I am not a morning person

No real announcement here. But there's something about waking up with the roosters that is just not my cup of tea. I like being a night-owl, dammit. This is just too early to be up. I'll probably be eating all dam day as my stomach tries to adjust. People that actually get up this early regularly are truly dedicated. I can't do it, B. I like my flexible schedule. It's definitely one of the pros when I say this job has its trade-offs.

Duh, b!tches

So the work laptop froze up on me about 3 seconds before I was about to hit the publish button. I even had an ill quote from a Nas joint as the title, but now I don't even feel like finding that shT again. I had written a nice little ditty about the emotional duress I had to endure whilst tryingto enjoy a nice evening of basketball. But I've lost the mojo to retype what I said so to summarize. Grown a$$ men need to act like grown a$$ men. Leave the pride, the ego, the jealousy, and the tough-guy shT at the door. This goes to both REESE and ALEX, who both acted like some bona-fide d!ckheads tonight and ruined the mood. There's too much other drama going ion for me to have two break up a fight twice and bear-hug someone while pinning their arms backwards to prevent further scuffling. Yup...tonight's games sucked because of you two. This ain't Norfolk, Almont, Franklin Field, or Washington Park. Leave that dumb shT alone. Comprende, muthafuqas?

National Day of Absence against Racism, Poverty and War

This was 45 minutes ago. They are headed downtown now. See the site for more info on Rosa Parks Human Rights Day.

I've Got 2 Million Guns In My Trunk

Caught your attention though, right? This is three-part quickie vent.

My man 9th Wonder eloquently clears the air with some straightforward shT from the heart. Don't attack the cats really making an attempt to do the right thing with this here ART-form, muthafuqa.

Speaking of Little Brother, I quoted Phonte a while back about how "when you ego trip you end up losing your luggage." Well, it seems some group out of London put the proverbial foot in their mouth by rashing on Rhymefest for some perceived disses against them. It's really not that serious, muthafuqa. Shut the fuq up and rap. Better yet; make hip-hop music. Take a step above rapping and really represent for the UK instead of threatening to fuq someone up. That shT is just making you look even wacker, B.

For the record, can we just stop all the tough guy shT in general. We've just hit the ten-year high for murders in the Bean. With another month to go, it is unfortunately a very safe bet to say that we will be eclipsing this record, potna. And the two most recent death? Two seventeen year olds. WHAT THE FUQ?!I cannot help be feel helpless, but still...you'd think something can be done with simple steps to curb the gun flow. I picked up the latest copy of a student-produced newspaper called T.I.P. and one article written by one young lady said something to the effect of how the guns are being passed around like a library card on Lyndhurst Street. If the name doesn't sound familiar, it's the same street that caught a lot of heat earlier this year for the abundance of heat popping off ((pun intended) and ended up under occupation for week. But all the attention seems to have died down now. And top all of this off, gun battles are still raging at FIVE P.M. IN THE MUTHAFUQING AFTERNOON and some kid decided he'd be Jack Spade for the day and rolled to school with a burner tucked in his waist. My head hurts...and it ain't my mouth causing it this time. As a matter of fact, if I only do one ounce of work tomorrow, it will be to contact and talk with Tina Chery. Whatever baby steps are necessary...we need to be about our biz. Just got finished talking to kat no long ago so all interested parties can pencil in Dec 12th or 13th as the date for the stop snitchin workshop in Cambridge. Mari and I already did some brainstorming and I put a slight bug in a few people's ears. Now, it's time to do some heavy recruiting; some heavy lifting too. Am I my brother's (or sister's) keeper? I'm trying, son.