"Here's my ten cents and my two cents is free" (c) Eminem

Okay, I'm sure some folks won't necessarily like what I say, but it really needs to be said. (Please note, this is my personal opinion, and if you are sensitive and like this show/movie, you may suffer from hurt feelings.)

SEX AND THE CITY IS THE MOST BORING AND HELLACIOUS SHIT EVER! EVER, I SAID!

I cram to understand the obsession with the sex lives of four pre-menopausal Caucasian females on a show that had virtually NO consistent black representation (save when Blair Underwood was dicking down Foot Face aka Sarah Jessica Parker or when they had the "up the butt" trannies). If that weren't enough, Foot Face made a statement regarding Jennifer Hudson's addition (as an assistant, mind you), because she wanted to be responsible to the African American female viewers. Now, I know quite a few women that live in New York. Most, if not ALL of them, have professions. They are directors, executives, musicians. NONE of them are assistants. So, for the token to be a gopher, really, they could have kept that. I didn't expect her to be a friend, but hell, a professional neighbor, a boss, something?

Let me also say that I found the show itself to be boring as all hell. There were moments that I found mildly entertaining, but never enough to sustain my interest for more than 8 minutes. I've tried giving it another shot now that it comes on TBS, yet, I still combat the desire to commit seppuku when I attempt to view the show for more than ten minutes. Here's my take on it: Samatha's got "the bonus," Carrie suffers from from pediculus countenansus ("Foot Face" in Melanie's phoney baloney Latin), Charlotte is mildly retarded, and Miranda really isn't fooling anyone with that "I date men" shit. WIGGETY WIGGETY WIGGETY WACK!

At the end of the day, people like what they're going to like. That being said, what's up with dragging men to see this. One comedian said that if a dude's woman is trying to make him see this movie with him, he needs to find her some friends, because she obviously has none. Real talk. I understand wanting to do the "togetherness" thing, but really. My theory is that going to see this movie is a test for gateway activity. Don't be fooled men. If your woman gets you to go see this movie today, she's going to "gently" introduce the idea of you getting ass fucked within four weeks. MAX! I envision it something like this:

Hey baby. What's for dinner.

I appreciated you coming to see that with me so much, I made your favorite, [husband food with husband side dishes and beer and shit].

Thanks so much baby.

You know, it's great that you shared that experience with me. It shows that you truly are a progressive brother and you make an effort to appreciate the things that I enjoy. I was thinking that since you are so progressive. . .

Now, this segue will vary depending on the relationship, but it will not end before you've finished a sufficient amount of your first beer and the desired end involves having a rather uncomfortable conversation with your proctologist.

Now, I'm not here to tell you what you should watch. I'm not here to tell you what you should not watch. Simply using my blog for rumination. And warning brothers to protect not only ya neck, but potentially ya ass.

Blogging to Exhale

I'm posting from my BlackBerry, so excuse the typos. I've been attempting to get back into my more organic writing, so I broke out the old composition notebook and started banging out some work.I had some success yesterday, which made me happy. Today, it was a little harder to "flow." I didn't let it stop me, of course, but it was slightly distressing.

One of my favorite CDs is Amel Larrieux's "Morning." Aside from the fact that I have always found her a wonderful talent, the CD came at a very timely point in my life. It wasn't supposed to be my CD. The guy I was dating at the time mentioned that he wanted it, and I bought it for him for his birthday. He kind of dumped me before I had the chance to give it to him, so the CD was mine.

I have this habit where I inadvertently ignore the last song on a CD, particularly when there are quite a few songs that I love ahead of it. So this week, I really listened to the final song on Amel's CD, "Great Mountain of When."

I'm going through some sort of crisis, where I suddenly feel unfulfilled and empty. I believe "lost" is the correct word. Of all the things in my life that I lacked, direction was never one of them.

I acknowledge that I'm not driven in the traditional sense; I'm not ascending the corporate ladder, and such. But I have always handled my business. I've always excelled at my job and enjoyed what I did. I've always fed my literary hunger and never have up on my writing. So this toilet spiral thing that I'm feeling is scaring me shitless.

I'm beginning to feel that, by not taking my writing more seriously, I've cheated myself. My writing, my art, is my heart. As Erykah Badu said, "I'm an artist, and I'm sensitive about my shit." My reasons for not taking my writing to the next level are tantamount to a commitmentphobe halting a relationship. "What if it doesn't work out?"

Getting back to my point, in her song, Amel says:

"Plotting the course
While I'm stick at the bend
Penchant for rocky terrains and dead ends
Wind myself up just to unravel into
A great mountain of when

Predicting a loss
Before I begin
So it don't cut too deep when I don't win
I hate it when I'm right
I'd rather be wrong
I'd rather be wrong..."

I really have to put on my big girl drawers and deal with it.