tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38893243933052128562024-02-19T20:35:26.023-05:00The Double A BlogspotAlwayne Allen is my name (hence Double A, Eureka!)
I think alotta things, and I like to write them down and share.
Feel free to share too. Politics, Sports, People, Religion; you think it, at some point I'll write about it. I think I'm pretty funny, snarky, sarcastic, the works.
You know you like my blog already.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-25471829273731692382014-10-07T10:58:00.002-05:002014-10-07T10:58:31.828-05:00What Does a Jamaican REEEALLY look like?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.traveladventures.org/countries/jamaica/images/jamaican-people09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.traveladventures.org/countries/jamaica/images/jamaican-people09.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The "Jamaican look"<br />Photo credit: traveladventures.org</b></td></tr>
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A who tell people seh ALL Jamaicans are weed smoking Rastafarians that all say, "yah mon"; "no problem mon" and apparently don't speak English?<br />
Translation: Who spread the rumor that all Jamaicans are weed smoking Rastafarians that all say, "yah mon"; "no problem mon" and don't speak English? Smh.<br />
<br />
I remember a couple months ago I went to play basketball in a pretty Caucasian area. I think along with a friend of mine, the population of black guys in that gym was a grand total of two. Yes; just me and him (if you didn't catch that). Anyway, after playing a couple games (and losing :/) I was on the sidelines just kinda chatting to the guys who were waiting to play again. It somehow came to a point where I revealed that I was Jamaican and had just moved to New Jersey a few months prior. After hearing this one of the guys exclaimed, with the most sincerity as that of an innocent 5 year old child,<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"And you learned English that fast?!"</span></div>
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*record scratch*</div>
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Stick a whole heap a pin.</div>
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In my mind I'm like... <b>-_______-</b> a weh da yute yah come from man? Clearly not Jamaica. Probably the part of America that thinks all there is in the whole word is just America, and English is only spoken there. That must be it.<br />
I just kinda shrugged it off, you know, because I'm nice, and I proceeded to inform him that English is the language of my country. I even went on to explain that we also spoke patois, which is just broken English (as most of you know), and I pointed out that depending on where people are from in Jamaica, it could influence how they speak; as you will find that people from rural areas <i>usually</i> don't speak as well as those from the urban areas. Of course there are exceptions.<br />
<br />
Anyway, it seems people in other countries don't think we speak well... or English... I wonder why?<br />
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I'm no researcher, so I just share my thoughts and opinion. I probably should research, but mi cyaa bodda. One day, but not today. My guess regarding where the perception of a Jamaican's image comes from is that the image people seem to have associated with us (as outlined in the opening remarks) probably came from Bob Marley and other popular Jamaican musicians; then everybody else in the world just ran with it and thought we all looked like that until they visited the country for themselves or saw other Jamaicans that looked different. After all, our music played a big part into the country's foray into the global stage. Wait, did I just say foray? Do Jamaicans use that word? Let me go ask that guy. Although, truth be told, he probably wouldn't know that word. But he would know that we live in Banana huts :)<br />
For many people worldwide, they've dropped the thought that we're all rastas, but I think many still think most of us smoke weed. They say that's why we're so calm and happy all the time. Obviously they never heard of Bounty Killa.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn.urbanislandz.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Tessanne-Chin-The-Voice-Trophy.jpg?0e1c53" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn.urbanislandz.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Tessanne-Chin-The-Voice-Trophy.jpg?0e1c53" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: urbanislandz.com</td></tr>
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People I talked to here in the states were actually really surprised by the way Tessanne Chin looks. Last year when she was on season 5 of NBC's "The Voice", that was probably the first time several Americans saw a Chinese Jamaican. I guess they forget that there are Chinese Americans here too. I think though that every Jamaican who watched would agree that she represented us extremely well with how she spoke and carried herself. Never for a moment did she not own up her 'Jamaican-ness' and it came through several times while the whole world watched,<br />
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It doesn't help when our other stars *<b>not calling any names, <strike>Usain Bolt</strike></b>* try to sound like Americans whenever the international cameras are in their faces. Although, in the latest Puma Ad on tv, the guy whose name I didn't mention actually didn't sound like he added an accent. Maybe he got the message.<br />
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In a somewhat unrelated point, I found it interesting to note that Patois really is another language, even if we only think of it as broken English, because when spoken around 'normal' English speakers, they are <i>completely </i>clueless as to what we're saying! When you're in another country surrounded by people who aren't Jamaican and you're in Jamaican company, try it. It's fun! You can say to anybody who's not Jamaican "look pan da ugly s'mady deh! eeeh eeeh! Him cyaa do sum'n wid dat deh hair pan him head? No sah! Him fi do betta man!" and they'll be like: "uuhhhhh... what?"<br />
<br />
Priceless.<br />
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<b><u>Not just Jamaica</u></b><br />
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As was so emotionally and emphatically pointed out by two of my Dominican friends (as in, the Island in the Eastern Caribbean and not the Dominican Republic, i.e. Haiti's neighbour in the Northern Antilles [another of their pet peeves]), MOST--not all, because <i>of course</i> I'm an exception--Jamaicans are apparently just as ignorant as the young man and other Americans I've encountered. They related experiences where people thought they lived in thatch houses and didn't have running water and that stuff. Like everywhere not named <b>*insert wherever you're from here*</b> is some poor third world country with nothing but rivers, mountains and forests. However, because I'm Jamaican and this is my blog, I get to talk about it and they don't, unless they start their own :P (it's probably not that important to them anyway).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.kavionart.com/files/gimgs/22_out-of-many-one-ppl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: www.kavionart.com</td></tr>
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Jamaica's motto is: "Out of many; One people!"<br />
The country is made up of people who are/are descendants of Africans, Indians, Chinese, Japanese, Europeans and whatever other ethnicity you can think of. The same bodes for other countries in the world. It's just for us to educate ourselves about other people--how they look, how they dress, their languages and culture, just as much as we'd want others to do the same with us.<br />
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Here's a video just for kicks! Not meant to offend anybody, but it's pretty funny!</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/k0RH0cYs4lw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-31095945410920224962014-10-07T10:54:00.002-05:002014-10-07T10:54:20.015-05:00My Punny Musical StoryI initially posted this to my fb timeline, but moooonths later I thought, "hey, for a spur of the moment story, sitting in a Dunkin' Donuts parking lot, it was pretty good and I should probably preserve it!" Could I find it though? Not a baxide! THANKFULLY, my blogmate, <strike>soulmate lol</strike> and friend Keneice had used it on the Sounds of Colour page and she sent it back to me... *phew*<br />
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Now, I shall have it forever. I will love it, cherish and name it Steve, because I have already named everything else George.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I was driving to the music store to Handel some business, when a real crotchet looking girl hit me in my Bach. She stopped and apologized for hitting the bass of my car and begged me not to call the police or her parents, because she would be in treble. She said she was 16 but she never looked a day over 9. In the back of her car were 3 boys. They looked like triplets.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">S</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">ince the damage was at a minim, I told her I would take care of it, but she insisted on giving me a couple whole notes. She hurriedly drew up on a sheet of paper, and asked me for the time and my signature to agree to say nothing really happened.<br /><br />Thinking about it now, I should have called her parents and told them what happened. Maybe they would beat her.</span></blockquote>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">--Written by Alwayne Allen</span></blockquote>
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Teehee! Isn't music fun? Now to go get some rest. (See what I did there?)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a303/Raine0211/Music%20Jokes%20for%20Musicians/demotivational-posters-gsus.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: <a class="_ZR irc_hol" data-ved="0CAYQjB0" href="http://raine0211.wordpress.com/2012/01/11/music-jokes-for-musicians/" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.2); background-color: #f1f1f1; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;">raine0211.wordpress.com</span></a></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-10150311455441875482014-10-01T17:22:00.004-05:002014-10-01T17:22:43.082-05:00Horrible Bosses: The Triumvirate of XYZ<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictEuHZkponoV385nVYmQT8L6GxAou4GqkfKq24QXa5lV699rJGUtNCL7k8U6u5YdTO-Pz5Aww_wtqRvvKn025gDszC-PmFXHWmoWELV6Jx29WsFylj8aGe__bLdiviTul-McBSYQyYs4/s1600/HorribleBosses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictEuHZkponoV385nVYmQT8L6GxAou4GqkfKq24QXa5lV699rJGUtNCL7k8U6u5YdTO-Pz5Aww_wtqRvvKn025gDszC-PmFXHWmoWELV6Jx29WsFylj8aGe__bLdiviTul-McBSYQyYs4/s1600/HorribleBosses.jpg" height="170" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: dishmag.com</td></tr>
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I'm writing this for a friend.* <i>Seriously</i>. Why? Because that's what friends do! Duuuuh.<br />
<br />
My friend has a problem. Well several to be honest. Okay, let's put it this way--my friend has one problem that can be mostly divided into three. Lets call it <b>the Triumvirate of XYZ.</b><br />
<br />
Problem <b>X</b>, Problem <b>Y</b> and Problem <b>Z</b>. The <b>X</b> and <b>Y</b> could possibly represent the chromosomes that are found in the divisions of my friend's problem. <b>Z</b> is just weird.<br />
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My friend works in an environment that is very culturally different from what he is accustomed to. My friend works for more than one department. He has a very interesting organizational structure and has to answer to multiple bosses. Sounds fun right?<br />
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Beneath the "big bosses" are a couple of sub-bosses if you will. Despite so many people to answer to, my friend gets along pretty well with everybody. He hasn't had any major issue since being at his place of employment. However, beneath these sub-bosses are people who are like their assistants/understudies. Out of the five understudies emerges the <b>Triumvirate of XYZ.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>X </b>tends to email a lot. That in and of itself is not bad, but my friend gets annoyed that <b>X, </b>who sits a grand total of about 17-20ft away, will call almost immediately after hitting send, to give the same instructions that were contained in the email. 10 minutes later <b>X </b>will call to find out if the task was already completed, even though she said he should let her know when he's done. This greatly frustrates my friend. If he could. He would block her number. and IM... and eventually emails if necessary. He hasn't figured out how to as yet.<br />
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<b>Y </b>is THE WORST of all 3. <b>Y</b> LOOOOVES to email, copy the entire company in the email, then walk over 1 minute later to ask if my friend saw the email. My friend wishes to punch <b>Y </b>in the throat sometimes. Just for the heck of it. <b>Y </b>also believes that everything he has to do is top priority, and behave as if he works harder than everyone else, even attempting to lord his alleged 12 hour shift over my friend. Some nerve. It's not my friend's fault that he isn't allowed to do O.T.. <b>Y </b>would love if my friend dropped all he had to do and do all his bidding at his behest. Sounds like <b>Y </b>needs a minion.<br />
<b>Y </b>likes to bring some impossible tasks to my friend, or things that aren't part of my friend's job to do and if my friend tries to wiggle out of it, of course <b>Y </b>sends another email and copies some more important people. My friend sometimes responds "ok" in email in the hope that <b>Y </b>will negate coming to his desk. It doesn't really work. Sometimes my friend gives <b>Y</b> the death stare. And a slight attitude. He's not sure if <b>Y </b>is aware when he's received either of the two. He intends to continue to do this.<br />
My friend believes people should do what they're supposed to and not try to pawn their stuff on him. I would agree.<br />
<br />
<b>Z </b>is very, very, weird. <b>Z </b>talks in a kind of whisper that irritates my friend. He also moves his head a lot while speaking. <b>Z's </b>boss, who is one of the sub-bosses seems to like to communicate to him and not to my friend. <b>Z </b>then tries to tell my friend what to do, but my friend banishes him and lets him know that his boss ought to communicate whatever is needed directly to him. If what is required entails helping out, then, and only then will my friend listen to <b>Z. </b>Hmm, maybe my friend should redirect his frustration to <b>Z's</b> boss... Hmm. oh well, Not my problem.<br />
My friend says one time <b>Z </b>tried to get him to do his work. Little did he know that my friend was smarter than that. My friend got all the materials for the task, brought them to <b>Z's </b>desk and let him know all he needed was there. With that, my friend returned to his desk. <b>Z </b>never knew what hit him. Of course he had to do it. <b>Z </b>also likes to put on this desperate look, like he'll die if he doesn't get help from my friend/get my friend to do his work. My friend usually doesn't care for the look; and Z is still alive when last I asked, sooo... yah.<br />
<br />
It amazes my friend that most of the actual bosses hardly require much, while their subordinates seem to be the ones always in his skin. He knows however that it is only for a time, and will continue to do the best he can, and do what he's supposed to do. If someone gets punched in the throat though, he has asked me to testify that he has been going senile. I'll let you know how that goes.<br />
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********</div>
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Finally out of this blogging slump! Mercy! I can't tell when last I wrote something! *checks* February 26, 2014. WOOOW! 7 months ago. Maaaan. Guess I really took a Sabbatical from blogging. I suppose that's how it is when you have work, church, singing, basketball, tennis, bass guitar, gym, occasional outings and whatever other randomosity you wanna put in there. I hardly watch anything on TV except for sports. I really need to do better. Ah well, till next time! Maybe then I'll write something about me, and let y'all know how things are going. We shall see!<br />
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<br />
P.S.<br />
*This post may or may not have been for a friend.<br />
Also N.B. this was not a rant :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-58426416071177015492014-02-26T19:58:00.000-05:002015-02-16T15:32:52.915-05:0011 Reasons Why You SHOULD Hate Snow.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you've never experienced snow before; DON'T!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'M SOOO SERIOUS!</span></div>
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It's EXACTLY like a barbie doll, it just looks pretty, but it naa nuh use! You don't believe me? Fine. Lemme break it down to you (and even then, I'm pretty sure if you've never experienced it, you're still gonna want to... you know... just because. Yuh too nuff, a dat do yuh >_< )<br />
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So what happens when it snows? Well my dear brethren and friends, this is what happens:<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xAkM04VTt5I/Uw6HBCZu8lI/AAAAAAAAC8U/MHbG1dKw8wU/s1600/snow+angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xAkM04VTt5I/Uw6HBCZu8lI/AAAAAAAAC8U/MHbG1dKw8wU/s1600/snow+angel.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody wants to make snow<br />
angels! Even I used to want to...<br />
In the good old days when like<br />
you, I didn't know it was evil yet.</td></tr>
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<b>1. Snow is fun... but...</b> Face it. I'm sure you're hoping to one day dive in the snow, ski/sled/snowboard, make snow angels, build snowmen, women & children, <i>and</i> have snowball fights. That's all well and good, and these activities really are fun, but it takes several inches (or even a foot or more) of snow to make these fun activities possible. It would be absolutely <i><b>great</b></i> if snow figured out a way to just fall on the grass and open lots, while avoiding the roads, walkways, driveways and parking spots; but the white stuff doesn't have GPS apparently. Bummer. Have fun shoveling to make way to walk! (Btw, depending on how moist that stuff is, it's HEAVY.) You wanted snow? Enjoy your back and arm workout. Oh, speaking of GPS, that leads me to point #2.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mb8uw2n9Dc4/Uw6G_-Wv2rI/AAAAAAAAC8E/HOx6UBFMTNU/s1600/Cars+driving+in+snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mb8uw2n9Dc4/Uw6G_-Wv2rI/AAAAAAAAC8E/HOx6UBFMTNU/s1600/Cars+driving+in+snow.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a><b>2. It makes driving even more difficult. </b>Some people already couldn't drive good from mawnin' and now this just mek it rersara! (Worse-er-er--full ghetto style). The visibility can be pretty poor if snow's coming down real hard, and your poor wipers may not be able to fully fend it off. WORSE if it's the kind with ice that sticks to your windshield. Hope you have plenty anti-freeze wiper fluid! Also, if you hate skidding, a snow covered road is not for you, as the higher the snow, the more likely you are to skid. They will actually close certain roads where the conditions are too bad. They really should make every vehicle have at least a switch to become 4WD during the winter... *le sigh* (yuh know who nuh have 4WD right?)<br />
Snow basically causes a domino effect of things to happen, so I'm just going down the line here. Point #3.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1i67GJl9jPY/Uw6HB58_S7I/AAAAAAAAC80/qe1M8AA6NAs/s1600/winter+storm+roads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1i67GJl9jPY/Uw6HB58_S7I/AAAAAAAAC80/qe1M8AA6NAs/s1600/winter+storm+roads.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>3. If you're skidding all over the place, or you know you will be, yuh cyaa guh no weh! </b>When it snows, if you don't have to go anywhere, kip u 'kin quiet and knit or read a book. The last thing you want to do is skid and fall in a ditch and yuh cyaa come out. Dat naa play.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yqc9xvm_oNI/Uw6HBpF7R3I/AAAAAAAAC8w/9R6A7YscJWQ/s1600/snow+plough.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yqc9xvm_oNI/Uw6HBpF7R3I/AAAAAAAAC8w/9R6A7YscJWQ/s1600/snow+plough.jpg" height="120" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A classic snow plough.</td></tr>
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<b>4. Snow causes potholes! </b>If you thought that 1st world countries don't have potholes, think again. Or better yet, visit only in the summer time. Holes should be fixed by then. Maybe. But during the winter? The roads are a mess! This is all (okay... <i>mostly) </i>due to the evil white stuff from the sky! When the roads are snow covered, the plough trucks have to come and push the snow away, and they erode the road surface, creating huge craters for your driving pleasure.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Nfq4CTiFoE/Uw6HAf8KeKI/AAAAAAAAC8M/Ihx-w_InbeM/s1600/jeep-black-ice-600-48885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Nfq4CTiFoE/Uw6HAf8KeKI/AAAAAAAAC8M/Ihx-w_InbeM/s1600/jeep-black-ice-600-48885.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strike>Smirnoff</strike> Black Ice</td></tr>
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<b>5. All evil things have evil friends. Snow's evil friend is called Ice. </b>Ice is very dangerous. Skidding on ice is worse than snow. It creates lots of accidents and you have to drive <i>reeeeeally</i> slowly all the time. Unfortunately, sometimes you'll still have accidents, even when you are extremely careful. It happens. Probably should just display all your insurance details on your car during the winter. And how could I forget that <b><i>ultra special Ninja Ice</i></b>--<b>called "Black Ice"</b>. You don't see it, but it sees you, and when you skid in black ice, just prepare for the worst. Naturally, ice affects walking too. You have to have shoes with very good grip, and yuh shoes coulda good suh til; but the best shoe is still no match for the nature made 'Slip n' Slide'. I wouldn't blame you for wearing track spikes in this kind of weather.<br />
<b>P.S.A:</b> If you do not possess a large tuchus, please have adequate padding to cushion your fall. That is all.<br />
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<b>6. This wintery weather will causes States of Emergency all the time. </b>When I was in Jamaica, the only time there was ever a State of Emergency was during a Hurricane, or if Dudus was around hiding from the Babylon man dem while his cronies engaged said Babylon in a shootout. How would you like a State of Emergency everytime 6 or more inches of snow happens? Every week at that! It's no fun, because (and I'll just segue into point #7)<br />
<b>7. Everything is closed and postponed. </b>This can be good and bad I suppose. When it snows, work may close--depending on your field of work (sorry nurses, CNAs, <b>Wal-Mart employees</b>--messed up but it serious--and snow ploughers, but your people need you). However, if you're a temp/hourly paid worker; hush. You can make up the pay next week. Maybe. Oh wait, two snow days next week too? Bwoy yuh salt rasta! (I'll pretend I don't know how this feels (._.)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7YzJ8ZL-EB1nMg-b78e-hEqaGWeO15rzPwmw9d4usOO0bJZKx6SV1o2FtUDEKq7v2_Pa_6D0zMKsv9TcTFfZ0XgESD9dNFrSlkGZGoDzw1ewKocubdbctaYU8N6wZkuECqYaP_aMp9A/s1600/Walkers-in-snow1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7YzJ8ZL-EB1nMg-b78e-hEqaGWeO15rzPwmw9d4usOO0bJZKx6SV1o2FtUDEKq7v2_Pa_6D0zMKsv9TcTFfZ0XgESD9dNFrSlkGZGoDzw1ewKocubdbctaYU8N6wZkuECqYaP_aMp9A/s1600/Walkers-in-snow1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>If you're a gym junkie (like me--I admit it now), even though the gym is 5mins away; they're closed too, so you can't take advantage of not having work. Bummer. (Plus your mother will probably cuss yuh and ask weh yuh tink yaa guh and if yuh cyaa miss gym fi one day -__-).<br />
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Oh! If you were planning to go to that big concert, you know, the one you spent $200USD on for tickets, <br />
*New York accent* FUGGEDDABOUDIT! You'll probably get a refund, since it's not Jamaica (sorry homeland but a true) or they'll have it another day if you're lucky. Things will get cancelled all the time, thanks to the tiny white pellets of destruction from the sky.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So beautiful right???</td></tr>
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And wrapping up: <b>9. Snow looks NASTY when it's been around for a while. </b>Trust me, you know how yuh couldn't believe how Bredda So and So nice, nice pure (like bulk syrup) daughter bore up di whole of her good up good up bothy, full a bere tattoo and did that awful hairstyle you didn't like? Same suh snow stay. White and pretty when it's fresh, and then brown/black and DUTTY when it stale. Nuhbadi nuh waa si dat.<br />
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<b>10. Too much snow (if you're in the mountains) = Avalanche. </b>An avalanche is like a landslide, just that it's snow (and whatever else the snow is taking down with it that you can't see). It can be very dangerous to have all that heavy white stuff fall on you. Several people have lost their lives. Avoid all mountains and hills when it snows.<br />
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Also, though surprising; snow tends to happen mostly <u>above</u> freezing temperatures, I'll still point out the obvious, in the final point, number eleven:<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">11. Time cowl yuh fenneh</span></b></div>
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(Jamaica's tropical weather anyone? Me miss! Me miss! o/ )<br />
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JUST TO BE BALANCED AND FAIR, I guess because of the journalist in me, I actually looked up the <b>Benefits of snow. </b>I was surprised that there actually were any. Courtesy of <a href="http://lancaster.unl.edu/hort/articles/2006/snow.shtml" target="_blank">this site</a> and <a href="http://www.udel.edu/udaily/2011/jan/snow-environment-011911.html" target="_blank">this one</a>. (My reactions are in bold).</div>
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1. One major benefit of a good snow cover is snow functions as an excellent insulator of the soil. Without snow, very cold temperatures can freeze the soil deeper and deeper. This could lead to damage of root systems of trees and shrubs. <b>That's actually pretty good BUT! (my grinch moment) Heavy snow can damage trees and shrubs as the weight accumulates on branches. Aha!</b><br />
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2. Small animals, such as voles (field mice) are now protected from predators. These pests may gnaw on tender bark at the base of young tree trunks and the stems of shrubs. Voles also will tunnel on the surface of lawns under the snow, making very visible winding trails as the snows melt in spring. Rabbits will also be more likely to feed on tender bark when the ground is covered. <b>To this I say, SOOOOO?! Afta wi nuh like rat!</b><br />
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3.<b> </b>One final positive on the snow is the enhanced visibility of some landscape plantings. Trees and shrubs with ornamental bark, such as red twig dogwood or river birches, look more brilliant. Ornamental grasses left standing from last season are much more visible. Evergreens may look much greener, especially when a bright red cardinal is sitting in them. <b>Meh.</b> <b>Mek dem move n gweh wid dat! Bout look brilliant. Brilliance naa help me shovel.</b><br />
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4. Melting snow provides needed moisture to many plants. Even dormant plants continue to lose moisture as water evaporates through their branches. <b>Okay, I suppose that's good...</b><br />
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5. Snow also replenishes the water supply. You may have heard that 10 inches of snow equals 1 inch of rain, but it's actually much more complex than that... <b>Alright, alright.</b> <b>Fine, two good things; three tops!</b><br />
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<b></b>So anyway... After reading all this, are you still excited for snow? If you are; good for you. All I have to say to that is:<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Bah! Humbug!</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FPZJvHb1_pI/Uw6INqFGbxI/AAAAAAAAC9U/63NI5HyzaL8/s1600/snow-scene1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FPZJvHb1_pI/Uw6INqFGbxI/AAAAAAAAC9U/63NI5HyzaL8/s1600/snow-scene1.jpg" height="272" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Enjoy the scenery).</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-57610848254302992522014-01-22T19:09:00.001-05:002014-01-22T19:09:58.684-05:00Simple Life Lessons Re-Learned In Traffic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vrAjUQimpl4/UuBPRHhpcPI/AAAAAAAACrI/_WvzwxsIoik/s1600/20130922_121529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vrAjUQimpl4/UuBPRHhpcPI/AAAAAAAACrI/_WvzwxsIoik/s1600/20130922_121529.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
One has lots of time to think while driving alone on the open road. Whether or not one chooses to think at this time is another thing. Most of us probably will rather listen to the radio or music, or even talk on the phone; <b>of course with Bluetooth headsets or earphones</b>, because <i>clearly </i>we're all responsible, right? Duh! *crickets chirp*<br />
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Yeah... thought so.<br />
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It was that kind of morning for me (when I initially started writing this) where the hyperactive gears in my hyperactive head on my hyperactive body (you get the jist) started turning rapidly. It was about 8:50 a.m., and I was late for work, because of course, misery is to company, as lateness is to traffic. During the crawl, it occurred to me: Life is just like traffic! I couldn't wait to get on a p.c. to write this down. Before you try to preempt me, thinking of the ways life can be compared to traffic; RED light! Stop--Lemme tell you first and then you think about it afterwards. Feel free to add more points in the comments. Vámonos!<br />
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<b>1. Changing Lanes</b> - Isn't it amazing how the other lanes around you always seem quicker, but as soooon as you switch, they turn out not to be (most times)? I hate it when that happens! Sometimes in life, it's best you stay where you are, instead of trying to get ahead of everybody quickly. In traffic, if you think about it, you only really save a minute or two to get to your destination (if so much), so why rush? In our lives, we are in our respective situations for good reason. Like me, in my current <b>mid-middle-youngish age crisis</b>, you may not see why things are taking so long to happen for you, but you'll find out in time (NOTE TO SELF). For those who believe, we have an all-knowing God, who allows everything to happen for a reason. Just be patient and you'll get to where you need to be before too long. Also--on the flip-side--sometimes things are clearly moving well in the other lane, but because of fear, or being stubborn, we stay in our crawl, watching the world fly by. Don't get laid back and stagnant in this world, and don't let anything stop you from moving ahead!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uTWkS0ummoc/UuBQeY0fiqI/AAAAAAAACrQ/byxxNfL3luQ/s1600/Old-people-driving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uTWkS0ummoc/UuBQeY0fiqI/AAAAAAAACrQ/byxxNfL3luQ/s1600/Old-people-driving.jpg" height="317" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>2. Sloooooooow drivers</b> - We all detest getting behind these people. Some grandma or grandpa who hasn't a care in the world, or some overly cautious person is driving HEXTREMLY (H hadded for hemphasis) slow and holding you back. May not be on purpose, but they're causing a pile up that you don't want to be behind. People and things come into our lives and can become obstacles, holding us back from achieving our goals and dreams and getting where we need to be. You can allow them to if you want; if you have nowhere to go and you're driving aimlessly. However, if you got things to do, places to be, people to see; stress not! As soon as you break the corner--whatever your corner is--there'll be an open stretch of road for you to zip by, leaving them to hold you back no more.<br />
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<b>3. Aggressive/Bad drivers</b> - "EEEEEEEDIAT!" "Ole monkey!" "Goat!" (daddy's favourite lol) or "@%#%!!!" are just some of the many endearing terms we use to describe people who bad drive us/are overly aggressive on the road. If you get angry and retaliate or return the aggression, you could end up in trouble (or dead) the way the world runs these days. Most times I have to just opt for being calm, smart and driving safely; as much as I'd rather to run into someone's back for bad-driving me. I'll wait til I get my monster truck anyway. However! My monster truck is not the lesson (but get one if you can, less people will bad drive yuh). The lesson is actually found in the bible, in Proverbs 15:1, where "A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger". When people in this life get to you with their piggish behaviour and nasty attitudes, just avoid the mess if you can, and DO. NOT. RETALIATE. If you have to, don't be like them. Handle things in a dignified and controlled way and doe mek nobody draw yuh out. It's a very hard thing to do, and I'm sure we wish we could punch people in the face and walk away unscathed when they mess with us. I mean, you could try if you want, but key word is "unscathed" here... If you know you're here for a bigger purpose and you have better things to do than to be like these folk, good sense will prevail and you'll brush off the incidents and keep on truckin'.<br />
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<b>4. Stoplights</b> - Ah yes; good ole stoplights--keeping people safe since 1942. Okay, I totally made that year up. (I googled and saw, 1912, 1914, and 1920. It's one of them, but idk which :s ) How many times do we get warnings from the amber (yellow), and we just speed up and go through trying to beat the red? <b>If you have my luck, chances are you'll get a ticket after being accused of running a red light 30 seconds from your house, the FIRST DAY AFTER GETTING YOUR LICENCE after driving <i>ALL day</i> (thanks stupid Jamaican police--I didn't speed up <i>and</i> it was amber when I turned!) OR you'll actually try to beat the amber, but instead break the red and go through and get caught (photo-ticket).</b> Worse case, you could crash into an oncoming vehicle and get injured, be placed in a state of carrot, lettuce and tomato-ness, or die! Ain't nobody got time fo' dat! YET, all the time, everywhere around us, we get warning signs: left, right, centre, up, down, in front, behind and all inna the middle if it can guh suh too. And what do we do? Ignore them and go on with our business until bad happens or we get hurt. Then, we start to bawl and say "if mi did know!" Follow the warning signs in your life. They may not come in 3 colours of red, amber and green, but they come in all shapes and sizes. They could be people like your friends and family, complete strangers even, things that happen, or whatever else you can think of. Open your eyes, ears and mind to the signs and obey them, as they are there to keep you safe and well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Ae_7inhlpbdwFHn3LKCCUbtVCy1B3ADbm7czJvmm0fX8HCuvtTLW6J8SRLJQBgOesjX4D4trI24jVZD9B6gs2dlJP4cRG7McwUz1J33UfPaESZPj3v7XVGhSeNmuSg0rK4dLGFBNBwk/s1600/TurnSignal-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Ae_7inhlpbdwFHn3LKCCUbtVCy1B3ADbm7czJvmm0fX8HCuvtTLW6J8SRLJQBgOesjX4D4trI24jVZD9B6gs2dlJP4cRG7McwUz1J33UfPaESZPj3v7XVGhSeNmuSg0rK4dLGFBNBwk/s1600/TurnSignal-1.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></div>
5. <b>People who turn on you suddenly (no indicator) - *Bounty Killa voice* </b>As I were highlight aredi inna <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/05/inside-my-road-rage-alwayne-driver.html" target="_blank">wan blog I are were compose long time</a> (<--- read there), di people dem who do dis fi bun up. Straight up and down. Yuh jus does not does dat. 'Cause tell yuh what; if I were to are lick dem, I are have to guh pay money, even doe is dem dat are bad drive me, yuh dig? *Ahem* Nothing annoys me more than when someone switches lanes on you suddenly with no indication, or my favourite--indicate after they've already almost killed you off and have navigated 3/4 of the way into their maneuver! Like, what the hell you have a turn signal fah if yuh naa guh use it?! Grieve me!!! And some will have the audacity to look at you afterwards and be like, "what?" like nothing happened, or some unspoken derivative of the stupid thing kids say these days that goes:<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">"<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4q1MdEhEnyE" target="_blank">You mad, or naa?</a>"</span></b></div>
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I don't even have to spend time on this. These days, it's hard to trust people. Even those closest to you, the ones you never thought ever would, or ever could; turn on you in an instant. They leave you with your mouth agape and with your situation in tatters, wondering how you never saw it coming. Time too serious now; gotta be sober and vigilant! Watch carefully and trust only a few. Anything can happen at any time. Protect yourself.</div>
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<b>6. People who overtake a line of traffic -</b> they may get to the top quickly, but if they keep driving like that all the time they won't be driving for too long. You may see people; living large; fancy clothes; fancy lifestyle; all the latest everything--and you haven't a clue how they even got there. Could be drugs, could be a "link", could be dishonesty, could be who they slept with, or they could have very well gotten there honestly. Whichever way they did, your concern should be about yourself and ensuring that you go about things the right way, so at the end of the day, nobody can successfully accuse you of faking your way to the top, when you get there. It'll all be because of the effort and hard work you put it. Jus watch all the #TeamBadmind people dem in your rear-view mirror *so you can check your back* then cut and guh tru!<br />
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<b>7. Breakdowns on the road - </b>It could happen to you. It could happen to me. It can happen anytime, any place, anywhere. You really never know when your car will breakdown. Life throws curve-balls at us when we least expect it. People break down, whether due to death, job situations, depression... etc.<br />
This can happen to any of us. Hopefully though, <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/05/my-good-samaritan-experience.html" target="_blank">like in this encounter I had</a>, someone will be there to help us, or we will be the ones to extend help to someone who needs it.<br />
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<b>8. Snow, Hail and Inclement weather - </b>As I have come to learn VERY quickly--NOTHING sucks worse than driving in snow! Not a damn thing! I live 3-5mins away from my gym, and it took me just about an hour to get there because of snow. <i><a href="http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/ain't-nobody-got-time-for-that-gif" target="_blank">Ain't nobody got time fo' dat!</a> Also, </i>I hate how people drive so slowly when it rains too, causing massive traffic build-ups. I mean, I know we have to be more cautious in bad weather, but I'm pretty sure it's okay to go more than 5mph/15kmph in the rain! Just the same, life brings elements that slow us down all the time. Our job is to be patient (hard as that may be for me), keep in good spirits and smile; knowing that the sun will shine again. May not shine tomorrow, or the next day... or the next day... or the day after that... or even next week. But it will. Just wait for it!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks fun right? (This is in a parking lot btw)</td></tr>
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<b>9. Kind Drivers -</b> I believe there are VERY FEW kind people on the roads, who will give a "bly" an' ting; <i>especially</i> in traffic! Most times people gwaan like seh if you let one car in front of you, it'll make you 10 minutes later to get to your destination than maybe 20 seconds or so. For me personally, I think I'm nice enough. If you behave yourself on the road, unless I'm going too fast to stop, or I see you too late, I'll let you in the line. But, if yuh gwaan like yuh big an' bad and try to squeeze me out or you try to overtake a line and then cut in front of me; as best as I can--I'm keeping you out. If however my car is in danger of getting scratched or hit; as MUCH as I'd LOOOVE to smash into a few people and go about my business, I will let them in for my own safety. It's always so refreshing though, when some random person sees all the other cars zipping past you while you try to get into the other lane so you don't miss your turn, and they slow down and flash their lights to let you know you can go. These nice people in life seem very few, as opposed to those who don't make this a practice and always seem to speed up when you put on your literal or figurative indicator, forcing you to pull out of your maneuver to save yourself from hurt/injury. It also feels good when you do the same for someone and they acknowledge your kindness. If everybody who reads this can be one of the kind persons, then life will be that much better for those we come across. Obviously, we can't give everybody a "bly", but being kind souls will be appreciated by most (sadly not all) of the people's lives we touch.<br />
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I probably never said anything new or earth shattering that you didn't already know, but I hope that as we drive literally on the roads, and journey on the pathways of life we'll bear these things in mind for a better commute and improved quality of life.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-55906077819117563542013-12-24T18:48:00.001-05:002013-12-24T18:48:24.989-05:00An Important "Tesson" for Brand Jamaica<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><u>PREFACE</u></b><u> (lol…seriously)<o:p></o:p></u></div>
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It’s
amazing how the time to write blog posts comes around so sporadically these
days. Absolutely nothing can be going on for a while and then POW! You get
pricked by the pen of inspiration! Not inspiration like the Bible (duuuuh), but
a sudden urge to write <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>. Why do I even mention this? Well, to tell you the truth, this blog
post should have been written MONTHS AGO! From as far back as September to be
precise, but I just could never find the time, nor the drive to put the words together
until now. After what just happened? I have to write about this now**. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wu34S07okgI" target="_blank">The power of Tessanne</a> compels me! <o:p></o:p></div>
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**I wrote
most of this on Wednesday, Dec 18, 2013 between 1:30 to about 3:30p.m. with
some editing afterwards at about 1:30am Thursday.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I actually
had a few jottings—well—exactly 3 lines (all completely unrelated to each
other), of things I was going to highlight in this post. At the time—in
September as I told you—the Voice was just kicking off, and Tessanne Chin was
just beginning her journey of awesomeness and “Bread n Butta”-ness. She was the
last point I had in mind to mention for this post, but with her recent victory
on NBC’s <i>“The Voice” </i>mi haffi talk
bout Chinita good body [voice] first!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Let me
just say first of all, that I am <i>EXCEEDINGLY
GLAD</i> that the competition is over now. It’s not because I didn’t want to
hear Tess—who still owes me a performance of an Adele song, and a rendition of
“O Holy Night” (really only because I think she would nail them)—because I did
want to hear her; it’s not because I saved money on car insurance (I actually
have Geico for real :D), or because I’m #TeamBadmindMichaelCuffe, I promise is
not dat! So “why Alwayne?” you may ask.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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Weeeell,
the schedulers of my evening job, (which I am glad for because a guy’s got
bills and a family—as in my father’s family, you know, due to how I am wifeless
and childless still…) they decided to schedule me to work for four (4)
consecutive Monday nights, and three (3) consecutive Tuesday nights right up
until the final (which I still haven’t seen)! So you know what that meant? NO
VOICE FOR ALWAYNE! NOT EVEN THE RESULTS SHOW! And because of the hours I work
(8:00a.m.-4:30p.m., then 5pm-12:00am) I had no time to even watch the episodes
online! Mi did cussid grieve! Gotta tell my sister thanks for waiting up for me
to get home in the nights and showing me the performances, or else I wouldn’t
have a clue what was going on. Now that it’s over, and my Jamaican girl has
won, I can rest easy and work <strike>relatively</strike> happily again, knowing I’m no longer missing
anything. I still blame adulthood and responsibilities though.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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*****</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><u>Chapter Only…</u></b> <o:p></o:p></div>
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(I’ll give you a minute to get that.)<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIRPnHtnpNAq3N2kecwabT2j2_zrPfi1C5jDTmaPOMGMh__zwLqfcMlRklJcXkWj9N3et62YRw4qqEa1r49LobCVbEi6OpCd4M6FpPO44iGxL_qnicSSBp1KwSNuwstCee2qoJRYc5Lg/s1600/Tess+Tweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIRPnHtnpNAq3N2kecwabT2j2_zrPfi1C5jDTmaPOMGMh__zwLqfcMlRklJcXkWj9N3et62YRw4qqEa1r49LobCVbEi6OpCd4M6FpPO44iGxL_qnicSSBp1KwSNuwstCee2qoJRYc5Lg/s320/Tess+Tweet.jpg" width="192" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As the curtains on Season 5
of NBC’s <i>“The Voice”</i> closed with our
Jamaican diva and Superstar Tessanne Chin being crowned champion, a nation has
been filled with extreme pride and jubilation at the success of our own
countrywoman. Watching her carry herself humbly and gracefully with her
patriotic air, we cannot help but be proud. Whether we were fans before <i>The Voice </i>or we have just made ourselves
honorary members of #TeamTessanne, as a country we have the right to be happy
for her huge accomplishment. Since most people have posted all the clever stuff
relating to her victory over Twitter, Facebook, and even <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/Ode-to-Tessanne_15652267" target="_blank">this awesome poem</a> </span>in the
Jamaica Observer, I won’t dwell on it anymore, but I’ll just say
CONGRATULATIONS TESSANNE! I LOVE YOU! Thanks for replying to my tweet that one
time and all the best for the future Miss Superstar! Since you probably will
never see this, I’ll just pretend you actually read my blog and you told me
thank you ^_^<br />
<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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You’re very welcome Tess-Tess <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></div>
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<br />
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*****</div>
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Now to
the issue at hand: <b>Fixing Brand Jamaica.</b></div>
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Can it
ever really be fixed though? Does the Jamaican government want it to be fixed?
Does the country on a whole want it to be fixed? What is being done to fix it,
outside of individual brilliance that we all piggy back on by the literal and
proverbial <b>Tessannes</b>, <b>Usains</b> and <b>Shelly-Anns</b> out there?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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There are
quite a few countries making money from ‘Brand Jamaica’ to the country’s detriment,
and nobody’s doing anything about it. OR, if anything is being done, I just
haven’t heard about it yet— blame my work schedule. If you know what’s
happening to combat the problem though, feel free to inform me where I’m
misinformed. But seriously, I know there’s been a lot of talk, and you could
even say I’m just talking too, but it’s my blog, and I’m not getting paid for
it (YET!) so I can talk and say what I want; but for the folks who ARE getting
paid to fix it, what in Portia’s name is going on? You know what? Don’t even
answer that. Mind sharp it guh get tax too.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I know of agencies like
JIPO (Jamaica Intellectual Property Office) JAMPRO that deal with branding the
country’s goods, but how has their fight been going with regards to protecting
the ownership of what is truly Jamaican and ensuring that all benefits of these
products and concepts are being meted out to the rightful owners? Imagine my
disgust when I saw these in a U.S. Supermarket in Flordia (3 items, front and back):</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u03tMkySFcA/UpYJTHyNAzI/AAAAAAAACQo/TQM-pByD3mc/s1600/20130923_173735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u03tMkySFcA/UpYJTHyNAzI/AAAAAAAACQo/TQM-pByD3mc/s200/20130923_173735.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m399y5zTIMs/UpYJTL5uCoI/AAAAAAAACQo/XY8SgYGcq68/s1600/20130923_173751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m399y5zTIMs/UpYJTL5uCoI/AAAAAAAACQo/XY8SgYGcq68/s200/20130923_173751.jpg" width="150" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u03tMkySFcA/UpYJTHyNAzI/AAAAAAAACQo/TQM-pByD3mc/s1600/20130923_173735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XLN4GBhgymE/UpYJTLOodlI/AAAAAAAACQo/Fhh64Hk5fjE/s1600/20130923_174008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XLN4GBhgymE/UpYJTLOodlI/AAAAAAAACQo/Fhh64Hk5fjE/s200/20130923_174008.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DM8Ns7-D73Y/UpYJTIsH-BI/AAAAAAAACQo/4CXLN-kzP_s/s1600/20130923_174021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DM8Ns7-D73Y/UpYJTIsH-BI/AAAAAAAACQo/4CXLN-kzP_s/s200/20130923_174021.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMlZCjMaBSM/UpYJTBH4DmI/AAAAAAAACQo/LGO0i-wb0bk/s1600/20130923_174040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMlZCjMaBSM/UpYJTBH4DmI/AAAAAAAACQo/LGO0i-wb0bk/s200/20130923_174040.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aG-9lsbCzn8/UpYJTIWHdmI/AAAAAAAACQo/pME8QJhWVY0/s1600/20130923_174047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aG-9lsbCzn8/UpYJTIWHdmI/AAAAAAAACQo/pME8QJhWVY0/s200/20130923_174047.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
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Are we
(Jamaicans) getting paid for them? I highly doubt that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I remember when I was working in news, Jamaica’s
Minister of Agriculture, Roger Clarke made a presentation in parliament on how
other countries have been branding some other counterfeit from ‘woi woi’(wherever
that is) as the well loved and extremely popular Blue Mountain Coffee. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Who’s being punished or held accountable for this?
Don’t worry; I’ll be right here when you find out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRiR-Y_CgUUxyJooj__rCXBDzfreuvPm9lCdwxf_IsTjlHYD3MhpFiYhj1vN04iuRSJThZ_RRRKITm5hqDKUm_29aosG03vz98BuW_T6dQ21MbDtv_x6kPgq1pAM81ftYzmSwihJflo80/s1600/bread+n+butter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRiR-Y_CgUUxyJooj__rCXBDzfreuvPm9lCdwxf_IsTjlHYD3MhpFiYhj1vN04iuRSJThZ_RRRKITm5hqDKUm_29aosG03vz98BuW_T6dQ21MbDtv_x6kPgq1pAM81ftYzmSwihJflo80/s320/bread+n+butter.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You know seh your consumption went up after she said it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What’s my point in all this? Well, brethren and
friends, this little island Jamaica, a little island of 2.7 million people, has
become such a global force in <i>anything</i>
its citizens put hard work into that it took only one, in the form of a
Tessanne Chin to come to America, a land of about 315 million people, and win <i>The Voice</i>. Her involvement probably made
this the most watched season <i>ever</i>
thus far, as not only Jamaicans in the country and the Diaspora watched, but
other Caribbean nationals tuned in to see her. As a Jamaican living in America,
it was refreshing to see how a competition which caters mainly to Americans (as
evident by limited voting methods and restrictions to those outside America)
could be taken over by our small country because of one person. And sure
enough, true to the stereotype that Jamaicans will always find a way to
circumvent the system, most of the ones outside America found a way to vote
anyway. Don’t even let me mention how Tessanne’s innocent use of the term </span>‘Bread n
butta’ became her popular internet tag line used by her supporters. Not to brag or anything—even though she is clearly the BestTess—but it just goes to show how talented our people are. This little dot on the map has the world 100 and 200 metre champions—male <i>and</i> female. A legend like Bob Marley is known and revered in
musical circles everywhere! For crying out loud, a packet of Grace Cock Soup
was just on The Tonight Show hosted by Jay Leno! That’s HUGE! A little fun
fact: If you divide the U.S. population by Jamaica’s population, it would take
116+ Islands of Jamaica to populate the U.S.A. Imagine that!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Look at
how one songbird united a nation to watch a programme most of its people would
scoff at! Look at how she caused many a person to lose precious sleep, just so
they could watch her shine. Look at how many became marketers and promoters for
their countrywoman to their friends and family living abroad! Look at how much
joy a nation possesses now that she has been decided the winner; as she is now
(and always has been), <i>“The Voice”</i>! I
hope Captain’s Bakery and all the other bread companies in Jamaica, as well as
other corporate sponsors are lining up to create Bread n Butta with her face on
it for real, before some other country does while we sit and watch and cuss at
how dem tief wi plan. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The
Olympics/World Championships and now the just concluded Season 5 of NBC’s<i>“The Voice” </i>have been unifying for the
country of Jamaica. Once we hear seh someone/something is Jamaican, all if we
nuh know them, we support them, because really, we are the greatest country of
waggonists, like it or not. But, at least we always team up to support our own.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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People of
Jamaica; the country is yours. The country is mine. It’s Tessanne’s, Usain’s, and
Bob Marley’s. It’s ours! The name Jamaica is known everywhere, and it sells
everywhere! The food sells, the tourism product sells, the music sells, our athletics
sell; EVERYTHING good about Jamaica sells! Maybe they don’t all sell well in
Jamaica, but best believe they sell in other parts of the world.<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/9H0xPWAtaa8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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We
remember the VW Superbowl Ad, and then the other controversial German Flag Burning Ad.
Sure everyone didn’t like them, but because they had elements of Jamaica in them;
like it or not, people watched! That’s exactly what the makers wanted. Mi tiyad
fi see people a mek money offa wi. Wi need fi start mek money offa wi self!
Let’s reclaim our brand and build our land!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<b>P.s.</b> Sir
Usain Bolt, you’re Jamaican. Yuh a yawdie!!! Best sprinter the world has seen!
Please, with the utmost respect, mi a beg yuh fi do like Tessanne. “Talk di
tings!” locally <b><i>and</i></b> on International T.V. Lose the accent. Do, wi a beg yuh. Be
distinctly Jamaican! If anybody can teach the world patois, it’s you!<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OiSoba5pECE/UroY2STzR1I/AAAAAAAACgQ/WyRc9fDkbZo/s1600/Usain-Bolt-008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OiSoba5pECE/UroY2STzR1I/AAAAAAAACgQ/WyRc9fDkbZo/s400/Usain-Bolt-008.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: Theguardian.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<o:p> </o:p>Peace.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<o:p>By the way! Check out this <a href="http://perceptualpost.com/what-tessannes-win-means-politically-and-what-miss-lou-would-say/" target="_blank">AWESOME post</a> by my NCU batch and blogmate Randy Goldson on what Tessanne's win means to Jamaica and what a <i>very </i>popular Jamaican icon would say!</o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
#TeamTessanne #TeamChinitaGoodaz #TeamAdam #TeamJAMAICA!</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-67968464683439682572013-11-10T16:59:00.003-05:002013-11-11T00:19:05.686-05:00A few (Obvious) SIGNIFICANT things better about Jamaica than AmericaBefore my Jamaican friends back home kill me off for my title, let me just state right now that wherever you live in the world: <b>Paris,</b> France; <b>Brussels</b>, Belgium; <b>Melbourne</b>, Australia or <i><b>Trench Town</b></i>, Jamaica; there will always--ALWAYS, be pros and cons; even if you live in paradise. Trust me, go to a hotel for a week, and I PROMISE YOU; you will get tired of it in no time.<br />
<br />
However, when you are privileged to live in more than one place, you get to experience different ways of life, in big or small ways. Take for instance: living in Kingston or Portmore, under normal circumstances, you can wash your clothes at anytime and know that there'll be adequate sunshine and heat to dry your clothes in no time. Compare that with moody, disgusting, miserable <strike>gyal</strike> girl weather in Mandeville. Even if the sun bright like Einstein's IQ at 9am, you try yuh bes' wash before daylight! Cause yuh know seh the weather in that place be so unpredictable that by 9:30am it's raining cats and dogs; and take it from me--ain't nothing worse than being at school with no boxers to wear cause the whole a dem deh pan the line wet up! Wait, that never happened to me! It happened to a friend! *Scout's Honour*... :)<br />
<br />
Soooo, as I (kinda) document what's going on with the U.S. Chapter of my life, I know many people look at America, Canada and England as the places to be to make good lives for themselves. Due to how I'm yet to visit or live in Canada or England, let me talk about where I know so far; <b>America</b>.<br />
<br />
CLEARLY conventional thinking would say America is a better place to live than Jamaica as it is considered a 1st world country while Jamaica is considered a 3rd world country. However, here are some glaring ways (in my opinion) that Jamaica would get the edge over America.<br />
<br />
<b><u>Ease of access to transportation (in a sense)</u></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxha5mcyVas/Un_5uiHz90I/AAAAAAAACKE/5XXUSja748c/s1600/I-287_I-87.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxha5mcyVas/Un_5uiHz90I/AAAAAAAACKE/5XXUSja748c/s200/I-287_I-87.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Dem deeven have a bus stop! LOL</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This one applies mostly to those who don't own their own vehicles in Jamaica, because in America, ANYBODY can buy a decent car real easily. People can get solid cars for $500-$1000USD ($50,000+ to $100,000+ JMD) with more ways to pay insurance premiums. But for my "Two Foot Turbo" friends, I have to give JA the edge on this one, because except for big Metropolises like New York City or San Fransisco where you can easily hop on a train or whistle down a taxi to go where you need to go; in most states, if you don't drive, yuh salt! You can't go anywhere without a ride to at least get to the train/bus station, whereas in Jamaica (and this could be partially due to it being a small country) you can get around easier on buses and taxis, although the <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/latestnews/Commuters-to-pay-more-as-JUTC-discontinues-ticket-transfer-system" target="_blank">government trying to kill off people with more fare increase costs</a> (even though they've delayed it for a week). For most who've traveled to the states, y'all know if you don't have friends or family to take you around, you gonna be stuck in the house the whole time, especially with all them highways virtually uhhh, everywhere! JA, you jump in a taxi and go virtually anywhere, at ANYTIME.<br />
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<b><u>Cost of medical care (Medical + Dental)</u></b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pmXTCPHoAME/Un_7REMWSSI/AAAAAAAACKY/21CBfdWzHGQ/s1600/msnap122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pmXTCPHoAME/Un_7REMWSSI/AAAAAAAACKY/21CBfdWzHGQ/s1600/msnap122.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of <a href="http://boomersint.org/">http://boomersint.org</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Lemme just start by saying: I don't plan to get sick up here, and I may just have to come to Jamaica to clean my teeth. REAL talk. I don't know if it's because America has all the fancy equipment why they think medical and dental care must cost so much, but no rasta; unless mi get a job with insurance (or rich enough to buy it on my own--whichever comes 1st) dem place deh naa si mi a baxide. Before I came here, I balked at the opportunity to do an eye test for $2000 JMD. Imagine how I feel now when so far, the cheapest I've seen is $70USD!!! Looks like I'm coming back to JA to test my eyes. I feel like I will look for all the free clinics bout the place and start my own campaign for Obama Care... So, look out for me on CNN zeen? I'm not about this life at all. Clearly this is the place to be for optimum health care, but what good is it to me if I can't afford it? Big up JA and the Free Clinics and Public Crowded Hospitals. Takes whole day, but patience will keep a $2000-$3000 private doctor fee in your pocket per visit.<br />
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<b><u>Hair Care (Barber or Hairdresser)</u></b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K3lsC98kk6A/Un_5u01RHWI/AAAAAAAACKI/vRGPLGsSffA/s1600/geico-caveman-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K3lsC98kk6A/Un_5u01RHWI/AAAAAAAACKI/vRGPLGsSffA/s200/geico-caveman-lg.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I swear this will be me shortly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Let's talk about how I used to pay $500 JMD to trim <i>AND SHAVE </i>in Jamaica, and the cheapest I've seen in America so far is $14 USD to TRIM, and $22 USD to trim and shave. Yuh know who naa trim (again!) Orrrr, I may become a barber (still thinking bout it). I feel it for the ladies up here, 'cause it costs at least $50 to cream or style their hair. Thank God the ones I know could do their thing from in JA and so they link up with each other and sawt out their hair. America is the land of "Do-It-Yourself" or "get-someone-you-know-to-do-it-for-free"and I'm definitely taking that route with my hair. If you see me looking like the Caveman from the Vonage or Geico Ads, you already know why.<br />
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<b><u>Process of Owning things (credit and such)</u></b><br />
I REALLY hate this part. In America you <i>have to</i> <b>build credit</b> in order to own things. How does one build credit? By incurring and paying debts on record.<br />
<br />
WAH KINDA BOLOGNA IS THAT?!<br />
<br />
When you get here as an immigrant, this means real big important purchases <i>cannot </i>be made without credit; for example buying or renting a house or car, through an established agent/agency/company, and therefore you have to get someone to do it for you. Just check it out; many people up here have cars, leases and insurance in other people's names just because of this. Imagine if you come and yuh nuh know nobody?! It's annoying. Don't get me started on how you can't get stuff if you have bad credit. First they encourage you to incur debt in varied ways, and then when yuh cyaa pay dem naa sell yuh nuttin. Hypocrisy?<br />
Also, this is in actuality a good thing, but it can be annoying as well: <b>having proof of address </b>when conducting business. When you just get here, this is very tricky, as you may be staying with someone for a short while, and this can harm your ability to get things done, like creating bank accounts, getting your driver's licence (Haha still used the JA spelling, which is also better), among other things.<br />
In Jamaica, once yuh have yuh good up, good up money, yuh can get anything! I guess, admittedly, in a way this isn't ideal, but it sure feels better than all the red tape in this place!<br />
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<i>And FINALLY!</i><br />
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<b><u>Food.</u></b><br />
<i>Seasoning. Taste. Looks. Seasoning. Healthier. More diverse. Seasoning. </i>Ummm... oh yeah!<i> Seasoning!</i><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Renm5-aGFM/Un_5uPad-RI/AAAAAAAACJ0/_FEwMQCALhc/s1600/Jamaican+Dish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="159" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Renm5-aGFM/Un_5uPad-RI/AAAAAAAACJ0/_FEwMQCALhc/s200/Jamaican+Dish.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Curry Goat, rice and peas, plantain &<br />
Cabbage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sk_KHMOAc5o/Un_5vaFhnLI/AAAAAAAACKM/yl8tnVm5IDI/s1600/rare-steak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sk_KHMOAc5o/Un_5vaFhnLI/AAAAAAAACKM/yl8tnVm5IDI/s200/rare-steak.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steak! Medium Rare.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">VS</span><br />
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Enough said.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-65196829546508839562013-10-15T14:19:00.000-05:002013-10-15T14:19:16.589-05:00Importance of G.P.S<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So today (October 15, 2013) I had an interview (ish) in Princeton, New Jersey. I've been in New Jersey for less than a week now, but I've been driving up and about and checking Google Maps frequently for routes, and I feel like I'm getting to know the place pretty quickly. Frankly, this morning, I felt lke I already knew the place enough to go it alone, sans G.P.S.<br />
For the interview (ish) I was given directions by email, which seemed pretty straightforward... EXCEPT, the directions I got from the person told me to go North, as opposed to South. I was to look for Exit 1B. Imagine my annoyance when I saw Exit 8, turn into Exit 9, then 10. I took the next exit, in the hopes of finding a road leading to the Northbound side of the road I was taking. A who tell mi fi guh try dat? Mi laaaaass, Mi laaaaaas, Mi laaaaaas!<br />
(Translation for non-Jamaicans: I was <i>very</i> lost).<br />
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Finally, good sense prevailed after driving around aimlessly for about 10 minutes and I pulled into a parking lot and used the G.P.S on my phone. It was pretty much smooth sailing after that... until I reached my destination. Instead of going straight into the complex, I made a turn I wasn't supposed to and drove aimlessly again for another 10 or so minutes! My interview was for 11:00 a.m., and I didn't park in the complex till about 11:25 a.m., all because I got lost. And to top it off, when I got to the actual building, I still couldn't find the place! (Y'all think I ignored the warning signs? Maybe I did, nuh true?)<br />
Turns out that I shoulda probably just stayed at my yard. I think that kind of job (Insurance Sales) really wasn't for me anyway, and maybe God just really didn't want me to go there.<br />
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What's more is that apparently, it wasn't really even an interview, but more of a presentation about the company, after which persons interested in full commission sales could indicate. At this point I can't accept a job like that, because <b>one</b>: I needs me a guaranteed salary! <b>Two</b>: EVERYBODY hates insurance sales people! <b>Three</b>: I've had experience with sales, and it was not my cup of tea at all. I don't like it.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>HOWEVER!</b></div>
<br />
With all the wandering around like a headless chicken, God taught me another lesson. It's amazing how He uses these little things to teach us. Many times we think we know what we should do, where we should go, and how to solve our problems. We think we can do good, all by ourselves. But Paul, in Romans 7 teaches us otherwise, from his own experience. He said (Rom. 7:21-25 NLT):<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
21 I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. 22 I love God’s law with all my heart. 23 But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. 24 Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? 25 Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin.</blockquote>
No matter how hard we try; of our own strength, we can do NOTHING good. Every time we try, <b>we will <i>undoubtedly</i> </b>fail. That's why we gotta listen to the still, small, Voice that speaks through the Heavenly G.P.S and follow His lead; because like me, your destination could be directly in front of you and you still make a wrong turn. Don't try to be a hero, don't try to make it on your own. Also of utmost importance; like that email I got that sent me the wrong way, people and other external influences will give you advice and influence that seems right, but they will ultimately lead you on the wrong path, and at times into the windy abyss of destruction. We must follow the map that God gives. Yes, sometimes He will send people to explain the map directions to us, but we must be very careful who we trust and listen to.<br />
<br />
So my drivers out there, even if is just a two foot turbo you have; if you always know the way to where you're going, good for you! I hope to be like that one day. But from both an earthly and spiritual plain, knowing the way comes with experience and studying the map (the Bible). Just remember, for your earthly vehicular travels you may not always need one, but you will always, ALWAYS need Heavenly G.P.S to get to heaven :)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-19022193248494804042013-10-02T17:05:00.001-05:002013-10-02T17:15:45.005-05:00The Job Hunt Chronicles - The Comparison<div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rCzBp69o7eE/UkvLyg1vfyI/AAAAAAAABzo/5Wuw_OOdTrQ/s1600/20130926_170934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rCzBp69o7eE/UkvLyg1vfyI/AAAAAAAABzo/5Wuw_OOdTrQ/s320/20130926_170934.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
As you may (or may not) have known by now, I'm no longer in Jamaica.<br />
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If you didn't know, well... umm... SURPRISE! I'm not there anymore! I meant to tell you, but umm... it was kinda sudden and it slipped me? (Maybe?) Okay, you don't buy it. Well... I suppose I'm gonna have to make it up to you huh... Okay, when I come back; I promise. When will that be you say? Weeeeeell... Lemme get back to you on that. *wink*</div>
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I'm sure most of y'all would figure out sooner or later that I'm in America: the "Land of Opportunity".</div>
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Like I said in my <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/09/farewell-sweet-jamaica-open-letter-to.html" target="_blank">earlier blog post when I left Jamaica</a> or my <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/columns/Farewell--sweet-Jamaica_15004210" target="_blank">article in the Jamaica Observer</a> (which is the edited version of the blog post) I'm here to improve myself and the standard of living for me and my family.</div>
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To improve one's self in the sense of which I speak, takes "mucho dinero", "moolah", "green", "dollars"--or simply put; MONEY! As an adult, what is the number one way to acquire said money? Yes, that's right: <strike>standing on the street corner with a sign begging</strike> getting a job, duh!</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF11KbqimNSaInZ8-NHS_rZjvW12-Qh7131f81xC3hcT62JN_oCdK6qLNdT1YzY-CGFOtmCvSKfInyTPHFkhTAXXcRllXNmPPhY2wC-Ixkc1eHV7PKw9nSTDTK43n5VsqBNX4prZl3n7k/s1600/San_hunter_wth_bow_and_arrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF11KbqimNSaInZ8-NHS_rZjvW12-Qh7131f81xC3hcT62JN_oCdK6qLNdT1YzY-CGFOtmCvSKfInyTPHFkhTAXXcRllXNmPPhY2wC-Ixkc1eHV7PKw9nSTDTK43n5VsqBNX4prZl3n7k/s320/San_hunter_wth_bow_and_arrow.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from <a class="irc_hol irc_itl" data-ved="0CAQQjB0" href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=zbhcj2flUF-njM&tbnid=jxUbFMXa_kiukM:&ved=0CAQQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.fotopedia.com%2Fwiki%2FBow_and_arrow&ei=t8lLUoeIFZHg8wTK74CYCQ&bvm=bv.53371865,d.eWU&psig=AFQjCNEwJO_eCJfffjofVf0mfg5uBQqpHw&ust=1380784901175351" style="cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;"><span class="irc_ho" style="background-color: white; color: black; margin-right: -2px; padding-right: 2px; text-decoration: underline;">www.fotopedia.com</span></a></td></tr>
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As up to this point (October 2, 2013 at 4:27 p.m.), I am yet to arrive at my place of settlement in the great United States of America; but, since I'm all about being proactive and "nuff" in this place to get what I want since nothing will be handed out to me, I've electronically been like a hunter with bow and arrow in hand, hunting for that prized 9-5 (or otherwise) to get my dreams started. So far, I've hit a few targets in the foot, but I haven't caught dinner for the village just yet. And in case you're reading now and your face is like "o_O huh?! What is he saying?!" I'm simply using my hunter terms to tell you that I've gotten calls, had interview discussions, and even set a few interview dates; but I'm yet to snag a job. All clear? You're welcome.</div>
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This is in part due to me not yet arriving at my place of settlement like I said before, but it's certainly progress. During this process, I have already experienced a stark difference between seeking employment here and in Jamaica.</div>
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<b><u>The Jamaican Job Hunt</u></b></div>
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In one simple sentence: I'm QUITE DISGUSTED at what I knew as the application process in Jamaica! </div>
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Too many people I know can relate to this all too well. It's like trying to kill a deer with a rubber band and some paper bullets! Okay fine, upgrade that to a slingshot, but still.. Mark you, everyone has not had the same bad experiences, but for the most part, I'm quite sure the treatment received in Jamaica is pretty much standard issue; save for a few blessed hardworking, honest, equal opportunity Human Resource teams.</div>
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I don't know of any, but I'm just saying, you know, just in case there actually are some.</div>
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In Jamaica, after seeing job postings online or in the newspapers, earnest job seekers send several applications by electronic and physical mail with much anticipation for that one place to 'connect'. After all, you only need to get into one place to get something going, and then the horizon can be broadened. At this point, I really <i>really</i> want to blame the lack of responses on Jamaica being a third world/developing country, but bwoy... almost everyone in Jamaica has a cell phone, and most have internet access, so people can be reached instantaneously to discuss job possibilities, so that's gone through the window straightaway.</div>
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What seems to happen normally? Well, there are the <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/06/bwooooy-i-wish-i-could-help-but-i-need.html" target="_blank">sad situations like this</a>. Then there are the ones like these: Applications pile up in H.R. offices, or are placed on 'file', for what reason, I'm not sure; since each time someone is not successful in acquiring a job, <i>IF CONTACTED AT ALL </i>and informed of this, the person is promised to be placed on files that merely take up space for no reason and are never revisited. I applied to one place and got this response twice. Yeah, I'm an expert. At least they responded though, right? It would appear that during the application process, the first 50 or so are considered from the top of the pile, all while knowing full well that John Smith or Mary Brown--friends from church--asked about a work for their son, daughter, brother or sister, and so that position's owner has already been decided. In Jamdung, "links run di werl". That, and I think H.R. people in JA don't care much for humans as they ought.</div>
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<b>>>>>>>> Fast forward to America, where people actually respond! And FAAAAST too!</b><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hEUAGV77Gm0/UkyLzj9eqTI/AAAAAAAABz4/n443nC27etA/s1600/customer-service-rep.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hEUAGV77Gm0/UkyLzj9eqTI/AAAAAAAABz4/n443nC27etA/s200/customer-service-rep.png" width="173" /></a></div>
I guess most places in Jamaica haven't heard about auto reply to email applications, but it's all the rage here. Before you even done applying you get an email response! AAAAAANND, though annoying at times, in order to apply for jobs in most companies here, there are talent networks that you <i>have to </i>sign up for before applying. When you sign up, these networks send you postings to other jobs for which you are qualified based on your selected interests and qualifications! Is that awesome or what? Then, to top it all off, if you're qualified, someone (who I imagine looks a lot like this lady) <br />
-------------><br />
<br />
named either Amanda, Katie or Jennifer calls you in a day or two, sounding really <i>really </i>interested in you and having you work with that company to set up an interview for the next day. I am pleased to announce that my morale has been repaired for all the non-responses to all the applications I ever made in Jamaica, I swear! And yes, I won't say links aren't used or aren't helpful up here too, but it sure feels like equal opportunity for most of these jobs.<br />
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Clearly, I know I won't be successful in snagging every single job for which I apply, but the way things seem to be going, I have no doubt that I will <i>not</i> be jobless for much longer. The way things work here, I feel like a lot of people who aren't working, really don''t wanna work. That's not always the case, I'm sure, but I know that a lot of people could've been doing better if they really wanted to. I've been so pleased at the process for getting a job, most times I come onto the computer planning to do one thing, I end up applying for a couple jobs! People have been calling me and sometimes I don't even remember what I applied for. Sure feels good to be contacted though. These H.R. persons even send you directions to get to the buildings for interviews! I'm super excited at the possibilities that await.<br />
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Don't worry, I'm well aware that people might be prejudiced because of my skin colour <strike>because I'm hotter than them</strike>, or because I'm an immigrant (which I find kinda dumb since America was born BECAUSE of immigrants), but I'm going forth with God, the Supreme Owner of <u style="font-style: italic;">everything</u>; a positive outlook and humble approach. I. will. not. be. denied.<br />
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As soon as my arrow kills the game (another name for food that is hunted), I'll let the village (y'all) know.<br />
Wish me luck!<br />
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<b>Editor's Note: </b>Got my first email of being unsuccessful for a freelance writing gig mere seconds after publishing this post. lol go figure!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-3822605073843013582013-09-27T09:40:00.000-05:002013-09-27T09:40:20.817-05:00Your Ticket to Heaven...It's been a while since I've waxed religious on this blog (<i>Yes, I said <b>waxed</b>--sue me</i>), and I feel it's my duty to share these little nuggets, every now and then... You know, 'cause Jesus says I should :)<br />
This one came to me from an unexpected source, and my best friend Carl had a similar encounter, but it's always that much more real, when you experience it for yourself. I hope the message will reach home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflYTZRX0t2Dm0MV_qRb8XDeShpdnYikm5LXjSfbhI1Z8h0UyPGRGVlWgbhoWEsCkx-Jokbqi5OvNstp4X31O3SOJymhi8GRv_gfVdob8rKuVTY9oxqTwtyUeOtDVXv3xthhXXM6i9Ins/s1600/Train+Ticket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflYTZRX0t2Dm0MV_qRb8XDeShpdnYikm5LXjSfbhI1Z8h0UyPGRGVlWgbhoWEsCkx-Jokbqi5OvNstp4X31O3SOJymhi8GRv_gfVdob8rKuVTY9oxqTwtyUeOtDVXv3xthhXXM6i9Ins/s320/Train+Ticket.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
God uses some really simple ways sometimes to drive home some big points, and sometimes, if you're not paying attention, you'll miss it.<br />
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Now, I'm sure you notice that train ticket to the side. By itself, it's just blah... meaningless. But as of today, Thursday, September 26 2013, it represents a whole lot more to me.<br />
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Last week, my family and I took the train to visit a relative of ours. Before getting on the train, we had to buy tickets. Due to how this system is very structured and orderly, unlike <strike>a certain disorganized and chamba-chamba country</strike> *ahem* Jamaica, the train comes and goes on a schedule, and pretty much waits for no one. We had made it to the station just in the nick of time to get our tickets and get on the train. While on the train, an attendant is supposed to come around and verify everyone's ticket or easy cards to ensure that everyone paid. On the way to visit our relative, this did not happen. Two days later we were heading home, and I said that it made no sense to buy tickets because no one was going to check. Well, my sweet, law abiding parents bought the tickets anyway, and sure enough--NOBODY checked!<br />
<br />
Today (26/9/13), I was taking the train on my own, and the saaame thought came to my head. "Why bother buy a ticket if no one is going to check?" But, my parents' law abiding-ness apparently is hereditary so I bought my ticket... What do you think happened this time?<br />
<br />
Of COURSE! There he was, dressed in a khaki suit with a black stripe on the pants and the Tri-Rail symbol mounted on his shoulder, looking all police-like with a scanner in his hand. "May I see your ticket please?" asked the gentleman, to which I obliged.<br />
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Some hours later after a fun evening, with my lesson learned, I searched desperately for my ticket (it was round trip) while on my way back to the train station. After coming up empty from both pockets I was mightily relieved to find it tucked away safely in my wallet. On the way back, as you would imagine, tickets were checked again; who'd a thunk it? Not me. Good thing I was prepared.<br />
<br />
Yup, good thing I was prepared. And you know, a bright smile came upon my face as I sent the following text message to my friend Carl:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Such is the kingdom of heaven. You can be ready all your life, and then you seh<i> "Chuh! God naa come"</i>; and then you do all kinda fawt--next thing you drop out (die) and you have a one way ticket to hell..."</blockquote>
The message is simple. Life is too uncertain for us not to have our houses in order. We need to make sure our lives are in accordance with the will of God, or else, when the Ultimate Ticket Checker of Life comes, we will be found wanting, and will suffer the eternal consequence. Jesus is your ticket to Heaven.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fWvIGue0muI/UkUZxZZHxoI/AAAAAAAABw0/2_uA-RfLduw/s1600/SPS700_steam_engine_2005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fWvIGue0muI/UkUZxZZHxoI/AAAAAAAABw0/2_uA-RfLduw/s400/SPS700_steam_engine_2005.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The gospel train is a'comin'! And you best believe it won't be long. When you get on board, will you have your ticket? I definitely will.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-23350968350711996722013-09-13T01:17:00.002-05:002013-09-13T01:17:37.730-05:00Farewell, Sweet Jamaica - Open Letter to my Country<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Today (Friday, September 13, 2013),
I leave the country of my birth to live in another land. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">(I know I know, Friday the 13th, boohoo! I'm soooo scared *rolls eyes*)</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><b>N.B. This was published in the Jamaica Observer on Wednesday, September 11, 2013. You can view that <i>highly edited</i> version here ----> <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/columns/Farewell--sweet-Jamaica_15004210" target="_blank">HIGHLY EDITED VERSION</a></b></span><br />
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For the original, continue reading.</div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I take with me, my
skills, talents, knowledge and experience(s), as I prepare to expand and use
them in the land for which I am bound. As most of you read this, I have already
arrived at my new destination. Why did I leave you may ask? I'll tell you.<br />
<br />
Jamaica needs hope; hope that seems to be on the brink of extinction. Hope that
surely will not be forthcoming from our leaders--CERTAINLY not this generation
anyway. As we speak, the leadership in the opposition Jamaica Labour Party will
potentially be up for grabs, and should it change to the potential contender, I
don't know if that would make any positive difference.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vIjhZBkHuORWUo0ZxzssWFnndAS37CIhPFAqSt-RVa94gZxWYdZKMku73KXwsGtg6tTXdNg_-62cMUv2Z7WkLKv7xVk3m1nEhMTq_YWnb1ztSlgD-1jtnHRgq_2vW9-4aGxEYacICqA/s1600/Andrew+vs+Audley+(thepolitricks.com).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vIjhZBkHuORWUo0ZxzssWFnndAS37CIhPFAqSt-RVa94gZxWYdZKMku73KXwsGtg6tTXdNg_-62cMUv2Z7WkLKv7xVk3m1nEhMTq_YWnb1ztSlgD-1jtnHRgq_2vW9-4aGxEYacICqA/s320/Andrew+vs+Audley+(thepolitricks.com).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from thepolitricks.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">You may ask; is the
political system in my new found land perfect? No. Are the societal flaws too?
Of course. But, at this point in my young life, those seem a lot more bearable.<br />
<br />
Then, there are the job and educational situations. Jamaica does not appreciate
its pupils as it ought, and it's a crying shame for students leaving secondary
schools with 10 distinctions who get stuck because they came from poor families
who cannot afford to send them further. For those who do go further and excel
in university, they are unable to get jobs because they cannot acquire capital
to create new businesses, and employers are hiring only their friends and
persons who are experienced (i.e. old, needing to retire), all while looking
over their shoulders to see if the Student's Loan Bureau </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">will publish them in
the island-wide wall of shame for nonpayment of their loans. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqxygX_Ae7tmplToIdFWC9mHMGRU44tStIcZ9vWOS3oCdtCeSvgG1WbsMoQtiP-_20E7KixON1-fiMj9uN_hif5loih6Vic-YwMUMNXm4KBUCx3uNcjJ968jGCivz8-RsNE23Q8qOU34/s1600/SLB.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqxygX_Ae7tmplToIdFWC9mHMGRU44tStIcZ9vWOS3oCdtCeSvgG1WbsMoQtiP-_20E7KixON1-fiMj9uN_hif5loih6Vic-YwMUMNXm4KBUCx3uNcjJ968jGCivz8-RsNE23Q8qOU34/s1600/SLB.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Those who are
trained and qualified watch while we import workers from Asia, Europe and
everywhere not named Jamaica, leaving them to twiddle their thumbs while leaders
in those countries ensure to cater to their own first. As a resident of my new
home, the scope for opportunity is much larger, both geographically and quantitatively.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04hK4D1kNY3q8rhFmzKqUblrYi6ilWnV0VF3AMdD4c8TdLu3YnebRKfeO7RzWX5ewQNI0Oh9i7W0qrscApNQw-x5ck4Oc_e67De39Cl7tgoTYVZemaIBpKSObO2DuZ-83d4wURDrcp-E/s1600/Little-Goat-Island--A-S_h200+JA+Observer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04hK4D1kNY3q8rhFmzKqUblrYi6ilWnV0VF3AMdD4c8TdLu3YnebRKfeO7RzWX5ewQNI0Oh9i7W0qrscApNQw-x5ck4Oc_e67De39Cl7tgoTYVZemaIBpKSObO2DuZ-83d4wURDrcp-E/s320/Little-Goat-Island--A-S_h200+JA+Observer.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goat Islands - Photo Courtesy of the Jamaica Observer</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Jamaica can be oppressive, in a sense where the system seems to be set to fail,
especially the poor and middle class. That way the rich get richer, and the
poor continue to struggle and look to an uncaring government for help and
handouts. Our society is supposed to be democratic, but our governments, past
and present love to act first and deal with the consequences later. Face it, no
matter what the populous says, the outcome of the Goat Islands conversation as
the potential spot to house the Logistics Hub will be decided by (and probably
is already decided) by the Cabinet’s decision, with little to no thought
towards the people’s and environmentalist alarms. As we’ve come to learn, nobody's
voice is heard, unless there's blocking of roads, brutal murder or an anomaly
occurs that draws media attention. It is really sad.<br />
<br />
I go to a society, where you can literally "tun yuh han' and mek
fashion" with just about anything, not only clothing; one where you can
work in sanitation and custodial services and hold your head high and be proud
of your honest living and still be comfortable enough, as opposed to Jamaica
where upturned nostrils and empty pockets are the most common sights for these
persons, who look forward to Christmas time where they leave little envelopes
hoping for a little serendipity. I go to a society, where, though imperfect,
the justice system works, and quickly at that. A society, where corrupt persons
are caught daily and prosecuted; a society where much care and financial
support are given to the educational system; one where there already exists
designated school buses, where there isn’t a daily squabble between commuters
and public passenger vehicle operators over correct fares, and where state
owned buses don’t spew you with toxic, noxious fumes every time they move from
a halt. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPiIDJn76Lf2xk_zae9CYT0BUOUCQ0GN_twviJy2ioYpJqjG2UZ_GJ8wSogrbPJ0TUo9SXn5zR7-67-6dcqVBtnmQcP6NSKhynw5WR9LfVin7w-XwCvReoHYjUcd3NG9DPxZsHJFtv7Q/s1600/An_electric_Amtrak_train_with_two_AEM_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPiIDJn76Lf2xk_zae9CYT0BUOUCQ0GN_twviJy2ioYpJqjG2UZ_GJ8wSogrbPJ0TUo9SXn5zR7-67-6dcqVBtnmQcP6NSKhynw5WR9LfVin7w-XwCvReoHYjUcd3NG9DPxZsHJFtv7Q/s200/An_electric_Amtrak_train_with_two_AEM_7.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of translationdirectory.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNqCX-qaI1mRDZKCYJQ8kqbE57uktl318_VICh8AW9VXWlc7oQIWoXvaRYmtMRVIbtxFu_jMXKZY4KOd3fJHmHTLIEO77Qr2lBBJFtETaRlfSq0wDTb4l6nXQfsNLiM5ql8u97Dsaa2LI/s1600/JUTC+Courtesy+of+Gleaner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNqCX-qaI1mRDZKCYJQ8kqbE57uktl318_VICh8AW9VXWlc7oQIWoXvaRYmtMRVIbtxFu_jMXKZY4KOd3fJHmHTLIEO77Qr2lBBJFtETaRlfSq0wDTb4l6nXQfsNLiM5ql8u97Dsaa2LI/s200/JUTC+Courtesy+of+Gleaner.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of the Jamaica Gleaner</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><b>Trading</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><b><---- this for this ---></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It is a society where, save for the occasional instance where skin
colour matters, there is truly equal opportunity for ALL.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I
go, to improve myself, and my standard of living for a happier life. But, I
will not—CANNOT—forget my sweet Jamaica. No matter the trials and tribulations,
'nuh weh no betta dan yaad'. I'll send remittances, and admonish persons to
visit. I won't turn my back on my home. I'll keep tabs on my island in the sun
and continue to engage in debate and conversation with fellow locals on ways to
improve life here, because, who knows, maybe like the in the movie 'Terminator',
"I'll be back."</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-58615427445328863352013-08-13T13:53:00.003-05:002013-08-13T14:16:42.664-05:00What Customer Service and Being a Christian Have in Common :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Its been a <strong>LONG </strong>while since I've posted anything. I don't know why. Must be because<a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/If-the-grass-is-greener--cows-will-graze_14535832" target="_blank"> I've been busy</a>; I've been <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130802/letters/letters3.html" target="_blank">writing</a> to <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/Some-more-equal---_14725232" target="_blank">the newspapers</a> a bit, so much so it seems I've forgotten about my little spot here :(</div>
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I'm sorry spot, Daddy's here again. Hush yaaw baby, don't cry, I'm here to write on you again.</div>
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Let me FINALLY post this entry that I've been writing since the 2nd week in June. #Don'tJudgeMe</div>
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I'm pretty sure from the topic, you can immediately start to make comparisons between Christianity and Customer Service. But juuuuuust in case you can't, I'm sure this post will give you a little jolt and bring it to light. (Awesome metaphor there nuh true? "Jolt" and "light"... See what I did there? :D )</div>
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Anywhoooo... Now to my story. <strong><em>Of course</em></strong>. You <em>know</em> there's <em>always </em>a story :)</div>
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At my current place of employment, I'm in the Communication and Customer Service department. A part of my duties is to relieve the receptionist daily for an hour so she can get her lunch. While in university, I was a receptionist on the male dorm for about a year or thereabout, so I kinda had a little experience before hand. But bwoooy, there and here is a WHOLE different cup of tea!</div>
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Working on dorm was like a nice cup of Barsley, while this place at times can be like the most bitter of all bitter <a href="http://www.leviticus11.com/cerasse.htm" target="_blank">cerasse tea!</a> (Yuh did know seh a suh it spell? I thought it was "cerci" :s )</div>
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All things considered, throughout every situation, I try to maintain the most positive and cheerful attitude, no matter what happens, or no matter who <strike>or if my boss ALWAYS</strike> bothers/annoys/upsets me.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a pretty accurate depiction of our interaction :/</td></tr>
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On Wednesday, June 12, 2013, I was doing my usual hourly receptionist duty when a gentleman and a lad (who I think was his son) came to the booth. As usual, in my very polite and cordial way I addressed him and asked how I could be of service. Straight off the bat he seemed very brash. He was one of those high coloured Jamaicans, the ones <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/news/Born-big--Jamaica-s-Butch-Stewart-on-defining-success_13713568" target="_blank">you expect to own hotels</a>, <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20050228/business/business1.html" target="_blank">factories and such</a>, whose voices always surprise you just a little bit when you realize they're actually from JA. He came to see one of the General Managers to have some fees waived for his business. I called that GM's extension but it went to voicemail. I called his secretary and I was advised that the GM was on lunch. I informed the gentleman of this, and he in turn informed me in quite a matter-of-factly manner that he was coming all the way from St. Ann and had already spoken to the GM and needed to see him. It was about 12:40pm and he further insisted that he wasn't about to stand around and wait for the GM to come back at 2:30 when he needed to return to the country. Throughout all this, the young lad just looked on grinning sheepishly like I was some sorta rat being cornered by a huge cat, as his father (I'm just assuming) continued to aggressively seek that for which he came. He pressed on, "Suh is only one manager? I can't talk to someone else?" all the while sounding quite annoyed at what seemed like an impending exercise in futility. I said I would try the Managing Director. I was informed that he was in a meeting and was unavailable. I informed the man, and he was not pleased. However, he was adamant that he <em>had to </em>talk to somebody, and he wasn't leaving until he did. I called the GM's secretary again, who advised that the gentleman could choose to wait until the GM's return. It was at this point, he started to make small talk, where I realized he seemed to just be mischievous, and not so brash after all. I told him that he could wait in the lobby, to which he said, "Why can't I wait upstairs? I want to go upstairs and wait. And I want a room with dancing girls." Yes. He really said this. Nuh kno wah do him *shrug*<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaI0qNYP7-0yM35VA8ZmNzjyUeVsq32IWLJ53sqFCR-jFGu2VEvJG5sSEck4y1tVv6DlgXag5V3iLjtLfPS6S3xYRj4YbXjlqmIacxzFTUCrGaRDQmD8mxnJOnIvLmP9Xcy0MiHE40oU/s1600/cheshire-cat-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaI0qNYP7-0yM35VA8ZmNzjyUeVsq32IWLJ53sqFCR-jFGu2VEvJG5sSEck4y1tVv6DlgXag5V3iLjtLfPS6S3xYRj4YbXjlqmIacxzFTUCrGaRDQmD8mxnJOnIvLmP9Xcy0MiHE40oU/s320/cheshire-cat-9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
At the dancing girls utterance, the lad, which once and for all I'll assume <em>IS HIS SON,</em> had the biggest Cheshire cat grin and I couldn't help but smile too. I told him we didn't have any dancing girls, but I could ask if he'd be allowed to wait upstairs. While making the inquiry on his behalf he said that I must be from the country, because I was very courteous and gave him good customer service. When I informed him that I had lived in Portland for sometime, he nodded and said "yeah man, mi know seh a country yuh come from!" Shortly afterwards he said he would go on the road and return and at the same time the rightful receptionist returned, and I promised him that she would take good care of him and he thanked me. After I returned from lunch, I went upstairs, and lo and behold! There he and his son were, waiting to be seen by the GM. He shook my hand and asked for my name and thanked me once more when I was going by. On the return trip, he shook my hand again and told me I was a good man. He admonished me not to change. Guess it was worth it after all. I was really happy to hear that.<br />
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I guess overall this turned out to be a not so bad story, but <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/07/follow-instructions-psh-yeah-right.html" target="_blank">I've had to deal with some people you see</a>? I wish I could step outside the booth and <a href="https://www.google.com.jm/search?q=punching+bag+gif&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=nCnXUYjrCY3M9ASYlIDQDg&ved=0CDEQsAQ&biw=1152&bih=710#tbm=isch&sa=1&q=moving+punching+bag+gif&oq=moving+punching+bag+gif&gs_l=img.3...21290.22619.0.22987.7.7.0.0.0.0.78.455.7.7.0....0...1c.1.19.img.fT0wNJqmvCc&bav=on.2,or.r_cp.r_qf.&bvm=bv.48705608,d.eWU&fp=6e91c6ab6aba849b&biw=1152&bih=710&facrc=_&imgdii=_&imgrc=P8rzlG4FiVIqCM%3A%3BwYkrhmviJrGmXM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fobscureinternet.com%252Fwp-content%252Fuploads%252Fkid-owns-himself-with-punching-bag-Fail-Gifs.gif%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fobscureinternet.com%252Ffail-in-motion-fail-gifs%252F%3B306%3B230" target="_blank">punch them in the face</a>. And keep punching. And punching. Until my fist marks are outlined in their faces. You know... Just because.</div>
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Some people come in here thinking that you owe them everything and you should drop your entire life just to suit them. I believe in the customer's rights, but at the same time, some of them push it a little too far. I've encountered some real disgusting and difficult people (usually for no apparent reason) in this place, and it takes real control not to talk to them the way they talk and behave towards you. If you're a practicing Christian this is all too familiar.</div>
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Many times as Christians, people do all manner of evil to us, just because they can. They allow the devil to use them to try to provoke us to wrath, just so they can accomplish their own selfish whims and desires. But despite this, no matter how difficult it may be, we should always pray to the Father and instead of being unkind, give them good Christian service. Just check out what <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs%2025:21-22&version=NIV" target="_blank">Proverbs 25: 21-22</a> has to say about that. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iHFTLknzI_NGw14iPk35C5QyFi5jdk4yzgMDVTyI8BI0qIlvrYsScMVgqOZ8lRUU8mhXl79DFiBii3fuUbWLZhI0mMucDCrGbkChfw6PzFSbgp1UttRBV-6ftXUCh0nMep4sCt9ird0/s1600/coals+of+fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iHFTLknzI_NGw14iPk35C5QyFi5jdk4yzgMDVTyI8BI0qIlvrYsScMVgqOZ8lRUU8mhXl79DFiBii3fuUbWLZhI0mMucDCrGbkChfw6PzFSbgp1UttRBV-6ftXUCh0nMep4sCt9ird0/s1600/coals+of+fire.jpg" /></a>Our goal should not be to heap coals of fire on anyone's heads, but to show that we have the love of Jesus in our hearts, so no matter what anyone tries to do to hurt us, we can smile and know that they can't phase us or stop our praise. We know what our reward will be. Jesus said to <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+5%3A43-48&version=NIV" target="_blank">love your enemies</a> (check the link) and he said it more than once. "If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that." (Matt 5:47 NLT)</div>
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I posted the song below before, but it's so powerful and relevant, I'm sharing it again. Remember the next time you have to do customer or Christian service, that it pays to serve Jesus :)<br />
Don't worry about getting back at anybody down here on earth; frankly, earth sucks! Store your treasures in heaven. Enjoy the song.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hnTvwvyi2Tc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-4931428572893707632013-07-12T16:44:00.000-05:002013-07-12T17:44:51.406-05:00A Sad, Sad Norm...Yesterday (Thursday, July 11, 2013) I was leaving work with two jackets in my hand, about to cross the street to meet my parents who were waiting for me down the road. I had just gotten them altered and picked them up from the tailor during my lunch time. They were in the plastic covering and this gave the appearance that they were new suits I suppose. One of my coworkers who was standing at the gate with two others, saw the jackets and asked if I just got a new suit for a wedding; <em>MY wedding</em> to be exact, with a big grin on his face. <strong>Mi look like mi ready fi married? :s</strong><br />
He's a cool guy still; we don't talk much, mostly 'cause he's quiet, but we always hail each other and we have a decent working relationship. For some reason he was quite interested in this little<a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/faux" target="_blank"> <em>faux</em></a> development in my life. I told him no, I wasn't going to a wedding, nor MY wedding (any time soon at least), and informed him I was merely bringing the jackets from the tailor. I went as far as to add that I couldn't be getting married because "mi haffi find a ooman first!" with a laugh. Who tell mi fi guh seh dat? Rahtid!<br />
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About a month or so earlier, he saw me with a lady friend of mine in Half-Way-Tree, one to whom I even introduced him, y'know, seeing that I'm polite and all. <br />
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Bredrin! The man start laugh and ask how mi suh lie, 'cause him see me wid ooman a Half-Way-Tree. I couldn't help but laugh too and assure him that the person he saw was only a good female friend of mine.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">That's when the bombshell dropped.</span></strong></div>
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TOTALLY devoid or unconcerned of the two summer workers beside him (who happened to be girls), the man just blurted out, with grin fully intact:<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"Suh, yuh start beat it yet?"</span></strong></div>
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Uhh... What?</div>
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Yeah... that's really what he asked. I'm still trying to figure out how two jackets in my hand led to that. Anywho, I could only offer an awkward smile and say no. I wanted to go as far as to let him know that that wasn't a practice of mine, and I was planning to wait until marriage, but I think that would have caused even more of an outcry. Right away I took the moment as my cue to leave and informed him that I had to go, and I went across the street and into the safe haven of my parents' car.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74CSwJVGkgxT_foo2c-_DRq463X6uZoohICznybvUJlU8yshPCxsoEcSc25p6IrCw02tY5HmfhCXMefYQr6oglzdMUCojY3Fhgci_MczujyG6lUl1F1QYuGZlv70A3jk2laLLvJoNKQo/s1600/Marking-Territory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74CSwJVGkgxT_foo2c-_DRq463X6uZoohICznybvUJlU8yshPCxsoEcSc25p6IrCw02tY5HmfhCXMefYQr6oglzdMUCojY3Fhgci_MczujyG6lUl1F1QYuGZlv70A3jk2laLLvJoNKQo/s320/Marking-Territory.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dog doing as a dog does... Marking territory.</td></tr>
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Now, I thought about it a little, and I was like "Wow. Is this really the society I live in?" Is this really how most of my contemporaries think these days, that the aim of talking to girls is just to have sex? Bwoy, I don't know about you, but that's a pretty sad reality to me. Here is a society, not isolated to only Jamaica, where it is expected that you're just supposed to have sex--lots of it, with lots of girls--before you're married, and that's the norm.</div>
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(I would say at least is not just us in Jamaica, but what consolation is that really?)</div>
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Any girl you talk to, that's the ultimate goal apparently; Get in. Hit it. Get out, and after that goal is attained, you move on very much like a dog would and continue to leave your pee (semen/pee--close enough) each place you visit, to mark the territory claimed/conquered.</div>
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Things like this make me ponder how much <em>I don't</em> want to have daughters, just because of guys who live their whole lives with this mindset. Clearly they would have to make their own choices, and you could even argue that my sons could turn out like that, although I'd do my best to ensure that they don't. What ever happened to <b>Love, Marriage </b><i>and then</i><b> Sex?</b> Is that process flow obsolete now?</div>
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Here is Jamaica, with most hitting out against gays only, but it's apparently cool to have "nuff gyal" and 'hundred stab' di whole a dem. The thought may be okay to some, but for me? It's a sad, sad norm.</div>
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<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsopjdgEYTTaGsX790NqhEAhp3S9HFbTNkL_sJlYcqGZ8GOlKUPxRIOzsV0m-FuKIxWB0iF7ORSzRDIr1Gk4Xw5CAcFW4xghH6fnaifiLk9FYJ2XAUA-RK0IJvM-pDyU0WFSbbfMS-Oo/s320/get+in.jpg" width="320" /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-15912881274742713312013-07-09T12:15:00.000-05:002013-07-09T12:15:04.346-05:00Follow Instructions? PSH! Yeah Right!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnaQ947oRLb2cheIfbBAA5ttd9cHvN17i8TRv7L43_YVZ3fFUjdwix023Kf3C3IKXAZI93gZaUW_aVQseCYjUAmh-5hrJCPfNi3vwzvJsOITUplTqdF23W-Ri15eBjIDl-A2oD9hlvF8/s1600/black_warning_sign_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnaQ947oRLb2cheIfbBAA5ttd9cHvN17i8TRv7L43_YVZ3fFUjdwix023Kf3C3IKXAZI93gZaUW_aVQseCYjUAmh-5hrJCPfNi3vwzvJsOITUplTqdF23W-Ri15eBjIDl-A2oD9hlvF8/s320/black_warning_sign_l.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">RANT AHEAD!</span></div>
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And this is EXACTLY WHY JAMAICAN SOCIETY IS IN IT'S CURRENT MESS! NOBODY WANTS TO FOLLOW ORDERS! UGH!</div>
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Where I work, there are several entrances. Some specific to employees, and others for the general public. At the receptionist area where I work sometimes, there are two doors. One door, directly behind the receptionist booth, is <em>specifically</em> for employees, or deliveries. The other is a door <strong>for visitors</strong> beside the receptionist booth, who, if they need to speak to employees, or conduct business with the company's management, they are allowed in. After their visit, they are supposed to leave through that <em><strong>same </strong></em>door. Why? Because they're not employees. Duh!</div>
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I really think that this sign to the left needs to be on the door behind the receptionist. But then again, maybe it wouldn't even matter, because the very same employees are the ones allowing every and anybody to abuse it.</div>
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I was at the receptionist booth, and a man came to the visitor's door and beckoned for me to let him in. I did, and I don't know where he went, but shortly after he returned and went to the other door, which is for employees. I suppose this is because people are just lazy and this door is easy to access and so they would rather exit through that door than walk around through the main entrance. However, I have been told SEVERAL times, that that door is for EMPLOYEES. Everybody else is <em>supposed to</em> walk through the other one! This man is like "let me out deh nuh", like he's soooo important, rules don't apply to him. I responded, "I'm not supposed to do that." He hit me with this look like, 'Yute, yuh serious? Yuh cyaa let me out?' and proceeded to say "yuh naa let me out?" like I was obligated to. I gave him the same response. You see, if he was humble with it, then even though I'm not supposed to, <em>MAYBE</em> I would've, but him a gwaan like seh it was my duty! No bredda, a nuh suh it work! Or... so I thought.</div>
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There comes a co-worker, (who I'm not pleased to call that either) with his pass to let the man out. *cue look of disgust*</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jGXP153vH4lYnyTp8OzDJnuELn_qOKFD9MRwxv8bVUXfYj-dXYBuhyphenhyphenfzn4RILiyEea20p1ssVZqsrs1qFNArjo2iYnmo0GZ9o7F9b6wBzpuT7AIWk6o87ND67w5DHMMIrGsR08kdyM8/s1600/1%2520bak%2520main%2520gate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jGXP153vH4lYnyTp8OzDJnuELn_qOKFD9MRwxv8bVUXfYj-dXYBuhyphenhyphenfzn4RILiyEea20p1ssVZqsrs1qFNArjo2iYnmo0GZ9o7F9b6wBzpuT7AIWk6o87ND67w5DHMMIrGsR08kdyM8/s320/1%2520bak%2520main%2520gate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now, I wasn't trying to be difficult, nor abuse my 'Authority', but I was simply following protocol. I guess my peeps at NCU may argue the same thing about the security there. But attitude goes a long way! Had the man been at least remotely remorseful about wanting to break the rule, then <em>maybe</em> him cudda get a bly; it wouldn't kill me, but don't act like it's a right. Suppose I did it and the General Manager for HR saw me and reprimanded me? He would be quite fine, long gone about his business. Suppose he was a thief? Leaving wid people belongings? Then you woulda hear seh Alwayne Allen let out di man! Not gonna happen <em>ese. </em><strong>No way.</strong></div>
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It shouldn't surprise me that that <em>SAME co-worker </em>was the same one who wanted me to lie to his family member who came to see him on the job. Wanted me to tell her he wasn't there when I was looking right at him. When I told him I couldn't lie, his response? "Yuh a mussi Christian, or Pastor, bout yuh cyaa tell lie."</div>
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(._.) Uh, YEAH I'm a Christian you lying, muscle head idiot!</div>
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<strong>E.G. of Muscle Head Below </strong>(for Clarity)<strong></strong></div>
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Bottom line is, we can't and shouldn't break rules, just to suit ourselves and people. I digress, not all laws will make sense to us, and we won't agree with all of 'em, but breaking them usually does more harm than help. Jamaican society has gotten so accustomed to this that it's now a norm. And we find all kinds of demeaning remarks and names to call people who don't comply to this bad, rule breaking behaviour. If we don't stand for something? We'll fall for every and anything.</div>
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I don't even need to bring up the Christian perspective, but just because I can, I will :D <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/01/i-wish-my-christian-friends-and-i-would.html" target="_blank">> Read it here <</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-75565578469815587842013-06-25T13:58:00.001-05:002013-06-26T08:40:26.560-05:00Want ee Want ee nuh Getty Getty!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Cleary the first thing you would think of when you see the title would be the words of the Tarrus Riley song, although the title is actually <a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tarrusriley/gettygettynowantee.html" target="_blank">"Getty Getty No Want Ee"</a>. I didn't even know I knew this song (ish), such is the power of music! Lemme drop in some of my favourite lines, a la <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130416/cleisure/cleisure3.html" target="_blank">Gordon Robinson style</a> :D</div>
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<em>Sometimes we see<br />
And ringing in my head is what my mama tell meeee<br />
Wanty wanty no getty and getty getty no wanty huh<br />
Wanty wanty no getty and getty getty no wanty huh huh<br />
Wanty wanty no getty and getty getty no wantyyyyy<br />
Wanty wanty no getty and getty getty no wanty</em></div>
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Chuh! Just watch the video and listen the song yaaa man!</div>
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Now that we've gotten that out of our collective systems, I suppose I should tell you what this all about. Well, you see, once upon a time, there was this little boy named Bob. The end. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixwYeuCrIs4SUfIXlB5NXA5KD7sgJw0wSBH6zaMhFLim0t-HnxoiNW3bmCKX8GcGh3H1-NfPd9iyZ5xdc2rqQ4ax_OrrWr57KDoNm8GEMBJ9AmQuwL-v1kX8lg4r_5v8khW2LLvEgL57M/s1600/big-teeth-smiley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixwYeuCrIs4SUfIXlB5NXA5KD7sgJw0wSBH6zaMhFLim0t-HnxoiNW3bmCKX8GcGh3H1-NfPd9iyZ5xdc2rqQ4ax_OrrWr57KDoNm8GEMBJ9AmQuwL-v1kX8lg4r_5v8khW2LLvEgL57M/s320/big-teeth-smiley.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Okay! Okay! I'll get to it! lol</div>
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Can somebody tell me, why people stay suh? Seriously! Oh, I'm supposed to tell you how nuh.<br />
You do something nice or thoughtful for somebody one time. ONE! And then what happens? They <em>NEVER </em>stop coming back. Unless of course you grow some large <em>cojones </em>an' jus run dem weh. Currently, I don't possess any large ones. But bwoy. That behavior from people makes you weary mayne... You get tired of it easily, nuh true? "True or False? Through!!!" (Big up Annette btw)<br />
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<strong>DISCLAIMER: This has nothing to do with any recent interaction with any of my current friends/associates/family. Zeen? Just making sure I put it out there before the imaginary consciences start biting and mi get cuss out an' a nuh yuh mi dida talk. Cool? Cool.</strong><br />
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Soooo, there's a girl at work, actually many (it's a female dominated environment), but yeah, a <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PE9A_ODLUR4woeIJ4NS4pz02vPstCHPa7ZkJqsXNkZmMw0GyXRzyeTmsqkaoCzSljLsP4pA_6OfFyTxEDWms6zlytDVZwiyyPLxi2bmVk3xtcB99X9XoYMtM9VxpxaouH-iY1hmkLu4/s1600/blackberry+meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PE9A_ODLUR4woeIJ4NS4pz02vPstCHPa7ZkJqsXNkZmMw0GyXRzyeTmsqkaoCzSljLsP4pA_6OfFyTxEDWms6zlytDVZwiyyPLxi2bmVk3xtcB99X9XoYMtM9VxpxaouH-iY1hmkLu4/s1600/blackberry+meme.jpg" /></a></div>
particular girl. Anybody who's had a Blackberry or knowledge of those phones know they SUUUUUCK when it comes on to battery life and have to be charged quite often. I however have two batteries and charge my phone every night before bed so I don't really need to charge at work. However, I walk with my USB charger, and I suppose she saw me use it before, so late one evening she came to ask me to borrow it. Actually, the line now is <strong>"Alwayne, can get likkle charge please?"</strong><br />
The first time she did it was late one evening; work ends at 5 and she came like 4:30, so that's not a long period of time, and of course I never had a problem. I'm kind to people... *initially.<br />
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Fast forward to a couple weeks later! At LEAST 3 times a week this girl comin' to me! Why? Say it with me:<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Alwayne, can get likkle charge please?"</span></strong></div>
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A me one know fi charge mi phone a mi yaad?! First it was in the evening, now, she start come inna d mawnin! Of course. My purpose in life is to come to work to let you charge your phone. Gotchya. And you KNOW how these things go--the gospel of blackberry chargers spreads like wildfire. As of yesterday, it's no longer one girl, but two. Mi mad fi jus buy a "work charger" gi dem!</div>
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That story of teaching a man to fish instead of giving him a fish ain't no joke!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrItUjn-e2sWroi8FTBCDiHL7eCev7iaQk24LSfQxoDSWPxhNE-Kjmf_OIZS9rvNILAE8PmGPFy9e-E1fitVlwMiui0kdQG5YxwBz0Ut6VmA6Jw2Qm8wfxUt34EDEFM6h60rBu30ftDY4/s1600/Dominos_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrItUjn-e2sWroi8FTBCDiHL7eCev7iaQk24LSfQxoDSWPxhNE-Kjmf_OIZS9rvNILAE8PmGPFy9e-E1fitVlwMiui0kdQG5YxwBz0Ut6VmA6Jw2Qm8wfxUt34EDEFM6h60rBu30ftDY4/s320/Dominos_0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The second instance was this guy at a basketball court near to where I live. It's about 5mins driving distance, so I usually drive there. Apparently he lives relatively close to where I live, even though I have to pass my yaad to go to his. Out of the goodness of my heart I gave him a ride one Tuesday night. I know that it was a Tuesday because I stopped at Dominoes on the way home to get that <a href="https://www.google.com.jm/search?q=dominos+xl+pizza&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=rOzJUabsEYnA9QTMjIDABQ&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAQ&biw=1152&bih=749#tbm=isch&sa=1&q=dominos+pizza&oq=dominos+pizza&gs_l=img.3..0l4j0i10j0l5.1931.2551.0.3342.3.3.0.0.0.0.76.207.3.3.0...0.0...1c.1.17.img.-eLg26Pz-xw&bav=on.2,or.r_cp.r_qf.&bvm=bv.48293060,d.eWU&fp=b3f1d3ab0da44b98&biw=1152&bih=749&facrc=_&imgdii=_&imgrc=OXujCJU8uFK2HM%3A%3B4YBPRrFpq961cM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fdominos-specials.com%252Fwp-content%252Fuploads%252F2012%252F04%252Fdominos_pizza2.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fdominos-specials.com%252F2012%252F04%252Fdominos-pizza-specials-and-coupons%252F%3B433%3B274" target="_blank">special Tuesday XL Pizza deal</a>.</div>
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I don't know how mi cudda suh fool fool to come outta the car and lef a stranger in it. I had some silver in there, because at the court, those who play have to make up money to pay to use the lights, but I didn't have to give any that night 'cause they had already paid when I got there, plus I'd paid several times before. Why do I bring up this silver you ask?</div>
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Weeeeeeeellll, when I got home, could I find my silver? Not a blowow! I had $70 and di man tief $40! I had fallen in a big pothole, you know, <strong>the unexpected ninja type</strong>, on the way home, so I thought the coins must have been scattered because of that. I WISH! I never saw my $40 dollars again!</div>
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Now I'm sure you might be laughing and saying, "bwoy Alwayne, a jus $40 still" but I'm talking about principle! How you goin' do dat?! Suppose I had left a million in there?! (Clearly I wouldn't be so stupid, but you get the point!)</div>
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And then the best part is, of course; HIM BEG RIDE AGAIN!!! If I had the big <em>cojones </em>I woulda seh "No!", and he'd wonder why & think I'm a "fassy". Or maybe he would remember the $40... Who knows. Idk what kinda conscience he's got.</div>
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And what's the worst part? If you don't help or be kind to these people, despite them clearly taking you for granted while feeling absolutely no remorse for being the next thing to a blood sucking leech, everybody seh "A meanaz dat man!" when the half of the story has never been told. Maybe that might just be the way to go yaa man, I dunno. I suppose I should probably save myself the trouble and just seh "no" initially. Too bad, I don't have the *<em>cojones!</em></div>
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<em>*COJONES - is a Spanish word for denoting courage when used in the phrase "tener <i>cojones</i>" (equivalent to English "have the balls to") or testicles.</em></div>
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</em>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-90179575345822426012013-06-21T00:17:00.000-05:002013-06-21T00:41:03.510-05:00This Bleaching/Cream Dilemma<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14BF3eDqnirMsnmrNtUjKbg1j00ByhX9P-rQUX5WywRLFIOKf16-yOyxtlvJwk9dz35kxczDsQ-1i18wzvLtjFBCrr8Q904GzmiR3zlAJYw4pqhfr1BgR34MD0TUdRNf30T4zFpPaGOw/s1600/relaxer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14BF3eDqnirMsnmrNtUjKbg1j00ByhX9P-rQUX5WywRLFIOKf16-yOyxtlvJwk9dz35kxczDsQ-1i18wzvLtjFBCrr8Q904GzmiR3zlAJYw4pqhfr1BgR34MD0TUdRNf30T4zFpPaGOw/s200/relaxer.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>HAIR CREAM</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHhNnJRuk3Gy2X1Y3_8XUVvCv1hXF6OXV7-dRvqV788MClMD1xZXwIA0gnWlPyX_f8qLznJxwQ7V_H0iQKNtTWPxZWgY7LX5ogLCAsIJpW8TsFXhdb9WZQN05HMxkQuiLsyVHKo2v9ufc/s1600/physicians-complex-6-percent-skin-bleaching-cream.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHhNnJRuk3Gy2X1Y3_8XUVvCv1hXF6OXV7-dRvqV788MClMD1xZXwIA0gnWlPyX_f8qLznJxwQ7V_H0iQKNtTWPxZWgY7LX5ogLCAsIJpW8TsFXhdb9WZQN05HMxkQuiLsyVHKo2v9ufc/s200/physicians-complex-6-percent-skin-bleaching-cream.jpeg" width="187" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>BLEACHING CREAM (for Skin)</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">VS</span></div>
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First of all, tell me my pun wasn't clever. You know you like that! Yes, my use of "/" was intentional. We're talking about Bleaching, as in skin bleaching, and you know there's bleaching cream, <em>BUT </em>we're also talking talking about Cream, as in hair cream! Hold the applause, I know, I know, it's a such a simple pun, but its brilliant... Okay, you can applaud a little :)<br />
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But seriously, if you missed the #AllAngles special hosted by Dionne Jackson-Miller (@djmillerJA) you neeeeed to see it to get the context of the debate that has ensued since airing (June 19, 2013) on TVJ.<br />
You can watch the special here ------> <a href="http://www.televisionjamaica.com/Programmes/AllAngles.aspx/Videos/27218" target="_blank">BLEACHING SPECIAL</a><br />
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Since the airing of the programme, a fierce debate has ensued about Bleaching of the skin, versus Creaming of the hair, as now persons are saying that those who ridicule skin bleaching, need to ridicule women who relax their hair or wear weaves as well, because it's the same thing!<br />
At first, I was like "seriously? Dem really goin' come wid this?" I was having none of it. My initial comment to a post on Facebook that supported the view that bleaching (skin) and creaming (hair) is pretty much the same was this:<br />
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"Yeah u chemically changing something, but the reasons for it in some cases are different. Its not always cuz its perceived to look better, sometimes the hair is too hard to manage for some ladies. I see ur view still, but I don't think its the same. Bleaching destroys their skin, relaxing doesn't destroy the hair if cared properly. My two cents. I'm not for or against relaxing still."</blockquote>
It was soooo ironic, but this argument started on Saturday with my cousin, or some form of it, as our fam was talking about natural hair vs processed hair and this <strike>cult</strike> exodus so many girls are in right now going back to their roots. Who knew Dionne's bleaching special would bring the discussion back?<br />
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Anywho, I was greeted by the following tweet later on this morning (Jun 20, 2013) by my <a href="http://xxxneiciexxx.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">friend and blogmate Keneice</a>:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJYXTCv-trp7uUD3nyS1WanBuhowGNZHExvhLqSIbiVG5fIP9VLpCr6_OA3PluxudN4F1HWSVSqLXSoN5p31y34CLJ-uSY4_5aH5F7UCCUOTmf727pSg7nZV7NCfXFSmIXSdbcwt0wtE/s1600/WHy+cream+and+bleach+is+the+same.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJYXTCv-trp7uUD3nyS1WanBuhowGNZHExvhLqSIbiVG5fIP9VLpCr6_OA3PluxudN4F1HWSVSqLXSoN5p31y34CLJ-uSY4_5aH5F7UCCUOTmf727pSg7nZV7NCfXFSmIXSdbcwt0wtE/s400/WHy+cream+and+bleach+is+the+same.png" width="353" /></a></div>
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I read the post still, and I must say, twas a compelling argument made. You can read it here: <a href="http://kryticalmind.wordpress.com/2013/06/20/why-hair-creme-and-bleaching-cream-are-the-same/">http://kryticalmind.wordpress.com/2013/06/20/why-hair-creme-and-bleaching-cream-are-the-same/</a></div>
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No matter what argument I presented --</div>
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1) Creamed hair is easier to manage for those who can't deal with it being my main one (and not a case where the woman thinks it looks better), or saying 2) "psychological reasons behind each [differ]. Not every black woman thinks natural hair is ugly and therefore it muss cream" I was always met with a counterpoint:</div>
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Keneice - "Damage is similar; reasons behind use are similar. For every case there is an exception..few who can't manage nat hair"</div>
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The only one I think I didn't truly get a good response for was this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZm0Fn0hyphenhyphengp8ze3lctH7vlz-MRj7R8yaPup2l-WW6iE6lS0YptF_w03OL9N7bXfQ9GfaNeefDkb1axuwp16QCXICHc8oWVZ2u-TM1NHv2T6fFV6P5XunKAHqDp_oJgaty4vOzs8chbmM/s1600/bleaching+ques.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZm0Fn0hyphenhyphengp8ze3lctH7vlz-MRj7R8yaPup2l-WW6iE6lS0YptF_w03OL9N7bXfQ9GfaNeefDkb1axuwp16QCXICHc8oWVZ2u-TM1NHv2T6fFV6P5XunKAHqDp_oJgaty4vOzs8chbmM/s640/bleaching+ques.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>(Still waiting for a good answer for this from somebody!)</b></div>
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I thought about the whole thing though and I've come up with my conclusion on the whole matter:</div>
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EVERYBODY'S A HYPOCRITE. EVERY. LAST. ONE. *whispers* even me. Don't tell nobody!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtoquHFRG38ti5TGK2ifW7-uc320vaI67qIbp1enNQv1DWz6nOj5qP9EtIqH5A9kHzSQ-TKad5PhOGxbzosC7q6OnkT5S1Xx2AWd9hkFcO1SP6mEJnzaeaarcPb_VFPrS4W7fjXsu1vo/s1600/Dyed-hair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtoquHFRG38ti5TGK2ifW7-uc320vaI67qIbp1enNQv1DWz6nOj5qP9EtIqH5A9kHzSQ-TKad5PhOGxbzosC7q6OnkT5S1Xx2AWd9hkFcO1SP6mEJnzaeaarcPb_VFPrS4W7fjXsu1vo/s200/Dyed-hair.jpg" width="167" /></a>We all have our open stances to some things, and have our minds closed to others. I don't have a problem with creamed hair, but some women, mostly those from the naturalist <strike>cult</strike> movement do. But, the <i>same</i> "au naturale" girls use make up, and even dye their hair. Is that natural?<b> This is natural right? <i>Is it really natural</i>? --------------------------------------------------------------------------></b> What's the rationale for make-up? What's wrong with the normal skin colour over your eyes or on your lips? (Not bashing make-up btw, it looks nice when done right; just don't mess up my shirt when you hug me!) I know someone who died from a cancer that was caused by basically using so much hair dye, its like it became poison to his body. So shouldn't we preach against hair dye too? What about bleaching of hair?</div>
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Think about it.</div>
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Personally, I don't like bleaching of the skin--I think it makes people look worse than better, but if they think they look better, who cares about what I think? Nobody! Afta a nuh fi mi skin! A nuh me buy it gi dem. They're free to do what they want. I'm known to preach to women to keep their hair long. Why? Because I like long hair! Is something wrong with short hair? No, but it's just my preference. We all have our preferences.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEem2366q-9CEPBXYQQSK-XZikZa9ABJ_N7llrGvDP5LbnqJuWlTR5H29_MPNyoB7z01NHaYPgSo1tE2QypU_ftpROvWC3CqqyXkMxDXyRPWv2MomRAknnr_b29NQYYgJv_lfl14-epA/s1600/vybz-kartel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEem2366q-9CEPBXYQQSK-XZikZa9ABJ_N7llrGvDP5LbnqJuWlTR5H29_MPNyoB7z01NHaYPgSo1tE2QypU_ftpROvWC3CqqyXkMxDXyRPWv2MomRAknnr_b29NQYYgJv_lfl14-epA/s320/vybz-kartel.jpg" width="320" /></a>Unlike many, I didn't judge the people on the special who bleached their skin. I laughed. A WHOLE LOT! But I didn't judge them. Didn't agree with their reasoning, and I thought they needed a lot of education. But judging and condemning, I did not. To me, it should be the same reaction to with women with processed hair. These people are owners of their own selves and can do whatever they like, whether we like it or not. It's their own health and their own choices; who are we to point at them? We all have our double standards somewhere. For my personal stance on bleaching, I do cast some blame on Vybz Kartel for<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tEmtfUAnSA" target="_blank"> how he portrayed bleaching to the masses</a>. That wasn't the kind of public education we needed at all. I know it was happening before him, but you'd be pretty foolish to think he didn't have <i>any impact</i> at all on helping the practice rise to popularity. But, as Monica said last night, she [and others who practice bleaching] "PRETTY PLUS TAX!"<br />
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<a href="http://anniepaul.net/2011/01/12/the-bleaching-of-the-nation/" target="_blank">(Check out this blogpost about Kartel's impact to people bleaching)</a></div>
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For those who are against the creaming of the hair and are of the view that persons who do it are in the same category as bleachers, that's cool. To each his/her own. I don't agree, but we all think differently.<br />
This comment by someone on Facebook is pretty much the conclusion of the whole matter:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"From what I saw on tv all the bleachers said they were proud of their black skin but is a 'likkle more opportunity' or 'fashion and style' them do it fah.... Tbh [to be honest] most people who relax their hair use a similar justification system, you know 'my hair too hard fi manage' or 'a kyah brush mi have''.... They say they proud of their blackness still enuh but you know.. is just fashion and style. The effects of a relaxer are pretty damaging as well, but you know by now how to not get so damaged by it, just maybe a one and two scalp burrn here and there but ntn too much like your hair falling out or w.e<br />
Anyways its people body fi do w.e with it and they justify their decisions so it make sense to them and it shouldn't matter to anyone else"</blockquote>
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Selah.<br />
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(Leave your opinions and comments please! Oh, and SHARE! Thanks :)<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-8904781853397445212013-06-09T22:49:00.000-05:002013-06-11T14:01:02.275-05:00The Nobodiness of my Somebodiness (Edited since 1st Publication)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_me8i2BLd1Ebah0v5YRGDiZ0qlLlmzDZG3umpavRiPgM2KreuI-2lSUq7j4zA5xq5VfNavxt_vC15H1zrvjAxrk0uW_Wq9fHp7CAY8fHzA3zSLEHVa9Y6VjEJFI2dxo-4trnv-NqamvE/s1600/Victorious.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_me8i2BLd1Ebah0v5YRGDiZ0qlLlmzDZG3umpavRiPgM2KreuI-2lSUq7j4zA5xq5VfNavxt_vC15H1zrvjAxrk0uW_Wq9fHp7CAY8fHzA3zSLEHVa9Y6VjEJFI2dxo-4trnv-NqamvE/s640/Victorious.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Shari Kelly (ikon gfx)</td></tr>
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<em><strong>(Edited for Personal Reasons)</strong></em><br />
<br />
I finished my courses at Northern Caribbean University (NCU) in December 2011, and graduated the following August 2012. As I have come to learn the hard way, Mass Communication (which I studied) is a FRUSTRATINGLY DIFFICULT field to break into. If yuh neva believe seh links run the world, and you thought merit and your personal achievements would get you around; for the most part--you can forget that! ESPECIALLY FOR MASS COMM! There are exceptions of course, but Mass Comm is a very "link driven" field.<br />
<br />
Basically, I have had 3 jobs in the field so far, none lasting more than 5+ months** (WOMP!) with a few odd ones here and there.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn67SKtr6roQh9M-uejDJAxNVh9U1sPX7XlKOgzcS3hMok11lW06BcqoZXAc0JABXJ6syGTqMwGo9wtqvuI55PkgspGZeEASOLLmfnNFHOQGH9aV7moEYahGxLkfZHJ4MxSj4z2NEny4/s1600/facepalm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn67SKtr6roQh9M-uejDJAxNVh9U1sPX7XlKOgzcS3hMok11lW06BcqoZXAc0JABXJ6syGTqMwGo9wtqvuI55PkgspGZeEASOLLmfnNFHOQGH9aV7moEYahGxLkfZHJ4MxSj4z2NEny4/s1600/facepalm.png" /></a><br />
<b>**Okay, only one lasted that long :/</b><br />
<b>The others have been temp stuff... including the current one.</b><br />
<br />
*Continuing*<br />
<br />
As much as I'd love to tell you that I applied and got through for these jobs, (as glaringly short as they were) on my own merit, I can't. Each one came with me recommended by someone who knew me and what I could do, or with strings being pulled in some way or another. Now this is no knock on me, because I do my work, and damn well too, but it's proving really hard to settle somewhere. It also helps to make things worse that I've sent out so many applications and ain't nobody called me! >:(<br />
Everybody wants experienced persons in this field, and no one is willing to take a guy with only a little over year and a half's cumulative experience since leaving university, despite having worked in television and radio, which both also entailed writing. I've even done photography too!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHG4B9Bob2zU0t4rA0h_DG5YTWvEBDW2YqDnlZEkJ1G3DdE14SKES0Is7HiLG35DsmeFF2bSZy95yMmfck_ULlnTEZJeROIlVHCa-b8SqYPeY1ObvmToobM8HPgBkyRnb_cECXdlzpnw/s1600/magnus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHG4B9Bob2zU0t4rA0h_DG5YTWvEBDW2YqDnlZEkJ1G3DdE14SKES0Is7HiLG35DsmeFF2bSZy95yMmfck_ULlnTEZJeROIlVHCa-b8SqYPeY1ObvmToobM8HPgBkyRnb_cECXdlzpnw/s320/magnus.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Alan Magnus</b> - Picture from Television Jamaica's Website</td></tr>
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It's the same story all the time when it comes onto getting a permanent job. The same old people in this field who refuse to retire--<em>I love hearing him, but I'm coming for you <strong><a href="http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?authToken=xzkE&authType=name&goback=%2Enpv_56589035_*1_*1_name_xzkE_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1_*1&locale=en_US&id=56589035" target="_blank">Alan Magnus</a></strong>!</em>--are the ones getting all the jobs. Wait deh. 42YEARS and 3 months?! And him nuh move?!!!! :O :O :O<br />
WOOOOW. ANYWAY, these people just leave one job and jump into another, leaving us fresh folk on the outside looking in, lamenting about <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/06/bwooooy-i-wish-i-could-help-but-i-need.html" target="_blank">how doomed the job situations in Jamaica are</a>. But, I'm cool though, *42years... my God!* I'm doing my best wherever I go. Eventually I'll settle somewhere.. hopefully... Maybe :s<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">Kinda like Alan.</span><br />
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LOOOL (See video--completely unrelated, but funny! You'll see why it's there)</div>
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/_2z8FxcU57Y/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/_2z8FxcU57Y&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/_2z8FxcU57Y&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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Maybe, or I should say hopefully, I'll unlock my hidden entrepreneurial potential and go start a business! We'll see which one comes first, or maybe I'll do both. That's a whole lotta maybes *facepalm*<br />
<br />
So... I ask the question, what does all I've written above make me? Basically, if you simplify it down to the root; <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">I'm a NOBODY!</span></strong></div>
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BUT! Because in my mind I AM <em>somebody, </em>or you could say I'm <em>planning to be</em> somebody and I'm not satisfied to settle as a nobody, it doesn't bother me. I'm doing my best to get up the societal ladder. Soon I'll be a "Bigbody"--meetings, signing cheques, fitted clothes.... YEEEEEAAAAAH lol.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, lemme tell you a little about my nobodiness to a couple somebodies. Break out your tissue folks, it's gonna get all misty in here *sniffle* (mek sure you know the ones on <a href="http://www.mellofmjamaica.com/news/2013/04/24/updated---list---of---tissue--and--paper--towel--meeting-requirements--after--current--bureau---of---standards---sample--tests.html" target="_blank">the safe list</a> though!)<br />
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<strong><u>Time at a Particular Govt Office</u></strong><br />
<br />
Thanks to the kindness of my sister from other parents, and a dire need for someone to do part of the work she normally would while being away, I got a 6 week stint at a <em>particular government office</em> doing a little Public Relations work, which was mostly photography. If you know the name of that government minister, good for you, but, for those who don't know, I'll resist from calling his name. It does rhyme with "Merick" though...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tfkqoASnNZVeOBbByTAJCpi7TW_irAf9J5Rl0hEEq4KeRa01oeCxXF0fyiNBC5j8G-2EY2bTw6Ty_YvapaeT6JODZ_G00MzG0jlX0NEpPtAWsCznY5bXmAiBFG8OiJnP7XmU5W5REYg/s1600/DSC_0213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tfkqoASnNZVeOBbByTAJCpi7TW_irAf9J5Rl0hEEq4KeRa01oeCxXF0fyiNBC5j8G-2EY2bTw6Ty_YvapaeT6JODZ_G00MzG0jlX0NEpPtAWsCznY5bXmAiBFG8OiJnP7XmU5W5REYg/s320/DSC_0213.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my pics from Trelawny</td></tr>
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For the 5 weeks of following this minister around all over Kingston and St Andrew--and as FAAAR as<br />
Trelawny--all now di man nuh have a clue as to who mi be, <em>DESPITE </em>a formal introduction. (And if you're wondering how come I said 6 weeks above and 5 just now, I had to leave before the 6th to start working where I am now). If that man heard my name everyday, he would probably still ask who I am -__-<br />
<br />
TWICE he called me "our [the Ministry's] JIS man." Not once; but TWO TIMES!!! Even when the <em>actual </em>JIS was there, he couldn't differentiate! It was never important for him to ask me what was my name, weh mi come from, or why I was there and not my <strong>study-left</strong> sister.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<strong>Study-left": past tense of "study leave"--as in she did gone aredi</strong>. Not a real phrase? Well I'm making it so now! Not cuz I'm not <a href="http://www.ucc.edu.jm/about-us/executive-management/dr-herbert-thompson-cd" target="_blank">Dr. Herbert Thompson</a>; I can make up words too! (He made the word "nowness" around 2006; said its a noun... Meh)</blockquote>
Even though she's been there for like 2years, even fi har name him nuh memba. I guess when you reach certain levels in society, you don't have to remember anybody, since everybody knows you. That, or he's old. I won't even tell y'all the story <strike>how he woke up 8:30 for a 9 am press conference and arrived almost 10...</strike> Nope, cyaa do dat :)<br />
<br />
The worst experience however, was on a tour of the Shipping Association of Jamaica facilities, as well as the Kingston Container Terminal (KCT) and the Kingston Wharves. That day, I will <em>NEVER </em>forget.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEZs8vJAW4m1mEcLDek-qrYeUMdY9BG0OKE4QBUqM-Io8dnicR0ZLraIij0RxIu7cZt0lL8CWhRtr__guMa10CqZuAEDoTqqE4MJjZAWkbh73CnKEgc6SWGeiSPd0p8OAjfVOkaPC3No/s1600/DSC_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEZs8vJAW4m1mEcLDek-qrYeUMdY9BG0OKE4QBUqM-Io8dnicR0ZLraIij0RxIu7cZt0lL8CWhRtr__guMa10CqZuAEDoTqqE4MJjZAWkbh73CnKEgc6SWGeiSPd0p8OAjfVOkaPC3No/s320/DSC_0638.JPG" width="320" /></a>*<strong>Coincidentally, this was the same day the story I wouldn't tell you about happened</strong>*</div>
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I was initially supposed to travel to our location with one of Minister's advisors; however, due to a mix up at the Govt office's HQ, I ended up driving. By the end of the day, I realized all things really do work together for good to them that love God though. I'll get to that in a while.<br />
<br />
At the SAJ office there was a meeting, followed by a tour. I followed everyone around, snapping rapidly as a good PR person ought to do, making sure I missed nothing. Following this tour, we went on the tour of KCT. All my walking and snap-snap-snapping really worked up an appetite, and all the sitting and looking (while in a bus for part of the time) apparently got all the officials, big shots and Minister hungry too.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUXsa9akabhlgqEe3JA7LfcwMKzkIFzn9dr6QnuzXRwp3DV3tWj6MHwC8rME4-es4dKXxfnpUtxwvk2A1Y3_TGl0HSZDgoxzK048nqTQvNTpubt6J9kVEjlO2M1nRsYvvnkGmYybVLlBc/s1600/DSC_0720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUXsa9akabhlgqEe3JA7LfcwMKzkIFzn9dr6QnuzXRwp3DV3tWj6MHwC8rME4-es4dKXxfnpUtxwvk2A1Y3_TGl0HSZDgoxzK048nqTQvNTpubt6J9kVEjlO2M1nRsYvvnkGmYybVLlBc/s320/DSC_0720.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tour Guide on the tour of KCT</td></tr>
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We were taken to a designated room where some amazing looking food was lavishly laid out. Not only did it look good, but it did smell good too, and the black hole that is my stomach starting taking in the air in big gulps, in anticipation of what was to come. <em>Or so I thought. </em><br />
I watched as everybody was seated, by order of importance: big shots with big shots, medium shots with medium shots, and the smaller "pi-pies" with each other. Guess who neva get no seat?<br />
<br />
After snapping a couple pictures, none of the govt. officials, some of whom knew me by face at this point, motioned to me to get food, sit on the floor; nuttin! Everyone was busy<em> yappin', clappin', food smackin'</em> and having a <em>jolly good time</em>! It got pretty uncomfortable for me, and my belly started to let me know it was not pleased with what was going on either. Good sense prevailed and I decided I wasn't gonna stay in there are act all invisible or like part of the décor.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE13OovNCgsqr5c3bh5j0LOLJK-H8muz7_MRe4Mbv1KyVdPgZZxLMLDQP4KbN4efK6icHYuEGguByXszBkWokJbEgze7Y4mEVyWXZEkkHIe_dcsatZCCLQg6ljdW9bIZwOTWvwyhsg6d8/s1600/DSC_0799+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE13OovNCgsqr5c3bh5j0LOLJK-H8muz7_MRe4Mbv1KyVdPgZZxLMLDQP4KbN4efK6icHYuEGguByXszBkWokJbEgze7Y4mEVyWXZEkkHIe_dcsatZCCLQg6ljdW9bIZwOTWvwyhsg6d8/s320/DSC_0799+-+Copy.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
As I said earlier, it was a good thing I drove, or else I would've had to stay and wait on everyone to eat <em>and then </em>resume the second leg of the tour and wait until they were ready to leave. Orrr, maybe in true slave fashion I would eat after everyone else left. Who knows?<br />
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I was informed later on by my boss (who was always very nice to me) that I was supposed to have gotten food. Oh well.<strong> <em>It is fruitless to become lachrymose over precipitately departed lacteal fluid.</em></strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMIwUh4oLVFQg16ZcTk91mbZCAIwnW2gOey9MjnTN9voYDOdKneeSUXCIv6x8SPbLcpe_-xMBAmSEwRwEbJDUlAFKCyatpVuxbRVkfIwBk9l1HE8oL2l1hdNYrNKCckZvAgM1qHo2bFg/s1600/DSC_0800+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMIwUh4oLVFQg16ZcTk91mbZCAIwnW2gOey9MjnTN9voYDOdKneeSUXCIv6x8SPbLcpe_-xMBAmSEwRwEbJDUlAFKCyatpVuxbRVkfIwBk9l1HE8oL2l1hdNYrNKCckZvAgM1qHo2bFg/s320/DSC_0800+-+Copy.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
All those people will eventually get old and need someone to take care of them. For their sakes I hope it won't be like how they treated people like me who haven't achieved social status as yet. Imagine a former Minister of Government's caregiver waking up late, getting to him/her late, and not giving him his food on time, or any food at all. Tragic innit?<br />
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<strong><u>No Publishing if You're Not Important.</u></strong><br />
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My last grouse about being a nobody, has to do with the local Newspapers not publishing my stuff.<br />
Now if you know me, or know of me, you know <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20120806/letters/letters4.html" target="_blank">I've written</a> <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/People-Power---A-People-Powerless_14158954" target="_blank">quite a few</a> <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130425/letters/letters1.html" target="_blank">letters</a> <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/Paying-for-the-use-of-bathrooms_13543255" target="_blank">to the editor</a>. Now I'm not tryna be selfish, and I surely don't think I'm better than people, but I believe good writing should be published and published devoid of who you are. I know lots of people send letters daily, but I also know when I write something really good. I notice politicians and prominent people's letters get published a.s.a.p. in BOTH major papers with great dispatch. I'm just saying though, it feels like my stuff aren't getting published anymore because the editors may be tired of me, or because they think they've seen my name often enough and have had enough. Seems like even the rogue email I created, they somehow know is me, 'cause the 3 letters sent from it so far have been denied :/<br />
Idk why they told me to keep writing and they know they were gonna do this to me. I promise you. I haven't OD'ed with submissions! Bet if I was important they wouldn't do me that, or I would have a column by now... *sigh*<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPcxshXXojRBM1PEXSdaMiYH8LdMzY9jiFu7tpGQZAXkVmDKEDU_K1l8-gKqctBUYY5ZUOvZbt0Tp2GQNNWSkPu7alLcpeeyRFljC1VlrVPZVNcmmB2ik0VKk88bDYHSGR0TYzCIeWkU/s1600/My+Second+Letter++to+the+Editor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPcxshXXojRBM1PEXSdaMiYH8LdMzY9jiFu7tpGQZAXkVmDKEDU_K1l8-gKqctBUYY5ZUOvZbt0Tp2GQNNWSkPu7alLcpeeyRFljC1VlrVPZVNcmmB2ik0VKk88bDYHSGR0TYzCIeWkU/s640/My+Second+Letter++to+the+Editor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2nd Published letter to the Editor<br />
<a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20120219/letters/letters2.html">http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20120219/letters/letters2.html</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I love writing, and have gone as far as writing the editors about writing for the papers. The answers? No vacancy for me. I've also sent <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-hair-chronicles-chapter-one-mens.html" target="_blank">pieces I've written that weren't letters</a> that they say they would read and give me feedback but they never did. Atleast I've gotten somewhere with it thanks to persevering. I've <em>always</em> wanted to be a guest columnist, as I've been inspired by the likes of <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130526/focus/focus6.html" target="_blank">Dr. Orville Taylor</a>, <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20120613/cleisure/cleisure2.html" target="_blank">Din Duggan</a>, and <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130416/cleisure/cleisure3.html" target="_blank">Gordon Robinson</a> to name a few, but I guess the thinking is that nobody wants to hear from a 20 something year old guy who hasn't done anything with his life as yet. Nothing he writes is that interesting, even if it really is. Sometimes what the established guys write aren't that interesting either. But they've "made it" so they can write what they want.<br />
<br />
I guess it's just the system. I HATE IT.<br />
<br />
Nobody wants to give up-and-comers a chance. Well, that means only one thing. I have <em>to make them</em> remember me. Any little opportunity I get, I <strong><em>will be the best </em></strong>and I <strong><em>will do my best. </em></strong>Until then, I will never settle for being I nobody. I am already somebody. All these "other bodies" just don't know it yet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkPTdxCQiudGEHqepnqWVe0zefyPOt0IecMIyekGqvhv_509qYGpBjZNEihZhh46ZsyUaUl7YWz5cHnUVqrex6Ng5O6qRJXQbsUUCQQwGQKZJlxt3OOBbGVfDY-RBYHD2og1NPcKzVwEQ/s1600/Mi+right+inna+di+mix!+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkPTdxCQiudGEHqepnqWVe0zefyPOt0IecMIyekGqvhv_509qYGpBjZNEihZhh46ZsyUaUl7YWz5cHnUVqrex6Ng5O6qRJXQbsUUCQQwGQKZJlxt3OOBbGVfDY-RBYHD2og1NPcKzVwEQ/s1600/Mi+right+inna+di+mix!+-+Copy.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Election Coverage 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Job 14:14 - "...<span style="background-color: #fffefd; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." (KJV)</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-71206408137600545552013-06-07T00:56:00.002-05:002013-06-07T08:51:11.451-05:00The Unpublished Letter Chronicles: One USD for A Patty<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnaQ947oRLb2cheIfbBAA5ttd9cHvN17i8TRv7L43_YVZ3fFUjdwix023Kf3C3IKXAZI93gZaUW_aVQseCYjUAmh-5hrJCPfNi3vwzvJsOITUplTqdF23W-Ri15eBjIDl-A2oD9hlvF8/s1600/black_warning_sign_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><strong><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnaQ947oRLb2cheIfbBAA5ttd9cHvN17i8TRv7L43_YVZ3fFUjdwix023Kf3C3IKXAZI93gZaUW_aVQseCYjUAmh-5hrJCPfNi3vwzvJsOITUplTqdF23W-Ri15eBjIDl-A2oD9hlvF8/s320/black_warning_sign_l.jpg" width="320" /></span></strong></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">RANT AHEAD!</span></strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I swear, the newspaper opinion editors in Jamaica hate me now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That <em>MUST</em> be it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I mean...I guess it's not fair for <em>everything </em>I write to be published at the expense of other writers, since I've (so far) had 10 published letters--7 Gleaner and 3 Observer. But I mean, I think I'm a good writer and I <i>usually</i> write sense. Why is it that my stuff can't get published anymore? Good writing is good writing, doesn't matter by who, and by George I think it oughta get out there!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Anyway, since this is my little spot, I'll publish what I can publish here, hopefully the right people will see it and pass the messages along.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Below is the most recent in what I suspect will become a series of unpublished letters. *Sigh*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Like Peter Bunting, I want some <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130416/lead/lead6.html" target="_blank">Divine Intervention</a> for publishing!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*end of rant*</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">_________________________________________________________________________________</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">"</span></span><span style="line-height: 115%;">I write this
in response to an article written by Orville Taylor in the Sunday Gleaner (May
26, 2013) entitiled, </span><a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20130526/focus/focus6.html" style="line-height: 115%;" target="_blank">“What the IMF? Devaluation Again!”</a></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I wish I
could shake his hand, once for the clever pun (now popular <a href="https://www.google.com.jm/search?q=what+the+f+tweet+observer&rlz=1C1TSNP_enJM505JM505&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=jHSxUfK9C-T64APRw4AI&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAQ&biw=1366&bih=681#rlz=1C1TSNP_enJM505JM505&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=what+the+f+angela+brown+burke&oq=what+the+f+angela+brown+burke&gs_l=img.3...9429.21408.0.21767.41.31.10.0.0.0.140.2688.26j5.31.0...0.0.0..1c.1.16.img.jUYUOU98jcU&bav=on.2,or.r_cp.r_qf.&bvm=bv.47534661,d.dmg&fp=756dbbe581481325&biw=1366&bih=681&facrc=_&imgrc=yNlGKwR4FdOeWM%3A%3B9Q2hjqsn0EYu4M%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fgojamaica.net%252Fnews%252Farticleimages%252F2013%252F44573angela_tweet.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fjamaica-gleaner.com%252Flatest%252Farticle.php%253Fid%253D44573%3B460%3B345" target="_blank">thanks to the KSACMayor</a>) and twice for his sound and data laden analysis of the crisis our
“little isle in the sun” finds itself in once more.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZQxIXo515jXBQKhPsS71U9U2v3jJB4CJurjMKRyrYJDwACSY8qhpsd9ZNgJ4Hz4_GZieBJurbTWCEWscFw9DR2-TzUmMZS_ulNAq58F5yDykAUK8nClKY6zLtlSgAKfGmikhbL5cVH0/s1600/Clovistoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZQxIXo515jXBQKhPsS71U9U2v3jJB4CJurjMKRyrYJDwACSY8qhpsd9ZNgJ4Hz4_GZieBJurbTWCEWscFw9DR2-TzUmMZS_ulNAq58F5yDykAUK8nClKY6zLtlSgAKfGmikhbL5cVH0/s320/Clovistoon.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Photo Courtesy of Clovis Toons/Jamaica Observer</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I’m not surprised,
that as soon as the IMF taskmasters said our dollar is overvalued, it has
started inching back to the $100 benchmark, since stabilizing somewhat and coming
down from that peak only a few months ago. It appears as if the IMF and our
country has a relationship that if the Fund says “Jump!” our financial
technocrats in government quickly ask “How high?” without even a passing
thought.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">IMF is just like other businesses<span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">In my view,
the IMF is simply doing to us, what most if not all businesses do; seeking ways in
which it can improve itself and make more money, unfortunately, at the peril of
other businesses or individuals. As Dr. Taylor clearly outlines, there is no
direct correlation to Jamaica doing better economically with the depreciation
of our dollar. Obviously it has gotten worse!<span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">1990s</span></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPt3Qcxj55QhXHbYYZLS30ha3ay_v1zJA0unay1q02fItrBPxTmyyCGGhvddMxe4vvF6kGhwV7Otq0FxHwx8JV1K4jymGjYOAHp6bI_-uPI94bKZ9alaabZGp2zhvvvV2ZoBukTOYthB0/s1600/MothersPattyA20110415C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPt3Qcxj55QhXHbYYZLS30ha3ay_v1zJA0unay1q02fItrBPxTmyyCGGhvddMxe4vvF6kGhwV7Otq0FxHwx8JV1K4jymGjYOAHp6bI_-uPI94bKZ9alaabZGp2zhvvvV2ZoBukTOYthB0/s200/MothersPattyA20110415C.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One Jamaican Patty</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRipaihWF7Jy3ooZgwxgPal_SNcGKamaX85oN0vpwQxjbmggQt4k-TvK4_NmkP_venWdmRgveyKZIcncWXN2L_i7yzvQ9dYJHwfzlZXlcj3fIulpBbeYNcumVZb_vzRvDN9YZMmGIbRKU/s200/One_US_dollar_note_0127_22.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One US Dollar</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"> <b>=</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">It almost
seems as if the price of patties and the exchange rate are related. I remember
as a boy in the 90’s when the exchange rate was about $30JMD - $1USD and that
could buy a patty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>2013</b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRipaihWF7Jy3ooZgwxgPal_SNcGKamaX85oN0vpwQxjbmggQt4k-TvK4_NmkP_venWdmRgveyKZIcncWXN2L_i7yzvQ9dYJHwfzlZXlcj3fIulpBbeYNcumVZb_vzRvDN9YZMmGIbRKU/s1600/One_US_dollar_note_0127_22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRipaihWF7Jy3ooZgwxgPal_SNcGKamaX85oN0vpwQxjbmggQt4k-TvK4_NmkP_venWdmRgveyKZIcncWXN2L_i7yzvQ9dYJHwfzlZXlcj3fIulpBbeYNcumVZb_vzRvDN9YZMmGIbRKU/s200/One_US_dollar_note_0127_22.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTe4p8iwdbQi7_XwU4Gmd1Ak5mJ07Dnjb62nbxhWbwjajvSKyq7-r9g9pu-7D4itoGZMFqQL3Eix603aLufoFvz4u5PKRSSai_s4QNlYNVp8SrF_3NJ_byaQfdesc6nreo3e31-QHHQN4/s1600/jamaican_beef_patties_eating.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTe4p8iwdbQi7_XwU4Gmd1Ak5mJ07Dnjb62nbxhWbwjajvSKyq7-r9g9pu-7D4itoGZMFqQL3Eix603aLufoFvz4u5PKRSSai_s4QNlYNVp8SrF_3NJ_byaQfdesc6nreo3e31-QHHQN4/s1600/jamaican_beef_patties_eating.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>=</b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 115%;">Now, since the depreciation of our dollar, $1USD can’t even
buy a patty anymore! Exactly how will the depreciation help us? Don’t worry…
I’ll wait…</span></div>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">PRECISELY.
It won’t. In my opinion, the IMF is only scheming how it will make more money.
If our dollar depreciates, the more money we will have to fork over in the
future when re-payment of the loan becomes due.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><b>"</b></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 18px;">We can't let them do this to the patties!!! Well... to the people, but saying that just shows how important patties are! They're probably the easiest fast food to buy without having to reach too far into our pockets. If that continues to change and gets more expensive, how would we cope? :'(</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 18px;">I seriously think we should <a href="http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20121010/lead/lead1.html" target="_blank">listen to former Prime Minister Edward Seaga</a>'s suggestion. We ought to do what's best for us; for Jamaica, and <i>NOT </i>what is in the best interest of the IMF!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 18px;">Do it for the children Minister Phillips. And don't forget the patties :)</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-67597638009086589522013-06-05T16:09:00.003-05:002013-06-05T16:30:07.799-05:00Bwooooy... I wish I could help... but... I need help myself.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmRth8wP0zkKHt_x73EIHwR69pk6Izma_pNekppYFCVKDo5CLmTj5M3GQrnzJmWz0lPQYW4Rw9OKiRNOBzbRRQ8o4K9LhkGpiLdK-OU4Ign1Y8mLvj8ZkXPFSIuBJphZah4tDF8MjN7w/s1600/photodune-1540888-help-needed-s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmRth8wP0zkKHt_x73EIHwR69pk6Izma_pNekppYFCVKDo5CLmTj5M3GQrnzJmWz0lPQYW4Rw9OKiRNOBzbRRQ8o4K9LhkGpiLdK-OU4Ign1Y8mLvj8ZkXPFSIuBJphZah4tDF8MjN7w/s400/photodune-1540888-help-needed-s.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Today a gentleman came to drop off a resume. He had just gotten an envelope to enclose the document. He asked me very respectfully to whom he should address the letter. I told him the Human Resource Department. My heart sank when I saw him transcribe:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"<strong>Human Resorce Manadgement</strong>"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I corrected the "Resource" but I never had the heart to say anything more as I watched him misspell 'management'. I told him to write his name at the top of the envelope. My heart sank again as he wrote it above the "Human Resource Manadgement", as if it was addressed to him, instead of in the top right corner.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Then, the imaginary anvil you always saw in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1L16Ztul3No" target="_blank">Tom & Jerry</a> or Sylvester & Tweety fell on me. After handing me the letter he leaned forward and said: "Mi boss mi nuh really know yuh still, but mi a beg yuh fi jus help me out. Mi a come from Bull Bay and mi need a work bad bad. Mi need fi tek care a mi wife an' mi daughta, jus see wah yuh can do fi mi." I nodded, but it felt like a lie, because I knew:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
1.<strong> I'm a temp</strong>--I've got very little to no say in matters outside of the tasks I'm assigned.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
2. It would only go in the box with the rest of mail to be circulated in the building with no special recommendation, and I receive several emails daily with resumes and applications that I simply forward to Human Resource. He asked me to look over his resume if it was okay, and I did. He had training as a welder, but I had no clue if we needed any of those here.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyjRxFohL7rZC4wTmspiSRzZN1xC-rXx36Ic713pTf5bi73Au78Z5xf9zZQVNmgsk7zbyRwD0hrxFSmcWRMj5gIDyZt604mkzeHg40HvzvwSzoR3_Qa2IyA0EI-E_vCpVlpxLpsJmQfE/s1600/flat,550x550,075,f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyjRxFohL7rZC4wTmspiSRzZN1xC-rXx36Ic713pTf5bi73Au78Z5xf9zZQVNmgsk7zbyRwD0hrxFSmcWRMj5gIDyZt604mkzeHg40HvzvwSzoR3_Qa2IyA0EI-E_vCpVlpxLpsJmQfE/s320/flat,550x550,075,f.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The more I heard, my heart sank lower and lower...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
He went on to add: "a walk mi aguh walk off mi shoes todeh a drop off resume, cause a mi laas fare mi tek an' come from Bull Bay." Cue heart sink #3.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I felt <em>sooooo</em> bad, not only because the man's situation was so dire and desperate, but also because here I was, only <em>slightly </em>better off than he. I wish I could've done something. But alas, I don't wield that kind of power yet. What was I to do? Go upstairs and share his story? I didn't even know his name. What would've happened if I did? I'd probably be given a good once over and ignored; after all, is not like I knew the man to recommend him personally.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The job situation is really looking hopeless in Jamaica. So many of my friends are unemployed, but at least they aren't married, with families and those kinds of situations, and some still live at home.<br />
I know about having my resume aimlessly passed around, bearing no fruit, and trust me; it nuh feel nice.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Yes, I'm a temp right now, but I'm soooo thankful. It helps that I still live with my family, because otherwise I couldn't survive... That and I'm really not trying to pay rent when I can just give my parents a little support and live (relatively) free!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There are MANY more people like that man who came to me today. I only hope that soon I may be in a position to help.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-21299989129960404242013-05-19T20:17:00.000-05:002013-05-19T20:17:58.853-05:00Inside My Road Rage: Part 3 -- Coasters and Mini Buses! >:S<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXMTIeqhS6c1_kAJSaBMr2_KQlGPI1y9InMuTZl_i_D3DX6w1P4EhfWs_SuZMZa4fKwp5D4OVf-uKZ3jyO-EEHNwvrgp2K40XBJIcqU6PNfwd43QhukA53nOgoqxKQ7B-KUkT1Z2_A4uo/s1600/imagesCAL5LUTH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXMTIeqhS6c1_kAJSaBMr2_KQlGPI1y9InMuTZl_i_D3DX6w1P4EhfWs_SuZMZa4fKwp5D4OVf-uKZ3jyO-EEHNwvrgp2K40XBJIcqU6PNfwd43QhukA53nOgoqxKQ7B-KUkT1Z2_A4uo/s1600/imagesCAL5LUTH.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I want one NOOOW!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So you now know of my <a href="http://thealwayneallen.blogspot.com/2013/05/inside-my-road-rage-alwayne-driver.html" target="_blank">mild road rage</a> while driving and my desire to <strike>destroy all nuisances</strike> see improvements by other drivers and pedestrians on the road. While I'm working on getting my Monster Truck and plotting how to graze a few people and not get caught, I'll tell you about my anger regarding Public Transportation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The following is an unpublished letter to the editor I wrote:</span><br />
<span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: #ffd966;">While travelling in a coaster bus, the thought came to me, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fived up again</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">These bus operators are so hypocritical!”</i> There I was sitting
amidst four other persons, in a row that was made for only 4 <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="text-transform: uppercase;">total
</span></b>persons. Being 6’3” certainly didn’t help my predicament either.</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">[Also of note would be the fact that I wasn't Japanese :S]</span></blockquote>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="line-height: 115%;">
</span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<br />
<div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: #ffd966;">Only the day before (May 1, 2013) the bus operators were striking because
they said the island’s regulator of public passenger transport, The Transport</span>
<span style="background-color: #ffd966;">Authority, was only allowing them to take 22 persons, when their vehicles were
licenced to carry 29. Yet here I was, as</span><span style="background-color: #ffd966;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ffd966;">usual, in a bus with about 42 people,
with 5 on the rows and about 10 standing near the door.</span></span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZeD3u22u1fjvc2d7mM3z8Y9YKk7wdWpApKA9GhT-A3dKrJboPKlrQtCnbHC8VgJgHRsw-qmqWh5TXrq795Tvz-9iBjRHHy2YIsZ9RhhXJ-LzWzuTUog7Qqy0DyO4fejckn2tA8xN08ok/s1600/IMG-20130507-00746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZeD3u22u1fjvc2d7mM3z8Y9YKk7wdWpApKA9GhT-A3dKrJboPKlrQtCnbHC8VgJgHRsw-qmqWh5TXrq795Tvz-9iBjRHHy2YIsZ9RhhXJ-LzWzuTUog7Qqy0DyO4fejckn2tA8xN08ok/s320/IMG-20130507-00746.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">May 7, 2013 (BB Pic; sitting on the back row)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</blockquote>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: #ffd966;">Why in God’s name are these operators so wicked and greedy? Yes they
provide a much needed service to the public, but why must commuters suffer</span> <span style="background-color: #ffd966;">and
endure discomfort for them to make extra money? Then, when the law is enforced
they complain and strike, as if they were compliant in the first place!</span> <span style="background-color: #ffd966;">Disgusting!
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Might as well let them strike and let
people use only JUTC buses and taxis,</i>” I thought, but then I remembered
these alternatives aren’t readily accessible or always convenient to all.</span></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="background-color: #ffd966; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="line-height: 115%;"></span></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: #ffd966;">A friend said we as commuters are to be blamed—it is true to an extent,
but I don’t totally agree. If people oppose the bus operators’ biddings, they
are usually extricated from the buses; and when they are thrown off by the
conductors, even if they report these occurrences to the Transport Authority, upon
investigation the operators will vehemently deny knowledge of any such thing
and perhaps get off <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGrXFVctCGui3TqZY1jWxxYIPnc2Ey0gUFG4QDtAQIeNP767_UEDnau-034g1qgAomKLx6GE1xnHVqMoTjK5fi7v613QZPj0KqM-JdOu5k9MLNijNcm8UQMo1wUUIbXNkq1MjD2iTRXQ/s1600/IMG-20130508-00747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGrXFVctCGui3TqZY1jWxxYIPnc2Ey0gUFG4QDtAQIeNP767_UEDnau-034g1qgAomKLx6GE1xnHVqMoTjK5fi7v613QZPj0KqM-JdOu5k9MLNijNcm8UQMo1wUUIbXNkq1MjD2iTRXQ/s320/IMG-20130508-00747.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The very next day on the other side, May 8, 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
with only a warning.</span></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="line-height: 115%;">
</span></span>
<div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The bible says in <span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+7%3A5&version=ESV"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Matthew 7:5</span></a></span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN">— </span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“</span><span lang="EN-CARRIBEAN" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">You hypocrite, first take the log out of your
own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's
eye”.</span></span></blockquote>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #ffd966;">These bus operators need to consider their ways.</span> </span></blockquote>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>YOU KNOW seh it serious when I an I draw fi a bible text!</i></b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><br />
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSElVDXsemFtdCvR0c_0nrDGpEE_xlvcVEj-HPcC7Zz6rQiwRNqlWkAA9UcAW0wYc-gRI5A-QTy_7l9vwvEgdE0vkmMLGd0yIeEpFnSvsS9p00bq8TG6fvZ7QAf0Jc9XBUcquKAhDCEM/s1600/middle_passage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSElVDXsemFtdCvR0c_0nrDGpEE_xlvcVEj-HPcC7Zz6rQiwRNqlWkAA9UcAW0wYc-gRI5A-QTy_7l9vwvEgdE0vkmMLGd0yIeEpFnSvsS9p00bq8TG6fvZ7QAf0Jc9XBUcquKAhDCEM/s320/middle_passage.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Back then, the white slave masters packed our ancestors like</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>like sardines on ships during the middle passage as you'll</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>see when you read my friend's letter, and as you should've</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>known from high school history class. Now, conductors have</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>reinvented the practice, albeit on a smaller scale.</b></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My friend who I was talking to wrote a ------> <a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/One-stop--driver_14101156" target="_blank">brilliant piece</a> on what she likens traveling on the bus to be.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
I would get mad and cuss and gwaan bad, but due to how <a href="http://xxxneiciexxx.blogspot.com/2013/04/popcorn-please-movie-in-progress.html" target="_blank">Keneice alluded</a> that most people will just watch and offer no support, mi will gwaan deal wid it, ensuring that I get my seat early, even if it means walking halfway to Portmore to get it! After all, gas just too expensive to drive everyday (without a full time job). Naa tek no stab up from no unruly conductor. I will squeeze up until I can afford not to. Or until I get fed up and just go beserk.<br />
<br />
Just like THIS ------> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p7I_-U_obGQ" target="_blank">BESERK!</a><br />
<br />
LMAO (I know you did too if you watched it.)<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/kbRYTLzkd04?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I DON'T wanna be the girl the video above happened to!</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-44935433994061467812013-05-17T11:32:00.001-05:002013-05-17T11:36:33.400-05:00My Good Samaritan Experience :)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTaDjqGfHRsysi58l49AfOmZuTI8qBNzpHw28ecLmJ8_V_CvkYfq0BnRvrDN0JoeUvKPtISYrNtS3MLOmQiodh-51dHeZYXfzdUDbADLcSs_6_uOeYHGprXr9Rb9BRb6uLv0r4Cr4lSw/s1600/good-samaritan-came-to-him.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTaDjqGfHRsysi58l49AfOmZuTI8qBNzpHw28ecLmJ8_V_CvkYfq0BnRvrDN0JoeUvKPtISYrNtS3MLOmQiodh-51dHeZYXfzdUDbADLcSs_6_uOeYHGprXr9Rb9BRb6uLv0r4Cr4lSw/s320/good-samaritan-came-to-him.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ageless story of the <strong>Good Samaritan</strong> found in the Bible<br />
<strong>Luke 10:25-37</strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We all know, or have heard at some time or another the story of the <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+10%3A25-37&version=NIV" target="_blank">"Good Samaritan"</a>.<br />
In a nutshell (and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parable_of_the_Good_Samaritan" target="_blank">Wikipedia expounds on it here)</a>, a man got beaten and robbed by thieves and was left for dead. He was a Jew.<br />
<br />
Now, two people who should've helped; one a Jewish Rabbi and the other a Priest, simply ignored him. The important context of this story is that Jews and Samaritans were enemies, as Jews saw the Samaritans as scum basically, and looked down upon them. You can remember the story of the <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+4&version=NIV" target="_blank"><em>Woman at the Well</em></a><em> </em>as she asked Jesus "how is it that you a Jew are talking to <em>me </em>a Samaritan?"<br />
<br />
But, as the name of the Parable suggests, a Good Samaritan was the one who stopped to check out this badly injured man and lent a helping hand. Matter of fact, he did way more. He took him to safety, <em>and </em>paid someone to tend to the man. That's love; that's being like Jesus.<br />
<br />
<strong>Now to my story.</strong><br />
<br />
On my way to work today (May 17, 2013), I was properly late; as Chan, my sister, had to go into town for her CSEC exam but wasn't feeling well, so le parents went ahead to work and such, and I had to wait on her to take her into town. On the way, I witnessed something horrific.<br />
I was on the Portmore toll road when I saw it. One four wheeled metal composite smashed into another, causing one to make a complete 180 degree turn, which left it facing the opposite direction of all the other 4 wheeled composites heading that way. Yes, I could've said "cars" but that's too easy.<br />
<br />
I exclaimed "My God! Chan you si dat! I just saw it happen enuh!" and right away I was very concerned. Upon reaching the site of the accident, I realized the woman who ran into the back of the man's vehicle (which I came to understand was either parked or had come to a complete stop--which I'm guessing the lady didn't notice and thus the accident), she was okay; airbags and all. But the man? He was not moving. I don't know if it was curiosity or an insatious desire to be helpful, but despite being extremely late, I pulled over, put on my hazard lights and jumped out of the car.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPMw_YMa63UBanpIlCaop4AAioMoJbR5HDk2WoYCFWmVmHPOxQ0ejFZLjrKWfMn1MyZIQxsiIYtjvU-10zjUYgliUur6v71AG9VwUx96fCKaaN30RrPz3-Drv5sEalOmGyU7gbFUBCkI/s1600/wrinkled_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPMw_YMa63UBanpIlCaop4AAioMoJbR5HDk2WoYCFWmVmHPOxQ0ejFZLjrKWfMn1MyZIQxsiIYtjvU-10zjUYgliUur6v71AG9VwUx96fCKaaN30RrPz3-Drv5sEalOmGyU7gbFUBCkI/s200/wrinkled_3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
In retrospect I wish I took a picture so you could see how bad it was, but in the moment, pictures were the furthest thing on my mind. Oh, I found one online -----------------------------><br />
<br />
Yeah, that bad. I'm pretty sure both cars were totaled.<br />
<br />
Anywho, the lady climbed out of her car quite alright, and some other men who had also stopped, looked at him and said "him dead man, him dead."<br />
I couldn't believe it! I refused to! I went right up and looked at him, and his head was twitching, but his body looked limp. I <em>almost </em>thought he was dead, but then my gaze fell to his abdomen. <em>Up. Down. Up. Down. </em>Slowly but surely, as his stomach rose and fell, I was relieved to see he was alive. I said "No man! Him nuh dead!" and proceeded to show the others that he was breathing. I told him "Hold on man! Hold on! You're gonna be okay! Stay with us!" I whipped out my phone and called 119 and told them the location of the accident and asked for an ambulance. Luckily we had passed a police car moments before so they were on the scene quickly. The men proceeded to help the man--who was shocked out of his life, but moving at this point--out of the car. They laid him out on the road and tried to keep him still. I think he should live; at least I hope he does, even if he has back pain for the rest of his life.<br />
<br />
Why tell you this story? Well, I'm proud of me. Proud of the fact that even though I was late for work, I stopped and I did something to help. How many times do we see stuff happen to people, and all we can say is "OH MY GOD!" with mouths agape--but nothing more? How many of us give the iconic line in some situations "I'll pray for you!" when if we looked into ourselves we'd see that we could do soooo much more than just pray?<br />
I digress; sometimes it's not always possible to stop and help, but for the times when we can, how often do we? How many of us would just be like the Priest and Rabbi and continue on our way to work? Probably we'd pop out our camera phones and start taking pics and recording.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRM4NKuhbBCfKLL95AY09zqW3RmTLrDUfOqCmY1ZQuV-s3COv8CkpIrvHYBaK7ypfuTdNn2Uw-b-55OmOU3lLzZ43C_70zgwUpOVHF_hLcAQVzeXnBH25j1LbMNw62brR13y_OTq9Tgk/s1600/r-wade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRM4NKuhbBCfKLL95AY09zqW3RmTLrDUfOqCmY1ZQuV-s3COv8CkpIrvHYBaK7ypfuTdNn2Uw-b-55OmOU3lLzZ43C_70zgwUpOVHF_hLcAQVzeXnBH25j1LbMNw62brR13y_OTq9Tgk/s320/r-wade.jpg" width="320" /></a>I remember this scenario in my Broadcast Management Class at Northern Caribbean University. <br />
One of the best lecturers in my opinion, Mr. Rowan Wade, raised the question: as a media practitioner, at the scene of an accident, what would we do first? Start writing a story or shooting footage? Or would we help first? I think back then I said I would help then do my story. I think it's a question of your personal ethics. I can't answer for anyone or tell you what to do. Can't fault anyone for their choice. You do what you gotta or what you wanna do.<br />
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On this day, I was already late for work, so it couldn't be any worse to stop and help. I'm so glad I did. Maybe God allowed me to be late for this reason. I hope the man is okay. Even if (God forbid) he isn't, I can be at peace with myself for trying to do something meaningful for him. Think I've truly found <strong><em>my</em></strong> answer to the question of our personal ethics. After all, we are supposed to be our brother's (or sister's) keeper.<br />
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To whom can you be a Good Samaritan today?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-60323660879540993992013-05-16T18:32:00.000-05:002013-05-21T17:31:05.574-05:00Inside My Road Rage: Part 2 -- When it Rains >:@<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnaQ947oRLb2cheIfbBAA5ttd9cHvN17i8TRv7L43_YVZ3fFUjdwix023Kf3C3IKXAZI93gZaUW_aVQseCYjUAmh-5hrJCPfNi3vwzvJsOITUplTqdF23W-Ri15eBjIDl-A2oD9hlvF8/s1600/black_warning_sign_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnaQ947oRLb2cheIfbBAA5ttd9cHvN17i8TRv7L43_YVZ3fFUjdwix023Kf3C3IKXAZI93gZaUW_aVQseCYjUAmh-5hrJCPfNi3vwzvJsOITUplTqdF23W-Ri15eBjIDl-A2oD9hlvF8/s400/black_warning_sign_l.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">**** RANT AHEAD***</span></strong></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGubpoXNRaDOeIPqnyT7AVyohfu5KhpkIiGsS_rxUA1_JufVEfpfl0udBgQOlmgj1Zs5sYOgdS03KfOP9hOoWa674ILj1nu4OqCaHxPiBP2K1PQTO1pX5T0EnoraInkyTJxAS7hIJk7M/s1600/rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGubpoXNRaDOeIPqnyT7AVyohfu5KhpkIiGsS_rxUA1_JufVEfpfl0udBgQOlmgj1Zs5sYOgdS03KfOP9hOoWa674ILj1nu4OqCaHxPiBP2K1PQTO1pX5T0EnoraInkyTJxAS7hIJk7M/s320/rain.jpg" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a>I hate when it rains. Period. It's always so inconvenient. The only time I allow myself to appreciate it is if I'm at home, (preferably in a zinc house) about to go to bed and I'm hearing the heavy drops of water pound on the sheets of metal, creating that oh-so-loud yet oh-so-soothing sound that just makes me just... makes me... make... m...<br />
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<strong>*Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*</strong></div>
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Huh... Oh yes, my rant *stretches*.<br />
But yeah, due to how I'm unmarried, not a plant, nor the Sahara desert, I really don't enjoy the rain. And yes, rain is for married people! Yuh cyaa tell me nuttin. It (rain, <em>not </em>the married people thing!) always happens when I need to go somewhere, I waa play ball, or some outside-ish activity. Just cyaa deal wid it! But you know when it's the worst? While walking on the road. That s#!+ ain't cool. <br />
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<strong><em>AT. ALL.</em></strong></div>
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Now I truly understand the wrath of a ghetto man or woman who flings a big stone in s'mady's windshield after being splashed. It's not a smart thing to do, as in this day and age you don't know who will come out of their vehicle and just pop a cap in your @$$ and go back in the vehicle and drive off like nothing happened. But I understand, and t'were it not for the grace of God <em>*hallelu*</em>, I SWEAR. I wudda mash up a man windshield tideh!!! (Today, May 16, 2013)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-S1yxh9_nBsfWMxf0VqCwNMItQBHTlBGVYkHQJbLmH3ErBGJpEeRPCQe-2OzMz9jITE0V85d8plmVeknIDRNkpAHHzerwNaJCZIBoDLYAc6ZS-sNhpgC_hmITjurHuhUJ5BjwBEGRYg/s1600/IMG-20130516-00752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-S1yxh9_nBsfWMxf0VqCwNMItQBHTlBGVYkHQJbLmH3ErBGJpEeRPCQe-2OzMz9jITE0V85d8plmVeknIDRNkpAHHzerwNaJCZIBoDLYAc6ZS-sNhpgC_hmITjurHuhUJ5BjwBEGRYg/s320/IMG-20130516-00752.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The image to the left is nothing like how the road usually looks on Maxfield Ave. or Hagley Park Road when it rains in Kingston, but you can clearly see the water near the sidewalk.<br />
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WHY THE HELL PEOPLE FEEL SEH DEM MUSS DRIVE FAAS WHEN WATA DEH PAN DI ROAD AND DEM SI PEOPLE A WALK?!<br />
ARE YOU GUYS INVITING US TO HAVE TARGET PRACTICE OR TEST THE ACCURACY OF OUR ARMS WITH YOUR WINDSHIELDS?! IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, IT'S A <strong><em>DAMN. BIG. TARGET!!!</em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
JEEEEEZ! Now I'm not a violent person, and anyone who knows me can vouch for that. I'm not "ignorant", nor do I "get ignorant" on people, and I'm not a supporter of using force to get things accomplished. But the good Lord saw and knew today, that at approximately 3:20P.M. on my way to the Ministry of Transport, Works and Housing, when dat EEEEEEEEDIIIIIAAAAAATTTT driving that white cyaar wet up mi good, good pants, (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6QZkAgHn6Q" target="_blank">thank God for little mercies</a>; it was just my pants--but still), I REALLY WISH I had a big stone to fling. If I could have one ignorant moment, that would be it. I would fling my shoulder outta socket to mek sure the windshield buss. And then the man have the <em>NERVE </em>to be looking around at me--I had stopped in my tracks with a pissed off look on my face--with not even a forced apology. He just looked for a while, and drove off. Bet if a half a brick was hurled it wouldn't guh suh.<br />
Merely seconds after, another car zipped past, this time dousing a bicycle man that was going along his way. Fortunately for <em>somebody--</em>not sure which one<em>--</em>there were no stones around and a police vehicle drove past in the same instant, so he perhaps resorted to 7 kinds of clarts.<br />
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It's not rocket science. The roads are wet, so people ought to drive with more caution, and look out for persons who weren't gifted with 4-wheeled protection from the elements. Thank God for that one dude who slowed down... or maybe it was 'cause he was approaching a stoplight. I dunno. This is not America though. Splashing someone with dirty water from the roads ain't no peccadilloes! A simple *insert nerdy white voice here* "WTF man?" with mouth agape will not do. These drivers better not try that mess in the ghetto. They'll just hear glass shatter and wonder who or what the hell hit them. I've certainly learned my lesson. I will walk with a large earthen piece of material clearly displayed in my hand next time.<br />
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<img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNs2zAV0zwXxgeX9WinAeJ0R-Md7Zq4gT08oI4gPunXTd9A3CjYkfHz419ixdkq0CQq8TDUXplI2QchHEQwOcx_CIK_YVsk_TGrvbwrhAYqx5mOMaHxygymIv8-bG-drWC3XikWfDVWBc/s400/Tweet.png" width="400" /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-23935994308013533562013-05-14T21:55:00.001-05:002013-05-17T09:14:15.426-05:00Inside My Road Rage - Alwayne: The Driver<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWFTKstKsOcQBFAFoR-cVk6y0m0Onb1GjwgOgAVwGRxJN1zH5-t-hJDxPN5M_FU9Wz8fAn_oAVvlrqiLijpL5sKeB71BZznNyBh3_joOozRCR2XByijcy9eLG5iHZ_bVigekWomtHsbU/s1600/DSCF1042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWFTKstKsOcQBFAFoR-cVk6y0m0Onb1GjwgOgAVwGRxJN1zH5-t-hJDxPN5M_FU9Wz8fAn_oAVvlrqiLijpL5sKeB71BZznNyBh3_joOozRCR2XByijcy9eLG5iHZ_bVigekWomtHsbU/s320/DSCF1042.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I'd say I'm a <em>fairly </em><strike>green</strike> fresh driver. I've been driving without being in daddy's or mommy's lap for about a cumulative total of 1 and 3/4 years.**<br />
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<em>**I'm not even gonna pay you any attention if you're wondering if I was sitting in their laps for all the time I was at my current size before I started driving in the big boy seat all by my lonesome. If the thought even crossed your mind, kindly slap yourself. Thank you.</em><br />
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Anywhoooo. I've always prided myself in being a <em>very </em>careful driver. I'm sure my friends will vouch for me. I'm so careful, my parents allowed me to drive to Mandeville from Kingston on my learner's! \o/ (and yes, I had licenced company--I ain't tryna be a law breaker).<br />
My company; my shorter (but older and wiser) sister by another mother--and this may be a compliment and a small insult to me as a man in the same breath--described my driving as a MAN: "He doesn't drive fast, but he doesn't drive slow either."<br />
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What the hell? Who wants to drive <em>JUST RIGHT?</em> I'm a man! Man fi drive faaaaaaasss!!!<br />
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! You believe me? *sigh*--you probably shouldn't :/<br />
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It's probably true though, I'm pretty cautious and law abiding. So much so, I don't have a story of how I stole the car and went to Burger King while my parents slept. And mommy, if you're reading this blog (as I recently learned you do!) you know seh I would never do that! :D<br />
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<strong>:( Mi lame nuh true?</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn67SKtr6roQh9M-uejDJAxNVh9U1sPX7XlKOgzcS3hMok11lW06BcqoZXAc0JABXJ6syGTqMwGo9wtqvuI55PkgspGZeEASOLLmfnNFHOQGH9aV7moEYahGxLkfZHJ4MxSj4z2NEny4/s1600/facepalm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn67SKtr6roQh9M-uejDJAxNVh9U1sPX7XlKOgzcS3hMok11lW06BcqoZXAc0JABXJ6syGTqMwGo9wtqvuI55PkgspGZeEASOLLmfnNFHOQGH9aV7moEYahGxLkfZHJ4MxSj4z2NEny4/s1600/facepalm.png" /></a></div>
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I have however gotten 3 tickets... already. Yes. ALL UNWARRANTED. 2 of them because I was black (this is my story and I'm sticking to it!), and the other because I was a rookie driver.<br />
Twas just my luck, the VERY DAY after getting my licence, after driving from Portmore to St. Mary and back, I was <em>literally </em>30 seconds away from home and some crosses police pulled me over. Perhaps it was because the "L" was still on the car and they saw 4 persons in it and thought they could catch a big break with an unlicenced driver. That wasn't the case. However, before being pulled over, I made a turn at the stoplight on amber, so upon realizing I had a day old licence, they accused me of breaking the red light and gave me a ticket for $4000 JMD. I know I didn't do it, but I didn't even have the will to argue as I was upset from earlier because:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KtVxLx10O2nQHIC3JTsxOuVxrUrMtSaUYtDDG6Rdky1qmq5qPtnzu1uT4m63WVMw8LfeOTvWT1h2BPgoJUTKQKVeSNTlkMGvgWzy8tnLQUY62apUOPJXKewKro3qc6xvXMhm3YIkg58/s1600/IMG-20130514-00750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KtVxLx10O2nQHIC3JTsxOuVxrUrMtSaUYtDDG6Rdky1qmq5qPtnzu1uT4m63WVMw8LfeOTvWT1h2BPgoJUTKQKVeSNTlkMGvgWzy8tnLQUY62apUOPJXKewKro3qc6xvXMhm3YIkg58/s320/IMG-20130514-00750.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Ticket numero uno</b></td></tr>
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1. I was supposed to play ball and when I got to Andrews, the rim did bruck<br />
2. Some idiot stopped suddenly on the little strip of road connecting Mandela Highway to Portmore and if I wasn't sharp I would have surely had my 1st fender bender.<br />
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PLUS, I was tired from driving and I just wanted to go home. I planned to go to court, but then I decided at the last minute to go abroad, and everybody I told said it would be my word against the police's, so I just paid it.<br />
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The other incident, a rich looking white man driving a 2012 Benz (in 2012) ran into the back of my cousin's Acura that I was driving in New Jersey on I-78, minutes away from the Newark airport where I was gonna pick him up. <em>Why these things be happening when I almost reach where I going?! </em>To cut a long story short, the police gave me, MEEEE! not one but TWO tickets, for <strong>"unsafe lane change"</strong> and <strong>"driving without a licence"</strong> (which was in his hand) and he did <em>not</em> witness the accident. I won't even talk bout how he towed the car and then dropped me off on a street corner in some place I didn't know and left me in the cold. Thankfully God is good, and I went to court and only paid $33USD; only because my flight to come back to JA was already booked and a plea deal was the only way to leave and not risk getting locked up when trying to re-enter the US, because the court dates they had were all after the date of my flight. There's no way I was gonna lose that, cause that was some serious victimization.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsE6-PVDeDDE_9mYWnQUeZEVWVVKvw8vhbWEQ5w9s2BDHdQlCBMGWeWWiiytDdF4vbzauqqOGgIZ9fgwkp83WCA8XKcniWoU6EXaqq9rGmXZSadZnz8O1jx3Ej29JdPQT4K2_YdLWaww/s1600/DSCF3413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsE6-PVDeDDE_9mYWnQUeZEVWVVKvw8vhbWEQ5w9s2BDHdQlCBMGWeWWiiytDdF4vbzauqqOGgIZ9fgwkp83WCA8XKcniWoU6EXaqq9rGmXZSadZnz8O1jx3Ej29JdPQT4K2_YdLWaww/s320/DSCF3413.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ticket #2 (Now u know what a NJ ticket looks like)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbJM4rQFVw0ZrPN7duXlaHD6XaDjVgHoZEbV8FK8eI-NVXvyiOO5bjwstCbPLEi06bBBhmgx4TjM_c2BUIEL794DBON7T1_Pbe-uLhyphenhyphenQfeHK0phVRX1DimhULP74ApJWr1LqzJZ8j-ak/s1600/DSCF3412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbJM4rQFVw0ZrPN7duXlaHD6XaDjVgHoZEbV8FK8eI-NVXvyiOO5bjwstCbPLEi06bBBhmgx4TjM_c2BUIEL794DBON7T1_Pbe-uLhyphenhyphenQfeHK0phVRX1DimhULP74ApJWr1LqzJZ8j-ak/s320/DSCF3412.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ticket #3 (BTW A who name "Allen A Channing?! :S)</td></tr>
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<strong>TIP: Don't drive in New Jersey if:</strong> <br />
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- You don't have to<br />
- You're black<br />
- You're not American<br />
- or you're conveniently dressed in a hoodie (due to the cold) + you're black<br />
- You plan to get hit in the back of your car by a <em>white </em>person<br />
- (or my favourite) you're black + not American + dressed in a hoodie + driving your cousin's sports car<br />
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So yeah, I drive safely, but mi jus salt!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbc5SFEG3nUHADWi79fQtoHG8tBichOJ8sjFnxLkn4yxNeDvLiXNAb2gb7LuHLddfxH9GdzldnpJIFHBE3bDRGQC2DlVjxnrj2nD2VlHNERDIdHGSqNWLgwZnEup2HSMNu-OaNflsAvA4/s1600/Subaru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbc5SFEG3nUHADWi79fQtoHG8tBichOJ8sjFnxLkn4yxNeDvLiXNAb2gb7LuHLddfxH9GdzldnpJIFHBE3bDRGQC2DlVjxnrj2nD2VlHNERDIdHGSqNWLgwZnEup2HSMNu-OaNflsAvA4/s1600/Subaru.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Suzie look-alike :)</td></tr>
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Now to the issue of my road rage: if you've driven with me before, you would hear me in action. My road rage is very mild; I haven't gotten into any roadside fight yet, but I have my piece a board an' two prayer if a man waa try sum'n! But bwoy, Jamaican drivers, specifically taxis annoy the heaven outta me! I wish I drove a big van, with a BIG iron on the front so I could just clobber any unruly driver. Probably that's why God gave me Suzie (my little Subaru Justy). Someone needs to teach <strike>dutty, stinking naasi, frowsy,</strike> unruly drivers a lesson, and I wish it could be me. My car nuh insure fi tek lick still, so good sense always prevails. One day though, I'll be rich. And when I get there, just watch, mi aguh slap couple a dem offa di road. #OH! because had I had a big vehicle I probably would've hit a couple vehicles by now... big and serious.<br />
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Like everyone else, I hate when people a drive and a shine dem bright bright light inna Jah son yeye! Nuh because my car light dem ole' and nuh bright dem feel seh mi muss blind! 'Sas crise man!<br />
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****AMMENDMENT****</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Ae_7inhlpbdwFHn3LKCCUbtVCy1B3ADbm7czJvmm0fX8HCuvtTLW6J8SRLJQBgOesjX4D4trI24jVZD9B6gs2dlJP4cRG7McwUz1J33UfPaESZPj3v7XVGhSeNmuSg0rK4dLGFBNBwk/s1600/TurnSignal-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Ae_7inhlpbdwFHn3LKCCUbtVCy1B3ADbm7czJvmm0fX8HCuvtTLW6J8SRLJQBgOesjX4D4trI24jVZD9B6gs2dlJP4cRG7McwUz1J33UfPaESZPj3v7XVGhSeNmuSg0rK4dLGFBNBwk/s320/TurnSignal-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<strong>(Made on 17.5.2013)</strong> HOW could I forget?!<br />
My people... My lovely, wonderful people who turn suddenly without indicating, switch lanes suddenly without indicating, or indicate afta unno done mek the turn... There's a <em>special place</em> in hell for all of you. Okay, that's a tad drastic :S But yeah, that's super annoying! I really wish I could fishtail a couple of you and let you spin out of control... When nothing is coming of course *nervous chuckle*<br />
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****AMMENDMENT****</div>
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LAST ting. People. People. PEOPLE.<br />
HIF HIT WERE NAT FAR DI GRACE OF GOD, I WUDDA SLAP DUNG NUFF A UNNO! <a href="http://youtu.be/EZ9TMmMidBw?t=2m25s" target="_blank">JUST. LIKE. THIS!</a><br />
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Why some people feel seh dem muss cross di street pan green light? Eeeeeeeeeh? Dem tink seh dem a cyaar? Dem mek outta metal? Mek dem gwaan y'hear? I waa jus graze a couple a dem, mek dem learn. Chuh man.<br />
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WAIT.<br />
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I wonder if this will be used against me? Suppose I hit someone by accident one day?<br />
Eeeeeeek! This would be incriminating evidence! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3s3vHFyybxk" target="_blank">*draws for Shaggy's ole chune*</a><br />
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Hmmm... I plead insanity and unsound mind from early! Muahahahahahahaa D:<br />
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(Now to plot how to secretly eviscerate these nuisances on the road....)<br />
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I had to go look for some sorta video... Just look at this fool below. SMH<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-4002616666261592172013-05-14T20:32:00.000-05:002013-05-14T20:32:43.558-05:00What does Tomb Raider and a Mastectomy have in Common?What does the movie: <i>"Lara Croft: Tomb Raider"</i> and a <i>Mastectomy</i> have in common? If you haven't already heard, I'm sure you maybe wondering. I'll tell you. Think of the woman with the trademark <strike>chapped</strike> lips in Hollywood. If you watched <i>Tomb Raider</i>, <i>Salt</i>, <i>The Tourist</i>--<i>Mr & Mrs. Smith</i>; you already know who it is.<br />
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That's right.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2jkEgV9SCk5fOFbN3mjH4l-njkCkhbwJaDtSAxjlyfQobFattFx0G6EAL07JCwoOvkqplBA8FNm8mg0YlLmsQPQfSOtQW1-tOHXTsUUCYUQIPwych6ZtrttnFPV2xLkvqHC5TnMQ2Ps/s1600/Angelina_Jolie_In_Tomb_Raider_Wallpapers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2jkEgV9SCk5fOFbN3mjH4l-njkCkhbwJaDtSAxjlyfQobFattFx0G6EAL07JCwoOvkqplBA8FNm8mg0YlLmsQPQfSOtQW1-tOHXTsUUCYUQIPwych6ZtrttnFPV2xLkvqHC5TnMQ2Ps/s320/Angelina_Jolie_In_Tomb_Raider_Wallpapers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The poster child for<strong><em> Lara Croft: Tomb Raider</em></strong>; is now the poster child for cutting off your boobs for health reasons. I present:<br />
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ANGELINA JOLIE: <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/may/14/angelina-jolie-double-mastectomy-women" target="_blank"><strong>Double Mastectomy patient</strong>.</a> <-- (READ IT)<br />
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What is a mastectomy you ask? Check out <a href="http://medical-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/mastectomy" target="_blank">this definition.</a><br />
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Now a lot of people may be wondering why the hell she would do such a thing. If you're a boob lover like me (confession is good for the soul), then you probably wouldn't initially be a big supporter of such a move.<br />
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You can see my initial reaction below:<br />
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<img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sTuG9H7nW1K5XUKL8-f8r3SopoGzwTkO0o4XztB6CRBtTYQk1UPQZQ9LDxX_PX6gBMBj_V1aXqAQ20DZhQWKHEU1YeEUO5v294PyDrhLT4B4QI4KSUCJgZSBzfv80NhUApdnzHBE7Vg/s400/Mastectomy+Tweet+%231.jpg" width="400" /></div>
Then, I kinda got a little outrageous... (Just a little teensy weensy bit *nervous smile* **)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRglIPAoYP3NX_xkBOtZKimX1kdI45B8zNQasCXE3qaC6zWMcV9vSub7PQNUbSTS8NKRDHpqXytPuLxhpPTuAPsxBkruTFOw0q6D5wb5eKTitD9wqittKRfEmEfNZuXuCpujvqfMaMps/s1600/Mastectomy+Tweet+%232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRglIPAoYP3NX_xkBOtZKimX1kdI45B8zNQasCXE3qaC6zWMcV9vSub7PQNUbSTS8NKRDHpqXytPuLxhpPTuAPsxBkruTFOw0q6D5wb5eKTitD9wqittKRfEmEfNZuXuCpujvqfMaMps/s400/Mastectomy+Tweet+%232.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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However, after my brief outburst I decided to read and find out exactly why. Turns out, her mother died of breast cancer at age 56 (Jolie is 37 now) and after doing tests, she discovered she has the genes that gave her an 87% chance of getting breast cancer, and a 50% percent chance of getting ovarian cancer. Those genes are called BRCA1 and another faulty gene, called BRCA2.<br />
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<b>**If it makes you feel better, I already knew about this procedure; I knew why it was done, although I had only seen it once before, so my initial outburst was just me wondering if she was just doing it 'cause she could, like several celebrities tend to do with various operations and procedures.</b><br />
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Now I, like many people, have a <em>SPECIAL</em> hatred for cancer. My hatred is due to cancer killing so many good people I knew, and affecting Seventh Day Adventists especially, despite us claiming to have the health message.<br />
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I really couldn't imagine my wife (to be) having to cut off her breasts though, but at the same time, after reading up on Angelina's case, I completely understood and supported her decision. We ALL know its a serious thing when people say <strong><em>"prevention is better than cure".</em></strong><br />
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So guys (or girls, if you totally have a girl crush on Angelina), don't worry. If the image of a flat-chested Jolie in upcoming movies is plaguing your mind like it did mine, I have good news:<br />
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<u style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisVjjjAEZPQm-xk1eOfo5eU1NKPlNWnGvqEJ-3Yvd-Dy_9TMDl7jl16BCh33xDWdCB0vGnC6De6uNC1uvpVEo1zDfo7M_W1syEdVqbklS6qagX8cJe8O5JGwa14wgklSUvkb2QRwaqhw0/s400/Mastectomy+Tweet+%25233.jpg" width="400" /></u></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWvfBBKyjGVSiFxtDV90KTvN1KKhb5hzDu0FkGKbt6xzHUAsiclc_iuY5McBFSBVKhlfRRFj3g6fN3MrXIqH_yEj5jCG1Ufdu_cIG0I2gDhsTrMMtICHZM2a2JZICpRdSbuLH009mRUU/s1600/tomb-raider-angelina-jolie-trailer-cnqu8s5o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWvfBBKyjGVSiFxtDV90KTvN1KKhb5hzDu0FkGKbt6xzHUAsiclc_iuY5McBFSBVKhlfRRFj3g6fN3MrXIqH_yEj5jCG1Ufdu_cIG0I2gDhsTrMMtICHZM2a2JZICpRdSbuLH009mRUU/s400/tomb-raider-angelina-jolie-trailer-cnqu8s5o.jpg" width="266" /></a> </div>
The <i>Tomb Raider</i> body shall remain! \o/ <br />
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This is a really brave and commendable move from the iconic star, and I'm sure her husband--wait, dem nuh married yet nuh tru?! I cudda swear they were! But I know he supports her. If you don't know who is her husband, please to slap yourself several times and read the story <a href="http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/celebrity/actress-angelina-jolie-undergoes-double-mastectomy/story-e6frfmqi-1226642195987" target="_blank">> HERE <</a> to find out is who. I'll give you a hint: his name rhymes with "Bad Wit"...<br />
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I'm sure that like many other celebs <strike>the lady who always looks like she needs chapstick</strike> Angie will definitely inspire many women to be proactive and do what they have to do to stay healthy and give themselves a better chance at having longer lives.<br />
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However, one major drawback is that <b><u>the test alone costs US $3000</u></b>. O_O That's alotta money. That's almost $300,000 JMD. It's a high price to pay for just a test. Imagine the whole procedure.<br />
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Overall, even though I'm a quintessential breast lover, I fully support Angie's move. It'd be tough for me to deal with if I was her husband, but I think I'd definitely want to increase my woman's chances of being around longer too. If I ever get to that bridge, I hope we'll be rich enough to pay for implants!<br />
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You can read a more personal account of <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/news/americas/2013/05/201351493044776503.html" target="_blank">Jolie and her mastectomy</a> <---- here.<br />
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Cancer sucks, so kudos to the Tomb Raider for unearthing the confidence to make a move so bold that may just prolong her life, and eventually, the lives of many other women.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3889324393305212856.post-61060878929659853832013-05-07T12:57:00.001-05:002013-05-07T13:00:27.452-05:00Why are Jamaicans, and Blacks by extension Homophobic?<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">>>>>>>>>>>DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT HOMOSEXUALITY<<<<<<<<<<<</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a huge basketball fan. However, on April 29,
2013, something hardly basketball related--save for the fact that it had to do
with a basketball player, opened my eyes to a pretty interesting question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8WHcfkK_nhnT8m1G2l0Ijv1j948ENz9jZqP6gYjOg_7-60KkkL6855FP04Ekh3oDmVWD7xx46eAW3POmKzqHtQA5FdAXkTdATG4cd9WuhhSCYxspx_A5I8Cqw8SGP0d6eMfNkMX0fodw/s1600/jason-collins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8WHcfkK_nhnT8m1G2l0Ijv1j948ENz9jZqP6gYjOg_7-60KkkL6855FP04Ekh3oDmVWD7xx46eAW3POmKzqHtQA5FdAXkTdATG4cd9WuhhSCYxspx_A5I8Cqw8SGP0d6eMfNkMX0fodw/s320/jason-collins.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jason Collins</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jason Collins (NBA player of the Washington Wizards, now a free agent) became
the first active Major US Pro athlete (meaning in Hockey, Basketball, Baseball or Football i.e. NFL) to come out and openly admit to being gay.
There have been instances where former players have “come out of the closet” to
disdain by many and with support from a few, but an active player? This was unprecedented.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being the opinionated fellow that I am, I posted an opinion
on Facebook, (in jest) that I would no longer watch sports. A friend of mine
took my jest literally but it was all in fun to me. However later on, this
prompted me to ask a very pertinent set of questions. (And yes I still intend
to watch sports).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><em>What’s the reason for homophobia being so high in Jamaica
& other Caribbean countries, while at lower levels in North America and
Europe? What’s so different with us? Why are we so anti-gay when the rest of
the world isn’t?</em></strong> Mind you, I’m not pro-gay, because I believe in the Bible
which is against it, and I think homosexuality is unnatural.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine my shock to receive an answer saying: “Educated
people are more open minded & liberal, so make of that what you will.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, WHAT?! -------> </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3c-GP3_3Sw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">/:O</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (see link)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Am I to understand that straight people are uneducated?! I
had to restrain myself from responding the way I really wanted to. Because we don't agree or support a position? Please. Have several seats. That is a faaaar cry from being uneducated. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thankfully,
a friend of mine says she’s secretly a historian and pointed out to me that:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <strong>“Homosexuality was introduced forcefully to Africans. White men raped them into
submission they feared.”</strong> </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She added that the practice has been a part of world
dominant cultures and to maintain dominance, men raped men. If true, this would explain why black people are so
homophobic, and with good reason I’d say. Therefore, people of the Caribbean (who
are made up of mostly African descendants), have merely inherited the fear of our
forefathers. I won't accept that at face value as plausible as it sounds; therefore, I intend to research this further, make myself more "educated" if you will. It's something I need to get to the bottom of... LOL</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You know I had to put a pun somewhere.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">P.s. I do not believe homosexuals are to be beaten, or treated unfairly even though we do not agree with their decision to lead that lifestyle. So even though I do not support that lifestyle and I will flatly refuse ANY suggestion that I should be accepting of the lifestyle, they should be treated just like any other human beings.</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">I don't hate them, and will never hate <em>them </em>as people, I just hate what they're doing, just like any other thing that is a sin.</span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07051977974507949487noreply@blogger.com1