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...)