By now avid readers of this blog ave noticed the awesomeness of many of my blog titles on this site. From “All I Want For My Birthday Is a Big Booty Hoe” to “There Is No Spoon, Then You Will See That It Is Not The Spoon That Bends But Only Yourself” or “You Borrow My Brain For Five Seconds and Just Be Like “Dude Unplug this Bastard, Can’t Handle It!!!!!”, coming up with such EPIC titles is a science anyone can master if you’re willing to think outside the box. If you’ve come here with an open mind then I shall bestow upon you some of my techniques for making epic blog titles. Continue reading
Damn! You mean this blog is really a year old? Wow, It’s still hard to believe I’ve been writing this blog for an entire year. 50 something posts later and I’m still getting started. Before we take a look back through a great year I just want to take this time to thank all of my loyal readers, you guys are the reason why I delicate the energy I do to this blog. It is an honor to have the opportunity to use my experiences to enlighten everyone. Well without further adieu, lets go through my top favorite blog posts from the year in chronological order. This list will serve as a refresher for those who have been reading my blog since the beginning and as a sampler for any newcomers. Continue reading
It’s been quite sometime since I wrote one of these and honestly, the reasons for my absence are irrelevant. I’m back and I’m ready to kick some more ass. Apparently this month within the disabilities community is “Spread the Word to End the Word” month. Now I had no idea this month was devoted that cause which is a little sad because it is a reminder of how out of touch I have been with the world as of late. For those who are completely unaware of what word I’m talking about, it’s a word a lot of us use very nonchalantly and even I have been guilty of using this word a lot in my youth. It’s a word we use so much we sometimes forget who that word hurts the most and is also a reminder of how disregarded the fight for disability rights is. I’m talking about the word “Retarded” or “Retard”, a word which from personal experience even as a black person I find more offensive than the N word. Now before every African American person or person of color goes batshit crazy over this statement, allow me to explain myself and my own personal struggle. Continue reading
Imagine that you’re watching a really good movie or maybe you’re engrossed in a really good novel. Maybe all your attention is on your significant other or maybe you’re engaged in a task the requires all of your attention like fixing something or assembling it. Maybe you’re at work and you would hope that should anyone decide to call you between the hours of 9-5 that it’s going to be something worth putting aside a task for. You’re so far into whatever zone or moment you’re in that any distraction such as a phone call or someone who completely disregards the fact that you’re completely occupied is enough for you to get extremely frustrated because either the said distraction has now taken you out of the zone of mental focus you so desperately required to complete your task efficiently or instead of progressing the said movie or book or even video game you’ve been putting so much energy into you’re now completely thrown out of what ever zone of immersion that made the experience enjoyable. Maybe it was a phone call, maybe someone came storming into whatever room you were in and become enough of a distraction to completely kill what ever moment you were in and in those moments a part of you knows damn well that if what ever someone blatantly killed your focus for isn’t urgent, important, relevant, or time sensitive enough to warrant taking you out of your zone, you’re all of a sudden a hair a away from giving them the dirtiest look you’ve ever given anyone in years and maybe even getting annoyed if this be comes too much of a common re-occurrence. Amplify this focus feeling of annoyance when the said focus is broken and you have my complex and sometimes whacked out mind. Continue reading
I’m going to continue the “A Letter to My Younger Self” series that I started over the summer. This time I will write a letter to my 18 year old self. A person who decided he was going to follow dreams that have unfortunately left me in serious financial trouble. I won’t exactly shatter this poor kid’s dream, I just need to warn him that there are better ways he could go about the decision he will make down the road.
So yesterday when I went to pick my sister up from high school a kid walked by me talking to his friend and told him “imma buy go and by these new Js (presumably Jordans), imma turn up”. Now those who aren familiar with street slang should know that the phrase “turn up” (turnt up = adjective) means to get drunk or high or both. It also means to go hard and let loose. I hope the kid meant the latter in the context of playing basketball. He was only thirteen-fourteenish but it made me think back to myself at his age and myself now. Back then sneakers, women, drugs, and alcohol were the last things on my mind. I seemed to be more fixated on getting the months Nintendo Power magazine before everyone in my class or whether or not my mother would finally get me a PS2 or a Game Cube or an Xbox or a Gameboy Advance or whether or not that girl in class with the apple bottom liked me just as much as I liked her.
Imagine a world where in order to get to where you needed to everyone around you simply had to ride an elevator while you on the other hand constantly had to take the stairs because for you the elevator was always broken. Suddenly the climb up those stairs became the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest without a map and to add insult to injury the weather gets turbulent and before you know it you’re left to your own device to weather the storm because not many people feel that they can help you out of the shithole that life has graciously decided it needed to throw you in. Take this wonderfully horrific analogy and you have my life in the jungle known as an education.