Conditioned Response and Matthew 6:6

Don't chou just love the hypocrisy of it all. I mean really. The Holy Bible King James Version states, "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."

And what these muh fuckas do now, fuck it! We's gonna show everybody how pious we is! And they pray aloud amongst one another?! The fuck?! My Black ass ain't that much of a heathen that I can't understand what a motha fucka reads! I mean shit. 

"May we bow our heads..." The fuck no motha fucka! No! No! No! The fuck you doin? That shit is totally not biblical with yo greasy nappy head ass motha fuckin charlatan you! God damned it! 

 

(Peace! More to come...)

The Fuck! Wrong...with you...and me?

 You can't sit up there, being all sympathetic and shit, when you a selfish motha fucka! And continue to be based on the long history of yo sorry do nothing ass being in politics. The fuck you think you foolin? Just because some dumbass illiterate motha fuckin mid-rich wanna go along with the bullshit. Ain't got the fuck ta do with me! But somethin better change in the fuck hurry God Damned it! The fuck wrong with all of US? 

We hear it! Fuckin smell the fetid shit! Yet, all that we do to this day is, "Shit! That's some funky ass shit! But you'll get used to it!" When in the fuck in this great land of Our, The United States of America, we ever thought, we would be acquiescing to living in an environment that smells like SHIT!...

(Peace! More to come...)

Modern Day Local and National News

 "I'm Richard Richards and we settle the long unanswered query: Why your ass itches? And, why it just may need to be scratched. Coming up after the break..."

Network (1976)

 The best movie ever made in my opinion...wait for it...Network! Shit that motha fucka is for real Yo! Straight up! And almost a half century later, still relevant and still...extremely topical. Check it out when you have the time. The best quote to me was when Max Schumacher, played by William Holden says to Diana, played by Faye Dunaway:

"Why is it that a woman always thinks that the most savage thing she can say to a man is to impugn his cocksmanship."

Then she says, tryin to sound like the victim and shit, and that bitch ain't saw a millisecond of being a participant of  her being even near a recipient of victimizing, shit, while ya playin, she has always been the victimizer. Shiiit-ought! I can tell a playa when I witness one. You need to quit it! 

"I'm sorry I inpugned on your cocksmanship!"

Then the motha fucka gets tired of the dance and just comes out and says: you dumb bitch,"...I gave up comparing genitals back in the schoolyard."

Now he didn't say the 'you dumb bitch' part. But that motha fucka was definitely understood! And he did it the playa way...smooth! Hah!

Interaction, is in need! And is needed! My Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas, and it is always...A Beautiful thang! Our Good Pseudo Merciful Father! Oh, yes it is!...

(Peace! More to come...)

Ending The Ultimate Battle

Steal their will. Be still. Kneel oft because the time has come! Summon the horrid spirits from the beyond. It’s not going to be any fun! But they’ll thank US in the near future.

Who Knew? (Thirty-Five Years Old, Anthony Bohannon, Lecturer and Blogger) Sunday, 06June2021 (time unknown)

"The show must go on!" I don't know what sorry ass motha fucka was ultimately pinned to the genesis of that phrase, but what I do know is: That was a sorry ass selfish motha fucka! For real! 

And the jam of the past is the jam of the day! So what's so fuckin new? 

Pure

 Don't you like the hit, even just a little bit? Don't quit, sit down, please don't sneeze you'll break up the molecules that pools, when I take an intake from the snow that, graciously didn't blow! Negro, don't you know, take a pause for the cause, for you and me feeling free from the anticipated long sniff; Oh no, you can't take a whiff; don't stiff...en the lesson that will be in session once the powder shows you its power...until it molests you with rocks, that's true torture, now and forever! 

The Capitalist Ubiquitous Answer, "Fuck No!" (A Sneak Peek of The Nathan Richards', Author of the book, "Why Not?") Video Blog, YouTube Influencer, Elaine Bon Jolie Madam, Sunday, February 21, 2021 at 12:01 PM

 All your sorry ass workin like the slave that you are, slave. All that you want like with any other thing that means anything in this goddawful life is to be appreciated! Is that so fuckin hard? You got motha fuckas that've been at a sorry ass job for thirty fuckin years and ain't missed a mother fuckin day and never been late, been in this motha fucka for ova a quarter since they been opened! Shit! And just because this bitch's been opened since 1920, Our centennial, can't a nigga get at least one percent of this bitch's ownership?...

Amusez-Vous

 You can't have a filter now! Nooooo! Not now! Please don't! You have to speak raw fuckin truths! Shit! Something's goin on and it's so fetid the smell is starting to affect Our lungs and Our overall health. They callin it COVID 19. But that's bullshit. You know how malignancy does, cancerous cells have infiltrated our humanity. And its high time to purge. And the bad thing about it is...we have to remove, not some...it all! 

Bienvenue! Merde! Vous assistez a la genese de l'humanite!

(I try. I really do!(smile) Peace! More to come...)

Come Back To US ("Let your yea be yea and your nay be nay. Everything else is wicked and evil.")

 You know what's wrong with Our US of A? We relyin on fuckin co-signers! I'm a grown ass man/woman making my own way in this fucked up life and doin the best that I fuckin can...and the last thing a motha fucka like me needs right now is anotha motha fucka speakin on me or speakin about me.

If yo ass is a grown ass man or woman in good repute! You stand alone under this fine firmament and stand fucking tall, with not a slump in your posture and say to one and all: "My name is Meredith Singleton Hopson!" And whatever the response. It is what it is. I'm me and I don't need yo sorry ass goin round my back askin bout me because I'm the only motha fucka that has the right answers, the truth of...me! 

Not, and I say it again, not some fuckin co-signer or non-cosigner! God damned it!

(Peace! More to come...)

The Answer Is...

 I mean shit! How much time you think you got left in this bitch? Today? Tomorrow? Two days? Three days?...Shit, and the answer is always: I don't know. Damn straight! You don't fucking know! And I sure in the fuck don't know either! I ain't no fuckin soothsayer...far be it. I'm just a regular ol' nigga bein me! And heavy on that ol' and I'm teetering on that nigga part! Shit! While ya playin. But seriously, how much time you think you got?

And whatever the answer...what the fuck are you going to do during that short or long period of time...to make this a better place for all of...US?

Back In The Day

 I'm listening to Depeche Mode's, "Policy of Truth." Motha fucka be rockin! Straight up! When that opening: "berhn-berhn-berhn-tung-tung-berhn-berhn-tung-tung-berhn-berhn..." Fuckin terrible! In a good way!

The lead singer couldn't sing for shit! But that damn beat though! Shiiiiit! Quite! Solid!

(Peace! More to come...)

Just Between You and Me

 Men always complainin, "She wants a fuckin twenty-eight hundred dollar fuckin refrigerator for God's sakes! Twenty-eight hundred fucking dollars!" or, "She wants a thirty-three hundred dollars washer and dryer!" or, "Come on man! Six thousand for some bullshit stand alone oven?!"...we can go on and on with that shit ad nauseum. Shit. 

Tell you what playa, check this out, how bout cho selfish ass gets in that fuckin kitchen and gets some shit out and feed some niggas. Shit!  Say, fuck it, I'll cook the damn meals from now ohn! I'll wash all the clothes from this point forward don't worry about such traditional female house shit, I got chou!...Then when she comes to you and says, "We need another stove that one looks like it needs to be replaced." Then you can say, "Oh, you gonna start cookin for niggas now? Shit cool!" Then she can say, "Nah! I ain't sayin all that! Shiiit I've been havin that bitch since I bought this bitch! So she's cool!" Then you smile at her and say, "I love you!" And she smiles back at you and hopefully says, "I love you too." And if she doesn't, shit, you didn't have enough to carry both y'alls asses through to begin with. But if she does, shit nigga everything is solid. Cha-ching! You just saved the household six-thousand dollars motha fucka! !

I'm sure you've heard the phrase: "Happy wife, happy life!?"

Nigga! 

Whatchatchairnaw! (smile)...

(Peace! More to come...)

Misgivings (Thirty-Nine Years Old, Otis "Ox" Wilson, Retired Professional Entertainment Wrestler, Spoken Word Enthusiast) Saturday, December 5, 2020 @ 3 AM

 I want to feel what's real. Steal the thunder from the blunder. Asunder plight or flight. Night being bright despite the kite flying so high! Bye-bye to the days and the wonderful blue skies; now mostly gray or even tie dyes. 

The time is now. Just Pray and say...and I'll be glad to show you how.

Unaccounted For

Comeuppance. Now that's a motha fuckin word I adore in this time, in this life. Motha fuckas! Motha fuckas! And if ya didn't read me the other two times: Motha Fuckas! Don't you just love the Black so-called Bourgeois? Funnier than shit! You just want to tell them in confidence, if they didn't know before because some dysfunctional brain synaptic episode, "You do know you a nigga! Don't you?" And they would be offended. But let me tell you something, "A real bourgee  nigga doesn't concern themselves with cost." A real nigga does. So...I would deduce...we don't have real Bourgeoise niggas in the Black American community, only Real Niggas...

(Peace! More to come...)

Cannons, "Love on the Ground" and The SOS Band, "Just Be Good To Me"

 All that you want from that motha fuckette or fucka, whateva's cleva; is...just be good to me! Goddamn it! Treat motha fuckas howeva ya wants...but...motha...fuckette! Be good to my Black Sorry Ass! And I sho nuff will be just as good or more to yours! For real! Whew! Sweet Jesus!

(Peace! More to come...)

A Song, Can Make Things Move...In A Very Good Way

 Let's put on a little music to get the brain synapses clanging together as to calm. So? What shall we play?...I know. Can't go wrong with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers', "You Got Lucky." So here we go...

Send the winds of sins to never win only to sign our name in the vanity of humanity; that has never cared for our betterment. The various stents that have bent and broken in this fine firmament which we destroy. Little boys playing with toys instead of being Pious Leaders in this whirlwind of venomous chaos...

Foster The People's, "Sit next to me."

Don't fret there's no room to assume. Forget and leave a chip in the hip pocket which may pay the next months bill, a thrill to find thy hidden "surprise" in disguise to your own demise of various cries. Lament about the days gone bye as thy Father is nigh. Coming to swoop you up, going to the most high... 

Happy Mondays, "Hallelujah" (club remix)

The beat goes on and on, while I am gone. Pound a sound for the underground of hope. No need for the dope, just a periscope as I submarine under the many blunders of man. Don't say I can't because I can! Hallelujah resounding in my cranium as the maniacs attacks the so-called brainiacs traversing into another direction is the infection which will cure and pure. Rising higher onto another level where beautiful humans and things steal the opening act. Then the various Lucifers draw up a contract, a lifelong pact. 

Cannons, "Fire for You."

I don't like to talk in a negative connotation. Alienation causes lifelong pain and discord. Pull the cord of the tired chord playing painstakingly in the background. Time to turn it around. Stop all the bass just in case we have no one hard to hear. There's no fear! We got each other My Dear...Sweet Sistas and Brothas!

(...Peace! More to come...)

"Jack's Pizza, 1966"

 Ya readin me? I mean really readin me? Kay. Check this out. You call Jack's Pizza up right? Get an XLarge: Sausage, Onions and Banana Peppers pizza! And nigga...you set for the day! Eat that shit all day long son! Straight up! Breakfast, lunch and dinner! And no refrigeration needed. Twelve hours don't kill a nigga! I mean shit, look at me I've been doin this shit for years and I'm still writing to you. So fuck it! It is what it is, you know what I mean? Pizza...sausage...Bingo-Bango focused negro...

The sausage. They have this I do believe is, breakfast sausage that is crumbled all over that motha fucka! Shit! I mean eighteen inches of a round flat plane with nothing but a canvas, pizza dough, and topped off with pizza sauce and a sausage layer of future satiating goodness. Uhm! What else you want? Well let me get those Banana Peppas and those Sweet Onions right there, and you know how to do the rest, old motha fucka! Yea, I know how old yo old ass is! Just as old as my Black Ass! But yo ass is doin way better than me, you definitely haven't aged a motha fuckin year since I first was introduced ta ya! Damn! Right On! Damn:

3-1-7-8-7-6-1-9-6-6

"Thank you for calling Jack's Pizza, this is Erin can you hold please?"
"Sure," What? Fuck yeah I'm ordering me a damn Jack's Pizza! All this talking of food made my Black Ass hungry! Shhh...

"Sorry for your hold, this is Erin how can I help you?" Gotta go...

"Yeah Erin. Can I get that extra large, sausage..."

(...Peace! More to come...)

Just Playing With Words And Fighting Against The Evitable

 It's interesting that all it takes is a catalyst. Something that can alter your thinking into deep consciousness. A profound thing happens to the ones' who care. You get more and more human. Slowly with every one of those various catalysts we choose which we kickstart. In whatever manner. And in whatever medium which you prefer to initiate the transformation. 

What am I talking about? Well that is easy I guess if I liven a word picture for you. Take for instance smoking. You have the ones that continue to use book matches or boxed wooden matches instead of a disposable lighter. Then you have the hardcore ones who will not fire up their ciggy by any other means than that old reliable ZIPPO (Clink-shick-clink). But no matter what you use the ends justify the means. You just need that Nic' Dick! Pullin on that motha fucka watchin it slowly get limp, smaller. Thinking like a motha fucka who likes Nic's dick, "Oh well!" Next!...

The World Walk

 You know why I love President Trump? Cause a motha fucka...anybody, male, female, straight, LGBTQ...whatever the fuck! E'rbody wantsta put their middle finger to the world and say, "Fuck!!!!!! You!!!!!!!!!" And this motha fucka gettin away with it on a big motha fuckin stage! While ya playin. 

And no matter what happens to the motha fucka, he got that swagger, like, "Whah? Motha fucka?" And he don't have to say one goddamned word! Even though he's Plump Trump! He still got that mother fuckin 'Fuck You Swagger,'! 

And say whatcha want! I's don't give a real thirty-three shits! All I can say is: 

Now that's...My Nigga! For real!...

Peace! More to come...

Just The Next Scene Of This Abysmal, "The United States of America," Magnificent Over Costed Play

 It's always somethin. What ah surprise! The Electoral Votes could be a tie. Shit! Didn't see that comin! Fuckers! Who the fuck they think they foolin? Fool US numerous times, shame on US! Try ta fool US this time, shame on you!

Just Nouns

 "People, places or things..." gonna ring and sing when the mighty hand seals the deal. Just be still and watch the magic try to steal another trick in the hectic, prophetic mess we have travelled many times before. Abhor our defiance in the nuance of life. 

Aperture

 They're causing a problem to begin with. They know good and goddamned well motha fuckas watchin the shit gonna say whatever candidate won as President gonna have a fuckin problem. They do these big ass all fucking day long programs, on live television no less, shows that eventually will tell the winner of the Presidential Election. But what they fail to say, which their asses put in fine print, and say under their fuckin breaths: These are projections! 

Wanna Bet?

 I hear Carly Simon singing, perpetually on up until this election drops,: "...Anticipation/ Is making me wait..." 

Oh, my Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas, this shit is going to be the greatest spectacle in Politics! Ever!:

"President Donald Trump Vs Vice President Joseph Biden!" 

Here are the rules: 1) Gonna be a clean fight; 2) No hitting below the belt; 3) No hitting on the breaks...we all agree? Okay! Fight! VOTE!

And it will be...a beautiful thing! Oh, yes it will...

Peace! More to come...