Why I don't date black women...

Keshia Knight Pulliam aka Rudy Huxtable

  A few nights ago my girlfriend asked me, "Why don't you date black women?" Seeming how my top three dream girls are Gabrielle Union, Rudy from the Cosby show (no one ever really remembers her real name) and Sanaa Lathan it is a wonder why I am not dating black women that look similar to the three of them. It has been a question that has lingered throughout my adult life. Some going as far as saying, "You look like you would date a white girl." I'm not even sure what that means exactly.
  What I am not is a self hating black man that would lump all black women together under one all encompassing stereotype. You will never ever hear me spew such vitriol phrases like "All black women are domineering." Or, "All black women want is a nigga with money!" Um...hold on. I have two question. Who the fuck are you dating?  Let's not confuse a demand for respect with domineering. I have gotten out of line with my current girlfriend and women of other races and they quickly checked my black ass.
  Secondly, if a black woman is looking for someone in or near her socio-economic level she is somehow a gold digging bitch? Sorry black men but I refuse to leap onto the "why I don't date black women" bandwagon. It is one matter to have a preference but another altogether vicious matter to slander black women because of your experiences. Please, send me the memo when we revert to biblical times when women are seen as property. Which leads me to why I don't date black women.

Gabrielle Union

  According to a study conducted by the Washington Post and Kaiser Family Foundation, black women (followed by a close second among black men) are the most spiritual people in America. Researchers say that among black women 74 percent said that, "living a religious life" is very important. In times of despair, 87 percent of black women look to their faith to get them through. If you know me or have read my blogs you know that I'm an atheist and therein lies the problem.
  I have gone on dates with religious black women that refuse to date me any further because I am an atheist. It goes a little something like this. The check up call that all girls get from their friend goes well. During the course of the evening the young lady will ask what church do I attend. When I tell them that I'm atheist they are immediately withdrawn for the duration of the evening. For good measure the young lady might ask, "Did you say you were atheist? Oh, but you're so nice. I assumed you were Christian." Then I reply, "Just because I'm atheist doesn't mean that I can treat people with indecency." By this point they are visibly confused.
 Once a girl I was dating asked me to go to church with her. Of course I said no thanks and gave her my reasoning. She called me a gentlemen before the question and the devil afterwards. No really, she called me the devil. I wasn't offended because, well, I don't believe in the devil. Can't be angry with something I don't believe in.

Sanaa Lathan

  Christian talk about being equally yoked and to be honest it sounds like a really delicious omelet. One's significant other must be similar in someways in order for a relationship to develop into something meaningful. I can't date someone who is religious. Especially if they prescribe to any of the Abrahamic religions. While I can have friends who are religious, dating someone is entirely different. If it leads to marriage and children, I would like for my children to decide whether they want to be religious. They have plenty of other societal norms that they will be indoctrinated into but religion should not be one of them.
  Statistically speaking, Blacks, Latinos and Arabs are not within the favorable percentages of dating possibilities because culturally, they are all highly religious. The most important reason I don't date black women is because I have a wonderful atheist girlfriend that I love dearly. Thus, rendering me ineligible. Shout out to Michelle Kang!

I found a blog where black men gave reasons to why they don't date black women. Some interesting and some were just outright hurtful. Of course the views expressed are not the authors.
 

Pipe em down

  I think his name was Jake, although I'm not sure. I could be coming off a tad bit racist by giving him a supposed white name. I would be a little offended if someone were to call me a stereotypical black name like Tyrone, Jamal or the all encompassing Reggie. Nonetheless, I think that's what he told me to call him. I don't know what I expected him to be. Being perfectly frank, I thought he would be the king of all that sucks ass during Ole 55's Wednesday open mic night.

 "Hey, Jake! You wanna play something?"

"My god," I thought. "Mr. Peppermint's love child with Joaquin Phoenix lives in Busan, South Korea?" Jake turned around with a beer in one hand and a fucking bagpipe in the other. I had had enough of performers playing weird instruments. Earlier in the night, a guy was playing the banjo. I had never seen a real person play the banjo and I was about to witness a man playing the fucking bagpipes. I thought the bagpipes were a thing of lore, prescribed to leprechauns and Scottish blokes. I couldn't leave the bar because this was going to be a night that ended with pure comedy and I wanted in.
  There were a splattering of women in the bar but it was clearly hot, sweaty and cock to cock.  He appeared on stage with his shirt opened exposing a wicked sweet tattoo. He wore some obnoxiously high cut off pants. Although, I saw him a few weeks later at a bar in what looked to be his underwear. He tilted his sand speckled hat right above the only other visible part of his face, his eyes. Then he began to play.
  I really wanted to laugh at Jake who looked like a mixture of Jay and Silent Bob. I silently wanted to see him fail. Silently because as a comedian, I know how hard it is to get up on stage and perform for assholes. I would have loved to live vicariously through a douche bag yelling "Is this taint really playing the bagpipes?" I didn't want to like anything new nor did I want to appreciate a young Gandalf The Grey playing great music via bagpipes. He truly made me eat my shit. Two milky handfuls of my own shit. Contrarily, I appreciated it too.
  What I had not equated to the equation was the amount of chicks he had rocking to his rendition of Scotland the Brave. Dave Chappelle (click the link) had one thing wrong. White people not only go crazy over the guitar but apparently the bagpipes as well. Suddenly the sweet scent of pussy was everywhere! This man had single handedly gotten himself sexed and other guys as well. His tattoo swelled every time he blew a note. His sweat drained off him like a fat man having sex.  Hell, Jake played like a man fucking his instrument. And when he was done, we all reached a musical climax with him.
  The beauty of Jake is the beauty of being a foreigner in Korea. We are the truly eclectic part from the West. We are the weird, the crazed, the derelicts and sometimes the irreligious. At least thats what some may think of us for living in a land unlike our own. But above all else we are the brave. Not because we left whatever city or province we come from but because we are unafraid to share our experiences or our talent with others. Though I have never spoken to him after that night at Ole 55, I want to thank you Jake for reminding me why we are epic.

Embrace that ass

not the ass I'm talking about

  I have a confession to make. I'm in love with big legged women. At present, I'm dating a big legged Asian woman. I'm aware that this may indeed sound like an oxymoron. If I was at liberty to show you pictures you would undoubtedly agree. If you follow my blog as a regular or from a afar you know that I'm black American. In which case my opening monologue will be but a mere stereotype that is probably true.  
  I can not tell you where the black man's lust for big legged women originated. I can only tell you that this lust has evaded both socioeconomic and generational gaps within the black community. In fact, it is the glue that holds the black community together. Well, the last statement may definitely be untrue. 
  I will not try to to come up with a cleaver transition into my declaration. Such carnal statements just need to be said. Korean women SHOW DAT ASS. Just in case the Korean government is reading this, I do not mean this in a literal sense. Unless, of course, my Korean sisters feel that they should. What I mean is these days, I’m beginning to see more Korean women with nice butts. Not in a video vixen, pawg kinda way but in a “I see you girl” kinda way.
  Personally, Korean women with round booties need to embrace them. Korean girls with thick thighs should embrace them as well. It’s becoming a little old seeing women wear baggy clothes or sweaters in the summer. Who the hell are you fooling. As a guy that unabashedly gets through life by looking, (sometimes following that ass for blocks), I appreciate a nice figure. The last sentence sounded a bit stalkerish. My point is that my Korean sisters should be proud of that phat ass.
  Case in point: I have a co worker at my job that wears long shirts and sweaters in the blistering fucking heat. One day she decided to wear a skirt and a short sleeved shirt. I was like “Damn (insert name here) that ass is nice.” Of course I didn’t relay my delight to her but maybe she could see me glancing at it. Which is probably the reason she went immediately back to wearing Eskimo gear. We live on the fucking beach though!

  At any rate, like with any movement it must start from within that particular culture. No matter how fond I am of dat ass, as a man, I’m just that, a man.  Women or any group that faces inequality do not need someone from the dominate group to tell them how they should advance the culture. What the dominate group must do is understand and help when it is wanted. But damn Korean sisters, I sure do wish you would put those sweaters away in the summer.

  

Be kind, get in line

  I've noticed a few things when I leave this place to visit my country or another. That Korea is kinda rude. While being gawked over or pointed at can be a bit disheartening, it doesn't qualify in the rudeness category. I can imagine what indigenous people might have thought upon seeing foreigners. In their respective languages it might sound similar to "What the fuck is that?" Some would argue that as a developed nation, Korea should have some semblance of decency and not be astonished when seeing a non white foreigner. I agree with this annoyance but I chalk it up to Korea being a new player on social awareness on a global scale.

  What I find hard to tolerate is rudeness in daily social interactions. I can not tolerate clearly being next in line to pay for my items and the clerk taking a person's money and items ahead of me. I can not tolerate having the elevator door opening up to a person that will not let me get off first. Oh! The look you get when they walk into you! As if wanting to get off the elevator is a serious infraction on the quality of life. I can not tolerate someone closing my foot up in the elevator because I took a nano second to long getting off. I consider myself lucky that the elevator doors are not made of sharp, metal blades or I would have no feet to put my Air Jordan's into.

  In keeping with the thread of impatience I can not tolerate people not letting other people get off the subway before bursting into the subway car. That's just regotdamndiculous! I can not tolerate someone abruptly stopping to text instead of moving to the side. Again, looking at me as if I deliberately tried to ram my dick into their back. Aside from all that I really hate the grocery store etiquette. I always have to ask myself "did this person move my basket without at least saying excuse me?" Or "did you really just ram your basket into me? I'm tall and black, you can't miss me!" I'm the black spot in a homogeneous society...how can you not see me in a well lit grocery store?

  I've visited a few countries now, and the locals were polite. Even in some of the poorest countries, even the Asian countries that some Korean nationals degrade, got it right in the politeness department. No one did any of the aforementioned complaints. When I return to Korea from traveling, I have to wonder why  I fell in love with this country to begin with. While I can tolerate ignorance regarding ethnicity and nationality, I can not tolerate rudeness. Some might say that it's Korean culture or that culture is relative to where you are in the world. I say there must be a barometer on kindness to people outside of your immediate circle. For starters, instead of looking at me or others as if I sexually assaulted your back because you decided it was the best time to watch Gangnam Style on your cell phone, you should say your apologies.

I genuinely like that Seoul Metro Transit is displaying proper subway etiquette on the subway station monitors. Hopefully it trickles down to other aspect of social life.

I Don't Give A FUCK!!!!

  Last Saturday night I was sitting in a bar that was far too loud and unruly to request my signature double shot of Jack Daniels on the rocks. I found myself sitting at a crammed table with a friend and seven other people I didn't know. My unfamiliarity with the group, coupled with music that was dope six years ago, made the sea between us the Pacific.  Somebody needed to throw me a life jacket by starting a conversation.

  This kid seated to my right yelled something in my ear. I couldn't hear him. His inaudible loudness simply made me want to slap the shit outta him. But I didn't because people still are inclined to judge a book by its cover. When my ears recovered, he repeated and said that he and his two other buddies were gay. His buddy objected from across the table and over the music. With a dumb ass look on my face, I replied,O...K. He returned with "is that OK?".

  I thought to myself, since when do people break the ice by asking if one's sexual orientation is OK with me. That is like asking if it is cool that I'm black once I've already entered your presence. Dude, of course it is fine because it is who you are. It's not like I can stop being a black person. "Oh, so it's not cool that I'm black? Well, I have a switch on my back, so feel free to turn it off." In keeping with the meme, Not A Single fuck Was Given.
 
  Dear Guy sitting next to me in that loud ass bar,
Don't make any attempt to defiend who you are. Thank you and you're welcome!
The Council
 
 

Girl in Elevator

Imagine being in the last car with a woman. You look at her in passing and think, "Damn, look at those titties!" or "I hope she doesn't get off at the same stop as me." Then she does. It doesn't help that it's night. The thought in passing becomes a real concern when the lone woman on the subway car takes your exact exit. You try to assure yourself that she is going in a different direction but you quickly realize she isn't.
Part of you wants to speed by her so that she knows you're not trying to follow her. Yet, if you try this maneuver you run the risk of her pepper spraying your ass. Because walking briskly can be seen as a sign of aggression under the cover of night. If you stay behind her you still look suspicious. So you pray to a god that you don't believe in that she doesn't live in your building...
Wrong again because she does live in your building! She noticed you from the subway ride and by now is giving you the kind of face that says "fuck with me if you wanna see me on my cycle times ten!" You forsake being a gentlemen by getting on first to give her the subtle social cue that you are not following her nor do you give a fuck about chivalry. But by this point, no matter what you do in her mind you are following her! What are the odds?!
You hit the button for the floor you live on saying under your breathe "bitch better not live on my floor!" You wonder if you said bitch aloud or in your mind. Your relief turns to dread when you realize that she is getting off the elevator before you and the pepper spray is ready. You know, just in case you wanna see her on her cycle times ten.
On a walk home from the subway you've lusted after her breast, been afraid of her and was so angry that you called her a bitch! I understand why women are cautious but I wish the world was different.
Man problems....contrary to popular belief they're bigger than "not getting pussy."

The Number

"She said she's only fuck bout four or five niggas, so you know you gotta multiply by three." - J.Cole

Generally speaking, men are obsessed with numbers. Horse power, salary and the size of our dicks. Maybe porn has something to do with the latter bit. I'd like to think it's out of evolutionary necessity. The most important numbers as it relates to romantic relationships are her numbers.
The topic came up recently at a guys only meeting. The kind where we discuss man business at a bar or man cave. Although with the advent of smart phones guys only meetings increasingly occur in group chats. (shout out to the Wolf Pack!) Most of the guys in the chat had a problem if her numbers were too high.
The answers varied from her being a reflection of her partner to the male ego and even out right chauvinism. A few made valid points about contracting an STD. STDs aside, though they can't be taking lightly, men need their phallus shaped egos stroked. Even the most liberal among us men need our ego rubbed and tugged by a nice soft hand ever so often.
Humans, want to believe that only one person can satisfy our emotional needs. To a greater extent we want to believe only one person for our entire adult lives can satisfy our sexual urges. So in turn if her number is too "high" men, generally speaking, may be deterred. He may even label her a hoe for seeking sexual satisfaction with multiple men.
Thing is we are all highly sexual beings! Hell, while writing this blog I've masturbated twice! To think that we were made to be with only one person our entire lives is against human nature. I'm not talking about polygamy but polyamory. Sorry, that is a blog for another day.
To be clear, men, western culture is no longer a culture in which women live in sexual conservatism but of sexual liberation. That dick may be good but others have made her toes curl as well And vice versa. Be mindful of STD's but also know that the world our parents once lived in is now a brave new world.
I hoped you picked up on the double entendre in the aforementioned sentence...yeah, just stroking my ego.

Cock Sucker as an insult

   According to Louis C.K. a majority of earth's population are cock suckers. It's a fair assessment. This may be an over generalization but lots of women suck cocks, men in prison, as well as homosexual and bisexual men. I don't know about you but if someone is threatening my life and I had to suck a cock to live then well you know...I would suck a cock. Then again he might kill me anyway because I'd be terrible at it.
   Recently, I decided to downsize my insults. Pussy had to go because pussy is awesome. It gives birth and pussy relieves stress so that men don't go postal on the world. I can see no reason to waste such a wonderful word on an idiot. Mother Fucker can stay though. Hey, no one wants to fuck their mom. Cock sucker, while I loved it -and/or them- is a word that denotes abhorrent behavior. Or should I say supposed abhorrent behavior. To a homophobic man, any insult that relates to femininity, is akin to his best friend fucking his mom before his very eyes.
   Calling a man a cock sucker is an attack on femininity. First it is an attack on ones masculinity but more importantly, the attack implies that women are weak. No one would argue that as it relates to physical strength men are the dominate of the two sexes. Even during sexual intercourse it can be argued that men dominate in that arena as well. Although, if you get to dominant - minute men - you could find yourself without a sexual partner (meet your partner's needs). The bigger question is, what constitutes feminine and masculine behavior? The last time I checked we don't live in a culture where brute strength is required but rather intellect. At any rate, from this day forward I shall not call another person a cock sucker because of it's negative connotations. Well, I take that back. I will call a young lady a cock sucker during sex as a term of endearment. What? It's cool, she can call me a carpet muncher.

I leave you with the comedian Louis C.K.

   

Smoking crack after the year 1999

  If you started smoking crack after the year 1999, you obviously didn't see what it did to people in the 80S and 90s. Honestly, you had a good ten to twenty years to see the effects of crack. Seeing someone transform into a dick sucking zombie was enough for me to say fuck crack.
  Granted crack has a bad name. If it weren't for Saturday morning cartoons and crack I wouldn't have remembered the eighties. Oh, how I loved watching Ghostbusters and loathed the crack head that pawned our tv!  Besides crack won't make you get naked and chew another man's face. You might suck a few miscellaneous dicks, though. But who hasn't sucked a dick to get ahead socially or economically?
  I grew up around crack. As we speak there is a crack head asking me if we met in Paris, France. When I walk down the street to buy some cigs, a lady, the same age as my mother, asks to blow me for a quarter. I'm thinking she should set her standards a little higher. Not too high because then it becomes unaffordable. Over night, a nice working class neighborhood can become crack head central. Once a person becomes a dick sucking zombie, crack is smoked on the curb in broad daylight, in front of an abandoned house. Hell, marijuana isn't smoked so casually! Here I am locking myself in the bathroom and stuffing a towel through every crevice to keep the ganja smell from escaping and these cock suckers are smoking crack without shame.

Sugar, Water, Artificial Flavors - Hood drink

  It seems like I would give crack some praised though. When my dad sold crack, it did help put food on the table. For a short time we did get to live in a nice neighborhood. Oh, I can't forget how it got my dad new Air Jordans, school clothes for me and my brothers, and us him a nintendo. How easily I forget my love affair with crack when I'm not being whined and dined with now and later candy and jungle juice! I remember being six years old when I had my first and only unintentional drug related infraction.
  I was standing in front of an apartment complex and I yelled 5-0. I'm sure the police were somewhere in the vicinity but none were in eyesight. Can you blame a six year old who is only mimicking what he is exposed to? Watching people scramble to hide the stash was such a delightful event! They were like cockroaches scurrying along as if somebody had turned on the lights. Lights being the po-pos. My dad worked for a ruthless Jamaican that had stabbed my uncle in the neck for smoking up the product. It's ok though because it was apart of the code (check Biggie's Ten Crack Commandments below for references). I can only imagine what he would do to my dad. When my dad asked if I had seen the police I simply reply no. He went silent and that was the last time I ever went to the trap. There went bring your child to work day.
  The Council will make a declaration. The next time you can't fully appreciate how someone can justify killing  their own community by means of crack. You can do 4 of the following things.
1. Get a costume like Batman and become a vigilante. This might get you killed but you have the what the fuck factor on your side which might give you time to escape.
2. Confront your neighborhood d-boy. This act will certainly get you killed almost immediately
3. Call the cops. HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!
4. Have a young child run down the street screaming "The po-pos are coming" as if it were the American Revolution.

The (official) Website of Alex Clermont

The (official) Website of Alex Clermont
Check my man out! Met a while back and he is a really cool guy!

Don't eat my dog!

   In my hood everyone has a burglary system. No, not the kind that puts some sort of magnetic force field around your house. Our home invasion security might be an AK-47 highly dependent upon the laws of said state. The other is always a fucking dog. Peta is giving me shit right now for using such a demeaning tone towards dogs. My sister made a mistake in owning a Yorkie named Haley. Not because she owns a small bitch ass dog, but because she blatantly ignored the cardinal rule to ghetto dwelling. She knows damn well she should have gotten a pit bull. Every ghetto the world over has a pit bull or hyena as a mainstay for home defense.
  There is nothing endearing about Haley. NOTHING. All she does is prance around all day with her head held high and her anus in the air. She knows her shit stinks and she doesn't give a single fuck because she's cute. After having being reprimanded a few times for shitting in a restricted area, most dogs feel remorseful. Not Haley. She will hunch her back, stare you in the eyes and take a shit in the living room.
   One would think that I would revel in the thought of Haley and her purple dog shirt being "accidentally" ran over  by the world largest construction vehicle. Contrarily, I don't wish death upon Haley because she costed a lot a money. Wait, the last statement made me sound like a slave owner from biblical times or from just over 100 years ago, but that is beside the point. If a human being decided to take an unblinking shit in the middle of my living room he deserves to be beat to the front porch of death but he doesn't deserve to die! And neither do dogs.
   I watched a documentary on Netflix about dogs. I was watching a documentary about dogs because Netflix never has movies that normal people watch. Anyway,  National Geography explored how humans have genetically engineered dogs throughout history to be their current docile selves. I kept wondering if scientist could engineer a dog that instinctively knows to use the toilet like a regular fucking human being! So, after feeling a false sense of optimism and a new found love for dogs I decided to bond with Haley by taking her for a walk.
   The obvious advantage of walking a mouse, I mean dog is chicks dig cute dogs. There's something about a six foot, two hundred pound man juxtaposed with a small ass dog that says caring. To a ghetto denizen it might say bitch nigga or  bourgeois. I normally say what the fuck.  As Haley walked me around the hood, I noticed that she began to walk more like a dog afraid of being beaten by her owner/master. Then it dawned on me that every house on the street has a pit bull!" It was as if Haley was fresh meat in the penal system. They were going to kill her. She is a dog that scoffs at male dogs with the mange. She didn't have a choice though she was probably going to be fucked.
   If you ever find yourself lost in the ghetto and the street has no outlet turn around at the third house before the last. This is undoubtedly the house where your sister's dog is almost eaten. I was fooled by the house because it had a Chihuahua in the front yard, no Mexican brethren and no Taco Bell. As I made my way towards the house I noticed the fence had a hole in it. More importantly, I noticed a pit bull coming through the hole after Haley. I yanked Haley by the leash like only a master can and then she escaped it in midair. FUCK!!! Haley was too fast for the pit bull but I wasn't so the dog came back for me. I looked at him and said you don't want these problems with all the sternness I had left in my being. Luckily he didn't attack because those words were all I had against a pit bull that came to my shoulder when standing on its hinds leg.  Anyway, I now threaten Haley with being eaten by a pack of pit bulls every time she takes a pebble like shit.
  P.S. Screw you if you thought this was going to be about East Asians eating dog meat!

Santa Claus is a pimp with a .38 special

If my dad’s dad dropped dead I would feel a generic kind of sorrow. Fuck you, don't judge me. Hell, I’m willing to bet my dad shares my sentiment.  The opening four words of this blog should be an indicator of how insignificant he is in my life.  If I were to feel any sorrow it would be for my dad, who would have no living parent. So when my dad asked me to visit his dad with him I replied “is he still alive?” 

Of course, my response was a mental one. But really was he? I had been under the impression that my dad’s dad was dead to him and that my dad had giving him a proper burial deep within the crevices of his mind. Over the years, somehow my dad developed a heart and I found myself traveling through Texas heat that rivaled hell's lobby, to see ole grand dad!

From the onset, I figured my “grandfather” (ok I know it’s bad) is a creature of habit. His current wife is named Dorothy like my dad’s mom. Apparently he has a fetish for women named Dorothy. I gave her a half hearted hug which probably communicated “you're the impostor grandma Dorothy. You’re not my granny!” Then it was on to acknowledge the reason I was here. I mean the reason why I’m here is apparent. Grandpa had sex with the real grandma Dorothy and then had dad. Then dad had sex with...ew! The reason I was standing in my grandpa’s living room embracing him with a hug you would give to a peripheral friend was unclear. 

Dr. Spencer Wells does work on tracking the movement of the human population through DNA samples from around the world. Wells (or scientist) has found that the Y chromosome goes unchanged from father to son. Looking at my grandfather I realized that.

1. He looks exactly like my father.
2. He looks exactly like my brothers and me.
3. He looks like my nephews.
4. I’m gonna look like a black Santa Claus when I become an old man.

The way he walks and talks is similar as well. I mean jeez, out of my 30 years on this fucked up planet (what? it's not fucked up?) I’ve seen this guy maybe three times that I can remember. I find it fascinating and I wonder, can personality traits be passed along genetically as well?

 
Anyway, my grandfather disappeared and reappeared in the living room. Wasn’t magic he just walked from the living room to some other room then back. When he came back he was holding a Crown Royal bag.The only bag a black Saint Nick would have. In a not so perfect world there would be Crown Royal, condoms or a frat boy’s dick inside the bag. The frat boy would be attached of course. Depending on one’s frame of reference we weren’t lucky enough to have any of those. It was a family heirloom of sorts. He was passing down a 38 special he had received from his brother before he died and now grandpa was giving it to my dad. 

 
The look on my dad's and my face was a unanimous “what the fuck kinda heirloom is this?”  I don’t know but I have this strange suspicion that this isn’t the kind thing that gets  passed through the generations. I’m just saying. I mean damn grandpa, people give rings, charms and trinkets. Hell, some people even passed down an entire fortune. You passed down a gun that has probably shot a rival pimp because somebody’s hoe chose. Even though I just imagined a scenario that is wholly untrue, it is possible. Thanks grandpa, you reappear into my life and you give me a gun. You’re swell! Love you! Yeah the sarcasm is thick. On a lighter note, if this Y chromosome shit is true he probably has a decent size dick. Thanks grandpa! 

Singpore is under a dictator?

A Better Dictator - By Joshua E. Keating | Foreign Policy
I wasn't privy to this idea that Singapore is a dictatorship. I have a strange feeling that I somehow misread the article. It reminds me of a "documentary" that I saw about Cuba. Documentary is in quotes because it seemed more like porn. Instead of showing the audience what it's like being a prostitute in Cuba, he ended up fucking Cubans (seriously check it out). Not really sure what the previous link had to do with anything but in keeping with dictators and Cuba, Current TV had cool documentary about Cuba and revolution. Yeah, um I not sure if I should refer to a documentary about Cuba as cool.

Lost the Cup

Social Experiment #1

People of Color/POC

  One dynamic that people of color share (that includes people that are not ethnically European) is the tendency to collectively embrace a member of a particular ethnic group's accomplishments.  Contrary to popular belief, I didn't celebrate the inauguration of Barack Obama with chicken, beer, and watermelon. I celebrated it with chicken, watermelon and mascato wine. In the U.S. ethnic affiliation is necessary simply because people of color (POC) are the minority. Living vicariously through a member of a respective ethnic group gives POC a chance to see themselves in a positive light.

  There are also moment when POC excommunicate members of their respective ethnicity. I have, on numerous occasions, try to excommunicate Flava Flav, the D.C. sniper and Cliff Huxatable. The reason why? People know that society judges them by what they see in the media not by what the reality is. So instead of looking society in the eye and giving them a proverbial middle finger, we apologize to let society know “we are not all like that.” 

  In Korea, I often wonder what do people think of foreigners. Because of my sometimes unsavory experiences with Korean nationals, I’m more concerned with how Korean society views black people. I often wonder what Korean Nationals teach their children about race considering they live in a homogeneous society.  Do they look at black people as a group or as individuals? 

  This is part of a social experiment. I want to know from Korean people what you think of foreigners, mainly of African descent or dark skinned people. I also would like to know why Korean principals are reluctant to hire these same people as teachers (it probably has something to do with my grammatical errors).  From foreigners, I want to know how do you think you are perceived in Korean Culture and how do you perceive it.