Blackhumouristpress's Blog

May 20, 2010

2010 Other Census

Filed under: Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 9:18 pm
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How many people reside in your household?

How many people do you wish really did not reside in your household?

Who would you say is the person most responsible for contributing to society in your household?

How many dependants do you have?

How many dependants do you have that are able bodied but are apathetic, have very little drive and feel that the shelter and food that you supply, will go on forever?

How many hours of television do you watch?

How much of what you watched do you feel that you retained a day later?  A week later? A month later?

Is everything you watched a year ago almost brand new to you?

Do the things on television have an impact on your consummation of non-essential items of your expendable income?

Do you find that you have blurred what is essential and non-essential and you have DVDs for every work out program, weight losing methods, money making from home without investing a single cent schemes?

Are you more likely to eat Burger King due to the hip and humorous purveyor of processed food filled with fat and hormones?

Do you find that your female offspring are developing at the age of seven due to hormones injected into every former living thing that is possible to ingest?

Do you smoke?

Do you smoke only at bars, only when you drink, only when your other friends smoke?

Do you smoke cigars?

Do you believe that smoking cigars is a reasonable substitution for the desire to have a penis in your mouth?

If male, have you ever had a penis in your mouth?

If female, do you really want a penis in your mouth?

How often would you say you exercise?

How often would you say you go to a gym and spend the lion’s share of your time talking to that lonely person you befriended and since you only had thirty minutes scheduled to workout, you actually only average twelve minutes at best?

Do you wash your hands after urination or defecation?

Do you wipe until you no longer see anything on the paper?

How many wipes would that be usually?

How often do you have a bowel movement?

Do you notice corn or nuts the next day?

What race would you say you are?

Are you white and feel whiter than other whites because you come from Northern European stock such as Norway, Sweden, Holland, Germany, that one region of France that is really close to Germany, England, Wales, Scotland and the Shetlands, Finland, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania?

If you’re white but are Slavic, Italian, Romanian, Bulgarian, Albanian, Spanish, Portuguese, Greek and find that you tan without burning, have a lot of conventional sex without much thought to it, do you feel less white than the northern Europeans?

If Spanish or Portuguese from Portugal, do you feel you are white, Latin or Hispanic?

Do you feel the conquistadors really fucked things up by going to the new world and mixing with slaves and natives and then teaching them Spanish or Portuguese only to hear that they are Latino or Hispanic?

If from Spain, is the lisp necessary any longer?

Are you African-American?

Are you black?

Have you ever been to Africa or are you ever planning on going there?

Have you ever gone into a hair salon owned by Africans and had to endure phone calls and chit-chat without other Africans who were braiding your hair who seemed to be speaking English but you did not understand a word they said? Did it suddenly occur to you that you really were not like them after all?

 Did it take longer than ten hours to get this done?

If you are the product of a white parent and a black parent, do you feel you are white or black or European/Caucasian or African/black?

What do you think the president really considers himself?

What do you think his live in mother-in-law thinks he is?

If you black and mixed with Aleuts, Hispanics, Latinos, Asians from the former regions known as the orient of Orientals or Asians from India, Pakistan, please just choose black… It’s just less complicated in the long run and Asian parents really get nervous about their children mixing with any race or ethnicity other than their own.  Thank you in advance for that.

Do you have a venereal disease?

What are the chances you believe that you could really contract a venereal disease?

Would you drink out of a stranger’s cup or eat off their plate?

Refer back to the question before the last one?

How often are you having sex?

How often is this alone?

How often with another person?

How often is it pleasurable?

How often is it just a mission of mercy and you’d rather be watching television?

If asked by the government, would you relocate to New Jersey?

What religion are you?

Are you really religious or just go because you feel that your kids need to fear something other than you and the police  so that they don’t fuck things up later when you’re too old to stop them?

Did you know that the Protestant church in the United States continues to splinter and grow like the embryos that they are trying so hard to save?

How much porn are you viewing on a regular basis?

If you are protestant, it is okay to deny.  If you are Roman Catholic, it is okay to lie about viewing young boys and this applies to men and women.

Do you believe that religion is the opiate of the masses?

Do you believe that equality is still possible and that you can designate a few people to regulate the equality among all?

Would you be willing to relocate to North Korea or Cuba?

Do you believe that 72 virgins would actually find you attractive in the afterlife?  Do you believe they could opt out because you did not read the fine print before you decided to forfeit your life to destroy great evil?

Do you find that you have an interest in flying airplanes but really don’t care to learn how to land them?

Do you believe it is possible for there to be any sort of great evil in Greenland or those Canadian areas named after dead Englishmen that wouldn’t have bothered to have even visited Canada in the first place?

Do you believe it is possible for flying saucers to visit anywhere else except in Arizona and New Mexico?

Speaking of Arizona… Do you feel that it is possible for the United States to actually carry on without illegal aliens in the work force?

Yeah?  Who will cook, clean tables, dishes, mow lawns, watch children, clean houses, pick up that old water heater that you wanted to throw away and the city told you that you had to pay to have it dumped?

If you answered whites of northern European descent or those other ones that tan, drink wine and are not hung up on sex, do you still believe in Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy or claims of Oral Roberts, Jim Jones or David Koresh?

Do you feel we should just give Arizona back to Mexico and let them sort that shit out?

Would you consider yourself part of the one percent of the nation that is insulated from all economic disasters?

Are you part of that next class that thinks they are part of that one percent and then they see what Oprah makes per year and secretly conclude that you have contributed to the making of a monster?

Are you part of the lower class but could never bring yourself to say that and so you go along with working class?

Are you unemployed and really don’t care to find a job because someone, somewhere is going to figure this out for you?

Do you believe that you are more affluent today than you were ten years ago?

Do you believe that there is less disparity among men and women, races, ethnic groups than in the past?

Do you believe that drugs may have brought us all a little closer than we might have been without them?

Thank you for your time.  Your answers will help to make the future a brighter and more efficient place to live.

May 11, 2010

Welcome Home, Soldier or It’s a Thag’s Life

Filed under: Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 9:22 pm
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Kilbourn came back from two tours of duty in Afghanistan without much psychological damage and his whole body intact.  Being an Army Ranger, Kilbourn had been really gung-ho about finding and defeating the Taliban in Afghanistan.  After seeing the situation and living it, Kilbourn understood that it was not going to be easy to flush out the enemy as it was all to easy to cross the border into Pakistan and disappear for a while.  Kilbourn suspected that if the Soviets, who were ruthless and not too concerned with human rights and polls at home, could not defeat the Taliban or the former Mujahedeen, it was going to be damn near impossible for the United States to win both the hearts and minds and whatever else needed to be won in order to feel good about having gone there in the first place.

                Kilbourn landed at O’Hare in Chicago and had his sister take him to Superdawg so that he could have a really good Chicago hot dog, fries and a shake.  A group of friends gathered at Kilbourn’s apartment on the north side of Chicago to celebrate the fact that he was home and had not been killed or blown apart into nonfunctioning pieces.

                 The next day, Kilbourn stood out on the patio that faced the street and had a cigarette in the warm spring sun.  It was nearly noon and it felt good to sleep the whole night without interruption, in a bed, with sheets and a pillow and not have to worry about dying… So much.

                A man, who looked to be a solid mélange of several different races and ethnicities, drove up on a bicycle made to resemble a low rider vehicle.  It had long forks and little wheels and a banana seat.  For a boy of twelve, it would have fantastic ride.  For an unemployed, felon on drugs, the bicycle was a bit ridiculous. 

                Avery had been out of Cook County Jail for almost two weeks and had just been piss tested the day before and so he thought it was safe to indulge in some recreational drugs.  The black Jeep Wrangler that was jacked up and full of military type stickers on the back caught Avery’s attention.  He noticed that the driver side window was down enough to put a hand through.  Avery got off his bike and reached in through the window to grab a smart looking ball cap with pins and patches on it from the Army.  It belonged to Kilbourn and had the staff sergeant patch on it and pins.  Avery grabbed a handful of toll money from the cup holder and stuffed it into his pocket and drove off with Kilbourn’s smelly military hat cocked to the left.  Kilbourn ran down the stairs, barefoot with no shirt on and a pair of jeans.  Kilbourn never yelled.  He decided he would tackle the thief off of the bicycle and then beat him to show him his displeasure with the fact that he had to go fight for people like him.  Kilbourn thought that a better punishment for a man who would steal a hat and pocket change out of a vehicle, should be to have the hands removed by the Taliban.  The Taliban would be able to dissuade the drug addicted thief from stealing again at least with his hands.

                Avery tried to make a call on his cell phone while riding the bicycle  towards a mechanic’s garage.  Avery was within the fence when Kilbourn caught up with him.  Several men walked out wondering what it was that Kilbourn wanted, half naked and out of breath.  Two of the four men had wrenches in they’re hands.  It had been a few weeks since they were robbed by a white guy with no shirt on and they were all curious as to what it was that Kilbourn wanted.  Kilbourn sensed the situation was going to deteriorate and so he defused the situation the best he could.

                “Did you guys see a dog come by here?’

                The men shook their heads as Avery got off of the bike and staggered inside the shop.  Kilbourn went back to his house and called the police and within thirty minutes, a squad car showed up.  The officers were more annoyed than anything else to be dealing with the theft of a ball cap.

                “So it was a baseball hat?”

                “No not a Cubs or a Sox, hat…  It was my staff sergeant’s hat that made it all through two tours of fucking duty in Afghanistan.  Dudes with fucking bathrobes and towels on their heads were trying their level best to fucking annihilate me and I make it all the way home and some fucking crack head reaches into my car and steals my shit.  It’s the principle of the whole thing, man.  How would you feel if you just got home after fighting for fuckheads like that and then you get robbed?”

                Officer Timms thought about it.  He had served in the Desert Storm and had been in Kuwait and remembered what it was like to trudge through the desert while the sky rained oil.  Officer Timms remembered thinking that not one damn person except his mother seemed to know or care about what he had to go through in the Middle East.  Officer Timms offered to drive over with Kilbourn to try and retrieve the hat.  The two officers were about to get into the squad car when Avery drove towards them on the bicycle, wearing the Army hat cocked to the side while talking on his cell phone.  Avery soon figured out that the officers were chasing him and picked up his speed on the bike.  Avery couldn’t have peddled fast enough to elude Kilbourn.  Kilbourn sprinted like a lion on the Serengeti towards a wildebeest.  Kilbourn tackled Avery and removed the hat from his head.  The two officers caught up and slapped the cuffs on Avery.  Avery’s eyes were glazed on his forehead were the words, “Thag Life” in gothic blue letters.

                “Thag Life?”

                “Shh-damn… I wad fucked up when I got the tattoo.  It’s sposta say T-H-U-G…” said Avery.

                “Doesn’t say much for our education system when a thug can’t even spell out what he represents,” said Timms.

                “True dat…” said Avery, while shaking his up and down in agreement.

May 4, 2010

Detroit’s Sexiest Cop

Kate saw a poster of Kwame Kilpatrick, looking down with a stern face, pointing his index finger at anyone looking at him with the words, “Detroit Wants You”.  At the time Kate was working with inner city kids in an after school program where she supervised playing and doing homework until it was absolutely necessary for the children to go home.  Kate was the epitome of whiteness with her reddish blond hair and freckles.  She stood out among the African-American children who were part of the after school program.

            Kate had gone to Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan and had a bachelor’s degree in Art.  Kate loved art and had done a semester in Paris so that she could study the old churches throughout France.  Kate found it nearly impossible to find a job as an art teacher anywhere in the metro Detroit area and so resorted to substitute teaching and running an after school program to make ends meet.

            Around the age of twenty one, Kate had married and had a son.  The marriage didn’t last and the father took off never to be seen again.  Kate raised her son Jim alone.  Jim wore sagging stove pipe jeans and skate boarding shoes.  He usually wore several different t shirts related to skateboarding, his hair was long, and he made homemade tattoos and watched a lot of Jackass on MTV when he wasn’t out near the parking garage of their downtown Detroit condominium doing the same tricks over and over on his skateboard. 

            Kate was distraught over her under employment, her teenaged son who hated the world and the void of a man in her life.  She looked at a picture of the mayor of Detroit and said to her, “Fuck it…  I’ll be a cop”.

            Within eighteen months, Kate had become a police officer for the Detroit Police.  Her son told her that he hated cops but didn’t hate her so much.  This was while she tried to show off her smart new uniform to him while he played X-Box and ate a Little Caesar’s pizza.

            Kate had talked to a few girlfriends that were doing internet dating and so she decided to give it a try.  The first half dozen dates were a total flop.  The men were either intimidated by the fact that Kate was a police officer or they were drawn to her only for that reason.  Two stated on the first and only dates, that they wanted to be handcuffed.

            “So um…  Do you have your cuffs with you?”

            “Um…  Do you have your computer with you?”

            Kate became despondent over her prospects but then received a nice message from a fitness instructor from Farmington Hills.  The man, who was thirty five years of age, was in shape and youthful looking.  Tom sent thoughtful messages and asked appropriate questions and had offered to take Kate out to dinner in Greektown and then to a Red Wings playoff game.  It sounded like a great first date for Kate.

            The day of the date, Kate was nervous and preoccupied.  She had detail near Comerica Park where the Detroit Tigers played.  There happened to be an afternoon game and Kate was sent to keep an eye on traffic near the ball park.  People filed in and out uneventfully for the most part.  It was in the middle of the fifth inning that Kate noticed a man pissing on the east side of the Detroit Opera House.

            Kate was sitting in her squad car listening to the Tigers game on the radio when she noticed a man with a Tigers jersey on, running towards the opera house.  In bright sun shine of an afternoon game, a man facing the wall with VERLANDER across his back, pissed for a good two minutes.  Once finished, Kate was standing nearby to make the arrest.

            “With all the shit that goes on in this town, you’re arresting me for pissing?”

            “Sir, if everyone pissed on the opera house, what would that building smell like?  Huh?  Better yet, why don’t I invite everyone from the opera house to come and piss on your house?  Would you like that?”

            “Come on, ma’am…  Cut me some slack.  I never even had a parking ticket before.  I been taking Dianetics for some health stuff and I can’t hold it and there was a million guys waiting in line by the bleachers and so I had to make a snap decision.  It’s my fault.  I met the boys for a few before the game at Chelios’ place and then they kept buying at the park and well with the pills to flush my kidneys, there was no way to hold it.”

            “Did you say Dianetics?”

            The pleading fell on deaf ears.  Kate took the culprit in and he was charged with drunk and disorderly.  After filling out the paper work, Kate went home to get ready for her date.  At first she put on a skirt with a tight blouse that showed her tight stomach and perky boobs and then she changed into a pair of jeans and a loose long sleeved top.  She then put on two dresses and tried to decide if she would wear her hair down or up or use a clip to keep the bangs up.  There was a lot of agony as she readied herself for the date.  Her son blasted songs from the Insane Clown Posse in the next room.

            “Jimbo… can you turn that down.  It’s so loud…”

            “Fuck wine coolers, fuck chickens, fuck ducks, everybody in your crew sucks…”

            Kate tried to curl her hair at the tips slightly and felt that it was looking a little to Mary Tyler Moore and it was getting too late to straighten it.  The fowl language and audio level of the song being blasted from Jim’s room was beginning to compound Kate’s frustration.

            “Turn that shit down or I will fucking break it… Do you hear me?”

            “Fuck your mom, fuck your mom’s momma…  Fuck the Beastie Boys and the Dalai Lama…”

            Kate came into the bedroom and ripped the electrical cord from the wall.  Jim had been laying in bed zoning out after sniffing a rag full of turpentine with some of his skate boarding buddies near Hart Plaza.  Jim had his eyes closed and was picturing himself telling everyone in his life to go fuck themselves as he listened to the song, Fuck the World.

            “I swear I will send you to a military school if you don’t show me some respect very soon, little man.  I’ve about had it with your sulking, angry attitude.  What the hell do you have to be so upset about?  I’m out busting my ass to provide a place for you and all I get is grief.  Keep it up and see what I do.  You’ll have some sadistic former drill instructor with his foot so far up your ass; you’ll swear you can taste leather… Keep testing me, son.”

            And with that, Kate slammed the door.  She wore a cute pair of pumps and a tight dress that showed off her figure but did not come across as slut like.  Kate grabbed a cab and was at the restaurant in Greektown in minutes.  Kate sat on a bench in the waiting area and prayed that each man who came through the door was either her date or not.  After a few minutes, Kate was blind sided.  Her date approached from the opposite direction.  He had camped out early at the bar so that he could see her walk in first.  He walked up and smiled at Kate and extended his hand.  Kate felt that her date looked better in person than in the photo on the dating site.  Kate kept looking at the man who looked so familiar to her as they dipped their French bread in olive oil and waited for their wine.  Kate’s hair was down and she wore make up and lip stick and looked very much like a lady than a female cop.  Kate listened to the man speak and studied his face until it all came together for her.  She posed a question while they toasted their glasses of Greek red wine.

            “So how do you feel about the opera, Mr. Verlander?”

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