(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

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 ...

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!

My New Idol

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.

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

Why yes. Yes, I do.

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

Clitter me this!

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

Dumb Bitch

Robots Slay Me

John was a salesman's delight when it came to any kind of unusual gimmicks. His
wife Marsha had long ago given up trying to get him to change.

One day John came home with another one of his unusual purchases. It was a
robot that John claimed was actually a lie detector.

It was about 5:30 that afternoon when Tommy, their 12 year old son, returned
home from school. Tommy was over 2 hours late.

"Where have you been? Why are you over 2 hours late getting home?" asked John.

"Several of us went to the library to work on an extra credit project," said
Tommy.

The robot walked around the table and slapped Tommy, knocking him completely out
of his chair.

"Son," said John, "this robot is a lie detector, now tell us where you really
were after school."

"We went to Bobby's house and watched a movie." said Tommy.

"What did you watch?" asked Marsha.

"The Ten Commandments," answered Tommy.

The robot went around to Tommy and once again slapped him, knocking him off his
chair. With his lip quivering, Tommy got up, sat down and said, "I am sorry I
lied. We really watched a tape called Sex Queen."

"I am ashamed of you son," said John. "When I was your age, I never lied to my
parents."

The robot walked around to John and delivered a whack that nearly knocked him
out of his chair.

Marsha doubled over in laughter, almost in tears and said, "Boy, did you ever
ask for that one! You can't be too mad with Tommy. After all, he is your son!"

The robot walked around to Marsha and knocked her out of her chair.

AYFKM?!?

Are You Fucking Kidding Me?
This is an honest to God REAL message sent to me on Adam

is ok i didint mean to be rude imsorry papi i like you andi loved to host manwhats yoru number name and email XXXXXXhere yoaure sosexy cute maculiemahco iwnate dyou love dthat face alotand sorry for typosi recentlyhad catarts eye surgery is healign ilivenorthXXXXXXand XXXXXXandyou iloved thsoe eyes andibet you youarea ana wesoemhugger kiserand imsure abig huge fr shootercorrect i loved to invite youvoer iamofthrusdyapmaftenon whas yorunaenubmer email loved to trade new pics i amas wela film director writerandphotogrpaerh fro 25 years doignthre filsm and two boks oneofmy booksishow tmeet guysinteh internetpapi XXXXXXhere emailedmemore more pcis to XXXXXXXXX@hotmail.comimsorryifisouded rude i didntmeantoidolieteh ruels ihoepwecnamet sexy loved to see you witha footabljersyeandcapmanwof XXXXX very sincerely


Obviously, I've omitted his name and the cross streets of his nearest intersection ... but if you come across a book on how "tmeet guyinteh internet," JACK suggests you save your money. He'll have people thinking, like he had me thinking, that they remind you of a hamburger. (I think he suspects I'm an awesome hugger? *shrug* ) For the record, he's been blocked.

Coming out of the prayer closet

Reporters Slay Me

Soup to nuts

Life's been a bit hectic as of late - I attribute it to the universe's attack on my endeavor to lose weight. Damn devil. But, yeah - so work has been crazy: CA-RAY-ZEE, ok? This week in particular was busy - my son's birthday, a drive to chicago, three 9+ hour days, a 4 hour day and a drive back to indianapolis ... blah blah blah.

You know how you could handle work if you had one project to do and only one project and that you wouldn't have to deal with another project until this first project is done? How, you wish you could have both kids in sports and they could somehow NOT have their fucking games at the same time? Life never loads evenly ... EVER.




Life is like some Chicago alley dumpster. That's really what I'm trying to say.



A few weeks ago, I packed my bag to go to Chicago. I was in a black/grey mood - so I didn't pack any khaki's, just black dress slacks. All my socks: black. All my draws: black. And my roommate's cat?

WHITE

And this little mother fucker will attack you and literally BITE you ... cuz he's playing. Bitch is still a kitten. Mother fucker bit me pretty good the other day and I find out ... short-haired house cats slide pretty far on hardwood. No, seriously, they do!









But the cat needs some serious home training. I'm about to just tell my roommate that his cat is about to get hisself a lesson. The other day, he was on the dining room table ... roommie asked me to get him down. So, I grabbed a water bottle and sprayed him.

ROOMMATE: That's spray cleaner

ME: oh. well, he's wet now.

You might think I'm being hard on the cat. But I'm not - I'm SOOOO not. Wanna know why?

Because this is my papasan chair.

I mean, look at him. The little bastard all ON my footstool and turns his back to me. He really doesn't give a fuck that there's white cat hair all over the cushion - doesn't care. I'm about to line the footstool padding with double sided masking tape ... When I do - I'll let you know how it goes.

Leroys

A woman walks into the downtown welfare office, trailed by 15 kids.

"WOW," the social worker exclaims, "are they all yours?"

"Ya they are all Mine," the flustered momma sighs, having heard that
Question 20 thousand times before.

She says, "Sit down Leroy." All the children rush to find seats..

"Well,"says the social worker, "then you must be here to sign up. I'll need all your children's names."

Well, to keep it simple, the boys are all named Leroy and the girls are all named Leighroy.

In disbelief, the case worker asks, "Are you serious? They're ALL named Leroy?"

Their momma replied, "Well, yes-it makes it easier..

"When it's time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell,'Leroy!'
An' when it's time for dinner, I just yell 'Leroy!' an they all comes a runnin.

"An' if I need to stop the kid who's running into the street, I just yell Leroy' and all of them stop. It's the smartest idea I ever had, namin' them all Leroy."

The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, "But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch?"

"Then I call them by their last names."

On some grown shit

I believe that part of being an adult is being able to let go of petty things, truly not giving a fuck what people think or say about you and coming to grips with the notion that vengeance is a retarded notion that isn’t really worth your time. The problem with all of this is that you have to keep going through shit in order to prove that you can handle it all like an adult. You know what I mean? Like, you can’t very well know that you’re able to let go of stupid shit unless stupid shit happens to you.

For instance – my friend Shalaria. She’s got some stupid immature beef with me and would rather put me on blast on one social network or another because she mad I’m through with the bitch. That shit don’t make no sense to me – meanwhile …

Bitch makes me laugh. I had no idea I had such an impact or was that important. I really wish she would just get a grip and not give a fuck. Like me – and my grown ass, I don’t give a fuck.

Do you see ME putting her on blast all over blogger? Nooooooooo. No you don’t.

Cuz I can let things go.

Do you see ME trying to get revenge and saying stupid shit about Shalaria? Things like she’s immature and way too concerned about what the fuck I’M doing when she should really just be living her own life? Noooooooo. You don’t.

Cuz I don’t do the whole vengeance thing.

I’m much too grown to be dealing with this nonsense. TOO GROWN.

Do you see me losing sleep over what she’s thinking about me or saying about me or blogging about me or tweeting about me??? Nooooooooo.

But if you hear or read my name come out her mouth, let a nigga know.

Cuz I’m grown.

Ladies, Please

Random steam

Would you steal this bike?

I laughed out loud when i walked outside for a smoke and saw this thing tied up in front of the building. I mean, I suppose it's possible that the owner takes the seat with him when he makes his deliveries, but it's not totally out of the realm of possibility that messenger-owner of this bike rides it around downtown Chicago looking just. like. this. It's not. But to see it chained up and looking all decrepit made me smile.

Why are you fucking with me?

Dunkin Donuts has this great new lite and fit and whatever they call it menu where things are 300 calories or less. Starbucks? I walk up to the sign that says "here are some tasty choices that you can feel really good about" and the mother fucker is empty! EMPTY! I just froze and stared. Blank-faced. Increduled, I left - buying nothing.

"HOLY COW" - Phil Rizutto

I'm sorry - this one made me laugh. And I can't WAIT to get JADED's reaction. That marketing campaign was riddled with potential, but I've not seen anything since. I mean, TONS of potential.

There's someone for everyone

Decrepit bike was still there when I went back out for a smoke a little bit later. This time, with a friend. *cue porn music*

(I especially like the two dudes I caught walking across the street as if away from their bikes. And they're strolling touch-close ... which warms my heart ... from laughing so hard)

NO PIC AND NO ETHICS

I can't seem to get work done - and it's not for blogging, because you know I haven't been around much. This process they've got at work is SO inefficient and stupid ... I spent three times as much effort getting things done and then twice THAT amount trying to devise a new process that will work. I'm almost there - 60 more days and this god forsaken process will be OVER.

Until then, I've decided that I need a small Malaysian kid to work for me and help me get this stuff off my desk. S/he would have to hide somewhere in my office and come out ONLY when no one was looking. I'd totally pay $0.02 cents per hour. If s/he gets caught, I get to kick him/her in the face. Fuck ethics - we're in a RECESSION.

There's TOTALLY gotta be a Web site for that, right?

... because I CANT swallow, that's why!

I walked around Sunday feeling a bit under the weather and as the day progressed I felt worse. Driving back to Chicago that night was awful. My entire body was achy and I longed for a massage. On Monday morning, I woke up feeling like I'd rather be forced to watch The View than swallow. And I knew I needed to see the doctor ... post haste!

So, I find an immediate care facility near my job and take the train in. If it's a viral infection, I'm just going into work, I figured. So, the nurse gets this q-tip the size of a Louisville Slugger and gags the fuck out of me.

WOMAN! How the fuck long you gotta be back there!

And with tears rolling down my face, I pull away. And do you know what this cunt says to me? Do you KNOW?

"I need to get the other side"

The OTHER side? Dear LAWD, the other side of what? My NECK!?

So, I let her go back there again and we repeat the whole process. I *promise* you the sadistic sonofabitch was doing it just for kicks.

And sure enough - it's STREP. The dreaded strep throat.

The doctor tells me that that's likely where my loss of appetite was coming from.

JACK THINKING: "what loss of appetite? who told this crackhead I lost my appetite. All i do is eat! I've got the spare tire to prove it

JACK IN REAL LIFE: "OOOHHHH"

*shrug* whatever, doc. You're akin to Jesus - blahblahblah - you saved my life - wahwahwahwahwahwah - what would I do without you - yuhyuhyuh

JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING SCRIPT.

So, although I'm feeling much better, it still feels funny when I swallow. Apparently, I'm no longer contagious, but there's still DEAD shit clinging to my tonsils with tentacles like octopuses or something.

It's quite the visual - I wish Jaded were here to draw a picture for me. She's a much better artist that she is a singer. Just ask N.

Laugh With Me (again)