Early Sunday morning The Goddess and I are up @ 4:45 going out into the dark streets of Denver to clean another salon with our Aunt. Tired and moody is the vibe I have. The God Shah tells me constantly that every man needs to awaken every morning and center himself in a state which produces agreeable effects. You should not step foot out of that bed until your mind and energy is in a good place. I fail to adhere to that rule.
Banana. The Goddess laughs at me because my minor morning irritation has me reacting like an idiot. I am in the kitchen preparing a protein shake. I peel a banana and the 3 quarters of it falls on the floor. I get mad and snatch that banana up off the floor and fling it on the counter top. She says " Honey there are more bananas right there." I know there is more bananas' right there...I am pissed because that banana was supposed to be in my shake not on the floor.
Orange Juice. The other day my wife goes to the store and asks what do I need. I say Orange Juice. She buys it. Yeah! Now I have orange juice specifically for my protein shakes. One day passes and 3 quarters of the orange juice is gone. Then I come down stairs the next day and my daughter is drinking Orange Juice. Eyes squinted and I pose the question. Who told you to get orange juice? In my heart feeling like a lil spoiled kid..."That's mines"...that is my orange juice. She looks up at me and says "Mom has been letting me get Orange Juice every morning." Seething with anger...I walk off. Now if I wasn't trying to get in shape and do my protein shakes...no one would want orange juice, bananas or whatever I want to put in them.
SUCKA BOY MUSIC
As I wet vac the surrounding area scattered with white folks hair...music is playing from the ceiling; filling ever crevice of the Salon. This is a white folks oriented salon with a hint of fine European decor. Getting out of the complaints in my mind I start to focus on the music that is playing.
I don't know the artists because ya boi does not listen to this new R&B shit and alot of this new rap shit. None the less we are in a white folks salon listening to brotha music. Well, I must be getting old...but that shit sounds whack! A nigga singin' about wanting to fuck a girl in the club. Then I hear another song; a nigga talkin' about fuckin. How he has a magic trick in his pants and hocus pocus shit. I am like c'mon man. Don't no body wanna hear that shit.
I guess this is why when NWA came out and Public Enemy, Rakim Allah and other male/ masculine type cats got hold of the mic...I felt good about music. I am not fashioned to be sissy- fied. Don't get me wrong...I like love songs...but don't be no trick crying and whining and saying outlandish bullshit. I dig the old cats...Teddy P, Gaye, White and them...but these young niggas are whack. How romantic is a nigga talking about wanting to fuck a girl in the club...where is the smoothness in that?
Presents. Our 17 year old just celebrated his b day. We got him a subscription to Game Fly and a PS3. Man...kids are lucky these days. Ain't no way in the hell when I was growing up a brotha wouldn't even have the nuts to ask for a $500 video game unit. Shit we was lucky if we got a $69 black and white 13 inch tv. When asked before his bday came what he wanted he did say a ps3...but even fixed his lips to ask for $1000. I guess a grand ain't worth shit no more.
Freaky. The Goddess got some new sandals so we are getting freaky the other night. Moaning and groaning and trying to silence the noise from little ears...when I get an idea. I jump up out of her run to her closet and get her new leather sandal. I say sandal...because I couldn't find the other in the dark and slid it on her foot. Now the moonlight made enough light so I could see the arch in her foot but the aroma her scent and that leather sandal made had me wild like a mutha fucka. I am licking her foot, her sandal and we are getting it on. Awwww! the memories.
(Before going to get her sandal...actual footage from our session)
(Old pic...but I like It)
