Doing Things

~

I won't lie to you, dear reader.

(Often, at least)

But this proud black man couldn't be happier as he scrambles like Michael Vick to line up a place to live, work for his girlfriend Qwa'cinda, (Who maybe he'll just call Q) a resolution to Q not currently owning a vehicle, and a way to stop himself from dropping F-Bombs when he plays basketball with the mormons.

And no, blogger, I'm not going to go all the way back up there to capitalize the word mormon. If you want to do it so badly you just go ahead and make the adjustment automatically. In fact, if you're so smart why aren't you already doing it? Doesn't it pain you to see me not capitalize so many deserving words? I'm a serial non-capitalizing muthafucka, muthafucka!

Maybe I do it on purpose, blogger. Huh? Have you thought about that? (Put that in your pipe, and smoke it mister!) Doesn't feel good when someone tells you how to do things, does it? Make suggestions constantly?

Since we're on the subject of suggestions, maybe you could load a goddamn picture into the post where I want it and not automatically up at the top of each post. Listen, monkey. When I want you to dance, you dance. I can't be cutting and pasting pictures of Nicholas Cage's bird hair all goddamn day long, you know. (Hat tip: Film Drunk)



So, with that out of the way I think I can move along.

It's time I do something nice for everyone. Why? Because I'm trying to offset Karma so I don't have retarded babies some day. You've read my blog for a while now. You're an accomplice. Maybe you should do something nice for someone too. You can never be too sure.

The other day I held a door for a really slow old lady. I mean, this bitch was slooooow. I understand if you're pulling an oxygen tank around you probably have emphysema. I get it. But the thing is on wheels for crying out loud! There's virtually no resistance to it. Just hold on and move your ass through the door, it's cold out!

OK, so maybe I just ruined that good deed. But there was also the fat smelly guy who delivered the food for me yesterday and got a larger than normal tip. I'm sure he'll just go spend it on food, the fat fuck, but that was nice, right?

Damn. I think I see a zero sum pattern forming.

Well, let me tell you a story about why I'm giving you this gift below today. I was trying to get Q to move here and it went sort of like this...

C'mon baby, just move here.

Come here now!

Baby, come here.

Come.

Here.

Come, baby.

Come, baby. Come.



(Turns out these guys still perform. As little as four months ago these guys were performing this and their other hit Zeunga Zang live. FOR PEOPLE!)

I hope Q enjoys it here. I plan on taking her each night to this soundtrack. I'll have her get herself ready in the bedroom and I'll wait in the hall during the initial buildup, possibly doing pushups and situps to tighten things up and get a little glisten going. Then, and my timing will have to be perfect with this, but I'll open the door dressed as a Viking Warrior...



...and just as K7 says it I'll "SLAM THE DOOR, BOOM!" as I enter the bedroom, simultaneously disrobing and leaping twelve feet into the bed in one fluid motion.

It's going to be magical.

And you're welcome.