My 1st Voting Experience

Quick & easy. Just like it’s supposed to be. Just how them GBE boys will light this whole shit up if Obama loses. Not that they even care. But yea. Speed dial.

Anyway, it was cold as shit this morning and the line to vote was dick & butt. Can of sardines. Luckily, it wasn’t packed enough for the line to be sticking out the building when I got there. So here’s what happened.

  • I waited in a line that made me feel I was coming out of there with government cheese & Corn Flakes.
  • The man in charge of my district was damn near Michael J. Fox, the way he was shaking. I felt bad for his nervous system.
  • I immediately lost all sympathy for the old geezer when he misspelled my name on the card. When have you ever heard of a dude named “Angle”? Tha FUCK!
  • Walked my ass to the private booth & filled in a bunch of bubbles for unfamiliar names. Except for maybe like 3. Which is still horrible. (I never claimed to be into politics anyway.)
  • Scanned my sheet & handed the dude next to the machine my card & folder like if they were keys to a Bentley & he was the valet.
  • Walked out and noticed the line sticking out the building, snapped a pic, chuckled, & walked away to Jay-Z’s “PSA” with the utmost, morning “I just voted for my 1st time” swag.

As I walked away, I wondered “How can you be so sure about who you want to represent this nation if you can’t even read signs & stand in the proper lines? Wow, these people are complete nincompoops”. But what do I know? I’m just a renegade who’s eyes glisten with hope at the thought of Obamacare like an anime cartoon. Wait, can I still be a renegade even though I just voted? Nah, right? Blah. Whatever. Maybe, just maybe …. I can live a life a little less cautious and mosh at concerts without having to pretend my body is an item at an antique store. “You break, you paaaay!” (Old Korean lady voice) Or should I say “blake” ….. hee hee hee.

I had no intentions of voting until last minute. I just decided, why not? I mean, I did watch all the debates. Even though they were all pretty much the same shit. A bunch of lying, polite ass rebuttals and a few jabs. And Mitt Romney’s listening face.


GO VOTE! (Unless you don’t want to. Fuck it.)
Peace, my dudes. *rides donkey in African safari, tossing molotovs at elephants* (only figuratively)


When you admire someone…

Just a heads up, it’s about to get mushy.  But it’s July, so I’ll try to keep this short.

Yesterday, I read an article about a  restaurant owner in Akron, Ohio who passed away only hours after experiencing something that pretty much anyone would consider a highlight in their life.  70-year-old Josephine Ann Harris was just working her daily routine on Friday morning, serving customers at her family diner, Ann’s Place, when President Barack Obama showed up unannounced to have breakfast.  As a cook, imagine serving Obama YOUR recipes in YOUR restaurant. That’s a big deal!  She was ecstatic, as one can only imagine.  She loved Obama, which makes this story even more unfortunate and tragic.

Soon after meeting and serving President Obama, Harris was fatigued and said she felt “a tingling feeling”.  An ambulance was called and she was headed to Akron General Medical Center where she was pronounced dead of a heart attack.  It could’ve been a coincidence that she passed right after meeting someone she admired but I strongly believe it wasn’t.

I remember when I met my idol Jay-Z after a NJ Nets game a few years ago.  I was so eager to meet him, I forced myself past security, on to the basketball court just to shake his hand. And then I realized “Oh my God…I need something that he can sign”.  The first thing I got my hands on was a $20 bill.  I was so elated, I didn’t care about the value of the bill.  Nothing else mattered.  He gave me his autograph, I shook his hand, I looked him in his face and somehow I was able to say to the public figure that I admire like no other, “Thank you, you’re the greatest.”  I remember my friends were happy for me and how they almost seemed more excited than I was.  I was in shock.  My breathing was different.  It was weird.   “Yo, you just met Jigga! You let him know how you felt about him!”.  That’s what I kept saying in my head on the ride back home.  It was the greatest feeling in the world.

When you admire someone, especially someone who is deemed damn near unreachable, the high that comes with being able to share a moment with them is incomparable.  I believe Ann Harris felt that high.  At her age, the astonishment mixed with the opportunity to proudly serve such a strong veneration of hers was emotionally too much and her high was sadly cut short.

When I read about this, I felt awful and I wanted to dedicate a post to Josephine.

My heart goes out to the Harris Family.

(Josephine Ann Harris, third from left)

Rest In Peace, Mrs. Harris