Do you know what’s worse than being sick?

Being sick the day after Labor Day, or any major holiday that falls on a Monday. For one, nobody actually believes you when you call out sick from work. Hell, I don’t believe people when they call out sick on Mondays.

Even when I do it I don’t believe myself.

But alas, that was me. Sick as a dog. And I was even sick over the holiday and in a city where walking through the rains that Ernesto wrought was required.

Viva la storm season!

Two things I learned from being sick:

1) A grown ass man should never have to rub Vicks Vapor Rub all over his own chest. That is a woman’s job. I stand by that; and

2) Being sick alone blows ass. No, I’m not advocating for people to pass on their meningitis to their friends. I’m just saying that when you’re sick it’s always good to have company or at least somebody to tell you that you’re not going to die over a game of Parcheesi, or perhaps Trouble!

I like Trouble!

So I did what any well intentioned sick ass individual would normally do…went to sleep as early as possible and shunned the world.

I also realized I’m not much of a mama’s boy since I didn’t call either of my mothers and I know full damn well how to make my own Hot Toddies. Then again, I like to drink and a Hot Toddy is a mixed drink…just one that folks use to clear congestion and the like when folks are sick.

How many folks out here have no idea what in the Hell a Hot Toddy is and why I’d be drinking one when I’m sick? Maybe it’s just a Southern thing. Me no know.

[***SIDENOTE: Omarion's song "Entourage" is a really good damn song. And the video is hot too just for his dancing. I know folks often hate cuz he was part of B2K...and well, yes that's a very good reason. However, just like with his last album, the songs I've heard sound like his album is going to be good. Oooooooooo!!! Don't be hatin...! I also like Ray J. Just thought I'd kill any credibility I might have upfront this time instead of folks finding out later and then wanting to slap me with a Honeybaked Ham and a side of extension cord. ***]

[***SIDENOTE 2: Have you ever heard of this singer named, Choklate? I had vaguely heard of her until yesterday when I was perusing HoneySoul's site and there was an interview up with her. I figured what the hell, I'll listen to it. I listened to about half then went to iTunes and bought her self-titled, CD. It's really good people. You should check her out, not because she's good, but because I'm telling you she's good. Quality. Goodshit. You'll like it is I suppose the main bullet point I'm trying to get across...word to Family Guy! Check out her MySpace page: Listen2Chok ***]

As you can see already, this post has very little purpose thus far. However, I do want to share a little something. I was driving back from NY on Monday with two of my boys. One of my boys, Doc (he used to be The Great…but now he’s a Doctor of the Ph.D. variety), got to talking to me and my other boy about our various side hustles. In case you didn’t know, I have about 5 or 6 different side hustles. Well, Doc, got to discussing about people being on their grind the way they should to make things happen. For instance, he mentioned how much he liked We The Voices, the currently stalled like shit e-zine I founded well over a year (or two) ago with my homegirl out in LA.

You know, it had a good run initially. It wasn’t perfect but it was fun. Thing is, I didn’t even realize how many folks were actually reading and shit. Yeah, I looked at the stats but what really got me was the inordinate amount of emails I received from folks telling me that we needed to hurry up and bring it back because I was disappointing the fanbase. Like, no shit, I was seriously taken aback. I knew we had a good product (or at least I thought it was) but I didn’t realize that folks actually liked it enough to be mad at me personally when it went under.

That made me smile.

Nothing lets you see that you’re successful like pissing people off. Word to 50 Cent.

And for good measure…why are there dandelions in the parking garage?

So Doc got to talking and everytime he does that, he gets me re-motivated all over again about getting on my hustle. Maybe it’s the fact that I know he believes in me and the shit that I’m doing. Or maybe its the actual validation that what I was doing was actually something that folks I know were checking out…

Whatever, he has managed to light a fire under my ass and make me realize how unfocused I’ve been. I’m working on quite a few different things right now with different people and you know, I’m probably holding them all up in some way shape or form. True we have no deadlines for anything, but still…I can’t operate like that.

I might not even be alive tomorrow.

I’ve always treated my actualy real job as my hobby while I was out trying to make things happen with everything else. And I’ve slacked on that. In the words of the Doc, I suppose if I need to be up until 2am everyday doing what needs to get done to get where I want to go…then so be it.

I’ve been in my own way on a lot of this shit. Whether it be lack of focus or lack of motivation or worrying about something not coming out right. And that’s not even in my personality. I’m usually the kind of cat who does shit because I know I can…then lets other folks catch up and figure it out.

Of course, I’m random as hell so most folks are left scratching their chin but still. No point in trying to figure shit out. Might as well be like Nike and just do it.

So…to Doc, thanks. Like I told you in the car, I might need you to keep it up. I spend so much time trying to motivate other people that at times I forget that I need my own motivators.

To The Champ…it’s coming. I was sick and it fucked me up something proper, but I’m going to get it together. My apologies for slacking like shit, pimpin’. Truly.

To my boy Harold Clemens…we gonna get some of this shit we’re ALWAYS talking about together…too much talent and besides, we need to get you out of Boston.

Liz…me and you pimpin’. We got this. Somebody is going to make millions, it might as well be us.

And to builtfromwax…I’m really going to get on it. Can’t make money unless we got something to put out, now can we? In the famous words of one of my hometowns most famous artists…I be on it…

And to my folks who are very supportive and come out to events I’m apart of or read here daily, or whenever I post, I appreciate it. I really do…I feel like I can be a lot bigger than what I’m doing here but I can’t stop blogging because it caused me to realize these things. Circle of life, bitches.

But thanks for sleepwalking with the kid.

We The Voices. Coming soon. For real. To those folks who are apart…posse up.

Dandelions In The Parking Garage.

And umm…people in DC are rude as fuck. I just wanted to emphasize this. Rude as THE FUCK. I went grocery shopping yesterday to get some shit for my sickness and the folks were just all ornery and mule-like. Nobody says excuse me or anything, or acknowledges you…this is how bad it can be:

While checking out, I said, “thank you ma’am” to the cashier and she said, “son where are you from?”

Me: Down South.

Her: I can tell. You have a nice day, hear?!

Chuuuch!

And for my DC folks, tonight looks like it will be a good night talentwise up in Bohemian Caverns (corner of 11th and U Streets, NW). We’ve got some folks coming in from Texas and some comedians from LA. Doors open at 6pm. Show should start around 730-8pm ish. Hosted by the Kid, Panama Jackson. I bet ya can’t do it like me…shiiiiiiiiit, what else are you going to be doing? Party with Panama Jackson or sit and watch television? The choice is yours…

Today is the day before a holiday I’m trying to get instituted. Since this year June 3rd falls on a weekend, I’m trying to petition the president to have the nation observe it on the first Monday of June every year.

You may have already guessed what day I’m referring to, but in case you haven’t, I’m talking about tomorrow, June 3rd, 2006, which is:

The 27th Annual Panama D. Jackson Celebration of Life, Liberty, and All Things Sexxy…

…also known as…

…my birthday.

Strangely, turning 27 (sometimes referred to as almost 30) doesn’t really bother me or make me feel any older. I don’t know if this is a function of just getting older in general, but I feel just as young now as I did when I was 18. Hopefully, I’m just a little bit smarter and wiser. Or maybe I’m just in denial of the fact that pretty soon my body will begin to fall apart and shit.

Despite having so many friends getting married (4 this summer alone) and friends starting to settle down and begin families, I feel no rush to get to that point. I kind of waiver on marriage sometimes anyway, and truthfully it’s more important that I have children than it is to get married. Specifically, I want a daughter so I can raise my queen. Yes, I am a sap at heart and I want a daddy’s little girl so that I can spoil the living shit out of her. Sadly, I’ve expressed this sentiment to many women I know and they’ve informed me that going into it with that mindframe has the potential to cause major problems between my daughter and wife (assuming I have one) of jealousy. Not exactly sure how I’m going to get around that one…because my daughter…

…you will hate her.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself here because like I said, I’m in no rush to get to that point.

The big 2-7…please everybody go out and have a drink on yourself in the name of celebrating my 27 years of existence on this big ole rock we like to call Earth.

Also, I’d like to give a quick shoutout to anybody who is celebrating a birthday soon or has celebrated one recently. In fact, if you are a Gemini…Happy Birthday.

What’s your favorite zodiac sign?? Gemini!!!

It’s not just a sign, it’s a way of life.

And why tell you today? Because I won’t even be checking this site tomorrow, so I decided to just let you all know today how important tomorrow is. I’m sexxy like that. And I want to make sure everybody knows to take a shot or have a drink for me. I’d like reports back people.

******

My birthday also marks my two year blogiversary. And yes that is corny as the fuck, but I started blogging on June 3, 2004. I knew my birthday was important, but it also signifies the day that I began to take over the world. And I have two other Geminis to thank for that.

And because I feel like saying it, “shower me with your loooooooove…”

*****

I’ve decided that I’m going to start blogging on my MySpace page from time to time too. Call it sheer boredom but what the hell, I still have absofuckinlutely no idea what to do with that damn page. So, short non-sensical blogs it is. At your leisure, and assuming that your employer hasn’t placed a MySpace embargo on your work computer, feel free to venture over to my site, leave a comment, search around or something. Who knows, one of these days I might actually add some real pictures, albeit for a short amount of time…a brotha needs his employment ya know.

www.myspace.com/panamadjackson

******

I might have to recuse myself from the Black Race for a period of no less than 1 week and no more that 1 month for one simple fact.

On Sunday, at the wedding I attended…was the very first time I’ve EVER heard the Rick James and Smokey Robinson song, “Ebony Eyes”.

*hanging head in shame*

I have no clue how this song has eluded me for so long, especially since I’m a Rick James fan. Hell, “Mary Jane” is one of my favorite songs of all time and has been since I first heard it in 9th grade. Granted, I’ve never cared for Smokey Robinson but that’s no excuse. I’ve learned that I’m not the only person who hasn’t heard this song before so maybe I’m taking this a little bit too seriously, but this song is so damn great, it instantly became a favorite. In fact, according to my iTunes tracker, I listened to this song 33 times yesterday at work. It would have been 99, except I put it on a 3 song playlist that played the entire day. I can’t tell you the other two songs I listened to because…

…I’m in the midst of a competition with another blogger to see who can put together the better old school CD. We have to make two 10 song playlists, one slow songs and the other midtempo, and send them to some folks to see which ones they like best. And the other two songs on my playlist are contenders. The only reason “Ebony Eyes” isn’t is because the other blogger was the first person to mention the song to me, so I concede that one.

****

A chick I know said something to me the other day in regards to a situation that has arisen and it got me to thinking. She said, “is that the change you want to make for your birthday?” Now me, being the ultrasmooth sexxy soul brother #2 that I am, I’ve never quite thought of my birthday as a time for change. In fact, for the most part there isn’t too much in my life that I’d want to change right now. That’s not entirely true, there are some situations that have occurred that have me secondguessing or overthinking or whatever, but that’s not really change, that’s more or less getting things that are already there in perspective. But in reality, there are no changes I’d make around this time that would be reflective of what needs to happen for my birthday…any change I make is obviously something that needs to change for my life. For instance, I could stand to be more financially smart, but then again, I operate as if I’m going to be very rich very soon, and am making certain moves to do so…so no real need for change there.

I could stand to eat healthier but that’s something that is always the case. The only real change that would ever need to be considered in my life, given that I live a pretty damn good life, would be the people in it. And I have to say, emphatically, I’m pretty damn lucky to have the friends that I do. Any frequenter to this site has read about my friends ad nauseum. We do trips, we fight, we don’t speak to eachother for a while, we go out to eat, we learn, we support…but we’re always still there for one another and thru it all, for the most part, nobody has to really question that friendship. Yes, there have been some tests. But I’ve never felt like I couldn’t depend on them. Or that I wasn’t significant. I’m not saying I need to get the red-carpet treatment, but I am saying, that with my friends, I know what it means to be their friend. We’re not perfect…like I said, we fight, but thats what happens in a family…a real one.

I’d like to say that I offer them the same thing they offer me. A bottom line level of trust, security, and appreciation. I’m talking the bare minimum. No need for lights, camera, action…just awareness that your friends do actually want to be your friends. Stumbled? Why yes I have (but I’m still not ordinary people…remember, they don’t know which way to go…me, I bought a map), but would I take a bullet for my friends? Yes I would. Two for a few of my boys because I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for them. And this goes for friends I’ve met online as well as friends I’ve known face-to-face, because for me, those lines are very blurry for some people, as I’ve met and kicked it with a sizeable amount of my online friends. And I’m talking major kickage.

To my friends, thanks…I’m lucky…and you are appreciated. And I’m alive for another year to recognize it.

So what’s the point of that little personally reflective monologue up there? There was no specific point…I’m just speaking out loud and being sappy and shit. Lest you forget, the kid teared up at a wedding recently. I’m feeling emotional like The Great Crack Queen, Whitney.

And it was also to see if in the time it took you to read that, if anybody’s car was stolen. According to some people’s figures cars are stolen every few minutes. Those were some long ass paragraphs, if you or somebody you know’s car wasn’t stolen in that time, well, we’re being lied to America!

Alright, enough with the sappy shit.

****

We in room 222!

****

Dammit…I JUST got an email with an evite in it for a cookout coming up in June. These two friends of mine who throw these joints ALWAYS have them on weekends I’m going to be out of town. And I mean that literally. I’ve been to like one of their events because no matter when they schedule it…Mr. Oh So Sexxy! is on his way out of town. Talk about coincidences that are about to become conspiracy theories.

****

To you, Thank you. I haven’t opened them yet. It’s not my birthday yet.

****

Happy Birthday to me…tomorrow! May you eat, drink, be merry without getting married. Hence may you eat, drink, be merry, and non-annulled.

I don’t know if this happens to anybody else so frequently, but I go through moments where my mind travels through various and sundry realms causing me to start a thought with Halle Berry and ending up thinking about the Cuban Missile Crisis or the Bay of Pigs Incident.

Knowledge is power. So, such as the case, I decided to just share. You’re welcome.

Oh yeah, Happy Cinqo de Mayo. Everybody hug a Mexican and then dap them up for whooping some French ass back in 1862.

-I think next week here at JGT Headquarters, I’m going to make it Hip-Hop Week. For a week straight, I’m going to do hip hop related posts. What that means is that I’m doing mostly personal hiphop related stuff, such as my 10 favorite hiphop albums of all time, which is a much harder undertaking than you might realize. Envision trying to find the cure for AIDS. That’s how hard it is going to be for me to do this. I’m just saying be prepared. I might even rev up the old rusty radio blog over there to the right and throw in some music to work to. I’m sexxy.

-You know what amazes me right now? It’s this notion that Lil Wayne AKA Weezy F. Baby (please say the Baby) is this lyrical, supernice rapper and shit, when in truth: he is not. He’s all swagger now. Have you actually listened to his past few singles? I mean he is saying pure and utter nothingness, but it sounds good. Now, on his past album The Carter (the first one) he was on some super lyrical shit then. Hell, it’s in my car right now and I’m actually impressed by his wordplay. Now…his rapping is about on par with them Laffy Taffy niggas, except he has the personality and swagger of Jay so its okay. And the Fireman song…not hot. That shit was the anti-hot.

-I have a confession to make. I only ask that after I make this confession, you don’t view me differently, nor judge me solely on this one admission. Peaches and herb, nigga. Peaches and herb.

Anyway, my confession is as follows: I, Panama Dontavious Jackson, not of the Gary, Indiana, Jacksons admit that I hereby like Nick Lachey’s song “What’s Left of Me” and further, own a copy of his new album, which I find to be actually pretty damn good. Seriously, I didn’t realize what a good songwriter he really is.

At this point, this admission should not be so strange given that I have admitted to liking: Omarion, Ray J, You Got Served!, Baby Boy, Hillary Duff, Brandy…well, I suppose you get the point by now.

-I also like Jagged Edge.

-I’ve gotten some strange emails lately. Apparently some people take the shit that I say on this here corner of the internet literally at all times. The problem that presents is that some people actually take offense AND TELL ME ABOUT IT. I guess nobody learnt them about me and folks taking offense to me. Well there are two ways I can handle that: 1) I can attempt to curb some of the statements and comments I’ve made (which have been rather tame by my past standards); OR…2) I can do what I’m going to do. Say fuck you and keep it moving pimpin’.

Shit, I just told you what I was gonna do but haven’t actually done it.

*clearing throat*

Fuck you. I’m gonna keep it moving.

“…quit trynna censor music this is for your kids amusment/but don’t blame me when little Eric jumps off of the terrace/you should have been watching him/apparently you ain’t parents…” -Eminem, “I Never Knew”, The Marshall Mathers LP

-Marriage season amongst my friends is kicking off at the end of this month and I couldn’t be happier. I have no less than 4 close friends of mine getting hitched this summer and one of my boy is finishing up a Ph.D. in Biomedical Engineering. Talk about overjoyed? I’m so happy I pledge to get at the VERY least tipsy at each one of the events that I attend. At my boy’s Ph.D. graduation…I’m getting drunk. Who knew black people got married and got Ph.D.s? Not me. I thought we all just had kids out of wedlock and stayed dumb for extend periods of time.

-Speaking of going dumb…I want somebody to stop trying to beat me over the head with “hyphy” music. For those not in the know, it’s a music style out of the Bay area in Cali. You know what the problem with hyphy music is? Come a little closer to the screen so you can read my words very loudly. You there? K.

THERE IS NOTHING EVEN REMOTELY DISTINCTIVE ABOUT IT. It will not catch on as a national trend because it doesn’t sound any different than shit else coming out of the South. And do you know why that is?? Come a little closer again.

BECAUSE LIL JON IS THE NIGGA PRODUCING THE DAMN SONGS.

The biggest commercially successful hyphy songs were done by Lil Jon. Further you know your shit isn’t distinctive when in every video, you actually put the words hyphy so people will realize that what they are indeed listening to is hyphy music. Oh, and that’s pronounced “hy-phee”. Hell, Keak Da Sneak, one of the “kings” of hyphy put the damn definition up on one of his videos. Not a good sign for hyphy. Just stop. Nobody had to put the word crunk in videos…it was just understood. And it had a distinctive style.

-Speaking of Kead Da Sneak, is it me (for the people that actually know who he is, I’m aware it might be 2 people outside of the Bay area), or is he the most non-intelligble rapper ever. To this day, I haven’t been able to understand a damn verse of his. The funny thing is, I’ve had people tell me they like him, further proof that rap is more personality driven than it is about actual rapping. I think its time for Andre 3000 to drop that album with dogs wailing in the background to platinum success.

-Though I really like the song, “Go Dumb (The Hyphy Version)” by E-40 and Keak Da Sneak. I might be committing rap blasphemy by saying this, but I HATE E-40. You will never be able to convince me that he is a good rapper. Especially not with lines like this:

“Jesus Christ had dreads so shake ‘em/I ain’t got none but I’m planning on growing some…”

…further, the liar is sitting in a barbershop chair getting his hair cut in the video. Good times.

-PSA: If you have a MySpace page and you’re a government official, do not put your name, phone number, on it and do not cavort with 14 year old girls in Florida in attemps to get some underaged nookie. You migth be actually cavorting with an undercover cop. And you might go to jail while the local DC news shows you being taken out of your home in the middle of the night like you’re a black person who did nothing wrong.

-Happy Friday and remember to go hug a Mexican and take a shot of Tequila!

Much like any inner-city urban youth does when going through some adverse times, over this past weekend I went and cuddled up to my one true love…

…mah’ music.

I jacked that in paraphrasatory manner from The Steve Harvey Show from one of the many episodes where Regina played Steve like a space-aged banjo. Either way, there is some truth in that statement. For some reason, from Thursday night thru Sunday evening, the time that should have been spent doing my taxes was time that was spent going through my music stacks and going hogwild. In total, I must have spent well over 20 hours sitting in or around my computer doing music related things.

Ironically, very little of that time was spent online since Comcast has decided that despite my on-time monthly payments for cable-internet service, I should only receive it at their whim. Smurfers!

Well, this time with my first love (mah’ music) caused me to do a lot of random thinking and come to realizations and out of the benevolence of my heart, I’ve decided to share them with you. How kind of me.

- On Thursday night, at about midnight, my little sister called me because she was bored. Mind you, I had to be at work on Friday but that didn’t seem to bother her much. So we sat on the phone until about 130am EST. Well, at that point, I was no longer tired so I did what any other sane person would do at 130am. I got up and went and surfed my CD’s trying to pull every old school hip-hop album I had (which came to about 45) because as soon as my sister and I got off the phone, I began thinking about making an old school playlist of songs that are GUARANTEED to get any dance floor filled with people over 24 hype. At 130am.

Plus, I really wanted to hear Black Sheep’s “The Choice Is Your’s” remix. At 130am. I love my family.

- I realized that Cypress Hill’s self-titled debut album, of which I have owned on CD since 1991, might be one of the first CD’s I ever purchased. I think the first one was TLC’s Oooooooooh…On The TLC Tip but I really can’t remember which I got first. All I know is that the first time I heard “How I Could Just Kill A Man” when it was playing in the movie Juice in 1991, I had to have it. I was 12. So my dad got it for me and folks wonder why I curse so much now.

RAP MUSIC IS WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE BLACK COMMUNITY.

-Anybody who really thinks that should be burned in a VW Jetta while Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca” plays in the background at blaring levels. They should also have their toenails plucked with Bic pens.

- I no longer hate KRS-One. Despite my admission that he’s a good rapper, I have NEVER been a fan. I’ve never owned a KRS-One album nor have I ever really liked one of his songs THAT much. I recently purchased BDP’s “classic” (yeaaaaaaah…okay) album, Criminal Minded…and I don’t like it. I could so live without that album.

However, “Step Into A World”, “MC’s Act Like They Don’t Know”, and “Outta Here” are hot songs. Period. And KRS really was on his smurf on those joints. I’m not saying I’m a fan for real. I’m just saying that I don’t hate him any longer.

- On a similar note, I think I have finally realized that Rakim really is the greatest rapper of all time. I have been listening to the Paid In Full album non-stop all weekend. And son was really that nice. I used to argue with folks about this since Jay is clearly always able to claim that spot, but this weekend, I was converted into a Rakim fan. However, his stock has fallen off further than Enron, and I’d be okay if I never heard anything new from him ever again.

All that to say, Rakim at his peak, was the best in the game.

- “You Know I Got Soul” by Eric B. & Rakim is one of the best hiphop songs ever. You can disagree, but you will be wrong.

- “They Reminisce Over You” by Pete Rock & CL Smooth is my favorite hiphop song ever. This is purely subjective, but I think this is the best beat ever made. And I would be more than willing to argue about this all the live long day as I realize there are LOTS of songs out there that could vie for title of Best Beat.

-Have you ever heard a song that you know was sampled by a hiphop group but you can’t put your finger on what song used it? That’s happened a few times over the course of my life. Well that happened to me recently. I was at my boy’s house and he played Junior’s song “Mama Used To Say.” For those who don’t think they know that song, I assure you, you do. It is the song with the famous lyrics:

“take your time young man/don’t you rush to get old…”

Anyway, I was perplexed to high Hell listening to that song until it dawned on me what song I remember it from. And it was at this point, my ignorance points reached new levels.

Poison Clan’s “I Hate Hoes”.

Yes, a song by pre-”Whu Dat” JT Money, about his disdain for hoes. The first lines of the song?

“I fell in love with a bitch so I married one/but a nigga in love with a bitch, is very dumb”

The chorus?

“I hate hoes/hoes hate me/I hate hoes/hoes hate me”

I’m so proud. I love ignorance.

-I created an old school hiphop club album this weekend and I had TOTALLY forgotten how effin’ great “Peter Piper” by Run-DMC is. Damn shame they got LL Cool J for that beat though. I didn’t even know until I read it on allhiphop.com (though it makes SO much sense) that the original beat for “Rock The Bells” (which is another of my favorite hiphop songs) was the “Peter Piper” beat. Run-DMC is grimey for that son. But just like in death, seniority usually rules.

-If ever there is a Hip-Hop Hall of Fame, and Bob James doesn’t get in for his contributions to the hip-hop catalog, somethig is foul in the state of Denmark. Seriously, Bob James (and George Clinton and James Brown) has been sampled more times than chinese food in the mall.

-Phyllis Hyman is one of my favorite singers ever. Now. And of course, she’s dead. I think I have an affinity for dead singers or something. All of my favorite voices are folks who have tragically met an end from Donny Hathaway to Sam Cooke to Minnie Ripperton to Marvin Gaye and now to Phyllis Hyman. Word to the wise, if you have a favorite singer that you cherish, make sure I never know about them. It might end badly.

-I mentioned before that I create compilation CD’s in a series that I call, “my mama’s music”, whose original intent was for me to send the CDs to my mother as gifts since she doesn’t want to hear all that hippety hop non-sense. Well, this weekend, I created THREE new compilations in the series. I went from Volume 2 to Volume 5. And as anybody who has tried to do it knows, creating a compilation CD is a difficult undertaking. It seems like you’d just throw a bunch of songs together, right?

Nope. If you really care about what you’re doing, you will think and re-think about songs that make the cut in attempts to make the perfect compilation. It’s a grueling process. Not unlike making sausage. And totally not like it at all.

-Are you still reading?

-I went to my favorite crack dealer, CD Depot in College Park, MD, and had Big Daddy Kane’s first album, Long Live The Kane, IN MY HAND. And put it back because for some reason, I wasn’t convinced it was the first album. What in the HELL was I thinking??? I haven’t been this pissed at myself since…hmm…this is a story.

Have you ever thrown clothes in the washer and dryer and then realized upon pulling them out that you had a ball point pen in with the clothes? Yeah, that happened to me. Luckily, it didn’t open so my clothes were fine. Now, the genius in me had 2 options here. 1) Throw it away. or 2) Open up the pen knowing good and damn well that the ink will spill all over the floor since it didnt happen in the dryer. Clearly option 2 is the wrong way to go.

But I just had to make sure it was the wrong way to go. So I opened up the pen cap and yep…just like I thought, black ink all over the floor and my hand.

Education has nothing to do with being smart. Trust me.

Moral of the story. I had the album in my hands and put it back. Quel idiote.

-Speaking of crack, my iPod has become so important to me that I’m literally AFRAID to leave it at home now. I want it with me everywhere. I put the playlists for all my compilations, of which I have around 10 now, on my iPod. I spent all 20 of the hours this weekend playing with my music (in the non-Andre 3000) way, on iTunes arranging and re-arranging.

Apple’s iPod changed my life.

First off, R.I.P. to rapper Proof (nee DeShaun Holton) from the Detroit group, D-12 who was killed at an afterhours spot in Detroit last nght. It is not a good year for Detroit on the rap front…at all. (via Allhiphop.com)

*****

“…straight up pimp, if you want me you can find me in the A…” - Big Boi, “Kryptonite”, Purple Ribbon All-Stars, Vol. 2

I went to see the movie ATL starring everybody’s favorite dopeboy, T.I., last night. I really enjoyed the movie and I’d recommend it to everybody. Is it cinematic perfection? No. But I go for entertainment. I was entertained.

Two thumbs up. And a pinky toe.

While watching the movie, I got a whole bunch of random movie, Atlanta, and life thoughts. So I figured, I’d share them. Also, there is a “twist” in the movie. I won’t share it here but I will say that it becomes quite obvious at one point AND for me, it was a relief in SO many ways.

Let us begin, shall we? Yes, let’s.

-I really miss Atlanta. From the opening scenes of the movie I found myself really missing being there. When the song “Georgia” by Ludacris and Field Mob came on, I almost shed a tear. Then I realized I went to the movies by myself and a bunch of teenage pseudo-thugs would probably begin laughing at me. So my pride caught me. Thank goodness. Bottom line, I really miss Atlanta.

-I thought that the movie did a good job of representing Atlanta. And especially the Southside of Atlanta. Yeah, they took some liberties with the actual location of some things but hey, it’s a movie. That area of Atlanta really looks like that. And Jason Weaver cleary doesn’t get enough acting roles. One time for SouthWest Atlanta AKA The SWATS.

-Lauren London is fine. She made one fine smurfin’ hoodrat too. But her accent irritated me to high Hell. I cringed listening to her talk. My mother’s entire side of the family is from the West side of Atlanta. All those places you hear T.I. talking about on his songs…yeah, that’s my momm’a side, Bankhead, Bowen Homes, and Adamsville.

I am the Adamsvillain.

“…I got that shit from Simpson Road/Adamsville, Bowen Homes, Center Hill, Zone 4…” - T.I. , “Ride Wit’ Me”, King

Don’t NOBODY on my momma’nem side talk like she did. I NEVER cringe listening to my family members. She made me cringe.

Big ups to Adamsville.

-I have a personal story to share. One of my boys, The Great, called me the other day to talk about the movie. I hadn’t seen it so we strayed away from the movie, but he did have a question for me.

The Great: Yo, is Mechanicsville a real neighborhood?

Peyton Place Panama: Yeah…dude, are you serious?

The Great: Yeah, I thought they were trying to make it like it was Adamsville or something.

Peyton Place Panama: Seriously, you’re joking right?

The Great: *silence* No, why you asking?

Just like in ATL, we get a “twist” in the story right here. Waaaaaaaaaait for it…

Waaiiiiiiiiit for it…

Peyton Place Panama: Nigga, BECAUSE YOU LIVE IN MECHANICSVILLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Great: WHAT???!?!!!

Peyton Place Panama: Dude, you fuckin’ live in Mechanicsville. Well close enough. You know the corner of Pryor Road and Abernathy…that’s Mechanicsville. Nigga, there’s a fuckin’ sign right there that says…Mechanicsville. You drive by that shit like everyday and you have never ONCE noticed it????

The Great: Wait…you’re surely right!!! Oh shit…I sure do!

In the two days since we have had this conversation, he called me yesterday morning to tell me he saw the sign, and texted me this morning to tell me that he was “driving thru Mechanicsville. Est. 1893″.

Further, he’s been living in Atlanta for the past 9 years now and actually in the vicinity of Mechanicsville for like 2. I’d like to offer my congratulations to the Least Observant Negro In History.

Mechanicsville, Atlanta, Georgia for those that don’t know, don’t show, or just don’t care about what happens in the hood is located in South West Atlanta south of I-20, west of the 75/85 connector and borders the railroad on the south and west. Sheesh…negroes.

-I don’t know what its like in other cities, but going to the skating rink really is a big deal in Atlanta. I used to live on MLK before I moved to DC and about a year before I graduated, they opened up the Cascade Family Skating Center which is prominently displayed in the movie on MLK Blvd. That place is ALWAYS jumpin’ on the weekends. When my cousin, who is now like 15 and going to Douglass (or Doug for the locals), would get in trouble her punishment would be that she couldn’t go to Cascade. Her world would end that weekend, literally. It’s really as packed as they show in the movie and it’s really as live as they show in the movie.

In undergrad, my boy Barry used to work at Sparkle in Riverdale. Like clockwork, every weekend we’d be up in there trying to look good and snag some chicks because on Sunday nights…that’s where the chicks were. Though I said that gangsta’s don’t roller-skate, there sure are a bunch of niggas on skates doing tricks that look like they’ll rob you as soon as you walk out. If you’re in Atlanta and you want to see some real local fun…go to the skating rink, and if you’re not afraid to be on MLK Blvd. at midnight, go to Cascade.

-I thought that the group of friends really came off well. They seemed like real friends who could joke with eachother and understood that everybody was trying to make it. Nobody was trying to hold anybody back or judge anybody for being who they were. They had the prep boy who was trying to make it out the hood, the uber-ghetto negro who just loved being an uber-ghetto negro (Jason Weaver…get him more ghetto parts STAT), Rashad (T.I.) who is like any other regular cat in the hood who’ just living trying to do something with himself and his family, and the NY transplant who reminds everybody that he’s from NY at every turn.

Niggas from NY really do that too. It’s like there’s NY, then the rest of the world. They even had a good little convo about that at the requisite ATL stop, Waffle House.

I can’t not do this, so bear with me.

Can we please have a moment of silence for the infamous North Avenue IHOP?

*silence*

If you never experienced it, your life is missing something. You betta know dat.

-Big Boi from Outkast is a show stealer. He pulled off being a dopeboy so well it was almost frightening. He was a little too cool-and-callous. Funny as hell in the most frightening way possible.

-In the beginning scenes of the movie, Rashad, his brother Ant, and his Uncle are cleaning up a Value Village which just HAS to be the one on Metropolitan Parkway. That conjured up memories from February 2005 when I was in Atlanta and the cashier at Value Village got all uppity with me cuz I didnt know that at Value Village, the cashiers don’t remove the hangers themselves…the customers do. So just like in February 2005…

…I’d like to send an Extra Special Fuck You out to the Value Village on Metropolitan Parkway for having the nerve to be bougie…at Value Village on Metropolitan Parkway also know in Atlanta as, “the track.” Not to be confused with the “trap”. The trap has the dopeboys, the track has the hoes.

-Shoutouts to Spelman College getting mentioned in the movie. Needless to say, Spelman holds a special place in my heart and will always be my favorite place on Earth. Extra special shoutouts to Packard Hall, though I’m an Abby and HH man myself.

-Speaking of famous Atlanta landmarks, I love how Eddie’s Gold Teeth makes it up in the movie. Grills have always been popular in Atlanta, but it seems like Eddie’s has gotten way more popular in the last few years. It is also one of the longest running search queries to this site. Every month, no less than 5 people do searches for Eddie’s Gold Teeth and end up on my site. Hell, I didn’t even know where it was until I realized so many people were searching for it and I was informed that it’s at Greenbriar Mall, which is my favorite mall in Atlanta, with Cumberland coming in second. You need shoes, some bomb chinese food, or some good This Is It!! ribs??? Greenbriar is your spot.

-There is one scene in the movie that is hilariously funny. Let’s just say Lost in Translation takes on a whole new meaning when involving a nigga from Atlanta. It is also a scene that SO many people who venture to Atlanta from other places can relate too. In college, me and my boy Johnny Kwest would go to the Checkers on MLK (Adamsville beeyotch!) and I would intentionally let JK do the ordering because he could NEVER understand what the Checkers employees were saying. You can’t create comedy like that, it just has to fall into your lap. I’d have to translate all the time. Nothing is funnier than hearing this:

Checker’s Worker: ‘Sup shawty…whajaogjaodihjaoi…knowhumtalkin’bout?

Johnny Kwest: Ummm…Uhhhhh…*turning to me* What in the FUCK did he just say????!!??

Peyton Place Panama: He just asked if you wanted a banana milkshake.

JK: No shit???

PPP: Yep.

JK: I don’t know how in the hell you can understand that shit. *turning back* Naw nigga…give me 2 .99 cent spicy chicken sandwiches.

CW: Ok…weljsaljfoidoajfodajoijfijadodjofojo…

JK: Shit…sure. *driving around to the front*

Also, I’d like to send an extra special fuck you out to Checker’s in Washington, DC for NEVER having $. 99 spicy chicken sandwiches when in Atlanta, them hoes are ALWAYS $ .99.

-This movie is also home to one of the WORST sex scenes ever in a movie, if it was even supposed to be that. Trust me on this one. You’re kids don’t have to close their eyes.

Since this is getting long…

-Overall, it’s a good movie with some laughs, some heartwarming moments, some life lessons, some fine ass women (synonymous with Atlanta), some hoodrats (synoymous with Atlanta), and a bunch of dudes trying to figure out life. Well worth the entertainment…

“…you can find me in the A…A….A….”

Boy stop!

Good morning.

Today…is a good day. Not unlike yesterday. Or tomorrow. In fact, tomorrow will bring a better you, a better me.

However, it is so hard to say goodbye, to yesterday.

Yes, today, Panama has absolutely nothing to talk about…but everything to say.

I am an enigma.

I am also sexxy.

Love me. Love me, say that you love me.

I have a confession to make. I’ve gone and done it. Yeah, the big “it”. I’ve been avoiding it like the plague because I was afraid if I did it, it would open me up to ridicule from the masses of people who believe in me. Hell, I was afraid to disappoint myself.

Somebody…hold me.

Don’t you love how just uber-random this shit is? It’s gonna be like this the whole way through. You should keep reading though, this gets interesting in a soap opera kind of way by the time we get to the end…trust me.

If The Champ over at The Royal Youngs is a lemming (I think that’s what he said), then I’m an Alaskan anteater following little dark dots around aimlessly hoping for it not to be pepper, but for it to be the key to success and more like sprinkles.

No, I didn’t go to Starbucks or watch more BET.

I joined…

…MySpace. At the prodding of one of my compadres, I was convinced to join the newest low-income housing development in the e-streets. It’s just past Al Gore Blvd. and right next to Web Circle. I have built my home at…

… www.myspace.com/panamadjackson.

*hanging head in shame*

Honestly, this shit is quite addictive. There are just so many people on there I don’t even know where to begin looking…or hell, what I’m even looking for.

Well, what the hell are you waiting for (after me there shall be no more)?

Alright, now let’s get down to business bitches, cuz it seems that y’all just keep on trying to diss this nigga that you know that’s been down for years….

1) I watched Black.White. again last night. My hatred for the white couple is lessoning but my hatred for Carmen (the black wife) has increased hundredfold. She just annoys the flying squirrel shit out of me. I might discuss this more in a later post because the black folks are really turning me into fans of the white family. And the white girl telling the black folks that she was white took some major cajones and I’m somewhat inclined to think that she must have also told them they were on a television show because she made it back to Santa Monica from Crenshaw unscathed. It’s like she infiltrated a Black Panther base or something. Interestingly enough, it made me respect her more. And yes her mother is very naive and definitely needs to take a class or two on sensitivity training, but Carmen blew that bitch thing WAY overboard. Fuck her.

2) I hate Jade on America’s Next Top Model with the passion of 10,000 gila monsters and a gecko from Geico. And a partridge and a pear tree. We have also just seen the manifestation of the Black-Girl-Got-Hair-Now-So-She-Think-She-Fly Syndrome in Furonda who not only couldn’t stop looking at herself, but also somehow managed to increase her confidence greatly. And I must agree with Nigel, she does look like E.T. with hair…at all times.

Now for the coup de grace…

My people, my people…somebody has stolen some of my shit…AGAIN!!! AND had the nerve to be SLOPPY about it…AGAIN.

I really need to hold a seminar on how to be a better criminal, I swear I do.

If you are indeed a woman and you jack a man’s post, make sure that he does not refer to himself as a “man/dude/soul brother #2″ in a jacked work. It will bode badly for you. And apparently shit that makes into the net has some serious legs, much like Amerie in the “1 Thing” video or Tina Turner on her amazing Ike-Can’t-Beat-Me-Now Tour AKA What’s Love Got To Do With It.

I was emailed this morning by somebody who noticed the post I’d written about being on a flight with Dem Franchize Boyz being used by someone else as if it was their own story. El dumbass even said that she had just gotten off the flight three hours ago.

*chuckle*

Dumbass.

Allow me to link you to said transgression against King Panama by one Prada1.

Prada1, come on down!!!!!!!!

*Price Is Right music playing rapidly in the background while the ignant jackster runs boobs-a-floppin to the front stage*

It can be found on a message board on some site called Lipstick Alley.

Feel free to go there and check out the similarities. Also notice how I mention that I’m “not a first class dude” and somebody asks her if she is a guy to which she responds, “no she is not”.

Once more, people people people, if you are going to jack somebody’s shit…PLEASE CLEAN IT UP!!!!! For the love of all things fuscia…read the shit and clean it up!!!

Also, notice that the person who called her out, mentioned the once bloggadocious Kajuana (R.I.P.). She really was famous!

Either way, the sloppy stealing needs to cease, for real. I’m not even offended at being jacked.

I’m Panama Muhfuckin’, it’s going to happen.

What does offend me is the uber-bitchmade sloppiness with which it happens. You think I’m so small time that my work won’t even get noticed.

And that’s what hurts. Why don’t nobody love me?

I do have fans!! Fucker!!!

Those are jokes people…I’m not THAT stuck on myself. Today.

Either way, to the person who outted her, thank you and thanks for the email.

To Prada1, step your game up gangsta, you SUCK right now.

Finally, one of my boys gave me a suggestion that I think I will run with. This will either bite me in the ass, be ridiculously fun, or prove that nobody really does give a shit about the Once And Former King Panama.

So, I’d like to ask for suggested blog topics. All next week, I will post every day with one of the suggested topics that are presented. If I get an abundance of possible topics, I will keep it going for a while. If I get no topic suggestions, I will light myself on fire with a rusty barnacle and Betty Boop, pout, then take a 2 day vacation in South Central. I welcome any and all suggestions, be they funny or serious or just outrageously stupid. No topic is off-limits. Just place them in the comments and I’ll do the rest.

To recap:

1) Check out my MySpace page: www.myspace.com/panamadjackson

2) Check out the LipStick Alley Jack-Ass.

3) Offer up some blog topics…please.

“…I’m writing to show you what we fightin’ for…” - Talib Kweli, “The Blast”

Television this past week has been filled with lots of blog fodder…so today, I shall randomly discuss many of the occurences since I don’t feel like doing a post on all of them individually.

Follow me…and if you’re slow…back that ass up.

-Everybody saw the show Black.White. on Wednesday night. I’m no different. If anything this show won’t exactly change race relations, though it will give me something to laugh about. And for the record, I hate EVERYBODY on the show EXCEPT the white girl. Bruno is the standard white man who doesn’t think racism exists, the black father (can’t remember his name) has already turned into the angry black man. I think there’s a bit of lost-ness on both of their parts. The black man is so angry, I swear I saw him point to an oil spot on the road and say that it was the white man’s way of saying black folks aren’t better than a box of Wheaties. That might be confusing for some.

Me too.

Conversely, the white dude is so oblivious that they held a KKK rally in front of their house and the white dude just said they were Sheet salesmen from Sears. The boy sucks, the wives need to just oil up and fight now. At least the girl isn’t dumb enough to think that she really is going to be a black person. Also…did you see the newfound love the two white folks found when they changed colors? Man…I felt dirty just watching them as they lusted for eachother in their new skins. Somebody needs to take on THAT angle, STAT. Shit, two seconds as black folks and they were ready to get that jungle love going. And yes, junglebunny has to be one of the strangest racial slurs ever.

This show will clearly be discussed weekly while its on.

-The new season of America’s Next Top Model has started. And similar to Black.White., I damn near hate every chick on the show thus far. Except the racist white Republican chick who didn’t make it into the house. I love her. She needs a reality show quick. I want to see her in a house with Flavor Flav or Crunchy Black. Some cable exec had to be watching ANTM and realized the gold mine that she is. Questioning why any black person would work at Abercrombie & Fitch (since we don’t wear clothes like those) and THEN countering with, “I mean, I wouldn’t get a job at FUBU…” Classic. I love her. That’s how I like my racists: honest, unapologetic, and totally unafraid to expose themselves on national television while trying to CONVINCE people to give them a chance. Oh yeah, I also like my racists to not believe they are racists…that’s how you drive up ratings.

As far as the rest of the cast, they picked one helluva psychologically jacked up cast. Jade, the “bi-racial butterfly” who is so arrogant that even I hate her (and trust me, that’s saying somethign), to the Confused Asian chick, to the black woman who’s mama needs to be slapped 18 ways from July 4th, FURONDA…

STOP.

I know a lot of black folks are on this whole idea of: why must we conform with our name choices to mainstream society? We shouldn’t be discriminated against for being the creative people that we are. Well, black people, there you go. This is what happens when we decide to go that creative route. Her name is Furonda. Unless there is an African country, river, village, or juju-bee named Furonda, I assume her momma likes fur. We need to have some kind of naming Commission or something. I’ll even volunteer to head it up. If you come with a WACKTASTIC name you get the gas face, the thizz face, and Joan Rivers should be able to slap you with a used tire. Then…as an additional punishment, you are either given the name Bob (not Robert…Bob) if your kid is a boy, or Rebecca if it’s a girl, by default. No if’s, ands or buts about it.

Continued. Danielle is alright except for her teeth. She has the Tyson Beckford grill. It’s kind of like the Foreman Grill, only this one gives you a burger with pockets. Then there’s Mollie Sue…this is the current white equivalent of Furonda. It is now 2006. She is no older than say 25. What in blue thunder were her parents thinking in the early 80’s? I knew a chick in high school named Molly. She was handicapped and drove one of those scooters and used to run over everybody in the hallway. Shit….

…she’d take out your ankles in a New York Minuute. Which is something like what’s left of Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillipe’s marriage.

And Nnenna ain’t that fine…she just has a good backstory and gives good face. Which sounds like porn lingo.

-My favorite channel right now, vh1, is running their “I Love Toys” special. And do you know The Big Wheel was ranked like number 30 something? THE BIG WHEEL??? One of the most revolutionary toys ever. For the record, the voters have come up with a list of the 100 best toys and their staff of B-List celebrities are discussing them. It’s great. I’d love to work there. In fact that has supplanted, Be One of the men Halle Berry runs off, as my number one goal in life now…work for vh1.

Just a great show like all the rest of their shows.

vh1 also had the DMC Adoption special. That was heartwarming. I wonder what the over/under on the number of days before one of his newfound brothers or sister and mother asks for some money. I’m saying it took 2 weeks. Any bets?

And of course, vh1 has the Flavor of Love finale. I might shed a tear. We need more Flavor Flav in our lives.

BREAK IN THE PROGRAMMING FOR APOLOGY FROM JACKSON G. TICKLE ENTERPRISES PUBLIC RELATIONS MANAGER:

Panama Jackson would like to apologize upfront for the following transgression. The temptation was too strong and he could not stop himself. That is all. All questions and beefs may be targeted here.

-I watched College Hill on BET last night. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t even know it was coming on I just happened to be scrolling thru my channels and there it was. So I went to view it and see which HBCU was next to call their morality into question. This season, the winner/loser is Virginia State University. They even managed to get a white Paul Wall-ish dude into the house. They ran two episodes yesterday. So far the Puerto Rican chick is clearly going to be the hell raiser. She’s gone topless in the jacuzzi DURING HOMECOMING WITH A BUNCH OF FOLKS IN HER PRESENCE and got upset because niggas weren’t acting right.

Ummm…riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Somehow, one of the dudes in the house still hangs with his 44 year old frat brother (they are Ques) who comes into a house full of 18-22 year olds and tries to holler at the women. This dude might need to be easy because he has that R.Kelly-Woody Allen look in his eyes the whole time. But this cast doesn’t seem so bad yet though the entire first two episodes were dedicated to who was going to “hook up” which is funny because apparently black folks are starting to use that term, though ironically, when one of the black folks said it, I knew exactly what that meant…fucking.

Don’t you love how I just totally misused the word “ironically” in that sentence?

Between all of vh1’s quality programming and all of these other can’t miss shows, looks to be one hell of a season for TV watching.

And I’d like to once again apologize for watching BET, but at least I didn’t watch the Lil Kim series…my hypocrisy only goes so far.

Good Night and Good luck.

Ichiban bitches.

Time for another edition of random thoughts from an office somewhere in Washington, DC.

Relax yourself girl, please settle down.

-I think Flavor of Love is the best show on television right now. This show has jumped from guilty pleasure to the show I want to call everybody and tell them to watch. I’m going to be sad to see it end. Is it ignorance personified? Yes. Is it further proof that there are at least 10 women in the world with absolutely NO other purpose than to be video hoes? Hell yes. Did Punkin deserve to get molly-the-fuck-wopped for spitting torpedo style on New York? Without a doubt. It’s been said before, but this is The Black Bachelor. There is nothing cookie cutter about this show. Flavor Flaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaav! He is my choice for man of the year!

-I’d also like to go on the record and admit that I watch Grey’s Anatomy. Every Sunday. I tried to avoid it but my younger sister got me hooked. And I’d like to slap the monkey shine shit out of Meredith for using poor George like she did. She is an assmonkey and should be given the heeby jeeby’s and the Bee Gee’s for her actions. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, watch the show.

-I just checked CNN.com and it appears that Justice Antonin Scalia has become the newest spokesman for the gun-toting NRA nuts out there. I’m well aware that everybody in the NRA isn’t just itching to shoot something every 10 seconds. However, I’ve also read one of the NRA’s monthly magazine. Talk about totally misguided people. There was even a quote that stated there was proof that the more people owned personal handguns, the less crime occurred. I’d like to see the study that made a positive correlation between those two things. I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but it sounds to me like one of those instances of making the stats fit the position. Kind of like Ice Hockey in Hong Kong…only not at all.

Anyway, this is what Scalia said to the National Wild Turkey Federation, which I somehow think has less to do with a buch of Wild Turkey’s coming together to set an agenda for the continued progress of the species and more to do with a bunch of middle-aged white men trying to find new ways to kill them. Gander if you will…um, no pun intended:

“The attitude of people associating guns with nothing but crime, that is what has to be changed,” Scalia told the audience of about 2,000.

“I used to travel on the subway from Queens to Manhattan with a rifle,” he said. “Could you imagine doing that today in New York City?”

It seems that the good Justice wants folks to be able to walk around with guns all willy nilly. I wonder if that includes us little nigras in the inner city ghettoes that these people wouldn’t venture to if their wives were kidnapped by Christopher Walken and Laurence Fishburne.

And there are folks carrying rifles on the subway today in New York City, Antonin. They are called the U.S. Military.

-Master P should be shot by the U.S. Military on a New York City subway for being a grown ass black man with no rhythm. Thank you.

-Has anybody else noticed that R. Kelly STILL hasn’t been to trial yet?

-I must mention this again. But poor Busta Rhymes. Riding high off his comeback courtesy of Dr. Dre and Aftermath Records. How pissed would you be to see him wearing a Stop Snitching t-shirt right about now? Me, I’d be heated and I’d throw potatoes at white people in Idaho. I read on Allhiphop (which doesn’t necessarily give this much credence) that he went to Cali to avoid a New York State subpoena. Not sure how much truth there is to that. But damn…I’m just glad I’m not a rapper and don’t have to live by shit like that for street credibility. Then again I also miss out on all of the video hoes and free access to any STD imaginable. But I guess you can’t make an omelete without breaking a few eggs.

I’m sure that will make sense to somebody. I’m also sure that somebody will actually consider whether or not that’s a worthy trade-off.

-Howard University, the other white meat, is holding a Hip Hop Symposium on it’s campus at the end of March. I think that when I hit it big, I’m going to have one of them there symposiums myself and partner with an HBCU so I can bring all these people who come here and think that rap is garbage and put them on stage with other folks like myself so we can battle it out in public. I’m sure there are actually people who hold views similar to T. (look at that, you got a shoutout in one of my posts) on one of the spectrum and then there are people like me on the whole other end. We might also make it pay per view and feature a boxing ring where for every good point somebody makes, the other gets to take blast their favorite rap or other song. Either that or everybody will just take shots of Grey Goose and then we have a After Symposium Jam filled with nothing but the clean version of rap songs and Willie Nelson.

But, something I did want to mention was that these symposiums rarely feature people, especially younger black folks, who have a disdainful opinion on rap. It’s always people who are rappers trying to explain what needs to happen. Coincidentally, they are also some of the oldest and currently least selling rappers in the game right now. Ironic? I think not.

Bottom line, when I hit it big, some of you will get calls from me.

-I realized the other day that I know one person who actually still watches BET. I’d like to say that my plan is working, but the fact is, BET just sucks and has been running people away faster than the creator AYD’S Weight Loss regiment. I saw this on vh1’s WebJunk show. Apparently, in the late 70’s (I think), there was a fellow who created the AYD’s weight loss regimen. Talk about the WORST name for a produce, weight-loss, no less. I wonder where that dude is now.

Anyway, BET has apparently run anybody who would actually watch it away. Not that I care much, I just feel that it’s important to do BET updates from time to time.

-I went to the University of Maryland for grad school. With that in mind, I’d like to say that I’m a huge Duke Blue Devils fan. And I love JJ Redick.

And fuck the Maryland Terrapins and have fun in the National Invitational Tournament.

I have become bored with myself.

That is all for now.

Over the past few weeks, some brash and uncouth young lady has been coming thru this site with designs on getting me to come “out” of the closet.

Essentially, she thinks that I’m brokeback. Umm…no brokeback. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The more you know.

*ding*

Well you know, she got me to thinking. Maybe I should come out of the closet. There really is nothing wrong with admitting certain things. People either love me for me, or not at all. As long as I’m okay with myself…that’s all that matters right?

Right.

Mama said there’d be days like, there’d be days like this, my mama said. It is time for me to just open up the closet door, and step out.

*sweating bullets*

Ladies and gentlemen…I’m…

…the sexxiest muhfucka this side of the River Jordan. And that shit ain’t in Chicago, jack.

Wow, that was easier than I thought it would be. And to think I was nervous telling people what they already knew.

However, old igmo got me thinking about the fact that there are some things that I probably should come out of the closet about, with this being Black History Month and all. Or as I so affectionately like to call it, the Annual Monthly Stoned Soul Picnic and BBQ, complete with the revolutionary Black Panther BBQ sauce courtesy of Fredrika Newton (Huey P. Newton’s widow), Burn Baby Burn Revolutionary Hot Sauce!

And no, I’m not making that up.

“Each bottle of Burn Baby Burn Revolutionary Hot Sauce will come with a tag noting milestones in the history of the Black Panther Party for Self- Defense, which was formed in 1966 by Huey Newton and his college classmate Bobby Seale.”

Oy vey.

I know that’s old news for some, but its Black History Month, we must rehash old facts.

Dr. Martin Luther Tha King, Jr. lived, had some dream, then died.

Fact.

That is all. You may now continue with European History.

So, without further ado (adieu…can somebody please tell me which is the proper form to use when saying “withour further…”)…I’m coming out of the closet.

*sighing in preparation for the long admit*

1. I don’t really like The Color Purple. I never have. I have seen it more times than I care to imagine, but even now, I get little enjoyment out of watching the actual movie. The last time I saw it, which was last summer sometime, I did find it to be much funnier than I remembered. However, I still wasn’t enthralled. And yes, I’m aware that I’m a man and I’ve heard more than enough “you wouldn’t understand because you’re a man and its a movie about women’s struggles” arguments. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. It’s ALSO a movie. Me no likey.

2. I can’t read. *OOPS* That’s from a taped conversation with Fantasia. How’d that get in here??

3. I like Mandy Moore. A lot. In fact, she is one of my favorites. This is not to say she can act. She has proven she can’t. I, however, pay that no mind. Just the other day I watched the movie Chasing Liberty because while I was flipping thru channels she showed up on my TV screen. I watched the whole movie because of her. She’s 5′10″ and 21 years old. She’s legal.

I only threw the 5′10″ thing in there because I can’t believe she’s that tall. I thought it was camera angles. Turns out, she’s just that damn tall.

4. I do not like chicken with bones in them. Yes, I’m a breast man. *rimshot* No really, I do not like wings, thighs, etc. Never have. I do not know why this is. However, if you ever want to make sure I won’t take any of your food, order some wings.

5. I was such a big fan of the show Friends, that I went to a Friends “Last Episode Party”. Yes, I was one of two black males there, with the other one only being there because I think he was trynna holler at the hostess. I also happened to know more about the show than the cascades of white people there causing people to whisper under their breath, “who’s that dashingly charming black bandana’d fellow of potential Latin American descent over there?”

Why, he’s Zorro. I, on the other hand, am Panama Jackson.

And, no brokeback to that entire paragraph up there.

6. Two of my favorite albums of all time are noted, footnoted, and notebooked as NWA’s EFIL4ZAGGIN and De La Soul’s de la soul is dead. However, what you don’t know is that if I have to chose between those two albums and Guns ‘N Roses’ Apetite For Destruction or Nirvana’s Nevermind, NWA and De La Soul might lose everytime. And they’re all going to lose if I can only take one album with me. That honor, goes to Splender Halfway Down The Sky. And no, you haven’t heard of them before.

7. Speaking of music, I just, as in three days ago, purchased Michael Jackson’s Thriller. For the first time. Some 24 years after its release. In my home, we had the album, but I’ve never owned my own copy. I purchased a Hillary Duff album, a 5th Dimension album (they had like ONE good song EVER), and two Lil Kim albums, before purchasing the 2nd best selling album in US history. I also purchased a reggae Best of The Best CD that I subsequently threw out of my car window for being so horrendously bitchtastic. I’m so ashamed at myself and I hope Michael Jackson can forgive me.

My mother too.

8. I hate hate hate black literature of the Zane variety. I think its filth flarn filth and utterly fuckin’ sucks. I’ve tried to read some of those books and just felt dirty and dumber. So, I chose to lump it all together. They all suck.

9. I never liked KRS-One. Ever. Still don’t. At all. Or Doug E. Fresh. And since I’m throwing rappers under the bus Terrell Owen’s style, I didn’t even like Tupac until AFTER he died. And I’m STILL more interested in the person than I am the uneven catalog of music that existed before his legacy was pimped Puffy style. And make no mistake, Puffy is pimping the Notorious B.I.G. like he’s in the running for Player of The Year. I hate to do this, but I’m almost convinced that Mrs. Wallace is too, though not as directly. Money might be short these days. I’m not saying I don’t understand, but that B.S. ass Duets album that has like, no duets, on it? Fuckin’ horrible and clearly a ploy to make money off a limited catalog and his name. And to quote the legendary B.I.G.:

“Number three: never trust no-bo-dy/
Your moms’ll set that ass up, properly gassed up/
Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck/
she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up”

Prophesy is a bitch.

10. I’m not a fan of Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, or BET. There, I said it.

Oh right…no shit. Guess this one doesn’t count.

So here’s a last bonus:

11. I really have no problem with Oprah Winfrey. I’m just afraid of her. She’s the most powerful woman in show business and white people love her. She’s like Suge Knight except she doesn’t smoke cigars, isn’t a Blood, and hasn’t been to jail. Oh yeah, and white people love her. She loves HBCU’s and takes in orphans. What’s not to like? I hate…to stop from crying. And no, I have no idea what that has to do with anything.

The revolution will not be televised…except on UPN…where during Black History Month, lots of movies with black people in them will be shown.

Happy BBQ!

I’m getting my Jay-Z on today and jacking the worldwide leader in sports columnist DJ Gallo (who ironically jacked that idea from some other ESPN columnist…or maybe a Sports Illustrated columnist…not that there’s anything wrong with that).

Every Friday he writes a column where he lays out 10 things that crossed his mind, sports related (I won’t be sports related), while doing some inane task like sharpening a pencil or staring at Jessica Simpson’s potentially airbrushed derriere. And you know what? Her boots are made for walking.

God bless America.

Also, have you noticed how long my entry titles are getting lately?

I’m sexxy. Anyway, let’s get to the list of things I think I thought while driving down Michigan Avenue (NE for those of you in DC who will wonder which part of Michigan Avenue I was on).

1. I think Lionel Richie was a pimp of magnanimous proportions. I have no actual proof of this, but due to the anti-modern day rap commenter T.’s assertion that that Lionel Richie and ‘nem made much more quality music, I decided to break out a Commodores CD. At the beginning of “Just To Be Close To You”, a young Lionel is talking to some woman for a good minute and a half before they actually start singing, and I’ll be damned if he didn’t sound like he had his rap down tight. I’m not saying he was a good pimp, but he definitely had the makings. Also, he (with he being Lionel) can’t sing. Thank you.

2. If he was still alive, B.I.G.G.I.E. AKA B.I.G. (get it?) would absolutely go down as the greatest rapper of all time, supplanting, if not removing altogether, any claims that Jay Z has made to the throne. I’m a Jay-Z fan, hands down. In fact, I’m such a Jay fan I don’t even like Nas’ “Ether” that much. However, I think Biggie was better. I was listening to songs like “Unbelievable” and “Kick In The Door” (a song which would never have happened if Puffy had his way) and I’m just amazed at what he pulled off. Biggie was the man.

[***DISCLAIMER: For the folks out there who can't read, I didn't say that Biggie was the greatest of all time. I said he WOULD have been. Two albums is not enough to give him the crown...and I know it isn't his fault. If you ask me, I'll say Jay. However, I can call Master P the ungreatest of all time. Thank you. ***]

3. I was reading Allhiphop.com last week and Benzino was interviewed about he and Dave Mays recent removal from The Source Magazine (though apparently they are still the majority owners, I have no idea how that happens…I count for a living) and I realized that Benzino gives the worst interviews ever. He absolutely answers no questions nor does he say anything really worth listening too. He also seems quite delusional in his rap skills and in the belief that anybody is actually a fan of his. I think Benzino might be the one black rapper in America without even a white fan.

4. Apparently I’ve been lying to myself for many years. You see, I’m a mixed kid, and one without many issues. However, that is because I’ve been living the life as a “black” dude. I’ve been doing a disservice to mixed people nationwide (maybe even worldwide) by “chosing” to be black. This fact was illuminated to me when I stumbled upon the mixed kid support/media site, Mixed Media Watch. This is a fascinating site developed by two mixed women (I think…that it’s developed by two women, I know they’re mixed), who make it their purpose to discuss issues relating to mixed race people, and race in general in sometimes quit interesting and thought provoking ways. I guffaw at much of it, but maybe, by not running around espousing my pride at being mixed, I’m denying myself to…myself. I will be writing more about this at a later time because I have A LOT to say.

By the way, I really don’t think I’m denying who I am…at all. That was sarcasm and that site makes me feel better for being who I am.

5. Best Buy is poison. That at the CD Depot on Baltimore Avenue in College Park, Maryland. It is literally impossible for me to go into either of those stores with ONE thing in mind to purchase and not walk out 100 dollars lighter. In fact, I actually have to bar myself from going to these stores. You ever put a moratorium on yourself to not go somewhere? For instance, yesterday I went to Best Buy to buy some blank CD’s. I even walked straight to the blank CD section. I left with a Playstation 2 game, a Lynyrd Skynyrd CD and a Simply Red CD that I didn’t have. And I won’t even tell you what happens when I go to Quizno’s.

6. Al Sharpton is a black man without a purpose in life. I seriously believe that. Despite being on a talk show on TVOne gearted towards speaking on issues in a barbershop while NEVER getting one himself, he also manages to find time to just rail on shit for the sake of it. So goes his recent issues with everybody’s favorite piss’emoffer, Aaron McGruder, who caught flak from Sharpton (and I suppose the Black Crusaders who got Chappelle’s Show taken off the air…how many of you actually believed that Chappelle’s Show Theory shit?) about his MLK episode of The Boondocks. I swear, black people need to wake up. You say ANYTHING that even seems like it might cast a deified black person in a negative light (even if it isn’t negative AT ALL)(or even if you say anything negative about black people in a national forum), and somebody will jump on your back. I’ll listen to him when he gets rid of the perm. And find’s a job.

When’s the last time you saw two parenthetical statements back to back? Really…

7. I’d also like to add to that last statement that I often find it funny that in the black community, it is damn near offlimiits to say anything negative about black people when white people might hear it. And that is utter bullshit. I understand about not airing your dirty laundry, but it isn’t like it gets washed by black people during NAACP meetings, or Congressional Black Caucus conferences. I’ve been to both and there was no agenda to fix our problems. I guess somebody needs to put muhfucka’s on blast to get ANYBODY to even speak on the fact that some things in the black community are fucked and we have to fix it ourselves. We also need MacGuyver. And some duct tape.

8. D4L (the Laffy Taffy niggas) have a new video on MTV Jams, and it is downright the WORST fuckin’ song in history. The beat is rifuckin’diculously bad and sounds like somebody was randomly hitting nots on a keyboard and said, that’s hot. It barely even has a beat. It has now moved into first place, nudging Bone Thugs-N-Harmony featuring Phil Collin’s craptasticfestivus “Home” as the worst rap song ever created. And yes, this includes everything from Mase’s Double Up and Welcome Back albums. Where is Bush when you REALLY need him? He’s over there taking out Iraq and we have D4L here. Something is amiss in Washington.

9. Ice Cube used to be the scariest black man in America. NWA made music where they murdered millions, but Cube was speaking political stuff and for some reason, you believed he could move the masses into some sort of revolutionary thinking. However, he has a new album coming out with a lead single called “Child Support”. *sigh* It’s so horrible I can’t even think of any other adjectives to describe it. The beat is horrendously uberfucktastic and Cube rapping sounds like dogs fucking. Why won’t he just stop?

Umm…I love Los Angeles.

10. I know how folks from Brooklyn feel outside of New York when somebody yells “Is Brooklyn in the house?”. I was in a club in New York this weekend, and the DJ played a string of southern songs and I lost my mind. But when he played Big Boi’s “I Be On It (Kryptonite)”, it was a rap. There wasn’t a single person in that club who didn’t know what I was holding down. Folks actually stopped to look at me.

And I loved it.

You can find me in the A…A…A…A…

By the way, I’m a 26 year old educated black man. Thank you.

RIP Coretta Scott-King.