Parkside Q

Biting The Hand That Needs Me

I finally hopped on the train headed to Manhattan after waiting for what felt like forever. Phone in hand, I headed straight for an empty seat, shivering in the crisp spring air. The light drizzle wasn't enough to make me upset about not carrying an umbrella with me, but it did make me wish I had a warmer jacket. The train moved, steadily on its way to a destination far beyond my own.

I don't remember when it happened, but at some point a disheveled-looking man decided to come join the other passengers and me in our subway car; one hand clutched a cane that helped sturdy his slight frame, his other guarded a paper cup that was temping as a makeshift change purse. His arm spasms, either from cold or fatigue, added "tambourine" to the cup's resume. He definitely was underdressed for this kind of weather, especially in this time of fluctuating forecasts and dewpoints.

He stood as tall as his cane and limp would allow, and cleared his throat in anticipation of a speech he's practiced many times prior. "Ladies and gentlemen, sorry to disturb you tonight, but it's been a while since I had something to eat." It's a speech I've often heard in the past; he's not the first to deliver it, and he certainly won't be the last. In fact, I recited the ending along with him, though only in my head lest the other passengers think I'm crazy for reiterating his lines. This is his podium, after all.

"If you could spare me some change, I would truly appreciate it."

The Game Of The Name

I read a post on Jezebel today which referenced a fascinating blog post at Daisy's Dead Air. In the article, "Daisy" (her pseudonym) recalls instances over the course of her life where people have discriminated, belittled, and straight up hated on her solely on the basis that her first name sounds "Black". Now, we all know that America's so racially sensitive/intolerant that the NYPD was just acquitted of criminally shooting an unarmed Black man... again. Sadly, this institutionalized, ideological idiocy identified as race is so ingrained and internalized that people will make character judgments/assassinations off something as trivial and arbitrary as a given name (I use that term on purpose to highlight the fact that 99.99% of us don't choose the name that's given to us by our parents).

Daisy's story is a textbook example of this travesty. While she has never had to brush up on her bullet dodging skills, she has faced bigotry that can just as easily tear a person apart. Daisy has experienced everything from having to amend her name on resumes to secure job interviews, to being told that her name is "a nigger name". Here's the kicker in this whole story: Daisy is a blond haired, blue-eyed, Midwestern white woman.

But you wouldn't know it from her real name, which is apparently so Black (whatever the fuck that means) that people questioned whether or not she graduated high school. I wish I was joking. Next time someone tells you racism is dead, ask them (especially if they're white) if they'd ever name their daughter RaShondra, as well as why or why not. The only good excuse not to do so is if you hate seeing red spell-check squiggles underneath proper nouns.

I mean, I know back in the day names had meanings and shit, but those days are over. Example: I know several Black and Latina women with names like Natalia and Natasha; those names are of Russian origin. Similarly, Sasha has historically been a dude's name, but recently I've seen more women than men with it. If names are so dynamic, why are we using them as ways to further divide society in the name (pun intended) of finding "desirable" people, both in terms of looks and skill set?

Let Your Love Just Shower Me. In Semen.

The above is the SWV video for their classic song of seduction, "Rain". Everything from the art direction to the backing beat to the vocality just screams mid-1990's R&B slow jam. I think everyone in my 5th grade class (damn I'm showing my age, or lack thereof) knew the lyrics to this song front and backwards. Which is why I was surprised when I heard it on the way back from upstate NY this weekend and I realized: goddam this song is talking about some freaky shit!

The message went way over my 11-year-old head; I just thought it sounded good at the time. But now that I've had as many years to re-analyze "Rain", I keep coming to the same single epiphany: Coko, Taj, and Lelee were totes into bukkake.

For those that aren't into freaky deaky kinky shit, stop reading now. Unless you would like to know that bukkake refers to the act of ejaculating on a willing participant, by either one or several ejaculator(s). I'm not going to guess whether or not they wanted either singular or multiple dudes raining on their parade; that's not really important. The main point here is that the song is so obviously about having dudes play "weatherman" with their dicks that I can't believe I didn't pick up on this sooner. Well played SWV, well played.

Side note: why does it seem like every successful female R&B group in the 90's have a name consisting of a 3-digit alphanumeric acronym (3LW, SWV, TLC, 702, etc.)? Sheesh, En Vogue is like the only group that comes to mind that bucked this trend. But I digress; peep the detailed lyrical breakdown after the jump. Lyrics are in black, commentary in clockwork orange.

Someone's Been Playing Too Much "Grand Theft Auto"

Parkside Q's Seven Step Guide On How NOT To Steal A Car In Canada

Take notes kids, the following may save you some time in the clink:

1) Do NOT boost a rare Nissan Skyline GT-R from a specialty dealership, especially during business hours. Busy dealerships tend to have people nearby that, during criminal investigations, magically morph into this new entity called "witnesses".

2) Do NOT cruise around your hometown in boosted car (which was never sold in North America, BTW) where people can spot and recognize said obscure import tuner. In fact, Parkside Q recommends that you skip town for a few days while you try to find someone who will buy "your" car.

3) Do NOT pose for pictures taken by a passerby, who just so happens to be a member of the car enthusiast forum that your grand theft victim posted news of his loss on. You might as well send your own homemade mugshot to the po-lice.

4) Do NOT keep your Facebook profile set to "public". Otherwise, people looking for you and/or "your" car might find that you're nothing but a high school degenerate. And the address of that high school. And directions to your house by way of Google Maps.

5) Do NOT leave "your" car parked in your driveway. Otherwise, if someone from aforementioned online car club spots the Nissan and decides to box you in while they call the cops on your dumb ass, you might not be able to make a squeaky-clean getaway.

6) Do NOT resist arrest as the police escort you to your new ride: the back of a squad car. No one wants you to be that guy screaming like a bitch because he got tasered for being belligerent.

7) Go directly to jail. Do NOT pass "Go". Do NOT collect $200.

Image and story via Switched by way of The New York Times. 

Soapboxes And Stalls: Who'd Have Thunk They Could Walk In Twain?

Parkside Q is on tour this weekend; I am visiting my alma mater since it's a major weekend for campus community events. I'll update later regarding stepshows and whatnot, but I just had to post this first to show you all how random people can be.

I'm very proud that I graduated from Cornell, but sometimes this school just doesn't act normally. In this case, I was in the library checking my facebook when I decided to use the bathroom. Now, most public bathrooms have all sorts of graffiti, gang tags, and/or obscenities scribbled on the walls with Sharpie. Similarly, the library's bathroom has been vandalized, but Cornell's vandals are truly rebels with a cause. Check out my mini gallery after the jump.

Moving Weight Like I'm Oprah's Son

This is my weight now:

Admittedly, I am closer to 185 without clothes, wallet, etc. on my body, but still you get the picture. It would be fine if I was 6'2"; I'm only 5'9". Therefore, I need to cut back, both in pounds and in dietary indulgences.

And I only have nine weeks (count 'em!) to get to my ideal weight of 170 lbs.

iCame, iSaw, iBought It

I did it. I caved. After all that shit I talked about AT&T (anyone that knows me knows what I mean), here I am playing around with my newest shiny vibrating gadget (pun intended). Let me tell you, the iPhone has rocked me like a hurricane. I now see what I've been missing for the past 10 months; between the hardware design, ease of use, and a very capable voice and data network to back it up, this phone most certainly is filling the void that my dearly departed iPod left in my personal technosphere.

I haven't posted much recently due to my schedule being kinda hectic lately. My brother was in town this weekend, and I have literally been trekking across several boroughs over the last week and a half for both business and personal affairs. However, this phone has also been a factor, especially now that I'm discovering just how relevantly functional it is. For a rundown on just how much this phone has to offer, peep the vid below:



Okay, that didn't exactly explain its real-world uses, so I'll do my best to clarify why the iPhone melts faces. I'm only covering the main functions (stuff like Weather is self-explanatory; stuff like Visual Voicemail I have yet to use) but I can always update later on. Catch the mini-review after the jump.