RANDOM THOUGHT ALERTS!!! (Vol. 1, No. 11)

At one point, I know y'all probably thought this series should be renamed "The WMATA Chronicles" because of my 31-years-and-counting obsession with D.C. Metro.  However, as much children's programming as I've been exposed to over the past two years, maybe I should consider rebranding this "Memoirs of a Pitiful Big Kid".  So remember my edition of "RANDOM THOUGHT ALERTS!!!" when my crazy brain connected Ramone aka Mr. "I Do What I Can" from PBS Kids' Peg + Cat to Project Pat's "Out There Part 2" skit from his Mista Don't Play - Everythangs Workin album?  Welp, the ignorance has resurfaced once again.  One morning when I was getting ready for work, PBS Kids' "Where in the World Is Hooper?" came on in between shows.  After Hooper the Hamster gave all of his clues per the usual, asked the kids "can you guess where I am" and then said "you guessed it", you probably can deduce which popular "trap" song of the past two years came to mind..."B---h u guessed it...HWAH...u was right."  So it's official: I can't watch PBS Kids without thinking about Project Pat, OG Maco and other ratchet rap songs.  I mean, Hooper does moonlight as a fake-me-out DJ if that means anything at all regarding the connection in my mind between him and rap.  (BTW, saying the words "fake-me-out" gave me an idea for a future random thought, but I digress.)  Let's get on with the rest of this mess...

"YOU KNOW I'M JAMMIN' IN HIROSHIMA!"  Only the hardcore Martin Lawrence fans know that particular reference from his gut-busting Talkin' Sh*t comedy album when he was talking about Michael Jackson "jammin' in Bucharest", so indulge me as I attempt to make a connection.   (Meanwhile, go ahead and treat yourself to this comedic gold, which was the precursor to 1994's You So Crazy.)  So I'm coming from a doctor's appointment with Baby Boy Scribbler and decide to throw on Alexander O'Neal's Hearsay album, which is one of my favorite 80s R&B albums.  Now I'm sure I've probably thought this before when listening to the album, but I get to certain parts of songs like "Hearsay" and "The Lovers" and think to myself, "I wonder if Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis' productions of the late 80s and early 90s were hits in Japan."  Think about it for a second: in America, music considered "too Black" and struggled to crossover as easily as, say, Michael Jackson or Whitney Houston was often more appreciated overseas anyway.  More important, whether it was for O'Neal, Janet Jackson or Herb Alpert's "Making Love in the Rain", Jam & Lewis threw in splashes of that koto flavor to make their sound a bit more international at times.  For somebody like O'Neal who only had four Hot 100 singles and two Top 40 hits over the course of his career--three of those singles being from Hearsay--I wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way across the Pacific Ocean and told folks, "You know I'm jammin' in Hiroshima next week, right?"

"#YAD*CKISLITTLE!"  So some of y'all may have seen this video where guys sends women pictures of their private parts, but they proceed to clown the brothers and lay out the criteria for what constitutes as a small penis.  Now "penis shaming" is definitely not a new phenomenon as many women, especially "size queens", have been doing this for as long as I can remember; through a flurry of emasculating videos and memes, it's an even worse time for the phallically challenged with the advent of social media.  What also doesn't help this particular group of men is they are usually the guys who are the first to send pictures of themselves and overcompensate in certain areas, but nothing makes them a target more than their mouths writing checks their behinds (or rather, their penises) can't cash.  However, although there's not much a woman can do with a toddler-pinky-sized member, the hypercritical women seem to overlook one thing: a man with a big penis isn't guaranteed to get the job done either.  I've heard plenty of stories from women who have dealt with the more "blessed" brothers and complain about their size being a total waste because they don't know what they're doing with what they have.  Furthermore, a lot of women will clamor for bigger, but much like a child whose eyes are bigger than her belly, many women either complain about how much it hurts or fake the funk simply to keep "Mr. Big D*ck" around.  Sometimes, more is less if you don't skillfully use more to your advantage, but for the poor souls to whom this embarrassing video applies, less is never more unless your tongue game is capable of removing entire souls from women's bodies... 

ON A NEED-TO-KNOW BASIS. I've always found it interesting how most women feel the need to tell men about every single dude who tries to kick it to them, especially when he isn't around to see it.  However, my thing has always been, "Is this supposed to make me jealous?  Did you take his phone number only for me to call and tell him, 'Don't ever look at or be interested in my lady ever again'?  Unless you want to do something unsavory or be with him, then what was the ultimate endgame in telling me this?"  On the flip side, I don't know too many brothers who are compelled to divulge every run-in with the opposite sex to their boo thang because it seems like an inundation of useless information.  For example, I was at this restaurant a long time ago and as my date and I were leaving, a group of attractive, but clearly-inebriated women were at the bar across the room catcalling me.  My lady friend was totally oblivious to what was going on while I, uncomfortable with the attention, flashed an awkward smile, barely made eye contact with any of them and kept it moving.  Because I wasn't reciprocating the attention and she wasn't even paying attention, I didn't feel my date needed to know what happened because there was nothing to report.  While I appreciate honesty, I often feel like people give up that much info to prove more to themselves than their significant others, i.e., they either want it to be known they "still have it" or they're trying to validate their faithfulness by turning down numbers for your sake.  If you're carrying yourself accordingly when approached by others, then it never needs to be mentioned because you know when somebody is turning down everything including their collar...

GREAT ON TASTE BUDS, TERRIBLE ON TEETH. Butterfinger could easily be my favorite candy bar in the whole wide world.  Although I thoroughly enjoy the taste combination of peanut butter and chocolate in Reese's Cups and Peanut Butter M&Ms--the latter of which crushes Reese's Pieces by five country miles IMHO--the difference with Butterfinger bars is all about the "crispety, crunchety, peanut buttery" center surrounded with a slightly crunchy chocolate outer layer to complement its magnificent core.  However, the gift of Butterfinger is also its curse because I cannot tell y'all how much those "crispety, crunchety" pieces getting stuck in my teeth burn my biscuits.  Therefore, in a battle for candy bar supremacy, Snickers wins by default.  Nestle shouldn't feel too alone by my slighting of their otherwise delectable achievement in sugary greatness: I feel the same way about corn on the cob, popcorn and steak.  As much as I would love to partake in all of these foods more often--although Butterfinger would be my first choice by far--looking like Alexis Davis (Nancy Lee Grahn) from General Hospital about the mouth is not a good look for me.  Oh yeah, and Mrs. Scribbler not only gets irritated with the sounds I make with my mouth trying to clear my teeth in the absence of dental floss, but also with Grahn's facial expression.  Lose-lose situation, slim.

Has your brain been fixated on the most indiscriminate information imaginable?  Well, don't keep those thoughts to yourself...PLEASE share them in the comments and entertain the rest of us Random Revolutionaries.  Don't forget to come back soon for another "sizable" edition of "RANDOM THOUGHT ALERTS!!!"