<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:59:07.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Out Loud</title><subtitle type='html'>Where thoughts, objections, successes, tales of folly, random observations and the occasional recipe will be chronicled...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-4289328633806213092</id><published>2008-02-12T23:39:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:29:12.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beltway Primary Results</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;MD, DC and VA have spoken:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166320513028158882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7J1Il7bdaI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nF4E5OmKh1U/s320/barack+T.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;(to buy this snazzy tee visit, &lt;a href="http://www.tshirthell.com/"&gt;http://www.tshirthell.com/&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Delegates so far:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Obama - 1215&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Clinton - 1190&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-4289328633806213092?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/4289328633806213092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=4289328633806213092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/4289328633806213092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/4289328633806213092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2008/02/beltway-primary-results.html' title='Beltway Primary Results'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7J1Il7bdaI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nF4E5OmKh1U/s72-c/barack+T.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-6789246863830574274</id><published>2008-02-12T22:38:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:29:12.608-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Revoke their VISAs</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JmpV7bdTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bWOWQfwXCsY/s1600-h/rj3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166304582994457906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="163" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JmpV7bdTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bWOWQfwXCsY/s320/rj3.jpg" width="238" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JmpV7bdTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bWOWQfwXCsY/s1600-h/rj3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JmpV7bdTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bWOWQfwXCsY/s1600-h/rj3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's got to go, folks! I have tolerated Rihanna enough. Not only is she soooo manufactured I liken her to a mannequin with an off-key, battery powered voice pack stuffed inside her back - she has no talent. I know entertainment has been reduced to catchy tunes over a dance groove and bankable eye-candy...but can someone ring the bell on her 15 minutes?&lt;br /&gt;Rihanna can't sing, can't dance, is a certified Beyonce swagger jacker (HANDS OFF JIGGA - ho!) and now she wants me to believe she's a good girl, gone bad...FAKE FAKE FAKE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ri Ri,&lt;br /&gt;Take your very well orchestrated production team and bounce back down to the island.&lt;br /&gt;VISA Satus: &lt;em&gt;REVOKED!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JsQF7bdWI/AAAAAAAAAAw/FR9yW_x-1Vw/s1600-h/akon_1756415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166310746272527714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JsQF7bdWI/AAAAAAAAAAw/FR9yW_x-1Vw/s320/akon_1756415.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Now - this hot mess... Here he is pictured in Los Angeles for the 50th Grammy Awards. How hot is he in this jacket? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Is that fur AND wool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Dear Akon,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Not only is your voice annoying, your romp in Trinidad with the preachers daughter on stage was un-sexy. I can't wait to &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;DVR your upcoming reality show. And WTF is w/ this "Konvict" crap? You're not even a citizen and you want to brag about American jail. Thanks for T-Pain but, "No, Thank YOU!" Please fall back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VISA Status: &lt;em&gt;REVOKED!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And Finally - Ames, Ames, Ames (smh)&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7Ju5V7bdZI/AAAAAAAAABI/F3SgE3QvqvM/s1600-h/Ames.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166313653965387154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="260" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7Ju5V7bdZI/AAAAAAAAABI/F3SgE3QvqvM/s320/Ames.jpg" width="220" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There's not much to say here 'cause the courts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TOOK&lt;/strong&gt; her VISA. Cheers!, British Court system.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The most-nominated Artist of this year's &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Grammy Awards needs a time out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Her album was smoking, but so was she...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;VISA Status: &lt;em&gt;REVOKED!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-6789246863830574274?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/6789246863830574274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=6789246863830574274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/6789246863830574274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/6789246863830574274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2008/02/revoke-their-visas.html' title='Revoke their VISAs'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R7JmpV7bdTI/AAAAAAAAAAY/bWOWQfwXCsY/s72-c/rj3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-1597099909666893596</id><published>2008-02-05T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:29:12.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday is Super</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R6krLnKRLkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PLzBK5p_9PU/s1600-h/donkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R6krLnKRLkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PLzBK5p_9PU/s320/donkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163705926247591490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm in recovery from the rubberbands my orthodontist is currently torturing me with - and I'm also watching FNN and CNN to get the results of the Super Tuesday Primary Elections.    It's 10:30 p.m. and this is how they are calling it so far for the Democratic Primary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clinton:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NJ, NY, OK, AR, MA, TN and MO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Obama:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AL, CT, DE, IL, GA, KS, ND and MN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;California still isn't in and if you know anything about delegate votes and how they are alloted...you know that it's going to be a doozy, bottom line - stay tuned&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week the "beltway primary" will be held- MD, DC and VA get ready!  I've already sent in my absentee ballot which was really easy to do.  (TAKE NOTES) You still have time if you want, so here's how to do it.  Google your county's or state's board of elections, fill out the downloadable pdf and mail it in.  They will send you back an absentee ballot - fill it out with a #2 pencil and send it back.  Bim, Bam, you've voted.  Easy Shmeasy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who do I endorse, you ask?  I am Baracking the VOTE this year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can bet that bottom dollar - if Obama wins, I am flying back to DC for inauguration.   Jetsetter has already promised to come as well and I'm sure I'll round up the rest of my friends so we can document that moment in history.  I don't want to get too excited but every time Obama speaks I get a jolt, I'm positively charged - I just feel EBOUILLENT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't that be something to see? A black man and woman running this country?  And No, it's not simply that I am supporting someone of my same race (his momma IS White) and I am never that trite.  To me, it's that the symbol of solidarity between a black man and woman has been dilluted to the point where it's almost mythical in American society.  The Obamas can be the rule, not the exception.  Not that I am in favor of propping people up on pedestals by any means but their public solidarity is what I hope to share one day and so I gush over them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in Barack and Michelle - I believe in Cliff and Claire Huxtable, Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis, Jada Pinkett and Will Smith, George and Weezy, Malcolm and Betty Shabazz, Bill and Camille Cosby -  shoot even James and Florida Evans.  I know this blog is about the primary but how great would it be for  my little niece and nephew to grow up with  the partnership of Michelle and Barack's legacy represented in The White House?  The greatest thing is that for them, children of 7 and 3 years old,  Barack being the President will be just a fact, a mundane detail, an incident of note.  (at least until they are old enough to really know better) The rest of us will know now, in this moment -  that it is much more, and every time we see Barack and Michelle we will be reminded of what our ancestors hoped and fought for us to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: I am not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AGAINST&lt;/span&gt; "Ill Hill" I am just vehemently &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;FOR &lt;/span&gt;Barack.   No matter who you like, or even if you haven't decided - get informed, stay informed and have your opinion counted in the Primary and General elections.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-1597099909666893596?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/1597099909666893596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=1597099909666893596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/1597099909666893596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/1597099909666893596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2008/02/tuesday-is-super.html' title='Tuesday is Super'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zHpp-k7qH1s/R6krLnKRLkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PLzBK5p_9PU/s72-c/donkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-6384338125382252531</id><published>2008-01-29T19:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T19:38:59.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG, am I really back?</title><content type='html'>okay so... Ms. Jetsetter has gotten me back in stride again!! After my 2 or so years hiatus I am committing myself to TRYING really hard to blog my random thoughts again.  So here we go...I am sitting at some hoteling desk (if you don't know what that is I'll tell you in a bit) at my BF's job.  It's 7:12 p.m., and I've been here for at least 40 minutes waiting on him and his Mgr to finish a report.  How the heck did I get sucked in on this? We were just supposed to meet for the gym after I got off work at 6 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I feel like a kid who visits their mom and gets hidden in an abandoned cubical and given folders to label to keep themselves busy.  My job is creative, my BF's job is ultra corporate - thus the hoteling.  At my job we have toys on our desks, music playing all day and a 52" tv in the client lounge.  Here: there's repression, ties and the gun and the nod (you know, the fake I'm with ya sign) oh and there's...hoteling: a concept where transient consultants share desks in a bull pen fashion. Basically its a blank cube, with a phone and an internet jack and....NOTHING ELSE.  They even have slogans to remind you about the power of being a corporate minimalist.  Who in the hell has slogans? 1984 - Red Flag! Here is an example of their slogan, written on a post-card sized paper that is placed in each cube:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "What will you do w/ your space today?" &lt;br /&gt;It's our space&lt;br /&gt;It's your space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoteling: Clean Desk Policy&lt;br /&gt;It's a shared space; please dont; leave a trace!&lt;br /&gt;                                      - (Company Logo here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Who the hell crafts this corporate BS? I am sure I sound very "anti-establishment" right now but it's not that serious. I mean - it's just so subliminal it's OBVIOUS, patronizing and sooo damn corny.  As corny as the company was for sending out a US wide email the Friday before MLK Day to remind employees that they will be honoring Dr/ King with a "day on" and not a day off.  Don't get me started as if Dr King's work for civil rights in anyway equates to the capitalist agenda.  They just want to bill hours, not pay employees to have a day off. Classic Spin Doctors... How about you send an email like that 2 damn days before 4th of July?  People would flip - so much for the black man's holiday... but I digress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 7:22 and I'm still sitting here. The sad part is my house is like 5 blocks away but we've got to work out downstairs in the gym. If his manager asks him about House one more time I am going to bust up in there and yank his laptop out of the wall myself!  Rescue me - arggggh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                            -creative mind trapped in a corporate bind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-6384338125382252531?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/6384338125382252531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=6384338125382252531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/6384338125382252531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/6384338125382252531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2008/01/omg-am-i-really-back.html' title='OMG, am I really back?'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-112602027331892396</id><published>2005-09-06T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T12:43:48.626-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kanye Keeps it Real</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://michellemalkin.com/archives/images/kanye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px" height="365" alt="" src="http://michellemalkin.com/archives/images/kanye.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How often do people who have the platform and the attention of a generation take the time to use that power  for good and not evil? Well hats off to my beloved Kanye West who delivered a passionate, somewhat scattered impromptu speech which diverted from the blah blah blah that NBC wrote for him during the Sept. 2nd Relief Pledge hour. Poor Mike Meyers. Those double takes were priceless!Once our emotional Kanye began his rant Myers went from a supportive side-kick to confused, shocked and ultimately speechless...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you corporate mothers thought it was safe to use Hip-Hop...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me break this down for y'all. Hip Hop doesn't love the establishment. It never has. It's irreverent, outspoken nature is a reflection of our struggle and according to Friday's happenings the revolution just might be Televised. I could go on, but for those who know, I don't need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure he'll receive all types of criticism and backlash but who cares? It's about time that someone spoke out about how we are ignored in the media. If we aren't cursing, in hand-cuffs, have guns in our hand or shaking our naked asses we don't exist on television. Black people as a whole are disregarded and those who make no money are underserved at best. There is no room for us in the Republican agenda and that ishas been demonstrated in the delayed assistance, relief and rescue missions in the south.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if you haven't already seen it. Here's a re-cap of Kanye...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="161" alt="" src="http://images.ibsys.com/2005/0903/4932118_240X180.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9177352/page/2/" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9177352/page/2/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned as I begin my search to head Public Relations for the Kanye for President Press Campaign!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-112602027331892396?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/112602027331892396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=112602027331892396' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112602027331892396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112602027331892396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/09/kanye-keeps-it-real.html' title='Kanye Keeps it Real'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-112471906345971189</id><published>2005-08-22T07:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T10:17:52.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So this is how I'ma go out...</title><content type='html'>Who ever thought that high prices at the pump would translate into my untimely death...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite dipping poll approvals and growing skepticism, calls for immediate exit strategies and the beginnings of a Vietnam-esque backlash against the war, old "W" is holding his ground. Standing strong and urging Americans to "stay the course" because, "fighting in Iraq secures American freedom!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmmmmm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America is increasingly anything but free and let me tell you as a Washington, D.C. resident things are getting shakier by the day from where I sit. I am no longer in the mood to entertain this bravado - this hubris forced upon others by our government. Al Quaeda (and very soon in the near future IRAN) isn't gonna sit back and let us promote out global agenda. Very simply: THEY ARE GOING TO BLOW US ....SKY, F&amp;^%$#! HIGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"neigh!" you say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I contend that there's more terror going on here that threatens Americans and it lives in our current Administration's Policies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a simple formula to my demise folks, allow me to break it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 1: GAS PRICES ARE FUCKING OUT OF CONTROL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-No one but Leo DiCaprio and like two other people in the United States own an hybrid vehicle so we all USE GAS. That shit is $2.75 per gallon where I live- for regular, unleaded petrol. WTF? Soon gas will be $3.50 per gallon. And by soon I mean next March! Hello? Does this bother anyone? Wait excuse me- does this bother anyone to write to their state representatives? I am going to write a letter that goes like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Gov't,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations on your recent triumphs in the space exploration program. I have but one question. Is there any reason why scientist are continuing to research the - ever financially pragmatic and entertaining practice of catapaulting people into a wieghtless void, yet no scientist is working on turning urine into an economy-stabilizing fuel for cars? Get back to me and let me know when this program begins. Thanks!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for me I am near a metro line and use that Mon-Fri to get around. I am only digging deep into my pocket for weekend travel. HOLD THE PHONE! This leads to yet another cog in the design on my death!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 2: I COMMUTE TO WORK VIA METRO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-It was reported just last week (for shits and giggles I guess - since there's no plan to do anything about it) that Al Quaeda has a map of the metro posted on it's website with extreme, direct warnings of impending attacks. Hmmmm? Since they already blew a damn hole through The Pentagon and knocked down the the Towers, I am guessing that walking down an escalator and paying $2.35 for a morning rush-hour metro pass isn't deterrent enough for them not to turn any metro rail tunnel into a conduit system of fireballs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month ago friendly metro staff began distributing handbills that detailed instructions for us to familiarize ourselves with the metro map and possible escape routes. Their motto? "have a plan". Good one! Also, each morning a cheery announcement from my train conductor can be heard to "be on the look out" for any suspicious persons or activity. huh? I've been riding metro since I was 10 and have seen more suspicious people and activity than I care to remember, Have I ever reported it? HELL NO. Please. I've seen a homeless man pull his d*ck out and walk up and down a train car. I've entertained unwanted cell phone conversations and morning-after tales of what position some dude has had some woman in that damn near blew her ears off! If there's anything I want to do when I get on the metro it's mind my own damn business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What pray, tell should I look for? A man with his head wrapped up in Taliban turban? No, wait! he'll undoubtedly be blending in so he'll probably have on a Washington Nationals hat, All dressed in "terror couture" trying his best to disguise himself from any soupcon that he is an ACTUAL suicide bomber? I can just see it..."Hey, look at that fundamentalist. He &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; fooling me with his black glasses attached to a big rubber nose and funny-oversized mustache! Ha ha ah ah this is funny! I found one! Hey, Metro - I said I found one!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I doubt it will go down that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND...If there were a terrorist on my train or in my station and I happen to look up and see his/her ass I am sure it's way too late. There's probably more than one of him/or her. And it just so happens that I exit one of D.C. Metro's three major transfer stations, where at least three metro lines converge at one station. Yep! I can guarantee I'm virtually terrorist toast as the days draw on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 3: I have a Nextel phone&lt;br /&gt;-I don't care if they &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; just merge with Sprint. Them damned phones don't work underground so, Mr. Metro rail announcer even if I did see an unattended bag, suspicious person, or activity: I am shit out of luck to report it because I will not have service of any kind on my digital phone. FUCK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there u have it folks, the high-climbing prices of gas, which force me onto a metro-system, that, now, wants me to become a skilled terror look-out, encouraging me to memorize emergency "in-tunnel and above ground" (watch out for that third-rail)! exit routes, while having a handy signal carrying mobile phone by which to report anything that can be remotely deemed suspicious is going to lead to my demise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the inner-monologue as I see it, in my head..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Shit. Is that a terrorist?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can't be. He has an Ipod"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well just to be safe, maybe I should get off at the nex-KABOOOOOOOOOOOM!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-112471906345971189?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/112471906345971189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=112471906345971189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112471906345971189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112471906345971189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/08/so-this-is-how-ima-go-out.html' title='So this is how I&apos;ma go out...'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-112248173810952312</id><published>2005-07-27T11:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T13:42:26.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Buy This Album...</title><content type='html'>This is my endorsement, unsolicited albeit, but here it is...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 73px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="73" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7237/1085/320/Raheem.jpg" width="146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rarely buy CD's anymore because, honestly mostly people come out with only about one or two hits per album and that's not enough to motivate me to get out to a store. Music is a bore nowadays, even R &amp; B has been reduced to "let me hit it" type lyrics. What happened to the Earth, Wind and Fire's and Marvin Gaye's, shit - what the hell happened to D'Angelo? Needless to say these modern day R &amp;amp; B slackers (and we all can think of a few) only motivate me enough to download those one or two hit songs from the internet. But I sought this album out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raheem Devaughn's, The Love Experience is a must have. Not only is he from the D.C. Metro area, (BONUS) but this boy can sing. He sings so smoothly about love and it's "what ifs", promises and hopeful beginings. What I love most about this album is that he is saying what I want to hear and it's solidly refreshing. Go Raheem. Check him out at &lt;a href="http://www.theloveexperience.com/"&gt;http://www.theloveexperience.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-112248173810952312?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/112248173810952312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=112248173810952312' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112248173810952312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112248173810952312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/07/go-buy-this-album.html' title='Go Buy This Album...'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-112240982984343400</id><published>2005-07-26T14:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T11:10:17.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Things Frowned Upon in the workplace</title><content type='html'>This is a list of things we have seen people do or may be guilty of doing ourselves. Is any of this you? Don't be that office offender man. Get help. I'm just saying if this is you, you need to cover your tracks cause someone has spotted you and taken note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#10. &lt;strong&gt;The XEROX copy jam offender&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this you? Are you constantly using that same, old F-ed up copier that your office refuses to replace but KNOWS doesn't work worth a damn? I mean this sucker jams on the wekends when no one is even there. Look, you know it jams and so do I so be prepared. It's 2005, these copiers walk you through un-jaming process. So the next time you are copying an expense report, don't yell out, "son of a bitch!" and run away to the next printer down the hall, only to leave your damn papers somewhere in the recesses of the copier fo rthe next man to un-clog. Just take a minute to follow the visual guide right on the damn printer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9. &lt;strong&gt;Excited Announcement Guy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you pressed to be the first to tell everyone that you finally got a parking space IN the building? Do you stand up, stretch and yawn, "going to SoHo cause it's that time." every day around 12:30? How come you are talking to everyone and NO ONE at the same time? Who cares if it's your lunch time, do YOU but do it silently. This person has also been known to walk into the department meetings late to proclaim that the &lt;em&gt;free&lt;/em&gt; Starbuck's in the break room is, "The Shit, ain't it?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8&lt;strong&gt;. The Tantrum thrower&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular person is always spoiling an office get together. You know when everyone has crammed into the board room for the monthly birthday celebration or holiday gathering. Are you known for storming out of the room after feeling "shafted" for not winning the drawing for the $25 gift certificate to CVS or extra personal day of leave? This is just a giveaway. You didn't have it to begin with, so it's not like you lost anything. No one in HR is secretly taking your name of the list but if you keep this up, one day you could come to work to find that your pass key doesn't work. Slow down on the public displays of disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7. &lt;strong&gt;The Rhetorical Office Giggler&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not quite sure if this is you or a colleague? Let me tell you, if you have a mini portable TV in your cube or are streaming audio every day from your favorite radio show via the 'net and you can't help but respond out loud to what you hear, this is YOU. I shouldn't be hearing you five cubicles away going, "Ah, Wendy Williams.Girl you'se a trip!" or "Damn that Victor Newman!" You don't want anyone to know that these are your secret worktime escapes. Shhhhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6. &lt;strong&gt;The Nap Bandit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the ultimate no-no and getting caught can mean you are canned. Are you creeping into your vacationing colleague's office to take a nap on his couch? Are you closing your own door at lunch time to get under your desk with your calls forwarded to your voicemail? If this is you, you need to stop. I can't even say anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5. &lt;strong&gt;The Speaker Phone Jerk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you answer your phone on speaker like you are in the kitchen cooking fried chicken? Do you come into work and check your messages from over the weekend using the speaker feature? Even worse, are you the asshole who regularly takes conference calls in your office, feet on the desk, reclined back in your chair with the damn door WIDE open? Be courteous to your neighbors. Another thing I can't stand is when people in offices love to talk as loudly as possible (as if using a speaker phone) to colleagues and never close their doors. These are the same people who peer out at you (who sit in an open space) as if YOU are disturbing THEM with your conversation while they work. My advice for these jerks: Take advantage of your doors and close them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4. &lt;strong&gt;Monitor Encroachers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are a special kind of people. They think they are sly but they ain't. They run up on you as if in a hurry needing to borrow something or asking to look at your outlook schedule OR perhaps they "need" you to help them with something they can't figure out on their own PC. Yeah right. They know good and well there is some type of established barrier between them and you. A "Buffer Zone", if you will, that limits the proximity they can have to you, your desk supplies and most importantly, your monitor. These ne'er do-goods always, no matter how much in a hurry they seem, have time to glance out of the corner of their eye or lean over your desk to catch a glimpse of what &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;may&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;may not&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; be up on your screen. Fall back, you damn eye hustlers! These "office spies" work for no one but themselves. They are just plain nosy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3. &lt;strong&gt;The Supply Order Junky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gotta watch out for these bammas. They are in charge of ordering and approving supply orders at your job. They always seem to "come up" on the right stuff. As frequently as it's done, many people turned a closed eye to those who take a pad on post-it notes home or use some extra paper clips here and there, but don't think SOMEONE, doesn't know about the digital camera you bought online and tried to charge to the operations department. Caution, if you are going to do this know that you face the ultimate consequence for not hooking your peoples up, especially if you are bargging about it. Victimless crime, you are thinking to yourself, huh? The office only does audits every ten years and by then you'll be gone. This is a thief's ticket to no-where's-ville. Don't be that offender who claims they are ordering a dry-erase board to keep the "office straight" when really you are taking it home to organize your kids' after-school and weekend activites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2. &lt;strong&gt;The User&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular person thinks that the office is fair game for them to complete PTA activities and that the supplies at work are at their discretion. Are you using photoshop to make a presentation for little Day-jah's 5th birthday? Is Nanny turning 90 this year? Let me give you a word of advice. This type of slickery should only be done &lt;strong&gt;before&lt;/strong&gt; or &lt;strong&gt;after&lt;/strong&gt; normal work hours. You will eventually get caught. Ain't nothing worse than to think you're getting away with something until you realize you just left pictures from your cousin Nay-Nay's baby shower sitting on the color copier. Even worse, from your sister's bachelorette party. Your co-worker's should not have a mental image of MYSTIKAL, male stripper extraodinaire, flippin you up in the air. Think, before you USE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1. &lt;strong&gt;The Lunctime Shoppers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, now I know we've all run out to get some earrings for the club. Or picked up some lotion or a birthday card at the CVS because it's right across the street from the job. I am not talking about those people. I am talking about the addicts. The ones who know when every major sale will hit, which department stores downtown and the metro stops through which to access them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry to say, but these people are working at a Federal Agency near you! They will tell their supervisors that they are having a lunch with "an old acquaintence" whom they haven't seen in a while. This is just the back story, the "set-up". The reasonable excuse as to why their normal 30 minute lunch break has turned into 1.5 hours of an un-accounted for disappearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These people are out-of-control. Do they THINK that not &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; person from the office might not spot them walking up the street with two handfulls of bags from Hecht's or Filene's ?(the most patronized stores for these offenders) They think they have it all worked out, going in "the side way" then scurrying up the hallway to leave their bags with the receptionist who "got their back" so they don't have to try to sneak any of those bags passed anyone's office. These people are guilty of the GRANDFATHER of all crimes frowned upon in the office. The lunchtime fakeout!They have been known to sneak off during building fire drills as well. After 15 minutes of waiting and watching for the fire trucks, they think it's a green light into a lunch break. Don't let it be like 10:45 in the morning you might not see Shanita and them again until 2 p.m.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-112240982984343400?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/112240982984343400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=112240982984343400' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112240982984343400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112240982984343400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/07/top-10-things-frowned-upon-in.html' title='Top 10 Things Frowned Upon in the workplace'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-112197745804249694</id><published>2005-07-21T15:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T15:24:18.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Observations for Ya Mind</title><content type='html'>OK so everybody knows GINUWINE, right?&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7237/1085/320/gizzle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Why does that bamma look just like M.C. Brains?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7237/1085/1600/brains.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7237/1085/320/brains.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cause it's the same guy! You woulda thought about it too if you were as bored at work as I am. Stay tuned for more random observations coming soon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-112197745804249694?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/112197745804249694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=112197745804249694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112197745804249694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112197745804249694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/07/random-observations-for-ya-mind.html' title='Random Observations for Ya Mind'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-112007500349480483</id><published>2005-06-29T14:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T10:48:07.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cocosho Awards</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bet.com/Assets/BET/Published/image/jpeg/4fc4e125-1c24-70c4-1ed4-c8eb8fda27ed-"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes, yes Ladies and gentlemen you saw 'em, I saw 'em The &lt;strong&gt;2005 BET AWARDS.&lt;/strong&gt; Here is my run down of the sitchiation as it were...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's kick it off with the ground rules that Jada and Will laid down at the beginning of the show...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 A three homeboy limit on the acceptance speeches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 No bright suits or gold goblets (Bishop Don Magic Juan -you're short)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 Do not thank God if you cannot perform your work in Church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we'll talk about who did and did NOT adhere to these rules later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My top three picks for &lt;strong&gt;fashion forward female&lt;/strong&gt; were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eva Pigford&lt;/strong&gt; - Eva the Diva set it off in her couture baby doll dress. Her figure was perfect for the petite frock and her shoes were killin' em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gabrielle Union&lt;/strong&gt; - Once again her nice figure was complimented buy a short dress. Her hair was simple and beautiful and her shoe game was real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jada Pinkett-Smith &lt;/strong&gt;- Usually at these damn shows go way too overboard trying to get the host/hostess to change their clothes every other time we see them and it can be a bit much. Jada looked tasteful and hip with her wardrobe and hairstyle changes. Her make-up was flawless as well! MD Stand up one time for Miss Jada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*honorable mention goes to: no one, Wardrobe people -where &lt;em&gt;were&lt;/em&gt; you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Top three picks for &lt;strong&gt;fashion forward Male&lt;/strong&gt; were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;T.I.&lt;/strong&gt; - Yes little Boney McSkninny got all dressed up in a suit and hung it well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Common&lt;/strong&gt; - Praise be to Common's new stylist. She's got an agenda and I'm lovin it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;David Banner &lt;/strong&gt;- Once again the South is representin. There is nothing like a Southern Gentleman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*honorable mention goes to: that sexy-ass dude from NYPD Blue. You are HOT, buddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now onto the 2005 Cocosho Awards...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;what the hell are you wearing?&lt;/strong&gt; award goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ciara&lt;/strong&gt; - three words, hot ass mess. If I were Beyonce I would just look at her and laugh. Hey Ciara- get an original look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;I need attention&lt;/strong&gt; award goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivica A. Fox &lt;/strong&gt;- Did y'all see the way she bogarded right passed little Jada to get the Spotlight next to Anthony Anderson on stage? Okay, like Viv we are soooooo over you now. Dating 50 Cent was career suicide and you further sealed the deal by dancing atop the stage on the MTV Awards for l'il jon. If you are an aspiring actress the world should not see your ass cheeks as people sing "to the windows, to the walls..." C'mon boo, white Hollywood doesn't even know you yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;We over-did it&lt;/strong&gt; award goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Destiny's Child &lt;/strong&gt;- The clothes, the hair, the asses in the air. They just did too damn much. And don"t look surprised when Bob Johnson offers to stick around if you give up the lap action Beyonce. You peddle your hot ass around for millions of dollars. Hey it worked. Your parents are rich off of &lt;em&gt;YOUR JELLY&lt;/em&gt;, That ass is sending some lucky record exec's kid to college. So don't look so surprised when people (even a damn CEO) say what's on their mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;I'm so blown you KEEP winning awards&lt;/strong&gt; ward goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alicia Keys&lt;/strong&gt; - WTF? Sit your ass down for a second. She has female R&amp;amp; B category ON LOCK. Ok, Alicia you are good but there were some very worthy nominees in her category, most notably Mariah Carey. I do like AKeys, but she's only winning because she cornered the market on piano playing and soulful singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;BEST COMEBACK&lt;/strong&gt; award goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Toni Braxton &lt;/strong&gt;- if you thought I was going to say Lauryn Hill u must not have seen what I saw last night. Oh Toni you came back with such grace and class. If this were a few years ago she would give Ms. Viv A Fox a run for her money in the "I need attention" category. Very classy, Toni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;Schoolin 'Em&lt;/strong&gt; award goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gladys Knight &lt;/strong&gt;- Not only was her career praised in a stunning tribute, she got right up there and tooted her own horn with a flawless vocal performance, showing everyone why she deserved that award. She's still got it. Ladies, take note about what you give an audience when you want longevity. (cough cough -Whitney, Ashanti, Ciara and all you other fools busy on your way out - Smoking, snorting and drinking will ruin your voice. Also what will you sing when you can't take your clothes off on stage anymore?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;Hot Ass Mess&lt;/strong&gt; award goes to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remy Ma -&lt;/strong&gt; did y'all see her? Sheesh! When your breasts want to go their own way it's best to just wrap them suckers UP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'd like to take time out and just generally rip people apart for the stupid shit they did last night....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 - Anyone who was up there lip-syncing partially or fully deserves to be slapped. You don't deserve to be awarded a damn thing. If you can't dance and sing (Omarion, CIARA) or even stand still and sing (LAURYN) then don't even get on stage. You are &lt;em&gt;on&lt;/em&gt; TV. Everyone can see you are not Singing. I only respect performers who give their all &lt;strong&gt;at all&lt;/strong&gt; times. Study up on Janet Jackson and see why she has 20+ years in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 - The Game - enough said you are wack. Your son was you date cause no one is your friend. You sit alone at your table in the hip- hop cafeteria of life. I only paid attention cause you brought my girl Mary on stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 - Alicia Keys didn't you know what your stomach looked like before you put that see through blicky on? Girl, you are phat in all the right places but you are also fat in one of the most crucial. Get on Kanye's work out plan or hide the gut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 - That nigga who was in the back for Mike Jones' performance. Re-read rule number #2. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5- Lauryn Hill you just played yourself. Your 'fit was CRAZY. Who sold you that bow-tie?&lt;br /&gt;Was it weighing down your throat and is that the reason why you sounded like some shit? It's been like 4 years, whatever that man did to you, get over it! Pick yourself up. I saw you on Def Poetry and was like DAAAAAAAYUM! It is curtains for you. Note to all: See what happens when you stop practicing your craft?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 - Wu-Tang - that was the most half-assed R.I.P. tribute to anyone I have ever seen. Get some lines together and make your shit believable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7 EVERYONE who didn't show up to get their award [except: Denzel (cause can't nobody say anything bad about my boo)] showed the utmost disrespect for the BET Awards. I'd snatch my awards back if I were Bob Johnson. Shaq and Usher didn't have anything better to do and they know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall the 2005 BET Awards were the best yet. Experience pays off! Hats off, guys. Too bad you sold out to the man (Viacom) but that's a whole other blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-112007500349480483?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/112007500349480483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=112007500349480483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112007500349480483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/112007500349480483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/06/cocosho-awards.html' title='The Cocosho Awards'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-111601732547108525</id><published>2005-05-13T15:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T10:49:46.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 things said by men to disarm and distract women during an argument</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;It has been my experience that men believe women take way too much time to get their points across especially if the point women are making is that they are frustrated, angry or salty about what the aforementioned man did/said or forgot to do/say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introducing the top ten responses you are most likely to get during an argument with your man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. You know my phone doesn't work at my dad's house&lt;br /&gt;Okay this kind of response is usually what pops a normal question off into something that will be bigger. Guys, I know you are thinking, "this could be a legitimate statement." And yes, it could. But ladies - you know your man and if your intuition tells you to probe farther, do it because there is a big possibility that this is his default excuse; designed not only to satisfy any curious or introducing question about his whereabouts but to also dead any further discussion in the future about why his phone didn't ring when he is "at [his] dad's house". Coming up with a perfectly legit excuse in attempts to distract you from what you really want to know... tsk tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Didn't you get my message?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;See? This is clear evidence that he thinks he can get away with just saying some crap to disarm you and throw you off of your original point. No I am not gonna argue that this is a fib because he probably DID leave you a message. But I bet he left that joint when he knew you were out of town driving through a tunnel on a conference call unable to click over. Feel me? What to do next? Press on with your point cause he clearly just did the minimum to get you off his back with that message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What makes you think that?&lt;br /&gt;Ladies you already know this is another avoidance tactic. Some simpletons might see this as his attempt to further get to know your feelings and needs. Nope, this question is used to get you to substantiate your original claim thus buying him time to weasel his way out or even pull the ultimate disarmament attempt and pull the old flip and switch. While you are busy rattling down a laundry list of times when he said ________, or when he did_________ this bamma is cooking up a whole lot of nothing to excuse his behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;7. Give me a kiss, boo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING:&lt;/strong&gt; This is a good one. When he says this your man might sense that you are really pissed and just about to your limit he will come close, put his arms around your waist try to pull you close so you can smell that sweet cologne in the well of his collar bone in hopes that you will remember that he is your man, you boo, your snuggle pie and this is how good he smells. AND if you just stop arguing about whatever it is that is on your mind you could be smellin that scent for the next 30 -40 minutes in the bedroom. I know it's tempting but don't fall for the okey doke!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;6. Did you lose weight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;If he says this he is desperate. This is another distract and Disarm attempt. He wants to flatter you and remind you of the compliments he gives you when y'all aren't in an argument. Instead of just saying damn boo (insert truthful answer or satisfactory bottom line) this fool is really going for it. Yeah, you are fine and might have lost some weight recently but how come he is noticing this now when he is backed into a corner? How come he doesn't swell up his chest and say "Yeah man, but you know my girl has a bangin body, too" When there is a video with Vida Guerra or Melissa Ford on, huh huh? My point exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Okay&lt;br /&gt;Now he is on his toes. He is pretty much concerned that you are going to keep talking and he will miss the tip off, kick-off or the club before 11 p.m. He wants you to stop, so he begins to agree with you. Don't let the smooth taste fool you. This is not an admission of guilt nor is it an apology. If that's what you're after, then don't be thrown off course. The okay will come faster and at a higher pitch and his tolerance level shrinks. Also for fun try saying okay when he tells you something then get a lawn chair, unfold it and watch the fireworks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;4. You're right, I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;You have seriously pissed him off with your nagging at this point and his plan now is to just shut your ass up as fast as possible. He doesn't want to hear anymore. He is so pissed that he can't even say this sentence convincingly. He might as well have said, "nigga please page THESE!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My Head hurts&lt;br /&gt;You done done it now girl. He is NOT going to hit you but he just wants to shake you really hard and instead of paying attention to the original issue he is picturing the "shake" in his mind. He is close to fed up. I mean he is thinking, "I told her my phone doesn't get reception, I &lt;em&gt;did &lt;/em&gt;leave a message on her phone. I just agreed with her like three damn times. I even pulled her close to give her some and that didn't work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;2. Are you finished?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;He is damn near ready to walk away from your ass. This is a critical point. You can decide to cut your losses here and let it go. Hey, sometimes you have to know that you have spoken your peace and that's all you can do. Decide how big of battle you want this to be. It's up to you girl but he is really saying this to pull your emotional strings. He is testing your patience to see how long you are going to ride this out. Don't be distracted and get mad. Don't raise your voice. Don't tell him that it is your prerogative to say what and how you feel at any time. Just continue calmly to explain your position. The more calm you are and the more matter-of-fact you sound you will throw &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt; off. He will be like, "I thought she was mad. How come she isn't shrieking yet? Why isn't her neck vein doing that thing?" your critical response to d &amp;amp; d tactic #2 is crucial. You could mess his head up. So much so that he will realize that you may, in fact, have a point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1. I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If there has been no door slamming or attempts to leave, your man will say these three words. I know you are like yeah girl, "Should I trust him? Is he playing? This is the mother of all distracting statements." Before you really go off and ruin your well crafted position in this battle of Venus and Mars, I say this: he is not playing. He is serious girl. He does love you. He hates to argue. He is actually regretting some stuff. You will get your apology now. Accept it or I will have to write a whole other blog about how women run good men away with their BULLYING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/em&gt; Men, my black brothers, let me say I love you. I love the way you walk, the way you talk. The way that well in your collar bone smells just like you. I love that fresh cut, I love that fitted. The way you whip the whip. How you hold my hips! I may love to argue but I love to make up even more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-111601732547108525?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/111601732547108525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=111601732547108525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111601732547108525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111601732547108525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/05/top-10-things-said-by-men-to-disarm.html' title='Top 10 things said by men to disarm and distract women during an argument'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-111601170374682122</id><published>2005-05-13T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T15:27:38.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know you went to a black college if...</title><content type='html'>Aw HU! I just want to put up this post as tomorrow marks my three year graduation anniversary. Congratulations to the class of 2005! It is HARD to believe that I have been away from those "school DAZE" that long. I love Howard for teaching me some GOOD lessons. I love the people I met and the person I've become because of it. Anyways I will wax poetically BISON on another post.(I am NOT the orignal author it just is so nostalgic) Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.howard.edu/commencement/2005/images/howardedu3.jpg."&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The twirler is GAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;2. The cheerleaders were larger than a size 12.&lt;br /&gt;3. The lunchroom worker wore his or her plastic cap after work!&lt;br /&gt;4. You had homemade frats (Alcorn's MF Wrecking Crew, Jackson&lt;br /&gt;State's&lt;br /&gt;Memphis Clique, TSU's and Prairie Views *Wisconsin Sleepers*, Swing Phi&lt;br /&gt;Swing and Groove Phi Groove, Virginia Union's N!gg@ Phi N!gg@) &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(Annex fourth floor, WEST SIIIIIIDE!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;5. Kappa Kappa Psi got their own tree,(even Alpha Phi Omega may&lt;br /&gt;have&lt;br /&gt;one).&lt;br /&gt;6. You knew exactly how many miles your car could go on E".&lt;br /&gt;7. The only time Security would raid the dorms was when somebody&lt;br /&gt;called because their boyfriend or girlfriend was cheating on them.&lt;br /&gt;8. The one "fine" security guard had three girls on campus&lt;br /&gt;pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;9. You climbed through the girl's dorm window late at night and&lt;br /&gt;left early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;10. You climbed through the boy's dorm window late at night and left&lt;br /&gt;early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;11. You only sat with your crew, girls, athletes, band members,&lt;br /&gt;fraternities or sororities during lunch and had your chosen table.&lt;br /&gt;12. A fight would break out if someone else sat there.&lt;br /&gt;13. Popcorn, french fries, Hot Pockets, ramen noodles were special cuisine&lt;br /&gt;in your room. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(what y'all know about microwave Rice a Roni?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;14. You could only afford to wash 2 loads of clothes a week.&lt;br /&gt;15. You scheduled your classes around the Soaps. (All My Children&lt;br /&gt;andYoung &amp; The Restless in particular).&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;I did this for my Y&amp;amp;R!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;16. You had the answers to the test from last year....which would be&lt;br /&gt;the same test this year... &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;HU Psychology WHAT WHAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;17. You went to a Black College if half-way through the semester you&lt;br /&gt;are attending class while still walking around with an incomplete&lt;br /&gt;registration packet.&lt;br /&gt;18. The majority of the black teachers are Africans.&lt;br /&gt;19. People showed up at the football game just to see the half time show then left.&lt;br /&gt;20. If the alumni dressed to impress at the football game (leather&lt;br /&gt;suits, hats, heels etc.) &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Down with those Alumni Straw Hats!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. If the Sigmas are cooking out somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;22. If the library was a known gathering place.&lt;br /&gt;23. If you stole utensils, cups or bowls from the cafeteria.&lt;br /&gt;24. If you stole milk and other beverages from the cafeteria.&lt;br /&gt;Sneaking a&lt;br /&gt;pitcher in your backpack and filling it up.&lt;br /&gt;25. If they had a monitor watching you walk "OUT" of the cafeteria&lt;br /&gt;searching&lt;br /&gt;for stolen goods.&lt;br /&gt;26. If you knew the physical plant people or janitors by first name &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(My HU crew - remember that bamma Soup from the Annex Caf?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;27. The cafeteria workers were missing more than one tooth. &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(SOUP, is this you?) two fingers in the air for SOUP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;28. The food in the cafeteria gave you diarrhea.&lt;br /&gt;29. If the food/menu changed and was suddenly edible and delicious&lt;br /&gt;during&lt;br /&gt;parents weekend or when the board members met.(steak night and w/real&lt;br /&gt;silver, luau nite etc.)&lt;br /&gt;30. The sororities started fighting each other.&lt;br /&gt;31. The alumni band was the sh*t!&lt;br /&gt;32. The best b-ball players never played for the school.&lt;br /&gt;33. The band fought after half-time.&lt;br /&gt;34. Everybody skipped class the first hot day of spring. &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(affectionately known at HU as Ground Hoes Day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;35. The Ques' were thrown off the yard &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(ALWAYS and if they could be found turning the charity auctions into booty poppin contests! .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;36. The Kappas were off the yard for hazing and fighting too.&lt;br /&gt;37. The bookstore did not get the books you needed until midterm. &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(HU)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;38. You couldn't find a job after graduation.&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt; (Can I Get an AMEN?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Campus was the hangout spot for locals.&lt;br /&gt;40. You refer to people who live around the campus as "locals"&lt;br /&gt;41. Your college is in the middle of the "hood" or "ghetto"( North&lt;br /&gt;&gt;Carolina&lt;br /&gt;Central, Howard) &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;They are &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; either dead up in the hood or in no man's land!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;42. 4 out of 10 girls became strippers. (Spelman, Virgnia Union) &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;EVERY BLACK SCHOOL HAD SOME VICTIMS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;43. It normally took 5 or more years to graduate.&lt;br /&gt;44. You spent more time in the Student Union than in the Library&lt;br /&gt;45. There were parties in the hall of the male dormitory.&lt;br /&gt;46. There was only one building with an air conditioner.&lt;br /&gt;47. There were dormitory rivalries that equaled sororities and fraternities.&lt;br /&gt;48. Your mama went there.&lt;br /&gt;49. Spades tournament was played in your dorm lobby. &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(Tony Murray that's for you!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;50. The B.M.O.C. was not the star athlete, but the one who had the&lt;br /&gt;weed.&lt;br /&gt;51. You skipped class to get your refund check. &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(LORD, YES!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. Your refund check was late.&lt;br /&gt;53. You used your work study money to buy a car.&lt;br /&gt;54. Every floor in the dorm had a barber or a beautician.&lt;br /&gt;55. They had a shoot out on campus.&lt;br /&gt;56. The corner store sold single cigarettes, 40s, blunts and chicken&lt;br /&gt;wings.&lt;br /&gt;57. Everyone hung out around a tree&lt;br /&gt;58. You got beer or weed from campus security.&lt;br /&gt;59. The Ques were always fighting another frat.&lt;br /&gt;60. Campus security carried a flashlight instead of a gun&lt;br /&gt;61. People stole books to sell to the bookstore at the end of the&lt;br /&gt;year for a party or gas money home.&lt;br /&gt;62. You came from the club and the hot water wasn't working.&lt;br /&gt;63. Even though you had elevators in the dorm, they didn't work half&lt;br /&gt;of time? Elevators? What Elevators? (if you stayed in Barbie at A&amp;amp;T, Storer&lt;br /&gt;Hall Virginia Union)&lt;br /&gt;64. Everybody had to go to the nearest Wal-mart to get a window fan&lt;br /&gt;during summer school, because the air had gone out. Air? What Air?&lt;br /&gt;65. If you had an extra person staying in the room with you the&lt;br /&gt;entire semester that was never in school in the first place. &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(A. Williams that's you boy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-111601170374682122?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/111601170374682122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=111601170374682122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111601170374682122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111601170374682122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/05/you-know-you-went-to-black-college-if.html' title='You Know you went to a black college if...'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-111583776395407203</id><published>2005-05-11T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T10:56:47.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Natural Highs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The following things make me feel absolutely fantastic and glad to be alive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;turning the radio on right as "my song" comes on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;turning on the radio to hear "Make it Last Forever"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Krispy Kreme donuts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;reminiscing on the two times I met Pharrell Williams (i'ma get cha boy!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;snow days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;being on South Beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;pedicures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;realizing there's just one more piece of _________ left in the refrigerator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;slow dancing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;the perfect fitting jean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;making love in the morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;finding money in the pocket of my jeans or my coat from last winter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;reunions with my girls (Undercover Crew - long live '98)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;dancing to live music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;day long shopping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;payday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;early dismissal for the holiday weekend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;being on the receiving end of a baby's smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;finding an extra biscuit in your Popeye's chicken dinner &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;all green lights on your way home in rush hour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-111583776395407203?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/111583776395407203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=111583776395407203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111583776395407203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111583776395407203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/05/natural-highs.html' title='Natural Highs'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-111565724109844723</id><published>2005-05-09T11:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T14:47:15.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To the asshole who sat next to me (well, on me) at the movies this weekend!</title><content type='html'>Let me preface this by saying that the theatre was crazy empty and you coulda sat somewhere ELSE! This bamma is probably blogging about me right now too but ask me if I care.&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Sorry Dr. Suess and all serious poets...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ode to a fool - you sho' was a Big'un&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hey big country! How do you do? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Did you think you heard me say I had a seat for you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No I did not, I did not infact&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;know that I would be subject for attack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I came with Jennifer just to see "Crash" who knew you'd end up crushing me with your ass!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When we arrived in the theatre so spacious, so wide who knew I would choose the wrong damn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just another question for you? Who said 6'5" 300 lbs. sits in the middle boo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Get thyneself to the edge you Knave! Grab an aisle seat! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your friends should have known that when y'all first agreed to meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nevertheless those freaking jerks stupidly chose &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;three seats in the middle right in my damn row. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lights dimmed and previews proffered There arose a great big shadow&lt;br /&gt;Big Snacks, big Drinks and your big ass in tow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Reminds me of something ol bushwick bill wrote&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;now I gotta insert a quote&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;right next to me was his seat he figured&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"but this wasn't no ordinary Ni%%a&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he stood about six or seven feet, now that's the ni%%a I be seein' in my sleep"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As he tried to get situated his friend gave him a hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;offerend to hold the snacks of big man&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But he shook his head and plopped on down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;there went my elbow rest I just got roughed like a clown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he took up his seat and some of mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;who said I wanted yours touching MY behind?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then the great mammoth began to snack&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was rained on by popcorn and discarded napkins by the stack&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as he pulled and slipped and slurped&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;his big gup soda then came the burp&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So loud, so crude and oh so smelly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;dude you smell like you got a boot in your belly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So as I grew annoyed I had to keep my comments to myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cause next to you I was the size of an elf&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I thought I could squeeze over as he finished up his soda &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I moved in for a chance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he burped again and no "excuse me" either&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;then he caught my glance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so just to rub it in his fool tried to recline&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;damn baby Huey use your seat not MINE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was tossed, I was turned and I thought just maybe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;was this the black fat bastard? Could he EAT a baby?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As the movie closed two hours had passed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I sat in fear of the aftermath. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would the great giant leap up before the movie was over?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Would I be left crushed a victim of the human Range Rover?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As the closing titles scrolled I shot up to my feet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Grabbed my purse and told Jennifer "Quick, retreat!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Move thyself nimbly before the great beast chose to rise&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"To the parking lot" away from his bulky, hulking size.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As we moved toward the door I could swear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Green Mile said, hey they gotta Golden Corral out here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So Magic Johnson theatre I might not be back for a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unless you make it mandatory for big NI%%as to sit BY THE AISLE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-111565724109844723?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/111565724109844723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=111565724109844723' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111565724109844723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111565724109844723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/05/to-asshole-who-sat-next-to-me-well-on.html' title='To the asshole who sat next to me (well, on me) at the movies this weekend!'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-111565391607618755</id><published>2005-05-09T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T14:42:09.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chivalry is Dead, it got shot in the head...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am definitely not sure when it happened or specifically why but I know this: Chivalry is dead on the damn Metro! Since when did being nice to a women go out of style?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Men, what happened? Who in the hell left the gate open? Give up your seat to a woman (especially if she is older) on the metro. Hey try it once, if you are suddenly stricken with paralysis or come up with an inexplicable skin disease from being nice -then you'll never have to do it again, I promise and send me the health bill!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I know this is the age of the independent woman: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Hollywood starlets are having babies on their own and carrying on in public with whomever they'd like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Women are slower to get married and faster to buy a house by themselves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Hell, we might even buy you a drink at the club ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;but don't let the smooth taste fool ya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In addition to the corny pick up line, a drink at the bar or the tab at the restaurant Women still have a need to be flattered and reminded of our femininity. Of course we want you to open the door for us or offer to carry a bag even if it doesn't look heavy. We still get warm inside when we get complimented on our hair or clothes or how good we smell. We want to be taken out for ice cream on a sunny afternoon in Georgetown. We'd love for you to offer to take the trash out every now after you visit. And please, please take my hand when I am getting out of your CORVETTE! (it sits low to ground, baby) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;This will not be a male bashing entry, because I am smart enough to know that I can't just lump everyone up together and hey maybe you have a commute longer than the average joe but I have just seen this become such a trend and I gotta ask "what's up?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What happened to the idea of giving up your seat to allow a woman the comfort of sitting down.? It's the most polite thing you can do and it's a small gesture of respect that goes a long way. I mean do I have to be 9 million months &lt;strong&gt;pregnant&lt;/strong&gt;, with &lt;em&gt;two&lt;/em&gt; snot-nosed kids at my side and two carts &lt;em&gt;full of groceries&lt;/em&gt; before I can get a concession?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am a woman - fairer of the two sexes and the only person who between this two of us who can keep the human race going! Give me a damn seat on the metro in the morning!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So this morning, like every other Mon - Fri I made the five minute walk to the Silver Spring Metro from my apartment building and boarded the train. Just my luck this train was already full. My car only had one empty seat that was snatched up before I even stepped in. Immediately annoyed that I wouldn't be able to comfortably read my "Express" I looked for the most convenient spot to post up and grab a bar for the next 25 minutes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Great, I found a tolerable spot but one thing stuck out so obviously. All the passengers who were sitting were MEN and not ONE offered any woman their seat. I was disgusted. There were quite a lot of older women standing up while men: black, white, east indian - middle aged and under aged were content to continue reading their morning paper or fiddle through their PDAs or just stare blankly ahead. Okay so there&lt;em&gt; were&lt;/em&gt; three women who had seats in my car's immediate area but everyone else who was seated was a man. Sure, there were men among those of us poor saps who were forced to stand but there were quite a lot of women who were holding a hand rail or sidled up next to a wall panel scanning furiously for a space that might have been overlooked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Not one man gave up their seat. Not one man offered to give any one woman their chair!!! I can't believe that a man can look at 15 women standing and not think to offer your seat. It's the metro dude. How long is your ride anyway? For most of us it's about 35 minutes on average.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Okay so maybe you are thinking, "Why is she trippin? I mean it's just the metro." yeah true, but that is my main point - if it's just the metro then why can't you just offer to brighten a woman's day by offering her your seat? We're just one day removed from Mother's Day y'all, come on! I mean I can understand someone not immediately offering me a seat. I am 25 and very healthy but try extending this courtesy to a woman who visibly is older than you. Just try offering your seat and see how good it can make that other person feel. You may not know how tired that other person is but you will surely know how grateful they are when you extend this one kind gesture. I'm saying just try it once and see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We have arrived at a sad day when we are content to be selfish and self-serving. Sure, I know work is draining but don't take your revenge on the capitalist machine out on me and these other ladies, hey the man is holding us down too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I mean does work piss us off so much and force us to spend so much time faking like we like our boss, our co-workers or even the projects that we are working on that we have no time to use our manners in the two hour window immediately preceding and following the work day to show another person kindness? Are we so pre-occupied with the expectation of bullsh*&amp;! before we step over the workforce threshold, that any other extra effort to present ourselves as professional and courteous takes a back seat to plain manners? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As we give our bosses a silent, "F^% you, I am going to Starbucks before I come in this morning." it is easy to forget our original home training: and this extends to our daily metro commutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Hey all I am saying is that women deserve a little reminder that we are still precious, still delicate appreciated and respected. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Perhaps this sub-set of Metro riding men are no longer nice to women without an ulterior motive. Maybe they need us to do something nice back or some assurance that someone else will intrinsically know that, "Earlier in the day, Bob X did something nice for Mrs. American Stranger on the metro and I should give him a break by letting him________" (insert something Bob X would be happy to catch a break for) So that's why they can't give up that seat. Well you know what? No one is ever going to know that you did that one nice thing for Mrs. American Stranger except the two of you. That should be your worthy reward sir. So "sucks" to your need to be congratulated after doing something that should come naturally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Now let me inject some disclaimers in here...I have offered my seat to a woman who was older than me. I have also been offered a seat to which I gladly accpeted on a day when whatever I had done earlier had worn my feet bare. It goes both ways if I can do it so can you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So please help ressucitate our friend Chivalry. You don't know it now but it will pay off in the long run! If you've done something chivalrous let me know...then you, me and the flattered dame who received your kindness will know what a superstar you are!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-111565391607618755?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/111565391607618755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=111565391607618755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111565391607618755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111565391607618755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/05/chivalry-is-dead-it-got-shot-in-head.html' title='Chivalry is Dead, it got shot in the head...'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12677152.post-111531864139748507</id><published>2005-05-05T13:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T13:44:01.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hey world! So this is my first post and to substantiate anything I say from this point on alIow myself to introduce myself. (er?) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Cocosho is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;5'6"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;LOUD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;a long time sufferer of "only child syndrome"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;always down for a good party!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;sensitive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;a lover of SHOES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;a native of MD (Mo' County!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;always talking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;there for my peeps in a pinch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;always dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;25 and counting...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;a Howard University Grad (2002 where u at?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;not afraid of an arguement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;an independent woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;tired of president Bush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;spoiled (but some people r refusing to get with the program)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;a sucker for a Prince song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;down for a good road trip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;not too proud for a 2 a.m. carry-out run (CHINA WONDER)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;a wiz in the kitchen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;in love with Pharrell Williams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;very clever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;thin in the waste, cute in the face ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;just one plane ride away from south beach or the vegas strip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;ready to get her blog on...enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12677152-111531864139748507?l=cocosho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/feeds/111531864139748507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12677152&amp;postID=111531864139748507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111531864139748507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12677152/posts/default/111531864139748507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cocosho.blogspot.com/2005/05/day-one.html' title='Day One'/><author><name>Cocosho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07539727277420086499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
