I Need Help

Fam, I need y'all right now for real. For all my ahki's, please say a few Humduallah's for me at Jumah and for all my Christians, I need as much prayer as yall can spare. For everyone else, ask whoever it is that you worship to look favorably down on The Champ. Somebody done went and put a root on me.

There's really no other explanation for what's happening to me right now. I alluded last week to how this trip to Chicago has been a trip of duces and dimes. Well, I had another type of monkey wrench thrown into the mix this weekend. I guess since I have this forum, and others can benefit from my experiences, it was not a bad thing that happened, just one that has not happened to me in quite some time. I was on the receiving end of one of the great pieces of female nonverbal communication that exist: the dreaded Three Pat Hug.

You all know what this is, you've been on the giving or receiving end of it at one point or another. It's not as not so subtle as the hug with a million miles of space between the parties where the parties could have given more intimate dap. It's the hug where the woman (or in some cases that man, I've seen King Slick, The King Killah and The Cambodian Kufi Slapper do this to women in the past 3 months) pats your back three times as if they are saying in Morse Code YOU (pat 1) CAN'T (pat 2) BEAT! (pat 3). Now I am sure that one or more of you smart asses or dim bulbs are thinking "but Champ, I've gotten 5 or more pats so I'm cool right?" HELL NAW YOU AIN'T COOL!! Each extra pat is the equivalent of putting the word "ever" in front of pat number three (You Can't Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever Beat! for those of you that are not so swift)! Peep what happened to The Champ:

I was in the spot Sunday night kicking it like I do when I noticed this honey noticing me. No problem there except she was the pretty one out of the group. Here's another nonverbal truth about women, they sometimes need to shine. This isn't a good or bad thing, it just is. Now ladies, don't act like you don't go out with a group of mud ducks sometimes to make yourselves feel better. They may or may not be your "best" friends, or maybe co-workers, but you know you have that group that you go out with when you need to be the star (I'm dropping jewels like a thief with a hole in his pocket right now, I hope y'all are appreciating these lessons), but I digress. This is an issue sometimes because those mud ducks often know that they are mud ducks and don't like that they are not getting attention, thus they hate. Let me state for the record that I am not mad at anyone for hating, hell, I am one of the biggest haters of all (although, I must concede that The King Killah is by far winning the race for Hater Of The Year for 2005.), however I try to stay out of situations where I can be hate crimed. Every woman has a friend, or a few friends, whose position it is to hate (wait until I break down the female circle of friends and drop that gem on you!!!!) so you run the risk at all times. In situations like these, you are better able to calculate your risk and determine the best course of action.

I decided that I'd keep tossing those assist left and right (ask about me, I'm on that Magic Johnson pre 1991, yet another gem on which I will further expound in these annals of piff) to the cats I rolled with since they had been suck gracious host thus far (although some of them have been straight garbage about receiving said assist, but that's yet another story. I'll just say that at times I've felt like Magic playing with the Special Olympics all starts, they may be all stars but they are not on the level!!!!). I finally see that honey is not surrounded and I take my shot. SWISH!!! Or so I thought. We're chatting it up and all is good for the most part. I'm sizing her up for potential positions and how I'm going to have her calling me by my righteous name (Osama Bin Fuckin) as I tear her walls down, when clue number one hits me. She introduces me to one of the aforementioned mud ducks (who was doing better than me on this night) as her "new buddy". DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!! I thought that I could shake that off but time would show that I was headed to the dreaded friend zone. I'm not quite sure how this happened, I mean I was cool, my intentions were known and the whole 9. I was on a one way trip to smutsville and she was going to the Museum of Science and Industry with her new buddy. I was in complete disarray. A few more buddy from New York references and a couple of Ketel One and Tonics later and the exclamation point at the end of the sentence came: The Three Pat Hug. That stung. HARD!

While I've filled my quota of friends for the year, I'm not against making opposite sex friends. Hell, I'm in the minority of people that feel that it is NECESSARY to have friend of the opposite sex. What would I do if I did not have the Small Wonder to snap necks when chicks try to break fly?? But that's not the issue here, the bigger issue here is the root that was put on me. This was in the bag, it was suppose to have been a lay up but it wasn't. The only logical explanation is that I've been hexed. There is no other way that a week after being approached by Jaheim, that this can happen to me. Non sequiter, where is son right now?? Lyfe is slowly taking over the number one ghetto thug crooner's spot (don't sleep on that album, please!) Who could have done it?? I am sure that there are millions of motives, just no explanations right now. I need this resolved quickly too because Kimberly Locke will be in the area this weekend and I can't have this friend thing happening when I put my mack down on her!!! This is my baby boo here!! Y'all know how I feel about her (for those that don't holla at The Champ, I'm not shy about my feelings, pause). I know that she is light skineded, but did you hear her sing 'New York State Of Mind' ? She may also be one of the prototypes of what The Champ is talking about when he talks of a thick woman (PLEASE BELEIVE THAT I WILL BE DROPPING A GEM ABOUT *THIS* TOPIC)! I gotta get right by Saturday!!!!


So if you know voodoo or have a few minutes to think some good thoughts or just have some time to pray for The Champ, please do! I'm going to start enhancing my already incredible swagger by listening to 'If You Want Me To Stay' for the next 4 hours!


I thank you in advance for you assistance with this HIGHLY urgent matter!!

Oh Yeah

We're just inside 7 weeks. Act like you know. This year's festivities promise to be pretty ignorant!

"I'm Comfortable Far From Home,

eatin' right, gettin' good rest, either on the far or the foam . . ."


I did not forsake you true believers, The Champ is indeed alive and well. I've merely been designated to one of my employers Triple A Affiliates in Chicago. It's been a pretty good ride so far. There are amazing restaurants here and the food taste better when its been charged to the game! As per my own personal code, I haven't spent much time in front of a computer (recreationally) since I am OT and trying to find plenty of trouble with which to consume myself. Fear not Piff purveyors, the champ has found himself mired in many adventures since leaving home. It would be unfair to not atleast give you an idea of what your boy's been through, yet I can't really go into detail about all of my adventures. think of this as a medley. Here are what would have been titles had these been full blogs:


"Getting Hit On My Mudducks: Am I Not As Attractive As I Had Been Led To Believe"


This is inspired by the broad that looked like Jaheim (black lips, corn rows and all) that not only hit on The Boy, but was REAL bewildered then OFFENDED when I rebuked her advances. This was not your typical "I know son is out of my league but I'm going to try anyway", oh no. This broad really though that The Champ was as good as hers. She was just the icing on the cake. When I thought back about some of the honies that have holla'd at me since touching down, it's been a tale of deuces and dimes. The dimes are to be expected (ask about, ask about me); Jaheim and Co. had The Champ considering his self worth for a minute. I'm good now, as a matter of fact, I am looking for a good temporary bunny to hold me down while I'm in town. All serious inquiries should be sent to harlemslim@gmail.com.


"Work Sucks And Other Things You Already Knew"

Aside from my own desires to be independently wealthy, my first week here had me signing "Let My People Go". Shit is cool now hence the aforementioned search for a good temporary bunny.


"I Am A Crazy Chick Magnet: How I Got To See John Legend, De La Soul and Common For 10 Bucks"

So, The Champ decides to take in some local events and lo and behold, a mere 3 blocks away from the hotel is De La Soul, Common and John Legend performing. This slipped The Champ's radar as i was coming into town (not that I had that much advance notice) but I figured that I would depend on one of the last bastions of free market economy that there is: scalping. Yup, I figured that if I waited until close enough to the start of the show I could get tickets closer to face value than I would if I were too eager. This worked better than I could have ever thought. I had notice this ample bottomed caramel complected honey standing and waiting for about as long as I was only she was looking VERY aggravated. I was just about to call it a night, go to Vong and back to the hotel when I hear "EXCUSE ME, IN THE ORANGE SHIRT, EXCUSE ME" being yelled at me. It was honey. Of course at this point I am counting my chickens, pun intended, and figuring that it was on. Not exactly. She begin to tell me about the "inconsiderate MF" that she had been waiting for and how he's not answering his phone and that it was his idea that they go to this show and that she bought these tickets a month ago and how much she had been looking forward to going. Before I could ask "What does ANY of this have to do with me?" she asked was I looking for tix, of course I was, but only for the right price. She comes better than the right price, she only wants 20 bucks for the pair or just a 10 spot for the one tickets. This is the part when my heart grows 3 sizes large and I insist on paying face value or atleast buy her a few drinks inside. She would not budge, she apparently no longer cared to go to the show and only wanted to go home (or to find ol' boy and dole out a uni) . Moral of the story, I got into this show for 10 bucks and may have made a new (VERY PLUTONIC IF AT ALL) friend.


"Mild Sauce: Pitifully Holding More Weight In My Thought Process About Moving To Chicago Than It Should"

COOKED CRACK! The only think that could possibly be more addictive than mild sauce. King Slick and I were in this fair city on business a number of years ago and he even admits the power of Mild Sauce. I'll tell the story of how his appreciation came to be another time, but since we are all family, I will admit to you all that I have put mild sauce against the hawk on the pro/con list of potentially moving. That's some fat shit I just typed, but as that great Negro poet Michael Jackson once proclaimed "I can't help it if I wanted to, I wouldn't help it even if I could".


"These Bitches Is Tacky and Other Observations About The City Of Broad Shoulders (Pun Intended)"

While I understand that being from the fashion capital of the world can skew ones perspective, tacky is tacky and some of the bunnies in this city are tacky personified. This is not any type of indictment of this city by me. Hell, I was in LA earlier this year and could have said the same about that city. It's just my observation. A good deal of the dudes are lames as well. What's really good with the collars up on the polo shirts?


"I Think I Got Picked Up By A Guy: A Night At The Cheese Cake Factory"

So I'm sitting at the bar at the most wonderful place on the planet, minding my own business and eating when this guy just stats chatting me up. I'm a fairly social person most of the time, so it was no problem. Fast forward and ol' boy hits me with "So what do you do on weekends?? Where do you hang out? You know I've been in this city for 2 years and while I know tons women, I really don't have any guys to hang out with." I'm not totally sure how to feel about this. I'm very certain that dude was not gay, but still, there are certain things you just don't do with perfect strangers. The only positive here was the food for thought about moving somewhere that one does not have friends or established contacts.


"My Urine Has Smelled Like Asparagus For 2 Days and Other Things you Probably Didn't Want To Know About Me"

Two words here: Per Diem. It seems like everything that I have ordered at the oh so incredible restaurants that exist in this city come with asparagus. Nothing stays in one's urine like asparagus and coffee. I've also been trying out Axe Body Wash, the jury is still out on this. I think I'll be going back to Bath & Body Works shower gels.

That's all for me true believers. Get at your boy and put me on to something, or in the case of that temporary bunny, someone!