I'm Broke

Right now, I am the brokest I have been in years. My "daddy money" has run out, I had to pay rent last week, and I have a shopping problem. These things combined makes for a bank account that is dangerously close to being in the red. Luckily (and because of my shopping habit), I had hella shit to sell to the good people on Ebay. Not so luckily, I have to wait three to four days before my PayPal funds will transfer to my bank account. Fiddlesticks!

***********************************************************************************************************

As some sort of pick me up, I guess I'll regress to eleventh grade and post about smokin' hot members of the opposite sex.



Raheem DeVaughn (or Raheem Dervaughn as Schmoses calls him) looks like a sea creature, but that's not meant to be an insult. Well ... it kinda is. There's no way around a sea creature comment, but that's not the point. The point is that despite the whole sea creature thing, he's hot. Enjoy his chick-friendly falsetto.



If you know me and have not heard my diatribe on how hot Pharoahe Monch is, you don't know me very well. It all happened around 1997 when Organized Konfusion dropped their third (and my least favorite) album. Up til then he was just the really ill one in the group (though Prince Po was certainly no slouch) and out of nowhere comes this slim and toned Monch in the "Somehow, Someway" video. Let me tell ya, I was floored ... and smitten. Since then, OK has broken up, both Po and Monch have released solo efforts, and I have wished, over and over, that these two would find their ways back to each other. This wish may never be fulfilled, but the pure hotness of Troy Jamerson (and his skill, of course) will have me at the local Best Buy for his latest release Desire on June 26, 2007. (Dontcha just love his neosoul fro?)



I love Stephen Marley. For some reason, chicks sleep on him as the cute Marley son. Monica prefers (or preferred) Damian. Ziggy got props back in the day. I hear some give it up for Kymani. And Lauren went for Rohan. Stephen man, Stephen. Plus, he's got those production skills.





Now this is a big one. I have a full-fledged, school girl/stalker crush on this man. Meet Isaac de Bankole, an actor who hails from the Ivory Coast and loves to star in difficult-to-watch films--you know, about racial injustice and stuff. Lucky for him, I'm a diligent fan and will watch him be emasculated, murdered, and generally disrespected by every manner of white folk just to get a glimpse of his sweet ass. He's also lucky that I'm too prideful and lazy to be a stalker; otherwise, he'd have to file some serious restraining orders. He was once married to Cassandra Wilson, which means they both have mutually fantastic taste, but I hear they're no longer together. Too bad; I really liked the idea of them. I've watched many a depressing movie just to stare at him. Take for example Chocolat, not the light-hearted French film starring Juliette Binoche, but the older (1988 I believe) film about racial objectification and emasculation in 1960s (or something) Cameroon. Total anger fest, but Isaac was nekkid in this film, so I'd watch it again and again. (His cheekbones could cut glass.)

Well that's it. I've exhausted my pervert reserves for the day. For those of you who like slightly off-kilter looks and huge lips, enjoy.

RIP Tony Thompson

I just learned that Tony Thompson, the fresh-faced lead singer of group Hi-Five, was found dead outside a Texas apartment complex. I don't have the details, but this is clearly shady business. And strange. All our childhood crushes (at least mine) are dying too soon. They're supposed to get old and embarrassing before they "pass." But no, they're dropping like flies in their 20s and 30s. First Dino of H-Town. Then Kenny from Intro. Now Tony.

I'm really upset. We saw him at the Plaza when I was in high school. (Okay, so I didn't see him, but he was there while I was there.) I loved "The Kissing Game, " and crushed hard on this random dude (not so random, but this isn't about my hurt adolescent feelings) when that song was out. Monica and I used to make fun of Treston's part in "Can't Wait Another Minute." Tony and Hi-Five were a big part of my formative years, and now he's dead. Well, in memorandum ...

Twelve more days of school, most of them ceremonial. As glad as I am about that, I'm pretty sure a depression is coming.

Hot dog Fridays are now steak taco Fridays.

Monica had some seven tag thingie on her blog. I'm taking up her challenge. What follows is seven random songs from my iPod shuffle.

1. Everything But The Girl - Single (Drum N Bass Remix)

Love them, love this, love the album. That Tracy Thorn sure has a voice, and Ben Watt gave her the musical backdrop she needed to make it happen. It what? It who? Her solo album was a bit (a lot) disappointing, but there's always the Walking Wounded album.

2. Bill Withers - I Want to Spend the Night

I love Bill Withers. His "Best Of ... " liner notes reveal that he's the best person ever, and he makes (made) good songs.

3. Foreigner - I Want to Know What Love Is

Okay, this is a little embarrassing but fuck it. IT WAS THE EIGHTIES!!!

4. MC Hammer - You Can't Touch This

Fine, I have some seriously questionable taste sometimes. I assure you that my entire iPod is not filled with fluff and culturally-acceptable dance tunes. I will say that Hammer and friends made some cuts though. Last Sunday, Monica, Schmoses and I
were barrelling down 290 doing dances to Oaktown 357's "Juicy Got Em Crazy." Good times.

5. Toni Terry - Head Over Heels

Oh, the days of yore. Crushes on stupid boys who would grow to be date rapists and fat assholes. Cutting class. Hanging out with friends. This particular tune, from seventh grade, reminds me of the typing class I barely passed. My teacher was Mr. Leibensorger (named spelled so wrong). I can't remember who exactly I was crushing on, but he was probably a nimrod.

6. ZZ Hill - A Message to the Ladies

I love the blues, particularly the early to late-80's, R&B hybrid variety. ZZ Hill was a master of this style. In this song he's letting the ladies know that keeping their men is a "full-time job." Things included in doing a good job? Keeping the hair and nails done, not becoming fat, and serving "it" on the regular. As he says "Coca Cola made it, but they still advertise." Take heed, ladies.

7. AZ f/ Nas - Mo Money, Mo Murda, Mo Homicide

Actually, I say less murda and homicide, but I'll take a luscious helping of this wonderful little ditty (and money). I do love AZ and Nas together and would not be opposed to a full scale collaboration between the two. So yeah, this entire album was it for me. I remember buying it from Coconuts (or was it Sam Goody) in Ford City, and being so anxious to get home to hear it. I haven't liked AZ as much since then, but it's nice to remember the old times.


That's it. I'm off to crash a co-worker's barbecue.

It's Summer! (Sorta)

Hence, the new color palette.

Mosey on over to my other blog. It's about knitting. Sounds fantastic, doesn't it?

Not So Much Creepy As ... Different

This is clearly my theme for the week. I thought I was done, but I couldn't let this one juicy nugget go unnoticed and unblogged about.

One of my sixth period students remarked on my appearance today:

Student: Ms. Weirdo*, you look different today. I've never seen you dress like that.

Me: What do you mean?

Student: You look so normal today. Well, I don't mean ... not to say that you never .... You just dress ... different.

Me: Oh.

Hilarious. And here I was thinking I had toned it down for teaching. Apparently, I still dress like a freak. Through the slacks and teacher sweaters, I still exude a certain je ne sais quoi.

*Not my name, though it should be

Well, at least I'm not as bad as Kool Keith

Creepy Update

Remember this post. Yeah, well I was leaving my classroom the other day and got a nice reminder of my creep factor. My department, the English department, was down the hall commiserating and generally debriefing after a day of dealing with unruly students. (Everyone--all the teachers, administrators, support staff, and students-- is so done with this school year. Let it end already.) So, I walk out of my classroom and I look down the hall, as I am prone to do whenever I exit a room. They all looked up and got silent.

My creepiness strikes again, my pretties.

Also, I've realized that I attract the "strange" kids. Each teacher attracts a core group of youngsters who gravitate toward them for some reason or other. Well, for the past couple of weeks, my classroom has been hosting the "strange" kids, the ones who read manga, learn Japanese, write poems about vampires, darkness or any other morbid topic, and wear all black. I love it. One kid is filming the prelude to The Evil Dead with his friends. Awesome! We all know The Evil Dead is like my favorite movie! Long live weirdos, man. It's so good to know that there's a new crop of awesomely weird awesomes just waiting to take over when my friends and I are done.

That's It, That's All

No more classes
No more books
No more teachers' dirty looks

That's right, dear reader (otherwise known as Monica); I'm done with school. I stayed up late last night typing/writing (yes, at once; i'm quite the procrastinator) my last paper. It's over and done. I am officially done with school. I may never go back. No more degrees.

Graduation is Friday, but of course I won't be attending. I'll be torturing other students who are all too ready for summer break.

If you stumble across my page, PayPal some money to me. Negroes are super broke.

I'm feeling good people. Can you feel it?