College Health Seminar.

Peanut butter and banana sandwiches are perfect for snacking in between classes. Say you have an hour and a half break, eat one like-15 minutes before your next class and you won't be feeling drained. I use wheat/12-grain bread for mine and it's best when the banana's are all freckled up.
Slather up the PB & J on both slices and use the whole banana. Easy to make, word to Homer:

1-Smucker's Goober Peanut Butter & Jelly = $2.00
2-Bag of Wheat Bread = $4.00
3-Banana's = approx. $4.00

Doom.

"Look like a black wookie when he let his beard grow
weirdo, brown skin'ded always kept his hair low.
rumor has it its a S-curl accident.
DOOM was always known to keep the best girls backs bent."
-MF Doom, Hoe Cakes

Nigga's Are Scared of Revolution.

"Niggas are me.
and I should only love that which is me.
I love to see niggas go through changes..."

The Last Poets is a group of poets and musicians who arose from the late 1960s African American civil rights movement's black nationalist thread.

Keep It Real.

I'm tired of seeing cops handing out citations at every train stop. I see the type of people receiving them; they are ALL lower and middle class and even HOMELESS. Some may argue that it's just $1.25 for the metro pass but on the real, that $1.25 is a cool gallon of milk, bag of bread, or a cheeseburger. Or maybe that $1.25 has to go to getting onto the next one or two buses that these people need to get on in order to get to work.

It angers me to see an older Hispanic woman holding three kids standing in front of a cop who's getting her information for the citation. She doesn't even speak Spanish.
It angers me to see an unfortunate homeless man explaining to the cop that he's HOMELESS and there's no point in giving him a $250 ticket. He doesn't even have a home.

So the cop writes the ticket in full understanding that the person couldn't pay for the pass, so they make them pay a $250 ticket which they can never afford to pay which will soon double and then and they issue a warrant out and there's court fees and shit...

All this because the LAPD needs to meet their fucking quota on citations for the month. What's the other reasoning? 3 police officers at each stop that I pass (Norwalk, Lakewood, Long Beach, Wilmington) means 12 cops that could be out in the streets on some gang/drug patrol. There are more than 10 other stops on the Green line only. How about the Blue line? I'd be happier if all these cops were in the streets writing speeding tickets or something, just SERVING AND PROTECTING us instead of trapping us.

They don't understand...
A dollar twenty five can me alive.
Constantly harass me because I can't afford the transportation fee.
I can barely provide my family with groceries and it's a harsh reality.
"My stop is right here, can you please let me go?"
And the cop just laughs and says "no".
I was saving my scraps of dough to make my car start.
Now I have no choice but to pay the fine and save the heart of mine.

Love, Lover, Lovely, & Loving.

In my ode to my neglection of love,
I will state my many attempts and failures to prove my theory of a declining quality of the doctrine based upon the false, deficient conceptions and broadened, generalized, incompetent idealizations.
My ode to my neglection of love will be a declaration of exile until this inept perception of love is reinstated as an idea highly individualized as an intimate interpretation of infatuation where expression holds meaning, meaning it is incapable of duplication.
This degree of convenient feelings has been glamorized into a fashion and has deminished the value of the terms Love, Lover, Lovely, and Loving.
In todays time, reputable romantics are as quantifiable as needles in haystacks and healthy heart attacks.
In my ode to my neglection of love,
I will address the calamity of convenient companionships that so candidly contradict the current, subpar specifications of love suggesting a strong absence of substantial qualities.
These immature perceptions of "love" have provoked my pessimistic promises to never proceed with such perverse practices.
"I love you" has become a powerful, paradoxical phrase and only takes away from what it used to mean.
In my ode to my neglection of love,
I will acknowledge the absence of true chemistry.
This degree of convenient feelings has been compromised into a fashion, deminishing the value of the terms Love, Lover, Lovely, and Loving-revealing the arrogance of the one who Loved.
This is not an ode but rather a rough draft. The final will be carved in stone- or rather within the heart of the woman crafted from my rib bone.


I wrote a piece sometime ago talking about why I stopped writing about love. A type of poem that is dedicated to or praises a certain subject is called an Ode. Many writers write odes about a certain love or feeling from love, but fuck that. I've been neglecting love because there was once a time where it was truly valuable but now, love just seems to get tossed around with no discretion. I hate that. But whatever. I'm the writer and I want you to feel my perspective.
By the way, God crafted Eve out of Adam's rib thus the metaphor. If you want me to explain this piece more in depth, just holla at me. Don't want ya'll to be like:

Sid Viscious

My Extras.

Woorrd? I would never let my daughter model up for some damn Chlamydia awareness ad. These trains are running all through L.A. everyday. If I ever see this chick, I'm yellin' out "AYO! AIN'T YOU THAT CHLAMYDIA GIRL?"
FIIINALLY! I've grown tired of tests and applications that don't give me the damn option of MIXED or BIRACIAL. It's always HISPANIC (NOT BLACK) OR BLACK(NON HISPANIC). I always put BLACK if I don't get the MIXED option.
For reaaaall, homie? You decided to rock those laney-ass FAKE Dub-Zeroes? It looked like they were lasered with Crayons and shit. I've seen better leather at the 99 cent store.
I can only eat at restaurants that have A's posted up. If it's anything else BUT an A, I can't sit comfortably because I keep thinking about why they didn't get one. I recently ate at a Mexican restaurant that had a B and I kept scoping the rice and beans for a bug or strand of hair. They should have a checklist of all the criteria met and unmet posted next to the sign.

Twenty Too.

Happy Birthday, Marianne.

(Costco Pizza FTW)

What Your Name Means.

I found this website that gives you details about your name and the day you were born. Here's mine:

"You have the capacity to be inspirational, and the ability to lead merely by your own example. An inborn inner strength and awareness can make you an excellent teacher, social worker, philosopher, or advisor. No matter what area of work you pursue, you are very aware and sensitive to the highest sense of your environment.our thinking is long term, and you are able to grasp the far-reaching effects of actions and plans. You are disappointed by the shortsighted views of many of your contemporaries. You are deeply concerned and supportive of art, music, or of beauty in any form. Your ability to communicate may often inspire others. It is your role in life to inspire and motivate; to raise the spirits of those around you."

Go to this website to find out about your name and birthday.

When Harry Met Sally.

Harry: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally: Why not?
Harry: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry: No you don't.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: No you don't.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: You only think you do.
Sally: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?
Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
Harry: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Harry: I guess not.
Sally: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.

Good Idea. Bad Idea.

Pronounced "Day-Don".

Up until 10 grade, I never really appreciated my first name, Dedan. I was always known as "Kevin". It was easier to pronounce, and it was a popular name. Still to this day, I have seperate groups of friends who call me by both names.

Pops gave me a book to read titled "Histories of the Hanged: The Dirty War In Kenya and the End of Empire" in which I learned a lot more of the leader I was named after- Dedan Kimathi.

"Kenya's own nationalist writers, among them some of his closest comrades...cannot agree whether Kimathi should be lauded as a noble, brave, and unswerving leader who inspired others, or pilloried as a brutal, hard-bitten, ruthless thug who became increasingly psychotic as the fearful isolation of the forest ate into his soul. What we know of his life is difficult to disentanlge from the propaganda: the British did all they could to besmirch his reputation and, in reaction, his Kenyan biographers have tended to gloss over anything might compromise his heroic status. Kimathi's myth remains potent in Kenya today; his name, more than anyone else's, is synonymous with the struggle for freedom. He his unquestionably the herioc figure of the Mau Mau rebellion."

I feel inspired/pressured to live up to his name and I think I'm on the right path to do so. I've always wanted to name my first son Dedan.

The correct pronunciation of my name is "DAY-DON" and only my family knows this. The most common pronunciation is "Deee-Dan" (hence the nickname/screenname "dedantheman") and sometimes I hear "Deee-Don". I used to introduce myself as Kevin but I grew to embrace the history and image of having the unique name of a heroic figure.

Dedan Kevin Hedrick. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people say "Hendricks"or "Hendrick". Like at the bank. The teller at the window sees my ATM card, I.D., and the check I want to deposit all saying "HEDRICK" but they always end up saying something like "Have a good day, Mr. Hendricks!" wtf?

AYE, REF!

NBA logo slapped to the side and shit.
Rafer: BIIITCH!
Eddie: ohhh...AYEE!!!

The Watchmen.

A lot of poeple I know went to see The Watchmen and were disappointed. They thought it was going to be another Superhero flick like Batman or Spiderman and even better because there are multiple Heroes. Simple minds.
In one of my English Composition classes, I learned the difference between an open and closed text. In a closed text-the meaning and interpretation are given to you. In an open text, it is up to you to interpret the subject and give it your own unique definition. In my opinion, The Watchmen was an open text. There was a lot more story hidden beneath the original plot and dialogue.

The soundtrack was perhaps my favorite part (after the sex scene).
The Nat King Cole, Jimi Hendrix, Billie Holiday, and Bob Dylan added an unseen element to the entire movie. There's a song that plays entitled "99 Red Balloons". Everyone has heard this song but don't understand its content...

The guitarist was at a concert in Berlin, and noticed that balloons were being released. They shifted and changed shapes, and looked like a strange UFO. He thought about what might happen if they floated over the Berlin Wall. This song tells a story of 99 balloons floating into the air, triggering an apocalyptic overreaction by military forces.

"The war machine springs to life Opens up one eager eye Focusing it on the sky 99 red balloons go by"

There was also the scene where The Comedian assassinates Presidnet JFK in Dallas, Texas. The scene was quick and thus overlooked. JFK was a huge figure in America and there are many theories which prove who and where the assassin was. Lee Harvey Oswald was arrested on charges of the murder of a local police officer and was subsequently charged with the assassination of Kennedy. He denied shooting anyone, claiming he was a patsy, but was killed by Jack Ruby on November 24, before he could be indicted or tried.

"Rorschach's Journal. October 12th, 1985: Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "Save us!"... and I'll whisper "no." "

This exaggerated metaphor is RAW. I look at this quote as a reference to our own times where we are in a recession due to greed and poor management and living beyond our means. It's like a gang member that holds his block down no matter what yet fears to be sent to Iraq and fight on some real shit. Let me break it down even more; A dog is mans bestfriend which represents the Good and for it to be killed in such a reckless manner proves the presence of the Bad and it is the former which prevails in the end with the latter begging for mercy.

Rorshach's name comes from the method of psychological evaluation by using inkblots.

This movie fits in right along with 7 Pounds, another open text.