19th Jun2005

Deep Throat Was Revealed. He Didn’t Look Like He Did On The X-Files.

by Will

“We like to call him ‘The Louisville Smuggler’.”

If you ask me, Deep Throat was a lot cooler when he was the Black guy from “21 Jump Street”…

27th Apr2005

Saluting A Real American Hero. No, An Actual Soldier.

by Will

I know I haven’t written much lately. There’s just so much going these days, ya know? Not just with me, but in the world in general. School bus crashes, disappearing club kids, and drive-by shootings…There’s a guy who’ll miss his college graduation next week ’cause they just fished him out of a stream. There’s a kid who’ll never graduate high school because he had the misfortune of living in a dangerous school district. As much as I’d love to join the discussion of cuisine and review bad import movies, I didn’t feel I could write until I had something meaningful to say. All of this makes me think about life, and about people who’re actually doing something with theirs.

Lately, my thoughts have been with Shelly’s cousin, Chris. You see, Chris is about to ship out for training before being deployed to Iraq. He is about to fight for his country and, say what you will about the president or the war, you cannot deny the meaning of this gesture. We tend to worry about little things, such as “I hope the customers today aren’t assholes”, while people are off, risking their lives in strange, foreign locales so that we can enjoy unnecessary luxuries.

Now, my patriotism goes about as far as “G.I.Joe”, but this really hits close to home. Chris is a great guy, just like many of the others serving abroad. I wouldn’t wish this assignment on my worst enemy (Eunice, anybody?) , so i especially don’t want him over there. But I have to keep telling myself that he’s going to be OK. That’s all any of us can do right now. Normally, I’m Captain Loophole, looking for a way out of things, but my Zach Morris powers are failing me right now. I don’t see a con out of this situation, which makes me even more anxious. His girlfriend, jokingly, had the idea of slightly hitting him with her car; not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to render him ineffective for combat. As funny as it sounded at first, it really doesn’t sound that far-fetched at the moment…

I can’t imagine what must be going through his head, but I know he’s probably worried, as I’m worried for him. I was apprehensive about writing this because I didn’t really know how to best convey my thoughts. When I think of the risk he’s about to take…I’m speechless.Not only because of the gesture, but also because he is about to do something that I could not do. I am not brave enough to do this, as ashamed as I am to admit that. What am I doing with MY life? Nothing that compares to this.

So, all I can do is think positively, keep him in my prayers, and be thankful. Thank you, Chris. Thank you and everyone else fighting, for doing what I could not do. Thank you for your bravery and sacrifice, and just know that we are all keeping you in our thoughts.

20th Apr2005

Republicans & Fundamentalist Christians. Says It All…

by Will

Well, big week, big week…

We’ve got a new pope and Ann Coulter’s on the cover of Time. Isn’t all this in Revelations or something?

Anyway, I’m not too fond of the conservatives or certain religious sects at the moment. I think my feelings on both are best wrapped up in this recent report from Rolling Stone:

“The problem not only with fundamentalist Christians but with Republicans in general is not that they act on blind faith, without thinking. The problem is that they are incorrigible doubters with an insatiable appetite for Evidence. What they get off on is not Believing, but in having their beliefs tested. That’s why their conversations and their media are so completely dominated by implacable bogeymen: marrying gays, liberals, the ACLU, Sean Penn, Europeans and so on. Their faith both in God and in their political convictions is too weak to survive without an unceasing string of real and imaginary confrontations with those people – and for those confrontations, they are constantly assembling evidence and facts to make their case.

But here’s the twist, They are not looking for facts which to defeat opponents. They are looking for facts that ensure them an ever-expanding roster of opponents. They can be correct facts, incorrect facts, irrelevant facts, it doesn’t matter. The point is not to win the argument, the point is to make sure the argument never stops. “

11th Apr2005

The TV Tropes of 24 and Diff’rent Strokes

by Will

Where have all the original ideas gone?

For the second time in four seasons, “24” has invoked the 25th Amendment.

Now, I’ve gotta admit, it’s a wicked awesome clause that rarely has a use, but a typical “24” season is built around finding some way to get the VP into the Big Chair. But as we saw tonight, I don’t think President Logan is up to the task, which may explain why David Palmer’s coming back for the last four hours of the season.

I know TV reuses ideas, but this is so hackneyed! How would the US invoke the 25th in 2 consecutive presidential terms?!! Why didn’t these people just nominate the VP in the first place? Why go through all the legwork? Was there no other way to start the final act of the season?

This reminds me of another TV gripe I’ve had recently: “Diff’rent Strokes”. The 8th episode of Season 1 is a clip show. A show full of flashbacks. Of the 7 episodes that aired prior.

OK, a standard TV season is 22 episodes. When shows DO resort to clip shows, they usually have a couple of seasons under their belt, so that the flashbacks sort of build upon each other to further the plot.

But not Diff’rent Strokes! Oh, no! They felt the first seven episodes were so monumental, they had to recap them a mere two months after the show began! And did I mention that this trip down memory lane was a two-parter?!!! Yup, they had the audacity to waste 60 minutes just to convince us that hilarity ensues when a rich white dude adopts 2 soul brothas from Harlem. Episode frickin’ 8!!! The stars hadn’t even discovered hookers and blow by episode 8! THAT’S when the show really started taking off…

20th Feb2005

Well, Clinton Always Did Love Bush…

by Will

In a land a world away…

Two men….

One mission…

One hates broccoli…

One LOVES blowjobs…

THE buddy cop adventure of the new season


Coming this fall on UPN

(G0d, I love that picture!)

20th Jan2005

The Inauguration Hulk

by Will

“…This town needs an enema!”

Happy Inauguration Day, AKA “Black Thursday”! Yup, Washington is filled with Texans with nothing better to do with their time. Everything IS bigger in Texas, including morons. But hey, it’s ee-naw-gur-a-shun time, so “commence to jigglin’!”

While we’re on the topic of inaugurations and morons, PLEASE go to this site.


Funniest thing I’ve found in awhile. I love his thoughts on the inauguration. Shows that even retarded, gamma-irradiated monsters knew which side to vote for!

29th Dec2004

What Should I Do With My Life?

by Will

Today’s Episode: “Where There’s a Will, There Ain’t Apparently A Way…”

So, in terms of occupation, I’m totally wasting my life. I mean, this has been brewing for awhile, but it’s finally catching up to me. I feel like I’m doing nothing worthwhile, professionally.

I need to go back to school. I KNOW this. But for what? I think about law school, but I really just wanna be able to call myself “a lawyer”. I call that my “Star Jones Complex”. I don’t know if I really want to practice law, but I’d like to be able to if I felt in the mood one morning. I think I’d make a good lawyer. You know, the Matlock kind who totally pulls something out of his ass to save the day at the last minute. I’d be a wildcard lawyer. People wouldn’t really come to me unless they needed a miracle. And in my spare time, I’d be a legal consultant to “Inside Edition”. Man, that’d be the life!

Next, I think about grad school. But what would I go for? I’m kinda done with the whole “head games” field. Yeah, Human Dev was fun and all, but it didn’t exactly hone my mutant powers. It’s like going to Xavier’s and, after 15 yrs, still blasting holes in walls everytime you wake up in the morning. I was naturally gifted in reading people. Textbooks didn’t teach me that. Sure, I could spend thousands MORE to become certified in reading people, or I could go out on a limb, and try something new.

I think I’d be great in government. Politics. Seriously. I LOVE some good muckraking, and I make a good “#2”. No, you sickos, I don’t mean “shit”. I mean, I’m a good “man behind the man.” I’d love to be a campaign manager or something one day, but for now, I’d really enjoy being a “cog in the wheel”, as long as I could see that my work was worthwhile and contributing to something important. I’m all about the policy reform. As dumb as it sounds, I’d LOVE to be a Capitol Hill staffer right now. And it’d only be better for you readers, ’cause we’ve all learned how entertaining blogs of Hill staffers can be (google “Washingtonienne”)

In college, people like Jennine used to talk about celebrities, such as Craig David, and lament, “He’s our age.” This was meant as, “Why aren’t we totally celebrities or something?” At the time, I just brushed it off, as “Everything in its time.” But now, I’m starting to feel the same way.

When will my ship come in? Do I even HAVE a ship? Are my reservations in “3rd class steerage” like all those peasants who drowned on the Titanic?!!

It’s hard, ’cause I know pseudo-celebrities. I went to high school with four current NBA players (Jamison Brewer, Roger Mason, Rodney White, and Demarr Johnson). I had Entomology @ Cornell with a lingerie model (http://www.summerrayne.net). I swear, these better not be the 5 people I meet in Heaven, ’cause I am seriously asking for a transfer!

I just wonder, do I have some special talent I’m not exploiting? I feel like my best performance is ahead of me and not behind, but what form will it take? What am I supposed to be doing?

PLEASE someone help me!!! I mean it. Use the “comments” section. Use the guestbook. E-mail. I don’t care. Suggestions, people!

“I’m not a praying man, but…Superman, if you can hear me…”

16th Dec2004

Where’s MY Confidant?

by Will

Today’s Episode: “Where’s My ‘Melissa’?”

So, recently, I’ve been thinking about friends…You know, what they mean, who they truly are, etc. A lot of us throw around the term “friend”, but is it always accurate? A lot of the time, these people are acquaintances. Or people we wouldn’t mind getting drunk with. But will they really go to bat for you?

Shelly’s got a ton of really great friends. There’s Pete. There’s Leigh. But the one who stands out to me most is Melissa. I can’t even begin to describe this friendship. It’s best friend-meets-sister-meets-possible lover in another life. Sorry, girls 😛 Anyway, one of them is basically the extension the other person. Melissa knows how Shelly’s going to feel and react to everything & vice versa.

Well, watching this friendship, I started thinking about my own life. “Where’s my Melissa?” I wondered. Well, I always kinda joked that there’s no one person in the world who can fill that role, mainly, because no one person “gets” me. Instead, to understand that Essence of Will, it would require a roundtable discussion of several. They each bring something to the table and understand a different facet of me. If you could put them all together, you’d have the full story on me. But instead, you have to track these people down if you want the “real deal”

First, there’s Tarek. Right now, I’d say he’s my Melissa. I have never been through more things with one person. But at the same time, I’ve enjoyed each and every moment of it. And he’s a member of my family. Seriously. Never has anyone done as much for me, or been there for me like Tarek Sultani. Yeah, we’ve been adversaries at times (it was a low ratings period…), we always bounced back better than ever. Plus, have you ever had anyone, just 1 month after getting their license, drive 400 miles, in the snow, just to surprise you on your birthday? There’re are tons of other stories, but those are for another day. I just can’t imagine him not being there…

Next, there’s Brett. Brett and I grew up together and used to indulge in the “play date”. Even when we kinda grew up and it was just about comics and Star Trek, they were still play dates. Love him to death, but I feel our friendship is just really starting. Which is a great thing…don’t get me wrong! It’s just it’s on a whole new level now. Anyway, if you want to understand who I was, he’s the one to tell ya. Even if we don’t speak for 20 yrs, we’d always be able to just start back where we ended.

Then, there’s James. Wow, James Lamb. When I first met him, I KNEW he was bound for greatness. I guess it’s why I hitched my wagon to his. Anyway, I had NO idea he’d be as volatile and controversial as he has shown himself to be. Which is AWESOME. there’s never a dull moment around James. But also, he kinda inspires stuff in me. If you ever wanna know my sometimes deplorable views on politics and the world around us, ask James. You guys get my cynicism, but he gets the real deal, and helps me censor it so it sounds nice on the printed page. I think his dark side inspires mine, so if you’re digging for dirt, and all of the thoughts and I ideas I have, but know I shouldn’t, he’s definitely the guy who’s gonna sell me out! He knows the “uncensored” me.

Then, there’s Lip. I never thought we’d be where we are now. He was always “AJ’s friend”. But over the years, including a summer living together, all of that has changed. WAY too much for me to write, but he’s the one who knows the person I want to be. He knows the somewhat lofty goals, and he’s a good pace car to let me know if I’m on track for said goals. Plus, he’s got a good bullshit detector, and a short temper. He’s a hoot to be around when he’s pissed…

Now, this brings me to the question of “Who knows all of my unspoken stuff?” Rather, who knows what I’m thinking without me having to say it. Who can match me word for word, idea for idea, and I can’t stump? It’s not a game to me. It may sound like it, but it’s more about “who just ‘gets’ me?”

22nd Nov2004

Marion Barry and the Gay Bar

by Will

“Watch out, ’cause here I come. It’s been awhile, but I’m back in style!”

Today’s Episode: “Oh No He Didn’t (Oh, YES He Did)!”

A little backstory: I’ve got a couple of friends at H&M who’ve never received “the blog treatment” before. Anyway, Juwan and Bruce are fellow retailers-in-arms, and we tend to have a good time whenever we’re at work together.

So, last night was Bruce’s birthday & he was throwing himself a party at the Banana Cafe. Well, I didn’t really know what to expect, but NOTHING could’ve have prepared me for what the night would bring. NOTHING.

I swear, folks…you’ve read some wacky shit on this site before, but NONE of it holds a candle to this crazy night in SE Washington…

So, a friend and I decided to go together ’cause we didn’t really know where the place was. Let’s see…2 sheltered kids in S.E. DC. I guess we figured they couldn’t kill us both, right? Strength in numbers, and all that jazz…

The party started at 6, but we didn’t roll in until around 10. Bruce was way drunk, bless his heart! He was glad to see us, as he led us inside. Apparently, it was Karaoke Night @ the Banana. So, he leads us up the stairs, and what do we find? A room full of young, Black gay guys. They weren’t all gay, but you couldn’t swing a dead cat in the room without hitting one. Now, when I say this, I don’t mean it in a derogatory sense at all. I say it ’cause I have never seen a room so CHOCK FULL OF BLACK GAY GUYS!!!

I think what struck me, too, was that it wasn’t all stereotype. It wasn’t like the “Men on Film” guys from “In Living Color” (Wow, I’m seriously dating myself here). Instead, it was an array of NBA jerseys and denim jackets. They looked like they were in a G-Unit video or something.

Anyway, my friend and I kinda look at each other; the White Chick & The Straight Guy. We were basically a bad UPN sitcom waiting to happen. But, what the Hell? We’re there to have fun, right? So, we get to the bar and Juwan’s drunk, too. I mean, DRUNK. But it was cute. He was kinda stumbling around. Every so often, he’d yell “Aw, this is my JAM!” and start dancing.

So, we’re drinking our SoCo & Cokes, getting settled, taking it all in. As I look around the room, I kinda start to feel like the last rib at a Black cook-out. There were all these eyes on me, ranging from “What’s he doing here?” to “Where’ve you been all my life, playa?” Now, for you frequent readers, you know that I tend to find myself in these situations ever so often. But this was only the TIP of the iceberg. Let the craziness begin:

A few minutes after we get our drinks, Bruce comes over and whispers, “Y’all will NEVER guess who that is over there!”

I ask who he’s talking about, and he points to a table near the window. Brace yourselves, folks


“That’s Marion Fuckin’ Barry!!!”

I look over and, “Holy shit, that IS Marion Barry!”

Yes, the crack-smoking DC mayor-for-life was sitting right there, about 10 feet from me. For all you uninformed, he’s that guy that Chris Rock loves to make fun of. I swear, he’s been milking that routine for 10 yrs….

Anyway, at the table sat Marion Barry and the cheapest, Sandra Clark imitation hoochie I have ever seen in real-life. This is one of those chicks who was clearly an escort. Not a hooker, but an escort. What’s the difference, you ask? Well, a hooker is someone you just pay for sex, while an escort is someone you pay to be seen with you. She might have sex with ya later, but that’s gonna cost extra.

Also, allow me to say that the good mayor looks like SHIT. I mean, during his recent campaign, there was talk of how bad his health was, but I had no idea it was THIS bad. The poor thing looked WRECKED…

“I’m gonna go say ‘hi’,” I said, as I rushed over to the table. Not really knowing what to say to a world-renowned figure, I offer my hand and say, “Congratulations, sir.” Hell, I didn’t really know WHAT, specifically, I was congratulating him on. Was it his recent election win? Was it his ability to find a woman to come out with him tonight? Was it the mere fact that he’s still alive? Damned if I know. I just figured such a phrase would make him feel good about himself or some shit.

He gave me a limp handshake and kind of mumbled something. I figured it was a pearl of wisdom from a man who’d clearly enjoyed a colorful life and career. “I beg your pardon?” I responded. Once again, he mumbled something. I leaned closer and asked, “What?” The third time, I heard him: “Do I have to go up to the bar, or will they come to the table?” Yup, that’s what the old fool asked me. I kinda stammered: “Uh…they’ll come to the table…..Did you need anything?” Yup, I was gonna buy old Marion a drink, but he just kinda waved me away. Yes, the good mayor and I were about to become enemies…

So, I decided to sing something, while Bruce & Juwan chilled on one of the couches. The first song was “A Song For You”, sung by the Temptations, but better known as a Ray Charles song. Surprisingly, the crowd seemed to like it, or they were just blowing sunshine up my ass.

When I was done, all of us kinda hung out together, the whole time trying to figure out how the Hell we ended up in a gay bar with Marion Barry?!!! But wait kids, there’s more!

It turns out Marion’s skank wanted to sing, too. How to describe her… Well, she was wearing an all black catsuit, with a chain around her waist. She thought she was cute, and Marion seemed proud to have her on his arm. That chick had the audacity to try to sing a Mary J. Blige song, and I don’t think she hit a single note in the song. But she was just smiling and singing like she thought she could sing. Marion decided to get a closer seat, but as I’ve said, he’s a bit out of sorts these days. As he started to sit down, his chair was tipping over and almost spilled him onto the floor. If someone hadn’t caught it from behind, he’d have fallen and I KNOW he wouldn’t have been able to get up! So, he sat there, drinking his drink, watching his girl. A couple of the divas decided to help her out ’cause she just wasn’t doing that song justice. When she finished, Marion smiled and clapped.

The entire time, we’re drunk, off in the corner, asking, “Is that REALLY Marion Barry?!!!’ Juwan would scream out, “Why is he HEEERREE?!!!” Bruce came back over, and I asked if Barry was a regular there. His response: “I ain’t never seen his crack-smokin’ ass around here before!” Barry’s like 4 feet away, mind you. I cringe and say, “He’s right there! He can here you!!!!” Bruce replied, “I don’t care! He knows what he is!”

So, the night continues on, and the drinks keep flowing. I decide to sing another song, but what to sing? Well, I went for the “ringer approach” and chose a song I already knew: This I Promise You (Which, btw, can be downloaded from my music section *wink*). So, I chose my song and signed up on the list.

Turns out, “Catwoman” had signed up for ANOTHER Mary J. song before me. I swear! So, I sat back and watched her butcher yet ANOTHER song, but I also noticed Barry talking to the DJ off to the side. Something nefarious was going on. I think he was trying to arrange for her to sing another song. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna watch THAT happen! You see, I was next on the list, and I wanted to sing my damn song.

I kinda got belligerent at that point. Ask anyone on that couch. “What the fuck is he doing?” I asked. ” I will fight Marion Barry! I ain’t scared of no old Marion Barry!” Sure, I wasn’t screaming at the top of my lungs, but I was vocal. That’s what alcohol does. It’s pure science.

I wanted to sing my song and, I’m sorry, there’s a line! Luckily, he didn’t get in front of me. Bruce swears I wasn’t going to do anything, but I don’t know…considering how surreal the night seemed, I kinda thought it was all a dream by that point anyway!

So, I got up and sang This I Promise You. It probably wasn’t the best venue for such a song; did I mention Black, gay, and S.E. DC?

During the instrumental part of the song, I got a little creative. I said, “This goes out to Bruce, on his birthday. And I also wanna give a shout-out to Marion Barry.” People kinda laughed and/or looked shocked. “What? He’s right here. We all see him!” I said. Did I mention that Marion was like 2 ft away from me? No? Well, he was. Yeah, it was dick of me. But in a drunk, funny way…

I think I got a little too into the song, actually. In fact, I think I might’ve been as off-key as Barry’s girl. Why, you ask? Well, this dude came up from behind me and said, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” OUCH. Back-handed compliments. Thanks, boys…So, I finished that song, and I think only one person clapped.

But the night was about to jump the shark. Just when you thought it was safe, what happens next? Well, I’ll tell ya!

When I get back on the couch, who do i see heading up to the mic? I thought he was lobbying for his girl again, but it was something bigger than that. Something more unexpected. Something monumental. Yes, Marion Barry was gonna SING KARAOKE!!!

I’m about to lose my mind here!!! Am I really seeing this? Is he really who he claims to be?!!! It’s all a blur. And what song did he choose for himself? “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay”, by Otis Redding. Yes, I was about about to watch the tides roll away as Barry butchered a soul classic. We’re falling out of our seats in disbelief! We’re scrounging for camera phones and anything else to immortalize this moment. I yell,”Do you know how much Wonkette would pay for these pictures?!!!”.

He was beyond bad. It’s not that he was tone-deaf..it’s just that he wasn’t listening to the background track. Then, his lady decided to join him for the WORST duet….I can’t even….I’m fuckin’ blown! And to cap it off, you know how the song ends with a whistling solo? He sang it! No, he didn’t whistle it; he SANG IT!!! Words can’t explain…

When he finished, the crowd erupted. I guess we were all in awe of what had just transpired and, as they say in the ‘hood, “Marion was getting his propers”…Some of the guys helped him off of his chair, and after a few more political handshakes, Marion and ‘ho left the building. It was like a mass UFO sighting, though. For the next hr, we were all asking each other, “Did you see that?!!” or “Did that really just happen?” or, my fave, “Fucking Marion Barry?!!” It was like, for that night, we were all brought closer due to our shared ordeal. God bless alcohol and fallen celebrities…

The party wound down, we closed out tabs, and laughed about that shit all the way back to MD. I hope this made some kind of sense in print, but you really had to be there. And I’m sure it’ll never happen again, so you missed out. But from this day forward, children around the world will sing songs of the time Crack-smoking Marion Barry Sang Karaoke in the Gay Bar. And if you ever hear them sing these songs, you just tell ’em my name and that I was there on that fateful day.

Marion Fuckin Barry…

16th Nov2004

Thanks For The Memories, Colin

by Will

And the training continues…

Anyway, just wanted to share something from this week’s issue of The Onion:

“Ashcroft Loses Job To Mexican”


Yes, I know he’s not a Mexican. J9’s gonna be the first to remind me of this. But I still thought it was funny. Meh…

And was ANYONE surprised by the Powell thing? OF COURSE he’s resigning. Hell, he resigned about a year ago, he just didn’t tell anybody. And now, Condaleeza’s gonna take that beaver face of her’s into a new role. I swear, all of W’s friends don’t seem to wanna play anymore…