In the 1980s people would kill for a Starter jacket. Now we push and shove for Air Jordans. Shit, that’s progress. This is capitalism at work. It costs about $20 to make a pair of Nike sneakers; including equipment, labor, shipping and taxes (Nike’s factory workers are often paid less than $150 per month). Retailers pay double the price of production and then markup the price another 100 percent for sale to consumers. Consumers that are lucky enough to get their hands on an in demand sneaker like the Jordan Concords can markup the price another 200 percent if they want to sell. Ethics aside, as is often the case in capitalism, that was actually an unbelievable return on investment for sale made available to people without access to hedge funds. Push and shove away.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

Jamie Hein, a white landlord in Cincinnati, posted a sign at her duplex’s pool that read “Public Swimming Pool, White Only.” Not only was it bad grammar, but the Ohio Civil Rights Commission ruled it to be in violation of the Ohio Civil Rights Act. Hein’s defense was that a black girl in the duplex had chemicals in her hair that would make the pool “cloudy.”

I’ve had friends with Jheri curls, S-Curls and wet sets (Or should I say “have?” I still know a couple people in the post-activation-not-sure-if-I-should-still-be-this-juicy gray area). I’ve also used copious amounts of Luster’s Pink Moisturizer and maybe I touched up my baby hair with Just For Me No Lye Gentle Relaxer during a down point in my life. But I’ve never experienced a hair chemical that could defeat chlorine. Besides, chances are the black girl had no intention of getting her hair wet anyway. Not to mention the number of chemicals white folks use in their hair: gels, sprays…Jersey Shore pomade!

Hein has appealed the ruling and will have her day in court.

UPDATE; JANUARY 12: The Ohio Civil Rights Commission voted 4-0 against reconsidering its ruling that the sign violated the Ohio Civil Rights Act.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

It’s kind of sad to witness Bishop Eddie’s fall from grace, especially when you see the toll it’s taken on his S-curl. What’s more sad is that his barely legal victims can still smell his cologne. (Maybe he was wearing CK-One?) Even worse off, his wife. Just imagine the embarrassment and guilt she feels for not realizing that Lycra body shirts usually mean “he’s just not that into you,” or any other woman. I can’t believe folks are still going to his church. We are a forgiving people. Unless you cross President Obama. We don’t play that sh*t.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

I tell children who display criminal tendencies (like cheating in video games or stealing their parent’s weed) that crime doesn’t pay unless it’s white collar. And in this case it paid handsomely. A Seattle doctor and his wife bilked the welfare system out of over $100,000 with a simple scheme; the wife pretended she was single and low-income to get Section 8 housing assistance and cash welfare to care for her two children. Turns out her landlord was also her husband and both lived in a $1.2 million dollar house (pictured above). She also received additional funds from Social Security, though it’s unclear if she actually had a little arm like the guy from Three Six Mafia.

The plan worked because the wife used her maiden name and the husband used his office’s address as his home. Well, it worked until he slipped up and put their correct address on a passport application, prior to one of the at least six international trips they took in the past eight years. I imagine you won’t see this story go viral like the black lady with 15 kids who wanted a handout.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

When I was in school I learned the best way to deal with bullies was to show my bravery, by telling my older brother. If that didn’t work I’d use my girl fight technique: put my head down, swing wildly while yelling “you’re not the boss of me” and hope the teacher soon stopped the fight. But bullying has changed over the years. With the internet harassment is often nonstop, even driving some kids to suicide.

If it were up to me I’d create a “Shoot The Bully, Not Yourself” campaign, though I imagine such an initiative would only be popular in a blood hungry state like Texas. Outside of that I have two other proposed solutions. One, encourage bullied kids to focus on their studies and get revenge years later when they’re successful and the bullies are employed as recently paroled cart guys and gals at Target (browsing the Facebook pages of past foes shows me this is often the case). Two, have your son take bully defense classes so he can put an ass whipping on the kid who calls him gay just cause he likes to jump rope and do hair at recess.

Turns out my second proposal is gaining popularity. MSNBC reports bully defense programs are rapidly growing. The programs teach kids to set verbal boundaries and perform martial arts moves perfected in Brazilian favelas. Check out the article if your child is coming home from school with speed knots on his forehead.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

America went in an uproar over a Jackson titty and now Egypt’s going wild over an activist/blogger wearing nothing but panty hose and the Pope’s red shoes. Aliaa Magda Elmahdy posted pictures of herself and a guy playing guitar with his dong out to make a statement against Egypt’s “sexual complexes.” Now the country, both liberals and conservatives, are pissed that she would show more than her eyelids. Hopefully Egypt soon learns that the acceptable way to oppress women is to bombard them with unattainable images of beauty, leaving them with low self-esteem and the willingness to undergo major cosmetic surgery.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

If you use blow you’re one missed paycheck away from using crack. And even though crack will make you a good dancer like Gator in “Jungle Fever,” it will also have you doing things you never thought possible…with your mouth. Plus, The Man looks down on crack, even if The Man himself does blow.

Prior to the Fair Sentencing Act passed by Congress in 2010 there was a 100-to-1 disparity between minimum sentences for crack and powder cocaine users. Now the disparity is 18-t0-1. The good news is that the sentence change is retroactive, freeing an estimated 12,000 former users and sellers. Though the majority of the people being released missed Halloween, and therefore the opportunity to dress as terribly realistic zombies, they will see the outside in the coming days. Also, there’s a chance this program will increase demand for drugs and stimulate the economy. Hopefully not in my neighborhood.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

This year we gave candy to trick-or-treaters and the occasional freeloading parents holding newborn babies. My domestic-partner in-a-not-gay-way wanted to give the chillun’ one piece of candy each. I suggested they take a handful. Why? I don’t want to make them mad. Children today are corrupted by evil forces, namely parents that are too busy posing in the bathroom mirror for mobile phone pics and thus unable to give their little tax credits the guidance they need. So the children end up unruly and perfectly capable of shooting you for any slight, even accidentally stepping on their Air Forces Ones.

In Aiken, Georgia a 10-year-old boy pulled a gun on a 28-year-old woman while trick-or-treating. She joked about taking his candy and he replied, “No, you’re not…bitch.” Well, he didn’t say “bitch” but I’m sure he thought it. The kid had gotten the handgun from his grandfather. Police came to the scene and told the woman not to worry, the clip was not loaded in the gun, though the boy did have the clip in his possession. The child’s only punishment was being turned over to his parents, so I’ll assume he’s white.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

Girls just wanna have fun, right? Well the same goes for 7-year-old boys that wear knee-high diva boots and prefer double-dutch over football. Young Bobby Montoya likes everything little girls like; dolls, dresses, fad diets and hanging out other girls that are less pretty. Unfortunately for him he was born with something that would freak most little girls out: balls.

As a result, the Girl Scouts won’t let him join their elitist organization. To their credit they did issue a statement claiming anyone can join as long as she presents herself as a girl. So all Lil’ fierce Bobby has to do is take the “y” off his name, add an “i” and strut into that Girl Scouts’ office like, “Sign me up, bitches.” Go, Bobby! Oops…Go, Bobbi!

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

Say what you want about Mexico, but they get a few things right. Namely Tostilocos seasoned with lead and the state-mandated cleavage requirement for female newscasters. Now they’ve struck gold again, this time in Mexico City, with pending legislation that would make marriage contracts last two years with the option to renew or dissolve at the end of the “lease” period–without the costliness and litigation associated with a formal divorce. The proposed law makes sense considering half of marriages don’t work out and another 40 percent become “I’m just with yo’ ass ’cause I ain’t nothing better to do” unions.

The powerful Catholic Church of Mexico is against the proposed law as they prefer to maintain traditional Catholic values like marriage for life and encouraging young boys to downward dog stretch before meeting with clergymen in private. However, the marriage “lease” bill will likely become law in liberal Mexico City, a city where men who drench themselves in CK One and practice Beyonce’s single ladies dance before going to the club can get married to each other.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

Every great man has a great woman standing beside him. Though I suppose a great man can also have a great man standing behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. But far too often there are strumpets on the side looking to stir up trouble. Such is the case with Shaquille O’Neal, whom I like to call “The Big Queef,” and his now ex-wife, Shaunie. I’m not one for gossip, but I love hilarity. So let’s just say the marriage ended with this sort of trollop fueled trouble as reported by the Miami New Times:

In a restraining order obtained in Georgia court, 23-year-old Alexis Miller (ed note: a side-chick) claimed that since they had broken up, O’Neal enjoyed calling her and breathing Darth Vader-style into the phone. When she demanded that he identify himself, he would instead mutter in his recognizable basso: “Bitch. Ho.”

The Miami New Times article goes on to detail how Shaq is being extorted by a shady computer nerd/ex-employee/convicted felon. But what’s most interesting is the description of Shaq’s relationship with various police departments. As a volunteer officer and well-known law enforcement supporter, Shaq developed strong relationships with the very people you can never beat and only hope to join: The Law, as brought to you by The Man. This allowed Shaq the leverage to operate above the law and strike back at shady ex-girlfriends and ex-employees by knowingly making false charges (including planting child porn) and sending threats. All this despite Shaq’s association with a number of figures who had crossed The Law, as brought to you by The Man–including Crips in Los Angeles.

Props to Shaq. He’s very, very cunning–though he’s not so good with prank calls. Just goes to show that one of the wisest investments one can make is money and/or time with the fundraising or volunteering arm of your local police force.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

Years ago I almost joined the Nation of Islam. Fortunately my love of pork and white women prevented the initiation. The experience taught me that all religions have elements of craziness. Christianity: The Bible says you can’t wear clothes made of a wool and linen mix. However, Christians leaders like Bishop Eddie Long can wear nipple revealing  Lycra shirts and leave the smell of cologne on innocent young “mens.” Judaism has Kaparot, a ceremony where sins are transferred to a live chicken. Islam? I’m not saying anything. Fox News already makes it look crazy enough.

Hinduism: Just check out the guy, Amar Bharati, above. Though he looks he just shot a fadeaway jumper with a mean follow-through; he’s actually showing love for the Hindu deity Shiva. He’s held this position for 38 years which has left him with a hand like Woody Harrelson’s character in Kingpin, or the guy in Three 6 Mafia with the tiny arm. I imagine Bharati’s wife and three children aren’t too happy with his display of piety considering he dropped them years ago to fulfill his calling. Hold on…isn’t that a sin?

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

Most blacks (besides female readers of bossip.com) have always approved of black-white marriage. But until 1996 most whites–primarily those who dislike blacks because we pronounce words that end in “th” like they end in “f”–were against it. But today, after years and years of white women in college having to sneak into the athletes’ dorm and not being able to bring Sidney Poitier home for dinner (let alone Mandingo), interracial marriage is approved by an overwhelming majority of black and white Americans. So brothas, rejoice and feel proud that you no longer have to say “She ain’t white, she Italian!”

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

I’ve always wondered about prison. Mainly how dudes in the joint get their hair braided. I’m sure most convicts aren’t too keen on sitting between Fleece Johnson’s legs for hours on end. But women’s prisons are even more fascinating. Though some of this fascination is due to a mind corrupted by soft porn on Skinemax, most of it stems from a curiosity of how humanity’s nurturers survive in a place that’s so damn brutal. Well, not too long ago I had the opportunity to find out firsthand.

I went to women’s prison in San Diego called “Los Colinas.” Though it sounds like a bar on the brown side of town that serves micheladas, it’s actually a 750 bed detention facility that holds violent and non-violent offenders. Think of it as a camp for a whole lot of women, most of whom could beat you’re a*s.

I was there as part of my former job, HNIC (Head Negro in Charge) of the health promotion department at a community clinic; one of my duties was to evaluate staff that provided HIV prevention education to the incarcerated. In short, I was looking for an excuse to get my lazy a*s out the office.

Upon entering the prison I was searched from head to toe. Thankfully my bunghole was unmolested; guess I didn’t look like someone who would “boof” drugs or weapons. Though maybe I would for the right price and the right weed. I was then forced to relinquish all valuables, including the wallet that held my Magnum Junior Condom for the Thin and Sleek. So much for that Skinemax fantasy…

To get to the classroom I was led past the glass-enclosed cells. Two women per cell shared a toilet and a space half the size of a gay man’s closet. I hate to make the comparison, but have you been to a zoo and seen an animal that was quarantined in a tiny cage for being himself and going for the throat of a zookeeper? That’s what it was like. Seriously, there are reptiles at your local zoo that have a larger habitat than these incarcerated women. And it was loud. Imagine the annoying, aggravating sound of your girlfriend’s voice multiplied by hundreds. Hopefully we’ll see more Asian women in prison to reduce the noise level.

I finally got to the classroom filled with women. Well, wo-men is a more descriptive term. These chicks were hard. I’m not talking about cute lesbian chicks like my fashion idol Ellen DeGeneres; these were hardcore butch chicks that will swing on you for looking at their women. Don’t get me wrong, there were a few “normal” looking ladies. But many of them looked wise beyond their years, probably due to meth.

The class started and the instructor noted that I was visiting the class to evaluate. The ladies turned around and stared with admiration. I had not had that much attention since I went to an “after-party” in Tijuana where all the ladies smelled like cheap strawberry lotion and introduced themselves by grabbing my schlong. But in the class (and for that matter, the brothel) I got nervous and didn’t know what to say so I just smiled and said to the students, “Thanks for having me.”

The class began and everything ran smoothly, for the most part. A large number of students were like bad kids in an elementary classroom: speaking out of turn, sitting with their legs wide open to air out their monkeys, laughing too damn loud at sex related terms, acting up as a way to cope with a touch-feely uncle who’s scarred them for life, etc. Basically, if you’ve ever wondered where the bad kid from fifth grade is now, and you can’t find him on Facebook—he’s probably in prison doing the same silly s**t.

A few of the women were genuinely interested in the material, or perhaps afraid that the guy who said “Come on baby…just let me put the tip in” could have given them a life-threatening illness. I suspected that these were the prisoners who would easily readjust to society until they find a felony conviction precludes them from getting almost any job on the outside.

Class ended and I waved goodbye to the prisoners. I regained my slim fit Magnum holding wallet and soon left feeling a bit more thankful for my freedom. Weeks later I would hear some of the prisoners wanted me to return. I thought more about them too, especially when I read most where incarcerated for drugs and/or assisting their boyfriends with crimes. Even more had been victims of sexual abuse, prior to prison and by guards while incarcerated. I imagine most of them are still in there; and it ain’t like a Skinemax movie.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

The only thing worse than third degree burns on your neck from Auntie’s hot comb is a weave that’s been neglected like those kids in “Slumdog Millionaire.” And probably cut from the heads of those same kids. So if I were to give African-American women advice, which I probably shouldn’t do since I’m a sellout, I’d say go natural. Free yourself from Just For Me’s no lye gentle relaxer and the media’s biased standard of beauty. Let those curls go free! Just be sure to line up the kukabuds on your neck every now and then.

I’m obviously not alone in my thinking. An online sorority, Pi Nappa Kappa, has been started for black women with natural hair. But unlike most historically black frats and sororities you don’t have to get beaten and brainwashed to join, nor will you suffer from angst after discovering the billions of people outside the college-educated black community neither care nor know about your organization; the one that’s branded on you like cattle/the coolest mental slave on the yard.

Anyway, you sign up for Pi Nappa Kappa online after agreeing to 10 principles. Hopefully they’ll consider letting white women who buy weaves and extensions at mall kiosks join.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

China holds 16% of our debt, created some ingenious fake Apple stores and had their basketball team beat the s**t out of a team from one of our most esteemed universities. But now we’ve got revenge, with free labor as usual. The new MLK Memorial was built by unpaid Chinese laborers brought together by renowned sculptor Lei Yixin to “work for national honor and bring glory to the Chinese people.” Though I’m sure it’s a much better feeling than they get making Nikes, I’m not sure it meshes with MLK’s dream of interracial togetherness (sex) and workers’ rights. Besides, couldn’t the organizers of the project have found American workers to build the memorial? There’s plenty of brown Americans sitting out front of Home Depot looking for work as we speak. I hired a few of them earlier this summer. They moved our whole house in two hours. Literally the whole house. Two short, brown dudes with silver teeth picked it up from the foundation and everything. Damn language gap…

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog   

Elmhurst College will begin asking students their sexual orientation on the admission application. If students say they are a member of the LGBT community they can qualify for a scholarship. No word on the verification process; I assume it involves answering “Glee” trivia and demonstrating the ability to maintain great posture at all times. I’m also thinking black male applicants may be asked for the secret gay password, “mens.”

Of course a scholarship for being gay makes some people upset, mostly the kind of people who ask questions like “How come there’s not a TV station like BET for white people?” But before your panties get in a bunch, note that the scholarship is intended for gay students who face bullying, discrimination and for the next 2-3 weeks the inability to serve openly in the military. Which is uncool and definitely not fabulous.

You can read more about the new policy here. Brace yourself for a number of bigoted and close-minded comments predominately expressed by white males fearful of a changing America.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

Man, America’s bigotry towards Islam is crazy. Rachael Ray, the less sexy version of Oprah, had her Dunkin’ Donuts commercial yanked for wearing a traditional Arab scarf. A serious presidential candidate (Republican Herman Cain, aka Clayton Bigsby) said he would not appoint a Muslim to his cabinet unless he or she takes a loyalty oath. Anti-First Amendment people in 26 states have sued to stop mosques from being built in OUR communities. The term “Muslim” itself has been used to slur President Obama, not to mention the criticism he’s taken for wishing Muslims a happy Ramadan (as did President Bush, ‘cept he didn’t get criticized–pretty much like the whole issue of debt and spending). And now Whole Foods is taking a lot of e-hate for promoting and selling halal foods during Ramadan.

Replace “Muslim” in the paragraph above with any of these terms: black, Jewish, Cablasian, Rick Fox cause I don’t know what he is, gay and fierce, BBW on Craigslist personal ads, dog lovers–and American would be in an uproar. But because we associate the horrific acts of a few people we don’t know with all 1.5 billion members of a particular religion, some of whom we acutally know, our discriminatory beliefs are permissible. And it’s crazy.

Think of this way. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is a Muslim. Very tall, yes. Dangerous, nope. The man starred in “Naked Gun,” did movies with Bruce Lee and writes history books! American hero Muhammad Ali is a Muslim too. Good with his hands during his time, yes. Dangerous outside the ring, nope. He has the shakes, but that’s due to Parkinson’s disease–not because he’s nervous about committing a suicide bombing. Ahmad Rashad, cool TV host…used to mack on chicks with Michael Jordan. Kind of corny, yes. But dangerous or involved in terrorism…come on, man! And 99.99 percent of Muslims in America are no different. In fact, they’re not much different than other Americans, except they’re picky eaters and Islamic women only get buckwild in the private.

Anyway, stop the hate!

“Kindness is a mark of faith, and whoever is not kind has no faith.” (Islamic proverb)

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

Some illnesses are hilarious—for example, monkeypox. As we saw during the outbreak of 2003 it’s like chickenpox except it makes people do crazy s**t, like throw feces and bite their handlers. Rickets…even funnier. Nothing more hilarious than seeing old bowlegged men. Step your vitamin D game up, son! But HIV is not so funny. Like other diseases that are known by acronyms (BBS: Bashful Bladder Syndrome); HIV is a very serious matter.

A few years back I went to the campus clinic because my face was turning white. I thought to ride it out and do whites only things like hitchhike or become a contestant on “The Bachelorette,” but I didn’t want to lose the ability to say “n**ga” while rapping along to all the hits from Cash Money Records. My doctor, a monotone and seemingly bored man, diagnosed me with tinea versicolor (TV). He said TV is a yeast-based fungal infection that changes your pigment production. In short, I pretty much had a yeast infection on my face. That’s hot.

But then the doctor started making cryptic statements. He said, “I’ve never seen tinea cover someone’s entire face.” He added, “We need to see why your immune system is not fighting off the fungus. I’ll have to run a test of your white blood count.”

I got a little nervous, but considering I live by the mantra of “I don’t get sick, I get even” I wasn’t too worried. Plus I’m a friggin’ stud emotionally and figured I can deal with whatever comes my way, except for dealing with the self-anguish that results from my inability to whistle.

The doctor called about a week later and said “Your white blood cell count is extremely low.” And then he hit me with the killer “You should come in for a confidential HIV test.”

That hit me hard. First thought: “This punk ass doctor really just told me this on the phone. HIV is fighting words!” I mean, come on. Tell me to get an HIV test to my face…so I can have someone to hug when I get week in the knees. Then I tried to respond coherently, but the devastation made me speak in slave talk, “Do yous o’fen see this here illness on campus” or something like that. He replied, “Around one percent of the people we test at the clinic are positive.” S**t. I agreed to come in for a test.

But first I needed someone to talk to. My girlfriend at the time, who suffered from an illness called celibacy, was out the question for the time being. So I called my best friend, who said “Don’t worry, man.” But he didn’t give me a reason not to worry. So I worried more. Hours later I called my dad. He remained levelheaded and said “Worse case you just have to take the meds and deal with it. Magic Johnson’s doing fine.” But then he threw some HIV humor, “You just gotta get that Magic Johnson money!” Damn, Dad.

Since I had beef with my campus doctor I decided to go to a community clinic for the test. These were the days before the 20 minute confidential HIV test was popular, so I had to wait five days for the results. I waited longer than five days, went to Cleveland for Christmas vacation and could not bring myself to get the results when I returned to San Diego.

But I was unable stop thinking about HIV. I spent hours online reading up on the disease and freaked out when I discovered black men have the highest HIV infection rate of any group. I thought to myself “I wonder if my chances are lower ‘cause I’m light skin-ded.” Nah, bruh. Then I read about high-risk behaviors like butt sex, IV drug use and unprotected vaginal sex. I figured, “Well, I’m kind of metrosexual and one of my goals in life is to be sexy like Rod Stewart, but I’ve never engaged in any homosexual acts, or hetero anal (woah!). And you can’t inject marijuana. As for participating in unprotected vaginal sex…oops, but for most of my adult life I did tend to wear condoms on weekdays.”

All the thinking drove me crazy. I was stressed out and unable to eat much. An ex-flame even joked, “You got skinny, Dewan. Better get that AIDS test.” I thought to myself, “Laugh now, cry later b***h.”

I finally gave in and went to a different clinic that offered the 20 minutes of hell test. The HIV counselor, a flamboyant and hefty gay dude, asked questions about my sexual history. Then he put the thing in my mouth. No Amaechi. I mean he put the swab in my mouth and then placed it in a bag and took it away. He returned and told me the results. NEGATIVE.

I was pumped as hell and wanted to hug the guy. But at the time I was foolishly uncomfortable around gays and thought he might want my anal virginity. So I shook his hand, a really strong manly shake too, and left. Then I called my people when I got back into the car and bragged like I just got a new job. “Negative! I knew I was fine!”

I drove off and thought to myself, “All this stress is crazy. I need to go out and have some sex.”

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog 

I’d like to go upside Lupe’s head for this statement, but he knows black militant taekwondo–so I’ll express myself behind the safety of my computer screen.  In an interview with a CBS affiliate Lupe says the following:

“In my fight against terrorism, to me, the biggest terrorist is Obama in the United States of America. For me, I’m trying to fight the terrorism that’s actually causing the other forms of terrorism. The root cause of the terrorism is the stuff that you as a government allow to happen and the foreign policies that we have in place in different countries that inspire people to become terrorists. And it’s easy for us because it’s really just some oil, which we can really get on our own. I don’t vote. I don’t get involved in the political process because it’s meaningless, to be honest.”

I know Lupe’s a busy man, evidently too busy to have a detailed look at history or even read a website not based on conspiracy theories. But the view that U.S. actions in the Muslim World are solely based on oil is at best simplistic. How do you explain our intervention in Bosnia which saved millions of Muslims? Or Afghanistan? Have you put any Afghan oil in your car recently! Or even Libya? Or how about the millions of Muslims and Middle Easterners granted amnesty by the United States when their lives were at risk under dictatorships?

And then Lupe goes on to say “I don’t vote.” Well then, shut the hell up. Remember the Rock the Vote campaign from a couple of elections ago? Let’s make a new one in honor of Lupe for 2012. This time let’s call it Vote! Or shut the fuck up! It’s meaningless to say voting is meaningless. Voting got the right people in office to pass the Civil Rights Act. Voting got the right people in office to uphold Lupe’s right to make asshole comments without fear of legal retribution. Voting made a man of color president for the first time in the history of the entire Western world.

Another smart-dummy…though I must admit I did see him in concert a few years. Lupe’s band was great and the show was worth the $25. But now Lupe gets a NEGRO PLEASE! Band or no band.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

Please, please stop with all the slavery references. You’re not a slave, not even an indentured servant. Shit, you’re not even an hourly wage worker! Offender #1: Football player Adrian Peterson. That fool compared life in the NFL to “modern day slavery.” Adrian runs for touchdowns, slaves ran for freedom–with one foot. Adrian arrives to work in a luxury car or private jet. Slaves arrived to “work” on a disease infested ship surrounding by a black man’s biggest fears—water and white men with guns.

Offender #2: Senator Rand Paul. The states’ rights loving and anti-Civil Rights Act senator from Kentucky compared the right to healthcare to slavery. His words were, “With regard to the idea whether or not you have a right to health care you have to realize what that implies. I am a physician. You have a right to come to my house and conscript me. It means you believe in slavery. You are going to enslave not only me but the janitor at my hospital, the person who cleans my office, the assistants, the nurses. … You are basically saying you believe in slavery…”

As a doctor, Senator Paul took an oath to “apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required.” The oath does NOT read “apply, for the benefit of the sick that have employer paid health insurance that’s increasingly rare among middle class workers, all measures that are required.” Besides, why become a doctor if you don’t want to help people? I admit, I enjoy examining myself on occasion (with cocoa butter lotion heated up in the microwave for 13 seconds), but a doctor is here to treat others. And “others” is very general to include prisoners, the insured, the uninsured, the indigent…everyone!

Bottom line, unless you’re being forced to prostitute yourself by a scandalous coyote in Tijuana who promised to get you across the U.S. border, or you’re a West African child laborer working 18 hours a day to produce cocoa so westerners can enjoy an inexpensive Nestle Crunch bar, you’re definitely not a slave. Though you are free to say that.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

Damn, talk about stop snitching. Mohammad Basardah, an inmate at Guantanamo Bay (One of America’s anti-American homoerotic torture chambers) was freed after ratting on 123 other prisoners. Sounds great, right? No. Turns out the much of the information was false and perhaps resulted in the wrongful prosecution of innocents. Read the story here.

And just to clarify, despite what the “ignants” say…simply telling the police or other authorities about a crime you witness or have knowledge of is NOT snitching. It’s doing the right thing for others and your community so you don’t fuck up the value of my soon to be purchased property. Besides, you’d want someone to tell if your family, self or property was victimized. And no-no-no, despite how tough you think you are after listening to Young Jeezy you probably wouldn’t take the law in your own hands. Why continue the cycle? Like Master P incoherently said, “You kill me/I kill you/My partnas kill ya partnas.”

However, participating in a crime and telling on others to lessen your punishment cannot be looked up fondly; a shanking or beating via tube sock filled with battery is somewhat understandable under those circumstances. But what do I know. I’m just a suburban kid that grew up at least three streets away from the hood.

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

I kind of miss the old school racism that I saw while growing up in Columbus,Ohio and to a lesser extent Cleveland. A bigot would say “nigger” and you knew where he stood. But this covert racism is tricky. A covert bigot might follow me around a store and then say, “Oh, just seeing if you needed some help.” A covert bigot won’t let me into a club because my SKINNY jeans are too baggy (That’s not a typo, this happened to me in Pacific Beach, San Diego.) And of course, a covert bigot will ignore overwhelming evidence and insist our first biracial-black president is not an American and therefore an illegitimate president. Get it! Illegitimate as in able to overthrown with force. Do us all favor and just say, “I don’t like this nigger!”

Dewan Gibson: The Imperfect Blog

There’s been a lot of recent talk regarding U.S. deficits. But you can’t put most of the blame on our Kenyan president who at birth was given the responsibility to secretly work with the Saudis to implement an Islamic caliphate in the United States. In fact, much more credit should go to George W. Bush The Great, who was noble enough to lower taxes on needy millionaires, blow shit up in the most tumultuous region of the world and amazingly implement Medicare Part D for free! All of which led to great economic growth that created negative 2.6 million jobs. Damn I miss him. Read the full article on U.S. deficits and of course feel free to verify the facts with the media source of your choosing. Graph on recent job growth is below.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

European romanticism is dead. Long gone are the days when you could wander aimlessly around the continent, get an STD and a warm bed in a hostel and feel accepted regardless of race or religion. It’s now a stodgy and xenophobic place guided by tea party like principles. France outlawed the wearing of the burqa and they now frown upon women going topless on public beaches. Yep, no public titties in France. The Netherlands is just as bad. You’re still free to smoke cannabis and sacrifice your dignity by having sex with an overly perfumed “hoer,” but don’t stay too long cause they require Dutch fluency to gain citizenship, along with a host of other measures aimed at reducing Muslim integration. Denmark and Sweden have followed suit; if I was paid to write blogs I’d go into more detail about far-right extremism in Europe. Until then, check out this article in Time and the video above. Shit, Canada here I come!

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

In this photo from Time Colonel Gaddafi looks very “Dictator Chic” in his all-brown-everything outfit. He’s not a trend-setting fashion misfit like Kim Jong-il but you have to respect his sense of elegance and air of Pan-Africanism. Plus Gaddafi gets additional style points for hiring a posse of female bodyguards and organizing “sex for answers” interviews with international journalists. Too bad he lost all cool points by refusing democratic reforms, blowing an airplane full of innocents, crushing rebels and busting a nut that gave life to a douche bag son, Saif. The countdown has begun. An all-expense paid exile to Venezuela ain’t so bad.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

The media’s going crazy over new U.S. Census results that shows there are 50 million Hispanics in the country. The population is even growing in places like South Carolina (Latino population there grew 147% in 10 years), where they used to hang Negroes for sport and still hang a Confederate flag just to let you know they’re capable of doing that shit again, if it comes to that.

So what does this population growth mean for the U.S.? Well, for one…the good dancer stereotype will grow to include blacks AND Hispanics. Politicians will either 1) Look to outreach to Latinos through largely symbolic efforts and probably fail to pass comprehensive immigration reform (unless Hispanics vote more, only 49.9% participated in the 2008 election) 2) Do some dumb shit like Sharon Angle did last year in Nevada while running for the senate, when she ran a commercial showing Hispanics intimidating recent white high school graduates and presumably stealing their college tuition funds.

But how about the rest of us? What does Hispanic population growth mean for the average dude? Not much…probably a wider selection of good-looking women, and men that wear their shirts with three buttons open (If you’re into that, no Amaechi). MTV will probably create a show called Mi Dulce Quinceanera (I don’t speak Spanish, I’m sure that’s wrong…don’t correct me) to air before or after My Sweet Sixteen. And fake ass Mexican food places like Taco Bell will lose business to restaurants that make the real shit, stay open 24 hours and number each restaurant location (Alberto’s #1, Alberto’s #2, Alberto’s #65…yep, I’ve seen it).

Anyway, I’m sure we’ll all adjust to the new, more colorful America. If not, you can always run across the border in search of a more prosperous and enjoyable life.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

One of the men in the pictured above, DeMaurice Smith, is a lawyer and president of the National Football League’s Players’ Association and largely responsible for ensuring there’s a 2011-2012 football season. The other man in the picture, Bryan “Baby” Williams, is responsible for managing a record label and crafting witty, homo-erotic rhymes like, “I like to fuck ‘em in the ass while he beat up the pussy” (Big Tymers, 2000, “#1Stunna”). Guess who your kids admire most?

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

There’s been a number of strange reactions to the tsunami in Japan. Perhaps Americans see the Japanese as easy targets for jokes because of their supposed passive disposition and lack of political leadership in the States. If you talk shit about blacks–watch out for Al Sharpton and his hair and speaking fees, talk shit about Jews–AIPAC will ride on your punk ass, Latinos–La Raza will hit you on the chin and George Lopez will finish you off with a joke below the belt, white people–ah…they have the quiet confidence of knowing that they run shit and tend not get offended as a group (though groups like the tea party let everyone know they can “take the country back” if people of color get out of line and start asking for health care, income equality and shit like that). As for the Japanese…I don’t know. Whose wrath do you fear if you talk badly about the Japanese? An ex-Yakuza member that’s come to the U.S. to join forces with the Bloods? Your favorite bukkake actress? Baseball most fashionable all-star, Ichiro Suzuki?

Well, how about Aflac. The insurance company does 75% of its business in Japan and just fired comedian Gilbert Gottfried as voice of the Aflac duck for making inappropriate jokes about the tsunami (the tweets above). But I don’t think Aflac should stop there. Go after 50 Cent for his jokes about saving “hoes” in Japan (damn his ass can’t spell), WNBA player Cappie Pondexter for saying the quake was payback for Pearl Harbor (Well I can only imagine what we have coming to us for dropping an atomic bomb on Japan) and various Facebook users for posting a viral status update that says the end of days are here and Jesus will soon return because of 9/11, Haiti’s earthquake on January 11th and Japan’s tsunami on March 11th (talk about ig’nant…Haiti’s earthquake was actually on January 12. By “return of Jesus” I assume they mean a Latino baseball player returning for the upcoming Major League Baseball season.)

Let Japan heal, man.

UPDATE: Now there’s this sentiment on the Internet that American should mind its own business and not give money and assistance to the Japanese. Ex: On Facebook someone’s post read, “I wonder if Japan gave a fuck when Katrina hit.” Others chimed in with “We need to stop being everyone’s baby daddy!” Yeah, caught me off-guard too. My answer went, “They DID give a fuck about Katrina. Japanese people gave over 1.5 mill in personal donations, government gave over 1 mill in cash and supplies, Honda alone (Japanese company) gave over 5 million, etc. This was all right after Katrina in 2005, other donations came later during rebuilding. Search America.gov. Same goes for Haiti, they gave a helluva lot. Japan’s actually a more generous country than the U.S. when you look at foreign aid as % of GDP. Good people…”

Which leads me to another point…the U.S. is actually dead last in percentage of foreign aid as GDP. Though our private citizens are generous, our government likes to blow shit up and then help out. Here are the rankings from the Gates Foundation: http://www.gatesfoundation.org/annual-letter/2010/Pages/rich-countries-foreign-aid.aspx

Peace. I’m going to chill out and watch a fuckin’ Geico commercial, with a Japanese duck…

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Yesterday I posted a tweet that read, “Gaddafi owes me gas money.” I followed up with “Pump and run! It’s not just for deadbeat dads.” Shortly after I had a new follower: crappydads.com. I went to the site and found that it’s sort of like “Perverted Justice” for dudes that would rather buy barbed wire tattoos and video games than pay child support. The site’s content is user generated with short descriptions of how sorry ass men are neglecting their children. Children that may one day become unruly and walk slowly across the street despite oncoming traffic and give you the finger if you beep at them. Speaking of the finger, if a guy’s over 25 and he still takes pictures with his middle finger up…he might be a deadbeat, or at least have the deadbeat gene and be prone to saying shit like, “That baby ain’t mine! He ain’t even got my swag!” (The guy pictured above is from crappydads.com.) Choose wisely, ladies.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I’m trying my best to continue to like LeBron. I stood up for him when he stunk up the joint against Boston in last year’s playoffs. I’ve come to understand why he left Cleveland. I defended him against the “Whore of Akron” taunts from Esquire writer Scott Raab. And I complimented him on his fashion selections; he’s straight out of GQ Zamunda.

But the man’s just too sensitive. He has the same level of emotional maturity that I did in the 7th grade when Tamara “Bubba” Davis almost made me cry by saying I smelled like fish after I returned to school from an at home lunch of…fish. Case in point: Just this weekend LeBron heard that former teammate Boobie Gibson said he’s the new “King of Cleveland” during a toast at his birthday. LeBron took to Twitter to voice his frustration, Boobie (sounding somewhat mature for a man named “Boobie”) responded.

If I’m an NBA superstar, I’m too busy to worry about what a former teammate is saying at HIS party. Shit, I’d have business to handle and threesomes to consummate. But LeBron has time to add media haters to his “list,” disparage the Cavs after a record setting loss to the Lakers with claims of Karma and worry about what someone else is saying at some small ass club in Cleveland.

I guess I should be careful what I write…LeBron’s watching.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Public Enemy brought black power and conscious lyrics to the masses. In the late 80s and early 90s everyone wanted to wear African medallions made in China and yell “Don’t believe the hype!” Though most of us weren’t well-versed on hype such as Reaganomics and Iran-Contra (well, we liked the Contra video game”), the shit sounded good.

But evidently Black Power doesn’t pay the bills. So Public Enemy hypeman Flavor Flav is set to open a fried chicken franchise and liquor line. I’m sure black elites who referred to Flav as a coon and secretly watched his Flavor of Love show will be upset over this move. And they’ll probably be upset that I didn’t capitalize “black” in the preceding sentence. The hell with them.

Flavor has (a lot 0f) kids to raise. Plus the black people-fried chicken stereotype is just that, a stereotype. Shit, I haven’t met anyone who doesn’t like fried chicken–regardless of race. Though everyone might not make love to a chicken bone like I did in the picture above…there’s a reason KFCs are everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Flav knows this, which is why he’s opening his chicken shack in Clinton, Iowa; a city that’s over 90 percent white. (See, I also didn’t capitalize “white.”)

As for the liquor…that’s debatable. But my parents also sell it, so I get where Flav’s coming from. Actually I wouldn’t mind selling liquor. In fact, I’d wear a Jheri curl wig, shuck and jive and speak in “slave” while selling malt liquor if that’s what I needed to do to feed my chillun’. There’s a lot worse that one could sell, like cigarettes or crack. Now that’s some coon shit.

You can read more about Flav’s chicken and liquor on Hiphopdx.

Dewan Gibson: Download My Book, The Imperfect Enjoyment

I love TJ. For those outside of Southern California I’m not talking about a hulking man with big meat who wears leather chaps and a baby tee. I’m talking about Tijuana; T.J. as it’s known in my hood. Though the city gets a bad rap it’s not just a place to get cheap prescription meds, prostitutes that smell like Victoria Secret’s Warm Vanilla Sugar bodyspray, street tacos, a good ol’ fashion PO-lice beating, Chiclets from orphans and harassment from the oft-overzealous U.S. Border Patrol.

It’s actually a great city full of colorful, kind people that’s been castigated in the midst of Mexico’s drug war. A war instigated by America’s demand for illegal drugs and supply of automatic weapons and Mexico’s corrupt elite. (chuuch!) Well, enough of the politics. Have a look at the pics from a wedding I attended in Tijuana courtesy of a dear friend. Feel free to play “Spot the tall, awkward black guy with the tight silver vest and shiny ass forehead” in the picture above!

Dewan Gibson: Download My Book, The Imperfect Enjoyment

This is Not the Detroit Hustle

About to do the Splits To Catch A Garter Belt

Anyone up for a dry hump?

Still Can't Do the Damn Dance

Dewan Gibson: Download My Book, The Imperfect Enjoyment

The media’s going crazy over Ted Williams, the Man with the Golden Voice. As I’m sure you heard he went from selling his ass for crack to narrating commercials for Kraft. Now the search is on for the next talented person that’s sleeping in his own filth in freezing temperatures. I guess there’s something the media really loves about a nigga that just keeps on performing despite the circumstances. No roof over your head? Nigga just sing! Haven’t eaten in two days because no one finds your cardboard help sign funny? Nigga better show some talent! Worried that you can’t access healthcare because  a large part of the American public feels more sympathy for homeless dogs than homeless people? You better get yo’ black ass up and Moonwalk down 55th and Euclid! Is you toilet actually a puddle filled pothole behind a 7-11? Well I hope you can sing some ol’ time Negro spirituals! Check out the video below…”good job, Tisha.”

Dewan Gibson: Download My Book, The Imperfect Enjoyment

Censorship is a bitch. When Comedy Central shows Chris Rock’s Bring The Pain, I want to hear “muthafucka” loud and clear. “Mutha” followed by a beeping sound is a disservice to the art of a well-articulated “muthafucka,” muthafucka. If a 14 year old boy in Cuba wants to log on to Facebook and trick a lonely single mother in Hell, Michigan (yes, it’s a real town) that he’s a 22 year old Latino hunk in need of a couple dollars and a titty flash, Fidel’s grumpy ass shouldn’t stop him. And if Mark Twain wrote “nigger” in 1884′s Huckleberry Finn, subsequent editions of the book should say “nigger.”

One more thing, let’s stop messing with dead people’s art. Did you hear that new Michael Jackson CD? Shit sounds like something Jermaine Jackson would make. Not cool ass 1980s Jermaine, but today’s conk-head, can’t pay child-support for his son Jermajesty, dipped in Vaseline, sprayed with Crisco and marinated in olive oil Jermaine. Michael would’ve never released that CD! And the same goes for any Tupac CD released after Makaveli or any Biggie CD after Life After Death. Damn…first ‘Pac, then BIG and now Mark Twain. These niggas done gone crazy!

Dewan Gibson: Download My Book, The Imperfect Enjoyment

I’ve have a fairly good relationship with the PO-lice, aka The Law. In the seventh grade The Law was extremely polite while wrongly accusing me of stealing and forcing me down to my knees (that’s what she USED to say, back in my wild days…hold on, no she didn’t) with my hands behind my head as they searched my prepubescent  loins. In Grade 12, after once again being wrongly accused of stealing–I have shifty eyes–a hulking PO-liceman pushed me up against his cruiser and kindly said, “You run, I’ll beat the shit out of you.” How eloquent!

Despite the love/not much love in return relationship, if some shit ever goes down I’m calling the law. By “shit goes down” I mean if I get roughed up by a woman or have my curls molested by somebody that don’t even know me like that. But seriously, the crew cuts dudes have tough jobs. Cut ‘em some slack. You know the saying, “One burnt gizzard doesn’t spoil the bunch.”

Interestingly enough I’ve had a couple-few former students that are cops, or in training to become cops. One in particular, “El Blanco Mexicano,” has been kind enough to write a guest blog titled, “Avoid a Rodney King: What NOT To Do When Stopped by the Fuzz.” Check it out:

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Avoid a Rodney King: What NOT To Do When Stopped by the Fuzz

My fellow enjoyers of the imperfectness, it has been much too long since I have spoken with you! I know what you are all thinking, “oh great, here comes this white Mexican again to speak some nonsense!” Well…you’re WRONG! TODAY my friends, I will actually use my almost-graduated-from-college brain and share some important and useful information with all of you!

So I ask you this…what is the one thing someone who is not a middle-class-white-boy should fear? If you answered rejection from a state university, you are incorrect. It’s the POLICE son! But in all seriousness there is only partial truth to what I am saying, the truth is that no one should fear or need to be afraid of a police officer or deputy sheriff. So, in today’s guest blog…I’m gonna give you 10 tips to assist you in making police contacts more pleasant for both parties. Working in law enforcement here in San Diego, I see a side that most regular citizens do not see. Here are the top 10 things to NOT do when contacted by the police in no particular order, with a few stories of my own to go with it.

1. Don’t Reach: NEVER… I repeat NEVER… reach into your pockets when approached by an officer. Police officers are trained that the hands are the most important thing to watch and if you hide them, chances are the officer will get a little suspicious and heighten his alert level. People always ask me “yo, how can I get my wallet if you don’t want my hands in my pocket?!” its easy brotha…just ask me. Asking your officer if it is ok to reach into your pocket to grab your wallet will make things much smoother in the end. One time I had this kid who we had taken out of a house from a high school party noise complaint and while he was sitting down he kept reaching into his pockets. After repeated times of telling him to keep his hands visible he seemed to think it was funny and started playing the “see how many times I can make them tell me not to do it anymore game.” This of course ended with him going to juvenile hall for being drunk in public rather than just going home with his parents like the 30 other kids at the party…I win!

2. Don’t Lie: I know when you were all little chill’n your momma told you honesty was the best policy…unless its about not finishing homework then you say your dog ate that shit! But she was absolutely correct, when it comes to dealing with the fuzz…just be honest. If you got a cigga-weed in your car and they ask you if you have anything illegal…just tell them. If you got a baggie of crack or heroin or some gangster shit like that in ur pocket…declare it. And honestly dude….you KNOW you rolled that stop sign, I wasn’t born yesterday. Once, after finding a bag of meth in a dudes front pocket of his shorts, I heard the excuse “these aren’t my shorts man!” for the first time….really dude?

3. Don’t Keep Driving: For some reason, the public is under the assumption that they have the right to pull over when they feel they are ready to pull over…wrong. When those red and blue lights go on, that’s the officer saying “hey, go ahead and pull over” Officers are trained to not initiate stops until the conditions are safe for the driver. For example, if there isn’t a place to pull over safely, I’m gonna wait until there is somewhere to do so until I put my lights on to avoid confusing you.

4. Don’t Make Sudden Movements: When pulled over, don’t reach for your paperwork until asked. Turn your overhead light on and put your hands on the steering wheel. The officer will tell you what to do when he wants you to do it. You may be nervous…but you gotta show swagga! Pretend like you got a supa fly chick in the passenger seat…she don’t wanna see her man actin like a little bitch…just chill!

5. Don’t Ask Questions: WE will ask the questions…not you. You asking questions (unless I ask you if you have any) shows me that you believe you are in control of the encounter, and you aren’t. When pulled over don’t say the cliché “can I ask you why you stopped me” question. Contrary to popular belief…I WILL tell you why you have been stopped. This applies especially if you don’t wanna get a ticket…because it really irritates officers. This also includes your passengers, just politely remind the brotha that “you got dis” and keep him from speaking….

6. Don’t Give Attitude: nothing is going to turn me from friendly police man doing his job to asshole cop in less time than you being a smart ass or having an attitude. I understand you are bothered by my presence, but I have a job to do…and you complaining doesn’t make it easier. Again, this goes along with passengers in your car, keep them quiet. Don’t do any of the following: Roll your eyes, raise your voice, laugh like I’m joking, slam your door, etc. Just go with the flow…I have to. Once while working a DUI checkpoint I asked the driver if they had anything illegal in the car I needed to know about, to which the driver (an angry older man) said “oh come on” followed by his daughter in the passenger seat leaning over and saying “yes, we have everything illegal in the car”…bitch what? In response I said in my calmest voice “oh ok then, awesome, if that’s the case why don’t we all step out of the car and have a seat in the back of mine while I tear your car apart?”Rule number one…I can…and will, make your night suck if you do the same to me.

7. Don’t refuse to sign the ticket: even IF you feel you have been wronged (which is sometimes true, officers do make mistakes) don’t refuse to sign the little red box on the ticket. This is a one way ticket (no pun intended) to the slammer! And trust me, you don’t wanna spend a night with big bubba from cell block 3A just because you didn’t believe your registration was expired. Sign the damn thing, and get on with your day…you can argue your point in court.

8. Don’t Bribe Me: As much as I could use an extra 20 bucks, I’m not gonna lose my job over it. Telling me you will give me money or (for the ladies) give me some “favors” to get out of a ticket won’t work. It will just turn your minor encounter with the police into an arrest. Back at the ladies tho…you can call me off duty… holla

9. Don’t Resist Detainment: If I ask you to put your hands behind your back, its for a good reason. Put trust in me as a public worker that I am not going to violate your rights and im not here to be an asshole. Don’t pull away from me or smack my hands or walk away from me, chances are it won’t end well. I once had a younger female smack my partners hand as he tried to grab her arm and detin her, can you say tazer? My favorite quote of advice on this subject comes from an anti-police blog about how to help keep oneself out of trouble. It says “touching the officer in any way can lead to a batton in the mouth.” What are we? The Gestapo? I aint tryin to end up on fox 5 in a repeat Rodney King case, don’t make me fight.

10. Don’t Talk On The Phone: When I’m talking to you, don’t ask to answer a phone call…I may work a 12.5 hour shift, but I don’t have time to sit there and wait for you to tell the homies that Johnny Law is trying to take your chips (you know you aint got shit). Also, please put your cigarettes out…I don’t wanna smell that crap dude.

Well, there is my list, it may be a little long, but it will prove very useful when you are on your way to the club and you cant miss the no cover time slot! And, it will show the lady friends that you are as calm as a mid day breeze…and you can ask baby D on this one…NOTHING scores the ladies like a man who is as calm as a mid day breeze….they eat that shit UP son!

Hopefully this was as useful for you as I hoped it would be….if you are a fan of the Imperfect Enjoyment as I am, I don’t want you getting harassed by my brothers in blue! Just tell em Slick Skinny D Gibson sent you.

-El Blanco Mexicano

It’s hard being a light skin black man with good curly hair. Hold on, let me explain what I meant by good hair before I got scared and put a strike through the word. If combing your shit brings tears to your eyes that’s not a positive or good thing. But! Good hair does not mean hair that is less kinky. Example: If you wear a natural and have freed yourself from oppressive hot-combs and crying while combing that’s a positive and good thing. So one who does this has good hair. But if you’re walking around with third degree burns on your neck and scalp scabs from a conk that was left on too long, well…

As I was saying it’s hard being a light skin black man with good curly hair because 1) People always say you look like another light skin black man with curly hair. 2) Your “blackness” is often questioned (i.e. Remember when Obama announced he was running for president in 2007? Black support was looking too good.) 3) We never really recovered from the wrath brought by muscular, bald, dark skin men like Michael Jordan and punk ass Tyson Beckford.

However, until recently light skin black men were on our way back into style. Rick Foxx had just given a great effort on Dancing with the Stars, Drake and his omnipotent hairline were on top of the hip-hop charts and the great El “Tan Silk” Debarge had made a comeback album. Yet, all this progress was ruined by Mohamed Osman Mohamud, a wannabe terrorist that tried to blow up all the good beer and liberal white people in Portland, Oregon.

Just look at him. All that good hair, he even has it lined up with a temple taper. Man, you know the FBI roughed him up but his hair is still full of body and sheen. Shit’s activated like Lil’ Richie’s was on Family Matters. All that potential to be a credit to a subsection of his race has gone down the drain.

Now he’ll probably get life in prison. Damn! It’s hard being a light skin black man, especially in the booty house.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Do you know what I love most about America? Our freedom to be dumb. I’m talking about dumb like Wesley Snipes for thinking the Constitution tells him NOT to pay taxes; dumb like my friend who believed that the hickey on his girl’s neck actually was a squirrel bite; dumb like a young woman who thinks he really won’t share her nude pics with his friends;  dumb like people that watch a Youtube video with scary music and edited footage and instantly believe that a successful black man like Jay-Z must have been helped by the Devil to reach the top of his industry. God damn dummies!

Not only do we have the freedom to be dumb, it’s actually encouraged by the media. Case in point: the relentless coverage of the TSA pat-downs/feel-ups.

OK, I get it–prosthetic titties are being groped and “junk” is being rubbed. But on the scale of civil liberty violations…10 seconds of love taps from a part-time community college student ain’t shit compared to the Patriot Act, enhanced interrogation techniques (political speak meaning the feds are free to beat yo’  ass), holding prisoners indefinitely without charge or due process, allowing civilian contractors to fight in a military war and the President’s right to order assassinations of U.S. citizens abroad if they are suspected of committing terrorism against the U.S.

Where’s the coverage, discussion, a five minute yell contest The View? Something! Shit, can Oprah give away this information with those free Beetles!

Ironically most of the recent legislation that violates civil liberties was introduced in 2004 and fully supported by today’s anti-TSA crowd. But hey, I guess there’s no reason to speak out against something until it personally touches you.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I’m way late on this but I just saw Precious on cable. And I couldn’t help but think…sometimes we do it to ourselves. For example: 1) The Baracka Waka Flame video 2) Thinking every successful black person is a member of a secret devil cult 3) Encouraging your kid to wear a chopper suit to his 8th grade graduation 4) Investing in rims instead of retirement plans 5) Allowing Maury Povich to be the face of relationship counseling for black families 6) Letting a scene like the one above to make it through final editing.

Dammit Oprah! Didn’t you have final say on Precious? Fried chicken! A whole bucket! I can see putting a hot wing or two in your pocket before you go into the movies, or using a bit of chicken grease to keep the webbing of your fingers moist…but a scene of her big ass stealing a bucket of fried chicken! What can we expect in Precious 2? Is she gonna trade her baby for a bucket of chitlens? Huh! Is Precious’s mama gonna throw a pot of boiling pig feet on her? Huh! That’s what you want to see, Oprah!

Ok, sorry. I have to admit that scene was hilarious (even thought it set us back 30-40 years).

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I don’t really enjoy hanging out with shirtless men. Shirts-vs-skins basketball? Nah, how about we try harder to recognize our teammates. There’s only four of them. Taking off my shirt in the club when a woman wants to touch my abs and bones? Let’s save that for 3am. Running through the projects naked from the waist up reciting lyrics from the Hot Boys? I’m cool. I’ll just chill on Uncle Fishhead’s porch.

So what the hell was 50 Cent and Soulja Boy thinking when they shot this XXL Magazine cover? “Hey man, how about I dress like a masked butt rapist? And you…take your muthafuckin’ shirt off and grab your crotch so it looks kinda consensual. That shit’s big in the porn now. Oh yeah, after the shoot let’s hit the studio. Gotta a new song for all these bitch ass faggot haters…no homo.”

Today’s hip-hop=Extremely homophobic yet oddly homoerotic…no homo.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

There’s a lot at stake in November’s election, especially in Cali. We have a choice between sexy ass Meg Whitman and Jerry Brown, along with a host of other races and propositions. Namely Proposition 19, which will legalize marijuana if passed. The guest blog below courtesy of Weedsworth Bentley, represents a perspective on weed from the type of marijuana smoker you rarely see in the media–professional, educated, accomplished and high as a mutha—shut yo’ mouth! Read on and enjoy. And most of all, get your ass out there and vote on November 2nd.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I rolled my first blunt sometime around the seventh grade. I barely knew what I was doing, but I was somewhat of the gadget guy within my crew and the task seemed to fall at my finger tips.

Normally, I’d be a bit more reserved about such indiscretions — if that’s what you want to call it — but I’m in California biaotch! And I want to be a living testament that all things are possible through the haze of that dank.

Back in the day on the boulevard of Linden, well not really, I think it was somewhere between Main Street and Willis Street; but back then, we copped dime bags of that shit that closely resembles the remnants from using the vaporizer these days. Crack the Phillies — yup, Phillies blunts — dump it, pack it, roll it, spark it, smoke it. Bumpin that B-more club music, poppin and locking, going to the body, hollarin’ at the girls and grown ass women that would cruise by. On top of the world we thought at the time.

Blunted to convene the cipher. Jokes cracked. Lessons learned. From time to time at a party too.

The frequency increased as, let’s say, the ease with which Maryjane became available to me. But then my passion prevailed. I needed my lungs. So I quit her for more than 4 years.

Then, once again, it became part of my lifestyle. Building on occasions.

Passin blunts with internationally known smokers, sharing more than just the peace pipe, but a bond. A social bond, steeped in conversation both concrete and abstract.

Then I found ladies that smoke too. Ohh wee.

There was the 8 day binder on St. Thomas Island. Spring break trips became more fun and interesting.

A small group of us shared the bond.

As those remaining college days swiftly passed and my step into the professional world was in sight, I realized, grown folks gotta take piss tests — and pass em.

Days prior to my first test that would determine employment, I had blazed it. It was the norm by then. I learned of an apparent detox conction; apple cider vinegar, green tea, cranberry juice and lots of water.

A rush of the thrill rushed over me as I I received the job offer. Guess I passed. Gainfully employed.

From there smoking became the social bond to connect with co-workers. That turned to brain storming sessions for story ideas, then little journalists games — see who can work the phrase “win-win” past the editors and into a story for the masses.

I realized my affair with the reefers brought another level of enjoyment for the world around me. All of the sudden the world was my movie and I the director.

The creative egg hatched — a co-written screenplay with one rule to composition, “one must not work on said script in sober state.” The project remains unfinished.

Upon my first voyage into the wild wild west, the quality of somethings withered, while the quality of others skyrocketed — weed and women!

In the Evergreen State all you need is a hollowed apple, a bud and some fire. Knife hits, the bong — Nunu, Bongquesha — single hitters that look like cigarettes, brownies, concentrated drops, rice crispy treats and soda.

I had become exposed to the many ways to consume that doja weed; what’s your name what’s your style?

This all said not to brag, but to share that there are such things as functional pot heads.

Having spent the better part of my 20′s at an elevated state, it’s effect may have slowed me a bit, but more than likely for the better. I have a knack for over ambition; my chill pill.

Stories flowed abundant, under the influence. A bowl in the morning before work; check. Lunch break; check.

When a flutter of activity, information and demands piled up, focus came after lunch.

I learned to puff with the common man and keep my virtue and blow with kings, nor loose the common touch.

There’s a whole wide world around us, consumed a lot better after going dutch.

-Weedsworth Bentley

Black people! We’re too loyal. Though the athletic ability O.J. showed when shanking two people was astounding and Johnnie Cochran’s judiciary rhyme skills were off the chain, there’s nothing cool about cheering the release of a murderer. R. Kelly is just as bad. Feel free to buy his music, but to deny he’s the man with the overactive bladder from that instructional video is just crazy. “He was found not guilty.” Bullshit.

Now we hear Bishop Eddie Long’s sweet ass has been spending parishioners’ funds on international sex trips with teenage boys. Still, his congregation remains loyal. Loyal to a “man of God” that wants to be blessed with Bentleys, black diamonds and butt sex with boys—while vilifying gays and other “lost sheep.” Loyal to a “man of God” that lives a life more financially extravagant than the billionaire founder of Facebook. Hell yeah, saw it on Oprah! Loyal to a “man of God” that has time to keep his S-curl juicier than Dominique Wilkins’s circa 1988 but no time to answer direct questions about his transgressions.

Can I get a witness?

Oh yeah, the photo. That’s an old pic of Rick James and crew. Reminds me of the freaky shit Eddie Long had going on. Plus or minus a couple schlongs.

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

AquaBounty, a biotech company, has altered the growth hormone in salmon to create a big ass salmon that grows twice as fast. But no one can say with certainty if these fish can cause health problems. Perhaps the fish will have increased allergens as a result of the increased size? Maybe they’ll escape and eat all the normal salmon before evolving into giant earth-ruiners called humans? Who knows…

But there are some potential benefits: 1) Larger fish could be produced for the world’s poor and starving 2) You can show off the big ass fish to your gay uncle at family gatherings who will probably say, “I usually don’t be eatin’ no fishees but I’ma have me some of that….”

Oh yeah, an environmentally friendly modified pig is also in the works. I probably won’t be eating that either. As my homie from the New Black Panther Party (pictured below) says, “Pork and white women are the black man’s downfall.”

Dewan Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Fox “News” does a good job of reaching its target demographic—angry white men who have brought penis envy into politics. I don’t support the station but I will check its website on occasion (along with Drudge Report), just to see what The Man is up to. And The Man is always up to something.

But today’s news was a little different. Of course it had the usual Obama bashing and fear-mongering biased stories, but it also had a very unique alarmist story in its Children’s Health section titled, “Boy Blistered After Licking Used Condom, Grandma Says.”

Click the title to read the entire story. I guess it serves as fair warning to all you hockey loving grizzly moms and grandmas living up north right next to Russia. Watch out for Mooslims, insurance company death panels and used condoms in hotel rooms.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Whether correctional officer or porn fluffer, I don’t have a problem with anyone earning an honest living. But when you do a William Roberts (Rick Ross) and deny your past to portray an image as a international cocaine dealer, that’s wack. You’re leading kids down the wrong path, man. We should encourage our children to do things like write slightly explicit books about love, lust and sex–not become drug dealers.

Look, here’s what Ross SHOULD HAVE said in response to the C.O. controversy: “Yeah, I was a C.O. I was earning a living to feed my family. Look man, this rap shit is fake. None of us are real gangsters or dopeboys. It’s all entertainment.” Instead Ross insinuated that he was dealing drugs from INSIDE the prison when he worked as a correctional officer. Come on, man! Oh yeah, give the real Rick Ross is name back. You’re William Roberts–overweight street poet and entertainer. Love yourself, nigga.

Anyway, the video below is a promotional mini-film for Ross’s new Teflon Don album. Check it out for the unintentional laughs, sort of like Master P’s Bout It in the late 90s. This man has Pakistanis actors pretending to be Cubans. You’re telling that even though you’re from Miami you couldn’t find a proper Cuban to play a fake ass Tony Montana? And pay close attention to the scene at 2:55. Woman gets shot but no blood, no hole. That hoe’s indestructable!

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

A little less than a year ago I wrote of my experience at a TEA Party rally in Oceanside, Cali. The post alluded to TEA Party Express (“express” meaning they can spread hate faster than other TEA Party groups) leader Mark Williams calling President Obama an “Indonesian Muslim turned welfare thug.” Punk ass Mark Williams then left a comment on the post calling me a “ward of the state,” presumably because I taught at a state university.

I responded but quickly forgot about Williams—I figured he was another internet gangster, a hypersensitive e-thug that checks his Google alerts every morning in hopes that someone mentions his name so he can say a bunch of shit he’d never say face-to-face.

Well, this weekend Williams caught my attention again. He wrote a fictional letter on his blog to President Abraham Lincoln from “Precious Ben Jealous, Tom’s Nephew, NAACP head colored person” that read in part, “We Coloreds have taken a vote and decided that we don’t cotton to that whole emancipation thing. Freedom means having to work for real, think for ourselves, and take consequences along with the rewards. That is just far too much to ask of us Colored people and we demand that it stop!”

Turns out the joke was really on Mark Williams…so much for satire. The National TEA Party Federation, having been called out by the NAACP, expelled Williams and the TEA Party Express. Karma all up in that ass! Enough said.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I should've shot his cracka ass in '84.

“You’re an embarrassment to me. You look like a fuckin’ pig in heat, and if you get raped by a pack of niggers, it will be your fault.” Damn Mel. First the Jews, now blacks. Mexicans better watch out! Shit, you thought Governor Brewer was something else…wait to you hear Mel’s immigration policy.

And “a pack”? How about a gang, a group, a G-Unit? Oh yeah, change the “er” to “a.” Nigger is so pre-Civil Rights Act. By the way, you should have received an Oscar for playing Danny Glover’s partner/ace homie in Lethal Weapon. Talk about a complete character transformation…

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

As a proud American I can say in general…we’re a lazy bunch of people. We complain about going to jobs that only require us to sit our wide asses down for eight hours and fiddle with a computer. We sit in our cars for minutes on end waiting on the closest possible parking space, without giving thought to taking one of the numerous open spaces just 20 yards from our destination. And we contract most of our dirty farm work to Mexicans, who we then tell to get the fuck out, for fear they’re taking all our jobs, speaking in a secret criminal language and spreading strange diseases like taco fever.

Well now Americans can have the jobs that “dem Mexicants” are taking. The United Farm Workers (UFW) union is offering farm worker training to unemployed Americans. The jobs pay $8-$9 and provide great working conditions, like being hunched over for hours on end, six days a week. Also, the work is seasonal so you’ll be living in worker camps and moving across the country every few months. And no, you will not be able to check your Facebook or surf the net during “downtime” at work.

Let’s see how many American apply…nigga please! You can read more about these job opportunities HERE.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Attention black women: Regardless of what Oprah and her billionaire va-jay-jay led you to believe after the episode about “the down low,” NOT ALL BLACK MEN ARE GAY.

Prime example; my new roommate, a young black woman from Atlanta who works as a masseuse/loin and snatch bedazzler, walked into my room early one weekend morning. Upon entering she saw a magnificent white chocolate woman sprawled across my bed. There was also a faint smell of The Baby D Experience in the air. My roommate said “I’m sorry! But do you have some carwash concentrate?” I answered “no” and that was that.

But later that morning my roommate returned and said, “I am so sorry. I have something to apologize to you for.” Thinking that she might have eaten my Salisbury steak TV dinner, which could completely ruin our domestic situation, I cautiously reply “What?” Then she hit me with something that I have ONLY heard from African American women (despite formerly having a United Nations inspired harem), “I just assumed you were gay. I didn’t know you were into women.”

What? I asked her “Did you think that because of the Prince album cover on my wall?” She explained “No. You said your friend Matt stays over on your couch after you go out drinking. I assumed y’all had something going on.” Huh? “And you seem soft-spoken.”

Well, I don’t really see myself as soft-spoken. My voice is calm and smooth, like a baby’s ass wrapped in silk sheets. Soft-spoken…I don’t know about that.

More puzzled than offended I made things clear to my roommate. “I have gay friends and don’t have a problem with anyone being gay, but that’s not me.” I then added a President Obama-esque statement “I have never engaged in any homosexuality activity, nor have I felt like doing so.” She then yelled in her Southern drawl, “Lawwwd! I’m sorry!” I bet; can I get a witness?

And my roommate is not alone. A couple-few years ago I had a young African American nurse pop the gay question on our first date! I asked her to explain why she asked and she nonchalantly replied, “It’s cause you smile a lot. And a lot of black guys are on the down low now.” God damn Oprah!

To be frank, I don’t exhibit any stereotypical gay male behaviors (loose neck, straight back, diva walk, tendency to pronounce men with an unnecessary plural “s” as in “All them mens over there). But as mentioned, I do smile a lot—for what that’s worth. I also wear jeans that fit, strongly support equality for gays, pay attention to hygiene and despise hypermasculinity. And if that makes me gay, well then heeeyyyy.

But seriously, the rush by black women to label black men (more often than not black men who don’t fit the “hard” black man stereotype, i.e. Kanye West or Drake) as “down low” or “suspect” is symbolic of the homophobia in African American culture. We bought into the fear tactics of J.L. King and his On The Down Low book. We raise our children to be unemotional and hard (admittedly we do need to be, more so than the population as a whole). And we have come to believe that any black man who greets you with a smile as opposed to a head nod and cold stare must be gay.

But you know what…who cares if he is?

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I saw this bumper sticker as I was going into Walmart this morning. Side note: Yes, I’m trying to beat my Walmart addiction. I know they are a terrible multinational corportation that won’t pay a decent wage, but they have great deals on tissue and TV dinners! Just give me time…I can only fight a couple, few battles at a time.

Anyway, it’s apparent that this person fails to understand that “Allah” is an Arabic term for God. A term, not a different god, as there could be no other god if one is truly a Christian, Muslim or Jewish monotheist.

Damn man, I don’t have all the answers about this typhoon of confusion called religion, but shit like this makes me keep my distance. And to think people like this ran our country (and the world) for eight years. SMH while the founding fathers turn over in their graves (especially Thomas Jefferson who owned a copy of the Qu’Ran).

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I know we love our pets, but we have to stop kissing dogs on the mouth. Do you know how many salads they toss on a daily basis? Think about it, when ppl meet we say hello. When dogs meet they toss salads. They even toss their own salads. Not cool, not cool.

Told you. Look at the dog in the picture. All up in that ass like R. Kelly.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

It’s Malcom’s birthday, but something tells me that some people only know of him from the Young Jeezy mixtape controversy.

Come on man…read The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Nah, you don’t even have to do that. Google him! Wikipedia him, man!

By the way, that Young Jeezy is bangin’ son! SMH at myself.

“Education is the passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today.”

-Malcolm X (El Hajj Malik El Shabazz)

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

We love his aggression. He’ll run past you or through you and explode off one leg from just inside the free throw line—watch out, might get nuts on your chin. The opposition calls timeout. He walks toward the bench, bow legged and tip-toe, sweating like Fantasia at an outdoor concert in Mississippi.

But he’s not done. He pauses at center court and thrusts his tatted arms in a hostile upward motion. He wants more. And you oblige because he is The King. You jump to your feet and wave a towel, screaming like a maniacal woman seeking to establish paternity on The Maury Povich Show.

Now things have changed. You say what Kobe would have done (Do you not remember Kobe tanking the final playoff game against the Phoenix Suns, just to make a point that he is the Lakers end all be all? Or how about the clinching game six of the 2008 finals—the Celtics spanked the Lakers and a helpless Kobe by 39 points). You say what Jordan would have done (Did it not take Jordan eight seasons to win his first championship?). You say what Magic would have done (But he couldn’t have done it without Kareem, Worthy and Scott). You even question his commitment to winning.

Have you forgotten what Lebron has done since 2003? For himself, the team, the league, the fans, the city. You make no mention of how he carried us to the 2007 NBA Finals. The night he dropped 48 on the Pistons in the Eastern Conference Finals, including the team’s last 25 points, is a distant memory. What about the game winning three against Orlando in last year’s playoffs?

You ride his aforementioned nuts when things are going well. You proudly wear his jersey and nearly come to blows with anyone who disputes that the hometown kid is The King.

Oh yeah, you love the perks that come with living in the birthplace of basketball royalty. Especially when the Jay-Zs and Ushers come to town to witness; transforming Cleveland from a “mistake” to the city of the moment—if only for a couple nights a year. Believe me, they don’t come to see the city’s landmarks and bask in the pleasant ambiance of terrible weather and high crime. They are here for The King, they will leave with The King.

And now you have the nerve to ask him to stay. Prematurely labeling him an opportunist and money obsessed athlete, if he even gives thought to playing in a city that won’t turn on him after one game. Yes. One terrible game in which admittedly, he played with the emotion of a 10 year old guide dog.

You know what? Go ahead and spend your hard-earned money on Browns tickets. They’ve really shown a commitment to winning, right? Or how about those Indians? Looks like a potential World Series title this year, huh?

Damn, I wonder what fans of Kobe, Jordan, or Magic would do?

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

First “The Darkness Cake!” and now this. I joined a Facebook group called “I’m Dark Skinned and Effin Proud” in hopes of interacting with people interested in having intelligent discussions about self-idenity and color. But instead I end up browsing through the their page and finding this pic.

Lighten up the background man! Yes, be proud to be dark skinned but we also want to see who you are. Can’t have homeboy blending in with the night. Come on man…

Well, to brighten the mood a bit. Here’s a new R. Kelly, Lil Jon and Mario video called…”Ms. Chocolate.”

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

A friend of a friend got this cake for his birthday. From what I hear he’s a dark skin black man with really white teeth and eyes (hold on…assuming your Hepatitis test is negative mostly everyone has white eyes). Anyway, the guy is a bit of a jokester. So his racially diverse group of friends decided to get him the “Darkness Cake!”

I’m a big fan of racially insensitive humor, especially George Carlin and Chris Rock, so the “Darkness Cake!” provided me with a hesitant laugh. Then I thought of the context–close friends, the birthday boy has a sense of humor, etc–and I found the “Darkness Cake!” borderline hilarious.

But if you change the context, say this cake was given to the birthday boy by co-workers during a brief in-office celebration, and the laughter dies. Worse yet, consider the history of Blackface and things get much more tense. So tense I feel pre-shank a cracka chills coming up my spine. Huh? My bad.

Well it turns out the party went on without problems and everyone was gay and joyous. Nothing like a racially insensitive laugh on an otherwise uneventful weekend…I guess.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

A week after I led a march of 10,000 people in San Diego (well I was there, didn’t exactly lead it) Al Sharpton was in Phoenix to protest the Arizona immigration law and announce the founding of a new African American-Latino civil rights organization called BBQ and Burritos. He also rocked a brand new “Los Suns” jersey. Hopefully Brother Al will be instrumental in ushering in a new age of black and brown unity. We can’t afford to sit back and watch Consuela from Family Guy get kicked out the country for no good reason! Hey…I kid because I care!

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

WEDNESDAY APRIL 28, 2010: I met a group of young lawyers in a bar. All were in favor of the Arizona immigration bill. They insisted it was NOT racial profiling. Yet none could define “reasonably suspicious.” Also, none had proof of citizenship when I asked to see their papers. I told them they can’t leave until the feds confirm their citizenship. We didn’t get along too well after that.

SATURDAY MAY 1, 2010: I decide to spend the afternoon with like minded people at the immigration protest in downtown San Diego. We got along much better.

Enjoy and be sure to click “Read The Rest…” for more pics.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

There’s been a lot of fuss over KFC’s new “Double Down” sandwich. At first glance it appears to be an edible orgasm for grease loving gluttons on a budget, a symbol of how American eating habits have made this nation into a wasteland of obesity and laziness, a frightening reminder of how we slowly eat ourselves to death yet demand: bigger, bigger, bigger…cheaper, cheaper, cheaper, greasier, greasier, greasier. I want high fructose corn syrup muthafucka! Transfat now nigga!

But when you have a second look the Double Down it ain’t all that. In fact it has the same amount of calories as a Big Mac—540, less calories than a Whopper—670, less than a Wendy’s double burger—740 and even less calories than you’ll get in a McDonald’s five piece chicken breast select—660.

So while a Double Down diet can cause fat assedness and increased healthcare costs for all, it’s not really worse than any other form of suicide by value meal. Please do enjoy.

By the way, I wonder why KFC is not selling the Double Down at its international locations. Hummm…

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

The right was in an uproar when Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele stated that as an African American he has a slimmer margin for error than a white chairman would. Republican critics, already steamed about Steele’s politically incorrect goofs and spending issues, pounced on him for “pulling the race card.” Left-wing critics, sensing political gain, mocked Steele as if his comments were invalid, as reflected by White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs statement “I think Michael Steele’s problem isn’t the race card; it’s the credit card.”

The controversy is reflective of a “blame the victim” practice that has become much more prevalent during the Obama era. If one even mentions race he or she is labeled a race baiter, yet the accused perpetrator or in this case system of perpetrators—absent of any overt racist language or actions—are freed from further examination. While there is no hard data to determine if Steele actually does have a slimmer margin of error as the first black GOP chairman, we do know that even today racism is entrenched in American society.

For example:

• The United States Sentencing Commission recently found that black and Hispanics males are given prison sentences that are 10% longer than white males for the same offenses

• Driving While Black continues to be a major offense in many parts of the country, especially on the infamous I-95. A look at the Maryland state trooper’s data shows that while 75% of the highway’s drivers are white, blacks make up 70% of those who are pulled over

• According to US census data black men with a college degree make an average of $42,000 per year, white men with a college degree make $51,000 per year

• Various mainstream media outlets including MSNBC and ABC News have reported an surge in hate crimes since President Obama was elected including a black teenager beaten with a bat by four white teenagers on election night, the post-inauguration raping of a black woman by a white supremacist who also killed her sister and another man, various cross burnings and a four percent rise in the number of hate groups from 2007 to 2008

• According to a University of Chicago study job applicants with a black-sounding name are 50% less likely to receive a call back when compared to applicants with white-sounding names, despite having the same qualifications

• According to the New England Journal of Medicine numerous health disparities exist among African Americans, and they are not only issues of access to care or insurance status. Black patients with insurance are less likely to receive life saving heart bypass surgery when compared to white patients that are also insured. There are also racial disparities in types of treatments offered that are unrelated to having health insurance and access to care

It would be foolish to believe American racism does not reach the realm of politics. Interestingly enough the GOP, who were strongest in the criticism of Steele for “pulling the race card,” have done exactly that numerous times since President Obama’s campaign and election. However, their idea of pulling the race card is not an action of victimhood. It is to engage their largely white male base in hopes of gaining anger votes.

For example:

• Racist buttons were distributed at the Texas Republican Convention

• Prominent South Carolina GOP activist Rusty DePass compared Michelle Obama to an escaped gorilla

• A newsletter distributed by a California republican group include an image of a fake food stamp with President Obama’s picture that included images of watermelon, ribs and fried chicken

• Republican State Senate candidate Mike Parry wrote the following of President Obama on his Twitter page “He is a power hungry arrogant black man.”

• A Tennessee GOP staffer circulated an image that included pictures of all US presidents. However, President Obama’s image only included a set of eyes, as if he is too dark to see

• Republican Geoff Davis from Kentucky said of President Obama “That’s boy’s finger does not need to be the button” when speaking about US nuclear weapons

• Rush Limbaugh…

Obviously the election of President Obama showed that most Americans are fair-minded people. And there has also been great progress in race relations since the Civil Rights Act of 1964; I can only imagine what these statistics and incidences numbered at that time.

But to portray “the race card” as trivial and fictitious is to deny what the statistics and anecdotal evidence continue to show: racism is a reality embedded in the American experience that continues to permeate American culture, especially during times of change and economic turmoil. If you disagree, just wait until President Obama takes up immigration reform…

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

In the old days, meaning the 2000’s, it was considered strange for a straight man to have gay friends. But now a lot of straight “mens” do and I think more should follow my lead. So here you are, 10 Reasons Why Every Straight Male Needs A Gay Friend…Bitches.

-Ever bought a pair of skinny jeans (or an aerated mesh shirt) and wondered “Does this look gay?” Well, you’ll definitely get an honest answer.

-You can learn how to enhance your vocabulary through various techniques such as the unnecessary plural (adding s to men to create a fabulous term, “mens”) and culturally appropriate terms such as “twink.”

-Before going out on an important date with a nice young lady, he will encourage you by saying “You better work it!”

-He’ll inspire your drive to succeed. Gay men often have a STRONG drive to succeed so that they can move into nice homes with minimalist furniture and purchase fancy name-brand clothing accessories like Paul Smith socks. Perhaps this drive is an effort to get back at a cold, hard world that treats gays as outcasts, or maybe it’s just a desire to “work it.” And as we all know if you want to “work it” that’s going to cost some money. Whatever the case may be, you don’t have drive until you have gay drive.

-You get honest feedback from a more feminine perspective that most men are unable to give. This feedback usually begins with the phrase “You know you wrong for that one. I wish a nigga would…” Feedback then becomes more masculine and ends with “You don’t know how to pimp those hoes. I’ll tell you how to pimp those bitches.”

-If he’s out shopping and sees a tie on sale, he might just pick it up for you.

-You become sure that if it ever came down to it and you needed him to help you scrap he’d be down. And yes I literally mean scrap, similar to what you see in the video below.

-Think of all the women you know. Multiply that by 20 and you’ll get an idea of a gay man’s female network. All potential referrals!

-You know how you wanted to buy the Beyonce because “the beats are good,” but you didn’t for fear of manly retribution from friends. Go ahead and buy it. He’ll understand because according to him “Beyonce is a bad ass bitch.”

-All men have a friend or family member that makes them wonder if he’s hiding in a designer closet. Maybe his back is a little too straight or his neck a tad bit loose. Or maybe he came to your room wearing tighty-whiteys and a torn baby t-shirt, saying “You got anytime to talk?” Well no need to wonder anymore. Introduce him to your gay friend and he’ll utilize his high speed Gadar. Then you all can feel comfortable around each other, just one big gay group of friends. Gay as in happy!

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I would describe myself as more pro-human than pro-black, but I’ve grown to recognize the importance of appreciating my African heritage. Like many black Americans I spent a fair amount of time distancing myself from Africa, even called a few people “African bootyscratchers” as a youth. But now as a grown ass sensual man I realize that in many ways I am an AFRICAN IN AMERICAN. Or maybe I’m reading too much Malcolm X? What do you think? (You need not be of African heritage to answer the question.)

A similar question was posed on Facebook and a very interesting dialogue started. I got a little pissed off (a neck vein started showing and my forehead got shiny). Keep in mind that everyone on the thread was as dark or darker than me. i.e. A few shades lighter than Wesley Snipes…if that even matters. Have a look:

Payroll Johnny: Which one are you, African American or Negro?

Rasheda Searles: i’m black

Dewan Gibson: African American=ethnicity, black=race, which is your physical characteristics. So u can be black, but not African American. Negro=Old term for African American. Some of r grandparents still use it, which is why its on the census.

Senolia L. Martinez: I am American I’ve never been to African and I am not a Negro my skin color is brown.

Tiffany AngelofGod Baylor: I HATE being called a african american cause all of my ancestry are NOT from africa! Some are white, some are American INDIANS and some are from Africa! So that “lable” that the whites gave us after slavery was wrong in my opinion.

Dewan Gibson: There’s hardly any ppl that are just one ethnicity. But i don’t see how our ppl deny Africa when are features, hair and blood are almost completely African–not white or Indian. Seems to be a lot of self-hate towards Africa (in general). If u don’t love the roots, you can’t love the tree. There’s a lot to be proud of about Africa. Its a shame that we try to distance ourselves.

Di-Ya Davis: i’m black

Tiffany AngelofGod Baylor: I never want to distance myself, but I kno where my roots are and there are too many different roots passed down for ME personally to claim to be african american. I would like to say that I am of Indian, african, and Caucasian decent. Now you can “label” that if u want but I say that I am mixed. What about folks who has one parent from Egypt, and … another from, England. But they where born in america? What “label” would u put on them? African american right! They would consider that controversial cause they are not “Just” african american. Feel me. Look at my son, he Looks white with BLONDE hair, cause of the genes passed down. but I am brownskinned.

Dewan Gibson: Cool. Like anyone, feel free to label yourself as you see fit. For me it was more about the slight anti-African tone that led me to write my previous comment. NO AFRICAN AMERICANS HAVE 100% BLOOD, that is obvious. So maybe we should all call ourselves mixed. In which case there would be no such thing as an African American or black person. As for … the child, he could be whoever he wants to. Pres Obama has an African dad and white mother, but he identifies as African American. Why? Because he feels a strong (maybe stronger) cultural connection with this group and his skin obviously is not white. I didn’t mean to offend you and should have spoken in more general terms. But my point is that there is a fear and demeaning attitude among African Americans towards Africa and its people. It’s disgusting and full of self-hate. IMO for someone to say “I am only black and not African American” (not saying u said this, but it is often said) is to deny an ethnicity/culture and simply be a color. Why? Because they have been taught this “dark continent” is poor, shameful and w/o pride. But to each his or her own.

Tiffany AngelofGod Baylor: Africans wouldn’t call us africans? They call us Negros or Black. Negro is spanish for black. FYI.

Dewan Gibson: Africans I’ve met in a number of places throughout the world call me “brother,” “my African brother” and also ask why we’re so distant. They will sometimes say “American” until they find I’m not the typical American Negro who is intimidated by my roots. And yes Negro is a Spanish term, but originally Latin for “dark.” Not sure that matters.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Photo Courtesy of Phil Selby: bigeyedeer.wordpress.com

A little over a week ago I came across an article on CNN.com that discussed the prevalence of herpes among adults ages 14-49. The article discussed a Center for Disease Control study that found nearly 17% of the U.S. population has genital herpes, including 21% of women and an embarrassing/astounding 48% of black women (sorry, I love my people—and not just my light-skinned people—but I have to call it as I see it).

After digesting the article I posted it on Facebook along with a status update that read:

“Just read that one out of five women has genital herpes. Guess that means one out of five women is at-risk of having my foot up her ass. This is crazy! U can’t even dry-hump anymore. I’m waiting until I settle down. Not trying to get sores around Big Thunder.”

An assortment of comments followed including one from a friend named “Grits” who talked about throat herpes (in a T-pain voice). Other comments came from women who seemed to take offense at the statistics…as if I did the study or spread herpes to 21% of the female population.

Anyway, the whole hilarious in a weird way post-study debacle re-sparked an earlier interest in sexual health from my days as a community health director/HNIC. So I went over to the Center for Disease Control website and started an amateur analysis of the data.

Unfortunately herpes data is only based on physician office visits across the nation and not analyzed to the tee like data for other STDs such as chlamydia and gonorrhea. As a result, you’re stuck reading about chlamydia and gonorrhea. (BTW shout-out to my homeboy Firestarter.)

My first thought was “Chlamydia, come on man. I’ll knock that out with some antibiotics and be back in the game by the weekend.” But after further reading I realized that a lot of STDs are co-occurring. So if you’re burning you are also at a higher risk for herpes and the monster…HIV.

You can play around with the data in a number of ways, but as a former international chick banger I chose to break it up by city. So I found cities in the U.S. where the most common STD (Chlamydia) is most prevalent. In other words, cities that if you visit or live you probably want to wear a latex body suit.

Here are the 10 cities with the highest chlamydia rates per 100,000 people (from highest to lower, among the 50 largest cities in the United States):

1) Memphis, Tennessee 2) Virginia Beach, VA 3) Birmingham, AL 4) Jacksonville, Florida 5) Detroit, Michigan 6) Richmond, VA 7) Austin, TX 8) Indianapolis, IN 9) Rochester, NY 10) St. Louis, MO.

Well, I guess these rankings kind of give new meaning to “Dirty South.” But all jokes aside the important question is what can we do? Obviously safe sex (but damn you can get herpes from dry-humping!), abstinence, access to health care and education are all issues.

Thus, I want to propose something that former U.S. Surgeon General brought up back in 1998 and lost her job for doing so. We need to start jacking off more!

That’s right. I firmly believe that masturbation can prevent some of the bad decision making that comes with running up in people raw, being unfaithful and banging out mass populations of women and men. So here’s my suggestion: Jerk it before you work it.

In the coming weeks I’ll dive deeper into masturbation/STD prevention research and contact some of my old peeps from the field of public health. Perhaps we’ll come together and start a masturbation campaign to decrease STDs? Shit…stay tuned.

You can read the report from the CDC here.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

It has been a bad week for fake ass politicians. First California State Senator Roy Ashburn, who has consistently voted against equal rights for gays, was arrested for drunk driving…after he left a gay bar with a twink (exit only, I learned the term “twink” from “Terrail.” Read my book and you’ll get the joke).

Anyway, after the arrest Senator Ashburn admitted that he has a sexual preference for humans with Y chromosomes. He then made plans to attend Fire Island this summer.

Then, Eric Massa, a married with children US Congressman from New York resigned after being accused of inappropriate behavior towards male staffers. He claims he only tickled his staffers and once said “I should be fucking you!” But besides that he didn’t do much other than get a major boner as he imagined soap dripping down the crack of a young man’s ass. Congressman Massa will also be attending Fire Island this summer.

Lastly, Utah State Representative Kevin Garn admitted that at age 28 he went skinny dipping with a 15 year old employee. Years later when he ran for office in his late 40’s he paid the woman $150,000 not to mention the incident. But you guessed it; her slick ass went and blabbed off to the media anyway. Unfortunately after losing a 150k, Representative Garn cannot afford to attend Fire Island, but hopes to make it to Freak-Nic in Atlanta when that starts again.

The lesson is, if you plan on being a politician, consider letting all your dirt out prior to taking office. When I run for the Senate all I have to say is “Read the book man, just read the book.” On second thought…there is that one incident with that woman who might have born in the early 1990’s. But the statute of limitations is almost up on that so I’m cool! Coming soon, Senator Baby D.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

(The Imperfect Enjoyment is also available as a $0.99 download for the i-Phone, Blackberry, PC and Amazon Kindle)

This don’t make no damn sense. Woman goes over and fights for our country and comes back to work in a fake ass strip club–in Meechy’s basement. We gotta do better for our wounded warriors.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

(The Imperfect Enjoyment is also available as a $0.99 download for the i-Phone, Blackberry, PC and Amazon Kindle)

So much for racial profiling…American actress Glenn Close has been charged with plotting to kill a Swedish journalist who drew a derogatory cartoon of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). You probably know her from the 1980′s thriller Fatal Attraction. Well, she allegedly recruited potential killers online and wrote of her desire to become an Islamic martyr. You know, just the regular ol’ shit that Hollywood stars do.

I always knew those Hollywood commies were up to something. And don’t let me get started on that foreign-born socialist Hussein Obama…jeez. I’m just glad to know that we have real patriots like Liz Cheney to pick up where Joseph McCarthy left off.

Sorry!!! I’ve just been alerted that the accused terrorist IS NOT actress Glenn Close. Apparently she is Colleen LaRose, a suburban housewive in Montgomery, Pennsylvania and a down-low terrorist. You can read more about her arrest here. I still suspect that she might have a Hollywood connection and I will keep you updated. The real Glenn Close (or is her name really Colleen LaRose?) is below. Sorry about that, but God Bless America.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

(The Imperfect Enjoyment is also available as a $0.99 download for the i-Phone, Blackberry, PC and Amazon Kindle)

Before starting this post I want to reaffirm my love for Judge Judy. I’ve spoken of her in glowing terms usually reserved for models of womanhood such as Mary-Mother of Jesus and Sheila-Mother of Dewan, Wayne, Durrell and Lashaunta. However, there is another TV judge that I admire and that’s Judge Mathis.

I started digging Judge Mathis years ago when I noticed a number of his proceedings included the phrase “Y’all must of had something freaky going on!” Often the litigants did NOT have anything freaky going on, but being such an astute Judge, Brotha Mathis figured he should ask anyway. Plus he wanted to be ready in case some freaky shit did jump off after the show.

Sadly Judge Mathis is not shown on basic TV in San Diego. I guess it’s kind of like how The Man puts literature by black authors in the “black section” of the bookstore despite the story of the novel having little or nothing to do with the black experience. Well, the same for Judge Mathis. He’s a black judge so I guess they figure only markets with large black populations are interested in seeing if there actually is “something freaky going on.”

But thanks to the magic of the internet I was able to see Judge Mathis on Youtube. Check him out discussing the prison industrial complex and the need for reform (WTF! Corporate owned prisons paying inmates $1 a day!).

Anyway, if you’re one of those fancy, rich progressive people with hundreds of cable channels and multiple episodes of shows like The Colbert Report stored on your DVR (whatever that is), feel free to invite me over so we can try and find Judge Mathis. Until then watch him above and below.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

A number of black themed blogs are upset about John Mayer’s “nigger” comments…and it’s a whole bunch of racket about nothing. The minute someone lacking in melatonin says “nigga” or “nigger” the context behind their statements is disregarded and an immediate racism examination is conducted.

In short, the offender is screened for their history with black people, someone calls Jesse, someone calls Al and then the offender issues an apology—just to shut everyone up. White liberals and black intellectuals continue to pounce on the offender until he or she completes six months of nigga punishment, which includes additional apologies and service to the black community.

As you can read below from Mayer’s conversation with Playboy, this ain’t exactly Michael Richards at the Los Angeles Laugh Factory. Mayer is making the point that if he was genuinely accepted within the black community perhaps he would have the go ahead to use the word “nigger” (NOTE: Considering publications ALWAYS print “nigger” when someone says “nigga” I assume Mayer actually said “nigga”—not that it makes any difference to the ultra sensitive).

I suppose Mayer could have said “n-word” instead of actually saying “nigger.” But I suppose the vast majority of African Americans, Latinos and Filipinos could do the same. Yes, in case you didn’t know the “n-word” is common among the three ethnic groups mentioned.

Listen, I find it funny when Chris Rock says “There’s a difference between niggas and black people.” I laugh just as hard when he calls white people “crackers.” I also find it funny when friends say “Nigga please!”

So I refuse to display the blatant hypocrisy that comes with laughing when one person says it and criticizing another, despite the fact that the person is not even calling someone “nigger” or “nigga.”

He is alluding to a term! Sorry, but I can’t aid in creating an environment where someone cannot even discuss the term, without actually saying the term. Nigga, nigga, nigga. Big deal.

Think of it this way. Say I’m with female friends, and as manly men like myself often do, I blurt out the lyrics to Lady Gaga and scream “I’m a free bitch!” However, say one of the women I’m with gets offended. Is her offense justified? Do I really need to be called a chauvinist? Does my picture on a “Wanted: Dead or Alive” poster really need to be sent to the National Organization for Women? No!

Bottom line, save for the anger for real racism—Michelle Obama’s picture altered to look like monkey, the Michael Bell shooting and verdict, US immigration policy towards Haiti—not some singer who makes light of a supposed dirty, yet sacred term that is consistently used in a NUMBER of communities.

Pick your battles wisely, this ain’t one of them.

A portion of Mayer’s interview is below. You can read the rest by clicking HERE.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

MAYER: Someone asked me the other day, “What does it feel like now to have a hood pass?” And by the way, it’s sort of a contradiction in terms, because if you really had a hood pass, you could call it a nigger pass. Why are you pulling a punch and calling it a hood pass if you really have a hood pass? But I said, “I can’t really have a hood pass. I’ve never walked into a restaurant, asked for a table and been told, ‘We’re full.’”

PLAYBOY: It is true; a lot of rappers love you. You recorded with Common and Kanye West, played live with Jay-Z.

MAYER: What is being black? It’s making the most of your life, not taking a single moment for granted. Taking something that’s seen as a struggle and making it work for you, or you’ll die inside. Not to say that my struggle is like the collective struggle of black America. But maybe my struggle is similar to one black dude’s.

PLAYBOY: Do black women throw themselves at you?

MAYER: I don’t think I open myself to it. My dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I’ve got a Benetton heart and a fuckin’ David Duke cock. I’m going to start dating separately from my dick.

PLAYBOY: Let’s put some names out there. Let’s get specific.

MAYER: I always thought Holly Robinson Peete was gorgeous. Every white dude loved Hilary from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. And Kerry Washington. She’s superhot, and she’s also white-girl crazy. Kerry Washington would break your heart like a white girl. Just all of a sudden she’d be like, “Yeah, I sucked his dick. Whatever.” And you’d be like, “What? We weren’t talking about that.” That’s what “Heartbreak Warfare” is all about, when a girl uses jealousy as a tactic.

Former ESPN baseball analyst Steve Phillips was on “The Today Show” to discuss his battle with sex addiction. To make a long story short the 40-something Mr. Phillips and his magnificent goatee cheated on his wife with a 22 year old production assistant (as documented when I inducted Mr. Phillips into my Player Hall of F(sh)ame).

The chubby assistant fell in love with Mr. Phillips. Out of a jealous anger she then confronted his wife by texting “We both can’t have him” and later showed up at her house. She also reached out to one of his four children via a fake identity on Facebook to get the inside scoop on the marriage. Mr. Phillips and the production assistant were both fired from ESPN. His goatee was fired a week later.

Mr. Philips is now attempting to rehabilitate his image and has completed a second go-around at the same sex addiction clinic where Tiger Woods is allegedly receiving treatment. So…to finally get to the point, this sex addiction phenomenon is starting to reek of bullshit.

For one, sexual activity is a biologically inherent trait. Males are programmed to reproduce, and exercise their chances to have a successful reproductive act. Which means having sex with women of child bearing age and appearance. Key word being the plural of woman, WOMEN.

But marriage is a social norm that tells us we should only express this reproductive trait with a woman whom you file a joint tax return. As a result you have this male conflict between biology and the desirable social norm to have a happy family life and not lose half of everything you own. Some men choose the former; some choose the latter, while others want both.

So to say Steve Phillips and Tiger Woods are sex addicts is a bit of a stretch. But they are men who share three characteristics: 1) They have options 2) They have the means and 3) They are arrogant.

An average (or even less than average) looking man with stable employment and confidence/arrogance will be attractive to a lot of women. But multiply that times 1,000 and make that same less than good looking man rich and powerful. That equals PUSSY GALORE! I know you probably didn’t learn that equation in ninth grade algebra, but it’s true. (Men + extraordinary means=options) x (arrogance)=PUSSY GALORE. For example: Bill Clinton, David Duchovny and that to a lesser extent that nigga in the club buying out the bar all have options. And they have a near unlimited amount of means. It’s a dangerous mix.

The good news is that many or most men grow out of their selfish phase and commit to an ordinary married life. But an arrogant man never leaves the selfish phase that most of us overcome in our mid to late 20’s. An arrogant man believes he DESERVES a loyal wife, a stable family, a harem of average looking women, or at least a chubby intern to mess around with.

He is also arrogant enough to believe he will never be caught. And if he is caught, he can deal with it anyway. Because in his eyes, and often in the eyes of others, HE’S THE SHIT!

This behavior often continues until the arrogant man with options and the means, is truly humbled by his behavior blowing up in his face, or simply accepts that he is not husband material—which is OK!

But until then he has no business being married, and these silly ass women have no business thinking they can change him after marriage. You can excuse his behavior by labeling it an addiction or simply see it for what it is: options, means and arrogance.

NOTE: I am not an expert in relational therapy or any associated field. However, I do hold a Master of Arts in the Easy Classes from San Diego State University. I have also conducted extensive observational and participatory research on fidelity. I have moderate options and means, but have worked hard to eliminate arrogance while maintaining confidence.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Come on man, “We Are the World 2010.” Bullshit! If the song doesn’t include an artist with a Jheri curl and a bedazzled glove, it shouldn’t be called “We Are the World.” If the song doesn’t have the real Stevie Wonder in it, it shouldn’t be called “We Are the World.” Well, maybe Stevie wonder is in the new version, but I’m talking about the slim, sexual Stevie. Not the Stevie that’s been fuckin’ with all those fried foods.

You’re telling me that 90 of the supposed most creative singers in the world couldn’t come up with a title besides “We Are the World 2010.” How about “Haiti! Rise!” Or since we have a few rappers involved how about “Haiti Up In This Bitch!” Remade movies, remixed songs and now a redone fundraiser. Where’s the creativity? They’re even copying the whole look of the stage.

Bottom line, no matter how good this song sounds it cannot create the same energy as the original version. Reason #1: We’ve seen this before. Reason #2: We’re dealing with an unpreventable natural disaster, as opposed to a large scale fully preventable mass starvation. Reason #3: In the age of the internet, most of the artists are overexposed.

When the first “We Are the World” was released it was rare to see most of the artists on the stage, let alone see them together. Think about Michael Jackson at the top of his popularity. He was rarely seen! He’d show up at an awards show looking all shy and mysterious and shiny, had an occasional video, but that was about it. Even though he was the most famous man in the world, he was hiding out like a Chupacabra in Puerto Rico. And when he was seen, he barely said a word. He just got his skinny ass on stage and did something NEW and CREATIVE.

But now you can see any these artists simply by typing their names in Google. Not to mention their Twitter accounts, blogs, video after video, advertisement for their colognes and perfumes, interviews with Jay, Dave, Oprah, Tyra, Jimmy, Conan and Ellen, gossip shows, guest appearances on sitcoms, at Starbucks or Nobu trying to be seen, but not seen. Shit!

I’ll admit the cause is admirable. But from 90 creatives and eccentrics I expect more. And I haven’t even heard the goddamn song yet.

UPDATE: IT HAS JUST BEEN CONFIRMED THAT VINCE VAUGHN ALSO SINGS ON THE NEW “WE ARE THE WORLD.” YES, VINCE “MOTOR BOAT” VAUGHN FROM WEDDING CRASHERS. NO LIE!

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

1980s: Marcus Perry showed it to me and I waved myself calm with a Japanese hand fan. Prince told Apollonia to purify herself in Lake Minnetoka; she did just that and polluted my mind. Mom and Dad left it in the VCR. Big brother Wayne said “When the guy gonna get on top.”

1990s: Crazy Nick had the largest collection in the Midwest. The whole crew went to his place and watched. Everyone pretended not to be a virgin. I couldn’t lie cus my voice was still high. Still everything was cool till Nick asked “I wonder what that taste like?” He was talking about him.

2000s: Found out it’s not like the movies. Found out I’m not like the movies. Dialup died, DSL was born. Redtube, Xtube, Pornotube. Fake amateurs, phony actors. Too easy, too available, girls gone too wild, too often. Internet lives, porn is dead.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Let’s get straight to the facts: An eighteen year old viola playing HONOR STUDENT was walking down a Pittsburgh street when three PLAIN CLOTHES cops jumped out of the car and tried to apprehend him for carrying a “heavy looking object,” which turned out to be a BOTTLE OF MOUNTAIN DEW! Not knowing who the three angry white men were, the teen attempted to run, at which point he was beaten so bad he had his locks pulled out.

Now, I’ve been in 2-3 scraps in my life and left one with a speed knot on my forehead (it was 5th grade, dude outweighed me by 50 pounds–tried to find him on Facebook so we can finish what we started but he’s not on there). That one speed knot left me a bit shook cus I was afraid the girls would no longer think I was short and cute like Webster if I had a second head growing. So I can only imagine the mental and physical pain this young man is going through. I say it’s at least 10-20 million dollars worth of pain. Better yet, let the thugs in blue doing a little time. See how much they like running up on people who won’t run away.

To read the full story click this link: CNN. BTW I had to add that pick of Halle Berry, cus the beating the police gave my boy is ruining the look of my blog.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

(Like this post? Have a look at the rest of the blog: www.imperfectenjoyment.com)

I admire PETA’s passion, but sometimes they go a bit overboard. They fronted on R&B singer Kelis for wearing fur, she struck back with a hilarious yet common sense letter, and then they publicly called her a gold digger. Though I’m ultra liberal on a lot of issues, I’m a bit more moderate when it comes to the killing of animals. Without going to a lengthy discussion of my ill-formed policy I summarize it as: use what you need, but don’t go overboard. Obviously we haven’t yet show the propensity to do this, but I’d like to see some sort of happy medium between PETA and the fat ass who eats a cow a week at Mc’Donald’s. On another somewhat related note I saw Denzel “Black Jesus” Washington kill a cat in the Book of Eli and then read about the uproar from intellectual elites who were appalled that such a scene could be shown in a movie in which DENZEL’S CHARACTER IS LIVING OFF THE LAND AFTER A NEAR APOCALYPSE!

Anyway, back to my original reason for even bringing up PETA. They released an ad encouraging feline birth control featuring actress/porn star Sasha Grey whom I profiled in an earlier blog post. So after all that mouthing off I finally get to the point: Sasha Grey, the Lebron James of the porn industry, is in a new PETA ad. Damn, can’t believe that took so long. Enjoy the pic of Sasha above and check out my earlier post for a video of her on Tyra. Check out Redtube.com if you want to see her at work. Hold on, you know what…now that I’m looking at these PETA provoked pictures I’d have to say f**k Redtube and all that crazy ass porn, the picture below of Kelis is off the chain! Damn I sound like a perv, but it’s 1am on a Friday night and I’m sitting on the couch blogging/watching a paid program selling Dean Martin DVDs.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Six months ago I quit my 8-5 “real job” as HNIC at a health care organization to…well, I don’t think I actually had a plan, but it had something to do with “focus on writing.” Since that time I’ve traveled a bit (blunts and brownies in Amsterdam, tracksuits and beer in England), watched a lot of daytime TV (don’t fuck with Steve Wilkos), written some cool stuff (blogged and guest blogged), promoted my book (cheap ass negroes always wanna borrow and not BUY a copy), masturbated in three hour intervals, argued with and choked my girlfriend, visited bars thrice weekly, did a little consulting work and started writing a free mixtape style book to be released when I damn well get ready to put it out. However, for about the past two months a brotha has been broke. But surprisingly it has not been that bad. Why? Because I’ve adjusted to doing “broke man thangs” such as:

- Using earwax as face moisturizer

- Asking friends if they need a ride and then charging their asses gas money once we get there

- Calling my old job and saying “Merry Christmas. When are the W-2s being mailed?”

- Calling my old job and saying “Happy New Year. Where the fuck my W-2 at?”

- Mixing ramen noodle seasoning with water to create salad dressing

- Choosing a different bartender with every drink in order to spread the pain from my no tip policy

- Wiping my ass with cotton balls after running out of toilet tissue

- Turning movie and dinner dates into Redbox and go to sleep with hunger pangs dates

- Washing dishes with hand soap

- Putting black tape on my car dash so I don’t see the engine light, the gas light, or the broken blinker light come on

I’m sure I’m not the only one struggling out here. Well, I guess I should hit up Craigslist for a new job or to sell some ass. Be easy, let’s get this money man!

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

We all know that 90 percent of work-related conferences are simply a time to get paid to network (which is the corporate term for “party”), pretend to be interested in boring ass panel discussions and most importantly finally nail that colleague you’ve been lusting over for the past year.

But Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa took the whole conference trip thing a bit further. He and seven aides went to Copenhagen, Denmark for the UN Climate Conference at a taxpayer cost of $120,000! I know Los Angeles is a large city, but it’s also struggling ecomically and to send seven aides and a mayor to a conference in Europe is crazy. He’s not a federal politician or even a state-wide office holder. He’s the god damn mayor! He fills potholes! He cuts ribbons when a new Starbucks opens in the hood! He speaks at elementary school graduations! He doesn’t even have to wear a suit to work! I can see logging into a web conference online to discuss a lot of things that will never get done, but to actually fly over there at the taxpayer’s expense…bullshit.

Listen, I love Copenhagen and fully understand the lure of the city. I highly recommend Americans visit, especially American males with an appreciation for women who next to the Dutch have developed the greatest lower bodies of any women in Europe through biking as the primary mode of transportation. Brown women, black women, white women, yellow women—Copenhagen is off the chain.

But back to Mayor V: Like many men he has a weakness for women and did some slick with a newscaster outside of his marriage (sorry, don’t care enough to go into detail but you can find it online), so perhaps he was thinking what I was thinking when it comes to conferences and more importantly Copenhagen. Anyway, I’m sure Mayor V “learned” a lot during his trip. I read that he spoke about making Los Angeles more bike friendly, which is great until you consider the beat up roads and number of drunken starlets that cruise the streets completely inebriated.

I’ll give the Mayor the benefit of the doubt, once he gives me a bit more information. Today I emailed his office with two simple questions: 1) What was accomplished during the mayor’s trip to the UN Climate Conference in Copenhagen? 2) What was the reasoning behind taking seven aides to Copenhagen at the expense of taxpayers?

I’ll be sure to update this post when and if I hear back from the Mayor’s office. Until then let’s have a look at what $120,000 can buy you in Los Angeles:

-The salary of 2.5 teachers for a year
-A six month coke binge that includes the opportunity to sniff it off a fat chick’s ass
-4,800 potholes could have been filled (obviously I’m big on LA potholes)
-A three year contract to pay three reformed gang members to mentor at-risk youth
-Free operations for 30 women to receive the new less invasive liposuction operation that freezes fat cells and creates an hourglass figure that I happen to like
-Salary for one doctor to provide a year of free and low cost services at a community health center
-1,200 Simon Cowell stretch t-shirts to donate to homeless men that want to show off their man boobs.
-The production cost of a dating reality show like “Ray of Love” that could potentially be aired on VH-1 and inspire countless women throughout the nation
-Cost to pay me to run LA for two years as mayor, at which point I’d do crazy shit like mandate that all film premiers be held in Compton until a big budget romantic comedy featuring people of color is finally produced

Well, I hope to hear back from the mayor soon. If not, fuck it…I live in San Diego, the other broke So Cal city.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Remember how I mentioned that I rarely do celebrity gossip, as I find it feminine and over-saturated? Well, I guess you’ll soon see me with a lip ring, divo walk and aerated mesh shirt. But seriously, I don’t consider this celebrity gossip as I am DISCUSSING the public’s reaction to certain stars.

OK, finally to the goddamn point: If almost any other female superstar had stolen a married man from up under his wife’s nose she would be crucified in the press. I could care less about the morality of Alicia Key’s and Swizz Beatz’s transgressions (word of the month), but why does she get a pass? How can the same woman who wrote “A Woman’s Worth,” “Girlfriend” and quite a few other uplifting songs for women steal someone another sista’s man, and get off scott free?

Can you imagine if Lil’ Kim had let Swizz Beatzz get a piece of that hairy muff (see above) and stolen him away? I can see the comments now : “We always knew she was a hoe,” “Somebody need to shank that bitch,” “Old nasty dirty ass tramp!”

But Alicia Keys is different. The comments have been more like: “She is so beautiful,” “Oh my God I can’t wait for her new CD,” and “She looks pretty good with Swizz Beatz.” Neeeeegro please!

Did I mention how I don’t give a damn about whatever relationship Alicia and Swizz have? After all, if you’ve read my book/short stories you know I have no room to talk. Shit, if Tiger Woods knew about my dirt he’d say “God damn nigga, u crazy.”

But! Why do some people get a pass while others get lambasted in the press? Who knows. But I will tell you one thing: Ladies be careful. There might be a woman lurking who will pull an Alicia Keys on you. In other words, she’ll uplift to a high point where your head is in the clouds, and then steal your man from right underneath your feet!

NOTE: I did not mention the public’s response to Swizz Beatz because as in numerous other cases he is a benefactor of a male dominated society. Damn, OK. I’m going to watch football and drink beer, gotta get my testosterone back up. Peace.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

SYNOPSIS: When college instructor Dewan Gibson leaves the Midwest for California, he expects to find a world of breast implants, beer and beaches. Instead he enters a secret and ill-fated romance with a Middle Eastern undergraduate. In this vivid and humorous memoir, Gibson describes his attempts to overcome his forbidden love affair by jumping into an office fling gone wrong (Tijuana Mornings), traveling across the world to Denmark in hopes of meeting “Ms. Booty Mama” (Arhus Ain’t for Lovers) and musing over the interracial relationships between his African-American uncles and “rural white women that wore 1980′s big bangs and resembled Guns N’ Roses groupies” (Too Much Tupac). Toeing the line between stable adulthood and post-college debauchery, Gibson presents a comically honest look at the frailty of modern relationships. Poignant, witty and at times downright hilarious–The Imperfect Enjoyment is a story of toxic relationships and the search for a second chance at love that enlightens and amuses as very few books do.

A post I read on Nakedwithsockson.com about the end of “black love” got me to thinking about the constant fear and alarmist reactions associated with black male/white female relationships. In fact, black men are with white women far less than other groups who date outside their race–only six percent of black males are married to a non-black woman. Most interracial relationships are among Asian women and white men, as 22 percent of Asian women have a non-Asian wife. Also, 15 percent of Hispanic men are married to someone outside their race. Yet, black men-white women relationships continue to be the most controversial. If you don’t believe me find the nearest black woman and ask her to name five black male celebrities that are married to white women, I bet she’ll rattle off the number in a second. Or just look at the black-flack given to Wesley Snipes (how can you dog Nino Brown!), Taye Diggs (Nas Lil Scrappy called him a coon one of his earlier CDs) and of course Tiger Woods.

In spite of these numbers we don’t hear the Asian of Latino communities talking about the end of intraracial love. There are a few billion people on this earth, if you must find someone of your own race your options are damn near unlimited. Or if you’re a black woman, consider dating outside your race. Only two percent of black women do so, which is far less than the other races. Regardless, black love is not ending and black people will not become extinct.

So from where does this controversy stem? Obviously the media is the main culprit. Since the days of that hateful cinematic “masterpiece” that made black men look like animals preying on white female flesh there has been a fear of black male-white female relationships. The black community then adopted and changed these fears to the present theme of “we’re losing all our black men.” Bottom line, it just ain’t happening. Like Jay-Z said “Men lie, women lie–numbers don’t.” And if the numbers increase who gives a damn.

If you want to read more about interracial relationships check out my tips to surviving an interracial relationship amongst the stares, often troublesome molding of cultures and flat-out hate from “friends” and family. And for the scholars out there you might want to check out a book that I skimmed through by Kellian Craig-Henderson entitled Black Men in Interracial Relationships, I’m sure you can buy it on Amazon.

Damn, that was a short social commentary. Well just one more thing: I don’t capitalize the terms white and black because they are only symbolic of color and not culture, plus its grammatical incorrect to do so (Not that I’m a constant stickler). However, I do capitalize terms such as African-American and Caucasian, which symbolize ethnicity. Peace out and let the Cablasian brother Tiger breathe a little bit.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

When I first read that Lou Dobbs was on Telemundo and said to Latinos “I am one of your greatest friends,” I figured The Onion had taken over Politico.com. Keep in mind this is the same man who as a CNN journalist falsely accused Latinos of bringing Leprosy into the US (is that shit even still around?) and generally bagged on immigrants as the primary source of American problems. Not to mention he was foolish enough to give televised credence to the dumb ass President Obama birther movement. I guess now that’s he’s contemplating a run for president in 2012 Lou Dobbs is becoming Luis Dobbs. Punk ass Lou Dobbs…watch him get his ass handed to him by the President of La Raza.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

NOTE: THIS POST WAS WRITTEN LONG BEFORE THE SOMALI PIRATES BEGAN EXECUTING INNOCENT PEOPLE. I DO NOT AGREE WITH OR CONDONE VIOLENCE. THIS POST SIMPLE EXAMINES THE ROOTS OF PIRATING. AGAIN, THE VIOLENCE AND KILLINGS ARE INEXCUSABLE AND WRONG.

For obvious reasons I feel a sense of solidarity with my beanpole Somali brothers. Despite living in impoverished anarchy they find a way to survive. I wrote about the Somali pirate issue for another website (thatminoritything.com) and the piece generated a lot of comments/controversy. Some readers felt I was siding with “Muslim terrorists,” while others could sympathize with their struggle. Well, I’ll leave it up to you to decide.

SOMALI PIRATES FAN CLUB

I often find myself rooting for the underdog. When the arrogant New England Patriots had their undefeated season ruined I cheered for days. When the mighty Los Angeles Lakers got whooped in the 2004 NBA Finals, the text messages of sarcastic condolences I sent to Lakers fans felt almost orgasmic. Naturally my connection with the little guy is extended to the Somali pirates.

In contrast to what some recent media reports have stated the Somali pirates, despite some wearing traditional garb and beards that would make many Americans call the FBI, are not Islamic militants. According to a BBC report many of the pirates are former fishermen who had their livelihood threatened by illegal fishing after the Somali government collapsed in 1991.

As the Somali government fell the country erupted in lawlessness and various foreign owned vessels, primarily European and Asian, rushed into Somali waters, bullied the locals and took the resources. This would go on for years despite local fishermen appealing to the United Nations for support. As is the case with most problems in Africa that are not focused on by Caucasian entertainers, the international community remained idle.

Two European companies, Swiss firm Achair Partners and Italian waste management firm Progresso even had the gall to dump tons of nuclear and toxic waste into Somali waters as part of a secret deal with corrupt Somali political leader Ali Mahdi Mohamed. They were exposed by a 1997 joint investigation between Italian newspaper Famiglia Cristiana and Greenpeace, but again nothing was done.

Years later, after the 2004 tsunami caused the tide and tainted water to rise in the Gulf of Aden, the UK Times reported a number of Somali locals had been sickened with illnesses common to people exposed to radiation and toxic waste. The European companies, despite dumping the waste that caused these illnesses, were not penalized.

In addition to lack of employment opportunities and environmental discrimination, the governments and corporations that are taking financial losses should make one feel an accord with the Somali pirates.

The Chinese government (who apparently only tolerate technological piracy) sent warships to the area after they nearly lost a cargo boat. Ironically, this is the very same Chinese government that has trained fighter pilots and sold weapons to the genocide-loving Sudanese government.

Also, the oppressive government of Saudi Arabia, which paid a $3 million ransom to recover an oil tanker, has a long history of funding terrorist operations throughout the world.

Similar points can be made regarding a number of European countries that have historically raped the region and are now suffering financial calamities from pirate attacks.

But as is the case with most Robin Hood stories, all may not end well for the Somali pirates.

Recently a vacationing French family that had been warned not to sail through the troubled Somali waters was kidnapped. French troops attempted to save the family with a hostile ambush. This led to gunfire and the death of the French father who had previously blogged about the need to not let the pirates disrupt his trip across African waters. Early reports indicate he may have been a victim of friendly fire.

As we have all heard three Somali pirates were killed by U.S. Navy snipers after holding an American naval captain at gunpoint. According to the Los Angeles Times family members of the pirates and Somali elders attempted to negotiate a truce before the shooting. This deal would include the safe release of the American captain without a ransom, on condition that the Somali offenders be prosecuted at home and not detained by the Americans.

Yet President Obama, perhaps having woke up on the right side of the bed that morning and needing to “pass” his first national security test authorized the use of lethal force. In typical American style and despite the relative peaceful endings to most Somali pirate highjackings, the peace deal was dismissed with aggression that will only lead to more violence.

For the next few days many will feel good knowing that the mighty Americans save the day. Little attention will be given to conditions that birthed the Somali pirates or to the future hostages who will become victims of retaliatory violence. Like most underdogs the Somali pirates had their day in the sun. The run is over for the little guys, but I’m still cheering.

-Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

BE A LADY DAMMIT!

“Think like a man, act like a woman.” Bullshit. Can you think like your gay and be straight? Sounds awfully tough. Can you think like a loser and be a winner? Only if you hit the lottery. If you think like a stereotypical man (i.e. focused on pussy and new pussy) you’ll end up attracting the same sort of id-driven selfish person. You can never go wrong by being a lady. A lady—classy, smart, entrances to all body orifices off limits until the guy actually feels something for you—is a rare find today. Let all the other women sink down to our level and do typical men shit. Remain a classy lady and you’ll find a quality partner in the long run. And just like anything else being a lady starts with your thoughts that eventually turn into actions.

STOP FOCUSING ON YOUR BODY

So often women focus on exercising their bodies, but forget to exercise their minds. A big ass and/or nice titties are interesting to men for a maximum of about 18 months. Then some other woman with or without a big ass becomes more interesting. So you need to have a little substance. Put it this way: we can all agree that Halle Berry and Jennifer Lopez are both more physically attractive than Michelle Obama. And in his day President Obama might have even boned girls that looked like Halle and Jennifer. But who did he stick with? The average looking woman with a deep mind. Focus on your body too much and most often you’ll find a sorry ass man focused on the same.

CALM YO’ ASS DOWN

Women meet someone they think is nice and don’t know how to act! Despite not having a ring on her finger or even one in layaway, the woman will refer to her BOYFRIEND as “my hubby.” Even a good man gets scared of this label. Not only about the idea of marriage, but simply because it means we have to hide our skeletons further back in the closet. The idealized image of the “perfect man” is impossible to live up to so sometimes we’ll just run off or subconsciously start doing dumb shit just to say “Hey now, I’m not all that.” But a sorry ass man will play up to the “perfect man” image and even embrace it, up until you catch him with his head all up in some other woman’s ass.

What, did you expect more? This shit ain’t a science. Try the three things I mentioned and thank me later. By the way I have no training in marital therapy or anything remotely similar. However I do have an advanced degree in Communication Studies, which basically means I couldn’t get a job after college and wanted a couple-few more years to check out higher education ass. Best of luck ma.

Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

One of my least favorite terms is “real talk.” Often said by young men wearing fake jewels, it gives the impression that everything else the speaker says is questionable. Besides the term “fareal,” especially when spoken by a black person with a high-pitched voice, is more than adequate to describe one’s seriousness and honesty. So let’s not rebuild the wheel—stick with “fareal.”

The next term on my hit list is “swagger,” which denotes that one has a certain “je ne sais quoi.” This term has a certain feminine quality to it, at best it is metrosexual. Come on man, a rapper named Fabolous [sic] talking about his swagger…I’ll pass—which means a lot considering I wear skinny jeans. Again, a term from long ago is much more profound. Simply put one is “fly” if he or she has an attraction that cannot be pinpointed as physical beauty or charisma. Better yet let’s refer to him or her as “The Whip.” Damn!!!

Next up, as I discussed in a previous post, is the phrase “no homo” Although it is meant to confirm that the speaker is not making homosexual overtures to the listener (for example, “What up homey? I like how those jeans hang off your ass…no homo.”), the phrase reeks of insecure masculinity. How about using a much more appropriate phrase: “exit only”? This phrase not only confirms that speaker is heterosexual, but also provides important bodily information. Confirming that the speaker’s rectum and anus are only used to aid in pushing one’s stool out the body and do not allow foreign objects to enter, such as penises or even an index finger when inserting a laxative or removing a dingleberry.

Lastly, just to show I’m not a hip-hop hater I propose a completely new slang phrase: “I LIKES THAT!” This phrase was invented by my 50-something year old father and means that one really-really like a particular something. “I LIKES THAT” is great in that with the simple addition of an ungrammatical plural “s,” it denotes that the speaker definitely likes but DOES NOT LOVE whatever he or she is speaking about. We all know rappers don’t love them hoes so the potential for this phrase is unlimited. I can hear it now being spoken by the hip-hop masses “I LIKES them hoes!” Hell yeah—real talk “I LIKES” is the next big slang phrase.

Dewan W. Gibson, Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

Told that cat not to drink Henny!

I tend to adopt a “try anything once” attitude when bored. Past exploits have included sticking my hand in a ceiling fan and adding voiceover play-by-play to my favorite porn clips. But recently I decided to grab life by the elephant tusks and attend a Tax Enough Already (TEA) protest in Oceanside, California.

I arrived at the event and nearly chickened out minutes after parking my car. Something about integrating a sea of angry white people felt dangerous. Not to say I’d be completely comfortable around a couple thousand angry black people, but I could at least be sure the police would be there—ready and willing to use excessive force at the slightest provocation.

After a long 15 minutes I decided to step out the car, albeit with precautions. I gathered my digital camera to identify potential attackers, a mobile phone to call 911 and tied my trainers extra tight. I figured if all else failed I’d Usain Bolt away from the ruckus. After all, you never know when chants of “NO MORE TAXES!” can morph into “NO MORE NEGROS!”

I finally made it down to the amphitheater and felt relieved. Yes the crowd was all white, but they were all middle to Larry King age white people. Basically the Walker, Texas Ranger demographic.

I approached the various booths staffed by political candidates and t-shirt salespeople hoping to strike a friendly conversation with someone. The future leaders and political hacks occasionally smiled my way, but after a quick scan of my black and gasp—young Barack Obama like appearance—they quickly turned away.

In fact Christine Rubin and her staff, who is a candidate for California’s 77^th Assembly District, flat-out ignored me whenever I came within five feet of them. What a shame considering that as my potential district state representative I wanted to hear her ideas. Now I will forever know her as the candidate with Social African-American Anxiety Disorder (Full Disclosure/Update: Mrs. Rubin did send an excuse and gracious apology after my rambling email criticizing the snub).

Conservative radio host Rick Roberts kicked off the event with an enthusiastic welcome. While I do not share his views, I must admit that Roberts has a great voice for radio and television voiceovers. Somebody get this man a gig on Family Guy! Now I wish I could remember more of what he actually said, but the surrounding anti-Obama posters stole my attention. Right-wing artistic creativity was on full display with effigies of President Obama that included the term “thug” or the more descriptive term of “Chicago thug.”

Outside of being offended it also struck me how “thug” has become a 21^st century euphemism for “nigger” among closet racists. Have a look at any online message board that features a controversial black athlete or entertainer and you are bound to see the new “it word.” In fact, ESPN no longer allows the term on its website. Interestingly enough it is also the term that TEA Party founder Mark Williams used to describe President Obama in the video below. Sorry I forgot, he actually said “an Indonesian Muslim turned welfare thug and a racist-in-chief.”

Even the First Lady was posterized. I can handle the lampooning of Barack, but Michelle should be off limits. Her main job is to hug foreign dignitaries and make sure Barack doesn’t wear those high-waist Jessica Simpson jeans again. Leave her out of the political shenanigans.

The event continued with an appearance by Congressman Darrell Issa. Representative Issa, a pudgy shiny-haired man of Lebanese descent and just a couple shades lighter than our “socialist leader,” seemed hurried in his statements. Actually, he seemed a bit like the occasional weed smoker who accidentally stumbles into a meth party. Getting high is a thing many of us know and maybe even enjoy, but smoking your teeth out is a bit too far over the line of innocent youthful discretion.

Issa simply couldn’t match the amount of hate in the crowd. He tried to raise his voice to drive home a few points—he even threw in a joke that’s not a joke about Obama—but when it came time to put his mouth on pipe and suck, the man bitched out. And I think he knew it. Minutes after Issa left the stage I spotted him making a near sprint for the exits.

The event dragged on with a very detailed health care speech from Dr. Gary Gonsalves, founder of Stop Taxing Us. Outside of audience banter by host Rick Roberts and a rotund lady next to me who kept yelling “Stay away from my children!” in response to Obama’s plan to address the nation’s schools, the crowd’s energy seemed to drift.

California gubernatorial candidate Chelene Nightingale tried to add energy with screams about “losing our freedom,” but she was outshined by an even angrier audience member. Apparently he did not agree with Nightingale’s claim that she was the American Independent Party’s pick to run for governor and he let her know. Sounding like Apostle E.F., the heavy man with the sweaty beard shouted “That’s a lie! You were not picked by AIP!” Eventually the police took his big ass away without force.

The event was soon over without a major ruckus. While a significant portion of the attendees seemed outright racist, most of the attendees’ views seemed typical of a party out of power—conspiracy theories and unsubstantiated rants about losing their country. They never said what specific freedoms have been taken away under President Obama or put a dollar amount on their alleged higher taxes, simply because the data does not exist.

As the evening ended I even began to understand the frustration that arises when your party is not in power. I thought back to my anger with George W. Bush and remembered wishing that he had choked on a slightly larger pretzel. I even fantasized about Condeleeza Rice wearing those thigh-high boots in front of Vice President Cheney, hoping she’d disrupt his unreliable ticker and take out evil doer number two.

Yet, I never ever actually wanted them dead and I believe the overwhelming majority of conservatives feel the same way about President Obama. Well, at least until he proposes immigration reform.

-Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment

I know I make jokes about Big Leroy in San Quentin and allude to my fear of having my anal virginity taken while incarcerated, but of course there are actually people in the pen doing hard time. And statiscally speaking most of us know at least one person in there right now. Well, as a special post I’ve included poems from my Uncle Tony aka Skip Donahue, who is doing time in Noble Correctional Institute. Growing up we called his black ass Uncle Boo and he was instrumental in shaping me and my brother’s sense of humor (though these poems are serious). Within the last few months we started corresponding again and hopefully we’ll soon have a buckwild ass and titties welcome home party. Until then drop Skip a comment and I’ll mail out what you all say. Thanks!

Yeah I'd Say She's a Whooty

Big news from our #1 co-conspriator Israel: Leonardo Dicaprio and Israeli supermodel Bar Rafeli brokeup and some drunken Israeli youths talked shit about Obama. One even had the nerve to yell white power (though I bet he just finished partying to hip-hop music)! Shout out to Leo for doing the young George Clooney, but thumbs down to the young people on this video. We need to send George Jefferson over there to straighten shit up. I know Sammy Davis Jr. is rolling over in his grave…

Rupaul as BOTH of the Obamas

Cleve Jones who worked with gay rights activist Harvey Milk has announced a march on Washington scheduled for October 11. The march will focus on marriage rights for GLBT community. While I support gay marriage 100 percent I believe they need to be a bit more aggressive with their methods in gaining equality. Imagine if they created a Black Panther-esque hardcore gay militant group that would just slap the shit out of whoever disagreed with their lifestyle. Just as the Civil Rights Movement was balanced between the nonviolent methods of Dr. King and the self-defense methods of Malcolm X, the gays need diversity in their movement. Whatever the case I recommend that Rupaul be the leader of this group. Although many think Ru-Dogg is soft because he cross-dresses, he’s actually about 6’5″ and can probably beat some ass (not like that! get ur mind out the gutter). So best of luck in October to the gay community and also to us that are pro-EQUALITY. And remember I kid around because I care, which is why I had to post this “Men on Fitness” video from In Living Color.

That's A Virile MF

1) Remind us that in order to name our children Barack and Michelle we need to have at least two kids.

2) Start a hip-hop fertility beef. T.I. has six kids, 50 Cent only has one. Is the East Coast gonna let the South run shit like that?

3) Accept that the little boy living in your house who calls you by your first name is not your child. Go out and make a baby that’s going to call you “Dad” as opposed to “Deandre.”

4) Send an alert out to all blacks in college that reads: Warning…unless we increase our population growth rates we cannot continue to have these poetry jams every week. It is extremely important that brothas with kufis and secret white girl fetishes have an opportunity to express themselves.

5) Black church membership is dwindling. Creflo Dollar needs to pay off his private jet and Bishop Eddie Long will tell you body shirts and Bentleys don’t come cheap. Please remember these “men of the good book” need mass support from brainwashed loyal African American parishoners of limited means.

Not a Rich Pastor, but has a MEAN SHAG