This is why I’ve been gone for so long.

I Live For the Weekend pt.2

EEP BREATH:

Saturday takes a small hit to Friday, but is still quite eventful.  I meet up with my friends at the Mountain, again.  I inform them that I want real beer so we head to the local brewery.  I order two of the house brews, chug them like water after walking through the Sahara, while allowing my salmon to marinate in it while sloshing it around in my pie hole.  We then head out to the Auburn Street festival A.K.A. the biggest Lil’ Jon video shoot ever.  The hood definitely showed up this day.  I’m not bourgeois or anything, I just believe people should have standards about themselves.  It was good to have that experience. We poked fun at people, especially the numerous people that were passed out in the middle of the street.  I headed home, changed and went to House nightclub where my prophyte was hosting the party.  FREE .99.  I was approached by this older woman in white who looked pretty good but scared me because I saw her dancing and it looks like she had popped a pill or two.  In my experiences with these women who are on that drug, I can’t get them off of me.  I literally have to pass them off to the next dancer.  I do the little side bump thing with my hips and keep it moving.  After I sobered up a bit, I realized that none of the women in that club were cute.  Being a man of standards, I made my way out of the door.  My Line Brother that I was with and I decided to go to another b’day party for a female who graduated with his class.  We get in there and there is a mix of individuals who attended/attend Morehouse or Spelman..  Mind you, the bday girl is beautiful.  For instance, if she would ever call me to take care of her, I would give up all my worldly possessions to do so. The birthday girl is apart of a particular organization on Spelman’s campus that I just don’t get.  They just have a different culture.  I respect the fact that they have one, but not if it’s at the expense of certain natural behaviors.  Realizing that they girls are going to rub up on each other all night, we head out after only maybe 13 minutes and head home.  Thank God for Sade on the ride home because she peacefully put a brother to sleep when I hit that hay.  The next day, I had to go to church for all my moral dilemmas I was having.  I forgot that it was Mother’s day and I kind of felt slighted on the sermon but I do miss my momma.  I then head to check out my new apartment that is way swankier than the pictures can vouch for.   Deposit paid, waiting on the owner to hand me the keys.  Ladies, prepare to be moist when you walk in those doors.  My overall lesson for this weekend is umm….I don’t really have one.  Just live life.    

I Live For the Weekend

Wow.  I’m going to try my best to write about my past weekend without pronouncing the amount of negative attitudes and/or positive ones that resonated throughout it.  It all started out last Friday (Yes I include Friday in my weekend, such is my life) when a group of friends and I decided to go to our favorite cheap bar, Rocky Mountain.  The name of the bar pretty much sums up the experience.  I decided not to drink that day because of the onslaught of poison (Grilled chicken x beer x alcohol x a “real” ass game of Questions) that infested my body the night before during a S^weet and NASTY affair at the crib.  After running up close to a $400 tab and staying for an extra hour trying to figure it out, we finally made our way to my friend Amber’s house. Ok, I lied.  I decided to drink.  I bought a bottle of 99 Apples and proceeded to take shots of it while it was mixed with the bubbly goodness of raspberry ginger ale. Between the constant swigs of Corona Light (wtf?!?) and the spades game with the “_reds” vs. the BluE, an argument erupted outside.  The topic of the argument was soon to be discovered as something related to Greek life.  A topic, which has been faded by my interest because I am only concerned with the overall goal of my founders, not the differences between those who are Greek and those who are not.  After de-escalating that little rodeo, it was back to the socializing which included my favorite personality trait, my swag.  I spotted the cutest stranger I could find and started to make conversation.  Come to find out, she already knew me and is good friends with another friend.  I didn’t remember her though.  Apparently she met me while I was puking my brains out during homecoming last year.  After having a short conversation with her I walk inside to find a homosexual male on top of another male that is passed out while his friend is trying to pull him off, probably for the sake of saving his reputation, but clearly it was obvious based on his behavior.  It became blatantly obvious about his sexual orientation when prior to almost raping another male, he was outside, joined the conversation I was having with the cute “stranger” and called me cute.  Now I could’ve kicked his ass but fuck it, I’m not with too much drama so I excused it with a simple thank you.  After his “gay” encounter I quickly pull my neo out of the building for his sake and headed outside to meet one of my other neos.  While standing outside, he asks me for $5 and I since I’m a generous guy I hand him a dub.  I wait on him for twenty minutes and head inside to look for him and ask him for my change.  He accuses me of only giving him a five-dollar bill.  Lie.  Now, given my history with associating with street pharmacists, being an accounting major and certain natural abilities I have with numbers, I believe I was right.  We get into a shouting match outside and I am pulled away to my car where as soon as I turn around in it, another fight escalates between gay guy and one of my neos.  Apparently, gay guy was going to hit me in the back while I was walking away and my neo was going to swing on him before he was caught by my other neo.  Head to the Ace club’s crib, cool off.  While  there, two members of another organization come in to achieve the history book standings I have in the game of Taboo.  Ask about me, I am Emperor.  I go talk to one of them and she informs me that her night, and possibly mines as well, will be more interesting if she had a little “get rid of my inhibitions” liquid in her body.  Thinking I have a move for the night I head back over to the last spot to pick up the 99 Apples.  When I head back to my neo’s apartment all hell has broken loose.  To turn the tables, it was all about a boy.  I raise my pimp cup to that guy.  Girls trying to fight girls are always a classic.  In the middle of the melee I head back out because I have to go pick up my Line Brother from the airport.    After dropping him off at another Line Brother’s house I head to go meet my other Line Brothers to go to the Geisha House.  We walk in there for free.  I haven’t paid for a party since the beginning of parties or paying for them.  The environment in there is what I need to surround myself with 24/7.  I mean video girl quality girls, liquor, and a trendy setting with pretty decent music.  We dance around with the girls we met up with, take some tequila shots and then head out the greatest of all establishments, the Waffle House.  One of the girls is passed out and my Line Brothers shoulder is kept company by her resting face.  We finally leave there and I head home after dropping off the back of my line at their respective places of residence.  Gas gone, fuck.  That concludes my Friday, whew. 

9th

I’m someone that doesn’t wear their heart on their sleeve.  It takes a lot of assumption and asking to really figure out what’s going on in my tiny head.  Half the time, I really don’t even know.  I have so many conflicting feelings it’s hard to tell what exactly is going on.  I was told not to give in. Unfortunately, I did.  Now I think it’s going to turn out bad.  I’m so conflicted that I still see the light as well.  I’m scared to ask for guidance because I don’t want anyone to know.  I’m talking about a lot of things here not just the obvious.  It makes me scared, but optimistic.  Fuck, there I go again.  Why did I have to know and experience so much?  I was never told how, only what.  I know where I want to be, damnit I don’t.  Logic is my downfall, and true ethics will be my 9th symphony. 

A Broken Record

I was on the “Yard” the other day kicking it with old chums and it seemed as though I was still on repeat mode.  What I mean by this is that I felt myself doing the same actions, saying the same things and interacting with people in the same manner that I always have done over the past four and a half years.  When on campus people seemed to be concerned with only a few things and conversation starters usually begin with:

 

1)  Seeing someone from your major:  ”Hey have you seen (insert professor name here)?  I’ve been looking for them all day?”  or “Did you go to class today?”

2) Walking out the cafe:  ”Anything good in there today?”  or “Fried Chicken Wednesday, hell yeah!”

3) Just seeing people:  ”What u up to man?”  ”Shit, just trying to make it up out this bitch.”

4) “What’s the move for this weekend?”  or after the weekend “I just got fucked up?”

 

Yea, that pretty much sums up the basic interaction with the men of Morehouse.

Music Vol. 1

            I hadn’t realized how much I loved music until I went to the Kanye West Concert.  Every aspect of this pure emotional art form is something that is taken in awe based on my personal experience.  From lyrics, beats, blending genres, live performances, and everything in between that produces melodies translated by my ears, I love.  Shit, even the drunk fans.  After waiting for my friend for an hour until her dress dried, (yes, I said waiting for an hour until her dress dried) and unintentionally burning one of her straps (sorry), we were on our way to the concert, and found a pretty decent parking spot.  We grabbed a couple cocktails and headed towards our seats, which were great.  Fuck, I missed Lupe.  I missed Lupe but he made a guest appearance at the end to do “Touch the Sky” and he completely busted his ass on stage hard, but kept rapping.  Ok, hurry up Pharell and Rihanna.

            Kanye’s set was amazing.  You can tell the designers put a lot of times into developing the set and lighting.  It was a made for TV show.  If you glanced at the screen and saw the full stage with him on it, you could’ve mistaken him for being at Madison Square Garden.  As a result of Kanye’s antics on stage, we deemed that he’s not a crackhead, just very crackish.  He’s got to be on something because no natural high can make you act like that.  His parents met at Clark Atlanta he said which is kind of cool.  

            Music to me can inspire so much emotion. Music inspires indirect and direct emotion. Seeing an artist put all of theirs in their music is inspiring.  That is Kanye.  He’s an artist who isn’t scared to be who he is on his music.  Ok, I’m not a K. West groupie, but I can appreciate good music.  I saw my friend tonight take a pause while a particular song was on and you can tell she had thoughts on her mind.  Music does that.  A lot of times I can empathize with what’s going on in a song and if I’ve never been there before I’m glad I got that perspective.  I love music and will forever continue to as long as I have ears to hear.  Sorry, a lot of random thoughts in this last paragraph that don’t string together but it’s late.    

 

:), :-)

“Smiley faces at the end of her phrases.  Either she’s the one or I’m caught in the matrix.”

 

My line brother John and I were having a conversation about females as is customary before heading out on our separate missions for the night.  As I chatted away on the phone to a particular female more concerned about my drunken state and my safety rather than getting some top for the night, John texted another more concerned with something else.  He showed me the texts which ended in the smiley face, which i took as programming code at first because that’s what I was used to seeing over the past 3 months (and I was drunk because I made a deal that for every 5 points the hawks scored in the 4th quarter, I would buy a round of shots..dumbest idea ever), until I realized what it actually was.  We then chatted about how a female might send you that and you can take it as too much.  You know the old “give an inch, take a mile” adage.  However, the next morning I received two different texts both with smiley faces at the end.  Running the fastest mile ever in 10 seconds, I drew some conclusions.  You can say I was temporarily sold a dream but then I realized that it’s almost impossible to interpret emotions electronically and since it was early in the morning still, I deleted them.  That also brings me to another thought.  How much can expressions of emotion be found within actions such as a text, email, facebook wall post, etc.?  Somewhere down the line, it will have to be verbalized whether it be good or bad.  Communication is key.  Damn I’m a hypocrite.  

Why? The hood needs sun.

On my recent expedition to the strip club, I’ve noticed one thing that I’m not too fond of.   There are a lot of things that I am VERY fond of too.  That thing being its unsanitary environment, and that reason becomes a very important factor in a very tough decision I have made.  I have decided to never step foot into the Blue Flame, Pin-Ups, Magic/Queen City, etc. any more.  Now it’s not because I’m worried so much about the “employees” health but rather my very expensive clothes.  See, when you give little Abraham to Ecstasy or “Michelle” they have a tendency to get a little close.  In their mind, they’re thinking that a little bit more contact leads to a couple more dollars.  That’s ok, that’s just business.  However, when there are numerous strippers that I fall in love with and decide to hand them the man that set us free, then it becomes a problem.  I feel like I dress nice.  Semi-flashy but what I feel comfortable in.  Now these girls get naked, I mean NAKED as soon as you insert the bill facing up.  Not only do they rub up on you but also all their “skin” mixes together like a shot of Jack Daniels and Makers Mark and eventually onto my clothes.  The last time I went to the strip club I had on a $75 shirt and a pair of jeans that cost close to $250.  The jeans I had on are recommended that they not be washed.  Fuck that now.  Into the washing machine they go.  And now, they’ll never feel the same.  It might seem a little selfish but fuck that, I like the way I look and the quality of the clothes I wear more than how much I like to see ass bouncing like waves coming in on the Northern Shore of Oahu.  Life is all about sacrifices, plus the hood needs sun.  I like to crumple my dollars up and throw them.  “Make it Hail!!!”  It never hails in the hood.  

ahhhh….heart beats.

If pronouncing your love for someone was this easy and simple, the world would be a greater place.

 

It’s 3:17 in the AM and I’m writing about this.  BLAH.  Juno is probably the funniest movie I’ve seen since Superbad.