I'm Black and I'm Proud

I think that the two best movies that Eddie Murphy ever did were Trading Places and 48 Hrs. I remember one of the lines that Murphy said to the Nick Nolte character in 48 Hrs. where he was explaining why he had the need to be with a woman as soon as possible. He said that because he had been so long in prison, his dick got hard whenever a stiff breeze blew by. I never thought it was that funny at the time because I used to get that way all the time and that was without going to prison.

When I was younger my penis would get stiff at any time and for any reason. Like most people, I would look at someone and get aroused even if I wasn't attracted to them. I would also look at the latest Jaguar car and get hard just walking down the street. I even remember going into Bamberger’s in Newark, now it's Macy's, and having to leave the furniture department because I could no longer hide the woody that had become too prominent. It was the early 80's and baggy pants weren't really what men of my age were wearing then.

I would get up each and every morning and I would find myself looking at Little Jimmy looking right back up at me. We would stare at each other, man to man, eye to eye so to speak. It was a glorious sight. It made me feel like a line from a James Brown song, “I’m black and I’m proud.” Some people would ridicule me, but I enjoyed it. It was a sign that we were both alert and that we both knew we were alive.

Then about two years ago, I started to realize that I no longer got excited for no reason at all. The morning ritual had disappeared. In fact, I started having to be mentally aroused in order for me to become physically aroused. That was something new. Spontaneous and automatic hard-ons were now something that I had to work at. True, I no longer was worried about being embarrassed any more by walking around with a boner, but I wasn't sure I liked it.

I know that, or at least I think I am not a real candidate for a batch of Viagra or Cialis but when I do think about it, it becomes worrisome and doesn’t help me enjoy the moment whenever that moment occurs. I bring this up because recently I was asked to go to a gathering by the Philly Jacks. The Philly Jacks is an organization that manages these parties in Center City Philadelphia, where men of a certain sexual persuasion or interest get together on certain days of the week or month and strip naked and masturbate together. They do the kind of thing that boys, when I was 10 or 11, used to do when they found out about the pleasures of ejaculation.

Now I’m not really the sexual prude that I sometimes tend to be. Neither am I as bigoted as will seem to be now, but there is a reason why people are allowed to have their preferences and the idea of attending a gathering like that didn’t really appeal to me. I could see myself being one of two or three black men being surrounded by and being touched by overweight, out of shape older white men trying to get “jiggy” with the nigger in the corner before they returned to their alabaster skinned wives in Northeast Philly.

I know, trust me I know that the whole reason for attending an event run by the Philly Jacks is about getting a cheap, possibly safe but meaningless sexual outlet without getting involved, but would I really want to walk around dodging people, watching myself not being aroused and maybe even shrinking minute by minute for the 10 or $20 fee that they charge? I don’t think so.

Well, let me think about it some more, maybe it's time for a change.

And Now You Know

I am not sure that you can classify me as someone with pent up anger or frustration, but I do know how the protagonist in the following Youtube video feels.


This was something that I found on one of those smutty Yahoo groups. It's kind of funny that they should post something like this, but I suppose the subtle form of racism that a lot of people face daily is around us all the time. So maybe we should expect to see different aspects of racism in all forms of entertainment that we expose ourselves to. Maybe we would not be shocked when we are confronted with it because we learned to recognize it when we see it.

Anyway after going to Youtube website I realized that the people who had produced this video had produced a series of similar videos, and since I believe in equal opportunity...

Mean and Morose

Recently I was told by someone that I met that they had not wanted to speak to me, approach me, “spend any energy” on me because I looked mean and morose. Mean and morose?

Mean yes, I’ve heard that plenty of times. In fact I think I may have developed and even enhanced that look just to keep people, specifically the old lechers that you find in the gay arena away from me. When I was young I had that look of fresh meat that many older men seemed to be attracted to. Of course now that I have become an old letch myself, that look should have been something I should have dropped a long time ago. But morose? Morose is the look you have when you know Boris Karloff is outside your door waiting to take you down the aisle for better or worse. Morose? Where did this come from?

Have you ever looked back at your childhood pictures and wondered at how innocent and honest you looked back when you were so much younger? Back when you had no worries about money, career or relationships. A time when things seemed to be much more clearer, much more simpler. That’s what I used to do. I would look at pictures I took in kindergarten or there about and ask myself where did that person go and why was I so different now.

Earlier this month I was at my mother’s house looking for a picture of myself and my father taken when I was small. I wanted to make a copy and do something with it, but I couldn’t find it. Instead I found one taken of myself and my mother. I wasn’t sure where or when it was taken but it was around the same time period as the picture I was looking for, so I made a scan of it.

After I had emailed the picture to myself, I started to look at my younger self and I realized that in this picture, I didn’t look so innocent. In fact I looked like a little bitch that was planning, plotting and scheming about things already. I seemed to be looking for all the ins while keeping in mind where the outs were. There was a deep glower on my face with slits for eyes, although since my father’s mother was half Chinese, I’ll blame her for that. There was an intensity in my look that said; I’m not sure, but happy wasn’t it. Actually apart from the cigarette missing from my right hand, there wasn’t much difference then from how I look now.

Show me the boy at 12 and I’ll give you the man. Mean and morose…uhh maybe.

I Want New Stuff

Growing up I always figured that if you had the latest technology, you would always be ahead of the economy. I don't know where that came from, or how that makes any sense, maybe my father, maybe the kids that I went to school with, but that's how I thought.

So I'm not sure how long ago it was that I decided to get a new iPod, but I'm sure that it wasn't that long ago. I got the 16GB version instead of 32GB even though that was the one that I really wanted, but I never really ever had more than 18GB on the old iPod and I didn't want to spend the extra $100 on something that I didn't need. You see I have somewhere around 800 songs on the player and listen to about 10 or 11. The rest of the device's memory is taken up by videos and podcasts. I love podcasts. They can be so interesting and informative. I actually learned how the sub-prime home lending fiasco went south and how it affected the world economy from reports from the BBC and NPR. Also I'm starting to learn to speak Italian now listening to 2 podcasts that I get weekly for free.


It was because I had bought an iPod this year that I didn't I didn't switch to AT&T for cell phone service this year. I had wanted an iPhone and since my contract with Verizon was up this year, it would have been my chance to bail and leave a company that I have no love for. But I thought the purchase of an iPhone would have just invalidated the earlier purchase of the iPod.

Well this week Apple sends me, I'm sure they sent everyone and not just me, an email about the new version of the iPod that you can shake rattle and roll for effect. It has a larger screen and speakers which the earlier versions don't have. And what makes it even worse is that now you can get more for less and I'm pissed. My device is not even a year old and already it's out of date. Old news. Yesterday's technology.

When will I ever learn? I know that I will never be able to stay up on the latest gadgets with the most bells and the loudest whistles, but you know of course that I'm thinking about replacing the iPod. I think there is some sort of psycho name that professionals use for this kind of behavior but since I try not do drugs, legitimate or otherwise, I don't know what else to do.

Maybe with the economy as it is, I should just forget about silly entertainment gadgets and just put as much money as I can into gold, get a rifle and wait for the revolution. I'm sure that by that time, iPods will be the least of my worries.

The Killer from Wasilla

I not really boasting, but since the first Reagan term I have called each presidential winner within days of the election without exception, unless you count the "W" term which some people still argue should have gone to Gore. It's not that I follow national or even local politics that closely. I can't name all or even the most important Acts of legislation done by politicians. In fact I don't even know the names of many of the major players or who they influence or who they are influenced by. But I can ususally recognize or at least sense the mood of the country and the direction in which it is going. Sometimes that direction is vastly different from the way that I lean, but there it is. That's life and it's something I don't argue with.

Sometimes it has been really easy to predict like the Bill Clinton against slim chance in Hell Bob Dole election, and sometimes it was difficult and I have had to wait until the final campaign week like the last election with Bush v Kerry. But I have have always predicted correctly. Well there is still plenty of time for sooth sayings, star gazing and predictions, but right now and I don't say this lightly, but things are to continue the way that they are heading I believe that the next President of the United States will be John McCain.

Now there is nothing scientific about my reasoning. If I am challenged, I have nothing to back me up but Senator Obama has been headline news for the past 2 years and I am starting to think that many people have started to think of him as "old news." His views are have been explored and investigated and explained to a certain point. But he has never been as interesting as when he was up against Hillary Clinton in the Primaries. Even though he has picked Joe Biden as a running mate, I'm not sure Joe brings that much sparkle to the ticket and from what I've seen not that much interest form the electorate. His poll numbers haven't really dropped, but they haven't really risen either. There seems to be no fire any more from the Democrats.

As for McCain, he seems to have hijacked the message that was originally purported by Obama, his numbers have increased and in some cases surpassed those of his opponent. He has travelled around the country with Gov. Sarah Palin under his wing bringing the hope of "true change" to a party and government not known for seeking any type of change. He has chosen a running mate who many people can relate to as one of them and who will be able to empathize and perhaps help many with their own struggles. A woman the nation would most be able sit done with at the barbeque pit for a slab of roast moose.

The fact that Governor Palin has all but proven that she knows no more than the ordinary man and has somehow attracted more interest in a campaign that was seen as dead in the water at the beginning of the year only goes to show that the former mayor of Wasilla AK has only added to the McCain presidential run. She has become a giant killer. Of course, as someone told me I could be just blowing it out of my ass.

There is a chance that this all could be just a peak in the numbers for the Republicans and come next week or next month they could be in for a downward slide that will not stop until November. And if it is I will will be the first person to say that was I was wrong and be glad for doing it. But until that time comes I am going to have to look at Sarah Palin in the red corner and introduce her as the the Killer from Wasilla and that's where my money is.

The West-Indian Day Parade 2008

Alright, so it's almost a week after Labor Day and for most people it's history, something to have talked about on Tuseday and almost completely forgotten by Wednesday. I mean do you remember what you did? I do.

I went to New York and took the subway with a whole bunch of people I didn't know to Brooklyn and I went to the West-Indian day Parade and I had a good time.

And I saw the spectacle of the whole thing.











And I ate food so good and meat so finely cooked, that I'm still not sure what it was that I ate, but a week later I know I still want more.

















































I listened to the music.

And I saw the sights.











I am not sure if she and I were tired for the same reasons, but this woman looked how I felt at the end of a long day.

One ring or Two?

Arguably the most famous pierced titty in America, maybe even the world, belongs to Janet Jackson. I never saw the big reveal when it was first done on whatever Superbowl she chose to do it on, but I did see the still photos of the event and I loved her for hit, looking all ripe and squeezable. She had the guts to tell the world that "this is mine and see how I glorify it." That is until the next day when she started to hem and haw and do a little back step about clothing and malfunctions and things. But I was still thrilled.

I don't know when it first started but I have always been enthralled by nipple piercings. Men or women, either one has turned me on numerous occasions. The right piercing on a nice titty, and I immediately want to see how that feels or tastes. My tongue is yours. I remember I was in Malibu at the SGL July 4th event they have there when I noticed these 2 girls lying on the beach. Now I don't remember if they were both topless, but I noticed the Asian one was and she was lying backwards propped up on both of her elbows and she had both of her nipples on perfect breasts pierced looking all pinky and perky and inviting. I'm sure should would not have appreciated any attraction from a man that day, but during some lonely nights I still think of her to help me along.

Of course having a piercing is not for everyone, this is where you'll read about my bigotry, if you don't have a body that is attractive to me, then no matter what kind of body decoration you do, I wont be attracted. If you are too fat or too skinny or too frail looking, then perhaps a nice dress shirt might better suit you.

I am not saying that I have or even had a perfect body myself, but I used to have both of my nipples pierced. It took me about 2 years of walking up and down outside the piercing store before I finally got the guts to do the procedure. Then I kept getting thicker and thicker rings each year. There seemed to be some sub-conscious effort on my part to relive some cartoon character from Tom of Finland or Belasco. Anyway, finally I either got them too big one year or I just didn't treat them as well as I should have, but one of them got infected so I took them both out about 3 years ago. Plus, they actually made my titties sag when I wasn't excited and I didn't really like that look. But I missed them.

Well this year, last week in fact, a certain Republican was making an announcement on his birthday, I decided to make a statement of my own on mine. I actually wanted to do another tattoo but larger and more extensive than before, but that would have meant looking at or developing designs and consultations and a hell of a lot of miney. Instead I went back to Infinite Body Piercing and had my right nipple re-pierced but with a bar bell this time. Less weight and less fuss. I only hope that by the time I'm 70, my nipple won't hang by my belly button and be another shining example of my folly. Although, I already want something bigger and less safe, less child-like looking. I want something big. Big enough to let people call me Miss Jackson if they're nasty.