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no longer languishing in the timeless self-absorption of the young, time pushes us through our brief lives. we look back, breathless, only to see that the world of our youth has disappeared, replaced by impossibly young strangers, reflections of us from a past time.

Why SuperBad was a horrible movie....

Ok, I'm sure you all saw the ads, you couldn't miss them, particularly in the week before Superbad dropped. You know, the ones where they talked about how this movie was going to define a generation, how it was going to be Clueless, the Breakfast Club and Rebel Without a Cause all rolled into one. Big bold type with references to Rolling Stone and Siskel and Roper about how great this movie was. Well, I'm here to tell you that though, this movie has its moments, this was not a very good movie, written by some pretty funny guys. But compared to Knocked Up and 40-Year Old Virgin, this was just a lackluster attempt, which needed a lot of work.

Now, as I've tried to explain, a movie is about a plot arc and characterization. SuperBad is lacking in both of these, and doesn't even make any attempt at them. Basically, the plot of this movie is about two geeky guys trying to get some sweet twattoms by bringing the liquor to this girl's party. It would have been a simple plot arc for them to have gotten the liquor in the beginning with the obvious forgery of McLovin's fake ID, but then through a bunch of wacky happenings, they get separated only to meet back up and realize that hey, the fake ID worked, and we didn't have to do all that crazy shit. That's how you make a coherent, cohesive plot line. But the two main characters don't get any, they don't get the specific liquors the girls asked for, and they pretty much piss the girls off that night, but the next day its all good with the chicks. Talk about a bunch of stuff happening that doesn't have anything to do with the motivations of characters. The only person who does get any is the sidekick nigga, Fogler who steals the movie. Half the movie was about McLovin/Fogler and the cops which had very little, if not nothing to do with the main characters. All the McLovin scenes didn't further the characterization of the two main characters, as most of it happens away from them, and without their knowledge and the fat kid gets some liqour on his own, thus making it irrelevant whether or not McLovin held on to the liquor he bought at the beginning of the whole misadventure. Fogler grows through his experience with the cops as he realizes, hey, I'm a kick ass dude, and that is what allows him to hook up with the chick in the end. Only to then find out that the cops knew he wasn't old enough, but they wanted to grow as people as well by rekindling their youth. See this is a plot, it has a protagonist, it has antagonists, and through a bunch of wacky happenings, the characters grow as people and become friends in the end. Nothing about what the two main characters go through helps them get puss, get the liquor their chicks asked for or made them look any bit more attractive to the chicks they were trying to get. In the end they are still two geeks who except for the mercy of the Lord have two hot, cool chicks willing to give them the time of day, but without the wherewithal to do anything about it.

As for the two main characters, what is their motivation, they are both trying to get pussy, but neither gets any, they are both trying to get the specific liquors their chicks asked for, but neither does. They run around, trying to get some trim by getting the chicks liquor, but the one chick's drink gets busted, luckily she was already drunk, so I guess no one cares about what she wanted to drink, but that's the skinny dude's whole motivation throughout the movie. That's the problem with the movie, its just a bunch of stuff that happens. The awkward skinny kid has been pining for this chick for years, never makes a move, finally gets a chance to fuck, realizes he doesn't want to fuck her cuz she's too drunk (which kind of cuts against what the whole movie is about), and then gets dissed by her as a pussy, only for everything to be cool the next day in the mall. With the fat guy, he takes the accidental pairing with a tight chick in class for a chance to fuck her, just because she asked him to bring liquor to her party. Then after he makes a complete ass of himself, she still wants to give him a chance, even though she has given no reason to want to be with him. What, just cuz he's funny, she wants to be his girlfriend? I mean at least throw in the azzwhole jock boyfriend who is pissing her off when he picks on the protagonists for being dorks like in Just One of the Guys. But after he gets drunk, thinks she's slutty enough to fuck him if he can get her drunk enough, blackens her eye, and shows up at the mall the next day, wow, its all good, sounds like the script of a cheesy romantic comedy to me.

And in the end, what do they learn from all of this no pussy getting? Oh, that they love each other but they have to let each other go. That's more pussy than they are trying to get. The funny thing is they don't even go through the whole movie together, they get separated early and often, but for some reason the moral of the story is that you need to let go and live their separate lives. Maybe I missed a huge section of this movie, but it just didn't live up to the usual good work I expect from the creators. Now don't get me wrong, the movie did have its moments, that period blood joint was too much. But, the movie was all over the place and didn't really have any direction. The ending was pretty abrupt, I had to think for a second if it truly was the end, cuz it didn't seem to deal with anything the guys had been struggling for all movie, dates, but no pussy. Maybe I'm a too much of a stickler, but come on, if you're going to sink millions of dollars into a movie and bill it as a generation definer, can we at least get a plot that makes sense. Can we at least try to make it something that will last longer than a generation, please....

So that's why I think SuperBad was a horrible movie....

Why I hate Chris Rock...

Now I understand I am in the minority. I really try not to be contrary, I really do. I mean everyone enjoys when they meet someone else who agrees with them, and I am no different. But I can't deny the animus which I feel; all I can do is explain why I feel the way I feel. And I can't deny that I hate Chris Rock's stand-up comedy persona.

I mean don't get me wrong, I laugh from time to time when watching his stand up, and I really do think he is in the upper echelon of black stand up comedians. It takes a lot of talent to not completely bomb on stage, particularly when you're a big name, and people expect you to kill. To have them leave out satisfied, I have to give Chris all the respect for his stand up skills.

There is just something about the perspective of the jokes he tells that makes me uneasy! His jokes condemn the butt of the joke, but his voice and exaggerations are full of a belligerent ignorance which irks me to the utmost. His perspective is full of sexist, classist, anti-intellectual, materialist, homophobic demagoguery. This is the point of view of bourgie black folk. Those who think because they have made a little money and not fallen prey to all the stereotypes of struggling black folks, that they have some greater connection to common sense or right vs. wrong. These people either feel because they can navigate in the White world, they are in some position to tell those who won't or can't, what they are doing wrong.

No Chris Rock, you are still Pookie to me, you are a nigga, not what you would call a black person. Your opinions are not profound, they are not enlightening, they are not even right most of the time. I believe this is why Chris Rock has never had a successful movie which he has written, and if they were successful, they damn sure weren't funny.

Lets run down the list, CB4 (should have been called CB.S., if you can't successfully make fun of the absurdity of gangsta rap, then you might not be funny at all), Down To Earth (yeah I forgot about this train wreck myself), Head of State (if you can make Bernie Mac unfunny, you're like a black hole of humor), Pootie Tang (which would have been funnier if it was a movie about an orange Tang like substance that is excreted from the azz), Osmosis Jones (oh yeah, another forgettable movie which had done its job, until I resurrected it), and maybe his best film to date, though it had absolutely no plot at all, I Know I Love My Wife. Its best asset was that it was a bourgie nigga making fun of his bourgie life and bourgie wife!

Chris Rock's greatest success, his Everyone Hates Chris show is a prime example of how only when Chris makes fun of himself or people like him, of which the nuclear family sitcom, which is the bourgie black's fantasy of what's wrong with our community, displays all the ignorance and unenlightenment of Rock's comedy. I tried to watch it, but was disgusted within a few minutes.

You know what my greatest test of something's bourgie aptitude, if my Mom likes it, it has to be for the most materialistic, self-righteously moralistic, anti-intellectual drivel, and my Mom loves Chris Rock!

Write it down, take a picture...I don't give a fuck!!!!

Now as proof that I'm not a homophobe, or that I really wasn't trying to put Kanyeezy down when I called him a homo. I was talking to a fat man and we were discussing Jay-Z and my prediction that he's gonna get fired as President of Def Jam since the poor performance of record sales have hit his signees hardest in their releases. But I remembered that Kanye was about to drop this Fall, but this fat man was skeptical that Mr. West would do as well as expected. And to this, I doubled down, with another prediction, that Kanye will sell 750,000 units his first week! Weed Jesus Certified!

Birthdays...

Well...here I am...I am unafraid...I am undaunted and unintimadated.

Today is my birthday, and I'm about 3 hours into it, and I really can't wait until its done. Now I have to admit it, I really do just get embarrassed when people make a big deal about birthdays. I just think "WTF, you're not a kid who needs your parents' affection commemorated by the anniversary of your natal day." Don't get me wrong, I still want presents if their being given out, since I'd take a present any given day of the year, why would I not want one on my birthday.

Truth be told, birthdays now to me are more about reflection and perspective than celebration. They mark a milestone on a long journey, and like all markers along the way, you think about the way you've come, and the way you have to go more than you celebrate getting that far. And how one feels about either their past or their future, greatly colors one's tolerance for the pomp and circumstance others may feel one's birthday entails.

Birthdays are a touchy psychological quandary. I remember my 25th birthday, which ushered in a year of taking stock in my life. That year, talk of my age or my birthday, were irksome. But this year, my portfolio is open. My stock has been taken, and I must say, I am happy with where I am on this the year before my 30th. All is not right, a lot can get better, but a lot is great, and the possibilities are limitless. So I thank He who guides my course for His companionship and His direction.

So today, birthdays are cool, presents are cooler, well wishes are welcome and friends and loved ones may rejoice in the blessing I hope I have been and will continue to be. On this Seven-Eleven Day, as I like to call it, Weed Jesus, looks down on all he has created, and he says it is good...

HAVE A GAY SEVEN-ELEVEN DAY AND THANK GOD TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY!!!

Ok, I just gotta admit it Part 2

You know, I just got the new Kanye mixtape, "You Can't Tell Me Nuttin'," and I just saw his two new videos and I gotta admit they are all badazz! I give the guy credit for branching out and trying to express himself as he sees fit, plus the music is sick. Way to make the rest of them bastards step up their game!

But that nigga, Kanye is a homosexual, plain and simple! Now, I don't consider myself at all homophobic, I work in coalition with homosexual advocacy groups and I call my friends out on the gay stuff they say, but I still maintain that I'm not gay, and I am really not interested in experimenting with anything close to homosexual. I just think the shit Kanye is doing is not manly, and to me, gay is the opposite of masculinity.

Now Kanye, homosexuality ain't the opposite of hip hop it is the opposite of manly in my view. As a man, given our unique biological equipment, we are made to do the fucking, the opposite of fucking is getting fucked (now of course there is getting sucked and doing the sucking which are inverted in their masculinity vis a vis fucking). Whether you are a top or a bottom, homosexual sex requires one man to do something which is the opposite of masculine, thus the act robs one man of this manhood, and that is the opposite of fraternity, thus negating both men's manhood. Any man who so cavalierly lets you know at every given moment that they are into fashion, isn't manly in my eyes. I mean, its one thing to take pride in your appearance, its another to want to express yourself creatively through your clothes, but its a whole other thing, to crave the latest hot thing from the runways of Paris and New York. That, just isn't very manly, I don't care if you believe it helps you get all the stank p'tank in the world, its like lying to get puss, its just not the right way to go about getting puss!

And as for gay men who do not covet fashion, do not speak with a lisp, who enjoy sports, bawdy camaraderie, testosterone-fueled competition. Truthfully there really is nothing that is all that masculine which isn't about enticing women for sex with strength and force, even if it is tempered by precision. But if you're one of the masculine gay men, all that can truly be said about you is that "you're not that gay for a man who gets fucked in the azz!" Which is commendable in of itself, but the getting fucked in the azz thing makes you less manly than even the pussyest straight man in the world. Cuz if you tell me, you've fucked every woman in the world, but you had sex with a man at any point of your life, trust me, I'll leave the conversation secure in my manhood, and questioning yours!

And Kanye, I know I can't tell you nuttin', but I standing here, telling the world, YOU'RE A HOMO, live with it!

P.S. Maybe we can both make it to the AVNs together.....(call me!?!)

Ok, I gotta admit it...

I used to say I didn't like Lupe Fiasco, not cuz I didn't think he could rhyme, not cuz I didn't think he had something interesting to say. NO, I honestly didn't like Lupe cuz I thought he looked like someone I could beat up. I mean, I'm sorry, forgive me if I think a rapper should be cool, I mean, not necessarily hard, though, you shouldn't be a bitch! But that nigga looks like a nerd, and a little wimpy nerd, at that! But first I find out he's some kind of 4th degree blackbelt! Though I gotta admit, I still think I could take that nigga if I can get in close. But now I find out that nigga is moving weight. That nigga is the only rapper who sells drugs but doesn't rap about it. I gotta respect that! So I say for the whole world to know, I, Weed Jesus of Azzereth, don't think I can beat up Lupe Fiasco anymore! There I said it!

This just hit me...

I wonder how it feels to be a simile in a rapper's verse, what if its a diss, what if he's like I'm so and so like Weed Jesus, what if its a wack rapper, are you flattered, are you offended, would you step to that nigga if you saw him or would you laugh it off...

WWWJD's Dream of Absolute Gratification

He lays his significant other down, kissing and caressing the satin-smooth curves and slick crevices of her soft body. He slides his tongue down her neck to her chest, languishing in a round of neglijah (sp?) before planting wet kisses along her writhing body, slowly zeroing in on her velvety nest.

He places his hands under her round buttocks and gently lifts her writhing growler to his face. He languidly opens his mouth, extends his tongue and eagerly indulges in the soft mounds of sour cream that await him. His mouth is quickly smeared with with white, shot through with streaks of tart, green guacamole. He nibbles on the tufts of shredded lettuce sprouting from the heart of her spicy, meaty center. Cheese drips from his chin and into his beard, only to be caught by a flick of his greedy tongue.


Her body quivers as he then slides his tongue along the doughy, salsa-slick walls of her outer lips. He is lost in ecstasy, taking in mouthfuls of her womanhood, blind to all but the chile scented rivulets running over his tongue and down his thirsty throat. They both succumb to the wave of shared bliss as he eats his way down to the core of her climax, leaving nothing behind in his wake. She lets out a moan, pressing his face into the sticky remains of her love mound, now a hollowed-out, tender bowl.

He gently nestles her sleeping form against his lupine chest and smiles, slipping into a blissful sleep. For he knows that in the morning, a breakfast burrito awaits.
Bravestar

Who Am I, Kaiser Sosa...

Now, I gotta write this! So I'm sitting around last night with my significant other, there really ain't no other way to describe what we are to each other, call her Bravestar...and she just blurts out of nowhere a question who's leading nature was only matched by its randomness..."Do you know how much a hit of heroin is?" Now, I readily admit to my moniker as the Son of the Ganja God, a deity in my own right, he who can multiply a few blunts worth of izm into a multitude of cyphers, he who can resurrect a dying spliff, he who sack runeth over and most importantly, he who has burned his soul in the eternal flame of blizzle after blizzle until he was purified and sanctified enough to share the blessed sacrament with all his disciples and acolytes, yes I am Weed Jesus and I have come to spread the gospel of the green, but heron, heron....that is a little beyond me.

I cop to the plea, I was the one that started my friends on this herbal adventure. Yes, many of them smoked before they met me, and yes many of them would have smoked if they had never met me, but call it ego, call it vanity, call it self-aggrandizement, but I doubt if any of them would be smoking like they do now if they had not met me. And it doesn't just stop there, I am somewhat of the go-to-guy when it comes to advice or answers in my little circle of friends. I take useless trivia to another level, as you see above I have a vocabulary that's bigger than my third leg and I've had a lot of experiences in my short life. So to some extent, I live with it, and to a large extent, I impose myself in situations where I can use the things I've learned, and to a little extent, I like being a help to people and giving knowledge sometimes is the best thing one can receive.

Hell, I've had friends come to me and ask advice on how to take their girlfriend's virginity, now that's something I doubt most people have an expertise in, much less a reputation for having said expertise. (As an aside, the only thing I'll say about that is, once you start, you better finish, or you'll be fighting that same battle over and over again until you do get it in, so you might as well get there the first time!) I have friends who ask me who to vote for (whoever I have most influence over, which is mostly Democrats), or friends ask me if they should take jobs, or if they were worthwhile human beings. But HEROIN?

That's a new one for me, I mean, yes I plugged "price of heroin" in my brain's search engine and eventually thought of the Wire (best show ever on television) and remembered the prices the dealers were quoting the fiends, and came up with an answer. Of course with caveats about frequenting open-air drug markets and the questionable quality of the wares peddled there. Also how a reputable smack dealer would cost considerably more and wouldn't sell you just a hit, like the street dealers would.

And how I being simply the manifestation of the weed gods on earth, I didn't know any heroin dealers. Now in the interest of full disclosure, WWWJD (or for the uninitiated "What Would Weed Jesus Do") has been tempted by the not-so-natural mind enhancers before. Yes, beside the beautiful gift from God of the greenery, I have experimented with ecstasy. Now of course, I was prodded by one Miss Bravestar to acquire said MDMA, and had to go through my usual herbal connect, who as a trafficker had access to other traffickers and could acquire said E, I was able to get my hands on it. And I tried it, and it wasn't bad, but it doesn't match the match-made-in-heaven appeal of marijuana. Truthfully, it seemed like the perfect compliment to the herb, weed makes you eat and sleep, X makes you not want to eat or sleep, and both make you want to bump uglies, so you're all good!

But HEROIN!?! That's a whole other story. I mean, I hope I don't have to tell you this, but I'm black, and heroin just ain't a black thing. Don't get me wrong, I know millions of blacks struggle everyday with addictions to heroin, and the hood still probably moves a good bit of junk every hour. But niggas moved over to crack in the 80s, I mean that shit is just a whole lot easier, all you need is a pipe and some rocks. No needles, no spoons or pennies or tracks, just light that shit and smoke that shit! (hmmm, maybe I should light up again....) The only place I know where the H is still king is Baltimore, and I've already made one Wire reference today, that's more than that city is worth!

And yes, I know BG from Cash Money was hooked on heroin (sorry as a suburban child, most that I know about other places come from hip hop or tv and movies) and I loved Requiem for a Dream (Marlon Wayans was incredible in this, the best cautionary drug movie ever), but I'm sorry, heroin is for white kid rocker wannabes and models...the high seems a little too beautiful for the shit I gotta deal with everyday. Plus heroin is just plain bad for you. Its injecting yourself with just short of the level of morphine needed to kill you, but with the part that makes you really addicted to it. Plus once you start, every time you use it again, its a little less strong, until you don't even get high anymore, you just do it to keep away the withdrawal. An actually half-way decent movie about heroin addicts was Gridlock'd with Tupac (though I'm not much of Pac fan) and Trainspotting, the british joint was cool as well.

Which of course all betrays the point of this post, that it is audacious and spurious to believe that I, just because of my Weed Jesus nom-de-plume would know how much a hit of heron would be. Hell I guess anyone can ask anyone a question based on the off-hand chance that the person asked might know the answer, given all the stuff we don't know, in the lives of people we know the best, but for me, it is as if I am the great oracle, and all is lost if I do not know. OK, that was an exaggeration, but I do feel some pressure to answer people's questions when they ask me.

Now I know a lot of this is my own doing. I mean, if there was a kid in school who would have been called a know-it-all, that would be me. I was the dirty little kid who always was holding court, explaining at the playground the intricacies of sex and anatomy. I was always the one who you could copy off of, if you wanted a good grade and I was always the one to correct you, if you said something incorrect. (Yeah, as you could see I was a little smart-ass kid!) From the time I was young, I have had an insatiable obsession with knowledge, I have spent nights, days, months and years researching things which interest me. Every time I have a question about something I look it up, the internet has been a great savior for me, because encyclopedias suck testicle cheese! Truthfully, sometimes I think my only real talent in life is that I can recall most things that I have learned in my life. (Which is funny for a guy who smokes as much weed as I do, isn't it?)

Because of all of this, most of the shit I know, just sits away in my brain, waiting until a word or feeling or vision or sound or touch or taste or idea crosses my mind, and I jump from what that conjures up, to what the conjured conjures up and so on and so on. That is my mind. That is what has served me so well, and that is what drives me, and that is what torments me. My mind is going so fast, so often, I really wonder what takes up other people's thinking time. I think about politics, I think about sports, I think about music, I think about movies, tv, computers, sex, women, men, raising children, education, religion, marketing, design, history, economics, grammar, science, reason, love, friendship and everything in between all of those. I would consider myself an amateur expert on all of those subjects having spent years reading books about each, reading on the internet, talking, listening, debating people about these things, so I have something worthwhile to say about them.

Maybe that is what bothers me most about people assuming I know the answer to disparate, random questions, its the fact that when one asks me something I don't know the answer to, it strikes me at my core, because it undermines all the knowledge which I've spent my life accumulating. I've always wanted to be the guy with the answers, when I was young I wanted to be an old man, so people would ask me stuff and I would have a lifetime of learning, experiences and relationships which to draw on to give them sage wisdom. If you ask me something, no matter how trivial, no matter how random, no matter how difficult, if I don't know it, I'm not being the person I want to be. And even if there truly is no way I could have known the answer to your query, it still eats at me, most of the time leading me to seek the answer when I have the time.

So, I guess that is why I get offended sometimes when I get a question which I can't understand why the questioner believed I would have the answer, even as I seek to be the person with the answers to all questions. How beautifully contradictory! But like most things which for some unexplained reason bother you, you can find their genesis within you and have more to do with your self-perception than whatever catalyst invokes your ire. I guess knowing me like all people, is a balancing act of contradictory truths which must be satisfied organically as they shift in importance and influence as pressure of stress or daylight of scrutiny or darkness of depression is applied. And one can never be too vigilant in calibrating the scales for maximum harmony and understanding.

Or maybe my definition of random questions, is any one which I don't know the answer to, and I just say that as my defense, to cover-up the fact I don't know the answer to it....c'est la vie!

Welcome to THC Thoughts

Hello Everyone, and welcome to the first posting on THC Thoughts, a repository for all the interesting, entertaining and downright ignorant ideas that come to our minds late at night after we have partaken in the herbal refreshments. I will be the moderator, you can call me WWWJD or Weed Jesus. Of course, all the names have been changed to conceal the identities of the posters, but trust me, you'll get to know the full cast of characters who frequent the dank dungeons we call home or whereever we are brave enough to blaze! So without further ado, its 4:20, so smoke, eat, drink, fuck and be merry....