A Forced Hiatus

My dear friends [and associates] -

Due to my heavy procrastination,

I will be taking a two week break

to focus on my many papers and projects.

I need to salvage this semester as best as possible.

I ain't tryna lose that scholarship, ya know?

Anyway, I hope you don't miss my rants too much.

You can still check out my old monologues.

They stay relevant very well.

So, until I finish my last project next Friday,

be well, listeners.

Continue breaking those taboos

and explore who you truly are.

Word.

An Underdog's Triumph

And so it comes down to 3 against 1.
The veterans stand together
as the young challenger recovers
from losing her two partners,
their competence not on par
to take down their opponents
in the two previous rounds.


But the young warrior is confident in her abilities;
even the vets know to stay on their toes.
They have not lost in years,
and tonight will not be an exception.


The challenger takes her mark at the start of the relay
as the veterans post up at their respective station.


The third rounds begins with
the battle of accuracy.
The Yellow vet hits his mark first and drains the container,
but the challenger is not far behind.
As the White vet begins the battle of gentleness,
he begins to feel the affect of the previous rounds.
His stomach becomes too weak for the competition,
allowing the challenger to go flip for flip with him.
She moves on to the battle of endurance
and steps up to bat, met by the Black vet.
They go neck and neck,
moving in perfect synchronization.
They spin together;
they swing together;
they hit together.
However... in the event of a tie,
the win goes to the challenger

The vets' fear has been confirmed.

The White vet takes himself out,
knowing that at his present state
he'll be of little use.
It is now 2 to 1.
The Yellow vet agrees to manage the White vet's post.

The battle is not as close this time.

The challenger gets an early lead in the accuracy battle.

The Yellow vet isn't far behind,

but the challenger as gentle as possible,

treating it like a lady.

She returns to the bat.

Once the Yellow vet finally finishes his gentle task,

the Black vet joins the challenger at the plate,

but it is too late.

She has finished, swung and connected.

The remaining vets are torn.

They are both capable of competing head on

with the strong competitor,

but they both have weakness.

The Black vet's accuracy is shot.

The Yellow vet's endurance is weak.

Ultimately, it comes down to the White vet's coin toss.

Heads: the Black vet.

At long last,
it's come down to a 1 on 1 relay.
The vet congratulates the young woman
on making it this far,
still unsure if he will beat her.
They take their positions at the starting line
and ready their hands.
The signal to start is given,
and they fire at their target.
They both have trouble hitting it for a while,
but the young woman manages to score first.
The Black vet hits his goal soon after
and trails closely behind her as
they move to the gentle round.
Being a pro at this event,
the Black vet blazes through the first two obstacles
but struggles on the third.
The challenger, however, doesn't hit a bump
and moves on to the final stage.
Again, the Black vet is only seconds behind.
He steps up to bat and begins,
but she is nearly finished.
Admitting defeat,
the Black vet drops his bat
as she ends the competition strong.

The crowd erupted in excitement.
A tradition of showing up the younger class had been broken
singlehandedly by no man, as it would have thought to be,
but instead by a woman.
And quite the woman indeed.

She should be proud of herself.
The White vet and Yellow vet
even went up against her solo after her victory,
and still they had to bow down to her in defeat.
She is truly a champ among us.
Word.

Sex Dreams

Originally, this was gonna be called Dreams About Assholes,
to go along with Monday's post,
but I figured that would be too vulgar.

Come on, son.

I know damn sure I ain't the only deviant having sex dreams.

We all went through puberty.

We all in high school, college, or just entered the working force.

Our hormones are still raging,

some more than others.

We've all waken up sweaty,

hopefully not sticky,

wondering "What the fuck?" or "...nice"

Now I didn't do any research or anything

[What do I look like: a good student?]

but I'm pretty sure gals have them just as often as guys do.

In my personal experience...

I think I usually have one a week.

I don't always remember them,

but I can feel when I probably did

because I don't wake up with sex on my mind.

I have to say that's definitely an advantage.

The days after I have a sex dream

I'm usually more focused.

Let me make a distinction:

sex dreams do not always equal wet dreams.

Nocturnal emissions don't even have to come from a sex dream.

...not that I would know.

Sex dreams are just... erotic.

Like... honestly,

mines don't even always get to "that part."

Sometimes it's just nice, intimate moments

they I can tell will lead to it.

Again, this is when "Dreams Are Assholes" come to play.

When this happens... you know... that one point... toward the end,

that's when I'm least focused

and become obsessed almost.

Not saying I'll accomplish my goal,

because I probably won't.

It'll noticeable.

A lot of the times, I won't remember the partner.

I'm pretty sure it's always someone I know or will know soon.

Most of the time, it's people who I don't think about in that way.

Some times, I dream about a person because they're off limits.

But there are those rear moments when I'll actually

dream, not fantasize, about whoever I'm fiending after.

Now, for these people we might not like like that,

what does this mean?

Obviously we don't want them sexually,

...or so we think.

Maybe they want us?

Maybe the tension is so much between you two

having a dream like this seem like a way to relieve it.

Maybe it's a dream about dominance or a power shift,

like if somehow your boss is involved... (sorry for that image).

In my personal opinion,

sex dreams are usually the most eventful of my dreams.

They often always mean something, even if it's something small.

So when you wake up from one,

don't be ashamed of it.

Just wonder why you had it.

The answer may shock you.

Word.

Always Something There to Remind Me

As some of you might remember,

around this time last year I did an imitation

since I was new to a certain group.

Well, this year someone did an impression of me.

Now, I totally didn't see it coming.

I haven't even been around the group much this year,

so I figured no one would have anything on me.

Plus, none of the newbies really knew me like that.

Oh, how I was mistaken.

The kid that did me told me he was doing someone else.

By happenstance, I cast this kid in my 10 minute play for my class.

[a monologue on that is in the future]

We rehearse in my room.

Sneaky him, he got a friend of ours to distract me

while he "borrowed" some of my clothes.

I didn't find out until I was on my way to the house

where the festivities would be going down.

I was excited... at first.

Then I got worried.

I began thinking what could he possibly have on me.

Three people were impersonated before me.

They were all throughly roasted.

I was shook. haha

I can honestly say, he did a good job.

First of all, dude came out with his face in brown makeup.

He got props for that.

He had one my blue sweater and my flip-up shades to.

He opened up by reading my blog on Hiphop & Homosexuality.

That was very necessary.

Then he ripped into my past, like people I've hit on and shit like that.

As his big finale,

dude went on my facebook,

pulled up a video of me dancing with an inebriated white girl,

and did a complete reenact me along to it

even pulling up someone for the audience.

I loved it.

I couldn't stop laughing at my past exploits.

How dumb I had been.

I was so embarrassed,

but I was in the same boat as many others.

All in all,

the message is this:

watch what you do.

People will find out.

And it will come back to haunt you.

We upperclassmen learned that last night.

For real.

But it was all in good fun. haha

Word.

Dreams Are Assholes

As much as I love to dream,

they piss me the [beep] off sometimes.

The main reason is because they're cliffhangers.

So you have a dream about searching in a cave.

You're tryna find a treasure.

You reach out for it, and suddenly you're surrounded.

Soon as you get ready for battle...

So you're in a daycare.

You're an infant; which doesn't bother you.

It makes sense in the moment.

You start to build stuff from oversized legos.

Just as you finally realize what you really wanna build...

So you're talking to someone you like.

They're eyeing you down,

you're eyeing them down.

You reach in for a kiss.

Suddenly they're behind you, sans clothes.

You get ready for a fine moment when...

So you're in your bed.

You shut off your cellphone alarm clock.

You step out bed and fall down,

but you don't stop falling;

it's nonstop.

You're just screaming, waiting for impending doom.

You prepare for what's at the bottom when...

You're alarm clock actually awakes you up.

In my experience,

a dream always jumps to a new dream

when it starts to get good.

A dream ends and you wake up

just before you realize what the dream actually meant.

I always wake up feeling that

if I could have just stayed in it for 5 more minutes,

I woulda found the meaning to life...

or at the very least the meaning to my life...

ok, just a solution to a current problem.

You get the point.

You don't know how many times

I've tried to fall back asleep

to pick a dream back up.

But all I can ever do is daydream an ending.

And if I do fall back asleep,

a new dream will start

or the old dream immediately morphs into a new one.

So yes,

my relationship with dreams are very love/hate.

But Lord knows I wouldn't give them up for the world.

Word.

Online Shopping Addiction

Like many young Americans,

money likes to burn a hole in my pocket.

So I'm always ready to spend.

However, I don't have a car

and the Baltimore bus system is... not the best.

One would think this would help me save money.

Yeah, maybe if this wasn't the 21st century.

Online shopping, how I love to hate you,

always there for me on a friday afternoon

when I can't make it to the mall.

You may be asking,

"CG, what do you buy online?"

Well, for one, I buy music.

iTunes and Rhapsody are my homeboys

when I actually feel like supporting artists.

As many of you know,

I'm a music junkie.

If there wasn't a shopping cart feature,

I'd buy so many $9.99 albums. haha

But luckily, I can browse through which ones

I think I'll actually bump the most

or which one I feel like trying out,

and leave the rest in virtual purgatory.

I use the same method when clothes shopping.

For my classy stuff, I'm a Urban Outfitters junkie.

They can be a little pricy at times,

but they have some deals on cardigans and sweaters.

I also buy a lot t-shirts... mostly funny ones.

Most of these shirts you actually can't find in stores.

So they're kinda exclusive,

especially since some go out of print when the original batch sells out.

I will tell you that Bustedtees.com is my main source,

but I won't put you on to the other ones.

Actually, it's a simple as typing funny tees into Google.

I've also bought books online.

I even buy groceries online (no produce, though).

The longest I've waited for shipping is 3-4 days.

Usually I can get around shipping & handling

by buying a certain number of tees,

but not on UrbanOutfitters,

since they want you to buy at least $150.

Now...

I usually find I can waste an entire paycheck online.

This is what happened last summer and fall.

This winter and spring,

my paychecks have been back on the slim side

since I was busy doing other stuff.

But now I'm working more,

and the big paychecks are returning.

It's very hard to say no.

To be honest,

I just bought 3 new funny tees.

Loyola, I'm sure you'll see them next week.

Anyway,

I'm trying to save more anyway.

So... I'll let you know how that goes.

Probably via Facebook status.

Those are always handy.

Word.

Lil Black Indie Boy

This is how I would describe myself somedays.

Now, indie as a term
is pretty vague all in itself.
I'd like to describe it as being outside the norm,
being hip, cool, trendy with out conforming.
Urban Dictionary calls it "cooler than emo."
It also calls people in this category arrogant.
I am, by no means, arrogant.
I simply know I'm better than you.
[It's fun to make fun of myself.]

But no, seriously,
I think I fall under the indie culture
more than the hiphop culture somedays.
I find myself preferring Radiohead or Regina Spektor or Franz Ferdinand
over Wu Tang or Lil Wayne or even Jay-Z somedays.
I consider the movies I watch indie, cult classics,
such as Pulp Fiction, Donnie Darko, Running with Scissors, Fight Club, Death to Smoochie, crap like that.
Granted, some of these movies are kinda mainstream now,
but they still have that non-mainstream feel to them,
kind of how like Radiohead and Modest Mouse are still kinda indie.

There's also the way I've been dressing.
In high school, my clothes kind of baggy.
Like, most of my clothes from then are still big on me.
Now, I buy t-shirts more fitted.
I wear a bit of flannel and tight jeans.
...
Come to think of it...
hip hop culture is beginning to have its own lil indie section
in addition to its underground/mixtape culture.
The biggest example of this I can think of is Kid Cudi.
It suddenly makes sense why people constantly compare me to him.
We kind of carry the same demeanor.
We take like as it comes, no high expectations.
We do our own thing, like what we wanna like,
no matter how different it might be.
This would also be why I like Lupe and Kanye so much.

I don't know.
Indie is just a "term" I've been drawn to since college.
But why the fuck do I need a label?
I can just be me.
But if you're a stranger,
and you see me walking by,
and you don't know my name,
by all means
call me "that black indie kid."
Word

B(o)obi(e)s

"I may be gay, but I still appreciate a nice pair of boobs." -yours truly

In this post
I will proceed to talk about breast.
But it's okay... I'm gay.

I must admit...
I've always had a certain fascination with boobs.
Granted, the ass is my true weakness,
but it's just something about breast,
especially on a female.
Sure, men can have moobs or chesticles
but they just aren't the same.
They sag, or droop, or just aren't that big.
Plus, the belly usually overshadows them.

In women,
boobs are nice and round, perky.
And I mean that in all women.
Ladies, no matter what your cup size,
you have a wonderful chest,
meant for feeding the children you may
one day birth or adopt.

I will be honest:
ain't nothing like a pair of natural Cs or Ds.
I think I know how to tell the difference now, too.
Breast that seem too stiff? Yeah, #weoffthat.
Give me that au natural.
Give me that just right amount of sag,
that sway, that jingle-jangle.

If you take notice of me,
my eyes will be like other males
and go right to a woman's chest,
especially if she wearing a shirt
that shows off cleavage. Oh!
I gotta remind myself
to look at the cutest guy in the room,
if there is one.

Now, you might say,
"But Charles, if you like breast so much
than wouldn't you consider yourself bi at the least?"
I mean, I could,
but there a few women far and in between
that I would actually want.
Besides, like I said before,
I prefer the term free spirit [accredited to April Nicotera].

So ladies,
if you catch me looking at your chest,
don't be offended.
Consider it a term of admiration.
And also, remember... I'm gay.
Word.

Let Me Do It!

I can be very Stuart from MadTV sometimes.

Let me explain.
I have this very particular pet peeve:
when I start something alone
I like to finish it alone.

Like... ok,
let's say I'm setting a table with chairs,
and then someone else comes over and helps me.
I don't like that.
I think it's cause they just end up slowing me down.
Also, it makes me feel like they saying I can't do it alone,
which I know isn't their intention,
simply what it feels like.

Often times,
I'll just grit my teeth and keep quiet,
playing a song in my head to calm myself down.
I'll walk far away and try to do the next task alone.
But then they just follow me and help again.

It's a very odd pet peeve,
one I forget I have sometimes.
Am I crazy?
Am I alone in this?
Let me know, my dear friends [and associates].
I'm eager to know.
Word.

Private Relationships

Don't act like you don't know what I'm talkin about.
You know damn well what I'm gettin at. haha
Sometimes, it's just best to keep a relationship under wraps.
But when and for how long?

Let's say you just hook up with someone,
one night stand kinda thing.
There's no real reason to tell anyone about it,
unless you feel like bragging.
You just satisfied an urge, tis all.
If this turns into regular hook ups,
like on some friends with benefits type ish,
then no one should know put ya'll.
You don't need anyone blowing up your spot.

Another situation is when you're starting a new relationship.
You're not exactly sure how it's going to work out,
so you both agree to not tell anyone yet.
You sneak around like lovers do,
avoiding spots where your friends might go.
You spend time together in the privacy of your home.

Now... this shouldn't last forever;
I say a month at the longest, maybe two.
Once it's get past that,
you gotta start wondering.
1)Is this motherfucka embarrassed of me?
If they are, then don't expect the relationship to go anywhere.
2)Am I the sideline ho?
If you think you might be "that other bitch/nigga" that their original mate accuses them of having, that when you gotta decide what to do.
Did they not tell you cause they're tryna break it off with the 1st mate?
Are you just there for the moment?
Do you really feel like being in this situation?
Just things to consider.

Lastly,
there's the downlow private relationship.
You know, dudes or gals hiding their sexuality
going around acting to be complete straight,
but they're down with the same sex.
Now... I'm not tryna down anyone and what they have.
I'm just spitting how I feel.
In my opinion,
these can be the most stressful relationships.
Sneaking around isn't even an option.
Then again, some are bold enough to go out in public
pretending to only be "just friends."

There's even two subdivisions to this:
2 closeted or 1 out - 1 closeted.
When you have 2 closeted motherfuckas,
obviously they both wanna keep it under wraps.
But with 1 already out,
there has to be added stress.
You have someone in your life you like,
but they don't wanna tell no one about you?
That seems like disrespect or OD self-interest,
but it's a lifestyle.
Hmm... I wonder if the closeted ones
still freak around with the opposite sex
just to keep up appearances.
It's a tricky tricky place to be.

Anyway,
that's my read on the whole ordeal.
I've yet to be in one,
well I've been in the first level,
but nothing past that.
Hopefully I never will,
but I don't know my future
just like you don't know yours.
Word.

The Life of a Blogger

Often I'm asked,
"How do you find time to blog almost everyday?"
or "How do you find things to talk about?"
Well yes, those are the two main keys to a successful blog:
constant updates and knowing what you're talking about.

A few people have told me how they admire my blog,
and say how they would like to start one
but they don't have the time.
In a sense, that's a good thing.
It shows that you're always on the move,
doing things, hopefully beneficial to you.

As I've said many times before,
I started the Wacko Monologues
because I wasn't doing anything.
I had been involved in other activities
but once they ended,
I needed a new outlet for my creativity.
Now that I actually busy again,
I feel like my blog is better.
When I have down time,
I'm not as inspired to write;
not as much going on, ya know?

Now, the life of a blogger isn't extraordinary.
We live like others do.
We just happen to see or hear certain things
that sets off a spark in our brain.

Often, ideas for a post will come from hanging with friends.
They'll bring up interesting points,
and I'll regurgitate what they said while adding my own insight.
Other times, I come up with posts from dreams or deep thought.
I'll think up hypothetical situations
and soon end up posting them.

Now, if a post is inspired by an actual event or person,
I will often leave out names altogether.
I'll simply say a guy or girl.
Now, in the context of the situation,
people who were there will know who it is, yeah.
But outside of that, your identity is safe.
My intention is not to put anyone on blast,
only to shed light on what happened.

Some times I get a little emotional.
If you look back, some of my post seem to address someone.
That's because they are.
Yes, the passive-aggressive post.
One of my greatest yet ineffective weapons.
Because 1) What are the chances that the person will read it?
and 2) If they do, will they know it was meant for them?
It's just a nice little long shot for the world to see.

I haven't had anyone hold their tongue because I was around,
and they shouldn't.
I know what's public and what's private.
As much as my own life that I put up for the world to see,
I stil manage to harbor some secrets.
It's all about that balance:
knowing what to say without becoming to involved.
Gosh, I sound like a journalist.

Anyway,
that's what blogging is,
at least for the kid named Wacko.
Word.

Random thought:
I'm looking for a nice line to always end on.
Not that "Word" isn't good enough.
I just want something in addition
like Kid Cudi's "Dream on."
or Lupe's "Peace and much love to ya."
So if you have any ideas, let me know.
Thank ya kindly, in advance.

Male (Period)

It is my belief that men undergo periods.
Now, I'm not saying we menstruate
or bleed uncontrollably or anything.
But we definitely have a time of the month
when our emotions and urges are a little higher.

Not, I'm not saying there's anything proof behind it,
although some scientist have been conducting some research.
They say that mean do go through certain cycles.
For instance, it seems that facial hair grows
most on Sundays and least on Wednesday,
supposedly because sex happens more on weekends.

Anyway,
I like to think each man's period is unique.
I think I get mines every 3 weeks instead of 4.
During which, I become extremely hyper.
Also... I have to watch myself
because I become horny beyond comprehension.
It's reckless. I just have to keep telling myself no.

So obviously,
it's not as stressful and moody
as the female period.
But I still think it exists.

What do you say, men?
Does your Uncle Flow pay you monthly visits?
If so, how so?
Share your story.
Word.

Hip Hop & Homosexuality

Kanye West once said in an interview
that he feels like gay is the opposite of rap.
Think about it,
people might say "That shit was so hip hop" if they like it,
but they'll say "That shit was gay as hell" if it's wack.
[Where did using gay as a bad thing come from anyway?
I thought it meant happy.]

I've said it before
and I'll say it time and time again:
the black community is the most homophobic / against homosexuality community in the United States.
Now, I'm not really sure why this is.
You would think a group of people
that faced such adversity and struggle
would be more understanding of others.

Any way,
behind black grandparents,
rap artists are the most prominent members of anti-homosexuality.
I mean, "no homo" was birthed out of rap music.
Most rappers don't even dance any more.
"I said my niggas don't dance, we just pull up our pants and do the rock away. No lean back." -Fat Joe
Not to say dancing is gay,
but it could be seen as unmanly.
I mean, if you saw 50 Cent dancing like Chris Brown,
his street cred wouldn't be present at all.

Pretty much every genre of music
has had a gay artist except rap/hip-hop.
Even if they weren't open during the height of popularity
they eventually came out. [see Ricky Martin]

But of course,
we all have our speculation
as to which rappers may secretly be gay.
As much as black folk might be against homosexuality,
they'll go on the witchhunt for one with no hesitation.
When Cam'ron first started rockin pink mink coats,
dudes looked at him sideways.
Let's call this the reason for him startin "no homo."
When Weezy kissed his (adoptive) daddy Birdman on the mouth,
people were passin that picture around like a Kardashian porno.
But it's Dwayne, rap's savior,
so people were ready to put that aside
to keep hip hop alive.
Some people even questioned Kanye's sexuality,
simply because of how he dressed.

Many (if not all) female rappers have been called lesbians at some point.
Missy and Eve come to mind first.
Granted, they may seem like the type to be lesbians,
but it's yet to be proven.
And even if they were,
it wouldn't be as severe as if they were a guy.

Now, no one has been outted yet.
But when someone is,
you can bet it'll be a three ring circus.
He'll be called the Gangstalicious of our generation.
[Boondocks reference. Blog on that soon?]
He'll try to battle against it,
but the claims will just keep coming.
Dudes'll pop up like ugly chicks did for Tiger.
Eventually, I foresee him forced to quit rapping.
Either that, or go into the underground gay rap scene.
Yes, there is a gay rap scene.
I don't know much about it, though.
I mean if white kids and girls wanna rap,
why can't gay dudes? haha

I hope that one day
a rapper will just come out on his own.
Deal with it in a proper and tasteful manner
and still have a career.
It would open so many doors,
break down so many boundaries.
And if he's actually ill on the mic,
which would be preferred,
he might just get niggas to respect him enough
to have niggas in the hood not hate on gays like they do.
And as a chain effect,
perhaps more gay black men will come out of the closet.
Who knows?
I guess we'll just have to wait until that day.
Word.

Workout

Some of you may remember
a post entitled Ab vs Flab
from back in September.
If I may, I'd like to revisit this.

As I said then,
I was leaning towards the flab side.
As you may have imagined,
I haven't worked out since.
As a result,
I have gotten a little fatter.
This has messed with my confidence a little.
Now, make no mistake;
I still like my gut.
But there are some days where I'll look down
and just shake my head at the belly
I'm trying so hard to suck in and hide.
I have been wearing my clothes more formfitting,
so it's really noticeable some days.

Today,
I woke up in my father's house.
[I am on break for Easter, after all.]
As soon as I pulled back the covers,
I went into autopilot.
I threw on my pajama pants and a hoodie,
went into the basement
and started to work out.
Oh... yeah,
my father has gym equipment in the basement
that he never uses.

All the radiators and water mains
are in the middle of the basement,
so it made for a nice track.
Did about 50 laps
since I was unsure of how it'd measure out in miles.
Maybe 1.5. I doubt it though.
I decided to work mainly on my arms today.
I did a lil work on my chest as well.
And of course,
I had to do sit-ups.

It's been so long since I've worked out,
But somehow I wasn't that spent afterward.
I mean, I even remembered to warm up and cool down.
I felt proud of myself and my hour long work out.

So... here's the plan:
wake up and do 50 sit-ups or 100 jumping jacks or 50 push-ups.
Then find 2-3 days to do some weight training.
It's basically the plan I make
every time I decide to work out again,
and it never last more than a week,
but we'll see how it goes though.

The problem is that I usually wake up
30 minutes before I have class.
I could do it at night,
since I stay up til 4am anyway.
But I never feel like it.
I'll try to force myself though.

The goal: beach ready by June 14
aka my 21st birthday.
Loyola crew, I'm looking at ya'll to keep me on this.
Anyway, what do you plan on doing
to get in shape for the summer?
Are you comfortable with your body as it is now?
As always, hit the comments.
Be well, my dear friends [and associates].
Word.

[And no... this is not an April Fools post. haha]