The Post Game Show

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Just for the night so we can get right....

The precociousness of children is something I find to be one of God's greatest gifts. They ask questions like it's nothing and will be honest just because it's in their nature. You gotta love the "why" questions and the "because" answers pre-school aged children are good for. Surely, we all asked our parents why the sky was blue and/or where do babies come from, and got answers that we didn't figure out were wrong until we were old enough to find things out on our own.

So allow me to relive childhood one time and ask a question that bothers me to no end; Why do jump-offs try to get friendly with me? Oh wait, the new term for side jawns, jump-offs, and smuts is now "Get Right," courtesy of a co-worker. So yeah, one of my current roommate's Get Rights is trying to get friendly with me, but I must set this story up correctly. One of the new female friends I made recently is this gorgeous chocolate girl who's silly as all hell. So as I was leaving work one day last week, she says to me "my girl says you're mean to her." And I'm scratching my head as if Superhead sat on it, trying to figure out when I met one of her friends. She says "Get Right, she messes with your roommate...she's stupid, she's not the only one he messes with." In other news, water is still wet, shit still stinks, and Bush is stil an idiot.

Gorgeous chocolate girl says that I don't speak to Get Right when she's in the apartment, and that makes her uncomfortable. Well clearly, I make it a rule to never speak to my roommates' paramours, just out of common courtesy. Definitely don't want anyone's sloppy seconds or my roommates thinking that I do. So lo and behold I get a friend request on that college student crack known as Facebook, and who is it? Get Right. So my curiosity got the best of me, and I asked why I got the request treatment. In so many words, she said I give her the "why is this bitch here" look (which is my regular look; I never smile) and that she wants to be friends with his roommates.

Perplexed and wondering if I was indeed being a meanie, I had to run this by my guidance counselor in the endeavors of not being stank, Veronica, and she found it uproariously funny that ol' girl was trying to be chummy with her lover man's roommates. So it ain't just me, y'all.

I'd never throw salt in my roommate's game by letting Get Right now that she clearly ain't the only one to walk out of his room adjusting her bra and drawers with the hoodie, sweatpants and Chinese Slippers on, or as V called it "The Walk of Shame." But clearly, jump-offs don't understand their boundaries anymore. You're there to get dug out by dude and let that be that. No speaking to the roommate, who clearly wouldn't mind a little action, but minds his own business.

Part of me still wonders if I'm being mean, and the old me would chalk it up to the no-nonsense gene handed down from my grandfather. One of the things my grandmother said to me often, which probably endeared me to her the most, was that I reminded her of her husband, the man who was brutally murdered eight years before I was born. James "Bud" Stevens, was a man who was about business, and didn't take kindly to nonsense. I guess that's where my middle name comes from.

However, back to the quandry at hand. I ask you, faithful and sporadic readers of The Post Game Show, is your boy being stank? Could he just bite the bullet of envy and speak to the Get Rights that frequent his apartment? Or is he right in the "do you, and I'll do me" vein? Help me understand what I'm doing wrong, if I'm doing anything wrong. Maybe if I was getting right, I wouldn't be so uptight, who knows?

Monday, December 04, 2006

Ramblings of a happy Chris

That's because this is the last week of classes for Fall 2006....gotcha bitch! The last fall semester of my college career, the last semester as Sports Editor of the Hornet newspaper, and the next to last piece of the graduation puzzle. Who knew this year would be halfway over so fast? I sure didn't. Hopefully I can enjoy the spring and end my Del State career on a high note. Either way, since the semester is finally slowing down, expect posts aplenty from me, starting with this one about miscellaneous thoughts in my mind.

Let's start by talking about one my new favorite flicks, She Hate Me. So it took me two years to finally see what the fuss was all about, and I happened to like it. Most people think the plot is whack, the acting isn't that good, etc. Still, I got the message, which is all Spike Lee probably asks for in his films, and the message that I took from it anyway is we all prostitute ourselves in some way daily. Jack Armstrong (I don't think the name was an accident) just happened to use his magic stick to impregnant lesbians and keep his pay up once the shit hit the fan with the company he was employed with. And it wouldn't be Chris if I didn't mention the sex scenes. Yes, they were hot. Especially the first group one where the chicks are all "this better not hurt," "get your hand off my tit and focus," and of course Jack has them all screaming for the deity of your choice when it's all said and done. And Kerry Washington and Dania Ramirez's scene? Can you say cold shower, boys and girls? Good flick overall, I love the whole "Corporate America sucks, Bush is playin' ya'll" symbolism that Spike employed in this one. It's also an allusion to the future if women do indeed get the power they are seeking. Fellas, *in my Bernie Mac Dollar Bill voice* there's gon' be trouble, truh-bulllll....

I love the fact that my body is undergoing these subtle changes that make me feel comfortable with who I am and not getting discouraged if and when the scale tells me something different. Like I've told several people, you can actually see where my wrists end and my palms begin now. You know how they say folks have cankles? Calves and Ankles meshed into one? Well I had "wralms" for the longest time. Not to mention the sort of creases in my stomach that kind seem to be sliding weight off my body. Yes, too much information, but I'm happy to be losing weight and getting in shape.

To take it a step further, I actually have a hard time tearing myself from the mirror these days. I look at myself, my growing afro, my flawless skin (thanks to the fruit and water subsitituting), and my reshaping body, and I laugh, I smile, I pose, I gyrate like Ginuwine during the "Pony" era, it's a trip. But it's good to fall in love with yourself, am I right?

As you've probably read over at Ten95, I've applied for a couple of gigs and I'm waiting to hear back from either of them, just to let me know where they stand. Had I been finishing next week instead of this Spring, this would be a lot easier, but I do remember a mentor of mine saying to start a good six months in advance. I graduate in May, I've been sending my stuff out since November. Yes kids, I do follow instructions. I'm just excited about this time in my life and hopefully the new chapter in my life will include employment at somebody's newspaper as a sports reporter.

And that's pretty much it for right now, so don't be shy, leave a comment. Your boy is back with a vengeance, so I promise I'll be more consistent than Charlotte-Hampton-Pittsburgh Jameil *chuckles*...later folks.