed! I was fuming. Now I'm going to the embarrasment of having my vehicle searched and trying to explain that I've got Nuclear Medicine on ice that has to be delivered soon or it's someone's behind. Instead of doing the right thing and giving me an escort to the medical facility I was going to, he decides to call it in and handcuff me in the process. Shit is about to hit the fan....

Officer Shit for Brains takes it upon himself to open my cooler containing the afforementioned Nuclear Medicine. Did I mention Nuclear? After searching the cooler and finding the box the meds were in, he opens the box too. I'm seeing my career dissolve before me. He calls somewhere, GOD only knows where, then it gets interesting. Moments later, and I do mean moments, a State Trooper arrives on the scene. He immediately lets me out of the cuffs and tells me to stay behind him. His actual words were, "I want you inches off my bumper. If I fart, you better smell it." I shit you not, you cannot make this stuff up. With the cooler back in my car, we proceed to go as fast as my Honda Civic has ever been driven. He escorted me to the Hospital and made sure the delivery was completed. Some patient owes this man a huge thankyou.

I call my company and give them the lowdown. My boss vouches for my character and tells the Statie that I'm not the type to muscle old ladies for their purses. This seemed to satisfy him, so he let me go and told me to be careful while leaving town because a certain officer may have some hurt feelings and significantly less ass. I do as he says and do less than the speed limit until I get to the nearest highway.

While reflecting on the events of the past hour, something my father told me a long time ago, shot itself to the forefront of my memory. He told me this: 'When the white man sees you, he doesn't see Shane. All he sees is black. He sees a threat. What you have to do is educate yourself. The last thing a white man wants to see is an educated young black man. Now you're twice the threat.' Don't get me wrong, my dad's no militant black panther type dude. Hell, he's portugese! He's as white as the day is long. But he always wanted me to know who I was, and how I was percieved. I've tried to emulate most of his lessons. Being that I was brought up in one of the most liberal states in the USA, that was one lesson I never thought I would really need. Decades later, I'm proven wrong... How sad.

I'm Shane. Before I'm black, before I'm man, I'm human. Just like you. You don't threaten me...

Hello my peeps. I was thinking last night. (something I try not to do too often) I was thinking about stripping. As a man, I'm sick and tired of trying to live up to America's standards of what beauty is. I weigh 355 pounds. And you know what? I'm a sexy mother-fucker! Not because my girl says so. (her opinion is biased. she wants those checks to keep coming in) Not because other women constantly tell me so. Believe it or not, they do. I'm sexy because I say so. Hell, I even have my stage name all picked out. S.L.A.M. Sexy Like A Mother-fucker! Holla if you hear me!

There's all types of people out there. The way I figure it, someone out there is going to want to see my fat ass nekked. Not all women llke that guy with the bulging muscles and washboard stomach. Well, they might like to look at him, but that's not neccesarily what they want to go home with. Well, they might like to do that too, but this isn't about them, it's about me.

Skinny people have had it too easy too long. And those bastards seem not to be too picky. They like to eat from both sides of the plate. You'll see a skinny dude with skinny women and big girls. I hate that shit. As a big man, little women don't just naturally gravitate to me. No. They have to get to know me first. Once they do, the weight seems to shed. They no longer see that. They see the real me, the inner me. Bullshit! It's just that I exude so much confidence that they're overwhelmed by it. And I preach the gospel of the big man everywhere I go. Why settle for steak-umms when you can have steak?

Personally, I feel that skinny people are on the way out. Have you ever seen a fat crack head? Nope. Most people with STD's, skinny! You hardly ever hear about big dudes dogging women either.

I'm not done with this, but I have to go now.

So the story goes: Men are from Mars. Women are from Venus. Cool. But does anyone know where women's brains are from? If you know some of the women in my life, you would swear their brains are from Uranus. Why? Because their thought process is so shitty!

I expect to get some backlash for this, so bring it if you must. You know I'm right. I'm not saying it's your fault. Maybe you had some bad, or no upbringing. Maybe you were taught to lean on or depend on a man. Or maybe, just maybe, you're really as dumb as you act.

I come from a family of strong women. My mother has done jobs that were traditionally held by men all my life. Not only did she do them, she was better at it than they were. My grandmother. She is the rock of the family. If she ever needed help, you would never know it. My sister, dayum, there's a strong woman. She gets pregnant in her senior year of high school. Then she carries the baby through her first year in college. She gives birth, goes back to college, enters the Army, finishes both, and comes back to take care of myself, my father, and her child. (holla!) So when I see a woman looking all distressed because her tire went flat and she doesn't know how to use a jack to put on her spare, I pray to GOD that she gets splashed by an oncoming truck or something.

I hate it when a woman acts like she can't go through life without a man. It pisses me off to the highest point of pissivity! (yes I know that's not a real word. shut up!) I don't need you to help me do anything. I know how to cook & clean. I do my own laundry. I can dress myself very well. And I don't need you for sex either. I learned to love myself long before I learned to love a woman. (that means I masturbate like a madman) So understand why I get mad when a woman says she needs a man. Get a grip!

I hate a woman who needs me. I don't need you. I can do bad all by my lonely. That's why I don't fall in love. I refuse to. I grow to love. The idea of falling seems to denote something bad. Why mix something bad with even the idea of love. If you grow to love someone, there's less of a chance that you'll end up in a bad situation.

And when you women fall, you fall hard. You try to change that man into the man you want him to be. If he wasn't shit when you met him, what makes you think he'll be shit now? Just because you get his hair cut, put some clothes on his back, and give him a breath mint, doesn't mean you changed him. Once a dog, always a dog. The trick is, find a good man. Wait for a while. Close your legs and open your eyes. Look for the man that goes to the bank every week. More than likely, he has a regular job. Look at his car. Not just the brand. Look at how he keeps it. Men will usually take care of his woman as well as he takes care of his car. Why? Because you're both reflections of him. When people see my car, i want them to see class & distinction, not just curves. When you see my car, it's clean, and well maintained, like my woman. This doesn't mean spoiled and pampered. That's all good, and has it's place, but enough is enough.

Think on these few things. I'm going to let you get back to me on this one. Try to impress me...

(my ass is so kicked!)