06.28.08
Sloppy Saturday. Kiss Me, I’m Black.
It’s a gloomy and sloppy Saturday in Boston. Television programming is at an all-time low. Nothing is on, except a cheesy sci-fi channel movie, baseball, and golf. All three options are too slow to keep my attention. I just ordered chinese food, the General. If you don’t know about the General, I’d suggest you seek it out…unless you’re a vegetarian. The batch I just consumed doesn’t go on my top 5 list. I’m actually somewhat disappointed. At least it will last 2 meals.
The day has passed me by and I feel like the weekend is almost over and it’s still Saturday. My biggest accomplishment today? I called Comcast to tell them to turn off my digital voice/phone service. I initially signed up for the triple play package. The one where you get cable, phone, and internet for $99/month. That was great, except for the fact it was a one year special. I happened to be looking at my bill and noticed that it shot up 35 dollars because the special was over and I was being charged individually for each part. That’s how they always get you. They assume that after a few months you will forget, and when the special pricing goes away you won’t notice for a few months because you don’t keep track of your finances. The same applies to subscriptions, trial offers, and gym memberships. All three make me extremely salty. All three have hurt my feelings in the past, and I refuse to be hurt again.
Unfortunately, I don’t have anything of epic proportions to discuss today. I’m not depressed, discouraged, saddened, or heartbroken. I’m just a little tired. Special shout out to the Edgar Allan Poe weather. Once upon a mid day dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, I decided that it was time to end this blog. Laundry awaits. Must seek quarters in this fog…The End.
06.26.08
Pulling Out of Abstinence Programs…
The road to wasted tax payer dollars is paved with good intentions. One good intention that has floundered and fizzled for years is the government funded state to state abstinence program. I was reading a subway newspaper the other day, where they described how several states have “pulled out” of the program. It also appears that several states “stayed in it” just to get the funding, which was sometimes used partially for other purposes. Even now, that’s not enough to keep them interested.
Bush claims that the nationwide abstinence programs have reduced the number of teens that are engaging in Coitus (pronounced sex). How can someone even prove that? Surveys? Focus groups? Truth serum jabbed into the arm, while a stun gun is administered to the inner thigh? All jokes aside, at least for the rest of this paragraph, does he really think all teens are telling the truth about whether they have shared their goods with someone else or kept them safely tucked away behind a chastity belt?(Note: Males are more likely to lie and say they have had sex when they haven’t, which also skews the numbers. Masculinity requires extreme face saving measures.)
AIDS and death aren’t even enough to scare people away from sex. Telling kids they will go to hell for it only means they are more likely to do it, especially when they get some liberation. We all know someone who lived a sheltered life, got away from home, then rebelled and lost control of him or herself. I know a few people that fit the bill on this one..that shall remain nameless until they anger me and force me to react immaturely on the Internet.
Yet still, Bush and the far right conservatives will claim that the programs are working. Perhaps it is working in rural towns where it takes too much effort to scurry miles down a dirt road to get it poppin’ in a barn on a bail of hay. Maybe even in some of the more affluent suburbs, where spending money can cause the same exhilaration. But I strongly doubt the programs have done anything for the inner city urban areas. Then again, they haven’t done anything in fishing industry towns like Gloucester, MA.
To wrap it up, peeps just need to wrap it up. Even if some should happen to make it through high school without pumping or being pumped, college is 4 years of heavy temptations with at least a year being packed in a dorm with “love hungry” members of the opposite sex. And for that matter, who said everyone will go to college? That’s a whole different blog entry…
06.25.08
Kobe, Tell Me How My Ass Tastes?
Though I wish I could have gotten to this post earlier, I gotta take some time to reflect on the Shaq freestyle relating to Kobe Bryant. After I picked myself up off the floor and wiped the tears of laughter from my face, I was both amazed and disappointed at the same time. I scoured the internet for news stories and commentary and found out that Shaq lost his Sheriff badges for spitting that…garbage.
Yes, this was one of the worst freestyles ever. However, it is one of the funniest things I’ve seen Shaq do in a long time. You gotta love the big guy. He can say and do what he wants. He’s a 7 foot tall machine with enough money to make people “taste his ass” if he really wanted (yuck). Shaq’s biggest mistake in this freestyle was dropping the notorious endearing version of the N word, meant only to be used by people who look like me. You’ll never see the word in one of my blogs, I don’t wanna give people the wrong idea. After all, I am an articulate black guy. Nonetheless, it’s quite humorous and borderline ironic that he would lose his sheriff badges for making “racial slurs”. I suppose if we are to employ equal treatment, he must be admonished for his actions. After all, if this was a white person it would have been extremely ugly. I think we are still recovering from Kramer’s outburst at the comedy club. *shutters*
“Kobe, tell me how my ass taste” should have been followed with “pause”
Perhaps the best line of the whole thing. An excellent hook that is better sung by Paul Pierce, Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen, or any other member of the Boston Celtics. Regardless of who says it, it’s funny. He really kicked the man while he was down. This still falls way beneath that which 50 cent did to Young Buck (See my other entry). But moving on, Shaq then proceeded to unleash the bitterness that has been brewing within in regard to Kobe dropping dime and shedding light on the obvious fact that he has been sliding off on wifeykins. Superhead (Karrine Steffans) even mentioned that Shaq was quite the sweaty individual in the sheets. All Kobe did was confirm whatever 95% of realistic people already knew about his affinity for women. But damn Shaq, can we get a pause on the ass tasting comment?
Hip Hop continues to make headlines, if you wanna call this hip hop related. For the purpose of categorizing my blog entries, I will refer to it as that. On a positive note though, nobody has gotten shot, stabbed, shanked, choked, swiss cheesed, or hit with a blunt object…yet. Then again, I don’t even know if this is considered a beef. The media has to spin stories like this to keep us entertained. Besides, who wants to hear that SARS has made it’s way back to the United States anyway?
06.24.08
The Last Stand, by Seattle Washington
Introducing the writing of another articulate black guy to my readership…hopefully you will appreciate his perspective and candidness. Don’t get your feelings hurts.-Slim Jackson
The Last Stand, by Seattle Washington
For some of us it is fast approaching, for some of us it is here and for some of us it’s already too late. Some of us have been chasing it down since birth, others avoiding it like it was death itself. And now people are arguing for the right to do it just as much as people argue over when to do it. What am I talking about?
Marriage.
It’s a widely known practice that’s about as puzzling as my intro. No one quite knows what to do once you get into it, but they damn sure know how they feel about it. Me? Like many men I’m conflicted. On one hand, it’s tough enough being a boyfriend. I consistently take a beating, my freedom is slipping away and I’m losing my mind because I have more pussy (cat) thrown at me now than when I was single. Honestly ladies, it’s like those damn AXE body spray commercials. On the other hand, I don’t want to be that old dude in the club. And no matter what any dude tells you, that’s always in the back of his mind.
That thought was reinforced this past weekend when I saw one in full action. A sixty-year old white man was chillin at a lounge I frequent dressed in slacks and a striped button down. Unfortunately for me he decided he wasn’t going to button the appropriate amount of buttons, so his aged taco meat was showing as well as his tight ass gold chain. And I don’t mean tight like it was hot. No no no. I mean tight as in it was going to pop off and fly in someone’s drink if he turned his head too quickly. On top of all that, he was accompanied by a thirty something year old Asian woman who was an escort. Just to clarify, I’m not hating. I’ve seen a sugar daddy in action, shit it’s still a back up plan of mine, but this was far from it. She was definitely an escort. He was paying for the pum pum. And that’s not good in my book.
So, what am I left to do? I’m far from ready to settle down, put up the white picket fence, have a few golden retrievers running around the yard and be tackled by some kids calling me daddy. Shit I’m still thankful, yes thankful; I didn’t have any calls on Fathers’ Day. (Shout out to the Black Men doing their thing though! What up Pops!!!) But my lady, like many others, has a biological clock and now that it has started ringing somehow I need to wake up. So far I’ve been successful in treating it like any other clock. I’ve hit the snooze, rolled over, put the pillow over my head and gone back into blissful sleep. But that isn’t going to last very long. I’m going to have to get up and face that new day when it’s “we”, not “me”, when I have a miniature billboard on my ring finger announcing my status and the only alone time I will ever have will be when I’m at work and when I take a shit.
I’m not ready for that. I like my freedom. Shit my ancestors fought for it for years! I’m not ready for the last stand. But what other choice do I have? The Washington name, and good looks for that matter, needs to carry on. I guess all I can do is go out on my terms. At least that’s what I’ll tell myself.
And as I write this, my girlfriend calls. I swear you girls have a 6th sense… To be continued, hopefully.
Who in the hell is Seattle Washington?
Seattle Washington is a young Chocolate brother in a Milky world, fighting his way to the top. He plays the game like Jordan and Pippen in their primes and only bags the finest dimes. Keep a look out for future entries from Mr. Washington.
06.22.08
Male Rappers Sometimes Have Too Much Estrogen
Over the last few months, there has been a lot of soap opera stuff going on in the wonderful world of music, particularly the hip hop world. Now before people who are “true fans” start buzzing and saying “This dude Slim don’t know what he talkin’ about, where’s the credibility?”, I don’t claim to be an industry critic or anything remotely close. However, I am truly humored when I see something play out the way that this 50 Cent and Young Buck situation has. I recently heard the leaked tape where Buck was crying and asking to be let back into G-Unit. I also heard the diss track that Buck put out shortly after 50 released that taped conversation to the world.
Their situation is no worse than that of what we see on Facebook or Instant Messenger. One person lashes out publicly in an away message or status, another person retaliates, then someone takes it to the next level, then someone gets angry and takes it even further. Then everybody is checking their newsfeed to see the latest updates. In this particular “childish” situation, Young Buck ultimately loses out. When I see his picture on the internet, I pity the man. He suddenly looks a lot more vulnerable and emotional, almost as if he needs to be held (pause). Had he not went on stage at a show, hopefully under the influence of drugs, dissing 50 and everybody he is associated with, he may have been spared the public humiliation. The man seriously sounded like he was preparing to use “sanitary products” within a few days.
Buck’s diss track of 50 sounds more like a last ditch effort to save his career. He basically parallels 50 to a snitch and b*tch for recording the conversation, and to some level I agree…more so because he released the tape publicly. This man often reminds me of a little kid, or a vicious school girl. 50 is a Mean Girl. He’s always starting trouble, and always trying to embarrass the hell out of somebody. He can dispose of friends at will and pick up new ones at the same rate. I mean the man records every conversation, partially so he can embarrass someone need be necessary. How proactive can you be? It’s like saving AIM conversations and emailing them to yourself in case the other person ever pushes you over the edge. Yes, I’ve done it. You have too! It’s humorous though, with all their gun talk, that this is how they choose to handle their situation. I think they both have a bit more estrogen that the average man. Hair dryers don’t count as guns fellas. Can’t we just all get along?
06.20.08
From Race to Personality Assumptions
There are a lot of misconceptions about people out there. Given yesterday’s “racially charged” entry, I’ve decided to go in a different direction today to stress “love and appreciation”…well, not really. If you read the tagline of this blog, it references being introverted. People draw many a false conclusion (fundamental attribution error) about “us”. We lack communication skills. We’re assholes, jerks, snobs, unibombers, etc. I’ve weathered the storm for years, and figured I would provide a bit of education to those who make the assumptions. But before I get to that, I will explain how I got to this topic in the first place.
Last night I was out with a friend of mine and some of his co-workers. He (trying to keep the friend anonymous) invited me to come along to a cook out that his company was invited to. The friend is in the cupcake baking industry, and the bbq was put on by a local production company that they have worked with in the past (He doesn’t really work for a cupcake baking company). In an effort to not be exposed, I had to come up with a story for who I was and why I was there. Fortunately, he is a good friend and did all the talking for me. I made sure to keep food and drink at my face whenever someone came over as to appear unable to talk. I also had shades on, which made me look slightly unapproachable. Had anyone asked about the shades in the evening, I simply would have said “allergies”.
I noticed the type of personality it takes to be in either of those industries, or even in my industry for that matter. Everybody was extremely social and talkative. One older woman was uncomfortably social, as I can only imagine the type of scenarios she was in during her younger days. She is probably related to Debbie who did Dallas.
But as I observed all the dialogue and energy, I stood quietly and comfortably chillin’. Not just because I didn’t want to be exposed as a perpetrator, but also because of my natural demeanor in an unfamiliar environment. Later in the night, I was reminded of my introverted personality again when I was told I couldn’t get into a “grown and sexy” function because of my crisp, but white shoes. It’s funny though, because I probably make more money and have a better job than the poser who was working the door.
Rather than fight to get in, I was comfortable chilling outside for a bit and engaging in casual chitter chatter with people that came up to me.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure what type of person you would be because you seem so quiet right now compared to everybody else.”- What a surprise that I heard a comment like this. The story of my life. Great.
It probably worked out better that I couldn’t get in. It was 1030 at night, I had been on the phone all day, and I was at my second social function. My energy was low, and I remembered again…I’m definitely an introvert. So when I got home, I happened to be randomly googling and came across a pretty good psych write up that explains how “we” tick. I was going to just post it, but I figured that would be copyright infringement and I would get booted from this site and lose all my valuable entries. Check out the link below. I promise, it isn’t a password phisher or link to a sketchy website. I would never hurt you. I love you. (Pause and Just Kidding. )
Boston Is Pizzling. Garnett Has a Foul Mouth.
This morning I woke up late as usual. I wake up late so often that I’m starting to think late is the new on-time. Then again, CPT has already been established. It’s a cultural thing. Anyway, the Celtics are the new NBA champions. I considered going out last night to engage in the debauchery, but quickly realized I wouldn’t be able to explain the pepper spray remnants in my eyes, or why I’m calling my boss from a pay phone in jail. Or even worse, calling a close friend or family member from some obscure location saying “help me please.” But given my work out regimen as of recent, I’m sure I would have been able to flip over a few cars without too much strain, or body a couple of race-driven neanderthals.
But I digress….
While watching the Celtics dismantle, destroy, obliterate, romp, ass rape, massacre, pummel, and beat the Lakers, I realized why professional athletes are compensated so much. If I was playing and my team lost by 40 points in the last game of the series on national and international TV, I’d need a large sum of cash to heal the wounds. That’s not the type of history I would ever want make. Even dealing with the game to game criticism as a professional hooper can be a bit much on the mental and physical.
Awkward transition…Kevin Garnett has a really foul mouth. Everytime the camera shows him in the game or on the sideline talking, he always has to be bleeped or silenced out. Even when he was getting interviewed after the game, it appeared he was raining expletives onto the much smaller and helpless female interviewer. I’m pretty sure I even heard him use an endearing word limited to a particular cultural segment. I guess they missed bleeping that out because they were so used to bleeping out the F and Mf bombs. Nonetheless, I could rock with KG. Though he intimidates many, I’m sure after a blunt or round of drinks that he suddenly becomes a 6′1 regular black guy just like me. But of course, Slim Jackson does not condone the usage of any illegal substances, unless you can get them out of your system within 24 to 48 hours…
06.17.08
Touch It Why Dontcha?
Being that 90 percent of my blog entries are written on the train, I figured I’d address this one particular serious Mass transit advertising campaign that actually works out to be kinda funny. In the process of describing this, I will offend a few people. I’m sorry. Honestly. I am.
Boston’s public transit system has experienced a rise in incidents of groping. Yes, sketchy men (and occasionally women) touching buttcheeks and other parts of the female (or male) anatomy in crowded areas. Sounds horrible right? Yes. I agree. I’m pretty sure I’ve felt a hand brush against my left cheek. I can only hope and pray that it wasn’t a male making me the object of his fantasy. Either way, violation is violation.
I’m laughing because of the signs they have put up to deter these transit criminals. To complement the increase in cameras, they have added signs like “If you flash someone, you will be exposed.” and “You don’t have to be touched if you don’t want to.“
To the first quote, isn’t that the whole point of flashing someone? To be exposed?
To the second quote, thanks Captain Obvious. Who walks around wanting to be touched all the time except a person on extasy?
I see other similar signs with a generic person looking fearful, but I still laugh anyway. It reminds me of those “Don’t smoke weed” ads on television where the girl on the bike gets plowed by some giggling pot heads pulling out of a drive thru, and the curious white kid picks up a gun and says “What’s this?”and haphazardly fires it in his face. Or, the little semi-Filipino high school girl that has a pic of her circulating via text message and her boy crush gets it and sees her doing something reckless while high.
Anyways, I always look forward to reading the advertisements on the train. Even when they are supposed to carry a serious message, I manage to find some humor. Such is the commute from my beautiful suburb to the city streets of Boston.
OK, my suburb isn’t dazzling. It is pretty quiet though.
06.19.08
When Making Race-Based Wall Comments on FB Goes Terribly Wrong…
Posted in General Rambles, Politicking tagged comments, cornell, facebook, racism, stereotypes, wall at 5:44 pm by slimjackson
Just when I was convinced racial ignorance and stereotypes had vanished from the face of the earth, I was alerted of a developing situation on Facebook. As many of you know, I went to a small school in a big city. Small school being Cornell, and the big city being Ithaca, NY (Sarcasm). I’ve blogged on another website about watching what you put on the internet, because employers and everybody else has access to it. There’s a reason that I blog under this moniker even though a good number of people know who I am by real name.
To get to the point, it appears that an incoming caucasian freshman has been inadvertently selected to live in a cultural living center/dormitory on campus called Ujamma. We’ve seen this topic of debate in national headlines before. It’s a living center that embraces, promotes, and immerses students of various cultural backgrounds into the African Diaspora. It’s a foundation of the black community at Cornell whether a student and his/her last 3 generations were born in the U.S. or abroad. Many a community discussion has and will continue to be held there. For years, there has been outrage amongst the majority about providing such a dormitory for minority students. What’s even more horrifying is how horrified this particular student was to find out he was living there, and the response that his token black friend had to it. The following is a series of comments taken from their walls. The comments have since been deleted, but I saved the screen shots. I’m resourceful guys…
Wall Comments:
We have a new situation of ignorance. The wayward college bound caucasian student, and a black student that wishes he was caucasian have decided to engage in an open FB wall dialogue. Some of the sample commentary is as follows:
White Black Guy: hahaha, omg. Im gunna laugh directly in your face, for at least a month straight. And hell no, im not about to live in negro-ville.
White Black Guy: just get used to eating fried chicken and watermelon on a day to day basis.
White Black Guy: haha, wait til you meet the albino African. And I’m not even kidding.
Scared Caucasian Student: I’ve only had 3 black people in my HS. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this.
Scared Caucasian Student: haha I cant wait. And I already told dan he’s bringin the kool-aid.
Scared Caucasian Student: u just wish u were cool enough to pull off ujamaa. unlike u. I am down with the brothas.
Back to My Rant
This is the type of ignorance that causes and continues to perpetuate the problems that we face today. When people are isolated and have limited interaction with other cultures and races, this is the result. We have a scared Caucasian student who isn’t comfortable living in a predominantly black dormitory. Yet, African Americans are supposed to be completely comfortable living in a world dominated by another race? Is this irony? Or I am completely off base here? As many a conservative and racist have said in the past about individuals like myself, “Suck it up buddy. That’s life. Get used to it.” Welcome to college.
As for the black student who seems to think he fits in with other side, I am ashamed. He is an example of everything I am not. He is the epitome of coonery, shuck and jive, and bafoonery. He perpetuates the same hatred and stereotypes that we have been trying to eliminate for years. But what can you say, the man isn’t comfortable in his own skin. If he ever wants to sit and discuss his life and how he emerged from the womb as a poor excuse for a black man, I will be more than happy to listen.
Offer this man some support folks. Everybody reach out to Trey and let him know it’s OK for him to love himself and embrace where he ultimately comes from. And someone let his friend know that it’s OK to be around black people. We don’t bite, unless we’re talking about Mike Tyson. Then again, he has people like Marv Albert.
And that’s a wrap.
P.S. Ignorance isn’t always bliss.
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