Porter or Stout? (Beer Blogger, Username: lovethatdarkthickbodiedstuff) 2009

Darland took a nice swallow of the Stout. Tasting every bit of the chocolate malt and the wonderful coffee flavor of the hearty libation. Libation was what Porters and Stouts were to him. Beer was the other stuff out there. Now this, as he took another healthy pull off of the pint he was working on, is a damn beer as he smiled ever so slightly indulging in his love and his mistresses, Porter and Stout. Both having traditional male sobriquets but all woman each one of them. Making love to him for two to three hours at a time. He looked longingly which now was a kind of hourglass shape she was dressed in this night, her skin sweating ever so slightly, just the right temperature to start with then warming up just to room temperature, the perfect love. Poor Porter. That’s what he loved about the two of them too. Some days coming in the form of thick, or slim, and then with curves depending on where you go for the coital activity which would surely transpire once the plan was in place and the right place was picked.

Calling him all the time, “Come meet me up the street please. I’m dark and beautiful and oh so tasty lover,” she would call to him lustfully. Most of the time he would fool them both and go someplace else and if they found him fine, if not a Canadian, Jamaican, German, Japanese...any of the other women would suit him just fine, but wouldn’t spend too much time with them though. At the most he could only go a couple of rounds. One of them he forgot the nationality damn near cussed him out, tasting her so-called sweet juices for not even a quarter of the time. Americans. Damn them. They all tasted the same. Some bland pussy there boy. He was here to tell you. Some of them even having a twang to them. Pussy so bad make a mah fucka like him damn near shit his drawers at work. Running to the bathroom because he just couldn’t meet at the places they knew. No he trying to fool them to see if they could read his mind and damned if either one showed up. A Canadian or German always there. They knew what the deal was. He would never be faithful to any one other than Porter or Stout.

When they called him and he was horny for their dark sweet caramel juices, he, hypnotized would go to them and they would make the sweetest love. Often times they'd come home with him. One of them getting mad because, depending on the evening he only wanting to spend time with one or the other. Both of them being equally cool about the situation all were in. This sexual triangle he had gotten these two beautiful, lovely ladies into. They didn’t deserve it. They could have many guys out there that would choose between the two and not go back and forth, making love to one for hours and then turning around two nights later and spending only three hours with the other. But he was hooked on both and given the perspective night, he just went crazy and have to have both. Juices mingling in his digestive system. Marrying the two. And the both of them hated it but both were vying to be his one and only love. Both thinking their sweet juices would eventually make him succumb to one or the other.

Both kept changing and he never wanted to choose, it was fun watching the morphing of their bodies at the numerous times and just as many locations they had sex. They were wearing him out. Maybe he didn’t have to choose. Shit he was living every males fantasy, having two women who know about one another and both being down for the menage thing. He was in the heezy fo’ sheezy my neezy. But sometimes it wasn’t his fault. Was it his fault that only one of them showed up. There was no choice then. He didn’t have to choose. Whichever showed up then hell that was the one he was going to get down with. Plain and simple. He didn’t have time when a bitch didn’t want to put out. Didn’t have time for her ‘man’ supposedly. He would go where he was appreciated and the other, shit, you better get yourself together, because there was a lot of other hos' out here that wanted Daddy’s company.

“Heh! Heh!” he hollered out, “Put the money in the bag! Put the money in the bag!” as he cheered the people around the bar and they all laughed at his very good impression of a familiar commercial that had just played on the big screen television located behind the bar. Her name was Guinness Extra Stout tonight. He Loved this tasty lady. Had a body to die for. Umm! He kissed Guinness passionately, tasting every bit of her chocolate nectar, and asked for another round. Guinness Extra Stout was going to get her ass waxed tonight as he indulged himself with round two, and yes, started waxing that ass. This was at least a four or five rounder night. He was going to suffer like hell tomorrow. But what was a nigga to do? Her ass was in rare form in.....? He looked around for a name and saw the book of matches he had been using, “Chumley's.” Damn right about that. Damn right about that as he finished her off, and round three was just around the corner. Definitely a five rounder. Definitely. Maybe even six, you lucky woman he thought to himself, thinking about poor Porter. Maybe another time bitch. Maybe another time. He was horny as hell as he started up the third round, polishing that ass very slowly now. He was going to take it slow. He wanted to make Stout one happy woman tonight. He might even have a few smoke breaks in between. Poor Porter.

Stout started to talk to him, “Where’s that bitch at now? Hunh? Where she at Darland? That bitch don’t love you. See how I make you feel. You don't know what you gettin with those other bitches. On a scale from one to ten, I'm nine point five niggah. And those other bitches with their pale ass skin. They don’t love you either. How many names those various bitches have? Hunh? I’m special. Not too many of me around nigga! I’m strong as hell and a lot more tastier. My shit staying on your tongue for hella long. You know I’m the only one for you. You know it. Look at Porter. Can’t get no love. And those other bitches are a dime a dozen. Oh, and we won’t even talk about those bland ass Americans. Shit. We are a breed of our own. I come from the land of the Stouts. We are the strongest because we are unique. The blacker the berry baby. The Blacker the berry baby,” she spoke lustily into his soul. He knew she had a point. All the others just didn’t compare to her black ass. Body five thousand for sure. She was right about her taste. Residuals of brown still being present on his tongue even when he would brushed the hell out of it. "I do Love you Guinness X," He whispered in her ear and tasted her with one long gulp and a lick of his upper lip to not waste any.

Foster's (Beer Blogger, Username: lovethatdarkthickbodiedstuff) 2008

I maybe crazy...but do I taste a little ginger in this lager? I'm quite sure I do. And some type of weird, metallic bitterness? What's that all about?

"Foster's: Austalian for metallic tastin ging-eh bee-eh."

Yo Ass Can't Tell Me Shit! (Anonymous) 2015

Child Psychologists that don't have a chick or a child!

Marriage Counselors that aren't married or better yet have been married and divorced times three!

Substance Abuse counselors that have never had a substance abuse problem!

Male OBGYN who has nothing to proffer to the female patient because they are male, having the wrong equipment; and females still line up to see him!

Niggahs reading books about Malcolm X and Martin Luther King written by white authors! And believing the shit contained within its covers!?

Niggahs and Spics fighting for a country that shuns their mah fuckin asses, er day, er second!

Announcers talkin bout football, basketball, soccer..and ain't evah played a sport in their sorry ass lives!?

Mah fuckahs talkin bout the homeless and have never went without a roof over their perspective heads!

Talkin bout hunger and don't have a fuckin clue what the twinges of abdominal pains are all about when yo ass is broke, and all you can do to satiate those twinges is to think of nourishment or bum a cigarette so those same pains will lessen a wee bit!...

We some fucked up individuals! Listening to these so-called professionals and experts that don't have the faintest idea of the processes save for what they have read or studied; not been through! Hell nah! That would be too much suffering for those elitist mah fuckahs and a lot more work! And why should they work and suffer anyway? They have the credibility without the experience, understanding or knowledge.

Ain't that some shit! How in the fuck you gonna sit up there and tell mah fuckahs bout somethin and never experienced what you are perceived to be experienced in? What the fuck!

Dysfunctional...are not we all! Yao Ming? And that ain't no Beautiful thang! Hell-to-the-nah! That's some ignant shit! We some sorry ass, ignant mah fuckahs! For real! And we pay for their so-called words of wisdom and diagnosis! Yah heard may! Get a fuckin clue! Just mad! Mad at this bull.....shit!

Hope For The Future (Anonymous) 1993

Even though yo ass know the shit is gonnah turn out the way that the shit is gonnah turn out…sheeit, you just keep it in yah heart, every-fuckin-single-time, that, this time, this mothah fuckin time, everything is gonnah be cool, just okee-the-fuck-dokee-smokee! But no! No! No! No! This time ain’t been no damn diff’rent than all the rest. Same ol’ shit just a diff’rent mothah fuckin day. Whoomp, d’ere it is! In yo face…hunh! But what else yo sorry black ass gonnah do? Not hope? Not pray? Not dream? Not…Even though yo ass know you only dealin with this othah mothah fuckah cause of Our child; I gotsta deal with this mothah fuckah fo a long ass time, at least til the age of gettin the child out of an university, some fourteen yeeahs and some change or a lil’ mo…fo the child’s sake…I have tah hope fo ah bettah day ev’ry time I have tah speak or meet the othah parent, fo whatevah reason, and think, somehow, someway, we can be fair and cordial tah each othah…for the child’s sake. And the bad part bout that shit is , I don’t even think that the shit will evah happen, but it sho makes may feel good tah hope, this time is gonnah be diff’rent!

And tomorrow is anothah mothah fuckin day!

Always Detours (Aaron Thompson, Still In A Four Year Old And Running Custody Case In Johnson County, Indiana) 2012

“Mommy said that you are a liar because you lie to her,” my daughter told me from her booster-seat. I smiled at her in the rearview mirror and she smiled back.

“Well,” I started saying to her, “Are you listening Momma?” I asked and she said a simple, “Yes.” Locking onto my eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Okay. My theory is, Momma, that, if you don’t have anything nice to say about the other parent, then you don’t say anything about them at all,” as I peeked up from the road to lock eyes with her again, her eyes still told me that she was attentive, so…

“That’s why babay, I don’t say anything about your Mother,” I said to her, smiling, locking eyes, she smiling back. “You understand Momma?“ I asked smiling.

“Yes!“ She said smiling, extending her left arm over her head, being careful not to hit her hand on the underside of the car’s roof, and pulling it back quickly, an overhead fist pump; as we continued driving to our destination.

“Oh, look Daddy!” She said excitedly. “Chucky Cheese’s!”

Oh Lord, I thought, that is not our destination. But we may just have to make a detour.

Well…hell.

Hello Mister Mouse…or Mister Rat…or...whatevah mothah fuckah!

Evil Speaketh (Twenty-Nine Years Old, English Solicitor) 1878

Evil acteth and speaketh;
And the law enacteth and seeketh.

Evil teacheth;
And the law preacheth.

Evil winneth;
And the law doth sinneth.

Decisions And Badass Decisions (Thirty-Eight Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) 2003

Decision makin. Sometimes the hardest muh fuckin fact of life! Yah heard may! But yo sorry ass tried tah do everything yo Black ass could think of tah make things right. But yah see, yo thinkin is what's the fuckin problem in the first goddamned place. Yo thinkin is based on what you think is needed, not what another thinks is needed. And if the othah muh fuckah involved got anothah agenda, then yo Black ass done made some badass decisions! If a muh fuckah time and time again done told yo Black ass you failin, no matter what yo sorry ass has tried tah do or have done...then yo ass should have gotten a clue a long fuckin time ago. Yo sorry ass just been pissin in the fuckin wind, fo sho!

Again, yo decision makin didn't have a goddamned thang tah do for the othah, but had everything tah do bout what chew thought you could do for that othah. Way fuckin different. Very much so. If that othah person isn't pleased with yo sorry ass there ain't ah thang on this earth yo sorry ass can or could do tah please 'em, cause ain't nothin you can do tah please 'em.

They done already got their mind made up that you are a fuck up! That you are a sorry ass! That you are...a piece of shit! And, most importantly, that you are, from here on out, a whippin fuckin man or woman! Gonnah keep yah down so their asses can stay up! Shee-ot! Fuck that noise! The fuck, times two!? Whatevah mothah fuckah! Ain't nothin yo ass can do, or could have done! Absolutely-positively-not-a-goddamned-thang!

So listen'ere, finally start with some good decision makin and get yo happy ass on down the fuckin road! Be ghost! Bye-bye, boo-boo! Yah feel may? And the sooner yo sorry ass realizes that, the better your decision makin skills gonnah be! Yao Ming?

Peace! More to come...

I Am...Because Of You! (Anonymous) 1962

Nothing can sustain itself without symbiosis. Nothing. If an organism doesn’t understand the primal fact at its core that: I am…because of you...

Well…say , “Goodnight,” for the last time!

We Some Broke Sonsahbitches Fo Sho! (Thirty-Two Years Old, Indianapolis Native, John White V) 2007

There's not too much to listen to;
Only severe cries of boo-hoo,
Coming from the masses,
Of course from the lower classes,
Wailing incessantly with the soft gentle breeze;
Everyone having hay fever and starting to sneeze.
98 percent of the world under the poverty line.

And According to the rich:

"Everything is quite fine!
Employment is up in this Bitch!
Don't sit up there and whine!"
As they dine, eating expensive cheese and wine.

The media expresses also to one and all,
Along with this fucked up administration's
Many southern drawls.

But all of us poor mothah fuckahs know,
It is still cold as fuck,
With blizzard like snows
Up to Our fucking Elbows!

Janet Strong ( Midwest / Women's Liberation Movement Speaker) 1969

The only difference between US, the only difference is:

Men are men because they do not trust; women are women because WE do!

Spring Is Just Up The Street! S.A.D. No More! (Forty-Seven Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2012

I went out and spoke to the environment. They accepted me into their always welcomed world. I graciously took them up on their offer. I looked up at the Sun with its formidable presence and said, “How are you doing Mr. and Mrs. Sun? I love you. And I’ve missed you both so!” The Sun smiled as their rays beamed into my soul, cascading all through my body.

And I walked basking in The Sun’s presence. I tilted my head up again and looked all around and I said to them, “I've missed you Mrs. and Mr. Blue Skies! I love you!” The Blue Skies smiled, shooing the children (The Clouds) away and now stood backdrop blue. Ummm!

I witnessed my fellow humans having smiles for the same reason , accepting the invitation of Our environment that has always welcomed everything which dwells amongst Us, free. I smiled and walked and I finally just had to do it:

I extended my arms wide, accepting everything, the same as Our environment, and yelled out at the top of my lungs, with Joy and happiness,

“Hi everybody! I've missed You all so very much! And I Love You!” As I twirled in adolescent merriment.

The Warming And The Last Cycle II (Anonymous) 2017

In the hyperbaric chamber, buried six feet deep in Russia's frozen tundra's permafrost, which was not so much frozen or tundra or perma any longer. The ten-by-ten-by-ten chamber's signal was activated, sending the alarm to the counsel. Adam Ten and Eve Ten began to stir. Their life support system fully activated and in less than seventy-two hours they would awaken. With the understanding that the chamber which used to be six feet underground, was now only three feet under, given the melting of once was hardened ice, almost impenetrable. But not for their species from which they were sent. They had sent the implants directly to that location by pure thought. Poof! Just by thinking as one accord. Anything or traveling anyplace in space was possible just by pure thought with everyone thinking as one to make the travel possible. It was the greatest form of energy. Pure energy. Which their species had honed, perfected.

This was a great honor for anyone of their species because if one was chosen to be the male Adam and the female Eve, and then sent to what was known as Earth. And if the ones' chosen instilled the given knowledge which ultimately lead to Earth's final non-self-destructive ideology, well, both would become supreme Gods amongst their species. And one couldn't ask for anything better given the ultimate goal of their species, "To aid in the sustaining of any life form that exists in the universes. Save for altering or doing everything for said life form to sustain itself in the universes or millions of worlds." The thought being, every life form, however small was meant to be, for some reason or another. Why? Was not for them to ask or even to answer. A life form, any life form, was worth being sustained. But the damn humans were enigmas indeed.

And the Counsel once more from the troubled enigmatic world named, Earth had received the signal, the alarm which didn't surprise them. All of them had hope this ninth time given their productivity and the way they had finally understood to use the Earth's energy to move speech across space and time. They just knew this was going to be the time Earth and it's life forms of humans, would possibly equal them in their intelligence. Being able to finally move matter through space and time with just their thoughts, their physical body along with their intellect would finally understand they housed within each one of themselves the ability which would awe each one of them; yet, humble them also. The Counsel had thought to themselves, Adam Nine and Eve Nine would have what all of their species coveted, being: Supreme Gods of Teaching The Ways To Ultimately Sustain Life. And they were saddened that they would have to send the disappointing thought to the previous implants, Adam Nine and Eve Nine, that it was, now, Adam Ten and Eve Ten's turn to try. (to be continued...)

This Life Isn't Just Fun And Games (Twenty-Nine Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) 1994

I'd rather be respected any day than liked by these lil disrespectful miscreants we procreatin today! Fuck these adults! Yah can't do shit bout a mah fuckah that's already made up their minds bout this hurr life. But this younger generation? Oh, you can make a damn difference! Oh, yes yah can with yo ignant ass! Best believe that shit! They just lookin for an adult tah give a good goddamned! Adults so into themsevles now they can't see, "The forest from the trees!" Damn right bout that! These damn parents and adults lettin these lil snot nose youngsters get away with all kinds of abhorrent behavior. "Get up!" And the lil mah fuckah responds, "Shut up you freekin idiot! I'm tryin tah sleep!" The fuck? "Come on now! Please get up?" And the beat goes on, "Shut up! I hate ch'ou!" The fuck times two! Askin and pleadin with a child to get up so they can go to school? The fuck wrong with US? The damn inmates done took over the damn prison in this mah fuckah, for real!

And then these adults gotstah the nerves tah say, "I don't know why He/She is actin this way?" Shiiiit! I can give yah one good goddamned reason with yo no count havin ass! It's because yo ass tryin tah be their friend instead of their fuckin parent or responsible guardian. A lil mah fuckah talkin tah me like that sayin tah my Black ass, they on the same level as me. Now, you done crossed the fuckin line with yo not knowin sorry ass! Now I gotstah show yo no count havin lil ass what takin on bein an adult is all about, "Get yo sorry fuckin ass out of that bed! The fuck wrong with you! Get-the-fuck-up!" Nice speak is fuckin ovah! Yo lil ass wants tah take it tah an adult level, well, let me teach you a lil som-ehn, som-ehn! You wet behind the ears lil bastard!

But, you see, the parents of these given children have made these lil disrespectful mah fuckahs what they are. Listenin tah these child Psychologists that don't have children, or if they do they always workin and not spendin the appropriate time with the lil assholes their damn selves. Listenin tah the people who have children gettin expelled and those same children goin in and out of juvenile detention... You-better-recognize!

"I want my child to have a real childhood. I want them to be a child and have fun." That's all fine and fuckin dandy! But it is irresponsible when it becomes more about childhood and fun than what that given child needs in becoming a productive, respectful, responsible adult. What about structure? What about work? What about taking responsibility? Once that lil mah fuckah walks out your fuckin door the people that really care are behind. What type of ideology does society have for your Love Child? You best believe it ain't the same as yo monkey ass! So, they can learn now, or learn the hard mah fuckin facts of life later! And later with society, ain't gonnah be a pretty thang at all, let me tell yah with yo dirtay face! Society could give a real good damn about yo lil insignificant offspring amid a four billion and some change!

The choice is simple: You can make them pay a reasonable, Loving, caring amount now; or, the steep inflated, "I don't give a fuck about you," price later! And if you choose the latter...may your God have mercy on your soul! Yah heard may? And that...ain't a Beautiful thang at all! Oh, no it's not! Just fuckin sad! Sad awhile! Too-fuckin-sad!

Peace! More to come...

Take A Hit Off This! (Black Stoner) 1984

Free my head and my mind to find the kind hand extending toward my being, seeing the beauty not from a forty but Love to you and me. See the trees in the leas without fees to make them a national park in this stark fetid world that has curled into a ball to suck them all. Saul would never paw so low to scrape up the dirt for his soul trying to make it to heaven with seven lives praying on him, staying with him, weighing on a hem of cloth that would take away the cancer, the answer lying beneath in the soiled sheets, a meat market of the earth for what it’s worth, un-birth another human being not seeing in the guise of humanity’s eyes so myopically, moping about, down and out...you clearly see the heap overflowing to seep on the trash of the subsequent ash, mash another potato to enable my mind to be on a carbohydrate hit, to mix and fix the issues in the multitudes always rude not from the poor which I adore and more...overtake my body to try to slide into the tea of the slant eyes full of surprises from their pure genes beams a mighty sunray to the part of the world without a curtsy to the white mans law of their perceived land. Stand amongst the palm trees and leave this earth smoking green having dreams of a better life without the samurais and knives taking lives, with bullets the druids of their conditional thinking, drinking on the corner in dark alley ways. Taking the human subconscious to not be righteous, wallowing in the smarmy mindset beset by those who make the laws, a clause never giving pause to the imaginary white Santa Clause. Cause I be watchin the villain in the tub and on the ceiling where I cleanse, it all depends what the hell are we here for? Adore all the fails that ails, madness much sadness rapping on my door, to ignore the snores coming from a happy family so dreamingly, wondrously. As I walk and bath myself in the shadows, who really knows about the blows of a certain race, the sub-space of this real “Terra Firma,” learnah thang or two. Sing the blues until you’re ninety-two, if yah wanna cause thunder clapping in your nerves triggers you dumb niggers. Electricity is what causes action, satisfaction and reaction. Figures we could be sullied by the muddied past, a repast taken so long ago from souls left in my brightness of being, seeing a bright future to nurture the further existence, a remittance that must be paid, laid upon the scope of humans non-kind, always....ever of days of darkness, departing us from the trust of one another. Take cover! It ain’t never over! “Woman and Man they come and go but the earth abides forever.” Whatevah! We too clevah! Pass it one more time!...Ooowee, it’s hittin so nicely. So pricey but not spicy...lost in the Love of pity to succinctly go on the brink to stink this globe, the earring hanging off the higher power to prosper in the dark hours, raining showers twenty-four seven never unleavened to the point of looking like pita or naan, as the can opener falters from the ....

The Warming and The Last Cycle (Anonymous) 2017

The signal came from the planet known as Earth. They looked at themselves in surprise because the signal was not supposed to go off for the next twenty lunars, 100 earth years. The cycle was getting faster and faster for the humans. That was for sure, as they nodded to one another, not speaking, all done as one accord, telepathically. They had put the implants in time. The humans had to learn, when it was all said and done again. Had to prepare them for what they, time and time again, do to themselves and their environment. One of these cycles maybe they would learn and then they will be able to know the truth. But it looked like to the Counsel that instead of getting more intelligent with each cycle they were killing themselves off faster and faster.

The Counsel long wanted, after the fifth cycle was done, to just be done with the humans and the universe would be extinct of that species. But they could not do that, they understood that the humans had a reason for being on Earth. And in understanding just that, they kept supplying Earth with the implants so when the warming started, the implants, after most of the humans died, the ones alive could be taught what they needed to do, to start the next cycle, the tenth cycle. Twenty lunars, at this pace, in five more cycles it would be hopeless. And if the implants failed in their given teaching, then the human species by their own choice, made themselves extinct. And The Counsel would not have to worry about the human species, and the truth of what they had to offer this universe. They were not permitted to change or alter anything in aiding the Genesis of the cycle only to guide. Only to be ones of knowledge and once teaching is instilled in the various few humans left after the warming, the implants return home and all watch to see what else the humans will become.

(to be continued...)

I'm Sorry Tah Tell Yo Sorry Ass but, Life Is A Fuckin Gamble! (Thirty Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) 1995

I absolutely love muh fuckahs who think they "Know." Oh, you ignorant, mislead and lost soul you! Why do you say such vile things about another human Meredith? Let me indulge you since you asked. I was the same as the soul which is the topic of note. I thought I knew. I have found throughout my miserable, pitiful existence: I don't know shit! Knowing; I have found is just a defense mechanism to make one feel secure. But the sad reality is that, none of us poor souls are indeed safe. A thin line every day we wake between knowledge and the unknown, death. "The Bible is the truth!" Many avow so proudly. Is it really muh fuckah? Or is it just good speak one avows to everyone they come into contact with and that will listen to comfort them in their given insanity of Hope? Hope. A four letter word, let me tell yah. And since one Hopes for a wondrous afterlife...I would have to say, "I hope your sorry ass is right!" Not hope for me! Damn that! I'll take my chances. As in Texas Hold'em, I got two cards, and I'm gambling the five community cards are gonna be enough to take the pot! Yah heard may? And it is still...A Beautiful Thang! Oh, yes it is! My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs.

Peace! More to come...

You Better Watch Your Step (Black Stoner) 1987

Peak around this world to see what is real. Peel away the layers as the soothsayers have become the new drug dealers in this raw deal; tweaking the truth in a self-righteous ruse to boost their loose caboose. We, staring at their derriere unaware that their mouths have become an anus spewing shit. All needing to take Imodium so that the podium can be sanitized; an epiphany finally realized: we’re living in a sullied cow paddy laden world…stepping carefully always looking down, like a scared animal, aware of the faintest sounds.

Naked You Come Into This World. Naked So Shall You Leave. (Forty-Eight Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Saved, Post-Cancer Scare) 2013

People always tellin me about myself. Don't write so vulgar. Why do you have to say some things? You need to keep some shit to yourself... But you see, to me, that's what's wrong with this here life. Everybody posing. We don't know shit from shine-ola because people keeping things to their damn selves. And for what? Because we want people to think we are a certain way even though in our heart of hearts we know we are putting up a false facade? The fuck you hidin yourself from muh fuckah? You scared for people to see the true you? And why prey-tell would you want to do that? Maybe you have some evilness within you that by not avowing it somehow it will dissipate? Poof! Be gone? Shit, I got news for your blues muh fuckah, you are what you are whether you hide from others or not. You can hide it from others but the worst thing in the world is to try to hide it or deny it from yourself. The worst crime and transgression in the world is to hide the true you from this finite life. Why, you ask? Well because there is so much of the true you that the generations to come will aide in the progression of humankind. We sit up here and lie to each other; moreover, we lie to ourselves! Damnit! Are you part of the solution? Or part of the problem? We tell our offspring not to lie; yet, we lie to them everyday by denying those same offspring our total being because we don't think they should hear certain things. The taboo of the cancerous seed if you will. Let me give you a narrative in my own life if you will indulge me for a wee bit.

I remember when I was growing up Mommy instilled in me, "Boy if you don't bother nobody, nobody will bother you!" I loved Mommy til her death, but I hate to say it but that was some straight up bull-to-the-shit! Good speak? Sure. But the shit ain't true. Did Mommy lie? I'm not sayin all that at all but what I will say is that she honestly believed that based on her life and the way that she lived her given life. And maybe she just was raised in a different time whereas that statement of truth to her was merited, but in my life, and what I have experienced and read about, that statement is incorrect. There are some fools out here, in abundance that prey on people with that mentality so they may take advantage to satiate their predatory needs. Sometimes fatal teachers. Sometimes one has to instill cancerous cells into their offspring, in a psychological aspect, in order for them to be able to deal with the plethora of cancerous organisms on this terra firma. So those same offspring will not be harmed or killed by said cancerous organisms. A somewhat mental radiation that will strike subsequent organisms in the offspring's lifetime. What, I guess, I am trying to say is that, one, a parent cannot protect their child from the various strains of human cancers, but...a parent can prepare them to deal and regress those that come into their individual lives, keeping at bay, if you will, the malignant strain of cancer to them and to society.

And that...is a Beautiful thang! Oh yes it is. My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs!

Peace! More to come...

What The Real Doctor Ordered (Forty-Eight Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Saved, Post-Cancer Scare) 2013

I used to go to church. But fuck that shit! Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it! And did I say, Fuck it? Well, if I didn’t, Fuck it! This manmade religion is given in doses, one Sunday (and maybe if you’re lucky, one or two times during the week. And that‘s if you‘re lucky) at a time. All the time, in this here religion food pyramid, you are very deprived from the nutritional value you need to sustain a spiritual healthy lifestyle on, not only a daily basis but, an hourly basis. Very much so. You see, anything, given in doses to the populous at large, is a prescription, something that one chooses to take given the different ailment(s) that the prescribed medicament is supposed to cure, or at the very least, manage whatever is ailing you to partake or persuade you in to taking the prescribed medication of note; ergo, religion.

So, one must deduce, by taking said doses of medication, religion, means that: something is wrong with you! Yeah, something is wrong with you , because you have been going to the wrong “specialist” and the real Specialist has told you in the word to just, “…come unto me.” No money needs to exchange hands and you don’t even need insurance or that prescribed medication that you have been forced to take all of your life to get help, just “…come unto me.” You don't need an appointment, or a set time...to seek my help. Anytime is the right time! Just, "...come unto me."

You see, doctors only want to stay in practice by keep giving you adulterated medication.

When You seek help from, The Only Specialist…The Only Specialist, will cure you. And you don’t even have to go out of your door on Sunday if you don’t want to. Because The Only Specialist will make you understand in a truthful, caring way: You are the cause of Your own ailment(s). Quit blaming the doctors/churches/society that prescribed it to you.

No more. No less.

You don’t owe anyone shit! Except to The Only Specialist, Your God! And Your God guaranteed salvation, gratis!

We're Not Dead...Yet! (The Head Tribal Member, Female, From An Earlier Cycle, Post - Third Great Flood) Year Unknown

Feel the breeze,
At ease,
Not a sneeze or a wheeze,
But a tease,
Of what this life could be.

All in,
Though we have sinned
In this intended end.

Put a fork in it,
Because we will never win it.
Sent it,
A long time ago,
Special.

Kill the will,
The thrill,
As we all get ill
From the overdose to the human rights bill;

Never to feel,
All the unique thoughts.
There are no lucky salts,
To throw over the shoulder
As this world is starting
To burn, never to smolder.
Breath in! Breath out!
We’re still,
Thank…Our… God’s… will,
Roaming about.

My Mind's Playin Tricks On May! ( Black, Stand-Up Comedienne) 2002

So I wanted to ask her, but shit I couldn't once realization set in: "I don't have a fuckin phone! Goddamnit!"

I knew she had been there, couldn't find the mothah fuckah, "Shit! You gotcho phone? Good, could you call my phone? Thanks" I had said.

"Oh, never mind," I had said, because I saw it near her elbow resting on the dining room table.

Two hours later, I can't find it! I was right there! I saw it near her elbow, she had even acknowledged seeing it, not having to now go over to her purse and pull out her cell phone to call lost phone of note. So...it was fucking there! So where in the fuck is it?

Oh, I see. Maybe under that winter hat that you put down over the phone after, I said, "after," you had put that hat over the same phone which you had not only ten seconds ago put on that same table, covering it now, with that winter hat you had just taken off, not seven seconds after, to cover seemingly lost phone...Stop it! Damn! I get it! The mothah fuckah is under my "winterhat." Whatdoyouknow? There it be!

But it still fucks my ass up, that if I had the fuckin phone I could have just called and asked her, "Where the fuck is my phone cause you were sittin up here and saw it yo damn self?" That still fucks me up! Right? I'm just sayin! Makes no fuckin sense...but hey?

Still Averaging Small HuMen (Recovering Black Stoner) 1993

What do you want from a front? Runts run the stunts. They’ll tell you, then fail you. Ballyhoo about the shit they have never committed. After lies have been pitted with truth. It’s uncouth! A blind person could see through that ungodly cloak. Made of hemp, as you know, you can light up inhaling not getting high off the fetid smoke. But we continue to drink the Kool-Aid, that’s always been manmade. While we slowly fade…

The End of Days (Elder Tribe Person From An Earlier Cycle,Post Fall Out) Year Unkown

Hear and read these words of Love and Joy for all of you tribe persons that have become before and which come aft! We send these words to all of you who we know will continue to make US who we have always been and we will always be, the human race!

Remember the days when the North winds become the South.

Remember the days when the East winds become the West.

Remember the days when there are numerous days of Sunshine ; and remember the days when those same Sunny days have become a few.

Remember the days when there were a many friends; and remember a time when, I have no friend or foe.

Remember the days when men speak good speak; and remember a time when that same speak turns fro.

Remember the days when one helped their fellow human; and remember the time one only helps oneself.

Remember! Remember these words and many more of statements of Love and admonition! These words, if one brings them into their heart of hearts, will make one understand:

These are the signs of: THE END OF DAYS!

So saith US all!

Be well My Fellow dark travelers! There’s effulgent light to come! Make good choices! Remember to be good to one another! Because there are always, Blessed God, better days to come!

AMEN- AWOM!