$2 to fxck up a toilet!


the pentagon city bally total fitness was packed like a mofo today – so i went in and out and probably gonna work out after i submit this blog…here at home.
but i really really really had to use the bathroom (number one).
so what do i do? i carry my ass into subway and start flirting with Namita, the indian sub maker & cashier so i wouldn’t have to buy shxt to use their bathroom. but it didn’t work. they must not really like black men. hahaha.
she made me buy the $2 orange juice.

but the time i got in the bathroom though, number one turned into number two.
after all the toilet paper and paper towels it took to sanitize the toilet seat with the bottle of bleach they keep beside the toilet, and the shxt on top of all that – the toilet was stopped up and almost overflowing.

FXCK YOU SUBWAY FOR CHARGING ME $2 TO TAKE A SHXT!

and i walked out with a drunken smile on my face, hoping no one was waiting on the other side of the door to get in. that would have been a real walk of shame. but a walk of relief, too!

—–
sidenote: i would completely understand if my boy frento (@f3burton on twitter) purchased a kalashnikov and unloaded on the kids of dc. they broke into his car twice. “the children of the corn” he calls them:

—–


so we had a conversation:

they said: “the thing about icebergs is you only see 10% of them.”
i chimed in: “the thing about 90% of our so-called friends is we only see 10% of them”

and the sad things is, the part we see isn’t the part that grows.
and by grow, i mean progress.
so we leave them behind.
some of us cross the bridge and burn it once we’re across.
some of us cross slowly, hoping they’ll catch up before we’re completely over it.
and some of us never cross it, and remain bound with them.

the thing about bridges is they are never to be burned. we always leave something on the other side that we may want to retrieve, and not many of us have the abilities of mcguyver or indiana jones.

—–

one thing i hate (and after i state this, i will be done with it: an ignorant person. look at this fucking tattoo. this dumb b*tch got me cussing)

there are three things i hate doing:

1. sleeping: i don’t know why. those who know me know that i get very little. probably the minimum required for living. lately i’ve been staying up til 6am or 7am and waking up around 10am. it’s the life i lead, i guess. one of the reasons i hate when people say “there aren’t enough hours in the day.”

2. peeing: it just seems so unnecessary. i don’t know why really. i mean, i know whe gotta pee, but i feel like there are better things i could be doing. i usually fxck around and wait hours to pee, so by the time i go, i stand there for about 2 minutes pissing. hahahaha.

3. going to the gas station: DAMN! where are the homeless gas pumpers when you need them?

—–

side note: ladies, remember: good pu**y will get your rent paid. good head will get you a mortgage.

—–

am i the only one that wouldn’t be surprised if we found out that abdulmutallab was a decoy put in place by the u.s. government? i mean, doesn’t it seem too easy. some manchurian candidate type shit.
just like the soldier that let loose.
machurian type shit.

and i stood in line in rite aid buy my skittles and there was the newsweek cover.
“the children of bin laden”

why can’t he just be mad at the way shit is going in detroit?

dear government: get the fuck outta here with that bullshit.
i mean – i am a conspiracy theorist, but i do not believe it.

other shit i don’t really believe:

-they never really caught saddam. that was just some look alike. all that power that sonofabitch had and the u.s. soliders caught him in a hole?

-ain’t nobody ever in their life been to the the moon. who calculated how much gas was needed to go? what soundstage did you use, you lying sonsofwhores?

-911 was planned without the help of the american government. YOU KNOW THE U.S. HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT. NOTHING CAN HAPPEN TO THE USE THAT WE DON’T ALLOW TO HAPPEN. BELIEVE THAT!!!

—–

and j. sills (@pnoty) is getting married next weekend.
wow.

this was my roommate & prophyte and now he’s playing his card & sneakers on the alter and making that promise.
and guess who’s in the wedding.
me!

in the crisp tux with the crimson vest looking like an open casket funeral.
in my head will be the international player’s anthem.
and on my face will be a smile to warm the heart of the women in the audience with their eyes on me.

a day to celebrate alright!
woo!

—–

and speaking of the bathrooms (not really):
fellas…if there are three urinals and someone is at the one on the end – take your mothereffing ass to the other end.
do NOT occupy that middle urinal.
it makes us uncomfortable.
—–

you all know i’ve been transforming my closet.
almost all the bullshit 2007-2009 clothes are gone
and i’m on the the new shit.

and i’m not for becoming a walking billboard for eurotrash like some of the folks i follow on twitter or accept on facebook who change their names to vuitton, gucci or louboutin.
naw…that ain’t me.
but if that’s you…(clap for ’em).

i’m all about the good stuff. the independent creative stuff. the stuff that starts revolutions!

Check Out MY BROTHER cory townes & BABYLON CARTEL:
CLICK HERE FOR THE MOVEMENT




—–

and i end with this:

if you take relationship advice from steve harvey- you are a fool.

the end.

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