Damn I spend too much time alone on weekends and holidays. I don’t like this

Live blogging this goddamn church service is now possible because of Tumblr’s mobile app.

This is making these two hours a bit easier.

If Jesus is just alright with you, it’s best you don’t read after the jump.
But to those of ‘yall who know the struggle of sitting in a terrible church…

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Two of us are working at the circulation desk.

One of us is studying in front of the circulation computer next to the checkout receipt machine and book scanner. The only one who can check out books.

One of us is sitting four feet away on the opposite corner of the table, hiding behind a large box and apparently painting dozens of plates while surrounded by six huge bottles of paint(?) while watching Hulu on their laptop.

One of us is visibly busy with shit they aren’t supposed to be doing at a goddamn library.

The other one is the only cat at the damn desk that can actually check out the books.

One of us is repeatedly passed over by patrons who approach the other desk clerk to check out books but are immediately sent back across the desk to the one guy who can check out books.

One of us is white.

I feel like I shouldn’t but I can’t help but roll my eyes when I hear about another mission trip to (insert third-world country here). I still see it as nothing but twisted savior tourism.

Go on a mission trip to across the tracks- to that neighborhood you always crack jokes about.

Whenever white folk get talking about “The Third World (ooh)” I get mad standoffish, because “I have fam there, you know that?”

An aunt of a friend of mine started gabbing about her mission trip to Jamaica and “how terrible it is there”, and when I let her know that my people are there, she wasn’t fazed. She just said, “So you know!” And kept going. Rude. I knew her tone, and I didn’t like it.

I’m just saying that you can feel when shit is off. And if you are doing mission trips, they damn well better be local. I find it hard to see anything else as anything but twisted tourism. I mean, if you got to drive across town to get to your church, passing neighborhoods of impoverished peoples, homeless, the sick…and you buy a ticket to Nicaragua to spread you some gospel? Just to come back with some jungle book stories? Come on.

There’s a split between exposing bigotry and taking comfort in the fact that you aren’t a bigot yourself. 

For example, some ass wrote another terribly uninformed sexist rant in my school’s student newspaper. After the piece got picked up by Jezebel.com, Facebook was ablaze with students as well as newspaper staff sharing the story, cracking jokes about how uneducated, foolish, racist, and sexist this guy was.

Some cats were saying, “Oh man, let’s see this guy try to get a job in the future! This idiot is screwed!” They said this without understanding that the idiot hadn’t been fired from his current job at their paper. I finally had to spell it out for some of them that this dolt wouldn’t “eventually” get fired from this paper, let alone anywhere in the future- and in fact, he may seem more appealing to a few future employers because of it. 

Now, to them it should have been apparent that the joke wasn’t on the columnist, but on the students and staff themselves, but many of them found that laughing and ridiculing this bigot was the proper reaction to have.

Many people still don’t understand is that most bigots aren’t ashamed or embarrassed of their bigotry. Most bigots are comfortable people. They don’t truly care for what others say about them. In this particular case, this dolt was a sexist and racist white guy from a largely conservative and white school in a largely conservative and white state. The harm done to this guy’s “reputation” is minimal. 

Those who spent hours sharing, rebloging and laughing this dude’s piece were taking part in this “holier than thou” culture that is distinctly American and liberal; this twisted notion that “putting down” bigots does as much good as fighting or removing them. 

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sad pale lifeless ass
jiggles unnaturally
makes my penis soft

And watching Jamie and Kerry and Jackson applaud it, and other friends of mine loving it…

But I couldn’t enjoy that film. Yes, it was still a story, and Tarantino can tell a damn good story, but it was a story that I wish he never wrote and got so much acclaim for. Acclaim for the wrong reasons. 

So the reasons why those actors I admire applaud that film may not be clear to me; those reasons may be for only them to know. But I know that for me, after sitting in that theater and the months of being bombarded with the terrible press and popularity associated with it, there is no way I can support that film. 

I mean I really wanted to love that film. 
But that changed so quickly once the show began.

I hope this is the last bit I end up writing about this mess. 

My playlist on shuffle just played “Just Once” and went straight to “Through the Fire”? And “Pretty Wings” after that?

Then “Two and Two” by Talib?

Shit is blowing my mind.

How the fuck are you supposed to find people?
Then again, why should I want to find them in the first place?

I’m slowly working on myself. I becoming more patient. I feel it…more self-assurance, more confidence, and with that I’m feeling patience slowly coming on. I’m adjusting. I’m going to be in good shape in four to five months, no doubt. 

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I’m far too self absorbed.

I’m like a sponge.

A really handsome sponge.

Playing well tonight.
I wish playing well got me sex.
Is it even possible to drum one’s way into a vagina?

I’m a small dude. I need to learn to dress like a small dude. I need to learn how to dress. Slim slim jeans are uncomfortable it is a shame that is style

im from the cargo school of pant