WHY THE BRICKS GOTTA BE YELLOW?

Little known fact, Lincoln's left hand was behind his back
with fingers crossed as he promised not to free the slaves. 

Well Obama went and got his ass inaugurated yesterday, but as you can see, I don't have the pictures to prove it. Totally his fault though, seeing as every time he opens his mouth it's always "Lincoln this…" and "Lincoln that…" and "If Lincoln were here he'd be all into me." Compares himself to the Great Emancipator so damn much that you Google 'Obama' and Lincoln is what you get. But that's enough about that guy, (I mean Obama, not Lincoln), tired of talking about him. What's he ever done that's so special… aside from that whole first black President, nominated for a second term, yadda yadda yadda, hope and change and shut the hell up! Not here to talk about all that today. Today it's my girl Terri's turn in the barrel. Why Terri? Because she gave me poop about that last post having so much about Star Trek in it. Not that this is exactly a new thing, see she's always giving me poop about one thing or another. Star Trek, Aquaman, my addiction to prescription cupcakes, the adult diaper I keep in my backpack for emergency purposes… (sometimes I laugh too hard). But whatever, I ain't mad at her.

Okay, maybe I'm a little bit mad at her. 

But seeing as Terri's not without her own geek sins then she really has no right to be casting stones. Still she does, with real stones and let me tell you, that woman throws hard. One of Terri's biggest geek weaknesses — or Geeknesses™ as I like to call them — is her freakish obsession with the Wizard of Oz. As much as I'm into Star Trek, double that shit and then add seven… then multiply by four, carry the two, modify the remainder, divide the integer (then tell me what f@%k-all any of that means because I'm retarded at math) and that'll give you the amount of fanatic drool that pours out of her when you mention anything to do with Dorothy, witches, ruby red slippers, yellow bricks or Munchkins. Seriously, it's gross.

Don't exactly know what she does with these things but there's candles
and wine involved so it's just best to leave the room and not look back. 

With all that going on, one can only imagine what's happening in 

her head these days with the upcoming theatrical release of Disney's Oz The Great and Powerful just a little over a month away. See, Terri's obsession isn't restricted solely to the classic Wizard of Oz but also branches out to engulf other versions and takes on the mythology. Especially the hit Broadway musical, Wicked. Good Lord, she f@%king loves Wicked, always trying to get me to read the novel that the musical was based on. Always giving me grief about the fact that I f@%king hated the musical and therefore won't bother reading the novel. 

This was as close as they ever got to any hot witch-on-witch action,
so of course I thought the show sucked. 

Funniest thing that only recently occurred to me though — what with the whole black President, MLK Day, upcoming Black History Month stuff going on — is that there's one version of the Wizard's world that Terri's never mentioned, The Wiz. Remember The Wiz? Well unless you're middle-aged and/or black then you probably don't. I happen to be both so yeah, I remember The Wiz. An all-black version of the Wizard of Oz that originally debuted on Broadway in the 70s and made a brief star out of Stephanie Mills, was later made into a film starring Diana Ross and Michael Jackson. There's been some smaller revivals of the show from time to time… and they've done about as well as one would expect of a black production these days without Tyler Perry's name attached to it. And yeah, second post in a row making mention of Tyler Perry. (Have to, he's friends with President Obama so it's pretty much a law now.) 

There was some public outcry about Toto being a Scottish Terrier instead
of a Black Lab. But it ended quickly when they kicked me out of the theater. 

Now the fact that Terri's not black (or so she says) but is old enough to remember The Wiz yet never mentions it the way she does Wicked — or even the 1985 stinker Return to Oz — should by no means be taken the wrong way. Hell, I hadn't thought of that show and/or movie in years… decades even so I ain't gonna be hatin' on my girl for it. Stealing my identity, implicating me in a murder, using me as a drug mule, turning my twin brother into an assassin with orders to kill me… these are but a few of the reasons I have to hate Terri. But aside from all that, she's good people with a really big heart, (she's on medication for that) always makes me feel welcome in her home so long as I enter and leave through the back door every time and I always stay in the kitchen while I'm there. Hold on though, that has nothing to do with racist tendencies and more to do with my tendency to have a lot of accidents on furniture and rugs. Hence the adult diaper thing I mentioned before. 

THAT GATE WON'T KEEP ME OUT FOREVER, WOMAN! 

So it's not as bad as I'm making it sound, let's not string Terri up just yet. Save that anger for when you find out about how she waterboards squirrels for raiding her bird feeder. (Which I guess would be now since I just told you.) But as far as the whole Wiz thing is concerned, race isn't even an issue. Hardly anybody ever mentions it because the movie sucked and is best left as a forgotten chapter of black entertainment history… just like Homeboys In Outer Space. (No, don't even think I'm posting a graphic of that shit.) I'm just playing around to get Terri riled up. I like to poke the bear by doing shit like this… and by calling her a bear. Besides, she happens to be a big fan of a version of that wonderful world that's very racially diverse.

Say it with me now kids: Violence and drugs and man-rape… Oh my! 

True, the HBO series had absolutely nothing to do with the wizard's world, but Terri doesn't believe that. Far as she's concerned, once they slapped on the title it all became a part of the grand mythology and nothing's gonna change her mind about that. I know, I tried to tell her once and she beat me senseless with a thigh-high full of cookie dough. Then she baked the cookies and made me watch from the gate as she and my twin brother ate them in the living room with cocoa during a Meet the Browns marathon on TBS. 

Actually, racism's starting to look pretty good at this point. 

We have a very complex relationship. 

Please help me?

DESPITE APPEARANCES TO THE CONTRARY…

I am not dead yet. Although I can totally understand why you might think that since I haven't been around in a while. (I believe the word you're looking for is… DUH!)

But as I was trying to say before I imagined you interrupting me, here's the thing, Star Trek: Insurrection, you ever see it? No? What's that? You're not into Star Trek because you never got beaten up in high school and don't suffer from PTSD (Post Traumatic Swirlie Disorder)? Okay, I get that and I envy you for it. 

Of course, no gigantic, menacing face appears anywhere in the film.
Another example of how Hollywood lies!  

Star Trek: Insurrection, the ninth overall film of the series, the third to feature the Next Generation cast, saw the Enterprise-E (badass ship) travel to an exotic region of space to encounter a race of people called the Baku. The Baku hung their hats on a planet at the heart of a nebula dubbed the Briar Patch. That name of course is a reference to the home of Br're Rabbit, a fictional character made famous in the embarrassingly racist Disney film Song of the South. Don't even bother looking for it on DVD or Netflix, Disney has long since buried that f@%ker. I actually saw it in the theater back in 1980. Don't know what I was thinking going in but I remember telling the ticket lady to suck my black balls as I walked out. Sweet little old white woman didn't really deserve that and in retrospect I feel bad, but she's most likely been dead for like twenty-five years so… whatever. And more importantly, now that I think about it, what the hell was Star Trek doing referencing that racist bullshit anyway? Three hundred years in the future, all kinds of space shit has happened, humanity is supposedly all advanced beyond belief and whatnot, but those assholes can't come up with a better name for the region other than an allusion to that relic from Walt Disney's dark heart? 

Could only have been worse if it said 'Tyler Perry presents…' above the title. (Shudder!) 

Still, I realize that the stories of Br're Rabbit were around well before Walt Disney went and put his bigoted stink on them so maybe Starfleet's archaic reference might not be a bad thing. And yes, I'm rambling off topic again. But come on, admit it, you love it when I do that. You've missed me doing that. You think it's pretty sexy, don't you? No? I'm wrong on all counts? You think I'm kind of an ass? Okay, got it, thank you for your brutal honesty. Moving on… (sniff) in a moment. Hang on…

Getting back to Star Trek, (as if I ever leave it) the gases in the Briar Patch made it impossible for any ships inside to communicate with the universe beyond. Adding insult to bullshit was the fact that the nebula also hindered warp travel so that if the Enterprise wanted to communicate with Starfleet they had to travel for two days at impulse speed (slow as space shit) to get out and get a signal. This made it really difficult for Picard to brag to his captain buddies back on Earth that he totally fingerbanged some three hundred year old Baku chick. 

But that ass was looking pretty good after
 three centuries of wear and tear, so it's cool.

Why am I telling you all this? What does all of this mean? What does any of this have to do with anything else? Who would win in a fight, Captain Picard or Br're Rabbit? Well the answer to that last one is simple, a guy with a phaser versus a racially inappropriate cartoon rabbit? No brainer. 

"Some of my best friends are black!
Not really, but still… F@%k you, rabbit!" 

As for all that other stuff, the reason is this: due to circumstances that I won't bother to explain, (because I've already taken up too much of your time) I currently find myself in an area where clear signal is a very hard commodity to come by. Like the aforementioned badass Starfleet vessel, one has to travel several miles away from home and hearth just to update one's Facebook status. 

But as a very good friend of mine (shout-out to my girl Jenette) recently reminded me, I have a responsibility to all of you. I started something here over a year ago and I shouldn't let a little adversity get in the way of delivering the goods. Okay, she didn't really say any of that shit. All she said was "Why aren't you blogging anymore?" But I usually listen with my ego so I heard it the other way. So here I am in the parking lot of a downtown daycare center, sprawled out in the back of my SUV with a laptop and a hotspot, making a bunch of preschool teachers really nervous. But screw them, this place has awesome signal and they should be thankful I left the ice cream truck in the garage this time around. (Please don't ask me why I even have the truck.) The shit I go through just so that I can post and let you all know that I'm not dead.

Suppose I could have just said that at the very beginning. In fact, I did say that… and then I went on to say all that other stuff. Point is, I'm still very much alive and though posting ain't as easy as it used to be I still intend to do it as often as I can, all the while convincing myself that you care. No matter how long I have to sit here in front of the Little Angels Preschool, no matter how uncomfortable it makes the teachers, no matter how many times they call the police to come check out the creepy guy downloading questionable material in the parking lot… which by the sound the authoritative tap-tap-tap on my window means at least one time already.

Looks like I gotta go now, but I'll be back sooner rather than later because I'm pretty sure the county lock-up is in a 4G zone. So this could actually turn out to be good for me… provided my cellmate is nice enough to let me post after lights out. 

"I don't give a shit what your name is. I'm just gonna call you Bottom."

On second thought, I might be busy after lights out… what with all the crying and the hurting and the stress of wondering if he'll respect me in the morning.