Brand New Money

It's Monday. If you're like me, this morning you hit snooze enough times to be charged with battery. In that foggy daze, between "sleep" & "awake", I go through my mental Outlook calendar and review what I have to accomplish for the day. These days it involves, projects, application deadlines and ALL that brand new money I have my eye on. Day's almost over now, but the grind is ever present. I'm holding my weight, even if sometimes I need a spotter.

It's Complicated - Friday Funny

Regardless of what is has become, Facebook is a phenomenon that changed the game. Don't get me wrong, it had predecessors: Blackplanet - If you didn't have a page, you were losing. My screen name was...D_ReaLesT. Go ahead, laugh @ me. Shit, I even joined MiGente so I could cover all my bases. In hindsight though, both those sites lacked the most important characteristic that makes something 'a little bit cooler'...exclusivity. Facebook was for college students. JUST college students. You couldn't even sign up without your fuckin' school issued e-mail address. I was perpetually single for the majority of college so it was a great tool to network. I'll leave the words single and network open to your interpretation :-)

Initially, Facebook was the best thing since sliced bread. I was poking, messaging, and friend requesting every PYT I found, but all good things come to an end. This is when I learned one of my first important lessons about women - they mark their territory. Actually, I knew that but that's when I realized something as simple as a "what she wrote on your wall" was enough to turn a chick into The HULK - green with envy; and I definitely didn't like her when she was angry. It no longer mattered what I did when I wasn't being watched b/c being tagged in an album ratted me out worse then T.I.'s bodyguard because it showed explicitly -who I was with, what I wore, where I was, and HOW I dancing!

It's comical now, but Facebook & I have had an interesting almost abusive past. The situations that are top of mind:

1) Someone constructed a fake profile of me with a quite unflattering profile picture (Hint:Bob Marley is normally photographed doing something similar). It said my interests were "playing with women's emotions"....among other things.

2) Ex girl messaging my next girl (luckily, the girl I was f***** @ the time wasn't involved and it didn't turn into a faulty Facebook love triangle) . I still remember getting that call and as I walked out of class, *confused tone* "Uh, Why did ________ send me a Facebook message?". My heart dropped and fell into the sole of my left shoe.

All that being said, I'm still on Facebook. lol I'm hardheaded I know BUT things have changed drastically. There have been entirely too many innovations to list, but most imporantly, most people recognize that "It's JUST Facebook". However, it wouldnt' be right if there wasn't drama over someone's status update, news feed, & new album. I just don't entertain the bullshit anymore, I tweet about it. Check out the video below that pretty much sums it all up. I'm Baaaaack

It All Started With a Grilled Cheese Sammich

I've been absent from my writing post for almost two weeks now. Meanwhile, numerous news worthy events have transpired and gone undocumented on my watch. I should have to turn in my pen and my page should be deactivated. My literary license should be revoked ...yeah right. It's not THAT serious. But what is serious is what I have to say concerning the rest of this year.

As I stood in front of the open refrigerator enjoying the view (it was empty for a few weeks while I was traveling), I suddently had a craving for a grilled cheese sammich. If you've been reading the Self-Help series, you know the signifcance of this delicacy. After I whipped one up and enjoyed all the crunchy cheesiness that eminates from those two pieces of bread, I reflected on my year thus far. I've accomplished goals but I still have miles to go before I sleep [and miles to go before I sleep]. So now that I, well, we are embarking on the second half of '09 you can expect the following:

• No more Hump Day or Friday Funny. I've been thinking of alternative ways of providing consistent writing samples every week and when I come up with them I'll post them (however I'm reserving the right to bring Hump Day back if a new song oozing with sexual innuendo comes out or if I just have the urge to talk my shit)


• Increased dialogue around male/female relations. Candid dialogue. So I'll put the disclaimer out there: I'm not trying put anyone on blast. I write to right the wrongs & sometimes that includes highlighting some personal experiences from friends or even myself. All names will be changed to protect the innocent (and my car, facebook page, & anything of mine that could be vandalized for vindictive purposes)


• Tweetin' : @davedougie...Follow me (as creepy as that sounds)

Stay tuned for more slick talk.

Hump Day - Your Voice

I have writer's block...I don't know why. I'm trying not to force it. I said "Self, just let it flow", but self replies "I'm constipated, mentally". I wanted to say something eloquent & witty about the voice, you know, something like it's an audible identification card. But then I couldn't find the words to stitch it to the next point that if someone is intriguing enough, a conversation should be a dance. In the beginning it's, its like a waltz. Methodical & rigid, initial conversations follow a certain pattern with the goal of building a foundation of knowledge about each other. As you become comfortable, it's more like "freak dancing" (please check out this accurate definition courtesy of urban dictionary). Ideally, you want conversation with the opposite sex to mimic the tango - fluid movement & understanding of the other's person's style. You anticipate their next move and know when to lead & when to follow. Then you know I had to throw in a point alluding to phone sex & some sexual innuendo. But... It just didn't come together like I wanted to. Check out the song, I'll be back with a vengeance next week.

Just Because...

I like a long-haired, thick, red bone... Pass a nigga napkin, por favor

Hump Day - Make It Like It Was

So I've been listening to Pandora all day sans headphones and I must say it's been clutch like the last piece of gum before the pack has been ravaged. I created a cool little station called "Old Soul". The foundation was laid with my favorite 70's group, The Stylistics, and brick by brick this house of soul is being built before my eyes & ears with the help of some other legendary artists. The longer the station plays, the brighter the light of truth shines... our music sucks in comparison to our parent's selection of tunes. What happened to the soul, to the passion, to the QUALITY? The world may never know. But b/c I'm not feeling as verbose today, I'm offering up 3 of my favorites...

Text Me Ba-by, Ba-by...TEXT MEEE! (Think R.Kelly)

So I took a moment yesterday and examined the progression of social communication in my lifetime...It started with getting "The Number". During these years (Middle School - High School) all you had was a land line i.e. house phone. House phone meant that you weren't lingering on the phone for extended periods of time b/c your parents had important "grown folks business" to handle...that is, until the late night hour. We all have held conversations on the phone hoping that one of the two things did NOT happen 1) You hear a faint knock on your door (in my case, it was Mom hatin') tellin you to "Get Off That Phone & Go To Bed" 2) Or the worse option of someone (Mom was still hatin in this deparment) gettin ONTO the phone and askin asking "Who are you talkin to on MY phone this late? Parents get possesive & shit when you make them upset. Sidnote: To every individual who talked so much their parents gave them their OWN line, the epitome of "cool" before you had your own whip, I salute you.

Next, it was AOL Instant Messanger or AIM (High School - College). The crack like addiction to AIM should have been an omen for what text messaging would become. After riding home sweaty & geeked from a "wild" night at the local teen club (hilarious), you'd sign on to AIM which sorta became an afterparty in itself. You know, teenagers doing what they do best, tryna cut something (don't front, its true). Even in my formidable years, I realized the power in words and written game is so much more tangible. I won't even incriminate myself and discuss the benefits of picture sharing & AIM. *Computer Love playing softly in the background* Cellular phones COMPLETELY altered the way the game is played. Sadly, I did not have one before I graduated from high school (Mom was a habitual hater) but my best friend did...And his # was my # when it was necessary. This was the best way to pump fake the parents into thinking you were one place and using the celly to make arrangements so you could go slam dunk something. YOOOUUUU-A! (c) The Dream. And when you became bored of actually talking on your cell phone, then you had thumb fuckin or text sex.

It's evident now though that pseudo talking i.e. texting is the preferred method of communcation. I don't know why it came as such a surprise initially. I mean, everyone wrote notes in their youth. Numerous people find comfort in being able to share thoughts w/o truly (by that I mean audibly) voicing their opinion. The convenience of the text message is undeniable. Don't want to talk, text. Out with the homies but you'd rather be with someone else, text. Out with the homies and you want to make sure you're with someone at the end of the night [AY! (c) Juiceman], text. I will say that there needs to be some text etiquette that comes with every phone (extra rules if you have a QWERTY keyboard) although I won't get into them all on this post. Remember, safe text is great text. Also, in case you didn't know, Bitches love smiley faces (c) Ed Wuncler (The Boondocks). Emoticons, ya know this shit --> :-) :-( ;-P

I digress...The point of this whole post was to say, check out this song "LOL Smiley Face". Yeah I got a bit long winded on this one.

Aside: Be weary of the drunk text, the incriminating text, or the superlongtextthatprobablywillbemisinterpreted.