Friday, October 15, 2010

JGC II?

I may be at whits end - although JACK was so much more neurotic than is the real me ... I've got to admit, he had a lot more fun.

Am I tired of the straight and narrow? I'm not sure. Maybe I'm just being moody ...

Or maybe I just need a good dickin' down from the next nigga that strolls on by. I could duck into the alley with him, get it like I need it ... make him give it to me AGAIN ... and send him away with sweat on his brow, his sweat pants askew and with a little stutter.

A temporary one, of course.

And then JACK can go away like Jason in the hockey mask does, only to rear his ugly head again periodically and confuse people as to why he just won't die ...

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Post 325: Eulogizing JACK

Please continue to follow the spirit of JACK into The Refined Ghetto - but first, from the desk of The Jaded Nyer, the following:

Friends, Bloggers, Lurkers. It is with great sorrow that we gather here today to mourn the loss of our beloved friend Jack of Jack's Gay Chronicles. It is a day I feared would come and in fact has come too soon. But let us not mourn too long for Jack's death has made a way for Alex's birth; the true embodiment of the concept Mufasa taught us in the Lion King... the circle of life...

George Bernard Shaw once said: Death is for many of us the gate of hell; but we are inside on the way out, not outside on the way in.

And I think that was true of Jack. He was, in a way, in a hell of his own making, hiding behind the words on the screen, never really able to be out in the open. Never really free. I remember his frustration at not being able to say what he really wanted to say sometimes, and wishing I could say it for him because dammit- it needed to be said.

But now that he's free from the shackles and able to cut a fool down in that great big blog in the sky, I know that his pain is over. He is no longer silenced. He is no longer hidden. The emperor, my friends, has no clothes and frankly- he don't give a fuck.

I am sad to see my friend go; we had many a good time together. Threatened many a blogger together. Made fun of so many people together. Plotted against so many idiots together. And I am fearful that those days might never return.

However I will only mourn a day or two, for in my heart I realize that while Jack was the bees' knees, Alex is, in fact, the cat's pajamas. And the knowledge of that will comfort me every time I log on to the internet.

Fare thee well Jack, my love. May the gods of cyberspace serve you all the Captain Morgan your little liver can stand. I'll miss you.

******************

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Dying to be JACK

I think JACK has served his purpose and it may be time for him to be laid to rest. I'm tinkering with another blog template to continue blogging, however. I'm just going to come out of the blogger closet and be me and let JACK fall back.

So, stay tuned ......

Friday, April 9, 2010

(Another) Playa with no game

My fucking phone woke me up this morning, beeping. A damn text. Ugh! So, I read:

"You were great in the shower last night. ;-)"

... from a number I don't recognize.

"Ummm ... hate to break it to you, but I've no idea who you are."

... and as I try to go back to sleep ...

"sorry"


Lessons Learned:
1) Apparently, I make good decisions about which niggas to erase from my phone
2) Apparently, he does not

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Taking Advantage

In June of last year, my job laid off 1/3 of the staff. It meant I inherited a shitload of job responsibilities and a slew of promises to promote me and adjust my salary.

I took over all of the director's responsibility, since he was laid off, and that of his part time admin, who was also laid off. I kept 90% of my own job responsibilities.

I sat through director's meetings, both on site and off site.

I created the 2010 budget for the department, and sat through all budget meetings with the board of directors.

I closed 2009 in the black - 15% ahead of projections.

And today - while out to lunch with the President I made it clear that I'm not having it any more. I just got back from that lunch and I feel lighter. I was professional, of course, and told him that I appreciated his telling me how valuable I am and detailing for me what great skills I have.

"I know that to be true - I have all that to offer and more. But the organization's actions to date have communicated otherwise. And that troubles me."

He said he understood, said he didn't want to lose me as an employee and blah blah blah.

"We've had these meetings since before our office move, since November. We've discussed the job, the job title, the fact that there would be a salary adjustment ... but never with any specifics. The only real specifics I have right now is this here job description ... but I wrote it, I sent it to you and we're here because I asked."

He mentioned that he had wanted to wait to announce all the organization changes at the same time and it seemed that he allowed me to get caught up in all the delays occurring elsewhere with hiring a new managing director in a different unit.

"I understand that. But at the same time, I want to make it clear that this is a significant issue for me as an employee of this company."

"I hear you loud and clear. I'll make it up to you - and soon."

"Ok," I said with a professional smile, and secretly thinking "babies have been conceived and birthed since you first said that to me"

So - if I end up jobless, blog family - you know why: My Mouth. (for not letting my job take advantage of me like they want to continue to do)

(I'm seriously clearing my life of bullshit, though - I am in a good place mentally and I refuse to have mended that area of my life only to give up the ghost emotionally. I can't be bothered.)

(Incidentally, I have indeed been sending out resumes since November. I didn't do it completely whimsically)

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Blessed with Friends

There's nothing new on the FB Social Experiment, so I thought I'd share today. It's been a rough day for me, emotionally. I've been in a funk for a hot minute and have been pensive for much of the last 7 days. And it has all unraveled for me in my head, thanks to two of the best fag hags, I mean girlfriends, in the entire world.

That JADED - she's top notch, I swear. I told this bitch I was all emotionally worn out, you know like to the point of tears because there's just not fucking much else you can do. Well, I suppose I could punch a wall or some random passerby, but a) I'm too cute to have bloodied up knuckles and b) I don't really fight and when I have to it's rarely clean (I'm 5'6" dammit! In the hood that meant scrappy - so [hear Della Reese for me] - I like to throw garbage cans at people.

I digressed, as I'm wont to do. But this bitch was all up my craw about the tears business. Cry? She asked me. "Deal with it and move on!" Thank God it was via text because I didn't need all that yelled in my hear. As it was, I could totally hear her tone right there in black and white!

Then there's my gurl in Indy. Lunch is a date on the 14th, she wrote - Mark Your Calendar! The first day I get to Indy and she's ready for me. That's right girl. We'll meet for real. And all those other things she texted me to encourage me? Priceless.

In the overall scheme of things - I've got true friends. Between the two of them, we're talking upwards of 20 years, bitches. And I really am grateful they're there to keep me in check when I'm about to lose my Got Damn mind.

News in a somewhat related area, I've been upset with a friend of mine for some time now. He and his man had a falling out and I had some real issues with how he dealt with me at the time. To be clear, he and I were friends before he met his man and at one point he was referring to me as his BFF. But when shit got real crazy for him, he was ghost. Didn't communicate with me at all ...

I was worried as hell - wondering what he was really doing and if he was truly ok. He would only intermittently respond to my emails or texts, and never took my calls. I felt snubbed, especially when I realized that he was obviously speaking to other friends via FB. I've watched his other friendships flourish and I've been conflicted.

I'm truly glad he's ok - has people around him and that he isn't in self-imposed solitary confinement. But at the same time, exactly what the fuck happened that I don't get to take part in his healing process? I felt that I earned the right as his friend to be there for him. And yes, I said that correctly - friendship is a privilege and I'm not interested in the type of friendship that is only ok when times are good. I can be there when shit hits the fan too.

I haven't heard his voice in many months and although we've discussed things via text - he knows I'm upset. And have been upset. I suppose I thought our friendship had surpassed that phase where you're selective with what you share - but I've grasped that apparently it hadn't. At least not on his end. It's been hard to accept, but I've reached the acceptance phase.

In other areas, however - not so much. In some places, still in mourning - in others, in denial. But my ride-or-die bitches are quick to make sure I'm in no way confused about where I'm at with the so-and-so issue.

And for that, I am truly grateful. (And I'm grateful for the extended warranty I bought on the Audi because it's currently getting $4,000 worth of work done for $375 - praise JeSUSSSS!)

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Chinese (Dominican/Puerto Rican) Experiment - TAKE II

I flipped the script on JADED today. She threatened to make the switch to our FB faux relationship to "it's complicated." Instead, and sneakily, I made the change.

Interesting thing here - it told me that she needed to confirm the status of the relationship, but as soon as I changed it my profile said "it's complicated." Didn't bother waiting for her to confirm it. And then, within minutes, our text exchange:

I'm NOT confirming that we are in a complicated relationship. I REFUSE! How dare you, carajo?! Don't you know who I am? You think you can do BETTER?

Mine says complicated. I don't care what you do.

*sobs* How can you humiliate me like this?!? ON FACEBOOK?!?

Who's this?

MIRA CARAJO!

JACK's COMMENTARY
It's funny how that in real life, one person can decide a relationship is complicated and it just is. I mean, I might think everything is fine but if my man is struggling with it - then it's complicated. But, really - what the fuck does that mean? A Complicated Relationship.

What *IS* a complicated relationship? I've always thought it was pretty cut and dry. Relationships are riddled with ups and downs ... what's so complicated?

Any thoughts?

Monday, April 5, 2010

Chinese (Dominican/Puerto Rican) Experiment

It's sad but true - we've been single since before FaceBook. And since FB has been the medium of choice for starting, complicating and announce the end of relationships - Jaded and I have embarked on a journey .... we're officially in a FB relationship. And this is what we've learned so far:

  • You can't just be in a relationship with just anybody. They have to actually confirm that they know you. FB said I had a "relationship request." When I clicked it, it asked: Would you like to confirm your relationship with Raquel? I confirmed, although we both wonder what would happen if I ignored the request. (But that wouldn't facilitate this CDPR Experiment)
I suppose this is kind of like real life, in that you do kinda have to ask someone to be your girlfriend or boyfriend - I mean, you at least have to have the discussion ... I'm glad to see that hasn't changed. Like, in my day - you asked someone to dance ... and nowadays, you simply have to see someone dancing and that apparently means you can bump your dick against his/her ass and sway in time. But FB confirms that the idea of having to ask someone to be in a relationship with you is still alive today. That's good to know.

  • The people that know us well are completely baffled by our announcement in FB. Others who know us both are reluctantly (and ingenuously) thanking God we're off the market. (Dumb asses)
Apparently, it's still commonplace for people to be plastic and smile all up in your face(book) about shit ... I really wish that weren't true, but alas - it is. OH! And dumbasses still exist - but we already knew that.

Next on our list is to figure out what happens when you try to be in multiple relationships at the same time. I'll give the details in my next post - but first I have to find someone who is willing to let me try to "Relationship" them on FB without it being weird or anything.

ta ta for now

Saturday, April 3, 2010

the softer side of JACK

Winter Lovers

Sent from the sky above
a snowflake drifts along
slowly
seeking a final resting place
and lands on his lash
gently
His lover sees it sitting there
and leans on in to kiss it
softly
I close my eyes as he closes in
and feel his lips
warmly
melting away the frost
that dissolves and tracks down my cheek
sweetly
and there in three-quarter length coats
made of gray cashmere and wool
lovingly
we hold leather gloved hands
and stare into each others' eyes
deeply
until it doesn't feel like it's cold at all

Monday, March 29, 2010

Damn Drag Queens

Memphis Bitches Don't Play




Chicago Bitches Don't Neither



(For the record, I know someone who rides the Red line to that Jarvis stop. Mhmm - I'm looking at you ...)

And for your viewing pleasure ...

Friday, March 26, 2010

Interesting Things

I had to write down three things I like about myself because Jaded's blog said to - and I realized that I really like my gray hair. I really do. It's been there for a while and I am quite attached to it. *grin*

I got an email out of the blue at work from an old college friend. She and I were mad tight back in the day - she didn't make it, leaving after Sophomore year, and I went on to graduate. We lost touch, after trying half-heartedly not to, and now she's emailed me. We're planning on chatting tomorrow. Should be a good time catching up.

Watched "Cloudy with a chance of meatballs" with the kids tonight - it was cute, but I didn't really like it all that much. However, there's this Black cop in the movie whose dad tells him he love him and the kid says, "Dad, you tell me you love me ALL the time!" as excitedly as he can. My kids, almost simultaneously, say to me - you do, too daddy! That made my night.

I've lost 4 pounds this week. Went to the gym 5 times in 7 days, and have been watching what I eat, cutting out all that late night snacking crap. A good friend motivated me and I think it's sticking this time. (And when I say motivated, I mean he worked me out two days in a row and it hurt to move for the whole fucking week)

My daughter forgot her homework at school - and I realized that I needed to have her mother call other parents and find out what the homework was. It's a big project to do internet research and I don't live in their school district and don't know any of the other parents. Anyway, the child was mortified at having to tell her mom that she left her folder at school because "mom doesn't like it when I leave my homework at school."

It was all good until she asked me to wait and not tell mom until we saw if the teacher responded to the email I sent. At that point, the dynamic changed - I told her that mommy and daddy don't keep secrets and that we had to really talk about what was the right thing to do. 35 minutes and lots of tears later - she calls her mom and tells her. It all worked out ok - and baby girl ended up telling me "I feel better"

Why one of my friends was over here with her 3 year old and left him with me while she ran home for a bit ... and that was 3+ hours ago?!? She just called and said she's on her way. I guess I should go into the other room now. I just needed some adult time - it's been me and three kids for THREE HOURS! lol

Thursday, March 25, 2010

No really does mean .... NO



Last week I got this text message from a dude:

"I don't know what I did wrong, but I can't do anything about it if you're not communicating with me."

I had not spoken to him in a while, but the last time we had spoken, he was trying to get me to phone bone or have text sex or so whatever. Clearly, dude has gone off the deep end, since I did already CLEARLY explained that I was not doing casual sex and that I wasn't interested in this nonsense. So, I ended that interaction abruptly and a while later I get a text pic of his finale.

I've not acknowledged him at all since. No responses to IM's, to texts, to his phone calls. And - yes, I'm clear that he has a mini-obsession thing going on, but it's not my problem. It really isn't. When I tell the mutha fucka that I'm not interested in casual sex and that that phase is truly behind me ... that I really am not looking for JUST sex, so casual sex is just not really an option because that's all casual sex is (it's JUST sex) ... the mutha fucker should NOT be talking about, "that just made you so much hotter."

He's obviously not listening to me. That, or he thinks he's God's gift to gay men and that he can wear me down. And if it's the latter, then he CLEARLY doesn't know me. When I done made up my mind, it's set. Like concrete.

Today I get a text from this other brutha - a kid, really. A decade my junior and trying to holla for a couple of years now. Whatever, he comes out of the woodworks when it's convenient for him ... we exchange niceties and then he disappears again. Today?

"I'm just bored in class. What's new?"

"Fool, pay attention!"

"I usually do - but today is boring"

"Bad Student!"

"You should punish me :-)"

"How do you think I should go about doing THAT?"

"You can figure that our - I know yr a freak"

"Actually, I'm not - it's 3+ months since I took that vow of celibacy"

"But why? You're a hot boi"

WTF! When I say that I'm not doing the casual sex bit ... the response should not be a reference to how hot you think I am, dammit! I don't give a got damn - ok? Listen closely - NOOOTTTT DOOOOIIIINNNNNGGGG IIIIITTTTTTTT

Acceptable responses include, but are not limited to:

  • "oh, cool - I didn't know"
  • "Well, go on witcha bad self"
  • "Peace"
  • "How long has it been? That's great"
  • "For real?! YOU?!? LOL" (cuz I can take a joke - but eventually, one of the aforementioned acceptable responses must follow)
Seriously, folks - if we're not dating, we're not fucking. (period)

Y YA!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The Second Best Dad

My Daughter (unprompted): Daddy, you know what? You're the second best dad in the whole wide world!

JACK: Is that right?

My Daughter: Yes - because God is the best daddy - and then YOU!


That is all.

Happy to play second fiddle to the Lord,

JACK

Friday, March 19, 2010

I know stupid when I see it

It's been a long time since JACK's Camera made an appearance around these parts and I bet you thought JACK had actually put his camera away, stopped taking pictures of things and people and perhaps he had actually stopped invading people's privacy by not only taking pictures of them without their permission, but posting them on the internets for everyone under the sun, moon and clouds to see. But I didn't. Instead, I've been collecting

Take I

I think it was those Japanese food places at the mall food courts that started this trend by shoving Bourbon Chicken in your face in those little white cups for you to sample and come back fiendishly looking to make a buy. But look closely here:


THIS bitch wants you to sample cat food.
(and, no, this wasn't Petsmart!)


Take II
After one of my hookups some time ago (it was Fall of 08, I think!), I left his apartment all wobbly in the legs because, let me tell ya, it was GOOD. And there on the corner ... was THIS place:



Totally stupid name, but this one made my day.
(Ok, actually, the dude did - but this was close second. Well, second.)





Take III
Before my current job moved, and when I was smoking, this was where I would go for my smoke breaks. It was easy to just chill in the parking garage because it's outdoors and there's a roof! Bonus.



But clearly if you're a jumper, they want you to be at least on the third floor. I think there's maybe liability if you survive the fall.





Take IV
It was really hot that day.



But, seriously? No one at the bank can get this shit right? It's NUMBERS, dammit!




Take V
Chicago weather can toy with the extremes.



BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!



Take VI

Now, I really appreciate construction signs. I really do. The last thing I want to do is be driving along, minding my own business and then have some kids daddy land on my windshield because I didn't know he was going to be there around the bend holding a SLOW sign.



But who the FUCK put this shit up? I mean, exactly what? Huh? Where?! Look, just tell me who the fuck did this - because THAT mother fucker I wanna run over.





TAKE VII

New York City. Circa a few months ago. I'm driving my rental when suddenly something tells me that may I really SHOULD have purchased that "walk away" insurance from Avis.




No, but really - aren't there schools where you practice on a closed course to get a CDL? I didn't even know thes signs CAME this big. I wonder if they make them big enough for airliners.









TAKE VII

Sometimes, however, I feel like stupidity is there to remind me that things could be oh so much worse for me. Like, fine - I'm single, I'm stressed a lot, I usually always tired from running so hard all the time ... but, I don't do shit like this



Clearly, there are no gay men on THIS marketing team.
(ooorrrr maYYYYbe there ARE - and this might just be sheer brilliance! Cuz I want one now)


TAKE IX - MY FAVORITE




Nigga, PLEASE get your big, dumb black ass out of the Walmart shopping cart and wait in line properly like the rest of us. DAMN!

Monday, March 15, 2010

Please, oh please, oh please, oh PLEASE

It looks like this thing will eventually become reality. I do love Chicago, the big city feel and the hustle and bustle and the big buildings and the "I'm so alive" feeling. But, being here and not LIVING here is a pain in the dick. I mean, I can't tell you how much money I shell out for the privilege of owning a house in Indianapolis and renting a room in Chicago and driving back and forth between the two.


Indianapolis is pretty in its own right, and although I don't particularly like it there as much as I like it in Chicago - that's where my babies are and I need to come on back home.

I have been sending out resumes for several weeks now, a few of them just yesterday. It looks good that I'll get an interview with my alma mater (I'm listed as "interviewing" in my candidate profile, even though they haven't called me) and just today I received two phone calls for two other positions. I'm praying I get at least one job offer out of this and I'm posting to ask my blog family to hope, pray, meditate or whatever it is you happen to do ... and hope, pray, meditate or whatever my way there.

Keeping my fingers crossed,

JACK

Sunday, March 14, 2010

My Baby Black As Hell


So, there we are - watching the Disney Channel. It's That's So Raven. In this episode, Raven has a vision she's dancing with some hot dude at the prom. So, she turns down everyone who asks her for being "not him."

Anyway, it turns out that she's all dressed up and still has no date - so her father dresses up in a tuxedo and offers to take her. She turns him down saying she just needs to suck it up and go with her friends.

(She gets stuck in the moon roof of the limo - a blast from the past ex shows up - they dance in the gas station parking lot and blah blah blah)

So, afterwards, I say to my 8 YEAR OLD daughter:

"You're gonna have ME take you to your prom, right? Cuz you're my baby girl"

She responds, without giving it so much as a thought, saying "nobody said you could ruin my teenage years."

I *promise* you that's her momma right there ... right the fuck thurrr, that's her mommma!!

(I mean I didn't expect a yes - but I didn't expect a "get the fuck out my face, daddy," neither)

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

My New Idol

Monday, March 8, 2010

Momma don't know best

Momma Don't Change
It happened one day when I was talking to a friend of mine about random guy things. I was married then and he and his girlfriend were visiting - I lay on the couch and he lay on the floor and we spoke into the dark. He asked about my mother and I got to talking when these words spewed out of my mouth, "I love my mother, but I don't particularly like her." I stunned myself - and was grateful to find out that as I spoke those words, my friend drifted off to sleep, having never heard me say them - but I couldn't forget then and it fucked with my head so much that I went to see a counselor about it. Did I really not like momma?

You might think I'm on some bullshit when I say, quite candidly and rather smugly, that my mother is off her fuckin' rocker. The bitch will completely and totally point at me and laugh her ass off, and growing up she did that a lot. She's got bats in her belfry for real - she initiates gossip about me throughout the family as if I'm some off-the-street trashy nigga.

She's just plain 'ole certifiable. But I'm not on some rant about how annoyed I am at her - for I've really come to accept that she is who she is and that despite how I feel about it she's going to continue being who she is. If nothing else, those counseling sessions helped me realize that I can't change her and her gossipy ways and that the only thing I could change was me - so I accepted that my momma just crazy, ya' - crazy. I don't like the crazy, but I do love her crazy ass.

Momma Don't want no Gay
I've toyed with the idea of coming out to her, but I realize that every time we broach the subject, she shuts down. She is in some serious denial. But she knows - she just doesn't WANT me to be gay - so if I don't admit it, then it's not so - but she knows. (This the crazy JACK momma logic)

Once in college I was arguing on the phone with my boyfriend - although he was the one I wanted, I was confused and was sort of simultaneously talking to the woman who would eventually become my ex-wife. Anyway, after that call, mom asked me if everything was alright. I said yes, ma.

"You fighting?"

"Yes, ma - but it's fine"

and as I walk away she said, "is it with a man or with a woman?"

I turned back to her and looked her squarely in the eye, "both."

She turned away from me and distracted herself with some crossword of hers.

I still remember the blank stare I got before she turned away from me - she was utterly shocked ... in a mortified sort of way, not in a surprised sort of way.


Momma don't want no faggot
Another time, after my divorce, I was hooking up with this dude who was going to pick me up. I was in NYC visiting mom and that's where he was going to pick me up.

"I hope you're not getting into that faggot shit," she said to me.

I looked her squarely in the eye, "Why not?!"

She stared at me and then cut her eyes to distract herself with yet another fucking crossword puzzle book. No more talk - no more acknowledgment. End of discussion.

But she told me a lot by calling it "faggot" shit and refusing to acknowledge me ... we're cool as long as I'm not gay.

Momma will make up some SHIT
I could fill volumes with the nonsense my momma will make up - but today's edition takes the cake. You will NOT believe the nonsense my own mother is perpetuating in the family. It's likely the most ridiculous "my son ain't gay, dammit!" pounding of the chest nonsense you done ever heard. You ready?

My cousin (female) called to tell me that our aunt (my mother's sister) told her that my mother told HER ... (you following?) ... that she's convinced that my cousin (female) and I are lovers.

Yes, folks - incest is better than homosexuality - just ask my momma.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Suck the Shine off Dem Lips

So, my lips have been screaming for the winter to go the fuck away and for some humidity to come on back into the air - so I've got m carmex. I'm on a date last night and put some on - I ask him if my lips are shiny cuz I don't want them all shiny. He said it didn't matter because he'd suck the shine off my lips if he had to.

Really? Ok - so, I was at work today and .... blah blah blah

Look folks, I wasn't kidding about my not being into no fuckin and suckin and frottagin' and all dat. I'm not sure where my libido is, but it's off in some far away brush hiding from me. And I'm not out looking for it.

I made that clear when he and I began to speak - of course, we met online. So, of course, I didn't have my hopes in the rafters over the date, but it was a fun change to an otherwise mundane schedule of work, train, home - work, train, home. So, I went and for all intents and purposes things went fairly well.

Weird.

I didn't see any sparks or anything - but I'm glad to have gone out and met him and to listen to him speak as opposed to reading him text. I'm not sure what the shiny lip comment was about, but I think he got the message when I acknowledged he said it and kept it moving into other areas. He didn't disrespect me, he didn't try to touch me or get me home or anything. It ended with a kiss goodbye that was really just a peck on the lips and nothing really extraordinarily ridiculous ...

I done tole you how I once accidentally blew a drag queen - I'm not taking ya' mother fuckers at face value anymore ... any queen in heels can kick off her shoes and put on some Nikes and a pair of baggy jeans. But I'm (mostly) sure this one doesn't moonlight in hosiery.

Whatever - I'm just glad I'm able to date without getting cum in my hair.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Children ...

I maintain a great relationship with my ex-in laws. The ex-wife and I are on decent terms, somewhat reminiscent of how we were when we were best friends in college, before we made the ridiculous decision to get married and act straight. My ex mother-in-law is on of my aces. My brother- and sister- in law, not quite as tight - but we're family.

My sister-in-law? I'm needing someone to punch her in her goddamn face. She had a kid with her boyfriend two years ago ... and since then they've broken up and he's seeing someone else. Clearly she went through with having the kid in order to keep him - she's absolutely obsessed with this man, who has hit her and cursed her out in front of the kid.

Yet - she still wants him. Once she asked me for this song on CD, and I knoew that I knew that I KNEW that she was pining for her baby daddy again:



So, the mother-in-law and sister-in-law (they would be mother and daughter - keep up) have had a falling out over how she is raising this boy. She doesn't pay him ay mind, is always on the phone and when she DOES pay him mind, she's raising her voice at him. When she's not yelling at him or ignoring him, she's looking for a baby sitter.

At one point, Child Protection services was involved - medical neglect. She had this boy with pneumonia and three separate family members told her to take the kids to the ER. Three days went by and she still hadn't gone. Enter Child Protection - she took him to the ER right then ... he was admitted. Her case was eventually closed, although not without her piss testing every week and having in-home counselor meetings ... she did it, though.

She's back to her old habits again though - the kid is 2 now and is constantly back and forth. Grandma (the mother-in-law) asked me to pick him up and bring him to her because she wants to spend time with her grandson but at this point doesn't want anything to do with the daughter. Ok, whatever - I go.

But I have to go to the baby daddy's new girlfriend's house. Right - momma didn't have the baby. Neither did daddy, cuz he was working. This child was with his non-custodial parent's girlfriend ... without diapers, wipes, food - with nothing. And momma dropped him off 4+ days earlier. He was still wearing the same clothes.

I go to a second hand store and buy two outfits and two set of PJs. I go to Walmart and buy a car seat, diapers and wipes. And I go get this baby. He sees me and right there in the middle of the street he wraps his 2-year old arms around my neck and squeezes ... and doesn't let go.

I hugged him and loved on him right there in front of God and everyone ... and when he realized he was getting in the car with me ... he was game. My kids received him excitedly and he's been with us the weekend.

He's hugged up on me all the time - he's not been yelling or screaming, or been yelled or screamed at. He's been 100% obedient to the word NO and hasn't been a lick of trouble. He's eaten sporadically, so I've left cheerios and such all around the house in bowls and I've seen him picking at it throughout the days. His appetite will pick up when it does. You don't make a 2-year old eat - when he's ready ... he'll eat you out of house and home. So, I'll be patient.

Here's some advice from JACK:

  1. If you are gonna have a baby because you think it's good for your relationship - chances are your relationship sucks and you need to end it.
  2. The baby likely needs to go too.
  3. Two words: birth control
  4. Three words, in case number 3 doesn't work: Morning After Pill.
  5. If you call CPS on a family member, it will never ever quite be the same again. But that should never dissuade you from doing it - it's all about the child.
  6. If you choose to have a kid - you no longer matter.
  7. If you still want to matter - see number 2
  8. Don't nobody want to raise a grown-up. If your ass isn't out on your own, get the fuck out there on your own. I'm tired of grown ass mother fuckers leeching off of their parents, or grandparents, or the system or what have you. This is especially true if you have children. If you aren't yet living on your own and find yourself pregnant - see number 2.
  9. If you have children and are doing drugs - keep that information away from JACK. I'll totally report you.
I firmly believe that in the last week, the sister-in-law is on one binge or another. If she's drugging or drinking or fucking ... I don't know. But it's a binge. And if you read number 9 above - I don't have to tell you that I'm calling child protection services ....

AGAIN.
_________________________________________
Mother fuckers want to forget what it was like to be a kid in a dysfunctional environment - still fucking thinking they're the center of the universe and that the world somehow owes them an adult life free of responsibilities because their childhood sucked. Mother fuckers, please - I will put my childhood up against any body else's fucked up nonsense ... why the fuck do we want to continue the cycle? Why do we want to put our own children through shit we went through ourselves? WHY - when we have so many more options at our disposal than any generation had before us. Fuck you. Just fuckin' FUCK you.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

100 Percenter

I've taken to doing some self talk - because, quite frankly, there's just a lot of nonsense out there. And I can really get pissed off in a hot minute ... ok? And no one's gonna control that shit if I don't.

Like today - when my boss pissed me off to no end. I find myself constantly picking up the pieces for him, and foreshadowing shit for him and trying to help him stay ahead of shit because in the end it all falls on me anyway. I'm really tired of it - and today I was at wits end and I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes.

But, my mantra: He did not give me my joy ... and he cannot take it away.

That's it - I work too hard to let another man have my joy. Hell no. Whether in business, in life, in love ...

Ain't no man give me my joy - and can't no man take it away.

I've got me a plan and I"m sticking to the plan and I'm giving it my all ... had a little boo hoo time, Y YA! I'm over it. It's behind me - back to the plan. 52 days without a cigarette. The rest of my life yet to go ...

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Why I gave up my vices

OK, so no casual sex and I quit smoking. And in light of the last 7 days or so (and if you've been reading my blog, you know it's been a mess), I decided to bring some levity back to JGC. And that means, I'm fessing up about the real reasons I decided to drape on that wholesomeness cloak.

  • Smoking was fucking with my head. I was constantly telling myself it was the last cigarette and I was getting more and more angry with myself for not being able to quit.
  • I was a phlegm factory and constantly dealing with head colds and shit and that just doesn't make sense. I felt like I kept putting my hand on the stove, getting burned ... and doing it again. Lunacy.
  • Casual sex wasn't getting me anywhere - and all it was giving me was a complex. Getting tested every six months is stressful, plain and simple.
  • Then there was that time I accidentally blew a drag queen.
  • The best sex I've had in the last two years was with a brutha who was so damn high he has no idea who I am. No, like ... seriously - he hits me up a couple weeks ago on adam and introduces himself like we've never met.
  • Actually, wait - that wasn't the best sex. The best sex was with this other brutha I don't speak to anymore either ... who met someone after we hooked up and decided to pursue something with him. But who isn't out and doesn't want anyone to know where he lives.
  • Did I mention I inadvertantly blew a drag queen?
  • Today I hit up another brutha I had been messing with because I haven't heard from him. I knew he had gotten laid off and I wanted to see how he was doing. He moved to DC for a job. After I congratulated him, he told me he was coming back to town and I was going to help him pack and move. "No, I'm not."
All in all - casual sex and smoking were fucking with my head. And look folks - I'm a crazy mfer. I hold it together pretty well, but I really am one neurotic son of a bitch. The last thing I needed was to continue to do things that were fucking up my very frail psyche.

Reality is that I conducted an inventory of ME ... and I found the shelves empty and the racks half full. Seriously, who's going to invest in me if I'M not ... right?

It's been 7 weeks since I've had a cigarette. 9 weeks since I've fucked around.

And you know what? I've actually been able to better focus on my job search ... I've got 8 resumes out there, all to very pertinent jobs, all with customized resumes and cover letters ...

... because I need to just get back home and stop all this driving nonsense. JACK's not found much in Chicago worth staying for ... just a bunch nonsense ...

... and a drag queen with a big dick.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Funeral Hell

Why do families need to lose their minds when someone dies? See, I'm not questioning the fact that it is so - because I don't know a funeral that didn't result in some drama - but I'm questioning why it has to be that way?

In my previous melancholic post about my cousin's passing, I detailed the depravity shown by someone who sets a gun to a man's temple while he holds his 6-month old. That's the fate my cousin found. It was truly sad.

So, the family goes into high gear trying to figure out how to get his remains back into the states, since he passed away in Mexico. And I swear to God, I was about to find some fence climber and just ask him to strap my cousin's corpse to his back and bring him on home ... that would have been easier. For real, for real - all jokes aside - that shit would have been easier.

So, long story short - after some considerable difficulty, my cousin gets her brother home.

[enter mother fuckers no one even knows claiming to be his kin and wanting to run shit]

Fucking Crazy.

But I would like to put one particular cousin on blast - the deceased's brother. We'll call him MFA, for mother fucking asshole.

MFA's one responsibility was to house the deceased's common-law wife and two kids. (That would be his own sister-in-law, neice and nephew) The kids are 5 and 6-months. The 6-month old being the one who witnessed the whole murder. Ok - so, why the fuck does this MFA show up to the funeral home with his sister-in-law, niece and nephew talking about he can't afford to keep them anymore and someone has to take them?

What!? Lemme tell you - transporting a body from Mexico to the USA is NOT cheap. Paying for a viewing ... is NOT cheap. Getting family in to NYC from all over the country (Chicago, Orlando, DC, NC, et. al) is NOT cheap. And all the fuck this nigga had to do was keep this woman for a few days.

Nope. It's noon. He's at the funeral with this bitch and her two kids talking about all he has is $60 to his name and he hasn't even fed these people! Homegirl is nursing the 6-month old and she hasn't eaten a thing.

[enter pissed off JACK]

I had to let him know that he's an asshole. I had to let him know that I didn't give a fuck about his dead brother at this point. Because my dead cousin wouldn't want us spending money to mourn over there at the funeral parlor while his wife and kids went without food and shelter.

I told him that if I were to die, I didn't want NAN-UH ONE UH DEM anywhere near my funeral - I'd prefer strangers deal with me and my kids and figure out what to do because this shit is crazy. Who the fuck does this?!?

He stuttered and shit and tried to explain that this and that that and that the other thing ... I had to shut him down again and again and again. I put the woman up in a hotel, we all made sure she got something to eat and for the next few days, MFA didn't say a word to me and I didn't even acknowledge his existence. Seriously, MFA is dead to me.

Oh, did I fail to mention that MFA threatened her with legal action if she didn't release the deceased's body to the family? Oh, yuh - he did that.

Oh, and that MFA threatened to fuck with her veteran's death benefits if she didn't release the deceased's body to the family? Riggghhhtttt ....

and then he gets her to the states and puts her out.

He's dead to me. For real, for real - I've got nothing to say to that man ever again. Simply unforgivable.

(and let me tell you - this is the very, very, VERY short version - I'll spare you all the sordid details ....)

-JACK

Saturday, February 13, 2010

When Men Play God

A Mexican newspaper published this photo. Underneath the sheet? My cousin. May he rest in peace.

I've been really down this week. I didn't really know him, since he was about 16 when I was born and way out the house by the time I had my first memory of living with my aunt and uncle. But, yeah, his father and step-mother raised me and his siblings, with whom I was raised, are in mourning.

I'm kinda down over it, in a depressive mode even, but I can hardly say that I am experiencing anything near what my cousins are feeling. After all, they knew him. But I can't shake this sadness myself - and what I really want to do is be near my cousin in VA and just be there for her. It bothers me that I can't do that either.

What happened, you may be asking. And that's a good question. He was killed, execution style, outside of his daughter's school. His wife was inside dropping off their oldest. Their youngest? Another good question. Their infant was sitting on his lap.

I can't even begin to comprehend the depravity of man, that he would shoot another man while an infant sat in his lap. I mean, there was a time when kids were off limits and people respected that - no matter how "bad" they were. But seriously - to have a wife and mother come out of school to find her husband dead is bad enough ... but to find her infant in his lap covered in his blood? There's a special place in hell for these people.

And don't get me wrong - I'm not naive to the fact that my cousin was not running around town holding down a 9-5, reading to the blind and helping old ladies cross streets. Clearly, people don't get assassinated for attending sunday school in a predominantly Catholic nation. I get that ... I really do. And I know that there are many people out there on the errant side of the law, perhaps, or on the errant side of very bad people ....

But that doesn't mean that those people don't have families who love them. It doesn't mean that those people are necessarily bad people themselves, although I suppose it's possible. But my cousin was rekindling his relationship with his family - he was trying to come around ... having established contact with his siblings and all that, exchanging I love yous and everything.

I don't know all the specifics - but I know it's fucked up to shoot a mother fucker who's holding his own child. That shit hurts me. I'm not trying to make my cousin into some angel, ok? I don't know that he was. But I do know that people loved him - and those people are hurting and it's hurting me to know that they're hurting.

I've said in an earlier post, I believe it was in my Jennifer Hudson post, that the 'no snitching' rule should come with a clause that exempts the rule from applying when children are involved. If you fuck with children, the 'no snitching' rule is out. And in this situation ... the 'no snitching' rule should SO be out.

Yet, it's not. No one saw anything. No one can describe any of the assailants. No one says anything.

Except my second cousin who cried and cried and cried as her father's soul slipped into eternity. Right in front of her.


Que Dios me lo tenga en La Gloria

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Letters to Imaginary People


Dear Mother Nature:

I'm really tired of your ass fucking shit up. Hurricanes, Monsoons, Earthquakes, Tsunamis ... seriously, what's up your craw? The Tsunamis taking out hundreds of thousands - that wasn't cute. But I'll give you points for originality. This thing in Haiti? Now you're just being a bitch. I'm going to need you to get your shit together, lay back on some leather couch and talk out your issues. Some Zoloft may be in order. Or Lithium ... but I'm no medical professional. I just know that you might just need a break.

So, fucking take one ... NOW.

-JACK





Dear Old Man Winter:

I'm going to need you to stroke out already. I walked 6 blocks to the train this morning with snow pelting my face, pulling behind me my roller bag ... and those fucking things don't do well in the snow. So, you had me out in the middle of the street with these dumb ass mother fuckers who can't drive on snowy pavement. And then like three feet of snow on the east coast? Seriously, you're done. Take your old ass a real long dirt nap. Maybe mother nature will no longer feel the need to compete with your ass and she can calm the fuck down too.

-JACK




Miss Tooth Fairy:

Look, Bitch - you are NOT allowed to adjust for inflation. Your ass ain't real, dammit! How the fuck a tooth worth dollars now? What happened to quarters?

I'm blaming your ass for all the dental problems in the ghetto. I mean, at $5 dollars a pop - do you know how much coke a mouth full of teeth can buy? Why in the hell would anyone want to have any when they can have dope instead?

You need to readjust this shit ... parents everywhere are just WAITIN on your ass to show up one night for real. Gon' have your wings framed and mounted, watch.

-JACK




Dear Santa:

I'm a set your ass on fire next time you come down my chimney. Do you know how many parents have had to file chapter 11 cuz of your dumb ass? I swear to GOD you're the worst of the bunch. And that stupid laugh of yours - makes me want to pop you right in the mouth. Holding your belly while you mock us as we march on down with all our paperwork to Bernstein, Weinberger, Feingold & Markowitz. I'm putting a hit on you, that's it.

WANTED: FAT, JOLLY WHITE MAN WITH A BEARD WEARING A RED SUIT AND CARRYING A GINORMOUS BAG OF PRESENTS. LAST SEEN HOLDING HIS MIDSECTION AND LAUGHING AT ME FOR HOW MUCH I SPEND ON CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY. DEAD, OR ALIVE.

-JACK




Dear Father Time:


How does your feet-shuffling, tooth-missing, ben-gay using old ass have shit moving so fast? Slow this shit down - I'm in no mother fucking hurry back to ashes and dust, ok? Fuckin 2010 already and I haven't even been to Venice! (It's on my bucket list) Next time I see you, my friends and I are going to abduct you and admit you to Shady Pines. Your ass needs a break, and some people your age to play bridge with. And if you put up a fight, just keep in mind that I'll be carrying two rolls of quarters stuffed in a sock.

-JACK

Saturday, February 6, 2010

300 and Counting

I made it to 300 posts! Seriously, this is the longest relationship I've ever had. *kisses JACK on the forehead*

JGC will live on and will still bring you the crazy, the funny, the camera, the caption contests (I haven't done that in a while, huh ...), the gay parenting ... etc. etc. But I will no longer be a participant in the Date-A-Hoodlum program just for JACK's writing amusement. I'm so over it.



Maybe over the next 300 posts I'll find someone decent and actually have some semblance of a normal, healthy relationship ... instead of, you know, my telling JADED that it's been over 2 months since I've had sex and her responding, "OMG - are you ok?!?"

bitch.

But seriously, I feel more centered that I've felt in a long, long time. Even though work is crazy and I want a new job (and I'm searching actively!), even though I'm still always tired from the driving back and forth between Indy and Chicago, even though I'm under the weather a bit, over weight by more than I care to admit and am struggling with this 1800 calorie diet I can't seem to be consistent with ... I feel centered.

It's amazing how outlook and attitude really trumps circumstance - it's a fact that I've known for a very long time, but (whether for the Puerto Rican, Gay or Black-by-Injection in me I do not know) I know that I've made a conscious decision to be negative and have attitude and be critical ... and you know, what? I'm through. Eh - it's too easy to be critical. Let me challenge myself and try to see the good in things and the good in life and the good in people

(and I know that last one is going to be the toughest one because by-and-by, let's be honest, some people can be some kind of fucking rotten ... but the new JACK only says that parenthetically)

We'll see - the ultimate goal is to not just FEEL centered - but BE centered. Off I go ...

Friday, February 5, 2010

My Love Story

Recently, my daughter wrote on a note under the Christmas tree asking Santa "for my family to stop smoking." She went for it. before she wrote family, there's a scribbled out "da" ... She meant for DAD to stop smoking, but went all out and scratched it out in favor of family. But it was me.

There's a post-it note on my computer in her handwriting inside a heart she drew: mia + dad ... and another post-it: mia and dad sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g

She's the love of my life for real. My nickname for her is MyLoveStory and I've been calling her that for years. Today, she turns 8. And I don't care what anyone says, an 8-year old who loves her daddy and has NO idea what it means to like a boy or kiss a boy or date a boy ... that's what being an 8-year old is about. And, today I thank God for blessing me with the most perfect little 8-year old a man could ever have.



And although this Mariah song reminds me of her simply because of the title, there is one song that is forever OUR song. My song and my little girl's song. I remember when I told her it was our song and I would sing it to her while I drove. I still remember how when I sang to her and looked back at her and said "how my eyes fit in yours" and she sunk her chin into her shoulder and batted her little eyelashes at me. And yes, she will ALWAYS be my joy.



I'm certain we'll dance to this at her wedding - it's my intent. I'm sure we'll still be dancing like fools then ... like we have been for years ...



Happy birthday, my love story. I love you past the rocket ships.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Ethnic Cleansing


I'm ethnic - and I'm cleanin' house. I'm tired of the nonsense. It seems that every so often I find myself needing to take stock of the world around me and decide what I want around me and what I don't.

What I want around me

  • Positive people who can make me laugh.
  • People who are about their business.
  • Energy that harmonizes with synergy.
  • Alignment of actions with words.
  • An empathetic heart and a sympathetic ear.
  • Eyes that watch God.
  • Talkers who listen and listeners who speak.
  • Dwellers, but not brooders.

What I don't want around me

  • Abusers of time, energy and substance
  • A marked focus on the trivial
  • Incessant spontaneity
  • Fear
  • Canoes adrift on reckless waters
  • Self absorption
If you find me distant, unresponsive or apathetic - you need not ask me what category you fall into. I can't be bothered right now. I feel the vibration of transition, like an incessant strum on the string of a guitar ... and I need to focus on the good.

You can keep the bad and the ugly.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

In a new direction

Hello fellow bloggers (and readers and stalkers and government censors, etc.)

So, there's this guy I know - let's call him Keith (cuz that's his name). We met I don't know when in 2009 and went on a date. He thought he was the most impressive thing ever. He wasn't. He really tried and tried and tried to impress me with all the people he knew in town and how many business owners he was cool with because he too was a business owner ... and I was just GAG over the whole thing. But I was in my for-the-sake-of-the-blog mode and I did end up sleeping with him. I was drunk as hell by the end of the night and I used that as an excuse. He's so not my type and I really just needed something to blog about and laugh over and all that.

But I'm so not there and haven't been for what seems like a long while. He was blowing up my phone today. Kept IM-ing me on my phone, then calling my phone and I just kept ignoring him. He called from another number and I picked up and DAMN if I wasn't mad at myself for picking up the phone. So, we get into this conversation about things, and I tell him where I stand.

I'm not really into the whole casual sex bit. I feel like there are so many things out of balance in my life and the last thing I need is to have that type of one-night-stand nonsense to add to it. I know myself to be the emotional creature that I am and I just don't want to deal with that empty feeling I know too well, the one that I get when I'm doing the walk of shame home ... or when the dude ups and leaves when we're done. My job is messy and I am looking for another, trying to take control of that situation, and this idea I have about really wanting sex to be within the confines of a relationship is about my wanting to take control back in THAT area of my life too.

I feel like I'm cleaning house - and anyway, so I tell him all of this and he talks about how he's not looking for a relationship. No shit, Sherlock - hence, my avoiding you! So, as I am explaining to him how I see things, he says, "so are there other guys besides me?"

[insert stunned silence here]

I recoup pretty fast. "Yes!" And then he goes into this spiel about my being the only one. Really? Am I supposed to believe that, really? The last time he and I did anything, it was still shorts and T-shirt weather ... and I'm to believe what, now? Spare me - I don't believe it.

But I really don't want to get into an argument about it ... so I let him talk about how he's very particular and blah blah blah. And about how great I am and how he feels we have great sex and have this connection and how I just accept him for him and how with me he's just Keith ... and not that professional, or that director, or that church minister .... or that whatever the hell else he listed.

Oh - yes ... church minister. You didn't misread that. But that's his issue - not mine. I don't give a fuck. I mean, if I'm to believe the church's doctrine as face value, as the church would have me believe it, it's bad enough he's another dude, let alone a minister - so whatever.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I don't feel any chemistry, the sex is fair to midland and I dont' find him attractive at all. I simply just listen and then tell him that we're just on different wave lengths.

I ponder all of this and I wonder if I'm just getting old, or wise or outgrowing things ... but what I do know is that this situation is a little bit sad. I don't like being in this situation, that I've created this type of thing ... that he saw fireworks when he closed his eyes and I just had my eyes closed. Kinda sucks ...

But I'm not SO mature that I'm not glad that I'm on this side of the imbalance. I fucking HATE being into someone who isn't so into me.

But, then - I'm in that situation too. *shrug* (another issue entirely)

At some point, I'm going to have to find someone I like who happens to also like me. Of course, that's everyone's goal ... but for me personally, I feel I need to stop having sex for sex's sake.

Check with me in 45 days time and let's see if I still feel the same way or if I've given in to carnality and climbed a nigga or three.

-JACK

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Chirrun'

I heard these words that did not please me. I thought I was going to lose my got-dam mind.

My daughter: Trevon said I'm hot.

Seven. She's 7 mother fuckin years old. So I asked her what that meant and she said "I don't know." Yeah - whatever. I went into a diatribe about how (the proverbial) "they" don't understand what they are talking about and they're using words they have no business using and blah blah blah

But I didn't say it - Trevon did.

She might be the apple of my eye, but I ain't stupid. I went on and on and on about how she can be pretty all day long, but it matters none if she ain't got nuthin in her head and can't figure out her school work and blah blah blah.

He also said he was gonna beat the crap out of Maria

Although I have met said Maria and believe she could use an ass whoopin (and her parents too), I lost my mind AGAIN at my daughter saying "crap" in front of me. I run a household where the word "stupid" is a travesty and she wanna come home talking like THIS?!?

I promise you I had to have a little talk with Jesus this week. Tole' him all about my troubles ... and she lucky He heard my fainted cry. Because, HAW-NEY ... there was about to be a revival of the pissed-off-gay-prican-daddy kind .... complete with wielded flip-flops and mile-a-minute speech impediments.

A 7-year old telling my 7-year old she's "hot." WTF!?!? Pass me the church fan - I need some air.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

On a serious note ...

I don't feel like finding pictures and shit right now - so, consider this the Catcher in the Rye version of JGC.

24 Days
I have not had a cigarette in 24 days. I'm fucking amazed at myself. I started smoking some 15 years ago and although I had this notion in my head that I could not smoke forever, and knew that I had to eventually quit ... I didn't actually think I was going to. But, I did.

It's an interesting thing to find new triggers that I didn't realize were triggers. I got into the car to drive to Indianapolis and I started to pay my pocket to make sure I had my cigarettes - and I stopped myself. I really wanted a cigarette? Why? Because they characterized every road trip I've ever taken. Yet, now I drive and don't smoke. And I don't get road rage either! Bonus.

To crush or not to crush ... that is the question
Admittedly, I've been crushing on this boy and I'm just totally tired of it. It's kinda of a knack of mine, though, to want what is not available to me ... at one time it was DL men, at another time it was married men, and now gay men in relationships. It's funny that I've gone through it so much that I can just shoo it away like an annoying, buzzing fly.

That didn't used to be the case - those who have known me the longest can attest to the fact that JACK has been known to hold on to some nonsense ... like that gay dude who lived 700 miles away who I met online and I longed for for three years ... having never met him. Yuh - that was a str8 mess. (so to speak)

But I don't have years anymore. I don't think I even have months in me anymore. I'm fucking great - because if I don't think so, who the hell will?!?! - and I really need to do better by me. And so - NOT to crush, it is.

300
That's how many posts JGC is approaching. JGC is definitely the longest relationship I've had. Unless you count the 7 years I spent with the ex-wife. But she's a girl - so I don't count her.

Anyway - I've got to do something big for post 300, I think. I don't know what it is, though. No idea at all. I don't have much time, though ... maybe I'll just squat on it (again, so to speak).

Any ideas?

Monday, January 25, 2010

Why yes. Yes, I do.

Hello fellow bloggers! Please get to the chorus before you decide I've wasted your time.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Clitter me this!

A special thank to Booboo for bringing a smile to my day with clitter:

Sunday, January 17, 2010

JACK's Self Aware

I've taken to making a whole to of changes at the same time. And it seems like one of those New Year's Resolutions gone Wild, but not one thing is based on the calendar year. It's coincidental, at best. What's NOT coincidental is the fact that I'm indeed doing it all at once. Let me talk about two of them:

I Quit Smoking
When my daughter wrote "For my Family to Quit Smoking" on her little note and put it under the tree before she went to bed Christmas eve, I thought I might cry. I could just picture her writing it and really wanting me to not be a smoker. I remembered how I wanted the same thing for my mother when I was a kid and how I longed for her to quit and how she now has emphysema and is certain to succumb to it eventually ... it really struck a chord.

Once, some time between fifth and eighth grade, I took The Great America Smokeout a little bit too seriously. When I came home from school I hid all the smoking paraphernalia: cigs, lighters, matches, ashtrays ... EVERYTHING. Sometime after nightfall and before bedtime, my mother walked up to me while I was lying on the floor and grabbed my shirt collar, lifted me up off the floor a little bit and made it abundantly clear that I was soon to meet my maker if she didn't get all her stuff back. Hey - at least she made it until after dark.

I'm trying to lose weight (again)
In 2006 - I slimmed down pretty good. In fact, I lost 40 pounds! I think I might have overdone it. I probably should have only lost 25. Now that I've gained it all back, that's my goal. 25 pounds. Just so that I don't die and them bastard pallbearers don't complain about how much I fucking weigh. You know how them gays don't respect even the dead and shit ...

Conundrum
Do you know how fucking retarded it is to diet and quit smoking at the same mother fucking time? I mean, to add insult to injury, I'm working on ceasing the tomfoolery dating-ridiculous-dudes-for-the-express-purpose-of-having-something-to-blog-about nonsense that I'm NOT writing about in this post ... and so I can't even put one of THEM in my mouth ... no fucking cigarette, no damn zingers, ho hos, oatmeal cream pies, cartwheels .. or ANYTHING ...

And look, I know what I'm doing. I'm totally aware that I'm doing everything at the same time only because even if I fail at something, I still have other opportunities to find something I've succeeded at ... you know, if I have a cigarette, I can always focus on the fact that I've lost a pound or two ... or, if I hose down a top in Gun Oil, wrap him in cellophane and ride him like it's the last express train to Howard, at least I haven't had a cigarette that day ...

It's maddening that I'm totally aware of it and am still brain-fucking myself and I'm letting it work. That's some crazy shit, I swear. But let a FYNE nigga come up to me offering to face fuck me while I pump iron and totally condoning my having an afterglow cigarette to get the taste out my mouth ... and he might just get the best workin-off-all-this-tension sex he wants and more.

YEAH - I said it. AND what, mfer ... AND what?


Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Top Ten lists a la JACK

Top Ten Reasons Obama Should Address Race Issues


10. Are you fucking kidding me? He’s the fucking President. Can the man BE President first? Then he can take up race issues about what it was like to be the first Black President and how race impacted him and his office and what his views were as those issues arose and blah blah blah. This whole fucking notion that he should talk about it because he IS President totally undermines the actual job of BEING the President. Isn’t his plate already fucking full? I mean, you know what … Haiti – stop bitching. It’s just an earthquake. President Obama got a roundtable with Al Sharpton – he ain’t time for this shit.





Top Ten Ways to Fuck Up late Night


10.Remove Jay Leno

9. Replace him with Conan

8. Replace Conan with Jimmy Falon

7. Make up a creepy show for Jay at 10pm

6. Watch ratings plummet

5. Convene a meeting

4. Start talking shit that you’re gonna shake things up

3. Watch Conan murder you on live TV

2. Watch Letterman stew that he STILL isn’t getting The Tonight Show

1. Have FOX get interested in Conan



Top Ten Bitch Ass Punks in Women’s Sports


10.Mark Mcgwire

9.Mark Mcgwire

8.Mark Mcgwire

7.Mark Mcgwire

6.Mark Mcgwire

5.Mark Mcgwire

4.Mark Mcgwire

3.Mark Mcgwire

2.Mark Mcgwire

1.Mark Mcgwire

Monday, January 11, 2010

Movin' on up

Since sometime last summer - July I think - I have been crashing on my friend's couch in the big chi. I'm not sure what possessed me to think I could carry the rent for a 1-BR apartment in Chicago, while I kept a mortgage and a second mortgage in Indianapolis, but I tried it. And it fuckin' TRIED me, ok? When that one-year lease was over, I was through. I wasn't sure what my next step was going to be, but I had been all over craigslist looking for someone renting a room because $800 in rent per month was not working for me.

So, my friend offered me his couch in his one-bedroom. I considered this, and since I'm in Chicago half-time MAYBE ... and I kinda have an affinity for sleeping on my own couch anyway ... I said what the hey. And for the most part, it's been a good set up. In the interest of preserving the friendship we have, I won't go into any details about my decision to move out, but as I told him ... I value our friendship, and we're cool and will be cool after I move. However, if I stay much longer, we may not be cool for very long and I seriously would rather figure something else out than damage a friendship. Plain. And simple, too.

During that conversation he asked me if I knew when I would stat looking for a place. I lied and said I wasn't sure. He suggested I start looking in March. I knew he suggested that because his lease is up in April and he wants to move out of that apartment. I don't blame him. Why?


This here picture represents more water than came out of the faucet this mroning when I turned on the hot water. Right - piss poor. And the heat wasn't on ... turned off sometime during the night and I was chilly ... the to-the-bone kind of chilly and I really wanted a warm shower. Yet, not an option.

That pretty much sealed the deal. I had had dinner this past weekend with another friend, who owns a 3BR condo and considered a roommate situation before. He's still up for it and we talked about things and it seems like it will work out. I told him that I would make a decision this week. However, after the heat-less, shower-less morning I had? I negotiated a 3-month trial with him. I'll give my roommate my one month notice this week when I give him his rent money. I'll probably be out of there sooner, though. Dude's condo is furnished ... with a bed!

Funny part of this is that yesterday my current roommate told me he saw this apartment he really liked on craigslist and sent an email to the owner about it, asking if anything would be available in April, he'd be interested. That struck me, because this is the same dude who suggested *I* look for a place starting in March. Did you catch that? Right - so did I. I told him all sorts of good things ... like good for him and it sounds like what he really wants out of an apartment, and I'm genuinely glad he's dealing with it. And I'm genuinely letting go of the fact that he told me to wait until March while he went looking for something himself.


Surprise! I've already got one.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Santa's a Bitch

My daughter wrote out a Christmas list on Christmas eve, a list in addition to the one she already had. She wanted Santa to replace a broken DS and put that under the tree. A fair exchanged, she thought. When everyone was asleep, I picked up all the stuff she left under the tree and hid it in my bag. When I got to Chicago and unpacked it, there it was ... written on the back of her list ... in HER handwriting: "For my family to stop smoking."

Clearly, it tugged on my heart strings. I've been smoking since I was 18 ... their mom came down with breast cancer and is only just now having her hair grow back from all the chemo ... and my kids are kinda freaked out. So, I made the decision to buy patches instead of a carton of cigarettes. I'm currently on day 3 without a cigarette. My last one was on Monday evening.

So, I've got this pair of hand grips and I keep them in my coat pocket. I'm totally exercising the fuck out those things because withdrawal symptoms are a bitch and a half. I'm on edge, folks - on edge.

This here quitting is like Death by Patch, and I blame Santa. That fuckface is making me about to check into a methadone clinic on account of the fact that I am a big time addict. I mean, I knew I liked to smoke ... but the gravity of my addiction? I had no idea. LET a monther fucker say something stupid to me ... I'm all about it, dammit.

That coworker of mine who came out his face at me today? I haven't been THAT close to losing it at work ... EVER. I held it in as best I could ... and then headed to my hand grips to pump away like a maniac.

I'm told this last about a week before it gets better. It's probably a good thing I chose Monday so that I'm not like this during the weekend. But, suffice it to say ... Santa is a cunt.