What up Africans? I'm finally doing it, I'm moving to a "central" location between Satan's Anus and The D so I can live with my wife. For those of y'all that didn't know, moving sucks dick, and not in that pleasant way that I enjoy so very much.
I just got back from Puerto Rico, and for the record, the chicks are overrated (they try TOO hard), the food is underrated, and you can make a killing if you open a store that solely sells stacked heels. Incidentally, that portion of Africanness that inhabits the Puerto Rican genetic makeup seems to rule as far as timeliness and general attitude. Also, for the first time in my life, I got sunburned, so that's something. Anyway, we went for our first anniversary. It was a good trip to take and a precursor to the bigger trips we're planning, like to the Mediterranean, which I just realized as I wrote it, looks like it means "Middle Ground", which is where she and I are moving to in Michigan.
This post came full circle. Imagine that.
Peace,
KZ
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, February 15, 2008
What?!?
I celebrated an anniversary yesterday as a member of my frat. I didn't call anybody, sands' or otherwise. Didn't email 'em either. I still love my brothers, but I've been kind of cocooning. So a belated toast to the Valentine Line. I.nvictus, muthafuckas. I'll see all y'all soon.
I got a strange call yesterday though. My secretary told me "He says it's your nephew". I thought about that. I have 4 nephews, ages 5, 7, 16, and 18. I doubt that any of them have my home number let alone my work number, so I was wary. "Put him through".
"Hey Keith, what's up? It's your nephew Amen-Ra." Amen-fuckin'-Ra. I hadn't heard that name in at least 6 years. It was my ex-wife's little nephew, sounding grown as hell.
"Man, what goin' on?" I asked, now especially wary. "Well, I'm calling because I'm about to pledge your frat and I need some help. " There it was. I know he didn't need advice. This was about money. This was the little cat that I used to take to frat meetings with me and have him around the bros to get him interested in going to college at the very least and at the most join the frat when he was ready. Now we was ready.
"When we submit our application, we have to pay $950..." My mind trailed off. $950 for undergrad fees? Highway fucking robbery.
"Ra, I'll see what I can do, but I got shit to pay for myself right now. Send me the information, email it to me." I needed to see if what he says is legit. I didn't want him on a "ghost line" either, where these cats take your money but their chapter is suspended, leaving the pledgee ass out.
Really I wouldn't have thought about coming out any money, but he caught me on my anniversary, when nostalgia got the best of me.
Peace,
KZ
I got a strange call yesterday though. My secretary told me "He says it's your nephew". I thought about that. I have 4 nephews, ages 5, 7, 16, and 18. I doubt that any of them have my home number let alone my work number, so I was wary. "Put him through".
"Hey Keith, what's up? It's your nephew Amen-Ra." Amen-fuckin'-Ra. I hadn't heard that name in at least 6 years. It was my ex-wife's little nephew, sounding grown as hell.
"Man, what goin' on?" I asked, now especially wary. "Well, I'm calling because I'm about to pledge your frat and I need some help. " There it was. I know he didn't need advice. This was about money. This was the little cat that I used to take to frat meetings with me and have him around the bros to get him interested in going to college at the very least and at the most join the frat when he was ready. Now we was ready.
"When we submit our application, we have to pay $950..." My mind trailed off. $950 for undergrad fees? Highway fucking robbery.
"Ra, I'll see what I can do, but I got shit to pay for myself right now. Send me the information, email it to me." I needed to see if what he says is legit. I didn't want him on a "ghost line" either, where these cats take your money but their chapter is suspended, leaving the pledgee ass out.
Really I wouldn't have thought about coming out any money, but he caught me on my anniversary, when nostalgia got the best of me.
Peace,
KZ
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Double Up
What's crackin' y'all? Something slipped by me this week. It's my bloggaversary. Two years of ridiculousness and arbitrary venom. I went back into my archives and I was literally amazed. I got a lot of good product out there.
The funny thing about a lot of the old stuff is, it's absolutely nothing like the current stuff. I haven't changed really at all, I just don't act out on the shit I used to talk about. As a matter of fact, I don't write about EVERYTHING I'm thinking anymore. I think that's the biggest thing. I still got foul thoughts and shit, but I'm not entering them shits into evidence.
I used to complain a lot about not getting ass the way I wanted to. The pursuit of ass was primary. And secondary. And tertiary. Believe me, I still love pussy. I just don't talk about it as much. The funny thing, as with most things, as soon as you stop chasin' it, people wanna give it to you. I'mma try this shit with money, yo!
I spent a lot of time complaining about my gig, which I still hate. But it could be worse. Much worse. Even as I fly down south for this interview in a couple of weeks, I get this wistful feeling about Satan's Anus and how it "de-toxed" me from being all "Mot.or City Arrogant". I think the proximity to the city without being IN the city helped me on the social end of things.
Has this shit evolved? It depends. Am I a better or a different person? Nope. I'm just reacting differently to the same stimuli. I still like to complain about shit I can't change and Quixote dem windmills. I'm still in love with porn. I still don't write like I should. I still get anxiety dealing with my parents. I'm still mad at and about hip-hop.
And I'm still writing this damn blog.
Be Easy,
KZ
The funny thing about a lot of the old stuff is, it's absolutely nothing like the current stuff. I haven't changed really at all, I just don't act out on the shit I used to talk about. As a matter of fact, I don't write about EVERYTHING I'm thinking anymore. I think that's the biggest thing. I still got foul thoughts and shit, but I'm not entering them shits into evidence.
I used to complain a lot about not getting ass the way I wanted to. The pursuit of ass was primary. And secondary. And tertiary. Believe me, I still love pussy. I just don't talk about it as much. The funny thing, as with most things, as soon as you stop chasin' it, people wanna give it to you. I'mma try this shit with money, yo!
I spent a lot of time complaining about my gig, which I still hate. But it could be worse. Much worse. Even as I fly down south for this interview in a couple of weeks, I get this wistful feeling about Satan's Anus and how it "de-toxed" me from being all "Mot.or City Arrogant". I think the proximity to the city without being IN the city helped me on the social end of things.
Has this shit evolved? It depends. Am I a better or a different person? Nope. I'm just reacting differently to the same stimuli. I still like to complain about shit I can't change and Quixote dem windmills. I'm still in love with porn. I still don't write like I should. I still get anxiety dealing with my parents. I'm still mad at and about hip-hop.
And I'm still writing this damn blog.
Be Easy,
KZ
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)