Hotel Sex, Lady Liberty, and Sobriety*

Hey y'all what's up? Believe it or not, I'm glad to be back in Satan's Anus! Not that I didn't have a fuckin' ball in the Apple and the Big Motor, but damn, I was in 3 hotel rooms in 4 days. I'm not used to that shit. I'm not a heavy traveler. But I'mma try to recap in the best way that I can a pretty tight fuckin' weekend.

Lucky Thursday
I'm in Detroit and I don't have tickets to The Roots. My boy Rainier thought I was gonna flake out and not come, so he didn't buy me one. I'm stuck in this long ass, wrapped around the block line for tickets. A scalper walks up, going from person to person trying to sell this ticket. Everybody was coupled up and couldn't use just one ticket. He got the end of the line and there I was ready to buy.

I got out of the long ass ticket line and moved over to the long ass entry line, where they were checkin' Africans for guns and dope and vaginal warts. I gave up and I was gonna go drink somewhere until the line shrank. As I came from around the corner and walked past the entrance to go to a bar, I ran into Allen, my old barber, just as he was approaching the security check. "Cut in here man!" and in I went with no waiting.

Allen and I both had cheap seats, upstairs. We looked over at the floor area and it was being protected by security. I looked again and saw one of my old co-workers from the City of Detroit was working her second job, guarding the floor. "Hey mama!" I'm huggin', flirtin', and shit. They I give it a try. "How can me and my boy get in there?" "Come back a little later." We stood there looking stupid for a minute and then we got waved over. I was 5 feet from the stage for the rest of the night. The Pharcyde, Opio (Souls of Mischief), and The Roots got the fuck off. Talib Kweli was ill and didn't perform. You gotta see The Roots live. That shit is the truth!

Funky Fresh Friday
When I got to NYC, I texted Blah Blah Blah "I'm the Juggernaut, Bitch!" signaling the arrival of the scion of the Zednanreh Empire on solid ground. We hooked up for lunch with that cool African, Will, and kicked it at the South Street Seaport at this Latin themed restaurant. Nice empanadas and liquor. After Will jetted, Blah and I sat there talking shit for so long, it irritated the hell out of the waitstaff. When we finally left we went to my hotel room...

*icky stuff omitted*

Just kidding, y'all.

Anyway I changed, we hooked up with the man they call O to tha N , his cousin and Will again, and we went to this spot called Dewey's where we had the most thickalicious piece of crumpet as a waitress named Tiffany. I knew the night would be good right away.

We got Cocoa Girl (!!!) and Berry (I just found the blog, you can't quit!) as the nearly completed set of bloggers at the spot. I was happy to see everybody, though I didn't get a chance to kick it as much as I wanted with everybody. The spot was too dark to take any usable photos, so I missed that opportunity. While waiting for Slish to show up (even though I was hoping for Slasher) me, Will and ON tried to entertain the ladies with our butter smooth renditions of 80's R&B hits. That mercifully came to an end when Slish and his homey, Spankindatazz, showed up.

If y'all don't know, Slish is like Bad Boy, HE DON'T STOP. That cat don't sit for more than a second, always up, always lively. Slish is the consummate host, making everybody feel cool and included. The shit was bubblin' and I started running out of energy. Between the long night before and the lethal combo of brew and mixed drinks, I had to go lie down. I took the train back to the hotel to sleep.

BlogNic Saturday
So Young Slisher got me on the train, right? And I'm underground in Manhattan, then above ground in the Bronx. The cat is johnny-on-the-spot when it comes to scooping me from the subway stop. He introduces me to Barneys and I understand. I get it, African, OK? Beautiful, smart, and extra cool. I'll stop fuckin' with you about your lovey-dovey ass blog. You win! He then scooped up his boy, Painter, who'll do the cooking, and we're off.

We arrive to see hard working Phoenix and Lightweight, who've been holding it down for hours when we arrived. They are sufficiently irritated with me and Slish doing a half assed job of moving tables around, but I think they got over it. People start arriving and the Slish/Phoenix/Lightweight BBQ event, that was first dubbed as BlogNic by me and later RDNic after I had more alcohol, has begun. This time it wasn't DEEP with bloggers, but next time, I'm thinking we'll have something. There were a gang of people there, families errwhere. It was beautiful.

I believe the order of arrival of bloggers was Chezniki and her homegirl, K., later followed by her sisters, then Royce's Daughter (that's when it became RDNic!) with OneFromPhilly and their girl, B., then PhillyLive (time to blog, brutha). If we could have had both contingencies from both nights together....FORMIDIBLE. It's funny talking about shit with people who you've just met and already have a level of familiarity with you. It makes the initial meeting smooth as hell.

This is already a superlong blog entry, but I have to say I'm selling every one of these people short. I had excellent conversation with each one of the bloggers and the non-bloggers they brought with them. I'd be writing all night long to encompass the good will and genuine enjoyment I had at BlogNic '06. Make sure you check out my Flickr Badge to catch a little glimpse of us holding down FDR Park.

Every person I met over this weekend was cool as fuck. Not a single shitty attitude, not a single negative person. It was one of the best weekends I could have ever spent with people I don't even "really" know. This shit was outstanding.

I still have a gang of shit to write about after I got back from NYC and was holding it down in my old stomping grounds in Detroit.

Sorry about the "Deer" post,
KZ

P.S. *Three things I didn't see in NYC