Sunday, November 30, 2008

History of Headaches

I’ve had headaches since I was little. They range from dull, bad, and damned near unbearable. All kinds of things can set it off. It’s usually annoying people that do it the fastest. The jacked up thing is that I’m just used to having aches and pains in my body. I cant remember the last time my knees and head didn’t hurt. Maybe in the early 90’s my knees stopped for a bit.

The headaches suck. Hard. They got really bad when I was 10 or so. My mother thought something was wrong like ringworms or something because the hair on my head fell out in circles in three spots in the back of my head. She wouldn’t let me shave my head bald so I wore a cap most of the time because the shit was embarrassing. I felt like a leper or something. At one point I was taken to the doctor. He checked me out and spoke to me after my parents left the room.

“What does a 10 year old have to worry about so much that his hair falls out?” he asked me.

“Everything” I replied.

And it was true. I used to stress and worry about everything under the sun. I never told my family but I would get nosebleeds as well. Oh, those were fun. I would just be walking around the house and feel it start to build up. I’d make it to the bathroom in time to watch a red fountain spill from my nostrils. They gave me some pills I assume were Prozac or its broke cousin. I took them twice and stopped. I have a ridiculous sensitivity to medications and those things made me feel “off.” That’s the best way to put it. My mother got pissed when she saw the bottle a month later and it was full.

My hair grew back eventually and the nosebleeds stopped. The headaches stayed however. When I was 19 I got some glasses and that helped quite a bit with the headaches. But even then a few months later they were back to normal and acting pissed like “How dare you try to get rid of us?!” To this day I have a constant headaches. Its funny. You’d think that after so many years that I’d get used to them. But that isn’t the case. I still have them and don’t know why. Well, I know why but I don’t know why they are so consistent.

I stress about a lot of shit. Its one of the reasons I try to avoid drama and folks that like it. I have to keep myself at a form of collected calm or else get the shit headaches that make me grumpy. I try not to take it out on others and will just write or read when they strike. I hate when people are going through shit and wanna aim their disgruntledness and others. So if I am not my usual jovial self its likely because I am experiencing a headache the likes of which many people call out from work over. Right now I have a bald spot that has been around for over a year which is the longest i've ever had one. It sucks because this has been the best year and the hardest year for me. I’m just rambling at this point. I need to go to sleep. Take care. Rockets.

Ray Day

Oh, what a crazy little day! I woke up after my semi-typical few hours rest and talked to my lady. Actually I think we instant messaged each other. After that I talked to my best friend Cam. I joked telling her that if I sent her a message at 3am that I wouldn’t go shopping with her. Yeah, right. Around 12:30pm she came and we were off.

First we went to Big Lots where I looked for new sheets and a shower curtain. Man, that place isn’t as cheap as they like to pretend on TV. The average price was $60. To hell with that. I’ll wait until I start working and head to Anna’s Linen’s or something. Cam returned a pillow that for some reason had a vendetta against her head. Oh, it was funny. In line there was this little kid acting a damned fool. He was for serious laying on the floor and screaming. We made eye contact and had a moment where I attempted to download his foolishness into his mind. It didn’t work as he continued to scream like a banshee the entire time.

Next we headed to Target but the amount of people there was ridiculous. We ended up parking at the 99 Cent store and walking towards Santa Monica Blvd. We stopped off at Best Buy so Cam could check out some stuff for her Wii. Best Buy didn’t have the awesome ass prices they advertise so we left. Oh, we had a time limit as we had only enough change for 45 minutes in the meter. Next we stopped at some small video game place where I looked for a video game. Cam got it for me as an early Christmas present and I was all kinds of happy. Seriously, I have wanted this game for over a year and never got it. I’ll be spending a lot of time learning how to play it tomorrow.

We made our way to Target and it was packed but not as insane as I seemed. I was so indecisive with shit. Cam got a dance pad and controller for Dance Dance Revolution 2. Next was the 99 Cent store and nyum nyum’s. They had these new Chee-too’s that were supposed to be cheese and barbeque. It was more barbeque than anything else. They were still good though. After that we went to Ralph’s to grab some stuff for dinner. I grabbed some cereal for a total of four boxes! Hey, don’t hate. I got some Honey Bunches of O’s at Target. I haven’t had those damned things in years and they are the coolness.

After we got to Cam’s place we hooked up her Wii. After some unsuccessful attempts to get the damned controller to work it was on! Cam played the tennis game (which I sucked all kinds of hard at) until she started making a turkey taco salad. I played the boxing and bowling games. That damned Wii is awesome! The boxing game had me all hyper. I was knocking fools out. I was okay at bowling and the baseball game whooped my Black ass.

Next was six full episodes of True Blood. Even after seeing the entire season that chick Tara’s voice bugs the shit out of me. Man, she is an ugly, ugly crier. I’m not saying I get Halle Barry cute or anything when I have a cry, but damn. She looked, as Cam said “like a turtle.” Tara’s mom was no better. Didn’t help she had the ugliest bra on ever. That bra screamed “I don’t plan on getting laid anytime soon!” with a dash of “This is just for keeping my boobs from hitting my knees.” The show was cool and then Cam dropped me off.

I got home and put everything away. It was a very cool fucking day. I love hanging with Cam. We’ll sit there watching shows all day or acting like fools while shopping and it just flies by all fast. It felt like two hours when it was actually closer to twelve. This was a good day and I wish there were more like it. It feels like I’m trying to get as much happy as possible or something. Hope the rest of ya’ll had a fun day and a cooler tomorrow. Not too cool, though. Its already cold as hell outside as I sit here with my stove on trying to get warmed up. Rockets.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Want A Ride...?

I took a ride with a stranger one time. Yeah, its one of those things I blast people about doing and swore that I’d never do but it indeed happened one day back in 1997 (insert wavy screen indicating flashback).

This was when I was still living with my folks a few months after graduating. I would stay at my ex’s place until around 10:30pm and then hop on the 105 down La Cienega and get home around 11:25 or so. This time though, things were different. I got to the stop at 10:35 or so and just stood around staring at the sky. I check my watch and, yeah, it’s around 11pm. I’m like, “Oh, this sucks!” I know that the bus isn’t coming and start trying to figure out how I am getting home.

I walk down to Fairfax and Santa Monica and wait for the 217 because I know that it runs 24/7 and is one of the most frequent buses in the city. Not that night. Around 12:45 a bus shows up and I jump on. I’m sitting there doing the possible violence math.

“Walking around South Central, L.A after 1am. Black. Wearing shitty shoes. Thin leather jacket. Let’s see where this goes.”

So I’m on the bus with two other chicks (no, I didn’t know them) and when we get to Fairfax and Olympic the driver goes, “Last stop!” I’m like, fuck you, man. Not out loud because I didn’t start cursing until around 4 years later. I get off the bus and sure enough I see that it was indeed the short line. I take the Shoelace Express and head towards home. I start doing the walking math.

“Bad shoes. Longer walk than expected. This is gonna suck so hard!”

I am walking past all these thugs and shit and just waiting for some shit to jump off. Now don’t let the smooth taste fool you, I can whip some ass when I need to. And those horrible ass shoes were hard and I was just imagining what it would feel like to kick someone with them. As I got near Pico and Fairfax a car drove by slowly. I was like “Here we go…” The car passed by and then circled again. And again. And again…what the fuck?! At this point I’m just waiting for something stupid to happen. The car pulls up next to me and rolls the window down.

“Need a ride?” this kinda geeky, chubby Black dude asks me.

My mind says, “Shit, no! Fuck you! I ain’t riding with no strangers!”

My mouth says, “Sure.”

Really, Dante?

I get in and buckle up happy that I don’t have to walk the rest of the way home. It was a little before Halloween and I saw some bags and stuff in dude’s car so I asked him if he’s taking his kids trick or treating.

“No” he says flatly.

We start talking about nothing and it feels like the longest car ride ever. He mentions that he works for Warner Bros. and I mention that I draw. He gives me his card. I give him my number in the hopes of getting a dream job drawing. Cool. He gets to my street and I get out a few houses before my own. He just sits there waiting for me to go inside. The problem is that he wont drive away. The other problem is that this neighbor has a motion sensor and if I get any closer the light will come on and they will be greeted by a skinny ass Black kid with a leather jacket standing on their porch. I turn and wave goodbye and he finally pulls off. I hop the bushes and rush inside.

I call my ex and her mom asks me how I got home. I tell her and she asks me if the guy was gay. I’m like, “Uh, no…” until things start clicking in my head. The mood change when I mentioned kids. Picking up random Black dudes late at night. Shit.

The next day he calls. Like, ten times. I pretend I am busy each time until I get sick of the shit. He actually asks me “Don’t you think you have room in your life for one more friend, Michael?” Yes, I gave him a fake name. You think I’m crazy? I tell him that I do not and that was the end of that.

I don’t know what the point of this blog was. Just another example of one of the many stupid things I’ve done in my life. Don’t ride in cars with strangers, people. You may end up with your balls as wind chimes and that’s not cool at all. Rockets.

If You'd Only Used A Kleenex...

"In the United States today, there is a pervasive tendency to treat children as adults, and adults as children. The options of children are thus steadily expanded, while those of adults are progressively constricted. The result is unruly children and childish adults." ~ Thomas Szasz

So once again I got asked the question that’s been plaguing me for well over a decade:

“When are you gonna have kids?”

It’s funny when you realize that I’m only 29 and have been asked this question since I was 18. I’m sure most people (if you’re at least semi-normal) will ask, “18? Isn’t that a bit too young to be having a kid?” Well, obviously you’re not a Ross. In my family you are supposed to start shooting out kids as soon as you’re out of high school. Hell, sometimes even while you’re still there. I have used my best weapon against the argument for me having kids and it never works. Logic.

“I don’t like kids.”

“I cant afford kids.”

“Kids suck.”

“I just don’t want a kid.”

“Me being the father of anything other than a pet or plant makes me nervous.”

It always falls on deaf ears. Like, if you wanna have a kid, awesome for you. I hope. It’s just not my thing. The idea of waking up knowing that I have to make sure this little version of me survives through the day scares the shit out of me. Not because I’m afraid that I’ll be a bad parent or not because I’m sure I’ll be a great dad. But because I don’t trust the planet. I wouldn’t be able to leave my kid in the hands of teachers that run around these days. I wouldn’t trust them to raise my kid properly.

“Raise?” you ask.

Yes. I think that folks don’t realize that teachers play such a huge part of the maturity of a child. Think about it. I was around my teachers more than my own family. From 7am until 3pm I was in their care. My parents fed my stomach but my teachers fed my mind…until late junior high and I started to hate school (again, for another blog). I don’t trust teachers with the mind of my never will be born child.

Also, I don’t need a legacy. I don’t feel the need to nurture a kid. Hell, it’s hard enough taking care of myself. Imagine me taking care of a kid. Scary, isn’t it? People have seen me with kids and always say that I’d be a great dad. Again, I’m sure I would be but I just cant do it. My own parents couldn’t raise me right. Another version of me? Man, I wouldn’t sleep around that kid. Oh, and if it were a girl? Dude! I would pray she be born a lesbian. Yes, I hate guys that much.

So if any of you reading this ever feel the need to ask me when I’m having a kid, remember this one thing: Dante doesn’t want kids. Ever. Rockets.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Thanks And Stuff...

Today was my official last day at work. And yes, I still feel fine. I am kinda bummed about the other job I was looking forward to heading falling through. Well, falling through is putting it lightly. It crashed.

The guy at the staffing place was all excited about the job he thought was perfect for me and would “utilize my skills!” I was already nervous heading in. It was like what I was doing in the mail room but with driving. In Torrance. And Hawthorne. Daily. Multiple times. For less pay. I passed. I mean, besides the fact that I don’t drive. More on that in some other blog.

The thing that bugs me more than anything is that I am an awesome ass worker. There hasn’t been a job yet that I’ve had that was hard for me to do. I’ve worked at two pet stores. I’ve read scripts. I worked at an adult store for damn near a decade. I worked at a hospital for over two years. Hell, the last time I worked at a hospital I had to move friggin’ dead bodies! What can’t I do?

Hold down a job apparently.

See, that’s just me being negative. I know that I can hold down jobs. Most folks I know have had way more jobs than me in a few years than I have in the 11 years since graduating. I hate change. I like stability. I am not one of those people that die if I’m not constantly trying new things. Does that make me boring? Maybe to most. But I like knowing what’s coming next.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I’ll be hanging with my lady and her family. Yeah, I’ll be dodging my family as I am ought to do. I saw them a few months ago for the “reunion” and that was enough for me. I hope everyone has a cool ass Thanksgiving and actually use the holiday for what its really for: being thankful. Me, I’m thankful for the awesome ass friends I have in my life, Kirby, Michelle, Lois, Andrea, Alex, Kiyoshi, and Merlyn. My sisters Camille, Heidi, and Jasmine. My family, Jaron, Ashley, Malakia, Ursula, Ebony, and Tony. And of course, my beautiful woman, Jess. I am thankful for the good and bad times I had this year because they taught me that I can make it through so much in my strange little life. Take care of yourselves. Rockets.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

We Love To See Your Ass, Er, Smile!

FAYETTEVILLE, Ark. - Here's some food for thought: If you have nude photos of your wife on your cell phone, hang onto it.

Phillip Sherman of Arkansas learned that lesson after he left his phone behind at a McDonald's restaurant and the photos ended up online. Now he and his wife, Tina, are suing the McDonald's Corp., the franchise owner and the store manager. The suit was filed Friday and seeks a jury trial and $3 million in damages for suffering, embarrassment and the cost of having to move to a new home. The suit says that Phillip Sherman left the phone the Fayetteville store in July and that employees promised to secure it until he returned. Manager Aaron Brummley declined to comment, and other company officials didn't return messages.

No. the real answer is: If you take naked ass photos on your cell phone you’re a jackass. How many celebrities have done this and acted shocked when the pictures got out? Newsflash: If you own a cell phone that has the ability to take pictures, anyone with the will and knowledge has access to whatever you say, write, or shoot.
You can’t blame McDonald’s or their management because you’re a jackass trying to spice up your boring ass love life by using your phone to send naked ass pictures. See, I have no problem with people taking pictures of each other. It can be the hotness. What I have a problem with is taking the pictures, saving them, and leaving your phone laying around. His wife should’ve been like, “I swear to God if you leave this somewhere I will kill you for real.”
If he left the phone why didn’t he just hop back in his car and go get it? I don’t care of it was late. The fact that he talked to the employees means it wasn’t closed. Hop in your shit, drive down there, and hope no one looked at what you had in there. Idiot. I am so tired of people not taking responsibility for their dumb ass actions. Was it right that someone put the pictures online? No. Was it right that the husband is a forgetful jackass? No. But $3,000,000.00 for damages? Please. Moving because of this shit? Oh, come on, dude. Your wife can’t be that hot. Live with the shame like the rest of the world and move on. Rockets.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Chicks, Man...

I don’t get along with guys well. There’s no other way to say it. The things most dudes are into I’m just not. I find conversations with them dull, unfocused, and just all around uninteresting.

It’s kinda always been this way. When I was little I would play with guys but talk to girls. I know a lot of it has to do with the fact that the women in my family were the more stable ones. I would sit in on conversations and contribute when I could much to the chagrin of my mother who said I was like a “cowbell” and had “diarrhea of the mouth.” Funny, I still to this day get accused of being quiet.

When I hung out in Little Tokyo (I’ll get to those stories one day) there would be a ton of guys and a few chicks. The chicks had either dated the guys or were in the process of doing so. I was there to just hang out and see something new. I never went to hook up. Also, I never understood how people would be into one type of person (there the chicks loved Black guys). For the longest time they thought I was gay because I wouldn’t hit on any of them or check them out. Look, I check out chicks. But what I look at is what they’re wearing or how they sound. I really don’t like bad voices. It’s one of my things. Anyway, I would talk to them for a long time about things while if I ventured over to the guys they were talking about where they could meet chicks, where they could see chicks, and where they could touch chicks. It’s so old. I mean, how many ways can you talk about what you want to do to a girl? I mean, yeah, there’s a lot but still.

All of my best friends are girls. Seriously. There’s my lady and three others I can think of immediately that I can talk to about almost anything. Guys? Meh. I can talk to a few of them about movies and stuff but it rarely gets deep. With chicks it can be anything from life, relationships, sex, and music. Sure, I can talk about those things with dudes but the conversations are usually way shorter.

I have had relationships where the chick was kinda jealous of the girls I talked to. It was just funny to me because I was like “She is actually like a sister to me.” And its true. I know it sounds like one of those typical male bullshit lies, but its true with me. One of my friends is like a little sister to me and I wish her the best and pray that she is happy. I pray that all my friends are happy and successful in everything they do. My chick friends know they can talk to me about anything and fall asleep around me without me grabbing their ass. I don’t even know where I’m going with this. I just felt like rambling. Rockets.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Living Room Wrestling

I don’t wanna be an actor but I love playing characters. It’s silly and I acknowledge that. I started my own wrestling federation with my friend Alex Hluch (check him out on because we got sick of bitching about how bad wrestling was and decided to make our own company. Thus was born Living Room Wrestling!


Alex has fallen back on his contributions to the company so I took it upon myself to just keep on making more and more characters to occupy my time. I try to make them unique and nothing like what is seen on TV right now. Allow me to roll call these crazy bastards.
Season Premiere: I made this guy as an extension of myself. He was pretty much the opposite of me or me if I decided to be a total asshole and amp my personality times ten. That’s what they say makes a wrestling personality interesting; just take yourself and multiply it. I made Season a trash talking, boastful, violent, greedy son of a bitch. I liked the character a lot and enjoyed playing him. The finishing moves were my favorite. The Season Finale, The Commercial Break, Sweeps, Re-Run, Hi-Def., Rolling Blackout, White Noise, and DVR. He was cool. I had him killed when I had to use my profile for just my own personal shit.
Stepdaddy: This one was fun as hell. I still have him and the thing I like about him is that I can give him as many kids as possible! Stepdaddy is pretty much a combination of the men I grew up around. Shit talking, bragging, mean, smoking, drinking, foul mouthed, and with a ton of kids he didn’t know. I don’t know where I got his look from. It’s just strange to me and doesn’t fit what a Black dude would wear.
HATE Inc.: This is just two of Stepdaddy’s kids. Kinky and K.C Jones. They are a tag team I made for a division that doesn’t even exist. I like the way they both look and it give me another reason to wear masks. I love wearing masks for some reason. I tell folks that if I wore a mask during the day I would behave very differently. Something about them is cool. In this movie “Mirrormask” this guy asks the chick character “If you don’t wear a mask, how are we supposed to know how you feel?”
Hector Con Carne: This is actually the first character I made in wrestling form. I wore the mask to my old job for no reason. I bought it at Hot Topic a long ass time ago and just loved it. Hector is just a naïve version of me that is afraid of conflicts but finds himself always in the middle of them.
Fantom: The newest guy I’ve made. I have made him pretty much the embodiment of the darkest parts of myself. If I gave up on life, found God, and took it too far believing it was my mission to save everyone from themselves. It also gives me a chance to play around with my movie maker programs.

There you have it. Check it out sometime. If anything it’ll make you nervous or laugh. Cool fact: Stepdaddy helped get me my job at the radio station.

I would write my responses in character and folks liked them. I mean, I did try out with my articles but it was Stepdaddy’s attitude that won the people over. This is also in the memory of my brother Kevin, who got me into this shit when I was 3 and I haven’t stopped since. Rockets.

The Parent Trap

I always say how I never say I am sorry about things. I just try not to do anything to fuck folks over and hope they return the favor. People say sorry to me and I don’t know how to take it. I mean, I’m not gonna forget what they said or did. So I don’t accept the apologies. Damn it. What is a man to do?

Whenever I think about my childhood I have some fun ass memories. I remember jumping from roof tops, riding in shopping carts, wrestling with my brothers and cousins, riding my bike in the backyard for hours until I remembered that I had to eat. But then I recall all the bad shit. The alcoholism from my dad. Being beaten. Having my own mother call me an asshole like it was my actual name. Parents of the Year candidates, they were not.

I know the thing that bugs me most is that they haven’t apologized. Yeah, it makes no sense. I don’t accept them and I figure its because people say them and all’s I can think is “Why the fuck don’t my parents apologize for how they treated me?” The things is they don’t remember. They legit never even acknowledge it. My mother has the memory of a goldfish and my father was drunk during most of my childhood. How can I expect someone to apologize for something they don’t remember? Oh, now you see the dichotomy I have set myself (or was born) into?

I used to wish that my parents would divorce. They split for a few weeks and it sucked so much dick and ruled so much ass at the same time. Like, on the weekends we stayed with my father and it was awesome. We went to church and I got to see my family that my mother let us see. We would rent movies (one of them being “American Tail” which I cant watch to this day because it made me cry like a bitch). And my fish tank was there. Then it would end and we’d have to go back to my mother and live in Sucksville, CA. Oh, and during this time I got hit by a car. Good times.

I know that one day I will have to forgive them. I know this. But damn it, it seems like I’m gonna fight it until the end. Maybe one day I will have an epiphany and all will be forgiven. Who knows? Stranger things have happened. Until that day I will keep seeing them once a year, not calling often, and keeping my life private from them. Rockets.

...And I Feel Fine!

Okay, so here’s the deal. Next week is gonna be my last week at my job. I work in a mail room and I loved the job. It was by far the easiest job I have ever had. But that’s not the main reason I liked it. Notice all of the past tense “ed”’s I throw in here. It was cool. I got along with everyone. The pay was decent. The schedule was hype. So why am I fine that it’s all ending soon?

Because the new plans they have for it suck a huge one. Besides the fact that everyone will be forced to help out folks they don’t have the man power to and everyone’s days will be all kinds of thrown off, they (permanent folks as opposed to my temp ass) may be losing their jobs very soon. Seriously, what the fuck is with that? It’s supposed to be privately owned, but come on, dude. Don’t bullshit me. I write stories. I know all about bullshit. I love the mentality that corporations have right before they let people go.

Work you like a dog, fuck with your living, and hope you quit so they don’t have to cough up that unemployment. Well played. I have been looking for work and I pray that next week I will have something solid. The idea of not working does not excite me one bit. I am not one of those people that love being home doing bullshit. I feel bad for some of the guys I work with. Some of them (again, notice the subtle use of words like “some”) are really cool guys that are hard workers and have been there for years, a few over a decade. It’s not right that they will have to start looking for a new job. I will keep them in my prayers.

My lady asked if I was still praying and in case you’re reading this, babe. I am. I haven’t stopped since I started. It keeps me level headed and grounded. I think of all the shit that has happened to me in my life. The times I could’ve been hurt or killed. Homeless. Whatever. And I am still standing. Sorry, I’m having an Antwoine Fisher moment here. No matter what has happened I have still been able to be a good friend, mate, and worker. I don’t get worse in the face of adversary. I get better. I pick up new things no matter where I work and I do well whether I put 100% into it or not. At my current job I was putting in maybe 35%. Imagine what close to 90% would look like.

In the meantime I will stay your friendly neighborhood Negro. I will stay strong, positive, and as cynical as ever. Hope all of you are doing well and taking care of each other out there. It’s some crazy times we live in but as long as we have each other and watch one another’s backs we’ll be cool. Rockets.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Forever Hold Your Peace?

Why is it that we’re so deceptive? We get asked simple questions and we just flat out lie. “How are you doing?” “How was your day?” “Are you comfortable?” “Did you fart?” Simple little things and yet we’ll lie just to make others comfortable. Good forbid we actually told the truth every once in a while!

Today a supervisor asked me how I was doing. “Pretty miserable” I replied, telling the truth. I was. I am about to lose my job that I have been temping at for almost 10 months because of cutbacks (yet they can spend hundreds on sandwiches no one likes because they taste like cardboard!). She replied “Oh, that’s go...Oh!” Why do people have that automatic response of “That’s good!”

I wish people would just tell folks how they really feel when things are bothering them. It would make life so much easier. If someone asks how you’re doing just tell the truth. Don’t even give yourself a chance to lie or bullshit them. Why do we compromise our self for the comfort of others? The funny thing is that it’s usually a stranger. Oh, don’t even get me started on that.

I think I am done rambling for my first blog on this thing. I don’t know who will read this or whatever. But that’s how I roll. Ya’ll don’t listen to most of the nonsense I say anyway, right? Rockets.