Life, love, hip hop, humor AND instructions on how to cook a bangin'-ass meal... all in one place. I put the words here, make what you want of them.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Leaders vs. Followers

People, we have been trained by a vague understanding of what exactly defines a leader vs. a follower...

In the shower, I got to thinking, and a couple of metaphors came to mind…


[Phlip note – “in the shower/car/office/torture chamber" is how a great many of these might find themselves beginning]


Why is it that we allow ourselves to let our heroes and their sidekicks define what we think of as a leader versus a follower?


Stay with me here…


As anyone who knows me knows, I am MADLY a basketball fanatic and while I can concede that the combination of Cheese Eyes’ on-court contribution and off-court influence combine to make him the best player we have yet seen, I am STILL of the opinion that he was as much a co-leader of that team than he could have EVER been the hands-down leader.

Stick a pin in that, it will come up later in the post.

Okay, with that said, I am sure that some of you are thinking “well what in the blue hell is he talking about?
Think about it like this. Who would you rather have on your team; one dude who is head and shoulders above EVERYONE you might put in front of him – paired with 4 who know PRECISELY their roles and 500% willing to play them – or do you want 5 (or 3 out of 5) dudes who ALL feel as if they are (or can be) top motherfucking dog and have that fact cause the division that will make you second-at-best?

Think about that long and hard [pause…] before continuing on here…

There, you ready?

Thank you!
Sometimes, our leadership is not what is to be taken to mean that we are the driver, so much as the navigator. Necessity to be ‘da man’ is not paramount when our eyes are fixed on the prize. Yes, Jordan has 6 rings and Kobe has (as of this writing) 5… If not for Scottie Maurice Pippen and Derek Lamar Fisher, respectively; none of us who happen to be rational thinkers can imagine ANY of these eleven titles to be, honestly.


[Phlip note – I am not ignoring the contributions of ANYONE on either team, but that is not where I am going in this]

Anyway…

That dude in the office that comes in 10 minutes early, looks about the company intranet site and bookmarks shit for what you think is nothing and you think is wasting his time – but ALWAYS has the RIGHT answer – yeah, that dude? Is he a follower, is he a sheep, or is he making his job easier for the greater good of anyone who can hear him speak when he bothers?
Do these elements make that dude a leader or a follower?
With the facts being as they are, his motions that leave him prepared for the day and perhaps come off as a bit of a kiss-ass even if he speaks to no one in general show that he concedes to his established leadership while still operating as a team player.

Does this fall into our established norms as to what a leader OR a follower are?
hell no!

Does the simple fact that he is not in a position of authority – normally reserved for the douche-canoe in the room – make him a “follower,” as understood?
FUCK no!

That is the second (after the kiss-ass, naturally) that management will call on for help after the one who announced their prowess and failed in a hailstorm of excuses and cover-ups.

Back to the Jordan/Pippen situation…
it is now 2010… Jordan has been out of the league for 12 years (I will not recognize the Washington Wizards Debacle), and in the current league we find a whole generation who would do best to fashion themselves after him. In my mind, however, the most valuable players on EACH of those teams is the dude who concedes that his role is to play his role and uses that to play it to the abso-fucking-lute HEIGHT of value available.
Did the late-80s/90s Bulls have a clearcut leader?
HELL yes!
Can we use the finished product as an example of what “co-leadership in the face of precedent” means?
FUCK yes!

Current-league comparisons…
Those as-described Bulls had what they had.

Look at what we have now, and look at what it has netted on the in-between. By “in-between,” I will only be bothered to look at the current league/season situation.

L.A. Lakers…
Kobe is Jordan, Pau Gasol is Pippen…
Yes, I know that Gasol is – and even in this writer’s opinion – the league MVP if records and current trends continue, but still….
Derek Fisher is STILL Derek Fisher, and now Shannon Brown and Lamar Odom CAN NOT be ignored in their roles.
Does playing your role to the fullest extent of your ability make you a “follower”?
Or does it make you just as much a leader as the dude whose name is on the marquee EVERY night? Do you bitch about shared attention – in overt or covert action – or do you show your leadership by sharing it for the greater good?

Miami Heat…
LeBron James and Dwyane Wade are playing the same games as they did before they were teammates… Since this leads the team(s) to (have) WATCHED them play, the “co-leaders” approach becomes a competition and not a cooperation. Sorry, folks... Batman and Superman would not have made a good team.


[Phlip note – word to the Spirit of Truth]


The end results of this comparison are proof-in-the-pudding… The team that was expected to run tables is disappointing and hanging dangerously close to .500 ball, while the most underrated 2-time champions are continuing the behavior that made them 2-time champions completely under the radar.

Using my long-drawn sports metaphor, is it deniable how valuable it is to use one’s understanding of role played in the grand scheme of leadership? Properly playing your role does not a follower one make. Instead, it makes a smart winner with mind on the greater good.

Drop the “alpha dog/queen bitch” mentality, folks, it gets you nowhere.

and this does not apply only to sporting, this is some life shit... Robin was just as much a hero as Batman, and that has just as much to do with his willingness to concede to leadership, as opposed to assuming that he was worthy of it himself and spoiling the greater good.

Sport and art imitate real life, and that is why there is so much ad revenue in them.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

If I could be like 'Nique... wait, what?

There seems to be very few questions on who some players in the NBA are compared to most times…
Kobe is compared to Mike, whether Cheese Eyes himself or any of his minions will admit to the validity of it.

[Phlip note – we can leave it to the nice folks of bleacherreport.com to explain their argument for the validity of comparison]


Carmelo Anthony has a lot of George Gervin in him, in the sheer number of ways he can find (and make) his shot.

Kevin Durant is Larry Bird; not a freak athlete like his peers, but more than makes due with effort and the use of the skillset he does have.

I could go on and on, but I would rather get to the point.

LeBaron James…

[Phlip note – yes, I know it feels like I am picking on the guy… well I am]


I am inclined to compare him to Dominique Wilkins more than I am the first person that people try to compare him to; Magic Johnson.
Perhaps it has a great deal to do with the fact that I am a Lakers fan since my Granddaddy was and Magic is a legend in Lakers lore, so I do not have it in me to rate lesser beings on the level with such.

Bust the facts…

Lebaron James:
  • 6’8”
  • 250lbs
  • 27.8PPG
  • 7.0RPG
  • 7.0APG
  • 2003-04 Rookie of the Year
  • 1 x NBA Scoring Champion
  • 6 x All-Star, 2 x All-Star MVP
  • 2 x NBA MVP
  • Named after the worst car that Chrysler ever made.

Dominique Wilkins:
  • 6’8”
  • 230lbs
  • 24.8PPG
  • 7.6RPG
  • 2.5APG
  • 1 x NBA Scoring Champion
  • 9 x All-Star
  • 2 x NBA Slam Dunk Champion
  • Euroleague and Greek Cup Champions (MVP of both, 1996)
  • Named after fake diamond product sold on QVC


Disparity MIGHT be noted on their weights – never even minding that LeBaron’s is rumored to be more than his listed 250. Personally, I don’t buy that shit when considering his knees are not already fucked with the way he plays.
However!!!
Understand that Dominique came up in a league where anyone 6’8” and 230 might as soon play power forward and would surely find himself guarding centers sometimes… But he didn’t. With that said, a 6’8” and 230 pound dude, when counted in 1982 math is equal enough to a 6’8” and 250 pound one in 2010 money.

Several parallels can be drawn to between their careers beyond just physical size. Both were prolific scorers when going to the hoop and used their physical gifts – both at their times unheard of to the league – to make someone a poster on any given night.

[Phlip note – in fact, the earliest “in my poster” that I STILL remember is a 3-footer that my older sister had on her wall if Dominique defining what we would come to know as the definition of “embarrassed” to a defending player]

Spotty jump-shooting, questionable defensive habits erased by simply bullying the shit out of the opposing player, or simply being able to jump higher than normal human beings to erase those flaws. Each was/is overrated to the point where their shortcomings were/are overshadowed by their physical gifts.
Both players are/were reluctant passers. The edge falls to LeBaron in that while he has NEVER learned to play without the ball, he will at least enter a play with the possibility of making a play for someone else, and a +4.5 assist average will easily speak to that. Where LeBaron passes as a means to getting his name on SportsCenter, ‘Nique DIDN’T pass en route to becoming the highlights that made a not-yet-born LeBaron WANT to be on SportsCenter.



One more place where their careers share a dubious similarity is in the playoffs. Personally, I am more inclined to place Dominique’s losses on his generally one-dimensional game being more easily exposed by competition. Having to play in the eastern conference during the reigns of Detroit’s Bad Boys, Bird’s Celtic teams and of course the Cheese Eyes-led Bulls regime(s) is an ugly fucking proposition. They showed, making the post season in all of his years in Atlanta, only twice seeding in the bottom half the standings – twice even first – but never even made the NBA finals.

LeBaron, coming from a more terrible beginnings with the team – joining via draft (and during Carlos Boozer’s screwjob) and not via trade – would not make the playoffs until his third season. From there, he would always be in the top of the conference, having had the league’s best record two of them and surprising the world, carrying the team to the NBA Finals before being swept. That feat would be the similarity to ‘Nique’s 47-in-a-loss in Boston in 1988. From there, it would be big showings, blowouts and sideline dancing during the regular season, followed by unceremonious exits from the playoffs just short of all expectations, followed by excuses.


Now to the “end,” which would be the downswing of ‘Nique’s career – in which his most oft-compared rival was racking up rings, taking adventures to avoid being kicked out of ball for gambling and then coming back to get more rings – while Nique gets nothing. Really not his fault, considering how horribly run an organization the Hawks were. Hell, they traded the team’s best and most popular player ever in the middle of a 36-16 season to the Clippers (if that ain’t a slap in the face). He would turn up the heat for a non-contender for the balance of the season, stopping by to light their asses on fire to the tune of 36 and 10 on the way through town.
Following the season, he signed in Boston but split town when he saw that rebuilding was coming, instead choosing to go to Europe and monster on their leagues, winning two championships and MVP awards, with one attempted return to the NBA and one final hoorah before retiring. Yes, it was as much a hall of fame career as one could expect from someone who, for all his actions, came from his career with not a lot of hardware.

LeBaron’s story is fresher in our collective memories, so I can probably skip it… Dragging a team from the depths of hell to the league elite, only to fail on the biggest stage – twice with no excuse and appearing to have quit – then escaping, via a TERRIBLY carried out process to what should have been greener pastures, only to have found trouble in paradise way earlier than most thought possible.
To his credit, his story is still being written, but damned if it ain’t starting to look like something we’ve seen before. Luckily, we also know the means to fixing the shit, but to his criticism, he seems totally oblivious to his own culpability in this mess. I know that he did not single-handedly bring this Miami Heat fiasco to be, and was acting within his rights to change teams, considering that he too was stuck with a bad organization… The fact remains that he is the FACE of the team, damning what anyone says about it being “Wade’s team.” Dwyane Wade’s name is not on a sneaker. The wins will be credited to the dude with the biggest highlights on ESPN every morning, and so shall the losses.


If he wins, there is no question as to whether his name is welcomed in the Parthenon of the greats.

If he doesn’t, then EVERYTHING worth questioning (and a bunch of shit that isn’t, but will be anyway), then he joins the ranks of Mitch Richmond and Dominique, who were forced to sit and watch their peers win the big shit that matters. His Cleveland Cavaliers were to the Lakers and Spurs as ‘Nique’s Hawks were to the Celtics, Lakers and Bulls.
And while that is a career that can and has netted people entrance into the hall of fame, it has to feel REAL empty to have not led one to the promised land.

For now, the similarities are more to those who have ALMOST done it than it is to those who have.
And we all know that close only counts in horseshoes, hand-grenades and shit-fights.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

"You me, and Wii... What's it gonna be, baby?"

The more I hear about some peoples’ relationshits, the better and better I feel about my own… As a great many of the two of you may have been informed via text message – or notice from wall postings on FaceBook – I was given my Christmas present early this year when The Katie bought me a PlayStation 3 two weeks ago. The first night I got it, a Monday, my brother and I hooked it to the Vizio, set up PSN accounts and profiles and all that goodness, but I did not play the damned thing until Wednesday after work…
I took notice, though, some mention of the short-sighted of the world questioning the wisdom of her decision to give it to me. The question was of the gift in general, not of the time frame of the giving of it. I would go on to hear stories that were always of one of two extremes…

  • Male: man, it got to the point where I only play after she goes to bed or I am home alone, she complains about me playing any time I LOOK at it.

  • Female: I don’t know WHY she gave you that thing, you gonna ignore her now and she’ll wind up hating it!


Infrequent were comments that would look at the middle ground of these things, where maybe, just perhaps, we might find ourselves actually playing video games together, or at least during shared times right there with one another.
F’rinstance… I work 8-5 Monday thru Friday on one job and 6-9:15 as needed on the other… Katie works 7-5:30 with 3 days off a week, but has class 3 nights a week until like 930. Often, our time spent actually sitting and talking is done over dinner, then video games or a football/basketball game is on (and yes, we can watch those together too). Being that Bruiser has a thing for making whomever has situated themselves on my couch into his own personal fetch partner (so don't be surprised if you ever come to my house and he comes up and puts a stuffed animal in your lap, then looks at you until you throw it), the fact that we’re BOTH on the couch during these times, they more often than not become a family moment with a relentlessly happy dog wagging his tail away the whole time…
All while the PS3 is still going, regardless of which of us is playing.

There you have it. I have time to spend doing something I enjoy. I have time to do it whether my other half is home with me or WILL BE home with me. I can take solace in knowing that she knows that I am home and safe, even if she cannot be right there with me. However, when she does arrive, she is a willing participant and not left to lay in wait for her turn with me.

On the other hand, people have copped to having envy issues when it comes to these things in that their own "she" may feel that he is paying more attention to “that damned game” than he is to her, whether or not this is ACTUALLY the case. We all know that perception is a large percentage of each individual’s version of the truth.


Out of curiosity, I presented my thoughts to The Book of Face, asking…

“Why do some women (not mine, for the record) get so bent out of shape when their Significant other plays video games? This one isn’t a ‘question of the day’”

As ever, one of my respondents was former coworker, Tiffany, with…
"It's ok if they handling their business, but some dudes let the video games come before paying bills (they buy new games/systems and haven't even paid the rent or bought a crumb of food for the house), spending time with the kids or his woman, sex, basic hygene, eating, sleeping....pretty much everything. I've even known some to miss work over a tournament or standing in line to buy the newest system. smdh."

Then friend of a friend, A.M. Hatter, with…
"While I generally view it as a waste of time, I wouldn't get bent out of shape if he didn't play all the time. My cousin's now ex-husband, for instance, actually moved her out of the way when she straddled him to keep playing the game. That moment was when she decided to divorce."

[Phlip note – DAMN!!!]

Next was another former coworker, Portia, with…
"I agree as long as it doesn't consume ur time & u can prioritize...I actually LOVE playing video games but since I prefer older men most of them don't play,so its really not been an issue for me..the other reason cld be cuz the female does feel left out."

[Phlip note – how old is “older”? I mean, I’m 31 and I play video games, as do cats I know within 5 or so years older than I am… Furthermore, what the hell does it matter? Most of these games ain’t for kids anymore anyway.]



Now don’t get me wrong, here… I like video games just fine, as in fine enough to give an hour or two of my spare time to them, but not so much that I am not working, paying bills and eating. As a fat dude, earning my food budget, and then applying it to what matters, and not recreation, takes precedence over Madden 2011.
Just the same, my interest in my woman has taken continued precedence over video games in general, otherwise I might have HAD a PS3 by now, and I would play more of the ones that I DO have since becoming involved with her. Example would be served by explaining that the most of any game I have played since meeting her would be my completing of Lego Batman late last year, then randomly throwing in old installments of the Need For Speed franchise, playing for a few minutes and then not touching the old PS2 for weeks at a time.

The Corollary to that would be the dude who wakes up playing COD or some such, goes to work (or not!), then comes home and immediately picks it back up. During all of this, his girlfriend/wife is posting passive-aggressive Tweets and FaceBook statuses about him as if no one he knows can see her page.
Or the one whose wife is a fucking nag, and every time he sets foot outside the house, he is thought to be inserting himself inside of a vagina that does not belong to her. When he comes back home, he has to argue about it, whether or not he actually wants to or has done anything. Instead of facing a daily heated discussion, he fires up the old Xbox and wails away on third-world minorities while she remains quiet.
“well shit, if I’m at home, at least she knows that I ain’t out fuckin nobody else,” he thinks to himself – and he would be correct in thinking so, given what he has been told about her issues with him and video games.
To address what he has been presented with, he would be right, except for now the issue will become that he was home all night – therefore not with some other broad – but he was not paying her enough attention. In other words, it was a good thing he did play Fight Night until the wee hours, because he wasn’t fuckin’ anything anyway.


Which leads me back to the very beginning of this post… I am damned glad that I managed to allow other people to have these problems so I wouldn’t have to. Katie plays the game just as much as I do – so much that even my brother commented on her mounting trophy collection, lol – so quite naturally we have an understanding that we now have something in the house that we both can enjoy. It is also worth noting that we have enough imagination as it relates to one another to spend a major amount of available time with one another OUTSIDE of the house as well…
But there again, that is more a testament to the inherent value of an involved couple actually LIKING one another, as opposed to just being together for convenience. I find it rather messed up, though, for people to assign me their own failures in relationships at the very MENTION of being into video games. It is that same approach of peoples' rushing to define everyone based upon their own shortcomings that has served as the cause for me to come up with a new and creative way of telling someone to eat a dick every few days on twitter.

That said, if I ever get straddled or otherwise suggested that it is “naptime” (use your adult imaginations for that one), then I have no qualms with powering down and doing the more important instead.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

"Guilty Pleasures"... a conversation

Thought of this one in the shower a few days back, then forgot to post it for 2 days at least… Just thought to do it from the phone just now.
Curiosity fully piqued, I figured that I would ask the people…

“Question of the day… What is/are your guilty pleasure/pleasures?”

Yeah, this one should be EXTRA fun, provided the people actually play along.


First respondent was former coworker/longtime friend-of-a-friend Lynette, with…
"Cheeseburgers...smh..."

The next response was from the homie/forum member Mel, with…
"The Twilight Series and Vampire Diaries."

Next respondent asked to remain anonymous, and came with…
“You know what? If it is truly a pleasure then I am not guilty about it. I correct people on the most minor of things.
I wait for people to show an opinion on something, then disagree vehemently even if I do so while claiming to have no real opinion.
If anyone is enjoying anything that I happen not to, I must tell them how stupid they are for it, even if I simply don't understand said item.
I could keep going…”


[Phlip note – DAMN!!!]

Next would be the homie Joe, with…
"Oh boy... Well I might as well be 110% honest.... Pr0ns, Lady Gaga, Vocal Trance, buying cars I don't need and can't afford, 80's pop music, Kelly Clarkson, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand redheads."

Next was best friend, Roger, with…
"I dont have any. I dont feel guilty about anything i enjoy."

Next was my mother, with...
"I carly and Spongebob"



As for me?
Sheeit, I don’t know where to begin.

  • No song is safe in my clutches… When a song comes on the radio, I WILL change the words to it in varying levels of inappropriateness and hilarity, depending on my mood.

    To this ends, Afion Crockett's "Douche It!" caused Katie to ask "damn, was he in the car with us?"

  • I have developed a special skill for knowing when I am under someone’s skin and will set about the task of making them HATE me once I have decided that bridge should be burned.

  • It sometimes seems like I LIVE to give overly self-involved people the opposite of what they seek by simply not granting them the attention they seek, despite obvious advances.

  • Pr0ns

  • A habit of random and very disruptive noisemaking whenever a situation becomes too silent, even if it is a loud fart.

  • I am notorious for feeding nosy people just enough to keep them asking questions while stopping well short of telling them ANYTHING that they're actually seeking.

  • I curse too motherfucking much.

  • “What has been seen cannot be unseen,” in which most off times – time of year be damned – will see me walking around my house in nothing more than my drawz, but often nothing at all… You should probably call before coming over.

There is also a list of things that I can’t even think of right off the top of my head to put in this list. I’m sure of it. All of them WOULD count as “guilty pleasures” for most if not for the fact that, like Roger, if I were so put off by them that I felt guilty about them, then they would probably not be described as pleasures.
I just found it a bit interesting to see what people would share of their own.
Thanks, all!

Making a case against the necessity of literacy...

[preemptive Phlip note - I know the title of this blog is made ironic by its very location and medium... I got a chuckle out of it]


Not that 31 is “old,” but I know I had more time to read when I was younger… Strange thing, that, seeing as how up to about 25 years old, I easily doubled the number of hours “worked” (counting being in class from 8am-1:40pm, then working 8-10 hours a day 5 days a week and 4-5 hours two others – overtime is a BEAST) compared to right now. Another thing I had more time and money for at the time was music, so much that the two hobbies’ time spent would more often than not intersect. No worries about many other things, considering the internets still sucked at the time as it were. All we HAD was music, Playstation and books.
I moved into my house last August and closed on it in October (see previous blog for details on how that worked out), but I had not moved all my stuff in until damn near April of this year. Even now, one year and almost 2 weeks after closing on the house, I am still unpacking stuff being stored in a spare bedroom as they come necessary to exit that room. Clearing one bin out, full of old Source/XXL/Vibe magazines, I came to one that was packed to the gills with books. Novels, non-fiction, reference and a couple of other things.
As I cleared that box, to move the items contained to the file cabinet/bookshelves I noticed a strange set of occurrences…



I could continue, but I am not sitting in that room right now to remember what else I pulled from that damned bin…
What I noticed, though, is that there was once a time where even the most IGNORANT of rappers (or musicians in general) could show you that they’d picked up a book at some point in their lives and comprehended what it was they’d read. If you could play me 5 songs in rotation on urban radio that would even SUGGEST this, let alone prove it as fact, I would--… you know what? Never mind, it won’t fucking happen.

Anyway, I was thinking about it just the same. Even “dumb” hip hop (or ‘rap’ as today’s self-righteous internets douchebag would call it) had some value, even if it only came under the guise of a dude who had been sent the Donald Goines collection while doing a summer in the county.

[Phlip note – as entertaining as those books were, anyone with an 11-th grade education should be able to finish one in 2 hours tops]

Nowadays, though? No dice! As has been discussed at long length on sites that are NOT The Musings of a Madman…, today’s “dumb” rappers are cashing in on being legitimately dumb. When pressed for WHY they continue to make bad music, as if not even trying, their response is usually something in the neighborhood of “sheeit, n**ga, I’m getting’ MONEY! I don’t need to worry about that lyrical shit!”

[Phlip note – I shit you not, Waka Flocka and OJ Da Juiceman, possessors of two of the worst rap names ever shat out, each said something JUST like that!]


So where does that leave us? Where there was once a time where musicians would read a book, then sit down with a beat tape and a pen/pad and write a musical adaptation of what they’d just read…
Fuck, makes me wish I could rap when I was in school, I would have aced EVERY book report I was ever forced to write. Example? Nas’ “Black Girl Lost,” which was one of the aforementioned Goines novels. Again, not being at home right now keeps me from cross-referencing my book collection to my music library, but I’m sure the both of you get it…

What does it all mean, though?
Actually, it means that - as I discussed 2 weeks ago – that expectations have been effectively lowered. We have a climate where formerly successful rappers are succumbing to the Tax Man (Method Man) and a complete void of thought of who NOT to insert their penis and the fallout by way of predatory child support laws in some states (Hi Nas!). On the other hand, people like Gucci Mane can drive a Hummer on the wrong side of the highway with no license or insurance, run from the cops, and eventually get put down with pepper spray, but still be on television talking about it within the week, after seeing a judge who HAD to have called his past into question.
Elementary school dropouts go on to make more in a year making BAD music than I have made in the 15+ I have been working, a great much of that while in school.

I guess the homie Tony Grands™ was right when he told us that "Reading & Writing is for Dumb People©"?
Yeah, to hell with this pride, education, hard work until I’m 70 bullshit, effective this weekend, I am retiring effective this weekend, I will buy $10 worth of powerball tickets and do ALL I can to get myself signed under Gucci or someone like that. It’s not like I need to be able to rap or anything like that. I know that this would require me employing diction that would make me hate myself, but that is a sacrifice I am willing to make in the name of getting my life back on track after all the time I wasted on actually behaving like an intelligent and decent respectable human being.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Double Parkin'

So, I am pulling into the lot on lunch just a few minutes ago… It is Monday so the lot is full of course. This will mean I have to park in the back. Once there, I notice a peculiarity…



Well, we all know I don’t like peculiarities, so I had to adjust where I had positioned my car as a result. I would hate for this guy's 'Vette to get all lonely in the corner of the parking lot.




Hey, at least I parked MINE in one space, a real space at that.


If I wake up one day afraid to be a dick to those who deserve it, I will be terribly disappointed in what I’d become.

New Technique...




Yeah, I been seeing those credit repair/"fix your credit thingies" in different flavors around town for a LONG time, and I actually gave a little thought to using one of them last year, the vagueness of them worried me out of blowing my cash.

Here’s the thing, though… Like a great many colored folks, I was once young/dumb and in such kinda loose with my credit. All I knew is that I was given some payment devices and I would go on to use them without thinking about who would pay them and when. I have learned the error of my way. I set about the task of fixing the problem and making proper decisions and building proper habits. It was also an effective deterrent that I was made deathly afraid of credit by my prior fuckups.
As a great many of the two of you know, this approach – with some luck and an assist from a credit card company that has since closed their doors – led to my repairing that magic number that too few understand properly well enough to score a deed to some property with my name on it 366 days ago.

So I was thinking… What if I established a phone number, printed up some of those signs and started putting them all over the place?
No, stick with me here. I could get the phone number established – probably with a pager company so as to minimize cost to me – and man it with a voicemail beckoning people to send a Money Order for $250.00 to a PO Box. They would provide a list of standard information that one would expect to need to cough up when repairing their credit. Once the money orders are received, they are cashed at the post office or Western Union, whichever they were drawn on, and the peoples’ personal information shredded and tossed into file 13.

Wait, what?

I never said WHOSE credit was being repaired, just that credit was being repaired!
A money order is as good as cash, but to avoid being caught or traced, it would be CASHED and not deposited, then the cash deposited or used to pay the necessary bills to sway that FICO score closer and closer to that magic-but-seemingly unattainable number 800.

Again, the vagueness is the key here. Never claiming WHOSE credit rating is being fixed is the key to being able to take these gifts from people. I would use them to further repair my own and then building a proper nest egg with which to retire somewhere in the neighborhood of 35-40 years old so I can travel the world and have adventures and shit.

You can’t prove to me that this is not what THEY are doing, now can you?