Friend of Mine

One hoe said, "Big, why you so hard on us? 

Why you swear all bitches are so scandalous?" 

Thug nigga 'til the end, tell a friend bitch 

'cause when I like ya, then ya go and fuck my friend bitch 

(And you know that ain't right)

FTSwindle (For The Swindle)

You have reached a stage in your life, now you have the Big Boy life.  Big Boy clothes, Big Boy job, and Big Boy problems.  You have come up in life.  So with this Big Boy life, you need a reliable car to travel it work to and while keeping and succeeding in that Big Boy career. You could get a new Big Boy car, but you came across the car you have always dreamed of.  It's one of them cars that's one of a kind special but it's used.  And you can only afford one car.  You are faced with the choice of your dream car or going out and looking for a new car to settle on to get you to work and your future.  But it's your dream car and it's the car you always wanted so you go with that despite it being older and having 100,000 miles already.  You are happy, you are living your dream.  The moments you have it you are loving it and can't imagine how you was getting by without it before.  Then suddenly, the problems become greater and more frequent.  Your future is in jeopardy, it's not reliable.  After the fact, you check the Carfax report and see it had several previous owners that didn't take care of it.  Internal problems, accidents, failed maintenance, just a lack of regard for taking care of.  After seeing the report it's hard to view the car the same way, you start noticing problem and flaws you didn't see before.  It's your dream car so you still hold on hope even against the odds.  You pay for maintenance and repairs.  You take care of the car like it should.  But still the car turns on you and dies.  So now you are stuck having to go out and find another car because you need one.  Odds are after feeling burned, you won't go used again but after spending all the time and money it will be hard to afford the brand new car that you would want.  So you are faced with either settling with a new reliable car that you really don't love that much but it does what you need it to do with no problems or going used again and rolling the dice on the damages that it may have.

The Hard Question is:  Was that brief joy of owning your dream car worth all the later hardships and setbacks?

Ever Felt A Disturbance In The Force?

There are times in your life where everything looks good on paper, but your gut is telling you something is not right.  The hard question is what do you do?  Even though everything seems great you have a strong feeling it’s not going to last.

Personally, I am feeling a disturbance in the Force, like in the Star Wars movies.  The world is not inline.  Not just on a global level but more so on a personal level.  I am blessed to have a healthy family, a good job, a good girl, and a wonderful set of friends but yet something is not quite right and it didn’t always feel like this.  I still do the same things everyday but they don’t feel the same.  Almost like the loneliness in a crowded room feeling… Don’t worry I’m not suicidal or nothing haha, my life is good.  I just thought I would share the feelings of being on autopilot.  I’m sure it will pass or there will be the epic movie climax that follows a disturbance in the Force to signal the end of something.

Just A Word...

Relationships are dead are the feelings of most people not in seriously committed ones (married or on the way to). Statistic prove it. Jaded, they are. People push each other away with negativity. Women frequently say there are no good men left and things to that nature to comfort and to receive amen's and applause's from other jaded women. That is neither productive nor true. It's entertaining along the lines (but not close) to the fun of Nazi Germany blaming the Jews for their problems. A bit of advice, do like the guys do. We don't tell our boy that there are no good women out there, we know there are. We say our boy is too good for her, specifically. And then to proceed to list mental hang ups, crazy things she done or said, and everyone she has slept with. My favorite is mourning our boy that made the mistake of getting with a girl he was too good for. Now he can't come out to hang because taking care of other dude's kids. Can't check email or receive phone calls because she paranoid. His self esteem is crushed because she be dogging him out with her craziness. We drink to his death and laugh about it and hope he doesn't knock her up.

But there are good women and dudes out there. They just need to stay way from the ones with issues. So tell them that way.

Another Crazy Dream

Last night I had this crazy dream. Start off in some caves and there is a group of scientist in there. They are not safe in there and they ask me to guide them and protect them, because hostiles keep respawning up around them in the cave. So I help fight them off but every time I make a suggestion on what to do next to keep safe they say do something else. Justifying it as the smarter thing to do. They keep making snide remarks about how much smarter they are. I try to remind them that common sense and heart factor in, not just book smarts. They needed to listen to me. I get pissed and got off on the lead guy. I say I'm not stupid, I'm smarter than you think and run off a list of life accomplishments in anger. To prove my point I left them own their own. Later I came back and asked them if they still needed help and helped them again. Well, we get in to this big grand fight and my gun runs out of bullets and I have to switch to a smaller left handed gun. Well I after I fend them off in epic fashion, I go to the head scientist and I ask him for his right handed gun. I say I am better with the right handed one, let's switch. He says no he is right handed and rejects my argument that is more important for me to be in a better performance situation to defend. So I say fuck it and quit. I told them they are on there own and left them again. Well I go back in to the cave and I'm going through tunnels and come the location. There are bosses lurking in the room- MMO style. I separate the minions from the bosses and pick them off one by one. While I am fighting, another group comes in an starts fighting with bosses too. I take advantage of the distraction to clear out the room. When the room is cleared, I'm left with an evil priest, an evil business man, and a mother and her little girl, had to be 6 or 7. I'm demanding the money and treasure. I'm holding them hostage and threaten to shoot them if they don't do what I say. I ask the little girl where is the money, she says on the third floor second room on the right. I tell the mother you are going to unlock this treasure for me or I will make you watch your daughter suck my dick. wow I'm cold. As she is getting the stuff out of the wall safe and I feel threaten by one of the evil guys. So I slit his throat and stab him in the kidney with a hunting knife. Someone comments on efficient my kill was; admiring and warning the hostages. Now there seems to be a hand full of hostages, a lot more than before. I send someone to go get the money for me. They say I don't know where is. So I tell them it's upstairs third floor two doors to the right. While they are getting the money I confront the evil priest about what going on in this community, refuses to give in and repent. I lift up my gun and pull the trigger to shoot him in the throat, but it fire a BB instead of a bullet. I get upset and unload the BB gun on his throat. I becomes battered and bruised from the pellets. By now the money was back and there was whole lot of hostages. The mother asks me, what now? I say it's pretty much over, I can't leave we are surrounded. I tell the hostages that no matter what happens to me they (The Man) can not take back the money I stole. You can keep your jobs, they were mine workers that were about to be laid off because of the recession. Don't let them take the money, it's spent on yall jobs. It was nightfall by then and all the hostages, a hundred by now, are turned watching TV in the cave. I'm behind them in a lawn chair. I tell the little girl to go get the toys I gifted for her. When she goes away, I put my head in my hands between my legs in the chair and start crying. Starts off weak then turns in to an all out ball. I'm whining, "I don't want to die, I don't want to die." I knew I had to die, and it was not a choice. So I kept crying, like a child. It made everyone around sad to hear a grown man giving a real cry. Ended up on the floor by the time the little girl came back. She sit down besides me without a word and played with the toys. It calms me as my crying dies down to a whimper. Finally, I get up and get a couple of thank yous from the hostages. I say don't let them take your jobs, they can't do that. It's not right. The mother comes and gives me a hug and a kiss. Then I walk to the door of the cave to die, not looking back.

Do You Remember Me?

Do you remember me? We go back. I remember when I was the only one you knew and you was too scared to speak. Now you just don't want to speak...who knew years later you would be brand new? Do you remember me? We were buddies. I remember you calling me your best friend, now you act uncomfortable until our conversation ends. When did I become an inconvenience? Do you remember me? We were cool. I remember letting you tag along at night, now I have to pretend that don't care if I don't an invite. When did that become alright? Do you remember me? We were "cute." I remember you proudly taking my hand like I was your man, now I'm the guy you can't publicly stand. When did you become ashamed? Do you remember me? We were tight. I remember long phone calls and gay trips to the mall, now I'm just that bamma you text instead of return call. When did I lose your respect? Do you remember me? We were goosing. I remember sneaking glances and brushing shoulders, now I only get the cold shoulder. What made it chilly? Do you remember me? We were on a level. I remember you said I was someone you looked up to, now you treat my opinion like old doo doo. What caused the change? Do you remember me? We were blood. I remember fighting for you, physically and verbally, now you help those that are against me? Is loyalty only temporary? Do you remember me? Because I remember you and all the ways to hurt you too, but choose not to. When did you turn mean?

My 'A' is a Vowel and My Minute is Long

The other day I had the most disturbing conversation that I have had in a while, worst than arguing with my strongly opinionated republican boss about how much of a piece shit that Joe the Plumber is. Maybe my logic is off, please let me know. Sit back kids and let me tell you a story. For the minute now, I have had a friend that from the very moment I have met them I felt comfortable talking to. No reservations or second thoughts. Talking to them, it felt completely natural and safe. So for a long time they was one of my always available listeners that I had no problems confiding my stories to them. A trust not easily given away but just felt natural so I did. So what is the problem you say? The problem was my assumptions. I assumed that they were a listener and it never occurred to me that they were also a story teller. Or would retell my stories. Because they never really told me stories, just listened to mine. A one way street. It didn't occur to me that they would share my stories. So when it came to my attention that one of my stories was told and how it came out, it was shocking and upset. I didn't like it so I said how felt about it but I never ever thought it was trust breaking issue. But somehow it took a nasty turn. If I tell a story, in my words then an a is a vowel and a b is a consonant and a minute means a long amount of time. All that I asked was to understand that and remember that when I tell my stories that my a's are vowels, b's are consonants and a minute still means a long time. When someone else tells their own stories it's their own dictionary and rules. I thought that was simple and easy enough to respect, I do and would do the same for anyone else. Respect their wishes. But my friend told me that they don't think that a is always a vowel and a minute is not that long, and that it's not a big deal because they don't think it's that important to honor that in my stories. That's where the fight was. They told me, since they don't think a is always a vowel and a minute is that long, basically, I can't expect my story to maintain it's integrity. And if I wanted that then I need to explicitly say to them keep my a's as vowels and my minutes meaning long. That is a problem for me. How can I trust someone to maintain the integrity of my words if they don't believe or even willing to acknowledge or respect my rules in the stories that I have? Maybe their a's are consonants, I can respect that, but my a's are always vowels and my minutes always mean a long time. And constantly having to say please treat my a's as vowels and my minutes as a long time does not make a person someone you want to share with because it makes you feel like you can't relate or trust them. There is a fundamental disconnect. If every time I needed to speak to a person but I am required to say "Do you understand?" basically means that they don't understand and it needs to be re enforced. And over time you don't want to speak to them because it's too much trouble and it feels uncomfortable even speaking to them because they never really understand. And sadly the fact of the matter is that I enjoyed speaking with them and now I have that doubt in my mind of my words losing their integrity which can easily make someone, untrusting like myself, more cautious to share them. So what does one do about that? You become careful about the stories you tell, you filter. You don't share stories that has a's in them. Because we have been close, I really don't want to have to do that. But if they are going to stand by that ideology that a's are whatever they think it should be even when coming out of my mouth, unless I explicitly say so, makes that person someone that could be problematic to deal with and also makes you feel like you should not be sharing stories with them because in their mind your story is already misinterpreted. I think the primary reason the conversation did not end well was because they full heartily couldn't see an a as a vowel and they thought I was trying label them as a bad person or being worst than I am because I treat an a as a special character instead a regular consonant. That was never my intent, it was never about who's right and who's wrong. It was about how I expected my words to be handled and interpreted. I don't think that is unreasonable to expect that, especially since all this time we have been able to enjoy a trusting relationship where my stories were not retold incorrectly. There is no one person that is right and the others is wrong. There is no negotiations and terms of agreement to need to be made for us to have a good relationship with words. It is a simple matter of trusting someone and sharing a respect level both ways. What is disturbing is that I thought we had that, only to discover that it doesn't matter how I speak my a's are not always vowel and my minute don't mean a long time even as only a particular weirdness to me when it comes to this person. And that stubbornness and lack of respect for my stories and their integrity hurts and feeds the anger of any betrayal regardless if we are talking about a's, b's, c's, or z's. Here's the hard question, would you still grant someone the same level of trust with your words when they, to their core, disagrees with you and refuses to see or acknowledge that you have your own rules that relate to your own words? How do you handle a disconnect of meaning?

A Pet Snake

Shout out to Jackie Peppers for leaning on me. This is a new post. Y'all have to keep pressure on me, or I'll procrastinate and slip up.

Some people are confused why I treat someone differently than I would threat someone else. Simply put because I have a different relationship with everyone. And I analyze people. It's no secret I get along with everyone. But I do classify some closer, cooler, or dangerous to me more than others. And I hold everyone to separate expectations based on how well I think I know them. Shout out to Meraf - WPGC 95.5 FM (shameless plug), I always had high expectation for you!

 An important factor in me knowing someone is consistency. Whither it's a positive or negative trait. Your personality and who you are is defined by your consistency. I can be good friends with shady people because they are consistent and I expect that, their shadiness is not a surprise. I can respect that that's who they are and I am able to deal with it because THAT IS who they are...shady. But at the same time, shady people can not expect to have the same level of trust or loyalty as another one of my friends because consistently they are shady people.

 I'm a complicated and reasonable person. But I also I have an opinion and traits that I respect more than others. I prefer a bad person that I can understand vs a good person that I don't. it's consistency.

 Say I had two friends, one was kind of shady and an asshole or a dick. The other was really nice and friendly, the easy to get along type. The asshole friend and the nice friend are both nice to me, personally we have a good relationship. But they both talk shit about other people. The difference between the two is that the asshole is not an easy to get along with person and are not afraid to speak up when they don't agree. The easy to get along with person either co-signs or joins in but never defends anyone that is being dogged out in their presence even if they are friends with them because they avoid conflict. Now let's talk loyalty. As friend I would give them both my loyalty because that's who I am. But... Odds are I would trusts the asshole more because they are more consistent and straight forward. Why are snakes so feared? Because when they attack you don't see it coming. That's why snakes are more feared than bears. Bears you see coming, snakes sneak up on you. With assholes, I kind of know how they are and I can trust them to be that way. So if ever my name needs to be defended, I know the asshole person would have my back while the nice person would just sit there and not say a thing or maybe co-sign on it. Now you may ask, What is the problem with that, they are being themselves and consistent, isn't that what you said you liked? The problem is... at least to me is that I'm an asshole type and I speak up when you talk negative about my friends (or most anything I like). Loyalty and consistency is important when it come to personality especially to a person that is a very loyal person, himself. I have that dog type of loyalty. But unlike a dog, if you abuse me I will bite you. And that's major problem I have with those nice people. Way too often it's easy for them to join in talking shit about people. Personally, I believe a real friend speaks out for their friends and great people like MLK will go a step further and speak up for those that have no voice (not present people). And most of the time the nice people hate the assholes, and they will talk shit about the assholes but not to the assholes. But if the assholes like a nice person the assholes never say a bad word about them. Because they are asshole and don't waste time talking about people they like when they can talk shit about people they really don't like. My problem is I'm an asshole type that can't trust my friendly non conflict friends (let me say you friendly folks that we go back through a lot of shit, y'all have my heart and don't apply, I know y'all got my back).

 Basically, I lose respect and trust in someone who talks shit instead of defending someone who could be seen as a friend and who has never said anything bad about them or even defended them when they are not around. In my ALMOST my 30 years of experience I have learned that people do grow and change but loyalty to people is something that doesn't change. You don't learn it. The only thing that changes is who you are loyal to.

 My "asshole" type friends are the ones I have for the longest, because I have their back and they have mine. And if they have a problem with me they tell me, instead complaining behind my back.

 If I'm wrong please let me know. If I'm right on point, feel free to amen on it. I think everyone has an opinion on people that talk shit about people aka haters.

Evil Wishes

It takes a special asshole to wish harm upon someone else. I am feeling a little down right now because of Tom Brady's injury. Not so much because it was good friend of mine (didn't know the guy), not so much because I like the Patriots (I'm a Dallas fan), but because I had him on my fuckin' fantasy football team! Yes, fantasy football is that serious. Especially, since I had him in a keeper pay league. This is killing me. A hurt Tom Brady is costing me money. The worst thing is: I know what happened. There is some fucked up haters in this world. And as a Dallas fan in Washington, D.C. I know them well. These are the assholes that spit out lines like, I hope Tony Romo gets hurt. Who does that? Now Tom Brady is hurt because of some dickweed (yes, I took it old school - "dickweed") was making a gay ass wish. Warning: this is an angry post. So here is my wishes for the asshole who wish an evil wish on Tom Brady and fucked my wishes of easily winning a fat stack of cash(I wonder if I could of fit another "wish" in there?):

1. Every time you pull out of a parking lot the police pull you over do a full cavity search with the meanest officer with the biggest man hands.
2. You find out Michael Jackson was the donor for your test tube baby ass. (shout out to Robin Harris, RIP)
3. Your first born looks like the crooked eyed dude from Goonies AND he got his looks from his grandma...yes, yo' momma.
4. You get a nasty rash to the balls sack...Bitch, you are burning!
5. You get stub fingers and a gimp arm on your jerk off side.
6. You get the rare disease where no one in the whole entire world like your ass because are a completely useless piece of shit that someone left float in a gas station bathroom stall. Not even your momma likes you.
7. Finally, for the rest of life you have the motherfucking bubble guts! The kind that burns and waters the eyes. And you can't even fart because shit WILL squeeze out (pun intended).

Stop at seven to keep it lucky.

When Irony Met Karma

Today I left work with a headache and sore eyes. But as I watch Lost and The Office (the I've been watching "The Wire" lately joke was classic), I came to a realization. A few months back, while on IM with a very lovely friend(trying to get brownie points) I took a sarcastic comment out of context and took it to heart. I freaked out and proceed to call her dismissive and mean spirited. After reflecting on what and how it was said and the particular context, I realized I was wrong and apologized. From the moment I met her she had been nothing but the nicest to me, and it was unfair for me to accuse her of otherwise by taking a (bad) sarcastic joke out of context with no proof. It was not a good moment in Will history. So today, I'm on IM again with my friend I go on my "Judge My By Actions" speech and say somethings I commonly say, I'm a hypocrite and just because I may say something but doesn't mean that I mean it. My friend took it literally and to heart and accused me without really saying it of possibly not being truthful with her this entire time that I have known her based off of that. Which caused me to become upset. My words were taken without regard to context and then generalized. Those are lines I use to stress the importance of judging someone by their actions and the need for the greater good. And are true within the appropriate context. Especially from a person who preaches about avoiding generalizes, having different responses to different situations, and the greater good of things. But come on, to say I always say something when I mean another? That is a compulsive liar. As someone that prides themselves on telling it how it is, it hurts. I am not a compulsive liar. Especially since I have been nothing but honest with everyone and especially her more so than others. Plus there was no proof of the otherwise, either. I hope she one day is able to trust me again and understands that I am not a liar and it's kind of ridiculous to be someone who lies all the time and then admits to it. Wouldn't a compulsive liar lie about being a liar? Karma is a bitch, now I really know what she felt like to be attacked after having a few word taken the wrong way.

I’m cold, you already know...

It’s a little early, but I’m writing this because a particular someone doesn’t want to talk to me right now, because I guess because I am some type of liar. And against the better judgment of a friend that knows me of my tendency to eat beef and my need for everyone to see things my way. Anyway, I’m talk about me. Disclaimer needed. It’s no secret, I’m a…dare I say, it a great conversationalist (maybe all little cocky too, but I back it up). But what’s a one sided discussion? If we both agree it’s boring. So as Dan once put it, you have to ask the hard questions. I’m not going to keep asking why? why? Like a child. I’ll just take on the other side of the discussion, I don’t have to full hearted believe in it. It’s called playing devil’s advocate. It force people to actual be able to rationalize why they believe what they believe. And it help me understand both sides and either confirm or refute what I believe. I call it self learning. I can take the other side of a genocide debate, without being for genocide. But because in a discussion I say something in support of genocide does that make me a liar? I never killed anyone. At least anyone you know. Well maybe, no one physically (I know I’ve killed some self esteems before). So are people on the debate team liars too? Another thing I tend to do is brag and boasts. I call myself God’s gift all the time. But everyone that knows me know can be really humble too. Does that make me a liar too? Is it not possible for me to be humble and have high self esteem? I can’t have both? Even at different levels? I can say some really mean things but I dare you not to say I’m not a very nice caring person too. It’s just words, anyway. Remember, stick and stones? We do not live in a computer world of ones and zeros, true and false, black and white. I don’t know about yall, but my world is three dimensional, and in color. I am not simple, never claimed to be. Want to keep it simple, but I am not. Simplicity is goal to live by but not a reality. Sorry if I assume every intelligent person sees in color too. In this particular case I like to think the best of people. Actions speak louder than words. What is more powerful? A parent telling their kid not to touch the flame on the stove because is hot, or the parent taking the hand and putting it near the flame saying feel the heat, it’s hot don’t touch it? Which case is more effective? When a Politician promises to do something but doesn’t do it, do you keep voting them in to office because they keep saying they are going to do something? No, actions are what count. Is it wrong that I rather be judged by my actions? Can I be liberal and pro legalization without being a smoker? Am I allowed to hate and like guns? Is there no grays? Does everything have to be black and white? I do think they are cool and I like shooting them, but I also think they are dangerous and ruins lives. To box me into either or is insulting, I’m an intelligent creature. Let me be fresh to def and have color. That is real. That is the truth. I am complicated. Everything is not literal with me; there are shades and exceptions to the rules like anything else in life. I like to think that can I see from other perspectives, and I have 3d vision. The question is: how do you decipher what I really mean then? The easiest thing is just ask, I fucking love to talk about what I believe. I am proud of my beliefs. Or you can judge me by my actions. I do pride myself on speaking the truth and being honest. I don’t like to read but I read a lot. Both are true. I am not a black and white 2D drawing. I don’t like reading, I read a lot, like writing, but can’t write. 3D and in color! I am not simple, please don’t box or call me fake because I don’t fit in the cookie cutter. The important thing is to use your own head and make a decision on your own about me based on your experiences with me. No one has ever looked me in my eyes and has not been able to know how I feel. I’m told all the time, I’m really easy to read. My heart is easily read. It’s like a children’s book. I’m hot, you’ll learn, I wouldn’t touch me because my hand might burn. I’m cold, you already know, you can go by what you heard depending on what they told. I’m too little to hit, and I’m too big to forget, and I’m too wide to hold, I’m too thin to fold.

Ok It Was A Little Lame

Ok, so it might have been a “lame ass attempt” at an April Fool’s Day trick, like a certain somebody made a point to point out. But isn’t it the thought that counts? And since when did black people start using the word lame anyway? I’ll be the first to admit in retrospect that it wasn’t that good of a joke, but I’m not that creative at three in the morning after playing some intense Halo with the Bowie State Comp Sci Boys. “I like to rock the black, cause I got a cool killer look.”

While putting the finishing touches some posts to be placed on the blog for a later date. Because I promised myself that I would work on it more, since the number of my subscribers has quadrupled since November. I’m not talking about the people that just stop thru and see a page. I’m talking about subscribers. They are people that request to get new shit automatically and regularly. These are the people Da Franchise Boyz are talking about, random ass people off the net that stumbled on my shit and liked it. Boy, I think they like me.

Anyway, I saw the date and it was April Fool’s Day and I was like I got to do something. I got to fuck with somebody. I was going to get at that bamma that had a problem with what I said about P. Diddy. Earlier, Chalmer hit me up with a guest writing spot about motherfuckers and their cell phone, which I will have to follow up on because he missed some people I got beef with. I decided to write a post saying that I was giving up the blog. Then I had to think of a how. I picked I was going to prison. This was one I could work with, joke wise, but now that I look back it probably wasn’t the best one. Literally four weeks ago, I was at a coming home party for one of my cousins that just finished a 20-year bid. Now I think it the idea was a little insensitive. But that’s the story of my life. Say it now and apologize later for it.

A good April Fool’s Day joke takes a proper balance of fact and fiction to work. And I took a piss and a little bit missed the toilet (You can use that quote). The story was not outrageous enough to be completely unbelievable. It was like 4 am at this point. I have crazier real stories. Plus, I’m not good at lying. I like to kill’em with the truth. For the people that missed my post and/or email and are now just catching up, “it’s whatever”. You missed it. I made the web page talk for the people that visited the site on that day. I was a little siced that I could do that. Now be honest with yourself, if you missed it stop reading this shit and wait for the next shit to go down, you’re late. You missed the bus.

For the people that didn’t fall for it: I don’t care if it was April Fool’s Day or not, what the fuck is wrong with you?! I was going to jail and you didn’t care? You should have been like, “Oh, Will that’s tragic, want can I do for you?” You ain’t have be on my nuts or anything but show some fucking concern. I’ll be the first to say I ain’t cute, but I am way to pretty to go to jail. And I’m not a flat booty brother either. Ladies, you can bounce quarters of off my ass. Check it, I used to work out and I get it from my momma. The last thing, I don’t need to be is in a prison shower with a 250 lbs grown ass man thinking, “Shorty got ass.” I can’t be anywhere like that. You know I’m a little homophobic. I’m not built for that shit nor do I want to be. Yall should have cared about my ass (no pun intended). Sadly, I probably would have gotten a college degree faster if I went the locked up route. Prison lawyers are the bomb. For the people that say, I know you, Will. And you’re a good guy and would never get in trouble and to have to go to jail. Bullshit, don’t think for a second, I won’t catch a case right now and go straight to jail. I’m a Black man in American and that’s real. You can clap for that.

For the people that did fall for it: Ha Ha. April Fools. Gotcha good huh? Unlike the motherfuckers I addressed above, I like you because you like me. Yall are the real ones in my eyes. I appreciate the love and support shown, and that’s real. The advice how to be strong and for me not to let anyone toss my salad with neither jelly nor syrup was touching in a thug love type of way. Even my buddy, who was born in hell but kicked because she was too mean instantly, showed me a lot of love. I must be rubbing off on her. Everything was all in the spirit of April Fool’s Day so no hard feelings, but do know I got your back just like you got mine, even the bammas that didn’t care if I got locked up. That’s the type of person, I am. That’s why even Jesus wears a “What Would Will Wash Do?” t-shirt.

Even though no one took up the offer for the nudie pictures (for which I was greatly disappointed by), writing people is still important. We can work into the nudie pictures later. Cause everybody got a little freak in them (preview of a future post). For years now, I write to my uncle serving a life sentence from getting caught up with some shady (out respect of the dead, it would be in appropriate to use the b-word, but that’s another story) girlfriend shit, although, I don’t write as often as I should. Just about everybody knows someone locked up or has been, especially if your Black, Hispanic, White, and Arabs now. Arabs just can’t talk to their people while they’re in Guantanamo Bay. Write them a letter and send them a picture of the family. When one of my other cousins was locked up he said one of favorite things to do was draw naked girls. Now that’s real, because you can’t be mad at that. Can’t go the gay route and dudes love women and sex neither of which you can get or want to get in jail. Remember, they are friends or family members locked up with monsters and have no contact to the outside normal world. Be their link. It’s costs nothing but time and thought to you however it’s worth a fortune to them. Ask anyone who been locked up.

Now for the after school special time, what have I learn from this? Some of you bammas don’t care if I get shanked or ass raped. I hope you feel guilty. It was fucked up, insensitive, and in bad taste for me to play a trick on those that do care if I get booty hole taken. I hope we all can hug make-up. I like hugs… They make you feel warm… Oh yea, one thing I am interested to know is, what did people think I was on parole for in the first place? That would be an interesting survey.

I still love you guys.

Your boy,

Will Wash

P.S. Even though I’m not going to be serving time, we can still hit up the strip club. “When she give me a lap dance it feels like we’re on a date. Cause I’m in love with a stripper.”

P.S.S. Shout out to Luan for photoshoping my mug shot. Too funny. He must want my ass to get taking.