The current playlist:  Walks By Me Everyday (A line from the hook of one of the songs on the list)

1. You Send Me Swangin’ - Mint Condition
2. The Girl From Ipanema - Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto
3. Come and Talk To Me - Jodeci
4. My Cherie Amour - Stevie Wonder
5. Too Shy To Say - Stevie Wonder
6. Butterflies - Michael Jackson
7. You Don’t Know My Name - Alicia Keys
8. Lady - Mista
9. Crush On You - The Jets
10. Beauty - Dru Hill
11. Somebody Loves You Baby (You Know Who It Is) - Patti Labelle
12. I’m So Into You - Peabo Bryson
13. The Way You Make Me Feel - Michael Jackson
14. Wanna Get To Know You - G-Unit ft. Joe

Yes, I know I’m a suckafalovefaceass…..

So I officially can no longer hold my liquor.  Not only that, the next day (which today is one of) I’m NO good to anyone.

Take last night for instance.  I actually did some predrinking with a little beer, then some Jack.  Then I got to the spot and ordered a Maker’s on the rocks and took my obligatory jello shot (I mean they were free, come on!).  That was summarily followed by more drinks which usually would do nothing for me, but not last night.  Last night I had a rather precipatous fall off, complete with a visit from the nefarious one known as Earl.

The last few drinking episodes have been kinda like that actually.  I’m losing it.  I’m not the same guy who can float a keg in a weekend!  What happened to me man?

First things first, there will be an accompanying "Let The Liquor Tell It" entry to this story or whatever you want to call it.  Second things second, don’t forget to vote for me if you haven’t.

With that business out of the way, allow me to retell last nights events as I recall them.  I began the day with all intentions of going to the little Back To School party at Barcar.  I went and grabbed a haircut from Joe and got my mind in a partying type of mood, but then slowly my plans began to unravel.

One ride decided he was too broke to go out.  Another was busy doing family stuff.  And so on and so forth.  This carless business does indeed have it’s drawbacks.  I was well on my way to making alternative plans.  I had just recently gotten back in touch with my friend D’Alva and she was mentioning how she wanted to resume the old "Jack Daniel’s Nights" that we used to do.  So seeing as how I had copious amounts of Jack I figured last night was as good a night as any.

However as luck would have it, she was planning to attend the very party I had given up hopes on.  So I ended up catching a ride with her and her friend Danielle.  So I got dressed and headed out.  When we got there however it looked as if I may have made the wrong decision, there was absolutely NO ONE there.  Maybe like 5 other people.  I figured the night looked to be a bust.

Slowly but surely however, people started to trickle in.  Five became ten, ten became twenty, and before long it was ON.

Then she walked in….it was like in a movie.  All she needed was a puff of smoke or fog like in Weird Science.  This chick is so dope.  And yes I got my "club stalk" on.  I watched her dance.  I watched her interact with people, friends and otherwise.  From all indications her personality meets or maybe even exceeds her exceptional beauty.  This chick is the total package.  She knows she’s fine, but she doesn’t act like it, if that makes sense.

Of course this means I didn’t make the slightest move on her.  I’ve come to realize that time and again, the imaginary traits and fantasies I create about these chicks are always better than reality.  I mean there are the obvious drawbacks, but I’ve been living with them for as long as I’ve been my girl crazy self, so I’m used to it.

Anyway, for whatever reason, I shrugged off my usual lack of desire to dance and actually did a good bit of dancing last night.  I drank quite a bit as well….and you can read about THAT in the other section….

So I’m sitting here hoping beyond hope that I don’t get a call to do a consult for Neurology, when I happened upon an article on CNNSI about the recently released book by NBA journeyman Paul Shirley, "Can I Keep My Jersey".  I got hipped to Paul Shirley through the Boston Sports Guy, as I do most things sports/pop culture related.  Shirley kept a blog on NBA.com which was decidedly self-depreciating, so you know I dug it as self-depreciating/self-loathing is my bag.

As I read through the article I started to think about some of my heroes in the cult of self-loath.  The earliest memory I can recall is seeing Richard Lewis perform some routine or the other.  I was a pretty young guy, but I recall thinking he was pretty hilarious.  He showed me that not only is it okay to laugh at yourself, but you can actually go a long way in comedy making OTHER people laugh at you, especially if they are going to laugh at you anyway, you might as well focus it right?

Then came George Costanza (played by Jason Alexander on Seinfeld).  George took self-loathing mainstream in a big, big way.  He toyed the line between painfully funny and painfully awkward beautifully.  Some of the things George would say and do made even me cringe, but he pushed the envelope far enough for a guy like me to do and say some of the things I can do.  Of course, George was a fictional character….or so we thought.

We soon found out that George was just a caricature of Larry David, creator of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm.  It’s no coincidence that my level of self-depreciation increased exponentially with the debut of Curb.  If Richard Lewis is the grandfather of self-loathing humor, Larry David is the godfather, and Curb would be "The Payback" .

It’s funny though, I can’t think of a black comedian whose schtick is self-depreciation.  Maybe my boy Jordan Carlos, but he’s as close as it gets.  Most of our comedy is aimed at making as much fun of others as we can.  We don’t really point the finger at ourselves as much.  Dave Chappelle used to do it, but still his was infused with a bit of bravado, it was rarely ever REALLY self-depreciatory and surely not self-loathing.

Black folk are really sensitive by nature.  We take slights (real and percieved) personally and it kind of gives our comedy it’s distinguishing character.  Watch the Original Kings of Comedy, especially Steve Harvey and D.L. Hughley’s sets to get an idea of what I’m talking about.

Anyway I’m going to check out Paul Shirley’s book because I know I’ll enjoy it.  Who knows, maybe I’ll be inspired by it to come out with my own missive that will probably be as poorly read as this entry.

Oh, I almost forgot, go vote if you haven’t already:

Well first, shameless plug time.  For whatever reason I’ve been nominated for a Black Weblog Award!  Can you believe it?  So yeah, stop everything, and vote for me (only vote once though!!).

So yeah, I’ve been asked a few times at various points about my opinion on the whole Michael Vick thing.

*sigh*

Well, as you can imagine I’m ambivalent about it.  On one hand, he’s a stupid dude.  Plain and simple.  As one of the people who helped to "break" the story about the NFL banning people from buying Falcons #7 jerseys with the last name Mexico on it (true story, I told Errin about my failed efforts in procuring one and then she wrote the story for the AP newswire), I’m pretty familiar with the depths (or lack) of Vick’s intelligence and decision making.  He surrounded himself with the type of element that can lead to trouble, especially when you are a "yes man" yourself.  Vick seems like he makes the easy decision and doesn’t put much thought into it.  It kind of translates to his play on the gridiron.  When he’s thinking, in short, he’s stinking.  His best games come when he plays instinctually.

Unfortunately, living instinctually usually leads to the poorhouse, the jailhouse, or both.  My boy Ronnie Mex was wrong.  There is no bout adoubt it! (shouts out to my boy Bubs on The Wire!).

However (and you knew that was coming), I think the whole thing has been handled poorly by the media who once again find an excuse to PILE onto a black athlete, in the same way they pile on Barry and OJ (okay bad example on the last one).

But follow me….WELL before Ronnie Mex pled guilty on those charges, he was convicted in the court of public opinion.  It seems to me that people (I would say white people….but a few black folks who prolly won’t vote for Obama either, but that’s another entry) love dogs more than they love people.  Never mind that in Pampalona, Spain every year, people act an ass for the chance to be run over by a bull, and then later pack into arenas to watch a man stab said bull to death.  Oh but that’s artistic.

Nevermind that the Pit Bull got it’s name from the not so ancient bloodsport of BAITING.  Badger baiting, bull baiting, dog baiting….you name it.  BloodSPORTs founded for the most part in Europe.  Bulldogs, the BULLY breeds were bred with fighting in mind.  I’m not saying that anyone who fights dogs is right….nothing like that, but you have to wonder with millions of the animals out there, they didn’t come from out of the blue.  Vick and his cohorts weren’t the first and won’t be the last, but I guess someone high profile has to be made an example of.

Then you have the matter of race…you can’t avoid it no matter how you may want to try.  I’m not saying it’s right, but if it were Jeff Garcia embroiled in this fiasco I can’t say he’d be getting the same treatment.  You have to do something pretty egregious for the media to pile in on you as a white athlete.  Rafael Palmiero got CAUGHT in a lie under oath to Congress, Barry Bonds has been found guilty of nothing!  They haven’t even so much as found a corked bat or a bottle of andro in Barry’s locker, but the media has piled onto him as if he exhumed Ty Cobb’s grave and took a dump in his skeletal mouth.  Vick got caught in the same type of media witch hunt mentality.  Once again, I’m not saying he’s right, but they are blowing it out of proportion!  WAY out of proportion.

So how do I feel about Vick.  He’s going to get some disproportionate punishment, but ultimately it’s his fault.  Honestly, I’m more upset about the prospects of the Falcon’s season as a result.  I’ve been going around saying that the Falcons can win 11 games with Joey Harrington, but that’s just me being an overzealous Falcons fan.  I wish some people saved their zeal for NFL fandom instead of riling up lynch mobs, but such is life.

So I was chilling at this bar on Broadway and Division enjoying a beer or 4 with some classmates when I got the following text from my homie Deah:

"Dude, you’re a celebrity!  Black blogger achievement award! LOL.  Interesting timing given the last blog entry I read over there.  Congrats!"

It took a second for it to register with me.  Then I remembered that the homie Leon won one last year.

I don’t even know what to say man!  Lifetime achievement?!   Honestly I haven’t done much other than share the mundane details of my life!  I’m flattered and kinda feel like I don’t belong, but someone feels like I do….so…..

Vote for me if you read this:  http://www.blackweblogawards.com/database/step1.php

Wow man….

I learned alot of what I know from my boy Geoff, for better or for worse.  One of his favorite phrases is "what cut of n*gga?", usually in exasperation about some egregious breach of man law committed by some dude or the other around here.

It used to be almost instinctual, it being man-law and a man’s strict adherence to it.  You didn’t need beer commercials with a square table to know what and how to say, especially as it regards women.  But somewhere along the way things changed.  Guys started getting desperate/pressed and then started to behave wrecklessly.  It used to be that if a guy counted another guy as a friend there were certain rules he had.  These rules were unspoken, but we all knew them.

You never talked bad about another guy for personal gain.  You never made a move on a girl your boy was serious about.  You never, ever volunteered information about your boy to ANYONE that may be to his detriment.  It wasn’t just about YOU, you had other people in mind.

No longer I say…..NO LONGER.  I don’t know what it is, whether it’s the lack of male role models or the Bush Gas Price like inflation in the price (and power) of the pussy, but niggas are out of line lately.

Now "men" routinely play games of one-upmanship in efforts to curry favor.  They gossip.  They backbite.  Slowly but surely things we as men used to characterize as womanly traits are becoming "manly" traits.  Maybe it’s a part of the whole "metrosexual" trend.  Who knows?

There used to be a code of ethics…or better yet, an honor among theives.  A bond, a fraternity, whatever you want to call it.  But increasingly with these younger cats, that is gone.

Being the man that I am, I’ll adapt, but at the same time I’ll try to hold true to what I know is right and just, pussy be damned.  There are too many fish in the sea for me to act an ass to impress this small microcosm here.  I refuse to be a part of this new cut of n*gga.

Things change in life.  Very rarely do things just up and do a 180 though.  Most of the time, the change is insidious.  You start off drinking a beer here or there, and next thing you know, you are hosting kegs at your apartment and drink a six pack in a sitting.  You look up one morning and you are 30 pounds heavier and unable to fit your favorite suit.  Things change all around you without you really knowing it.  And the next thing you know you aren’t the same guy you were.

I used to love writing on this blog.  I didn’t think I was that interesting of a guy and I CERTAINLY didn’t think I was all that good a writer.  Hell I was a B average at best, back in the HEIGHT of my English class days.  But somehow I got drawn into the hype, my own hype and the hype of others who told me I was a good writer.  I became a blogging machine.  Then things happened.  I started taking part in things that took more of my time.  My money situation changed, I wasn’t able to afford the internet anymore, other blogging sites popped up that took part of my blogging energy, I joined fifty million message boards.  Next thing you know I blog maybe once or twice a month.  What happened?

I’ll tell you what happened.  Something I once loved and prioritized highly fell in rank.  I don’t have the passion anymore.  I don’t think to myself at various parts of the day, "hey, I should blog about that".  Most shockingly, sometimes I forget….yes FORGET, that this site exists.  I have to remind myself, damn I have a website.

So I say all that to say…things have to end some day.  Hell, if Joe left facebook at the drop of a hat, I KNOW I can up and leave this site.  The cobwebs are unappealing.  I’m not saying it’s over, but I’ll say this much.  This site officially has a DNR on record for it.  Don’t try to ventilate it or save it if and when that time comes to say goodbye.  When it’s over, it’s over.

I was hedging y’all.  I really was hedging on whether or not I was going to attend Westlake Class of 1997’s Ten Year Reunion.  I was thinking to myself, "It’s not a big deal, you’ve seen most of the folks you wanted to see…."

I came VERY, VERY close to not going.  But I paid my money and I went and I had a great, GREAT time.

The planning committee did an excellent, OUTSTANDING job picking spots for us (especially the bowling alley….if you are in Atlanta, go to Ten Pin Alley at Atlantic Station!).  But more than that it was really good to see how folks have grown and evolved.

Whatever "bad blood" that was there was kept to a minimum and people behaved civily.  People have gained husbands/wives and kids.  People are doing big things in their respective areas of expertise.

Would you believe we really ARE taking the world by storm.  I guess our motto was prophetic!

Here’s to 10 more!

Oh and Kendra, you and the whole committee get an A+!

The other day I was sitting talking to this girl and I thought to myself, "Killa you really have your swagger back".  It wasn’t a girl I was trying to get at or anything like that, just a girl.  But I could just feel that feeling, like I was COMMANDING attention.  I used to feel like that ALL of the time, but you know I sorta lost it way back when.  But man, I am back for real.

I feel more confident, I feel more self-assured, and I feel more in control than I’ve felt since the last part of undergrad!  And you know what it feels good.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have no game, and I still overshoot when it comes to the ladies, but you know you can’t change a leopard’s spots.

Anyway….so far the VA is pretty cool, though the patients there are ACUTELY ill there.  Like I’m pretty sure one of the patients that my team covered has either passed away already or will before I go back tomorrow morning.  Still it feels good to do something other than manage chronic diabetes and chronic hypertension.  That’d drive me mad!

Everyone wants to know what kind of medicine I’m going to practice.  I honestly have NO idea at all right now.  I know I have been working with some really good docs lately and it makes it that much harder to make a decision.  I guess I still have time to lollygag a little, but not much!