Category Archives: By Slim Jackson

Look Over Here! It’s Sex! And Funny Stuff!

Seattle: So Slim and I were chillin in the new crib the other day watching South Park, drinking some new age bougie concoction that Slim created and talking sh*t, as usual.

Slim: The bougie concoction is a recipe stolen from a tropical island where I was fanned by exotic women and fed fruits never before seen.

All of a sudden, Slim starts dying. Not dying like the time I was choking on some food and he remained aloof as I begged God for my life and watched the years pass by in front of my eyes, but dying laughing.

I thought you were attempting to exaggerate your laughter. I was wondering why you were slapping the table. I know the joke I made at the time was funny…but not that funny.

Still a bastard. Anyway, it’s a commercial. Probably one of the funniest commercials I’ve seen in a long time.

In usual comedic fashion, we try to one up each other (Slim says Pause). I show him something a friend of mine sent me awhile ago (Shout out to Still Dutty Entertainment). Also quite funny, plus I think it encapsulates the essence of Three Ways To Take It.

So without much more jibber jabber, we present to you “2 Girls 1 Cup”!

Just kidding. 2 (hilarious) videos 1 site. 2+1=3 Ways to Take It

This chick needs more than glasses…

Three Ways To Take It’s Side Gig:

three-ways-side-gig1

Click, download, and view. You will have ab cramps from laughter. Unfortunately, WordPress.com doesn’t let us upload mpeg’s. That’s part of the reason we takin this show elsewhere!

Have a great weekend and use protection (Unless you love each other).

Seattle and Slim

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We Be Hatin’

By Slim Jackson

A couple weeks ago I was out with the fellas at an east coast college. They were opening for a poppin and pizzlin hip hop artist that we all know, and I was there to support and hold my Flip video camera in the air to get some blog-worthy footage. Without going into too much detail, the show was great. I’ve been to a few shows they’ve rocked out at, and it’s been a lot of fun. After seeing them perform in front of primarily white institutions and crowds more heavily sprinkled with Black and Hispanic folk, I’ve come to a crucial conclusion…

White people really know how to have unrestricted fun. Black folks really know how to hate.

Let’s face it. We’re quicker to find fault with other Black folk than we are to give credit and accolade where it’s due. When I’m at these concerts, there are clear demographic differences. I can see the hundreds or thousands of white people throwing their hands in the air and having a good time. I can also see a significant chunk of the small segment of Black and Hispanic people watching first with a critical eye and looking for an excuse to say the show was wack. They’re usually the people with arms folded, staring up at the stage, and consistently whispering in the ear of whoever they came to the show with. Now this isn’t to say that all Black people are naturally haters, but sometimes it’s like something extra needs to be proved before people will just accept the fact that someone is cool, good at what they do, or whatever. This isn’t even a competitive circumstance! Competition? That’s a different story…

Don’t even get me started on how competition increases the hate exponentially. All we need to do is look at a group of women who are all interested in the same dude. Welcome to New Hate City….Welcome to New Hate Citttttayy! We can even look at the dude that’s baggin chicks without any reputable reason. “That negro just be out there munchin box or wearin Greek letters. He wouldn’t be baggin otherwise.” But yeah, we be hatin’. It’s kinda reckless. If people spent as much time looking at themselves as they spent criticizing others who are making moves in the bedroom, the world would be a much happier place. Then again, I guess there will always be crabs in the barrel…I ain’t tryna get pinched though.

Slim “The Plumber” Jackson

Black Republicans

By Slim Jackson

Sorry. This post is not about the Hova and Nas song.

By now, most of us have seen the video clip of the “that black guy” (Pronounced “that one”.) standing up at the McCain-Palin rally and urging Gramps to defeat Obama in the election. To quote the exact verbiage of one James T. Harris: “I am begging you, sir. I am begging you. Take it to him.”

Many Black folks, myself included, heard this same comment as “Massa please. Please massa. Go on and take it to ’em massa.” Now I know he was just supporting the candidate that he wants to win the election, but I was disgusted. This dude had the audacity to stand up in front of that white audience and urge McCain to defeat the Black presidential candidate on national television. I wanted to press block, up, up, high punch and do a Fatality. All I could see was another Black man shucking and jiving on a major stage with strings attached to his arm. What an effin sell out. I really hate Black Republicans.

Okay, so maybe I don’t hate them. I’m sure we have Black Republicans reading this blog. I used to go to school with a homosexual Black Republican that wrote for the most Conservative newspaper on campus. What a oxymoron. He used to act out in class in hopes of getting attention, only to end up hated. But that type of Black Republican is different…because it’s funny. James T. Harris…not funny. It’s interesting though. Had James been at a Barack Obama rally and said this, it would’ve been perfectly fine. It would’ve been just another negro supporting a negro. Neither Blacks nor Whites would’ve thought anything of it. There seems to be this misconception that Black Republican = Sell Out or Shucking and Jivin for the Man. Even with my open mind, I still fall victim to the assumption.

I don’t believe that one’s political affiliation really equates to how one feels about his or her people. I think the issue is all in perception. I am not could be a Black Republican. But even if I was, there are certain opinionated comments that I would never make. My issue is with the uppity ones who say ish like “Black people are lazy. They just need to get off their asses and get a job.” Or something along the lines of “I benefitted from Affirmative Action, but I really didn’t need it and I don’t think the rest of Black America needs it either. People need to stop selling drugs and get a real job and work hard.” Now within these ignorant comments, there are legitimate Republican views. It’s how the person chooses to express them that creates the issue.

How does everybody else feel about Black Republicans in general? Our friend who tried to hug it out with McCain is just one example. I still wanna stick a blade into his Hummer tires. That’s just my opinion though.

Voting for Obama Cuz He Looks Like Me,

Addendum: Check out this video from White Republicans in Ohio. This is what scares me the most about this Race for Race…

Sometimes We Just Gotta Slide Off

**Calls enormous steroid abusing body guards, straps on bullet proof vest, steps into bullet proof bubble and surveys the surroundings . Okay, I think I’m safe**

Why do men cheat?

Yeah, I know. This is a dangerous topic. I’ve seen it covered on other blogs and it never seems to get old. At the request of a few readers, I’m sacrificing myself to the masses to talk about it. Let’s get into it…

We like buns. The end.

Just kidding. We all know dudes with chicks that can’t help but to sample new goods. I’ve heard people argue that “once a cheater, always a cheater”. I disagree. Ill acknowledge that there are people addicted to sex that really can’t help themselves. I’ll also acknowledge that there are dudes who aren’t really happy in their relationships physically, mentally, and/or emotionally that wander elsewhere in hopes of getting what they deserve or desire. They’re bad at picking women and run into the same problem over and over again. This means they stray over and over again. Thus, it appears that “once a cheater, always a cheater”.

But what about the rest of us? Most of the dudes I know with an affinity for buns know better than to get a girlfriend in the first place. If homie knows he’s a hot commodity, he’ll play the field longer than Cal Ripken unless he gets injured (a la she’s pregnant, he gets clapped in the non-violent way, or some other unforseen circumstance like falling in love however unlikely that may be.). I’d say that as men get older, the reasons for cheating change. Aside from loving love canal, things really may be missing from the relationship. This is a different type of cheating. Here are some examples:

Hobby and Interest Support Deficit

Larry is dating Marissa. Marissa nags him all the time. She always has time to be out and about with her girls, but won’t come to any of Larry’s summer league basketball games. Larry meets Tanya, who happens to love basketball and takes an interest in Larry’s life in general. They play a little one on one. Larry shoots and scores in more ways than one. Larry feels bad, but not too bad and Tanya put in some work that must be rewarded. Larry continues to dunk on Tanya which takes stress out of his relationship with Marissa. He’s been with Marissa for a year and doesn’t know if Tanya is moving to Texas so he doesn’t bother to tell Marissa.

Self-Health and Maintenance Deficit

Marquis is a pretty boy. He consistently has girls approaching him. One chick, Latisha, somehow gets him to commit. He keeps being approached by other chicks. Latisha is happy to show him off, but gets comfortable and puts on 15 lbs. in the wrong places. Chicks that now look like what Latisha used to look like keep approaching him. Latisha continues to expand horizontally. Marquis caves under the pressure and decides to explore another cave.

Attention and Physical Appearance Deficit

Johnny lives in Knoxville. Debbie lives in Dallas. Debbie appears to be preoccupied with other things and makes herself scarcely available and refuses to travel. Johnny gets tired of cranking them out solo. He gets some assistance from Ally who liked his swag. Johnny is now relieved and able to tolerate his situation with Debbie. Debbie turns out to be a skeeze and appears on porntube.com without his her permission. Johnny is not as embarrassed since he had already enlisted the services of someone equally as talented.

Now there are other reasons and scenarios that lead men to different water theme parks. The most typical answer to all of this is “Just stop dealing with the significant other. Gosh.” Sometimes it’s really not that simple for men. Call it cowardice, and we’ll call it convenient or necessary. But yeah, it’s not always that we can’t help ourselves because we’re men. There are other factors. What do yall think?

Interpreting the Shady Since 1983,

The Not So Excellent Adventures of Seattle and Slim

Just when we thought racial profiling was limited to Black guys in White neighborhoods at obscure hours of the night and names on job applications, we realized how wrong we were. Forget trying to buy a house. How about trying to find an apartment? You’d think that would be a simple process. Show proof you got a job, have good credit, a good personality, and good references. That should make it easier right? Nope. We’re still Doo-Rag All-Stars.

Y’know Slim, Mos Def’s song Mr. Nigga pretty much rings true right now. I’m going to turn that up while we write.

For more than a week, Seattle and myself have been looking for an apartment. It’s nice to walk around in boxers and a beater in the 1 bedrooom bachelor pad, but we both realized there was a lot of money to be saved (Note: We did not walk around in boxers in the same apartment. We each had our own place. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a pause.) It’s also easier to build our blogging empire if we live in the same place. Again, we do it for the people.

Pause again for the full effect. I said it once and I’ll say it again. I don’t like this guy. I live with him for financial reasons. Period. I don’t want to hear anything about, “Aww that’s cute.” Efff all that. Sacrifices needed to be made for my bank account. Yeah I liked standing in front of my AC with just boxers on sipping on a glass of the finest bougie juice that Whole Foods offers on a hot summer day, but hey, sometimes you can’t have everything. The sexcapades will now be relegated to my room, but… my bad Slim, I digress.

We looked at roughly 15 apartments. Some were too pricey. Some were terrifically priced, but too far away from public transit. Some were bombdiggity, but located above Thai or pizza spots. Can we say roaches, rats, other bugs, and cats? Definitely ain’t tryna call the Orkin Man.

A Russian pizza spot too. Y’all know how I feel about that ish. Plus, the whole spot reeked of chicken pad thai and mystery meat calzones. Hey, don’t forget about the spot that had the “patio”. Y’know the one that was pretty much just an extended step, attached to the backdoor (über pause) that was just two feet off the ground. In other words, easy access for would be hooligans to hop up in our crib and steal what little expensive items we have. Now that I think about it, that was the same spot that had broken glass all on the street. I’m no CSI agent, but where I’m from that means someone either had their iPod on the driver’s seat or a young lady was filled with seed, of any variety, and in turn felt scorned. All it needed were a few broken vials and a condom wrapper to complete the décor.

Anyways, we saw 3 apartments that we really liked. In Boston, it’s easier to work with an apartment broker than conduct an independent campaign for tenancy. First spot we saw with the broker was ideal. Good location, manageable price, and a triple jump away from the subway. We bumped into the landlord on the way out. We made a verbal offer on the unit through the agent. The landlord needed to think about it…for a week. We knew what the deal was. Though we were clean and fresh dressed, he probably figured my beard was too scruffy and I had just lost my job. He may have even thought we were too good for the spot…Riiight. He saw 2 black dudes with 40s, hoez, gold chains, reefer and delinquent payments.

If he were Caucasian, I probably wouldn’t have been surprised. I mean hey, it’s Boston. I know the deal. But dude was Indian. There was no minority alliance here. It didn’t matter that we hit him with our brilliant eloquence and Crest Whitestrip smiles. I could’ve had my Bachelors Degree hanging from my neck and he just would’ve thought I was Flavor Flav. Dude was caught up in the melanin factor. Well the fact that we had more than him. We might as well have been rocking tims, wife beaters and baggy jeans with knots in them.

Our friends tried to be nice and make us feel better, “Well, maybe he wanted to get a better offer?”

Of course we’re angry and assholes, so Slim said…

If you’re a landlord and your apartment doesn’t rent for 2 months and you have good people ready to write a check, what the f*ck are you delaying for?

Oh…

Yeah. Thought so.

Plus we have good credit! I know, I know. I was as surprised as you are.

We eventually found another spot with everything at an even better price. We submitted applications and a deposit. Unfortunately, we met the landlord and his wife while viewing the apartment. 24 hours went by and he “needed more time to review our application” according to the broker. Come to find out he had rejected our applications because we were “fresh out of school”. Fresh out of school? Mofo, I been working for over three years and I speak better English than you do. Seattle’s equally (ahem, if not more) articulate and has worked just as long as I have. Eff you. Eff your wife (twice). Eff your little pet cat that drinks out the toilet. I will sell that sh*t to the General himself.

Wow. Ok Slim. Well, the fresh out of school reason didn’t work for me.  Besides the fact that we’ve both been out of school for a little while now, didn’t the landlord’s wife hesitate to shake your hand?  Yeah…  Also, I probably should’ve told you earlier but I saw the landlord’s face as he was walking out of the apartment. He looked highly surprised and then immediately upset once he saw us. His eyes widened and then quickly tightened up like a, well; you see where I’m going with this. Nonetheless dude, it was for the better. Carrying that monstrosity that you call a couch up those stairs would’ve killed you and I. They would’ve ended up with chalk lines in their apartment without all the accompanying bullet holes. Oh, don’t forget to tell them how the real estate company attempted to steal your money. Yeah, check fraud is not just a Nigerian scam anymore.

Right, Yeah. I almost forgot. When we put the deposit down on the apartment and the people took more than 24 hours to respond, I called the broker and told them to cancel the deal. I left a voicemail and sent an email. I get to work the next day and dude’s boss is on the phone. The conversation went a little something like this:

Slim: Hi, this is Slim.

Boss Broker: Hey Slim. I got a message from my agent that you are bailing out on the deal.

Slim: Yeah, it’s been more than 24 hours and the landlord hasn’t responded to our applications, good credit, and deposit check. We no longer want to live there.

Boss Broker: That’s not how it works buddy. You can’t just break the deal. We ran background checks and everything. Who do you think you are!?!?

Slim: I’m Slim Jackson b*tch. Gimme my money.

Aight, so I didn’t say that. I figured it would be funny though.

Slim: I looked up the laws and spoke to a lawyer about this. The deal isn’t valid until the landlord signs, which he hasn’t.

Boss Broker: You don’t know what the &%% you’re talking about. You are not breaking out of this deal. We’re keeping your deposit as our fee. I’ll see you in small claims court a$$hole.

Slim: Why are you yelling?

Boss Broker: &%% You! *click*

Needless to say, the jr. broker called me apologizing when I threatened legal action via a facsimile. I told him I’d be in that afternoon to pick up my check and that the boss better not be there or he’ll get strangled with my tie.  But yeah, I got the money back and the boss wasn’t there when Angry Black Slim showed up during his lunch break.

After this whole story, some of you might still be thinking that we’ve blown this out of proportion. That we’re just crying racism. That the real reason these landlords were apprehensive to house us is that we’re just two young guys. Well, after all the bull—- that we went through with all those other spots, we found an apartment. In the burbs.  A place where trees grow freely, there aren’t trash cans on every corner and folks ride bikes with their children in tow. Where we say hello to our neighbors in the morning from the porch, while we sip on some bougie brand OJ. Funny thing was, it went amazingly smooth. Y’know why? We never met the landlord face to face. Everything was done over the phone. And with the names, jobs and business phone voices that we have, there was no reason for him to think anything out of the norm. But boy will he be surprised when he comes up to check on the place!

Happily Depreciating the Property Value With Every Breath We Take,

Seattle – I Probably Won’t Let Any Black Folk Move Into My Neighborhood Either – Washington

&

Slim “I’ll Slip Your Wife More Than Mail” Jackson

 

 

Oh yeah, please contact us for an address to send all those lovely housewarming gifts.  L’Chaim! 

Things That Piss Me Off

By Slim Jackson

There are things that make me happy. There are things that make me smile. There are things that make me feel like life is extra peachy and things couldn’t be better. Then there are things that piss me the eff off! Whether I’m walking up the street, sitting on the train, out at a restaurant, or out at a club, there are things that make me wanna shout obscenities or ball up my hand, cock (ultra pause) back my arm, and punch somebody in the throat then ask them to speak to me. The following is a list of things that piss me off. They are in no particular order because they probably piss me off equally. Let the ranting begin…

People using cell phones as a boom box.

I hate when I’m on a bus or train and hear music that isn’t coming from the headphones of someone’s Ipod, Zune, or other musical device. Even if it’s a song that I like, I get equally as pissed off when I look over and see that it’s coming from somebody’s cell phone. This anger is intensified when it’s a young unkempt black guy blasting a song laced with profanities and those in a 10-15 radius are looking appalled. I won’t lie. When I’m in my Altima, I blast these same songs while I’m driving…usually with the windows up because I either have the AC or heat on. But when I’m on public transit or in a very public place, I don’t need to see you nodding your head to your cell phone beyond what’s in your ringtone. I can deal with it for 10 seconds, but not 3 minutes and 45 seconds. Turn that ish off before I punch you in the face have to ask you to turn it off!

N*gga This, N*gga That

This is major problem when I’m on or waiting for public transit. I hate when I’m surrounded by a number of easy-going or professionally dressed white folk and I hear Black or Hispanic folk going nuts with the N-word. There was a time where I was on the subway cringing as the “civil” folks looked to me as if they were quietly saying “That’s your people.” while an ambiguous minority dropped the N-word about 20 times in 60 seconds. As much as I wanted to throw a dagger between the dude’s eyes, I could do little more than act slightly uncomfortable in order to differentiate myself from the ignorant fellow. I nearly got off the train 2 stops early just to get away, but fortunately his stop came up first. When he exited, I took the monkey off my back and placed it on the seat next to me.

Fast Food Drive Thru

They really don’t treat your food the same when they know you’re sitting in your car. If it McDonalds, I get half a thing of fries. I gotta knock on the little glass and ask them to fill it up like I’m in New Jersey getting some gas. If it’s Taco Bell, my Mexican pizza or taco supreme happens to look a little bit sloppier than when I’m in there standing at the counter making sure they don’t do something foul or act haphazardly.

Facebook Statuses Detailing All the Events of One’s Life that Should Be Kept Private

No wonder you’re consistently complaining about being single. I wouldn’t wanna have to deal with you running to your computer every effin time we have a disagreement, or every time your mood changes. If you really want people to ask you what’s wrong, go to an Alcoholics Anonymous group therapy session. You’ll get all the attention you need. I’ve learned more about your relationships and personality via your status and away message updates than he’s probably learned thronxing you snuggling with you at night in real life.

Lack of Driver Acknowledgement When I Wave You Through into Traffic

Mofo, I was nice enough to not block you from getting onto the main road from your one way side street or driveway. The least you can do is quickly put up a hand and maybe a fake smile to acknowledge my good deed. I want to feel good knowing I’ve helped make your life easier, if even only for 2 seconds. When you don’t acknowledge me and speed away, I want my car to turn into a monster truck so it can crush you.

Pedestrians That Think They Are Invincible or Entitled to Cross the Street

Do you want to die? I don’t see a Mario Brothers’ star anywhere. You aren’t flashing colors and I don’t hear any speedy music symbolizing your invincibility. Cars hurt, idiot. You’re lucky I don’t drink and drive usually.

Groupies with College Degrees

You or your parents spent all that money on college, and you’re chasing an effin tour bus? SMH. By the way, did I tell you that I have friends in the music industry? You wanna meet them? Well, everything has a price…

These are just a few things that piss me off. What pisses you off? Keep it clean folks. Don’t make us have to moderate!

Consistently Angry and Always Black,

I Don’t Work Out Cuz I Look Good

By Slim Jackson

As I saw an older and out of shape caucasian fellow jogging up the street very very slowly, I started to laugh and was very tempted to make jokes, then I realized he was doing more to take care of himself than I was…at least for the time being. Aside from realizing I needed to find a new gym, I got to thinking about a somewhat mature question.

At what age do people consider the way someone takes care of their health when considering a significant other?

I’m not talking about physical appearance alone. We all know people with that speedy metabolism, or natural fit look, that do little more than open refrigerator and fast food restaurant doors. I must admit that I’m a hater of these type of folks, not to say I immediately head to Sloppyville when I don’t work out. But seriously, over the course of my lifetime there has only been one chick who ever mentioned that she liked the fact I take care of my health. Granted, she was making this assumption based on a shirtless Facebook picture that was taken immediately after a set of push ups and crunches…but still.

To me, fitness and health is one of the first things I’ll notice about a chick. If she’s naturally slim, she’ll get a bit more Slim slack. But then there are those who look great with all their wholesome thickness, but borderline refuse to work out:

“I mean…I look good. I been holdin it together all these years without working out, so why start now?”

Someone actually said that ish to me. Immediate softness for yours truly. Chances are if I were to take a look at her mommy, I’d get a true indication of what she’d look like in 15-20 years. Fortunately/Unfortunately, I’m too lazy to deal with all that. I’ve tried to figure out why I take it so seriously. Perhaps it’s because of things I’ve experienced with regard to family members. Maybe it’s because I’ve played a sport(s) my whole life. Maybe it’s because I’m scared I’ll sign a contract (pronounced marriage) only to find out that I didn’t read the balloon clause that releases her of all accountability for blowing up behind my wildest nightmares.

Regardless of my banter, I’m curious. At what point do you start to care about how the other person takes care of their health (eating habits, working out, etc.)? Do you even think about it? Do you even take care of your own health or do you expect someone to take care of it for you?

Hoping My Heart Doesn’t Look like the Southeast Expressway at Rush Hour,