I am not famous
for a living.
Shit, I am not famous for free.
I guess you could venture as far as to say I am not famous at all.
There was a time in
my younger days where I would legit get angry when people talked about me. I really didn’t want the attention, mainly
because it was usually negative. Not
that there is this aura of negative around me, but I watch people enough to
know that when they’re discussing people and not places/things/ideas, then that
conversation is very rarely positive.
I learned, though, that you can’t stop ‘em from
talking. What you can, however, control
is what they have to talk about. It
makes sense to me that if a motherfucker is trying to hang me, the last thing I
want to give them is more rope.
1 – Don’t tell ANYONE everything you know.
Some shit ain’t
for everybody. Some shit ain’t for
anybody. If ever, these days I find
myself at a juncture where I can’t tell betwixt the two, the world will be
largely uninjured by ALL being treated…
(wait… Joe Jackson
isn’t dead yet? Well damn, is he like a
little bit sick or something? Oh well,
I think you see
where I am going with this one. Previous
winners would include the likes of Earl Woods and Richard Williams.
While the days of whooping your kids asses in order for you to live off of
their success are gone, there still exists a world where you can push them to
continue to do something they may or may not actually want to do to the point of extreme success, for which you will
yourself be rewarded with a share of.
one exactly knows whether or not a young Eldrick Woods actually wanted to play
golf, but his father – an old-school Black man raised through Jim Crow – pushed
his son to be good at what was and still kind of is a white man’s game. It worked to the point where he was the best
to do it for a very long time.
On that same
token, no one exactly knows whether Venus and Serena Williams themselves wanted
to play tennis. W…
How the shit do
these people find me? [Phlip note: I know my email, FB, Twitter, Paypal and website handle
are all the same… it was a rhetorical
Minding my own damn business on a seasonably warm November
afternoon. Looking busy working
on a project, waiting on SOMETHING to stem the tide of a series of bad newses.
I get an email…
I was kind of concerned about how I could carry this one for
her. I had some questions that might help me to my decision…
Does this house
have a garage? Yes Does this guy have a car? Yes
Do you still at
least hang out outside the house from time to time? Yes
Do you drink? No
Does HE drink? Yes
Would it be a far
stretch for you to go out and he get drunk and you drive his car back home? No, happens often
I had all I needed to know.
With those details, I arranged for her to meet me in person as I have
too much to lose to go putting some shit in a traceable medium. She had her instructions…