busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Sunday, July 24, 2016

    tony are you sure you’re black? 

    two years oldcynical and new busblog reader Lana [Turner??] from naturobetic has many many questions.

    Are you absolutely SURE you’re black? I’m having a hard time buying THAT, too! I saw many pics of you and you only look part black in one. Is your father black or part black? I saw your mother’s pic; she doesn’t look black, either. Were you adopted?

    And does “being” black REALLY give you permission to call people the N word? Or even utter the N word? It was wrong for Paula Deen and it’s wrong for you! Or, do you just wish you were black ’cause it’s cool?

    the great thing about looks is they are deceiving.

    when i was born and until i was in about the third grade i was very light skinned, much like the relatives i had on my fathers side of the family. we think my moms dad is cuban, but he could just be canadian.

    you see, the records of black people, are not as detailed as those of other races because, well… guess.

    my mother and father are really black. they met at a historically black college in Tennessee because believe it or not, but not that long ago blacks were not allowed to go to a lot of colleges – particularly in the south. even if you were light skinned.

    so they went to school, met, fell in love. my dad was the president of his fraternity – a black one. my mom was the star of her sorority (also, black).

    and when they got married and had children they had two little black kids. one was light skinned one was dark skinned.

    like most kids we visited santa in december – long after any summer tan would have worn off and when i was in 1st grade this is what we looked like. she was clearly darker than me. and freaked out by Mr. Claus

    me and my sister and santa

    then just a few years later we saw him again and something miraculous happened

    she was no longer *much* darker than me. also she had chilled.

    keep smiling

    and just look how my afro was starting to really get gorgeous.

    as i got older i got darker. maybe theres a scientific term for it.

    5thrown

    and my afro just got bigger.

    14braces

    so anyway, yes, black. and yes, the shade of my skin has lightened since high school.

    it’s weird. but real. it’s not a skin disease. i have no blotchy areas.

    but, still, black and beautiful. not adopted.

    and with that, yes, i can use the n word. much as i like.

    and i can travel freely to any part of town.

    plus, when youre light skinned like i am, you can also travel freely to all parts of town.

    nowadays, especially since i shave my head, mexicans think im mexicans

    middle easterners think im from the middle east.

    and people tend to project whatever theyre most comfortable with.

    as someone who enjoys being a reporter, it’s a great blessing.

    is being black “cool”?

    it wasnt when i was a kid

    until i made it cool.

  2. Friday, April 18, 2003

    rarely do i smoke 

    but sometimes i do and all the ladies in the house will say ho.

    one time a friend of mine tried to commit suicide and i drove that person to the hospital and i sat on the curb with an ambulance driver and he let me bum a smoke, and then another. and then one more.

    there have been a few times here at the xbi where i have had that urge, but i never followed up on it. to smoke, that is.

    until this morning, when the whole stratosphere collapsed around me and everything became super slow motion and i used my superpowers against evil and i was able to matrix the bullets and bend over backwards and fire back while doing gymnastics and to remind them who the fuck they were dealing with i jumped to the next building like crouching tiger and pulled off the split kick flip landing on my hands and holding that pose with my feet pointing out.

    then i popped back on my feet and spit through my teeth.

    dug through the pockets of one of the bleeding assailants and took out an american spirit and threw the rest of the pack at his chest.

    lit it with the adrenalin that was shooting out of my pupils leaned against the rail of the balcony and pulled a long drag

    and released it.

    a little bird said he was going through some shit himself and asked for a hit which i gladly obliged.

    tweet tweet tweet tweet. that damn bird wouldn’t shut up. talking about how the crows eat his eggs and how his wife doesn’t like the nest.

    how she says that the worms taste “funny.”

    funny how?

    she wont tell me. she just says “funny.”

    so i put the rest of the cigarette on the edge of the table and went on my way realizing that life could be worse.

    you could be walking around with no hands forced to eat funny tasting worms all day.

    the coyote’s bark + bunsen