Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Don't Look A Gift Horse.....

Okay, we all know the old adage about how you are never going suppose to look a gift horse in the mouth. But what if said gift horse had an amazing gold grill, a diamond studded tongue ring and his breath smelt amazing; like Doritos. Okay, I know you are all wondering where I’m going with this, so here goes….

As you all know, two weeks ago I had dinner with my little circle of friends. Well, today I was scheduled to have lunch with my good friend Edge and then dinner with my lifelong friends, Violet and Marina. Edge and I were scheduled to meet at noon, exchange gifts and had lunch. So, I drive over to Edge’s house, since we have some lunatic driving around in the Metroplex, shooting randomly at people. I get there and am viciously, verbally attacked by his pets; all of which have little dog syndrome. Then we play his Wii, which is hell-a fun. I want one. Then he gave me my Christmas card. When I see it’s a gift card I am already worried. I open it up and sure enough, this bastard has given me a two hundred dollar gift card to my favorite art supply store. I hate having friends with money. (Well, actually it would be more accurate to say, “friend” with money. Singular)

I know, I know. I sound like an ungrateful bastard and I promise you I’m not, but I am modest. I don’t merit a two hundred dollar gift card. Hell, I didn’t even spend that much on my damn self for Christmas, and I love me. If that Tom Tom wouldn’t have been on self you can bet I wouldn’t have bought that bitch. LOL. Anyway, this makes my paltry little American Express Gift card of fifty dollars, look like nothing. I tried to gift the gift card back to his ass, but he wouldn’t accept it. What a jerk, huh? If my to lady friends pull this shit at dinner, I’m gonna have to set it off! I ain’t playing.

Anyway, after lunch, we stopped by Target and I got gifts for two of my little male cousins, who I don’t think are going to get much for Christmas. They‘re mother is useless and I mean useless. Her ass can’t hold down a job and every year, around this time, she waits to bombard the churches to see what she can get for free, so her kids can have a Christmas. And I mean, every year. This is how every woman on that side of my family rolls. Plus, she’s a bit of a bitch. Anyway, her kids are five and nine, and I decided if I can adopt a whole class room of little strangers, the least I could do would be to by their little asses something for Christmas as well. No kid should have to do without on Christmas.

Anyway, this might be my last post, before Christmas, because my little nephew is getting some cool ass toys for Christmas, and Uncle One Man plans on being there to help him play with each and every one of them. So, here is wishing you all of you amazing people a blessed and Merry Christmas. I truly love and care about each and every one of you. I know that sounds strange, but I don’t care. Yall are like family and plus, I share shit with you people that I don’t share with anyone else. Now, that’s love.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace (on Earth)

Monday, December 15, 2008

I Love My Tom Tom

Okay, I am officially done with my Christmas shopping. Lap top for my mom, cash for the siblings, as well as the nieces and nephews, gift cards for a few friends, a Dallas Cowboy afghan for Sgt. Lupe, a customized picture book for my Aunt, Digital Camera, MP3 like DVD player and Tom the Train, Train Set for Manny’s little ass and a Tom Tom for me. That’s right, I know it is not in true spirit of giving, but it was a good deal and I had to get it, cause my ass is always getting lost. Did I tell yall I got lost leaving my cousins house on Thanksgiving? How the hell you gonna get lost leaving the damn place? I mean, I can understand getting lost going, which I did, but leaving….that shit is just ludicrous.

I used it first thing when I got it Wednesday. I opened that bad boy up, turned it on and it was ready to go. I was thinking I was going to have to download some maps and a cd and shit, but nope. It came on and already knew my act location; which was over my mom’s house. (Yall, know I am making a habit of giving my family one of my two days off, right?) So, while I was over my mom I did some basic customizing to my Tom Tom. I programmed in my name and address, so if it gets stolen the thieves will know how to get to my house and return it to me. I programmed in the type of voice I wanted it to speak to me in, a nice little British woman. I programmed it to tell me is I was going over the speed limit. Yeah, the joker knows the speed limit on most major streets and will let me know, with a signal of my choosing, if I go over said limit. (I set it to let me know if I went ten miles over and you know that shit is always going off, right. LOL). I even set it to go off if I pass by a church. I have no idea why I did this, but it asked me if I wanted to and I said yes. Then I just played with some of the little features. That joker will pinpoint any gas stations, hospitals, churches, restaurants, hotels and much more that are closest to me.

The title says it all. I love my Tom Tom. I don’t be listening to it though. For instance, I set it up to guide me to the Italian restaurant that my friends and I went to this weekend, to celebrate the Holiday together. Well, yall know as well as I do that these things don’t always give you the most expeditious route, so I ignore it first bit of instructional advise, because I know the quickest way to get there, I just need it to guide me when I am in the area. It so funny, the little lady is like, “At the next quarter mile, turn left.” I go right, so she tries to get me back on track. “Right exit coming up, at the next quarter mile, turn right.” I keep straight. Eventually it decides that I am too far off to go the route it had originally chosen for me, so it recalibrates a new route. Then I ran into traffic and trying to avoid the shit, I got turned around and had to listen to the bitch, because I got lost. LOL. In my mind I was thinking that my Tom-Tom was like, “So, now yo bitch as wanna listen to me.”

Wouldn’t it be great if they game out with a ghetto version of Tom Tom? They could call the shit June Bug. June Bug would get you there, but he’d get yo ass there with an attitude. I imagine the trip to go like this. “Yo, man, you gonna want to take the next right.” I go straight. “Yo, man, did you not hear my ass say take that right. That’s alright, fuck it. Okay, okay, you gonna have to make this left up ahead to get back on track.” I go straight. “What the fuck! Man, what the fuck you buy me for if you ain’t gonna listen? Damn, I hate when you niggah buy my ass and you probably stole me in the first place. Bitch ass!”

Anyway, I had fun with my friends, took some pictures and stuff. Then decided to go over to my mom’s, which was good, because I got some good shots of Manny and my little brother and sister trimming the tree. How come me and my sister both yelled at Manny because he was putting all the candy canes on one side of the tree? He got over it once he relieved if he broke one he got to eat it.

Anyway, I know I am way behind on my blog reading and I apologize. I will try to catch up tomorrow, on my day off. I will also try to do at least one more post before the Christmas, but just encase I don’t, Merry Christmas, or whatever Holiday you celebrate, to all of you wonderful people all over the world.
-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Spoiled Bastard

My little nephew is so damned spoiled. I'm not talking about the bad spoiled, but spoiled nonetheless. Let's see, in addition to adopting his whole freaking Head Start class for Christmas, his uncle One Man has bought him a digital camera, a portable DVD player, and I still want to get him the train set he wants. Hell, his ass would have gotten the bike he wanted, but he want peddle and his uncle don't buy shit his ass want actually ride. His mom has already bought him a read drum set (the boy is three years old).
I sometimes wonder if I should feel guilty about the part I have played in his spoiled-ness. But, he really is not the ass he can be when we are one on one, but around his mommy and his Aunt Dot, he is a whinny little annoyance, that drives his Uncle One Man insane. I honestly can not be around him, sometimes, when these two women are in his presence. And I don't understand why he sometimes acts the fool around his mom, because he has a spanking mom, who will tear that ass up. I, however, can get away with say, "Manny, you know we don't do that" to get him to straighten up. I don't understand that at all.
I love my nephew, you all know that. He owns my heart and only has to share it with his Granny. These are the only two people in the world that I would give the world and lay down my life for. What he really wants is a puppy and I really want to be the one to get him one, but I tell him mom that it is not practical. There is no one at that house that can care for a puppy the way it needs to be cared for. This is one of the reasons I am seriously looking into finding a nice big house that I can move my family into, with me. That way I can be there for both my mom and my nephew and I can buy that new puppy that I need and that Manny can love.
Stay tune, because I really plan on blogging more about my grand scheme for me and my family to live under one roof. I'm going to share the plan and I'm gonna need some serious input from on blog family on this one.
-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Monday, December 1, 2008

A Hamster Called Rhino

Okay, I took my nephew to see Bolt this past Sunday and I gotta say it was a pretty good movie. Admittedly I feel asleep within the first ten minutes of the movie, so I have no idea of how Bolt got separated from Penny, nor do I know how he met his cat companion. Of course, how can you blame me, Manny had my ass up to well past 1. It might fault, because I keep replaying that damn movie, Ice Age, at his request. As soon as I put it on something I wanted to watch, his little ass conked right the fuck out. An then, true to form, he went from being on one side of the bed to being in the dead center, and me about to fall on the floor. It wasn’t until around 6 that I wised up and took myself into another room.
Anyway, by the time I woke up Bolt was in a trailer park and about to encounter the funniest addition to the movie; Rhino the Hamster.

Whoever wrote Rhino into the movie was a genius. That damn hamster had me cracking up. You could hear my laugh throughout the theater. He stole every scene and by the end of it I was wondering when Disney was going to give Rhino his own spin off movie. That damn rodent had me cracking up every step of the way and stole the entire movie. Bolt? Bolt, who? Where the hell is Rhino?

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Weekend at Manny (kind of)

Yes, Yes, Yes, that is Manny, as he sits on the floor, eating his breakfast of apple slices, peaches and cream oatmeal and orange juice (he will also get a Strawberry Go-Gart) and forces me to endure yet another showing of “Elephant”. For does of you who don’t know, Elephant is Ice Age, and although I love the Ice Age Movie and am looking forward to 3, coming out in 2009; enough is enough already!

Quick background story on how I ended up with little bit for the week end. Well, it’s not actually quick, but I will try to make it as short as possible. Believe it our not it all stems from when I went to pick up Manny to see Madagascar 2, at Head Start. I went in uniform, because his teacher requested that I come out and speak with the children about stranger danger. Yeah, speak to three, four and five years olds about stranger danger. I know, I know, it is never to early to start teaching stranger, but did I really have to be in uniform to do it?

So, I show up around 2:15 to pick him up and his class is taking a nap. Who takes a nap at two in the afternoon, besides me I mean. I figured that they’d be done taking their nap by two. Anyway, the instructor was at lunch and there was an assistant watching the napping ankle biters. I find Manny’s sleeping figure and pick him up off his mat. The first thing that comes out of his mind, as he is being lifted off the floor is; “I don’t want to.” Is that cool. I love my little nephews survival instinct. We grab his backpack (which turned out not to be his) and jacket and was headed out when we encounter his instructor. Apparently the word went out around the building that a police officer was in the house, and since she new I was coming she managed to put tow and two together.

We spoke for about thirty minutes and then she suckered me by asking if I new any of my officers friends that would be interested in adopting one of the classes for Christmas. I didn’t want to tell her that I don’t have any officer friends, so I just volunteered to adopt Manny’s class.

“What does adopting a class consist of?” I ask.

“You just have to buy a toy for each of the kids.”

“Oh, well how many kids are there in Manny’s class?”


In my head I was like. what the fuck! But it there was not turning back, I had already committed myself. Note to self. Next time, before you commit yourself to buy toys for a class room full of kids, ask how many kids are in said class first.

Which brings up to this weekend. My little and big sister were in my area of town, to do some Christmas shopping, and called me to see if I wanted to go with them. Since I’d taken, yet another day off, I said yes. Plus, I wanted them to see the toys I got for the little rug rats, which consisted of remote control cars, dolls, and animated robots. Very cool stuff, that I got a Walgreen, at a very reasonable price. Plus, the manager gave me his employee discount, when he found out the reason behind the purchase. How cool was that?

Anyway, they come in the house and I take them to the bedroom closet, where I have the gifts stored. We try to keep Manny out, but that didn’t work, as I showed them the gifts. He didn’t get a good look at the toys, but he knew there were toys and that was enough. So, once we returned from the mall and they were dropping me back off he told his Mommy that he wanted to stay with Uncle One Man. I figured what the heck, I always say no, I needed to say yes.
As soon as we get into the house that little bastard makes a bee line to the closet of toys and ask, “Can I play with your toys.” The little monster thought he was slick. But the answer was no, so I think the continuous viewing of Ice Age is his way of punishing me. LOL

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Black Friday

Okay, another Thanksgiving has come and gone and I had a wonderful time with my family. Eating, mingling, football, Rummikub…..Great. No, alcohol no Marijuana. Even better. And NO DRAMA! Priceless.

Yeap, in my family; no drama. Hard to believe, huh. Sorry to let you down, dwashington. Lol
Now comes the best part of the year for me. No more running from Christmas music. Yeah, you heard me right. I hate when Christmas music is played before Thanksgiving. I is just wrong. So I try to avoid it at every turn. However, now it will be nothing but Christmas music for me, now until December 25, I will have Christmas music coming out my ass. Yeap, by the time the actually day gets here I will have had my fill of Christmas music until the next year. LOL
Anyway, I hope you all had the best of Thanksgivings. Did I say I was thankful for my Blog family? Because I am.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Happy Turkey Jive Thanksgiving!

Okay, here is how it went. The maid came thirty minutes later and it took her a little over four hours and she still didn’t finish everything, but she charged me the same price so I didn’t complain. Besides, I knew her ass was not going to able to finish cleaning my house, with all the things she had to do, in eight hours, let alone four. Hell, it take me about a week just to take care of the main sections of the place and I know where everything goes. I don’t think I’ll be using them again though.

Anyway, once she showed up I went on my merry way. Hung out a Bed Bath and Beyond, Borders Books, Best Buy. Then I went to visit my mom. This woman is amazing. One good hand she cooked Turkey, dressing, mac and cheese, one of those weird ambrosia salads, three cakes, a pie, dressing and I forget what else. She also told me how much my Aunt S spent on the ham….back story in five, four, three, two, one. …

Okay, for the last two years I have been in charge of bringing the ham to Thanksgiving dinner and I have been hooking that bitch up too. LOL. This year my Aunt S decided she wanted me to go in half on a Honey baked ham with her. Now keep in mind my Aunt S has caviar test, so I knew she was going to buy some expensive ass ham. So, true to form, my mom let’s me know that Aunt S bought a sixty dollar ham. The “big” one. This better be one big ass ham. But I am not going to complain. I’m just gonna give her my thirty dollars and be about it.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, so while you are out and about eating and enjoying the family (for as long as you can stomach them), be safe and remember to truly be thankful. We are truly blessed!

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

As for you, dwashington, I am not expecting any drama on Thanksgiving, but I can understand why you would think there would be. However, I will keep you posted. You never know. There was much drama last year, that you boy was smack dab in the middle of. I’m not sure I shared it though, since I came out looking bad in the story. LOL

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

I am so pissed off right now. Yes, this is my second post today! I went out to clean my damn car, the inside at any rate; and I noticed that someone has taken the sticker off my registration receipt. Yes, you heard me right. I am like to think of myself as a responsible brother. Messy, yes, but responsible as hell. So, I try not to do anything last minute, because if I do I will forget to do it all together. So, when it came time to renew my registration sticker I did it immediately. Literally a month a head of time. When the sticker came in the mail I left it in my car, because no one rides in my car but me and my little nephew, at times. That’s it.

Well recently I have been being nice and switching out cars with my niece and little sister. They have sports utility vehicles and it just makes it easier for me when it comes to my mom’s wheel chair. Mainly because I keep my truck so packed full of shit, I don’t want to move it to make room for the chair. I get it…that’s my bad. However, when I let you take possession of my car I expect you to take care of the bitch and not to go rambling through shit and I definitely don’t expect you to steal from me.

You see where I am going with this? Yeah, as I am cleaning out my car, tossing papers and shit, I run across the Registration receipt that they adhered the registration sticker on, but no registration sticker. I sit there and look at it and I am thinking; “I don’t remember putting that on my car.” So, I walk over to the front of my car and sure enough the old sticker is still there (It expires the end of this month). So, I send out a text to little brother, little sister and niece asking if they remember seeing the sticker. I am not make yet, because I am keeping an open mind, as I continue to clean out my fucking car. Eventually I get three texts back saying no, in various ways, but the overall concessions is that no one has seen it. Well, the damn thing didn’t up and fly away, so I sent out this text to all parties.

“Everyone said no, so here is my problem. I have the receipt with no sticker adhered to it. Yall are the only ones that have let drive my car. Please ask your friends because it will cost me another seventy five dollars to replace the damn thing.”

Keep in mind that I don’t curse around my family, not even the little curse word like damn, so I threw that in there to let them know I was pissed off. Low and behold I get a phone call from my niece saying that this girl she use to hang around with might have taken it. Of course, she doesn’t hang around with the bitch any more because she found out that the bitch steals. Yeah, that makes me feel good. “Why is your friend going through my stuff, Stacy. Better yet, why are you allowing her to go through the things in my car?” Of course she has no good answer for me, but she knows that the friend of this friend needed a registration for HER car. What the fuck!

I am so fucking pissed out right now. I can‘t stand to be stolen from! This is why I don‘t allow my family to use my shit and this is why I am reluctant to ask them to house sit when I am out of town. And this is why I no longer host on the Holidays. I can‘t trust their asses to do the right thing. Don‘t get me wrong. I trust my little brother and sister, I already figured that Stacy had something to do with the shit, but they ass well allow the bad element into the fucking equation.
I am hella pissed right not. Just when I am about to pry open my wallet and let loose with the change to get my house professional cleaned, I have to put up with this shit! This is one of the main reasons I am so stand offish to their damn friends and why I hate that they allow them into my mother house.

Maid to Order

I did. I actually did it. I can’t believe that I did it and I hope I don’t regret it. We’ll know by tomorrow, the day before Thanksgiving.

Sunday, I went out on a blind date. I don’t want to talk about it. However, while en route to said date I saw this chick driving a car advertising a maid service. I immediately took out my cell phone and dialed the number on the side of the car. Of course the place was closed so I left a detailed message. Well, someone called me back today. Actually she called my ass back several times. I missed the first four calls because I was sleep. And you know why I was sleep? Because I woke up at seven in the morning with my mind set on cleaning my house from top to bottom. Yeah, it didn’t work out that way. What I ended up doing was eating a bowl of cereal and taking my happy ass back to sleep.

Anyway, it was the fifth call that I decided to wake up for and the lady was very nice. She asked me what kind of cleaning I was looking for and went on to describe the two packages. I took the second one for $97.37. With that package they clean the house, cobwebs, oven , icebox, laundry, floors, windows, toilets, sinks, dishes, I think they will even wipe my ass, but I neglected to ass. I get all that for two hours, twenty five dollars for each additional hour. Now, since I am an Oscar Madison type I tried to warn the woman that she didn’t know what she was getting her maids into, but she said they were use to cleaning bachelor pads. Whatever. I’m going to let them take a stab out of it and then make a decision if I am going to continue to use them on a bi-weekly or monthly basis. I’m thinking monthly.

So, what do you think? Does that sound like a good price? I’ve never had a maid before. I always clean my own house. You know….sometimes. Of course a bi-yearly cleaning is never a good thing. Oh, oh, and did I say that they supply all of the cleaning materials? Cause they do!
Oh, well, now that I don’t have a house to worry about, I think I’m going to go outside and clean my car. I lost my damn check book, which you would think would be hard to do when you consider it is the size of a three ring binder, and I think it is in my car someone. Yeah, my car is mess as well. I need to work on my cleaning skills.

-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Oh, and before I go, on last question. Are you suppose to tip a maid? This is my first time, so I don't know. I know you tip a prostitute, if she does a good job, but maids are providing a whole other type of service.

Monday, November 24, 2008


Er, why are so many....um, men on Youtube recreating this damn video? And is that his dick or his belly button? Either way...scary.

I Miss Roscoe

I truly miss my dog, Roscoe. I try not to think about it but the reality is that not a day goes by that I don’t think of that damn dog. It’s virtually impossible not to think about him, because he was apart of my everyday life. Anytime I walked into the living area he sensed my presenses and was at the back door. He knew the sound of my engine, with both the Avalanche and the Nissan, and would already be running at the gate as I drove up the alley. He was always happy to see me.

Roscoe was a smart ass dog too. Did you know that I managed to house break him in three days. Seriously, three days. He was the first dog that I ever took time out to teach to sit, stay, walk by my side, come when I actually called. I’m a bit of an Oscar Mattison so it was easier to teach him not to fuck with my shit then it was to teach me to pick up after myself. He didn’t even tear up the trash. I could leave him in the house, when a full trash can and he would not touch it. Even if I left something tempting in it.

I hate the fact that I was not there for him during the moment that he needed me the most. I hate the fact that he died alone. I loved my puppy.

Every now and again I feel like I should get a new dog, but I’m not sure that I’m ready. If I did get another one I would want to get another Rottweiler. I even have the name set aside for him. No, it’s not Obama. I don’t need people wondering if my dog is Muslim and it preventing him from running for president of the National Kennel Club. Nope, I’d name my new dog Othello. How cool is that? But, no, I can’t replace Roscoe and I don’t think I’m ready to let another dog into my heart.

Plus, I am still contemplating paying off this damn house in two years. I was going to do it this year, but since I have a lot of things planned for next year, if God says the same. For example, Manny turns four in June and I want to start our tradition of an annual trek to Disney Land. Plus, since I took the older syblims to New York two years ago for their birthdays. Next year I want to take the twins. We would have done it this year, but Duce didn’t have a job and he needs to be able to pay for his own shit while out there. So, I’m going to wait until January 2010 to pay this bad boy off. Wish me luck. Maybe by then I’ll be ready to bring a new puppy into my life.
For now, I am truly alone.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Shane Mercado Does Beyonce's

It’s amazing. Homeboy is totally in sync with this chorography. I ain’t mad at him; the guy has much talent. I am mad that he still lives at home with his mom and had to lock his bedroom door while he taped the version of this that ended up on you tube. If you listen carefully, on that one, you can hear his mother yell, “Shane, you better not be dancing to another fucking Beyonnce video!”

He probably got laid after this video. I bet he has an enlarged cliterous too. LOL! Yeah, that was just wrong, but I couldn’t resist.

But seriously, the man is hella talented. The fact that he was able to teach himself all those steps is amazing to me. It also tells me that his ass doesn't have a job!

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

I'm So Confused!

First of all this bastard…bitch…bastard….bitch…bast….oh forget it…This B word knew damn well that they were going to get publicity when they said that his as was pregnant! Stop playing. (Homeboy made that statement in another clip, about being shock at the amount of publicity they were getting.)

Still, I am so confused and I thought I was getting it, up until today. Hell, I was neither shocked nor disturbed by the fact that he was pregnant, once I realized that he was born a she. Hell, I took biology, I know that a woman can get pregnant if all her factory parts work correctly. Nor was I shocked when I found out that he was pregnant again. Although if you were looking at the View when Barbara Walters made the announcement….The whole study audience let out a collective gasp. You would have thought she’d said the dude was pregnant with a litter of kittens. Seriously. Hell, I was offended.

However, this comment on Larry King truly shocked my ass. Up until today I was not the least bit concerned with how these two individuals got their booty on. Hell, what two consented adults due in the privacy of their own house, motel room, whatever, is their own business. I honestly don’t understand why people getting up perturbed about what other people do with their private parts. That being said….ewwww! I’m sorry. Your boy is as open minded as they come, except when I am being racist or bigoted, but come on. An enlarged cliterous? Really? That shit just sounds painful. And just how enlarged is your citreous that you can have intercourse with it, as if it was a penis? It makes you wonder if it is uncomfortable for him to wear pants.

Seriously, is it just me, because that statement kind of freaked my ass out a little bit. I mean, I thought I knew what a cliterous was and what it looked like and what it’s function was, but I gotta tell you; my ass went on a cliterous hunt. I was all up in Google, blowing up pictures of cliterouses and shit. Maybe I had a misunderstanding of what I was looking for, after all, I don’t own one myself, although there is this sex shop…..

Hell, to me this statement was the equivalent to me saying, “Hey, baby, although my penis no longer works we can still have intercourse using my enlarged sphincter muscles, I know. I know. That’s just ignorance on my part, but still. A enlarged cliterous? And then they looked at Larry King’s ass like he was insane for not knowing that they had sexual intercourse with homeboy’s enlarged female genitalia. And then, so funny, Larry King’s ass was like, “Uh, I didn’t know that.” WHO THE HELL DID? LOL.

-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Monday, November 17, 2008

I Like to Move It, Move it

Last week I took my nephew to see Madagascar 2, which is really not appropriate for children, I might add. It is funny though, so I can make allowances. Plus, at three, a lot of it went over Manny’s head. However, don’t get it twisted, because I know how intuitive (or should I say impressionable) children are, especially this little boy.

Did I ever tell you good people the story of when Manny was about two years old and I noticed that he had a stuttering problem? Yeah? Oh, well, some of you might not remember it and I don’t recall telling it so I’m gonna recant it. When Manny was about two years old and really learning to put words together I was over to the house feeding him. I was trying to have what passes for a conversation with my little nephew and I noticed that he had developed a stuttering problem. I mean it was a bad problem too. When you asked him something, his eyes would roll back and he would struggle to get the words out.

Well, as luck would have it, I’d had a class on child abuse and learned how sometimes stuttering can be triggered by a traumatic event. Now, since I spent enough time with my nephew to know that this was not his everyday speech pattern, I realized that something had to be going on. So, I confronted my little sister and asked her what traumatic event had befallen my little nephew that was causing him to stutter. She told me nothing. I was like, No, not nothing because he didn’t use to stutter and now he does. What occurred within the week or so since last I saw him that would cause him to stutter?

She stood by the fact that there was no event that had occurred that would traumatize my nephew and cause him to be stuttering like he was. So, I let it go. After all, she was around her son pretty much 24/7 and knew him better than I did. Well, a couple of hours passed by and my sister comes to me with the revelation on where Manny had learned to stutter.

You see, when Manny was at this age his mom use to work in a barbershop. Being a single mom and not always having someone to leave her son with, she would oft times take Manny to work with her. She told me that there was one occasion that the shop was watching The Kings of Comedy and she caught Manny also paying close attention to the comedy styling of Bernie Mac. It had not dawned on him, until that exact moment that this was the reason why he was stuttering. It was funny too, because as I watched him I could actually see him mimicking Bernie Mac’s ever mannerism in that part of his comedy routine. It was still scary and I was afraid that he would have allowed that to become a permanent part of the way he spoke. However, once mommy realized that was the cause of the stuttering she nipped that shit in the bud. She made him cut that shit out and popped his little tail when he did it. Not exact Parenting 101, but it worked. LOL

Anyway, Manny, my Mom and Me went to see Madagascar 2 last week, but I think I enjoyed it more than both of them. Not saying that Manny didn’t enjoy it, but while we were waiting for the movie to start they showed the preview for Bolt and he decided that that was the movie he wanted to see. Yeah, you ain’t at home little man. Get over yourself.

Once the movie started, Manny sat in his chair, like a big boy, eating popcorn and watching the film. Now, I am not sure at what point he decided that it would be more comfortable to sit on Uncle One Man’s lap. But during the movie, he politely climbed up in my lap, kicked back, like I was his on private lounge chair, ate his popcorn and enjoyed the rest of the movie.

Now, I know some of you out there are thinking; “Aw, what a precious moment.” Whatever. I took it as his little ass saying that Uncle One Man is better cushioned than the seats in the theater. I really need to get on an exercise program, yall.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Ieshia, Southern Gal, Running Mom, what did you little ones think of the movie. Ieshia and Southern Gal, I know your little men are around the same age as Manny.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Party Time

Yesterday we celebrate the siblings birthdays. Yes, every one of my siblings were born in the month of November. Both my older sisters and the twins. I was the odd one out. Middle child, born in August.

I had a blast at the party. My mommy did an outstanding job. This was all her idea. However, I gotta say, it didn’t start off all that great. I took my mom to purchase the food and the birthday cakes. Mom decided on hero sandwiches and we ordered one sheet cake and four little individual cakes with each person’s name on them. I had made arrangements for my niece to pick up the cakes, since they lived down the street from the Wal-Mart, the day we ordered them. Surprise, surprise, I get a phone call from my mommy, on Friday, telling me that she needs me to go pick up the cakes because my niece want be able to. Well, that’s find, I always set up myself up to be the contingency plan. Problem was, when I go to pick up the cakes there are no cakes to be found. Where are the cakes? The ladies behind the counter are looking all over and I guess I appeared to be a bit annoyed because one apologies for upsetting me. I had to tell her I wasn’t upset at all. Anyway, they are just about to read do all these damn cakes, as I wait, when it dawns on me to call my niece to see if she picked up the cakes. Sure enough, she had. I am pissed off. Not with my niece, because she did what I asked her to do, but with my mom. Her ass is always trying to do too much and then always gets the shit backwards. Yall know I love my mom, but damn….It turned out that she hadn’t even asked my niece if she was going to be able to go and pick up the cakes. She’d just assumed that she wouldn’t be able to because she was also helping to prepare a wedding shower that day. It was actually my fault. I know my mom, I should have followed up to confirm if she know what she was talking about.

Anyway, I head over to the house where my mom and my two other nieces are already there, preparing sandwiches and decorating the house. They did a really good job. Absolutely no drama, which is always a good thing. The party starts a 5pm, and all the guest and the twins are there for the festivities. Older sister number one is not there yet, because has not left the shower that she was helping to throw for her sister-in-laws upcoming wedding. And older sister number two is not there because her my nephew, her youngest, has been arrested for his warrants and she has to go get his ass out. Now yall know my motto…Let their grown asses sit it out. PAY YOUR DAMN TICKETS!

Once everyone is there we eat, laugh, talk and play games. Spades, Dominoes and Rummikub. Here comes the drama. Yes, while mom, aunt, older sister number one and myself were playing Rummikub in the kitchen, one of my young sibling’s friends comes in and fixes herself some punch. When she exit the kitchen, I get up to fix myself some punch. How come just as I walk over to the spot where she’d just left I get the distinct aroma of reefer? Yes, folks, it was as if she’d passed gas and left a odor of marijuana behind. So, of course I am just a little pissed and I am debating if I should go see what exactly is going on outside and in the other parts of the house. After all, not only is the shit disrespectful to my mom, but we have kids at this party. So you know what I did, right? I charged their asses up and then I went outside, pulled my little brother to the side. I don’t care if his ass is thirty, and told him very nicely that he needs to make it known to his friends that they can’t be doing that shit around his mother or his law enforcement brother.

Other than that, the party was a ball and a good time was had by all. Towards the end it was just me, the twins, a guys the twins went grew up with and my little brother’s forty-three year old lover (who was drunk off her ass, I might ass). Now, I have no idea how her ass got so hammered, because there was not alcohol at this party. She eventually passed out on the sofa, leaving the rest of us to play spades and talk about the roles of black people in the world, regardless of the fact that we have a black president elect. We also song the theme songs to every sit-com known the man, which was hilarious in it’s own right. It was 3:15 in the morning, when I finally left and home girl was still out cold on my mom’s sofa.

Now, answer me this. What kind of marriage do you have where one of you can be out past three and it not be a problem? Trust me. It would be a problem for me.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Something New

Okay, things that annoy me in the phone crazy world. First I hate it when you accidentally call the wrong number and no one answer. Now, my problem is not really with someone not answering the phone when they don’t recognize the number. However, I hate it when they call back and when you answer the first word out of their mouth are; “Who this?” Motherfucker, whose THIS? Seriously, don’t call my number and ask who I am. If you wanted to know who it was you should have answered the damn phone when I called. If you didn’t know who I was when I called you the first time and I didn’t leave a message, then it probably a good chance it was a misdial and I don’t want to talk your ass. Let that shit slide.

I also hate it when does damn telemarketers call you and then put you on hold for a live person. Or worst, when they call you and play like they know who you are, thus catching you off guard so they can try to sale you something. Every now and again they might slipping, but not often. After all, it is so easy to tell when it is a telemarketer is on the other end of the line, because when you answer the phone there is always a pause on the other end, before the person response. By the time they answer they get a click. Stop trying to talk to me!

I told you all of that to lead up to the phone call I made on my cell phone,, en route to work last night. You see, back in July this young lady was involved in an accident where she had to swerve to prevent getting hit by a vehicle headed in the other direction. At least that was the story that she gave me a couple of weeks back, when I spoke to her at work. Apparently, by swerving to avoid being hit by this on coming vehicle she drove her car into a pole, causing injury to herself and the friend that were in the car with her. Well, now her friend are suing her for their medical bills and goodness knows what else.

The reason for her phone call to me, once again two weeks back, was to tell me that one of my officers had completed the accident report wrong and it needed to be changed so that her friends would not sue her. I tried to explain to her that we don’t redo accident reports from such a long time ago and even if we did, it would not prevent her friends for suing her. Hell, we live in a litigious society. Next time get some insurance that covers you and your passengers. Anyway, we go back and forth as she tells me all the things that my officer did and did not do. I told her I appreciated what she was saying, but I need to talk to my officer and get back to her.

Okay, I admit that after doing all my research, which included talking to the officers that worked the accident and then contacting an actual accident investigator to find out our policy on adding supplements to accident reports, I found out that I was completely right and thus I didn’t feel the need the call this argumentative woman back to explain what I had already explain to her in our initial conversation. Okay, yeah, that was my bad. I admit to being obligated to calling her back if I said that I would. Sue me.

So, after not hearing from me she called and spoke to my lieutenant, who told her pretty much the exact same thing I had, but he asked me to call her back and explain it to her once more. What the fuck? (This was the day before yesterday, and it was past midnight so I decided that I would call her on my way to work yesterday, at a more decent hours).

So, and it took me a hell of a long time to get to this, while driving to work I give the young lady a call on my cell phone (yeah, I hate it when people talk on the cell phone while driving too.) The phone goes directly to the chicks voice male, so I leave a message telling her who I was, why I was calling and asking her to call me at the station when she gets this message. I even gave her my name and station phone number twice.

While I am leaving this message I hear the little tone that let’s me know that someone has just sent me a text message. So, after hanging up I look and sure enough, I have a new text message. I check to see who it is from and it simply shows a phone number. I go on to read the message; “Who this?” Who this? I am puzzled for a second and then I realize that the text came from the exact person that I had just called. What the fuck? Instead of answering the damn phone, she chooses to send my ass a text to see who it is. Bitch, we ain’t friends. Answer the damn phone. Better yet, check your damn messages and find out who the hell it is. And get this. The heifer never did call my ass back. At work or on my cell phone. WHAT THE FUCK!

Anyway, that was new to me. Just thought I’d share.

-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Friday, November 14, 2008

I Tried Not To.....

Okay, I know I have not posted in a while, but I couldn’t let this one slide. Today they called and woke my ass up to report to City Court. City Court is where you go for simple Class C traffic violations. They called me at nine to be there at 9:30am. Yeah, they don’t give you a chance to wipe your ass, let alone brush your teeth.

Anyway, as I am walking into the court building and heading up the various sets of stairs, to sign in for court, I run into this family of seven. We have mother, father, and the five stair step kids. Yall do know what stair step kids are, right? That’s when the kids born so close together that their difference in height is only a matter of inches. I kid you not, people. The kids had to be ages three, four, five, six and the little four to five month old strapped to his or her mother’s chest. I’m not joking about the ages either, folks. I mean homeboy was back up into mommy’s goodies before the stitches had time to heal.

So, I was walking up my first set of stairs when I run into the little clan, and they walking in a horizontal line, so I have to hug the wall to get by them (not really, but close). As I was walking up the second set of stairs I hear this thumping sound. “Clunk-ity, Clunk, Thump, Clump, Thump, Stud.” So, I run over to look over the banister when I see the four year old sprawled out on the floor, looking up at his parents. I got to give the little man credit though. He manned up and didn’t cry or anything. You have thought this kind of thing happened everyday, especially since the parents didn’t seem to react at all.

But that’s not what this post is about. The post is about the fact that once I realized the kid was alright, I had to fight to urge to laugh. I mean I literally had to bit my lip to suppress a smile, because that shit was too funny. And yes, I know that it is sick to want to laugh when someone falls down and potentially hurt themselves, but I can’t help it. Anytime someone falls down I find that shit extremely funny. I don’t care the race, gender or age. That shit is just funny to me. It’s a sickness, but it’s not my fault. I was brought up on Slap Stick humor. The Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy, and all those other black and white comedy geniuses use to crack my ass up.

I gotta say, it’s a bit hypocritical as well. Seeing as that I am the first to wanna fight when if I fall down and someone laughs.

-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Obama Takes It!

When my mom called to tell me that Obama had taken the election I told her that I was going to wait until the last ballot had been tallied. Then I turned the television back on the news and saw McCain give up the ghost, which was his Presidential hopes. And not only did Obama win, but he whooped that ass. I gotta admit that I felt a little bit sorry for McCain. He had to be thinking, “What if…”

You know, I am way behind on my blog readings, but I guess I don’t have to check on my fellow bloggers to see what they will be talking about tomorrow, huh. Anyway, I choose this song because it fit’s the mood and makes me wanna cry all at the same time.

I am so proud of Americans that they were able to put down their racist beliefs and take a chance on something new. But it ain’t over people Now we gotta pray even harder that they allow him not only make it to the Inaugural Ball, but give him his a shot at four years. I hope he doesn’t have to become a martyr to make a difference.

Make no mistake people. God is good. All the time.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Miracles and Movies

First things first. The sky opened up today, the sun shown a little brighter and all of the birds sung in harmony. Oh, and I think Hell might have froze over a little bit, but I’m still unclear on that. That’s right. My brother started work yesterday. Can you believe that. The man has an actual job! I don’t know what it is, or how much it pays and I don’t care. I’m just glad the boy is working! What about benefits, you ask. The benefit is that he starts earning his own money.

Okay, so today, after I found out that my little brother was working, I took my mom to early vote and then we met my two sisters and nephew at the movies. We went to see the Secret Life of Bees. It goes without saying that my nephew wasn’t interested in the movie and I gotta say, I didn’t care for it much my damn self. That’s right, I said it…I did not like the movie, The Secret Lives of Bees! I thought it sucked like a Hover vacuum and I want those few hours of my life back. I seriously almost walked out on it, but I wanted to see how they were going to end it.

My mom and sisters enjoyed it, so maybe I am being too tough on the movie because I read the book. That’s what my older sister said, anyway. And she is probably at least partially right. I was, after all, finding myself comparing it with the book, but I have seen plenty of movies that were based on movies and enjoyed them. The Firm. The Color Purple. The Women of Brewster Place. The Last Unicorn. Yes, The Last Unicorn. Don’t judge me, damn it. Still, I just was not feeling this movie. I just don’t think they did a good job. Even the parts that should have touched me, like May’s (I want say what happened), didn’t.

I think they changed around too many of the significant moments, when they should have stayed more true to the original outline of the book. I mean, I have no problem with people making changes for the screen play, but let those changes add to, not take away from the plot of the movie and the character’s development. Case in point, the reason why Rosaline got beat down and how Lilly actually managed to get her out of the hospital. Why the little boy actually end up in jail. I could name a lot, but those are some of the ones that stood out for me.

And the casting was done poorly. I think that Alicia Keyes, Dakota Fanny and the chick that played May were good in their roles and appropriately cast, but Queen Latifia and Jennifer Hudson did not fit their parts at all. First of all, August should have been an older and thinner woman. Plus, I think that the Queen should have played the part a little less masculine. She just didn‘t come off as a naturally mother type. Then there was Jennifer Hudson’s character. This was not Ms. Hudson’s shinning moment on the big screen. Plus, the character should have been an older, more heavy set woman. She didn’t even make up believe that she chew snuff. They should have made that part more clear. Hell, If I hadn’t read the book I would have just thought her spit was dirty. And what the hell was a Obama/Biden campaign poster doing in the movie? That was just going too far.

Anyway, that is my review of the movie. Hated it! But don’t take my word for it. Like I said, my sisters and mom liked it. However, as for Manny and Me. We be waiting to peep Madagascar 2.
That’s right, baby.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

I am overjoyed that my little brother got a job. But I gotta admit that I miss seeing his dumb ass.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Family, Gotta Love 'em

I am having so much fun hanging out with my family on my days off. This week I took Monday off so that I could have two good days with my family. I had scheduled to take my mom to the movies to see the Secret Life of Bees, but we had to reschedule for next Tuesday, so one of my other sisters can accompany us. We went to see Eagle Eye instead. It was a toss up between Eagle Eye and Lake View Terrace, but there was a brother outside the theater who said he thought we’d enjoy Eagle Eye better, so we went with his recommendation. My mom liked it, I thought it was okay. Next week, The Secret Life of Bees.

While going to the movies my mom clued me in on all the new drama going on in the family. Well, not exactly new. Just new to me, since I am always the last the know. It would seem that my eldest, big sister, the one who I wouldn’t loan the money too, is having trouble with her common law hubby of over twenty years. (Yeah, what else is new.) Well, apparently he is having an affair, that big sis knows about, and refuses to stop. This has lead big sis into contemplating leaving the bastard. My mom told my sister not to let anyone drive her away from her house. If anyone leaves it should be him. Whatever. I told my mom that I didn’t understand how it was that big sis could be casting stones when she, herself, has been cheating on the man for years. My mom’s answer to that was that big sis had been doing better and cutting back. LOL. I love my mom. She’s got her children’s backs.

Anyway, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that the bastard was having an affair (not that this use of bastard is not meant with love), but what my mom told me next kind of blew me away. The person that the bastard is having an affair with is his cousin. Now I don’t know if it is a first, second or third cousin and I don’t care. It is his cousin. Yall know that shit is just nasty. And it gets better. The apparently this affair has been going on for longer than I’ve been a police officer and I’ve been a cop for a little over ten years now. The kicker is that this affair is known by his mother, who I am told condones the affair and has let it take place in her house. This is a woman that I always thought my sister was close too, but apparently not as close as I thought. Oh, oh, and get this. Now his mother is about to lose her house to bankruptcy and they are also fighting about the possibility of her coming to live with them if this happens. (Just for the record, they already live right down the block from his mother to begin with. Literally less than a block away.)

Then I learnt more about my little brother’s affair with forty-one year old married woman. I am still trying to understand this one and am very disappointed in my little brother. My mom finally told me that she was going to kick my little brother out over this affair, because she didn’t raise him this way, but then she prayed about it and decided better of that decision. She is hoping that he will come to his senses. Well, the woman came over while I was there and I was able to confirm that it was the chick he was locked up in his bedroom with the night I brought over Little Leroy. I had to let my mom know that this woman is up in her house at night time as well. I had to ask my little sister if the woman had a job, because I don’t see how she is able to be over to the house during the daytime and night time hours. And how dumb is this chicks husband. I watched The Family That Preys and thought that there was no way that a husband could be that clueless of his wife’s infidelity, but I stand corrected. I was told that the man has been over to the house to help fix his son, ex-twenty-three year old cuddy buddy to my little sister. So, he is definitely aware of my family’s involvement in his family’s life.

Now, get this. My sister said that the woman tries to cook for the family. And yesterday, while I was over, they, meaning my little brother, the MLF (Mother’s we’d Like to Fuck), and her twenty-three year old son, was over cleaning up the backyard. I am talking racking up leaves, picking up debris, the works. Then they sat back there and smoked and drunk alcohol (something that we don’t normally do in my family). An wonders of all wonders. My big sis that I was talking about came over and joined them. Well, big sis, is ghetto hood and she will turn on your ass in a minute. It was around eight o’clock, and I was in the family room with little sis, when I heard yelling. I don’t know what was said, but the woman eventually went home. LOL.

I told little sis it was her fault for bringing that mess into the family. I jokingly asked her if she thought it was incest to be dating the son of her twin brother’s forty-one year old mistress. She let me know that she was not apart of that mess and was trying to get little brother out of it. She and I are still dumb founded by the fact that the twenty-three year old is not only okay with, but friends with the man his mother is cheating on his father with. WTF.

I still don’t know what she sees in my little brother. He will turn thirty on the third of November. And although he has a college degree, he ain’t doing shit with it. And, yesterday I had to tell his damn pant up from under his ass cheeks and remind him that he was about to be thirty and too old to be wearing his clothes like that.

Anyway, I still had fun. At around nine that night we finally reached an understanding to the game I bought over for us to play. Rummikub. It was hella fun and my little brother came in and played with me and mom. The little bastard won too. He makes me sick. He just has a knack for games. Drives me crazy. But I laughed so much. My mom thinks that she should get forever to play, but as soon as it was little brother’s time she was like, hurry up! It is so funny. And big sister came in to watch and instigate. It is like this with any game we play, other than spades or dominos.

I love my family. They even made me forget the drama going on at work, if only for a moment and time. I am going over there again today. My mom is biting on the bit for another game of Rummikub. I love her, but I’m gonna have to whoop her ass in some Rummikub.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Isn’t it funny, about blogs I mean? In real life, I would never put my family’s dirty laundry out in the street like this, but in blog land I get to let it all blow free. I love you guys.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Monday, October 20, 2008

So Damn Mad

I am so mad right now I am seeing red! I don't think I have ever been this angry, in my entire life! I wish I could put my anger into words, but they are too mangled to typed.
Have you ever heard of someone being livid? Well, I am actually livid!
-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Open You Minds, Damn It!

I have something for people to ponder before the big election and during the big debate.
I have been keeping my eye on this election more so than any other. And why wouldn’t I? this election is going to be historical in one way or another. Either we will have I very first black president or our very first female vice-president. Wow,. Who would have thought it, be here we are.

So, that being said you would have think just how much thing have changed and how far we have come. Instead all we learn is just how much more racist and sexist this world is. People who want to compare Obama to Curious George. Not because Curious George is a cute little, mischief maker, but because he is a monkey. People telling Hillary, when she was running, to make them a sandwich. Now, with Pailin, they are already to exploit the fact that she is an attractive woman and a porn is about to be made with a woman that bares a striking likeness to the Governor of Alaska.

Why is it that we can’t just look at these people like people? I had no problem with Hilary being President or Obama’s running mate, until she started playing dirty pool and I lost respect for her. Not as a woman, but as a person. Although I knew it was a ploy to get the female vote, I had no problem with Governor Pailin. Until I listened to he speak on some of the topic and found out that she was an idiot. Okay, maybe idiot isn’t the right word. Let’s go with ignorant. Ignorant of the game. Ignorant of policies. Ignorant of the facts. Okay, let’s go back to idiot. And before you say that there are plenty of Americans that the same came be said for, please remember that those Americans are not vying for the number two position as Chief of State.

The day before yesterday, I was the Station Sergeant so I spent the entire night doing paper work and watching news shows that would speak to the candidates and their running mates. I am not much of a news person, but I gotta say that I found myself becoming immerged in all of the information, both fact and fiction. I was also amazed at how closed minded people can be, failing to evening be open to seeing where their side might be wrong and the other side might be right. The officer (female) who came into work the office that morning, is a hardcore McCain supporter. And it’s not that she loves McCain, it is that she hates Obama. She actually told me this. And I hate to call her racist, because I like this female (white), besides her husband is a brother. Anyway, I was kidding her about McCain being behind and the polls. You know what the heifer said? She said, “Her only hope was for all the bigots to get together and vote against Obama.” Now, to be honest, I thought that was funny as hell. I actually cracked up because I know that although she was joking, a many of honest statements are said in jest.

I personally have been keeping an open mind. I have been listening to the debates. Hearing what is being said by each candidate. Judging each on their own merits. Sure, as a black man I am dick hard excited about the prospect of someone who looks like me making it into the head chair. However, if I vote for Obama, will it be just because he is black? Hell, no. If that was the case I would have voted for Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton. No, Obama is bring something to the table that has nothing to do with his color.

So, why is it that white people ask the question of black people; “If Obama was white would you still vote for him?” My answer to that somewhat racist question is, “Mother fucker, if McCain was black would you being voting for him.” How about we all just close our eyes, tape cardboard over our television screens, and just listen to the issues at hand and vote for the person who actually has our best interest in mind. Because, let’s face it, people. Right now, black, white, male, female, we are all getting fucked together.

-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

Oh, and just for the record. If for some reason you are still unable to make a decision.....Vote for the brother. CHANGE. Come Help A Negro Get Elected.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Did You Ever?

Yesterday I had trouble sleeping because this bitch of a sergeant (male) resent me to rude ass email. I promise you, I am going to beat his unprofessional ass. I ain’t lying. Anyway the email bade me so mad that I couldn’t even sleep prior to going to work, which lead to me being hella tired at work. Sgt. Lupe drove me around and my ass was nodding off in the car like nobody’s business. That is until we got the burglary in process. Needless to say I was all over that and I assisted in capturing two of the three bastards. Can you believe that one of them was only 15 years old, the other seventeen. Of course you can, but that is not what this post is about. Although, just for the record, I still believe that if you are still of school age, look like me and I catch you committing a crime…Instead of taking you to jail I need to have the right to take off my belt and whoop your little ass.

Anyway, so I veered completely off topic her. So, back to not being able to sleep to save my life, prior to going to work. I telling you I was hyped up for a fight and wondering how I was going to have this confrontation with Sgt. Asshole, without losing my temper (I still have not lost it and I promise you it is a daily task with the idiots that I encounter on a daily basis). So, as I am laying in bed my mind began to wonder. I began to think about my step-father and how he was mean to me. Which lead to me thinking about my childhood. Growing up with two older sisters, before the twins were born. Which lead to me thinking about the time I walked in on my mom and step-father having sex. AGHHHHHH!

Yeah, not to traumatizing.

It happened quit innocently enough. You see, my family didn’t have much money and we only had two television. A black and white one that my grandmother had given to me and one of my sisters and the one in my parents room. Of course, being the baby boy, my sisters hogged the black and white television and I didn’t want to watch what they were watching, so I ventured into my parents room to see if I could watch television with them. Now mind you, this was on a Saturday, in the middle of the day, and I was nine years old. I know I was nine, because I am ten years older than my little brother and sister.

Anyway, so I walk through the house and open the door to my parents room and what to my wondering eyes should appear? Yeah, you guessed it. Nothing pretty. All I remember was my mom on top of my step father and naked asses. Oh, and the shocked look on both of their faces. I don’t know what the fuck they were shocked about. I was the one expecting to watch the Rifleman only to end up trying to burn my eyes out with Clorox (not really, but you get my drift). Of course I immediately shut the door and walk stiff leggedly back into the area of the house where my sisters were. And I’m telling you it most have registered all over my face, because they was asking me “what happened, One man.” “What’s wrong.”

Of course I didn’t answer them. I mean, how do you tell your sisters they you just saw your parents having sexual relations. Plus, no one had explained to me the facts of life and I had no idea what the fuck I had walked in on. I just know that it was wrong for me to see and that I was extremely embarrassed.

Now, if that wasn’t bad enough, we end up having a family meeting that night. Now, keep in mind I just want to block the shit out. Have that whole repressed memory thing going on, that you read so much about. But uh, no. My step-father and his overly religious ass, had to give up this talk about Noah and how one of his sons had stumbled upon the drunken Noah naked. And how God had cursed Noah’s son for peering upon his fathers naked body. I kid you not. Can you believe that shit? So not only was I already traumatized by the events of the day, not to mention having to miss the Rifleman, but now I had to worry about God smiting my ass for seeing my step-father naked. Lucky for me that I never considered the bastard as much of a father figure, so I rationalized that I was alright. Oh, and did I mention that this little talk just resulted in my sisters prodding me even more to find out what I had seen. Uh, take a guess bitches. I can’t say it. If I say it, my tongue with turn to maggots and I will be struck dumb right on the spot.
Anyway, this is the first time in my whole life that I have ever recanted that story and I choose to share it with my blog family. Now don’t you feel special?

So, my question to you. Have any of you good people every walked in on your parents having sex? I know I ain’t the only one. I’m probably just the only one who didn’t know what the shit was called at the time I was witnessing it. Oh, and probably the only one who was made to feel like I was going to go to hell for my innocent transgression.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Okay, Freedom. Go ahead and break down the details about Noah and his son seeing him naked. You know you wanna.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

I Love My Mommy!

Here she is; the love of my life. Yeap, this is Mother One Wo-Man. Is she sweet? Yeah, I know you can’t tell by a picture, but my mom is the nicest woman you ever want to meet; so kind hearted and gentle. She is both my heart and my heartache. But she’s that’s kind of heartache that lets you know that you are alive.

I am so much like my mom, it is a shame. We are both gentle in nature, and very non-confrontational. My mom just takes it to the next level. You know, opening her door up to the world. It is very uncommon to hear my mom speak an unkind word about anyone. When I grew up I never heard speak ill about anyone and I think it played a big role in who I am today. Well, her and my grandmother, of course.

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday, and I spent fifteen hours of the day with her. I started off headed to the Ihop, over in her area, to get her a Belgium Waffle breakfast, but the Ihop had gone out of business, so I had to go the ghetto route of a Mickey D’s Chicken biscuit and coffee. LOL. I know, but it was the only place that was close and open in the area at six forty-five in the morning. I made it to my mom’s house at 7 and was the first to wish her a Happy Birthday.
It was cool listening as everyone called to wish her a happy birthday. Even my niece’s new beau, who I don’t think she has been dating for a year, called to wish my mom a happy birthday. Which was hella nice. And get this, not only did he call to wish her a happy birthday, but he also bought her a gift of a large print bible. Wasn’t that nice? Almost made me feel bad about charging him up for coming into the house without knocking. Almost. As a matter of fact, I made up a joke about it. Wanna hear it? Here it goes….

Knock, knock.
Whose there?
Police who?
Police knock before entering. Yo ass don’t live here!

He apologized, so it was all good.

Oh, and guess what. My little brother got up early, put on a nice pair of slacks with shirt and tie, and went out on a job interview. Can you believe that shit? I told my mom that most be his birthday gift to her. LOL And get this. Not an unwanted visitor in sight. I didn't have to turn on the thug alert syster or take my gun out of the trunk of my car or anything.

Then my little sister went to get her a birthday cake, with my nephew. Tell me why it read; Happy Birthday, Grandma. What the hell. This ain’t about Manny. How did it go from happy birthday mom to happy birthday grandma? They made that crap up.

Of course, then we went out to dinner. She picked Chilli’s but whatever. It was her day. I gotta say, my little brother's woman and her kids tried to tag alone, but back out when they got the feeling that they were not welcome. Which they were not. I don't know them. I ended up spending a hundred buck on my mom, along with my little brother, sister and nephew, and it was well worth the price. We had a wonderful time! Anything that adds a smile to my mom's face is priceless to me.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace

Oh, and it is called Toilet Paper Foam, not Liquid Toilet Paper. My bad.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

I'm Fucking Ben Affleck - Uncensored Sub/High Definition

Sarah Silverman Fucking Matt Damon

Sarah Silverman is a nut. I wanted the unbleeping version, but could not find one. But this is just too funny.

Anyway, this is a Fair day for my family and tomorrow my mommy's birthday, so I'm sure I'll have a blog on that. Plus, are bidding for days off this week, so a lot is going on.

Still, until then, check out this video. It is truly funny.

Sunday, October 5, 2008


Well they finally got him. Yep, The 61-year-old Hall of Fame football star was convicted of kidnapping, armed robbery and 10 other charges for gathering five men a year ago and storming a room at a hotel-casino to seize Simpson sports mementos — including game balls, plaques and photos — from two collectors. Prosecutors said two of the men with him were armed; one testified Simpson had asked him to bring a gun.

What a dumb-dumb, chicken little. Why is it that Simpson could not just sit his dumb ass down and be happy to be free? And it wouldn’t have hurt if he had found some homely, motherly type, sister to settle down with. I mean, hadn’t he already lost enough? His reputation, his kids, his Heisman trophy, his little movie career as an “B” list actor. Seriously. How hard is it to sit your ass down? I’m guessing pretty hard when you are as narcissistic as Mr. Simpson. Oh, no, he had to get right back to the white women, who were too young for his ass, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Some of my best friends date white women. Of course they are white men, but that’s besides the point. Anyway, and if that wasn’t enough, he let someone talk his ass into believing that it would be a good idea to be associated with a book called, “If I Did It.” Negro, is you crazy?

So, of course they found his dumb ass guilty, of twelve very serious charges, on this past Friday. How could they not? After all, they set the trap and he allowed his self to step into it. They might as well just chop off his toes and change his name to Toby right now. He ain’t free. As a matter of fact, because of the serious nature of his crimes O.J. was denied bail. So, they currently have Mr. Simpson isolated from all the other prisoner, for his own safety, where he is currently working on his next book; If I Hadn’t Done It (While awaiting appeal).

To be honest with you, I gotta say that I think O.J. is getting what he deserves. I mean, I’m betting somewhere in the world, Johnny Cochran’s remains are shouting; “What the fuck is wrong with you man!” If you are not smart enough to realize that 13 years later, you are still being heavily scrutinized for the murder of your ex-wife and you are still doing dumb shit; then your ass needs to go to jail. That being said, I can’t wonder just how fair of a trial he received. One of the complaints they are setting forth in his appeal is that there were no black folks on the Jury. Yeah, like that’s new. The second thing is that they believe that the Jury was still bias for the thirteen year old murder, that they felt Mr. Simpson got away with. And I gotta say, I agree with ‘em on that count. Ya’ll know that just about everyone thought this was their chance to finally get O.J.

Oh, well…..

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

It's a Family Affair

So, I have decided that I am going to do everything in my power to spend one of my two days off with my family. And trust me, it ain’t easy. Every time I go over there it more and more drama. Today is no different, even though there was not a crack head insight.

When I first get there I see a little parcel sitting outside of the door, so I pick it up and take it into my mom. She ask me to open, so I take it into the kitchen to cut loose the tape. So, I open the box and unwraps the little item inside. You’ll never guess what was inside. Go ahead. Guess.
You give up? Good, because you never would have guessed.
Inside of the box was this little bottle dispenser of something that was called “liquid toilet paper”. That right, you heard me correctly. LIQUID TOLIET PAPER! What the hell? I take the little item back to my mom, hand it over to her with an, “Ewww”. She informs me that it was a free sample that some company sent to her. Yeah, okay. Still……Ewwww.

Later, my sister invites me to go to my little nephew’s PTA meeting. How cool was that. I’ve never been to a PTA meeting. Not many guys at a PTA meeting. I found that to be interesting. After that my sister goes shopping for the Laptop we want to get my mom for her birthday, next week. She asked me for my debt card and I denied her. She was a little offended and asked me if I trusted her. I told her I didn’t, nor would I trust anyone with my debt card. That is always a bad idea.

My little brother is missing in action all day. My mom told me he was out job hunt, but I believed that like I believe that bees are making honey in my ass channel. Anyway, I am laying in the room with my mom, watching Project Runway when my sister calls to take our dinner order. Someone drives into the yard, not long after. I think it is my little sister, but it turns out to be my little brother. He is outside talking to someone, but I can’t tell who. But I find out when my sister gets back with the food.

“Where you brother at,” I ask.
“He out there talking to my 23 year old, unemployed, criminal boyfriend’s mom.”
“Oh. Why he talking to her?”
“Because they are dating now.”
“What? How old is she?”
“She is 43.”
“Oh. Still, mom can’t tell him who he can and can not date.”
“She’s married. That is why mom threatened to put him out.”

Drama, people Nothing but drama. My brother is dating a married woman, who lives down the street, who is the mother of his friend and his sister’s girlfriend. Now I am wondering if this is the chick he had in his room the night I brought little Leroy over, but I don’t bother to ask the question.

What the fuck is going on with my family, people! What the fuck is going on? So now, besides everything else, I have to worry about some crazy husband coming over to do harm to my brother when he finds out about this affair. It is a serious concern, folks, when you consider that the majority of the men on my mom’s side of the family died violent deaths, before the age of forty.

Uncle one: Shot and killed on Thanksgiving day by the father of the girl he was dating at the time.

Uncle two: Stabbed to death by a jealous cousin, while he sleep.

Uncle three: Taken by a violent illness.

Uncle four: A pre-op transsexual, prostitute. Yeah, he, well she actually killed a prostitute for trying to take over her corner and since he is technically a she now, I guess he doesn’t count anyway. But all the other ones hold true.

I don’t know what I would do if somebody hurt my little brother just because some horny bitch can’t stay true to the commitment she made to her spouse. I don’t know what she sees in my brother anyway. Sure he is funny, handsome and charming, but he is also, lazy, unemployed and living at home with his mother. He husband must really be a loser.

Anyway, my family drives me crazy. If it ain’t one thing it’s another with them. I promise you, if it wasn’t for my mom and my nephew, I would have disassociated myself from them a long time ago. I love them to death, but the drama is either gonna kill me or cause me my job.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Little Known Fact

I rushed home early for this one, folks. That’s right, I have the scoop of all scoops and I think I might have even beat MediaTakeOut to the punch on this bad boy. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I have breaking story on how the one and only Prince came up with the Song Purple rain. That’s right, bitches, I have the exclusive details behind it all. So, hold on to your hats, because here it goes.

Everyone remembers the song, Purple Rain, right? If you didn’t grow up with it, I’m sure you’ve heard it in one capacity or another. If not, well, here’s a few choice stances from that puppy:

I never meant 2 cause u any sorrowI never meant 2 cause u any painI only wanted 2 one time see u laughingI only wanted 2 see u laughing in the purple rainPurple rain purple rainPurple rain purple rainPurple rain purple rainI only wanted 2 see u bathing in the purple rain.

Get it? Huh? Do you get it? The purple rain is Prince’s Urine. That’s right, he was peeing on this anonymous chick (we think it might have been Vanity), but don’t quote me on that.

Anyway, back in the day, Prince was on this all Grape diet. So, for about a month all he ate was grapes. That’s how he managed to keep his girlish figure. Well, by some freak of nature, this all grape diet turned the Prince of Pop’s piss purple. Sadly, the man didn’t notice this, because he pees sitting down. Well, that, and the fact that he had that toilet sanitizer, which turns the water blue. So, as you can see, there was no way for him to know that he had this anomaly going on with his body, until this one faithful day. Yep, you guessed it. He was taking a piss on his girl, once again we think it was Vanity, and the spray comes out Purple.

The funny thing is that it wasn’t even Prince that noticed it. Well, not at first. You see, since it was hard for him to pee standing up, he had his eyes closed in concentration. It wasn’t until he heard, Vanity, or whatever the chick’s name, laugh and say; “You pissing purple rain on me, baby.” So, Prince is there, junk in hand, looking at this semi-nude woman, laughing as she lay sprawled in the puddle of purple urine and he comes up with this song. Yep, you guessed it. Purple Rain. The rest is history. Who knew it would be come a big hit in the eighties?

Anyway, you heard it here first.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

So, was that a believable story? Purple Rain was playing on the radio, as I pulled into my driveway, and I concocted this little story. Anyway, I’m thinking of turning this blog into a haven for made up gossip lies, on the rich and famous. What do you think?

Monday, September 29, 2008

It's Your Attitude

Remember the Sermon on the Mount and how Jesus gave his diciples the beatitude? No? Well, I do. As I continue to read the Secret Life of Bees, I just got to a part that put two things in my head. One I will wait to share, because it is very much a part of the book and I am ahead in our reading. The other I think I can talk about in general.

I remember not really getting the story of the Sermon on the Mount but enjoying reading the Beatitudes; for some reason they touched me. I use to always wonder which of the eight categories I fell into. So, as I lay here, well pass my bedtime, I can not get the idea of the Beatitudes out of my head; so I thought it might do me good to do a post on them. So, without further ado:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God. Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
Gospel of St. Matthew 5:3-10

As I said, when I was young I use to wonder which of these categories best fit me. Now that I am older, I think I fit into each of the categories, except for maybe the last one. To this day, I still don’t think I fully grasp the concept of the Beatitudes, but I still find them so wonderful to read, in all their simplicity. So, which one are you?

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

Just a though I need to get off my mind, so I can forget about the book and get some rest before bed. You don’t have to participate. Oh, and could someone please tell Ieshia, I have no idea how to email her so I can reach her allusive new site. Tell her not to make me do a damn post on her ass!

Sunday, September 28, 2008

One At a Time

Last night was an interesting night. What to hear about it? Here we go.

The day before yesterday Sgt. Lupe ran across some dumb ass teens, out past the City's curfew. She was foolish enough to allow them to go home on their own, with just a warning. A little later on, that same day, she spots the same three juvies attempting to break into a freaking church, or so she claims. They spot her and take off running, well two did, the other one was too scared to run and she was able to put him in custody. Knowing that I have zero tolerance on these little bastards and their parents, she calls me out to the scene to see if I want to aid him to my list of kids I conduct random bed checks on. I get out there and surprise, surprise. It is one my little habitual curfew violators. We take his dumb ass home, but not before going over to the house of one of the Little angles who ran and gripe out his mom for not know where the hell her 15 year old son is at 3 o’clock in the morning.

Then we take little Leroy (that what we’ll call him) back home to his mom’s house, where he is issued a ticket for the curfew violation. A ticket that his mom can’t afford. Now, since I have already told little Leroy what an embarrassment he is to me, seeing as he looks like me, and how if he was my blood I’d cluck him upside the head with my flashlight; I also feel obligated to let him know that I don't think he is a bad kid but is making some bad decisions. So, this leads him to ask me what he is suppose to do when he mom kicks him out of the house and then the reports him as a runaway.

Gentle Giant that I am, I give and my business card and write my cell phone number on the back. Before handing it over to him I let him know that if he and his little buddy misuse my number, for any reason, I’d come knocking on his door and that there will be hell to pay.
Anyway, fast forward to last night. Guess who called me, before I went into work. Yep, little Leroy. He is at odds with him mom and don’t know what to do. So, I call work and tell them that I am going to be a little late, because I have to make a detour and go pick his ass up. I have decided, with his mom’s permission, to bring little Leroy to work with me so we can have a heart to heart talk and maybe I can be that beacon that leads his ass down the right path. Maybe.

I took him to the station, gave him comic books to read, while I did my work. He was talked to by different sergeants, of different races and various troops and made to stand before our detail. Sgt. Latin even gave the kid tickets to a hockey game (Little Leroy use to play hockey). I mean to tell you if this young man was not known by the police officers on deep nights before, you better believe his ass is now. He will be dumb as fuck to do anything illegal.

Anyway, after our 12 o’clock detail lets out I take him to the crack house….err, sorry, over my mom’s house, because she needed to borrow money and it was part of my route for that day. I introduced him to my slacker, little brother, who was having sex for some reason. Do you know that I didn’t think my little brother had sex? Seriously, I thought he was that damn lazy, but he damn sho’ did have some female all up in his bedroom. Still, he was nice enough to come out of his room and spit some wisdom on the kid. Little Leroy, like most, felt an instant connect with my little brother. He might be a lackadaisical son of a gun, but he can charm the pants off of you. (Don’t worry, my mom lives far enough away that I am not worried about the kid remember how to get back to her joint).

En route to my mom’s place, I tell him a little about my situation growing up. I let him know that life for me ain’t been no crystal staircase. So, by the time we leave from my mom’s house he is willing to open up and tell me about how his dad died, last year, his parents separation, his mom near death experience, how his own grandmother stole his dad’s insurance policy; leaving him and his mom with nothing. The works. The boy has had it hard, and he is acting up as a result. But everyone has their sob stories and I let him know that that is no excuse for him to act the way he does and never an excuse to buck up to his little, frail mom. This kid, is twice the size of mom, folks.

Then I take him to my Ihop, where he gets to meet the wait staff there. The people at Ihop love me, folks. Their world lights up when I come into the door. I don’t care how busy it is, they make time to cluster around my booth and spend a little time with One Man. Talk about your ego boost, and it impressed the hell out of little Leroy who said, “Wow, everybody knows you here.” Of course, that was not the purpose of taking him to Ihop. You see, not only was little Leroy wearing the same thing that he had on the day before, but I had also learned, en route to station, that he hadn’t eaten all day. He swore to me, up and down, that he wasn’t hungry, but we all know that was a lie. What 15 year old, grown boy, isn’t hungry. C’mon now.

Anyway, he ordered a big ass bacon, egg and cheese burger and he got to listen to my group of misfits talk about the things they did, which lead them to were they are in life right now. Plus, they song my praises, which is always good.

After we finished at Ihop I was taking little Leroy home, when all hell broke lose at one of our clubs in South Dallas. It came out as a shooting, but ended up being just a big ass free for all and you know your boy One Man has to be a part of the fray. These men and women at these clubs know I don’t play with them. So, we go there and help break up that mess and then, once again, make a bee line to his house. Well, I’ll be damn if I don’t see another teenager walking down the street, just as calm as you please. I make him get in my car, take him home and as I am writing his ass a citation, this Hispanic male comes stumble pass me. He has had the hell beat out of him, to the point that I have to call an ambulance. Well, sure enough, this unfolds into some drama, that I won’t get into, but once we get it all situated, I take little Leroy home.

It is now past three and we can’t get little Leroy’s mom to wake up, to save our lives. So, we call and leave a message on the machine, that I am going to keep him for the rest of the morning, which I do. Mr. Leroy had one hell of an experience with me last night, because I am what you call a shit magnet. We got flagged down an aggravated assault, he got to see both nice and mean Sgt. One Man, I taught him how to check a person on our MDC. And he got to partake in an arrest of this stupid ass drunk, who broke out his girl's front glass window. It was one hell of a night, but I am hoping that he got something out of the experience. After all, the Dallas Police Department rained down a lot of love and care on that little man.

Yeah, I think I might have done a little too much, invested a little too much time, but I think he appreciated it; I know his mom did. The poor lady is at her wit’s end. Only time will tell if I, with the help of my fellow boys and girls and blue, were able to make a difference in this young man’s life. Your boy, One Man, trying to save the world one thug at a time. LOL

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

(Plus, I am under the assumption that if I invest a certain amount of time in his ass, I become authorized to hit him when he steps out of line.)