Holler If Ya Hear Me

Okay:

So, I'm sick of pretending. This single shit is getting old. I'm going to marry the next pretty woman I meet who is not an absolute nut job.

This came to me while I was brushing my teeth this morning.

I guess the seed was planted the other day while I was out running. I was running along, jamming to my iPod (Q-Tip's new mixtape is off the fucking chain!!!!), when I saw my homeboy's wife and kids. I stopped and talked for a while.

I was awe-struck by how beautiful his family is. Jealous, in fact. His children are intelligent, well-spoken and delightful. His wife is just as sweet as can be. I wondered for a moment whether or not I have been missing the big picture here. Maybe this is what it's all about. Maybe the thing I have been running from all these years is exactly what I need in my life. Commitment. Responsibility. Companionship. Love.

That sounded gay while I was typing it.

I am a loner. There's no denying that. I'd prefer to spend roughly 80% of my day alone. But maybe that's just because I haven't met someone who I'd like to share that time with.

More gayness.

So, I'm driving home from the track contemplating all these big questions. Trying to fight the feeling. I went to the crib, knocked back a few cold ones, wrote a misogynistic blog and went to sleep. But when I woke up I was still thinking about it. Then it occurred to me.

I grew up in a single parent household. My first prolonged exposure to a married couple was with my mother and my stepfather, whom she married my sophomore year in college. I don't even know what love looks like. All I have to go on is the movies. And rap music, to a certain extent. Neither of which are good points of reference.

Things started clicking. My stepfather is well-to-do. That explains why I think I can't get married until I'm financially stable. My mother never brought any boyfriends around when I was young. That explains my aversion to introducing women to my daughter.

Independently, neither is a bad idea. But I have gone one step further and developed a general antipathy towards relationships, using pragmatism as window dressing for what is essentially a love phobia.

So gay.

If we go deeper, maybe one might infer that I intentionally overspend and ignore debt to postpone financial stability, which, based on my current salary, is quite attainable.

Deeper still. Perhaps I use my daughter as an excuse to not invest in potential partners.

Super gay.

To be sure, I have not been with a woman who I felt like I could be serious about in years. Maybe I never have been. And maybe that's not an accident. Maybe I seek out women I know I could never commit to, and then complain about them in a tongue-and-cheek blog to hide my tracks from myself, but in reality it's all just a thinly veiled cry for help.

Clay-motherfucking-Aiken!

Or maybe this is all bullshit too. Maybe it's not me. Maybe it is all you crazy women out there with your storybook romance bullshit that make me wanna be a bachelor for life.

Who knows?

Who cares?

I'll tell you knows and who cares. I do. That's who.

And I have figured out how I'm gonna land me a woman who won't drive me crazy.

It's a step program. Here goes:

1) Get back in shape.

2) Get my toenails fixed.

3) Get my credit in order.

4) Buy a home.

5) Learn sign language.

6) Find me a gorgeous, childless, barren, deaf-mute woman and marry her.


Problem solved.



Thanks for reading.


Download the new single "In The Kitchen"


GOBAMA!



Postscript: I am more serious than you think I am.