Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Go See The Doctor

What up, hottentots? Hope everything is good with you. I had a meeting this afternoon with one of my old professors from Mi.ch.igan St.ate. She was interviewing me for a paper she's writing on Blacks in our field that came through the program at State. It's funny, she once gave me a 0.0 in one of her classes and here she was talking to me about the status of the profession. The curriculum I was in was hella small, so the professor/student relationships were pretty tight. Except if you never attended class. *ahem*

Talking to her was some cathartic shit. She asked me some questions that surprised me and I think I surprised her with my answers. I told her I'd never tell another Black kid to come into this profession. Not one. It will crush your enthusiasm.

Afterwards, Dr. Henry asked me if I ever thought about pursuing my Ph.D and becoming a professor myself. I laughed. "After what I just said about discouraging kids to pursue this as a career? Dr. Henry, do you remember me as a student? I had the lowest G.P.A. allowed to graduate. I was an awful undergraduate."

Dr. Henry insisted that I have what it takes to do it. I don't know if I do, but I wouldn't do it. She said I had more practical experience than any other graduate of the program she's talked to. I was also the highest ranking one. All I know is books be makin' me sleepy.

All in all, it was good to see someone who knew me way back when see me doing OK.


Monday, October 30, 2006

Stupidity Is Free

I'm sitting in my living room. It's dark and I wanna go somewhere. I have no place to go. I've been here, in this city since July 2005, and I don't have any idea where to go. I just finished this book I was reading and I wanna do something other than reading.

The boredom is overwhelming. I can't talk to any of my co-workers, because I don't really have any. Some of my best friends in Detroit were the dudes I worked with. These corny dudes around here are murder. I can't talk to these cats, not that my circle was extra large at home.

The women here aren't really what I'm used to. There is something underneath the surface I can't put my finger on. It's frustrating talking to them, so I don't.

I'm beginning to hate talking on the phone. Everytime I hang up, I hate it here even more. I talked to my mother today which is always a bad discussion. I called her because I was feeling bad, thinking it would be a cool conversation this time. It was torturous, dog.

I was leaving work today and it was beautiful outside. The only thing I could think of is that I got approximately 30 more years of this shit.

Man, fuck this.


The Flake Mistake

Excuse me for going off on this little tangent. It actually felt like it was gonna be a tangent, co-tangent, cosine and a secant for minute, but I think I've made it managable.

How many times have you given someone the benefit of the doubt when they don't come through? Or don't do the things they say they're going to do?

"Yeah, I'll meet you at the spot around 9!" "Dude, I'll watch your dog while you're away." "I'm gonna drop it in the mail after work."

When you count on someone to do shit and on a consistent basis they don't do it, when do you separate the person from the deed? I contend that you don't.

A muthafucka who does flaky shit is a flake. It's time to call a spade a spade.

We are surrounded by flakes that we explain away by saying shit like "That's just Johnny". Maaannn, fuck Johnny! Grow up, Johnny! Do what the fuck you said you'd do, Johnny!

"Yeah, I got your message, but shit kept coming up. Sorry."

I'm ready to purge all flakes before the new year. If we're cool, you'll return that call in a timely fashion. If we're cool, you'll show up when you say you're gonna show up. If we're cool, you'll fuckin' follow through. I'm not asking you to do any more than WHAT YOU SAY YOU'LL DO. If you're not gonna do it, don't fuckin' say it!

"I just flaked out". Word, bitch? I'm sure there are many areas in which you're downright dependable and efficient. I'm sure those are the things that benefit your own flaky ass, which means your overall flakiness is an act of aggression.

So, I contend it's time to stop separating the flaky act from the person and call it like it is. Fuck the flakes.


Saturday, October 28, 2006

General Rambling on a Saturday Afternoon


Thanks for everything, Tigers. It was unexpected and fun while it lasted.

The Spirit has now worn the jersey of every major sports team in the city EXCEPT ONE. Guess which one?

Coming soon...scalp liberation!

Friday, October 27, 2006

Forest Man Vs. The Tree People

"Culture Cypher Cypher Love is all I need/I'm petty, can't see the forest for the trees" - "Big Fish", Flavor From The Eastside Basement, 1991 demo tape

What up, Negroes? I'm trying to hold down the fort whilst being shot at with crossbows and having trojan horses left at my doorstep. To paraphase Dubya, playing "the man" is hard work.

The non-union people, my professional staff, are pissed. They want a raise across the board. What'll happen if they get one? Well, that means at least two of 'em will be laid off. Who squawks the loudest? The most expendable ones with the least seniority. Michigan has a high ass unemployment rate AND the City of Satan's Anus is about to double employee costs for health care, effectively giving everyone a pay cut. Good luck with that, jackholes.

For my union staff, calling them pissed is an understatement. We, the professional staff and managers, sit around in climate controlled offices while they go out and do the dirty work, which includes confrontations with property owners. They are underappreciated and underpaid, they contend. I say they don't realize how utterly replaceable they are. The union is also beefin' because of some discipline we handed out. You see, one of the staff made it a point to call a citizen an "idiot" because he added a component to his property that was some non-compliant with city codes. The staff person admitted he called him an "idiot" and was given a verbal reprimand. The union feels that the punishment was too harsh. Really? A verbal, not added to your written record, reprimand for calling one of our "bosses" an idiot is too harsh? I came from a heavily union family and these fuckers are making me hate them.

The real issue is that I'm here to be a Forest Man. The big picture is everything. The nature of people in general is to be Tree People, looking at the short term immediate needs of themselves. You can't reconcile this shit, it is what it is. I get what it is to be a Tree Person. Shit, essentially I am a Tree Person thrust into the role of Forest Man. I have to be more concerned about their jobs than they do. I have to make sure the work can be performed before the money runs out. I have to protect the city against money sapping lawsuits. They get to sit around and bitch about how it feels like management doesn't care about them and complain they we don't bring in donuts for them on Fridays. This shit would exhaust a young man, let alone my ass. That's why I need the weekend!


Thursday, October 26, 2006


Yesterday around 4:30 pm

Knockout Zed: Look, bump ol' dude. You don't need that hassle. Forget 'em. I'm goin' straight to the top and I'm taking you with me.
Blah Blah Blah: You're going to the top?
KZ: Most definitely.
BBB: Where are you now?
KZ: The bottom.
BBB: You're not at the bottom!
KZ: Yes I am. I'm at the top of the bottom, but I'm at the bottom all the same.
BBB: You're not at the bottom. You're in the middle.
KZ: If I'm in the middle, I'm at the bottom of the middle. My ass is touching the top of the bottom.
BBB: Where am I?
KZ: You're at the middle of the middle.
BBB: I can take being at the top of the middle.
KZ: Bullshit! You wanna be at least at the bottom of the top and you know it!
BBB: No, the top of the middle is fine.
KZ: I don't believe that shit. My next step is the middle of the middle. Hopefully I'll be there soon.
BBB: Anything's better than the bottom of the bottom.
KZ: I was born at the middle of the bottom and look at me now, at the bottom of the middle.
BBB: Yeah, look at you.


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

The First Kiss

Adam stood in the shower as the hot water streamed down his face and on to his chest and stomach. Standing there thinking about the last 8 hours, he couldn't help but smile. He calculated that he'd had a total of 37 minutes of sleep. Non-contiguous, fragmented, stolen minutes, but 37 minutes nonetheless.

The bathroom door opened and closed. The shower curtain was abruptly thrown open. She stood looking at him, naked and smiling. "Good morning." The steam dripped off those words as they hung in the air. "Do you have a shower cap in here?" He gestured towards the cabinets under the sink. Adam couldn't remember her name for the life of him. She grabbed the cap and put it on, looking like the world's sexiest lunch lady or jheri curl victim. She stepped in and handed him the black and gold packet. "You forgot this."

He took the condom from her and put it on the soap dish. He closed the shower curtain and turned so that she could have the benefit of the warm water. They soaped one another up, for the first time examining the bodies that gave each other so much pleasure overnight in full daylight. Slowly caressing one another, his hands holding her rear, hers stroking his front.

As he became fully erect, he reached for the condom, ripped the package open and rolled it on. They stared into each other's eyes as Adam lifted her, her legs wrapped around his waist. As he entered her, they shared their first kiss.

Be Cool,

Tuesday, October 24, 2006


As I scraped the ice off my car this morning, I realized what I was in for: 6 months of abject misery and darkness. It's basically winter, baby, and ain't nuttin' I can do about it. My ursine tendencies tell me it's time to hibernate, to let this shit envelop me until April. Yesterday I went to sleep at 6:00 pm, woke up at 10:00 pm, went back to sleep at 1:00 am and got up for work at 7:00 am. That's entirely too much sleep and I don't even feel bad about it.

It's not like this shit is the Siberian Peninsula, but sometimes I think it might as well be. It feels like I'm sleepwalking most of the time. It's definitely rut related. I'm physically exhausted because I'm mentally understimulated. Once I get mentally stimulated and I go back to my everyday shit, I feel like I just crashed.

The saddest shit I do every so often is drive back from Detroit to Satan's Anus. It's an anguishing trip. It's counterintuitive. I'm driving away from everything I want and driving towards everything I don't want. The drive is symbolic in more ways than one.

My drive towards achieving success in my professional field has taken me further away from my desire to achieve in any other way. In short, I'm getting lazier, which I didn't think was possible.

That's all I got.

Stay Rested,

Monday, October 23, 2006

A T.A.D. Bit Better

I spent Friday in Detroit getting my locs done before I headed for Toledo. I was talking to my loctitian, June, (no, not this one) and we were talking about travel. Or in my case, lack thereof. She had me thinking about broading my horizons. June has me determined to get my mind right so I can go to Ghana next year. That's a lot of flying, yo!

As soon as I left the loc shop, I went to this car audio place to get my CD changer fixed. As I walked towards the door, I could just make out the stunned gaze of my ex-girlfriend Pinky. I smiled, about to give her a hug when she quickly took a step back and tapped this cat behind her. "Marvin, this is my friend Zed. Zed this is Marvin." I start smiling, "Hey Marvin, good to meet you." I shake his hand and then she gives me a hug. "Funny seeing you here." "Yeah, funny." A week ago she sent me an e-mail asking if she could come see me in Satan's Anus, so I guess it would be funny seeing me there. They handle their business and leave. Less than 15 minutes later as I remain in the shop, Pinky calls me. She's making general conversation. I don't mention ol' dude and neither does she. I wondered if she stuffed that cat in the trunk or something.

After they take my CD changer out of the truck and leave me without a gang of my favorite CDs, I drive to Toledo. Fuckin' Toledo.

I don't wanna go into too much about Toledo, I just wanna say that two things were evident: Undergrad cats hate Alumni cats, and the feeling is mutual. One group is sucking the fun out of the frat, the other is stackin' lawsuits against the frat by damn near killin' "candidates"; and my Satan's Anus brothers think I'm an arrogant asshole. I didn't see the city much at all. I left Toledo on Saturday afternoon heading back to Detroit instead of staying through Sunday.

I'm getting ready to go on this date with a newy, Thoughts And Dreams, T.A.D. for short. Mind you, it's Sweetest Day and I realize this sorta late in the game. If I'm out with her on Sweetest Day, any other cat in the picture is not up on his shit, so I'm feeling good about this first date thing.

I'd met T.A.D. before, but it wasn't in a date situation. This shit was spectacular. Mind you, T.A.D. is a friend of Robyn's and she's read this blog (and is likely reading it now, aren't you?), so she had a pretty good handle on who I am. I was able to get some insight on what makes her tick. A lot of insight. Plus I got to look at her, think about suckin' her bottom lip, all that good shit. I think we might team up to go out and fight crime or something. She's the type of chick that makes me wanna write a check or build some shit by hand. You know, do grown folk shit. That's rare, at least it is for me.

She's funny (no matter how serious she thinks she is), intelligent, well-traveled and BANGIN'! If we could just move this other cat completely out of the picture. Word to Boo: You can't be callin' during my time, dude!

Anyway, I'm owed a follow-up date so we can come up with some logistics for me to transition ol' boy out so I can be that "rebound" cat.

On Sunday, I called my boy Three so we could hit the Detroit Breakfast House and try to soak up a little Tiger Fever while I was home. Overall, a very good weekend, significantly assisted by my Saturday night.

Be Easy,

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Nothing Much

I was starting to post just out of habit and I realized I didn't have much to talk about. I can't complain, shit is looking up in general. So I thought, should I do a meme? All the good ones have been done. Should I allow you to ask any question you want and act like I'm answering truthfully? Naw, there's been enough of those shenanigans. Should I spend more than 10 minutes thinking about something worth a damn to write about? No, why fuck with success.

I've probably pissed off more than my share of friends these past two weeks by not following up on phone calls. Chalk that shit up to exhaustion due to a burgeoning social life, chronic masterbation, and a renewed interest in kujichagalia. Sorry about that. We still cool? Good!

I'll be off work tomorrow, out of Satan's Anus for a few days and in Lucifer's Bubble Guts, aka Toledo, OH Friday through Sunday. Mandatory fraternity leadership conference. Good ol' "actual" frat business. I'd wager that Toledo is a thousand times worse than SA. And that might be an understatement. Revenge is a beast. I'll have the laptop, so I won't be completely out of the loop.

Stay Cool,

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The One-Eyed Man

“In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” - Irish Proverb

Yesterday was pretty cool in Anusland. I got a lot of half assed attention for the half assed job I'm doing from the half assed staff. It was Boss' Day, a half assed holiday. It was fantastic in a real half assed way.

They all let me know that I was no longer an oddity, that big Black usurper from Detroit who came outta nowhere to make their lives miserable. I was just a regular old jackass who was in management here to make their lives miserable.

Among staff I know they have come to see me and the things I do as "regular". "That's just Zed". That's the point you always hope you can get to with people. When my staff comes to me look to me for solutions instead of trying to get around me to my boss, I know something's going right.

I went on this lunch date too. It was with a woman I met in February, actually on the same day I met Carmel. We just hooked up after all this time. Once again, my taste is impeccable. She made me wish "clam" was on the menu.

A lot of women want to know if they can "church you up". That was her thing, too. I guess that's a valid question if that's the litmus test you use to judge if a Black man is good or not. My beliefs tend to lean towards the shit that Mos Def said on the Blackstar CD, most of us are "not good, but well-behaved". So, no, I'm not necessarily a "good" brother, but I won't steal, slap your ass around, or fuck a man. And I make a decent living. With so many blind brothers as my general competition, my one eye is looking pretty good right now.


Monday, October 16, 2006

Rotten And Lousy

A.K.A. The Robert Mack Jinx

I went to this function this weekend at Satan's Anus University. It was homecoming weekend and the Black alumni association was having a scholarship fund raising event. Being a bored ass lame cat, I decided to crash the event.

I went to the entrance and was told it was $25 to enter the event. I gave the elderly lady at the door a $50.

Lady: Is this the smallest you got?
KZ: No, I'm trying to break it. I need change for the cash bar.
Lady: (looking at my money clip) You carryin' around that much money? You must be from Detroit.
KZ: Ummm..
Lady: I can tell you're from Detroit. You wearin' gators?
KZ: (laughing)
Lady: Oooh, you got a nice smile. You oughta let an old lady teach you some thangs.

So after I finished fuckin' her, I went into the party. It was a cool event. There was an older alumni set on one part of the building and a young alumni event on the other. I was pretty much smack dab in between age wise, but the young alumni were fuckin' wildin' out. The line was so long, I couldn't even get into the door.

At the older alumni set, I was being shadowed by Poppins and mean mugged by her husband. Poppins is probably clinically insane. If I could just get her to go to a clinic and prove it. Damn that free will!

After the gigs, people were streaming out of both alumni events. Man, the young alumni shit was fulla babes. I saw two of my old co-workers, Shan and Ra, from the City of Detroit, proving once again that Detroit is stacked. How I ever worked around such hotness without batting an eye proves just how deep the Metro area is.

I was kicking it with them and they're trying to get me to go to this after party at some dude's crib that used to be very popular when they were in school. Turns out the guy is Carmel's ex. This is the same dude who was calling me and hanging up like a bitch. So I decline, citing beef with that cat. Shan asks me to explain. I tell her it's over a girl. She says "It's not Carmel is it?"

And I laugh.

She begins to tell me story after non-stop story about the drama of that couple during their school days, right up until the point where good ol' Carmel walks in with some dude. (That damn Robert Mack!)

I return focus back on Shan and Ra. Carmel walks up. "Hey big daddy!" and hugs me. I give her the ol' buddy hug (three back pats). "It's good to see you!" "Yeah, you too." She continues to make small talk for another minute and then she's off.

I left shortly thereafter and went home to bed. I woulda slept pretty much straight through the night if it wasn't for the sound of the phone ringing at 4:30 am. Yep, it was her.


Friday, October 13, 2006


Before the date
Meli: What are you not gonna talk about?
KZ: Bitches and guns!
Meli: Zed?
KZ: What?
Meli: Don't talk about religion.
Meli: Don't talk about marriage or love.
KZ: Gotcha.
Meli: Don't talk about your credit, books, your ex-wife or shit you hate in general.
KZ: Uh-hunh.
Meli: And don't talk about Three.
KZ: Yep.
Meli: This is how you fuck stuff up! Don't fuck stuff up! You don't realize how weird you seem to people who don't know you!

So I'm on this date with Grilled Cheese, after I played myself and called AGAIN. Actually we cleared some shit up and it finally clicked. Anyway, I'm on this date. I followed Meli's advice to the best of my ability.

My gotdamn taste is impeccable. She's fuckin' hot! The conversation is flowing non-stop. We're at my second favorite restaurant in town, this Black owned place that reminds me of this place called East Franklin (I think it's Magnolia now) in Detroit. We've had to send the waiter away three times because we couldn't stop talking long enough to look at the menu. GC has got some interesting ideas I guess, but that wasn't it. I was just relaxed. I really didn't care, so I was able to be a charming muthafucka.

I'm a caffeine addict and she just likes coffee, so afterwards we went to the bookstore/coffee shop I spend half my fuckin' life in. So now I'm the nerd that took her to a bookstore instead of trying to fuck her in the back of the Tahoe. We drank coffee, we talked about books, she bought a book of poetry. I'm banned from buying books until I finish reading the ones I have.

It was a cool little outing. It had a calming effect and gave me a sense of normalcy. I needed a dose of that.


Thursday, October 12, 2006


I was talking to my mother the other day, and she asked me if I felt OK. I told her I was fine, even though I was sick as hell. She told me I was sick and she told me what I should do to feel better. I laughed. Who was I to tell her I was OK when I was on a static-y phone over 1,000 miles away. She knows what she knows. That's my G.

When I was 12, I asked my parents for an Elite, a Honda scooter. I needed substantial transportation. You see, I'd met this chick at Belle Isle a few weeks before and she lived on the westside. That might as well have been 1,000 miles away, too. I could talk to Tina, but I couldn't see her. So I needed that scooter.

My father was actually on my side, but my mother put her foot down. I whined and begged for that fuckin' E-lite, as we pronounced it, to no avail. You see, a kid from my block got fucked up riding his scooter through an unfamiliar hood. Some cats knocked his ass off as he drove by with a 2x4 to the chest and stole his shit.

One day in the midst of one of my appeals my mother said quite plainly, "This will just be one of those things that you tell your kids you never had. " And so, my appeal was over.

Here I am, 35 years old, still chasing "the elites". All the hope that they'll wise up and understand that I'm all out of "game" is futile. Talking to my mother brought it back to me so clearly. This will just be one of those things that I'll never have. I'm willing to let it be.


Wednesday, October 11, 2006

The Things I Discovered The Past Few Days

Def Comedy Jam is about as funny as beating a bag full of kittens with a spiked bat.

Randy Newman should update his song "Short People" replacing with word "short" with "white" and "people" with "women".

I fuckin' hate shows using funny little puns with the main character's name. For example: "On the new show 'Towne and Country', an old school doctor named Henry Towne teams up with a new school doctor Adam Country..."

Fuck what you heard, The Bundy's had a pretty nice house for a one income, minimum wage earning family.

Pussy earned is much better than pussy offered.

Hip-Hop died in 1998 of an overdose of cocaine, champagne and derby hats.

If you are Black and you have a Spanish last name, you are fair game for any racist assed Latin tinged jokes other Black people can throw at you.

If there is a language barrier, however slight, being witty is useless.

Kyle Powell was a cool ass brother that I didn't keep in touch with after college. I'm sorry I had to catch up with him this way.

Divorce is a fucked up thing. My 12 year old niece misses my ex-wife. She basically knew her from age 3 - age 9 and they've never lived in the same city.

I fuckin' hate TV cops. They are the worst fuckers ever. Well, only behind real cops.

Batshit told me that it's been noted that I come off stuck up. Me? Really?

I really ought to be nicer to Blah Blah Blah. Sometimes she's the only honest feedback I get.
Now will you please turn your comments section back on?

I've pretty much made the last group of friends I'll ever have. I don't know if that's good or bad.

Be Easy,

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

The Cock Block

I've been sick since Saturday. Since I've been at home doing nothing, I thought I'd tell y'all about last Friday.

So I'm minding my business on Thursday, working right? And I get an email from Karen, one of the SA women that are holdin' me down. It's an invitation to this after work affair on Friday that her sorority is throwing. I email her back "Cool, I needed this!" She tells me to email my frat brothers and make it live. So I do. And now this little event is gonna be the highlight of my weekend.

I got there Friday afterwork with the Vice Mayor (after his ass caught me trying to dodge him), and there are only two women there, Karen and E.T. Fuckin' E.T.! This is her sorority too!

So I ease back and wait for the broads to show up and my frat brothers to show. Nunna dat! No bros, no hoes. Two more chicks trickle in and one of the male "expatriates" comes in. One of the chicks that came in was a-fucking-mazing. Face and ass and legs and style and dimples and shit. Just good, good stuff. I'll call her "Pumps".

So charm kicks in, and conversation flows. Everytime I say something, E.T. interjects. Pumps starts talking football. Big Ten football, yo! I say "It's good to meet a woman that likes football." E.T. yells "I like football too! I invited you over to watch the game and you never took me up on the offer." I look at her blankly. "Anyway, it's good to see a woman into football." Pumps talks about the difficulty hangin' out in Satan's Anus. "Yeah, it's hard to find cool spots to hang out. Cool people too." E.T. says "I've called you a thousand times trying to get you to go out, you never answer your phone."

We leave this one spot to go to another, the one were I met Grilled Cheese at. As we walk, I talk to Pumps and E.T. keeps interjecting her shit. When we get inside the spot, I'm making the effort to set up something with ol' girl. In the meantime, E.T. is trying to sit in between us, saying generally stupid shit, and grabbing my biceps.

I'm trying to shut her silly ass down by asking my fellow male expatriate to run interference. That cat has NO conversation, so he can't hold up his end of the bargain. I'm sinking. I can't just crush E.T.'s spirit, because I'm unsure of the closeness of these women. I don't how cool they really are, I just know they're sorority sisters which don't mean shit. I've fucked 3 girls in a line of 5. They all backstabbed each other.

I waited for E.T. go to the bathroom. No haps. Every woman at the table went twice and E.T. didn't move. Wouldn't separate from her homegirl. I sick of waiting muthafuckas out. As everybody trickled out, E.T. stuck with Pumps. Fuck it. "See y'all later. I'm out." Who knows when I'll see Pumps again.