Kim Kardashian's ass eats bunnies, I seen it!

Crush: But what flavor?

I don’t think I’ve had one of these, though, they sound great.

Who wouldn’t want to obsess over someone that they may or may no be compatible with? By “compatibility” I refer to connecting parts: man-woman, man-man, woman-woman, woman-man-woman (my fav).

At what point does a crush become stalking? Well, obviously I’m hiding in these bushes because I have a giant crush on her, officer.

Was John Lennon the victim of the largest type of crush possible? Maybe Mark David Chapman would have been better for John the Yoko, but then again, who wouldn’t have been.

Can a crush lead to a sustainable relationship? If it does, would you want to know? Honey, before we started dating I used to crank it to the thought of you in all the time. Well mostly, just your feet.

A crush sounds like it might not be a healthy thing. After all, they named a sugar saturated, caffeinated beverage after the term. I can see the similarities though: They start of sweet, and intense. Giving you a rush, that only, in time, will make you crash, feeling drained.

Sign me up!

Looking ahead to the horizontal future

If people keep gaining weight at the current rate, by 2015, 75 percent of U.S. adults will be overweight and 41 percent obese. Currently, 80 percent of black women aged 40 or over are overweight and 50 percent are obese.

What was: “You go girl!”

What will be: “You let yourself go girl!”

So, I guess no one listened to that Kanye West work out tape?

Sportsmanship

Yes! It’s on Wikapedia folks. Flip Cup. I’ll be enjoying this all weekend long. To bad I can’t get Barkley to play. He says it’s all about Beer Pong.

Me: So what’s the deal man why don’t you want to play?

Barkley: There’s no skill involved.

Me: Bullshit, you just like play with balls!

Barkley: You know that joke would hurt a lot less if you didn’t have mine removed.

Me: Oh, damn. I’m sorry man.

Barkley: It’s cool, I’ll just shit on you head while you sleep.

Me: I deserve this.

For my love

I’ve had it with you
This relationship
You’ve left me again
Alone, feeling like shit

I’d be ignorant to think
That you could be mine
You have been with others
Only a matter of time

At the surface it’s obvious
Your caramel color
They’ll always be glances
Distance from one another

We might not have a future
But I treasure our past
The good times were plenty
Despite the contrast

The warmth you provided me
How I long your embrace
The touch of your body
I can not replace

That twang in your kiss
Lips warmed from the south
All but a memory
That resides in my mouth

I’ve moved on
It’s over
I’m moving ahead
Only thoughts of you
Will occupy my bed

Now it’s the weekend
Time to get frisky
To hell with it all
Pour me some whiskey

Optimus-Stereotypus

At the risk of being an ass, to bring attention to racial stereotypes; I would like to address a recent trip to the cinema. Spoiler: Jazz doesn’t make it. Transformers, why must you feed into this cookie cutter Hollywood plot line? For all of you who don’t know, Jazz would be the black-guy-character-car-robot thing. Once again the black guy doesn’t make it to the end. How could one race be so perpetually screwed, both fictionally and nonfictionally (this might not be a word)? Why didn’t they just have him get repo-ed when he transformed into car form?

Furthermore, why aren’t there any Mexican voiced robots? After all, the whole premise is, they’re here already and in disguise. They can be anywhere! They could do subtle things, like, have a transforming lawnmower that shoots babies. Sounds about right, don’t you think Pat Buchanan?

Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Transformers, but mixing my beloved nostalgia with subtle, racial stereotypes just doesn’t seem right.

At least there weren’t any Polish robots, who transformed….into robots.

I feel a slight draft in here

Saturday night I spent the evening dining at The Cheesecake Factory with a friend. It was a pleasant evening so we decided to eat outside on the patio. Lo and behold, who could it be, but none other then the Sunjia that could, Joakim Noah.

We are sat next to him and his beautiful blonde date. She is clothed in a form fitting, Benny the Bull, red, cocktail dress. All done up, arm candy to a tee. Juxtaposed to the lanky Noah. Baggy white tee-shirt, basketball shants, and black Nike sandals. Oops, almost forgot to mention the stylish white socks. His scarecrow fro, jutting upward atop his slender frame; as if it was a beacon to bring attention to his duchebaggery. Here I am world, pay attention to me! If only he were to show the same attention to his date. Most of his dinner (chicken fingers, cheese burger, fries, and Oreo cookie) was spent on the phone talking to, presumably, teammates, laughing away. This laugh needs to be heard in person to truly appreciate the extent of its brilliance. Think, clown rape.

I understand having money in your youth might be a bit difficult. However, wouldn’t you spend it on some decent clothes? You are going out to dinner, and you are on the cusp of fame. People are going to take your picture. Do you really want to start your career off looking like you might be asking me for money? Furthermore, you’re on a date. She dressed up for you, return the favor. I know you’re hot shit now, but this whole NBA thing might not work out, act like a Gentleman.

“The short and very simple definition of a gentleman or a lady is: someone who always attempts to make the people around him or her feel as comfortable as possible.” – Blast from the Past (Yep, just quoted a Brandon Frazier movie)

Look, I’m sure she’ll be making you feel really comfortable later, just do all of us the favor of ditching the psych-ward-chic look and pick up some clothes that may or may not be bathed in ball sweat. Even your teammates might appreciate that one!

Medicine Man

Before I left for Las Vegas recently, I visited the doctor. I wanted to make sure my organs were in tip top shape for the internal pummeling they were about to experience.

My glands were swollen and I was tired, really no other symptoms (at least not of the crotchel variety).

Step test = Negative
Mono test = Negative
Blank stare from doctor = Check

Doctor: Uh, I don’t know what you have, must be viral. So, just get some rest and that should take care of it.

Me: That’s what I’ve been doing for that last two weeks. Isn’t there something you can give me? I’m leaving for Las Vegas in 6 days.

Doctor: Well Z-pack might work; I can write you a prescription for that. Do you want me to do that?

Me: Nah, the blank stare and guess-a-diagnosis is working great for me. YES, I’d like a prescription.

Take meds, felt better, Las Vegas, abuse body, come home, surprisingly feeling physically well/morally ashamed, life goes on, get bill, $700, fuck me!

After making a plethora of phone calls and dealing with someone who actually leaves the message, “My office hours are 8:30am to 4 ish” on their company voice mail; I might not have to pay the full amount. Sweet!

“Walk it off” apparently doesn’t apply to the medical community, although this sure felt like the equivalent. My only hope is that I’ll be able to “walk off” the inevitable ass-raping I’ll be receiving shortly.

“Hey doc, while your back there playing coal miner, with the bill, ya mind throwing in a colonoscopy?”