[***This is some Panama-length shit right here. What can I say? We had a good time and I had a lot to say. Get it right, two step, and let your shoulder lean. I also broke this into 4 completely non-sensical parts for those who like to read in spurts and need chapters. ***]

Part I: Some Say The End Is The Beginning

As I wrote yesterday in the pseudo-advertisement for the weekly Wednesday night Stock 13 Open Mic joint at Bohemian Caverns, last night was my last time hosting so I wanted to go out with a bang.

Umm…damn.

Bang.

Let me tell you something. Esther Phillips has has an album and a song called “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes”. Dude, what a difference a designated driver makes! So for real…I’m slightly hungover at work right now typing this.

Shoutouts to the bartenders and waitresses at Bohemian Caverns on Wednesday nights. Rum and cokes and shots of tequila make Panama a very sleepy sexxy muhfucka.

That’s how we get down at the Caverns.

What if I started calling myself Panama F. Sexxy, please say the Sexxy? How dumb would that be? And how is it that Lil Wayne can say that and its like the coolest shit ever? Inquiring minds would like to know. I mean you can’t tell me he’s cooler than me…right?

Right?!?

*hanging head in shame at attempts to raise my own self esteem…hold me*

Now I’m not quitting the hosting gig. Nothing like that at all. Hell, I love doing it. For real. The format is changing to a comedy showcase and since I’m neither a comedian or a showcase…nor a tall white man named Jim, a different host is coming in who specializes in comedy. And he’s supposed to be well worth his weight in gold. But that’s a different talk show. Somebody call Oprah.

Speaking of Oprah, did you all hear about Bobby and Whitney getting a divorce? Apparently, Whitney’s name is not Susan so she filed for divorce. From here on out, every little step Bobby Brown takes will be away from the fortunes of Whitney. Sure hope she had a pre-nup. That ninja shouldn’t have been humping around. Though I suppose, if you’re going to be humping around, you might as well do it with the person who’s been made famous because of it. Word to Paris Hilton.

And is it me, or does anybody ELSE wonder why Superhead didn’t opt to change her name at some point? I understand that being super at anything is worthy of note. Superman comes to mind. Perhaps super sleuth, even. But Superhead? Then again, Wonderhead doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. And this of course assumes that you simply must have the word “head” in your title. People need to go through a nickname verification and certification at some point in their life.

Then again, this is coming from a cat who has a different name for every day of the week to include both a stripper name and a porn star name (Gemini Peters) and who actually likes referring to himself as Mr. Oh So Sexxy.

Chuuch. So back to the point.

You know who else is worth their weight in gold? The ELs. That’s the house band that has been there the last two weeks. Last week, they didn’t really get a chance to show what they could do due to a scheduling glitch in the Jada Pinkett, but alas, this week…they showed their asses.

When I tell you they were rocking from the moment they started until they started packing up…well, I guess that would be me telling you they were rocking from the mome…

Hell, you get the point. They played old school classics, rap, soul…they even hit Jay-Z’s “Public Service Announcement” which sparked an impromptu freestyle session between me and two other cats at the front door. No lie. We took ‘em to college with that one. But we’ll get back to the freestyling in a minute. I don’t think any of them even know that I have this blog, but in the event that they come thru…

…word life? They rocked that shit. I’d pay money to see these brothas play and back some folks.

The ELs, y’all. No diggety.

Part II: This Is The Second Part

So let’s get into the proceedings.

One of the most important facets of putting together this little shindig is getting the vibe and energy right. Russ, the promoter, is a stickler for this. He doesn’t like slow energy and really isn’t so big on the spoken word poetry shit. Not because he can’t appreciate it, but because he wants the energy to be vibrant and vivverent (or whatever the fuck Q-Tip called it). Folks doing shit with the band is how he wants it so that even if the folks blow ass, the audience can still jive with the band.

So what would Jesus do? He’d hit that shit.

Oops.

What would Panama do?

Put a chick up who does spoken word poetry without the band.

*scratching head*

Yeah. Oops. Luckily, she was good. Goes by the name Drisona. I don’t even remember what the first one was about but the second one started with this statement: “This is for my soon to be ex-husband.”

Ears perked. I always love bitter love tales. Seriously. Not because I don’t believe in love, I just like the emotions that ninjas have when they really got some shit on their hearts and minds.

Since there’s no good time to do this, let me go ahead and tell you that last night was like a damn blogger’s reunion and shit. Oh, and I’d like to go ahead and nominate myself for: Ninja Who Could Have Gotten The Most SkyMiles If I Combined All Of My Guests Travel Miles To Be In DC Last Night.

Or NWCHGTMSIICAOMGTMTBIDCLN.

Let me run down right quick the bloggers that were there. Well you have Panama F. Sexxy (please say the sexxy), Brutha Code, Xquizzyt1, The After Party Hostess, and Honest. I haven’t seen some of them in quite some time so it was REALLY good to see them in the hizzouse. Fa shizzle dizzle.

I actually have a friend who calls me Dizzle.

Now if we carry the 1, and you include the folks that I had in there and their skymiles, you had Brutha Code in there from Japan. I had two of my friends in there from the Dominican Republic and one of them is leaving for Chile. And for you geographically challenged and ignant bastards out there…it’s not Chile as in “oooh chile, he shole is ugly.” It’s Chile like chili, only its a country in South America.

Don’t act like somebody didn’t know that.

*wagging finger and the dog*

Back to the lecture at hand. My man Joe Young The Jyant came through and laced the crowd with a rap jam. Dude, when was the last time you actually heard somebody say rap jam? Never you say? Whatever you say.

I must issue a formal apology here. The dude Komplex got up next and straight KILLED it. If you from the hood I know you feel me (keep going…). So in what can only be entitled the Great Miscommunication of 2006, I gave Kom a signal to keep going. Only, my dumb ass apparently gave the universal sign for wrap it up. Now I usually point to my watch when I want folks to wrap it up, so I’m thinking on my own terms. Well, after murdering it, he gets off stage and I’m confused because like I said, I thought I told him to keep going…oy vey…

Let’s just say, if you need anybody to umpire your kids baseball game, in game 5 of a best of 5 series to determine the area championship…I will inevitably blow a call or two. And be the subject of much ire.

Komplex…I apologize (believe me I do).

Well, Komplex brought two of his boys with him and the first cat Lamont, got up there and did a spoken word joint. Fair enough. But he ALSO brought this dude named One Wise African. I assume I’m spelling that right but you know how black folks get with their spelling of their names and shit. Well, this ninja gets up there in a tuxedo.

I swear, I didn’t even see him before this or I might have had to put the kabosh on that shit. Or AT LEAST…did a much better intro. A tuxedo provides so much fodder for…hell, clownage. I wish I could tell you if he was good or not but I can’t. He had on a tux. That’s all I saw. And heard. The jacket was white.

What’s that you say? You’re wondering if he came from somewhere that required a tuxedo?

Call me Mr. Me Too.

At least he rocked with the band.

Part III : Rounding 3rd Base

Speaking of rocking with the band. I was feeling it last night. Not feeling it as in, I’m drunk (that didn’t come until later) but the band hit that Dr. Dre “Xplosive” joint and in the crowd I see my mans and ‘nem Rashad and Sekani yelling “freestyle”.

So what does Panama do?

Says fuck it and just started freestyling. Now let me tell you something about his Royal Highness Panama. Me + Freestyle does not equal success. Or at least not in the technical sense. You’ll have fun watching me have fun on the microphone. If it’s one thing I can do…its finger roll.

You see, I have very little shame. It takes very little prodding to get me to sing or dance or do anything fun. In fact, invite me out to go karaoke-ing with you. We’ll have fun.

So I busted some raps and shit. I’m sexxy like that.

Well, we had this cat coming through named Manrock. He’s from New Jersey. Small world because he’s knows a chick I know from Spelman. Apparently its his cousin. Small world. Small world.

Well RIGHT before he gets up there, I straight DEBO Sekani into getting up on stage to freestyle. Talk about bullshitting for a second but he got up there and freestyled for a second.

And I appreciate that. Funny shit about that is, it seems like more people in there wanted him to get up and freestyle than see anything else. Everybody broke cameras out. Good times.

And good damn job Sekani. Where’s my CD ninja!!?!?!?!

By the way, Sekani is one of the guys who helps Russ put the event on as well. You can listen to a few of his songs (he’s a black dude so he’s a rapper/artist on the main page for the entire shebang, Stockholm 180). He’s one of the mans behind the man. And in today’s day and age that is a very gay statement so I’d like to add a big no brokeback (not that there’s anything wrong with that) to that entire sentence.

Manrock came and showed out…bling and all. He was feeling the energy or something because not only did he keep going for longer than he was supposed to, as soon as he got off stage he was talking about coming back next week.

Comedy.

If you get the pun that just occurred and you have breasts and look good outside of a club, I will marry you.

The highlight for me was that Asheru came through again. For those that don’t know who he is, if you’ve ever watched an episode of The Boondocks, you’ve heard him. He does the theme song. Either way…he put on a good show. I was happy.

I am Panama F. Sexxy.

You know, I’m really still tipsy at work right now and shit. This could very well be a problem.

We had two comedians come through and provide jokes. Sean Gabbert and Eric Meyer. Both were funny. People laughed. Not much more that I can say there.

Part IV: 44 Fours

I came I saw I conquered…from record sales to sold out concerts.

As usual, DJ Scientific and Grap Luva (who was AWOL for a good 10 minutes requiring me to be the hype man for the afterparty for a few…which I actually really liked doing for some reason…that was fun), get on and lead the afterparty into the wee hours.

But let me say something else right quick and do a shout out to some of my folks in the blogworld. Yesterday was the 10th anniversary of Tupac’s passing so I made sure to add to the September 13th Thug Awareness Day movement started by the homies OJ and Killacal. I even made sure that folks knew to go and Hug-A-Thug. Hell, I even wore my West Coast attire complete with bandana, Dickies, and Chucks.

Shit, ’twasn’t nothing but a gangsta party.

Well, do you know I had to REQUEST Tupac records?? For fuck’s sake, it’s his death anniversary (word to Nas). DJ Scientific is my homey but he’s clearly not a Tupac fan…EVIDENCED by the fact that this cat wore his Biggie shirt. I’m a black man and hereby paranoid so I assumed he did that on purpose.

Real talk…two people actually told me they were leaving because of that slight. Now, I take my rappers seriously but there’s one thing you do not mess with Southern Negroes about…and that’s Tupac. The dudes that left? Southern Negroes. Word life.

The afterparty was hot. I got my dance on…a lot. More liquor consumption occurred and the people were looking good in there last night. I hope they put the pictures up on the site (www.stock13.net) for this joint soon. Or at least that they put them up at some point. From what I saw…there were some very good pictures taken.

So what does it all mean?

It means a good time was had by all.

It means that we took the last Open Mic segment out on a good note.

It means that The ELs are that shit.

It means that Panama F. Sexxy enjoyed himself and met some nice new people.

And it means that on Wednesday’s at the Stock 13 joint…meet me at Bohemian Caverns…

…its going down.

I know you see it.

I believe it was the great philosopher Robert “R” Kelly who in 1990 so eloquently stated, in a public announcement no less:

“Vibe. Vibe. Viiii-iiiibe.”

I shed a tear for the brilliance of his statement. You won’t find any better illustration of genius than the composition of those three exclamatory statements, people. That is thought at work.

Such was the case last night at the weekly Wednesday get up a get get get down Stock 13 travelling band and show. Okay, so its not really travelling as its quite stationarily located at everybody’s favorite historic cave of illuminestasticnesence (okay, so if you’re making up words, does it matter if you spell them correctly?), Bohemian Caverns.

2001 Eleventh Street, NW at the corner of 11th and U Streets, NW.

Woosah.

You can put all the pieces together but you cannot fabricate a vibe. And the vibe comes from the people. If the people collectively aren’t really in a good mood, you’re night just might be shot to shit. However, if you bring together the right collection of people…

…you just might get an engagement.

In a cave.

I see you looking at the screen like…”huh? Somebody proposed last night at Bohemian Caverns? For real? In the cave???”

Scrunched up face, huh?

You may now call me Mr. Me Too.

That’s the kind of excitement we bring to the table. It’s spiked red Kool-Aid.

I guess I got my swagger back…

So let’s get into what I learned last night, which is really less about education and more about just finding a way to tell you about the evening. Some of you were there last night as I forced everybody to repeat after me a phrase that will be coming to screen-printed t-shirts in a small town near you: Google Panama Jackson.

It don’t get no righter.

1O THINGS I LEARNED LAST NIGHT WHILE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHY MORE FOLKS FROM DOWN SOUTH AIN’T AT THIS BAD BOY…TAKE THAT TAKE THAT

1. “It’s not how many people you shoot, it’s who you shoot.” ~ Quick (Eddie Murphy) in Harlem Nights

The house was not packed last night…well let me rephrase. Nearly everybody had a place to sit for a large part of the evening, but the collection of people that was there was a good one. It seemed like most people were actually enjoying themselves. And if they weren’t???

I smiled and forced everybody to clap as much as possible. I like clapping. Not to be confused with “the clap” which much like cancer, is just bad for your health. You know, I JUST realized that I referred to myself as a Carebear last night.

Oy, vey.

I couldn’t do that if the people in there weren’t in good spirits. And speaking of good spirits…

2. Inebriation is not a job, it’s an adventure.

This is more of a personal note, but I honestly cannot remember how many Rum & Coke’s I had last night. It’s somewhere in the neighborhood (I think) of 7-10. Throw in two shots of tequila and vodka and presto changeo…

…inebriated at work the next morning. Not a hangover…just still slightly “under the weather.”

Meet me at Stock13…it’s going down. And I will drink with you in a heartbeat. I’m European like that.

I like bartenders and cocktail waitresses.

Cocktail is a funny word.

3. If you build it, they will come.

So this cat named Mike Andrews was performing last night. East New York, BK Stand up. Real cool cat. But when I tell you he brought out his entire phonebook…well it seemed like it anyway. And they were right up in front too. I like supportive friends and family, I really do. He got up and did two pieces. And you know what, he was quite hype about it and once again, I like hypeness because it works its way into the crowd and if we’re all hype then we can all have a good time. So good job Mike for bringing it.

And in case you don’t know, Mike’s tired of a lot of that same old crap. Though I have to disagre with him on one point, and this could be the southerner in me, but umm…

…I’m STILL not tired of making my shoulder lean (shoulder lean shoulder lean).

Get it right (two step and make your shoulder lean).

4. “…but then again, you’re not from Idlewild…”

Sony/BMG had a rep in the house last night so we had a mini-listening party for the Idlewild soundtrack. I’m an Outkast fan and as far as I’m concerned they’re the best rap group ever. And umm…fuck Wu-Tang (big ups to The Champ). As apart of the promotion, the rep had me give out some free CD’s by making folks in the crowd answer some questions.

Let me introduce you all to Jasmine (sp?). I like Jasmine, she’s fun. So much energy I tell you and she loves her some Outkast…just couldn’t tell me where they were from to save her life.

The first question: “We all know that Outkast is from Atlanta…but where specifically in Atlanta…”

Jasmine: *standing up and letting me know that she knows* Decatur!!!!!!

Panama: WRONG!

Jasmine: *shooting me daggers*

Some other chick in the back (forgive me for forgetting her name): East Point!!!!

Panama: East Point and what?? You cant’ say East Point without the rest…

Other Chick: COLLEGE PARK!!

Panama: Sold!!

Boy, that Jasmine gave me the look to end all looks. But I know she’s a ‘Kast fan because she sho’nuff threw in West Savannah (where Big Boi is originally from) which means she still listens to Aquemini.

And any Outkast fan is a friend of mine.

Speaking of Outkast…which I’ve done a lot just now, do you know how many folks got this next question I asked wrong? A lot.

The question: What was Outkast’s first hit? Answer: Player’s Ball.

Everybody thought it was Southernplayalisticcadillacmusick. Crazy.

5. Holla at ya hustler.

Komplex came through again and you know, he puts on one helluva a performance. You can tell he does this for a living (plus he carries a credit card machine with him to make sure you don’t have a reason to not buy something). I heard lots of “okays” and “that’s right” while he was doing his pieces. Felt like I was in church for a second. Good thing nobody got to yelling Amen because that would have been a violation of church and state.

And no, I have no clue why I just wrote that or how it could even possibly fit into anything. All I’m saying is Komplex is one hell of an artist.

And oh yeah, holla at ya hustler. 6. Nervousness has no place in the Cave…

…especially when you perform there everyweek. I’m not calling out any names (Madeline), I’m just saying. The kid Joe Young (the Jyant) and Madeline kicked things off for us again and the band gave them a nice melody to work with. I don’t know why you were worried, ma’am, you did great. I like these two, they alwyas come through and they’re supportive. When you’re trying to build something, these are the kinds of folks you need around. Thanks.

And mad shout outs (word life) to the band Cut The Check. Sometimes I feel like they don’t get enough credit for the soundscape they provide, but these dudes are some bad mamajammas.

7. Smuv

Admittedly, I wasn’t 100 percent sure what kind of show these brotha’s were going to bring. I talked to them ahead of time and they are some down to earth cool cats. And because I’m a closet racial profiler, when I see some black men wearing the DC/MD area originals, I tend to think of rappers and the like. Plus, you know every black man is a rapper at heart. For real. So when they got up on stage I was sitting in the crowd talking to somebody and then WHAM!!!

Butterfly by Michael Jackson.

I so didn’t see that coming. And they did a good job, I’m just saying, they had that we finna bust some rhymes look and they started singing. I can’t remember what the second song was, at that point I was running around all over the place, but, yeah, SMUV….you betta know dat.

8. Let’s talk comedians if you don’t mind.

We had three comedians come through, Sean Joxe, Antoine Blackman, and Lawrence Owens. One of my boys, The Great, was in attendance as he’s just moved up to DC for a while and this dude was in tears from laughing so hard.

Word to the wise ladies…if you start dating a man, and he has a tattoo on the small of his back, he’s gay.

According to Antoine Blackmon, even it’s a tech9 and some pitbulls…he’s gay.

Something else I wasn’t aware of, courtesy of Lawrence Owens: the difference between breasts and titties. He has a 4 part distinction. If you’re up on the comedy scene and you can see these dudes, I highly recommend it…they had me dying laughing. Trust me…

9. DJ Scientific knows how to read his crowds very well.

You know how some DJ’s just plain suck? Like, they play shit they like in the middle of a set that’s going so-so. For instance, say you’re at a party with a bunch of ninja’s from the ‘hood who want to hear T.I. all night. So the DJ is playing what they want to hear then decides aww fuck it, I really want to hear some George Michael right now…and yes, I’ve been to a party where the DJ has done some shit like that.

Scientific on the other hand kept the party moving with songs that made everybody say “OH SHIT…THATS MY SHIT” nearly every time he went to a new song. And I like to dance, so I was up a lot…a lot a lot.

If you’re hot, you should come dance with me. Open invite…

Shouts to DJ Scientific.

10. Rain can keep people away…

…and it sure did last night, but the folks that did come through…had a damn good time because I know I did and I’m whats important. Me me me. Okay, that’s not really true…but thanks to everybody who came out and didn’t ask me to buy them any drinks…

…my wallet’s on strike right now anyway.

Stock 13 at Bohemian Caverns…it’s going down. Every Wednesday…you betta know dat.

And oh yeah, this is the shirt I wore last night. I’m going to do some free publicity for this company because I like the stuff they have on their site. Plus I wear shirts similar to what they sell all the time.

ATL Roots

Well it’s a shirt that has this on it…and it’s true I do…One Love!!!

[***EDIT: And wouldn't you know it, I've ALREADY gotten an email from somebody saying...you'll buy me a drink if I come thru right??? I swear...that's going up there on the list of things you can't even come close to putting in the same sentence, free and drinks. I love people. Makes mouths happy! ***]

I don’t know if you noticed or not, but I’ve been on quite a roll lately. I’ve a post up nearly everyday since Thursday. For me, that’s somewhat miraculous.

What, I look like The Afterparty Hostess or something??

Methinks not.

Anyway, for all of my folks in Washington, DC…come thru tonight to Bohemian Caverns for that live action super hyphy crunk what yo’ mama gave ya get down (get down) so good it will make you wanna slap yo’ mama entertainment.

Plus, you got Mr. Oh So Sexxy himself (that’d be me) handling the hosting duties guaranteeing we keep it moving (yeah yeah to the K.I.M.).

In fact, any of you boho’s that comes thru and comes to holler at me and tells me that you came because you saw me doing all this talking up shit on this site…well I’ll give you a handshake because drinks are expensive.

No for real though, I actually wonder if anybody has come because of me advertising it on here…that’s not exactly a question. I don’t know if I can take rejection.

Of course, if one person rolls through and says, “hey Panama…you don’t know me but I read your site…what’s up with a drink or something for coming and spending money and shit to get in here??”

I might be inclined to pony up on that one.

Panama loves the people.

About as much as Trick Daddy loves the kids.

Straight from the promoter’s mouth…here’s what’s going down tonight:

So for tonight, Sony/BMG is gonna be in the house doing a listening party and giving away promotional material from 6 to 7:30pm for that new IdleWild joint that Outkast just finished. And as usual, I got three headliners for tonight…I got a group outta Baltimore who is supposed to be dope, but I can’t say for myself because the guys in the band told me about these dudes. But I’ve never heard them myself so that part of the show is gonna be the mystery meat. But for the comedians, we got Joxe and Lawrence Owens to cap off the night. Long-time comedy promoter Tracey Wiggs is bringing those comedians in, so I don’t really know these guys either. But he told me they’re funny and will be perfect for the spot. I hope so, cuz one thing I have learned…y’all are a tough crowd. But that’s good because if somebody can entertain in the Cave, they can entertain anybody anywhere. It’s all gonna build up to something real soon…but until then…

Also we got this cat named Mike Andrews coming through…making sure you get a shout out kid. He’s a spoken word artist/poet that loves hiphop.

Speaking of Idlewild…have you seen it yet? I’m not recommending it one way or another. I’ve actually been planning on doing a movie review of it. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow or later today…who knows.

Nobody knows that’s who knows.

BOHEMIAN CAVERNS
2001 ELEVENTH ST NW
CORNER OF 11TH AND U ST NW
WASHINGTON, DC 20001
202-299-0801
COMEDY & BAND 6PM-10PM IN THE CAVE
DJ SCIENTIFIC FROM 10-2AM
ACROSS FROM U ST/CARDOZO ON GREEN LINE

And because I get like NO shoutouts unless I do them myself (and you know how much I hate talking about myself)…Panama Jackson on the hosting duties…

…and I’ll be wearing some Mardi Gras beads.

What would you do for some Mardi Gras beads (and no I ain’t giving up your beads!!)?

Viva la New Orleans!

For those folks who are wondering what it is we do at this here Stock 13 Band and Show at the historic Bohemian Caverns (word to Ramsey Lewis), trudge on over to the Stock 13 Report, a blog I started so that I can chronicle some of the goings ons in the Cave. Reading is fundamental.

See you tonight, if you’re in DC (maybe) and holla at your boy!

Boy stop!

Where were you last night between the hours of 8pm and 2am?

If you live in Washington, DC, and weren’t at Bohemian Caverns for the Stock 13 Open Mic and After Party you were definitely in the wrong place.

So says Panama.

He’s sexxy.

And do you know why he’s sexxy?

Why?

Because he’s taken to speaking of himself in the third person. He’s sexxy enough to do that.

I realize that there the majority of the people who read this site do not live in DC. However, I write about this stuff so that you will all want to come and live here and move here so I won’t be wonewy (I’m so wonewy). Plus, when I have a good time, I want to share the good times with the masses. Minus, I was out of town last week so I wasn’t hosting last week so it felt good to be home.

Kind of in two ways too because it felt good to be back down South and it felt good to be back in the Caverns hosting the joint.

Okay, enough with all of this mumbo jumbo. Let’s get to the evening. Like I was doing before, I’m going to share 10 things I learned last night about that may or may not actually have anything to do wtih anything I learned. Kind of double positive negative.

And I almost think I need to start doing a Panama T-Shirt watch. You see, I kind of accidentally started a precedent of wearing off-brand t-shirts. Well, its become part of the night as lots of random people come up to me wanting to know whats on my shirt. The pressure is on now since I have to make sure that I come with that new-new (new-new for you-you).

This is the shirt I wore last night…and umm, this shit bodes SO well for quite a few people out there:

Oh yeah…

…SNAKES ON A PLANE!

10 THINGS I LEARNED WHILE TOSSING BACK RUM AND COKES COURTESY OF THE BEST BARTENDERS THIS SIDE OF NORTH CAPITOL STREET

1. Open Hour means jack shit to some people…

…and I, for one, couldn’t be happier. You see we have this happy hour from 6-7pm right. But nobody shows up. Like at all. By 630pm, the only people at the happy hour were me, Tom P. (this cat who gets on the congas during the show and during the afterparty he plays with the DJ…real cool cat, you should come and check him out), Russ (the promoter), and the bartenders. And do you know what that means? Yes, bitches. No waiting for drinks for Mr. Oh So Sexxy.

Man, this one particular bartender, Carl (not sure if it’s with a K or a C) was straight hooking me up all night. Good dude. And let me tell you why he’s a good dude. You see, I really wanted to pay for one of my drinks so I could give him a tip because all I had was a $20 bill. So you know what this kind soul did? Because I wanted to pay, he requested that I take a shot of Patron with him because I wanted to pay.

You see, it’s stuff like that that makes me proud to be an American.

Either way, fuck it, mo’ fo’ me.

Hmm…$5 dollars to anybody who can tell me what movie that last sentence came from.

2. It’s not the amount of people, it’s the vibe and spirits of the people there.

It seems to me that we’ve had more people packed inside of Bohemian Caverns before. Hell, I could actually walk around without molesting everybody in there. But let me tell you, the vibe in there was definitely good. It seemed like everybody wanted to have a good time, plus me chiding everybody to pretend like they loved eachother might have helped lighten the mood a little. The band was having a good night (it seemed), the women looked lovely, it was magic.

Okay, that’s way to fluffy and lie induced, but anyway…shit was cool. Basically, you should have been there.

3. It’s a small world after all.

So let me put you onto game. Two weeks ago, I was talking to random folks in the club right. Well, I run into this cat that looks really familiar. I’m like, “son, do I know you? where are you from?” He says Atlanta. Then it clicked. This was a dude who went to college with my older sister and used to hang with my brother-in-law like really tough. Catch is, I’ve only seen him ONCE in my life…like 5 years ago. Apparently he works in DC.

But last night takes the cake. So your boy Komplex (I’m going to talk about him in a few), got on the stage and started talking about rap vs. hip-hop and said he wanted to slap the shit out of a lot of the southern rappers right now. Understandable sentiment. Well, when he was done, I made sure to shout out the South and noticed these three fine young ladies who were hootin’ and hollerin’ from down South.

Later in the night I went to go speak to them because we were like the only folks in the whole damn place from down South. Turns out, that one of the women used to date a dude who used to date my Godsister in Huntsville, Alabama. If that doesn’t make for a small world, I don’t know what does. Another one of them knows some folks I know from Morehouse, but Hell, when you go to Morehouse, there’s ALWAYS somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody.

Morehouse Men just have it like that. We’re something like some pimps.

And the other one??? Well, she happens to work with one resident blogger that we all know ’round here, big Will from In My Write Mind up in New York. See, small world.

If you somehow end up on this site because you told Will that you met me…”hello.”

Oh, and me, heh heh heh, I’m kind of a big deal.

4. When the show is going well, it seems to go really well.

So we kicked things off with this young lady named Shelby, who got up there and after a few seconds of trying to coordinate with the band just said, to hell with it, “I’m going to start singing and the band will just pick it up.” And by George (Paul, Jon, and Ringo) they sounded good together. The band picked up a nice smooth mellow sound from her and rolled with it. And the crowd said yay-men.

Then Joe Young the Jyant, Madeline, and Dope (I swear I hope that’s what he said, even TODAY I still think I’m getting it wrong) got up and did their song “(This Must Be) Heaven”, which is funny, because I was listening to the original song that the music is sampled from all day yesterday. Must be heaven indeed.

Viva la Jesus.

5. That boy Mic Fields continues to be a bad man.

When he turns it up, he turns it up. I’ve spoken about him before on here, but he had it going last night. The crowd was feeling it and he kept it moving pimpin (you don’t know me). Just like with the other performers, when everything is moving in the right direction, and we get it right (two step and let your shoulders lean), the stars seem to align. His closing number was hype and hell, even had me jumpin’ around a little (like Kriss Kross but not really at all).

6. Sometimes, I just got to represent for my Southern bredren because nobody else is around.

This poet Komplex did a set and I must admit he did his thing for real. He’s a very talented dude. But he ain’t feeling “rap” music. And I admit, a lot of Southern shit that comes out right now ain’t exactly the most positive (though I can admit to liking about 90 percent of it, D4L be damned). So he did his set, got the folks involved and I had to go back on stage and do a little Southern shoutout and make sure that though most folks claim to hate that Southern shit…it gets the clubs rocking. I had the band, Cut Tha Check, hit the 8Ball and MJG song “You Don’t Want Drama” and I’ll be damned if nearly everybody in there didn’t start bobbing their heads.

You can hate the Southern shit, but you can’t deny its infectiousness. Like Syphillis, it might not be good for you, but its catchy as all hell.

Ha ha, what you know about that?

Cuz we’re shooters…shooterrrrrrs.

7. Two good ass comedians can sho ’nuff set the night off…pleezbaleevit. Oh yeah, and if I ever get stopped by a particular cop in Baltimore, I’m SO getting off with a warning.

There were two comedians who came through last night, Eric T. Meiser and Timmy Hall. Eric is this goofy white dude who might be more ignorant than me. And let me tell you, this cat was SO fuckin’ funny I laughed the whole time. Admittedly, I don’t pay much attention to the comedians a lot of the time because save a few, some of them just don’t catch my attention. This dude…totally.

Off tha fo’ reely, you need to see this dude in action. There might not have been any group he didn’t take shots at. I mean, he even took shots at Hurricane Katrina victims…AND HE’S WHITE!!! Yes he’s going to Hell, but is he funny? Like America, FUCK YEAH!

Timmy Hall…what can I say about Timmy Hall? He’s an actual Baltimore City Police Officer, but he’s been on BET’s Comicview, HBO’s The Wire, etc. It’s like he just participates in ignorance all around!!! But I’ll be damned if he ain’t one of the funniest cat’s I’ve heard in a very long time. His routine went from being a punk ass police officer to marriage to his drunken and marijuana induced exploits.

And this nigga’s a cop. Very funny stuff indeed. You’d have enjoyed yourself. Yes, you should have been there.

8. A good damn DJ can make a good party even better than the good party that wasn’t quite the best that will eventually get gooder down by the riverside (down by).

DJ Scientific, a cat who’s been around for a while I gather is one hell of a party DJ. He’s a resident DJ at Love Nightclub in DC, he’s been on Rap City: The Bassment a few times, and has DJ’d at the last 6 Super Bowls. Either way, he’s a pretty damn good DJ. Nice mix of old and new stuff that kept the party moving. Though I will say, nothing trips me out more than a bunch of women on one end and a bunch of dudes on the other end like we’re in middle school.

9. LL just couldn’t live without his radio…well I just couldn’t do this shit without my Sidekick II.

Let me tell you. Nobody probaly notices at the venue, but me and Russ do so much communicating during the night its crazy. The text messages fly back and forth, the short communications that require yes or no answers fly all over the place. If I had to do texting on a real phone, it would never happen. At all. And I was about ready to chuck my Sidekick a while ago.

Which brings up another point. I don’t know if people really have any idea how much goes into doing these events. From the outside it looks like there aren’t a lot of parts. But let me tell you, there’s nothing but moving parts that move all night long until everybody leaves. And when done right, makes for a good party.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!

(Can’t you tell I’m like REALLY excited for this movie?!?!?)

10. This is a really good place to network and get to know new people.

You see, there are mostly a lot of working professionals coming through. But there are also a lot of down to earth folks and lots of beautiful women, especially last night…geee-yah. If you need to find a spot to go to on a Wednesday night and you’re in DC…I’m telling you, this is your place. Panama Jackson says so.

Umm, it’s also a place to go to see your game go down in flames. Last night I witnessed some pure travashamockeries in the form of game occur. Hell, I even tried to clean up one mess to no avail at all. I mean, I made good points but I was clearly bullshitting. They were nice enough ladies (it was the three fine chicks from down South), but yeah, even I couldn’t salvage the asstastic mess of pickup line/holler tactic this cat used. So sad…glad he ain’t me.

Anyway, these and other adventures can be found every Wednesday night at 2001 11th Street, NW, also known as the historic Bohemian Caverns.

It’s where we make it do what it do.

The Stock 13 Open Mic…it goes down!

“He gon’ think I’m a hoe…” - chick from “The Morning After” skit on The Love Below

That has nothing to do with anything. It’s just something I wanted to put up there for whatever reason.

I do my thing thing, son son.

Just like with last week, I’m gonna do a recap of sorts of the Open Mic event that went down last night in the form of things that I learned. You know, there may come a time where I don’t learn shit anymore at these. Perhaps all of the knowledge that is to be gained will have been gained therefore be ungainable, not to be confused with unbreakable (which managed to be both a horrible movie AND song…who’d a thunk it), but just not gainful like employment. Yes, sometimes I write things because I like to hear myself type.

*click* *click*

Let us begin.

10 Things I Learned At The Stock 13 Open Mic While Trying To Remember The Scientific Equation for Work

1. When I’m wrong, I’m very wrong.

A few days ago, I emailed Russ (the promoter AKA “The Man”) telling him that I thought last night would be slim on numbers. For those that don’t, Washington, DC, has been overrun by the men of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Further, there was a step show last night. DC has quite the educated Black professional crowd and lots of alumni of colleges, both HBCU and un-HBCU, which means that there are a whole shitload of Greek folks in DC. Hell, for a time, I thought it was a requirement that every Delta spend at least one year living in DC since you can’t throw a rock around here without hitting a car with a DST license plate something or other on it.

All that to say, I thought everybody would be out at the step show. Fast forward to 930pm. Three words:

Standing. Room. Only.

And even that might be underselling the point. That place was so packed with people. Young, old, white, black. I even think I saw a small chihuahua trying to gain admission, but he wasn’t on the guest list so we turned him away. Hell, there were Alphas there. I figured they’d be out doing Alpha things. Nope, they were at the Open Mic. So, Russ, I was wrong. You were right.

Score: Russ - 1. Panama - 0.

2. I’m now a firm believer in stereotypes.

People say it isnt right to stereotype. To those people I say, fuck you. Not that I’m exactly sharing anything new, but Black folks are the LATEST muhfuckas on the planet. I’m starting to believe its coded in our DNA. Perhaps my myriad attempts at punctuality are merely a mask for the fact that I really want to be late but I’ve been socialized to think that being on time is necessary. So why do I say all of this?

Doors open at 6pm, right? Well, I know getting somewhere at 6pm is difficult. Hell, I can’t even get there by 6pm. So what do you do to bring people early? Drink specials. Free food. Or the capper: Open bar.

We had an open bar and there were like 8 people there from 6-7pm. Maybe 11 people. See, this is why I thought we’d be slim on numbers as well. Add to the fact that by 815pm, I had MAYBE 5 people on the list to perform, be it comedy or open mic, in TOTAL.

By 845pm? I’m having to turn people away. All of a sudden folks want to come up and holla at the kid (Panama Jackson, perhaps you’ve heard of him) to get on the list.

We usually get started between 815pm and 830pm. Do you know what time we’d LIKE to start? 7 something.

And its because Black people are late and are in turn making the white people late too! I think that’s what Bill Cosby said…something like that.

3. If you’re a comedian and you show up and tell the same jokes week after week, say, like, three times in a row, I will begin to hate you.

Well, I suppose that kind of said it all, didn’t it?

4. I don’t have patience for overly arrogant fuckers who like to tell me how I need to be doing things.

Have you ever met somebody who told you what you should do to make your shit better, but do it in a way that totally turns you off? Probably, huh? I meet them all the time. Fuck them. Let’s just say that I only listen to one person in the entire place when it comes to how we’re gonna do shit, Russ. Any other muhfucka who comes up to me and tells me what I should do because of what he brings to the table and how he can singlehandedly keep people coming back despite any proof can essentially kiss my ass. And make my shit list.

5. Apparently I missed out on the best opportunity in life to score women, the ability to sing.

Let me tell you something. A black man that can sing, even in a cave, will get the women screaming and shit. There’s this cat that got up and sang named Brandom Neloms. Well apparently, he has quite the fandom because as soon as I even mentioned his name women started screaming.

The last time somebody screamed because I was on the mic, somebody got stabbed behind me.

Okay, thats not really true…nobody screamed for me then either.

6. Mic Fields is a bad man.

Mic Fields (MySpace page here) is this cat from UVA who comes and is part of the closing of the Open Mic part every week. Last night, he had that shit ROCKING. Performance is such a big part of any artists repertoire that if you suck on that end, well, you essentially suck period. That is not a problem for him. He did two songs and both of them got a great response. I had planned on hyping him up a little after he got off stage but he shut shit down so thoroughly I didn’t have to say anything. I feel like if they weren’t already fans, he probably made quite a few new fans. He’s a good dude, and he definitely laid it down last night.

7. Speaking of laying it down, the band, Cut The Check, is a group of talent mofo’s.

Last night I really listened to them play. I’m usually running around talking to everybody when they do their opening set and when folks perform and use them I tend to be focused on something else. But last night I really listened and watched as they on the spot learned a song Mic Fields brought in by doing what??? Listening to the shit on his iPod. And they cold rocked it. Talented cats for real.

8. DC has some funny ass comedians.

So, for the comedy part of the night, we tend to bring in people specifically. It’s not as much of a comedy open mic as the other part may seem. Mostly because we want folks to laugh so some scouting work has been done to bring folks in. I can’t find websites for both of them, but these cats Eddie B. (who hosts a joint at U-Turn every Sunday from 6 to and Seaton Smith (who hosts a joint at Bossa Nova in Adams Morgan every Thursday at like 9pm) were funny as hell to me. Seaton especially because he made mention of the fact that he isn’t gangsta because he wears flip flops.

Talk about truth. I have a whole theory behind that myself so it was just good to know that me and Michael Jackson aren’t the only ones who are not alone.

Randomly speaking, do you know that my sexxy was questioned last night? Me and this young lady who was part of the event (in fact I’ll get to that next) were having a full out debate about who was sexxier. She started polling people and all the women were like, I have to side with my sister and dudes, well, are dudes. I demand a damn recount. You see, nobody said I wasn’t sexxier, they just didn’t want to answer.

Similarly, I had on a tshirt last night that might be one of the most ignorant shirts I’ve worn in a long time. And I do ignant. It’s my forte. The shirt said “I Support Single Moms” and had a picture of a chick on a stripper pole. Boy, folks either hated or loved that shirt. Seems that more people loved it. I suppose ignorance is at an all time high in this country.

And I for one…am proud.

9. Clubbing for charity always seems to bring out more people.

The young lady who questioned my sexxy was there with a guest list of lots of people who were there to donate money to a charity (the chartiy eludes me right now). I’ve noticed this in my club going experiences…when folks can get drunk for a cause, they seem to be more likely to support it. It’s like, folks don’t want to make club owners richer, but they’ll get fucked up on some Patron for children in Africa. Such seems to be the case. The last two events we had which were jam packed had a list for donations for a cause. And it helps to bring people out. Nevermind the clear conflict of interest in getting drunk to raise money for a battered woman’s shelter (that wasn’t the case or charity last night). I just think its great that folks will party if they know its for a good cause.

Moral of the story: Before you throw your next party, get a damn charity to support.

10. You should probably come party with us if you’re in DC.

Seems like a folks have a good time. Potentially you want to have a good time as well. If you’re looking for something to do on a Wednesday night, you should probably fall through. Seems like a no-brainer to me. Then again I’m sexxier than most so what is a no-brainer for me might not be for the masses.

*snicker*

And Lysette Titi…has a wonderful voice and she sang my song, “Young, Sad, and Blue” and I was happy as a pig in slop. She has some good songs and had my ass going groupie for a good second until I realized that I am…Panama Jackson.

Stock 13 Open Mic at Bohemian Caverns…it goes down.

Once again, it’s Wednesday and once again, I’m doing a little promo for this even that I’m hosting at Bohemian Caverns in Washington, DC, at the corner of 11th and U Streets.

Or I would be if I didn’t turn straight fan a few minutes ago.

The promoter for this even sends out emails for everybody every Wednesday so that they know the event is going on. It’s usually a comical take on the last week or the future nights plans and the like.

Oh yeah, Open bar from 6-7pm.

Do you mind if I change subjects for a minute? So last week, there was free food from 6-730pm. When I tell you the mention of the word FREE turned some folks out…well, let’s just say it got real black in there real quick.

Stereotypes…food for the soul.

Anyway, apparently drink and food specials do wonders for the black psyche. The mere notion of free shit seems to be a driving force. Almost as if folks feel a need to be somewhere on principle alone…DESPITE HAVE TO PAY TO ENTER TO GET THE FREE SHIT.

I love people. I really do.

We crack me up.

Anyway, back to the fandom. So on this promotional email, as usual, there are some pictures from the previous evening. He even put up a picture of these three fine chicks who came in and completely ransacked all male attention upon arrival. And in true form, they were actually STILL cute after the camera captured their immortality. Seriously, I’ve seen some women in clubs amongst the dim lighting that look hot only to find out that she was Jabba The Huts slimmed down twin once we enter into the cool night’s air. And fuckin’ lights.

I’m sure women have that problem as well with uberfugly men.

Well, on this particular email, at the end (and seeing as I’m the host you’d think I’d know some of this shit up front…nope, I find out when everybody else does), he made mention that there was going to be a performer, by the name of Lysette Titi this evening.

Now for some reason, that name sounded familiar to me. Ah…she has a MySpace page.

Well fuck, who doesn’t?

So I went to her MySpace page and I’ll be a squirrel’s cousin if it isn’t the chick who had the phenomenal ass song “Young, Sad, and Blue” from like 1998. Apparently she lives in the DC area. And has been making music.

Thing is, why am I so excited that she’s gonna perform. I don’t think you know how much I loved her song back then. Hell, how much I still love it. One damn song. I’ve been wondering what the hell happened to her and now I know. Well, I suppose I don’t really know, but fuck…I suppose I can ask her. I’m the host and shit right?

Panama Jackson. Click here.

I still have the CD single from that song. I think me and my boys were like the only entire crew of folks who each had the single. The song was that damn good. Shucks, I’ve been listening to it all morning on her MySpace page. Anyway, I’m really excited about this. Which is especially funny considering I haven’t heard shit from her since 1998. That’s a full 8 years later.

Anyway, for those who might be interested:

Stock 13 Open Mic at Bohemian Caverns
Doors open at 6pm
$7 Cover
Open mic, live band, comedy

After party from around 10ish - 2am with DJ Source on the 1’s and 2’s
RSVP for reduced price admission to the Afterparty before 1045pm at www.stock13.net

Open Bar from 6-7pm

Hosted by the most gangster of them all: Panama Jackson AKA He Who Links Himself With Reckless Abandon

Guest performance: Lysette Titi (check out her MySpace page by clicking in her name)

I think I might start doing a weekly recap of the night before at Bohemian Caverns. I think I might start today. Well I suppose I won’t be thinking of starting today since I’m already something like *hold on*…

…37 words into this post and the clear intention was to write about what happened the night before.

And yes I really did count the number of words.

I’m sexxy like that.

Now mind you, I have a deal with the promoter who sponsors (I suppose that’s the word) the Stock13 Open Mic, as well as his monthly Stockholm 180 Charity parties, to do a write up for everybody to read. But the site is not up and running yet so I figured, what the hell, last night was interesting so I figured I’d write it up here.

I’m going to tell you how last night went by telling you some things I learned. In fact, that might become the running theme. What did Panama learn?

10 Things I Learned Whilst Sipping on One Too Many Long Island Iced Teas

1. Sometimes, it’s possible to forget that an open mic means anybody with aspirations of grandeur can show up and show their ass.

Before the joint got off and kicking, a Latino fellow approached me telling me that he wanted to sign up for the list. No problem, its an open mic, that’s what people do. I ask him what he wants to do and he informs me that he wants to rap. Check. I put him down. I proceed to talk to him further and he tells me, in a roundabout way, that he does lots of open mics. Cool. Even hands me a flyer of his with all of his contact information. This cool laid-back dude volunteers to go first, which if you’ve ever hosted an event you know is like pulling teeth. For some reason, every muhfucka thinks that they’re too good to go first. Like that’s proof that they haven’t made it.

Umm…Bohemian Caverns is a cave. If you’re ass is performing in a cave on Wednesdays…you haven’t made it yet. Just take my word for it.

Anyway, El Toro (yes that was fucked up for me to call the Latino fellow El Toro but fuck you anyway), gets up on the mic and it goes a little something like this:

El Toro: W’sup to all my Latinos. I’m touring on the East coast and heading to the Southwest and I’m doing this for all the fucking’ shit that muhfuckas talk about muhfuckin’ Latinos and that fuckin’ reggateon bullshit fuckin’ fuckin’ fuckin’ fuckin’ (add like 10 more of those) shit. Fuck all the folks that think us fuckin’ Latinos is on some fuckin’ shit. Fuck fuck fuck. Yo, DJ drop it…

Now, I’m no fan of reggaeton and for some reason its become the Latino identifying music. All of a sudden every Latino in America has determined that the ass melange that is reggaeton is really a force to be reckoned with. I happen to disagree so for about a split second, and despite the profanity-laced opening statement, I was at least glad there was one Latino who doesn’t fuck with reggaeton. However…

…if you’re gonna talk shit about something, at least be good enough to make me agree with you. What happened was kind of like the combination of too many drinks, too much energy, that Latino whistle, a Chevy, a shootout in East LA, and a black Primitive Baptist Church in Mississippi. You have no idea what that combines to create do you?

Neither did anybody else there. Nobody could understand shit he said except one word: FUCK!!!! Must be his favorite word. Either way, the point is that its easy to forget that open mic means open mic. And El Toro just might show up.

Or a white girl singing Beyonce songs and actually doing a good job with it despite technical difficulties. Understand…it’s going down at the Stock 13 Open Mic!!

(Wow that was long.)

2. This one is kind of common sense, but if you put enough grown ass folks in a room together and they start talking, not trying to holler, but actually talking, relationships and why men and women don’t understand eachother will inevitably become the soup du jour.

So yeah, as the host I tend to walk around and talk to any and everybody in the venue before the show starts up. Well I happened upon a group of three lovely young ladies and was told that one of them was going to perform. She said her name was Sexual Chocolate. Well, clearly, anybody who loves Coming to America enough to name themselves after Randy Watson’s band is alright with me. I don’t know how it happened, but a full fledge discourse on relationships, Black men in DC, Erykah Badu, and Southern living occurred. We must have conversated (since we’re black we are allowed to conversate, irregardless of whether or not its a real word) for a good half hour. Good times, I hope they come back. Especially Sexual Chocolate since I didn’t get a chance to drop the microphone while stomping my feet a few times then exiting stage left only to hear somebody in the audience say, “that boy good!”

3. I love the fact that at any majority-Black venue if you start doing HBCU shoutouts, folks will get hype at least for a second at the chance to rep their alma mater.

One of the dudes that performed a song goes to Alabama A&M University, which is in Huntsville. Well I went to high school in Madison, Alabama, which is a suburb of Huntsville. So of course we got to talking for a little while about the ‘Ville and shit. When it came time for me to introduce him, I decided to do a quick roll call since I know quite a few folks in there went to Hampton and Howard. That was cool. And of course you KNOW I had to let everybody know that Morehouse and Spelman were clearly the directions they should have gone, but they all probably could have done worse. You can tell a Morehouse Man, but you can’t tell him much.

Bitches.

EXTRA: So as SOON as I said I went to Morehouse you know what happened. I walked off of the stage to about 5 different folks asking me if I knew such and such that went to the ‘House. Which just proves the point that Morehouse Men run shit. Non-sequiter. Surely. I went to Morehouse, I’m sexxy, and I’m Panama.

Kiss my ass.

4. Some people just aren’t smart.

PSA: To all of my idiots out there, the two people you DO NOT want to heckle to a point where you’re pissing them off are: 1) Panama Jackson aka me aka The Host because I control the mic the whole night and will ALWAYS have the last word AND get you kicked out; and 2) FUCKIN’ COMEDIANS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can’t stress that enough. Why would you heckle Red Grant, the fuckin’ headliner, and most popular comedian in the joint as well as one that drew a crowd? Do you really think that you’re going to win that battle? Of course, somebody had to test their gangsta last night. Sometimes I think folks pride gets the best of them and they don’t know how to stop themselves once they start talking. In the famous words of whoever sang the damn song, “that’s what friends are fooooooooooooooooor…” If your friends let you get into a pissing contest with the two niggas in the place that are hands down going to clown you and make you look especially stupid, they aren’t your friends. Word life.

5. If its a majority-Black venue, and there are white people in attendance and there are comedians present, every comedian will talk about the white people.

Shit must be some kind of default. “My jokes are bombing, but I always have the white people to fall back on.” Though last night, none of the comedians really sucked or anything, but each and every one got on the white people at some point. Luckily there were a GANG of white folks there so they took in stride.

Though they were the LOUDEST fuckin’ unruly group of white folks ever until Red Grant quite seriously told them to shut the fuck up. Like seriously.

Total sonnage.

6. Comedians with no jokes who headline will go for a very long time if they don’t have a structured routine ready.

Annnnnnnnnnd such was the case with Red Grant. Funny cat, but to me he wasn’t even the funniest cat we had last night. He didn’t have any jokes for real. He just got up there and started talking for like 40 minutes. This dude named Marion Kendrick was way funnier to me. Which is even funnier since before he went on I set his ass up for trying to debo me on his spot in the lineup. I told the crowd that this nigga specifically told me he was going to shut the shit down.

Word to the wise: Do not fuck with the nigga who is running the event. It’s not a good look. Did you see The Five Heartbeats when the Host told the crowd that The Heartbeats said they were better than Bird and the Midnight Falcons and The Temptations all put together in one? Yeah…don’t fuck with me fool. He was cool though and he did shut shit down.

7. I really like women poets at open mics.

Do you know why? I’ll tell you why. Women tend to be more easy natured than men at these events. We’ll call it the Pride factor. This means that when a women goes up to perform and discusses something I have an opinion on, they usually take it in stride when I totally deconstruct whatever the fuck it is that they wrote. Men…not so much. Men need hugs. Or need to stop hugging so much since apparently, and according to Sexual Chocolate and Co., sensitive men are really getting a little carried away with their pussyness lately. Bottom line, women poets are a good lot. They’re a lot more interactive than dudes.

8. It’s always funny to see a man taking his friendship with a chick a little too far on the dance floor.

Let’s call it borederline harassment. Dancing with your friends is always a risky proposition. Say you get a little bit too touchy feely. Like say you just put your face in their breasts. I mean, isn’t that a bit much? Well once they back up that first time and remove your face from their breasts and then you proceed to place your hands on their buttocks in a rubbing manner and they remove them…shouldn’t the message be clear? Of course not. Which is why I believe women are better than men sometimes. There was good cause to slap the monkey shine shit out of this cat but it never happened. She just perseverently kept removing his hands, face, toenails, and credit cards from going places they shouldn’t have gone.

I love the 80s.

And no that doesn’t have shit to do with shit.

9. If you have enough liquor and enough folks who are old enough to remember and love BBD’s “Poison”, you will get a danceoff in the club.

It never fails. Trust me. And I swear the DJ must have been reading my blog because he played Bobby Brown’s “Don’t Be Cruel” and followed it up with Guy’s “Teddy’s Jam”. It’s like he was testing to see which got the better reaction. Of course I had to break out the Bobby Brown dance. Then a few of us started doing the Kid ‘N Play. Good times. Dancing can become quite the spectator sport when you got folks doing old dances that folks used to love. Oh yes, and I don’t like reggae very much. At all. If you want me to sit down at your party, play reggae for 30 minutes straight. I’ll sit.

10. It must suck to be the unattractive one in a group of fine women.

Not that this was so much the case last night, but let’s just say, the thought did dawn on me at one point. Oh yeah, I might as well mention this here. The whitest man in America was on the dance floor chopping it up something serious. And you know what? I wished I could have as much fun as he was having. He did the same dance all night. I even counted it off with a young lady next to me because he did all the moves in the same order. He reminded me of Kevin James in Hitch.

Well those are the things I learned last night. Either show up next Wednesday if you’re in DC or tune in next week to read about what goes down at the Open Mic where fun is had by all.

Until then…

[***This is what we will call shameless promotion. Follow me. ***]

Are you a poet?

Or perhaps a singer?

Or mayhaps you rap a little something something?

Do you just want to be seen somewhere and share whatever talent you assume you have with the masses because you just know that all it will take is once for your big break?

Do you live in the DC area?

If you answered yes to any of those questions, but most specifically yes to the last question (DC residentials beeyotch) then this Wednesday night, and subsequent Wednesdays, you should shake a tailfeather down to the historic Bohemian Caverns at 11th and U Streets, NW.

Why?

Because there is an open mic night followed by an afterparty followed by you going home and going to sleep waking up going to work for the next few days, interrupted by a weekend, then working for a few more days then VOILA…back to the open mic at Bohemian Caverns.

And it’s hosted by yours truly, the sexxiest cat this side of the River Jordan…Panama “Mr. Oh So Sexxy” Jackson.

You can check his blog here.

Seriously, how many folks do you know that are SO gangsta, they link to themselves in their own blogs?

No, seriously…

At the first event we had quite the turnout, even Raheem DeVaughn and W. Ellington Felton came through to hang out (neither performed). We had poets, singers, and comedians.

Hell, even I sang a song.

Kinda.

We had Grap Luva (brother of my favorite producer of all time, Pete Rock) holding down the crowd for the afterparty at Liv (upstairs at Bohemian Caverns).

At the second we had a lot of comedians come thru and crack jokes all night and a few poets/singers, etc.

But we need more. So if you got the talent, then we got the funk.

Backed by house band Cut The Check, it don’t get no righter.

So if you need something to do on a hot ass Wednesday, come down and hang with the coolest muhfucka on the planet, Panama Jackson at Bohemian Caverns. Doors open at 6pm with drink specials until 730pm. Open mic usually kicks off around 730 or 8 something until 10 something and the party goes until 2 something.

Shit, if its cool, we can do a lil something something. Get it? Got it.

Also, I linked myself again.

Somebody stop me!

So, bring your talented friends so we can get things on and poppin. Come ready to perform, and come ready to enjoy yourself at the Bohemian Caverns, each and every Wednesday.

Woosah.

Go to www.stock13.net to sign up for a discount for the afterparty.

Cost for Open Mic: $7 (that ain’t fine print neither)

I love the entertainment industry.

Where else can you live out your wildest dreams and be the person you always wished you could be despite obvious physical and aesthetic limitaitons or the constant failures of reality.

Such is the case with Def Jam’s resident songwriter/singer Ne-Yo.

It’s no secret that I watch video’s incessantly. Hell, I can spend a whole day just watching MTV Jams and vh1 Soul. This past weekend, I happened upon Ne-Yo’s new video for the song “When You’re Mad”. It’s not a bad song, though I do think that the song’s message, assuming the song catches on, will be wildly misconstrued and result in some poor sap getting his ass straight mollywopped by his girl for smirking when she’s truly pissed off.

Of course, that would require anybody to actually care about Ne-Yo and I suppose that’s another beast altogether.

I’ll get to the premise later. Let’s start with Ne-Yo.

I remember a long time ago when Mr. Cheeks video for “Lights, Camera, Action” came out. In the beginning of that video, when Mr. Cheeks enters the club, the “cheeks” lights go off and all the strippers know that he’s in the building. You see, in his video, Mr. Cheeks is akin to the president. When Cheeks shows up, the cheeks show up. Get it?

Me and my boys used to get a kick out of the video because the video hoes really sold the idea that Mr. Cheeks was indeed that important. Unrealistic? Of course, but in Mr. Cheeks video, he gets to be God. You have to love the opportunities that come to people who probably aren’t nearly as cool as they come off in videos.

Ne-Yo, bless his heart, is not an attractive man. Yet, in his videos, he gets to be the hearthrob; he is the man that women covet and for who’s back his woman has to watch. Usher he is not, but in his videos, he can be Denzel and his flock a gaggle of 30-50 year old black women.

I don’t care what anybody says, America is a great place.

Speaking of Ne-Yo and his video, maybe I’m missing something, but are bangs coming back for the womenses? In his video, the main video hoe has the WORST bangs in history. They’re just all flopping all over her face looking ever so busted. And I don’t mean the haircut that has women’s hair neatly lined up across the front. I mean real true to life bangs, like one curler was applied, then removed and the danglage was left to the imagination of the wind and fate. Additionally, I saw the new video for Letoya (and I think that’s Letoya Lockett of Destiny’s Child fame but I can’t tell if its really her) and she has her hair all banged up too. I am man so it possible that I have just missed this but I think the whole prominent bang period was not a good look for women.

Moving on.

This song, “When You’re Mad” is about how Ne-Yo can’t help but be carnally turned on whenever his girlfriend gets upset with him. He just wants to tear her up every time she gets that little wrinkle-nosed face going on because he has ticked her off. Throughout the video is a montage of women with various pissed off faces and demeanors that I suppose (it is a video remember) make Ne-Yo feel rather randy. I’ll admit, it’s a rather “cute” video. It makes me chuckle a time or two at the various reason his woman has chosen to be pissed at him.

However, I think the video seriously understates how “mad” a woman just may be and an appropalate course of action. And if you’ve seen the movie Trippin’ you will know that appropalate is indeed a real word.

Y’alls is some real dubiostic types.

What it seems to me is that his girl isn’t actually mad, she’s more just ticked off. Temporarily to boot. There is no mad going on here. His girl sees him taking pictures with “fans” and gets upset. Basically, his girl is jealous that he gives other women attention. Sucks for her…I mean doesn’t she realize she’s dating Ne-Yo. International superstar Ne-Yo?????

*crickets*

Like I said. It’s his video.

Thing is, there is no real just cause to be pissed so usually, a smile, a chuckle, and a “baby, why you trippin, you know I only love you” would suffice in most of these instances. Followed by a, “hey, you want me to keep getting you nice things? You do. Then I suggest you shut the fuck up.”

Then again. She isn’t mad.

Has anybody here ever dated somebody and either you or they got royally pissed??

*hands shoot up across the globe*

Was your first thought ever to really smile and then try to jump their bones? No? Me neither. When I get truly pissed, which has only happened a few times…I see red. It ain’t no lovely lush blues and yellows that inspire my loins.

Wow. I’ve said some pretty suspect shit in my day, but I think, “lush blues and yellows that inspire my loins” might just top the list.

Cry for me Argentina.

Now, I realize I’m being a stickler for details and accuracy here and I know its just a fun song intended to explain to women how them being upset with men makes men all turned on and shit. I’m just afraid some poor little kid is going to see this video and think that when his girl gets mad at him, it is totally okay to turn to an imaginary camera, chuckle twice, then look at her and go try to lay the ass-smackdown on her. He just might catch an eye-jammy.

This just brings up another point. There is a big difference between a woman being upset/slightly ticked off and her being mad or truly pissed. The former is usually a very temporary thing and can be resolved with a well timed, “baby, why you trippin’. Girl you know I-I-I-I love you. I will give you the sun the moon the stars the sky and the mountains…I’ll give you the worrrrrrrrrrrld. Baby, smile for me so I can see Heaven in your eyes.” You know, something along those lines. Basically, small little petty shit that most humans are bound to irrationally fall victim too from time to time. It happens to everybody.

The latter however, which would be the “mad or truly pissed” part, well thats a little different. If you have truly pissed off your woman, it’s gonna take more than a “girl i love you” to appease her. You must have done something like showed up with a box of condoms and one was missing. Despite the fact that you are truly just a juvenile male and used one to hang from your next door neighbors doorknob, you will be in trouble. Or maybe you didn’t show up when you said you were going to show up and your girl was stuck in the middle of Ohio all alone or some shit. Those things will not be resolved shortly.

You know, I don’t feel like discussing this anymore.

Bottom line, I’m concerned for the kids who will watch these videos and be influenced negatively since videos and music dictate our lives and I’m concerned about marriage in America.

Thank you.

P.S. Deborah Cox was never attractive and looks like she eats bricks.

Yesterday, all the major hip-hop online outlets had news of this recent report that said:

Listeners of rap are more likely to encounter problems with alcohol, drugs and violence than listeners of other genres, according to a new study by the Pacific Institute for Research and Evaluation’s (PIRE) Prevention Research Center.

More than 1,000 community college students, age 15-25, participated in the study, titled “Music, Substance Use and Aggression.” The students were questioned on their music listening habits, alcohol use, illicit drug use and aggressive behaviors, such as getting into fights and attacking or threatening others.

The results found that rap was consistently associated with alcohol use, potential alcohol use disorder, illicit drug use and aggressive behavior. - via Allhiphop.com

On the surface, that looks like another reason to say that rap music is what is afoul in the black community and further, potentially, every community as a whole.

Well, I pooh-pooh on this study.

[***Sidenote: I have no idea why, but I have a newfound affinity for saying "pooh-pooh" when in reference to things that make little to no logical sense to me. There's nothing like being a grown smurfin' black man who uses the word pooh-pooh around other grown people. I'm sexxy. ***]

I’m sure this type of study adds fuel to the fire of those individuals who blame artists for crimes that they had nothing to do with. A kid kills a cop? If he listens to rap, the connection will be made that he killed a cop because he listens to rap. And of course white people, religious anti-rap crusaders, and lots of black people who think that rap is what’s wrong with the black community can find solace in knowing that a seemingly faulty study FROM JUMP further vindicates the hatred that already exists for rap music. Even the researchers claim that the study really isn’t necessarily as indicative as the results maybe used.

But who needs exact science? We need it to feed our beliefs. To hell with legitimate statistics. Give me what I want to HEAR!!!

I even read on SOHH.com where the article was titled: New Study Finds That Rap Music Drives You To Drink And Use Drugs. So even worse, the wrong information is coming from the hip-hop community too. Because yes, there are those in the hip-hop community who love to take shots at the commercial nature and need the ammunition to rail against the 50 Cent’s and southern rappers of the world.

Well…I’m calling bullshit.

Oh my bad, I pooh-pooh on such findings.

From the very second I read the reports on the article, two things jumped right out at me:

1) The sample they were using; and

2) The methodology they were using.

Before I jump into why this all makes little to no sense to me, let me first say I have no problem with doing studies that end up admonishing rap in any way, as long as logical sense is used. I also don’t think that the results cannot be used in any way shape or form. I just think that the way they will be used is wrong and also contains a bit of a, well…no shit, vibe to it. But alas, such is my opinion. On to the analysis.

The sampe they used for this was 1,000 community college students aged 15-25. Now, I’m not rocket scientist or survey psychologist, but in today’s day and age, what is the music form that a good 80 percent of all 15-25 year olds are listeing too?

Anybody?

If you said rap, give yourself a pat on the back. Young people, black and white, during their early years tend to trend similarly in their musical tastes because we all get our musical tastes from where?

Anybody?

MTV.

Now, that’s not to say that MTV is the sole music source for many of us (your parents are also a big source), but in all reality, who doesn’t watch MTV at all? In their teenage years? Let’s ALSO throw into the equation that these are college students (community, but hell its still got an element of education). Raise your hand if you never drank or tried any illicit drug in college, on your own volition.

*spotting a few hands here and there*

It’s kcuffin’ college! Especially in the white world, from what I know, drinking is just one of those things you do. I went to a predominantly white high school. Them white kids would get drunk every weekend like it was nothing. I have no reason to assume that those who were drinking in high school would stop by the time they got to college, be it community or Harvard. In college, the black students were smoking up shit like it was going out of style. I know so many people who experimented with drugs it isn’t even funny. People who I’d never think smoked a few times just because they figured they should get that experience. Hell, I’ve considered smoking a cigar before because I was bored. And that was two weeks ago. I’ve never smoked a thing in my life.

Once again, it’s kcuffin’ college! And they are 15-25 years old and rap is the most popular music form right now. Even people who claim not to be rap fans listen to Nelly. And you know white people love Eminem and 50 Cent. How else would they do those huge numbers?

My second beef is the order of operations or methodology. So, based on what I read, I’m assuming they just gave these folks a questionnaire with questions about their drug use, alcohol assumption, aggression, etc. and it simultaneously questioned them about their music preferences from rap to rock and roll. That’s all well and good except when coupled with the age group and the fact that these are college students, you are going to get results like this. Hmm, I smoke pot. I listen to Nelly. Well, Nelly listeners are prone to smoking pot. It’s too simply done.

If a=b, and b=c, then a=c. With a being college student, b being illicit drug use (or what have you) and c being rap music.

That’s WAY to simple a connection to make. And then run with.

The experiment I’d like to see?

Track kids from an early age all with the same background (and I know that you won’t be able to predict if they come up the same way but hey, that could play a part in it as well) using their musical preferences as a guide. See what happens to the kids that don’t listen to rap and what happens to the kids that do listen to rap. If the kids that don’t listen to rap end up being perfect model citizens and the kids that do end up shanking mofo’s at age 15, well then you got me. But what happens if there is no difference? What happens if the Preacher’s Kid who doesn’t listen to rap drinks as much and smokes more than the lawyer’s son who listens to rap…exclusively?

Hell, on The Boondocks, Huey did an experiment to see if he would be dumber if he watched nothing but black shows for two weeks straight. Now THAT is some science I can get behind!

I realize that these studies are done because somebody probably wants to find out the connection. And at its most basic level, this is probably how some random high school student would do this experiment. But, it seems a tad reckless since most scientists know that most people can’t read nor do they give a shit about the “other findings” like:

Researchers emphasize that the survey’s results can’t determine whether listening to certain genres leads to alcohol or illicit drug use or aggressive behavior.

However, young people with tendencies to use alcohol or illicit drugs or to be aggressive may be drawn to particular music styles.

At that point, it becomes a chicken and the egg scenario. And scientists have been grappling with that one for eons.

Which made this finding even more funny to me:

The study, published in the May issue of the Journal of Studies on Alcohol, also found that young people who listen to reggae and techno use more alcohol and illicit drugs than listeners of other music, with the exception of rap.

So young partygoers and ravers might use drugs??? No way!

Nope. That’s not what people care about.

People care about this: Study shows rap music drives kids to drink and use drugs.

Score one for anti-rap proponents!

“People should be concerned about rap and Hip-Hop being used to market alcoholic beverages, given the alcohol, drug and aggression problems among listeners,” Meng-Jinn said. “That’s particularly true considering the popularity of rap and Hip-Hop among young people.”

You can add a “no shit, sherlock” to the end of that statement as we didn’t need this study to let us know that malt-liquor companies have been trying to use rappers for years to tap into the listeners. St. Ides, anyone?

Maybe, it’s just me, but if that was the point of this study, then the researchers have been asleep at the wheel for quite some time since none of that is news.

So, to the people who will use this as just further proof that rap is what’s wrong with the black community, I pooh-pooh on your assertions and question if you’ve really thought about this study for more than the 10 seconds it took to read the headline that you were happy to read.

Reading is fundamental, rap is the manifestation of a bunch of other problems in the black communiy and the world community as a whole, and niggas that don’t read will get you killed.

And that is some science for that ass.