Archive for the humor Category

Advocatus Diaboli

Posted in humor, just for the bull of it, politics, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 16, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

For months I have tried, without success, to secure an interview with The Devil.  Unfortunately, it has always been his attitude that when words get put down on paper, it is difficult, at best, to refute what has been said in the past.  Therefore, it behooves him not to grant interviews.  I was referred, instead, to one of his most devoted workers, The Devil’s Advocate.  I must say that she was alluring, seductive, and most enticing.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .

Freedom :  Thank you for the interview.

Devil’s Advocate:  Whatever.

What does your job entail?

Good question.  Let me first say f*ck what ya heard – I am NOT the Devil’s advocate.  “Advocate”, as used here, is a misnomer.  I mean, I do not speak for him – I speak for myself and myself only.  But, you know what really gets my goat?  “The Devil is the author of confusion”.  NOT!  That is my claim to fame.  That is my sole job: confusion.  I am the author of confusion, not the Devil, but I.  It’s the age-old story – worker does all of the dirt but the boss gets the credit.  I guess that’s just part of that being-a-team-player-bullsh*t.

Well, alrighty, then!

That kinda makes this interview a bit of a contradiction for me, as I am not one for promoting clarification.  I get my greatest pleasure when I confuse people.  Smoke and mirrors gets me so hot!  I am a master –  mistress, rather – of taking things out of context and making them appear totally different than what they actually happen to be.  Therefore, as it should be stated, I am the author of confusion.

Most say that your role is simply as an agitator, a debater of sorts.  How true is that assessment?

It’s basically without fact.  While that is the role that I initially take on and the face that I show, the real deal is that in the end, confusion reigns and my job is done.  Sure – I start out with the idea that I will take an unpopular side just to get things rolling, but, that, again, is just smoke and mirrors.  Once the debate is in full swing, the primary point is then twisted beyond repair and recognition.  That’s what I’m really about.

So, then, you’re just a perpetrating, deceitful vixen?

OMD!! Why, thank you!  You are ever so kind!  You left out “liar”, though.  I know – everybody always says “The Devil is a liar”, but, that’s just not true.  I mean, think about it.  The Devil makes a point of telling the truth:  “I’ll make you a star, and in return, you give me your soul”, “I’ll make you rich in return for your soul”, or  “I’ll make you beautiful if you give me your soul”. That’s pretty much cut and dry.  He actually speaks the truth, tells it like it is.  On the other hand, I am an outright liar.

(Her legs were crossed.  She did a “Sharon Stone” on me and reversed the position of her legs.  OMD!! Eyes agog, I continued.)

Do you consider yourself a “minion” of the Devil?

Sorry.  It’s been real, but, like, I gotta run.

Run?  It’s only two o’clock.  You said you’d give me ’til 3.

Well, that’s just me being me.  You know, confusion and all that?  You’re on Eastern time, and I was talkin’ Central time.  What can I say?  Peace.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

.   .   .   .   .   .

Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones/The Neptunes – The video.

.   .   .   .   .   .

“When you own the information, you can bend it all you want.” – John Mayer from “Waiting On The World To Change”.

Photo courtesy of checkmate.rediffiland.com  All rights reserved.

Wake up, and smell the coffee.

Posted in humor, just for the bull of it, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , on September 11, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

Grumpiness.  Grumpiness.  Grumpiness.  Those are the three main side effects of not consuming one’s daily dose of caffeine.  Fortunately for me, I have experienced that feeling on only a few occasions in my life. – and it’s been a long life so far.  EVERY  morning starts with my first of many cups of coffee, the java bean, the cup-a-joe.  I’ll have it no other way.  That’s a serious addiction – one that I do not strive to kick any time soon.  I just came back from a short walk to the Dunkin’s that sits a few blocks from here.  I am late.  Very late.  I’m not grumpy, though, because I knew that my fix was sidetracked for but a moment in time.  I knew that the aroma that I love so much was only seconds away.

There are “people who drink coffee” and there are “coffee drinkers”People who drink coffee have little concern that they are desecrating the very sanctity of all that coffee is.  They poison it with different flavors that the coffee bean’s commercialization has deemed “hip”.  They stifle it by asking for it by it’s various insipid names:  frappachino, iced coffee, and the like.  Coffee drinkers will not be having any of that nonesense.  For us, coffee comes only one way: regular.  That can come in the form of decaf, as some of us can get a bit high-strung, as it were, but anything that is more of a deviation than that is pure sacrilege.

Dunkin’s is not one of my favorites, but, it is, at least, walkable from home.  There is no better coffee than that which comes from a diner.  That is what most would consider some strong coffee.  My buds and I would tap our cigarette ashes into our cup-a-joe, continue our conversation, and continue to drink that same cup-a-joe until the cup had been drained.  That’s how good diner coffee is.  I should say “there was no better” and “how good diner coffee was.  Back in the day, real coffee was served in a real ceramic cup, or, if you desired take-out, it was served in a paper cup.  Even in a diner, these days, coffee is served in a styrofoam cup – pure and simple desecration, once again.

For the life of me, I cannot see what millions of Americans see in Starbucks‘ “coffee”.  Coffee?  Try “the Devil’s libation”, “mud juice”, or perhaps “H*ll in a cup”.  To me, that is some of the nastiest liquids ever designed to be consumed.  Blech!!!  Not only is the mess nasty, but, it’s as expensive as H*ll.  My brother swears by it, and from time to time, I will find myself seated at one of Starbucks‘ tables along with my brother consuming this so-called coffee.  In Manhattan, there is nearly a Starbucks on every other corner.  Millions of Americans consuming that abberation on a daily – nay – hourly basis.  How sad.  I have been, for the last ten or so years, into the habit of making my own coffee, faithfully each morning when I arise.  Actually the making would be done the night before.  Only pressing the “brew” button was done upon wake-up.  I decided that I would save some coffee, as I would find myself drinking one cup, and never returning for a second or third cup.  This was merely due to my recent surge in taking care of urgencies, as opposed to not wanting my follow-up cups.  So, I started taking that walk to Dunkin’s for my morning cup.  That actually saves on the amount of coffee that I use.  However, I also find myself taking that second and third walk back to Dunkins before too long.

The blogsphere is kinda like an early morning cup of java – it gets one started in the A.M.  I start my “online experience” by visiting a few of my favorite blogs to see what is being posted for the day.    Grumpiness.  Grumpiness.  Grumpiness.  Those are the three main side effects of not having my daily dose of my favorite blogs.  I am slowly, but, surely coming back around to posting just about every day.  When I do, I trust that others will find that they need a dose of my blog to get them going.  I’ll let you in a little secret – my real name is “joelle”.  That is usually shortened to “joe”, as it were.  Therefore, liken reading my blog each day to “consuming a cup-a-joe”.  Peace.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

Coffee cup photo found at dreamstime.com

Old School Flava: 8/29/08

Posted in humor, Old School Flava, social commentary with tags , , , , , , on August 29, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

Quiz time.  Did you pay attention?  If not, you’re probably jumpin’ up and down cryin’ “It’s not Wednesday!  Why, oh why, is he doing Old School Flava on a Friday??!!”  Freedom has no schedule, no rhyme, and no reason.  He just does what he does when he does it.  So, on this last Friday of August, allow me to entertain you with more phrases that my Moms has laid on me through the years.

FOOD

It’s a huge mistake to walk into my mother’s kitchen while she’s cooking.  Her first words are “Get outta my kitchen!”  After you ignore those words and continue to try and catch a glimpse of what’s in the pots, she tosses a wet dishrag at you and repeats herself.  Finally, when you can’t determine what’s cookin’, you ask.  Her reply?  “Daddy’s old britches”.  That means that she has peeked into the refrig and gathered up whatever has been left from the previous few nights and came up with one of her creations.  It basically means olio, stew, soup – anything that does not require starting from scratch.  There’s an underlying statement there, as well:  “None of your business!” Now, you casually stroll outta her kitchen, no wiser than the moment that you ventured in, moments of time that will never be retrieved.

GENERAL

Ever try to help someone out and end up causing more confusion than anything else?  I’m the kind of person that just hates it when someone says “You could probably . . . “ I don’t take too kindly to advice unless it is solicited.  Give me a job, back off, and let me do it.  If I need assistance, I’ll ask for it.  Otherwise, let me do what it is that you asked me to do.  Moms has an answer for that one:  “Don’t help me, help the bear”. That means “I don’t need your help, thank you”.  Now, I have no idea why the bear needs help, or why I should help him at all, but, I guess it is what it is.

Sometimes, things are just “over the top”.  I mean, plain old you-done-outdone-yourself-this-time over the top.  This particular phrase usually refers to food or beverages, but, can also be used for fashion, hairdo’s and just about everything, but, is meant specifically for food and beverages: “It’s enough to make you wanna smack your mammy down!”.  That’s definitely “mammy”, as “mommy” just won’t work here.  The statement exudes sassiness.  It alludes to the idea that something has got to be awfully good in order to make you slap your mother.  Even more so to make you wanna slap her down.

I’ll be back with lots more “down home” phrases that my Moms has laid on me.  It’s called “Old School Flava”, and it could be on a Wednesday, it could be on  Sunday, it could be on any day of the week that catches my fancy.  That’s not a bad thing, though. Just think about it: if I said it was gonna be a a particular day every week and you came back on that day and it wasn’t here, you’d be real upset with freedom.  We wouldn’t want that, now would we?  See you next time.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

A Rose By Any Other Name . . .

Posted in humor, just for the bull of it, social commentary with tags , , , , on August 27, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

I’ve been called many names throughout my illustrious life, most of which were well-deserved.  I’m not mad about it, not in the least, as I’ve hurled a few myself at others.  Worst than the names that I’ve been called, are the names that I have heard that were actually given to children by their parents.  I wanna tell you that it isn’t a pretty picture.  “Shaqwanda“, “Lometra“, and “Aquanetta” have all become rather tame by now.  Those names that are close in nature to them are bad enough, but, there are others that are even worse.  No doubt, you’ve probably heard them yourself and shook your head upon their utterance.  It’s enough to make you choke, I tell ya.  “A Boy Named Sue”?  Ha!  Be grateful.

For me, it all started, I think, with Jamal, Malik, and Marquis.  It was a time when it was important (for some unknown reason) for mothers to mark their children with some Islamic-sounding name in honor of their children’s daddies who were away on vacation (i.e. doing jail time).  If I think very deeply, which I am in no frame of mind to do, I could probably come up with at least ten real-life people that I have encountered in my realm of life with those names.  As it turns out, most of the daddies have been in jail for a longer period of time than those children were on earth (i.e. mama’s baby, daddy’s maybe).  Some families that I know of have children with all three of those names, and, as is usually the case, neither of them having the same father.

I am always amazed when watching football on Saturday or Sunday at the names that appear on the telly out of the clear blue sky.  To all of the networks – gives us a warning when you’re going to display such mind-shattering info.   The most recent names that had me in awe were DeShawn and DeAndre.  But, please, STOP THE PRESS!!  Playing for Baylor’s football team is LeQuantum McDonald!!!!  Back in 1987, some parent had the audacity and unmitigated foolishness to name her son LaQuantum!!!  WTF???!!!  I hereby declare that your name-giving privileges are revoked – permanently!  Don’t you EVER put another moniker on another child.

Please . . . sit down.  Really . . . sit down please.  There is or was a player at Auburn University whose first name is (drumroll please) . . . Tez!!  I’m serious, man!  His name is Tez, as in T-E-Z!  I know you think that’s a pretty bad name but you ain’t heard nothin’ yet!  His last name is Doolittle!!  You knew you had a f*cked up name to begin with and you went and named him TEZ!!!???  We all know that mothers get the utmost respect, no matter what the case may be.  But I’m sorry.  Dude, I personally give you permission to go home and slap the livin’ sh*t out that woman!!  Has she lost her mind?!  I don’t care who in your heritage had that name and wanted to be remembered, but, lady, you had no right to lay that kind of punishment on your child.  As with LaQuantum’s Mom, I hereby FORBID you to name another child.  If you even think about it, you will be arrested on the spot.

Here are a few who get (dis)honorable mention: Knowshon Moreno (Georgia), Co-Eric Riley (Mississippi State), Sen’Derrick Marks (Auburn U.), and Sa’Coby Carter (Middle Tennessee State).

I’ve seen quite a few in my life, and, no doubt, so have you.  If you happen to be one of those, with one of those God-awful names, then, I sincerely apologize.  Oh, not for teasing you about your name – I’m sorry that you were unfortunate enough to receive one.  Don’t act surprised.  You know that here at The Realm Of Darkness NOBODY gets a pass – not even you.

I’d say see you soon, but, don’t count on it, as I’ll probably be incarcerated.  As soon as I finish this piece, I’m hopping in the old ride, headed for Staten Island in search of Ms Karen Harris.  If I don’t find her, I’m headed for Lawrenceville, GA, in search of Mr. Michael Vassell.  Either way, one of them is about to feel my wrath.  They are the parents of one I-Perfection Harris!!!!!!  The I, supposedly, stand for “Immaculate“.  Actually, I think I’ll just go after both of them, because they actually have another son whom they named SUPREME JUSTICE !!!!!!!!!  See you went I’m released.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

Send In The Clown.

Posted in humor, just for the bull of it, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 25, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

What makes my skin crawl?  Two words:  Wendy Williams.  I hate that wench with a passion!  To me, she is nothing but a rumor monger and a bad one at that.  Yes – today, freedom  has his “hater cap” on.  A few years back, while in the car, with daughter in tow, daughter paused at one station to hear what the female deejay was saying.  After about thirty seconds, I asked “Who is the chick with the raunchy mouth?” Daughter replied “That’s Wendy Williams“.  I immediately responded with the notion that if she (daughter) wanted to live to see her next birthday, she’d better change the station, and quickly.  Furthermore, I said that FOR AS LONG AS YOU RIDE IN MY CAR, DON’T EVER LET ME HEAR THAT WOMAN’S VOICE ON MY RADIO, AGAIN!!” Of course daughter just turned the station and smiled.  She actually dislikes her.  Not to be confused with my own personal HATRED towards the woman.

As much as I despise the clown-makeup-wearing hag, I just had to make this post.  Usually, I try to  avoid giving “press” to those whom I can’t stomach, with the rare exception of politics when one must obligatorily give a mention.  So, why now?  I was at another blog – a well-known blog – and the author was all the rave about The Wendy Williams Show (which has been picked up by FOX – no surprise there – I mean, who else?!) and how in love she was with it, making me even more sick to the stomach with each glorifying word.  She went on to say that the mistakes that Ms Williams makes are part of the appeal (i.e. questioning time remaining, mispronunciation of names, etc).  WTF??!! That type of stupidity adds to its appeal??

OK, I wasn’t going to mention the blog (basically because I haven’t quite gotten the hang of, nor grasped the proper method for using “trackbacks”.  Go ahead – laugh – see if I don’t knock you . . .) , but,  since I am quoting from the site: it’s Racialicious (If you click on the name, it will take you to the full article, if you dare).  Now, don’t get me wrong, as I am not hating on Racialicious.  The fact of the matter is that I frequent the spot, and have much love for them.

There are two other sentences that I need to quote:

“Second, it’s so refreshing how her show completely normalizes queerness among people of color. So many of her audience members, mostly black and Latino, are casually open about their sexuality”.

First of all, what the H*ll is so refreshing about the normalization of queerness?  Secondly, as I remarked in her comment area – Big deal that her audience members are so open about their sexuality.  I’ve been open about my sexuality since I was an awkward teen, and I’ve always been proud of being heterosexual.  So what?

I’m not homophobic in the least.  Now, watch me as I use the very same stereotypical-type phrase which is so often  used by  Caucasians who say they once had an African-American friend:  I have gay friends – well, had.  Seriously, when I was in college there was a Black homosexual couple with whom I was extremely close.  My friends and their friends partied at both hetero- and homosexual clubs and parties.  During that time, as a result of hanging out with them (the couple) I developed quite an entourage of gay couples (both male and female) that I could truly call “friends”.  They are all long gone, as are most of my heterosexual friends that I met in college, but, that is due, in no small part, to the passage of time – I’ll write next week, I’ll call on their birthday, or whatever, only to find that somewhere along the line, addresses and phone numbers have been lost in the shuffle.  My point is that I didn’t just have one gay friend and am trying to use that as proof that I am not homophobic.  My friends are my friends – simple as that.  I don’t get why there is such hype about being homosexual.   So you’re gay!   BIG FREAKIN’ DEAL!!!  The fact that a show appeals to a particular group of people does not make it a wonderful show to watch.  In the end, it’s just a pitiful waste of time that can never be regained and its host is still a hag of monumental proportion.

Go right ahead and say that I’m just an old fogey and that I just don’t know what good, clean entertainment is.  I admit that I am not in touch with the pulse of today’s youth and its likes and dislikes.  So often I am at odds with my children for the remarks that they make regarding what they thought was funny or what movie is a “must see”.  I know why:  I’m old.

So be it.  I know that I am old.  When it has all been said and done, I will still be old.  Unlike Wendy Williams, who will still be a clown-makeup-wearing hag who doesn’t even realize that she is what she is.  Peace.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

Old School Flava: 7/23/2008

Posted in blog marathon 2008, humor, Old School Flava, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , on July 23, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

Yeah – it’s Wednesday and here I am keeping to a schedule with this Old School Flava.  Don’t get used to it, because it probably won’t last.  As I may have mentioned before – Freedom doesn’t take too kindly to deadlines and schedules.  But, alas, here we are.  Speaking of the dadblaned devil, I failed in my first attempt at thirty (30) straight days of postings.  This post should rightly be entitled “Day One . . . Again”.  I got a bit frazzled over a thing or two, percolated on ’em, then just digressed myself into total anger.  Over.  It’s over now, and we are moving right along.

THE DOZENS

I was listening to Ramsey Lewis earlier this a.m. and he and his cohort, Karen Williams, began to speak of “playin’ the dozens”.  She proclaimed that she had never heard the term before.  OK, sure.  Ramsey went on to explain that it was originally a game played by Black folks that pitted one against the other in a match of spewing out insults about each other’s family.  Eventually, it became more than just a game, and evolved into an intentional dissing of one’s family, usually leading up to fisticuffs.  The ultimate insult?  “Yo, mama!!” Back then, that might have gotten you a black eye, or worse,a real beatdown.  What about today?  Do you guys still used that phrase?

FOOD

When my brother, sister and I were young, real young, we would complain about having to eat those yukky vegetables.  The complaining came with every dinnertime meal, as there were always vegetables on the menu.  Of course, the complaints were neither here nor there, since the vegetables were always eaten before anyone arose from the table to go their separate ways.  As we grew a bit, and aged a bit, we all either became more appreciative of the vegetables, or decided that it was useless to continue to try getting out of eating them – whatever the transformation was that took place, we simply ate the veggies and moved along.  As we ventured into our adolescent years, we became familiar with a newer phrase, and I say “newer” meaning newer to us.  It’s a phrase that’s been around for a long time, so says my mom – “You can either eat it or lay your head down beside it!” That was mom’s retort to the complaints of “meatloaf, again?” or, “tuna casserole????”  In recent years, and only recent years, I have heard a few variations on that phrase but the general intent and words remained very close to the way that my mom spit it out.  My kids hear it and crack up.  That phrase, for the uninitiated, translates to “take it or leave it”, but, to this day, I still don’t know its origin.  You think I should ask mom, don’t you?  You think that would be a good idea, I bet.  Yeah, me too.

That’s gonna do it for today.  I’m going to give this thirty-day thingy another try.  It’s really no big deal.  I’ve always believed that any blogger worth his/her “html” and “publish button” should be able to post ad infinitum without very much effort.  After all, it’s what we do, right?  I know for a fact that I bleed html.  Peace.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

Flava of the Day is “Right Direction” by En Vogue from EV3

Day 10 (I Just Don’t Know)

Posted in humor, social commentary with tags , , , , , , on July 19, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

BRA STRAPS

Did your bff say “Oh, you look GOOOOD, sweetie!”?  Or did you take the ill-given advice of some crazed fashionista?  Or is it that you just don’t care?  A woman wearing a sexy top and letting her bra straps show, is just not sexy.  This is for the heterosexual women only:  You get dressed to go out.  You’ve looked in the mirror and said “Oh, I’m just so cute”, and you head out the door.  What was that all for?  Was it to let the fashionista believe that she guessed the next fashion statement correctly?  Probably not.  My guess is that you dressed in a sexy manner to look good for that hunk that just might be walking the streets at the same time as you.  Yeah – that’s why.  So take it from one of those “hunks” that you supposedly dressed for – the straps peeking through IS NOT SEXY!  Knock it off, will ya?  Not to worry, though.  There are some options, two in fact.  Keep the bra on and wear another type of top that actually covers the bra.  Or (and this is my personal favorite), keep the sexy top on and take the bra off.  Keep the sexy top on and take the bra off.  Keep the sexy . . .

WHITE TEES and HOODIES

Marshall Mathers didn’t start the trend with his video, because I saw white tees and denim way before the video debuted.  I realize that it is this generation’s fashion statement.  Throw in a hoodie, and you’re dressed to  the “T’s”.  I don’t even dislike the style, I mean, it’s OK.  I don’t get that everybody is walking around with the exact same outfit on.  There is absolutely no individuality in dress.  That’s  OK, too, if that’s what you like.  I know that when I was in my teens and early twenties, me and my friends wore all kinds of clothing, and it was to buck the system, to be so different that they’d be scratching their heads in wonder.  It worked.  Saggy pants are working, too, but, that’s another story altogether.  I was just wondering if anyone knew how the “white tees and denim” fashion trend started.  My guess is probably some particular music video that was all the craze at the time.  I’m not sure, but, perhaps you know.

THE CROWN VIC

Speaking of music videos, I will venture to say that this, too, came from a music video: WTH makes guys (and I guess women, as well) think that it is cool to ride around in a Crown Victoria, looking like a cab driver or a plain-clothed policeman?  Everywhere I go, in my neighborhood, I can’t get to my destination without seeing three or four Crown Victorias along the way.  Who said that this was a cool car?  Music videos have an extreme strangle-hold on today’s youth, and something tells me that I’m right – some video featured a “hero/villain” who was just oh, so cool driving through the streets in this bogus status symbol.  BTW – most of the ones that I see are parked on the side of the street, awaiting their ticket from a policeman.

Well, I asked my daughter and son what they say when someone has been “outdone” on the dancefloor.  Duh?!  Why didn’t I ask them to begin with?  Anyway, previously, I ask that question of my readers, but, now I know.  My kids say that the phrases is “You got served”, or “You got owned”.  Cool.

copyright  ©  2008  freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

Flava of the Day is Mo’ Better Blues by The Brandford Marsalis Quintet

Day 9 (freedom is . . . )

Posted in humor with tags , , , , , on July 18, 2008 by joelle blackstarr

What manner of man is this?  From whence cometh he?  Just who the h*ll is this “Freedom” of whom they speak?  Could it be that he is from some other world?  Is he the long awaited . . . nah.

Seven days a week, I am an angry Black man. What, then, is an angry Black man?  This angry Black man is a man who is tired of racism, and racial discrimination, especially towards Black Americana.  This angry Black man is sick and tired of Black Americana using words that degrade Black Americana.  Since you all know the words of which I speak, I will not print them on the page.  A few days ago, I decided that I will figure out some other way to bring attention to one particular word, when necessary, without writing it down.  Taking his lead from Richard Pryor, Freedom will no longer let it be a part of his vocabulary (not that it was ever used that much by Freedom to begin with).  We need to obliterate those things which hold us down,  which hold us back, meaning the things that we do ourselves that hold us down and hold us back.  I’m not a fan of anarchy, so don’t go out there wiping out those other folks who hold us down.  That was NOT my meaning.

During those seven days a week as an angry Black man, I find time to write.  I have a novel that is close to being complete, and I will soon post a long excerpt from that very same novel for your literary entertainment.  The novel is entitled “Midnight Redemption” (copyright 2005  freedom).  The story concerns a private detective, Mike Drummond, who is rather inept at his job as a detective, but, is superb as a bounty hunter.  His finesse at bringing fugitives to justice keeps him knee deep in danger and waist high in “benjamins”.  He is on the trail of an international murderer who recently arrived in Philadelphia.  Like all pulp fiction detective stories, there is an extremely desirable damsel-in-distress who just happens to fall into the arms of an ever-ready Mike Drummond.  You will not want to miss such an exciting tale of mystery and international intrigue, so, don’t make me come looking for you.

Freedom is a father.  Freedom is the proud father of two children who will be graduating from college in May of 2009.  Freedom says that it has been a long uphill struggle to pull it off, but, he has always lived in a village, and there were plenty of elders and kin to help see him through.  Freedom says that he would not trade the journey that he has taken with the two of them for all of the tea in China, nay, all of the gold in Fort Knox. Wait – does Freedom realize just how much gold is in Fort Knox?  Does Freedom realize that he could BUY two more graduating kids?  Somebody wake that man up!!  Please!

Freedom is retired, and has no plans on doing much of anything else in life besides writing, travelling, and enjoying the company of a beautiful Black woman.  Yes – Freedom is heterosexual.  Sorry, guys.  Freedom is lazy, but, that’s because he can afford to be.  He says that he has put in his time, and has stepped aside to give the young bucks a chance at earning a living.  After all, Freedom is not greedy.  But, Freedom is lazy.  He once adopted the motto “Batteries included, no assembly required”, which pretty much described Freedom’s outlook on life.  That phrase was later dropped for the ever-popular “No pain. no mutha f*ckin’ problem”.

Come play with me, says Freedom.  I won’t bite, except sarcastically.  Freedom says “I promise not to hurt you, but, your feelings, now, that’s a different story”.  Freedom wants to be your friend . . . unless you’re a moron.  If you are, then he just wants to insult you.  And, what does Freedom say about passes?

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Flava of the Day is “Poetry Man” by Queen Latifah