My NEW alter Ego: Texting Don Juan

Today, the Mizzrus sent me a text. It was an innocent text. All it said was: "I got u chocolate". She texted this to me because the night before, I mentioned that "I sure wish we had some chocolate" ,after dinner. I eat tons of chocolate. Amongst my many other "holic" tendencies, chocoholic is one.

Being the enabler  loving significant other, she usually brings me chocolate.

 Feeling a little "randy", I sent the following reply text:

"[Doc Holliday voice (Val Kilmer-Tombstone)] Oh my, how can I ever repay you??"

She: "You already have Baby..."

Me: "Are you sure you don't require any sexual favors for said deliciousness???" [Still in Doc mode].

The only problem with that response was that I inadvertently sent it to a male co-worker who is a lot higher up the food chain than I am. When I realized my faux pas, I first was shocked. Then I LMAO'd.

[Ricky Ricardo voice] "Lucy..., you got some 'splainin' to do....".

In a stroke of genius. I wondered if I could start "sleeping" my way to the top instead of working my ass off on a daily basis. No more lifting kegs or delivering hundreds of cases of beer to multiple accounts. In short, I was on my way to east street...[and the colored girls go...doop di doop di doop, doop di doop doop di doop di doop...]

Then I thought about it  a minute.

Working + Ass + Male Co-worker = NOT somewhere I'm ready to go just yet EVER!

 Though I'm a "screamer" [heterosexually speaking], I think said scenario would bring my "screaming" to new highs ["Squeal like a pig..., Boy"]. So I immediately sent another text to said co-worker, "sorry, wrong contact", while wondering what the hell he was thinking [and also lamenting my lost promotion & raise].

After I got that mess untangled, I resent the text to the Mizzruz. I hoped that I might peak her curiosity so I could have sex twice in a month instead of the usual one. But my hopes were dashed when I received the following response ...

"Just being in the same room with you is special enough, Baby!"

With my eunuch status intact, I decided my new alter ago of "texting Don Juan" was an Epic Fail.

My third nipple???

The other day, I happened to get off earlier than the Mizzrus. [Not that way Pervs... Off from work earlier!] When she walked in, I was sitting at the computer with "Daddy Juice" at hand wondering what to write about next. I had been starting, stopping, wondering what to write...

She says: "Hey Baby. What cha doin'?"

Me: "Trying to come up with a new blog post".

She: "What ideas do you have so far?"

Me: "Well..., I've got an idea for one I'm calling, 'My Third Nipple'"...

She: "SERIOUSLY!?!?!  What the HELL made you think of THAT? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE  A THIRD NIPPLE!"

Me: "[Sheepishly] I might could have had a third nipple"...

She: But seriously, what made you even think of that"????

Me: "I thought it sounded kinda cool. I certainly wouldn't mind if you had three boobies"...

She: "REALLY??? I mean, REALLY"???

Me: "That doesn't sound cool"???

She: "Tell me again why I said I'd marry you"???

Me: "O.K.. How about: 'And that's when I knew I'd been in the presence of: THE CHUPA CABRA'!!!"

She: "You are 'hung like a flea', and have no money. What the Hell was I thinking"???

Me: "I love you BABY"...

She: [A little less hostile] "I love you too... ASSHOLE"!!! [She always calls me that when she's feelin' all lovey dovey.]

Me: "Baby..., Would you be a 'Lamb' and fix me another 'Daddy Juice'? [O.K., What I REALLY did was loudly shake the cubes in the glass in the hopes she would get the clue that I wanted another drink...]

She: "You rang, my Lord??? [What I heard...] [What she said...] "If you think I'm going to miss one second of this re-run of Sex and the City [that she's seen at least 10 times] to fix you a Damn drink"...

Me: "3-D Porn and 'Fire n' Ice Condoms"???

Me: "My palindrome novel"???

She: "What do you want from me"???

Me: "Baby, I know that you are all 'Sex and the City mode', but I'm dyin' over here"...

She: "Why don't you write about the 'BIG CONSPIRACY' that prevents you from being inducted into the Mensa Society"???

Me: "You know that's a sensitive issue"...

She: "Seinfeld"!

Me: "Seinfield? What the hell does that have to do with a new post"?

She: "Well, he made a whole series about nothing. Don't you think your 'poser ass' [literary genius] could at least write ONE POST ABOUT NOTHING"???

Me: "Baby, I think you might be on to something... I sure do love you"...

She: "I love you too... AASSSHOLE"!!! [She really means it as a term of endearment...]

Nobody told me I was BLACK

O.K., my skin is white, and past lovers won't exactly remember me for my giant schlong [It may be short... But, it's skinny too...] but after watching VH1's "Black to the Future", I am BLACK and didn't realize it till today. Of course, I kinda suspected it for a while now, but now I'm SURE I AM A BLACK MAN. O.K., I suck at Basketball and am not really comfortable with the "N" word, but I don't think that makes me any less BLACK. It wasn't until watching "Black to the Future" 70's, 80's and 90's that I have finally understood who I am. In my defense, I am a product of my upbringing.

One of my earliest memories of going to a live event was seeing the Harlem Globetrotters. I couldn't have been more than 8 or 9, [which makes it '74 or'75] and being amazed. "Wow!!!, I saw these dudes on Scooby Doo". My Mother might have had some of the BLACK in her, [Which is ironic because from what I have heard in family lore, Pop Pop Sipple (Her Dad) could have had a white hood somewhere in his closet.]because the Albums I was weened on by her were the likes of: anything Motown, Stevie Wonder, Isaac Hayes, Earth Wind and Fire, Sister Sledge, and Donna Summer. It was also the age of Disco. So, I also got big doses of the Saturday Night Fever Album, K.C. and the Sunshine Band [who's kinda BLACK] and others. Back then we had three channels if you don't count PBS. [Which I didn't back then] What were the shows that I grew up watching?: Fat Albert [Hey, Hey, Hey], Good Times [DY-NO-MITE!!!], The Jeffersons [Weezy...], The White Shadow ['nuff said], What's Happening [Ooh Rog, you gonna GET IT!] [Don't tell me that if you are in your mid 40's, you never tried to dance like Rerun],Benson, and Different Strokes [What chu talkin' bout WILLIS!]  As I got older, what family didn't watch the ENTIRE week of Roots? Remember the A-Team? I was torn between Mr. T's character of B.A. and Howlin' Mad Murdoch. [Which I now know is]One to celebrate my BLACKNESS, and the other to recognize my current state of mental health. Later, I watched Family Matters. Steve Urkel, saying "Did I doo thaat" is classic. [Be honest, at least ONCE in your life, you have "hiked your pants/underwear up" and asked that question to bewildered friends or significant other.] I identified most with Isaac, the Bartender, on the Love Boat. [I don't know if that was more because of my BLACKNESS, or my future affinity towards Bartenders. It could also be a foreshadowing of my future alcohol dependence. But that is another story...] Then came In Living Color ["Homey don't PLAY DAT!", "'toin... Don't be MAAD..."], The Cosby Show, and Martin[Sha Nae Nae].

I know I wasn't the ONLY one to see a "Spike Lee Joint". Do the Right Thing, Jungle Fever, ring a bell? Colors, Boyz in the Hood. [Damn! I never realized how gansta I was back then.]I was in to all of that. My record collection from my teenage years: Rick James, Cameo, Gap Band, Lakeside, Sugarhill Gang, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Kool and the Gang and The New Edition.[Ronnie, Bobbie, Ricky, and Mike....] In junior high, to be cool, we added "-ski or -D" to the end of our names. Hence forth I was known as Rob-Ski, and me and my "posse" were about the most fly, fresh, def, dope, and phat, mutha fuckas in Sanford, NC. [Brick Capital of the World]

I used to make t-shirts in JR. and SR. High to make extra money. Through a weird set of circumstances [having to do nothing with my "mad" gansta street cred.] I got connected with Sammie D. He was a D.J. and owner of a club called "Diamond D's". He wanted some T-shirts designed for his club, and I presented some ideas to him. Long story short, he liked them, and we started a business arrangement. After about my second delivery of shirts to him, he said, "Hey R.J. [I was keeping my "gangsta-ness" on the D.L.] why don't you come down to the club on Thurs., it's teen night." "Sure Sammy. I'll see you then..." . Not really thinking about it, I went. I did not realize when I walked into the club, that other than teeth and eyeballs, I was the only "white thing" in the club.

At first I was trepidatious  [Scared as Hell]. I just knew some guy was going to start some static about me being "whitey" in their club.  Then I'd have to get all "gangsta", whip out my "gat", and "pop a cap" in someone's ass. [Get my ass kicked, and my Mom may, or may not be able to identify the body] But it was cool. The guys were cool, and the girls[when they found out I could dance] had my "Dance Card" full until it was time for the "After Party" [Had to leave to meet curfew...] I should have embraced my BLACKNESS even then, but I didn't. An obsession with the Arsenio Hall Show [Roo Roo Roo...] still didn't clue me in. "Whoop, there it is...", "This is how we do it...", and "Are you down with O.P.P..." didn't clue me in either.  [though the O.P.P was what helped end my first marriage(Whole other Post...)]

All of that from my past, and it wasn't until I watched "Black to the Future" [70's, 80's AND 90's] that I realized that I AM A BLACK MAN [without the basketball skills or penis]. And all this time, I thought I was a VODKA swillin', apartment dwellin', Copenhagen dippin', country music listenin', truck driver, from Eastern NC. Who knew...

Me, after a long day of "rollin'" beer. A couple of vodka drinks, some dinner, Copenhagen [Note: the "fat bottom lip"] and he's outta heeere... [Can't decide if that's more Pimpin' or Gangsta]

Blog 2.0. Thank you Aunt Becky and Jerry Maguire

I awoke this morning at 2 a.m. with a dilemma. I hadn't written anything in my blog for quite some time due to a crisis of conscience. I didn't know what my "voice" was, or what to write about. Be funny? Be serious? Cussing? No cussing? Friends and family who have read previous posts had comments ranging from "I didn't know you were so political...", to "It was funny but not you". [Not that I'm not funny, they just knew I took a bit of "poetic license" with certain aspects.] I have been stressing about how to write my blog and from what viewpoint for about 2 weeks now. Luckily for me, I found Aunt Becky about two weeks ago. I can't really remember what led me to her, but I do know as I was surfing around I saw a Blog that was titled "Mommywantsvodka". Being a big fan, [of Vodka that is] I decided to "click the link". I was immediately drawn to her wit, and "rawness". To put it succinctly, "the Bitch ROCKED!!!" Being new to blogging, I thought , "Now that is someone to emulate". Maybe I could be... Dare I say... an "Uncle Becky"??? Then I re-thought the first thought, and thought, "I'm not that talented", and besides, the first thought was kinda "FUCKED UP"! [Besides, to be as prolific as she is, one would need minions to do her bidding, and I have no minions] Regardless, I am now , stalking following her on Twitter, Facebook, and her Blog. So, I woke up at 2 a.m. this morning being all "whaa whaa", I SUCK!!! "No more blogging for me..." "I have no Fucking VOICE or POINT OF VIEW"!!! "whaa whaa..." Then, THE Epiphany Hit. [CUE Hallelujah Chorus]"I DON'T WRITE FOR OTHERS. I WRITE TO GET SHIT OUT OF MY HEAD"!!! It makes me feel better. Aunt Becky has shown me this! So I lay there thinking about this for about 30 minutes before I decided to get up and do something about it.

The mizzrus rolled over and said, "Baby, It's 2:30. You gettin' up?" [She's Southern, by the way...] To which I replied, "I know baby, I've been up since 2:00, and can't sleep. I'm going to get up. By the way, I've got my new blog post. I think I'm gonna call it 'Aunt Becky Ate My Balls'." [Fortunately, the lights were off so I could not see her face, but what I did get was a big sigh, a roll over and what I imagine to be her asking..."And why again did I consent to marry this 'nut job'???"] Being on a mission, I rushed downstairs to my "office", my Sanctum Sanctorum [A.K.A. the guest bathroom], fired up the laptop, grabbed one of the many  legal pads and started furiously writing. It was then, I got all "Jerry Maguire" and started the "MANIFESTO"!!!! 

I WRITE BECAUSE IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER

I DONT'T CARE IF I HAVE FOLLOWERS

I DON'T CARE HOW MANY HITS I GET

IT'S O.K. TO USE PROFANITY

SOME WILL LOVE IT. SOME WILL HATE IT. GET OVER IT.

I WILL DO NO OTHER PROMOTION OTHER THAN WHATEVER NETWORKED BLOGS DOES.

I took a break, and consulted the ORACLE. This what I found: LINK. It offered a lot of good advice.  I now felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I went to work. Ideas flowed. A new sense of purpose was growing. The day went quicker. The work seemed easier. It was Shaping up to be a good day "Tater".

Later in the day, I checked Twitter. Aunt Becky had a new post almost 6 hours after my Manifesto. "Six Ways To A Better Blog". Oh my God. Somehow this "Angel" [Patron Saint???] of Blogs has somehow read my mind. She knows my trepidation, my angst, she can read my mind. [Damn, tinfoil hat time...]  The BITCH can see right through me, yet, I am oddly comforted by this thought. So, to end. Thank You Aunt Becky for showing this Grasshopper that there is a Pebble to grab. Regardless of your influence, or my Manifesto, future Blog Posts, may still SUCK ASS, but I'm still going to Blog HARD!!! P.S. Since I referenced Jerry Maguire: YOU HAD ME AT "Juice Boxes Are For Pussies"rj3