@BLK_PEEPSTOP No. VI

stop treating other black people when they approach u as if they r incompetent. stop ignoring other black people whenwant to work 4 u

black people u must go about running ur small business with an initiative for future black social change.

black people if u own a small business u can find a black cpa through NABA & if u type in black lawyers association on the web many pop up

some1 said “i’ll never switch from my russian, guy he saves me money.” black slaves saved america money, but america isn’t loyal 2 us. Hmmm!

This tweet was born out of my fantasy that when I passed the CPA Exam, as a Black American CPA, I’d be able to walk up to any Black American business owner, Black American celebrity, Black American NBA/NFL player, Black American rapper and have a brief conversation with them bestowing the knowledge that I was a Black American CPA, pass them my card, we’d exchange information and the person would automatically become a client. My line of thinking was that individual Black American professionals would be delighted to work with other competent, affable, congenial and convivial Black American professional individuals to handle their business matters.

Once I moved to New York, I found a Black American doctor and a Black American dentist. I think of Chris Rock’s comedy skit: “The only Black people who live in my neighborhood are Jay Z, Mary J. Blige and me. Across the street lives a dentist. You know what a Black American dentist would have to do to live in my neighborhood? HE WOULD HAVE HAD TO CREATE TEETH!” This wouldn’t be necessarily true if all of the Black American elite music and movie celebrities, as well as sports stars who live in New York or pass through on assignment would go visit Catrisse Williams, VIP Smiles for their 6 month cleaning or cosmetic dental work. It should be automatic. But Black American people do not think like this.

When I first passed my CPA Exam it was NFL Draft night 2011. I had printed up some make shift cards with the name of my CPA firm and phone number on them. I went and snuck into GreenHouse night club on the corner of Vandam and Varrick Street. As soon as I hit the entrance door to the club, I was looking Shaunie O’neal and Evelyn Lazoda right smack in the face. I had seen Shaunie O’neal earlier in the day at the Converse store on Broadway in SoHo on my lunch break from work.

I thought to approach her, as I felt pretty confident in my outfit, intelligence and articulation, but didn’t have a speech exactly prepared to speak about the subject of becoming her CPA, and plus she had a friend with her so I let the opportunity pass.

In the club I was armed with cards to pass them out to people in VIP and trying to make deals with the pretty ladies in VIP to connect with the guys with money for a commission; with the music blaring, they either could not hear me or had no clue what I was talking about. I approached a few guys who appeared to have money or were brawny enough to be new NFL draftees or current players in the league standing directly inside the section off from the VIP area; they nodded their heads, took my card and went about their way. I made my way over to speak briefly with Shaunie, as I was too afraid to tell her I was a CPA who’d like to work for her, I simply asked her had she noticed me in the Converse store earlier that day. She said something back to me which I could not hear, we smiled at each other and that was that. I had also passed a card to Evelyn Lazoda and said something to the effect of, “I’m a CPA, take my card. I want to make sure you and Ochocinco don’t go broke.” She looked at me in stupefaction, took the card, I bid her a nice night and that was that. Shaunie’s boyfriend at the time was a light skinned young model. She was in the Converse store that day purchasing black Chuck Taylor sneakers for him that he had on his feet that night. I talked with him in the hallway leading to the entrance/exit about being his CPA. He sold me the story that his agency takes care of that business for him. I next bumped right into and gave a card to the boxer Zab Juda, he looked at me as if I was stupid or he didn’t know what I was talking about. At one point, I was standing next to a guy who had on a diamond necklace, I think his name was Pierre. He was in ear shot of me and we could hear each other very well, he said to me, “I have about three CPAs who work for me.” He took my card. I saw him later at the diner on 23rd St. driving a metallic blue S550 Benz AMG, getting out of the car clearly inebriated. I spoke with him once more and showed concern for his safety, which Pierre assured me, he would be OK. He was the guy I had most contact with that night in passing inside the club and at the diner. I never heard from him.

It seems as if on the surface, Black American people take other Black American professionals (CPAs, Lawyers) for granted as not knowing how to handle business. I have asked many Black American business owners in Bed-Stuy the, “whose your CPA?” question. A partner of the Therapy Wine Bar, told me someone they’ve used for 16 years whom I found out was some guy out in Benson Hurst Brooklyn, NY of all places; a place where a Black American man couldn’t mistakenly be caught in the neighborhood or he would be beat, occasionally to death, as was Yusef Hawkins in 1989. One partner of the Voudou Bar said they use some Russian guy who specialized in bars and that he saved them so much money in setting up the POS system, etc, and went into how they wouldn’t have time for me to learn their business and/or make mistakes; therefore they would never hire me as the main CPA of the bar that I’d supported with my dollars as a patron, as does many other Black American persons in the neighborhood, simply because it’s Black American owned. They would not grant a Black American CPA the same courtesy their business was thriving on. Of course this conversation was taking place on a Saturday night, with me being full of liquid courage (though, I do not think the person knew that) and I have not had a chance to initiate a formal meeting; I’ll let you know how that goes.

I recently read a book called “how to get anyone to SAY YES, in 8 minutes”. What I learned is that when persons are approached by someone they are not familiar with or have no prior relationship, their automatic unconscious response to any offer you make to them is repulsion. People do not know they behave in this fashion; this, on the surface explains why when approaching celebrities or sports players in a club, they are befuddled by my approach and I never hear from them. The NBA/NFL trains athletes to be on guard for people who try and sell them on business investments or financial advisement services, (not absolutely sure if they train them to be leery of Black American people; but looking at how adamantly they tried to convince LeBron James to not let his close, past high school state championship bound, team mates/friends handle his business affairs, I wouldn’t doubt it). Even with the hermetic club scenery and training of freshly minted millionaires to be on guard, I have read of many financial advisors, CEOs of hedge funds and stock brokers meeting clients sitting next to a pool on vacation or in a country club, being handed brochures out the trunk of a person’s car and later following up to do significant business with that person. So while it’s understood about the unconscious response, shouldn’t there also be an override to get to a positive response, at least to exchange telephone numbers and let the person work to set up a proper meeting, when approached by someone from your own race, whom you know is limited in opportunity and resources, whom you share many cultural traits and shibboleths, seemingly intelligent and articulate with enough nerve and chutzpah and ingenuity to approach you; at the very least, a hustler, grinding to make his/her life legally better?

I have tried to get persons I’ve been associated with all my teenage years and the bulk of my adult life, from my hometown where I grew to get me a meeting with NFL players they were directly related to in reference to being their CPA or giving me a reference to another rookie player or just giving me tips as to what they expect out of their professional CPA who handles their tax filings or financial management. I was granted no such meetings nor spoke with the players to receive no such advice or references.  No other race behaves in this manner and it is a PURE SHAME and lack of intelligence and non-support on our part as a race perpetually discriminated against by every other race within America.

As the population continues to grow within America, as immigrants legal and illegal enter the country with their hunger for survival and – find a needle in a haystack – work ethic, and government relief (Welfare and Affirmative Action) roles continue to get smaller and/or non-existent, it is imperative we as Black American people, especially those of us who are entrepreneurs do business with one another, establish scholarships to put our children (especially young men) through universities, teach them through interning and apprenticeship and hire them into long-term gainful employment positions. For Black American people and Black American men to survive, going forward, there must be an effort to trust in the education and work ethic of ourselves; even switching out the professional services that were sought upon persons of other races and replacing them with future growing professionals of our own race and culture. It is not a matter of reverse discrimination, but a matter of survival and a reprove to a system that has always treated us unfairly and will continue to do so. An interpolation of a lyric by Phife from A Tribe Called Quest in which he said, “Ego, I’m on my own jock still / cause if I don’t say I’m the best  / tell me who the hell will” (“Word Play” Beats Rhymes and Life album) I say “BLACK AMERICAN PEOPLE  / we must be on our own jock still / cause If we don’t say we the best, tell me who the hell will?” NO ONE!

Jrnl Entry No. 1.17.2003

I’ve just decided that I am not working today. We get off at three o’clock in celebration of Martin Luther Da King Holiday. Today is my mother’s – Birthday. She just got out of the hospital for infectious blood, causing blood clots in her pelvic area hindering her ability to walk. She was just in the hospital for two months. I went to see her a month ago and ruined my Christmas vacation days but I guess you have to do those type of things you know.

My Christmas was nothing to brag about. I was invited over to my girlfriend’s house for dinner with her father and her daughter. Her mother was at work and her aunt who stays there was at another relative’s house so they filled the void with me. Any other time I’m not allowed to step foot in the apartment.

My New Years was alright. I met this girl by the name of Evette the Saturday before New Years at a party my friend threw at the Supper Club in Manhattan. She looked nice at the party in black pants and a white top. She seemed as if she was skinny. She is my age or a little older and she is a teacher. I was mad at my girlfriend at the time. She hadn’t called me in like three days. I went to Evette’s brother’s house to a little corny New Years house party. When I first saw her brother I originally thought that he was gay. I came to find out that he was far from gay, but maybe a little in the closet bi-sexual. He had two kids, a boy and a girl, and a sexy ass fiancé. His fiancé was short and light skinned, short length hair, and had a big round ole ass that I was staring at all night.

Evette was all corny looking in some corny jeans, a corny little top with her stomach out which was not toned; not really fat, but just not toned. She was a little heavier than what I originally thought at the club though. She had on some corny sneaker shoes that she may have picked up from one of those $39.99 stores on 125th St. in Harlem. We danced a little at the party and drank a little. At 3 A.M. I left. She must did not like me neither because we haven’t talked again after that night.

I crossed the Tri-Boro Bridge. I gave some white guy begging to pay the toll to take him over the bridge, a ride. I probably shouldn’t have done that. He could have killed me but I took a chance. He just wanted a ride, not to have to take a long train ride to get to the same place right across the bridge.

I went to Astoria Projects where my girlfriend lives and said she’d be over her friend’s house getting drunk for the night. I called her to find that she was at the Project Juice bar at a neighborhood party. I told her that I was coming there. I went and they tried to front and not let me in the door like it was some fancy club in Manhattan. I called her back and told her to come outside since they wouldn’t let me in. She told the guy at the door to let me in. They were charging $10.00 to get in there and I paid it; a free drink came with the $10 entrance fee. I went to the bar to try and get a Hennessy and Remy Martin drink. The guy told me that mixed drinks don’t come free with his stupid ass. He should know that Hennessy cost more than Remy Red so his overhead would have been cheaper if he would have mixed the drink than just give me straight Henny which is what I asked for after he told me that stupid shit.

The party was alright, full of all the hood rats, men and women from the neighborhood. Bonet, Watrina’s friend was there with her, and she was in the mood to dance. She was bobbing her head to the music. She had on this red outfit and was looking corny to me because it didn’t fit her body right and tight, or maybe she just doesn’t have a body like that. When we got outside later that night, I realized that the outfit was an Echo Red velour suit. She had on some blue and white Tims with it and it just didn’t go.

Watrina was in a dancing mood. We started dancing; me, her and Bonet. Watrina left me to go and dance with someone else she knew from the hood. I just chilled in the area where we were standing. I noticed every time she turned around the guy she was dancing with would purposely move his pelvis forward to put his dick on her ass. One time, he was pointing at her ass as she turned around. I didn’t trip. He was drunk, oh well. Another time she danced with another guy and he was doing the same thing when she turned around right there in front of my face. When she got done dancing with him, I told her, “please don’t put your ass on niggaz dicks in front of me.” She was like, “chill, I’m in my neighborhood.” I just repeated myself because I see these corny ass mutha fuckaz pushing their dick out every time she turned around. I didn’t mind her dancing, but the grinding shit had to go. I told her that I could go home if that is what she wanted to do. She went over and started dancing with some other guy. I saw her being a little more careful about him putting his dick on her ass. But I wasn’t really paying her any attention at that point.

I was sitting there chilling and some drunk lady came over telling me how good I looked, that I couldn’t be from around Astoria, etc. I danced with her and she wanted me to grind on her, but I don’t believe in pushing my dick on no bitch ass but the bitch I am fucking. If a bitch turn around and she puts her ass on my dick like this girl was doing, I just dance normal and do my thing. But these niggaz dancing with Watrina were like, once she turned around, running to grind on her ass. Her friend Ney, when she heard me telling Watrina to stop putting her ass on niggaz dicks in front of me, started screaming out, “don’t be the jealous boyfriend, she is going home with you tonight,”

When Watrina saw that one girl grinding on me she came over there to break that shit up. The girl was telling her that I loved her (Watrina) because I wouldn’t grind her ass and I had told her that I was there with Watrina. The night went smoothly. Watrina’s friend Temeace, whom Watrina thinks I like, showed up and we danced a little. There wasn’t but one bitch other than Watrina that I would have talked to in there that night. Some dark skinned shorty with a weave in her hair, a little fat ass, etc. I should have talked to her when Watrina left after our short argument and she went to dance with another guy, whom they were in each other’s ear for a minute.

Watrina does what she does but when I do the same shit she gets mad and bitch about it just like I do. She really doesn’t know how to handle this serious relationship which is what I think we have. But she is learning. I love her and want to work with her to make it work because I think we can have a good future together.

I had to leave her by herself in a club last week. She was acting like she didn’t want to be there with me so I went off by myself to do my thing. She was complaining from the moment she stepped out of the car; about her feet, she didn’t have any money. When we got inside she didn’t take off her coat. She moved from sitting with me because she said she wanted to get out of this lighted area where we were sitting. Maybe she didn’t want somebody, one of her friends to spot her there with me. I don’t know, but I wasn’t feeling at all that she wanted to be there with me. When I came back to meet with her because it seemed to me that she was gonna sit there all night, she was gone. I searched the club for her and didn’t find her. I went outside and called her and left a message on her machine and I went home. She didn’t call me Saturday.

Saturday night Carol Ann, whom I’ve been fucking with the whole time I’ve known Watrina; she called and I went to her house in Jersey and spent the night. I didn’t come home till the next night like 9 P.M. I then went to the TIKI ROOM, this Sunday night spot that is free to get into. I buy me a French Connection “Grand Marnier and Hennessy and I usually chill, talk to a few honey’s that I view as worthy of me stepping to them, and try to meet people in the music industry. This night I met my man Zero and we were chillin’ and talking. He bought me a second drink so I was real drunk after that. I was following this little short sexy dark skinned young lady by the name of Kim around. I probably could have gotten with her but by the end of the night I was so drunk I left and had forgotten all about her, as I did the week before, about this girl from Harlem whose number I thought I could have gotten. She was dark skinned and thick.

I’ve met a few people at the TIKI ROOM. I met Rockwilder there and talked to him about Hip Hop Production. I met Yogi of the one album group, “CRU”. He produced that whole album and I thought it was incredible. I met Pharoach Monche also. I tried to talk to him about getting a track on his album since he said he was working on it. He said it was finished though. They say they are gonna charge to get in the TIKI ROOM next week. It’s a cool spot and I like it so I’ll pay $10 to get in, definitely not $20 though.

I’ve been goin’ out every since the holidays, spending money that I don’t have. My electric is out in my apartment and I am not paying my landlord no money till he fix that shit. It’s been out for a month now. So I’ve been spending the rent money. I’m about to spend this half I got now on a trip to Atlanta for the All Star Weekend. I asked Watrina to send me but I don’t think she is. I guess she doesn’t want to feel like she is playing herself by sending me on a party trip. I told her that I would like to see my father which I would since I haven’t seen him in like 4 years. I’ma have to ask her again.

Watrina spends so much money I don’t see what is wrong with her spending a little on me. She bought me two pair of jeans for Christmas the day after Christmas from The Atrium. She took me shopping with her. She bought herself three pair of A.G. Jeans. I forget the name of the designer, but those are the initials. The jeans cost like $169 a pair. The total bill came up to like $579 and she thought that was cheap. One pair of my jeans cost $40 on sale, originally $79; the other pair cost $99, originally $139. I’ve bought some shirts to go with the jeans and a few pair of sneakers.

I hope Watrina reimburses me or this stuff or pays my rent because if she doesn’t I’m in trouble. She is trying to break up with me for leaving her at the club but I won’t let her. We’ve made love and spent a few nights together since that night. She could be just using me till she finds another guy but I doubt it and if she is, I’ll live. She told me that a guy like me in NY is hard to find, with his own apartment, car, nice job, big dick, etc. She says she know a few guys whose dick’s aren’t the size of mine on soft when they are hard. That shit just blows up my head a little.

Women always complain about finding a good man. I think I am good so I naturally think that any woman should be happy with me. I got many if not all of the qualities that they say they look for in a man. That is why when a bitch don’t do what I want her to do, I don’t talk to her for a few days to let her think about what she will lose if she don’t act right. If she gets too bad, I’ll break out. But I got to cut that shit out especially with Watrina because she is too young to be putting up with that shit and she is showing and telling me that she is not gonna put up with it. But I’d rather just walk away and not talk for a few days than have a big argument and still not talk for a few days. I’m finding out that is a bad way to handle the situation with your partner. If I ever want to keep a mate and I do want to keep Watrina, I better stop that shit.

Boy Watrina has done a number on me. She’s always thonged out. He ass, though it looks flat in some jeans that she wears, is so soft and jello-like when it is in my hands. I love when she rides my dick and her ass flaps up and down on my dick. I just bust a big ole nut and let the feel good out. I like her little cute tidies. We have a good sex life. She ain’t afraid to put the dick in her mouth neither. She licks my ass at times when she is sucking my dick. I guess she felt how good it felt when I do it to her when I lick her pussy and ass hole; she decided to return the good feeling to me. Now I got to work her up to making me cum in her mouth from sucking my dick. If we get married, I told her that I’m fucking her in her ass on our honey moon, or soon after. Now that would be the ultimate sex life without being a swing couple. I can’t let Watrina go because a good sex life; with style, money, not fat and flabby, and who is willing to take care of me, hit me off with some doe when I need it; I’d be a fool to let that go and I’ma hold on as long as I can. She probably thinks the same thing about me so maybe we will make it.

The re-po man is after my car since I haven’t paid my car payment in like 3 months. They called my apartment in Queens. At first I wondered how they got the number, but that was easy because it is a listed number. They still have no clue that it’s me who lives there though. They tried calling my mother saying they had an insurance check for me and could they send it to the Jackson St. Address. So apparently they’ve done a little research and found out where I used to live in the past and present. I don’t park my car in front of my apartment building so they may find it, they may not; if they do that will be fucked up.

It will be good to have the money in my pocket. Maybe I’ll live like a real New Yorker spending the money I would on a car payment and take cabs here and there with some of the money; rent cars to go to Ohio to pick up my daughter, etc. It will probably be a cheaper move actually than paying $342 a month for a car payment. I dropped my insurance two years ago, they are also looking for the car for that purpose. We’ll see if they find it though. If they do, it’s not worth much with 112,000 miles and it’s only 4 years old, so they won’t be able to sell it for much if they do get it back. I’ve gotten my money’s worth out of it; driven to Mississippi, to Atlanta, back and forth numerous times to Ohio and New York.

My finances are all fucked up. I consider myself a failure in life because of that fact. I’m nowhere in life right now; further than a lot of niggaz, but still nowhere to my standard of living. My apartment is raggedy, I don’t have all the clothes I want, I don’t have a dime in the bank, just debt, and that is a fucked up way to live. Watrina I my emergency money, and that shit is not always gonna be there so I better not get too used to it. I’ll get this shit together one day but until then I’m livin’ on the edge trying to get into this music industry and make money which there is no guarantee that I will make a lot of money doing that. All this make me constantly say that life is bullshit. But Oh Well.

Jrnl Entry No. 12.30.2002

So the year is over. My relationship with Watrina is about to be over. We lasted a year and eight months. I guess that is good for her being a – year old who said she didn’t want to be in a relationship anyway. I really dove in with her though. She was my girl. I took her to meet my whole family. I took her on a trip to Florida to meet my cousin/brother Romeo and his wife and kids. Nothing all that bad happened in our relationship except that she talked to a lot of guys claiming that they were friends. I don’t really think that she was fucking any of them, but I’m a realist who will never eliminate the possibility. I’ve been fucking with Carol Ann ever since I met Watrina so whatever she has done to betray me, I’ve done much worse. I was fucking Coffee for about six months of the time. I fucked Sausha a few times in Warren and she even came and stayed a week with me while Watrina was in Jamaica. I fucked three little neighborhood girls on sort of a steady basis for like three months. I fucked Haitie whom I met taking deposits to the bank for my job.

So trust, if Watrina did fuck Thurston who she went on a trip to Vegas with; if she fucked Lamont who used to call her every day; if she did fuck Catcher whom I’d catch looking at her ass on our meetings together because she was his fashion label consultant; if she’s went out with the last guy she gave her number to on the street (the 908 guy); if she fucked the guy she met at her job and told me that she thought he was gay, and the next thing I know he was on her cell phone leaving her a message; if so, I’ve did all the same, so oh well. I haven’t spoken to her in two days. She hasn’t called me and I haven’t called her. If she doesn’t call me by 12 A.M. tomorrow night, I’m calling her the next day and I will say, “this relationship is officially over.” I met this — year old teacher at the Supper Club on Saturday night. So now I have a woman who is older than I am and I will see the difference in the relationship.

I threw all of myself at Watrina and she didn’t do the same. She’s just now starting to show me that she loves me, but this not calling me is not cool. We’ve had two arguments in the last two weeks that have resulted in us not speaking. This last one I thought was cool because I left a message on her phone that it was O.K. I’d make an adjustment in my attitude and we’d move on, but she never responded. Watrina has a bright future ahead of her from what I can tell. She gonna make lots of money and be well off. With a good responsible man by her side, won’t be no stopping her. I thought that man could be me but it’s not looking like that will be the case. My prediction is that she will be pregnant within a year of us breaking up, and trying to make a relationship work with that guy. Good luck to her.

I’m a little scared by our break up but not broken down. I’m not old enough to be trying to save a bitch as if my life depended on it. I still got years left in me before I get to that point. I’ve taken Watrina back at my angriest points and settled and called her on many occasions and apologized to her for the simplest of things and taken her back when she was on my last nerve. BUT THIS IS IT! She has never apologized for nothing that she has done or made me upset about. I’M DONE!

I was out last night with my man Aderale who popped into town for the New Year I guess. He showed up here Saturday night unannounced, which is not bad. I ain’t on that shit really, but maybe he should have called because he traveled here five or six hours. What if I already had visitors or I was out of town. I guess he was just bored and wanted to do something and didn’t care if I was here or not, he just would have went somewhere else I guess. We went to the TIKI ROOM on 22nd St in Manhattan last night. I was politickin’ in there about my music pretty well I thought. I met this producer YOGI who produced one of my favorite Hip Hop albums, “CRU, Da Dirty 30”. Yogi gave me his number so I’ma try to get in the studio with him and check what he is doing and learn the business from him if he lets me. I got a few other numbers of rappers to send my beat CD to for a listen. I saw Pocahanas from Makin The Band. I didn’t know her but Aderale did. I never saw the show. I got her manager contact to get some beats to her. She raps and sings.

I’m not getting down on myself about this music shit. I have a whole new attitude about it. I wasn’t even excited about getting Yogi’s number or whoever else’s I got last night. If it happens it will happen if it is meant to be. That is how Watrina viewed our relationship and now it is about to be over. She never took it too serious I guess all that much so I’m gone. 2003, single to find a new bitch. I met this girl Julia last night from London. I like the look of her. I gave her my number because she said that she didn’t have a phone yet because she and friends moved here. I hope she calls me.

I’m going in debt by going out like I’ve been. As of now, I’m $100 in the hole. I’ll take it out of my rent money since my landlord hasn’t fixed my electrical outlets or hasn’t had them looked at by an electrician. I’m trying to get in contact with this guy who does photo shoots of nude guys for gay magazines. He says he’ll pay $250 per session that he uses you for. Maybe I can make a lot of extra money that way. I seem to have a nice body. I have heard too many times that I have a long big dick so that must be true; so maybe this, taking nude pictures for a gay magazines, will pay off if a big way. If not, I’ll probably just end up disgracing myself. But I need more money and I can’t think of any other way to make a quick $250. It is the only option I have so I’m taking it. I got to do what I have to do to survive and live how I want to live.

I haven’t talked to my daughter in two weeks. Her mom took her down south or somewhere for Christmas and didn’t bother to call and tell me. Maybe she is mad because I keep half the child support sometimes when I need it. I do that because she gets my tax return money. I mean hell, I need some relief from somewhere. Who’s gonna pay me back for when she was being unreasonable and not letting me see my daughter? She’ll eventually get all the money paid back to her somehow.

My finances are getting so fucked up. I had to pay $802.00 to get this lady’s hood fixed after Watrina tried to throw her daughter’s bike at me and missed and the bike landed on the hood of my neighbor’s car, and then she took the bike and broke out my rear car window. In all I paid out $1,300 which came from not paying my car note which is already on my credit report as being late because I don’t pay the extra $55 a month for an insurance fee after I dropped my full coverage insurance because I couldn’t afford it two years ago.

FUCK IT, is what they say, because you only live once right? That is why I fuck the way I do because it is or was my only source of entertainment. With hardly no money to go out and Watrina not being there half the time for me, it left a lot of time to fuck other bitches who wanted some.  I mean “I ain’t married right?” Isn’t that the statement to shove off the guilt of cheating on someone? SO FUCK IT! I just hope this behavior doesn’t carry over into when I do get married because that will be trouble.

I hope this music shit or something comes through for me with a nice size check in the next year or two because I sure need it. If not, I guess I’ll live like most, with fucked up credit and no money, moving from job  to job for a higher salary of thousands, of which I’ll only receive a few hundred because of taxes.

I tell you, life is bullshit. They say even with all the money problems solved, you still have problems, so when does it ever end; when you are dead? Makes you almost want to kill yourself to think about it. Fuck that, I got to have a win situation in life somewhere in the future. Everybody lives for a better future. I live for a better financial future, a better relationship future, to accomplish my music dreams in the future.

What am I living for today when I think about it? I guess I’m living to get home and relax. I’m living to get home and cook me a chicken dinner. I’m livin to get to Justin’s tonight to maybe meet more music people or meet a nice young lady. I’m living for Watrina to call me and ask what is wrong and how can she fix it. I’m living for the next time, which may be tonight, to talk to my daughter on the telephone. That is about all I can think of. But living for those things, am I happy?

I guess they all will make me happy, but I don’t feel they will make me as happy as being in the studio with Yogi recording a Black Rob song for Bad Boy Entertainment, or being a mid to big name producer in the studio with my second greatest rapper of all time as of now, NAS. KRSONE holds the crown for his 15 years of rockin’ his genre and generation. Tupac and BIGGIE haven’t gotten that time in so they don’t get a crown. I’ve already discussed that issue so it’s dead just like they are.

I have an open mind about the future at times, but most of the time I am pessimistic about it. I’m pessimistic about life: my wife will cheat on me and me probably on her; a divorce is possible if I get married; I may not make it in music; I may not get anywhere in this accounting career of mine neither; I don’t see a prosperous future with minor or major riches. I don’t know man I don’t know, but I’ma KIM (Keep It Movin) That I all any man can do. KEEP IT MOVIN!

@BLK_PEEPSTOP No. V

y do u think u c white people always jogging n winter spring summer fall? it helps u live longer & the oxygen n take makes u smarter.

The “oxygen intake from running makes u smarter” is me being facetious, but the fact may be true. I started running at the age — and while it may not make you smarter, there are some added benefits to it: healthy heart, added life span, weight control, energy boost, solace and peace of mind you experience while pushing yourself through the breathlessness (which eases after 1/2 a mile), ease of stress, added to a sense of accomplishment for running in the first place. In the aspects of solace, piece of mind and accomplishment I would say those are qualities that go along with a person being smarter and thinking clearer.

But back to White American people now; on any given day, at any given time, take a trip to Central Park, the parks along West End/West Side Highway in Manhattan, or along certain sections of the FDR Drive or even walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and there will not be a time that you take one of those trips you will not see White American people running: Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall. There may be a majority of White American people in America who do not run for exercise or sport, but when you take a look around, the majority of the runners anywhere, especially in winter are White American people. My finance remarked to me, day after Thanksgiving, “you goin’ running? It’s cold as hell out here.” To which, I remarked, “people run in the cold”; her response, “yeah, crazy people!” As I continued to walk to the track, I thought to myself, “so Black American of her to say something like that.”          

I’m a proponent of running, exercise, good health, good mind and body. I have yet to run a marathon and probably never will, but never-say-never. Maybe if Black American people took the extra effort to do some exercise which is somewhat arduous and challenging, maybe most  of our great grandparents, great aunts/uncles, grandparents, parents, aunts/uncles would not have died from or currently have diabetes. Or should I say, “most of my…….” And definitely my current generation will not fall victim to the same fate of high blood pressure, heart disease and diabetes complications.

As to the smart White American people thing, I’d be willing to bet, take any middle manager, middle or senior executive of any Fortune 500 company and for the majority of them, running or some other form of semi-strenuous workout activity will be in their exercise regimen; apart of company management and making 6 figure salaries seems smart to me, especially in a capitalistic, materialistic society such as America.

@BLK_PEEPSTOP No. IV

#blackwomen stop going outside in head rags looking like u r walking out on a slv plantation. u look ridiculous, ignorant & pusillanimous!

On the streets of New York City, especially Brooklyn and probably other cities as well, Black American women walk outside with these scarves wrapped around their head and tied into a knot at the front. It looks so Aint Jamaima and servant like. Black American women wear these scarves as if they are a fashion statement; like they are sexy. In actuality, and I do not know how they are impervious to the fact, they make these women look poor, sloppy, unintelligent and spineless. And these are probably women who complain they cannot find a good enough man in their lives.

First of all, if a guy approaches you with this type of scarf tied on your head, he only cares about coitus with you and he, more likely than not, is not all together himself. With the scarf on your head, no man who approaches you has any type of respect for you and probably doesn’t have respect for himself. He’s not prone to satisfy you sexually, probably has low self-esteem and may even beat on you.

These scarves make a woman look lifeless. If you do not mind looking as if you have no courage and no respect for yourself, by all means, continue to go outside with these head rags tied around your hair.

Jrnl Entry No. 9.28.2002

My girlfriend Watrina told me that I gave her a little STD. I don’t understand how because I have had no symptoms of an STD. I guess it is possible since I’m fuckin Carol Ann, Coffee and Haitie from the bank all raw. I hate condoms. I’ve been fuckin Carol Ann for a year and half now so it didn’t come from her unless the last time she visited her fiancé in LA, he gave it to her. It could have come from Coffee most likely. She is a homeless chick from what I know, always moving around a lot. I shouldn’t be fuckin’ her. I don’t call her, but every time she calls me I go and get her. I just can’t turn down pussy if there is nothing else to do. I guess I’m a sex addict. I could have gotten it from Haitie. She was adamant about me using a condom which means she either does it with condoms all the time, or she knew she had a little bug and didn’t want me to catch it. I’d slip the condom off on her and she wouldn’t even know it. We fucked about two three times. She wouldn’t let me get wild in the ass because she wasn’t comfortable yet and her pussy wasn’t used to me. We stopped talking because she sensed that I had a girlfriend and I broke off a couple of dates with her. She wants a nigga to be there at her every beck and call and I wasn’t because I had a girlfriend.

So I took the prescription that my girlfriend gave me and then what did I do? I went and slept right back with Carol Ann and Coffee in the same night, raw. So now I got to continue to use condoms with my girlfriend, which she wants to until she goes back to the doctor. Then I have to go to the doctor to see if I have anything and then if I do, I have to tell Carol Ann and Cofffee to go to the doctor. It shouldn’t be a problem with either of them. Carol Ann doesn’t know if her fiancé is not sleeping with anyone so she shouldn’t have any questions. Coffee is fucking other people and keeps trying to tell me that she is pregnant. She wants either me or a child support check; neither of which she will get from me. Not because I won’t pay or I’ll disappear, but for reasons that only I know and will never tell if I haven’t told already.

I told Watrina to move in with me but she refuses. If she was there, I wouldn’t be able to fuck these other women. Like Coffee called me at 1 A.M. the other night to come over and I went and got her. I tried to use a condom with her but she wouldn’t let me. Carol Ann got her own place again so I could sneak over her house after work or something if I wished, but I probably wouldn’t if I lived with Watrina.

I really love Watrina. She is a beautiful, sexy, ambitious young lady and all that is a good combination. She treats me very well, better than anybody with the exception of Rebecca. I hope I don’t get busted in all this outside fuckin’ that I’m doin and that we stay together. She is it. And if there is an after her, I’m chillin’ the next time around, just fuckin’, no love unless a bitch is beautiful and has a bright future ahead of her and she wants love.

I got a CD burner now so I don’t have to depend on Medeline to make my beat CDs. I plan on putting like 10 songs on a CD at a time and selling them mix tape style for $10 a pop like DJ Clue. Nobody does that so I hope it comes off and maybe some of my beats will get picked up like that to be on professional albums. I’m now in the process of putting snippets of every song I’ve ever done on a CD. With my next tape, I’ll put the full length songs on a CD.

What is life bringing me, I don’t know? I’m tired of the unknown, but still I’m goin’ slowly and with less fire than before, but I haven’t quit. I’m gonna go until I reach age – and if nothing by then, I’ll go back to school if I’m still working as an accountant, to go and get my MBA. And that is my life plan. I don’t know what else to do. Watrina says I need to be an A&R but you can’t just pop up and be that. A&Rs start as interns; or they get hooked up through friends which I have none in the music industry. She says I should go to some modeling agencies during lunch because I look good. But I don’t have any pictures. She has a $500 camera but hasn’t taken any pictures of me. She took some last year but won’t give them to me to take to agencies because she says they aren’t good pictures.

I don’t know man. I’m trying to talk Watrina into buying this house that my cousin is selling in Ohio. It’s only like $15,000 at most and it already has tenants and all we’d have to do is be landlords and collect $300 a month rent, which will turn into income when the house is paid off. Real Estate is a little plan of mine if I ever get my hands on some money. I’m trying to save a little money now, $25 a paycheck for emergencies or whatever if an emergency never comes up. I’ve been paying my car note like every other month since I’m already classified as late because I won’t pay the $53 a month insurance fee they tacked on when I dropped my insurance about two years ago. That is how I’m livin’. I’m kind of on edge but fuck it, what can I do? Watrina is optimistic about the future, which is another reason why I love her. If I didn’t have her I probably wouldn’t be in New York right now. I don’t even think she knows how much I love and need her right now.

Jrnl Entry No. 9.27.2002

Watrina is getting on my nerves as of late where I’m thinking to just let that shit go and chill. She doesn’t really care about a relationship. She is just goin with the flow of things. I’m about to get on that shit also. I’ve limited my calls to her and my asking her to come and visit me. The past two weekends that her daughter has gone with her father, we haven’t spent them together. The first time because I had Haitie over my house spending the night at my house for a second night to dig the ass out, and what a nice thick, round ass it was. If she had a better job, she’d be in the running to take me away from Watrina especially since Watrina doesn’t seem to care about our relationship all that much at times.

I’m always getting upset, or telling myself to chill about some shit she is not doin’ to my liking. She is just not sweatin’ me enough that’s all it really is and I don’t like that. She seems as if she doesn’t care if I stay or go and I don’t like that. And all she does is fuel my insecurity about her passion in and for this relationship, which is why I got other bitches.

As far as my job goes, I’ve gotten better at it in the last three months. My new boss has shown me some things, or rather I’ve revealed some things to myself in the absence of Laudi. He knew everything so there really was no need to go searching for things like I’ve had to since he left. If you ask me, he was a hindrance to my progression here at the company.

So now at the same time while I kind of like my new boss, she is getting on my nerves. She is diggin’ into old shit and wants me to find the details behind it so that she can clear it up. And granted, that is her job, but damn, slow down, get into the groove of the basic job before you start diggin’ into other shit. She wants to change the process of how everything is working around here all the way down to the computer software that we use. Like for journal entries, she wants a description line for every item in the journal entry. I told her it doesn’t work like that but she wants to see anyway and look into it to see if she can make a way or find a way. I’ve been working with this system for six months, and you have been working with it for one month. I don’t know everything about the system, but I do know that little bit because I tried it due to the fact, just like her, I was able to do that task with the journal entries at another company. In a way I need to be like her and dig into my job like that. She is a little bug-a-boo I tell you man. And she is short too, which makes it worse.  I guess her detail oriented-ness is fueled by little man’s syndrome. She is little so she has to make up for it using other things like doing her job as detailed and perfect as possible. I know she is just trying to do her job well, but at times she gets on my nerves asking for shit.

Everybody seems to be leaving this job. In the last year since 2002, the guy whose place I took, left; my old supervisor left; this cool white guy who was an accounting manager of some sort, left; the AP/AR manager is leaving; and Shaleece is leaving. Like I said, I’m tryin’ to stay for five years and then leave if the money is not right, but if they make the money right, I’ll stay a little longer. But knowing these sucka ass companies like I seem to, by five years end, I’ll probably only be making $50K when I’ll want to be making $60-$65K, and Watrina will be making millions with her clothing company or $80K at her job if she stays there.

I gave the executive in charge of producing commercials a sample CD of my music for possible use in a commercial or two in the future. My guess is that nothing will come of it even though she is talking all optimistic to me like maybe I’ll get my music in a commercial sooner than I think. She mentioned something to me about working for a productions company when I handed her the CD. I wonder is she talking about part time or full time, and if she knows I’m a fulltime salary employee here at this company and I won’t leave my job unless I got a$500,000 advance in my hand and then maybe still not. She, like everyone else probably thinks I’m some young punk who is running around trying to find his place in life. I’m only trying to find my place in the music industry, every other place I pretty much have in order.

Man I look so young. I am – years old and these people around here are telling me I look — to –. This girl said to me that she never would have thought I was older than she, and she is –. She says I better start acting more mature, which I don’t know what she means. She don’t even know me, so I think she is goin off of my baby face alone. I mean how much more mature can I get? I got a full time career job, I got my own apartment that I cook and clean in and pay my rent on time every month. I got my own car that I pay for every month. I got women of all ages. She said that I run around here acting silly, laughing and talking loud, and that is not the case. The gay guy, Gaylynn is silly and loud all the time, way more than me and he is 38.

I don’t know what it is. I’ve grown a little mustache and a goat- t. I dress up in nice casual clothing occasionally, I keep my hair trimmed and shaped up, but yet, I can’t get over these people labeling me as a – year old. But I ain’t worried about it really too much because I have a main woman, and I pay my bills and have a place of my own to live so fuck what they think as long as I got pussy, food, clothing, and shelter, THE FOUR ESSENTIALS OF LIFE! I have no complaints except for being kind of broke, but everything else is peace.

I was so lonely when I first moved here it wasn’t funny. I was jacking off twice a week to fulfill my sexual desire, now I’m having sex four times a week, so that part of my life is great now. I make more money on this job, but my bills are getting higher. My gas and light bill are higher right now due to my mom and Janelle and Aderale staying with me for a month. I’ve also noticed that I leave lights on more than I used to so that is also a problem. My phone bill is getting higher from Watrina and me occasionally dialing *69. But soon, I’ll have all in check. I’ve started a savings plan of $50 a month, which I’ve done for the last three months.

I’m gonna combine that money with a skipped car note and get me a CD burner because Medeline hasn’t been there for me to make CDs. I don’t know what is up with that nigga. He has been acting funny lately. It’s almost like he don’t want to be cool with me anymore. I told him that Watrina wanted some of his CDs to give to people that she meet and he hasn’t given me any. I told him I wanted to do a CD with him and his man and me to give to the lady here at my job for the commercial music and he didn’t return my call. I’m tryin’ to help the dude out and be down with him as well because I think he has a talent for this producing thing. But if he don’t want to be down with me, I’ll stop calling him.

In fact I’m about to stop calling everybody. No one calls me so I ain’t callin’ nobody. I seem to always want to think of my friends and call them to see how they are doin’, but no more. I don’t get a call from a friend, a friend won’t get a call from me. Niggas don’t think about me so I won’t think about them. I guess it’s time to move on with life and stop tryin’ to keep old high school ties and old college ties. Like with my friend Rally Wallsworth. I’ve known this cat since Kindergarten. I’ve called this cat many times over the years but never has he called me once since we been out of high school and he had been at Ohio University for school. He had this girlfriend up there and they were together like 5 years and then she broke up with him. She was a good girl, the kind you marry and cheat on because she is not sexy or freaky enough but she holds down a good job and will be a good mother to your children. She dumped him for this older guy who was in Med School. I guess she was looking for a more stable future than Rally could provide because he was barely making it through college, paying for it on his own, and due to a child support bill taking his money for a kid he had by some other chick while he was with his girlfriend when they had been together for like 2 or 3 years at the time and she forgave him for that shit I guess. But anyway, if I don’t talk to him anymore I’ll see him in Warren on a holiday or something one day and we’ll hug and talk, but fuck that callin’ shit. If you don’t call me, I ain’t callin’ you.

WAS THERE A TIME YOU HAD A BAD BOSS? IT WAS 2002, PEOPLE STILL WERE NOT CALLING PEOPLE! WHY DON’T FRIENDS AND FAMILY CALL EACH OTHER?