Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am

This one's about bad driving, chaos, and C.R.E.A.M.

"You are being driven around by the worst driver ever.

Wow...I don't know about this. What up y'all? Lemme preface this entry by saying I just tried to take a nap, but my eyes are buggin' hard after everything that's gone on in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  forum since noon today. Madness. Chaos. People paying to have other people eliminated from an event. Other people paying to stay in the event. It's complete mayhem. I'm glad I'm not runni- ...

Damn. Never mind. My name's on the header of the forum...so each time gift points change hands, I get an email. I'll likely be over 200 new emails received about this before tonight is over, and there's about 48 hours left total before this whole round of chicanery for fundraising is over. I feel like I just ran a damn marathon with my eyeballs. But I'm not complaining. Publicly. Yet.

Anyway, on top of that, how about a blog entry as well? Sure, coming right up.

I've cheated death three times in car accidents. No lie. I very easily could not be here today were I seated differently in the back seat when my buddy's car got clipped by a pick-up truck's plow in a snowstorm, or were I not wearing my seat belt when some jackass decided to make a left in front of me on a busy road, or had I not flinched when my girlfriend at the time lost control of her car on an icy road, sending us right into the path of a tree until my knee knocked the shifter into neutral while bracing for impact and we safely slid to a halt with inches to spare.

And now I'm realizing that none of these situations has anything to do with bad driving on mine or my friends' behalfs.

While I'm sure it's happened that I've ridden shotgun with someone who was utterly incompetent behind the wheel, I'm having a hard time picturing a specific moment. I can imagine how a short trip to, like, a supermarket or the mall would go (and by "short" I mean 20 minutes tops, because when you're in Buffalo you can go just about anywhere locally within 20 minutes...that's kinda how we measure things) though. Join me for a bit of imagining.

I'd get picked up, and immediately you'd hit a curb or a trash can or some shit while angling into a tight space. No harm, no foul, especially since it looks like the degree of difficulty is sorta high in an awkward parking lot. It happens.

We'd hit the main drag and start talkin'; catchin' up on little shit and whatnot, and then I start to notice that the more you talk, the more you look at me. And the more you look at me, the more you start driftin' between two lanes. I jokingly tell you to knock that shit off, because I don't wanna ride with someone who might get me killed. But it's cool...we still got mad love for each other. [Side note: Never say to a girl you're just friends with that you "got mad love" for her too, even if she says flippantly, "Awww, I love you!"...that's a bad look homie, and that will definitely earn you some kind of awkward lecture about how she doesn't "love you like that", even when you already know this, bruh. Trust me...it's a trap to make you look and feel like an ass.]

So after you get your shit corrected and make the obligatory "look, my hands are at 10 and 2!" joke that I find to be not funny, I start to settle in until I realize that you've just realized that we've missed the exit/driveway/stop sign, and all hell's about to break loose. Everything gets kinda grey until we've come to a screeching halt on the lawn of a Taco Bell, when I can feel the vein pulsating in my forehead against my hat and I'm trying to pry my knees out from the glove box. I look over at you, and as I'm about to only mouth the words "What the fuck just happened?" because my vox are frozen out of fear of them being sliced by the windshield, you're motionless. Your hands are gripped at 10 and 2 like that's all that's keeping you on this earth from floating into the ether, but your eyes are already looking ahead as if you made it there for the first time. It's almost magical. This is what it's like to walk to heaven in a dream.

Until I punch you on the shoulder so fucking hard that you recoil into sadness and dead goldfish despair while I start screaming about multiple ways we could've just died in a split second as I'm using all the swear words. And five minutes later, when we're at our actual destination, all is forgotten when we start people-watching and making fun of those who aren't like us to ourselves, because you're my friend, and I got mad love for you.

"The Soundtrack of Your Life" 

I'm still tryna make sense of what all I saw go down in the 30DBC forum this afternoon. Lotta WDC currency changed hands. Brother Nature 's gonna hafta keep Andre's consulting firm, T.R.O.O.P., on retainer to figure out this accounting logistical nightmare.

And when I tried to take a nap to clear my head from it all, this song kept playing over and over between my ears. I couldn't shut it off. The refrain is simple- "cash rules everything around me"- but the verses are intricate and deep. Meaningful. I would bump this cassette maxi-single from my old Plymouth Horizon, the first car I ever owned.

When you're strugglin', sometimes you've gotta do whatever you can just to survive. You make the tough decisions, because if you don't someone else might, and chances are you'll like that a hell of a lot less. For a lot of people, cash is king. It's what makes the world move, as much as we might hate to admit it...try puttin' it on your spouse or your deities or your faith to pay your bills each month, and see how far that gets you with your creditors. I'm not mocking religion; I'm just sayin' doin' nothin' but hittin' your knees for thirty straight days prolly ain't gonna pay your rent.

It's not easy when you're low-income...which makes people feel all the more rewarded when they start payin' bills with a little bit left over each month. That's when you know things are lookin' up for you.

I love the Wu-Tang Clan. Nine dope mc's with sick, spooky beats mixed with snippets of kung-fu references. Yes, when someone mentions kung-fu, I get all Jennifer Aniston in Office Space   on them. Can't help it...would you like to try my Wu-Tang sword style? Let's begin!

"Survival got me buggin', but I'm alive on arrival."
Lyrics.  

Did you know there's a Wu-Tang name generator  ? Mine's Drunken Swami. Try it and post yours in the comment box below.

I don't think gangsta rap made them do it  . We had a saying for these people back in the day...Thug Lite.

There's undoubtedly going to be a lot of run-up this week about the movie adaptation of Fifty Shades Of Grey, which comes out on Valentine's Day. Maybe you've even read the series, and can't wait for this, because you live in a world without access to porn. I'm guessing, however, once Hollywood gets the rights to the Fifty Shades Of Buscemi   franchise, minds will be blown and box office records will crumble like cheap lingerie bought at Target for a random one-nighter with an almost-important member of society.

And that's all I have to say today, friends. Mad love. Peace, same damn 'Lo sweater, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!