The Yellow River

There are few joys in the world that match the fun found in draining the lizard."Oh no, is he really about to make a blog about this?!" *pandemonium ensues*. YES! It behooves me to spread the joy I have in this act. Why? Because it is sooooooo much more fun as a guy. I can write my name in the snow. I can run across all the urinals in an empty restroom. I can stand outside the bathroom and still hit the target! It's great I tell ya! Just great! To some--perhaps to many-- this seems like the grossest post one could ever do. Well...I'm a little out there,#1 and #2, there's always #2(and I REALLY don't think you guys want me to take shit there<=pun intended lol! Let's really think about it though. You may say "eww,peeing is not fun!" yet there are many a statue of kids,cherubs, or what have you peeing in the pool(which might I add is NOT cool, however it does make for an interesting statue). Need further convincing? Think of the joy in pissing on the haters most of you don't even have. Yes, piss--in all it's nastiness--is still quite useful. Ask yourself, "What are you doing to enhance your pee experience?" I would assume, not much. Women, I feel for you...all of you; for you have to stand statically while you release. Well, you could move, but that may get messy. I say all that to say this: appreciate your piss...R.Kelly certainly does!

If this ain't some bull$%* IDK what is!

A friend of mine put me onto this video and I must say, it is shocking,not shocking, sad, and funny all at the same time. I don't normally do these judge shows, but this shit right here nigga? This shit right here? This is some unadulterated fuckery! This woman is divorcing her husband for being...*wait for it*...a GOOD husband! Don't believe me? Take a look:

The Plight of the Left Hand

Before I begin, I'd like to thank the makers of the keyboard and the makers of the innanet--yes the innanet-- for without them, I might have to arduously write this shit. After 22 years of being left-handed in a right-handed world, it has dawned on me that in the world of hands, the left hand is--to equate it to kindergarteners--the one that gets pointed at, laughed at, and danced around in a circle while all the kids chant ever-so-slowly, "Lefty McShnefty"! I really think it was an evil plot formulated during the days of the "New World" colonization. Then the corporations followed suit and said "yeah, we'll make all the notebooks comfortable for righties!" Which reminds me...why don't they have a "righty" term? What type hogwash is that? I despise the term "lefty". Damnit, I'm left-handed, not a 'lefty'! You righties don't know how frustrating it is to innocently be writing and here comes some jerk with those wretched "oh you're a lefty?". In my mind I'm screaming "What the fuck does it look like you damn genius" but I can't be so rude and forthright. I have to remember, I'm not just representing me, I'm representing all of the lefti--I mean, left-HANDED people. Then there's the people who are just getting to know you and they go and ask "so are you a lefty?" Again, who asks that? I'm going to make it my business to say "hey, are you a righty?Huh?Are you a dirty little righty?" Let's see you guys like it! From these got damned right handed notebooks to the cops bothering me because I'm black AND left-handed it gets rough out here! OK,OK, I'll admit, if cops harass me it rarely--Fine! It never has anything to do with my left-hand, but I'm sure it would if they knew! If you ask me, it is us 'lefties' who brought the world to where it is today. We are the great minds of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Now, of course, there's always an exception to the rule or some random dude who probably hung around lefties that slipped through the cracks, so I'll give those crack slippers their credit too. It's a cold world for us left-handed people,but we'll get by...one day at a time.

Wither

It's a painful thought what the effects of time can do
my beautiful rose...
what's happened to you?
when I first picked you from the jungle of concrete
no doubt a rare thing to see on these city streets,
a beautiful
a vibrant
a resilient rose
MY resilient rose...or so I thought
my,my,my how you've let yourself go
and every ounce of beauty seems to wither away as the seasons go
I'll ask you again. now let me know...what happened?!
I'm watching your petals fall to the floor
and my attraction to you is steady knocking on heaven's door
see I can't take this too much more
'cause when fun turns to a bore that means its time to run away
I've watched u turn from a radiant red, to gloomy gray.
used to seeing you glisten even under raindrops
unmotivated to maintain yourself I've seen another petal drop.
what's next?
your personality I guess.
see, that's the one petal you have left
and with that I hope for the best, but still...
why wasn't I warned?
it's like the more I stay with you,the more I get stuck my your thorns.
eventually that'll lead to more scorn,but in time all wounds heal..or so they say
and I can't promise anymore that I'll be here to stay
"it's just me and the thorns now"
well I won't wait for that day.
sadly I can't save you
I guess you'll just wither away.