Do cell phones make enough noise?

First ringtones, then ringback tones (which are pretty damn cool) and now iTunes downloads for your cell phone. Although most of us saw it coming, Apple has teamed up with Cingular wireless and Motorola to launch a cell phone that can play files downloaded from iTunes.

Some people think that these cellies will compete with the iPod, but I seriously doubt it. It won't compete with mine. Besides, MP3 players and cell phones that play MP3s have lived harmoniously in Japan for at least 5 years. Our raggedy ass cell phones will not hold enough songs to compete with an iPod and their batteries will die in no time if you actually plan on taking calls. How about a camera phone that takes pics I can actually see? Let's work on that technology.

Will I be able to hook my cell phone up to my car stereo? I hate to see the day that we can use phones on the plane while in flight. I love cell phones like Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Don't say shit about my cell phone or my usage. BUT, I hate the lame people who talk their ass off all loud on the airplane. You've been in the airport for a fucking hour and I have to listen to you instruct someone to feed the dog or put Timmy to bed?

I think this will make plenty of money for a few companies, but I refuse to switch to Cingular. I'm losing faith in cell phone technology. I know our phones could be SO much better. The free phone I used in Japan in 2000 is still hotter than the hottest shit Verizon sells today. So, the point is that soon you will be able to download music to a cell phone... try not to pee yourself with excitement.

Reaching Out

I've decided that blogging is driven by guilt. I'm writing not because I really have something to say, but just so that I have something to post. So, here's what's on my mind:

I really think that Fat Joe kept it real at the VMAs by publicly dissing 50 Cent & G-Unit. It was funny and quick and didn't violate any FCC laws. I give him a 9. While I knew 50 Cent had to come back with something, I thought that he could have came WAY better. It was like kids shouting insults on the play ground and trying to use all of the curse words they knew. OK, Fat Joe is a pussy. I get it, but he just punked you so now what? I give 50 and Ya-Yo a 5 for their come back. They get 3 points for attempting to say something and 2 points for throwing all good sense aside and keeping it gangsta. Since that's what they say they are, I'll give them points for just cursing up a storm on stage. But, I would have been thrilled if 50 had came up with a little freestyle and ripped that at the last min. I'm asking for too much, I know.

On a totally different subject, I'm really concerned about rumors I've heard about Mos Def. A lot of us jokingly call him our baby daddy, but this is not so funny now. First I hear he ran off and married a girl he met in a Toronto nightclub. Then NY Post's Page Six said that Mos was already married to another woman and has five kids by five different women. Now, these things are fairly easy to confirm since they're all public record, but it's all a rumor right now. So, you know how that works. It seems like the Toronto thing is true and I think the only good news here is 1) You can meet a rich husband at the club, 2) Just because he may be married already, doesn't mean you can't marry Mos Def.

Wait, there must be serious world issues on my mind too... I'm concerned about the fact that I kinda missed the clearing of the Gaza strip. I did see a few images of soldiers crying as they had to remove their own and I did catch that it was emotional. What I didn't feel was the historic weight of what was going on. I watched water being pumped from a pond on several 24-hour news channels when they were looking for Natalie in Aruba. I wanted to watch people rolling out of Gaza. A straight up live video feed is what I wanted... just like the water leaving the pond in Aruba. Everyone knew THAT shit was going down. Maybe it's just me and there's no one to blame. I have been a little busy lately, I'm probably missing something historic right now...

Deadly Gas

I paid $38 to fill up my Honda Accord. THIRTY EIGHT FUCKING DOLLARS. This is preposterous. Why in the FUCK is gas $2.70 at the CHEAP SPOTS? This absolutely makes no sense. Our country went and conducted a hostile takeover of a country with the largest untapped oil reserves in the world, and our gas is DAMN NEAR 3 dollars…shit it IS in some places. I am about to go buy a fucking donkey to ride to work on.

Dawg...I have seriously thought about holding up a gas station. NOT for the money, just put a gun to the attendants head and say $40 ON 5 BITCH! OR I'LL BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT! There is NO REASON for this shit to be this high. Like, we can delve into car pooling, public transportation, yada yada...and yes I live in a city so all these are possible. But FUCK THAT.

And FUCK IRAQ. We need to pull those troops out and talk about these PMD'S, that's right, Bitches, PRICES OF MASS DESTRUCTION. Cuz this is destroying my disposable income. Get the fuck out of Iraq, and put them cats into positions to fuck up these OPEC bastards. And tell them straight up, pump more oil or lower the barrel prices, Bitches…or we'll DESTROY your castles ho's. We're talking 'bout all this damn terrorism and we've got Al Exxon over this bitch wreckin' havoc!!

Ok, I'm sorry. But I paid $38 for gas dawg, it ain't right. I'll stop now

By Twiz

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this post are not those of Militant Black Toast. But dude has a point.

So Lame

I was looking through this pamphlet from The Knowledge Shop to read about their painting class, when I read the most ridiculous thing EVER. Below is the actual class description. What in the hell???
- Red State Hostage

Impress Men with Football Knowledge
You're not going to meet a man at the mall, so learn his game.

This is a workshop for women who want to know more about football. It is for the football widow, the team mom, the single woman looking for a way to meet Mr. Right, and for the business woman who wants to communicate better with co-workers, clients and her boss.

You will learn:
Basic rules of football
The players' positions and their importance
Super Bowl history
Names and short bios
Florida teams and rivalries
How to use your knowledge in conversation
How to become an expert
You will be required to participate, so dress comfortably. Three-hours is a long time to just sit and take notes. Prepare to put together your play book and impress your husband, son, co-workers, and that cute guy you want to know better! Additional $10 booklet fee payable to the instructor.

The professor is a registered pharmacist who has coached men's intramural football and unofficially coaches her 10-year old son's team. "Daily, (she) impresses men with her vast knowledge of sports".


**Other interesting courses include: Nightclub Dancing, Antidote for Toxic Relationships, and Winning the Game of Love.

Time Magazine shows hip hop Love

I hate to mention Kanye West twice in one blog, like ever. But I have to discuss the fact that he's on the cover of Time Magazine. I will buy this issue tonight and read it, but first, I'll share my thoughts on the subject.

For the record, I really like Kanye. He's cool. I hear that the angle for Kanye's feature is that he defies hip hop's stereotypes. "More GQ than gangsta, Kanye West is challenging the way rap thinks about race and class.." they say. That's all accurate, but to put this brotha on the cover of Time is a slap in the face of "real rappers" (let's just put it out there. Kanye's steadily improving, but he was fairly ass-like when he started.) who've been doing that same thing for years, like oh... say, Mos Def, Common, Talib Kweli, Chuck D., KRS-One... Now Kanye is gonna gets to be the poster boy for thought-provoking rhyme slingers? Are you serious?!

I won't say more than that until I read the article...

"Whoop That Trick!"

So I finally saw John Singleton's new film Hustle and Flow this weekend. What a lovely flick. Terrence Howard murdered his role. And even though the majority of the cast were people who may never get a leading role, everyone did a great job. I think Taryn Manning, the actress who played DJay's white ho who he loves like a sister, did a great job. I'm actually interested in seeing more from her.

This is the movie that Anthony Anderson was filming when he caught that rape charge, which was later dismissed. It all started to make sense when I saw how many "extras" in the film where "acting" as strippers. Their job was basically to stand around wearing thongs and watch the actors deliver their lines.

Anyway, did anyone else have a problem with the fact that DJay's big hit was "Whoop That Trick"? I think that was the funniest thing about the film, but also kinda sad. He had his own prositutes singing, "Whoop That Trick!" and there's a little dance that goes with it. You pull your pimp hand from behind you and swing it over your head like you're whipping someone. I guess "Brown Sugar" has already been made, and this is the other side of the rap game. And I know that DJay didn't know about anything but hustling and pimping... But damn.

Being Bobby Brown

It Ain't Over. Being Bobby Brown has been extended for two more episodes. One tonight (8/18) at 10 p.m. on Bravo and the final one is next Thursday. Yippie Skippy! Tonight's show might be kinda wack, (OK, wacker than the others) since it's just supposed to be a look into their homes like MTV Cribs. But I feel that our cracked-out familia will come up with something for people to talk about. I just hope it doesn't get another season. That would be hard to watch. Being Bobby Brown is a hard job, you have a superstar wife who's always high and pops up wherever you are. Then you have kids you have to visit in like EVERY city, plus you have to raise a few at home. And now we add cameras! Bobby might be father of the year.

I think my favorite episode is the first one I ever saw. Bobby and the fam were in the "forest" and Whitney wanted to go out on the "yacht." I remember feeling concerned for their health, bewildered by their behavior and entertained all at the same time.

Here's what I was wondering last night: How cool it must have been in the late eighties to say "Bobby Brown is my baby's daddy, gurl" Bobby was the MAN. I wonder how his groupies feel now? It seems like you need to abuse a substance to believe that he's the king of r&b. But I wish him a successful comeback.

Kanye Cries for White Girl

According to the grapevine, Kanye West went on the air at Toronto's Flow 93.5 hip hop station and complained about the way they censor his new song "Gold Digger." (Isn't that the hottest song on the radio??) Anyway, in Canada they bleep the words "white girl" and leave the word "ass" in the line "And when he gets on he'll leave yo ass for a white girl." Go 'head girl, go 'head git down.. Go 'head girl go 'head git down... Sorry, I love that song.

Anyway, Kanye tried to discuss this collegially. He insisted that the program director stop editing his song that way, but the DJ kept cutting him off. The DJ thought it was funny, but according to witnesses, Kanyeeze wasn't haven't it, got upset and bounced. But before leaving, he pulled his pants down and pissed in the sound booth!

Naw, I made that part up. See, that's how rumors get started. Someone was probably in a chat room saying, "Ciara looks like a man doesn't she?" Then someone else was all like, "I heard she admitted to having a penis removed!" Then someone else was like, "Was that on 106 & Park?" See, and all of a sudden the rumor is created. Anyway, everything except for the pissing part (which would have been really gangsta) is supposedly true.

My question is why do you think they would take objection to him saying white girl? Do white people prefer to be called Caucasian Canadians in Canada? That's like the funniest part of the song. If I wrote something that clever and someone edited it, I'd be a lil upset too. What other terms could Kanye have used.. he'll leave your ass for a: snowflake? a Becky?
By the way, Militant Black Toast does not condone calling white chicks out of their names. But snowflake is funny and the censors may not pick up on that.

Deep Thoughts...

Just curious. If you belong to the Mothers of Incarcerated Sons support group, that according to the radio has regular meetings, do you get kicked out if your child is paroled or placed on house arrest?

By Red State Hostage

Cubicle Confessions

You know, sometimes, like, our people, just get on your nerves. So I'm at this new job, this small little consulting firm. Now from my first meeting I was informed that there's a lot of work and people routinely stay late. Being as though I wasn'’t working and I'm waiting on my interviews to get back w/ the Feds, of course this is no problem, you know gimme that check ho and you can work me all you want. Right, so anyway I get up in there and sure there ARE a lot of things to get done. Plus quite a few of the people are working on another project (since it IS a federal contractor). Right. So my first week, I wind up stayin' late two days, you know cuz I'm figuring I'ma go hard for the team. In the midst of the first week, I happen to notice quite the little trends.…
Ok, now being as though I was raised by two women, I consider myself perhaps one of the least sexist persons on this orb we call Earth. I think a woman can do damn-near anything a man can save a few anatomically impossible things and perhaps some physical things based solely on the good Creator's gene/protein distribution blueprints. As in most instances when dealing with anything health or public-health related, my office is 80% female. I'll also add that it is 90% minority. Right. Anyway, people are straight. Everyone gets along, no egos.

BUT, I would estimate a SOLID 2 hours are spent discussing HOW MUCH WORK they have to do. Dawg...I SWEAR... There would be approximately four less days a month of staying late should these Mo Fo's SHUT THE FUCK UP, and DO ALL THE SHIT YOU'RE COMPLAINING YOU HAVE TO DO! All of this and I've gone from my comfy office to a cubicle where I get to hear combinations of pregnancy tales, boyfriend stories and whispers about Lord knows what else. While I do admit it can be at times very amusing.

By Twiz

Po-Po ruin another party...

Last night, I paid $20 for a 20-min party in a huge two-story restaurant with a wrap around verandah. The cops came in shortly after midnight and decided that we had too many people inside. It was a hard concept to follow considering that the dance floor was empty. We were waiting for the party to start! I must not forget to point out that this party is in Greensboro. And the second notable fact: This black-owned venue is throwing a hip-hop party in a white neighborhood. By midnight its neighbors are fast asleep with visions of stock dividends dancing through their heads.

So the cops come in and tell the DJ to stop the music. I'm guessing that the cops told the owner/promoters that we were at capacity and they we're all like, "That's impossible! This place is nearly empty!" So the cops came up with a clever plan to make EVERYONE leave the club and count them as they walk back in. Of course this means that people from the inside will mix with the people who are outside waiting to get in, but the plan was solid aside from that. It takes forever to get people who just paid $20-$40 to understand that the party isn't over, but they have to get out. Then the local hip hop station was throwing the party so all of their staff decided to stay inside, and it took time for the cops to figure out how to count them. In the end they herded us into the bar area like cattle, counting us as we entered. At first that was perfect, "I was on my way to the bar anyway!" I joked. But the bar wouldn't even serve us water. Some party.

An hour later, with almost everyone standing outside, the cops decide that the party is over. They clear the parking lot by looking into cars with flashlights and chasing down people who leave too fast. I wonder how many drunk drivers we could prevent if police went around shutting down parties and forcing people to drive home earlier than expected..hmmm.

The sad part is that everyone lost their money and the owner lost his credibility. The same thing happened to him on Friday night. The restaurants capacity is 389 with tables and without tables it's still 389 for some reason. And the party was a birthday celebration that never got off the ground. The birthday dude had just walked in with a cake when the music was shut off. Sad, sad, sad. The law is the law, but from what I hear and what I've seen, many venues surpass their capacity without becoming deadly fire traps.

For some reason this reminds me of the 1979 Greensboro Shootouts that came back into the news last month. It seems like a leap, but they connect for me because both symbolize the way that racism is accepted or overlooked by many people in this community. In my opinon, race often plays a role in the way problems are perceived and solved.

In 1979, when KKK and American Nazi members opened fire on union members at a rally in the projects, several news teams were there filming. The shooters have been acquitted twice. Learn more at the links below.

http://www.gtcrp.org/context.asp
http://www.charlotte.com/mld/observer/news/local/12152428.htm


Image: Eric Shansby

I love black people, but I can't stand....

A story from my homeboy Twiz:

So, I'm coming back from Mickey D's...as I proceed to walk into the building...I notice a middle age, slightly heavy-set black woman walking in with me, with one of those spikey half-curl weave/wigs that SOME women (I won't delve into specifics, but I'm sure you know the people I'm talking about) wear. We all get into the elevator (myself, the weave/wig lady, and somebody random) and the doors close making us unseen to those on the street, Wiggy (as I shall affectionately call her) proceeds to take off her neck brace, begin FANNING herself with it while stating "whew...it's hot." She then gets off on her floor...head high...while continuing to fan herself with her NECK BRACE.

Sometimes....I hate us

Testing for the Down Low

OK, all this talk of men living on the down low has crept into my daily convos with friends & fam. It went something like this:
Convo 1:
Girl 1: There's no way to know if a man's on the down low, he has to tell you
Girl 2: Oh, I always do the finger test on my man
Girl 3: [laughs..] I know that's right.
Girl 1: What's the finger test?
Girl 2: You know, I put a finger in his butt when we're having sex to see if he likes it. And if he likes it too much I think he might be gay
Girl 1: oooh....
Girl 3: Yeah, but that's not a fair test. That's why guys pretend like they don't like the finger because they don't want us to think they're gay.
Girl 1: Yeah, they may just like that. [and not be gay]
Girl 3: These guys can't win for losing.
all: [laughs...]

Covo 2:
Girl 1: I think I'd know he was gay if he came home and wanted anal sex all of a sudden..
Girl 2: Not unless he's smacking it and calling you Twan. There's nothing strange about that.
Girl 1: Well. I think I would know.
Girl 2: The best thing to do is just ask.
Girl 3: My friend asked a guy she was dating if he was gay and he never called her again
Girl 1: Why?
Girl 3: Because he was gay!
Girl 2: Maybe he was offended?
Girl 3: She was on to him, so he stopped dating her..
Girl 1: Well, it's not like he's going to say yes.
Girl 2: Wouldn't you be offended?
Girl 1&3: No! I'd just say, "No."
Girl 2: Yeah right....I'd be offended.

Here's what I think. You can't test for the brother on the down low. You can't ask him and expect him to tell the truth. I think you can observe his friends and keep an eye out for flaming homeboys. That would be a sign for me. And then there are the phone taps, following him and searching his place. But if you reach that level of curiosity you should just dump him. I think that straight men should be able to enjoy an occasional hetrosexual bottom play without being labeled gay. Under this theory, you'd be gay for enjoying head- homosexuals do that, right? Sex is what it is, you're not gay until you enjoy it with someone of the same gender. Just my 2 cents.

Woes of a PC user

This is a letter that one of my friends smuggled out of her office. She hearts the young lady who wrote it. I will only say that Macs don't have this problem or many other problems that PCs have. Mac users are smart and cool, hell I'll just say it: We're superior.

A N  O P E N  L E T T E R  T O  M Y  C O M P U T E R'S  I N S E R T  K E Y 

Dear Insert Key,

For the love of Mike, whose so-called innovative idea was your creation? Insert key, you vex me. Many and long are the days that I've been scribbling away at my machine with little cause for editing as I type until you rear your ugly head. Your goodly aunt, fair Spellchecker, rarely steers me awry. I can rely on her to put forth a best effort. She's my George Foreman: not the best to look at, nor the smartest, but deliciously helpful, whilst you're my Gerry Cooney: lumbering, oafish, and a bit too hairy.

Whither your existence? Never can I recall actually pressing you intentionally. However, late at night when I'm revising documents and endeavoring to complete my next days' tasks, you taunt me in a way that I can hardly put words to. I place my cursor on the page and add a few words, a space or two, or even an inserted graphic. Given the fast-paced nature of today's society, I don't always pay close attention to the screen. And lo, upon review, you've been selected! The fiendish OVR button is highlighted at the bottom of my document! All my changes are for naught. Spacing is lost! Text is overwritten! Formats are jumbled! Why? Why? Why? I rue the day you were spawned.

Wishing you all the best,

Name Deleted, Washington, DC   

Disclaimer: It's important not to let your computer drive you over the edge. Please remember that we are in control. If you don't believe that you're in charge of your computer, you are crazy. There's no nice way to say that. But computers are not alive.

Fashion Underworld..

I recently traveled to New York City to buy designer handbags. Some people may head straight for Fifth Ave., but we were looking for maximum style at minimum cost. We were hunting for da bootleg, or as I often correct curious clowns attempting to call me out, the replica. Now let me say this. If you're a label whore who worships overpriced shit because it has a certain designer's name on it, you should never rock a bootleg--that's like blasphemy. You'll certainly spend eternity in fashion hell. It will be like one huge Wal-Mart with aggressive Victoria Secret sales reps asking you a never-ending series of questions. And when you get to checkout, the line will be super long and after you wait for hours you'll discover that you don't have any money. Then you'll have to put everything back and tomoorrow you'll start over with the same belief that you have money this time, only to realize that you're still broke.

Replicas are for sensible people who understand that style shouldn't keep you from eating, traveling or paying bills entirely and on time. Now, back to my story.

We had no idea how things worked, all we knew was that you go to Canal Street. So we went. I looked in several booths with cute bags, but the bootlegs were horrible! They really weren't bootlegs I guess because they didn't say any designer name. They may say "Pegus" instead of "Prada," that type of stuff. That's a safe purchase if you don't mind looking like shit. To get to the good stuff you have to listen to the lady who quietly asks, "You want Louis Vuitton?" as you walk by. If she has a little sheet of paper in her hand with pictures of the styles, she's official. Say something like, "How much?" or "Where?" (But don't waste time asking a bunch of other questions because many of our leads didn't understand English. They'd give an affirmative nod to anything and I'd look like a jack ass saying, "But she said...") She'll always say, "Follow Me."

Whoo hoo!! Now I'm shopping. I followed several different Asian people into steamy, hot quarters in the bowels of the train stations. Behind solid doors that could only be opened from the inside, there were tons of designer bags. Prada, Louis, Coach, Fendi, Dior whatever you want. But one group of people were kinda weird because there are lots of rooms with great bags, but if you tried to snoop in to a room that you weren't invited to they'd slam the door. So, you have to go back on the street and start over with a new person who can take you back and get you into a different room. Kinda fun.

Then there are folks who have replicas stashed in closets or in the back of the store. You'll think you've seen it all, but if you say the right thing, a door pops open or you're lead to the back. It's the most exhilarating shopping I've done in a while because it's criminal. The person leading you to a secret location is always looking over their shoulder, making sure no one's following or watching. Then once inside there's a "boss" character who will talk prices with you. Or laugh at you, or kick you out trying to cop bags for the low low, all of which happened to us.

I saw all types of people shopping in the steamy secret locations, people who looked like they would never carry a knock-off. We smiled a smart people smile at each other as we rubbed shoulders in the hot closests.

The prices are CHEAP, but since there are several grades of bootlegs, some things just can't sell for $20. Some just look like the real thing, others are marked like the real thing, and some feel and look like the real thing. The prices go up depending on how real you wanna get. I saw a Louis Vuitton watch sell for less than $10. (Not to me, because it didn't have numbers and I can barely tell time. I roll with digital watches.) The point is this: Shopping for replicas is more fun if you go straight to the source. You could buy from the middle man, who will make 100% profit, but dipping into unmarked locations with strangers is exciting.

Disclaimer: Asians aren't the only people selling bootlegs.That's just who I spoke with. I also met some wonderful bootleggers from African nations. And as we all know Americans would rule the fashion underworld if we had the connections.

Whatchulookinat?

Today I've decided to blog. I don't know much about blogging, but I hear that "everyone" does it. So, I'm basically a follower seeking followers. Won't you follow me?

Militant Black Toast is a name that makes me laugh every time I hear it. It's an inside joke that I share with some weirdos I know. One day, hopefully soon, I will post the meaning behind the title. For now, I will say that I was seen as a militant black chick on my college campus. I attended a small, southern university that catered to rich people who never attended public schools. You'll hear me diss my alma mata every now and then, but I'm proud of my degree. Shit, I'm still paying for it.

I won't use too much company time to write this post because I'm very dedicated to this small, Southern company that pays me a small Southern salary to do what I absolutely love to do more than anything-- read and write.

I'm not sure how often I'll post, but I'll try to do it very often. Hopefully you'll fall in love with my militant black toast style. Feel free to comment and talk about anything.

PEACE

TESTING

WELCOME TO MILITANT BLACK TOAST!!!