Yo, yo!

Su all up in ya grill piece, while Sean wheels and deals

Okay, obviously I'm loving being behind a camera right now. But I recently asked myself:

"Man, what an amazing invention the camera is! Suppose it was never invented? And what are some other amazing inventions that allow for some amazing experiences?"

I came up with two which I feel are boons to man's existence. The first being the paper towel. In the "first world," we live good, don't we? One reason why we do so well, stay so healthy, get so fat is probably because we're more likely to avoid infection and disease. Am I right? And I think that one of the single most important allies to the fight against infirmity would happen to be the disposable paper towel. What do we use to wipe off that salmonella sitting on the counter top after seasoning the chicken for Sunday dinner? How about the implement used to wipe out that filthy mess you made while eating the cooked chicken at the dining table? C'mon people, don't take that Bounty for granted. Appreciate it. Don't waste it! Stay clean, stay healthy.

And then we have the black board! What a novel concept, right? Only, don't we take its invention for granted too? It's the most basic teaching aid that most of us learned off of many years ago. It facilitated class discussions to no end. Think about it, when teachers use overhead projection slides, and PowerPoint presentations, how much room does a teacher have to interact with his/her students? The teacher can't erase and show another, impromptu, example, for instance. Your teacher's visuals had a lot less color, but the interaction was certainly more malleable and conducive to learning. Also, with the blackboard, the teacher was teaching from the start instead of taking material already prepared and just reciting information. The info, via the blackboard, is presented at a more natural pace. It takes time for the teacher to write out everything and with that, the students are absorbing, if even vicariously. Students could actually come up to the blackboard and complete exercises. Can you do that on a new fancy projector. It only makes teaching lazy. If you ask me, this new shit is taking the teach out of teacher. I'm glad I was raised off chalk dust. When I got to college and saw all this fucking equipment in front of me, I got bored and my mind was no longer in the class. The teachers all appeared boring. Their lessons, though way more structured, lacked interaction. I have strong opinions in favor of the blackboard, let me tell you. In fact, I think I may have already done so.

Long live the blackboard dinosaur, cameras, and paper towels.

"...now the police/
got me in the middle of the streets/
tryin' to beat me blue, black and orange/
I'm like 'hold up, who you smackin' on?/
I'm only tryin' to eat what you snackin' on'"
Jay-Z on Hell Yeah remix by Dead Prez

Today I'm feeling:

sanguine

Tell me you don't have a better appreciation for the blackboard today than you did yesterday!

Plain pain

Sean and Jennykins at Union Pool, Brooklyn, NY (pay no mind to drunk Olga in the background)

Is that Jenny or Jolie?!?

I finally took a photo I actually look Black in.

My knee is really in the shitter. Woke up this morning to find that it is in agonizing pain and I've got a big game tonight. I now know that my team is officially going to be gang raped. I don't even see us having enough players and I can't even jump.

Maybe the MacDaddy'll make me?

"...I'm the wrong one to lie to/
Shit, I'm the man who supply, who supply, who supply you..."
Beanie Sigel on Cru Love

Today I'm feeling:

deeply saddened

This life thing is composed of so many facets. A cut and dry situation is a rare find. Emotions have so many levels. Sadness is recurrent, I find, when happiness is visible but not within reach. Sometimes we just do it to ourselves.

Mired in meager misery

It seems my life has gone trotters up. But, I've been contacted to substitute teach this Friday. It won't be fun, but I'll know what it is to have a pay check again, however meager.

The irony of life. I was comfortable in the ignorance of not knowing how much better things have gotten. Sorry for being so vague here. But, now that I learn how new and improved the new and improved has become, I feel spited.

"at your wake as I peek in/
look in your casket, feeling sarcastic/
'look at him, still sleeping'"
Jay Z on 22 2's

Today I'm feeling:

spited

But we all die in the end, don't we?

Parkin' it

Serenity at Washington Sq. Park, NYC

"...I switched my motto, 'stead of saying 'fuck tomorrow'/
that buck that bought a bottle coulda struck the Lotto..."
Nas on Life's a Bitch

"Drawing something is drawing light"
Sukyung Heo, May 2007

Here's Sukyung's (Tiramisu's) philosophy:
There is light in everything. Even the shadows are a result of light. Light is everything. When you draw, you are drawing the light. Every color, everything.

Well put my friend. May your English continue to grow to limitless mastery.

No bar-B-ques, no beach, no anything. But why should I get all up in this Memorial Day action? I don't work. Most use this day as a welcome respite during the season's first really mild weather. But, my whole life is the weekend. And like I give a fuck about soldiers supposedly fighting for some phantom freedom I have in a land far, far away. So, in a matter-of-fact, just another day sort of way, I ain't doing shit.

Today I'm feeling:

lacking in grace

...and substance. Tell me 'bout your days y'all!

After her aperture

Picture in picture

I think I was hit on by a guy today at Bryant Park. I wasn't flattered. And it's obvious that I should NOT be a model. 'Nuff said.

I got ditched again! KFC hasn't called me since she met me that fateful morning. Maybe I was supposed to hold her or something? I don't know, how do you deal with a person who claims she was just assaulted? Yeah, I'm going to stop thinking about these fruitless paths I allow myself down.

Alright, so if I did a LuxembourgLand T-shirts thing at CafePress, how many of you out there would shell out some bread for one?

I's is not the only one.

"Pumpin' sand, gun in hand, Sean the man, told ya/
I stay on point like that Uncle Sam poster"
Sean J of the Field Mob on 229

Today I'm feeling:

Clandestine

I mean seriously, I took a picture of a picture...

"Beyond category"

When interviewed or simply asked about other talented musicians of his day, Duke Ellington was fond of responding "beyond category." For example, you read this blog, and quite regularly I might add. And because you appreciate your minute's worth of reading here, you remark that LuxembourgLand is "beyond category!"

The International Photography Center was goooood! The photos were poignant, immersing, and beyond category. Ironically, photos were not allowed.

Sitting in Union Square Park until morning on a holiday weekend is like life on a kabob. I even saw a group of White people get ticketed by the police for drinking in public. I suppose they were trying to get loosened up before the club. But the highlight of my sitting was being eyed by a hottie who was with another couple and the guy the couple was trying to set her up with... or something. It wasn't just me that felt she was into me, Jenny was right there with me to confirm that she was indeed checking me out. Summer in the city...

"clocks never stop/
it's all a race to the top/
trying to freeze time that's why I iced the face on my watch"
AZ on New Life (Intro)

Today I'm feeling:

greatly tortured

I think it's called eustress. Nothing like ice cream and eustress, right?

Can you hear me now?

My cell phone broke so there'll be no talking to the ladies for me for a while. Alls well though, I hadn't had one for over 2 years until November. Not really tied to it like that. Used to doing without anyways.

Lost my third game of the week. Ridiculous. These are three separate losing teams, and in my defense, it ain't my fault they lose. Tuesday, for example, I couldn't miss for shit. I alone kept us in the game and they still didn't get me the ball. I scored all my points off of broken plays. You see your teammate shooting lights out, why not get him the ball? I'll never understand it.

"They jealous, they wanna step in my spot/
but you could sneeze the rest of your life and won't get the blessings I got"
Sean J of the Field Mob on Smilin'

Ooh, here's a goodie:

"You butter your bread really nice, man. You cover all corners."
That's me paraphrasing my mother's dead ex husband (he was her ex husband long before he was dead, in case you're wondering. They were also divorced long before I came along, so we didn't need Maury to know he's not my father). The only man to call me "Seanie" and make it sound good. He beat the shit out my mother (her account) but he always smiled the good smile. It was no surprise he had a lot of goodies in the quotes department. Here's the breakdown. Say you've got a job, a couple bank accounts, get yourself a nice homestead and a beautiful car. You're all set right? You're happy, no? That's when 'ol Mr. Roy Lee steps in and says "You buttered your bread real nice, man. You covered every corner. Nice, even and smooth." Or some permutation thereof. You get the idea. In other words, you took care of business, didn't put your eggs in one basket, covered all your bases, etc.

So this morning I'm applying the goobers to my toast. As always I do it with precision. All careful-like, you dig? A nice thin layer of goodness. That's sweet, creamy peanut butter and strawberry jam. It goes extremely well with coffee, tea, beer, milkshakes, cheese (for you Leila), ganja, biscuits, fried chicken, pizza, roasted duck in mango salsa with apricot chutney, tacos, chitterlings, gin and juice, you name it! Good stuff. So, my mother whispers to me, all wise-like, you dig? "You butter your bread real nice, man. You cover every corner." Schweet, right? Take that one with you to the bank. Deposit it. Let it garner some fucking interest. Withdraw in about 7 years. Then spring it on your first born. Wait out the chill going down your spine. When your youngster registers it, wink. You dig? All smooth-like.

Today I'm feeling:

Glad my mother is my mother

Good one mama bear. Good one.

Crumbly cookies... the tasty kind

And this week's museum? The International Center of Photography! Be forewarned, I'm expecting this one to be the best one yet! I'm am truly excited to go to this place. It will give me the opportunity to see how excitable I am when it comes to photography. It's like delving into a potential passion. Details to follow. Aren't you all excited for me? New York City is the cheese to my macaroni (get it, Leila?).

I wanted to go sit out in the park this evening and watch people. Coulda, shoulda, and woulda, but whaddya know? I didn't. Don't we do that to ourselves all the time? I'll probably go straight there tomorrow after my ball game.

"...She sexed me good but I should have known/
come in to this world alone, leave this world alone..."
Steele of the Cocoa Brovas/Smiff N Wesson on Dry Snitch

Today I'm feeling:

relatively pain free

Relative to yesterday.

Seen that scene before it seems

My old ass is in trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble! Played my second game of the week last night and my knee is in pain. Pain, pain, pain! Ouch. I've got 'till 8:30pm Thursday to take care of myself in time for my third game. I'll likely just have to man up and battle through the ouches.

Now this is what I'm talking about. Inevitably, friendships always take themselves to the next level by way of the massage. When either friend start asking for rub downs, it's time to start thinking about each other in a whole new light. I don't know where KFC really wants to go with this, but so far she's asked me to tell her a bed time story, blow her a kiss, and give her a massage. That's not a just friends sort of deal... as far as I'm concerned. Not that I really appreciate conversing with her to that. My 4 hour long talks with the Quasi Buddhist from late April were ten times more exhilarating (though, after the second one, they quickly went to shit). I can't complain. Having someone to talk to at night sure takes the edge off of being a-fucking-live. But I'm going to have to flip on her if I hear one more diatribe on how awful her ex was!

Still got on this stinky ass shirt. And you know what? I'm not taking it off, nor washing. Fuck it.

"...y'all don't do much but drink 40s, look dumb on the block/
damn near 40, still running from cops..."
Beanie Sigel on I don't do much

Today I feel:

geriatric

Really, it's a good time now to call my woman friend that is for massaging my back after basketball games. I guess I could reciprocate by listening to her sensitive talking on the phone or something. In that way, she'd be a specialized friend, just like all my men friends. But first, I'd have to meet said specialized woman friend.

Derelict rhetoric

Urban sprawl, uptown, NYC

I guess it's possible to read one thing and see anything you want. For goodness sakes, there's a lip gloss song out that's getting serious airplay on the radio (and people are seriously listening). I'm not a professor. I'm not a photographer. I'm not an artist. I'm not a philosopher. I'm not a social scientist. I hope you readers don't take that with you when you leave this page. I write a minute's worth of reading a day with the hope that you there, at your desk job, can get a slice of entertainment during your down time. That way I feel encouraged that you'll visit me tomorrow and the next day. That's also why I post everyday. And with that said... I'll see you tomorrow, no?

"If everybody's a killer, where the fuck is all the punks?"
Joe Budden on Real life in rap

Spoke to the KFC ex-employee of the decade again! Wait a minute. It smells like cat piss in here. Whoops, never mind, it's me. I haven't washed this shirt in weeks. I digress. The KFC ex-employee is calling me. Not that I mind, particularly because she's a good looking woman, but she just made it clear that she wants a guy friend that's nothing more than a friend. Now, that's all good and fine. Except when it comes to me. I have a philosophy on the whole being friends with women thing. If you're reading this, Jenny, you're safe. You're one of the rare exceptions to this philosophy. But my deal is that I've got all the friends I want already. They're called men, and they're way better than most women are in the friends department. They aren't all that sensitive, and they don't linger on the phone. You have specialized men friends that fit several different needs. I have friends for basketball. Then I have another set for drinking. And I have a set for general socializing. And I have another set for miscellaneous crazy shit. With women, they think of themselves as all purpose. And besides that, I tend to usually find the woman friend that only calls when she needs something. Usually it's the "where's that pool hall we went to that time when you said that peanut butter only goes well with dairy products that are sweetened?" needs that I have to bear. Such a tragedy. Moral of the story, my time and effort is being wasted (btw, it was her brother who's married to her sister-in-law and not her who's married to her sister-in-law's brother... in other words, she's not married).

I haven't written a paragraph that long in ages.

Today I'm feeling:

futile

As in resistance is futile. I'm just not going to win. And crackhead's birthday is today. The crackhead in question being my brother, who is an actual crackhead in real life. Just saying, not actually wishing him a happy one or anything retarded like that.

Paved Paradise

Asian footwear at Union Square Park, NYC

How drunk was I Sunday morn? I talked to everyone! I mean it too. I approached about 2 or 3 fatties, probably much to Maurice's chagrin. I pointed out a large man who, in my inebriated state, looked curiously like Louie Anderson to one of these women and she summarily called me an asshole. I also approached a homosexual (no homo). The funny thing is, he was the least obliging. Of all the people I met, he was the only person who refused to tell me his name. Queer, right? See, motivation for me to stick to the slim and sexy female bar/lounge/club/party goers. Something for me to justify my pretensions.

"Clouds part Just to give us a little sun/
There’s a limit to your love/
Like a waterfall in slow motion/
Like a map with no ocean/
There’s a limit to your love ..."
Feist on Limit to your love

Today I'm feeling:

Like today is going to suck

Maybe it's just me. No word on the Reminder yet?

Mo better

My "nigga" John, who is now Maurice, and this random hottie Cathy, who is Korean ironically, are sleeping in my bed. This shit is insane. It feels good to be in my 20's. She bought me three bottles of Heineken to replace the two bottles of Corona that she and Maurice drank and they're both snoring and have to go to work and brunch in a bit. Shit just doesn't get any crazier than this. Go alcohol!

It's over 12 hours later and I've changed my bed linen (just because Maurice is quite nasty and was laying in my bed), and tutored and sat for a couple hours in Union Square Park and spoke on the phone for an hour with my buddy who used to work at the KFC. All on 2 hours sleep. And I'm still charged.

So here's the thing, KFC just isn't finger licking good anymore.

But Feist is!

I'm trying to dig a well. This is my new project. I figure, it'd be really sweet to have a well to run to every time I need some water.

Alright, gotta run, this headache/hangover is beating the shit out of me.

Today I'm feeling:

whooped

Yeah, this is madness... what do you all think of the Feist album? I can't make up my mind. It's only $10. But if you knew how broke I am, you know that $10 is $10. Should I take the deal?

Liasons with the inside of my head

I knew there was something more to that Mazda of mine!

Damn! I'm getting phone calls and shit from every direction. No one I actually care to speak with, mind you. John is calling my ass again! Only, this time he wizened up and agreed to trek out to Brooklyn. Pimpin' my man, pimpin'! Not like the ladies are going to treat us any better, but I'm fond of the Brooklyn bar scene. And by night's end, John will be too.

Then the funniest thing happened on the train ride home just a moment ago. This girl who braided my hair this one time when I met her in KFC (she worked there, and always hooked me up!) back when my hair was braidable was on the J with me. Hoobaloo, was she ever hot! A total freakin' hottie! But, she introduced me to her sister-in-law, so I'll just assume that she's spoken for. But I couldn't keep from smiling, so happy to see her for some reason or another. We never did anything outside of me buying fried chicken from her or some hair braiding services. But we were cool peoples (and deep down, probably a little attracted to one another). Cool peoples!

WTF?!? I think I actually like the Feist album now. I don't know if I want to go buy it yet... but it's endearing itself to me. Over time. You know.

Today I'm feeling:

cheesy!

What you lookin' at?

Fail to plan to fail

It's Natalie!!! I hope she doesn't mind.

Yes, I'm going to vote for him. Even if I have to write him in. I don't agree with everything Ron Paul is for (most notably his pro life stance and his border security issues) but he's certainly the most competent in most regards of American life. I'm no republican either, but a good leader is a good leader and the fact of the matter is that I'm no democrat either.

No plans in life. I'm such a loser. Here's my new take on things. I'm just going to continue to meet people and be wide eyed. Hopefully, I'll learn, see, observe, be inspired, or absorb an idea, occupation, profession or career of some sort whereby I can subsist. It's a Spartan task, I know, but there's got to be something out there I can effectively do... outside of blogging (though I'm sure I'm no Rembrandt at this either).

Today I'm feeling:

positively subordinate

Go figure.

'Caste' out the heavens

I hit a new moon bonfire yesterday. Fun thing it was. Just staring into a 10' diameter fire is almost awe inspiring. Besides the requisite 'whole state of Florida being on fire' jokes, the ambiance was pretty comradely. Maybe comradely isn't the right adjective...

So the lady who did the bonfiring brought up a pretty ubiquitous point. My writing is terribly shitty today, I can't find the right word for anything. When I say 'ubiquitous' I mean it is an understood point by nearly everyone in society. Our society. That point being that we live in a caste system. Our keeping up with the Joneses mentality is what divides us into our individual castes. Apparently, if you make 100K per annum, you've got to live in a home and drive a car that reflects that. And if you make 500K a year, you've got to have a property, and several cars to reflect that. So they've outlawed the caste system in India, but it's symbolically still in place in many regards, no? Well, it's here in this capitalist society as well.

Nah, I ain't trying to get deep or anything, nahmean? But I'm sayin' is all.

It was difficult stuff too. Some of the people in attendance were pretty loopy and you had to wonder what the fuck is wrong with these people? But it takes all types to make it a world I hear and so I decided to see if I couldn't learn anything. I'm so selfish! I learned good people surround themselves with good. I think I already knew that, but I must've relearned it. No?

Today I'm feeling:

remorse

I miss something. Yo, comment! I haven't seen shit from you so called readers in days and I've had close to a hundred hits in the past 4 days. What the fuck?

Lather, rinse, repeat

"I burn like the perm on the Mac"
Phat Kat on Nasty ain't it, also the state of Florida

What is it about paths? If you've been looking at my photography, you may have noticed I have an affinity to paths. I guess they inspire dreaming. Like, where does that path lead? And my paths never show you where they go, it's all open to interpretation. In your mind, one of "my" paths can take you anywhere you want it to. Maybe that'll be my signature. Hmmmm...

In the ghetto! This is why I love Snoop Dogg.

Okay, random thought! I want to buy a lollipop. Strawberry flavored. The Charms Blowpop in strawberry, to be exact.


And Ron Paul, a G.O.P. candidate for president. This man is my hero and the first republican in a while I'm actually a believer in. At last night's republican debate, the man essentially argued that the terrorist attacks of 9/11 were a result of U.S. policies abroad. I've been saying this shit since 9/12. Rudy, however, argued the man down to great applause from the inflamed, ignorant, American audience. But such is life for Americans... they can do no wrong (sharp biting sarcasm).

Today I'm feeling:

wingless

Maybe I need another Redbull 'cause the Coronas aren't helping.

Department of Purple

Purple couch here

Most people don't care too much for purple decor, but I thought this very long purple couch was just stunning. And cozy looking too.

Alright, still is an absolutely splendid album. I might even continue my other blog by rating this masterpiece. Lily is so good. It's absolutely music the way it was meant to be heard. The Brits are fucking coming! Amy Winehouse is almost as good. And Lady Sovereign?! Forget it!! The Brits failed with their Cockney slang, doilies and lack luster counterpart to rap (grime), but their female contemporary musicians have something. Big up!

I think Friday evening might find me at the Asia Society. Such a loser. At 27 on a Friday evening I should have some bread in my pocket trying to bag some broads at trendy clubs contracting my fair share of gonorrhea and syphilis. Instead I go to museums on their free nights and blog. It never burns when I pee. I don't have any bumps (though I don't exactly want bumps). And I don't have a long list of chicks I knocked off (or up). I gotta go now; watch me some cartoons, sharpen my crayons and color or something.

Today I'm feeling:

short in the tooth

Like I've only just got on the block instead of being around the motherfucker

Boy, oh boy

Now I don't know too much about this thing here called life, but it dawned on me not too long ago that a lot of it has to do with boys. Go figure. Let me explain. It seems, when you think about it, that everyone is after boys. Read the missed connections in the personals section on Craigslist. Maybe 75% of the posts are people trying to track down boys.

Sound odd? Think about it. First, there are the girls who like boys. They make up the vast majority of boy chasers. Then, there is a growing group of potential boy suitors. That group being boys. Yes, boys who like boys. Not all that much of an abstract idea, is it? Okay, then we have the girls who like girls who look like boys. A niche group, yes, but not exactly a big aberration. Of course you also have the clergy members who take a peculiar liking to boys. I group them with the folks over at NAMBLA. And lastly, the group that scares me the most, are the boys who like girls who look like boys. Now, I'm a man who certainly goes for a nice young chick with a crop cut and some flats, but I stop long before tattoos, muscles, and fitted caps. The rest of us go for girls! Just plain, cute to sexy women folk.

So, what is it? What's the lure of boys? I used to be one. They tend to grow into men. Hair grows in places we find unpleasant, and it stops growing in places we feel it should continue. We wear scowls and curse like drunken sailors. And we fancy libations. Very few people take a fancying to men. Though it's true, we do age like fine wine. I tend to think of myself as a cheap Malbec. But still, wine is fine just so long as it gets you to wobble after enough of it. Right?

So folks across the world, lay off the boys. You fucking pervs and pedophiles.

Today I'm feeling:

Like the kettle who got called black by the pot.

And I'm proud, I quickly replied!

Sorry I made no mention of Mother's Day yesterday. It appears that Mother's Day isn't one of the holidays we celebrate with beer, wine, vodka, rum, whiskey, or champagne. So I found it to not be worthy of mention. Plus, mothers rarely take "walks" to the store for a pack of cigarettes. There's no lore to the mother. A good blog post does not a fine mother make.

Soir Bleu

Yo, yo. Check this shit out! I got invited to a New Moon bonfire on Wednesday. I'm so excited because it fit my schedule perfectly!!! It's the only day I actually don't have a game this week. So sweet.

"Part of the walk is the walking."
Sean Luxembourg, May 2007

So here's the thing. If you want to be in a relationship, for example, but complain about its complexities then you live the "part of the walk is the walking" credo. It's almost masochistic. But in truth, what makes things fun are the things themselves. Relationships, in short, are just plain fun. Even the ones that go bust. Belly up. The ones that end in charges being pressed or a trip to the store for a pack of cigarettes. It's all part of the relationship. That's why, inevitably, given time, you'll find yourself in another one. Reading just so happens to be my walk. I hate to read. It destroys your eyesight quicker than slow. Reading is tedious and takes some concentration. Yet, reading is learning, life, entertainment, enthralling, engrossing and a whole host of multi-syllabic positive adjectives. So, part of the read is the reading. See how it encapsulates things? That's why my "new" cliche (such an oxymoron) or adage is "part of the walk is the walking." Oooh. I just got a chill. If I ever have a child, she's going to get a goodie when I hit her with that.

Lily Allen!!! The best fucking artist out, period! I'm going to the store to pay money to purchase her CD. She curses, she talks shit, she's funny and the music is all catchy. Money well spent.

"Well it's very funny 'cause I've got your fucking money, and I'm never gonna get it just because of my bad credit."
Lily Allen on Everything's just wonderful

And I finally got the scoop on the song from the Geico commercial! It's called Remind me by Royksopp.

Today I'm feeling:

a soir bleu

I wonder if anyone on eBay peddles lethal doses of pentobarbital?

The swigs make it so easy to go uphill

Talk about trees that grow in Brooklyn! One of the most amazing things I've come across in my life is this story of a tree growing in the Ténéré. Read about it, and see a photo of it, here. This, in and of itself, is a post!

But alas, I want to add some old news to the fracas that is LuxembourgLand. Al Sharpton. Granted, I was 7 in '87, back when Tawana Brawley claimed, and later admitted it to be false, that she was raped by a bunch of Whiteys. Apparently, Al Sharpton took up her cause and never backed down even when the case turned against Ms. Brawley.

Fast forward to the 2000's sometime. The U.S. Navy was using the island off Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory, as a bombing test ground or for some other atrocious misuse. The island in question, Vieques, was also inhabited by human beings. In 2002 or 2003, the good reverend took up this cause and managed to get arrested. This before his political ruminations and presidential aspirations. The incident may have even happened in 2001 for all I know. Still, it made me a believer in Al. I even voted for him instead of Kerry or Bush. There was no way you could get me off the Al bandwagon. That act alone served to be completely devoid, in my mind, of self interest. It was a completely benevolent and altruistic act. It was, in part, because of Rev. Sharpton's actions that the U.S. Navy departed Vieques in 2003.

Fast forward yet again, and Rev. Al managed to screw everything up by almost single handedly getting a provocative radio DJ fired. The violation? No, his victim, Mr. Imus, didn't persecute anyone. He simply did his job, in free expression, without profanity. In fact, the FCC, which governs on-air violations, hadn't even initialised an investigation into the matter. In this, a heavily capitalistic, nation no one even waited for the dollar to talk. Instead of letting the market decide if Don stays or not, the networks were bullied by Al into firing Imus. And for that, I now know that Al isn't for free expression and freedom. Al is for a shock value all his own. Al has created an image. And people are buying into it. Al is for censorship. The off the cuff remarks and color commentary that we'll never have the pleasure of hearing. It's a shame. To hell with creativity, right?

They should have kept the man in prison.

My opinion.

Care to retort?

I wrote this on 4 beers at 6:08am after not having slept. Sorry if my argument isn't as solid as the Guinness would have it seem.

Today I'm feeling:

the rancor of the sun's piercing piss hue on my bloodshot, alcohol infused eyeballs

Yeah. Sometimes it feels good to not give a fuck.

I got that weed

I have no clue where to keep this thing

What the fuck is up with Amy Winehouse's voice? That bitch can blow! And the thing is, homegirl looks like a pack-a-day smoker, where does she get the lungs?

Made my first run of the season to Dairy Queen last night. It was full of fatties in line. How cute, I thought. How cute.

Today seems ripe for the Whitney. I've been promising myself the trip for a while. It's finally going to happen. Maybe I can convince mother to roll.

Overheard at Dairy Queen:
Man 1: Your baby looks like a dog.
Mother of "baby": Ahahahah!

Today I'm feeling:

lethargic

I don't suppose I'm eating right. What's up?

Lost in left

Gas price tip: fill up when it's cool (i.e. 3am in the morning), that's when gas is denser and you'll get the biggest bang for your buck!

I saw René Magritte's bowler hat at the 23rd Street R train station in the Flatiron District and am promising a pic.

"Never pray for patience, because God will try it."
Starbucks' employee's mother

Fun stuff! I found a third basketball team. I'm on 4 organized sports teams. I've played 4 basketball games and 1 softball game in the past 7 days and my body is holding up.

And out of left field (speaking of sports, right) I was rung by the quasi Buddhist last night/this morning. I was cordial. But I'm still a bastard. I got to be. Until someone gives me good reason to be otherwise.

Oh, and this jobless thing... I couldn't be busier. My tutee referred me to a new tutee, however, now it's just a matter of the other shoe dropping as assuredly she's only passing me off as she probably knows she no longer needs me.

"Dasawl"
My mother saying 'that's all' as if to sarcastically say "why shouldn't he/she/it?"

And I don't like looking in the mirror because I always see the same motherfucker looking right back at me.

Today I'm feeling:

up to my eyeballs in light frustration

Like the British make time for light refreshments, my life seems to always invite light frustrations. Care to agree or disagree?

Dae han min gook!

Inside the Solomon R.

Guess who's tutoring a new Korean today? I guess I'm not only big in Japan, I must be big in the big rabbit too.

Good feelings! Physically, I played three basketball games since Thursday and a year ago I would have been too sore right about now. Today I could play another three back to back to back. It feels good to be in decent shape.

Bad feelings! Emotionally, something's missing.

Yet another striking contrast.

And what's going on in Northern Ireland? Is that peace? I've known, for some time now, that the Irish were world class bomb makers. Will they now be freelance bomb makers or will they just give the trade up? Peace is such a distraction!

Simple pleasure of the day: home ground Caffé Verona decaf coffee, brewed in my french press. Delicious.

Today I'm feeling:

like I could go for some acupuncture

And today, I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about today.

I'm not a photographer

And those aren't cherry blossoms

Because they aren't. But they were awesome when I saw them in early April. I had to get off the train and get on the ground and snap some photos. It was probably the contrast because nothing else was starting to blossom at the time. It was a good time too. Things were going well. I had a job. I was waking up early and getting to my job early. I was meeting co workers and Koreans. I was drinking exotic "earthy" organic coffees. I was listening to various genres of music.

And now I sit at home. No job. Though I'm delighted to not have to go to work. And though I'm not an artist, I've decided to say I am and use it as a euphemism meaning "I'm unemployed." So, for now at least, "artist" = unemployed. And if you were to ever ask me what type of art it is that I do, I very simply, though coyly, retort "Oh, it's just too difficult to describe, you'll never get it," and swiftly make for the exit. What a contrast!

It's all about contrasts. And simple pleasures.

I'm building a nice cache of what it's all about here.

Today I'm feeling:

solemn

If I were to buy you the equivalent of a drink at this Internet lounge we find ourselves, what drink would that be?

And by the way, those really aren't cherry blossoms, and I'm really not a photographer. But they could be cherry blossoms?

A tall vanilla soy simpatico

Apparently cats are infatuated with tumbleweed. I've never seen my Kate, who's usually so miserable, so enchanted. Recurring theme of the month; simple pleasure.

Yesterday was the day! May is turning up aces. I look at the old adage as a metaphor for my life at the moment. April showers bring May flowers. Fucking eh! So, I played softball at Central Park at 9am. Came home and napped off my Cinco de Mayo hangover until around 2. Then hit the New School at 4:30 for a Korean function. I met a whole host of "new" Koreans. I say new in quotations only because they all say I've met them before. I can't keep track of the mofos. Good people.

By and large everything's vanilla. I still need some drastic change, but everything's vanilla.

Some more if you's?

If you didn't catch Spiderman 3 or 300 on opening weekend, or at all (although I did catch 300 on opening weekend, but it was just to spend time with someone and I didn't pay nor enjoy it too tough)...

If you don't live your life around a job...

And if you ambitiously start things only to lose interest and never actually see them to completion...

You and I may be simpatico!

Today I'm feeling:

strange

Hey, it's just a feeling. You feel me?

If you...

If the George Washington Bridge wasn't so costly and congested...

If you don't find Spike Lee or Quentin Tarantino movies all that particularly good...

If you don't necessarily fancy having all that much money...

If you aren't too much of a fiction fan...

If you don't find it necessary to shower every single day...

If you find negativity practical as opposed to positivity, which you find unrealistic...

If you have a fondness for lip balm...

If you are not into hoarding...

And if you would rather not chew gum...

Then you and I are like... simpatico!

"I'm in the drop with the AC on/
that's why the streets embrace me dawg, I'm so cool!"
Jay-Z on Guess who's back by Scarface featuring Jay and Beanie Sigel

"Never pump fake and you'll get past the blitz"
Beanie Sigel on Guess who's back

Today I'm feeling:

unhappy in general

Here's an idea (which no one ever seems to pick up on), how's about you readers add a couple simpatico "if you's..." Do it for kicks!

Cinco de Mayo!

Antique style... 'cause I love this one that much

"I don't follow any guidelines 'cause too many niggas ride mine/
so I change styles every two rhymes."
Jay-Z on 22 2's

Now, off to find me some Corona and tequila! Olé!

Today I'm feeling:

a little too sober

I know I shouldn't hit the bottle this early... but it ain't that early! You know?

Cuatro de Mayo

Fort Tryon Park foliage

Busy day. Clean, tidy, repeat. The room looks bright and lovely.

Patience is a virtue
Anonymous

When you rush me you get weak ass posts like this one. Bloggin' ain't a science or anything but it does take some care as to make sure there's at least something to entertain you all for 30 seconds. I try.

Get this! My friend from Kansas picked me up a tumbleweed while she was in New Mexico! Then, she shipped it from the Big Sunflower to the Big Apple to yours truly! It's sitting right here in my freshly painted room! Pimpin'!! Pictures, presumably, are to follow.

Be cool.
anonymous

Today I'm feeling:

productive

Say something... before something says you.

All in ya grill!

Sean at the Cloisters, NYC, April 2007

Plastered, painted and balled like a bad ass. I'm NOT the shit or anything, but I knew it wasn't me. My basketball team is usually pretty bad. Teammates all have attitudes and are so moody. It's like playing basketball with the Rutgers Scarlet Knights (only less good). Had Mr. Imus "insulted" some male basketball players, there'd be no touching press conferences or multiple apologies. The men would man up and move on. But my basketball team is overwhelmed by woman hormone. Complain, complain, complain.

So to the point. I'd say 3 of the 5 non bitches on the team showed up for our game tonight. Me and two others. We played 3 on 5 for a whole half. We were short two players. But... we had absolutely no bitches. No complaints. We just balled our ass of. We were up by 12 points at half time. Then 2 bitches showed up and the other team started to cut into our lead. Handicapped by having "enough" players, we held on to win by only 6 but I took home a very solemn point. You can't play with women, even if they've got man parts.

Don't get me wrong, we beat a bad team. But we would have lost for sure if we had to play with that 5 for a full game. 3 men + 2 bitches = L.

Earlier tonight:

Non bitch teammate Matt: Yo, these fat bitches be acting like they skinny!

Sean: What you should have told her, before you hung up on her, was that you're hanging up on her not because she ain't trying to have sex with you but because she ain't skinny AND she ain't trying to have sex with you.

Today I'm feeling:

like I accomplished something

Yeah.

Wednesday Chillin'

S2 in her favorite garden

What a morn. I hit the 63rd floor of the Empire State for an interview. The views in their classrooms are spectacular. Alas, my current employer is pushing me off and the folks to whom I'm being pushed are not interested.

But I was glad I made the trip. I'd hate to work on the 63rd floor anywhere. But the walk downtown after I'd get off would make it a little nicer. I meandered down 5th Avenue until I found a mom and pop paint store in the Flatiron District where I bought some compound from a delightful salesperson.

Next, I hit the 'Square'. Union Square, naturally. It's my favorite part of the city, as anyone who knows me knows. I practically go there every time I'm in Manhattan.

So a few blocks south of Union Square I found a deli that made me some french toast and I sat outside and ate it with some orange juice. It was comparable to sitting and having biscotti and caffé in a Roman piazza. It was as elegant as having cheese and red wine in a courtyard in the south of France. Refreshing. Delicious. Simple.

How easy is it, sometimes, to find pleasure in the most ridiculously simple shit?

Sean: S2, hungry?
S2: Meeooooooooooooow!
Sean: There, better?
S2: ...
Sean: My point exactly; contentment is only content when at its simplest I suppose.

Today I'm feeling:

pure irie

Ooh, here's a thought... everyone post one of their favorite simple pleasures in the comments section!

Mayday!

I made it out. April 2007 has been nixed... finally. I will take a couple days and recoup.

In the meantime, my bedroom is going from Split Pea Soup yellow to Beachglass. It's a more peaceful hue! Can't wait to put the White trim on it. I feel better just thinking about the change of ambiance.

Today I'm feeling:

Gleeful!

You should've seen this post before I changed it! I bitched it up a little. School girl like. Now, talk that good shit in the comments section people.