The above pics are from my apartment. These were taken after I’d already done an hour’s worth of cleaning.
A “before” pic, I can assure you, woulda resembled something close to Napoleon’s armies after Wellington got finished with them.
But wading through alternative methods of self-improvement, it occurred to me this morning that I hadn’t meditated in a while.
Meditation had been a big part of my mornings back when I was a valet parking manager. Well, meditation and marijuana and I didn’t have any weed. But anyway, I needed help.
All of yesterday had been a disaster.
As you know, your boy Dickie Bhee has been battling the demon of porn addiction and recently, I’d been putting up the good fight.
A couple of days ago however, the creeping urge to see the last pic I actually fapped to came up on me and before you knew it, I was in my search history sorting through so much info that, if porn had been the goal, I could have hacked into the White House database.
And I found it too.
I even used more technology to find out who the, er, “model” is.
And I know I said I’d never attach a porn link, and this isn’t technically porn, but the chick is nude even though you can’t see any of her naughty bits and it wouldn’t be fair for me to go through all of this description if I didn’t at least give you guys an opportunity to take a look so… here.
Click only if you think you’re strong enough to handle it.
And I know what you’re thinking; “Dickie Bhee, she’s white! I thought you were the militant Black man!”
No, nigga, I’ve become a cliche.
Black philosophy by day, white desires by night.
But it’s not that deep. It was just that picture. If you took a look at it, then you understand. Even Nat Turner, machete in hand, woulda been like, “Wayment” if he’d stumbled across that while in the middle of his spree.
I guess the best I can say about the whole night was that I didn’t fully beat my meat, just roughed it up a little.
Which brings me back to this morning.
My sloth is probably the one problem I’ve had in my life that goes back further than porn.
And I’m really trying to get my shit together, for feng shui purposes if nothing else.
It occurred to me that of all the great athletic champions, I couldn’t think of any that had won a title in anything while actually going through a divorce.
I mean, you see what divorce did to Tiger Woods; it positively ruined him.
As far as other life changes, yes, I remember Brett Farve throwing those 4 touchdowns on Monday Night Football right after his dad died but Brett had no control over his dad dying.
You at least have partial control over a divorce.
Bottom line: you can’t win if your house ain’t in order.
Then there’s that verse from Juvenile’s “Solja Rag“: “Do you take care of your kids?/Is it clean in your crib?/can’t you stand to eat some ribs?/Ain’t it scandalous how we live?”
Remembering that was the last straw.
I stopped cleaning to write this, now I think I’ll finish up.
And hopefully, staying “clean” in the literal sense will help me keep from clicking that link that’s a few lines up, which the shrewdest of you will realize that I had to look at just one more time in order to post it here.