Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises Presents…Panama’s Propositions

Welcome, everybody, to hiphop week here at Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises. Because I am the master of my domain (that’s kind of funny if you think about it since I do indeed own this here domain and could be called Master…blaster…that’s some hiphop for that ass), I have decided that this entire week will be devoted to albums that changed my life, the culture, the people involved, and just all things hippety hoppity in nature.

First up, I’d bequeath you to venture over to The Champ aka D.Young’s site to witness the full scale ethering that has occurred. ANOTHER dumb fuck has gone and stolen blog entries from yours truly and D.Young and Brutha Code and Leon, etc. Why these ignant niggas don’t catch a clue I have no idea. I was going to son his ass over here today as well but el pussolito took down his site since, of course, he read D.Young’s site looking for something else to jack overnight and Poof the Magic Gila Monster, it’s magically gone.

Since Jason C. will no doubt read this at some point, I would like to say that I have to at least give you some credit bucko. I give you props for creating misspellings in my shit and adding your own little spin to or changing up sentences. Congratulations, you went from riding the bench on the AAU All-Pussy team to being a starter.

You remember Starter jackets? Hang yourself with one.

Unfortunately you’re a bitch and your momma should be disappointed in you. In fact, she should hate you. But thanks for the compliment of jacking my shit.

*****

Are you a school teacher and can’t understand why your students misspell simple words such as “them” or “the” and would like to understand how to better relate and you refuse to accept Ebonics?

Do you want to know why when answering a yes or no question, your students inexplicably always yell out “YEAAAAH!” at the top of their lungs? Or constantly question you by saying “WHAAAAAT?!” over and over?

Have you been trying to figure out just what kind of animal a Young Jeezy is since you can’t find a regular Jeezy in your state-sanctioned biology textbooks but are afraid to ask your students because you really should know?

Well fret not. The Tickle Academy is here to provide a quick tutorial for all of the white, black, yellow, and brown people who are so out of touch with the current hiphop trends that they didn’t know that “crunk” was not the past participle of crank.

We at The Tickle Academy strive for the ultimate in the education experience. Our motto? We learn you bitches good!

[***DISCLAIMER: This tutorial will not be about your daddy's hip-hop and its for the totally oblivious. This is about becoming a part of today's hiphop scene. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life. ***]

Welcome to hip-hop.

Step 1: Go To Your Local Ghetto and buy a Mixtape, Preferably from the G-Unit or Diplomats (Ask the African selling them who is who and try not to look too oblivious or you will end up paying 20 dollars for a 2 dollar mixtape).

There is no better place to start your hiphop experience than the modern day crapfest that are mixtapes. Plus, with this you can kill two birds with one stone. You see, mixtapes are easily downloadable from the internet, but you need to understand the place the mixtapes come from. Though more times than not, if you’re students constantly misspell “them” and “the” you just might working in the ghetto anyway, in which case, head to the internet and find a mixtape with some completely idiotic looking black man on the front usually flanked by lots of things he cannot afford. Look specially for tapes by some fellow who goes by the name of 50 Cent or a fellow who will probably be wearing lots of fur and shorts by the name of Cam’ron.

Why mixtapes? Well, mixtapes provide you the latest in what’s going on in modern day hiphop complete with the totally asinine niggas yelling over everysong and lackluster lyrical performances. Since rap really isn’t what it used to be anyway, the mixtape is the best place to see the very thing that is wrong with rap, aside from the exploitation of the industry. You see, today…

…rappers suck ass.

But alas, mixtapes provide lessons in slanguage, drug acumen, the federal penal code, and strip club etiquette. It is here that you will find out why your kids seem to be so good at moving the decimal in math, i.e. moving from kilo grams to milli grams, and going from ounces to pounds, but totally suck at English since they can’t seem to quite grasp that the concept that the proper way to say (and write) “hello” is not “What it do? What tha bizness is?”

Step 2: Venture to MTVJams.

It is very important to understand why the little girls at your school dress like hookers. Or why the young me dress like they’re parents don’t love them. Unfortunately, rappers are role models. Therefore it is important to watch some of rappers are doing since these will inevitably shape the trends your children see.

On the offchance that you see Shawnna’s video for “Gettin’ Some” and you have no clue what the hell she is “getting”…it is head. Head as in female fellatio. As in ticklin’ the clitlin’. Feel free to send any and all of your children to the principal’s office if they start singin’ that song in class. It is obscene.

Step 3: After you listen to the mixtapes and watch the videos, you will need a translator.

This may be the most important step. Reason being, just because you hear them doesn’t mean you understand one iota of what the helly they are saying. For instance, it is wholly possible that you have heard a few of your students telling the other students to “go dumb” or “go stupid” and you probably thought they were being unnecessarily rude. In fact, they were encouraging the other students to exercise as “going dumb” is a dance “craze” in the Bay area where folks basically just lose it and go gyrationistic and get “hyphy” which also means to “go dumb”.

But how would you know that?

Get a translator. Just pay some kid to shut up and explain the shit to you. Try not to sleep with said student if you’re a woman or you might end up on TV and then jail with a bunch of women who speak slang and won’t really be concerned if you don’t understand it.

Step 4: Go buy a hiphop magazine, preferably a XXL or a Vibe.

Now I particularly hate both of those magazines but they are pretty elementary so reading them should be a breeze. Other magazines are way better but they would require you to have some knowledge of something other than the ability to read. XXL or Vibe…do not. So, buy these magazines and skip about 80 pages to get past the ads that run rampant and read about your students favorite rappers du jour since the same rappers grace the covers of these magazines ad nauseum. Read about all of the drugs they sold and how they were just that nice with the microphone that they couldn’t not rap and get their boys out the hood. Also understand this, rappers have some strange names. Busta Rhymes is a person, not an action. I mean, it is an action, but in most cases its a person. And yes, even in rap, a man named Puffy can be somebody or a femininely named fellow named Suge Knight can be the most feared man in the industry. From jail.

Also recognize that a lot of these people are solely popular in the black world as Ted Turner probably has no idea who Suge Knight is.

He also doesn’t care.

And finally…

Step 5: Watch BET for no longer than 15 minutes at a time as the content will be offensive and you may get dumber.

This is the ultimate step for you. After having scoured mixtapes, videos, and magazines, its time to see if you can understand what goes on at the one place where all of that useless knowledge is, well, useful…BET. If you can watch BET, especially 106&Park and understand the hosts who say “that’s what’s up” entirely WAY too many times and you know what they mean; or you can watch Lil Kim’s “Going To Jail” special (why ANYBODY would want to chronicle somebody’s quest for jail is beyond me) and you undestand what the pint-sized violationist vixen is saying; or further, you understand, empathize, and decide that the whole Stop Snitchin’ campaign is totally and unavoidably necessary….well…

…then you have arrived.

You are now ready to take your knowledge into the classroom and the streets and show the little bastards who think they can run over you since you are so detached that you are down with Duke Da God. That you love Cam’ron and his intricate wordplay.

That Young Jeezy does indeed have a movement, not an album and every true nigga needs some Thug Motivation.

Welcome to the wonderful world of hip-hop 2006.

It is now and will be forever more that:

“Life ain’t nothing but bitches and money…”

Thank you for visiting and learning with The Tickle Academy.

We’ve all been there. You’re out, and you see somebody who catches your eye for whatever reason. Maybe its their eyes. Or maybe it’s their hair. Or maybe they just have that “thing” that Lauryn Hill was talking about that gets folks so messed up in the game.

Whatever it is, it renders you helpless to your impulses and forces you to just go over and speak. Everything is going well. Your “hello” was well received and a contrived albeit purposeful conversation was begun.

And then…

…that muhfucka says the utmost stupidest shit you’ve ever heard in your life. And presto changeo, stock drops. You’re selling the shit faster than your Enron. Yes, in just a few short minutes, it is possible to meet somebody who goes from being the cat’s meow to Alpo.

Hell, it’s happening right now in cities across America.

And yes, it can happen to you. Therefore, I figured the best way to counter that problem is to just offer a few situations that can render you unattractive to the opposite sex in 10 minutes or less. But before we do that, there is something that must be understood.

Panamalogy: Attractiveness is very similar to your college GPA. You may be fine, but if you fuck it up by saying/doing something stupid, your stock drops quick as hell and is damn near impossible to bring back up to where you dropped from. Just like with your GPA. How well you do in your first semester will essentially set the bar for how high you can go. If you don’t get a 4.0 in the first semester, you’ll never have a 4.0. If you bomb your first semester, you will be working like Kunte in Virginia trying to pull it up, and it will likely never get as high as you’d like it. Fine only counts if you never speak to the person, because that shit becomes all relative once they open their mouths and have every ability to fuck it up. And that’s a fact, Jack.

How To Become Unattractvie in 10 Minutes or Less: Fucking Up Your Future Forensically

1. Come off like you are the pure and unadulterated shit.

You ever meet somebody and they made it seem like you were lucky to even get the opportunity to do so? Oh yeah, tumble attractiveness, tumble. I know a woman who assumes that anytime a man speaks to her, he is trying to run game. Anytime. What I find funny about it is that she’s not attractive…in the first place. Hence, she will blow off nearly any man who even offers her so much as a compliment and assume that he is merely running more game than a crackhead from Hempstead.

Word to the wise, self-esteem is really important. What’s also important is realizing that if you have an 8 body and a 5 face, you are a 6.

And 6′s don’t come home to momma.

2. Have breath that is kicking like the Pink Power Ranger

Yes, halitosis is a real thing. I’m not even sure there needs to be an explanation here. Let’s just say, if nobody wants to talk to you and you look like Halle Berry, either you have a sign on your forehad that says “SARS lives here” or you’re breath is beyond reproach.

3. Bring up the fact that you live with your momma…in the first 2 minutes.

You know, for some reason, women attach a lot to your living situation. And that shit can make you look really Bobcat in a nanosecond. For one, I don’t even know how it comes up. There is no reason to mention it really. It’s something that should come up later. But yep, I guaran-damn-tee that if as a man, you bring this up somehow, you will become the male version of Solange. Not quite busted, but when stacked up against the former Beyonce that you could have been…well, she’ll pass.

By the way, did anybody catch the Tribe Called Quest reference a few paragraphs back? Go ahead, its okay, go try to find it.

4. Be a stank ass heifer/nigga

As opposed to coming off as the unadulterated shit, this is when you begin talking and you realize that her attitudes seem to be more along the lines of golddiggin’ ass hoes. For instance, say you walk over to her, and you see she’s reading the Randall Robinson book The Debt: What America Owes To Blacks and you use that to segue into a convo with her. And she tells you that, she’s reading it but for real, black people just need to get over it and quit being ghetto and that she wouldn’t want to be in undevelopoed ass Africa chucking spears so we should be thankful we live in America (5. Be ignant/ignorant/idignant/a Ying-Yang Twin

I use the word nigga a lot. A lot lot. But you wouldn’t know that from jump. Hell, unless I know you, I rarely use it on IM without asking you if its okay first. And cursing, I won’t curse unless I know you are 100 percent okay with it.

STOP.

Did anybody else see All Of Us last night where they tried to broach the topic of the using the N-word. I mean, nigga. They get an A for effort. But I just don’t know if UPN is equipped to handle such a difficult topic. I ended up cringing more and more as I watched it. Thank God for Uncle Dirk. The comic relief broke up the uberfuckery of a job that they attempted to do, from the drummed up emotion to the touching moments at the end. It just exposed the bad acting jobs they are capable of. Like I said, A for effort.

Back to the lecture at hand. So say you approach the you are feeling and in the first 2 or 3 minutes, they use the word nigga, or curse and no, hell or damn, but they use the word fuck. You just never know how folks feel about that kind of stuff. It’s always best to ease into that over time, you don’t just come out the gate with it when trying to make some sort of impression. You’re first words shouldn’t be, “yeah, a nigga spotted yo’ fine ass from across the room. I was finna come whisper in your ear, wait til you see my dick.”

Boris Kodjoe to Barney Fife in 3 minutes flat.

Not. A. Good. Look.

6. Just be damn dumb.

I don’t know about you, but I HATE dumb broads. With the passion of Mel Gibson. I know some folks who like dumb chicks cuz they are easy but that is an ultimate turnoff. If I see a fine woman who gets so excited because she just discovered that there are pens that if you push the button, the ball point comes out…well, she’s gettin’ chucked like Taylor. She will become very unattractive quickly to me. Dumb girls cannot be fine. It is mentally impossible for me to find dumb women attractive. I would assume that would be the same for men. Of course with the dating pool so shallow nowadays, I assume some women just take what they can get.

7. The Standards

What are the standards? You know, things like outwardly picking your nose, farting, or any of the other bodily functions one should reserve for private time. I know a chick who will burp, and then tell you about it. Needless to say, not very attractive.

8. Being a clutz or a klutz, depending on which way is the correct way to spell that

You know, nothing is worse than essentially being the embodiment of this statement: Girl, he’s fine, but…

Or. Son, she’s fine but…

Anytime you have a but attached, you just aren’t ranking high enough. And just being a total clutz or klutz from jump will do it unfortunately. If you spill my drink on me I’m going to not only wonder how in the hell you made that happen seeing as it was my drink, but i’m gonna be pissed. It’s hard to see attractiveness when pissedness comes into play.

Unless you’re just that fine where it doesn’t matter. Which is possible. Trust me.

9. Wear more makeup than Homey Da Clown.

Maybe this is just a personal thing. I don’t mind makeup. But I do mind additional faces created by too much makeup. And maybe I couldn’t tell that from afar. Upon closer inspection, you can become very unattractive if I’m not sure if your face really belongs to you or not. Nothing is scarier than possibly waking up next to a Gremlin. I’m probably not most men, but I’d just pass on that shit.

10. Have the ugliest walk known to man.

This an entire other post, but an ugly walk, will totally fuck up your attractiveness. If you walk like you never quite learned how to do it, well, you’re gonna be busted. Like I said, that’s another post.

These are but a few ways to become unattractive in 10 minutes or less. Don’t let it be you.

Unless of course you’re already busted in which case, it doesn’t matter and you can proceed as normal.

Over the past few months, I’ve posted on a plethora of things. Yet in all that time, I’ve managed to stray away from the most important thing I can think of in life…

…me…

…and my sexxy.

Yes you out there in the crowd?

Panama, how do you do it? How do you maintain your sexy?

Excuse me, it’s sexXy…two X’s.

How could you hear that I only used one X??

I’m sexxy like that.

In all my benevolence, I’ve decided to let you, the masses, in on a secret. As was offered in the comment section, I will offer up a step-by-step booklet (for you to get) on how to get your sexxy on. And no, this ain’t no Puffy-level Proactiv sexxy here…this is that real shit the shit to make you feel shit have you in the club lookin’ in the mirror while other folks love shit.

Yes, it’s the real…sexxy.

(I will also attempt to break the world’s record for the number of times the word sexxy can be used in a single entry.)

Sexxy sexxy sexxy sexxy sexxy sexxy.

I can do that…I’m sexxy.

I wasn’t always so sexxy. No. Once upon a time, I was a regular old traffic stopping stunner. But something was missing. Then one day, it happened. I realized that hey, Panama, you are a sexxy bitch. Umm…no brokeback. My friends from college can attest to the fact that I would indeed, rebut any stupid thing I said or did with the term, “I’m sexxy.” As if that automatically made whatever I said or did worthy of note, documentation, and Smithsonian review. They were sexxy times bitches…sexxy times. And they haven’t changed.

My name is Panama D. Jackson, and I am sexxy.

And you can be too. So let’s get started, shall we?

Yes, let’s.

Panama Jackson Presents…Obtaining Your Second “X”: The Killa’s 10 Commandments to Gettin’ Your SexXy

Yaymen.

“I’m so fly with it, look how I did it…” – Kanye West, “Late”, Late Registration

“the fuck you expect, I’ve got a history…” – Kanye West, “They Say”, from Common’s Be

I absofuckin’lutely love that line. And you will learn to love those lines as well. Some see those lines as arrogance, to me, I see it as truth (for Kanye and to a slightly lesser extent, yours truly). Which leads us right into our first Commandment.

1st Commandment: Thou shalt be convincing. And not be a dickhead whilst doing it.

The key to being sexxy is getting other people to buy into the bullshit you are espousing without belittling anybody in the process. People don’t like belittlers and women don’t like littlers. My weapon of choice is comedy.

Gem For Life: You can get away with damn near ANYTHING if you make people laugh. It also helps if you don’t look like a pterodactyl.

I am an asshole. I run with it. You see, I’m not afraid to let the asshole within out. You should do this as well. As long as you don’t piss people off in the process (read: comedy) you can get a pass on many a thing because people will hopefully know that deep down inside you aren’t NEARLY as bad as you come across or realize that some of it is show. Basically, don’t try to hurt people’s feelings and make them feel like you believe you are better than them. No, you are just more sexxy. There is a difference.

Simultaneously…

2nd Commandment: Thou shalt do what the fuck thou wantsteth to do.

You see, it is damn near IMPOSSIBLE to be sexxy if you are constantly second guessing yourself or worrying about what other muhfuckas are going to think after you do something. I mean, if you aren’t bringing down a government, fuck it…make it happen, cap’n. I say a lot of stupid shit. A lot. This blog is the tip of the iceberg. If you had to deal with what my friends had to deal with on a daily basis…well, let’s just say, I’ve got great friends. Thing is, I’m comfortable enough with my sexxy to keep it moving and offering up the random tidbits of what-the-fuckedness.

For instance. Or as the French would say, for instance. You see, that in and of itself was stupid as uptight downstrokes in the rain. 3rd Commandment: Don’t be afraid to be wrong.

You know why? If you are truly sexxy, as I am, you have a built in response to everything.

Panama, son, what is 2+2?

Shiiiiiit, 847!

Dude, it’s 4.

I’m sexxy.

End game. There is no retort because it requires none. You got the answer wrong, and are okay with it. You know why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because you are sexxy. That’s why.

4th Commandment: Be wrong and randomly wrong often.

You see, having that built in line, makes life all the more entertaining. You can just blatantly do your own thing at all times and spin the answers the way you see fit. If you think that 2+2 should be 5, then dammit, make sure everybody knows that. And in the event that people refuse to accept it, make sure to remind them just how sexxy you truly are and that your sexxiness trumps all else. Things that have rhyme and reason should no longer have rhyme and reason. In fact, you recreate the status quo. And do you know why?

Because you’re sexxy. Bitches.

Number 5 should have been number 1 to me…

5th Commandment: Thou shouldn’t confuse sexxy with just regular sexy.

People tend to think that when I say sexxy, I mean that I am sexy. No, when I say sexxy, I mean sexxy. Understand?

You see how I explained that without explaining shit?

6th Commandment: If people don’t get you…fuck ‘em up against the wall. Oh wait…sorry. Thou shalt if people don’t get you…fuck ‘em up against the wall.

Of course, this rebuts that whole 1st Commandment, don’t be a dickhead thing. But did you see I, Robot? Do you remember the ghosts in the machine? Me neither, however, you can’t go around trying to make people feel better about themselves by explaining yourself all the time. Do you and someobdy will get you some of the time. Nobody will never not get you all of the time…after the hurricane. Understand that the last sentence made total sense to me in my mind. Also understand that I have no idea why it did. You see, half the time, understanding your own train of thought is a full time job.

And who wants one of those.

I understand that this commandment seems slightly arrogant. And I quote:

“the fuck you expect, I’ve got a history…”

Plus, I’m sexxy. Bitches.

Are you starting to catch on yet?

7th Commandment: Thou shalt be open-minded.

Hmm, I bet you didn’t see that one coming did you. I also bet you can’t do it like this, which is a song I absofuckin’ lutely HATE. In fact, I hate D4L with the passion of the Honda Accord. (See, once again, its okay to be random and make no sense). It is important to be openminded in life period and be willing to at least LISTEN to other people’s opinions. Hell you might learn something. For instance, if I tell you that the Arctic Monkey’s album WHATEVER PEOPLE SAY I AM, THAT’s WHAT I’M NOT, is that hot shit, you shouldn’t automatically turn your nose up and say, what the fuck is that? Is that some white shit? Yes it is…and it’s great. You should at least be willing to give it a shot. That way, people won’t think that you believe you are merely sexy with one x, but sexxy with two x’s.

Come to think of it though, the mere fact that I’m telling you means that it is gospel.

What was I saying again? Oh yes, being openminded. With great sexxiness comes great responsibility. Which means that people will come to you in hopes of obtaining a mere morsel of your sexxiness. It is important to offer precise, well-thought out, unassholish advice whenever possible. However, if an asshole comes at you sideways, it is also okay to be a total asshole to them. Once again, please…fuck ‘em up against a wall.

8th Commandment: Thou shalt be cool.

You know, this one might be hard for many a boho out there. Cool isn’t something you can buy somewhere. You either got it or you don’t got it. However, I also believe that most folks have some semblance of cool, they just haven’t been able to properly harness it. I blame slavery. And yes, that goes for white people too. Non-sequiter? You betcha bottom dollar.

The majority of the aforementioned, previously stated, I done already told you, scroll up bitches, commandments are part-and-parcel to being cool. You can’t get away with any of that other shit if you aren’t a cool person by nature. In essence, somebody aside from your mother has to like you. It helps if you don’t include family period. You must find someway to not be a spazz or someway to be comfortable enough with yourself for somebody out there to say, “Hey, you know that Panama is one cool fellow.” Feel free to substitue your name for Panama in there, unless you are a one eyed one armed flying purple people eater. In which case, substitute the name Bob in there.

Also realizing that falling asleep at a table full of drunk bloggers does not remove an X from your sexxy. It merely illuminates another way for everybody else to improve on their sexxy.

Yes niggas, it is important to get sleep.

9th Commandment: Thou shalt realize that you don’t have to look sexxy to be sexxy, you have to feel sexxy.

Just let your soul glow, just let it shine thru. You know why? It’s cuz that’s all that matters.

Actually, that’s a lie. Looking like Fred Flinstone’s big toe will probably make your ascension to sexxy more difficult than you think.

However…eat well.

And finally…

10th Commandment: Thou shalt be like Panama Jackson in every conceivable way.

I’m not just sexxy, I’m the definition of it.

They call me Panama…Panama Jackson.

You now have all the knowledge you need to go forth into the world and attempt to be obtain your second “X”. Go forth with said knowledge and change the world.

And the chuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch said…yay-men.

Good night and good luck.

(You must also feel comfortable jacking pop culture for catch-phrases, slanguage, and Paris Hilton.)

Three times in three days…bitches.

I’m feeling inspired right now. Not sure how long this will last or if this is the leadup to me ultimately saying fuck the world, don’t ask me for shit…because I’ll be late for that. Ishkabibbly doody wop.

The sad part of that entire last sentence is that if I was E-40, that would have been a clear, coherent, cogent, coagulated thought. And probably would have translated to “love is in need of love today.”

Or something.

Now that we’ve got the inane introduction out of the way, let us commence.

A thought came to me yesterday while I was returning from Quizno’s after purchasing a Triple Q combo meal that eye poppingly came out to $9.88. The thought was that niggas are dumb as hell with their criminal game at times.

Non-sequitor? Definitely.

Over the past few days, I’ve been in discussions with various friends of mine at various times about sundry criminal lacktastic skills that many people have. And quite frankly, it’s disturbing. The mere fact that people run their mouths AFTER committing crimes is dumb in and of itself, but its like people want to get caught most of the time anyway. With a little more thought, you too can become a better criminal. Let us delve into how.

Panama Jackson Presents Crime Without Punishment…How To Not Get Caught Up, Dumbass

I’m going to pick a few scenarios to discuss. Some you may have heard before, others you may have never considered, others may cause you to say that Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear. You’ve been learndeded.

IAN Game (Ignore A Nigga) Game

This is one of those areas that you’d think would be simple, but for some reason, people are idiots. For instance, which is French for, for instance….say you have some chick/unchick that you are done dealing with. But they call you incessantly. Everybody’s phone has an ignore function. Right? If you hit “ignore” after the phone rings twice, they’ll know you’re ignoring the call. You either have to be quick on the trigger, or just let it ring. Kind of like letting it snow, only not the same at all. Nothing new here.

BUT…

…the dumb nigga syndrome kicks in when you KNOW that the person recognizes it’s you calling so they do what any crazy bitch (this is not gender specific here) would do. What’s that class??

*67 your ass. For those who live in uncivilized parts of the country (world), *67 blocks the outgoing number causing it to show up as either “private caller” or “unknown” on the receiver’s caller ID.

And what do you do?

Answer the gotdamn phone. Who does that? You know you’re ex is nuts…its the reason for their ex status. You know they will call you with a blocked number because they’ve done it before. Yet you answer…EVERYTIME. RIGHT after they just tried to call you and got ignored. To properly ignore a nigga, you must do exactly that, IGNORE A NIGGA.

Dumb ass.

Robbery

Humans are dumb. We want credit for everything. Which is why people will talk about the crimes they have committed. Dumb. There are 2 Simple Rules for Robbing A White Teenager or A Home (banks require more people).

1. Do it by yourself.

2. Shut the fuck up about it.

Somehow, nobody EVER follows those two rules. Niggas always want to commit crimes with their criminal friends. This is a bad idea. Do you know why it’s a bad idea? Because you can’t really trust criminals. Unless they are wealthy criminals who are doing it for sport…and usually white and run Fortune 500 companies or countries on their off weekends. Other than that, niggas will sing like Whitney if cornered and their freedom is at stake. We’d all like to believe there is honor amongst thieves…me…me no believey. There is a reason economists, and more specifically Game Theorists start off every discussion with the “Prisoner’s Dilemma”. This is the notion that if you have catch two criminals, separate them, there are 4 logical outcomes. Both will be silent, both will squeal, or one will tell and the other won’t, and vice versa. Likelihood that nobody will talk…very very low.

You’re already a criminal, why trust them? Save yourself right? You see, if you do your dirt by your lonely, you only have yourself to concern yourself with…as long as you also shut the fuck up.

Why this eludes so many people is beyond me.

Bank Robbery

Why ANYBODY would attempt this in today’s day and age of ridiculous surveillance and dye-packed money balls, etc. is beyond me.

If you must, I have no clue how to do this properly.

Little Known Panama Fact: When I was in 9th grade, a bunch of my homeboy’s were aspiring rappers, criminals, etc. Well these dummies ACTUALLY approached me (since I was the “smart” one) about drawing up plans for them to rob a local bank. I was informed that two of them said they wouldn’t go thru with it unless I was the architect. Must have been what Christopher Williams felt like in New Jack City. They never did rob that bank. About three years ago, one of these fellows DID however bungle a gas station robbery and is currently serving jail time.

Drug Dealing

I plead the 5th on this one. However, I do have some advice for aspiring drug dealers out there. If, and that’s a big if, you do manage to make some actual money doing this…don’t be so gotdamned visible. Real killers move in silence nigga. Buying cars galore while you live in the hood is not a good look. At all. Who WOULDN’T notice that? Police included. Of course, you will have to have a crew, which means that chances of having a squealer in your camp increases. Basically, you will go to jail or die eventually…but while you’re alive, the least you can do is find lucrative ways to…

Launder Money

Open a barber shop, or some business where money exchanges hands quickly and is largely cash based. When I saw Rush Hour 2 for the first time, I thought the billionaire who laundered his money through a casino was brilliant. I was actually proud of him for that.

You probably don’t have the money to do that. Landscaping is a good venture as well. Who doesn’t need their lawns manicured? The bottom line here is that you must find some way to get that money out of your hands into some venture where the money can be accounted for…quickly. As a smart criminal, this would be done. OR…move the money into offshore accounts…quickly.

And not by two Benzes. That is not money laundering. That is wearing the money. And you just might end up strip searched.

Prostitution

Just don’t do it.

There is never a good way to become a ho.

I think that is all for today. I charge you aspiring criminals, no matter how large or small the crime, to be smarter at your criminal endeavors…it is imperative.

Thank you and goodnight.

[***Administrative Note: Being as today is the last day of Black History Month, I thought I'd pass on a link I received from a friend of mine in North Carolina that includes many pictures from the Civil Rights Movement, specifically the goings ons in both Birmingham and Montgomery, both hotbeds of civil rights activity. It really is an intersting special report from the Birmingham News, so get thee to a nunnery, and check out Black history as it was happeneing. ***]

I rarely listen to the radio anymore. I just usually watch MTV Jams to determine what the hot songs are right now since the hot songs usually have a video which is why I would be watching MTV Jams since they show videos and since I’m paying extra money a month for the digital package JUST so I can have MTV Jams and vh1 Soul (which both show videos, by the way) the least they can do is provide me the information on what the popular songs of the moment are.

So yeah…I don’t listen to the radio much. On the occasions when I do, sometimes I’m treated to a song or two that I actually like. Most times, I hear songs that I hate to admit I like or songs that I’d never pay my own money to own. Rarely do I hear a song that has any semblance of social relevance or is relatable to the common man. It’s usually bitches and money. Excuse me…that was not the right thing to say.

Big booty bitches and money.

And cars.

But then yesterday happened. As I drove home from work, I decided to listen to the radio. Anybody who lives in the Washington, DC, area knows that between the two radio stations here, WKYS (93.9) and WPGC (95.5), you will hear the exact same songs on either station…on repeat…all day long. Which is why I don’t listen to the radio much and just usually watch videos on MTV Jams to figure out which songs would be on the radio since those would be the popular songs…well…we already covered that.

Upon listening to the radio, WKYS to be exact, I heard a song of social relevance. I heard a song of truth and honesty. I sat in traffic, attempting to slow down to 40 MPH (to avoide the ticket-cameras that will take a picture of your ass for doing 46 in a 45 MPH zone…actually its more like your bumper and license plate but since Patra had the song “Pull Up To My Bumper” I assume it was more about ass than cars which is why using the word “ass” a few lines back is somewhat of a pun, not one of those “intended” puns, but a pun nonetheless) in the 3rd Street Tunnel as I made my way to New York Avenue.

What I heard in this song was a man’s realization. It was a man’s realization and admittance (and if that’s not a word, try admittation on for size) that he was human. It was a song that spoke of a problem, but wasn’t asking for help. It was the nature of man. Man doesn’t usually want help for his addictions or problems, man wants to wallow in them and receive the momentous short-lived euphoria we gain from the moments our addictions bring. We don’t want to lose the freedom our addictions bring to our locked-down minds and bodies.

This song was common to all mankind.

This song has social relevance.

This song was T-Pain’s, “I’m In Luv (Wit A Stripper)”.

No go ahead and laugh and say something to the effect of, “this nigga is trippin’.”

[***Sidenote: Yesterday I was perusing some old posts of mine when I came across a new comment on a post from last January about what happened to me at a club in Huntsville, Alabama. In this comment, the person told me that before I go talking about racism of any kind, I need to re-examine my use of the word "nigga" on my site. And though I don' t understand how the two correlate given that I am a black man and refer to myself as the dreaded n-word, which is clearly an argument for another day and can go on for many many days, it could very well be a valid point. However, I am the master of my soul, the funder of my domain, and illustrious words of the Youngbloodz, we here at Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises, "don't give a fuck" what you think. If I use the word nigga, it doesn't mean that racism, overt or covert, exists any less...AND...I'm Panama the Most Muhfuckin'. Apparently, they didn't get the memo. So, in case you missed what was in between the lines up there, and you are reading this right now....this goes out to you and you and you, let me clear my throat, and enunciate it properly...fuck you. Smile! ***]

The reason this song speaks volumes about mankind’s inner battle is because this is a real phenomenon that isn’t spoken about much in pop culture. Sure, there are many an ode to the ass bounceologists, but mostly in the exploitative manner. When was the last time you heard a song about a man exhibiting his desires over the strippers in a way that neither degraded or relegated the women to mere trinkets for a man to ogle over??

Not that this song doesn’t do those things, but I’m just saying, when was the last time you heard a song like that?

However, T-Pain does admit the fact that one of the Pole Proprietors has gained a spot in his heart. And let me tell you, he isn’t the only man to have this happen. I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes to a friend of mine.

A long time ago, for one of our boys 19th (or 20th) birthday, somebody had the bright idea to take him to a strip club. Well, we were in Atlanta so that suggestion was not only a great idea, but everybody was on board. Strapped with a cadre of 1 dollar bills (actually we were pretty broke so we didn’t have so many), we ventured to a strip club. After being called out by the club management for sitting right up on the stage but not tipping well, we commenced to put our money into the stripper’s bank account. Then we got a lap dance for my boy.

I watched an entire relationship happen before my very eyes.

During the course of this lapdance, my boy had a look of true passion on his face. There seemed to be actual feelings occuring. In that 10 minute lap dance, he told her that he loved her.

You see, my boy fell in love with a stripper.

T-Pain’s song gives an anthem and a face to men everywhere who have fallen in love with strippers. Sure, you can’t touch them in some states and in DC they don’t even take off their bottoms…but that doesn’t change the fact that some men do fall in love with strippers. They are the fantasy we desire. They provide the elusive pleasure principle that many a man doesn’t receive from the cascades of women he may be involved with…unless he is dating a stripper.

Which usually doesn’t exactly conjure up thoughts of jealousy. Somewhere along the line, the buck stops at dating a stripper. Jury’s out on how fucked up this is or not.

But you see, that’s why this song brings so much to the table. He wants to bring this woman to his home to do that night thing, but he can’t wife her up. She’s a stripper for goodness’ sake. The moral dilemma of the Strip Club Connoisseur. The Thong Theorem. The ultimate question mark.

He’s in love, but what can he do with that love?

Nobody knows.

He’s in love with a stripper, as many a man is, but she’s a stripper and her job is to make other men feel important. There is agony, and pain. T-Pain to be exact.

She’s poppin’ and rollin’…she’s coming down from the ceiling.

Right into the hearts of man.

Finally, a song about the common man’s plight for love in all the wrong places.

Finally, a song about life.