Sunday, October 26, 2008
"If I Were A Girl"
*try to read it with the melody of the original song lol*
If I were a Girl, I wouldn't thirst him.
Calling asking where he's at when he already
told me he was going to the gym!
If I were a Girl, I would just say what I mean.
Instead of asking a fucking question when I already
know the answer, I swear I would just learn how
to read in between!
If I were a Girl, I would count flirting as cheating,
and not simply just say "Oh its harmless" and give
other dudes my number and pretend like in the future
it wont affect anything.
If I were a Girl, I would basically be much smarter.
I wouldnt go over a dudes house in a tanktop and little
booty shorts and then pretend like we weren't going to
f*ck when my outfit already suggests that we were, I swear
I wouldnt just want a dude because he already has a girl..If I were
girl.
If I were a Girl, I wouldnt call him names, that I would get mad
if he called me...basically If I were a Girl I wouldnt play all the
little stupid ass games!
the end :)
lmao. Maybe a little un-Isaiah like, and a little corny, but TRUE!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
11th commandment.
VOTE OR PERISH!

On his blog, Kanye described what these pictures entail as "Life changing," and I think his words alone epitomize what this upcoming election means for our country.
If you are 18 years of age or older and haven't already registered to vote,fuck reading the rest of this...go do it NOW! This election, rather you're Democrat or Republican (or like me, you vote based on who best fits what the country needs at that time), is one of the most pivotal elections in
history.Be informed, don't just appeal to popularity and vote based on who "Pop Culture" aligns with. No doubt, having a man of ethnic decent as our next president would be extremely dope, but to base one's vote on such grounds makes one ignorant in my book...and even though I dont mind saying that I am voting for Obama, his race is the least thing determining my vote.
But in the end, we all vote based on our own paradigms and what we feel to be of integral importance in our lives and the country, so whatever motivates you, just exert that energy at the polls and let your voice be heard. This is my first time voting and since alot of people my age will be reading this, it is you guys' first time too... Lets start this shit off right!
Youth; America's
pulse.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
the Wayfarer
Radiators are great, but nothing captures the elegance and style like the wayfarer. Check the pics out and see what I mean:






HA! From the Blues Brothers, to JFK, to Nicole Richie, to Lindsay Lohan, to Kanye, to Pharrell, and to many others... we see the versatility and the history of these sunglasses. It's not just about fashion...its just history that you don't learn in your history class. I Teach! :).
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I call it: "The Scientist"
The Scientist
“JUST BE CALM” was all the voice over the microphone was able to muster. I mean, after all it was just a voice to me anyway. But I suppose I couldn’t blame him, nobody should really- seeing as though the human fabric is only malleable at the dangers of self harm- how could I expect the rollercoaster operator to show genuine concern for a group of obnoxious teenagers dangling upside down at the very peek of theme-park ecstasy. Philosophically it would be…
“Thomas!”
“What?” I shouted back at her, not dogmatically as the question presented, but you know; a soft shout.
“Do you realize that this thin little belt is the only thing that prevents our plummet into the ground,” she said, but continuing before I was able to think of a comforting gesture, “Why do you seem to drift off into space as if you haven’t a worry in the world?” “I do have worries” I responded, “I worry that the vein protruding from your forehead will fulminate any minute now!” Yes, she smiles! I’m shocked she even knows what “fulminate” means though.
“Don’t tease me at a time like this, it is so not funny,” but despite her words, the smile and her dimples, the talk of all the guys in town, gave her away more than her ambiguous English could.
Amber was unlike any other gal I’ve ever met. She was so beautifully flawed. One would assume the task of figuring out her person within a matter of minutes, yet she is the antithesis of herself in the next breath. It was only our first date, but the small town of Hutchinson, Massachusetts enabled me an early blueprint for the person I had the mission of filling in. She’s one of those girls that gives as she receives. Be nice to her and you’ll be treated nicely back. Where has that gotten anyone in life? Her personality was just not logical, but it was extremely compelling. How could a girl headed for Boston University be so…
“I swear to Gosh, is any one even in there?”
Wow, “Gosh” instead of “God”. A multi-dimensional joke, how exciting. She then maneuvered her hand gracefully across my brow in order to knock on my head to make her humor more apparent, but as it was already obvious, the length of her arms simply were not forgiving. The weight of those five gold plated bracelets didn’t help either. Seriously, how could a girl need so many wants? Louis Vuitton this, BCBG that; she was definitely keeping up with the Jones’ as they say.
“So tell me babe, how much did you spend on your outfit tonight? It looks great, don’t get me wrong.”
“Well that’s all that matters then right?”
“Well I still would like to know; you know, just for my own inquiry.”
“Fuck Tommy, I don’t know! Who looks at price tags in the 21st century anyways?”
Again, a question that I felt did not necessitate my answer. I shook my head at her superficiality, but I did it within my head. Didn’t want to give my thoughts away.
“JUST A COUPLE MORE MINUTES KIDS, BEAR WITH US” the detached voice echoed.
“They need to hurry up, ugh, worst night ever,” she complained, finishing with a sigh to add icing to the cake she had just fed me. “Are you not having a good time?” I questioned, perhaps genuinely, but maybe not. She gave a cold “are you kidding me?” stare; I wasn’t foreign to that face. She gave me a similar one when she seen my 1975 Chevy that I came by to scoop her up in. This time it did have a different aesthetic to it however; maybe it was a vision only applicable to our current bat-like nature. Her long brown hair seemed endless against the grounded clouds. I could not see its end from my position; I could not see her beginning from any position.
“Although it isn’t my fault, I am quite sorry about how this turned out.”
“No, Don’t apologize. You’re right it isn’t your fault.”
Ha, so easily apologetic. Jesus Christ, where is this girl’s brai…
… “Just try to be a little less weird sometimes, k?”
“Weird! What the… how in the hell am I weird? You are the one with no definitive personality. Small vocabulary, then slight eloquence; fashion junkie, but Boston University intellectual supposedly. Who are you?”
“See, there it goes right there. That question alone epitomizes Thomas Garrison. There is a brilliant guy in there, yet the way you allow yourself to flourish is by questioning things for which there is already an answer; you question actions, not really seeking for responses, but more so seeing how the question is approached which – what you think – in turn grants insight into the person. You don’t desire to know why I think you’re weird, because you strive for this exact persona so that it may isolate you from human nature and allow you to enter an objective world full of criticisms, a lack of emotion, and experimentation of people. The opposite sex especially; ME!”
I was flabbergasted. Now she chooses to show the skill that not only got her into such a prestigious institution, but also answering the question of why she’s even on this date with me in the first place. She is me, but seemingly better at it. What in the hell just happened?
“ALL DONE LADIES AND GENTS. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE, ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR DAY”
We finished the loop, but my world remained upside down. Her long brown hair revealed its end into her lap, resting like her hands upon her teal shaded dress. She was now more beautiful than ever. I never noticed how soft her chestnut painted skin looked; I wanted to touch her for the first time, not just dissect her. It seems as though my heart had just won the gold, but only silver for my mind.
“Dude, get up? Why are you still sitting there?”
And I rose. I was now the hunted.
Don't get how the title fits the story? You're so stupid! lol :)