Friday, March 30, 2012
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…I checked out a nun today…I don’t know if that’s ok or not…and…I don’t really care if it is or not…well, the movie Swordfish is on…and this means you have an entire country of men…and some women…watching this movie that was pretty much about absolutely nothing…however, Halle Berry is in it…and that might be enough to watch the 2 hour movie…however, she shows off her chibby chongas…however…another one…that was like a triple dose of however right there…this movie's on TV…so I guess this Swordfish TV movie acts as a pop-up like you get on the Internet…telling you to refill your penis pill prescription…and the pop-up gives everyone the clue to turn the TV back to March Madness…put it on mute and go try to download the 2 minute part where Halle...shows off her fun bags…and this unfortunately leads to seeing Billy Bob Thorton’s ass…because now you’re enticed to also download the Monster Balls’ scene where Halle asks Billy Bob to make her feel good…saw some old high school friends last night…and we were incredibly thirsty…unbelievably thirsty…I don’t even believe how thirsty we were…even though we were that thirsty…otherwise why would we have tried to quench this thirst into the early morn…but since I attached unbelievably to the thirsty…I guess it didn’t happen…well, yeah, anyways…this lead to the rule of the first one to pass out gets the privilege of being drawn on…and that’s just the way it goes…we’ll…or I’ll say…because I’m telling thus story…I’ll say the dude that passed out was named Tom at birth…and the Sharpy was broken out…another dude…we’ll…I mean…I’ll call him…dude…wrote on Tom’s feet some vulgar mo jo…and…that should be fun getting off…good luck with that…what did Mr. Bobbit do…to deserve that?...imagine it being sewn back on…the Master’s is coming up…which I’m pretty excited about…you see the advertisements for it with Phil Mickelson deservedly and finally winning one…and he probably got negative inches in the air…it’s like he jumped down, which makes no sense…that he could be that white…it’s almost as if the area he was covering had more gravity…um yeah…I’m watching March Madness and by the way Georgetown just passed the basketball, I’m pretty confidant that there are a few lesbians in the stands that are thinking hard about going wild at halftime…I don’t have any…but something made me pose the question of where my dogs at?...how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood…while typing I nailed the dismount on reciting the wood chuck chuck song…when in reality…which I don’t know about you…I’m living there…the better question is…who cares how much a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?...I was watching women’s basketball yesterday and it seems to me the UCONN Husky women like using penetration and back doors…just a little update on the search…I haven’t found Jesus yet…and yup…our President still isn’t looking for Bin Laden…because he’s still looking for Waldo…it’s just one of dem days…back in elementary school when girls used to chase me at recess…which they don’t do now…when I go to the local recesses…but what would they have done back in elementary school if they caught me?...that would have been coool…what if I chose, as a guy, to chase after them…would this have been allowed…because I would have caught them in 3.6734 seconds…let a second run off to tease them…and then stretch and then catch…equaling 3.6734 seconds…what would I have done if I caught them…I think I’m going to start chasing after females now…of my age of course…I’ll tell them I’m doing research for my blog…I’m a blogger…and for sho…they will be impressed…I asked a female if she had back trouble…that might give you a little idea of her features…why do they call it portal potties…did they have no idea what to call it so they asked a three year old…I’d like to give a shout-out to all those people who would like to give a shout-out…I was riding home on the train today, heading back to my Brooklyn apartment…and I noticed my feet were turned more outward than normal…my normal feet stance is a little inward…I’m slightly bow-legged…not quite a cheetah…but more like an animal that is less bow-legged than a cheetah...I guess this means my great great ancestors…I guess they were pretty great…and they must have hung out with the monkeys…those mo fos we evolved from…and noticed the monkeys feet stance…and emulated this more than per say your ancestors that didn’t hang out with the monkeys…and now they walk around with their feet pointed outward at a ridiculous angle…it should be illegal to have feet pointed out thus far…we need a regulation on feet stances in America…let foreigners walk around like that if they wanna…I’m not even sure if monkeys are bow-legged…but this is a blog…so if I say it’s true…it is…plus I just looked it up at the same time as writing that last sentence, concluding monkeys…they bow-legged…the transition from shaved…to 5 O’Clock shadow…to need a shave for work…to you’re getting lazy…to you’re growing it out for a new look but it’s not really working out…to wait maybe we’ve got something here…to no wait you’re just a bum that hasn’t shaven in a long while…to sophisticated…And there’s a cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
Friday, March 23, 2012
...Sunday Mo Jo...
...due to a bad dosage of the Sniffles...this Sunday Mo Jo has been printed a day late...sounds like a Cup of Excuse...
Saturday, March 10, 2012
...Sunday Mo Jo...
...Easter Sunday Revisited...I am revisiting Easter Sunday today, and now...after chowing down a "Pop's" chicken parm hero, a Brooklyn joint where I noticed while waiting for the Parm. that the chocolate milk Yoo-hoo places its' contents in a can...it is bad enough we get this kind of milk from a minority cow's nipple, and now it's placed in a can...there are just certain beverages that don't belong in cans and we all agree because I just said we do that milk, especially chocolate, does not belong canned...I just got official ruling that those that didn't attend church yesterday are going to Hell...you'll be receiving an email informing you about this...which, I know, is pointless because everybody reads this blog daily so all already are informed about this...let's not give the email mailmen...and mailwomen extra mail to deliver to the Internets...and I will not be seeing you people in Hell because I did attend church...my church...which of course is being in the presence of Leo's successor, Cosmo, our cat...that is my church...get your own......almost pissed in my pants on the train ride back to the BK yesterday…but then finally walked 3 cars up to find Jon waiting for me to pee all over the seat…I enjoy going over friend’s places for a game or such…and going to the bathroom and peeing all over the seat…returning to the living room to ask who pissed all over the seat…how rude of them…so I’m on the train relieving myself, placing one hand against the wall like those assholes you see in public lavatories…and using the other hand as my guide hand……Mick Jagger’s telling me he’s coming down again…and I think we all are after childhood…what a ride that was…this cup of caffeine doesn’t help…and neither does JK’s (my brother’s) Sex Pistols CD…too early for punks to take over the airwaves…at least we have “Summer Cleavage” to look forward to…I’m pretty excited about that…I’m having March Madness withdrawal…the Master’s didn’t exactly bate my full interest…and it appears the seven degrees wasn’t enough for Michael Jordan…because according to the latest Haines AD, Michael Jordan and Kevin Bacon are living in the same apartment…and that shall leave a quality taste for this cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…It’s already 1:25 and I still don’t feel alive…I’ve spent all day drinking coffee and listening to musicians tell me what life has to offer me…let’s take the R-train uptown and see if any of this is true…but first, I gotta finish this cup of Sunday Mo Jo…I have to say, this pot is delicious…which in a sense is a lie…because coffee has never struck oneself as delicious…it’s good…but “delicious” to me usually describes food, or it was the name of the stripper from last night…weathermen are claiming a Nor'easter is on its way…so, at least we can look forward to not experiencing a Nor'easter…had the weathermen not said one was coming, most people believed there was still a chance in April, but now we know there most likely will not because they said there will be…those that run Las Vegas should have weathermen as their target audience…Relief break…you ever exit the Jon and have a feeling of satisfaction like you’ve just accomplished something…work, well done…that was rhetorical because I know you have…how many youths do you think have purchased Rims, but don’t have their license, nevermind a car, yet?...as far as a condiment for your Sunday Mo Jo solution, Cat Power truly is “The Greatest”…tell me a better CD to listen to when hungover, sipping coffee, trying to return back, it’s raining out and your roommate is playing the trumpet, nose style, while sleeping in the other room – so you’ve got to drown his talent out with something more soothing than that crap…snoring like that can’t be healthy…he should get that check out…and I’m going to check out this growing culture of posing as a bum and then finding oneself in “Steve’s Bagels” with a so fresh and so clean haircut…recalling when this here blog originated…I know…let the nostalgia settle in…I first began with writing about my journey to an interview…I think it had something to do with teaching…whatever man…R-train uptown to somewhere in Manhattan, and what appeared to be a bum came on the train and played “Nowhere Man”…I think The Beatles cover this guy’s song…dude looked approx. my age, but didn’t sport deodorant, and had hair down to his shoulders, which I’ve realized I’ll never be able to accomplish…I have a policy that I give bums change if they play a good song…I gave this dude change for playing “Nowhere Man” and apparently added to his shit bagel and hairs cut funds…this makes me feel good, but also develops a slight skepticism in what used to be a full trust in bums…they’re good peoples…however, I’ve noticed lately, that bums are getting lazy…another train experience…a bum walked on the train and just stuck her hand out…no song, no limp for sympathy…no Bible reading…just a-hey, exclaiming, “Give it to me”…um, no…I don’t walk up to them, demanding a song or assuming a catechism lesson…these are privileges…that we all try to avoid…privileges…and so is this cup of Sunday Mo Jo…Mo Fo…and we’ve also learned recently that having a radio show is a privilege too…the fiasco about the Don Imus comments, calling the Rutgers Women’s Bball team “Nappy Headed Hoes” will soon dwindle away like the outrage over the much worse Katrina tragedy…and, it’s over…the true change this has made is that my average yearly vomit occurrence has risen…because we’ve had to listen to old white folk debate the impact of rap lyrics intertwind with this Imus controversy…MSNBC and CBS made bold decisions to protect their PR cheeks…but just when you think America has lost perspective, sitcom “7th Heaven” comes on and that preachin’ father saves the day…and provides me with the realization that Jessica Biel is not the reason I started watching the show, and just purchased the newest “7th Heaven” DVD…it includes extra footage, explaining how preacher man and wife had enough time to create all those babies…I think Imus and the Rutgers’ bball team watched “7th Heaven” when they met to chat over their differences…and there is no show that can convey our similarities like “7th Heaven”…and I type corrected…sorry Cat Power…-“7th Heaven” is the best condiment for this Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…Interesting…I was really thirsty last night…so I quenched it…only to awake this morning to be even thirstier…people have always said that Garrett fellow is one thirsty fellow…I’ll take that as a complement as that is the only way oneself can take that…before I hit this here Mo Jo, I shall quench thy thirst with some H20 – by Nike…the 12 year old workers make quality batches of water…and like we went over already, I’m extremely thirsty…my thirst has risen to extreme measures…so these kids might have to work overtime…gonna need lots of water here people…I quench people’s mental thirst with this here blog…you're welcome…I quench my own mind’s thirst too…my welcome…as I try to stay awake watching the NBA playoffs, and waiting for tonight’s Yankees / Red Sox game, I write this with enjoyment of the cushion spring digging into my shoulder blade, adding to the pile of boogies behind the big couch, and now I have an itch on the bottom of my sockless left foot…if it had a sock on it…or for short…a footglove…which is actually longer, but obviously more street = cooler?...if it had sock on, I could have added another line to the “Ironic” song…Alanis Morissette sings her soul –
“Isn’t it ironic?
I have an itch on the bottom of me foot
But I have a sock on
So I can still relieve the itch
But I will most likely have to go back for 2nd scratchage
This due to the separation that the footglove is causing
Between the itch and my pointerfinger
Equaling an irony so thick
That you can taste it along with that peppered on cliché”…
…the soul so effortlessly floods out to provide easy poetic comprehension that is also so effortless…your welcome Alanis…add that to the remix…I assume my royalties are already in the mail…no…already in the bank…in fact…I will bet my due royalties from the remix that my due royalties are already in the bank and therefore are no longer due…give me a second to check on the Internet(s)……Alanis?...it’s not in the bank…that’s unfortunate for you…because that means you now owe me double because I just lost that bet…I assume the doubled check is already in the mail…no…look…we could do this all day…just send the check sweat cheeks…and you thought you knew irony…it’d be pretty ironic, don’t ya think, if your cheeks were actually sweet…I’m willing to find out…let us meet...we could go over some more songs I’ve written and you obviously want to use them to get more props on the lyricist-cred noogle…it’d be pretty ironic if it rained on the day we were going to meet…no, I don’t think so either…don’t ya think…I miss my cat…stroking Cosmo’s extremely fluffy multi-colored coat is the only way I can truly quench this here thirst…here Cosmo is not, so I will settle for this here caffeine…and there’ a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
“Isn’t it ironic?
I have an itch on the bottom of me foot
But I have a sock on
So I can still relieve the itch
But I will most likely have to go back for 2nd scratchage
This due to the separation that the footglove is causing
Between the itch and my pointerfinger
Equaling an irony so thick
That you can taste it along with that peppered on cliché”…
…the soul so effortlessly floods out to provide easy poetic comprehension that is also so effortless…your welcome Alanis…add that to the remix…I assume my royalties are already in the mail…no…already in the bank…in fact…I will bet my due royalties from the remix that my due royalties are already in the bank and therefore are no longer due…give me a second to check on the Internet(s)……Alanis?...it’s not in the bank…that’s unfortunate for you…because that means you now owe me double because I just lost that bet…I assume the doubled check is already in the mail…no…look…we could do this all day…just send the check sweat cheeks…and you thought you knew irony…it’d be pretty ironic, don’t ya think, if your cheeks were actually sweet…I’m willing to find out…let us meet...we could go over some more songs I’ve written and you obviously want to use them to get more props on the lyricist-cred noogle…it’d be pretty ironic if it rained on the day we were going to meet…no, I don’t think so either…don’t ya think…I miss my cat…stroking Cosmo’s extremely fluffy multi-colored coat is the only way I can truly quench this here thirst…here Cosmo is not, so I will settle for this here caffeine…and there’ a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…You ever pick your nose while reading a book? – grimy sophistication…nah, me neither…you ever read a book and then have trouble spelling the word sophistication?...maybe it’s because I shaved my beard off, but I have…and then after my brother asked me, “Did you know Ireland has become one of the richest countries in Europe over the last few years?”…I responded, “No, I didn’t know Europe still existed”…just in case I offended any Europeans, I apologize and will stop writing this here blog for 2 months…and I should probably go to rehab too…I’ll finish this Mo Jo and then I’ll catch y’all after 12 steps…which in my sarcastic world is approx from this couch to my bed…no alcoholic here…because I can walk from the couch to bed without falling on my face…other than that, it might have to do with that I don’t drink much…just give me some chicken wings…a little play on words with Biggie’s song “Gimmie the Loot” – “Gimmie the Chicken Bawk”…I am an addict for chicken hooter with spicy or BBQ sauce…this is exactly the direction I planned on taking this convo…You?...No?...Well, adapt…this is just another white man’s version of Jazz music…improvise…maybe I should improvise and come up with another way to wake the buck up on a Sunday…I need to be well rested for the back-hair removal surgery tomorrow…what was supposed to proceed that was a date with an Asian delight I met, but she canceled for some reason after I told her I’d meet her at 9 instead of 8 due to the surgery…if a girl told me she was going to have her back hair surgically removed, I would appreciate that…watching the Suns-Lakers NBA playoff game, and I’ve concluded that Larry King should show up and have a “shoulder-off” with Phil Jackson…that would be more entertaining than the game…wondering about the abrupt transition from back-hair removal surgery to a King-Jackson “shoulder-off”?...well, it’s a metaphor for life…all of what I write, all of what I do is a metaphor for life…I know…nothing I write makes sense…and that’s why it makes complete sense that I’m a walking metaphor of life….because life makes no sense…and that’s what all these Mo Jos are…little metaphors…the mug is “half” something…it is up to you to determine whether it’s half empty or full…I know…it makes no sense, yet it’s so inspiring…and there’s “a” cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…Some say…well many say…that I’m a genius…my brother told me this the other day...I’m flattered…and just got a ruling that, yes, I can say flattered…I’m flattered but I don’t think so…I think that if I’m a genius then everyone’s a genius…and if you take a look to your right…well, or left…you will notice a person that obviously doesn’t qualify as a genius; thus, proving my hypothesis that everyone is not a genius, and therefore I am not one…people consider others genius…example being Bob Dylan…people have dissected his lyrics so much to the point they think he has the answers to whatever they’re going through…almost to the point that I think if Dylan were to say that he gets most of his ideas on the toilet then writers across America would be writing books while taking craps…and saying to themselves, “Dylan was correct…the toilet really does get that imagination flowing”…and I bring up genius because when drinking this here cup of Mo Jo, I can’t escape the mentality that I’m somehow more sophisticated when drinking coffee…Seinfeld broached this subject…how people drinking coffee always act like they’re doing something important…the difference between them and me though is that I’m always doing something important…and they I will admit sometimes do important things, but most of the time they’re just feeding their faces with a caffeine jolt…when I’m drinking coffee I’m either preparing to pass out worksheets in The School of Tomorrow’s Leaders or writing this here blog…and we all agree that both play a vital role in…everything…from the war on terror to getting lil’ Mookie the same educational opportunities as Timothy…from the North to South to the southern states we wish stayed in succession (Florida) and the ones we are glad that came back to the Union (New Orleans)…from the mother’s womb to the birth of a mo fo that writes a blog that revolutionizes the blogOsphere…from the from to the the…from the Bay Ridge apartment to the Café Steinhof in Park Slope where my bro and I tonight will be quenching our thirst while watching Spinal Tap, the chosen film for this café’s Sunday film…should be interesting…I’m pretty excited…and here the coffee will be away, but people in beards will be sipping brew and adlibbing to Spinal Tap, trying to reach that sophistication that they had thought they achieved earlier when they were doing their one important daily Sunday ritual…reading this Sunday’s Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
...this Sunday Mo Jo was written on Sunday; however, my moms gave me a list of things I needed to do before posting...she doesn't read this often so I'll admit I didn't do the list...yet...
…Mother’s Day…free beer…beer shits…false alarm…but the trumpet was a playin’…Miles Davis would have been proud…as we are of our mother’s…great transition I do agree…this Mo Jo is dedicated to the mothers…put away your Halmarks…despite what your card says, my momma is the best in the world-n-of all time…check Wikipedia…it’s a fact…but I write this Mo Jo not only to thank my mom, but to thank the mom of our hostess of the restaurant we dinned at for Mother’s day dinner…I thank the mother for creatin’ such a scrumptious hostess…well worth the 35 buck meals we all had…35 bucks for an entrée…yeah, that is fair…and balanced…the hostess was all the dessert I needed…I even went back for seconds after the rest of the FAM went back to Connecticut…the hostess was done with work and was about to leave…but then she saw me so stayed for a drink…at the other end of the bar…we played some pick-a-boo…or maybe she was just wondering why I was staring at her…however, at this point I’ve convinced myself she is the one doing the staring…I don’t mind though…there are mirrors in this world…I’ve seen this face…welp…this is what females do to ya…stop asking me about a career…my only goal right now is to achieve a girlfriend…so until I achieve this you can forget about the career…because like they say…there is always a woman behind a great man…tell that to Massachusetts…and I do agree with y'all that I am pretty damn fooking awesome...but I'm not great...like that Tiger...yet...not until a woman is behind me...in conclusion, it would only be selfish if this hostess didn’t accept my offer for a drink at the bar she works at and could get for free…by the next Mo Jo we will find out if she is selfish…wouldn’t mind sharing a cup of Sunday Mo Jo with her…now that certainly isn’t selfish…this mo jo sucks…I blame the mother’s for THEIR day…but I think I’ll keep mine…Mom…thanks for all the groceries…but you forgot the sugar…and there’s a cup of sugarless Sunday Mo Jo…
…Mother’s Day…free beer…beer shits…false alarm…but the trumpet was a playin’…Miles Davis would have been proud…as we are of our mother’s…great transition I do agree…this Mo Jo is dedicated to the mothers…put away your Halmarks…despite what your card says, my momma is the best in the world-n-of all time…check Wikipedia…it’s a fact…but I write this Mo Jo not only to thank my mom, but to thank the mom of our hostess of the restaurant we dinned at for Mother’s day dinner…I thank the mother for creatin’ such a scrumptious hostess…well worth the 35 buck meals we all had…35 bucks for an entrée…yeah, that is fair…and balanced…the hostess was all the dessert I needed…I even went back for seconds after the rest of the FAM went back to Connecticut…the hostess was done with work and was about to leave…but then she saw me so stayed for a drink…at the other end of the bar…we played some pick-a-boo…or maybe she was just wondering why I was staring at her…however, at this point I’ve convinced myself she is the one doing the staring…I don’t mind though…there are mirrors in this world…I’ve seen this face…welp…this is what females do to ya…stop asking me about a career…my only goal right now is to achieve a girlfriend…so until I achieve this you can forget about the career…because like they say…there is always a woman behind a great man…tell that to Massachusetts…and I do agree with y'all that I am pretty damn fooking awesome...but I'm not great...like that Tiger...yet...not until a woman is behind me...in conclusion, it would only be selfish if this hostess didn’t accept my offer for a drink at the bar she works at and could get for free…by the next Mo Jo we will find out if she is selfish…wouldn’t mind sharing a cup of Sunday Mo Jo with her…now that certainly isn’t selfish…this mo jo sucks…I blame the mother’s for THEIR day…but I think I’ll keep mine…Mom…thanks for all the groceries…but you forgot the sugar…and there’s a cup of sugarless Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…get the broom out for cleanin’ apartment after I drink this here Mo Jo…and Met fans are doing the same as they prepare for Sunday’s sweep of the Yanks…not as thirsty as other Sundays, but I am thirsty for seeing the Yanks at least play respectable baseball…talkin’ ‘bout respect, you can’t handle respect…I think that’s how it goes…respect isn’t something Aretha Franklin would get from Roger Clemens if she were a Yankee…defending Roger Clemens for not going on road trips with the team when he’s not pitching is like defending Allen Iverson for not showing up for practice…no, Tiger Woods doesn’t show up for every tournament…but he doesn’t have teammates…George Bush only shows up when he pitches too…but when he doesn’t show up, things get done, progress is made…when he shows up for speeches and such, he increases his status as the worst president ever…however, Roger Clemens is one of the best pitchers ever…so if he’s claiming it’s all about his Yankee troops, then he’d be there every game…but that’s not the case…he ain’t got no respect for the pinstripes…not Torre, not Rivera…or Jeter, and not the history…unfortunately, as a Yanks fan, I want to see Jeter and company…wait…I mean, I want to see the Yankees win another World Series…so when Roger is on the mound, I will be rooting…not a great Mo Jo here…but it’ll do the job as far as washing down my supper…a large chocolate milkshake and large fry from McDonalds…I was sitting there…no…there…and the craving for ice cream and salty potatoes emerged…so I satisfied that craving, came back from Donald’s shack, and watched the Yankees avoid the broom…for the future, I promise I will avoid that trend called sleeping…for the sake of better Mo Jos…but for now I’m gonna pound what has turned into a salty shack, and finish this Sunday’s Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…Oh yeah, you’ve noticed…I went cold turkey on that Mo Jo lately…I realized I lasted 21 of my 24 year hall of fame career without using the caffeine…well, at least from the bean…so why after all that time does a mo fo have to have coffee…it got to the point where I couldn’t function during the day without it…it had a hold of me…by the balls…and we all know down south controls the brain…it’s like a drug…um yeah, maybe it is…so like most, I’ve relapsed and I’m back for some more mo jo…please wait to applaud after I write down the key to life somewhere in thus here piece…so to celebrate my relapse of mo jo, I was gonna throw out some jokes that I came across while subbing tomorrow’s leaders on Friday…but I was shaving my brother’s back last night and that supplied him with much laughter…so let’s go one by one…I’ll shave your backs, and supply chuckles that-a-way…who’s first???...Charley???...oh, and I was joking about shaving my brother’s back…it was my girlfriend’s…and the word around Brooklyn is that the G-Man’s back on that jo…yet a little hairy this time around, but back nonetheless…in fact, all-the-more and just because your mom’s a whore doesn’t mean she should give all the whores bad names…they’re trying to get through college…the space between my…and my…gets a little sweaty at times…you fill in the blanks…which brings us all back to middle school…some of you still waiting to graduate that shit…back to Middle School for vocab tests, “Please fill in the blanks with the appropriate vocab word”…I’d like to thank the classmate that sat to the right of me…the one on the left put her binder around her test…this didn’t piss me off because I couldn’t see the answers…but more so pissed off my jimmy because I couldn’t see her cleavage…a look to the right, Garrett’s vocab is so expansive, he should be a writer…a look to the left, Garrett’s gotta do that tuck between the belt and waist when it’s time to hand his test in…and I will not stoop to the level of the corny mo fo that here would say I scored 100 on the test, but got caught cheating because Stewart to the right some how eneded up in the blank at the top of my paper…no, I won’t go there because that’s a true story and it still hurts…not the fact I got caught cheating, but my belt was really tight that day because I was going through a tight jean phase and my jimmy hasn’t forgiven me since…oh yea, he’s back on the mo jo and releasing unconscious private part jokes is what it’s good fo…and there’s a cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
This Sunday's Mo Jo has led me to the dissection of the word “Dude”...read on...it's quite fascinating...
According to Webster, the little black kid’s book of words, the word “dude” means:
1. a man extremely fastidious in dress and manner
2. a city dweller unfamiliar with life on the range
3. fellow; guy; sometimes used informally as address (hey, dude, what’s up?).
These definitions are all well and good…but…when hearing the word “dude” we all have pictures of certain people that pop into our head…let’s dissect what a dude really is…Webster, the little black kid…not a dude…
First off, being a dude is not necessarily a diss or a compliment…I don’t make up the rules…I guess it depends on the circumstance…see Kramer is a dude…which is a compliment…well…until he joined the clan and now apologetic white guys don’t want to be dudes anymore…Comedian Lisa Lampanelli, a dude…now for most females being referred to as a dude would destroyed their self-esteem and they’d resort back to their stripping days, but they no longer can use the excuse they’re paying for college and are a single mother…however, Lisa would laugh and take this as a compliment because she’s one of the funniest dudes around…
…who else is a dude?...
Sean Penn, a dude…however, Sean the actual Human (with a capital silent “H”) is not a dude…Sean Penn played a dude in the movie Fast Times at Ridgmont High…this character he played is not a dude just because he’d say “dude”…but like Webster’s definition, it has to do with the way he dressed and wore his hair; his whole body language…
Steve da Bod, a dude…not known to all blog readers…a college friend of my pops…this dude doesn’t drink, but takes off his shirt and dances at friend’s 40th birthday parties…you’re a dude if this is the case…compliment or diss?...well, he’ll take it as a compliment…he’s a dude…picture not available...this site keeps its' shirt on...hopefully our next dude candidate will keep its' shoes on...
Mr. Rogers, a dude…we’ve talked about him before…quite a different kind of dude than da Bod and Sean Penn’s character…a dude always-the-less in Rogers' case…imagine black people watching this guy…they’d say, “this white dude crazy”…
Randy Johnson, a dude…a dude when with the mustache though…on the Yankees he was no dude…don’t mistaken the rocking of thee stash as an automatic dude qualification…Jeopardy Host Alex Trebek has stash but he ain’t no dude…
Johnny Damon, a dude…always been and always will be a dude…he’s just got that dude in him…I’m an occasional underground reporter for the Yankees and I heard him ponder, “Was Jesus a dude? I think yes”...
Stiffler, a dude…the character from American Pie…we all agree he got screwed out of an Oscar on that one…
Rosie O’Donnell, a dude…well, to say she’s a dude overall is just too easy…more specifically she was a dude in the movie A League of Their Own…she certainly is and I’m guessing she agrees that a dude is living on top of Donald Trumps head…
Kenny Mayne, a dude...ESPN personality has had many dude moments over his reporting years...a memorable quote he used to use when reporting on homeruns, "taste like chicken"...I like any dude that mixes sports and chicken...he kind of resembles a more original Stifler...Kenny Manye...more like Kenny the Man...keep up the good work dude...
Thomas Haden Church, a dude…a dude’s dude…know what I’m saying dude…I mean this guy played the dude character in the sitcom Wings…and the character he played in the classic comedy Sideways actually ignited my whole debate of whom is a dude…some mo fos are debatable dudes…nobody can waver, not even Webster, on whether Thomas Haden Church is a dude…
...not many can out dude this mo fo...Thomas Hayden Church is also a mo fo, but that dissection will be saved for another dosage of the jo...more dudes will soon be added...feel free to give ideas on possible dude candidates...that I will most likely ignore...and there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
According to Webster, the little black kid’s book of words, the word “dude” means:
1. a man extremely fastidious in dress and manner
2. a city dweller unfamiliar with life on the range
3. fellow; guy; sometimes used informally as address (hey, dude, what’s up?).
These definitions are all well and good…but…when hearing the word “dude” we all have pictures of certain people that pop into our head…let’s dissect what a dude really is…Webster, the little black kid…not a dude…
First off, being a dude is not necessarily a diss or a compliment…I don’t make up the rules…I guess it depends on the circumstance…see Kramer is a dude…which is a compliment…well…until he joined the clan and now apologetic white guys don’t want to be dudes anymore…Comedian Lisa Lampanelli, a dude…now for most females being referred to as a dude would destroyed their self-esteem and they’d resort back to their stripping days, but they no longer can use the excuse they’re paying for college and are a single mother…however, Lisa would laugh and take this as a compliment because she’s one of the funniest dudes around…
…who else is a dude?...
Sean Penn, a dude…however, Sean the actual Human (with a capital silent “H”) is not a dude…Sean Penn played a dude in the movie Fast Times at Ridgmont High…this character he played is not a dude just because he’d say “dude”…but like Webster’s definition, it has to do with the way he dressed and wore his hair; his whole body language…
Steve da Bod, a dude…not known to all blog readers…a college friend of my pops…this dude doesn’t drink, but takes off his shirt and dances at friend’s 40th birthday parties…you’re a dude if this is the case…compliment or diss?...well, he’ll take it as a compliment…he’s a dude…picture not available...this site keeps its' shirt on...hopefully our next dude candidate will keep its' shoes on...
Mr. Rogers, a dude…we’ve talked about him before…quite a different kind of dude than da Bod and Sean Penn’s character…a dude always-the-less in Rogers' case…imagine black people watching this guy…they’d say, “this white dude crazy”…
Randy Johnson, a dude…a dude when with the mustache though…on the Yankees he was no dude…don’t mistaken the rocking of thee stash as an automatic dude qualification…Jeopardy Host Alex Trebek has stash but he ain’t no dude…
Johnny Damon, a dude…always been and always will be a dude…he’s just got that dude in him…I’m an occasional underground reporter for the Yankees and I heard him ponder, “Was Jesus a dude? I think yes”...
Stiffler, a dude…the character from American Pie…we all agree he got screwed out of an Oscar on that one…
Rosie O’Donnell, a dude…well, to say she’s a dude overall is just too easy…more specifically she was a dude in the movie A League of Their Own…she certainly is and I’m guessing she agrees that a dude is living on top of Donald Trumps head…
Kenny Mayne, a dude...ESPN personality has had many dude moments over his reporting years...a memorable quote he used to use when reporting on homeruns, "taste like chicken"...I like any dude that mixes sports and chicken...he kind of resembles a more original Stifler...Kenny Manye...more like Kenny the Man...keep up the good work dude...
Thomas Haden Church, a dude…a dude’s dude…know what I’m saying dude…I mean this guy played the dude character in the sitcom Wings…and the character he played in the classic comedy Sideways actually ignited my whole debate of whom is a dude…some mo fos are debatable dudes…nobody can waver, not even Webster, on whether Thomas Haden Church is a dude…
...not many can out dude this mo fo...Thomas Hayden Church is also a mo fo, but that dissection will be saved for another dosage of the jo...more dudes will soon be added...feel free to give ideas on possible dude candidates...that I will most likely ignore...and there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
...Sunday Mo Jo...
...Forget what Bob saw...this is what I saw...
I saw a health club in the BK on top of a McDonalds...
I saw Sean Hannity interview MC Hammer and say he still listens to the mo fos' music...
I saw old friends that apparently went to Lifting College......I don't know the exact name for the place of achieving higher self esteem...
I saw a Yank's pitcher that ain't no belly itcher, but was better last season when he didn't wear glasses and couldn't see...
I saw white pee go down the drain and then I yelled out my name for a reason not apparent...
I saw a saw on a bar wall and thought it was time to stop yelling at the bartender for not knowing whom Larry David is...
I saw the word "was" after "David" inside my mind, but realized "is" was the appropiate mo fo for this time...
...he still exists...
I saw in the same bar a canon that made the canon of canons...
...told it gradulations...
I saw a possible mispelled word, but Webster, the little black kid, is a-sleepin'...
...so stop ya complainin'
...this ain't no spelling bee...
I saw only one white man that was truly free and there happen to be a mirror in front of me...
I saw a lovely misses, but when awoke realized she ain't one...
...or has an odd formula for when IT pisses...
...mistaken for tail...
I saw a woman with only one hooter, a man with three and asked him to subtract and not be so full of greed...
...he peed on my new Timberlands...
I saw a musician whose face looked like wrinkled rubber so I wonder why they don't show that for drug education...
...how's that war going
...against your own family members or friends?...ridiculous...
I saw a bucket of KFC and suddenly the realization came upon me how easily a black person could get offended for assumption of the want to eat it...
I saw a pile of books, decided to give my cheeks a few looks...
...sat on 'em and that's why me wiseass...
I saw a woman on the 2-train and received an instant chubby...
I saw a woman on the R-train and received a sudden replay of last nights dinner...
...but a mo fo gotta go that-a-way
...I guess I gotta get use to spittin' up in my own...
I saw that same woman, she now curls her stash like Mr. Fingers.......somebody get her a BIC...and someone else get Phil Mic a better fit on that "Bro"...
I saw you staring right here and I gotta say so that that was quite the dose of the jo...
...and there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
I saw a health club in the BK on top of a McDonalds...
I saw Sean Hannity interview MC Hammer and say he still listens to the mo fos' music...
I saw old friends that apparently went to Lifting College......I don't know the exact name for the place of achieving higher self esteem...
I saw a Yank's pitcher that ain't no belly itcher, but was better last season when he didn't wear glasses and couldn't see...
I saw white pee go down the drain and then I yelled out my name for a reason not apparent...
I saw a saw on a bar wall and thought it was time to stop yelling at the bartender for not knowing whom Larry David is...
I saw the word "was" after "David" inside my mind, but realized "is" was the appropiate mo fo for this time...
...he still exists...
I saw in the same bar a canon that made the canon of canons...
...told it gradulations...
I saw a possible mispelled word, but Webster, the little black kid, is a-sleepin'...
...so stop ya complainin'
...this ain't no spelling bee...
I saw only one white man that was truly free and there happen to be a mirror in front of me...
I saw a lovely misses, but when awoke realized she ain't one...
...or has an odd formula for when IT pisses...
...mistaken for tail...
I saw a woman with only one hooter, a man with three and asked him to subtract and not be so full of greed...
...he peed on my new Timberlands...
I saw a musician whose face looked like wrinkled rubber so I wonder why they don't show that for drug education...
...how's that war going
...against your own family members or friends?...ridiculous...
I saw a bucket of KFC and suddenly the realization came upon me how easily a black person could get offended for assumption of the want to eat it...
I saw a pile of books, decided to give my cheeks a few looks...
...sat on 'em and that's why me wiseass...
I saw a woman on the 2-train and received an instant chubby...
I saw a woman on the R-train and received a sudden replay of last nights dinner...
...but a mo fo gotta go that-a-way
...I guess I gotta get use to spittin' up in my own...
I saw that same woman, she now curls her stash like Mr. Fingers.......somebody get her a BIC...and someone else get Phil Mic a better fit on that "Bro"...
I saw you staring right here and I gotta say so that that was quite the dose of the jo...
...and there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…some of you ponder…and I encourage all except our present president to ponder…so ponder on, why don’t you?...well, maybe you have like 50 voices going on inside your head like Georgie Boy does, and can’t quite make sense of…well…anything…but some of you are pondering on as if you were a Ponderosa employee of thy month…which has to be an instant boner to the self-esteem machine…a boner to the self-esteem machine similar to that boner to the imagination station…keep on, keep on ponderin’…I’ll get to thy point…
…some of you are pondering where I get this stuff…-“stuff”, a new word to my advanced vocabulary… where do these stuffs come from…or how do I come up with thee, your pondering minds may ask…well, me trying to explain it is difficult…I mean it’s similar the difficulty Richard Simons must experience when explaining how he came up with his work out plan…for his sake…genius…genius must be the only explanation within rationale…what if Richard Simons and Brian Boytano, the Queen of the Escapades, were in the same room?...don’t ponder that too long…because we all like the proper use of the replay, but don’t need a reply of last night’s dinner…moms’ spaghetti is so-so delicious, but not made for seconds until she gets up off her lazy ass and cooks again…
…no, but seriously…I guess I come up with this stuff because…we’ve all got to come up with something…something to do with our lives…this is what I’ve chosen to do presently...who knows if it’ll result in a career…?...the…the big hermaphrodite does upstairs…that’s who…she-he will reveal the answer someday…maybe soon, but probably later…so I’ve chosen to write presently…what have other’s chosen to do?...teachers, lawyers, accountants, doctors, such as gynecologists…gynecologists for the Florida State girl’s volleyball squad…either for them or an old women’s home…
…I enjoy living in a home…it’s home…it’s where most are most comfortable…so I truly enjoy living home…but I never want to be put in a home…it leads to playing Bingo and talking about the weather...but we’ll dissect that later…that and my accidental use of “hand-quotes”…I apologize and admit I should be locked up for doing so…but for now…back to gynecology…let’s keep this classy…
…gynecology…any gynecologists in the place…to be…to be or not to be…thee, not be thy question…for it to be a question reveals a lack of assumption that an answer is assumed to be known…while it be, to be, because if it weren’t, to be, then we wouldn’t exist and therefore couldn’t ask ridiculous questions like, to be or not to be…now this reveals that you shall forget that bullshit your white history teacher slash slave master sold you that there are no stupid questions…for example, you ask before asking what you want to ask…you say, “Can I ask you something?”…you just did…stupid question…back to back on track…
…any gynecologists here?...no of course not…because they are all at home doing research on child porn like Peter Townshend…what kind of pervert do you have to be in order to become a gynecologist…yeah, I know, it’s for the medicine of it…I…was doing “real” research…and it led me to the statistic that 87% of gynecologists resort to priesthood for their 2nd and final career…I guess once you’ve seen all the angles of the vagina, some wine, cookies, Jesus and little boys are the only things left on the to-do list…who actually becomes a gynecologist in life…or a priest for that matter…well, the dissection of the next question I’ll pose may give an answer for us here…
…referring back to the beginning of this classy conversation…talking about classy…2 of my old friends and I were getting, you know, fucked up, at a bar…we hadn’t seen each other in awhile so conversation was slim at first because we only had like 2 drinks in us…other than the generic…how ya doing?...what’s new?...me…oh, well, there is so much new that I don’t know where to begin…so I’ll give ya the generic nothing much…you know…just hangin’ out…so we’re just sittin’ there staring forward at the bottles and taps and bartender’s tits…bartender was a dude, but had the Phil Mickelson syndrome going on and this bar’s a sausage fest…so his chibbychongas will satisfy the eyes for now…oh, and it was an actual sausage fest…the food everywhere…it smelled disgusting in there so I had to use the site of anything to get my nose’s mind off the sausage…even man tits could be an attempt to achieve thy trick…keep feeding me drinks Charley…so it was complete silence for like 3 minutes so I decided to say, “Yeah, yeah, I’m a classy guy, yeah”…now they didn’t confirm…but they didn’t deny either…they actually didn’t react at all like they don’t to most of what I say…but in my book, that is confirming…I classy…my book’s on sale after…you read this…well, it’s on sale now, but don’t leave to buy it now like the last time…the bookstore is where you fuckers must have gone…ok…back to back on track…
…our conversation…how do people become or decide to become gynecologists or priests?...well, remember we talked about voices inside our heads…most people have 1 to 2 to 3…our president Bush has like 50 going at once…that’s why during press conferences he smiles after reporting more deaths in Iraq and tells us every soldier counts after emphasizing APProximately 3,000 have deceased…and now he is right…9-11 and Iraq are linked…
…voices inside our head…we all have them…do you people realize?...we live in a world where people and the voices inside their heads conversate and some where along the line, or maybe between lines, they conclude, that yes, I will become…
…become a clown…what exactly did your mother do so wrong to make you hate her so much for you to become a clown?...look…in the off season, I do porn flicks…but my mom understands…every actor has to start somewhere…and my mom supports that…but no mom supports their child that decides to become a clown…unless the mother’s family was in the circus and she became a clown too…I actually thought about becoming a clown…but then remembered I do have a mother and rejected that idea…but while I was pondering clownhood, I wondered…what’s the market like these days for clowns?...I mean there’s a lot of birthdays coming up next month…and the month after that…I’m not sure after the next…but I’ll get back to you on that…at your kid’s birthday party…whoa…you mean you’re not hiring me to entertain the munchkins?...bullshit…no?…horse manure…maybe I will become a clown…or a priest…
…so there you go…if there are clowns in this world then concluding to become a gynecologist doesn’t seem that ridiculous…except at family events…how’s work going?, the answer to that is not what a gynecologist’s relative wants to hear when singing Jingle Bells with the little shits…or celebrating Kwanza with Joel Osteen, the white preacher that got lost on his way to the church, but now sells out stadiums broadcasted on Black Entertainment…
…yeah BET…I think this is a good transition point for me to announce that I’m pondering on about bringing back the underground railroad…
…hey Whitey…you ever think about creating a station called WET…you know…White Entertainment…no…why?...because that’d be racist?...well, BET certainly isn’t…I’m glad we covered that…and there’s a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
…some of you are pondering where I get this stuff…-“stuff”, a new word to my advanced vocabulary… where do these stuffs come from…or how do I come up with thee, your pondering minds may ask…well, me trying to explain it is difficult…I mean it’s similar the difficulty Richard Simons must experience when explaining how he came up with his work out plan…for his sake…genius…genius must be the only explanation within rationale…what if Richard Simons and Brian Boytano, the Queen of the Escapades, were in the same room?...don’t ponder that too long…because we all like the proper use of the replay, but don’t need a reply of last night’s dinner…moms’ spaghetti is so-so delicious, but not made for seconds until she gets up off her lazy ass and cooks again…
…no, but seriously…I guess I come up with this stuff because…we’ve all got to come up with something…something to do with our lives…this is what I’ve chosen to do presently...who knows if it’ll result in a career…?...the…the big hermaphrodite does upstairs…that’s who…she-he will reveal the answer someday…maybe soon, but probably later…so I’ve chosen to write presently…what have other’s chosen to do?...teachers, lawyers, accountants, doctors, such as gynecologists…gynecologists for the Florida State girl’s volleyball squad…either for them or an old women’s home…
…I enjoy living in a home…it’s home…it’s where most are most comfortable…so I truly enjoy living home…but I never want to be put in a home…it leads to playing Bingo and talking about the weather...but we’ll dissect that later…that and my accidental use of “hand-quotes”…I apologize and admit I should be locked up for doing so…but for now…back to gynecology…let’s keep this classy…
…gynecology…any gynecologists in the place…to be…to be or not to be…thee, not be thy question…for it to be a question reveals a lack of assumption that an answer is assumed to be known…while it be, to be, because if it weren’t, to be, then we wouldn’t exist and therefore couldn’t ask ridiculous questions like, to be or not to be…now this reveals that you shall forget that bullshit your white history teacher slash slave master sold you that there are no stupid questions…for example, you ask before asking what you want to ask…you say, “Can I ask you something?”…you just did…stupid question…back to back on track…
…any gynecologists here?...no of course not…because they are all at home doing research on child porn like Peter Townshend…what kind of pervert do you have to be in order to become a gynecologist…yeah, I know, it’s for the medicine of it…I…was doing “real” research…and it led me to the statistic that 87% of gynecologists resort to priesthood for their 2nd and final career…I guess once you’ve seen all the angles of the vagina, some wine, cookies, Jesus and little boys are the only things left on the to-do list…who actually becomes a gynecologist in life…or a priest for that matter…well, the dissection of the next question I’ll pose may give an answer for us here…
…referring back to the beginning of this classy conversation…talking about classy…2 of my old friends and I were getting, you know, fucked up, at a bar…we hadn’t seen each other in awhile so conversation was slim at first because we only had like 2 drinks in us…other than the generic…how ya doing?...what’s new?...me…oh, well, there is so much new that I don’t know where to begin…so I’ll give ya the generic nothing much…you know…just hangin’ out…so we’re just sittin’ there staring forward at the bottles and taps and bartender’s tits…bartender was a dude, but had the Phil Mickelson syndrome going on and this bar’s a sausage fest…so his chibbychongas will satisfy the eyes for now…oh, and it was an actual sausage fest…the food everywhere…it smelled disgusting in there so I had to use the site of anything to get my nose’s mind off the sausage…even man tits could be an attempt to achieve thy trick…keep feeding me drinks Charley…so it was complete silence for like 3 minutes so I decided to say, “Yeah, yeah, I’m a classy guy, yeah”…now they didn’t confirm…but they didn’t deny either…they actually didn’t react at all like they don’t to most of what I say…but in my book, that is confirming…I classy…my book’s on sale after…you read this…well, it’s on sale now, but don’t leave to buy it now like the last time…the bookstore is where you fuckers must have gone…ok…back to back on track…
…our conversation…how do people become or decide to become gynecologists or priests?...well, remember we talked about voices inside our heads…most people have 1 to 2 to 3…our president Bush has like 50 going at once…that’s why during press conferences he smiles after reporting more deaths in Iraq and tells us every soldier counts after emphasizing APProximately 3,000 have deceased…and now he is right…9-11 and Iraq are linked…
…voices inside our head…we all have them…do you people realize?...we live in a world where people and the voices inside their heads conversate and some where along the line, or maybe between lines, they conclude, that yes, I will become…
…become a clown…what exactly did your mother do so wrong to make you hate her so much for you to become a clown?...look…in the off season, I do porn flicks…but my mom understands…every actor has to start somewhere…and my mom supports that…but no mom supports their child that decides to become a clown…unless the mother’s family was in the circus and she became a clown too…I actually thought about becoming a clown…but then remembered I do have a mother and rejected that idea…but while I was pondering clownhood, I wondered…what’s the market like these days for clowns?...I mean there’s a lot of birthdays coming up next month…and the month after that…I’m not sure after the next…but I’ll get back to you on that…at your kid’s birthday party…whoa…you mean you’re not hiring me to entertain the munchkins?...bullshit…no?…horse manure…maybe I will become a clown…or a priest…
…so there you go…if there are clowns in this world then concluding to become a gynecologist doesn’t seem that ridiculous…except at family events…how’s work going?, the answer to that is not what a gynecologist’s relative wants to hear when singing Jingle Bells with the little shits…or celebrating Kwanza with Joel Osteen, the white preacher that got lost on his way to the church, but now sells out stadiums broadcasted on Black Entertainment…
…yeah BET…I think this is a good transition point for me to announce that I’m pondering on about bringing back the underground railroad…
…hey Whitey…you ever think about creating a station called WET…you know…White Entertainment…no…why?...because that’d be racist?...well, BET certainly isn’t…I’m glad we covered that…and there’s a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
...Saturday's gone...it's Sunday and time for some Mo Jo...it's also the day some be lazy...others admit sins to the big guy upstairs...we've gone over this before...I'm not sure upstairs has a big guy...whatever you believe in, be open-minded enough to think, maybe the G.O.D. is a hermaphrodite...and Jesus was the Original Lesbian...only explanation for obsession of the son?...son and lesbo you ask?...get off my pen...it's Sunday, and it's giving me that Sunday feeling of Monday creeping in and feels like it's time for another week of school...but for now it's summer and I don't attend places of higher learning anymore...apparently I'm as high as can be...I'm white and I'm free...as Martin used to say...so many feel Monday creeping in and it's time for many to go back to work...or for others, the safehood of the weekends slipping away, and you can't use "it's the weekend" as an excuse for still not having a summer job...so, for others, it's back to job search time...and as you all can tell, I'm very motivated for the job seeking process...motivated and optimistic to the point I'm already at the interview for "whatever" jobby job...however, I feel the possibility of the runs emerging from yesterday's Mo Jo...but the interview must go on...and they say wearing Huggies during mid-20s is ridiculous...I say they say ridiculous things...and say if wearing diapers lands a job that makes Moms proud, let there be a cushion when I'm answering the money questions:
Interviewer Mo Fo: It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Kennedy...
Me (non-Mo Fo): Oh, I am sure it is...I met myself 20 plus years ago...and I don't recall the exact date, or weather, or any corny-ass details like that...however, I assure you, it was a pleasure to meet me...
Interviewer: Oh, well I see you have a sense of...
(Cut Mo Fo off...show I'm not intimidated by nathan...who would be - rhetorical)...
Me:...I even get humbled at the idea of being in my presence...shake my head at the idea I've met me...
(Interview continues in above fashion...me flawlessness...well...during job interviews, the interviewer will eventually ask the interview-e to name one negative about themselves...I usually say)...
Me: My only flaw is that I don't have a sense of humor...wasn't born with one...however, the lack of one sense often strengthens another...I've got an uncanning ability to smell...and sir, you may smell like shit...but I smell terrific..."...
I haven't heard back from that Mo Fo yet...because like I said, I haven't gone on that interview yet...but we all agree...with the above game plan...who knows if I'll get the job?...Jesus?...but it's certain my below cheeks will be dry - Huggies...work every time...well, except that one time on that date...but we promise that'll never happen again...we'd guarantee thus...but there are no guarantees in life...we aren't sure if you people knew that...so we thought we'd put it in our diaper commercial...once again, this is brought to you by Huggies...enjoy dry below cheeks..."
I recently got an endorsement deal with Huggies...the diaper president is an avid reader of my blog...he liked my style and thought who better to advertise our product, and a role model for the kids too...and apparently...there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
Interviewer Mo Fo: It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Kennedy...
Me (non-Mo Fo): Oh, I am sure it is...I met myself 20 plus years ago...and I don't recall the exact date, or weather, or any corny-ass details like that...however, I assure you, it was a pleasure to meet me...
Interviewer: Oh, well I see you have a sense of...
(Cut Mo Fo off...show I'm not intimidated by nathan...who would be - rhetorical)...
Me:...I even get humbled at the idea of being in my presence...shake my head at the idea I've met me...
(Interview continues in above fashion...me flawlessness...well...during job interviews, the interviewer will eventually ask the interview-e to name one negative about themselves...I usually say)...
Me: My only flaw is that I don't have a sense of humor...wasn't born with one...however, the lack of one sense often strengthens another...I've got an uncanning ability to smell...and sir, you may smell like shit...but I smell terrific..."...
I haven't heard back from that Mo Fo yet...because like I said, I haven't gone on that interview yet...but we all agree...with the above game plan...who knows if I'll get the job?...Jesus?...but it's certain my below cheeks will be dry - Huggies...work every time...well, except that one time on that date...but we promise that'll never happen again...we'd guarantee thus...but there are no guarantees in life...we aren't sure if you people knew that...so we thought we'd put it in our diaper commercial...once again, this is brought to you by Huggies...enjoy dry below cheeks..."
I recently got an endorsement deal with Huggies...the diaper president is an avid reader of my blog...he liked my style and thought who better to advertise our product, and a role model for the kids too...and apparently...there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
...Sunday Mo Jo...
..."It is what it is"...when ya get older IT has a tendency to hang lower than thee that is slightly tilted to the left...put that in your notes, clear your desks and concoct a formula for this week's Sunday Mo Jo...you all can feel what I'm getting at here people...you all knew it was coming...and I now will make it offical...I will be running for President of the United States of America for the election of 2020...I should probably end this mo jo with that news...and pick it up next week...I know it's a lot to sink in...but this week's mo jo must go on...we've got a lot of work to do here people...and like they say, "it's never too late"...which is rediculous...so I'm gonna reverse that and "it's never too early"...despite "what she said"...many think it's too early for my slogan...but it's not...end of that debate...Kennedy's one and oh...and the slogan goes - "Kennedy 2020 - 'IT Is What IT Is"...is it not -- rhetorical...during all the debates and press conferences I will break out my slogan that is undebatable...not even you sir can deny thee slogan, "IT Is What IT Is"...it doesn't falter on any of the issues...the Iraq War?..."IT Is What IT Is"...our education system?..."IT Is What IT Is"...Global Warming?..."IT Is What IT Is"...Immigration?..."IT Is What IT Is"...Rudy Guliani?..."Well, him dressing up as a woman frequently confuses things, but IT Is still What IT Is"...Hurricane Katrina?..."IT Is What IT Is...and what it is is not equality"...Barack Obama, is he black enough?..."IT Is What IT Is...however Gary Sheffield has the offical equation on that issue"...a slogan one can easily improvise off of...like a Jazz or Blues Musician..."IT Is What IT Is Blues"...my campaign's theme song...if you don't like it, well, "IT Is What IT Is"...
"IT Is What IT Is Blues"
...The Iraq War?
"IT Is What IT Is"
our education system?
"IT Is What IT Is"
Global Warming?
"IT Is What IT Is"
Immigration?
"IT Is What IT Is"
Rudy Guliani?
"Well, him dressing up as a woman frequently confuses things, but IT Is still What IT Is"
Hurricane Katrina?
"IT Is What IT Is...and what it is is not equality"
Barack Obama, is he black enough?
"IT Is What IT Is...however Gary Sheffeild has the offical equation on that issue"...
Apparently hell is catchy like that blues number...I'm also working on a song called "The Song That End in Blues Blues"...I'll have it done by election time...and by then, even if you're not Ace of Base, you'll be able to "see the sign"...sign reading "IT Is What IT Is"...and IT is time for...and there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
"IT Is What IT Is Blues"
...The Iraq War?
"IT Is What IT Is"
our education system?
"IT Is What IT Is"
Global Warming?
"IT Is What IT Is"
Immigration?
"IT Is What IT Is"
Rudy Guliani?
"Well, him dressing up as a woman frequently confuses things, but IT Is still What IT Is"
Hurricane Katrina?
"IT Is What IT Is...and what it is is not equality"
Barack Obama, is he black enough?
"IT Is What IT Is...however Gary Sheffeild has the offical equation on that issue"...
Apparently hell is catchy like that blues number...I'm also working on a song called "The Song That End in Blues Blues"...I'll have it done by election time...and by then, even if you're not Ace of Base, you'll be able to "see the sign"...sign reading "IT Is What IT Is"...and IT is time for...and there's a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo...
...Sunday Mo Jo...
…I once got stuck in our local Walmart for a week…you know…this Walmart’s automatic doors were broken…and if we as Americans start opening doors again, the terrorists win…after a week, I finally slipped out when a misses opened the door in front of me, supplying me that automatic door…while I was there I tried on all the clothes in the store…jeans, sneakers, socks, lady garments…but what happens at Walmart stays at Walmart…unless of course you actually buy that crap they sell and wear it in the real world…crossing my fingers, waiting on my application to gain access into that place…some of you are probably wearing what I tried on…unfortunately for you, I had the major runs that week…tell Al Gore about that inconvenient truth…as I walked out the store, the misses, my automatic door, smiled at me and said, “Have a nice day”…and I responded, “Don’t tell me what to do”…then my mom told me to move out the house…yeah, I texted my mom to come to Walmart and open the door for me…I told her it was for the troops…she hopped in her SUV, going 90 on the main roads and 20 on the highway…my mom, better known as Rock-n-Rita, had declared me missing…she ordered our local police department, consisting of all my old high school friends, to find me…during that week you could find me in the local grocery stores on milk cartons…the chocolate milk only though…my mom knows I think drinking just white milk is racist…gotta even things out here…also find my picture posted on trees in da neighborhood…either my old friends suck at hide-and-seek – still…or they just didn’t look in our local Walmart…and this makes sense because I’ve always been known for being anti-Walmart…that’s why I try on all the clothes and hopefully ruin them…because like all you know…I am anti-Walmart and anti-sleep…shits just a fad…we aren’t in the 90s anymore…but I am also now anti-shower…well, because I’ve grown my orange hair out and now have dreads…which makes coffee drinking difficult and hairy…and there’s a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo with a flow of a Ben Harper show...
…that is the best 40 minutes of music I have ever heard…now, before you jump the gun, or anything else one must jump in order to get their hands on Harper’s “Lifeline”…I am not saying this is the best 40 minutes of music I’ve ever heard…I may have made that statement because I’m high on sleep deprivation…or maybe the music I just listened to was really that good…I’ll have to take a cat nap (equivalent to a half dozen people naps…which is also the same as 6 naps, but humans like to sophisticate their speech up while achieving nothing really)…a cat nap to give more validity to this…I’m into music that makes you depressed while uplifts a cracker too…other albums that give this feel are: Van Morrison’s “Moodance”…and Cat Power’s “The Greatest”…however, those two artists and albums, I did not anticipate…Morrison is a musician that my father passed onto my brother and I…raise your Guinness pints for Irishmen…-“Moodance” was my first impression of him…and the same goes for Cat Power’s “Greatest”…on the other hand, I have been listening to Ben Harper’s music since I sucked my thumb…which brings me, a Ben Harper fan for approx. 5 years…I’m 25?...I’ve been anticipating Ben’s new one since his last one…not that his last, “Both Sides of the Gun”, wasn’t good…I’m just a greedy fan and “we want more Benjamen!”…the whole reason I’m writing this, other than my sleeping skills deceased, is because “Lifeline” delivered…it’s his best album yet…I like all of his albums, but I love “Diamonds on the Inside”, and “There Will Be A Light” with The Blind Boys of Alabama…good news is, I like “Lifeline”, after one listen, the most…there is nothing like waiting for an album and having it exceed expectations…that’s what my parents say about their child writing this…or what ladies have also said during yearly “Sarcastic Days”…this album, recorded in a Paris studio, was completed in 7 days, or one more day than a half dozen…so I’m gonna give this a week listen and write back hopefully to confirm this…how come the ladies haven’t called back to confirm theirs?...I’ll get back to ya in 7 days…the actual album comes out August 28th, next Tuesday…but you don’t have to look too hard to hear it online…BUY The Real Thing though…and there’s a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
...Sunday Mo Jo...
Sexy never went anywhere…I have a mirror…but guess what is back…Sunday Mo Jo is, whether or not your name is Jack…and now American politics are pondering the saying, “Once you go black, you never go back”, in a different light these days…it doesn’t smell like roses, because I’ve never smelled roses before…well, I have, but in that case we aren’t referring to the flower, but a dancer, that is obviously paying for college…I’ll give in for a second and reveal that I have smelled roses before and I’m not impressed…and refuse to think that women truly love them so much…roses smo-ses…furthermore…or less…it does smell like something’s in the air these days…and I have a clogged nostril…not nostrils…only one is clogged and the other is making a whistling noise to the tune of Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind”…I can’t really smell that well…in fact, I suck at smelling…never been good at it…but the stench ‘round her’ is so strong that it might lead a corny-ass mo fo to come up with a ridiculous metaphor, but that I will not do…it’s a policy of mine…and should be a policy of President Barack HUESSEIN Obama’s presidency…speaking of our new president…what I believe I smell is Obama’s feekle odor…dude is like a Rocket Scientist with his poetic oratory (ridiculous), but his ass reeks…however, other than that being in the air, many of Dylan’s questions no longer have to blow…when Obama was elected, I magically turned on “Blowing in the Wind” and it sounded like a f*cking (?) victory song…some may mock the HOPE people are putting in one man, but sh*t, Mr. Huessein…I call people by their middle name…it’s an un-common courtesy…hardy har har…I’m bringing that back too…Barack is undeniably inspirational…Jesus even showed up for the inauguration…in the form of Shuttlesworth that is…Ray! Allen was there…and many packers of the bible are devastated, that yes, Jesus is black…and hopefully Barack will bring back some respectability to the presidency…however, am I the only one that realized John McCain’s campaign never brought up how much Obama is like Bush…there truly is an elephant in this room…it’s next to the cardboard cutout of the Kennedy’s new cat COSMO!...Mo!...I’ll be coming home soon whether or not you’re reading this…the Obama-Bush linkage is not referring to intelligence…I mean George Bush is still looking for Waldo for crying out loud when the 2nd graders I was substitute teaching for once called me a leprechaun…those were the short lived days of when I grew pubic hair around my lips disguised as a goatee…not exactly comparable to the days my father decided to grow a mustache back in the 70s…I wish I had this frame of mind back in the day…no dad, I don’t have to listen to you…you used to rock the stache and doing things like that enables corny as mo fos to get away with saying corny ass sayings like “let’s be serious”…I don’t have to listen to anyone that wears pubic hair above their upper lip…this is a democracy, a word Bush just looked up on Wikipedia when attempting to rewrite his bio…the Obama-Bush linkage is about inspiration…both are a reflection that ANYTHING is possible…hardy har har…remind self to look up the origins of “hardy har har” and raise a Guinness pint to the mo fo inventor…and for now, and in the spirit of the recent history made, I raise this cup of Sunday Mo Jo to you Mr. President…Obama too…and there’s a Cup of Sunday Mo Jo…
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