It's Just My Life. Me & My Crazy World.

YOUR FIRED!!!!

2006-08-12T19:06:00.000-07:00

YOUR FIRED!!!! I remember those words like yesterday. My heart was pounding and I was madd nervous but I did not shed a tear. Nah, not me. Not Phillylive. My pride would not allow it. I'm too proud. Fuck all that. I worked too hard. Shit, I looked my former boss directly in his eyes. I thanked him for the opportunity, shook his hand and promptly handed him my ID badge all in the same motion. Then, I rolled the fuck out the office like it was nuff'n...

It was January 2004, my manager had been write'n me up for the last three months for dumb shit. First it was for mismanagement of staff. (I authorized overtime without proper approval from senior management.) The second time, I failed to meet the deadline for the monthly cash report which was a regional report due the fourth business day of each month ( Shit, a nigga like me was absent from work on the 3rd business day & I did not stay late the next day complete the task. FYI, I was a salary employee not hourly and staying late was not an option because I was not getting paid extra for it. Feel me.) The third time, my boss wrote me up for not following the company's "Standard Operating Procedures" and not being able to lead a staff of 20 people. (Actually, the organizaton was incompetent not me. When I first got there my department was collecting roughly 1.8 million a month. By time I left, my department was collecting 2.5 million a month.. Nuff said.)

Anyway, shit was crazy up in there but I was cool wit the situation because I knew the real deal. I had inadvertently exposed my boss in a senior management meeting. Thus, I was viewed by him as a problem and not the solution and therefore, I had to go. Straight up, plain and simple. I put my boss out there and from what I heard, it came down to him or me in a late night meeting that was over heard by the cleaning staff. Naturally, it had to me to go. Shit, he had a wife, three kids and a baby on the way. Me, I was live'n single, fuck'n madd bitches, dipp'n in and out of state and all types of shit . I was a grimey dude back then. Plus, rumor had it we was bump'n the same bunny on the job. Actually, she just hit a nigga off in the conference after hours one day. For real for real, I was popp'n two other chick up in the building. Anyway, since my boss had more leverage with senior management, he simply blamed me for the departments misfortune and then he fired me. But I understood and I cool wit it as long as I could collect unemployment. But this bitch ass, uncle Tom ass nigga, tried to get my unemployment denied. Can you believe that shit? He was a true company man and a real dick head to the end. Fortunately, you boy Philly beat them charges like "Rocky" and got paid for six months.

Flash foward to August 2006 and now I'm run'n shit. I'm a director for health care facility in Jerzy and I'm a so called "Big Shot". Honestly, I never let the title change effect me especially when title did not match the compensation. Matter of fact, the title means nothing to me and I actually hate it so much so that I did not change my voice mail greeting from manager to director until six months after I was promoted. Anyway, my department which consist of all black females has been under staffed for the last six months. Two chicks went out on medical leave and one chick went out on maternity leave. So, on any given day for the last eight months, I was short. Right then and there, I knew it was time for a change. You boy Philly was work'n to hard and I had to make a change. The real question was who had go? HMMMMM!!!!

I had two girls in particular try'n to play me like a fuck piano. One girl named Lisa was just an angry black woman. She had been with the company for like five years and had been transfered three times because she could not get along with her boss. The other chick was named Faye. Originally, I was instructed by human resouces not to hire Faye because she had serious a medical condition. Naturally, I refused to listen. Why, I have no fuck'n idea. Maybe because Faye was just sexy as hell. She was petite and had a nice little round fuck'n ass. YOOOOO!!! Faye use to come to work in high hooker red boots, extra tight, short and form fitting skirts. WHOA!! Son, she wore all that hot shit. Plus that "Mack" lip gloss was work'n. I got to admit she was cause'n me madd grief and I wanted to hit that in the worst way and see her "F#CK FACE"!! I was feel'n this chick. But on some real shit, I honestly thought she could do the job. SIKE.... She just happened to meet the criteria which was someone who had a little bit of college experience and would work dirt cheap ($28,000 per year). Actually, nobody else I interviewed would take the job for that amount of change. Thus, she won the job by default.

Faye was very flirtatious, but she was a quick learner who grasped things fairly quickly. Faye only had one problem. She hardly ever worked a full pay period (80 hours bi-weekly). She also always managed to have some "Sabb Story" as to why she would miss work on the regular. Shit, Faye would come to work late, request to leave early or just not show up at all. That's crazy right!! But she did her job very well and hardly ever missed any deadlines. But on the low, I felt bad for Faye. I knew she was a struggle'n young black sister. She was a single parent raising two kids, she had major and on going health issues, and her baby father was recently murdered up in North Jerzy.

What should I do?????

Stay tuned cuz Philly has left the building....

Am I My Brother's Keeper?

2006-05-25T23:16:00.000-07:00

Peep this. I was laid up in my bed knocked the fuck out and watching the back of my eye lids when to my chagrin, I was rudely awaken by of all people, my raggedy ass, wanna be thug ass, bitch ass brother. I open my eyes and instantly become madd heated. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT NIGGA?? I say to him. He replies: I got a problem that I need you to make disappear. NEGRO PLEASE!!! I can't help you I respond and then I proceeded to turn out the lights. He turns the light back on and quickly begins to explain about how he was pulled over by Philadelphia's finest while he was on a light night mission for some ass. Then is he tells me that the police officer issued him four tickets totaling like $600 dollars. I respond: SO THE FUCK WHAT and NO, I'M NOT LENDING YOU SIX HUNDRED, SO NOW YOU CAN OFFICIALLY BOUNCE. That's not the problem he calmly states. Then he proceeds to tell me that he gave the police officer my name instead of his. WHAT?????? Now, I'm really the fuck'n heated.. What the fuck you do that dumb shit asshole I say to him. He states that the police department has a warrant for his arrest and if he would have told them who he really was he would have gotten locked up. So let me get this straight, instead of handling your business like real nigga you take the bitch route to save your own ass??? YOUR SAMMY THE BULL... YOUR A RAT.. YOUR A MOTHERFUCK'N RAT. WHAT HAPPEN TO DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR NIGGA??

Now, with this dumb ass smurk on his face he states I can beat these charges like "Rocky". Check it, all you have to do is go to court and plead guilty to a lessor charge, pay the fines and roll out. I'M LIKE WHAT!!!! Nigga you done bumped your motherfuck'n head and completely have lossed your mind. I'm not going to court and put my life on the line and risk having my freedom being taken. FUCK YOU!!! He's like man you got to go or they're going to issue a warrant for your arrest. I'm like how do you figure that genious? Then he hands me the multiple tickets which state that I must appear before the district magistrate. Failure to do so will result in my liscense being suspended, car being confiscated and a bench warrant my arrest.

DAMMMMMM!!!!!!! I'm done and with know way out, I contact my lawyer. He gives me two options: 1. Take the heat, go to court and plead guilty to a lessor charge or 2. Go to the state police, rat my brother out, file charges and have him arrested for fraud. HMMMM!!!!! I thought for a second then I said look: I'm not a rat or snitch so the latter is out of the question black. Suspose I go to court and play dumb like I don't know what's going on. My lawyer responds you got a 50/50 chance going that route but mostly likely the judge will not believe you and your going to get stuck wit the tickets. IIght, good look'n I say and hang up the phone.

What should I do????? Either way you look at it its not good.

Be Careful What U Ask 4?

2006-05-13T17:33:00.000-07:00

Some how some way I knew today was going to be a bad day. I just had an erie feeling from the moment I woke up. And like a wise man once told me " If you think negative, then negative things will happen". Anyway, I get up Saturday morning with madd shit to do and not enough time to do it. I need a haircut, an oil change, stamps and oh yeah, I got to meet my real estate agent by 11:00am. Naturally, I wake up late. Me and the General went out last night after work to this spot in Center City for happy hour. It was some chickens in the building but nothing major to grab my attention. So, your boy Philly got twisted instead then shut it down and called it a rap for the night.

I awaken Saturday morning to a phone call. I roll over and look at my cell to see whose calling me this early in the morning. Its my mom. I pick up the phone and she immediately began to cry wolf. I ask what the problem is? She states her tire went flat, it can't be repaired and she riding on a spare tire which is a donut. She then proceeds to tell me she needs two new tires. I'm like okay what do you want me to do? My moms replies: Purchase me two tires and I'll pay you back. HMMMM... Given my moms track record, I know I'll never see this change again because she nevers pays me back. Anyway, I pause for a minute, bite my tongue, then agree to this loser deal and purchase the two tires on the internet.

Now I'm down four hundred and it's not even 9 o'clock yet. WHAT THE FUCK, I yell to myself. Then, I go take a shower, get dressed and breakout to meet my agent by 11:00am. Naturally, that nigga is late. Since I had some free time, I decided to call my new luv jones. She's such a sweetheart and she always listens to my problems. We rap for a minute about this and that and then she some how manages to presaude me into believing I did the right thing with my moms. Finally, my agent comes. I hang up and go handle my business.. We look at about three or four properties of which one of them is fairly descent for the $80,000 dollar asking price. Next, we head across town to check out his last property. Unfortuately the agent gets the boroughs mixed up and we wind up going to the wrong area. He apologized for the mix up and we go our separate ways because he had another appointment at 2:00pm. Moments later, my cell rings. Its the Fugitive and he's got a story to tell about this new freak he just met. We rap for a minute and then I hang up and head towards 69th street to chill out.

I get to 69th street and proceed to park in the parking lot. Since the lower level was full, I decided to park on the top floor by the steps. I go to my favorite spot which is the music hut to see what's new then I order a slice of pizza and bounce. My cell rings again. This time it's the General and he asking me how everything went. I explain to him what went down then for some reason I start bitch'n about how my moms is in my pockets and hitting me up for change. He tells me to Shut The "F" up and deal wit it. I reply: Whatever dog. I can't stack my paper because something is always popping off in my life. It's always something. What the fuck is going to happen next?? The General replies: Man you don't want to know the answer to that question. I'm like nah your right and then I hang up.

I walk back to my car. Everything is everything until I get up to the back of my car. First I noticed my glove box was open. Then I noticed my back window was broken. OH SHIT.. Somebody jacked my fuck'n radio and left my car for bad. I turn around and quickly scan the parking lot looking for anyone acting strange. Naturally, there's not a nigga in sight. Next, I call the pigs (police officers). They show up about five minutes later and then I filed a incident report. While filling out the report, the pig for some odd reason mentions to me this type of crime has been happening a lot lately. GEE THANKS I reply. Then, I get into my car and try to bounce. I put the key in the ignition, turn it but nothing happens.. Now, my fucking car won't start. These cock suckers must have cut my battery wire I say to myself. I pop the hood and everything seems to be intact. Still, old Betsy would not start. Fuck it, since I got a stick shift I push old Betsy down the parking lot's exit ramp. BOOM,BOOM. She starts up and I breakout.

Now, Im off to the auto repair shop to get an estimate on the damages done by these cock roaches. Off the top, this looks like about at least a stack ($1,000 dollars) worth of damages. But the crazy shit is this. My car is a fuck'n bucket that just gets me from point "A" to point "B". Except for the rims and system, my shit is raggedy. Whoever broke in my shit must have been real hungry. Anyway, "Be Careful What U Ask 4" because sometimes your questions get answered and you may not like the answer. Oh yeah, to add insult to injury, while I was parking my car, I stepped in a pile of DOG SHIT.. I guess this was just another reminder that I AIN'T SHIT and I WILL NEVER BE SHIT.

PHILLY HAS LEFT THE BUILDING.....

Justice or Just Us ( The Black Man's Dilemna)?

2006-05-08T21:16:00.000-07:00

I was on my way home from another hard day at the office but instead of going directly home, I figured I'd go check out a property that I seen for sale online. (FYI-Phillylive is house shopping stay tuned)... Anyway, I get to the house and it's a shell (non-liveable / uninhabitable) and the owner had the nerve to be asking $80,000.00 for her piece of shit property. After being momentarily shocked, I jump back in the whip and get on the E-way (expressway) and head back to West Philly. It's like 7:30 or whatever and traffic is light. On my way home, I figured I stop by my moms spot to see if I received any mail (Note, all mail goes to my moms spot because insurance rates are cheaper in the county than the city). I get her house pick up my mail then bounce. Since I was hungry, I decided to stop by the corner deli and to get my grub on. I get to the store, hang up the cell, and place my order.

While I'm waiting for my food, I noticed two funny style niggas approach the building. One cat was like 6'5 or something while the other dude was like 5'6 and dusty looking. The 6'5 nigga entered the building and tried to place an order while the short nigga posted up outside. HMMMMMM... What's wrong with this picture I say to myself?? Then, my spider sense started to tingle. These nigga's are about to stick the joint up. Since I'm not the hero type, I figured I'd slide off before the situation got ugly. (NOTE, THE REASON I FELT SOMETHING WAS ABOUT TO GO DOWN WAS BECAUSE THIS WAS A PREDOMINANTLY WHITE NEIGHBORHOOD & 3 NIGGAS IN THIS DELI AT THE SAME TIME IS CRAZY).

Anyway, it was me, the 6'5 nigga and some white guy in the store. The little short nigga was still posted outside the door. Some how some way, I got the feeling that shit was about to pop off soon, so I tried to get the fuck out dodge before it went down because I did not have my hammer on me. As I began to break out, the undercover police officers hopped out of an unmarked vehicle and rushed the towards the deli with there gunz pointed ready to shoot. FREEZE, HANDS UP, NOBODY MOVE one of the jake yells... Then the little short nigga reaches and pulls a knife from inside his jacket. The undercovers bum rush that nigga and take him down wit the quickness. Next thing I know, somebody pulls my jacket over my head, jumps on my back and trys to take me to the ground. I'M LIKE OH SHIT, IT MUST BE HIS MAN TRY'N TO USE ME HOSTAGE OR SOMETHING. I was momentarily shook, but I was not going out like that black. So I WWF/tossed that nigga to the ground. Since I thought he had a hammer, I did not bother to turnaround and knuckle up, I just tried to get out of harms way. When I looked back to see what the deal was, I noticed the white guy that I was in store with me was screaming to the undercovers that me and the short nigga was together. Naturally, the undercovers point the hammers at me. Now, I'm in the middle of street wit my hands in the air where the cops could see.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON???? I yell to the undercovers. WHAT IS HAPPENING OUT HERE??? I'm in a rage and now I'm try'n to get at the white dude from the store because that motherfucker tried to shout me out plus he made me drop my razor (cell) that I just bought like a week ago for a buck fifty. Fuck all that, I began pushing and shoving but the law was not having any of it. One of the ten cops out there told me to shut the fuck up before I get locked up. I'm like locked up for what??? Mind you, I still had my suit and tie on from work. How could they possible get me mixed up with that riff raft type nigga? I guess all nigga's look alike huh???

I'm out...

MY EX THE END ( The Dear John Letter )....

2006-05-01T19:16:00.000-07:00

Dear Philly,

This may be the hardest letter I ever had to write but I wanted to write you to explain some feeling I am having about you. So many thing have changed within the last few months. For starters, my feelings have changed alot. I know you are a great guy and I love you very much but I am not in love with you the way I use to be. I have been thinking alot about us as a whole and I have come to the conclusion that I do not want to get married anymore. I think the one of the worst things that can be done is to get married when my feeling have changed. The bad part about it all is I know I have been pushing this for a while and it did not happen. Maybe its not in the cards for us. I think what we should do right now is go our separate ways.

As I said, this is diffcult because I know you love me and I know I may never find someone else who loves me like you do. I tried and you tried but when feeling get involve and they change then its a problem. I don't think it would be fair if I did not tell you this. These feeling have been building up for some time. I know you don't agree with some of the things I say but whether I'm right or you're right is not important at the moment. I know its unfortunate things had to come to this but if I am making a mistake I will have to live with the consequenses. Sometimes I think it was not just not meant to be.

Finally, I wanted to write you this letter because for me, things come across better on paper than when speaking to you face to face. You know I always had trouble discussing these type of things with you. Philly, I don't want you to be angry at me or dislike me. I hope after all these years we can still be friends. I feel empty in some ways but then again, I can not change the way I currently feel about us. Lastly, remember you are a good guy and I know many females would love or want to get with you. Please try to remain friends with me.

Love Ebony...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My first reaction when I got this letter was like WHOA, THIS SHIT CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME... It really made me think. How do I respond to this??? What should I say her?? It took me about 24 hours to think of something.

Fuck calling, I wrote a letter back too her which I will never publish so don't ask. My letter to her was not bad, negative or anything like that because that's not my style. I just expressed to her my feeling about our relationship and wished her well in her future endeavors. And, like a real nigga, I ask for my ring back and to date I have never received it. I did not stress that situation either because that a small thing to a giant. I just kept it moving and refused to look back. Ebony has since sent me a couple cards and letters over the last couple of years but I never respond to her. Maybe its my pride thats in way or maybe I was just hurt mentality and physically. Whatever the case may, I'm going to stick to the script. Maybe I'll see her in my next life??? But then again, knowing me, I probably will not be looking for her...

THE END..........

MY EX PART III ( When Things Fall Apart )...

2006-05-01T18:07:00.000-07:00

A couple of months and a few different marriages by her girlfriends went by and still we did not have a date for our wedding. By now, Ebony had become increasingly frustrated with me on the low and I knew it. She began to say little slick sh*t to me about getting married but I would just ignore her. Then, one day, she broke down and said her pops was in her ear about the apparent delay in our plans. Let the truth be told, her little sister had got knocked up by some funny style nigga from North Jersey. Old boy then cut her off and started f*uck'n wit the next chick when she was six months pregnant with his child. Of course, that did not sit well with her pops or mom dukes, so now your boy Philly was under the gun and getting "MADD GRIEF" from her peoples.

Naturally, I was a little upset by the drama and the bullshyt but I tried to stay focused. Then, I got hit with the Tyson ( Iron Mike ) blow. My boss called me into his office about 2:00 pm for a meeting. He got right to the point and explained to me that the department I was overseeing was underachieving and was not generating enough revenue to make the business profitable for the agency. Thus, it would either be sold or closed within six months. HMMMMM.. My life seemed to flash right before my eyes that day. Not only was I having problems at home, now I was going to be unemployed. With no questions or comments, I left the meeting with my boss tighted lipped and head back to my office. Five o'clock could not come fast enough that day.

I went home and waited for Ebony. She got home late because she was getting her hair done. I sat on the edge of the couch try'n to get my thoughts together. Finally, Ebony came home. I explained to her what had went down at work. She looked perplexed when I told her and did not have a comment. She was literally speechless. About a week later, I ended up in the hospital for couple of days. I was admitted to the intensive care unit. My blood pressure was spiraling out of control and I did not even know it. I was diagnosed with hypertension and promptly placed on medication. Shit was getting crazier by the minute for me, but I was just try'n to maintain and see it through. Luckily, my high blood pressure was caught in time and I did not damage any of my internal organs.

With the wedding kinda of sort of on the back burner our relationship soured. Ebony was merely going through the motions. We began to agree to disagree about everything. Also, I noticed she was either calling or going home on the regular. THIS IS CLEARLY NOT A GOOD LOOK I SAY TO MYSELF....

To be continued...

MY EX PART II (UNRELEASED)...

2006-04-17T15:30:00.000-07:00

A year or so after I proposed to Ebony, she found a job in Philly and moved. Since she was a suburban chick and not used to dangers of the city, I found a nice little apartment outside of the city limits. Her parents, especially her dad, were a little uncomfortable at first, but when the saw the area they quickly realized that there are some decent places to live in the Greater Philadelphia area.

We spent our first night together making love all night in our candle lit bedroom. SHIT, THOUGHT I CREATED PHILLY JR THAT NIGHT. Although I consider myself to be very romantic, this was more of an accident than anything else. My dumb ass forgot to call the electric company and get the power turned on. The next morning or should I say the next afternoon, we unpacked and tried to settle in. Everything was everything and I was not even mad she took up all the closet space with her clothes. Although I must admit, it was a little awkward waking up with someone in the bed with me everyday. I WAS USE TO KICKING BEOOTCHES OUT BY 6:00AM. Except for occasionally wanting to hangout with my squad and coming home all hours of the night, I quickly adapted to cohabitation. No more getting numbers, no more hitting South Street, Delaware Ave, or the Plateau looking for chickens. No more dip'n in and out of clubs look'n for women. I was good. The woman of my dreams and my future wife was waiting for me at home all day everyday.

We got along well. We seldom argued about anything. Truthfully, I can only remember one or two disagreements between me and Ebony. This was a far cry from my parents and how I grew up. My peoples argued about damn near everything until they final realized that they were not meant for each other and separated. It was my parents agruments that made me always want to work things out if or when we disagreed. Since money was the biggest issue growing up in my household, I thought it would be a good idea to split all the house bills 50/50 between me and Ebony. Unfortunately, this did not sit well with her because in her household, Ebony's father paid the mortgage and her mother paid for the utilities, food, and etc..

The reason her dad paid the mortgage was because he made more money then her mother. In our household, we both made the exact same amount of money. The only difference was she had more personal expenses then me. We compromised on how we would run our household and we even included a clause just in case one of us blew up. This compromise was huge for me because my dad was abusive and became violent during agruments with my mother. During one of my dad's classic beatdowns, I made a promise to my mother that I would never hit a woman. To date, I still have never hit a woman and I'm proud of it.

Planning our wedding was the next obstacle. I really did not want to get involved to heavy with it so I let Ebony handle that situation. She was a little upset with me at first, stating I had a nonchalant attitude about this big event. To me, the wedding was more of a show then anything else. I was more concerned with what was going to happen after the lights were turned off. Anyway, we spent hours going over various different places, tasting food, making a guest list and etc.... It finally came down to two places and they both were nice. One place overlooked the river and the other place was an exclusive country club. The only thing left for us to do was to pick a date for our event.

To be continued.. Philly has left the building..........

MY EX (UNRELEASED)...

2006-04-13T16:56:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not Phillylive was engaged a few years back and now that I think about it, I probably should have married this chick. Of course, hind sight is 20/20 but this woman was my everything. She was all I could ask for and more. She was beautiful, smart, and very sexy. I met Ebony back in college at a Greek party in 1991. She did not step to me directly. Ebony was real smooth but some what shy. She sent her girlfiend over to do the dirty work and holla your boy Philly. I took one look at Ebony and it was a DONE DEAL.. Things moved between us pretty fast. We were friends, lovers then a couple with two months. Matter fact, my line brother said and I quote " You are going to marry Ebony one day".

I remember our first date like it was yesterday. I had twenty bucks in my pocket and we were in the mall. Next thing I know, we end up at a restaurant because she was hungry. She must have been read'n my mind & knew I was broke because when the bill came she said it was her treat and pick up the tab like it was nuff'n. You know I was a shook one because Ebony caught me totally off guard. But that was just the type of person she was. She always looked out for a nucca. She hit me off with food stamps, picked me up for class, washed a nigga clothes, she did everything. (Note, everybody had food stamps at State. Don't laugh, thats just how it went down. Niggas was broke) We were a beautiful couple and a lot of people was hate'n on us and try'n to break us up. Even though Ebony graduated a year before me because I was a super senior, we refused to let the distance end our relationship.

My senior year was hard. I had a lot of shorty's was try'n to get a me but I managed to shut it down and be faithful to Ebony. And that was very hard to do especially at a historically black college. Very Hard... Anyway, I made it though and graduated a year later. After graduation, I headed back to Philly to look for a job or whatever. I found one a few months later but I was not a happy camper because Ebony was two hours away from me to the north. We broke up once over the first four years but love brought us back together. We would meet twice a month in Jersey for about another year or so and then it was time for your boy Philly to step up.

I took some change from my saving account and broke out to Delaware because its no tax on anything. I did not know much about jewelry but by the end of the day I had an engagement ring and a wedding ring. STRAIGHT LIKE THAT... I did not even tell my peoples or my boyz. A week later, I showed up at Ebony's crib ready to do the damn the thang. It was like two o'clock in the morning and we just got finished making love. My heart was pounding and I was madd nervous but I looked Ebony directly in the eyes and said the following: Ebony, I truly love you. You are my everything. You are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the woman I want to grow old with. You are the woman I want to have my children. Ebony, will you please marry me. Her eyes filled with tears and she said yes as I put the ring on her finger.

Too be continued.... Maybe..........

BEEF (Next Time I'll Go 2 the White Man??)

2006-02-05T04:19:00.000-08:00

Phillylive got beef mannn and here's the deal. About three weeks ago, my old ass computer was acting up and for some odd reason, it would not let me connect to the internet. My first thought was to simply buy a new computer but my dumb ass (being cheap) waivered and thought it could be fixed. So one night, I went to the store and grabbed a forty of MGD (Miller genuine Draft) and tried to fix the problem myself cuz I'm a genius on the low. After f@cking around for the better part of three hours, I knew the problem was bigger than clicking a few buttons. So what do I do, I called the bruh's (my frat brothers - the Mighty Men of Omega Psi Phi, Incorporated). I called my man Cat Daddy to get a referral. He sent me to this bruh call the Worm who was his assistant dean (the nigga who pledged him). Me and the Worm linked up about an hour later and I dropped my computer off at his crib. Mind you, this nigga was visibly high as kite and smelled like a blunt but I trusted him anyway on the strength of Cat Daddy.

Two days later and I don't hear nothing from this weed head. On the third day, I decided to call this nigga. I left a message and still no reply? Fuck that now I'm MADD.. I called Cat Daddy back and started beef'n wit him. Cat Daddy explained that the Worm was a good bruh. Finally, on the fourth day, I reach the Worm on his cell. He tells me my computer is fixed and I can come pick it up in a half hour. I'm like bet. I shot over his crib immediately to pick up my shit. He was outside his apartment building smoking when I arrived. We shook hands, rapped for a minute on some other shit and then he was like its fifty bucks for fixing my computer. I'm like cool but something told me to make sure my shit worked before I left his crib. So first, I was like what was problem. The Worm struggled to explain himself. Then he said my computer was not set up properly but all I had to do was click a few buttons. HUH, CLICK A FEW BUTTONS. Nah homie, I did that already, you click a few buttons. He could see that I was agitated so we went into his crib. He plugged up my computer and starts taking me though the motions of what I need to do. I'm like damn Worm you are charging me fifty bucks for this bullshit? Then, I noticed he did not have a phone line plugged in my computer. When I questioned that, he went and began looking for one. It took the Worm like thirty minutes to find a jack.

Now, I'm heated. Why? Because if it took him thirty minutes to find a fuck'n jack that could only mean that he never plugged my shit up to see if it actually works. Long story short, my shit was not working just like I thought. He played with it for about an hour before I finally decided to grab my computer and bounce. Next thing I know, we are in the parking lot having a Mexican stand off because he still wanted me to pay him for looking at my computer. I'M LIKE FUCK ALL THAT. YOU DID NOTHING SO YOU GET NOTHING. NIGGA WHAT???

To be continued...

Game Over?? I am Officially Done...

2006-01-31T18:40:00.000-08:00

Fuck it man, its a wrap. The game is over and I am officially done. I am retired from pimp'n or whateva you want to call it. Damn it, I refuse to chase the cat. So much so that I recently deleted all the women numbers in my phone book in my cell. And yes it was difficult MANNNNN! So don't ask. I felt like a crack head after deleting chick after chick which translated to hit after hit. I must be crazy or something because I do not even have a shorty or nuff'n lined up. I'm just tired yo. Tired of the bullshit. Papi, I need my hair done. Papi, I need my toes done. Papi, can we go out for drinks. All this for what?? So that the midnight marauder could stick and move. F-it, I am going back to the basics when I just had one shorty and my life was less complicated. Feel me..

Am I crazy for doing this or feeling this way?? Maybe, but I am going this route for personal reasons. Plus, I don't have nothing to prove because I have been there done that. And my man the Fugitive confirmed my belief. See, I originally I thought I was grimmest nigga on the planet but after Saturday night, I realized that the Fugitive has got me beat hands down. Why??? This nigga gives a shorty a fake name, a fake address, and a fictitious job. The only problem is he decides to use her computer, go online and make a purchase of some sort. Brilliant idea right! When he disappears on this shorty for like a week, she gets worried and some how manages to remember he was using her computer and ultimately tracks him down. She knew everything he told her was a lie but he still manages to sleep with this shorty on a regular basis. How?? DC - DICK-CONTROL. Now, she has turned into a stalker and who needs that??

Anyway, Phillylive is done. I am in search of my soulmate. Of course, people who know me or are close to me think that I am going to go back to my ex. To be honest, she is probably my soulmate. I know she was my superwoman. SHIT, she meant the world too me and somedays, I do find myself thinking about her, me and us and what should have or could have been? HMMM.. Then, I wake up. That situation is a done deal.. And even if I saw her today, I don't think we would get back together unless it was marriage, kids and the whole nine yards. DAMMN... I'm starting sound like my cousin Mr. Slish - "Gigolos Get Lonely Too"... Fuck it, I'm going to the Tit- Tee Bar to get me some unconditional love...

I'm out......

My First Time (Reminisce Wit Me)...

2006-01-07T17:35:00.000-08:00

Yooo... I was in the supermarket the other day minding my own business when I heard these footsteps approaching me. When I looked up to see what the deal was, I noticed it was my ex-girlfriend from high school. DAMNN.. She was looking so good I wanted to eat her in reverse. So you know, the smooth operator I am, I immediately tried to put myself in scoring position. Mind you, now that I think about, she was the first girl I ever had sex with. WOW.. I was such an amateur then. I did not know what the f@ck I was doing with her at all. But then again, why would I. Its not like my dad or my brothers taught me how to get it in. It was more or less trial and error with me.

Anyway, I stepped to Diamond. Hey you, I say to her. Long time no see. She smiled and replied I know. Her voice instantly sent chills through my spine. Maybe it was the lip gloss? Maybe it was her painted on jeans? Or maybe it was those hooker type boots she had on? Whatever the f@ck it was, it made me lose my concentration and she knew it right away. I could not put my words together for shit and I could not think straight either. Next thing I know, she hugs me, kisses me on the cheek and whispers in my hear that she was getting married. DAMN.. I was momentarily crushed but I managed to give her a fake smile by the time she decided to let me go.

Getting married huh?? I say to Diamond. She replies yes. WOW.. I guess that means you are going to be a grown up for real. She just looked at me an smiled as if she knew something I did not know. OK, I say to myself. Whats that look all about?? Then Diamond proceeds to ask me do I remember the first time we had sex? I purposely hesitated then responded. YEAHHH but why? Then she asked me do I remember what I did like I was not there or something. HMMM.. I remembered that I did not eat that p@ssy and I remembered that her breath was questionable at times. OH SHIT.. Then I remembered that I had accidentally left the condom inside of her and she went to work with it. Naturally, I played dumb and acted like I had no recollection of that embarrassing moment. Anyway, Diamond smiled again and said that she always had a crush on me and that I will forever have a place in her heart. HMMM.. my "PHILLY SENSE" is tingling. I knew something was up but I could not put my finger on it.

Finally, Diamond says before she gets married, it is a good possibly that she might want to sleep with me again. WOW.. I was blown away. Diamond is going to let me crack those thighs again? What should I do? I did not responsed to her but I managed to slip her my number. Now, the ball is in her court. STAY TUNED???

What is Real Money?

2006-01-02T17:43:00.000-08:00

First and foremost, I would like to wish my fellow bloggers a happy and prosperous new year. Now, with that out the way, I must tell you about the encounter I had with my frat brother try'n to run game on me at the frat house. I know hustling is truly an art form. Some niggas have the gift to gab but most niggas don't. And its the niggas that don't have the gift that kills me. Anyway, my want-to-be hustle'n frat brother decided to select me. Maybe it was the baggy jeans and fitted baseball cap ( my I don't give a f#@k look) that brought this n@gga in my direction. He comes up to me and my crew and proceeds to introduce himself. Then, he singles me out and ask me a question. What is real money? So, I look at him and think to myself this must be a trick question. Then, I responded. There is no such thing as real money. The money that people carry around in their pockets or have in their saving or checking accounts are merely promissory notes. They are literally worth nothing; however, they are assigned a monetary value by the federal reserve bank. Note, the federal reserve bank use to back these promissory notes by gold and silver but this is no longer practiced. My frat brother then proceeds to pull out these silver dollars and attempts to explain his conspiracy theory about how rich white folks are using there money to purchase these silver dollars which at some point in time will be worth double or triple there face in the future.

Now, some other n#gga, who must be part of the scam, asks how do you obtain these coins? Then, my frat brother begins to ramble on about these seminars he conducts once a month on how to obtain these rare coins. Naturally, the seminars are not free. Peep this, the seminars cost $55.00 to attend whether you are interested in purchasing the coins or not. I guess this is cost to do business? HMMMMM...

By the time he finishes his speel, I'm looking at this n#gga like he has completely lost his f#ck'n mind. He must have been reading the look on my face or something because he cop an attitude with me like I was not susposed to figure out his game. With that being said, I ask that motherf@cker a question. Do you understand the time value of money? Naturally, he did not have an answer. Now it was time to give him a quick educational lesson. The time value of money simply means that a dollar today is going to be worth more today than it will be tomorrow. For example would you rather have a hundred dollars today or would you rather have a hundred dollar in 1986. Think about it??

My next move was to blow up his conspiracy theory about these silver coins which he insisted would double or triple in value at some point in time in the future. So my question to him was this. How could your silver coins double or triple in value if it has a stated value on each coin. Son, I said to him, your dollars are not making cents. Wouldn't it be smarter to purchase the preious mental itself instead of purchasing a coin that has an implied value? DUHHHH!!! I must have struck a nerve or something because he started yelling at me like I was susposed to get scared. Okay playa, I say to myself, now we got beef. So I grabbed the nigga by the collar. Needless to say, they broke the shit up before it got out of hand. But was I wrong for grabbing that nigga? He was like 6'3 or something. And I refuse to let that nigga intimidate me. So I got at him WEST PHILLY style. What a way to start the new year.

I Had no Teacher....

2005-12-29T15:59:00.000-08:00

Whoa... I got a lot on my mind these days. There's a lot I want to talk about but before I start talking about my myself and why I am the way I am I figured I must give you a little history about me. Of course, its the abridged version and some things are purposely lefted out. Sorry, it is what it is but it should be enough information for you to draw some sort of conclusion.

Anyway, about five years ago, I went to my family reunion in South Carolina. To my surprise, my mother's family history was well documented. I quickly learned the origin of my mother's maiden name which was the direct result of the slave trade. According to the records, my great, great, great grandfather worked in the fields. His master did allow him in the house and he eventually earned his freedom and became a farmer. He was never married but managed to have five kids (4 boys & 1 girl). One of his sons, who I would assume would be my great, great uncle had 19 kids. He too was not married. This is where I think the playa type mentality originated from on my moms side of the family.

Now my father, who is deceased, was a little bit of a mystery. He was an immigrate who mirgated to this country sometime during the early 1950's. Although his paper work (passport) was in order, there was a secret about him that I would not discover until I was in my mid twenties. From what my aunt's and uncle's have told me, my dad had two or three children prior to him coming to America. He never spoke about them and to this day, I have never met them. Surprisingly, he did mention to me to he has a son in Florida from a previous relationship. He also mentioned that I might have a sister who coincidently is two years younger than me and lives around the corner from where I grew up (Note, since my dad never took a paternity test to confirm this, I do not acknowledge her as my sister but my brother does. She had ample time to find out the truth but never did). Now my mother, prior to linking up with my dad had a child from previous relationship also. The only difference was that it was known fact.

My parent's union produced two kids. So, growing up all I knew about was the three kids living in the house of which, I was the youngest. One big happy family right?? Wrong. My oldest brother broke out and moved in with my grandmother when he was in the eight grade. Meanwhile, my parents argued about everything but it mostly seemed to be monetary. Later, I would find out that my father just ran the streets. But what I did know was this. My father was abusive and one day I guess my mother decided enough was enough. So she decided to leave him. With this, came my first big decision. Who am I going to live with???

To be continued....

Up Close & Personal

2005-12-26T11:51:00.000-08:00

I started writing a blog after a few guess appearances on slishslash's blog spot. Slishslash is my cuz'n from NY and we talk alot about every thing from women to money to cars to life in general. Whats the point of a blog??? I don't know yet. Maybe its a way for me to exercise my demons. Maybe its a way for me to get advice from others whose life might parallel mine. Either way, it's just real talk and good conversation. Its what brothers and sisters need.

Anyway, I grew up in West Philly. My parents were together for about 13 or 14 years before shit it the fan. Papa was a rollin stone and mom dukes was not having it when she figured out what was going on. This is probably were my trouble began with women even though I was raised by my moms as a teenager. She sent me to college and I even managed to graduate. Matter fact, I was only the second person in my family to accomplish this task at the time. I guess she wanted a better life for me since I was the youngest of three.

I think I turned out okay, but I know I got some shit wit me. My boyz say I'm a funny style nigga but I just tell them all the time. I 'm just a nigga with a funny style. I march to my own set of drums and I do my own thing. And I am the first to admit that I am not a saint nor am I proud of everything I have done. I just have the stones to talk about it and put it out there. But on some real shit, It Takes Two... I did not do this shit by myself. So sit back, relax, and make yourself comfortable as I take you through the trails and tribulations of my life up close and personal.