Our two girls were down stairs watching WWE.  Downstairs we have a big screen TV.  Everyone in the house likes to watch the Big TV.  We have a total of 4 televisions in our home.  Yet there is constant arguing over the TV amongst the children.  So mid way through their show the 17 old boy comes through the door and tells them to get off the TV so he can watch it because it is his turn to watch it.   I didn't hear the conversation but this is what was relayed to me when I come from taking the 2 year old to the potty.

I tell my daughter to get back down there and finish watching her show. I told them when thir show was over the 17 year old could watch the TV.  I faintly hear the 17 year old offer up resistance to my statement.  So my daughter comes upstairs and tells me he said he is not going to give it up because his mom says his mom said it was his turn to have the TV.  So of course I get hot because I just got disrespected in my own home.

I am at the top of the stairs and he is at the bottom.  I tell him let them finish watching their show and he could have it when they are done.  He tells me no...because my mom said I could have the TV today.  I told him I don't give a damn what you were told...they are going to finish watching the TV.  I tried to walk off then but the he got to running that mouth about how he was still gonna watch the TV.  So I come back now ready to buck and I am super pissed off.  Where in the fuck do you get the balls to tell me what you are gonna do in my house???   So I tell him they are gonna watch that TV and he tried to argue back and I got louder and said who is gonna move them (the girls???)  I wanted him to say something and I would have probably knocked his damn head off his shoulders.   He got pissed and said "mannn this is some ........I guess he caught himself before he spat "Bullshit".

Then he went down in his room and called his mama.  I know this because like 10 minutes later I call her to let her know her son has pissed me off.  Of course she is gonna side with her kids.  "Remember I told you that I was gonna let them take turns watching  the big TV" she says in a tone like I should have already known.  I am like WTF???  She didn't tell me she put the action in place we were talking some days before this day about doing it...but I didn't know she went and did it.  So she is talking to me like I should have known.  So I know I can't even reason with her...so I get frustrated and tell her this is why I don't like getting involved in your childrens life.  She swears up and down on every occasion that she told me how shit is gonna go down...she may have the intentions to do so...but I promise you we never discuss it.  So bring it back to today I hang up on her and turn my phone off.  I am sick of this shit and I know they are sick of me.  

I do have an anger problem and it is why I try not to handle alot of disputes that go on in this house...because I know I get to a point where I am like fuck this talking shit...lets box.  Then I proceed to try and injure a muthafucka beyond repair.  Then I am told I take things over board, I over react.  At times I know I can...but this TV shit has been going on for like 2 weeks.  Constant bickering and whining and shit and they act like they are entitled to some king type shit.  No body ever wants to compromise.  

My whole thing is this. I feel it is rude for the 17 year old to just walk into the house and demand them to get off the TV.  He could have easily said ya'll know it is my turn to watch the TV...when your show is over...you got to give it up.  I would have backed him.  But to come in and be like get off the TV bitches...hell naw.  These are 10/11 year old girls...he needs to be bigger than that...stop being so childish.

I guess all teens get to an age where they feel they can talk shit or try and bosshog a household.  Ya boi wasn't raised to be a Cliff Huxtable type nigga

...I am a James Evans type dad. 

I can seriously tell you they will eat these knuckles if they buck my way. They better learn reverence because this passive trying to stay out of it type personality is wearing thin.

I have heard from many sources over the years saying...do not focus your mind on the negatives of life but on what you want to happen.  You know this is good in theory. I say this because even though you think positive it doesn't mean those results will surface right away.  I try and stay away from the news because all they usually focus on is the negative...but then in the Sunday paper I read about families struggling within these days and times.

We as a family here are struggling just to maintain.  I mean gas is fuckin'  ridiculous, grocery prices is just fuckery, and monthly bills are outrages.  We haven't anything disconnected or turned off; but shit we spend every red cent to stay a float.  The kids don't really get to do too much because niggaz are broke.  Money that could be used for them to go swimming, or to 6 flags...is going towards school clothes and supplies.  We try and do shit around here like play Scatagories, Monopoly or something.  We rent movies, we go to the park but cheap shit is lame after you do it so many times. 

My daughter is visiting me again out here in Denver.  I flew her down from Atlanta which ran us around $300.  I have to fly her back in July which is around another $300.  Her mom is still getting child support out of every check, even when my daughter is in my custody.  The trippy shit is this; her mom tells her to tell me I need to buy all her school clothes and supplies.  I am like mutha fucka do you not understand I have other children here and she didn't help lift a finger to purchase a ticket.  She thinks a nigga is made of fuckin green paper.  I can go on with my vent...but it won't help shit.

I am grateful for my soldier/rider wife.  Man we have been on a fuckin struggle ever since we met.  Every time we get the ball rollin' and shit starts to improve...BAMMM!!!  Another obstacle.  I get pissed at that damn grocery store mannnn.  We spend anywhere between 400-$600 a month in groceries and we still don't have shit.  We don't eat beef or pork...and chicken is like damn near $8.00 a pack.  I gotta complain ya'll.  

We keep on our grind and still we struggle.  Plus where the fuck is a niggas cost of living raise.  They keep raising these prices on everything...raise the $ amount on my check you mutha fuckas. 

The wife was at work.  I am at work driving this cdl licensed truck near my neighborhood.  The time is approaching 3:30 and my son has to be picked up from daycare by 5:30.  I call my sisters and my pops to see if they could swing by, scoop him up and drop him at the house with the older children.  They were not answering my calls.  Time is ticking away...so I make a decision to go pick up my son in the work truck.

I get him in the seat and his two year old mind is fascinated by being up so high, the dash board lights and the camera for the rear view.  I try and drive slowly because there are police out everywhere over here in the Bellos.  Then what do you know a fuckin' cop pulls up behind me.  I am wearing my sunglasses so as I continue to look ahead I cut my eyes to the side mirror and see the fucker behind me.  I got a little nervous like every black man does when the cops get behind you.  I didn't h ave a child seat in my work truck so I got that butterfly stomach.  He goes around me and pulls up to his fellow cops whom were in the process of arresting some body.

As I pull up at my home I see my daughter coming out side and the boy puppy jetted out the door right into the street...barking at a black Lincoln passing by.  The fucker in the car swerved and ran over our puppy.I seen the puppy run up in the driveway; carrying his self with his two front legs and some how gets up on the stairs and back in the house.  I tried to get the license plate number but the car sped off.  I couldn't chase him...because my truck is too slow, I got the two year old in the truck and the car caught the fuck out.  I jumped out the cab of my truck with my son and ran in the house.

The puppy was under the table with them ol puppy dog eyes.  I could tell his legs were broken.  The kids tried to console him as I shouted out about their irresponsibilities of leaving the front door open.  I had to get back to work...so I got the wife on her phone and told her a mutha fucka hit the puppy and sped off.  My wife cried something awful.  She rushed from work to get her puppy and take him to the pet doctors. I got off of work around 5:30 and drove to the doctors to meet her.

She was crying big ass tears.  I seen him on the table bandaged up and high on morphine; it hurt me.  It hurt me bad.  His tail was disconnected from his spine...his legs disconnected, his stomach ruptured and a collapsed lung.  Large amounts of blood was building up in his back; that it look like loose skin with water . He was only 9 months old and we had to kill him.  He was in so much pain that even the operation may not have saved him.  It is costing us $208 to put him to sleep.  It feels like losing a child for reals...until you reground yourself.  The operation would have cost us thousands; plus he would need continual care around the clock.  To watch my wife go through that was heart breaking for me.

My daughters cried and the 17 year old boy is acting an ass lately...trying to talk all tough and shit.  Saying he didn't care that the puppy died.  That pissed me off...The wife told him next time keep his damn mouth shut.  We still have the girl puppy...I know she is wondering where is my brother...but hopefully we did the right thing.  I feel as though we did...but I can't help to wonder should we have tried something different.  It is never easy laying somebody to rest.  I didn't really want puppies @ first...but I have grown attached to them within the past months.  In time I hope Karma catches up with the punk who just drove off after hitting our dog.

RIP in Peace Sunny 

Even when you don't make a choice; you have made a choice.  A couple of weeks ago while in the trenches of commercial cleaning with my aunt and my wife the subject of another business venture surfaced.  My aunt announces by next year she wants to open her own salon.  A salon for men.  She will offer services such as hair cuts and shaves, massages, manicures and pedicures.  I throw out my question..."If I get my license to cut hair you gonna let me work here?"  She smiled and said "yes."  I got excited.

Even though I can draw and do art...I am not producing shit.  I battle every day with what am I going to do with my life as far as a career goes.  I already owe $32,000 in student loans and still didn't graduate with my BA; I got one year left to go.   I thought about law enforcement or a para legal, being a barber, web designer, a minister shit even an old ass porno star.  None the less a desire surfaces of having my own business.  I don't wanna be a labor dude with a cap on my dollar amount.  I want to run a business that I enjoy fully.  The barber thing seems cool...but I did research and them dudes don't really bank big bucks.  As a commercial truck driver I pull in more than $45,000 a year but statistics say on average a barber earns $28,000 a year.  That is kewl if you are single I guess...but with a family and a wife..that shit ain't the business.  At a minimum I want to be 6 figures annually.  

See a weakness of an artist is they are too highly self critical.  I have many ideals of products to produce...yet my rationale and going hard on my skills turns me away every time.  I think I have developed a fear.  I am afraid to spend time and energy pursuing a path and then realize I hate it.  Shit I have already wasted a good amount of time; ya boi will be 35 this year.  I am the result of gangsta rap music and friends, black power mind sets and angry negro mentality.  Without the proper outlet and mind frame you wonder how the hell you ended up where you are. 

Believe me for lack of a better word...I will find my path this year. 

I am on my AOL welcome screen and I see a link stating "I don't give a s**t what happens" 911 operator tells assaulted woman.  I click on the link to read the rest of the story.  Well not a long story by far but it happened in Nashville and the woman was afraid her boyfriend was going to come back.

I don't really want to speak on the story but on the quality of work certain individuals provide.  Maybe it is just generation Xbox.  I have always been raised to put your blood, sweat and tears into your work.  No scimping corners, no half ass work...but produce quality results.  No matter what you do.  You could be a burger flipper, garbage lifter or professor at a major university; always produce quality work.

I work a blue collar job.  Not exciting by far nor is it my job of desire.  Yet, when there I do my very best.  Not to only make myself look good but to leave a positive impression on our clients who pay for our services.  Yet, we also contract out to labor ready to hire helpers to do our lifting and things when the job gets to heavy.  Do not get me wrong...alot of solid good dudes come out of Labor Ready but them young boys are fuckin' weak.  After an hour of work they are tired, whining and very rarely show back up.  We even had one talking out the side of his neck that he would rather rob niggas than do manual labor.  We looked at that mutha fucka like he was a got damn fool.  As weak as his ass was a nigga will knock his out if he even stepped up.  They do shit work...the very minimum they can and a sloppy job at that.  Yet when we get out and help them and make shit right...they feel as though they should get the praise.  They want to get paid  extra money and all that.  I am like dude are u for reals?

The 911 operator should be removed from ever working in this field again.  Fuck what ya think...these calls that come in could be the difference between life and death and you have some idiot who is having an emotional moment be the decider?  Regardless if you like the job or not...you are paid to do it.  So do ya fuckin' jobs!

Constantly on the grind to get this money in a legitimate way; even if being legit is being a slave doing some ol manual labor type work.  In these streets of Denver Colorado is where you will find me; not chillin' but grinding for this cheese.   On a some what cloudy day the hands on the clock are slowly turning towards 2:30 and I am driving this big ass truck with my helper on my side looking towards the sidewalks at all the people out walking. 

We are choppin' it up about about white bitches, mexican bitches and sistas; when we see Robert (a fellow co worker) walking towards the job.  I pull over and Alberto rolls down the window to say what's up!  Looking a little dazzled he turns around and comes up to the driver side " Man I got put out of my hotel room"  I then knew he was going to ask for money.  He gave a sob statement " I am going to have to sleep under the bridge."  Looking dead in his face I say with no emotion and severe directness "I don't have no money man."  He looked away.  I told him hold up let me call LT on the radio and see if he got it.  Lt and I have a transmission going on and Robert says he needs $30.  

Beep, Beep horns come from behind the truck.  I forget I pulled over and traffic was behind me...so I tell Robert to come to the yard.  Lt was pulling up in a truck right behind me; so Robert jumps in the truck with him.  We park the truck and walk into the office to clock out.  No one is in the office so our discussion begins.  I say to Robert " I just remembered I got that $20 tip from yesterday...I will give that to you; but I don't have $30.  Lt says you "gonna give him 20?"  "Yeah"  I say. "I will match it with another 20 then" Lt says.  I ask Robert "will this be enough you only needed 30 right?"  He then says no he needs 60.  I am puzzled now.  I am thinking why didn't you say you needed $60 from the jump. 

I then detect alcohol on him.  The way he was slurring his words and getting overly animated with his story of being kicked out the hotel room.  So I make my way out of the office to go to my car to get him the 20 spot.  LT was on some ol hell naw I ain't given him 40.  Lt just got a new Impala.  He has plans on tinting his windows and putting a DVD player in it...so he is all on some "naw man I ain't got it."  Robert proceeds with guilt trips and begging tactics.  I told them "look here man...I can't keep going around and around with this story...I gotta go get my seed" (son) so I smashed on out.  On my way to the driver seat of my ride Robert keeps re assuring me that next Friday I will get my money back.

While I am in my car going to get my boy...I start to think about Robert.  He is a married man, he just lost his place where he was staying with his wife.  She went elsewhere and he went to a hotel.  They don't get along, although he continually makes excuses for their drama and relationship; I think he loves his wife.  Robert is an alcoholic plus he is 50 something.  He has nothing in place for his future, lives check to check and has habits.  I don't respect his character; but I honor his age and will not openly disrespect him.  He is an elder.  As I watch his life dwindle into shit...This here is the example or a real life individual who lacks discipline and has no clue to where they are going.  He has no true direction.

Lt calls me on my cell and tells me he gave him 40 and dropped him off on the corner so he can catch the bus.  LT is not too happy about his decision to give Robert 40.  He says he knows he ain't gonna get that money back.  I guess Roberts begging tactics worked.  Lt and I talked a good 20 minutes and I told him...man Robert can get back on track if he would just get his priorities straight and set some goals to accomplish. Yet, when you are old and set in your ways...it is very rare to see change.

My younger sister has a boy friend whom is a gang member.  He reps the set 187 Fam Bloods.  My sister through many talkings of letting ol boy go and moving on with her life is a talk she is not willing to hear.  Our concern being she don't bang...she may get caught up in some shit that she don't even need to be in. She still ain't hearing it.

This weekend her boyfriend was shot while sitting at a red light.  Dudes rolled up and licked off.  He got shot in his shoulder and it went through his neck.  He is up in the hospital and may be paralyzed.  We will know soon.  Her boy friend is a good dude in a sense...but growing into a man; he needs to let childish things go.  My sister is going to school to be a doctor that works with dead folks...I just hope her boy can bring something to the table; that doesn't involve them getting killed or him locked up in prison.

I wish him well and my sister sense to see that if she was in the car with him...she may have caught one too.