CLASSES FOR MEN -- TAUGHT BY WOMEN:

THE LEARNING CENTER FOR ADULTS

REGISTRATION MUST BE COMPLETED BY Tuesday, Mar. 31, 2006
NOTE: DUE TO THE COMPLEXITY AND DIFFICULTY LEVEL
OF THEIR CONTENTS, CLASS SIZES WILL BE LIMITED TO 8 PARTICIPANTS MAXIMUM.

Class 1
How To Fill Up The Ice Cube Trays --- Step by Step, with Slide Presentation.
Meets 4 weeks, Monday and Wednesday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM.

Class 2
The Toilet Paper Roll --- Does It Change Itself?
Round Table Discussion.
Meets 2 weeks, Saturday 12:00 for 2 hours.

Class 3
Is It Possible To Urinate Using The Technique Of Lifting The Seat and Avoiding The Floor, Walls and Nearby Bathtub? --- Group Practice.
Meets 4 weeks, Saturday 10:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 4
Fundamental Differences Between The Laundry Hamper and The Floor ---
Pictures and Explanatory Graphics.
Meets Saturdays at 2:00 PM for 3 weeks.

Class 5
After Dinner Dishes --- Can They Levitate and Fly Into The Kitchen Sink?
Examples on Video.
Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM

Class 6
Loss Of Identity --- Losing The Remote To Your Significant Other.
Help Line Support and Support Groups.
Meets 4 Weeks, Friday and Sunday 7:00 PM

Class 7

Learning How To Find Things --- Starting With Looking In The Right Places And Not Turning The House Upside Down While Screaming.
Open Forum .
Monday at 8:00 PM, 2 hours.

Class 8
Health Watch --- Bringing Her Flowers Is Not Harmful To Your Health.
Graphics and Audio Tapes.
Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 9
Real Men Ask For Directions When Lost --- Real Life Testimonials.
Tuesdays at 6:00 PM Location to be determined.

Class 10
Is It Genetically Impossible To Sit Quietly While She Parallel Parks?
Driving Simulations.
4 weeks, Saturday's noon, 2 hours.

Class 11
Learning to Live --- Basic Differences Between Mother and Wife.
Online Classes and role-playing .
Tuesdays at 7:00 PM, location to be determined

Class 12
How to be the Ideal Shopping Companion
Relaxation Exercises, Meditation and Breathing Techniques.
Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM.

Class 13
How to Fight Cerebral Atrophy --- Remembering Birthdays, Anniversaries and Other Important Dates and Calling When You're Going To Be Late.
Cerebral Shock Therapy Sessions and Full Lobotomies Offered.
Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 14
The Stove/Oven --- What It Is and How It Is Used.
Live Demonstration.
Tuesdays at 6:00 PM, location to be determined.

Upon completion of any of the above courses,
diplomas will be issued to the survivors.



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Ain't nothing goin' on but the rent. What has he done for you lately? SuperWoman. Thanks for my child. Scrubs. Bills,bills,bills. Not gon' cry. I hate you so much right now. This list can go on for days.

All the above songs, and many more are anthems. Women's anthems to be specific. These songs demean men and seem to empower women. They make men out to be the most base and vilest of creatures. If you hear a woman singing one of these songs, and you will hear it. They don't hum these shits! Hit that bitch with a brick! It's time for some new shit. Man anthems.

We have a few. My main man Uncle Sam set it off with his classic hit, I don't ever want to see you again. Unfortunately this song had undertones of him wanting to get back with the girl. We as men were kinda happy, but we needed something else. Several years later, the boys from Ideal put it down. They told bitches in no uncertain terms to get gone! Check the lyrics: 'I think you better leave me alone. Pack your bags. Get the hell on.' That's what I'm talking about. Don't pussyfoot around the shit. Spray the hoe with some Bitch B Gone, and tell her to bounce!

And we need to take this to other arenas too. Books for instance. Terry McMillan has been kicking our collective asses with her book Waiting to Exhale. Fuck that! Are you telling me that one of our brothers can't write a book called Breath Bitch? What about how Stella Got Her Groove Back? Do you know how she got it? She went to Jamaica and fucked a new man. Therein is the crux of the problem. They need us. Take advantage of that. Use it!

We don't need women! We have a multibillion dollar industry that caters to our every whim. It's called PORN! Get some. Your girl won't let you stick it in her butt? Go buy one! Why not? Girl won't give you head? They have things that will! We as men can and will invent shit to take the place of disease called woman. A nice side effect is that we'll all have incredible hand-eye coordination! (holla if you hear me) My eyesight is so good I can see to tomorrow! Why? Because I beat my shit like it owes me money! I beat it like a runaway slave! I beat my shit so much, I have a restraining order against myself! If I use the wrong hand to pee, an alarm goes off at the local police station. For real!

So let's stop all this man hatin' bullshit! We run shit. The only reason women even exist is because sheep can't cook! Believe that!

By the way... any men who feel empowered by this shit and get your ass beat by your woman for employing anything contained in this post, that's your dumb-assed fault! I just write this shit! I never said I lived it!

TheBigOne

I just realized something. I exemplify the words prime real estate! Not only am I a man with a job, his own apartment, and sexy than a motherfucker. I'm a black man with a job, his own apartment, who loves his children, and is still sexy than a motherfucker! (HOLLA) It took me a while to realize these simple facts. Here's how it went down:

The 28th was my ex-girlfriend's birthday. I missed my window of opportunity to spend time with her because I was working. No one's fault. That's how it happened. I did call. SHE said it was too late. Cool! Today being the 30th, I wanted to take her out somewhere nice and give her her birthday gift. I get to where she was at, and she proceeds to tell me that she'll go, but she doesn't think it's a good idea. 'For real?' I hit the accelerator and I'm out. A little miffed about the whole deal, I call her. I get the answering machine. Are you kidding me? I put her on blast and said what I had to say, which was basically this: 'I'm not sweating you anymore. I'm done with that. I wanted to have a good time with you, and give you your gift. No harm, no foul.'

Now I know a few days ago I was nothing like that. But then it hit me. Did you ever sit on the bowl to handle business, and when you drop the littlest Cosby off at the pool he does a cannon ball and that little drop of water goes straight up your anus? (graphic, I know) You know how that one drop of water makes your whole ass pucker and your eyes simultaneously pop open? That's what happened. My eyes were opened. Do you know what I saw? I saw me! I am a beautiful motherfucker! Sure, I have a big gut. So what! Under that gut is some of the best dick on the planet! If you don't believe me, ask your momma! (holla) But I'm working on that. I'm going to the gym. I'm working it out!

I have selfworth! So no matter what you bastards out there say. (to quote our negro spiritual leader Jessie Jackson) I am somebody! And anyone who doesn't like it can drink a ball juice cocktail that I will gladly supply! I'm out this bitch!

TheBigOne

I'm so confused. We've been broken up for a few days now, but it seems like nothing's changed. I still see her everyday. She still kisses me. She still tells me she loves me. I don't get it. Do you mean to tell me that if I was doing all the things I'm doing now, she would still be there? I'm not sure. I'm not doing these things to get her back. At least that's what I'm telling myself. But strangely enough, doing these things just might get her back. It's weird. I kind of like what we have now, but dayum do I miss the physical! There's something I need to tell her, and that seems to be the only way I can think of to tell her. You gotta feel me on this one. Two bodies entertwined can say things that can only be understood by each other. In a million years, you will never be able to SPEAK what making love can SAY. Believe that. I'm going to stop talking about this. I don't want to lose my faithful readers by boring them to death. I promise, my next post won't have anything to do with it. Until then, I'm out.

TheBigOne

Everything everywhere has a specific gravity. Even things which have no distinct dimensions have gravity, such as situations. Most of us think of weight when we discuss gravity, so that's how I'll use it in this post.

We all know what I'm going through at the moment. Thanks for all the heartfelt sympathy. You, my invisible friends, have been more help to me than some of my 'real' everyday associates. Even savannahsmiles, whom I thought would take cheap shots at me has been nice. Adversity can make for some strange bedfellows! Enough. Thanks to all.

I got called in to work today a bit early. When I got there, everyone was there. By everyone, I mean all the independent contractors that work for the company were in attendance. It was fairly odd. I assumed we were having a meeting. Strangely enough I was right. I wish I wasn't. The meeting was about me. More specifically, it was about my voicemail message. Instead of the boring voice in a can that comes stock with most phones, I opted to pay for something different. My voicemail features the voice of Lil John screaming something about leaving a message. During the screaming he has to be bleeped out several times for unsavory language. Whatever. It's my phone. I've had this message for a while now. But they want me to change it because it offended the owner's daughter. Apparantly she was trying to call me and got my voicemail and was upset by it. Is that my fault? Because her frail sense of aural correctness was assaulted I have to change my shit? Yeah right. I'll get right on that. My stance on the subject being made, I was prepared to fight for it. But then it happened. They hit me where it hurt. Someone noticed that I was using a Motorola i210. 'Didn't you used to have an i730?' Yes I did. It fell in the toilet and doesn't work anymore. Well... (here it comes) We'll give you one for $25 dollars; if you change your message! Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! They got me. I'm so vain, I went for the deal. Now that I'm single I have to show some style you know?

Did I sell out? Hell yes! But I don't care. I'm going to once again have a phat phone to use. If you've ever checked, this damned phone goes for over $300.00 To save $275.00 I'll sellout again!

But that's the thing with the gravity. I was feeling mad pressure being accosted in front of my peers. I was also feeling pressure about having to conform to what the corporate world wants vs. how I choose to express myself. I felt like one of those people in the movie scanners. I felt like my head was about to explode from the pressure. But it didn't. And I'm going to have a nice phone again. I hope it has a belt clip too!

Anyhoo.... When gravity starts to pull you down, just pretend you're on the moon. Peace.

TheBigOne