I’d like to make this a regular thing discussing other funny things that have happened throughout Atlanta, but right now I’m just stuck on the hoodness of the local hip hop station. I’ll just enter this how I heard it. The context of this conversation was someone had called in to the radio station and won a contest. I’ll start the conversation right where I tuned in to the radio station so it will have the same effect on you that it had on me. At first, I felt kinda sad for the person, but then I realized that she was just ridiculous. Here it is almost verbatim to how I heard it:
Caller: “Oh my goo’ness! I won! I can’t believe I won!”
DJ: “Yeah, girl! You won! How are you feeling?”
Caller: “I can’t believe I won. I’ve had such a hard week. We’ve been really struggling with money lately. My kids and I were just evicted from our apartment on Monday. We had to move back in with my grandma. Winning something like this just turned my whole week around!”
DJ: “I’m sorry to hear about the eviction, but I’m glad you were caller number 9!”
Caller: “Oh yeah! I can’t believe it!”
DJ: “Alright girl, since you were caller 9, you won that dinner for 2 at The Cheesecake Factory! What’s the radio station that hooks you up?!”
Caller: “Streets 94.5!! Wooooooo!!!!”
Yes, that was real life. Winning a dinner for 2 at The Cheesecake Factory was a life-changing moment for an actual human being. I wanted to use this post to write about some other contest they’re running on that station where if 2Chainz interrupts a song and tells you to call in, the first person to call in wins $94. It’s a decent contest, but the way they advertise it is by saying, “Win $94 so you can ball outta control!!” If you can ball out of control with $94, I’m assuming you’re the same kind of person that would go wild over winning a dinner for 2 at the Cheesecake Factory after being evicted from your home. Thank you for staying so hood, Atlanta!
Check out this guap!
The reason I wanted to write this blog entry is because I wanted to talk about how awesome Atlanta is. And what I wanted to focus on was how unapologetically hood Atlanta can be. With this particular focus, I wanted to talk about the local hip hop radio station here in Atlanta. I’ll start with the advertisements from this radio station.
First one is for a company called Tax City. What Tax City offers is getting you a tax refund, even if you didn’t work. I have no idea how that works, but Tax City can get you that scrilla. The best part about the Tax City ad is it’s jingle. Yes, say Tax City in your head, and what hip-hop song pops into your head? That’s what goes down in that jingle. Tax City, bitch. Tax tax city, bitch.These are accountants that have their CPA.’s, which is very difficult to get, and after somehow completing their CPA tests, they have to tell their families that they work for Tax City, bitch. Perfect! Next is an ad for a company called 411 Pain, which is a law firm that seems to specialize in suing people because they got into a car accident. Not because of catastrophic injuries and stuff like that, but because you may have got a dent in your car. Basically, they are catering towards the people that are trying to get their come up because they got into a fender bender. Once again, the highlight of these ads are their jingles. The latest one is fantastic. Imagine Khia’s ‘My Neck, my back’, who’s original lyrics were of course “My neck, my back, lick my pussy and my crack!” Possibly the most romantic song of all time. I think it was on The Notebook soundtrack. Ok, now imagine somehow transforming that song into a song about a law firm that specializes in frivolous lawsuits from minor car accidents. “My neck, my back, my windshield just got cracked!” That happened! There was an ad agency that came up with that commercial for a law firm. How much education went in to having an entire firm of lawyers, and they are being represented by “My neck, my back, my windshield just got cracked!”. Once again, perfect.
The reason I love Atlanta is not because it is easy to make fun of, but because it’s never afraid to be itself. You can ridicule it all you want, but it’s never going to change. We should all thrive to be more like the city of Atlanta. There’s more hilarious stuff I could write about just from the local hip hop station, but I’ll save that for another blog post.
A friend asked me to write a quick story about a funny Christmas I’ve had, so I went back through my memory banks and remembered the time I got the worst gifts ever. I thought I could write a funny little story about when I got it, but now looking back, as terrible as the gift was, it may have been the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten. It gave me the gift of being a better person.
I was about 9 years old, and my parents were going through a rough time financially. They let me and my two older brothers know that they might not be able to buy us gifts for Christmas. My brothers understood, but I was a little annoyed. I only got 2 days out of the year to get gifts, and my folks had cancelled one of them. I grumped around the house for a while, but generally kept my disappointment to myself. I didn’t want to come off as a whiny shit.
Christmas day rolled around and my mom woke me up to say Merry Christmas, and she pushed this huge box into my room. I was all excited because I realized my mom tricked me and actually got me a gift. I ran up to the box and ripped it open, and I looked in and looked back at my mom with a very confused look. I reached into the box and pulled out a fake plant which I’m pretty sure was decoration somewhere else in the house and about three or four throw pillows for a couch. I put the items on the floor and stared at them for a little while and wondered what kind of reaction I should give my mom. A fake plant and throw pillows? Really? Why is she giving me shitty housewarming gifts for a Christmas present? I wanted to pick everything up and throw it across the room, but then I looked up at my mom and saw the disappointment in her eyes that she couldn’t get her baby boy any Christmas presents that year. I ran up to her and gave her a huge hug and thanked her profusely for the gifts. I took the plant and put it on the nightstand next to my bed and placed the throw pillows on to my bed like they were my new stuffed animals. At that moment, I realized being a wanting person is not a good look. My parents provided for me year round and kept me alive, so why did I need them to ever give me gifts just because it was a specific day? I should just treat everyday as a gift.
That little gift I got when I was 9 I believe molded me in to a better person. It’s better to give than to receive is just not a cliched line to me, it is how I live my life now. That day, my mom just wanted to give me anything, and just that little gesture, now matter how insane it was to give throw pillows and a fake plant to a 9 year old boy, was all I needed. And because of that, that is how I treat everyone I know. To this day, I spend the most money I have on getting my folks presents for their birthdays and Christmas, but I could give them anything and they would be happy. Actually, my dad is rarely happy with what I get him. He hates my taste in clothing. How could he want me to return a triple fat goose coat?!
Well, here we are. You’ve come along on a journey with me from talking about grooming your anus with Nair to me ingesting the germs of hundreds of men after sucking on an ill-fated titty, but our journey together has finally reached its destination. This will be my last post. With this post, I will give some parting words of advice. I’ll be serious for this one. My advice is to take time out of your busy schedule and focus on a craft. Stop being such a pussy.
Oh, are you scared no one will like what you wrote? I don’t care. If you like it, that’s all that matters. You wasting your talents is a lot worse than giving them a chance and having them fail. Some of your ideas may fail, but Tenacious D refers to that phenomenon as the ‘Cosmic Shame’. There are no guarantees with creativity. If you can only do things that require guarantees, then I guarantee that you suck. There is nothing more tragic in the world than wasted talent, except maybe how bad the NY Mets are.Whether you think you can write the next great novel, a great movie script, the next ‘Call Me Maybe’ or even a gay poem, just go ahead and do it. You don’t need motivation from anyone else other than yourself. No one will believe in you unless you believe in yourself first.
A wise automobile once said ‘Grab Life by the Horns’, and I live my life exactly like that. Yeah, I could be farther along in my life than I am right now as I’ve failed at everything I’ve ever tried up to this point, but the journey was worth it. I hope you feel the same way about our journey together with this blog. Have a good life, everyone.
Sike! I’m not going anywhere!
Ever walk down the street and then a random thought of something gross or embarrassing you did pops into your head and then you shake with douche chills? Oh, you haven’t? Yeah, me neither. Hindsight is 20/20, but seeing myself look like an ass is always crystal clear. If I had the ability to go back in time and change something, I’d even go back and change the little things that I’ve done that disgust me about myself to this day. I’ll tell a quick story about something I’ve done that I wish I never did. It wouldn’t make a very impactful change in my life, but it would help me from randomly wincing out loud when I’m sitting on a bus and it pops into my head.
As most gross or embarrassing stories begin, this one also starts with shots of tequila. The setting, the blackest strip club in all of Atlanta. Hindsight here is not 20/20, it is 36-24-36. The sound of booty claps make the club sound like an indoor terrarium that has simulated thunderstorms. We arrived at the club at around 3am, so the girls left on the floor didn’t seem too enthusiastic. I, of course, showed up full of pith and vinegar and tequila. I was ready to party. I sat down in a chair and asked one of the fine young ladies at this gentleman’s club if they would give me a gentleman’s dance. As she was very unenthusiastically giving me the dance, I kept looking up at her for something more. Suddenly, she grabbed her titty and gave it a quick lick, and then continued dancing. With the courage of the alcohol in me, I meekly asked her, “Hey, can I go next?” As soon as I pronounced the ‘t’ in ‘next’, she had hurled her titty into my mouth and then continued dancing like I wasn’t even there. Her breasts were real and gravity hadn’t been too kind to them, so she pretty much threw her boob into my mouth the way you would cast a fishing line into a creek. As soon as the titty went into my mouth, I immediately wanted it out. It tasted like Patrick Ewings gym sock. I then realized it was 3 am and her shift probably started 6 hours before, so the sweat of dancing for all those hours was covering those breasts. Also, if she was so willing to throw the titty into my mouth, how many other mouths has it been in? I didn’t want to embarrass her, so I discreetly grabbed her boob while she wasn’t looking and I slowly removed it from my mouth. The song ended and she left, and that’s when I went over to my friends and chugged all of their drinks to get that taste out of my mouth. I went home after that, covered in my own disgust of what just happened. When I woke up the next morning, I had the flu. I was the first person on planet earth to ever catch the titty flu.
I wish I could’ve shared something profound about how I’d go back in time to kill Hitler or stop the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., but I really wish I never got the titty flu. It was gross.
also, if anyone wants to read more stories from my life, check out http://bennysamuel.tumblr.com
Oh Toadies, why did you give such an awesome song such an unfortunate name? I’ve always told my friends that I’m not afraid of anything….except monsters. Well, that was not entirely true. Possums absolutely terrify me. I’m certain they are spawned out of the beard of Satan himself. If you think they are cute, we will never be friends. I’d throw holy water on you every time I saw you.
The fear for the possum began when I was in high school. A few friends and I were driving along the road acting the way kids do when they’re driving their car around. During our trip, we saw this shadowy figure walking on to the road, when all at once the shadow disappeared and a possum came walking out on to the road. I was certain it shape shifted, but my friends in the car assured me that it was just the ‘late night’ having an effect on me. The possum turned its face towards the car, and my headlights shined bright off its beady red eyes. I was slowing down as not to hit it, and then we saw that it had already been hit by someone else. It’s intestines were hanging out of it’s mouth and were dragging underneath it, but the monster kept walking forward. It’s almost like it got hit by a car and brushed itself off and was like, “Oops, got hit by a car. Caught me slippin!” We stopped our car and saw it just cross the road and then go back into the woods. To this day my friends and I recollect the time we met ‘The Devil’s Opossum’.
So because of that one incident, I will never trust another possum again. They are the walking undead to me. If I see one on the road now, I won’t just speed by it. I’ll turn my car the opposite direction and drive as fast as I can while saying the Lord’s Prayer. I’m also afraid to play the Toadies song because I’m afraid it’s their anthem. I just picture a group of possums jamming out on guitars and drums, and one on them singing into a microphone with a bandana wrapped around it. Actually, that seems kind of adorable. Oh no, get the holy water!
A friend told me that today’s daily prompt was to blog about something I’ve done that I’d never advise anyone else to do, and that itself inspired to create this blog. I was going to write about how one should never Nair their own anus, but I decided to tackle a more serious topic. College kids, just because you have your whole life ahead of you doesn’t mean you should live your life like you have your whole life ahead of you. Stop listening to people that tell you to take time off from school to ‘find yourself’. You won’t find anything.
Guess what, there’s not much more of yourself to discover. The only thing you’ll discover is that you think that you won’t need school. I’ve done this. I took a semester off and got myself a job in the real world, and it was a pretty good job. I worked for IBM and I thought since I got my foot in the door with the company that I’d just be rapidly promoted until I became the CEO by the time I was 35. That did not happen. I was working the same job for 4 years making the same money and no other opportunities within the company were ever offered to me. That’s when I looked at my coworkers that were doing the same job as me, but they had children that were my age. I thought I was so young that I’d be able to keep pushing forward, but these guys started at the same age as I did and decided to run with it as a career. That’s when I decided to quit my job and try to get back into school.
After taking those four years off from college, it was very difficult to get back into college. They needed high school transcripts and reasons why I took so much time off and I had to take all kinds of aptitude tests to see where I would fit in. Since I was no longer in the groove of being in school, it was a sudden shock to be back in. Getting back into the way school works and how even when you get out of class you still have work to do was a very difficult thing for me to get re-accustomed to. I’ve decided to procrastinate as long as I can to get back into school which led to me being a huge procrastinator in school. Just like everyone told me, I thought I had plenty of time to finish school, so instead of pushing myself and getting it done as quickly as possible, I decided to take only a few classes per semester and was just stuck in school for way longer than I wanted to be.
What this led to was being being stuck in a rut of perpetual school. By this time, all of my friends had graduated from college and had real jobs, and I was stuck being a student. My friends didn’t take the advice of finding themselves and by the time they were 25 they had real jobs and could do whatever they wanted to do. They were the ones that really had their whole lives ahead of them. They were still young, but were able to support a lifestyle of true self discovery. They could afford to go on vacations around the world and enjoy their 20’s, but I was stuck in the library because I wanted to enjoy my late teens/early 20s.
So my advice to you guys is this; don’t procrastinate with your own life. College is a lot of fun, but the academics of it are the big turn off. Treat the academics like the vegetables on your plate that your mother forced you to eat when you were a kid. You would eat all the vegetables first so you could just enjoy the rest of your meal without having to worry about eating the vegetables at the end. Knock out college as quickly as you can and then you will truly be able to enjoy the rest of your life. Also, never Nair your anus.