Small Cars. Big Women

I have said it before and I will say it again. I love small cars and I love big women. Small sexy cars, Big beautiful women. I know these things dont exactly work together but I am comfortable in my tastes and preferences and I am going to share.  With no disrespect to my lovely wife or my Volvo wagon…

Small Car

The Lotus Elise.

Im not sure you have even seen one of these since they aren’t your everyday car. I actually climbed in one of these once and it was TIGHT for me. I’m not small but DAYOM it was condom tight. AND I LOVED IT! I was not fortunate enough to drive it but it made me feel fuzzy inside and I needed a moment to cool down when I got out. I must say I felt like I strapped into a rocket ship and if I were allowed to drive it I am not convinced I wouldnt feel like I was flying to the moon! If I had the $50,000 the guy was asking for the one I was in I would be $50,000 broker. As it turns out there are some benefits to having shitty credit.

Big Woman

Listen. I almost always disagree with the idea that women should be any one size. Please dont take my preference for the voluptous as an anti skinny girl rant. Not true. I just refuse to buy into the brainwashing that says that one size fits all. It doesn’t. Ok. Enough preaching. Today’s ‘big’ woman is Micheala Pereira. KTLA morning news anchor. Once of “Internet Tonight” on ZDTV. (old school flashback)

I dont even think this is the best picture of her and she looks like she tastes fantastic! No disrespect intended but once upon a time I would have worn that woman out so bad we would both need a Gatorade I V. DAMN!

As I was saying. Big beautiful women aren’t rare. They are everywhere. Reexamine what you think you like. Forget those childhood concepts. You no longer believe in the tooth fairy. You know santa is a lie. Stop holding onto what you were told as true. And for goodness sakes stop telling lies to your kids. You know better than that. At least I hope you do.

Small Cars Big Women

Today’s small car love shout out goes to the Miata. This car single handedly brought back the small convertible and has remained the top seller despite impressive offerings by other big name exotic makers.

Simple and sexy, it has basically remained unchanged since it’s introduction.  The telling tale of it’s simple sweetness is the  that if you drive one and can afford one… you will buy one.

Unlikely to be coupled with such a small car is the big woman of the day. Queen Latifah.

 

Looking lovely at some red carpet event. It is important to note that I hate when the medias say that, “she looks nice for a larger woman” or “she picked the right dress for her size”. She looks good. Period. She is well dressed. Period. And I like that.

Small Cars and Big Women

“I don’t like small cars or real big women, but somehow I always find myself in them.” -Kid Rock

I am just the opposite. I love small cars and I love big women. I have never considered what others think is good when it comes to what my tastes are. This is a topic I will begin a regular segment on. Here is my first small car, big woman stamp of approval.

Small Car

The nissan Cube.

I think this little thing is cool as shit. I saw one on the streets the other day and couldn’t stop staring. It reminded me of the original Scion XB, which I love. If I could afford one I would seriously consider it. Its not for everyone. Nothing is. It has some drawbacks… can’t take my big girl on long trips comfortably. But this would be ‘my’ car. Sexy.

Big Woman

Toccara Jones

Listen. Without being disrespectful to my wife, this here woman is physically perfect. She might weigh 200 pounds or more and I could give a shit less. Whatever she weighs, a woman built like this is too much for some men. I am not one of them. She could put on more weight and I would still think she is sexy. Unmistakably femine. Sexy.

Dump it out

I have like a hundred and fifty pages of handwritten stuff dating back to the summer of 91. I have been going through it and rereading it and dumping shit out as well as posting some stuff in an effort to feel the growth of my ideas and to try to put my stuff into perspective better. 50% of what I have down is pure garbage. I sometimes don’t even know what the fuck I was thinking. Some of it is so angry and violent that I don’t know that it would be smart to post that. Even though I could give a fuck less than a fuckless beggar what anyone else thinks.

Therein lies the rub.

I need to start to read the things I make available for others to read, like someone who doesn’t know the back story. Not everyone knows a kid named Bobby Ward got $5 from me in fifth grade for a book called “Fart” that he never gave me before I had to switch schools. And since not everyone knows that, they won’t understand that I (EDITED FOR CONTENT) that cat some six years later after a chance encounter.

To better put that… I need to simplify.

Conceptually some of the things I am editing to post are way crazy. Some of it is even stupid. Things I wrote when I was 16 may tend to seem a little focused. Certainly probably a little hornier than they should be. Things I wrote in college may seem reflective and even, I can understand if it looks that way, depressing. I will only put forth this. That if someone followed you around and randomly took a picture of you at random points in the day…. some of it will certainly be disturbing. The things I have posted and will continue to post are snapshots. The explanation may not be as interesting as the picture it’s self.

Soy Milk

The signs are there. I am getting old. When did it happen? How did it happen? I don’t know. But I am officially old now. I not only drink soymilk… but i caught myself drinking it willingly when there were OTHER options available to me. A funeral for my youth is scheduled for sometime this week.

Wanna know a secret?

Wanna know a secret? Wanna know several secrets? I know nothing about fantasy football. I mean nothing. When people talk about it I zone out and think about how much I loved my Green Machine Big Wheel.

*shrug*

Fantasy football? Is that like stratomatic baseball? And since I am being so honest I might as well admit I have never seen an ultimate fight or mixed martial arts or whatever it goes by. Yes I’m straight. Fuck you. I just never watched one. I have seen highlights. It looks cool and whatnot but I just havent been interested enough to make time for it in my tv schedule.

*shrug*

And another thing… I have never seen an episode of Lost. Yeah yeah I know I know. Someone I trust swears by it. In fact I have been told I need to watch the first two seasons even if that means buying it. (you mean with real money?) I dunno if anything on tv is worth buying…. while it’s still on the air?

*grimace*

And since we are bitching about something that doesnt matter… Let me say for the record that SPORTS is my reality show. I have never seen an episode of Survivor, Fat brides (and I love a pretty fat woman…), rich man seeks gold diggers, difficult pregnancy, help me raise my bad ass kids, please take my crazy ass wife and let me have yours… whatever the shows are.. I dont watch. I suppose I am still too close to drama to find other people’s drama worth sitting through.

Fuck that.

I admit I watched the first 3 seasons of the Real World but by season three when they threw Puck out the house I was convinced they were going to always toss out the one muthafucka in the house who wasnt about the bullshit that was popular in the house… Then, from what I could tell… they did the best they could to ’script’ it but putting volatile peoples in the same environment to create and maintain a false sense of conflict. Fuck that. Fuck that. Plus it gets old after a little while….

I was unfortunate enough to see an episode (my second by the way) of Bridezilla. Oh my!

I think they look for the clearest case of couples who won;t work out and who shouldnt be together and they follow around the bride to be as she is a terrible shit leading up to her wedding. I know it is probably being played up for the cameras but the crazy is high on the what the fuck meter. And I reminded my wife that some women make a huge mistake in thinking that because a man loves them and takes their shit, doesn’t mean he wont tire of it one day and leave.

I should pitch a show idea of the reality of the divorce. Follow the once bridezillas around 3 years later when that guy realizes that a woman might love you who isn’t nuttier than a christmas fruitcake dipped in peanut butter. Call it Divorcedzilla.

I’ll tell you one more secret. If these shows and ones like them went off the air I wouldn’t miss them at all. Unfortunately they are probably here to stay. That said, it wont be a secret anymore that at least one guy could give a fuck less.

Full moon

Full moon. There I lay, stretched out on the hood of my car enjoying the silence. Feeling the breeze, thinking about days come and gone. Opportunities missed, bad options taken. Here, in the bright darkness I get to be honest with myself. No distractions. Nothing to lead me to a thought. Nothing to lead me away from one either. Silently listening to the things I had already been told. Some things never set in. Some took hold and were forgotten. Some things   I knew before they were ever said. Some things forgotten. Some things I can’t forget.

Here. In the quite dark I can be thankful to God. Here, I get to say I’m sorry. Here I get to ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness for all I ever did wrong. And I pray. God. Since I can’t seem to stop making mistakes… please let me learn from them and not make the same ones twice.

9-11-2001

I have heard old folks lay claim to knowing where they were when they heard JFK was killed. And those who do all speak it with a great hurt. I have had many a wonderful thing happen to me in my life and my memory of those happenings in many cases is fading as I age. September 11th 2001 didn’t happen to me. I was in North Carolina. But that day is carved in my mind in such great detail that I know what I ate. I know who I spoke to and I even remember what I had on. The day effected me very much even though I did not loose a loved one. My day will filled with panic as I tried to locate friends and loved ones. I watched the towers fall on tv and I still cry when I see it on tv as I relive the day in it’s horror.

There is no humor in the day for me. So when I say this is funny what I mean is it is ironic. It is funny to me that the only day of the year that I think of my ex wife is on 9-11. She was my fiancee at the time. We had an apartment in DC and she worked for the government. When the flight hit the pentagon they cleared out of her building. She hopped in the car and headed south. She was one of the last people to get out of DC before they shut down the roads and she drove by the smoking building on her way home. The terror in her voice still haunts me. Her panic still hurts me. I try to remember what I said if anything because I was in tears and I was doing my best not to let her know. That was just the start of my day. I  called  my sister (religion). Our calls  were short and choppy… She worked in a place near the towers, and she told me she was walking forever to get away from it all. Cell service was in and out but mostly out.

And friends I had lost contact with who I KNEW worked in the vacinity…. calls went unanswered as I scrambled to look people up. Guilt set in. Why had I not called such and such in ages? I promised to get up that way and visit but got self involved. Would that be the last time I saw my people again?

I still feel that hurt. I still do. This day only lets me relive it.

Where you been fool?

Check it out. I had a friend ask me a simple question and I had a few immediate answers but I kept comming up with answers and I started to think that if I had so many answers maybe I really didnt have one.

It put me in a funk.

I couldnt really focus on the crap I usually focus on. In addition to that I have been busy all month with some of the things in life I havent done that I should have done. I will not elaborate. Fuck you. Its my buisness.

Anyway.

So Im all curfuffled over this. I am. And no matter what I tell myself I keep undoing my own thought. Defeating the purpose. I finally got my footing after a series of conversations with my mother, mother in law and father in law. It all slowly clicked for me.

The answer to my friend’s question wont matter until i am working towards it. Otherwise any and all my answers are bullshit. Let me clarify. I could have given the first few answers that came to mind and then I could have taken it more seriously and answered with my standard interview answer but this is one of my real friends and even though it was a light question, i know, i rather give a serious answer rather than just a standard bullshit answer. With real friends, it is my opinion, that you dont give bullshit answers. Bullshit answers are for co workers you dont like and those cousins you dont want in your buisness. When one of those fringe associates asks you a question you answer it with bullshit. “Hey buddy. How was your weekend?”

“It was cool. How was yours?”

But when someone that matters to you asks you, “Hey man. How was your weekend?”

You better not say cool if it wasnt.

You Shouldn’t Fuck With Crazy

You know her. You heard shit. Most of it bad. But certain parts are real good. You know she is crazy. She is married. She has a boyfriend at work and she is messing with another cat yall work with too. You have been watching her since day one. You appreciate the look. The smell. The fact that she is thicker than a Wendy’s frostee…

Damn.

You end up working with her crazy sexy ass and after a little while she gives you a green light to schedule a performance. You are flattered but you let the invitation stand. It’s sexier that way. Plus you know she is going crazy trying to figure out what’s taking you so long. Your conversations function on the surface as basic but thats never what it really means.

“Hey. How you doing today?”

“I’m ok. I’m a little stressed though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I need to relax.”

“Won’t you find a quite place and take a few minutes…”

“It’s not the same.”

“Well you do what you gotta do.”

“What about you? When do you take lunch? You wanna go sit out in the car and relax for lunch?”

“Ah see… If I have lunch I need to eat. I can’t handle taking a break and not savoring my snack. Plus I hate to rush.”

“See…”

“Lemme run before the boss lady comes and starts yelling something crazy.”

“I yell. But nothing crazy…”

So you get tempted. You have to focus day to day. You know you are too good at what you do to play second fiddle to anyone. Much less be the fourth string quarterback. But what if you do get in the game? What if you are as good as you think you are? Do you move up the depth chart? Do you replace #1? Are there still cats in line behind you? What if you get the starting job and dont want it or can’t handle the stress? What if the pussy drives you crazy? What if you drive the pussy crazy? What if some cat who used to be on her team gets mad at you and runs up on you and jams you up?

You know she has problems. She is nuttier than a pecan pie dipped in peanut butter. You ask yourself, “Exactly how much dick does she need?”  And why the hell are you even considering fucking with this woman? You know it can get you killed. Your better judgement tells you to walk away. And you listen to it. But many a brother didn’t. It might seem like a good idea at the time but you shouldn’t fuck with crazy.