Aint I A Man

AINT I A MAN

Dont ask me to put my life on hold for you. I, DID NOT PUT YOU ON DEATH ROW” my beautiful ex-girlfriend and baby momma, Sedonia, told me at a visit a few years back.

Sure I wanted to pull a verbal Rambo on her ass white being separated by thick glass that hungry hippy couldn’t penetrate. And I’ll even admit for the first time ever, “I felt tears leak from my eyes”

What she said wasn’t mean-spirited infact, what she expressed was actually a form of encantiosis. However, as we all know, the truth hurts and as I sat there in a state of lachrymose I realized how true her words were.

For the record, as a heterosexual male, I want to make apology on behalf of all men out there who, like myself suffered from “The needy-me Syndrome: When our good thing (s) seems to come to an end. Sure I wasn’t married to any woman while I was free and I had ample opportunities to ordain my x chromosome as my Mrs. Not that that would have meant much with a high divorce rate society that eagerly stand before God and vow to lie about staying married through sickness and in health.

John Edwards would know exactly what I am speaking of.

I distest prevaricators, But you know what? I wish Sedonia had lied to me at that moment. For instance, if I had to put the right words for the wrong reasons in her mouth, to say to me, it would have sounded something like this “I love you and I’m not going any where Big Daddy.

I didn’t put you on Death Row but I sure will try like Hell to get you out of there.

Now kiss the glass for Momma”

*sigh *

Aint I A Man?

Thou in retrospect, I’ll admit now – I’m glad she told me the truth, because her truth built me up. Slapped some thick survival skin on me. Took the pacifier out of my mouth, replacing it with some Kazakhstan tobacco. That stuff will group deep stubborn and tuff facial lines that no amount of Botox could straighten out. The stuff that turn your teeth a sour green and your insides far black.

What she told me gave me a will to fight relentlessly to prove my innocence. To butch up! And bitch down! To stay true to manly form by declaring the day “Boo-ya! I’m Free At Last! In Yo face! In Yo Face!

Thats my hope and dream at least.

See men tend to do that a lot: Dreams. It’s what captures our imagination and lay the foundation towards building nations or the next new and improved I-phone, It’s why men waste billions yearly on playboy, hustler, penthouse, or Black tail pornographic magazines … ooops suppose I’m telling on myself eh?

Don’t be alarmed cause Aint I a Man?

I still wake up in the mornings with a ‘boner’ Proof that Viagra wont be getting any of my money for a long time, nor do I need to waste any money on any books called “fifty shades of Grey” cause I know at least 200 shades I could write about on my own.

I still take celebrity beauties to bed with me every time I close my eyes. I’m Lonely so I make no apologies for what some feel is perverted.

I still want to play the roll of a real-life James Bond character who saves the world and gets the hot girl, only to then retire to a pub where I can say that famous line “shaken not stirred

I love football. Love the physical contact. Players make millions of dollars on the gridiron so the more broken legs and concussions the better the games (when as long as I’m not getting my brains smashed in) Why is Hank Williams Jr’s theme song to Monday night football playing in my mind at this very moment.

I want to have my children come to me seeking advice and I hive them wisdom more than traditional opinions. I want to take care of my Mother, giving her that well deserved retirement that has been long overdue.

I want to walk up to Donald Trump and take a pull at his hair, just to satisfy my curiosity on whether he wear a toupee or not. I wonder if his hair has a United States birth certificate?

I want to wake up in the comforts of my own King sire but covered with satin sheets, while I turn to kiss my wife with morning breath, Nothing says “I love you” more than that first morning French tongue kiss.

I want to walk around my home in the nude, eating bar-b-q chicken while listening to Bey once’s hit song “If I was a Boy”

Aint I A Man?

I’d like to teach others, men, and women, to avoid the same conversations I had with my ex, behind a glass window, and what I am writing to the readers now.

Men don’t let others live drunk lives “ some one has to take the majority position and lead folks out of the ignorant wilderness that we all find ourselves within, in our lives, Maybe I am not that person to teach but I can encourage the one that is able to lead,

Each one of us has a responsibility to do more to better the lives of those who need help, Who need wisdom, who needs a simple kind word or those who needs to be asked one question, “Aint I A Man?

Written by Charles Chucky Mamou 2012

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