The man period

As I wake up in the morning feeling groggy and tired, this feeling of irritableness consumes my body. I lie in the bed and hit snooze. I fall asleep and I get interrupted by my bladder. I hop out of my warm bed and rush to the restroom and both my hands are asleep. I get to the restroom and now I’m squirming back and forth; I have stiff hands and a stiff dick, how is this going to work!?! I hit my hands on the sink. I feel the tingling feeling; my hands are slowly starting to wake up but my bladder is sending threatening signals saying, “empty now”! it’s like my body is having a race and my bladder is beginning to win. I dance back and forth. Fuck it. My bladder won. I have a problem. I have a hard on and my hands aren’t fully awake. I stand in this awkward, ass out position trying to pee. I’m peeing and it’s starting to hurt because I’m bending my dick so it doesn’t pop up in my face and spray piss everywhere. My hands, slowly taking their time to wake up and BAM! There it goes, lost my fucking grip; pissed on the toilet seat, some on the floor, and some on my foot, almost got the cat, run Bizzy RUN! Oh fuck this morning.

Standing there aiming back at the bowl, my hands finally start to get feeling and my junk begins to settle down and my piss stream starts to dwindle. I grab some alcohol wipes from my room, wipe the toilet down, wipe the floor down, and wash my foot. Fuck this morning. I’m running late and I was already--- (Pain shoots through my stomach) what the fuck was that? Oh great, I’m gassy and got a stomach cramp. That’s awesome. I don’t have time for this shit body literally, I don’t have time for this shit. I gargle some mouth wash and brush my teeth, wash my face and take a quick bird bath. I run into my room, get dressed, and rush out the house. I’m mad, I’m grumpy, I’m grouchy, “Dean Can you do me a favor?” NO! “EW what’s wrong with you?” I’m on my man period! Everyone is annoying me and everything is getting on my nerve, even the person I’m waiting to help, standing in line breathing heavy is bothering me, seriously, if you would just lose some fucking we ---Dean, come on really, stop thinking mean thoughts. Gosh, you can be such a bitch when the man period shows up I think to myself. 

 

Walking around feeling bloated, I began to think I feel like a fat blue berry wearing a navy shirt; of all color’s I decide to wear blue. I feel like the girl in the Willy Wonka movie; luckily we have flatbeds in case they need to roll me out of the store. Oh these stomach cramps, fuck I have to take a shit. I run to the restroom and like God playing a cruel joke on me, “Carry out to the front please” I walk in the restroom and walk out at the same time cursing under my breathe, “On my way!” With an attitude, I walk back to the front and smile at the lazy fat man needing help with some water I just saw him lift himself when he was line. 

There goes that attitude. Everyone is on my shit list right now because my man period has me in a bad mood and my body doesn’t want to act right, my stomach hurts, I want to shit but I think I’m constipated, I feel fat, fuck this guy stinks, I’m sleepy, tired, angry, grouchy, irritated, annoyed and to top it off, after lifting all that heavy crap, it made my stomach hurt and now I’m hungry. Just great, I’m hungry with a bloated stomach. I just want to scream at the top of my lungs. This morning has been brought you by mental Kotex; the mental tampon for men. On those days when you have a heavy flow of unbalanced hormones, take the “fuck it all” pill and everything shall be ok. I laugh. I run to the restroom and tell my manager be back I really have to go. 

The pure bliss of release, I sit there. I smile for the first time this morning. The angels are singing, the birds are chirping louder and the smell of shit has never smelled so great; not really, it was stinky, but the cramps were gone, the bloated feeling left my body and finally, I felt kind of normal. It was great. After I did all of my business, I felt a tad normal. Still a little irritated because of the morning, it began to slowly wear off and began to return to normal. The man period was starting to lift and everyone was safe again; no more looking at people crazy, no more bloating, and feeling like a fat, fatty blueberry, no more “fuck off” attitude. I was feeling great. Then my stomach growls something vicious. Great, lunch time isn’t for another four hours. I hope I don’t get “hangry”. (A cross between hungry and angry) =)

 

To replica or not to replica: that is the real Jordan

Sneaker heads: Just because somebody is rocking a fake pair of Jordan’s does not mean you should clown or hate them; you hate when people hate on you because you go out and purchase shoes that are the same price as a car note; the funny part about that is some people are paying that much for sneakers and can’t even show them off because a fear of getting them dirty; So why pay that much? So when you do get more money, you could actually go out and MAYBE show them off?

    Replica sneaker heads: I understand, who in their right mind, wants to pay $250-$300 dollars for some Jordan’s?? Hell no! I get it…but when you buy the sneakers, can you at least stay within the color realm. Don’t go buy a pair of 11’s that are green and black or even better, there red and black and right below the Jump man it say’s “Chicago Bulls” with the bull and Jordan’s number; everyone knows those never came out and you're just asking for these ridiculous, “all my shoes are over $200 dollars” sneaker heads to open their mouth and flood the internet about how passionately they hate “Fakes” Replica’s and the people who support them.

So what is a fake sneaker? I mean technically, you can hold it in your palm, you can grab them, you can feel them, they have been made with some sort of material, a matter of some sort, it’s visible, it’s there; you know, when someone say’s a fake sneaker, I get to thinking, “Is the sneaker in 3D or something?” Does it appear to be there so when I go to grab it, I fall into the mist of a hologram? The sneaker is not fake it’s real. “Oh don’t be an ass, you know what I mean by fake.”

 Yes unfortunately I do understand. You mean the shoe is not of the original origin as in, “some Chinese people in a factory, that is not a part of Nike or Jordan  who use to work for Nike or Jordan, memorized all the patters, the stitching, color’s, everything from working all those hours, can make Jordan’s and any Nike in their sleep.” They got sick of that shit, went off to start their own business, got all of the stuff, and created some replica Jordans; meanwhile in America, another black kid got robbed and shot for his Jordan’s, the rare pairs that just came out.

 Foot locker now raffles off who gets to buy these rare pairs; before, you use to be able to get up in the morning  and maybe be the first few people in line to grab a pair, now it’s Jordan’s drop on this day, you get a raffle ticket 3 months in advance so we can call to tell you that you didn’t get a chance to spend $165.00 dollars and have the experience of leaving the store, entering into a mob of people who desperately “need” these shoes,  mean mugging the fuck out of you and hey, if possible, you may get the whole Jordan experience, get robbed for your shoes; the shoes you’ve went to work for everyday, worked your ass off for, maybe even sold a few drugs on the side and almost shitted yourself because that week, it seems like you always had cops around you. 

                                                      OKAY THESE ARE PRETTY BAD

I know, it seems that I have went on a long winded tantrum but listen up sneaker heads, do you really enjoy this??  Becoming enslaved by your own emotions over a shoe? Something you only wear once just to put back in the box because it’s the style to do so?  Yet you clown people who buy Rep’s or fakes because there dying to belong or be a part of something? What does that really say about you? Look, we all eat Pizza right? We all at some point start off with pizza hut or dominoes and then someone introduces you to the neighborhood pizza shop and our mind is blown again because the crust, and the cheese and everything is SO much more rich then pizza hut. One day, your bubble gets blown. That’s not real pizza. Italians don’t use as much tomato sauce on their pizza and for damn sure, the bread is not that fluffy; if anything, it’s extremely thin. What? No way. This whole time you have been eating “fake” pizza. Do you still eat it? Of course you do. The mom and pop pizzeria shops are so delicious and cheap, why would you stop eating it?  “Oh, it’s fake Pizza, I don’t fuck with fake Pizza. I only eat authentic pizza.” Fuck outta here. Look, we live in America, everything we eat is a replica of some country…hamburgers, French fries, hot dogs, Taco Bell….we all eat that but get chastised if someone wears, fake Prada, fake Gucci, fake Jordan’s….you see my point here?

            My point: Clothes don’t make the man or the woman, man or woman make them; however, you are what you eat: imitation food is not a good way to go about calling someone fake, for wearing fakes, if you are what you eat. Jordan is the only person who will have the so called “real Jordan’s” because the real Jordan’s were made for him; all the other 1,000 pairs sold were made for consumers; therefore sneaker heads, I don’t mean to bust your bubble but, YOUR WEARING REPLICAS. I know, “no I’m not, the material is made much differently and the stitching is done better, there ripping off the designer (and Nike is ripping you off is what I’m thinking) and your supporting criminal activity (Hey! What do you know, we have the same thing in common, supporting criminal activity)” I get it, I own a few pair of “real” Jordan’s. I’m 29, which means I remember when Jordan played basketball, my first pair of Jordan’s were the 7’s, back when Jordan’s were still $100.00 and sold in JC Penny.

I remember getting the hologram Jordan’s blue and grey which I still have, I also have the black and red; luckily my foot didn’t grow anymore pass the age 14 so I’m still able to fit most of my Jordan’s. I own the 14’s and I bought my first pair  of 12’s when I was 22 or 21. I saw Jordan’s when they were $100.00, I spent $140.00 with tax when I purchased my 12’s.  One day, I came across a guy who sold Jordan’s out his trunk for $80. I knew they were replicas but they look like the real thing, fit my foot well and were WAY cheaper than the mall.

Those Jordan’s I bought when I was 22 or 21, I still own to this day, I had to super glue the toe. I don’t play ball anymore and if I do, it’s not in Jordan’s shoes. I may have gone to a few parties in those shoes but none the less, I was careful, I didn’t dance in my Jordan’s, I was clean.  I’m using Gorilla glue on a pair of $140.00 dollar shoes that rarely saw much movement; but my Replica Jordan’s are still intact??? 

            So why would I pay,  “fuck me in the ass with a Sperm Whale cock” prices for a shoe that when you look at it, was poorly designed; I would rather pay $45-$50 dollars for the same shoe; so that if it does fall apart on me, oh well. I’m super gluing a “real” Jordan. I know sneaker collecting is a hobby. I collect but I have really curved my sneaker taste. I know, I can flip my $140.00 plus sneakers online for $250.00 but that’s ridiculous; I brought those damn shoes and I own them. Lol. 

 Replica Jordan’s, Gucci bags, Prada, Nike, whoever, there not hurting anybody, if anything, it’s making someone happy that they can flaunt it and still eat for the next week; some day, they’ll be able to afford  it, but at that moment, they can’t. So what if it’s a fake, so is that slice of pizza, so is my 10.1 Samsung galaxy note tablet (apple was first everyone else copied) the Chrysler car is an imitation of  the Bentley Phantom, all touch screen phones favor the IPhone, we all have a fake version of something. So sneaker heads, with all that said, can you still be upset if someone rocks a pair of fake Jordan’s?  Of course you can. Just remember this, replicas are getting better every day. Rep’s are getting so good and there still selling them at a cheap price. These little companies are putting the money back into their business, buying better material, which in China, probably doesn’t cost much, and making the sneakers, to better benefit there consumer..Before, there were 10 flaws, now there’s only two, and soon there will be none thanks to all the sneaker heads giving away the tips of what makes a “real” Jordan online; and they will continue to sell Jordan’s for $50 bucks. One day, someone is going to buy a pair of fakes that have been perfected and you won’t know the difference.

                                                   Which one is real and which one is fake?