"It Wasn't Me"....(AN EXTRA ONE TODAY)

"They didn't catch me on tape stealing no boxes" said Craig to Smoky... Classic line from the film "Friday", but still truthful today. R.Kelly said that was not him on that tape. Hmmmm... I'm confused on what to believe these days. It's apparent now, that videotapes just don’t work anymore. I remember Marion Barry on videotape, smoking crack. I remember the Los Angeles police on tape, beating Rodney King. Hilary Clinton getting off a plane with no gun fire, on tape. Obama in church shouting and praising while Reverend Wright was preaching, on tape (hahaha. That’s funny) Now, R.Kelly on tape, using the bathroom on a young girl. Most of these people are free and LIVIN LA VIDA LOCA!! There are so many things that I've done that I've gotten in trouble for and there was no video of it. Which leads me to believe that if we tape our bad deeds then we'll go free. Next time you feel like doing something bad, tape it. You're sure to get off and be free. I'm an R.Kelly fan, but I ain't no fool. Kobe Bryant got off without a tape, but had he videotaped the encounter with the gal from Black Snake Moan, then he may not have even went to trial and won a championship that year. Maybe it's the type of crime. Maybe we all have different levels off what we think is wrong and right. Maybe there are some who think dog fighting or cheating on your taxes are absolute crimes of humanity, while there may be some who feel there's nothing wrong with child pornography. Michael Vick was charged with dog fighting.. Maybe he should been running a prostitution ring with young girls, then he could've got off. Of course he would've needed to videotape it. So it makes you wonder what do you have to do to go to jail these days. I think if R.Kelly was molesting dogs he would've gotten 20 to life. So the point of this is we all need to invest in some camera phones and listen to the song by Shaggy......"It wasn't me"

Thats All I'ma Say About That..pt2!!! Conclusion

Now getting beat up is one thing but with the people I hung around, getting beat up by a white boy is grounds for torment and ridicule. As he swung and hit me I doubled back and tried to find my footing. Surprisingly his punch was more like a poke in the eye. As I tried to gather myself he rushed me. There we were. Black and white, fighting with years of racial tension deep in our hearts. Only we were not fighting over racial equality, or a girl like Paul and Micheal. It was over a number 2 pencil. I don’t think this was part Dr. King’s dream. The gravel in my back began to hurt. I’m trying to keep a mental score in my head about which one of us was winning and I knew that it was my opponent. He had connected on his initial punch (sucker punch) and then rushed me, so by my scorecard, he was up. I could see the footsteps heading toward us from the ground and could hear the computerized voice yelling” YOU TWO STOP THAT FIGHTING”. Zapp was angry. The angrier he got, the more he sounded like Darth Vader. Other teachers came and grabbed us. I’m still thinking about the scorecard and realized that I needed to do something to atleast get a point in before the match would be called. As Adam layed pinned on the ground by teachers, I kicked him in the face. All I heard was “OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH” and that was enough to know that I had at least got an approval point from the judges. Now as we sat side by side in the principal’s office with busted lips and blackened eyes, I realized all this was done to fit in. If I got to get a busted eye to fit in then I’ll pass from now on. We both spoke and actually apologized to each other. It was no surprise but I was suspended for 3 days and to make matters worse, the results had come back. Adam had won and it was all over school that I got beat up. I went back to Mr. Roland’s class(aka Zapp) and he said “SIT DOWN”..(I gotta put it in all caps so u can imagine the computerized voice). “ SON, I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING.. I didn’t like the way that sounded and it was just me and him in the classroom. I said..”what is it?”…

He stuck out his hand and gave me a number 2 pencil that kinda looked familiar. He said ”THIS IS THE PENCIL YOU LEFT ON MY DESK WHEN U WENT TO THE RESTROOM AND THEN YOU CAME BACK AND ACCUSED ADAM OF TAKING IT…. I slowly began to put it all together and said” so that means” then Zapp interrupted and said “THAT’S RIGHT SON!! YOU GOT YO A$$ BEAT OVER THE WRONG PENCIL!!!!!!!!!

That's All I'ma Say About That... pt1...

Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name”. I love that song, because it holds alot of truth to it. We all would like to fit in. Sometimes we go about it the wrong way. I’m looking for schools for my son and realize he’s gonna have to fit in. My freshman year in high school was spent trying to fit in. From the talent shows, to my crush on QB, it was all about fitting in. It’s 4^th period in Mr. Roland’s class. He had a talk box in his throat, so I used to call him Zapp. (Sorry, but I did). I had just come back from a bathroom break and noticed my pencil was gone. I asked who took my pencil. Quentin the resident class clown/ cool dude/d-boy pointed and said “he did. He pointed to Adam, the big corn fed country prep football white boy. Now I could’ve just got another pencil, but this trifling voice in my head said” DON’T BE A PUNK, GET THAT PENCIL”. I went to him and said” that’s my pencil”. He looked at me puzzled and said” dude I don’t have your pencil”.

This was the perfect time to reconsider my position on the pencil debate until I Quentin said “man he stole your pencil and punked you out”. At this point Zapp chimed in with “Settle down class”. Mustapha, I don’t want any trouble out of you”. His computerized voice always made me like he was taking my order in the drive through or something. I sat down in my chair pencil less and noticed the alleged pencil thief had his feet on my chair, and to make matters voice here was Quentin again with “oooh, you’re a punk. “He took yo pencil and now he’s got his feet on your chair.” I don’t know why I did this, but I figured it’s now or never to prove I ain’t no punk. I took another pencil and stabbed Adam in the leg. Not my proudest moment, but I thought I needed to make a name for myself. Like a new inmate who does want to get punked during his time in prison, I figured this bootleg shank would establish my name for the next four years in this school, but it didn’t quite work out they way I planned. He’s yells…”what the hell is wrong with you”?. I’m thinking the same thing what is wrong with me, but instead I said “you’re gonna see when we get outside”. The bell rings for lunch. At this point I could’ve just walked the other way and went to lunch, but I was never one to sell wolf tickets. I tapped him on the back as he headed towards the lunch room and said” what was all that &*(&*^) you were talking...He turned around slowly and hit me……That’s all I’ma say about that……………………………………..To be continued.

I Hate My New Phone

I think I’m fine. I think that I’m the best thing smoking. Call it cocky or arrogant, but it is what it is. I didn’t always think that, but after awhile I figured if I don’t think it, then no one else will. Funny thing is I’m reminded from time to time that some would disagree with my way of thinking. Call them haters, non believers, or as I like to call them “those people”. I got a new phone and I’m taking pictures of myself and everything around me that I possibly could. Much like a kid on Christmas day, I was not about to put this new toy down. I was so excited about my new phone that I hadn’t even took the time to put my email addresses and phone numbers in it yet which would later be the reason for my demise.. I take a crazy picture and send it to my friend to edit ( shouts out to Darcey) That was ghetto, anyway I digress. I get a text back that says, “who the ^&%*&% is this”…. I’m thinking why Darcey gotta cuss” at me like that. I responded back with, “you ok?”.. The response I get back said” I was till I got this ugly &^*&^#!* picture”. Who the hell are you anyway”? At this point, it’s no longer feeling like Christmas day for me. I look at the number to make sure I wasn’t trippin before I say some thangs that only a sailor or rapper on a mixtape would say. Of course, “it’s the wrong number”, as I read the digits. I text back.. “I’m sorry, my bad wrong number”. The text I got back said “ Don’t be sorry. I’m now using this ugly ^&^*$ picture you sent me as a picture id for bill collectors so I know not to answer my phone when I see your face.… I’m simply responed” That’s funny(it really was) and God bless them……. I HATE MY NEW PHONE.