A First!

Today, I was truly honored to find out someone liked one of my photos enough to have it professionally printed. I am so moved by it. We all appreciate approval in different fashions.

Look At A Young Will Wash!

On a day of bitching and a Stock Market crash, the CB3 (Cambridge Hall, Third Floor) homie Loco, aka Damon send me this youtube gem.  I remember my folks saying they saw me on TV but I didn’t think much of it, this is before DVRs. 
0:41 seconds in... a skinny young Will Wash with the bush and huge sweatshirt and again at 0:51

Being one of the mascots was the greatest experience of my youth. Shout to my partner Ian Murphy and The University of Maryland Cheerleaders.  LET’S GO TERPS!!!

Fun Fact: FEAR THE TURTLE was started by Ian.

Picking at Old Scars

As many of my friends know I get these “great” ideas from time to time.  But there is this one that keeps coming back over the years.  “Let’s make a movie!”  Years later, and several camcorders later too, there is nothing to show for it. It’s my personal unicorn or pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  Most of the time it just ends with talk and no actions.  Part lack of creativity and part lack of stick-to-it-ous. 

So today my mind is wondering at work and it hits me look for lamps on Amazon.com so you can NOW make a movie.  Also Paranormal Activity started the wheel turning again too.  If they can do an $11,000 movie, I can do a $20 short. LOL

I get on Google chat with Lu and say let’s try again, and to my surprise he says sure he got a new camera he wants to try out.  I was expecting an “again?” or “are you going to finish this time?”  He mentions my old script.  This is the closest we ever got to making a movie.  It was a script I wrote years ago while sitting in class one day.  For the record I didn’t like it, and every time I read it I hate it even more now.  Everyone that read it said they like it but refused help edit or improve it.  I want it to disappear from the earth but it is the closest I have ever gotten to seeing a unicorn and don’t want to lose that.

My main focuses of my shame is how poorly it was written, the language used (it was many years ago and I have matured a lot), and it reads like a complete rip off.  So now it’s time to lay it rest and replace it.

So I start my Winter challenges.  First challenge is the Creative Writing Challenge: to write a short script no more than 10 minutes.  Contain little to no special effects and a single room location.  I sent out the challenge to Susan, and she accepted the writing challenge.  This should be fun.

I am also challenging everyone else to accept this script writing challenge and let’s see what we can come up with.

…to be continued.

Unkle Wee-am

I have always held the belief I would never have to be in the delivery room during anybody's child birth. My logic is that there are always more supportive and qualified people available than me. So I had the full intentions of being in the waiting room when I went up to the hospital to meet up with Marco, my brother, and Tasha for the birth of their little girl on this past Monday. But no such luck, I had to step up, be the good brother, and participate in the delivery of my first niece. I use the word participate loosely. For some reason the maternity ward was very busy that day. It was a very interesting experience, so I will give some of my impressions. Why did the hospital have the intern giving Tasha shots? Nothing is worst than hearing the newbie say, "I can't find your vein" before beginning to dig in the your arm with needle looking for one. And then missing. I felt so bad for Tasha. He was trying for 5 mins before his supervisor came to see what was taking so long. Now you know the Washington boys, we was on joke time, joning on the rookie. To make it worst, I couldn't understand a word that he was saying. English was like his 5th language. And the his supervisor came in fusing and English wasn't her first language either. I don't know how they understood each other? Man, they can't have intern practicing on already stressed out women. Tasha was acting tough and told the doctor she ain't want the epidural. I was quick to say if it was me, I would get it. But she wanted to be tough until them contractions got close. Change of heart ain't just a TV show. So I go get the nurse to say she changed her mind and the nurse says the doctor is in the middle of another birth but she will tell him. Later the nurse comes back and say it's going to be about an hour before the epidural, the doctor is in the middle of a C section. She checks on Tasha, she's 5 cm. I swear Tasha went from 5 cm to 10 cm in 5 mins. Halfway to walking to the bathroom, Tasha freezes. And pauses for 3 mins we get the nurse and then me and Marco carry Tasha back the bed. The baby was ready. The nurse jumps on the horn calling for the doctor and some back up. The doctor shows up on joke time. Talking about haha you wanted to be tough, too late for drugs now and something about not getting a medal. My brother thought he was funny, I was just like, man do your job. The nurse is constantly calling for help but no nurses are coming. Must be the big C section everyone is at, Tasha is wide open and the doctor yells for help, "Grab her legs." I go, "Marco, he talking to you!" LOL neither of us wanted to see it. The nurse has the left leg. Marco grabs Tasha's right leg breathing hard talking about he about to throw up, making faces. All of the sudden the doctor makes a quick movement and a ton of blood goes flying. He done cut something! And snatched the baby out. I still shutter thinking about it. I TOLD Tasha and Marco that doctor was too loose. They had a healthy baby. 20" 7 lbs 5.8 ounces (Mom said that was my weight at birth, 7 lbs 6 ounces). 10 finger, 10 toes. Full head of hair like Marco was when he was born. We all was trying to see her eyes, because Tasha has green eyes. I'm convinced that the baby has both Marco and Tasha's lips. Tasha's top and Marco's bottom. Juicy lips. Nurse said she had my nose, not sure about that, but it's ok. The process actually was pretty quick and Tasha handled it like a champ. Proud of her. I didn't take the nasty pictures she wanted, through. She wanted pictures and video of everything and I wasn't trying to see all that. Honestly, I planned on being out of the room. But that's my family and I got their back. Welcome Little Miss Sydney Ryan Washington, the new love of my life. And for those people that get pleasure out of the miracle of child birth... Not for the weak of heart. Part 1: Part 2:

"Bad at Being Good" - Memoirs of Will Wash

I jam the flip cam up in his face. "Hey Russ! You are on the party cam!" Playing the game, Russ holds up his beer like he was doing a beer ad and says, "Old Fuzziwig Ale, it's tasty." Then he takes a sip and then TV smiles for the camera. "That's good Fuzziwig." In return Russ asks what is the device I am pointing at him. So I make a sales pitch back in return, "This is a Flip Cam. For only one hundred and seventy dollars you too can have a camcorder that the size of a cell phone." Even after being with the company for a couple of years now and participating in several company functions this was my first time meeting my co-worker, Russ' fiancee. But isn't that the beauty of company Christmas Parties? She directly asks me, "Who are you?" It was with a straight face and almost rude but not intended to be rude. I loved it after the initial shock from the bluntness. It was a sign of strength and honesty in my eyes. I liked her immediately. I was thinking, yes, I bet Russ is her bitch at home. I wanted to make a good impression on her now. So I began to tell Russ and her about my dream of wanting to be a Wedding/Family Reunion DJ. While in the middle of explaining the oh so important duties of a DJ with animated storytelling and dramatic hand motions, I hear someone call my name. "Will!" I looked around. "Will!" It was Butterfly. That is not her real name, it's one of the many nicknames I have given her. Also the most recent and fitting in my opinion. A butterfly starts off as an ugly dirt worm and transform into an attraction flying bug. But I always imagined a butterfly still sees themselves as still as dirt worm and has trouble accepting the new beautiful transformation. She was sitting over by the pool table calling me over. I was in the middle of a conversation with Russ and his fiancee whom I am meeting for the first time. I can't just walk away, it would be rude. She's a tough lady too. "Will!" She continued calling me. So finally I respond, "Yes!?" "Come here," she says. I ask, "Is it important? What is it?" "Come here." I apologized to Russ and his fiance for having to leave abruptly. Whatever she wanted it had better be good to interrupt me like this. So I go over and ask her what's up. Says her and Sunshine wants to play the buzz game. Sunshine, of course is not her real name. Another nickname to a coworker I have given out. One day too far back to remember she came to work with her hair darken, dark makeup, and black clothing. I joked she looked evil, and have been calling her Sunshine since. I look over at the counter two feet away and see the buzz game sitting almost in Sunshine's arm reach. I ask Butterfly, "Are you serious?" She responds positive. So I ask again before I begin to throw a hissy fit. "You interrupted my story for that?! It's right there! Three feet away! Reach over and you could have it!" She says, "We wanted you to play too." I asked, "Do you realized you interrupted me and called me over for nothing. That is some real hating right there. I was in the middle of a good conversation. You could tell because I was animated and bouncy. That's some real hating, you interrupted that. I asked if it was important. What you wanted could of waited." I stormed off angry. I get back to Russ and his fiancee and apologize again for the bullshit. I ask where did I leave off and tried to continue and make the story worth dealing with the interruption. The beauty of being a Wedding/Reunion DJ is that I would hook up a mic and MC - move the crowd! Also I get to have a cool DJ name. I asked Russ and his fiance for some ideas for my DJ name. I thought they all sucked. We ended on the name DJ Dubs. "This is DJ Dubs on the one's and two's! I needed everyone to stand up because it's your duty to move that booty! I got a brand new dance for you, it's called the Kesley!" I saw Kesley come in to the room and I threw her name in. Kesley was shocked. She asked if I was talking about her. I admitted that I threw her name in there once I saw her, just to mess with her. Kes is my buddy so she plays along and suddenly we had a dance battle in the works that ends with us doing the kid and play dance. I think I ended up making a decent first impression on Russ' fiancée. Mission accomplished. The Christmas party was held at our company's President's house. He had a great setup with a pool table and an air hockey table. I tried my hand at air hockey against Marlon. I was having flashbacks to the old Boys and Girls Club days. I still had some skills. After I played around with Marlon, Travis came and challenged me. He made it clear he wanted to play me. I think it was because I was talking about how much he sucked at playing pool. He wanted some justice, which is understandable. The problem was I had just finished playing and was aware of the need to get away to leave to the next spot. I said, lets just play a quick game to ten. I scored several times on myself and lost pretty bad. It was cool, I didn't think it was that important. Thirty seconds after Travis leaves the Ingo runs laughing. He says Travis said he whooped me in air hockey. In the words of the great crackhead Whitney Houston, "Aww hell to the nah!" I ran Travis down and asked for one more game. It became about pride at that point. I couldn't let him going around bragging about beating me. We played again. I played more seriously and pulled out a couple of tricks. The game face was on. I represented well and won the game in decent fashion. Satisfied with us being tied one game apiece it was time to move on. The plan was to go the Chilli's up the street and hang out. The nice thing about Chilli's it that Dom's good friend Chris bar tends there. When we arrived there Chris was smiling behind the bar. That's was nice, greeted with a smile. But there was only three seats together open at the end of bar and there was four of us, Dom, Butterfly, Sunshine, and myself. Butterfly and Sunshine grab the two seats at the end next to each other. Dom offers me the third seat, I say, “you take it.” We do the back and forth, "no you" thing. Eventually Dom pulls up another seat at the side corner of the bar. I'm stuck with the last seat. I have an issue, I prefer not to sit next to random strange dudes if I have a choice. Sunshine politely offers to switch seats with me after seeing the look on my face. I ask for a beer and begin to space out. I was tired but not really. It was a more of a mental fatigue. While I'm spacing out staring at the rodeo on TV but not actually watching it, Sunshine who was pretty tipsy is hitting on Dom's friend the bartender. Wasn't all that interested, didn't find it amusing or entertaining so I preferred to play Martian. But at some point I looked over and I saw Dom at the end of the bar with a "what are you doing?" look on his face looking at Sunshine. So me being me, I say something to Sunshine. We have a "discussion." A "discussion" to the untrained and non listening outsider could look like a heated argument but it is really not that serious. We both made some points. I said, "That's Dom's good friend. Don't lead him on if you are not serious." Sunshine said she was only playing and it's not a big deal, she was just flirting. Which I agreed with along as he was aware of that. Because he was Dom's friend and it wouldn't be right to lead on some one's friend with no intentions of anything actually happening. While we were having our "discussion," I overhear Butterfly on my left, "Can I get your number for my friend?" Maybe I am old fashion but I don't think someone should ask for someone else's number if they do not plan on calling them. Why lead them on? To my fault, I was "discussing" a topic with a tipsy girl and faulting her with the actions of someone else, Butterfly. Who for the life me, I didn't see how it would be amusing or entertaining to ask Dom's good friend for his number to give to a friend that she knew had no intention of calling him. A funny goofy stranger, maybe that would be entertaining assuming it would boost he's ego. But Chris was Dom's friend that we frequent his bar, who we will see again. Both Dom and I shared the view of inappropriateness. But Dom and Butterfly choose to not to participate in our discussion. They avoid conflict of opinions. Sunshine and I got tired of "discussing" the subject. I saw her point and she saw mine, it was just us going back and forth to keep it going. So when done, I leaned back in my chair and said to Dom and Butterfly, "Let me tell you about my dream now." I texted Sunshine the story of my dream earlier that morning to help me remember it. For the past 10 months she has been the one I text to help me remember my dreams. Sunshine says in a Sunshine tone, "I heard it already. It was well written." I laughed; I'll take compliments when I can get them. I responded, "Thanks, I guess it was ok for just waking up and typing on a cell phone." Sunshine knowing the story I was about to tell, she started texting someone on her phone. I assumed the boyfriend since it was getting late. Hopefully keeping tabs. I turn my attention to Dom and Butterfly. I ask Butterfly if she wants to switch seats. Giving her an opportunity to move away and beside Sunshine. She said no it's ok. So I begun my story, "I dreamed I was downtown in DC at a basketball game. It was weird because when the ball would go down court the camera would follow the ball." Suddenly, Butterfly just get up and leaves. She walks away not a word or a look. I was shocked. I switched to her seat closer to Dom and whispered, "Did she just walk out on my story?" He nods. I was a little ticked by that. That was pretty rude. I was telling a story to her. So waited I for her to get back before continuing the story. I saw she walked off to the bathroom. That makes sense, we was drinking and when you have to go, you have to go. Most people say something first, but understandable. So I waited. She comes back and sits in my seat next to Sunshine since I had moved over. She turns her back on us and instantly begins a conversation with Sunshine. I try to continue with my story with Dom, but she never turned around and it kept bothering me mentally until felt like she was taunting me. I could not concentrate on what I was saying. I really felt totally disrespected. Like I wasn't good enough to listen to or the first lines of my dream was that uninteresting and not worth listening to. "What is going on here?" I asked Dom. "I don't know." First I asked Dom in a normal tone, "Are you serious?" Then I raise my voice and direct it to Butterfly, "Are you serious?! You are not listening to me. You walked out on what I was saying. You completely disregarded me." The rage had been building up by then. I don't think expecting someone listen is asking too much, considering I gave her the opportunity switch seats and not listen. So when I said something about her tuning me out, she says because I was talking about shit about Sunshine and didn't want to be part of that. Which was completely and utterly incorrect. She quoted a line I said during Sunshine’s discussion and me about Chris the Bartender. At that point I was enraged because of the accusations and using that as reason to completely tune me out when she was involved in that “discussion” in the first place. It wasn't a "discussion" involving her earlier, she refused to get involved and now she brings it backs and made it an Us verse Them issue. I yelled out so loudly the whole bar must of heard, "See that's where you fucked up! You just fucked up the timeline! You weren’t listening, I was talking about my dream and you are bringing up something from earlier that we was done with. Do you even remember what I said!" Honesty I don't remember any of the other words she said but the line, "I don't care." That resonated and echoed in my head. Those were trigger words to me. It was worst than saying fuck you, because I always care. I can take a "fuck you" but to not care is to treat someone with a lack of importance. To not care about their feeling, situations, words, or condition of a friend is fraudulent and they are really not a friend. So in an effort to not say something I would later regret, I grabbed my jacket and stormed out of the restaurant. I needed to cool off because I was beyond pissed. I went out to my car and sat in the cold of the parking lot. In my mind I felt so betrayed. Not because she didn't listen my stupid dream but because out of the coworkers in the office we where the only four left that are close and still hanged out. We are the ones that made it through the drama. I saw and complain about there being a divide between the four of us already. Butterfly and I have a great relationship, as long there isn't someone else with an opinion around. Then she chooses sides and it’s never mine. Sunshine and Butterfly was a team against Me and Dom, Omid, or whoever there was. But both Sunshine and Butterfly proclaim that the divide does not exist. But that is exactly what just happened. It was Me verses Them and I didn't know it and I didn't start it. I sat in the cold thinking. I knew by her tuning me out after an animated discussion with someone else that she voluntarily didn't involve her in she had made a decision and was not really impartial like she proclaimed. And the tack in the shoe was that Sunshine and I were cool, I thought we were ok. I didn't saying anything more about it, we was done and on another subject. But somehow in Butterfly's mind, she had the illusion that there was a conflict and I was the enemy so she walked away and tuned me out. While I sat outside, Butterfly came out. I don't think she even knew why was upset, it was beyond her. So it was for me hard for to take her words as real because they were contradictions and empty sounding. While she talked, I was thinking how she sometimes confirms and never denies the fears I had about aspects of our friendship. She had just divide us and separated us when less than an hour ago she said there wasn't. And even a week before that when Sunshine and me had a misunderstanding of vibes. I asked, "Can you remember anything I said?" She responded, "You said something about basketball and an alley." "Basketball, yes. Alley, no. You wasn't listening." Because you had already written me off, I thought. I had gone against Sunshine and therefore I was the bad guy. Who cares about the bad guy? And I recalled the number of times she has said, "I don't care" to me. It made the heart heavy. I would never say that to her or anyone I called a friend. It was cold outside. She was shivering and offering nothing but presence. I don't think she could of made it better if she wanted to, the damage was done. I offered my jacket and when she refused I started to go back inside. Momma raised me right; even pissed off I don't want her freeze to death outside. While walking back she kept saying, "You are going to think what you want to think." Funny thing is, that sounded a lot like saying I don't care. It's a cop out when you don't offer an alternative thought. Butterfly is her name but on the walk back, there was no flying in my eyes, sadly she slide like a snake. I felt like betrayed like Adam and Eve. I was told world was in color only to find out it’s actually black and white and color is a theory to keep the nuts happy. "You are going to think what you want to think." I was looking for another thought, because my thoughts were so negative. But I must have been right. If someone tells you they don't care enough, you would be a fool not to believe them even if they recant later. When words contradict what do you believe? The actions? Well the actions just finished speaking. Sides were exposed in her mind and I was on the wrong side, I needed a beer. With my thoughts suppressed, I sat back down at the bar. Dom and Sunshine was chatting it up. That made me feel better. Butterfly was looking ticked off and Sunshine notice. At that point, I was my turn not to care. Since I was told I am going to think what I want to think; I wanted to think she was upset because she thinks I'm being too sensitive because I don't bottle up when some I thought was a friend disrespects me. I don't think I am too sensitive, I think it was pride and self-respect that was tugging at me. But that didn’t matter anymore because I was given a pass to think whatever I wanted. However, truthfully, it didn't make me feel any better learning the worst about someone you thought you shared a respect level. Only to reconfirm the fear - at least while no one else is around. I was the "I understand where are coming from friend as long as I don't have to support you in public, because you are a bad guy." It was hard not ponder that if a "friend" had no part of an argument and don't know the facts or results but still choose to separate themselves from me. I figured I have a pretty bad reputation. In an effort to get beyond the whole thing because I shouldn't have been surprised. I was just let down by the fears becoming reality. So I offered to tell my dream again. After me making a big scene at the bar, maybe she would actually listen this time or at the very least I would have something to talk about while Dom and Sunshine chats it up and minimized the awkwardness. "I dreamt I was down at a basketball court in DC. We were watching the game from cars. And when the ball would go down the court the cars follow like a camera. In the car in front of me is a girl I used to go to school with. I barely knew her. Just knew the name and face. Well she called me over in to her car. And we ride through DC. We get near Military Rd and I say 'I live right over there.' We get out and start walking. Her car is remote controlled. While we walked her car was moving up ahead of us. The car ran a light by my apartment and got T-boned and lead to a 3 car pile up. We couldn't go check on the car because people would know it was her car. So we went to my apartment building. There was bunch of shady people hanging outside the building watching the police and crash scene. We try to sneak past but they are being nosey. I try to crack my door and let us slip in but one dude peeks in and sees us and the big screen TV and starts grinning. I set all the locks on the door. Then I guide her upstairs so we can see the accident and the car. My apartment turned into a 3 story loft. So we get to the top of the stairwell and she turns to me and says, 'I can't let you see my ...' There was no word in the dream. So I say, 'We can do this face to face.' And I sit down on the top of the steps. She sits down and straddles my lap. She starts grinding and then on adjacent stairwell a gang of people start walking up. A lot of people. I have this girl on my lap, I’m startled and I yell over, 'How did you get in here?!' The guy in front shows me his hand and he has a black "X" on it. Like it was made with a sharpie for reentry in to a bar. Then he says a key, door, and window. At this point, the girl on my lap bite the meat above my cheek bone. What I thought was a weird nibble turns into a sharp pain. She starts biting harder. I try to push her off and she bites harder. Then she yanks her head up and tears out a good chunk of my flesh. She must of hit an artery because blood was squirting everywhere. I wipe blood on her face in an effort to get her off of me. I couldn't stop the bleeding and start freaking out. I had to wake up to heal my face. That was my nightmare." Butterfly enjoyed the story; at least she looked like she did. I thought it was a good dream, worth listening to. Not much longer after that Dom and Sunshine turned cold. I think they wore each other out and we called it a night. I wasn't tired and couldn't sleep so when I got home I watched VH1's "Real Chance of Love." I was still bothered by what went down between Butterfly and me. I send out a couple text messages to see who was still awake. I remember Sunshine saying she wasn't tired. Sent out a text saying, "Do you think people are more truthful and honest when drunk?" Sunshine and Steph Lover was still up. Steph was brags about stuffing her face somewhere. And I start venting to Sunshine about how upset I still am. She offers some good insight, but told me I take it too personal. I disagreed, because it was completely about me, which makes it personal by definition. Which I found amusing because Sunshine complained about my stone face ruining a vibe. I joked she takes my serious face too personal and let her go to sleep. Lastly I text my friend about the gayness on "Real Chance of Love" and she co-signs and "P.S." me to stop prank calling the radio station pretending to be retarded. I laughed and went to sleep.

State of the William Address 2005

Greetings, my people.

I know it’s been a long time since my last address. A nigga has been fairly busy, with not much to say. But I cannot let a year go by without an address because it just wouldn’t be right. If you are reading this then you might notice that it is not in the form of an email. I got this blog site now. Tight huh? No? Fuck you then. I love most technology. And this is some underground geek shit. As some of you know, I wanted write a book, but that is to much work for a nigga on an 8th grade writing level. So I started a blog.

A blog is a website for which an individual or a group generates text, photographs, video, audio files, and/or links, typically but not always on a daily or otherwise regular basis (Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blog ).

It can be used for headline news, entertainment news, or editorials. It’s like an online journal but not a journal or diary because they are pretty gay. Blogs are public forums for people to run their mouth. What I like about it is the multimedia aspects of the Internet. If you believe getting on the Internet is a great way to get on the net, then you deserve a “limp dick slap.” Please stop reading now; this site is not for you.

Now that the idiots are gone, have you ever heard of podcasting? No? That’s ok. I know niggas are new to com-pu-ters and they are easily confused by them.

Podcasting is a term used to describe a collection of technologies for automatically distributing audio and video programs over the internet using a publisher/subscriber model. It differs from earlier online collections of audio or video material because it automatically transfers materials to the user's computer for later consumption; it is one example of push technology. Podcasting enables independent producers to create self-published, syndicated "radio shows," and gives broadcast radio or television programs a new distribution method (Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Podcasting ).

What about the iPod? Do you know what that is? Yea- it’s the white walkman 50 cent had in his video. Anyway, iPods are mp3 players and they use iTunes software instead of windows media player. You can use iTunes to automatically subscribe to my page. Most bloging, podcasting, vlog sites are boring (except “The Family Guy”), but you definitely can see the potential for it to catch on. Personally, I like being able to combine text, audio, and video to give the full Will Wash experience.

First let give credit to Dan for the name of the site, “They Hate Me Because I Ask The Hard Questions.” The hard questions are the hows and the whys. The perfect example was earlier today when I was watching Maury. I know, I know… But it’s like watching a car accident; you just can’t look away. Anyway it’s was a ho-ish girl episode. This chick gets on TV talking about how she loves her boyfriend and they plan to get married soon but she had to tell a secret first. I know… I’m thinking the same thing, her ugly ass was lucky enough to get a nigga to promise marry her ass, she need to keep her mouth shut and run with it. But nah, she cheated and wanted him to know that the baby may not be his before they got married. Come on… Now she needed a “limp dick slap” too. Maury should have given it to her. But here is the hard questions; one, why are you telling him now on public TV? Two, if you love him so much why did you cheat on him? And why don’t you know who the real father is? Now you know, I got “the gift and the curse” of a wild imagination. I’m watching TV thinking, this bitch’s excuse has got to be good. Something like this, “Ray Ray never likes to try new things. I couldn’t help myself. I was over Craig’s and dem house, drinking and shit. Next thing I know, I got four guys standings around me their dicks outs. Each way different and they all look so good; so I had to try ‘em out. I counldn't help myself. The dicks were calling me. Ray Ray never invites his boys over to run trains on me. I just wanted to try something new, Maury.” And Maury loves up that ho-ish behavior. He’ll ask Ray Ray some shit, “How do you feel after 8 years of loving and paying child support on a little nigga that even yours?” The best part is how he asks the audience who the baby looks like, like there is an audience full of experts in baby looks. If I was Ray Ray, I’d be like, “Bitch. you lucky you ain’t take me on Jerry Springer. I’m fitting to whoop you and Maury’s ass up in here. Embarrassing me in front of my family and friends.” Maury really does deserve a punch in the face. Yes, in the face. A punch, right there, square in-the-face.

I think, I’m a pretty good tipper. I like to give 20% to 30%. I mean, come on, people are doing something I’m to lazy to do or don't want to do. I hate people that be like, “That their job.” Granted it, maybe it is their job but it also should be their job to treat you like shit for being you. I wish I had the opportunity, because that is what it is-an opportunity, to spit in somebody’s food or key his or her car for chumping me on a tip. I bet that shit feels real good. Let me ask yall this, should hookers be tipped for a job well done. I mean they are in service industry.

And why do people like Smallville? The show is stupid. I’ll tell you why I don’t like it. One, it’s a fucking soap opera. It’s like 90210 or Dawson’s Creek, it reeks of gayness. Secondly, they are fucking changing Superman’s history to meet their gaylike needs. This is on some geekynees but you got to be true to the comics. Fuck the TV audience if they are to stupid to read one line and look at the pretty pictures. Superman did not meet Lous Lane until he moved to Metropolis. Stop changing the history. Finally, Superman is a bitchass super hero anyway. The name Superman implies you are super. There is nothing super about that man. A real “super” man would whoop ass, this one doesn’t. Superman is always on brink of defeat before he comes back to win the fight. Triple H, The Rock, and the 1980's Hulk Hogan dominate more fights than he does. Shit Hulk Hogan body slammed Andre the Giant at Wrestlemania. Superman needs to get up on Hogan's level. A real “super” man has to be smart. Superman has never been that bright, he is constantly falling in to traps like a true dumb ass. A real “super” man would not be a pussy; he would beat up the pussy. Superman cannot even pull all the girls he wants. If he was a real super man there should be laws suits and criminal charges pressed against him by the millions of women crippled up in wheelchairs claiming he torn their back out. A real superman’s dick should be public enemy number 2, after Bin Laden of course, and illegal in 48 states. To tell the truth, I wouldn’t even want to be Superman; I'd be a better bad guy. And it’s too much pressure to live up to the Superman name. You have save people and shit. That’s to much pressure, plus I don’t even like most people. I’d have a Martin Lawrence/Dave Chappelle breakdown from all the pressure. Except, I wouldn’t go to Africa to clear my head up. No offense, but the Africa I see on TV is depressing. I’d go to the Philippines and stretch my dollar. I could get 10 pairs of Jordans, 3 whores that fuck for a buck and do something strange for some change, 2 mail order wives, and 3 months of the finest Cambodian breast milk all for 20 dollars. If you want a Black Friday deal, that’s what up.

Yall know, yall drove Dave Chappelle crazy, right. You people made him quit his show and I’m mad at yall for it. All of yall were on his nuts to hard. His body couldn’t take all the dick riders. The show was really funny but it wasn’t like it was the second coming of Christ. It wasn’t that serious. Imagine everywhere you go people are making the same lames ass jokes. He was probably wishing he never made the show. He had to leave the country just so he didn’t have to hear another motherfucker come up to him saying, “I’m Rick James, bitch!” We’re luck Dave didn’t kill somebody. Leave comedy to the professionals. And get over it, there are lots of funny shit out there, get over it. I love the Dave Chappelle Show, but wasn’t that serious. If you think that the Show was the best shit ever and is nothing better or will ever be, you need to be exposed to other shit. Also don’t tell anybody you think that way because you are a dick rider, a nut hugger, a sack lover, etc. And you need to stop your dick riding ways and keep that shit to yourself.

That’s it for now. Don’t forget to enter your email address on the right to subscribe and receive the new posts to your email. No junk mail or weak ass forwards will be sent to you, just my new posts, like the one I got lined up for next week. Also, check out the movies and what I'm listening to- it's the next best thing to the old Will Mixes. I will try to write regularly and add more videos when I can.

Your boy,
Will Wash

State of the William Address Part II (almost 6 months later)

Greetings, my people. Let me start by saying, “Lord, please forgive me for how I may say it but my heart is still good.” Due to a popular response, and I think people might actually care; I am back with the State of the William Address. The state of the William is tired. Times are tough but we must stay the course. The war on terror is going to be tough, re-elect me we must stay the course. Oh shit, I thought I was Bush for a second. People go out and vote. The shit is not a game this year. Get the dumbass out of the white house. After 7 months the 3rd DVD release is done. After much advancement and several editing redoes, it is nothing like the first 2. It is over an hour long and has a lot of special features. It is the most technically sound one to date and Chalmer is using his high tech computer setup to make labels, I’m boosted about that. However, almost all of you motherfuckers will never get to see it. Why?! Don’t be shocked. As always, it is because of the content on it. On this disc, I am mostly making fun of myself (I wasn’t really scared. I was acting). This shows the extent of my sense of humor; I can take jokes a well as I give them.

As I said earlier, the state of the William is tired. I am tired. Physically tired, a nigga has been getting no rest. The “surrender me now” isn’t working. I got shit bottled up. So little things get me pissed. Motherfuckers tend to think it’s funny when I get pissed but it don’t be funny any more when they are on the receiving end of my pissnessity. I’m tired of censoring shit on my DVD releases; cause someone might get their fucking feelings hurt. I’m tired of having to watch what I say. I’m Will Wash bitches, that’s what I do, I make people cry. The people that knew me way back know the Will you know now is nothing like the Will from the late 90’s. I haven’t had beef with anybody in years and that’s cool, great even, but I’m tired of being extra careful about what I can say. If you can’t take a joke then get the fuck out my face.

Also I’m tired of the devil fucking with me in my sleep. In dreams, I be chillin in white tee. Not a throwback cause I be looking clean in my white tee. And I see the devil looking at me. That shit fucked me up. On the real, I think that nigga was hating on my white tee. So I was like, “What the fuck you looking at?” Yall know how I do it. “Why YOU in MY face?” But get this, why that bitch say, “Who put that monkey in a T-shirt?” Ain’t that a bitch? Can you believe that shit? The fucking devil had jokes. A crucial one at that. And the worst part, the shit that got to me, is he said some shit I would say. Damnit, I’m tired of getting fucking harassed by the devil in my sleep. Why don’t that nigga take his gay ass on and steal some souls and shit. Or go give George Bush another bright idea.

I’m tired of there being no limit on ignorance in America. I’m with you, Meraf. Fuck undecided voters. Dumbass, no thought process having bitches. Why I seen this motherfucking black ass nigga get on TV news talking about A-rabs and shit. It hurt my heart. That shit is ignorant. How hard is it to pronounce arabs, motherfucker. Making black people look bad.

Like I said I’m pissed. Why do I feel like I can’t say shit when I see shit? I felt like I couldn’t say anything when I saw this 19 year old girl sitting there sucking her thumb. Think about it. I know we all thinking the same damn thing. This bitch suck dick. Come on, any women stilling sucking her thumb over the age of 13 is or will be a dicksucker. She will need a cure for the oral fixation. I wanted to say something so bad when I saw it. And I wanna say something to all these niggas standing around with their mouth open, especially motherfuckers with braces. People, scratch that, Niggas/Black people need to start breathing through their noses. Stand there with your mouth open makes you look REAL primitive. Like using 2 hands to drink out of a glass. God gave you a nose so you wouldn’t be standing there looking stupid with your mouth open. And it will help with that bad breath problem (and it’s not just the braces people). I got to start telling motherfuckers about their breath that shit is Iraqi style torture. Women need to take that natural hair shit back to Africa. That pokemon bush hair cut ain’t cutting it. I know some of yall are mad but that shit must be said. Niggas don’t need S-curls and perms. Bitches don’t need bushes and fades. Lets keep the line between the sexes. Be mad, come at me if you want. I did go to a BLACK school. I got crooked bush and shape up jokes for weeks. And the federal government needs to classify Nextel subscribers as a cult. Trying to talk to them about services is like trying to talk to a Mormon or Jehovah witness. No hope of change and they be recruiting. How can you be black and not like big lips?

Why do motherfuckers think Jadakiss is deep after one song? Why? They are the same motherfuckers that like that dumbass movie Belly. He really ain’t say shit. Why? Why is it everyone else’s verses on the remix deeper than his? Why? Why do all niggas look the same? Why is it that all niggas do is wear jerseys and wife beaters? Why do Chalmer thinks his bootleg movies from Blockbuster are official? Why? Why do motherfuckers wait til they’re old and shit to start smoking? Why do heads think the government made weed illegal cuz “they be hatin”? Why do people think G-Unit is cool? Why is them niggas named after a ape? Why would anybody buy their shoes? Why don’t they niggas just go solo so I can like them (except for banks)? Why is that R&B boy Lloyd the gayest nigga on the radio? Why? Why hasn’t everyone seen Fahrenheit 911 or the Passion? Why the fuck would you bootleg the Passion of Christ? Why hasn’t Luan learned how to work the camcorder yet? Why is it necessary to be all up in my face? Why? Why don’t motherfuckers think it’s a little gay to be running a G? Why do they feel comfortable with so many dicks out in the same room? Why do Tuan and Burke stay in adventures? Why hasn’t Meraf been on the Real World yet? Why hasn’t she let me record her audition tape? Why? Why do we have to wait till half of Latisha and Damelia friends leave till we have fun? Why do people get scared to speak when I come around? Why did Tressa call me a crazy nigga? Why? Cuz I wanna know.

Signing off until next time,
Your boy Will Wash.

Don't mind the anger, I'm always like that.

Best Kept Secrets:
The City of God DVD
Akon CD
HBO’s The WireCheck them out.

State of the William Address (it’s the takeover)

Greetings, my people.
I know I have been scarce recently. But a nigga been busy catching up from 2 months of slacking off and ain’t being about shit. Do not fear, I still have 2 weeks to pass all my classes but the 4.0 average is definitely gone. I’m like Nas, I’m take care of everything in foul swoop.

After brief excitement of buying a new amplifier for the car, the state of my car is still the same. It is still junky and dirty. And it sounds the same, because I broke the amp in a record of 4 hours. Tuan beat that. On the topic of broke, my new camcorder is still broken; the repair shop had to order a part for it. Hopefully, it won’t take 8 weeks like my Sony amp. With no camcorder that means the short film will be put on hold until I get it back. Luan’s scenes have been shot. The rest of you niggas (Chalmer and Tuan) have to match his strong performance. Also there will be no new DVD released anytime soon unless anybody wants to see some of the old clips still on the hard drive (except for the one of me singing the thong song). Meraf, when am I going to get my 8mm back? Now, is Will Wash going to have to choke a bitch? The weather is warm; we got to start hitting the park up for lunch again. Chalmer, Tuan, Luan stop being selfish let a nigga know when yall trying to play ball. Luan don’t forget about the video game. I still need some models for it. Don’t make me press you out too. Take a time out (from the porno), and work on that shit. Tuan, I heard your bitch ass been practicing, but it won’t change the fact I knocked your ass out in the first round. Lights out, BITCH! Even Chalmer’s mini-me (the retard kid at the park that be saying, “YEAH!”) can last past the first round. Go get Burke and Cosigning Sean for help cuz I’m a monster on the Playstation sticks. Any game you want, nigga, any game. I ain’t one of them weakass online bitches. Everyone needs to stop calling Chalmer Semi from Coming to America. That shit is too funny. Pay your tickets nigga and stop breaking the law. Oh and by the way no one has ever seen you play ball in white air force ones (fuck Nike). Don’t make me call police; tell your sister to stopping calling it ain’t my baby. I always pull out with her (ah sket sket sket). Now say something else about my momma. Plus you guys need to decide who going to be Charlie Brown. Fight it out. Damelia and Latisha thanks for the two months of fun. But yall need learn that when you start getting sleepy and you actually fall asleep in a club, I might need to start thinking about going home instead which bar to go to next. Damelia, be nice to Burke please. We know that nigga has a drinking problem, so you are invited to the intervention so you can tell how it make you feel when he drinks and fucks up your name. One a serious note, you need to talk to your cousin (the one who keeps forgetting to cross her legs in front lesbians and Cee-lo Green the soul machine in a Tina Turn skirt), Chanelle, about her driving. I am really concerned. I hate to see yall die so young. I’m learning how to do the whop and break dance just so Lilly can’t talk about my black ass’s lack rhythm. This ain’t B2K and I ain’t trying to be served (I seen them Asians on the dance machine up in Dave and Busters). LaTisha and Tressa. Don’t be scared, no just yet. But if yall don’t start speaking to me (and I mean more than a hi), I’m put yall on the spot with the camera. Don’t be shy around me, no one else is, so don’t be. I had my hustle men look for you a new camera ever since you told me at Chalmer’s house. If they can find a $50 dollar playstation and $20 gamecube, who knows what else is out there (it might be hot. So hot, that shit it might even be your old camera). Last but not least, Burke, Tuan, and Sean need to lose the beer goggles. Leave the fat ass mud mucks alone. When sober you all know better. And stop encouraging niggas to be rappers. Everybody can’t rap.

I think that’s enough to keep you guys mad at me for a couple of weeks. I know yall got something to say, then say it, don’t be bitches about. You know the number, I paid my phone bill. Or send a reply (to all if you’re tough good enough, no weak shit). And No, Tuan and Chalmer, you did nothing of the sort with my momma. The only one hitting it is my daddy.

It’s a textbook and Blockbuster weekend bitches, have fun without me. But when I’m back, it’s on.

Still the top dog, number one shit talker,
That Nigga Will.

Now tell me how you feel.

It the takeover, son!


I still rap better than Sean.
1st round knockout, nigga!