"I'm leaving on...a...server?..."

"I swear the check is in the mail!"

O.K. folks when next you look I won't be here. I'm going to "actually" move to blogsome. As opposed to just setting up the joint and dragging my lazy ass back here every morning to post. Hit me over yonder starting Friday. I actually didn't get evicted...I swear...for real...no jokes...besides I would move out before I ever got evicted...that's not what happened here...really...

Thou shalt not Judge...please

"This whole damn legal system is out of order!"

The other day Humanity Critic posted about some criminal activities he was involved in and it made me think about my experiences with the law. While I will not at this point in time divulge some of the things I've done, I will get into the worse two feelings in the world. Getting locked up and going to court. First of all I'm sure every black man has something going on whenever he has to talk to the police, but knowing that they are about to arrest you is a real bitch. I don't know about where you're from, but Centeral Bookings here sucks ass. Beyond the "procedure" that you go through, you sit in a stone cell with a bunch of other dudes. They take most of your stuff meaning under shirts and things and then they start blasting the A.C. (the goddamned A.C.). Sitting on a concrete slab in January with the air conditioner going S-U-C-K-S. Then to make it more fun, you're going to sit in this cell for hours. When I say hours I mean get locked up at noon and you might be out after midnight...maybe. Then you see the commisioner who says what's what and then you go sit in another cell for I don't know how long. The second cell is worse cause you know when they let you out you're going home and it takes forever. So you finally get to go home (carrying your shit in a clear plastic bag minus lighters or nicotine products) luckily in Bmore nothings far so I was able to walk home at 3a.m. really pissed off and cold. But it doesn't stop there boys and girls, the real fun has not yet begun. You still have a court date. Nothing like having your fate in the hands of a tempermental person who is basically running shit. Better hope the judge is having a good day. So your summons says arrive at 8:30, but so did everyones. So you sit in a wooden bench anticipating your name being called and when they do your damn heart is in your throat. Now I know what charges usually yield what sentence, but nothing is worse than not having control when your freedom is on the line. In one of my court appearances the judge actually laughed at the description of what we were said to possess. Didn't make me feel any better. The worse thing about it is I'm the type of person who has argued with cops so that natural resistance is still present, it's just the thought that the judge is passing a sentence tempers it. However since I never really got caught doing much I was able to feel one of the best feelings in the world. Leaving court knowing you're done. Pay my fine and leave. Ready to cause havok once again amongst the populace. At least when you get several blocks from the court house. I would recommend to my readers that if you have to get arrested, do it in the city. Counties take things more serious and have more time to deal with you. Especially whatever county it is in Virgina where Kings Dominion is...bastards. Counties like to penalize you more monetarily than cities. Why the hell you arrest someone for having weed and then conduct an analysis to see what it is. I think knowing what it was facilitated the charge. Damn $250.00 testing fee. Did I mention to hell with Kings Dominion? Have fun and party safe kids!


Hey Ma! Revisited

"If I get up out of this bed!"

A while back I wrote a post about my mother, hoping to shed more light on the sickness of my mind. I would be remiss to follow up on this segment. Darth Vader is the representation cause she introduced me to Star Wars and is one of the main people I can get into a geek conversation about it with. Plus she's the Darth Vader in my life and the only living person I still have some fear of.

Dealing with Children - I mentioned before that my mother always taught me to speak to children like adults. Since they are learning from you, if you talk baby talk that's what they will learn. Well, my mother had some other unique ideas about dealing with the youth. When she was younger my cousin was going through a biting phase. She bit people what can I say, I never did it. My mother kept saying, "ya'll need to curb that now." Well one day my mother had to take something from my cousin and my cousin bit her...so my mother bit her back. My cousin stood there stupefied for a minute and really didn't know how to react. My mother walked way and said,"Hurts don't it?"

Dealing with Me - My mother believes in the pecking order. I have been informed at various ages that "I will always be her baby/child." There fore I always have to stay with her when we are out. When I was little she held my hand and walked at my pace. Now, she grabs my arm and makes me walk at hers. She briefed me on the positions I am required to take when walking with her or any other woman. Between people and her purse and between her and cars. When she first told me about the car thing I asked what was the use. My concern was that it would just mean that if a car is coming I'm sure to be hit. "Exactly" she said, "I raised a good shield, didn't I?".

On another hand my mother is very understanding during the years when I was a viable target for police and couldn't catch a cab (wait, I still can't) she held me down. I have seen her fuss at police on my behalf and when we needed to catch a cab she made me stand back while she hailed them down. Gotta love it.

Dealing with People - This is one reason my mother still causes some fear in me. My aunt used to have a boyfriend named Curtis. Well one day the four of us are sitting in the living room and Curtis is playing around with my aunt. I can't even remember what the hell he was doing, but my aunt kept telling him to stop. All of a sudden I hear this loud ass thud. I look up, my mother is sitting back down and Curtis is clutching his chest trying to catch his breath. As soon as he could speak he told my mother, "I was just playing" my mothers response (from behind the T.V. guide), "I don't like when people play with my sister like that." I figured then I don't want my mother seriously mad at me ever in my life.

Dealing with Drama - I used to have a lot of issues...I don't mean Psychological, those came along later in life. I mean asthma and a large number of injuries (I was clumsy and curious). I must say that the only time I ever saw her running and slightly out of sorts was when I got hit by a car...good story in itself. So I get hit by a car, my mother comes running out out the house. I blacked out so I didn't know what was going on. I ask my mother, "What happened did someone get hit by a car?" - her response. "shut up and stay on the ground boy!"

Or how about during a sleep walking episode, I wake up downstairs scared unsure about what was going on. I start yelling for my mother. She wakes up and says, "You was sleep walking, come on up here and go back to sleep." I swear my mother telling me to do something cuts through any fear.

How about my mothers favorite quote for your sob story. You whine and complain and my mother says look {index finger and thumb rubbing together} you ask what's that...she says the smallest violin in the world and it's playing for you. Every now and then my mother calls me a wise ass and I let her know it's genetic.


That's what I get

"Pain don't hurt"

I am of a mind that pain does not really hurt. I mean it hurts, but...let me explain. Pain is your bodies method of letting you know that something is wrong. Once you know whats wrong you have to correct the situation. When I recognize the problem I can ignore the pain...in most cases. Right now I am not in pain...I am a little sore though. This can all be traced to the fact that I did not go running all summer like I usually do. This combined with the fact that I ran a mile and then hit the weights afterwards has left a brother a little sore. This is not the bad part. The thing is I'm targeting my legs more than anything so this is where I am most sore. To the delight of anyone who wants to laugh at me my stiffness is only visable when I walk down steps or first begin walking. I look like an old man. I knew I should have ran this summer. The weights thing is never an issue, it's like riding a bike you might not start where you were, but you can get back there. With running it just sucks to run out of breath at a place where you know you would have been going strong in the past. So I am now petitioning for a female massuere willing to work in exchange for humorous comments and unique insights. I haven't had any takers yet. Now I'm about to buy me some ankle weights to keep on throughout the day to help keep up the progression. It sucks starting out, but its good to know what I'm doing....ahhh, getting back on point.


The mother of invention

"I'm financially embarassed at the moment"

I'm broke...not meaning I have no money, I'm responsible adult broke. Basically I have money and all of it has to go somewhere. I remember being little and seeing my mother with money I'd ask her for some and she'd say it wasn't actually her money, it belonged to bill collectors and they just hadn't got it yet. I understand now. I am familiar with that feeling of how much money you'll really get on payday. Luckily due to hook-ups and the like I can not only survive, but still have fun during this time. This is a guy who (pre-bills) was unemployed for a whole summer and kept the same $40 in my pocket. I still managed to have ridiculous fun though. I left town, went to clubs, drank and lived it up and it wasn't until the end of august that I even broke a twenty. I know how to live it up while poor. I will say that as the responsibilities of adulthood loom over me more it's sometimes harder. I don't for instance need to blow $50 at a club, but the things I want do cost more these days. It's always at times like this that I think back to my last few luxury purchases and hang my head in regret. Not for long, however, I figure if I had the money now I'd probably spend on something I wanted anyway. I'm the type of person who doesn't enjoy having money as much as spending it. It feels good to have a knot in my pocket, but that's because I'm thinking of the things I can blow it on. Just like I'm only really good at saving money when I have something in mind to eventually spend it on. At times like this I start running down the unread books and doorman hook ups I have. Plus I'm running on Sunday and then it's football so that will kill some time. I find that during any period of broke pockets the most important thing is to get through as fast as you can. I cook some of my best meals when I'm broke. I believe that all presidential candidates should have to live for two months without money...rather any substantial money. The world would be a better place. So off I go to have fun with minimum funds.


Dead End

"Le com├ędie est fini"

Over the last few days it has become very clear that I will not be at this job long. Right now I just don't know which shoe will fall first. On one hand we have things that have gone wrong that my boss could write me up for to make herself look good. We have a disput with the funder over a move that we don't want to happen, so actually it's one director vs. another both of whom are over my immediate boss. If one isn't happy the contract can be pulled. If the other is happy than we aren't. Basically there are alot of things going around that could all bode ill for my employment status here, or rather the existance of this place. Than if I get a response from the resumes I'm about to send out I'll probably just bounce. While I have concerns about new employment, bills and what will happen to my clients - I otherwise don't care. It's like a bad friend who threatens to not speak to you anymore. You just kind of shrug and pray they keep that promise. The funniest part of all is that I kind of don't care. I'm not afraid of being out of work. I don't care even if I should get fired. I'm just tired of dealing with this whole place. I actually looked up the price of a plane ticket to brazil (for my new career as gigilo and lounge singer). The only thing that bothers me is that it seems no one is considering our purpose in this whole thing. I feel like a soccer mom,"Won't someone please think of the children!!!". Anywho, the thrill is gone here it's anhedonia when I cross the door step in the morning. Nothing new, except for stupid ideas and suggestions. I'm tired. Smell ya later.


It's been coming

"Dammit Jim I'm a doctor not a fuel gauge!"

Soooo....today I was running late. This always happens cause when I wake up and for some reason assume I can lay in bed for a few minutes before I get up. So I get here and I have to take some youth to an orientation. This means I have to get the "Hulking Behemoth"...the van. I hate, I hate, I hate this damn van. It's old, you can't lock the doors, it smells and it goes through gas like it's leaking. The other perpetual problem is since we don't often use it alot of times we get it and it needs gas. The final nail in the coffin is that I always end up driving it. This is another downside to being the only man in the office. There are alot of things that I end up having to be the one to do. It would be alright, but it's not just physical labor. I swear making yourself required may bring some security, but it makes you the number 1 candidate to do things. Now I have been waiting for this mobile junk pile to run out of gas on me and today was the day. I looked at the gauge and I knew it was low, I knew it wouldn't make the two trips they wanted me too. So I grab the youts and head up MLK. If any of you know anything about Baltimore MLK is large but its not a very long street. So about 4 (longer) blocks up I notice that it's not responding as much when I hit the gas. My heart sank as plunged the pedal further down, the van sputtering and gagging. I made it up one more block and I knew I had to get off MLK cause them kids wasn't going to help me push that shyt. I turned a corner and made it another block before I pulled over and cut her off. Now pay attention cause this is where Capt. Dumbcomment comes in. I call tell them whats up. Here go the stupid comments: try to make it to the gas station. Dammit this big rusty bitch got around that last corner on fumes and prayer and that took 2 1/2 minutes! Yes 2 1/2 minutes to turn a corner, you shoulda seen the dirty looks I got. Then people are trying to convince me to get to a gas station. I almost said something like, "fuck off, ass clowns". Ain't no way I'ma be stuck on the Howard st. bridge in a stalled out van. I hate that van like Capt. Hook hates Peter Pan. I'm not allowing people to speak to me for the rest of the day.


Behind the Blog: The Early Years

"I don't think about risks much. I just do what I want to do. If you gotta go, you gotta go."
Lillian Carter

Now, lets take some time to look at the steps that have brought the Anhedonic cat you've all grown to know and love (or just laugh at) to where he is in his life. While I do think things through, it's because of experience and wisdom more than knowledge. Let's just say having blisters all over the palm of my hand is the way I learned the iron gets hot. So now let us take a stroll through recollection and see some of the things that has shaped me into the twisted individual I am.

1 year + When we lived in an apartment in Texas I once knocked out the screen in the window and climbed outside. Me and my trusty Dukes of Hazzard car were going for a walk. This is actually one of my first memories. So after a brisk jaunt through the complex I went home. The problem being that all those doors looked alike and I didn't know numbers and letters. So I picked up a newspaper wrapped in plastic inserted my car into it and started banging on a door Eventually my mother picked my up from behind and whisked me home. Ahh...exploration.

2 years + In the middle of our apartment complex there was a nice sized swimming pool. One day as I walked my mother to do the wash. I made up my mind to impress her with my swimming ability. With a quick shout of "Look Ma!" I made a beeline for the pool and jumped in the deep end. Of course I had never swam in my life. Thankfully my mother was a champion swimmer in the Airforce. This was also when I learned that your mother shouting the word "Boy" can function as cursing.

4 years After moving to Bmore My family quickly learned that I was an unusual child. For one thing I was very literal. Telling me to do things like, "Throw this glass in the sink" resulted in alot of broken glasses and a policy change in how I was given instructions. This might be the reason my grandmother still details every step of what she is asking me to do even though I'm an adult. I also used to run with my head down until I hit the porch doors so maybe she thinks I rattled something.

5 - 6 years Most of the fights in my life have been with people larger than myself (Bully issuess). Well one time I was saved from fighting. There was some teenager (asshole) who thought it was funny to stick his air rifle in the ground and shoot a clod of dirt in my face. I did not see the humor. I didn't consider that this kid was almost twice my size I was just mad. So He promptly got a punch into the best place I could reach. No not the nuts, but the place I find most fun. The diaphragm. Luckily my aunt realized that it was best to pull me on in the house while dude stood there trying to get his breath.

9 - 10 years I have mentioned this before, but...look I really used to like the movie "A Christmas Story" and during that time we had an old refrigerator with coils at the top. One morning as the movie was on before I had to leave for school, I happened to be looking in the fridge and I got to wonder...you know the pole scene and all. Well lets just say I sounded just like that kid as I called for help (except for the crying and screaming) I was saved and my mother made me go to school anyway. For the record I was not really thinking, it was an impulse...shut up.

21 years This is a big forward, but it's a good illustration. One fine payday I walk to this club spot that has been many things but was at this time (and still is today) called Gordon's. Someone I know was having something and I had no plans so I went. The event was o.k. but I really wasn't in the mood and there weren't that many people. So I end up chilling at the bar and kickin it with the two female bartenders. So I'm ordering drinks and I realize I should have something different. So I started asking them to suggest things. Since most of the people were upstairs I was able to hold their attention and they started getting into it. They would suggest I would give a thumbs down or try the suggestion. Before anyone thinks that I was getting suckered by the cute bartender, I paid for about $30 in drinks that night, I easily drank $60 or more worth of booze. The bartenders really got into it and started thinking up drinks to see if I had tasted them before. They even made up a drink and named it after me. Don't ask me what was in it. As I stumbled my ass home I knew it was a bad idea...but it sure was fun.