Monday, August 5, 2013

I Guess I Did Hit It & Quit It

Today I was sitting on my patio reading a book when my former property manager came creeping up behind me. For those of you who don't know, I spent an entire year trying to seduce and woo this woman. I was sending her chocolate covered strawberries. I once french kissed Yellow Bone in front of her to make her jealous. I did everything in my power to win this woman over. 

I wasn't able to have her until after she was promoted to another position outside of my apartment complex. We kicked it for a while and eventually I did gain access to her coochie. For a split second I was content. That was before I actually got to know the woman. Every ridiculous fantasy I had about "Cougar" (my nickname for her because she is old enough to be my mother) came crashing back to reality once I got to know her. 

Cougar is by no means a bad woman. However, she and I don't click. Once I finally got to know her, I found her to be controlling and needy. Even though she is old enough to be my mother, I grew to resent her for talking to me like a child. On top of that she used to blow my damn phone up! I mean text messages, voicemails...the whole nine yards! 

I only fucked Cougar once, but it must have been damn good because she used to send me some freaky ass text messages about what she wanted to do to me! Now, I like that kind of shit, but something about it coming from her turned me off.

Eventually, I began backing away and avoiding her. That didn't stop the constant text messages and voicemails. It took damn near two months for her to finally get the point. Today was the first time I've seen her since I cut her off and to say I was uncomfortable is putting it mildly. 

Me: "Uh...hi." 

Cougar: "Hello, how are you?"

Me: "I doing well and yourself?"

Cougar: "I'm good."

Awkward silence. 

Me: "What are you doing here?"

Cougar: "I'm helping out at the rent office for a few days."

Me: "Oh okay." 

More silence. 

Cougar: "So, you decided to wash your hands of me...just like that?"

Me: "It really wasn't like that" (but I immediately thought, yeah pretty much).

Cougar: "How was it then?"

Me: "Uh..."

Cougar: "Um hit it and quit it." 

Me (thinking to myself): I guess I did hit it and quit it.

Our exchange didn't last long. She had to go back to the rent office (thank God). I do feel bad for treating her this way. Maybe I could have handled this situation better.

Maybe This Is The Change I Need...

I'm stuck in rut. 

My friend Bill is trying to get me out of it. I don't know if I'm going through a mid-life crisis or what, but an invisible clock is ticking in my brain. It started ticking when I hit twenty-six, and it gets louder every year I age. I guess this is my mind's way of telling me, "Your ass is not getting any younger. You better have your fun now because your glamorous twenties are almost over." This, combined with my anxiety about aging, has prompted me to take some chances in life.

For a long time, Bill has been encouraging me to try my hand at songwriting. 

Bill: "If you can write books you should be able to write songs." 

Me: "Naw, I don't think so. 

I always backed away from the idea because...
  1. My brand of music (i.e., R&B/Soul) is no longer the rage. 
  2. I don't know anyone who can sing my brand of music. The so-called "artist" we have today suck ass and can't sing. 
  3. I don't know the first thing about songwriting (not a good excuse because I'm capable of teaching myself anything). I used to play sax, but that is the extent of my music education.
Bill: "My homeboy is a  producer. You write the lyrics and he will produce the music."

Me: "I guess I can give it a try."

So, I'm trying my hand at songwriting.

I know what I want to hear. I know what I like. I know what I don't like: the trash that is all over the radio. 

I've been told I can sweet talk the panties off a woman. Well, if that's true it should come out in my lyrics. 

I want to bring back REAL, good, solid R&B/Soul. I want this...

and this...

and this...

and this...

I think you get the picture.

Even if I were to write some great songs I would still face the issue of finding someone to sing the songs!

Back in the day black women were the MAIN consumers of R&B music, and black men were the main singers/producers of that music. Well, that is clearly not true anymore. 

Black men, these days, sound like bullshit and ain't nobody trying to hear them sing through a whole damn song...especially a ballad. When black men think of singing today, they usually mean a song full of autotune. Only one black men could get away with that and he is dead (R.I.P)...

And to be honest, I don't know too many black women, gay or straight, who are even checking for black men like that anymore. So, I don't think investing my time and money into a black male R&B artist is wise. 

Right in the middle of brainstorming this idea it dawned on me that I should find a black woman who can sing! Not just any type of black woman. I should find a GAY black woman, who can sing R&B music. She needs to be pretty and she needs be a bit of a tomboy. Visually she needs to scream GAY, but she also needs to appeal to straight women. 

I'm looking for a modern day T-Boz or Left Eye, who can sing! That chick will sell records. Not only will she sell records but she will practically have a monopoly on black lesbians. 

Be honest, most of us would kill for a sexy black lesbian R&B singer. Most of us would eat her records up if she's out here singing about love and relationships. Most of us would favorite the hell out of her youtube videos in which her love interest is a woman. Just imagine if the individual singing this song was an attractive black lesbian and it featured her and two other lesbians in a love triangle...

Women out here would eat this^^^ up like crack!

So, now I'm on a mission. 

I'm going to give the world the first black lesbian R&B superstar. I'm going to write the music I want to hear and I'm going to make a star out of somebody. Watch me do it!
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