It’s been an extremely busy week at work. And yes, I’m aware that it’s only Tuesday. In fact, it’s so busy, I’m not even typing this right now, I’m borrowing my grandmother’s NS-5 robot right now who is begrudgingly typing out this entry whilst I enter thousands and thousands (literally) of numbers into Excel spreadsheets in hopes of giving your favorite lawmakers some idea of how good taxpayer money is being spent.

But, since me and Lenny Williams have so much in common, I decided to post something anyway. And to ice the cake Betty Crocker style, it’s going to be something personal. See, little do many of you know, Panama (that third person speaking oh so sexxy superfly smack that ass daddy mack that makes you want to jump) was something of a sports legend growing up. I played soccer, basketball, football (albeit for a very short time), ran track/indoor track, and cross country. Basically, during all the seasons, I was busy running around. Does this make me a legend? No…but this is my story.

And for those folks who are trying to figure out what me and Lenny Williams have in common, we both love you.

Well, since most people have played some sports at one time or another, hearing tales about the common sports isn’t so exciting. Who didn’t get knocked the fuck out one good time while playing football?? I know I did. Who didn’t their shot blocked so badly, they heard an entire gym say “Ooooooooooooh” only to be saved by the fat girl who very uneducatedly walked into the gym wearing a two piece purple jumpsuit, sparking one comedically inclined gentleman to yell out, “Hey Kooooooooool-Aid.”

Good times.

Today, I’m going to share some sports stories from my life involving other sports. Sports that aren’t so popular (actually a few of these are going to be popular sports, fuck you and goodnight)…and how I ended up leaving those sports alone permanently (or not).

Panama Jackson Presents…Fulton’s Follies Ain’t Got Shit On Mine-Sports 101

Panama Tries the 110 High Hurdles

I used to live in a townhome in Germany. Behind my home were more townhomes. Well, in the house directly behind mine was my friend Brant. Me and Brant were best buds. Well, as any 11 years old love to do, one Friday, we came up with the bright idea for me to spend the night at his house, which in 1990 was innocent, but in 2005 just sounded very fishy. My house had a backyard. I had to go thru my backyard and hop a fence to get to Brant’s house. So…I asked my parents, they said yes. Then I began my warm ups. I stretched. I ate a granola bar. They called my race to the starting line. I lined up (walked out my back door). I took off. I need to mention here that I didn’t actually start growing until I was in 11th grade. I was something like 4′11″ through 10th grade which means I couldn’t jump to save my life. So I’m running and in my excitement I decide to try something I’ve never done before…hurdle my fence. I believed I could do it. You can see where this is going.

Gravity and my white mother’s jumping ability disagreed. I leaped. Oh my goodness, the air up there was lovely. I could see the Alps and caught a breath of fresh air. I was on my way to winning the race until I realized that something had caught my foot and was trying to propel me back. Then I noticed…I caught my foot on the fence and in one forward motion went head first into the concrete sidewalk. Up. Down. Head. First. First round KO. When I finally came too I was upset because my mom said I couldn’t stay at Brant’s house since I had an extra head with eyes that winked at me growing out of my forehead.

I never tried the hurdles again. *sigh*

Panama Tries Miniature Golf

My real mother lives about an hour west of Detroit. Some summers when I was young, my little sister and I would stay with her. While she was at work, we used to stay with two kids (boy and girl) of one of her co-workers. One day, the parents all took us mini-golfing. The kids we used to stay with were baseball and softball players. They were really good too. Well, I tee up. I have the hole in my sights. A hole in one will win it for the team. (Actually, I have no idea which hole it was and its mini-golf, who cares?) I line up my shot by carefully and geometrically sizing up the clown and windmill. Then all of a sudden WHAP!!!

Nobody knew what happened but everybody saw me drop my club, scream, and take off running all around the mini-golf course like black people when they hear “Free food”. Seriously, I lapped the entire place in a good 30 seconds. I couldn’t stop screaming long enough to tell everybody that the young girl we were with had swung her golf club like a baseball bat for no reason whatsoever and connected for a home run with my right ear. She knew it, but she said nothing. Rat bastard. People thought I got stung by a bee. I felt like I got beat up Rodney King style…and this was before Rodney King was even Rodney King. I had a premonition. No lie, I screameded for 10 minutes straight.

To this day, I still suck at mini-golf because I always see the ghost of the Billy Club coming at me.

Panama Tries BASEketball

I’ve done some stupid things in my life, but this is by far the stupidest. Kids, do not do this at home. Never, ever, under any circumstance, try to play baseball with a basketball. You know why? I’ll tell you why. One day, whilst amongst my friends, I decided to attempt such dumbfuckery.

I threw a basketball in the air, and swung my metallic Louisville Slugger with all my might! I connected. I heard that I hit that ball far. The reason I heard it and didn’t see it, is because the recoil from hitting a rubber ball filled with air with all of my might forced the metal bat to bounce off of the ball back into my head knocking me the fuck out. Literally.

Dumb. Ass.

Panama Tries Parachuting (Kind Of)

It’s amazing I didn’t break my body doing this. But let’s just say me and my friends used to jump off of my garage onto a congrete parking lot to see who could do it and stay standing. Few were successful. Let’s just say this is where I learned a very valuable lesson. The reason you are supposed to bend your knees when you land is because if you don’t, it will feel like a swarm of locusts have crawled into your bones and began feasting on your bone marrow while watching re-runs of Animaniacs and the Emanuelle series on Skinemax. I thought I could feel my bones shatter as I stood there looking in terrifired horror at my 10 year old legs. I did the only conceivable thing I could of.

After the pain went away, did it again the right way. Only one of my friends actually broke any bones doing this. They’re both fine now. Luckily he was white so he had a promising future in business since he killed his sports career.

Panama Tries Baseball and The Javelin Throw Simultaneously

I learned how to play baseball early. I also learned that I sucked at baseball early. The reason was that for some reason, I just never wanted to hold the bat after I got a hit. I would swing the bat, hit the ball, and let the bat go at the same time. I did this so long that folks knew to get out of the way when I was batting.

Except that one little girl. Poor thing.

She never saw it coming. Yeah, I apologized for hurling a metal projectile at her unintentionally but our relationship was never the same.

Damn shame about those teeth though. *shudder*

Panama Tries Skateboard Parachuting (Kind Of)

When I was living in Germany, my friends were white. This means that they listened to Ice Cube, loved Jordan, and wanted to be professional basketball players. However, they were still white. So we used to come up with some totally stupid shit to do. Remember the garage we used to jump off of? Well that got boring after a good week…so we decided to skateboard off of it.

Oy vey.

Let’s just say that none of us could reach the top of this garage structure by jumping. It was about 11 feet high. Also, it’s important to be able to keep your feet on the board when jumping. If not, then you go out like my boy Mike…he was a champion though. He got out of the hospital in a good week. Luckily, he went first.

And cuz I’m getting bored, the last one…

Panama Tries BMX Biking Part 1

When I was very young, like 5, living in Michigan, I had older friends who would look after me while my mom was working or busy. One of these friends got me a juvenile record for shoplifting a little while later (apparently you can’t just take toys out of the store), but that’s neither here nor there. I had just learned how to ride my bike so it was time to learn how to jump. Kids, always keep your feet on the pedals or you’ll go out like me. Which means you’ll go out rolling all over the ground while your bike lands on top you and you scream like a little bitch…actually, that shit hurt. A lot. Just keep your feet on the pedals.

Panama Tries BMX Biking Part 2

In Germany, we lived near a major intersection. However one street which had a huge upward hill at the end of it, was like a huge playground for us. We’d skateboard and ride our bikes and race down the hill narrowly avoiding tragedy by turning onto a street right before the intersection. Well, one year for Christmas, my sister got a Blue Max. She didn’t ride it very much. And what does that mean kiddies? It means the brakes never got broken in.

Crystal ball anyone?

So, me being the Dan Danger I was, decided to take my sisters Blue Max down that hill, totally forgetting about the brakes. So I was riding down the hill and picking up speed. It was time to apply the brakes. OH SHIT!!! The brakes don’t work!!!! Quick…quick…what to do what to do!! Two options…1) I can just ride into traffic and hope I don’t get hit or I can do what I did, the third dumbest thing I’ve done in my life, option 2) stick my foot in the front part right above the wheel to stop the bike.

People, when you’re doing about 40 MPH going down a hill there is only one outcome. You are going to flip over the handelbars and land on the concrete, roll down the street and the bike is going to follow you and land on top of you at the bottom of said hill with the great thud! You will scream and you will way there until your older sister comes, picks you up and carries your screaming crying ass home for the asswhipping your father will bestow upon you.

It was written.

Sports are fun.

[*** Understanding: I just decided to take 20 minutes and type any and everything that was in my mind in a stream of conciousness type thing. I have no idea where I'm going, where I'll end up, or who will be sleeping next to me...OOPS...wrong show. This is something that you can try at home too folks. Just start typing and see where you end up. I'm sexxy. Thank you and Good night. ***]

You know, on nearly a daily basis I get asked what exactly is going on in my mind or in my mental rumblings and ramblings which are similar to rumblings except that ramblings involve boulders and pebbles who managed to find a way to totally screw up TLC’s career and wondered why her and LA Reid got divorced or separted like Avant did way back when folks actually thought he was worth listening to and purchased his first CD, though I can’t remember the name of it, I do remember it was bad like Michael Jackson in his prime, which wasn’t Optimus like, well, Optimus Prime but more prime like good APR on your credit, which often reminds me that I have always wondered why black folks have such shitty credt…

…especially since it seems like so many of us can’t get credit at all from the companies who pillaged our villages (that rhymed) and took us and shipped us across seas and countries (clearly I’m just making shit up right now…or am I), in fact, you’d think that every black person would be given some kind of interest free, payback free at least $50,000 credit card and all Native Americans shoudl get something like a free building in NYC…as in they should be able to pick any building that they want and make it their own…

DANDELIONS IN THE PARKING GARAGE…COMING SOON.

…tribute or something unlike some of the dumb shit we do on BET and shit like for real who thought that having John Legened, who can sing under normal circumstances, would do a good tribute to Luther who had such a smoother voice than Jimmy Saga and his Mighty Mouse-esquedness, think about that for a minute, he does look like a much taller almost as light skinneded version of Might Mouse, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing as I believe that Mighty Mouse probably got much ass on his watch since no mousewoman in her right mind would resist a superhero after he just saved a…

…family of Amish people like they have in Delaware and Holland, MI, where you can buy clogs like they really sell in Holland, Holland, as opposed to the writing combination of Motown geniuses, Holland-Dozier-Holland, who wrote some of the biggest songs for (why are their dandelions in the parking garage?) The Supremes and the Temptations and Leon Ware who clearly got bucked by Berry Gordy and gave a whole album to Marvin Gaye, mostly since Marvin Gaye sung WAY better than Leon Ware…wait you say you don’t really know who Leon Ware is do you which would be a damn shame since that man is responsible for a lot of big shit to include part of Quiny Jones catalog…

…do yo you realize that Quincy Jones has been around more than Tupac and Grace Jones, speaking of Grace Jones, Mike Jones is a serious sociological experiment wrapped up in a business marketing package and there should be case studies done on the ability to provide a less than quality product yet convince people it is really something that they need as long as you say the same shit OVER AND OVER again somehow they will start to believe and not get annoyed buy it and those that do get annoyed won’t buy it but the rest of us sheep will purchase the garbage that (I don’t know why there are dandelions in the parking garage…but they’re there…so really, why?) this marketing genius has laid out before the masses of mass that pervade and invade the motherland and Narnia, which I’m reading right now, the Chronicles that is, in anticipation of the movie The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, coming out on December 9….

…seriously you have no idea how excited I am for this movie to be coming out as its up there with…hmm…I can’t seem to think of any movie I’ve quite been as excited to see as opposed to maybe the Transformers movie when I was 6 and maybe (and this is a big maybe) Bambi when I was 3, however I can’t quite remember my anticipation level for either of those movies since I was but a wee lad at the time…I said wee…that’s funny and reminds of little pigs and gum drops buttons and Shrek since Gingy didn’t want Lord Farquad to steal his gum drop buttons, which I think he lost anyway but wasn’t nearly as good as Shrek 2 and the “Knights” interpolation of “Cops” which totally slayed me…

…kind of like ole St. Nicholas will do when he takes his sleigh (get it, “slay” “sleigh” i believe that’s a homonym) all around the world on December 24…you know I remember when E to da Widge said that Laguna Beach wasn’t a real show that I took it personal like somebody just told me the Easter Bunny (who scared the living shit out of me at age 4 adn I have the pictures to prove it since my parents put a life size Easter Bunny in my living room for me except the life size was like 5 feet tall and I was like 3 feet tall so I thought it was a robber) or Santa wasn’t real I just don’t understand why anybody would steal your joy like that besides being evil which is okay as long as you are okay with it much like I’m okay with Ice Cube’s older works were damn near totally ingenious which is why I’ve been bumping both AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted and Death Certificate like I have no choice and those are some great ass albums, no lie…who do you believe in?

What was I talking about again?

[*** This is long, otherwise known as a Panama-length post. I'm sexxy. ***]

“I ain’t no criminal motherfucker, I can read.” -Doughboy (as played by Ice Cube) in Boyz ‘N Da Hood

I always thought that was a funny line, mostly because it was said at a party, celebrating his return from jail…

…where criminals are.

*rimshot*

If you remember, a while ago I provided a guide for all of the gangsters out there (clearly not those reading this right now) who wanted to know how to go grocery shopping but just didn’t have the faintest clue where to start. You know, gangstas are often placed in the most precarious of situations. For instance, gangstas are regular people just like me and you. However, they are prone to thuggery and must maintain a certain public facade in order to retain the respect and admiration or fear that comes along with being that nigga that shanked a few folks back in Sing Sing or Angola or on the corner for stepping on their sneakers or looking at their Slim Jim too hard. In fact, often times, all gangstas have is respect, with lack of respect being the leading killer of black men between the ages of 15 and 34.

You see, it has been said that men cry in the dark. If you’re a gangsta, this is not in your best interest. In fact, you are usually only allowed to cry at home with your gangsta bitch before the funeral of your boy who was “holding it down” (like gravity). Crying is not in the G-code. Neither is the letter “B”.

Well, within this precariosity that gangstas find themselves engulfed, often times the simple things that us regular black folks can do and not be ridiculed for aren’t within their grasp. Seriously, if you saw a so-called gangsta doing any number of things his credibility would become totally suspect. Gangsta’s shouldn’t smile too much unless talking about drug proceeds or bitches and guns. Shows of affection in public are against the code. In fact, being a gangsta is much like being an athlete. Things that happen in the locker room that might be considered gay to the outside world are sometimes okay, like crying, hugging half-naked, or doing very feminine dances to celebrate victory. Then again, everybody there understands that everybody there is a gangsta therefore posing is unnecessary. Except when respect comes into play, which as we know by now…

…is the number of killer of black males between the ages of 15 and 34.

I have much respect for the plight of the gangsta. Not because I am one. Heavens no. I’m merely the most gangsta sexxy nigga this side of the computer screen. The mere fact that I’m sitting in front of a computer screen between the hours of 9 and 530pm means two things, 1) I can read; and 2) I’m employed. This takes me clear out of contention for “real” gangsta. However, I have realized that it is important to help those whose life has been made harder by their choices. Gangstas want to do shit that us regular black menses do…like skateboard, smile, not scare the bejesus out of white people (though this has proven that even the most educated niggas get a kick out of scaring white people), bake cookies, discuss current events (and I don’t mean the latest murder statistics), have good credit, hmm…have credit, be able to walk into an expensive store and not be treated like a criminal…hmmm, may have to rethink that one, wear suits, leave their neighborhoods and jog along a beach in some random state (wait, that was in Get Rich Or Die Tryin’), eat truffles in public, etc. I think you get the point.

Not being a gangsta also allows me to do something that many gangstas wish upon stars to be able to do without fear or repercusion…

…get an education and actually enjoy it.

So today, after that long ass introduction, I’m going to give you all a tool to take back to your random ‘hoods or ‘hood family members in projects nationwide so that they too can find a way to get the education they desire without being looked at as suspect by their peers thereby causing their respect and credibility to be tarnished forver because they were carrying around C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia or can count.

Hmm…you know, as much as we fear education in the black community, we sure do love to make fun of niggas for being stupid. It’s the ultimate catch 22. It’s not cool to learn, but it’s not cool to be stupid as shit either. Amazing conundrums we like to quagmire ourselves into, isn’t it? Because really, NOBODY wants to be this nigga:

“1, 2, 4, 5…I can count too. Countin’ these rocks beeeyotch!” -Chris Rock, Bring The Pain, 1996

It is in effect, not a good look.

Ladies and gentlemen, Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises Presents…The Gangsta’s Guide To Gettin’ An Ejukasion: Learnin’ to Drive-By Too

Are you a gangsta? Is Tupac one of your idols? Do you slap fools just for living and snuff nuns with guns? Are you the hardest nigga on your block, or mayhaps the meanest mofo low down around this town? You are…wonderful! Let me ask you another question. Do you have books? Don’t look at me like that and please sir, put the .357 down. I’ll ask again. Do you like books…and can you read? It’s okay, you can tell me. You can can’t you? No, nobody’s watching. What’s that you say? You like reading? WHOA…slow down on the Zane homeboy. I don’t even like him. Son, I know its hard to be smart in the ‘hood, but I’ve come up with a way for you to get yo’ learn on, and still maintain that gangsta exterior you’ve worked so hard for.

You want to know how? Have a seat youngster as I take you through the means for you to be at school, pretend to not learn anything but really soak up some information that can help you become one of the guys in jail who turns their life around and makes a difference to thousands of men around him. Kind of like Stanley “Tookie” Williams. WHOA…I’m not a Crip son, be easy. You calm? Okay, let us begin.

We’ll discuss a few things common to education and exactly how you can cover up your own learning so that no kids or old people will be any the wiser that you have indeed been infiltrated by the best that public school education can provide. Let’s begin.

For the record, these are things you will be doing at school. You must attend school since that keeps the Feds off of your tail. This works good for stories since you can tell your fellow students who are afraid of you that you’re just trying to lay low by being at school. And always sit in the back and only answer when called upon. It bequeaths (I know it ain’t the right word, thank you) you to get an answer right every now and then, that way they don’t kick you out.

I’d also recommend that you discuss your plans for fake-me-out education with your teachers. They might understand. That way, nobody has to get their cover blown. And you can manage to graduate at the top of your class like you would have if you weren’t so got damn dumb.

1) Reading

This is one of the most ungangsta things that anybody can do. However, there is a loophole. You see, Tupac has become the stuff of legends. This bodes well for the gangstas since he is often mis-represented as the quintessential thug. Thus, it is okay to read about Tupac. I suggest getting one Tupac book with a slipcover and use that slip cover over any other book you might want to read. That way, nobody will realize that you are actually reading any other books AND you get the added bonus of looking dumb since niggas will think that you have been reading the same book for years. It’s the best of both worlds, minus the R. Kelly sex tape and mace scandal in New York City.

2) Writing

Now, being a poet is not very gangsta. In fact, it can be quite gay in the ‘hood. However, there is a way around this as well. You see, what are rappers? They are nothing but pissed off poets. If you want to write poetry or short stories you have two options. Either you disguise it all as you being an aspiring rapper who plans on letting them bitch ass niggas know what’s up, or you are gonna write a movie and put all of your niggas in it. Since the hood is full of broken dreams and crack vials, you never actually have to finish anything or become successful at it. You can keep on writing in peace and nobody will ever have to know.

3) Math

Ahh, the crowd favorite. Math is tricky, because once you start getting into classes that are usually filled with white people, your cover could be blown. However, since you will probably be in the inner city somewhere, it matters not. Thus, you can just tell your peers that you’re being promoted so they can get you out and that you “ain’t learnin’ no shit like Algebra!” However, they might not believe you. So, my suggestion is this. Tell me about the birds you flip in the hood and that you are only learning this shit to help you become a better dopeman. Algebra can be used to help you determine how much money you can make per brick, how many people need to be served, etc. It’s all used for making that money in the ‘hood. Counting rocks, baggies, and vials is much easier if you have the fundamentals of algebra down.

4) Chemistry

This is an extension of math. You are only in there to learn how to cut up that raw uncut. You are interested in new ways to get the most for your product. How to cut and mix the raw properly. It’s a stretch, but if you are convincing enough, nobody will test your gangsta.

5) Physics

This one is really a stretch. You are only here to determine how quickly people can move from point A to point B, with certain amount of weight on them, with certain amounts of time. We’re talking velocity, distance, mass. You are only here because you realize the job ahead of you is no easy task therefore you must factor in hills, gravity, etc. Like I said its a stretch, but if they learned anything in Physics, the other kids would know you are talking about “work” here. And I mean the actual physical definition of work…which is what you are putting in down in the ‘hood. They should be able to see the correlation and then feel like they are gangsta’s too.

[***Sidenote: For the past few years, I have taught or TA'd classes in the summer to rising college seniors in Statistics and Economics. Well, this past year, in one of my TA sessions I was giving an example to the class on supply and demand and I haphazardly mentioned the term "brick". Well, all the white students and a few of the black students questioned me as to what a brick was. I'm not proud of this, but I led them thru a 15 minute impromptu tutorial on drug slang and distribution practices. It was a sad moment in the history of black male teachers. I was amazed though at how fascinated they were, though I'm not sure if it was because they were trying to figure out how I knew what I knew (which I just blamed on rap) or because they were all druggies who were learning about their own hobbies. ***]

6) Music

Everybody wants to be a rapper nowadays, especially in the hood. Rappers need music. Pretend that you are trying to become a music producer for the rappers in the hood and you are interested in making that dope shit. This is one is very easy.

7) English

It’s hard to explain to people why you are so interested in gerunds and good grammar. Especially when you probably are acting like you can’t speak anyway. However, remind them of your impending rap status and that you just want to make sure that you are ahead of the game. This one is not going to work.

Shoot somebody.

History

This one is also easy. You see, learning dates and shit is fun for hood niggas. You can use those to tell the story of why your hood is the realest. You are only learning dates in school to compare and talk about how bitchmade American history is compared to your hood where niggas been at war since the Jordan Incident of 1988. Fuck a Battle at Bunker Hill, what they know about the Battle at JoJo’s House??? Nothing, that’s what.

9) Geography

You are only here to learn more about how to cover the terrains of the enemy. In fact, geography is all about the enemy. If you know the enemy’s land, you can overtake him. Tell your bum ass peers at school that if they aren’t careful you’ll get to learning their lands to take their cattle. Cattle? Yes cattle. If they ain’t careful, you gonna scout out their homestead, show up, and shoot that fat heiffer they call mom in their driveway.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!

10) Life Skills

Fuck this class, niggas in the hood are lucky to make it to 21 anyway. Lucky you, you’ll get sent upstate at 18 anyway.

Upstate to college.

If you follow these steps you too can learn and get an education despite your hood-ness. It is in your grasp. And in case any of this bothers you, just make sure to have a gun on you at all times. That will let the niggas in the hood know you ain’t frontin, your peers at school know you ain’t frontin…

…and your new jail buddies know that you were hard. And there, you can read all the books you want.

Because, lo and behold, criminals can read.

“I gooooooooot a feeling/I goooooooooooot a feeling brooooooooootha/I goooooooooooot a feeling…somebody’s fuckin’ with Panama Jack/and I ain’t having no shit like that….”

Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the days of old. You see, we here at Jackson G. Tickle, aha, have come to realize that there is a bitch nigga, aha, on the premises, aha.

Bitch niggas…aha…are those niggas who do what they ain’t supposed to do and make you do those things that you don’t want to do, aha, but are forced to do because you just have to do what you came to do. Aha. In fact, you do it like you’re doing it for tv…aha.

Can I get an amen??

Amen.

Before we get to the reason for this mornin’s sermon however, let me tell you a little something about myself AKA The Smooth Silky Killer Sexxy Most Muhfuckin’ Nigga You Have Come To Know And Love, Panama Jackson.

He is I, and I am him…slim with the tilted brim.

You see, I’m an arrogant fellow. Some have even called me conceited from time to time. Cocky and a little bit trigger happy at the same time. Some might even call it a bit of narcissism.

Well!

What this all means is that I like to Google myself. I do it all the time. I’d say at least once or twice a week. Now, this comes as a result of two things. Would you like to know what those two things are??

*Yes!!! Bumaya Panama! Bumaya Panama!*

For one, since I started writing for Allhiphop.com, some of my posts show up on message boards and shit. So I like to go see what folks are saying about what I have to say. Narcissist remember? And, the debator in me likes to argue with people. The second reason? Somebody’s stolen a post or two of mine before. So just to see what’s going on in the Adventures of Panama Jackson, I tend to just check and snoop around the net. Plus, I got the flyest internet stalker in the game on my squad. Usually all bases are covered.

Hmm…I saw 50 Cent’s movie this weekend, you may have heard of him. He is the bullet riddled, water owning, book publishing, MTV owning, Interscoping, rapper-come-singer that has brought his beef and steak to the forefront of pop culture. I actually enjoyed the movie. 50 isn’t the best actor in the world. Hell, he isn’t even number 2, but the movie was entertaining, I saw Joy Bryant nearly naked, and it had some seriously funny parts. Makes for a lovely viewing experience.

What does this have to do with anything, oh wise Panama? Well, 50 is known for putting his beef’s on blast for the world to see. Many people feel like if somebody is beneath you or not on your level, you should just leave it alone and let them wallow in their own self-pity and loneliness. Basically, why make somebody famous that nobody cares about? That is a very good philosophy in life. Folks who do not deserve 15 minutes of fame, shouldn’t have it if it isn’t by their own merits.

I’m with 50, fuck that. I don’t mind ridiculing the fuck out of an ignorant fucker who deserves, especially, if they’ve come fuckin’ around with the kid.

The Kid=Panama Jackson.

Me.

Speaking of 50 Cent’s movie, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (you may have heard of it), Terrance Howard had a line in there that was funny and confusing as the fuck. It’s one of my new favorites. Allow me to share.

“Shoot first, then ask questions, because If I’m right then I’m right, but if I’m wrong, I might have been right, so I’m right because I could have been wrong.” Or some variation of that.

Depth, my people. Grand Canyon-esque depth.

I see you getting impatient and wondering just what in the hell I’m getting at…well, I’m gonna learn you.

It seems that a bitch nigga has decided that jacking not one, not two, but somewhere in the neighborhood of five or six of my posts was in his best interests. Yes, dumb niggas are running rampant, not even changing titles or removing my name from the entire posts. Yes, one dumb nigga EVEN jacked my 100 Things about myself list and called it…THE PANAMA JACKSON EDITION. What kind of dumb fuck’s dumb fuck does that? And it would be one thing if it was some kind of tribute to me…Lord knows I deserve it, however, in some posts, he’s even got new pictures to replace the ones I used, or changed conversations to include his name and remove mine.

Ladies and gentleman…THIS DUMB NIGGA EVEN TOOK MY MOST IGNANT BLACK PERSON IN AMERICA PAGEANT and used it as if it was his own creation.

And he’s stolen some of your posts too.

How do I know this??

Because I read all or you shit and I know Leon’s shit when I read it…or Brutha Code’s shit when I read it.

Which begs another question…what kind of dumb nigga steals BRUTHA CODE’S SHIT??? The most popular ignorant nigga on the net??? You’re gonna steal his shit???

Education is at an all time low in this country.

Without further ado, ladies and gentleman, I deliver you, Ignant Bitch Nigga #1: DCLandRover!!!

*claps and cheers and jeers and bitchslaps*

DC Land Rover…come on down!!!

*Price Is Right Theme Song playing loudly in the background*

Now, it’s not fair to call somebody the fuck out as stealing folks shit without proof.

You want proof?? Now you got some!!

Let’s start with how I ended up at this nigga’s shit in the first place…oh yes, you know that already, I googled myself and found that my post on Mase had ended up on somebody else’s site. No biggie…shit happens. But don’t let me find out you…oh shit, this nigga really did…get the fuck out…he JACKED it.

For instance…take a gander at a post that looks eerily similar to mine with a few stark differences.

St. Peter: The Gates Record-Times calls up Rover for possible entry into the Pearly Gates. Let’s take a look at your rec…good God, did you really use the word nigga 4.5*10^Infinity times? Is this a typo? Hell, er, I mean, hutzpah, is that even possible?? Wait…son, tell me you didn’t really say that all ugly short people must be nice or they should be fed to Rosie O’Donnell or Oprah, whichever one isn’t dieting this week…HOLY SHI…I mean Santu Santu, umm…. Oh HELL NAW…you DID NOT SAY THAT OJ IS INNOCENT!!!!

Prayin’ Rover:: No more than you guys about that whole sending Pat Robertson to do “God’s work”. Wait wait…can I take that back?? I want a do-over!

Prayin’ Rover huh? Just gonna take my steez and put your name where it fits huh. But forget to take my name out of the shit at the end of the post where I use my own name???

Just to see how possibly fucked up this cat could be, I hit up the archives…call it boredom.

And for the record, I’m not even mad, I think this nigga is funny…sloppy, but funny.

Rule#1 for Cheating: DON’T GET CAUGHT. Make sure when stealing people’s shit, it cannot be traced back to them, especially by means as easy as GOOGLE.

Dumb ass.

From the archives. Vanna, turn over the rest of the evidence please.

Apparently, whilst I and my esteemd panel of experts were polishing off our tournament, this nigga was holding his very own. And here I thought that Jackson G. Tickle (that’s my company) had an original idea, apparently, DC Land Rover Enterprises was holding its own. And for the record, I’m not making that last part up. He was holding the same tourney courtesy of DC Land Rover Enterprises. Take a gander.

Or jacking my BET Post…

Please see: Never Thought I’d See The Day from June 2004

Or jacking my Federal Government post…

Please see: You Don’t See What I See from June 2004

Or jacking personal stories from MY OWN LIFE posts…

Please see: Old Time Killin’ From June 2004

Or jacking my…well you get the point by now. I really could go on. You can just check this nigga’s archives to see the rest.

Or old posts of Brutha Codes about the Saditty Code…

Or Leon’s post about beating the “monkey shine shit” out of a cat…

And the absolute dumbest one is this…he took my damn 100 Things List that I called, Black History Month: These Are My Confessions. And he called it?? Black History Month: These Are My Confessions, except he narrowed it down to 5 Things About Him (which were actually the first 5 things about me) and called it the Panama Jackson Edition. I’m more or less confused about that one, but what the fuck, I don’t care at this point, its a crime…stupid is as stupid does. I’m not sure if that’s his picture or not but, er umm…fuck it, no point in discussing that any further.

I didn’t feel like diggin’ thru the archives of Brutha Code or Leon, but I’m sure those posts belong to them.

I remember a while back, some broad on Xanga stole one of my posts and I was emailed about it because apparently enough folks read her posts, and are black, that the shit would get back to me. In fact, Kajuana emailed me to let me know that I was being hijacked. Back then…

..the didn’t want me…

…now they really don’t want it.

Ignorant bitch niggas deserve to be put on blast. I can’t just sit around and let those individuals slide, can I? What kind of person would I be if I didn’t get them the hits that they were looking for by stealing posts. Clearly, they were taking shit that they assumed would provide them some readership. DC Land Rover, fuck you, and here goes your new audience.

Here’s what he wants you to know about his site:

The official rant site, created and maintained by a young man with passionate opinions and questions about life, love and the pursuit of happiness. My manties are in a bunch, and I’m pissed about something. It is very important that you have an open mind upon reading the content of this journal.

It is also important that you have good post handy so he can use them to create his own interesting blog.

Ladies and gentleman, please enjoy DCLandRover’s site. He would very much like for you to peer into his world. Just make sure that when you do…you aren’t looking back at yourself.

DCLandRover, you’re 15 minutes are now ticking away.

“Yall niggas gonna learn to respect the king…don’t be the next contestant over at JGT…”

Every now and then its time to share random thoughts, and what better day then today when I really just don’t feel like getting into the deep dark depths of my mind. Actually, I never really delve that deeply. Usually, I merely dictate any diatribe that dust so happens to appear in one of my brain cavities.

Always floss kiddies, always floss.

Yes, I actually meant to write “dust” up there since I couldn’t write “just”.

Literary license and I am Panama Jackson. I can do somethings that others just wouldn’t even think to do.

Plus, I’m sexxy.

So, onto the random thoughts…

-I’m staying in DC for Thanksgiving because airline tickets are a bitch and a doe. Luckily, I have friends who’s family is something like my family so I have somewhere to go. However, I really would rather be in Atlanta right now. And by right now, I mean right now. I don’t like DC that much.

-But…surprisingly, this weekend I went to a party that was largely attended by the actual reading black population of DC. Attractive women, men with jobs, white people…I’m telling you, this will be written about in the future.

You have no idea how amazed I was at the collection of people at this party. We’re talking surprised like seeing King Kong on the top of the Empire State Building.

In real life.

-I’ve been listening to Nirvana’s album Nevermind a lot lately. Everybody already knows the impact that Nirvana had on the grunge game and I don’t think there’s a person alive, regardless of race (or irregardless if you’re more comfortable with that assbackwards word), who doesn’t like “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. However, what the fuck was Kurt Cobain talking about on some of these songs? Either I’m way to black to understand or he was really just high as the fuck when writing this shit. For instance, one of my favorite songs is “Something In The Way.” On this song he tells us that “it’s okay to eat the fish/because they don’t have any feet.” Hmmm…what does this have to do with anything? Should we eat the fish because they can’t run?

I believe that somewhere in Kurt Cobain’s lyrics lies the keys to the universe. Ambiguously ridiculous enough for people to try to find meaning in them, but more than likely, totally non-sensical cocaine-induced lyricism. Either way, white people believe in him so who am I to question his lyrics. They just make good music.

-Speaking of good music, that damn Kanye managed to surprise me a lot. He just released the video for “Heard ‘Em Say” and though it isn’t the best video he’s done, its a different ass video. It’s all black and white animation. It’s like A-Ha’s “Take On Me” meets your kindergarten nephew’s best drawings.

-Speaking of animation, the movie Fat Albert has been on HBO everyday for the past two or three weeks. I think I’ve watched it everyday for the past two or three weeks. Literally. For some reason, I really like this movie. Them damn characters crack me up. Okay, I’m only watching for Dania Ramirez, my new favorite Dominican. Fret not Christina Milian, she hasn’t taken your place. Dania Ramirez was also the FINE ASS girlfriend of Kerry Washington (one of the participants in our October Madness Tourney) in the godawful, but highly entertaining movie She Hate Me. I wanted to jump her bones with a broom and some jacks. Aside from her, the movie really is fun. I’ll probably watch it a few dozen more times then go buy it on DVD…or divda, as they called it in the movie.

-Do you realize that when I like something, I’m really dedicated to it? Fat Albert, about 15 times in the past few weeks, and I had Nirvana’s song “Something In The Way” on repeat all day yesterday. From 930am until I left at 545pm. Word to the wise, if I believe in you, I’ll go hard. If not, die.

-Speaking of Christina Milian (well we were anyway), apparently her and Nick Cannon have split up. I kind of thought she was out of his league anyway. Only because he tries so damn hard. Between him and Ray J, they should have a contest to see who tries harder to be somebody. I’d wager on Ray J to take the crown. And I’m admittedly a fan of Ray J, but I can call a spade a spade. Nick Cannon just hasn’t warmed up to me. I did hear that his show was pretty good, but I never caught a single episode. That fucker stole my former woman, Christina Milian. Plus he seemed way to excited to be in the “Disco Inferno” video with 50 Cent.

Yeah, he was hanging out with 50.

-Just randomly, I was told yesterday that I have a current type. Using Hollywood women as the proxy, the women listed as my type were: Christina Milian, Dania Ramirez, Zoe Saldana, Rosario Dawson, and Claudette Ortiz. Hmm…notice anything about them all?? Yep, they all have Latino last names. My type is women with Latino last names apparently.

(I’m so dumb.)

-Let’s talk about 50 for a second. So…we’ve all seen the picture by now right? I want to know who’s dumb ass signed off on that picture to be used. I’d also like to know what the fuck 50 was thinking by taking that ubergay ass picture. There is no other word that can possibly be used to describe said picture…gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But how do you proclaim to be the hardest nigga in the game and then take a picture that makes Richard Simmons look like a gangsta? Seriously, that is the gayest picture I’ve seen in two years, ESPECIALLY given the subject. Ginuwine? Yeah he could do that…he’s kind of gay anyway. Plus, that looks like something an ambiguously gay guy who makes music for women would do. See also: John Legend, Carl Thomas, Johnny Gill, Ron Artest, etc.

But 50?? You just undermined every record you ever put out. Ole pussy ass picture…ON THE COVER OF GQ!!!

-The Boondocks television show has finally premiered and its on its 4th week. I wasn’t so excited after the first week, but episodes 2 and 3 have totally won me over. The Trial of R. Kelly was one of the funnier moments in TV in the past few years. And the attempt at Granddad to turn a hoe into a housewife and Money Mike showing up? Well, you just can’t deny the comedy. It even made me look past the fact that Regina King voicing Huey and Riley made me want to brand ants with a hotcomb and a nameplate that says “Guggenheim.”

-Some folks are offended by the show’s constant use of the word “nigga”. You know, I’m torn on this one. Mostly because I don’t care which could be partly because I use the word nigga almost niggardly. Which doesn’t fit there, but fuck you. I don’t care about white people seeing the use and thinking its okay either. Fuck ‘em. Watching the Boondocks isn’t going to make any white person say nigga. The child argument…eh…I wonder how many kids actually read the Boondocks anyway and would watch? I know grown ass reading black folks who don’t even read the Boondocks. Aaron McGruder is a college educated satirist, that takes him clear off the radar of random niggas. So like I said, I’m torn. The use fits the show, its satire, and further its comedy. They talk like me.

-I’m realizing that white people aren’t scare of the same things black people are scared of…like black people. White people are scared of lawsuits and bad credit. I’m telling you, I’ve seen more whte people in my neighborhood than a little bit. I swear, they just walk and chill at 2am like they own the place.

Well…

Still, I’ve always found it funny that in neighborhoods that are going to change back to white neighborhoods, whilst still in ghetto mode, the white folks just frolick and play like its safe. Whereas I’m ducking and hiding behind trash cans and shit hiding from niggas, the white people just walk their dogs and sit outside and laugh and shit. That is actually more scary than niggas. White people have no fear.

-You know who else has no fear?

-I was driving near my home in DC the other day and I stumbled upon a section that I had no idea existed. I damn near crashed into a tree because I was in sheer amazement. I found a traffic circle in a neighborhood that used to be “the” place for wealthy black people. In DC, back in the early 1900’s and shit, Ledroit Park was where the black folks used to live who had money…you know, once the white people left. There is no point to this one except to say that I was surprised….and slighly in awe and excited.

-I’m a history and a geography person. I’ll stare at maps for days. You want to get in good with me? Buy me an Atlas. I’ll love you for life.

-I just say Jodeci’s old video for “Lately” that they fillmed at the MTV Unplugged thing they did in like 91 or someshit. K-Ci and JoJo are some ugly niggas. Period.

-Terrell Owens is the dumbest nigga ever.

-Speaking of dumb niggas, The 2nd Annual Jackson G. Tickle Most Ignant Black Person In America Pageant is taking nominations. We’re looking to air it on WJGT-TV in January much like last year. Thus far, the easy targets are 50 Cent (I mean really…he is walking ignorance) and I’m adding Terrell Owens to the list for his antics. I’d add Drew Rosenhaus just off GP for being the jackass he is, but he’s not black. He might need an honorary pass though just to get into the tourney.

Either way, I’m taking nominations for the most ignant black person from this past year. I need help.

-Bumaye Panama!

-Fuck it…I’m done.

Happy Thanksgiving!! Avoid the avian bird flu and drink lots of Red Kool-Aid. Even you white people…KOOL AID IS GOOD FOR YOU!!!

One of the most poignant lines in all of American history was uttered by one Forrest Forrest Gump in the movie, Forrest Gump.

“Stupid is as stupid does, momma always said.”

This is going to sound uber-judgemental, but fuck it…some people are just damn dumb.

Now, when discussing dumb versus stupid versus smart versus intelligent, it’s important to note the subtle differences between the words. For this arduous task, I did what any internet savy individual would do…went to dictionary.com. It would see that they’ve already thought about this quandry and quite clearly laid out the differences in the so called “intelligent” realm. Gander?

Synonyms for smart: intelligent, bright, brilliant, knowing, quick-witted, smart, intellectual
These adjectives mean having or showing mental keenness. Intelligent usually implies the ability to cope with new problems and to use the power of reasoning and inference effectively: The intelligent math students excelled in calculus. Bright implies quickness or ease in learning: The bright child learned the alphabet quickly. Brilliant suggests unusually impressive mental acuteness: ‚ÄúThe dullard’s envy of brilliant men is always assuaged by the suspicion that they will come to a bad end‚Äù (Max Beerbohm). Knowing implies the possession of knowledge, information, or understanding: Knowing collectors bought all the auctioned paintings. Quick-witted suggests mental alertness and prompt response: The quick-witted emergency medical staff averted a tragedy. Smart refers to quick intelligence and often a ready capability for taking care of one’s own interests: Smart lawyers can effectively manipulate juries. Intellectual implies the capacity to grasp difficult or abstract concepts: Dinner at the philosopher’s house was noted for its intellectual conversations.

They sure are some geniuses aren’t they? Wait, they didn’t define that. Dammit.

Now, apparently dumb and stupid are pretty much synonymous. Both tend to mean, lacking intelligence or slow to learn. That was simple now wasn’t it?

So what’s the point of all of these definitions? Well one day, whilst sipping a Long Island Iced Tea, shaken not stirred, sans straw, I had an epiphany…a revelation even. You see it dawned on me that, well…some people are just dumb, and despite our best efforts to the deny the evident, will remain thusly. Now this is not an attack on idiots out there. Heavens no, this is intended for those individuals who have a hard time accepting such simple facts that some motherfuckers are just damn dumb.

For instance, I don’t care how educated a person is, it is possible for said person to just be un-intelligent. Sure, they may have read plenty of books and if you use the name Tolstoy, they won’t give you a besmirching face that illustrates they have no idea of whom you’re referring. But this same jackass will be the first to make a racially insensitive or gender insensitive…hell just a plain insensitive comment with little regard to its consequences. We sometimes refer to this as common sense versus book smarts. it is entirely possible to be filled with one and not the other.

In undergrad, I was exposed to somethings that really opened up my eyes to life. I saw rich black people. Lots of them. I went to school with the sons and daughters of millionaires. Some of these were detached, socially don’t-have-a-fucking-clue individuals who could recite to you every important date in American, European, and Penguin history, but couldn’t figure out that when washing clothes, it is important to separate the whites from the coloreds. I’m not saying these folks are dumb, just unexposed. However, if when exposed to reality, they maintain this inability to do for self…I’m pulling the dumb card.

Since I went to a historically black college for undergrad, I was mostly exposed to just class insensitivity and general dumbfuckedness like in the example above. However, graduate school at a major state university exposed me to the rest making me realize that people can be just damn dumb. For instance, a young white girl once told me and another of my friends in the program that if the black students wanted to have a bake sale, we should bake some chicken since that’s what we’re good at. I would call her just ignorant (I did call her an asshole), but she’s been exposed to black people long enough in life to know a dumb ass statement when she made one. Smart as a whip, but if I used that terminology to her, she’d probably make some mention of slavery and I’d have to kill her. This same young lady also stated, very confidently in one of my classes, that racism does not exist.

Dumbness however does.

Thus brings me to my point. Some people cannot put the square peg into the square hole, no matter how much teaching we provide them. Some people are incapable of figuring out that if you do not pay your bills on time, you might get royally fucked by creditors. I think its time we stopped acting like everybody had the ability to be smart. It just isn’t possible. Everybody isn’t intelligent, and everybody cannot use smarts to forward their lot in life. Common sense is not as common as it would seem it should be.

Speaking of intelligent, I actually had a woman tell me once in life that she wasn’t sure if I was an intellectual (see implied definition above) or not. This of course assumes that she is an intellectual, for in order to determine that somebody else may or may not be an intellectual, one must first determine that they are indeed intellectual. Apparently she was able to grasp the concept of the 4th dimension and vector space.

You see, that’s dumb.

Calling yourself an intellectual is akin to telling people that you are indeed smart. It reeks of a need for validation and what ends up happening is that the very people you are speaking to will undoubtedly scrutinize your every word and challenge you to see if you are indeed intellectual. Especially if you tell somebody that you aren’t sure if they are intellectual.

Me, I’m a bad person. I just assumed she was dumb.

This furthers my point. If folks tend to do and say dumb shit often, chances are, they just aren’t that sharp. Regardless of how much education they have, or how smart they seem, if you do dumb shit, you are indeed dumb.

Caller: So what are you getting at here? It would seem that you are just rambling and talking for no good reason.

Well, this is just damn dumb.

Song About Picking Cottong Pulled From School Concert (originally heard on the Russ Parr show and again via the a.n.d.y. of The Royal Youngs)

The principal, teachers, advisors, and anybody else who thought that in 2005, having a predominantly white choir sing a song about picking cotton, in a school concert…

…are all just damn dumb.

The fact that it got past the choir teachers, that the principal okay’d it, and that they seriously felt that that there was nothing wrong or that even the possibility for offense was absent…

…damn dumb.

Political correctness is at an all time high. People shuck and jive all the livelong day in attempts to not offend random ethnic groups of people. That’s all well and good, and largely idiotic in its own right, but stupid is as stupid does. It takes a special breed of dumb to not realize that hmmm, maybe, a song about picking cotton, for which the words “pick a bale of cotton” are in the title, just might not be the right choice for a bunch of little white kids AND ONE BLACK KID to sing at a concert for the masses. I know the NAACP is damn near obsolete nowadays, but they just sit around waiting for shit like this to fall into their laps.

Damn dumb.

The fact that the parent of the black child took his concerns to the school and they were dismissed further proves how damn dumb even the “smartest” people are. How do you dismiss a black man’s concerns about having white kids and his kids singing songs directly related to slavery? Sore spot anyone? It ain’t like they were singing “Wade In The Water”. No…they’re singing, “pick a bale of cotton.” A lighthearted fun song about the slave trade’s biggest product.

Got damn dumb.

A lot of time we assume that education makes you smart. That is wrong. Even the “smartest” people do some just damn dumb shit.

Ice Cube wrote a song called “Doin’ Dumb Shit”.

These “educators” are the living proof of it.

They are in effect, just damn dumb.

And I’m not talking about the football team either.

I’m an unapologetic, unashamed fan of the MTV show Laguna Beach. There is nothing like watching a bunch of rich white kids struggle through a life where money is not an issue. I watch it mostly for two reasons. First, I watch it because the show is just downright entertaining to me and to count the number of times that the word “like” is used per episode. For instance, many sentences uttered on the show sound like this: “Jess, like, I can’t like believe you still like, like, like, Jason, like, especially, like, you know what kind of playboy, like, he, like, is…like, like, like.” It is annoying at first, but the next thing you know, like, you’re using it just as much as they, like, are.

Secondly, I watch because this show is giving you a window into the lives of the kids who will one day be running the country. They’re already the kids of rich, like, well-connected parents. Who’s to say that these kids won’t be running for office one day or running the companies that provide the services that we need that are, like, in bed with politicians? It’s proof positive that being rich (being white helps) is all you need to make it, not common sense, personality, or book smarts. Rich, white, and attractive can take you anywhere you want to go in life.

Attractive also means being unfat by the way. There are no fat kids on cast at Laguna.

Oh, and thirdly, I love LC. A lot.

Kristin can kiss my ass.

WHO WANT IT?!?!?!!!!

One thing I noticed about my beloved cast members of Laguna Beach is that these little fuckers have a ridiculous amount of leeway and freedom to come and go as they please. I know there is, like, major editage going on in the show but the, like, parents only show up at major events, like graduation and fashion shows, and the rest of the times, the kids are just out running amuck, like, amongst themselves. I had lenient parents in high school, though it wasn’t by their choice sometimes. We just kept pushing the limits until they broke. But I’ll be damned if there are certain things that my parents just wouldn’t allow. We got to stay out late, but don’t be up in your bedroom with your girl/boyfriend with the door closed. That door must remain open at all times or you’d feel the wrath of Khan.

Not on Laguna Beach, on Laguna Beach these kids take their boy/girlfriends to other houses and do one thing…

…head straight for the hot tub.

These kids, unsupervised (and being as big as their houses are, there parents might not even know they’re home), are just hugging, kissing, touching, and I’m assuming fucking, all willy nilly in those hot tubs. And that’s just what we see. I usually just assume that the hot tub was the prelude to the actual carnal action and that MTV was just using that to help us see who was hooking up and for us to draw our own conclusions.

Hmmm…what exactly does hooking up mean? I was raised around black people so the term is kind of foreign to me. I just always assume it means sex but the way its used would imply that if sex was the definition, every young white person is a whore of magnanimous proportions. So what the shit does that really mean? Does that mean having sex or just making out? Is it a, like, combination of the two? Does it mean going spelunking? Does it mean watching “Hook”?? I really have no idea. Can a white person help me out here? Or a black person who went to a white school and hung with the white people…or a black person who thinks he’s white? I’ve always been highly confused on this matter.

Ahem.

With the amount of hottub action and one-on-one action going on during this show, I’ve come to the conclusion that these young girls are on the best birth control known to man. Apparently, they can afford the kind of expensive shit Magic used to, like, rid himself of HIV. Not one of the kids on this show has ended up pregnant (or fat) and with Jason around, there is a whole lot of assplay going on.

On this show, from what they show us, nobody’s even had a scare. Hell, we get a scare on the Real World damn near once a season. I got a scare yesterday, and I was just opening a can of Beefaroni. Of course, they aren’t showing us any drug usage either and I refuse to believe none of these kids are getting stoned on the regular. Shit, Jason can barely string together a complete sentence so I know he’s high half the time.

That’s besides the point. Do you realize how many pregnancies would be popping up (and despite common belief, teen pregnancy, though still a problem, is on the decline in nearly every racial/ethnic group), if all parents had NO idea what their, like, kids were doing? I’m including white, black, Hispanic, etc. here as well. On Laguna Beach, they frolick and fuck, freely, no fetus. Regular America, kids are gonna be popping out east and west. This is more proof that if you’re rich you can get that good shit, be it cocaine or Trojans or spinners. I hate them damn cheap ass spinners I see on taxi’s and Ford Escort’s. Why do people, like, buy those things? They look like plates. Spinning painted plates.

I’ve just found it to be, like, amazingly funny that none of the kids on the show have worried about being pregnant, had a conversation about what would happen if they got pregnant because it happened to somebody else, etc. This either means that they’re all abstaining from sex (fat chance…actually, this is Laguna Beach, slim chance) or they’ve been implanted with the no-teenage pregnancy chip that one of their parents invented.

Or that the kids are actually practicing safe sex here like nobody’s business. Trojans in Southern California (well the Laguna Beach area) must be selling at ridiculous rates. Which would damn near make these the most responsible kids on Earth. It’s high school. I can think of at least, like, 3 girls from my high school who got pregnant while I was there. I’m not saying that everybody’s house was a total bastion of parental supervision and values and shit, but I just ain’t sure folks had as much freetime with their parents in their house as these LB kids seem to have.

Whatever sex education they taught these kids who can just skip to the hot tub together and lay the hammer needs to be spread nationwide. Or maybe the rest of America just needs some editing so folks won’t realize that you got pregnant and had an abortion.

Or they just need to ship those condoms to every other area with a 100 percent foolproof guarantee.

Or maybe we just all need to be rich and white. And not fat.

P.S. I hate Jason and Stephen is a bitch and there are way too many Alex’s on this show and I can’t tell them apart.

***For those looking for entertainment this evening in the Washington, DC area, check out the link to the Blue Stockholm/Stockholm 76 event tonight at Mirror’s Nightclub on New York Avenue in NE, DC. ***

[*** There is a freestyle battle going on over at Wise Diva's spot. Much like the previous one held here, it's getting crazy over there. Go join in or just watch the festivities. ***]

You know, in life, trust is one of the hardest things to come by.

Some people are slow to offer up their trust, others trust blindly until you screw them. I tend to be in that latter group. Once lost, some people make you work to get their trust back, and others (like me) just say “fuck you and go die.”

Then there are also situations where no matter what, some people just refuse to trust individuals, things, occurences, etc.

The inability to trust can keep people into a shell forever afraid to venture out into the world or allow other people into their lives. The inability to trust can keep you from new life experiences and adventures. It can keep you from meeting the the people who could have the most profound effect on your life.

And it is with those thoughts in mind that I say…

…who the fuck cares?

There are just some things that cannot or should not be trusted under any circumstance. And I for one do not feel bad about it. Look kimosabe, I’m just as nice as the next person, but there are just certain observations you can make that can help you save yourself the trouble upfront of having to call the police and beat a muhfucka down two years from now. That’s where I come in.

For today, I give you…

Panama Jackson Presents…Can’t Truss It: Judging a Book By It’s Cover So I Don’t Have To Kill Somebody Later

[***DISCLAIMER: If by some snowballs chance in hell, I manage to say something that offends your Pope, your religion, your favorite food group, or your momma, well kiss my ass and go die. And on the off chance I offend you...yes you nigga, the fucker reading this right now, sorry, but kiss my ass. Stick a quarter in your ass cuz you played yaself. ***]

1. Black Men With No Bass In Their Voices Whatsoever

Look, my momma’s white, and anybody who’s heard me talk knows that I got a hefty voice. So if I’m largely persuasion, then any of you all-nigga menfolks need to have some bass in your voice. I’m offended when I meet a black dude, gay or straight, with no bass in his voice whatsoever. Nobody should feel like they’re talking to a flute when you speak. Besides, you’re fucking up the stereotype. Bassless voices do not put the fear of God into white people. It makes them feel comfortable. That’s how we lose our neighborhoods.

Niggas with no bass in their voices are Starbucks’ First Lieutenants!

2. People Who Intentionally Give You Left Hand Dap

I’ll never understand this for the life of me. In damn near every country, using your left hand as a sign of “respect” is shitted upon and might end in your death. It’s like not having a drink with a mobster or a white Russian. Hmm…that’s a pun. Anyway, in some places, if you even wave your left hand at a motherfucker, you just might lose your hand. This shit should honestly be in the Bible: Thou shalt not use thine left hand, unless the right hand is missing, totally encumbered, or holding Jesus’ hand, as a sign of welcome and respect. The right hand should be used under any and all circumstances. If you don’t, I can’t trust you.

Especially if you think it’s okay.

Hell, I might have to kill you in two weeks and I knew it ahead of time because of that left hand dap.

And speaking of dap…

3. Men Who Give Weak-Ass Feminine Hand Dap

What kind of shit is that? You ever met a dude who just gave you an ole limp hand dap or didn’t even finish the shit off? Like a black dude who forgot to lock the shit up at the end? Fuckin’ offends me. I always wonder where they come from or where they were raised. I know some folks who give pussydap. And it makes me feel dirty. I’ve intentionally tried to break this one dude’s hand because of that shit. Had me thinking to myself, “self, I don’t think you can trust this dude. He doesn’t even know how to properly greet a King…LOOK LOOK…he ain’t even close the deal!!! Limp handed bitch!” Real men lock that shit up doggy.

Can’t truss it.

4. Green Sauces

Look, I know that one is kind of offkilter and isn’t exaclty in line with normal thinking, but this is my site bitch. I just don’t trust green sauces. Avocado, guacamole, relish. Do you remember the Garbage Pail Kids? Me too. When the garbage can fell over, slimey green sauce that favorited guacamole came out. I’ve been ruined since I was 8. I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like green sauces…if you try to give me green sauce, I’ll try to kill you with the force of a thousand men.

Or I’ll just ask for some ketchup or something. Something that resembles blood because that’s natural!

5. People Who Can’t Look Me Straight In The Eye

I know I might go to hell for this one, but oh well. One of the best ways to talk to somebody is to get them to look you dead in the eye and tell you the truth. If I have to set up a kaleidoscope, a periscope, and some lemon juice so we can do this, I can’t trust it. I might be willing to bend on this one though seeing as I just got my Credit Report from Heaven First Financial Bank Of Eternal Tranquility and my Halo Score is somewhere in the negative numbers.

6. Black Men Who Exclusively Date White Women Or Any Combo of People Who Exclusively Date Outside of Their Race AKA Wesley Snipes Niggas and Bitches

Because I don’t understand it, I can’t trust it. When faced with the buffet of beautiful women of your same race, I do not understand how a man can rebuke them all and determine they aren’t good enough. That man doesn’t like himself and probably has a bad case of Ajax. Or Avian Bird Flu. Or he’s a close associate of Willie Lump Lump. Fact is, I can’t them. They’re hiding something. I saw Imitation of Life, nigga. I saw Tiny Toons and I have seen fuckin’ Animaniacs. I know when something’s up!

7. Black Folks Who Wear Blue Contacts

Umm…you’re lying to yourself so you will lie to me. Hell, I’d be skeptical if they told me that 2+2=4. I’d want to know exactly how they came to that conclusion because I’d think there was a lie in there somewhere.

8. White People

I keed, I keed. My best friend is white! :))

That’s a lie too. Don’t trust me.

9. Cauliflower

This is true though. I do not trust white vegetables. There is something seriously wrong when there is only one white vegetable out there. How is it that only ONE veggie is white? There are a few green veggies, a few yellow, and a few orange. But just one white. The gig is up bitch. And I ain’t drinkin’ the kool-aid.

Hmm…

10. Black People Who Are Too Good For Kool-Aid

I vehemently believe that if you are too good for Kool-aid, you should just drop dead right now. By the power of Grayskull…die bitch.

11. Anybody Who Drinks Starbucks Coffee

MMhmm…I see y’all muhfuckas out there. Do you know Starbucks EMAILED ME?? No bullshit. Starbucks is the “man”. Period. Point Blank. Anybody who drinks Starbucks cannot be trusted under any circumstance! That includes them damn frozen Frappucino drinks. Take no prisoners and post no bills. Also, always wear shower shoes when you live in a dorm. That’s important information…for real.

12. Black People Who Don’t Like Black People

Does this even need an explanation?

13. Anybody who participates in or sponsors black-themed parties at White colleges that don’t include any Black People

Umm…fuck you and die. Seriously, if you are black, and go to a school where this happens, you might as well start rocking Black Panther shit because you can’t trust anybody there to have your best interest at heart. Change your name to Huey or Jawanza and just start shit on campus. They don’t care about you anyway and have already called you a nigga, so make them pay for it by raising hell.

Or transfer to a real school like Morehouse or Spelman. We still love you…for now.

14. Anybody Who Voted For Bush or Thinks He’s Doing a Bangup Job

So let me get this right…you honestly feel like Bush is doing a great job as President, despite all of the fuckedupness that has occurred. I’m even ready to blame him for shit that happened when he wasn’t living. Slavery…Bush’s fault. The Great Depression…Bush’s fault. Hitler…fucked up thinking…and Bush’s fault. This one hurts, because I have friends who actually think this. Let’s just say I don’t let them pick the movies we go see.

Hmm…

15. Anybody With a Consistently Shitty Record When It Comes to Picking Movies

Just trust me on this one.

16. Folks Who Tell You They’d Never Kick You While You’re Down…Right After You Watch Them Do It To Somebody Else

The dumb shit here is that folks will honestly mean it…right up until they do it to you. They’ll tell you that you aren’t like other people then WHAM! Steel-toed workboots all up in your ass.

17. Ugly People Who Are Mean

They’re going to hell anyway, it’s best to stay out of their way before they drag you down there with them.

Hmm…see also mean midgets.

18. Anybody Who Hates on Brandy Unnecessarily

If I tell you that I like Brandy, and the first think you say is that she’s ugly…I can’t trust you. Similarly, anybody who thinks Alicia Keys is the most talented female performer of the past 25 years. You are clearly biased and unable to think for yourself.

19. Niggas Who Police The Internet In Bitchmade Manners

A coward dies a million deaths, a soldier dies but one. That has nothing to do with anything, that line just popped in my head so I decided to share it. Thing is, any nigga who decides that they have the right to police another nigga’s site, needs to be put in check and cannot be trusted under any circumstance. Especially if…you know what, fuck it. They just need to be placed in gasoline showers with terpentine laced drawers and Oprah magazines.

I’ll just stop after this next one…

20. Anybody Who Hasn’t Seen The Five Heartbeats or The Color Purple

Those two movies should cover damn near everybody. If you haven’t seen them, you were raised around nothing but white people and don’t know that a black perm makes your hair straight. You also think Snoop is the best rapper ever.

Can’t truss it.

I’m not the most religious person on Earth. Hell, I haven’t been to church uncoerced in years and the last time I read the Bible, I’d almost swear that in my version, every book somehow turned into Revelations…the bad parts. I don’t know if somebody was trying to tell me something or what. Lord knows I’ve already racked up plenty of hell points, so it’s not surprising.

Either way, despite my religiouslessness, from time to time, I still ponder the wonders of the unknown realm that is God and Jesus and Tupac and Kurt Cobain and Abraham (he had many sons, and many sons had father Abraham, I am one of them, and so are you…so we’re really all incestuously creating our own sons and daughters who are really our brothers and sisters and we wonder why our kids are getting dumber).

See? Hell points.

In my pontifications, I’ve often not questioned how to get into Heaven, but what exactly am I doing that would bar me from entering those Pearly Gates.

[***Sidenote: I'm going to take you deep on this one. So Heaven has Pearly Gates right? At least that's what gets advertised. Well, do you think St. Peter is also responsible for keeping them clean? Think about it, those Gates have supposedly remained Pearly for eons. My grandmother used to have a white pearl Cadillac. It lost some of its luster after like two years. Do you think they replace the Gates every few hundred years, or do they just have the top of the line Ajax or 409 that gets all the dirt and grime that might render the gates Mother of Pearl as opposed to Pearly? Just a question. ***]

Now I’ve already accepted in life that I’ve accumulated beaucoup Hell Points. I’m never afraid to take a joke “there” despite the fact that it might be unsensitive (or insensitive if you graduated from 4th grade), racist, sexxist, uncouth, or just downright anti-Christ-like. But I can admit that there are times that even I know when something has been taken too far. For instance, I was listening to Satan’s posterchild the other day, 50 Cent, and on his song, “Problem Child” he offers his take on the credit line he received from the Pearly Gate First Financial Bank of the Holy Trinity. Take a gander:

“they say you can never repay the price for taking a man’s life/I’m in debt with Christ cuz I done did that twice”

Now see, you just can’t make it into Heaven with lines like those. I’m sure that by the time 50 spat those lines, he was well beyond his ability to get in anyway, so what the hell, ya know?

So, despite straightforwardly rebuking God and his gang, what else might keep me out of Heaven? For instance, I’ve been known to be one of the most racially insensitive people I know and I’ll push buttons for the hell of it. Proudly even. I wonder, when I’m confronted by Big Pete Dog, will that keep me out?

God willing I’ll be around for long while longer, but let’s just say I had to face St. Peter and the ChoirBoys today.

Setting: Suburbs of Heaven, Trying to get into Gentrified Inner City Heaven-At the Gate

St. Peter: The Gates Record-Times calls up Panama Jackson for possible entry into the Pearly Gates. Let’s take a look at your rec…good God, did you really use the word nigga 4.5*10^Infinity times? Is this a typo? Hell, er, I mean, hutzpah, is that even possible?? Wait…son, tell me you didn’t really say that all ugly short people must be nice or they should be fed to Rosie O’Donnell or Oprah, whichever one isn’t dieting this week…HOLY SHI…I mean Santu Santu, umm…. Oh HELL NAW…you DID NOT SAY THAT OJ IS INNOCENT!!!!

Prayin’ Panama: But wait…see, I had a REALLY good stretch from 1991-1997 though. Can I get some credit for that. I mean I sang in the choir and even led the services. Petey Pete, I even went to meetings and I never dipped into the collection plate. And, I quit eating pork. That counts for something big, right??

St. Peter: Pork? That’s the other Heaven bucko.

Prayin’ Panama: Good, cuz I just had a pepperoni pizza yesterday.

St. Peter: Boy did you just lie to me?

Prayin’ Panama: No more than you guys about that whole sending Pat Robertson to do “God’s work”. Wait wait…can I take that back?? I want a do-over!

Somehow, I think my “interview” is going to go something like that. But you know what, that’s going to be nothing compared to what Ma$e goes through. I know it’s been discussed at length, but I am really baffled by Murda Mase’s decision making process. I almost believe he quit praying just in case God really does asnwer him back one day and sends a proverbial ass-whippin’ through words.

I cannot understand for the life of me, how you can leave the rap game because of its sinful nature (which I only assume got you seriously in the black with Heaven), start a church (which should put you definitely over the top), then ultimately backslide into your former role of callin women and pigeons ho’s, running with Satan’s Little Helper, cursing like a sailor, and STILL trying to claim that you are doing God’s work. I’m utterly dumbfounded. And it’s one thing to just be a member of a church. There’s more heathens in church then there are outside avoiding it.

Nobody’s perfect.

However, how can you lead a ministry when you are out there bragging on material gains, talking about committing crimes, fuckin’ cursing left and right, talking about women as objects, starting shit with other rappers, etc? I wonder if God just gave this nigga’s file to Lucifer with Eminem’s file already or is it in a cabinet marked “In Jeopardy” with Panama Jackson, Bob Johnson, and the owners of Starbucks.

I read an MTV interview where 50 Cent claims credit for bringing Mase back to the darkside. He told him that if he would just sacrifice now and make that G-Unit music, on his album he could bring some of those positive message and he would sell like crazy. I’ll admit, “Welcome Back” was the gayest album in history, but at least it fit the message of a nigga who’s given his life totally to God and is just trying to make feel good music. Yes it was bad, but so is 99% of all gospel rap…

…so he was in good company.

What Amerie’s me is that he actually fell for it. It’s like 50 pulled a serpent on his ass and Mase fell lock, stock, and barrel. Which is funny because NOW he sounds a lot better on the mic than he did on Welcome Back. Robert Johnson style. So he signed his soul to the devil, clearly.

I know I’ve done some fucked up things in my life, and I’ll probably do some more, but I’m already on track for hell. As soon as I decide (better yet, if) that I’m going Holy Roller on that ass, I’m staying. You won’t see me in DC, at Howard Homecoming with my man Frank White running up in something.

Mase is a living testament on how to keep yourself out of Heaven. To quote M-A-$-E, on a song from the “Get Rich Or Die Tryin’” Soundtrack,

“I got as many beefs as 50 and a nigga go to church/imagine if i was still puttin’ in work…i don’t know”

Me neither, Mase…but I know one thing, you ain’t getting into those Pearly Gates.

Nope.

You’re going to Hell.

*cueing tourney theme song Willie Hutch’s “I Choose You”*

And she is…

…KENYA MOORE!!!!!!

*yells and screams and folks poppin’ collars and poppin’ bottles of 4.95 champagne because Dom Perignon costs too much…oh yeah, Cristal does too*

To Kenya Moore, the super nubile, supple, sensual, sexxy chocolatey goodness…we love, admire, and want to sop you up with Popeye’s or Church’s biscuits on a Wednesday afternoon while sippin’ some Nestle Quik, preferably strawberry, and passing Chic-O-Stic’s around the circle.

As a tribute, here are the words to the song that inspired so many men to get married, and realize the true Queen they possessed. And yes I had to watch Coming To America and transcribe the words to get this.

She’s your Queen to be
A Queen to be forever
A Queen who’ll do whatever his highness desires

Your Queen to be

I’d also like to say that Halle Berry, I love you and you made it further than I expected you to make it. Thank you for being beautiful, Kenya on the other hand is booti-ful. It makes a difference.

The more you know.

*ding*

Both myself, Big Sexxy, and the a.n.d.y. would like to thank everybody who participated and made this exercise in exploitation what it turned into. It was fun, long, more fun, and even sparked debates amongst lots of folks, spawned a simultaneous men’s tournament which was no less interesting and drew the ire of obviously unemployed time having fuckers with nothing better to do than “police” the internet.

This was both fun and time consuming and I enjoyed nearly every minute of it. Both of us strapping young bucks (umm…no homo) put a lot of thought into this from the beginning knowing full well we wouldn’t be able to include everybody and ran with it anyway. We turned a conversation about women’s asses into a tournament.

Ignorance never had it so good.

So…because I love ignorance with a passion, and like to entertain, I’ve created a new genre of bloggin’ called Ignortainment. And yes I know, BET already exists. Speaking of BET, I discovered something very BET-esque in stats the other day…

…the searches that brought people to my site. So as my tribute to the ignance that was our tournament, I’ve decided to bring to you the most entertaining searches that brought people to my site who weren’t here strictly for the tournament.

Can I kick it???

Yes you can…

Well I’m gone.

PANAMA JACKSON PRESENTS…WE MAKE IT DO WHAT IT DO TO GET TO JACKSONGTICKLE.COM

“eddies gold teeth in atlanta” -Honestly, I don’t even know where the fuck Eddie’s is located in Atlanta, nor do I remember putting that on here…however, there it plain as day. Apparently, my ghetto knowledge knows no bounds or geographical limitations. I hope they have some specials going on. Hmm…do you think they charge more for a platinum grill if your teeth are cripwalking and ragtopping at the same time?? And if you don’t know what ragtoppin’ is…holla at somebody from Atlanta.

“king kong aint got nothing on me” -Hell naw he doesn’t have nothing on me. Denzel neither!!!

“esther baxter bending over” -It wasn’t me, I swear. And I KNOW they didn’t find what they were looking for.

“asian contortionists” -Nothing brightens your day like finding out that not one, but TWO people found my site via seraching for I’m assuming pictures of Asian contortionists. Apparently, African contortionists weren’t big that day. Talk about a let down, hell I want to see them too. I just did my own search.

“johnny gill is gay” -Well, duuuuuh.

*PANAMA’S WEB SEARCH OF THE WEEK*

“parents guide to knowing what cocaine smells like” -I just don’t know what to say about that one. I know I’ve been instrumental in many people’s knowledge of self, but this one even throws me for a loop. Mostly because I’ve never smelled cocaine. Weed, of course. What scares me more is that this might be some parent who’s concerned about what may be their kids new cocaine habit…and they just aren’t sure. Guess they couldn’t find that shit in Parenting magazine, so they came to the only other place for totally accurate information, the Internet. Sad sad times in parenting.

“male actor laz alonzo” -Didn’t we see this nigga on a milk carton a while ago?

“spanking black women” -Ummm….

“lightskinneded titties” -This is why we can’t rise as a people. See we are focused on skin color! And if their white, fuckin’ racists!! What’s worse is that the person who did this search is really in Ebonics hell. I joke when add an extra -ed to my words. Apparently, everybody didn’t get the joke.

“straight boyz nekkid” -I’m just all confused here.

“how to do african headwraps” -I don’t even know how to do that. I just put t-shirts on my head and tie them in the back. Over and under the rabbit hole. I guess it’s better than the parent’s guide to knowing how cocaine smells though.

“what s up with tevin campbell smoking weed” -The nigga wants to get high, duh!!?!

“articles about people who disagree with lil jon s lyrics” -You know, somewhere, somebody out there is actually LISTENING to Lil Jon lyrics for their academic merit. Boredom, it’s their anti-drug.

“dating white women in dc area” -I had no idea Wesley Snipes frequented my blog.

“fucked panama” -Dude, Billie Jean is not my lover.

“does anybody from africa qualify for mtv award” -You really can’t make this shit up. Somebody is looking for the social relevance on America’s bastion of change…MTV.

“female midget contortionists” -Apparently Asian contortionists aren’t enough. Double or nothing, it’s the same person or somebody in their family. I’ll bet their from West Virginia.

“sexxy sexxy bitch” -Why yes I am…fuckers!