A New Song Is Born

Witizens:

If you didn't know, I like to play around with song lyrics and make up my own. I just posted "Love Is A Buddha-Field"; it's been in the draft bin for sometime. "Ain't No Other..." will be dedicated to my friend, and fellow Jesus Freak, Lionness Of Zion. I'm sure she'll get a kick out of this one more than most. I'm also sure CHRISTina wasn't thinking about the Lord when she wrote this little number, but I found it to be pretty insightful. Please, enjoy!

"Ain't No Other..."

Hey!!!!
I profess, Jesus!

I've been moved from the start
The way you baptized my heart
Your glowing aura caught my eye
The way you touched me deep inside
Can't stop once I realized you're heaven sent and I've been touched ever since.

(Hook)
I told the rabbis, the priests, the deacons, and the preachers
Told the sinners, the meek, the students and the teachers
That everytime I praise you I am more of a believer

I profess, Jesus!

(Chorus:)
Ain't no other man on the planet was born like you
Ain't no other man on the planet is King of Jews
You're the kind of guy that makes me born anew
You've got my soul, you gave me class, I am healed, thanks to mass
Ain't no other Christ, it's true
Ain't no other man like YOU

Never thought I'd see the light. No, no no!
Til Christ came into my life. Yeah, yeah, yeah!
What was dark now is bright! Yeah! Yeah!!


You've got the light Christ, and I need it!
So keep on lifting me up!

(Hook)
I told the rabbis, the priests, the deacons, and the preachers
Told the sinners, the meek, they better be believers
Cause I want everyone to lift your name higher than everybody else's!

Ooooh,oh oh!

(Chorus)
Ain't no other man on the planet was born like you (like you yeah)
Ain't no other man (ain't no other man) on the planet is King of Jews
You're the kind of guy that makes me born (me born) anew
You've got my soul (soul), you gave me class (class)
I am healed, all thanks to mass- yeah, yeah, yeah!!
Ain't no other Christ, it's true
Ain't no other man like YOU

(Bridge)
Lift me high now!

Ain't no other, ain't, ain't no other, (other)!!
Ain't no other, ain't, ain't no other (Brother)!
Ain't no other, I, I, I need no other!
Ain't no other man but YOU!
Ohhhh!

You are there when life's a mess
When you're here, there is no stress
Gave me strength, made me feel blessed
You're the only one who's ever made me confess!

(Chorus)
Ain't no other man on the planet was born like you (like you yeah)
Ain't no other man (ain't no other man) on the planet is King of Jews
You're the kind of guy that makes me born (me born) anew
You've got my soul (soul), you gave me class (class)
I am healed, all thanks to mass- yeah, yeah, yeah!!
Ain't no other Christ, it's true
Ain't no other man like YOU!

Faithful & True,

Not~So~Cosmo

The Ballsies

Good morning, afternoon or evening and welcome to the first edition of "The Ballsies." The Ballsies are awards for making ballsies moves in today's world full of conformity. The bigger the balls, the better. Many things inspired this award. The first would be the brief discussion from lunch yesterday. Yesterday was a suprisingly beautiful day here in Central Florida and we Rogues decided a picnic was in order. There's a great little park close to work. I've been there once and when I was, I saw a squirrel with the biggest balls I'd ever seen on a squirrel (actually I don't think I'd ever seen squirrel balls but something told me his were larger than ever.) I wished out loud yesterday as we walked to the park from the car that we would get to see the squirrel with the bigs balls. We did not. But when we got back from lunch, the Rogue Scholar did all send us "Bigs Balls" by AC/DC (thanks by the way.) And now on to the awards. All winners for this round come from TV.

Biggest Reality TV Balls: Deelishis from VH1's Flavor of Love 2. Now I'm not quite sure why this 28 year-old single mother from Detroit is in love with Flavor Flav, but I am sure that she is. On the most recent episode, Flav decided to split the 4 remaining contestants into 2 groups and take each group on a date, with the prize being a trip to his suite after dinner. Deelishis got to go with Krazy and let me tell you that Krazy is in fact crazy and she got lucky that Deelishis got sea-sick. While Krazy was on deck making out with Flav, Deelishis was bowed over thinking about how she ended up in this situation and if it was really worth it. Ultimately she decided that she DID want Flav and she wanted him all to herself. She let him know at dinner that evening that she can't stand to share her man and that he had better do something to let her know she was there for good reason or she would remove herself from the game. Flav took the bait and took D back to his room. They ended up falling asleep which was actually kind of sweet. So to Deelishis, here is your first Ballsie for putting yourself on the line and risking elimination from a show that most women wouldn't even dream about going on.

Biggest Cable TV Balls: Dr. Christian Troy from FX's Nip/Tuck. If you have never watched this show, I think you are missing out. Season 4 just started a couple of weeks ago and it's as hot as it's always been. This show takes you places no show has ever gone before. We are talking all kinds of kinky sex, steamy meetings, lines being crossed, deception.....good stuff folks, the kind of drama a girl like me lives for. My favorite person on the show is the aforementioned Christian. He's a hot surgeon fresh into his 40s who can't get enough ass. I think he sleeps with someone new every show. Usually ass is handed to him on a platter, but his newest obsession has been resistant (she is married.) On this week's episode, he got her to spill her deepest darkest secret and used that to blackmail her into sex. He told her something like "you're secret is safe with me as long as my secret is safe with you." What secret she asked. "That I slept with your husband's wife before dinner." Oh the nerve, but I love it. They knocked the boots and I bet you she enjoyed it. From next weeks clips, it looks like she can't get enough. So to Christian, here is your first Ballsie for coming up with the most clever way I've seen in a while to get some booty.

Biggest Network TV Balls: Dr. Meredith Grey from ABC's Grey's Anatomy. Last week, we left the show knowing that Meredith was going to have to make a choice between uber-sexy McDreamy (Patrick Dempsey) and the super-sexy Finn (Chris O'Donnell.) Tough, tough, tough. Like I said both guys are sexy. In case you are from another planet, Patrick Demspey was the star of the 80's classic Can't Buy Me Love (maybe not love, but how about a night alone with you?) and I fell for Chris O'Donell when he shared his Mad Love with Drew Barrymore back in 95 (he also played Robin in 2 of the Batman movies.) At the beginning of the show she wanted McDreamy (she was at work with him making "eyes" all day) but by lunch she wanted Finn (he brought her depressed friend lunch, how sweet.) She decided to leave it up to chance and flip a coin. We never see what side it lands on. What we do see is both men arriving at the bar around the same time to see what decision she has made. Except she hasn't made a decision at all, she's actually had a realization. Why should she have to choose? Can't she have both? So she tells them she wants to start "dating" both of them, hopes they can handle it, and walks out. Finn asks McDreamy if he's going to bow out and he says nope. As for Finn bowing out, not a chance. Oh this is going to be fun to watch. And so to Meredith, for not letting choices run her life and realizing that to reach her full potential, a girl's got to have options.

So those were my very first picks for my very first Ballsie awards. Please let me know if you've seen any supreme displays of cojones. Great and brave things happen everyday. And as you go out to enjoy your weekend, do this one thing for me. LET THE BALLS HIT THE WALLS.

Brashly and Brazenly Yours,

Will Work For Shoes

Witsy's Why Women Wednesday

Witizens:


It was brought to my attention by my bestest friend to get on top f writing the "Why Women Wednesday" for today. I now have Mondays and Tuesdays off, so I'm all kinds of turned around. Luckily, she also gave me the brilliant topic for today's inquiry: Why, Women, do we talk about things that WE KNOW men do not care about and expect them to listen? And not just listen, but be as emotionally charged and pumped as we are about it. I'm not innocent of what I'm accusing, and to answer my own question, I simply forget who I'm talking to during my excitement. There was recently a sale on designer sunglasses, and I told men and women alike, and when the guys gave me the half ear, I dropped the subject. It is okay to mention something, but an elongated convo involving fashion won't hold a man's attention, and we bloody well know it. I like to think that whether it is in written or spoken form, that I appealing to my audience; therefore, I stick to what they may care about. If you don't know, here's a list of things that will cause your man's eyes to glaze over:

The List:

1) Anything Fashion (clothes, shoes, makeup, models, all that we worship)
2) Soap Operas/Reality TV
3) Your Friends & Their Drama
4) Evil Coworkers
5) Your Dreams (sleep, not as in aspirations)
6) The Troubles of the World

They just don't care. You can't make them care, even if you're really passionate. Of course, there are things men talk about that we don't care for, and we tell them "I don't get it"; whether it be sports or cars (or even sports cars), we give the old, "I don't know" and it's done. Or better yet, we get distracted by the television, the phone, the housework just when we start to be bored by the conversation. Suppose men just started saying, "Reality t.v., well...I don't know", or reached for the phone, remote control, or video controller. We would be furious and accuse them of not caring for US because we care so much. It's in fact a double standard. Why do we get mad when they don't listen, but we don't have to listen as much?

So, if today's topic falls on deaf ears, I understand. It is so hard not to tell a lover what we are passionately moved by. But maybe, just maybe we could stop being so impassioned by every little thing. Or so verbal about our passions. Better yet, why not just keep these topics to discuss with your best friend, because we all know you're going to anyway? Why must we talk about the same thing with more than one group of people, especially with a group that could care less? I would love any feedback, but do me this one favor. Please don't go telling your man about this article of Why Women Wednesday and this chick Not~So~Cosmo unless he is truly interested.


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

**Previous "Why Women Wednesday" posts can be found at http://mantrix.blogspot.com, and future "Why Women Wednesday" entries will be posted on Witsy as well. Enjoy!**

Bush, New Orleans, And Saints...

Witizens:

No! I'm not about to Kanyeezie out on Witsy, if that's what you're thinking. Today, I'd like to address Monday Night Football and the only Bush that showed up in New Orleans on time: Reggie Bush. Last night's football game, Atlanta Falcons vs. New Orleans Saints was a monumental game. The stadium was hurriedly completed before the game, and finally, The Saints have their Superdome back after a little over a year. Le sigh. I do hope that the levees get the same attention as the football stadium. I know to some, "football is life", but we all know how many lives are truly at stake with sandbags holding back an ocean. Dammit, I am about to K.West it up... I'm done.

When The Saints Came Marching In...

From the moment the pigskin was kicked off, The Saints were the hungriest team on the field. It was so obvious. It was their first game at home in months, their stats for home games in previous seasons are lackluster, and R. Bush has loads to prove as the star freshman (nicknamed "Baby Matrix" by teammate Horn). Did I mention the THOUSANDS of screaming, emotional fans in the stadium? It was as if their hopes of rebuilding their city depended on a victory. It was as if victory depended on their high hopes. Or perhaps it was simple hope they have been wanting all along... I can't decide. All I know is that I never believed ATL had a chance last night, and they are my favorite team in the NFL. That game was over before it began; The Saints were dead set on playing like Gods, and the fans seemed to be filled with the Holy Ghost. By the end of the game, The Saints were playing so magnificient and electrifying that I renamed them "Category 5" or "Cat 5 Boys". I know, I'm an ass.

The Dirty, Nasty, Filthy South...

As much as I enjoyed the game, I couldn't help feeling inundated with "Visit New Orleans, PLEASE". There was interview after interview with celebs saying that Nw Orleans needs tourism to get back on its feet. I want to get some things straight. First, I'd feel the place was safe enough to visit when I see that the residents can return home. Second, the clips they showed of New Orleans last night weren't really my ideal vacation spots. Third, I'd like to see a dam be built to hold back the ocean... please! I mean, there's the Hoover and Niagara Falls to keep water at bay, but sandbags to hold back the ocean?! What the fuck? Even beavers know to build dams to protect themselves. I propose some dam be built for a city that lies below sea level. I also propose it be called "God"... New Orleans very own God Dam.

I'm all about seeing New Orleans, and every other city that was rocked by Katrina, bounce back. Truly, I am. But, before tourism, commercialism, and consumerism can be fully addressed, I'd like to see a bit of humanism.

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

The Man With A Thousand Names

Witzens:

"Can't stop, won't stop... Bad Boy For Life". Thank God at least one thing is consistent with Puff Daddy-Puffy-P. Diddy-Diddy. It seems he can't stop and won't stop renaming himself; his fucking nicknames have nicknames. You're just being greedy, Mr. Combs (the only proper name I'm willing to call him). I am not a fan of his, clearly, even though I like some of his music, and the originals that he bit off of. Well, he does have some big ass chompers, so biting is a natural reaction. I know today's music is a regurgitation of music from the past, but Diddy Pop is the king of that shit. Okay, let me just stick to the main thing that seems to be rubbing me wrong with Sir Diddy; his fucking dancing antics.

In Poppa Didd's new video with Nicole (that Pussy Cat Doll), "Come To Me", Pus Daddy is a dancing machine. He never stops dancing through the entire video, even when he's walking upstairs. Nicole, who is in fact a professional dancer, dances far less than he does. Did I mention Poofy can't dance? That shucking and jiving looks reminiscent of the old time movies in which black people danced to entertain Sir Whitey. Yeah, I said it. Diddy wears the modern day Black Face (if you don't what that is, look it up). At his age, I would expect a more reserved atmosphere, and with him owning Bad Boy Entertainment, I'd expect a more respectable swagger. He looks so pressed all the time.

Hopefully, Pressed Daddy won't read Witsy and decide to write a song or make up a dance to battle me. I could just see him now, and it's sad. I just wish he'd chill out and realize he's made it, so there's no need to be so Over The Top with everything. No more dancing off the stage at fashion award shows. No more dancing... Period. No more arguing with female entertainers about who made Proactive popular. No more mouth breathing; close that trap. No more name changing! Pop Diddy, just no more Black Face.

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

They Call Me Mellow Yellow (Quite Rightly)

Witizens:


"I'm just mad about 'Saffron'..." Truly, I do feel a bit mad these days. I have been in a world of whirling and twirling for the last week. Yes, the Ice Cold Princess who does not get all emotionally attached is going cuckoo for cocoa puffs. Le sigh. Isn't it wonderful/dreadful how guys get you all twitterpated? Ahhhhh. I could just scream! I literally just did. I've been wearing this Ronald McDonald grin for the past few days and I simply can't stop (won't stop) gushing with exuberant happiness. AHHHHH!!!! I want to slap myself for being this girly, but I'm just too damn cute about it. I'm pretty sure my closest friends (who know far better than anyone else how unattainable and closed off I am) are loving this spectacle of girl mushiness. OH! How the mighty hath fallen! Lap it up, ladies. The spell may be broken soon. Enjoy it while you can.

In the past, I would try to create a cure for my ailment: lovesickness. Now that I'm older, and somewhat wiser, I'm going to let this feeling ride out. No self manipulation to distract me from those butterflies in my tummy. I'm going to act like an adult about this... And continue to twirl and giggle all the time. If you don't have the pleasure of knowing me, let me assure you, I embody the spirit of a 5 year old. So, if you will, imagine a 5 year old totally smitten with her beau. I get all excited, and can barely even speak without getting all... all... AHHHH!!! LOL!!! He makes me totally bananas, and I can't help but be all..umm... Well, clearly not verbose. I can't even speak it or write it without wanting to scream.

For any male who's reading this, let this affirm that women are crazy. Or at least I am. It is highly possible a guy wouldn't even know what I was talking about altogether. "Twitterpated? Smitten? HUH?" Well, ladies will have better insight as to what I'm talking about, even if they don't use the same terminology. What they might not understand is why I'm trying to escape puppy love as if it were Cujo puppy love. What I don't understand is how I can tell the world and not the man that makes me twirl. When I come up with these answers, you Witizens will be the first to know. Until then, hugs and kisses from the Mrs...

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Life is a Buddha-field

CHORUS:
We are stoned, coughing to chestache we toke
No money, no ganja to smoke
Life is a Buddha-field
We love bongs, no one can tell us it's wrong
Smoking these buds for so long, both of us burning
Life is a Buddha-field

You're begging me for cash, and makin' me wait
Why do you cheat me so bad
It would help me to know how long this deal will take
Or should I call someone else
Believe me, yes truly, I can find another guy
But I'm trapped by your buds, cause they're making me high

We are stoned, coughing to chestache we toke
No money, no ganja to smoke
Life is a Buddha-field
We love bongs, no one can tell us it's wrong
Smoking these buds for so long, both of us burning
Life is a Buddha-field

We're out of of minds, will you help me stay awake
Or leave me to pass out?
And if I fall asleep, will you smoke 'til you get baked?
There's no way this evens out
But if we split the sack up, it won't do much good
Cause you've taken too much, much more than you should

We are stoned, coughing to chestache we toke
No money, no ganja to smoke
Life is a Buddha-field
We love bongs, no one can tell us it's wrong
Smoking these buds for so long, both of us burning
Life is a Buddha-field

(Break)

We are stoned, coughing to chestache we toke
No money, no ganja to smoke
Life is a Buddha-field
We love bongs, no one can tell us it's wrong
Smoking these buds for so long, both of us burning
Life is a Buddha-field


Original Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar

CHORUS:
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

You're beggin' me to go, and makin' me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know do I stand in your way
Or am I the best thing you've had?
Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why
But I'm trapped by your love, and I'm chained to your side

CHORUS

We're losing control will you turn me away
Or touch me deep inside?
And if all this gets old, will it still feel the same?
There's no way this will die
But if we get much closer, I could lose control
And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold

CHORUS

(Break)

CHORUS

"Snakes on a Plane"... the Show

Witizens:

So I'm driving along this morning to the Big RED Machine, and I hear on the local radio station that there is a new reality t.v. show inspired by the film Snakes on a Plane. I know yesterday I wrote this country needs a hero, but I had no idea how badly. Perhaps it would be wise to explain the premise of this new evidence of the populations retardation.

To begin with, (imbecile) contestants will be put on a commercial liner plane with the staff and crew safely tucked away, and they will have to survive the 12-14 hour flight with 200 various snakes aboard with them. Sounds crazy enough? No? Okay, well let's just suppose 5 out of these 200 are poisonous, and it is one objective (and perhaps the most important as well) not to get bit by the poisonous ones. If a contestant gets bitten by a poisonous snake, they will be administered the anti-venom, eliminated, and mocked around the world for years to come. (Has the world gone mad?!!!) The prize for this wreckless display of television obsession is an all expense vacation in the destination of the plane... Filled with snakes. It is an option to fly out friends, and the whole trip is paid for. So, in actuality, it doesn't offer a cash prize; just a vacation and snake bites. Ooh, can't forget the 5 minutes of fame also... I always forget that prize.

I hate to stereotype, but just like "Fear Factor", I don't expect to see many "people of color" on this show at all. That's white folk shit. Now, if the show was "Pimp my Plane", I could see it being eclectic, but snakes... oooh no! If I prove to be mistaken, and there is an ethnic contestant, I expect another breakdown in the fashion of Samuel L. Jackson: "I'm so muthafuckin' sick of these muthafuckin' snakes on this muthafuckin' plane!!!"; CLASSIC!!! I could go see it again for that alone. What I can't see is why real people would want to emulate what is too dangerous for actors/actresses and a film crew to pull off. Those weren't real snakes people, nor was it really on a goddamn plane! There are easier ways to earn a free vacation, and safer ways to land yourself on the tele. I promise.

I'm not sure what annoys me most about "Snakes on a Plane: The Reality Show", the premise or the prize. Or perhaps the people. Those who will line up for days to sleep outside to await a chance to audition for a spot next to a make-up artist who knows the casting person who might introduce them to a panel judge who might let them sneak their way to the top of the list so they could spend hours trying to avoid snake bites on a plane. Yeah... I think it's all of the above.

The only reason I would watch 10 minutes of this show is to see someone get bitten. I think everyone is on the same plane.


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Is there a "Doctor" in the House?

Witizens:

It has been quite some time... A thousand apologies. I've been going hither and thither, and well, it happens. In the past few days, I have been meaning to address my disdain for another T.V. personality: Dr. Phil. Introduced to the world by the cult leader, Oprah, he grew into an overnight success, and perhaps one of the most overrated doctors on the planet. He was even nominated as one of "America's Top 100 Heroes", right up there with our founding fathers. Bravo America!! Dr. Fucking Phil!!! Either he is the most brilliant doctor that ever lived, or this country needs some more heroes. STAT!!!

I remember this super fantastic guy that I adore (he's actually a "King" amongst men) once asked me, "Do you like Dr. Phil?" I answered, "hell no", and then had to add that "I don't really watch the show; however, from what I have seen, I don't like him". He thought I deffo would because I'd like to be a therapist at some point, and I do believe in calling out when people are being ridiculously stupid. So, naturally, he assumed that I would like Dr. Phil's style of therapy. Now, I hate to Tom Cruise out, but I am an expert on psychology! Dr. Phil is an expert on common sense, at best. This man has such outlandish show guests that his "expert advice" would also be offered by my 9 year-old nephew. There, I'll call him Dr. Jeffrey from now on.

The absolute worst, and this is the icing on the cake, is that Dr. Phil is getting yet another television series. In this new debacle, he will have a family move into a house that is complete with a camera in every room. After a few stays, Dr. Phil himself will move into the house with the family, for what I guess will result in 24 hours of videotaped therapy. Wow! Not even Freud was this involved, and his case studies went on for decades. Dr. Phil "Good" promises us, the audience, that "It's the realest reality T.V. you're gonna get!"... I assure you all, audience, that it won't be. The moment a camera is introduced, it all stops being real and becomes really crappy. I believed I liked the concept better when it was called, "Big Brother"; at least they had drama and sex in the house (if there is sex on Dr. Phil's show, I'm going to be disturbed forever!!!).

It seems as though our nation is in search of a hero, but if our last ditch effort is Dr. Phil, or even better, that gestapo Oprah... Well, then we are worse off than we ever thought. The T.V. can't save us, not even if it is Reality Television. It simply rots your brains; I thought the Real World 27 and Road Rules 19 taught us that. Tsk Tsk.


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo