categories: BOK!, Muppet Face, Re:Post
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3d_tin_robot

If you’re anything like me, congratulations.  Also, I’d assume you have a problem with staring babies. By that, I mean, babies that stare. In restaurants, parks, planned parenthood, beaches, and sometimes, even through bathroom windows.  Babies are jerks. They have no sense of decency or tact, and take no consideration to the feelings of others.  I be like, “What the ufck is you lookin’ at baby!?” But they just just stare at me with that dumb anus, wide eyed, “Im so new and inquisitive of the world” look. #Dontgimmedatshit.

Often times my reaction is met with a clenched fist, but then I think to myself, “Self, you cant punch a baby. Its not socially acceptable. But self, what should I do?”
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So, in my last post, I briefly mentioned a story involving me, a little African man-doctor, and a forced boner-rub. Welp, here’s the story in its entirety. Originally written in November 2008. It’s kinda lengthy. Enjoy.

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categories: BOK!, Re:Post
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File:Sesamecast1.jpg

I dont know what it did for you, but for me….Sesame Street did absolutely nothing. Well, not as far as educational progression anyway. As an educator, I’d be remiss if I were to deny my teachers, elders and mom dukes that credit. Them motherfreakers put in work, son! However, what it did do was initiate and solidify my affinity for Jim Henson and his creations…as well as provide a program that positively reflected a multicultural cast of people living in an urban surrounding. I mean, dont get me wrong, it taught a n*gga how to count to twelve and sh*t…but, for me…I was more enamoured with the ability to say, “Yo, that lady outside of Big Bird house looks like my Auntie!” An attribute I think is largely overlooked when imparting praise for the 40 year old television series. Or maybe its not overlooked. I dont know. I dont really read a lot of Sesame Street reviews. Anyhow, Im going to countdown my ten favorite characters. Just cause I think it’d be dope. read more »

Screen shot 2009-11-18 at 12.53.45 AM

On the day of my birth, when Jesus first breathed life into my portly, baby brown body, the sky became a rumble, and a voice spoke unto me. “My son,” echoed the voice, “I present to you these four gifts. One, a creative mind, in which to bestow upon the Earth the joy of good prose. Two, a strong heritage. With this, you shall forever be proud and fear no obstacle that lay before you…also, when necessary, you can use it to exploit white guilt. Gifts three and four, you shall let no man tear asunder…and these gifts are, Tootie…and Rudy.”

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