Trials and tribulations are really underrated. We're in misery as we go through them, but the things we learn about ourselves and others are invaluable. That shit becomes ingrained in your DNA and you pass it down to your children and they to theirs.
It is only through our trials and tribulations that we come to understand what it really means to suffer, and what is tolerable; what is reasonable or unreasonable; what is sustainable and non-sustainable; what's good and what's REALLY GOOD. What are you really willing to do to keep your misery to a minimum? What are you really ready to give up for the good of the collective? If you've never had to give up shit, or have barely seen what misery looks like, you'll be willing to stand your ground on the most minuscule compromise. You'll hold on to a "principle" that's really just a manifestation of stubbornness. If you really haven't gone through shit, it'll look reasonable to you.
Some fears are healthy and others irrational, but we pass them all down through our teachings and through our actions. We are always being watched by the ones we love. Everytime we think something is enough, we'll learn the world doesn't work that way. You always have to fuel the machine, to feed the beast.
Some muthafuckas are determined never to learn Lesson One.
Peace,
KZ
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Fed
This is how you know it's some shit in the game. I was late for work today. I was about an hour late. I have to arrive at work at 8:00 am. I woke up at 4:00 am, it takes me about 30 minutes to get ready, and my drive to work is only about 15 minutes. How was I late? I sat down and watched TV for four hours this morning, trying to make myself get up and go to work. I finally got there at 8:45.
I couldn't figure out what suit to wear, either. I desperately wanted to put on a polo shirt and some khakis. I didn't wanna put on a suit.
I know what it is. This is that same shit that manifests itself everytime I'm done.
I don't have the capacity to care about work anymore. Not that I ever really did, but now it's showing itself in the most visually obvious ways. I'm half-shaving, not really combing my dome, shoes unshined, ties not matching, office in disarray. I'm just fucking here. Until I'm not here.
Basically just breathing.
KZ
I couldn't figure out what suit to wear, either. I desperately wanted to put on a polo shirt and some khakis. I didn't wanna put on a suit.
I know what it is. This is that same shit that manifests itself everytime I'm done.
I don't have the capacity to care about work anymore. Not that I ever really did, but now it's showing itself in the most visually obvious ways. I'm half-shaving, not really combing my dome, shoes unshined, ties not matching, office in disarray. I'm just fucking here. Until I'm not here.
Basically just breathing.
KZ
Friday, August 15, 2008
A Random List
- Much like Alicia Bridges, I too like the nightlife. I too like to boogie.
- Hey, bitches: stop borrowing each other's pants! And stop charging money for people to watch that shit.
- I've never wanted to start smoking again like I did when I watched those cats smoke that "cross joint" in Pineapple Express.
- I'm no longer in a position to rail against stupidity. I've met the enemy, and he is me.
- I love being left alone. People really get mad at you when you don't "bother" them for long stretches of time. I wouldn't be offended, but my friends are salty.
- I should be in NYC hangin' with Miss Ahmad. I really should.
- I need some fucking perks. Somethin'.
- Gotdamn, hip hop sucks.
- I have sent out resumes almost every day for 3 months. I haven't had a single fucking call or interview in that time. Not one. Man, fuck.
- Oreos, muthafucka.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Malnutrition
My ego is pretty big. Most of the time, I try to be self-deprecating just so I'll come off as less of an asshole, but really I think pretty highly of myself. Sometimes it's hard to come to grips with the reality that maybe, just maybe, you're not all that you think you are to all people.
Case in point, we're in the middle of planning this wedding. I'm not so much into the wedding thing, but I'm in the "go along to get along" phase. Whatever'll make this thing go, I'm with it. Everybody in the world knows that a woman's wedding is something she's thought about and pictured for many, many years. She has a vision and she'll try to match that vision the best way she can. Everybody in and around the wedding have been selected for years in advance. Everybody except the groom, that is. That's the interchangeable piece. The groom is just whatever African happened to pop the question. The wedding doesn't change one iota to fit a groom's personality or ideals. Most dudes laugh that shit off. I did as well. It got less funny the more I thought about it though, a lot less funny. That's ego.
This could very well be Joe, Jake, or Johnny's wedding. One monkey don't stop no show. Who gives a fuck who the groom is?
In the meantime I gotta get pep talks from my biggest fans (my mother and Three) just to keep my ego fed. That's kinda fucked up, but it's true.
This wedding thing is like a force of nature. I'mma go find some shelter.
Peace,
KZ
Case in point, we're in the middle of planning this wedding. I'm not so much into the wedding thing, but I'm in the "go along to get along" phase. Whatever'll make this thing go, I'm with it. Everybody in the world knows that a woman's wedding is something she's thought about and pictured for many, many years. She has a vision and she'll try to match that vision the best way she can. Everybody in and around the wedding have been selected for years in advance. Everybody except the groom, that is. That's the interchangeable piece. The groom is just whatever African happened to pop the question. The wedding doesn't change one iota to fit a groom's personality or ideals. Most dudes laugh that shit off. I did as well. It got less funny the more I thought about it though, a lot less funny. That's ego.
This could very well be Joe, Jake, or Johnny's wedding. One monkey don't stop no show. Who gives a fuck who the groom is?
In the meantime I gotta get pep talks from my biggest fans (my mother and Three) just to keep my ego fed. That's kinda fucked up, but it's true.
This wedding thing is like a force of nature. I'mma go find some shelter.
Peace,
KZ
Thursday, July 31, 2008
When Has It Ever Worked?
"Hey baby, why you lookin' so mean?"
Muthafuckas make me laugh. Game is a lost art. I used to have it. I haven't had it in a minute or two. I don't need it now, but damn, it would be nice to have.
"You lookin' good girl!"
I'll bet she is, fella. I'll bet she is. But is yelling that as she strides purposefully with her 5 friends to get in line for this party gonna get her to stop? Nope. Next time try laying a 10 dollar bill in the street and saying "Miss, you dropped this!"
My boy Three told me something a long time ago that makes all the sense in the world. I don't know if it really works, because I'd only tried it with female friends and not "prospects". He said "Compliment a woman the way another woman would and she'll be more responsive." He didn't say it quite like that, because Three is kinda illiterate, but you get the idea. "I like your shoes." "I like that color on you." Instead of "DAMN, you got a big ole ass!", which was my preferred expression. I really gotta ask Three if his bullshit method ever worked.
"Ay, sweetheart, lemme holla at you a minute."
Probably the most subtle shit I've heard today. It's not overly aggressive but it's still pretty ignorant. If she stops, you got an even shot. If not? Sucks to be you. I say work on your shit a little more and come back a little harder than that.
My shit was always situational. I had these scenarios worked out for all these different situations. If she's standing here, then I'll comment on that. If she's doing that, I'll do this and then we'll cross paths. It's laughable that shit that worked well.
To the cats that still think this shit is fun, I salute you. But you gotta fuckin' do better than this!
Peace,
KZ
Muthafuckas make me laugh. Game is a lost art. I used to have it. I haven't had it in a minute or two. I don't need it now, but damn, it would be nice to have.
"You lookin' good girl!"
I'll bet she is, fella. I'll bet she is. But is yelling that as she strides purposefully with her 5 friends to get in line for this party gonna get her to stop? Nope. Next time try laying a 10 dollar bill in the street and saying "Miss, you dropped this!"
My boy Three told me something a long time ago that makes all the sense in the world. I don't know if it really works, because I'd only tried it with female friends and not "prospects". He said "Compliment a woman the way another woman would and she'll be more responsive." He didn't say it quite like that, because Three is kinda illiterate, but you get the idea. "I like your shoes." "I like that color on you." Instead of "DAMN, you got a big ole ass!", which was my preferred expression. I really gotta ask Three if his bullshit method ever worked.
"Ay, sweetheart, lemme holla at you a minute."
Probably the most subtle shit I've heard today. It's not overly aggressive but it's still pretty ignorant. If she stops, you got an even shot. If not? Sucks to be you. I say work on your shit a little more and come back a little harder than that.
My shit was always situational. I had these scenarios worked out for all these different situations. If she's standing here, then I'll comment on that. If she's doing that, I'll do this and then we'll cross paths. It's laughable that shit that worked well.
To the cats that still think this shit is fun, I salute you. But you gotta fuckin' do better than this!
Peace,
KZ
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Childlike Wonder
As jaded as I am, I'm still amazed by many things in this world. Most of my amazement stems at how stupid people are, so I'm not sure that counts. All I know is people in general are stupid and/or ballsy.
John Edwards was running for President. He was my preferred candidate, because of his ideas on health care reform. You see, that's my big issue. People have to stick with shitty gigs because they need the health care. I think people are happier and, of course, healthier, if getting health care wasn't dependent on the beneficence (or lack thereof) of industry. Chase your dreams and fuck the benefits package.
John Edwards has been fucking around on his wife. Once again, I'm not amazed, but this shit is SOOOO blatant, and has been talked about in hushed tones for the entire campaign, I couldn't believe it's just now getting run. That's not even the half. This muthafucka made a baby with the mistress.
If he was ever gonna get back in the saddle for that number 2 slot, it's effectively done. Thanks, Haircut.
I've talked about running for office, but my skeletons run deep. After this shit, my little skeletons seem like a single bone (literally!!!). The more politicians fuck up on a large scale, my shit looks more and more petty.
I'm counting on more amazing displays of stupidity. It keeps me young.
KZ
John Edwards was running for President. He was my preferred candidate, because of his ideas on health care reform. You see, that's my big issue. People have to stick with shitty gigs because they need the health care. I think people are happier and, of course, healthier, if getting health care wasn't dependent on the beneficence (or lack thereof) of industry. Chase your dreams and fuck the benefits package.
John Edwards has been fucking around on his wife. Once again, I'm not amazed, but this shit is SOOOO blatant, and has been talked about in hushed tones for the entire campaign, I couldn't believe it's just now getting run. That's not even the half. This muthafucka made a baby with the mistress.
If he was ever gonna get back in the saddle for that number 2 slot, it's effectively done. Thanks, Haircut.
I've talked about running for office, but my skeletons run deep. After this shit, my little skeletons seem like a single bone (literally!!!). The more politicians fuck up on a large scale, my shit looks more and more petty.
I'm counting on more amazing displays of stupidity. It keeps me young.
KZ
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Let's All Be Dumb
My assistant sent out an email yesterday reminding the secretaries to watch their timeliness when arriving at work, that the public expects them to be there at the reception desk at 8:00 am. My secretary sent him a scathing reply, telling him she didn't like being included in an email admonishing bad behavior, especially since she wasn't a tardy person EVER.
She told me about the email she sent back to my assistant. I asked her why she sent it. She told me that she didn't like being included in the email. I told her it was a blanket email and that she should disregard anything that didn't apply to her. She was beside herself with anger. The ideal that someone would impugn her good name by including her on that email. No one sends her emails that commend her on coming in early. The nerve of us!!! Crazy bitch.
There's this cat in the town over that's just running through hoes, one after the other, just bangin' 'em out. The women are enthralled because he's got a lot of style and he's a DOCTOR!!! OMG, a single black doctor! Wait, you say he's a chiropractor? So he's only a "doctor". They are impressed by a gotdamn "doctor". He might as well be a cop or a cashier. Fucking lunatics.
This place in general makes me wanna take my life with a bullet to the temple. Just blow my own fucking head clean off.
KZ
She told me about the email she sent back to my assistant. I asked her why she sent it. She told me that she didn't like being included in the email. I told her it was a blanket email and that she should disregard anything that didn't apply to her. She was beside herself with anger. The ideal that someone would impugn her good name by including her on that email. No one sends her emails that commend her on coming in early. The nerve of us!!! Crazy bitch.
There's this cat in the town over that's just running through hoes, one after the other, just bangin' 'em out. The women are enthralled because he's got a lot of style and he's a DOCTOR!!! OMG, a single black doctor! Wait, you say he's a chiropractor? So he's only a "doctor". They are impressed by a gotdamn "doctor". He might as well be a cop or a cashier. Fucking lunatics.
This place in general makes me wanna take my life with a bullet to the temple. Just blow my own fucking head clean off.
KZ
Monday, July 21, 2008
It's Movietime Again!
Yo, I went to the movies this weekend and I had a lot of fun. That's pretty unusual for me. I hate theaters and sticky floors (self-created floors excluded) but I had a lot of fun sitting in darkness for 2+ hours watching Batman Gets His Ass Acted Off The Screen By A Dead Guy. Seriously, fuck hype, but He.ath Le.dger Deserves the next Best Actor Oscar, plus the one after that for good measure. You know any good magic tricks? Fuck!
Anyway, this weekend got me in the mood to write again. I don't have anything worth a damn, just some ideas that might work in a serviceable movie.
Like, you ever seen one of those movies where someone gets shot in the heart, but they have something covering their hearts that keep them from getting killed? Like the bastard has a lead covered bible in his breast pocket or something? Well I'd like to have a scene like that in the movie I write. Except where there's usually something that saves the guy my shit would make it worse. "John only got a flesh wound in the calf. Unfortunately, he was hiding nitro glycerine in his sock, so when the gunman shot him, KABOOM!!!"
Also, I want to write something about a mix of people of all nationalities, races and ages who all inhabit this finite space. They are all sentenced to die at some random time that they can't figure out, but their captor is definitely hell bent on killing them all. With this hanging over their heads, they try to find ways to gain favor with the captor so that he'll let them off the hook. They feign being selfless and kind. They try to create a positive atmosphere in the room. They try to be the most popular or the one who possesses the most things. They try a bunch of different stuff, just to show the cat that's watching them that they should be spared. Then they find out a cruel twist. There's nothing they can do to be spared. I'd call this movie "Life On Earth". The funny thing about it we're all in that movie RIGHT NOW!!! Ooooh! Deeeeep!
Man, I had fun this weekend, but in general, fuck the movies.
Peace,
KZ
Anyway, this weekend got me in the mood to write again. I don't have anything worth a damn, just some ideas that might work in a serviceable movie.
Like, you ever seen one of those movies where someone gets shot in the heart, but they have something covering their hearts that keep them from getting killed? Like the bastard has a lead covered bible in his breast pocket or something? Well I'd like to have a scene like that in the movie I write. Except where there's usually something that saves the guy my shit would make it worse. "John only got a flesh wound in the calf. Unfortunately, he was hiding nitro glycerine in his sock, so when the gunman shot him, KABOOM!!!"
Also, I want to write something about a mix of people of all nationalities, races and ages who all inhabit this finite space. They are all sentenced to die at some random time that they can't figure out, but their captor is definitely hell bent on killing them all. With this hanging over their heads, they try to find ways to gain favor with the captor so that he'll let them off the hook. They feign being selfless and kind. They try to create a positive atmosphere in the room. They try to be the most popular or the one who possesses the most things. They try a bunch of different stuff, just to show the cat that's watching them that they should be spared. Then they find out a cruel twist. There's nothing they can do to be spared. I'd call this movie "Life On Earth". The funny thing about it we're all in that movie RIGHT NOW!!! Ooooh! Deeeeep!
Man, I had fun this weekend, but in general, fuck the movies.
Peace,
KZ
Friday, July 18, 2008
Ultramagnetic KZ
I attract the weird and neurotic (no offense readers). It's just what I do. The people I make friends with or hang around with definitely have an eccentric bent. I don't think I do, but hell, I'm me. I'm not supposed to think I'm weird.
Case in point: My friend Agent Zero. She's got two shorties, ages 12 and 14, who are currently in the south visiting their father. Their deadbeat father, who has never spent ANY time with them before this summer and has never sent any cash. By whom she got pregnant the second time while engaged to somebody else. She's lamenting that he's had a vasectomy, after 7 illegitimate children. She'd like to have another child and she'd like them all to have the same father. The same deadbeat loser father.
I got another friend, Jayne Kennedy, a chick I talked about on these very pages around 2 1/2 years ago. She's trying to find her life mate. But not just any life mate. No, no, this dude has got to be GREEK, a member of the Pan-Hell. Because she's a dedicated member of her sorority and a regular cat just can't understand her and her relationship to her sorors. She is 33 years old. She's been a Greek for 12 years. It is not in the least played out for her or at least ebbed a little bit. She's on all the little Divine Nine sites and always para'ed up, 12 years later.
Lastly, I'd like to talk about Curly. This cat is never satisfied. He's marginal looking, slow witted, and has bad dental work. He's 43 years old and looking for the perfect woman. Chick after chick gets introduced to him to no avail. He claims he wants "a dime". He's a fucking nickel, and I'm being generous. The only chick he has eyes for is the chick I'm with. I'm sorry to tell him(actually I'm not) it's too late for him and her. But I'll let him keep bitching about what's not out there and stop trying to lead that horse to water.
I'd be less frustrated if these people didn't like me so much and want to hang around me. The thing is, as much as I try to be an island, I can't. I need in the flesh friends around me too. It just need to see what it is in me that keeps attracting the looniest people on Earth.
Peace,
KZ
Case in point: My friend Agent Zero. She's got two shorties, ages 12 and 14, who are currently in the south visiting their father. Their deadbeat father, who has never spent ANY time with them before this summer and has never sent any cash. By whom she got pregnant the second time while engaged to somebody else. She's lamenting that he's had a vasectomy, after 7 illegitimate children. She'd like to have another child and she'd like them all to have the same father. The same deadbeat loser father.
I got another friend, Jayne Kennedy, a chick I talked about on these very pages around 2 1/2 years ago. She's trying to find her life mate. But not just any life mate. No, no, this dude has got to be GREEK, a member of the Pan-Hell. Because she's a dedicated member of her sorority and a regular cat just can't understand her and her relationship to her sorors. She is 33 years old. She's been a Greek for 12 years. It is not in the least played out for her or at least ebbed a little bit. She's on all the little Divine Nine sites and always para'ed up, 12 years later.
Lastly, I'd like to talk about Curly. This cat is never satisfied. He's marginal looking, slow witted, and has bad dental work. He's 43 years old and looking for the perfect woman. Chick after chick gets introduced to him to no avail. He claims he wants "a dime". He's a fucking nickel, and I'm being generous. The only chick he has eyes for is the chick I'm with. I'm sorry to tell him(actually I'm not) it's too late for him and her. But I'll let him keep bitching about what's not out there and stop trying to lead that horse to water.
I'd be less frustrated if these people didn't like me so much and want to hang around me. The thing is, as much as I try to be an island, I can't. I need in the flesh friends around me too. It just need to see what it is in me that keeps attracting the looniest people on Earth.
Peace,
KZ
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The Respect Of A Lie
I've been talking a lot to my boy, Three, out in LA and I've been able to get a lot of shit off my chest. It's probably why I've been blogging less. Shit that I can't air out because of my audience I'm able to tell him and get instant feedback. It's a beautiful thing. Good ol' fashioned communication.
The one thing we talked about for a long time is the concept of respect and the different ways we demonstrate it, or lack of it, to others. Most women realize the concept of the respect of a lie. I think appreciation of the concept comes with age. They also realize when to use it themselves.
If you used to date a dude with goo-gobs of money, extremely handsome, smart, kind, fun, etc., that's cool. We get it. But if everytime you bring him up you talk about how fun, handsome and paid he was, I'mma take umbrage to that shit. I'mma say go back to that muthafucka if he'll take you. Because you sound like you settlin' for me. And what the fuck do I want with a loser that can't keep a man she REALLY likes?
For instance, I used to date many, many women that were beautiful, extremely fit, sexy and eager to fuck. But I don't talk about it (person to person at least) unless prompted. And even then I'll temper my response.
Here's where the respect of a lie comes in. The times we had will always be clarified as "a-ight" or "straight", perhaps even "cool". But they won't be "oh my god we had sooooo much fun, she was the best!!!" I respect you enough to lie.
I extend that respect to when I'm being bored to death by the one-hundredth telling of the story about the one time your Uncle Skeet bought a 10-cent pickle for 5-cents. I extend it to when you talk about shoes, hats, fancy soap, Oprah, Tyler Perry or Grey's Anatomy. You extend it me when I talk about Iron Man, the NFL, barber shop talk, my boys, or The Wire.
Conceptually, it's very simple. It's much harder in practice. But make no mistake, it is respect.
KZ
The one thing we talked about for a long time is the concept of respect and the different ways we demonstrate it, or lack of it, to others. Most women realize the concept of the respect of a lie. I think appreciation of the concept comes with age. They also realize when to use it themselves.
If you used to date a dude with goo-gobs of money, extremely handsome, smart, kind, fun, etc., that's cool. We get it. But if everytime you bring him up you talk about how fun, handsome and paid he was, I'mma take umbrage to that shit. I'mma say go back to that muthafucka if he'll take you. Because you sound like you settlin' for me. And what the fuck do I want with a loser that can't keep a man she REALLY likes?
For instance, I used to date many, many women that were beautiful, extremely fit, sexy and eager to fuck. But I don't talk about it (person to person at least) unless prompted. And even then I'll temper my response.
Here's where the respect of a lie comes in. The times we had will always be clarified as "a-ight" or "straight", perhaps even "cool". But they won't be "oh my god we had sooooo much fun, she was the best!!!" I respect you enough to lie.
I extend that respect to when I'm being bored to death by the one-hundredth telling of the story about the one time your Uncle Skeet bought a 10-cent pickle for 5-cents. I extend it to when you talk about shoes, hats, fancy soap, Oprah, Tyler Perry or Grey's Anatomy. You extend it me when I talk about Iron Man, the NFL, barber shop talk, my boys, or The Wire.
Conceptually, it's very simple. It's much harder in practice. But make no mistake, it is respect.
KZ
Monday, July 07, 2008
Back To Hell
One week in the D has taught me a few things. Sphincter control must be practiced while masturbating. Old friends are sometimes just friends from a long time ago. Good customer service is STILL not an African American virtue. Sex appeal and lack of modesty are not one in the same. Girls with big asses don't automatically know how to clap it, it's still got to be practiced. Six foot three and a half inches, 300 pounds still make a black man invisible to white people, except when standing behind them at an ATM or walking on a dark street. There is no such thing as enough corruption. It's hard for a man to be ultra-masculine on a merry go round.
I'm back, boys and girls. Back to this meaningless, bullshit gig I complain about with no end in sight. At least my boss is gone for the week so I get to do TWO jobs I hate instead of the one. Lucky, lucky me.
Be cool, alright?
KZ
I'm back, boys and girls. Back to this meaningless, bullshit gig I complain about with no end in sight. At least my boss is gone for the week so I get to do TWO jobs I hate instead of the one. Lucky, lucky me.
Be cool, alright?
KZ
Friday, June 27, 2008
John Cougar Summercamp
Well it's Friday. I don't have to come back to this god-forsaken hell hole until July 7th. I get to relax on the sunny shores of Crime Village for 10 days because airline fares are off the fucking chain. But at least I won't be here. At the very least.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm too fucked up to be a success. I mean a REAL success. I hate dealing with people and I have lots of patience issues. I get presented with opportunities and I'm too lazy to follow through. I'm in the midst of that right now.
People call me and they always want something. I'm too fucking lazy to be the point person for anything. Phone calls make me sleepy. Bitchin' ass people make me ill.
Every gig I'm at I feel an overwhelming need to get the fuck out of it as soon as possible. In this economy it's not working like I'd like it too, so I feel even more stuck.
I'll take next week off and relax somewhat, though wedding planning will be going on all around me. Try to do something in Detroit that Vegas, with the 1,000 conference sessions I had to attend, couldn't do: take my mind off this fucking job.
See Y'all Later,
KZ
Sometimes I wonder if I'm too fucked up to be a success. I mean a REAL success. I hate dealing with people and I have lots of patience issues. I get presented with opportunities and I'm too lazy to follow through. I'm in the midst of that right now.
People call me and they always want something. I'm too fucking lazy to be the point person for anything. Phone calls make me sleepy. Bitchin' ass people make me ill.
Every gig I'm at I feel an overwhelming need to get the fuck out of it as soon as possible. In this economy it's not working like I'd like it too, so I feel even more stuck.
I'll take next week off and relax somewhat, though wedding planning will be going on all around me. Try to do something in Detroit that Vegas, with the 1,000 conference sessions I had to attend, couldn't do: take my mind off this fucking job.
See Y'all Later,
KZ
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
NASA
"I'm no rocket scientist...."
I can't tell you how many times I've started sentences like this, but I might be wrong. How can everybody else be so fucking dumb, so petty, so fucking backwards....
I can't fucking listen anymore. My ears are hard. My heart is empty. Fuck your city. Fuck your problems.
You are slowly but surely making me rethinking my whole career. This isn't what I've signed up for. Not by a long shot.
Don't let poor people live near my house, but please Satan's Anus, build a dog park for Ranger. He loves to frolic.
Don't increase your tax base by selling the property by mine to a developer, but please provide us with more amenities. I don't give a fuck how you pay for them, just don't raise my taxes.
Why come talk to me about my opinions if you won't do what I say, regardless of how counterintuitive it is?
Man, fuck y'all. Fuck all of y'all. It looks like I'm stuck with y'all for the time being. But still, fuck y'all.
KZ
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Eukanuba
Today is another one of those days. My boss called in today and decided he'd like to spend this glorious day at home with his wife (who's a teacher and off for the summer) and kids (who are...kids, and off for the summer). That leaves me in charge. What that means is I inherit meetings and shit. Responsibility, I got in scads, but meetings I generally avoid, as you readers already know.
I didn't know he wasn't coming in. I didn't know until I turned on my computer today and read the email from him. Today started off badly anyway. I got here at around 9. Work starts at 8. I woke up at 8:30, so I think that's pretty good to get here and 9 and not smell like ass and feet. The thing is people think they NEED everything from the boss. We have an amazing dearth of self starters here, so when I walk in, it's like "Finally, I can be instructed on if and when to breathe." Gosh, I hate these bastards.
The trivial becomes necessary and the necessary becomes an emergency. The questions become dumber.
Peace,
KZ
P.S. Ladies, don't ask me if I'm getting nervous about getting married. The analogy? Say you're about to fuck a dude for the first time. He's about to penetrate, you look down and realize he has four more inches of dick than you've ever taken in your life. Either you can balk and say "Fuck that, he's not putting that monster in me!" Or you can relish the opportunity as a new experience that you might just enjoy. It's not about nerves, it's about being ready for what life holds for you.
I didn't know he wasn't coming in. I didn't know until I turned on my computer today and read the email from him. Today started off badly anyway. I got here at around 9. Work starts at 8. I woke up at 8:30, so I think that's pretty good to get here and 9 and not smell like ass and feet. The thing is people think they NEED everything from the boss. We have an amazing dearth of self starters here, so when I walk in, it's like "Finally, I can be instructed on if and when to breathe." Gosh, I hate these bastards.
The trivial becomes necessary and the necessary becomes an emergency. The questions become dumber.
Peace,
KZ
P.S. Ladies, don't ask me if I'm getting nervous about getting married. The analogy? Say you're about to fuck a dude for the first time. He's about to penetrate, you look down and realize he has four more inches of dick than you've ever taken in your life. Either you can balk and say "Fuck that, he's not putting that monster in me!" Or you can relish the opportunity as a new experience that you might just enjoy. It's not about nerves, it's about being ready for what life holds for you.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Until Somebody Stops Me (The Donut Day edition)
Derision
Look at you. Yeah, eat it up. You fuckin' Wal-Mart shopping loser. I'll stand by and make small talk with you, all the while trying to hide my scorn behind this venti cup of latte. That's right. Enjoy those fucking donuts while I fuck you out of your labor rights.
Pandering
"Why, you're welcome! It's the least I can do for such a hard working staff." False fucking flattery to you dime a dozen muthafuckas. You're cheaper than those donuts!!!! Is this the shit that makes you happy? Me deigning to talk to you mouth breathing bastards? Hunh?
Bold Face Lies
"Of course I'm working to get you more money. You deserve it. Irreplaceable you. Here, have another donut."
False Camaraderie
Yeah, sure. I know exactly what you're going through. I know what it's like to be a sad, sad motherfucker with no marketable skills whatsoever. I also know what it's like to overvalue my importance to a bureaucratic machine, set up for "replacing missing cogs". Yeah. I'm right with you. Look, we're bonding!
Underlying Impatience
"Um, are we finished with the donuts yet? I gotta get back to work. Yeah, I know. I enjoyed this chance to chat too. But duty calls. Ha, ha. Get it? Duty? Doody? This work is like shit! Ha, ha!"
I might have a future as a politician yet.
Be Cool,
KZ
Look at you. Yeah, eat it up. You fuckin' Wal-Mart shopping loser. I'll stand by and make small talk with you, all the while trying to hide my scorn behind this venti cup of latte. That's right. Enjoy those fucking donuts while I fuck you out of your labor rights.
Pandering
"Why, you're welcome! It's the least I can do for such a hard working staff." False fucking flattery to you dime a dozen muthafuckas. You're cheaper than those donuts!!!! Is this the shit that makes you happy? Me deigning to talk to you mouth breathing bastards? Hunh?
Bold Face Lies
"Of course I'm working to get you more money. You deserve it. Irreplaceable you. Here, have another donut."
False Camaraderie
Yeah, sure. I know exactly what you're going through. I know what it's like to be a sad, sad motherfucker with no marketable skills whatsoever. I also know what it's like to overvalue my importance to a bureaucratic machine, set up for "replacing missing cogs". Yeah. I'm right with you. Look, we're bonding!
Underlying Impatience
"Um, are we finished with the donuts yet? I gotta get back to work. Yeah, I know. I enjoyed this chance to chat too. But duty calls. Ha, ha. Get it? Duty? Doody? This work is like shit! Ha, ha!"
I might have a future as a politician yet.
Be Cool,
KZ
Monday, June 09, 2008
No One Hates Brooklyn More Than Me
I love weekends where there's nothing to do but lie around without power. It's actually one of my favorite things, unless of course I want to eat the food that's in my own house. But that's another story. This weekend was actually the weekend I needed, one where I got to navel gaze and ignore the outside world. Where I got to think about me and what I want.
You wanna know what it is that I want? More sleep. All the time. More fucking sleep.
I wish I was an instructor at a girls school. Not a teen girl school, I'm not lookin' for no pervy shit to go down, but a younger girls school. One of the first things I'd let them know is there's a cut off date for using a baby voice to get what you want. And there's also a short list of people that shit will work on. If you're in your twenties or thirties, it will only work with people that want to fuck you. There is no power in appropriating a baby voice outside of that.
What is an art fair that has only two tents with art for sale? Bullshit is what I'd call it, but that's just me. I basically ate an elephant ear and kept it movin'. Fucking fake art fair.
I'm supposed to be thankful to have a job, right? Remind me why again.
Be Easy,
KZ
You wanna know what it is that I want? More sleep. All the time. More fucking sleep.
I wish I was an instructor at a girls school. Not a teen girl school, I'm not lookin' for no pervy shit to go down, but a younger girls school. One of the first things I'd let them know is there's a cut off date for using a baby voice to get what you want. And there's also a short list of people that shit will work on. If you're in your twenties or thirties, it will only work with people that want to fuck you. There is no power in appropriating a baby voice outside of that.
What is an art fair that has only two tents with art for sale? Bullshit is what I'd call it, but that's just me. I basically ate an elephant ear and kept it movin'. Fucking fake art fair.
I'm supposed to be thankful to have a job, right? Remind me why again.
Be Easy,
KZ
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
My Negro Problem
I've basically been dealing with an increased case of snobbishness for the past few months. I don't know where it's come from, but I'm dealing with Uppity African syndrome and I don't know how to shake it.
I'm no elitist. I come from a blue collar background, with only me and one of my sisters as college grads. My high school was consistently rated last in academic achievement behind the 27 other schools. I'm from the east side of Detroit and went to the "other school" in the state of Michigan. I'm a slob and a ignoramus, but that doesn't stop me from looking down my nose at some other people.
I know this chick that's out of work and she was asking me if I knew of any jobs available. She's looking for some sort of management position. I was instantly offended. What the fuck kind of circle do I run in that I can get a job for a chick that's 10 credits short of a general business degree from The University of Phoenix? I really have no right to try to bag on anybody's self improvement, and virtual campuses are an innovative concept, but fuck that, really. Ain't nobody lettin' you manage shit but a Chicken Shack if that's your primary degree. And that shit hasn't even been obtained yet.
Another person asked me about getting a relative of theirs involved in the work I do. I asked what their major was and got the response that they only had a high school diploma. Muthafucka, that African can clean up the office after the professionals leave.
My problem is inherently a negro problem. We still don't know how the game is played. Certain credentials are "needed" for certain work. I'm not saying that my job can't be done by a grade schooler, but the fact is no one will hire one to do the work.
There are a ton of jobs that take shit like hard work, talent, family connections, etc. to get to a position of power. Those jobs are usually in the entertainment and athletic arenas. All the gigs I know about throw around bullshit about "schooling" and "certification" and "competency". Assholes!
I just wish Africans would stop thinking that a good word from Big Zed is gonna make "the man" forget that credential barrier that he put up to keep us out in the first place. That's all I'm sayin'.
Peace,
KZ
I'm no elitist. I come from a blue collar background, with only me and one of my sisters as college grads. My high school was consistently rated last in academic achievement behind the 27 other schools. I'm from the east side of Detroit and went to the "other school" in the state of Michigan. I'm a slob and a ignoramus, but that doesn't stop me from looking down my nose at some other people.
I know this chick that's out of work and she was asking me if I knew of any jobs available. She's looking for some sort of management position. I was instantly offended. What the fuck kind of circle do I run in that I can get a job for a chick that's 10 credits short of a general business degree from The University of Phoenix? I really have no right to try to bag on anybody's self improvement, and virtual campuses are an innovative concept, but fuck that, really. Ain't nobody lettin' you manage shit but a Chicken Shack if that's your primary degree. And that shit hasn't even been obtained yet.
Another person asked me about getting a relative of theirs involved in the work I do. I asked what their major was and got the response that they only had a high school diploma. Muthafucka, that African can clean up the office after the professionals leave.
My problem is inherently a negro problem. We still don't know how the game is played. Certain credentials are "needed" for certain work. I'm not saying that my job can't be done by a grade schooler, but the fact is no one will hire one to do the work.
There are a ton of jobs that take shit like hard work, talent, family connections, etc. to get to a position of power. Those jobs are usually in the entertainment and athletic arenas. All the gigs I know about throw around bullshit about "schooling" and "certification" and "competency". Assholes!
I just wish Africans would stop thinking that a good word from Big Zed is gonna make "the man" forget that credential barrier that he put up to keep us out in the first place. That's all I'm sayin'.
Peace,
KZ
Friday, May 30, 2008
Gooses
It is finally Friday. The weekend couldn't come quick enough. Mind you, this was a short work week anyway. It just didn't feel like it.
My staff went nuts and shit, talking about how insulted they felt because such and such got to do something and they didn't. Boo hoo, bitches.
I had paperwork like you wouldn't believe. Any entity set up NOT to make money is in for fucking problems in the first place here in America. Some people only believe in the profit motive, so for them civil service is for the birds. To navigate the waters and get things done is a miracle, if only because of all the paperwork you gotta fill out to cover you ass if you spend a nickel of the city's money. It's unbelievable how much of the same paper came across my desk to sign and re-sign for one single project. Then I had to chase down minutes to a series of meetings to prove that the expenditure was actually properly approved. Then the purchasing department hazes your ass. It's a fucking nightmare, says the guy with a masters in public administration.
Then it's the meetings. Everything's literally resolved within 12 minutes on average. Minus the small talk, what everyfuckingbody did that weekend, cute shit their kids said, good natured ribbing about somebody's dumb ass tie, the meetings would be 12 minutes. I've sat in meetings for the better part of 5 hours each 8 hour work day. If meetings actually lasted 12 minutes, I could all of them in one day and still have time to work on the shit I need to that come from the meetings. But if they wanna pay me to sit in meetings, fuck it. As a matter of fact, fuck that. I hate meetings. You can't pay me enough to enjoy 'em.
I'm glad I get to relax at the crib this weekend. TAD's coming here so I don't have to pack and drive. I will be drinking extensively though. Grey Goose and cranberry. Lots of gooses.
Peace,
KZ
My staff went nuts and shit, talking about how insulted they felt because such and such got to do something and they didn't. Boo hoo, bitches.
I had paperwork like you wouldn't believe. Any entity set up NOT to make money is in for fucking problems in the first place here in America. Some people only believe in the profit motive, so for them civil service is for the birds. To navigate the waters and get things done is a miracle, if only because of all the paperwork you gotta fill out to cover you ass if you spend a nickel of the city's money. It's unbelievable how much of the same paper came across my desk to sign and re-sign for one single project. Then I had to chase down minutes to a series of meetings to prove that the expenditure was actually properly approved. Then the purchasing department hazes your ass. It's a fucking nightmare, says the guy with a masters in public administration.
Then it's the meetings. Everything's literally resolved within 12 minutes on average. Minus the small talk, what everyfuckingbody did that weekend, cute shit their kids said, good natured ribbing about somebody's dumb ass tie, the meetings would be 12 minutes. I've sat in meetings for the better part of 5 hours each 8 hour work day. If meetings actually lasted 12 minutes, I could all of them in one day and still have time to work on the shit I need to that come from the meetings. But if they wanna pay me to sit in meetings, fuck it. As a matter of fact, fuck that. I hate meetings. You can't pay me enough to enjoy 'em.
I'm glad I get to relax at the crib this weekend. TAD's coming here so I don't have to pack and drive. I will be drinking extensively though. Grey Goose and cranberry. Lots of gooses.
Peace,
KZ
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Work Be Hard, Yo
When I tell you I'm trapped in a hellish cycle of getting more assignments and going to more meetings, I'm sure the absolute frustration will not register with you, dear reader.
When you're asked to go to more and more meetings, you get assigned more shit to do. The more meetings you go to, the less time you have to actually do the shit you're assigned. I'm in a situation where I can't even delegate work right now, because the shit I have to do is detail oriented. I don't trust the idiots on my staff with that level of detail. So I'm stuck. Paperwork piled to the top of my head. Shit is thick, yo.
I'm taking a break to write so y'all won't think I'm dead. Everything's still everything. Still getting married, still job hunting, still hating Satan's Anus, still not writing my book. Last weekend I came up with yet another book idea, but I forgot it. I was really excited too. That fucking sucks.
I'll write again as soon as I'm able.
Peace,
KZ
When you're asked to go to more and more meetings, you get assigned more shit to do. The more meetings you go to, the less time you have to actually do the shit you're assigned. I'm in a situation where I can't even delegate work right now, because the shit I have to do is detail oriented. I don't trust the idiots on my staff with that level of detail. So I'm stuck. Paperwork piled to the top of my head. Shit is thick, yo.
I'm taking a break to write so y'all won't think I'm dead. Everything's still everything. Still getting married, still job hunting, still hating Satan's Anus, still not writing my book. Last weekend I came up with yet another book idea, but I forgot it. I was really excited too. That fucking sucks.
I'll write again as soon as I'm able.
Peace,
KZ
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