Thursday, July 31, 2008

McCain isn't McAble

In the bible, Cain slew Abel. Or however you spell their damn names. In today's politics, McCain is being a punk as bitch and acting like a sore mother fucking loser three full months before the damn election! "Barack Obama has played the race card, and he played it from the bottom of the deck. It's divisive, negative, shameful and wrong," McCain campaign manager Rick Davis said in a written statement.

How you gonna accuse Obama of pulling the race card? Does he *have* to pull the race card? Is there a soul left on the entire planet earth who doesn't know that Obama is Black? Seriously?!?

Look, I had some respect for you and your service to this country and for that whole tortured POW thing, but it's all but gone now. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that served this country under the guise of freedom so that the likes of Obama could, well ... I duuuunnnnoooo ... RUN FOR MOTHER FUCKING PRESIDENT. But I'm sorely disappointed in the duality that is you ... that you would fight for freedom in this country and then behave now like you do. You are just so damn lucky that Obama is too classy to challenge your ability to be commander in chief with your old, tired, can't raise his arms above his shoulders cracker ass who too damn white to fully appreciate the needs of a military overrepresented by minorities fighting wars in countries whose residents are browner and blacker than we are. He a much better man than JACK is, sir, cuz I woulda been there and back at least thrice by now.

At any rate, I'm glad you're proud of that commercial of yours - the one that "that called Obama a celebrity akin to star-crossed U.S. personalities Britney Spears and Paris Hilton," and I'm sure those in your town hall meeting in Wisconsin who heard you say that all nodded for you. Be proud of your commercial - be proud of your service. Do it, and do it BIG. Pride cometh before a fall, to quote The Good Book.

"Campaigns are tough, but I am proud of the campaign that we have run," McCain said. Keep on keeping on McCain ... while you can still get some publicity for being a punk ass bitch.


For the past three months, you have screwed up my bill. And I can’t say it’s all that hard to do, what with all of the confusing ass charges you have. Three times I called trying to figure out how I was incurring casual data charges – and each time I got a different answer. On June 23 (or so) it was explained to me that my picture mail feature covers the per picture charge, but not the charge to connect to the internet. This is akin to buying a new electric range only to find out it doesn’t come with the damn power cord and you have to buy it separately. How retarded is that? Why would I buy a range I couldn’t plug in? And why the hell would I have picture mail if it didn’t cover the ability to MAIL PICTURES?!?!

Ok, fine – I accept that I didn’t know. And I’ll ignore the fact that the last two people I spoke to didn’t know either – yes, the two people that answer the phones at customer service FOR SPRINT - they didn't know. I paid all of those bills without complaint.

But then I get my next bill – and the vision pack isn’t on there. So, the one person who can EXPLAIN it to me, can’t figure out how to add it to my account. So I complain. And the next person I speak to (number 4) offers a credit and will fix my bill.

Next invoice – no vision pack. More charges. I call and complain and this next person (number 5) suggests changing my plan and adding the vision pack. I do this.

Just got my bill. $309 AYFKM?!? (are you fucking kidding me) So, I call and am so beyond frustrated at this point. Apparently, THIS rep (number 6) acknowledges that I have prorated charges that I shouldn’t have. Right, because the charges are prorated from July 25 to July 25. SMH

And so, I complain again … and Number 6 tells me that likely there’s nothing he can do about the $75 in casual data usage charges. I tell him it’s unacceptable and that I’m gonna have to speak with his supervisor. Number 6 wants to tell me that the supervisor is going to tell me the same thing. After 15 minutes on hold – Number 6 or his supervisor hangs up on me. I suppose the venom was dripping from my voice and they didn’t want anything to do with me. But, redial is a SON of a bitch.

So, I call back. I’m tenacious. Number 7 asks me what the problem is and I refuse to tell him. "You keep record of all incoming calls - I'm not going through this again. You can read it all on your screen. I'm happy to wait." He reads up and comes back as someone who knows what he’s talking about. Offers me a $75 credit BUT argues with me that it’s normal to get different answers from different people. Oh really?!? And here I thought he knew what he was talking about.

NO. If you are training all the same damn people with the same damn curriculum, then all these damn people should be giving the same damn answers to the same damn questions each time I ask them. (Did I tell you that JACK is working on his Masters degree in adult education training and development? hmmm?) Your customer service is sub-par, Period. And as for his telling me STILL that it’s natural to get different answers because you’re speaking to different human beings … I’m a put in writing what I told this smart azz.

When I go to Macy’s across the street, I can rest assured it’s the same damn signs and the same damn computer systems and the same damn EVERYTHING as the Macy’s in downtown Atlanta. But with Sprint – not so. Damn employees go through training and can’t retain anything but water and hot air. The problem is the people. And if all these damn people worked for ME … the only one left with a job would be number 7. He at least understood that I’ve been a loyal customer for YEARS and never once missed paying a bill … never once had my service interrupted … never once! And that got me my $75 credit. His response? “Well, thank you.” (oh, you didn’t think I actually said all this to him? I did. He couldn’t say nuthin about Macy’s)

Oh, did I mention I have three mother fucking lines? Right … three lines. And I’m half expecting to find a line item on my next bill for ho-hos or some shit.

God as my witness, if I get another bill charging me for ridiculous shit, I’m claiming breach of contract and taking my damn phone numbers to Verizon. So, Sprint – CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?!?!?

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

E-cupid for e-stupid?

Looking for love is an exercise in futility. I don’t know ANYbody who went out looking for love and actually found it. It hides in the shadows, lurking and stalks you until it sees that you’ve completely given up trying to find it. Love, so personified, then gets ready to attack, poised like a cat with its eyes held steadfastly on some feathery prey. It’s while you’re out there one day picking daisies, minding your own goddam business that love collides into you, knocking you down, somehow having gained full running speed while you sat there completely oblivious to it. At this point, forlorn and totally disbelieving in love, you wonder: who the fizzy-de-FUCK just knocked my ass down?!?!?

And you know what? E-love is no different. Yes, people … I said it. E-love. Fine, the e-harmonies of the world would have you believe that all you have to do is answer 348 questions and, VOILA! Some other numb-fuck in the aboriginal Australian outback happened to answer 347 of those questions EXACTLY the way you did!

But no.

Let me give you the highlights

The first one
Back in 2005, after my divorce was finalized, I met a man … let’s call him Kiko. (Cuz that’s his name). We seemed to hit it off – he was ghetto and trashy as hell, not unlike me. Except he almost had half my IQ. But it didn’t matter – who the hell wants a man to actually THINK, I thought. Anyway, I found that phone sex wasn’t half bad … and I totally felt safe doing it. It’s like, wow – there’s no real pressure to decide who stays over, did the condom break. None of it.

And then it got weird. He became sort of elusive and began to speak in code. And for the record – if you haven’t figured it out – JACK is a straight shooter (shut up!). I mean, just say what you mean and mean what you say. This code was getting on my nerves – but I figured it all out pretty fast.

I tried to make it easy for him by asking him if he had been tested recently. He said no. I asked why not. He said there was no reason to. I asked why … and yup. He’s positive.

At this point, incensed, I told him about himself. Told him that it doesn’t make any goddam sense to establish a connection with someone only to spring this on them and cross your damn fingers that I’d just sort of be ok with it. I accused him of emotional abuse, an accusation he didn’t like, and eventually told him that I didn’t care if he left angry, so long as he left.

This one was TOUGH. I fell totally and completely head over heels for this dude. It was all about what we talked about, and didn’t talk about. It was the forming of a friendship, that wasn’t sexual much at all .. and I really just liked what he had to say. Of course, like with Kiko, I was still looking for love when c came into the picture.

Long story short – more than a year later he was still dodging any opportunity to meet me in person, I was frustrated with it and eventually just let him go completely. Jaded helped me out so much with that one and I still can’t explain why it was so hard to break up with someone I never met. But it was a SON of a bitch. c and I still talk off and on nowadays, and all of my feelings for him have washed away … but I still get a kick out of saying that the reason he didn’t want to meet me in person was because he didn’t want me to know that he has an arm growing out of his back.

El Poeta
I call him this because it’s part of his screen name. This brutha, although Midwestern and full of Midwestern nuances, totally e-put it on me. Hands down, the absolute best phone sex ever known to man. And I started to really feel him.

And then he became elusive … and spoke in code.

Right, positive. DAMN!

By this point, I softened up to the notion of it being emotionally abusive (at least in the finger pointing kind of way ... because, I still maintain that it's emotionally abusive) and was able to be a friend to him and let him know there was no way I was going to sleep with him.

THAT mother fucker
I was *not* looking for love at this point. In fact, I scheduled two dates with two different dudes within a week and THAT mother fucker was first. And the first night that we met … well, we did the do. How’s that? Anyway, to this day he doesn’t know that less than a week later I went out with Mr. B(ankroll). But anyway, I was in a relationship with THAT mother fucker for over a year. And if you don’t know about him, search my blog for THAT mother fucker, and catch up. He’s a complete waste.

But I wasn’t looking for it and there I was – in a relationship. The reality is that I was a late bloomer (lost the big V at 21) and the prospect of having sex regularly was kind of attractive – even if THAT mother fucker was so only just a little. Crazy, I know. But we all learn our lessons, right?

Mr. B
I’m not in love, I’m not really all that interested in a relationship with him … but he likes to pay for stuff. So, I keep him around.

This list isn’t really exhaustive. But it’s a pretty fair image of what e-love has been about for me. If it’s not distance, it’s the lack of desire to transcend it. If it’s not some communicable disease, it’s a lifestyle that attracts them. If it’s not childish bitches, it’s a mommas boy. I’m telling you, I left a whole lot out.

In conclusion

I’m not saying that you can’t find love on the internet. Just be careful – and totally and completely accept that the person you get to know on the computer screen and on the phone is the person you conjure up in your head. It’s not the real him. It’s the him that’s woo-ing you. It’s the him that you comprehend through the way you interpret what you read – and what you read and how you read it isn’t always what he wrote and how he meant it. What you know of someone you’ve spent a lot of time with but never met in person is what you’ve formulated – and we typically mold him into our image of what is perfect, much like a potter at his wheel with his clay.

Carry on.

Groucho JACK

This commuting and telecommuting is exhausting and it's catching up to me. I've been short with the kids and I really need to figure out how to get to sleep - like where I should be now. Aw well. But, it's SERIOUS. Consider the following conversation:

JACK (to kids): I'm sorry - I'm just tired and grouchy. You're not doing anything wrong - daddy's just tired.

Daughter (to JACK): You've been grouchy for TWO days now.

And as I looked at this child, I just KNEW she really *is* gonna grow up to be a Black woman just fine.

... especially because she held up two fingers at me when she said it.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

ZEITGEIST: Conspiracy Theory at its Finest

I received a DVD some time ago and sat down to watch it. I've just discovered that the two hours are available for free viewing online and I just knew that meant that I had to post about it and see if anyone would actually view it.

The premise is simple: organized religion is a hoax, the 9/11 attacks were staged by the federal reserve and the war on iraq is about making money. Conspiracy theories abound, but this was a very interesting video. Thought provoking for sure.

If you are going to watch it - I implore you to refrain from watching it alone. The dude that sent it to me gave me that same advice and I didn't heed it. What resulted what a very frustrated JACK, alone with his thoughts and no one to bounce ideas off of. Seriously, don't watch this alone. But if you do, at least know you can always come back here and comment. I'm happy to dialogue about it.


Here are my thoughts:

  • I understand the attack on Christianity and the explanation on how it's rooted in astronomy ... but I can't get behind the idea that it's all a complete farce. It attacks the very idea of Faith and while JACK is gay as the day is long ... I do have faith.
  • The peripheral explosions pointed out as the towers came crashing down in Manhattan were very revealing. I agree 9/11 was an inside job.
  • The juxtaposition between the crash sites of airline tragedies in the past and that of United 93 in Penn. was also very enlightening.
  • I agree that religious institutions lie. All institutions do.
  • Bush is the devil. Period. His daddy too. And his brother in Fl? Yuh, him too.

Anyway - I wanted to share ... and although JACK is good for a good laugh, and I'm crazy and all that ... I really, truly am educated, intelligent and totally capable of high-level discourse.

So, bring it!

Monday, July 28, 2008

Laugh with me

Sometimes, I just need to laugh. And usually that means at someone else's expense. For instance:

Yes, little children. Stand there and do nothing.

Or how about this one:

If Santa did this every year, I would so invite him

and i do love the brits

And last, but not least ... JUST when my people are about to get a shout out, the fucking blind gotta get in the middle of shit.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Possessed or Repossessed

In any given month during the next 12, if I do not have $250 by the 7th, JACK will have an SUV, not unsimilar to the one pictured here, for sale. I couldn't find one in the righr color, olive, but that's the right year over there in the picture.
It's in driveable condition - nothing fancy. It's totally just a Point A to Point B type of ride at the low, low price of $2,000.00.
I didn't know it about these damn SUVs, but apparently, they kinda go forever. It has about 180,000 miles on it with a blue book value of twice what I will be asking for it.
Now, I'm not saying that THAT mother fucker can't pay his bills on time - I'm just publicizing a potential sale. That's all, nothing else. Today I left him a voicemail and sent an email that I have the new plates and registration for the damn thing and that he needed to come pick them up either today or tomorrow.
Now, I have a bit of a concern that he may interpret that to mean that I want to see him ... but, no. I'm happy to open the door, throw the plate at him and shut it in his face - but what I am NOT doing is spending my hard earned money on a goddam stamp to send him the fuckin thing. Bring your Black ass over and get the fuckin thing ...
... and be prepared to duck.

JACK and Jaded

From July 2007, Proof that we were meant to be together:

JADED: I've been reading my inner peace book again

JADED: I took it out of the envelope where I was gonna send it to you

JACK: good

JACK: it didn't belong in there anyway

JACK: i'm just fine with my fucking inner peace. I'm tired of your stank ass keep tellin me I'm not - I swear one of these days, I'm gonna cutcha


Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Maybe it's not like riding a bike

OK, so it was an interesting weekend. I was invited to go to the casino with an acquaintance, who offered to pay my train fare round trip from here to there, bankroll my night at the casino and foot the bill for the hotel and dinner. And I really was offended ... do I look like a feeloading whore?

So I got on the 6:00 PM train. I worked on my schoolwork on the way there, working hard to make the time productive. And when I arrived, there he was standing there with a smile on his face. But it wasn't the smile that drew my attention - it was the pants. White, linen-like and white lines (wales, in fact) in the shape of squares all over. They were hideous. And then that choker!

dear god, i hope i win some money on the damn boat

So, he drives me around and pays to drive into the marina to park - only he doesn't park ... he just drives around and then out. So, he paid to drive by the water.


Then we get to the hotel, because I refused to leave my laptop in the car while we gambled and he checked us in. Holiday Inn ... it used to be a Motel 8, I'm sure of it. But whatever ... we're going to the boat. So, off we go.

We eat as soon as we get there and I order the biggest steak I have ever seen - except I didn't realize I was ordering the iggest steak I'd ever seen ... and I don't eat the whole thing ... and at this steakhouse, dinner for two ran him $107. And I didn't even finish my steak!

Well, he made the offer

So we get into the casino and he gives me a crisp $100 bill. Benjamin and I proceed to hang out at the slots and Mr. Man decides he's going to play roulette. I'm up $100 on this $0.02 machine (I love penny, two-penny and nickle slots - the ones with the bonus rounds and you get to touch the screen and make all these other choices - pure fun) and he comes back to announce that he's down $1,000.


I go into this distribe about how that's a mortgage payment and then catch myself that he prolbably doesn't feel too good about losing the money so I change the subject.

We have to stop at the store to buy a few things ... he pick up a 12 pack of trojan ultra thins.

TWELVE?!?! Um, riiiiiiittttteee.

And he picks up the wrong lube and so I switch them out. He wonders what I picked out because apparently he's never heard of astroglide. SMH - poor guy. So, at the register I notice this other purchase i don't recognize and he grabs the box from me so that I don't see what it is.

Back at the hotel, he goes to the vending machine and I pick up this mystery purchase. It's a sexual enhancement pill for men. I'm mad as hell. So laying there in the dark and in no mood to play, I bring this up.

"Why did you buy that?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were pleased"

"And taking a pill was gonna do it?"

So we discussed that he was just thinking I would like it ... and unless we're married and in love, I'm not into long sessions at all. Let's get to the nut and keep it moving. Don't whisper in my ear, don't caress my neck, don't play with my hair. It's actually quite simple: Don't talk, just fuck.

His heart is pounding by this point. Turns out he took 2 pills ... the instruction I read said one pill. And so, now what's going through my head?

WTF am I gonna do if this nigga's heart explodes? I was worried for a while there and then I realized that his cell phone was RIGHT there ... and certainly there's an entry for "MOM" and she'd have to deal with the shit. I'd call the police, call his mother ... and get on the next train. The cause of death would be the pills and not homocide, so why the fuck do I care.

And the festivities began. Only - it wasn't festive. I really, really tried ... but the trojan ultra thin 12-pack is still intact. He never reached for them, he never put one on and therefore he never got anymore than my company. Maybe it had been so long for him that he just didn't know what to do.

Meanwhile, I came home with more money than I left with. And I didn't even text him to tell him I got home like he asked me to. I mean, seriously ... why?!?

Friday, July 18, 2008

Mr. Jackson

Some things need no explanation or introduction.

Dear Cartoonist: JACK loves you, baby

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

My Golden Anniversary

Thanks to Jaded for reminding me that today, my blog turns 50 posts old. This is quite the accomplishment, people - I really don't see myself as someone who follows through, although others may tell me that I do. I mean, fine - I started on the masters and I am almost done. But, consider:

  • I have been "trying" to quit smoking for several years now and even starting taking meds to help me quit and you know what? It made me SUPER relaxed and I enjoyed the smoke better. DAMMIT!
  • I have fragments of previous blogs that I tried - and although they were pure genius, yes they were - they crashed and burned like that ValueJet did into the everglades that one year ...
  • I got married ... and then divorced. Although, the optimist in me wants to celebrate that I went through with the divorce.
  • I have creating a budget since 1993 and I'm still not quite done with it, let alone sticking to it ... why? because it's not finished. I even spent money on budgeting software and then decided it was too BLAH to learn how to use it so I didn't. Tell me you see the irony ....
  • I can't play monopoly anymore - it just takes too damn long. I mean, it's an INVESTMENT and shit. Again, tell me you see the irony ...
And the list goes on and on. But if there's one thing I can say about JACK's Gay Chronicles is that it's here to stay. And hopefully my trekking along blogosphere's big, big world and stopping to frolic at one blog and the next, commenting as I go ... maybe, just maybe my readership will actually grow larger than three people who comment, one who refuses to and send me emails and two others that read and don't tell me that they do, via email or phone or any other mode of communication.

And for that last group ... FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, COMMENT SOMETIMES!!!!!

Ok, I'm sorry for that outburst - it's just that, well - you can even comment anonymously and I just don't get it. If I think about this select group ... both of them - minorities. Dammit, you lazy azz mofo's better get to typing, ok? Dont' make me come over there ...

(You have to get scrappy with those guys)

And to those of you who do stop by and comment with some measureable frequency - Gracias. Muchisimas Gracias! You make me feel good about blogging.

And for those of you BIG DAWGS out there who stroll on by and refuse to comment ... looky here:


OOoohh - I *am* on Candid Camera

I knew it was too good to be true. He mentioned before that he had an interview for a job in Vegas and that he's go through the motions but he really didn't want to move his kids out to Vegas. But I guess I didn't catch on - but today he went a step further. He mentioned this job interview again, but this time said "because I'm definitely moving out of Illinois."

Excuse me - but why THE FUCK are you alluding to this actually becoming something long term? Why THE FUCK are you wooing me? How would we be able to FUCK when you move out of state?

As it is now, he's three hours away from me, from either place. But now you're telling me you're moving out of STATE?!?!

This shit doesn't make sense to me - exactly why, WHY, would you embark on a serious relationship when you know good and God damn well that you're planning on moving?!? And folks, understand me - this is what he is LOOKING for ... he frequents the gay online dating scene and to this point has played the shy role and is very timid and blushes and does all that stupid shit (because it's stupid now, right? I know, I know ...) and is totally intending on skippin' town!

I figure at least he tells me before we actually do any official consummating of ANYTHING ... but I'm kinda mad at myself for not addressing the issue when he told me. But when the words were uttered I sort of just froze and was a bit pensive, immediately wondering if he mentioned that part the last time he mentioned Vegas and I'm not so sure that he did. Either way - I got questions ... and let me TELLLLL uuuuuu, that nigga better have answers! (I all bold now cuz he's not on the phone at this moment - I know, I know .....)

*mumbles underneath breath incoherently*

Monday, July 14, 2008

I no e-speek-a inn-gleesh

When some people try to speak Spanish who don't really know it ... it's kinda like this:

I'm not naming ANY names - I'm just saying. Please. Stop.

Thank you

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Merriam-Webster, Eat your heart out

I'm not one to give plugs (I mean the publicity kind, by the way), but one of the things I have been doing since I was in college is making up words and laughing my ass off at how ridiculous I can be. And throughout my adult life (go figure), I have been doing so with various people who find it fun. I can't even remember some of the ridiculousnesses I've come up with (that's one of them) and some of them were REALLY, REALLY good. JADED stole some of them in a recent post, that I'm too lazy to link to, so I can't very well use those ... so, let me see.

Oh, one time a friend and I made up a whole new religion. And we called ourselves APATHOLICS. And we agreed that we would never tell anyone the tenets of our faith because we just didn't care to. Once when we went out on a smoke break, some dump truck or semi or something drove by on the state route on the other side of the retention pond from us and used his air brakes to slow down (I *hate* it when truckers do that, by the way!) and she quickly turned to me and said, "Doesn't he know that we're apatholics? I don't care for all that noise."

And so it goes - for the most part, it's just fun and we always say we need to start writing some of these things down ... but as apatholics ... right.

Anyway, I came across this Website and just laughed and laughed ... because someone actually did it. Maybe it's old news and you've already seen it ... but I just think it's great that we all make up words and that I'm not some freak (or cheap, crabby whore, as it were).

Anyway - so I thought I would share - because I'm wont to sharing, that's why! Because even though I don't care to wake up at the same time every day, or be on time to work on a regular basis, or shower every day ... I still like sharing. So stop judging. I don't care for that either!

Be careful posting things you want credit for, though - the fine print is that yoru entry may become the property of U.D. ... if you don't care - have fun!

... and let them know JACK sent you (because that and two bucks will get you on the red line in Chicago)

I just FEEL different

Take a look around - things have changed.

I've finally gotten off my ass to do something about this place - it was your run of the mill blog and it needed a coat of paint.

I actually accepted a request to babysit a 4 month old. Seriously - he's right there *points* Now relax, the little nigga is sleeping. I would never blog, totally ignoring him if he were awake and wanting attention. No, instead, I would totally change his diaper, lace his formula with benedryl and make sure he was fed REAL good. But I wouldn't blog.

Actually, he's just such a great baby. He's just low maintenance. He'd have to be if I agreed, ok? But he's happy, loves to laugh and talk and is all in all ... like I said ... a great baby. His mom and dad wanted a night out, a date. So, what the hey - I've got my own two kids with me and it's not like I'm at the bar with the dude who just called me to tell me he was going out because he finally had some free time and it's not like I am out getting laid like I so would if I met up with him tonight. No, alas - I'm home with three kids.

See - responsible JACK.

And, of course - I painted the blog up a bit this evening too. So, two birds - one stone ... Oh, did I tell you that I'm taking an independent study and should probably have been reading this textbook, but instead I was shalacking up the blog?

See - responsible, procrastinating JACK.

(NOT cheap, crabby-ass whore JACK)... Mhmm, Yuh - you know who you are!

Friday, July 11, 2008

Am I on Candid Camera

Well, I've always said it's easier to meet men online, at least for me. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the gay stigma in the Black and Latino communities still lags behind the 'mainstream,' but for whatever reason ... the type of person I would be interested in would never really be OUT and about. So, online it is. The pseudo-anonymity that the internet provides is the perfect place for gay Black and Latino men to really be themselves, especially if they aren't yet comfortable with their sexuality or are "DL."

Interesting thing about DL is this: gentlemen, if you actually post a picture of yourself on these Web sites, you're not really DL. Just thought you should know.

But anyway, I haven't exactly been successful at finding THAT ONE while meeting men online. So, I pretty much accepted that it was a way to make friends and really it's been working. I've met two people in the new city I live in that are friendly and all and really, most of my gay friends I met online ... but you know how the old addage goes, when you stop looking for it, you find it.

So, I'm a little bit confused by how I feel about my latest date. I really like him. And the thing is that I totally went into it expecting him to have a peg leg. Or something. I really did. As a matter of fact, on our first date, I actually asked him if he had a block of wood shoved into his shoe.

He's a 6'3" Black professional who showep up in a button down shirt and a pair of slacks. I was impressed by that - no fitted, no strut, no kicks with funky colors or any other of those things that I typically associate with teenagers and grown men who refuse to grow up. So, call me crazy - I like the professional look. I wouldn't say he's model-esque, but handsome in his own right and the more we talked, the more attractive he became. It was actually quite bizzare.

This shit doesn't happen - does it? I mean, the last two people I met were THE OX and BETTY CROCKER (because his eye wandered off into the Kitchen ... keep up) and so why WOULDN'T I be expecting this 6'3" hunk of a man to be referred to as SOFT SHOE?!?!

But, look - he calls me several times everyday ... once calling me to tell me he had to attend a business meeting with his coworkers and couldn't talk but wanted me to know he was thinking about me.

Excuse me ... Lord? Stop fucking with me, ok? This better not be some game. Because my name ain't Job.

So, what else - he travels a lot for work and has felt like dating people doesn't last when they figure out his work schedule. Oh, right - I live in one city and work in another and in August, I have two four day trips, one to Nashville and one to Orlando. (HEEEEYYYYY, BOO BOOOOO!) So, no problem there. I get it. Off you go.

And the reality is that traveling keeps you apart and helps keep things going ... and truth be told, sometimes JACK just needs you to get the fuck out my face. Go workey - AHORA!

Oh, he has two kids and he's raising them. As does JACK.

I told him that my kids are number one in my life and they will always take precedence over any nigga I date ... and he concured that I should and said he feels the same about his kids.

So, he's been having a string of bad days and I sent him an e-card to cheer him up but he hasn't picked it up yet. No points for me right now. But I did tell him today that I am really enjoying getting to know him and he said, "awwwww."

Isn't that just the SWEETEST response? (Or is it normal and Im' just obviously smitten?)

But anyway - he proceeded to explain how that the fact that I understand his work life and dad life makes him feel so comfortable around me.

Obviously, the fact that I'm easy on the eyes doesn't hurt. We gon' have to work on that one so he throws those bits in there like he gonna have to do hereto unto forever.

And, folks, JACK really doesn't want to bother with any of those other niggas he knows, some who stand in the background and appear only when I decided I need a jump off. Right, even them - no interest. I don't even want them calling or contacting me so that I don't have to explain ... but I got GREAT advice from one of my BESTEST friends ever who said to just make excuses like I'm busy with work or have other plans without actually having to tell them that I'm pursuing another nigga. So, just in case SIX-FOOT-THREE and I don't work out I don't lose the network I've worked so hard to put together.

And before you call me nuthin but a fast, crabby whore - I'll have you know that I haven't had intercourse since February and I was in a committed relationship with my ex- at the time ... and to boot, it was with HIM! Jump offs usually just mean, "touch me and get this out my system but don't expect me to touch you or take you in or otherwise please you." Funny thing is - there're tons of niggas out there who are ok with that. So, why the hell not?! but i'm not a fast, crabby whore!

So, in short - I just can't believe it. I simply can't. Of course, he lives three hours away ... and conveniently I have two home 3 hours apart ... and it's a perfect triangle because it's three hours from each of my places. So, the distance may be an issue - but I am remembering that several years ago I was hell bent on finding someone who isn't local so that I don't have to involve the kids ... and letting go of that and introducing them to my ex- was a big FLOP. So, maybe it's for the good.

Well, that's it for now - stay tuned.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Ah yes - Jesse needs a set of nuts ...

I've been prompted to weigh in on the topic, and indeed I thought I would, but didn't. But ALRIGHT you twisted my arm.

I see a myriad of issues with Jesse Jackson's comment, chief among them that the fucking idiot would assume that that microphone right there ... *pointing* ... yes that one ... would be set to the off position. Assuming the man ever did have common sense, where did it go? For instance, let's consider the following footage:

I'm not sure if you bothered to watch it all the way through, but if you didn't ... speed it right up to about 00:04:58 ... it's off topic, but still it's funny as hell.

Anyway let's see what happened here ... hmmmmm, the media is present. Yes - yes they are. There are cameras and microphones ... yes - yes there are. And all of them seem to be working, evidenced by the fact that you can HEAR everything and there is an almost incessant flashing of lights. Proooobably from the camera. Hmmmmmm ... the folks behind the cameras and the microphones are THE MEDIA. yes - yes they are. And hmmm, let me see ... ONE OF THEM GETS HIS FOOT CAUGHT BETWEEN BRITNEY'S PIRELLI TIRES AND THE PAVEMENT ALL FOR THE SAKE OF EXERCISING HIS RIGHT TO FREEDOM OF PRESS!!!!

Now, what does the media do at about 00:04:58? Oh, they turn the cameras to the nigga that got his damn foot run over and start asking HIM to speak into the mic.

Cut to Jesse Jackson in front of a mic ....


Secondly, Jesse Jackson's son WORKS ON THE OBAMA CAMPAIGN! So, let me see - if I publicly insult this person who my son supports ... yuh, that's not going to cause any family rift. And that's probably a really good predication considering his son's PUBLIC response to his dad's words:

"Reverend Jackson is my dad and I'll always love him. He should know how hard I've worked for the last year and a half as a national co-chair of Barack Obama's presidential campaign. So, I thoroughly reject and repudiate his ugly rhetoric. He should keep hope alive and any personal attacks and insults to himself."

Oh, did I fail to mention his son was the CO-CHAIR of Obama's national presidential campagin. Oh, well he was. Now remember ... the mic is sitting RIIIITTTTE there.

Thirdly, the comment itself. Castration? You want to castrate Obama? So he won't procreate ... or because you need a set of your own? Or, Sir, do you need so personal a mantle piece to honor the black man who is doing now what you couldn't do in 88? You know, I'm just asking .....

FURTHERMORE, don't get me started on the historical significance of castrating black men! After you cut off his nuts, you'll probably want to deny him a seat on any bus and why not just call him a house n***er right to his face? He *is* a little lighter than you and, who cares ... the mic right there - right, the one RIIIITTTTEEE there - probably isn't working anyway. The media really isn't THAT insane, is it?

Of all the things I've read - I really like these two articles:

Washington Post
Here, we see how his son really feels.

AOL News
Now this one I really like - it analyzes how Jackson's remarks are likely to give Obama a bit of a boost in the polls.

In closing - I would like to say this, Mr. Jackson. I'm not calling you Reverend Jesse Jackson anymore. Mr. Jackson, or Jesse Jackson ... but you really don't deserve to be revered or so respected. Your apology should have been very simple ... I'm sorry I said that, I don't know what I was thinking, I really don't mean it ... etc. etc. etc. but it was riddled with explaining why you disagree with one of Obama's stances or another. Seriously, Mr. Jackson - you're old news and nobody much cares what you think anymore. So save it. How's that for freedom of speech?

Incidentally, if you need balls, grow your own already.


Wednesday, July 9, 2008

my favorite things

It's occured to me that I really do have a slew of sayings that I pretty much made up, or stole from someone for my own edification, and that if you don't know me - these JACK-isms just kinda don't make sense. So, here are a few of my favorite things to say:


Literally translated, this pretty much means AND ENOUGH ALREADY! I use this at the end of any tirade - it usually means that I really, really am fed up and really, really mean what I just said.


Obviously, I had to spell it my way ... but this is how I've polished and revived the "Girl, you betta WORK!" colloquialism that RuPaul created. Obviously, the RuPaul era is way over ... kinda like Wayne Brady's, except that RuPaul isn't a game show host ... but the sentiment behind his cat walk talk is very much alive and well in Jackville. In modern day talk ... Jack simply says WERK! And it's not just about runway walks. It's pretty much about anything I get excited about and that exudes the diva/bitch feel. Yes, "WERK!" is much more versatile than RuPaul. (Pun intended)


I'm fond of the dash - it pretty much shows up in everything I write ... unless it's for work and Ihave to be professional. But you can tell that the ellipsis is my friend too ... it's just one of those things that I do that conveys a very simple fact: the stream of consciousness that leaks from my fingertips onto the keyboard has no hard pauses, such to be fit for an actual period, or semicolon - no, it's all happening so fast that its manifestation in print is the glaring under-represented presence of periods in most of the things I write.


Very few people in my world have formal names. Everyone has a nickname. For instance, I'm JACK! (Crazy, I know). And Jaded is Jaded. Here are a few nicknames we've given people (we, being me and jaded et. al.)

babe, the blue ox
Cabron (C, for short)
cabroncito (c, for short)
THAT mother fucker (also known as g in other circles)
PF (this is still my favorite of all time)
The Haitian (and the only reason I add this one to the list is because it cracks me up that we say it like he's the only person ever from Haiti - and as I sit here and think about it, wouldn't people from Hades also be called Haitian?)


I reserve this for times when I totally get blindsided and look like a damn idiot. For instance, if I were to attend a wedding dressed as a jester in order to clown on the bride and groom (again, just FOR INSTANCE) ... and then got there only to find out that I was wearing the wedding colors and fit right in ... I would stand there in awe and say "SONOMABISH!" Like that.

I can't really think of anymore right now - but this is a good start and I'm sure it covers all the majors ... feel free to ask any questions. Or don't - I don't care ... I'll just sit here mumblin SONOMABISH over and over again like a mantra ... that's what I'll do.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Excuse me, Sir - but I'm over HERE

I haven't had the best of luck meeting men online - and you would think I would've learned my lesson by now, especially considering this post, that I am one of a minuscule percentage of normal men who date online. I really am ...

And if you didn't go to that post (shame on you), then you should know that the second thing on my list of things that are suspect in the online dating profiles of men is:

Sunglasses: This one really bugs me. I mean, it's night time and there aren't really any bright lights (like the sun) anywhere and yet you insist on wearing shades. Yes, this is a definite sign of a lazy eye.

So, I'm talking to this one dude and he invites himself over to my place. Actually, I have nothing going on and so I send all of the personally identifying information I have of him to Jaded because she's in charge of avenging my death if I should turn up dead after meeting up with someone I got to know online.

**we interrupt this program for this public service announcement**

If you are going to meet someone, ANYONE, even in a public place ... you must always give all of the personally identifying information you have on said person (name, age, stats, screen name [and on what service] phone number, etc) to a third party with whom you will check in with after the meeting has ended. In addition - you MUST, within the first hour, somehow work into the conversation the fact that you've done this so that said person knows his/her personally identifiable information is at the ready for any law enforcement authority in charge of scooping your bloated, lifeless body out of the river

now back to our regularly scheduled programming, already in progress**

So, he arrives at my apartment and he looks nothing like what I wanted him to look like. His pictures were WAY better. During the evening, his left eye wanders over into the kitchen, AS IF I WAS IN THE KITCHEN! Well, I wasn't - I was sitting right there in front of him. And then it hit me ... he posted two pics, one was a side view and in the other, he wore shades.

DAMMIT! How did I write the fucking rules up in that post (you still haven't clicked ont hat link to read it, haven't you?) and just totally get blindsided by this one right here (pun intended).


And now, I've got nothing left to do but stare at his eye. But then I shouldn't, so I don't - but I want to ... and then I'm playing a game, betting on which direction his left eye will head next. Seriously, how do you ignore this:

Please don't misunderstand me - I know there's nothing you can do about it. But don't fucking stroll up into my house, acting like you the hottest thing since Hades was conjured up in the minds of some cardinals trippin on 'shrooms, trying to woo me and shit AS IF you didn't have a mother fucking lazy eye!!!!!

Seriously, that's some shit you need to tell someone before you meet them. A simple, "if my eye wanders, ignore it - it wanders." And then I wouldn't care that your eye is a nomad. But if you're gonna SURPRISE me with it ... well, guess what ... I'm gonna dance around the room and keep asking "can you see me now?"