Friday, July 19, 2013
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
LEMON GREEN BUS
Monday
June 24
23:08
If I hadn’t “run” into a certain “sad” reminder on wheels, I pro’ly wouldn’t be writin’ this blog entry. Yeah, sad reminder but then again, it depends on where you’re standin’, you know, the angle from where you’re lookin’ at it.
16:16
I had jus’ walked of a fast-food joint wit’ a grateful belly and a tongue that won’t stop lickin’ a pair of contented lips. Lost in the festivity goin’ in my tummy, I’d put a foot on the road after a quick left glance for on comin’ vehicles. Two steps in, a lemon green bus out of nowhere (it seemed so) had scamperin’ me back to the curb (concernin’ the color, don’t take my word for it; sometimes my sense of color is a little bi-polar-ish).
I collected my scattered breaths jus’ in time to read what was written on the vehicle. It was some company’s bus and the name was boldly splashed on all its sides (the sides I could see). Name so bold even a visually impaired person could see. it felt like some kind of in-your-face proclamation.
Jus’ before the bus sped out of sight; those ubiquitous inscriptions seemed to scream above the din of the rapidly building homebound traffic, “You’ll need us someday.” I looked around to see if anybody else heard what I jus’ heard. Of course nobody did. I was vergin’ on crazy.
It wasn’t until I’d safely crossed the road that it hit me, I’d seen this particular lemon green bus before…
A Week Earlier
Tuesday
June 18
11:45
It was almost mid day and sky wore patches of gray here and there. The weather was between 17-20 degrees jus’ like the weatherman predicted the night before.
We’d all jus’ arrived at the expansive neighborhood where a different kinda of festivity was about to take place. I stood in the back, a couple of feet from the folks who were seated under the small tent. I was dressed in black (all black everythin’ like a certain Jay Z would say). I had my black scarf over my face Arabian-style and that drew a few inquisitive glances. It was a cold cold dry day, what was a brotha supposed to do, huh?
11:52
Some woman with her baby strapped to her chest (chest to chest) played wit’ the tiny tot. I got a good view of the baby’s face from where I was and the lil’ man seemed like he wanted to holla at me and y’all know what they say “No matter how badass you are, when a baby hands you a toy telephone, you better answer it”. With those very wise words in mind, I started makin’ funny faces and hand gestures at the kid and that kinda got a laugh and a lot of drools out of him. The mother turned her head to see what was so amusin’, I looked away.
The next few minutes I occupied myself wit’ lookin’ around and readin’ some of the names of the “landlords” in that neighborhood. Names like Duncan, Fredrick, Chanda and so on were etched on granite “doors”.
12:17
I was back to amusin’ the kid from my arm’s length position in the back of the gatherin’ and the baby was lovin’ every minute and I was lovin’ it too until the first shovel full of dirt landed on the casket with a soft thud and bevy of women plunged into a dirge. Quickly, I put on a somber look like the rest of folks at the burial ground and looked on as the remains of the newly departed got covered in soil.
12:30
As we headed to where the cars were packed, I noticed that hearse that brought the corpse was actually a bus (not the conventional hearse Hollywood made me believe was the be-all) but then again, who says a hearse has to be a limo or a station wagon?
Was the hearse the same vehicle that almost knocked me down a week later? Yep, you already guessed it. You smart people!
Outro
My close shave wit’ the hearse got me thinkin’ about death and dying. And nah, am not thinkin’ about this in the am-scared-of-dying sort of way. I’m lookin’ at from the goin’-away-and-no-misses-you kinda angle. I’m talkin’ about folks not noticin’ that you’re not around and that my friends, is the real tragedy.
June 24
23:08
If I hadn’t “run” into a certain “sad” reminder on wheels, I pro’ly wouldn’t be writin’ this blog entry. Yeah, sad reminder but then again, it depends on where you’re standin’, you know, the angle from where you’re lookin’ at it.
16:16
I had jus’ walked of a fast-food joint wit’ a grateful belly and a tongue that won’t stop lickin’ a pair of contented lips. Lost in the festivity goin’ in my tummy, I’d put a foot on the road after a quick left glance for on comin’ vehicles. Two steps in, a lemon green bus out of nowhere (it seemed so) had scamperin’ me back to the curb (concernin’ the color, don’t take my word for it; sometimes my sense of color is a little bi-polar-ish).
I collected my scattered breaths jus’ in time to read what was written on the vehicle. It was some company’s bus and the name was boldly splashed on all its sides (the sides I could see). Name so bold even a visually impaired person could see. it felt like some kind of in-your-face proclamation.
Jus’ before the bus sped out of sight; those ubiquitous inscriptions seemed to scream above the din of the rapidly building homebound traffic, “You’ll need us someday.” I looked around to see if anybody else heard what I jus’ heard. Of course nobody did. I was vergin’ on crazy.
It wasn’t until I’d safely crossed the road that it hit me, I’d seen this particular lemon green bus before…
A Week Earlier
Tuesday
June 18
11:45
It was almost mid day and sky wore patches of gray here and there. The weather was between 17-20 degrees jus’ like the weatherman predicted the night before.
We’d all jus’ arrived at the expansive neighborhood where a different kinda of festivity was about to take place. I stood in the back, a couple of feet from the folks who were seated under the small tent. I was dressed in black (all black everythin’ like a certain Jay Z would say). I had my black scarf over my face Arabian-style and that drew a few inquisitive glances. It was a cold cold dry day, what was a brotha supposed to do, huh?
11:52
Some woman with her baby strapped to her chest (chest to chest) played wit’ the tiny tot. I got a good view of the baby’s face from where I was and the lil’ man seemed like he wanted to holla at me and y’all know what they say “No matter how badass you are, when a baby hands you a toy telephone, you better answer it”. With those very wise words in mind, I started makin’ funny faces and hand gestures at the kid and that kinda got a laugh and a lot of drools out of him. The mother turned her head to see what was so amusin’, I looked away.
The next few minutes I occupied myself wit’ lookin’ around and readin’ some of the names of the “landlords” in that neighborhood. Names like Duncan, Fredrick, Chanda and so on were etched on granite “doors”.
12:17
I was back to amusin’ the kid from my arm’s length position in the back of the gatherin’ and the baby was lovin’ every minute and I was lovin’ it too until the first shovel full of dirt landed on the casket with a soft thud and bevy of women plunged into a dirge. Quickly, I put on a somber look like the rest of folks at the burial ground and looked on as the remains of the newly departed got covered in soil.
12:30
As we headed to where the cars were packed, I noticed that hearse that brought the corpse was actually a bus (not the conventional hearse Hollywood made me believe was the be-all) but then again, who says a hearse has to be a limo or a station wagon?
Was the hearse the same vehicle that almost knocked me down a week later? Yep, you already guessed it. You smart people!
Outro
My close shave wit’ the hearse got me thinkin’ about death and dying. And nah, am not thinkin’ about this in the am-scared-of-dying sort of way. I’m lookin’ at from the goin’-away-and-no-misses-you kinda angle. I’m talkin’ about folks not noticin’ that you’re not around and that my friends, is the real tragedy.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
LOLLIPOP
Once Upon A
Time Day: forgotten
Time: unknown
Ohh. Hmm.
From my slouched position on the sofa, I moaned wordless melodies. Ooh ahh. Every hair constituting my stubbornly shaggy afro were standin’ straight and screamin’ hallelujah. My skin sprouted goose bumps that could be seen from the international space station. All kinds of chemical reaction were goin’ inside me and this was even more evident in thetwitches in my cojones.
Ooh ahh.
I inhaled and closed my eyes momentarily. I could taste lust on my mouth. I opened my eyes jus’ in time to see a precious pair of honey brown full lips envelope the pleasure giver she held in her hand. If lickin’ was a study, this woman deserves a master’s degree in the art.
Ooh ahh.
I’d always fancied myself as a man with an above average self-control. I’d thought my strength of mind was gettin’ solid as steel but the moment her bubble gum tongue touched the “head,” all self control melted away like a molten! It was like somebody force opened my every hair follicle in my body and poured hot passion in ‘em, I felt it in the Main Vein. Lawd, self control fuckin’ walked on me like a bitch would on a faithful partner! It’s one of those oh-my-god jaws-on-the-floor moments.
Monday
June 10
23:28
Uh huh Young Dobsy Baby
You’re so sweet make me wanna lick the wrapper
So I let her lick the wrapper
She lick me like a lollipop
I can’t remember the last time I heard Lil Wayne’s lollipop on the radio or anywhere else for that matter but today I have a need to slide it on, kick back on the couch and actually listen to what Tunechi was really sayin’ on that track. Do I really need to listen? Nah, I already know the song wasn’t about lollipop,p same way 50cent’s candy shop wasn’t about candies
Saturday ?
June ?7
0??1:57
The incredible Mr. Darling
I came across somethin’ that got me thinkin’ about tits and milk and everythin’ mammary. Okay you got me there; thoughts of boobs are never far from my mind. Go ahead and cast me into eternal life of boob-tendin’.
Anyways, I read that Mr. Darling did an off the record survey of his friend’s kids’ behavior. He noticed that breast milk calmed the little rascals down. From that moment on he knew he had to capture that flavor. With the help of some breastfeeding mothers, who “kept sharing their breast milk with our flavor specialists until we were able to candify it”
Outro
Shawty wanna thug
Bottles in the club
Shawty wanna hump
You know I like to touch your lovely lady lumps
Okay, let’s bring all these talks about lollipops, lickin’ and tits home and put all the hoo-ah to rest. While we’re at it, somebody run go tell Lil Wayne that the prophecy has been fulfilled.
We (all tits lovin’ men worldwide) can now have shawty and her lovely lady lump to ourselves without havin’ to stoop so low to the level of draggin’ boobs wit lil’ babies. The breast milk-flavored lollipops are here, ladies and gentlemen! But wait, these lil breast milk on stick will cost ya $2.5 a pop…that’s $10 for a pack of four, a dozen for $24 and a case of 36 for $58 but if you want free shipping, use the code MAMMALS. Ah ha!
Working mothers or those of y’all afraid your precious lil’ boobs might sag from sucking and shit, throw that tiny tot a breast milk-flavored lollipop. Now go ahead give a thank you wiggle of your tits to Lollyphile founder Jason Darling for comin’ up wit this life-changing invention.
Tuesday
June 11
01:52
Huh, we should circle back to the intro and all that blowjobin’? Nah, I was jus’ spinnin’ ostentatious yarns and sellin’ your asses nighttime daydreams, or am i?
Time Day: forgotten
Time: unknown
Ohh. Hmm.
From my slouched position on the sofa, I moaned wordless melodies. Ooh ahh. Every hair constituting my stubbornly shaggy afro were standin’ straight and screamin’ hallelujah. My skin sprouted goose bumps that could be seen from the international space station. All kinds of chemical reaction were goin’ inside me and this was even more evident in thetwitches in my cojones.
Ooh ahh.
I inhaled and closed my eyes momentarily. I could taste lust on my mouth. I opened my eyes jus’ in time to see a precious pair of honey brown full lips envelope the pleasure giver she held in her hand. If lickin’ was a study, this woman deserves a master’s degree in the art.
Ooh ahh.
I’d always fancied myself as a man with an above average self-control. I’d thought my strength of mind was gettin’ solid as steel but the moment her bubble gum tongue touched the “head,” all self control melted away like a molten! It was like somebody force opened my every hair follicle in my body and poured hot passion in ‘em, I felt it in the Main Vein. Lawd, self control fuckin’ walked on me like a bitch would on a faithful partner! It’s one of those oh-my-god jaws-on-the-floor moments.
Monday
June 10
23:28
Uh huh Young Dobsy Baby
You’re so sweet make me wanna lick the wrapper
So I let her lick the wrapper
She lick me like a lollipop
I can’t remember the last time I heard Lil Wayne’s lollipop on the radio or anywhere else for that matter but today I have a need to slide it on, kick back on the couch and actually listen to what Tunechi was really sayin’ on that track. Do I really need to listen? Nah, I already know the song wasn’t about lollipop,p same way 50cent’s candy shop wasn’t about candies
Saturday ?
June ?7
0??1:57
The incredible Mr. Darling
I came across somethin’ that got me thinkin’ about tits and milk and everythin’ mammary. Okay you got me there; thoughts of boobs are never far from my mind. Go ahead and cast me into eternal life of boob-tendin’.
Anyways, I read that Mr. Darling did an off the record survey of his friend’s kids’ behavior. He noticed that breast milk calmed the little rascals down. From that moment on he knew he had to capture that flavor. With the help of some breastfeeding mothers, who “kept sharing their breast milk with our flavor specialists until we were able to candify it”
Outro
Shawty wanna thug
Bottles in the club
Shawty wanna hump
You know I like to touch your lovely lady lumps
Okay, let’s bring all these talks about lollipops, lickin’ and tits home and put all the hoo-ah to rest. While we’re at it, somebody run go tell Lil Wayne that the prophecy has been fulfilled.
We (all tits lovin’ men worldwide) can now have shawty and her lovely lady lump to ourselves without havin’ to stoop so low to the level of draggin’ boobs wit lil’ babies. The breast milk-flavored lollipops are here, ladies and gentlemen! But wait, these lil breast milk on stick will cost ya $2.5 a pop…that’s $10 for a pack of four, a dozen for $24 and a case of 36 for $58 but if you want free shipping, use the code MAMMALS. Ah ha!
Working mothers or those of y’all afraid your precious lil’ boobs might sag from sucking and shit, throw that tiny tot a breast milk-flavored lollipop. Now go ahead give a thank you wiggle of your tits to Lollyphile founder Jason Darling for comin’ up wit this life-changing invention.
Tuesday
June 11
01:52
Huh, we should circle back to the intro and all that blowjobin’? Nah, I was jus’ spinnin’ ostentatious yarns and sellin’ your asses nighttime daydreams, or am i?
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
EGO-PHALLIC MASSAGE
Today
Monday
3 June
12:26
I’m goin’ to kick this piece off wit’ a half-assed “all persons fictitious disclaimer,” you know, jus’ like they do it in films.
Here it goes…“All characters appearin’ in this blog entry are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, livin’ or dead is purely a product of your hyperactive mind.”
Did you take note of the part that says “your hyperactive mind?” you did? That’s good.
But why “an all person disclaimer” though?
Well, am goin’ to tell a little story about somethin’ am sure all men have experienced (and still experiencin’) though only a few men will actually own up. Did I say “all men?” hmm, ok scratch that and replace it “most men.”
So you see, some folks might start gettin’ ideas like, Dobs is a world famous blogger and might wanna hit my ass wit’ a case in the court of law for tellin’ the world what they already know. And may be, jus’ may be hopin’ they’ll knock me for a cool million dollars settlement while they’re at it.
Ah! Imaginin’ myself a famous and sueable blogger is good for my ego.
Talkin’ about Ego, somehow Kanye West’s gem on Beyonce’s Ego (remix) always comes to mind
…coulda been anywhere in the world but you’re here with me
That’s good for my ego, ha ha, me and my ego
And he go everywhere we go
My ego is my imaginary friend
He was wit me when I was only imagining…
Yesterday
Sunday
2 June
18:10
I stood there at Ster Kinekor Cinema contemplatin’ whether to go in and watch Furious 6 in 2D or go to the other cinema and see it in 3D.
I know you’re thinkin’, “Did he bump his head or somethin’ ‘cause that film was never made in 3D” what was I thinkin’!
I know what I was thinking; it was the little loot in my back pocket that got me thinkin’ crazy. See, I’d jus successfully harassed and gotten some money from some dude who owed me and that kinda lifted my spirit. So there I was, immersed in my own world, checkin’ out movie posters on the wall when I heard, “am glad I fucked her when I had the chance”
Now that got my attention. My neck turned swiftly of its own accord and two guys in their mid twenties (I assume) fell into focus, jus’ a breath away from me. The one who was glad he fucked her when he had the chance had the look of somebody who’s jus’ got his ego freshly bruised.
I didn’t have to listen to the rest of the convo between those two; it’s somethin’ I’ve heard before, in another place and time…
2008
August
17:52
I was kickin’ it wit’ a friend of mine in front of his crib and he’d jus’ told me how his girl (or as at that moment, ex girlfriend) had left his ass for some guy who was playin’ professional football (soccer) in Belgium. Shawtie found herself a gold pit and she went headfirst without as much as a backward glance at my friend
My boy was hurtin’ but he put a Steven Seagal face on it. I saw through that mask though. Matter of fact, the mask slipped when he said, “Imagine how I would’ve felt I didn’t test that pussy.” I wanted to say it doesn’t make any difference but I ain’t never been a party pooper, nah I ain’t the one who wouldn’t let a friend “enjoy” his moment of pain.
Love/lust lost or kicked out the door is always a painful thing no matter who you are. And when shit like that happens, there’s the tendency for a brotha to try and rationalize things, especially when he’s around his boys, by massagin’ his own ego wit’ stuffs like, “it woulda been painful if I didn’t hit that pussy,” “it was all about the pussy, anyways” and blah blah.
A broken (hearted) man is never a pretty sight.
Most male have gone through or are still goin’ through that stage of ego-phallic massaging (ego-phallic massage…hmm, my father gotta be proud of me for inventin’ this shit). Ladies, ask around and let me know what you find.
By the way, it might interest y’all to know that there was no happily ever-after for the girl. Mr. Ballplayer kicked girlfriend to the curb in record time. Now that’s the stuff of a bitter winter in Siberia, isn’t it?
Outro
The truth of the matter is, no matter how many times one fucked a pussy, or had sex with a woman or as the bible would put it, “know a woman,” it wouldn’t diminish the pain one feels if that woman leaves ones’ ass (for another man) if one genuinely feel somethin’ for that woman.
Huh, what if she leaves you for another woman?
Umm, I wouldn’t know how that feels. I’ve not been to the bridge yet.
Monday
3 June
12:26
I’m goin’ to kick this piece off wit’ a half-assed “all persons fictitious disclaimer,” you know, jus’ like they do it in films.
Here it goes…“All characters appearin’ in this blog entry are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, livin’ or dead is purely a product of your hyperactive mind.”
Did you take note of the part that says “your hyperactive mind?” you did? That’s good.
But why “an all person disclaimer” though?
Well, am goin’ to tell a little story about somethin’ am sure all men have experienced (and still experiencin’) though only a few men will actually own up. Did I say “all men?” hmm, ok scratch that and replace it “most men.”
So you see, some folks might start gettin’ ideas like, Dobs is a world famous blogger and might wanna hit my ass wit’ a case in the court of law for tellin’ the world what they already know. And may be, jus’ may be hopin’ they’ll knock me for a cool million dollars settlement while they’re at it.
Ah! Imaginin’ myself a famous and sueable blogger is good for my ego.
Talkin’ about Ego, somehow Kanye West’s gem on Beyonce’s Ego (remix) always comes to mind
…coulda been anywhere in the world but you’re here with me
That’s good for my ego, ha ha, me and my ego
And he go everywhere we go
My ego is my imaginary friend
He was wit me when I was only imagining…
Yesterday
Sunday
2 June
18:10
I stood there at Ster Kinekor Cinema contemplatin’ whether to go in and watch Furious 6 in 2D or go to the other cinema and see it in 3D.
I know you’re thinkin’, “Did he bump his head or somethin’ ‘cause that film was never made in 3D” what was I thinkin’!
I know what I was thinking; it was the little loot in my back pocket that got me thinkin’ crazy. See, I’d jus successfully harassed and gotten some money from some dude who owed me and that kinda lifted my spirit. So there I was, immersed in my own world, checkin’ out movie posters on the wall when I heard, “am glad I fucked her when I had the chance”
Now that got my attention. My neck turned swiftly of its own accord and two guys in their mid twenties (I assume) fell into focus, jus’ a breath away from me. The one who was glad he fucked her when he had the chance had the look of somebody who’s jus’ got his ego freshly bruised.
I didn’t have to listen to the rest of the convo between those two; it’s somethin’ I’ve heard before, in another place and time…
2008
August
17:52
I was kickin’ it wit’ a friend of mine in front of his crib and he’d jus’ told me how his girl (or as at that moment, ex girlfriend) had left his ass for some guy who was playin’ professional football (soccer) in Belgium. Shawtie found herself a gold pit and she went headfirst without as much as a backward glance at my friend
My boy was hurtin’ but he put a Steven Seagal face on it. I saw through that mask though. Matter of fact, the mask slipped when he said, “Imagine how I would’ve felt I didn’t test that pussy.” I wanted to say it doesn’t make any difference but I ain’t never been a party pooper, nah I ain’t the one who wouldn’t let a friend “enjoy” his moment of pain.
Love/lust lost or kicked out the door is always a painful thing no matter who you are. And when shit like that happens, there’s the tendency for a brotha to try and rationalize things, especially when he’s around his boys, by massagin’ his own ego wit’ stuffs like, “it woulda been painful if I didn’t hit that pussy,” “it was all about the pussy, anyways” and blah blah.
A broken (hearted) man is never a pretty sight.
Most male have gone through or are still goin’ through that stage of ego-phallic massaging (ego-phallic massage…hmm, my father gotta be proud of me for inventin’ this shit). Ladies, ask around and let me know what you find.
By the way, it might interest y’all to know that there was no happily ever-after for the girl. Mr. Ballplayer kicked girlfriend to the curb in record time. Now that’s the stuff of a bitter winter in Siberia, isn’t it?
Outro
The truth of the matter is, no matter how many times one fucked a pussy, or had sex with a woman or as the bible would put it, “know a woman,” it wouldn’t diminish the pain one feels if that woman leaves ones’ ass (for another man) if one genuinely feel somethin’ for that woman.
Huh, what if she leaves you for another woman?
Umm, I wouldn’t know how that feels. I’ve not been to the bridge yet.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
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