One Laptop Per Child!

One laptop per child.
One laptop per child?
One laptop per child!
Huh…

How about one bottle of water per child.
How about one bottle of water per child per day.
How about eight bottles of water per child per day!

I look in all the corner delis across nyc.
Overflowing with Evian, Desani, Poland Spring, Aquafina.
You meana tell me that these cats in Africa cant have some clean water?
So instead you gonna give them a mac or a dell?
What THE hell!
You gotta be kidding me.
Kids murdering eachother in the streets of America for the top jordans, whats gonna happen with a child of war and a computer in his lap? Sitting there tapping google for the hottest news on paris and Nicole? Looking for Kardiashians sex tape talking about this rich ass white girl in America who like to fuck brothers who look like me?

"Look, we go to America and even the white girls will fuck us… no more AIDS, no more AIDS… "

How about a cure?
No more diarrhea
No more maleria
No more infectious disease

Na b, give em a lap top so they can look up their symptoms on web md as UN aidworkers sip on Desani brought to them by some rich white dood at Coca Cola in his air conditioned office in Atlanta.

One laptop per child.
One laptop per child?
One laptop per child!

Dried up?

As a child i cried all the time. Over real things, over silly things... my tears would flow endlessly. If my mother and i walked passed a KB Toys and on the off chance that i did not get a Gi Joe i would break down in tears. If i was in the mood for a calzone instead of a pizza and a large pie arrived dripping with cheese i would be balling. I guess this has more to do with youthful spoiledness and lack of temperance but none the less it was giving my tear ducts good practice for my teen angst years.

As i grew older, hormones took over and relationships developed. My first relationship was in 6th grade to a girl named Catie. Catie was awesome, she was a grade older and the most popular girl in school which made it that much more exciting for me. I was a lil punk kid who wore tie dyed shirts, ripped jeans, skull earrings and hair down to his chin. I was the spitting image of Edward Furlong in T2. Catie introduced a plethora of new emotions to my psyche that i was certainly not ready for. Feelings of crazy excitement, happiness, joy were quickly replaced with insecurity, doubt, confusion. Many saturday nights would end in a screaming match followed by the inevitable sunday night 6 hour phone call that would smooth things over. We cried alot and after 6 months we ended it. My first real infatuation, over.

Of course, with all of this mellow drama the bigger issues started to surface and blew full storm sometime in high school. I cried all the time. Eventually these issues were dealt with and i was convinced that crying was a healthy way to purge myself of these emotions. Just not too much.

Now that im an adult (relatively) the tears come less frequently, if at all. In fact i cant remember the last time i had a good cry. I remember having a moment in college but that was roughly 6 years ago. 5 years ago i had a panic attack and was hospitalized in Australia after what some might call a near death experience (more like the sensation of). I was sitting in the back seat of the car with three friends driving along the coast outside Byron Bay on the way back from the hospital. The sea was the bluest id ever seen it and the sun was beating down on my face and the wind was in my hair. I remember being really cognizant of the elements and appreciating them more like most people do after a traumatizing experience. But i didnt cry. I tried to cry, i thought it would be appropriate. But i couldnt do it. Nothing came out. I dont know if that means anything.

Now once in a while a tear might come out but its fleeting and usually for good reasons, out of joy. I found myself watching a movie last month (embarrassingly i will admit a romantic comedy) and the couple came together at the end and i laughed and got teary eyed. I wonder if thats the natural progression of the emotional release. When youre younger and unable to digest complex emotional reactions youre liable to cry more often, and when youre older, after youre seasoned ... it changes. Obviously this is not true for everyone. So i guess i wonder if ive become more emotionally closed off or just more capable at coping with the emotional elements. I like to think the latter... hopefully.

.....

i know what youre thinking
it all comes down to me
sitting and restless
scratching up the trees
looking over the edge
its endless to beginwith
a warmth comes over us
and we begin to see
we are both lonely
even though never alone
fingers in fingers
lips in lips
our shoelaces become untied
this is the end we dreamed of
now we jump into the abyss

Getting to the Root of it

This morning i had brunch with my mother. She ordered a mango and beet salad and i had a breakfast burrito. Often enough while we eat we talk about the same issues usually revolving around family, friends, politics and sports. Today she mentioned that she was getting her hair done this upcoming Monday. My mother is a beautiful woman and i commend her for growing her hair long as shes gotten older since generally women have the tendency to cut it short with age. My first reaction was to say "dont get it cut too short". Luckily she quickly followed with "I need to get my roots done." I looked up at her hair and saw that indeed her roots were starting to show. Her dirty blonde lockes were safe past her shoulders but the roots were almost an inch off of her scalp.

I wondered what she would look like if she grew her natural color out. It has been probably over 50 years since all the hair on her head contained its natural hue. And then it occurred to me that society might see a bump in god given hair color over the next year. With the economic crisis upon us where does hair coloring rank in personal budgeting? With funds getting tight my mother did admit that after this appointment she might have to start having her friends color her hair at home. I can see the pandemic across the world spreading as economic systems collapse. First its roots growing out, then its hair growing longer and lastly a breakout of rubberband and scrunchee thefts across the globe as women put their hair up.

Whatever shall we do?

Lets have faith that Obama will do the right thing to get the economy on track. But then again he has no hair to speak of, at least compared to women.

Never in a Million Years

You mean to tell me Democracy works!
My vote counts! It makes a difference?!
Since when does this happen?
Since when does my voice get heard?!
I remember laughing at the idea...
I could never imagine...
Even just a week ago when we were way ahead...
Even just yesterday when it was for real...
Never in a million years!
Never in a million years!

Enjoy the moment Tahira

Nina...

I could make love to Nina Simones Voice... literally 

Phinally Phillies! 25 years in the making!!

25 years in the making. After a 162 game season, the NL east crown, the NL pennant, a 46 hour rain suspended championship clinching game 5, oh and 25 years. Philadelphians were able to rejoice on Wednesday night as the Philadelphia Phillies won their first World Series championship in 28 years, the first championship for the city of Philadelphia in all four major sports in 25 years (the longest drought nationally).

Philadelphia long known for its grizzled fans. A notoriety earned by pelting Santa Clause with snowballs, JD Drew with batteries and Michael Irvin (whilst being carted off the field on a stretcher) with ice balls. This fan base, who many people argued would turn on their teams on the drop of a dime, were always just desperate for something good. Something to cheer for, to celebrate, to revere, to love. All they really wanted was a team to win one for them and finally that team has arrived.

Philadelphia has one of the highest murder rates for a large city in the country. It has a horrible public education system. The city has a revolving door that operate at the entrance of its police precincts. Philly has a HIV rate that is 50% higher then the national average. For all intensive purposes we shouldn't be cheering, and that's why us Philadelphians needed this win. Already excited by the prospect of an Obama victory, this large democratic city had a team to cheer for and when the Fightin Phils won the world series the people took to the streets and for a day there were no murders, only jovial revelers.

People danced in the streets. People hugged and kissed strangers. People drank beer, people drank lots of beer. People cried. People yelled. People screamed. People sang together. And on Friday, two days after the greatest win in Philadelphia Phillies history 2 million people entered the city and paraded around as the bright sun sat in the bluest of skies. Finally we knew what it meant to win and be champions.

Praise the Lord

Can you love too much... one step towards the middle, one step towards the edge. My arms come around your hips and i want to take you, just this once so we can remember what it was like when we were desperate enough to give in, inside and outside as long as its side by side.

Hummingbirds flitter by and say "la la la" - it sounds like a soul song and it takes you back to the doo wop and the bee bop... the days when i could carry your books back from school right up to your doorstep and your mother would yell me off your front stoop. I would come back once the moon set and throw pebbles at your window waiting for venus to kiss your lips and you to say good evening.

hand in hand
flowers by your bedside
diary under your mattress
you sing in the mirror
about me
and what it will be like

stay with me tonight, just for a lil while, ill touch you tenderly and we will remember what it was like our first time, nervous gestures, holding my breath when we are close just in case its not pleasant, your fingertips in my mouth resting on my teeth, biting your neck just so softly. we wont fuss, we wont cry, its all we need. the first time wasnt perfect but thats why we keep working at it, we want to get it right so we can do it again and again.

everytime is the last time, its on our mind and we practice it again and again. our love should be a motown song sung by marvin gaye and tammy terrell. ill be your preacher and you will pray, on your knees with your hands together, speaking in tongues and blessing oh lord,

oh lord
oh lord
oh lord

pray for forgiveness, pray for mercy, cuz it has cum
over and over again, no need to stay on your knees because soon you will need to be on your back, laying down and letting jesus becum you, cross your hand over your chest, up down, left right, once again just to be sure

when im done with you, you will know heaven

Its All Fantasy

I am not in the NBA. I have not played competitive organized basketball since 1998 when i was a senior in highschool at Friends Select in center city Philadelphia. I attempt to play basketball a few times a week but alas, over the years i have had numerous injuries ranging from tendinitis in my knee and shoulders, torn ligaments in my ankles, broken ribs etc etc... The older i get the more my body seems to reject the notion of consistently playing basketball. Thus all i have left to indulge my dreams of NBA superstardom (or even a 12th man on the bench) is fantasy basketball.

Mid October every year. The oppressive heat of the summer gives way to the cool kiss of the fall winds. The shake off their green hue and display a technicolor dream coat that leaves even Joseph in awe. Basketball players lace up their sneaks, rubber soles sqeaking on hard wood as they break up and down the court. And the common fan can have a part of it in the fantasy world. At this time every year i gather with a group of friends to draft our teams. The weeks leading up to the draft are spent talking about the upcoming season. We talk about projections, about players, about teams, about how awesome it is that the boredom of summer sports gives way to the fastest growing sport in the world. We wonder if basketball will take over soccer as the number one sport worldwide one day and whether or not it can be a conduit to peace between warring countries. We worship at the alter of basketball and the fantasy draft is our form of prayer.

I am in three fantasy basketball leagues this year and last night was my first draft. This is by far the most important of the three drafts as there is a $100 buy in and in April if you stand at the top of the 12 teams that are registered you can win $1000. The day was spent doing massive research online instead of doing the research that we should have done for our actual places of employment. Dozens of text messages were sent back and forth between all of us. Phone calls were placed, the excitement was brewing.

The draft is like Christmas. Its something you look forward to for months. Its not only a sign that the season is upon us but its also your own personal stake in the NBA. Not only will you cheer for your favorite team but now you will also cheer for players on your fantasy team. Its okay if a player on my fantasy team like Kobe Bryant scores 50 points against my real favorite team, the Philadelphia 76ers as long as the Sixers win. But i need Kobe to score those points, and also pick up some assists, steals, threes, and shoot high percentages. But please dont beat the 76ers on the court in reality.

So if the draft is like Xmas, then when Yahoo Sports system goes down and doesnt allow anyone to enter your live online draft - that must be like finding out Santa Claus is not real. Last night 12 of us were signed online eagerly awaiting the draft when the "enter live draft now" button never appeared. Text messages sent, phone calls placed, as most of us panicked at the thought that one of us would miss the draft. Nay, it was all of us. None of us would be able to draft our team as the system would go ahead and draft for us automatically. We all sent angry emails to Yahoo and shortly there after received emails from the server host apologizing and saying it would be remedied and we would be able to draft again on Sunday afternoon. Sunday afternoon, a time when we are asured to be home watching our favorite football teams and cheering for our fantasy football players to score 3 touchdowns. As long as they dont score the winning touchdown against our favorite teams.

Its All Fantasy.

Oh Happy Day! Clay is Gay!

In case you haven't heard Clay Aiken is gay. This was actually a headline and the top news story on Yahoo.com on Tuesday evening September 23, 2008.

I am actually very happy they reported this breaking news. Ever since Clay broke on to the scene on American Idol back in 2003 as a skinny lil college student from the mid atlantic i had always wondered about his sexuality. I lay up late at night thinking about what he looked like without his shirt on and wondered whether or not, if he knew me, he would wonder the same about me. I kept imagining him in a Seacrest/Cowell sandwich with my dogg Randy Jackson close by giving them the "Hoo Hoo". Now to know that he is gay, i am comforted believing that he possibly fantasized about the same things too.

ClayMates across the nation lets join hands. Amidst all the political turmoil, all the wars, the economic recession, the all american yankees struggles in their final season at this yankee stadium, let us join hands, especially of all of us men. All of us men in banana hammocks ordered from international male, caked in glistening tanning oil without a hair on our body lets join hands and then join bodies and give Clay our support. Because we all know that he needs it and when we do support him you can bet Yahoo news will be their to report it.

Bailouts!

So not only has the bush administration spent our money like a 13 year old looking for a quick sugar fix in a candy shop (mind you this 13 year old is extremely hyper yet lazy and is somewhere around 400 pounds), but now he is asking for close to $1trillion to help bailout beleaguered financial institutions!!! WTF!!!!??

Bush gives banks carte blanche to run amok during his terms in office and then sticks the taxpayers with the bill. Its like you are planning a reunion for a bunch of your highschool buddies when one friend who you arent particularly close with (but hes someones brother) says "dont worry, i got the hook up at the club, we will be straight, i got us vip bottle service!" You and your buddies get all excited, you take a limo to the joint and down copious amounts of redbull and vodka on your way there. You pull up to the spot ready to do the damn thing, the line is wrapped around the block but you dont worry, your friend has the hook up right?! Sure enough you go to the front of the line and all of a sudden said friend turns and says "alright yo, let me get your credit card cuz they wont let us in!" This really happened. And thats what bush and all his cronies are attempting to do to us.

We will be stuck with the bill and left with a dead dollar whose worth will value my crusty toe nails and some lint in my pockets. If we have learned anything its that short term solutions dont work. You dont spend massive amounts of money to save money. You pull yourself up by the bootstraps and dig in. You get ready for the long hall and dont trust doods who say they have the hook up for the vip bottle service (bush).

The Klan Rally - RNC

I know its a bit far north from the usual Klan meetings but something about 20.000 white people gathering together to preach their beliefs seems eerily familiar to a klan rally.  It looks like the most homogenous crowd ever assembled for national television.  Theres more whities there then at a free Creed concert.  I realize i am from the north east but every other person has a cowboy hat and every other woman has shoulder pads.  They also all probably have automatic weapons tucked into their waste bands.  Once in a while you will see a black person in the crowd and i have to believe that they have been voted off the island.  They definitely cant go back home. 

Moving on... Right now Rudy is preaching his agenda and the crowd has busted out saying "Drill Baby Drill!"  I think im about to vomit.  I think i just vomitted a lil bit in my mouth.  No i dont think, i just did, literally.  Every other point the republicans argue revolves around liberals being to PC and calling out the DNC as being to easy on radical muslim terrorists.  Whats funny is that the Republicans have control of the white house, theyve had control for the last 8 years.  Which means the Dems havent really had the opportunity to do anything about the so called "war on terrorism."   It seems eerily similar to the same fear mongering that the Bush administration has used to trick the dumbass fundamentalist conservatives over the last 8 years.  

Palin just stepped on the stage.  I have to admit that shes kind of got that hot librarian thing going on.  I kind of feel like im in the video for "Hot For Teacher."  If she wasnt so crazy i might sleep with her.  But then id be afraid that she would pull a Praying Mantis on me and take off my head with an AK-47.  

After five minutes all she has done is introduced her family.  I think she is gearing up to play the "fued".  With her hockey sticks and weapons she would probably dominate Family Fued.  I am waiting for her to say something of substance because those far she has just taken pot shots at Obama and has said nothing about what she stands for.  I dont think she has blinked the whole time up there either.  I think she might be a robot.  She just promised to use the "power of veto."  So instead of actually getting stuff done she is promising to make sure that nothing gets done.   

Ugh, honestly i feel physically ill so im just gonna end this ... 

for the love of god america, step the fuck up and knock these bitches out 

4 Minutes to Save Straight Men and Women All Over

Is it me or does anyone else think of Captain Hook and Smee when they hear "4 Minutes" by Madonna and JT.  Every time Madonna chimes in "Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock" i just think of Robin Williams in a liatard trying to stick Dustin Hoffman and Bob Hoskins with a wooden stick.  At some point in the song the clocktower alligator has to start dancing.  Also if you are gonna write a song with a hook "We only got 4 minutes to save the world" , wouldn't it make sense to actually make the song 4 minutes?  I assume they are saying that a boy and girl gyrating to their music will infact save the world in that short amount of time (save it from what though i have no idea, bad music maybe?).  But then they are leaving out all homosexuals across the planet since they specifically targeted a man and woman together (republican agenda?).  I find this last part especially alarming considering that most of the modern world knows that Madge has dipped her tongue in Georgia O' Keefes ink well.  

Hmm... something is a miss within the pop world.    

Wedding Season and the Bachelor

The last six weeks i have been traveling all over the northeast, Midwest and parts of Canada as I've been wedding hopping as a single bachelor.  I am in my late twenties and have been fully entrenched in the wedding season of my life for the last two years.  Weddings present all of us with great reasons to drink, dance and have sex with random wedding goers all whilst feeling a sense of loneliness, togetherness, regret, positivity and ultimately massive confusion.  With that said here are a few pointers ... 

1.  I have been to a dozen or so weddings the last few years.  They have run the gamut of weddingness.  A wonderfully ornate and over the top wedding in Egypt, followed by a low key one in a friends back yard in Philly.  Another wedding set up in the most beautiful islands of Lake Superior in Canada and another in the concrete jungle of NYC .  What I've realized is that it doesn't matter where you are, it just matters how drunk you get with your friends.  If you drink a lil and remain conscious then ultimately you ll be left with your thoughts and that's always dangerous in large groups of drunk people.  If you are single like i am, you start wondering why you are indeed still single while all your friends have seemingly found happiness with another.  So its necessary that you drink as much as possible so you forget it all.  Also drinking makes the next point easier... 

2.  The wedding hookup.  There are always single people at weddings and that's what can really make a wedding fun.  I'm not saying to whore yourself out.  But really its up to your own moral agenda how promiscuous you decide to act.  And that's whats great about weddings, there is no moral agenda.  Its like this vacuum of ethical ambiguity that excuses all type of scandalous behavior.  In fact being a slut is almost encouraged at weddings, as long as you are not the bride or groom.  People expect emotions to flow.  When emotions flow so do bad decisions.  Weddings are the only place where bad decisions are allowed, well weddings and war.  So embrace it.  And if you cant find someone that you find attractive, then keep drinking!!! At a recent wedding a friend approached me with a scouting report.  We both agreed that the best we could find was a 6 out of 10.  Hours later i was quoted as saying "Drunk at 3am, those 6's quickly become a 7."  So true.  Moving on... 

3.  Weddings are frickin' expensive.  We all know this to be true.  But with the economy tanking its even more so.  Plus with their actually being a "wedding season" they hit you one after the other and its easily enough to bankrupt a person.  What is worse is that you cant make the bride or groom feel guilty about it because its "their day."  Maybe a few months down the road but not at the wedding.  They key to all this is to remember each guest has one year to deliver the wedding gift.  Its amazing how many people don't know this.  I guess one year there had to be a guy who went postal during wedding season after the banks foreclosed on his home.  SO they made an addendum and now we all have up to a year after the date of the wedding to get a gift for our beloved "just married" friends.  Thank god for this rule.  Just remember though that you get to bankrupt all your friends one day with your own destination wedding.  I'm going to Hawaii bitches. 

4.  Dance!!! Don't be a sour puss at wedding!  Dance your ass off.  Even if you are a horrible dancer, which most of us are (except for me, I'm awesome) dance anyway!  Its the best way to have fun with your friends.  Generally good bands play at weddings, fun bands that play up to the crowd, so just let loose.  But be aware of the dreaded "electric slide."  If you get caught in that crush you are likely to pull a muscle or tear a ligament. 

So if you are single these are just a few tidbits to remember or just live by.  If you have trouble remembering them then please feel free to rent Wedding Crashers or just wait for it to air on TBS (but that's not nearly as good because they have to edit out a lot, including all the boobies).  Oh , its true what they said too, tattoo on the lower back - might as well be a bulls eye.

untitled

need 

for skin

for touch 

even if its fleeting 

sometimes just to remind you

that you can feel 

for touch

for skin 

Pop Life

this pop life is gonna fade, coming down blvds speeding inside my coke can while britney spears flashes me whats left of her breaking news ... she opens her mouth and the offspring emerges gently morphing into the hills and setting up a staged reality while lauren and the kardashians fight for the acknowledgement of every thirteen year old girl on the planet, spread those legs and strip down, capture your movements on an iphones and send it off to E! and youtube, within moments youll find yourself floating through fiber optics on a high speed chase trying to catch up with the information thats traded via laptops and cumshots  

warhol wasnt far off, kudos for having threesomes and threatning to kill your roommates because they drank the last juicy juice and you happen to have a camera in your face ... soak up the poplight, spotlight, its never quiet on this set, all you want to buy is a pair of flip flops to go with your prescription meds mix with a bottle of jack wanting to be celebrated like janis but we havent martyred a reality star yet ..

do you think if youre the first they will put you on the walk of fame?  

willing to try? 

Scare Tactics

On the last day before the Pennsylvania Democratic Primary both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama bombarded PA air waves with ads promoting their respective messages.  While Obama has continually focused on his message of hope, Hillary has gone through the gambit.  At one point she portrayed herself as the most capable leader.  When that didnt work she showed a softer side by pleading with America.  When that fell on deaf ears she went on the offensive with the now notorious "3am" ad.  She desperately criticized Obama for his personal relationships, no matter how fleeting they were.  And now on the day before the primary, Clinton has reached further into her Karl Rove campaign handbook and in one commercial has attempted to scare the shit out of Pennsylvanian Democrats and fool them into voting for her.  

WWII, Pearl Harbor, Berlin Wall and of course Bin Laden.  Does that not sound eerily similar to the Bush agenda?  Hasn't our current Leader in Chief used the same tactics to manipulate the masses into following his strategy for personal gain?  Hmmm.... On top of that Hillary quotes Harry Truman "If you cant stand the heat, get out of the kitchen."  The same Truman who was a notorious racist (often in his personal love letters to his wife Bess) and dropped two bombs that killed more people with one act in the history of humanity.  

Perhaps Mrs. Clinton thinks less of the American people.  Perhaps she underestimates our intelligence.  Unfortunately there will be some folks who fall for it but in the long run, if we are going to evolve as a society, this type of climate must change.  We need leaders who inspire hope and cohesive evolution, not ones who use fear tactics to scare the public. 

A Society of Judgement

We live under a microscope.  A microscope where anything that we say or do will be dissected and criticized by society total.  A microscope that will take a raucous war cry from Howard Dean and bring down a campaign or an "i cant believe America is falling for this idiot" sigh from Al Gore and bring down another.  

Obama used the term "bitter" to describe a certain demographic of Americana.  Obama was linked to a preacher whose political views are too controversial for the mainstream.  Now with our 24/7 media coverage an individual in and out of the spotlight cant take a shit without Wolf Blitzer flushing the toilet and Perez Hilton scrubbing the floor.  The Pandemic is much larger then the political sphere but i want to keep it focused on this.  

America has always found it necessary to break down our political representatives (as well as other public figures).  Perhaps that's part of the job.  Perhaps if our trust in public figures was not so threatened we would be a kinder and gentler society.  Yet we are not at that point.  Mistrust and resentment resound throughout and with that bloggers blog, people text information back and forth and snap pictures with their latest iphones.   

We are all news outlets now and as a result have all become social commentators.  But instead of promoting change and bringing us together it seems that in many instances it has made us more scornful and tears at the very fabric of our society.  We have gotten to the point where we criticize our representatives for having the brass to talk frankly and bluntly with us.  To speak to us like adults instead of children.  

Our politicos will never be perfect.  Infact they will be far from it (and i certainly do not excuse Spitzer for getting down with hookers all over the eastern seaboard).  But if anything they are a representation of ourselves.  We created them, we created the world within they live.  Lobbyists, corporate donors, seedy dealings all exist because we allowed it to happen.  All of us are responsible but yet none of us want to take the responsibility.  

And now we have a candidate with enough intelligence, empathy, compassion and hope and all we want to do is dissect him, break him down and bring him down to our level.  The level of imperfection.  Well let me tell you something, hes already there and that's what makes him so valuable.  What makes him different is that he can take those experiences and rise about his mistakes.  The question is though, can we do the same?  

North Vs South

The south is a bit different then the north, specifically the northeast.  I try to remember that home is where your heart is and depending on whether or not you take that literally its a completely different mentality.  Ive been in Charleston for two weeks tonight and today realized that i do actually LIVE in Charleston.  Even if its not permanent its still living.  I think people forget that.  No matter what they are doing, even if its monotonous, its living.  Somewhere spontaneity became associated with living.  Thus far my existence might not be considered spontaneous but is certainly categorized as random.  And with that my random life has brought me down south.  

Down south where you can find a random church on every corner.  A church of any denomination. Down south where there is a gas station on every corner and the prices rival that of the big cities of the north east.  Down south where people live comfortably and take their time.  Down south where traffic might accumulate but people do not honk their horns and instead wait patiently.  Down south where whites live in one area and blacks in another and although they might come across one another in the streets, for the most part they stick to themselves.  Down south where the young people seem to be turning liberal but are still mired in a familiar obligation to their conservative past.  

And i guess that has been the biggest challenge.  Philly is a melting pot of craziness.  All of the north east is.  It is a huge melting pot of culture and art and ethnicity.  People might be short and abrupt with one another but its because they are constantly challenged.  Perhaps they should take a minute and enjoy what they have but they also know that there is always more.  In the south the MORE doesnt matter, its what you have thats important.  Neither culture is necessarily right, it just depends on your disposition.  The other day i bought a pair of shoes.  Twenty minutes later i was food shopping and the owner of the shoe store happened to recognize me.  He asked me if i was happy with my purchase and thanked me for my patronage.  That would never ever happen in Northeast.  I was pleased but at the same time bugged out by the encounter.  

Should i pause and enjoy the encounter.  Take some solace in the fact that someone is genuinely appreciative or should i be annoyed that the owner took away more of my time?  I guess its a matter of preference but it has certainly been an interesting experience thus far.  

Besides that, drinks are cheap.  My roommate and i went out last night, i had five yuenglings and she had five miller high lifes all for seventeen dollars.  wtf?  

No matter whats going on at least i have cheap beer. 

Roadtrippin

Roadtrippin makes you feel extremely American.  There is something uniquely Americana about throwing all your belongings into a car and driving off into the sunset.  Regardless of whether or not the sun is actually setting upon your departure.  Unlike other parts of the world where one can get in their respective cars and drive into another country, Americans dont have that luxury.  Besides the border states most of us are resigned to driving across city lines and state borders and everything remains oddly familar.  But then again even Canada is not that much different from the states and if you live in the southwest or work in the service industry Mexico probably would remain the same as well.  

Yet there is something wonderful about roadtrippin America.  Everything is the same yet everything is different.  Accents change, dialect changes, culture changes, religious view and political opinions often change.  During this particular season i left the cold of New York City behind and with every 50 miles i swore there was a temperature increase of one degree until i finally reached my destination and rested comfortably at 70 degrees.  America is beautiful.  I think we forget that.  With a large proportion of our population gathered in urban areas its easy to neglect the natural splendor that is America.  

Roadtrippin in something sacred in our culture.  It goes back to our inception.  To our birth.  Give me your hungry and poor, your disposed.  American is the land of opportunity.  Even if you are no longer an immigrant traveling by boat weeks on end to reach Ellis Island, you can still find your pot of gold somewhere else.  Thats because no matter how wonderful America is wherever you might be, there is a possibility that somewhere else might be better.  And i think that feeling still remains.  There is something amazing about heading out west, something freeing.  Its as if the gold rush never stopped.   

So you pack your things into your car, put your windows down, pull on the highway, blast something incredibly American like Springsteens Born To Run and feel the wind in your hair and remember that your American and your pot of gold is waiting.  Youll just have to pull over eventually.  

height

your thoughts were true, i would not stay
singing to tunes, i begin to say

id love you today
in another life
walking hand in hand
sipping on drinks
that love is today

the excuses are endless as bleeding mattresses come alive dancing around your living rooms intoxicated with ceaseless come ones and hellos goodbyes, you dont have to be so callous while i invite you to trim my tree, the spruce
its a large tree thats full of green and lavender
it wakes up to cold shoulders because you raised that head early in the morning so you could go to work and pay for my mealtickets while skipping across the greenery
you dont have to pay so much, i dont want you to shave your head or invade the los angeles the way ms spears did , coming unraveled with smiles and umbrellas
dont sleep too late because youll miss your class and forget to enjoy the sunset

its unlikely

i used to believe in hope and it was in the form of you, traveling down parkways holding hands to eighteen wheelers, being pulled over for carrying unchecked cargo crossing county lines and being on the wrong thruways... apologies lead to regret and sorrow and once in a while to understanding 

as the sun approaches and the clouds become afraid of your approaching march

its all part of the master plan, bugs and vermin crawl out from underneath new york sofas, welcome their partners with beetle juice and brie, smiles and thank yous

beehives spin 

honey is consumed

currents in the water

feelings you cant see 

emotions gathered 

while the cars rust on the side of the road due to electric currents frying their curtain calls, your legs become crusted and calloused, big toes join the renaissance and bow down to their brethren, mistaken identities common law happenstance and none of us know who we are anymore so we become members of churches and clubs , reading about gods from Oprah's suggestions just so we can feel like we belong to something larger then ourselves, its true if you look into your eyes, staring into mirrors the only thing you will find is yourself or prescription medications leading you down caverns of withdrawal and acceptance, eventually you'll be relaxed enough to enjoy the ride and you wont have to buy the gas for three dollars a gallon

its the only way to get around unfortunately 

just ask our Saudi cousins 

Trip From Hell, Beaver Creek Colorado 08

8:15 am on a thursday my alarm clock from my phone rings.  Usually i wake up right before any alarms and thus avoid the annoying ring that my cell phone offers.  Unfortunately this time i was not as fortunate, i should have taken it as a sign.  I took my time that morning getting ready eventhough i was only half packed for a ski trip to colorado and gave myself about 45 minutes to get to the aiport.  I woke up, checked email and sports scores, fantasy basketball statistics, ate a bowl of cereal, looked at a lil porn, finished packing, got dressed and finally exited.  It was 9am and my flight was at 10:30.  Luckily i live in Astoria Queens and live only five minutes from LaGuardia airport.  I found a cab with relative ease, through my bags in the trunk, hopped in the back seat and we took off.  Besides the cabby taking a rather roundabout way to get to the airport, it was an uneventful ride... until i hopped out of the cab, got my bags, closed the drunk and then he took off.  I checked my pockets to find that my cell phone had indeed fell out of my pocket and now was pulling away from me, already speeding down the terminal dodging other yellow cabs and frightened pedestrians.  I turned to the porter who immediately knew my dilemma as he offered "Ill watch the bags, go get em young fella!" I took off down the LaGuardia terminal with incredible speed, the fastest i had ran since my older brother caught me dismembering his porn stash when i was in highschool.  Of course this alarmed everyone 

as people all stopped and stared at what was obviously the next attack on our countries home soil.  The cab was only 20 feet away but sadly my speed and endurance left much to be desired and soon enough he pulled out of sight.  Awesome. 

 

I was supposed to meet my father, step mom, lil bro and his gf at the airport as they had arrived earlier and came from ct.  I knew we would eventually find eachother at the gate but i was sure that since the last text i sent my lil bro was "im not coming, have fun" and now i was most definitely not answering phone, that he was probably a bit confused.  I arrived at the gate and saw no one.  I explained my situation to a United Airlines employee who allowed me to use her cell phone but alas the very old Greek cabbie was not answering my phone.  Sweat covered, exhausted and angry i sat down and decided to let it go.  Worse things could happen, ill just try again later and hopefully the driver will answer before i get on the plane.  It was then that i remembered i had naked pictures on my phone and part of me didnt really want him to discover my phone there at all.  Then i convinced myself that everyone has naked pictures on their phones these days, at least my generation.  My father arrived eventually, rolled his eyes and gave one of his condescending remarks before we finally realized that the flight was pushed back an hour.  At that moment i tried again and luckily the old Greek man answered my phone but lamented that he was unfortunately "all the way in brooklyn" and that i must "compensate him" for his time.  So i bummed 40 bucks from my dad got my phone back and made sure the nudie pix were safe.  Problem averted. 

 

Shortly after though a new problem arose.  My father and step mother were comfortably booked in first class while my lil brother, his gf and i were all supposed to be stowed away in economy class.  Unfortunately due to "numerous cancellations over the previous days due to inclement weather" and other snafus we no longer had seats.  1130 am passed and there was about 25 people in line watching as flight 180 to Denver took off without them, us included.  Luckily my dad is enough of a son of a bitch that he found himself being dealt with first and soon enough we were on a 20 seater to Baltimore with free Vouchers from United Airlines and a connecting first class flight for all of us to Denver.  Of course instead of arriving at 3 pm Colorado time, we would be arriving at midnight.   

 

To add to all of this i had a friend arrive at 4 am from NYC to join us on our wonderful ski adventure 08!  Ryan arrived groggy and frayed in the middle of the night and immediately went to sleep.  I awoke at 8 am and peered out the window to find the most gorgeous clear blue skies and strikingly white mountains that i had ever seen.  The day before was certainly long and frustrating but it would all be worth it soon enough.  I let Ryan sleep in and figured Dad and I would hit the slopes early.  The morning was incredible, besides my father yelling at me periodically you couldnt have asked for a better morning.  

Around noon everyone else met up with us.  It was at this point that i felt a pressure on my stomach.  Instead of listening to such pains i decided to scarf down a medium rare burger with blue cheese and portabello mushrooms.  Then i took Ryan up the mountain.  Now let me first say that Ryan had some time off work and wanted to get out of NYC and it just so happened coincided with my trip to Beaver Creek Colorado with my family.  So of course i offered and he accepted (he more asked and i said ok) but he didnt tell me that he had only skied once in his life about ten years before.  Thus Friday afternoon was left to teach Ryan how to ski so that he could keep up with the rest of the fam for the duration of the trip.  Within the first quarter of Ryans beginner green run he was on his ass winded and complaining that i had to slow down.  Mind you, Ryan claims to be the most athletic of my friends (i think we disproved it this trip).  By 4pm Ryan could hardly move from exhaustion and the pain in my stomach had invaded the rest of my senses and i felt an odd imbalance in my system.  Within the next half hour i projectiled vomited all over my bathroom.  Everything from the last week came up, the Chipotle Burrito, chips and guacamole, sushi, brown rice, chicken fingers, steak sandwich and of course the burger from earlier that day.  I hadn't blown that much chunk since i drank a bottle of vodka by myself for Las Fillas in Valencia Spain (i ended up making out with some hot canadian chick Jennie Byrd and eventually spewed on her leg i think?).   I then passed out on the bathroom floor.  

 

I woke to find my father asking Ryan and i if we were coming to dinner.  When we declined the offer he was very upset.  Not because he would miss our company but because "i have reservations for six, now you two arent coming, i hope they dont make me fucking pay for you two!!!"  Always so sympathetic.  Meanwhile I could hardly move.  The pain in my stomach was horrendous.  It felt like a lil man was extending all his extremities and attempting to push through my stomach wall.  Ryan was passed out on my bed and himself complaining of various pains that i brushed off and thought to myself "Jesus i never knew Ryan was such a pussy".  By the middle of the night Ryan and i both had the chills, aches and pains.  Although i couldnt keep anything down, Ryan could not keep anything up and thus we were quite the twosome going back and forth on the toilet that night.  Ryans body ached so much he took a bath at 1 am which inspired me to do the same at 2am and again at 5 am.  Neither of us slept.  It was arguably one of the worst nights of either of our lives and i dont know if sharing the experience with someone was for better or worse.  It definitely gives a different definition to the term wingman.  (Ill never forget coming out of the toilet at 1 am to find Ryans naked Asian ass in the bathtub,  side note - Asians hardly have any hair on their bodies, incredible)  

 

The next day my father was jonesin to hit the slopes and spend quality time with his son.  I know this because he woke me up at 7 45 am to ask me.  Still awake, eyes crusted open and stuck in the fetal position i declined his offers again.  He slammed the door and went off on his own.  Ryan had not slept either and his trips to the toilet had not subsided at all.  I thought to myself "sucka, at least im not projectile vomiting anymore!".  We spent the day sleeping and resting.  Much to my fathers and step moms chagrin, my lil brother Erik (17) took this as a window to stay in with his gf.  Im sure the thought "If tony doesnt have to ski then why do i" went through his brain and he used it to perfection.  He claimed they were not feeling well either and went to her room to "rest and get better".  Im sure they rested up.  

 

By the end of the day Ryan had booked a flight home.  Defeated and dejected Ryan packed his bags and went home early to NYC.  My family had seen him for a total of four hours on the mountain.  I dont think they will ever have him on a family vacation again nor do i think he will ever ski again.  I went to sleep that night tired, weak and a bit bummed but at least my stomach was starting to feel better... that is until the morning time.  I forced myself to ski on the third day for two hours.  With lil food in my system and rather lightheaded from the altitude and numerous drugs i glided down the mountain.  When i arrived home a new ailment had arrived... instead of having problems keeping things down i was now like Ryan, having trouble keeping things up.  The next thirty hours would prove to be the most trying and challenging that my stomach, intestines and ass sphincter would ever endure.  I pissed fire out of my ass, my ass exploded in ways that would rival Gettysburg or Cloverfield.  My waste would change the colors of the spectrum from a mustard yellow to a dark green.  At one point i was glued to the toilet for 45 minutes straight, legs and feet numb, head hanging in my hands, i finally knew what it was like to be in Sub-Saharan Africa.  

 

It is the last day of the trip, we leave tomorrow.  Today i went 17 hours without a bowel movement before finally having a solid one.  I think back at the last few days and what they meant to me.  Good friends, spending time with family and appreciating the lil things in life, like a cell phone with nudie pix on it and solid poop.  (The attached picture is me on the toilet)

Its the lil things that really make life worth living.  

Daydreams

Something about Joni Mitchell makes me feel in love even when i dont have anyone to love... 

Overexposed Images

Sun light through transparent curtains

Rolling in white egyptian cotton sheets

Flowers on window sills

Bare skin

Toothy Smiles and laughter through your nose

Hair ravaged by wrestling

Old wooden floors that creek 

Exposed brick walls

Iron rotating fans that shares the wind once ever five seconds 

Cool tap water in tall glass containers leaving condensation rings on the bedside table

Aged novels near by... 

Its funny when you can imagine the things you want so vividly yet they still dont appear. 

I want to kick your body all over

I was recently dirty texting with a girl friend (Naomi for purpose of the story) of mine.  Back and forth we kept sending naughty messages to one another while i was riding the train back home.  I love dirty texting with Naomi because she has an active imagination and is very kinky thus i am always amused while being turned on.  I will admit that even sometimes i am quite astounded by the things she writes.  I don't know if she would ever even imagine doing half the things that comes across our phones but its fun to read them and on lonely days does the trick.  

But this time specifically i think i took it to a whole different level.  It always starts mildly but heats up rather quickly.  Texts about appearances and kissing shortly thereafter become quite graphic.  I forget exactly what she said but i responded to her with "I want to lick your body all over." I sat there on a packed train glancing over my shoulder, half expecting someone to know but not wanting to be exposed for the pervert that i really am.  Something about engaging in dirty text in a public arena is scintillating.  You are not such a deviant that you are engaging in any physical act open to everyone around you yet you are exercising your hormones discreetly.  I was surprised when she responded "wtf? thats some weird ass kinky shit."  Confused, eyes squinting, neck straining back a little ... i pondered.  Ive seen Naomi type some freaky shit before... believe me, freaky ass shit so i couldn't imagine what she was talking about.  Curious, i went through my sent messages and had seen that the actual text i sent was a misunderstanding via the T9 option on my phone.  Thus instead of typing "lick" i actually wrote "kick".  In actuality i had sent her "I want to kick your body all over."  

A blunder of Atonement proportions.  Certainly i was not confusing graphic letters describing dirty cunts for confessions of love but still, who knows what type of repercussions could have resulted.  Perhaps i finally would have freaked her out.  Perhaps it would have opened up a door to some sexually violently texts discussing slapping, fantasy rape, asphyxiation or something involving 2girls1cup.  But i do have to admit the image of me sitting there kicking her body all over did make me smirk a little and once i explained it to Naomi, she found it entertaining as well.  

 

The Value of a Life

Yesterday i woke up to a world without Heath Ledger.  I know this to be true because within a few minutes of his death around 3.30 est pm i received numerous texts alerting me to the news.  Friends from all over sent me texts, "OMG! Heath Ledger Dead!!!!"  My contacts raced from all over the globe to deliver this bit of information not because i have any affinity for Heath Ledger myself but more because they wanted to be the bearer of breaking news.  Its as if we have become our own news organization with the abilities to email, text, IM, phone (trade) information through various formats at the press of a button. 

So as i awoke and signed on to CNN.com i saw the headlines splattered all over their front page "Heath Ledger Autopsy Inconclusive" accompanied by a handsome picture of the recently deceased.  I though to myself that celebrities who die always have "inconclusive" autopsies.  Its as if no autopsy in the history of celebridom have ever bore immediate results.  Thus now we are sitting on the edge of our seats eagerly awaiting the news, the sequel of Mr. Ledgers Death.

"Stay tuned to see if it was a tragic mistake, a drug overdose, a bad heart"  etc etc... 

Then it dawned on me... This must be considered rather big news for it to be the major headline from all over the world that it landed on the CNN.com.  I then signed on to BBC.co.uk to see what their coverage was like.  Immediately i was bombarded with news regarding the rigged elections in Kenya and ensuing violent demonstrations, violence in the middle east, italian politics, democrats debate in south carolina, sporting news regarding football (soccer) and cricket.  I was beginning to think that the callous international community didn't care about this tragic loss of life.  Considering he is one of theirs, an Aussie, not even and American - i was quite surprised.  Just as i was about to give up, scrolling down various other news feeds, i found what i was looking for; A small headline that read "Memorial: Heath Ledger in Pictures" with a small accompanying thumbnail.  You could only imagine my relief.  The Brits aren't so callous after all. 

So then i wondered... out of all the things going on in out country, in our world, what is it that makes us value the loss of one life as valuable information over the loss of 50 Africans who were most recently burned alive in a church in Kenya?  What makes his death more valuable then a debate amongst our potential national leaders that will hopefully begin to drag us out of the monumental hole that we have dug ourselves in over the last decade? 

There is something to be said for ledgers role in Brokeback Mountain but i think there is something more to be said about us that we value his death more then those numerous deaths in Africa and more importantly those who are still alive and need our help. 

Welcome

Alas i now i have my own blog.  This blog wont be about anything specific.  It will just be me, writing and sharing my thoughts on anything that inspires me to write at that given moment.  It could be politics, sports, creative stories and poetry, sex, culture, arts, friends, personal etc etc... I will not put any limits or boundaries yet instead will embrace the boundless form and hope that some of you will come along for the ride... see you soon