Unconventional Ways

Too big to confine
Too deep to define
This is yours and mine
No stronger ties
Could bind -- Unconventional Ways, Jazzyfatnastees

I'm convinced that people are just fuckin' numbnuts.

People have gotten by so long on just opening their mouth and bullshittin' their way through their existence, sellin' their irrelevant wares to the nearest ear...

...that they've forgotten how it is to really make some SENSE.

Of course, I'm that muthafucka that will tell you, after you have long exhausted your breath and your place, that

You didn't make a lick of fuckin' sense.

Not in a mean way. More matter of fact than anything. And it's not like I didn't give you a chance to make a cogent thought. I mean...how long I stand there and listen to you ramble on? You had your chance.

Now, shut up talking to me.

Somebody told me I had a foul mouth.



I wonder if you needed a degree to figure that out.

See I look at it like this...


It's my mouth, see. I'll say what I fuckin' want, see. You ain't God, see. Fuckouttaherewiddat, see.

Or maybe I gets ghetto on you and bust out with the...


I'll say the fuck what I want, mayne. You got that, mayne? You musta forgot, mayne. Fuckouttaherewiddat, mayne.



Not that I'm inclined to explain my expletive-laden prose, but there is probably one person or three out there that I wouldn't mind knowing that I'm very much into colloquialisms. I'm intrigued by them.

I grew up in a cussin' family.

Pick that shit up!

Get your ass in here, gal!

Fuck up again and see what I do!
That's how we communicated.

Oh sure, we could break out the King's English and split the infinitive with the best of 'em...but at my house

You expressed the fuck outta yourself.



Ok, I'm coming down K Street this morning, and I'm all for my black brothers gettin' up early, pressing towards the mark, and getting their butts into work.

Actually, when I see a trio of black men at the corner about to cross over into their office building, my nipples start doing push-ups and my fallopian tubes start poplockin'.

Fuh real. A workin' black man is a turn-on.

But what's with all these black men bammin' out during the work week?

Now ya'll know Nina is a fair and equal admirer of people, and she'on mind if you not quite matchin', but your shit is neat and clean.

Like I'on mind if you have on cordoroys and it's April, but they neat and clean. I'ma give you a pass all day long on that.

But some shit, black men...fuck if it's neat and clean. Some shit ya'll shouldn't be havin' PERIOD.

Like pointy-toed shoes. No pointy-toed shoes are hot for a man. NONE. Not a one. If you got some, you ain't got no business havin' 'em.

Windbreakers. Uh...if you're monkey ass ain't on a bike, guess what you'on have no business havin' in your possession?

Pinky rings.

Ok, there are some clothes that are known for their inherent flaws, and it's ok to rock 'em like that. Such as linen. You can look like you just jumped out of a drawer like Hong Kong Fooey with linen on. Silk clings when you perspire. Now, of course, it's best that you don't sweat while you have on silk, but if you get dewy in the club, and your silk shirt sticks to you...see, that's a pass.

But suede ain't one of them materials.

Once suede gets dirty, suede need to be cleaned. It's not indigenous of the fabric to have ground-in smudge on the elbows. That shit ain't cute.

Get that nasty fuckin' jacket cleaned.

These types of obvious gotdamn tomfoolery makes MY muthafuckin' commute stressful, cuz I gotta stop err'y now and then and give you the

look.

Beep me 911
Or call me on my cell phone
I'll call you back
To see what you gon' tell me
You don't wanna date
No ifs and or maybes
It's over babe -- Missy Elliott

That's some medieval shit right there.

Breakin' up with someone over the phone, that is.

I must admit that I've never broken up with anyone over the phone. If Nina was through with you, Nina would just never call you again, and you could assume that you and Nina was done. But there's something about a person dialing your number, and havin' the audacity to tell you they'on wanna be with you anymore.

I mean...fuckIlooklike listening?

You ain't gettin' no audience from me to break up with MY ass. Oh hell to da naw.

Him: Hey, Nina. Yo, I need to talk to you.
Me: Wassup, baby?
Him: You know, I've been thinkin' that it's just not really workin' out the way I thought it would, and I think it would be best if...
Me: *click*

I'm hangin' up the phone when ANYBODY says the phrase "I think it would be best...," cuz 9 times out of 10 what THEY think would be best ain't gon' be best for me.

Naw...I'm gettin' off the ph-yone DI-RECKLY.

It's not avoidance, it's principle.

FuckIlooklike you breakin' up with me...and I'm holdin' the phone...listening?



How come you don't call me...anymore? -- Prince