Where do you see yourself five years from now?

Five years ago I was going back to college after my first winter break there. I was a criminology major. Only 18 years young. I was unsure of the whole higher education thing. I was giving it a good try. I had all my classes on two days with three off. A set-up that would lead to my downfall.

I’ll be 28 in five years. I can’t imagine my personality will be all that different in 2020. Smarter and wiser than I am now. Hopefully wealthier and happier too. No taller. My voice might be a little deeper.

I might be living in Africa. I tire of America. I haven’t been to Africa since 2002. Life there was much slower-paced than here. Living out of America might serve to give me some much needed perspective on life.

I’d hope to have three feature-length scripts and a novel done by then. I’m almost a third of the way there. Will I have anything published? I wouldn’t be surprised if I did. If I really wanted to push it.

I can’t see myself being married in 2020. I feel no pressure to find that person unless my. I’d imagine many of my friends will be though. I wonder how that will change them. Will any of them have children?

Will I still be posting on this blog in 2020? It’ll be revamped several times by then. 10,000+ followers would be my goal by the end of that year if the blog is still up.

Who knows? Anything can happen in five years.


The word of the day is Respect. Wikipedia defines respect as  both a positive feeling of esteem for a person or other entity (such as a nation or a religion).

Yesterday was  September 11th.

I do not share the sentiment regarding 9/11 as other people do. I’m not a very Pro-America guy. I rarely identify as an American.

I made a status saying stating Finally the shameless pandering of America was over. And one friend (Ex-friend now) took what I said personally. He’s in the army so he’s a pretty Pro-America fellow.

He responded to my status and said every day should be Pro-America. And he said I should respect them. And I said No I don’t. I can tell that he was offended as he blocked me

I’ve realized a long time ago, I don’t respect the vast majority of things. I don’t give a positive feeling of esteem to people who died in horrific tragedies. I don’t give a positive esteem to the things people expect you to give. I talk to my parents like they are my equals these days. Some call that a lack of respect.

But I don’t show disdain for the people of 9/11. I’m neutral on the event. It’s fairly polarizing. Here we have innocent people who were slaughtered. But this sort of thing happens all across the world. People die and it’s a part of what happens.I understand the need to mourn, but the pro-america sentiment can get excessive and seem ignorant. The word respect is just so very icky. I don’t like using it or having to answer questions involving it.

He wanted me to show more respect. I can understand that. He wanted me to show positive feelings instead of neutral about America. I just can’t do that. It’s just not how I feel. I can’t respect a nation. There’s too many things wrong in America for me to say I respect it. I don’t hate America. I just look at it from an observer’s view. I try to be objective about the things that I can be.

I harbor no bad feelings to him now. If he doesn’t like what I have to say he can block me. That’s within his power.

I know many people would say that I should spare people’s feelings and not write that sort of stuff. But I don’t write to have people like me, respect me, or do anything other than read it. I saw so many pro America statuses. That was how those people felt. So I wrote a neutral status that criticized them. That was how I felt. I don’t regret making that status or offending that guy. He was still my friend when I criticized religion, drug abuse, and other things.

I’ve always been uneasy about saying I don’t respect many things. it sounds really bad when you say you don’t respect a country. I bet there are people who are pretty pissed I’m neutral about so many things.

Though in general, I respect my friends. That’s how I decide if someone is really my friend. Do they deserve my respect?


What if a future employer saw the stuff you did online?

Do you want your future employers seeing everything that you have done ever online? Most likely not. This does happen however. There are companies dedicated to finding out information about people using social networking. You should be afraid. You should be very afraid.

Can you really trust Facebook’s privacy settings to protect you? Can you really stop someone from seeing something you don’t want them to online?

It just takes one glitch in the system. One hack and all your information is free for everyone to see. You could be being watched right now by one of these companies hired to investigate people. They could be looking at your old myspace account you forgot about with the pictures of you punching out your cat. Or they could look up your old livejournal where you talked about how you weren’t a big fan of people from Turkey. If you’re trying to get a job as a Turkish veterinarian, those could be nails in your coffin!

What can you do about this?

You could up your Facebook privacy settings all the way up and hope to God, Allah, Zeus, and Xenu that they are never broken. You could panic and search for everything you’ve done in the past decade online. You could try and delete every last trace. There’s still no telling if anyone saved any of that or if it was archived on another site.

Or you could just not care like I do. While it would dishearten me if I didn’t get a job because somebody read this blog, I’m not going to go crazy about it. I’d rather have all those things online then go around deleting past things that I have done. It’s much more fun to be able to talk openly about tipocrites and tell stories than it would be to create a workfriendly blog.

I really hope some company is watching what I do online. They’d get to read all the silliness I’ve done over the years. They’d at least get a chuckle before denying my application. And that’s what I’m all about giving out smiles.

Cynical Smiles.

Chronicle Number One Conclusion.

Continued from.

Alcohol is everywhere. From the ads during the Super Bowl to bus stop signs, you see it anywhere you go. The commercials can come on during any television program. When I was a kid, I wanted my dad to get me Mike’s Hard Lemonade just because I saw it on TV. I didn’t realize what exactly it was. But I wanted it.

At college, alcohol discussion was everywhere. Oh what do you drink? Where’s the party at? Can you believe they ran out of alcohol? These were the conversations I heard daily as I walked around the dormitory those first few weeks. Parties were seen as these big social events. You had to go to them or you were doing something different.

“Oh You’re staying in tonight? That’s cool man.” “Yeah, we’re just chilling tonight.”

Before I can tell you my state of mind when my floor-mates came back from the party, you have to understand my experiences with alcohol before college.

I remember when I was younger, that my parents would hold these Christmas parties. So many of my parents’ friends would come over. They’d dress in traditional Ghanian clothing. They’d say a prayer before eating. And then they’d go on to drinking.

I remember my dad, a man that I had looked up to, would behave so differently after drinking. My father is a stern man. He rarely laughs at home. He is all business. I hated it at times but it was who he was. He had my and my brother’s best interests at hands. My father never drank excessively. But when he drank I could tell he was a different. He would begin cracking jokes and being generally laid back.

My parents’ friends would always come around and tell me it was up to me to be responsible for tonight. Tonight I was going to be the adult. The first time, I didn’t understand why they said that. But as I watched the adults drink. I knew something wasn’t right. Like I said before my father was a stern man. This guy cracking jokes and tripping around was not my father. He was an imposter in my father’s clothes. He made a mockery of what I thought my father was to me.

It was no different at college. The friends that I had didn’t come back from their parties. Their bodies came back but it was if they were controlled by someone else. I watched as they stumbled around the dorms not wanting to be seen by campus police. As a good friend of mine walked towards me and I could tell that this was not right. When they awoke the next day with some unable to remember what they had done, I just shook my head.

I told you before that we’re taught to be tolerant of everyone. I doubt that you would tolerate a racist or a homophobes opinion though. I doubt you would tolerate a murderer speaking about how it was actually the victim’s fault. I doubt you can tolerate a man who beats his wife. Maybe you can. In someone’s view of life, you would either be a fool or a saint.

I learned at college that I cannot be tolerant of alcohol. Just the mention of it puts me in a bad mood. I try my best to not hate people because of it. I hate alcohol, but not my friends who drink it.

The thing I hate most about alcohol is that I feel like nobody ever speaks against it. Smokers are told day in and day out that they need to quit. They will get a hole in their neck. They will get cancer. They will die. Drinkers are told “Drink Responsibly” which is the dumbest phrase I’ve ever heard. As far as I’m concerned, a responsible person never drinks alcohol excessively.

Some people ask me why I don’t just drink in moderation. Because then I’d be a part of the problem. There’s nothing alcohol can give me.

Another thing I learned in college is that people have real confidence issues. I’m not going to say specific names, but it really seems like they won’t approach people unless they’ve had something to drink. I knew this one girl who would only talk to me if she had drank. I just don’t get it.

I realized I couldn’t identify with my floor-mates as much as I would have liked too. I didn’t like parties. I didn’t like drugs. I didn’t like alcohol. And I wasn’t interested in women who were drunk.

I’d try my best to just fit in but every time they’d talk about going to parties, I shook my head. One guy never shut up.

Then I saw this one guy wearing a shirt. “Have Heart. Straight Edge.”

I remember thinking to myself. “Straight Edge. That’s what I am!” But I was suspicious. It seemed too good to be true.

I felt like I was alone as I waded through the mud and slock that was college interaction at times. I had seen him go out to parties. I was certain it was some kind of ironic joke.

Then I talked to the guy. As I realized what he was, it opened my eyes to what straight edge could be. He introduced me to the hardcore and punk music. I had only listened to Minor Threat  which I loved. Have Heart is close to being the best sound that has ever reached my ear.

After the first few weeks, he stopped going to parties. I was actually quite somewhat impressed of how alcohol didn’t bother him at all. I thought that maybe I should strive to be the same. Maybe I could be happier at college.

But I slowly realized what was good for him just wasn’t good for me. I was confused though. I wasn’t posi edge like he was. But I wasn’t exactly hardline. I didn’t want to beat people and carve Xs into their backs. I had hate but it wasn’t that strong.

One day when I was really bothering him, he called me Hate Edge. I remember looking it up and smiling. I finally realized just what I was.

There’s more stories about my freshman year of college, but I’ll end this chronicle on this note.

When it comes to alcohol, I don’t want to be around it.

Do I wish my friends didn’t drink? You’re damn right. I wish everybody was straight edge.  With complete honesty, that is my perfect world.  I want it so badly sometimes. But standing in my way is years and years of tradition and marketing. But I will not quit. If I convince one person not to drink for even one night, I’m one step closer.

As much as I see this world as being unjust, violent, generally an awful place, it doesn’t depress me. It gives me motivation. I want to see a better world. And I’ll have it someday.

Chronicle Number One Pt 2.

Continued from.

Tolerance is one of my favorite words. We should be tolerant of everyone. We should be willing to accept differences that the people around us have. It was one of the major things I thought  I could learn at college.

Independence isn’t one of my favorite words but it was another thing I had to learn. Just like like responsibility, maturity, and initiative.

Those last three words are some of my father’s most used words. He made sure to include them as I packed away my laptop for college.  He mentioned them again on the car ride there. He told me not to waste my potential.

My mother was sad that I had to go. She told me to call every week as we got into my Dad’s van. My brother never has much to say. He told me that he was used to being alone so I shouldn’t worry about him. I never understood what he meant by that until this year.

When we arrived at the College of New Jersey, the feelings of apprehension and excitement were twisting their way through my body. I had never visited the college dorms. I didn’t even walk around the campus before orientation. I had picked the college without knowing much about it other than the name.  The opportunity to tell people that I’m going to THE College of New Jersey was a major factor in my college decision. My father gave his approval saying it was a good school.

As our car drove on its way to my dorm, I realized how alluring the college campus was. I had read some e-mails about how there was construction going on. I didn’t care how the campus looked when I picked it, however once I had seen the campus with my own eyes, apprehension sailed away. The trees and the lakes put my body at ease.

It didn’t last long.

Once we parked the car and started unloading my stuff, I noticed several students walking around. I then remembered the faces of change. I was going to have to face them very soon.

After going through the process of obtaining my key and being introduced to the community advisers, I was sent on my way. I looked down a hall to faces I would never forget.

I never forget a face. I rarely forget names. Once I’ve seen a person once, they’re carved into my brain. Each person I meet is caught in my web forever, regardless of how I feel about them later on. Unlike a spider, my webs are indestructible. No matter how much someone tries to cut themselves out, I’ll never forget them or the memories that come with them. To me each of my friendships are eternal. Each time I see a person I know, my memories of them are fresh. It’s like they were never gone.  It’s part of the reason sometimes I forget to say hi to people. I feel as though I’ve just seen them.

The faces I saw that day were varied. Some were average. Others were shaped weirdly. Some were better looking than others.  Some I may never want to see again. Others I wish I had spent more time with because I’ll never see them again.

Two of these faces would become some of the best friends I would ever have.

I walked down the hallway giving out hellos and what’s ups like they were on sale. I entered my room and noticed my roommate had been there already. I had never seen a picture of my roommate. I just knew that his name was [NAME OF ROOMMATE REDACTED].

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a normal teenager. I don’t consider myself a weirdo. I just know that my opinion differs from a lot of people. There’s only so many personalities that I’m compatible with. My friends are made up by most of them, but they don’t live with me. The only people I had lived with my entire life were my parents. I had been to sleep overs, but never had I been over more than a few days.

Lucky for me, [NAME OF ROOMMATE REDACTED] turned out to one of the coolest guys I had ever met  We got a long fine in the coming weeks. Though the first time we spoke I was very paranoid. I thought he was trying to steal my money. He offered to go buy me an Ethernet cable when I told him I had forgotten. I decided to go with him instead of handing over my money.

When we got back from there, I met the rest of the guys in my suite, an asian, a guytalian , an [NAME OF MYSTERIOUS SUITEMATE REDACTED], and something else.

Things were looking up. They were all pretty cool guys barring one. I thought about how I could get used to living with these guys.

Then the first weekend came. And with weekends came, alcohol. I thought about how I’d learn tolerance. I contemplated going to a college party with the rest of them.

I didn’t go. But I anticipated their return. I was in college to learn tolerance after all.

The only thing I learned however is that sometimes tolerance just isn’t possible.


The Boondocks.

The Boondocks is a television show on Adult Swim. I remember watching the premiere of the show. It was very different than other Adult Swim shows. The show’s humor was based on race. The word, “nigga” and its deriatives were used often. The main characters were black. It wasn’t just complete insanity for laughs like Sealab 2021 or Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It wasn’t a part of their anime line-up. It felt like a show for adults and not stoned out college students.

The show was adapted from a comic which I had read all the time. The comic was great and I expected the show to be even better. There are limits to what can be done with a daily comic strip.

The main character, Huey translated perfectly to the television screen. But later on the focus left Huey and moved onto his brother and his grandfather. I enjoy both of them, but I always thought the show was best when Huey was at the center of the plot.

Take a look at the first season.

The first season of the Boondocks was filled with episodes covering various topics in black culture. One episode tackled how two young black children adapted to moving into a white suburb town. The next one brought forth an idea that perhaps not all black criminals are persecuted by the government. The show was not without its jokes, but it didn’t insult my intelligence most of the time.

But for an unknown reason after this season, the messages began to disappear a bit. In the first season finale, Huey Freeman is attempting to free a wrongly accused friend from the death penalty.

In the third season finale, Huey, now labeled a domestic terrorist, must team up with a parody of Jack Bauer who kicks people in the balls and save the town.

The third season is riddled with these episodes that are kinda funny but there’s not much behind them. There’s more parody. There’s more action. I didn’t hate it but I thought it never connected with me the same way the first season did. It disappointed me very much as it was being hyped to be the last season.  To think the show would end with a 24 parody saddened me very much.

The animation was better, but it just didn’t have that same emotional involvement or at least a balance between the wackiness and serious.

One season one episode, I’ll note here is Wingmen. Huey and Riley head back to their hometown. Huey meets an old friend who is angry at him for leaving. The way it’s done is very nice. The episode was not without its jokes, but there was a grounding element to it. The characters felt human and not just cartoons.

I feel as though with each subsequent season, they lost that grounding element and went straight for the wackiness. I wish they’d find that balance again. I think the Boondocks is one of the best shows, Adult Swim has ever shown. If they reached their full potential, the Boondocks would be the best.

Why do some people upload borderline pornographic pictures to facebook?

I have looked through each and every single one of my Facebook friend’s albums.  I’ve seen several pictures so racy that I wouldn’t let my little nephews and nieces look at them.

Now I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with taking pictures of yourself. But there comes a point where you’re no longer just uploading profile pictures and you’re just posting headshots from your recent porn audition.

There’s nothing wrong with looking for compliments. We all know what a person really wants when they post that status about how they recently got a job. They want the status to be liked. They want a comment congratulating them.

There’s always losers who need self assurance, But this goes beyond that.

I know some people have such low self esteem so they feel the need to upload pictures of themselves so the strangers they’ve added will compliment them.

But then there are people just posting pictures of them practically naked. They’re basically showing off everything. And when I say everything I mean EVERYTHING. I once saw a vulva. Or what I think was a vulva.

Sometimes they’re with their significant other and it’s getting a bit crazy. I know this one girl who posted pictures of her day off with her boyfriend and it just looked like the intro to a pornographic movie. Each picture they just got closer and closer, her shirt came off. The last pic might as well have had a caption of ” Catch the rest of the Assction at http://www.girlgetsplowed.com”

Do these people think we want to see them in these positions?

It’s not like they take requests. I’ve left a few in my day and I never get any responses.

So what is the point? Just plain old Narcissism or exhibitionism?

Also who is taking all of these pictures? Because sometimes the shots are so dynamic, there’s no way the person could have done it by themselves. How do you go about talking to a friend about this?

“Alright, Teddy. Come over tomorrow. We’re taking facebook pictures. Don’t forget the baby oil. We’re going to need to soak back in that stuff so it gleams perfectly in the sunlight.”

Now some people may say I shouldn’t be going through people’s facebook pictures.

Those people are probably the same ones taking these pictures.

There’s No One Good Enough to Be Alone.

I’ve been watching people all my life go through “relationships”. It always ends up being a waste of time.

Do you know how many of my friends’ girlfriends, I’ve befriended?

Not many because they’re all just clocks ticking away.

They’ll be gone soon enough. Then they’ll have to stop being your friend because you’re their ex’s friend.

All that effort in making a new friend and it just goes kaput!

Now I’ve never been in a relationship, but  I’ve come up with a big conclusion.

People are afraid of being alone. People want someone there to listen to them. They want someone there to feed them mayonnaise and play classic rock.

Why can’t anyone be alone? Is there no person good enough to be happy by his or herself?

People have friends but that doesn’t seem to be enough. Many believe they want and/or need  that special someone in their life.

The idea of a romantic partner is shoved down the throats of children from about a very young age. The prince has to save the princess and they live happily ever after.

I have never seen a romance film end with the main character deciding he’d rather be by himself. He’s either trapped between two girls and makes a choice or he’s got one girl he fixated on. (or He poisons himself before she wakes up from her sleep)

This idea has ruined lives and driven many adolescents to bad decisions. Do you know how many people I know went to a certain college because their precious irreplaceable romantic partner would be nearby?

People in relationships don’t bother me.

Okay actually they do. But that’s not a discussion for a today.

I just find it bizarre that nobody can go through life without desiring a romantic partner.

Of course there is that sex thing, but that’s really a small factor.

Bizarro De Bizarro

Bloom. Bloom. Bloom. If you’ve ever stopped and listened in the middle of spring, you could hear the sound of a flower blossoming. Many don’t believe the sound exists. Those people cannot enjoy the simple things in life.

Children can enjoy the mundane things about life. If you leave a child alone with some cardboard, you could discover many different things when you return. Perhaps the child will have made the cardboard into a hat or a house depending on how much you left. Some children are not very creative and would just chew on the cardboard.

But an adult? They would just see garbage or nothing at all. This isn’t the case with all, but it’s what to be expected of adults. An adult is a not allowed to wear cardboard on their head. They’re not supposed to spend their day climbing trees and getting dirty. An adult is expected to pay the bills, get married, have children, and aid society. Where there was once imagination is now pragmatism. This is not always the case with every person.

But for those who lose their imagination when does it happen? When does a person lose their sense of adventure? Why does the imagination seem to die in some people as they edge closer towards their death? You would think with the inevitability of death, that people would want to do as much as possible. They would want to their life to be flexible. They would want to be free,.

But an adult is not free. They are tethered by bills. They are tethered by debts. They are tethered to obligations and responsibility. A ten year old can spend their day eating Doritos and watching cartoons with friends. A twenty year old should spend their day working for money and planning for the future. Adults who aren’t tethered are seen as bizarre. Adults who can hear the sound of flowers blossoming are few in numbers. If you asked a child to listen for the sound, they would try. If you asked an adult, they would say stop wasting my time.

Time. Once you truly understand, it becomes your worst enemy. You can never have enough of it. Your time in school will come to an end. Your time with your friends will come to an end. Your time on this planet will come to an end. In a mere two hundred years, you and  your friends will be forgotten.  Unless you have power.

Every memory you have is almost pointless. Once your brain slowly deteriorates, it almost doesn’t matter anymore how much you enjoyed that time you and your friends went to Six Flags. It almost doesn’t matter that time you almost drowned and shouted your friend’s name. It’s almost meaningless. It’s only completely meaningless once you’re dead.

Some people are already dead. They walk around as husks of meat. Worried about all their problems and never sit down to listen to the flowers blossom. They spend their lives obsessed with time. How much time it takes to get to and from work. How much time it will take them to pay off their student loans. How much time do they have left.

The sound of flowers blossoming isn’t very loud. It’s easy to imagine why nobody ever hears it.

People who tip are hypocrites.

You wouldn’t tip your doctor. You wouldn’t tip your surgeon. You wouldn’t tip your dentist. You wouldn’t tip your plumber.

You wouldn’t tip your Fed Ex Package Handler. You don’t tip your cashier. You wouldn’t even tip the cook who made the food.

You never look at your electric bill and say “Oh wow. I better add 15% because they deserve it for giving me good service.”

I spoke before about how tipping is ruined by society. What was once a customary thank you has become forced.

I’ve heard people walk away from bad service and say “Ha. I only gave him 10% tip.”

You shouldn’t give him any tip at all.

Now I’ve heard stuff like “But then he or she won’t get paid as much.”

Since when was that the customer’s problem? I don’t give a shit how much a person is being paid to bring me out food.

Don’t like the pay? Get a new job, dipshit.

Another argument I hear is “They stand all day.”

There are harder jobs than being a waiter like being the guy who has to clean out a porta-potty.I don’t see people leaving one dollar bills after leaving a steaming pile of crap.

I know you hypocrites don’t send fucking money to sweatshops for all the underpaid workers making the shoes you walk on.

This is a new form of hypocrisy. I shall deem it Tipocrisy.

You tipocrites are ruining the food industry. You’re creating waiters who will spit in the food of people who don’t tip. They won’t give as good service to someone who doesn’t tip as high as someone else.

It’s time for this to end. I want to enjoy my food without having to taste a loogie the waiter because I didn’t put down an extra five.

Also think about waiters in countries where they don’t tip. They don’t get paid as much. Anybody who’s taken a business class knows that by tipping, you’re destroying the economy. Tippers are the reason that we’re in debt today!

Be Smart. Think of others and don’t tip your waiter.