dear tony, where’s your jungle fever?

2893776813_7ee698ff28 Detective Diana asks, Why don’t you date black women? I’ve seen millions of pictures of you with women, women in your room, on your bed, in your arms, at your table, by your side, and none of them is black! (Your family doesn’t count!) Have you ever gone out with a black woman or do you have a “thing” for skinny white bitches with long (bottle job) blonde hair? And damn it, whyyyyy?

i know it might look like i blog Evvvvvvery part of my life, but even at my most prolific i was only writing four times a day. take  the most boring man and in his day theres way more than four things to talk about.

heres the deal with me and nubian princesses.

when you are the only black kid in town, when you are going through puberty and all you see are white faces, thats what you are going to be attracted to.

meanwhile when the only time you see faces that look like yours at family picnics and christmas and reunions and stuff, youre probably not going to be attracted to them because they look like your cousin or grandma or sister or auntie.

but thanks to the world wide web of love and particularly blogging, the world famous reached across the sea

and one day i caught the eye of a young lady in Holland who wrote a blog called Just A Girl.

she was funny and smart and one thing i loved (and still love) about blogging is learning about other peoples cultures and food and weirdnesses that happen ANYWHERE ELSE but in the USA.

which is probably why its no surprise that i have been such a huge fan of Canadian blogs.

anyways JaG and i would link to each other and email and leave comments and one day

the Dutch Government

reached out to me and offered me a vacation in Amsterdam, all expenses paid, including hotel, bicycle, museum pass, and everything.

i said whats the catch?

they said no catch just put this little button on your blog and promise us that you will write ONE thing about your trip to the land of the nether

i said done and done and i wrote JaG and i said America is about to invade

and she sent me back this very picture


and i flew to europe and she said something about a possible new boyfriend

and i said something along the lines of hos in different area codes and she said i dont know that phrase

i said, if you meet me IRL and you love me

you must follow your heart.

at the time i was working for Buzznet, which was Flickr before Flickr was Flickr

it was also a great community of people from all around the world.

i said baby im gonna have a Buzznet party and i want you and Bicycle Mark to come and everyone else who

loves to party and she said done done done

and i said no pressure but if we fall for each other you will be the first black girl i ever kissed

so its a good thing you have this fake bf because you really should practice your kissing before i get there

she laughed and said dont get your hopes up


so we met and it was beautiful and we hit it off immediately and a party was thrown

but it was i who was super nervous and i drank too much and i smoked too much and i ate too much and

soon it was alllll being hurled into the spectacular amsterdam canal

and i was all now ive blown it, who wants to kiss a guy with vomit breath

and she escorted me to my five star hotel and she waited for me to brush my teeth and mouthwash my mouth

and when i got out of the bedroom

there she was

and let me tell you this, detective,

that girl had definitely practiced.

two years later we reunited in canada

and thats a story for a way different question.

theres cat hair on my cubs hat

Elvis Costellotheres cat hair on my shirt.

when i rolled over to one side of my bed there was cat hair there too.

the girl on the couch spent the night else where last night so i shut my door and gave them

the entire run of the mansion

other than my messy little room

and at an early hour they stuck their paws under the door

and meowed and rattled walls

and demanded to see the man of the house.

due to one thing leading to another i had not retired until 3am and i did not appreciate this disturbance at the heron house

so i threw a shoe at the door to shut them up

but they found the shoe string of the sneaker and pulled at it

thus making the door bang that much louder

so i threw another shoe

and another.

and finally a book

and two more books.

of course they thought this was a hilarious game.

so i stormed to the door, making sure to be extra loud on the hardwood floor

i heard them scatter and i whipped open the door and dramatically chased them around the first floor.

i drew a bath.

i caught them.

i threw one and then the other in the bath.

their feet touched the top of the water and miraculously flew elsewhere.

they hid. wet. somehow mad AT ME

i marched back to bed

pulled the blanket over my head.

and on the blanket – more cat hair.