So after more than 25 years of wearing glasses, I decide it’s time for some contacts. After a swift eye exam and a brief tutorial on inserting and removing the contacts, I walked out of the optometrist for the first time with out a pair of glasses on my face, and I could see! It was cool…
Until I had to take them out. An ordeal that lasted more than three hours. In fact, at one point I got so desperate that I went on a 1:30 am adventure to find a drug store, grocery store… even a Wal-Mart, that sold some type of apparatus to help me get those shits out of my eyes. It was fruitless. Finally after watching several YOUTUBE videos, phoning a friend and praying to my lord and savior… I got them out.
The next morning, renewed, recharged, and determined, I attempted to put them back in. 2 hours later I was back at the eye doctor picking out a pair of frames. The contacts are still in the case where they will live out their existence… I’ll show them! BASTARDS!
I excelled in school until about the 3rd quarter of my 7th grade year. It was then I met my lifelong nemesis and sworn enemy- ALGEBRA! Well, pre-algebra to be exact. It whooped my ass, and did so royally for the next 5 years. I eeked a passing grade out of pre-algebra… emerged from algebra 1 and 2 with an amazingly dismal perception of myself. Geometry and Pre-cal finished me off with a one-two punch. The only claim to fame I have with regards to math is that I found my way to a position in life where I can pawn off the counting, numbers and complex equations to someone else while I bask in the ignorance of my mathematical ineptitude.
Needless to say, the many quoted stats, numbers and projections spewed during the current political campaign may as well have been voiced in Sanskrit. Yes… its utterly confusing and foreign. As I’ve watched the debates, commercials and stump speeches over the last few months, I can often be heard shouting at the television “JUST SAY IT IN ENGLISH”. But no one has heard my plea… until now.
Mitt Romney urged us in the debates to go to his site where his 5-point plan to improve the economy and simplify the tax code is spelled out in easy to read, simple and concise language. So I did. And now like Paul on the road to Damascus… I see the LIGHT!!!
Click here to see for yourself: ROMNEYTAXPLAN.com
People get ready!!! Detta är visa din mamma varnade dig! For more information go to: www.creativecall.org!
Let’s take a trip through time. Throughout the annals of history, very few poets have been able to capture and contain the raging emotions and passion that explode within the human spirit in love. The task is elusive, whether in paint or stone, or in the form of words and song. So few in fact have achieved this feat, that when one is successful, the ramifications of their verse and song reverberates through history and exists profoundly in the soul of man, passing down from generation to generation via some genetic osmosis that I have not the vocabulary to describe.
The Greek poetess Sappho (600 B.C.) crafted fiery odes to both her male and female love interests. In the 1700’s Jean-Paul Martini and Jean Pierre Claris de Florian wrote “Plaisir D’Amour”, a poetic lament about a love gone asunder. The Isley Brothers “In Between the Sheets” used literal and metaphoric references to make young lovers engage in steamy embraces and baby-making antics. R. Kelly’s allegorical “You Remind me of my Jeep” took the affinity for cool rides and hot girls to uncharted dimensions in the 90’s.
Then along came the 2010’s and a new epoch of love and expression was achieved when poet Mike Schatz penned his now infamous ode to unbridled passions. “Rusty Trombone” is a sweet, thick-country melody about an act of love, that transports virgin ears to the peak of “freakdom”. No ode, limerick, haiku, poem or song ever in the history of language expresses the untameable desire to “get it in” like this.
Mike Schatz- for Saint-hood.
TAKEN, the 2008 action film starring Liam Neeson took audiences by surprise. Neeson literally tore Paris apart in an effort to rescue his abducted teenage daughter. Possessing a “set of unique skills” that could only have been gleaned over a career as a super-secret C.I.A. operative, Neeson’s Brian Mills character took a group of seedy underworld, black-market dealing, sex slave wrangling, shit-talking Albanians to task!
Imagine my delight when I learned that a sequel was coming out which promised to be as exciting and as invigorating as the first.
It was not.
In fact, it was no where near. Taken 2 is a classic example of ‘can’t leave well-enough alone’. It’s like one of those SNL skits that starts out with a hilarious montage of people being punched to an infectious electro-pop music beat, that then dissolves into an unpredictable and unnecessary dance scene with zombies! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!?!
I honestly believe that Taken 2 was actually a secret government plot to lure unsuspecting test subjects to the theater under the guise of watching a blockbuster action flick, when in secret there was actually some hypnotic or mind-controlling mechanism secretly embedded in the flickering images of the film reel, that will one day be activated by some sort of auditory or visual trigger unbeknownst to us all. We’ve been covertly converted into rogue agents of mayhem and destruction.
Sadly, if this hypothesis was in fact true, it would make the money spent on tickets to see Taken 2, worth it!
For the last 20 hours or so, media outlet’s everywhere have hotly contested whether President Barack Obama or Republican hopeful, Mitt Romney, won last night’s first presidential debate. But the real question lingers on… What the HOLY HELL happened to Al Sharpton???
My lawd! In real life, he looks like his head has been photoshopped on somebody else’s body! Weight loss be damned… Is he melting? In fact my first thought was that he must be seriously ill. But his clearly cosmetic grill suggests otherwise. His teeth look like muppet teeth! They are so perfectly aligned that if you make a quick glance it’s almost as though he has like one marble tooth that spans his entire upper and lower jaw.
How anyone can have any conversations today without questioning the good reverend’s dramatic cosmetic alterations escapes me. Let’s see the pundits take this on!
This year’s BET Hip Hop Awards has been overshadowed by yet another fight (or two) between grown ass, rich dudes with a point to prove about their manhood. This time it was Jezzy and Rick Ross. Last year it was Diddy and Kenny Burns. The year before that Waka Flocka and a BET exec… It goes on and on.
The UFC has made a gazillion dollars off of dudes beating the crap out of each other with a very neat and organized marketing machine behind it. They are currently gearing up for UFC 153 which features one of my favorite MMA stars, Anderson Silva. But 153 marks the actual 153rd UFC battale royale which makes it easy to keep up with how many of these highly lucrative brawls the brand has produced.
That got me to thinking… what if the BET Hip Hop Awards, which have been held in Atlanta for the last 7 years did the same thing. I mean, you already KNOW there’s going to be a fight. Year after year, rapper clique after rapper clique gets involved with a war of words which escalates to shoving, to brawling to well, you know. So why not just grease these dudes up and put them in the ring! Think of how much money THAT would make! I can see it now, BETHHA 7: JEEZY vs. RICK ROSS or BETHHA8: TUPAC’s HOLOGRAM vs. What’s Left of Soulja Boy’s career…
Look at it this way, with the two artists facing off head to head in the ring we can potentially avoid the skirmishes and melees that ensue when over eager crew members start throwing bottles and pulling out pistols – actually, that probably wouldn’t change anything.