“Who Cares” by Gnarles Barkley

basically i’m complicated
i have a hard time taking the easy way
i wouldn’t call it schitzophrenia
but i’ll be at least 2 people today

if that’s ok

and i could go on and on and on
but who cares

its deep how you can be so shallow
and i’m afraid cause i have no fear
and i didn’t believe in magic
until i watched you disappear

i wish you were here

and i could go on and on and on
but who cares

you see everybody is somebody
but nobody wants to be themselves
and if i ever wanted to understand me
i’d have to talk to someone else

cause every little bit helps

and i could go on and on and on
but who cares

it feels like
the surreal life
but its still nice
wish i could live twice
and i still might
if these won’t heal right
i see a little light
even though its still night

and i could go on and on and on
but who cares

“Hey Love” by Stevie Wonder

Hey love
May I have a word with you?
I’d like to tell you, yeah
Just what I’ve been going through
My nights are so long
As I watch each hour go by
Hoping and praying
That someday I will be your guy

Hey love
You’re my one true soul desire
Hey love, baby
Can you feel this burning fire

Hey love
There’s one thing I find so true
When you are near me
I go through a change or two
Hearing your footsteps
I hurry to catch your eye
And I stand there waiting, yeah
But girl, you just walk on by

Say love
With a cold heart you are dealing
Hey love, yeah
It’s an awful hurting feeling

Hey love
Don’t pass me without some sign
Just look me over, yeah
You might want to change your mind

here she is, Miss Missing

I know I’m scarce, but I had to share this picture. I had to work a couple of hours over last night. By the time I got out of here, it was getting dark so I chose to take a cab to the train station. Tell my why bruh-man had tv’s in the cab, playing a dvd of videos! In this pic, check out “Lean with it, Rock with it”. After a hearty laugh, I asked the enterprising gentleman what the deal was with the tv’s and the Vibe magazines and such. He told me “Some people go a long way, they need to be entertained”. So I asked him for a bottle of water. He looked at me crazy. I told him that when I used to take a towncar service to work, they used to provide all of the daily newspapers along with water and coffee. “So where’s my water?” “Sorry Miss, you don’t get water on a $3.00 fare”. Damn. *L*

Hip Hop Cab 3Hip Hop Cab 2Hip Hop Cab

Hypothetically by Lyfe Jennings f/Fantasia

1st Verse (Lyfe):
What if I broke our monogamous agreement
What if I told you I lied but didn’t mean it
What if my one mistake
had the potential to break
up our happy home
Would you wanna know
What if I confessed it and though she didn’t mean nothing since it happened
You’re thinking about leaving
What if I suppressed it
and made a vow to never mess with another
Is it cool for me to smother the facts
Is it cool for me to cover my tracks
if you’d never know
Or would me not being honest hurt you more

Hypothetically of course
Are there some things better left unsaid
Or would you wanna know instead
Hypothetically of course
Are there some wars not worth fighting
Some tears not worth crying out
Hypothetically of course
What if this happened to you
what would you want me to do

2nd Verse (Fantasia):
Well what if I told you that I had a confession
What if I said four years ago when we were arguing
he came to comfort me and I wound up pregnant
And I just can’t say for sure
if the baby’s yours
What if I confessed it and it turns out not to be your baby after you get tested
And it destroys what we’ve been blessed with
What if I suppress it ’cause technically you’re the baby’s daddy anyway
Is it wrong for me to want you to stay
Would you rather have me tear you away
From the only, family you know
Or is this just too big a secret to keep it on the low

Hypothetically of course
Are there some things better left unsaid
Or would you wanna know instead
Hypothetically of course
Are there some wars not worth fighting
Some tears not worth crying out
Hypothetically of course
What if this happened to you
what would you want me to do

Would you wanna know
Would you wanna know
Tell me what you’d do
Would you walk away or would you stay
Would you wanna know
Would you wanna leave the past behind us
Or are you afraid that one day it might find us
Would it even matter
Could it even matter
Should it even matter
Hypothetically of course

buried under clutter…

everyone knows that Tif and I subscribe to a rack of magazines. we used to have a glass coffee table with a crack in it. in a stroke of creativity, we started covering the entire table with all of our magazines to cover the crack. it became apparent that our friends detested the magazine collection, but in an act of solidarity we basically said “fine, stay the hell out of our apartment, and you won’t be subjected to it.” needless to say, most folks shut up talking.
but now we’ve moved on up farther towards the east side. new glass coffee table, same old magazine delimma. Tif keeps the Maxim’s, because when you put an entire year together, the spines form a picture of some half nekkid white girl. i keep the Essence’s because i figure they’ll probably be worth something some day. (we used to know this person that had a huge collection of very old Ebony’s. too bad she was a trick, mighta helped her sell them. *L* now watch her or her minions sneak and read this blog and cackle about that comment for weeks. love it!) but what the heck should we do with the old FHM’s, Glamour, Cosmo (burn it!), Kiplinger’s, Black Enterprise, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stones, etc?

Anybody got any ideas?

From “Big Pimpin” by Snoop Dogg

[Big Pimpin]
I have pimped my pen, on cold Michigan nights
and the bitch didn’t freeze up on me, when I wanted her to write it
I have pimped my pen in the hot California sun
and the bitch didn’t drip, smell, or run
as she turned the trick pages, from looseleaf to zig-zags
I have pimped my pen and she is number one in my stable
for I have yet not got a refill, for her
I love her that’s why she keeps, performing for me
I have pimped my pen… and she is number one, in my stable
Pleasure, is the treasure that the girl sells all day
Pleasure is the reason that she brings daddy his pay
Dedicated the hoe, dedicate for sure
Dripping willows on satin pillows
Love is being checked, from a hoe
Dead presidents still getting their fuck on
I’m so happy because ain’t nothing like a lollipop
that gets sucked, ALL day long
A tangy, little candy drop
I love it when she brings me the pay
Dedicated like everyday… to the sunshine
Yeah my hoe brings me mine
For life she says she’d do it
And I believed her when I accept it
Yeah I got pimp bones in my body
and I rock them, like la-di-da-di
I rock them, mighty hardy, like la-di-da-di
I got pimp bones in my body

back in bidness

*yawn and stretch*

finally! we’re back in business. in the event that you didn’t know and you care, the EverythingSoul blog family has been HURTING for the last month. see, Tif, the quentissential Biggie fan, put up an audio tribute to Biggie on March 9th. The kind folks over at AllHipHop.com put up a link to his tribute generating *major* traffic to his blog. As a result, the bastards that own our web hosting SHUT.IT.DOWN. Ever since its been almost impossible for even us to access our own blogs. Repeated inquiries to the host just served to piss us the hell off. Either they denied noticing any difference in our response time or they suggested that we pay them more money for better serivce. Da hell?

Welp, as many many mofos have discovered over the years, you can’t eff with a black girl with a credit card and ws-ftp. One thing black folks know how to do is leave some shit. Bye bye Doteasy. Hello Dreamhost. It took about 24 hours for the entire switch, a drop in the bucket considering all of the downtime that we’ve had. Plus, when I wrote them mofos at DE and told them we were leaving they had the audacity to ask why. Check your email bruh.

But don’t get to comfortable DreamHost. I’m taking you up on your 97 day money back guarantee on a terabyte (TB) of bandwidth. I’m known for picking up and changing cities. I have no problem with developing a reputation for hosting em and leaving em.

P.S. DreamHost claims to have this hellafied referral program. *shrug* They say they give you $97 for each person that you refer that signs up. Well, out of my $97 reward I’m giving away between $30 and $77, depending on the plan you sign up for. *shrug* What do I have to lose? At least my website works now. LOL Checkout DreamHost. Use promocode “GIMME” for my heckafied discount.

Yeen Kno!!!

i am a terrible person….but of course you know that. whatever couple of a few readers that i mighta have have surely abondoned me cause i’m so lazy that i can’t update my blog on a regular basis. i’m going to get better, really i am. in the meantime i gotta do this recap thing again. as if you care. *sigh*

Thusday, 2/23 was SUPER STYLEWARZ!! I always have such a great time. Congratulations to EJ on his SUPER win. (I am soooo corny, but at least I know it.)

Friday, 2/24th I meant to write about Amazon Prime and ask folks to help me debate on whether I should put out the $79 for a year of *free* 2 day shipping. But I couldn’t get a few minute to write that post. I did take a free minute to cancel that shit tho.

Monday, 2/27th was my older brother’s, (read: cousin) 40th Birthday. Jeez man. Stop aging!

Sunday 3/5 was a pretty perfect day. We had the season’s first “Sunday Social” at our house. Food, folks, and fun. Nothing like a good “the problem with black men/women/relationships” argument over crabs and wine. Later that night Three 6 Mafia made history and did the M-town proud by winning the Oscar for Best Original Song. I’m not sure what was better, the fact that they won the Academy Award or the fact that those hater northern hip hop heads have to suck that shit up and watch America rain accolades on Southern Rap. Just like Dave Chappelle made it ok to refer to folks as “bitches”, Three 6 has stuck the word “pimp” right smack in the middle of right white vernacular. Love it!

Tuesday, 3/7 was Tif and my 5 year anniversary!! I know, that’s like, forever right? Happy Anniversary to my honey and thanks for a great night. (Really honey, we should look up the actual rules to strip poker before next year. Isn’t there some bluffing involved or something?)

This weekend my mother and sister will be visiting from Memphis. They’ll get a presenation on Tif’s dream wedding plans, a tour of the requisite tourist attractions and a little something I like to call “Shoe Shopping Marathon!!!!” WWHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOO!!! (It amazes me how girly I’ve become in the past couple of years.)

same old story, same old song

same old story, same old song

For several weeks I’d been seeing advertisements for that new Sanaa Lathan movie “Something New” in magazines and on tv. I had a vague idea that the movie concerned Lathan being romantically and interracially involved with Matthew Mcconaughey. I also had a vague idea that I had no desire to see the movie. The “interracial thing” just doesn’t interest me. *shrug* I haven’t seen “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner”, nor did I see the reverse comedy “Guess Who”. Sorry, I don’t have enough words to fill even a single paragraph on why I don’t get into it, I just don’t. That’s about it.

It wasn’t until 2 of my girlfriends declared that not only were they going to see it, but that I should see it too because “they” (the studio? the motion picture association of america? the media? black folks? white folks?) had only given the movie 2 weeks to succeed in the box office before it would most likely be pulled for poor performance. We HAD to go and see it, they told me, because the movie was written, produced, and directed by Black women. And that was the kicker for me. Black women doing it for themselves. It goes without saying that I want to support my sisters in every way I can and if that calls for a couple of hours of my Friday night and $8, then let me stand up and be counted. They had convinced me and we set out to see the movie on its second weekend in the box office.

The movie itself wasn’t bad. I’ve heard from other women that it was great, but I’m not really going that far. For a romantic comedy, it wasn’t bad at all. I’ll go so far as saying that it was pretty ok and if you’re considering seeing it, I definitely recommend it. That’s really high praise coming from me.

The problem started however a week and a day later, when Tif, Bill, Bill’s girlfriend Jamie, and myself went to Baltimore’s revival theater The Charles to see a hugely touching documentary called “The Boys of Baraka” (Synopsis: Until recently, each year 20 African-American young men were selected from Baltimore’s inner city schools to attend 7th and 8th grades at the Baraka School in Nairobi, Kenya. The movie begins with the statistic that 76% of African-American males in Baltimore do not graduate from high school. Heart-wrenching. See it if you can.) While stuffing my gloves into my jacket pocket, something that I thought (and now wish) was a meaningless receipt fell to the floor. I reached down to examine it and discovered that it was the debit card receipt and ticket stub from my trip to the Towson Theater the previous weekend. However, both the stub and receipt read in large bold capital letters FINAL DESTINATION 3. I shrieked. People in the lobby turned around to look at me. I whipped out my phone and texed both of my friends. I remembered that I paid for myself and one other person. DAMN! They got us. Twice. One of my girlfriends says that she’s going to call the theater and give them a good what’s what. I shrugged and asked what good that was going to do. It wasn’t going to change the reporting of the numbers.

I remember when there was a big thing amongst the black community concerning the movies of Spike Lee and others and how they were consistently underreported at the box office because of this same type of ticket switching by theaters. A cursory Google search didn’t turn up anything regarding this or any other movie, but I remember that back in the day the ghetto rumor mill always warned us to watch our stubs.

I did find that to date, Something New has grossed about $8.2 million at the box office, a paltry sum that pushed it from #7 its opening weekend, and dropped it to #11 after the second. I mean, of course I don’t think that every theater is doing this. I’m not even sure it wasn’t a mistake on the part of the (young black) man at the ticket office. But it kills me that it could be evidence of a bigger problem. And don’t get me wrong, with movies like Final Destination, Big Mama’s House, and Pink Panther being released around the same time, I doubt if accurate reporting would put Something New much higher than its current rank. But I’m pissed that the sole reason why I went to see the movie was thwarted by some ole extraneous shit. And really now, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Except make you aware.

Oh, by the way, it wasn’t Matthew Mcconaughey at all. It was a look-a-like. I’m sure that its not a coincidence, since Mcconaughey is arguably one of the most attractive white men on any screen today.

One for the record books.

Ah yes, Valentine’s Day has come and gone once again. I heard someone telling stories about the ghosts of Valentine’s day past and decided to revisit mine. Tif and I started…showing interest in one another shortly before VD 2001. At the time, it really was just interest as we both were still *seeing* other people. I know, I know. It was wrong, but hey, the love of your life might not be exactly single when you meet them. What are you gonna do? Anyway…when Cupid Day finally rolled around, both Tif (in Baltimore) and myself (in school in Philly) found ourselves stood up by our not quite significant others. We ended up chatting the night away on AIM and I’m almost positive that Tif still has the logs from that night saved someplace. During the conversation he asked me what gift’s I had gotten that year. I told him that not only had I not received a gift this year, but that I couldn’t recall ever getting a VD gift. He mocked shock and we laughed about it. I think that his stand-up-er ended up calling and that was the end of our convo that night.

The next day, I got a call from my insignificant crack head inviting me to lunch at my then favorite restaurant to try to make up for his inconsiderate behavior the night before. While at lunch with dungboy, I get a text from Tif.

Him: Go and see Shawn in the package room.

What? I’m confused. Da hell is he talking about? The fact that one of the dude’s that worked in my college’s package room really was named Shawn was not lost on me at all. The question was how did Tif know that and what the hell was he talking about?

Me: What?

By now, a hint of smile was starting to appear on my face and all of my attention was focused on my phone while I was waiting on Tif’s reply. The ex-con (as I would later find out he was) was starting to get upset on the other side of the table, as if he somehow knew that whatever was going on at the other end of my phone was quickly panning out to spell his demise **forever**. I vaguely remember him protesting, because really, who the hell cares what he was trying to say. He had stood me up on the most important date night of the year and now he was trying to throw salt in someone else’s game. Bump that!

Tif: Shawn has a package for you.
Me: Really? What is it?
Tif: Go see Shawn and find out.

WHOO!!! A secret surprise gift that had made its way to my package room without my knowledge from my now rapidly growing love interest.

Ole boy: What are you texting on your phone? What’s so interesting?
Me: Oh, nothing. Um, are you done eating? We should get the check.
Ole boy: Why? What’s the hurry? I figured we could go back to your dorm room and spend some time.
Me: Um, didn’t you say you had someplace to be? I distinctly remember you saying you had someplace to be.
Ole boy: I got time.
I fume.

Needless to say, dumbass insisted on coming upstairs to my room. I think I let him watch tv for a good 4 minutes before making up some excuse to boot him out. I remember walking him all the way to the edge of campus before racing back in the absolute opposite direction to hook up with Shawn in my package room. Turns out that Tif had bought me a Blue’s Clues body pillow and had it overnighted to me as my first ever Valentine’s Day gift. Of course there’s a story behind why he got me Blue, but I’ll save that for another time.

Fast forward a few days later. Fophead called to say that he was in the neighborhood and wanted to know if he could come up and visit. I sighed and told him yeah, figuring that I might as well go ahead and put him out of his misery face to face. Blue was laying in the middle of my bed when he came in. “Oh, I guess that’s what Tif got you for Valentine’s day?” I stared at him blankly before answering yes. And I tell ya, this wasn’t the last time that a man that I had never mentioned Tif’s name to, would magically pull it out of his ass somehow. Maybe that’s the reason why Tif began referring to that dude as “The Swami”, because of his keen psychic abilities. Me and dude sat in my room in silence for several minutes. As I was working up the words to tell him to fuck off, he hands me Musiq Soulchild’s Aijuswanaseing. “Here, I want you to have this”, he says. I look and the cd is opened, used, and listened to numerous times. I frown “Um, thanx, but I already have it”. “Well I want you to have this one, from me.” Pathetic. In the end, I never had to tell him to fuck off. Apparently, not only was he psychic, but he was fricking perceptive. He never called me again.

I still have both copies of that Musiq cd for some reason. Probably because I don’t believe in regifting used shit to people. Dumbass.