If you laughed like I did, you too will be headed to hell.
With a stick of dynamite in your hand.
And gasoline draws on.
I promise that my next post will be an actual blog. You know. With words.
It’s been forever, twelve days, seven nights, seventeen hours, eleven minutes and three point nine eight five six eight days since I’ve posted an actual blog and after what I saw earlier? I had to break my self imposed blogging silence—btw, those updates that came in from my cell didn’t count strictly because I said they didn’t—and give the blogosphere a good ol’ dash of Mz. Ren.
Before I continue…
During my absence, a lot has happened, and for those of you who don’t follow me on Twitter—not only should you because my Tweets amuse the world and brighten up peoples lives quite like my light skinned, rather attractive self—a lot means: Quan and I had this major disagreement, we didn’t speak for a month during which time I could’ve lost him from the sheer stupidity of what had happened; as I suffered the symptoms of a broken heart there was this shooting incident; drama wit’ the fam; finals at school; my poor, sweet laptop has decided to suddenly not connect to the Internet and those assholes at Dell are bullshitin’ somethin’ serious; my bastard father tried to make an appearance in my life and all the other bullshit, nonsense and drama that runs rampant in my everyday life. Yeah, those of you who actually stumble upon my shit missed a lot like I said. However, now (1:11 AM) is not the time to get into that, I’d be here all damn night and as it is, I have a lot to say and Ren would like for to get to sleep and soon.
Now, I shall proceed.
I was not tryin’ to spend my Friday night seein’ some whack play thrown by my church—curse like the proverbial sailor though I may, believe in God I do so yes, I do attend church regularly. Don’t judge me—because I get enough of the whackness at Christmas, Easter and every time they decide to do some ill-advised, little rehearsed skit in service on select Sunday mornings. Now, whack though they may be, those plays? Yeah, they’re free, this one cost twenty dollars. To borrow a phrase from the Consistently Broke Niggas of America, or CBNA for short:
“Nigga, it’s a recession! We ain’t got twenty dollars fo’ some damn play.”
[Well said Tyrone, Ray-Ray and Pookie]
I was planning on using that or some more eloquent and much more intelligent version of the former as an excuse as to why I didn’t buy a ticket, but turns out, I didn’t have to. Mom decided to buy me one. How very generous of her. She must have known that I was just dying for to see the play.
Ah, picked up on my sarcasm did you? Good, you’re not as dumb as some of the things you do then.
So anyways, seven o’clock Friday night rolls around and my phone; my poor, dependable, been there for me through hell, high water, rain sleet and snow LG Rant, not only is it acting like a damn tweek monster with only like two of the buttons on the number pad working (thank God that I have the QWERTY keyboard or I would be totally and royally screwed) but the piece of shit didn’t even wanna charge for me. And it’s not like I have insurance on the bitch, those bastards at Alltel were bullin’ about lettin’ me purchase it for mine mobile device. Douche bags.
So, with a heavy heart, I left my phone at home which was hard for me y’all. I have become addicted to Twitter—I reached 10,500 updates yesterday, what does that tell you?—and not being able to tweet about the nonsense that I knew the play was gonna be just hurt my heart. Luckily I had my mp3 player with me or I woulda gone totally insane and wouldn’t have been able to focus on the recklessness that I was soon to witness.
The fam and I made our way downtown to the main campus of Lansing Community College (yes, it’s as bogus as it sounds, I happen to go there, believe me when I say it) and within minutes we were seated in the Dart auditorium to watch LCOGiC’s production of Calvary. Never heard of it? Didn’t think you would have. Think that it shoulda been shown around, oh, I dunno, Easter based on the name? Yep, you ain’t the only one.
Now, the tickets—that I helped my mother make by the way—and the program stated that the doors wouldn’t open until 7:30 with a curtain at 8:00, but when we saw people seated in the auditorium when we got inside at 7:15, we decided to find seats for ourselves as well. However, when we walked inside the auditorium, The Phantom of the Sound Room from my church decided that walking in when we did was rude for some reason still unknown to me seeing as there were at least twenty other people that were scattered around the room. Upon hearing his nonsense I turned and gave him one of the looks that my mom told me makes people want to curl up and die (can you believe that she thought I would take that as an insult? If anything, y’all can blame her for me perfecting the look) then stalked off to find a seat away from my family. As they often do in situations when I don’t want them to, they found me and decided to sit down next to me.
My gurlie Kamara, her cousin Toya and Toya’s low-key girlfriend Tracy (btw, I know about y’all. I don’t really care, as long as y’all are happy do what ya does) came and sat next to me. My lil sisters friend and my play sister Kayla came through a few minutes later and they went to go sit together. A little after 7:45 before the masses of people on CP time showed up, my mother decided that she would leave the teenagers to do their talking and she went to go sit with my godmother where she stayed for the entire play.
Kamara and I were talking and I was taking a mental note of all the bad lace fronts, phony pony’s, weird ass color combinations and other hair disasters for Weave Watch 2K9 when all of a sudden, this totally random and cute but not even remotely fine light skinned dude pops out on the stage and starts doin’ this totally improvised stand up routine. This is the time that all the late early comers—they showed up before the curtain time but way after 7:30—decided to show up and I was getting annoyed at the number of asses that were in my face as these people stepped over and on me in search of seats. Deciding not to even give dude a listen, I pulled out my handy dandy Sony 8G Walk Man and listened to whatever song it was that was randomly selected for me to listen to. Ol’ Lightskin up on stage had elicited a few laughs from the audience when he introduced some random guy that he said worked with Brian McKnight. I never heard of him before and his name wasn’t even important enough for me to remember, but I decided to take off my headphones and listen to him anyways.
The Singer Person Dude looked vaguely familiar to me but I knew that I had never seen him before in my life and I was drawing a blank as to who he reminded me of. Kamara leaned over and said, “I didn’t know that Fred Hammond’s little brother was gonna be here.” That’s when it hit me and I couldn’t stop giggling. Singer Person Dude did look a lot like Fred Hammond, porcine features and all. I told Karma that wasn’t nice then she gave me her "dude, do I look like I’m concerned with niceness?” look. Before I could comment on the look, the curtain opened and Calvary began.
I immediately thought that God was gonna strike me dead for the things that I was gonna do and say during the play because right at the very beginning y’all…
This lady from my church that I’ve known in passing for years was cast as “The Mother” in the play. Why she had no real name Ren knowest not but there you go. The play opened with her in her sons hospital room screaming and praying to God not to take her baby and to take her instead and I had a rather sick but immensely amusing thought, what if the playwright had decided to have God take her instead? What if this is what the script looked like:
Mother: (wailing) God, dear God, take me instead! Not my baby, not my son!
The Voice of God: Take you? A’ight, bet.
(Lightning bolt falls from the ceiling, nailing Mother right between the eyes and smiting her where she lay)
Oh yeah, I can feel the flames of Hell already for that one, y’all ain’t gotta tell me nothin’.
I was sitting there cracking up at the thoughts that were running through my head as Mother sang a song and the scene ended with a doctor and nurse running into the room as her son flat lined. I was scribbling away in my notepad since I didn’t have my phone and couldn’t send any tweets as the curtain pulled back and the next scene began.
Some chick who I’d never seen before who happened to be playing the part of Veeda was pacing around a living room asking God where Caleb could be at three o’clock in the AM and praying that he was alright. She went over to her imaginary window and saw Caleb wit’ some ho by the name of Toni and Lord if I don’t have a few stories about a ho named Toni, this ain’t the place for that though so I shall continue with what I was sayin’. Caleb was out in the imaginary yard tellin’ Toni that he would see her later and all sorts of other shit that a nigga tells a ho when he’s tryin’ to get back home to wifey, unaware that Miss Veeda had been staring through the imaginary window. Caleb patted himself down and performed a spot check while telling the men in the audience that they should always do that before steppin’ in the house. I could do nothing but shake my head at what happened next.
So, Veeda was trippin’ when Caleb walked in, which I can so understand. Let my man come up in my house at three AM after he’s had a history of cheatin’ on me and bein’ everywhere but home when he should be.
A’ight, scratch that, my nigga wouldn’t be comin’ up in the house at three in the morning after cheatin’ on me because let me find out the nigga cheated at all and it’s a wrap.
Veeda started to nag Caleb who started tryin’ to tell her not to worry about him, that he got this, but I didn’t hear and/or comprehend him, I was being assaulted by a flurry of “Boo’s” and “Baby girl’s”. I swear to you, at any random moment during one of his lines, you would hear one or both of those terms of endearment at least four times a minute.
Veeda was trying for to tell Caleb about God and Jesus and dude straight hoed ol’ girls life by tellin’ her somethin’ like “You weren’t sayin’ anything about God last night when you were in between the sheets wit’ me callin’ “Caleb, oh Caleb” then he picked up her hand and said “I don’t see a ring on this finger. Don’t talk to me about livin’ Holy Miss Veeda”. He then left to go kick it wit’ his crew—yes, his crew. Dude is all of thirty-nine still hangin’ wit’ a crew. Seriously—at the club. He popped deuces and left.
When faced with the prospect of her man walkin’ out on her and their son, guess what Miss Veeda did.
No, she didn’t run after him. She didn’t even try to talk to him.
She broke out into a random ass liturgical dance.
[I’d throw in a clip of a liturgical dance, but my laptop hath no internet, just search for it on YouTube]
I sat there and was like “word?” because really, who just does that after a fight? I rate that one an “I suppose” because “I guess” just don’t get it.
The next scene was Caleb and his boys in Club Niki and the first thing upon seeing the sad club surroundings was “damn, what’d they do, go to Xcel on a Monday night?”
Ren doesn’t even hit the club like that but I’ve been and let me tell you, it was eerily familiar the way the scene was set on stage. Four bamma ass niggas holdin’ up the bar long past everyone else has left, a bored lookin’ bartender and bottles of Bacardi, Grey Goose, Hypnotiq and Ciroc. I don’t even remember everything that was said in that setting, but I know that it was somethin’ about selling drugs, typical nigga on the come up shit, y’know? Anyways, all of a sudden, Ol’ Lightskin—the one that was doin’ the stand up before the show even began—said some “Pimpin’ ain’t easy but I hope she is” as some chick with a bit part as a waitress walked across the stage. I can’t remember what was said next because I was laughin’ at that nonsense when he said “I’m feelin’ sexy up in here”
You’re feelin’ sexy?
In a club filled with dudes, no females in sight because the waitress walked off the stage after sayin’ her one line?
Ah man, it’s gettin’ super late and I’m gettin’ super tired so this wont be quite as long as I hoped it would be, but seeing as it’s already longer than the longest paper that I had to write for my Honors Composition course (which I got a 3.0 in woot woot) I don’t really care.
The next scene was that of a choir rehearsal and lawd if y’all coulda seen the choir director. Ol’ dude playin’ him hit that role of the stereotypical male choir director on the head. He came on the stage in this red poncho, black scarf and beret and I just shook my head and said “no, hell no” then I had a spontaneous bout of laughter at the antics on stage.
The choir wasn’t as organized as the choir director woulda liked it to be so he went about tryin’ to fix that in his own unique way. When one of the choir members tried to give him lip he told her, “You think you look hot? You look like you need a hot comb” then when another member of the choir said she wasn’t sure what she sang he looked at her and said, “You think you’re an alto?” She nodded her head and said yes then he told her, “Well, you look like a tenor” then he put her with them.
I was rollin’ at that nonsense.
*looks over the notes I took*
I know that there is a lot that I didn’t take notes on, like that whole Toni—ol’ bop ho spark ass—and her girl Logan were gettin’ ready to go out on stage at the strip club, that shit was HiLARiOUS, I’ll find a way to put up the footage when I get a DVD of the performance so y’all can see just what I mean.
Anyway, it is now 3:46 in the AM here in the Cap City and I’m gettin’ sleepier than a muhfucka so I’ma hurry this up.
We later find out—after Toni and Veeda almost had a dang fight in the church smh—that the Mother of the boy who died was also Caleb’s mother and that Caleb’s punk, bitch ass was the one who shot him because he was jealous of the way that his mom treated his brother over him.
I am STiLL mad as hell that this nigga went into a soliloquy about why he shot and killed his brother and one of his reasons was because their mom used to make this bomb ass Cornbread and greens and when he went to ask her if he could have some she would look at him and say
“…Naw, this is for Lane”
Now, I threaten to choke the shit outta Boogie all the damn time, that little girl deserves it, but whenever I’m thinkin’ about causin’ her some physical harm, I never think of shooting her, especially over some food. Even when I threaten her I would never do it. Maybe, she’s been actin’ reckless lately, I might have to choke her out to show her a lesson, I dunno.
How would you feel if you found out the chief reason you got shot was because of some greens and cornbread?
Now, to be fair, I gotta give it to Caleb. If I saw my mom fixin’ some of her bomb ass baked macaroni and cheese and I went and asked her if I could have some and she looked at me and was like
“…Naw, this is for Boogie”
Yeah, okay, I’d be a lil mad too. I wouldn’t shoot my sister over it or nothin’, I might jack her for her plate or somethin’, but come on now, it’s food.
Hmm…the next scene was that of a preacher preachin’ and even I wont touch that one, I don’t wanna get smote where I lay with a lightning rod from Heaven for talkin’ about the Word of God. No sirree Jim-Bob, straight on that I am. The only thing LauRen shall comment on is the fact that the guy playing the Preacher said “homosixuals” instead of “homosexuals”.
It was funny as hell to me and it’s even funnier when it’s written out as “homo6uals”.
Well, maybe it isn’t. It’s 4:01 and I’m tired so I’m goofy.
The play cut to a scene where it was Jesus being lead to his death on the cross and this is when I started to pass out my wins and fails, both of epic proportions.
FAiL on Drummer Boy and his whole life because he likes to play grab ass wit’ ya girl while we’re at church PLUS he was dressed as a Roman soldier. I failed him simply because I don’t like him. I can admit.
EPiC WiN to whoever was playin’ the organ behind the scenes. Dude has a sense of humor that rivals my own
WiN to the dude that was sittin’ behind me because he had me dyin’ with his commentary to his friends, he was worse than Kamara and I...
And a’ight, I’m cuttin’ this one short, but I’ll post my part 2 soon. I’m sleepy, so off to bed I go to dream of…well, he knows who he is.