13 rules for crashing w/ your Black pal...

12DEC2024; 1518, THU– Balto., Maryland, USA

Blessed afternoon to everyone except those who don’t have basic respect for their own domiciles. Thank you for your patience and understanding with the delay in concluding this series in particular; nevermind my wholly infrequent posting in general.

This is a brief labor of Love; to include a bonus 14th rule that likely ought not even need to be included. Be that as it may, here we are; all the same, wishing upon a star.

The wish is generally that someday these rules won’t be necessary; as common decency, common sense, and/or common courtesy will prevail in society once again. At least, to some extent or another.

Last housekeeping note for now: There’ll be a bonus 14th and final unwritten rule for this particular list at the end; as stated in the previous two parts of this trilogy.

Without further ado; and here’s to you, the reader:

12.) Don’t be the Ghost Man on Third. It doesn’t have to be a house divided on itself; unless that’s your, the guest(s) personal preference.

If that is your prerogative, gon’ get gone somewhere else with that bologna sandwich full of beach sand. Thank you; though, no thank you.

To those who didn’t catch the Taking Back Sunday, nor the pickup game kickball reference: A Ghost Man on Third base is never a plus. It leaves the home base wide open for the other team to score essentially.

Also, just to reiterate: Men are suppose to protect; provide; and/or profess something that is at least somewhat prophetic. If you can’t seem to find it in your heart to do any of that for your home; community; nor your Family…

13.) Speaking of Family: If you’re ever in a situation where you’re burning bridges left/right and every which way; to the point that your own Moms (sic) wants to, “get you to together”, and/or openly/unequivocally wishes death upon you…

Please keep that energy anywhere but in the Homies’ home, homeskillet. With the utmost sincerity: Figure out how to right your wrongs; even if it means writing songs or something, then come see about crashing at the Black pal’s bachelor pad.

Otherwise, you’ll likely/feasibly/positively end up crashing out at the only place that you have to crash and lay your head (down to sleep). Word to the wise: Save the household the trouble; just off the strength.

I guarantee you that it as assuredly as my ass has touched grass: The household already has enough drama without you and your llama. Just where it like Cindy’s glass slippers if it fits; and call it a gift.

Bonus #14.) Do NOT; I say again, refrain from blocking the host/hostess from contacting you; especially when they pay your GOD blessed phone bill (tomfoolery in and of itself), you’re already late on rent, and/or you are obnoxiously obsessed with breaking the noise curfew.

This is just quite simply a recipe for not only disaster; though, dare I call it— the perfect storm. Even if it seems like a decent idea at the time— one out of ten; don’t recommend.

You’d be better off trying to build a time machine to go back and attempt to one up Fred Astaire for the fun of it. “You’re gonna have a bad time.”

Stick to what you know without “backdooring” Bmore (Baltimore) Bammas. Otherwise, you are very much liable to find yourself court-side for a slow moving train wreck of a dumpster fire.

If/when such a matter occurs, don’t look to place the blame elsewhere in any way; shape; form; or fashion. Thank yourself; immediately prior to stating that you are, “Unquestionably not welcome[d]…”

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Shoutout to all Vocal's inventors/staff/readers/writers. “[Y'all] the real MVP.”

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Peace; blessings; and much Love, even. *Salute.*

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